Disclaimer: I only own Dayn and this plot…and whatever else I've managed to come up with.
A/N: Prequel to "The Peril of Secrets"…you'll probably want to take a look at that because I'm not sure how much sense this will make otherwise.
Chapter 1: A Beacon of Light in a Dark World
Dayn struggled to hold in a sob, as he woke in the dark, alone and afraid. Hearing the door creak open, he scurried out of bed, running to the corner and shrinking down into the shadows. He huddled there, hugging his knees to his chest as boisterous laughter filled the room.
"Shut up, Bors, you'll wake the boy," a voice whispered harshly. Dayn rocked back and forth, listening to the knights as they entered the barracks noisily. He'd been here for a week now, but he had yet to get over his fear of the older Sarmatians. Galahad was only a few years older, but he followed some of the older ones around, and Dayn was too afraid to tag along. Tears filled his eyes as he thought of his twin brother Orren. Orren, I want you to come back. I'm scared. Dayn hated being scared, but it seemed as though he'd been nothing but scared or angry since he'd been ripped away from his home.
"Oh, sorry, forgot," Bors murmured drunkenly. The others quietly made their way to their beds, or as quietly as they could when they were half-drunk. Or completely drunk, like Bors, Dagonet thought wryly At twenty-one, Dagonet was one of the oldest of the Sarmatians, and he often found himself thrust into the role of chaperone. But there was nothing to be done for it. It would either be himself or Aldric, and since Aldric was away, that left Dagonet to make sure that everyone made it back to the barracks. He led a stumbling Bors to bed before heading for his own bed, trying not to laugh as Lancelot tripped over something on his way.
"Dammit, who left that there?" Lancelot said angrily. Kicking whatever it was out of the way, he threw himself down, asleep the moment he hit the mattress. Dagonet turned to make sure the little one was still asleep, his eyes widening in alarm as he noticed the empty bed.
"Where's the little one?"
"Galahad went to bed hours ago, Dag, and you know he sleeps through just about anything," Gawain said impatiently, ready for sleep himself.
"Not Galahad. The other." Everyone's eyes went to the empty bed, and a chorus of curse words sounded as they realized that if the eight-year-old was missing, they'd all have to search for him.
"He's in the corner," Tristan said, nodding his head in the direction of the corner in which Dayn crouched. Dayn whimpered and put his head down, pretending that if he couldn't see them, then they couldn't see him either. But he knew he was lying to himself.
"Did we scare you?" Dagonet asked softly, crouching down in front of Dayn. Dayn didn't answer, but then, Dagonet really didn't expect him to. The boy hadn't said a word to anyone since the Romans had thrown him at Arthur's feet. "I'm sorry we woke you. We didn't mean to scare you," he murmured. "Come on, I'll tuck you back into bed," he said, holding out his hand. Dayn gazed at him mistrustfully, his lower lip trembling before he slowly placed his hand in Dagonet's.
With a smile, Dagonet led the boy back to his bed and wrapped the blankets snugly around the little boy. Around them, the other knights were turning in, the night's revelry having left them all ready for sleep.
As Dagonet slowly drifted off himself, he heard the boy start to whimper once more. The boy quickly stifled the noise, but Dagonet knew he wasn't asleep. Arthur's going to have to do something. The boy's practically terrified of us. Not to mention we don't even know his name. He made up his mind to mention it to Aldric on the morrow. Aldric was best at talking with Arthur, and besides, he was the oldest. Yes, best let him do it.
Arthur, I'm worried about the boy." Arthur looked up from his desk to see Aldric standing before him. At twenty-four, Aldric was the oldest of the Sarmatians, older even than Arthur himself. At twenty, Arthur had been given his first command, and he struggled daily with the task of training the young Sarmatians. As the oldest, Aldric had come to Arthur already possessing a number of useful skills, and while the others had fighting skills of their own, most of them needed to refine their skills. Well, most of the others. The younger Sarmatians were too young to be much good on a field of battle yet, but their training was coming along quite well, Arthur thought, though there were times when he despaired of Galahad ever learning to wield a sword. I just have to keep reminding myself that he's only ten years old. He'll get better with age, I'm sure.
"Which boy do you mean?" Arthur asked in reference to Aldric's question.
"The little one," Aldric answered, and Arthur's head dropped to his chest with weariness. "He still hasn't spoken?"
"No. He's scared all the time, Arthur. Dagonet told me they found him huddling in the corner last night when they came in. The boy barely eats, Arthur, and if this keeps up, he'll waste away before autumn."
