Sorry it's been so long, the library's was closed until today so I couldn't post. I don't know what's worse, waiting for new chapters, or having a new chap written and not being able to post. Anyway, I think the fic is turning out nicely and I have to thank all of you for your great support. Best reviewers ever! Hope you enjoy this chappy, and if you thought the action was nearing an end I beg to differ for it's just beginning.
Fields of Battle
By Goody
It had been nearly an hour since the three mercenaries had stolen the wagon from the knights and proceeded to the rendezvous spot to meet with their companions, but still they sat alone beneath the large oak waiting. No one else from the battle had yet arrived.
"Where the hell are they?" Remus asked, becoming impatient and nervous.
One of his companions, Turin, was not worried but annoyed, "They probably forgot they were supposed to meet here before we returned to Thieves' Haven."
They all smiled at the thought of their sanctuary, 'The Haven' for short. It had once been a normal farming village, but then the mercenaries had come through and claimed it as their own. The few villagers left lived in fear of them and they had all the food and women they could desire, as well as all the money and goods they had stolen.
"They could not all have forgotten. We are to meet here and travel back together, so no one gets left behind," Remus reminded them all.
Sitting by himself in the shadows of the oak tree, the most reclusive of the three, Merinus, sat idly chewing on a piece of hay.
"Maybe they're all dead," he suggested. His companions laughed.
"Of course Merinus, our company of more than eighty men must have easily been defeated by the, what, seven guards protecting this wagon," Turin replied sarcastically.
Merinus shook his head, disgusted by their stupidity, "This was obviously a trap you fools. There is not a single piece of gold or jewels on this wagon and those were not mere guards, which should be obvious to anyone who saw them fight. They were knights, surely. Already they had killed a drove of our men before we left, undoubtedly more have died since then. Perhaps all."
Turin and Remus were not completely convinced yet but the seed of doubt had been planted in their mind.
After a moment Remus spoke, "Let's go back to the road and find out what happened." His companions agreed and they turned back around to follow their steps.
Nearly an hour later they found carnage and death as they had never seen before. Not even within their own ranks of mercenaries, thieves and killers had they seen so many slaughtered with such precision and skill. The field and road were impassable with the wagon there were so many bodies and body parts littering the ground.
"They are all dead. Merinus was right, the knights killed them all," Turin said in shock as he saw the dead laid out before him, some his friends, some his enemies, some strangers but all members of The Haven.
"There might be some still alive," Merinus reminded them, jumping from the coach and walking slowly through the field. Turin and Remus followed and they split off in three directions to search for any survivors. The search seemed pointless as they flipped over or kicked one bloody corpse after another, but in the end their efforts paid off and they discovered not one, but two of their companions alive. One would survive, he had a gash in his leg but had only been knocked out, while the other only had moments more to live.
Merinus knelt next to the man who still had one hand wrapped tightly around the arrow in his chest.
"Do you know who it was that did this? Who attacked us?" Merinus asked the dying man, shouting and speaking slowly so he would be understood.
With his last reserves of strength the man nodded and then replied brokenly, pulling in huge gulps of air, "It ... wa ... Arthur."
Merinus and Turin's eyes widened in shock and the man on the ground took in his last breath and died. Remus however, having come from the far south, had never heard of the great Sarmation knights and was confused.
"Who is Arthur?" he asked.
The others stared at him in disbelief, "Not someone to be trifled with. He is a Roman captain of a prestigious band of knights. They have never been defeated in battle, any battle. Some say they cannot be killed."
"All men can be killed," Remus said, not impressed.
"Well then, they cannot be killed by anyone that has yet tried. They are Sarmations, born only to kill and serve," Turin said, suddenly infinitely grateful he had left the battle early. These knights in their elements were gruesome beasts of destruction and hard to behold.
"We have to get to the Haven and tell Eviran," Merinus said, moving back to the coach. He was confident that Eviran, their leader, would know how to handle the knights, and if not, then at least escape their wrath.
