Disclaimer: I don't own King Arthur or any of the knights. I do own Kaleigh.
ElvenStar5: My first reviewer!!! You get a cookie for that. Enjoy!
Tread: Thank you so much for the review and compliments. You have no idea how happy that made me. Here's the next chapter, I hope you like it.
Katemary77: I feel so special that you liked my story. I was wondering, this is a stupid question I know, but what is a Mary Sue. I should know, but I don't. I hope you enjoy this chapter.
Vamsi: Thank you so much for the review. You'll have to wait another chapter to see her interact with the knights though.
"talking"
thoughts
Chapter 2: The Tavern
The woman halted and watched the caravan enter into the walled city. The blue eyes followed the large wall that seemed to stretch on forever in the distance.
"What do you think is behind the wall Valdeer? It does look rather important." She addressed her horse as she thought back on what she had heard some Romans mention months earlier. It was called Hadrian's Wall, designed to keep the Woads away from the Romans and more civilized Britons. Despite having a minor hatred of the Woads for endangering Lancelot's life, she couldn't help feel for them. This was their land after all. Not the damned Romans. Her horse tugged on the reins, dragging her back from her thoughts. She watched the last Roman guard go through the gate and was pleasantly surprised when it wasn't closed after them.
"Well, that will make getting in slightly easier." She murmured and nudged her horse into a walk. As she walked along next to the wall she could feel the Romans at the top staring at her. She brought her hood up over her head and looked instead at the men and women tending the fields next to her. The people looked at her curiously and she smiled slightly. When she reached the gate two Roman guards stepped out to block her way.
"Name and business." Demanded the one on the left.
She remained silent, head bowed slightly forward so her hood concealed her face.
The one on the right stepped towards her, his sword glistening in the sun, "Are you deaf man? Lower you hood and answer the question."
With a sigh she reached up and pulled back her hood. The Romans faces look startled at first to see a woman riding astride, but their expressions quickly turned to those of appreciation as they took in her features. She glowered, "My name is of no consequence to you, and my business is my own."
The guard on the left smirked, "Well then you can just turn around and leave." They stood waiting for her to do as they said.
She decided she'd have to tell them the truth, well part of it at least, "My name is truly not yours to know, but I come here seeking the knight Lancelot. He owes me much for the bastard growing in my belly." She paused waiting to see if the guards would see through her lie. They didn't. The guards both laughed and waved her through, "Thank you."
As she heeled her horse forward she heard them talking, "Another of Lancelot's wenches. What's he gotten himself into with this one." asked one.
"But he does have good taste." laughed the other.
Hmm, so you've become a bit of a slut have you Lancelot, she mused as she entered into the bustle of the streets. This town was like any she had seen. People bartering and hurrying around trying to get all the things they needed for the best price. Her horse stopped as two little children ran in front of them, laughing and shouting. She asked a man where she might find a place to put her horse up for the night and he directed her to the stables at the other side of the town.
When she entered through the stable door she was greeted with the smell of leather, horse and hay. She inhaled the missed smell deeply and closed her eyes.
"Can I help you milady?"
Her eyes snapped open and she saw a man putting away a dapple-gray horse. "I was wondering if I might be able to put my horse here for the night and next several days." She answered as he came out of the stall.
The man looked her and her horse over carefully. "That horse is a bit big for you isn't he?"
She smiled and dismounted, her 5'10" frame barely coming to the horse's withers. "I've raised him from a baby. I never thought he'd get this big, and he's still growing if you'd believe it." She affectionately scratched the big horses head.
"You raised him? He is a very fine animal."
"Thank you. Back home he's one of many that look like this though. Many men have never seen a well bred Sarmatian horse."
"Sarmatian?" he questioned, " He comes from Sarmatia?"
"Yes, as do I. I have come here seeking a Sarmatian who was taken by the Romans to be a knight over 15 years ago. I believed he rides with Arthur and what I have heard in the streets confirms it."
He nodded, "Arthur and the knights just arrived back from a mission. What is your friends name, so that I may pass on word that you are here."
"I prefer not to tell you. I have come all this way for him and it would be slightly disappointing to end the journey with someone else bringing him to me. I should like to find him myself."
He nodded, "Very well. All the knights are meeting with Arthur and the Bishop at the moment, receiving their letters of free passage through Rome."
The young woman's eyes lit up, "Are they truly?"
He nodded, "And I can tell you that no matter which your brother is he'll be at the tavern celebrating once the meeting is over. Here, let me put this beast up for you."
She handed him the reins, "Thank you so much for the wonderful news." Once she exited the stable she couldn't help squealing uncharacteristically in delight at her wonderful timing. Several villagers stared at her, wondering if perhaps she was mad. She glared slightly at the disapproving looks a woman gave her, "Could you point me toward the tavern. Please." The lady pointed and hurried away from the strange girl. As she walked in the direction she had been pointed she noticed the sky had darkened. Several Roman guards walked by her, lighting torches as they went. She entered the tavern and ordered a mug of ale. The woman that helped her was very kind and introduced herself as Vanora. She held a baby in one arm and the two women hit it off almost immediately. They talked for several minutes about different things until men started arriving and Vanora went to wait on them. The woman, now alone at the bar, grew slightly uneasy at the attention her looks were drawing so she raised her hood and carried her beer over to a dark corner. She squirmed for a moment on the wooden stool, trying to get comfortable, then leaned back against the rough walls and waited for the knights to come.
