Honor Him

"Rome has issued a final order for you and your men." Who would've known that eleven little words would cut so deep? Arthur, who had fought in countless battles had felt the edge of a sword against his skin many times. And yet, none had wounded him as deeply as the cutting edge of Germanius' statement. How, in the name of God, was he going to tell his knights? And how were they going to react?

As Arthur made his way through the crowds, he heard Vanora singing. "We will go home, singing our song, we will go home…"

Oh God, this was going to be harder than he thought. In the darkness of the night, the faces of his knights were visible through dim candlelight and shadowed moon. Shining on their faces was the vision of freedom and home. No more blood…no more death.

There was silence throughout the courtyard as Arthur grimly told his knights of Rome's last quest for them. Bors and Galahad had echoes Arthur's shock and dismay. Tristan, Gawain and Lancelot had kept quiet. And Dagonet had readily agreed to follow Arthur.

"The Romans have broken their word. We have the word of Arthur. That is enough." Arthur was thankful for Dagonet's unspoken but visible loyalty.

Needing some time alone, Arthur stalked off into the night, and into the one place he could find solitude. There in the stable, Arthur closed his eyes and whispered, "Oh merciful God, I have such need of Your mercy now. Not for myself, but for my knights, for this is truly their hour of need. Deliver them from their trials ahead and I will pay You a thousand fold with any sacrifice You ask of me. And if in Your wisdom You should determine that sacrifice must be my life for theirs; so that they can once more taste the freedom that has so long been denied from them, I will gladly make that covenant. My death will have a purpose. Watch over my knights and grant them peace in a lifetime of war. I ask no more than that." Arthur closed his eyes and wished to the heavens above that God had heard and would heed, his prayer.

The next few days had seemed unbearable. They had faced wind, rain and sun. Not once did they stop to rest. The knights rode with the scorching sun on their back during the day and with the soft shimmer of the moon at night. The ride itself had been rather uneventful, until the night before they reached their destination.

Tristan had noticed that they were being followed by Woads. But before Arthur could concoct a plan, they were ambushed. Woads cut off their retreat and circled around them. The blue demons were a vision of an unholy death.

"What are you waiting for?" yelled Gawain, mocking the Woads.

Then, as silently as they had come, the Woads retreated back into the shelter of darkness, the foliage of the trees shadowing their steps.

The band of knights then rode onto Marius Honorius' villa, where the serfs followed them with hooded eyes. There was an unspoken question in the air as the knights rode through: were they friend or foe?

Arthur gazed down on Marius' head and saw through him right away. Marius was a weak man, blinded by greed and wealth. Arthur knew he would cause trouble, but even he could not tell the streak of evil that ran through Marius' black heart.

On the day of their departure, there was an eerie and hushed atmosphere that foretold doom. People spoke in whispers and kept glancing at a lone stone building. Two monks under the supervision of Marius' soldiers were fortifying the door. Obviously Marius wanted whatever that was inside to stay.

Arthur took one look and unsheathed Excalibur as he jumped down from his horse. As he examined the door that was held shut by bricks, he nodded at Dagonet. Without hesitation, Dagonet withdrew his axe, and after letting out a grunt, the wall fell before him, revealing a locked wooden door. Dagonet looked once more to his commander before kicking the door down. A putrid smell of decaying flesh reached his nostrils, and as the knights made their way down, it was obvious that they had entered the devil's domain.

Dark Latin chanting wafted through the cold air. Arthur looked around in disbelief. How could his God allow this? Even Lancelot berated Arthur's God. "The work of your god? Is this how he answers your prayers?"

The knights took in the scene around them. Both sides were covered with dungeons. There were rotting bodies and skeletons everywhere. Every movement that the knights made was followed by sunken, hollow eyes that belonged to the dead. They jeered the knights with gaping, toothless mouths, their gaunt ribs rising and falling with each intake of air.

Dagonet strode over to the left side of the dungeon, opening each cell. His heart leapt into his throat as he gazed into the frightened eyes of a young boy. He lifted the child out and warned him, "You must not fear me." His scar gave him a more ferocious look then what he was really like. Dagonet picked up the feverish boy and took him out of the dungeon and into the world above. The snow that was falling melted on the child's feverish brow as he squinted and tried to shield his eyes from the too bright sun.

