Oh, I'm so happy you're enjoying my fic. I got so many nice reviews, you people are wonderful (individual thanks at the end of the chapter). Mostly h/c and banter in this chapter, but please don't think that the action's over yet.

Fields of Battle

By Goody

Galahad watched in horror and sadness as Lancelot was struck and collapsed. He immediately tried to make it to the injured knight's side but more men were suddenly in front of him, forcing him back and making him fight.

From the treeline, the man that had escaped Lancelot's blade earlier at the wagon now spoke with his commander, who was still hidden in the trees with an extra score of men.

"The man who was just struck claimed to be the Roman commander, he fights like one at any rate," the man reported.

The leader of the band of thieves looked out on the battlefield and watched Lancelot as he stuck his sword in the ground and used it to help rise. The knight managed to make it to his feet just as he was rushed by another of the ruthless mercenaries. Though his movements were noticeably slower, he was still able to bring up his sword and decapitate the man before he could make a single stroke with his own blade.

From the trees, the commander saw this and agreed that he was the Roman chief they were sent after.

"Let's go then," he said to the dozen men waiting for orders. "And bring him in alive for God's sake; no one will pay a ransom for a dead commander."

Now the group of men broke from the trees, far to the left flank where only Lancelot, Galahad and Gawain now fought. The band headed straight for Lancelot, though some were intercepted and killed by Gawain, while Galahad was still finishing off a few of his earlier opponents. Seeing the group approach, Lancelot took a deep steadying breath and tried to force away the debilitating waves of pain spreading from the arrow wound. It worked only marginally, but he held his sword with a steady hand and was prepared to fight.

With a battlecry to help him find strength Lancelot joined the thieves in battle, trying to kill as many as he could in quick strokes. Pain racked him though and his strength was failing him; this battle was no longer for enjoyment, it was for survival. He brought down the first man with ease, he had been running at full speed to rush the knight and Lancelot had only to sidestep, trip the man and impale him on the ground. When he turned back he found two more opponents waiting for him, and now with only one sword, he engaged both. Lancelot unleashed a flurry of parries and thrusts that kept both men at bay, but eventually realized they were not trying to kill him for he could have been overtaken by now by the large group. Just as the thought hit him so did the hilt of a sword, colliding directly against the back of his head. Lancelot fell to all fours, stunned but still gripping his sword. The thieves moved in like vultures.

Across the field Arthur noticed the battle was thinning within his ranks, but still played out strongly on the other side of the field where Galahad, Gawain and Lancelot fought. Then he looked again, more closely - where was Lancelot?

With a stab of fear in his heart he spurred his horse to the other side of the battle, leaping over men and slicing into several to clear his way. He reached Galahad first who was still fighting off mercenaries. Galahad saw his captain come near and turned to him, swiftly calling out, "Arthur! Lancelot!" he pointed to the circle of men now gathered across the field, but could say no more as two men swung at him. He ducked their blades and walked through an opening between them, cutting both their bellies open as he went.

Arthur understood the rushed message though and dashed across the field trampling any who tried to stop him. As he approached he could see Lancelot motionless on all fours in the circle of men, which meant he still lived at least. Then he was suddenly very much alive and moving, quickly. Without warning the knight lifted his blade and swung a wide arc, taking out two men at the legs and sending them to the ground in agony. Lancelot tried to rise further but was kicked hard in the side of the head, once, then twice, and lost consciousness completely. A large man with blond straggly hair seemed to be in command and ordered two of the men to pick the knight up. Each of his arms was hefted onto one of their shoulders and they began to drag him off the field.

With a cry to urge his horse on faster Arthur manoeuvred in front of the group, blocking their retreat. Before he had fully stopped he jumped from his saddle, and stood tall, the blade of Excalibur drawn and pointed towards the men. The thieves stopped in their tracks, appearing unsure, except for the blond man who had been leading the way.

"Put him down and you may leave this field with your lives," Arthur said, his voice even but still heavy with intimidation.

The blond leader smirked, confident with his men around him, and took a step back towards the men holding Lancelot upright. He grabbed a handful of the knight's hair and lifted his head, placing the blade of his sword next to the knight's exposed throat.

