"True courage is not the brutal force of vulgar heroes, but the firm resolve of virtue and reason."-Whitehead

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A sharp cry rose up from the small horde of horses and riders. It was quiet against the loud shouts of the ruckus in the town, but loud enough to give Lancelot a chill. He turned sharply back to his comrades, startled.

"Galahad!" Gabrieal cried in surprise, horror evident on his pale face.

"He's been shot!"

"There's an arrow, look!"

"Gods! Who shot it?"

Arthur's eyes widened as he followed Lancelot to where Galahad's horse whinnied in anxiety, prancing in place.

Gawain had got there first, and he kneeled next to where Galahad lay. The Sarmatian's head was against the ground, but an ugly black arrow protruded from his back. Blood slowly oozed from the wound, staining the dirt.

"Did you see it happen?" Lancelot asked Gawain quickly.

"Just him fall. Tristan saw more than I." Gawain answered shakily. Lancelot knew that he and Galahad were good friends, hardly apart. Though Gawain was a full two years to Galahad's age, it didn't seem to matter.

"What do we do, Lancelot? We've only just arrived!" Gawain looked to Lancelot for help, and all Lancelot could think of to do was find Tristan. He cursed himself for his inability to do anything but complicate the situation.

"Wait!" Shouted a voice suddenly.

Arthur pushed past Lancelot and knelt before Galahad. "He's still breathing! See?" He pointed to the arrow. "It missed his heart. And it didn't go in deep either. You could almost pull it out..."

"You don't want to be doing that." Tristan voiced his opinion from behind Gawain. Lancelot didn't even ask himself how he had gotten there without being noticed. He was already surprised by the Roman's knowledge. His feeling of stupidity rose, and had he not been so concerned for Galahad's well being, he would have felt utterly embarrassed.

Arthur looked up at him. "And why is that?"

"Because we have nothing to stop the bleeding." Tristan remarked, studying Galahad, he frowned. "And you have no healing experience."

"Not true!" Said Arthur defensively. "My grandmother was a healer and she taught me a little! And besides I have the authority here!"

"Ha!" Taunted Bors from atop his horse. Arthur's eyes flashed as he looked up. "How old are you, anyway?"

"I am fourteen years old, and soon to be your commander!"

"I am seventeen years old and they expect me to listen to a BOY? It's-."

"Ssssssssh!" Lancelot hissed loudly, catching a faint groan from Galahad.

"I'll fetch someone!" Someone shouted, but Arthur stood up quickly.

"No! You'll get killed if you go out there!"

"He needs help!" Dagonet protested, coming out of his shell a little bit.

A moments silence.

Lancelot was at a complete and utter loss of what to do. Galahad was stirring, and it was clear that he would need immediate attention to his wound.

"I'll go." Arthur suddenly said, sound hesitant. "Yes. I will go."

"You'll get killed!" A Sarmatian shouted.

"It's my job to value your lives over my own! And I intend to do my job, and do it right! He needs help, and I will go and get it." Arthur said forcefully.

"You are not yet commander." Said Tristan, looking at Arthur. "It is not yet your job."

But Arthur shook his head. "It is my job. Your commander or not."

Lancelot stood also. He remembered his first meeting with Galahad, and swallowed a lump in his throat. "I will come too."

Arthur turned to him. "No, you stay. It's not your j-"

"That doesn't matter. He is my friend." Lancelot would not take no for an answer. Clicking his tongue to call over his horse, he grasped the reins.

Arthur did not look pleased with this, but he seemed to accept it. "I do not have my horse to ride..."

Tristan stepped forward, handing Arthur reins. "You can take mine. I will watch over Galahad with the others, I have a small knowledge of training." Arthur nodded his thanks, and Tristan looked up at Lancelot. "Remember the hill."

Lancelot was puzzled by his words, but tried not to show it. He expected that Tristan meant the hill they had seen months ago, but then again with the other knight you never could be sure.

Quickly he mounted as Arthur did the same, and they urged their horses into a fast gallop towards the burning town.

Black smoke rose up from a building. Lancelot stole a quick glance at Arthur, and was not surprised to see the Roman fighting back tears.

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A/N: Ok, please review! I only got two last chapter...So I dunno, are people just not interested anymore? Updates won't come fast if nobody reviews, just because I won't want to continue writing something nobody wants to read...

Camreyn- I'm glad you liked the situation, and you're right, it'll strengthen the connection between Arthur and his knights. Thanks for reviewing! 

WildRose- I can see Lancelot doing the same thing! I'm glad you're enjoying the story, and thanks for reviewing! 

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