Not many reviews, but I suppose I can forgive you. Something's screwy with the website. My "Hairclub for Men" isn't always accessible through the Van Helsing page anymore, so I haven't gotten any reviews from that. I hate when we have these glitches! It's very hindering. Oh, well...I digress. Please review if you can! This is a rather short update, as I have no time, for reasons unknown to me.

Agh! And now it says that no one has reviewed since chapter 12, which they clearly have! What's going on. Well, I'll thank the people who reviewed. Camreyn, MonDieu666, HGandRHrforever, Camlann, and When Fire Meets Ice. I think that was everyone, but I could be wrong. It I am, I am so terribly sorry! Everyone else, I miss you! My heart pines for you! (JK, maybe!)

Wacilla wiped his beloved dagger on the unfortunate fellow's tunic, and sighed. Why did it always happen this way? Just when they were about to do something big, they had to interrupt his nap. The man probably was trying to kill him anyway. He was now staring up at the ceiling of Wacilla's tent, mouth open in shock. He would never see home again. It wasn't that he felt bad about it. Far from it. He needed to keep his skills, and his blade sharp. No, it was more the interruption. Wacilla had had some of his most brilliant plans fully form in his mind as he slept. No one seemed to understand that.

He went to the basin in the corner of his tent, and carefully wiped the blood from his hands and face. The blood had been warm, fresh, invigorating. He would go find out what had caused the disruption. Setting the bloodied towel aside, he calmly exited his dwelling.

All of his men had gone into their tents, hiding from him. They thought they were clever. They were not. This just made Wacilla more upset. It did not show, though. If anything, Wacilla looked even calmer than he was before.

"Come out, my doves." He said, in a falsely soothing voice. "Why did you send the messenger?"

Slowly, the men crept out of their tents, not wanting to be the first one out in the open. Wacilla was most frightening when he used his sugarcoated voice.

"Why did he come to me?" he asked, softly.

The sacrificial lamb was thrust forward, much to his terror.

"Speak." He commanded.

The man gulped rather obviously, though it would be suicide not to obey a direct order from his master. "Sh...She's...gone." He stuttered.

"Gone." Wacilla repeated, his face a mask of polite interest. "And when did this occur?"

"Nearly an...hour ago." Said the same man, even more nervous now.

Wacilla nodded slowly. "Pack your things. If you are not ready in five minutes, I'll gut you and leave you for the crows." He said, and turned on his heal, back to his tent. It would not take long to pack.

Everyone seemed to be more protective of Deirdre on this trip. They kept an eye on her as she rode, and would not allow her to help set up camp, or cook. They kept offering to run her errands, until she finally resorted to hitting them all. It was enough to drive one mad! She insisted on helping Galahad set up their tent, and scowled at him when he looked ready to protest.

"I'm pregnant, not maimed." She hissed.

Gawain was having second thoughts about fatherhood if it would mean Radha hissing at him like that. Well, he could always avoid being like Galahad. It wasn't all that difficult for him. Radha had been sad when she found out that she was not indeed pregnant, but they were trying very hard now, which seemed to raise her spirits. It had certainly raised his...

Rebekah was confusing herself. She had never really thought about children. She had always assumed that she would live a life of constant battle, never settling down. Yet, here she was, on foreign soil, soon to be married. Life does not always go as planned. She had never even given much thought to a husband. It simply wasn't a goal. It was time for new priorities, new pastimes. When they returned to Britain, she would still be considered one of the Ladies of Battle, but now it was more of a ceremonial title, they did not have an enemy to fight. Did she want to spend the rest of her days tucked away in a quaint little cottage, running after the little ones? Did it have to be that way? Perhaps they would live near the Wall, close to the King and Queen. Oh, how odd those titles sounded! So alien, so unnatural. Yet, these were her friends.

When they had settled in for the night, Rebekah lay awake, thinking to herself.

"Do you want children, Tristan?" she asked, knowing he was still awake. He never fell asleep before she did, something simply wouldn't allow him to.

Tristan was silent for some time, trying to find the proper thoughts, the proper words. "Someday, I would want them. Right now, we are still adjusting. Later." He said, and pulled her close, feeling her warm flesh mold onto his. In reality, he was terrified of children. Tristan liked to know what he was doing, and he was forced to admit to himself that he knew absolutely nothing about children. He would no longer be able to berate Bors for his performance as caretaker. That would seriously undermine his list of hobbies. He brushed the hair out of Rebekah's face, and kissed her brow. She was asleep already, and would never know.

