I own nothing related to King Arthur.
There were far more Saxons then she remembered. Their numbers had always been intimidating, but now there were so many warriors moving around out in the dark, open fields that it almost looked as though the land were actually the dark, rolling waves of an ocean. They could hear sounds of raucous laughter and loud conversation amongst the barbarians and she narrowed her eyes at their audacity. They sounded more like a joyous, travelling caravan rather than an invading army – the smug bastards has come as though they hadn't a care in the world; like taking the Wall would be easy.
Galahad and Tristan stared out at the enemy wordlessly while Gawain, Bors, and Guinevere were all lingered nearby, watching her reaction. Breck turned to them with furrowed brows, the warrior in her beginning to take over. "Where is Arthur? Has he seen this?" She asked.
Guinevere was the one to answer. "He was just present. I believe he retreated to his quarters." Breck nodded and returned her attention to the Saxons below them. "If you go to meet with him, I wish to come." The Woad added firmly, leaving no room for argument.
"Do as you will." Breck responded.
"What do they keep yelling?" Gawain asked in exasperation. "They have not stopped since they arrived. Breck – what do they say?"
Everyone fell silent and watched her expectantly, waiting for her to translate what was being yelled. If she strained her ears hard enough, she could just barely make out the Germanic words that were being directed at them on the wind. It took a moment to decipher what they were saying since she could barely hear them, but when she did she immediately saw red – first it was the insulting words about her mother, then the ones about her father, that made her hand clench into a tight fist. The Saxons took turns hurling out taunts and jibes about her parents for a few moments before they proceeded to shout out all of the things they had planned for her once she was caught. Breck took a step back from the ledge with a glare fixed on her face. The nerve of them…
"Can you hear them? What do they say?" Galahad asked.
"Their words are meant for me." She said darkly. "And you do not want be enlightened on the matter – trust my words." With that being said, she glared out at the resting army for one more second and then turned to Tristan. "We need to speak with Arthur." She said, earning herself a nod of agreement from him.
"Breck, you must see reason!" Galahad said immediately, gathering her attention quickly. "Your numbers are too few! This is suicide!" He said, pointing out towards the Saxons with an exasperated look on his face.
"Galahad, this needs to be done." Breck responded firmly. "You have known all along my plans for Cerdic and I will not retreat now when the opportunity to end him is finally upon me. Do not worry – our allies are strong." She added reassuringly. "You lot should make ready to take your leave. The opportunity to flee shall not be available for much longer."
Galahad and Gawain began to protest again but Bors stood up quickly, waving his hands at them in a dismissive manner. "Shut up. Shut up." He grumbled at the two Sarmatians, silencing the men with one firm stare. When he rounded on Breck, Tristan, and Guinevere he took a deep breath and then let it out as a heave. Then he inclined his head in their direction. "Go. Find Arthur and do what you must." He said encouragingly, motioning for them to get going.
Breck took a moment to step forward and place a hand on his shoulder before giving it a hard slap in relation for all the times he'd done the very thing to her. He winched a bit and it made her smirk. "See you after." She said earnestly. "All of you." Breck added, looking pointedly at Galahad and Gawain.
"Give 'em hell." Bors said fiercely.
"Come – we haven't much time." Tristan urged behind her.
Breck took a last long look at the three Sarmatians before her and then let Tristan lead her away, his eyes lingering on the Saxons to send one last cold look in their direction before he was trailing after her. A glance over her shoulder confirmed that Guinevere was following them as well and Breck faced forward again to begin weaving her way through the crowd of villagers. She hoped the knights would be able to get away fast enough. Furthermore, she hoped all of the people residing at Hadrian's Wall were able to make their escape. Currently, though, the townsfolk were all standing around looking completely at a loss of what to do, beginning to barrage her with questions as she tried to make her way to Arthur's quarters.
"Where do we go?"
"What do we do?"
"We shall all perish!"
"Breck! Breck!"
The call of her name over the increasingly loud crowd made her pause and she turned to search for the source, trying to determine who it was that was attempting to get her attention. She finally spotted Jols roughly pushing his way towards her and motioned for Tristan and Guinevere to wait, watching her employer as he made his way through the town's inhabitants that loitered about. By his side was Ganis and trailing behind them was a dozen or so men, all with similar resolute expressions on their faces. It would have been hard to misunderstand the group's intention and she knew, without having to be told, that these men had already decided that they were going to fight.
