There was a brief moment of blissful contentment as he opened his eyes to see the sun streaming in through the open tent flap, then pain roared across Percival's bruised nerve endings like a wave breaking on the rocks. He clenched his eyes against the spiking agony battering his limbs, and groaned.

Someone lifted a beaker of water to his lips and Percival drank greedily. He opened his eyes to see the careworn, relieved face of a tired looking Grayle.

"Help me up," said Percival, his voice rasping into the morning air.

Grayle helped his father sit up in bed and Percival looked at his son, smiling despite his bruised face and pain-wracked body. "Good to see you lad."

"Good to see you too. We were worried for a little while but Merlin said you'd be fine." Grayle's expression darkened, the sudden solemnity instantly apparent to his father.

"What's wrong son?"

"Merlin: just when I thought I was beginning to understand him, he did something utterly abhorrent, it was barbaric."

"What's happened?"

"After you passed out, he had you brought in here, made sure you were comfortable, stitched the cuts, and dressed your wounds carefully. He did it all with great tenderness and care." Grayle grimaced, preparing himself for his next words. "Then he went outside to where Camlan's body lay, cut out his left eye, and took his ear and hand. I don't know what he has done with them, but he mutilated Camlan, and told the guards to bury him somewhere outside without any sort of ceremony."

"Camlan was a pagan Grayle," said Percival. "He died with his sword in his hand, I made sure of that. He died a warrior's death as he would have wanted. He would not be worried about what happened to his body after his death as long as he died in battle. Merlin's beliefs are different again, and I suspect he has some plan in mind, although I have to agree that what he did was unsettling. I don't think it's something you need to worry about son. It's done, and we're still here."

"I found where they'd buried him and said a prayer for him."

"And he would've appreciated that too." Percival leaned over and gripped his son's arm, sighing heavily. "I'm sorry I stopped you fighting son, but I couldn't see you go up against Camlan, you weren't in the right frame of mind. You were too angry to fight to the best of your ability, but not angry enough to take him out. I hope you understand."

"I understand father, I'm just glad you're still here to apologise, not that you need to. I wanted to fight with hate in my heart and it would have been my undoing. I have been talking with David, and he has helped me understand myself a little more." Grayle disengaged the hand from his arm and shook his hand in thanks.

"Now, what's going on, and how long have I been out of action?" said Percival, suddenly businesslike.

"Only a day, although I don't recommend you try and get back on your horse for a little while. Grandfather is recovering slowly, but still has odd bouts of depression. He has been talking a great deal with David too which seems to help him. Merlin and Cadan have been bringing out the first loads of treasure from the depths of the hill, but it's slow work."

Grayle paused, his eyes roving the bandages that covered his father's body. "Do you feel up for a meeting with grandfather and the others later on? We need to prepare ourselves. The scouts have said Hengist and his Saxons are getting closer daily, and with you out of action, and Mark still recovering we need to get things sorted out from a command point of view."

Percival looked at his son, impressed with the authority coming into his voice. "I think the best thing we can do is probably put you in charge son, but yes, I'll make it, even if you have to carry me."

"Carry you father? I think I'd rather eat my feet. You're a lump."

"That's Sir Lump to you Grayle," said Percival laughing weakly. "Right, give me a few hours sleep and then wake me, I look forward to catching up on events."

~

Mark looked around the table in the command tent, noting the grim expressions on the faces of the men there. As well as Merlin, Percival and Grayle, David and Gawain were also present, representing in turn the church, Camelot and the Knights of the Round Table. Additionally, he had asked Cadan, Morholt, Carne, and Joss to the meeting to represent the miners and the men in the camp. He listened to the movements outside the tent for a moment, a horse moved and several men walked past talking, then he raised his hand for silence.

"Welcome gentlemen, thank you for joining me. Right, for this conversation, I want no sirs, majesties, knights, captains or other titles. Let us lay aside all the trappings of power and so on just for a little while. It tires me, and quite frankly we've been knocking around long enough to dispense with all that.

"We are all together in this, whether we like it or not. We will all stand together, fight together, and if necessary, we'll die together. We are in a precarious situation now. Carne has informed me the enemy is closing. They have made good time, marching their men hard, and have now made camp to the south of our position. I suspect they will rest for a day, maybe two, to regain their strength, but during this time they will continue to send out their scouts to ascertain our exact numbers and movements prior to working out their attack strategy. We have lost several of our own scouts in the last few days, and one of our patrols has failed to return. We have only managed to capture one of their scouts, and he told us very little.

"We no longer have the option of flight. Although we have found the Dragon treasure, we have still to get out the entire hoard and I certainly do not want to leave anything behind for Hengist. So, gentlemen, we stand, and we fight.

"Morholt has sent a few men down the road to meet the party from Camelot. We're not sure how many are coming or even who as yet, as Arthur has had to split his forces to counter an incursion from the Franks on the south coast. I suspect they have been paid by Hengist to cause trouble, and they are certainly succeeding. The courier due yesterday has not arrived as expected, and he may have been intercepted.

