Chapter 12: The Hurts from the Past

Elizabeth blinked her eyes as light poured into the room. She protested to the light and moved slightly on the bed. She gave a yelp as she slid off the side. Lancelot sat bolt upright, a sleepy look on his face. He looked over the side of the bed and upon seeing her on the floor, started laughing. Elizabeth threw a pillow at him and grinned. She climbed back onto the bed and sat next to Lancelot.

"I have an odd feeling that today is going to be yet another very interesting day," she said.

"And why is that?" Lancelot asked, playing with a strand of her hair.

"I don't know. I can tell from my dreams sometimes," she said.

Lancelot raised his eyebrows and smiled.

There was a knock at the door and Lancelot jumped off the bed and took cover underneath it. Elizabeth chuckled to herself and, shaking her head, opened the door. There was no one there. She looked down and found a cream colored envelope at her feet. She picked it up and shut the door behind her.

"All clear?" came Lancelot's muffled voice from under the bed.

"Aye."

Elizabeth straightened her nightgown and sat on the bed. She opened the letter and Lancelot watched over her shoulder. The letter was written in blue ink. The handwriting was curvy and exquisite. Her eyes ran back and forth as they followed the lines of the letter. Her face turned red and she dropped it to the floor. Lancelot picked it up and looked at her questioningly.

"Merlin wishes to see me for questioning," she said, a melancholy expression settling upon her features.

"And what exactly is the matter with that?" Lancelot asked, slightly confused.

"He is going to ask about my father and the Rebels. What if he thinks wrong of me for being related to so many Rebels?"

"I'm sure he won't," he said comfortingly.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. Merlin did not forgive very easily. She was hoping this was just a matter in which he would ask her opinions. However, she highly doubted it. She sighed.

"I'd better get ready. The letter said as soon as possible," she said with a meaningful look at Lancelot.

"What?"

She shook her head at the door.

"Oh! I get it," he said with a mischievous grin.

He pulled his boots on and started to head out the door and stopped. He ran back and gave her a kiss before leaving once again. Elizabeth shook her head and laughed. She walked over to her chest and pulled out a pair of light riding pants and put them on. She then donned a light weight shirt and finally yanked her boots on. She combed out her hair and threw cold water on her face. She didn't need to look perfect. She'd hopefully be able to rest today. She buckled her sword around her waist and headed out the door, locking it behind her. She ran down the steps and out into the overcast outside. The air was heavy and dewy. The clouds seemed to be connected as they hung low over the wall. As she made her way down to the Woads' camp, she saw many of them outside doing chores and rushing about. Merlin saw her coming and walked out of his tent to greet her. She nodded her greeting and he motioned for her to follow him. They walked over to the edge of the woods and sat on a boulder.

"Elizabeth, I was informed about your adventures with the knights. How you saved villagers and how you were rescued from your father. However, I would like to hear everything from your own mouth," Merlin said, speaking softly.

Elizabeth nodded and launched into her accounts of everything that had happened to her up to this very day. Merlin patiently sat and listened. He remained silent when she finished. Elizabeth watched him anxiously. Any moment now, he was going to order her whipped or punished for betraying her family. After all, her father had been her only family. Although evil, she still was considered to be his daughter and was under his control.

"I believe you, Elizabeth. But please tell me something. Would you turn against your own people in this battle as well?"

"Merlin, I am true to those whom I love. I would do nothing that would endanger the knights or my fellow Woads. The Rebels I consider foul, wretched people who care naught for life. They deserve to die. They're killed innocent people in this village and there will be more captures. Please do not doubt my allegiance."

Merlin sat and slowly nodded his head. He took her chin between his hands.

"You have not had the best life. A cruel father and a mother who could do nothing. Don't let your past bother you anymore. Let it go and embrace your new life here. You have friends and allies. Arthur mentioned that you didn't know where you would be headed after this battle. You are welcome to live among the Woads once more, but something tells me that you would like to stay here," he said with a small grin.

