. 02 . This wasn’t right. It wasn’t wrong either. The past two weeks had been a confusing mess of issues for the would-be general. To kill or not to kill, to protect the queen, to save his family; it would have been enough to render weak minds into madness. That hadn’t changed when Gawain woke up, so to speak. Suddenly he had found himself remembering, actually baffled in finding himself guiding men once again and at the orders of a Queen.
His brother wasn’t his brother, he was his comrade. One of his soldiers was his brother instead. And he hadn’t had a sister besides Asya. And Polyxena also with him, how odd was the whole situation?
Gawain gave himself an hour. He settled his mind and wondered what to do. In truth, he shouldn’t leave. Half his mind was still the Queen’s follower, the one who had placed her above even those he loved dearly. But the other remembered a golden kingdom and a crown on his uncle’s head. Remembered the man he had called brother who was more than that, a comrade and a knight. None of those could be left behind. It was pure impulse – as anything else would make him doubt, question himself all over again. It drove him to arm himself and search for a path to the dungeons.
The guards obeyed without question when he asked to be left alone. Poor men, they likely thought it would be a regular visit. Good. They wouldn’t get punished. Door was pushed wide open, the chains holding his friend opened and his complaints silenced with a sharp command. Gawain wouldn’t be moved, not while in danger. He pulled one of Tristan’s arms over his shoulders and served as support on the way out. It was definitely slower than wiser but nothing else can be done.
It was also unwise to stop on the way out, staring at the Ilium diplomat who was struggling… with a prisoner? Gawain blinked in surprise, opened his mouth to speak, inquire maybe how the man had followed him. Was he being watched? But there was no time. Instead, he gave the man an apologetic glance and ran out. He was already breathing harshly and helping out the other man onto a horse proved to be a little more than complicated.
That’s when he heard it. Footsteps. Fast, numerous and he didn’t need that instinct in the back of his mind for his body to move faster.
“We ride north,” he instructed his friend. “Hold on and keep going. If we get separated, don’t look back, always to the north.”
They might not escape, he thought as he jumped onto his own horse, Helen was, if anything, extremely keen on pursuing whatever she wanted. God knew she wouldn’t be too pleased with him after this. But they sure as hell would try.
“Let’s go.”
The horses moved forward in the exact moment arrows began sailing through the air.