Chapter 8: Chapter 8 (Rewrite)
===Godrick, age Sixteen===
Little under a year had passed since Godrick and Mordred were told they failed their tasks.
Mordred and Artoria's relationship had become more bitter as time went by, and she continued to become more and more distant.
Morgan and Merlin's research regarding the four weapons had produced much needed results, and they all learned that the other Rune were ones that made their weapons sharper, stronger, and increased attributes of the wielder. And they also learned that these Runes were powered by human souls, which answered why the Warlord went around massacring villages.
Other than a small number of changes, things for Godrick were going relatively well. He continued to train with Lancelot, Agravain, and Galahad, while Mordred trained with Artoria herself, and Gawain.
Mordred and his relationship was also strained a small bit, as he didn't hold his mother accountable for his own failings, something he had to remind Mordred of constantly.
The two hardly spoke anymore, but Godrick made an effort to reconnect with his sister on a daily basis. He just hoped it was working.
That was until a maid came running into Artoria's study with news of having seen Mordred riding out of the castle… with Clarent strapped to her waist.
Godrick stared at the woman who had burst into the study in astonishment before his mother stood from her table, and rushed out of the room.
Godrick followed his mother out of the room, and ran with her down the long hall to the doorway that would lead them down to the treasury of Camelot.
Artoria threw the doors open, and walked past the multiple pairs of guards that lined the wall.
Coming to the stand in front of a big man who guarded the massive double doors that lead into the treasury, she ordered him to move, which he did so.
She threw the doors open, and walked in, followed by her son.
"Did Mordred come here by chance?" She asked the man as he walked with her.
"Prince Mordred did come here. He said he had specific orders from you to bring you the sword Clarent." He said.
She walked deeper into the vault that held gold, silver, precious gems, and spoils of war such as decorative weapons and other things.
Artoria ignored them all, continuing to walk to the back wall where her most precious items were held.
Three pedestals stood on a raised dais. The one of the left was empty, being a place for Excalibur that was constantly strapped to Artoria's hip.
The one in the middle held the divine spear Rhongomyniad, which no one but her was allowed to touch.
The third and final pedestal was empty as well, which Artoria stopped and stared at. The place which was meant to hold the sword Clarent, was indeed empty.
"We have to go after her!" Godrick said, turning around and beginning to walk from the vault.
Artoria turned and watched her son walk away.
"Godrick, you go after her, I'll get the rest of the Knight of the Round Table and follow after you!" She said, walking next to her son's side.
He nodded, and diverted his direction to his room. To his surprise, Morgan was there, seated in one of his chairs that surrounded a small circular table. Well… Small to him.
"I heard what happened." She said, standing.
"Let me help you get armored up."
He quickly dressed in his leather jerkin and other things before Morgan began strapping his full plate armor to his body.
"Be careful." She said, handing him his massive halberd.
"I will." He said as he nodded to her before walking from the room.
He ran down the long hallway, his steps almost making the walls shutter with his weight.
He finally made it to the stables where he met his horse. It was the massive beast he had stolen from the son of Marquess Grasso.
Godrick patted his horse and ran his gauntleted hand through the giant beast's hair.
Finally saddled up, Godrick rode out of the capital, intent on finding his sister, which didn't happen until the next morning.
===
Artoria and her riders were looking in one spot, and Godrick was looking in another, miles away from each other.
He found her among a camp, north of Camelot. She was seated around a fire with a dozen or so more people in a valley.
It seemed the people weren't all that nervous of being found, or they just didn't care.
He stopped about two hundred feet or so from them, and could instantly see his sister Mordred.
"MORDRED!" He yelled at the top of his lungs, getting everyone's attention.
She suddenly stood up and looked at him, her demeanor completely changed from what he knew of his sister.
She was usually hotheaded and brash, often rowdy. But now, she seemed nervous, and scared for some reason.
A massive Knight stood from the fire, and walked to Mordred's side, placing a hand on her shoulder as if to comfort her, or maybe to stop her from leaving.
