Disclaimer: Same as before. See previous chapters.

A/N: Ok, here it is, everyone! The much awaited chapter…heck, this is my story and even I've been looking forward to it. Anyways, hope you enjoy!

Chapter 14: Fiend of Darkness, Fiend of Fire

Hummingbird hurried back to the tavern, seeing her father standing outside the door, his ale in hand, as he waited for her to reach him.

"Papa, can't I stay out a little longer?" she asked, staring up at him with pleading eyes.

"No, your mother won't be having it, Eight."

"But, I need to make sure that Niamh's okay, and that Tristan is gonna take care of her."

"What are you talking about?" he asked, looking down into Hummingbird's earnest face in confusion.

"Niamh left the tavern to see Uncle Dag, and that was hours ago, but there was trouble and she didn't come back! I helped Tristan find her though, and I found Caderyn too, because he was helping Tristan look for her too! Somebody hurt Niamh, because she looked all sad and her face was all puffy! Tristan looked mad, too, and if you ask me," she said in all seriousness, "I think Tristan is really mad about it, and whoever hurt Niamh is in big trouble. Oh, and we saw Dayn and his girl—what's her name, again?" She scarcely paused for breath before continuing, deciding that the name wasn't overly important to her story. "Dayn sure was in a hurry, Papa, and he had some funny looking blue stuff all over his face."

"Blue stuff? You mean woad?" Bors asked her, dread growing in his stomach.

"Yeah, that's what it was!"

Bors frowned as worry came over him. Woad, eh? That can't be good, he thought. Dayn must be up to something, and not a damn one of us even suspected. I better get the others—there's sure to be trouble. Someone's going to die tonight, and no doubt Dayn will be at the center of it. And if Tristan gets involved…

"Damn," he muttered, turning to go back inside the tavern. It was time to rouse the others. Paying scant attention to Hummingbird who followed at his heels as he went inside, he gulped down the last of his ale. It was going to be a long night.

"Boys," he called, "we're gonna have trouble. We gotta go!" Galahad and Gawain looked up from their table, still sober enough to respond when Bors called. Aldric stood up from his place in the corner, looking concerned.

"What is it, Bors?" Aldric asked, leaving his ale behind as he came closer.

"Dayn's up to something. What else? But Eight tells me that Niamh was hurt, and it sounds to me like Tristan may soon be in it as well. Heads are going to roll tonight, boys, and we've got to take care that no one gets caught."

"We need to find Lancelot." Gawain said, coming to his feet with a weary sigh. "We're probably going to need him. Has anyone seen him?" He hoped that Lancelot, wherever he was, was sober enough to do some good.

"I don't think anyone's seen him since he took off," Galahad answered. "He was pretty upset when Arthur told him he was staying here. Can't say that I blame him though, what with the Saxons practically a handbreadth away—it's suicide to stay here."

"Gawain's right," Aldric said, rubbing his jaw. "We've got to find him."

"I can help," Hummingbird piped up, jumping up and down to catch the knights' attention. Galahad smiled as Bors turned in surprise to see his daughter standing on a chair behind him.

"I thought I told you to go to bed. Your mother's going to have both our hides if you don't get yourself home. Go on, now!"

"But, I'm good at finding things! I found Niamh, didn't I? And Caderyn, too!" she pleaded, staring at her father with hopeful eyes.

"No. You're going to bed. It's late—you should have been in bed hours ago," he answered, lifting her up from the chair. Kissing her forehead, he set her down and nudged her towards the door. "G'night, Eight," he said gruffly. "And I'd better not find you out of bed until morning!" he called out as she slowly trudged for the door.

Bors followed her to the door, watching her as she trudged outside. Aldric started to speak, but Bors held up a hand, halting him.

"Wait for it," Bors mumbled to the others, watching as Hummingbird furtively glanced back to see if he was watching. "BED, NOW," he yelled, his loud voice reverberating across the courtyard. He smiled as he watched her change direction, finally heading for home, and he turned back to the three men. "What can I say? She's just like me."

