Here's the sequel to "Rebekah of the Woads" You may have noticed that I added two characters very near the end, and gave no satisfactory explanation as to why they were in the story. It's because I wanted them in this one. Have fun, and let me know how it is.

Sera was pale as death. Her eyes were out of focus, and she appeared to be hyperventilating. Lancelot couldn't help but be concerned.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

Sera just continued to stare straight ahead at the village they were rapidly approaching. "Your mother is going to hate me. Your mother is going to hate me..."

She continued to repeat this, until Lancelot silenced her with a kiss.

"She'll love you because I do. Besides, she'll be so happy to see me, she won't care that I'm not going to marry a Sarmatian girl." Said Lancelot, trying to quash his own doubts. His mother could be a rather...opinionated woman. She was not to be trifled with. She would probably hit him upside the head for not coming home sooner. They had waited at least a month after they were released to head home. She probably wouldn't appreciate the fact that he had no intention of staying. Well, if he did die this day, he could honestly say that he had not died a virgin. That was something, wasn't it?

Rebekah laughed. Poor Sera! Lancelot's village was closest, so it was the first stop on their list. Tristan's was last, so she had some time to breath before finding out if Tristan's mother really blew fire. She would probably get extremely nervous as they approached the end, and could only pray that it wouldn't show. She had a reputation to uphold.

They were a group of ten. Ten adventurers, with their first glimpse of accomplishment. The Woad women among them had opted not to wear their traditional battle garments, and instead borrowed some clothes from their various Sarmatian (or in Aine's case, Saxon) significant others. The Sarmatians were unfamiliar with the Woads as it was; there was no need to alarm them further.

Sebbi was grinning like a madman, which Aine would argue he was. A new country to explore! He had thought that he would spend the rest of his days exploring Britain, but this, this was incredible! The knights had not jested when they said that this was one of the most beautiful countries they had ever seen. Aine looked on, shaking her head. She couldn't believe that she had let Sebbi talk her into going with him! She was a Briton. She liked her home very much, thank you. Why did she need to know anything else? He was always trying to educate her on something or another, which generally resulted in Aine threatening him with castration. It took him at least twenty minutes to start up again.

Sera came to a decision. Her ancestors had ruled Britain during the days of the warrior chiefs. She would not let one woman defeat her. She was stronger than that! She would hold her head high! Lancelot noticed the change in his woman, and smiled. She would be all right if she continued to lie to herself, as she undoubtedly was. Sera could get through anything by tricking herself.

"You still have your war clothes, right?" He asked.

Sera snapped her head in his direction. She needed to focus! "Yes, why?"

"I really think it would be beneficial for you to wear later..."

Sera's mouth fell open. "Lancelot, we're close to your village! Your mother can probably hear you!"

"She can't hear me!" Lancelot scoffed.

"Oh yes, she can. Mothers have this strange sort of telepathy with their children. Don't deny it!"

He probably shouldn't have told Sera that his mother fancied herself a sorceress. He had said that in a moment of playfulness, and Sera had never forgotten it. As often as Lancelot tried to tell her it had all been a jest, Sera was convinced he was lying. And he was. Lancelot's mother did fancy herself a sorceress of sorts. He had very odd childhood memories. His mother had an ability to see through all of his very clever lies. It was rather unsettling. She also claimed to possess the power to hex those that vexed her. Lancelot didn't want to believe that it was true; It was probably just a coincidence that his paternal grandmother had lost all of her teeth after telling his mother that she hadn't given her son any decent children. Just a coincidence.

They were spotted by a young sentry, and were quickly surrounded by men and women far too old to remain on horses. The old Sarmatian warriors were confused. The men (but for one) were obviously of their own race. But who were the women? Why were they here?

Lancelot reached for a compartment of his saddle, and removed an amulet his sister had given him just before he left. They would recognize this, even if they didn't recognize him. Fifteen years changed many things, but this amulet had been in the family for longer than anyone could remember. This would not be forgotten. He held the amulet out for all to see, and looked into their eyes, searching for any recognition. Where was his family? Had they survived without him? A man rode forward, a rather shocked expression on his face. He knew that amulet! This was his son! But, how the years had changed him! He was not a beardless boy, now. He was a man. He was alive! That was no small miracle. Fifteen years of warfare did not leave many survivors.

"Lancelot?"

"Babai?"

"Well met. We have been waiting for you. Your mother, Amage, has been telling us that you would return."