Elizabeth looked up at him as a single tear glided down her cheek. Here she had been thinking he was going to punish her and he was offering her a new life among her people. She threw her arms around the older man and gave him a hug. They both stood up and returned to the camp. Merlin took her hand and murmured something in their language before departing. Elizabeth went to leave and a Woad stopped her.

"You have abandoned our ways. Merlin is wrong in thinking you should come back to us. Some of us still believe in complete loyalty to our people," the Woad said.

She spat on the ground in front of Elizabeth, who pretended not to hear and brushed by her. The Woad kept staring at her, but went back to work.

Tears stung Elizabeth's eyes. What good was it to be accepted by Merlin, but not by the other Woads. Whatever the case, Merlin had been right. She probably would stay. He had known the reason as well. Lancelot. She was being pulled in two. She still loved her people and wanted to be a part of them, but she loved Lancelot as well. There was a hard decision before her, but she could not worry about it now. Battle would soon be upon them.

Elizabeth looked up and realized some of the clouds had lifted and the warm afternoon sun shone weakly through the thick clouds. She hadn't thought of how long she had been with Merlin. She found Lancelot throwing knives at a practice board, joined by Gawain. Elizabeth sat down on the grass beside them and watched. Gawain threw the knife with such force, that at times, the board fell. Elizabeth's mood began to lift as she enjoyed the knights' company. Gawain soon became bored and bade them good-bye as he headed towards the pub area where Bors and Galahad probably were.

"What would you care to do next?" Lancelot asked.

Elizabeth, who had been staring dreamily out towards the sky, snapped back to attention.

"Sorry?" she said.

"What would you like to do?" he repeated.

Elizabeth thought for a moment before her eyes lit up. This was always something she had wanted to do. She looked at Lancelot mischievously.

"You promised me a lesson with twin swords," she said, grinning widely.

"Ah," Lancelot said.

Elizabeth continued smiling and they walked back to yet another practice yard. Lancelot pulled out his twin swords and Elizabeth picked up two spare blades lying on the ground from previous use.

"The last time I saw you use two swords you seemed to know what you were doing, however you did have many flaws," he said grinning.

Elizabeth made a face. He was right. She did need a terrible amount of practice.

Lancelot adjusted how she was holding the two swords and they began practicing. Her blocks were not extremely good. They blades slipped as she crossed them to hold. After about an hour, they took a break.

"You improved," he said.

"Somewhat. It's very difficult. I prefer my regular sword," she said laughing as in image of herself tripping over her own two feet, while brandishing the twin blades came into her mind.

They were quiet for a few moments and a horse came galloping by, riderless and stirrups flapping. Elizabeth jumped up and ran after it and Lancelot followed. The horse stopped in the tall grass and bent down to eat in an irritated manner. Elizabeth carefully walked up, patting the horse on the shoulder as she made her way to its head. She grabbed the reins off of the ground and held them, while talking to the horse soothingly. She saw deep welts on his rear and along his ribs. She gasped inwardly and wondered what was keeping Lancelot. She heard shuffling and looked up as Lancelot was dragging a young officer towards them. The officer's face was red and his pants were ripped. Lancelot threw him on the ground in front of them.

"Found him with a bow and arrow in his hands aiming at the horse," he said angrily.

Lancelot, like the rest of the knights had a deep respect and love for horses, especially his own horse. Their mounts carried them through everything and fought by their side.

"Damn horse is worthless. Threw me during practice," the officer said.

Elizabeth grabbed his shirt and looked at him.

"Ever wonder exactly why your steed is the way he is? I don't. You're not worthy of him," Elizabeth growled with a look at the horse's flanks.

"Take him then. I'll enjoy seeing how long you last with him," the officer snarled back.

And with that last retort, the officer lifted himself off the ground and stalked away. Elizabeth absently pet the horse's soft muzzle and stared after the angry man.

"We need to clean him up and find him a better rider," Lancelot said, breaking her thoughts.