"Put down your sword or he dies here and now," the man replied, the sharp edge slowly pushing further into Lancelot's neck. Arthur weighed his options - he could take them all he knew, but not necessarily before Lancelot's throat was cut. If he surrendered he would be killed as would his friend later when they discovered he was not a Roman commander. Trying to consider everything, he sought out his other knights.

Looking across the field he saw that all around the small group the battle was in its final clutches. Dagonet and Narien had killed all on the right flank of the battle and were searching the bodies for survivors, unaware of what was happening to their backs. Tristan finally took out the last of the hidden archers, Bors was pulling an arrow from his leg, and Galahad and Gawain were moving across the field to stand beside their captain.

Before Arthur could choose the best course of action though Lancelot moaned and his eyes fluttered open. He was immediately alert and took in his surroundings, Arthur in front of him, his arms held firmly and a sword to his throat.

"Well, this is interesting," Lancelot commented, his ever present smirk returning. The leader of the thieves turned to him when he spoke, Arthur took a step forward and the leader spun around again, not daring to take his eyes off the knight. Lancelot took the opportunity to move and, using the men holding him as leverage, kicked the leader of the thieves hard in the chest, knocking away him and his sword.

Arthur also moved, plunging Excalibur into the blond man's chest as he was falling to the ground. The men holding Lancelot dropped him and took up their swords. The knight fell to his knees, breathing heavily and searching for a weapon. Now Galahad and Gawain had arrived and the few remaining mercenaries fell to their powerful blades, while others were being dropped by Tristan's arrows from across the field. Some tried to flee, but the knights were determined to stop this group here and now.

Lancelot sensed a man approaching from behind. Scouring the ground he saw no weapons within reach and he had lost both his swords. Now desperate for any kind of defence, he gritted his teeth as he snapped off the shaft of the arrow still deep in his gut and spun around. Standing up quickly he shoved the arrow directly through the man's throat. The thief stood for a moment, staring in shock as blood bubbled in his neck and refusing to die until the knight pushed him down almost casually and then started to walk away, one hand placed loosely over his throbbing wound.

Around the field men died in pain, brought down one by one by the mighty Sarmatians, until at last the battle was over. Gawain ran the last man through, and it was done, the knights were victorious once more.

Lancelot barely noticed. He only made it a step away from his final opponent before Arthur appeared, bloodied and sweating from battle, but concerned and not hiding it well for once. The captain placed a hand on his friend's shoulder to steady him.

"Lancelot, can you hear me?" Arthur asked when it appeared his comrade was unresponsive.

The knight was finding it hard to focus his sight but recognized Arthur in front of him. He pointed to the man and announced, slightly slurred, "Next time, you're the bait."

"Gladly," Arthur nodded and for a moment it looked as though Lancelot may be all right, but then he tried to take another step, his eyes rolled back and he collapsed. Arthur caught him easily beneath the arms and lowered him to the ground. The others were beginning to gather now - Gawain and Galahad were already behind Arthur, Narian and Dagonet were galloping over, Bors was limping closer while trying to slow the blood streaming down his leg, and Tristan was riding over but his eyes remained fixed on the forest, ever watchful for attackers or spies.

Arthur looked at his knights, only Lancelot and Bors appeared injured but all eyes were turned to the fallen Lancelot.

"Is he dead?" Galahad asked, steeling himself for the reply. They all prepared for the worst, having experienced it often enough; they knew to hope for life in their world was to meet disappointment.

Arthur placed a hand over Lancelot's mouth and felt the intake and exhale of air.

"He's breathing," he reported and knew his knights would do all they could to ensure he continued doing so.

Dagonet was holding the reins of his horse and moved to his saddlebag, removing cloth and bandages. In their line of work the knights carried only three things with them - food, weapons, and bandages. They also had a few herbs and plants known to fight off infection, but none of them were healers of any sort. Dagonet laid the bandages next to Arthur who was removing Lancelot's battle armor with the help of Gawain. Once the armor was off the arrow could be properly removed. They ripped away his tunic and then Arthur took a firm grip on what was left of the arrow shaft.

To Dagonet and Galahad he asked, "Hold him down in case he wakes."

