A/N: graystone I imagine being like Iroh. Just this really awesome old man who only needs a reason to get moving on the warpath. XD

And yay! It�s cold now! XD ;w; they don�t have yellow crystals where I get them at hobby lobby so I�m gonna have to look around more to find what I want. w

Chapter Twenty-Six

A messenger came through Ulster. Cuchulainn found that the little queen had not only taken the head and penis off Marwick for treason, but burned all his men together before going back to Camelot. One part of him found the whole idea amusing, another part made him frown. Showing no mercy was one thing, but out and out torture of men was another. He had seen a few of the �heretics� in Briton burn for believing a different way and he knew that their deaths were torturous.

The things said about the little queen made him wonder if they were true or not. That she had one of her men slaughter a group of villagers as a show and that she was keeping a watch out on Camelot and in the other towns in Briton for traitors. He hated people who were disloyal to their leaders, but he also frowned upon out and out slaughter. Soldiers killing each other in battle were one thing, but killing innocent women and children was something else entirely.

Had he misjudged the little queen he had admired so?

�My liege, what do you want us to do? These heads are of comrades, are they not?� asked Albert of Yewark�s captain.

Albert looked at the head nearest to him and reached over, pushing the hair from the head�s face. His eyes were rolled back in a sickening look of torment. He had gashes across his face, though not deep. Whoever had killed him had been not too clean in the kill. He had been harried and forced, killing any who got near him. �The one who killed these men was not the queen. She is not so out of control that she would lay waste like this. This is the work of a madman, a man who goes crazy in battle and doesn�t know friend from foe when he goes into his battle rage.�

The captain shuddered and looked away. �The queen is said to keep a pet dog that she sends out to do her bidding. She raised him up into her familiar.�

�A witch of the foul sort, then? A dark witch who uses her magic for evil rather than the good witches and wizards we have seen in our past? Hmmm�.� Albert stroked his beard thoughtfully and moved away from the heads.

In the near distance, he saw a man standing. He was dressed in all black, his clothes of leather and bound tight against his body. He wore a coat that fell down to his ankles and was also of the same deep black leather as his clothing, his hands partially covered in a typical archer�s glove style. His skin was tanned, but his hair was as white as the snow. As Albert looked on at the man, he saw faint, pale, scars across his face like a wild cat had clawed him.

�Look alive, men. We have one of Camelot�s in front of us. No clue who he is, however, for he looks like he might be an archer, by the looks of those sleeves, however, he carries no weapon on him.� Indeed, as Albert looked at the strange man, he noticed that the man carried no weapons whatsoever. He was completely unarmed.

�Why would they send a man out without a weapon?� asked Albert�s captain. �Not even a knife on his belt. It�s as though he thinks he�s immortal or something.�

�Unusual, very unusual. It could mean that he has men behind him waiting to strike and he is a decoy. Send a volley of arrows behind him at that ridge and see if we strike anything.� Albert nodded to his captain and watched his captain move behind him and ride to the line of archers standing ready.

In a matter of moments, the sky seemed to darken as arrows loosed from their bows flew through the sky and fell on the ridge behind the man. The man did not move. He stood as still as a statue, as though he were unafraid one of the arrows would hit him. A few fell at his feet, but did not hit him; Albert�s archers were some of the best to be had. His father had lent them to the little queen a few years back when Briton was going to be invaded by the king from the Middle East. Now that Albert was in charge, he wasn�t pleased with this little woman who dared to take such a position she was not righted to would act so unjustly toward her own people. In the past, it was said women had a lot of power; however, that was the past. He was not one to allow such a willful woman do as she pleased on the throne when it seemed the woman was more a tyrant than a woman.

Nothing happened when the arrows made their marks behind the Camelot man. He continued to stay in his spot and no one shouted from behind him or did anything. He was, therefore, alone and unarmed. �Let�s see what he wants. MEN! Follow through!�

The assembled army moved through the border and went toward the single man standing in the snow. Albert moved toward him and stopped not far from him. �Who are you? Why are you here? Were you sent to talk?�

The man lifted his face and looked up at Albert, his hazel eyes gazing at him oddly. Was that a sneer on his face? His face was odd, looking like a cross between a white man and an Asian. His eyes were rounded, but still slanted, his cheekbones high and pretty, but his jaw strong and squared slightly. He was handsome, though he was odd looking. When he spoke, his voice was deep and was accented like that of nobility. He, therefore, either learned to speak English from a noble or was noble born. �I am here to talk,� he said, �I am here to learn of who would attack my queen.�

�A messenger then?� Albert frowned. The lady put a lot of trust in him to not kill anyone who came from the other side of the border. �Tell your queen that I will talk with no other but her. She must answer for crimes against her own people, answer for being a tyrant before she strengthens the steel glove she has upon us already.�

The man did not move, he snorted derisively at Albert. Albert kicked the man on the jaw. �Do as your told, servant, and do not act so rudely toward your superior!�

The man�s head had whipped to the side from the force of Albert�s kick, but he didn�t budge further than that. He was accustomed to being thrashed, it seemed. The man, instead, moved back to the way he was standing and gazed coldly toward Albert, hazel eyes starting to turn gray. �That wasn�t nice,� he said.

In a blur of movement, Albert had to shoot off his saddle in order to avoid a knife being thrown at him. His men went immediately into action. The man moved as though he weren�t human. He seemed to pull weapons from no where and have them in his hands in the blink of an eye. How was he pulling them out if he was unarmed?!

Albert pulled his sword out and advanced on the man, moving backward when he swung at him with a blackened curved short sword. How was this man moving so fast?! He thrust his blade at him and saw him dodge; he swung the sword down and saw the man move away. Then, all at once, his own sword was sliced in two.

