Author's note: I did some reading on Kali, and I'm sure I didn't get it exactly right. No harm or disrespect is ever meant. I really got the idea to use her image from Indiana Jones. smirk Enjoy.
Three.
I stood outside, watching my breath mist as Arthur and the brothers spoke in the stuffy, cramped room we had eaten in.
I crossed my arms, and wondered for the umpteenth time about the statue, and it's connection to the things that had attacked us twice in as many weeks.
How I was sure of the connection, well, that remained as big a mystery.
I was brought out of my contemplation by a muffled giggle.
Turning my head nonchalantly, I saw two young village girls, not much older than 14. Just the right age to be charmed.
"Ladies," I said, tilting my head in my best imitation of the bows I had seen Arthur do in front of Roman guests. They giggled again, but didn't run. That was a good sign.
I moved closer, swaggering a bit, and they blushed. I grinned and stopped in front of them, picking up both their hands, pressing a light kiss to the tops. I thought they would both faint from the shock of the act.
"I thank you and your village for your hospitality," I said, smiling broadly. "'tis not often a simple knight is allowed such courtesy."
They laughed again, the dark haired one putting a hand to her mouth, but the blond, who seemed to be more forward, spoke.
"Sir knight, we are honored by your presence," she said, and her friend elbowed her, as if shocked she would dare to speak to one such as myself.
I cocked an eyebrow, and tried to look surprised. "Truly? I am humbled by your comments, lady…?"
"Anne, my lord, and this is Medea," she answered, and dropped a pretty curtsey.
"Medea? Like the famous Greek wife of Jason?" I said, and they both dimpled. "Yes!" Medea answered, before shyness got the better of her, and she covered her mouth again.
Ah, perfect. They would probably answer any question I had now.
"An auspicious name, lady. You wear it well," I complimented, and again her face turned beet red. I took the opportunity to step closer to them, as if I would tell them a secret. They both leaned forward, unconciously.
"Listen, ladies, I have seen something in your village that I am curious about," I started, smiling as much as possible. No fear, here.
"Oh?" Anne asked, intrigued herself.
"A small statue, about the height of a hare," I said, holding my hands apart. "Of a goddess unknown to me. She has many arms, and a frightful necklace. Do you know of what I speak?"
At the mention of the many arms, both girls' faces shuttered, and Anne frowned. I knew they knew what I was talking about.
"Ignore that, my lord," she answered at last. "It belongs to a local madman. He refuses to put it away, no matter how many times he is told to get rid of the horrid thing."
"So it is not Druidic?" I asked. The girls laughed.
"Oh, no, sir," Medea spoke up finally. "It is from the far East."
"The East?" I said, surprised. I had never seen any of it's like in Sarmatia…although, those memories were so long ago, I could have forgotten.
"Yes, lord," Anne answered. "That man has been in the village so long, no one knows where he truly comes from. He speaks our language, as well as many other tounges none of us understand. That deity," and here she shuddered, "is horrible. We try not to pay attention to it."
I nodded in agreeance. I could see how it would be horrible to young children. To me, it was fast losing its scariness, and quickly gaining in intrigue. It wasn't often I was bested in a fight; it was even less often I was knocked unconscious – twice. I was determined to figure out what the hell was going on.
"A smart action, to be sure," I soothed, then straightened. Arthur had exited the small inn, and was looking about, apparently for me.
"I must take my leave, ladies," I said graciously, "but I thank you for your time, and your honesty."
They both dropped small curtsies again, and smiled at me. I bowed low, and turned to go.
"Wait!" the one called Anne said after me. I turned, and put my hand over my heart, one corner of my mouth rising.
"Yes, my lady?" She smiled at the term, and stopped in front of me.
"Your name, kind sir?"
"Lancelot," I said, "and a pleasure to have spoken with such a kind and beautiful woman."
She cocked her eyebrow in answer, and I barked a laugh. This one had me pegged.
"Good night, Lancelot," she said, and was gone in a flash of skirts and laughter.
I shook my head, and thought on what they had said.
The far East. And it was definitely a goddess. They hadn't denied that.
"Lancelot."
"Aye, commander?" I answered distractedly.
"You keep picking them younger and younger, hm?"
I laughed, and met his green gaze. "No, no. I was just getting some questions answered. Can I help it if all ladies find me irrestible, no matter their age?"
He rolled his eyes, and clapped me on the shoulder.
"Did you learn anything of interest?" he asked. I considered answering, but bit my tounge. I was going to make a little trip of my own this evening…without Arthur, if I could help it.
"Perhaps," I answered hesitantly. I disliked not keeping him in the know, but this was my personal battle, and I was determined not to drag him into anything that would put him further into harm's way.
"The brothers were not much more forthcoming," he admitted, dropping his hand away from my shoulder. I surpressed a small shiver at the loss of it's warmth.
