Well, I'm all settled in to university but I still have no internet in my room, I'm posting from the library. The technician must be ignoring me, so as soon as I have some online connections I'll probably be posting a lot more. Class isn't taking up nearly as much time as I thought so I will probably have lots of time to write in the future. Well, I'll bore you with author's notes at the end, here's the anxiously awaited next chapter of …
Fields of Battle
By Goody
"Nothing. There's no sign of anyone for miles."
Arthur picked up his horse's reins as he listened to Tristan's scouting report, knowing better than to question the archer. In all his years with him, Arthur had yet to see Tristan make any error in his scouting so knew to believe that the thieves were nowhere close by.
"Perhaps they did not bother to try and follow us," Gawain suggested as he also led his horse away from the watering hole they had stopped at while Tristan scouted ahead. "They knew we had a huge head start, they must have known they would not catch us."
"It seems almost too logical for men of this sort, but you're probably right," Arthur said, mounting his horse again. They had been riding for several hours already and would arrive at yesterday's battlefield only a few hours after mid-day. "We'll have to find them ourselves if they won't come to us."
"It's better this way," Bors announced gleefully. "We get to hunt them down; earn our kill."
"You're no better than a starving wolf on the prowl, Bors," Gawain noted, rolling his eyes.
"He's worse," Tristan commented as he fed his hawk. "Wolves kill for food, Bors kills for sport."
"And you don't?" Bors asked incredulously of the archer.
A predatory smile emerged on Tristan's face as his only reply.
Bors laughed, "That's what I thought."
"Let's keep moving," Arthur urged his knights, "I want to be done with these murderers by nightfall."
"You sure we'll be able to find this village they supposedly took over?" Gawain asked, bringing his horse next to Arthur's.
"Bishop Yertan gave us a fairly detailed location, it should be enough."
Bors huffed, "Probably won't need to find it anyway, if they aren't after us then they're most likely picking up their dead. That alone will take them all day."
"To meet their end in the same field as their companions, it's almost poetical," Gawain said smirking.
"Let's not leave them waiting then," Dagonet said, clearly ready to move out again. Arthur nodded and the five knights continued their hard gallop towards their quarry.
"Lancelot, can you hear me?"
The fog that was slowly clouding Lancelot's mind lifted slightly when Galahad spoke but the knight found it hard to form a response.
"Yes … just … tired," Lancelot said slowly, his breathing irregular and his eyes slipping shut.
After resting earlier the group had started to move at a faster pace; it was more tiring but would get them to the village, and medical aid, much sooner. Galahad had even taken the lead for awhile but was so focused on their path he did not notice as Lancelot's condition slowly worsened. The fever and heat of mid-day were robbing the injured knight of the little energy he had and soon even the throbbing pain in his side was not enough to keep him conscious. When his eyes had finally closed in sleep his horse suddenly had no master and nearly rammed into Narian. The silent knight had pulled to a stop, taking hold of Lancelot's reins to make him do the same. The horse stopped easily but Lancelot remained unconscious and would have fallen from his saddle if Narian had not caught him.
Galahad noticed this and turned around to help Narian pull Lancelot off the horse and place him safely on the ground.
As Lancelot's eyes once again closed in sleep, Galahad sighed and placed a hand on the knight's forehead.
"He's burning up, worse than before," he announced. Narian had heard Arthur explain that Galahad was in charge so waited for his orders.
"I don't want to move him anymore, but we must be close to the village by now," Galahad pointed out. Both knights looked to the sky to check the sun's position and saw it had been about four hours since they parted from the others. Narian shrugged and cocked his head in the direction of the village, indicating he thought they should keep moving.
"All right, we'll keep going. Let him ride with you and I'll tether his horse to mine," Galahad instructed. Narian nodded in agreement and mounted his horse again then helped pull Lancelot into the saddle with him when Galahad hefted him up. Once the knight was safely mounted Galahad tied the riderless horse to his own and they set out once more.
It was half an hour before they reached the village. When they approached they saw a young woman walking along the road leading to Omiscrus but before they could call out to her she caught sight of the hardened warriors and fled through a shortcut in the woods, screaming to the villagers in warning.
