Title: Forever More
Author: The first color in the rainbow um… pole minus the 'e' plus another 'l' and an 'ard'. Weird. Yes I know.
Author's Note: Chapter 15. Wow. And I was impressed with having ten chapters. I'm watching the Olympics right now. Quite interesting even though I don't really like indoor volleyball. Swimming and gymnastics (men preferably hehe) appeal to me more.
Disclaimer: I don't own King Arthur nor will I ever. But what I do own is my beautiful Kera.
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Chapter 15:†Crossing the Ice†
As the sun rose in the east, shining its warmth upon the cold camp, all was not as well and serene as it should have been. A load roar pretty much woke up everyone from their chilly slumber. The entire band of knights was caught off guard as a small gang of Marius's mercenaries attacked them in their sleep. Dagonet roared to life as five soldiers quickly surrounded him. Attacking them with whatever he had, he lunged to his feet and began pummeling his hands into the nearest object. His teeth were gritted in concentration as he smacked two of the mercenaries together but a haunting laugh made everyone freeze.
On the other side of the camp, Marius stood with a smug look spreading across his face. In his hand he held a dagger which was pressed up dangerously close to Lucan who was imprisoned within Marius's slimy grasp. The boy whimpered as he stretched his neck to try and avoid the knife's blade.
"Kill them!" Marius commanded, his face wrinkling up in something that was supposed to represent a look of triumph.
Suddenly, without any warning, an arrow flew through the air and slammed into Marius's chest. He opened his mouth to yell but no sound came out. His arms fell from around Lucan's neck and with a muffled choke, he fell backwards into the snow. Blood coughed up from his mouth and he fell still. Alecto cried out as his father tumbled into the snow.
The second Marius released Lucan, Dagonet rushed forward and lifted the young boy away from harm's reach. Everyone looked up to see Guinevere notching another arrow to a longbow. Pulling the string back, she held the bow steadily in front of her, pointed at a small cluster of mercenaries.
The rebel soldiers did not seem all that frightened by the girl's skill with the bow but the moment Arthur stepped up behind her, they froze. Arthur had drawn Excalibur and held it loosely by his side, but no one doubted that he could raise it just as fast and attack. Lancelot flanked Guinevere's right side, his twin swords crossed over his shoulders. Smiling encouragingly at the girl, he pulled them over his shoulder and reveled in the sound they made as metal sliced across metal.
The mercenaries immediately dropped their swords and lifted their hands above their heads in submission. Guinevere let loose her arrow, yet this time if thudded into the snow several inches in front of one of the mercenary's feet. He backed up and signaled for the others to follow suit. With that, Guinevere lowered her bow casually to her side.
"Did Marius offer you gold to overpower us?" Arthur said.
The obvious leader of the mercenaries nodded reluctantly.
"Yes. After all," he said, trembling at Arthur's power, "we are mercenaries. He was the one who hired us and he was the one who gave us orders."
Arthur looked distastefully at Marius's corpse before returning a cold glare towards the soldier.
"From now on, you will travel under my command," Arthur said and paused to add, "But if you choose to leave, my knights and I—and Lady Guinevere—will kill you."
The mercenaries nodded and quickly rushed away to their horses. Suddenly, a rustle of the brush brought Arthur out of his fury and back alert. Raising his Excalibur, he pointed it directly at where the noise had come from. Lancelot held his swords in front of him in a defense stance as the other knights drew out their weapons.
Tristran burst from the woods. He was breathless and tied to the back of his horse were two Saxon shields. Arthur lowered his sword to his side and stepped up towards Tristran's dappled stallion.
"They've taken Kera."
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The caravan was once again marching down a slope, going as fast as they could without leaving anyone behind. The Saxons were closing in the distance between them, and Arthur wanted nothing more than just to return back to Hadrian's Wall unharmed and unscathed. The nearly foot deep snow proved difficulty for travel. The youngest of the travelers were made to sit in the carts as their legs would sink all the way in. Even the horses were finicky for they had to pick their feet straight up from the hole their hooves had made before processing forward.
