Rachel Andric and Final Death

Chapter 31: Valiant Knights

Will was the one to break the silence. "There must be something we can do," he said. "Can't someone pick the lock?"

"Only you know how to pick it," Ewan said, sighing.

"Not very well," Will admitted, grimacing. "And I don't think I'll be able to do it blind."

"I could, remember?" Morgana said. "Except I've bent my heel out of shape, and the other one doesn't work like that."

"So... we sit here and wait for the Editor, then?" Guy said. "I refuse to accept that!"

"Don't pretend that you can change things, when you really can't," Ewan retorted. "What can we do? Break down the door?"

"It's an interesting suggestion," Morgana said, "but impossible. We certainly aren't equipped for that sort of onslaught."

Gawain groaned. "Well, on the bright side, maybe I'll bleed out before the Editor gets here."

"That's the bright side?" Ewan asked.

"For me it is. I won't have to experience whatever painful tortures she'll inflict on the rest of you," Gawain replied. "Lucky me."

The doorknob rattled. Ewan leveled his sword at the door. Guy was breathing slowly to calm his racing nerves. Will was tense over Guy's shoulder, his nails digging into Guy's arm. Gawain had his sword, but he was in no condition to use it.

The door opened, and Ewan raised the sword. Only Gawain saved the intruder from getting stabbed. "Stop!" he howled. "It's Lancelot!"

Reluctantly, Ewan lowered his sword when he saw the young man staring at them. "What do you want?" he asked.

"Gawain?" Lancelot said, ignoring the others. "For heaven's sake, man, what have you gotten yourself into this time?" Shoving past Ewan, he grabbed Gawain's shoulders, mostly holding him up.

"You followed me," Gawain murmured. He rubbed his arm over his mouth, frowning a little. "Why did you follow me?"

"Because I figured you were going to do something stupid," Lancelot answered. "And I was right. Where are you hurt? Who did it to you?"

"Stabbed in the back. By Dale," Gawain said, his eyes on Lancelot's face.

Lancelot blanched. "Y-you mean Dale was the ... ?" He couldn't seem to bring himself to finish.

"I hate to interrupt," Morgana said, "but unless we get moving, the Editor will be here and we'll all be dead. Back to the dining room, yes?"

Guy nodded his agreement, and the others moved in front of him. Only Lancelot stayed close to him, and his eyes were on Will. "Do you—?" he asked, motioning to the outlaw.

"You want to carry him?" Guy stared at him, trying to decide what the knight wanted.

"Yes. Please," Lancelot added, seeing the doubt on Guy's face.

"Alright." Guy eased Will off his shoulders, laying him across Lancelot's.

Will squinted at Lancelot. "Who are you?"

"Sir Lancelot du Lac."

Will's eyes widened. "I was framed for your murder," he said, sounding confused.

That made Lancelot stop at the base of the stairs. He looked at Will for a long moment before a bitter smile touched his lips. "How ironic."