The moment of truth has come, the beginning of the end, the lightning that precedes the thunder... well you understand.I know I never get tired of repeating this, but there's so little left! If all goes well and I don't have to divide chapters, we are no more than three chapters from the end,and the epilogue. Just thinking about it gives me goosebumps.

As always, do not forget to leave your votes and reviews. They really make my the chapter and thank you so much for your constant support!

-Are you going up there to meet them?-Guinevere's voice snapped Devnet out of her dazed state, making her blink repeatedly and avert her eyes from the figures of the knights on the hilltops to her cousin. Gwen smirked widely at her-You can go if you want to, I can manage the warrior on my own for a while-.

When Enyak had dragged both of them to the edge of the forest and Devnet had seen the knights had returned, the feeling that had struck her had been something she would never be able to define in a sole word. The idea was so tempting it pained her heart, but Devnet knew that there were more important things to focus on, and she wouldn't be able to lead and attack without a cold head.

-No-the little half-woad replied with conviction. She eyes the scene at the hilltop one more time before turning to Gwen, a half smile on her face-My place is here, with our people. Besides, it's better to half something to look forward to after the battle-.

Guinevere had to admit that Devnet's words surprised her. She had expected her cousin to rush uphill the minute they'd seen the knights at the top of the hill with Arthur. All these years Devnet had spoken of them as if they were her only real family. A guilty pang of joy scurried through Gwen's veins when Devnet had refused. She was starting to like having her cousin around. Enyak seemed unamused, though he did smirk for just a fleeting second, so fast that Guinevere almost thought she'd imagined it.

-Speaking of places, shouldn't you be at the other side of the field with your men by now?-the tall woad girl crooked an eyebrow at her brother.

Enyak snorted and then bowed mockingly at the two women in front of him-Won't bother you with my presence in that case-he replied sarcastically, starting to walk backwards, towards the open field-Cousin, sister...I'll see you after our nice little fight with the Saxon-.

The man winked sardonically, making them laugh, before disappearing between the smoke. The two girls watched him part with the mild fear for his safety. Neither doubted Merlin's eldest grandson's ability in battle, but their ties of family stirred uneasiness in their hearts nonetheless, even in Devnet, who was not as close to Enyak as his own sister.

From the other side of the wall, they could hear the Saxon warning drums again, but this time, beneath the beat, the women and their warriors could also just distinguish the echo of an army of footsteps aproaching.

Guinevere fingered the feather of an arrow she held loosely in one hand, looking at her cousin out of the corner of her dark eyes-Prepared for battle?-.

Devnet closed her eyes and inhaled deeply the smoky air before opening them again-Ready as I'll ever be, cous-.

From the top of the hill, Arthur and his knights saw a small part of the Saxon army part from the death and advance towards the Wall gate, hitting their round shields with their spares to the chorus of their war cries.

Arthur sank his spare in the earth and rode his mare a few steps forward to stand before his men. There was a fierce green fire in eyes, and his jaw was set cold and proudly. When his spoke, his tone was stern, clear and fearless. It was the voice of a natural leader, and as a leader, he knew exactly what to say to motivate his men.

-Knights! The gift of freedom is yours by right!- he proclaimed fiercely, pacing back and forth in front of the others-But the home that we seek resides not in some distant land-he clenched his fist in front of his face to put more strength in his words-IT'S IN US AND IN OUR ACTIONS ON THIS DAY!-.

His men nodded, encouraged by his speech. -And if this be our destiny-the commander continued, his voice ever challenging the odds-So be it. But let history remember that as free men ... We chose to make it so!-he turned his horse to face the battlefield once more and Excalibur, lifting it above his head. The men's cry cut through the air like blow, a unanimous voice with the strength of a thunderstorm, unyielding, unafraid, and unbent:

-¡RUUUUUUUS!-.

Tristan drew his bow, an arrow at its string, even though no one had told him to do so. He traced a line in the horizon before the astonished looks of his brothers-at-arms, who could not figure out his intention, since shooting at the advancing Saxon squadron would be fruitless. Suddenly, he realized the arrow with a look of absolute certainty in his target, but much to the knights' surprise, he did not direct it to the Saxons, but to a large, lone tree towering beyond the Wall. In awe, the men watched the arrow get lost between the foliage, and seconds later a figure dropped limply to the ground, and never rose. A spy? Perhaps they would never know, just as they would probably never be able to explain to themselves how Tristan had spotted him from such a distance.

With powerful cries, Arthur and his knights broke off into a gallop downhill, side by side. Behind them, six ornamental war-spares stood erected on the ground, the horses at its heads facing the soon-to-be battlefield, like witnesses of the Gods, like testimony of warriors.

A few minutes after Enyak had left, a messenger arrived from the main camp, carrying new orders from Merlin.

-Merlin has spoken with Arthur. The arrival of his knights has slightly changed the plans. The Saxons are not attacking at once. They're sending a smaller advance first. It isn't worth risking our numbers yet. Your orders are only to shoot from the here. With the help of the smoke, it will help to confuse our enemy, as planned. But Artorius and his men will charge them face to face in a series of short attacks on horseback. Merlin has ordered that we remain here-.

