A/N: Alrighty then, took the first chapter off and reposted it since last time my A/N got distracted and wandered off somewhere without the story. This story will contain an abundance of vulgar language, crude humor, explicit sexual acts and innuendos and whatever other craziness I decide to toss in there. If any of that offends you, this is not the story for you. I appreciate any and all reviews, if you do or don't like it please let me know why so that I can improve or correct any issues. I do not own anything related or pertaining to King Arthur, his knights, his round table, legend or the 2004 blockbuster smash hit. If I did I would be doing something a whole lot more fun than typing right now with everybody's favorite scout (mmm mmm good). The only things I own are my OCs and my plot, Which I have to fight the OCs for on a daily basis. BTW in my wonderful little AU the knights all saved themselves from the Saxons (so my OCs didn't have to become Mary Sues and do it for them), story takes place approximately 6 months after the final fight.

Chapter 1

(In which our heroines encounter some slight difficulties...)

"Stupid damn rain! Stupid damn Britain! Stupid damn cold! Stupid, stupid stupid!"

I laughed silently to myself as I watched my 18 year old daughter stomp around our campsite and complain about everything from the weather to her hair. I personally couldn't find any fault with the latter, it was thick, black, stick straight and once again pulled into a high ponytail. Sighing quietly, I came to terms with the fact that we would have to live somewhere populated now that I'd adopted her. She liked boys and was far too pretty for me to be comfortable with that though. Especially now that she'd "finally grown tatas" as she liked to remind me. And Lord help me if the child got any taller, she stood close to my 5'10" already. It was a bit disconcerting to not have to look down to see into her mischievous blue eyes any longer.

"Bitching about it isn't going to do you any good you know. Why don't you make yourself useful and go see what that crazy aunt of yours is doing?"

"She's down at the river putting on make-up. Hint hint Mom."

"Hint hint, what?"

"You could do with a bit of make-up yourself, you know"

"We're in the middle of a damn forest. In a campsite that's more mud than anything else at the moment. Haven't seen a single soul in days and you want me to put on make-up? What the hell for?"

"You never know who you might meet!"

"Ugh! I'm gonna go get the horses ready. Go get Ezra and finish packing. Please."

"So I take it that means no dress up Quinn today?"

"Jezabelle! Your aunt! Now!" I finally yelled, exasperated. I loved my daughter and sister. Really and truly I did. But there were times (like now for instance) when they made me want to pull my hair out by the roots.

Thinking of pulling my hair out made me realize that it was still laying in one big, curly, red mess down around my hips. I quickly buried my hands in it and twisted it into a large braid down my back, tying it off with the hair band I'd had around my wrist. I should have cut the shit before we'd left. Ezra and Jez had definitely had the right idea there.

Ezra's was practical and still "uuber sexy" (her words, not mine). It fell a bit below her shoulders and had pieces in the front cut short enough that the golden blonde strands floated haphazardly around her heart shaped face. She was by far the smallest of us three. The top of her head barely hit my shoulders; but, I couldn't think of anyone else I'd rather trust my life to. While not biologically related we'd been together since, at the age of two, she'd shown up at the orphanage we'd both spent the first part of our lives in.

The same orphanage where I'd met Jez. She was the epitome of the childhood Ezra and I never got to have. I loved her for it. And I would do everything in my power to ensure she got to enjoy every single moment she had left of it. That's why I had adopted her just before she turned 18. She would be very well taken care of if anything were to happen to me. And in my line, or former line I should say, of work that was a very real possibility.

I realized as Roper nearly pushed me to the ground by nuzzling me with his head that I had been off in my own little world for some time. I gently kissed his nose as I reached for the curry comb to brush him down. I was still awed by the fact that I'd managed to snag such an amazing horse from the auction we had attended a week prior to leaving Texas. He was beautiful, a 17 hand buckskin gelding, and probably the most intelligent animal I'd ever come in contact with. Taking a moment as I finished with him to study the horses next to him. Jez had decided on a spirited liver chestnut gelding. They fit each other, both difficult to control and energetic to a fault. However Beau, as he was now known, did have slightly better manners. Ezra's horse was a whole different kettle of fish though. She'd picked a beautiful gray Arabian gelding who would have been just as happy as a lap dog. His name was Puppy. She'd actually named the damn horse Puppy. Shaking my head I looked around the camp to make sure everything had been packed and any evidence of our stay had been erased before calling out to Ezra and Jez...

"Would you two please hurry your skinny little asses up?"

…...

"Something doesn't feel right. We never get lost Quinn, you know that. And I feel lost."

"I know." I replied quietly. Ezra was right. Sometime during the night something about our surroundings had changed. Not so much the way they looked, but the way they felt. Before the forest had been liberating. It meant no more people, no more work, no more blood. Now though, it was suffocating. Like the air had become too thick to breathe. We had slowly made our way out of the forest and onto a loosely packed dirt road that was riddled with wagon wheel ruts...wait! Wagon ruts?

