Immortal: Happy Halloween everybody! God, it's been a full year since I started posting this story. I wanted to post this on the anniversary, but as per usual I was not satisfied with the chapter, so I kept reviewing and checking it to make sure it was worthy of being posted. Also, admittedly the events in Fate/Grand Order also kept me distracted.

Gudako: I can safely say that for the most part I had nothing to do with his rolls, but when it came to Darth Rin... well it wouldn't be me if I didn't whale for that using Immortal's money!

Immortal: For the love of all that is righteous what the hell is the matter with you!? It's just a freaking game! One that I love and adore passionately, but there's no need to literally make me burn money for it you freaking gremlin!

Gudako: Would you like to keep playing the game or keep your balls? Or ovaries, I dunno, whatever you use to reproduce.

Immortal: …I would like my reproductive organs left unharmed. But on a more serious note, I would like to thank Avenger1649 for helping me brainstorm here and help get this story straightened out and make sure that the plot makes sense and is believable.

Gudako: They were a real help in getting this Mordred simp in gear, so be sure to check their stories out, and I highly recommend their story, "Something Lost, Something Found". I ain't gonna spoil it because if you people can use the internet for porn, then you can use the internet to read this for yourselves.

Disclaimer: This story is fan-based writing. All characters and locations are owned by their respective copyright holders for the Nasuverse as well as Arthurian mythology. I do not own them in any way, shape, form, or concept to include Reality Marbles, Singularities, or Lostbelts. Please support the official release, but don't go too crazy spending your money on the Fate/Grand Order gacha!

The Adventures of Mordred the Squire

Rescue at Kelly Rounds, PT 1

"Well?", snapped Mark impatiently, "Aren't you going to read the rest of it or are you going to just stand there and make us wait until the return of the Messiah in Heaven! Goddammit boy, just how long does it take for you to finish that damned letter?!"

Mordred snapped out of her daze before she looked at the letter again. The words, "Morgan le Faye is dead" was all she could be fixated on. The thought of her mother dead had left her momentarily paralyzed with shock, but King Mark's impatience won out and so she continued to read.

"… Morgan le Faye is dead, unless you present a ransom equivalent to 20 percent of all incomes to your lands, access to your armory for our personal use, indentured servitude of half of your most skilled craftsmen, and your finest seaworthy craft. You will send forth your ransom and letters confirming your agreement to ransom with your official seal to the castle of your deposed lord at the open field by Castle Killibury. Upon the receipt of your ransom, I will determine the time and location for the return of Morgan le Faye.

You have three days to comply. Failure to do so will result in the execution of the witch as well as the desolation of your people and your lands, CUCKOLD KING.

Sir Breuse Sans Pitie "

Mordred read the letter a few more times in silent stupor, wondering at just how deadly this knight must be to have imprisoned her mother. Was he a powerful mage possessing untold magical powers above even her mother? Could he be a mystery knight with arms and armaments equal to one of the Round Table Knights? These thoughts and more were rampaging through the squire's mind before King Mark groused.

"Pox upon that shit brown knight! "The Brown Knight Without Pity" indeed! If he's a knight, then I'm a horse's ass!"

"But- but just who is he?", Mordred asked with a frantic edge to her voice, "What kind of person could possibly capture my mother?"

King Mark drummed his fingers on his throne before he answered, "To his origins I can't quite say, but he's a tough bastard that somehow managed to be knighted despite every evidence to the contrary that he isn't deserving to be one. He might not even BE a real knight for all that's known about him, he changes the story every time, but what IS known about him is that he uses a bloody monstrous horse that he uses to ride down his enemies. Not only is it able to crush and break down fully armored knights, but it is incredibly swift as if it were the wind personified. His horse is so fast that he has always been able to escape capture. Even when his horse has been killed, no mean feat in itself, he fights using every dirty trick he can think of, and when he is on the verge of defeat, he asks for mercy and throws his sword down in surrender. Bloody code of honor amongst knight's demands that if he has yielded, then he cannot be struck down lest his opponent be dishonored, but when he gets his opponent's guard down, his horse is resurrected via some dark magic and it enables him to escape. This is how he has been able to evade even King Arthur for so long."

The disgust on the king's face was evident as well as his frustration with the inability to capture or execute him. Disgust filled Mordred at how such a cowardly man could exist, who used knightly codes of conduct to his advantage and yet never adhering to it.

