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"Stay there." Pushed unceremoniously onto the ground, Llynya watched Arthur and his knights unsheathe their swords and turn to face the dark figures racing from the forest.
"Woads." Dagonet's eyes flickered to Arthur briefly, "about time they made an appearance."
"Gawain, Galahad." Arthur did not need to give them instructions. Glancing back with an unreadable look upon his face, Gawain followed Galahad into the shadows, his axe in his hand and his eyes troubled.
Llynya had no sword, no knife, but a part of her was infuriated at such a dismissal, and despite her fear she rose to her feet.
"I…" The thud of a large man struck down behind her, silenced her protests. His sword clattered by her feet and Llynya looked at Dagonet dumbfounded.
"Get down and stay down," he said tightly, "this is no place for you."
Llynya did as she was told. Crouching by the fire she made herself as small as possible and watched the knights run into battle, their armour shining and their faces fierce. It was difficult to tell how many Woads there were; their painted bodied melted into the shadows, making them seem more like demons than anything approaching human.
Tristan's horse erupted from the woodland, foam from it's mouth splattering onto the ground as it's rider pulled it up sharply. Swinging free of the saddle, Tristan unsheathed his sword with an economy of movement that Llynya would have found graceful were she not so frightened. Dispatching two Woads swiftly, he glanced at her with an indecipherable expression on his face, before wading into the melee. He was as silent in combat as he was in conversation, and Llynya watched him fight with a strange mixture of terror and admiration.
An arrow thudded into the ground beside her, and Llynya finally gathered some of her wits. Reaching forward she picked up the sword that had fallen from the grasp of the man that had been slain earlier. The hilt was slippery with blood and heavy in her hands. Flinching at the battle cry behind her, she swung round and hefted the blade up, eyes searching the forest for enemies.
The man approaching her was tall and lean, smeared with blue markings and burning with hatred. Llynya fought the urge to run, and instead swung her sword in a clumsy arc before her, almost losing her grip on it in the process.
"Roman whore," the man hissed. His axe gleamed in the faint light, and Llynya took a step back. I'm not a whore, she thought slightly hysterically, I'm not even Roman. Brandishing the sword in what she hoped was a defiant manner, she barely blocked the first swing of his axe, the impact shuddering through the steel and almost causing her to drop the weapon. The Woad recovered far more quickly than she did. Stumbling aside, Llynya felt her hair flutter in the wake of another wild swing, and winced as the blade cut into her shoulder, driving her to her knees. The hilt of the sword slid through her fingers and she did her best to raise it again, panic, pain and desperation giving her unnatural strength. The blade hit the Woad in the hip, bright blood splashing her face and slowing her attacker. With a roar of rage and pain, the man twisted sideways, ripping the sword from her grasp, and swinging his axe down towards her neck. Sprawled on the ground, Llynya had no time to dodge the blow. Closing her eyes instinctively, she felt the splash of warm liquid on her chest and wondered that death could be so painless.
"Gods woman, you got a death wish or something?"
A large rough hand dragged her to her feet, and Llynya looked down to see her attacker staring back at her with blank eyes, his throat a gaping wound. Fighting back the bile that had suddenly risen in her throat, she reached for the sword she had dropped, glancing back warily at the bald man that steadied her.
"What the bloody hell are you going to do with that?" The big man that she recognised as Bors, Gawains' friend, looked at her with exasperation. "Supposed to kill 'em with swords, not tickle 'em." Throwing the bent blade aside, he pulled her back towards the shelter of the fallen tree. "Stay there and keep your head down."
Nodding mutely, Llynya curled herself into the hollow formed by the fallen branches and watched as Bors ran back into battle, his bloodied blades flashing in the firelight. Her heart thundered in her chest, and with a strange calmness she wiped the blood from her hands. Half hiddenin the shadows she watched Dagonet snap a man's neck without any apparent effort, the kindly giant transformed into something that even she flinched from, Galahads' youthful exuberance twisted into a blur of blood and steel and shining eyes in the darkness.
Gawain had woken in the night sometimes - once he had even struck her, fighting free of a nightmare and not recognising her touch as that of a friend. Watching the knights she finally understood why. This was battle in it's truest form. The knights were outnumbered, the men that attacked them filled with the fury of those who believed they were defending not only their lives but their birthright; and yet they were winning. Gawains' hair gleamed in the firelight, his axes a silver blur. His face was splattered with blood and his expression feral. Llynya watched him cut down a huge Woad man and tried to reconcile this savage creature with the man who had once lain beside her with a gentle tenderness that had made her glad she could not purr as loudly as the stable cat.