"Ezra...am I seeing things or are those really tiny wheel ruts?" I asked in surprise.

"Really tiny whee...oh. Yeah. Yeah they are...Quinn... why are they so tiny?"

"I have no idea but my feelings about this place have gone from 'not so good' to 'let's get the fuck out of here, now!' real quick, fast and in a hurry."

Both Ezra and I were looking around quickly, trying to discern whether there was anything else out of the ordinary when Jez decided it was time to start singing.

"Baby monkey. Baby monkey. Riding on a pig baby monkey..." the weird voice she'd been singing in slowly faded out when she noticed the death glares she was getting from myself and Ezra.

"What? I like that song. And besides you two were being all super serious and fun killing again." Jez pouted.

"Well gee Jez, maybe thats because there is something seriously fucked up and fun killing about where we are now and we're trying to figure out what it is. Sing in your head if you feel the need to start belting out power ballads, please." Turning to Ezra I asked "Remind me again why I love her?"

"Because she's just as crazy as we are."

"Oh. Yeah. Right. I remember now."

"I'm not crazy! And you love me because I'm the most fun, amazing, smexy person you know!"

Ezra and I both laughed as I replied, "no I'm pretty sure that has nothing to do with it".

Our laughter died out as quickly as it had begun when a group of men carrying swords came tearing out of the forest 100 yards in front of us.

"Are those...do they...are they fucking holding swords Mom!" Jez stuttered and yelled.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck. Not good. Not good at all. Bad, bad, bad." I was talking incoherently to myself, and I knew it. "Okay you two, ride as hard as you can that way" I said throwing my arm wildly behind me in the opposite direction of the "bad guys". "And find help, I don't care if its just damn farmers with pitchforks, find someone and do it fast!"

"And what the hell are you going to do? Sit here and look pretty and hope they don't fucking dice you up like a goddamn tomato?" Ezra shouted right back in my face.

"Ezra, we both know damn good and well I'm hardly defenseless. I'll hold them off long enough for you to get a safe distance away and then I'll follow you." While I'd been speaking I had tucked my jeans into my boots, easier access to the throwing daggers I had hidden there, and four of the extras I had hidden in my saddle bags were now tucked firmly in my belt. "Go! Now, damn you both!" I yelled, drawing my largest dagger out of its sheath and turning to face the oncoming men. I quickly realized I was being ignored, my orders blatantly disregarded. So I turned, grabbing the bridles of the other horses, and then backed Roper from between them. Slapping both of them on the rump with the ends of my reigns I yelled once more, "go get help now!".

When I turned back to my attackers they were much closer than I'd anticipated so I did my best to calm my racing heart, as I'd been trained so long ago. It was one of the first things Ezra and I had learned when we'd been "moved" to the горькие края* orphanage in Novosibirsk, Russia. When facing opposition, a calm heart makes for a calm mind. Pulling a deep breath into the pit of my belly I charged forward yelling nonsense at the top of my lungs before tossing my dagger into the neck of the first man I saw.

Before I heard the sickening thud of his death I released another of my daggers, quickly executing a second man. I realized then that I was going to run out of daggers long before I had finished the last of the men. So I made a split second decision, not usually a good idea if your mind works like mine, slid down from Roper's back and grabbed the discarded sword of my first kill.

"Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ! These things are fucking heavy!" I said to myself as I experimentally swung it around in front of me. Of course I had never so much as held a sword in my entire life. But by george I'd figure out how to use it pretty damn quick if I didn't want to die.

…...

"Dammit Quinn when I get my hands on you I'm going to strangle you to death!" I yelled over my shoulder while trying semi-successfully to gain control of Puppy as we raced down the road away from Quinn and the fight. Beside me Jez was grinning from ear to ear as she leaned over Beau's neck and shouted words of encouragement. Crazy fucking child; she'll be the death of us, I swear to it. At least she could ride though, and had the common sense to slow her breakneck speed as we neared a bend in the road. It was a good thing too. If she hadn't I would not have even noticed the change my thoughts were so focused on worrying about Quinn. I know she's plenty capable of defending herself, and of killing. It's what we were trained to do. But that doesn't mean I liked the situation any more.

"Ezra! Look!" Jez shouted pointing in front of her where seven mounted men were cantering towards us. "What do you think? Friend or foe?"

"Fuck if I know, but we're fixing to find out." The men were almost directly in front of use by the time I'd finished speaking. Of course before I could open my mouth to address the man who sat slightly in front of the others, Jez had already opened hers.

"Are you good guys or bad guys?" The only answer we got to her question were slightly confused and mistrusting stares. "Well? Are you good or bad? Because my Mom is back there fighting off a miniature damn army and she needs help and if you're not good guys who will help then get the hell out of my way so I can find someone who will!" She shouted. Gods bless the child, I really could hug her right about now.