I was rapidly becoming…addicted to him, and it was disconcerting at best. I wasn't sure if he felt it, as well. I knew I would have to talk to him about it, and soon. I wasn't one to shy away from relationships, or any kind of closeness I could get.
But Arthur was, well, Arthur. I would sooner die than hurt him, physically or mentally. He was my closest friend, and basically the reason I got up each morning to fight a battle that wasn't mine to begin with.
And the thing that bothered me most of all was – how much would it hurt to hear him say he didn't feel the same? And how important was it to me that he did? Was I just after some closeness in our harsh lives? Had it been too long between women? I didn't think so.
I gazed at him again while he wasn't looking, and tried to understand just what it was about the man that drew me in.
And I realized that it wasn't one thing. It was the whole thing. The whole package. He was a good knight, a great leader, a cunning strategist, a loyal friend.
But he was also Arthur Castus underneath all those trappings of manhood and career. Just plain Arthur, my friend, who liked to read, who knew all sorts of myths and legends, who hated cabbage, who had a huge scar across his stomach thanks to yours truly, and who had an annoying yet endearing way of worming his way into your soul until you could no more lie to him than to yourself.
He made being himself what made you love him in the first place. Realizing this made me smile, and he looked at me.
"What?" he said softly, tilting his head.
"…I'll tell you later," I said, and sighed.
What have you gone and done now, you great lummox? And just how much of this love is present due to circumstance? Or do you truly feel it?
"You've been saying that quite a bit, lately," he said, concern evident in his voice. He started walking again, slightly agitated.
"Lancelot," he added, "have I offended you in some way? I know we had a – difference of opinion over the last mission," he said, and I was quick to shake my head.
"No, Arthur, no. I am hot tempered, you know that. All is forgiven," I was fast to reassure him. "…there are some things I'm trying to work out. That's all."
He looked at me, and I had to look away suddenly. His eyes had a very easy time of dragging confessions out of me in the best of situations; this was most assuredly not one of them.
He shrugged, giving in.
A huge yawn split his face, and I followed suit.
"I'm going to check on the horses, then get as much rest as I can before tomorrow," he stated. I nodded. "I'll see you shortly, then."
He turned about, and made his way toward the stables.
I shook my head in wonderment at my wreched timing. I would speak to him, I would.
Just maybe not tonight. Perhaps back at the wall.
The deity was still in her place when I arrived in the town square. In the dark, she looked even more foreboding. I was crouched down by her face, examing the necklace of skulls, when a foul stench and the sound of an opening door made me squint my eyes and look up.
I met the gaze of the oldest human being I had ever seen, and stood, unsure if I were to touch him, he would not break into a thousand pieces.
"Kali," he said, and I drew my brows together in a frown, not sure what language he was speaking.
"…which is?" I said, my hand resting on the hilt of the short sword I wore at my waist.
"Her name," he said, gesturing to the statue. "She is an incarnation of the mother goddess, who saved all the holy ones from two demons when the world was very young."
"Indeed," I answered, "then why is she wearing the heads of men around her neck? That to me says dangerous woman, not beauteous deity."
He spat, and poked two forked fingers at me. "Do not disparage the goddess so, foreigner. You Sarmatians worship your own bloody gods and goddesses, so don't speak to me of danger."
How did he know…
"How did you know where I was from?" I said, my voice taking on a timbre of threat.
He pointed at my lion pendant, which had fallen out of my shirt. "Never seen anything like that out here in the West," he said, and I quickly tucked it back in. "Besides, everyone around these parts knows Artorius Castus commands Sarmatians."
"Are you a mage?" I asked suddenly, and he laughed, a rusty sound that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up, and my grip on my sword get tighter.
"Some would say so," he replied, tugging on his long beard, "but I would say I'm just a simple man, trying to live to the end of his days with no incidents. You Sarmatians and that damn Roman cause enough trouble here. It's about time the 'Empire' got out of this country. I only do what I can to further that ideal."
I growled slightly at his calling Arthur 'damn Roman,' but kept my anger in check.
"What do you mean, you further the ideal? Are you setting warriors upon us?" If this man had any idea as to what was going on with the strange attacks, I would have the answer from him.
I pressed him up against the wall, my short sword drawn, my face inches from his. He laughed again, and I squinched my face, his breath strong enough to fell an ox.
"Me? Setting warriors upon such strong fellows such as yourselves? Never." I moved away, and he dropped back down to his stooped position.
"Just be careful, young Sarmatian, about where your loyalties lie. The Empire's strength is fading…and soon you may have no allies left. You never know who you may meet in the dark someday."
I pulled back my lips, my teeth showing in a feral rage, but as I raised my blade to make short work of his life, a strange sensation pulled at my legs, and the fog rose about me quickly.
I jumped away from the door to his hovel, and pulled one of my other swords out of it's sheath on my spine.
All I heard was the old man's mocking laugh, swirling away with the mist as it slowly faded.
