A Woman Among Knights
Ten riders rode gradually along the long, narrow road that lead west. Each swayed in their saddle as they made their way over hill and plain, through streams and underbrush. The sun was now directly above them in the sky, which was a rare occurrence in Briton. Yet, to the south, gray clouds were moving in fast, threaten to cast out the light. The air smelled musky like rain, despite the sun's obvious presence.
Kay looked back towards the knights, and Elaine, who rode upon her bright white steed, clad in a tight pair of pants and a loose tunic. Her long brown tresses were tied back with a piece of leather, but a few strands had managed to fall forward into her face.
"Kay, you look as though you've never seen a woman ride a horse before," Elaine called forward, catching the man before he could avert his eyes elsewhere.
Smiling, Kay said, "At least not in pants."
The group, Arthur included laughed when Elaine shook her head. Galahad rode up alongside the lady, leaving his spot next to Tritan.
"Your horse, Elaine, is a beautiful creature. Strong, but graceful. He'd make a good war horse."
Elaine suddenly looked nervous, but quickly recovered before Galahad could notice, "Oh, Luka, he's as simple as his master."
Gawain spoke up as he came up on the other side, "Nonsense. Your, Luka, is of a good breed."
"Do not listen, Luka," she said, leaning over towards the horses ears. His white ears perked up at his master's voice, as if he were awaiting for a command. "Kela na sinome, Luka. Ona ta dina dengina Lancelot."
At hearing his name among the Celtic language she spoke, Lancelot turned around atop his black steed.
"What did you say?" Lamorak called out from behind Tristan.
"I simply told Luka that he shouldn't take such flattery serious, or he would get a self-admiring character, much like our Sir Lancelot."
Gawain burst, falling forward in his saddle, "AHH!"
Lancelot, actually embarrassed by this jab at him, reared his horse around, trotting it beside Elaine. He stared into her eyes intently, causing Elaine to turn away.
"My lady, your mouth is as quick as it is alluring."
Arthur turned around in his saddle, sending a death glare at his best friend. "One more word out of your mouth, Lancelot, and I'll cut out your tongue.
The laughter was so great, that Tristan feared the noise would alert a Woad miles back of their presence. He let out a sighed, looking down at his hands. The scout hadn't realized that his knuckles were white as they held onto the reins. He looked back at the scene he had been eagerly watching, in a very nonchalant manner. Elaine was blushing under Lancelot's lustful gaze. Clearly, she wasn't used to such a audacious man, and she certainly hadn't seen the worst. If Lancelot laid a finger on her, Tristan would put in arrow in his back. He noticed that his hand already resided over his bow. She wasn't a wench.
Than the rains came. Elaine shrieked, unprepared for the abrupt down pour. Suddenly, she was sheltered from the rain. Looking up into Lancelot's face, she saw a genuine concern in his faced that shocked her, as he held his unfastened cloak over her head. Hadn't this man just teased her in a crass way, not but moments ago?
"You'd better go into the carriage," he shouted over the rain, "we don't want our healer to catch her death. Don't worry, I'll take your Luka."
Suddenly speechless because of Lancelot's sudden kindness and utter chivalry, Elaine could only nod as she jumped off Luka, and raced in between the knight's horses, back towards the carriage. Lamorak had guided the large carriage steeds atop his own horse. Steps away from the carriage door, Elaine lost her footing, slipping in the mud. But before she fell forward into the filth, a strong arm wrapped around her waist from behind, pulling her swiftly from the ground. Expecting to see Lancelot's or Arthur's face, Elaine was startled when she looked up into the somber eyes of the scout. Tristan was standing before her, holding her in his firm arms, and for a moment, Elaine thought he would kiss her. His face was stoic, dark, yet his eyes told a different tale; they were tender, looking down upon her plump wet lips, than eagerly back into her eyes. In that moment, Elaine wanted him to kiss her, to take her lips in his own, claim her as his alone. Her heart pounded so hard against her chest, and Tristan was so close, that she knew that he felt it. 'Oh God, let him kiss me.'
But Tristan relinquished his hold on Elaine's waist, his voice showing no signs of emotion, "Go, get in the carriage."
He left her standing there, wandering back over to his waiting steed. Tristan mounted his horse, joining the other knights beside him, as he desperately tried to calm his trembling hands.
Elaine sat in the warm comfort of her carriage, clutching a large fur around her still wet shoulders. Her thoughts were on Tristan and the scene that had occurred between them less than an hour ago. So deep in thought, Elaine didn't notice Lamorak enter into the carriage until he spoke.
