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Chapter 12: A Lament for the Fallen
Dayn looked down at Cei's lifeless body and felt pain tear through his soul. As he became aware of the warm blood streaming down, his leg suddenly buckled under his weight and he feel heavily to the ground. Dayn crawled closer to Cei's body, pulling it into his lap. He looked down into Cei's cold face, feeling a tightness in his throat. As much as he tried to suppress it, a sob escaped, releasing a deluge of emotion. Tears poured down his face, as he slowly rocked back and forth, Cei's body cradled in his arms.
A cacophony of noise assailed him, as the other knights were trying to help Dagonet. Bastards, Dayn thought, with unreasonable anger as he cried. They've forgotten Cei. No one cares that he's dead.
"Cei, I'm sorry," he whispered. "It should have been me. Not you. My freedom was so far away…but yours, it was right there."
"Dayn." Arthur's voice intruded, and Dayn looked up to see his commander looking down at him with sorrowful eyes. "I'm sorry about Cei."
"He shouldn't have been here, Arthur. He should have been free," Dayn said, his words choked by grief.
"I know," Arthur murmured. Dayn looked back down at Cei's still face, hardly able to believe that he would never hear Cei's voice again, or see him laugh with the others as they drank ale until the wee hours of the morning. His eyes were drawn back to the lake, watching with a steady gaze as Saxons continued to flounder in the icy water. If only I hadn't run out of arrows, Dayn thought coldly, his eyes narrowing. I'd make damn sure that no more of them escaped the lake.
"Dayn, we need to take him now. We have to catch up to the caravan." Dayn said nothing, only continued to watch the stragglers who'd survived trying to struggle up out of the water. He felt Arthur and someone else—Aldric perhaps—slowly lifting Cei's body away from him, and with his arms now devoid of Cei's weight, Dayn was struck with a profound feeling of emptiness.
He felt empty, as though a cold darkness had seeped into his soul, leaving nothing behind but a shell of whom he once was.
Caderyn stood beside Lancelot, watching as Aldric and Gawain helped Arthur secure Cei's body to his horse. Tristan had ridden ahead to fetch Orainne, for she was the closest thing they had to a healer, and Dagonet certainly needed one. Bors sat with Dagonet now, his normally jovial disposition absent as he gazed upon his friend with worried eyes. Guenevere and Galahad were both helping Jols pick up the discarded weapons that were strewn about all over the ground. Caderyn and Lancelot merely looked on, both of them feeling helpless to do anything.
"I called him a fool," Lancelot said suddenly, turning to Caderyn with guilty eyes.
"You mean Cei?"
"Yes. I told him that everything would be fine. I berated him for his foolishness, and now he's dead," Lancelot said, his voice heavy with emotion.
"Lance, none of us could have known what was to happen. You shouldn't blame yourself. Besides, you weren't the only one to tease him," Caderyn said, feeling a twinge of guilt himself.
"Dayn's girl…she knew that something was going to happen. I didn't listen when she tried to warn us. I told Cei he was foolish to heed her words. But it was I who was the fool."
"There was nothing we could have done to prevent his death. We are but mortals in an uncertain world, Lancelot—what more can we do? Life is a risky game of chance we play with the Goddess of Fortune, and at any time, we could lose. It's pointless to fight it."
"You sound like Arthur, with your talk of gods," Lancelot said disdainfully. "We're just supposed to live our lives without any control over our own destinies? I don't accept that, Caderyn—I won't! So you keep your goddess, and Arthur can keep his god—I want no part of it!" Caderyn watched Lancelot stalk away angrily, saddened by his friend's emotions. It's hard for a man without faith, he thought ruefully. For without faith, how can one make sense of anything that happens in this world?
"Caderyn!" Hearing Arthur call his name, he turned away from Lancelot, looking to his commander. "See to Dayn—he's hurt." Hurt? Damn, how could I miss that? He was standing right beside me during the battle. Shaking his head, he looked around for Dayn, not certain where the young knight might be. And then he saw him.
