Authors notes: Thank you for the reviews. Finals are next week so the next chapter could be delayed until the week after…sorry! Hope you enjoy!
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Jols strode through the passageway angrily muttering various insults along the way. Behind him were thirty men and some women who were all willing to fight. He had gathered together the other squires who were attempting to collect loose horses and weapons. Anger was building within him and either Lancelot or the woads were going to be on the receiving end. He decided Lancelot could wait; he had woads to deal with first.
They entered the courtyard to see Lancelot stood next to Plautius holding Demon.
"Are you trying to give yourself a spectacular death?" Jols questioned indicating the prancing animal.
"You know me, not one for the subtle things in life."
The knight looked around and then back at Jols.
"Is that all you could get?"
"How many did you think were down there? Any more and we would have had to bring out the old men who would be more of a hazard to us than the woads."
Lancelot sighed and turned to Plautius.
"Help me up." He commanded. The centurion turned a long suffering expression on the Sarmatian. With a little shoving Lancelot was mounted. He had on a few bits of leather armour but he was mostly unprotected. Clutching a sword he turned to face the others.
"ARTHUR IS HERE BUT WE NEED TO WORK TOGETHER TO DEFEAT THIS ENEMY. EACH ONE OF YOU NEEDS TO STAND STRONG AND FIGHT HARD. THIS WILL NOT BE EASY BUT WE WILL TRIUMPH. VENGENCE WILL BE OURS!" Lancelot cried hoping the cry was rallying but he knew he was not as good as Arthur.
Plautius and Jols had mounted as well. With a nod from Lancelot they moved through the damaged gate onto the chaos of the battlefield.
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Arthur swung Excalibur killing two woads before turning a feral look on the next unfortunate foe. The woads were everywhere. This battle was never going to be won; the woads were swarming all over them.
"ARTHUR!" he heard Bors yelling. As soon as he could he turned to see the knight waving at the fort. Following his frantic beckoning Arthur looked to see movement at the gates. To his amazement Lancelot was riding out followed by the scruffiest looking bunch of soldiers he had ever seen. The knight had obviously rounded up all that could fight. With a Sarmatian war cry that was surprisingly echoed by those with him they charged into the fray and that was the last Arthur could see of them. A large woad stumbled into him and he was drawn back into the fight.
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Lancelot spurred Demon into a gallop and smiled in satisfaction as the animal eagerly responded. The stallion trampled any who came near them. Demon was vicious, rearing and bucking whenever a woad was in range. Lancelot's sword slashed and hacked. Although it lacked the usual power that the knight was able to wield, it was still extremely effective.
He glanced around and tried to pick out any of his fellow knights. Bors was relatively easy to hear with his Sarmatian curses and bellows but the other knights were less easy to spot. Turning Demon his eyes immediately sighted Arthur and the roman was about to be swarmed by woads. With a sharp kick the grey stallion ploughed through the woads as if they were strands of corn. Lancelot reached the roman and nearly bowled him over.
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Arthur barely managed to jump out of the way as a grey horse knocked over the woad that was about to impale him. Looking up he saw his saviour was Lancelot. Before he could say a word Lancelot had wheeled his horse about and was yelling a Sarmatian cry calling for the mustering of soldiers. Arthur realised what he was trying to do, they were far too scattered to be able to inflict more than superficial casualties. They needed to withdraw, regroup and about face as quickly as possible.
Before he could do anything Lancelot had hold of him and was attempting to get him aboard his horse which the roman suddenly recognised was that monster of a horse from the stables. Realising that Lancelot was injured Arthur swiftly pulled himself aboard and the horse took off. They raced back towards the fort where he saw a couple of lads run out with a group of horses. With a start he realised that Lancelot had planned this well.
However, despite this it was still going to be extremely difficult to try and regroup everyone.
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Tristan surveyed the battlefield from his position up a tree. Gawain was still battling to try and keep the woads away from the downed Galahad but he would not hold out for much longer. Bors and Dagonet were clearing a small path around themselves and it appeared that the woads were looking for easier targets. The Romans had for the most part grouped together and were putting up adequate resistance but it was only a matter of time.
Then he heard a familiar war cry and looked to the fort to see a very dishevelled Lancelot mounted on a frisky grey horse. He was leading some of the men from the fort and Jols. Shaking his head he descended from the tree, Lancelot was a stubborn as a mule and he would never give up.
He headed for Gawain's position determined to prevent Galahad's untimely demise. It didn't take him long to get to them, it never took a determined Tristan long to get anywhere.
"Glad you could join us." Gawain said breathlessly. The blonde knight looked dead on his feet.
Tristan shrugged. "Didn't want to spoil your fun."
Gawain rolled his eyes.
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Plautius grabbed Jols as the squire fell from his horse with an arrow in his shoulder. The squire's momentum caused him to stumble backwards. He regained his footing and dragged Jols unceremoniously across the ground. Luckily for them they had been near the fort and a couple of women quickly appeared at the gates entrance. Plautius handed the squire over and hurried towards Lancelot. He noticed Arthur, Bors and Dagonet were also mounted, ready to charge again.
A motley group were clustered around them, not nearly enough to make a difference.
The grey horse Lancelot rode was still prancing around, throwing its head about and foaming at the mouth. Arthur was speaking to him and the knight was answering but all the while he was looking around the battlefield as if trying to spot someone.
"We need to retreat." Lancelot was saying. "We can hold out in the fort longer than out here."
"We are too widely dispersed to get everyone back in. They will be slaughtered as they retreat."
"What are we waiting for?" Bors snapped. "There are woads to be killed."
Lancelot looked to Arthur and shrugged. They were all out of ideas. Arthur raised his sword and the knights charged into battle crying out their individual tribal war cries. Lancelot headed for someone in particular. He was no ones slave.
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