A huge 'Thank You' again to all my readers and reviewers. Your support is invaluable. I hope you enjoy this next installment.
Chapter 4
"Did ya hear what I said, lass?"
Juna stared at her mother across the crude wooden supper table with a look of complete bewilderment.
"The oxen…." The elder woman spoke irritably "Have ya, fed 'em up for the night?"
Juna's mother pursed her lips suspiciously. The silence, the distant looks, the lack of appetite - all so unlike her normally spirited daughter. One didn't need a mother's intuition to know something was amiss. The woman gazed steadily across the table. Whatever thoughts and places her daughter was lost within, her bright, sparkling eyes and radiant inconsequential smiles, told her they were happy ones. The woman knew that look all too well. She had worn it herself once, many years ago. All that concerned her was who it may be that shared her daughter's dreams and why did Juna not speak of him?
"The oxen?" Juna answered at last "No sorry… I have'na yet. I'll go see to it now, Ma"
Drawing herself reluctantly from her thoughts, Juna stood up and made for the door.
"Juna" her mother called softly after her.
Juna stopped at the door and looked back. For a moment, the mother regarded her daughter with a feeling almost of sadness. Just when had she grown into this woman who stood before her now? It seemed only yesterday that she was but a child.
Anxious, she said a silent prayer that her daughter had not fallen prey to the same surreptitious, predatory charms as she had, so many years ago.
"Take the torch, Lass. Darkness has fallen quickly this night."
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The warm, steady flames of the torch upon the stable wall began flickering wildly as a swift and sudden breeze whistled through the evening air, sending the shadows dancing eerily all around. Juna looked over her shoulder toward the barn door, expecting to see her mother stood there, but it was closed and all around was silent except for the stirring of the three head of cattle and a few roosting fowl. Juna shrugged and thought no more about it and carried on forking fresh hay into the waiting oxen's trough. That done she placed down her pitchfork, glad to finally be able to rest for the night.
"There you go, ladies." She murmured under her breath as she slapped the cow's rump affectionately. "Sleep tight and …."
Juna fell silent and swung around quickly to find… nothing. She had felt the presence, she knew she had. A feeling almost like the whisper of someone's breath upon her cheek. She stood completely still, listening for something, anything. But for the rustle of the cattle, there was nothing.
She turned back once more, her eyes straining to see within the darkness that loomed beyond the torches light but it would not betray its secrets. Then slowly, Juna began to sense the disturbing feeling of watching eyes. She swallowed uneasily as her throat ran dry.
"Who's there?" she demanded hoarsely as she began to back slowly away from the darkness toward safety of the barn door. Stepping edgily one foot behind the other she then quickly spun on her heel in order to flee to safety, only to find her self held fast by a powerful arm that wrapped itself about her waist. She opened her mouth to scream but her cry was muffled instantly by a firm though gentle hand clasped across her mouth.
"Ssshhh!" a man's whisper warned in her ear as she felt herself lifted from the ground and spun around.
Wrenching her head forcibly from side to side, Juna managed to find her grip with her teeth and wasted no time in biting down hard upon the flesh of the hand at her mouth. She felt the man wince as he fought the pain, but as Juna bit even harder, he could take no more and let go his hold, pushing her away as he did so. Juna stumbled forward toward a nearby hay bale and grabbed up the pitchfork she had left there. She swung around as fast as she could, pointing the fork defiantly at the man behind her.
"You have a bite like a wild cat, woman!" growled a distinctively deep and husky voice
Juna gave out a little shriek of surprise, as there before her stood Tristan, grimacing faintly, whilst soothing the wound on his hand with his tongue. He made a move towards her but was thwarted at once as Juna impulsively jabbed at him with the fork.
"Stay away from me! Or I'll stick you with this, I swear!" She hissed angrily.
Tristan held up his hands in accordance and stepped back on his heel, rather bewildered. He was expecting to hear her laugh, not have her hold him at bay at the end of a pitchfork. Gods! But he had made a horse's ass out of this situation, he thought to himself. It was far from his intention to frighten the woman. But then, he never had been very good at all this female business. He'd come here to court her, not scare her half to death and just look at the reception he'd managed to invoke. What the hell was he supposed to say now?
"Careful where you point that thing, Juna – you could do me a mischief and then what use would I be to you?" he eventually spoke, his scowl now exchanged with a particularly roguish twinkle in his eyes. Juna gave a puzzled, thoughtful frown, followed momentarily by an affronted gasp.
"How dare you! Get out of my barn, you vagabond."
