Six
Sometimes a troop of damsels glad,
An abbot on an ambling pad,
Sometimes a curly shepherd-lad,
Or long-hair'd page in crimson clad,
Goes by to tower'd Camelot;
And sometimes thro' the mirror blue
The knights come riding two and two:
She hath no loyal knight and true,
The Lady of Shalott.
Annya dunked the cloth that she had ripped from her dress into the pail of water. She squeezed out the diluted blood from the cloth back into the bucket. She sighed as she pushed the cold rag to the bloodied side of Lancelot. He breathed in sharply and gripped the rock beside him until his knuckles turned white. Annya cleaned the inside of the wound with her cloth. Lancelot's chest started to rise and fall more quickly and his breath started to sound raspy.
The arrow that pierced Lancelot's side went deep. He was lucky, though. If the arrow had been half an inch further up, down, or to any side, it would have broken one of Lancelot's ribs. The marrow of the rib would have entered his blood stream, making him have a high fever, and then kill him. It had been difficult to remove the arrow from his side and cause Lancelot so much pain at times, that he fainted. Now, Annya had to properly clean the wound, try to sew him back up, and find some plants to help him heal.
Annya put the blood soaked cloth back into the bucket. She felt Lancelot's forehead with her hand – it was burning hot, but Lancelot was shivering. Annya got up and grabbed the bucket and threw out the bloodied water onto the ground. She put the bucket outside and waited for it to fill with the rain pounding the ground. When it was filled a bit, she took the bucket back under the rock they were staying under. She rinsed the blood stained cloth and then put it on Lancelot's forehead. She then again, threw out the water and put the bucket back under the rain.
Annya put a blanket on Lancelot. After those men had attacked them, they had barely just escaped. Annya found the shelter they were under right now after hours of riding around in the forest. The shelter wasn't much. It was just part of a boulder that the top jetted out about fifteen feet. Never the less, it would have to do. Annya had waited here for a day before going back to the cave where the men had attacked them. Surprisingly, none of their things were touched, and Annya brought it back to where they were staying right now. They had not gone back to the cave for the fear of being attacked again.
Annya poked a stick at the fire that she had made. She thought back to her home. The flames that she was staring at took the form of her home. Annya was seeing herself as a child playing with Febar. He was pushing her on a swing. Higher and higher she swung until she jumped off and toppled onto the cool grass. Febar came running at her and started to tickle her until she was crying from laughing too hard.
"Annya," came a voice. Annya came back into reality and she walked over to where Lancelot was lying down.
"Yes?" she asked softly.
"Would you bring me that saddle bag, please?" Lancelot asked as he pointed to a saddle bag at the back of the shelter.
Annya walked over to the bag and brought it to Lancelot. He started to search through it until he took out what seemed like ragged boy's clothes. He held them out to her, and she took them.
"I brought them for you. I thought that it would be safer for you to travel as a boy rather than a girl." Lancelot paused to catch his breath. Just talking took an enormous effort for him. "I also think that it would be easier for you to move around in instead of a dress." He smiled.
Annya opened the clothes. There was a brown pair of pants, a white shirt, and a brown pull over jacket that had a hood on it. They were peasant boy clothes. Annya just looked at them. As much as she despised the idea of wearing poor boy clothes, she knew that it was for the best. Being a girl at the moment was not the safest thing right now. Look at what being a girl got her: under a rock in the pouring rain.
"Thank you," Annya said. "I'm sure these will come in handy."
Lancelot's eyes strayed to Annya's hair that fell around her waist. "Annya," he paused trying to figure out what words to use. "You're hair…"
Annya's hands shot up to her hair and she grabbed her silvery gold hair. "No! I can't! I can't cut it off!"
"It's for the best."
"No! I can't! At least not now. If a time comes when I really need to cut it off, then I will."
"Very well,"
Lancelot closed his eyes. Annya went to go sit beside him. She took out some bread from the saddle bag and gave some to Lancelot, then started to eat some herself.
"I fear the last time that we tried to get to know each other did not turn out that well." Lancelot smiled, with his eyes still closed.