"Are you comfortable?"
She beamed up at the knight, beckoning for him to join her. Lamorak eagerly sat upon a fur to the right of Elaine. She smiled, for she had grown so fond of the young man. In her heart, she loved him already. Staring over Lamorak, she tried to memorize his every feature. He had broad shoulders that extended down to a lean middle. His hair was a chestnut color, and was straight and soft, falling just below his ears in wisps. He had a hairy beard, much like Galahads, but unlike him, Lamorak kept his trimmed short. He was a very handsome man at only twenty-two years, a year older than herself. His blue-green eyes, gave him a kind child-like complexion, although she knew from his build that he must have been a fierce fighter.
"Lamorak?"
"Yes?"
"Why is Tristan so, so reserved? He barely joins in with the other men."
Lamorak looked slightly disappointed that the scout had been mentioned, but answered the lady's question nonetheless . "He has always possessed a sort of quite, calm way about him. But do not let that trick you, for he is ruthless when it comes to fighting. He fights like, like an animal."
"An animal?"
"Yes, completely swift and deadly. It's disturbing actually. I think he enjoys killing."
"What?"
"I've seen his face before, during, and after each battle. Before and after, he is simply Tristan, calm and expressionless. But during a battle, his eyes fill with this passionate pleasure, and he looks satisfied. I think he longs for battle. He craves it."
Elaine's head pounded with confusion. She just couldn't make sense of anything.
"Are you hungry?" Lamorak inquired, swiftly changing the topic of conversation.
She smiled, "No, but thank you Lamorak."
Lamorak smiled as Elaine reached down and took his hand in thanks.
"WOADS!"
Lamorak shot up, grabbing his sword from his side, "Stay here."
The instant Lamorak stepped out from the carriage, an arrow whizzed over his head , striking the wooden carriage. He spotted the marksmen just a yard away, and launched his entire sword into the woads chest. Lamorak swiftly ran to his side, carelessly pulling the blade from his dead enemy, before turning to join his fellow knights.
A small band of Woads were descending down a hill, out of the dark timberland. Tristan fried arrow after arrow into the charging woads, before he jumped down to shot from the ground safely. Arthur yelled as he tackled a large woad, running him completely through with Excalibur, before he turned to join Lancelot. Lancelot, after nearly splitting a man in two as he crossed his twin blades over his stomach, ran over towards the carriage. The small band of woads were nearly entirely wiped out, as the remaining knights wandered towards the carriage with Arthur and Lancelot. Tristan paused on his way over, sensing something was wrong. He quickly turned around just in time to she a woad drag Elaine away in the other direction, a dagger held to her throat.
"Let her go!" the scout yelled, aiming his arrow at the man, alerting the other men in the process. Arthur raced to his side, pointing Excalibur in front of him.
"Release her, or die."
The woad glared at the commander over Elaine's shoulder, before speaking broken pieces of a language that was not his own.
"She go to Merlin, take her, live or dead. You choice!"
"No, we'll take her," Lancelot said from behind Arthur, "and we'll just kill you. Sound better?"
The woad tightened his hold on Elaine, causing the dagger he still held to press down on her throat. Painful pressure made her yelp, but also made anger boil in her veins.
"She go."
Elaine had quite enough. She turned back to the knights, slightly angered at their hesitation. If they didn't act soon than she would have to and that was not what she wanted to do in the least bit.
"Let her go, now!" Bors yelled. All the knights wanted to move, but none wanted the woad to even flinch, for fear that he might harm Elaine in the process.
Tristan inched forward, but he knew that the woad would act if he got to close. Elaine, turning her gaze from the other knights to the scout, stared pleadingly, secretly begging the man to do something. But he couldn't. Tristan stared right back into her deep brown eyes, silently communicating his sorry without even a single sound.
Elaine sighed. "Well," she said against the woad's grip, "if you're just going to stand there, you leave me no choice."
Before her brother could even begin to frown in confusion about her words, Elaine's hands, which had rested tightly against her thighs, moved, uncovering two long and unusual knifes. Carefully hidden behind her forearms and pressed against her dress, the woad hadn't know that the lady carried the blades. Not until they lay, plunged deep in both his thighs. Wailing in agony, the woad dropped to his knees, and Elaine swirled around, slicing his throat, thus cutting the wail short. A second woad, hearing his brother's screams, came running out from his hiding spot in the woods. He cried out, charging towards Elaine with sword raised high above his head. Elaine turned to the knights for a quick annoyed look, before she hurled one of her blades at great speed, into the head of the woad. Again, a woad cry was cut quickly short, by the agile movements of the lady they had tried to capture.
