Thank-you to everyone who has reviewed this story, it is much appreciated. Don't be too optimistic about the characters, though. I have written the next two chapters, it's just writing them up that's the 'fun' part! Anyhow, enjoy the next one. Who knows, I might get on a roll and type the next two up in one go.

P.S. Please, please, can you possible review Chance is a Fine Thing as well, as it is the prequel and I am very proud of it.

Chapter 2: The Fates have fun, and ruin lives in the process

Iseult was incensed. They needed her to go along with them. She knew more of the people, the customs, and the dialects. More than her brother, and certainly more than Guinevere. But no-one would listen to her. When she had heard- via one of the serving-girls- that the knights, Arthur, Guinevere and Gwillam were heading south to try and sort out a dispute between two powerful tribes, she had insisted that she join them. But she was a mother now, Arthur said, and she must stay. Iseult could not believe it. She confronted Arthur the morning before their departure.

"Why, in the name of the Gods, did you order that…wet nurse, if not for me to help you here?" Arthur, no answer to hand , ignored her and strolled past, Guinevere at his heels like one of those bloody lap-dogs the rich Romans used to carry round with them. Oh, she could see this one from miles off. Guinevere could pull the sheepskin over Arthur's eyes like that. The last week had seen Guinevere giving Lancelot mournful stares, full of meaning, when Arthur was looking in the opposite direction. Lancelot had been ignoring her, giving her confused frowns and such. Iseult had been giving Guinevere stares full of meaning back, and had kept him as close to her as she could. Now, with Iseult left behind, she'd begin reeling him in, no problem. Iseult loved Lancelot, but she had no doubt that he'd forget all about her once he was looking deep into Guinevere's eyes.

Iseult flung her hands into the air in exasperation.

"You have a child, and suddenly you're ignored." Still no-one answered her. She looked over at Lancelot, who looked rather sullen and was trying not to make eye-contact with her. Clearly he had tried and failed on this one with his friend. Iseult turned and ran in front of Arthur, looking up into his dark, emotionless eyes, trying to look past the barrier he had there permanently.

"I'm…not…happy," she told him very quietly. Arthur looked at her in silence for a moment. He knew what he was about to say to her would cause more trouble than it was worth, but for reasons only he and Iseult knew about. However, he needed her here, even if …but it wouldn't, he was sure.

"Tristan has injured himself," he told her. Iseult's immediate reaction was to say 'Bollocks' in Iceni under her breath. Guinevere raised her eyebrows. Well, thought Iseult, noticing her, perhaps she knows a little slang after all.

"How does that affect me?" she continued in Latin. Arthur paused, and then carried on.

"It affects you in that I trust you. I trust you to look after this fort. You were born a leader after all. Tristan is bedridden under the shaman's orders and I need someone visible to keep order round here. You can do it, so I am ordering you to do it, for me," he finished. Iseult half-closed her eyes in thought. She took a step closer and half-whispered to him.

"I advise you never to order a Queen to do anything again, King Arthur." Arthur was about to speak, but Iseult cut in front of him. "You know I'll do it. It's the least I can do." The next part was whispered so that only Arthur could hear. "You know what you are doing, though, don't you? Leaving Tristan here can only mean trouble." Arthur sighed and frowned.

"You and Lancelot love each other, though. Tristan-"

"-Tristan has more power over me than I care to let on to anyone, even myself. Just remember what I said that night…A different way, Arthur. I think Tristan knows, too." She stepped back and smiled, so as not to draw to much unwanted attention from the others. She could see Guinevere making eyes at Lancelot behind her as they all walked along. "And Arthur? Keep an eye on Lancelot, will you? I'm a pessimist and…We aren't married and…I've seen things that make me feel that…just watch him, please." And with that she paced off.

"May the Gods be with you, and bring you back safely!" she called as an afterthought as her form disappeared into the shadows of the fortress. Lancelot looked on, a frown on his face. He considered going after her, just to get away from Guinevere, but he knew that Iseult was best left alone with her anger. A temper like that in a woman of her stature (she was a good deal taller than Guinevere, though shorter than Lancelot by a good amount, and Arthur still towered over her) could be fairly brutal, especially if there was an moveable furniture about, so he left it.

The next morning, Iseult watched the party leave. Arthur in front, then Lancelot, then Guinevere, for once actually on a horse, then the others; her brother riding alongside Galahad. Behind Iseult the various parts of a chair lay scattered after their impact with the wall. The next few weeks were going to be interesting, very interesting indeed.