Lancelot was near a state of madness as he kept riding up and down the line of villagers. Finally Tristran stopped him when Lancelot came galloping by. Lancelot swatted Tristran's hand away angrily.
"How did they take her!" he nearly cried out.
Tristran lowered his head. He was every ounce as upset as Lancelot was for it had been his fault she had fallen into the wrong hands.
"They came out of no where, Lancelot. You must understand!" Tristran pleaded. "Seven Saxons, SEVEN, came running from nowhere and began attacking us. I killed off three of them but they took her and Nonpareil while my back was turned. Why they wanted her I do not know. She put up a good fight, Lancelot. She yelled and kicked as hard as she could but she was still weak."
"Is she still alive?" Lancelot asked.
"I don't know," Tristran whispered. "Knowing the Saxon's, most likely not."
Lancelot tried to mask the abhorrence he was feeling but he couldn't. Tristran turned away in humility and dejection when he saw his friend's reaction.
Arthur had been riding alongside a coach, which held Alecto and Fulcinia. After several minutes of hushed talk, Arthur wheeled his horse away. His face held an expression of horror.
"They killed Pelagius…" he kept whispering to himself.
Tristran rode up to Arthur to talk about there whereabouts and what they would do next.
"Once we have crossed this last section of the Mountains of Mourne, we will encounter a vast lake."
Before Arthur or anyone else could interrupt he continued.
"By the looks of it, it was frozen solid and should prove no difficulty to cross."
Arthur nodded, if not a bit uncertainly. Turning around, he faced Galahad.
"Tell the villagers that we must cross this lake as soon as possible. Double the pace. Now."
Galahad nodded his approval and rode off to inform the villagers.
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After hearing the news, the villagers began walking a bit faster. Across the lake was an array of smaller trails that lead out past the valley and finally to Hadrian's Wall. If home was this close, then working a bit harder would pay off in the long run. Once the long descent leveled off, they were faced with a long spread of frozen ground. Arthur and his knights dismounted and lead their horses onto the ice, each of their steps carefully estimated. The coating of snow on the lake was much thinner and when Arthur scraped it aside with his boot he could see the thin hairline cracks that skirted the entire breadth of the ice. Taking another step, the ice beneath his feet groaned and he froze in his place.
When nothing happened, he motioned for the rest of the villagers and caravan to follow. When the entire lot of people reached the middle of the lake, Arthur signaled them to stop.
"Ganis!" Arthur called out.
The boy scrambled madly from where he had been waiting, slipping along the ice before stopping eagerly behind Arthur.
"You will lead the caravan south, " Arthur said to Ganis's quiet dismay. "The main Saxon army is inland. If you track the coastline until you are well south of the wall, you will be safe."
Ganis opened his mouth to protest but closed it on second thought. Disappointed slightly, Ganis nodded and began to herd the crowd of people towards the land on the other side of the lake.
As the coach slowly began to wobble its way across the lake, Alecto hopped out. Fulcinia reached out a hand to stop him but he was too quick.
"I am able," Alecto said sternly. "I can fight."
Arthur smiled at the young man's enthusiasm but shook his head.
"You are a brave man," he said. "But you have a more important duty. The most important thing. You must get back to Rome."
Alecto looked up to see if Arthur would change his mind, but he didn't. Without sighing or complaining, he turned away and stepped back into the carriage to join his mother.
"But you are just seven against an entire army!" Jols spoke up suddenly.
"Eight," Guinevere added, climbing down from the carriage.
She picked up a Sarmatian bow and tested the string. Arthur smiled at her.
As the caravan began to disappear across the ice, Lucan peaked his head out from the wagon and waved wistfully towards Dagonet. Dagonet lifted his hand in acknowledgement before suddenly busying himself with his weapons. The eight of them began to prepare for battle, getting swords and bows ready.
"I've always hated turning my back to them," Tristran said.
