Arthur and the knights headed east again. Arthur had sent Bors and Tristan to retrieve Lancelot and bring him back immediately. Arthur wished he could go with them but he knew that he had to lead these people so he just trotted around on his horse always straining his ears to hear the sound of his knights coming back with his best friend.
Nothing. He heard nothing for two hours and he began to feel uneasy. Where were they? What did the Saxons do to Lancelot? Is he even alive? What made them take him of all the knights? Why was his dragon medallion left behind it was always around Lancelot's neck and he rarely took it off?
Arthur's mind could have easily answered some of those questions but he wasn't thinking strait and he was so worried about his friend that he could barely hear what was going on around him.
'Arthur. What is making you so worried looking?' Guinevere asked from her position on a horse of which she borrowed from one of the villagers
Arthur had jumped when she first started speaking but he relaxed a little at the sound of her voice. Arthur got closer to her and said in a quiet voice, 'one of my knights was taken yesterday night. I sent Bors and Tris…two of my knights to retrieve him but they aren't back yet.'
'Lancelot was taken by Saxons I presume.' She stated.
Arthur nodded his head but then stopped. 'Wait how did you know it was Lancelot?'
'First of all I am a woman and I saw how close you two were and I see the worry in your eyes now so I know that this knight is closer than the others. And secondly he is a hard man to miss and I do not miss much.' She smiled sweetly at him. 'Don't worry. Your knight will be fine.' She then sped up the horse and talked with Dagonet who was in the caravan with little Lucan.
Dagonet looked at her and suddenly his facial expression changed and he looked over at Arthur. Arthur looked away for he did not want one of his knights to see how worried he was.
Dagonet got off the caravan and onto his horse. He rode to Galahad and Gawain who were talking about the woman of Samartia again. He trotted past them then came up from behind to squeeze himself between them. They instantly stopped talking and listened to what he had to say. Galahad and Gawain both looked up at Arthur in unison. Their looks asked him so many questions and once again he had to look away. He heard the shriek of a hawk and he looked up to see Tristan's hawk flying overhead.
Tristan must be close. Arthur thought to himself. Or the bird is just looking for him. Arthur began panicking and relaxed himself a bit by praying to any god who would listen.
Lancelot was stripped of his clothing and one after the other the Saxons forced themselves upon him. He wanted to cry out but he knew what would happen if he did. He stopped counting the Saxons after ten and he forever forced himself to merely grimace as the Saxons dirtied him.
He saw the last Saxon leave out of the caravan and he was so much in pain that he could not move into a more comfortable position.
It was dark still and he feared what was to happen to him come morning. He was so tired and he would have drifted asleep were it not for the pain and were it not for the man who threw the flap of the caravan open. The man was huge. When he crawled into the caravan the caravan seemed to sink a little into the ground. Lancelot was suddenly very awake and very frightened.
'My fellows tell me that no one can break you. They call me Boris and I am here to show them that you are breakable.' The man took a step forward and then another. Lancelot faced his fear of pain and moved behind the post so that he was squashed into the corner. Boris took no time to reach for Lancelot behind the post and pull him out of his hiding spot by his ankle. Lancelot was suddenly very aware that this man was the strongest of them all and that he probably weighed a tone. Lancelot closed his eyes and wished all of it was a dream but when he opened his eyes he was that Boris had removed his pants and was about to enter him. The first thrust was so painful that Lancelot had to cry out. Boris liked that and the next was harder. Lancelot cried out again. He bit his lip of the next on but that only made his lip bleed.
Boris held Lancelot's arms down with tremendous force. Boris was nearing his climax and was becoming very heavy. Lancelot was having trouble breathing with the heavy man upon his chest. He was lifted up and thrown back down with every thrust which Lancelot knew was bruising his back terribly. He cried out as Boris orgasmed. Boris was too tired to continue but as he was pulling his pants back up he seemed proud of himself.
'Looks like I was the one to break you after all.' Boris said and left the caravan to tell the others. Lancelot noticed a lot of new blood on the floor of the caravan and he closed his eyes knowing that it was his own. He curled himself into a ball he didn't really care how painful it was, and cried silently.
Cynric came running to the caravan and threw open the flap. He smiled so wide when he saw Lancelot's form.
'Oi, Boris! You with get an extra brew for this you slick bastard. Lancelot heard Boris cry out in glee. Cynric stared at Lancelot for a while longer just taking it all in. Then he himself mounted the caravan. Lancelot thought it was all done and over but he was wrong.
'I wonder if you will break easier now.' He said and he too undid his pants.
Lancelot cried harder at the mere thought of what was to come. He knew that this was their leader and he knew that if he could kill this man the Saxons would probable be stupefied and would be dumbfounded on what is to be done. They would turn back and go to Cerdic. He would probably die but it would give Arthur the time to get the people to Britain's great wall and to safety. He then knew that he was just thinking about getting Guinevere to safety. She shook his head at the memory of her beautiful body and tried to concentrate at the task at hand.
Cynric had a dagger in the back of his belt. That would be around his ankles soon so he forgot that idea. There was a closer dagger by Cynric's shoulder and that he knew he could get. But would he be fast enough?
Cynric positioned himself and thrusted. Lancelot was so caught up on with to get the dagger that it came at a surprise and he cried out.
