A/N: Here it is! The last chapter before the epilogue! I hope you like it - CRUNCH TIME PEOPLE! ;)

Thanks a million to Happyface8898 for favouriting - Much appreciated! :)

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XX.

They had been riding for three hours, and Gawain had begun the pity the infantry, travelling on foot. Arthur of course, had insisted on a number of breaks to keep them and the horses fresh, but even still, he did not envy them.

"'Ow much further deh we 'ave teh go?" Bors complained lightheartedly, "Me arse is killin' me!"

Arthur smiled grimly at his men, "Not far, my friends, not far." he said, and each knight fell into silence, noting the double meaning to his words.

"Arthur, if what Merlin's scouts said is true, they outnumber us three to one!" Lancelot spoke up quietly, just loud enough for Arthur and the other knights to hear, his dark eyes flashing. He would never overtly challenge his commander in public, and so kept his voice low.

King Arthur studied his second in command for a moment, "We have faced, fought and won against such odds before, Lancelot." he replied calmly.

"Lancelot is right Arthur. We could have fought them closer to Camelot." Galahad added softly. "From within the castle we would have had the upper hand."

Arthur sighed, "Would you really have wished to engage them at Camelot? Where your families are? They cannot flee to safety in the same way they did at Badon Hill." he replied, looking around at his knights. Still Gawain said nothing. "To wait Gower out would not necessarily mean we would win."

"But it would mean we could think longer about this - how best to protect our people." Galahad pressed. Gawain finally came to the realisation that his friend's concern for Kalyna and their unborn child was what made him continue with this point, "We do not even know, Gower may have decided he would not attack for several weeks! He might have decided to return to his fief-"

"No Galahad, he would not have." Gawain finally spoke up, looking his brother in arms directly in the eyes, "You and I both know that. No man who wishes to return home goes out of his way to march back towards the city he had sworn to raze to the ground."

Galahad scowled, but remained silent. Gawain did not fault him for not wanting to fight this war, finding something to live for, something to come home to, changed things. "Enough of this." Tristan cut in, "What is done is done. Take what you are given."

Lancelot sighed, relaxing back into his saddle, "Perhaps I should retire after this." he smiled sourly, "Killing does not quite feel the same as it did once before."

Bors guffawed, "Wha'? Yeh'd wanna retire? Lancey-boy's got'n old!" he laughed, "Ne'er though' I'd see th' day!"

Lancelot's eyes narrowed in annoyance, but he soon smiled, a sickly sweet smile that spoke volumes of mischievous plans, "Oh yes Bors. No more fighting, that leaves me a whole lot more time to spend wooing that lovely red-head of yours whilst you are off at war."

"Eh!" Bors growled, pointing one stubby finger threateningly in the younger man's direction. Just before he was about to let out another tirade, Tristan interjected.

"Quiet!" The hawk-man snapped, his dark eyes looking sharply ahead, his head cocked as if listening to something. Suddenly, he turned his horse and rode off into the forest alongside them. Arthur halted and signaled for the rest of the army to stop. Several bated moments later, Tristan returned, replacing two, slightly bloodied arrows in his quiver as he stopped at the head of the column. "They are over that rise."

Gawain took a deep breath. All lightness had dissipated, and he knew from experience that the other knights were similarly preparing themselves for the task ahead.

"My soldiers! We go into battle today not knowing the outcome." Arthur said, his voice rising washing over the army before him, "We can only know that we few have stood here, on the brink. Ready to defend our homes and loved ones. So, let us fight! Fight for your families, your wives, your children! Fight for me! For us! For Camelot!"

With that, he wheeled his stallion Hengroen and led the first charge down into Gower's army. To an unknowing eye, such an onslaught might seem unthinking and rash, yet a more calculating one would notice the way archers stood behind, sending volleys into Gower's unsuspecting army. As Gawain rode with the others into the fray, he let all thoughts fade from his mind until there was only feeling and instinct.

Arthur and his knights, one battalion of infantry behind them ran head-on into the fray. Gower's forces were surprised, and quickly scrambled to attention, but for many they were not fast enough. As soon as Arthur's forces smashed into the King's ranks, the archers and infantry on top of the rise split, running forwards, half to the left and half to the right; flanking Gower's army.

Although Gawain knew what was supposed to be happening, he saw none of it. Gringolet plunged forward, knocking men flying as Gawain swept his sword to either side, dealing killing blows with each strike.

He saw a man reach up and pull Galahad from his horse, and frantically made his way over to his friend. He saw the sword raise, and let his axe fly, watching as it embedded itself in the man's back, just before he could deal the killing blow.

In one swift move, he had dismounted and pulled Galahad up by the arm. "You can see why I like bows better," the younger knight said with weak humor as he cut down a nearby soldier, "No had-to-hand fighting."