Albert moved back fast to avoid being cut in two like his own sword. The man had to kill others before he could come after him, which gave him a decent amount of time to find a way to his horse again. The army swarmed the man and yet, the man never seemed to run out of weaponry.

A cry from the ridge caught Albert�s attention as an entire army of black clad warriors ran at them. Amidst this group of men was a woman with very pale hair and skin riding toward him on her black horse, black armor covering a black battle dress. She held up a sword that was just as black as everything else on her, save the red lines and circles covering it. Albert swung up onto his horse and rode at her, pulling out another sword to use.

Albert�s horse fell underneath him. A man jumped on top of him and threw him to the ground. Albert hit the ground with a jolt and rolled across the blood splattered snow. He groaned as he attempted to sit up, but a sharp pain in his shoulder stopped him. He yelped in pain and put his hand on the offending blade as he squinted up at his attacker. Gold eyes were set in the face of the little queen that he despised so much. She gazed impassively down at him and wrenched the blade. Albert cried out again.

�No mercy,� she said. Then, she ripped the blade out from his shoulder and brought it down on his head.

Everyone stopped to look at the leader of Yewark. His body was bloody from a gaping hole in his shoulder and imbedded in his forehead was Excalibur. Arturia stepped on his throat and pulled the sword out of his skull. After wiping her sword off on her cloak and stowing it back in Avalon, she looked to the men watching her.

�Monster� she�s a monster!� cried one man.

�She�s not human!�

�She�s the devil sent to earth!�

�That�s WAR,� snarled Gawain. �You petty politicians and sniveling pansies need to remember something. You turn against the queen or the king and you will ultimately DIE.� He wiped off his face and moved closer to Arturia�s side.

Arturia looked to the men. She walked amongst them and raised her hand. She touched one and then walked through the crowd again and touched another. She did this for a few minutes until she had selected ten men and then walked back to where Bedivere and Gawain were waiting, their swords out and ready to fight. �The men who I have touched, you will take back a message and spread it around. Those who rebel against me will have no mercy shown to them. Their towns will be razed and their leaders tortured and killed right in front of them before all of the people will be set aflame like their precious towns. Those who I have touched, you will take that home with you and leave my presence now.�

Ten men moved out of the crowd, looking very wary as to what they should do and got on what horses they could find and made a break for it while Arturia was feeling generous. When they had disappeared over the hill, Arturia made her way to her horse. Gaheris looked to Arturia. �What of the rest of the men, my queen? What should we do with them?�

�Take them to Camelot. I have a plan to perform there.� Then, she swung up onto her saddle and looked to the men being rounded up by Arturia. �You may resist if you wish, though it won�t make much difference in your fates. My men are very good at what they do and they follow only me.�

There was little resistance against the men of Camelot. At that notice, they knew they were going to either die or live, but it wouldn�t be at Arturia�s mercy and it wouldn�t be because they fought the men of Camelot, who outnumbered them now. They were outnumbered thanks to one lone archer with white hair who had disappeared when Albert was killed. Their lord wouldn�t be able to help them now, for he was with God and only He could judge him now.

She walked in front of the men and her armor started covering her body like it was living. �Therefore, these men have forfeited their rights as human beings and thus their right to being treated as such and executed in a civil manner.�

A couple men started crying, blubbering behind her. Some of the men lifted their chins up and gave her a bold look of defiance. Most simply looked away and closed their eyes, waiting for their end. As Arturia made her way down the line, she didn�t touch them. �I wish to remind people that I am indeed your queen and will rule as a king would rule. I was chosen for this role by you and the sword Excalibur. For that, I do my best, but it seems� my best is not good enough.�

She stopped at the end of the line and turned. �Therefore, I will do as I said I would and deal out the execution of traitors by my own hand.�

People moved back, scared as to what Arturia would do to the men. Some were fascinated by watching her; others were down right scared out of their wits. What if they did something to anger her? What if they were to join the ranks of these men?

�Squires. Chain them up together,� she said.

A few squires came out from behind the soldiers with chains in their hands and started pulling the men together in a big huddle and chained them together. They fidgeted and snapped at one another as they found themselves unable to move from the huddle.

A squire came over to Arturia and handed her a torch. �Good. Now�. Bring out the body of Lord Albert of Yewark. I wish him to join his ranks.� Men pulled out a bloody body of a blonde haired man with a sword wound in his forehead. The men of Yewark saw him and yelped as the body was thrown on top of them. Then, Arturia took her torch and walked over, holding it out in front of her. Men tried to get away from the fire, sniveling and crying out. �Suffer in hell for your treason, men of Yewark. This is as much mercy as I will ever give you.� Then, she tossed the fire onto them and moved away.

It started slowly, the cries of the men on fire echoing through the village. Then, the fire spread over them and soon after, all the men were engulfed in the blaze, trying to get away from their bonds, but unable to move. Each man cried to God to save them, to come down and take them away from their misery as they slowly burned to death, nothing came.

When the group finally collapsed, men still crying out in pain as they burned, Arturia walked toward the castle with her soldiers behind her, leaving the townfolk in her wake to watch the horror show before them.

�She is a monster,� murmured one.

�She�s evil, so cold.�

Such whispers were kept as soft as possible. In the days to come, such things would be heard by the ears of those loyal only to Arturia and passed to her and then they would be silenced by her assassin archer, Emiya. Word spread from Yewark onward of her atrocities, but none save the nobles of Briton were willing to do anything about it. The Welsh king didn�t feel it was his place to say what she could and couldn�t do against her own people. The Irish kings kept away for they had their own troubles. The Scottish clans didn�t come down and the wizards living there didn�t venture around the waste except those wishing to join the general populace.

Long live the queen.