Thanks for all the readers who have hung in there with me. Here's the next chapter, chock full of- well, everything. Enjoy!


The assent into the mountains was slow. The villagers, half-starved as they were, kept up with the caravan, and when one straggled behind too far, there was always a sturdy shoulder willing to lend support. They had been through worse together.

The horses pulling the heavy-laden wagons trudged along, six knights riding among them. Dagonet was holed up in one such wagon tending to the injured. He had settled in with the young boy and Woad girl before leaving the estate. Tristan rode in front, picking their path carefully through the snow. Arthur ventured back and forth along the stretched line of people, making sure all was moving smoothly. Kayleigh stayed well behind the Roman, Marius, and his guards, not trusting them at her back.

Lancelot, in his anger, had long since abandoned Arthur to ride with Kayleigh at the rear. "This is a mistake," he carried on.

"None of us had a choice, including Arthur," Kayleigh reminded him, surprising herself with her stance on the argument.

"These people didn't need to come along," he muttered.

"No?" Kayleigh rose her eyebrows. "Would you leave them to die?"

Lancelot's jaw clenched. "We will all die now."

Kayleigh had nothing to say to that, after all, it was all she ever saw, day or night, awake or asleep. Blood, death, darkness. Her death had awoken something deep inside and it would not rest now.

"And you had a choice," Lancelot pointed out, pulling her out of her thoughts. "You should have stayed behind the Wall where you were safe."

Kayleigh laughed. "You think the Wall will stop the Saxons?" She shook her head. She had seen it. A hundred tiny cook fires spotting the field beyond the Wall. "Why do you think they're here?" she asked, a shiver running the length of her spine. Her hand rose unconsciously to the deep, angry scar marring her neck.

Lancelot frowned. "Is that what you think? They are here for you?"

Kayleigh shrugged. "I don't know," she sighed.

His charming grin surfaced unexpectedly. "That could be," he said. "I definitely would seek out a beautiful woman, such as yourself. And if I had to cross this damnable island and kill every Woad in sight to do it, it would just be a bonus."

Kayleigh couldn't help it, she laughed. "You're even going to try to charm me here? Now? Does your depravity have no bounds?"

"Especially here and now," Lancelot replied seriously. "What else is there?"

Kayleigh shrugged, having no answer. He smiled, seeing her hands around the reigns relax and the shadows from her eyes fade.

A scream from ahead proved his work in vain as the worry and anxiety resurfaced in the both of them. They exchanged a glance then nudged their mounts into a trot to investigate.

"Kayleigh, wait!" Galahad urged his horse forward planting himself in front of them.

"Galahad, what are you doing?" Kayleigh asked, flustered.

The knight looked away, avoiding her gaze. "What is it?" Lancelot asked, becoming uneasy at Galahad's behavior.

Fury, sensing the mood of her rider, snipped impatiently at Galahad's steed and nudged past. She heard Arthur reassuring the people and urging them to keep moving as she approached.

"No," Kayleigh breathed as the body-strewn field opened up before her. "No!" She dismounted, running to the nearest body, still gripping the standard of the Scots in his frozen hand. Turning slowly, her eyes darted from body to body, searching. There were a number of Saxons among them, the army not bothering to stop long enough to bury their own.

"Over here," Lancelot called. Kayleigh raced over, careful to avoid trampling any bodies, and skidding to a stop on the frozen ground next to Lancelot. There, lay Airell, chieftain of the Scots, and not too far away was his son, Dedric, a wall of dead Saxon bodies encircling them.

"They fought them off a while," Lancelot observed.

Kayleigh pulled Airell's sword from the abdomen of a nearby Saxon, and after using a handful of snow to clean off the blood, laid the hilt into the dead chieftain's frozen hand.

Tristan approached quietly, his boots hardly crunching on the frozen earth. "They are all dead."

"Cadell? Turi?"

"Cadell, yes," Tristan replied. "Turi isn't here."

Kayleigh frowned. Turi was second in command of the Scotti Champions and a massive man. If he were here, Tristan would have found him. "He never would have run from battle."

"Perhaps he stayed in Eire?" Lancelot suggested.

"No, he wouldn't have left the Champions," Kayliegh frowned. In the distance she heard Arthur urging the villagers on the road to continue walking.

"He's not here," Tristan repeated.

Arthur made his way over. "Tristan, we need you at the front."

"We can't just leave them like this," Kayleigh indicated the fallen warriors.

"There's no time," Arthur stated.

Kayleigh's fists balled at her side and despite the biting wind, she felt her face flush. "There was enough time to wall up two men who took pleasure in torturing innocent people!" The knights stopped what they were doing and turned to watch quietly.

Arthur's jaw clenched. "That was necessary- for the people."

A red haze materialized in Kayleigh's vision. "And it's not necessary to bury the leader of a people who fought a war for you? Whose people died for you?" she yelled.

"Everyone here will die if we linger any longer," Arthur replied grimly.

"Go then," Kayleigh yelled, pointing to the road. "Go! I will do the honorable thing!"

"I'll help," Gawain offered, stepping forward. "They saved my life."

"We will catch up with you," Lancelot said before Arthur could command otherwise.

"An hour, no longer," Arthur demanded. He turned back toward the caravan. "Tristan!" he called over his shoulder.

Tristan picked up a rock at his feet and handed it to Kayleigh before following Arthur reluctantly.

Less than an hour later, Kayleigh, Lancelot, and Gawain rejoined the caravan. They had worked quickly and silently, laying stone after icy stone upon three separate graves.

