"For Arthur and the Table!" Palamedes cried out to rally his fellow knights as they fought against the savage men. They were tired and wounded, their armor and weapons battered and they were cut off from their king. "For King and Camelot!" Each yard they gained closer to Arthur, who fought at the top of a hill against horrid beast men, was like moving a mountain but they persevered until they stood at the base of the hill. But then, just as they gathered themselves to charge up the hill, a huge creature shaped like a man but with the curling horns of a stag, rose behind Arthur raising a short sword.
"ARTHUR!!!" Palamedes called out in warning but too late, the Horned Man struck down the King. Laughing the Horned Man turned and fled. Palamedes and his fellow knight fought to Arthur's side and cleared a space about their fallen king. Sir Gawain knelt to Arthur checking for life but shock his head. "We must get the king back to Camelot and the queen," Gawain declared.
"No, we must avenge him. The Horned Man will escape justice otherwise." Palamedes argued.
"The queen stands unguarded. She is all that we have left," Gawain argued in return. "She must be protected."
"We will split. I will take two knights and hunt the Horned Man," Palamedes replied nodding. He knelt and gently took Excalibur from Arthur's hand. "And I swear on my life I will strike down the Horned Man with our king's blade."
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Palamedes racing through a marshy swampland pursuing the Horned Man. Beasts came at him, boar-man and bear-men, wolf-men and goat-men but he cut through them with Excalibur, the sword blazing, leaving arcs of cold blue light in the air.
Palamedes raced through the swamp keeping exhaustion at bay by sheer willpower. Sir Bors and Sir Balin had both fallen…was it a day ago? Longer?
No, it was Vespers the day after Arthur fell, Palamedes thinks. Shapes jump out at him, boar-man and bear-men, wolf-men and goat-men but he cut through them with Excalibur, the sword blazing, leaving arcs of cold blue light in the air. Still he road on.
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Early evening of the third day after Arthur fell, Palamedes is stands at the bottom of an impossibly sheer cliff watching the horned man climb effortlessly to the top. And at the top, the creature turns and holds aloft the sword he'd used to kill the king. It dripped and steamed with crimson black smoke and it was almost a mirror of the sword in the Saracen Knights hand. Sighing, Palamedes began to climb. By evening he found his way to the top of the cliff and a mist shrouded forest.