Elizabeth nodded and pulled herself up into the saddle. The horse snorted nervously, but accepted her weight. She moved back and sat behind the saddle and looked down at Lancelot.

"Come on," she said.

Lancelot pulled himself up with a grin and settled into the saddle. The horse's ears flickered back and forth. Elizabeth looped her arms around Lancelot and the horse picked up an agitated trot. He limped on one leg, but continued on. The soon reached the barn and Elizabeth slid off the horse's broad back. The horse was breathing heavily and its head drooped. Lancelot jumped off as well and they walked the horse into the barn. The tack was of poor leather and the girth straps were beginning to go. Lancelot slid the saddle off and took a soaked sponge and washed the horse's back off. He slipped the bit out of his mouth and opened the door to a nearby stall.

"He's a fighter, but his spirit is starting to break," Elizabeth commented as she leaned on the frame of the stall.

"Aye. He needs some good treatment," Lancelot said.

"Arthur! He might use him. He could always use another horse to go around the village," Elizabeth said suddenly.

"I don't know. Arthur is quite attached to his steed. We could find one of the young squires perhaps," he said.

Elizabeth nodded and he mouth spread into a smile. She continued looking over the horse. His dark brown coat was matted and his chocolate main and tail were knotted with weeds stuck in them. Elizabeth picked up a brush and unlatched the door. She walked in and gently combed the horse's tail. His eyes gently closed and he rested a back hoof.

"You need a name," she said, methodically brushing.

Lancelot smiled and walked out of the barn into the brilliant orange sky.

Back in the barn, Elizabeth was still talking to the horse. Darkness watched from his stall.

"We could call you Forest. What do you think? Forest? No? What about Illusion?"

The horse threw his head up and down. Elizabeth laughed.

"You're more than what you seem. An illusion. It fits you," she said, giving the horse one last pat before heading after Lancelot.

Outside, the sky was pink and orange and the clouds seemed like ghostly spirits. The air was cool and she shivered. Lamps were being lit and campfires were aglow from where the Woads were. She walked over to the pub. Lancelot was not there. Only rowdy villagers. She ran back to the door and ran up several sets of stairs and came to the entrance to Hope Garden. She ran through to Maria. She hammered on the door and Maria let her in with a warm smile.

"Have you seen Lancelot?" she asked.

"No, try the Round Table," she answered.

Elizabeth thanked her and ran out the door.

It took her several minutes to get to the Round Table and she found no one inside. She ran out and bumped into Arthur. He picked the cloth he was caring up off the ground.

"Sorry, Arthur. Have you seen Lancelot?" she said.

"No, I haven't. I was looking for him as well," he said.

Elizabeth shook her head and walked up to her room. She knocked on Lancelot's door and looked inside. Everything was thrown around and a knife flew by her head. Embedding itself in the door. She gasped and slammed the door shut. Someone put their hand around her mouth from behind and she bit down. Lancelot yelled. Elizabeth's eyes widened.

"Oh my goodness! I'm so sorry!" she whispered.

"Quiet. Are you alright?" he asked.

Elizabeth nodded and Lancelot dragged her over to her room. They unlocked the door and searched the inside once again. Finding nothing, they locked the door.

"What happened?" Elizabeth asked.

"I went back to the barn to get you and you weren't there and I got nervous. I ran up here and found you looking into my room. Any idea why my clothes are all over the place along with my papers and why someone else is in there?" he asked sarcastically.

Elizabeth grinned and shrugged.

"What are we going to do? We can't just walk out," she said.

Lancelot didn't answer. He thought for a few moments and Elizabeth got up and looked through her drawers on her table. She pulled out two short knives and buckled her sword around her waist.

"Well?"

"We'll draw them out. Open the door and wait for them to come out," he said.