The wounded man limped with them to the coach and did not look pleased by what he had to report, "We must also tell him that his son is dead."
The three men had not considered that. They had known that Eviran's son had come with them for the raid but only now noticed that he was not among the living.
"His body is over there, if you would like to return it to him," the man said, pointing to a small group of bodies to their left.
Merinus took Turin's arm and led him across the field, "Come on, we better get him. Eviran will not be pleased."
None looked forward to telling their merciless and violently impulsive leader that they had not only failed, but they had lost all their men, including his son. They wondered if they would live to see the sunset.
Left alone now with the wounded outlaw, Remus asked, "Did you see who killed him."
The man nodded, "It was the captain of these destroyers. It was Arthur."
Hours passed and the sun set with the knights stopping only once to water and rest their horses. Arthur had taken the opportunity to check Lancelot's wound and found the blood loss to be substantial, with no signs of slowing. The knight had also not woken up throughout the day.
Fighting down his concern, Arthur re-bandaged the injury and ordered his knights to set out once more. Now that they had put enough space between themselves and the mercenaries he slowed their pace in hopes of helping Lancelot heal. They rode until almost two hours past sunset; hardly anyone spoke and no one suggested that they were riding too hard since the sturdy knights and horses could endure much worse. But when the night started getting colder Lancelot's breathing changed from healthy, to shallow and harsh and his skin became clammy and increasingly pale. Arthur called his knights to a stop.
"He's getting worse, we have to make camp," he explained. They all agreed and rode just a few minutes more until they found a suitable spot.
"Narian, Dagonet, start a fire," Arthur ordered as he dismounted and pulled Lancelot down from the saddle with the help of Gawain. Tristan trotted up to his captain.
"I'll scout around."
Arthur nodded and Tristan disappeared into the forest to secure their campsite, watchful for any unnatural sights or sounds.
As Arthur and Gawain set Lancelot down next to the building fire, Arthur checked the knight's wound again.
"He's still losing a lot of blood," he reported dismally.
"Do you think we should cauterize it?" Gawain asked hesitantly. They had all seen wounds cauterized enough to not be squeamish of the sight, but it was never a joy to do it to one of their own.
"Yes, it would be best," Arthur said, clearly reluctant.
"He'll be fine Arthur. We close the wound, he'll get his strength back and then he'll be his usual cocky self again. He'll probably be insulting us before the end of tomorrow."
"I would guess around noon myself," Arthur replied his stoic expression never breaking. "We should do it now then so he may have the night to rest and recover. Go heat up an iron and get some of the others to help hold him down, I'll try to wake him."
Gawain did as asked and Arthur tried to wake his friend, knowing he would only be arising to more pain. He was tempted to leave him unconscious but having a wound seared closed would wake any man and without warning Lancelot could bite through his own tongue or worse.
"Lancelot? Lancelot wake up, it's urgent."
No response. He shook the knight as he continued.
"Lancelot, we are under attack. Arise quickly!" Still nothing. Sending out a prayer for forgiveness from God and his friend, Arthur briefly applied pressure to the bandage over Lancelot's stomach. The knight's head jerked back along with a hiss of pain. Arthur called out his name several more times and then finally Lancelot began to open his eyes.
"Arthur?" he asked, groggy and trying to focus.
"Yes, here, drink this." Arthur held a flask to the knight's lips and he drank slowly. When he was finished he managed a bare nod of thanks.
"Where are we?" Lancelot asked.
"About a half day's ride from the battle," Arthur replied. Still weary, Lancelot's eyes suddenly began to slip shut once more.
"No, Lancelot, stay awake," Arthur urged him, shaking him again.
Lancelot tried to swat him away, "Go away."
But Arthur could not allow him the rest he desired. "Lancelot, you must stay awake. Can you hear me?"
