For The Love Of A Pendragon.

Chapter Twenty...Death's Door...

Trolius 

Chapter Twenty…Death's Door...

‘Nerys is dead. Nerys is dead.’ Cei repeated again and again, he had collapsed to his knees in front of me and was shaking, covered in blood. Some of it was his but most was not.

                ‘Where are the children?’ I asked urgently, beginning to fear the worst. He looked up at me, his dirt covered face haunted with the horrors of the last few hours.

                ‘Gone.’ He whispered before busting into tears.

                ‘Help Sir Cei to his feet and escort him to his room.’ I ordered one of my men swallowing back my own fears. ‘Come with me,’ I commanded indicting to the rest of my patrol to follow me.

                It did not take long before we reached the wreckage, Sir Cei, although in shock, had ridden ahead pleading for help to be sent. The sight sickened me, the royal carriage was nothing but a burnt out box on blackened wheels. The corpses of seven of Camelot’s finest knights lay broken and bloodied amongst the debris, ‘search for survivors.’ I instructed trying to keep my voice hard and void of emotion.

                Suddenly though the wind that had picked up around us I heard a woman keening, the screaming echoing around the valley. I ran towards the sound to find Nimue holding the body of Lady Nerys to her chest and crying into her hair.

                ‘Nimue!’ I shouted all disguises temporarily forgotten in my fear.

                She looked up her face stained red, ‘Troilus.’ Nimue answered sounding lost and confused. Her voice trembled as she spoke. Approaching them I realised that darling Eleanor was beside her, the corners of her month were coloured with vomit, not far away there was a puddle of it was soaking into the ground.

                ‘Where are the boys?’ I asked quietly.

                Eleanor nodded toward Nimue before burying her head in her hands and beggining to sob once more. Crouching down next the woman I admired most in the world I placed my palm on her shoulder and eased her away from the body to reveal that within Nerys arms lay the equally still body of Augustus.

                ‘Mordred?’ I questioned, holding back the wave of nausea that had gripped me the moment I beheld their pale faces, the light gone from their eyes.

                ‘Gone.’ She whispered in reply…