Elizabeth nodded and they headed out the door, locking it behind them. Elizabeth's heart had started a rapid beat and she took a deep breath. Lancelot threw the wooden door open and they back up down the dark corridor. Knives and arrows flew out and hurled themselves at the wall. Elizabeth's face paled. They waited for a long time and her eyes began to droop from tiredness, but the sudden thought of attack made her eyes snap open once again. Lancelot crept forward and peered through a crack in the side of the door. A Rebel was inside asleep on his bed. Lancelot fit an arrow to his bow and shot it through the crack. It just made it. It flew true. The man sputtered and died. Lancelot barged in, his sword out.

The man lay dead. They looked around the big room and found nothing.

"Well, there's more to wash right there. Disgusting," he said, looking at his bed.

Elizabeth laughed.

"At least you weren't in here," she said.

Lancelot grinned and together they hefted the body towards the window and threw it out. The Rebels would come get it. Right now, they wanted nothing to do with it.

Elizabeth brushed her hands on her skirt after she had washed them. Lancelot was busy putting his stuff away. He walked over to the door and left it wide open.

"I'm going down to tell Arthur," Elizabeth said after Lancelot had cleaned his room and carefully ripped the sheets off his bed.

She started to head out the door and looked back at Lancelot. He was pulling a key out and carefully looking at it. He followed her and locked the door.

"What was wrong with the key?" she asked.

"Nothing. I was just checking it," he said.

They walked down to the pub and found Gawain and Galahad. Lancelot told them what had happened. A pretty bar maid brought full mugs of ale over and placed them before the knights. She batted her eyelashes at Lancelot, but he ignored her and got looks from Gawain and Galahad. Gawain shrugged and pulled the girl onto his lap. He grinned at the girl and Galahad laughed into his mug and Lancelot rolled his eyes. Elizabeth smiled and looked down.

Knights, she thought to herself.

The girl soon left, having gotten bored with Gawain. Lancelot gave him a knowing look and opened his mouth to say something, but Galahad beat him to it.

"Gawain, no woman enjoys perching on your knees and staring at your mug of ale. If I were you, I'd find a better way to entertain them," Galahad laughed.

Lancelot shook his head.

"Gawain-"

Gawain cut him off.

"Gentleman, she was wasn't up to tonight so I simply released her," he said pompously.

Lancelot snorted and started laughing and Galahad soon joined in. Elizabeth continued to stare down at the table, concentrating on a crack to keep from bursting into laughter. Gawain made a rude gesture and went to get more ale.

"Knights have a strange view on pleasure," Elizabeth said.

"Oh really, fair lady. And what did the men of your village do?" Lancelot asked in a mocking tone.

"They practiced and spent time with their families-"

"I would hate being a Woad. No pleasurable women," Galahad laughed.

Elizabeth glared.

The two men laughed harder and Elizabeth, shaking her head, went over to see Vanora, who was yelling at Bors. Again. Elizabeth walked over, just as Bors stalked away, over to Lancelot and Galahad. However, as Elizabeth glanced over, Lancelot had engaged himself in a game with a villager.

"Elizabeth, dear, will you hold him please?" Vanora asked, as she shoved a small child into Elizabeth's arms.

Elizabeth was shocked and totally unprepared. Nervously, she fixed her arms. She had never helped with the children in her home. The baby looked up at her with a gurgling face and Elizabeth smiled.

"Didn't know you liked little ones?" a soft voice said behind her.

Elizabeth turned around and Lancelot was standing there.

"Well...erm...to tell you the truth, I was a little nervous. Never really held a child before," she said, embarrassed.

Lancelot smiled at her and Vanora came running up.

"Thanks, love," she said, before hurrying away, Bors in tow.

Elizabeth looked at Lancelot a bit uncomfortably. Gawain broke, the silence by running up to them with a mug of ale and yelling something they couldn't understand. Elizabeth plucked the mug out of his hands. He protested as she dumped it onto the ground. Lancelot laughed and pulled Gawain over to throw knives. Elizabeth wondered if that was a good idea with Gawain in the state that he was. She shrugged and brought the mug back over to the bartender. He took it gruffly and Elizabeth walked over to the game of knives.