But King Mark surprised her further by telling Mordred, "Furthermore, he loves to depose knights and lords of their homes, and after he has killed them, he takes their women. When he's done with them, he kills them outright, or if he enjoyed them, he leaves them with the promise to return for more. Like I said boy, he's ill-made. A monster in human skin. Your mother is well... she's a woman. Women are weak creature's lad, it's just in their nature. That's just the way it is. I grant that your mother has magical prowess, but against a group of men that the Brown Knight keeps in addition to himself well…"

King Mark cut himself off at the distress and growing rage in the young squire, grumbling the rest to himself. He wasn't blind as most people seemed to think he was and he knew wrath when he saw it. Even a curmudgeon like himself found it distasteful to spell out what kind of fate the squire's mother would likely suffer, since it would serve no purpose beyond just fueling the fire inside Mordred. The boy was stronger and quicker than any child his age ought to be and unnaturally tough too if he was able to last so long as squire to Sir Bertilak. In truth, after hearing about what Mordred had done some time ago, the boy had made him nervous because he was reminded about Arthur and the monsters he kept about his court.

"Calm yourself boy.", said Mark as he redirected his attention back to the squire as he saw him grip the letter so tightly that any second it would be shredded, "I gave my word of protection to you and your mother, so we will get her back. I will order Big Green himself to see this done. We'll see just how well the Brown Knight stands up to the Green Knight. I'm not blind nor stupid despite what most people seem to think. The Brown Knight makes these ridiculous and impossible demands because it gives him the excuse to do what he wants and have the nerve to say he was justified in his atrocities because he was cheated."

Relief flooded Mordred and even though her distress had not gone away, she still felt the weight on her heart relieved knowing that her master would personally be involved. It didn't matter what kind of man Breuse was, surely Sir Bertilak would not be so stupid as to fall for his tricks! More importantly, Mordred knew with certainty that she also would be attending the campaign since she was his squire. But before she could ask the king for his leave to go, he stunned her with his next statement.

"You however will remain here at this castle."

The words didn't register to Mordred and at first she didn't quite know how to respond so she simply stared at the king. What could she do? Threaten, beg, demand, bargain? However distant her mother had been since arriving at Cornwall, however much she had hated the baths, the hurtful words, the strict disciplining, the forceful shearing of her hair and everything else, Mother was still Mother, and Mordred still loved her. What kind of knight could she hope to be if she couldn't even protect her own birth giver?

"Your majesty, my mother is in danger! I MUST be allowed to go!"

It registered to Mordred that it was a stupidly childish outburst, but at the moment she didn't care and just said the first thing that came to her head.

"Oh really, you MUST be allowed to go?", retorted King Mark with a touch of sarcasm, "And how are you going to help huh? Polish your master's boots threateningly, carry his shield menacingly, scare the Brown Knight with a look? I gave my oath of protection and I will not be made a liar because you got captured or killed as well. Bad enough your mother was foolish enough to be captured, but I won't have it said I cannot protect those in my keeping."

The sneering horse-face, full of mockery caused Mordred's glare to be directed full force at the King, an insolent act normally punished instantly, but King Mark must have been feeling unusually charitable because he gripped the arms of his throne so tightly his knuckles turned white said with a quivering glower, "Oooh, scary… maybe if we took your eyes out then we could frighten our enemies to stillness like the Gorgon of Greek myth? Keep giving me that insolent glare at me boy and we really WILL blind you with hot pokers!"

But Mordred was in the throes of rage that only a child could possess and continued to bore her gaze into the king, but then the great doors behind them opened and in came Queen Iseult, her handmaids, and the Green Knight himself.

"You need to discipline your squire better Sir Bertilak.", said King Mark, pointing a stiff finger accusingly at him, "The brat thinks he can make demands of a king?! What the hell have you been teaching him?"

"Exactly what he needs to learn to be a knight, Your Majesty.", said Sir Bertilak, "But if my squire has been insolent, then I assure you that I will personally see to correcting this."

He glanced at Mordred as he passed her by before kneeling before the king. Even with him bending down, the Green Knight still looked bigger than the king on his throne. Mordred began to speak, but her master whispered sharply for her to be silent.

The King calmed himself when Iseult placed a hand gently on her husband's shoulder before he cleared his throat. He still was ashen-faced and angry, but drew himself back up and then he spoke with a tone that Mordred had not heard him use before. It was one that demanded obedience without question. The squire privately still believed he did not hold a candle to King Arthur's regal majesty, but there was definite authority to him as King Mark spoke, "Sir Bertilak, I order you. You are to rescue Morgan le Faye and bring her back alive. If you see the Brown Knight, capture him if you can, otherwise kill him and that damned horse of his. I… will write to King Arthur and inform him of the situation as it will be bordering on his territory."

