TWENTY TWO

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After a long walk, Nimue reached the ruined castle of lovers Festa and Moreii, Graymalkin's castle. Through his withered gardens that were once fruit trees and orchards of chard and fennel Nimue hopefully looked for Merlin, but he was not there.
After a few minutes discouraged and sitting on a rock, voices alerted her senses. What she saw next she couldn't believe it.

“Squirrel stay away from him! Run!”

“No” he answered flatly.

That response surprised Nimue while the hooded man, who was next to the boy, kept his distance towards Queen Fey and looked around uncomfortably as if listening to something.

“What? What are you saying Squirrel? He is the Weeping Monk.”

“Lancelot saved me, Nimue.”

“Lancelot?! Now you call it that?” she said annoyed, “He is our enemy!”

“He is my friend!”

The perplexed monk turned to the boy while a mixture of fear and fury possessed Nimue who could not understand what was happening. Before she could react the ground began to vibrate.

“Riders. They have followed us” the monk whispered.

“Who?” she asked uneasily.

“The Red Paladins.”

The Weeping Monk drew his sword and prepared to fight while Nimue stood motionless on the spot.

“What are you waiting for?! Take your sword!” the monk specified to Nimue.

The young woman's muscles contracted paralyzed in silence.

“Nimue, where is it? Where is the sword?” Squirrel asked altered when he saw that she did not draw her sword. 

The monk turned abruptly towards her when he did not hear her answer concerned about the great horde of horsemen that was to come.
The numbers did not favor them. A man and a boy armed against dozens of Red Paladins who after Carden's death now belonged to the Trinity.

“Don't be stupid and run!” Nimue ordered.

Before those horsemen arrived and saw them, they ran through the ruins of Graymalkin to hide.

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