England

WHEN THE MOON rose into the star speckled sky, I was completely fed up with nature.

It was a relief to get up, to shake feeling into my limbs, to make noise.

"We move in five minutes," I announced, trying to project my voice to the back of our rather large crowd.

Merlin seemed to catch my point, and most likely sent my instructions into the back. I was grateful, and I sent him a smile, before returning to strategizing with my knights.

Arthur joined us for what he claimed to be "tactical advantage," but I knew it was more to be a comforting presence at my back, his hand brushing mine whenever Lancelot brought up a flaw in the plan.

I couldn't even describe the gratitude I held in my heart for the man standing next to me. Butterflies were flying wild, but I needed to act natural, because I couldn't have my knights knowing what I sap I was.

They most likely were already aware, but at this point I didn't care.

"We need to attack from the north," Kay pointed towards a place where the trees grew out a little farther than the other sides of the clearing. 

I nodded, marking the place with a small dash of ink, to make sure we could pass the message on. We would have to travel in a much thinner group than before, and my knights and I decided to call the battalion to the fight after it had been initiated. 

The wind whistled in the wind, twisting in between the trees surrounding us. As we prepared to begin moving towards the fight, we remembered our scouts.

Morgan and Lynette were no doubt half asleep from staying on watch all night, but they were no doubt going to be crucial to our overtaking of our enemies.

Percival took the hint and went to get them, his retreating shadow giving me goosebumps up and down my arms.

I turned to Lancelot, who was standing beside Guinevere, the two of them discussing strategy beyond what I was capable of. The map was dripping in fresh ink as they each made little marks that meant something to them, going over the finer points of the plan.

When Percival returned with the two women I had sent him to find, we were ready to attack; the map was rolled into its case, and Lancelot, Guinevere, Kay, and I had each drawn our weapons. 

Every candle was blown out.

From here, everything we did- every sin we committed- would only be brought to light by the delicate moon rays emitting from the sky.

Lancelot winced when he stepped on a stick, and I nearly jumped out of my skin.

I really needed to teach everyone how to step around sticks, and not on top of them.

When we passed the hut, I released a breath I didn't know I had been holding. It seemed that even though the crossbow was badly aimed, I was still worried about being hit this far away from the intended target.

Morgan and Lynette led the way as they were the last two to have seen the positions of the Saxon army.

It was less of a walk than I had been expecting, especially when I realized how conveniently placed the fire was. The smoke didn't go high enough in the sky for us to be able to spot it from the clearing with the hut, and yet as we drew closer, I couldn't believe I had almost fallen for the trap with the hut.

When we came to the tree line, a sudden flashback overtook me, reminding me of my time as a squire.

The stones wouldn't spark. The fire wouldn't start.

Not until the fifteenth try.

After that, the flames danced. The red and the orange and the yellow had combined, with tints of blue towards the bottom of the fire.

When I thought about it, starting fires was a lot like ruling a kingdom, or winning a war.

It only took one spark to catch on a log, and all of a sudden the world was on fire.

I looked around at the knights Uther Pendragon had chosen for me. All seven of them were looking at me, asking what to do. 

All of them were trained fighters, and they were looking to me to begin this fight.

And to end it.

"You all try to eliminate as many of the Saxon army as possible. Camille is mine," I instructed, wincing at the bile filling my mouth. Those words had triggered something deep inside of me that hadn't fully accepted Camille was a traitor.

They all nodded, not questioning my decision once. 

We split up, each taking a section of the edge of the woods.

When Lancelot began the countdown, we all crouched into our positions.

I wouldn't go out at the same time as the others. I would let my knights begin the fight and draw Camille out.

Either she would reason with me, or she would have to be killed.

There didn't seem to be any other way.

Lancelot's fingers dropped, and a unison war cry rose from the woods.

Guinevere killed a man right away, her sword rising in a deadly arc that was strangely beautiful in a morbid way. Almost immediately after, a wounded soldier began fighting her.

Percival stayed in the cover of the woods, preferring his bow and arrow to a sword. I couldn't watch all of his arrows hit their mark, but I knew he had an incredible shot.

Elaine and Lynette met in the middle of the camp and fought back-to-back, covering each other's backs and communicating possible threats. Men were sprouting out of their tents by the dozen to attack the pair, but neither woman wavered.

I admired them from my cowardly hiding place.

Lancelot was engaged in a heated duel with a swordsman that seemed to be of equal ability, their swords clashing in a deadly dance of death.

Kay was somewhere with Percival, helping the other knight there to help load the arrows from his quiver.  

Morgan was in the middle of it all.

She wielded two twin scythes, the steel glinting in the pale moonlight.

And then Camille emerged from the tent in the middle of the camp, her blonde hair shining oddly.

It was now my time to work.

I stepped cautiously into the clearing, the sounds of battle in my ears. Swords clanged. People panted. People died.

In the middle of it all, I snuck up on the Saxon queen, with the intent of peace.

I may have to leave the middle with blood coating my hands in a pool of regret. 

Camille turned away from the battle as I approached, and her eyes widened in unattractive surprise.

I have half the mind to laugh at her, until I saw the tiny silver dagger she was fingering inside of the sleeve of her dressing gown.

So she didn't even want me to try to make peace.

"I see you're going straight for violence tonight, Camille. I had planned one more negotiation," I smirked, hoping I emitted confidence the likes of which she had never expected from me.

