Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from the movie King Arthur, nor do I or would I attempt to profit from writing about them. Also, I am broke and in debt, so if you want to sue me, good luck with that.
Rating: M for mature content in later chapters.
Tristan took his horse to Jols, and removed what belongings he needed for the night from his saddlebags. The squire tied the horse next to the others and would feed, water and groom them. He took good care of them, and they would be well-rested and ready to go in the morning. Tristan carried his belongings to where the other knights were gathered around a campfire. He sat down and pulled out his knife and began to sharpen it.
"Arthur!" Dagonet was returning from checking on the injured boy they had rescued from the dungeon. "Ganis says that there is a healer here who might be able to bring the boy's fever down."
Arthur looked up. "Then get her and see if she can help him."
Dagonet nodded. "Ganis said that she is a young woman, far along with child. Has anyone seen her?"
Lancelot took a bite of his food and said, "Tristan knows her." He glanced sideways at Tristan, who gave him a surly look.
"Then go bring her here, would you Tristan?" Arthur asked.
Tristan nodded, and left the warmth of the campfire in search of the young healer. He checked several campsites before spotting a lone set of footsteps in the snow. He followed them well away from the main campsite to where a small fire burned.
The woman reclined next to the fire, leaning against her pack, which lay behind her. Her eyes were closed and there was a look of utter exhaustion on her face. Tristan was loath to disturb her, but Arthur had given his orders.
"You are the healer?"
The woman's eyes flew open and looked up at the knight standing over her. "I am." She struggled to sit up. "What do you need?"
"There is a young boy who is ill. I've been told to ask if you will see him."
"Of course. I'll be along in a moment". As Tristan stood there waiting, she heaved a weary sigh. With a groan, she began to get to her feet. Tristan, realizing that she was having difficulty due to her state, stepped closer and offered his hand. The woman hesitated and then took it. He pulled her to her feet and when she was up, she quickly let go. She went to her pack of belongings and began to go through them.
"Who is the boy? Is it Alecto?"
"No, another boy. One that was rescued from the dungeon."
Her face tightened noticeably at the mention of that dark place. "What ails him?"
"A fever, I'm told. A broken arm, but one of our knights has set that already."
Having gathered her belongings, she stood upright. "I have everything I need."
As Tristan led her through the forest, she walked along behind him in silence. She reflected upon the moment she had opened her eyes and seen him standing above her. Her stomach had lurched with the same sick feeling she had felt earlier, looking into his eyes. She knew he meant her no harm and could not possibly be attracted to her. She was nervous around men; one could not always tell what their intentions were. She knew that was a perception colored by her own experiences and very much wanted tonot color all men with that brush.
"Where is the hawk?" she asked the knight.
"She finds shelter in the trees."
"I noticed she comes and goes as she pleases," the girl observed.
"She comes when I call, but because she wants to. I do not hood or cage her," replied Tristan.
"She must love you, as your horse does." Softly she added, "you must be a very good man, to command such devotion from your animals."
Tristan was silent. His animals were indeed loyal to him but he did not consider himself a good man – far from it.
"I had a bird once, a raven. I found him, almost dead, and tended to him. He lived but his wing had been badly broken, so he was unable to fly as he should have. He seemed happy with me."
"What happened to him?"
"I was away for some time and when I returned he was gone. Probably dead," she said sadly.
"You could not have taken him with you?"
"Not where I went, no." she said absently.
Tristan and the young woman walked to the fire where the other knights were gathered. "Dagonet, your healer."
"I am Damara," she told the tall knight.
"Thank you for coming, lady. The boy is just this way." Dagonet took her to where the boy lay listlessly near the fire.
The woman felt the boy's face with the inside of her wrist. He was burning with fever. She listened to his heart beating in his chest, to his breathing, and opened his eyes to look at them. She examined his arm, which was well set. She said as much to Dagonet.
"I have much practice setting bones and stitching cuts. But I am not well-equipped to deal with illnesses now," Dagonet said to her.
"I will make a tea for him. It will lower his fever and help the pain in his arm. You must be careful that he not drink too much however. He is young and likely weakened from his ordeal, and monk's hood can be quite dangerous."
Dagonet gave her his thanks, and the woman went back to the fire. As she prepared to make the tea for the boy, a shrill voice rang out.
"Do not let that witch tend to the boy!" They turned to see an older woman who had come up to the campsite. "She will poison him."
Arthur looked at the older woman. "Why do you say that?"
"You endanger the boy's soul to let her give him any of her potions. She's a witch."
"Morag, you know that I am only a healer, as was my mother. The villagers have come to me in the years since she died and harm has befallen none of them."
Morag pointedly ignored the healer and looked at Arthur. "She was imprisoned in the dungeon for witchcraft and fornication. She was to be sacrificed - how is it that she stands here now, when none ever leave God's temple alive? She bewitched and seduced them into doing her bidding. It is the only explanation."
Lancelot leaned over to the other knights and said softly, "Give her a few months and she could certainly seduce me." The other knights snickered, save for Tristan; and Bors replied, "what woman couldn't?"
Arthur looked at the young woman for her explanation in this. "Sir, I am as I say, a simple healer. The boy is in no danger of dying if I do not treat him. But, he will feel much more comfortable if I am allowed to help." Arthur considered the matter and then nodded at the girl to continue with her preparations.
"You are no true Christian to allow such. Pah!" Morag spat upon the ground and walked back to her camp.
