Disclaimer: I don't own anything, so please don't sue.
AN: There are a couple words of bad language in the middle of this chapter, so skip them if they offend you, but other than that I hope you enjoy this!
Chapter 29 Where two Roads Meet
Tristan had left Dagonet's room with little to show for it but a sore nose. He refused to return to his own quarters for fear of seeing Cassia, and he refused to ride because his mount had ridden hard for several days straight, and on the morrow would be doing so again. His horse's welfare was far more important than a ride to clear his own head.
Tristan left the barracks as he wandered slowly through the fort. His mind was full of unrest as he passed those he knew with little more than a sideways glance. His feet first led him to the empty tavern. It was still too early for it to be open, but that had never stopped Tristan before. Silently, Tristan strode through the back door that led to the kitchens. He knew that if Vanora caught him now, she would probably attack him with any pot or knife she could find. Normally, Vanora would let the scout take what he wished from the kitchens because she had a soft spot for him, but after she had seen his treatment of Cassia, she was more likely to skewer him than serve him. With precise stealth, Tristan snuck into the pantry and found himself a jug of mead. Though it was not normally his drink of choice, Tristan was far more concerned with forgetting the passed few days than the drink that aided him. Just as unobtrusively as he had come, Tristan slipped out the back door without anyone noticing.
Tristan was lost in his own mind when he arrived at the room that lay directly above his own. The door was locked, but Tristan was the only one that possessed the key. He stood a moment staring at the heavy door, before he realized where he was. Dinadan's room stood before the scout as it had so many times before. The only different was that now good counsel and friendship didn't lay behind it. Tristan absentmindedly removed the key from his person and let himself into the abandoned room.
The room looked no different than it had the day Dinadan left it, for the mission he was never to return from. The cot beneath the far window was sloppily mad because he had been in a hurry that day. The chair and table were still perfectly set because he never left a mess of it. There was a pair of worn breeches atop his clothes chest because they had needed mending, and there were two daggers he had forged himself upon the arms shelf. One was to be Tristan's and the other his own, but after he died Tristan didn't possess the heart to take it from the room.
Tristan entered silently, almost reverently, and shut the door behind him self. No one but he had been in this room since Dinadan's passing. Over the past two years, Tristan had found himself in here seeking the counsel of his deceased friend many times. Tristan slowly walked to the center of the desolate room and sat cross-legged on the floor. Before him lay Dinadan's cot which was highlighted by the glow of the late afternoon sun. Tristan removed the stopper from the clay jug of mead he had procured and took a pull from it before placing it on the floor I front of him. Dinadan and he had drunk in this very spot many times over their two years of service together. It had become a ritual every time one of them was in need of guidance. For several minutes as he drank, Tristan sat remembering the day that tore apart the last remnants of his humanity.
The knights sat mounted on the crest closest to the fort as they returned from Aesica on a supply run. Dinadan and Tristan came bolting out of the distant forest with a volley of arrows close behind them. Arthur watched as his two scouts twisted in the saddle, in unison, and released several arrows of their own.
Tristan had an arrow protruding from the back of his armor, but it didn't seem to be slowing him down at all as they made their way to the hill upon which the other knights sat.
"There was an ambush waiting for us, but Tristan spotted 'em," Dinadan informed as they reined in before Arthur and the others.
"How many," Arthur asked tersely.
"Forty… Fifty maximum," Tristan answered as he broke the shaft of the arrow in his back, without so much as a flinch. Galahad paled as he watched, while the others just simply shook their heads. Tristan was too accustomed to pain for his own good. Bors would often joke by saying that the silent scout wouldn't notice if his head was cut off because he felt little pain. Tristan would always simply say that if his head was missing, he wouldn't notice anything because he would be dead. Bors would usually grumble at him for his smart reply.
"Alright… men," Arthur called as he removed Excalibur from its sheath. The others moved into formation as they too drew their weapons, then charged down to meet the emerging Woads.