'Ah yes. You are now very breakable and fragile. I love a woman, well in this case a man, who is delicate. Just makes me want to try harder to break the god damned thing.' Cynric said and laughed.
Lancelot was looking around in-between thrusts at what he could do. He groaned inside and moaned for it to stop which only enticed Cynric more. He realized suddenly that the rope attaching his arms to the post had become loose. He still couldn't get his hands free but he would be able to reach the dagger. Depending on how violent Cynric got. He tried to get it and almost got it. Lancelot hated to say this but he wished Cynric would go just a little harder so that he could reach the dagger. He decided to tempt fate and cry out. Cynric looked up at Lancelot's face which Lancelot made to look as though he was in terrible pain. The fact was that Lancelot was in terrible pain so he was very convincing. Cynric was so convinced that he got even harder. Lancelot got a hold of the hilt and was able to get it loose but Cynric was taking longer thrusts and so it took him longer to get to the position Lancelot needed. He tried once more and finally got it as Cynric orgasmed. Cynric fell upon Lancelot breathing heavily.
'You smell pretty, Arthur.' Cynric said slowly looking up at Lancelot's face. His eyes went wide when he saw that Lancelot had Cynric's own dagger at his throat.
'Get off of me.' Lancelot demanded.
'Oh really. Well you are in no stat to be threatening people with daggers now are you?' Cynric said through his teeth.
Cynric had a very good point Lancelot realized but then he reminded himself that he was the one with the weapon. Cynric moved only a little and before Lancelot could slit Cynric's throat Cynric had plunged the dagger from his belt into Lancelot's stomach. The dagger in Lancelot's hands fell to the floor. Cynric got off of Lancelot and pulled up his pants. He retrieved the dagger from the floor and put it back into the sheath at his shoulder. He stood over Lancelot who was cringing in pain and retrieved his other dagger which was embedded in Lancelot's gut. He tore it out of him in a way that ripped Lancelot's skin a little.
Lancelot cried out and then tightly shut his eyes.
'Keep that as a reminder to you. Only fight when you are on the upper hand and when you are not tied to a post.' Cynric put Lancelot's clothes back on him figuring he would die before morning. He thought that such a mighty man as Artorius Castus should die with at least a little modestly. Cynric turned and left the caravan. Lancelot scarcely heard Cynric bark to his men that Lancelot was not to be touched until the morning when they would drag him out and tie him to the back of the caravan where he would be dragged along the road for all Saxons to see.
Lancelot threw up blood every few minutes and was certain that he would die this night.
'Why did you choose me to come wif yeh?' Bors demanded. 'Why not Galahad or Gawain even?'
'Because even thought you are one of the largest of us you are still one of the quietest and one of the best on their feet.' Tristan answered riding a little ahead of Bors.
Bors snarled at him and Tristan smiled.
'What is making you say all this, Bors? When we come back with Lancelot you will forever be in Arthur's debt.'
'Nothin'.' Bors said in a very grumpy voice.
'It's about Vanora isn't it?' Tristan asked.
'Now how in bloody hell did you know that?' Bors asked angrily wondering if all the knights knew.
'Well I am rather observant and I specifically remember you talking with Vanora and then you getting all mad while glancing at Lancelot as though you would kill 'im.' Tristan stated.
Bors was dumbfounded.
'So even when you're drunk you are still sober. God; is there any thing that gets by you?'
'How would I know? It gets by me remember.'
Bors rolled his eyes.
'You don't have to do that you know.'
'God damn it man you're a bloody odd fellow.' Bors said although he was getting more and more cheerful.
'So what is wrong with Vanora? And why do you want to kill Lancelot?'
'He did it with me woman and now she is gunna have 'is child.' Bors said and tried not to show too much emotion.
'I see.' Tristan whispered.
'Oh really? How can you understand?'
'No Bors I mean I see the Saxons and it would be wise to shut up and leave your grudge on Lancelot for after we find him and take him back.' Tristan whispered and got off his horse. Bors did the same. They find there way to the border of the camp without being noticed.
'Okay. We are going to both go looking for him but of you find him look up and find my hawk in the sky. He will tell me when you found him. The same goes for you. If I find him first, she will shriek really loudly. Till then she will be silent.' Tristan said and when Bors was about to ask a question, he disappeared into the camp.
Bors turned to ask Tristan a question but found his friend gone.
'If it's a race you want it's a race your gunna get.' He whispered to himself. He walked through the camp undetected. He was looking through a caravan when he heard the hawk shriek loudly.
'God damn it Tristan your good at everything.' The Saxons didn't seem to notice the hawk and Bors was able to get out without detection. He got back to their horses that were waiting just over a hill in the forest and waited for Tristan there.
He heard footsteps coming and he readied himself incase it was a scout. Tristan came over the hill breathing heavily with a body over his shoulder and blood all over his face.
'Jesus, Tristan. You got to kill Saxon too in the amount of time you found him? Well that's not fair.' He stated and laughed but when Tristan's face got serious.
What happened to him, Tris?' Bors asked.
Tristan laid Lancelot on the ground and Bors turned away and hurled into a bush.
'You've seen and done worse, Bors.' Tristan said as Bors steadied himself.
'What's with you now?'
'It's just… I dunno.'
'Well let's get him back to Arthur. Do you want to take him?' Tristan asked.
Bors wasn't even looking but he shook his head.
They got into their horses and rode away towards Arthur undetected by the Saxons.
