THE WEEPING MONK WHEEZED HEAVILY. Something was broken inside him. His left arm hung useless at his side, and his sword dragged in his right hand. The ground was thick and twitching Trinity bodies. One trinity remained. His death mask had been knocked aside, revealing wide, fearful eyes behind it.

He spun his flail. The monk walked forward, fearfulness of the weapon. The trinity guard shouted and swung his flail. The monk caught the spiked balls in his ribs, grimacing through the agony, and locked his elbow down over the chains, trapping it. The trinity yanked to no avail as the monk drew him in and stuck his sword directly through his throat.

The guard coughed blood and pitched forward as the Weeping Monk jerked his sword free. The monk spun around as his legs buckled under him.

Squirrel raced to him. "Come on now. Up you go." He pulled on the monk, who rose on instinct alone, allowing Squirrel to guide him to a nearby horse. Gwen followed behind holding Lancelot sword on his side, she pointed up head. The Red Paladin camp was largely empty. The sounds of battle from the Pendragon camp echoed across the Minotaur Valley. Squirrel knew that Trinity guards were still at large and wild.

The Weeping Monk tried to mount the horse but was too weak. Squirrel fitted the monk'a boot into the stirrup and wedged his shoulders under his backside, then pushed up with his legs. The monk lay over the saddle clumsily, and Squirrel hopped up behind him. He reached over the monk for the reins and urged the horse forward, turning them toward the wood. Gwen managed to grabbed a sword in the distance, a white one. She hopped on it followed behind them. Several times Squirrel had to throw himself against the monk to keep him from pitching over the side. The bloody night had ended and a burning dawn was rising.

They rode for an hour in silence across a hillside of tall pines. "What. . ." The monk tried to speak. Gwen furrows her eyebrows, unsure who he was talking to. She flickered her eyes between Squirrel and him. He took several breaths, summoning the strength. "What's is your name?" He looked at Squirrel.

"Squirrel," He answered.

"That." Again the monk lost strength. He tried again. "That is not a name. A squirrel is an animal."

"That's what they called me," Squirrel said, shrugging. "What did your parents name you?"

"I don't like that name," Squirrel protested. The Weeping Monk was quiet for several seconds. Gwen wasn't sure if he was about to die or not. He figured it was not the most unreasonable question.

"Fine. They called me Percy," he said, annoyed.

The Weeping Monk grunted. "Percy?"

"It's short for Percival, I think." And this brought up another question. "Do you have the real name?'' Squirrel asked.

"Lancelot," he answered. "A long time my name was Lancelot." Gwen watched in amazement, he did have a name all this time. He finally looked at her, curious. "Do you only go by Gwen?" She studied his look unsure what to say but took a deep breath before continuing.

"My real name is Guinevere. I used go by Guinevere when I was younger." They both watched each other, with curious eyes.

This is only the beginning.

~ ~ ~ ~

They decided to camp tonight. She watched as the Lancelot kept to himself laying on the ground looking at the sky, it was dark. Squirel snuggled against her laying on her lap. Truly, he felt the most comfortable here than her. Despite sharing a kiss with Lancelot, that made her heart fluttered into million pieces, she doesn't know anything about him. He is the enemy, he killed people, that hasn't changed about his him. She grinned watching him lay against the sky, in the clear dark view.

"You could stop staring at me," he voiced out. She gulps, trying to look away. Lancelot stood up turned at her. "You should be thanking me." Guinevere eyes fluttered clearly not impressed. "For what? You're the one brought us to this camp. You brought me to almost be sell off the god knows what."

He coughed. "They were going to killed you. You're special." She roll her eyes, she doesn't get it. How special is she? She only has a brother and she doesn't remember her parents much. "How so?" She gently laid Squirrel on the ground making him fall asleep near enough the fire for warmth.

She got closer  to him. "Tell, me. How special I am?"

Lancelot cleared his throat. "Your blood. Just remember that. You're the granddaughter of King Cumber." Immediately, her eyes frowned. "How can I possibly be?" He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. All, I heard is that Eydis is your mother." Gwen furrows her eyebrows, unable to speak. How possibly can that woman be her mother? She felt speechless.

"It doesn't matter. Your safe." He rambled only to winced in pain, holding his stomach. Gwen immediately got closer to him holding to his side shoulder. "Are you alright? Do you want me to fetch some-?"

"No! It's fine." He interrupted her, she let out a sighed. "You're clearly not well enough. I'll go get some water for you, or we going find some berries. When I was young, I cured my brother from his wounds using only berries and water, some liquid power." She began speaking, he frowned upon her story. "I'm not your brother."

"Clearly you aren't, Lancelot." She began to get up, she looked once more in his eyes showing a smile. "Please, watch over Squirrel for me." He gulps, nodding. "Don't go far. If you need me, call for me." He continued. She smiled before continuing than she stopped turning back.

"Thank you, Lancelot." She saw how he began to smile at her response. He truly never saw beauty so divine, gazed upon her so mesmerized. She nods showing one last smile before disappearing into the wood. He didn't know than, that would be the last time he'll ever see her.

Never say ever.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

GUINEVERE FELT SOMEBODY WATCHING HER. She quickly hurried picking the berries, she managed to find near the river few yards away. Trembling, in sight, she didn't know it but she was being watched. Quickly, she grabbed some water from the river , placing it on a bottle, she managed to find in the distance. It wasn't right. Something wasn't right. Her lips quivered, she began to tremble not because the air was being harshly violently blowing but somehow she knew eyes were on her the whole time.

Slowly, she leaned back taking few glances around wondering who was watching her, she didn't processed what could happen next. Next time, she knew her mouth was covered by hand, she was being held by the back. Struggling to break free, she couldn't when somebody pointed a knife right against her knife. She took deep breath, slowly began to understand that somebody had been watching her this whole entire time. She could feel his hot breath against her ear, strong muscled pair of arms wrapped around her. "You're not escaping me this time. Keep walking." She began to listened, she didn't want to get hurt. The voice sounded so familiar. Who was this man? It's sounded so familiar.

"Hello, Viking princess."