As the young healer set to work, Lancelot came over to stand by her. "Why does that woman hate you so?"
"As she said, I was imprisoned for witchcraft – if she believes that what other reason would she need?"
"And fornication," Lancelot said.
"Excuse me?" replied Damara.
"Witchcraft and fornication is, I believe, what she said," Lancelot chuckled.
"I am guilty of neither one nor the other."
"But the perception of both was there? That sounds like a story."
"Not a very interesting one."
"We have little to entertain us."
"It was only a misunderstanding, sir knight. Her husband came to me one day with a toothache. He had been drinking to dull the pain, and wasn't himself." She stirred the tea for a moment. "When I pulled his tooth and the pain stopped he was overcome with gratitude and drunkenly pledged his undying love. He tried to force himself on me and I hit him over the head with a pitcher, slicing his head open. He could not go back to Morag with the truth, so he told her that I had attempted to seduce him. In my anger at his refusal to bed me, I threw a pitcher at him and hit him on the head."
The knights howled with laughter. "I wonder if that one would work with Vanora" laughed Bors.
"Why don't you try it and see?" asked Lancelot. "When she kills you I'll be happy to take your place". Damara smiled uneasily. Men in groups could be dangerous but this easy comradeship the knights shared seemed harmless enough. The quiet knight she had seen earlier in the day was the exception to that camaraderie. He stood on the edges of the campfire listening but not joining in on the conversation. She wondered what made him an outsider among his brethren.
When the laughter died down Lancelot turned back to the story. "What happened then?"
"She confronted me, and was very angry. I tried to reason with her but she would not listen. I lost patience and I fear I was rather unkind to her. I said that her husband was neither young, good-looking, nor a good provider, so what would I want with such a man? She was angered even more, though it would have likely passed in time. Unfortunately he developed an infection, which she would not allow me to treat until he was beyond help. He died and shortly thereafter the guards came to take me to the dungeon."
"Who is she that an affront to her would send you to that pit?" Lancelot asked.
"Morag is a very zealous Christian though some say it is only her way to curry favor. She had Marius' ear and he was always eager to hear about some misdeed and punish for it. She told him that I was a wanton woman who had used witchcraft to sicken her husband out of revenge for refusing me. I doubt that even Marius believed it, but he liked having someone to make an example of."
"Did your husband not plead your case?" asked Gawain.
"I have no husband," she said quietly. She bent her head to her task – she was used to condemning and scornful eyes and sought to avoid them here.
"I'm sorry…I didn't mean…" Gawain stammered. The healer looked up in surprise and then her lips curved in kind-hearted amusement at his discomfiture.
"Think nothing of it," she said gently.
"Well, how did you get out?" Galahad asked.
"Marius showed mercy and released me," the healer said.
The knights exchanged glances. Marius did not strike any of them as the benevolent kind. "For no reason, he just – released you? Just like that?" asked Lancelot cynically.
The healer gave them a smile that was tight and strained before turning to Dagonet with the tea. "First, let it cool, then no more than two swallows. It doesn't taste good so he won't want more than one anyway. He may have more in the morning if he needs it." Suddenly a voice piped up.
"I know why he released her." The men turned to see Alecto who had been standing on the edges of the group listening. He looked at Damara and said, "I remember you. I was very ill, but I remember. I thought an angel came and healed me, but it was you, wasn't it?"
Damara went to Alecto and kissed him on top of his head. "You're a good boy and everyone has always liked you," she whispered to him. "I would have done it anyway. But say nothing more. Your father would lose face if it were known he allowed me to treat you." Damara did not tell the boy that her punishment for that loss of face would be severe.
She turned to leave the group but Lancelot called out to her. She looked at him and he said, "since you are here…would you look at my hand? I blistered it and it has become very painful."
"A blister?" Damara asked him, her eyebrows raised.
"A very bad one. I fear it begins to fester." He held out his hand, and she took it in her own hands. She looked at it, and then pulled him closer to the fire to see better.
"I see no sign of festering," the healer said.
"But…there is some pain…"
"I do have a salve that will promote healing and make you more comfortable." She let go of his hand and went through her medicine bag until she found the salve. She again took his hand and began to apply the salve, which she then wrapped with a clean cloth. The knights watched Lancelot, who grinned back at them.
"There. That should feel better," the healer said.
"Much. You have my thanks, pretty lady. For you," he said as he tucked a coin into her hand.
"And you are welcome, sir knight. I cannot really accept this; as my aid was minimal."
"Keep it. For helping the boy, then." She inclined her head in thanks and turned and walked away.
After she left, the other knights burst into laughter. "I have a blister…I'm in such pain…," Bors moaned mockingly.
"I'm surprised you didn't tell her you had a blister on your pecker," said Gawain.
"No, that would be you. I'm a little more choosy about the women I spend time with." Lancelot laughed as Gawain gave him a shove.
"What about the time you went behind the tavern with that big girl who was married to the red-haired soldier," Gawain said, eyes twinkling. "The one who left her at the Wall when he went back to Rome?"
Lancelot winced. "That, I'll have you know, was an act of charity. I'm a kind man."
"Yeah, the kind who can't keep his pecker in his pants." Gawain laughed.
"Gentlemen," Arthur said in a quiet voice, "I suggest we get some sleep. Morning will be here soon."
At his command, the knights began to break up, wandering off into the darkness to find their beds. Each man hoped that the next day would not find the Saxon army breathing down their necks.
TBC