Dear readers this is the last of the Wartime Tales. So far we've followed Elyan and his struggle between the conflicting duties to kin and country. We've met Hafreen and seen the war through the eyes of a girl on the cusp of womanhood. Revisted Janet, one of the bracelet victims and have seen how both Morgana's occupation of Camelot as well as Uther's war on magic affected her life and the life of her family. Now finaly we come to Sir Gwaine, knight of Camelot, through Gwaine we will see how Morgana's war and her previous other actions have affected the lives of the children of Camelot.

Previously in The Exile

"She looked- she had so many bruises old and new. I was no longer confused. I insisted that she live with us, my husband looked unhappy, but didn't argue. My change of heart came much too late though. 'Cita was so changed. She cried all the time, had nightmares and by god she was afraid everything. Eventually she confided to me that bandits had taken her sometime during the fall and kept her for the course of the winter. I also found out," she paused a strange and bitter smile on her face "I found out that when she would disappear for those two or three days at a time she was lying with some of the men from this very village, married ones. They gave her food and shelter in exchange for sex, the hypocrites! "

"Some men have no sense of honor about them," Gwaine muttered.

Gwaine after hearing Tilda's story in Chapter 8

Arthur leaned forward and Gwaine knew he had the king's undivided attention.

"I refused at first, but their want for a child weighed on them and eventually I gave in. It took a while, months actually and she was sweet, kind, and pretty. Of course I came to love her, but she did not bear the same love for me."

Sir Gwaine to King Arthur in Chapter 11

The place looked to have been abandoned for perhaps two weeks.

"What will you do Sir Elyan? You could take the advanced party into Camelot. It could make all the difference?" Lord Constans looked at him waiting.

Elyan stared back at the other man feeling as if he had somehow stumbled into a trap.

Lord Constans to Sir Elyan in Chapter 20

"Look at him Gwaine. He's perfect," Adras said.

His first memory of his son was the grip of tiny pink fingers, the length of his fingernail, holding firm to hisindex finger. He'd waited awkwardly in the hall after everything had grown quiet, curious and eager, but uncertain of his place. After all, the child wasn't for him. Esobal would be Adras and Isobelle's son, a child of Isobelle's body and as much of Adras as he could be.

Once Isobelle and the boy were comfortably settled, Adras had come to him, brought him into the hallowed halls of the lying-in room.

"Look at him Gwaine. He's perfect," his sister had smiled and handed him the little bundle. The boy's pale face had still been quite red, his infant-blue eyes blinking, and he'd been breathing those fast shallow breaths that infants breathed. Somehow the baby had smelled sweet; he had not known that babies actually smelled sweet.

He'd taken the boy, then unnamed, amazed that the length of his hand was half the length of the infant's body and stroked his tiny face. He hadn't known what he expected; Gwaine had no experience that he could recall with babies. The little one had reached out and gripped his finger then and he'd felt a smile bloom on his face.

"He'll be a fine swordsman with that grip." He'd looked up at Adras and Isobelle and saw that they were smiling as well. All the awkwardness seemed to evaporate then and for a moment they were three proud parents.

Eight days later Isobelle was dead.

Ten days later she had been buried.

The boy was called Esobal after his mother.

Eleven days later Gwaine held Esobal and looked into his eyes. They remained blue, but a summer sky blue that he had, Gwaine was certain, inherited from his mother. He'd left Wyeledon that day. He'd thought often on Esobal's grip and his sky blue eyes over the next eight months, treasured them until he'd seen the child again.

"Don't try Gwaine, and he'll come to you."

Adras showed her growing skill as a mother with those words. Less than half an hour later Esboal had crawled away from the game he had been playing with Ambry to tug on Gwaine's pant leg. Gwaine had looked down and been struck by the idea that he was looking into a miniature of his face with Isobelle's eyes.

Over the next few years he had reflected on that. With each visit he saw more and more of himself in Esobal. It seemed an injustice somehow that Esobal should reflect so little of the woman who had purchased his life with her death, in his look and manner. But there was no unraveling the mysteries of life or God.

"You're a knight!"

He made a trip to Wyeledon just before Morgana tore the veil and unleashed the dorocha upon them. Lancelot had come with him on that visit, keeping the secret of Gwaine's son from the others. Lancelot was good at keeping secrets. None of them suspected that he'd harbored any feelings for Guinevere.

"You're a knight of Camelot!"