Dayn sat, unmoving, at the edge of the ice, staring blankly ahead, his eyes riveted on the scene before him. His bow lay by his side, his sword a considerable distance away, discarded where he'd dropped it. Caderyn walked over, picking up Dayn's sword along the way.
"Dayn. Dayn, let me see to your leg."
"It's nothing."
"You're losing your life's blood. You need to have it bandaged," Caderyn said, his brow wrinkling in concern. "Come now, Dayn."
"It pains me not. I'll see to it later."
"Dayn-"
"Not yet, Caderyn," Dayn said, his voice barren of all emotion. His eyes remained riveted on the lake, watching as the last vestiges of the Saxon force vainly tried to escape the icy clutches of the water.
"Why do you watch them?"
"Because I want to see them die. They killed Cei, and the life they stole must be repaid."
Caderyn sat down beside him, knowing instinctively that his friend was hurting inside, and that there was nothing he could say to make it better. He put his hand on Dayn's shoulder, squeezing gently.
"I'm tired, Caderyn. Of all of it," Dayn murmured, closing his eyes as the lake fell silent and still, at peace once more. But it was a deceptive peace, for beneath those now placid waters, death remained. Dayn slowly felt his body began to slouch sideways, but he couldn't find the strength to fight it. Caderyn caught him, lowering him gently the rest of the way to the ground.
"Someone bring me some bandages," Caderyn yelled, leaving it to one of the others to do as he bid. Dayn blinked up at him for a moment, before he finally succumbed to the darkness that claimed him.
Struck with an odd sense of misgiving, Orainne paused in the middle of a conversation with Niamh, her eyes taking on a blank stare.
"Orainne, what is it?" Niamh asked, concerned by the vacant look on Orainne's face. For a moment, Orainne didn't answer, and it seemed to Niamh that Orainne was somewhere far away. "Orainne?"
"I must go back," Orainne said suddenly, her eyes blazing into Niamh's earnestly.
"Go back? Orainne, you can't—it's dangerous! And besides, you've said it yourself—you're no warrior!"
"None of that matters, Niamh. I have to go back," she said, shouldering her way past Fulcinia and Lucan to the back of the wagon.
"But why?" Niamh asked, scrambling to follow her.
"I don't know. I just have this horrible feeling that something is wrong," Orainne murmured. "I shall return soon, Niamh." She slipped out of the slow-moving wagon before Niamh could argue further.
Borrowing a horse from one of the serfs, she hesitantly mounted, praying to Epona, the goddess of horses, to help her stay in the saddle. Please, Epona, don't let me fall. I've never ridden alone before. Holding the reins in clenched fists, she urged the horse forward, ignoring Niamh's voice calling her back.
Fear caused her to tremble as the horse began to gain speed. Though the creature had only set off at a brisk canter, Orainne feared that she wouldn't be able to control the beast. She had no idea what she would do when she reached the knights, nor did she know what she would find when she got there. She only knew that she had to get there.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she held on for dear life, leaving it to the horse to find his way.
"I pointed you in the right direction, and now you must do your part, my friend," she whispered to the horse, hoping desperately that he somehow understood her words.
"Orainne," a voice called, and she opened her eyes to see Tristan galloping toward her on his horse. Panic struck as she tried to stop her horse, only to realize that she didn't know how. Tristan, sensing her problem, rode up beside her and took the reins from her hands, pulling her horse to a stop.
"Dayn?" she asked, fearfully.
"No. Dagonet," Tristan replied. He decided not to mention that Dayn had been hurt…the wound wasn't serious, and he had no way of telling her anyhow. "Come." He held the reins out to her, but she shook her head.
"I ride not well," she said in halting Latin, hoping she said the right words. "I ride with you?" she asked fearfully. Nodding, he pulled her into the saddle behind him, and trusting her to hold on, took off at a swift gallop, pushing away the worry that gnawed at him. Dagonet will be fine, now. Orainne will help him, he told himself firmly.