Gwen and Devnet exchanged glances and shrugged at the same time. They trusted that their grandfather would know what was best.

In the distance, they heard the deep, groaning sound of the wall gates been opened. Devnet tensed. The whole world seemed to slow around her and fade. The cold, familiar thrilling rage of fear and excitement that took a hold of her in battle made her straighten up in alert. Her body became an extension of the bow in her hand as she drew an arrow from her quiver and placed it gently on the string, pulling it a couple of times to test it. She trembled, tense and ready.

Beside her, the other woads did the same. They waited.

The Saxons entered with a chorus of war cries that made Devnet's blood run cold, but she kept her fingers crawled firmly around the bow. After a moment, the war cries died out unexpectedly, as did the rhythm of marching feet. Puzzled, Devnet looked at Guinevere but her cousin simply shrugged and returned her eyes to the smoky fields. A tense silence settled over the valley, like a stone balancing at the very edge of a cliff, about to fall. Devnet closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, clearing her mind of all thought and anxiety.

Suddenly, from the smoke came a guttural voice that snarled words in a language Devnet couldn't understand, but that was unmistakably Saxon. The war cries echoed once again, this time even louder than before, and the battalion started moving. Beneath their shouting, Devnet's sharp ears captured the sound of the gates being shut again, trapping their enemy on their side of the Wall. A cold half-smile tugged at the corner of her lips for a brief second.

The woads under her and Guinevere's command waited for the signal to attack. One of them had climbed a tree to see over the smoke and let them know when the Saxon were within their range without being aware of it. When the signal came, Guinevere nodded towards Devnet and they both raised their bows at the same time in a silent order for the other woads to do the same.

"Ready".

They pulled the string to their ear and angled it slightly upwards.

"Aim".

Took a deep breath.

"Shoot".

The cousins released their arrows at the same time, followed by the rest in a silent, deadly rain that arched in the air and disappeared in the smoke.

They waited. One second...two...three...

From the depths of the smoke, somewhere in front of them, the Saxon war cried suddenly became yelps of surprise and agony as the arrows fell on them without mercy. But the woads didn't have a time to smile for themselves, because Devnet and Guinevere had already drawn another arrow to their string and were waiting for their next turn to attack. Because now, Arthur and his knights would step in.

A beastly, terrorizing roar rose from the left flank, and even thought she couldn't see the source, Devnet smiled, unafraid, recognizing Bors's familiar war cry, followed by a chorus of fast approaching hooves. There were a series of blood-curling clangs of metal, followed by a new set of screams from the Saxon's part. The knights had cut through the enemy lines on horseback like a knife through butter, striking with their swords like lightning before disappearing in the smoke.

When their clatter of hooves died out, while the Saxon were still confused and struggling to reorganize their lines, on the other side of the field Enyak ordered his own troops to shoot at the enemy. This time, the arrows came thought the Saxon's other flank, catching them once more off guard.

The knights swept through them again, this time from the other side, and the Saxons, disorientated, fell to their swords like flies. From between the smoke Devnet caught glimpses of moving shadows, or the occasional glimmer of steal. The Saxons were howling in pain, and everywhere Devnet could here hooves as the knights stroke by turns in a series of fast attacks, coming in and out though the smoke.

Devnet heard the distinguishing sound of crossbows, followed by cries, but none of them belonged to her beloved men, of that she was sure. The Saxon were shooting blindly in hope of striking a ghost, but instead they were taking down their own companions, confused by the smoke. The battle was everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

The woads waited.

And then, as fast as they had begun, the Saxon cries died out, as did the thundering sound of horses. Guinevere raised a hand in a silent order to hold back. Silence fell over the battle field like a graveyard, and for a minute, no one moved.

Devnet breathed deeply several times, cooling of her mind from the recent thrill of energy triggered by battle. When the fire within her had calmed down a bit, she turned to her cousin, Guinevere nodded stiffly, and without a word, Devnet advanced towards the open field, an arrow ready at her bow.

Her task was simply. Find a single survivor amongst the Saxons, strike him with mortal would if necessary, and drag him to the Wall gates. They would send him back to his sire to bear witness of what had happened. It was a simple tactic based on fear. Hopefully, the dying man and the cries of his companions beyond the Wall would daunt the rest of the army.

As she made her way through the smoke, the remains of the skirmish appeared before her eyes like images drawn from her worst nightmares. Bodies scattered on the ground, bathes in blood. Somewhere so mangled that Devnet didn't even dare to look straight at them. Beneath the rusty stench of blood, she could already catch a sniff of the fouler smell of death. Her knights had no restrain with their enemies. They had murdered in cold blood.

A familiar object caught her attention. Protruding from one of the bodies, she recognized Gawain's axe. The Saxon was already dead, the weapon had sank with such force that it had reached his heart. The half-woad decided to retrieve it and hand it back to her friend later. With a foot on the dead man's chest, she grabbed the hilt of the axe with both hands and pulled it out with a disgusting sound that Devnet was certain never to forget for the rest of her life. She hanged the axe from her belt. The blood on the blade left stains on her pants.

