Sorry I didn't update yesterday. I was busy, and it completely slipped my mind. Here's the chapter.
"And the only solution was to stand and fight. And my body was loosened. I was set alight. But you came over me like some holy rite, and although I was burning, you're the only light."-Florence and the Machine
*+*Aderyn*+*
The Saxons stood on the other side of the lake, dirty and covered in thick furs, most of their faces almost covered with facial hair. They were a ragtag bunch, that was certain, at least.
"Hold until I give the command," Arthur said.
One of the Saxon archers stepped forward and took a shot, but his arrow didn't even get halfway to us. I grinned at that. Saxons must not be as good at craftsmanship as they were at killing.
"I think they're waiting for an invitation," Arthur said. "Bors, Tristan."
"They're far out of range!" Guinevere said. Arthur ignored her.
Both men nocked three arrows at once, letting them fly. They rocketed across the lake, each one striking down a Saxon easily. Arthur gave Guinevere a smug look, and she reciprocated a glare.
The Saxons, realizing that this distance was going to get them nowhere, foolishly started across the ice towards us. I lifted my bow when the knights did, pulling the string taut.
"Aim for the wings of the ranks," Arthur ordered. "Make them cluster."
I switched my aim to the right flank, narrowing my eyes in on a particularly large Saxon. Arthur shot first, followed instantaneously by the rest of us. Saxons on both sides dropped. Just as Arthur predicted, the men began to pack in closer together in fear of getting picked off. The ice protested beneath us, but we nocked again, releasing our arrows a moment after Arthur.
Saxons continued to fall, and the more that died, the closer the rest moved together. Their leader began to realize what we were doing, and shouted at his men to hold the ranks but fear of our arrows kept them huddling closer. When he started to threaten death upon them, they started to spread out again. We continued to shoot, but they just kept coming closer.
"It's not going to break!" Arthur deduced. "Back, fall back! Prepare for combat!"
I dropped my bow in favor of my sword, concentrating on my anger so that the fear hiding just beneath the surface couldn't shove through. I asked for this, I asked to come. If I am to die here, I will do so with dignity and bring as many of these bastards with me as I can.
An almighty roar echoed through the canyon, and Dagonet, wielding his colossal axe, went running out across the ice without breathing a word of his plan to anyone.
"Dag!" Bors bellowed.
Without a second thought in my mind, I scooped up my bow and quiver and went running after him. I felt Tristan make a grab for me, but the fabric of my cloak slipped through his fingers.
"Cover them!" Arthur bellowed from behind me.
I ran to where Dagonet was breaking the ice with his axe, skidding to one knee beside him and beginning shooting at the archers who were trying to take him down as rapidly as I could. Arrows from the knights flew over my head, adding to my volley.
"Come on, Dagonet!" I encouraged, loosing an arrow into a Saxon's heart. "You can do this!" A bolt hit him, but he barely noticed. "Think of Lucan and the knights and Pagos, all the ones you love! Think of home! You can still make it! You have to keep going!" An arrow grazed my thigh, but I didn't even feel the pain. I was running on pure adrenaline, unable to even feel the blistering cold wind against my cheeks.
Another bolt from a crossbow hit Dagonet, this one knocking him backwards. "No!" I screeched between my teeth, firing off my final arrow.
The knight managed to lift himself to his knees, aiming one last blow to the ice. It finally shattered, cracking all the way to the Saxons, who began to fall into the freezing cold water. Dagonet slipped beneath as well, but I grabbed two handfuls of his cloak and heaved. He continued to sink, no matter how much I pulled. I was starting to be dragged under by his weight, already my arms were completely under as I clutched desperately onto the fallen knight. I dug my toes into the ice and craning my neck to keep my face from submerging.
A hand came from behind me, grabbing onto Dagonet's other side and helping me pull him out. It was Arthur, quickly joined by Bors, holding up a shield to block the arrows being shot at us. We started to drag Dagonet back to the others, but he was so heavy, it was slow going even with three of us. Arrows rained down around us thicker than the worst Briton downpour. My arms were numb from the cold water, but all I could think about was how we couldn't lose one of the knights when they were so close to freedom. Their service couldn't end with such grief.
"Pull back!" Lancelot was screaming. The ice beneath us was beginning to crack too. We were almost to the knights. So close.
Arthur's feet slid out from under him, knocking all four of us over. Dagonet landed on top of me, and I couldn't get out from under his girth.