"That she is, Bors," Gawain said with a smile. "No one would dispute that. Now, Number Ten…I'm sure Lancelot would argue that one with you…"

"Ah, shut it, Gawain! Speaking of ol' Lancey, where is he?"

"That's what we were discussing. We need to find him, and we don't have a lot of time. Not if I know Dayn. And if Hummingbird was right, and Tristan decides to get involved, well…I don't have to tell you how much blood may be shed this night."


In another tavern, a considerable distance from the first, Lancelot sat at a table in the corner, alone and miserable. He swirled the ale in his mug around, staring into its amber depths despairingly. He still couldn't believe that Arthur wasn't going to come with them. He'd always known that one day, they would take separate paths. But he was supposed to go to Rome. I could have visited him there. If he stays here, it will be the death of him. He can't hope to fight the Saxons on the morrow and survive. They're hopelessly outnumbered. Anguish ate at him as he thought about what tomorrow would bring. Dayn would stay, for he would serve no other Roman than Arthur, and without a proper discharge, he could never travel the breadth of the Roman Empire. No, Dayn would remain in Britain for the rest of his life, Lancelot knew. And the others? No doubt they would scatter once they reached Sarmatia, and Lancelot thought it doubtful that he would ever see them again.

He felt his throat tighten with grief, feeling as though everything was crashing down around him. Arthur had been his best friend, his brother, for fifteen years, but not only that, he was all that Lancelot knew. This life, fighting at Arthur's side, was the only one he knew, and now it was coming to an abrupt end. It would have been alright if Arthur was coming with us, but now he's going to stay here on this hellhole of an island and I'll be alone. And it was that that frightened Lancelot more than anything. He didn't fear death, he feared being alone. Loneliness ate at him as thought of what the future would bring.

Why can't things just stay as they are? he thought angrily, slamming his fist down on the table. He knew it was a child's wish, with no hope of coming true, but he wished it nonetheless. The joy of being free from Roman control paled at the thought of leaving Arthur behind to face what would surely be his death. Why does he have to be so damn noble?

Suddenly, the door of the tavern burst open and Aldric, Bors, Gawain, and Galahad came in, interrupting Lancelot's internal rant.

"Lancelot, we need you—there's trouble stirring." Lancelot listened intently as Bors filled him in. Shit, we've got to find Dayn. For sure, Tristan can take care of himself, but Dayn…no, he's bound to find trouble.

"We've got to take care of things without Arthur finding out," Gawain said, his eyes dark with worry. "It would place him in an awkward position if Dayn were to be caught. There'd be no way for Arthur to get him out of it. Especially if dead bodies start showing up, which, knowing Dayn, is entirely possible."

"Does anyone know what Dayn may have planned?" Lancelot asked.

"Hell no, none of us even suspected he was up to something ," Bors said, answering for all of them.

"Damn." Lancelot led the way out of the tavern, knowing that they had to find Dayn before the Romans caught on, or they would have a hard time of it, and Dayn would surely be in a mountain of trouble.


From the shadows of a rooftop, Dayn watched Bishop Germanius enter Arthur's quarters. Arthur had given up his own room for the pompous bastard, but it suited Dayn's purposes well, because now he knew exactly where to find the man.

Spotting several guards walking below, Dayn ducked back down into the shadows, knowing that it was too soon for him to be seen. If they see me…But the darkness kept its secrets, obscuring him from Roman eyes. The night worked well to conceal him, and Dayn welcomed the darkness, reveling in its ability to disguise and hide. His eyes glowed eerily in the moonlight, as though lit from within by a fiery radiance. His rage was an almost tangible thing, smoldering inside him like embers of a flame, simply biding its time until it could grow into a conflagration. And grow it would…

An hour passed, and still Dayn waited. Waited for the perfect time. And finally, everything stilled as the night settled upon the garrison and its surroundings. With a smile, Dayn slowly slid away from the edge of the rooftop, jumping to the ground without a sound. Slipping around the back of the building he'd been waiting on, he grabbed a low burning torch from the wall. I think it needs a little oil, he thought with a sudden grin. He dipped into the oil that had been placed nearby, adding fuel to the torch until it burned with bright intensity. He started to replace the oil where he'd found it, when a thought suddenly occurred to him. The flame of the torch was reflected in his eyes as he walked around the building and sprinted to Arthur's quarters, coming up under the window of Arthur's room.

