Disclaimer: As in last chapter – I own nothing…apart from the village. On a seperate note - "March to Glory" (Lancelot's horse) belongs to the series "Thoroughbred" by Joanna Campbell - no not the horse, the name xD the name belongs to the series, but I thought the name somehow suited a war-hardened horse that's seen victory. Now…if I owned the knights…
Ooh and I think this'll be the last time I do a disclaimer…it's the same every time, if it isn't I'll do a mini disclaimer at the top saying what else I'm disclaiming.

A/N: Oh my! 5 reviews for a little prologue --bows down-- you people are great --gives knight shaped cookies to every reviewer and reader-- xD

Celebsiwe – mwah, thank you muchlys. Luckily for me, you haven't read the first chapter in a little while…pets you xD

LANCELOTTRISTANBABY – I couldn't find it in my heart to let any of the knights die…so…they live. I hope you like this chapter…and if everyone's lucky (including me) I'll get the second chapter up either later on today or asap tomorrow. Thanks for the review xD

KnightMaiden – hehe thank you --bows-- Hm…well to start with – Lancelot gets to do something he never thought he'd do…and I've got a character or two lined up for some of the knights so you'll just have to wait and see. Thankies muchlys for the review. Hope this chapter pleases you xD

Voldie on Varsity Track – you've seen Spamalot? Lucky you. I want to see Spamalot. Lancelot? Gay? Well it might work with the storyline…possibly, that'd be a very interesting twist. Thanks for the review xD

Wanderer of the Roads - --suffocates-- it's awesome? Why thank you hehehe. The title is cool? Well it's actually a playoff…you'll see in the second/third chapters mwah. I wanted humour so I decided that waltzing knights would give that humour to me and to anyone who would read it xD I know Lancelot is cute, why do you think he's my precious? heeee.I know, I couldn't reallyundestand it when he said he wanted peace. But he's oh so sweet, I have to agree. Tristan, wise, yup I can see that. I have to agree, I think he's wise too. Isn't it said that wise men don't say much unless they have to or something along those lines? Well even if it isn't a sort of saying, I say it is. Yes, leaving for the village…don't forget that four knights had some ale. And here is a chapter for you xD

Thanks ever so for the reviews, and I hope everyone enjoys this chapter.

"Lancelot, wake up!"

Lancelot mumbled into his pillow and grunted.

"Lancelot, this isn't amusing!"

"Go 'way, I'm sleeping," Lancelot lifted his hand, which then flopped over the edge of the bed and lay quite still.

"Lancelot! I thought I told Dagonet to tell you, Bors, Gawain and Galahad about the village that was destroyed by the Saxons north-west of here yesterday," Arthur ran his hand through his tousled hair and glared at the still figure on the bed.

Lancelot lay on his bed for a few more moments, grunted again and opened one eye and glanced at Arthur. "What has that got to do with waking me up before dawn? What do you mean to achieve by it?"

"It means my dear friend, that, we are going to the village. We are leaving at dawn. You might want to get up otherwise I promise you faithfully, I'll have Jols attach rope around your feet and you can be dragged all the way to the village. Would that suit you better?" Arthur threw back the blanket covering his friend and glared at him.

"They told us 'bout the village but nothing about leaving today. Now."

"I would've thought that would have been clear to you my dear fellow. Will you get up?" Arthur paced the room, a frown etching his forehead.

"Arthur, what is bothering you?" Lancelot sat up, ran a hand through his hair and stared at Arthur.

"Have you seen Bors recently? Not since the four of you staggered to your rooms no doubt. Care to have a look at him?" Arthur said. "You all should not have become drunk last night. It had dire consequences on all of you. The last I saw of Gawain, he was making unpleasant sounds outside the stables."

Arthur strode out of the room, leaving the door open.

Lancelot went over to the door and shut it, thinking.

Bors, Lancelot, Gawain and Galahad were so drunk by the time that they had finished drinking the night before – they had drunk themselves into oblivion so that they had been retching in paddocks and outside the stable. Amazingly, they had managed to get to their rooms; Lancelot seemed to remember Jols hovering around somewhere.

Sighing, Lancelot shrugged on his shirt, pulled on his boots and walked out of the door.

The stables were a flurry of activity as Lancelot walked into the yard.

Dagonet and Tristan were leading their horses out of their respective stalls – both men looked ready to go to battle.

