Hi everyone, Happy Christmas! Ok, I know I mentioned being able to post regularly..for the most part..but I won't be updating again until after Wednesday since we're going to see relatives for the holiday. Exciting eh? Anyway, I'll hopefully get some writing done and bring it back to you all. I also want to mention, this is kind of silly, but I have "theme songs" for my stories, things that really inspire me to write. Hero had Spin by Lifehouse and Thief by Third Day. This one has two more songs by the same bands haha, Breathing by Lifehouse and Show Me Your Glory by Third Day. As if you needed to know that, lol, but I thought I'd mention it. Anyway, typed long enough, here's the chapter, enjoy.
Chapter 2 – Mythical Danger
The sun had just passed its peak and was starting its long decent down the other side of the sky until it finally set behind the hills. It was a clear day, there were hardly any clouds. Birds sang in the trees, and the forest was very green. Finally spring after a long cold winter. Hadrian tossed his head, happy to be outside, as was Arthur. Besides them, Conquest trotted along, his head held high. Lancelot patted the dark horse's neck, "Are you ready to go faster, my friend?" The horse knickered in response and Lancelot smirked at Arthur in a challenge as he nudge his horse forward through the forest.
"Come on Hadrian," Arthur grinned, "We can't let those two show us up like that can we!" Hadrian's powerful neck arched and he launched off of the ground into a gallop, slowly gaining on Lancelot and Conquest. The knight led them over a fallen tree trunk, both horses jumped over it easily.
The horses understood their riders just as Arthur and Lancelot understood their animals. A simple touch or small noise with the tongue was signal enough, and the horse knew what they meant. Racing through the forest, they became one with the horses. For Arthur it was a feeling he loved. Hadrian loved it too, it was what he was born to do; born to run. Everything else seemed to wash away, all that was there was Arthur and Hadrian, Lancelot and Conquest. Arthur never wanted it to end.
When it did, the world rushed back in; in more ways than one. They slowed down, letting the horses walk, it wouldn't take them long to catch their breath. Lancelot sighed and was about to say something when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. His hands tensed, one of them leaving the reins in case he needed to grab one of his swords. Without saying anything, Arthur noticed the motion, his grey eyes quickly scanning around them. Hadrian snorted beneath him, he could feel the horse's heart beating through the saddle.
There was nothing there. Arthur and Lancelot glanced at each other when a shadow moved in front of them. Conquest squealed in surprise and both men went for their weapons. It moved again, to Arthur's right. Suddenly, an arrow shot out from the trees, no archer ever seen. Lancelot saw it first. "Arthur!" he shouted in warning, pushing his captain forward to avoid the arrow, but he himself was not fast enough and the projectile embedded itself in the younger knight's shoulder.
Grabbing Lancelot with one hand, his sword in the other, Arthur kicked Hadrian. More arrows came flying their way and the horse knew better than to stay there, Conquest running right beside him. The run was no longer for pleasure as it had been earlier, but now for life. Hadrian pushed himself harder, he had the power to do so, as did Conquest. The shadow followed them, Arthur could feel it behind him.
Neither horse slowed down as they entered the fort, causing people to jump out of their way. As soon as they did stop, Lancelot nearly fell but Arthur caught him first. Dagonet was the first their to meet them. "What happened?" he asked urgently, helping Lancelot down.
"We were attacked, out in the forest," Arthur jumped off of Hadrian, pulling Lancelot's arm around his shoulders, "Find Tristan."
Dagonet nodded and went off quickly as Arthur lead his wounded friend to his room. In the distance, the sun was setting.
"Here, lay down, gently."
"Ow, gods Arthur, stop touching it!"
A worried smile crossed Arthur face, "It'll have to come out anyway."
"Yes, until then…don't touch it…" Lancelot closed his eyes. His face was already pale, his dark eyes looking even darker in contrast.
The door opened, Arthur looked up. Tristan and Dagonet entered, Galahad looking in from the doorway, concerned. Sitting down on the bed, opposite Arthur, on Lancelot's other side, Tristan asked no questions. His skilled eyes looked at the wound. After a moment, Tristan nodded, "Yeah, we better take it out now, if the head breaks off, it'll be easier when it's fresh."
Even Dagonet cringed at the thought of the arrow head breaking off, it wasn't pleasant to try to remove it. One of Arthur's large hands brushed Lancelot's face. "Are you ready?" he asked the knight, who nodded mutely, biting his lip.
It took all of them to hold him down as Tristan removed the arrow. Blood welled up in the open hole and Lancelot gasped for breath, sweat forming on his face. Dagonet quickly held a wad of bandages over it, trying to stop the bleeding. But Arthur sat there, on the bed next to his friend, one hand holding Lancelot's and his other laid gently on the knight's forehead.
Tristan held the arrow up to the candle that lit the dark room. He ran his finger down the wooden shaft and then carefully touched the point. His brow creased, Tristan looked at his fingers in the light and then brought one up to his mouth, tasting. With a sour expression, he spat it out and then sighed. "Poison," he announced, turning back to the others.
Arthur's heart dropped and he closed his eyes, as if trying to reverse it, that it never happened. "Wonderful…" Lancelot muttered, drawing his attention back. The knight shivered, "I just can't go anywhere with you without something happening, can I."
Smiling as much has he could muster, Arthur nodded, "It'll be all right, I promise."
Dagonet stopped bandaging Lancelot's shoulder and both he and Tristan looked up at their captain, then quickly went back to what they were doing.
Arthur never left his friend's side, not for the whole next day. It was late that night that Lancelot's condition worsened. Fever had set in, the young knight tossed and turned in his sleep, calling out or trying to fight imagines in his mind. Neither Arthur nor Dagonet slept that night. In the morning, when Lancelot had calmed again, Dagonet left to go get some much needed sleep, but Arthur didn't.
The large knight rubbed his shaved head, walking down the hallway back to his quarters. "Dagonet!" a voice came from behind. He turned around to see Galahad trotting over to him, his face clearly worried. "How is uh..how is Lancelot?" he asked, a bit hesitant.
Dag sighed, shaking his head, "Not well. Tristan and the healer are working with all the herbs they can find, so far nothing helps."
"But surely…" Galahad trailed off.
"We won't give up hope, Galahad," Dag reassured him and patted his shoulder, heading back down the hallway.
Galahad looked down at the floor and ran one hand through his loose curls. Walking back, he stopped again at the doorway of Lancelot's room and looked inside. The blankets were drawn up to Lancelot's chin, but the man still shivered slightly. He looked pale, dark circles were forming under his eyes. A single bead of sweat dripped down the side of his face.
In a chair next to the bed was Arthur, slouched rather unceremoniously, with his head resting against the wooden back of the chair; asleep. One of his hands gripped Lancelot's, the other hung loosely over the side of the chair.
His worried look increasing, Galahad left the doorway. He prayed to any god he could think of to spare his brother in arms, not just for himself and the others, but just as much for Arthur.
Laughter filled the air. "You cannot win, Arthur Castus, he will die in your very arms."
"No!" Arthur shouted back at the taunting darkness, "I won't let him!"
"Do you take his place?"
Taking a deep breath, his mind was clear, "I do."
"Good," it laughed. The dragon appeared, Lancelot held captive in one claw, unconscious. It grinned fiercely at him, showing a set of ragged and pointy teeth. "Then save him, Castus. Fight me and save him."
Arthur found that his legs would not move, nor would his arms. He was powerless. The image of the dragon before him faded into nothing.
Arthur awoke suddenly from his dream. His grey eyes drifted to the sleeping face of Lancelot. The dream had changed. The arrow…it was connected. He knew now what he needed to do.