Ragnelle backed up a step as the man eased closer.
"If you want a ride girl, I can give you one."
She gritted her teeth, getting ready to kick out, which might give her enough of a gap to get away. On reflection it had not been a good idea to try the tavern in the hope of buying a horse there, but the man at the stables had seemed to ask for so much. Gwaine had given her what coins he could but she still had a distance to go. Before she could kick, as the man stretched his arm out to take grab her, another, huge, hand reached out to grab the man's wrist, it was followed up by a huge arm, attached to a huge man, moving into her line of sight.
Percival glowered at her unwanted admirer, who winced at the vice like grip.
"I believe the lady said no," Percival's voice rumbled dangerously.
"That wench is no lady," the man glared at her. She did still look a little ragged, so she supposed she couldn't really argue, however her saviour did nothing more than look increasingly thunderous. She watched his massive muscles tense up as he increased his grip and the man yelped.
"All right! She's all yours!"
Percival let go, still glowering. "Go away."
The man did exactly as he was told. Percival turned to Ragnelle, looking at her in concern.
"Are you all right?"
"Fine," she said, feeling her face flush. Percival looked a little lost as to what to say, and ended up babbling about practicalities.
"Surely if you are looking to buy a horse, the stables would be a better option."
Ragnelle cringed. "I don't know, it seemed so much and I know I need some way to get to Camelot, maybe there is a trader I could travel with..." She glanced at the man who had been seen off. "But I might just end up with something like... that."
"Quite," Percival said. "However, I am travelling to Camelot. If you wish, I can escort you, wherever you need to go."
He watched her frown and look at him. Although he was wearing his chain mail and weapons he had opted to leave his colours off, his cloak neatly wrapped up in his travel bag, tied to his horse. He could understand her scepticism given the scene he had walked in on.
"I can help you at least get a good deal on a horse, at the stables. I have money if you need some."
He had more than he needed for the journey he had taken, Arthur had given him some, and then Merlin had pressed some coins on him - not as much as Arthur by a long shot but more than Percival ever expected him to have - and it had been hard to refuse the insistent gesture. Then Gwen had done the same, then Leon and then Elyan. Percival had found it impossible to say no to any of them because they all wanted him to travel and find out what he could. Whatever he didn't use Percival had intended to return, starting with the poorest first, which meant Merlin, who had been the most eager of them all.
"And if you find someone more suitable, I can help you arrange your escort."
Ragnelle looked around. She was far from home, wandering in unfamiliar territory. There was no way she could go alone, she had no idea which way to go. The man in front of her looked trustworthy, he looked embarrassed and concerned. And if he wanted something of her, he was one man, as opposed to many; a situation now, she felt she could control, if it came to it. Slowly she nodded.
"Thank you, that is kind of you."
Percival gave an embarrassed half smile. "It is my duty, if you are travelling to Camelot. Let's go to the stables and organise a horse."
With that he swept her out of the tavern, to some muttered, and not so muttered comments. Percival refrained from breaking any noses on the way out, but decided he was coming at some point to hand out some retribution. He just didn't think he ought to do much in front of a woman. As they walked down the street, Percival carefully hanging at Ragnelle's side, they were silent until Ragnelle looked up.
"I'm sorry My Lord, I didn't ask your name."
"I think I'm at fault there. I am Sir Percival, of Camelot." He had no other home to mention. It took him a moment to realise that his charge had stopped walking and merely stared at him in shock. She blinked and then frowned.
"You're Sir Percival, of King Arthur's round table."
Percival felt himself blush, as she stared at him so intently, looking him up and down as if seeing something entirely new. Gwaine's words came back to her. 'When you get to Camelot, look for Merlin, he's Arthur's manservant, and also assistant physician. Or ask for Sir Percival. You can't miss him, he's huge!' Gwaine had said that to her with an affectionate smile on his face, mentioning Merlin had caused a twinge of sadness to flicker in his eyes. Whatever expression Gwaine had wore, it was quite clear the two men mentioned had been loved by him. Percival was certainly big enough to live up to the description.
"You know Prince Gwaine?"
The change on Percival's face gave her the instant inkling that she had found who she needed. His concerned frown faded away to be converted into hopeful, almost childlike, joy.
"You know Gwaine. You've seen him... recently?"
He stepped forward without thinking, putting his hand on her arm. By sheer reflex Ragnelle shied away from him, her body tensing and breath hitching. Percival froze, backing up violently, almost walking into someone passing behind him. The moment he spent apologising to them gave her time to get her thoughts together and calm herself down.
"Sorry," Percival said again, this time to her. "But he's all right? Gwaine; he's okay? When you saw him?"
"Just three days ago, and he was fine. He asked me to find you, to go to the king and tell him... he gave me a message." She stumbled through the words and then paused. "I think for all of you."
Percival nodded. "I will escort you to Camelot, Arthur will want to hear this, and Merlin and all of us. We'll get you a horse, and... are you all right?"
