(This was written not to engage in some outlandish chest-thumping, but to spin a good yarn and hopefully entertain. It is Bordermarch history from MANY years ago, and is for the younger among us who would care to know more of our barony's past. I especially wrote this for the fighters who have never experienced what the story entails; I lived it and this is what I saw from my small viewpoint on a hot summer weekend so very long ago.)
Once there was a war, a now-forgotten war between Namron and Bjornsburg over an unremembered reason. Only the deeds are recalled anymore, and those of us who were there are older now, much older, so the telling grows less often than in another time. The news came as news often does, by the infamous and often unreliable grapevine. Bjornsburg and Namron would meet in a month to do battle east of Bryn Gwlad near the village of Bastrop, and formerly agreed-upon treaties were being called up and mercenaries hired. In those days so very long ago there were uneasy relations between Bordermarch and the Bjornsburg ally of Stargate, but the gold they offered was irresistable to mercenaries. Our own household gathered late Friday afternoon for last minute preparations out in Jeffery the Barbarians's yard, cramming everything into the Great Van-god and two other vehicles. Jeffery, Amra, Thorkel, Jerek and Germanicus tried on their new black tabbards with a white skull in the center, along with the freshly painted grinning-skull helmets, all along knowing the effect they would have on the chivalry. No one in Bordermarch knew anything about the formation of the Crystal Skull, and they joked about what Sir Simonn of Amber's reaction would be.
They headed west into the gathering twilight, arriving at midnight to an incredible scene at the battle ground. The gate was swarming with cars coming in, and other vehicles could be seen maneuvering in the distant gloom looking for a place to pitch their pavilions. Campfires were everywhere, with dark figures moving among them. We chose our site far from any of the others, and soon wandered off to sleep. The next morning rose clear and hot, with the night-dew on the ground quickly scorched away in the west Texas sun. During a light breakfast, we all scanned the campsites that lay scattered as far as you could see, bright pavilions and colorful banners shining against the dry mesquite horizon. There were armored men everywhere, and all of us felt the same "butterflies" from the adrenalin racing through our veins.
By this time we weren't talking or joking much, because with the colors we would wear that day we knew that we had to "put up or shut up," and our skull-emblems would make us very visible targets on the battlefield. Gathering at the pre-war meeting, you couldn't help but wonder why so many of the fighters looked bigger than you.
There would be two different battles, the first on a large scrub-dotted field, the second in a narrow, treacherous ravine. After thirty more minutes to get armored we headed to the field, which was west-Texas prairie the size of four football fields, and dotted with cactus everywhere. As the armies began forming up, a giant white brahma bull took station out in the very center, guarding his turf from the strange intruders. One dignitary in bright red marched out, trying to move the hulking sentinel, and a brief moment of laughter from both sides relieved some of the tension they all felt as the bull took interest in his scarlet clothing. As the battlelines formed, Bordermarch was assigned to Bjornsburg's left flank, and the Crystal Skull took their place on the very end. The enemy lines looked enormous, stretching all the way across the field.
As the Skull chose shield-brothers, with young Jerek reluctantly stuck with Germanicus, he noticed that the berserker was already starting to work himself up for the battle. Then Lady Tessa came to us, softly warning that treachery may be planned by Stargate, and to beware! All of Bjornsburg's missile troops formed up on the left flank directly in front of the Skull, with one of them joking and talking with us while the rest kept to themselves. One swordsman wearing armor and helmet covered with scaled leather, and with no apparent loyalties to any group, had been standing with us during the morning preparations. I warned him that we had heard of treachery planned to "get rid of the mercenaries," and he may not want to get in the middle of it. He thinks for a moment, then with a grim smile says nothing but turns and takes his position in the line. We are glad to have him; he looks like a good fighter and adds one more sword to our five. Can we trust him?
Orders are being given up and down the lines on both sides, and everyone knows it will start soon. The Skull stands silently on the end, part of the Bjornsburg army and yet feeling very alone because of the warnings from Tessa. Jerek hears Germanicus' breathing getting deeper and faster, and knows that his shield brother is starting to work himself up to a berserker rage. He has seen this before, and knows the destruction that the warrior is capable of when the battle madness is on him. When Jerek turns to look he sees that Germanicus has bitten into his lip and is spraying blood out of his helmet each time he violently exhales. Jerek is only sixteen years old at the time, and wonders how is supposed to be shield-brother to THAT? Suddenly the orders being shouted down the line increase in volume and urgency; they are coming!
Click here for the next chapter: THE BATTLE FOR BASTROP FIELD