Chapter Nine
The Fight to Return

The Saxon army was just across the lake from the Knights, and Dagonet could see one of the Saxons step forward from the army. The Saxon raised a bow and fired off an arrow. Dagonet watched as the arrow hit the ice approximately halfway between the two groups.

"I believe they're waiting for an invitation," Arthur commented, "Bors, Tristan."

"They're far out of range," Guinevere objected.

Arthur just looked at her and Dagonet smiled. "Just watch," the healer told her quietly.

Bors and Tristan pulled back their loaded bows and let their arrows fly. Tristan, having fired off four arrows at once, watched with grim satisfaction when four Saxons fell to the ground, transfixed with his arrows.

Then the Saxon army started forward and all the Knights, Guinevere, and Nova raised their bows.

"Aim for the wings of the ranks," Arthur commanded, "Make them cluster."

They fired off their arrows at the right flank and nine Saxons fell dead. The Saxons on the right side moved closer to the middle, and Dagonet guessed they were afraid of getting shot like their companions. After firing off only four more volleys at both flanks of the Saxon army, Arthur tossed his bow aside.

"It's not going to break," Arthur told them, "Back, fall back."

The Knights picked up their extra arrows and other weapons and started moving back.

Arthur drew his sword, "Prepare for combat."

All the Knights followed suit, pulling out their weapons of choice, while Guinevere, Nova, and Tristan held onto their bows. They stood, waiting, and Dagonet decided to take matters into his own hands. He dropped his sword, grabbed his ax and ran forward, shouting obscenities.

"Dag!" Bors yelled after his brother, but Dagonet wasn't listening. The healer stopped closer to the Saxons than to his friends and began striking at a crack in the ice with his ax.

"Cover him!" Arthur shouted.

Nova, Guin and Tristan all fired off arrows, keeping the Saxon archers at bay, though only momentarily. One of the Saxons managed to get an arrow in Dagonet's side, but still the healer kept on, ignoring the pain.

.~~~~~~~.

Tristan saw Dagonet rushing the ice, Saxon archers obviously noticing the big Knight as well. Muttering curses under his breath, Tristan fired one last arrow before grabbing Dagonet's shield that he'd left behind. As he ran toward Dagonet, he heard shouting from behind him, but decidedly ignored it. Once he reached Dagonet, Tristan held the shield in front of the other Knight, protecting him from the continuous barrage of Saxon arrows.

A low rumble sounded beneath his feet and Tristan felt the ice beginning to crack around him. Saxons began to fall through the newly opened cracks, slipping into freezing watery depths that silenced their cries. Soon, only a handful of Saxons were left and they were in a mad scramble back in the direction they had come from.

Tristan felt himself slipping toward the water but strong hands pulled him away. He looked up to see Bors and the Sarmatian girl helping him and Dagonet away from the water and toward the shore. A twinge of pain in his side surprised him and he pressed his hand to the pain. It came away red. In the midst of protecting his friend, Tristan hadn't even noticed that he himself had been injured.

"Hang on, Tristan," Bors' voice sounded far away, echoing, "We'll get you and Dag taken care of."

.~~~~~~~.

As Nova and Bors carried the two injured towards the other Knights, Nova glanced over at Tristan, wondering what made him want to help Dagonet so badly. She could see a slight hint of worry in the Scout's brown eyes and she stared at him, curious.

Tristan looked up and stared right back. His brown gaze seemed to be accusing her, as if she'd been listening in on some private conversation that wasn't meant for her ears. His eyes were soon drifting out of focus, blood creating a bigger ring around the bit of arrow that still protruded from his side.

Nova watched him for a moment longer and looked away, focusing on not slipping on the ice beneath her feet. She was still very curious about Tristan, and Dagonet, too, for that matter. Most men she had known would do anything to save themselves; they wouldn't sacrifice their own lives to save others.

Once they reached the wagons, Fulcinia, Marius's widow, came rushing out and helped them to get Dagonet into one wagon and Tristan into another. Guinevere climbed into the wagon with Dagonet and she and Fulcinia began to minister to the big Knight's wounds.

The rest of the Knights mounted up and the caravan was ready to move out.

"You should ride out here, girl," Gawain told Nova.

Nova shook her head, pulling herself up onto the back of the cart where Tristan was.

"Well, fine then," Gawain couldn't help but smile at her.

"Thank you, Nova," Bors spoke up as he rode up to them. "You saved my brother's life again. He owes you double now. We all owe you."

Nova shook her head, "You owe me nothing."

"But you saved my brother's life!" Bors exclaimed.

"And you all saved mine," Nova countered quietly.

Gawain looked at Bors. "Let it be, Bors, you're fighting a losing battle with this one."

"Fine," Bors grumbled, "But thank you just the same."

Nova just nodded and watched Bors ride forward. Why were they all paying so much attention to her? Sure she'd helped out one or two of them, but that wasn't any reason to suddenly be so friendly and welcoming, was it? She wasn't used to being noticed, let alone thanked. With an exasperated sigh, she ducked inside the cart to check on Tristan.