"Help us!" Bors yelled.
Gawain and Tristan ran to our aid while the other three continued to shoot. Dagonet was lifted off of me and dragged as far out of the shooting range as they could get him.
"Out of the way!" I yelled at the knights, kneeling at the wounded man's side. I began to assess the damage. There were a half-dozen cross bow bolts sticking out of his side. If I left them in, they might cause damage to nearby organs, but I knew removing them would only make him bleed out faster. What was I supposed to do? There was a part of me that whispered that it was obvious I could do nothing, but I pushed it away. I needed to do something, anything.
"Bandages!" I shrieked. "Bring me bandages now!"
A length of white cloth was handed to me, and I put it between my teeth. Placing one hand on Dagonet's chest and wrapping the other around a bolt shaft, I yanked as hard as I could. It came free, but the knight didn't react to the removal at all. That wasn't a good sign. Nor was the blood that spurted up out of the wound like a geyser. I pressed the bandages onto the wound to stop the bleeding, using every bit of my bodyweight to add more pressure. Within seconds, red liquid oozed through my fingers, soaking through inches of fabric without difficulty. That was when I knew that something vital had been pierced.
"Dagonet, stay with me!" Bors was yelling at his friend. "Dagonet! Stay with me!"
Dag coughed up some blood, gurgling as he struggled to breathe. His grayish-blue eyes, which had always looked so sad before, locked onto Bors's, and for once, they seemed content. His chest expanded with breath one final time before stilling completely. I kneeled there, staring in shock at Dagonet's open, empty eyes, unable to believe I'd lost him.
Standing up in a hurry, I whirled away from the body, striding away. It wasn't until I was staring at my hands, crimson with the knight's blood, that I realized just how bad I was shaking. My eyes flicked over towards the remaining Saxons. They stood on the opposite side of the gap in the ice, watching their comrades drown. The leader was glaring at us hatefully, his teeth bared. A man to his right caught my eye, dressed in clothes much simpler than the others and too scrawny to be a warrior for the Saxons who valued size over skill. He caught my eye even from the distance between us, and smirked. And just like that his identity clicked in my mind.
"FACHTNA!" I screamed. "YOU TRAITOR! I'LL KILL YOU FOR WHAT YOU'VE DONE!"
I started to march across the ice right there, but arms came around my torso, lifting me off the ground and pinning my arms to my sides. I struggled, but they forced me to my knees.
"Don't get within range of their archers!" Tristan hissed in my ear.
"That's him!" I ground out through my teeth, not taking my eyes off of the evil man as he grinned at my reaction. "That's the bastard who caused Drenna's death and shot me! And now he's helping the Saxons! He took part in killing Dagonet!"
"Now is not the time," he responded, too calmly for my liking. "If you get any closer, they'll shoot you. We just lost Dagonet. Do you want us to dig a second grave when we get home?" I stopped fighting him then, slumping towards the ice. "You'll get your chance."
I accepted that, standing up and turning my back to them. There were more important things to be done right now.
/\/\/\/\/\
We put Dagonet in his saddle and covered him with a black blanket. The rest of the ride to the Wall was somber and almost completely silent. It was all I could do to keep it together when I felt like curling up into a ball in bed and staying there for a few days.
The carriages followed us through the gates at the Wall, but only the Honorius's joined us in the square before the Keep. We dismounted, bloody, filthy, and weighed down with grief. We must have looked half-dead to the rest of the world.
Gendry came bustling up to me to grab Egryn's reins, smiling welcomingly until he caught sight of my expression. His smile fell immediately. "What happened out there?" he asked.
I just shook my head, walking around him to watch as Germanius tried to greet Alecto, who kept stepping away from the bishop in an effort to not be touched by the man.
"Lucan!" I heard Guinevere shout. The little boy came dashing towards the Keep. A guard tried to grab him, but Galahad ripped a dagger from his belt, pointing it to the man's throat with a look in his eyes that said not to test him.
Lucan went to Dagonet's body, still atop his horse, and took the ring he always wore from his finger, tears tracking paths down his dirt-covered cheeks. The sight made a lump fill my throat, and my fight to hold back tears became ever harder.