Esobal had grinned and his eyes sparkled. He'd asked questions about everything, their cloaks, their mail, their armor, their swords, and even Morgana. He wanted to know everything about his Uncle Gwaine, knight of Camelot.

"They say the knights of Camelot are the best." Those summer sky eyes, Esobal's eyes had shown with a pride Isobelle's gaze had never turned on him. Being the receiver of that gaze Gwaine's heart had swelled with an emotion he hadn't known he'd ached for until that moment even as it twisted.

The Fallen Shield, Tale the 4th

Gwaine stared down at two small pale faces, each white as clay. Both shared large dark eyes, each pair widened with equal measures of fright, all other identifying features hidden by the foliage they peered out of. He smiled, their eyes found the golden dragon badge on the cape fastening at his shoulder. The fear went out as recognition crept in.

"Sir Gwaine?"

"Yes."

The child stood then, emerging from the thicket she'd been hiding in revealing a linen cap of dull dark green embroidered with little yellow and blue flowers along its edge and simple dark green surge dress with matching embroidery on its hem. It was a perfect dress for hiding amongst the growing things. She looked perhaps older than Esobal, but not as old as Ambry, Gwaine put her age at eight years.

The knight crouched so that they were eye-to-eye.

"You have me at a disadvantage, young lady. You know my name, but I don't know yours."

The girl smiled.

"I'm Delwyn, this is my brother Gronw, stand-up Gronw."

"Huwyl told us to hide." Gronw's voice was high and soft and Gwaine thought he was perhaps five years-old.

"We don't have to hide from the knights, silly."

"That's right," Gwaine smiled. "You're smart Delwyn. It's a knight's duty to protect Camelot's citizens."

The girl's smile broadened.

"Thank you," she said.

"Whose Huwyl?" Gwaine asked.

"Our older brother, he's thirteen." Delwyn explained.

"Oh."

"He went to make certain it was safe and then we're going to find something to eat."

"Do you have anythin' to eat?" Gronw asked still hiding in the thicket.

"I'm afraid not," Gwaine shook his head. "But I know where there is food."

"Truly?" The boy smiled and straightened up, he was dressed in equally dark and outworn clothing.

"Huwyl!" Delwyn shouted her brother's name and darted across the clearing. She threw her arms around him. Gwaine's mouth twisted into a small, wry smile as he watched the reunion between brother and sister.

"Gronw, come over here, now." Huwyl glared at Gwaine and the boy's eyes widened as if he were in trouble.

Huwyl was a slightly taller version of the smaller children perhaps a bit short for thirteen. His dirt smudged face bore faint fuzzing of hair above his lip. Gronw went to his brother's side and Huwyl's dark gaze turned defiant.

"You must be Huwyl." Gwaine said getting to his feet.

The boy turned his back on Gwaine and bent down to address his siblings.

"I told you two to hide and not talk to strangers."

"But Sir Gwaine isn't a stranger, he's a knight," Delwyn said.

"Even worse!" Huwyl cast a defiant glare over his shoulder before turning his attention back to his siblings. "We can do better on our own."

"Can you?" Gwaine asked. He couldn't let three children go off alone.

Huwyl rose and faced him then.

"Yes we can." The boy met his eyes and raised his chin in defiance.

"You-" Gwaine took a deep breath and stopped. He'd been about to shout at the boy, tell him that he couldn't, that it wasn't possible. But he couldn't do that. He wanted the children to come with him of their own accord, if only for the little one's sake.

No one knew where Arthur and Merlin had gone on their mysterious quest. It would not be long before Morgana's men infested the woods in search of him. While there might be no good reason for them to harass three children, Gwaine knew better than to think that they wouldn't. Huwyl was just the right age for the infantry and there were those who saw children –smaller and weaker- not as people to respect or protect, but as targets subject to their wills.

"No Huwyl, you can't. We've stores of food, supplies, laid in at Castle Gogwyn, and it is a strong shelter, only a day's march from here. You'll have all the food you need, a roof over your head, and the protection of the knights."

The boy glared on the last word and Gwaine silently cursed himself.

"We don't need the knight's help." Huwyl turned back towards his siblings. "We're going."

"But I want to go with sir Gwaine," Delwyn said in a loud whisper, "he's a knight."

"Me too," Gronw said. Delwyn started forward and Huwyl, his hand still on her shoulder jerked her backwards. The girl shrieked even as Gwaine started forward.

"Hey now, don't treat your little sister like that."

