Galahad hurried towards the tavern where he knew he would find his fellow knights. Vanora was serving breakfast, and looked up when she saw Galahad coming in. He answered her questioning look with a nod. "I found the girl," he said while sitting down at the table next to Bors.
All faces turned in expectation towards him. "Well?" Gawain urged.
"It was Rowan then?" Vanora asked.
Galahad nodded again. "Yes, you were right."
"Who's Rowan?" Bors asked while biting a piece off of his bread.
"More importantly, did she know anything?" Gawain interfered.
"If you'd let me speak, you'd know already!" Galahad said annoyed. He grabbed a piece of bread before he continued.
"Rowan is the new girl working at the dressmakers. Long wavy brown hair. An eye catcher," Galahad said appreciative. He pointed to the bowl with honey, which Dagonet passed to him.
"And…?"
Galahad glared at the bald man sitting next to him but ignored him further. "She was indeed going to meet Lancelot in the alcove, but she heard screaming and didn't dare to go into the passage. She waited outside hoping that Lancelot hadn't arrived yet. But he obviously already had, so she never saw him. She left when she heard the commotion in the main hall."
"Did she see anyone else?" Dagonet asked the question on everyone's lips.
Galahad nodded. "She said a man came through the passage after she'd been waiting there for some time. She didn't know who it was. In fact, she doesn't know anyone in the fort yet. The only thing she could say about the man is that he is taller than me, and he wore a red cloak."
Mouths all around the table dropped open in surprise. "A Roman?" Gawain's voice was laced with anger.
"Galahad. Why didn't this girl tell anyone?" Dagonet asked.
Galahad shrugged. "I think she didn't know who to tell. She'd only been here for two days when Lancelot was attacked. She was scared of me at first when I talked with her. I think our reputation of fearsome knights had preceded us," Galahad grinned. Laughter erupted around the table.
"And leave it to our Lance to know everything that is going on and woo her before anyone else even knew of her existence!" Bors added.
"Someone has to tell Arthur."
Silence descended over the table at Gawain's words.
–– 8 ––
Arthur heard the footsteps echoing through the hallway that stopped before Lancelot's door. It seemed that the person on the other side had paused. Watching the door, Arthur's hand went to the hilt of the small dagger at his side. He stood swiftly and rounded the table he had been sitting at.
Then the door swung open and Galahad entered. For a moment the young knight stared at his commander.
"Don't do that!" Arthur dropped his hand from his side.
Galahad looked at him bewildered. "Do what?"
"Never mind." Arthur rubbed his neck to calm down a bit.
"Is everything alright?" Galahad immediately looked over to the bed, where Lancelot seemed to be peacefully asleep.
Arthur moved near the bed. Looking down at Lancelot, he answered uneasily. "He hasn't awoken once since we brought him here, and it's past midday already." With a heavy sigh and heavy heart he sat down on the chair that was positioned next to the bed on Lancelot's left side.
Galahad stood at the end of the bed. "The healer did say to be patient, didn't he?" he said trying to sound reassuring.
"Yes…" Arthur answered, doubt obvious in his voice.
Galahad kept his eyes trained on Lancelot. "Arthur, can you leave him alone here for awhile?"
Arthur's green eyes shot up to look at Galahad. "Why?"
"The others are waiting in the main hall. There are some things that we found out, that you should know. And you won't like it."
Arthur didn't miss the urgency behind the statement, but his unease over leaving Lancelot preceded. "We'll have to get someone first to stay with Lancelot! Vanora, maybe?"
"Bring them in here."
The weak voice that came from the bed startled both other men.
"Lancelot!" Galahad stood transfixed, not sure how much the pale knight might have heard.
Arthur sat down on the bed. "It's good to see you awake again. How do you feel?" Arthur placed his hand gently on Lancelot's arm.
Lancelot ignored Arthur's question. "If you know anything about who assaulted me, then I want to know too." He studied Galahad with dark eyes.
"I don't think that's a good idea, Lancelot."
Lancelot turned his attention to Arthur. He tried to ignore the pain that shot through his head while he moved it slightly to look at his commander. It didn't escape Arthur when he winced in agony.
"I think I have a right to know. It's my life that was almost taken." Lancelot tried to answer forcefully, but he couldn't muster up the strength. Already he could feel how his whole body was shaking with exhaustion.
"You need to rest! Please, Lancelot…" Arthur softened his voice, knowing that arguing with his second in command wouldn't help the situation. "We don't want to loose you now." Suddenly he became aware of the tremors coursing through the arm beneath his hand. "By God, you're trembling like a newborn deer!"
"So your answer is no?" Sweat was starting to pearl on Lancelot's face, the dark circles around his eyes seeming to darken further.
"Yes, my answer is no." Arthur stated, surprised how soon Lancelot had given in.
"Fine, I'll come to the main hall then." Before Arthur could react, Lancelot pushed himself upright.
