There
would always bet that darkness overshadowing him,
That tightening
in his chest that leaping of his heart.
There would always be that
slight shudder of fear , that would cause his arrows to miss and his
sword blows to be less lethal.
This fear that could not be,
This
fear that wasn't allowed, that none of his fellow knights ever
spoke about, but that he knew everyone always carried with
them.
Gawain would nervously try to untangle his hair, or would
cut the inside of his thumb over and over again to check if his axe
was still sharp enough, which it always was.
Lancelot would try
to woo the most beautiful women, but then again that's what they
all did wasn't it?
Women and ale to scare away their nightmares,
and memories of home.
A home they would probably never lay their
eyes on again.
Galahad sometimes drunk so much that he'd have to
be carried away to his chambers, while retching all over the
place.
Bors would conceive yet another with Vanora, maybe out of
fear he still did not have enough offspring to care for his lover
after he was gone.
Since Dagonet had perished or " given his life for the sake of others" as Arthur would courtly put it. The fear only increased.
All of them were getting slower, older.
And even he, who would always keep his cool, felt that indefinable shudder going through his limbs from time to time.
Arthur tried to keep their spirits high, but even Galahad and Gawain seemed to have lost their good natured bantering skills and dry annoying humour.
The angst of not returning to the wall, to their mindless pastimes even, scared them.
These men, always big burly and strong were afraid.
Their fear was getting bigger, growing with every battle they only just won.
Savages are entering the lands from the north and the east, leaving everyone for dead and burning down every village or settlement they passed.
They´re fast, young and willing to fight.
They know nothing of the bloodshed, the loss, the death.
The smell of burned flesh had not yet reached their nostrils, had not yet unleashed the adrenaline in their blood.
Those thousands of young men would not know what was waiting for them.
Six knights who were tired, getting old and afraid of death.
Now that Rome had abandoned them, no one really knew what to do.
They were all free men now, but it all did not matter anymore.
They were as good as dead.
They had no life to return to, no family, they knew nothing other than fighting skills and how to take lives.
They were as good as dead.