"These are my sister and brother and we're not going with you!" Huwyl turned his attention back to his siblings. "You can't trust the knights remember." Huwyl said and his tone softened. "I'm sorry I pulled on your arm Delwyn."

"It's okay." Delwyn gave Gwaine a look filled with sad regret and took her brother's hand, such a grown up expression on a child's face.

"Bye Sir Gwaine," Gronw said as the group of siblings turned away.

"You can take them away off into the woods and you can keep them from whoever you like. You're their brother, they will listen to you. You can try to keep them safe, but you can't do it on your own," Gwaine spoke to Huwyl remembering what it was like for him. "What if something happens to you? What if you run into soldiers?"

"We'll manage." Huwyl said with all the confidence untested youth.

"Will you? How will you manage when you can't find enough food for all three of you? When one of them is sick? When both of them are sick?" He took a breath and felt a trembling in his voice on his next words. "When you're wet and chilled from the rain and you haven't eaten in three days, and Gronw is sick with fever and Delwyn is starving? How will you manage then?"

Huwyl faced him then and he could see doubt and fear flash in the youth's eyes. Gwaine got the sense then that if he said the wrong thing the child would turn away from him.

"Huwyl I don't know why you don't trust the knights of Camelot, but I'm giving you my wordto see you to safety. If you don't like Castle Gogwyn no one will try to make you stay."

"Your word?" Huwyl's dark eyes met his and Gwaine knew he had reached the boy.

"My word of honor." Gwaine said it with all the solemnity that he could muster.

"And we can leave anytime we want?"

"Anytime," he confirmed with a nod.

Huwyl held his eyes a moment longer.

"Fine."

The younger children cheered and Gwaine felt a vague stirring of concern. He didn't know how Camelot or its knights had disappointed them in the past, but he knew he couldn't add another bad memory to the pile.

Of course a day's march with two small children and a sullen adolescent was a very different thing from a day's march with the knights of Camelot. By noon they'd only covered half the ground the knights would have covered. Gronw and Delwyn complained of being hungry so much so that they made their first stop well before noon to gather berries to fill their little bellies. They found blackberries, blueberries, and gooseberries, enough to halt their complaining, but not their chattering mouths. They gave commentary on everything they passed and shared information that was news to them as if it would impress the whole world. Gwaine had forgotten how annoying children could be when they didn't have some game or chore to occupy them.

By the time lunch hour came though they were complaining of their hunger again, looking up at him, taking hold of his hand and asking for food in soft high pitched voices. At last Gwaine halted them near a stream. Huwyl dug up some roots to clean and roast for them while Gwaine tested his speed against the fish and failed.

He was not happy being outside of Camelot, but the king had orders about what was to happen if Camelot fell into Morgana's hands. They were not to allow themselves to be taken. As Morgana's prisoners they represented an unacceptable danger to the people. If the city could not be held, they were to retreat and regroup at the Castle Gogwyn or die in the people's defense. Since the invaders had not been pillaging or harming the citizens Gwaine felt his best choice had been a retreat. He didn't like it, but the king's orders were to be followed. More desperate plans had been made, but there had been no time to enact them. Gwaine didn't know if that was a curse or a blessing.

"This Merlin and Arthur have made some impression on you."

Adras rocked backwards in her chair, casual posture at odds with her formal attire.

"Merlin is a good friend- and I," he considered his words a moment, "I respect Prince Arthur."

"Well, I am taken aback that of all the royals in Britannia, you would consider serving the son of The Great Hypocrite."

Gwaine chuckled.

"If I didn't know the stories, I'd think the apple hadn't fallen from that tree at all."

"Oh-hoo!" Adras dark eyes widened and Gwaine shrugged.

"So if Arthur offers you service when he is king, you will take it?"

"You know me; I don't like to stay in one place for too long." He'd sipped his wine.

"Yes, yes I do." She sounded annoyed and Gwaine frowned as he realized his mistake. Adras had never fully forgiven him for leaving after Isobelle's death.

"Adras-"

"It no longer troubles me Gwaine. You are who you are. Isobelle and I asked for your help conceiving a child, nothing else." She looked at him as if daring him to challenge her. "The maid is taking too long. I am going to get us some more wine," She said when he remained silent.

He'd sat there, regretting his words until she'd returned wine uncorked.

"Is it me?" She'd asked as she filled their goblets. "Do I put you in mind of mom? I know Esobal makes you feel guilty about Isobelle, even though she was my wife."

He flinched inside, but somehow held his peace.