"I think that it was just less of a disaster." Annya chuckled.
"Shall we continue?"
"We shall."
"Tell me about your home."
Annya stiffened. How could she lie about her home? The subject was too complicated to lie about. If she described her home in her world, Lancelot would know that she was not from Camelot as she said she was. If she tried to make up a home, it would be too hard to describe and Lancelot would know that she was lying. But if she told him the truth, would he understand? Why would his attitude towards her change if she told him that she was a fairy? It wasn't like being a fairy made her evil or anything. She made up her mind. She would tell Lancelot the truth.
"Lancelot," Annya said. "Before I do tell you about me home, there is something else that I must tell you."
With his eyes still closed. Lancelot said, "Ok, go ahead."
Annya paused wondering she had made the right decision. "I'm not who you think I am."
Lancelot opened his eyes and looked her. "What do you mean?" he asked, now one his guard.
"I mean that I am not of this world."
When Lancelot didn't say anything, Annya said, "I am a fairy."
He just looked at her with the same expression on his face. With a great effort, Lancelot moved away from where Annya was sitting.
"But Lancelot!" Annya cried as she got up from the floor. Lancelot just responded by reaching down his boot and took out a dagger from it.
Annya walked to the opposite end of the shelter from Lancelot. She felt as if he had just slapped her across the face and told her that he hated her. She got another blanket from the second saddle bag and lay down to sleep for there was nothing else to do. Annya silently cried herself to sleep. She had trusted Lancelot.
The next morning, Lancelot acted just the same. He wouldn't let Annya come near him and didn't touch the food or water that Annya brought him. And so it went for the next day and the next, until Annya saw that Lancelot's wound started to ooze a yellow and green puss. She could tell that his fever wasn't getting any better from him not eating or drinking anything.
"Lancelot," Annya said that morning. "You may try to kill me with your dagger, but I am still going to clean that wound of yours because it is starting to become infected. If it is not treated soon, you will most likely die from it."
Annya placed a bucket of water near Lancelot. She kneeled down beside him and took of the blanket that was covering him. To her surprise, he did not try to stab her with his knife.
The puss had dried up and now crusted the wound. Annya saw that she would have to take the dried puss off is she was to clean the wound. The rag would not be able to take it off – the puss was too hard.
"May I borrow your dagger?" Annya asked Lancelot. He looked at her as if she had asked the most stupid question ever. "I need to cut off the puss that has crusted over your wound."
Reluctantly, Lancelot gave Annya his dagger. Annya quickly grabbed it from his out stretched hand. She unsheathed it, and stuck the blade, up to the hilt, in the red coal of the fire, which she kept burning constantly. She watched the blade of the dagger become redder and redder with her back to Lancelot.
Why am I even doing this for him? Annya thought. He treats me as if I were a demon or something terribly evil. It is as if he thinks that I'm going to kill him at any time. How stupid of him. Of all the chances that I was able to, he think that I will now. Pathetic, really.
A little bubble of anger started to swell in her chest.
After all the things that I have done for him! Annya continued to herself. I was caring for him while he was sick, I saved his life when those men attacked us, and I've followed his orders and have kept him company. And the things that he has done for me! I guess he thinks all of that in vain. Humph! Men!
Annya pulled the dagger out of the fire so fast that it sounded like someone pulling out his sword from its sheath with much haste. Lancelot whipped his head around to face Annya. He looked at her with angry eyes asking her what in the world she was doing.
Annya brought the flaming red blade of the dagger over to Lancelot. She sat beside him.
"Wait!" Lancelot croaked. It was the first time he had spoken to her since she told him that she was a fairy. It took her by surprise.
"What?" Annya answered coldly.
"You're not going to put that blade on me."
"Oh? And who says that I'm not going to?"
"You would be mad to do so."
"Just as mad as someone to all of a sudden fear someone because they told you that they were different from you? Oh! Or how about this one? How about fearing that a person that you have been with for a few weeks already might kill you although they had many chances to do so before. Does that sound mad to you too? It certainly does to me."
