Chapter seven has been completed in the new style.
This is as close to a Mary Sue as I've ever published. And this is probably as far as I'll go.
I don't own any of the characters except my own. Yadda, Yadda, so don't sue my penniless self!
Chapter 7: Rebuild
Tar fires had been set in the battle field at Arthur's orders before we left and the smoke was still rolling, black and thick, screening the carnage from view, but not from the other senses. Men groaned in pain, Wode women sent up eerie, mournful cries, the smells of blood and sweat and leather mingled with the smoke.
My stomach turned over, but I refused to let myself get sick, I was determined to be strong. I drew a deep breath and began to carefully descend the hill on my crutches, the women following me onto the field of battle.
Once we were below the smoke screen, we could see the results of warfare. "Father, so many souls lost to you! Such a waste," my mind cried out as I walked among the bodies, most of which were Saxons, for the Wodes and the villagers who survived the battle, had already begun to collect their dead and wounded.
I did not see one of the dead bodies twitch as I stopped beside it to try to get my bearings. I shrieked when a hand shot out and grabbed my ankle in a vise-like grip and toppled me onto the muddy, blood soaked ground.
Pain shot through my knees when I landed and I cried out again.
The barbarian's blue eyes pierced my soul as he clung to life. Then a blade flashed. I shrieked again and covered my face with my arms. He knew he was dead and he was determined to take me with him.
A sword whistled through the air and the grip on my ankle loosened.
I looked up to see the young man who had determined to find his father, panting, his face twisted into a mask of hate and confusion. He was staring down at the headless Saxon.
"Oh, Father! How quickly this world turns them into men!" I thought. "Are you alright?" I asked him, touching his wrist lightly.
He turned to look at me and nodded. "I had to, Milady. He wanted to take you with him to the underworld. I had to."
"I know, I know, and I thank you. I am just sorry you were put in this situation." I tried to comfort him.
"Will God forgive me?"
"I think if you ask Him, He will. He knows your heart and he knows that you were saving me."
He nodded, then helped me to my feet.
"Be careful!" I called back to the people that followed. "Some may still be alive and if they get the chance, they will try to kill you."
The young man refused to leave my side as we continued to search. "I will protect you and help you until we find your knight. My mother can find my father."
"And who will protect your mother?" I asked him.
He pondered a moment, then turned to look at his mother. "She is with others. You have no one until we find Sir Gawain."
I fought back tears. "What is your name?"
"Kae. Milady."
"Thank you, Kae."
Over the young man's shoulder, a parting of the smoke, caused by a change in the wind, allowed me to spot Arthur and Guinevere kneeling by a prone form.
My feet felt like lead as I tried to move forward, my fears for Gawain finally finding root. As we neared them, I saw that it was Lancelot that had fallen.
I was ashamed of my relief.
Arthur threw back his head and wept to the smoky skies. "It was my life to be taken!" He cried. "Not this! Never this!"
I shivered despite the heat coming from the tar fires and wrapped my arms around herself as best I could without losing the crutches.
The Roman leader exchanged pained looks with Guinevere, who looked as if she wanted to say something to comfort him, but no sound came from her throat.
Another sound drew my attention as three more knights trudged toward the sad little group.
Bors had a body over has shoulder and Galahad hurried to help him lower it.
I held my breath until she saw the tattooed face. It was Tristan. Sorrow and relief knifed through me again, along with the guilt of my selfishness. But where is he, Father?
A cough made me look up into his blue eyes. He was leaning heavily on a broken spear shaft.
I cried out and dropped my crutches in my rush to reach him.
He sighed into my hair as he wrapped his free arm around my shaking shoulders.
We leaned on each other for several minutes, until Kae came to us with my crutches.
All eyes turned to Arthur, his voice cracking with anguish. "My brave knights, I've failed you. I neither took you off this island, nor shared your fate."
An outraged cry in another language made us all look up.
We had not heard the approach of the Wode leader, Merlin. He walked forward with a purpose until he had reached the little group. He stopped before each of us, including Guinevere, Kae, and I, making strange noises quietly to himself. He came to Arthur last, still kneeling over Lancelot's body. The Wode leader's voice took on the tone of a disappointed teacher as he tapped the side of the Roman's chin with the back of his hand. "No fate is shared." He turned and met everyone's eyes again as he spoke louder. "No fate is shared!" With nothing more to say, he turned and walked away, as silently as he had come.
