Okay. This is my first rewrite. I like it a lot better now. Some things I kept the same, but I changed a lot. I added a dream of Radha's that I have absolutely fallen in love with. Let me know if this is any better than it was.
Habren smiled. She could feel Papay's rough hands stroking her breasts, an arousing wakeup call. She sighed, opening her eyes.
Those were not Papay's hands.
The previous night came back to her, like a bad dream. She didn't want it to be real. His breath was hot on her neck, his hands finding their way to the most sensitive areas. It was impossible not to react, though Habren put up a good fight. He rolled her onto her back, driving her mad with his motions. He finally entered her, after she whimpered a bit.
He rolled out of bed, and dressed quickly. "We will be leaving soon. Be ready." He said, shortly.
Wacilla knew that they had to get moving. The women would have been missed by now; Papay no doubt would be wondering why he spent the night alone. That gave Wacilla quite a bit of satisfaction, knowing that he had had Papay's woman in his bed last night. She had been great fun. It was beautiful to watch her struggle, her surrender. He would never tire of that. He would make her scream.
Habren was lying on her back, legs still flung wide. She couldn't bring herself to move. Her mornings had never been like this. Papay was gentle in the morning, he was all whispers and caresses. She missed that. Wacilla was rough and demanding, but not overtly violent. In a way, she liked that aggression, but she wished that Wacilla had not been the one she experienced it with. She wanted to be held, she wanted to be loved. Wacilla was incapable of those things. Papay was not. Papay was different. Wacilla, she had spread her legs for. Papay, she made love to. They were very different things. With both, there was a need, a reaction. With love, there was passion, there was caring. With Wacilla, all she experienced was lust. Yes, she liked how he made her body feel, but Papay could do so much more. She loved him.
He would not want her now. Willingly sleeping with another man would not make her terribly appealing to him.
She found her dress that had been carelessly tossed aside last night on the floor, and slipped into it, remembering how Papay always insisted on helping her dress. Pulling the dress on by herself considerably cut down on the time that she spent on such endeavors. She wondered if she could get through the day without everything reminding her of how badly she wanted Papay. The chances were very slim.
Radha shook Deirdre out of her sleep.
"Wake up. They'll be moving soon." She said, shortly.
Deirdre groaned. She was tired of getting up so early! Why could they not leave her in peace? But then she heard the grunt of one of their guards. That changed things.
She turned to Radha, uncertainty clear on her features. "Will they come for us?" she whispered.
"They will." Reassured Radha, soothingly.
Radha had dreamt of battle. A very particular battle. The battle in which she and Gawain had fought for the first time...
It was a miserably hot day. It had mercifully rained the night before, thought the heat had returned in force. The grass was still slick. Radha had just finished applying her Woad paint, and was checking her weapons, making sure they were still sharp. She had been ill, unable to move. This would be her first attack for some time, and it wouldn't do for her blades to fail. She secured her hair so that it would stay out of her face, and nearly smiled. It felt good to be back in uniform again.
Sera, Guinevere, and Rebekah had gone missing. People had begun to talk about replacements. They had mentioned Radha as a possibility for Rebekah's position, but she didn't want it. Radha had no interest in strategy. She would not fill the shoes of her cousin's friend. That idiot Etain thought she had it made. Radha sighed. If it came down to Etain and herself, she would push for the position. Anyone was better than Etain. Merlin was overseeing the troops in their absence.
The knights would be patrolling today, and the Woads couldn't risk discovery. They had too many children and frail elderly to move at such short notice. They needed to buy some time. As they distracted the knights, the children and old people would slip deeper into the forest.
She ducked out of her tent, nodding to her acquaintances as they passed. A pack of children raced past her, and she smiled. Woad children always seemed to be able to amuse themselves. One couldn't help but love them.
She joined the assembled warriors. They were waiting for Merlin. Merlin didn't seem to operate on any time schedule known to man. He had some rather strange ideas, yet he had not yet led the Woads astray. They could accept his eccentricities, and never really expected an explanation. Merlin's explanations rarely made sense anyway.
Merlin had finally decided that it was time to leave. He didn't even bother speaking. He nodded to them, and they melted into the trees. They knew what they were doing, they had done this countless times before.
Radha watched them from a tree. Seven men on horseback, apparently relaxed. She had seen them before, fought them before. Arthur and his knights. Blood traitor. How he could sleep at night, Radha didn't know. The signal came, and Radha began her decent from the tree. Her blade was ready. By the Goddess, they would feel her sword today.
With a great yell, the Woads surged from the trees, running at the knights. The knights wheeled their horses around to meet the charge. The one known as Bors let out his own war cry. It was twenty against seven, though the seven were on horses, giving them the advantage.