"Very well, Aldric. I'll see what I can do," Arthur answered with a weary sigh. What can I do, when the boy is even more scared of me than he is of his fellow Sarmatians? Being half-Roman, Arthur knew that the boy was unlikely to trust him anytime soon. And I can hardly blame him after all he's been through at the hands of Roman soldiers. Arthur had heard of the incident that had brought Dayn to them, and he knew that it the boy would probably never completely recover from it. "It's almost time for the noon meal. Have the others report to the main hall, and we'll discuss it there."
With a quick nod, Aldric turned smartly and left the room, and Arthur rubbed at his aching temple. Things are never easy around here. Especially when it comes to the Sarmatians.
Caderyn was just rounding the corner, on his way to the main hall, when he heard raucous laughter—drunken Romans, no doubt, he thought disdainfully, and he paused, waiting for them to pass by before he continued. No reason to start trouble if there was no cause to. He groaned when he realized they were settling in, a group of four Roman soldiers holding cups of ale as they sat down at a nearby table.
Caderyn slumped against the wall, sliding down until he was sitting on the ground. He stuck a hand in his pocket, his fingers fumbling for the dice in his pocket, enjoying the smooth feel of the dice as they warmed in his hand. They shiny set of dice was the first thing he'd bought when he'd received his pay for the first time, and he never when anywhere without them. Bored, he gazed at the sky, and finally made up his mind to eavesdrop. It's not like there's anything better to do, he thought with a shrug. Inching closer to the corner, he leaned his back and began to listen in on the Romans' conversation.
"So then, Claudius looks at the bitch and asks her what she'd be willing to give us in exchange for us leaving her boys alone," one of the soldiers was saying. "Twins they were, and Claudius figured we could take them in exchange for her overdue taxes. Until of course, she agreed to give us whatever we wanted if we left them alone."
"Yeah, we could have had a good time," another one began, "except one of the boys threatened Claudius with a dagger. And you know how he is…he killed the boy right there, and the other one went mad. We had to give him a knock on the head before we could tie him up and take him to the boat."
"The boy? He's the one they sent to Arthur?"
"Yeah, Dayn, he's called. At least, that's what the bitch called him. We didn't have a chance to have a go at her, but I'm sure we'll be seeing her again soon," he said with a leer. Caderyn pulled away from the corner, thinking of the scared little boy with sad eyes, eyes that had watched his twin brother die. No wonder he's scared all the time. Sickened, he stood and walked away, contemplating how he could get even with them. For Dayn.
When Arthur finally reached the main hall and took his place at the Round Table, most of the Sarmatians were already seated, and he glanced around to see who was missing. Caderyn, Gawain, and Roland—why am I not surprised? Those three are no doubt finding some sort of trouble, as usual, and Galahad is more than likely being dragged into it, he thought, thinking of the ten-year-old who liked to follow the three older boys around. The trio, as they were known, were sixteen and all had a penchant for mischief. Luckily they also had a knack for getting out of it, so Arthur usually didn't find himself having to run interference for them. No, they only save that for special occasions, he thought, ruefully recalling the time they had taken Roman helms from the armory and replaced the plumes with feathers. There'd been a lot of angry Romans that day, and it had taken a considerable amount of lying to keep the soldiers from learning who the culprits were.
Arthur drummed the tabletop impatiently with his fingers, waiting for the missing boys to show. The little one was missing as well, Arthur noticed, and he hoped fervently that he was with the four boys who were missing. He gazed around the table, looking at the knights who had already arrived. Tristan had brought his hawk to the table again, and it seemed as though no amount of persuasion could convince him to leave the bird in the aviary. The silent eighteen-year-old was currently feeding bits of roast pork to the hawk who took the scraps eagerly. Bors was already well into his second cup of ale, having left the more diluted wine for the others to imbibe. Lancelot, it would appear, had had enough wine and ale to suit him for some time, because he looked rather green when his eyes landed on the food. He looked as though he'd had a long night of revelry, and Arthur guessed that he wouldn't be too eager for a repeat of the hangover he no doubt had.
"So, Arthur, are we going to eat soon?" Arthur turned to see thirteen-year-old Cei staring at him expectantly. Beside him, Roderick looked longingly at the food-laden table as well, and Arthur grinned at the two boys.
"As soon as the others arrive, Cei." Cei sighed and turned to watch Strephon and Uwain throw grapes at each other when Arthur wasn't looking. Gareth looked on in amusement at the two fourteen year olds, considering himself above such behavior, as he was a whole year older then them. Braden and Ingram looked over as well, annoyed by the noise, before resuming their debate over the advantages of a sword as compared to an axe.
"Aw, Arthur, they're always late! Can't we just start without them?" Jarek complained impatiently.
"No, Jarek. We'll eat when everyone is here," he told the fourteen-year-old firmly. Jarek scowled, but Arthur was adamant about it. He wanted them to be a unit, knights who would support one another, and to do that, he insisted that they do things as a group. They needed to be cohesive, and that couldn't happen if the older ones continually did things alone and left the younger ones to fend for themselves.