Germanius watched this interaction, and then shook it off, laughing good-naturedly. "Great knights," he exclaimed, "you are free now! Give me the papers!" One of his legion opened the leather box, and held it out. "Come, come! Your papers of safe conduct throughout the Roman empire!" None of them stepped forward to take them, and his smile began to slip. "Take it. Arthur…"
The Commander went nose to nose with the Bishop, and said quietly, "Bishop Germanius…friend of my father…" The Bishop's face turned to steel, and Arthur left, slamming the door to the Keep behind him.
Lancelot was the one to get the papers, yanking them from the box and handing them out to the others. The second Galahad's were in his hands, he walked away. Gawain watched him go, and then looked down at his own scroll, twisting it between his fingers contemplatively. Tristan took his, running his thumb over the surface. I wondered if it felt how expected, or if he wasn't experiencing the emotions he expected to once he had them. I knew I wasn't feeling anything like how I expected to when he was freed.
Lancelot went to hand Bors his, but the man stared right past him, tears filling his eyes. "Bors," Lancelot said. The knight continued to stare off into space, so Lancelot nudged him in the chest.
"Bors," he said louder. He finally looked over, and Lancelot handed him the unclaimed scroll. "For Dagonet."
Bors took them, and remonstrated, "This doesn't make him a free man." He turned to the Bishop, throwing both papers at his feet. "He's already a free man. He's dead!"
He stormed off, and Lancelot was left to pick up the papers he'd left behind. Tristan walked up to the man holding the box, inspected it for a moment, and then lifted it out of the man's grip and grabbed a hold of my hand before heading into the Keep.
Our room didn't look the same anymore. Nothing at the fort did. I unbuckled my sword and laid it on top of the dresser, followed with my cloak. Removing one dagger from my boot, I paused, clenching it in my fist and then threw it across the room so that it embedded itself in the door with a thwack. Tristan put the box and his papers down by my sword, and then left the room without a word.
I headed towards the bathhouse, in desperate need to clean all of the blood from my arms and hands. After seeing it was empty, I used a chair to block it shut so I could be alone. I undressed, and sunk into the water. Finally all my scratches and cuts began to make themselves known. I must have been nicked by more arrows than I thought. I went under the water, and stayed there until my lungs burned. When I reached the surface of the water, I was crying. After that, I couldn't stop. I just sobbed for nearly a quarter of an hour as I scrubbed under my nails to remove Dagonet's blood and ran shaking hands through my hair to untangle it. After I managed to control my shuddering sobs, I got out of the tub. Realizing I forgot clean clothes, I put the others back on to return to my room.
It was still empty when I arrived. I stripped off the dirty clothes and while I was scouring through the dresser for new ones, the door opened. I didn't turn around, not really caring who saw me naked at the moment while my tears were building back up. I found out it was indeed Tristan when his hands caressed my hips and his lips met my shoulder.
"I tried," I whispered.
"I know."
"I'm sorry."
"You don't have to be."
One tear started to make the trek down my cheek, but Tristan wiped it away before it got too far. I stepped out of his hold to continue my search for clothes, wiping my eyes dry at the same time.
Once I was dressed, Tristan grabbed the box he'd stolen, and we made our way to the graveyard. Dagonet's cloth-wrapped body was already in the ground when we arrived, surrounded by the knights, Arthur, Guinevere, Lucan, Jols, Ganis, Fulcinia, and Alecto. Even Naveen and Elaine were there. The former bolted away from Gawain when she saw me, weaving through the graves until she crashed into me, hugging me painfully tight. I crushed her to me, basking in the familiarity of this. Elaine came up a second later, wrapping her thin arms around us as well. And we stood there like that as the knights all began to shovel dirt over top of Dagonet.
They eventually let me go, and Elaine kissed my cheek. I couldn't even muster up a smile for them.
After the grave was covered, Arthur drove Dagonet's sword into the mound of earth, and lit a bowl of incense to place on top. Tristan opened the box, and Gawain put Dagonet's papers inside, placing it next to his sword.
"Goodbye, old friend," Gawain said, head bowed. "We'll be along soon." Naveen wrapped her arms around his waist supportively, and we all pretended not to notice Galahad crying.
"Gall dod o hyd i heddwch yn haws i chi at farwolaeth nag yr oedd mewn bywyd," I murmured under my breath.
Everyone began to trickle away, one by one. Tristan put his hand on the hilt of Dagonet's sword for a second, and then we started to head back to the main area of the fort. Guinevere followed Arthur, wherever he was going, but suddenly their affairs seemed much less important.
