A/N: You may recognize ModestySparrow9's character Adima from "The Heart of the Hawk," who makes another appearance in this chapter. If you haven't read it, you should check it out. Thanks Modesty, for letting me use her. Also, special thanks goes to Aelia O'Hession, who helped me out with Camulus, the god of war that is mentioned in this chapter.

Disclaimer: blah, blah, blah…yes, we know what I don't own.

Chapter 15: An All-Consuming Fire

Hummingbird's eyes shot open with excitement and she jumped out of bed, crawling over Number 7 and Number 9, and just barely managing to avoid kicking Nine in the head. She hurriedly pulled her dress on, not bothering to brush out her hair before she rushed outside, running for Tristan's room.

Outside, Gawain, Galahad, and Bors were loading up the wagons for the journey home while Aldric helped Caderyn to one of the wagons. Caderyn looked tired and weak, and he leaned heavily on Aldric as they slowly made their way to the wagon. Dagonet was already loaded in, once again resting comfortably despite the chaos going on around him.

Gawain caught sight of Hummingbird running past him, and he grinned, calling out for her. "Hummingbird, where are you off to?" She backtracked, hurrying back to him eagerly to leap into his arms. He caught her up easily, smiling at the excitement on her face as she played with the tresses of his hair.

"Did ya' find Lancelot, Gawain? Cause I know I could have found him for ya' if I hadn't had to go to bed."

"Yeah, I bet you could, Hummingbird, but we found him alright. It wasn't too hard this time."

"And did ya' find Dayn and Tristan?"

"Uh, you could say that," he hedged.

"Dayn's not in trouble now, is he?" she asked, worried for her favorite person in the world. She had to check up on him every now and then.

"He would be if he were here."

"What do you mean?" she asked him curiously.

"Dayn's not here anymore, Hummingbird."

"Well, where did he go?" Gawain looked down into her face, knowing she didn't understand.

"He's with the Woads now."

"But he'll be back, right?"

"No, I'm afraid not. He won't be coming with us, Hummingbird."

"You mean he's staying here? He's not going to Sarmatia with us?" she asked, her eyes widening as her chin began to tremble.

Gawain shook his head sadly, watching as Hummingbird's eyes welled up with tears. The little girl burst into tears, burying her face in his neck, and Gawain could almost feel her heart breaking.

"I didn't get to say goodbye," she sobbed. Bors approached, his eyes questioning as he caught sight of his daughter in Gawain's arms sobbing as though her world was coming to an end.

"She's upset about Dayn," Gawain said, answering Bors' unspoken question. Noticing Gawain speaking to someone else, Hummingbird's head lifted and upon seeing her father, she squirmed to get down. Gawain set her down, watching in disbelief as the six-year-old stomped over to Bors, her tearstained face glaring up at him in childish fury.

"Papa, you made me go to bed and I didn't get to see Dayn, and now he's gone, and I'm mad at you!"

"Now, Eight," Bors started placatingly. But Hummingbird would have none of it.

"NO! Dayn's gone forever and ever, and I hate you!" she cried, her face crumpling as she started to cry again. She ran off in tears, and Bors was left staring after her, stricken.

"I'm sure she didn't mean that, Bors," Gawain said sympathetically.

"You think so?"

"Of course, Bors. Children say things all the time that they don't mean." Bors perked up a bit at the thought, for at heart, he was a man who deeply loved his children, and the thought of one of them hating him cut deeply.

Before he could reply, however, Lancelot rode up, looking quite pleased with himself. Gawain watched with a scowl as Lancelot dismounted smoothly and tied his horse to a nearby wagon.

"Let me tell you about the pretty Woad I bedded last night," Lancelot said with his trademark grin. Gawain, however, was not amused, and he leaned forward and smacked Lancelot in the back of the head. "Ow, what was that for?" Lancelot asked, annoyed now.

"That was for not sending word back to us last night. We were worried about you! We were left here to wonder if you'd been caught, and the whole time you're with some wench!" Gawain speared Lancelot with an angry glare before he turned and stalked off.

Lancelot turned to Bors, who just shrugged.

"Don't look at me, Lancelot. I wasn't worried. I was already drunk by then," he said with a grin. Lancelot laughed and threw his arm over Bors' shoulders. "So, about this wench I was with last night…she was a Woad, but I'm beginning to see why Dayn favors them…"


Hummingbird swiped at the tears in her eyes angrily as she ran for her favorite hiding spot. I'm gonna find Dayn myself, and I'll make him come to Sarmatia with us. Reaching the stack of barrels not far from the tavern that the knights often frequented, she crawled around them to the back of the pile and hugged her knees to her chest. I'll wait here, and when everyone's gone, I'll go find Dayn, she thought confidently. Possessing her father's stubbornness, she resolved to do exactly that. I'm a good finder. I know I can find him.