Without reply the leader spurred his horse into a run, followed closely by his...well I'm not sure what they are...his goons I guess. Leaving Jez and I to stare open mouthed after them until we pulled our heads out of our asses and took off behind them. What came to pass then I can barely decipher. One second Quinn was standing alone swinging a sword, "seriously Quinn? A fucking sword!", and hacking at anyone who got within her reach. The next, the seven men were by her side fighting off her attackers with much more success. When she realized they were there, and that they were helping, she tossed the sword to the ground and jerked two of her daggers from her belt. I registered briefly that she was wearing the biggest shit-eatin' grin I'd ever seen, before she moved towards a large blonde attacker and taunted him.

"Come on pretty boy, lets dance." He rushed towards her bringing his sword down on her right shoulder before she could dodge out of the way. Of course all it did was piss her off. Bad idea buddy, bad bad idea. She had taken the opportunity to move forward and bring the dagger in her left hand up, burying it deep in his bowels before jerking it out and shoving it into the back of his neck.

The fight was over when his body hit the ground. Neither of us were bothered by the sounds of his death. They were simply white noise to us, we'd heard them so many times before. When she turned to me her smile faded and was replaced by a grimace as she growled out,

"More men with fucking swords! I said farmers with pitchforks! Not big manly men wearing ridiculous clothes holding more fucking swords! I hate swords goddammit! Argh! Hate them!"

"Well excuse the fuck out of me for being concerned about you and bringing the first kind of help I could find! I promise next time I'll just let you get yourself killed! You're so fucking ungrateful! You know what? Come here and I'll off you my damn self!"

Neither of us cared much about the men who were now staring wide eyed at our exchange.

…...

I slowly shook my head, hoping to clear the haze of battle from it. I vaguely registered that Ezra was yelling at me, but it was getting harder to think clearly as the pain from my shoulder made itself known. There are a lot of people who would consider "seeing red" in battle a bad thing. I, personally, thought it was pretty damned handy. Especially when injured.

"Ezra."

"Stupid inconsiderate git!..."

"Ezra!"

"All you fucking care..."

"Dammit Ezra, shut it! I'm sorry, alright? I wasn't thinking clearly. Thank you for getting help so quickly." Turning I addressed the men standing beside me, "and thank you for helping. I appreciate...wait where's my kid?" I could feel myself growing frantic as I spun around searching for Jez.

"Over here Mom." She replied, trotting towards me leading Roper. "Apparently somebody decided grazing was more important than you." laughing she handed me his reigns.

"You're okay?" I questioned. When she nodded I turned my attention to Ezra, "and you?"

"I'm fine, never got close enough to the fight to even toss a knife."

"Oh. Well that's good. You're all okay?" At the volley of "ayes" from my saviors I let myself relax. Then I noticed they were wearing armor. Actual armor. As if the damn swords weren't bad enough! "Where the hell are we?"

"In Britain Milady." Replied one of the men. He was tall, around 6'2" I'd guess, with enticing green eyes and wavy brown hair. And, of course, he was wearing the most god-awefull armor I'd ever seen. Roman armor.

"That's all good and lovely but what year is it? And who the hell ARE you?"

In response to my demand for names one of the most handsome men I'd ever laid eyes on came forward slightly; as he cocked one of the brows over his stormy brown eyes it was almost lost in ridiculously curly dark brown hair. "Who, pray tell, are you lady? Do you not think we deserve to know your names after we saved you?"

"Pfft. Saved me, my ass. I was doing just fine by myself thank you very much!"

"Dammit Quinn! Quit being an ungrateful ass, again! I apologize for my sister, she is apparently not in her right mind." Ezra informed the handsome man as she glared pointedly at me. I probably should have been ashamed of myself but I was in too much pain to care. "My name is Ezra Harris. This is my sister, Gracie ..."

"Ezra!"

"As I was saying, this is Gracie Quinn Colbert. I suggest you call her Quinn unless you enjoy pain." Ezra shot me a look that clearly said "see if you'd keep your damn mouth shut I'm plenty capable of handling things" before pointing to Jez. "And her daughter Jezabelle Colbert."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Enough with our introductions, back to the questions!" I nearly shouted.

"It is the year of our Lord 467, lady Quinn. And I am Artorius Castus, the king of Britain." Green eyes replied calmly. Although, he appeared as shocked at having to answer my questions as I'd been asking them.

"You're...and its...which means they're...oh sweet Jesus. Maybe I got hit a lot harder than I thought...of course this is all related to blood loss...thats it...has to be...I think I'm going to sit down now..." the last thing I remember before the world faded to black was that the ground sure felt a lot like really strong arms and smelt like leather. I liked it.

*Russian for Bitter Edges