Tristan, Dinadan, and Galahad, who still lacked battle experience, rode around the swarm of bodies and picked off Woads until their quivers ran empty. Dinadan nearly dove off his steed as he charged into the fray. Tristan gracefully slid from his mount's back as he engaged several Woads at once. The battle was bloody, but nothing they couldn't handle. Tristan and Dinadan fought near each other as they took down every foe that crossed their paths.
It was when the battle began to draw to a close. Tristan was finishing off a particularly feisty Woad woman when a second, that he had previously injured, snuck up from behind him. Dinadan had seen this unfair tactic and was behind Tristan covering his back before the Woad knew what was happening. They both finished their opponents without much difficulty as they turned to each other to assess any injuries they might have acquired. It was then that the blade of an axe came out of nowhere aimed at Tristan's torso; however Dinadan pushed the younger scout out of the way leaving himself to be struck in the stomach.
Tristan glanced up from where he had landed to see Dinadan struck through his armor. His sight turned red as he noticed the Woad standing just meters away. Tristan found a forgotten bow and arrows before the Woad even thought of retreating. His shot was true as it pierced the man through the thigh leaving him immobile until Tristan felt like dealing with him.
Before Dinadan crumbled to the ground, Tristan was behind him easing him down. "Guess this wasn't my day," Dinadan choked as he took a labored breath. "That pierced me right through…"
"You'll be fine, we'll get Dag to fix you up," Tristan assured him weakly as he held Dinadan's head in his lap. "I've seen men lie though worse."
"Tristan, my innards are being skewered by a rusty axe. The only hope I have right now is that they poisoned the blade so I die quickly, instead of a slow and painful one as I bleed out," Dinadan chuckled as he thought of how he was to die.
"Don't say that," Tristan scolded fiercely. By now, the others were gathered around the pair watching because there was little else that they could do. Galahad stood bawling into Gawain's shoulder, as he watched on of the men he thought invincible die a painful and slow death.
"You're worrying," Dinadan pointed out amusedly as he watched Tristan stroke the hair out of his eyes. "Stop fighting what is unavoidable, Tristan."
"Will you shut up? You'll be fine, right Dag," Tristan looked up to the large healer with agonizing hope in his glassy eyes.
"If I remove the blade, it will only cause him to bleed out faster, Tris. Perhaps it would be less cruel to end it faster for him, but I have not the heart to do it, nor do I think any of us does," Dagonet said truthfully knowing that Tristan wasn't one to seek false hope. Perhaps it would have been less cruel if Tristan was allowed to grasp optimism for a moment longer, but that would not have stopped the inevitable.
Tristan let his gaze wander across to his fellow knights. The normally cocky Lancelot was gazing at his toes trying to hide his silent tears. Bors and Dag looked solemn because in their years they had seen too many good men die such torturous deaths as this. Gawain looked sick as he held Galahad who still cried, which no one would blame him for because they all felt this loss. Percival and Lamorak stood beside each other, quietly lending their support. Kay stood like a stone wall as he held Bedivere from breaking down. Finally, Arthur stood with his gaze pointed towards his heaven as he prayed for his helpless scout.
"You can save you prayers, Arthur," Dinadan said as blood spilled from his blue lips. "I don't want to find your heaven. I would much rather roam the steppes of home as a great stallion instead. I'd get bored up there," Dinadan choked out. Everyone looked at him knowing that he was fighting a losing battle with the pain. "A moment," he asked of Arthur as he felt that he was beginning to fade.
"Knights," Arthur said with a broken authority, and they all left Tristan and Dinadan to their final goodbyes. Each man set out to collect their own armor and horses with a heavy heart, knowing that in a matter of minutes they would be one less.
They knew that their brother was dead when Tristan silently stalked across the battlefield to the immobilized Woad. The one who was responsible for Dinadan's death. The only sounds over the entire field were the screams of that Woad as Tristan executed unspeakable tortures upon him. Normally, Arthur would not allow such methods, but he could not have stopped Tristan even if he had wanted to. The others just waited patiently for the deed to be done.
No one touched the body knowing very well that Tristan would insist upon caring for it. Tristan was several inches shorter than his former friend, but he would manage to carry the body to its horse. No one spoke but instead felt the emptiness within them all.
