Disclaimer: Blah, blah, blah…I own my characters, and nothing more.

Chapter 7—In the Service of Rome

The next morning found most of the knights stumbling into the main hall, the previous night's revelry having caught up with them. Dayn slowly made his way along the corridor, keeping a hand on the wall in order to stay upright. He found that last night's ale had done nothing for his dizziness, and it was all he could do to remain standing. But he would not be excluded, and if that meant he had to crawl to the Round Table, then so be it. He finally staggered in right as Arthur was about to begin speaking.

"Sorry I'm late," he apologized as he swayed toward his chair.

"Dayn, are you drunk," Arthur asked sternly.

"No, just lightheaded," he replied as he sat down with a relieved sigh.

Dagonet turned to him sternly. "So where were you, huh? The other day. I came back to your room with a sleeping draught, and there was no trace of you."

"I didn't want the damn sleeping draught, I just wanted to be left alone. And I didn't kill anyone, so you don't have to worry."

"Dayn, answer the question," Arthur cut in.

"I just needed some space, Arthur. Is that asking too much?"

"You weren't inside the wall," Tristan spoke up, his quiet voice cutting in. Dayn turned to glare at Tristan, angry that he always seemed to know everything.

"What, do you spy on me now, Tristan?"

"Are you saying that you left the garrison," Arthur asked, interrupting Dayn before he could continue. Shit, Dayn thought, as he realized his blunder.

"So what if I did? No one was hurt."

"Dayn, you could have gotten yourself killed. Woads roam the area north of the wall, you know that." You have no idea, Arthur. Dayn crossed his arms over his chest, saying nothing.

"From now on, you stay inside the wall unless you're escorted by one of the others. I won't have you getting yourself killed."

"And how many of the others must get leave when they want to ride off for a time? I don't see you asking Lancelot to check in with anyone. But whatever you say, Arthur," he answered sarcastically. All I have to do is wait for them to get drunk, and I can walk right past them without anyone even noticing. In all honesty, it was no different than what he usually did.

"He has a point, Dayn," Lancelot spoke up. "I mean, we're gone for two days, and you manage to get yourself thrown into the garrison prison."

"Oh, so now it's my fault that the Romans locked me in a cell and beat me for two days, is it," he said hotly.

"All I'm saying is that you can't be counted on to look after yourself." Dayn opened his mouth to argue, his eyes flashing, but Arthur interrupted.

"Enough! Honestly, the two of you are behaving like children. We have more important matters to discuss."

"Like what," Cei asked, disappointed that Arthur had interrupted what had looked to be a promising fight.

"Like our next mission."

"Arthur, we are but a few days away from our freedom," Aldric began, "and it seems to me that the Romans are doing their damnedest to kill us." A thick silence settled in the room as Aldric brought up the one thing that no one had spoken of in years, their freedom. As the years had passed, and their fellow knights had died, freedom had become nothing more than a distant dream. Now that they were so close to realizing that dream, no one wanted to speak of it, as though doing so would somehow jinx it.

"What's a little Sarmatian blood to the Romans," Dayn asked sarcastically. "If we all die, they're not going to lose any sleep over it. What makes you think this time is any different from any other time?"

"Dayn, that's enough."

"Fine," he said, lacking the energy to argue with Arthur any further. He put his head down on the table, willing the room to stop spinning.

"Now, we'll ride out as soon as the horses are saddled. We have to meet up with a caravan and escort them in."

"Great. Another damn caravan," Caderyn muttered in annoyance, causing those around him to grin. Dayn snickered, but quieted when Arthur sent a stern look their way.

"This caravan carries the honored Bishop Germanus, who brings with him the papers that will grant you your freedom." The knights looked at each other, with hope beginning to blossom despite their hesitation to believe it.

"Well, what are we waitin' for," Bors asked raucously, heaving himself to his feet.

"Get your armor and food stores, and we'll meet at the stables," Arthur said in conclusion. All around the table, the knights were standing, heading for the door with an eagerness that had been all but lost to them over the years. "Dayn, a moment," Arthur said as Dayn had slowly moved to follow the others. Heaving a sigh, Dayn sat back down. It wouldn't do to fall on my ass during Arthur's lecture, now, would it?

"Yes, Arthur?"

"I want you to remain here while the rest of us ride out to meet the bishop."

"You would leave me behind," he asked incredulously.

"Dayn, you can barely stand. As lightheaded as you are, you won't be able to even stay in your saddle, much less help if it comes to a fight."