"But that's not it. You were never good at being around, even before Isobelle died. Even when I was paying you to guard my caravans you weren't around, you were moving with them."

She handed him his goblet and resumed her seat.

"Adras, my sister, my heart, you know how deeply I love you."

"Do not mistake me dear brother. It is not your heart I challenge, but your fickleness."

"I-I don't know," he replied unwilling to probe the recesses of his heart.

"Well," she said at last. "Esobal is fine with his Uncle Gwaine." Adras took a sip of her wine.

She'd meant it to hurt and it did, but he did not complain of it. She'd practically begged him to stay after Isobelle had died, but he couldn't. Guilt, grief and jealousy had been his reasons for leaving then, but she was right he always found reasons to leave.

Huwyl set the turnips he'd dug up to roast. As they cooked Gwaine set about sharpening a good strong branch into a spear for fishing. With the little ones along the march would be at least two days. He didn't think the children could make do with berries and roots. When the neeps* were done Huwyl offered the larger share to him, but Gwaine refused. He wouldn't suffer for a few skipped meals and his aim would be that much sharper when he tried his hand at fishing later.

Huwyl had studied him a moment before giving Gwaine's share to his siblings. Delwyn and Gronw gobbled them up as if they were fine fare.

They did not reach the Castle Gogwyn by nightfall, but Gwaine had not expected they would. He halted them early, and headed down to a wide stream in hopes of having better luck spear fishing. The knight speared a large trout on his first try. The children cheered with delight when he returned to their camp, catch held high and even Huwyl looked at him with grudging admiration.

The trout was large enough to feed them full and when the little ones asked for a story Gwaine found himself volunteering.

"I have the perfect story for you. I used to tell it to my younger sister when we were your age."

Delwyn and Gronw grinned at him and Gwaine launched into his tale.

They finished off the trout in the morning and got off to an even slower start than they had yesterday. When Gwaine investigated he discovered that Gronw had a blister on his foot. Not liking the looks of it and knowing that it would only slow the boy down; Gwaine hoisted the child up on his shoulders.

They had been lucky yesterday; he did not expect their luck to hold. Arthur had not been in the city when it fell and that meant Morgana would be sending out patrols. He suspected that only Magistrate Grigor knew where the king had gone and he did not know if he should be worried or grateful. If Morgana became aware of that- and it was only a matter of time before she did, Grigor and his family would be in grave danger.

Gronw told him stories and tugged on his hair as they marched. The stories were the kind that would delight a six year old, but somehow he found them less annoying today. Perhaps it was the child's delight that drew him in. Delwyn kept near to him as well, showing off with flips and cartwheels when they took breaks. Gwaine praised every good thing she did just as he would with Esobal and Ambry. Huwyl only glared at all of them more.

On the second night they camped at the base of the hills. They'd start the climb to Gogwyn Castle in the morning. Gwaine managed to bring down a ptarmigan for their dinner that night and they ate it with watercress and turnip greens.

"Huwyl, where are your parents?"

The boy glared at him and stalked away into the woods. Since it was still early Gwaine let him go, Huwyl knew better than to go too far.

"Our parents were shot." Delwyn said when her brother had gone.

"Oh I-"

"-Morgana did it," Gronw whispered.

"She wanted the knights to swear and they didn't," Delwyn explained.

"I'm sorry about your mom and dad."

"You weren't a knight then, were you?" Gronw crawled into his lap.

"No! Sir Gwaine is a commoner knight, he came after that."

The three of them were silent for a while.

"How have you lived the past year?"

"With our Aunt Anne and Uncle Joseph," Delwyn said.

"Uncle Joe said Aunt Anne was a whore like 'Wenevere and all women were evil," Gronw reported and Gwaine frowned.

"That's not a very nice thing to say."

"That's what Uncle Joe says," Delwyn insisted.

"Uncle Joe is mean," Gronw said.

"Listen Gwen is my friend and she and your Aunt Anne made a mistake. Perhaps they should be forgiven."

The two children stared at him.

"You children know the holy man Jesus?"

They nodded.

"Well one day he was at the temple and a group of Pharisees came to him with a test as they often did. They brought a woman, a prostitute they said, who had been caught in the act of adultery, but they did not bring the man." Gwaine thought of Gwen and *Tilda's sister, for a moment. "Anyway they presented the woman-"

"What does presented mean?" Gronw asked.