The King then dismissed his court, before he once more iterated that the boy Mordred was to remain at Castle Tintagle. Mordred's glare returned, but the Green Knight slapped him up the backside of his head before he bowed to the king and grabbed the back of his squire's neck. He then forcefully marched the squire out of the throne room, but Mordred had lapsed into sullen silence at this point, shooting one last spiteful look at Mark before knight and squire left.

With the insolent squire gone, King Mark let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding in ever since Mordred shot that venomous look his way. His queen tried to speak to him and once more placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, but he snapped at her to leave and roughly shook her hand off him. Iseult nodded and said with not even a hint of stiffness to her words, "My lord."

"It's KING dammit! KING!", Mark shouted as the Queen took her handmaids and left the throne room. The King of Cornwall glanced down at his hands in frustration and noticed that they had been shaking. It was autumn and the castle was still warm from the hearths and blazers, but he couldn't understand just why he felt so bloody cold.

/~/

The Green Knight continued to forcefully march Mordred out and all the way to her personal room, ignoring her the whole way when she tried to talk or explain herself. But upon reaching her room he finally let her go and pushed her inside the room. He was too big to actually fit inside himself, since it was a stone room with a bed, a wooden cabinet, chamberpot, a small hearth, and a basin to wash herself in the morning.

"I need to go with you!", said Morgan hurriedly as she began to grab her cloak and knapsack that she always took with her when out with Sir Bertilak on patrols. She was speaking restlessly and rapidly even as the Green Knight tried to hold up a hand to silence her, "I'm strong! I can fight and I can ride! Please Sir Bertilak, let me come with you to save my Mother!".

"IF YOU DON'T STOP RIGHT NOW, YOU WILL NO LONGER BE MY SQUIRE!", roared Sir Bertilak when he lost patience with the squire in the midst of her panic. This sudden shouting as well as the threat itself finally calmed her down enough to at least look at the Green Knight.

"Listen.", emphasized the Green Knight with a frown, "LIS-TEN. I will go and bring your mother back safely. I cannot have you come with me because that will make it two people I have to look out for in this quest. I don't doubt you are strong and can fight. I should know, I trained you myself! But the truth is that you aren't a-"

"A knight? I know that I'm not a knight!", interrupted Mordred as she stepped up to her master, "But I can still fight and I can-"

"Can you kill?"

"Huh?"

"Can. You. Kill?"

The Green Knight glared down at her, "Because that's what we're going into, boy, we will be on a campaign that will end in bloodshed. You can fight against me true enough, but what will you do when your enemy tries to kill you with no remorse or pity?"

"I will kill them!", said Mordred as she squarely faced the Green Knight and looked at him dead in the eyes, "Besides, you tried to kill me earlier and I didn't run away!"

Her master at least had the grace to look slightly uncomfortable before he dismissed her point and said, "It's still too soon for you to go on this quest. I know that you want to rescue your Mother, but leave this to me. Unless you think that even I can't? Plus what good would you be if you came along anyway? I have trained you and prepared your mind and body, but this will not be a quest you can undertake. I can normally get away with doing as I please, but King Mark has given a direct order that I cannot refuse. Mordred, you will not accompany me and that is final."

"No I-"

"THAT IS FINAL.", said Sir Bertilak sharply, "You will wait here at this castle for me to return and I will hear no more argument."

Once more anger filled the squire and she darted forward to try to slip past Sir Bertilak, but he easily barred her path and shoved her back into the room as he stood as immovable as the castle itself. Then he shut the door and Mordred heard the jangling of keys before the door was locked. Mordred yelled and cursed as she battered at the door to break it down, but her shouts and pleas were left unanswered. She had no axe, no weapon, and nothing in the room with which she could use to break down the door. Once she got over her brief fit of anger after bruising her hands on the door, she sat down and began to stew in her anger.

No... this was something deeper than anger, something so hot that she wished the most painful of deaths and curses she could for King Mark and Sir Bertilak for doing this to her. How could they not see? How could they not understand that she needed to rescue her mother? If she couldn't do this, how could she possibly join the court of King Arthur? So she paced in the small room like a wolf captured in a cage as she tried hard to think of what to do with nothing coming to her for nearly an hour.

What she wanted to do, was break out of the room and accompany the Green Knight, King Mark's orders be damned. But with no tool and the door being made of solid oak three inches thick, she didn't have the means to break it down. If only she was stronger! Her Mother and Sir Bertilak had said she was a homunculus, not a human, so why wasn't she stronger?! Where were those feats of strength she used to survive the Green Knight's assault earlier? It took a further ten minutes before the squire calmed herself down using the breathing Sir Bertilak taught her try to think about that source of power, "mana" and "OD".