Hefting the urn of oil in his hand, he slowly dribbled it onto the window sill with a steady hand, watching as it spilled down the interior of the wall, pooling on the floor. From there, the oil slowly began to spread out from the window, and Dayn gave it another moment to ooze toward the center of the room. And then with a cold smile, Dayn heaved the torch into the open window, watching in morbid fascination as the flames caught on the spilled oil and spread. I hope Arthur isn't attached to anything in his quarters. Dayn spared a moment to feel guilty about destroying Arthur's room before he shrugged indifferently. We all have to make sacrifices. Besides, it's for a good cause, he thought with a smile. Dayn hurried around the side of the building, and crouched down at the side of Arthur's door to wait once more. It shouldn't be long now, he thought with dark amusement. Fire works swiftly. He knew what was happening inside, the fire devouring everything in its path, sparing nothing as the flames burned, burned like the fire that was aflame within him, and Dayn exulted in it, glad to feel something other than the deep, chilling cold that had pervaded him. I want this one all to myself, Nemhain. I want to remember this kill.

As he addressed the goddess, Dayn heard the sound he'd been waiting for. The sound of the door opening. The bishop hurried outside, coughing and choking as he started to yell for help. No help will come for you this night, Dayn thought with a grim smile. Standing, he lunged for the bishop, capturing him in a choke-hold around the throat, his sword clenched firmly in his free hand.

"What is the meaning of this? Unhand me at once!" the bishop said angrily. Dayn sneered at his arrogance, tightening his grip on the bishop's neck.

"The meaning of this, Bishop? The meaning is simple. You caused the death of one of my brothers, and now you must pay the price."

"You will be executed for this treason," the bishop shouted, trying to yell over the growing roar of the fire that was spilling out of the open door.

"Perhaps. But you won't be alive to see it," he said. With a sharp thrust, he plunged his sword into the bishop's left flank, his eyes burning with a fiery rage as he felt the bishop writhing with pain as the sword drove into him. He released the bishop, watching as the man slowly slid off the end of his blade as he cried out in agony.

Grabbing the bishop by the scruff of his collar, Dayn dragged the bishop to the pen near the stables, dropping him in the muck with a smirk. "I've always been fond of irony, Bishop. Know this: you died on a Sarmatian blade, and you died among the swine of your own kind." He listened to the bishop's impassioned pleas with indifference, watching in grim satisfaction as the blood mixed with the mud and the shit of the pig pen.

He watched, waiting for the bishop's movements to still, unwilling to leave until he knew it was done. And finally, the bishop ceased to move, and Dayn knew it was finished.

"May you be blessed in your next life, Cei," he murmured, his eyes burning with unshed tears. He felt a modicum of peace steal through him, like a drop of water, quenching the fiery rage that had been burning in his soul since Cei's death.

Hearing yells nearby, he abandoned the body and took off into the shadows, allowing the smoke from the nearby fire to mask his movements from any roving eye. Someone will surely notice the absence of the illustrious Bishop, and it won't be long before they find him. No doubt I'll be the first suspect. It was time to get Orainne and disappear.

Ducking between two buildings, he almost tripped over Tristan who was crouched at the mouth of the alley, examining tracks in the dirt. Tristan's hand immediately went to his dagger, and Dayn hurriedly pushed the hood of his cloak back from his face.

"It's me, Tristan," Dayn said softly, holding his hands out from his body so that Tristan wouldn't accidentally stab him.

"Ah. Fleeing the scene of the crime?" Tristan asked, nodding in the direction of the yelling and screaming that Dayn had left behind. Dayn grinned, shrugging his shoulders innocently as though to say, "Who, me?"

Tristan shook his head and turned back to the mess of tracks on the ground. Dayn knelt down next to him, peering at the ground intently.