The knights held down a shoulder each while Gawain lay over both legs. With a breath of regret Arthur pulled the arrow free from his friend's flesh. Lancelot jerked and gasped but did not awaken. Arthur cursed when he saw what he had pulled out.

"The head came off," Galahad said, seeing just the shaft in Arthur's hand.

"We'll have to leave it for now; he needs a real healer," Arthur replied, prepared to move Lancelot now. None of them were trained for this and he feared causing more harm than good if they did more.

"We should take it out now," Tristan said, having been listening as he watched the woods. "A loose tip in his gut will do more damage than the arrow did, especially once he gets on a horse."

Arthur considered it and knew it was true, every step the horse took would drive the arrow in deeper, or to the side, causing irreparable damage. The arrowhead had to come out, but he could not do it himself. He was too close to Lancelot, his friendship meant too much to him, so much that he could not risk being the cause of his death, or injury, even if by accident. Knowing this he looked to his knights, clearly agreeing with Tristan and asked, "Any volunteers?"

"I'll do it," Tristan said without hesitation. He passed his bow off to Narain, a strong swordsmen, but he had a good eye and instructed him to keep watch on the woods behind them. Kneeling beside Lancelot he turned to Arthur, his calm gaze showing no fear or trepidation, "I've done this before."

Arthur took comfort in that, even though he was probably lying since he could not recall a time any of his knights had needed an arrowhead pulled out.

Gawain spoke up though, believing the archer, "Did your patient live?"

Tristan smiled, almost to himself, "I'm here, aren't I?"

The knights all backed away to give him room since he was clearly the expert of the group on the subject, and their respect for their comrade, although thought to be immeasurably high, grew even more.

Arthur turned to Bors, whose hand was still staunching the blood flow from his own arrow wound.

"How's your leg?" he asked.

Bors smiled like it was a stupid question, "Bleeding. Went in clean though, didn't touch the bone. I'll be fine." He assured him, proof enough being that he was standing on it without complaint. Arthur nodded and turned his attention back to the ground. Tristan had only a bandage over Lancelot's wound for now and had asked for a thin piece of long metal. Galahad rummaged through his saddlebag for a moment and came back with something suitable. Tristan handed it to Dagonet, knowing he was the strongest of them all.

"Bend that as far as you can but don't break it," Tristan instructed. Dagonet did as instructed and Tristan was satisfied with it, taking it in his hands to bend it several more times, making it more flexible. He also took a small dagger from his boot and said he was ready. Looking at Arthur he added, "He's probably going to wake up."

They all understood and took position again, holding down Lancelot's arms, legs, and chest.

"Make sure you keep him still," Tristan ordered and without further warning began. He threw away the cloth he had used to soak up the blood and then slowly, but with great precision and steadiness, placed his small knife just inside the wound to keep it open and then used his new instrument to dig inside the gash for the arrowhead. Lancelot's body twitched and his head lolled but he did not make a move or sound until, after searching for a few moments, Tristan announced, "Got it" as he finally had a firm grasp on the arrowhead.

Then Lancelot's eyes shot open, glazed with pain, and a strangled cry came from his throat as he tried to escape the agonizing fire ripping through his flesh.

"Hold him," Tristan said sternly, not wanting to lose his grip on the object before he pulled it out. They all pushed down harder on the knight's limbs, immobilizing him.

"Lancelot be still," Arthur demanded but his friend seemed not to hear him.

Wide-eyed and gasping, Lancelot took in his situation and saw it was his closest friends that were holding him down, putting him through this torture, "You bastards, what are you doing?!" He demanded, still writhing as he tried to escape.

Tristan was concentrated on his task, so Arthur answered as he pushed Lancelot's shoulders down further, "You have an arrowhead lodged in your stomach. We're trying to remove it."

"So stop your whining and thrashing," Bors commanded. He had only Lancelot's legs but was surprised by how much strength it took to hold him down.

"Then hurry up," Lancelot said through gritted teeth after taking several deep breaths, then added. "I would rather have the arrowhead than Bors laying atop of me like this."