Although drunk, Gawain threw the knives with such accuracy it was frightening. Lancelot was somewhat of a match, but in the end, Gawain was the victor. He gave a bellowing cheer and took a gulp of ale. His face was extremely red and he had a big smile on his face. Elizabeth watched as Lancelot joined Gawain as they laughed. She shook her head and started to turn and walk away. Gawain grabbed her arm and pulled her towards him. He sat down heavily in a chair and Elizabeth fell onto his lap. She tried tog et up, but Gawain held her there.

"And where would you being going, lass? Leaving already?" he slurred.

Elizabeth's eyes widened and she pushed him away and got up. She stumbled and Lancelot, who had been watching curiously, caught her. Embarrassed, she pushed her hair back and walked over to find some of the other girls.

"What was that all about?" Lancelot asked Gawain.

"Couldn't help myself. If I were you, Lancelot, I'd hurry along with her. Before you know it, she'll be gone," Gawain said roughly, taking another swig of ale.

"Maybe you should get some rest," Lancelot suggested, a weird look on his face.

"Aye," Gawain said in a tired voice.

He got up, swaying a bit, and walked over to the bar and ordered another ale. Lancelot looked at him for a little while before going after Elizabeth. He found her standing in a courtyard next to the pub. She was in a conversation with a Woad. Lancelot edged closer and flattened himself against the wall and listened.

"Elizabeth, you need to decide what your destiny will be. You can't hold onto both sides. You need to chose!" the Woad yelled.

"I won't. We're working together right now. They're my friends," Elizabeth said in a quaking voice.

"Like the foolish knight who pulled you onto his lap tonight?" he said sarcastically.

"He was drunk. That was the ale, not him-"

"And what about that other knight you've been cavorting around with? Hmm? How's that been going?" he yelled.

"You know nothing about them! You have no right-"

"You're an outrage! To everyone! A complete embarrassment. Your father could have been right. He shouldn't have done what he did, but you're impossible. Do everyone a favor and just go back and apologize. Be a wife and let all this go. It would make everyone's life so much easier. Especially mine!" he snarled.

Elizabeth didn't answer, but her eyes were filled with rage and embarrassment. She stormed out of the courtyard and the Woad ran out as well. Lancelot stood there, taking in everything he had heard. What had Elizabeth done? He began thinking she was holding out on something. He strode out and ran right by Elizabeth, who was sitting on a bench in the shadows. He stopped and looked back, realizing who it was. He sat down next to her.

"Elizabeth, what is going on?" he asked.

"If I said, I'm not what I seem to be, would you still look at me?" she asked.

"Of course! But, I would prefer knowing," he said.

"It's a long story. It was the year before my mother left. She was such a beautiful woman and the men were constantly after her. One man came in the midst of the night and while she was sleeping, took her by surprise. She was raped. My father was out hunting and he knew nothing of this. I jumped up and tried to help her. I fought with the man. I got pretty beat up. I was punched several times until I pulled my dagger out and stuck through his black heart. He ran out of the tent in his last few moments and screamed murderer. I was tried. They whipped me and charged me guilty of killing this man. My father returned and found out. I was whipped again and considered worthless and promised to a Woad who had admired my beauty. My father said I was not worth the trouble, but could have cared less and gave me to the man. He took me to his home and I was treated kindly at first. Then one day, I wouldn't lie in bed with him and he slapped me across the face. He took his dagger out and slit my wrist and stormed out of the hut. I ran away, only to be caught by my father. He took me back in, banished my mother, and moved to the rebel camp. And that's where you found me. However, to this day, I'm considered a murderer of an innocent man. The Woad I was in the courtyard with, yes I knew you were there, was my old husband. He wants me back. It was his father whom I killed. He has every right to take me back in the rules of my people. He is jealous of the knights and everything they do and stand for. It is his dream, his desire, to one day kill a great knight. He cannot, however, for Merlin forbids him to do so. He is infuriated that a knight has me and not he. I am trouble, plain and simple."

Lancelot stared at her for a few moments before shaking his head and putting her hand in his.

