Reclaiming England. (Nano Novel 2016)

Chapter Twenty-Two: Escape

       

The captured knights were freed, just as the maiden had said. Arthur wasstill unsure about the wisdom of his plan, but it seemed to be the only way toescape alive.

  So, it wasn't long before he was standing on his horse, facing his opponent. They charged at each other, Arthur knocked him of.

   He pushed himself off his horse, landing on the ground and drawing Excalibur – at least, he thought it was his sword. Unknown to him, Morgan le Fay had switched swords, and now his opponent carried Arthur's, as well as the sheath.

   When he had first gained the sword, Merlin had told him the scabbard was the more valued of the two. While wearing, the barer could never be wounded. Arthur was confident of his win – but he didn't know his enemy now carried his scabbard.

   He noticed it almost as once, as he was the better fighting. His blade didn't cut into the other man's arm, and he was suddenly afraid.

   He darted back, raising his sword to his eyes, and realized what had happened. Cursing, he quickly ran through his options. He had to get his sword back.

   Moving forward, he lunged down, but at the last minute spun his arm, slamming it into his enemy's arm. The man grunted, but did nothing, spinning his sword to lung at Arthur.

   They continued fencing back and forth for a long time, neither gaining the upper hand. Arthur knew he had to finish it soon though.

   But finally, he was knocked backwards. He landed heavily, winded as his opponent advance.

   The sword tip hovering over his throat, Arthur knew that Merlin wouldn't be there to save him this time. So he kicked up, his food connecting with his enemy's hand and the sword sailing through the air.

  Arthur moved quickly, lunging for the sword, and suddenly the tables were turned. He pulled the defeated man's helm off, wanting to see who he was. To his surprise, the man under him was Sir Accolon, the knight he had been travelling with before.

   He stepped back, pulling his own helm off as he did.

   "Sire!" the knight said, scrambling to his knees. Arthur shook his head, holding out a hand to lift him to his feet.

   "This is no fault of yours," he said. "This is Morgan le Fay's doing." He sighed, wondering if he would ever be free of his sister's evil.

  Maria collapsed just as she wretched free from her captor's grasp. She landed on the grass, the gunshot wringing in her ears. She was aware of someone screaming, but she wasn't sure if it was her or Katrina. Right now she didn't care.

   A body lay in front of her, and it seemed to be spinning. Who was it? Maria didn't know. Surely not Lance.

  She was vaguely aware of someone giving orders, and hands pulling her up. She didn't even feel the pain in her head, the stinging from bruises all over her body. She didn't feel anything. She was numb.

She didn't remember the trip back to their room. She didn't remember anything after the gunshot. Lance. Dear, loveable innocent Lance. He was gone, gone forever.

   She felt a lump in her throat, and she collapsed onto the floor of the room. She was vaguely aware of Callum and Arthur in the room – but not Lance.

  The lump grew bigger, threatening to chock her. She tried to breath, but a loud sob came out instead.

   She didn't even try to hold back the tears, didn't even try to keep them in. She hadn't let them flow for a long, long time. But now she couldn't stop them.