Calliann- XD get some sleep! And I agree with your opinion on Dagonett dieing in the movie. Poor Lucan. I think they only did it to make you sad…

Siopao- Everyone loves fluff :P

ElvenStar5- O.O ok! Ok! Haha. Anyway, I'm glad you liked the 'Vejha stuff'. :P

Dw- I'm trying to make it as interesting as possible for you guys…but every now and then when I have to change the script around, I waste about tem minutes planning out the scenes in my head so I know what I'm writing.

Perberaidien- Heheh…don't worry, there will be lots more fluff in the future. :P

Gondorian Archer- Hmm…I haven't thought too deep yet on another good Tristan/Vrena scene. I think I'll make them fight again…maybe some interesting things will happen. –Grins evilly-

SpectralLady- Well, Tristan certainly won't be making out with her while she has a burning fever XD…don't worry, fluff comes later…

Liduina- Thanks! That makes me feel better :D

OP- DUDE XD…don't worry, I've got Dagonett under control. :)

Lininlix- Thanks :D

Yea…I'm doing this now so I can keep reading it over and over until the night is over…'cuz I'm scared to go to bed now xD…my parents made me watch The Grudge with them, and even though I had my eyes closed the whole time…grah…that stupid ladies voice making the 'uuuuuug' noise. Fck…yea, I think I might stay up the rest of the night writing chapter 16 XD…

Story story…

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Chapter 15- Vrena: The –Ailing- Kicker of Scouts.

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Guinevere watched as the Saxons started appearing from behind the mountain of snow. Indeed they did look like disgusting things…torn up matching clothes with mounds of armor, that's all they seemed to be to her. Grip tightening on her bow, she looked at the man in front…bald and looking more important then everyone else. He was probably their chief. But this was not the army they had heard of…this was merely a part of it. It made her wonder how large the real thing was.

She looked over to Vrena, to see that their thoughts were quite the same. The woman was scanning the opposing men with calculating eyes; that, or pin-pointing the drummers so she could remember their faces, should she not kill them fast enough. Guinevere would have laughed, but she did not know if it was the right time too.

To her left, there was Lancelot, who seemed to have cheered up from earlier. He glanced at her once, a devious grin on his face.

"You look frightened." He sighed loudly. "There's a large number of lonely men out there." Guinevere laughed at this comment.

"Don't worry; I won't let them rape you." She joked back. But then silence loomed over all of them as the Saxon army stopped, just in front of the ice. From where they were, they could hear the bald Saxon say something among the lines of "Archer," and another came forward with a bow, firing the arrow in their direction to test the range.

She let loose a breath of relief as the arrow landed on the ice not far from them, skidding across it. If they wanted to attack, they would have to move forward, right onto the ice.

"I believe they're waiting for an invitation. Bors, Tristan." Arthur commanded the two, who raised their bows and aimed.

"We're far out of range. Unless a Sarmatian bow can make an arrow travel as fast as a Woads?" Guinevere affirmed. She knew that her bow could probably manage to hit a man in thefront ranks, as could Vrena's. Hers might actually go further, now that she thought of it. The other woman's bow seemed to be made in an odd style, possibly passed down to her. There was a secret to the Woadish bow making that was always kept hidden, only known by those who constructed them.

Studying Vrena's again, she estimated by its length that it could fire farther then her traditional one.

Arthur sent her a quick smirk as Tristan and Bors released their arrows, which hit two Saxon men with grand accuracy.

She glanced over to Vrena, and Vrena to her, as the two of them raised their bows, commencing in the internal contest of 'whose bow shoots the farthest'. She took note that Vrena's arrows were also longer; and if possible, thinner.

Pulling back the strings as far as they could go, both of them released at the same time. Guinevere watched as a cry pierced the air near the middle of the Saxon ranks -where her bow had pierced someone, and turned to see the dumbfounded looks on the knight's faces as Vrena's projectile shot overtop the heads of nearly all the ranks, piercing the skull of a tall Saxon far in the back.

