At First Light
Chapter II
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Horses cantered to and fro. Young lads barely out of their childhood swung swords longer that they were, the youthfulness of their face contrasting with the ferocity in their eyes. Fort Hilden was bustling with activity, as recruits came far and wide, answering the call to posters that had been put up. Hadrian's Wall, the chief and main defense of Britton, was in dire need of reinforcements. Britton itself also needed to rebuild its army—having depended entirely on the Romans for order and protection in the past.
Meanwhile, five knights drove their mounts at a leisurely pace, seemingly absorbing the festive spirit around them.
Gawain looked up and around from his mount. "That's refreshing. Tis actually sunny."
"Strange that you should want for rain." Galahad chuckled.
"I don't. Pity to have this party get rained on. Blessed in the morning, then get cursed after."
"Uurgh"—Bors grunted as he flexed his hefty bottom. "Me saddle is beginning to dig through my ass. " He huffed. "Five days on horseback. Lancelot's better have a softer bed for me tonight…Hey Dagonet," Bors hollered to his back, "What can you say about our little reunion?"
"Arthur should have been with us." Galahad lamented to Gawain. "If what Tristan says is true."
"He can't leave Scotland, not when peace is so close he can taste it. And he is more than safe with his cavalcade of Woads… We all received the same report from Tristan, and Arthur felt that we had to inform our friend." Gawain turned to Tristan, who has been silent the entire time. "Looking for your hawk again?"
Tristan didn't reply to that, and only motioned his head slightly to his right. "These boys can shoot."
Rows of bodies lined the field, bending to retrieve an arrow to arm their bows. Young faces squinted, aiming their arrows center to the target. Their proud stances, and the sharp angle that their bows tilted evoked memories in the knights of their training. Each became fifteen again, seeing themselves in the young men.
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Lancelot parted the heavy draperies aside, letting in more light to his study. He went back to a stack of scrolls thrown carelessly at a tray on his table, poring over cases, summons, and land titles. Five years into the Reformation, he had to deal with feuding landlords, thieves and other domestic and unexciting concerns. Lancelot more than occasionally felt frustrated enough to hack a sword to pieces, but he stuck to Hadrian because Arthur was counting on him. No enemy force can get into Britton without passing through Hadrian, so he had to be constantly alert for its security. The threat of another invasion was never far off.
A young soldier garbed in light armor ran up to Lancelot's table. "Sir, Knights have arrived at the Fort. We've let them in to fireplace and await your presence."
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"Dandy place." Bors regarded the assortment of swords, axes, and other lethal objects that adorned the walls. "Arthur should have sent me to Hadrian, instead of Lancelot."
Tristan was busy inspecting a silver plated box.
"I'm quite happy with Cornwall." Galahad remarked, taking his seat at a pillowed chair. "Hadrian's too much trouble to enjoy."
"How about you, Dagonet. What of Devon?" Gawain asked, throwing another log into the fire.
"It's a quiet place. You should visit it sometime."
"I will." Gawain assured. "You've a big farm, I hear. Maybe you can teach me a cropping trick or two."
"What I would like to know is what happened to Bors' village." Tristan teased with his rare sense of humor. Chuckles came from the knights.
"Gettin' bigger everyday." Bors answered with a grin. "Vanora wanted a big family, so I'm givin 'er a big family."
Laughter ensued.
"I see you've made yourselves comfy." Lancelot beamed, obviously pleased to see his comrades.
"Have you had supper?" Lancelot remarked later, when the rounds of backslapping had ended.
"Nah, we wanted to eat with you laddy. What are we having?"
"Roasted everything." Gawain answered Bors. "And that would be fine, because I've been hearing my stomach grumble all they way from Tully."
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The Knights clustered to the nearest table and pulled up chairs. If they were not eating, they were talking, telling each other tales of their assigned territories. As the wine ran out and spirits mellowed, Lancelot then pursued the reason why his friends had to abandon their posts and came to see him—all at the same time.
"So…" Lancelot started, his dark eyes peering from the rim of his cup. "What brings you all to Hilden?"
A long silence followed after Lancelot's question. "Saxons have been seen camping in the coasts of Thule." Tristan said at last.
Lancelot took a swig from his goblet. "Shall I start sharpening my sword and assembling the men?" he asked drily.
"We don't think they are capable of a full scale war." Gawain countered, scratching his dagger crossly at the table. "Their army is not yet that strong."
"But they may have already crossed the North Sea." Tristan argued. "We have to assume that they are already here."
"If they decided to attack anyway, we may not be strong enough to repel them either. But they also know they can't risk finding out for themselves."
The six knights were quiet, contemplating of the possible ways of what a weak and small Saxon army can possibly do to Britton.
"If they are too small for an army, they will not be coming in ships to tell the world that they are." Galahad mumbled thoughtfully. "So they will come in boats—small enough to pass through the night unnoticed."
"A few boatfuls of soldiers won't do them much good. They will have to resort to smaller, more discreet ways of attack." Lancelot finally spoke. "If they want Britton to fall, they have to weaken us from the inside. Worm their way into our towns and employ some poor and willing townsmen. Then, they will move to dispose of choice commanders..." He mulled over his own words, brows knotted in thought. "Even that, they still can't make Britton fall. They can't go invading all of Britton without breaching Hadrian first."
"To invade Britton, They have to bring down Hadrian." Bors concluded. "An they don't stand a chance." Bors declared proudly, slinging an arm over Lancelot's shoulder.
A grim look settled over Gawain's face, realization dawning as to where all the possibilities pointed. "The Saxons are after Lancelot."
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I don't want you to go, Guinevere. The omens do not bid you well." Merlin chastened the woman who has become a daughter to him. Guinevere strode past Merlin, the train of her dress flicking proudly. She scanned the table and picked up a loaf of bread, some meat, and anything else that would sustain her in her journey. "The knights need all the help they can get."
"And they don't need a Queen to worry them more."
"I am not a burden Merlin. And a Queen needs to make sure that the King's land remain his."
"Guinevere, you are about to walk into a forked road of life. One path leads to your future, another leads to your grief. I fear for you, my child. I forbid you to go."
A/N: 08/03/04
Yes, Guinevere is in the story. The plot thickens!
Missing Lancelot already? I finally got things straightened out. Links are again available—esp. that enchanting link to Lancelot. (laughs) I really love this wallpaper. Look up my fanficnet profile and enjoy!
Q:Where is Cornwall, Devon, Thule, and Fort Hilden?
Cornwall, Devon: exists in present day UK., but also in King Arthur's time. You can find a map from the links I posted in my profile.
Thule: What Norway was called. (from Prince Valiant) Has anybody here watched Prince Valiant?
North Sea: What separates Britain from Norway. (Thule)
Fort Hilden: doesn't exist.It's mine. I imagined it would lie close to Hadrian's Wall, somewhere in the middle.
I'll post another chapter sometime this week. And to those who reviewed, thanks a lot! (Blows a kiss)
Celine Bry: Can't wait for more? I can't either. Keep those reviews coming. ;D
Sweet A.K: It's that good? (feels oneself float to the clouds) yellow-faith: Thanks for reviewing! szhismine: Glad that the story is interesting! Commodores R Ppl 2: Thanks for reviewing!