.~~~~~~~.

Hands. Soft hands gently applied something cool to his side. Tristan's eyes snapped open, gradually coming into focus. The Sarmatian girl, Dag had called her Nova, was wrapping a poultice of some kind on his injury. She glanced at him before tying off the bandage around his waist and sitting back.

"You should be alright now," she offered quietly, "You're lucky."

"Thank you," Tristan replied, "Just doing my job."

He saw her frown and he could have sworn there was a mixture of surprise and confusion in her eyes. But she said nothing.

"You helped as well," he stated.

She looked away, "You saved me first. Now we're even."

He chuckled then winced, putting a hand to his side, "I suppose."

"Be careful," her voice was barely above a whisper, "You need to rest."

He merely nodded. Then a thought struck him, "Where's Hawk?"

She offered a quick smile, "With Galahad."

With a sigh, Tristan relaxed slightly, laying back on the furs of the cart. "Good," he looked at her, "Everyone else?"

She nodded, "Thanks to you and Dagonet no one else is injured."

Tristan saw her watching him and he sensed the questions in those emerald eyes. She was far different than he'd expected and he wasn't yet sure if that was a good or a bad thing. He could normally read people and understand their motives within minutes, but this girl was confusing him. Besides, he realized that he hadn't been this close to a woman in, well, too long. Not that there was anything happening here, but if she wanted… He quickly looked away from her, trying to push those thoughts out of his head. She was damn beautiful, there was no denying that, and one hell of an archer, and her body... He wasn't going to let his mind go down that road.

"Rumor has it you're from Sarmatia," he commented after a few minutes of silence, "Is it true?"

Nova looked at him and narrowed her eyes. "What if it is?"

"I am only curious as to which part of Sarmatia you are from and how you came to be here," Tristan paused, "We are all Sarmatians, us Knights, and we always enjoy hearing of others like us."

Nova stared at him for a moment, one black eyebrow raised. "I'm from a small village in the Eastern region," she told him quietly.

"Really?" He asked.

She nodded.

"That's interesting."

"Why?"

Tristan smiled slightly, "Only that I am also from the same area. Or nearby, anyway."

Nova blinked, but didn't say anything.

"What happened, Nova?" Tristan asked gently.

She looked at him. "Why?"

"Why what?" he asked.

"Why do you care?"

"Because you're one of us," he told her, "And I want to know how such a courageous, young woman like yourself could be so calloused towards the world. That mindset is more fitting for men like myself."

She sighed and looked away again. "I was kidnapped and sold," she said only just loud enough for Tristan to hear, "I was treated like I was nothing. I knew I would get back home, eventually, that it was only a matter of time. Then I was bought by Marius and when I refused to do what he told me, I was thrown into the dungeon with the others." She looked him in the eye, "I don't want your pity. I've had enough of that."

The cart stopped then, before Tristan could respond to what Nova had just confided, and the curtain at the back opened.

"How's he doing?" Arthur looked from Nova to Tristan, "Do you feel alright?"

Tristan nodded, struggling to sit up through the pain in his side, "You need me out there?"

Arthur shook his head, "No, not right now. Rest up. We've stopped for the night."

Nova looked at Tristan, "He has a point."

Tristan frowned. He didn't like feeling like this. He had to move, had to do something useful. "Fine, I'll rest. But out there with the others. I'm no invalid."

A brief smile crossed Nova's face as she reached out to help him out of the cart, "Of course."

With Nova's help, he got out of the cart and into the cool night air. Sure, he'd been shot, but he would heal. He'd had worse.

"Here," Bors approached them, holding Tristan's leather coat out to him, "Dag fixed this up for you."

The Scout nodded his thanks and with Nova's assistance slipped the jacket over his bare torso. The hole from the arrow was all stitched up nicely. No one would be able to tell.

"How is Dagonet?" Tristan asked.

"He'll live," Bors replied, "Thanks to you and her. Oh, Hawk's looking for you."

On cue, a dark winged bullet dropped from the sky, landing on Tristan's outstretched arm. Tristan smiled at the bird, stroking her head and murmuring softly to her. Hawk turned her head slightly, eying Nova. The girl watched Hawk, slowly extending her own hand toward the bird. Without hesitation, Hawk jumped from Tristan's arm to Nova's hand. Nova winced slightly as the sharp talons dug into her skin. The bird ruffled her feathers and closed her eyes.

Tristan smiled, "She likes you. She doesn't like many people."

Nova smiled back at him, "She's beautiful."

"And smart," Tristan chuckled, "Come, let's help set up camp."

Nova followed him, carrying the precious cargo as Tristan helped the other Knights to set up a fire and sleeping areas. The Scout gently took Hawk from Nova, getting the bird to instead rest on a makeshift perch made of sticks. He reached up to remove his horse's saddle and packs and bit back a wince of pain. His wound was still too fresh, he couldn't move like he was used to.

"Here," Nova stepped in, her long hair flowing past his face as she pulled the saddle and packs and set them on the ground. "Anything else I can help with?"

