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It was Lark who found her. Lark who nudged the unmoving body and whimpered in distress, looking in confusion at the body of the girl who had been petting her mere moments ago. Giving a sharp bark, the lurcher settled back on her haunches and waited for her master to come. Tom followed the sound of the barking, Llynya close behind him. Behind them Arthur held firm to a panicking Dynadan, Galahad and Dagonet flanking the silent form of Balan. Tristan had been left to watch over Lancelot, although from the flash of his eyes at the order, he would rather have joined the hunt for the girl.
"Lark?" Tom called for his dog and was rewarded with another bark. As the small group rounded the corner towards the pig pens, the lurcher got to her feet, but did not move from the crumpled heap she stood guard over.
"What is that?" Llynya whispered uncertainly. It looked like a bundle of discarded clothing, but as the clouds briefly fled before the moon, a fan of pale hair gleamed silver against the dirt, and she felt her breath catch in her throat. "Charlotte?"
As though in a dream she watched Tom hurry towards the body. Turning the young girl over carefully, she fell to her knees as Charlotte's face was revealed. Her eyes were glassy, the glimmer of blood on her neck almost black in the faint light. Tom looked back at his companions and shook his head sadly.
"Charlie?" Dynadan's voice was so soft that Llynya barely heard him. "Charlie girl?" He pushed away Arthur's hand and walked unsteadily towards the ranger and the limp form he held in his arms. "Wake up love. I'm sorry, wake up love…" He dropped to his knees and Tom relinquished the body to Dynadan's arms. Cradling his daughter as though he could return life to her by sheer force of will, the village elder rocked her back and forth, a low keening cry of grief escaping him.
Llynya felt a big hand slide beneath her arm and pull her to her feet. Looking up, she saw Dagonet's grim expression and unconsciously moved a little closer to him. Balan was sobbing openly, Galahad seemingly dumbstruck by what had happened. Only Arthur seemed to retain his wits.
"Dagonet," he said quietly. "Take Charlotte back to the tavern. Llynya, Balan, you go with them - try and make sure Dynadan goes with you." Llynya nodded and stepped away from Dagonet . Tom looked up as Arthur called his name, and vanished into the darkness at the Roman commander's order to retrieve Gawain and Bors from their posts.
"How did it get past the lookouts?" Galahad muttered almost to himself, "we had the village covered…"
Arthur ran a hand over his face and dragged his eyes from Charlotte's body. "Check the lookouts, make sure that nothing has happened to any of them and then return to the tavern. We will need a strategy to defeat this evil."
Galahad nodded, touching Llynya briefly on the shoulder before loping off to find his horse.
Breathing deeply, Llynya approached Dynadan, crouching down beside him and touching his shoulder gently. The pain in his eyes made her heart twist, but she managed to keep her voice steady.
"She's gone. We can't stay here."
Dynadan shook his head in denial. "She's my little girl… My fault, my fault.."
Llynya swallowed hard. "She knew you loved her, let her go Dynadan, please let her go." Reaching out, she gently pulled Charlotte's body from her father's arms. Struggling not to cry, she sank back on her haunches, Charlotte's silky hair tickling her chin, her blood seeping through the bodice of her dress.
Dagonet reached down and took the dead girl from Llynya's arms, cradling the slight body respectfully. Reaching forward, Llynya took Dynadan's hand and managed to persuade him to get to his feet. His actions might have caused all this pain and bloodshed, but for the moment all she could feel for the man was pity. As they walked past Arthur, Dynadan paused. Gently brushing Llynya's hand off his shoulder, he studied the tall Roman before falling to his knees and bowing his head.
"For the fort, for the village, for Char…" he choked upon his daughter's name and took a deep breath. "Let justice be done."
Arthur looked at him for a long moment, his hand reaching for Excalibur and sliding the great sword half out of it's scabbard. "You offer your life as punishment for your crime?" he asked quietly.
"I do, my lord," Dynadan replied brokenly.
"I will not take it," Arthur said with deceptive gentleness. "Live with what you have done, live with the knowledge of the blood that has been spilt because of your actions. If you seek redemption in the eyes of your gods then help us fight, help us defeat the beast."
Dynadan was silent, slowly dragging his eyes from the ground, he looked over at the body of his only child, cradled in Dagonet's arms. "If by my life or death I can help you, I will."
Arthur nodded, turning around and heading back to the tavern. Llynya followed Dagonet, trying to keep close, as though she could bestow some sort of belated comfort to the dead girl in his arms. Impulsively she reached out and took one of Charlotte's hands. Her skin was still a little warm, and squeezing the calloused palm tightly, she forced her emotions down and concentrated on the short walk to the tavern.
A despairing cry greeted their entrance to the pub, and jolted out of her reverie, Llynya looked around to see Louisa's stricken face.