"Bloody hell," I said, again picking up expressions I had heard Arthur use. "What by all that's holy is going on?"
I waited until the weird fog had completely disappeared, and looked again at the statue.
Except it was gone.
Arthur was pacing the small room when I returned, slightly shaken, and extremely angry at myself for being taken the fool.
"Where did you go?" he said in a voice tight with rage and worry. I turned my back on him, and began to unstrap my various weaponry and armor pieces.
"On a personal errand," I said, and sat, pulling off my boots. At last I was free of the cumbersome outer shells of my profession, and sighed, stretching luxuriously. Arthur was tense and unhappy; but for the moment, all I cared about was my wounded pride, and how the old man had gotten past me.
"How could you have a personal errand in a town we've never stopped in before?" he said through his teeth.
I shrugged. "That's why it's personal," I answered cheekily, and lay down on the bed.
He stood there, clenching and unclenching his fists. At last he sighed as well, and sat in the one chair in the room.
"Lancelot…with all the strange things happening, I don't like it when you disappear in unfamiliar territory without telling me where you are going," he said tiredly. "I came with you purposefully to help find out what's going on, not to hinder. I wish you'd let me."
"Arthur," I said, my hackles suddenly up, "I'm a grown man. I didn't need you to come along on this trip, in fact, I think I told you straight out that I would prefer it if you actually took some time off. You just don't like my 'disappearing' because it means I'm out of your control."
I tried to bite off the last sentence, but the words came out. I winced inwardly as soon as I said them, and ached at the look on his face.
"I realize that, Lancelot," he said after a pause, during which I wasn't sure whether he would just leave without answering, or try and hit me.
"Aside from being your commander, I'm also your friend," he added, his words sounding stilted and strange. Their tone made me feel even worse. It was not like Arthur to give in so quickly.
"I know," I replied quietly, and sat up, moving to the edge of the bed so I could look into his face.
"But, Arthur, not everything we do is your responsibility. You cannot take the weight of every action, of every footstep I take just because you feel you need to watch out for men under your care," I said gently, wrapping my hand around his wrist. I turned it over, and drew a finger down the middle of his palm slowly.
"You do a huge number of things with these," I mused, still holding onto his hand. "And yet you cannot protect me or the others one hundred percent of the time. I thank the gods that you came into my life, because I know with certainty that if any other man had been my commander, I would be just another grave at the Badon Hill cememtary by now. I know it in my heart, Arthur. It is because of you I have lived as long as I have. And it is because of you, and your influence on me, that I shall live as long as fate decrees that I should. No matter if you are there to watch over me every step of the way or not. Your good heart and soul will always be with me, even if we are not physically together. Do you understand, my friend?"
Arthur just stared at me. I didn't think we'd had a conversation this long without arguing in months, if not years.
"Well, don't just gape at me, fool, say something," I muttered at last, embarassed at my outburst. I wasn't one for flowery speeches normally; I thought perhaps I had destroyed his logic center with my words.
He suddenly leant forward until his forehead met mine. The world shrank to nothing but his long dark lashes, and the grey green of his eyes.
"You constantly surprise me," he whispered at last, his breath hot on my cheek.
"I live to amaze," I answered, just as breathlessly.
He shut his eyes briefly, and I grinned.
His hand still clasped in mine, I decided to take a chance, and follow my heart, if only for once.
I brushed my lips softly across his, and pulled back quickly, not wanting to scare him.
I didn't honestly know what I would do if he rejected me…but I was strong. I would figure something out.
He sighed out a word that sounded like my name, and nuzzled his cheek across mine. Not the reaction I was expecting, but one that made my entire body suddenly as taut as a bow string.
"You .. don't have to do this," I murmured, gasping slightly as his hand sunk into my hair, playing with the curls at the nape of my neck.
"Shut up, Lancelot," he said, and pulled back, looking me in the eye. "Just this time, do what I say."
"Yes, commander," I answered, and he tore a groan from my lips with the touch of his, extremely tentative, and yet just like him.
I did as he asked, and kept my words to myself, only opening my lips once to laugh as he tried unsucessfully to get my belt off.
"Let me," I whispered, pushing his overeager hands away.
The rest of the night was spent mostly quietly, my mouth marking his shoulder several times in order to muffle the sound of my shouts.
We lay together, limbs atangle and my arm stuck somewhere beneath his head. I didn't mind.
It was not what I had expected, but still just what I had wanted.
It wasn't really about passion either, although there was plenty of that from both of us.
It was more comfort, more loyalty, more connection than anything.
It was an extension of us.
I knew when the sun broke through the morning mist, he might feel different; hell, even I might feel different.
But for the moment, I was content to listen to his soft breathing, and to feel the heat of his skin on my own.
"Let me take care of you," I murmured to him, knowing he wouldn't hear me. Because you'd never let me during waking hours.
"Arthur," I sighed, and watched as he slept on.
end part three.