Dayn strapped on his armor, glancing at the brand on his forearm with a grin. If I'd known it would be this easy to desert, I'd have considered it a long time ago. He glanced at it once more before pulling his bracer on over it. He'd let Orainne replace the bandage on his leg, none the worse for wear after the previous night's exploits, except for a slight ache. Once the battle began, Dayn knew, he would notice it not. He secured his hair back from his face, not wanting it to impede him in battle. How Tristan can stand to have his hair falling in his face, I'll never know.

Orainne came up behind him, holding a small jar of woad in her hands, a sad smile on her face. He sat down, and she knelt before him with the woad and slowly began to apply the blue paint to his face and neck. Suddenly, she dropped the jar and threw herself into his arms, squeezing him tightly into the crook of neck.

"I don't want you to go," she murmured.

"Orainne, I promise you, this fight will not be my last. I'll return to you," he murmured softly, trying to soothe her, but not sure that he could. For a long time, he just held her in his arms, feeling her warmth against him, enjoying the softness of her skin, inhaling the scent of her hair.

"Dayn?"

"Hmm?"

"I think the baby will come in the spring," she said softly, twirling a strand of his hair around her finger.

"Vanora's pregnant again?" he asked, surprised that Orainne knew of Vanora, and that Bors hadn't mentioned it. He was usually quick to inform the knights when he got Vanora pregnant again.

"No, Dayn," she said with a shy smile. "Not Vanora's, mine."

"Yours?"

"Well, ours," she said, correcting herself. Dayn didn't respond though, and she looked up at him, suddenly nervous. "Are you angry?" she asked hesitantly.

"What? No, of course not!"

"Then, what is it?"

"Well, it's just that…I've never thought about being a father before," he said, still trying to get over the shock of her announcement. I never thought I'd survive long enough to be a father. But he knew he couldn't tell her that.

"So, are you happy?"

"Yes, Orainne, I'm happy," he said with a smile. And it was true. "But let's hope the baby gets your temperament and not mine." She smiled back at him, and he hugged her to him, kissing her temple.

"Dayn!" He glanced up to see Garran standing in the doorway. "We're starting to gather at the tree line," he told Dayn. "You need to hurry. Artorius is on top of the hill." Dayn nodded, and turned back to Orainne.

"I have to go, love," he told her softly.

"I know," she said tearfully. "Be careful, Dayn, and may Nemhain and Camulus protect you." He kissed her, and ran for the door, not looking back because he knew that he wouldn't be able to leave her if he did.


Arthur watched with a heavy heart as the caravan of Romans, peasants, and his knights set out from the garrison, taking with it all that he held dear. Unable to watch any longer, he turned his back and pulled his helm securely over his head, feeling comfort in its familiar weight. Merciful God, watch over my knights, and may they find what they seek. They've waited so long for their freedom, and long have I seen the yearning for home in each of their faces. Let them have what they so long deserve.

Sitting upon his white horse upon the crest of Badon Hill, he felt his heart swell with emotion as he looked across the land that had been his home for over fifteen years. Though he'd lived on British lands for most of his life, for the first time, he felt as though he'd found his place. He was home.

"Artorius!" The yell was unmistakably Bors, and Arthur could make out his figure as he left the column and raised his sword in the air. "RUS!" Hearing the familiar cry of the Sarmatians, Arthur felt an answering echo within.

"RUS!" he yelled, pouring out his feeling in one loud roar, a final farewell to his beloved knights, his loyal friends. The cry echoed across the land, and as it faded, Arthur knew with a terrible ache in his heart that it was goodbye.

Unable to watch the knights' departure any longer, he turned to gaze at the tree line. Though he saw nothing, he knew that by now, the Woads would be gathering. He only hoped that it would be enough to defeat the Saxons. Hearing hoof beats, he turned to see Dayn riding toward him at a gallop.

"Dayn, your penchant for trouble never ceases to astound me," he said wryly, referring to the previous night's fiasco with a raised eyebrow. Dayn grinned at him as his horse fell in beside Arthur's.

"Well, you know me, Arthur. If an opportunity presents itself, I just can't let it pass me by."

"So you killed two Romans of considerable status because the opportunity arose?"

"No. Only one of those kills was mine.

"Let me guessthe bishop?"

"How did you know?" Dayn asked with a smile.

"Dayn, that kill had your name written all over it. From setting my quarters on fire, which we'll discuss later, to dumping the man with the pigs…that was all you."

