Disclaimer: I'm so tired of writing a disclaimer...at this point, I think we all know that I don't own anything but the original characters that I've added.

A/N: Please note that I found it necessary to increase Dayn's age slightly, so he is now 19 years old, rather than 17. I hated to do this, because I don't like to change things a lot after they've been uploaded, but I had to do it for the sake of my sanity, and the story.

Chapter 4—The Repercussions of Rage

It became increasingly obvious when they rode into Bremenium that the town was engulfed in chaos. Fires raged, filling the air with a smoke-laden haze. Screaming could be heard throughout the small village, as peasants came up against trained Roman soldiers.

"Spread out," Arthur called. "Tristan, Aldric—that way," he said, pointing east. He sent each of the knights off in pairs, relying on them to watch out for each other. Dayn found himself with Gawain, a surprise since Gawain was usually paired with Galahad, but Dayn didn't mind. Gawain was a good fighter, and he could hold his own in any fight.

As he and Gawain took off in the direction that Arthur pointed them in, Dayn sincerely hoped that the madness would take him, for he did not wish for awareness if he was forced to kill the simple villagers. If the opportunity arose to kill Romans when Gawain wasn't watching, Dayn knew he would take it in an instant.

And then the fight was on them, and they waded unceremoniously into the middle of a skirmish between a small group of soldiers and a large number of peasants. Some of the peasants were fighting, but many more of them were simply trying to get out of the way, Dayn noticed. As he fought his way with Gawain, he was careful not to make killing blows if he could help it. Maybe they'll live to fight the Romans another day. The skirmish was so mild in comparison to their usual battles that Dayn found himself surprisingly coherent in thought, with none of the usual madness that took him. That's probably a good thing, considering I'm trying not to kill anyone, Dayn thought.

Before long, the peasants were giving way under the combined efforts of the two knights and the Roman soldiers, and soon, most were running. To his left, Dayn suddenly spotted something that made his blood freeze in his veins. A small boy, no older than two, ran out from under a wagon, tears streaming down his face as he wailed for someone. Where's the boy's mother? He hurried to reach the boy, knowing that the child was in danger in the streets. But before he could reach him, one of the Roman soldiers grabbed the boy, hauling him up by his tunic. With a sneer of disgust, the Roman gazed at the boy before dropping him, and with a quick swing of his sword, killed him.

Dayn felt the familiar red haze of battle madness coming over him as he rushed for the Roman, enraged. The soldier turned around just in time to parry Dayn's sword. But he was no match for Dayn's rage. With a guttural yell, Dayn drove his sword into the soldier's abdomen, feeling a distant sense of satisfaction as it pierced the Roman's body. Jerking his sword out, he swung back for one more strike, cleaving the soldier's head from his body in one clean blow.

Without thought, Dayn turned to find another opponent, and luckily another Roman was waiting to oblige. Time had ceased to have any meaning as he let his fury take him, driving him to continue swinging his sword in a ceaseless campaign of slaughter. A scream of horror finally pulled him back from the edge, and he watched as a young woman ran forward, her face contorting in agony as she cradled the body of the little boy in her hands. Dayn watched as she sobbed, not knowing what to do.

"Dayn." It was Arthur's voice, Dayn knew, and he could feel himself slipping away again as the anger welled up. He fought it, but he knew his control was slim. He slowly turned, his eyes skimming past the other knights who had gathered around him, to face Arthur.

"We should not have come here, Arthur," he said coldly, his eyes flat and unemotional even as he was filled with rage and turmoil inside. He turned back to the woman, watching as she vented her sorrow in a seemingly endless wail. She looked up at Dayn, confusion and pain on her features, as she seemed to ask him why any of this had happened.

"Dayn, we need to go," Dagonet said softly, coming to stand behind him.

"Yes, I think we've done enough here." With that, Dayn turned and went to find his horse, heedless of the bodies that littered the ground around him. Dagonet watched his retreat with a worried expression on his face, turning when Aldric came up beside him.

"How many did he kill," he asked Aldric, knowing instinctively that he may not want to hear the answer.

"The whole unit—twelve in all."

"Did you see him?" The two men turned as Cei approached. "I arrived a few minutes after Dayn killed the first one. I've never seen anything like that."

"Cei, he's always gone mad during battle. You know that."

"Yes, but this...this was something else entirely. He even scared me. I think if one of us had gone near him then, he would have killed us, too, without a second thought." Cei shook his head and spotting Gawain, headed off to see if Gawain could tell him anything else. Dagonet turned back to Aldric as Cei moved away.

"Has Arthur said anything?"

"No," Aldric answered. After a moment of consideration, he continued. "I don't think he will. Gawain told him what happened. How that Roman killed that boy. He won't say so, but I think he's glad that Dayn did what he did."

