RedSkyAtNight- Thanks for the tips…I really did space off during the grammar portion of English. It was all so boring…
Blue Eyes At Night - Yeah…She's feelin pretty pissy over the whole bath thing.
SnoDragon- Yeah Arthur and Modron got it on… Crazy I know… And I freaking love Mordred! You'll should like my next story if you are a Mordred legend fan. Ahhh I love him!
Disappointed fan- Yeah well this eleven pages on Word as compared to my normal 6-8. Hope you enjoy it!
Medea Smyke- Thank you! His or her review didn't exactly bother me, but it is nice to know that you really think the story is getting better. Yeah grammar isn't my strong point!
Hope you all enjoy this chapter!
Meleagan's straw like hair contrasted frightfully with his ruddy complexion at that moment. He looked as if he would love nothing more than to crush a man's skull with his bare hands.
"Your gods cursed husband refuses to pay for your safe return." He said irately. His close cropped beard trembled with rage. No ransom? That meant… "He has raised an army in a matter of weeks!"
Ha. Ha bloody ha. Oh Arthur. I was going to kiss that wonderful man if I ever saw him again. Yseult's eyes were squinting as she adjusted to the light that was pouring in through the opened door. My skin seemed ready to slide off my bones, if only to be kissed by the sunlight for a few moments. Guinevere stood up swiftly and confidently, while I stood up slowly, never taking my eyes off the angry Saxon.
"What will you do?" Guinevere asked keeping her voice guarded and her eyes cold. I stood a pace or two behind her as Ealasaid stood up also. Meleagan was now faced with five able bodied women who had no love for him. He gave a humorless laugh.
"What would you do woad? I made an offer. A generous offer. The Roman has turned it down. Whatever fate the gods have planned for us when your husband brings his army here, your time is up. His defiance will cost him your lives." Meleagan said giving us a smile that was more like a animal's grimace. I had no doubt that Meleagan would go through with the threat. It was a death sentence. I don't think she even realized that she did it, but Guinevere's arms went around her stomach. It now seemed that her baby might never even take its first breath. No. No I would not let that happen. My thoughts raced desperately.
"Will you give our bodies back to our people for a burial?" I asked, willing Meleagan be manipulated. I sent a prayer that lasted no longer than a second to every god that abided on this earth. "You're going to force our men to watch us die; give us the honor of a burial."
My breath was shallow. Please gods. Work. Meleagan started to say something and then paused. His abomination of a smile widened. It had not occurred to him before to make a spectacle of our deaths.
"I will have your bodies sent north." He said thinking himself generous. Andrivete was shaking.
"When will he be here?" Guinevere asked in a quieter voice.
"My scouts tell me he'll be here before the week's end." Meleagan said and this seemed to dampen his mood. The word scout sent another shock of hope through me. His shoulders stiffened. "Enjoy your last few days."
And with that he left us there in our shabby prison. Yseult turned to me not with anger, but with disbelief.
"Now he's going to kill us in front of them all." She said looking as if she would rather die a thousand deaths than to be shamed like Meleagan had promised. She knew that he had not thought of this last strike at Arthur on his own.
"Every moment of life in between now and that day is promised to us." I said quietly. "And every one of those moments is going to help us escape."
