Disclaimer: blah, blah, blah…tired of writing these…see previous chapters.
A/N: For anyone who cares, I've started updating my URL, so if you'd like to know what sort of progress I'm making on a chapter at any given time, a note will be there to let you know. Oh, and Camreyn—I went back and reread Chapter 10, and I understand now why you got confused about Dagonet there at the end…a serious typo that I missed. I've gone back and fixed the typo, so it should clear things up a bit.
Chapter 11: A Sense of Foreboding
Dayn lay awake that night, holding Orainne tightly to him. She could have been killed today, he thought, his eyes burning with hatred. After riding all day with the knights watching him intently for signs of murderous intent, he was finally free of their watchful eyes. It would be so easy, he mused, his hand itching to pull his dagger free from the scabbard that rested at his side. So easy to bury the hilt in the back of that unsuspecting bastard that hurt Orainne. Tomorrow would be too late, because they would be on the last leg of their journey, and once they reached the wall, his chance would be lost. He still seethed with rage, angry at Arthur for letting the mercenaries live after they had attacked not only Orainne, but Dagonet as well. They can't be trusted, and Arthur's a fool for letting them live.
With a gentle nudge, he woke Orainne, and bent his head to whisper in her ear.
"Show me which one hurt you," he commanded softly. With a silent nod, she sat up carefully, looking intently at the mercenaries who slept nearby. After a moment of study, she pointed at the man who had hit her, meeting Dayn's eyes steadily. His eyes narrowed and he cautiously climbed to his feet. He looked around intently, listening to make sure that whichever knights were on watch were far enough outside the camp's perimeter that they remained unaware of him. Satisfied, he began to creep past the still forms of the knights and the numerous peasants that slumbered around them.
"Dayn." Dayn froze at the sound of the voice, wincing. Shit. He turned to face Tristan, who watched him with an intense gaze.
"Tristan, I…" Dayn began, struggling to come up with a legitimate excuse. Make it good, Dayn—he'd never been able to effectively lie to Tristan.
"His armor isn't secure on the left side," Tristan said, cutting him off. "Aim for the ribs, and thrust deep." With that, Tristan rolled over, turning his back on Dayn resolutely. With a mischievous smile, Dayn shifted his grip on the dagger in his hand and moved purposefully toward the doomed mercenary. He'd have to move quickly to keep the mercenary from alerting the others.
In the blink of an eye, Dayn came up behind the Roman and grabbed him from behind, putting a firm hand over his mouth to prevent him from calling out for help. I could cut his throat and end it now, but that would be too easy, Dayn thought as he recalled the nasty bruise on Orainne's forehead and his fear upon seeing her lying motionless on the ground. No, a quick death would be too good for this Roman cur.
"No one hurts my woman," he said coldly, and with a quick jerk, he thrust it upward into the weak point in the man's armor. It slid in easily, and Dayn felt the hot spurt of blood on his hand as the dagger tore through the mercenary's side. Tristan was right, he thought with a flash of admiration. Sly bastard, I just don't know how he does it.
Dayn held tightly to the struggling mercenary until his movements finally stilled and the life had drained from him. Now, to get rid of him…Bending over at the waist, he boosted the body onto his back, careful not to let the blood stain his clothing. No, it wouldn't do to give myself away now, would it? Besides, I can't give Arthur any reason to suspect me. Not that Arthur won't already suspect me, but the least I can do is not incriminate myself. Wincing at the weight of the body, he slowly made his way into the trees, ever on the lookout for any passing knights on watch. He had no idea which knights were on watch at this point, but he didn't want to find out the hard way. If it were Caderyn, it wouldn't necessarily be a problem, because Caderyn really didn't give a damn if Dayn killed one Roman or twenty. But someone like Galahad…yeah, Galahad would give me up in a heartbeat. He's too much of a bleeding-heart for the life we lead. In all honesty, Dayn felt sorry for Galahad. It was much easier to be a stone-cold killer, because there was nothing to feel bad about later. He shared that belief with Tristan, he knew, but not many others. Maybe Lancelot. But Dayn and Lancelot weren't ones for deep discussions on their personal philosophies on killing, so Dayn couldn't know for sure. Dayn was helped by the fact that he couldn't actually recall most of the people he'd killed over the years. It was hard to mourn your actions when you couldn't remember them.
