Warning! Warning! Warning! This chapter has scenes of Mature nature, violence described in detail.

A Burning Sky

The tavern was no more lively than any other night, though all of the knights were present. Even Arthur was there, watching his men with a small smile on his lips. Galahad was sporting a bruise under his eye that I hadn't seen the night before, but when asked he refused to tell how he got it. The smile on Gawain's face told us, however, that the story would be told at some point. Bors had Vanora on his lap, whispering into her ear that had her alternating between smacking his arm and blushing.

There was a loud commotion from the entrance way and though we all looked up briefly, no one moved. It wasn't uncommon for either the locals or the Romans, or some mixture of the two, to get into fights. It was the duty of the Roman guards to stop the fights, not the knights. However tonight felt different and I looked back up at the swishing red cloaks as the Romans seemed to be restraining someone.

"You don't understand, I have to talk to Sir Arthur! Please! Lives are at stake here!" None of the knights moved, seeming as if they hadn't heard the claim, so I stood up and made my way towards the guards. The man there was bleeding from his head, probably from one of the guards trying to restrain him. He was struggling against the Romans, trying to bite them it seemed. He didn't look Roman himself, and his accent leaned more towards the villagers I had heard.

"What's going on here?" One of the guards spotted me and I could tell that he almost told me to leave until he got a better look and recognized me for who I was.

"Local villager, my lady. Nothing we can't handle." I waved off the closest one, with a confidence that I didn't really feel, and bent down to the bleeding man. He looked up at me and whether he knew who I was or just tried to pull someone else into his plight that could help, he launched into his tale quickly.

"My village, we were attacked. I saw it from the hill. Please, we must save them. My Fran, my children. Please!" The guard holding him released him quickly, his face reddening with shame. When asked later, the guards would all explain that they simply thought it was another lunatic villager. They hadn't heard the man say anything about an attack, much less so close to us.

I glance behind me and saw that Arthur and the other knights were approaching, having overheard the man's voice in the tavern. Arthur moved me to the side and asked the man a few questions before saying something to the guards that I couldn't hear. He then turned to us.

"Knights, prepare for an attack. He isn't sure who it was attacking the village down the hill but we're going to find out." We all nodded, moving quickly towards the door and the stairs that would lead us to our rooms to prepare before meeting at the stables. Not having time to change made it difficult, but I knew that wearing a dress or my altered fighting gear didn't make much difference at the moment. I strapped on my sword and the daggers, grabbing the bow and quiver full of arrows that we had commissioned for me. The bow was long but light, which made it easier for me being so much smaller than the knights. We were still waiting on my other sword to be ready but I didn't have time to worry about that now.

I gathered my skirts into one hand while carrying my bow in the other hand, taking the steps two at a time while the quiver smacked between my shoulder blades and the sword lightly patted my leg from where it hung on my waist. I soon found myself at the stables where Arthur, Lancelot, and Gawain were already preparing their horses. Soon after I arrived came Dagonet and then Galahad, followed closely by Tristan and Bors. We prepared our horses and mounted, me running a soothing hand over my mare, before galloping out towards the gate.

We directed ourselves towards the village that we could just barely see from the distance, though the flames stood out in the dark of the night. We rode hard and soon, much sooner than I was expecting, we could make out the screams of the villagers. The shapes were decidedly not Woad, too fully clothed, which meant they were probably bandits or rogue highwaymen. Either way, the battle that we were riding into would possibly be a bad one.

Dagonet had told me to stay on my horse as long as possible, giving me the advantage of high ground, but the moment we reached the village I was knocked from my horse. The bandit that had jumped at me sprang to his feet faster than I could manage in my dress and I struggled to get to my sword which was trapped underneath me. As my attacker raised his ax, I grabbed one of my daggers and flung it into his neck. I stood up and released my sword, lowering it roughly against the stomach of the man as a killing blow. Pulling my dagger out of his neck quickly, I turned just in time to block a swing from another bandit.

During my training with Lancelot and Dagonet, when they would go two on one with me, they always harped on me for not paying attention to my surroundings. However while swinging my blade towards the man infront of me, I used my peripheral vision to see what was around me. A villager was struggling with a log, trying to fend off a man advancing towards her. I focused on my attacker, swinging my blade through his neck and wincing inwardly at the image, and then turned as fast as I could, throwing my dagger at the man attacking the villager. He dropped dead where he was and the woman turned to find her savior.

Before she could thank me or I could tell her to get to safety, another man was approaching me. This one reminded me of Dagonet, tall and wide, but his face was marred with scars so horribly that I could barely tell he was human. I readied my stance for his attack but blanched as he raised his weapons. One hand held a very long sword, much longer than my own, and the other held a club with bloodied spikes on the end. Steeling myself, I prepared for his first blow.

Three paces into our fight, I caught the long sword on my cheek. My head snapped back forward, ignoring the sting on my cheek or the feel of the blood dripping down my neck, and I swung my sword in one direction and when he raised his club to stop it, I quickly changed tact and struck out with my leg and kicking the man in the groin. Though I could tell he was in pain, I felt my stomach drop when the intended reaction didn't happen. He swung his club again and I raised my sword with one hand, which was my greatest mistake. His club met my sword with such force that the sword ripped from my hand. Then he struck me across my face with the butt of his sword, making me fall over. My bow was pressing into my back but I couldn't move. My sword hand was smarting from hit and my other hand was now pinned behind me.

I rolled over, towards my sword, but barely made it before I felt a crushing foot on my back. Face down in the dirt, my breath coming in uneven gasps from the pain, I waited for the killing strike. However I heard a whizzing sound and then the sound of an arrow burying itself into flesh. The man fell sideways, away from me, and I grabbed my sword, rolling over as quickly as I could. Being on the ground meant being killed.