"From our original total of almost two hundred men, we have lost a patrol of twelve, two of the mining crew in a small collapse at the base of the shaft, Camlan and Tomas are no longer with us, and we lost an Exeter soldier in an accident when he fell from the palisade walls."

"Oh hell," whispered Percival quietly, breaking the flow of his father's conversation. "Father, I have made a mistake. We expelled Tomas, but we should have kept him here. He spent the night with Camlan in the brig and then I just let him walk out of the camp. He has full knowledge of our defensive capabilities, and Camlan could quite feasibly be using him as a messenger to Morgause. I wasn't thinking clearly, I'm sorry."

"Don't worry lad, Jowan would have told them all he knew a few days ago, there will be little more that can be told other than we've found the treasure, and Morgause is expecting the hoard to be there anyway. I suspect Tomas will not last long if he is carrying information, they will probably question him and then kill him.

"Now, the normal Saxon tactic is to overwhelm the enemy by sheer numbers. They will know Arthur is sending reinforcements, and they will know that once the Frankish incursion to the south has been dealt with that those troops will be only days behind the party coming directly here from Camelot. They are in almost as much of a quandary as we are. We have no choice but to stand and fight, they have no choice but to attack en masse and hope they can overwhelm us and spirit away the treasure before the main forces arrive from Camelot. We will face a full frontal attack gentlemen. They have some mounted soldiers, but they will be little to no use in a siege style battle. They do have some slingers and javelin men, but generally, it will be a head-on attack. We will need to develop our tactics to suit.

"Following the finding of the treasure trove, the majority of the miners have been re-employed in other areas. This palisade will not be our final defensive position gentlemen. We will retreat to the upper position at the top of the hill. Let's make the bastards climb to meet us.

"Gawain, I want you to lead a mounted section and harry them from the flanks. You will be on your own during the battle so I suggest you take a good supply of arrows and carry out lightning fast attacks. Dart in, pepper them full of spines and then run away again. No heroics, no engaging in battle. It is a difficult role but I think you are the right man for the job. Do you accept?"

"Yes, Mark, I do, and thank you for your confidence in me."

Mark nodded and carried on. "You will command a relatively small group of two patrols, but you and your double dozen will be important, and will be able to not only harry the enemy but keep contact with the outside world, where I suspect we will not. If you get the chance, I'd also like you to try and sever any supply lines and, if you get the chance, take out their commanders."

Gawain nodded his agreement and sat, deep in thought, already planning what and who he would need to carry out his task.

Grayle was looking uneasily around the table and abruptly realised the cause of his distress. He looked at David who was sitting quietly on the other side of the table. "David," he said quietly catching the Bishop's attention. "Where is Daniel?"

A hush descended on the table and everyone looked at the Bishop.

"I have sent him back to the cloisters," he said softly. "I will not see him butchered unnecessarily. I'm afraid my first duty is to the church, and one day he will make a fine church knight regardless of the outcome of this forthcoming battle. Before you take issue with me Gawain, Grayle, he did not say goodbye because I ordered him not to. You have enough on your plates without that distraction. He bade me to wish you well and says that he will miss your friendship, but hopes God will allow you to meet up soon. He will also take word to Exeter that I have chosen to remain here. If of course, you will have me."

Grayle and Gawain looked at the Bishop in dismay for a moment and then both subsided, thinking about their friend. Mark looked at the Bishop and nodded at him. "Your presence is a comfort to us all David, thank you for staying."

Mark looked across the table. "Gawain, you have your orders. Initially, we will use the lower fort to make good use of the killing ground we have prepared. Access to the flanks of the hill is restricted by the dykes and ditches in the area, these have been cleared out and stakes placed on the opposite banks to ensure the bulk of the attack will come at us head-on.

"Gawain, you and your patrols will be responsible at first for making sure no mounted men slip past us, particularly on the western side, which is more weakly defended. The archers and ballistae men will utilise the killing field to its full advantage, and then we will carry out a staged withdrawal up the hill to occupy the fort at the top. The winches will be used to haul the ballistae up the hill, and will then be disabled. Caltrops will be sprinkled liberally by the retreating line of soldiers. We are going to make this a very hard place to storm gentlemen.

"We have enough food and water for a week at the most. Arthur's men should arrive in the meantime bringing more supplies and more men, and then gentlemen, we fight. "

The table of men looked at Mark, many nodding their assent and then as one, they turned as the tent flaps parted.

"My King!" said Merlin, and rose to his feet to embrace Arthur.

"My apologies for arriving unannounced gentlemen, but Morholt's men mentioned things were happening, so I thought I'd take a little ride ahead and see for myself."

"You rode alone?" said Merlin unhappily.