"Of course I can hear you. I was shot in the stomach, not the ear," Lancelot replied, his eyes were still closed indicating he wanted to sleep but he was clearly more awake then he appeared. "What do you want?"
"Peace, a wife, and many strong sons, but I will settle for you opening your eyes and looking at me," Arthur said nearing exasperation.
"You want a wife?" Lancelot asked in mock surprise, but then he cracked open a single eye and sobered when he saw the serious expression on his friend's face. With great effort he fought away the fatigue pulling at him and gave Arthur his full attention.
"What's wrong?" he asked and tried to sit up but stopped only inches off the ground. Pain shot through him from his abdomen and he lowered himself down again.
"That's what's wrong," Arthur replied. "You've lost a lot of blood, we've got to cauterize the wound."
"Oh fun," Lancelot mumbled sarcastically. "I should have just let Galahad die." He took a deep breath and then his face was set in a mask of readiness. "Well, what are we waiting for?"
Arthur clapped his friend on the shoulder and then rose to speak with Gawain. The iron was hot enough and the others were ready. Without words the knights took position, Galahad and Gawain on each leg, Narian and Bors each taking an arm and Dagonet on his chest.
Lancelot turned to Bors as he knelt beside him, "I thought I said I'd rather have an arrow than you lying atop of me again."
"You did. I'm here for spite, and I brought Dagonet and his smell with me," Bors replied.
"This is how a real man's supposed to smell, not like that soap and lillies scent you get after bathing," Dagonet noted.
Lancelot chuckled, "Well no one would ever accuse you of that."
"Especially since lillies wilt when he walks by," Gawain added.
The banter ended abrubtly as Arthur appeared with the iron, the pointed tip pulsating a burning red. Kneeling down, he willed his arm to steady and looked to his knights. They reinforced their hold on their comrade's limbs as Lancelot lay bare chested on the ground and took in three huge breaths. Arthur gave the knight a thick strip of leather to bite down on and then, with a steadying breath of his own, placed the burning metal into the open wound.
The sound of sizzling flesh was horrible and almost immediately replaced by Lancelot's scream through his clenched teeth. While his body spasmed from the overwhelming pain, his skin burnt and fused. All the knights flinched and turned away. What felt like hours later, when Arthur pulled the iron away, nearly all the bleeding had stopped.
"Done," Arthur announced as he took a wet bandage and placed it over the wound, knowing it would only help in the smallest degree. Lancelot remained conscious, gasping for air and trying to quell the trembling in his limbs. Every breath brought forth such agony that he briefly considered to stop breathing. The other knights released their comrade and took a step back. The scent of their own friend's burnt flesh had invaded their senses, taking away any appetite they had for the supper roasting above the fire.
"That wasn't so bad," Galahad said, simply glad it was over.
Lancelot looked at him incredulously as he gasped for air, "You want to go next?"
Galahad said nothing and turned away, mumbling something of his horse needing tending. The others left as well until just Arthur remained with him.
He had checked the wound quickly and was satisfied with it, "There's no sign of infection, I think you'll be fine."
"The women back home will be happy to hear it," Lancelot smirked, and though his eyes tried to shut he asked a festering question. "Did we finish our mission?"
He had missed the day while he was unconscious and his few memories after being shot were hazy.
Arthur shook his head, "We're done. Rest for now, we'll talk in the morning." Lancelot began to open his mouth. "I said rest Lancelot, this may be the only chance you get."
The body numbing weariness took over then and Lancelot fell into a healing sleep.
Later that night the remaining knights sat around the blazing fire as it roasted their supper, talking and joking.
"Those bastards were barely worth our time. The Romans could have handled them if they were willing to send the troops. They fought like they were taught by their grandmothers," Bors complained, poking at the fire in hopes it would cook his meat faster.
"They must have been following your example," Dagonet muttered, but all heard him and laughed.
Bors threatened him with his knife but Gawain continued, "They couldn't have been too bad if they managed to get you."