He was back well before dawn, sliding back into his bedroll where Orainne slept soundly. He snuggled up against her, and pulled her back into his arms. She came willingly, turning so that she faced him. With a sleepy smile, she kissed him, a kiss that he gladly returned. She was asleep again even before he pulled back, and he smiled, loving her all the more. Content, he held her close and shut his eyes, gladly succumbing to sleep.
Tristan heard Dayn come back, and he nodded to himself, knowing that Dayn had taken care of it. With Niamh nestled against him, he could, for the first time, understand the fierce need to defend one's woman. Dayn had a right, or rather, an obligation, to kill the mercenary for hurting Orainne. Tristan had lived most of his life without the softer emotions, so he didn't know much about love. But, if love was killing to protect someone else, then Tristan imagined he knew a great deal about that. At times, Tristan felt a dark loneliness well up inside him, and despair ate at him as he imagined himself being forever cut off from the rest of humanity. But now…now Niamh was here, and perhaps he had a chance after all.
The next morning, Arthur fought the temptation to curse as he realized that the caravan was minus one mercenary. Dayn. Why didn't I have him watched? I know Dayn—I should have known he'd try something the moment an opportunity presented itself, and I practically handed him one. Glancing around, he saw no trace of the missing Roman, and he clenched his jaw tightly. What did he do with the body? The only remaining trace of the mercenary was his empty bedroll and the dark pool of blood that marked where he'd lain. There wasn't even a trail of blood leading away, nor were there any footsteps.
"Dayn!" he called, feeling his head beginning to pound as stress mounted.
"What?" Dayn asked, arriving a moment later rubbing his eyes in an attempt to wake up.
"Where is he?"
"Where's who?" he asked with his face the picture of innocence.
"Don't play the innocent with me, Dayn," Arthur said, feeling his anger mount at Dayn's nonchalant attitude. "When we camped for the night, there were three mercenaries here. Now there are but two, and I want to know what you've done with him." Hearing Arthur's tone, the other knights gathered around, curious to find out what had happened.
"Oh, so a mercenary goes missing, and you automatically assume that I had something to do with it," Dayn replied with a wounded look.
"Did anyone see anything last night that would explain the absence of the third mercenary?" Arthur asked, looking around at each of the knights standing around them.
Gawain and Galahad had been on watch the previous night, and both confirmed that they'd neither seen nor heard a thing. "Tristan?" Arthur asked, looking to the ever attentive scout. Tristan looked at Dayn, and Dayn held his breath, not certain what Tristan's response would be. He covered for me last night, but I've never known him to lie to Arthur…
"The mercenary left through the trees in the night." Dayn barely kept his jaw from dropping as the lie fell from Tristan's lips. Damn that man can lie, he thought, awed at Tristan's ability to lie with his gaze never once wavering. And Arthur accepted Tristan's explanation without question.
"Very well. Dayn, I apologize. I was wrong to suspect you prematurely." Dayn nodded, and watched Arthur walk away. The other knights broke up as well, returning to their tasks, and Dayn turned to Tristan.
"How come?" Dayn said simply, his eyes questioning.
"He deserved it," Tristan answered shortly. Turning his back, he walked back to where Niamh was rolling the bedroll up, taking it from her to secure it to his saddle. "Oh, and Dayn?"
"Yes?"
"In the future, it is best not to hide a body near water." Dayn's eyes widened in surprise.
"How did you know I hid the--" Dayn started, but Tristan gave him a look that stopped him. Of course, my mistake, because of course Tristan knew where I hid the body. Because Tristan sees everything. Shaking his head, Dayn went to help Orainne mount his horse.
"Is everything alright, Dayn?"
"Yes, for the time being." Now, if we can just manage to outrun the Saxons that are trailing us.