"What went wrong? Am I never to find peace," Tristan asked the air with jug in hand. He remembered how after they had returned with Dinadan's body, he had come to this very spot to clean his friend's weapons and armor, as his body was prepared. Dinadan's sword and bow had gleamed as Tristan had stood them in the earth at the head of his brother's grave.
"I fucked up. I don't know when it started but everything is fucked up because of it… She stole your sword. I suppose that's where it started. Or maybe it started when I stole her life instead of ending it. Either way, I messed up. I never mess up. Since you've been gone, I haven't missed a Woad or a warning sign. I'm the one that watches the others' backs instead of the other way around. I haven't looked to the past in two years, but this woman comes and takes your sword, and now I am haunted by both my past and present… and now I'm returning to Eboracum for our next mission.
"Isolde hasn't left my thoughts since Arthur told me. Everything I do is haunted by her presence in my thoughts. I don't even know what became of Rosheen. Is she beside her mother or worse, is she alone at that fort living of another's care," Tristan let out a defeated sigh as he leaned against the frame of the bed taking a long pull of mead. "If I return, will they execute me for her death? Will they imprison me for surviving their torture? Will they punish the others for saving me? I can't let that happen. If I don't return, what will become of Cassia? Will she go to the highest bidder, or will Arthur set her free? If I return, will I be able to face her after seeing Isolde's grave? I took Rena right in front of Cassia. She hasn't forgiven me, but I can't blame her. I haven't forgiven myself," Tristan trailed off just letting himself be comforted by his surroundings. Tristan rarely spoke three words together when in the company of others, but in the company of his friend's memory he spoke without restraint. Dinadan had never reprimanded Tristan, even when he had deserved it. They were more of brothers than friends because they needed nothing but the other's presence to know how they felt.
Tristan received no answers in Dinadan's old quarters, but when he left many hours later his arrival, Tristan was more at peace with himself. It was a feeling he hadn't had in many months. Hopefully sleep would not abandon him on this night, but Tristan knew his sense of hope would not last long.
XxXxX
Tristan had been summoned into Arthur's office long before dawn and had been sitting there ever since, waiting for his commander to arrive. Tristan had barely slept the entire night. He was constantly haunted by distorted memories of the past that each cursed him for his treatment of Cassia. Ironically, it was Cassia who succeeded in banishing these demons. It seemed as though every time he began to suffer, she was there to wake him from his hell, even if it was with a bucket of cold water or a hard shove to the ribs. He had tried to apologize to her the night before, but she had dismissed him by changing the subject. He had also found that she had returned his four coins to his change pouch, for what reason he was uncertain. Perhaps his coin was a tainted as he was, in her eyes.
Tristan glanced around the office, trying to keep his normally unyielding mind off the pleasant Roman slave within his quarters. In the dull gray of the morning light, Tristan could see no more than the clutter which Arthur's desk had become after Percival's passing. Percival had always been the one to keep order within Arthur's office, simply because Percival was one of the few that could read Latin. In return for his services, Percival was allowed to read any and all of the volumes that covered Arthur's shelves. After his death, Arthur tried to keep his office in order but grief bit hard when he would return a volume to its correct place. He had given up after several weeks. Tristan sighed as he remembered Percival, letting his head lull into the palms of his hands.
Arthur entered the room just as the sun was inching its way into the sky. "Sorry to wake you Tristan, but as you know, we must leave within the hour," Arthur said by way of greeting. Tristan simply nodded and let his commander continue. "I understand that this is not going to be an easy mission for you, but you are one of my best men and I know you shall not fail me. I, however, also know that you have been giving Cassia quite a hard time here. I, as a commander, cannot let such behavior go unpunished. You will be under strict watch while on this mission and since we have little time now, you will face public punishment when we return. Do you understand," Arthur asked not taking any pleasure from the situation.
"Will you have Jols ask Vanora to watch Cassia while we are away? She is not on speaking terms with me," was all that Tristan said.
"It will be unnecessary. Cassia will accompany us to Eboracum. There is no use in arguing about it either, Tristan. It is an order. Vanora said that Cassia is in need of new dresses, and Eboracum is constantly in supply from Rome. It will give Cassia a chance to breath outside the walls for a few days."
