Thanks to all the reviewers.
Ten
As Lancelot hurridly rushed him back to camp, Tristan went in and out of conscience. He could only remember look down at the horse's strong legs as it ran, and the thought of Lancelot's arm around his chest, holding him up on the horse. He couldn't understand how one man could care for him so much, that he would risk his life and try to save him. He didn't even know him, except for the formalities that is.
"We're almost there," Tristan heard Lancelot say at one point.
Nothing was making any sense to Tristan anymore. The poison still ravaged his body. As they approached camp, Tristan couldn't even make out the other men's figures or the flickering lights of their torches. His eyes opened and closed, open and closed. He still fought the sudden urge to sleep, as he felt Lancelot pull his partially dead weight from the horse.
Lancelot ordered two other men to carry Tristan back into his tent and stay near him until he came. A third knight walked up to Lancelot.
"What would you have the rest of us do?" he asked.
"Sleep well tonight, for tomarrow we ride to Hadrian's Wall," Lancelot answered.
"And, the wounded man?" the knight wondered.
Lancelot shook his head slightly. "I will see to him, thank you, my friend."
The other man patted Lancelot's shoulder and smiled before turning around and making his way back to the campfire.
As soon as the other knight left, Lancelot walked to Tristan's tent. He nodded two the two men to leave, and after they did, Lancelot went to Tristan side. He opened Tristan's eyelids with his fingers to check his eyes, and he lay his head on Tristan's chest to listen to his breathing pattern. It was weak; his breathing pattern was irregular. Lancelot pulled off Tristan's boots and stripped the knight of his armor, weapons, and tunic. He left only his pants on. At that point, Tristan's breathing had gone raspy. His body jolted now and then, trying to fight off the poison that flowed throught his veins.
Lancelot poured some water into Tristan's mouth, but he ended up spitting it out while coughing. Lancelot set the water flask aside and kneeled by Tristan's bed. He grasped the knight's hand and arm with his own. He could feel Tristan grasp his hand and arm back firmly.
"Come on, Tristan, you can beat this," Lancelot whispered.
Tristan's body twisted on the bed, and Lancelot lay over him slightly to hold him down. He looked into Tristan's face.
"It will pass, Tristan," Lancelot said. "It will pass because you are strong, and your life has been short. You are still needed in this world."
When Tristan still could not answer, Lancelot did something he thought he would never do. He looked upward and spoke to the heavens.
"God in heaven, whether by my will or Yours, You will not take this man yet," Lancelot shouted. "By God, he is not Yours to claim!"
When Lancelot finished, he had not noticed that Tristan's body had stopped quivering uncontrollably. He turned back to the knight at looked down at him. His eyes were still closed, but Tristan's breathing pattern had suddenly improved. A thin smile ran across Lancelot's lips.
"See, I told you it would pass, Tristan. I think you're going to be all right now," Lancelot told him.
When Lancelot began to stand, he was suddenly pulled back down by the bedside by Tristan. Though he still did not open his eyes, his lips uttered two words to Lancelot, "Thank you."
Patting Tristan's shoulder tenderly, Lancelot rose to his feet and left the scout's tent so that he may sleep off his fatigue...
Lancelot went back to Tristan's tent three more times during the night, for he feared that the sickness Tristan had carried would return unexpectedly. He had checked over and listened to Tristan's sleeping body those three times, and each time he was at ease with himself. The sickness had not returned.
Lancelot finally lay down on his bedroll a few hours before dawn and found sleep. It was a good thing, too. Tomarrow his men and he would venture northeast to Hadrian's Wall to meet with their new commanding officer...
Tristan opened his eyes and they locked onto the water flask beside him. Eagerly, he gulped down all the water. He sighed heavily and forced his body to sit upright. He had braced himself, expecting to feel pain all over his body, but there was none. He paused for a moment, expecting to feel the sickness within him, but their was nothing. Tristan noticed it was still dark outside, but knew it must still be near dawn. Swinging his legs over the bedside, Tristan stood and stretched. Minus his few sore joints, Tristan felt incredible.