"Wait, we mean you no harm!" Galahad had yelled, but to no avail. The woman only screamed louder and ran faster, refusing to listen.
"Strangers! They're here! They're here! Run!" the woman yelled fearfully over and over.
This might be harder than I thought, Galahad realized as they rode into the small village, Arthur's words of warning still echoing in his head. They approached slowly to appear non-threatening but it had little effect on the panicked villagers. Women and children were already running for cover and shelter while the men picked up pitchforks and axes to defend their homes against what they thought to be murderers and thieves.
"Wait, please," Galahad said again, becoming frustrated when he was ignored.
A small semicircle of armed men soon formed around the three knights. Fighting their instincts, Galahad and Narian did not draw their weapons, knowing they needed these people to trust them.
An older man stepped forward from the crowd, one of the few with a real weapon, a long sword, and spoke to Galahad, "Get away! There's nothing but farmers here, you might as well leave now, we don't have money or treasures. We don't want any trouble."
"And we don't want to give you any," Galahad replied, understanding their wariness. He jumped from his horse to speak more appropriately with the man but was immediately bombarded with threatening looks and weapons. He put up his hands and continued, "Sir, I know what you must be thinking but we are not part of the thieves that have been attacking your neighbours. We are knights of Rome. Our party set out to stop these murderers for good and my comrade was injured in battle. We ask only for aid, he is grievously wounded."
The man he spoke to was clearly the village leader and though wary, seemed an honest man. He looked them over, contemplating their story. Lancelot did indeed appear very sick, his skin was pale and sweat dotted his forehead. Galahad and Narian had also drawn no weapons against them, and there were only three after all. But it was possible they were scouts or spies sent by the mercenaries to gauge their defenses.
"You do not look like any Roman knight I have ever seen," the old man commented, noticing that they wore no uniform or mark of knighthood.
Galahad looked at himself and his companions, "We are knights of Rome, but not from it. We are sarmations, under the command of Arthur Castus."
"The great Arthur? Where is he then?"
Galahad pointed to the south, "With the rest of our company tracking down the last of the thieves." When it appeared the man had no more to say or ask Galahad continued. "We would not be staying long and can pay for any care you give."
With a nod and a sigh the man lowered his weapon and with him did the group of relieved men.
"You really aren't Roman if you're willing to pay for anything at all. What is his injury?" the man asked, clearly accepting them as friends.
Galahad smiled as Narian carefully dismounted and, with the help of one of the villagers, gently pulled Lancelot to the ground with him.
"It is an arrow wound, in his stomach," Galahad replied to the man.
With a sweeping gesture the leader motioned them to a large house at their left, "He may stay at my home, I have an extra bed since my son took a family of his own. My name is Lorin, I am the village elder."
Galahad introduced them as they walked, "I am Galahad, this is Lancelot and Narian. Thank you for your kindness. Do you have a healer by any chance?"
"We do, but he is away to another village a few hours from here. A woman there is giving birth and their midwife died from fever this past winter, he will probably be gone for a day or two," Lorin said regretfully as he held open the door to his house. Galahad took one of Lancelot's arms from the villager that was supporting him and helped Narian move him into the house. "It is the room on the right."
Galahad and Narian found the room easily and deposited Lancelot on the bed after stripping him of his outer tunic.
"I think he will sleep for some time," Galahad guessed. "He has been pushing himself too hard."
"We will care for him as best we can. Did you say you had destroyed the threat of the thieves from this land?" Lorin asked hopefully. Their village had been living in fear for months due to the mercenaries and word of their destruction would help many of the villagers, including himself, sleep at night.
"Most of them, we think. We set a trap for them several miles up the road and wiped out all we came across, the rest of our company is searching out any more that may have eluded us," Galahad said, then noticed Lorin looking suspiciously at Narian.
"That is good news," Lorin said, then nodded his head towards Narian. "He doesn't say much does he?"
Galahad chuckled, "He doesn't say anything at all."
"Lorin, I came as soon as I could," A young voice said from behind. The two knights turned to see a boy in his late teens standing hesitantly in the doorway.
"Oh, come in. This is Alex, he is our healer's apprentice," Lorin explained, leading the young man in.