Arthur nodded. "You worry too much Merlin, sometimes even a king needs to take a little risk. Come on; stop fussing around me like a mother hen and sit down."

Grumbling into his beard, Merlin stumped across to his seat and sat, darting a dark look at his king.

Arthur moved around the table and shook Mark's hand, noting the resolve in his eyes and turned to face the table who were in various stages of shock and awe. Joss, Carne and Cadan, abruptly seemed to come to their senses and knelt, prompting a tutting noise from Arthur.

"Gentlemen please, let me be a mere man for a few minutes, no kneeling and just Arthur for now. Please, be seated gentlemen.

"Everything seems like it is well organised. So, if you don't mind Mark, I will stand at the front and show off my sword skills." Arthur grinned at Mark, who smiled back at him. "What the hell happened to you two anyway?" he gestured at Mark and Percival and listened soberly as the men around the table brought him up to speed on current events.

"Camlan? Really? Dear Lord, that bloody woman gets her teeth into everyone, doesn't she? Mark, I'm sorry, I should have dealt with my sister many years ago. She will soon get her comeuppance, I promise you. But Camlan? Why would he do such a thing?"

"I think I can answer that," David answered. He placed Camlan's necklace in the centre of the table, the small pixie figure dancing immovably in golden form.

"He was in love. He and Morgause met many years ago when he was King Lot's Captain of the guard, and she was newly married to Lot. They had a passionate affair but were discovered by one of the guards. Morgause killed the man, and Camlan took the blame, claiming an argument and leaving Lot's service to travel around Europe. During his time away, he studied weaponry, fighting with some of the greatest swordsmen in the Eastern Kingdoms, and came back a different man. At least until Morgause got her claws into him once more, and once again he became her plaything, hers to command. That's simplified a great deal from what he told me, and before any of you worry about me betraying a confidence, he said I could tell you if he was killed. He knew what he did was wrong, but couldn't help himself. I judged him to be a good man at heart, but weak-willed and easily led. In some ways, I suspect fighting you and being beaten finally came as a relief Percival.

"He also gave me permission to clarify his lineage and the right to trial by combat." David took a deep steadying breath and looked over at Percival. "Camlan was the youngest son of Sir Gornemant."

David paused at Percival's indrawn breath of horror. "Percival, you knew him only by name as Malheris. By the time Gornemant had taken you on, Malheris had left home to become page to Sir Ecrivain of Marlborough. He was trained by the same man who trained you and Lancelot, a Gaulish weapons master without peer and a man who was employed by Ecrivain to train his own sons.

"There was an argument, something trivial, but Ecrivain's oldest son was killed by Malheris. Ecrivain loved Malheris as one of his own and, recognising no-one was to blame, he sent Malheris away without punishment. That perhaps was his mistake. Malheris had loved Ecrivain's son like a brother and his death ate at him over the years. He took a new name, Camlan, and disinherited himself from Gornemant, sending an anonymous letter to his father claiming to have seen Malheris die of a fever, and sending his signet ring back to his father as proof."

"I remember that letter," said Percival softly. "It's the only time I ever saw Gornemant cry. He's never spoken of it again in all the years I've known him. And now I've killed his son." Anguish ripped the words from his throat in a rasp, and Percival bowed his head as David carried on the story.

"After that, he journeyed north and joined Lot's soldiers, quickly distinguishing himself and rising to the position of Captain. That's where he met Morgause, and his second fall from grace began."

Percival lifted his head and reached up to his neck, painfully pulling out his own golden chain, the identical pixie figure, and tossed it bitterly to the table as he spoke.

"We were all fools it appears. Morgause was Lady in Waiting to Gornemant's wife when I was doing my training. The only positive thing about my brief affair with Morgause was that necklace, which gave me the momentary advantage over Camlan. Camlan and I were very similar, the main difference being I didn't go back to her, although she did try. Arthur knows about that and has been generous enough not to hold it against me."

Arthur bowed his head and replied. "You are judged by your deeds, not your mistakes, Sir Knight. You are a member of the Round Table for a good reason, your past is irrelevant, just as Gawain's parentage is of no matter. Your oath is to me and had I any doubt in my mind you were not able to carry out that oath, then I would not have asked you to become one of us.

"I will ask that none of us ever speak again of this conversation gentlemen. I don't think it would serve Gornemant well to know his son was killed by Percival. And Percival, you had no way of knowing who you faced, and should in no way feel responsible for that."

Percival smiled wanly at him and bowed his head in return.

Arthur leaned forward, his eyes intent. "Well gentlemen, we have a lot to do. Grayle please help Gawain get things set up, the rest of you know what needs to be done. Thank you for your assistance and perseverance to date. Let's get this moving gentlemen."

As the others left, Arthur turned to Merlin. "I think it might be worth me taking a walk to the top of the hill to assess the lie of the land. Merlin, while we're up there, I have a favour to ask," said Arthur almost boyishly. "May I see inside the mound?"