Tristan slid from the saddle, and caught Orainne, lifting her down swiftly. Bors met them, grabbing Orainne by the arm and dragging her to Dagonet's unconscious form.
"You can help him, right?" Orainne wasn't sure of his words, but caught his meaning and knelt down beside the still knight. Feeling the chill of his skin, she glanced at his lips, alarmed at their purple hue.
Taking a sharp scythe-like dagger from a scabbard at Bors' waist, she began to cut at the tough leather of his tunic. They needed to get him out of the cold, wet clothing that clung to him. She struggled to pull at the clothing, unable to lift the shoulders of the large knight.
"Help me," she said, her voice at once taking on a tone of command she seldom used. Bors, Aldric, and Arthur immediately moved to remove the heavy leather tunic that comprised Dagonet's armor, careful not to jar the arrows that remained in his abdomen.
"This, give this," Orainne said tugging on the cloak that Bors wore over his shoulders. "We warm him," she said, pulling her own cloak from her shoulders to cover the knight. Taking Bors' offered cloak, as well as Gawain's, she began to wrap Dagonet in the warm cloaks, hoping that they would counter the wet clothes that he still wore. It wouldn't be safe to remove all of his clothing in the open, and she suspected that the cold was actually helping to stop blood loss.
"We must get him back to the caravan, so he may be warmed properly, and I can see to the arrows." Right after she said it, she realized that none of them understood her. She glanced around for Dayn, only then realizing that he was not standing there with the others. "Dayn?" she called out.
"He's hurt, Orainne," Galahad said with a helpless shrug. Her face crumpled as she translated his words. "Not bad, though," Galahad said quickly. Caderyn and Lancelot carried Dayn over, holding him up between them, and as worried as Orainne was, she knew they had no time to tarry. She stood and went to stand before them, slapping Dayn's face lightly.
"Dayn, wake up," she said forcefully. He rolled his head groggily, and blinked up at her, confused to see her standing there. "Dayn, you must translate for me," she said, holding his face between her hands. "Do you understand? You must—for Dagonet." He nodded, and she stepped back, turning to the others. She repeated her earlier order, and Dayn slowly passed her words on in Latin. The knights moved quickly to comply, with Arthur and Aldric helping Bors to get Dagonet on Bors' horse. Bors mounted behind Dagonet, to hold him upright, and Tristan took Orainne again. Caderyn was placed in charge of Dayn, and Lancelot and Gawain helped get Dayn into Caderyn's saddle. With Arthur holding the reins of Cei's horse, they thundered away from the lake, leaving the now placid water behind them.
Hearing hoofbeats, Niamh glanced up, hoping to see some sign of Orainne or the knights. They rode up, and yells went up as the serfs immediately went to aid the injured. Niamh's eyes sought out Tristan, and she felt instant relief pour through her as she caught sight of him among the knights.
She ran forward, eager to see for herself that he wasn't injured, but before she could reach him, Arthur grabbed her arm.
"Niamh, we need you to translate Orainne's words for us," he said, pulling her toward the wagon where they were taking Dagonet.
"But…why can't Dayn…" she started, but Arthur cut her off.
"Dayn was injured. He's unconscious again, so we need you." Nodding, she followed Arthur to the wagon where Orainne was anxiously waiting for the knights to get Dagonet settled in the wagon.
Goddess, help us, it's going to be a long day, she prayed.
Hours later, Orainne leaned back wearily, assured that Dagonet would survive. She had removed the arrows and applied poultices to the wounds. After bandaging him, she ordered him to be wrapped in blankets. Lucan looked on worriedly, dried tears on his face, and Orainne placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile.
As she stepped out of the wagon, she stumbled, and a firm hand reached out and steadied her. She looked up to give her thanks only to step back in fear as she realized that it was Lancelot.
"I'm not going to hurt you," Lancelot said, but not understanding, Orainne turned and hurried away. Lancelot watched her rush from him, and he sighed before climbing into the wagon to check on Dagonet.
