Thanks for the reviews. This is a short chapter but it was to my liking to leave you in suspense. Hope it entertains.
"What is your name?" Lancelot turned his head to the side, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. They were on their way back to the fort, leaving the caravan of supplies and the Romans to fend for themselves in the unpredictable British wilderness.
"Kayleigh," the woman behind him answered over the pounding hooves of the galloping horses. It was only a matter of time before they started asking questions she thought. Warriors were instinctively suspicious of everybody. She would need to think carefully on the answers she gave them. Wording makes all the difference and she was an expert at evading questions. They would get answers to their questions, vague, ambiguous answers that when given could take on any meaning the receiver desires, but answers nevertheless. She knew she would not be able to get away with a lie, Tristan would see to that. He had been watching her on that field and it had felt as if he could see right through her. It scared her to think she couldn't hide herself from him. Hiding was her way of protecting herself, she had done it most of her life.
No, she wouldn't lie to these knights, but she wasn't about to tell the truth, either. The right answers would come to her in time, but for the moment she was content on leaning back on the horse, taking in the scenery, and letting the wind blow through her disheveled hair. It had been a long time since she had felt this free.
"You're going to fall," Lancelot stated in a matter-of-fact tone. She hadn't been holding on to him as any other woman would have galloping at the speed they were.
"I assure you, I won't," she said slightly annoyed that the moment had been ruined. Horsemanship had been her expertise for years. When she was but a toddler her parents had put her on the back of the village sheepdog. She gradually moved up to larger animals until she was strong enough to keep herself on a horse at age four. Even at that young age she respected the powerful beast and it respected her in return. She felt a connection between her and the animal she didn't have the ability to explain then, and still couldn't as a grown woman.
The knights rode on silently, each with their own thoughts, which mostly consisted of curiosity toward the mysterious woman. Arthur was contemplating what questions he would ask and what he would do with the accused thief. Kayleigh was carefully considering which words to use to answer the questions that would undoubtedly come. By the time they reached the gates to the fort the sun was setting, casting a rusty hue over the land.
Jols was waiting in the dusty courtyard to meet the commander and his men but did not expect to see a strange woman accompanying them. He stared at her stupidly as the knights came to a stop in front of him and dismounted. Kayleigh, ignoring Lancelot's outstretched hand, helped herself down from the horse and landed softly on her feet.
Obviously taken aback by the woman's disregard towards him, Lancelot pulled his hand back quickly as if he had touched a burning ember. Bors could barely stifle the laugh that was building in his throat. It is a strange day when Lancelot is rejected. Women usually make up excuses to be around him but this one seemed to overlook his attractive appearance. Lancelot looked on in confusion as she approached Arthur.
She stood in front of Arthur, all eyes on her, silently waiting for him to speak first. The knights stood around them watching on curiously while they sized each other up, eventually meeting each other's gaze. Arthur searched there for any hint as to the woman's identity and intentions. Kayleigh held his stare and watched wearily as he tried to form any opinion on her at all. Perplexed, he finally broke the silence and spoke, "Who are you?"
"There are many answers to that question, for I have played many roles in my life," she replied.
Gawain scratched his head, "That's a complicated answer lady." He was growing impatient with every moment. She carried an air of false bravado that aggravated his already sour mood. He was tired and hungry and wished they would just get to the point so he could get a drink at the tavern. He was parched and hadn't had a good swig of wine in two days.
"'Tis a complicated question," she said, turning to glance at him. She studied him for a moment. To her, he looked more the barbarian than any of them. His hair falling down past his shoulders in a tangled mess. She imagined he would strike fear into the heart of the wildest of men.
"Tell me woman, is your primary role that of thief?" She winced at Arthur's accusation. "Do not take me as a fool, woman. I may have confiscated you from corrupted Romans but you do not yet know what future awaits you here. You are still under suspect. It would be good for you to answer my inquiries."
She realized that this man was smarter than she had anticipated. She would need to come up with more crafty explanations to satisfy him. "Forgive me for my ill manners, sir. My name is Kayleigh. I mean you and your knights no harm." Arthur examined her as she spoke, looking for any sign that she was lying. He found none and looked to Tristan to confirm, which he did with a slight nod.
"Very well. Jols, show her to a spare room and deliver her some food. Have the maid draw her a bath to clean her up." Jols broke his stare at Kayleigh and nodded at the commander. Arthur addressed Kayleigh once more before heading off to his quarters, "Rest tonight but think hard upon the manner in which you will address your situation. Tomorrow we will decide your fate. If you do not alter your demeanor, I promise you, your future will be ominous."