"She's still claiming to have visions?" he asked, nervously glancing at Sera.

"Claiming? Don't let her hear you say that. She might get upset."

"I'll try to remember that. I like my teeth where they are."

Sera looked at him questioningly. He hadn't told her the tooth story.

"Who are your companions?" Babai asked.

Lancelot introduced his friends in turn, Sera growing increasingly nervous, until everyone's attention was fixed on her. She gulped, as Lancelot said,

"And this is Sera. We are betrothed."

There was an audible gasp that traveled across the circle of Sarmatians. One of their few young men was wasting himself on a foreigner? They had so few men left to repopulate their tribes, yet this one chose not to try at all? They would surely die out, if this trend continued. Babai chose not to voice his concerns at this point. The poor woman looked about ready to fall off her horse, she didn't need to be embarrassed in front of everyone. He would talk to Lancelot later.

"Come, your mother will be waiting."

And with that, the party continued on, to the village Lancelot had once called home. The scent in the air was familiar, and he was surprised to see how many people he actually remembered. It had been such a long time, and the years had not been kind to these people. Even his father looked about ready to return to the earth. His father had always been strong, and Lancelot was surprised to see how his clothes fluttered about his thin frame. He was not the man he once was. They came to a tent near the center of the village, and a young woman came out to meet them. She had curly brown hair, and brown eyed that looked strikingly like his own. This was his sister, Habren. She had only been about five when he left, she would be twenty now. Why wasn't she married? She was far past the age when his people started their own families. Yet, here she was, still sharing the family tent.

The party dismounted, and Lancelot stepped forward to meet the female half of his family. He and his sister eyed each other in a calculated manner, searching for any topic of conversation. It was not often that words failed Lancelot. He could think of nothing to say now.

"You don't seem too surprised to see me." He said, rather lamely.

"I'm not. Mother has been talking at us for days about you coming back."

Habren studied the rest of the group. Who were all these people? Over half of them weren't Sarmatians.

Suddenly, a rather short woman made an appearance. Her hair that had once been pure brown was now streaked with grey. Her eyes that had always seemed so far out of reality were more so in its depths. She strided over to Lancelot and enveloped him in a fierce hug. This quick action caught Lancelot off guard and he nearly yelped. He quickly covered this with a tight smile.

"Hello, Mother."

"What took you so long? You could have been here a month ago!" she chided him.

"We had to stay for my commander, Arthur's wedding. He's King of Britain now. Speaking of weddings, I'm going to be married as well. This is Sera." He said, taking this opportunity to introduce the love of his life to his very individual mother.

Amage and Sera stared at each other, measuring. Amage internally chuckled. The girl was clearly terrified, though she was making a brave attempt at hiding it. She was nearly shaking! Lancelot, silly boy that he was, had probably told Sera horrifying stories of her. She wondered what was so special about this foreign woman, that she should catch her son's eye. She was not an attractive woman; she did not appear to be overly sensual. Yet there was a definite strength about the way she held herself. She would do, yes. She would do just fine. If she made her son happy, Amage couldn't really object. She knew others of the tribe would, however. They had far too many young women without husbands. Rome had taken their men, and rarely returned them. Her own daughter, Habren was without a husband for that very reason. A shortage of males was forcing the Sarmatians into extinction. Amage was one of the few that saw interracial marriages as the answer. They could pass along their stories and their traditions just as well with another culture. If they continued as they were, there would be no one left to share their story. She foresaw the doom of her people.

"Welcome." Amage said simply to Sera.

Sera visibly relaxed. She was not completely at ease, but it was not as bad as when they first arrived.

Amage looked around the rest of the group. They would not have the tents to accommodate so many.

Seeing the direction of his mother's gaze, Lancelot said, "We all have our own tents. We can get our own food, you needn't worry about us."

Amage gave him a scathing look. "No need to insult your mother, boy. I will feed you, and you will see the error of your ways." Trying to say that she couldn't hand this number of guests? He really had turned into a twit in his absent years.

Trying to appease his mother, Lancelot said, "I wasn't trying to offend you, it's just we don't want to be a burden. Your food supply is short enough as it is."

Amage relaxed. Perhaps he had turned out all right after all. She nodded.

"All right. Make sure you have your food ready. Tonight we will celebrate your return. I will marry you two then."

And she turned back into her tent, leaving both Lancelot and Sera openmouthed behind her. They hadn't planned on getting married so soon!