I was the first to shake off the feeling of melancholy that had us all frozen. "I must tend to the wounded."
This statement set them all in motion. Arthur began directing the clean up of the field.
The wounded were carried into the fortress, where I and the other women could tend them, while the dead were taken to a building to the side to be prepared for burial.
All but one of the tar fires were put out and the dead Saxons were piled onto it to be consumed by the flames.
Kae would not leave my side side until I was safely in the Roman fortress, he said it was because he saw that Gawain was wounded. Once I was was busy tending others, he was about to leave when Gawain beckoned him over.
"I wanted to thank you for looking after her for me. She told me what happened. You are a brave, lad."
He flushed from the praise and mumbled, "You're welcome, Sir Gawain."
"Do you think you would like to become a Knight?" Gawain asked.
He nodded vigorously, too excited to speak.
"Help around the place, and take care of your family first, then come to me in a few days and I will present you to Arthur. If you are accepted, you will be my squire, my apprentice, so to speak."
Kae bowed. "Thank you, Sir Gawain!"
"No, Kae, this is my thanks to you. Now go see to things."
He nodded again and hurried off.
I smiled at Gawain and mouthed, "Thank you."
He smiled back.
Arthur came in and began helping us tend some of the wounded.
There was a stir at the door and I hobbled over to direct the placement of the wounded, but they wanted to see Arthur. As I was about to turn away to call him, I saw the body that they bore.
With a little cry, my knees gave out and the tears I had been holding back, flooded down my face.
"Sir, this Briton was found on the North side of the gate, under the large tree by the road. We were unaware of any of ours being on that side." one of the men explained.
"That is the turncoat scout who was helping them!" the Roman commander growled. "Burn his body with theirs!"
A loud sob escaped my throat, as Gawain made his way to me. "Why, why, why?" I whispered, over and over.
"Bree?" Gawain threw himself to the floor beside me. "Are you alright? What happened?"
I looked up at him. I felt hollow. "Why?" I asked again. "Why did he do it?"
"Who did what, Bree?" Arthur sounded confused.
"That is her brother." Gawain said, looking at the door, his arms around me.
"I thought I had come to terms with it, Gawain. I knew what he had done and had decided to cut him out of the rest of my life. I thought I had accepted that he was gone, dead to me."
Gawain shifted to block my view of the door, while Arthur moved away and spoke quietly to the men before returning and helping both of us to our feet and to a cot so we could sit.
"But Bree, that doesn't change the fact that you love him. He was your brother. And seeing him actually dead is a far cry from just cutting him off from the rest of your life." Gawain said.
"Yes, Bree." Arthur agreed. "It is okay to grieve him. It is late in the night and you have not rested or eaten in hours. You have done enough for now."
"But-"
"Let the others tend to things for a while." Arthur said, soothingly. "Come with me. You can return later."
I reluctantly let him lead me away as Gawain lay back on the cot.
The next thing I knew, someone was washing the blood from my hands, arms and face. I was directed to sit down and food was put in front of me. I ate it as if by habit and at others urging, not out of any hunger I felt.
When I finished, I was allowed to return to Gawain.
He was asleep when I arrived, so I sat on a stool by his side. At some point I must have leaned over and fallen asleep myself, for I awoke to his rough, battle calloused hands were gently clasping my smaller, softer ones. "I have to tell you something, Bree."
I sat up and nodded for him to go on.
"I met God out there on that field. He showed me how much I needed him. He showed me, through your words and prayers that I don't have to carry the burdens of what I've done. He took them away from me, Bree. He set me free; truly free, so that I could take care of you without the baggage of my guilt. I wanted you to know that, and when things are not so busy, I would like you to tell me more about Him, and this time, I promise I will listen."
Joy flooded my heart, almost to the exclusion of the grief. "Thank you, Father!" I whispered to the ceiling, then to Gawain, "I would be happy to!" Laughing and crying at the same time, I flung myself onto him.
He held me tight against his chest, until I started to drift off to sleep again, then he pulled me onto the cot with him and wrapped his blanket around me. I did not wake until morning.