"Where'd you get that?" Lancelot asked Vrena, who was picking up another one of her arrows from the ice next to her.

"Egyptian war bow given to one of my late grandfathers, Acacia wood, forgot what the string was made of, family heirloom, and I would never let you lay a finger on it." Vrena spoke quickly and plainly. She let loose another arrow that hit one of the Saxons carrying a drum, nearly knocking his body into the man behind him. Guinevere could not resist a laugh at the disappointed look on Lancelot's face.

Suddenly, one of the other Saxon commanders yelled at everyone to move, and the regiment of men began marching across the ice.

'How foolish…they know they are on ice, yet they continue to stomp and make all that racket…' she thought to herself.

The drums had begun to play again as they marched. She heard a growl ease from Vrena's throat as the lady fired another arrow, bringing down a drummer, which quieted the noise down a bit.

"Aim for the wings of the ranks. Make them cluster." Arthur ordered all of them, and at once all six of the knights, along with Vrena and herself, began firing their arrows towards the outer ranks, and the plan began to progress smoothly. The more they fired to the outside, the more width they lost, and more pressure was applied to the ice, which was now cracking quicker then before.

They kept firing until the Saxon chief in front realized their scheme, and began to yell at his men to keep the ranks. The ice still refused to brake, damn it…the bald man started yelling at everyone over and over to hold the ranks, and a few other threats along with them. They were drawing nearer…

Her heart began to pound quicker, and she felt ready for the fight. She watched as Tristan turned towards Vrena, who was about four down from him, giving her a commanding stare.

"Move back." He ordered her, and then turned back to firing arrows at Saxons. She saw from the corner of her eye Vrena glanced his way, and obediently picked up her arrows.

Vrena distanced herself from her old position a good dozen yards, and Guinevere turned quickly to see her aim her bow forward, then raised it high into the air, firing it nearly strait up. It curved over their heads and drifted forward, still managing to hit a Saxon in the back ranks. Guinevere made a mental note to ask again what that bow was made from.

"It's not breaking…Fall back!" Arthur yelled to them. But the Saxons kept advancing forward, andnow the only oneout of range of a Saxon arrow was Vrena, who had just begun to fire two at once. Already, she had taken out more men then any of them. She had known Vrena was skilled with archery, but not this capable! It must have taken her years to master it so.

"Prepare for combat…" Arthur said through clenched teeth as he drew Excalibur. The sound of more sword being ripped from their scabbards filled the air, the clanking of the metal ringing in her ears.

But then a yell distracted her, and she turned to see Dagonett running forward; axe wielded, running right for the Saxons.

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Vrena watched in horror as Dagonett ran forward, too close to the Saxons to be safe, and began throwing all his strength into his large battle axe to break the ice. She listened as a few of the knights called his name, and Arthur yelled for them to cover him. The Saxon chief called for his archers, and she knew that Dagonett was doomed. Her head was pounding.

'No! He was the one who helped me heal and bandaged me when I was injured! If anything, this would now be my time to repay him! He cannot die out there alone!' She yelled to herself frantically. Looking down to her pile of arrows, she saw that she only had a few left out of the many she had already used up.

Then she looked to the other knight's piles, which were heaped by the dozens. She tried to ignore the heat from her forehead.

It was risky, but she had to, or Dagonett was already the walking dead. She remembered all those years ago when she had been taught the art of archery, and her mother's words floated through her head: "It is traditional to shoot one arrow, sometimes two. But I find it sufficient to shoot ten at once, though getting them all to hitch to the string can be a bloody pain…"

Did she dare try and test her mother's blood? There was only one way to find out.

She ran forward back up to the knights, saw Tristan give her a glare, and then quickly turn around to the enemy again. When she reached them, she picked up ten of the arrows Lancelot had discarded and quickly attached the hooks at their ends to the bow string, hurriedly searching for a way to keep them there and fire all of them at once.

Once she had managed to entwine her fingers in different directions to support them, she took a deep breath. Heart racing, she spread them out evenly and twisted the bow sideways like a crossbow, and saw from the corner of her eye everyone give her a baffled look. She prayed hard that no arrow would stray and accidentally hit Dagonett instead of a Saxon marching towards him.

