Title: A Woman Among Men
Author: sabor ice
Summary: Where did Vanora come from? How do she and the knights meet? How did she meet Bors and fall in love with him? This is their untold tale.
Disclaimer: I don't anything, etc, except for any orginal characters and this story.
Feedback: Yes, please.
To All the Reviewers: Thank you; your feedback is much appreciated.
Fourteen
Bors turned around on his heel just as another Woad came at him. He thrusted his short blades upwards, cutting the blue colored man across the face. The Woad grunted and collapsed to the ground. Galahad, who managed to mount his horse again, rode past Bors and pulled the burly man onto the back of his steed. Not having a long distance weapon such as a bow and arrow, or even a sword for fighting, Bors was vulnerable with just his chosen weapon, knuckle dusters. As Galahad wheeled about and directed his horse towards a group of Woads, Bors leaped off, landing on the enemy, belly first.
The two Woads he landed on were instantly wounded bythe weapons on his fists. Bors quickly stood as the other three Woads charged at him. He ducked as one swung his blunt blade toward him, and stabbed him in the back. The other two Woads tried to force Bors down as a team, but failed when Bors surprised them by dropping to his knees and impailing them both in the sides.
Lancelot was holding off the enemy with great ease as he cut them down one by one. His twin blades rested easily in the palms of his hands. A skilled, double-handed warrior, he could wield both swords in a consecutive motion without any trouble at all.
Arrows began raining down up the small group of Sarmatian knights. Lancelot struggled to see where Tristan was, but the scout had his hands full. Then, he noticed Bors had a free hand for the moment.
"Bors!" Lancelot shouted. "Archers!"
Bors nodded, immediately knowing what to do. He was a skilled hand-to-hand combat fighter, but he also had great accuracy when it came to shooting an arrow from a Sarmatian longbow.
Nocking his two arrows, Bors pulled back the string and released them into the surrounding trees. He continued doing this, taking all the Woad archers down in a matter of minutes. He grunted with satisfaction as he lowered the bow and exchanged it for his knuckle dusters once again.
The Woads looked as if they were beginning their retreat. Bors stood proudly, raising his fists into the air and yelling a war cry. Suddenly, an arrow struck his side. He looked up at a half-dead Woad, who was crouching nearby, just as the blue devil managed to release another arrow before he died. The arrow struck Bors in the chest with such a blow that it knocked him off his feet.
Laying on the ground now, he struggled to remove the first arrow from his side. He did it with little satisfaction, as the arrow tip broke off, still impailed with his skin. He cried out in pain and frustration as he wrapped his hands around the arrow stuck in his chest.
"No, Bors! Don't pull it out!" he heard Dagonet cry from a short distance away.
The knight barely heard his friend's words, for his own own screaming drowned out Dagonet. The blood was draining so quickly from his body that Bors didn't have the strength the yank the arrow from himself. A shadow passed over him, blocking out the sun from his vision. A Woad raised his weapon high and brought it down with one swift, solid movement.
"NOOOO!" Vanora screamed as she awoke in bed.
She lay back down an instant later, weeping, as another woman rushed to her side.
"Vanora? Vanora!" the woman tried to grab ahold of her flailing arms.
"Bors! Bors!" Vanora sobbed. "He's dead! I saw...I saw him killed!"
The raven-haired woman, who had been watching over Vanora during her pregnancy, embraced the young woman tightly.
"He's fine, Vanora. It was only a dream. Everything'll be fine," she hushed.
Vanora continued to wail and sob for half an hour, before finally calming herself down again. The woman acting as her nurse told her she must take care of herself and rest. Vanora was nearly eight months along now, and stress could cause birth complications. Sleep? How could she sleep? She had dreamt of Bors' death nearly every night since he left her side. Or, when she wasn't dreaming about his death, she dreamt of her child being born stillborn.
Her fingers traced the outline of her huge belly. How she longed for Bors to take her in his arms again. How she longed for him to place a hand or his head on her stomach and speak to the life inside of her.
A commotion outside drew Vanora to the door. She stepped into the light of the early evening as other patrons from town gathered. Mary, her raven-haired nursemaid passed out of the crowd and came to her.
"What's going on?" Vanora asked.
Mary smiled and had tears in her eyes.
"They're back, Vanora. The knight have returned!" Mary replied.
Vanora's heart leapt as she waddled from the hut and into the open where the knights could see her. Her prayers had come true; they had returned to her. Bors had returned to her. Her hands folded across her stomach, as each handsome knight came into view.
Dagonet was the first to see Vanora standing off to the side. He dismounted and quickly took her into a loving embrace.
"Dagonet!" she cried happily, a tear streaming down her face. "Gods be praised! You're all right!"
The broad-shouldered knight held her, yet did not say anything. Vanora didn't look back up at him, because her eyes searched for her beloved Bors among her other brave friends. The other knights dismounted and escaped the overbearing crowd. When the crowd subsided somewhat, she had a better look at the knights. It was then Vanora noticed that there were only six of them, including Dagonet.
Her light brown eyes looked over the others and then looked back to Dagonet for an answer. As Arthur stepped forward, a sad expression on his face, Vanora's heart sank.
"Where's Bors, Arthur? Where is my lover and the father of my child?" her voice began to break.
The knights all exchanged sad and worried glances. It was now that she fully understood.
"I'm sorry," Arthur managed to say.
Vanora shouted a curse word toward the commander as she physically attacked him out of grief.
"No! No! No! No!" she cried, beating Arthur about the chest.
He stood there taking her punches, until Dagonet tried to control her by pulling her away. She broke from his grasp and stood in front of Arthur, her face soaked with tears. Her knees weakened beneath her as she collapsed onto the ground. Her face was buried in her hands as she continued to wail and sob uncontrolably.
Arthur crouched beside her and placed his hands on her shoulders. She peered into his green gaze.
"What happened?" she hiccuped.
"He died bravely in battle, Vanora," Arthur claimed.
She gave him a deadly look.
"What happened?" she repeated.
"One of the enemy charged at him and they both tumbled off a cliff into the river valley below," Lancelot answered from behind Arthur.
"He landed in a river? Then, he could still be alive!" Vanora hoped.
"We scouted the area in and down the river, but the current thrashed so...no one could've survived the fall and then the river's current afterwards," Arthur added. "I'm sorry."
Vanora stood defiantly. "I'd don't believe you that Bors is dead. I just can't believe that. I won't believe that."
"Vanora," Dagonet started.
"No! I love him and I'm carrying his child! I won't believe he's dead!" she suddenly exhaled sharply.
Vanora looked down as a gush of warm water trickled down her legs and made a puddle around her feet on the ground. Her water had broke.
End, 'Fourteen.'
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