PROLOGUE

"Will you come back, Father?" asked the little girl. She shifted her position in her father's arms so she looked up at him. Her dark eyes glittered with excitement.

"Of course, I always do. I could never leave my angel alone for too long!" said the father. The child smiled. She loved her father dearly but often worried about him. He was a knight, a very important knight. Her father would visit when he could, always bringing gifts for her.

"Can I go with you? I can stay within the walls while you fight!" exclaimed the child. Her father laughed and smiled. He shook his head, his dark curls bouncing. The girl looked at him.

"No, little one, I cannot take you with me. If the fort were to be attacked whilst I was away, I could not forgive myself if you were hurt or killed!" the father said. The child's face saddened then, but quickly brightened.

"I could fight! I'm the best in the village!" she exclaimed, jumping up and thrusting her fist into the air. Her father laughed at her bravery and enthusiasm. He stood up and looked at the little one on the bedding. He wrapped his arms around her tiny waist and lifted her into the air. The girl shrieked with joy as her father carried her out of the room with her slung over his shoulder. She dare not squirm or else she'd be tickled.

The little girl looked behind them, slowly calming down from the excitement. Her attention span was thinning when she noticed the string of floating lights.

"Father, look at that!" she said, catching her father's attention. The man turned and saw what she was talking about. There, positioned on the hill, were at least twenty archers, armed with flaming arrows. The put the little girl down and knelt before her.

"Listen to me," he said seriously, "go and ring the alarm bell. Let everyone know that they have to leave the village immediately. Then bring me my horse. Then return to the stables and free the horses then hide in the forest and wait until I come and get you, understand?" he instructed. The girl nodded and ran off.

In the center of the village there was a large bell that wasn't to be sounded unless there was an emergency. The girl grasped the thick rope and pulled. The bell swung heavily and its warning voice echoed throughout the village. The girl pulled three more times, each time the voice grew louder.

She then abandoned the bell and ran to the stables to retrieve her father's black horse. She climbed up on the horse and kicked it urgently, forcing it forward. As she rode she yelled at the people to exit quickly for they were under attack.

The people reacted without hesitation, grabbing children and heading to the forest that often gave them refuge. They headed towards the forest in a great exodus.

The child had found her father and quickly leapt off the horse. He nodded with appreciation and told her to go. The girl pushed through the large mass of people and finally reached the stables. The girl ran through and opened all the stalls, save the last one. The final stall was jammed, making it difficult to open.

The smell of smoke drifted through the open doors and soon the stables caught on fire. People began to yell and scream, forcing everyone to push to the forest. The doors to the stables slammed shut as people pushed through. The girl stared at the closed doors, her heart wrapped in fear. She then concentrated on the jammed stall door and began to pull as hard as she could until the door flew open. The horse sped from the stall and galloped towards the closed doors. When the horse reached the doors the sheer force of its run forced them open.

The girl ran out of the stables just as the roof began to burn and fall. She ran through the burning village, running to the exit. Dead men and women covered the ground, making her leap over piles of dead people.

As she ran she inhaled not air but smoke, causing her to grow dizzy. When she exited the village, she ran to the open hills, fresh air fighting a battle within her lungs against the lurking smoke. The girl coughed harshly and her pace began to slow. Her head was throbbing and the world around her grew dark and blurry. She stopped on the top of the hill and moaned as the world refused to stop moving. The girl then fell to the grass covered ground, her consciousness drifting away.

Meanwhile a group of knights exited the forest, leading the surviving villagers. There were seven knights, and the two in the front rode farther ahead than the rest. The father of the child was one of the two, his eyes searching for any sign of his daughter. His commander and best friend didn't understand why his fellow knight was behaving oddly, but never asked.

The youngest of the knights noticed the small lump at the top of a nearby hill. His eyes strained to see what the lump consisted of, but from what he could tell it was a small person.

"Arthur, there's someone lying on the top of that hill!" he shouted to the front. He pointed and all seven knights looked in that direction. The father looked with more interest than the others and raced off towards the hill. The commander, who was Arthur, watched him curiously and followed.

The father reached the motionless person with a heart full of hope. He stepped down from the horse and knelt by the child, for it was a child the young knight had seen. The man brushed away some ash from the child's face and lifted her into his arms.

Arthur slowed his horse when the father had begun to ride towards the group of people. The skies were filled with threatening clouds and thunder was rumbling within them. The father resumed his place at the head of the line, Arthur joining him with a curious eye.

"Lancelot, do you know this child?" he asked. The father looked up and grinned. The youngest knight, who had spotted the child, rode behind the father.

"It was a child? I thought it was an enemy. Looks like a puny barbarian, to me at least," the young knight said rather loudly. Lancelot was surprised when the child in his arms woke up with a start and frowned.

"I am not a barbarian! If you aren't careful my father will strike you down!" she snapped. Arthur blinked with surprise and looked at Lancelot expectantly. The young knight, and the rest of the knights for that matter, did the same. None of them had ever imagined Lancelot as a fatherly type of man, but there he was, holding his child lovingly.

"Lancelot?" Arthur asked. It was a question within a question, and Lancelot knew that they doubted it.

"Yes, Arthur, this little barbarian is mine. Her name is Meridyth," he replied, answering all the questions that were asked silently. Meridyth gazed at Arthur, not with fear, but with thought. Arthur noticed how much they looked alike. Meridyth had inherited her father's dark hair and eyes.

"Am I going with you, Father?" she asked her eyes still on Arthur. Lancelot smiled.

"Yes, love, you are. Just like you had wanted," he replied. He knew that when she arrived there she would need watching, but he couldn't be with her always.

"We aren't baby watchers!" exclaimed Bors, the largest knight.

"Good, because I'm not a baby and I don't need watched! I can take care of myself!" she said angrily. Lancelot would have told her to stop, but it would have been a useless effort. Besides that, he was too busy laughing.

"Don't worry, Lancelot, we'll help keep an eye on her," Arthur murmured. Lancelot nodded with appreciation.

"She'll be returning with the villagers when their village has been rebuilt. I don't want her to get hurt," he replied softly. Meridyth pretended not to be listening, but when she heard that piece of news she looked at her father with sad eyes, but nodded. She didn't want to be a burden to her father.

"You look like a baby to me," muttered the young knight, who was fifteen. Meridyth's eyes flared with anger.

"Well, if I'm a baby then you're a child as well!" she retorted. The knight that rode with the young man chuckled.

"I would be careful if I were you, Galahad. If she's Lancelot's daughter then she is more than capable to take you down," he laughed. Galahad glared at him.

"Could not!" he muttered as everyone, except him, erupted with laughter. Meridyth settled down in her father's arms and sighed. She would make the best of her time with her father. Who knows when she would have to leave?