The Hawk's Cry
Cardeia- Sneaky, sneaky. My Lord. I would write volumes to receive reviews like you give me. Lol. Mmm. I suppose I'm comparing this to some other things I've written, such as, a few of my short stories and my role-plays. Chapter Six wasn't my best by far. Sorry to have confused you. Tristan was not with Leilia. He stayed behind. Though, he did not spar. He was rather caught up with the sword. Guinevere is the female Woad speaking to Leilia. Since I'm in a generally good mood, I would knock off a connection for you. Leilia and Lancelot were never lovers, though; perhaps they did love each other. The next question is what kind of love?
Silver Salamander- Lol. The past doesn't always lead to the present, my dear. As well as, a connection in the past may not always affect future connection. So many endings you see, I see only one. But I will let you dawdle and try to figure out which one.
Sokorra Lewis- I really didn't like Guinevere in the movie. Lol. She seemed so stuck up. So, I plan to play that up. Lol. Everyone makes her so nice and perfect. I won't though.
op- Thank you! I love you for being my reviewer and I mean that.
BlackPaintedWhite- All the way from Chapter One. Thank you.
Chapter Seven
"Then we now part to meet when I will get it," anger seethed through Guinevere's words, clearly raged that Leilia would threaten her. "I will get it." She stooped, picking up her weapons. Both women locked gazes for a breath's moment before the Woad melted into the greens of the forest. Leilia envied that. She could become invisible in a crowd, stealth anywhere, and could blend into shadows. But to completely disappear into the trees was beyond her. Perhaps one day she would befriend a Woad who would teach her. But at the rate she was going with these Woads, she doubted such a thing would ever happen.
As soon as she regained her mind from dreaming, she wasted no time in rearming herself and returning to Arvakur and the knight. But she stopped, just close enough to the knight's position that she could see the sword he held. Her eyes flashed with crimson. The rage that filled her veins did not mirror Guinevere's, no it far bypassed it. Leilia drew one of her swords, growling as she approached.
"Give me the sword, Knight, or I will slay you here and now." He looked up with an almost startled look. But she knew he was not. No, she could tell he had heard her unsheathe her sword and walk into the small clearing. His eyes stuck to her, not moving except when she did. His mouth twitched slightly. "Give it now." It was an order. She could not handle seeing his hands touch the hilt, the stones, and the blade. No, he had to give it back even if it meant he had to die. She had to have it back. There were only two things that mattered to Leilia. Arvakur and that sword. She loved both.
"And what if I do not return it and decide to use it as leverage?" She watched his eyes slide coolly over the blade, then wisp up to hers. She gripped her sword, feeling her hands sweat. He raised his brow.
"And?" She stepped forward, raising her sword slightly. She was ready to attack, he could tell. She knew he could because he gripped the sword tightly as he raised it as well. He readied himself for her attack with her sword and that made her fume. He could tell that as well. "Your terms." He smirked. She wanted the sword.
"I'll return you your sword when you return with me to Arthur." Arvakur stamped his hoof, nudging the horse beside him. The horse stumbled slightly and nipped at him but he bumped it again only to dance away unharmed. His eyes touched hers. He raised hi head, she followed, and he dropped it, she followed. A sweet whinny moved out to her, she answered by clicking her tongue. She could hear the knight fidget. But she didn't care. No, she just gazed at the roan. He tossed his head and lowered it to feed. Yes, she loved that horse. Her attention turned to Tristan. "No. Different terms.
"Why?" Her eyes widened and her sword lowered as she gazed at him in deep wonder. Why did he want to know? She shook her head, dismissing his question. "Answer, Lady of the Lake." Her eyes narrowed, his didn't. He just looked at her. That gaze coming into play. But there was something in them this time. Curiosity rang through those black eyes like flecks of dirt in a horse's mane. She nearly smiled but held her lips still. Even if he held her prized sword, he interested her and she had no intention of killing him just yet.
"Fine, Knight. You have it your way. Your terms." He raised his brow as she sheathed her sword and mounted her horse. She nodded encouragingly at his horse sarcastically. After he had mounted, she brought Arvakur close. "Just don't scratch it. That is my term." He nodded, putting the magnificent sword into a bag on his saddle.
Both horses lurched into motion as their riders kicked into them. The greens meshed together with the browns, the horses weaving with sure-footed limbs. He watched her, allowing her to lead. Normally Tristan would have wished a slower pace so he could listen for danger but something had snagged in his ways when Leilia had pushed her mount forward, her dark curls licking behind her like a flailing shadow.
The past camp of the knights was empty when they arrived. They both dismounted, leaving their reigns free. The horses were trained to never wonder far. Tristan squatted, his eyes tracing the dirt as his fingers touched the coarse dust. Leilia poked at the embers of a dead fire with a stick. "They are not long gone. Maybe an hour ago, not more. We can catch them if we ride now." He nodded to her words, knowing them already. His head ached with the new questions forming in his head.
"We ride then," he spoke dryly to the already mounted woman. This time he rode lead. But Arvakur kept up easily to his grey pinto. There was something different in traveling with her. Something far different then what it was like with the knights. Though, he spent most of his time away from the group. He was the main scout. He camped away from the group many a time. But he was never lonely. He had his hawk. He glanced back to Leilia but quickly turned his eyes forward when their eyes met. He rather be alone. A slight smile parted at his lips, causing only the corners to lift. He shook his head, lifting his face to the canopy. He closed his eyes, breathing in the forest, and he looked back again. He saw the almost smile she too had played across her face, he returned with his rare nearly smile. She laughed. Silver bells rang around him. He hated the affect that one sound had on him. He couldn't describe the feeling it gave him. No, he could. It made him feel free. It reminded him of home and perhaps it meant something else as well. But he ignored that. His face turned forwards again, watching the edge of the forest come near.