"Ah, Arthur, you know me well. Sorry about the fire, by the way. What can I say? It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"Yes, well, you owe me considerably for all of my possessions that are nothing more than charred ruins now. But aside from that, if you didn't kill the Captain, who did?"

"Tristan," Dayn told him, knowing that Arthur wouldn't give them away to anyone. Besides, Tristan had his pardon, and the Romans were leaving, so what did it matter anymore?

"Tristan? I can't imagine Tristan killing someone and leaving the body where anyone could find it."

"Well, I don't think he cared at that point. He was angrier than I've ever seen him."

"You'll have to tell me the whole story one day."

"Sure, Arthur."

"Dayn, I've often thought you too violent at times, and I cannot say that I approve of your actions as far as killing Romans is concerned. I've never thought it our place in this world to judge others and condemn them. But in this case, I think you were justified in killing the bishop. He was a man who used his authority for ill purposes, and he wasn't above concealing the truth if it suited his purposes. Considering that, I found it very easy to pretend I knew nothing when the Romans asked me about the events of last night."

"That means a lot, coming from you, Arthur." It's nice to know that, for once, Arthur actually approves. Well, sort of. He didn't actually say come out and say that, but he didn't say that he disapproved either. The distinction is important. "I wonder what I'll do now, with all the Romans gone," Dayn mused, seeing if he could get a rise out of Arthur.

"Dayn," Arthur lightly scolded, amused in spite of himself. "I'm glad you're here, Dayn. I am honored to have you at my side."

"No, the honor is mine. You are my commander, Arthur, but more than that, you've been the only father I've ever known. If death is what awaits me on this field of battle, then so be it, because I will follow you into the very fires of the underworld before I abandon you to fight alone."

Arthur nodded, touched at the feeling in Dayn's voice, knowing that he meant every word.

"Still, I would prefer it if you lived, Arthur. I'd hate to leave Orainne behind to chase you into the underworld," he said with a grin, breaking the solemn mood. Arthur grinned back at him, and laughed.

"Dayn, I can always count on you to be sarcastic at the most inopportune moments." Dayn chuckled, but suddenly straightened in the saddle.

"Arthur," he said, nodding in the direction of the wall. Arthur followed his gaze and saw a Saxon stepping forward from the Saxon lines followed by a smaller, skinnier man bearing a white flag. "What are you going to do?"

"Stay here," Arthur said, not answering Dayn's question. For once, Dayn didn't argue as he watched Arthur stab his standard into the ground and ride forward to meet the Saxon.

"I don't know which is worse, a Saxon or a Roman," Dayn muttered to himself. Brina tossed her head, as though to answer him. He chuckled, patting the horse on the neck. "Yeah, you're right. The Romans, definitely."

When Arthur rode back to him, Dayn saw the look in Arthur's eyes, and recognized it for what it was. Arthur was going to protect these lands with every fiber of his being, which meant that a lot of Saxons were going to meet their deaths at the end of Arthur's sword. Dayn grinned. He could hardly wait.

"Dayn, are the Woads assembled?"

"Yes, they're in place at the tree line, awaiting your command."

"Excellent, now we wait."

"Wait? For what?"

"The Saxons to make the first move."

Dayn sensed movement to their left, and he turned to see the remaining knights riding toward them, minus Caderyn and Dagonet. Led by Lancelot, they powered up the hill on their horses, coming to a stop beside Dayn and Arthur.

"We had some free time," Lancelot said with a smirk. "Didn't think we should let you two fight alone—you might get hurt."

"Besides, we couldn't let you have all the fun," Bors said with a smile. He maneuvered his horse until he was beside Dayn and leaned toward him. "Dayn, Dag asked me to give this to you, said he owed you." He held a dagger out, hilt first, and Dayn looked at it for a moment, admiring it before shaking his head.

"Bors, I told him he didn't owe me a thing. Orainne used my dagger to save him, and though it was lost, it served a good purpose. He owes me nothing."

"Dayn, don't you argue with me. Dag told me to make sure you took it, and you're going to. Now here," he commanded, and Dayn reluctantly took it from Bors' outstretched hand. Bors nodded in satisfaction as Dayn tucked it into his boot.

"So, Arthur, what's the plan?" Gawain asked.

"You'll see," Arthur answered. "Dayn, signal the Woads. They need to be ready to move as soon as the Saxons enter." Dayn nodded and rode off at a swift gallop.

"Enter?" Lancelot asked. "How are they going to do that?"

"We're going to open the gate for them," Arthur said with a smile.

"That's your great plan?"

