Hunting bastards

The knights had been riding through the forests on the outskirts of Camelot for nearly the whole day and were all in pretty bad moods. Arthur was stewing in his own anger and worry, Lancelot was quietly, calmly concerned, Leon was less effected than the other men but was still unhappy and Gwaine was nearly falling off his horse drunk.

It was typical of Gwaine to manage to remember to bring a flask of mead but forget to bring much else, mused Arthur as he scowled around at the emerald haze of trees. He had been in a fowl temper since they had left Camelot and had been growing more irritable by the minute, mainly due to Gwaine`s inane chatter. Lancelot had always been the level headed one of the knights, so was not blind drunk and wasn't brooding, he was simply riding along with a calm expression on his face. Only those who knew the knight well would be able to tell that under the demeanour - Lancelot was incredibly concerned for his lost friend.

Whereas Gwaine was dealing with fear and anger the only way he knew how - drinking until he couldn't see straight. It gave the world a nice fuzzy edge and made his troubles seem that much further away. Arthur had not wanted Percival to come along with his head wound still keeping him in bed and he didn't want to upset Gwen further by putting her brother in any unnecessary danger. She had almost lost Elyan to Cenred`s spitefulness once before.

The sun was at its highest peak when they saw the next rider coming towards them. The man was obviously sent from Cenred and was weaving his horse through the trees with an ease that showed that he knew the lands well. Leon and Lancelot drew their swords and rode in front of Arthur in a defensive position, Gwaine tried to join them, but promptly fell off of his horse doing so. The king sighed and drew his sword as the rider approached him. "We're not over the border yet, we have every right to be here!" called Arthur as the rider came to a halt in front of them.

"A present from king Cenred!" the rider called back and threw a package to Sir Lancelot who caught it in one hand, frowning at Cenred`s soldier. "And a warning - there's more where that came from!"

The rider rode away faster than he had arrived - probably because he heard about what happened to the last messenger. He was a dot on the horizon within a minute. "What is it?" Arthur asked.

Lancelot gingerly untied the strings holding the package closed and let out a shout of disgust and horror. "That fucking bastard!" It was the first time that any of the knights had ever heard Lancelot swear - even when Lancelot had been gored by that boar a year ago, he hadn't sworn.

"What is it?!" shouted Arthur, this time in alarm, Lancelot looked very pale, almost sickly so, as he twisted around in his saddle to pass the package to his king.

Arthur carefully took the bloodstained cloth square and let out a similar shout to Lancelot, his face was a mix of utter horror and of raging fury. Nestled in the red soaked cloth was a single sapphire colored eye. It stared blankly up at him, and to Arthur, it seemed like the eye still held the same expression of fear and pain that it had when it had been cut out. It was Merlin's eye. Cenred had hurt his friend – mutilated him. The bastard was going to pay for this. Arthur spurred his horse into a gallop and yelled back to his knights "Faster! We've got a bastard to hunt!"