Authors notes: Thank you so much for wishing me well on my finals. As of today I am done so now all that is left is to await results…the anticipation is going to kill me. I hope the wait for this chapter wasn't too painful…anyway enjoy!
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Merlin stood on top of the hill watching the carnage that was unfolding on the plains below him. Arthur and his knights were going to be slaughtered, the fort would be overrun and all those within the fort would die. He would not allow that to happen. It was not concern for them, in truth their deaths would make his life much easier, it wasn't even decency or morals, the kind that prevented you from standing by and watching people being slaughtered. It wasn't any of these reasons, it was nothing to do with knights, it was a matter of revenge. Those monstrous figures were passing themselves off as woads hoping to bring the mighty legions of Rome here to destroy the woads with the intention to take over the vacuum of power.
Merlin's people had not escaped unharmed with a number of settlements being raised to a ground with no survivors. He would not allow them to continue doing so and Arthur had unwittingly aided the woads cause by distracting the monsters and causing them casualties. He was not one to pass up an advantage.
"Prepare to attack."
His lieutenant nodded and hurried back to inform the painted soldiers. He then returned to Merlin's side.
"What about Arthur?"
"Let them live, if they are defeated Rome will send much worse. Better the enemy we know."
The man nodded. Merlin raised his arm and with a cry they attacked as one.
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Lancelot slumped forward onto Demon's neck. The numbing liquid was wearing off and the pain was returning full force. His wounds were bleeding, he was losing more blood than his body could sustain and it was taking its toll.
"Lancelot!" Arthur cried as he saw the knight slump forward as if he had been hit by an arrow. He turned his horse towards the knight and forced it to move towards Lancelot. The woads sensed the knight was weak and attempted to drag him from Demon. However, the horse put up a resistance, biting and kicking any who dared to get near. Lancelot clung weakly to Demon's mane and tried to turn the horse and get away from the chaos.
Arthur's progress towards his best friend was agonisingly slow. Lancelot was becoming weaker and then he was suddenly no longer on the stallion.
"NO!" Arthur cried.
He tried to urge his horse faster but bodies surrounded them and the animal could barely move.
"LANCELOT!"
"ARTHUR!" a voice cried but it was not the voice he was looking for. It was Dagonet and before he could even attempt to respond a woadish war cry echoed through the air. As if everyone had heard the cry the battle seemed to falter. Arthur turned in despair expecting to see reinforcements joining the battle. He was not disappointed. Hundreds of woad painted warriors were charging down the hillside.
'Well if he was going to die he was going to die fighting to save his best friend.'
Luckily for him the soldiers he was fighting seemed equally surprised at the appearance of the woads and he was able to move quickly and easily through the melee.
"ARTHUR!" Tristan yelled and he turned to see the scout pushing his way towards him.
"Arthur the reinforcements are attacking the woads."
"What?"
"I thought I noticed something different about them. The ones we are fighting must be a rogue group."
Arthur frowned confused but then pushed it aside. As long as they were leaving his soldiers alone he did not care about particulars.
"Get everyone inside the fort and secure the gates as best you can."
Tristan nodded.
"I need to find Lancelot."
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Lancelot rolled to try and avoid Demon's flailing hooves. He felt many of the woads punch and kick him. Then eerily like before they stepped back.
"Come back for more then slave." The voice sneered and Lancelot dragged himself to his feet.
"I am no one's slave." Lancelot spat back.
"I beg to disagree."
"That's exactly what I expect of you. You know they always say the most dangerous creatures are those that are cornered and wounded, even then they aren't armed."
Adrenaline followed through him. He was dying but that meant he had nothing to lose. He was going to kill this man if it was the last thing he did.
The woad raised his sword and charged. Lancelot waited until the last moment to side step and bring his sword down across the man's back. His problem was that he was getting slower and the retaliatory thrust hit his flesh. He didn't even look as he spun around and danced a few steps backwards.
The duel continued as if nothing else in the world mattered and in truth it didn't. Blows were landed, the two stumbled and blood was shed. Time passed and it felt like an eternity; steps became slower, mistakes were made and sweat ran in trails down their dirty faces. Still they determinedly fought on.
Suddenly Lancelot's legs gave way. It was like his body had sailed past what he could tolerate and had simply given up. The sword fell from his hand.
"You see slave." The man snapped. "This is where you belong, on your knees before a Briton."
Lancelot turned his head up to glare at the man but even that took too much effort.
"Now you are going to die like the pathetic Roman you are."
"I AM NOT A ROMAN!" Lancelot snarled. "I AM A SARMATIAN."
"I don't care what you are. I am going to kill you nonetheless."
"Well quit the song and dance and fucking well get on with it."
The man raised his sword but Lancelot didn't close his eyes, he didn't look away. He stared straight at the man and challenged him to do his worst.
"NOOOOOO!" Arthur voiced screamed. Lancelot's face became sad.
'Not this time my friend. You cannot save me.'
He felt the sword enter his flesh. Frankly he expected it to be far more painful, perhaps his body had become accustomed to it? His body fell backwards but he barely felt any of it. On the horizon he noted that the first hint of the sun's rays peaking over the hills. Sunrise was the most beautiful time of the day, before the day got going and everyone awoke, when it was peaceful and the world remained untainted by blood, suffering and despair.
A warm metallic taste filled his mouth and he choked.
A blurry movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention and he noticed Arthur had arrived. The man looked frantic; Lancelot could tell he was yelling, pleading at him desperately.
'I am sorry Arthur, I am truly sorry.'
More people arrived, Tristan and Bors. They looked upset, extremely upset. He couldn't take all this emotion and he turned his eyes back towards the sun. His lips curved in a smile.
"Lancelot come and play." His sister said pulling on his hand. Lancelot shrugged his shoulders and clasped her hand tightly running down the hill as if he was ten again.
'Peace at last' he thought but unfortunately that was not the case. The world still had plans for him.
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