Chapter 4

The journey back weakened what little pride Jun had left. She rode at the front of Tristan's saddle with his arms secured around her while Dastan followed behind from a tether. It took four days.

Four days of trading snide remarks with the insufferable Knight.

Four days enduring multiple bemused gazes – from the Knight; from the old man; hell, even the animals seemed to tease her. Tristan's hawk, Ayn, seemed like an especially keen observer.

By the fourth morning, Jun felt she that she was not above begging to ride her own mount through the large gates of Haydron's Wall. Thankfully, she didn't have to.

"Are you well enough yet, woman?" Tristan all but growled as they packed up camp and readied the horses.

"Of course I am," Jun replied hastily, glaring at him.

"Good. My bird doesn't like you."

Jun made faces once his back was turned. Merlin snorted but kept his comments to himself. It was still snowing so many of the villagers were off the streets, making the fortress town a little more quiet than Jun was used to.

Jols was waiting for them by the stables. He nodded to Tristan but eyed the others. He wasn't suspicious of Jun or Merlin, but the man was very particular about whom he gave his respect to. Tristan liked that about Jols.

"Arthur is waiting for your report in the war room, Tristan, and Gwen wants to see you two," he said when they dismounted.

Merlin untethered a sack from his horse's saddle and gestured towards Jun. "I need to check this one's leg. Tell Guinevere to meet us in the infirmary." Jun made a noise in the back of her throat, annoyed that she was injured in the first place and that the old man still refused to use her name. The men ignored her irritation, however.

A stable boy came in and Jols turned to Jun. "I'll have a bed set up for you there. Did you need me to help you?"

"I'll take her," Tristan answered before Jun could even open her mouth and she pretended not to see the way the other men's eyebrows raised. "It's on my way."

Jun stared at him but said nothing. If he wanted to mock her further then she would ignore it. If she were a man, she would not feel the weight of their stares nor the rush of blood to her face. Instead, she was a woman, newly recruited, and injured on the first attempt to prove herself to a new master. Life was so much easier when she was a man. Glaring at the back of the knight's head made her feel a little bit better.

Tristan felt her gaze searing into his back and he tried to keep the smug smirk he knew she hated from his face. Jun was just so easy to irritate. It was becoming his favorite pastime. The knight did slow his own pace when he heard the muffled step-slide of her gait and realized that she must be limping. He held out his arm for her and again tried not to smirk when she just stared at it in suspicion.

Large brown eyes peered up at him in curious annoyance. She said nothing, but took his arm and allowed her weight to shift more easily by leaning into him as they continued down the hall. They were alone, and for the first time in days, not arguing. Tristan couldn't tell for sure, but he supposed that he might like this just as much as he enjoyed taunting her.

The infirmary was empty of people. Only stiff empty beds and the musty smell of herbs awaited them. Jun let go of Tristan's arm with an imperceptible nod of gratitude and sat down on the nearest bed as quickly as she could. Her trousers were stained with blood; Tristan suspected that some of it was fresh, but he didn't comment. Instead, he knelt down to her eye level, making sure to have her full attention.

"There will be a hunt soon. You will ride with me, so stay off that leg and make sure it heals properly." Jun sat up straight and nodded. He held her gaze for a moment longer before his eyes traveled over the whole of her body. Then he stood and left.

Jun stared at the door when it closed behind him. That man was by far the most irritating she had ever encountered. In so few words he had chastised, patronized, and given her hope all at once. He must think her a child. While she seethed, Jun removed her trousers as carefully as possible and used a blanket to cover her legs while she waited on the bed for Merlin to arrive.

She had felt her wound opening again when she dismounted Dastan earlier and tried her best not to let the pain show in her face. Perhaps it was a good thing she had stayed silent because there was no way she would have been able to keep the strain from her voice. However shallow the gash was, it burned when it bled and throbbed as it healed.

It wasn't long before Merlin walked in with Guinevere in tow. The queen sat down on the bed with Jun and gave her a sound hug. "Merlin told me what happened."

"He's a great healer. My leg doesn't even hurt anymore and I haven't felt sick at all today," Jun smiled. In return Merlin frowned and shook his head. He stood at a table a few feet away mixing a familiar smelling concoction.

"Dishonesty will not serve you now little one, nor will flattery. You must still drink this."

The women shared bemused looks at the old man's gruff demeanor but Jun drank the foul liquid when he served it to her anyway. Guinevere had a wrapped parcel with her that she now unfolded and revealed to be a pale dress of fine blue cloth. "When Merlin's done treating your wound we'll have to get this on you and see where it needs adjusting. The Winter Solstice Festival is in two weeks time and there's still so much to do."

"Festival?" Jun eyed the dress warily. "Tristan mentioned a hunt."

Guinevere nodded. "Yes, the hunters go out a week before the Solstice to bring back a feast – wait, Tristan mentioned this?"