As we were about to enter the Keep, I heard my name being called. Desiderius was rushing towards us, smiling. "Go," I said to Tristan. "I'll meet you in our room." He didn't need to be told twice.
Desiderius finally reached me, beaming. "I just heard you got in. How long have you been back?"
"A while," I deadpanned.
His smile slipped away little by little as I continued to stare at him with absolutely no expression on my face. "What happened out there?" he asked.
For some reason, that question amused me. What hadn't happened would have been a better inquiry. But I figured getting right to the point would get me back to the remoteness of my room faster.
"We lost Dagonet."
"Oh, gods," he gasped. "Aderyn, I'm so sorry."
"We all are," I replied. "I'm sorry, I'm not feeling very up to conversation right now."
"Of course you're not," he agreed. "It's completely understandable. But you know, when you do feel like…you can come to me if you need to, is what I mean."
"Thank you," I mumbled. "Bye, Desiderius."
*+*Tristan*+*
The first time I saw Dagonet was when they were retrieving me from my village in Sarmatia. He'd already been traveling with the Romans for days, and it looked like he was having the most trouble out of all the others. His weakness annoyed me. Someone so much larger and older than everyone else should be able to control himself better.
But then we were attacked by rebels, and four of them had me cornered. I wasn't as skilled then, and could never have taken them all on my own. He came to my aid, saving my life. After that, we had an accord that lasted to the very last day of his life. We backed each other up, the two silent observers of the Sarmatian knights.
Now I was the only one.
I stripped off my armor and my weapons, placing them exactly where they were supposed to go. The servants for the Keep must have put fresh water in the basin while we were at the grave, because it was warm when I tested it. I took off my tunic and cleaned myself up. Aderyn walked in and sat down on the bed, that same dead look in her eye from when Drenna died had returned, and I was not a man with enough words to comfort her.
I started to change into fresh clothes, and she removed her boots. "Are you hungry?" she asked in a whisper.
"No," I answered.
"Me neither."
I watched while she unraveled her hair from the plait. It hung around her shoulders, still wet from her bath. The tunic I'd had in my hand to put on fell to the ground, forgotten. I circled the bed until I stood in front of her. She studied me with bloodshot eyes, her lip beginning to quiver.
"Don't cry," I said, kneeling before her. "Don't."
"Am I cursed?" she questioned urgently. "Is everyone I care about going to die? Are you going to die?"
"I'm not going anywhere."
"You better not be," she growled. Then she kissed me.
It was like we picked right back up from our last kiss in this room before we left on the mission, the first one where we were rough with each other. I pushed her back down on to the bed to lie on top of her, and she tugged on my hair while I pried open her lips with my own. Tongues fought for dominance while I ripped at her clothes, wanting to feel as much of her bare skin as I could. I'd never needed her like I did now, so desperately that she became more essential than air in my lungs.
Her tunic came off, and I kissed and bit my way down her neck, pausing to lick both of the tattoos that marked her as mine, feeling her pulse beat beneath my tongue. The sound of her heavy breathing filled my ears, and her hands tangled in my hair, tugging and scratching at my scalp. I nipped the hollow beneath her throat, and then kissed the scar the barbarian gave her when he shoved a knife into her chest. It was remarkably close to her heart, a miracle that he hadn't even nicked it.
I sat back on my heels for a moment to gaze at her in what I wasn't ashamed to admit was awe. She stared right back, face flushed, eyes alight with expectancy. So many times her life had been threatened, and she emerged from each one. Never unscathed, but alive nonetheless. I put my hand on the spot right between her breaths, able to feel her heartbeat and the breaths that entered and exited her lungs. She covered my hand with both of hers, and we sat there for several long minutes.
Eventually I pulled my hand away in order to slip off her breeches, shedding mine as well before covering her with my body again, trying to convey everything I felt for her into the kiss I placed upon her lips. The wretchedness of before was gone, replaced with something much more amatory, unexpected from both of us.
She sighed an 'I love you' into my ear and I kissed her jaw, and I didn't think about Dagonet or Saxons or anything else. It was just me and her in the world, and I loved her more than ever before.
Gall dod o hyd i heddwch yn haws i chi at farwolaeth nag yr oedd mewn bywyd: May peace find you easier in death than it did in life
I know you guys wanted Dagonet to live, but I thought it would be unrealistic if they all survived. Sorry, but I like to stick to the plot.
Chapter coming again next Thursday, as usual.
