Chapter 1: Taking a Risk
Disclaimer: You know the drill...the only characters I own are Dayn, Aldric, and Cei.
A/N: This is my first fanfic ever, so I hope it's alright. Please R&R.
Dayn looked around impatiently, wondering when the others would be drunk enough that he could make his escape. He'd been here for too long already. The ale was flowing freely, and there was no shortage of women in a tavern such as this one, so it shouldn't be long now. Lancelot was no worry, not with that wench on his lap...yes, he was quite occupied. And Bors was already drunk enough that the Woads could have attacked and he probably wouldn't notice. Dayn heard Gawain start singing-- his voice was unmistakable, for no one could quite slaughter a song like Gawain. And since Gawain only sang when he was drunk, well...he was no longer a concern. Cei looked like he was only a sip or two away from joining in on Gawain's song. Not that Cei was much of a worry anyway—he was quite oblivious, even when he wasn't drunk. Galahad was busy negotiating with the bartender it looked like. Aldric and Dagonet were playing some sort of game at a table a few feet away, leaving the drinking to the others. Of Tristan, there was no sign. Galahad came over then, two mugs of ale in his hands, slipping a little as he tried to sit down with the cautiousness of the slightly inebriated.
"Here, Dayn...I brought you some ale. You haven't had anything to drink."
"Nay. I don't wish for any tonight." Dayn winced as he realized how out of character it was for him to refrain. Hopefully, Galahad was drunk enough not to notice.
"Surely, you jest. Here," Galahad said, thrusting the mug into Dayn's hand. Now, how do I get rid of it without anyone noticing, Dayn thought. Bors. Yes, Bors was the key. Dayn clapped Galahad on the shoulder, and stood.
"My thanks." He headed for Bors, sure that he would appreciate the ale, but before he could reach him, one of the Roman soldiers knocked into him. Dayn told himself to ignore the infraction, but the Roman was not so willing.
"Watch where you're going, boy," the Roman snarled as he gave Dayn a small shove. Dayn turned, his eyes flashing with a dangerous flicker as his gaze turned icy.
"Touch me again, and I'll kill you," he said, quietly. The tavern fell silent as everyone waited to see what would happen. Dayn's hand slipped down to the dagger at his waist.
"Do you really think you stand a chance against me, boy?"
"Let's find out," Dayn replied with a cold smile. Before he could pull his dagger, however, a large hand covered his. Dagonet.
"Dayn, do you remember what Arthur said about you fighting with the Roman soldiers?" Yeah, he said it better not happen again...but what Arthur didn't know wouldn't hurt him, now, would it?
"Arthur's not here, Dag. Now, release me." While Dagonet had Dayn's attention, Aldric had come up behind the Roman and was convincing him to head over to the bartender and get another ale. But Dayn would not be satisfied with that, for the Roman had insulted him, and that was something he never tolerated. Pouring the ale he still held out onto the ground, he hefted the mug, and threw it at the back of the Roman's head. The Roman never saw it coming and he dropped to the ground without a sound.
Unfortunately, the Roman had friends who stood up, angry on behalf of their comrade. Dagonet shoved Dayn toward the door, annoyed that he would have to be the one to make sure that none of the Romans were killed. "Get out of here, Dayn. You let me handle this. If you kill one of them, Arthur will have both our heads." Dayn shrugged, and left the tavern without a second thought.
As far as distractions go, I suppose that was a good one. Not a planned one, obviously, but it worked. And he was free to go wherever he wanted with no one giving him a second thought. With a smile, he headed for an area of the fort that he knew would be unprotected. There weren't many weaknesses in Hadrian's Wall, but Dayn knew where to go when he wanted to get out without anyone noticing.
With a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching, he traversed the wall, landing lightly on his feet on the other side. As long as he was back before dawn, no one would notice his absence. And since the Roman he'd fought wasn't dead, Arthur shouldn't seek him out for any reason before morning. He took off for the hills, and the woods that lay beyond.
Tristan watched Dayn slip over the Wall with a blank expression. This made the third time this week that the boy had slipped away from the fort. Wonder where he's off to? He was curious, in a distant sort of way, but having imbibed a fair amount of ale, he wasn't motivated enough to question it further.
At nineteen, Dayn was the youngest of Arthur's knights, two years younger than Galahad. The boy was quite the fighter, Tristan thought, which, knowing his penchant for trouble, was necessary. Dayn's temper was legendary, even among the older knights, which made him quite a worthy opponent, definitely one worth watching. It was an unspoken rule between the knights that Dayn was to be watched at all times by at least one of them. To leave Dayn unsupervised was folly, for there was always a risk that he'd go after someone, especially if that someone was a Roman. Even Arthur was hard-pressed to keep Dayn under control. Glad I'm not the one who has to deal with him. Tristan considered following Dayn, but with a shrug, decided to leave the boy to his secrets. After all, there were no Romans in the woods, so why bother?
