Disclaimer: nothing you recognise belongs to me.
Branda followed Lancelot and Rowan as they ascended the stairs to their rooms before parting. She could smell the arousal between them, and read their body language far more easily than either of her oblivious prey did.
Idiots, she thought to herself. It was obvious that they were attracted to each other, but taking a deep breath, she calmed herself. Rowan's loss might yet be her gain. It would be tempting to enter Lancelot's chambers, take her pleasure and turn the young knight, but she quelled her hunger. Soon, but not yet. Lancelot was too close to Arthur, his behaviour woud be questioned, and one misstep could prove catastrophic to her plans. Instead she remained in the shadows, silent and still, her skin itching to turn to its wolf form, the copper taste of Alex's blood a lingering taste in her mouth. One of the stable boys ran past her hiding place pulling a giggling maid behind him, but she did not move. They weren't worth turning, and it was not until the soft patter of shoes upon stone signalled a new arrival that Branda smoothed her hair and stepped out of the shadows.
"Hello Kyrie."
The serving girl gave a yelp and almost fell backwards down the stairs . Recovering herself she gave a breathless laugh.
"You scared the wits from me Branda!" Stepping up into the hallway, she looked at the other girl curiously. "What are you doing, hiding in the shadows? You needn't be afraid, the fort is crawling with soldiers; you'll be quite safe in your room."
"I know." Branda dropped her eyes and bit back a smile. " I just wanted to check that everything was alright. I must seem very silly to you."
"Not silly, just human." Kyrie shrugged. "This place is a little overwhelming at the best of times, let me walk you to your room."
Branda looked up hopefully and took Kyrie's proffered arm. "Are you sure? I don't want to cause any trouble."
"It's no trouble," Kyrie replied with a smile, leading the red-headed girl towards the servants quarters. "Galahad can wait for a few minutes longer; it'll give him time to warm the bed!"
"Indeed." The corridor was empty when they reached Branda's room, and the girl smiled as she opened the door. "Come in for a minute, Kyrie, I've got something to show you."
"What?" The younger girl looked at her new friend curiously. "I really should be getting back."
"It'll only take a minute." Rowan gave a guileless smile. "You've never seen anything like it, I promise."
"Just for a moment," Kyrie warned. Stepping into the room, she looked around at the bare furniture and did not notice Branda shutting the door behind her. "What was it that you…" Her words were abruptly cut off as a blow to the back of her head sent her sprawling forwards onto the bed. Pushing herself up onto her elbows, she tried to raise her head, but a sudden weight upon her shoved her back down again.
"I promised didn't I?" Branda whispered in her ear. "Soon you'll see things you've never dreamed of." The words did not have time to register in Kyrie's mind before a searing pain in her side caused her to scream, the noise muffled by the bedclothes and going entirely unnoticed by the girl who had sunk her teeth into her flesh.
Lancelot awoke for the second time in two days by someone banging on his bedroom door. Sliding off the bed and getting to his feet groggily, he managed to locate his breeches and pull them on before unlatching the door and coming face to face with an extremely agitated Galahad.
"Have you seen Kyrie?" The younger knight demanded. "You were at the tavern, you saw her, do you know what happened to her?"
Lancelot held up a hand, silencing his friend's babbling, and rubbed his hand over his bleary eyes.
"Slow down. Start from the beginning."
"Kyrie didn't come home last night, well not to my bedroom anyway. Eight says that she left her after closing up the tavern, but no-one has seen her since."
"Right." Lancelot's exhaustion vanished, adrenaline and fear sharpening his senses. "Have you checked Llynya's house? Sometimes she stays there."
"She didn't go there - Gawain has talked to the guards, but nothing seemed wrong. She said goodnight to them and came this way. Somehow she vanished between the courtyard and my quarters." Galahad bit his lip, his dark eyes the only colour in his pale face. "I can't lose her, Lancelot. We killed the wolves didn't we? I thought she was safe."
"We don't know that she isn't," Lancelot said firmly. "Give me a moment to get dressed and I'll come and help you look for her."
Galahad nodded. "I'll meet you in the courtyard." Turning, he hurried down the corridor and down the stairs.
"Kyrie's missing?" Rowan's voice startled Lancelot, and turning he watched her pad out into the hallway. Her hair was loose and messy, her clothing obviously thrown on in a hurry. Looking at him, she shrugged sheepishly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to evesdrop, but Galahad was so noisy. Is Kyrie really gone?"
"So it seems." Lancelot sighed and glanced at the stairs that his friend had bounded down. "She didn't go home last night."
"Then we have to find her," Rowan said fiercely. "I'll help look."
"Oh no you don't." Whirling around to face her, he grabbed her wrist. "You are going to go to the tavern and stay there. We've already got one girl missing, I'm not risking you making it two."
Several outraged replies to this display of dominance flickered through Rowan's mind, but brought face to chest with a half naked Lancelot, she found herself unable to get the words out. Tousled haired, his eyes still squinting sleepily, he nonetheless was almost frighteningly beautiful. Broad shoulders tapering to slim hips, his flat muscles rippling beneath the skin, Rowan forced herself to look away before she gave in to the urge to touch the scar that traversed his side.