Lancelot was silent. He would not even look Annya in the eye.
"Oh, very well," Annya said. "I will cool the blade." Annya dunked the flaming blade into the bucket of water beside her. As soon as the blade touched the water, a sizzling sound came from the bucket, followed by a large amount of steam. She took the dagger out from the water and shook the water running off the tip of the blade. She started to cut off the hard puss and did it so roughly that Lancelot cried out.
"Ouch!" he roared. "What do you think you're doing?"
"Taking off the puss around your wound." Annya answered simply.
"Do you think you could be any gentler?" Lancelot said sarcastically.
"Maybe," Annya gave Lancelot the sheath of the dagger to hold on to. "You'll need that."
Lancelot took it from her and when Annya continued to cut, he gripped the sheath of the dagger until Annya thought that it would break.
"Almost done." Annya said. Lancelot, if possible, just gripped to sheath even harder.
As Annya cut, the hardened yellow green puss fell in a small pile near Lancelot. When she finished, she saw that she would have to clean and close the wound; otherwise it would become even more infected. She took her cloth and cleaned the wound. Fresh puss started to seep out of the wound.
"This is going to hurt." Annya said. She put the dagger back into the red coals and then went back to Lancelot and began to squeeze his wound so that all the puss would come out. Lancelot gritted his teeth slowly as Annya did this.
Eventually, the wound started to give out blood instead of the yellow and green puss. She wiped the blood away with her cloth and tore off another piece of her dress.
"You'll need this to bit on." She said as she handed it to Lancelot.
He took it, but did not put it in his mouth right away. Annya went to get the dagger from the flames of the fire. It looked hotter than ever. The edges of the blade were almost white from the heat.
"This is going to really hurt, but I must close up your wound." Lancelot looked at the blazing red metal in Annya's hand. There was fear is his eyes for a second, but then bravery spread out over his face. He stuffed the cloth that Annya had given him into his mouth, and he gripped the sheath again.
Annya knelt down beside him and pressed his wound together so that the wound was closed. She quickly placed the dagger onto his skin. A sizzling sound came and Annya could smell his burning flesh.
Lancelot gripped his sheath in his hand so hard that his arm started to tremble. He had his jaw locked in a furious grip around the cloth in his mouth. Sweat started to roll off his face.
Annya moved the blade to the last opening in his wound. Then she stopped – she was done. She dropped the dagger into the bucket beside her and steam rose from the pail.
"Done," Annya said in a tired tone.
Lancelot's grip on the sheath relaxed and he spat out the cloth in his mouth. He wiped the sweat off his face with his arm. His breathing started to slow down.
"It still hurts." He whispered.
"Well, of course! You just had your skin seared together. What do you expect?"
Lancelot took in a deep breath. "Thank you." He breathed.
Annya stood there in shock. She swallowed the anger that she had and said, "You're welcome."
"Look," Lancelot said. "I know that I was treating you badly. I was in the wrong for doing that. You told me that you were a fairy in the confidence that I would treat you just the same as before."
Annya nodded, for that is what she thought.
"At first," Lancelot continued. "I didn't know what to think. But then I decided that I should stay away from you because of the stories that I heard from others. All the terrible things that some fairies did to man."
"But I'm not like those kinds of fairies! I'm differ-" Lancelot cut her off by putting up his hand to stop her from explaining herself.
"I know, I know. I have just realized that now. I was thinking about what you said about all the times that you could have killed me and did not. You know, I don't really know where I'm going with this, but I told myself to treat you like a human and not some God forsaken creature. So, I guess what I'm really trying to say is that I'm sorry. I was in the wrong."
Annya just looked at Lancelot. "Oh," she finally said. "Well, umm, I guess that you're hungry and thirsty. I'll get you something.
She walked over to the fire place where there was a put full of vegetable stew. She took out the last piece of bread that they had and put it in the stew. Then, because they only had a pot and a bucket to put things in, she brought over the whole pot.
"Eat, I'll get some water." Annya took the pail that had the dagger in it and gave it back to Lancelot. She threw out the water in the bucket and then took the bridle for Lancelot's horse. She walked outside their shelter.
