Darkness and silence were covering the forest. Only the sounds of hooves trampling down on branches and leaves mingled with the heavy breathing of horses could be heard. Arthur had ordered his knights to keep as silent as possible during the ride through the forest. The Roman commander would have preferred to go around the forest, especially with sunset already hours ago, but it would have added at least half a day to their travel back to Hadrian's Wall. The moon provided enough light to see where the horse in front of him, Lancelot's black stallion, was going. He had put Lancelot at point because the Sarmatian and his horse seemed to be able to intuitively find their way in the dark as though they shared some genetic heritage with cats.

The silence and the slow stepwise movements of the horse underneath him almost threatened to lull Gawain into a slumber like state. He shook his head to wake himself up again, knowing that the woods were never safe. He looked over his shoulder, and saw that Galahad was following closely, staring into the dark intently. For a second, their gazes locked and a small smile glided over the young knight's features. Gawain could see that Bors and Dagonet were following behind Galahad, forming the rear.

Suddenly he saw that Tristan who was riding in front of him straightened up, immediately moving his hand to his bow that was loosely tied to the saddle. At the same moment that the scout shouted out "Woads", he heard Lancelot's voice screaming "Back! Get back!"

Arthur turned his horse so abruptly that the animal reared on his hind legs. With a powerful jump it moved forwards when his hooves hit the ground again. "Knights! Back!"

Dagonet was now leading them and he asked as much speed of his large stallion as the animal dared to give through the dense trees. He could hear the shouts of his fellow knights behind him to hurry. Soon the sound of their voices was joined by the swooshing noise of arrows flying past. He could hear Arthur instructing everyone to stay low on their horses.

The horses had been running for only a few minutes when Arthur came aware that no more arrows were being fired upon them. He started to slow down his horse, shouting to Tristan to do the same. Dagonet and Bors were the first to turn their horses once they had reached step and face Arthur and the other knights. Galahad and Gawain turned around as well and watched as Arthur and Tristan approached. "Everyone alright?" Arthur asked.

Gawain watched over Arthur's shoulder, waiting for Lancelot to appear out of the darkness.

Arthur immediately sensed what Gawain was looking for and saw the worry passing over the blond knight's face. He turned around but didn't see anyone behind him. "Lancelot?" he called out. "Lancelot!" A flavor of panic was starting to appear in his voice.

Briefly, very briefly, relief flooded through him as Lancelot's stallion appeared in the moonlight. The horse was riderless. A stone sank to the pit of Arthur's stomach. The other knights watched in shock as Tristan grabbed the reins of the animal when it tried to go past him.

In the moonlight Tristan could easily see the red blood glistening on the horse's back and flank. He quickly dismounted to check the stallion for injuries. Arthur and the other knights watched as Tristan gently roamed his hands over the large animal.

Even before Tristan turned around to face him, Arthur knew that the blood on the stallion was Lancelot's.

"Lancelot has been hit." Even though Tristan's voice sounded even, his eyes shone with fear.

"We have to find him!" Arthur ordered while turning his horse around once more.

Tristan was already on horseback again and led the way, following the trail that Lancelot's stallion had left.

They found no trace of Lancelot until they had tracked back to the place where the attack of the Woads had begun. The sudden turning of the knight's horses had upturned most of the leaves covering the small path between the trees, and it took even Tristan a couple of minutes before he saw the blotches of blood covering the ground. The scout dismounted once more and crouched down. "The leaves are slightly flattened here," he pointed as Arthur joined him.

Arthur nodded. "He fell from his horse." He looked around him in the dark, his green eyes darkened by untamed fear. "Where is he?" He looked back to his scout for the answer.

Tristan shook his head. "There are no signs of a struggle, so either he managed to get away or he was captured without resistance." His words hung in the air. All of the knights knew that Lancelot would never let himself be captured without putting up a fight, unless he was incapable of putting up a fight, for whatever reason.

"There should be a blood trail if he managed to get away… Is there?" Arthur already knew the answer before he asked the question.

"It looks like they followed the same path we used to get here. If we go back, we should be able to find them." Tristan did not want to lose anymore time, so he ignored his commander's question. "We need to hurry. They know these woods better than we do, and there are many hours of darkness to come!"

–– 8 ––

Lancelot suddenly became aware of hands under his arms, dragging him over the dry ground. At the same time, he became aware of the pain that was setting his back on fire. He had to bite his lip to keep from screaming out loud. A metallic taste filled his mouth as blood ran down his split lip. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly while an excruciating agony seared through his veins.

He remembered how he had felt an arrow lodging itself in his back, and how he had tried to scream out to warn the others, but the impact of the arrow had rushed the air out of his lungs, leaving him breathless and speechless. He didn't remember anything after that. But obviously the Woads had captured him, because he knew that none of his fellow knights would ever drag him this brutally, aggravating the pain that was making his legs and arms tingle.

All of a sudden the hands under his arms let go and Lancelot felt himself falling back to the ground. Agony suddenly turned to a whole different level when the arrow in his back touched the ground, pushing it in even further. This time he couldn't keep back a pain-filled scream. His vision began to swim around the edges, darkness was beckoning. Lancelot was only too glad to give himself up to it.

He didn't know for how long he had been out when he suddenly jerked awake as a hand grabbed the arrow shaft sticking out at the side of his back. He was now face down in the dirt. His eyes opened wide when he felt a pull on the arrow. He realized that whoever had captured him was about to pull out the arrow. His scream echoed through the woods for a long time. Instead of blissed unconsciousness, Lancelot's awareness rose to new heights that he never even knew existed as he felt every fiber and muscle in his body protesting against the exit of the arrow. Pain spread with vigour through his body, engulfing him. Sweat soaked him as a downpour would have. Blood was roaring in his ears. When he thought he could take no more, blackness finally took him mercifully.