Arthur, King of the Britons...
A/N: Okay I know alll this preparitory dtufff is boring but well, it's nesscessary. Pleas leave me a review after you've finished, Candy for reviewers!
Chapter VI: What you think you know is not always the truth...
Igraine opened her eyes and blinked at the ceiling of the wagon. She took a deep breath and winced.
"Oww" she said softly, pressing a hand to her chest, there was a deep ache in her chest. She sat up slowly, but her head was spinning. She paused and waited for the moment to pass. She glanced around and noticed a dark ebony dress with white and red ribbon embroidery on the neckline, cuffs and hem. The dress was soft and clean. She sat upwards and noted a basin of water and a cloth. Just as she began to move the cloth over the wagons entry was pulled aside. Fulcinia stepped inside with a kindly smile.
"You're awake!" the accented words were kindly. The woman knelt beside her. "Let me help." Gently the older woman used the soft cloth and water to wipe off any dirt on the young woman's body. Fresh bandages were put around her lower ribs and down on her hips, along with re-wrapping her left hand. Fulcinia then helped her do her soft golden hair. Soft grey ribbons were threaded through her hair, creating a grey and gold crown around Igraine's head. Igraine looked in the mirror and noted the darkness beneath her blue eyes.
"Turn around." Fulcinia brought out several pouches of condiments. Carefully Fulcinia applied powders and pastes to remove the signs of illness.
When Igraine looked once more in the small mirror she saw a different face looking back. Her lips and skin was more normal and her eyes seemed less dark and bloodshot. She looked up at Fulcinia wh had tears standing in her large eyes.
"Why?" she asked softly. Fulcinia smiled.
"When you go out when we get to the wall, there must be no sign of weakness, from you my dear." Igraine looked at the small dark woman.
"I killed your husband." Fulcinia nodded at the words.
"You must be strong." She turned away and gathered the bowl and condiments before leaving. Igraine paused before following her outside. It was mid afternoon. Igraine took a waterskin and drank her fill before setting it back down. In the distance she saw the wall as they lowered onto the plain beneath it.
She watched as they turned and ran along parallel to the great wall.
She slipped from the wagon and walked beside it, her legs were shaky, but they held as she walked. She knew that within days she would be fighting for her life, and her strength would not fully be recovered. She sighed.
"Why do you sigh so?" startled, she looked up at the Roman boy's face as his wagon pulled alongside.
"Why do the ducks fly south?" she asked. He frowned at the question. "I am afraid." She spoke the words softly, as though to say them louder might be unlucky. "Afraid for my people." He nodded in understanding.
"They say you are a great leader." He said. She looked up at him. "My mother says you are very brave, very important. She has given you her finest gown." He added. She sighed once more, her fingers traced the ribbons on the cuffs of the black dress. The boy was not a fool even if he was a little timid. Then she remembered his offer back at the frozen river.
"Bravery is not everything, Alecto." She said. "In Rome bravery will not help you, politics is a far more deadly game than battle." He nodded at the warning implied in her words.
"I do not want to go there." He said without reserve. She felt a pity for the boy, he was older than she had been when her brother was killed and she became chief of a village but he was still to young.
"Do not show fear, Alecto. If you do no matter who tries to protect you, you will fall." She said the words with experience. He nodded. "Remember Arthur's words. You must come to prominence in Rome. You can make a difference Alecto." He nodded, his dark eyes haunted in a way no one his age should be. She smiled at him and moved away.
She moved quickly away from the wagon and moved forwards down the line. Pausing occasionally to speak with those wh called her name. Many seemed to see her as a leader.
Lancelot looked backwards at the call of a name and turned Roshian, the great roan neighed as he trotted backwards. Igraine looked up and smiled as he pulled up alongside her. He leant down.
"Igraine, care for a ride?" he asked, holding out his arm. She nodded after a moment and he lifted her up in front of him. She settled there with a guarded smile. He urged Roshian to a gallop. She was looking up at the wall, her eyes dark with some emotion he could not quite understand.
"What are you thinking?" he asked softly as he reined the great horse in. She looked at him with a frown.
"I was wondering... Why did the Saxons invade above the wall, when they could have landed their ships below it." He frowned, the same thought had crossed his mind. "It seems to me a grave tactical error." He nodded.