"Theo!" she called. That was Lancelot's horse's name. "Theo!" she called again in her sing song voice.
A shrill whiney could be heard and seconds later, Lancelot's blood bay came out of the trees, trotting towards Annya.
"Good boy, Theo. Come her. I need to get some water." Annya put the bucket down and held up the bridle by the sides, gave Theo the bit, and slipped the rest of the bridle over his massive head. She then picked up the bucket and placed it on a high rock. She was going to vault on to Theo. She placed a hand on his shoulders, took a small jump, then took a bigger jump and swung her leg over Theo's hind quarters and pushed herself up with her hands.
She had to sit like a man on the horse because there was no side saddle and if she sat sideways, she would fall off. It was extremely uncomfortable to sit like this with a dress on. Her dress went up past her knee for her to be able to spread her legs on either side of the horse. Annya remembered the boy clothes that Lancelot had given her and asked herself why she didn't put them on. Never mind, she had things to do without thinking about how uncomfortable her dress felt on her right now.
Annya leaned forward and whispered, "Ready for a good ride, Theo?"
Theo tossed his huge and elegant head. His fiery eyes widened, showing the white. He pawed the ground with a hoof and starts to prance on the spot. Annya felt his muscles tighten underneath her.
So this is what you've been itching for, Annya thought. One good ride – something that you haven't had for a while. Well you'll get the ride of your lifetime.
Theo was starting to twitch from excitement and hardly needed encouragement to get going, so when Annya gently pressed her heels to his sides, Theo was off at a full gallop. Annya made him jump a log, stopped, and then turned him towards to rock that the bucket was on.
"Let's see how good you are at sharp turns, shall we?" Annya said while staring at the bucket sitting on the rock. Theo was taking a step forwards then backwards from excitement.
Annya kicked Theo on his sides and gave him his head. She stared at the bucket as if she were trying to pierce it with her eyes. She put the reins in her right hand while she held her left out in front of her. Theo was eating up the ground and the bucket was racing towards her.
Theo seemed to know what Annya wanted and he put an extra burst of speed. When Theo's head came to the tip of the rock, Annya pulled the reins across Theo's muscular neck and dug her right heel into his side to turn him around the rock. Annya leaned down and squeezed her legs even harder around Theo to not fall off him. She grabbed the bucket by the handle and quickly straightened herself.
"Let's get some water!" she laughed.
Annya and Theo raced through the forest. The dogged trees and jumped over fallen logs and gaps in the ground. They made it to the cave in record time, and when they arrived there, there weren't tears in Annya's eyes from just the wind; she couldn't stop grinning. Theo seemed to have thoroughly enjoyed himself and was now steaming.
Annya dismounted him and walked to the streams edge, filled her bucket and poured the water over his steaming body. She would walk him back to their shelter to cool him off. Annya put the reins back over his head to rest on his neck and he went off to graze nearby.
Annya dipped her hot feet into the cool sparkling water of the stream. She splashed herself to cool her hot body. It felt so good! The cold water ran down her fair skin, dancing in the sun like diamonds.
After cooling herself down, she filled the bucket with water and called Theo to her side. She again placed the filled bucket on a rock and then mounted Theo. She walked him towards the rock, and picked up the bucket carefully to not splash and water.
As soon as she had entered the trees, she heard someone splash the stream. She stopped Theo, dismounted, placed the water on the ground, and told Theo to stay where he was. She silently approached the edge of the trees to see who had come to the stream.
What Annya saw shocked her so much that she had to clasp a hand over her mouth to muffle her scream. It was Murtag and some of his men. Annya recognized some of them. She saw that Holt was there and Morzan was just behind Murtag.
"Did you hear something?" Murtag asked to no one in particular.
Annya still had her hand over her mouth as she tried to slow down her breathing. Her heart thumped painfully against her chest.
"No sir," Morzan replied. "Maybe it was a bird."
"Perhaps," Murtag said.