By the time Radha arrived, ten of her fellows had been killed. These knights would be shown their place. She didn't yell as the others did. Radha had always seen that as a waste of breath. She went after the one who had been unhorsed. Blood was splattered over his armor, his face, and beard. When he saw her, he grinned, a clear invitation. Well, it would be rude to refuse... She attacked with a snarl. Radha swung her sword, going for his neck. He blocked her strike easily, and made one of his own. They circled each other, looking for weaknesses. He feinted to the right, but struck her left. She managed to block the worst of the blow, but he still managed to cut her side. Radha gritted her teeth against the pain, and angrily swung her blade, severing a braid from his head. The knight glared at her, and their fight continued. Each received the usual cuts and bruises, though they hadn't managed to kill each other yet. This was a great annoyance to Radha. Suddenly, they heard Merlin's signal from the woods. He wanted them to retreat.
This only deepened Radha's vexation. Just a bit longer and she would kill the bastard! His eyes locked with hers, and for a moment, neither attacked. But then the moment was over, and he swung his axe around again. Radha ran. She had nearly reached the shelter of the trees when she slipped and fell on the slick grass. Perhaps the rain had not been such a blessing after all. She scrambled to her feet, hearing the thudding steps of the knight behind her, getting closer and closer. She sprinted faster than she ever had in her life. She scrambled up a tree, hoping he wouldn't follow her. She wasn't yet in perfect health, she couldn't run from him forever. She looked down from between the leaves and branches, and saw him staring at her. He had his axe in hand, and Radha had seen him use it to great effect previously. She knew she was going to die. She would face her death with her eyes open. Minutes past, but he did nothing.
One of his friends called for him. He backed away slowly, finally turning and walking back to rejoin his friends.
Radha let out the breath that she had been holding in, and closed her eyes. She was very much alive. She glanced down at her body, and saw the blood. That would leave a scar...
She could only hope that her husband would come for them soon. She missed her weapons dearly.
They were riding hard. Wacilla and his bandits were about two hours ahead of them, and they had no idea where they were going. Gawain was eerily distant. They had never seen him like this. Gawain was usually the happy one, when he got angry, he reacted quickly. Gawain was beyond angry now. He was furious.
Wacilla had Habren on his horse. He had walked in on her as she was dressing, and she had actually blushed. She was a different kind of woman than he was used to. He had slipped the amulet he had found on the dead woman onto Habren's neck. He could only hope that she met a different fate than the previous owner. Habren had stared at it for a long time, inspecting the grooves that had residual dried blood. Wacilla hadn't been able to clean it off.
Now, Wacilla had to admit that Habren made the journey more interesting.
"How did you meet Papay?" asked Wacilla.
Habren said nothing, staring off into the distance.
"Are you planning on being mute for the entire journey?" he asked, and still she remained silent. "Or, perhaps you believe I will not be able to comprehend your righteous words with my vile mind."
"I have nothing to say to you." She said, more calmly than she felt.
"And why is that?"
"To be quite blunt, Wacilla, you are a fiend."
Wacilla raised an eyebrow. "A fiend? Really? And what does that make your precious Papay? We are in the same line of work, after all."
"Papay is nothing like you. He has never abducted me..." she trailed off. In truth, he had.
"Ah, so that's how you met." Wacilla smirked.
"It is not! I knew him before he abducted me! Besides, it wasn't so much an abduction, as much as it was a surprise." She huffed.
"So he's really a softy at heart, is he?" he asked.
"He is not soft."
"Then what is he?"
"He is nothing to you, but everything to me."
"Really?" he said, sliding his hand up her torso to cup a breast. "Is he still everything?"
"Yes." She said, breath catching in her throat.
"I thought so." He kissed her neck, pulling her closer. He thrived on her warmth.
The bandit who rode with Radha had been warned to behave, though no one had specified which sort of behavior was preferred. Radha was sure to set him straight. When he started running his hands up her thighs, she gave him a good hard shot to the gut.
"Do that again, and you will be killed." She hissed.
"Oh, and will you be the one to deal me the blow?" he asked, skeptically.
"If I don't, then my husband certainly will "
"Is that supposed to frighten me?" he scoffed.
"If it doesn't', then you are more a fool them I first assumed."
He sniggered, but didn't try to touch her again. There was definitely something chilling about her promising tone.
Deirdre did not have to resort to violence. The bandit she was riding with had been one of the bandits present when Habren had made her pact with Wacilla. He knew what behavior was expected.
Papay rode in silence. He didn't want to speak with anyone. It was far too painful. He studied the dagger that he had found, and sighed. He had hoped to avoid this confrontation. Now, his blood boiled for it. He wanted to see Wacilla bleed. He hadn't felt that for a long time. A very long time. He and this dagger had once been friends. Wacilla and this dagger wee one. Now, they were his enemies. Papay often wondered why everything had happened as it had. He knew what he had to do.
Lancelot studied Papay's back. What did his sister see in him? What drew her to him? His sister was no fool, yet she had chosen a criminal for her lover. Well, had he not chosen a Woad to share his bed? Was it really any different? Sera had been his enemy for fifteen years. Now, they were married. That was a right kick in the pants. (Or trousers, whichever term you prefer.) He nudged his horse next to Papay's though he didn't speak for some time.
"Do you love her?" asked Lancelot suddenly.
Papay glanced over at him, a bit startled by the question. "Yes." He said simply.