Yseult looked doubtful as she turned away, but I didn't care. I had work to do. I lean against the wall of our pathetic thatched hut and tried to think of a way to escape. I doubted there was any way of escaping before Arthur arrived. We wouldn't stand a chance. I tried to picture the settings around the hut. The ground we stood on was an arms length below the ground level outside. We were positioned near the stone wall…Gods help me…
My salvation came two days later in the form of the guard who kept watch over us during the day. Another man, a fat, gruff looking fellow, stopped by to offer some entertainment to our daytime jailer. The originally innocent game of tossing a few crude, foreign looking dice on the ground had turned into a brawl over an accusation of cheating. Wanting to see what was going on, and of course the sheer desperation for amusement, sent us scrambling to the wall. Faces were pressed against knobby holes and splintering gaps in the wood. I watched as the fat man flattened our jailer under his ample body and then proceeded to smother the unfortunate man's face into the frosted mud. Just as it seemed our jailer was completely lost to the humiliating defeat, he threw the man bodily off him. Ealasaid yelped and flung herself backwards as the man was hurled against the hut wall. I heard the dull clink of metal hitting wood. I crawled over to the door and pitched my cheek against the dirt. I peered under the door at the knife that had tumbled down the primitive ramp that gave access to our submerged pen. A few men had gathered around to watch the fray. I hoped no one saw my hand crawl out from under the door. My finger tips could just brush the edge of the blade, but my forearm was caught under the door. I pressed my arm into the dirt and shoved my hand forward. I held back a hiss of pain as a layer of skin was shaved off by the wood. My finger tips closed around the blade tip and grasped it. I pulled my arm back and ignored the sting of the blade slicing into my thumb. I stared at the blade for a moment. The rusty, simple blade laid on my palm, barely any longer than my hand. Strangely enough, it seemed to me that the knife was the most beautiful thing I had ever set my eyes on. I admired it for a few moments until Guinevere broke my reverie.
"Hide it before the man notices its gone!" She said urgently. Andrivete began frantically digging a small hole. After a few moments she held her hand out impatiently. I tossed her the knife which she immediately plunged into the shallow grave. Yseult and she began shoving fistfuls of dirt back over the hole and patting it frenziedly. We sat back after it was done and took deep breaths. We had a blade. It was strange to be so happy and hopeful over such a small thing. Since I could hold a blade without impaling myself, I had never been far from a knife or sword. It reminded me how far we had fallen. Faces flashed across my eyelids in a stream of gold. Galahad, Gawain, Bors, Mordred, Arthur, Tristan, Dag, Lancelot, Modron, March. It made me remember what I was fighting for. Once again plans began forming in mind. This time, I was confident that we would escape.
Three more days and nights passed before Arthur and his army arrived. In the early morning of the fourth day, I was awakened by the sounds of panic. I jerked a filthy hand across my groggy eyes and crawled to the door. I gently pushed Andrivete, who had fallen asleep against the door, out of my way and peered out. Cai was standing outside scratching his flop of wheat colored hair. Women, children and the old were being hustled into the molded stone fortress. The sounds of animals, infants, and shouting men filled the air. The Saxons, a rather hairy race, were adorned in thick leather jerkins and chain mail. Bundles of arrows and spears were being carted out the gate. It was evident that Meleagan would defend the lower part of the town for as long as he could. If Arthur breached the wooden fence, the Saxons would retreat to the larger stone wall. There they would be trapped, but safe for a while. Arthur would lay siege of course, and eventually get through…Unless of course Meleagan was expecting help? I wondered if the Saxon had sent word to his kin that the high king of Britain was going to be camped at his doorstep with only the soldiers he had managed to recruit in a few weeks. An imposing figure was striding towards our meager housing. It was Meleagan outfitted in all his armor. I lunged over to Guinevere and began shaking her awake. She had barely time to give me a startled look and raise herself up before the door was thrown open. Meleagan stood there like some awful god of old times. His face was void of any of his normal vicious amusement.
"He's here. With an entire army." He spit out at us. The others had awakened and were staring at him in an alarmed fashion. He sounded worried, which meant that Arthur's army could pose a threat. I estimated that Arthur had gathered at least six hundred men. Meleagan raised a hand and backhanded the queen. She fell to the ground with a cry. I was up in front of her in a moment, as the others tried to pull Guinevere to them to shield her. I kept my face blank I stood, fortress like in front of the armored king. I knew that I must not have looked very worthy of fear. I was a young woman who had been stuck in a dirty pit nearly all winter. I had not bathed or even had a decent meal the entire time. My hair was like earthy slime plastered to my head and my skin was a sickly, pasty color, smeared with dirt like some pathetic war paint. I stood there; not attacking, only defending. I longed to dig up the knife and shove into the man's gut, but I forced myself to remain still. I would use the blade until it was safe to do so. His mouth was a thin sneer as he swung a beastly fist at me. I dodged it and stepped back. This time he took a step forward as he punched and there was no escaping it. A huge, alabaster fist connected with my left eye. I barely managed to stand.