"There was a fleet of Rman warships in the straits but I doubt that would have deterred the Saxons..." he replied thoughtfully. She shook her head. They rode on lost in thought as the sun shone a warmth upon the fields.
The great gate opened and as they passed under it she whispered something softly.
"What did you say?" he asked just as softly as the caravan continued on.
"It divides us." She said, turning to look at him. "The wall. It makes an 'us' and a 'them'." He turned back to look at the tall wall. "It creates a barrier, in our minds and in our hearts. To defeat the Saxons, the wall in our hearts and minds must be torn down." She smiled at him as he looked back at her. "We must become one with each other- I must become one with myself." She said her eyes looking into the distance. He frowned.
"I know." She said it softly, her eyes turning to the sky. "Finally I know." She looked back at him. "My father was a knight, from your blood I get my qualities in battle and leadership, but also from my mothers side." Her blue eyes were alight as though she was feverish. "She was a healer, a witch you would call her." She smiled wider. "The Romans have a saying, 'Divide and conquer, divide and rule.'" She nodded to herself "I know at last..." she added softly as she turned back to gaze ahead. He felt a strange pull at his heart as her hair streamed back from its bindings, a fearless light in her bright eyes. He knew that feeling, that gut wrenching heart stopping feeling, he was afraid for her. He swallowed his fears as they dismounted and the wagon's came into the courtyard.
"The gods be praised! Against all the armies of Satan could muster!" came the voice of the snakelike Bishop. Lancelot felt a fear in him as he watched Alecto step down from the wagon. The boy looked to where Igraine stood beside Lancelot. She smiled at the boy. He turned back and allowed the Bishop to embrace him. "Alecto! Look at you! You have thrived here!" he said as he stepped back from the boy.
"Bishop Germanus. Friend of my Father." Interrupted Arthur, his voice cold and bitter. The man turned and smiled in a sickening way.
Igraine knew disgust and fear for Alecto as the Roman in fine robes hugged him. She was surprised at Arthur's icy tones. He seemed angry beyond measure.
"Ah. Arthur, of course." She heard distantly the man call for release papers. She saw Lucan make a dash.
"Lucan!" Guinevere called as a soldier made to stop the boy, the child was crying he gripped Gawain's hand, the blonde knight held the weeping boy, they seemed to get along well since Dagonet's death. Galahad drew a dagger and placed it at the mans neck. A sudden dark tension filled the air.
"Of course. Here, here are the release papers giving you free passage throughout the Roman empire." He said motioning to the papers as Arthur turned away. Lancelot strode forwards and grabbed the papers from the box. He gave one each to Galahad and Gawain. He gripped Bors.
"Bors." The man just stared at the Bishop with loathing. "Bors!" repeated Lancelot. The man took the two scrolls. "For Dagonet." Said Lancelot softly. Bors shook his head.
"He doesn't need this." He said, his words filled volatile emotions. "He's already free, you hear?" he cried. "He's already Free!" Bors threw down the papers and strode off, Lancelot followed after the knight, Gawain and Galahad retrieved the papers while Tristan took the box and they left. Igraine sighed at the harsh reminder of her failure just a few days before caused a dark cloud across the possibilities of her revelation f just a few moments earlier. She smiled at Fulcinia and hugging the older woman she thanked her. Fulcinia shook her head with tears in her eyes.
"Thank you. For everything." Said Alecto as Igraine withdrew from Fulcinia's embrace.
"No, Thank you." She lowered her tone as the Bishop leaned closer to hear. "You are our hope, Alecto. Do not fail us." She smiled and he nodded. "And never lose hope." She turned away.
"Who are you?" she did not pause. "Halt" Two soldiers made t stop her. She turned and drew herself tall.
"Who? Me?" she asked innocently. She smiled regally. "I am Morgana Lafaye, of the Loch." She said using the title Merlin had given her and the names her mother had given her. He frowned at her use of a name she knew he must have known if he had known Arthur's father. She turned back to the guards.
"Let her go!" commanded Alecto, his voice more manly than she had ever heard it. The guards waited for the Bishop's wave. Reluctantly they let her pass. She motioned for Guinevere and Lucan to go with her as she stepped away.
