Ever Homewards
Author: Inwe Tasartir
Rating: M (for safety)
Prologue: 452 A.D.
By 300 A.D., the Roman Empire extended from Arabia to Briton. But they wanted to more. More land. More people's loyalty and subservient to Rome. But no people so important as the powerful Sarmatians to the east.
Thousands died in that field. And when the smoke cleared on the fourth day, the only Sarmatian soldiers left alive were members of the decimated, but legendary, cavalry.
The Romans, impressed by their bravery and horsemanship spared their lives. In exchange, these warriors were incorporated into Roman military. The second part of the bargain they struck, indebted not only themselves, but also their sons. And their sons and so on, to serve the Roman Empire as Knights.
And so they came every few years taking with them only the able and strongest of Sarmatian boys back to Rome. It was there that they learned the art of Roman military and added that to their knowledge of Sarmatian fighting. If they survived the training they were sent across the empire under a Roman and commander to fight for a cause not their own with the promise of freedom in fifteen years.
Most did not live to see their freedom, and many of those who did chose to stay with their brothers in war, having formed a close bond with them within the fifteen years of service. So few returned each year to the tribes of Sarmatia. So few. That it why when the time had come for my brother to be summoned into the service of Rome, my young heart clenched with grief and despair.
"Father!" A young boy yelled climbing down from his horse and approaching an old man.
"Father…" he repeated, "They are here." With those words the old man looked to the hills in the west. On the hill was a man dressed in the official Roman military garb with a small band of boys.
"The day has come." The boy's father looked at his son's horse and patted its muzzle. "There is a legend that fallen knights return as great horses. He has seen what awaits you, and he will protect you."
"Lancelot!" A young girl ran of about nine summers ran from the hut and into her brother's waiting arms with her long black hair flowing behind her.
"Lancelot." His brown eyes went down to her deep green ones that were brimming with tears as she slightly pulled away from him. She handed him a carved rat necklace and held onto him tighter burying her head into his chest.
"Don't be afraid," Lancelot whispered to the sobbing girl, "I will return." With those words he placed a tender kiss to her temple and turned to mount his waiting horse.
With one last look at the sad face of his sister, Lancelot turned and galloped toward the waiting officer and fellow Sarmatian warriors.
"Lancelot!" This time it was his father who called out his name. His right hand rose to the air as he cried out the Sarmatian war cry, "RUUUSSS!" And soon the entire tribe were crying out. But Lancelot had his eyes focused on one small figure standing with tears in her eyes.
As he turned to join the Roman officer and small band of boys that image was forever imprinted in his mind. "Mariah," he whispered as he trotted away from his home, "I swear I will return only for you. Only for you my dear sister."
His post was Briton—or at least the southern half. For the land was divided by a seventy-three mile wall, built three centuries before us, to protect the empire from native fighters of the North. It was there in Briton that my brother was under the command of the Roman commander Artorius—or Arthur. It was there that he was taking me.
'Home is behind, the world ahead,
And there are many paths to tread.
Through shadow, to the edge of night,
Until the stars are all alight.
Mist and shadow, cloud and shade,
All shall fade, All shall fade.'
J.R.R. Tolkien
Author's Note: How's that for ya'll? I'm sorry that it's a bit word for word-ish and that I'm not exactly accurate with the movie (my dad lent it to a co-worker and I can't get it back until next week…grrr) The only thing I have to go by is the script, which tracy137 so kindly gave to me. I also changed some things to make Lancelot seem more sentimental to the young girl in the film…creative license don't cha love it?