Bors was tempted to punch him, but with the pain he was in he knew that Lancelot would not feel it. But the banter undoubtedly distracted him from the agony, so Bors continued, "Better me than Dagonet here, he hasn't bathed in weeks. Maybe months."

"So you're telling me I have a choice between stench and pure horrid ugliness," he swallowed back a wave of pain. "I shall have to think about it then."

"No you won't," Tristan said, still focussed on his task. With a final jerk and hiss from Lancelot he pulled out the arrowhead, bloody but intact. "I'm done. You can let him go."

All the knights breathed a sigh of relief as they released him, then most took a step away. Arthur knelt on his other side, across from Tristan, relieved but putting on a facade of mild concern.

Arthur's thoughts were already moving on to the dread of trying to move the knight and return him home. It was a three day journey at heavy gallop and that was an especially unenjoyable pace when injured. He expressed none of this for the time though and instead asked, "How do you feel?"

Lancelot coughed once and closed his eyes then replied, "Like one of Tristan's practice targets."

"Not likely, if you did you'd be dead," Tristan said, picking through the pile of bandages.

Arthur and Lancelot chuckled at the archer's arrogance.

"Well, the thieves are dealt with so we'll be returning home. Rest for now," Arthur instructed as he rose to speak with the others.

"To hell with that," Lancelot exclaimed about to push himself up. Arthur moved to stop him but then Tristan spoke.

"Sit up first so I can bandage you, then you can do what you please," the archer said, sounding casual but knowing Lancelot should not be moving around.

With an aggravated but beaten sigh Lancelot nodded and then slowly pushed himself into a sitting position, clearly not wanting any help. It was not offered and Arthur moved off to speak with the rest of his knights who were now packing their horses and checking the dead.

"How is he?" Galahad asked when Arthur approached.

"He'll live most likely. Nothing seems to stop that man." Which Arthur was silently grateful for.

"Except a gullible woman," Bors huffed from the ground where he was tying a cloth wrap around his leg.

"Yes, there's that. In any case, I do not believe this is all of the mercenaries, but we have dealt them a stiff enough blow for now. We have to get Lancelot back to the outpost, then we'll return and deal with what's left of these thieves," Arthur decided, and though no one objected they did have some reservations.

"How are we going to move him? The wagon was stolen," Gawain pointed out. Though Lancelot had defended it well, as soon as he had fallen the mercenaries had taken the opportunity to commandeer it and were now far from reach.

"Bishop Yertan won't be happy," Galahad noted, speaking of the coach's owner.

"To hell with Yertan," Dagonet said. "If he wants it back he can go after the bastards himself."

Arthur was surprised he hadn't noticed the wagon's disappearance and cursed that it had been taken; it would have been the safest and most comfortable way of moving the injured knight.

"He'll have to ride the supply horse then. Narian, go unpack it and distribute the baggage between the rest of us," Arthur ordered. Narian moved off and did as asked of him. He never said anything and some would say it was because he had little to speak of and was a dumb brute, but the truth was he had his tongue cut out by the Woads some years earlier and could not speak. But he could fight with the best of them and was a valued member of their company.

The knights spoke briefly to decide on the route they would take home, then just as they were about to move out Tristan came from behind them, his face bearing the same neutral expression it always did.

"We might not need that supply horse unpacked. He's unconscious again, and I can't wake him, he won't be riding anywhere himself," Tristan reported, pointing behind him where Lancelot now lay alone. Arthur walked back with him to the fallen knight's side.

As the two left, the rest of the knights walked through the field, plucking arrows from the dead to replenish Tristan's bow, while Galahad searched the ground, eventually finding Lancelot's fallen swords.

"What happened?" Arthur asked, kneeling down and checking his friend's breathing again.

Tristan, still standing, explained, "He started to stand up and then he just fell back down without a word. The pain must have overwhelmed him, since he hasn't lost that much blood yet."

"He was hit in the head a few times that I saw, it may be the cause," Arthur said as an explanation, only now noticing a bloody gash in Lancelot's hair from when he had been struck. "In any case we have to get moving. We'll keep the supply horse unpacked, he'll ride with me until he awakens."