Arthur was in time though to catch his knight before he could fall from the bed as he swayed and passed out nearly immediately.
"Damn you and your stubbornness!" Arthur muttered under his breath.
Lancelot had collapsed against Arthur in an awkward position and the Roman gratefully accepted Galahad's help in lifting the limp body back on to the bed.
"Shall I get the healer?" Galahad asked while helping Arthur to pull the warm fur blankets back over Lancelot's still body.
Arthur nodded tiredly. "And Galahad, would you also gather the others and bring them here?"
Galahad looked at Arthur stunned.
"I don't want to risk Lancelot waking up and attempting to follow us while we're in the main hall," Arthur explained. "Go now!"
–– 8 ––
Unusually quietly the knights entered Lancelot's room one by one. Galahad had described in vivid detail what had occurred only shortly before, leaving all of them apprehensive of what to expect.
Arthur remained sitting next to the bed, while the other men found a place to sit or stand. Galahad and Gawain sat down on Arthur's makeshift bed, while Bors brought the chair that had been standing behind the small table closer to the bed. Dagonet stood leaning against the door, while Tristan was standing at the end of the bed close to Arthur. The room was overcrowded with all of them in it.
Without speaking, Tristan handed Arthur a folded red cloak, like all Roman soldiers in the fort were wearing.
A frown creased Arthur's face, while looking at the item he was holding in his hand. "Explain," he ordered Tristan while looking up at him.
"Take a closer look," was all the explanation that Tristan offered.
Unfolding the cloak, Arthur could feel how something was keeping parts of the cloak together, although it took only little strength to separate them. It hit Arthur immediately what the sticky stuff might be. "Blood." Lancelot's blood. "Dear God." In the darkened room the long streaks of blood on the red fabric were almost inconspicuous. Arthur took a moment to take in the implications of the find.
"Where did you find it?" Arthur looked questioningly at Tristan.
Tristan nodded at Galahad, who repeated to Arthur the story of his meeting with Rowan as he had told his fellow knights earlier that day. Arthur listened intently.
When Galahad had finished, Tristan took over again. "The best way to hide something is to leave it out in the open for everyone to see, without turning attention to it. So I asked myself where a Roman cloak would go unnoticed, and would also be left untouched for quite awhile."
A pensive Arthur nodded briefly. "And you found it…"
"Yes. In the supply warehouse. It was on the bottom of a stack of cloaks. It might have gone unnoticed for months."
"Well done." Arthur's face remained dark.
A movement from the bed brought his attention immediately to the wounded Sarmatian. Lancelot's eyes were open. "A Roman then?" His voice sounded weak but firm.
All eyes turned to Lancelot as he spoke.
It took Arthur a moment to recover. "How much did you hear?"
"Enough."
Arthur closed his eyes for a second to calm his thoughts. He didn't want Lancelot upset, but he didn't know what would accomplish that best – refusing to share any information with him, or share all with him. Either way Lancelot would end up distressed. "How are you feeling?" he asked trying to stall.
"I'll live," Lancelot answered tersely.
Before Arthur could reply, Gawain did. "Lancelot?" He waited until he knew he had the knight's attention. "We've all been very worried about you the past couple of days…" He didn't have to say more to convey to Lancelot what he meant. Lancelot would have been just as protective of any of the others had they been in his situation.
"Sorry…" It was like a mask had fallen from Lancelot's face, and the fatigue and pain were suddenly plain to see for the others.
"Don't worry about it." Arthur placed his hand reassuringly on Lancelot's arm. "Now, truthfully, how do you feel?"
Lancelot considered that before he answered. "In pain, drained, sick. That's about it." For a brief moment, the familiar smirk returned to his face. It fell again quickly, leaving him looking pale and drawn. "Thirsty..."
"Do you want some more broth? It's cold, but it's wet…" Arthur propositioned.
"Please."
With Gawain's help, Arthur sat Lancelot up slightly and held the cup to his lips while the Sarmatian drank slowly. When they laid him back down, it was obvious to Arthur that Lancelot was glad not to be sitting up anymore. For a moment he expected Lancelot to drift off to sleep once more as his eyes slipped close, but he managed to open them again only a few seconds later.
"Are you alright?" Arthur asked softly.
Lancelot nodded silently.
"Back to finding out then who is responsible for your injuries." Arthur straightened in his chair, and looked at his other knights, who had remained silent since Lancelot had spoken up. "The cloak doesn't tell us who attacked Lancelot…"
"A Roman. That we know." Galahad responded.
"Not necessarily," Arthur answered. "In fact, it could have been anyone. Anyone could have gone in and out of the warehouse and steal a cloak…"
"True." Tristan sounded doubtful. "But then again that would indicate that someone planned to attack Lancelot. I don't think that's what happened. If I were to hit on someone and get away with it unnoticed, I would seek an isolated place. And the place where Lancelot was assaulted is far from isolated. Very close to the stables, very close to the main hall. Too many people around at all times."
