Disclaimer: King Arthur is a myth. So who's griping 'bout a copyright? But I admit Bruckheimer did a good job of sullying the legend, so I give him credit for that. :)

The horse's hooves pounded the wet earth, sending clods of mud and gravel flying through the misty September air. Her chestnut mane, cropped so short it stood on end, fluttered wildly in the wind as she topped the hill and her rider pulled her to a halt. The mare fidgeted, pawing forcefully at the ground and mouthing the bit till foam flew back and flecked her arched neck and powerful chest.

The girl astride her ran a hand down the horse's sweaty neck soothingly, but did not speak. Her golden hair fell in waves past her waist and swung across the cantle of the saddle as she turned her head to look out over the undulating green hills, still steaming from that morning's thundershower.

"Tis a beautiful world," she murmured to her mount, motioning vaguely with a finger toward the foggy dips and murky shadows lingering amongst the beckoning grasses. "Dark, dim, misty. Silver, because there is no gold."

"You must be careful, Arian."

Arian turned to look at her father, assuming a slightly puzzled air. "Whatever for?"

"Because the woads are like a disease in these parts lately. I need your help to watch your siblings and allay your mother's fears."

Arian could not smother the sigh that escaped her lips. "Always my siblings. Why?"

"Because you're the oldest and we need your help."

"With?"

Her father cast her a sideways glance, telling her she should know all this by now.

And she did. And he knew she did.

Arian sighed. "Look—"

But he cut her off.

"Arian, you know we have gone over this before. As long as your home is with us, you will shoulder your share of the work. End of discussion."

Arian retorted with the same, age old argument that no longer carried any spark, but that she still dreamed of one day fulfilling.

"Don't worry. I'll leave as soon as I'm able and not a moment later."

"I believe it." Her father nodded. "But until then, or until you marry, your responsibility is to us. And right now, we need you to watch your siblings so that we are freed to handle other matters."

This time, Arian only ventured as far as another mournful sigh. "Sure," she muttered.

Her father gave her one last look before dropping back to ride alongside his wife. Arian tipped her head a moment to consider the mare her mother rode. A chestnut. Older. Her head hung low and her feet scuffed up a cloud of dust nearly an acre in breadth. But her ears were pricked and her eyes were bright. She was one of the quietest horses in the lot and quite aged. But Arian loved her, just as she loved every one of her family's horses.

Her brothers giggled from the other side of the wagon where Arian's sister was doubtless entertaining them with some new description of these woads. What? Did they really paint themselves blue? Arian wondered at the attitudes of the savage peoples of the north. They could have at least picked some other color. Yellow maybe, or mud brown. That would blend in better. Or, if they were going for effect, they could've chosen red. But blue? Arian had to laugh. Were they sorrowful about losing their land to the Romans or did they just regret the number of warriors that had fallen. Either way, they were in a pretty sad predicament. They must know it, too. Why else would they paint themselves…

Oh, never mind. Arian concentrated her thoughts back on the horses. Fourteen were for sale. Good steeds—Welsh Cobs. She knew none better. Twelve were to be kept. Three of the broodmares, two yearlings, their prize stallion, and, of course, the family horses. That made another six altogether, including Arian's Misty.

Arian reached down to pat the mare's muscular neck. Misty, so named for the dark land from which she had come, had been a very difficult case when she first arrived. She was prone to bucking, rearing, kicking—everything one could imagine under the sun. Arian had been assigned her and had been frustrated to know end with the horse's antics, until, one day, the two came to some sort of unspoken truce. Since that time, Arian had claimed Misty as her own and the duo's relationship had strengthened until they were practically inseparatable.

Arian straightened and her eye caught a dark shape looming on the horizon.

"Hadrian's wall!" Her brother's excited voice rose at a high pitch beside her. Arian started.

"Kynan don't do that!"

"Do what?" He giggled and from the strange way it echoed, Arian guessed the rest of her siblings had joined him.

"Gryn, Ffanci, stop encouraging."

Gryn snickered and put a hand up to cover his mouth. With the other, he dropped the reins and pointed at Kynan.

"He started it!"

Arian rolled her eyes and responded to this somewhat unclear remark with the automatism of a machine.

"Get your dirty hands out of your mouth, pick up your reins, and stop chortling like that before you swallow a bug and your throat gets infected."

"What then?" Ffanci rode up alongside Arian, obviously enjoying the effect she had on their younger brothers. Arian eyed her with some antipathy. Ffanci was marvelous with horses, but she could be so immature sometimes.

"You die. You all die," Arian spread her hands descriptively. "Because it's contagious and probably highly toxic. What think you of that?"

"FUN!" Kynan squealed before he and the others started their incessant snickering again. Then Gryn gave a noisy squeak and pointed at Arian.

"You dropped the reins! You dropped the reins!" He chanted.

"No I didn't." Arian opened her fist to reveal Misty's leather reins looped safely through her fingers. "See?"

Ffanci tossed her hair back in a gesture far much too like an eight-year-old's. Watching her, Arian had to remind herself that her sister was indeed all of thirteen summers.

"You will," she retorted.

Arian opened her mouth, but decided the conversation was below her, and closed it again.

"What do you think?"

Arian didn't reply. After a while, it had become simply routine to shut out the chaos around her.

"She out again," Ffanci rolled her eyes. "Cumon guys, let's ride ahead."

The trio kicked their horses, but as they started to move past, Arian held up a hand.

"Ah-ah! You stay right with the wagons."

"But—!"

"Father's orders. You have a problem, speak with him. I'm just your bodyguard."

With that, Arian fell back into what Gryn, Kynan and Ffanci called her "numb" state. Only Gryn grumbled, "Why does she only notice when we're doing something BAD?"

Arian actually noticed far more than that. She had been playing the "game" of "dummy" for a long time now. Soon, there would come a day when she would be forced to abandon it.

Sorry, I was going to write more. But it is late at night and I'm getting tired…I'm afraid if I add onto it now, it will become even more cheesy. :) Anyway, if you don't mind, I'd really appreciate some feedback. I know the knights haven't come in yet...but don't worry, because I think they will in the next chapter. :)

Thanks for reading!