Annya saw that Murtag and splashed his face with water from the stream for water was dripping off his face. He wiped it with his sleeve and stood up.
"So," Murtag said to his men. "Is this where they were when you attacked them?" Murtag's men nodded their heads and a few of them said, 'yes sir.' "You didn't kill them, though?" His men shook their heads. "Good, good. You did injure, um, what's his name, um, oh right! Lancelot; you did hurt him, right?" His men nodded. "Good, good. Finally, you good for nothing lot can do something right. Morzan!"
Morzan came to Murtag's side. "Yes sir?" he asked.
"Which way did they head into the wood?"
"That way sir," Morzan pointed directly to where Annya was squatting. Murtag started to follow where Morzan pointed. Annya's heart started to race. Why, oh why was she wearing a red dress? Of all the times! She started to wish that she had put on the boy's clothes before she left. Her heartbeat started to ring in her ears so loudly that she was sure that Murtag would hear it.
Murtag just looked in the direction with eyes that were not in focus.
"Excellent," Murtag said. "I'm sure Lancelot is healed enough by now to start looking for Excalibur. But they will be slow which is, of course, what we wanted. It'll be cake to follow them. Ha, ha, ha, ha! Oh, it's just so simple that I can't believe the genius in it! They get Excalibur and we take it from them and then discard of them! Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! It's just so simple!"
Annya was horror struck. So that was why they left their supplies in the cave. They wanted them to live but to be slow. They were using them, and then after they were done, they would kill them.
"Right," continued Murtag. "Morzan, I want you to show me around this place. The rest of you make camp." Morzan and Murtag went off together.
Annya decided that she had hung around for long enough. She very quietly went back to Theo who was waiting for her with his ears pricked up. She picked up the bucket full of water and started to stroke Theo's long, powerful neck.
"Let's go," she whispered. "And keep quiet." She walked deeper into the forest back to the waiting Lancelot. Only when she was sure that she was well out of ear shot from Murtag and his men did she mount Theo and made him march through the forest at a brisk walk.
She finally arrived at their shelter and tied Theo to make sure that he wouldn't wander back to where Murtag and his men were. Theo snorted and stamped his foot in protest, but Annya ignored him. She hurried back to Lancelot with the water sloshing in the bucket.
"Lancelot!" she nearly shouted.
"What? What happened? Are you ok?" he asked seeing the distress on Annya's face. "Are you hurt?"
"I'm not hurt, but I have news." She said. She placed the bucket beside Lancelot, but he did not even look at it.
"Come," he said with his hand outstretched. "Sit and tell me."
Annya took his hand and sat beside him. She told him how she went to the creek and that when she was about to go, she heard someone in the creek. She told him that she saw Murtag and his men there and the plan that they had that he was going to kill them afterwards they got Excalibur from them.
"That bastard," Lancelot said when Annya had finished. "Here, drink." He took the bucket of water beside him and handed it to Annya. She took a sip of it and then gave it back to Lancelot who took long and large gulps of the water. He wiped his mouth on his arm and put the bucket down.
"Lancelot, what are we to do?"
Lancelot looked thoughtful then said, "I do not know. What will come, will come, and we will have to meet it when it does."
"But Lancelot! Surely you do not mean to lead them right to Excalibur and then let them kill us. Why do you not go back to King Arthur and tell him about what has happened?"
"Because we can't. Murtag and his men are following us. If the see that we are heading back to King Arthur's castle, they will surely attack us. We must try to get Excalibur back and then we will see what happens from then."
Annya nodded. She knew that that was the best idea. "How's your fever?" she asked suddenly feeling Lancelot's forehead.
"I'm fine, I'm fine." He said trying to brush away her hand.
"You're not as hot as you were before." She said, taking her hand off his forehead.
"Really? I thought that I was still good looking. What do you think happened?" he said looking down at his body.
"Lancelot!" Annya said. But she smiled.
Lancelot laughed and said, "You know, I think you should put on those clothes that I brought for you. It might make it easier to ride in."
Annya turned pink as she remembered how high her dress went up on her legs. "You saw that?" she asked shyly.