Tristan sighed wearily. Like courting women, light hearted jesting had never been one of his greatest attributes either, obviously.
"Look woman, just put the bloody fork down, will you?" he grumbled again.
"I sharnt!" Juna whispered defiantly, conscious suddenly that her mother may hear the kafuffle and discover him here. Tristan frowned and rolled his eyes, 'well, this is going well' he thought despondently.
"What sort of a man are you? Lurking about in barns, sneaking up on defenseless women?" she hissed again.
But even as she spoke, the sight of this handsome, wild looking man was already spinning its web and Juna was fighting the strange desire to laugh and run into his arms.
"If you didn't keep running away from me, before telling me when and where to find you again, I wouldn't have to go to such lengths to seek you out, now would I?"
"Oh, that's what you call it, is it? Seeking me out!" She could hide it no longer and knew Tristan had caught the growing glimmer of mirth in her eyes when she saw his own begin to narrow and dance with mischief again, behind the curtain of long dark hair that lay on his cheeks.
"I was trying to be discreet" He mused huskily, taking a step towards her. "I know how you women covet your reputation in a community such as this"
"Well…. you scared the be-Jesus out of me, you foolish man!" The smile in her eyes crept to her lips as she threw the pitchfork away to one side and, to Tristan's complete surprise, she ran straight into his arms. He gathered her up gratefully and held her close, feeling his heart burst with pleasure from the spontaneous and loving embrace. No one, nothing, had ever made him feel this way before. Such a curious fusion of joy and pain and one that was baffling to the scout as it was irresistible. As he buried his head within her soft brown hair, he heard a sweet, shy chuckle as she whispered
"I'm sorry about your hand."
Tristan grumbled something unintelligible and then looking up for a moment, cast her an erroneous scowl, which made Juna giggle even more.
"I'm so glad my pain amuses, you" Tristan teased softly, leaning back slightly, his dark eyes seeking the pleasure of her own.
"Well, you've only yourself to blame!…..come here, let me see!" she laughed as she slipped her arms from around his waist, took hold of his injured hand and kissed the wound gently.
The feel of her warm lips, the touch of her tiny fingers, the sight of her long brown hair bowed over his outstretched hand - the temptation just proved too much and Tristan felt himself lean forward to breathe in the scent of her hair. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply but gently. She had the crisp fresh scent of a meadow in springtime and he felt himself stir yet again, slipping away into the intimacy of the moment. How he longed to lay her down now, upon the hay at his feet and make her his very own. Tristan groaned silently within and opened his eyes to find Juna now looking up at him, her brown eyes wide and glistening with bemused affection.
"Were you smelling my hair?" she whispered coyly, her dark tawny eyes sparkling ever more.
"No" he lied and smiling, he reached out a finger and gently brushed away a single lock that had fallen across her cheek.
A shy smile curled at the corner of Juna's mouth as she threw him an amused and disbelieving look. Then she kissed his hand once more but to Tristan's regret, let go and the enchanting moment seemed sadly gone. For a short while neither spoke, both lost in their secret longing thoughts of each other.
"Shall I come for you tomorrow, then?" Tristan finally asked softly, wishing that she would reach out and touch him again.
"No!" whispered Juna, anxious all of a sudden, thinking of her mother's inevitable wrath, should he come a knocking at her door "I'll come to you…at the glade…after sunrise"
Tristan gave a nod and ran his tongue across the length of his whiskered lips, then slowly leaned close in offer of a kiss. To his joy, Juna accepted, reaching up and entwining her arms about his neck and kissing him long and deeply. She had been aching to taste his lips once again and their eyes closed instinctively as the long tender caress began to deepen. Tristan slowly wrapped his arms around her waist once more and pulled her tenderly against his hard body, surprised and encouraged by her willing response. He dared to venture and explore her warm sweet mouth with his gentle tongue, feeling her surprise give way to pleasure as she answered with a quiet moan.
"Juna! Juna! Where have you got to, Lass?"
Juna almost leapt from her skin at the sound of her mothers call. Panic stricken, she quickly pushed Tristan away, yelling back as she did so "Just comin' Ma!"
For a moment the would be lovers caught each other's eye, both now breathing heavily and sorely aware of the pain of their unsatisfied hunger.
"I have to go, Tristan. If my Ma catches me…." She whispered anxiously, brushing down her dress and straightening her hair as she sped to the stable door. Tristan felt the immediate anguish of departure again. It seemed just as he held her within his grasp, she was always whisked away, leaving him empty and desolate.
"Running away again?" he asked quietly after her, his voice heavy with regret "Will you run from me tomorrow, too?"