Orainne began to look for Dayn, unsure where he'd been taken. She had pushed away her fear earlier, but now that Dagonet was out of danger, her fear for Dayn returned. Spotting Caderyn getting ready to climb back into his saddle, she ran to him, calling out his name.
"Caderyn! Dayn…where?" With a soft smile, Caderyn took her elbow and led her to another wagon, helping her inside so she could see that Dayn was resting comfortably. He started to walk away when he heard Orainne call his name again.
"He is…not," Orainne said, groping rather unsuccessfully for the words she needed. Caderyn's eyes filled with confusion and he stepped back to the wagon and peeked inside. The pallet where he himself had laid Dayn down was now empty.
"Oh, shit," Caderyn muttered. He immediately began to look for Dayn in the immediate vicinity of the wagon, but there was no sign of him. Spotting Arthur crossing the camp, he called out, garnering Arthur's attention. Caderyn hurried toward him, Orainne at his heels.
"What is it, Caderyn?" Arthur asked wearily.
"Dayn's missing," Caderyn said quietly. Arthur sighed, feeling as though a heavy weight were pressing down on his shoulders. "I've looked around, but there's no trace of him, Arthur."
"Gather up the others. We have to find him," Arthur said, shaking his head ruefully. There's no telling what he'll do if left to his own devices. Caderyn returned with the others in moments, and Arthur looked at each of them intently, his concern obvious.
"Dayn is no longer in the camp, and we need to find him. I know you're all tired, but I fear what Dayn may do if left alone."
"He was upset," Caderyn said, looking at each of the knights as the meaning of his words sank in. Nothing good could come of Dayn being upset and armed.
"All the more reason to find him quickly. I don't have to tell you how important it is that he be found."
It was Gawain and Lancelot who found Dayn. Dayn sat against a tree a considerable distance from the camp, his eyes bloodshot and fatigued. Lancelot held back as Gawain stepped forward, thinking it wiser not to approach Dayn in an unknown state-of-mind.
"Dayn, everyone's looking for you," Gawain said gently.
"You know…Cei couldn't wait to go home," Dayn said gently, as though Gawain hadn't spoken. "He was going to take over his father's herd when he got home." Dayn gave a bitter laugh. "Can you imagine it? Cei as a damn shepherd. I used to give him a hard time about it…but deep down, I envied him. He was going to leave this life behind and never look back. Could you do that?" For the first time, he looked up at Gawain, his eyes burning into Gawain's with intensity. Gawain noticed the sweat on Dayn's brow as his body fought fever, worried now that Dayn might not be quite lucid.
Lancelot looked impatiently at the two before turning his back on them to stare at the snow that fell from the sky. He didn't want to remain any longer, listening to them talk about Cei. It's too much. First, the Romans betray us, then the Woads are fighting with us rather than against us, and now Cei. It felt to Lancelot as though the very world that he had come to know was beginning to fray, and nothing was what it once was. Guilt over his last words to Cei warred with his confusion, and the inner turmoil allowed him no peace.
"You need rest, Dayn," Lancelot heard Gawain say. "Come back with us to camp."
"Answer me," Dayn demanded, his voice tight from restrained emotion. With a sigh, Gawain sat down beside him, ignoring the cold chill of the snow on the ground.
"I don't know, Dayn. This is the only life I know…"
"I will lead no other life than this one," Dayn murmured. He glanced down at something he held in his hands, and Gawain looked down to see what held his attention. It was an amulet in the shape of a bear.
"Is that Cei's?" he asked Dayn, recognizing it for the simple design that Cei had worn around his neck, similar to the one Lancelot wore.
"Yes. Cei wore it for luck," Dayn replied. With an angry smirk, he closed his fingers around the amulet. "It was worthless, for it helped him not when he needed it most." Lifting his arm, he hurled the small pendant into the forest, furious that it had proved to be nothing more than a mere trinket.
"Dayn, you're tired. Come on now," Gawain said in a coaxing tone. "Orainne's waiting for you."