How did she activate it from before? Just what did she feel? Mordred scrunched her eyes shut and screwed her face up as she concentrated to try to think of just what she felt back then. What did she do and what did she feel when she broke her Master's arm?

…

…

…

Anger

Mordred's eyes shot open as she recalled what she felt was NOT anger. It was something even deeper than anger. It was a desire to hurt the Green Knight for trying to hurt her, to make him pay and suffer for trying to kill her. So how could she take those feelings and bring it to bear? She sat on the edge of her bed before she noticed in the midst of her worried mind, that she had still carried the letter that the Brown Knight had sent them. In the midst of her frantic state, she had forgotten she kept it with her. Mordred re-read the letter over and over again to try to pick up some more information.

"Castle Kilibury…", read the squire aloud as she said the name for memorization. It was here that her Mother surely was being held prisoner. It made sense to her after all. Why else would the Brown Knight name this place? Even though Mordred had passed by the place a few times during her horseback riding with Sir Bertilak, she saw that it was the perfect place to hide out. It had deep moats, strong stone walls, and open lands for miles around. King Mark had said that the Brown Knight's greatest and most dangerous feat was the horse he rode. So it stood to reason that he'd want an open field in order to be able to run away if things got too dangerous.

But now, here and now she HAD to get out. She sat back on her bed and weighed her options. She could try to call on her mana now to give her the strength to break down her door. But if that happened and Sir Bertilak was here, she would get caught and punished for sure. Scenarios ran through her mind of the punishments that King Mark would dole out to her if she was caught, from torture to death by various grisly means. The scenarios were so vivid and frightening that Morded began to shake, but the thought of her mother being put through worse pain and suffering was enough to force her to push down her own fears momentarily.

Yet the lingering and gnawing sensation of terror was persistent with the squire. For hours on end she sat in the room fretting and worrying, once or twice even coming close to tears. A small voice in her, sounding eerily similar to her Mother by coincidence, was chastising her for failing, for being weak, for being unable to come through when it mattered most.

"Mordred… Child… why did you let me die? Why didn't you save me? Don't you love me? Loyalty, loyalty, loyalty... only to me."

The last words came unbidden in her head and she felt close to collapsing in a ball of terrible anxiety. But as she envisioned her mother's face, her thoughts turned back to the one constant that she never let go of. Her sole rock and shelter in the storms of uncertainty and fear.

Arthur

King Arthur

The king she desired to serve was always in the back of her mind and at times even seemed to be a visible presence to her. It wasn't the strength in his sword arm that Mordred envisioned, nor was it just his regal and imposing command. It was the sense of calm and reassurance he gave. Though she couldn't remember his words when he spoke, it was just his voice that Mordred remembered. Calm, assured, confident, brave, and most importantly, decisive. She imagined his voice speaking to her, assuring her that she was not weak, and that she was strong. King Arthur shone radiantly in her mind like the sun as it broke the terror of the night, his face hidden by the shadow of his beautiful golden hair, and with that decisive voice, she could almost hear him that if she wanted to save her mother, she must do it herself.

So vivid was her imagination, that Mordred finally felt the fog of fear and uncertainty start to ebb away. It was like the sun breaking the fog and she clasped her hands together, like in Mass and began to pray like she was taught by the priests. To God, to King Arthur, to whomever listened out there for guidance on what she should do. Mordred honestly didn't know what to make of this higher being whom supposedly even Arthur worshipped above him, but with nothing else, the squire prayed aloud for some kind of revelation. No revelations came to her, but chance did as she waited and waited. The chance came much sooner than she thought and like an adder that had waited patiently for its prey, she would strike when the chance came.

/~/

Nighttime fell and Mordred still had nothing for her situation, but her prayers surely had to have been answered because when the hour was late, she received a knock at her door. It was one of the other pages, Rutger to be exact. The very same one whom Mordred had terrified the first time she ever had used her mana. He had been ordered to bring her food and drink, but was under strict instructions on pain of punishment to not allow the squire to leave the room. The chubby boy announced that her food was brought and that he would be pushing her meal in.

"Hey, Rutger?", asked Mordred as an idea came to her. She got off her bed and strode across the room to the door.

"I am here.", answered the page somewhat nervously. He and the others were still scared of Mordred ever since that time Sir Bertilak put them up to taunting his squire.

"I have a request for you, if it pleases you."