"Sorry," Gwaine said. "They 'um- told Jesus of her crime and asked him what should be done. Jesus, being much wiser and cleverer than they, gave back a challenge of his own. He said to the Pharisees let he who is without sin cast the first stone and then he bowed his head. When he raised it again the Pharisees had gone and only the woman remained. She explained that all who would have condemned her had gone. Jesus told the woman that he did not condemn her either and to go and sin no more.

Now has your Uncle Joe ever sinned?"

"He swears!" Delwyn said and Gronw giggled.

"And do the two of you always do everything just right?"

They shook their heads.

"Gronw spilled his porridge!" Delwyn pointed at her brother.

"You told a fib 'bout who ate the 'serves!" The boy stuck his tongue out at her.

"And now you're both throwing stones at each other."

The two children gasped and shut their mouths.

"We all do things wrong and we get forgiven, just like the woman in the story."

They nodded.

"So Uncle Joe should forgive Aunt Ann?" Gronw asked.

"Yes, if she is sorry. Do you think she is sorry?" Gwaine smiled.

Gronw nodded.

"She cries a lot and begs Uncle Joe to forgive her over and over," Delwyn sounded very sad now.

"Then yes she too should be forgiven, just like wives always forgive their husbands for their own adultery."

Delwyn's eyes widened.

"You don't think women are bad?" The girl asked.

"No Delwyn, they just make mistakes just as men do. In fact," Gwaine smiled now, "some of the most honorable people I know, are women."

A smile, wide and bright lit her young face then and the sadness he'd glimpsed in her eyes faded. Gwaine sighed inwardly. How hard it must have been to hear her uncle curse her aunt and condemn all women as evil. She yawned, and leaned her dark head on his knee.

"Tell us a story sir Gwaine," Gronw said.

"Very well, what you like to hear?"

"About the orphans," Delwyn replied.

Gwaine took a breath to begin and saw Huwyl had returned camp. The youth stood on the edge of the little clearing they were in watching them with curious eyes.

"Here." Ten year old Gwaine shoved the tiny cloth wrapped bundle into her hands and glanced around at the other children. Some eyed the two of them, hunger evident in their eyes and pinched faces; others turned their thoughts inward, focused on their own misery and pain. Adras unwrapped the little bundle and grinned at the sight of two chicken legs.

Adras denuded the bones of their meat, skin, gristle, and fat, everything in seconds, long, delicate fingers tearing away the flesh at an astonishing rate. When the bones were naked she tested them with her teeth and finding them malleable began to chew, unwilling to lose a morsel of food.

When she'd done Adras wiped greasy fingers on her tunic before looking up at him.

"You didn't eat," she said.

"I couldn't wait," Gwaine replied. "I ate my share on the way home."

Her red brows knitted together in a frown. He watched her hands as she absently tucked a stray curl behind her ear.

"What?" Adras asked catching his eyes on her.

"Nothing."

Another lie. When they'd first come to the city an older boy had suggested Adras learn to lift purses and pick pockets. Her pixie's face would charm the heartless and her nimble fingers would deprive noblemen of their purses before they knew what happened. But the punishment for getting caught stealing was a thief's mark the first time, hand on the chopping block the second time. He couldn't let her take the risk.

His stomach rumbled and she shivered. It was growing colder by the day. How would they live come winter? The thief gang lived well compared to them and it seemed more and more worth the risk. Freeze to death, starve to death, get a thief mark, loose a hand to the cold, loose a hand on the chopping block. The end was always the same.

She shivered again.

"Come here."

She scooted over and tucked her head against his shoulder even as he put an arm around her.

"Tell me again about daddy at the orphanage Gwaine."*

"Of course."

They started into the Gogwyn foothills under a clear, bright, summer sky. The hills rose and fell in gentle slopes, with heavy blanket of green grass and shrubbery and a scattering of trees. Gwaine took the lead and Huwyl tail as they began their climb. The roll of the hills was easy enough that the younger children needed very little help; still Gwaine kept a careful eye on both of them. They topped the first of the hills perhaps two hours after sunrise. They made good time on the second rise, but found themselves breathless and panting on the third. Gwaine called for a halt and Delwyn and Gronw flopped dramatically to the ground.

"You think my Aunt Ann should be forgiven?" Huwyl asked sitting down beside him.

"She said she is sorry," Gwaine replied.

"But what she did-"

"Married men use brothels freely without condemnation and their wives accept it. Your aunt had an affair and it's the greatest treachery, she can be killed for it."

"But-but it's different for men."