"Arthur--"

"This isn't negotiable, Dayn. Stay here and get some rest. That's an order." Dayn watched with helpless fury as Arthur left. He stood up to rush after him, and grabbed at the table as he almost lost his balance. Perhaps Arthur has a point. I hate when he's right. He sat back down, waiting until he was sure that the knights had left the wall before he slowly made his way back to his room.

Alone in the stables, Tristan was saddling his horse when he sensed someone behind him. Soft footsteps told him it was no knight. He turned, surprised to see Niamh standing hesitantly in the doorway. She smiled gently when his eyes met hers, and he nodded in acknowledgement of her presence before he turned back to his horse.

"Are you leaving?"

"Yes."

"When will you return?" He shrugged, not certain, for he did not know how far away the caravan was, nor how fast the caravan was moving. "Will it be dangerous," she asked, worry causing her brow to wrinkle.

"Perhaps." She stepped closer to him, and his movements stilled as she placed a hand on his arm.

"Take care," she said softly. She kissed his cheek, and stepped away with a sad smile. With a curt nod, Tristan turned back to his horse, puzzling over her words as he finished loading his saddlebags with the necessary supplies. As he listened to the sound of her retreating footsteps, he wondered why she cared. She barely knew him, but yet she genuinely seemed to care about his safety. He wasn't entirely comfortable knowing that she would be waiting here for his return. He wasn't used to having someone care, and he wasn't sure he liked it. Knowing there was little he could do about it right now, he pushed the image of her face out of his mind as he led the horse into the yard. Now, he just had to collect his hawk, and he would be ready to go.

Dayn sat on the wall, looking out over the rolling green hills, watching as the sun slowly cut through the mist that was an almost permanent part of the landscape. He'd spent the past day alternately sleeping as Arthur had suggested, and entertaining Hummingbird, who thought it great fun that Dayn was around for her personal enjoyment.

Dayn's mood had since shifted into melancholy as he thought of what the bishop's arrival would mean for him and the other knights. He'd been sitting there since sunrise, contemplating the changes that the coming days would bring. Things would certainly be different.

"Where the hell have you been, Dayn?" Dayn turned as Lancelot came up behind him, grabbing his shoulder.

"Get your hands off me," Dayn said hotly, shrugging off Lancelot's hand.

"Do you have any idea how long I've been searching for you?"

"Do you have any idea how little I care," he answered snidely.

"I've been looking for you everywhere."

"I didn't know you were back. Besides, I had no reason to think that anyone would be looking for me. Or did you think I'd be in some sort of trouble, and you'd have to rescue me, Lance?"

"Dayn, are you going to hold that against me, now," Lancelot asked with a exasperated sigh.

"Perhaps. Now what do you want?"

"Arthur wants to see all of us in the main hall. He sent me out to find you, because it seems you weren't where he thought you'd be."

"Ah, Arthur needs to be stirred up every now and then." With a sigh of exasperation, Lancelot turned and led the way down the stairs, knowing that Dayn would follow. Dayn's anger faded as quickly as it came, and he hurried to catch up with Lancelot. "Lighten up, Lance," he said, dropping his arm over Lancelot's shoulder in a rare moment of frivolity.

"Dayn, this is important."

"You're too solemn. I'm beginning to think you've been too long without a woman. Have you not found a wench to warm your bed lately?"

"Never that, my friend, never that," Lancelot replied with a cocky smile. "I should tell you about this pretty one I met at the tavern the night before we left to fetch the bishop…" He launched into a description of his evening that even Dayn thought was unlikely.

As they entered the main hall, Dayn took his seat beside Caderyn, and Arthur looked over to pierce Dayn with a stern look.

"Relax, Arthur. I didn't leave the wall." Only because I was too dizzy to walk straight. But Arthur doesn't need to know that. I'll just let him continue to think I'm content to do as he ordered.

"Are you feeling better, then?"

"Yes. I did as you suggested, and used most of the time you were gone to rest." Bors was passing around ale, boasting of how much he planned to consume this day. Everyone fell silent however as a priggish man came into the room followed by an older gentleman who appeared to be all too convinced of his own importance.

Dayn nudged Caderyn, a questioning look on his face as he nodded in the older man's direction.

"The bishop," he whispered. Dayn's eyes narrowed as he watched the man walk around to stand beside Arthur.

"Smug bastard," Dayn muttered under his breath.

"Yeah, you're right, but cheer up. You should be happy. Because of him, we will soon have our freedom," Caderyn said earnestly.