"You bother me the most." he said stiffly. "More than the stupid one or the pale one. More than the healer or that snug bitch of a queen. You and that blank face."
This time my skull felt as though it was cracked, and I could not remain standing. I fell to the dirt in a heap. Meleagan stepped over me and sent a sharp kick to Guinevere's huge belly. Her mouth opened in a scream that was silent except for a hoarse sound. Yseult launched herself at the Saxon. He hit her aside like she was a leaf. The auburn haired girl slammed into the wall and was still.
"Soon." He said in a promise and exited the hut. Cai cast one pained look into the hut before shutting the door. I took in the look of agonized remorse as I clutched at my skull. Minutes passed before the ache in my head quieted to a dim roar. I stood up unsteadily. There was a faint pounding. I was not sure if it was just the ringing in my head or the sound of war drums. I felt as though I might be sick for a moment. Andrivete checked Yseult's pulse and then began to shake her awake. Guinevere was gritting her teeth as she held her stomach. Her thin arms were wrapped snugly around the bottom portion of her belly as if to keep the contents from falling out. Ealasaid gave me a look and I nodded. March's sister was paler than I had ever seen her as she tried to press cold palms to Guinevere's cheeks. The heir to the throne was in danger in its mother's stomach. It needed to be born. I could here the sounds of battle in the distance. I dug up the blade immediately and looked around. The roof was too high for us to reach, even while stepping on someone's back. I turned my eyes to the wall. The lower portion of the walls was just tightly packed earth. It turned into wood around the height of my hip. I looked in the direction I knew the stone wall to be in. I began digging furiously at the dirt. Andrivete began to help me and soon there was a sizable hole going upwards towards the light.
"Stay here." I said swiftly as I pushed myself through the hole. I came out on the other side breathed deeply. Freedom. I looked around. There was only an arms length or so in between myself and the wall. I grabbed a dirt clod and tossed it over the roof of the hut. That would alarm Cai. I waited another moment to hear the direction he was coming in. He walked around the left side, so I ducked behind the other side. I waited he had ducked down to the hole in shock. I was at his side in a moment, holding the knife to his throat as pulled his fair hair back. I heard Andrivete whimper from inside.
"You make a sound and I will kill you." I said plainly. "If you try to alarm the others, I will end your life. I have no qualms about slitting your throat."
He made a tiny sound to show he understood.
"Cai, do you want to see her hung from the walls?" I asked and there was no need to say who "she" was. He shook his head slightly. "We can lock you into the pit, and you can say we overwhelmed you."
"They will kill me anyways." He said shaking his head.
"Then you can help us, and come with us." I said quietly. "Arthur is a good man, and he will not punish you for being what you are."
Cai was still for a long time. I was asking him to betray his people and to run away with his enemy. After a moment he gave the slightest of nods. Andrivete scrambled out of the hole as I took the blade away from Cai's neck. She flung herself upon him and I could see him relishing the first time he was able to wrap his arms around the girl. I left them to hold each other as I snuck around front. No one was paying attention as I ducked by the door and opened it hastily. Ealasaid and Yseult supported Guinevere as they hustled outside. We stole around to the hidden side of the prison hut and looked at each other. For several moments, Cai was subjected to many suspicious looks.
"Swear you will not betray us." I said solemnly. The dagger was still in my hand, and I was fully prepared to use it at his first sign of hesitation. He looked at Andrivete.
"I swear." Cai said loudly. Guinevere nodded and looked around as she continued to hold her stomach. Her breathing reminded me of a wounded animal.
"Do you have a plan?" Yseult asked me as we huddled behind the hut.
"I know of the two main gates. Are there any others?" I asked Cai.
"There is a smaller gate to the south. It will be guarded though." He said looking nervous. I looked towards the main fortress. It would be of no use to us. There were several smaller buildings surrounding it however.
"What is in that building?" I asked pointing to a stone building.
"Weapons." He said. I nodded.