"Leave Godrick!" She said, a hint of desperation in her voice.
"Not without you!" He shouted before taking a step forward.
The other Knights started to emerge from their tents to see what was happening before an icy voice spoke, sending shivers down Godricks spine as the scars on his back flared up
"My, my, what do we have here?" A female Knight said, pushing past the others.
Her armor was a dull black color with multiple knicks and cuts throughout it, looking like it hadn't been fixed in years. Old bloodstains made it look even more unnerving.
The helmet was made of dull black steel, its faceplate and eye holes having multiple holes poked into them so the woman behind it could breathe.
Her helmet was topped with ragged black hair that swayed in the wind, while her own white hair came from the bottom of her helmet, braided down her back. Other braids came from the sides of her helmet to fall onto her chest plate as well, though they were shorter and less thick then the main one down her back.
Her hands were taloned at the end of her fingers, which held a long sword who's handle was wrapped in leather. It's crossguard was made of the same black steel as her armor, which led to an equally black blade.
The blade had multiple serrated sections on it, making it a vicious piece of steel.
She started walking towards Godrick, but stopped a dozen yards away.
"And who are you?" She asked, a hint of interest in her voice.
"That is no concern of yours, now step aside." Godrick said arrogantly as he walked towards her.
He intended to walk past her and take Mordred back, cutting anyone that got in his way down, but it didn't quite work out that way.
A flash of a blade stopped him as he took a massive step to his right, bringing his halberd up to catch the Knights sword as it glanced off the shaft.
She then swept her sword backwards towards him, which he caught again on the weapon.
His anger started to slowly rise as he took deep breaths, which the woman took for inexperience.
He pushed her blade off his weapon, and whipped it around to take her feet out from under her. She tried to dodge it, but failed as the halberd hit her feet and left her vulnerable for attack, which Godrick capitalized on.
Faster than lightning, he spun to his right, once more whipping his halberd up and around to come smashing into her chest.
She skillfully brought her sword up, and the hammer side of Godricks halberd slammed into it, sending her flying through the air.
To Godricks shock, she landed gracefully next to the big man who stood by Mordred, and began to laugh.
Her laughter was like that of the insane, loud and uncontrollable. She soon quieted, and looked at him.
"You are strong, I'll give you that. Maybe as strong as Anthrax here, but I'll tell you this." She said as she began to walk towards Godrick once more.
"Strength won't help you in this fight!" She yelled before suddenly blitzing forward.
Godrick brought his halberd down hard, hoping to catch her when she suddenly appeared in front of him. But to his shock, as their blades met, she folded.
Their weapons clashed, but there was no force behind hers, and as his halberd smashed into her weapon, forcing it back until they disconnected, she struck.
At that moment, he saw the woman tighten her grip around the handle of her blade, and knew he had fallen for her trap.
She planted her feet, swung with her hips, and hit him in the right side of his chest with all her strength.
The strike threw him back into the field behind him. He landed hard, knocking the air from his lungs before he forced himself to roll to his feet.
The woman was on him before he could get his bearings, and stab at his stomach.
He turned, but he still felt her blade cut through his armor and flesh.
He tried to impale her with the sharp butt end of his halberd, but she knocked it to the ground with her sword, then placed her foot on top of it as she ran her blade through his left thigh.
He let out a bellow of pain and rage, his hot breath wafting through the holes in his helmet.
He knew she was toying with him, and decided that now wasn't the time to hold back.
He ripped his halberd from the ground, throwing her off balance before spinning and striking the earth beneath them to throw it at her.
The ground shattered, throwing rock into the air before he felt a searing pain in his back. He looked down and saw the tip of her blade sticking from the right side of his abdomen before it was pulled back.
Pure rage filled his entire being at this humiliation, so he let it consume him, driving him to his breaking point.
With a roar, he twisted, and backhanded the woman with all his strength, but she barely dodged it.
His hand grazed the top of her helmet, throwing her into the ground before he raised his halberd and smashed down with all his strength.
