Sara lay there silently and unmoving. She no longer trusted anyone. The monks had beaten her here and there, but no longer took her from her cell. She gave them no satisfaction or information. They did not realize it, but they were slowly killing her. Her wounds had long since become infected and her fevered mind showed her nothing, but frightening images of her village. A voice brought her out of her thoughts and into reality.

"Not my God," the voice boomed. Sara struggled to sit up. She hissed in pain when she felt the dried blood on her side crack.

"This one's dead," another man said.

"By the smell they are all dead," a younger sounding man said. She looked out of her prison cell. The men looked as those of Rome. She saw a large man pull the small boy out of his cell. Suddenly she came face to face with a dark haired man.

She didn't care how much pain she was in. She scuttled back to the furthest corner and stayed there, not taking her eyes off of him. He drew one of his two swords and hit it against the gate that held her cell closed. "I'm not going to hurt you," he said softly as he came toward her. She pressed her back against the wall.

"Get away!" she screamed. She was terrified. He tried to reach for her arm, but she instinctively kicked at him. She was in great pain, but all she wanted was for them to leave her alone. Again he tried to grab her and this time succeeded. She was acting like a wild and frightened animal.

"What have you found Lancelot?" a young knight said as he approached them. This man watched as he girl struggled to get out of him arms.

"Let me go!" she screamed again and again. Lancelot carried her out of the dark and dreary prison. After what seemed like an eternity she finally saw daylight. Lancelot laid her down on the snow covered grass and then moved to where a few other knights stood.

Sara saw this as an opportunity. She made a run for it. She couldn't go very fast and her body felt like it would give out on her any minute. She looked behind her only to see two knights running after her. She stumbled and fell to the ground. They were almost instantly on top of her. She recognized one of them as Lancelot, but the other she didn't have a clue. Lancelot held her down tightly, while the other drew a dagger.

Sara struggled even more when she saw this. "Let go of me," she cried. Suddenly her hands were free. Another knight was riding toward them.

"Galahad, take her back to Arthur," Lancelot commanded. She struggled with the knight until she didn't have any strength left. This time she was placed in a wagon with the same man that had found the small boy.

She put moved as far as she could away from the man, but it made no difference. After he had tended to the boy he came for her. Her eyes grew wide with fear once again and would not let him come within two feet of her before she started to yell at him.

A little while later another man came into the wagon. "Arthur!" the gentle giant exclaimed.

"Dagonet, how is he?" Arthur asked, referring to the boy.

"He burns, brave boy," the large man said.

"And the girls?" he asked as he looked over at them.

"The woad will live. The other I do not know. She won't let me within three feet of her, Arthur. She is not a woad either. By the looks of it she's Sarmation.

Arthur began to move toward the woad woman. He carefully unwrapped her bandaged hand. "Some of your fingers are out of place. I need to push them back," Arthur said as he inspected her dislocated fingers. The woman tried to recoil her hand, but Arthur held on. "If I don't do this there is a chance you may never use them again." She allowed him to pop them into place, but she cried out several times before he finished. She began to talk to him quietly. Sara didn't pay much attention. She stared outside the carriage. She let her mind wander to a place where there was no pain or death.

She jumped when she felt a hand touch her dislocated shoulder. It took her all she had to keep from crying out. She turned to see Arthur staring back at her. He placed a hand to her forehead. She was burning with fever. "Dagonet," Arthur called to him. She move to get up, but was pushed gently back to the floor. Her blue eyes darted from one man to the other.

"Get away from me," she said her voice filled with fright.

"We only want to help you," Arthur said as held her firmly.

"Let go of me," she ordered. Dagonet carefully inspected the wound on her side. Poking and prodding at the wound. "I said Leave me alone," she yelled at them. She lashed out at them. Kicking and screaming at them to let her go.

"Stop!" Arthur yelled in a commanding voice. She stopped almost instantly. "Hold still," he said in a softer tone. Arthur felt her shaking. He gave a quick nod to Dagonet and then continued to speak quietly to the girl.

He cleaned the lashes on her back before turning back to her side. Carefully and quickly he lanced the wound and allowed the infection to seep from the wound. She was trembling from both pain and fear. Once he was sure the wound was clean he carefully wrapped the wound. " The fever should go down now that the infection is gone," he told Arthur. Quietly, he left her side and went back to the boy.

Arthur let go of her and moved to sit beside her. "Your shoulder is out of place," he told her. When he reached for it she moved away. Again he reached for it. This time he grabbed it and before she knew what was happening pushed it back into place. Sara collapsed due to the pain. "Get some rest," Arthur commanded as he left, but Sara just turned her head and looked out of the wagon. All the while tears streamed down her face.