"Follow me." I said as I began to travel towards the building using the shadow of the wall. We ducked under a lean to behind the building. Yseult and I sprinted to the front of the building and slipped through the door. The light was poor and dusty. I heard a man scream somewhere in the city below. Yseult began grabbing bundles of arrows and a few bows. My lip curled at the sight of the bows. I wanted my own damn bow. These bows were pathetic, but I was loathe to use a crossbow. Most of the Saxons had their own weapons, so the room was used mainly to store spears and arrows. There were however a few piles of spare swords and such. I tossed aside a few rusty blades before I found a small sword. I hefted the blade up and examined it. It edges were chipped but fairly sharp. I would have to do. I picked up another dagger and tucked it away. I handed Yseult a sword and grabbed another one for Ealasaid or Andrivete. I froze as I hear voices. Yseult and I hid behind a rack of spears and held our breath. Two men hustled in and began throwing bundles of spears over their shoulders. I stepped out quietly and crept up behind one of the men. I put a hand over his mouth and shoved the blade between his ribs. Before the other man could make a sound, Yseult had opened up his throat. We grabbed a few more weapons and then left.
"Here." I said tossing Andrivete a sword. I looked at Cai for a moment. I did not think it would be fair or wise to put him in the position of fighting his own people.
"Can you get her outside these walls?" I said nodding the direction of the queen.
"There is a door we can use to get out of the inner wall. But the wooden wall is guarded…" He said slowly as he pointed to the wall some ways off. . The panic was making his mouth rebel against the use of our language.
"You keep her safe." I ordered. I didn't care much what the others did. "I'm going to help Arthur."
And with that I began running to the door. I threw aside the heavy wooden latch and darted out. I was free. I ran down the worn pathway that served as a road to the bottom of the hill. Some areas of the hill were just small stone huts with crude animal pens while other places were made up of large buildings set more closely together. All of it was abandoned however. I made my way towards the southern gate and stopped behind a clump of huts. A small forced of perhaps sixty men were holding the gate. They were at the ready to fire arrows at the larger force several hundred yards out side the fence. I looked towards them and scoured their ranks for the faces of someone I held dear. There were several figures on horseback, but I could not see any of them clearly. From the look of things, it would take hours for them to take the southern gate. That wouldn't do. I ducked into a hut and looked around. The woman who lived there had put out her hearth fire before she fled to the inner gates. I knelt at the hearth and began striking a piece of flint. Soon I had a small fire going in the circular hearth. I smiled grimly as I stared at the flames. I went to the bed pressed against the wall and began grabbing blankets. I ripped the fabrics up and laid them down. I pilled kindling on them all and tied them up. I held the eight small bundles in my arm and lit the ragged tops on fire. I walked calmly outside and tossed them on various roofs. Within moments the entire area was ablaze. The men down at the wall began shouting. They began scrambling to get to their homes. I ducked behind the buildings and made my way down to the gate. A handful of the Saxons had resisted the urge to run to the fires, and they still guarded the gate. Their leader, a brawny man with reddish hair, was screaming like a rabid beast at his men who were trying to put out the fires. I looked at the gate and at the seven men who still guarded it. I had to act quickly…The rather humble gate was held shut by a wooden latch the length of my entire frame. It would take all my strength to push it up and out of the hooks that held it…
It wouldn't be long before the Saxons returned to the gate. I drew the Saxon sword and ran out towards the first man. His eyes widened in shock as he fell to the ground with a hole in his abdomen. The second man fell easily also with a slash across the side of his neck. By the time I reached the third man, he had drawn his sword clumsily. He was unprepared for an attack however, and I knocked his sword away after a few moments. The leader and the three men left with him turned to me with ready swords. The ruddy faced captain barked an order to one of the men who immediately dropped to one knee and grabbed his crossbow. I threw myself to the ground and heard an ominous whizzing sound where my torso had been only moments before. Before he could load again, I hopped up to my knees and swept my blade like a farmer with a scythe. He fell backwards sending a bright ribbon of blood into the air. The crimson color seemed too gaudy and vivid against the smoky air. The leader began yelling to the men who were further up on the hill. I launched myself at him and distracted him for a moment. He swung at my head and I ducked just in time to see the man behind me take a stab at my back. I twisted to the side and imbedded the small knife into a young man's chest. He fell with a gasp and landed at the feet of the leader. I parried several more blows before swiping at the man's stomach. Blood souped around my feet in a gory puddle. Two left. The men at the top of the hill still had not noticed the small battle down here at the gate. I dispatched the last two men and looked to the gate. I stabbed my pitiful sword into the ground and began trying to loosen the wooden latch. After several futile attempts, I swung my shoulder into. Pain crackled into life around my bones, but the latch had shifted. I swung twice more until I could move it with my arm. I threw the gate open and rubbed my arm.