Tristan left Niamh in the care of Aldric, and rode ahead as Arthur requested. The lake was ahead, he knew, and there was no avoiding it. The other knights had been told, and while no one had spoken, there were some obvious misgivings about the wisdom of crossing a lake with an entire caravan of peasants, horses, and the other livestock that the peasants had thought to bring along.
Lancelot rode alongside Arthur, mulling over a number of troubling thoughts. Arthur glanced over, just in time to see Lancelot glaring in the direction of the wagon before he turned forward once more. Gawain caught Arthur's eye from behind them and looked questioningly towards Lancelot, as though to say "What's with him?" Arthur shook his head before turning back to look at Lancelot once more. He debated with himself for a long moment, uncertain whether he should bring it up or not, but he finally realized that unless he did, Lancelot would not speak of it.
"Why do you stare at her so?" Lancelot started at Arthur's soft-spoken question, caught off guard by the sound of Arthur's voice intruding on his thoughts.
"What are you talking about?" he asked, scowling at the interruption.
"Guenevere. We've all noticed how you watch her." There was no accusation or recrimination in his voice, just a mild curiosity at Lancelot's seeming interest in the Woad.
"I don't trust her, Arthur," Lancelot said, lowering his voice. His eyes narrowed in suspicion, and he shook his head. "We should have left her behind and let her own people take care of her."
"You would have left her to face the Saxons?"
"Yes! Dayn's girl is bad enough, but at least we have him to vouch for her. Guenevere comes with no such guarantee."
"I see," Arthur said calmly, his disappointment clear.
"No! You don't see!" Lancelot exclaimed. His sudden outburst was followed by silence, his mind in turmoil as Arthur looked on.
"Lancelot, what's wrong?" Arthur asked, seeing the uncertainty and doubt on Lancelot's face, an unusual occurrence. Lancelot was always so confident that Arthur sometimes forgot that he had doubts and fears just like any man.
"Nothing's clear anymore," Lancelot said after a moment. "Everything was so simple before. We rode out, killed Woads, and returned to the Wall for our next mission. Now…now, I can't tell who the enemy is anymore." He looked ahead, staring blankly at nothing before he looked at Arthur with a helpless shrug.
"The world is not a simple place, Lancelot," Arthur said gently. "But what else can we do but go on?"
"Yes. The world is amoral and uncaring, and we must go on," Lancelot replied with a sarcastic tone. "But I still don't trust her," he finished. He turned his horse, no longer wishing to discuss his misgivings with his friend. Arthur watched him go, feeling pity for his friend. How well he knew that Lancelot was no scholar or philosopher, but a warrior who just wanted things to continue as they were. Would that the world worked that way.
"I hope Tristan knows what he's doing," Cei said to Gawain as they rode closer and closer to the frozen lake.
"Well, of course he does, Cei," Gawain said confidently. "He's never been wrong before about these things."
"Yes, but it's never too late for a first time," Cei mumbled.
"Are you worrying again, Cei?" Caderyn said, ribbing his friend in a good-natured way. "Honestly, Cei, you're starting to sound like an old woman," he said with a laugh.
"We're so close to our freedom, and yet it could all end in a heartbeat if the lake doesn't hold," Cei said angrily, not taking kindly to Caderyn's teasing. "So excuse me if I have a few misgivings about crossing a lake that could kill us all!"
"Aw, Cei, Caderyn didn't mean anything by it," Gawain said, trying to soothe the hurt feelings. Cei was sensitive in a way that was a bit odd for a knight, and it wouldn't do to have him upset with Caderyn. But Cei was having none of it, and he spurred his horse, riding ahead to catch up with Lancelot. Gawain turned to Caderyn with a reproachful look.
"Caderyn, you just couldn't help yourself, could you?"
"Ah, Gawain, come on, I was just teasing."
"You know he's been worried—you've only made it worse," he admonished. "If it was Bors or Lancelot, you know I wouldn't say anything, but Cei…he's never taken well to being teased—you know that!"