Arthur who had smiled so kindly earlier, was wielding his sword with deadly accuracy, the bodies of those he had slain littered around his feet. Behind him a handsome curly haired man eyed their attackers with contemptuous disdain, his twin swords dripping with gore, and his eyes glittering with fury. As kind as they had been to her they did not seem human, and Llynya tucked her knees up to her chest, tried to make herself as small as possible, and prayed to the goddess for an end to the slaughter.
The battle did not last long. Disappearing into the forest as quickly as they had arrived, the Woads fled back into the trees, leaving their dead behind them.
"Llynya?"
Blinking in confusion, she lifted her head and met Gawains' eyes. He was crouched before her, bloody but seemingly unhurt, and she made an attempt to smile.
"Is it over?"
"For now. Bors tells me that you were fighting."
"Ah." She bit her lip and fought the urge to burst into tears. "Not really fighting… more sort of trying not to die…"
"I thought so."
He put a hand on her shoulder, meaning to comfort her, but dropped it when she hissed in pain and pulled back. Worriedly he brushed her protests aside and gently pulled the sticky material from the gash it covered, calloused fingers tentatively probing the wound.
"You're hurt," he said quietly. "Let me get Dagonet."
Llynya swallowed hard and grabbed his wrist. She could feel the slick blood on his arm, clotting on the fuzz of hair that covered the powerful muscle, the flex of tendons beneath her fingers.
"This is who you are. This is what you were pledged to."
He said nothing, merely looked at her with tired eyes, his mouth twitching in a wry smile.
"Aye Llynya, this is who I am."
"How do you stand it?"
"By dreaming of better things." Running a calloused finger down her cheek he got up and shrugged the cloak from his shoulders. "Rest a moment, I'll be back shortly." He draped the cloak around her shoulders carefully, smoothing her hair as though she were a child. "Rest," he warned, looking back at her, "it will help."
Llynya watched him go in silence. Rest was the furthest thing from her mind - indeed she wondered if she would ever sleep again. Jumping at the nudge at her hand, she smiled at Lark who had somehow managed to creep up beside her.
"Coward," she said softly, running a hand over the rough fur, "didn't see you doing much fighting."
With a martyred sigh the dog settled down beside Llynya, her head resting in her lap, and Llynya wrapped her fingers in her coat, gratefulfor the comfort.
"You alright lass?" Tom and Dagonet walked over to her, grim faced and dirty. "I see Lark has decided to turn up."
"A little too late to be of any use though." Llynya gave a half smile, "don't really blame her for it though."
"Clever dog." Dagonet knelt beside her and ran a huge hand over Larks' head before turning to Llynya. "Gawain said thatyou are hurt."
"It's nothing." Slightly embarrassed, she fixed her gaze upon the dog beside her, "I don't think I'm really suited to fighting. Don't trouble yourself, it's only a scratch."
"If I don't see to it then I'll have Gawain to reckon with, and there's been enough bloodshed this night." Smiling kindly, Dagonet looked at her shoulder carefully. "You'll be fine. Once you're cleaned up a bit you'll be as good as new."
Llynya watched Tom walk away as Dagonet undid the front of her dress, and silently thanked him for his discretion. Too shy to meet the eyes of the man who tended her, she tried not to wince when he cleaned the cut and bound it, the strong fingers gentle despite his strength.
"Thank you." With a wobbly smile she pushed his hand away and re-laced her dress. "I'm sorry to have caused so much trouble."
"It was no trouble." For such a large man he moved lightly, and by the time Llynya registered the friendly pat on her shoulder he was gone.
The knights moved like ghostly shadows beyond the fire, and despite herself Llynya found herself looking for Gawain. She had always thought of him as a lion before, but for the first time she truly understood how accurate the comparison was. Lions had teeth and claws, lions killed and were in turn killed themselves. Watching the gleam of his hair and the curves of his face, she wondered how she had never noticed the sheer brute strength of him before, and tried to pretend that she was unmoved by it. When he settled down beside her and brushed his fingers through her hair she did not protest, and when he pulled her head to his shoulder she did not resist.
A/N Well there we go - another chapter! I hope you didn't find Llynya too cowardly - remember that she's just a farm girl, she has no experience with battle. I'm sorry that we aren't able to answer reviews in chapters, but believe me they are much appreciated. Thanks very much to everyone reading this - may your Christmases be filled with joy and free of novelty knitwear : )