Hi, people. I'm in Kansas. I'm sorry this chapter is so short. I don't have much time to type it up, and it was emotionally draining/disturbing to write. Let me know how it is, I'm not sure if I got it right. Thanks for all the reviews!
Guinevere did not feel the cold. She had been worse off before, at least now she had a cloak about her form. The snow fell softly around her; her feet barely making any noise as they glided over the forest floor. She was nervous, but it didn't show. She was an ambassador for her people now, and could show no weakness. Deliberately, she stepped on a twig.
Arthur's eyes snapped open. Someone was out there.
Guinevere.
She looked so...intriguing...there in the shadow of the trees. Her gaze flicked over him briefly before it returned to the forest. Where was she going? He got up as quietly as he could and followed her.
They were not the only ones awake. Lancelot looked curiously after them. What was going on here? Arthur wasn't the type to go for a quick tumble in the woods. He and Guinevere had been eying each other since they met, and Lancelot wondered if they realized how obvious they were being. It was odd, really. Arthur, who always tried to ignore his mother's blood was now falling in love with a Woad. The world really was full of mysteries.
Guinevere herself was full of mystery. There was no denying that the woman was beautiful, but she seemed so...distant, aloof. She lacked Sera's warmth. Well, Sera was warm after the initial frost. Guinevere seemed to be pure ice. Around Arthur, though, she was different. She was alive. They would be the making of each other. Lancelot would have great fun watching the process.
Dagonet sighed. The boy, Lucan, was still asleep on his lap. He wanted to get out his bedding, but he didn't want to wake the child. The boy needed his rest. Dagonet's eyes wandered across the fire to were Marius was speaking in hushed tones with his men. What were they up to? It couldn't be good, whatever it was. As far as Dagonet was concerned, Marius was a blight upon the race of men. He did nothing but cause pain and suffering for others. And now, he was supposed to protect Marius, for his own freedom. The Gods had a peculiar sense of humor. He hoped they were enjoying this, because he certainly wasn't. He could have no respect for a man who would beat his wife, even without his other offenses, including torturing the slumbering child in his lap.
He saw Fulcinia approach her husband tentatively. It was the stride and posture of a woman who had given up all hope of happiness in life. Dagonet hated those mannerisms. He had seen far too much of it over the years. Yet, this woman had another side. She had helped the Woads, bringing them food, just talking to them. Later, she had tended to their wounds wordlessly, bathed them, given them her own clothing. Before she had defied her husband quietly, but now she did it openly. She wasn't holding up well. She was shaking, clearly afraid that her husband would strike her for what she had done. Dagonet watched them carefully. He would do what he could for this woman, Roman or not. She spoke in a hushed whisper, and he barely acknowledged her presence. He was dealing with important matters, and had no time to give her the beating that she so obviously deserved. He waved her away with an impatient hand. She nearly dashed away, but instead, went across to the other side of the fire, to check on Lucan.
Lucan was fast becoming dear to her, as dear as her own son, Alecto. She was grateful to this knight (Dagonet was it?) who was looking after him so well. She gently picked up the boy, and Dagonet gave her a thankful look. He went to his horse, and retrieved his bedding. When he returned, Fulcinia was still there, cradling Lucan. Her fingers lingered over his curls, her lips forming a small smile. She would look after him now.
"He can sleep next to me, he didn't want to stay in the wagon with all those giggling girls." Dagonet said. He didn't think the girls were the giggling type, but Lucan was adamant. Girls had cooties.
Fulcinia looked up at him in surprise. Men didn't talk to her very often, they were worried Marius would get the wrong idea. Her experience with me thus far had not been satisfactory. She had grown up with her father and uncles constantly watching her. They didn't love her, they were just looking to see if she had any redeeming qualities. At the age of fourteen, they had sold her off to Marius. She had been a pretty young thing then, though now, no one would recognize her. She was only a shadow of the girl that she once was. She was a woman now, a woman with few joys, and rarely smiled. She lived in constant fear, you couldn't retain your soul in such an environment. She found joy in her son, even if she had had to share Marius' bed to get him. She would endure any sort of torture for her son. He was her world. Now, Lucan would join that world, and this man wanted to help as well. Most men saw the position of nursemaid as an embarrassment. He didn't. He was gentle with everyone, a rarity of a man his size. He had scars slashing across his face. He was by no means a handsome man, but he was so kind that hardly mattered. It could do no wrong to speak to him.
"Thank you, I'm sure he would like that." She deposited Lucan in Dagonet's arms, and quickly turned and walked away. There. She had done it. She had spoken to a man and not collapsed in fear. It was progress. Perhaps, someday, she would work up the nerve to take her son away from that bastard that she had been sold to. That was a laugh. She knew she would never have that strength. Some women had it. She didn't. What would she do? Where would she go? Marius would never stand for her running off, especially with his only son. His only legitimate son, anyway. God only knew how many bastards the bastard had. She didn't really mind though. If he was sharing a whore's bed, it meant that he wasn't in hers. She did feel sorry for the other women though. As much as Marius liked to believe it, he was not God's gift to women. He was a selfish lover, if lover was the correct term. He didn't care about a woman's pain or discomfort. As long as he got what he wanted, it didn't matter to him.
Fulcinia reached the carriage that she was to share with Marius. She curled up into a ball, and rocked herself, crying softly. Perhaps he would be too busy tonight to come to her, perhaps he would be tired. But she knew, deep down, that there was a price to be paid for what she had done. For as much as he claimed to be a representative of God, he only used God to get what he wanted. He was the worst kind of hypocrite; he was a shame to God, if there was one. If there was a God, why did he let all of this happen? Why did he allow Marius to live? She prayed to whatever God was listening to help her, to save her. If they wouldn't do that, at least would they give her the strength to take her own life? Take it for her? Her tears streamed faster now, she couldn't stop them. Hwat was she going to do?
She could smell his foul odor, hear his heavy, lusty breath. He was here. There was nowhere to hide, she couldn't fight him. He grabbed hold of her hair and she heard someone scream. It was her. And then he was gone, there was another face above her. Dagonet. He gathered her in his arms, and rocked her gently, as he would a child. Marius was lying unconscious at his feet. He had heard Fulcinia's screams, and come running. That son of Satan had hold of her hair, his fist poised to strike. He didn't even think, he just reacted. He gave Marius a hard blow to the back of the head. He would wake up grumpy in the morning. He would worry about that later. For now, he just held the crying woman closer, trying to erase what just happened. He wanted to erase every painful memory, but he couldn't. He couldn't fight this. It was done, there was nothing he could do about it. He carried Fulcinia to the wagon where Rebekah and Sera slept softly. He woke Sera and set Fulcinia gently down beside her. She would be taken care of, and Sera would be able to protect her from any other...unpleasantness...
Dagonet returned to Lucan, and checked to make sure his sword was within his reach. He would need it soon. He had made an enemy of a powerful Roman. When Marius awoke, he would be after his blood. Dagonet liked his blood where it was for the moment.