The host of woads and Britons stared at me for a moment as if not understanding. Even the men on horseback just shuffled back and forth. Finally I waved at them to charge forward, and they obeyed. Now the Saxons farther up the hill noticed what was going on. I found myself directly between the rush of the oncoming forces. Wonderful. I realized that the Saxons were going to reach the gate first. I grabbed the wooden latch and ran outside the gates with it. I nearly laughed at the thought of their faces when they realized they couldn't lock the gate. I dropped the latch some ways out and looked at the cavalry riding towards me. I recognized the faces of Lancelot, Gawain and Galahad. Galahad held out an arm as he rode towards me, and I swung up on the horse using his forearm. I laughed as we rode towards the gates. The Saxons almost had it closed when we neared it, but their mouths dropped as they saw the forced heading towards them at breakneck speed. They fled from the gate to avoid being trampled as we swept through the gate. We were in. The Britons on foot immediately took care of the thirty or so Saxons. Galahad twisted in his saddled to look at me.
"Galahad!" I cried out. Perhaps it was the fact that I had not seen him in over eight months, or maybe it was that his was the first face I had seen in months to offer comfort. Either way, I felt as if I had never loved him more in all the years I had known him. He smiled and pulled me off the horse with him to the ground. I threw my arms around him, nearly forgetting we were in a battle, and kissed him. It was a wonderful kiss. No man had ever kissed me that way. It wasn't chaste in any way, and I loved it.
"Ahem." I heard Lancelot say. We looked up at the two knights who were giving us odd looks.
"Galahad, what have I told you about being greedy?" Gawain said in his lofty voice. I laughed and winced as my shoulder complained. I kissed Galahad hard on the lips once more and squeezed him.
"I missed you." He said burrowing his face into my hair. He pulled away with a disgusted expression.
"What? It's not my fault I couldn't bathe." I said narrowing my eyes.
"You look ravishing." Gawain said mockingly. Lancelot looked angry.
"They've kept you in this state for all this time?" He asked with a dangerous edge to his voice.
"Don't worry. We'll survive." I said and suddenly I thought of Guinevere. "Lancelot, Guinevere is going to have the baby."
Their faces paled.
"Where is she?" Lancelot asked with a grim expression. I decided that I didn't want to be a Saxon in his way at that moment.
"I don't know. They are being led by a Saxon to safety." I said and hurried to explain when their faces turned to horror. "He's helping us."
They looked doubtful, but I assumed they wouldn't impale him on sight.
"Arthur is at the northern gate?" I asked.
"Yes. We should make our way there." Galahad said as he held me close for another moment. He seemed changed almost…He looked a bit older. I touched his face and pushed him towards his horse.
"You two take half the men and go help Arthur." I said taking charge. I had been trapped in this damned place all winter. I deserved a little authority. "Lancelot and I will take the rest and go find Guinevere."
Surprisingly, they nodded and Galahad began rounding up the warriors.
"You know, I love it when you're domineering." Gawain said suggestively.
"I'm telling Ragnelle." I said flatly.
"Good to see the Saxons haven't ruined your sense of humor." Lancelot said pulling me up on the horse with him. We began riding up the hill with the others behind us. The thrill of it all was overwhelming. We rode around several of the pathways until we ended up at the door in the stone wall.
"They must be still inside." I said trying to push down my alarm. A woman embellished with fierce woad designs opened the heavy door we rode in.
"Guinevere!" Lancelot called out and I could tell he was trying to hold in his panic.