"And what did your father do?" he asked.

Elizabeth who was in tears, answered in an unsteady whisper.

"He raped me. Just as he had done to my mother before the man I killed. I pulled a knife on him before he could hurt me and he threw me out. My father was a dirty man with dirty friends and he cared naught for family."

Lancelot pulled her into his arms.

"Nothing will happen. It would take one hundred Woads to kill me," he joked.

Elizabeth gave him a sardonic look that clearly said she thought otherwise. Lancelot laughed and she grinned.

"Well, if they all fight like you and Guinevere then maybe just fifty."

Elizabeth punched his arm and laughed.

She rubbed her hand along her face to dry the tears.

"It's amazing how your past can come back to haunt you," she said.

"Did that man intend on taking you back with him?"

"Yes, and when I refused, it caused a bit of a problem," she said.

"You won't be going anywhere. Was he a Rebel?"

"No, he's a personal servant to one of the commanding Woads."

"Ah."

They sat there in silence. Elizabeth was admiring the sky. It was a conflict of clouds all pushing and pulling at one another.

"I think I'll head up," she said, standing.

"I'll go with you. Don't really trust that Woad," he said, grinning.

So, together, they headed up the stairs. Their were servants crowded in the passageway talking. Elizabeth walked into her room and found a warm fire and a note. It was from Anne.

Dear Elizabeth,

I fixed your room for you tonight as you can tell. I was wondering if you could do me a favor and help out at the pub tomorrow. I'm leaving before the war and I need a replacement for the day. I wish to not be caught in yet another bloody battle ground. I will miss you.

Thank you,

Anne

Elizabeth looked at the note. When the heck would she have time to do this? And Ann had probably already left. She brought the note over to Lancelot. He read it and shook his head.

"No. You shouldn't. I know she's your friend, but you get some pretty dark figures in there at times-"

"I can take care of myself and she's been so kind," Elizabeth said.

"No. It would be dangerous. You would be in there all day. These people...ah...just don't. It's wouldn't be a good decision," he said, turning back to the sword he was cleaning.

Elizabeth made a face and wrote an apologetic note and gave it to a servant in the hall. She walked back into Lancelot's room and watched him clean the blade.

"Thanks," she said.

"For what?"

"For wanting to help me. For caring. You're one of the first," she said.

"That so?"

"Aye."

She walked over and sat next to him. He continued polishing the blade. Elizabeth watched silently and fiddled with a string on the sleeve of her dress. She stopped picking at it for a moment and then looked over at the cloth in Lancelot's hand, that was going back and forth over the steel. She pulled it out of his hand and placed it next to her. Lancelot put the blade back into its sheath and slowly touched Elizabeth's cheek. Elizabeth didn't move, but everything that had happened that night came flooding back. Her hand lingered on Lancelot's for a moment before she got up and went to her room, confused. She thought she loved him, but why was she so nervous all of a sudden. She wanted dearly to blame it on her conversation, but she knew it was something else. She sat staring at the fire and slowly drifted off to sleep.

THUD THUD.

Elizabeth jumped and ran to the door. She whipped it open and drew her sword. She breathed a sigh of relief to see Lancelot. He smiled at her, but his eyes were worried.

"A villager?" Elizabeth asked, reading his mind.

"Yes, and sign of a struggle. They found blood outside the door of her home."

Elizabeth frowned and threw on boots. She grabbed her sword and brushed apt Lancelot and ran down the stairs.

"Elizabeth! It's too dark! You'll get yourself killed. We'll wait until morning. It would be impossible to come out alive at night," Lancelot called after her.

Elizabeth pretended not to hear and only continued on. Lancelot caught up to her and followed her out. Arthur was outside with his armor on. He was talking with several guards who were yawning. Elizabeth gave an exasperated sigh. Guards. She ran past them and stopped dead in her tracks. She had seen a lot of gruesome things in her life, but this topped all of them.

