The phrase Elena quotes "My father used to say 'the first time you fall in love it changes your life forever, and no matter how hard you try, the feeling never goes away. And no matter what you do, they'll stay with you forever'." is from The Notebook.
Chapter 7: Battlefield
The next morning, all of the knights gathered to the front of the castle. They were dressed properly in their full suits of armor, and ready with their weapons at hand. Horses well fed and energized, they trotted around the gate, waiting impatiently to go. Each knight was situated upon their horse, with Arthur at the head. Guinevere was already on her own horse, clad in her leather Woad outfit, her hair pinned up, and her body painted blue in the name of her gods. Several blades were sheathed around her waist and against her legs, and she had both ax and knife in hand. Arthur gave a wryly smile in the direction of Guinevere, and she returned one as well. They whispered proper 'I love you's' .
And lastly, Elena was propped onto her own horse, sitting tall. She had shed her gown for a sleeveless blouse and plain jean trousers. She was barefoot, and she swung her bow around her shoulders and carried the arrows in a leather strap across her back. Leather bands protected her wrists and forearms. Buckled around her waist, a scabbard protected her long sword, the hilt encrusted with a single round sapphire. She bore a twisted cord around her neck, and her hair was pinned up casually, strands of hair falling forehead into her face. Arthur looked down the line of knights and nodded. He raised his hand and the gate opened instantly.
"If this be our destiny, so be it! For as long as we have inhabited this earth, let our enemies know that as free men, we chose to make it so!" He drew Excalibur out of his scabbard and thrust it towards the Heavens. His knights followed suit, yelling and charging forward on their horses. With Arthur at the front, they formed two lines from him, to his left and right. Lancelot, Galahad, Gawain, and Bors took his right, while Elena, Guinevere, Tristan and Dagonet took to Arthur left. The hoofs of their horses trampled the grass beneath them, a loud drumming sound echoing the hills and valleys of Camelot. Arthur suddenly held up his arm and everyone stopped. They were in an open field, with only the hill ahead of them as their obstacle. Guinevere trotted forwards to meet her husband.
"Arthur, what is it? Why have we stopped?"
"I feel something here." He replied simply, leading his horse round in circles. Then, he faced his knights- "Tristan, scout ahead and see what is beyond those hills."
The mysterious knight led his horse and his falcon towards the hill cautiously. All the others could do was wait. Guinevere rounded her horse towards Elena with a slight smile.
"Ah, the waiting of a war. It is much more intense than the actual war itself." Elena smiled, putting her bow across the horse's back.
Guinevere laughed, "So true. I just hope that this war will not cause too many casualties. We did not bring any healers here and the castle is awhile away. If any serious injury occurs, we will be in trouble."
"Not to worry, Guinevere. I have brought my remedies with me." Elena held up a leather sack. "I am a healer."
Guinevere eyes widened, "A healer? Why, the legends never said that you were a healer."
"Legends are often mistaken. But I know of all the herbs and medicines in this land, and their proper uses and mixtures. I can be able to whip up something quickly in cause of a fatality. Hopefully, we will be able to avoid it at all costs, of course."
"Yes, let us hope so." Guinevere sighed and looked to Arthur. Elena noticed the stolen glance between the two and smiled.
"You love him, do you not?"
Guinevere flushed, but nodded anyways. "Very much so. I cannot imagine a life without him." She spoke in all honesty.
"As with most people and their great loves. But tell me this, would you be willing to die for him?"
"Of course I would. I would protect him until certain death parts us."
"It really is worth fighting for, being brave for, risking everything for ust so you know you love and are loved back. I know many remedies to heal wounds, but there is no remedy for love but to love more."
Guinevere looked away, biting down on her lip. She caught Arthur's eye once more and smiled, their tender looks becoming more and more of a habit for her. She turned back to Elena.
"One word frees us all the weight and pain of life, the war that rages on around us, and the wretchedness of this cruel world we both knows of. That word is love. In all my lifetime, this word has managed to keep me alive throughout all the battles I have fought and all the enemies I have slain. And this war will be no different."
Elena nodded gravely to the other woman, and dismounted her horse. She walked to the edge of the hill, where a cool strong breeze overtook her. Smiling to herself, she closed her eyes and let the wind gust alongside her. All at once, her hazel eyes flashed open.