Elaine stood above the body of the first woad, panting from the excursion, as well as excitement. It always took her a couple of moments to compose herself after a kill, not that she killed this way so much, but it was her duty before. A duty to her people; one that every man, and woman vowed to keep.
The men stood stunned, weapons at there sides, staring at the lady they had just started to get to know. The lady whom they rescued, the one who repaid them with a meal, the one who was Arthur's one blood, and thus almost instantly had gained some respect and trust from them. Did she just kill?
Tristan moved closer to the lady. Brushing beside her gently, he examined each woad carefully, as if he were judging her work. He knew she had been trained from his little test the night before, he just didn't sense how well she actually was. He turned, looking in Elaine's downcast face, and sighed. This would be a problem in the future he was sure. And one he'd have to worry about from then until that point in time.
Arthur, the most stunned of all the men, couldn't move, couldn't even breathe. For after years and years of longing for that tiny, innocent girl that he had lost to some bandit the same day he had lost his last parent, he finally was brought back down to reality. He was such a fool. How could he not think that Elaine would not have been affected in any way by living nearly fourteen years with the Celts.
"Arthur?" Lancelot said. He too was shocked, but still could bare to tear his eyes away from the scene before him.
Arthur was jolted back into the present by his knight's voice, but failed to be able to look away from his sister. "Right, we must be going."
Elaine turned back to the knights, and followed Arthur. "Arthur? Arthur, please look at me."
The Roman continued to his horse, ignoring the tearful pleas of his sister.
"Arthur, please let me explain."
No longer able to ignore her appeals, Arthur responded, "Back to the carriage, my lady."
The coldness in his voice and the emotionless light in his eyes made Elaine choked on a sob. Not willing to weep in front of the men, Elaine held her trembling hands to her mouth, dropping the bloodied knives at her brothers feet, and dashing back to the carriage. She slammed into Dagonet's giant chest, another sob erupting from her. He looked down upon the poor girl with benevolent eyes, as he steadied her by the shoulders.
"Forgive me," she whispered, not meeting the knights eyes, before she ducked into the carriage and out of sight. Lamorak naturally concerned, tried to follow Elaine into the carriage, but was stopped by Gawain's strong hand.
"No, cousin. Let her be."
"Gawain," Lamorak said with annoyance in his voice, "Let me pass, she needs comfort."
"Not by you."
"Don't be a fool, Gawain."
Gawain pushed hard on the younger man's chest, "Stay, you'll only make it worse for her if you come barging in. She needs some time alone. If you care even a little, you'll grant her space."
Lamorak lamented over his cousin's words of truth, but slowly retreated back to his horse.
Lancelot and Kay stood by their leader, both staring down at the abandoned knives at Arthur's feet. The three of them had been best friends since the day they met. Although it seemed that Lancelot and Arthur had a slightly stronger connection, Kay was held high in both the other's hearts. Each man knew the other better than they knew themselves.
Lancelot finally broke the silence, walking up towards Arthur's face, before turning towards his horse.
"Remind me never to get behind the dagger of woad, for fear of your wrath, hmm?"
Hearing the disdain and disrespect in Lancelot's voice, Arthur's anger and shame only grew. "We ride through the night, and arrive at the Wall in the morning," he shouted out to his men.
Kay sighed, "Arthur, go to her."
Arthur shook his head, turning back to his off-white steed, and placing Excalibur in it's ornate sheath.
"She deceived me, Kay."
Kay scoffed at the foolish comment. "Arthur, she obviously feared your response, which evidently she was correct about."
"She could have told me."
"And how would you have responded Arthur, hmm? You would have turned stoned face once again, and cast her down as if she were a nothing but a common wench."
"I...but she fights."
"Yes, and what exactly is wrong about that? I'd consider it a blessing that she can defend herself against such attacks."
Arthur acknowledged that truth, but still wasn't sure.
"She is so changed, Kay. She isn't the little girl, but a woman."
"Yes Arthur," Kay said softer, placing a hand on his friends shoulder, "but so have you. Let some time pass, and you will see that she is still much the same, only...better."
Arthur smiled despite himself, as he remembered their childish exchange before in her carriage.
"You are right Kay. Oh God! I am such a fool."
"No, my friend. You're just an older brother."