Gawain merely grunted in reply, and heaved against the man he was fighting, breaking their sword to sword power struggle and gutting him in one cut. Slowly however, they were being pushed closer and closer together, the number of soldiers from Gower's army was beginning to overwhelm them. The infantry that had originally flanked the rogue Lord's army, had been absorbed into the crush of fighting bodies, and it soon became clear that the people of Caer-Legions were steadily and quickly losing ground.

Slowly but surely, Gawain began to tire. At some point, he had lost Galahad, and he could only just see Tristan fighting somewhere to his right, coldly and calmly like he always did - with complete unfeeling.

They had been fighting for hours, and he could see that they were being overwhelmed. For every one of them, there were five of Gower's men. At some point, he had lost his mace - stuck in the armour of some (now very dead) soldier. Grimly, Gawain resigned himself to his fate and fixed an image of Rynelle firmly in his mind. He had known, long ago, that he would die on the battlefields - just like his brothers had; and he would be damned if the last thing he saw would be the sight of death and blood.

As he blocked and parried, something caught his eye - yellow horse hair protruding from a Roman-style helmet. The soldier turned towards him, and Gawain snarled. Gower. Viciously, he cut down the man he was currently fighting and stalked towards the man he hated most.

Somehow, it was as if Gower could sense him coming, and the man turned to face him, killing one of Arthurs soldiers at his feet (Gawain knew that particular man, he was a baker, and had three children) "Ahhhh, Sir Gawain, I was hoping to come across you." Gower said, his voice arrogant and taunting, as he pointed the sword in his direction, "It seems you and your hawk-friend are responsible for the death of a number of my soldiers."

Gawain assessed him calmly, "I have not come to engage in small-talk Gower," he said, eyes narrowing, "I am here to kill you." And with that, he lunged at him,

They cut at each other with ferocity, before the younger man broke away, smiling and panting, "Such hatred! I have been meaning to ask, yet haven't found the time - why are you so protective of my dear cousin?" when he caught the look of disgust on the older man's face, Gower grinned sadistically, putting two and two together, "Oh so she is your little whore now is she? Oh how ironic." he growled, "Moving up the food chain so to speak."

"No, she is not my whore. She is my wife." Gawain replied viciously, enraged that the other man would even talk of Rynelle in the midst of a battle, "And you will keep your tongue between your teeth snake."

Gower's lips twisted into something that could have once been considered a smile, "Oh my. My, my. How sweet. Did your little wife tell you about me then?" when Gawain didn't fall to his bait, Gower continued, "Well you see, I was the one who took her maidenhood - and quite enjoyable it was too-"

With a loud snarl, Gawain lunged, and Gower only just managed to block in time and stop the blow that would have cut his head clean from his body. They exchanged blows and each managed to inflict small cuts on the other, but not the killing blow each desired. Suddenly, out of nowhere, the sound of a horn rang out across the field; and both looked up to see more men on the hill. Gawain vaguely recognised the standard they flew and promptly kicked his opponent in the gut to force him away. It was Sagramore and Lionel. Reinforcements were here. "You see Gower, you cannot win this," Gawain panted, as he stepped back and away in order to catch his breath, "You will never see her again."

Even though he could definitely see Arthur's new, fresh men, charging down into the fray, Gower still smiled maniacally. The man was surely mad,"Oh but I will, I would love to see her again," Gower said cockily, "Run my hands along her smooth, creamy-"

"You will not touch her!" Gawain spat, his blood boiling in his veins, and his hands tightening about his sword.

Gower sneered, "Oh but I will. And when I am done, I will kill her, as I should have years ago." the man sighed, apparently bored with the conversation, "In fact, she should have died along with the rest of her family, like I had planned. No-matter, all will be righted soon."

"She told me her parents died in a fire." Gawain snarled, noticing the slight movement of muscle and spinning out of range of the blow that came for him. "You. You set the fire!"

Gower smiled maniacally, circling once more,"Of course I did. I inherited not only my parents fortune, but hers as well." he licked his lips, "It was quite agreeable for a long time. A worthy enterprise. Richness and luxury during the day, and a delicious plaything for nighttime pleasures-"

With a roar, Gawain lunged at the other man, his sword clashing against the other man's and bearing down on him with all his strength. Like the snake he was, Gower slipped from beneath him and to the side, leaving a stinging gash on Gawain's arm in his wake - somehow managing to find a gap in his armour.

Hissing in pain and annoyance, Gawain turned to meet his opponent, and exchanged blows once more. He could feel himself tiring with every smash of his sword against the younger man's. Just when Gawain thought he had gained the upper hand, Gower locked his sword arm with his, and punched him squarely in the jaw, knocking him to the ground and sending his sword flying. Desperately, Gawain reached for his dagger and turned once more, but it was too late.

With one, slicing blow, Gower flicked his sword up and under his arm, slipping through the unprotected under-parts of his biceps, making Gawain drop the dagger. One downward stroke more, and he had cut through the flesh of Gawain's thigh, causing him to fall to the ground, with a yell of agony.