On hearing that she had not eaten that day Percival insisted on securing the horse, which he did with a minimum of fuss, and he was treated with far more respect that she was. Something which he corrected by sternly upbraiding the stable owner for trying to take advantage of a woman on her own. He left the horse with his own, and orders for them to be saddled within the hour. Then he took her back to the tavern and they sat down to eat.
As they ate the stew, which needed more fennel in her opinion, and nibbled the bread, she gave Percival a condensed version of her meeting with Gwaine, and she tried to circumvent the situation that brought it about. He clearly understood what that was but rather than the repulsion she expected, she saw the angry darkening of his eyes. He knew what the euphemisms meant, and they looked personal to him, and Ragnelle had enough of a mind to know it wasn't her his thoughts were of. Then she switched to her meeting with Gwaine, and her rescue and Percival looked assured by her descriptions of the prince.
Occasionally Percival blinked. "Sorry, it is odd to think of him like that. To me he was just Gwaine, a wanderer like me, who happened to find a family."
"And now you find he has one already."
Percival looked down at the remains of his stew, stirring it slowly. He gave a long heavy sigh.
"Maybe. But he didn't want to. He only did it for Merlin."
"Who's Merlin? Gwaine mentioned him. Sounded like he liked him."
"We all do. He's the king's manservant, and learning to be the castle physician. But he's Arthur's friend, he's my friend, and Gwaine's friend. Like our annoying little brother that we can't seem to get rid of. And he's not afraid to call the king a clotpole."
"Really?"
"Really," Percival assured her. Ragnelle lowered his head and thought for a moment before lifting her head again, a frown crossing her features.
"What's a clotpole?"
For the first time since Gwaine's revelations Percival couldn't help but laugh.
"In two words, King Arthur."
That drew a smile from Ragnelle and the pair of them both relaxed for the first time in days. Percival looked down at the remains of their meal and then at the sun, still reasonably high in the sky.
"We had better get going. Although we won't make Camelot until tomorrow, it will be morning when we get there."
Ragnelle nodded, but a thought occurred to her. "I've delivered the message, so you don't need to take me."
Percival frowned, but only slightly. "Since Gwaine sent you this way, I presume he wanted us to look after you. So we will."
To the point that Percival did crack a few heads on the way out, just on principle.
XxxxxxxxxxxxxX
Gwaine had never seen anyone as pleased to see him as Benjamin was. On their return to the castle the youth had been there to greet him, and Gwaine got the feeling the boy would have hugged him if the rest of the audience hadn't been present. Instead he had taken Gwaine's equipment and saddle bags. In response Gwaine had patted him on the head, complemented him on the new tunic he was wearing - which looked like a patchwork of several sewn together - and asked him how he was getting on with the list of chores he had left. Before Benjamin could answer him, Lot strode across the courtyard.
"Didn't try to run then!" he hollered at Gwaine. Benjamin shuffled away, lowering his head respectfully as the king advanced. Gwaine stepped sideways to face his father, putting himself between him and Benjamin.
"No, Sire." Gwaine said. "The bandits are dealt with."
Lot waved his hand as if he hadn't any concerns over the raids.
"As long as you enjoyed yourself."
Gwaine raised his eyebrows. "It's not about enjoying yourself it's about keeping control of your kingdom."
"The kingdom is fine. These things happen."
Gwaine clenched his fists, but he knew it was futile to carry on the argument.
"If you will excuse me Sire, I rather need to refresh myself. Benjamin, go and get everything ready."
The serving boy bobbed his head and mumbled before running off into the castle carrying his burden. Lot eyed Gwaine carefully, but nodded. "Very well. I will expect you to dine with us tonight."
"Yes, Sire," Gwaine snarled through gritted teeth, turning to head into the castle, just in time to hear Gaheris' loud voice.
"He's even got a new little outfit."
Benjamin hung his head, unable to walk away, since he was faced with one of the royal family. Shaylee eyed the scene with malicious delight. Gwaine walked towards them, glaring at Gaheris, who turned to glare back, although there was a wariness to his brother's stance.
"Dressing him like a jester now. Does he do tricks?"
Benjamin didn't look up, but the tilt of his head indicated he knew Gwaine was there.
"A fair few, he cleans like a demon, polishes even better than that, and he doesn't open the shutters until I'm ready," Gwaine said casually, then he took Benjamin's shoulders and gave his outfit an appraising look. "Sews quite well too. As for the outfit, I like it," he added with great enthusiasm. He ruffled Benjamin's hair again. "Come on, I'll need a wash before dining with such esteemed company."
Gaheris frowned. "What?"
"Oh, don't know you. I'm dining with you tonight." Gwaine smiled pleasantly. It was the last thing he wanted to do, unless of course Gaheris was going to choke on his food, which would be a sight to enjoy. Gaheris had however turned purple and spun on his heel to stalk away. Gwaine smirked and added.
"I wouldn't bother father just now, he's no doubt giving Meliodas an in depth interrogation about my activities. I'm sure I can fill any gaps in over dinner. Come along Benjamin."