They finally came to a halt in front of Breck, Tristan, and Guinevere and Jols took a moment to eye each of them before focusing wholly on Breck. "Arthur has a plan." He said plainly, crossing his arms as he squared his shoulders. "And if I know you as well as I believe, you are involved. We wish to join." Jols finished plainly, gesturing to the men standing around him as they all nodded their agreement.
Breck shared a sideways glance with Tristan. "Aye, a plan has been formed." She confirmed before raising a skeptical brow and eyeing the men before her. Most appeared to be farmers or stable-workers, and though it wasn't certain if any had ever even wielded a sword before, the men seemed prepared to do what was necessary and the fact still remained that they needed all the help they could get. "You see what awaits us – you are confident you wish to be involved?" Breck questioned.
"This is our home." A man said firmly, stepping forward to gain her attention. Breck thought she remembered seeing him in the tavern once or twice. "I'll not hand it over to those barbarians without a fight."
A murmur of agreement broke out amongst the men again, all of them nodding their heads. "And Arthur helped us when it was not required of him." Ganis added, speaking for the handful of men that had been living at the Roman estate. "I was excluded from one battle but shall not sit idly by again. We wish to fight."
Breck and Tristan shared a look before she nodded and motioned for the men to follow them. "Right." She conceded with a nod. "Come on then. We go to meet with Arthur."
The rest of the crowds finally parted for the large group as they made their way through the square and headed for the main hall that housed Arthur's quarters, the council room, and the Round Table. Tristan wordlessly led everyone inside the building and then through the winding hallways, Breck and Guinevere falling into step behind him while their new comrades bringing up the rear. The once silent hallways were now filled with the echoing voices of the men as they began to talk eagerly about the impending war and Guinevere glanced back at them for a second before turning her attention back to Breck, an almost amused smirk playing on her lips.
"They are no warriors…" Guinevere mused quietly to Breck. "But their eagerness is admirable."
"They fight for a purpose. Sometimes it is the motivation, not the weapon, that makes the warrior so fearsome." Breck responded wisely. Guinevere shot her an impressed look. "Do you mean to fight then?" She asked the Woad as an afterthought.
"Yes." She responded immediately. "I am of these lands – I will not abandon my home or my people." Guinevere said firmly.
"Good." Breck said with an approving nod. "This fight will not be won easily." She admitted with a frown. "I only wish Arthur could have met with Merlin before the Saxons arrived – we need to find a way to coordinate his plan with your people."
Guinevere immediately frowned in confusion. "Arthur did meet with Merlin." She said. Breck's eyebrows shot up and she looked to the Woad in surprise. "He met with my father the night you scouted with your man." She said, nodding in the direction of Tristan before raising a quizzical brow in Breck's direction. "He did not tell you?"
"No." She said with a shake of her head. "Much happened when we returned, though, so time did not allow much conversation. Was the council successful?"
"Successful enough – they both live to see another day." Guinevere informed her. "Though there was no talk of battle plans. We shall have to remedy that and with haste." This was at least some bit of good news – if Arthur and Merlin had managed to meet without killing one another, that was definitely a step in the right direction. And having Guinevere on their side would only help in trying to map out a plan of attack with the Woads.
As they had suspected, Arthur was located in his council room and they found him standing at the Round Table with parchment and maps scattered all over the surface before him. He looked concentrated and determined as he poured over the paperwork but was clearly caught by surprise when the large group came waltzing into the room unannounced. He reached for his sword immediately, drawing it out as he turned to face the newcomers, but then relaxed when it registered in his head that he was not being attacked. "It is not wise to sneak about when Saxons linger just outside of our borders." He said sourly, dropping his sword back onto the table.
"Relax – the only Saxon present is no enemy." Breck said, waving off his defensive attitude. Guinevere's wide eyes stared at her in complete surprise with the revealing of her lineage, but Breck ignored the look and continued on to the table. "And we hardly sneak – had your ears been more aware, you would have heard our approach."
Arthur quirked a brow at her and then regarded the group before him. "What is the meaning of this?" He asked curiously.
