Title: Forever More

Author: Me

Author's Note: I'm beginning to write chapter 12 keeping in mind the whole not restating thing.

Disclaimer: Don't own King Arthur but I own Kera.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 12:†Heading East†

As Arthur continued to walk around the community, an unearthly chill set in. He stopped for a moment in his tracks and the other villagers followed in his suit. Silence crept through the air for a moment. Then suddenly, the sound of drums seeped in from the mountains and wrapped everyone in its forbidding message. No one so much as blinked an eye as the steady pounding grew steadier and stronger and most likely, nearer.

"THE SAXONS ARE COMING!" one man yelled out, his eyes bulging terribly from his head as he began running around.

Chaos ensued as the man's panic was contagious. Soon, the entire population of the town was filled with scared mothers and crying children. Arthur frowned as he caught sight of a stone, windowless building that stood squashed between the Marius estate and the fields of grass beyond. Cocking his head to one side, he drew out Excalibur and made a beeline for the building. That building had been nagging at him from the very moment he neared the village and now, even when his knights began frantically lifting children into wagons or ushering people onto their horses and off down the path, he needed to find out what it was.

"Arthur, we must go!" Gawain called out.

Arthur merely responded by walking faster until he was almost at a run. Two mercenaries quickly stepped in front of the structure, blocking his way. Raising his sword evenly before him, Arthur commanded in a still voice, "Move." Eyeing each other hesitantly, the soldiers unwillingly moved aside. Something about the stonework of the building didn't seem right to him. Running his palm over the stone, Arthur noticed a line of messy caulking stretching from the ground to roughly seven feet up. Digging his nails into the caulk, it crumbled into his fingers. This was a door. Or had been a door for now stone bricks had been placed in front to seal it closed.

A trembling monk stumbled up to Arthur and placed spindly fingers upon his arm. The skin underneath his cheeks was sagging to reveal yellowed eyes. His lips were drawn tight over his teeth and his nose protruded from his face like it had been added after he was born.

"You can't go in there!" he screeched.

Arthur batted him away before demanding, "Open it."

The monk shook his head so that the greasy hairs which stuck to the sides of his head threatened to fall out.

"It's locked from inside!"

Arthur turned and motioned for Dagonet. Dagonet swung from his saddle obediently and hoisted his battle ax from its holster. Planting his feet wide apart, he took a deep breath in and swung his ax high over his head. The metal blade came crashing into the bricks. Large chunks of stone came tumbling from the opening and breaking into smaller pieces as they landed. Behind the wall of stone there was a wooden door with no obvious keyhole or handle. Taking in another breath, he ripped the ax through the wood, causing splinters to fly in every direction. The monk whimpered as a piece of wood smacked into the side of his face.

Kera watched from her perch on the saddle as Galahad handed Arthur a lit torch. She could hear shouts being exchanged as the dim light of the torch receded farther into the stone building.

"Who are these defilers of the Lord's temple!?" a shrill voice called out from the blackness of the building. "How dare you set foot in this holy place!"

She heard the sound of metal leaving its sheath right before a gurgling, suffocating noise. A body tumbled from the

mouth of the building. The monk's eyes were rolled up into his skull and a wide gaping hole now stood where his once working heart had. A small puff of white dust lifted from the crumbling stone and powdered the monk's face, his eyes clouding over. She began to dismount to help the monk and see what all the commotion was when a firm hand on her shoulder stopped her. Twisting around in her seat, she saw that Tristran riding alongside her.

"You'll hurt yourself," he said gesturing towards her ankle.

A bit startled at being addressed by a knight, she nodded. Looking at him, his hair was dark and several thin braids draped over his forehead. It was cropped at an inch or two above his shoulder. Two short black lines had been painted onto his cheek along with a crescent moon-ish shape as well. His skin was a deep tan and his near black eyes seemed to portray a sense of endless depth. Upon his left hand he wore a thick leather guard that wove around his fingers. Slung over his shoulder was an intricately decorated bow. It curved delicately to where the hand would grasp and the colors varied from an orange to black.

Blushing, Kera turned away when she realized for how long she had been 'examining' him.

