Author's note: Thank you so much for reviewing! As you can see, I need all the help I can get. I would love people to tell me about all the mistakes I made, but please try to do it in a nice way-I don't know any better! I may not be able to update every day, as I have a sibling who is obsessed with the game "007 James Bond Nightfire" and is generally on the only computer in the house at inconvenient times. Not to mention my father who, dissatisfied with my progress in math, has decided that I can't go on fan fiction until I finish chapter one on some math program. Grrr... I will try my hardest, however. I love all my reviewers! Yesterday, I forgot to add a disclaimer, so, here it is.
Disclaimer: I do not own King Arthur or his knights. The characters I own thus far are Rebekah, Rebekah's father, and Sera. I do not own Lancelot or Tristan...But if I did...oh, think of the possibilities!
Their rescuers were Sarmatian knights. Not just any Sarmatian knights. Arthur's Sarmatian knights. These people were in the service of Rome. 'Oh, no. This is not good.' Rebekah thought. The knight who had rescued her turned to the man, who could only be Arthur and said,
"They are Woads." In a calm and controlled way, so that even Rebekah had to listen hard to hear the distrust in his voice.
Arthur did not respond. He was too busy making sure that Guinevere, Rebekah, Sera, and Lucan (a little boy they had found in a cell) had water. Rebekah did not know what to make of this man. Generally, she was able to judge people's actions and thoughts quickly and accurately. This Roman was a different story.
Rebekah had heard about him living with the Woads. Some things Rebekah knew couldn't be true, (she was pretty sure Arthur had not eaten the eyes of every Woad he had killed) but everyone seemed to agree that his father had been a Roman and his mother had been a Briton. For reasons no one seemed to by privy to, he had decided to follow his father's blood, and spill the blood of his mother's people. Rebekah would enjoy the opportunity to study this man, if it didn't mean that he would in turn realize that he had extremely influential Woads in his company.
The man with the mane of braids had returned with a skin of water. This surprised Rebekah. It was a day full of surprises. She had thought that this man did not care if she lived or died. He had taken her from her cell because his commander had ordered it. Rebekah had not heard Arthur order him to give her water. Why was he doing this? Nevertheless, Rebekah accepted the water gratefully, remembering the times she had licked condensation off the walls of her cell, trying to quench her thirst. After the initial shock of the water in her mouth, she completely drained the skin, and handed it back to the knight.
Marius Honorius came stomping into view. What were these people doing? Here he was doing the just thing, offering them salvation, and these people were ruining it all!
"What are you doing? These people are pagans!"
"So are we." Replied a young looking bearded knight.
"These pagans refuse to accept the place God has set for them at the table of life. They must die! As an example! An example!" Marius was desperate to get his point across. The knights were looking at him in a rather unkind manner, they obviously didn't understand!
"Refused to accept their place? You mean they refuse to be your serfs?" Arthur asked, a dangerous note in his voice. Marius obviously missed this, as he responded,
"Yes, yes! You understand!" Arthur interrupted him by roughly grabbing the front of his robes. This was not going the way Marius had planned.
"Of course, as a Roman knight you would understand... as a Christian..."
Arthur released him, a look of deep disgust on his face. Suddenly, Marius noticed his wife kneeling next to Guinevere.
"And you, you kept them alive!" Marius was enraged. His wife stood up, a pleading look on her face, hands stretched out in front of her, as if this gesture would ward off the blow that was to follow. Marius did indeed send her sprawling. In an instant, Arthur was upon him, knocking him to the ground. Marius was more than enraged now. He was confused. He was used to being in charge, to knowing what was going on. This was far out of his range of control.
"When we get to the wall, you will pay for this heresy!" he spat.
Arthur appeared calm as he placed Excalibur upon Marius' throat. His eyes however were glittering. This man called himself a Christian. He was smearing the faith that had seen Arthur through whenever he had felt most alone. He would pay for his heresy.
" Perhaps I should kill you now an seal my fate." Arthur threatened in a steely tone.
Everyone in the circle held their breath. Would he really do it? Just then, the crazed monk clutched Arthur's arm.
"I was willing to die with them, to lead them to their rightful place. It is God's will that these sinners be sacrificed."
Arthur looked at the mad monk with a mixture of malice and hatred. He was just another worthless soul claiming to be a messenger of God.
"Then I will do His will. Wall them back up." Arthur issued the command. The villagers were only too happy to comply, and the monks were swept away in the tide of eager people.
Now Rebekah was really confused. If this was all happening because it was the will of his God, why did he not leave them there? She wasn't the only one. The braided knight approached Arthur, his voice not betraying his thoughts.
" We have no time for this, Arthur. An entire Saxon army is coming. They will be here by nightfall." And, sure enough, they all froze at the sound of the approaching drums.
Rebekah hadn't heard any new information from her Woad allies in a long time, being beaten and tortured for four months. She had not heard of the Saxon invasion. She had not heard that the Romans were going to pull out of Britain. She brought her hand up to her face, and tried to cover her eyes, to think. She blinked at her misshapen hand. If she looked so bad, how were the others?