"We come to offer our swords." Jols said, speaking for the group. "What be our orders?"
Arthur was silent as he glanced around at the men before him. "This matter is very serious – this enemy is the fiercest we have faced yet." He explained in warning. When it was clear that none of the volunteers were about to back down, he nodded and let out a sigh. "Very well." He conceded before gesturing towards the table. "Sit."
The men stood frozen for a beat, awestruck over the fact that Arthur wished for them to sit in the same places that the great Sarmatian knights normally occupied, and then quickly moved to fill the empty seats with excited looks on their faces. Breck made to sit by Tristan but moved to join Arthur instead when he called for her, motioning her over with a crook of his finger. He rifled around his pile of maps for a moment before pulling out a sizeable sheet of parchment that had the layout of the fort on it. Arthur then moved to one of the walls that was nearest to the table and hung it up so that everyone was within view of it. "You are as much apart of this as I – if not more." Arthur murmured to her quietly when she appeared at his side. "Stand by my side as I address the men." He urged, placing a hand on her shoulder.
Breck immediately felt honored by his words and nodded her consent, taking a stance on one side of the map as Arthur took his place on the other. At once, all of the conversation in the room stopped and every pair of eyes turned to them in eager anticipation.
"I will speak plainly." Arthur said with authoritative tone to his voice. "We are outnumbered in this battle. We have help from friends," he continued, eyeing the men, "and have formed an alliance with the Woads," Arthur looked pointedly to Guinevere, "but this enemy is vast and cruel and will show no mercy. The task before us is no simple one."
With that being said, he turned to the map. "Outside the protection of the Wall, we stand no chance. Our objective is to lure them into our territory and deplete their numbers to the best of our ability with any and every tool at our disposal. Jols, Ganis –" Arthur addressed the two men before pointing to the spaced out dots on the map, "– in the morn, take your men, douse every hay barrel you see with oil, and set fire to them. The smoke will conceal us from the enemy and create the diversion we need to attack. Then pour a line of oil here." He continued, motioning to the long line that spanned between the battlefield and the gate. "Once aflame, this should close off any escape routes. Then take your men and man the gate – the Wall is your station."
Jols and Ganis both nodded their consent. "Tristan and I shall station ourselves on the hill to draw them in." Arthur said once he was satisfied that Jols and Ganis were clear on their orders. "The Saxons believe they are being met with no resistance – our presence should prod the enemy into action."
"What of the other knights?" Jols asked curiously.
"They are not involved." Breck answered him at once. Many looked surprised at this news but none argued the fact.
"What of my people?" Guinevere piped up, drawing everyone's attention. "Where are we needed?"
"Take your comrades and position yourselves here." Arthur instructed, pointing to the tree line that sat west of the battlefield. "We will be in dire need of your archers."
"And in dire need of our catapults as well?" Guinevere asked with a smirk.
Breck and Arthur shared a look. "Catapults?" Breck asked with raised eyebrows before looking to the map. The only reasonable place for such large contraptions was the hill where Arthur and Tristan would be stationed. "The hill is our most promising option." Breck reasoned, glancing to Arthur for his opinion on the matter. "And it would be useful to have a line of Woads stationed behind your position. You will need reinforcements."
"Agreed." Arthur said before nodding and turning back to Guinevere. "The catapults may be stationed on the hill once Tristan and I have taken our leave, along with a line of foot soldiers. But do not send them into battle until the proper moment – we need to be as sparing with our numbers as possible."
"Understood." Guinevere agreed. "Might I suggest one more adjustment to this plan?" Arthur pursed his lips but nodded anyway. Guinevere stood from her seat and walked to the map under Arthur's watchful gaze. "Instead of using fire to prevent their escape," she said before sliding her index finger right through the marks that symbolized the Saxons, "let us use it to divide their forces."
Arthur looked as impressed as Breck felt at the idea. "Divide their forces." He repeated as he pondered the idea, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "It would make their numbers less daunting…"
"And some will perish in the fire." Breck added, looking to Guinevere with a small smile.
"Precisely." Guinevere said with a nod. "The catapults will devastate the numbers that face the pair of you and the rest of the Saxons will have us to answer to." She said determinedly.
