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My shoulder and leg were burning with agony. I gritted my teeth, trying to focus.
“Fucking coward. You’ll die today. As will she.” Draven’s voice was more menacing than any wolf’s.
Draven had reached me. He was holding me upright. His face was filled with concern. I tried to smile, to reassure him, but the pain was bad. So bad. Worse than anything I had felt with Fenyx. How could it be this bad, I wondered?
Something was on the arrowheads, seeping through me. Poison.
Was it the same stuff my sister had put in the food she had given Gawain? Was I turning into a monster like him, even now?
Lorion’s bow was raised to his shoulder, an arrow notched.
“Draven,” I tried to say.
“Don’t worry about it.” His voice was short.
He moved his arm to his side.
A blade whistled through the air.
Before Lorion could even loose his next arrow, the bow was wrenched from his hands. It fell into the trees behind him.
Lorion looked at Draven, a small, tight smile on his face.
Then he raised his arms over his head.
The wolves surged forth.
They ran, not to us, but around us. Foaming and frothing, they raced eagerly towards the camp.
“No,” I moaned, thinking of the children, the families, the elderly. What had we brought down on these innocent people who had lost so much already? “No, Draven, no. We have to stop them.”
My sister was already there, no doubt leaving a trail of blood and destruction in her wake.
I knew what she was doing, what she must be looking for.
The sword. The grail.
And when she found them? What would she do with the people left behind?
The camp would be a ruin of blood and ashes.
Guinevere. Lancelet. Hawl. They were still back in the camp.
“You fucking coward, Lorion,” Draven bellowed. “Shooting her from behind. What kind of a warrior does that? You couldn’t face her on equal ground after what she’d done to your brother, could you? You were too afraid she’d best you. The lot of you, you’re all pathetic.”
He was lowering me to the ground. I knew he had to. There was nothing else he could do.
He met my eyes. “I have to leave you here now, Morgan,” he murmured. “I’ll be back. You know I’ll be right back. Just let me finish this bastard.”
I nodded and tried to look encouraging, but all I really wanted to do was lie in the soft grass and close my eyes, shut out the pain, shut out the screams.
Lorion was saying something to Draven.
“This is not my day to die, Siabra,” I heard him call out. “Honor has nothing to do with it. I perform my duty, nothing more. My father wishes you dead, so here I am to see his will carried out. If it weren’t for you, our sister would have returned home willingly. You’re a disease. A curse, like all your people. Now you and she will die here together. Let this be the end of it.”
And then, spear held high, his wolf raced forward.
Pulling his sword from its sheath, Draven maneuvered away from where I sat in the grass, leading Lorion to the left and further across the empty field.