"Brace yourself!" She yelled loudly, releasing all the arrows. It was at that point, she could feel the blood of her mother pulsing through her body, and everything began to feel etherealalmost like a dream. But then it could also just be her headache messing with her mind. She had done it. All ten arrows, save one that missed, had effectively hit many Saxons in the front rank.

She saw some of their archers shoot her a frightened glare as their fellow men fell to the ground in front of them. Tristan shot her another look, but this time he did not seem angry- well, he did, but now he looked more worried. She was in range of them.

She picked up the rest of Lancelot's arrows, which wasonly bloodythree, and fired them quickly before advancing over to Arthur's pile. Speaking of Arthur, he was now next to Dagonett with a shield in front of them, and Gawain had accompanied him. A loud crack came from the ice, but it still did not break. Vrena swore under her breath.

Picking up Arthur's redundant pile of arrows, she now realized that she was standing next to Tristan. He did not speak, only fired his arrows one by one quickly, in an even pattern, aiming for every archer he could spot.

She felt her stomach knot up again, but she tried to ignore it and evened out Arthur's arrows onto her bow; again aiming it as if she was wielding a crossbow, she released them, letting them fly through the air. Two out of ten missed this time, and one barely skimmed the top of a Saxon's head. She began to feel anxious as she reached down for ten or so more, and saw that Tristan did the same.

She felt a mix of jealousy and awe as he not only hooked them quicker then her, but fired them all evenly with better exactness, piercing a good amount of Saxon flesh.

"Effective, but better if you can hitch and draw them faster." He lectured her and went back to firing one arrow at once, back to his emotionless self.Guinevere was now firing two at a time, allowing herself to get in some practice.

"Easy for you to say. If you want the truth, this is the first time I've fired more then three." She said as-a-matter-of-factly, and adjusted the last of Lancelot's arrows to her bow, lifting it again.

But Tristan had no time to shoot her any scornful or disappointed looks, because the joking died quickly when a Saxon arrow hit Dagonett's shoulder, which had not been guarded by Arthur's shield. She watched as Lancelot, who had been with him, pulled out a dagger from his boot and chucked it at the head of a Saxon archer.

"Dag!" Bors yelled, still firing his arrows furiously- along with Galahad, herself, Tristan, and Guinevere, they were indeed taking out many of the Saxons…but the ice had still not broken, and Dagonett was still pounding at the frozen lake with his axe, despite the blood now spilling from his shoulder.

As if on queue, they could hear a loud, ear-penetrating crack...followed by many more, as the ice began to fling up violently. Dagonett was again pierced with another Saxon arrow, this time painfully on the leg where a faulty one had ricocheted off the ice, flying right at him.

"Dag!" Bors shouted again, and this time dropped his bow and ran forward with his shield. In shock, she watched as Dagonett's limp body fell into the hole he had made in front of him, body splashing into the freezing water. Shouts and yells were heard erupting from the Saxons as the ice below them broke, the tipping over in huge chunks.

Arthur ran forward again, reaching into the water with one hand, grabbing Dagonett; and with every fiber in him, yanked the large man out of the ice. Gawain and Bors shielded them as they pulled him back onto the ice.

"Pull back! Arthur!" Galahad yelled, still firing arrows at the Saxons that had escaped the ice. Vrena's head began to pound harder, and she did not hear Tristan tell her that they needed to get back to land. She clutched her hand to her forehead, which was now burning like fire.

Almost instantly she was hit with a lightheaded feeling, along with a cold shock, and her vision blurred. She felt herself sink, but a pair of strong arms caught her and took her bow from her hand before her grip could loosen. She could faintly hear a few shouts from one of the knights as she felt herself being flung over someone's shoulder.

"Dag! Dag, stay with me!" She distinguished Bors' voice, shouting hoarsely at his friends wilted body. 'No…no! He cannot be dead! He is strong, he is still alive!' Vrena yelled to herself, and forced herself out of her woozy state, realizing quickly that the ice had broken under her and she was now drenched in freezing water.