"And Lancelot." Galahad added.
"A few stray arrows finding their mark do not make them good fighters. They hit more of their own men than they did us," Bors pointed out, and none could dispute it.
"Perhaps we are just so good that no enemy can now meet our high standards," Gawain suggested.
"Or the rest of the world is getting worse," Galahad put in.
"Naw, that's just you," Bors laughed.
"At least I wasn't struck by one of those 'worthless warriors' back there like some people," the young knight slung back, kicking at Bors's injured leg.
"Having Lancelot save your backside doesn't make you a better fighter," Bors announced, his good humour dampening slightly to be replaced by mild anger.
Galahad was visibly surprised that Bors knew that Lancelot had saved his life and gotten injured doing so. The large man smirked in triumph.
"I see everything on the battlefield. I have eyes like a hawk."
A thin air of tension had mounted but was soon broken by Gawain adding, "One of those old near sighted hawks that are close to death, I assume."
Everyone laughed, none harder than Bors who agreed.
"That's exactly the one I meant."
Silence fell a few moments later and most eyes turned to Lancelot who lay on the ground behind them, blanketed and silent with the light from the flames making his pale skin appear on fire. Galahad motioned towards him, "He's sleeping an awful lot."
Gawain shook his head, "It's a serious wound, he's lucky to be alive."
"He lost a lot of blood too," Bors commented, having felt slightly weak from the blood loss of his own more minor wound. "He'll be fine."
Arthur just looked into the fire, concerned for he was the only one aware of exactly how much blood the knight had lost already. The long ride had been hard on Lancelot, and Arthur hoped that with rest his wounds may begin to heal.
"We should all take Lancelot's example and find some rest while we may. Dagonet, take first watch, Gawain, take second, and Galahad is third." Arthur instructed after they had eaten. They all turned from the fire and unpacked their horses. Just as Arthur was laying down his bedroll Galahad approached with a plate and a water flask.
"Do you think it's possible to wake him again? He really should eat something, or take some water at least," Galahad said.
"I've been loathe to try, but perhaps the smell of food will make him rise," Arthur replied as Galahad knelt across from him.
"We could pretend there are women about, then he would not sleep for long," Galahad suggested, smirking.
Arthur considered it.
"No, we shall try more traditional methods," Arthur decided, and began to shake the knight while calling his name.
It took a few moments but, with a great deal of effort, Lancelot slowly opened his eyes. It took him a moment to focus on the faces of Arthur and Galahad and then his grogginess transformed into annoyed confusion.
"Arthur?" he asked, looking around and blinking away what had been an encompassing sleep.
"You need to get up my friend," Arthur instructed, but Lancelot just closed his eyes again.
"Go away, have you not done enough for one night?" His whole body was still incredibly weak and he wanted only to rest.
"Apparently not," Arthur replied shaking him lightly and watching as the knight became more alert. "Come on, get up."
Lancelot was tempted to swat at him again but knew his captain would not stop, "I'm awake you relentless bastard. You know, if you took this same determination into battle with you, you would kill more of your enemies."
"I'll keep that in mind," Arthur said, watching as his friend began to rise.
Very slowly and trying not to flinch with each movement, Lancelot pushed himself to lean up against a tree, amazed at how weak he was. Clearly he had slept all day but felt like he could sleep for two more. Galahad passed him the water flask which he took and nearly drained.
"Do you want to eat something?" Galahad asked, holding out the plate. Lancelot took it and rested it on his lap; the meat did not appeal to his nauseated stomach but the fruit was welcome.
"So, where are we headed now?" Lancelot asked, having missed their plans of travel.
"Back to the Wall," Arthur said casually, hating to start up this conversation with Lancelot for he knew where it could lead.
"The thieves are dealt with, we're done here," Galahad added.
"You think we killed them all?" Lancelot asked, not believing Arthur would be foolish enough to think a band as strong as that one appeared to be would send all its men on one raid.