"Cei shouldn't have died, Gawain," he said, looking up at Gawain with confused eyes. "It was the damn Romans—it's all their fault," he yelled suddenly. The sudden outburst seemed to sap the energy from him, and he leaned back wearily against the tree, closing his eyes. "I'm tired, Gawain."
Gawain watched as Dayn's breathing slowed and his head dropped forward before calling out to Lancelot.
"Come on, Lance, I need your help to get him back." Lancelot trudged forward through the snow, helping Gawain get Dayn up. As they began the long trek back to the camp, Lancelot glanced back.
"Wait, Gawain." Leaving Gawain to support Dayn alone, he hurried back, searching the ground frantically. Finally, he spotted what he sought, and he knelt in the snow, picking up Cei's amulet. Brushing the snow off of it, he slipped it over his neck, and hurried back to Gawain. Their eyes met for a moment, and for a second, Lancelot thought Gawain would say something. But he didn't, and without another word the knights set off for camp, Dayn between them.
It was a sober caravan that arrived at Hadrian's Wall two days later. Niamh shrank back against Tristan, fear mounting as they returned to the garrison. Tristan tightened his arms around her, feeling her trembling against him.
"You have nothing to fear," he told her softly. I'll take care of everything.
"But he'll see me return. I know he will," she said fearfully.
"Perhaps. I'll see to it." Niamh fell silent, and Tristan pulled her closer to him, wanting to reassure her. He couldn't say what it was about Niamh that pulled him to her, but in a short time, she had wormed her way into his heart and with a start, he realized that he wanted her with him. But first, he had something to take care of, he thought with a grim smile.
Dayn rode his horse with Orainne behind him, and it was hard to say who was supporting who in the saddle. There were dark shadows under his eyes, and he felt weariness all the way to his bones. The pain in his leg had ceased to a dull throbbing which he easily ignored.
As they rode through the gates, the happy shrieks of Bors' children seemed harsh to Dayn. They reined their horses in when they reached the courtyard, and Dayn slowly dismounted, reaching up to help Orainne. She looked at him with worried eyes, noting the paleness of his face and the trembling of his body.
"Ah! Good! Christ be praised!" At the sound of the Bishop's voice, Dayn's eyes narrowed in hatred. "Against all the odds Satan could possi– Alecto! Let me see you! You have triumphed! Young Alecto! Let me see you! You are here!" Dayn glared at the pompous man, angry that he could be so happy when Cei was dead.
The Bishop looked at the knights, not noticing that one of their number was missing. "Great Knights. You are free now! Give me the papers," he called out, motioning for his men to bring forward the pardons. "Come, come! Your papers of safe conduct throughout the Roman Empire! Take it, Arthur." The knights held back, no one moving as the Bishop moved toward them. Arthur was the first to move, approaching the Bishop with barely-concealed anger.
"Bishop Germanius. Friend of my father." Dayn watched Arthur walk away, before slowly turning his eyes back to see Lancelot take the papers from the Bishop's gold-inlaid box. As Lancelot began to pass the papers out to each knight, Dayn stepped back, slowly retreating into the shadows with Orainne beside him.
"You are free. You can go!" the Bishop exclaimed, expecting some sort of joyful response. But their freedom was overshadowed by Cei's death, and for the knights, there could be no happiness at the loss of one of their own.
"We don't need your permission to go, Roman," Caderyn said. Caderyn and Aldric moved to fetch Cei's body from the saddle, while Bors went to the wagon with Galahad to help Dagonet. As Niamh ran to help, Tristan stepped forward to admire the Bishop's ornate box. Orainne smiled as she watched Tristan reach out and take the box, tucking it under his arm as he went to catch up with Niamh.
From his place in the shadows, Dayn watched the Bishop smiling as he turned back to Alecto, who merely looked at him with thinly veiled disdain.
And somewhere in the cold region of his soul, a fire began to burn, smoldering with an all-consuming lust for vengeance. Not long now, he thought, darkly. "Soon," he whispered to himself, his eyes aflame as he watched the Bishop smile and laugh. Smile now, for you won't smile for long.