"Oh there's much more to it than that, Lancelot. But all you need to know is that when I give the signal, be prepared to move. We're going to ride right through them."


Dayn watched as the flaming arrow arched into the sky, and the Woads began to move. Near the wall, smoke began to drift into the air, concealing all as the remaining peasants, led by Jols, set fire to bales of hay scattered throughout the fields before scurrying to the gate of the wall. Working together they widened the gap in the gate and ran for cover. It would be their turn to fight all too soon, but they too would wait for Arthur's signal.

Arthur watched as the Saxons began to charge forward with their battle cry echoing harshly as they ran for the open gate, ready for a fight. It's time.


Hummingbird shivered in her place among the barrels. Maybe I should have asked Papa to take me to Dayn, she thought. Something was wrong. An eerie stillness had overtaken the garrison, and no one stirred. Where is everybody? I'm scared. Crawling out from the pile of barrels, she came to her feet, twisting the hem of her cloak in her hands nervously.

"Papa?" she whispered. Tears filled her eyes and she fought not to let them fall as she looked around in alarm. "Papa," she said again. I need to find Papa, she thought as she slowly stepped away from the barrels. She coughed as smoke blew into her eyes, causing her eyes to tear again. This time, she couldn't prevent the tears from falling as the smoke made her eyes burn. "Papa," she called. Which way would he go? She looked from left to right before deciding to go right. Arthur's God, please help me find Papa, she prayed. Having no gods of her own, she figured it couldn't hurt to ask Arthur's god for help. I'm sure he won't mind sharing for a little while, she thought to herself. Arthur is a nice man, and Papa always said that Arthur prays to his god all the time. Maybe he listens a lot then. Yeah, I bet that's why. So, maybe he won't mind helping me. Just this once. With a child's hope, she smiled and walked forward, leaving all that was familiar behind.

Off in the distance, drums began to beat and a roar filled the air as the Saxons charged.


The wagons moved along, the wheels bumping a bit as the horses pulled them, and Caderyn could feel the lulling effect the gentle swaying was having on him as his eyes began to drift shut. Across from him, Dagonet was already asleep, resting comfortably due to the herbal remedy that Orainne had left for him. Lucan had grown bored with the quiet and had left to join Bors' rowdy bunch in another wagon, eager for friends to play with.

Having been left behind by the other knights after being told he was in no condition to fight, Caderyn had found himself with nothing else to do but lie about in the wagon and sleep. And though he longed to fight alongside the others, he had to admit that he needed the rest. He still felt weak from loss of blood, and he knew he was far from being up to his usual standards. He could feel sleep dragging at him, the ache in his side having begun to taper off to a dull throb, when a bloodcurdling scream rent the silence. He shot up, ignoring the sudden stab of pain as he grabbed his sword and crawled to the open end of the wagon. The wagon had come to a sudden halt at the scream, as had many of the others, and Caderyn used the opportunity to hop out, wincing as the movement jarred him painfully.

Outside, Vanora was running frantically from wagon to wagon, crying out and Caderyn's heart dropped as he realized she was calling for Hummingbird. He hurried toward her, his arm clamped tightly against his side in order to avoid causing any unnecessary pain to the wound.

"Vanora, what happened?"

"Eight! I can't find her, Caderyn! She's not here!"

"Not here? Where would she be then? Surely, she's just hiding somewhere," he said hopefully.

"No, she's not here! I have to go back!" she cried, trying to push past him.

"Back? Vanora, you can't go back!" he said, grabbing her arm. "The garrison will be overrun by Saxons—it isn't safe!"

"I'm going to find my child, Caderyn," she said forcefully, and Caderyn knew that if he didn't do something, there would be no stopping her.

"Look, you stay with the caravan. I'll go back and search for her."

"Caderyn, you're hurt, and you've got no cause to be running around," she said. "I'll go after her myself, and I'll be careful."

"No, you won't," Caderyn said firmly. "Do you honestly think that I'll just let you return to the garrison only to get yourself hurt or killed when the Saxons find you. At least I can protect myselfyou've got no skill with a sword, Vanora. And Bors would be devastated if anything happened to you."

"But," she stammered, but Caderyn would have none of it.

"Go and fetch my armor from whatever wagon the others stashed it in. Bring it quicklywe don't have a lot of time!"


Arthur led the knights in a swift charge down the hill, the sound of the horses' hooves thundering against the ground as the smoke from numerous fires engulfed them. This time, Nemhain, don't hold back. Give me everything you've got.

As much fun as it was to cut down the unsuspecting Saxons, Dayn was eager for a more up close and personal battle, and he knew it wouldn't be long before his wish was granted.