The person who had grabbed her and carried her off the ice was none other then Tristan himself, and her face began to feel hotter then it already was. When he let her go, she felt Guinevere's small hands supporting her, keeping her standing. She felt so…weak…cold…exhausted.

She could hear nothing but silence now. All the Saxons were now under water or retreating. They had won. 'But Dagonett…how is Dagonett?' She forced herself out of Guinevere's hold and hustled over to the other knights, who were around him. 'Damn it, Dagonett is the one who usually heals our wounds. If he's the one wounded, and he's not awake, that puts them in a bad position.' She thought as she looked at the six knights, knowing yet not knowing what to do with the wounded Dagonett.

She knew now that she looked ill and feverish, she could feel it as well. Her bones were shaking and skin still prickling with the freezing liquid; she was indeed sick. But Dagonett needed her help now more then she did. Besides, she was the only one out of all of them who was evena bit skilled with wounds.

Almost knocking over Gawain, she went to bend her knees, but ended up falling on them; Gawain and Galahad to her side quickly grabbed her arms to steady her, but she yanked away from them.

She was taking in short breaths now, and her teeth were chattering. Skin pale from the cold, she quickly wrung her hair with her hands, getting out the wintry water. The knights began to look with worry at her and their injured friend, knowing that she would not listen if they told her to calm herself.

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Vrena looked horrible. Thanks too her fall into the cracked ice, her hair was matted and disheveled. She was so weak; it looked like any minute she would freeze. Her skin was pale, lips blue, teeth chattering, and her eyes looked red- evidence of a fever. Guinevere was worried for the girl's health, but she herself had never tended many wounds. Wounds that Dagonett had a nasty few of, which needed to be tended too. They had no choice.

Vrena's eyes scanned the let and shoulder punctured with the arrows, and began to work. The woman's hands were shaking from the cold as she placed one hand next to the penetrated wound, and pulled out the arrow from Dagonett's leg as quickly as she could.

The hand holding down the leg got some blood on it, but Vrena seemed to be payingno heed to it at the moment. Instead, she spun her head around; which nearly scared Gawain and Galahad to death, for she looked like death itself.

"Cloth. A long

piece." She stuttered, her breath coming quickly in short gasps now. Gawain submissively removed his own cloak, and grabbing the end of it, ripped as hard as he could, tearing it halfway down, then ripped it again to remove it completely. Then he began ripping another for the next wound as she wrapped the cloth around his leg, tying the end tightly.

She extended her hand as the otherswiftly tore out the arrow from Dagonett's shoulder, and as quickly as the cloth was placed into her hand, she wrapped it under the arm and across the shoulder as tight as she could.

"We- need to get h-him to the caravan s-s…so I can find his remedies. H-he will live if we move f-f-fast enough." She nearly choked. Bors quickly picked up his friends body, and Tristan came over to her and wrapped her into his dry cloak, lifting her up into his arms. For once, Vrena was too out of it to feel any kind of nervous emotion. She felt ugly…ugly and ill. Her head was pounding, and she wished for a hot fire…and some nice hot food.

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At first, Vejha thought she was dead…maybe she was in heaven, where the Christians say one goes when they pass on? But surely she was too sinful to go there. But if this was hell, should she not be burning? She could feel nothing; she couldn't even open her eyes. She was numb from head to toe.

She tried to pry her eyes open, but it pained her, so she gave up. She wanted to scream, scream for her sister…wanted her sister to be there to comfort her like she always would. But no. Something inside me snapped, I almost killed her…

Her body began to shake with sobs, and all of a sudden the numbness was gone. Every bone in her body was screaming and bruised. Before she could pass out again…she heard footsteps, and a curious voice.

And then again, everything went black.

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Well…that was an interesting chapter.

Anyways, it was a majority-rules-all vote, Dagonett will live. But damn it, I wasn't supposed to tell you that, was I?…

III Cari III