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AN: I am sorry that it took me so long to update. As usual, thank you to may reviewers, your input is much appreciated. Please read and review!

Chapter 14 Last Breaths of Freedom

It was very late and the tavern was nearly empty. All of the knights, except Tristan and Dagonet, had long since found their beds or someone to share their beds. Cassia still sat at the bar casually speaking to the villagers. She would glance over from time, but she seemed unfazed by Tristan's continued presence. Tristan, on the other hand, had been watching her since she had doused him in ale, from beneath his fringe. Dagonet had noticed his comrade's tense demeanor. Dag had his suspicions about the woman ever since she ventured to their table earlier in the evening, but at this point Tristan's body language was worrying him.

"You want to tell me who she is," Dagonet asked as he took a sip of his ale. Tristan just grunted as he moved his gaze to Dag. "Okay, do you mind telling me why you were showered in ale earlier tonight?"

"We had a disagreement," he said menacingly. "Going to check on my horse," he said as he stood and downed the last of his ale.

Dagonet sat in contemplative silence finishing the rest of his own drink when Cassia sat herself next to him. "You look like you have too much on your mind," she said sympathetically as she looked around the tavern.

"You have things to worry about too, if you have the scout mad at you," he chuckled as he looked at her closely. There were the remnants of bruises around her face and she looked a bit worse for wear beneath her cool exterior. Her long hair covered her shoulders and back preventing him from seeing any future damage.

"He didn't do this, if that's what you're thinking," she said reading his expression perfectly.

"I…How do you know him," Dagonet couldn't think of anything better to say.

"You know why. I can see it in your eyes, you just can't figure out how," her voice was like velvet as she lightly yawned seemingly bored with the conversation. "He found me in the forest. I had been captured by Woads and he rescued me. Let's just say I'm not the most grateful of damsels."

Dagonet chuckled as he saw the spirit return to her eyes. "You are a brave woman to throw a drink in my brother's face. He has killed men over smaller disrespects," Dagonet said but with mirth because he saw that she was no hardened criminal but a simple spirited woman.

"I am his to do with as he pleases, but he will not kill me. He has already made that clear. However, I face reprimand when we meet again," she sighed lazily as she ran her index finger over the rim of his empty mug. For any other woman this action would seem a desperate attempt at seduction, but Cassia was simply a relaxed woman. There was nothing seductive in her, not because she was not attractive, but she simply wasn't interested.

"What do you mean that you are simply his to do with as he pleases," Dagonet questioned confusedly.

"I am in his debt far more than I can ever repay," she whispered as she looked wistfully around the tavern. "But it is late. Not a time to be speaking of such depressing matters. I fear I am exhausted and must retire for the evening," she yawned as she stood to leave.

"But how do you mean?"

"Fret not, I shall be around quite often to tell you all you wish to know, but tonight I wish for rest."

"Forgive me, milady. I will escort you to your home. It is so late I could not let you walk along; it would weigh on me greatly," Dagonet said gently as he rose with her.

"Thank you sir, I am not so proud as to deny your company. It has been so long since someone beside myself has watched over me," she said as she linked arms with Dag and headed for her lodgings. As they came to the inn that she was residing at, she slipped from his grasp. She turned to him and kissed his cheek as before entering to the inn.

Though before she could close the door, he said, "Lady, I never heard you name."

"Cassia, and you are Dagonet gentle healer among wounded spirits," she said with a ghost of a smile as she disappeared into the dark inn. Dagonet just watched her disappeared with a gentle smile creeping into his features.

Tristan had been watching from the shadows as Dag had walked his property to her lodgings. He had been tending his dappled steed when he heard their voices passing the stables. Tristan was not curious by nature, but something inside him told him that it was in his best interest to follow. He had quickly provided his mount with hay and water and exited the barn like the wraith that so many accused him of being. He had seen Dag walk her up to the door to the only other inn in the village. Then he saw her kiss his cheek. Tristan's anger flared as he watched the gentleness in both of their smiles from his place in the shadows. Had he been able to hear what was being said, he would have feared not. However, Tristan could not hear them and began to fear that the others might take to her as well. That was just what he needed, his brothers in arms turning against him for a common thief.

Tristan turned from the scene and stalked back into the stables. Seating himself in the stall with his mount, he laid his head back against the wall. His hawk perched itself on his shoulder and lovingly began to nip at his braids. "I'm a fool," he said in his gravelly voice to his feathered companion. The bird cocked its head to the side and just looked at him as though he was making little sense. "Am I doing the right thing? I mean she stole from me, the only thing I still value," he was cut off as the bird dug its talons into his shoulder through his thin tunic. "Okay, okay. The only other thing I still value in this life." The bird immediately loosened its grip as though it understood him completely. "But, I can't help but think that I'm wrong. Hell, I'm little more than a glorified slave myself, for Rome to do with as it pleases. Can I truly condemn another to a fate that I detest for my self?" Tristan threw his head back against the wall causing a loud thud, but the bird wasn't spooked.