"I'm just going to put my shoes on." Pulling out of his grip, she hurried back into her room, cheeks aflame. Stop it, stop it, stop it, she told herself fiercely as she pulled her shoes on and dragged a comb through her tangled hair, welcoming the pain. Kyrie was missing. That was enough to focus her thoughts, and with a twist in her stomach she wondered what had happened to the gentle girl. And what of Branda? Where had she been when this had happened?" Hurriedly braiding her hair, she got up and slid out into the hallway, closing the door to her room behind her. Lancelot joined her a moment later, but she did her best not to look at him, and neither of them said anything when they walked down to the tavern. Llynya and Gawain stood outside, and with a brief smile to Lancelot and a whispered "be careful," that he was not intended to hear, Rowan walked over to them. The baby resting upon Llynya's hip gave a gummy smile to the girl, but although both his mother and the tawny haired knight greeted her, Rowan noticed the worry pinching their faces.
"Has there been any news?" She asked. "Has anyone found…" Rowan paused and tried to think of a way of saying blood or remains without it sounding as horrible as it undoubtedly was. Gawain saved her the effort.
"We don't know anything at the moment," he said quietly. "It's like she just disappeared."
"But we'll find her," Llynya added swiftly. "She probably just…"
"Probably just what?" All of them turned to see Lucy approach. Her eyes were red rimmed, her clothing obviously put on in a hurry. "What do you think she's doing? Playing a really good game of hide and seek?" Looking at Gawain, she nodded her head to where Tristan , Lancelot and Galahad were deep in discussion. "They want to talk to you, I think they're going to search the woods."
Gawain nodded, kissing first his wife and then his son and nodding at the two girls before departing. "Stay together," he warned. "No wandering off."
The three girls nodded , watching him go before turning to each other.
"Kyrie wouldn't run away," Lucy said with a sniff, rubbing her sleeve over her runny nose. "Someone took her, they must have done."
"I know, I know." Shifting her son's weight upon her hip, Llynya fished for a handkerchief in her sleeve before giving it to Lucy. "But we shouldn't give up hope. It's not like Brennus or Two. We've found no blood, there's no reason to think the worst."
"Then where is she?" Lucy watched as Tristan took his horse from Jols and swung up into the saddle, giving him an attempt at a smile when he nodded at her. "There's something very wrong here."
Rowan silently agreed, but after watching Lancelot depart with the others, she did not go into the kitchen of the tavern as she had said to her friends, instead making her way to the servant's quarters. Although she passed several guards, they did not pay her much attention, recognising her as one of Vanora's serving girls, and so it was without much difficulty that she found herself approaching Branda's door. Steeling herself, she rapped quickly on the aged wood, her heart pounding .
Nothing happened. Knocking again, she found the courage to find the door handle and found the room unlocked.
"Hello?" She said tentatively, inching the door open. "It's me, Rowan."
A sigh of relief escaped her when she realised that Branda was gone. The small bed was neatly made, the ash from the fireplace swept clean, and Rowan wondered what she had hoped to find. A mutilated body? A wolfskin rug? Aside from the bed and a small pile of neatly folded clothes the room was empty, and Rowan stepped away, closing the door behind her. Where was Branda? She wondered. Was she missing too, or had she simply not noticed her amongst the hustle and bustle in the courtyard? Vowing to find out, she made her way back down the stairs. Although the hallway that led outside was quicker, Rowan decided to take a different route. The other passage led past Lynette's quarters, and if the old housekeeper was not busy with her duties, she might perhaps have seen something useful, notorious as she was for keeping a keen eye on the comings and goings of the fort.
However, before Rowan reached the housekeeper's home, a faint cry made her stop in her tracks. Looking around warily, she searched the shadows but saw nothing, and was about to press on when she heard the noise again. This time it was louder and unmistakably the sound of a woman in distress. Walking forward, Rowan listened carefully and followed the sound to the small latrine at the end of the passageway. More than a little embarrassed she knocked on the door.
"Hello?" She called out softly. "Are you alright in there?"
"Wait a moment," a groggy voice answered. Waiting nervously, Rowan listened to the sound of someone fiddling with the latch, before coming face to face with a very unwell looking Kyrie.
"Kyrie?" Quickly grabbing the swaying girl, Rowan lowered her slowly to the floor. "What happened to you?"
Kyrie half opened her eyes and winced as she raised a hand to touch the back of her head.
"I don't remember. One moment I was leaving the tavern, the next I was waking up on the floor in there. I must have hit my head on something."
Leaning forwards, Rowan gently pressed her fingers against the back of Kyrie's skull, wincing when she felt the hot lump upon it.
"You've certainly given your head a pretty hard whack on something," she concurred. "Most of the castle is worried sick about you - Galahad in particular is terrified."
"He always worries too much," Kyrie said with a faint smile. "Would you find him for me? I'm not sure that I can make it back home."
Rowan shook her head. "He's gone looking for you in the forest, along with the other knights. Don't worry, I'll find Tibor and tell Llynya and Lucy where you are."
"Passed out in a latrine," Kyrie said wearily. "I won't live this down anytime soon."
"It's better than being dead," Rowan replied firmly. "Rest a moment, I'll be back before you know it."
"I'm not going anywhere." Kyrie watched as her friend scurried down the hallway and out of sight before resting her head on the cool stone wall. She felt hot and feverish, her head pounding, every noise seemingly amplified. Her side itched and she scratched it thoughtfully. She had been bitten by a dog hadn't she? One of the dogs by the tavern and she had cleaned and dressed it herself. The memory seemed right but at the same time a little odd, as though there was something more to it if she could only remember. A rat scurried past, but she could not find the strength to move her legs out of the way, and so she watched it wearily, telling herself the thud that reverberated in her ears was that of her own heartbeat and not that of the rodent who watched her with bright eyes before disappearing through a crack in the wall.
A/N: Thanks very much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter - sorry for not replying, hope the new not-especially-cheery-chapter makes up for it.