Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from the movie.

I would like to thank homeric for reviewing again. Right now I am on a natural high after getting my GCSE results. 3 A stars 4 As and 3 Bs! Whoot! Hmm, yes. Hope anyone else who got their results today did well. Here's the next chapter, hope you like it.

Since That Day

Chapter Three

The next morning Arthur woke a good while before dawn, with a strange sense of unease. Looking about him, he saw Guinevere asleep, a slight frown creasing her brow. She hadn't much liked his decision to investigate the attacks himself. It had lead to a heated argument and had done little to help him sleep. And now he would likely be leaving with the bitterness still in the air between them.

Quickly he dressed in plain clothes and a scuffed pair of boots. He walked to the door, his eyes looking blindly down at the floor. Just before he left the room, he turned to look once more at his wife. He sighed, deep and heavy. He could only hope that she would have calmed down by the time he returned.

As he made his way to the stables, he was revising the best course for the long journey to Camludonum. They would go as directly south as the land allowed, and would then cut east until they reached the city gates. From there, he would decide on events as they happened. In the past he had learned that if you don't leave a leeway when planning, said plan would undoubtedly end up failing. So flexibility it was.

When he entered the stables he found Tristan, Gawain and Galahad already there, their horses tacked and waiting. The deep blue of the sky was now slowly fading into the rainbow display of sunrise.

"Weather's going to be good. Clouds, but there shouldn't be any rain," Tristan spoke as he adjusted his horse's saddle.

"How do you always know these things?" Gawain asked, peevish from lack of sleep, or ale. Arthur couldn't be sure.

Tristan just shrugged his shoulders, and turned his attention back to his horse, muttering calm, soothing words to the stallion as he tossed his head in agitation.

"Why does he have so much time for that bloody horse, and barely a second for any of us?" Galahad as he moved to refill the trough in his horse's stall.

"Because it's smarter than you'll ever be, Galahad." Gawain's answer managed to make even Tristan twitch his mouth into a shadow of a smile.

Arthur walked over to where his horse was pushing the straw around as if to say 'is this the best you have to offer?' Ducking under the rope that kept the beast confined, he stroked the horse's neck, and muttered a few words of encouragement in his ear.

Some men saw horses as nothing but useful pieces of equipment to be thrown away when they were of no more use. Arthur and his knights did not. Man and horse worked as part of a team, each as valuable as the other. To his mind any of the horses taking shelter inside the stables were worth a king's ransom. Arthur knew that each knight had his own little ritual, which he followed without fail.

It was some time later that the other knights entered the stables to prepare for the journey. When Dagonet arrived, he had Lucan in tow as if the boy was afraid that the quiet man would disappear again if he took his eyes off of him for a second.

It wasn't long after that the knights were assembled in the courtyard ready for the long trek south. Civilians and fort guards alike a gathered to see them off, and frightened whispers followed Tristan, Lancelot and Dagonet where ever they went.

Arthur watched as Vanora pushed her way to the front of the crowd, looking slightly dishevelled. Bors dismounted and walked to meet her. Van started saying something, but Arthur couldn't hear what the words were.

Then abruptly, Dgaonet dismounted and for a long moment stood looking from Lucan's face to Vanora before walking up the couple.

"Van, would you keep an eye on Lucan until I return?" Dagonet's voice sounded earnest.

After a pause, Vanora nodded. "Of course, Dag," she replied, smiling down at the boy.

Although Arthur couldn't see his face properly, he did manage to see some of the tension leave Dagonet's body, as he knew that Lucan would be left in good hands. Arthur continued to watch as Dagonet squatted down so his eyes were level with the boy's.

"I'll return soon," Dagonet rested his hand on the boy's shoulder, and Arthur just managed to catch the delighted look on the boys face before it disappeared. "I want you be good. You listen to Van and you'll be fine."

Arthur stopped watching to look across the courtyard to where his room was. The window was open and he could see Guinevere standing with her arms crossed as she looked out at him.

When he turned his attention back to his knights, Dag and Bors were back in their saddles and he could see all of them growing restless. The sooner they went, the sooner they would return.

Arthur turned his horse about and someone opened the gates. Then, with a quick gesture from his hand he spurred his horse into a trot, then a canter and he could hear the knights downing the same behind him.

Briefly, he turned his head to look back at the fort. He saw Dagonet quickly do the same, and Bors, too, before they all turned their attention to the road ahead.

As night was falling, Tristan returned to the small band of men with a good, sheltered place to rest for the night.

It wasn't long before the horses were tethered to the trees and a fire had been lit. The men gathered around it, their faces flickering orange in the glow of the flames. As usual, the conversation turned from what lay ahead to what had already happened.

"You never did that, Lancelot. I was there. I know," Gawain contested something as he waved a hunk of bread at Lancelot in mock anger. "It was Bors. And Tristan. You couldn't shoot straight if your life depended on it."

"That was a good day, whether Lancelot hit the long shot or not." Galahad interrupted as he saw Lancelot about to take offence.

"D'you remember Culhwch?" Dagonet asked.

There were nods, and a grunt from Tristan, whose eyes had glazed over slightly at the mention of the name.

"You two made a good team. We could use him here now, what with all those languages he learned," Daginet said, then looked upset when he saw how ashen Tristan's face had turned. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything."

Tristan shook his head, and licked his lips. "I still miss him," Tristan revealed. "I'm glad our parents will never learn of what happened to him. Roman bastards," he added, as he stared into the fire, his expression a mixture of pain, anger and sadness.

The other knights were silent for a long time after that. It was rare that Tristan ever told anyone what he was feeling and whenever he did it left the air heavy as though he was releasing his demons into the world about him.

"He was a good man, Tristan. A good man," Lancelot finally said, all of his front and swagger gone.

Arthur, like the rest, was thing of all the comrades they had lost over the years. Some of those losses had been harder to bear than others but that didn't lessen the stab through the heart he felt each time he saw the empty spaces at his round table.

"It's time we slept. We still have a long way to go tomorrow, and the day after." Arthur said after another drawn out silence.

There was a flurry of activity as men moved away from the fire and four lay down rest while the other two kept watch. It wasn't long before it became quiet, the silence broken by the occasional snore and the sound of insects starting to come out of their daytime hiding places.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

I remember the subject of Culhwch came up one night in the feasting hall. I was just a girl, four or five, but I still remember the look on Tristan's face as he heard an old Roman legionary say that he deserved what he got. It took three young men to stop him cutting the man's throat. I hope I never have to know how he felt. I couldn't bare to lose Igraine, Kai or Sevi.