As much as Lila had enjoyed sparring with her brothers’ friends and ‘learning’ the intricacies of medieval warfare, she was of the general opinion that war was never as glorious as anyone made it out to be, and if she had her way she’d be far from it.

Being far from war, however, meant she’d be far from Emrys, and given when and where she was, she didn’t think she could afford that. It was no easy feat to mount a horse while in armor, but a couple of the squires had been helpful enough toward that endeavor. Lila rode behind Arthur, to the left; Emrys rode on his right. Pages hoisted banners high, and as one the warriors set off to meet the Orkney forces whose pennants fluttered on the horizon, a storm of angry black crows come to murder.

The ladies lingered at the castle gates, watching with stoic dread and the knowledge that their men might not come home.

Lila glanced over her shoulder at Guenevere and saw Lancelot standing beside her.

“Why is he doing this?” Arthur asked Emrys in a low voice.