Quietly she began to speak in Celtic.
"Guinevere, you must got to Arthur, he will need you, he will need you heart and mind." Guinevere nodded.
"And you," she knelt in front of Lucan, "You will be going with Bors, and the other Knights." She smiled. "They will take to a place where you will be safe." She brushed at his dirty blonde hair. "I promise." She stood as a woman approached. The woman was shapely with thick red curls and an open pleasant face. Several children followed her and a babe was in the crook of one arm.
"Are you Vanora?" asked Igraine, as she placed an arm around Lucan's small shoulders.
"Yes." She smiled down at the little boy.
"This is Lucan." Said Guinevere. Vanora smiled at the boy.
"Come here me lad." The kindness that radiated from her drew the child like a magnet. Igraine released him as the motherly little woman insinuated him amongst and at a nod from Igraine the woman and her children where moving away with Lucan in the middle of the group. Igraine closed her eyes as Guinevere moved away, her thoughts straying to the man who was watching her from the distance. His dark eyes were boring into her. She turned and looked at the Bishop. There was an expression of shock and amazement on his face. He moved slowly from the shadows.
"You are aren't you?" he said almost rhetorically. She smiled slightly as she saw the truth in his eyes. He knew. He knew who she was, what she was and would become.
Arthur looked away from where the knights said goodbye to Dagonet. He knelt by the mud without a sword.
"A mound without a sword." Said Guinevere, as though she had read his mind. She knelt beside him.
"My father's grave." He said softly. "It was his wish that if he died here he was to be buried with his knights." He said simply.
She was silent a moment. "I can see why you would think there is nothing here for you. But you're wrong." The words were soft, yet carried a thousand meanings. "That sword is of this place, the iron is from this earth, as is a part of you." Arthur looked away down below. The grass was green despite winters onslaught, within a few day that grass would be red with blood and the screams and mans of the dying would fill the air that at that moment was filled with the scent of flowers. He looked down and sighed. There at the foot of his fathers grave grew a small plant, its pale blue flowers carried a hint of purple. He plucked one of the unusual flowers and smiled. He had not seen them since he was a child.
He smiled for the first time in days. Guinevere stayed silent as he regarded the flower. A gentle breeze ruffled them and the knights behind them stayed still and silent for just a moment. "Love freed the sword..." he murmured into the silence.
Lancelot moved away from the place where all the knights had been buried, many of his friends had been interred there, their bodies taken far from their homes and then placed in foreign soil to rot. He made his way down the hill and towards the settlement, his thoughts on finding Igraine. He wondered about her 'revelation' that she had had, about becoming one. He laughed bitterly, He was as divided as she, he had made many oaths, one to his family, another to Arthur, and one to himself. He had sworn he would return, he had sworn t protect and he had sworn that this time he would not let go.
He would not let Igraine go. Other women he had. Their had been two of them. One had died and the other had married a local man. This time he had promised would be different. He sensed that soon he would brake one or all of those vows and that was painful to a man who took oaths seriously.
He moved aimlessly but with purpose, he then saw her, she stood in the lee of a building, her face turned to the wall. He could see even at the distance that her chest was heaving. And then he saw whom she spoke to. His finery stood out in the dank street. Lancelot paused, his mind in turmoil. He crept closer; keeping out of her sight and hoping the Bishop would not see him.
The Bishop reached out a shaking hand to touch her cheek, she slapped the hand away. Lancelot stated forwards but the Bishop was already backing away, fleeing the words Igraine flung at him as Lancelot ran forwards, He touched Igraine's shoulder. She spun, startled and he saw the fear in her large eyes. For all the finery and face paint he could feel her pain and uncertainty.
"Igraine?" he asked softly. She licked her lips nervously.
"Yes?" she asked with an out of character timidity.
"I something wrong?' She mustered a smile and shook her head.
"No—Yes." She half laughed at herself and shook her head again. "Something I had hoped to avoid. But lies do not hold next to the burning truth, do they?" she asked. She shrugged as he raised an eyebrow.
"More riddles for you my dear." She reached a hand up and placed it on his cheek. "It's alright Lancelot, dearest one." She smiled and took his hand. "Come with me." And he followed her away.
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