Author: Triane
Disclaimer: Not. Mine. Except Iona. Everything else belongs to someone else.
Summary: Dagonet reaches the Wall.
Arthur and the rest of the knights were training in the practice yard early the next morning when they heard a commotion at the gate; people shouting and horses whinnying. Seconds later they heard Dagonet swearing in Sarmatian at the top of his lungs as he ran through the stable towards the yard.
"Artorius!" The men immediately stopped what they were doing and looked towards the stable door, watching as Dagonet appeared, his eyes wild. Arthur strode towards him, meeting him at the entrance of the field.
"Arthur, they have Iona. They have my wife." Without waiting for instructions from Arthur, the other men ran to their armour and weapons, wordlessly strapping on all the gear they could carry and running to their horses. Arthur grabbed Dagonet's shoulder to get his attention, as the giant was about to rush back into the stable.
"Who, Dagonet? Who has her?" Dagonet forced himself to concentrate on his commander, locking his gaze on Arthur's grey eyes.
"Saxons. To the south. She told me to come back for you. I left her, Arthur, with a hundred savage men." Arthur nodded wordlessly and followed Dagonet into the stable, past where Jols was caring for Agravain and Ardin who looked as though they had been ridden into the ground. The stable was a hum of frantic activity as the men readied their horses, loading their weapons for a fast trip. Arthur sent word to Vanora, who immediately sent down travel rations for several days, which the men put into their packs grudgingly, as if having the necessary food meant they couldn't take more weapons.
Dagonet saddled one of the spare horses and swung aboard, his eyes fierce as he waiting impatiently for the others, checking and rechecking that he had transferred all his weaponry over to the new mount. The horse sensed his frustration and panic, rearing and crow-hopping under its anxious rider. Finally, after what seemed like days, Dagonet led the charge out of the gate towards the south, every heartbeat flying on ahead towards the woman who owned his heart.