A/N: Here we go! There's a bit more to cover beyond the upcoming battle, but I wouldn't expect there to be more than about 3 chapters, and almost definitely no more than 5. Nevertheless, this story will soon be coming to a close!
A side note: there are two references in this chapter, one to the Lord of the Rings movies (Two Towers, to be specific), and one to Game of Thrones. See if you can find them! Hint: the LOTR one is waaay harder to find.
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.
.*.*.*.*.*.
When Arthur returned, he sent Galahad and Dagonet to round up the rest of the knights for a round table meeting. Slowly, his knights—as well as a few of the Sarmatians that he had personally invited to the meeting—began to trickle in, filing to their seats. He watched Bedivere and Cymbeline the most closely; Bedivere was pale, with dark circles under his eyes, and seemed slightly unsteady on his feet. Cymbeline looked more rested, but no more at rest than Bedivere did, or than Arthur felt. Once everyone was seated, he took his own seat.
"This morning, myself, Bors, Dagonet, Galahad, and Kei rode out in search of the site where Jorah and his sons were ambushed last night," Arthur explained. "We found the bodies of his men, along with several Woads, all of which had a white handprint somewhere among the rest of their paint."
"That is the sign of the Lac," Bedivere said.
"They're a clan in the north that, according to legend, has old magic in their blood," Cymbeline's voice dripped with disbelief. "They were said to be sorcerers and witches."
"So why would their symbol be on the armor of Woads attacking the chief of Clan Cunobelin?" Arthur asked.
Bedivere shrugged aimlessly, his eyes unfocused. Cymbeline looked more pensive. "I'm not sure," she said finally. "If I remember my geography well enough, they're not far enough north that Jorah would have infringed upon their lands while he was fighting to get Cunobelin back. Unless they were allied with Caradoc and he called for their aid when he heard about Jorah coming."
"But why follow them this far south just to attack him?" Galahad asked. "Why not do so up in the north?"
"Unless the reason Jorah was coming back south was because he had lost the fight with Caradoc and was trying to get away from the Lacs," Kei suggested.
"Did Lucan say what happened in the north?" Bors looked first at Bedivere, who shook his head numbly, then at Cymbeline.
"Lucan's hardly spoken a word since last night," Cymbeline sighed. "I tried to ask him about it this morning, and he wouldn't tell me anything."
"Do we know where the Lacs' allegiance lies?" Arthur asked, looking around the table. "If they were allied with Caradoc, then it would explain why they came after Jorah, but otherwise…"
"If not, then we still don't know what they were doing here," Bors finished grimly.
"Cymbeline, see if you can get anything out of Lucan," Arthur said. "We need to know what's going on, and whether we need to prepare for a larger-scale attack if the Lacs will continue searching after Jorah. It would also be good to know what happened in the north; if Caradoc is still the king of Cunobelin, then it's highly unlikely that we can still count him among our allies, since Guinevere gave Jorah her support."
"But if not, we can't let it get out that Jorah is gravely injured," Gawain said. "If that news got to the north, clan Cunobelin would fall and be absorbed by another clan, probably one with Morgana's support—which would only make her even stronger."
.*.*.*.*.*.
Through the rest of the afternoon, Bedivere tended to his father in the infirmary, Lucan sitting by Jorah's bedside, while Arthur and the other knights organized patrols, watches, and preparations for any further attack from the Lacs. As the sun was beginning to set, Cymbeline found herself on the Wall, along with Branwyr, Dagonet, and, to her surprise, Gareth.
"What are we doing up here?" Gareth shivered slightly as the air chilled.
"Watching," Cymbeline replied.
"Waiting," Branwyr added.
"For what?" Gareth grumbled.
"For anything," Cymbeline smiled slightly. "Keep your eyes on the treeline—if you see any movement, say something. Even if it turns out to be nothing. We need to watch for the Lacs; if they mount another attack on Jorah, we need to be prepared."
Gareth nodded and turned back to face over the wall, eyes glued to the treeline.
"Spread out," Cymbeline instructed the others. "Cover as much of the Wall as we can, but stay within speaking distance of one another. And stay below the battlements; we want to see them without them seeing us. If they know we know they're there, it'll make them move all the faster."
.*.*.*.*.*.
Gawain and Bors rode out of the fort together, Elyan tailing them. Arthur had sent them on a twilight patrol, just to follow the closest edge of the forest. Another patrol had left just before them to check the treelines around the back of the fort.
"Stay out of the forest," Gawain cautioned the boy behind them. "Keep away from the trees. Don't give the Woads a reason to shoot you, if they're actually there."
"What are we looking for?" Elyan asked, sounding slightly afraid.
"Anything that moves," Bors growled. "Woads can be hard to spot; they've grown up hiding in these woods, and they know them like we never will. Any movement you see—any, mind you—is probably them."
