Three - Simple Mission

Unfortunately, Arthur's fever didn't break, and like Lana had promised, he wouldn't ride, and Lancelot seconded the opinion when he saw Arthur's face, beat red and his cheeks sweating like raindrops falling from a cloud. To Arthur's protest, he'd stayed in bed, with Vanora tending to him. Lancelot took over Arthur's position as the leader of this mission; Arthur seemed to get quieter when this was mentioned. It was the most unusual morning, Arthur was sick, and Lana felt her stomach turn as well, she'd felt the same several mornings in a row now; Lancelot would rub her back, and they'd continue the day.

So Gawain, Galahad, Lancelot and Lana rode North, near the edge of Hadrian's Wall to retrieve the load of supplies for the out-post. It took most of the day, and with all them deciding they rode in the middle of the night, finally arriving to the load near dawn.

Lancelot patted his stallion, he rode hard, and a rest was well deserved. The wagon was filled up to the top, and almost poking out the sides, along with the wagon, was a single Roman guard, whom waited at the meeting point with several other guards. They would return to their post, as the single guard would follow the Knights back to south.

Lana looked at all the things shoved into the wagon, there was a beautiful purple velvet pillow, and her fingertips ran over the smooth cloth, she wanted it as her own. Lancelot walked stood beside her, and watched her in awe.

"You want that pillow."

"Look at it, it's beautiful."

"Fine, it's yours." Lancelot placed his hands on his hips, Lana turned to him, the two swords on his back pointing out like they where his own appendages. Leaning over, she scratched her bare calf, her armor was farley new, and more lightweight than the men were.

She had brown leather pant-capri, beginning at her knees and tight on her thighs, and from her knee to her waist. Two daggers where tied to her tights, for easy use when needed. It was hidden but a weaved skirt, slit on the sides to ride a horse easily, and the cloth was heavy and a dark green color. Her belt was silver chain, useful in battle when no other weapons are around. It was wrapped twice about her waist, with her shortened sword on its sheath. Her armor was tied around her neck, with a v-neck line made of a thick cloth, then covered by leather, her shoulders where bare, as where her arms when she wouldn't wear her cape.

"Are you in charge of this loot?" Lana asked sarcastically.

"Are you braving your life to gather these goods?" Lana nodded her head; Lancelot placed his arm around her shoulders and laughed. "Then it's yours." Lana smirked as Galahad shouted while on his horse next to Gawain.

"We should leave soon."

Lana turned to Lancelot, lifting her fingers; she touched his cheek welcomingly, her smile appearing to be full of her love for him. But as quick as the moment was created, she stepped away, and headed towards Gawain.

"You have any bread left on you?" Gawain's blue eyes flashes in the dawn radiance, standing with his hands planted firmly on his hips, he raised his eyebrow, Lancelot was inspecting the wagon as Gawain saw, so he decided to have some fun. His long locks looked like they where all tangled together, but that was the beauty of Gawain, didn't at all. It was truly a look all his own.

"How much is it worth to you?" Lana shifted her stance, she tilted her face as the few fringe pieces of her hair touched her cheekbone, and her brown eyes locked up on his blue jems.

"What do you mean?" Her thick British accent took over as she dropped her hands to her sides, Gawain spin his eyes, Galahad was now speaking with Lancelot, now in the clear, Gawain continued.

"What is it worth to you?" Lana lowered her eyes, and before Gawain knew it, his beloved axe was in her hands.

"How about you give me some damn bread." Lana suggested while twirling his axe in her hands. Gawain motioned forward, in attempts to recover his weapon, but Lana took a step back, and shook her finger. "Gawain, there is no use. Bread please."

"I'll survive without the axe. You on the other hand, can't survive without my bread." Gawain gave a corky bow, he knew he held all the cards, Lana had a bitter taste in her mouth, and with a simple glare, she walked past him, axe in hand. Gawain turned like clockwork. "Where are you going?" Gawain shouted while following.

"What the?" Galahad turned from the wagon, a thick fog was rolling in, and rolling in quickly. Lancelot tied down the wagon, and securing the horse too, he turned back to Galahad, but he was unable to locate him in the fog.

"Galahad?"

"Yes,"

"Get on your horse, we need to ride." Lancelot yelled, his turned to where he last spotted Gawain and Lana, his face frowning he dusted off his chest and stepped a few feet from the wagon, but still in distance of his horse. A rough grunt came from his side, it was Lana's stallion, and Gawain's not to far behind.

"Lana! Gawain!" Lancelot shouted, Galahad trotted over, his hooves slamming into the dirt and recoiling pieces of the earth into the air. "Lana!"

"Lancelot, this fog is too thick." Galahad revolved about the area, as panic set in. They couldn't leave without Gawain or Lana, imagine what Arthur would say. "Gawain!" Galahad shouted his feet nervously tucking into his horse's side. "Lana!?"

"Woads," Lancelot whispered, Galahad turned back into Lancelot's view. "We can't just leave them,"