"Here!" I heard Andrivete's voice call out. I saw her fair head poking out of a window in a round building. We made our way to here just as we saw the entire Saxon army pour in the gates. Arthur must have broken into the lower gate. I put a restraining hand on Lancelot.
"Don't. We'll give their position away." I said urgently. He nodded and we changed our course for the Saxons. The men and women behind us roared with a war cry. I saw Meleagan turn to look at us with surprise. There was no way now that they could lock the gates. He snarled and began running towards us. I grabbed a hold of Lancelot's bow and hopped off the horse. I began firing at the Saxons who had neared the queen's hiding place which looked to be a granary. I took down eight before I was forced to use the sword that hung at my waist. I looked up to see Meleagan heading towards the granary. He knew. Lancelot saw this also and began riding towards him. I turned away to face the huge man who stood before me with an axe that was almost as large as I was. I skidded away from the huge axe as it slammed into the place where I had been. The weeks in the cold hut had not done wonders for my health, and I felt myself tiring. I knew I need to do as much fighting as I could before I was too weak. I ducked and slashed at his stomach. I was not quick enough to dodge the surge of blood that sprayed out of the dying man's torso. I closed my eyes and mouth as tightly as I could and toppled backwards. I looked down at myself as I stood up and grimaced. I was drenched in blood from the top of my head to my waist. Tristan was going to be speechless at the sign of my beauty. Eh. I looked upwards as I heard the scream of the man running towards me. I wanted a challenge, not a mad man. Sidestepping his clumsy sword stroke, I lodged the sword firmly in his a stomach. I wrenched it out and stepped over his body to the next man. I looked towards the gate and saw the Saxons with their backs pressed to each other. They were now fighting Arthur's army outside of the gate, and inside the walls. I felt no pity for them.
Face still somber, I turned sharply towards the sound of a woman shrieking. Andrivete was screaming furiously at a man who had snuck up behind Lancelot and shoved a blade in between the shoulder joints of his armor. Meleagan took the opportunity to kick the knight into the stone wall. I ran towards them and stepped in front of the Saxon king. His expression was one of mixed fear and desperation. Getting to the queen was his only chance for victory, or at least survival. Saxons grouped around us, preventing any more help from reaching us. I saw a man try to crawl through the granary window, but he fell to the ground a moment later with a spear sticking out of his side. Good. At least they could protect themselves for a while. I prayed that Arthur would get through soon. A very, very ugly man launched himself at me with a cry. I parried his blow while making sure I didn't back up into the waiting swords of the Saxons behind me. The ground was icy and slippery. I dug my heels in and drove the man to the ground. Before he could get up, I crouched beside him and slit his throat. I was up in and instant, waiting for the next attack. Just then, a small band of a woads rushed into the fray. I took the moment to lunge at Meleagan. He parried my blow with ease struck at my head. I pulled my sword up to meet his at the last moment and shoved his blade away from me. I drew the dagger and slashed at his arm. He flinched as it cut through his leather jerkin and shoved me backwards with his sword.