"What about animals?" Elyan asked, eyes glued to the trees.
"There aren't too many animals running around at this time of day," Gawain explained. "And very few of those are big. Mostly mice, rats, rabbits. The odd deer."
"Stay close," Bors instructed. "The last thing you want is to get caught in a Woad ambush on your own."
.*.*.*.*.*.
Galahad led Dinadan, Lamorak, and Lancelot out towards the back of the fort to search for Woads.
"Lancelot, keep close!" he scolded the boy, who was lagging behind. Wordlessly, he spurred his horse up beside Galahad's, then matched pace with Galahad's mount. Galahad eyed the boy. He and Griflet had been close friends, often inseparable, and Lancelot, usually chatty and cheerful, had been uncharacteristically quiet all day. "How are you?" Galahad asked softly.
"Fine," Lancelot bit out.
"I'm sorry about Griff," Galahad said. "He was a good lad. He would have made a great knight one day."
"We were going to be knights together," Lancelot said. "Ever since we met, it's all we talked about. When we finally convinced Arthur and Cymbeline to let us start training, we were so excited."
Galahad nodded. He remembered the discussions that had led up to that decision. They had been heated; Arthur said that he didn't want to send any more children into battle, while Bors had argued that the more training they had, the more likely they were to survive life at all, whether or not they became knights. Galahad had never been sure what had tipped the scales in favor of training the boys, but they, and several of the others, had finally been allowed to begin training almost four years ago.
"Now it'll just be me," Lancelot said softly. "Griff will never be a knight, and I'll be one all on my own. I'll never… spar with him again, or play pranks on Dag and Bran and Bedivere, or…"
"I know," Galahad said simply. He remembered the pain of losing other knights—his friends—since he was well younger than Lancelot and Griflet.
"How do I do it?" Lancelot sniffed, trying to keep himself from crying in front of the other knights. "How do I keep trying to become what Griff and I dreamed about becoming together without him?"
"You do it because you and Griff dreamed about it together," Galahad replied. "That's how you honor him."
.*.*.*.*.*.
"Are you scared?"
Gareth jumped at Cymbeline's voice by his side.
"Sorry," she grinned, torchlight from the fort below lighting her face enough to see in the dark. "I didn't mean to startle you."
"It's alright," Gareth smiled slightly.
"Are you scared?" Cymbeline asked again.
"Of you?" Gareth grinned. "No."
"Maybe you should be," Cymbeline's smile faded. "I am a Woad, after all."
"I'm not afraid of you," Gareth repeated. "Gawain and Grav trust you, and I trust them."
"You hardly know them," Cymbeline pointed out. "They've been gone almost all your life."
"But I trust them," Gareth repeated. "And I've always had a good sense of who to trust."
Cymbeline smiled. "That can get you into trouble, you know."
Gareth shrugged, eyes on the forest beyond the Wall.
"That's not what I meant, though," Cymbeline said. "I meant are you scared of them—of what's out there."
"No," Gareth replied.
"Well you should be," Cymbeline said. "The night is dark tonight, and full of terrors. The Woads will attack us tonight."
.*.*.*.*.*.
Arthur met the returning patrol on top of the fort's wall, near the stairs leading up to the great Wall itself. "What news?" he asked.
"The forest is full of Woads," Gawain replied. "We could see them all along the treeline."
"Behind the fort as well," Galahad added.
"What about north of the wall?" Bors asked.
"It's hard to tell from the distance and in the dark, but Branwyr says that she's seen movement," Arthur replied. "Cymbeline insists that they'll attack tonight."
"Arthur!" the call came from the fort below.
Arthur and the knights turned to look down. Below them, clustered together on the street, were Ban, Pellinore, and their sons. "My lords!" Arthur called down to them. "What do you need?"
"We've come to fight for you," Ban brandished a heavy battleax.
"My lords," Arthur shook his head. "I promised you that you would not have to fight any more if you came with me to Britain! I cannot ask this of you."
"You never technically promised that we'd never have to fight any more," Grav piped up from beside Gawain, grinning. "You just said that we'd never be forced to fight for the Romans or worry about conscription."
Arthur glanced at him and arched an eyebrow.
"And you didn't ask it of us," Bors the Elder shouldered Ban and Pellinore aside to stride to the front of the group. "We offered."
"This is our home now," Gorlois stepped forward as well. "We're going to defend it, alongside those who have called it home for their entire lives."
"Alongside those who have called it home for as long as they can remember," Grav said softly, placing a hand on Gawain's shoulder.
Gawain glanced over his shoulder at Grav, then turned back to Arthur. "We made the same choice, once."
Finally, Arthur nodded. He turned back to look down at the Sarmatians on the ground. "We will welcome you at our sides tonight, my friends!"