Dagonet was overwhelmed from finding the young child, that the rest of the day was a blur to him. He recalled spending time in the wagon, nursing the boy back to health. Brave boy. Then he remembered how he stayed by Lucan, the child, at night, protecting him to make sure he wouldn't be harmed. Dagonet had placed his armor on Lucan for added warmth, and after Lucan fell asleep, he stayed awake, staring into the cloudless sky.

The next morning, Dagonet awoke with a start. He was forcefully lifted by two of Marius' soldiers while the rest threatened him. Marius himself dragged Lucan from the safety of Dagonet's makeshift tent and held the blade of a knife against Lucan's throat. As Dagonet was trying to get to Lucan, the girl they had rescued yesterday, Guinevere, killed Marius, saving Lucan's life.

Afterwards, Dagonet tried to keep a close eye on Lucan, staying as near to the wagon as possible. However, as they were crossing the ocean of ice, Saxon drums were heard beating in the distance. Dagonet knew in his heart what would happen next. He watched Arthur's back intently, his mouth in a grim smile.

"Knights…" said Arthur in a beaten, weary voice.

Dagonet himself was tired of running away. He heard Bors and his comrades echo his thoughts. As Arthur looked at him, Dagonet smirked, a shadow of a smile of a killer. "Here. Now." His smile told Arthur that he could always count on him.

Arthur's knights stood as a solid line across the ice, a threat to the Saxon army. Wind blew ice and snow into their faces. Their cloaks whipped around their knees. The snow below the Saxon's feet crunched as they were trod upon. The knights fired arrows at the Saxons as they marched towards them. The ice was cracking, but not enough to pose as a threat. Arthur became worried. His plan wasn't working. "It's not going to crack. Fall back. Fall back! Prepare for combat!"

Dagonet picked up his sword and felt the weight of it in his hands. How he prayed that it would be the last time he would ever need to feel the heftiness of his blade. He wanted to end this. Now. No more wasting time. The preliminaries had to stop. He looked around him. He wanted to save his friends so that they could go back home. In his mind and heart, Dagonet knew that this may be his last battle, in more ways than one. He dropped his sword, grabbed his axe and charged forward, exerting a force that would've knocked over an ox.

"Dag!" yelled Bors.

"Cover him!" Only Arthur seemed to know what Dagonet was trying to accomplish.

Dagonet struck the ice with his axe so that cracks started to form. Not good enough. He felt the arrows whiz by, striking cold air instead of flesh and bone. Dagonet swung his axe harder, and this time, he struck water. But, the Saxon arrows found their target too. Dagonet lifted his axe one last time. The arrows that were lodged in his side restricted his movement. He didn't care. Just one last swing, and this would all be over. The nightmare would have been concluded. The force of the swing caused the ice to fully break; but as more arrows flew at Dagonet, he lost his balance and fell into the icy water. Before Dagonet lost all senses, he felt Arthur pull him back up and Bors yelling at him. Dagonet took one last breath before he plunged into eternal darkness.

When he opened his eyes once more, Dagonet couldn't find Arthur or Bors or any of his friends. They were all gone. He looked into the distance and saw his childhood home as he had left it. His brothers and sisters raced towards him and his parents…oh his parents. They beamed at Dagonet and raced towards him. Dagonet blinked back tears that sprung from a hidden well. After all these years, he was finally home.

Meanwhile, his friends gathered around a freshly dug grave with a sword placed at the head. Gawain stepped forward and placed the box that held their papers of freedom at the foot of Dagonet's grave. "Goodbye, old friend. We'll be along soon." They were all grieving for Dagonet, their gentle soul.

Arthur spoke in hushed tones to the people who had gathered around. "Dagonet saved our lives. We owe our freedom to him, for it came at a great price. He had something to save. And that was us. Was that worth dying for? No." Arthur paused, his voice broken by tears.

"We could not save him from dying this time, but we can keep him from dying again. For if we do not remember what he has done, is that not death itself? He was a soldier of Rome, a knight of Sarmatia. Dagonet was our brother-in-arms." Arthur stopped talking and looked around at those listening. Tears glistened in his eyes, yet they refused to fall. He took in a shaky breath, looked up at the sky and back down to Dagonet's grave.

"Honor him."