A Married Woman
Introduction
The Wife of a Roman Captain
The North winds were cold that night, they howled and shook the house making it groan eerily. The moaning of the walls was so loud that she was sure the house would be ripped from its foundations and sent into oblivion. But storms didn't frighten her; they never had, even when she was a child she'd revelled at the sight of rolling grey clouds and thunder storms that lit the whole of the world for only one precious moment. She lay in the middle of the large bed, curled into a ball, her arms wrapped around her knees bringing them as far up to her chin as she could. The candles which she kept burning all night long cast long shadows from the furniture and as the flame flickered menacingly, she felt a shot of fear run through her body.
She did not like the dark.
After another mental battle of deciding whether or not to get up to try and cure her restless mind which was keeping her from a peaceful sleep, she stood up, her white night dress falling around her ankles. As her bare feet made contact with the stone floor, it prickled with cold, sending a shiver up her spine. Without hesitation, she picked up her shawl and wrapped it around her arms, trying to find extra warmth which seemed to have deserted her body. Slowly she walked to the door, her slender fingers curling around the door handle and opening it without a sound.
Most people would think her lucky. A huge, extravagant country house, servants at her beck and call and a rich, successful husband. These were all things which many people desired and many women would probably kill for, but Norah had never wanted such things. She had never wanted any of it.
The house, although large and beautiful, was cold, unfriendly and although she had lived there for over a year and a half, alien to her. It was very Roman. High ceilings, marble, stone columns, sharp edges…such cold materials, grey and smooth…comfort was hard too come by…just like her husband.
Norah was not a Roman, she was as far from Roman as a person could be. Norah had not always belonged to riches, in fact she'd been the daughter of a Sarmatian knight and too her mothers pleasure, she'd been blessed with an extremely beautiful face. She'd caught the eye of the Roman Commander, Philippus Victricius, three years ago whilst out walking with her mother and father. Of course, when her father told her of the rumours, which amused him greatly, she flat out refused. She knew that the only reason her father was here, was because of the Roman's and she detested them for it.
But Philip, as he was known to most, always got exactly what he wanted, so he waited.
The day Norah's father died a part of her broke and she was never the same again. She could still remember the other Knights arriving home from battle, their faces creased in pain, many holding wounds that were bleeding badly, some supporting one another and many being carried by their horses…already taken by God. He left behind three illegitimate children and Norah had no right to his name. She was not entitled to her father's money because, although her father loved her mother and always stayed faithful, her mother had died long before he father and not been married to him. And so all hope was lost, until Philip came to her door. The deal, as he so gently put it, was for him to claim her and marry her. He'd then pay for her sibling's to grow up safely at the fort. But with one sacrifice. She would obey him and leave with him, probably to never see them again.
There was nothing she could do, Norah loved her siblings. So she agreed.
It was not a bad life, just a lonely one. She knew of course that if she was ever caught with another man her husband would kill him instantly. Philip was a Roman Commander; they lived by honour and would die by the sword. If she dented his honour so horrifically, she'd be the one to die by the sword.
As she walked down the corridor silently, a candle burning brightly in her hand, she felt the chill of the wind wrap around her ankles and she shivered, pulling her shawl around her tightly. With a sudden and sharp gust of wind that whistled through the house like a scream, her candle went out and she jumped, fear suddenly creeping through her nerves.
"My Lady!" She jumped turning around to see that a small group of her servants stood in the corridor, she squinted in the darkness at them "My Lady we were just coming to wake you!" A man hurried forwards, his expression panicked "…What do we do?" He questioned frowning, his hands were shaking and she blinked in confusion
"Whatever is the matter?" she asked looking up at him sympathetically
"The Woad's my Lady…they've come."
Lightening flashed across the land as she stood on the balcony, her eyes searching the landscape and it revealed the threat advancing on the house but there was no need for confusion; she already knew exactly who they were coming for. Her eyes flicked to the unmoving bodies of the guards by the front gates and she pursed her lips and felt herself beginning to panic. As she looked down at the approaching men, one of the woad's below looked up at her and she felt a breath escape her chest in an icy gasp. She turned suddenly snapping into action and walking back into the corridor to see her servants confused and scared, many holding one another, terrified that this would be the last bit of affection they'd feel on this Earth.