Following Lancelot's lead, he jumped from the saddle and waded into the fray, recklessly throwing himself into the battle with his sword raised. A shower of blood rained down on him as his sword found a Saxon, and as he ripped into the man's chest, he let loose with a war cry as the Woads made their move, emerging from the tree line with a collective roar.

As the bulk of the Saxon army met with the Woads, a feral grin appeared on Dayn's face as the blood began to surge in his veins. Guided by Nemhain's hand, he cut and stabbed, slashing at every Saxon who crossed his path.

"Dayn!" Hearing his name, he forcefully pushed away the madness momentarily, turning in the direction of the voice. "Look to Adima," Guenevere called out from nearby, and he looked in the direction she pointed in, seeing Adima with two other Woad women, Caireach and Muireann. Adima struggled to hold off a large Saxon while the other two dealt with Saxons of their own, and he could see the strain on Adima's face as she labored to hold the larger man off. Knowing she was outmatched by the Saxon, Dayn pulled Dagonet's dagger from his boot and with a swift prayer to Nemhain to guide his hand, he hurled the dagger, watching as it flew toward the Saxon. He never knew if it hit its mark because pain pierced his chest suddenly and a chilling cold swept through him.

When he looked down to see an arrow protruding through the armor right above his heart, a familiar, fiery rage grew inside him, exploding with flaming intensity. Bellowing with anger, the madness retook him and he surrendered to it willingly, letting Nemhain take him completely. Wholly unaware of the pain radiating out from the wound, he threw himself into the battle furiously.


As Caireach fought, she began to notice that more and more of the Saxon barbarians were quickly moving away from her direction, fleeing. It can't be because of me, she thought, for while I am a warrior, my skills are not such to incite that sort of fear in the Saxons. Turning, she realized what it was that had the Saxons running. Dayn.

Though they'd met briefly once, she'd never fought at his side before, nor seen him fight. But he was fast becoming legendary among the Woads, and even as far north as Caireach's tribe, they were beginning to speak of him in whispers as "Nemhain's Avatar". It certainly seems as though Nemhain is not the only one who has her hand upon him, for Camulus seems to have blessed his sword as well, she thought, thinking of the renowned invincible sword of the famous god of war that was often worshipped by her people. Indeed, Camulus appeared to be with all of the Sarmatian knights, though they were not of his followers, for all of them seemed to possess uncanny skills with their swords.

With a smile, Caireach brought her attention back to the battle, and began to move, calling to Muireann as she headed towards Dayn.

"Muireann, help me herd them towards the Avatar!" With a nod, Muireann went left and Caireach went right as they began to maneuver the Saxons back in Dayn's direction. We'll kill a lot more of the enemy this way. As she fought, she was awestruck by the number of Saxons falling at Dayn's feet, unable to compete with the fey gleam in Dayn's eyes. Even covered in blood, Dayn fought on, knowing nothing but the blood-red haze of madness.


Hearing yells and the sound of steel clashing, Hummingbird's eyes lit up and she hurried in the direction of the noise, excited. I bet I'll find Papa there, she thought confidently. But when she reached the entrance to the garrison, she froze in a mixture of fear and horror. Flames seemed to stretch to the far reaches of the sky, and blood covered the ground where the wounded and dying lay where they'd fallen.

"Papa!" she cried, dismayed at the thought that her beloved papa could be among the dead. "Papa, where are you?" she sobbed, tears beginning to fall down her face. She hurried forward, blinded by the tears in her eyes as she searched for her father. Most of the fighting had moved further on, but she ran onward, heedless of the danger, wanting nothing but her father's arms around her.

She stumbled, tripping over a body, and suddenly found herself lying in a pool of blood from the fallen warrior's body. She climbed to her feet, crying loudly, as she wiped her hands vainly on her dress, only to find that her dress was bloodstained now as well.

"I'm scared," she whimpered, not even sure who she was talking to, but just wanting someone to make it better. Unknowingly, she continued forward, moving closer and closer to the battle.


Caderyn urged his horse, Chaos, to go faster, grateful for the stallion's swift feet as he raced back towards Hadrian's Wall, the pain in his side spearing through him, protesting the torment of the horse's gallop.

He prayed to the Goddess of Chance that time would be on his side, knowing that time was the one thing he had precious little of. Goddess, look on me favorably that I may find her before it is too late. He could feel the blood coursing down his side, a result of the wound in his side reopening, but he could only hope that he would be able to hold out long enough to find Hummingbird.