The doors opened and Gawain and Roland sauntered in, followed closely by Galahad. The two boys were laughing at something, but fell silent when Arthur cleared his throat.
"Boys, do try to come in on time in the future."
"Sorry, Arthur," Gawain said apologetically, speaking for the group. They headed for their respected seats, and Arthur glanced back at the door.
"Where's Caderyn?"
"I dunno. I haven't seen him since he left the barracks this morning," Gawain replied. Arthur scrubbed his eyes with his hands, trying not to sigh as he imagined what sort of trouble Caderyn could be getting into on his own.
"What about the boy? Is he with Caderyn?"
"No, Arthur. He was still asleep when Caderyn left. Someone else was watching him," Gawain said helpfully.
"Where is he then?" Arthur asked, addressing all of the knights. They all looked at one another, and for a moment no one spoke.
"I thought he was with Dag," Bors said finally.
"No. Lancelot was supposed to watch him," Dag said, turning to look at the seventeen year old sitting beside Tristan.
"Lancelot, where's the boy?" The curly haired youth grimaced, looking down at his hands sheepishly.
"Well, I was watching him, but then…well, there was this girl that walked by, and Arthur, you should have seen hershe had these gorgeous blue eyes, and these great…," he trailed off as he noticed the stern look on Arthur's face.
"Lancelot, he's eight years old! You cannot simply leave him alone so you can pursue a wench that strikes your fancy. It's dangerous—he's simply too small to be alone in the garrison. Too many things could happen to him."
"Alright, Arthur. I'm sorry," Lancelot said, looking down once more.
"I'll go look for him, Arthur," Aldric said quietly, standing. Just then, the doors were once again thrown open and a Roman soldier stormed inside, dragging the missing boy in by the scruff of the neck.
"Is this one of yours, Arthur?" the Roman asked with a sneer.
"Yes, as a matter of fact, he is. So you'll be paying me for the damage you've done to him," Arthur said with barely concealed anger as he took in the little boy's split lip and bruised cheek.
"This little whelp knocked over an entire barrel of Grecian wine, and you want me to pay damages because I punished him?" he asked incredulously.
"The boy is in my care, and as such, it was not your place to punish him for anything. Had you simply informed me, I would have paid for the loss of the wine, but now…well, you'll be paying me, now. We'll settle the cost later," Arthur said coldly, clearly dismissing the Roman. The angry man glared down at the boy before slinging him roughly to the floor, and storming back out.
Aldric moved to help the boy stand, but he jerked away fearfully and climbed to his feet on his own, moving nervously to the seat that had been designated for him upon his arrival. He settled into the chair, unconsciously swinging feet that didn't reach the ground, and Arthur smiled to see the childlike behavior in the small boy. He has seen too much to ever be innocent again, but it does my heart good to see him act as a normal child would.
"Does your lip hurt? Or your cheek?" Arthur asked the boy, concerned about the injuries he'd received at the hands of the Roman. The ever silent child said nothing, only shaking his head without meeting Arthur's gaze. Arthur had been assured that the boy was capable of speech from the Romans who'd brought him, but there had been no sign of it from the boy, and Arthur was worried.
"Arthur, it's only Caderyn that's missing now," Roderick spoke up. "So, why don't we start eating," he suggested with a winsome smile. "He'll be along, I'm sure!"
"Then you won't mind waiting," Arthur told him with a smile. Roderick groaned, and crossed his arms across his chest, grumbling to himself about not being able to eat.
Ten minutes later, Caderyn walked in, a pensive look on his usually playful face. He took his seat without a word, an occurrence which was, in itself, unusual. But Arthur chose not to comment as everyone begin to dig into the food eagerly. He watched Caderyn, noticing that Caderyn's eyes went immediately to the boy.
"Dayn?" Caderyn said suddenly. The little boy looked up, waiting expectantly for Caderyn to continue. Arthur's eyes widened, and everyone fell silent as they watched Caderyn smile at Dayn. "I'll be your brother if you want," he told him with kind eyes.
"Would you like that?"
Dayn stared at the boy called Caderyn, feeling some of his fear melt away at the thought of not being alone anymore. He nodded, wondering how Caderyn knew. If I can't have Orren, then maybe Caderyn will be a good brother. Suddenly, things didn't seem so scary and Dayn gave Caderyn a small smile.
Arthur smiled too, as he beheld the first step in a long journey towards bringing together a brotherhood of knights.
A/N: Please read and reviewI'd love to know what you think! I don't know how long this story will last, but there will be at least three more chapters that follow the knights as they grow as a unit and as individuals.