The Girl Whose Name Was A Poem

XXII. The Blood Of Britain

And here we are, finally the Great Battle. The fate of this story is defined. It was a very difficult chapter to write. So far the military confrontations in this story were more or less from a distance, since Devnet normally fights with her bow. But now the battle will be face to face, and it's complicated to narrate this actions and feelings when you have not experienced them yourself. I hope that the chapter turns out as vivid, epic and exciting as intended it to(that is, to give you goosebumps) and that you enjoy it.

As always, I ask you to leave your votes and comments, because truly there is nothing more rewarding than your feedback, my dear readers.

Lots of kissed, and enjoy!

Devnet was terrified, there was no sense in denying it. "Fear is a natural thing, we must not be ashamed of feeling it, it is in our survival instinct" her father had explained to her once, many years ago "We cannot consent is that it takes control over our actions".

The gates had opened again and Devnet could hear the Saxon pouring into the valley like a horde of wild beast. Thousands of them. She clutched her bow until her knuckles turned white. Suddenly, she felt the touch of a comforting hand on hear shoulder. Devnet turned to look at Guinevere.

-We can do this-her cousin assured her with a smile-We are warriors-.

Devnet nodded and inhaled deeply, feeling her scent with the air of Britain. The scent of her land. Her home. She would be damned before allowing those Scandinavian brutes to take over her land.

-We are warriors-she repeated, smiling despite her fear. Fear was not her enemy.

-Look-Guinevere nudged her before pointing with her chin towards the distant hills to the south.

Devnet glances in that direction and smiled when she distinguished the tall structures of the catapults commanded by her grand-father. The sight of those massive war machines infused the necessary spirits to overcome her fear. She smirked at her cousin.

-All right, let's send this bastards back to the hell they crawled out from-she affirmed, readying the arrow on her bow.

Just as they had suspected the Saxon's split there army between the two flanks, judging by the sound of footsteps rapidly aproaching in their direction. Guinevere ordered to bring forth oil and fire to light there arrows and set fire the trench that had been previously dug across the valley to separate their enemy.

Many men came forth then, some carrying pot with oil and others with burning torches. They moved along the line of archers, lighting their arrows. The scorching flame sent a hot breath against Devnet face, but to her, that deadly fire was like a beautiful and deadly flower blooming against adversity. Like a piece of the burning sun impaled at the point of her arrow.

-At my order-said Guinevere, then, aiming the bow at the right angle-Wait until they've crossed the trench-.

Devnet looked across the field, and noticed to her left, near the fort cemetery, figures lurked between the smoke. Horsemen. One stepped forward and with a jolt, Devnet recognized Arthur, despite the smoke. The centurion was facing towards the Woads, and without a single word, he suddenly lifted his sword.

Guinevere had seen the gesture to, and apparently that was the signal she'd been waiting for, for she ordered to aim. The idea of Arthur and Guinevere having an understanding between them diverted Devnet. She was more and more certain that those two would end up involved. If they survived, of course.

At Gwen's command, they released their burning arrows. The soared the air like a rain of shooting stars, and struck well and true on their Saxon targets. Their enemy tried to take shelter under their shield wall, unaware that the real purpose of those burning darts. With a deafening roar, the oiled trench immediately caught fire, and a wall of flames higher than any man rose to the skies and extended its reach across the valley. The Saxons cried out in surprise, and those unfortunate enough to be too close to the pitch burned like human torched in between screams.