"Merlin," she said, turning round to greet the wizard. His robes were a deep blue and he leaned on his staff, amused. Though his brow was creased and loomed over his eyes with age, the wizard had been nothing but a father figure to her throughout her entire life.
"Have you come to help him then? To help him win his war?"
"I am a warrior. I help anyone I can, be it not Roman or Briton, man or woman. My strength will guide him through this."
"Aye. This is your purpose, Elena. Purpose sees people through any obstacles, and through hell. Your purpose is not just to help this Roman, but to show him a deeper understanding of the world he resides."
"Merlin, you ramble endlessly and to what avail? Men cannot understand everything they are taught."
"You do not need to teach him. You just need to show him." He counseled. "Stay here, Elena, to help him. I fear terrible years coming for him and devastation of Camelot."
"I will, but not for you, Merlin. I will stay for Arthur, and for Lancelot. He needs me as much as Arthur does, perhaps even more."
Merlin nodded, "I know. That knight does not trust or forgive. He is barely human. He does not believe in any gods, nor does he know what he is here for. He does not believe in a destiny or fate. A broken arrogant man, some would say he is."
"What of my love for him then? Is it for nothing?"
"Love is not ours to command. You love this man, not because of who he is, but because of whom he makes you. The same goes for him."
A long-filled silence sliced through their conversation. The sound of hooves clip-clopped their way towards them. Elena looked up to see Arthur towering them both.
"Elena, we are ready. Tristan says that the Saxons are approaching near. We must prepare." She nodded to show her understanding, strolling back to her horse. Arthur turned to Merlin with a weary eye.
"What are you doing here, Merlin?"
"Only to observe a good battle between you and the Saxons." Merlin replied good-humoredly.
"Oh Merlin, you always know when to interfere. I am fighting for freedom here, and you wander into the picture with a blink of an eye."
"What do you take of Elena?" The wizard strayed away from Arthur's comments. The King looked to the Lady of Wales, who was now mounting her horse. His green eyes flickered back to the wizard.
"A figure of great beauty and wisdom. She is different from the rest of us, she knows of something we do not, and she possesses something we will never achieve." He said, in all truthfulness.
"Yes, she is something entirely unknown to this earth. But she is here for a purpose, Arthur, like the rest of us. She will aid you and walk you through the shadows of death and the fortress of life."
"Many men have done that for me--"
"Ah, no, Arthur, they have not. You believed they do, and they say they do, but truth be told, they do not and will never. Not even your beloved Guinevere will do such a thing. But Elena will. She will force through any such barrier to guide you. Don't you forget this Arthur, because when you do, it will be too late." Merlin turned to the left and vanished. Arthur stared at the spot where Merlin was last, brooding over what the old wizard just told him.
"Do not meddle in the affairs of wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger." Guinevere appeared at his side. Arthur spun to greet her, and smiled. She leaned over and kissed him on his cheek. "We should be going. Tristan says that the Saxon army is only a distance away."
Arthur said nothing, but nodded, following his wife back towards the rest of the knights. He perceived a platonic relationship between Elena and the rest of the knights, save Lancelot. Though the two were trying to hide their newfound affection, the King saw through their hidden curtain. He was not displeased; on the contrary, he found it much to his amusement and liking. He smirked as he watched Lancelot give Elena a much flirtatious glance, which she returned surreptitiously.
"Knights, and ladies," he acknowledged the two women, "it is time. Draw your weapons." They did so in turn, until the sharp clink of metal died away. The wind settled in, and an ominous gray sky rolled into view. Arthur drew in a sharp breath as he felt the ground rumbling underneath.
Elena observed her other comrades in action. They were posed, faces forward with determined looks and burning hatred. Her brow knitted as she saw the first Saxon come into view, a scout it was. Drawing an arrow to her bow quietly, she prepared for the first move.
The Saxons lined up on the other side of the hill. For a moment, the two armies waited in vain for the other to produce the first move. Elena felt Dagonet on her right shift uneasily, wanting to start the battle. True to form, he raised his ax and charged forward. Arthur groaned in vain as he watched his knight march ahead with his weapon high above his head. A Saxon followed Dagonet's move and dashed forward as well, equipped with sword and dagger. This Saxon was twice the size of Dagonet. If Arthur didn't do something, the formidable knight would surely be killed.