I made a promise to Vanora that I would find Hummingbird, and I cannot break my word. I would never forgive myself if anything were to happen to that child. Images of the little girl's cheerful face looking up at him with a mischievous grin as she beat him at various dice games filtered through his head, and his heart clenched painfully as he imagined life without Hummingbird. I have to find her.


Sweat poured down Lancelot's face, mingling with the blood of small cuts along his face, but he ignored the sting. His twin swords moved like lightning, slashing into Saxons, dealing death swiftly and mercilessly.

His eyes held the promise of death, and he had no other thought but the battle before him. He fought on without thought, as though by fighting he could purge his mind and his heart of all of the pain and the anger of friends lost, of blood shed.

His muscles burned with fatigue, but Lancelot knew it wouldn't be long before the battle was decided. Spotting Guenevere ahead of him in a fierce battle with a formidable Saxon, he watched her fall, and he sprinted forward. He'd lost sight of Arthur long ago, and he knew that if he didn't act, the girl would be killed. As convenient as it would be for me if she was no longer around to sway Arthur into fighting useless battles for a cause not his own, Arthur would be devastated if she were killed, and what kind of friend would I be if I knew I could save him that pain and didn't? Even Lancelot, who was hopelessly insensitive at times, could see the depth of Arthur's feelings for the wild-eyed Woad, even if Arthur himself couldn't see it. So, Lancelot found himself hurtling forward, dodging swords and shoving people aside in his haste to save her. And he reached her just in time to catch a downward blow aimed at her heart. His swords locked into place around the Saxon's blade, stopping its downward swing by wedging it between his own swords. Lifting his foot, he kicked the Saxon in the chest to break away and planted his feet steadily in preparation to fight.

Lancelot stared at his opponent, sizing him up, looking for weaknesses that he could use to his advantage. The Saxon stood before him, hairless except for the braided beard he sported. A scar marred his face, a new wound, Lancelot thought, judging from its appearance. The fur cloak he wore concealed his back and shoulders, hiding possible chinks in his armor from Lancelot's eyes.

Lancelot could see the impatience in the Saxon's eyes, and knew that the Saxon was going to make the first move. Suddenly, the Saxon lunged forward, his sword aimed at Lancelot's chest. But Lancelot was ready for it, and he swiftly sidestepped, swinging one of his own swords in a backhand slash as the Saxon's momentum carried him forward. The Saxon blocked the swing, however, blocking it with his shield, and following up the knight's blow with one of his own, using his shield as a weapon with which to strike Lancelot in the head.

Lancelot staggered, his ears ringing a bit from the blow, but he managed to jump back as the Saxon swung his sword. He tightened his grip on his swords and darted in quickly, coming up under the Saxon's guard and slicing deeply into the Saxon's side. The Saxon let out a cry of pain and outrage before he fell to the ground heavily, his shield dropping from his hand. Lancelot wiped at the blood that was streaming from a cut at the side of his mouth, wincing as he turned to ensure that Guenevere was no longer in danger.

"Lancelot, look out!" Guenevere screamed, her eyes wide with horror. He turned to see that the Saxon had risen and now stood behind him, his sword raised to catch Lancelot in a cross-slash. And Lancelot knew with a grim sense of his own fatality that he couldn't get his sword up in time to block the attack. But before the Saxon brought his sword down, he froze, his eyes portraying his shock at a blow that came from behind. He fell, never to move again, and Lancelot looked up to thank the knight or Woad who had saved him, only to feel his own eyes widen with shock as he saw who had come to his aid.

The Saxon man standing before him strode forward and jerked his sword free from Cynric's back with a look of disdain at the fallen Saxon. He nodded at Lancelot before he softly said, "Behind you."

Lancelot turned and brought up his sword in time to block another attack, but he quickly dispatched the enemy and turned back to face the Saxon who had saved him. But the man had moved away, and Lancelot watched with surprise and confusion as the strange Saxon continued to cut into his own people, slaughtering them without a second thought. He was helping, Lancelot realized incredulously, but he was struck by a stab of reality as he realized that no one would realize that the Saxon was helping them. Hurrying towards the man, he grabbed the Saxon's arm.

"Regardless of the fact that you fight with us, you still look like a Saxon, and it could very well get you killed!"

"What would you have me do? I cannot change that," the man replied in thickly accented Latin, his Northern Germanic accent coloring his words.

"Stay by my side." The Saxon nodded, seeing the wisdom in Lancelot's words and, impressed by the knight's skills, decided that remaining at Lancelot's side for the remainder of the battle would be no hardship. Together, the two warriors squared off against a sudden surge of Saxons.

"You never told me your name," Lancelot yelled as he parried a swing with one sword and brought his other up to slash through the armor of his opponent gut.