He was at a loss for words. A strange feeling gripped his stomach, like a strong hand wrenching tightly. Here he was just staring at her again… Clearing his throat, he reached for a fur blanket, spreading it out next to the saddle.

"You should get some sleep," he told her.

She shrugged, "I suppose."

"If you're not tired, you can sit by the fire," he offered, "If you want to."

She shrugged again, "I don't really want to be near the others. Too many questions that I prefer not to answer."

Tristan nodded, a small smile playing on his face. He definitely understood that feeling.

"Whatever you want," he told her.

Abruptly she sat on the bed of fur he'd just made, pulling her legs underneath her, and watching him. He sat next to her, reaching into his saddle pack for some food which he held out to her.

"Eat."

She took the offered food, a grateful look on her face.

"You want me to put something on that?" he asked, pointing to the talon marks Hawk had made on her hand.

"I'd forgotten about it already," she replied, "If you have something..."

Reaching into his saddle pack, he pulled out a small bit of cloth and a leather pouch. He took two or three herb leaves from the pouch, placing them on the cloth and reaching toward her hand. Gently, he wrapped the makeshift poultice around the wound, tying off the cloth and sitting back. "That should make it feel better for a while."

"Thank you," she said softly.

He smiled and gave her a slight nod.

They sat in silence for a little while, Tristan all too aware that she was watching his every move, even as he kept a keen eye on everything else that was going on in the camp. He was also very aware that she had inched closer and he struggled to not look at her for more than a second or two. He could have sworn that those green eyes of hers were magic.

"All of you Knights are working for Rome?" Nova asked suddenly, slightly startling Tristan.

He nodded, "Just the six of us left now."

"I grew up hearing the stories," she told him, "Romans coming around the villages every fifteen years for a fresh set of young men to train and use for the Empire."

"Not just stories after all," he commented dryly.

She watched him, "How much longer until you're through serving Rome? Until you're free?"

Tristan eyed her for a moment before looking away, "This is our final mission."

"You don't appear happy about it."

He shrugged, "Honestly, I have nothing to go back to. I enjoy this," he waved his hand around at the surrounding trees. "For the most part, at least. I don't know what I'll do with the freedom Rome will give us."

"Tristan!" Galahad's voice interrupted from near the main fire, "We need you over here."

With a sigh, the Scout stood, glancing at Nova, "I'll be right back."

She nodded.

As Tristan approached the fire, Galahad reached a hand out toward the Scout's injury but Tristan deftly dodged out of the way. "What do you need?"

"You're kind of a hero, you know, saving Dagonet like you did," Galahad grinned, a half empty bottle of ale in his hand. "Also, Lancelot wanted me to ask you when you're going to sleep with that new girl."

Tristan sighed audibly. "You're drunk, Galahad. Stop stooping to Lancelot's level. Go get some sleep."

"But," the younger Knight reached unsuccessfully for Tristan's arm, "You didn't answer my question."

"Not your business," the Scout replied, "Good night, Galahad."

Tristan turned, leaving a mumbling Galahad and the others, heading back to his horse. He stopped short when he saw the scene before him. There she was fast asleep and all curled up in the furs he'd laid out, Hawk watching with one eye open as if to make sure the girl was alright. Now, he was in a quandary. He realized he was so very tired, but here Nova was, taking up the space where he was supposed to sleep. He didn't have the time nor energy to make another bed elsewhere, but he didn't want to break into her personal space.

After a moment's indecision, he laid down on top of the furs next to her, taking off his coat and using it as a blanket for his torso so as not to disturb the furs Nova was using. He purposely faced away from her, giving as much space as was possible between them. He had barely closed his eyes when he heard her stirring and a warm hand on his back.

"I'm sorry," she murmured sleepily, "I stole your bed."

He craned his neck back to look at her, "It's alright. I'm okay here."

She shook her head, "No. Here," she pulled the top fur back so there was ample room for him to slide underneath.

"A-Are you sure?" He stammered. She was only sharing the fur blanket, he told his panicky brain, nothing more.

Smiling, she nodded.

He obliged, sliding between the layers of fur. It was warmer than he expected, but then again he hadn't had someone next to him to increase the temperature in a while. He still lay with his back to her and as far as he knew she had hers to him as well, but then he felt her hand on his side and her face against his back. He forced himself to lay still, just keep his eyes closed and sleep.

As he began to drift into sleep, he was vaguely aware of how comfortable sleeping like this was, how warm she was, her extra body heat creating a nice space in the middle of the cold winter. Just before he fell into dreamland, he could have sworn he heard her whisper "thank you, Tristan," but for all he knew, it could have been his imagination.


Author's Note: Yes, I'm alive! Ha! And so are our boys and Nova. ;) Hopefully this story will finish up nicely now that my damn King Arthur muse has returned (after TEN years!). Anyways, hope you enjoyed this new chapter. I've got the next one nearly finished as well, so look for it next Friday for FanFictionFriday! :) Also, please let me know what you think, as I am completely aware that I haven't worked on this story in about a decade and the style may have slightly shifted. I hope it's not too jarring.