"I don't believe we've met," she said sticking out a hand. "I'm Kera."

A strange look appeared on his face as he peered at her, trying to decipher if she was kidding or not. When she didn't say anything, he turned his gaze towards her hand. When she realized that here they didn't shake hands, she laughed at herself inwardly.

"Where I come from, we shake hands as a greeting," she explained, taking a hold of his hands that were surprisingly smooth and shaking them.

"Interesting," Tristran said. "I am Tristran."

Kera smiled or so Tristran thought she had. Her lips barely arched upwards but her eyes said it all. Those pale, unnaturally gray eyes.

For a change in mood, a moment later, Arthur came out of the building; in his arms he carried a young woman.

"Water!" he called out.

Someone hurriedly rushed up to him and handed him a skin of water. Tipping the opening to the woman's mouth, the water spilled forth and she greedily drank it before choking. Her eyes never left Arthur. Her frail body was covered in torn and dirty rags. Her face was pale and large black circles surrounded her gaunt eyes. Tristran spun his horse around and rode over to where they were. He gritted his teeth when he saw the same green-blue tattoos on her leg that were associated to the Woads.

"She's a Woad," he tried, but no one listened to him.

"I am a Roman Officer," Arthur said, handing the water skin back. "You are safe now."

Dagonet emerged from the musky shadows of the building carrying a young boy. The boy shivered terribly and let out a whooping cough before gagging on his throat. Wincing, he placed a sweaty palm to his neck. Dagonet's eyes softened as the boy huffed out a breath.

Marius came scrabbling over from where he had been packing, a helpless but determined look on his face. He nearly tripped over his too long robe, but righted himself.

"What are you doing!?" he yelled. "You can't do that!"

The knights all whipped out their swords and pointed them towards Marius, forming a protective circle around Arthur and Guinevere. Marius took a step back but he still would not shut his mouth.

"They are pagans!" he cried as if that would make what he did any better or acceptable.

Galahad narrowed his eyes. Taking a step forward from the ring, he angled his sword so that it barely scraped his throat. Marius swallowed.

"So are we."

Kera felt a strong wind blow against her face. The leaves that had already fallen off the now skeletal trees whipped up in a whirlwind. They danced in circles around Nonpareil for a moment, flying within inches of her face. Kera closed her eyes, enjoying the momentary bliss as the men continued to quarrel over religion a few feet away from her. The red horse lifted its head from its droopy state and tried nipping at the leaves which swished so temptingly in front of its face. Catching one golden leaf in its mouth, the horse was surprised when it dissolved into thin air. Within seconds, the multi-colored array disappeared into the air. Smacking its lips together, the mare tried to understand what had just happened.

Kera opened her eyes to find everything as it had been.

"She tempted me…" Marius was hissing to Arthur while pointing towards the frightened woman lying on the ground. "…as she will tempt you!"

The long caravan of villagers was slowly processing out of their homes and down a dirt beat path. From the corner of her eye, Kera spotted an old man near the back of the line stumble. She didn't remember ever seeing him around the village, but then again she could have been hallucinating. He didn't seem tall for he was bent over, his spine protruding from his back. In his bony arms, he tried to support two large woven baskets filled with household necessities. The weight was too much for him and he fell forward onto the ground. The people behind him made no move to help him but only looked down with pity.

Kera quickly dismounted and left Nonpareil to follow the villagers at her own will. She quickly rushed over to help the man, even the pain which shot up her leg was incredible.

"Let me help you," she offered, helping the man to his feet.

Hoisting one basket onto her hip and hooked the other with her arm. With her slight limp, she walked just about as slow as the old man did.

"Thank you young lady," the man croaked, his wide eyes grinning.

Kera adjusted the position of one basket before answering.

"Oh it's nothing," she said. "No need for thanks."

The man eyed her foot for a moment before stretching out his own thin arms.

"You're hurt," he said, "let me take the load from you."

Kera shook her head.

"It's nothing," she said. "Just a little injury. Nothing too serious."