Lancelot nodded. "Good."
They rode in silence after that, not knowing what to say to one another.
Afsati had eyed the women with interest, until their Sarmatian (or Saxon) lovers had made their appearance. Not that it really mattered. If Papay was any indication, Women brought nothing but trouble. Habren was a nice enough woman, but why be anything more than friends? Situations like this always reminded Afsati of the risks that love brought. He didn't like the odds.
Wacilla and his bandits had stopped for the night. Wacilla's hands slid down her back, coming to rest at her hips.
"Go to my tent. I will be along shortly, I have something to attend to first." He said, and dismissively kissed her forehead.
He strode away to make sure the other prisoners were being treated with "pleasantness." When he arrived in the prisoners' tent, he found the pregnant one asleep on the others shoulder. The conscious woman glared at him, but made no comment at his presence. He sent the guards a look, though they did not appear to have been up to anything. Then he left, knowing that his men feared him enough to obey.
He was pleased to find Habren already undressed on his bed. She didn't look at him though. When he approached, she spread her legs in invitation. He looked questioningly at her, wondering why she hadn't spoken yet.
"Just get it over with." She whispered.
The words infuriated him. She had enjoyed it last night. She had enjoyed it this morning. She had enjoyed the ride, with all of the various activities. Now, she was simply lying to herself. He would show her how wrong she was. He would show her how much she wanted him.
He kept his clothes on, and lay on top of her, her legs wrapping around his waist. He took most of his weight on his arms, placed on either side of her body. He would pleasure her, but not take her. She would scream for him then. He would not give her what she wished for.
"Habren." He said softly over her whimpers, "Papay is not half the man I am. He could never affect you as I do, and you know it."
"No." she gasped.
His anger deepened. He claimed her mouth for the first time. Her filthy lied were quiet for the moment.
Papay could see the flicker of fires just below them. They had set up camp on a hill, overlooking the bandit tents. They would attack after dark. He wanted to attack now, but knew that the wait was necessary. The bandits expected an attack now. They would attack when most of them were asleep.
He knew what Wacilla was doing to Habren. He knew. It was all his fault. She would never forgive him. He fingered the dagger again, undecided as to whether this was the correct weapon to end Wacilla's life with. This dagger had so much meaning hidden under invisible layers of blood. It was not always so tainted.
Gawain was sharpening his weapons, remembering his wedding night. Radha had been sharpening her weapons then. Now, it was his turn. He tied her weapons to his back as well. She would be missing them.
Sera was worried. Lancelot was distracted, and when distracted he wasn't always as careful as he should be. They had only been married two weeks, and she was not willing to risk being made a widow so soon. She marched up to the pacing Lancelot, and tugged his lips down to hers. He needed to focus on something else.
Lancelot tugged his lips away and stared at her. What was she doing? Sera tugged her tunic over her head, and placed his hands on her flesh.
"There is no use worrying. What will happen tonight will happen. IT doesn't matter how many hours you spend pacing over it."
He sank onto the cot, head in hands. "I'm scared for her. I'm scared for all of them." He said softly.
She knelt in front of him, sliding her hands up his legs. She framed his face with her hands, forcing him to look at her.
"So am I. We all are." She kissed him gently, "We will get them back."
He nodded, pulling her onto the cot. He held her close, looking for reassurance. Sera stroked his hair, his cheek. Lancelot wanted to escape reality. HE pulled his wife even closer, and kissed her, closing his eyes.
They would worry together.
Rebekah was currently working on planning the attack with Afsati. The man had good instincts, and he knew bandits better than she did.
"How many sentries will they have?" asked Rebekah.
Afsati shrugged. " 'bout three of four...After we take them out, we shouldn't have much of a problem...except for Wacilla. He's unpredictable. You'll want to watch that one." He shivered.
"That bad, eh?" asked Rebekah, smirking a bit.
"Worse." Responded Afsati.
"How do you suggest we take care of the sentries?" she asked.
Afsati studied her, wondering how receptive she would be to his idea. "Well, I'm not sure I could do it, but a pretty young thing like you..." he said slowly, eyes skimming the length of her body.
"Now, my dear Afsati, don't toy with my maiden's heart. Tell me. Spare no dirty details." She instructed. And so he did.
He made a suggestion that she originally rejected, but thought twice about. It might be a bit more effective; there was less of a chance for error. It was better than arrows, because there was always a chance that the arrows would find something other than their target. They had no wish for any of the hostages to die. All that was required was a little help from her friends...
Lancelot, Tristan, and Sebbi did not like this plan. The Woad women in their battle gear were for their eyes (and hands) only.
They were overruled, however. The women wanted their friends back, and the men were forced to admit that the plan would probably be most effective.
As they sashayed into the dark, Afsati was force to admit that women, while dangerous, came in handy quite often. He couldn't pull off an outfit like that. Or the walk, for that matter. He sighed. This was no time to become distracted by feminine flesh. Habren and her friends were in danger. He would face the men that he used to ride with. They would not be pleased to see him.
Review, or I'll bite you...maybe...just kidding...