"Wulflaf." Lancelot nodded, right as the Saxon's eyes widened in alarm, looking past the knight as something beyond him. "Crossbow," he yelled, jumping at Lancelot in a vain attempt to push him out of the way. But the arrow hit, and Lancelot looked down to see an arrow protruding from his ribcage.

"Damn," he murmured, looking up at Wulflaf with eyes that were beginning to glaze with pain. He collapsed, and though Wulflaf wanted to check on the knight, he knew he couldn't afford to. He stepped forward, standing over Lancelot with his sword raised before him, defending the fallen knight from any who dared to come near.


Caderyn felt his heart drop as he caught sight of Hummingbird, bloodstained and crying as she stood in the middle of the battlefield. She dropped to the ground on her knees, shielding her head with her arms as Saxons and Woads met in a violent clash of steel and blood all around her. He drove Chaos onward relentlessly before he threw himself from the saddle and gathered the terrified little girl up in his arms. She recognized him immediately and wrapped her arms around his neck in a strangling hold. Caderyn wanted nothing more than to soothe the child, but there wasn't time. A Saxon ran for him, axe raised as he grinned maliciously at Caderyn, sensing the knight's predicament. He couldn't very well fight with a child in his arms, but neither could he put her down and leave her defenseless.

He swayed, weak and in pain, even as he and the Saxon began to circle one another. Caderyn knew with a pain in his heart that he would have to sacrifice Chaos in order to save himself and Hummingbird, and he swallowed the bile that rose in his throat as he whistled for the great stallion. While he backed away, he shifted until the horse stood between the Saxon and himself and Hummingbird just as the Saxon made his move.

"I'm sorry, my friend," he whispered. And somehow Chaos understood, Caderyn knew, even as the Saxon's axe pierced the stallion's left flank. Chaos promptly went down, managing to fall on the unlucky Saxon in the process. Pinned beneath the wounded horse, the Saxon was indefensible, and Caderyn took advantage of it, shifting his sword to bury it in the Saxon's heart. Meanwhile, the battle around them continued to move, as Woads chased the Saxons across the charred and burning fields.

Hummingbird slowly slid out of Caderyn's arms, and he faltered, falling to his knees as Hummingbird looked on worriedly. He crawled to the stallion, running his hand along Chaos' neck, soothing the dying horse.

"Are you hurt, Hummingbird?" he asked, looking at the little girl who stood before him. She shook her head, and threw herself at him, hugging him tightly. He groaned at the pain that shot through him as she unwittingly pressed against his wound. But he couldn't bring himself to push her away, and so he did the only thing he could. He rubbed her back, soothing her in the same way he soothed the horse.

"Is Chaos hurt bad, Caderyn?" Hummingbird asked tearfully.

"Yes," Caderyn murmured, watching as the horse jerked, and Caderyn's heart ached as he watched his beloved horse suffer. He lost track of time as they silently sat by the horse's side, until finally Chaos shuddered once more before falling still at last. Tears slid down Caderyn's face as he bid his faithful stallion goodbye. "Until we meet again, brother," he whispered to the horse, knowing that it was not goodbye forever, but feeling the pain of the stallion's loss cut deeply anyway.

Around them, the field slowly began to fall silent, until all was still but for the sound of the flames crackling over the still burning ground. Even the wounded seemed to have fallen silent, and Caderyn knew that the battle was over.

"Hummingbird, I'd like to take you to your father, but I don't think I'll make it that far. And I don't think you can carry me," he said with a faint smile.

"That's alright, Caderyn. Papa will come soon, and he'll help us." Caderyn questioned that, knowing that until Vanora spoke with Bors, no one would even know that the two of them were there. No one knew to look for them. But he didn't tell the hopeful little girl, because he just couldn't bring himself to dash her hopes. He leaned back against Chaos, slowly closing his eyes and succumbing to the darkness that beckoned.


Nemhain left Dayn as she always did—quickly and without warning—and Dayn found himself struggling to stay on his feet as weariness and pain beat at him. His leg, still not back to normal after his last injury, threatened to buckle under his weight, and the arrow wound in his chest was beginning to send shooting pains through him.

"Avatar, are you alright?" Caireach reached out and caught his forearm as he appeared to stumble. "Let me help you," she said softly. Muireann approached, offering to help as well, but Dayn waved her off. He reluctantly accepted Caireach's help, hating the weakness that forced him to take help, but knowing that he probably wouldn't be able to remain standing for long without it. "The arrow in your chest should be removed," she said, but he shook his head.