A massive earthquake shook the land, and the ground around them exploded upwards, throwing everything skywards for hundreds of feet.
Rock crumbled to dust, trees turned to splinters, and the water practically evaporated.
The women's camp was blown away, and Godrick didn't know it at the time, but Mordred had begun fighting its inhabitants to get to him. But they were blown away as well.
In the epicenter Godricks eyes widened as he saw his opponent's sword locked with his halberd.
"What did I tell you? Your strength wouldn't help you here!" She said as she strained herself to push his halberd off her sword.
She threw his weapon to her right, his left, shifting his weight which gave her an opening.
One she took.
Sliding behind him, she dragged her blade across the back of Godrick's right knee, hamstringing him before impaling him just below the right shoulder blade, the tip of her blade exiting just below his left collarbone.
He screamed for the first time since he was a child, not in rage, but in pure pain.
"I recognize that scream." She whispered to him sadistically before ripping his armor apart.
She pulled her sword from him, and used it to brutally cut the clothes from his upper torso before she stood back and watched as he fell forward onto his hands.
As he did, she began to laugh.
Suddenly it all came back to him, all the nightmares, the night terrors, the nights he spent crying into his mothers chest.
He saw the figure that ordered him strapped to a stone before whipping him.
His fingers dug into the solid earth before he suddenly turned and lunged at her.
Everything came to a stop however as the rising sun flashed across a dull black blade, and everything went eerily silent.
Godrick was on his hand and knees, his left hand holding his throat as he gurgled for breath, the blood in his throat making it hard to breathe.
As he had lunged at her, she had lashed out with the tip of her sword, driving it into his throat just enough to damage his Larynx, but not enough to do much more.
Blood poured from beneath his fingers, but no matter how much pressure he put, it wouldn't stop.
He slowly slumped forward into the dirt before he felt three strong kicks to his ribs on his left side.
The third kick made him roll over before his helmet was suddenly ripped from his head, and taloned fingers gripped his face.
She forced him to look up at her as she stared down at him, a look of disappointment on her face.
"You're much more handsome than that boy I remember in the village, snot and tears covering your face. It's a shame you'll die here. But then that's war. That's what Artoria gets for sending a boy to do a King's job." She said before viciously kicking him in the chest, cutting lines in his face from her talons.
He fell back weakly, Putting his right hand up to stop what was to come.
He could hear someone screaming his name from far away, but he couldn't make it out as his head was throbbing in pain.
The Warlord stood over him and raised her sword before she looked towards her camp.
"You probably can't hear it. But your sister is begging for you to get up." She said before looking down at his face.
"Too bad that won't happen." She finished before thrust downwards.
Her sword pierced through his right hand before burying it into his chest, and finally into the ground.
She made sure to go all the way to the hilt as she watched the bubbling pulsing blood from his throat slow before pulling her blade out once more standing above his unmoving corpse.
The Warlord stood and walked away from the young man's body, walking towards the remnants of her camp.
Anthrax held Mordred by the back of her neck with his right hand, while his left held her left hand that had Clarent in it.
"A magnificent fight my Lord." He said in a cold voice.
"Yes, well, he almost had me there for a moment. Grizrig's work with his runes is quite impressive I must say." She said, looking down at the rune that saved her in the most critical moment of their fight.
The Rune of Thorns prevented one from receiving healing magic for the wounds a person took from the sword, as well as making it harder for them to heal over time.
The Rune of strength gave her the physical fortitude to withstand his full strength, which is why she chose to kill him.
If She was correct, he was only about sixteen or seventeen years old, and he was already stronger then her strongest General, Anthrax. If he were allowed to grow into a man, there would be no way of knowing his upper limits.
She turned to Mordred who was silently staring at her brother's body, tears streaming from her eyes before she suddenly tried to break free from Anthrax's grip, but a strong strike from the Warlord knocked her out cold.
Her General let Mordred's limp body fall to the ground before the Warlord reached over, and took Clarent from her nerveless fingers.
"Pack up! We're leaving!" She shouted through the ruined camp.