Tristan left Arthur's office in a bitter mood. He was to be punished during the trip by her constant presence then physically flogged upon return. This only added to the agitation that he already felt at returning to his old fort. As Tristan made his way back toward his room, he thought about his situation. He knew that Arthur was simply bringing Cassia as a form of punishment for the scout. He also knew that Arthur probably cared less about her well being than Tristan seemed to. Arthur was kind to the woman, but Tristan knew that Arthur did not approve of anyone who caused trouble within his ranks. Cassia had don't nothing but cause trouble since she arrive, although none of it was by her own actual doing.
Tristan did not wish to ever return to his previous fort. There was nothing left but torment for him there. Every time he even thought of his past, Isolde's bright face haunted him for days afterward. Tristan had lost his heart at Eboracum, and he had little chance of finding it upon his return.
As Tristan stepped back into his chamber, he found Cassia sprawled on his cot, covered in unfinished laundry. She must not have expected him to return to his room, or she would never have relaxed as such. Tristan looked at her peaceful face and let her sleep while he threw a couple of her worn dresses into her satchel and collected her healing bag. Once Tristan had packed her belongings, he sat beside her on the cot. He remembered the last time that they had sat on the bed at the same time without hateful feelings. It had been a terrible three months since then.
Tristan found it hard to believe that he missed the quiet talks they had shared, but then the memories of Percival hanging between two trees came flooding back. Tristan tapped Cassia on her uncovered shoulder as he tried to rein his temper. "Get up. You are to join us. Arthur's orders," Tristan growled as Cassia sat bolt upright. He had not meant to sound so angry, but he was just happy not to have sounded too threatening.
"I thought you had left already," Cassia sputtered, worrying that she had done something wrong.
"I have packed some of your affects. We leave presently," Tristan said curtly as he turned to quit the room before he did something he would regret. Cassia just sneered at his retreating form as she rose from the bed and threw a dark dress over her shift. There was not use in looking nice if she was to spend the next few days traveling.
As Cassia entered the stables carrying her healing bag and satchel, she found all of the knights congregated. They seemed to be waiting for her because they were all mounted and otherwise ready to leave. Cassia looked for Tristan, but found his mount missing. So, she approached Gawain. "Do you mind if I join you," she asked meekly as she stood before him.
"I could think of no better company to liven up a boring ride," Gawain beamed down at her as he took her bags. Once they were fastened to his saddle, Gawain lifted Cassia to sit in front of him seeing as though she would have fallen off the horse's back if seated behind him due to her dress. Cassia quickly thanked him as they moved into an easy trot, out of the stables. "Tristan is scouting ahead right now so until he returns, you shall be my companion," Gawain explained as they watched the wall fade into the distance.
"You could always ride with me," Lancelot broke in. "I'm sure that I could make the ride much more memorable," he said smoothly as he waggled his eyebrows.
"I am actually hoping that this will not be a very memorable trip. I just wish to go and return with little excitement," Cassia explained.
"And she likes it just where she is, don't you," Gawain said defensively. Cassia laughed as she leaned back against Gawain's strong chest as they continued on. Once Lancelot moved to the front of the column beside Arthur, Gawain turned to Cassia, "Are you alright. Vanora told me about Rena."
"I am fine Gawain. Angry with Tristan but fine," Cassia spoke exasperatedly.
"Has he apologized," Gawain fumed. He could barely stop himself from attack his close friend because of what he had done to the sweet Roman.
"He has tried, but you know how poor he is with words, and every time he starts I cut him off. He hasn't laid a finger on me since, so I know he feels terrible about it. But, I am not about to forgive him for all that he has done. To forgive him so easily would be to condone his behavior, and I wouldn't give him the satisfaction," Cassia explained coolly.
Gawain nodded and simply held her tighter as they continued on. "He spoke to Dag about everything yesterday, then disappeared until long after dark. I've never smelt alcohol on his breath since I stole his sword, but last night he reeked of brew. However, when he returned his was in good spirits. He even told me that I looked nice with my hair loose and wearing my worn out dress. I don't understand his ways, and I doubt I ever shall," Cassia concluded as they watched Tristan approach the column.