Several nods all around the room indicated that Tristan's theory was likely.
"And if it wasn't premeditated, then the cloak indicates that it probably was a Roman soldier…" Arthur added thoughtfully. "Which still leaves many possibilities!" The commander's frustration was obvious.
"We could try to lure him out in the open. Bait him," Tristan suggested.
"A trap?" Arthur nodded in agreement. "But how?"
"He tried to kill me before. Maybe we can get him to try again." Lancelot's voice was even weaker than before, but his words were met with a shocked silence.
Suddenly everyone seemed to start to talk at the same time, voicing their concerns, raising objections. Only Arthur and Tristan remained silent.
Lancelot winced in pain as the voices danced inside of his head. He brought his hands to his face and squeezed his eyes close in an attempt to shut out the noise.
"Knights!" Arthur tried not to raise his voice in commiseration of Lancelot, but he had to get their attention.
The noise died down quickly.
Lancelot's eyes remained close. "Lancelot?" Arthur asked softly but urgently.
Lancelot could feel Arthur's gaze on him. He dropped his arms to the bed, and slowly opened his eyes. His eyes were burning with fatigue. He swallowed heavily to get rid of the bile that had risen in his throat.
"Lancelot?" Arthur eyed him warily.
"I'm okay," Lancelot answered quietly. A tremor shook his body, leaving him feeling cold. "Really," he added when he saw Arthur's doubtful face.
Arthur turned his attention back to his other knights. Gawain was the first to speak. "Lancelot's right, Arthur. If we are going to set a trap, it will only work with Lancelot as the bait."
"I agree," Tristan added.
"It's too dangerous," Arthur objected. His face betrayed his fear for his friend. "He can't defend himself."
"Two of us will guard him at all times, Arthur. He won't come to anymore harm!" Gawain knew how his commander was feeling. He shared the same concerns. They all did.
"No! We almost lost him already…"
"Don't you trust your knights to keep me safe, commander?" Lancelot spoke almost inaudibly, too tired to speak up.
Arthur stared at Lancelot. "Point taken." He trusted all of his knights blindly as they did him, and they all knew it. He also knew Lancelot was right, which didn't mean that he had to like it. "Right. So how do we entice the assailant to go after Lancelot once more? Any suggestions?"
"We could spread around that Lancelot remembers what his attacker looked like," Galahad offered. Encouraged by the nods around him, he continued. "Let everyone know that he suspects one of the Roman soldiers, that he didn't recognize him, but that he's sure he will when he sees him again."
Arthur nodded slowly. "That should work. Bors, can we expect Vanora to help spread the rumor? Gossip seems to travel fastest when lots of wine and ale are involved…"
"Aye!" Bors grinned. "I'll tell her tonight!"
"Arthur," Tristan sounded hesitantly. "You will have to leave Lancelot's room. He won't attempt anything while you're there."
"If we let everyone know that you're going to talk to the centurion, that will increase the threat to the assailant, and gets you out of Lancelot's room at the same time without raising suspicion," Gawain added before Arthur could oppose.
"Knights, I think it's time for everyone to leave," Arthur interrupted. "We'll talk about this tomorrow."
One glance at the bed told the other men why Arthur had so suddenly ended the meeting. Lancelot had his eyes closed, his dark curls matted to his pale face that was drenched in sweat.
Quietly and silent the knights left the room. Galahad cast a worried glance at Lancelot before he shut the door behind him.
Arthur knelt down next to the bed. He had been keeping an eye on his friend all through the discussions, and he realized that Lancelot was worsening when a distant look had appeared in the dark eyes. Not much later he had seen his eyes close. Using a wet cloth, he wiped the sweat from Lancelot's brow. Hoping that the coolness would give the Sarmatian some relief from the pain, he left the cloth in place.
"Lancelot? What can I do to help?"
Arthur almost missed the minute shake of Lancelot's head, who kept his eyes closed tightly. Sitting back on the chair, he watched until he knew that the curly haired knight had succumbed to sleep, leaving Arthur alone with his troubled thoughts.
–– 8 ––
Bors and Galahad had been playing dice in the tavern only briefly, when they were approached for the first time to confirm that Lancelot was getting better and had regained his memories of the attack. Reluctantly they admitted, grinning madly at each other as soon as the man left. Vanora had immediately agreed to help to start the rumors, also knowing exactly who to tell first.
When Dagonet and Tristan joined them, they too had already been questioned by several visitors of the tavern. Galahad had determined earlier already that several Romans, from officers to legionaries, were present. After a couple of hours it was clear that the news about Lancelot was the talk of the day at many a table, as had his assault been only a few days before.
Gawain was nowhere to be seen. He had told Galahad earlier that he was staying in his quarters, which were right next to Lancelot's. He knew that their commander was quite capable of watching out for Lancelot, but he had promised Arthur that two of them would guard Lancelot at all times, and he was not going to break that promise.