"I think we're going to be feeling the repercussions of this day for a long time, Aldric." Aldric didn't reply, for he had the feeling that Dagonet was right.


Dayn pushed Brina, willing her to go faster. He needed Orainne. He needed her to get his mind off of what had happened. He kept seeing that little boy's face, the terror in his eyes right before he was killed. The others were giving him a wide berth, for which Dayn was grateful. He didn't want to speak to anyone about what had happened. No doubt Arthur was going to want to talk to him about the incident, but Dayn was none too willing to comply.

It's all Arthur's fault, he thought irrationally. He made me come here. Finally, Arthur called a halt, and Dayn pulled Brina to a halt impatiently.

"Why are we stopping," he asked angrily.

"The horses are tired, and so is everyone else. We'll rest for the night, and pick back up in the morning."

"We're not that far from the Wall. We should keep going."

"No. It's been a long day, and I think we could all use some rest."

"Well, of course, Arthur, if that's what you think is best," he responded sarcastically.

"Who are we to say anything differently?" He angrily dismounted, leading his horse away from the others, and set to work unsaddling the great beast.

"Dayn..." He turned at Lancelot's voice, wondering what Lancelot could possibly have to say to him. He said nothing, waiting for Lancelot to speak his piece and leave him alone. "You shouldn't hold it against Arthur. What happened today wasn't his fault."

"I don't recall asking for your opinion on the matter, Lancelot. It doesn't matter, now, does it? That boy is still dead, no matter whose fault it is." Dayn turned back to his horse, clearly dismissing Lancelot. But Lancelot wasn't finished yet.

"Dayn, things happen, and sometimes, there's nothing you can do to change it."

"I don't want to talk about this. Go back with the others, and leave me be."

"You know Arthur is going to want to speak with you."

"Yes, well, right now I don't give a damn what Arthur wants." Dayn turned his back on Lancelot and pulled out his bedroll, spreading it across the ground. He lay down, wrapping his cloak tightly around his frame to ward off the cold, and closed his eyes. Sleep beckoned, but before he could drift off, he heard a voice calling his name. Opening his eyes, he saw Arthur crouched down next to him.

"Dayn, I need you to tell me what happened today."

"No. As I told Lancelot, I do not wish to speak of it."

"Dayn, I can't just let this go. I need to know what happened in case someone questions me about it."

"Why don't you just lie?"

"You know I can't do that."

"Why? Would it anger your god," he asked derisively.

"Dayn," Arthur said, sternly.

"What do you want me to tell you, Arthur," he yelled suddenly. He exploded upward, taking Arthur by surprise as he came to stand before him. "Do you want me to tell you how that Roman bastard killed that boy with a smile on his face? Or maybe you want me to tell you how he looked as his insides spilled out of his body! Or the look on his mother's face as she saw her son lying on the ground like he was nothing!"

"Dayn, I'm sorry about the boy." Deep down, Dayn knew that Arthur meant what he said, but somehow, it didn't seem to matter.

"Do you think your pity changes anything, Arthur? I'm sure the boy's mother wouldn't think so. Her son is dead!" Dayn fell silent, taking a moment to regain his composure before he began again, this time in an almost eerily calm voice. "We should not have been there, Arthur. They were peasants, not warriors. But you ordered us to cut them down like dogs."

"I didn't like being there any more than you did, but I..."

"If we hadn't interfered, those peasants may have been able to overcome the soldiers, and then maybe that little boy needn't have been killed." He felt his eyes start to well up, and he turned away, embarrassed by the show of emotion. Arthur reached out, putting his hand on Dayn's shoulder, but Dayn shrugged it off angrily. "Do you know what I see when I close my eyes? I see that little boy being murdered in front of me, and then I see his mother's eyes staring up at me, blaming me."

"Dayn, it wasn't your fault. That soldier was wrong to have killed that child—you and I both know that."

"Just let me alone, Arthur. I can't talk about this anymore." Arthur gazed at him for a moment more before he nodded and slowly walked away. Dayn could see the other knights sitting around the fire, and he knew with certainty that they had all been listening. But he didn't care. He walked back to his bedroll, but didn't lie down because he knew that sleep was far away now.

He sat down, his back to the fire, struggling to picture Orainne's face instead of the little boy. He started when Bors came up beside him, clearing his throat hesitantly. Dayn looked up at him curiously, knowing that Bors wasn't generally one to lecture or offer condolences.

"Listen. I just wanted you to know that...well, I'd have done the same if it were me. I've got twelve little ones of my own, you know."

"Eleven, Bors."

"Eleven what?"

"You have eleven little ones, not twelve."

