Six
The group would have made it to their posts by dusk, but after Galahad became ill, they had to stop and make camp for a few hours. Once the soldiers decided to move on, Galahad was still vomiting and riddled with a slight fever.
"We can't go on, not yet!" Gawain said, as he kneeled by the sick boy. "He can't even stand on his own two feet!"
The leader of the soldiers peered down at Gawain with untrustung eyes. "That's what his horse is for, so he doesn't have to walk!"
"How far do you think he will last if you make him ride into the chilly night?" Dagonet asked sternly.
"That is no concern of mine, boy. In an hour, you will be at your posts and I will not be bothered with you anymore!" the captain spat back.
Galahad had slipped into a stage of delirium, and began mumbling incoherently as he grapsed onto Gawain's arm.
"If it's only an hour more's ride, then why can't it wait until at least morning?" Arthur asked calmly.
The leader grabbed Arthur's shirt collar. "I don not like the way you speak to me with such disrespect! I will not be ordered around by a bunch of damned kids!"
"And if the boy dies while under your care, how do you think your life will change?" Lancelot asked, his piercing eyes bright.
"You'll be demoted, stripped of your duties, and disgraced among the other knights," Tristan added. "You wouldn't want that, now, would you?"
"The boy could have died because of anything out here in the wilderness. No one would no any different tale!" the officier nervously chuckled.
Gawain stood by the other knights. "We would know."
"You wouldn't dare," the leader challenged under his breath.
"We would," Lancelot replied.
The soldier grunted with disgust and disbelief. He pivited his horse around and waved for the other soldiers that were down on the hill.
"Make sure you get them to the post outlet by tonight," the leader said. "I will go on ahead and inform the commander that the new recruits have arrived," he said as he passed them.
The brown-haired soldiers nodded curtly and walked thier pale white horse back to the boys. The chunkier of the two soldiers leaned over his horse to grab ahold of Galahad, when he found three swords in his face. Two of the swords were Lancelot's, and the other sword was Gawain's.
"Don't even think about it," Gawain said. "He stays here until he is well enough to ride."
The other soldier sighed heavily, easing himself back into his saddle. "I will give you until dusk to help him all you can, then we ride, you understand?"
Gawain nodded to acknowledged that he understood and resheathed his sword. Lancelot watched the two soldiers until they made their way to the other side of the forest floor, then, he too, resheathed his weapons.
The orange sun silently slipped into the blanket of the night, and the stars shown brightly in the sky, like tiny pin-prinks on a blanket of darkness. The knights had made a fire near Galahad and kept him hydrated. They even piled their cloaks on top of him to make sure he stayed warm. Tristan knelt by Gawain, who still stayed by Galahad's side.
"How does he fair?" Tristan wondered.
Gawain shook his head. "I think that his fever has broken, but he still sleeps as if he were dead."
Tristan placed a slightly clothed hand over the younger boy's head and cheek, feeling for his temperature. He sat back on one knee and sighed heavily. After a moment, he nodded, as if agreeing to something of himself.
"I think I know of a plant that may help this illness to pass," Tristan said.
"A plant?" Gawain asked, intrigued.
"It's like an herb plant," Tristan said, showing with his hand what the plant looked like. "We passed some in the forest earlier on. Someone needs to go and get some, or I fear for your friend."
"I will go," Gawain said, his voice soft, yet certain.
"No, I will go," called out Lancelot from behind the two. He looked at a questioning Gawain. "You stay with the boy. I will ride back and get the herb."
"Forget it," Tristan said, standing. "You would get lost if I let you go. I will get it."
Lancelot was dumbfounded and held a blank expression when Tristan up and passed him on his way to his horse. Lancelot followed him, and crossed his arm in front of his chest as Tristan mounted his steed.
"You'd better be quick about it, for those soldiers will be back for us shortly," Lancelot said. "Wouldn't want to have to come and save your sorry arse."
The dark haired boy's lips pursed out in a bubble lip, mocking Tristan somewhat. Tristan lifted an eyebrow, amused, before heading off into the forest to find the herb plant.
Once he had found the spot, Tristan had no trouble getting plenty of the plant for the sick boy. As he knelt and cut and placed the plant into his pouch, Tristan heard a crack of some branched, and then a low growling noise. Tristan froze where he sat, and reached for his sword. It was gone! He realized that he had left it back at his horse. The low growling came closer to Tristan, and soon the wild beast came into sight. It was a large wolf-like creature, with deadly claws and murder in its eye. Tristan cautiously backed away, as the animal made ready to spring at its new prey. As it did, Tristan jumped up and grabbed onto a tree branch. The branch dipped low, and Tristan's hands could barely keep their grip. The wolf growled openly and jumped up, trying to pull Tristan down by his foot. Tristan yelled and kicked the canine in the face. The dog whined as it stumbled backward, stunned for a moment.
"You want a piece of me for supper? Well, you'll just have to do better than that!" Tristan said, pulling himself up into the tree.
Suddenly, the branch that was supporting his weight snapped, and Tristan fell to the ground with a thud! Then, the forest beast was atop of him. Its strong jaws and dripping wet white teeth only inches from Tristan's throat. The only thing that kept him at bay was the branch Tristan had shoved into its mouth after the wolf jumped him.
Just then, as the branch began to snap, something was lunged into the gray wolf's back. The wolf howled with pain and fell onto its stomach, dead. Tristan grunted as he pushed the dead beast from him. He gasped to catch his breath and wiped his forehead with his sleeve. As he stood, Tristan had a look at what had killed the wolf. It was a smirking Lancelot.
"And you gave me a hard time!" Lancelot laughed, cleaning off his weapons on the ground and resheathing them at his backside.
"I did not plan on getting attacked!" Tristan said, walking forward. "I could have handled the situation you know."
Lancelot chuckled again. "I know, I know. But, since the fact of the matter was that the wolf was about to rip you to shreads, I would think you'd be a little more grateful for my saving you."
By time Lancelot had stopped talking, Tristan had already mounted his horse.
"Maybe so, but I must warn you about something, Lancelot," Tristan said. "I'd hurry and get back to camp before the rest of the pack shows up. I'd hate to see you in need of "rescuing" as you called it."
Tristan cracked a smile and rode onward, Lancelot running up behind him. "All right, ok, you win! So, will you give me a lift or what?"
Tristan chuckled, bemused. "All right, but I'm still driving."
Back at camp, the soldiers and the others had awaited Tristan and Lancelot's return.
"What's this, a tea party!" the chubbier, freckle-faced soldier laughed out. "Let's get a move on already!"
Ignoring the man's comment, Tristan used some water in Galahad's small bowl and mixed the herb plants with it. He asked Gawain to tilt up the smaller boy's head, so he could get some of the medicine down his throat. Galahad sighed and licked his lips. He was still half asleep, but was improving in health.
"Thank you, Tristan, Lancelot," Gawain nodded. "And, I'm sure Galahad would thank you, too."
"Just see that he gets more rest when we get to the post outlet," Tristan ordered, standing up again. "He'll need it, and in a few days, will be good as new."
Gawain rode with Galahad, so he would not fall of his own. The other boys mounted their horses and followed the two soldiers to the post outlet.
End, 'Six.'