"No, but they're crippled for now at least. Bishop Yertan said the Romans thought there were only a hundred or so; we killed near that many," Arthur surmised.
"Well then let's go back and make sure we've wiped them out. I do not relish coming back here in a few weeks time when they will be ready for us to try and finish what we started and play this game again," Lancelot said, knowing what Arthur was not saying. They could wipe out this threat now but instead they were fleeing back to the Wall with all haste, because of him. Because he was hurt.
Sensing a conflict about to arise Galahad stood to leave, "I had best get some rest, I have watch later tonight."
Arthur nodded at his departure but Lancelot would not turn his steel gaze from his captain.
"We should go back," Lancelot repeated, never running from a challenge or a fight.
"The mercenaries will still be there when you are recovered Lancelot. We are going back to the outpost," Arthur also repeated, just as stubborn and resolute as his friend.
"And while we wait more people will be robbed and killed by these men," Lancelot pointed out.
"Romans that you care nothing about," Arthur said, picking apart Lancelot's argument.
"But you do," Lancelot said, his anger dying and being replaced by calm understanding, "You place my health above the lives of innocents and you know I do not deserve such consideration."
"I place your life quite highly, you have saved enough innocents in your time to deserve all levels of consideration," Arthur replied and though he meant every word down to his heart, he had to admit he had worried about the remaining mercenaries. He also wished though that Lancelot would someday realize his own self worth. The knight, though an amazing warrior and fearless, always believed that morally he would be nothing without Arthur. A warrior with no purpose or drive, he would not be looking to save people or make peace, he would be looking for battle and death only.
Lancelot was growing tired again and he felt his eyes start to droop but had to make one final point, "Even so, it does not take seven knights to escort one. If there are so few of these men left it would not take all our numbers to stop them."
The look on Arthur's face proved he had not considered this and could not immediately come up with a reply.
"I'll think about," Arthur promised, and cut Lancelot off before he could argue. "Truly, I will. Now get some rest, no matter what course I decide we will be riding out at first light."
Lancelot tried to deny it, but he was fatigued beyond all measure. With only a nod and half smile as a response his eyes slipped closed and his head fell back into sleep. The change was so sudden that Arthur placed a hand by his friend's mouth again and was comforted by the steady breathing. Arthur sighed and stood to leave his friend at rest.
Throughout the camp the other knights had their bedrolls spread and occupied. Dagonet stood on watch on the other side of camp but Arthur walked slowly away from the fire, gazing up at the stars, lost in thought. He spun when a branch snapped to his left and did not drop his guard until Tristan stepped out from the shadows having finished his scouting.
"Find anything?" Arthur asked as the archer stood beside him.
Tristan shook his head, "Nothing yet, if they are trying to catch us they would still be nowhere close though. We'll be okay for tonight."
Arthur looked back up at the stars considering all their options.
"How close is the nearest town?"
Tristan looked to the north, calculating how far they had travelled that day and the locations he knew of, "There's a village, Omiscrus, with about seventy people, just up and then off the road. We're about a four hour's ride from it now."
That was closer than Arthur had hoped for. His gaze dropped from the sky to the ground where Lancelot lay, pale but alive.
"I heard you talking," Tristan admitted, letting Arthur know he understood the situation and was willing to offer advice.
Arthur wasn't surprised; he turned back to the scout, "I didn't tell him how much blood he's lost, but he seems to think he'll be fine, which is for the best. He wouldn't last through another two and a half day's hard ride to the Wall but we cannot take a slower pace if the rest of those men are behind us."
Saying it aloud made the situation suddenly more real and Arthur felt a cold stab of dread in his stomach. His best friend could die if he made the wrong choice now, and with him would go Arthur's will and the only joy he found in his harsh life.
"The village would take him, they're good people, farmers. I don't know if they have a healer," Tristan said having only been there once.