Rutger raised an eyebrow at the uncharacteristically polite tone Mordred was using. He was feeling nervous the way one felt around a dog that had a tendency to bark angrily or even bite, but was still otherwise kept around due to its prowess at sentry-duty for livestock. He still remembered the horror he and the others felt when Mordred came after them. In his mind he had not seen the slight and young squire, but a ferocious and angry dragon.

"I'm… I'm only supposed to bring you your supper. Could you move from the door so I can give it to you?"

"Oh don't be so frightened," said Mordred in her sweetest voice, "I only have a request that you answer one question for me. I'm afraid for my mother you see, so I can't sleep nor eat until I know she is safe."

The page frowned slightly at the tone of voice Mordred used. If he didn't know any better, he could swear that the voice was almost distinctly like a girl's instead of a boy. But there was something persuasive in the way Mordred spoke, like it would cause grievous hurt and pain if it were ignored. What harm could be there be in answering a question like that? Still, he hesitated due to his fear of displeasing orders that came from the king himself.

"I was told that Sir Bertilak would rescue my mother from the Brown Knight Without Pity.", said Mordred, her voice now sounding very sorrowful, "But the letter sent to the king says that my mother will die within three days' time if his ransom isn't met."

"I'm… I'm sorry to hear that.", mumbled Rutger as he set the iron plate, iron pitcher, and utensils down on the ground, "But I'm afraid I don't know anything about that."

"Then can you tell me this one thing?", asked Mordred as she still spoke politely, but was now growing increasingly irritated at the page boy's dithering, almost grinding her teeth and opening and closing a fist behind the door. Just a little more patience was needed, but Mordred was almost losing it as she pressed him, "Has Sir Bertilak left to save my mother as His Majesty decreed?"

At this, Rutger breathed a sigh of his own. This was something he could at least say without getting into trouble. Surely there was no harm in telling Mordred this one thing if reassured him that his mother would be rescued?

"Yes.", he finally said, "Sir Bertilak left just after sunset. He rode in full armor and with that great axe of his. He didn't tell anybody where he was going, but if your mother was in danger and the king ordered it, then that surely must be what he is doing now."

He waited for the gratitude that was due to him, but all that he heard through the thick wooden door was silence.

"Mordred…?"

He called the squire's name a few more times before he felt irritated and started to walk away, leaving the food and pitcher of water outside the door. He was perfectly willing to just let the squire go hungry for trampling on his generosity at great peril to himself when he paused as he almost rounded the corner.

He hesitated again and looked back at the passage with the food and water left outside the squire's door. What if he reported his failure to the next person who came by? A guard, a maid, or somebody else who would almost certainly question why food and drink was left outside the squire's door? Mordred would hear of it and inform on him, getting him into trouble. King Mark might even have word reached back to him or Sir Bertilak might find out when he got back from his quest.

In the end, it was fear of getting caught doing the wrong thing that made Rutger the Page turn back and call out to Mordred as he stood outside her room, "I'm bringing in your supper!"

So he inserted the key into the lock, turned and opened it ajar.

Suddenly he felt as if his stomach was struck by a bull as he was knocked back off his feet and into the wall. The pain was so bad that he almost felt he had been gored and he gasped, choked, and spluttered as he held his chest. It was pain just breathing and he scarecely heard the words of apology from Mordred as the squire ran. Rutger could barely breathe, but when he finally could draw in enough oxygen, he began to scream and wail with all his strength.

/~/

Adrenaline was coursing through Mordred and she felt lighter than air as she escaped her room and ran as fast as she could to the stables. She didn't stop to think at all of the consequences of what she had just done, just that she had to get out of Tintagel Castle as soon as she could. She was breaking a direct command from King Mark, but Mordred was grinning madly in a mix of fear, excitement, and the rush of deliberately rebelling against the king. She would worry about the consequences later, but she still felt a little bad for kicking Rutger to get him out of her way.

Her hooded cloak that she had worn at Camelot flapped about her as she sprinted faster than she ever had before for the stables with breath coming in short and hard puffs. But just as she exited the main part of the castle, she heard Rutger's screaming and she readjusted her knapsack before throwing on her hood. A sentry heard the scream and Mordred pointed back in the direction she came, "That way! I heard the attack that way!"

The sentry was too distracted by the awful caterwauling that he didn't pause to check more carefully who was telling him this and ran off in the direction with his spear at the ready. Mordred ran off again to the stables as more guards began to swarm over to the direction of the screaming. It was dark out with a full moon shining over Tintagel Castle, so the squire was easily able to find the stables and flung open the door. A stableman was inside and he was surprised by the sudden entrance of Mordred. It was an older boy who demanded to know what Mordred was doing and that nobody was supposed to be the stables this late. The squire sharply told him to be silent as she went over to Moon.

