I'm very sorry, please accept my apologies. I've been SOOOO busy, you have no idea. But here we go. It's a bit short, but I hope you like it. :)

Chapter Nine

Hermione sighed as she paced again. Her dress was filthy and she'd been in this wretched cell for THREE days. Galahad had come every day – sometimes twice, and she had had other numerous visitors, including Guinevere, who had smuggled in some good food for her. But she was growing restless. She was confined to this cell with nothing to do all day, but wait, and maybe practice a little magic. Not to mention the countless hours she'd spent thinking about Ron and Harry – worrying about them and their little predicament. Hermione wondered if they were missing her – she was certainly missing them.

She sighed huffily as the guards threw her some bread and placed a pitcher of water in her cell. The guards gave her grim smiles and she returned them, wondering just why they were being so kind to her. She guessed Arthur and the knights had given them words.

Suddenly there was a yell, and the door to the dungeons slammed open. "Delco, Humigh, the Saxons are here!" An unknown guard shouted, frantically gesturing to the door. "They're calling us to the wall, all of us." He said hurriedly, and the guards followed him out the door, armour clanking.

Hermione drew in a sharp breath. She had to get out. Right that very second, and help them fight off the wretched Saxons. Looking around, she saw that the dungeons were deserted, the executions having been carried out that morning. Her eyes focused on the first step, leading up to the door. Closing her eyes and picturing that step in her mind, she concentrated, her mind going blank, only the image of that step circling through her mind.

Nothing. "Bugger."

~The Legendary~

The Bishop scowled at the sight before him. The Saxons were camped out in front of the castle, attempting to intimidate them. It was working, but he wasn't going to admit that. He called for Arthur. "We are leaving. I will not endanger the lives of Romans by staying. You are very welcome to follow." He said, before leaving the Head Knight standing to face his own knights.

Horton caught up with him easily. "Sir, this could be an advantage." He said, smirking up at the taller, more powerful of the two. "By allowing the Saxons to invade, we do not have to battle these Britons for this land. One of our problems has been solved." He said, watching as the Bishop's face began to change from a scowl to a smirk, identical to that of his manservant.

"You are very right, Horton. We shall leave Britain to the Saxons." He smiled, quite satisfied with his brilliant mind.

~The Legendary~

Hermione huffed for the umpteenth time in twenty minutes. She closed her eyes again, took a deep breath – again, and concentrated. The step. The first step. I need to be there. She thought, and feeling the sensation of being squeezed, smiled when she opened her eyes, standing on the first step leading up to the door.

She ran up the stairs, checking that she had everything – all of her body parts that is, and out the doors, through a maze of stone walls until she was officially lost. She sighed angrily, feeling the grime and dirt in every inch of her skin. But there was no time to be lost – or dirty, because the Saxons were going to attack. "Argh!" She shouted in frustration.

She picked up the pace, hoping to find someone, who could take her outside, maybe give her a bath, and she could put up protective wards on the castle. She bit down on her lip, each step echoing through the unusually quiet castle. Where was everyone?

BANG! She fell backwards, landing on her bum with absolutely no grace whatsoever. "So sorry –" She began, but stopped, when she realised who it was.

"So the witch has escaped, I see." The Bishop announced to his manservant, an evil grin on his face. "Horton, bind her. I have the perfect gift for our Saxon friends."

Hermione let out a gasp of outrage, standing quite fast and turning from the two 'holy men', her feet attempting to run. But before she even made it three steps, something hit her in the back of the head and she fell to the ground, into unconsciousness.

When Hermione awoke, the first thing she felt was the rope around her wrists. She opened her eyes in an instant, the feeling of something moving between her legs un pleasantly, and finally looking down to find herself bound to a horse, headed toward some kind of camp. The sun was going down, the camp fires flaring into life as the horse approached.

Panic filled her when her eyes focused in on her intended receivers, the Saxons. She struggled against her bonds, desperately wishing for her wand. "No, no, no..." She hissed, doom threatening to knock her out again.

She pulled at the reins desperately, but the horse was determined to find humans, and shelter from the snow. She mentally kicked the horse. "Bugger." She said, defeated.

When they finally caught sight of her, the whole army was brought to the edge of the camp, three men, leaders, Hermione guessed, made their way toward her, their weapons ready. They spoke to each other in their own language as she finally approached, now sitting on the horse properly, her mind at the ready to fling a spell.

Meanwhile, Galahad frowned as he entered the dungeons to find them empty. Where was Hermione? Just then the doors opened and Arthur walked in, his blue eyes filled with worry.

"Galahad." He said, greeting him with a hand on the shoulder. "The Bishop told me that she'd been packed up with the rest of the prisoners, and sent on their way. I told him that you were to take charge of her when you caught up with them."

Galahad stared. "You're not thinking of staying, are you?" He groaned, pressing his palm to his face. "You are a stupid man if you think you can stand against them." He said bluntly.

"I won't be alone. Listen, Galahad, you have been a true friend, and you will always be a knight worthy of true happiness, but this is something I believe in doing. It is my fault this land is in such turmoil, and now, I must fix it." He said humbly, walking out of the dungeons and leaving Galahad to his thoughts.

It wasn't long until he was on the road, searching for the prisoners' cart, having located it. Gawain rode beside him as they came upon it, stopping the Roman guards. "You there, we are here to collect a prisoner." Gawain said, speaking up for his best mate. "A woad girl with bushy hair." He gestured to the cart.

The guard furrowed his brows. "There are no women here." He said, looking confused.

Galahad gave him a glare, pulling his sword from the sheath. "You will tell me where she is, or lose your head." He said dangerously. The guard gulped. "Show me the cart."

The guard complied and opened the rickety cart to reveal men, who looked close to death, cowering in their bonds. Why the Romans would want these men, Galahad and Gawain had no idea. But there was no Hermione.

Gawain growled. "The Bishop." Galahad looked at him, realisation dawning in his eyes.

"The bloody bishop." He agreed, and the two of them rode off to find the Bishop.