The hawk just sat their preening its feathers while Tristan tried to sort his muddled thoughts out. The bird was hungry, but Tristan knew that it would stay as long as he fought this inner battle, silently lending its support. "You may go hunt my friend. I will not keep you from your meal, for I may be here all night," Tristan whispered as he shrugged his shoulder giving the magnificent hawk lift. The hawk cocked its head toward him once more than flew out of the stable without looking back. Tristan sighed heavily and leaned against the wall once more. His thoughts followed him into a restless sleep, atop the hay that he had laid out for his steed.

Tristan was woken late in the morning by his mount's persistent nose. The horse was obviously hungry as it tried to get to the hay beneath the scout's body. Tristan slowly opened his eyes to come face to nose with his horse. Tristan groaned and was about to role onto his back when he realized that his hawk was nested on the small of his back since he had been lying on his stomach. Looking over his shoulder, the scout saw that the bird had indeed curled up on his back and looking to be resting peacefully with its beak tucked beneath its wing. The scout inwardly smiled at the hawk's loyalty. Before Tristan could move, the hawk raised its head and stared him straight in the eye. "It's late, eh," he said to the bird and it awkwardly found its way to his shoulder, talons digging into his flesh the entire way. "You been here long," the scout questioned as he stood. The hawk just stared at him. "Well I decided what I'm going to do," to that the bird looked at him with interest.

Just before passing into unconsciousness, the previous night, Tristan had decided to speak to Cassia once more before he decided if his decision was a wise one. He just hoped that he would not receive another mug of ale to the face for his efforts. Once Tristan was up he headed out of the stables to look for his fiery Roman slave.

Morning came all too quickly for Cassia since she only had one day left till her unfortunate enslavement. She rose before dawn and did the days wash before the sun had even made its daily appearance in the morning sky. She retrieved breakfast from the innkeeper's wife as she returned and made her way into the market. Cassia had only three gold pieces left to her name. She had sold all she had and given away her only possession that was worth more than one piece of silver. Cassia decided that she would spend her final earnings on something nice, though she knew not what.

Cassia wandered through the bustling market that she had been through over a hundred times, but this time it felt different. There was a sense of finality to her journey. She knew she would never do this again, yet she couldn't bring herself to feel sorry for her circumstances. Over her four year journey on and off this wretched island, Cassia had learned that the decisions that she made often had unpleasant effects and it was better to accept it than to fight it because after all it was her doing.

Cassia's spirits were surprisingly high as she weaved between the vendors and villagers. Her skirts were in rags swaying at her ankles as she walked shoeless through the streets. She looked like a common beggar, but she still walked with the stride of a purposeful woman. Cassia tried to remember the last time that she looked her status in society. She remembered her wedding and the long flowing dress that she wore like a goddess. That was the first garment to go when Marcus had needed the money. The second thing that went was the ring. Now she only had the garments wrapped around her body which were beginning to look like they might not stay that way if she continued to wear them. How far she had fallen, even from her low position in Roman society, from a common peasant with a loving husband and purpose to a lowly slave with only the clothes on her back and a dreary master. Cassia immerged from her thoughts as something caught her eye.

She stopped in front of a small cart that stood behind most of the others and displayed unique items. There were several exotic hair pieces and pipes. They all had an eastern flavor to them, but were some of the most beautiful pieces she had ever seen. What had truly caught Cassia's, though, was a pair of thin yet long daggers. They were beautiful in that they had intricately etched designs running up the shaft of the blade and around the small hilts. They were delicate but upon further inspection one could see that they were very lethal. She lifted one of the blades from its beautiful leather scabbard. It was sharper than anything she had ever seen. The elderly man that ran the stand relieved it from her hands and threw it toward the post at the corner of the cart. The knife dug into the wood at a perfect angle and the man just looked at her with a knowing smile at her gaping mouth. He glided over to the post and gently removed the blade. Cassia just watched the small blade as he sheathed it in the leather binding once again.

"They are beautiful, are they not," was the first thing he said in broken Latin.

"They are the most beautiful blades I have ever seen, but I could never afford such a set. I wouldn't even have a use for them," she sighed as she readied to leave.

"How much do you have to offer," the elderly man asked gently as he wound the sheaths together with a piece of leather cord.

Cassia just looked at her shoeless feet and whispered, "only three gold pieces, sir. I am but a slave these days."