Just then, she heard a cough nearby. Devnet followed the sound to a man was laying a few meters away, crashing under the weight of another body. The Saxon was already too weak to lift it, but Devnet struggled with the dead weigh until she finally managed to push the corpse to one side. The survivor's eyes popped open and widened when they saw the girl and recognized her painted face and blue tattoos. Devnet saw how the hope of a rescue died in the man's gaze, but surprisingly, she felt no pity for him. This could be the man that had fired the arrow that killed Dag back in the Lake of Sorrows. For a second, Devnet closed her eyes and remember Dagonet's warm touch cupping her cheek with his enormous hand. Her fist tightened. This rat was not worthy of her compassion.

Grabbing a handful of coarse black hair, Devnet forced the man to his feet. She noticed a large, bleeding gash running from his left shoulder to his right hip. This man was beyond salvation, but there was enough time to return him to his lord before he bled to death. Without a single word, Devnet pushed the man in front of her, the arrow on her bow pressing against the man's back, and forced him to walk. He was weak from blood lost, and a few meters ahead he toppled to the ground, making a whizzing sound. Devnet gritted her teeth and yanked him back up.

"You have no permission to die yet, scum" she thought coldly.

The Saxon was not able to walk on his own anymore, so she had slip one of his arms over her shoulders and half carry him. Gods, he was so heavy that Devnet's back started burning, but the rush of battle pushed her forward and gave her strength, an effect of the adrenaline burning through her veins.

Between pants and groans, they reached the gates, both man and woman gasping desperately for breath. But Devnet would recover, while this Saxon was close to his death. Footsteps rushed from somewhere above her head, and suddenly Jols appeared beside her, having descended from the top of the Wall through the stone stairs. He greeted Devnet with a silent nod, since there was little time to speak. He had to open the gate before the Saxon drew his last breath.

Devnet grabbed the man by the collar of his chain-mail and pulled him close to her face.

-Now listen to me-she snarled in a low voice, venom dripping from every word-You will cross those gates and tell your sire what had happened. Tell him that the blue demons await for him, as do the knights. They come through the smoke like ghosts and leave only death behind them—.

Her last words came out with a lugubrious tone filled with pure, blinded hatred. Devnet wasn't sure whether if the man had understood her at all, but she trusted that the tone in her voice would be enough to mark her biding.

Jols returned to inform her that the gate was open. With his help, they dragged the man towards the door and pushed him without care through the gap before shutting the gates tightly behind him once more. Devnet rested her back against the cold iron and took a moment to gather her breath. Jols awaited silently beside her in case he could be of assistant. He had always been so loyal...

-I must return to the forest now, Jols-she said after a while-And you must return to your post. But at least now, this Saxon invader will see that we will not be conquered so easily-a nearly sadistic smile took over her delicate features, as if death could actually be beautiful. Jols nodded and much to Devnet's surprised, bowed.

-I'll see you in the battlefield, my lady-he replied respectfully.

A smile broke through Devnet's dirtied face and she reached out to take the man's arm, pulling him back to his feet.

-Hopefully, after the battle, I think-she corrected, before standing on her tiptoes and placing a kiss on the man's rough cheek. Jols simply stared back at her, completely abashed. Devnet smiled and shook her head-You've been a loyal servant, master Jols-she added-A kiss is little, but for now, it is all that I can do to thank you for taking care of my knights for the past fifteen years-.

Jols nodded, still slightly stunned. Since there wasn't anything left to say, Devnet nodded back at him and walked away, disappearing into the smoke.

When she returned to the edge of the forest, she was greeted by anxious looks filled with questions. Guinevere stepped forward and pulled her into a tight hug, relieved that nothing had happened to her. The thought that her cousin cared for her so much warmed Devnet's heart. -

How did it go?-Gwen inquired, walking back to their post.

Devnet shrugged when the images of the dead returned to her mind. Yes, she had to admit that she was glad that the Saxon advance had been destroyed, but the memory of all those maimed corpses would haunt her forever.

-It's was a carnage back there. For a moment I feared I would find nobody alive to serve our purpose-.

Guinevere nodded-Your knights are men to be feared-.

-I know. I...-a sharp cry cut her words, sending chills down her spine once more.

This time, the marching that followed the order to attack was even louder, and confident, promising to crush anything that go in their way.

This was it. The real army was coming, led by a leader that had spread fear throughout the whole island with rumors of his cruelty.

A lump formed inside Devnet's throat and she had to swallow painfully to make it go away. She sucked her breath.

-Looks like the Saxon received our message-she commented to her cousin through gritted teeth-But has chosen to ignore it-.

Guinevere drew and arrow from her quiver and placed it on the string of her bow, her dark eyes skimming between the clouds of smoke before her with cold fury.

-And thus they had sealed their fate then-she responded in a flat tone, before a crook grin twitched the corners of her mouth.

A gloom thought crossed Devnet's mind:

"And ours".