"Well, actually, I'm … I'm practically a healer already, my uh training is almost finished," Alex assured them defensively as he sat on the bed beside Lancelot. He checked the knight's pupils and then laid a hand on his forehead. "How long has he had the fever?"
"Only a few hours, it came upon him quickly on the journey here," Galahad replied watching Alex inspect Lancelot's wounds. The boy may have been meek in front of the imposing knights but it could not be denied he had skill as a healer.
"Maybe we can bring it down just as quickly then. I need cold water and cloth," Alex instructed as he unwrapped the bandage around Lancelot's torso. Lorin excused himself to get the items Alex requested, leaving the two knights alone with the healer in training, feeling slightly unsure of their duty now that their job was done.
The young man's lack of experience first began to show when he had finally pulled the bandage away and saw the cauterized wound underneath. He flinched at first and swallowed loudly, not accustomed to treating battle wounds, but then regained his composure after a few moments.
"This wound is well cared for already; did you cauterize it yourself?" Alex asked, feeling uncomfortable with the knights just staring at him silently.
"No, our captain, Arthur, did it."
Alex's head shot up, his eyes sparkling, "Arthur? Arthur Castus? You are his knights?"
Galahad and Narian nodded, not overly enthused to deal with young fans and their hero worship at the time.
"But … but he's a legend. I have heard so many stories of his battles. What's he like? What kind of man is he?" Alex asked, enraptured by the thought of the noble warrior and momentarily forgetting about the man in his care.
Galahad sighed but his grim look swiftly changed to a subtle smirk. Bending over, he leaned in closer to the boy, making eye contact with him so he would understand his message perfectly, "He is an unforgiving savage on the battlefield, merciless almost, he's wiped out armies even after their surrender; in fact, he would cut your throat without a second thought. As it is that happens to be his closest friend in your care right now, so it may be best to focus on the task at hand."
Alex faltered for a moment then nodded, swallowed fearfully once more and turned back to his task, "I'm sorry, I've just heard so many stories."
"Forget them, they're lies or exaggerations." At least, all the stories he had heard so far were, after all, he was hardly in any of them.
"Oh, well, this wound is … uh … it's not that serious now, must hurt like hell, which you probably know. But there's … there's no sign of infection. I just have to get his fever down; it was probably caused by exhaustion and blood loss," Alex said, becoming increasingly nervous around these knights. It was then that Lorin returned with the requested items; Alex was thankful for the distraction and the company.
"How is he?" Lorin asked when he came in.
"Good," Alex replied quickly and assuredly. "Very good, I think he'll be fine in time, as long as the fever doesn't get too bad. I … I don't think it will."
"Wonderful. Alex seems to have things in hand here, and you both look like you could use a good meal. Would you care to accompany me to lunch," Lorin offered, leading them back into the hall.
The knights accepted but before he left Galahad turned back to the boy once more, his gaze intense, "Remember my words."
Alex nodded, "Task at hand, I won't forget."
Galahad seemed to size him up one last time, then turned back to the hallway to follow Lorin to the local tavern for a meal. Alex sighed when they were gone and focused on the task at hand as he promised. Wetting a cloth he placed it on Lancelot's forehead, mumbling, "I think I may be in over my head. I hope you're more pleasant than your friends when you wake up."
It wasn't long before the entire village was gossiping about the arrival of the knights and the destruction of the thieves that they had been living in fear of. But the residents of Omiscrus were not the only ones interested in the arrival of the knights.
Outside the village, hiding in the brush, Eviran's most trusted scouts watched the road leading into Omiscrus, watchful for any new visitors. The group of thieves had arrived several hours ago; by taking the shortcut through the woods, hardly resting in the night, and then riding hard again in the morning, they had beat the knights to the village by two hours. The group was now camped secretly in the woods outside the village, prepared for their ambush as soon as the knights arrived.
The scouts sent to watch the road stayed well hidden when the three knights passed, but were confused because they had been told there would be at least seven of them, and perhaps eight or ten.
"That's not all of them," the first scout pointed out when the knights were out of sight.
"The others may be behind, or took another path," the second suggested.
"It's not our job to guess things like that. Go back to camp, tell Eviran about the three we saw, I'll catch up if the others come along."