"Alright, alright, I'll talk to him," Caderyn said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "When did you become a mother-hen?" Shaking his head, he spurred his horse and went after Cei, leaving Gawain to shake his head ruefully.
"Gods, he's right," Gawain murmured to himself in disgust. "That's Aldric's job, not mine."
"Gawain, what are you mumbling about?" Galahad asked from behind him, a curious look on his face.
"Nothing, Galahad. Nothing at all."
A sense of foreboding came over Orainne, and the farther they traveled, the worse it became. As the air took on a more menacing overtone, Orainne began to shiver as she recalled her latest dream. She hadn't told Dayn, for she knew he would not believe her. If I told him, he would only laugh it away and say it was nothing more than a dream. He hasn't the faith to believe in dreams," she thought. If only he would believe…
"Are you cold?" Dayn asked, feeling her tremble in his arms as they rode.
"No," she murmured.
"Then what is it?"
"Something bad is going to happen, Dayn. I just know it."
"You sound like Cei," he said with a gentle squeeze. With a sigh, she pushed his arms away from her, upset that he didn't take her fears seriously.
"Whether you believe me or not, it's going to happen, Dayn. Let me down, please." Knowing her tone brooked no room for argument, he stopped his horse and helped her slide off. With a look, she gazed up at him with pity on her face.
"I fear you're going to see before the end." She turned and walked away, not wanting Dayn to see the tears in her eyes. Morrigán, please don't let my dream come true," she pleaded, praying to the goddess of prophecy and divination. Please…let it be as Dayn said—nothing more than a dream. Even as she prayed, she had a terrible feeling that it was not to be so.
"Is there any other way?" Arthur asked, looking at the wide expanse of frozen water in their path.
"No. We have to cross the ice," Tristan said, never one to mince words.
"Get them all out of carriages. Tell them to spread out," Arthur said, resigned to the fact that they had no other choice. Dismounting, the knights began to spread out, letting the peasants follow their lead. The ice creaked beneath them, and Dayn looked hesitantly at Tristan, his eyes asking a silent question. Will the ice hold? With a nod, Tristan reassured him, and Dayn let his worry fade. If Tristan said it was safe, then it was safe.
Orainne walked alongside him, holding his hand, trusting that they were taking the right path. The rest of the caravan trailed behind them, waiting for the knights to determine that the lake was safely frozen. Seeing that the lake held, the caravan slowly began to make its way across, going ever so cautiously, ready to stop at the slightest hint that the ice may be breaking. Horses shied nervously at the groaning of the ice beneath their hooves, and knights and serfs alike struggled a bit to calm them.
They weren't even halfway across when a menacing drumbeat began to reverberate across the lake. The knights froze, looking at one another, then at Arthur, wondering what they were to do. Behind them, the peasants stopped as well, knowing that something was wrong, murmuring to one another in frightened tones.
"Well, I'm tired of running," Bors said. "And these Saxons are so close behind, my ass is hurting."
"Never liked looking over my shoulder anyway," Tristan said calmly, looking at Arthur with a steady gaze.
"It'll be a pleasure to put an end to this racket," Gawain added.
"We'll finally get a look at the bastards," Galahad said with bravado, trying to hide his worry.
Dagonet moved to remove his axe from its customary place on his saddle, ready to do whatever needed to be done.
"Here. Now," he said calmly, with a firm nod.
"I'm always up for a battle, you know that. If not Romans, then Saxons will do," Dayn said with a mischievous smile.
"Jols." Without a word, Jols responded to Arthur's unspoken command, turning to the serfs who stood hesitantly behind them.
"You two, take the horses," Jols ordered, moving towards the supply wagon that held many of the knights' extra weaponry.
The knights moved to unload any weapons they carried on their saddles, preparing to face what was sure to be overwhelming odds.
"Ganis, I need you to lead the people," Arthur said, turning to the serf who followed behind eagerly. "The main Saxon army is inland so if you track the coastline until you're well south of the wall, you'll be safe."
"You're eleven against two hundred!" Ganis exclaimed, looking at Arthur in alarm.