After a quick breakfast, both of us on crutches now, joined others trudging up Badon Hill for more funerals.
No one spoke as Lancelot's body was burned, fulfilling is wishes, we were informed by Arthur. The winds carried away his ashes.
Nor were any words spoken over Tristan.
I supposed that there was nothing left to say except farewell.
There were other funerals all over the hill, and once they were finished, the knights and those that followed us stopped at a few of the others to share the people's grief.
Finally, as the morning approached noon, the knights led me to a secluded place, not among the Britons who had fallen in the battle, but still on the hill, still in the cemetery. A grave digger waited for us, standing near a shrouded body.
"We can not give him a place of honor, Bree, but you deserve a place to mourn your brother." Arthur informed me quietly.
Guinevere helped Gawain support me as I cried and watched my brother's body be buried.
Once the mound had been tapped down over Abelard, Bors stepped forward and kissed me on the forehead, as he would one of his daughters, before quietly leaving.
Galahad did the same.
Then Arthur.
I managed to grip his shirt before he could turn away. "Thank you." I whispered.
"You are welcome." Then he and Guinevere left.
Gawain and I leaned on each other, until I was able to bring my tears under control. "I have to get back to the infirmary."
"You can take all the time you need." he protested.
"He's not going anywhere." I replied and pointed to the fresh grave. "But some of the injured don't have the time for me to spend here just now." I touched his cheek and looked deeply into his eyes. "I will return, and I will allow my heart to grieve until it is finished, but now is not the time."
He nodded and together we hobbled and limped back.
I threw myself into my craft, praying as I worked that God would spare those I tended. Most were saved. A few were beyond my skill and I mourned them along with Abelard on my daily visits to Badon Hill, until the cold of winter caused my knees to ache and forced me to remain indoors.
Kae came to Gawain, who true to his word, petitioned his case to Arthur. The young man was approved and became Gawain's squire, thereby also providing for his family.
The Wodes helped us to gather what wild food we could, since so much of our harvest had been destroyed by the Saxons.
Winter descended upon us with the last of the Northern refugees that made their way to the fort. The winds howled and the snow piled against the stone walls. It was a long, difficult season, but we were determined to survive and begin again.
As Winter Solstice approached, it was apparent that I had been spared the difficulties of a child by the "monks", so I told Gawain that I was ready whenever he was to wed.
Arthur wed us on Solstice night as part of the festivities.
As winter began to loose its grip on the land, and spring began creeping it's way back into Briton, it became increasingly obvious by the size of my growing belly, that the Lord had blessed the union.
We began to prepare the land for a new year of planting, hoping to receive a similar blessing with their harvest.
When Merlin returned and asked Arthur to join him on the seashore, the knights and most of the people followed.
Arthur and Guinevere were wed in the middle of a circle of standing stones, on a hill overlooking the sea, as the people gathered around to watch.
Merlin handed Guinevere a cup of wine. She sipped from it, then offered it to Arthur. After he had also sipped from it and the Wode leader had called down a blessing in his own tongue, he spoke to them, a smile in his voice, though hidden under his beard. "Arthur. Guinevere. Our people are one. As you are."
We cheered and I felt my child jump within me. I was so happy.
Then I noticed Bors lift his youngest child, which he'd been holding throughout the ceremony, to his eye level and heard him say to it over the crowd, in a resigned voice, "Now I'm really gonna' have to marry your mother."
The woman's eyes flashed and she snatched the baby from him. "Who said I'd have you?"
Properly, chastised, the giant of a man stood there looking sheepish.
I could not help it. I laughed.
"King Arthur!" Merlin cried.
"Hail, Arthur!" we called back before kneeling before our king and queen.
"Let every man, woman, child bear witness," the former Roman began. "That from this day all Britons will be united under one common cause." He drew his sword with a ring of steel and the people began to chant his name.
I silently prayed that the Lord would bless the king and queen, and us, their people, as the little life inside of me continued to stir, excited by celebrations outside of the womb. I laid a hand gently against the swell of my stomach and smiled.
I knew that I had been blessed, and that in the midst of tragedy He had sent me a miracle.
Standing still in the midst of the crowding, cheering people, I silently thanked God for all that He had done.