Chapter One: A Great Promise

Disclaimer: King Arthur and his famous knights are not mine. This is just a story. Amanda and many of the characters are mine. I am currently rewriting the chapters of this story and its sequel.

The dry and cracked feeling in her throat woke her. Her eyes were weary and irritated, but she opened them to see a grey sky above her. She told herself it was only a dream, though her heart knew it wasn't the case. Amanda examined her surroundings for proof that the last few days had been a nightmare.

Of course, she found none.

The Lord only knows how long I have been asleep, she thought. It has been many days since she had last seen the Wall. Many days of pain and anguish while in the hands of the Saxons. Many days of hoping someone would save her, but no one had come to her aid.

The Saxon soldier guarding her was fast asleep, his hulking figure against a tree. He had carried out his duty well, shielding Amanda from Saxons that saw her as a prize to be taken advantage of. Their leader had given him specific instructions: "None of my men are to sleep with one of her kind. She is of Arthur's Court, and I will not have our kind mix with her lineage." Had she been in another situation it would have made her smirk.

Her mind was racing despite the thorough pounding in her head. She was trying to remember what route they had been travelling since she had been taken, but her mind was clouded with exhaustion and hunger. Amanda ran her cold, slender fingers through her wild, curly blonde hair in exasperation and defeat. Her left knee pained her, having been cut in punishment for fighting the scouts of the Saxon army that found her. All thoughts of escaping left her mind as her hand subconsciously nursed her knee.

"You've awakened," a man hissed from somewhere to her left. Her grey eyes searched wildly for him, and she was greeted with a deep, gruff laugh. Then, to her surprise, he came around to her font so she could see him. It was the Saxon leader, and Amanda looked at him with disdain etched into her brow. "Did you sleep well?" he asked.

"Why do you keep me here?" she demanded. The man stopped and took a moment to answer her.

"I want your king. You are a pawn in my plan to conquer him," he answered.

"King Arthur does not even know I exist. I am of no significance to him," Amanda challenged. The man laughed again. It was bitter and cynical and filled Amanda with a form of dread.

"Your King vows loyalty to any citizen in peril. You undoubtedly have a family who will seek aide in finding you," he said. He leaned forward and brushed a curl from her face, her skin burning in hatred.

"I am an outcast from the Roman Empire, I have no family who will look for me!" Amanda lied, her skin turning red in the heat of her anger. The man smirked at her.

"Stop lying, you filthy Camelot whore." With that he pushed her to the ground and turned away. Slowly, but surely, tears rolled down her pink cheeks.

Many miles from where Amanda lay, Arthur sat in a meeting with his Advisory Council reviewing his plans for the day. He drank silently from his goblet, eyes focused on the stone beneath his feet rather than the men speaking.

"As always," said one, his tone indicating his distaste for what was to follow, "you're hearings begin our day. The list of subjects who wish to speak to you is quite long." Arthur looked to Gurshion, the older of his two advisors. He possessed a particular air that men with certain intelligence have – it was his intelligence that encouraged Arthur to take him on in the first place, but Arthur held very little love for the man. The mind behind Gurshion's dark and deep set eyes, underneath his balding head was convinced that Arthur was too open with his subjects, and that Arthur was too accessible to all of these people. Gurshion believed that the subjects who came in search of the King's aid refused to accept responsibilities for their own problems.

"Gurshion, I will caution you here. I will not argue with you again about the importance of having the citizens of Camelot to have right to ask their King for help," Arthur warned, his green eyes leaving the older advisors face and looking expectantly to Kylian. Kylian hurried to change the subject, his voice filling the room. Arthur was not really paying him any attention, and instead turned his eyes to the doors leading into his throne room and reception hall. He walked to his seat, and settled for the long hours ahead of him.

"Let them enter, Kylian," Arthur said. His deep voice was even and quiet. He briefly turned his eyes to the tapestry of Guinevere. Her physical form had long gone, but sometimes Arthur mused that he could feel her near him when things were difficult.

Many men and women and families later, Arthur was confronted with his last family. He did not recognize their faces, but he greeted them just the same. There was a man, who was past the prime of his life with grey hair and a weathered face. He used a cane to help him walk, and on his arm was who Arthur assumed to be his wife. She was younger than the man, though still shrunken around the shoulders. Her eyes were still a bright grey, and her cheeks held the last bit of their rosy bloom. On the other side of the older man stood a young boy only nine or ten years old. His eyes were pale blue, like his fathers, and his hair dark golden waves that hung into his eyes. His chubby cheeks had a similar rosy quality as his mother.

"Why have you come before me today?" Arthur asked gently, sensing some kind of despair or amongst this family. The woman looked at her husband and took a deep breath before answering.

"Seven days ago," she began, "my eldest child, Amanda, went out into the field on a walk. She walks often went on walks far beyond the Wall, sometimes gone for a night or two. She has never been gone this long before. Your Majesty, we believe our daughter is in some sort of danger, and are hoping you would help us."

"Has she any reason to leave your home? To run away?" Arthur asked, his brow furrowing in confusion and concern. The man and woman looked from one to the other, but shook their heads.

"We have not been here long," the man said, his voice raspy. "We sought refuge here from a Roman outpost in Gaul, where I held a position with the Church. She has nowhere to go, and she would never leave her family behind."

Arthur nodded in comprehension, and noted the small tear escaping from the woman's eye. The boy was too young and undoubtedly had little experience in tracking. The man was unable to make such a journey, even if he had the capabilities. As Arthur flashes his green eyes to the woman again, he felt his heart wrench in her grasp. All he could do was search her face, and found only sorrow and honesty in her words. He had known this sorrow. He had felt it when Guinevere had died not two years ago – a sorrow and overwhelming feeling of someone missing. Guinevere had gone somewhere he could not follow.

He had heard rumors from his scouts that there was a small but ferocious Saxon force moving in the area just beyond his borders. They had come too close, and Arthur had been cross to hear that they had gotten by his outposts. They had moved undercover of trees and darkness, not pillaging any of the towns that lie around the Wall and Camelot. It was highly unusual Saxon behavior, but he was concerned that this girl had been taken by that force. After a long silence from the king, Arthur arrived at a decision.

"I shall help you find your daughter. It hurts me to hear that a citizen has gone missing, particularly one so new to Camelot. I know the sorrow that you bear, and I shall take action immediately," said Arthur as he rose from his seat. He walked to the woman, and placed a hand on her shoulder, "I shall find your daughter if it is the last thing I do." The woman took in a shaky breath of relief, gushing thanks and praise. The man gave Arthur a trace of a smile.

"Thank you, sire! Thank you!" he said, bowing to Arthur.

"Bring my sister back to me," said the young boy, taking his mother's hand.

"I shall," replied Arthur, "I promise you."