Since it was not yet day, Tristan decided to venture down to the nearby stream and wash up a bit. He didn't know when he would next get to bathe, or when he had last time bathed. He smelled like some dead creature from the wild. Leaving his belongings in the tent, Tristan passed all the sleeping men as he walked off toward the stream. Kneeling on the bank of the stream, Tristan quickly washed up, splashing water on his face, chest, arms, and hands.
After washing, Tristan made his way back to his tent. Dawn was nearly upon them now. As he pulled back the tent flap, Tristan was slightly startled, but not surprised, to find Lancelot inside. The younger knight turned when he heard Tristan enter.
"Lancelot," Tristan nodded to him.
"I thought you might have left again," Lancelot said.
Tristan walked over to his belongings and began to pull on the rest of his clothes. "What, naked and unarmed?"
Lancelot chuckled, his dark curls bouncing on his head. "No, I suppose that would be even more foolish than trying to leave when your both wounded and deathly ill."
"Have you come to lecture me now?" Tristan wondered.
The knight sighed deeply. "No, I haven't, but would it do you any good if I would?"
"No," Tristan replied, pulling on his boots. He looked over at Lancelot. "Is this you happy face, Lancelot?"
"You could have died, Tristan, died!" Lancelot lashed out.
"But, I didn't," Tristan said, standing. "You saw to that."
"What you did was irresponsible and utterly foolish!" Lancelot added.
"Oh, so now I am a fool?" Tristan retorted. "Tell me something I don't know. I knew this was going to be a lecture."
Tristan resheathed his sword at his side and slung his bow and arrows around his back. Lancelot sighed again, and walked forward to him as he turned his back.
"I'm sorry...now where are you going?" Lancelot said.
"I thank you for your aid, now I will be off," Tristan answered, not turning around.
"Come with me, with us to Hadrian's Wall today," Lancelot said. "Once we get there, you can do as you please. But, it would please me even more if you would join us, knight."
Tristan turned to meet Lancelot's inquiring gaze.
"I don't think so," was Tristan's reply. "I've all ready lost all my companions, I will not lose more."
"You can't live in the past, Tristan. Let the dead bury the dead and come with us," Lancelot asked again. "We need you; I need you fighting by my side."
Lancelot held out his hand to Tristan. "So, will you join us, my friend?"
Tristan looked down at Lancelot's hand for a moment and blew out a sigh. Then, he nodded. "All right, I will travel with you."
Lancelot's smile brightened as he shook the other knight's hand. "Glad to hear it. We will leave here in an hour, so prepare."
With that, Lancelot exited the tent.
Tristan didn't lounge about during that hour, for he had two retrieve his horse and Illiana. His horse was easy enough to find, for it was the only pure white one of the bunch. After brushing out his horse's coat, he re-saddled it and mounted. Then, he whistled out into the new morning for Illiana. Lancelot, who had rode up beside him, followed the motion of Tristan's voice through the clouds. Within moments, Illiana soared through the air and landed on Tristan's extended arm. The bird lovingly nuzzled at Tristan's cheek, and he stroked the hawk's feathers.
"That is a fine hawk you have there, Tristan," Lancelot said with a smile. "Without her, I might have never found you in time."
Tristan nodded and continued to stroke his hawk.
"Are you sure you are well enough to ride?" Lancelot asked.
"I will not die from it, I promise you," Tristan responded.
Lancelot threw back his head and laughed. "Welcome back, my friend. I will see you later."
Tristan watched Lancelot as he rode to the front of the line of knights. He looked at his hawk again.
"What do you know about that, girl? He's not so bad after all, is he?" Tristan spoke to Illiana softly.
As Lancelot called out to the rest of the knights to ride, Tristan followed afterward. He didn't know much about this place they were traveling to. Hadrian's Wall, he thought to himself, what kind of name was that? Shrugging, Tristan started his horse into a nice, slow gallop after the knights that had all ready ridden ahead.
End, 'Ten.'