Summary: An apology that is no apology.
Word Count: 246
Prompt: #6 Whispers in the Night
It was the quiet that woke him: the night suffused with absolute stillness. He opened his eyes but made no other movement, listening for the predator that had startled the world into silence. He heard nothing, but a dark shape passed in front of the eastern stars, veiling the sky as it made its way among the sprawling bodies of knights who were supposed to be keeping watch. In one swift, silent motion, Arthur rolled to his feet, one hand grasping his blade.
He almost called out before he realized that his men were either enchanted or dead, and would not rouse from their slumber. So he followed the mysterious figure instead, threading carefully through outstretched limbs and picket lines, until whoever he was following slipped away under the trees.
Thin fingers of moonlight played with the shadows, shifting the eye from darkness to light and back again. Arthur wasn't sure when it happened: one moment he could see the dark shape ahead, and in the next breath there was nothing beneath the silent boughs. For the span of one heartbeat, he was completely and utterly alone. When the whisper came, it was born of the darkness and returned to it, silent and ineffable. But it was a voice he knew as well as his own, and he nearly dropped his sword when he recognized it.
"Camelot is not defended by swords alone. Whatever I have done, I have done for you, Arthur. Please remember that."