"Aye, he told me that I must get better soon, if I wanted to go. Is it against custom for women to go?"

"Well, it's never happened before but I don't think the gods will be offended. Truly, this is the first year our kingdom will be celebrating the night together in peace. After so many years of fighting, Arthur and I just want to make it a time of joy for our people and pay our respects to all the gods – Pagan and Christian alike."

"And drink yourselves silly with ale and mead…" Merlin chuckled under his breath.

"And revive ourselves with your miracle potions on the holy day," Guinevere rejoined quickly.

Merlin merely smiled and began tending to Jun's leg. When he was finished with the bindings, he stood and patted the former mercenary on the head. "You did well, little one." It made Jun huff, but not without a bit of humor. She knew now that he was only teasing her affectionately. The old man took his leave after placing a gentle kiss on the queen's brow, presumably to go and see Arthur.

Before any objections could be made, Guinevere divested Jun of her tunic and began fastening the blue dress into place. When commanded, Jun stood and let the skirt fall to the ground. She tried not to blush and failed miserably. The taller woman circled her and pinched sections of the dress together where it hung loose before nodding and disrobing her friend again. Then she produced a thicker, woolen dress from her parcel and laid it out on the bed.

"Must I?"

"It will be easier on your leg," Guinevere cooed and helped Jun into her tunic with the thicker dress over it. "Besides, you need the practice."

"I'll just trip and twist an ankle."

"Well, you won't be walking much for the next few days. I'll see if Dagonet can carry you to your new room."

"New room?"

"Yes, I'm sorry I forgot to mention it," Guinevere smiled. "Bors has moved into a cottage with his family, and the rest of the men… well it was interesting to watch them all argue and switch between rooms… In the end, Arthur decided to grant you Galahad's old room. It's in the same wing as the other knights and closer to the main building, and there's even a place for a fire."

Jun frowned. Usually, such accommodations were reserved for high ranking officers, not ambiguous mercenaries such as her. The queen must have recognized Jun's confusion because she smiled even wider now. "We're just happy to have you among us – myself especially. I feel as though I can trust you with my life, even if you were sent here to kill me."

They both laughed when Guinevere finished tying up the laces in Jun's dress, and the former mercenary admitted with a blush, "I think we both know that I never would have gotten within a foot of you, had I carried out my contract. The knights are very loyal to you."

"They are loyal to Arthur." It was said in a tone that made Jun pause. Guinevere continued to fold the pale silk dress and replaced it in her parcel without looking up. She was the Queen, but Jun was only now realizing the how lonely her friend's position must be. Guinevere was a Woad and lived in a settlement with people who had come to fear and hate the wild folk after years of war. She was nothing like the fine Roman ladies these people had grown accustomed looking up to. She was the outsider who seduced their beloved Arthur. She was a warrior at heart, but Guinevere was not invited to the taverns with the men like Jun was. Jun couldn't even recall her friend chatting and laughing with any of the women, except Bors' wife Vanora. It made her heart hurt.

Jun pulled Guinevere's hand and held it to her own chest. The action startled to Queen, and the former mercenary could see unshed tears welling in the taller woman's eyes, but Jun just held her friend's hand even tighter. "My Queen, I came to your land expecting death. There were nights aboard that ship that I contemplated taking my own life, and the only thing that stopped my blade was the thought of Dastan and what would become of him. I kneeled before your king and his warriors but it was you who made the decision to spare me. It is you that I owe my life to, and it will always be you that I am loyal to."

Jun found herself wrapped in a fierce, but trembling, embrace almost immediately. Neither woman commented on the Queen's tears. They just held each other.

After a while they were able to draw apart and Guinevere sighed. All at once, it was as if they had known each other their whole lives. They sat on the cot together, relaxing their bodies against each other like sisters, and Guinevere explained the traditions that would be followed in the coming days. When a seemingly comfortable silence settled over them, Guinevere frowned.

"Yes, my queen?"

"Oh nothing… It's just that Arthur had relieved Tristan of his duties watching you a week before the two of you left." Jun peered over her shoulder to see the other woman smirk. "I hadn't had the chance to speak with you alone then, but Lancelot's comments about Tristan being occupied had been in jest that morning. Besides, our scout usually goes out on his missions alone so we all thought it was odd that he even allowed you to accompany him – and with what Merlin said about how well he took care of you– AND that he mentioned the hunt to you..."

Jun could have laughed. She had never been close with other women, aside from the nightly affairs with to silly girls at Peroz's war camp. But now Jun was a woman. She was allowed to be soft and giddy and ridiculous. Jeong-Hwa would have surely laughed at her now, as she blushed like a ripe pomegranate in front of a queen.

"He is a bothersome man," she admitted.

Guinevere smirked. "Will you ride out with him for the hunt?"

"I'd like to. I want another chance to prove my worth to the King."

"I see."

Jun hesitated, blushing even more. "May I be blunt?"

"Always."

"I do not know what is expected of me, my Queen."