Her mare stamped and snorted as it sensed Mordred's distress, but the squire was in a hurry and she tried to speak soothingly to her when the stableman yanked Mordred away from her. Anger flooded into the squire and she tore from his grasp and flung open Moon's stall. Once more the stableman tried to grab her, but Mordred reached into the slit in her pocket and pulled out the fork she took from her intended dinner and stabbed the stableman in his leg.

The young man began to scream as he collapsed, holding his injured limb while Mordred rapidly tried to fit her saddle onto Moon. But the screaming attracted the attention of the guards and the squire saw three of them rushing over to the stables with shouts. There was no choice left to her and so Mordred dropped the saddle and simply mounted on Moon, grabbing her mare by the mane and yelled, "FLY MOON, FLY!"

The mare whinnied loudly, frightened by the sounds and charged out the stables, almost trampling the still screaming stableman and bowling over the guards who were too shocked to stop her. Mordred tried to steer Moon in the direction of the gates as shouts began to follow her to halt. But the squire ignored the shouts and urged her mare on as peasants tried to throw themselves out of the way of the mare's charge. Her hooves thundered as her rider finally steered her into the direction of the gates where more sentries were posted with spears at the ready. There was nothing else for it, but to press on and Mordred urged Moon on to the gates. Shouts and commands were bellowed for her to stop, but the squire pressed on anyway.

Finally, one of the sentries broke away to lower the gate and halt her passage, but Mordred still pushed Moon on and the sentries banded close to try to have Moon run herself through the spears. But at the last second, with a loud cry of her own, Mordred pulled back on Moon's reins and had her veer sharply away from the spears. One still managed to run a long and jagged cut onto her flank, producing a scream from the horse. Moon reared up and kicked the offending sentry in the armored part of his head, knocking him into the others. Blood ran down her side as Mordred pulled onto her mane and had her put on one more burst of speed as the gate came crashing down.

Moon's tail felt the brush of the gate as it slammed down as she and her rider barely made it through. But the ordeal wasn't over yet, for more shouts came from the ramparts and walls of Tintagle Castle. Mordred's looked up to see torches waving frantically and bowmen began to line up on the wall. The squire pleaded for Moon to not pause, kicking her heels in and driving her mare even harder as arrows began to fly after them. Though she wasn't aware of it at the time, Mordred would later learn that the guards were simply doing their duty. Plus, with her wearing a cloak and her hood up, none of the guards recognized her. But that was not in her mind at the moment as arrows flew around her and Moon or clattered on the stone bridge behind her.

From behind that postern gate, guards were screaming at get the gate open and catch the escaping fugitive they assumed was a prisoner, but Moon continued to gallop as her rider pushed her harder to escape. Mordred's heart ached for her beloved mare, but she stifled the emotions she felt in order to get away. On and on they ran away from the castle until the mare finally slowed from a run to a canter and finally to a trot. Moon's breath came out in heavy fog in the cool night air as sweat and blood poured down her flanks. Mordred looked behind herself to see that they had run almost in a straight path that led away from King Mark's castle along the coast.

Her own breaths came out in fog as she panted from the intense riding she did and she looked around to try to find where they were. The path was overlooking the great sea and the moon reflected pale-silver over the water. So far the garrison had not sent out riders after her, probably still trying to get themselves together and figure out what happened. By this point, King Mark would have found out that Mordred not only broke out of her room, but had waylaid three different people in her bid to escape. However, now that she was out and had cocked-up good and proper, all that was left to her was to keep going.

/~/

Moon however could not go faster than a trot due to the gash she received from the spear and Mordred finally felt the pangs of guilt at her friend's distress. The mare's gentle brown eyes glanced back at her sorrowfully, as if she had been betrayed. The sadness crept into Morded as she hugged her long neck and could only apologize over and over. She stroked Moon's neck and actually got off the mare so she could tend to her. But Mordred had only a skin of water in her knapsack that she kept in case she was called out to patrol with the Green Knight, some apples she had stashed away, and a spare change of clothes. She had no weapons and no means to protect herself. If she got caught, she would be taken back to the castle and punished. Even if Sir Bertilak succeeded in saving her mother, she would surely lose his sponsorship.

But then Mordred remembered how King Mark and the Green Knight both forbade her so harshly from saving her mother that the guilt she felt for disobedience turned into feelings of defiance. So what if King Mark was angry? So what if Big Green was mad at her for defying him? It was their fault for forbidding her and not trusting she could fight! It was their fault that they pushed her to this! It was their fault that Moon was hurt!