The sun was high in the sky as Tristan rejoined the column of knights. He had been riding hard all morning and simply wished to be able to rest before riding out again. However, he knew that Arthur would work him until he was bone weary the entire trip. As commander of the Sarmatian knights, Arthur rarely had to discipline or punish his men, but when he did they never made that mistake again. Tristan knew that Arthur was incensed over his behavior, and that he wouldn't go easy on him just because he knew Tristan's past. Tristan would have had it no other way.
At least if he wasn't resting, he wasn't dreaming of Isolde or his misdeeds. Tristan reined in next to Arthur and told him that the path was clear. They would probably make camp just before entering the deeper forest. Arthur simply nodded curtly, and dismissed that scout to the back of the line. Tristan fell back beside Gawain where Cassia sat contentedly in his arms. They rode in uncomfortable silence for several minutes before Gawain asked, "Is the path clear?"
"It is clear to where we shall camp tonight. After that, we will enter the forest, and there is no telling if the Woads have completely taken it back or not," Tristan answered darkly because he knew very well that the Woads ruled these forests. He did not admit it though because he felt no need to frighten Cassia, knowing that she still feared another encounter with the blue warriors.
"But we are far south of the Wall," Galahad said incredulously from beside Gawain.
"Makes little difference. If Rome is not there to stop them, they will take back what is rightfully theirs," Tristan replied with practiced indifference. "I will be scouting shortly, if you don't mind the company," Tristan addressed Gawain with little more than his eyes. Tristan would have taken Cassia, but he knew that she would be happier with Gawain's company. Tristan believed that Cassia despised him, so he would not torment her with his presence.
"No, she can stay. I would hate to tie you down," Gawain answered as he kicked his horse to head up to Bors who was actually quiet at the moment.
"Vanora angry with you," Cassia asked as they pulled up beside the boisterous knight.
"She's been going nuts. She made me sleep in the stables last night," Bors replied loudly.
"You do realize that you have a room in the barracks other than Vanora's hut, don't you," Gawain pointed out as Cassia held back a small smile.
"What difference does it make where I sleep if it's not next to Vanora," the large knight asked in defeat.
Cassia reached over and placed a hand on his large knee. "Perhaps she's the one that needs to hear that, instead of us. She loves you like no other ever could, but she's just a bit worried now with another babe on the way," Cassia spoke sagely.
Tristan rode behind the group, beside Dagonet who was silently lending his support to the scout. Dag knew that there were going to be problems before their return to the fort. All he could do was wait to pick up the pieces. So many times he found himself wishing that Dinadan was alive because the jovial knight had been the only one to be able to truly connect with Tristan. Dinadan could have just looked at the expressionless scout and known what was wrong. Now it was anyone's guess what was on the scout's mind, and no one was willing to venture close enough to lend any assistance.
Dag looked over to the silent scout for a moment. Tristan rode with hunched shoulders as he watched Cassia and Gawain through his fringe. Dagonet cringed at how exhausted his companion looked. His eyes were full of shadows as he shook the tangled hair from his face. Tristan bore a stare of defeat every time his eyes made contact with Cassia and Gawain. Dagonet wasn't sure why this affected Tristan so, but he had a feeling it had to do with the scout's past. Tristan was a man who avoided the past even more than he avoided conversation, and that was saying a lot.
All of a sudden, Tristan kicked his horse into a gallop toward the horizon. His hawk was soaring in the east, and Tristan followed it faithfully. Dagonet noticed Cassia's line of sight follow the scout until he vanished into the landscape as he was oft to do. Dag couldn't tell what he saw in her eyes, but he almost thought it was akin to worry.
XxX
What did you think of Dinadan's death and Tristan still looking for counsel from him even after his death? What do you think of Arthur's reasoning?
There you have it, another chapter. I hope you enjoyed it. As always thanks to those of you who took that time to review as well as all of you who continue to read this story. Please continue to let me know what you think because it really helps me keep going.