She turned her head and first saw Guinevere. Arthur had taken a particular interest in her, and had carried her out of the dungeon himself. Her friend's hands resembled her own, and she was filthy. She could barely move, but that was only to be expected. Rebekah wasn't moving too well herself. She looked beyond Guinevere to Sera. Sera had a black eye and her left cheek had deep scratches across it that looked horribly as if they had been delivered by someone's rather choppy nails. The dislocation of the fingers appeared to be a popular form of torture, as hers were misshapen as well. A knight with curly brown locks and scruffy facial hair was kneeling next to her, trying to make her drink. Sera couldn't seem to hold any water down. Marius would pay for this. When Rebekah got her strength back, she would see to that. Never, in all of her life had she felt such loathing. Her mouth formed a malicious grin, before her lip split. Oh, yes. She had something to look forward to.
"Get the wounded into the wagon. We're leaving, Tristan." Arthur said, with such finality, the braided knight known as Tristan didn't even bother to argue that they would be too slow. He had his orders. He picked Rebekah up, not sure why he was trying to be gentle. Her people were constantly trying to kill him. In all likelihood, she had probably fired an arrow or two at him herself at some point. Yet when he had seen here through the bars of her cell, he had not seen an enemy. He had seen helplessness, he had seen despair, but that was not all. He had seen distrust etched in her eyes, the sort an animal gets when being hunted. That had hurt. They had turned her into an animal. She thought he was going to hurt her. He would show her how to trust. He would show her how to be human.
Tristan set her down on a few hastily made piles of clothes. Her eyes closed, and she went to sleep. He stood there for a moment longer, lightly running his finger along the burn under her tattoo. He would look out for her.
Guinevere was already in the wagon, and only lost consciousness after making sure her friends were safely settled in. Sera was curled up in a corner, covered in someone else's cloak. They would be all right. They were out. Guinevere did not know the little boy, but he appeared comfortable in the arms of a large and imposing looking knight. It was time for rest...
When Sera awoke, it was dark. They had stopped for the night, and she tried to get up. She had been cowering in a cell for four months, and had no urge to sleep any longer. She would stretch her legs. She nearly did. She had crawled to the opening of the wagon, and was about to step out, when a pair of hands stopped her. On closer observation, the pair of hands belonged to the curly haired knight who had given her his cloak.
"Where do you think you are going?" he asked.
"For a walk, remove your hands at once." Sera commanded. She had never liked the experience of complete strangers touching her. She especially didn't like when people tried to tell her what was best for her. The curly haired knight obviously didn't know this, as he proceeded to say,
"You shouldn't even be up! You need to regain your strength!"
"I am not child, so do not treat me like one." She hissed, green eyes narrowed. This was not going well. All she wanted was a walk. He had been kind earlier, but now, he was just in the way. She shook off his hands, and tried to make her first step. Her knees buckled beneath her and she fell. 'That's just perfect.' She thought, 'He already thinks I'm a child, now he'll think I'm some delicate flower, in need of protection.' And she did not need protection. All her life, she had been in the shadow of someone else. This did not really bother her. She learned to look after herself, because she was the only one she could count on. She didn't mind that though. You learn more when you are invisible. That all changed when she met Guinevere and Rebekah. They had banded together, and were closer than sisters could ever be. Sera allowed herself, her true self, to be seen when she was with them. With them, she was free. She forced herself to return to the present as gentle hands lifted her right off her feet, and carefully set her down on the edge of the wagon. No one had ever been gentle with her before. She had to put a stop to this madness, or she would get spoiled.
" I'm fine now. You may leave." She had not meant it to be a request, but that was how this knight was treating it.
The knight stood up straighter, chin held high. No woman had ever treated him like this. Women had always been attracted to him, generally simpering and fluttering their lashes. This woman seemed to completely miss his good looks. She behaved as if she was immune to his undeniable charm. No one was. This woman was issuing him orders and clearly expected them to be followed. 'Well' he thought, 'she was just going to have to live with disappointment.'
"I have been charged with your care, and no, I am not leaving." There, that would put the woman in her place. She would be simpering for him by morning.
'Why won't this man leave?' Sera thought. Then she noticed she was still wearing his cloak. 'That must be it, he's getting cold, and he wants his cloak back' she decided, relieved. That had to be it, what else would he want?
"Oh, here's your cloak." Sera said, undoing the clasp and handing it to him.
"No, you keep it. You'll freeze. I wouldn't let a barn cat have kittens in shift you're wearing. You obviously need a new tailor." He said, shoving the cloak back to her, while critically eying the shift in question. It was filthy, ratty, and extremely thin. There was no way she would survive in that wretched excuse of a garment. Not for the first time, his eyes glittered at the thought of the man who had put her in it. Rebekah wasn't the only one with plans for Marius.
"No, really, I insist. Take it back." She said.
"Absolutely not!" He shot back.
This continued on for several minutes until the gentle giant known as Dagonet woke up and glared at them. Really, they were behaving like children.
"If you don't be quiet, you will wake the whole camp, and they will not be as kind as me. Now, stop fighting like children, and go to bed. You," he said, pointing to Sera, "Put on the cloak, or you will freeze in the night. Lancelot, find some dark little corner and mutter yourself to sleep, if you think it will help."
Both being highly embarrassed, they did as they were told, and went to sleep. They would settle this in the morning.
