a striking, blonde haired maiden, rushes into frame. she searches the faces of arthur's warriors and grows concerned. she pushes through a crowd of villagers and calls up to arthur atop his horse.
m'lord arthur! where is my brother? did he not ride with you?
her face does not immediately register the grief. she attempts to step forward but stumbles. she steadies herself against the stone wall. her eyes harden as she sees the first of the shackled prisoners: a semi-conscious ash. she flushes with anger and races up to him. she spits and kicks at him as he's dragged along.
foul thing! a pox on your throat! thou art a murderer! a black murderer!
cries as the village women attempt to soothe her.
i pray thee to forgive me. i believed thee one of henry's men. she touches ash's hand. ash turns away
i'm sorry m'lord. please understand.  t'is a cruel time for us. the wisemen say you are the promised one. our only hope against the darkness that has descended on this land.
i think not. i feel that there is reason for your being here. it is no accident.
i still believe that thou wilt help us.
i still have faith in thee. in my heart i know thou wilt still succeed.
m'lord ash! help me! the beast flies off with the fair maiden, soaring over the castle wall and into the distance.
don't touch me! you foul thing!
the promised one will come for you.