"The Saxons will not expect this." Breck said, knowing all too well that the army's smug and brash way of fighting would wind up only hurting themselves if this plan went accordingly. "They will find themselves surprised and unprepared – the bastards will march straight into our traps completely unawares."
"Make the changes." Arthur said in agreement before turning to face the rest of their comrades. "Once the Saxons are divided, you are free to choose your battles." He instructed. There was a long silence as the men all nodded, some shaking each other's hands, and then Arthur spoke up again. "Words cannot properly express my gratitude for the sacrifice each of you makes." He said earnestly. "Go and prepare, for tomorrow we meet our enemy head on. May God and Lady Luck be with you."
There was a round of clapping and then the sound of chairs scraping over the stone floor as Jols, Ganis, and the rest of the villagers all stood to depart. Breck turned her gaze back onto the map as some men came to shake Arthur's hand and pursed her lips. The plan seemed foolproof and solid, and she had never been more happy about siding with the Woads as she did in that exact moment, but there was only one problem – Breck had no idea where she was supposed to be stationed. She had known the general schematics when it came down to their battle before that night and Breck had always assumed she would be fighting alongside Arthur and Tristan. The fact that Arthur had not mentioned her presence with them left her feeling a bit confused.
"Arthur –" Breck said to catch his attention once the last of their new comrades was closing the door behind him, "– exactly how do I contribute into this plan?" She asked him, raising an inquisitive brow.
"Yes, I thought you may ask such a question." Arthur said before motioning for her to follow him back to the table. He shuffled some of the papers around and produced a smaller version of the map that hung on the wall. "The Woads need to be informed of our plan, but I do not have the means to do so myself. Travel to the Woad camp and present Merlin with this." He commanded as he handed the parchment over to her. "Be my voice this night and prepare them for battle."
Breck was almost surprised that he had given her such an important job to do and nodded her head in agreement, taking the map from him without a word. That was when the Sarmatian scout finally chose to speak up. "You cannot go to the Woad camp." Tristan interjected sharply before Arthur could continue speaking. "Saxons have overrun that side of the Wall."
"I have no need to go north." Breck said to him reassuringly. "My last instruction for Merlin was to begin sending Woads south of the Wall. They will be present already." Tristan breathed a little easier at this information.
"Good." Arthur said before placing a hand on her shoulder. "In regards to the upcoming battle, I have one more request of you." He said, casting a quick glance in Tristan's direction. "Since Tristan and I shall have act as the decoy, I will not be completely available to lead the Woads." Arthur explained. "I need you to join their ranks and guide them."
Tristan looked highly displeased to hear this request and Breck frowned at once. Arthur wanted her to fight with the Woads? She would not be fighting with him and Tristan? An uneasy feeling settled in her stomach and she glanced at Tristan before turning a hesitant look back on Arthur. "Why not Guinevere?"
"Because the Woads necessitate your knowledge and your experience – and because my trust in you is insurmountable." He reasoned with her. "When it is a question of who I believe to be most capable of leading in my stead, I believe that person to be you."
Breck heaved and turned her eyes to Tristan again. The idea of not fighting by his side did not sit well with her at all, but if Arthur truly believed this was the most beneficial course of action, who was she to argue against him? After all, his reputation for being the fiercest warrior in all of Briton had not come by chance – Arthur had earned it. She had to trust that he knew exactly what he was doing. "Agreed." She finally said, though a bit begrudgingly so.
"Arthur – " Tristan started to say.
"My word is final." He said firmly, stopping the Sarmatian's argument with one stern expression. Then he was directing his attention back to Breck. "Take your leave as soon as possible – the Woads will need to prepare." He suggested to her. He looked to the Woad that still studied the map and Breck did not overlook the glint in his eyes as he eyed the woman. "And take Guinevere with you. You may provide her a horse."
Once Breck had nodded her agreement, Arthur pulled her into a tight hug. She wrapped her arms around him in return, accepting his embrace gladly. The next time she was going to see him would be when they joined forces on the battlefield and the thought made her tighten her arms around her neck. She turned her eyes up, quickly asking God to protect the friend that had done so much for her. "You are a great man, Arthur. You always have been." She whispered in his ear. "I am proud to call you my brother."