Arthur turned and whistled. His horse replied swiftly and he mounted it just as fast, motioning for the other knights to ride up alongside him. Tristan helped heft Lancelot onto Arthur's horse with him and despite all the jarring the knight still did not shift. The group assembled quickly and were ready to leave the carnage left on the field.

"Galahad and Gawain, take point. Tristan I believe your skills would be of better use at the rear this time, make sure we aren't being followed," Arthur instructed. Tristan nodded and moved to the back of the lines, ever watchful. "Let's go home."

And with those words the horses and knights immediately perked up and they galloped along the road, eager to rest and enjoy the food and women that waited for them at the outpost on 'the wall'.

At the center of their line, Bors was not looking forward to the women very much for once.

"Vanora's going to kill me. I leave for a week and when I come back I'm a limp bastard," he said to Dagonet, indicating his leg.

"I thought you were always a little limp," Dagonet commented crudely.

"Not in a hundred years - have you seen my rows of bastards? I've got too much down there actually, it's a problem sometimes. Like a baby's arm, holding an apple."

Dagonet had heard it all before and rode further back down the line with Narien.

"It's true!" Bors called out as he left, then chuckled to himself.

Galahad and Gawain were watchful as they rode but also whispered about Lancelot's health and the long ride home.

Behind the two, Arthur and his passenger rode alone. Keeping only one hand on his reins, Arthur kept the other over Lancelot's chest to steady him and so he could take comfort in the beating of his friend's heart and be certain he was alive. They rode at a fast gallop, covering a lot of ground, and though Arthur wanted to make the ride smooth, he wanted to get Lancelot home even more, so spurred the group on to their fastest speed.

TBC

Don't know when a new chapter will be up, I am quite busy in the next week or so, but I'll try.

To you wonderful people who reviewed:

Roslyn – Happy to see another Lancelot fan. Thank you for appreciating the effort I put into each one's characterization. If I get anyone wrong, please let me know.

Wregy – I updated, but the next one may not be for a week or two. I suggest savouring this chapter.

PadawanMage – Lol, I wish I had thought to have Bors blow him a kiss, it would have been perfect. I'm so sorry, but I can't read your fic just now. I recently moved and I don't have internet at my house yet. I do my writing at home and then post at the library.

OrliBloomedMe – Wow, I didn't know you could use words like that in reviews, but I don't mind since it was in the good kind of way. Just caught me off guard. Your reviews made me smile, it was quite passionate. Thank you very much.

Brownwyn/moonmip – The novelization is okay. I like to read them because the deleted scenes are all in there and you get insights into a few more of the character's thoughts and feelings. One weird thing though, throughout the whole thing Tristan is written as Tristran, it confused me.

Auroranights – Not a lot of banter this chapter with Lancelot unconscious and all but I hope you enjoyed it anyway.

Katherine4 – Thank you for liking the fight scene, I take pride in those. And this story is alternate universe or anything so Lancelot can't die, but you can still injure him severely I always say.

Gurry – Why didn't you think you would like it? Bad summary? I'm glad you did in any case.

Idril Ancalimon – Live! Please, I updated!! Live! Cliffhangers are evil, but I LOVE writing them.

Szhismine – You are not the only one who suffers from loving to see their favourite character get hurt. It is such a strange thing to enjoy, but clearly a good percent of fanfiction writers do. Including me. And it's not like the hurt is over either. There is much planned for our knights.

Kniggit – Yeah, Tristan and Lancelot were both great in the movie and they're fun to write. You should like the future chapters then.

Eh, man – Oh, thank you so much. To think I helped the entire section of Arthur fics is very kind. H/c forever!

Hell on Hooves – I didn't find Lancelot's death very moving but only because of Arthur's "Not like this, never like this" line. I'm from Canada and there's a beer commercial that uses that exact same line, so it made me laugh. Very inappropriate, but it was a good commercial. He still should have lived though, both my fave guys died in that one.

Ithil guesser jedi – Oh, more Lancelot for sure. If the novelization's right he should have had a few more lines, but nothing major. I thought he was great though.

Trinity day – what a nice long review, so few of them these days, and it was my first which made it great. Thanks for the kind words which I will try to live up to.

Whew! That's all for now. I hope to have more soon. Tell your friends, Goody!