Later, after both armies had recovered from the carnage of the morning, armed men once again gathered in the field. This time only those who marched under the banners of Bjornsburg could be seen, the forces of Namron having vanished ahead down an old road which crawled steeply down a narrow, foreboding ravine. The road was only thirty feet wide, and mesquite scrub and giant cactus towered to either side, too thick for a man to hack his way through. The final outcome of the war will be decided this day by two armies who can barely meet each other more than ten men at a time. Commands crowd the air, and the contingents that make up Bjornsburg's might gather around their various banners. The heat and the dust from marching feet are stifling, and few seem to have the eagerness for combat so evident in both armies that morning. Orders are given from the Bjornsburg generals, and separate contingents start to move forward one after the other, banners hanging limply in the air as still as a crypt as they march off in pursuit of the Namron army.
As the armored groups from Stargate, Bryn Gwlad and the others leave the field to disappear down the gloomy road, Bordermarch is ordered to "guard the rear" and the small group dejectedly falls back, knowing they will probably miss the thick of the fighting. The Bordermarch'ers trudge along, and the five Crystal Skull are at the very rear, trying to think of a way to get through the underbrush to the front of the fighting. Suddenly the strident crash of arms splits the air, and dust boils into the sky up ahead where the road curves downward out of sight. The order comes to stand fast, and then more orders for one armored group after another to march into the slaughter and reinforce the front ranks. Bordermarch can only stand helpless and wait, since there are at least three more groups in front of them. As Scythe and Germanicus stand talking quietly at the rear, Scythe notices more armored men behind them shuffling up where there were none before. His sharp eyes widen, and he softly asks Germanicus, "Didn't we fight some guys with a brown banner this morning?" Germanicus replies he's not sure, and nonchalantly looks at the men getting closer. Suddenly he spots the same enormous, red-diamond shield of the warrior he crushed that morning in the first charge. "SKULL!" he yells, and charges the same man again, and once again he hacks him down.
Scythe tears into another swordsman, then all of the Skull are there, and then Simonn and the others from Bordermarch. In moments it's over, and the plans of Namron to crush Bjornsburg in the fanged jaws of the trap are destroyed. As the warriors turn back to the front to regroup and wait to move forward under the Bordermarch banner, a deadly quiet falls across the entire area. Word comes back along the ranks that mighty Namron's army has fallen; it's over.
Before anyone can make a move back toward their camps, though, something very strange happens. The Bjornsburg contingents still standing in groups further down the road all turn and face Bordermarch's small force and then move forward to form a shield wall. Amra steps to the front and loudly pronounces, "Hey! We are with you guys. We are all with Bjornsburg!" From one helmet among the soldiers facing them comes back, "That's not what we were just told." The treachery of the bowmen was not enough; Bjornsburg apparently intends to rid themselves of the hated mercenaries once and for all.
Both sides quickly form their battlelines, and the Bordermarch'ers can only glare their anger at this new treachery. Once again the Skull's new friends stand with them, this time knowing the only possible outcome. They are badly outnumbered, and every man among them knows that this will certainly be his final day on this earth but Bjornsburg women will weep this night, by thunder! For a brief minute that seems to last for hours the two groups eye one another, and then a "Charge!" is heard from somewhere. The Barbarian and Germanicus are on the right, and as the attack starts they mangle the four men in front of them, effectively wiping out the new enemy's entire flank. In the cramped death-ground of the narrow road, the dust and noise are worse than ever, and corpses already carpet the ground. Simonn, Scythe and the other valiants each give an awesome accounting, and their opponents litter the ground around them.
As in the earlier battle, Germanicus has once again smashed through to the enemy rear, but this time he does not return. Thorkel falls, his victims making his bed. The Barbarian's murderous mace rips an opening in the enemy ranks, and he tears through like a giant, enraged bear. He fights his way back through to Bordermarch, spins, and once again mangles the enemy line as he charges through. This time, many swords can be seen falling and rising in their rear ranks, and he joins Germanicus. One by one the men of Bordermarch fall, and their few allies with them. The mysterious warrior in scaled armor has fallen alongside Thorkel; they will ride together with the Valkyries this day.
After the bowman's last winged-serpent rips the life out of a Namron warrior, he grabs his final javelin and charges into the fray, to be hacked to pieces by the heavier-armed enemy. Simonn has fallen, and Scythe, and most of the others from Bordermarch but Yagsavoke, Amra and little Jerek are still fighting on. Amra seemingly vanishes into the ground, falling into a shallow trench where a gnarled root pins his helmet down. He guards himself well with his shield, lying flat on his back, with enemy sword blows raining down. Thinking him slain they are suddenly gone, and he leaps to his feet to deal death again before he falls among the others. Only two from Bordermarch still stand, Yagsavoke and Jerek, with his skull helmet dented and black tabbard encrusted with blood and dirt but the Bjornsburg forces have been decimated by the Bordermarch death-stand. Incredibly there are only three enemy left, and then two as Yagsavoke sends another into the long night.
The four men viciously hack at each other, and suddenly Yagsavoke and his opponent both fall, each taking the others' life with him. Jerek the boy-man fights on against the last swordsman from Bjornsburg, who is larger by far. A final blow from Jerek's lightening hands and his enemy crumples, but not before he strikes his last. Jerek stands for a fleeting instant then collapses, and the silence of the multitude looking on is deafening. Someone is heard to say, "But that blow hit Jerek's shield!" and we suddenly realize the youngster is not dead but literally passed out from the heat and exhaustion. He is hauled to his feet by dead men come back to life, for this is the SCA where you can drink and sing tonight with the men you slew today. The carnage and cries for water were far worse than on the battlefield of that morning, and I have not hauled my battle-gear away from a scene that looked so convincingly real since then.
The Crystal Skull packed to go to Austin that night and celebrate, and leading our group on the way out to the gate I noticed that our other two vehicles had suddenly been stopped by a group of men. I raced back to see what the trouble was, only to find that the Namron contingent led by the warrior with the giant, red-diamond shield were presenting their proud, brown banner to us as a battle trophy! They were some of the finest people I've met in the SCA, and the next day we raced back to the war site to give them the biggest, ripest ice-cold black diamond watermelon we could find.
Simonn told us later that everyone was asking him at the feast that night where the "guys wearing the skulls were." In truth, tearing the lungs out of a Holiday Inn in Austin, knocking all of the water out of their pool, and eating gigantic steaks while retelling the events of the day. We deserved it, and I hope those among you who have not yet experienced a weekend like this will one day be able to earn the same reward.
Germanicus