I actually updated within the week of the last update. I am so happy! Don't worry if you don't like some of the characters now. They'll have plenty of time to settle down.
Camlann- I was so happy to hear from you! I was really sad when Abrecan died…he was really hot. Anyway, Arthur was fighting while Tristan killed Cedric. I just made it so Tristan won their little battle.
Shaeya Sedjet- Thanks!
Quinn-FanFicAddict- Thank you so much! I'm a diehard Dagonet/Fulcinia Shipper, and am so disappointed that most people think its stupid. Idiots. Anyway, I'm glad you enjoyed my other stories. Yeah, the third prisoner deal is pretty old, and I kind of cringe when I think that this was how I actually started one of my stories. I have moved on. Thanks so much for your thoughts!
Je suis une pizza- I would never have been able to juggle that many OCs, though I am a bit of an addict where OCs are concerned. I like the number I have to work with now much better! Thanks for the thoughts, but I think it fair to warn you- my brain is really weird. It does things without telling me all the time. I don't know where I get most of my ideas for stories, but if that is where my mind is going, I'll follow it. I know that sounds really weird, but that's the way it works.
Katemary77- Lancelot is sexy! I'll let you know when to expect the impending romance. Thanks for the review!
Cold. So cold. They were never coming back. She would never see them again. Devona still had things to attend to, even if her people were fewer in number. They were in unfamiliar territory, they had no food, no shelter other than the trees, no maps, no guide, and no plans. All in all, it was not one of the most opportune situations Devona had ever found herself in. Right now, she was bloody, she was tired, and her people weren't in fantastic shape either. They would sleep now, if they could manage it. She hoped they would. They would need it.
They huddled together, trying to keep the cold off. Every so often, a tear would find its way to the earthen floor of the forest, though no one commented on it. No one wanted to push the other too far. The day had not been pleasant, by any stretch of the imagination. Someone stroked her hair, though she didn't know whom the hand belonged to. She didn't much care. It wasn't their hands she wanted on her.
Her thoughts were fixed on Abrecan. He wasn't dead, he couldn't be! He was just wounded…she shouldn't have left that battlefield without checking on him. It would be her fault if he bled out before they could reach him. Her fault. It didn't matter that Cedric had ordered her…Cedric was dead. He was dead. She hadn't let herself think of him. Hadn't let herself think of him at all. He had looked after her, trained her, and she had refused to think of him. She hadn't deserved anything that he had given her over the years, including his trust. Now, the last memory she would have of him would be him lying on his belly, a blade through his back. All the blood. Too much blood. She remembered only vaguely the warrior who had brought the blade down. Perhaps she would know him by sight, perhaps not.
She didn't know how much time had past. It was getting darker though, and she knew the hours must have been considerable. She had to wake them. They needed to get moving. It would be best to move in the dark, less chance of being seen. They needed a plan, and she wasn't sure whether she should be acting as their commander now. It seemed to her that they should make decisions together from now on. Perhaps they wouldn't have lost as many… But, there wasn't anything she could do about that now. What was done was done. She gently shook each shoulder, tried to give each face a smile, though she often failed. Once they had all regained at least the majority of their faculties, she began.
"What will we do?" she asked, quietly.
Devona didn't usually ask questions. It was a much more common occurrence for her to provide the answers. She didn't have them now, and it worried her band. This was not the confident leader of the morning. She was broken, and it showed. Esma decided it was time for action.
"We will leave." She said, simply.
Aglaeca shook his head. "We don't know the land. It will take much work, much stealth. Even then, we still wouldn't be sure where we're going. Who would we ask for directions? The villagers wouldn't be helpful to Saxons." He mused aloud, hardly noticing the shocked looks on his friends faces.
Usually, Aglaeca wasn't one for much talk. He usually let Banan have all the fun there…but Banan was dead. Like the rest of them. Aglaeca didn't seem to be thinking along those lines, however. No, at the moment, he was formulating their plan of escape.
Devona was trying very hard to listen, to keep herself in the moment. If she went anywhere else, she didn't know what might happen. What she might see, blood…blood.
"We have to go back." She said, in that same quiet, fragile voice that had so frightened them earlier.
Aglaeca looked at her. "We know, that's what we're trying to figure out. Right now, we have to make our way to the coast, and then…"
"No." Devona cut him off, " Back to camp. We'll need our things."
Even Esma saw problems with this plan. "Devona, they won't just let us back. They'll kill us. Yes, we must go back, but not to camp. Back home, Devona, home. We'll all live together, won't we, and it will all be wonderful…" she trailed off.
The tone she had just used was so unlike her. There were no innuendos, no witticism. It was all desperation, all in an attempt to soothe the frazzled nerves of her once impenetrable commander. Her friend. They were all behaving in manners completely alien to them.
"No." Devona repeated. "We will never make it home. No one would help us, we'd all die. No. We'll go back to the camp. We have our dead to bury, after all."
Everyone was silent for a time after that statement. It was true, they certainly had dead on their hands, but what could they do about it? The painted people would kill them on sight, and the bodies would be burned eventually. They were not a stealthy group, and in this country, they didn't exactly blend in.
Estra spoke for the first time. "We cannot go back there, Devona. The dead are dead, we are not. They wouldn't want us to cut our own lives short. You know that." She said, trying to keep her voice even, reasonable.
"The dead were ours." Devona snapped, "Ours. Mine. They were mine. I won't leave them to rot, or to be hacked at and burned by some bumbling heathen drunkards with blue skin. They deserve better. More. You can't expect me to hop on a boat and sail away home." She hissed.
