Later that day Serin awoke to find that they had stopped, and Galahad was nowhere in sight.

The sun was setting and cast a cold glow about everything.

Serin, restless after her long sleep, slipped on her shoes, and silently climbed out of the wagon.

Eva stirred and yawned, "Serin?" she said sleepily, "where are you going?"

"Hush now," She told her sister quietly, "I'll be back in a moment." Serin walked along the long row of wagons, singing softly to herself a song her mother had taught her before she died,

Trees of green and water blue

Tenderly I sing to you,

Of Arthur and his knights so true,

And the noble deeds they do...

Tristan and Gawain applauded loudly from where they were sitting by a fire,

"Please, sing to us of the noble deeds we do?" Gawain laughed.

Serin felt her cheeks turn red, she hadn't known anyone was listening.

"N-no," she stammered, "I don't know any more of the song," she finished quietly.

"Aw, c'mon," Gawain said, smiling, "I've never heard any songs about us before."

Tristan nodded, "It was a very good song," he paused, "until you stopped."

Serin gave a half-hearted smile, "I don't know any more of it,"

"Well," said Galahad, coming out from behind a wagon, "you could make it up as you go."

"Then it wouldn't be any good," she protested.

Bors strode over to where the other knights were sitting, "We'll listen to you anyway," he offered.

"Well...alright." Serin finally consented, and began to sing, her melodious voice attracting the attention of others in the wagons around them.

Sparing lives, that's what I'm told,

This task befits these knights so bold,

Turning evil to the cold,

They fight as warriors of old.

Any scoundrel, in their way,

Woe befalls him, on this day,

Their task is not a game to play,

But lives to spare, and fiends to slay.

Serin finished, and all who had gathered to listen applauded,

"Not any good, eh?" Bors commented over the clapping.

Serin beamed at Galahad, who raised his mug of ale to her in a toast.

"Come sit with us," Tristan offered, motioning to the empty space on the log next to Galahad.

"Thank you," she said, breathless from singing, and also from the cold.

"Want something to eat?" Gawain asked, offering a wooden trencher full of meat.

"I know I do," Bors said irritably, "I'm starving!"

"You're always starving." Gawain reminded him, chuckling.

Serin gladly took a small portion of the meat, then passed the plate to Bors.

After a while, Serin decided to go check on Eva, and bring her something to eat.

"See you in the morning." she told the knights, mostly directing her goodnight to Galahad, then turning on her heel, she was gone.

"She's beautiful," Gawain commented, after she left.

The other nights nodded in agreement, all except Galahad, who stared after her silently,

It wasn't her beauty that caught his eye; it was the very way she held herself, the way she moved, the way she talked, she always seemed sure of herself, and sure of Galahad's feelings towards her, sure that she could take care of herself and her sister.

"What do you think Galahad?" Bors asked him.

"What?" he snapped from his thoughts.

"I asked if you think she fancies Gawain,"

"No, I don't think so." he stretched, and stood up, "I'm going to bed."

"Eva," said Serin, coming up to their wagon, "you'll never guess what happened,"

No one answered.

"Wake up Ev," she said, pushing her sister's shoulder to rouse her, but Eva did not wake up.

"Eva," she said desperately, "please wake up!"

When Eva still did not stir, Serin ran for help, "Someone! Please help my sister, she's burning with fever!"

Galahad roused in his tent, and immediately got up to see what the matter was, "Serin?" he called, "What's wrong?"

She was almost in tears now, stumbling in the snow, "It's Eva," she gasped, "she won't wake, and her fever is very high."

"We'll go see Arthur, he'll know what to do," Galahad said briskly, "Come, his tent is this way."

They reached Arthur's tent, and woke him.

"Galahad, what's the matter?" Arthur said, suddenly alert.

"It's her sister," he rushed, "she's taken a turn for the worst."

Arthur jumped up and followed them to where Eva was.

He felt her head, "Burning," he muttered, then sent Galahad to get some cloths and wet them with snow.

"Will she be alright?" Serin asked quietly, even though she knew it was an unanswerable question.

Arthur shook his head, "I don't know," he told her solemnly, "I don't know."

Serin ran her fingers through Eva's dirt-streaked hair, and whispered a prayer for her sister.

Galahad returned with the cloths, and he placed them on her forehead.

"What can we do now?" Serin asked Arthur, watching Eva shiver under the thick blanket on top of her.

"All we can do," Arthur replied, "is wait, and pray."