"Twelve. You could use another bow," Guenevere said smartly. She brushed past them with a raise of her eyebrow, as though daring Arthur to argue.
"I'd rather stay and fight," Ganis said, frowning as he and Arthur watched Guenevere collect a bow from Jols at the supply wagon.
"You'll get your chance soon enough," Arthur told him. He turned to the remaining mercenaries, staring at each of them sternly. "This man is now your captain. You do as he says, am I understood?"
"Yes sir," one of them answered, speaking for himself as well as his comrades.
"Wait, you're just going to trust them to do as you say?" Dayn broke in angrily. "What's to stop them from killing these people as soon as they're out of sight?"
"Dayn, I'm not going to argue the point with you. Now, go."
Dayn responded with an angry look before walking back to Orainne who stood with his horse, the reins held loosely in her hands.
"Dayn, what's happening?"
"We stay and fight. You're to go ahead of us with the caravan. We'll hold them off, give the rest of you time to get to the Wall. You'll be safe there."
"No, Dayn," she cried, shaking her head. "I will stay here with you."
"You can't. You must go, Orainne. If you stayed, and something happened to you…I couldn't bear it. Do you hear me? I'd die if anything were to happen to you," he said, gripping her by the shoulders as he struggled to convince her of his sincerity. Staring into his eyes, Orainne knew she would have to leave him behind, and the thought tore through her. She hugged him to her, clinging to him desperately as tears welled up in her eyes.
"Dayn, please don't stay! Come with me," she cried, trying frantically to change his mind. Anything to keep him with her.
"Love, I can't go with you. I have to stay and fight. To make sure you make it safely back. Besides, I can't leave them to face the Saxons alone," he said, looking back at the knights who were preparing themselves for combat. "They're my brothers, Orainne. We're held together by ties of blood and brotherhood, and I won't--I can't--leave them to fight without me."
Knowing that Dayn wouldn't be swayed, she grabbed him around the waist, holding on to him as though she could hold onto him forever. He cupped his hands around her head, kissing her deeply, wishing it didn't have to end. But reality intruded, as it so often did, and he finally pulled back, resting his chin on the crown of her head. She clung to him, wanting the moment to last, but knowing it was futile.
"Arthur ordered the mercenaries to go with the caravan, under Ganis' command," he murmured. Slipping the dagger out of the scabbard at his waist, he thrust it into her hand. "Be on your guard, for I trust them not." He held her for a moment longer, wishing he could reassure her more, but knowing that it was wrong to give her false hope. Finally, with a kiss to her forehead, he stepped back, his hand caressing her cheek. "Go with the others, Orainne. I need to know that you're safe."
Orainne watched him join the others, tears rolling down her face. Niamh walked up beside her, putting her arm around her.
"I know how you feel," she said softly, eyeing Tristan with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. He had said nothing to her, only passing the reins of his horse to her with a resolute nod. She had expected nothing less, for Tristan was a man of few words, and when it came to his feelings, he was a man of even fewer words.
"I fear I won't see him again," Orainne said, crying softly into Niamh's shoulder.
"We must not give up on our men, Orainne," Niamh said, hugging her. "Besides, you said it yourself—the goddess watches over Dayn. Think you she would let something happen to him?"
"I suppose not," Orainne said quietly, wiping her eyes.
"Come, let us leave them to their duty, and pray the gods watch over them."
Dayn watched Niamh lead Orainne away before he turned his full attention to the battle to come. I hope you're watching, Nemhain, because this one has all the looks of being one hell of a battle, he thought as the knights and Guenevere began to line up, preparing to make their stand.
He looked at Caderyn on his left and Bors on his right, his brothers in arms. With a grin, he turned to Caderyn.
"How about a friendly wager, Cade? Whoever kills the most Saxons pays the winner a month's wages." With a gleam in his eye, Caderyn nodded, always agreeable to wager.
A deep silence permeated, with no other sound but the wind whistling through the trees and the ominous sound of the Saxon drums. Each of the knights faced forward, ready to face their pursuers, ready to end it. And finally, the Saxons were before them, and the time had come.