Click. Elena drew her full-size bow back effortlessly and held it there without the slightest shake. Her feat impressed Arthur's battle-hardened knights a great deal as they watched her first arrow fly across the field and hit the Saxon with deadly accuracy, just before he managed to knock Dagonet from his horse. This stirred a row with the Saxons and they marched forward until they were an arm's length from Arthur army.
"Dead accuracy, my lady." The leader of the Saxons, Cedric, grinned toothlessly. Elena retreated in disgust, clutching her bow tightly. "You are quite lucky you just killed a scout, or there would have been deadly consequences to follow. In fact, this scout was nothing but a pathetic excuse for a knight, so I thank you for diminishing him."
"I do not need your thanks, Cedric. Your blood would do good." Elena replied in her calm manner. The Saxon leader raised his eyebrows at the proposal, but said nothing.
"Well then, I'm afraid you are going to have to come and get it." Cedric said, raising his sword to strike. Just as he was about to bring it down on Elena, Lancelot drew out his own sword in the twinkling of an eye and collided with Cedric's. Elena didn't even flinch. This move stimulated the beginning of the war. Cedric's son, Cynric, thrust his sword towards Gawain, who immediately raised his axe and crushed Cynric's sword to the side, running off to join Bors. Arthur and Guinevere fought side-by-side, and within minutes, many of the Saxons were dead. Galahad shoved his shield against the bodies of the Saxons, slashing them across the field. Cynric caught up with Galahad halfway. Meanwhile, Tristan slew the Saxon scouts with his oriental-influenced, curved blade, all in swift motions. And Elena scouted the perimeter, slitting one Saxon's throat and plunging her dagger in another. She strung her bow and arrow smoothly each time she saw a potential threat come close to one of the knights.
Now, Galahad was the youngest of the Sarmatian knights, and took no pleasure in fighting or killing. He referred to the forced fifteen-year service as a "bad memory" and did not kill for pleasure, like his fellow knight Tristan did. Because of this, he was rather hesitant in his behavior to kill Cynric as they battled and this uncertainty delivered a sharp wound in his chest. He fell backwards, his head lolling on the ground and his weapon far within reach. Cynric grinned maliciously to himself, and joined his father in battling Lancelot. Elena was the first to notice Galahad fall. She quickly ran through the bodies of both Saxon and Sarmatian, and fell to Galahad's side. His short intakes of breaths alarmed her greatly, and without a moment's delay, she slid her arm under his and dragged him to the edge of the battlefield. Supporting his shoulders, she unbuttoned his armor to find the wound.
"Elena?" Galahad murmured, choking out blood. She brought a cloth to his lips and wiped off the blood, and then turned back to his injury. Her stomach rolled at the sight of his shirt, now saturated with red crimson blood. Shaking fingers pulled out the bottom three buttons and suddenly the wound was exposed to the cool wind. Galahad closed his eyes at the sight of the tear in his skin, dribbled in blood, and clenched his teeth against the pain. Gathering all his remaining strength, he lifted his head to look at Elena. "Elena."
"Shh, don't speak, Galahad. It'll make the pain much worse. Your wound is very deep, and you're losing a lot of blood. Luckily, I brought some remedies that might help. Hold still," she commanded, taking her bag and bringing out fresh bandages and healing remedies. Reaching into her satchel, she produced several glass bottles and three small pouches, creating an array of color.
"We must bandage your wound," she spoke in a gentle voice. "We'll cleanse it with some water, coat the wound with the mixture of herbs I brought, and wrap it with the bandages." She carefully began to dab at the wound, only provoking the slightest twitch from Galahad, whose head was lolling back. She continued to clean until she was satisfied and reached for the smallest bottle. Uncorking it, the bottle erupted a vapor of purple scented steam, and she tilted the bottle to a piece of cloth, letting the liquid soak in. As she pressed it to the wound, Galahad twitched again.
"I'm sorry if it is a bit painful, but it should help." She said. The Sarmatian felt a slight twinge go up his arm as she applied another mixture to his arm, but sat in silence. When she had gone through all the bottles, she began meticulously wrapping his torso in bandages.
"You love him, don't you?" Galahad asked, repeating the same question Elena had asked Guinevere about an hour ago. The Roman-Briton snapped her head up to look at the injured knight.
"What do you mean?"
"Lancelot. You love him." It wasn't a question, but a statement.
