They went outside. Although no one knew of their intrigues, they acted as if they did. They avoided long eye contact, exchanged short words, and kept quiet. Galahad did not want to get embarrassed in front of the knights or Creiddylad. Their avoidance and silence made it more obvious. The knights remained quiet on that subject. After the morning with Marius, the caravan proceeded to the ice covered lake. They lined up with their arrows planning to cluster the Saxons in hopes to fall into a watery death. Creiddylad overhead the banter between Lancelot and Guinevere. "There are a lot of lonely men out there."
"Don't worry, I won't let them rape you." Creiddylad smirked to herself. That women has audacity, hopefully a good fighter too.
She looked up and saw Galahad. Their eyes locked together. Galahad lifted his marked palm. She lifted hers. Creiddylad mouthed "I love you." He replied and then mounted the arrow on his bow. This is what he feared, putting her in danger against unassuring odds. He quickly moved his mind in battle mode.
The Saxons started to advance. The ice failed to break. Dagonet bravely (and perhaps stupidly) charged with his axe to weaken the ice. He was struck with an arrow and his body felt more weighted. Arthur and Bors beseeched him and assisted him out of the cross fire. The battle was over but the war was yet to come. Guinevere shot one last arrow and nearly missed the young Saxon leader. The knights moved quickly out of sight. Their main focus was Dagonet. He had multiple arrow injuries and suffering hypothermia. Bors was practically in hysterics, "He's going to make it. He always has." He paced about like a caged animal. Gaiwan and Arthur were tending to Dagonet.
Arthur looked at the injuries, "If we pull all the arrows out, he will bleed.
"If they stay in, he will be infected," Gaiwan countered.
Creiddylad was cleaning his face, "Why won't just pull the ones aren't near organs? Then at the Wall, the surgeons can do what they can."
Lancelot interjected, "I agree with Creiddylad. We need to do the least things without compromising his condition further."
They took Creiddylad's advice. They traveled urgently back to Hadrian's Wall. Jols stood as he anticipated their arrival. He immediately began to tend to the fallen Dagonet. The rest of knights fall into the coming home routine. The Bishop Germanius came out with the scrolls that released them from their duties. They took them bitterly. Creiddylad found herself lost in the midst of everything. So, she departed and find a place of solace. Some maids pointed her in the direction of small garden. She laid on the ground and stared at the sky. Is it really over? Or is there more blood to be shed and lives to take? And what of Dagonet? Is it right just to leave this land and its peril? Her thoughts kept racing and didn't see Galahad blocking her view of the sky.
"Are you well?" he asked.
"Yes, just thinking to myself."
He sat down next to her, "About what?"
"Everything." His silence wanted her to elaborate. "Dagonet, the Saxons, the Wall, us, the future..."
"I believe we have the same thoughts." Galahad sat and moved his hand onto hers. Creiddylad sat up and forgot the scroll next to Galahad.
"Is that what I think it is?"
"Aye?"
She pounced on him, "Galahad, you've done it! You made it," she attacked him with kisses all over his head.
"You are free!" she cheered.
"About time, I must say," he agreed, "What should I do first as a free man?" he asked suggestively.
"I believe you should..." she approached with her face, "Bathe."
"Oh, and you have no need to?" She pushed his shoulders lightly. Galahad gathered her up on his shoulder and ran inside. During her protests and whining, he carried her to the bathing room. He then plopped her in the bathtub with her clothes still on.
"That was uncalled for," she said as she wiped the wet hair off her face. He could hardly controlled his laughter. Galahad did not laugh like that in years. He knelt on the ground beside her and wiped off the droplets off her face. She then splashed his face.
"Careful, wouldn't want to get this wet," he referred to his discharge document.
"I suppose not. Unless you care to explain to the bishop why you need a replication because you got it wet from a bath."
"No, I wouldn't think that would go well."
"Well, since I am already in here. I might as well make the best of it." Galahad gave an eager look.
"Oh no, you must leave."
"Pardon? It's not like I haven't seen it all. But one cannot be too sure..."
"Out!"
"Aye. I will be waiting for you most impatiently," he kissed her.
Creiddylad replied, "Am I not worth waiting for?"
"Forever and beyond."
He exited and left her to soak and clean. Galahad wanted to shed the dirt, sweat, and weather accumulated over his travels. He bathed in his own room. He paced a bit after his thorough clensing. He occupied his mind by unpacking. Galahad's physical fidgets were a result from the uncertainty of what the future is now. He always knew what would be come of him the next day, a knight for Rome. Even with the scroll, this has stirred more uneasiness. The Saxons still held a heavy presence. Traveling will not be uneventful. Can they even make it to Sarmatia? Is it worth going back? What of here? What about Arthur? What about Bors, Vanora, their children, Jols, and all the other people he had met along the way? What of his fallen brothers who rest under the hardened earth? Creiddylad watched his thought process in the doorway as he stood motionless to holding one of his belongings. She saw the giddy, self-assured man lost not only inside himself, but in his present life. "Galahad?" He was brought back to the world he lived in. Creiddylad approached him and placed her clean, oil-scented hand on his face.
"For the first time, I can make a choice of my own will and I don't know what to do," he exhaled.
"You do not have to choose immediately. We just got back."
"Time shouldn't be squandered leisurely. The Saxons..."
"Shh, I trust your decision before, I will trust your future one. Rest your mind to think clearer later."
Creiddylad took the object in his hand and set it on a table. "I love you," she said. She felt the need to say it to him in his time of lost. He nearly pounced on her and started to show physical acts of his passion. She broke the space between them and fallen softly on the bed. Galahad took a moment and just position himself next to her. He wanted to relish her. She took his hand with the scar on it.
"I think we should wed," was the only thing that made sense to him as he blurted more than he wanted to.
Her hand stroking stopped. "Do not say such things because of previous events."
"It isn't because of the brush with death or the unknown future. But because I love you. And I give you me. You are more important than the freedom I acquired. What is the point of being free, if I cannot have you? You are my hope, my blessing, my happiness, my promise." He sat up to exemplify his seriousness. She followed as she sat up. "Promise me, that your heart only beats for me for your remaining days," he said.
"I promise, my love."