Several Hours Later
She smiled and ran her finger over the rim of the mug she held. She had been watching the knights for some time now. They had come in full of good nature and several immediately began drinking. It turned out that the name of the short, bald knight was Bors. He appeared to be the father of at least one of Vanoras children because he now held her small baby cradled in his arms. The pale haired knight was Gawain and the young, dark haired man he had fought with was Galahad. She watched a bar wench allow herself to get pulled on to Gawains lap and then smirked at Galahads somewhat shy attempt to woo another wench. The dark haired knight that had fought with two swords sat with several Roman soldiers playing dice, occasionally joining in jest with the others and teasing Vanora and the other bar wenches, but she had yet to learn his name. She had yet to see the tall bald knight and so didn't know his name either.
Her gaze was drawn for what seemed like the hundredth time that night to the knight with the curved sword that had stared at her on the hill. She had learned his name was Tristan. He kept to the outskirts of his friends and stood leaning against a column, using his knife to cut up and eat an apple. She studied his face. The tattoos on his defined cheekbones, the thick lashes that covered his brooding dark eyes, the way parts of his hair were braided to keep it out of his face. Even the slight gray in his beard was appealing for he obviously was still very young, perhaps the same age as Lancelot. She quickly looked away when his eyes rose from his apple and looked directly at her. It seemed as if he knew she had been watching him and had been studying her as well. She glanced back and saw that he was no longer leaning where he once had. For some reason she felt disappointed and began searching the room for him. Something about that quiet knight called her to him. It was strange, she had always been proud that she never got to excited over the men back home. True, some of them had been attractive but none of them possessed the same type of zeal for life that she did or love of battle that she did. Most men in Sarmatia, even veteran knights, thought she was outright insane for knowing how to fight. They all expected her to give up training her horses and fighting, but somehow she had the feeling this man would be different. She reached down to her waist and thigh and felt the comforting feel of the steel of her dagger. She had left her sword on Valdeers saddle, knowing if she got in trouble her dagger would be enough. If it wasn't she could always improvise. She caught sight of Tristan again, this time leaning at the bar, talking to Galahad. She saw several brave wenches approach him and watched him shrug them both off as if they weren't there. She smiled, reminded of herself shrugging off men at home, or on the rare occasion when the man hadn't taken the hint, breaking a mug over their head.
Gawain arose suddenly and placed a stool on its side on top of a table. Stepping back he picked up a knife and swaying slightly he threw it at the stool. The people around him laughed as the dagger just barely stuck into the stool. He smiled sheepishly and stumbled forward, pulling out his knife. He sat back down at the table and pulled the closest wench onto his lap. Galahad stepped forward and threw his knife. Everyone cheered as it hit almost dead center of the stool. He was about to step forward and retrieve it when another knife flew through the air and imbedded itself in the handle of Galahads knife.
She turned with the others to see Tristan now holding only his apple.
"Tristan," Gawain said, "how do you do that?"
Tristan pointed at the stool, "I aim for the middle."
He said it so matter-of-factly that the girl could not help laughing with the others, causing her hood to slide part way off her head, revealing her face for a moment.
A very drunk man at the table next to her saw her before she could fix her hood and came and sat down next to her. "Hello woman." He slurred, "What's a pretty young thing like you doing all by yourself." He said leaning towards her. She scowled at the smell of stale ale that was on his breath and started to rise. He rose with her and grabbed her left arm, "Where do you think you're going?"
Her right hand unsheathed her dagger but she kept it hidden in the folds of the black cloak. She looked down at her wrist and then gazed back up at the man, locking eyes with him, "Sir if you wish to still own all your body parts when the sun rises I suggest you release me."
He scowled, so drunk he couldn't see the hot anger in her eyes, "Someone needs to teach you some manners wench." He moved forward to kiss her and she brought her dagger up to his throat before he had moved a centimeter.
"I'm not a wench."
His eyes moved down to her hand and then back up to her eyes. "What's this?"
"This, you idiot, is a dagger. One that is poised to slice your throat open. Now, as I said before, release me arm." She said with dead calm in her voice.
He gulped causing the dagger to prick his throat and he quickly released her wrist. She drew back her dagger and used her left hand to shove him over a table into the light.
As Galahad, Gawain and Tristan looked over at the commotion she stepped forward out of the shadows. At the glint of steel in her hand Gawain and Galahad drew their own daggers. She looked down at the drunken man who still lay on the ground. She smirked at the fear in his eyes, sheathed her dagger and looked up at the three knights. Bors and the nameless dark haired knight also walked forward cautiously, unsure of that was going on and why two of their friends had drawn their knifes on the dark cloaked figure. Reaching up she removed her hood, "I am Kaleigh. I seek the knight called Lancelot."
Author's Note: Sorry this took so long for me to post. I had finals this week. So now we know the name of the lone figure. But what is her relationship to Lancelot? Can anyone guess?
