As I took up my spear and sword and climbed onto my chariot, I knew I was riding to my last battle. For how can a man fight a war when he agrees with his opponents? Had I not warned them not to do her injustice? It was not she who had brought dishonour onto my king. And had the losses not been repaired?
We rode past the green hills and the meadows and arrived at the king's court. I was greeted by his nobles, who were laughing and smiling as if they had already won this fight. I did not cheer with them, for I knew this was their fault.
The king himself seemed rather nervous. I saw him kiss his son goodbye. His son, her son. His hands were shaking and sweatdrops drew their traces in the woad on his face. Our great king, the warrior.
" Where is the princess of the Mighty?", I asked the druid.
" Where she belongs", he replied, with a chuckle.
" The pigsty?"
" Indeed."

I got off and walked towards the stables. There she was, the queen of the Brave, the princess of the Mighty, dressed in rags, covered in dirt, feeding the beasts.

" My queen!" I said, and she looked up at me with a fierce look in her eyes.
" Don't worry. I did not come to throw insults at you. Tell me how this war can be stopped."

" Stop this war? Simple. Let me go home with my brother and he will spare your lives."
" And what about your son?"
" My husband treats him well and one day he shall rule this island."
Her voice was detemined and her face was hard, but a tear in her eye betrayed that it had not been an easy decision.

" No other solution?"
" None. Now if you'll excuse me, I have pigs to feed."

I walked back to the warriors and mounted my chariot again.
" To our doom", I told my charioteer and off we went towards the coast.

Our army was impressive to look at, hundreds of chariots, thousands of warriors, dressed in gold and iron, their faces blue with woad, their hair combed backwards or arranged in dreadful spikes. They were waving their swords and spears, chanting warsongs and blowing their horns. And for a moment I thought the sight of this army alone should drive the Mighty back into the sea.

But when we arrived at the beach, an equally impressive sight awaited us. The sea was filled with ships, as far as I could see. As if a forest of masts had grown out of the water. And they moved towards the island of the Brave at a tremendous speed.

" If we slay them one by one, as soon as they set foot upon our shore, we could beat them", said one of the nobles, but his strategy did not seem to work, for there were far to many of them.

A horrible battle took place upon that beach and that day the gulls fed upon the flesh of fallen warriors. The sea was red with blood and many widows still weep over what happened on that shore.

We were driven back and the king ordered the bridges to be destroyed. They would not take his queen. From the cliffs on the other side of the river we showered them with javelins, and for a moment it seemed they retreated.

But they came back with a prebuilt bridge and they placed it over the river. Like ants they marched towards us, their king ahead of his men. A dreadful warrior, taller than any man I had seen, wielding a sword at least as big as the spear I carried. Seemingly without effort he swept aside our men and marched straight towards our king.

"Defend the king!", the nobles shouted, and we rode toward his position.
I got off the chariot again and cast my spear at the king of the Mighty. It broke upon his shield and he marched on as if he had not even noticed it.

His eyes were red with rage and despite the scars and bruises that had been inflicted upon him, he charged as if he was an angry boar. I rose my shield and resisted a blow of his great sword. With mine I struck at his helmet, which seemed to enrage him even more. One hard blow with the hilt of his sword knocked my down.  Amidst the rattling of wheels, the warcries, horn-signals and cries of agony, I fell down.

How it is I was not trampled I can only guess, but when I woke up, the war was over and I was copletely healthy again. I was told it had been because of the magical cauldron, and that I had been lucky. Just after I had been healed, the prince of the Mighty had destroyed the cauldron, and many of both our warriors and theirs had died in the process.

" How did it end?", I asked.
" Not happily", they replied," The king of the Brave is dead, the king of the Mighty has fallen and the queen has died of grief. Not a single house was spared."

" And the prince of the Brave?", I asked. But they only shook their head.

And thus I heard what had become of the honour and pride of warriors, what a single insult could lead to. I took up my sword and walked towards the beach, which now looked quiet and tranquil, as if nothing had ever happened. I rose the weapon over my head and tossed it as far as I could into the waves. Never again would I touch a sword, never again would I go to war.