"By the way, the blue paintit suits you," Tristan said suddenly, his eyes never leaving the ground as he made the observation. Dayn grinned, considering trying to wipe some of it off, but deciding just as quickly not to. He'd need it soon enough, if he had to leave the garrison in a hurry.

"So, who are you tracking?" Dayn asked, glancing at the scout curiously.

"The captain who attacked Niamh."

"Are you going to kill him?"

"What do you think?" Tristan asked, his voice betraying nothing.

"Well, I think you are…but if you're not, can I do it?"

"I'm going to take care of it personally. But I have to find him first."

"You're the best tracker I knowwhat's the problem?"

"The tracks are all over the place, and I think the bastard is circling around," Tristan answered shortly. Dayn squinted, studying the tracks in the dim light before he pointed to a set of tracks.

"This is Orainne's tread, here. I know it well."

"What was she doing here? He didn't attack her as well, did he?"

"No. She saw him, stopped him from harming Niamh any further…she cut his cheek for you, so you can recognize the bastard when you see him."

"Clever of her," Tristan said, with a nod of appreciation. Dayn stood up again, pacing impatiently as Tristan continued to study the tracks intently.

"Dayn, these tracks…the Roman is following her," Tristan said, looking up at Dayn suddenly.

"What are you saying?"

"The Roman followed Orainne's footsteps."

"But, if he followed her, then…he must have followed us back to Niamh!" The two knights broke into a run, both of them rushing for Tristan's quarters with swords drawn.

"Dayn, if he's there—he's mine," Tristan said as they ran. Dayn nodded, disappointed that he wouldn't get a chance to take on the Roman. But he knew well enough that it was Tristan's kill, and he wouldn't stand in his way.

And then a piercing scream rent the air, and Dayn felt his blood run cold. Orainne!


Lancelot was very close to throwing up his hands in surrender.

"We're never going to find him," he stated bluntly. "This is impossible. It would serve him right if he got caught."

"Too bad Tristan's right in the thick of it, or we could get him to track Dayn for us," Galahad said, shaking his head ruefully.

"Or Caderyn. He usually knows where to find Dayn," Aldric added, his eyes searching the darkness for any sign of the errant young knight.

"Yes, well, if Eight was telling the truth—and there's no guarantee, mind you—then Caderyn is with Niamh and Orainne in Tristan's room. So that's no help," Bors said.

"Wait, did you just say Caderyn is with the women in Tristan's room?" Lancelot asked incredulously.

"Yeah. What, is that important?"

"Well, there's our solution, boys. We simply need to wait with Caderyn in Tristan's room. Dayn won't leave Orainne behind."

"But suppose he's caught before he returns for her, what then?" Gawain asked.

"Just pray to your gods that that doesn't happen, because there's no help for it," Lancelot replied. "We don't have a lot of options here. And besides, it will be a lot more fun to sit with the women than search the garrison for Dayn," he said with a smirk.

As they began to circle back around for Tristan's room, Lancelot suddenly came to a halt, and the others turned back questioningly.

"What is it?" Aldric asked.

"Do you smell smoke?" Lancelot asked the others. He looked up at the sky, feeling a sense of unease blossom as he saw the tendrils of smoke rising into the air. Shit.


"That boy's going to be the death of us all," Aldric said as they broke into a run.

Dayn put on a burst of speed, adrenaline coursing through him as fear for Orainne lent him speed. Tristan kept pace with him, not letting on that he, too, was worried.

When they reached Tristan's room, Dayn came to a sudden stop in the doorway, his heart freezing in his chest. Tristan pushed past Dayn, his eyes immediately darkening as took in the sight before him. Caderyn lay slumped against the wall, blood pooling on the floor around him, his sword lying a few feet from his outstretched hand. Niamh was struggling with a man on the bed, fighting to push him off of her. The man was one that Tristan recognized, but even if he hadn't known him on sight, the cut on his cheek was stark against the paleness of his features.

Tristan strode briskly over to the man, pulling him off Niamh and driving his sword in under the man's armor, feeling a deep satisfaction as the man stiffened, screaming in agony.