"Three gold pieces is quite a sum to an old man with no one but himself to care for. After all, these blades were not made to sit on a shelf, no matter how beautiful they are, they were made for use. If they will be used and protected for simply three gold pieces then so be it. So will you take them," he asked as he placed them in her outstretched hands.

"I'm sure I could think of something to do with them," Cassia smiled to the wrinkled old man as she produced her final three coins. Before she knew it, Cassia was gliding down through the market again with a pair of daggers in the folds of her tattered dress and not a coin to her name. It was nearing midday as she sat herself at the bank of the river just outside the village. Carefully, she removed the twin blades from her skirts, Cassia inspected the craftsmanship. They were etched to perfection and they glistened in the noon light.

She had not the slightest idea of how to use them or who to give them to, but something had propelled her into spending her final coin on their purchase. Slowly Cassia ran her fingers along the cool metal before returning it to its leather binding. She then placed them next to her on the rock which she had been sitting on, and they were soon joined by her ragged clothing as she dove into the shallow river.

As Cassia emerged from the water she realized that she had been joined by another. Glancing at the rock that she had previously occupied, Cassia's gaze was met with non other than the scout's. "Come to have your revenge for last night," Cassia asked with false bravado.

"Revenge is of little consequence," Tristan sighed as he sat on the rock that held her clothing as he cut himself a piece of apple. It took Cassia a moment to realize just what he was cutting the apple with, but then it hit her. He was holding her brand new dagger. Tristan must have figured out that she had noticed because her face was one of abject fury. "Tis a fine blade. The smith must have been truly gifted," Tristan said as he lazily gazed at the knife he was spinning between his fingers.

"That is my blade, and I would like it back if you please," Cassia fumed as she approached him forgetting that the water got shallower close to the rocks.

"I actually don't please. It is a fine blade, and as you Romans always say, an eye for an eye," Tristan said as he pocketed the dagger. "Just be happy I leave you with its twin," He said as he continued to eat his apple. "Oh and by the way, the water is shallow where you are standing," He said as an after thought. Cassia looked down and immediately fell beneath the water. She didn't come up right away because she was so ashamed.

'How could you not have noticed you were out of the water down to you navel,' she thought to her self as she lay beneath the surface. After several moments, all of a sudden a hand reached down and pulled her, by her hair, out of the water. Cassia came face to face with a very relaxed looking Tristan. Her upper body was covered with her balled up shift that Tristan held to her breast. He didn't even gaze lower than her chin. "If you are thinking that I took advantage of your situation, I did not look," Tristan said as he let her hair go. "As I said, revenge is of little consequence," the scout said as he turned and walked away as he pocketed her knife. "I suggest bathing in a less public place if you value you modesty though. And remember, if I wanted to kill you, I would have, but I can change my mind. Do not tempt me to do so by pouring more drinks into my lap," Tristan said over his shoulder as he strode back to town.

Cassia stood there half out of the water with her shift clutched to her chest as she watched the scout leave. He was so infuriating when he wasn't unconscious that it made her skin crawl. All she had wanted to do was to enjoy her final day of freedom without the interference of the scout, but she never seemed to get what she wanted. Cassia quickly donned her clothes and stalked off toward her room. "Bloody scout! He can have the bloody dagger, I would have probably given it to him anyway," she grumbled in annoyance as she trudged.

Tristan scolded himself all the way back to the village. He had meant to simply talk to her, and he had ended up stealing from her, insulting her, and threatening her. His morning was not beginning very well. Tristan no longer cared if he was right or wrong. The girl had chosen her own fate, a luxury that Tristan had not been granted with his own fate. However, this realization put Tristan in a foul mood which was demonstrated as Galahad approached him.

"Tristan," the youngest knight called. "My mount is acting up again, do you think that you can calm him." Galahad's horse, like the knight himself, was young and tended to act up every once in a while. It was often Tristan who had to be called to calm the creature since no one else was willing to venture close enough to the wild animal.

Tristan turned to his young comrade and growled, "Learn to take care of your own horse pup, or maybe you shouldn't be riding it." With that Tristan glided into the shadows that seemed to reach out to him even in the noon hour. There he would brood until his mood passed and would not have to listen to his brothers' comments. Slowly the scout eased himself into his solitude to wait on the morn. All Tristan knew for sure was that his life would change a great deal upon the morrow as he rode out of the village with a Roman citizen tethered to his saddle. This only proved to further anger the scout because he hated leaving things to fate. His life depended on knowing every detail and this woman seemed to destroy that luxury just with her presence.

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Once again sorry that it took me so long to update, hopefully the next chapter will come a little quicker. I hope you enjoyed this one.

What do you think of think of this side of Tristan? How do you like Tristan and Cassia's interaction?