Galahad was swaying as he did up the girth on his saddle.

Bors was leaning on the door of his horse's stall groaning heavily.

Gawain wasn't to be seen, but judging on what Arthur told Lancelot when he woke him up – Lancelot could understand if Gawain couldn't be found anywhere normal.

Sighing, Lancelot looked for his tack.

"Jols," he motioned the squire over.

"Morning Lancelot. Feeling better then last night?" Jols hurried over to the stall door, where Lancelot was standing.

'Aha! So he was the one who helped me to bed last night…or…at least had something to do with it,' Lancelot realised. "Jols, I'd love to know something."

"Lancelot?" Jols frowned at him.

Lancelot leaned on the stall door and looked at the squire, and, in a stage whisper, asked – "Where in the name of all things Christian is Glory?"

Glory. No, not a mare, Glory is a stallion. His full name is March to Glory, given to Lancelot after Lancelot lost his first horse – Achilles – during a fight.

Jols chuckled. "Sorry Lancelot. Didn't anyone tell you? I was told by Arthur to tack up Glory and take him out of his stall. He's waiting in the yard…didn't you see him there?"

"Oh. Thank you Jols," Lancelot shuffled his feet and walked to the yard.

"Lancelot, I do hope you are not planning to ride with us. Where is your armour and swords?" Tristan remarked, looking under his horse's neck at Lancelot.

"I do hope you still aren't suffering from your drinking habits last night," Dagonet looked over. "I do not wish to have to be looking after more than one suffering knight."

"Where is Gawain?" Lancelot looked around the yard, looking for the knight that was not to be found.

"I last saw him running out of here for a tree," Tristan commented. "He should be back soon enough," he then swung his leg over his horse's back and sat, looking down at Lancelot.

Having found Gawain lying under a tree, not moving, he was forced to get up and ride with the knights. Arthur was unmerciful – it was Gawain's fault that he was like this and he had to carry his fault. Therefore, he had to ride with the knights, whether he liked it or not.

Bors rode up to beside Lancelot. "The ale hasn't made you succumb to it yet?"

"Does it look that way?" Lancelot smirked. "Remind me to tell Vanora, I never knew that you could look so pathetic in the morning."

Bors growled. "Don't you think about it boy."

Lancelot smiled and urged his horse into a canter to reach their leader.

"Arthur."

"Lancelot."

"Arthur, why are we travelling to a village that the Saxons destroyed only yesterday? They might still be in the area."

"I know - we just have to hope that they're not. There was a man in the village entrusted with something. I must know if it's still there or not. If it is we're taking it to the wall for protection."

Lancelot looked puzzled. "What exactly?"

"To start with, there are maps. Maps of secret routes that Saxons have taken in the past years, and that they still use. To know the routes will give us the advantage. Secondly, there is a family that I had taken into my care – the mother had been abused by Saxons in the past."

'Arthur's forehead is forever etched with sorrow, grief or thought nowadays,' Lancelot thought. "So we're travelling now to see if we can find them? In the hope that they might have fled and survived? We are riding in the hope that they live, although it is doubtful. Arthur, it's pointless. The Saxons burn villages to the ground and kill every living thing. What is the point? The maps would have been burned," Lancelot protested, looking at his friend.

Arthur nodded. "But we try Lancelot. Isn't that what we've always done? We always will as well. The maps, if not taken, would not have been burnt."

"What makes you so sure?" Lancelot raised an eyebrow and stared at Arthur.

"They were hidden in one of the huts in the ground. The villagers had dug a hole which turned into an underground room where they hid the maps and anything sacred to the families. I hope that the Saxons were not smart enough to realise about the trap door," Arthur replied quietly.

"We pin our hopes on people who might be your servants?" Lancelot snorted. "Forgive me Arthur, but frankly, it is all in vain in my eyes."

With that, Lancelot rode ahead of the rest of the group, save for Tristan. Tristan was scouting the area ahead to make sure that they wouldn't ride into a band of Saxons.

Arthur sighed. However much he loved his knights, he wished that they would understand certain things the way he did.

'That is why I love Guinevere,' Arthur thought. 'She always has a good argument why or why not, and she doesn't act like a spoilt child,' – glancing ahead at the dark headed knight who kept his back turned to him – 'she debates. Oh God, find it within your heart to help me, and I will help my knights as much as possible in return.'