Tristan was fighting with a man, swords locked though I could tell he wasn't having any trouble. I could make out Gawain hacking down attacks with his ax. I let my eyes roam once more before landing on Galahad who was the only one I could see still sporting his bow, laying waste to many of the bandits before they reached anyone. He must have been the one to shoot down my attacker.

The fight continued for only a few more minutes before the rest of the bandits- how had there been so many?- disappeared into the night. The villagers emerged from their homes or the woods, crying and cradling their injured or dead. Still carrying my sword, not daring to put it down yet, I made my way through the people towards Lancelot who was wiping blood from his face. He noticed the cut on my cheek and tilted my head, looking at it to see how long or deep, and then nodded to me.

The other knights slowly started to gather around us but I noticed one, a very important one, missing.

"Where's Dagonet?" My question was answered by Bors who yelled for Arthur. We all turned as one, answering the call though only one of us bore the name, and I found myself running towards him. Bors was leaning over a body that was leaning against a half collapsed building, blood covering their face. It took me seconds to realize who the body was, seconds before any of the other knights realized, and I rushed to my brother's side.

My first thought as I reached his side was that my brother was dead. My stomach knotted as I bent down, dropping my sword carelessly as I reached a shaking hand out to him. His chest however was still rising and I felt the knots in my stomach lessen just a little at that.

"We need to get him to the doctor." Bors nodded, and with the help of Lancelot and Gawain who had just arrived, they gathered my brother up and placed him on one of the horses. Arthur made the normal announcement to the village, that anyone that needed mending should come to the fort quickly. There were noncommittal answers that I for once ignored, staring at my brother with a worried heart. There was so much blood and he was unconscious. But he was alive.

We rode as fast as we could, the villagers coming at their own pace when they needed to, with me riding behind my brother on the horse, to keep him steady. We made it to the edge of the woods, the fort entrance barely in sight, when Tristan called out one word that had my stomach clench.

"WOADS!" I slipped from the horse, pulling Dagonet with me with the help of Bors. We propped him against one of the trees, facing away from the oncoming fight. There were a few arrows shot from the Woads towards us, one barely missing me. I bent down, pulling a few arrows out and putting them infront of me. My bow, along with Tristan, Bors, and Galahad's, took out many of the Woads that were headed towards us. I tossed my bow to the side, pulling my sword out of its scabbard. There was blood starting to crust onto the blade but I spared it less than a thought as I swung it at an oncoming Woad.

The Woad that I was going against was screaming, just a sound, and I kicked him in the stomach to shut him up before driving my blade into his chest. Another Woad came up behind me, grabbing my hair and pulling me backwards so that I fell. From my spot looking up, I could tell it was a girl. What threw me were her eyes, not as cold and dark as the other's. And as she had surprised me, I seemed to have surprised her as well for her strange eyes grew large as she looked at me. Perhaps she was surprised that I was a woman, like her. She spun around, kicking me across the face before rushing off into the battle.

It wasn't like a Woad to leave someone unfinished, but I didn't bother questioning her actions. I stood up, shifting my sword and swinging it at the next Woad. He screamed as I slashed across his back but when he turned to face me, I drove my sword into his ribcage. He contorted before I pulled my sword out of him, swinging at a Woad that was rushing towards me. My swing had enough force that it took the man's arm clean off, making my stomach heave in disgust. His screams of pain were enough to have me deal a killing blow.

Soon the Woads, for the few that were still alive, ran off back into the woods. I glanced around to make sure that none of the knights had fallen or were in grave danger. Tristan made eye contact with me, his head nodding as if to ask if I was okay. I nodded back, feeling the pain in my head from the kick the female Woad had dealt me.

I wiped the sweat, and probably trails of blood, from my face. My hands were shaking as I made my way back to the limp body that had been propped against the tree while we fought. Luckily the Woads must have thought that he was already dead or else they may have shot him while we were distracted.

Grabbing the cloth that Gawain held out to me, I pressed it to his face, stemming the blood flow. The wound was not deep, though I think the trauma to the back of his head was what caused him to fall unconscious. Arthur approached us, wiping blood off of his neck and hands and onto his red cloak.

"We should get him back to the wall." I nodded in agreement before helping Bors and Gawain lift my brother onto one of the horses again. I rode behind him the rest of the way to the fort, refusing to think of what could happen if my brother didn't survive this.

A/N: Never had a "Warning: Scenes of a violent nature" message to write before. However I thought this one needed it, so there it is.
I'm sorry for not updating yet. Hit a brick wall in my physical wellness and I needed to rest up so that my writing wouldn't suffer. So here you go, chapter 25.
Thank you to my readers/alerters/favoriters/private messagers/poll takers/reviewers. Goodness that's a lot of people to thank. I hope you enjoyed this chapter.
I'll try to have the next one up soon!

IMPORTANT NOTICE! I am going to be closing the poll soon. Though I'm still not close to where the movie starts up, I want to end it soon so that I can start working on ideas. However PLEASE continue to message/review/email me your opinions or ideas. I love hearing what you have to say and there is a chance I can work in your ideas. I love hearing from you all, it's an important part of my writing process. Thank you all for your feedback so far.

Sneak Peak at the next chapter:

"How are you Irissa?" I glanced at Lancelot, opening my mouth to answer when a low scream from the room behind us interrupted me. I closed my eyes against the sound, breathing deeply. Lancelot shifted with a humorless laugh.

"Pointless question." I nodded, staring straight ahead into the fire that flickered on the torch against the wall. He moved closer to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and pulling me against him. Fighting back tears, I curled my arms around him and buried my face into his chest, clutching at the back of his shirt while I tried not to cry.