"You need to take what you can and go!" She exclaimed, everyone exchanged wide eyed glances, turning too each other with worried murmuring.
"I will stay and guard you my Lady." A young servant named Nate stepped forward, he was eighteen and extremely kind and she smiled a little but shook her head.
"No, leave me to them. They want me, not you. So go." The servant's looked at each other nervously before there was a large bang as the Woad's reached the doors, attempting to knock them down. The unmistakable sound of weapons being draw scratched at her ears, the guards inside were getting ready to defend the house. She looked at the servants desperately "Go! That's an order!" The servants exchanged glances before some began to move, one man picking up a smaller girl, he turned to her as others began to leave.
"…Bless you madam," she smiled weakly,
"Now go!" She said again, he nodded to her and they began to run down the corridor and too the stairs, ready to leave through the back entrance. Without waiting another moment, she ran quickly down the corridor to one of Philip's rooms, knowing full well what was in there and pushed the doors open with a slam. Breathing heavily from her run, she looked towards the wall. There hung two swords and her jaw locked determinedly before she walked forwards, taking a step up onto a table and letting her fingers wrap around the hilts of the swords. With all the strength in her, she pulled them from their brackets, almost stumbling backwards but regaining her balance and jumping down from the table.
Her father was a Sarmatian Knight; he did not let her grow up defenceless. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting her hands feel the weight and running a finger down the blade. It had been years since she'd held such a weapon and she suddenly felt connected with her father, something she hadn't felt in a long time.
She took a step backward, her eyes wide. She felt the long heavy sword in her hand and she turned, her eyes following the fire which set her house ablaze in a brilliant blaze of light. The beautiful building was being eaten alive by the flames. Her breathing was harsh and gasping, almost as if she could no longer catch her breath. A variety of cuts, scratches and gashes covered her pale skin and semi dried blood was staining her arms and torso. Her ears picked up the sound of a sword slicing through the air and she turned just in time, her weapon meeting contact with her new opponent with a clash. She locked eyes with this new man and fought forward, swiping her sword and disarming the man before thrusting the sword through him. She spun in a circle, her dark hair whipping around and slicing through the skin of another attacking warrior and sending him to the ground.
She gasped, jumping out of the way and hissing in pain as another sword nicked her, slicing through the material of the plain dress she'd changed into too fight, she cried in anger and threw herself at the man, stabbing him through the chest and sending him to the ground.
Suddenly she felt pain as a leg connected with her ribcage, winding her and sending her to her knees, she gasped looking up but received harsh smack to the face sending her onto her hands too meet the Earth. She suddenly felt someone grab her hair, yanking her head backwards and exposing her throat. She felt the sharp metal being pushed to her windpipe and she let out an involuntary gasp, eyes wide with fear coursing through her. This was it. She was going to die.
"MY LADY!" She heard the shout of a guard shout, attempting to come to her rescue but then heard the disappointing sounds of a sword cutting him down and sending him into eternal sleep.
"KILL HER!" A woad shouted "NOW!" She swallowed, closing her eyes and accepting her fate.
But before she could, she heard the familiar sound of hoof beats thundering over the earth. The shouts and cries of the woads filled the air and with a jolt she suddenly felt her captor let go of her, screaming in terror before the sound of a sword swiped down and he sunk down beside her with a thump.
Her eyes sprung open and she looked up, breathing harshly, her eyes wide in the shock of cheating death and she watched as the woads scattered like children, running back towards their forest. She pushed herself off the ground, arming herself once more. Whatever scared them must be worse than hell itself. She watched as the horses stopped, the silhouetted figures on horse back making sure the woad's had run off before turning their attention towards her.
"Where is the Lady Eleanorah?" she blinked, swallowing nervously at her full name and pointing her sword at the man who spoke, keeping her eyes cold and like daggers. He was a built man with black curly hair, his voice was commanding, his eyes sharp. He wore shinning amour and rode a horse that was restless, seemingly ready for a fight. She locked her jaw, gritting her teeth. She remembered that she was not wearing the dress of a lady and of course, Ladies did not fight.
