Four

As Galahad rode back to town, he eyed Tristan as the scout headed off in the opposite direction, down the south road. He paused for a moment, his eyes darting from the road he was on to the one Tristan traveled. As soon as Tristan was far enough ahead, Galahad began to follow him. He knew the knight's sense of hearing was sharp, so Galahad kept back, a half a mile between them. The young knight noticed that his steed kept faultering in his footsteps, signaling to Galahad the animal's exhaustion. He was tempted to turn back and refresh his horse in town, but then, Galahad would lose Tristan's fresh trail if he did.

Urging his horse on, Galahad had to make up for the lost time. He had too keep up his pace now, so not to lose sight of fresh tracks. The snow was lightly drifting now, and made the horse tracks almost unrecognizable to the searching eye. As soon as the snow had settled on the ground once again, Galahad had better view of what was ahead of him.

"I swear there really are ghosts," Galahad said to himself. "Damnit, why does Tristan always have to be right about things like that!"

When Galahad heard the soft neighing of Tristan's horse nearby, he quickly dismounted and hid from sight. Peering out from behind a small statue, Galahad saw Tristan walk into yet another omnious place of unparticular interest to the younger knight.

"The graveyard," Galahad muttered silently. "It had to be the graveyard!"

He quickly quieted once Tristan came into clear view again. The knight kept his back to the bottom of the ancient stone statue, while turning his torso so to have another glimpse. Tristan was knelt before a cross and a fresh grave. Galahad swallowed hard, his heart racing with anticipation. The scout wiped the snow from the engraved letters on the cross. Then, he bowed his head toward the grave and began to weep. Galahad gasped softly, for it was the first time he had witnessed Tristan cry, let alone express emotion at all!

The older knight's head snapped upward and stared in Galahad's direction. The knight had plastered himself against the stone statue and held his breath, praying that Tristan wouldn't find him there. After a few moments, Galahad had conjured up enough courage to look again. By then, though, Tristan had gone.

Galahad stood slowly and cautiously crossed the graveyard. He crouched in front of the grave Tristan had wept at. Wiping the rest of the snow from the name on the marker, Galahad sighed deeply. It read 'Percival.' He nodded, remembering very well the few days past when Percival, his friend and fellow knight, had been buried here. He whispered a prayer under his breath and stood.

The wind had picked up again as Galahad made his way back to his horse. He wrapped his cloak tightly around him and rode back to town. Galahad hadn't passed Tristan at all, so he was somewhat relieved. He guessed Tristan wouldn't return quite yet; he wouldn't want to let anyone know he had wept, wept for Percival.

As the knight neared town, a sudden sense of urgency rose in his soul. Ahead he could see his worried fellow knights. He knew something terrible must have occured. His first notion was that it was Tristan. Galahad's heart sank as he raced to the group of men, who now seemed to be carrying someone. Galahad felt gravely ill all of a sudden as he reached the group inside one of the tents. He speculated from off to the side as the men worked on a fellow knight. It was not Tristan, though. It was Gawain. The long-haired knight had been struck through the shoulder and left flank by arrows.

"What happened?" Galahad demanded to know.

"Bloody woads attacked 'em! Didn't even see them coming!" Bors shouted in response.

A flare of anger rose within the youngest knight. Gripping the hilt of his sword, he turned and made his way outside. By then, Tristan had returned on his horse. The scout had returned; the scout always returned.

"Where are you going?" he asked Galahad from his perch.

The young knight did not even look up at the scout, but continued on his way. Tristan, insulted, brought his horse around in front of the enraged Galahad.

"Let me pass, Tristan!" Galahad said.

Tristan did not move.

"I said let me pass, damnit!" the youngest knight repeated impatiently. "Gawain was wounded by those damned rogues, the woads! I will see justice be done upon them now!"

"By getting yourself killed?" Tristan questioned. "Lay down your sword, Galahad, for this is not a fight you can win."

"Gawain may die because of them!"

"All the more reason for you to return and be by your friend's side."

"It is not up for you to tell me what to do!"

"You're right, I'm not telling you what to do. I'm telling you what not to do."

Galahad managed to swirve around the knight and his horse and begin to stalk away.

"You're actions are foolish, knight! You know what I say is true!"

The younger knight froze in his tracks. His shoulder were slouched inward as he turned on the balls of his feet to face the scout.

Galahad's eyes defiant. "At least I'm risking my life to serve justice for Gawain. What did you ever do for Percival?"

Tristan's eyes were piercing. "That comment, I will not accept, knight."

Galahad smirked as he also was holding back sullen emotions. "Now, I was only speaking the truth."

As Galahad turned away once again, Tristan dismounted behind him.

"Stand down now, boy, or I'll be forced to act on your behalf," Tristan said in a low voice.

A chuckle escaped Galahad's lips. As he turned back again, he was suddenly hit in the head from behind. Galahad dropped to the ground, knocked unconcious.

When Galahad awoke, his first thoughts revolved around what had happened. Suddenly, he shot upward. He felt the bulge on the back of his neck and sighed. Tristan really wasn't kidding when he said he would take action. Did it have to be so drastic, though, Galahad wondered. Then, he remembered why he had been hit. He was trying to leave to find woads and kill them or be killed.

"Gawain!" he shouted, looking around frantically.

He had obviously been brought into a tent after his encounter with Tristan. Jumping to his feet, Galahad peeled back the curtain and laid his gaze upon Gawain. The knight was deathly still, yet looked peaceful. Tears began to well in Galahad's eyes as he approached Gawain.

"He lives," came Tristan's voice as he entered the tent. "And, I see you will, too."

As Galahad was about to speak, he felt Gawain squeeze his hand lightly.

"Galahad," the long-haired knight whispered.

Sitting down on a stool beside Gawain's bed, he was relieved to hear the knight speak. Galahad looked back, but Tristan had all ready left the tent. Although tempted to follow him once again, Galahad decided to stay with Gawain for now.

End, 'Four.'