"Get out you bastard!" the younger man shouted, heaving the contents of the bag out onto his bed heatedly.
"This is my room as well. Besides I think you forfeited it with that stunt you just pulled!" He yelled back.
"That was none of your business! You had no-"
"No what! No right? No it wouldn't have been my business when they caught you and slaughtered you for desertion either!"
He turned from his bag and whirled round to face him.
"Who says they would have caught me?"
"Gods Galahad don't be so bloody stupid! Don't you think in the two hundred years Sarmatians have been stationed, that someone would have tried that before? You aren't the first to do it you know. You're not the only one who's suffered this!"
The dark haired knight's eyes flashed angrily and he returned to throwing his few belongings out onto the stone floor of the cold dorm.
"The Romans own half the bloody world! 'Course they would've caught you. The would have hunted you down like a dog! Maybe you would've made it out of here, but you wouldn't have made off this island!"
"Well I wouldn't know, I never got the chance! Why did you stop me? You want to keep me here? Do you want me to stay here in misery?"
Gawain grabbed Galahad by the collar of his leather jerkin and slammed him against the wall.
"Oh no I don't care about your welfare do I! If I didn't care then I would have let you leave! I would have let you go and get your throat slit! Don't give me that you little shit!"
Exasperated, Gawain threw the lad aside onto the floor. Galahad looked up at him with wounded eyes, rubbing the back of his head. Gawain turned towards the door, unable to look at him. He clenched his hands into fists to stop them shaking, and growled.
"Non of us are here by choice. But we accept our situation, because there's nothing we can do about it. It's time you grew up and got on with it.
If you cant do that then there's only one way out of this place, and it's not on a boat."
With that Gawain marched out of the room, leaving Galahad on the floor, shaken and alone.
Galahad sat hunched on his bed, his knees pulled up to his chest. His head still throbbed where Gawain had thrown him onto the hard stone. More than the physical pain of the clash, it was Gawain's actions and words that had hurt him the most. Well, perhaps he had incited it a little. But if Gawain hadn't been spying on him then he wouldn't have had to have that fight with him. He would have been away from this place. Far away. No longer living in chains, an assassin in slavery, until he was slain like all the others.
But like Gawain had said, there was only one way out of this life. It had shocked Galahad to hear Gawain say it, but it wasn't like the thought hadn't crossed his mind. When times had been at their worst, when the killing had gotten too much, when he was reviled by the other knights, when he missed home the most. He knew it wouldn't get him home. But, he had thought as he sat alone in his cold bare room in the shadows of night, his dagger pressed against the inside of his wrist, gathering the courage to press down, at least he would be free. He wouldn't wake up feeling lonely and homesick, counting down the days.
Yet he never had the resolve or the nerve to do it. He knew he didn't. He wouldn't have been the first to try that method of escape either. The truth was, he didn't even have the guts to run away. When Gawain had followed him out and caught him on the fields beyond the gate, he had already decided to turn back. But as soon as he knew Gawain was there he was too angry, and knowing he would stop him, he carried on running.
Suddenly the door creaked open slowly, and a tall dark figure peered in. Galahad smiled half-heartedly at his commander, and taking his cue, Arthur sat down on the edge of the bed beside the young man. They sat in silence for a while, before Arthur spoke.
"Gawain told me what happened."
"He what?" Galahad asked sharply.
"About the fight. He said the two of you had argued. He was afraid he'd hurt you."
"Oh." Perhaps Gawain hadn't told Arthur about his attempted getaway, he thought.
"He feels terrible about it."
Galahad looked away, avoiding Arthur's appeal for understanding.
"I know that it must hard for you Galahad. Being here. The other knights have been here longer, they have adjusted to this life, as much as it is possible to.
And I know you don't feel so flippantly about what we do, as some others. But you must understand that we are here to help you." Galahad looked up at him.
"Having friends like Gawain makes this experience a lot easier to live through. He cares a lot about you. You are brothers."
Galahad nodded solemnly, and rose to his feet, turning away from Arthur so that he couldn't see the tear he wiped from his eye. Galahad almost laughed at himself as he did so. He could hide nothing from Arthur.
The roman left the room, and Galahad followed him out to the tavern, where Gawain sat quietly with the other knights, gazing despondently into his mug of ale. With a nod of encouragement from Arthur, Galahad pulled up a stool beside Gawain, who stole an uneasy glance at him.
"How's your head?"
"Fine. You should see the other guy."
Gawain's eyes shifted to the floor, and he smiled awkwardly.
"Why didn't you tell Arthur about what happened?"
"I didn't think it'd do you any good. Besides, if they knew about your little scheme they'd all be trying it. So…friends?"
Galahad put his arm around the blond knight's shoulders.
"Brothers."