"How so?"

"I have never been a woman. I was a girl, and then a soldier, but never a lady. You say that here women fight alongside their men – that I can do – but I have seen the way the others are together…"

"You mean the ladies at the tavern and the men?"

Jun nodded, "Yes."

"Then be at peace," Guinevere placed a hand on Jun's knee. "I do not think that is what Tristan has in mind."

"How do you know that? How am I to know that?"

"Well, you'll have to ask Gawain or Dagonet for the details." Guinevere paused. "It's not really spoken of, but... Tristan is a difficult man to be around. I heard he was in love once, and married young, but that she died in child birth. Arthur says that he's always been a surly one, but after Isolde's death, Tristan lost faith in the world."

"I did not think him religious."

"Nor I, but I don't think that's what Arthur meant. Jun, I am rather fond of you, so I want you to be careful. Battle – all the bloodshed and killing that has been done for this land – was all Tristan lived for, for so many years. Even the Woads, my people, still fear him in this time of peace because his bloodlust is limitless and he enjoys killing."

(+++)++years ago++(+++)

Jun stared at the ornate pot in front of her as fragrant smoke wafted from the many holes in the ocher clay. Peroz sat across from her, and they were alone in his tent. Jeong-Hwa was off somewhere, most likely with his favorite harem girl, Aaliyah. But here was Jun, alone with her commanding general, sipping tea and trying to relax as he had suggested.

"Your secret is safe with me, Jun," he spoke softly. Peroz was reclined on artful pillows, varying in color and luxury. Jun sat cross-legged on her cushion. Her fingers played idly with the tassels on the corners of it as she began to let her posture relax.

"How?" she asked, allowing her voice to lighten in pitch and delicacy as it was wont to do when she let her guard down. Besides, there was no point in lying to Peroz now and continuing with the charade while they were alone.

"How did I know? Or how can you be sure to trust me?" he mused.

"The first," Jun smiled. "My faith in you has been proven too many times this past year for me to start questioning it now."

Peroz's laugh made the glossy curls of his hair bounce, even though it was quiet. This was a quiet sort of night after all – at least, for the two of them it was. Their army had Hermozd's keep surrounded and tomorrow's battle would decide the new King of the Sassanid Empire.

"I'm glad you think so highly of me." He took a slow sip of his tea before continuing. "To answer your question, you give yourself away daily. Your hands may be that of a warrior, but they long for the softer things in this world. The way you hold a cup, or pet your horse, is too delicate. It's as if you were memorizing their textures. Even now, they find the silk threads of your pillow and dance with them."

Immediately, Jun blushed and stilled her wayward appendages. She shifted to the side, letting her legs out and leaned on her arm in a calm repose so as not to let Peroz think she felt insulted by his observations. He smiled and mirrored her position so that they were closer together now, but still encircling the small tea set and incense burner between them. His eyes roamed her face in a way that was neither shy, nor predatory. It made her blush even deeper.

"There's also that," he grinned and gestured to her face. "You blush whenever my face is within a foot of yours."

"Other men's as well."

"But not as often as mine. And your mood shifts to defensive as quickly as my wives' do, so I can tell when you feel affronted. Forgive me, I meant no harm by the comment– though it is still very flattering."

"Anything else?"

"A few of the men have commented that you always squat rather than stand, but I wasn't going to mention it."

She shoved him playfully on the shoulder. It was a familiar defensive recourse that usually evolved into a full blown brawl with the other men, but Peroz was different. He was her friend and just laughed the offense off. They laughed together until both were lying down on their sides. His dark brown eyes peered gently into her own, and she was tempted to touch his bronzed skin or brush that stray lock of obsidian curly hair out of his face. She didn't.

"I could protect you," he spoke again.

"I don't need protection. Besides, JeongHwa does that."

"I would ask him for your marriage. You wouldn't have to hide as a man anymore. You could live as a woman, Jun, as my wife."

"You already have two wives and three children."

Peroz smirked. "A man never has too many wives or children."

"You do not love me," she whispered, and her friend's dark brow furrowed.

"Of course I do! You should know by now the extent of my fondness for you."

"I also know by now that Captain Nema is the only person you will ever truly be in love with. He is your soul-mate Peroz, no matter how good the both of you are at hiding it. I am just as good of an observer as you are." She could tell that he was not expecting that response from her.

"If you were anyone else, I'd have to kill you. You know that, don't you Jun?"

"A testament to your 'fondness of me'," she smiled, and this time Jun did brush that stray curl out of the way and smoothed his frown until he gave her a small grin in return.

"It is you who do not love me then."

"You cannot have two soul-mates, Peroz."

"No, I suppose not. I do love you though, and I could not love you more even if you were a man. I would only have you exactly as you are. Marry me and I will decree that you be allowed to fight beside me, even as my wife."

Jun smiled ruefully. "I will speak with Jeong-Hwa after the battle."

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