Arthur was smiling when she pulled back. "And I am equally proud to call you my sister." He responded before kissing her forehead. Then he released her and turned his eyes on Tristan, unaffected by the man's irritable stature. "Return once you have seen Breck off, friend. We have much to discuss." He said before patting the Sarmatian on the shoulder and beginning to gather up all of his papers.
Tristan came to join her without so much as a word in response to Arthur's command and Breck was glad when Guinevere said she would be along shortly to reconvene with her in the stables. At least this way she and Tristan could say their goodbyes in private.
The hour had grown late by now and though the streets were deserted again, the lights that flickered in the windows of the houses they passed by signaled that many were still wide awake. It was easier to hear the noise that emitted from the other side of the Wall in the silence of the town and Breck stared at the gate when they went past, almost unable to believe that the enemy would be pouring through those very doors in just a matter of hours. She averted her attention over to Tristan and moved closer when she noticed how tense he was. He glanced down at her, his demeanor easing in the slightest, and did not push her away when she looped her arm through his.
"The protection around me shall be plentiful." She reminded him.
"The Woads only care for their own." He shot back at her.
"Merlin trusts me." Breck responded. "And my worth will only be further proven upon returning Guinevere alive and well."
They had finished the short trek to where their quarters resided now and Tristan pulled her to a halt outside of her door. "I care not." He said defiantly. "You and I will meet on the battlefield and you will fight by my side."
"Is this a command, master?" Breck asked with raised eyebrows.
"Breck, be serious." He growled in frustration.
"Tristan, you fool, my intention from the beginning was to join you." She said with a shake of her head. "I worry for you as greatly as you do me. I will find you as quickly as possible, I promise." Tristan nodded and then opened her door for her, motioning her to go inside. "Will you come in?" She asked curiously when he didn't follow her through the doorway.
"No." He said with a shake of his head. "You shall go nowhere tonight if I do." He stated bluntly.
Breck nodded and then stepped back out onto the doorstep so she could wrap her arms around him. Tristan accepted her embrace, gave her one long kiss, and then took a hesitant step away from her. She wanted to go to him, wanted to hug him and never release him again, but refrained. Instead, she simply stepped back in her room and offered him a small smile. "I will see you on the battlefield."
Tristan's response was to incline his head to her for one moment before he turned on his heel and strode off in the direction of Arthur's quarters without a backward glance. She watched him go for a long moment and then turned to head inside and grab her weapons and armor, quickly stuffing them into her travelling bag and then heading out to meet with Guinevere in the stables once she was ready to go.
By midnight, Breck and Guinevere had reconvened with the Woads. Within an hour after arriving, the Celt had held a long, private meeting with Merlin to discuss Arthur's course of action and then personally relayed the battle plans to the Woad warriors once Merlin had given her the go ahead – Guinevere would lead the Woads in the west tree line while Breck and Merlin would head the warriors that manned the catapults and were stationed on the hill. For a long while the camp was busy as the native Brits began to make their preparations. But now, as everyone settled in to rest up for the impending fight, Breck sat propped against a tree near the edge of the forest with the breastplate of her armor in her lap and reveled in the silence. Her fingers scooped up more of the muddy earth around her before returning to the metal and continuing the task of drawing her clan's symbol onto her armor.
"No rest for you?"
Breck glanced up at Guinevere and shook her head. The woman had ditched the purple dress that she'd arrived in and had changed into what Breck assumed was her fighting garb. "My thoughts race far too quickly to sleep." She said.
"Mine as well." Guinevere agreed, coming to a halt next to her and crossing her arms as she stared out at the quite, peaceful lands before them. "The calm before the storm…" She mused before glancing down at her. Her eyes inspected the work Breck had done on her armor and she raised her eyebrows appraisingly. "I have seen that symbol around your man's neck."
"Aye, I gifted him with the pendent – tis the emblem of my people." Breck explained before shooting her a firm stare. "I shall ask you not to pry further."
If her words offended Guinevere, the woman did not show it. "You are Saxon." She said, changing the topic of conversation. Her expression was not one of hatred or distrust s she said the words, but there was a challenge lingering in her eyes that dared Breck to finally tell the truth to her.
"I am." Breck confirmed, finally giving the woman her full focus. "My father was Saxon and fought by Cerdic's side for many years. You might understand my trepidation in revealing such information." She concluded with a wry smile. "It has only ever earned me enemies."