"Oh, that. I'll have twelve before long, you just wait. I'm a virile man, you know."

Dayn chuckled, glad that Bors was there. He wasn't outwardly comforting, but he could cheer someone up with little effort. And somehow, it felt good to know that someone didn't hold his actions against him.

"I wish it hadn't been me, Bors," he said, his smile fading.

"Yeah." Bors was uncharacteristically silent for a moment, allowing Dayn's words to sink in before he turned with a half-smile on his face. "You know what? I think you could use some ale."

"That sounds nice, Bors. Do you have any with you?"

"Course not. Arthur won't let me—you know that. On account of what happened last time, you know." Oh yes...that's a tale we still laugh about. When Bors isn't around, of course. It wasn't exactly his best moment. "Tell you what, though. As soon as we get back, I'll buy you a drink." They were silent for a few moments, and Dayn was glad that it had been Bors to come over.

"Thanks, Bors." They both knew he wasn't just talking about the ale. Bors sat there with Dayn, saying nothing for a long time until Dayn finally settled back down on his bedroll, closing his eyes as exhaustion finally won out.

Arthur waited until he was sure Dayn was asleep before gathering the knights around him at the fire.

"Now, we know that the peasants will not speak of what they saw this day, but we need to know for sure that there were no Roman soldiers who escaped to witness what happened. Did anyone see anything?"

"Arthur," Cei began sheepishly, "I don't think any of us were paying attention to the Romans...we were all watching Dayn at the time. I know I was."

"Your honesty is appreciated, Cei, but not useful. Anyone else?"

"Didn't Dayn kill all the Romans standing around him," Galahad asked.

"It looked that way to me, Arthur," Aldric said, rubbing the back of his neck wearily. "But I just don't know, because I'm not sure Dayn was coherent enough to be concerned with witnesses. He just wanted blood."

"Tristan, did you see anything," Arthur asked, turning his eyes on the quiet scout.

"When Dayn's madness subsided, there were twelve bodies on the ground. When he left, there were only eleven," he said quietly, his eyes never leaving the dirk he was sharpening. Arthur met Lancelot's eyes over the fire, his worry evident.

"Could you recognize the missing soldier if you saw him again, Tristan?" Tristan merely looked at Arthur, implying with just his gaze that the question was unwarranted. Finally, he nodded, returning his attention to the dirk in his hand.

"I'm sorry, Tristan, but I need you to ride back and track down the last soldier." With a nod, Tristan stood, slipping the dirk back into his boot before leaving the light of the fire to saddle his horse. "Caderyn, Lancelot, go with him." Arthur followed them as they went to their horses to mount up. "Gentlemen, we can afford no mistakes. Take care of it." With resolute nods, Tristan and Lancelot began to ride off, but Caderyn paused before Arthur.

"Don't worry, Arthur," he said, offering a hopeful smile. "We know what to do." Then, clucking softly to his mare, he followed after the others, and soon the three men were swallowed up by darkness. Please, God, Arthur prayed, let them be successful.

In the wee hours of the morning, the three knights returned, and with a nod, Tristan indicated that all had been taken care of.


A/N: I'm sorry about including the murder of the little boy, but I had to have something traumatic enough to spur Dayn into killing the Roman soldiers in front of everyone. So, if anyone was really bothered by the little boy's death, I apologize. Also, I know that the very end moved quickly, but I didn't want to get bogged down by the knights' return to Bremenium, so I just had to let it end quickly in order to get to the next chapter. Anyways, please review--I love reviews!

chiefhow: I'm glad to know that you find Dayn interesting. And of course he's hot. I found it interesting that you see Dayn and Lancelot as similar, because I really never thought of them that way. They do both show signs of a temper, though. The difference in them is that Lancelot has more of that flirtatious, good-natured side, whereas Dayn is quite broody. Thanks for all the compliments! Keep reviewing for me!

ModestySparrow9: Alas, I haven't gotten an email sniffle . I delayed uploading, in the off chance that the email would come, but I couldn't wait any longer. Hey, question for you...I hope this doesn't sound stupid, but what did you mean when you said Lancelot was a "pish posh"? I've been trying to figure that out, and it's driving me nuts! Camlann is the site of Arthur's last battle, where he and Mordred met their ends. Yeah, I'm trying to get that smart aleck side of Dayn's personality to come out, but I'm not sure if I'm managing it effectively. But it makes for interesting interactions, doesn't it? I have a really good scene written between Lance and Dayn for a later chapter that is quite entertaining...more to come, so keep reading and reviewing!

HGandRHrforever: Thanks for reviewing...glad you liked the Dayn and Lancelot interaction. As I told ModestySparrow9, there's an entertaining scene between those two that will be forthcoming...Hope you enjoyed this chapter as well.