She frowned and took Moon's head in her hands and she said, "I'll make them pay. The Brown Knight, the Green Knight, the Cuckold King… I'll make them pay for hurting you! We'll show them. Once we save Mother, we'll prove that they were wrong!"

Mordred then moved over to inspect the wound in Moon's side and she took off her knapsack to get the water and rags. She soaked the rags in her water and began to dab at the wound, causing Moon to whinny and stamp her hooves, but Mordred spoke soothingly to her and continued to dab at the bloody wound. Her mother had taught her how to use poultice and herbs to clean cuts and wounds, but near the coast the plants she needed weren't available as she looked around. But in the distance, some miles away she saw a forest. It was not Kelly Rounds, but the squire wanted to tend to her mare. With no bridle or reins, she had Moon lower down so she could get back up on the mare.

With a hop, she got back onto Moon and she steered the mare into the direction of the forest. Even though she still wasn't sure of where at the moment, the squire reasoned that once Moon was healed up enough, she could go to one of the surrounding villages and ask for directions. But as she and Moon left the path and exhaustion began to get its grip into the pair, Mordred's mind wandered and wondered. The forest was slowly getting closer and closer, but it seemed to be so far away still as they made their way across the green fields, illuminated by the full moon.

Why had nobody come after her yet? Why hadn't King Mark sent his sentries after her and why hadn't she been-

As Mordred's mind wandered, she glanced without meaning to the direction she fled from Tintagle Castle and thought she saw something moving. It was dark shapes with a light bobbing up and down and then the sense of danger screamed into Mordred. Moon sensed her rider's distress, but before the squire could kick her heels, scream at the mare to flee, arrows began to rain in their direction. Mordred flattened herself just as an arrow whistled past her head. If she had been seated upright, the lucky arrow would have taken her in the neck. Despite the pain and exhaustion, Moon began another hard gallop in the direction of the forest.

Shouts followed dimly after them and Mordred glanced back to see that the riders chasing after her and her injured mare were men from Tintagel Castle by their tabards and heraldry. Despite the head-start and gap in distance, they were rapidly closing in on them and it wouldn't be long before either were struck by arrows.

Mordred gritted her teeth and urged desperately, "Fly Moon, fly! We're almost there! Please, just hang in there! We'll make it! Please don't give up!"

To her credit, Moon did not give up trying to save her rider until the very end. The pair had a bond from long months of care and despite being awakened in the night and forced to run faster and harder than ever before even amidst injury, the mare was loyal to the child even to the end. The forest was within running distance and relief flooded the squire as the got near the edge when Moon screamed in pain again as arrows took her in the rump. She slid and stumbled to the ground, throwing Mordred clear off her. Mordred's world spun as she landed hard on the grass, tumbling over and over until she came to a stop. Arrows continued to fly after her, but despite her being almost overcome with dizziness and something wet streaming down her head, she was mostly unhurt by this and went over to the mare instinctively.

"MOOOOOOOON!", she screamed as she ignored the arrows falling around her and she tried to pick her fallen mare up, hot tears running down her cheeks as she struggled to get the mare up. She looked over her fallen mare and saw more arrows begin to descend upon her. But then her vision was blocked as the mare in one last burst of strength pushed herself up and let out one final whinny as the arrows took her in the barrel of her body.

One, two, three, four, five arrows struck her side and Mordred screamed in agony for her. Rage filled the squire, so raw and visceral she almost saw red, but before she could recklessly charge out from her friend, she caught the mare's eyes one last time. Those brown eyes so gentle and sad, reflecting the squire's furious and agonized countenance.

That pause was the saving grace that broke through the rage of pain and loss and Mordred knew she couldn't afford to stay. If she was caught now, Moon's sacrifice and all this pain would have been for nothing, so with a broken heart and final scream of rage, Mordred turned and fled into the forest as more arrows came flying after her.

/~/

On and on she ran down the dirt path as the hooves of her pursuers came following after her, the burst of mana fueling her speed as the thought of escape filled her mind. The path turned to the left side as she saw that the opposite side descended into a steep valley. Her breath came out in ragged gasps and without thinking any further she leapt down, leaves, dirt, and rocks scrapping her as she slid down into darkness before she finally hit the bottom and into a thick bush.

Thorns and leaves poked and jabbed at her, but she dared not move as her pursuers finally caught up to the split in the path. She could scarcely hear their voices, but the lamp light they carried shone over her hiding place. Her heart stopped as she saw them through the branches of the bush, even making eye contact with one of them as they looked straight at her.

