"Why didn't you tell me Arthur served under Rome?"

The question had been mulled over in the mind of the sarmatian for quite some time. Looking towards Guinevere for an answer she moved closer towards the fire.

"That was how Lancelot died. They were serving Rome, I thought it might be best to tell you after you'd had time for it to sink in."

"How? Tell me how he died and what part Rome played."

"The knights went north of the wall to save a Roman family, something to do with the Pope. That was where they found me. I had been entombed for being a woad. We took the family and the villagers to safety. They were being attacked by invaders, Saxons I think. The knights and my people took up arms and we fought. Many fell that day, but the innocent still live. He died serving under Rome but he died at the hands of a Saxon."

"Then both deserve to suffer. But at least his death was not in vain."

Moving closer still to the fire, Artemis lowered her head staring into the flames. They were free and somewhat enchanting. Like Lancelot. Whatever she looked at reminded her of her brother. The man she had detested for so much of her life. She was so much like him, strong willed and arrogant. She could tell why people compared her to him, but the fact that she still needed to be her own person was one that was often overlooked. How could she possibly make something of her life when she lived in his shadow. He was dead. Nothing could change that. She could only honour his memory by moving on. Porcelain skinned hands dug deep into the earth closing around a handful of dirt. Artemis paused before throwing it into the fire and exiting quickly. Guinevere stood to stop her, mouth opening to say something, but she didn't.

Stroking the head of the brown stallion known as Dante, Arthur saw her exit. He saw the look of anguish on Guinevere's face and immediately went to her. Wrapping two well toned arms around her, he paused as she explained what had happened. He'd give Artemis some time alone. God knows she was going to need it. He knew only too well that grief was hard to cope with, but she would manage. She was Lancelot's sister.

Alone. That was exactly what Artemis was. She threw a stone into the river. Her head had never felt so crowded, thoughts contending for what should be acknowledged. It was enough to make anyone feel the way she did. Leaning against the rough wooden fence that surrounded the water she sighed, a single tear falling down her left cheek.

"I know it's nice to be alone, but sometimes it's not always best."

The voice made her jump. He knew he had made her jump. It was quite amusing but Tristan didn't laugh. Instead he moved to stand next to her, gaze drifting sideways to look at her. She was quite pretty considering she was related to Lancelot. He'd never been that impressed by him, but he was a loyal friend so he missed him. Not as much as some of the others. But he missed him.

"Thought helps nobody, act on instinct. It'll do you the world of good."

Artemis gave him a quick look up and down before her eyes rested on his face.

"And you sir, are?"

"Tristan"

"Funny. Someone told me you were dead."

"Evidently not luv. Now will you grace me with your name or not?"

"Artemis, sir."

"Lancelot had only one sister and I know for a fact her name was not Artemis."

"My name is Helena, though to you and everyone else I am Artemis. Now how exactly do you know of my real name?"

"Lancelot never could keep his mouth shut. He told us all you were a blonde angel, a good family girl. Though I can see you must have changed. Your attitude mimics that of your brother though you are definitely your mother's daughter. He told us you couldn't fight, yet here you are leading a rebellion."

"You know more of my life than I believe I do, Lancelot was the same. Always knew things, told everyone but his own family. Well he can't anymore, not with us all dead and buried save for me. I never thought I'd be having this conversation with you. I was told you were fond of violence."

"I am girl, a good kill relieves a lot of anger, but that doesn't mean I can't be understanding."

"Mhm"

"C'mon lass, we'll go drown your sorrows. It might do you some good, leading a small army can only be done when you're not entirely sober. I know that for a fact."

"I suppose one drink can't do that much damage."

"One drink? You'll be needing a lot more than that."