Disclaimer: I do not own anything thing that you recognize.
Chapter 25 Time does not heal all Wounds
Tristan rode hard back toward the fort. He had been out all night on one of his hunts. It had been over a fortnight since he had seen a true battle or shed anyone's blood. The urge had been rising inside of him with each passing day and Cassia was baring the brunt of it. She was beginning to look less Roman and more Woad with all the blue and purple bruises running down her entire frame. Some days she could barely get out of bed due to the swelling or the pain, but she dutifully did everything that was asked of her without complaint.
It had been over three months since Percival's death and Tristan had never spoken more than a command or complaint to her in that time. He was beyond cold to her whenever they were together, but she never so much as said a word of complaint as to her treatment. He had overheard her speaking to one of the village healers as she purchased a salve for the lacerations on her back. The healer was in disbelief as to how Cassia could allow her body to bare such assault and Cassia had simply said, "He is a rough man. I am fed three good meals a day and protected from anyone who wishes me harm. What more could I ask for?" The elderly woman looked at her in disbelief, but Cassia said nothing more as she paid for the salve with the little bit of money she had saved from odd jobs the other knights would have her do.
Tristan knew that she was probably the only reason he was alive to hunt another day. She had dug several well placed arrows out of the scout's flesh over the past few months, but Tristan would not allow himself to feel again. He had given it a chance and it had once again left him bitter to the world. Tristan urged his horse to ride faster as he felt the cut across his ribs stretch uncomfortably. Ever since Percival's death, Tristan had once again taken to sneaking out of the fort and into the forest. There he would hunt down as many demons as he could, some blue some his own personal ones. Unlike Percival, Tristan always returned though sometimes in several more pieces than he left in.
Tristan remembered one night when his mount had been grazed in the side by a stray arrow. The steed had swerved to avoid another arrow and Tristan had found himself struck by a low hanging tree branch. The impact was enough to throw him from his horse but not enough to render him unconscious. He had fought nearly twenty Woads with a heavily bleeding skull and received a spear to the ribs that would have been the end of him if it had not caught one of the metal rings in his armor. Tristan had barely made it into his quarters before he lost consciousness. He knew that Cassia would take care of him even if he was not worth saving. He had tossed her the keys to her shackles and she had immediately tended his aching head. By midday Tristan woke to a splitting headache, but Cassia had handed him a clay cup filled with some sort of remedy for such things. By the following day he was walking around as though nothing had happened, but he knew if Cassia hadn't been there his wounds would have probably become infected before even Dagonet found him. There was little they could do when a deep fever set in. Tristan had seen many brothers die from such an unpleasant fate.
Tristan glided into the courtyard of the fort as the sun began to crest Badon Hill. Jols came quickly to gather the reins of Tristan's mount as the scout swiftly headed for his own quarters, too exhausted to be trusted to tend his own steed. Quite often, fatigue would not stop the stubborn scout from tending his own mount, but the cut across his ribs was irritating him and his horse would sense it. So Tristan left the dapple gray stallion in the capable hands of Jols.
Cassia sat shackled to the floor yet again. Tristan knew by now that she would not leave his room if he was outside the fort, but Tristan seemed to take pleasure in showing his power over her. Three months Cassia had endured the cruel temper of the silent scout and had learned why the majority of the fort feared him and his blood lust. After Percival's funeral Tristan had flogged her simply for being alive while Percival was not, but she had taken it because he had truly gone easy on her once he heard her cry out at the first bite of leather. He had given her ten lashes, but he had done so as lightly as one could while wielding a whip. He had then tended her wounds with more care than she thought he possessed.
Tristan had entered his quarters not long after the sun had set. As he stepped into his room, he found Cassia sitting in a heap on the floor with tracks from dried tears running down her face. Tristan quickly unchained her and lifted her from the floor by her hair. Cassia barely made a sound as he dragged to the cot and threw her against it. He made her lean over the small bed as he took out one of many daggers and cut the back of her dress open to the reveal smooth olive skin of her back.
Cassia didn't move as Tristan went to the chest at the end of his bed and retrieved a flagrum from the box. She had not seen such a device since she had left Rome. She had seen her mother carry one when she was in the mood to flay a slave that had angered her. Cassia had been wise enough to avoid her mother when she was in such moods. Cassia wondered how the scout had gotten his hands on such a weapon, but she realized that he could have stolen it from any number of Roman's around the fort.
Tristan looked at the cold leather of the two tailed whip. He had never used the weapon. He had actually stolen it from a Roman who was about to flog several innocent soldiers because he could not bare even the thought of such punishment. He knew what it was like to have the skin torn from his back by the bite of a whip. This flagrum only had two tails of leather, where as the one that he had been beaten with had three tails each adorned with metal hooks. The scorpion they had called it, and Tristan could still feel the pain as it dug through the soft skin of his back if he let his mind wander. But here he was preparing to give his most detested punishment to Cassia.