Devona had never used that tone with her people. In fact, Esma doubted she had ever hissed in her life. Devona did not often indulge in anything, even in vocal inflection. Bernia wasn't about to let that go. She moved so that she stood toe to toe with Devona, their noses inches apart.
"Control yourself, Devona. Do you think they meant nothing to us? Do you think you're the only one with a heart? A soul? Cwen died today. She's dead. She's gone. How do you think I feel about that? You lost men today. We all did. You lost Abrecan today; we know what he was to you. Well, you know what? He didn't mean any less to the rest of us then he did to you. He was our brother, our friend. Cwen was our sister, our friend. Banan was our brother, our friend. Drefan was…"
"I know! I know!" she yelled, "You don't have to name them all! I know each and every one of them!"
"Why shouldn't I name them? They were real? Weren't they?" Bernia challenged.
They were right in each other's faces, the air around them hummed with violence. Then, Devona did something unexpected. Angry tears fell to her cheeks, clouding her vision. She slumped to the ground, in a most undignified posture. Devona was not a weak woman. You didn't become a commander in the Saxon army with weakness. Her friends didn't know what to make of it. Esma was the first to come to her senses.
She dropped to her knees beside her friend, searching for her eyes. "You keep that up, you'll work up some nice mud, pretty soon we'll have us a nice swamp, then no one will come here for us. You go right on ahead and cry, its fine." She said, attempting to regain her usual form of speech. "I might join you."
She held her, not quite sure what to do about all the tears. This was why she liked men. They were so much simpler! They didn't just break out crying all the time! This was not Esma's particular area of expertise, but she gave it a good try.
Bernia and Aefre exchanged bewildered glances, even more confused than Esma, if that was possible. The only ones who seemed completely at ease were Aglaeca and Anbidian. Over the course of their lives, they had come across many damsels in distress, and had lived to fight another day. This was old territory for them, it was almost reassuring. Certainly, it would have been better if said damsel was not their commanding officer, but you take what you can get. With a nod, they approached the rather wet pair on the forest floor. Aglaeca took Devona's arms, while Anbidian took her feet. This did not make for a very happy Devona. She sputtered, and even managed a glare for the two men. They saw this as quite an improvement.
They didn't stop once she had ceased to cry. No, they brought her over to the creek, and dumped her in. Aglaeca dusted his hands off on his tunic, and actually smiled at Anbidian.
"That should do the trick." He said, very smug.
It certainly did. Devona surfaced absolutely furious. Gone was the fragile and frightening female. Well, she was still frightening…very much so, in fact. She rose from the depths of the shallow creek, the water dripping from her hair. Her face was murderous, and they all let out a sigh of relief at this. Devona was back! It really didn't concern them overly much that she was not in the most calm of tempers. They took it as a sign that she wouldn't be breaking down in tears anytime soon.
Devona looked down at her hands. The blood that had dried was newly red, running over her palms. She bent down and sank into the creek, scrubbing her hands, her skin, trying to make it go away. But it didn't want to go. She found it in the folds of her skin, underneath her fingernails. She lifted her hand to her hair, and found it tacky with blood. That would need to change, and soon. She didn't think she could stand it much longer.
Esma didn't particularly like the state of her hair, either. She considered it, then squaring her shoulders, she marched the two males away from the creek, making sure their backs were the only thing that could see the water. Satisfied that they would stay where she put them, she hummed back to her girls. She pulled Estra and Bernia behind her, sure that she wasn't the only one concerned with a bit of hygiene.
When Esma had finished with her hair, she turned to Devona.
"How's this for a plan- I find some desperate wealthy man with a few extra rooms who's willing to forget he has a wife for a dance around the bed with me." She said, grinning.
Devona raised an eyebrow. "Well, I suppose your chances are better now that your hair is it's natural shade." She commented. "But, no. I don't like that plan. I want the old man."
"Deal." Conceded Esma, face straight.
"If Devona gets an old man, I want one too." Bernia informed her.
"Me three!" yelled Anbidian, over his shoulder.
"Now, children…we can all find old men, there's no need to argue over it." Assured Aefre, giving everyone a little shock. Well, at least it was a pleasant shock. It always surprised them when Aefre let on that she actually had a sense of humor.
Devona stepped out of the creek, and pulled on her tunic. It clung to her wet flesh, but she really didn't care. As she tugged on her trousers, she turned back to her friends.
"I'm sorry. I wasn't myself." She said, briefly.
They all nodded, and Devona caught Bernia's eye. A few seconds hummed between them, and Bernia blinked. She gave Devona a half smile, and Devona let out a sigh. It was all right. Bernia didn't hold a grudge. She walked away to join the small male population of her cavalry.
The other women finished up their washing quickly, not wanting to linger in the water. It wasn't exactly warm.
Arthur contemplated the trees. He had seen all number of Saxons retreating there, and had assumed that the Woads would take care of that little problem. He had seen a group of Saxons on horseback leave, and they hadn't been found yet. That worried him. Warriors on horseback could do a lot of damage. They could very well kill any party he sent after them. Perhaps killing them wasn't the answer.
Arthur had been raised as a Roman. He knew all about Roman politics, how Romans waged war. He knew what they did with prisoners; his men were living proof of that. Perhaps that was what he needed. Over the years, he had lost many knights, and they had never been replaced. He would offer those positions to the dangerously unknown Saxons. There would, of course, be precautions that must be taken. He would make sure that they were seen to. At the moment, he was going to have a nice long talk with his recently freed knights.
Review please! I'll be your "bestest" friend forever! If you find Devona to be really annoying right now, that's okay. Trust me, she gets better!