Lancelot was back up in a moment, and he slashed at the Saxon king's legs as I fell back. A cross bolt slammed into his own leg and he fell to his knee. I parried the blow that would have decapitated my friend. I stepped back and watched Meleagan as he prepared to attack me. He was a hale man in his prime, and he would most certainly have more energy than me in my present condition. I need to finish him off now. I feinted to the left and then swung in an arc towards him. I caught him off guard and rendered his right arm useless. He snarled and swung his huge broadsword at my shoulder. I spun away and it skimmed my back lightly. I was panting. I gathered all my strength as Meleagan glared at me. I swung at him and he parried it. I did it again and again trying my best to wear him out, to make him stumble. Finally his foot slipped and he fell to one knee. That was all it took. He brought his sword up as I swung my own. His head flew off his shoulders and his body toppled backwards. His sword took a moment longer to fall because it was stuck in something. My stomach. I looked down in surprise at the hole in my lower abdomen. It wasn't a slash or a cut. His sword had gone deep into the left side of my stomach near my hip bone. My breathing became deep and ragged. I touched the wound and my hand came away a deep red. It was the dark, nearly black blood that came from deep within the body. I stared at it dazedly for a few moments. Lancelot appeared at my side and his face was strange as he looked at my blood soaked stomach. I felt the hot liquid trickle down my pants. I was vaguely aware that Lancelot must have loved me a lot to have rushed to my side instead of Guinevere's. Loved me a lot…
I shook my head suddenly and stared at Meleagan's head. His face was frozen into a hateful expression. I picked it up by the flaxen hair and staggered over to the stairs that led up to the top of the wall. I leaned heavily against the wall as I lurched up the stairs painfully. My left foot was soaked with the blood that had drained down my leg. I felt lightheaded, and I knew I wasn't far from passing out. I reached the top of the wall and stared down at the battle beneath me. Arthur's main force was locked in combat with the Saxons at the gate. It was obvious that the true invaders, the Saxons, were out numbered. I swung my arm and threw the king's head over the wall. It seemed to pause in the air for a moment before plummeting into the center of the crowd. The Saxons who saw it began to be still. Soon most of the fighting had stopped. One of the men held up the head of their defeated leader, and they looked up at me. They had lost, and they knew it. One by one they dropped their weapons and were forced to their knees by the Britons. I caught sight of Arthur before I decided it was time to sit down. I was going to faint very soon, and I figured it was better to do so while already on the ground. It would save me a bit of humiliation, and keep me from toppling backwards over the wall. It was perfect timing…As soon as my back rested against the wall, my entire world went black.
"Don't let her bite through her tongue!" I heard a man yell out. Pain. Lots of pain. I was in a room on a bed covered in furs. Voices. I heard a shriek in the distance. It was Guinevere.
"Guinevere." I managed to croak the name as my eyes adjusted to the dim firelight. A rough hand stroked my forehead.
"She's having the baby." A voice said soothingly. I grimaced. I wanted to be there for her…I looked to where the voice had come from. Dagonet was a standing at my feet. I tried to smile at him but another explosion went off near my hip and I was forced to use all my energy from crying out.
"She's loosing blood. I can't stop it." A man I had never seen before said. He was hunched over my stomach, trying to staunch the flow long enough to look around. The hand that stroked my face paused for a moment and I looked towards the man. Tristan. I decided that if I was to die right then, it would be fine. I would be with the people I loved. "She needs proper care. I'm not skilled enough for this wound."
"Will she survive?" Galahad asked. His voice was strained. I gritted my teeth as a new pain caught fire. Gods above it hurt.
"There's a piece of the blade stuck under the skin. I need to get it out and then stop the blood. Then she needs another healer. If this can be done, she will survive. But even then she may not be able to bear a child. The sword was very close to her womb." The healer said as he wiped away more blood. I let out a cry without meaning to. I wanted to scream. I no longer even felt the physical pain. It was the words of the healer that seemed to steal the breath from my lungs. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair…
"We can't wait for the herbs, I need to get the metal out." The healer said pinching the bridge of his nose. He grabbed a knife and began patting the blood off my skin. Tristan turned my face until I was looking at him. I felt the edge of the blade touch my skin and I clamped my jaws shut. I saw Gawain hold out his hands as if he wanted to help, but then he turned away and looked at the wall. I took in a breath sharply and then let it out in a hiss. I locked eyes with Tristan. The pain was overwhelming… He put his face close to mine until our noses touched. I felt my eyes water as the healer put more pressure on the blade. I put a hand on Tristan's shoulder and squeezed. Looking around the room was strange…The flames seemed to be dancing all around the room… My friends were no longer men, they were strange warbling shadows…I felt my hand go limp on Tristan's shoulder. It was too hard and too painful to remain conscious, so I let go.
Whew...Maybe it seems short to yall, but it took me forever to write. I really really hope yall like. Review if you don't mind. Commend my effort atleast. Anyways yall got what you asked for. A little battle, a little Tristan, a little Arthur coming to the rescue, a little cliffhanger...By the way, don't hate me for that cliffhanger thing. The resolution of the story is nearer than you think.