The poor woman's head was hanging by a thing piece of skin and her face was contorted in an odd expression. Her body was covered in blood and she had no hands. A long gash was visible down her abdomen as she hung there naked. Elizabeth's head began to swim and she tried her best to not faint. Fainting was a sign of weakness. However, she couldn't help it. It was a good thing Lancelot had followed her because she sagged and started to crumple, just as Lancelot caught her. He looked up and almost dropped her as he saw the woman.

"Arthur!" he yelled.

Arthur turned his head at his best friends voice and ran to the courtyard. He saw the woman and his face dropped at the sight. The guards had followed him and the sound of vomiting could be heard. Elizabeth was still out and Arthur had more torches lit. Villagers, guards, and knights ran up to see what had happened. Lancelot brought Elizabeth back up to her room and put a wet cloth on her head. The image had frightened him. Also, for the first time since he'd heard Elizabeth explain her pat, her was nervous about the Woads.

Elizabeth moaned and turned over on the bed. Her eyes opened and she looked around blearily.

Lancelot took the cloth and placed it back in the basin.

"I fainted," she said blankly.

"That poor woman," Lancelot said, shaking his head.

Elizabeth just looked at him.

"What's wrong?"

"I fainted. Fainting's a sign of weakness. No warrior faints from seeing blood," she said, disgusted with herself.

"Elizabeth, there were men vomiting at the site and other wouldn't go near her. It was a shock. Just let it go," he said.

Elizabeth shook her head. This had not been a good day. She wondered how much bad luck a person could have. Lancelot handed her a small knife and she looked at it questioningly.

"It was made in my homeland, Sarmatia. I used it when I was little, but my hands are too big to grip it now. I want you to have it. I believe that Sarmatian steel has life in it, along with a bit of home," he said.

Elizabeth's long fingers gripped the dagger's hilt and she admired the sleek blade. It was small, but the blade was razor sharp. It certainly was no toy.

"Why are you giving this to me?" she asked.

"Every young warrior was given one before leaving the village. It was a last gift from our parents, to use when we were famous knights."

Elizabeth gave a small smile and ran one finger along the side of the dagger. It was smooth and beautifully forged. Lancelot smiled, glad she liked it.

She placed it on her table and gave him a smile.

"It's wonderful," she said.

Lancelot leaned over and kissed her. Elizabeth kissed back and they lay on the bed, enjoying one another's company. Elizabeth sat up for a moment and looked at him.

"I need to tell you something," she said.

"Alright..."

"Remember how I told you that my cousins and I talked about the knights?"

"Aye."

"Well, I used to watch from the forest and I'd always see you and Arthur. You were my favorite knight to watch.. Cunning and talented. Sure, you had killed my people, but still, I could not forget you. We practiced with our older cousins, hoping to learn the twin blades. Well, after we joined Arthur in the battle, I had hoped to maybe speak with you. My father kept me busy though. I went into the war and saw you fighting near Guinevere. You were fighting that monster Cynric. The arrow that saved you, was not that of a knight. It was mine. It caused him to lose aim and weakened him. I had saved you, and I left. My father would be furious, but I would face him later. I never saw you again until the day you rescued me."

Lancelot sat there, stunned.

Elizabeth gave him a shy grin. She hadn't told anyone the story before. She had been afraid someone would figure out her feelings for the charming knight. That didn't matter anymore.

"Why didn't you tell me any of this sooner?" he asked slowly.

"I didn't think it was the right time," she replied.

Lancelot gave his head a quick shake and looked at her, or Elizabeth felt, right through her.

"I was just thinking about what could have been if you hadn't shot that arrow. I'm not going to take another chance," he said.

Elizabeth gave him a questioning look and Lancelot kissed her again. He began unbuttoning her dress and they fell back into the blankets. Elizabeth began to understand, but the thoughts soon fled from her memory as she pulled Lancelot's shirt off.

The fire was dying as the last embers turned a glowing orange and the room was silent. An owl outside hooted and a small breeze drifted by. Down in the campground, a lonely Woad sat by the fire, plotting on how to get a certain woman back.