"Is it? Why so?" Gwaine challenged the Huwyl now. He knew his opinions were unpopular with other men, but he'd never cared for hypocrisy of any sort.

"It just is!" The boy declared. "She could have had a bastard."

"Did she?"

"No," the boy admitted.

"All right then. Look Huwyl, saying it is all well and good for men to use brothels, but then refusing to forgive your aunt is hypocrisy of the worst kind. Do deny this?"

Gwaine held the boy's eyes daring Huwyl to challenge him. At last the youth looked away.

"Almost time for us to start again." Gwaine got to his feet.

"Just a little longer," Delwyn begged.

"Pleassseee!" Gronw looked at him pleadingly."I'm tired and looking at the clouds is fun."

Huwyl and Gwaine grimaced at each other and Huwyl gave him a deferential nod.

"Just a bit longer and then we're going," Gwaine said.

Both children cheered and laid back down to stare up at the clouds again. Gwaine started to sit and froze. From the top of the third rise you could easily see across the tops of the first and second hills. Gwaine swallowed and waited.

A flash, light, bouncing off metal.

In the next moment they topped the rise and came into view. Gwaine felt a sinking in his stomach. Men, not Camelot's uniformed knights or guards, but with the motely look of Morgana's crew dressed in padded leather and the occasional piece of plate armor.

"Up, up children, Morgana's men are behind us!"

They started down into the valley with far less concern than they'd taken going up, speed now being paramount to all their concerns.

When they started up the fourth rise Gwaine lifted Delwyn to his shoulders and told Huwyl to do the same with Gronw. They made better time to the top of the fourth rise, but looked back to see Morgana's men top the third.

"Hurry now." He set Delwyn on her feet even as Huwyl did the same. The children started down, but Gwaine waited and took count of Morgana's men. There were five men in the patrol; Gwaine swore under his breath and started down slope. He stretched his legs as long as he could and closed the gap between himself and the children in moments.

"Hold," Gwaine slipped off his pack, when they reached the valley floor.

The children stopped and looked at him expectantly.

"I'm not going with you."

Delwyn's eyes widened and Gronw let out a little gasp.

"Why?" Huwyl demanded.

"Morgana's men will be here any moment. We can't outrun them and if the others haven't made it Castle Gogwyn then leading Morgana's men there could turn the safe haven into a trap." Gwaine explained.

"B-but you'll be by yourself," Delwyn complained.

"No buts Delwyn, just keep going. Only one more hill after this and the path curves to the left. I don't think they will follow the three of you further into the hills, but you need to go now."

"But we don't want to leave you Sir Gwaine." Gronw hugged his knee and Gwaine sighed.

"I'm a knight of Camelot and a man of honor Gronw, the shield between you and them. Now let me go so I can give you a proper hug good-bye, hmm?"

"Listen to him," Huwyl said.

Gronw released his leg and took a step backwards. Gwaine crouched and the two youngest threw their arms around his neck, pressing tiny kisses to either side of his face.

"Go with your brother. He'll look after you." Gwaine released them and stood. Gronw and Delwyn took a step backwards.

"Thank you Sir Gwaine," Huwyl said unhappiness plain on his face. He took Huwyl's arms in the clasp exchanged between two men. "God bless you."

"Thank you Huwyl, hurry."

The boy turned and herded his brother and sister up the slope. Gwaine watched them several moments before pulling his cape from his pack. He unfurled the length of scarlet and watched it wave a moment in the after breeze before fastening it to his shoulders with the Pendragon badges. He glanced again at the children and smiled to see that they were half way up the hill, the path already curving. Gwaine watched until the curve of the path took them from his sight. He turned then to face the direction Morgana's men would come from, knowing he didn't have long to wait now.

"Ha, mom, five against one, what kind of chance do you think I have?" He still talked to his mother when he was alone. "But it's a good thing right, protecting the little ones, keeping the enemy from Castle Gogwyn?"

He heard shouts then and looked up to see Morgana's men top the fourth rise. A sick sinking feeling settled, in his stomach. The wind blew again, pushing the puffy white clouds across the sun and stealing away its warmth even as it ruffled Gwaine's hair and snapped his cape. He looked round a moment at the grass rippling and shimmering in the summer breeze, took in the sparse trees and sighed. Gwaine took a deep breath, loosed his sword in its sheath, settled his hand on the hilt, and waited, nothing more than a dot in the valley.

* Neeps- medieval word for turnips

*Since it was asked Gwaine and Elyan were both present when Tilda told her sister's story.