"Your freedom perhaps, not mine," he said grimly. Why am I even here," he thought with sudden exasperation. He stood to leave, stilling when the bishop's attention turned to him. Dayn narrowed a cold gaze at him, before he turned on his heel and left the room, his boots echoing on the stone floor. He thought about heading for the stables, the urge to ride at breakneck speed over the hills warring with the urge to see Orainne. Knowing that neither choice was a good idea, he settled for seeing the blacksmith about a new dagger, fashioned after one that he had seen Tadhg carry. Hopefully, the man would be able to recreate the weapon.

He was still there when the other knights found him shortly thereafter. Dayn turned, expecting to see them all rejoicing with their discharges, but instead, he found a somewhat subdued group, with varying degrees of confusion written on their faces.

"What is it," he asked, his gaze going from one knight to another.

"He wouldn't give the papers to us, yet," Galahad said, his voice dropping in disappointment.

"Why not?" Galahad shrugged, kicking at a pebble in the ground with the toe of his boot.

"That was some move, Dayn, you leaving like that," Gawain said with a grin. "What got into you, anyway?"

"Better yet, why don't you explain what you meant about the bishop bringing our freedom but not yours," Caderyn said suddenly. The other knights quieted as Caderyn's words penetrated. Feeling everyone's eyes on him, Dayn glanced down.

"I have two terms of service to fulfill."

"What the hell for," Bors asked as he took a swallow of from the glass he still carried.

"My father served Rome in the way of all our fathers, and it killed him. My mother…she couldn't afford to pay Rome's taxes after he died, so they sought other means of procuring payment…" Dayn paused, feeling the pain of those years coming back. "I was eight years old when they came…" His voice trailed off as the memories of that day came rushing back on him.

"We've come to collect your taxes, woman." Dayn peered out of the hut, sensing his twin brother Orren behind him.

"The Romans are here, Orren," he whispered, glaring out at the soldiers.

"Shh, Dayn, I can't hear," Orren whispered back forcefully.

"I'm sorry, but I don't have the money," Dayn's mother, Ania, was saying fearfully. "I'm working as hard as I can, but I just need more time." The soldiers laughed, jeering at her, and the captain dismounted.

"Well, I suppose we'll have to take something else instead," he said, walking towards her with a threatening demeanor. Ania stepped back, her hand going to her throat as he advanced on her. Suddenly, Orren rushed out, running to stand in front of her with Dayn at his heels.

"You leave her alone."

"Ah, these must be your little Sarmatian whelps," the soldier sneered. "Maybe we'll take them as well. They're almost old enough to be soldiers, and serve out their terms. They'll just serve a little longer than most."

"No, please, I beg you! Do not take my sons!" Seeing the effectiveness in threatening her children, the soldier leered at her.

"And what will you do for me if I leave them alone?" Ania looked down, a stoic look coming over her face as she fixed an empty gaze on the soldier's countenance.

"Anything you want."

"Mother, no," Dayn shouted. Orren pulled a dagger out of its scabbard at his waist, brandishing it threateningly at the soldier.

"I'll kill you if you touch my mother." The soldier laughed, and stepped forward with his hand raised to strike Orren. Dayn lunged forward, grabbing the soldier's arm and pulling him off balance, as Orren's blade cut a furrow into the soldier's other arm. The soldier flung Dayn off, slinging him to the ground a few feet away before drawing his sword. A bloodcurdling scream rent the air, and Dayn looked up from the ground to see his mother rush forward as the soldier pulled his sword from Orren's chest.

"Orren, no," Dayn screamed, running for his brother as Ania caught Orren's falling body. Dayn knelt, taking his brother's hand as his mother cradled Orren in her arms. Orren looked quizzically up at Dayn, his eyes betraying his confusion. "Orren, please be okay." Orren coughed, blood spilling out of his mouth, as the soldiers watched, laughing. Dayn continued to speak to his brother and it wasn't until Orren's eyes glazed over and Ania shook her head at him that Dayn knew that his brother was gone.

"That'll teach you Sarmatian dogs to argue with Rome," the soldier said with a swagger in his step and bravado in his voice. Dayn stared in mute horror as his mother sobbed over Orren's lifeless body.

"You come with us, boy. Looks like you'll be serving his term as well as your own," he said with a chuckle. And that was when the anger had taken him for the first time…that all-consuming rage, uncontrollable in its intensity…

"Well?" Bors' voice penetrated the haze of the memories, and Dayn blinked, as though coming out of a trance.

"It's a long story, and I really don't want to talk about it. Suffice it to say, I serve my term as well as my brother's term."

"But why do you serve your brother's term," Gawain asked, his face a picture of confusion. "Was he too ill to serve his term?"