The second scout agreed and was off running through the brush to reach their campsite. It was twenty minutes before he arrived, panting but eager to deliver his news. He found Eviran in his tent, sharpening his blade.
"Are they here?" Eviran asked, a small hint of excitement in his voice at the prospect of battle and revenge.
"Three of the knights just arrived, the injured one and two others. We haven't seen any sign of the rest," the scout reported, hoping it would be enough to please their leader.
"Was Arthur with them?" Eviran asked, his teeth grinding with hatred at the name - hatred at the man who killed his son and stole from him more than half of his powerful followers.
The scout appeared flustered and surprised by the question, "I do not know sir. I have never seen him, but I do not think so. One seemed too young and the other far too … common to be the Roman captain."
Eviran threw his ale cup to the ground, smashing it, "I want Arthur!" he snarled, then quickly composed himself once more, showing the logic and wisdom he had used to gain his position. "We'll wait a few hours in case the others show up. If they aren't here by nightfall we'll attack anyway, have some fun."
"What if Arthur doesn't come?" the scout risked asking.
"He'll come," Eviran smirked, feeling he understood the knight quite well if gossip and rumor were to be believed. "He won't leave behind three of his knights, from what I hear he can't afford to lose any of them."
The scout had no more to say and Eviran sent him back on patrol, "Keep your eyes open, he's swifter than the wind."
Alex smiled to himself, content that his life was safe from danger for the time being. The knight in his care was doing much better than he had been several hours ago when he was brought in, meaning those other knights and Arthur would have no reason to be angry. He had coaxed water and soup down the knight's throat to keep him hydrated and with constant care had managed to bring down the fever as well. It was fortunate his friends had brought him in when they did, for a few more hours on horseback, out in the wild, and the fever would not have been nearly so controllable.
He took the damp cloth off the knight's forehead and was pleased to find his temperature was quite cool. But before he could pull away an impossibly fast and strong hand had grabbed his wrist, stilling all movement.
A yelp escaped his lips as he tried to pull away but the grip was strong. Alex looked down to see his patient had awoken and a pair of curious brown eyes was staring back at him.
"Where am I and who are you?" Lancelot calmly asked the frightened teenager as his eyes scoured the room.
"This … this is Omiscrus. You're in the house of the village elder. I'm … uh … I'm Alex, a healer," he stuttered and shook as he spoke, suddenly doubting this knight was any bit more polite than his comrades.
Lancelot seemed to accept this and smiled slightly, then released the boy's wrist, "Very well then," and started to rise. He felt slightly stronger than he had that morning and breathing was not as painful, but his injury was far from healed.
"Well, a … a healer's apprentice actually, but I'm a very fast study. I'm … I'm practically a healer already, I really don't have much … much else to learn," Alex continued on nervously as Lancelot pushed himself into a sitting position. "I mean you … you are doing much better than you were, and I alone took care of you, so I … I guess I'm not so very bad."
The knight stared at him with a note of irritation, "Why are you still talking?" Alex opened his mouth to answer but Lancelot cut him off, "Not a question you answer boy. Where are my friends?"
"Oh, they're with Lorin, I'll … I'll just go get them," Alex said quietly when it was clear Lancelot was not interested in most of what he had to say.
"I'll come with you," Lancelot said, throwing his feet over the side of the bed, then slowly rising and stretching.
Healer's instinct automatically put Alex right in front of the knight, trying to dissuade him, "No!"
Lancelot, who Alex only now realized was a whole foot taller, gazed at him incredulously, "Excuse me?"
"That is … I … I don't think you should be getting up … just yet. You're not … well," Alex's voice dropped once again when Lancelot's look became threatening.
"And are you going to stop me?"
Alex knew he could not, "No."
"Good, then take me to my comrades. I am sure it will not be too strenuous, on me at least," Lancelot said, slightly amused by the boy's awkward concern.
"They're … follow me," Alex led the knight outside and then down the road through the village connecting them to the main street. Narian and Galahad were both on horseback, watching the road and village.
"They have been patrolling since they got here, your friends are a little paranoid," Alex said lightly, trying to get Lancelot to smile.
Lancelot however was not amused, "They're cautious, and they have a right to be." No longer in need of him, Lancelot dismissed Alex, "Go back home boy, it's safer."
