Soon the Sarmatian knights would be free, and they were on their way back to the wall. After countless dangerous missions, all were light of heart and an uncommon spring manifested itself in their steps. In celebration of their coming liberation, they rode out of formation, riding in groups and talking and laughing among themselves. As they started under a curtain of trees heralding a forest they fell silent momentarily, in brief reverence to any deities or spirits that could be residing there. As soldiers they respected many and mocked few gods regardless if they were their own. Once past the entrance their talking resumed and all remarked at the unusual brightness of the day, especially within the normally dark, brooding forest. As they approached a clearing on the road, a magnificent black horse reared from the side and pranced into the middle of the road where it snorted, tossed its head and pawed the ground, jostling its rider, who was hooded and cloaked lightly, to protect from the light, ever present Briton chill. Arthur, alone the front of the group held up his hand and behind him came to a stop amid snorting and pawing from their high-spirited horses.

Curious at the identity of a lone traveler who would dare stop an unknown group of highly armed men, their talking died as well, as some touched their weapons, in instinctive suspicion. Wary to the last, Arthur approached slowly and demanded the traveler's name. A peal of laughter greeted this request as he replied, "You and your knights have nothing to fear from me, Artorius Castus." With another laugh the rider shook his head, throwing back the cloak hood. A collective gasp issued from the group when dark coffee colored ringlets tumbled from their fastenings. Two eyes mismatched green and brown framed by darker, thick, long lashes and a small, full pair of lips smiled at them from beneath the fleeting brows and high cheek bones of a woman.

"What?" she said, in a rich husky voice "have you never seen a woman on a horse before" "A woman on a horse yes-" started Gwain reasonably "but not one wearing men's clothing, riding astride and armed to the teeth!" finished Bors garnering a chuckle from the knights. Exasperated Arthur sighed and turned back to the woman, "As blunt as my knight puts it, he is correct. It is not every day that we encounter a female such as yourself traveling alone and unarmed…you are alone, are you not?" he trailed off assuming that she must have briefly broken from her caravan or village. "Heavens no", laughed the woman "I am alone, but do not worry, I am quite capable of protecting myself" She dropped her cloak revealing a pair of long thin curved rapiers sheathed crosswise on her back, and a long dagger on a belt slung low around her hips. Her tunic was leather and laced at the shoulders and back over a lighter weight black tunic of cloth. Both fell gracefully covering the beginnings of a pair of close-fitting deep green breeches, which were finished, by a pair of tall sleek boots with which she gripped the horse's sides. Her utilitarian clothing could not, however conceal her petite curvaceous form or inherent grace and languorous ease. Hung on a loop in her saddle a long bow sat, within close proximity to an understated quiver of long grey-flighted arrows. Behind him in the group of pawing horses, more than one jaw dropped at the combination of sleek weaponry and feminine softness. "I see", allowed Arthur, his own curiosity peaked. "I have only one worry, that being should I meet with a group of knights such as yourselves whose intentions were not quite honorable, I would be one well armed woman against seven trained cutthroats". Arthur, seeing the implication, and glad to have the delicate issue solved for him jumped at the chance, "Well I should hate to have you worry and insist that you travel with us to your destination, until which moment we will ensure your safety; what is you destination?" "Hadrian's wall" she replied with a slight smile, which suggested she knew something they didn't "and I would be honored to join you."

Although he found the congruency of their destinations somewhat puzzling, he did not remark, sensing that somehow, it would give her the satisfaction she was looking for. "Well" he surmised "Let's get going then, it'll be dark before we know it" She fell back into their ranks, at which they clustered around her, curious to speak to such a strange woman. In front Arthur rode feeling rather put out, though he didn't know why. "So where are you from?" Gwain inquired, as more of something to say than a question. "Nowhere." She replied bluntly, then elaborated "I have wandered since my childhood and they place I was born no longer exists." With a wry smile he joked "then you share something with us" "More than you could know" she said cryptically, but then smiled and asked "Well I believe I know most of you, but let me check. You are Gwain, you Galahad, you Bors, you Dagonet, and the man in the back looking as if he doesn't trust me, yes, you must be Lancelot" When he looked up she met the most intense searching dark gaze she had ever seen and for a moment feared she would be lost in his eyes. But buoyed by her will power, which was formidable, she raised her own mismatched glance and matched him search for search, silent question for question, the two of them locked in an undeclared battle until their stares were broken by Tristran's reentry from the rear.

