a/n: Well I'm not so bullheaded that I won't listen to my reviewers. When I found out that more than one reviewer objected to my writing style, I decided to try switching it up a bit just for kicks and giggles. Hope this is easier to read. Also I realized going back and reading through the last chptr really makes Camille sound like a Mary Sue. I promise I'm not turning her into one, that's about as slutty as she gets. I guess it all got concentrated into one chptr. Sorry. Anywho, this one should be a little better. Further more, I've found that I don't really need to ask for 5 reviews, you guys have been super nice and generous, so further requests are not neccesary. Thanx sooo much for reading and please review.
Camille had been forced to run from the courtyard when she could not keep the tears back any longer. Once she was safe in the dark she buried her face in her hands and sobbed, keening for a love she was sure was going to die with her. As she saddled and bridled her horse, the stallion whinnied softly, as if sensing that something was wrong.
Mechanically, she threw on her cloak and found the reins. She rode out to the gates and yelled up for the guardsmen to open it to her. Seeing the tears, one of the more cocky ones yelled to her "Do not weep for us pretty one, when you return my bed will be yet unturned, waiting for you!" she sniffed and yelled back
"Believe me when I say that I weep not for you but for a cause above your understanding and unreachable for me as the sun now set"
With her parting words still cleaving the air she galloped out into through the huge gates and into the black, foreboding, Briton night.
When he heard the gates clang shut again, Lancelot felt as if something was dying within him. The other knights, knowing something had happened, gathered around his table, shedding their drinks and women.
"She has left us?" Tristran guessed, his eyes telling his friend that he could sense the pain he was feeling
"Gone. To die" he said, his voice hollow, as if only a shell remained of the man he had been but two days prior.
"Camille" he whispered. As if on cue a hawk's scream rent the air and Tristran's bird landed on his arm. His brow furrowed, Tristran murmured into the hawk's ear
"Find her, watch over her" with a second shrill screech, the hawk took off circling the air above them, dipping its wings as if in acknowledging the request. Then it took off like a shaft from a crossbow, soaring off into the sky. The knight drew his long, curved sword swearing solemnly
"Lancelot, my friend and companion, yours is not the only heart she bears with her. I pledge my life and sword to our lady, should she ever require protection from either." Silently the others drew their own blades, in salute and agreement. Lancelot was last to draw, raising his swords to the sky and bringing them down with a clear, bone-jarring ring of metal on metal.
"Knights!" announced Arthur, emerging from the great hall "We ride at first light to meet the carriage of bishop Germanus of Rome! He carries your discharge papers!" the knights cheered, but only half-heartedly as if they felt guilty doing so. Seeing the look that passed between Arthur and Lancelot, they left to reclaim their drinks and women. "What is it" he asked
"She's gone" he replied quietly
"Left you for another man my friend? Well, it is a sad thing but do not dwell on one woman! They can be found in abundance right under your nose; besides, I'm sure that we would be hard-pressed to find one who would turn you down this night."
"No, she's not left me for a man, she rode out on a mission; one she doesn't think she'll return from. She couldn't even tell me where she was going" he answered dully
"Well you must have anticipated that she was returning to family somewhere" Arthur said practically, coming again to the wrong conclusion.
"No, Arthur, not leave and never return as in family, no, no, leave and never return, die, never. She left me for a mission she thought she would not survive." He said brokenly
"Well she's an excellent swordswoman, I'm sure she can protect herself-" Arthur trailed off pathetically realizing that his words were having no effect. "At least I know of one medicine that cures all ills- drink and travel. Tonight you drink until you can drink no more, and tomorrow we ride. Perhaps your swords will find comfort in slicing through some Woad necks."
"If they be the ones that take her from me, nothing on this earth will keep me from my vengeance." He replied, his voice steel. The next morning after some serious drinking and womanizing, the Sarmatian knights rode out on the mission that would assure their freedom. Knowing that they rode through dangerous territory, they were terse and silent, each urging his mount to a quicker pace, thinking the sooner the bishop was reached the better. After a long day's ride, the reached a high bluff, where Arthur reined in his steed, pointing to a small caravan below them at the bottom of the hill. "The bishop's carriage" said Gwain triumphantly
"Our freedom Bors" smiled Galahad
"Mmm" replied Bors, smacking his lips
"Its so close I can almost taste it" His eye caught by a flash of color different from the roman red and gold, lancelot looked back sharply and found, amid the small guard of soldiers, a black charger, its rider petite and cloaked in midnight blue. A huge smile broke over his face like the sun after a storm . Behind him, the others smiled as well, knowing that there was a ninety nine percent chance that the rider was Camille who they knew to be Lancelot's but whom each was fond of anyways. Suddenly, an arrow streaked through the air, to hit a roman soldier, who toppled off his horse dead, following close behind came a veritable rain of arrows and a large band of fierce blue painted warriors.
"Woads" Arthur yelled. The seven knights raged down the hillside, anxious to save the man who was the bearer off that which they held most dear. Lancelot however, rode faster than them all, outdistancing them, determined not to loose the petite warrior he had come to love. She was on the opposite side of the carriage, defending its door from the barbarians when she was unhorsed. Furious, she leapt to her feet drew the rapiers and screamed her battle cry to the open skies, laughing defiantly at the fear it generated on the faces of her foes. He heard the singing and rounded the carriage to watch her cutting down the barbarian warriors as if they were standing still. Fierce pride rose in him at this as he cut a bloody path through the sea of blade wielding humanity in his path. Suddenly he heard a different noise-the cry of a woman wounded. He looked up to see her head thrown back as she screamed again, a Celtic bolt protruding from her shoulder. As if he felt the arrow as keenly as she he bellowed hoarsely in rage and rode to her side, his two swords wreaking deadly punishment on the Woads around him. Blood running down her arm and chest, she fought on, singing, no longer the hypnotizing lullaby, but an angry torrent of music, the words to ancient curses weaving themselves through the fabric of the hate and pain she felt. Terrified by the strength of the charms she was promising, her opponents retreated only to be met by the vengeful blades of the knights who had sworn to protect her, but had arrived seconds too late. One, more ambitious than the others, and hoping for an easy glory, turned from the swords of the Sarmatians and charged towards Camille, whose song was fading on her lips as she leaned on her swords to keep her upright. Weakly she drew the dagger, attempting to fend him off, but he knocked it aside and clubbed her face with his sword hilt, knocking her to the ground. Howling his victory, his raised his broadsword, in preparation to bring it down upon her. He looked up however, to meet the blood-crazed eyes of Lancelot who slammed down the Woads sword, smashed the hilt of the other into the man's face, and forcing him to fall to his knees. In a quick move, the crossed swords were at the man's throat, and he pulled swiftly towards him, severing the Woad's jugular veins on both sides, splattering his face and blades with blood. Allowing the warrior to sink to the ground dead, he rushed to her side and lifted her head to see that her face was badly bruised, lips dripping blood. He lifted her head and her eyelids fluttered as her chest rose weakly.
"I was returning" she gasped then coughed feebly.
"Returning to..you…" As if the words had exhausted her, her eyes slowly closed and her head dropped back.
Thanks again for reading. For another great K.A. fic try out Lalane Michaels galahad O.C. fic, it will have u absolutely rolling w/ laughter.