"Dead." She said bluntly, eyeing the solider "What did you want with her?" The man's eyebrow rose,
"Wonderful. We came all that way and she's dead." One of the others spoke up, the voice coming from a man who appeared physically smaller than the rest with brown curly hair and a beard which wasn't fully grown. As she looked at them all, she felt eyes on her, she blinked and realised that even though all the Knight's were looking at her, something else was making her feel uneasy. It was then that she really noticed him, she hadn't at first. He sat at the back, watching the scene unfolding between his leader and the unknown woman. His hair was dark and some of it hung in front of his eyes which were seemingly cold but held an unknown spark within them. He was watching her silently, his eyes evaluating something about her character which she disliked immensely. She felt unprotected and exposed in his gaze, as if he could see straight into her soul and see all the good and bad she'd caused in her life.
"My name is Arthur." Her attention snapped back to the leader "I came here to take her to Hadrian's Wall. To her Husband's safety." Norah could not help laughing, she smiled, "If the Lady is dead woman, I do not see why you find it so amusing," The Knight, Arthur, said unimpressed with her lack of respect.
"Why?" She said with a smile "Because it is amusing. Her husband does not care for her safety," She sneered "Or he would have come himself." She bent down and yanked the twin sword she lost track of in the fight from a dead Woad. She turned and her eyes evaluated the house for a moment, watching it burn in all it's glory. She turned and began picking her way over the dead bodies, looking to see if any were still living.
"And it's Norah by the way," She said walking past the Knight's one by one who all exchanged glances "No one calls me Eleanorah apart from my father…and sometimes my husband if he is angry enough with me." She looked over her shoulder at them "And as for the 'Lady', clearly Sir, I am not one." She turned towards the Gates of the house then, striding towards them.
"Wait." She did not stop but kept walking, "I said wait!" She stopped for a moment before turning around and looking at the man, who rode slowly towards her, his horse seemingly unaltered by the dead beneath it's hooves.
"If you are Lady Eleanorah-"
"Norah." She cut in,
"-Then you must come back to Hadrian's Wall with us." She shook her head
"Sorry, I have to find my household,"
"Look, your servants can wait." One Knight said, he had long blonde dreadlocks and was quite tall which you could tell even when he was sitting on top of a horse. She let out a short laugh. "They know and are part of this land Lady, the Woads will not harm them."
"They are my friends. They cannot defend themselves like I can and that is why I am going to find them," She turned to leave and heard the sound of boots hitting the ground and angry quick footsteps. He then grabbed her arm and she turned viscously, glaring at Arthur.
"Look. My Knight's have been riding for days to rescue you. You could at least show them common courtesy. You can either come with us willingly or I will drag you with us. Understood?" She raised an unimpressed eyebrow and slung his arm off her.
"How dare you talk to me in that way. I am not a usual woman Sir." She hissed angrily "I will not be ordered around by men, so you can stop trying. I did not ask you or your Knights to rescue me. I did not ask my husband to rescue me. I am going to find my people and you are not going to stop me!" She hissed defiantly. Bors laughed loudly,
"I like 'er!" Dagonet gave him a look which silenced him and the Knight's heard their leader exhale angrily.
"You are really trying my patience." He said through gritted teeth,
"As you are mine." She spat back, her hands curled into fists at her sides "I am not leaving."
"Right. Dragged it is then." He said, his patience snapping as he dragged the swords from her hands, "Dagonet." He said a name and she watched as a huge man, taller than she'd seen, climbed off of his horse. Her eyes widened slightly as she looked to Arthur whose defiant expression had not changed and without hesitation she punched Arthur across the face. He was so surprised he let go of her arm and she tried to run but before she could reach a safe distance away, Arthur grabbed her around the waist, pulling her back. She shrieked in surprise as she was picked up off the ground and placed in front of the huge man who reached down and easily slung her over his shoulder, she screamed in utter frustration and horror of being so man handled and struggled furiously as she felt her hands being tied behind her back.
"Whois this woman?" Lancelot said perplexed, looking at Gawain who shrugged.
"She's the wife of Commander Philippus Victricius apparently." Lancelot raised an eyebrow as Galahad, who was close enough to Gawain to hear him, pulled a face at the Roman name.
"…She's got sprit…unlike a Roman." He said watching as Dagonet walked back too his horse with her over his shoulder, she was currently attempting to get him to let her go which wasn't working.
"I AM NOT A ROMAN!" She thundered as she passed them and Lancelot looked towards Gawain, who smirked,
"Clearly, that's because she's not."