Guinevere was rudely awakened by the zing of swords and raised voices. Her left hand grasped for her bow that never left her side. As she held the bow, Guinevere felt her old strength and fire return to her. Adrenaline rushed through her veins and she felt alive once more. In her mind, she was running through the forest, blending in with the trees.
When she reached the scene of commotion, she saw Dagonet trying to reach Lucan, who was being held prisoner by the man who had tortured them both. Guinevere strung her bow and let the arrow fly true to the black, twisted heart of her target. As Marcus Honorius fell to the ground, Guinevere felt no remorse. She did not know how steely her gaze was, or how her mouth was set in a thin, dark smile. As Guinevere stood over the dead body, she felt a pair of eyes boring into her back. She turned around and saw Lancelot smirking at her.
"I wouldn't want to get on your bad side…ever."
Guinevere turned from him and stalked away. She didn't see Lancelot open his mouth to call her back, nor did she see him stare at her retreating back until she disappeared into the wagon. There, she lost herself in her thoughts. From time to time, Lancelot peered into the wagon, only to find Guinevere blankly staring at the cloth that hid her from the outside world. Only when the wagon jolted did she break from her trance. A different world greeted her as she climbed out and faced the scene of a frozen lake, with no possible escape route.
The wind blew harder again. Unlike the night before, the voices of her people was gone. Instead, she heard the beating of drums, drawing dangerously near. Guinevere turned back to get her bow, but a hand restricted her. She furiously turned around and found herself eye-to-eye with a pale Lancelot.
Lancelot tightly grasped Guinevere's arm, as if he expected her to fight for her freedom. He pulled her close so that his whisper could be heard above the howling of the wind. "This is no place for you. Go to Hadrian's Wall with the villagers. Battle is not for women."
Guinevere furiously whispered back. "I fought with my people. I fight for my people. This is my land also, why should I not defend my country?" She pulled back and cupped his chin in her palm. "I am staying Lancelot. I am fighting by your side." Lancelot searched her eyes and found a burning fire within them. That fire somehow made Lancelot realize something deep inside him, and he turned away before his feelings could distract him from the war in front of him.
Guinevere whipped around slid on the ice as she retrieved her bow. Then, she went and stood by Lancelot, daring him to send her back. Despite her eagerness to fight for land and country, Guinevere felt the warmth of her blood leave her when she set eyes upon the Saxon army.
The ice cracked underneath them as the army advanced upon them. She looked to Arthur for command. As he lifted up his bow, his knights did the same. Soon, the army was reduced to half, then a quarter. Arthur must've realized the ice was not going to crack, for he retreated. However, Guinevere saw Dagonet rush out to the ice and she started to fire arrows at twice her speed to keep anyone from killing him. She cried out in pain as she saw arrows strike Dagonet. Beside her, Lancelot winced and closed his eyes for a brief moment before he started to fire once more. The ice cracked, and the Saxon army met their deaths in the icy grip of the water.
The ride back to the Wall was silent. No one needed to say a thing, for the death of Dagonet was fresh in their minds. Guinevere's eyes burned with tears. They rolled down her cheek, carving a path for the river yet to come. Lancelot looked at her and climbed into the wagon. No words were spoken. Lancelot just took her into his arms and held her, rocking her back and forth until she was calm. He cried too, and Guinevere felt his tears drop onto her head. She looked up and just brushed them away, her palm lingering on his cheek.