"She said he would watch right here," said the villager helplessly, pointing at the tree Arelenne had been perched in just moments before. "She said she wanted to watch when she finally got rid of you!"
Tristan spat in disgust at the revelation, turning to Arthur with abject distaste. "The whelp probably ran off when she saw you did not fall for her scheme," he said. "Let us not waste any more time on her games, my lord. We should just hope that she does not come back."
"I do not believe she would be so cruel," said Arthur, but there was much hesitation whilst he said this. "Perhaps she merely sought to…"
"Sought to what?" cried Tristan. "She tried to get you killed! Even we knights do not venture past the walls when it is dark; what hope would a man who has been here for mere days have?"
Some feet away, Percival was crouched low and peered at something intently in the dark. "Enough, Tristan," he bade his friend, beckoning them forth urgently. "I think Arelenne may be in trouble."
He straightened then, a torn bit of the blonde hair in one hand and the broken blade of a Woad in the other.
Arthur swore softly under his breath as he stared at the items, bidding the villager return to the barracks and call his knights to him. The man lost no time in doing so eager as he was to regain good favor and was soon on his horse and disappearing over a small hill.
In the meantime Arthur turned to Tristan, saying that they three should search for the tracks leading away.
"The blood is still wet," said Arthur, fingering Arelenne's hair. "They cannot have gotten far."
They looked for broken bits of branches and crushed leaves, and sure enough it was Tristan who found the trail. "They were dragging her," he said, pointing out the disturbance. "It looked like she might've been unconscious."
"Or dead," fretted Percival, and Tristan had the grace to look ashamed.
"She is not dead," said Arthur in no uncertain terms, and whistled for their horses to attend them. "We will be faster than they on foot; we can still catch them."
They mounted their horses and Tristan took the lead, Arthur taking the last post. He did not know what the forest hid at night, and he did not wish to risk another youth taken from his charge.
Thus they rode, quietly and swiftly in the darkness, for long minutes. The underbrush was thick and they traveled only by the light of the moon, and it was by Tristan's skill only that they did not get lost.
Presently they came to the edges of what seemed to be a small campfire, smoke curling from beyond the cradle of trees.
Tristan rode back to them and motioned for quiet, the three knights dismounting from their horses. "Woads," he whispered, once they had come closer together. "I see them and I smell their meat roasting on a spit."
"How many?" asked Arthur. "Can we go round them?"
But Tristan shook his head. "Arelenne is by the fire; she isn't moving," he said. "This is where we must be fighting against more than two dozen Woads."
Arthur's mouth twisted. "We cannot defeat them and we cannot spirit him away; they know the forest far too well for that," he said.
"We should leave and come back with the other knights," Tristan said. "I can find my way back to this place, but the others would be lost without a guide."
"We cannot risk leaving Arelenne here lest they kill her," said Arthur, shaking his head. "We have only one alternative."
"And what is that, my lord?" asked Percival, who had been quiet thus far. "Shall we stage a rescue here and now?"
Arthur shook his head. "I shall wait here while you two collect our forces," he said. "If they move to slay her I shall create a distraction and hopefully hold them off til you arrive."
"The risk is too great," said Percival. "They will kill you if they catch you!"
"You have your orders," Arthur said. "Carry them out and fear not for Arelenne and I. The Lord shall protect us."
Tristan looked to argue but his captain's tone brooked no argument. "Very well," he said, shaking his head.
He made his way with Percival back from whence they came, riding their horses as quickly as they dared. They feared for their brother no matter his inexplicable lack of judgment, and for their captain's life also. They did not wish either of them to fall.
Arthur meanwhile crouched low upon the earth, moving quietly closer to the camp. The Woads were chanting in their odd tongue, roasting meat from a spit and keeping fiercesome guard.
Arelenne had been tied securely with thick vines, a cut above her eye flowing freely. Arthur worried for her for a moment, then realized that the young knight had begun to stir.