"No, Gawain. They killed him before he could." His jaw clenched as he remembered the sounds of the Romans' laughter at the death of his brother.

"The Romans killed your brother? Why?"

"Because he dared to stand up to them. He was trying to protect our mother, and one of those Roman bastards killed him for it. Like an eight-year-old boy is such a threat to them," he sneered.

"So, they just ordered you to serve out his term, too?" Dayn nodded, his gaze going back to the heated steel in the blacksmith's hands, reddened by the intensity of the heat. The hammer struck against the steel, pounding out a rhythm as the smith worked the metal into the deadly shape of a curved blade.

"You know, that's how I feel sometimes--as though I'm nothing more than a piece of steel, being hammered by the Romans until I'm honed into something else. Only, I don't have any control over myself—all I can be is a weapon in the hands of someone else, never controlling, only bound to be used in whatever way someone else seems fit." No one said anything, for there was little to be said. They all felt that way, helpless and angry over the injustice of having to serve a country not their own.

"Small wonder that you hate Rome the way you do," Gawain said quietly from behind him.

"Well. Why don't we all go have a drink," Bors said, his jovial voice cutting into the tense silence. The knights all looked at one another, and as one, they all turned towards the tavern, and leaving the blacksmith to his duty, Dayn followed. Might as well enjoy the time I have left with them, because it will be over all too soon.

Dayn knew without a doubt that once the knights were gone, there would be nothing left to tie him to this place. He stayed for them, because they were his brothers, his family. The only one he had. But once they left…Dayn didn't intend to stay. I'll be damned if I'll serve another.

As the knights began passing ale around, Dayn leaned back against the wall and watched them all enjoy themselves. He'd never seen them so happy. Well, with the exception of Bors, who was always happy when there was ale to be had. Galahad, Gawain, and Tristan were alternately throwing knives at a random target, while Lancelot wagered some coins on a game of dice. Caderyn merely watched the gambling, having lost his money to Hummingbird a few nights before. Poor bastard was so drunk that night, he doesn't even remember who he lost to. Cei was merrily pursuing one of the serving wenches, who was having just as much fun trying to evade him. Aldric and Bors were more occupied in consuming their ale, and paid no mind to the other goings-on in the tavern. Dagonet was nowhere to be found, but Dayn knew he would show up eventually to drink with Bors because he always did. Dayn glanced around for Niamh, surprised when he didn't see her. As excited as she had been to see Tristan when he returned, her absence was somewhat perplexing. Oh well, she'll be along later, I'm sure.

It wasn't long before the knights' little celebration moved outside. Actually, it had gotten a little rowdy inside the tavern, and the proprietor had begged them to leave. Knowing they could just as easily drink outside as they could inside, the now slightly inebriated knights agreed. It was while they were standing outside that Bors pulled Vanora out into the center of the courtyard and drunkenly commanded her to sing. She reluctantly agreed, and silence fell over the courtyard as the purity of her voice swept over them.

Arthur arrived just moments after Vanora's song trailed off, and the knights automatically grouped in front of Arthur. Dayn held back, uncertain of what Arthur was going to say. He hesitated before he finally stepped forward, joining the other knights.

"We must leave on a final mission for Rome before our freedom can be granted," Arthur was saying as Dayn came within earshot. Most of the knights began to laugh, certain that Arthur was joking. Dayn, however, wasn't so certain. He wasn't drunk enough to miss the grave look on Arthur's face, and he elbowed Caderyn, shaking his head slightly.

"Above the wall, there lies a Roman family in need of rescue. They are trapped by Saxons," Arthur continued. "Our orders are to secure their safety."

"Let the Romans take care of their own," Bors said angrily.

"Above the wall is Woad territory," Gawain broke in, stepping forward only to catch himself as he started to weave drunkenly.

"Our duty to Rome, if it was ever a duty, is done," Galahad said, his anger a palpable thing as he practically seethed with rage. "Our pact with Rome is done."

"Every knight here has laid his life on the line for you. For you," Bors said, his own anger warming at the injustice of it all. "And instead of freedom, you want more blood? Our blood!? You think more of Roman blood than you do ours!"

"Bors, these are our orders," Arthur said, his voice belying a calmness he didn't feel. "We leave at first light and when we return, your freedom will be waiting for you. A freedom we can embrace with--"

"I'm a free man!I will choose my own fate," Bors yelled as he walked away to regain his composure.

"Yeah yeah, we're all going to die someday," Tristan spoke up carelessly. "If it's death by a Saxon hand that frightens you – stay home."