"Later. It'll only bleed more if we remove it now. Just break the shaft a bit, so it's not in the way." Nodding, she grasped the shaft of the arrow in both hands, looking at him with a worried look.

"This will hurt more than if I simply removed it."

"Just do what I ask," Dayn said wearily, not wishing to argue with the woman.

"Very well," she murmured, and with a firm grip, snapped the end off the shaft, sending sharp pain radiating through Dayn's chest. He groaned, fighting the darkness that threatened to overcome him. He took a few deep breaths, trying to steady the beating of his heart before he looked once more at Caireach.

"The other knights, know you anything of them?"

"No, I'm sorry," she murmured. "I fear we may hear of many friends who have fallen this day." Muireann shook her head as well, knowing nothing of the fates of the other Sarmatian knights.

Dayn leaned heavily on the Woad, as the pain and blood loss from numerous wounds began to take their toll.

"We have to find them," Dayn said.


A/N: Ok, everyone, this is it…this story will end here, but it will be followed up by a sequel which picks up right where this one leaves off. So I hope you stick with me, and continue to read and review for me! Oh, and in case anyone wants to know, Caireach is pronounced KEE-rek and Muireann is pronounced MEER-an.

Aelia O'Hession: Thanks again for your help with the gods—I really appreciated it, especially the little details you gave me about each one. They were very helpful in determining which one to use for my story. Camulus didn't make any actual appearances, but I hope you liked how I pulled him into the story. That one goddess you mentioned thoughMedbsounds like the patron goddess of Bors, doesn't she? LOL!

mimishell: Thanks for reviewing for me yet again! Aren't you just so excited that there's a sequel that you get to read too? LOL! J/K! I won't force you to, of course, but I'll strongly hint. And no, it wasn't wrong that you laughed at the phrase from the last chapter. I'm glad you enjoyed it enough to laugh.

Camreyn: I'm glad I'm not the only one who thought the bishop should have been killed in the movie. The rason Tristan and Dayn didn't check on the women is simply that they honestly didn't think there would be any trouble. Besides, they counted on Caderyn to protect them, which he did to the best of his ability. He'd have kicked butt if they hadn't outnumbered him. I really don't know why I always go back to the scenes with Dayn and Lancelot together…I guess it has to do with the fact that they're so often at odds, but yet they still come together when they need each other, you know? Like brothers. Anyways, I think I addressed most of your questions during the chapter. Let me know if I missed any. By the way, the upcoming sequel—that's all for you! You talked me into it, and it got my creative juices flowing a lot. I've come up with a lot of good ideas, so I expect you to stick around.

ModestySparrow9: So how did I do with Adima this time around? Thanks for letting me use her. Thanks for the compliments too, by the way—it made me feel really good about my writing. You've been doing a great job yourself, especially with your Phantom fic—I really enjoy reading your updates. Anyways, I'm taking a break from the LOTR fic because I didn't get a lot of response to my last chapter, and instead, I'll be focusing on the sequel to this one. But I'll get back to it eventually, since you've seemed to enjoy it.

chiefhow: I'm glad you're enjoying my story. And I'm glad you enjoy "scary Dayn" as much as I do—lol! Surprisingly enough, Hummingbird did actually go to bed, because she knew Bors was watching. Otherwise, she probably would have been wandering around all night.

MonDieu: Yeah, I'm quite fond of my characters myself. I added several new ones in this chapter, which will appear in the sequel, so I hope you like them as well.

Karina: Yay—a new reviewer! Glad you reviewed this time! I'm sorry you don't care for Dayn much…yeah, he's got some issues, but he's gonna start toning down now, because with the Romans gone, the subject of his hatred has been removed. The way I see it, he now has a chance at happiness, and some peace. Dayn's problem stems from the fact that he doesn't see the Romans as separate entities—the Romans are all the same to him, and so he hates them all equally because of what happened to his brother. Orainne is rather girly, and definitely fits nicely with Dayn—she's the yin to his yang, I guess you could say. She evens him out, calms him down a bit. And I'm glad you like the other knights I added. My favorite, besides Dayn, is Caderyn—I love him to death—so expect him to make appearances in the sequel as well. Even though you're not fond of Dayn, I hope you'll read the sequel. My focus will be shifting away from Dayn a bit, as I'll be focusing more on newer characters, so I think you'd enjoy it. Anyways, thanks for reading and reviewing for me!

KAfan: Glad you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks for that bit about Tristan's revenge being perfect—I was worried that he was getting the shaft in the revenge department. It seems that you're not the only one who enjoyed the Lancelot-Orainne scene…someone else mentioned that as well. Who knew? LOL. Anyways, thanks for the review!