A/N: Hey everyone! Thank you for reading and special thanks go out to Anne Becker, Saxongirl345, Scottishgal12, SilverLight05 and LegolasIsMine for their lovely reviews. I will try to update this story as much as possible, because it's only the beginning! xoxo

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Chapter 2

Standing atop a wooded hill, a lone Woad peered out into the vast fields as the Roman caravan disappeared out of sight. With aching muscles and laboured pants, Lourdes, with what was remaining of her fading strength, raced towards the figure, catching her breath only when she reached his side. The Woad continued to look out into the distance, as if he intently eavesdropped upon a whispered conversation. Holding a wooden staff that was fixed upon the ground, he shifted his gaze towards Lourdes after a few moments, a frown becoming evident upon his wrinkled, blue-painted face. He left an arm outstretched towards the young Woad, which she shakily took, and pulled her in an embrace. Tucked underneath his shoulder, she wrapped herself in his cloakskin, letting out more tears that she had been trying to suppress.

"Merlin, they spared me. Why would they spare me?" Lourdes questioned with much sorrow and anguish lining her voice.

"Do not question the will of our gods, Lourdes." The leader of the Woads replied soothingly, removing his cape entirely in order to completely wrap it around her. "Perhaps Arthur means to exhibit his capability of mercy."

"What mercy he and his men have!" she spat coldly, misty eyes meeting Merlin's, "They slaughter our people without a thought, without care of our troubles. Romans invade our land, and they, who are not even of Roman blood, come to their aid!" she paused, pursing her lips. "I curse them. Every one of them."

"Sister, there you are!"

Both Lourdes and Merlin twisted their head towards the sound of a deep voice behind them. Instantly they recognized Leofric, Lourdes' brother of twenty and six years, striding purposely towards them. Commander of a Woadian battalion, his rugged exterior was no surprise to those around him, battle-hardened by his many years of service to Merlin and his fellow countrymen. As he strode closer, Lourdes could see that on his hard, handsome face was an expression a mixture of concern, relief and question. Suddenly becoming nervous at his presence, she bowed her head, unable to meet his questioning blue eyes.

"Merlin," Leofric greeted cordially, placing a clenched fist upon his chest as he curtly bowed, "I heard news of an attack south of the Wall, and my men and I came as quickly as we could. I have two hundred men behind me, ready for battle, and another hundred on their way. What orders do you give me, sir?"

Merlin slowly lifted his head to meet eyes with the tall, muscular warrior. He replied succinctly, "The battle has taken place and has ended."

Leofric furrowed his brows in confusion, taking a cursory glance around them, "But where are the wounded? The salvaged weapons?"

"There were no survivors," Merlin took a step to the side so that the plain where the battle had taken place was now entirely visible to Leofric, "…save one."

Leofric's eyes widened at the massacre, taking several harsh steps forward near the edge of the hill in order to gain a better view. "Who?"

"Me."

Merlin gave out a deep sigh as Leofric's eyes widened even more, his blazing orbs landing upon Lourdes. "What?" he blinked in utter disbelief. "You…"

"Fought." Lourdes quickly finished for him, her gaze now unflinching as she met her brother's. "Yes, I did."

Unable to speak, let alone take in the shock of his only sister on the battlefield, Leofric turned away from the pair, resting his arm upon a tree trunk in order to keep himself steady. Lourdes gave Merlin a pleading look, obviously at a loss for what to do. In an attempt to dissuade Leofric from becoming more enraged, Merlin walked between them, staring at the back of Leofric's head as he informed him, "Arthur and his knights spared Lourdes. For whatever reason, Leofric, the gods have spared her. Think only of that."

Utterly furious and no longer able to control his rising emotions, Leofric spun around to face Lourdes, an accusatory finger pointed her way, "You should not have been on that battlefield in the first place! What were you thinking? You deliberately disobeyed me!"

In a moment of courage, Lourdes stepped forward, looking upwards at her brother. "Stop treating me as though I were a mere child! I am not that little girl anymore, Leofric. I am grown now, and I can take care of myself, whether you like to think so or not!"

"What a wonderful display of your latter statement today, sister! You disobey me, then you almost get yourself killed!" Leofric pointed a shaky finger towards the battlefield, emphasizing his words. "You could be rotting with them as we speak if the Sarmatian knights had not spared you!"