"There's no danger here," Alex remarked with a scoff. Lancelot turned to him, his eyes burning into him once more.
"You think not?"
Again Alex swallowed, but he did not reply. He took the knight's advice and went home. Shaking his head at the impertinence of youth that only he was allowed to have, Lancelot approached his fellow knights.
Galahad smiled to see him conscious and standing on his own power, "Lancelot, how are you feeling?"
Lancelot almost answered 'fine' but did not wish to be kicked once more and replied, "Well enough to bed a woman."
"Good to see you are yourself again," Galahad said, rolling his eyes.
"Not quite myself, I did say only one woman after all," Lancelot added. Both Galahad and Narian laughed at his arrogance.
"I shall be sure to warn the village elder," Galahad remarked looking once more down the road.
Lancelot became serious as well, "Any sign of Arthur?"
"None. They will probably be a few more hours, it depends on where they find the rest of the bastards," Galahad said, knowing the others may have to go even farther than they had yesterday in order to find the entire group.
"We shall have to wait then. In the mean time, where can I get some food around here?" Lancelot asked, starving after his hours of unconsciousness.
Narian dismounted and indicated he would show him the way. Lancelot followed him and saw Galahad hadn't moved.
"Are you coming?" Lancelot asked.
"I already ate. You go, I'll stay on watch."
So Lancelot followed Narian to the only tavern in the small village, but before he could enter he found himself shaking hands with a notably strong, old man.
"Hello, I am Lorin, the village elder. You sarmations heal amazingly well, I must say. Not that I am not pleased, but Alex said you would probably be in bed for at least a few days and here you are, up and about," Lorin said, not unpleasantly. Lancelot had no real desire to speak to the man, but did appreciate that he detected no insincerity in him.
"Yes, us sarmations are hard to keep down. You've been speaking with Galahad then," Lancelot stated, mentally noting that he had to have a talk with the younger knight about not revealing their identities. Didn't he know they had enemies everywhere?
"At great length this afternoon. I must go I'm afraid, but you are welcome to stay until you are fully recovered, which may not be very long from the look of you," Lorin commented, shaking the knight's hand again.
"Probably not," Lancelot admitted, knowing they would be gone as soon as Arthur arrived.
"I will speak with you later," Lorin promised and then disappeared down the road.
"I'll look forward to it," Lancelot mumbled. He looked at Narian, who just shrugged, and then followed the will of his stomach and entered the tavern.
From the forest, curious eyes watched all that the knights did, but still no action was taken from the thieves and murderers. Nightfall was coming soon though and then they would hold back no longer.
"Something is not right here," Arthur said looking over the field. His instincts told him that he had chosen the wrong path, that something was wrong with the decision he had made that day. Arthur believed strongly in following his instincts, for they are a warrior's best companion and what they had come across only increased his feeling that they should turn back.
It was six hours past mid-day and the five knights had just arrived to find the previous day's battlefield exactly how they left it.
"Damn brutes. They must feel no honor or companionship at all," Gawain said with disgust as he gazed over the field.
"They're nothing but savages, they didn't even pick up their dead," Bors added, almost angry at the lack of respect these thieves showed, even to their own companions. Bodies and limbs remained sprawled across the field, untouched from the previous day and the ground was still red with blood.
"What if we were wrong? Maybe we did kill them all," Tristan suggested, not believing that even ruthless murderers would be so uncaring for their dead as to leave them to rot in plain sight.
"That does not seem right either," Arthur muttered, unable to shake the feeling that he had made a mistake. "We missed something. We did not meet them on the road and they have not tended their dead so where are they?"
"At that village we were told about, they must be," Gawain said, seeing no other option.
"Perhaps, but I do not wish to waste a day searching for it if they are not," Arthur commented, now deep in thought on their next course of action. Movement suddenly drew his eye to the far end of the field.
"Down there," he said pointing. He looked to his right and saw that Tristan had noticed it as well. The archer narrowed his gaze and waited until he could pinpoint the source. Then, without a word of warning, he unslung his bow from his back and fired into the tree line. A scream of pain came from the arrow's landing point and the knights galloped across the field to see what they had caught.
"You didn't kill him did you?" Bors asked as they rode, knowing they would need information from the spy.