Just then, she didn't notice the small rut that had carved itself into the ground. Stumbling, she nearly dropped the load from her hands. Feeling a powerful grip on her elbow, she turned to see the old man slowly change. She dropped the baskets and took a dithering step backwards. The man slowly fell onto his hands, his nose growing longer and his cheeks puffing out beside it. Tufts of black hair began spreading across his face and his ears began to slide along the sides of his head until they rested on the crown of his head in large triangles. His hands transformed rapidly, as his thumb moved up his arm and rested above his wrist as a dew claw. His fingers grew larger as his nails sharpened to a clawed point.

It wasn't the whole metamorphosis that surprised Kera as much as the fact that no one was noticing. Finally, when the large wolf stood before her again she couldn't help but smile.

"It's you again," she said quietly.

The wolf nodded and placed a paw against her sprained ankle. Kera stood wide-eyed, not sure whether to yank her foot away or not but chose against it. The wolf passed his paw over her ankle twice before stepping back. The fallen kitchen utensils began to disappear, their solidity slowly turning transparent until the baskets and everything that had fallen vanished, leaving not a trace of what had happened. Kera pointed her toes and circled her foot several times.

"My foot…" she whispered, marveling at how it wasn't sore or hurt anymore.

The wolf gave her a wink before spinning around and leaping off into the trees. Kera stood where she was, her eyes transfixed on the forest.

"Thank you…" she murmured.

"Wall them back up!" Arthur ordered to the dismay of several shivering and thoroughly disturbed monks.

Turning around, she saw Dagonet and the other knights shove wailing monks back into the crumbling door of the building.

"We are servants of god!" they howled as the bricks and mortar was piled back up until their cries were reduced to dull resonating inside the building.

Fulcinia quickly tended to the woman that lay on the ground. Helping her unsteadily to her feet, the two of them crawled inside the shelter of a covered wagon. Dagonet picked the boy up effortlessly and placed him inside the wagon as well. Pulling a heavy fur blanket over him, he placed a rough hand upon the boy's face before returning to his horse.

"Head out!" Arthur yelled out.

The knights mounted their horses and began riding towards the line of villagers. Tristran gave Kera a lingering smile, which she returned, before spinning his dappled horse around.

"Sir. Tristran!" she called out hastily, raising her hand.

Tristran brought his horse to a stop and twisted his upper body around in the saddle to face her.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Do you mind calling Nonpareil again?" she asked, a bit embarrassed. "I can't whistle."

Tristran laughed before bringing his fingers to his mouth. A sharp whistle emitted from his lips. Immediately, the pounding of hooves sounded from no where. Storming through the muddy grass in a billow of red, came Nonpareil. Stopping in front of Kera, she reared and snorted wildly before calming down.

"Nice show," Kera said, patting the mare's neck softly before adding to Tristran, "I really need to learn how to whistle like that."

"I'll teach you some time," he said, and reined his horse to the right and charged back towards the front of the line.

Lancelot rode up beside her.

"Your ankle seems greatly improved," he offered.

Kera's eyes turned towards the thicket of trees.

"Yeah…" she said in a soft voice.

Grabbing the reins, the sleeve of her dress fell back to her elbow to reveal her wrist. The glint of gold caught Lancelot's attention and he pointed towards the thin bracelet around her wrist.

"That's a pretty piece of work you have there," he said.

Kera lifted her arm and rotated her hand a few times, watching the way the dying sun shined perfectly off her bracelet. It was a band of pearls that had small circlets of gold in between each pearl. Her uncle Andrew had given it to her for a Christmas present. A wave of revulsion came over her and she quickly unclasped the bracelet and threw it to the ground before easily swinging herself into the saddle.

"You dropped your—," Lancelot began but Kera shook her head.

"Leave it," she said firmly.

Kneeing the chestnut mare a little behind the girth, she started off to catch up with the group. Lancelot stayed where he was for a moment, watching as her long hair flowed elegantly behind her shoulders. The way she lifted her chin to let the wind wash over her face and the way her eyes glinted with anticipation as Nonpareil carried her further up the trail made something awaken inside of him.

Shaking his head, he dismissed the notion and hurried his steed up the path as well.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Author's Note: How was that? I tried my hardest to use as little from the book as possible.