Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own King Arthur, or anything related to it. However I do own Deidre, Gahariet, and their children and in-laws, minus recongizable characters.
The village filled with the sound of distant drums. Most of the populace couldn't hear it, but I could. My family suddenly stopped in the middle of their chores, weary of the noise coming from the distance. 'The time has come, Deidre', I thought to myself. More than a thousand years of planning had brought us to this point. Quickly I retreated into my home and packed a few changes of clothes. Helena, my second daughter, calmly assembled the villagers, instructing them to hide in the forest.
Hopefully, when the Romans came into town, most of the people would be gone. I highly doubted it, though. Many of the villagers refused to leave. This land was their home, Romans or no Romans. They simply would not be whisked away to safety. If they had to live under Roman rule, they had to. Same went for death. I couldn't blame them, but over a thousand years of life and seeing loved ones die had taught me that my home could be replaced, people couldn't. If this Roman governor was as dangerous as I had heard, I wasn't taking chances. I ignored the foolishness of my neighbors and headed toward the woods. Gahariet, and my three oldest daughters elected to stay behind and help those who were foolish enough to stay. Everyone else in my family and the few village people who valued their lives left with me.
Not long after we left the village, Guinevere's husband took hold of her and began dragging her back to the village. Guinevere refused, saying she had a child to think about, and if he were smart, he would do the same. He refused to see reason and slapped her across the face. I directed Victor and Marcus to lead the people into the brush and went to deal with my wayward son-in-law. He raised his hand as if to slap my daughter again. I grabbed his wrist, twisting it behind his back. I hissed in his ear, "Go back to your death if you want. But leave my daughter and grandson behind."
Releasing him, I waved Guinevere on to the brush. When she was safely out of sight with her boy, I punched her husband in the gut before catching up to her. Within an hour's time the Romans arrived. I watched the battle from the brush. A young knight ran a sword through Gahariet, but as soon as he pulled his sword free of my husband's body, Gahariet gasped for breath. He then, realizing defending the villagers was useless, pulled my daughters out of the fight and headed off the battlefield, in the direction of Hadrian's wall. The young knight didn't notice and attacked Guinevere's husband, slicing him clean through. No one was close enough to stop Guinevere from heading into battle.
I turned my head away. Everything had gone according to plan thus far, but this I did not foresee and I could not bear to see my youngest hurt in any way. Cries of pain, the screams of dying men, war cries echoed in my head. Ianto, my second youngest, crawled over to me and held my shaking body next to his. My body racked with silent sobs. Years of living, of planning could not prepare one for the reality of losing a child. I glanced over to Victor and Faolán who had death grips on each other's shoulders, unable to look away from the bloody fray that seemed to consume our loved ones. Then I literally saw their relief when they realized that their wives were safely away from the battle.
Soon the voices quieted. Only then did I dare to look out upon the battle ground. Guinevere lat injured in the rubble, but the slightest movement of her body proved her alive. Slowly as Roman knights spread through out the village rubble, I made my way toward Guinevere, and helped her to stand up. Guinevere refused to heal herself. Over the years she had claimed mastery over the healing abilities all of my children had.
Sometimes it helped her blend in, but other times, such as this, it was just plain foolishness. I urged Guinevere to heal herself, "Have some sense, child. Your son needs his mother to be strong."
As if on cue, Lucan pulled Ianto with him, running toward us. Guinevere pulled her son close, arguing, "I am strong enough to care for him as I am. Mother, I have had a vision. In my Vision I had injuries, such as the ones my body retains now. A strong man, a knight, half Briton, if my mind does not play tricks upon my poor soul, cared for me. He gazed into my eyes like a man possessed. It is he I want for my next husband, and hopefully I'll have no need for a third. These wounds, this Roman army, are my chance. My chance to make him love me as much as I already love him."
I nodded, reluctantly seeing my daughter's logic. My energy was wearing down, the stress of the battle finally catching up to me. I glanced around, and when I saw no one looking at us (odd, seeing as we were four people standing in the middle of a ruined village that was to be rebuilt by Romans within a matter of months), I muttered a quick prayer, begging the mother goddesses for strength. I felt the holy glow surround me. And then I saw him, the new Roman governor, approaching us.