Habren was restless. She knew Papay was there, just out of sight, and she itched to run to him. She couldn't sleep. She settled for pacing around her tent, and finally decided she couldn't take it any longer. She would go. Checking the area carefully, she slipped out of the campsite, into the dark. She ran, though she knew it was dangerous. In the dark, you couldn't see changes in ground level, you couldn't see things that would make you trip. Somehow, she made it without breaking any bones, and ran into Papay's tent. His sword was at her throat in an instant, before he realized who it was. Her eyes looked a bit stunned in the candlelight, but then he lowered the sword, and she relaxed.

He didn't ask why she was there, didn't ask if she knew what would happen if she was found to be missing. He knew the answers to both. He pulled her to him, knowing that was what she wanted. She hadn't been the only one pacing. Papay knew there were other threats than their relationship being discovered to fear. There were other Bandits out there, and he didn't know how much help he would be if they decided to attack Habren's group. He had three men behind him. It was not exactly an intimidating number. Sarmatia was a dangerous place at the moment, he wanted her safe.

He comforted silently, hands stroking, lips caressing. She needed sleep, but she needed a sedative first. He remembered her reaction to him slipping her herbs before, and had no intention of repeating the experience. Instead, he went for more...natural remedies. This time, neither had to suffer payback. He blew out the candle, and all went dark.

Lancelot had decided that he was simply going to close his eyes and ears whenever he felt something amiss with Habren. It was none of his business. It was none of his business. He kept repeating this over and over in his head. His mother wanted grandchildren. Sera was looking wistful whenever she saw Deirdre. Yes, he would have other things to worry about soon enough. Other things to worry about...It would almost be a blessing.

Sera was utterly relaxed. She felt like things were going just as she wanted them to go. After going to Tristan's village, they would be returning to the beautiful country of mist and fog. She would resume her post as leader of the healers, with hopefully fewer patients. Now that their perpetual war seemed to be over, she might not get as many people run through with swords. Those ones were always nasty. She did wonder, though, what they were going to do with Habren. She was a lovely woman, they had had some really nice conversations about healing, but she was so...remote. She had a more distant look in her eyes than anyone Sera had ever seen. Habren didn't appear to want to be were she was. Ever. That was an emotion that Sera had never felt before, and she had no idea how to help her sister-in-law.

For Sebbi, the question of children was a complex one. He had terrible memories of what happened to his last child, and would probably be far too overprotective of another. Yet, he did want a child with Aine very much. She would simply have to bear with his constant hovering. He would not want to leave her for an instant, he knew that. He was worried enough as it was about her already. So, yes he wanted children, but he would probably be experiencing as many mood swings as Aine.

Aine for her part had no real opinion. She didn't know what she wanted to do with her life yet. After being a creature of war for so long, it would take some getting used to before she embarked on any other sort of "life journey" if you wished to call it that.

Thoughts of children could be no further from Wacilla's mind. No, at the moment, the creature that commanded his thoughts was a fully-grown woman, one whom he had never seen. His mood was slightly spoiled, since no one had been terribly slow packing up. Some had actually left most of their possessions behind, not wanting to warrant an appointment with Wacilla's dagger. Oh, well. There was always tomorrow.

Wacilla had never felt warmth before. No matter how many women he had been with, there was no warmth. He had grown to accept that over the years, but now he was obsessed by the idea. It would not let him be. He did not sleep much, keeping watch over the two campsites of the travelers and Papay's bandits. They were on the look out for suspicious activity, and Wacilla decided that he would attack when they least expected it. He would play with them first.

He saw a female figure run into Papay's tent, saw the flicker of their melded bodies against the walls of the tent. Then, the candle was blown out, and he could see no more. So, that was Papay's whore. He couldn't see her very well in the dark, but he had no doubt that it was she. So, she had been missing her lover. That was very sweet...to anyone else but Wacilla. To him, it indicated weakness. None of his spies had been able to tell him what Habren felt for Papay, and now he could see with his own eyes the affect they had on one another. It would be...interesting...to see how quickly he could make her forget about him.

Review please! Tell me if Wacilla is a bit too over the top. I kind of like him in a sick and twisted way, but whatever...