"What changed?" Guinevere asked curiously, greatly interested in whatever Breck had to say. "What motivates you to stand against them now?"
Breck sighed and turned her eyes out to the calm scenery around her. There was no use keeping any more secrets now. "My father met my mother and then I was born." She said simply. "Cerdic had my mother and her unborn child murdered in retaliation to my father's….betrayal." She said bitingly. "Then he killed my father himself." Breck explained before meeting Guinevere's stunned eyes again. "This is why I fight. To avenge the family that was ripped away from me."
Guinevere was silent for a long moment and then faced Breck completely, inclining her head to the redhead woman sitting before her. "Your heart is true, Breck – I am honored to be taking the battlefield with you." She said fiercely. "I hope with all sincerity that vengeance will be yours on the morrow."
Breck looked to the woman with a newfound respect and nodded her head once gratefully. Guinevere retreated to go back to the other Woads after that without another word and Breck took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment as she tried to enjoy the last moments of serene calmness that the quiet landscape provided. In only a few short hours, once the sun brought on the new day, she and the Woads would be leaving to take their positions. The uneasy feeling that had been plaguing her for so long was gnawing at her again and she shook her head against it, trying to force the feeling out of her.
They would not fail. They could not fail. She now only prayed that God wished for them to prevail as well and turned her eyes upwards once she opened them again, silently asking him to be with them and protect the ones that she loved.
Adrenaline coursed through her veins as the sun finally rose. The Woads were awake and alert and vibrantly blue with the refreshing of their war paint. Breck had not caught one wink of sleep the night before but did not feel tired in the slightest. Her body was far too jittery in anticipation to settle down and she felt as though she might burst out of her skin at any moment, her fingers barely managing to secure the ties of her armor as she dressed because they were trembling so badly. The wound to her shoulder was long forgotten and there were no hunger pains in her stomach despite the fact that she had not eaten since the previous evening. Her mind was focused on one thing and one thing only.
Today was the day that Cerdic and Cynric would meet their ends.
She could vaguely hear the sounds of Merlin addressing the Woads but paid them no mind since he spoke in the native language she didn't understand. Instead, she used the reflection of the armor on her arm as a mirror and brought her muddy fingers up to her own face, first drawing out the same war paint her father used to wear – one long streak of mud from her hairline to the end of her nose, then a short one dashed through the middle to make a cross; then a long curving line that followed the shape of her left eye before straightening out at the opposite corner until she reached her temple. Breck gathered up more mud and drew one long straight line from the top of her right eyebrow all the way down her face, past her neck, until it disappeared into her armor – a mark reminiscent of the scar her father had harbored. A Gaelic 'D' was drawn on her right cheek – for Dagonet. Then to finish, she used the space on the left side of her neck to draw out a large, Gaelic 'T' – for Tristan.
Breck felt a focus like she had never known before take over her body as she stood to her full height again. The blood in her veins pumped hard and fast and her heart was pounding in her chest. Her hair was only half tied back and hung wildly around her, just like her father's always had. There was no mistaking that the redheaded, female warrior was the daughter of Kenrick the Saxon and she was glad to know it – she wanted the enemy to recognize her.
When she finally turned her blue eyes up, the sight of smoke filling the air in the distance made her close her eyes and take a deep, calming breath. This day is in your hands now, God. Have mercy on the ones who fight against evil and bring your wrath down upon those who mean to destroy that which is good. Give us the strength to prevail.
With the end of her silent prayer, Breck turned to head over to the Woads. The feral glint in her eyes must have been intimidating because a number of soldiers scattered out of the way as she approached, eyeing her with a bit of wariness as she determinedly made her way to their leader. Merlin stopped speaking as soon as Breck was standing before him and the Celt-Saxon could feel the gazes of the Woads on her back as they watched her expectantly. She nodded to Merlin once, a fierce determination spreading through her limbs, and then finally spoke.
"It is time."
A/N: Holy moly, even I'm tense and I wrote the dang chapter! My heart is pounding!
So…maybe…just maybe…if I get enough love and affection after posting this chapter…I might post the next one tonight when I get home from work. It's all in your hands now.
Just be prepared – we're about to be in for a very bumpy ride!