Stopping at the door, Juna glanced back over her shoulder and the sight of him fair near took her breath away. His dark eyes sparkled beneath his long shroud of hair - but the look was not one of mischief or laughter, but of hunger and something much, much more. Something that Juna dared not hope be true.
He was silently willing her back to his side and she answered his call. Swiftly running back into his arms, she took his handsome whiskered face in her hands and kissed him again.
"No, I shall not run from you tomorrow, I promise." She breathed, kissing him once more before slipping from his arms and stepping quietly from the barn.
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Raising the silver goblet to his mouth, Arthur took a long, deep swallow as his green eyes flickered across the vast round table from one empty chair to another. Each one now a silent accolade to the fallen knight that once sat there proud and equal, but now lay instead, beneath the cold earth upon Baden Hill.
His sharp emerald gaze swept across huge frame of Dagonet - then Bors, both muttering quietly together and then stopped once again on an unexpectedly empty place. He said nothing, but the steady, piercing frown betrayed his growing annoyance. Tristan was absent yet again.
Arthur breathed an irritable sigh as he contemplated his scout's recent and unusual absences of late. Tristan - always ready, always there – trustworthy and dependable to the hilt and yet these last couple of weeks he had been annoyingly elusive. Lancelot had laughed when Arthur had mentioned his concerns 'It's a woman, would you believe?' he had snorted amused.
No, Arthur wouldn't believe and although he had no desire to know what that scout got up to, or with whom – or for that matter, what went on it that mysterious head of his, he wished distinctly that Tristan would keep to dropping his breeches on his own time and he would tell him as such, if this conduct continued.
Just as the thought left Arthur's head, in strode Tristan. The knights all fell quiet as he prowled silently across to his chair and sat down with just a single nod in Arthur's direction and not a word to anyone else around him.
"Been out chasing hares, again, Tristan?" Lancelot grinned across the table, breaking the awkward silence of the large and echoing hall. "By that frustrated look upon your face, I gather she slipped through your fingers yet again?" Gawain, Bors and the others began to chuckle into their wine as Lancelot's darkly amused eyes flashed and he added. "Waste not your time and effort on good Christian maidens, Tristan. Their mouths are constantly spouting their sanctimonious moral rot, whilst their legs remain firmly shut! That is of course, unless you have found God and plan to marry, said maiden!"
The table erupted into bellowing laughter, all except for Arthur who sat staring dispassionately across at his scout and Tristan, who though cool and silent, simmered away angrily within.
Just as the infuriatingly shrewd Lancelot had observed, his dark, irritable mood was indeed fuelled even more, by the still present ache in his loins from the unfulfilled longing to lay his claim on Juna.
He shot a cold stare back across at Lancelot who, still laughing, raised his goblet in cordial salute to his comrade. Tristan gave no response and simply turned his frown to Arthur.
"Glad you could join us, Tristan" Arthur said flatly, holding his scout's impertinent glare without falter. After several seconds, Tristan withdrew his silent challenge, condescending duly to his leader's displeasure. Arthur knew no more reprimand was necessary and signaled for his knights' full attention with three firm knocks upon the table from the goblet in his hand.
Immediately the men looked toward their leader, silent and attentive.
"Knights! Now we are all here" His spoke with an emphatic nod towards Tristan "I have good tidings to share…. I have word that the Bishop Germanus is to arrive here the day after the morrow. Bringing with him, as you know…. your dispatch papers……and your freedom!"
A unified cheer rippled around the table, goblets were raised up to the air and wine was drained.
"Did you hear that, Dag?" Bellowed Bors, banging the table repeatedly with a euphoric fist, "Freedom!"
Arthur paused, allowing his men a moment of rejoicing and then continued.
"It has been requested that we ride out to meet the caravan on the South Road and escort the Bishop's carriage back here to the Wall. We will leave at dawn on the morning of his arrival. I trust you all know what is required." Arthur smiled as he watched his knights' jubilation at the news. They had waited so long for this moment, had suffered so much. But still, he could not stay the shadow of sadness that cloaked his heart. He would miss these men. These faithful and courageous knights that had all laid their life down, for him and for each other, time and time again. He would die for each and every one of them and he knew each and every one, would die for him. His knights, his brothers, his friends. Arthur knew he would never know such loyalty and devotion from anyone ever again in his lifetime.
"Until then, I shall leave you to your wine and your song, my friends" Arthur bid them goodnight and made his way as usual, to his lonely quarters. Leaving the laughter and cheer of his knights behind him.