"I aimed for his leg," Tristan replied. The knights entered the forest and easily found the man on his stomach, slowly dying from the arrow protruding from his back.
Bors shot Tristan a look of disapproval, but the archer just shrugged, "Didn't say I hit it."
Arthur had no time for banter though, he dismounted his horse and approached the injured man. When he turned him over to face him he could hear the rattle of jewelry and gold pieces, undoubtedly stolen from the dead.
"You are one of these thieves, where are the rest of your companions hiding?" Arthur asked, pulling the man up to face him.
"Why should I tell you?" the man hissed as he gasped for breath.
Arthur did not hesitate to respond, his voice thick with intimidation, "Your wound is fatal, but how long it takes you to die is up to me."
The man's eyes widened; he understood the threat.
"Where are they?" Arthur asked again.
"After you," the man whispered, saving his strength for breathing.
"They must be invisible then, we didn't run into them," Gawain pointed out, knowing they could not have been passed without knowing it.
The dying man actually chuckled, "You think this road is the only way through these woods? There were people passing through here long before the Romans came with their roads."
"They took a different path?" Arthur asked, realizing what he had missed earlier and knowing before he heard the answer that he had made a grave mistake.
"Yes."
"Where were they going?" Arthur pressed, somehow hoping they would be nearby or trying to beat them to 'the wall'.
"Omiscrus," the man hissed, his strength fading. "Eviran knew you would take your injured man there."
"But instead we sent him there alone," Bors said disdainfully, angry now that he had agreed to parting with the others.
"Not alone, just without warning," Tristan pointed out.
Arthur saw the dying man's eyes begin to close and shook him, "When did they leave?"
"Last night, before sunset," the man said.
"They would be there by now," Gawain said, not needing to check the sun's position to know.
"You'll never save them. Eviran took almost one hundred, strong. Your friends are as good as dead," the dying thief gloated. Arthur growled and knowing everything he needed snapped the man's neck, ending his life quickly as promised.
"Let's go, there's not much time," Arthur said, mounting his horse once more and turning back the way they had come.
There's no time at all, Tristan thought to himself, but remained silent and pushed on north with the others in hopes of saving those they left behind.
TBC
This chap was a bit longer to make up for the time it took to get out. Next chapter is already half done so I hope it won't be long but things may come up.
I have such fabulous reviewers, best to thank them. Here goes:
Templa Otmena – I know well how it feels to tell yourself you will not get sucked into a new fandom and yet here we all are. I'm glad you're here though, thanks for the nice words of encouragement.
Elventears – You sounded a little desperate for more so I will try to get the next chap out sooner.
PadawanMage – Oh yes, that would have been a funny line J but not quite the right fic for it. I laughed greatly when you brought it up though. Glad you're enjoying the interactions.
AshleyA – I'm such a fan of your work that I love seeing reviews from you. The interactions are definitely fun to write, I agree, even more so than action or angst.
MSF – On it.
Jemiul – Oh I didn't mind your English at all, you're quite easy to understand. Thank you for your kind words, any little thing is appreciated so don't worry about it being long.
Bakachan17 – That's an interesting line to have as your favorite, looking back I enjoy it too. Here's hoping this chapter was as well written. Thanks for the nice words.
Trinity Day – Yes, it's my first year at university, it's quite exciting. Always lovely to talk to another Canadian. The action is coming and then it probably won't stop, so hold on!
Shauna – I know I took a very long time to post this chapter and I hope the wait was okay. Europe sounds so fun, glad you enjoyed it. Your hypothesizing is always interesting and even gives me a few ideas every now and then. Things get pretty crazy from here on in.
Holliday1081 – Oh, you're the only one that mentioned the bit about Lancelot riding ahead, thank you for noticing. It makes the little details worth writing when people see them. You're not the only one to mention that line though, it was quite a favorite.
Flashgriffin – No, the attack must wait for later I'm afraid. That is a cool little karma moment you had between movies like that, interesting. Hope you like the way I took the story, even if you may have done things differently.
Elessar King – LOLOLOL, the new chapter dance, I'll remember that one. The battle will be starting shortly, stick around.
Thanks to everyone, please tell me what you think, I'll write faster, Promise.