"Hold until I give the command," Arthur said firmly…
A Saxon archer stepped forward, launching an arrow through the air, trying to gauge the distance between their army and the knights. Dayn smirked as the arrow hit the ice and slowly slid to a stop.
"I believe they're waiting for an invitation," Arthur said. "Bors, Tristan."
"We're far out of range," Guenevere said, looking at Arthur in disbelief. Arthur watched as Bors and Tristan raised their bows and released their arrows into the unwary Saxons.
The Saxons began to scramble forward, and the knights brought up their bows, preparing to fire on Arthur's command.
"Aim for the wings of the ranks. Make them cluster," Arthur called out. If we can force them to move to the center, then, God willing perhaps the lake can defeat our enemy for us. A deadly volley of arrows rained from the sky on the Saxon army, and Dayn smiled in satisfaction as the Saxons began to fall.
They failed to notice the Saxon archer who managed to shoot off an arrow with the range necessary to reach them.
As Dayn grabbed his sword, a choking sound caught his attention and he turned to see Cei drop his bow, a stunned expression on his face. To Dayn's horror, an arrow protruded from Cei's chest and blood was beginning to trickle from his mouth.
"Cei!" Dropping his sword, Dayn caught Cei as he began to fall, cradling him to his chest as he lowered him to the ground. "No!" Dayn cried, not knowing what to do as he watched the life spilling out of Cei onto the cold ice.
"I was so close," Cei gasped. "My freedom was finally within my grasp…" He struggled to speak, trying to breath past the blood that was welling up in his mouth.
"Don't say that, Cei! Your freedom awaits you still, Cei, please!" Dayn pleaded, tightening his hold on Cei, trying to will strength into Cei's rapidly failing body. But it was to no avail. With a final gasp, Cei was still at last, and Dayn stared in stunned dismay, a look of confusion on his face. The battle raged around him, but Dayn was oblivious, trapped in grief.
"It's not going to crack. Fall back. Fall back!" Arthur yelled, dropping his bow. "Prepare for combat!" But the Saxons kept marching, and Arthur realized with a sinking feeling that the ice was holding firm.
"Dayn! Dayn?" Caderyn yelled, turning to see why Dayn was no longer at his side.
Grief and outrage welled up inside Dayn, and his eyes took on a crazed gleam as he let loose a powerful scream, rage-filled and distraught. An eerie silence fell over the lake as the scream echoed, and chills went up the spine of every man there. Shaking with fury, Dayn grabbed his sword, and released Cei's body, yearning for revenge.
He started forward, oblivious to Arthur's cries. The Saxons quickly moved to counter him, desperate to take out the knights. Dayn dodged an arrow, and another before a third struck. The force threw Dayn back, and he hit the ice hard, stunned, but only for a moment. He jumped to his feet, only to be forced back down when someone jumped on him from behind.
Caderyn struggled to hold Dayn down—no easy task when Dayn was enraged as he was. "Gawain, help me!" he yelled, knowing he wouldn't be able to hold on much longer without help. The others had since picked up their bows once more, trying to hold off the Saxons with arrows long enough for Dayn to be pulled back. Gawain ran forward, sliding into Caderyn and Dayn and immediately moving to help Caderyn catch hold of Dayn.
Dagonet ran forward as well, but with a different purpose in mind.
"Dag!" Bors yelled, as Dagonet waded into the torrent of arrows with his axe in hand.
"Cover them," Arthur yelled, watching in alarm as the Saxons marched closer and closer to the four knights who were now exposed on the ice.
With a roar, Dagonet brought his axe down with a powerful downswing, chopping at the ice with all of his strength. Ignoring the arrows soaring ever closer, he brought his axe back up for another blow, willing the ice to break. The others just need a little more time, he thought, sensing Caderyn and Gawain struggling to pull Dayn backwards toward the others. He completed the swing, feeling the ice beginning to give a little, but before he could rejoice in the idea, an arrow smashed into him. It gave him pause, but he knew he couldn't give up yet, despite the growing pain in his chest. With a pain-filled yell, he brought the axe down one last time, relieved when he heard a sharp crack as the ice began to yield. He allowed himself to fall as the ice split, the axe dropping from limp fingers.