Tristan raised the whip before he could talk himself out of it and remembered Percival's body hanging lifeless in the forest. He brought the whip down with quite a bit of force as he recalled Percival's face. However, he was torn out of his rage as soon as the leather met the smooth skin of Cassia's back, and he heard the unearthly sob that came from the innocent slave. Tristan barely could raise the leather to her back again after hearing her pain bring back memories of his own torture. He gave her ten lashes but none so strong as the first. The last three barely touched her skin before he drew the whip back.
When he finished, Tristan quickly lifted her onto the bed and pulled her dress back farther to reveal all of the damage he had done. Tristan quickly retrieved his own healing supplies and the water basin. He washed her back with the greatest of care and then he tended each of her wounds. Cassia hadn't made a sound after the first lash, and she continued her silence as he aided her. He had covered her back in clean cloths after he had finished cleaning each of her wounds. He ran the tips of his fingers gently down her quivering side then rose, tied her to the cot, and left before he did anymore damage.
Tristan had ridden out of the fort and sat in the forest the entire night. His own back ached with the memories of his punishment. He could feel each scar along his back and legs. He cursed himself for hurting her, he cursed Percival for dying, he cursed Isolde for haunting him, and he cursed Roman for killing what little humanity he had. He had curled into a tight ball and vowed that he would be close to no one ever again. He would go back in the morning, and she would be naught more than a slave that he would treat as such. He would treat her no better or worse than any Roman would treat their slave.
She had recovered rather quickly from those injuries, but it was the bruises that she suffered most from. When Tristan could not sate the bloodlust that boiled within him, he became very free with his fists. Cassia would take every beating as best she could, but Tristan barely even realized what he was doing anymore. Some nights he would leave her locked in his room and not return until nearly dawn smelling of one of the tavern wenches. She had heard Vanora speaking about how in his four years at the fort she had only seen him take three whores. In the past three months he had taken nearly a dozen. When he wasn't sating that sort of lust, he was in the forest sating a different kind with Woad sacrifices.
Cassia absentmindedly rubbed her left wrist as she watched the warm glow in the early morning sky. Tristan would return soon, and she would either have to tend many wounds or begin her chores immediately. She yawned lightly as she stretched as best she could. She rarely slept anymore because of fear that Tristan might return drunk or dying and because there was no comfortable position attainable from the way she was shackled. Just as Cassia began to become restless waiting for the scout, the door to the chamber opened hitting her in the shin.
Tristan stepped into the room and threw the key to Cassia who deftly unlocked her bindings from the floor. Cassia rose as Tristan collapsed on his, too small, cot. She immediately went to her healing bag which had become bigger in her time at the fort. Taking the bag and placing it next to the scout on the bed, she carefully began to remove his armor. She had become quite talented at unfastening the many buckles and fastenings on his armor. Once his armor and coat were off, Cassia took in the sight of his blood drenched tunic.
'What have you done to yourself this time,' Cassia thought as she pulled the fabric up to reveal his torn skin. There was a long gash across the right side of his ribcage, but it wasn't very deep. It wouldn't have even needed stitches if it were not in such an awkward spot. No matter how careful he could be, there was no way he wouldn't continuously open it up if she didn't sew it. Cassia fully removed the scout's tunic and began washing his torso with the water from the basin. Tristan just lay with his faced turned away from her as she gently tended him with the greatest of care. Once she was sure that it as clean, Cassia began to stitch the long cut. Tristan barely flinched as Cassia slowly mended the torn flesh. She was not the most sure with a needle, but her stitches were good and she never asked any questions like the healers would.
When she finished patching up the scout, Cassia retrieved Tristan's dirtied clothes and called a maid for some bath water for him. She then slipped out of his quarters to begin her morning chores. Cassia hurried down the knights' corridor slipping in and out of the other knights' rooms without waking them as she took their laundry. In her three months at the fort, Cassia had become as silent as the scout when attending her duties. The knights had begun to warm up to her and allowed her to slip in and out when she needed to. It was less trouble for all parties involved, and Cassia had not proven her self untrustworthy since she arrived.
Cassia paused a moment in Gawain's room since the fair knight had just woken up and was fumbling with his attire. Cassia was about to slip back out hoping not to be noticed, but Gawain animatedly beckoned her in. "How are you this morning," he asked kindly as Cassia began to collect his wash.
"As good as to be expected," Cassia replied tiredly as she hoisted the bag of clothes over her shoulder. "And how are you this fine morning, sir," She asked as she tossed him a clean tunic and took the filthy one he was about to put on.
Gawain laughed as he donned the cleaner garment. "I am well, but I don't know what I would do if you weren't here to tell me what shirts are safe to wear," he joked lightly as Cassia stood in front of him.
"Neither do I, sir. Perhaps you would be walking around in nothing at all because you manage to put more holes in your clothing that even Tristan does. I don't know what I shall do with you," Cassia said in exasperation.
"You could always take Lancelot's approach and bed me," Gawain replied as he pulled the much smaller brunette into his lap.