"I don't think I'm the one who initiated the violence," Camille gestured at the carnage my knights were wrecking on her camp. Saxon soldiers completely disregarded us in an effort to get to the knights before the knights could get to them.

"True," I said, my smirk fading. "But I don't think I'm the one who started the war."

Camille sighed. "I knew you were here for that. And I assume you think this is all that is left of my army."

She didn't seem happy to be having the conversation, more worn out than I had ever seen her.

I could only wonder about the reason for her blatant mood change.

Camille pulled her dagger fully into view, and held it defensively in front of her.

"I always knew this was how it would end. If we don't talk before you die, Lyra, I want you to know England will be in good hands with me." She almost looked genuinely sad, if I hadn't known she was a liar. A fraud. "I wish it could have ended another way."

She ran forward, towards me, and when she swung her dagger, it slid down my arm.

Blood splattered down my tunic, and I hissed in pain, my arm tingling.

And then I couldn't feel the arm besides a dull, heavy throbbing all the way down my arm.

"Not so nice, is it?" Camille said, circling me like I was her prey. "To be caught off balance? To feel like you're one step behind?"

She lunged again, but I had enough presence of mind to dodge this time.

A slow smile was spreading across her face. She was so confident, so sure of herself.

Excalibur hummed in my hands, and I obeyed its desire for Camille's blood.

I jumped up from the ground and swung my sword wildly, trying to nick Camille the tiniest bit, so she would be caught off guard.

She just looked amused and easily blocked me.

Every. Single. Time.

My arms were aching, and blood was running down my arms, making my grip on Excalibur slip more than once.

When I finally thought I had Camille cornered, a coy grin appeared on her face.

"Where's your precious Arthur now, Lyra? Is he dutifully watching for your signal, as you instructed, or is he here, lurking in the woods?"

I faltered. I didn't know what she was implying, but anything that involved that tone of voice was not good.

"He was never yours, peasant," she spit at my feet. "Simply a bridge between me and your plans."

"I would also assume that we are courting, are we not?" Arthur's voice came from behind me. 

With this confirmation, with his deceitful eyes and lying mouth, I thought my heart might break out of my chest.

The butterflies in my stomach turned to bats, and I was sure my heart was laying on the ground in hundreds of ruby red pieces.

It would never be repaired.

I cried out in anguish and began to fight Camille fiercer, harder, quicker, until she was the one panting opposite me.

"I will take everything from you," Camille gritted.

"The only way that would happen," I shot back, "was if I stepped down and allowed you to take it. This was the final betrayal. You are not leaving the clearing alive, Camille."

"All this over a boy?"

"Love is poison."

"I see you learned a valuable lesson, then. Love is a poison, however sweet it may be," Camille's dagger created sparkes when it hit Excalibur.

The adrenaline was wearing off. 

Arthur was engaged with Merlin behind us, who had miraculously appeared behind me some moments ago. The old man showed no restraint towards his former apprentice, as he had in the gardens the day I walked with Arthur.

Theirs was also a battle to the death.

So, so, so many deaths.

Camille swept her dagger in a deadly arc, before Excalibur parried with a quick block above my head.

It was safe to say the sword had magical powers that allowed me to preform much better at sword fighting than I actually was.

Finally, my blade caught on the princess's leg and slid through it like butter. Camille cried out in pain and sank to the ground.

"God's bones, get up," I spat, daring her to move. "Get up and fight so I can kill you with honor."

I didn't know where this brutality was coming from, but I didn't hate the feel of it in my mouth, in my brain.

With everything going on, with everything I had been through, I thought I deserved to be a little mad, a little set on vengeance.

But it wasn't who I was.

Behind me, Arthur and Merlin were exchanging small spells, fighting with a mixture of grunts and curses.

Camille dropped her dagger and Lynette ran up to restrain Arthur from behind in a sneak attack that was rather clever of her on the fly.

Once Arthur was tied in rope, with Merlin watching his every move, I grabbed Camille's dagger and tied a tourniquet around my arm to stop the bleeding.

"I thought I wasn't leaving the clearing," Camille said as the battalion stormed the clearing, as my army slowly but surely overcame hers.

As I won the war she was convinced she was meant to fight.

"It is because of my mercy that I spare your life. You are sentenced to life in the dungeons, where magic reducing charms will be placed on you and your love. This is the greatest fate you could have hoped for when you attempted to take my crown." I dismissed the fallen princess with a wave of my hand, before I turned to Arthur.

He looked so pitiful, kneeling before me like a kicked puppy. His blonde hair covered his eyes, but I could tell by the hard set of his jaw that this was not the outcome he and Camille had planned.

Good.

I crouched down, so I was at his eye level. I lifted his chin gently with my pointer finger before speaking.

"You never loved me." It was more a statement than a question.

"I may have loved you at some point," Arthur admitted, meeting my gaze. "But you were never my motivation for being inside the palace.

I smiled cooly, dropping his chin. "You will also have life in prison. Enjoy the company of that vixen, for you will never see the light of day again."

Watching Arthur be dragged away was gut wrenching, but I couldn't take anything I said back.

It was there, in the middle of a battlefield, that I collapsed into a heap.

We had won, yes, but was it worth it?

THE END 

(Of Lyra's POV)

Word Count: 2246

Total Word Count: 36046

This was the last Lyra chapter. And I did try to foreshadow the Arthur thing.

How do you like him now? Do you agree with Lyra's acts of mercy?

Thank you so much, the Epilogue will be coming soon!

x

CJ