"Then I guess its time to turn around and fight," Gawain said.
As they formed an even line parallel to the valley they had just came from, Jols unraveled quivers of arrows and placed them down beside each person. Guinevere notched an arrow into her bow while Lancelot, off to her side, did the same thing.
Suddenly silence fell over them and the only sound that was heard was the growing sound of the Saxon drums. Marching grew louder as finally a mass of Saxons began to appear around the bend from all the way across the lake. At their head was a tall lanky young man with a shaved head and a braided blond beard. To his side was a shorter and squatter man whose eyes darted fearfully back and forth. Cynric and Andrew.
The small group of Sarmatian knights did not seem to prove to be much of a problem for Cynric's infantry for after all, they had gotten what they wanted. Drawing an emotionless look to his face, Cynric elbowed men out of his way.
"Hold until I give you the command," Arthur said.
"You look worried," Lancelot said teasingly towards Guinevere. "There is a great number of very lonely men out there."
Guinevere pursed her lips and looked forward.
"Don't worry," she said. "I won't let them rape you."
Suddenly, something caught Lancelot's eye that made him forget how Guinevere had just out-smarted him. Made him forget practically everything. From across the ice, he saw Cynric shove a small individual forward. It stumbled forward, its hands searching for something around its neck before falling down onto the ice.
It was Kera.
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Kera felt a foot plant itself in the small of her back. Gasping, she tripped forward. Her whole body felt as if it were on fire. Her vision was blurred and it became increasingly difficult to see where she was going with each step she took. They had tortured her in the short hours they kept her. She remember the previous night, she had just been riding alongside Tristran, enjoying the scenery. And then the next moment, she was screaming at the top of her lungs, trying to fight off the Saxon hands that dragged her off Nonpareil. A quick blow to her head had made her crumple into a pile.
When she had woken up, she was surrounded by vicious looking men all dressed in furs and leather. Thick reddish beads masked most of their faces. She had seen her uncle come up to her, his ugly face leering into hers. She tried to stand up, and barely managed to with her throbbing head. When she finally found her footing, all she could do at that moment was spit in his face. He had angrily wiped his eyes and brought his hand across her cheek.
Times seemed to slow as his hand rose into the air. It felt like she was in a movie as his palm finally came into impact with her cheek. Her head was whipped to the side as she then found herself sprawled out on the ground. There was a moment of silence before Andrew had fallen to his knees and was grappling at the neck of her dress.
"Get off of me!" she had yelled, scraping her fingernails against his face. "Get the HELL OFF OF ME!"
But his intention was not what she thought. His sweaty palm finally found what he was looking for and he wrenched his hand away. Triumphant he called Cynric over.
"Cynric!" Andrew yelled.
Cynric came over to see what the commotion was and when he spotted what was in Andrew had he stopped. Clutched in Andrew's hand was a small pendant of a black horse. It was rearing up on its hind legs with intricate carvings curling around on the flat back. Dangling the chain around his finger, Andrew smiled greedily.
"It's the necklace…" he said his voice in a hoarse whisper. "It's the NECKLACE!"
Cynric snatched it from Andrew's hand and pocketed it.
"My father will want it. After all, it does hold the answer to whatever he has been searching for."
Andrew laughed.
"Don't you know?" Andrew said. "Have you learned nothing?"
Cynric looked confused to Andrew's disgust.
"When listening to your father, I learned," he said, "that that necklace you hold is the very key to finding out the secret in how to bring down the Christian church!"
Cynric merely tilted his head to one side, admiring the way the sun glinted off the black onyx. Clearly he did not understand.
"Stupid!" Andrew said, his voice rising with excitement. "Whoever can figure out this secret will be capable of destroying everything Rome has ever believed in. Making the beholder the ruler of Rome!"
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Author's note: So sorry but I really needed to use this. The word slam just produces a wonderful effect for this moment. Sorry again!
This was a strange chapter. Not one of my best. I'm not even sure what the big 'secret' should be. Must thinkkkk.