Elena bowed her head, pinning the bandages in place. "I do not know what you mean, Galahad."
"Yes, you do. I know. I can tell when my Sarmatian brother has fallen. I can see he has fallen for you. And you as well, my lady, you have fallen for him too."
She looked into his eyes, stunned. Flushed, she smiled slightly. "I cannot deny it any longer. Yes, Galahad, I do. I love him very much."
"And he? Does he love you back?"
"I do not know. He is unpredictable, a man I know not of. Whether he loves me or not, I do not know completely. But I'll tell you this much. My father used to say 'the first time you fall in love it changes your life forever, and no matter how hard you try, the feeling never goes away. And no matter what you do, they'll stay with you forever'." He was right. I know now, whatever I do next, wherever I go, Lancelot will always be besides me, whether I want him to or not."
"The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return. Most people have one or the other. You have both. You are one of the luckier ones when it comes to finding true love."
She was touched by the injured Sarmatian's words. All around her, she heard the cries of defeat, the painful agony of death, and the calls of revenge, but right here, she was immersed in the profound truth of love.
"Thank you Galahad," She finally managed to say. "Now lay back and rest. We will have to tend to your wounds when we go back to the castle. But for now, that should stop the blood from spilling out." She helped him redress his armor and positioned him so that he was comfortable and hidden from the eyes of their enemies. She surveyed the battlefield and noticed to her horror; Lancelot was slowly fading from battling Cynric. She immediately ran to his side, and just as Cynric raised his sword, intending to kill the fallen Sarmatian, Elena raised her own sword and clashed it with the Saxon's.
A few swipes and she managed to knock Cynric into another Saxon. The two of them toppled over each other. Elena turned her attention to Lancelot, who had blood running down a side of his face. He stood up shakily, checking over the battlefield. With a slight cry, he grabbed her shoulders and said-- "Elena, where is Galahad?"
"He was wounded by Cynric, and is left with a deep wound in his chest, but I tended to him as soon as I saw him fall. He is alright, and will make it as long as we get him back to the castle." She replied.
"He is alright? You are sure?"
"Yes, he'll be just fine." Elena reassured him. At this moment, Cynric had recovered from his fall and brushed himself up. Ruthlessly taking the bow and arrow from a passing Saxon, he strung the arrow and aimed it for Elena. Lancelot, upon noticing the fleeting arrow coming towards them, grabbed Elena and pulled her away, the arrow crossing inches from contact. However, it still managed to pierce her skin and blood slowly trickled from her open wound. The Sarmatian knight pulled her away to the edge of the battlefield, surveying her wound with fear.
"Elena! Are you alright?" The woman nodded and produced her cloth. She pressed it against her wound, and within minutes, the cloth was stained red.
"I will be fine, Lancelot. It is but a small wound." She assured him. Lancelot shifted his gaze to the battle, observing his comrades in action. It seemed that Dagonet was having some trouble against a broad Saxon. He pointed this out to Elena, who straightaway shot an arrow through the battle and knocked out the Saxon. Dagonet gave both of them a hearty thumbs-up, then ran to help Bors.
The battle lasted for another thirty minutes before Cedric retreated from the battle with his son and a few other Saxons. They ran over the hill and disappeared from sight. Arthur was now surveying each of his knights and the fallen Saxons before them. Except for a few cuts and scraps, each of his knights seemed to be fighting fit, and he rounded his horse to the side, where he saw Lancelot and Elena talking.
The knights followed Arthur as he approached Lancelot and Elena. His best friend looked perfectly fine, save some blood running down the side of his face, and the Lady of Wales was practically glowing, even as blood oozed from her exposed wound. "Is everyone alright?" Arthur asked. A few murmurs of "yes" repeated, and Arthur was satisfied.
"Galahad is wounded." Elena said, motioning to the sleeping knight. Arthur bent down and checked his conditions, while Elena explained what happened and how she tended to his wounds. Convinced that Galahad was not severely injured, he managed to deliver a smile.
"Well, brave knights and ladies, we have done our deed. The Saxons have been defeated for now. Let us go home." Everyone mounted the horses, except Lancelot and Elena, who supported Galahad to Arthur's horse. Elena swung herself on her own horse and gripped the reins of Galahad horse. Once Lancelot was on his white mare, they trotted back to Camelot with a victory in their hearts.