"He just needs a place to recover while we deal with these murderers," Arthur said, more to himself than Tristan. Seeming to have all he needed, Arthur turned back to the camp. "I'll sleep on the matter. Go rest as well, our next day will be long no matter what the case."
Tristan did so without reply and Arthur turned to his own bedroll but found little sleep. His mind was filled with plans of action, but also with possible consequences, both good and bad. Whatever course he chose he had to consider the lives of his knights, the health of his friend, and any innocents who may become involved. As sleep tried to take a hold on him he decided he could not predict the future, despite all his considerations, and would do what he felt was right, as he had always done. He knew his close friendship with Lancelot was clouding his judgment with concern but he also knew the choice he had to make.
TBC
Decisions, decisions. Arthur better choose fast because the rest of those mercenaries will be fast approaching. Hope you all enjoyed, I don't know when I'll have more so I hope you're all patient as well.
And to my fantabulous reviewers!!!!
Leap of Fate – this is definitely the most detailed fighting I've ever written in a fic. I hope it wasn't too intense, but I'm glad I got my imagery across. Thanks for your input.
PadawanMage – I liked that line too, but you're the only one who commented on it. I imagine that Tristan and the others have all had some great individuals conflicts and struggles so I mentioned the arrow thing, but now that I think about, that alone might make a good fic. Glad you're enjoying.
AshleyA – Oh, I love finding Lancelot fans, he is a wonderful character, to watch and write. I recommend you continue worrying, because the Lance hurt is not yet done, the other knights just get pulled into it.
Idril Ancalimon – You seem so caught up in the story, thank you for your interest. Will they get followed? Time will tell I suppose. Or I will, I guess.
Regan – Actually, I didn't mention how long before the movie it was. Let's say, three months or so, cause there is still only eight of them. I probably won't mention a lot about the Woads and the knights' freedom though, that's a story all its own as we all know.
Brownyn/Moonmip – Thank you for clearing that up, it makes sense now. I was just picturing the author of the book talking on the phone with the film people and jotting down the name wrong. I almost wrote him as Tristran in the story.
Shauna – That was a fantastic review. Don't worry about reviewing all at once, I have also spent late nights reading fanfictions worrying that I would wake the parents and siblings. I believe all true fanfic readers do it. You have one thing right, if the knights have anything in abundance it's trouble. Hope to see you for more.
Flashgriffin – I also liked Tristan quite a bit, and he gets a good role in the fic I think. A Gawain fan as well though, that surprises me. He was a wonderful character but I think you're the only one who has expressed him as your favourite. Hope I wrote him well enough and thanks for reading even though it's mostly a Lancelot fic.
Eh, Man – I'm from New Brunswick, about as far from you as possible really. I've never even been to the Prairies let alone BC, hope it's nice there. Wow! You get Alexander Keith's commercials in BC? That's awesome, I had no idea they stretched so far. Here's hoping the H/C in this chapter lived up to my previous work.
Satine19 – Thank you for liking the story so much. There is no romance planned for anyone in this fic (but I'm sure you can find something in the rest of the section) but I will be introducing a female character later, I'll be happy to name her Sarah.
Szhismine – Well, you can never have enough h/c, now really. I pretty much spread it throughout the fic, so there's always a little more coming. Thanks for the kind words of inspiration.
Katherine4 – Your phrasing in your review is great. "angsty pain" is a nice expression I will probably steal from you.
Hell on Hooves – Yeah it was probably uncomfortable for Arthur but he doesn't mind, it's for Lancelot after all. I know what you're trying to say with the team work thing and thank you, I like to try and give all the knights a part.
Roslyn – Another Canadian, awesome! We may have to write in to the movie to get an alternate death scene put in the DVD that doesn't copy that commercial, that would make me quite happy.
Don't know when the next update will be, sorry. Hope you'll all be here when it comes though, and I'd love to hear what you think will happen next.
Goody