"Gawain," Cassia said in mock frustration and she climbed out of his warm embrace. "I would not take Lancelot's approach to anything even if I lived to see one hundred, and you would do good not to take his advice either," Cassia admonished as she lifted her sack again.
"It is alright, Cassia. I don't have time to fool around anyway. I must teach Galahad how real men hunt today. Perhaps another time," Gawain ignored her previous rejection as he rose from the bed and kissed her lightly on the forehead before grabbing his bow and quiver.
"Yes, I must go as well, sir because these clothes do not wash themselves," Cassia said as she followed the wild blond knight out of his quarters. Cassia stopped in the kitchens on her way to the stream to say good morning to Vanora and take the twins off the redhead's hands for the morning. Cassia had become close to the two five year olds over her time at the fort because they enjoyed helping her wash. Every morning they would meet her in the tavern and the three of them would go down to the stream to wash the knights' clothes.
Cassia no longer feared the Roman soldiers who roamed the fort because with Tristan's blood thirsty nature back, no one wanted to cross paths with him. They basically left her alone because they feared the scout's rising bloodlust. Some of the men even greeted her as she walked through the streets or sent her pitying glances as the saw her discolored skin. Some even gave her appreciative looks when she wasn't black and blue. Due to her time at the fort, Cassia had gained back almost all of the weight she had lost during her "adventure." She was no longer thin as a board, but instead had her healthy roman figure back. She no longer wore the tight dresses that Vanora had made her because they revealed too much of Tristan's destruction. She instead had begged the fort's seamstress to make her several roman style gowns that she now wore. The dresses hid both her returning curves and constant bruises.
The twins, who were known as Four and Five though no one really paid attention to which one was which, met Cassia outside the tavern which happened to be closed this morning. "Mum is sick again," Four said as Cassia looked at the young girls questioningly. Cassia nodded in understanding as she remembered that Vanora was pregnant yet again.
"Well then, I guess it is just us this morning," Cassia said cheerily as she took, Five's hand and led the way to the stream.
Tristan leaned over the basin in his chamber as he emptied the minimal contents of his stomach. He was still dripping wet from the bath water he had very quickly vacated when the nausea had become over whelming. Tristan's wet hair stuck to his face as he wretched yet again. He glanced at the graze on his arm and noticed the sickly color to it. The Woads had taken to poisoning their arrows because it was the only way to slow him down these days. They never used their deadly poisons but instead used mild ones that simply left him sick to his stomach and weak for several days. It was annoying, but it was better than being dead. Tristan knew that eventually they would use a lethal poison and it would be the end of him, but for now he was not about to let such things stop him.
When he had finally brought up everything that he could, Tristan slowly dressed himself completely forgetting about finishing his bath. He put on his coat to ward off the slight autumn chill that would undoubtedly do him no good with poison in his veins. Slowly he made his way toward the stream to find Cassia. After several times of being hit by poisoned arrows, Cassia had found a certain brew that would alleviate at least most of his symptoms.
Cassia saw Tristan walking toward the stream looking worse for wear with his wet hair unbraided and sticking to his face. He still walked with a slight limp when he was tried or sick and his body language was telling her that he was suffering both. Cassia quickly stood before he reached them and went to him without a word.
"Where were you hit, I didn't see any arrow wounds or I would have given you something for it immediately," Cassia said as she reached the scout.
"Just get me some of that drink. I have to meet with Arthur before noon," Tristan ground out as he took in the sight of Four and Five going through the knights' clothes by the water's edge. "Do you really think that five year olds should be going through our garments? There are things worse than blood on some of those things," Tristan growled.
Cassia held back a laugh knowing that though Tristan didn't sound angry, he was far from pleased. Cassia just said, "They are Bors' children. I doubt that there is any substance that they do not know the origins of… Come let us get this taken care of before Arthur misses you." With that said, Cassia followed Tristan back to his quarters leaving the young girls for a time to wash the clothes. She would be back before they even realized she was missing
As they walked Tristan couldn't get the image of Four and Five at the river out of his mind. Rosheen would be nearly five by now, and she would have the deep red hair of her mother. He could see her sitting at the river with Isolde cleaning his filthy tunics. He could see her bright smile that would resemble her mother's so much while still being uniquely her own. He could feel her small hand in his own as they walked together, and it made his heart bleed not to know what happened to her. Was she beside her mother in the cold earth or was she being raised by someone who couldn't love her nearly as much as he would have? Tristan cursed to himself and blamed it on the poison racing through his veins as he cleared his mind and led Cassia back to his quarters.
XxX
There you have it, I hope you enjoyed. I might be able to get another chapter up before my computer gets taken away. After that I might be able to update once in a while, if my brother gets his own computer working again. So I'm hoping he'll figure out what is wrong with it and fix it, so I can update.
So what, did you think of everyone's memories and how things have happened over the three month skip? Your reviews always help!
Thank you to everyone who has reviewed the last few chapters, I'm sorry I haven't replied to any but everything is hectic here. Your input is always greatly appreciated.