Disclaimer: I don't own anything apart from Morgan, Isulet and Tempest. I don't own any of the songs unless I say I do O.K?

Chapter 11

The knights all lined up in a row on the ice. There was Lancelot, Guinevere, Bors, Dagonet, Arthur, Galahad, Gawain, Isulet, Morgan and Tristan. Everyone had a bundle which contained a bow, arrows, and swords or any other weapons of choice. Isulet took out her bow and flexed it a couple of times. The bow was good quality, made of yew, which was ideal for bows. Looking at Morgan she smiled. Morgan was flexing her muscles and bow, after a long time her movements were a little stiff, but still they showed a great archer. Looking at her arms Isulet sighed. Her arms were thin, but that hid the strength that was really in them. Well, they were all she had, and she had to make use of them. Gawain was looking at his bow with nothing in his face. At least they could all shoot. That was at least an advantage. Mind you, there were only ten of them, and there were very likely many more crossbowmen in the Saxon army. I am worried, but hell, whatever happens we're giving the others a head start and I'll be dying with the people I love most in the world.

When the Saxon army appeared Isulet almost gasped in shock. There were so many! All of the soldiers were dressed in either black or brown leather, with a rare few having pieces of metal sewn on. Some of the soldiers had helmets, others didn't. The one thing the whole army had in common was shields. The designs on the shields were totally different. The banners were black with white patterns on. All in all they looked like a pretty rag-tag army. Morgan almost laughed out loud the Saxon's looked so ridiculous. But from the looks on everyone else's faces these men were to be feared. They must be ferocious fighters, because they don't have anything else going for them.

"There are a lot of lonely men out there." Lancelot said, looking at Guinevere.

"Don't worry I won't let them rape you." Guinevere replied, holding her bow at the ready.

"No, she may not, but I will." Morgan said, bringing smiles to a few faces.

"Archers!" The clear call came from across the ice. An archer stepped forward and fired the bow. The arrow landed and skittered across the ice.

"Archers." Arthur said.

"They're out of range." Guinevere protested.

"They're not. Are you still a good mimic Morgan?" Isulet asked.

"Yes." Answered Morgan.

"Aim for the flanks, make them cluster." Arthur ordered and everyone, apart from Guinevere and Morgan shot.

"Well, I never would have thought of that." Morgan said, getting ready to fire her first arrow.

The knights just carried on firing, regardless of anything else. Many of the Saxon men went down, making the others bunch and the ice to begin to crack under the strain. Isulet listened to all this with a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. It was all happening exactly as it had in her dream. It felt like it was all on instant replay for her very eyes, like someone was making her watch it over and over again. This is all a sick joke, Isulet thought, played by our superiors in heaven. The Saxons had stopped, obviously put out by the amount of men they had lost. But the knights carried on shooting regardless, and so the Saxon's had no choice but to carry on towards them. After a while Arthur dropped his bow and took out his sword.

"It's not working, prepare for combat." He shouted above the noise of the drums. All the knights drew their weapons and began the wait. After a few seconds Dagonet picked up his battle axe and ran forward. Isulet didn't move her brain wasn't functioning.

"Cover him." Arthur yelled. Isulet and the other knights obliged.

"Bring him down." Yelled the leader of the other side.

"No." Isulet said quietly, watching the whole scene unfold before her. She carried on shooting, though she knew the outcome.

When the first arrow hit home Dagonet carried on regardless. Isulet felt a shiver run through her, as if she were the one getting the wounds. Another arrow hit home, and yet still Dagonet carried on with his battle axe. Isulet almost screamed with the pain, her brain had started to hurt, and she knew that her dream had been right. Dagonet would die, and there was nothing she could do about it. This hit home with a sickening certainty and Isulet almost cried out. But she didn't. She just kept it all inside, or so she thought. A silver tear left a track on her face that was hard to disguise. Isulet had stopped firing and she had turned away. Morgan turned and looked at her before carrying on firing. Then when the ice finally cracked Isulet went to go forwards, but was topped by Gawain. She struggled for a while.

"Let me go." She hissed.

"No, you can't do anything. Let him go Isulet" Gawain held her tight.

"Dagonet!" Isulet wailed. And in that instant she saw what she never wanted to see again.

It started off with her mother sitting in the village, and then she saw the whole thing burning and her mother crying out to her brother. Next she saw her husband dieing on the battlefield, though there was little honour left for him. Next she saw all the knights that had ever dies when she was in the group, and before. Then there were more knights dieing, and more battlefields strewn with bodies, some of them good friends. They were all that was left, and she saw them dieing to, some on the battlefield, some to illnesses and some of old age. There was also all the possibilities of death that she had ever seen. And to top it all off there was her death. It was something she had always feared, and there were a myriad of possibilities as to how she would die. Isulet tried to block them out, but to no avail, she felt herself slipping away from the noise of battle.

Morgan watched Isulet go limp in Gawain's arms. What had happened to her? All she had done was wail for Dagonet and then she collapsed. Most of the other knights had been affected by the wail, you could tell. The knights pulled back, Morgan with them, all the time worrying for her friend who lay limp and unresisting in Gawain's arms. She looked like a doll when she was like that. It made you wonder what would happen if no-one else like her was around. But that was not what Morgan wanted to think about. But another thought came into her head. She looks like she's dead; the voice that had been her constant companion for many years reminded her. Shut up, se shouted at the voice, drowning out the chant that the voice had taken up. When they finally caught up Tristan handed her Tempest's reigns and she swung herself up into the saddle. Spurring Tempest forward made him buck and rear. Morgan hung on and finally managed to settle the black stallion. How does Isulet manage? She asked herself, actually managing to get Tempest to move after a hard kick. After a few seconds Tempest tried bolting, but Morgan put him on a short bit and kept him that way to stop him from trying anything else.

"I hope she's going to be all right." Morgan thought out loud.

"She will be she always is." Tristan answered, trying to keep pace with Morgan.

"You mean this has happened before?" Morgan asked in concern.

"Yes, but you get used to it after a while. I think you ought to concentrate on riding that horse, he seems like a right devil." Tristan smiled at Morgan.

"You're right he is." Morgan sadly smiled back, going back in her mind to what she knew of Dagonet. It wasn't enough for her liking, but it was some.

Author's notes: Sorry this took so long to post. First I got into a writer's block then I started another fanfiction. It's a Lord of the Rings and is called Bleeding Hearts if you're interested. So whhada ya think of my latest offering?