"Of course. I think that you are and excellent rider, by the way. Most men cannot ride like that even with a saddle."
"Oh, why, thank you." Annya smiled at the compliment. "Where are the clothes? I'll put them on."
"They are over there by the fire." Lancelot said pointing to the heap of clothes beside the burning fire.
Annya got up and picked them up. She went outside to change out of the view of Lancelot. She undid the lace of the weaved pattern on her back and loosened it. She then took off her dress and put on the boy's shirt. The material was cotton and not as nice on her skin as the silk was, but it was loose fitting and not tight like the dress. When she put on the pants, they were surprisingly comfortable. She could feel more freedom of the movement with her legs. The pants were not very loose, and still defined her legs. She then put on the leather boots. She picked up the hooded sweater and carried it back to the shelter for although it was becoming dark, it was warm outside.
"How do I look?" Annya asked Lancelot as she turned around.
"As gorgeous as ever." He replied.
Annya laughed. "They are very comfortable." She said.
"Are they? I wouldn't know the difference between the fittings of a dress compared to boy clothes. But I'll take your word for it."
They dying sun spread its last golden rays into the cave illuminating the features of Annya's beauty. The birds were still chirping their song outside as if they were playing music for them.
Lancelot got up and put his shirt on. He looked outside at the setting sun that made the sky purple and pink. He looked at Annya who was washed over in the rays of the sun.
"Care of a dance?" Lancelot asked her offering her his hand and bowing slightly with one hand behind his back.
Annya looked at him. He looked ridiculously handsome with the sun's rays playing around him. She felt her insides melt. "I would be delighted too." She said sweetly. She took Lancelot's hand and he led her to a clearing except for one willow tree and a large rock.
He stopped there and faced Annya. He put one hand on her hip and curled his fingers of his other hand around hers. He pulled her close to him and Annya put her hand on his shoulder as she did not have a dress on and would not need to hold it.
Lancelot's blue eyes looked into Annya' now deep green eyes. Annya found that she could not look away from him.
They began to dance slowly and simply. They swayed their bodies and moved in a circle around the willow tree and the rock. They said nothing to each other and just looked into each other's eyes. They were completely oblivious to their surroundings and kept dancing until the full moon was shining in the sky, casting a silver light down upon them.
As they danced Lancelot slowly pulled Annya closer to him until their bodies were touching. Annya could feel Lancelot's well defined body up against hers – his body heating hers, and despite herself she shivered.
"Are you cold?" Lancelot asked gently, still looking into her eyes.
"A little," she liked to make up for the shiver.
Lancelot just pulled her closer, rested his chin on her shoulder and put his hand to her other hip to wrap her with his arm. Annya took her hand off Lancelot's shoulder, looped it through his arm, and then put it back on his shoulder. She then placed her head on his chest and shut her eyes.
Annya felt like she was in heaven. She never wanted this dance to end. She wanted to stay like this forever – wrapped in Lancelot's strong arms.
"Are you warm now?" Lancelot asked jokingly.
Annya breathed out and smiled. "Very," she said.
They danced like this for a few moments more before Lancelot sat on the rock by the willow. The willow branches hung around them as if it were protecting them. Lancelot held Annya's hand and had his body turned towards her.
"Annya," he said softly.
"Mmmm?"
"I know that you are a fairy and that I am a human and that we're different, but …" he paused. Annya looked at him with frightened eyes.
Is he going to tell me that he doesn't like me? Annya thought. Oh, please don't tell me that. Oh, please, oh please, oh please …
"All the same," Lancelot continued. "I love you."
Joy spread throughout Annya entire body. Those words were the best words that she had ever heard before. Tears sprung to her eyes from happiness.
"Oh, Lancelot!" she said in a quivering voice. The tears started to come down her face even though she tried to stop them. "I love you too."
Lancelot gave her a huge smile. He held her face in his hands and brushed the tears away from Annya's face with his thumb.
"Then I am the luckiest man in the world." He whispered.
He brought his face closer to Annya's and gave her a long awaited kiss on her lips.