This was it, she thought as they saw eye-to-eye, her escape was in vain and all that she had done in the spur of the moment was for nothing. But as her heartbeats counted the seconds passing, the rider's attention was pulled away by his fellows who told them that there was no point looking this late at night. That they were too few and without a horse, it would only be a matter of time before their quarry either surrendered or starved to death.

So with that, the horsemen turned and went back the way they came. But when the light from their lamps faded away, Mordred soon found herself in almost complete darkness. The full moon scarcely gave off any light and it was almost a full five minutes before Mordred was sure that her pursuers were gone.

She grunted and twisted, pushing and pulling, letting out short gasps of at the poke of the thorns before she managed to extricate herself from the bush. Her cloak was tattered and shredded from the bush, sticks sticking to her hair, and her knapsack had many holes in it, barely hanging on by a single strap. Mordred squinted her eyes hard as she looked around, surrounded by a steep hill on one side, a maze of tree's on the other, with her front and rear barely visible. In fact, it looked as if she had fallen into a dry riverbed. What's more, she was starting to finally feel cold as her breath still came out in a fog.

The loss of Moon brought her to her hands and knees in sorrow and she wept for her friend, unable to smother the feelings of guilt and shame for forcing her to flee with Tintagel Castle. Amidst the silent forest her sobs, as quiet as they were, still were loud to her ears. Her weeping was soon replaced again by the anger she felt to Moon's murderers. She would remember her pursuers and if she ever saw the men who did this, Mordred would avenge her mare. Anger cleared her of her sorrow and helped her refocus herself.

Mother was still in danger and she still needed to rescue her. Everything else would come afterwards. Thankfully she remembered how her master taught her to make a fire due to the times they would go out patrolling for days and nights to get her accustomed to it. Fire was what she needed now, to keep away the cold. Having a goal helped keep her occupied and not allow her to think about anything else.

Find a safe place to hide.

Gather materials.

Light a fire.

The squire shouldered her knapsack again and began to move downstream of the dry river, the moonlight illuminating her path when all else was almost pitch black. Further and further down she walked until she spotted something almost completely hidden by bushes.

A cave! It was a large cavern that lead into the hillside with trees covering the topmost part and bushes blocking he front. But it was still wide and tall enough for even Sir Bertilak to walk easily through. Here was a place where she could stop and hide before lighting a fire. But as she scampered over the rocks, her mind already fixated on the thought of sleeping in shelter, she didn't stop to think just why bushes were covering a cave. Nor did she stop to wonder just how easily they moved aside, for the bushes didn't grow in that spot naturally. It was only when she heard the chiming of bells as the bushes were shoved aside that the squire finally took pause.

A sharp pain suddenly slammed her in the back with such force that she was suddenly thrown forward and into the cave almost flat onto her face. Shock filled her as she tried to rise, but she found her limbs wouldn't obey her. She tried to speak, but her lips and tongue felt swollen and whatever struck her was paralyzing her as if she had been stabbed and pinned down. Her vision darkened and the shock from the sudden strike in her back caused her to start to lose her hearing. Mordred still tried to rise, but her body stopped obeying her and it felt as if she was burning and freezing at the same time. Suddenly it looked like the sun had risen amidst her foggy vision, then muffled voices began to suddenly speak excitedly.

Then she was yanked up and jerked about, but Mordred felt completely numb and hardly felt the object being pulled out of her as she was turned over. There were… people over her… but Mordred couldn't make out their faces at all. The voices began to speak even more anxiously than before followed by what could have been furious shouting. But all this passed over Mordred as she felt herself slipping away. She couldn't even muster the strength to feel despair at failing her quest, at failing her Mother.

"King… Arthur… Save me… Arr…thuurrr…", she mumbled hoarsely.

The burning and freezing continued to flood the squire and before she finally passed out, the last thing Mordred saw amidst the sun in her vision was the face of a boy… with green clothes.

Immortal: Ahhh... I am so glad that I got this chapter out before October was ended here! So I already have the next chapter being written, but what was supposed to be a single chapter ended up being much longer than I thought and I felt it would be better to break it into a two-parter. So if all goes well, I will be able to bring the next chapter sooner than expected, and reviews will help me push the next chapter to all those who have favorited and followed this story.

Oh and by the by... if you feel so inclined to read T.H. White's "The Once and Future King", you will know that a certain other legendary figure helped young Arthur and Kay in their earliest adventures, who made their appearance in this chapter as well. They will be expanded upon in the next chapter and play a vital role in Mordred the Squire's early adventures.