Sodden.

Soaked.

Sopping.

Drenched.

Doused.

Drowned.

Horrid.

Galahad could list at least a hundred words to describe the way he currently felt.

The ground squelched with every step the companions took. To any onlookers they probably resembled drowned rats (or in Gawain's case a drowned cat), their faces a perfect image of concentration as they attempted to navigate the dark, marshy terrain without landing on their arses. The icy mist wafted around them caressing their goose flesh like a lover's touch in the inky darkness. The moon was missing from the sky tonight, a gravely missed friend.

"Curse whoever's idea it was to send us out on this stupid errand!"

"That would be Rome… or Arthur," Gawain responded, rubbing his hands together, attempting to warm them up.

Galahad grumbled, muttering curses under his breath, "Would it kill the Gods to grace us with some warm, clear weather for once on this blasted island?"

A bitter chuckle left the golden warrior, "Come now Galahad, this is Britain. The place is as hospitable as its people."

Now that was something the young knight could not dispute. If it wasn't misty it was foggy, if it wasn't that it was raining or at worst snowing, sometimes even an unpleasant combination of all the conditions at once.

Mud caked boots and armour, clothes clung to freezing bodies like a second skin and both men were near willing to give their right hands for shelter, fire and food.

"Are you sure we're going the right way?" Galahad questioned, growing ever suspicious of his friend's navigational skills. The duo had been walking since they'd been separated from the others in a Woad ambush through a marsh. Their mounts had spooked mid-escape, bolted and thrown the experienced riders soon after, leaving them to wander about the countryside in search of their brothers-in-arms.

Tristan was the Scout for a reason. The silent one was the only one that could navigate this wretched island, weather regardless, of that Galahad was sure.

No response came as they continued along the sludgy trail.

The veil of black mist cleared and in the distance, the glow of a fire appeared from between the trunks of a circle of trees. An answer to weary prayers it would seem. Cautiously they make their way toward the camp, going against their usual instincts. Gawain only carried with him a dagger, as his sword was on his saddle, Galahad however did have his sword. This was the first form of shelter the 'brothers' had seen since they began wandering and both were too tired to protest.

What they found in the refuge surprised them completely. Nestled in the shelter of four strong trees, a girl with blazing red hair sat, glaring into the dancing flames as fat crystal-like beads slid down her rosy cheeks.

Silence was her only company.

"Such comfort is that of a fire," she spoke as if addressing someone, loud enough for the knights, who stood concealed behind one of the trees, to hear.

"Comfort enough," called the blond warrior, "Is silence the only company you keep, my lady? Or would you be so kind as to allow, my friend and I, to encroach on your hospitality."

"Come, warm your bones. I bid no harm if you bid me none."

A collective sigh of relief escaped near blue lips as the two sprawled out beside the fire. The three strangers sat inconspicuously observing each other in the awkward silence, unsure of what to say or do.

Gawain sighed, "I mean no offense when I say this, but what is a girl doing in the wilderness alone?"

The bitter chuckle that escaped her lips proved there was reason behind her previous tears.

"What use would such knowledge be to you? If I am a girl then you are mere lads too. Surely it is strange that you as well wander the wilds?"

She had a point, even if her berating disgruntled both knights.

"My friend and I were separated from our group," Gawain explained, ringing the water from his hair, "We are trying to get home."

"Oh and where would that be?"

"Hadrian's Wall. We're knights." Even Galahad was surprised to hear his own voice answer the question and the expression on his face confirmed that. Gawain shot him an unimpressed look, before turning back to observe the girl.

"Ah, Sarmatian's… Well it seems you've gone and got yourself quite lost for Hadrian's Wall is not in this direction at all." The fair-skinned lass paused and seemed to weigh up her options, "My little brother was taken by bandits… I tried to stop them, but I was knocked unconscious. When I awoke, there was a note pinned to the door, nothing more, and nothing less." She hugged her knees to her chest, tucking her bare feet under the cover of her tight brown dress, "I have to find him, before they kill him…" Her voice trailed off as tears pooled in her glimmering sapphire pools. Her face suddenly lit up, as though a spark had ignited, "Would you help me?"

The two knights shared a look of surprise, "Would we, pardon?"

"I mean… I could make you a deal. I am in need of assistance in saving my brother and I thought since you are knights…" she took a breath, "You need to get home, right?"

Indeed they did, Gawain had explained that a moment ago, Galahad nodded.

"Well I need to save my brother. If you help me, I'll take you to the wall myself."

"If we got lost so easily how do you think you'll be able to find the way back?"

"Very well, if you don't want to, I couldn't entirely blame you these parts are said to be cursed. Some even speak of a horrid beast that resides in the hills…"

"A horrid beast?" Galahad nearly laughed.

News of a horrible beast is what had sent them out on this fool's errand to begin with. Reports of a dragon that terrorised villages had made it to Arthur's ears and in response, Arthur and the knights had ridden out to investigate. It seemed almost planned that they had ended up caught smack in the middle of a Woad ambush in the process.

Try as he may, Galahad could not recall a day that had been this wretched all year. Everybody knew dragons were only folktales told to keep children from wandering off. Why Arthur had even bothered with the silly stories was a mystery to him.

"-we will help you on your quest."

"We will?" Galahad asked having missed the first part of Gawain's response.

Gawain shared a hard look with his kin as if trying to emphasise the importance of what he was saying, "We help her, she takes us home."

"Wonderful!" the girl smiled, placing another log on the fire, "We shall continue first light tomorrow."

The two warriors nodded and watched as the young maiden sprawled out on the grass, as though it were the softest bed and went to sleep.

Tomorrow, but for now, the two men were quite happy to join their acquaintance in sleep…

The first rays of sun tickled the sky, turning black to blue as its golden glow kissed the hills and valleys alike. The taste of wood smoke hung in the air as the birdsong called in the new day.

"Seems as though the Gods were listening to you," Gawain's gruff voice muttered as he came to stand beside his friend.

"Indeed."

"You two!" the voice of the girl called from behind them. The Sarmatians turned in time to catch two bread rolls as they flew towards their heads, "Eat up. The last thing we need is your stomachs giving us away."

"Well somebody isn't a morning person," Gawain muttered under his breath as he tore at the golden roll.

"That's rich coming from you! For it would appear, Sir, it was I that rose with the sun, not you." The fiery girl bit back as she extinguished the remaining coals of the fire.

The golden knight chuckled, "Gawain. My name is Gawain," he gestured to his friend, "That's Galahad."

The pearl-skinned goddess nodded as though committing the names to memory, "Well then Sirs Gawain and Galahad, if you are finished perhaps we could be on our way. The fog that shielded us has left with the night and if the Woads know of your predicament, I dare say they will be searching for you."

Gawain while displeased by her response, masked it with a charismatic smile, "Very well milady, but surely if we can part with our names you could entrust us with your own?"

Galahad rolled his eyes, finishing off the last of his breakfast as he stood watching their new acquaintance.

Grabbing a bow and quiver of red fletched arrows from their hiding place, she froze looking out at the path ahead.

"Lucie," the ghost-like whisper hung in the air. Suddenly, in Galahad's eyes, the bizarre, goddess-like girl had gained mortality… Lucie, the fiery maiden whom strode away from the sanctuary of the grove like a woman possessed.

Gathering their now dry cloaks from their place beside the pile of dead coals the knights hurried after her, easily falling into stride beside the bow-wielding girl.