"Well if you're so eager to die, you can die right here," Galahad said, stepping forward threateningly. Lancelot grabbed Galahad, holding him back. "I've got something to live for!"

"The Romans have broken their word," Dagonet spoke up, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to the anger of Bors and Galahad. "We have the word of Arthur. That is good enough. I'll prepare." He began to walk away, but he paused as though something occurred to him. "Bors, you coming?"

"Of course I'm coming! Can't let you go on your own--you'll all get killed!"

"I'm just saying what you're all thinking," Bors yelled over his shoulder as he followed Dagonet to collect his things. Tristan followed without a word, seeming not to care either way. With a pained look, Caderyn followed them, shaking his head even as he went to pack his gear, his earlier merriment forgotten.

"And you, Gawain," Arthur asked.

"I'm with you," Gawain replied with a weary sigh. He glanced at Galahad, who remained frozen in place. "Galahad as well," he said, answering for his friend. Gawain is so drunk he probably doesn't even know what he's agreeing to, for himself or Galahad, Dayn thought. And Galahad seemed none too thrilled, staring at Gawain in angry disbelief. With a scathing laugh, he poured the wine out of the jar he was drinking from before dashing the jar to pieces on the ground at Arthur's feet. Dayn watched the two of them walk away until his attention was drawn back by Arthur speaking.

"Cei? Aldric?" Aldric nodded gravely.

"I will be there, as I always am," Aldric said, offering a small smile to Arthur. He walked past Arthur, patting him on the shoulder as he went by.

"What else can I do, but follow," Cei said, shrugging his shoulders. He too, left to pack for the journey north. And then there was only Dayn and Lancelot left. Arthur looked at these last two, his first knight and his last.

"Dayn?"

"You're my commander, Arthur, and I will follow where you lead." He looked from Arthur to Lancelot, before giving a final nod and turning on his heel. He needed to pack and get some sleep, for tomorrow would be a long day.

As Tristan followed Dagonet and Bors, he looked around once more for Niamh. She seemed to have disappeared, for no one had seen her. Despite her apparent eagerness for him to return, she had been nowhere in sight when the knights had ridden into the courtyard earlier that day. He admitted to himself that he was worried, but there was little he could do about it now. Worry was another useless emotion, Tristan thought, for it was a distraction, one he could seldom afford. But still…perhaps he would circle the garrison for signs of her.

He abruptly changed direction, heading for the aviary to fetch his hawk, for the bird might be of some use. He passed Dayn on the way, and called out to him.

"Have you seen Niamh?"

"I saw her the day all of you rode out to meet the bishop. She asked me if I could tell her how long you would be gone, but I knew nothing."

"And you haven't seen her since?"

"Nay. Are you going to look for her?"

"Yes."

"I'll come with you." Tristan nodded, and Dayn fell into step beside him. They searched the entire garrison, but Niamh was nowhere to be found. As the sky began to lighten, Dayn turned to Tristan, shaking his head. "Tristan, we know naught of where she may be, and time grows short. I'm sure we'll find her when we return. Or who knows, maybe she'll show up on her own tomorrow."

"Very well," Tristan said, knowing that Dayn was right. But still, he wondered…where was Niamh?

A/N: I've considered adding another little piece of the puzzle in regarding Dayn's past…think of it like an addition to the flashback…but I'm not sure, so if anyone would like to let me know what they think, I'd be very appreciative. More flashback or no?

chiefhow: I'm glad you liked Hummingbird…I'm going to try and pull her into the next chapter…we'll see how that goes. Niamh is giving me a little more trouble…that's the problem with subplots. It gets harder to keep integrating them back into the story. Oh well. Anyways, thanks for the review!

ModestySparrow9: I'm glad you liked the Tristan subplot. To answer your question about how Dayn could pull his cloak around him when his hands are tied—he's got shackles on his wrists, so there is a length of chain between them that gives him a little leeway in terms of movement. Also, I'm really glad that Hummingbird is coming off as cute—that's how I want her to be. I just adore her! Anyways, I'm attempting to put a funny little scene with her in the next chapter…if I can pull it off. As for her being in danger at some point, I'll have to see where it goes. Thanks for the review!

HGandRHrforever: Yeah, you can bet Dayn is going to continue to get in trouble because of his temper. Thanks for reviewing!

Squallsgurlygurl: Well, Squalls…I don't even know if you made it this far into the story…it doesn't seem like you cared too much for it, or at least for Dayn. Sorry that you're not liking him, but as he is my main character, there's really nothing I can do. Oh well…