Jerking the man closer, Tristan said in a quiet, deadly tone, "I changed my mind. I won't bother making your death look like an accident. I want the pleasure of watching you bleed."

Dayn took a moment to appreciate Tristan's wrath before he ran for Caderyn, worried about his sickly color and the amount of blood on the floor.

"Cade? Cade, answer me," Dayn said worriedly. Glancing around for something to staunch the bleeding, he suddenly went cold. "Where's Orainne?"

Tristan turned to look at Dayn, seeing the absolute panic on Dayn's face. Pulling his sword out of the Roman, he dropped the captain on the floor with a cold look before he took a step toward Caderyn and Dayn. As much as he wanted to take Niamh into his arms, she wasn't physically hurt. But Caderyn, on the other hand, looked half-dead. Grabbing a discarded blanket from the bed, he rushed over to them, pressing the blanket down on the alarming gash in Caderyn's side, eliciting a groan from the injured knight.

"Oh, goddess, they took her, Dayn," Niamh said, a sob escaping as she sat on the bed, hugging her knees to her chest.

"What? Who took her, Niamh?" Dayn demanded, turning to face her.

"Roman soldiers. The captain told them to take her, that he'd come for her later. Caderyn tried to stop them, but one of them got behind him…" she said, her voice breaking as she was overcome with sobs. "You have to find her, Dayn."

Dayn ran for the door, colliding with Lancelot who was just coming in.

"Whoa, hold it there, Dayn," Lancelot said, grabbing him. The other knights pushed into the room, Aldric and Galahad hurrying over to help Tristan with Caderyn while Lancelot pulled Dayn off to the side, holding on to his arm. "Gods, Dayn, you stink—what have you been doing?" he asked, distracted by the thick, cloying scent of oil emanating from Dayn.

"Let go, Lance!" Dayn exclaimed, not willing to be distracted. "I have to find Orainne—those Roman bastards took her!"

"Dayn, whatever it was that you did, you've stirred up a hornet's nest of trouble out there. If you go out there now, you're only going to get yourself thrown in the garrison prison."

"Lance, none of that matters! I have to get Orainne!"

"No, you need to get out of here. Look, let us take care of getting Orainne while you get out of the garrison."

"But, I can't—"

"Dayn, you have to trust me," Lancelot said, looking the young knight in the eye. "I'll bring her to you myself. We'll meet you at the edge of the forest—wait for us there." Dayn looked at Lance, letting him see the fear and worry in his eyes before he gave a nod. He started for the door, but called back to Tristan. Tristan left Aldric and Gawain to care for Caderyn, and came over to Dayn.

"Tristan, when they find the body, tell them I did it," Dayn told him in a quiet tone.

"No. It was my kill. I will take responsibility for it."

"Tristan, you have your freedom. If you take the blame, you'll either die or be pursued for the rest of your life. You have to travel the breadth of the entire Roman Empire to get home—you'd never make it! I've killed enough Romans that one more won't matter. After tonight, I'm gone anyway—being blamed for one more death won't matter for me." Dayn paused, letting the words sink in before he continued. "I'll never leave this island, Tristan. My life is here, now, but you…you have to be free. You've waited fifteen years to return home. Don't ruin your chance, not for them."

Dayn could see the regret on Tristan's face and knew the older knight didn't like putting the blame on Dayn. But Dayn knew the Romans would never let Tristan make it home if they knew the truth.

"Tristan, who else will care for Niamh, if you aren't free?" Dayn asked, using the only argument that he knew would convince Tristan. Tristan glanced down, before he finally agreed. Dayn gripped his forearm in farewell, knowing that this could be the last time he ever saw the knights. "Tell the others farewell for me, and take care of Caderyn. Perhaps we will meet again someday." Dayn watched Tristan return to the others before he headed for the door.

"Take care of it, Lance," he said quietly as he passed. Lance nodded in return, and Dayn pulled the hood of his cloak up once more, slipping outside and melting back into the darkness.

Lancelot hurried over to the others who were gathered around Caderyn worriedly.

"Is he alright?" Lancelot asked, worry creeping into his voice.