"Charlotte?" The dark haired woman hurried over, her cheeks blanched and her eyes wide with horror. Stretching out a trembling hand towards the dead girl's face, Arthur barely managed to catch her before she slumped to the floor in a dead faint. Swinging her up into his arms, he placed her upon the table next to where Lancelot still laid, blissfully unaware of the night's events. Tossing his cloak over her prone body, he looked at Llynya.
"Is there somewhere we can put Charlotte for the moment?"
Llynya nodded. "There's a room beside the kitchen." She glanced back nervously at Dynadan, but if he had heard her words then he showed no sign of having done so. His eyes were dead, his shoulders slumped, and squaring her shoulders, Llynya beckoned Dagonet to follow her. The little room was small - it had once been a dining room for Louisa and her family, until death and bad memories had sent the woman to seek more lively places to dine. The big oak table that dominated the room was thick with dust, and unwilling to see her friend laid upon such a filthy surface, Llynya hurriedly cleaned it with her shawl. Dagonet waited patiently for her to finish, before carefully placing the body upon the table.
"Would you like me to clean her?" he said kindly. It was traditional for relatives to tend the body and prepare the body for burial, but Dynadan was obviously incapable of doing so, as was Louisa.
"No." Llynya shook her head. "Thank-you, but I would rather do it myself."
"As you wish." He patted her shoulder as he left, and Llynya set about the task she had set herself. Fetching the lantern from the kitchen, she carefully lit the stubby remains of old candles that lined the windowsill and tipped a generous measure of water into a bowl. Washing away the blood that stained Charlotte's pale skin and matted her hair, she sang old songs her mother had taught her under her breath. Perhaps somewhere the younger girl would hear the music and be comforted. The wound on her throat was deep and had obviously killed her quickly - it came as little reassurance. The slice of what must have been claws marked her shoulders and shredded her dress, and Llynya had to fight hard to keep her emotions under control. Finally finishing, Llynya kissed her friend on the forehead, thanked her for her courage and kindness and wept as though her heart had shattered.
The knights had returned. Through the thin walls Llynya could vaguely make out Bor's snarl and Arthur's curt reply, although she could not make out the words. Getting to her feet, she wiped her face clean of tears and touched Charlotte's cheek before making her way to the kitchen. There was obviously a heated debate going on in the main serving room, and she hesitated before pushing the door open.
Bors's face was red, his sword pointing towards Dynadans throat.
"If it's his fault then why don't we kill the bloody bastard?" he roared. "What's the point in keeping him alive?"
"Leave him Bors," Arthur said tightly, "he is of no use to us if he is dead."
Bors snorted and crossed his arms over his chest, ignoring Dagonet's warning look. "Not much use to us alive either." Dynadan made no move either to speak or defend himself, his eyes were as dead as his daughter's.
Slipping the door shut behind her, Llynya scanned the large room. Tristan was perched on one of the benches, his eyes flicking towards her with a look that could have been sympathy, curiosity, or merely the reflexes of a man used to seeking out danger. Lancelot was awake, she noticed with a sudden jolt. He was half propped upright and obviously in pain. Unwilling to meet his eyes, she sidled towards the far end of the tavern, towards the two men who sat near the fireplace.
"Llynya?" Tom nodded as she approached, and she made herself nod back, brushing a hand over Lark's head as she passed. Gawain said nothing, but pulled her onto his lap, his big hands tracing circles over her back and pulling her close.
"Charlotte's dead," she managed to choke out. "The beast…"
"I know." His breath was warm against her cheek, his beard scratchy against the soft skin of her neck. "I'm sorry."
"Dynadan…."
"Arthur told us." Gawain pushed her up a little so that she was sitting on his lap. "At least we know what we are up against, at least we can make plans…"
His words were cut off by Galahad stumbling through the door. He carried the limp form of a man upon his shoulders, and dumped the body onto the ground with an audible groan of relief.
"Galahad?" Arthur asked, moving forward to examine the body.
The young knight shook his head and brushed his sweaty curls from his forehead. "Two men down." He pointed to the arrow shaft that protruded from the dead man's throat. "No woad markings, got to have been Tauleas. He took out two watchmen from behind and then led the beast in. We were watching the meadow, but from the direction of the arrows I'd say he circled around. How in the name of the gods are you supposed to spot an archer in the darkness? They were dead before they knew what had hit them."
There was no answer to that. Llynya glanced over at Lancelot reluctantly. His face was set, his eyes glittering in the firelight. Dimly she wondered how much Charlotte's death had affected him, before resting her head back against Gawain's chest. There would be time enough tomorrow for condolences, time enough for regret and blame. Feeling the blond knight's arms wrap around her, she tried not to think of Charlotte, and before she knew it she was asleep.
A/N Quite a response for the last chapter lol! Sorry people who liked Charlotte, but it had to be done. Thanks to everyone who reviewed (Phia - you are right, Gawain was in the meadow - typo on my part, thanks for pointing it out).