"What do you expect me to do?" Lourdes retorted in the same tone as her brother, somehow able to keep her voice steady. "Sit back, watch and do nothing while our countrymen are slaughtered? Do you know how much it pains for me to see one of us fall? Do you know how much the families of those men and women grieve, suffer? These are harsh times, Leofric. You of all people should know this."

"And you thought to be heroic, then?" Leofric's chest puffed in obvious upset, jaw clenching. "But all you did was attempt suicide! This is no mere archery range or tournament, Lourdes. You think you can fight, but you are not as experienced as our fighters, let alone these Romans and Sarmatian knights!"

"I want to protect our peoples…"

"You can protect our peoples by guiding them and keeping them safely defended, not by running blindly upon a battlefield. What will happen if both of us are taken by this war? What will happen to Lufian, who is naught but nine summers? All that he has now is us. He needs you, Lourdes, especially when I am on duty – not only as a sister, but as a mother."

Lourdes' eyes brimmed with tears – not only brought about by Leofric's heated admonishment for her actions, but for the fear of losing her brothers as well as her grief over Melot. Sinking slowly to the ground, Lourdes wrapped the cloak around her tightly, head hung low. Unable to think of a response, she blurted out, "Melot is dead."

Leofric cursed under his breath, running his hands upon his face, then through his long, dark-brown hair. His heart heavy at this exchange, Merlin stepped forward, placing a hand upon Leofric's slumped shoulder. "We have lost many of our countrymen today, Leofric, but this war is not over yet." Merlin shot Lourdes a sympathetic glance. "I will leave you to comfort your sister. In a few moments we shall gather the dead and hold proper rituals. Then, at nightfall, our Council shall meet and decide our next course of action. I want you to be there."

As Leofric gave a curt nod of understanding and a low bow, Merlin took his leave, walking deeper into the woods. Leofric's eyes then fell upon Lourdes' trembling form, taking a seat beside her. "I apologize, sister. Forgive me for being so blunt and harsh. I was blinded by my concern for your well-being, as I always am. You know that I only think of your safety first." When he received no reply, not even a slight nod, he continued, "Melot was one of my best comrades and one of our most loyal men, and I deeply grieve with you for his loss. I will ensure that he receives a chieftain's service."

"One of Arthur's knights killed him." Lourdes recounted bitterly, as if not hearing a word of what her brother had just said. Gazing upwards with tear-filled eyes, she finished, "I will avenge his death, brother. I swear it."

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In a bustling tavern within the central fortress of Hadrian's Wall sat the great Sarmatian knights of legend. Fatigued from their long journey of successfully retrieving Bishop Germanius and safely escorting him to Hadrian's Wall, they were finally able to take a rest, enjoying the sweet taste of ale, dagger throwing, dice and, of course, women. With so many missions to complete over the years, they had almost forgotten what it felt like to be at their leisure, to do as they pleased without worrying what the morrow would bring.

Upon Galahad's lap sat one of the tavern maids, her attention fully his, utterly engrossed in his tale.

"Yes, we fought the Woads. Hundreds of them today." He recounted darkly, though giving the tavern maid a slight smirk. "But tomorrow, after fifteen years, we officially receive our freedom…and this will all just be a bad memory."

She furrowed her brows, leaning closer to him almost worriedly, "I thought the Woads controlled the north of Hadrian's Wall."

The dark, curly-haired knight gave her a slight nod, "They do, but they occasionally venture south. Rome's highly anticipated withdrawal from Britain has only increased their daring. They want their country back, and will continue to fight long and hard until they have it once more." He paused, taking a languid sip of his bitter drink. "If they are British rebels who hate Rome, then maybe I should join them. My hatred for these usurping bastards knows no bounds."

Spotting Lancelot from the corner of his eye, Galahad politely motioned his leave from the young tavern maid. Following his fellow knight to the open exit of the tavern, he called out lightly, "Lancelot, where have you been? You have not drank nor flirted much tonight. Quite unlike you, I must say! Does something trouble you, friend?"