"He's lost a lot of blood," Tristan said. "We've got to get him to a healer."

"Bors, you and Gawain are with me—we have to find Orainne. Aldric, help Tristan get Caderyn to the healer. Take Niamh with you. Galahad, find Jols and get him to help you get the captain's body out of here. Dump it somewhere, anywhere, just as long as it's out of here."

Everyone immediately went into action, Aldric and Tristan bundling Caderyn up, using a blanket as a makeshift stretcher, and moving quickly to get him to a healer. Galahad shot out the door to look for Jols, and Lancelot led the way to look for Orainne, Bors and Gawain behind them.

"We have to find her, boys. Dayn's counting on us."


Worry and fear ate at Dayn as he slipped once more into the darkness of the night, heading quickly for the wall where he'd left Brina saddled and ready to ride. If they've killed Orainne, not even the gods will be able to protect them, he thought darkly, feeling the familiar chill once more invading his soul. Spotting a number of Roman soldiers passing by, Dayn crouched behind a stack of barrels, waiting for them to pass. He peeked around the side, checking for stragglers when a firm hand grasped him by the shoulder and turned him around. He went for his sword only to feel relief when he saw that it was Arthur.

"Dayn, what are you doing?" Arthur asked, more than a little suspicious as a result of the chaos that was overtaking the garrison as well as Dayn's prowling behavior. Dayn stood up from his crouch to face Arthur, and looking at him, Dayn was suddenly reminded of the first time he'd seen Arthur. Things were so simple then. Arthur had all the answers, and I never doubted him, not for a moment. But now, it's all complicated, and now I see what I didn't see when I was small. Arthur is but a man who struggles and toils just like the rest of us. How Dayn wished he was small again, with a child's belief that Arthur could make everything alright.

"Arthur. Whatever happens tonight, know this—I will follow you, no matter the cost. When tomorrow arrives, I will be at your side." Confusion shone in Arthur's eyes, and something about Dayn's voice told Arthur that something big had happened, and whatever it was, it was bad.

"Dayn," Arthur began, but Dayn shook his head, backing slowly away.

"I'm sorry, Arthur. I can't stay any longer," he said, giving Arthur a regretful smile.

Arthur watched as Dayn disappeared into the shadows, and wondered just what Dayn had gotten himself into this time. He'd been with Guenevere up on the wall, still watching the Saxons gather, when shouts of fire and murder had begun to echo around the garrison, and he'd come down to investigate.

Not for the first time, Arthur felt as though a heavy burden was weighing down on him, the responsibility of so many lives, of his men, and of these people, resting on his shoulders. With a deep sigh, he turned back to face the pandemonium that had engulfed the garrison. There was no telling what sort of mess Dayn had left behind.


With Tristan busy with Caderyn and Niamh, it fell to Gawain to help Lancelot track the soldiers who had taken Orainne. They finally traced the smudged tracks to a secluded section of the barracks, and as the knights gathered outside the last door, Lancelot looked at the others, the gravity of the situation filling his eyes with the weight of what they had to do.

"Knights, we can afford no mistakes, here." He kicked the door open, his swords clenched tightly in each hand. He breathed a quick sigh of relief when he saw Orainne huddling on the floor in the center of the room as six Roman soldiers taunted her. It's probably a good thing that she doesn't know enough Latin to understand what they're saying to her, he thought wryly.She looked scared, but she was unhurt as far as Lancelot could see. He'd been worried that he'd find her too late, and that Dayn would get himself killed going after the bastards.

The soldiers had looked up when the door burst open, and they now drew their swords, drawing closer to Orainne, subtly threatening to use her against the knights if they made a move.

"Gentlemen—and I use the term loosely," Lancelot began, "let's think this through, shall we? Now, it's obvious that you outnumber us two to one, but we all know who has the greater skill here. Now we could fight for the girl, but someone's going to come out on the losing side—who do you think it will be, hmm?" The soldiers looked at one another nervously, gripping their swords in sweaty hands. "Look, your captain is already dead. There's no reason to take this any further. So…what's it going to be, gentlemen?"

