Lancelot angrily stood, and walked hurriedly back to Arthur. "Arthur..."
Arthur looked at him seriously, "Yes?"
"It's Guinevere. She's gone. The Saxons have taken her."
"What?" Arthur quickly got off his horse, "Where was she last?"
Lancelot nodded his head toward the foot-tracks, and he and Arthur walked towards the forest. Locating the crumbs, Lancelot pointed, "Right here."
Arthur nodded. "I'll have Tristan scout the camp again."
Lancelot nodded his mouth tight. He scanned the area. "She has to be close by."
Once again, Tristan and Lancelot were on the ridge.
"They're moving. North… and quickly," Tristan stated.
Lancelot frowned. "Lord, keep her safe," he prayed.
Tristan looked at him, "Who are you talking to?" he asked inquisitively.
Lancelot faced him, "Jesus. I was praying."
"Does he respond?" he asked, curiously.
"Yes, but perhaps not in the way we always think."
Tristan was silent for a moment. "Was it for her?"
Lancelot nodded. He was surprised of all the Knights that Tristan would ask him about it, but smiled at the thought.
"You have to find her," Tristan stated calmly.
Lancelot nodded. "I must leave quickly."
"Arthur will agree. I have no doubt of that." Tristan stood, and walked with Lancelot back to the horses.
Lancelot dipped his head in agreement.
Arthur approached them, "Are they moving?"
"Yes. North, and at a good pace," Tristan said.
"Arthur, I have to save her. Guinevere means a great fortune to me," Lancelot said with much feeling.
"I know," Arthur turned in his saddle. Facing Lancelot, he spoke caringly, "Find her Lancelot, and Godspeed."
With a determined nod, Lancelot clicked his tongue, edging his horse into a canter. Much to his surprise, another sound of hoof beats joined at his side. Looking sharply to his right, unexpectedly he saw Tristan.
"You're going to need an extra swordsman you know," Tristan said, a small smirk forming on his face.