"I wish we could have buried them all," Kayleigh told Tristan once she joined him at the front.

"You did what you could," he murmured. "It's enough."

Kayleigh nodded. "They didn't burn them," she pointed out, not bothering to ask if he had noticed. "They left them to the animals and elements."

"Yes," Tristan concurred.

"Will they do the same to us?" Kayleigh asked, unsure if she wanted to know the answer.

Tristan shrugged. "Only if they catch us."

Hoof beats approach from behind and Arthur pulled his horse up beside Tristan's. "We'll need to stop soon," he said, ignoring Kayleigh. "The people can't go much longer."

"Here's as good as anywhere," he told his commander, pulling his horse to the side of the road. They were passing a large frozen meadow. It was enough room for everyone and running water could be heard in the distance.

Arthur glanced around. "We'd be out in the open."

"We'd spot the Saxons before they're upon us," Tristan replied.

Arthur considered and looked back at the straggling line of villagers then up at the darkening sky. "It looks like we don't have much choice. Halt!" he called out to the wagons passing by. Dagonet came out of the wagon to investigate and the knights gathered around Arthur.

Arthur informed them all of his plans to make camp and sent Tristan to scout the trail for tomorrow. Kayleigh watched as he sent Ayn to flight and raced after her trail. To have such freedom…

She hardly noticed the knights around her moving to obey Arthur's orders and their commander's voice in the background directing the villagers.

"'Tis a beautiful country, is it not?" a woman's voice pierced Kayleigh's thoughts.

Startled, she turned to see the Woad woman address Lancelot. He remained atop his horse, turning his head to look at the tattooed woman.

"If you say so," he replied, unconvinced.

"And where do you come from that compares? The Black Sea?" she asked.

Kayleigh narrowed her eyes.

Lancelot did turn around then, hiding his disbelief a little better than her.

"This is heaven for me," she continued.

He fed her one of his charming lines he routinely does to fill an awkward silence, but Kayleigh noticed the absence of his usual mischievous smirk. After their grim labor earlier, she figured he had no heart for flirting.

Kayleigh turned away then, as the rain began to fall alongside the snow, to find Jols. After gathering what little dry firewood they could find among the trees and lighting small fires for the villagers, they went about gathering the knight's horses. Galahad, Gawain, and Bors were set along the perimeter of camp to keep the first watch, while Dagonet, Lancelot, and Arthur rested.

"You rest," Kayeligh told Jols.

"I couldn't if I tried," Jols replied, with a forced smile.

"Don't try," Kayleigh suggested. "Just lie down and close your eyes. Soon, you'll awake to tomorrow."

Jols hesitated.

"I'll wait for Tristan," she added slowly.

Jols mouth opened to reply, then snapped closed. "Right," he said with a genuine smile this time. "I'll just…" he pointed behind him and began walking.

Kayleigh shook her head and continued brushing the dried sweat and rain from Lancelot's horse. She had found a nicely protected area, both from the wind and snow. It was also secluded from the villagers and Romans, which provided her with a small sense of protection.

The work had done its job- keeping her busy and warming her up. She removed her hood and cloak, feeling as if steam was rising off her skin.

"Friend of beasts," a man's voice greeted from the trees behind her.

Kayleigh whorled, pulling her sword free. The horses whinnied, stamping their feet in alarm.

"Ah," Merlin smiled at her, white teeth in contrast with his blue skin. "We've done this before."

"Why are you here?" Kayleigh growled. The lightning bolt along her sword gave off a faint red glow.

"Angry are we?" he asked. "Good."

"Speak sense old man!" Kayleigh hissed.

Merlin held up a hand. "I am not here for you."

Kayleigh's eyebrows creased in thought. "The Woad woman."

"Yes, very wise," he replied. "Except when it comes to your own nature. You have yet to figure that out."

"What do you know if it?" she asked furiously, the red glow growing brighter. "I know I buried friends today, at least, the ones I had time to, while you hid in the trees, careful not to smudge your paint! Oh, yes, I could smell you."

"Careful, girl," he warned. "Those aren't the last of your friends to die."

With a cry, Kayleigh swung her sword. Merlin neatly blocked with his staff before swinging it behind Kayleigh's feet. She landed with a thud on her back, the air retreating with a rush from her lungs. "They will not die by my hand," he added calmly. "And our warriors are amassing to join with yours- under the right leader."

Kayleigh rolled over, coughing.

"Kayleigh," Gawain stepped into the sheltered clearing. "Are you well?" he asked, rushing to her side and helping her up.

"Yes," she rasped, glancing around but finding Merlin gone. "I slipped."

"Slipped?" he asked confused. "I heard a yell and the horses sounded frightened. I thought-"

"No," Kayleigh replied. "It's just a bit icy there," she said, pointing where she had fallen. "I'm fine, really."

Gawain watched her, skeptical, before nodding and returning to his post.

She sighed with relief, which sent her into another fit of coughing. Finding a water skin, she took a gulp, letting the cold liquid sooth her dry throat. She picked up her cloak, spreading it on a patch of dry pine needles. It would make a fine bed for a night on the road.

A twig snapped behind her and for the third time that night, Kayleigh jumped. "Tristan," she said, putting her hand over her pounding heart. "You're back."

"You're here alone?" he asked, concern accenting his voice.

She glanced around, worried his sharp eyes had seen something. "Yes?" she replied, watching him loop the reigns of his horse over a tree branch.

"Good," he whispered, striding over to her. Tristan plunged his hands into her hair, pulled her to him, and kissed her hard.


Reviews needed! I don't know what these characters are doing. They've hijacked my story.