After a moment's hesitation, one of them stepped back. "Take her, then." One of the Romans looked as though he'd argue, and Lancelot tightened his grip on his sword. But the Roman changed his mind, and stepped back, and the other four soldiers followed suit. Seeing that she was no longer surrounded, Orainne jumped up and ran for Lancelot, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug. His eyes widened at the sudden display, and he sheathed one of his swords, freeing up one hand to pat her on the back awkwardly.

"Thank you, Lancelot," she said in heavily accented Latin, squeezing him gratefully.

"Does this mean you're not afraid of me anymore?" he asked with a smile. She looked at him quizzically, and he shook his head, knowing that she didn't understand. "Never mind. Come on, I have to get you to Dayn." Whether she understood what he said or not, she caught his meaning, perking up at the sound of Dayn's name. Pushing her behind him, Lancelot slowly retreated from the room, his eyes never leaving the Romans. Gawain and Bors remained in the door, allowing Lancelot to get out of the room with Orainne before they too backed out. The knights knew all too well of Roman treachery, and none of them would dare turn their backs on Romans.

The three knights formed a protective barrier around Orainne as they hurried to the stables. Not bothering to wake any of the stable boys, Lancelot made quick work of saddling his horse, and lifted Orainne into the saddle.

"It's best if I go alone," Lancelot said, turning to Gawain and Bors.

"Have you lost your mind?" Gawain asked incredulously. "The entire Saxon army is outside these walls, and you want to ride out alone?"

"One man is less noticeable than three, Gawain. Now, go! See to Caderyn, and if Arthur asks any questions, tell him that I'm with some wench. He won't question you." Pulling himself up into the saddle behind Orainne, he took the reins and spurred his horse, charging out of the stable. They had precious little time to get outside the Wall before the remainder of the Roman forces left at the garrison tightened their defenses against the Saxon threat.

Holding on to Orainne, Lancelot was struck by how small and seemingly frail she was. She can't be more than sixteen years old or so, he thought. Small wonder that Dayn is so protective of her. He's lucky to have her. Even if she is a Woad. Orainne's newfound trust in him had given him pause, and he found that the trust was twofold. I never thought I would find myself trusting a Woad, he thought with a smile.

Leaving the wall behind, Lancelot put a finger to his lips, cautioning Orainne without words to be silent. She nodded, pulling her cloak tighter around her, frightened that they may be discovered by Saxons. They were taking a huge gamble, and they could be caught at any minute. Finally, they left the Saxon lines behind and reached the trees, and Lancelot looked around, his eyes scanning the trees, searching.

"Dayn," he called out softly. A rustle in the brush some feet away caught his attention, and Dayn stepped out of the trees, hurrying towards them. Orainne squirmed, trying to get down, and Lancelot lowered her to the ground with a smile, watching the young girl run for Dayn. Dayn caught her up in his arms, spinning her around before kissing her deeply. He wasn't sure how long he held her there, his mouth on hers, before he heard someone clearing their throat.

He pulled away reluctantly to see Lancelot smiling down at him from his saddle. Looking up at him, Dayn smiled gratefully up at him.

"I can never repay you for this, Lance."

"Oh, I don't know about that. I'm sure I can think of something," Lancelot replied with a grin. "Say, you wouldn't happen to know of any available Woad women, do you?"

"Available Woad women, yes. One that doesn't want to slit your throat for being a Sarmatian, probably not. But I'll see what I can do," Dayn answered with a grin. Lancelot turned his horse to head back for the garrison, but Dayn stopped him by grabbing his horse by the bridle. "Lance, maybe you should come with us tonight. I imagine things are quite messy inside the garrison by now."

"Dayn, you just implied that there are an awful lot of Woads who would love to see me dead, and now you want me to stay with you in their midst?"

"No one will harm you, I swear it. I trusted you with all that matters to me in this world. Now it's time for you to trust me." Lancelot met his gaze and considered his words before finally acquiescing.

"Very well, Dayn. But I expect you to help me find that woman you mentioned."