"The net has fallen and you are trapped knight." Gower laughed, relishing the feel of superiority over his opponent. "It seems the Sarmatian barbarian is not as fearsome as so many thought. I will enjoy killing you. Almost as much as I will enjoy killing my dear sweet little cousin as she screams for mercy."

Gawain had learned long ago, that taunting and baiting your opponent - seemingly dying on the ground, was never a good idea. He had seen friends and enemies both, fall this way. So, from his crouched position on the ground, one hand stemming his bleeding thigh, he looked about for any type of weapon.

Dimly, through Gawain's pain-shrouded mind, he remembered the small dagger Rynelle had given him, tucked securely in the front of his belt. It was small, but it could well mean his last chance. He heard and felt Gower step up behind, and even with his injuries, the Sarmatian knight whirled and struck. One arm holding down Gower's sword arm, the other moving up, pushing the small knife through the small gaps in his armour and straight into his heart.

Gower's mouth opened in shock, and Gawain pulled him closer, so close their faces were almost touching. "I told you, you will not touch her." he growled, pushing the knife deeper, and watching with malicious delight as blood gurgled from the man's mouth, "Not ever again."

With that, he let Gower fall, slumping to the ground, eyes glazed in death. Gawain winced as he got to his feet. None of his injuries were life threatening - only shallow cuts - but that did not mean they were not painful. He would definitely need stitches on his arm and thigh. Wonderful.

Gawain stood over the body of the fallen man, Rynelle's dagger still firmly in his bloody hand. He could feel the sticky, red lifeblood of Gower coat his fingers; and in complete disgust, wiped his blade clean on the other man's leather pants. Limping badly, Gawain hobbled over to where he saw his fellow knights gathering - the survivors of Gower's army offering their arms in surrender. He was more than ready to go home.

• • •

Rynelle watched the returning army from the heights of the inner-keep wall, as the stench of death and blood billowed back over the hill. "They will come back." Kalyna whispered, taking her hand. "They must come back."

Rynelle smiled, there was no doubt in her mind that the older woman said those things more-so to assure herself; but she appreciated it all the same. "I know." she said softly, looking over at her friend, "Galahad has twice as much of a reason to fight now than he ever did before."

The two women turned as they heard the opening of the gate and raced as fast as they were able down into the throng of women, children and families who waited for news of their men. Anxiously, Rynelle searched the faces of those that returned. Some she recognised, and some she did not. Finally, she found the one that she searched for "Gawain!" she shouted, running down the stairs to her Sarmatian knight. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Kalyna doing the same with Galahad, and Vanora with Bors, but she paid them no heed. All her attention was on the man with the tawny coloured hair who strode towards her.

When Rynelle reached him, his arms opened, and suddenly, she was locked in his embrace. The metallic smell of blood and sweat invading her nostrils. Gawain's lips claimed hers and she put all of her love worry and joy that he was alright into that one kiss "Rynelle, Rynelle." he whispered her name over and over again like it was a prayer, resting his forehead against hers. Worriedly, Rynelle ran her hands over every inch of skin she could see, checking that he was not harmed.

"I am here, I am alright my love." she whispered, anxiously watching as closed eyes opened to reveal the startling blue that pierced her soul. "I am fine. What happened?"

Gawain gave her another soft kiss before leading her away, hurriedly pulling her by the hand back to their chambers. In all the confusion of the returned war party, someone had already taken Gringolet back to the stables. Rynelle had silently asked Kalyna as she had passed ,if all had returned. A small nod had allayed her fears and so, she turned all her attention to her husband.

Gawain sat on the edge of their bed, not even bothering to remove his weapons or clothes as he did so. Suddenly anxious about what troubled him, Rynelle knelt before him, taking her hands in his and looking up at him pleadingly, "Gawain, please, you must tell me." she whispered, turning his palm up and kissing the callused skin. Gawain studied her silently for a moment before cupping her cheek in his hand, and brushing away a stray hair from her forehead with the other. And then he told her.

"The thought of him doing that to you drove me mad. The very depths of what he told me haunt my mind. Not for myself, but for you." Gawain said softly, looking down at his little mouse. She stared back at him with an undisguised look of horror; eyes shining with unshed tears and shock. "For the knowledge of what this information would do to you. All I can ask is that you do not hate me for telling it to you."

Bright green eyes looked up to blue; softening as they saw the love and concern that burned there. She stared back at him so trustingly... "You think I would hate you for killing the cousin that I have loathed for so long? For telling me the things I needed to know? Gawain, can you honestly say I look upon you with an expression of hate?" Rynelle said softly, her voice kind. She had learned of her family's murder. Gower's death. Now it was time to release the past and move forwards. "No. I do not. So I say quit this worry and kiss me my Sarmatian knight. What is done is done. It is time to look to the future."