The little fire dies to ashes and the sounds of battle can no longer be heard. I wait in the clearing as the remnants of the Niafer War Band come straggling back. Some are sorely wounded and I lend a hand with the bandaging. Some bring a newly acquired sword, a horse or some other prize of battle. A few pass by to admire my fine war axe, but most are too tired to do more than grunt a greeting. I share around some bread and cheese that was brought from the Keep. The lads savor this as if it were the finest of roasted boar or venison. Fenian, Fraoch and Torann are some of the last to appear.

When everyone has eaten and rested a little, and most of the bleeding has been stopped, we mount up and prepare to ride for home. By the time we are ready, many of us have an extra horse in tow. Some of our finest young men are gone. It will be a quiet and sober ride back to The Keep at Inver Colpa.