"Of course," Dayn said with a smile. "I'm sure Orainne can point to a few who would find you quite attractive." Dayn led Orainne to the trees where Brina waited patiently, and he lifted her onto the saddle, before climbing up behind her. "Follow me closely, Lance. I wouldn't want you to get lost." With a last grin at Lancelot, he led the way through the darkness to where the Woads were gathering among Orainne's tribe, preparing for tomorrow's battle.


A/N: I'm not sure about placement in relation to the Wall in these scenes, so I'm just doing what I want. If anyone thought it strange, sorry, but just go with it. Ok, so here's to all my reviewers! These are kind of long, but I figure, if you guys take the time to review, it's only right to take the time to respond back to you. And I have fun doing it, so if they're a little long, who cares? You guys are great!

ModestySparrow9: Hope you liked Hummingbird's scenes here as well! I've really grown fond of her, so I tried to get her in a bit more. I won't have much opportunity to put her in anymore, so I did what I could with this chapter. She might pop up again in the epilogue though.

Aelia O'Hession: Yes, Hummingbird is a cutie, isn't she? She doesn't serve much purpose, and they say you shouldn't have characters in a story if they don't have a purpose, but I figured, what the heck? She's cute, and funny, so I'm putting her in anyway. Dagonet, I'm sorry to say, won't make it to the final battle, but he'll be in the epilogue chapter for sure, so don't worry! By the way, I'm eagerly looking forward to the next chapter of your story, so please update soon!

mimishell: I know you live just down the hall from me, and I've already thanked you for sending me a review, but I'm going to thank you here as well. So…thanks! Aren't you pleased to know that I'm almost done with this one, and will soon devote more time to the Éomer fanfic that's been on the backburner for ages? Of course, there's that prequel story for Dayn that I wanted to write…but that'll only be a one-shot as far as I know. Anyways, if you'd like to send me another review, that would be great! Hint, hint!

MonDieu666: Hey, glad you reviewed. Hope you liked Tristan in this chapter as well. I've tried to be fairer and devote a little more story space to him. I managed to pull in the other knights a bit more than usual as well. Anyways, review if you can!

abeldina: So, how did you like Tristan's revenge? I had hoped to draw it out a little more, but seeing as how Caderyn was bleeding to death, Tristan's opportunity was cut short. But I think it was still cool, despite how quick it was. In some sense, though, Tristan really isn't one to toy with his "victims" like Dayn is. Dayn taunts, whereas Tristan is about the kill. Emotions don't tend to enter into it much for Tristan. Anyways, I digress…thanks for reviewing for me!

chiefhow: I'm sure Tristan appreciates the offer of chocolate, but I think he would have killed the captain for free. Thanks for the compliments, by the way—it made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. And yes, I do put Niamh through a lot, don't I? But it'll come out okay in the end for her, so worry not! Dayn fans, including myself, have come to expect those scary moments from him, and I do so enjoy writing them. I like writing characters like Dayn—he's so uninhibited. He just does what he wants, without a thought for the consequences. I happen to think his revenge was a lot cooler than Tristan's, but then, Dayn is more into toying with those he kills than Tristan is. See my note to abeldina. Anyways, thanks so much for reviewing. I always appreciate hearing from you.

Camreyn: It's always so entertaining to read your reviews. You're the only person I know of who reviews as they're reading, and it makes for a really entertaining review. Anyways, you're the only one who commented on the burial scene, and for that alone, I thank you. I really liked that scene, and I thought it was very fitting for Cei. I'm glad that you liked the Niamh scenes, too. I think everyone was getting especially curious about it. And yep, you saw that coming, didn't you—the attack on her, I mean. The reason that Orainne didn't just kill the captain herself goes back to the fact that it's just not in her nature to kill someone. She would have if the captain had forced her hand, but she knew that Tristan would take care of it. Granted, it would have saved them a lot of trouble in the long run if she had killed him, but then, that wouldn't make for as interesting a story, would it? Anyways, as one of my Hummingbird fans, I hope you liked her scenes here. She'll pop up again in the epilogue for sure, but probably not in the next chapter. Thanks for reviewing!