Gwaine ambled off with his servant scurrying behind.
XxxxxxxxxxxxxX
"Well?" Lot demanded, as Gwaine's prediction had been entirely accurate. Meliodas had been ordered to attend the king in his chambers, which he had done so promptly. Meliodas inclined his head at the question.
"There is very little to report. Prince Gwaine conducted himself admirably."
Lot snorted. "In what way."
Meliodas considered that for a moment. "He is an excellent tracker, appears to be a fairly natural leader. Although he can be quite reckless when it comes to a fight."
He watched Lot chuckle slightly. "There is that about him. Was he in any danger."
"None," Meliodas said. "I stayed as close as possible, but quite frankly the prince's skill meant he easily outmatched the bandits. He appears to be used to such tasks."
"Yes," Lot snarled, at the reference to Gwaine's knighthood from Arthur. "He made no attempt to run?"
Meliodas kept his face calm, he was extremely skilled at hiding his emotions, something he thought Gwaine ought to improve about himself, but didn't comment on that.
"No, there was no inclination I saw. It appears your threat held him in place."
"You think he would have tried, had I not held the serving brat hostage?"
"That as well," Meliodas said. "But if I can be frank My Lord, the prince has nowhere to go."
"He'd run back to Camelot," Lot said slouching back in his chair and picking up his wine goblet took a hefty swig. The serving boy lingering nearby edged forward to fill it up. Lot paid him no heed, although he would have if he failed in his duties, instead the king kept his eye on the man in front of him. Meliodas noted he was offered nothing, and would not presume to take anything. It was another difference between the king and Gwaine. Despite him being foisted on the prince, Gwaine had no petty feelings, and appeared more than generous.
While he thought Meliodas schooled his features, his mind calculating behind the mask what he could say to appease his king, without compromising Gwaine.
"I doubt he would, because it would be the first place you would look to. Whether he went there or not, it would be what you assume."
"Of course, and my son would want to protect that Pendragon brat!"
"And you also."
Lot smirked. "Really?"
"Your safety may be compromised if you war with Camelot. I believe Gwaine has people on both sides he wishes to protect."
Lot eyed Meliodas steadily. He could see the challenge in the king's eye, as if expecting something else. Meliodas again made a fast calculation before adding.
"However, there was also the woman."
"What woman?" Lot asked looking a little appeased. Meliodas knew from that, one of the other men had been spoken to before him.
"The raiders had taken a woman from one of the nearby villages, a young bride."
"Gwaine always had an eye for a pretty face. What did he do with the wench?"
"Took her to the convent that lies just beyond the ridge, close to border with Caerleon."
"Really? I would have thought he'd bring a pretty girl back here. I presume she was ugly."
"Far from it. But he appears to have too much honour for that. I already knew stories of the prince, he likes them willing, not obligated."
Lot huffed. "I remember he had no shortage of willing."
"I don't doubt that." Meliodas' face didn't change. "But he would not want to bring anyone else that could be used as a pawn into danger. Plus, I believe he had another agenda."
"Which was what?"
"To get her to somehow get a message to Camelot. He took considerable time talking to her before he left, as if he was giving her instructions."
Lot sat forward. "The convent beyond the ridge?"
"Yes, but the girl is no threat, most likely the prince instructed her to merely inform his friends of his well-being."
"There could be something else to it," Lot snarled.
"I sincerely doubt it Sire. The prince knows he is cornered, and cannot move without causing some retaliation."
"I can always remove that little brat he seems to like so much," Lot mused, staring into the goblet. "That might stay his hand."
"Or it may force it My Lord."
Lot looked up sharply, glaring at the man in front of him. "And what does that mean?"
"You have used Benjamin's safety as a way to hold Gwaine. But Gwaine can use that in his own way; you take Benjamin away and there is no threat. The moment that boy is removed you have no hold. If Gwaine holds him close, then it leaves him shackled to you."
"And what he asked of this whore?"
"To convey a message maybe, he wouldn't wish any of his comrades to attempt anything. Assure them of his well-being and they make no move. A threat to them may also force the prince to retaliate."
Lot looked unsatisfied with the reasoning. "You may be correct."
"It is little short of a stalemate," Meliodas agreed. "But one that leaves you with an advantage."
"Which is?"
"You have the prince where you want him. The tethers you have keep him there."
Lot inhaled steadily, and took another gulp of wine, slamming the goblet down on the table. The serving boy inched forward, until Lot's glare swivelled in his direction.
"Get out!"
"Yes, My Lord," the boy mumbled stumbling over his feet in his haste to escape unscathed. Meliodas received the same order a moment later. He went left, intending to return to his quarters in the barracks. Going immediately to Gwaine would be too much of a risk. The little serving boy had gone right. He only took two corners before someone stepped to block his path.
Looking up at the blonde woman his eyes honed in on the glittering coin she held in her hand, before he looked up to meet her gaze.
Shaylee held out the coin, and tilted her head, a smile lifting the corners of her mouth.
"Well?" she asked.