With a gaze less wary but just as searching he looked at her then continued his ride to the front where he stopped and conferred with Arthur. "Knights? And my lady" he added as an after thought, "we will camp here for tonight". Without questioning the knights followed their leader and Tristran, the scout to an overhang of trees off the road and pulled vaulted down out of their saddles. Offhandedly to Tristran she remarked "If we are camping here, I will go retrieve my pony, I'm sure I can contribute something to a meal" He looked at her thoughtfully and then replied "Do you want me to accompany you?" "No" she smiled, "My pack horse is quite close, you see I had some suspicion that I would be running into you and your fellow knights" "I see" he said in mock seriousness "and are you a seers woman or priestess of a strange god to have known of our coming?" matching his smile she replied, "No seer or priestess but I am a bit of a scout" As she turned and sauntered in the direction of the tree cover more than one head turned to admire the swing of her hips. "Lady! What is your name?" Tristran called after her "You may call me Camille" she yelled from the other side of the camp before disappearing into the trees. "Is she a enchantress or a spirit?" Galahad mused, half dazed in her wake. "I'm not sure she'll ever give you a chance to find out, I'm afraid" Gwain joked, "She carries two swords to your one!" "Outflanked, outnumbered, and out manned" laughed Bors "And by a woman to boot!"

Lancelot smiled but stayed to himself. He had not completely recovered from the force it had taken to hold her green and brown gaze without wavering. Ruefully he pondered on Galahads question, which, at least for Lancelot, held more candor than its author had realized. Arthur, seeming to sense that his friend's thoughts were as confused as his own walked over to Lancelot and asked, "I have not heard you speak. Normally when a beautiful woman is about you can't stop your mouth." "Galahad may be right, she seems to be beyond human comprehension" to alleviate this deep thought he joked "I wonder if she breathes and bleeds like a human?" " His remark was cut short by a spine-chilling battle cry, halfway between the scream of a hawk and the howl of a wolf. A few of the knights made surreptitious gestures warding against evil. They assumed it was a spirit or strange animal until they heard the clash of metal on metal, the bellow of a man, and above it all, the most beautiful, rich, haunting melody they had ever heard. Glancing at each other, Arthur said as he unsheathed Excalibur, "It looks as though you may find out shortly."

In short order the seven knights were crashing through the trees to come bursting out and stop dead at the sight before their eyes. Camille was circling a huge Woad warrior, her two swords, glittering in the light, their blades stained crimson. As she watched the man warily, she was smiling as the strange haunting melody flowed from her lips. It was a lullaby. The knights were not the only men in the clearing to be transfixed by it. The Woad's eyes were growing black, the pupils dilated as if hypnotized. The other three Woad warriors, slain on the ground they saw, seemed transfixed even in death. Suddenly in a movement almost too quick for the eyes, the petite woman darted in and the hulking warrior slumped to the ground almost gently, as her arms pulled back, cutting the man's throat with one blade, even as she pulled her other free from his ribcage.

Gaping, they watched her turn, and brush her hand over her cheek, where the dagger of one of the Briton warriors had given her a small cut that dripped with dark crimson blood. After cleaning her rapiers on the tunic of one of the dead men, she turned and seeming to see them there for the first time asked "what?" a puzzled look in her eyes. "Did you kill these men?" Arthur asked incredulously. "Yes" she responded evenly, "Why, were they friends of yours?" "Three armed men against a tiny little wench who comes up to my chest?" Dagonet joked, a rare smile cracking his mouth "Quite" she agreed and then brushed past the astonished men on her way back to camp, leading a small black pony with a bedroll and numerous packs tethered to it. Gwain and Bors were first to come to their senses, crashing into each other in their haste to catch up with her. The others were left dazed, staring at the remarkable woman that had smitten them all.