Unable to stand idle, Arthur charged forward, heedless of the danger, as he ran for Dagonet. Please, God, lend me the speed to save my knight, he prayed. Blistering cold water slid over Dagonet as he began to slip off the ice into the freezing water below.
Arthur reached him just as he fell into the lake, and pulled him out, groaning at the effort to heave the large, waterlogged knight back onto the ice. With a yell, Bors ran forward with a shield, terrified that his friend, his brother, was dead. Behind them, the others continued to shoot arrows as fast as they could, even as the lake began to exact its revenge on the unfortunate Saxons. Caderyn and Gawain managed to subdue Dayn, forcing him back behind the line of knights, and the two knights took up their bows once more, leaving Dayn lying on the ice behind them.
So caught up in his grief, Dayn was unaware of the actions around him. He could still sense the rage just under the surface of his sorrow, and deep down, he knew it would demand release before long. As though from far away, he saw the arrow sticking out of his leg, and with a detached expression, he jerked the arrow free without a sound. To his left, he could vaguely hear Bors yelling at Dagonet, but he ignored it, as he ignored everything else around him. A coldness as chilling as the water before him had invaded his soul, filling him up, numbing him to everything but the task at hand. Standing, he retrieved his bow and strung the arrow he'd just pulled from his leg, aiming at the Saxon who stared at them with hate-filled eyes as his men were swallowed by the lake. With a steady hand and a calculating eye, he released the arrow, watching in grim satisfaction as it hit his target.
The Saxons were completely routed at the lake, but Dayn knew it was far from over. Someone would pay dearly for this.
A/N: Okay, fans…here's the dilemma we now face. Does Dagonet live or does Dagonet die? At this point, I could go either way, but I thought I would give everyone the opportunity to decide. I'm not going to commit to going either way, but I'm interested in seeing what everyone thinks. Anyways, despite the ton of reading for my English classes, I managed to get this chapter out pretty quick, so I'm giving myself a pat on the back. I'll try to keep up this pace, but I make no promises. Oh, and Morrigán is a very confusing Celtic goddess, which sources attribute different things to; however, in this story, I'm using her as the goddess of divination and prophecy.
MonDieu666: Thanks so much for reviewing!!! If I engaged in happy dances, I would do one now, but since I lack any talent in that department, I'm refraining from that. I'm glad you like the names…I get rather attached to them myself. Anyways, thanks for the compliment, and I look forward to your next chapter.
chiefhow: Thanks for reviewing, chief. I feel like I can always count on you to send me a nice review. Anyways, I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter…I'm trying to tie up lose ends on a lot of things. Niamh is about the only thing I really have to finish up, but I can't do that yet…right now, it's looking like I might hit that in either chapter 12 or chapter 13. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter, too!
Camreyn: As always, thanks for reviewing. As for your questions, here are some answers: I think Lancelot is quick to point out everyone's flaws, not just Dayn's…we just see it more with Dayn, because he's the main character. As to Arthur's decision, you'll just have to wait and see…you might find that the decision is taken out of Arthur's hands…And why doesn't Orainne wake Dayn? Because it's like every horror movie you've ever seen: you know something is wrong, but there's that small part of you that thinks you're imagining things…I should probably clear up the relationship between Lance and Dayn, because while they may appear to hate each other, it's really not that bad. They're like brothers—they would die for each other, but their personalities don't always mesh. You know? Did you get everything cleared up concerning Dagonet and Orainne…Dag blamed himself for Orainne getting hurt because she was hurt when she came to his aid…hope that clears up your questions. I usually read over each chapter with my roommate, so that I pick up on little mistakes, but she's been busy, so I haven't been proofreading like I should…I'll try to do better. Again, thanks so much for your reviews…I haven't gotten as many reviews lately, so having a really long one from you goes a long way in cheering me up.
