A/N: This is suposed to be what happened before the movie 'King Arthur', how most of his knights were slain in battle against the Woads, and the story of those who didn't actually make it to the movie. Lots of beatiful brave ladies and chivalrious knights and their legends. There are no original characters. :) (Oh, and this may contain some slash hints further on (lots of her too, though)... but nothing too graphic in any way.

THIS LAND'S BLOOD- Prologue

It's strange how time remembers some legends and forgets others. Some who fought and died bravely in battle, but whose hero never got to be mentioned. How many of those are there? Countless. But then, some others' courage was told from mothers to daughters and fathers to sons. Some of the legends of knights, savages and impossible love. Some of those were real.

''Keep that courage, I will need it.'' A young boy, slightly older than me, said as I wiped my lower lip with my sleeve. I'd just been punched for trying to recover a lion-shaped pendant that my sister had given me. ''What's your name?''

''Lancelot.'' I said, as ever stroking the lion's head nervously. I had been the last one to arrive to a group of young men, most of them children, that followed Arthur and the romans. Actually, we were cursed to do so until our lives ended or tha romans took pity on us.

''I am Arthur.'' He said, smiling slightly. His eyes shone with a bright light, hope and good. Mine, on the other hand, were still glancing around nervously and wishing to be back home- like all of the other soon to be knights. ''You will be my knights. Don't worry, I will take care of you.''

''Who says I'm worried?'' I replied, hurt in my pride.

Arthur just smiled at my reply. From the first moment I thought that there was something about him that made me feel close to him. Maybe it was the warmth of his eyes or his mere presence. But I sat by him by the fire when he just pretended to ignore me. I looked at the others around me and tried to remember all of their names... that was impossible, at the moment. My mind was still full of fear, of hate... and of interest. Somehow, being a knight could not be a curse. Not with Arthur.

And there were the others, as well. One called Geraint, a teenager, the oldest of us along with Bors, said that he already missed the girl he had at home, a sarmatian called Enid that lived in his village. His eyes were of a pale blue and his hair blond and short. He sounded the most lonely of us all. Maybe because of his age he was the only one to realice that we'd lost home that day.

The twins listened to his melancholic speech. They would have been my age, at the most. Their eyes were green and their hair long and brown. One of them was called Gareth. The other, Gaheris. They were so similar in both appearance and behavior, that at that point no one but their mother would have told the difference. They smiled slightly, trying to hold back the urge to join Geraint in a mad run back home.

I can just recall one really being calm about this all. Maybe not caring about being torn away from his family. His name was Bedivere. He was slightly older than me, and very wise for his age. He was reading a scroll about healing herbs and their properties. He was the one that taught us to read when he caught us off-guard. But many things could be learnt from him. One was patience- one that I never quite learnt. Another younger knight listened to his talking about plants, one called Parsifal.

There were some other brothers apart from the twins. Some guys dressed with furs called Dagoned and Bors. Bors was the older one, more corpulent and way noisier. He'd somehow managed to take the roman guards' wine and offered it to me. Arthur took it and for a moment I thought he'd throw it at his head.

''He'll have time to drink when he's old enough.'' He said, returning the wine to Bors. His brother smiled. He was peaceful and silent, but his eyes were strong and warm. A valuable friend.

''We're never getting away from the romans. He might as well drink until he dies.'' Came a bitter voice. For being the same age as me, Kay was a bitter person. He was tall and had long shiny black hair. I remembered it because of the braids characteristic of his tribe. His eyes were dark and piercing. Out of us all, he was the one that hated the most being here. Not because he hated the slain –he'd admitted liking that- but the fact that he was a prisoner. He was someone who would have rather died free than lived as a slave. And at some point, that's what happened to him. I didn't understand his words back then, but I do now.

''So might you, but I don't see you doing it.'' Tristan snapped back. He had shorter hair, but the same braids as Kay. They came from the same place, and had probably met each other before. While Tristan was a silent person –that was the first time I ever heard him talk- he always knew when he had something to say. Dipping his fingers in ash from the fire, he traced two lines on each of his cheeks. Later on, that would be his tattoo. It was his way of showing that he was a fighter and that we were at war- maybe just against the world.

''You're a painted freak, I should not listen to you.'' Kay replied. Some of the knights laughed. Other, seeing the look on Tristan's face, didn't. But as much as I expected him to jump to the other knight's throat, the 'painted freak' didn't.

''I'm not going to lose my calm because of an angry whiner.'' This time all of the knights laughed. Kay almost looked offended, almost. But he rather had this sort of conversation, where he could insult and molest someone, that a calm, peaceful one.

The last knights were the closest to the fire. Another boy, slightly younger than me with long blonde curls and pale eyes cradled an almost-baby boy in a dark blankett. That was Gawain. The youngest one had dark eyes and soft black curls, and was sleeping soundly in Gawain's lap. Any girl I knew would have yelled they were the cutest sight ever. But to our young and rather evil eyes (only a kid can be cruel enough), it looked a bit different.

''What are you, his boyfriend?'' Kay snapped, looking at Gawain. For a second, we thought that he'd stab Kay with a stick. But soon smiled.

''What, jealous?'' This time even I was laughing. Arthur seemed to be enjoying the company, and so was I. I was thinking that maybe at some point we'd be the best team that Rome and the world had seem.

And we were.