Lancelot twisted his head to meet Galahad's concerned emerald eyes. "To be honest, Galahad, I cannot rightly point to the origin of my worries as of late. Sometimes it seems 'tis only a feeling of some sort, though I fear grows daily. It is as if my instincts grow louder and louder, wanting to be heard, warning me about an impending danger. I cannot halt it."

Galahad gave his comrade a slight frown, patting him sturdily upon the back. "Do not worry about it too much, Lancelot. Look at Gawain, Bors, Dagonet, and even Tristan. They are enjoying themselves this night! We are free men in the morrow." The young knight rightly beamed at this, raising his cup. "Think of that and be merry!"

Lancelot forced a smile, nodding gratefully at Galahad's council. As the young knight wandered off, Lancelot's smile diminished. What he did not speak of was that in his mind lingered the Woad that they had spared almost a month ago. He could not explain it, but her burning eyes, her forlorn expression…it haunted him. It made him unexplainably uneasy. The anguish that she had shown towards her dead comrade – slain by his sword – seemed to have triggered a feeling inside of him that he had not felt in years: remorse. Seeing his bloodied hands, sheathing his bloodied sword…he had indeed become a monster. What Lancelot did not understand was why he felt like so now, after all these years of service, after all the men he had killed. How bizarre it was, after he felt so immune, so desensitized by his…duty. Nevermind. It will all end tomorrow, he thought optimistically to himself, taking a sip of the drink that lingered in the palm of his hand. When I wake in the morrow, it will all be over.

Suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a song:

"Land of bear and land of eagle

Land that gave us birth and blessing

Land that calls us every homeward,

We will go home across the mountains.

We will go home, we will go home

We will go home across the mountains…"

Lancelot's heart constricted at this: the thought of home. He noticed that the expressions on his fellow knights' faces were identical to his. He knew they felt the same longing – the same pain - that he did. Finishing the last of his drink, he placed it upon the table, slightly hanging his head. He wanted the song to end, the night to end…this life to end.

He wanted to return home.

As the song ended, Arthur's entrance was met by a chorus of enthusiastic greetings. Although the rest of his comrades were in good spirits at his appearance, Lancelot could see by Arthur's unflinching expression that something was not right. As his knights looked at him expectantly, Arthur began, "Knights, brothers-in-arms, your courage has been tested beyond all limits. But I must ask you now for one further trial…"

"Drink!" suggested Bors, the oldest of the knights, to which Galahad chuckled.

Arthur's stone expression did not falter as he continued, "We must leave on a final mission for Rome before our freedom can be granted." He was met by more incredulous laughs, but forced onwards, "Above the wall far in the north there is a Roman family in need of rescue. They are trapped by Saxons. Our orders are to secure their safety."

"Above the wall is Woad territory," the shaggy-haired knight, Gawain, declared disdainfully, "Woad territory that is being conquered by hundreds, possibly thousands, of Saxons!"

"To try and get past the Woads and Saxons in the north is insanity." Lancelot stated with a stone expression, jaw clenched. "Arthur, this is a mission more dangerous than any that we have undertaken, and look how many we have lost already!" he briefly paused as he took a much needed breath, receiving nods of agreement from his fellow knights. "We have not fought the Woads north of the wall. It is suicide!"

Galahad's expression of anger became evident on his handsome face. "Our duty to Rome - if it was ever a duty - is done." He continued bitterly, "Our pact with Rome is done."

"These are our orders." Arthur replied, trying his best to persuade his comrades.

"I am a free man!" shouted Bors, his index finger digging upon his chest, "I will choose my own fate!"

"These people need our help." replied Tristan calmly, rationally. He glanced at each of his knights in turn. "You choose death for this family?"

"No, I choose life," Lancelot cried angrily, "and freedom!"

"We are knights. What other purpose do we serve if not for such a cause?" Arthur paused, giving out a deep sigh. "Our freedom will be granted to us the moment we return. I will make sure of it, I promise you."

"We have Arthur's word." Dagonet professed, glancing at each of his comrades. "That is enough for me. I will prepare."

After a few more tense moments of silence, the knights dispersed. Their freedom, which was almost at their fingertips, was rudely snatched from their grasps once more.

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A/N: Ooh and the plot thickens! Well, not really, but it will in due time! What'd you think? xoxo