"Parry. No. Like this… No." Lancelot sighed with despair.

"I'll never get this." Bryanne moaned, lowering her sword.

"Of course you will. Just… feel it." He raised his sword in his fighting stance. "You did it well enough once." He jibed. Bryanne growled as he attacked. Left, right, left, thrust, up, down, parry, block, turn. Bryanne's sword clattered to the ground, and Lancelot stepped back.

"I can't do it." She snapped, snatching her blade back up.

"Yes. You. Can." Lancelot sighed through gritted teeth. "What helped you the last time?"

"They were Romans?" She curled her lip in sarcastic confusion. He laughed.

"Right. And for what reason were you fighting?"

"For Genna."

"Right. So, think of Genna." He held his sword up. "Again." He instructed. She closed her eyes for a second, took a deep breath and opened them.

"Ready." He came at her suddenly, dancing forward on one foot. Her sword met his, metal biting metal with a resounding crash. They turned and fought, attacking, defending, back and forth, back and forth. Beads of sweat showed in his forehead and strands of auburn hair stuck to her temples. Back and forth, back and forth, relentlessly trying to find a gap – an opening to get the upper hand. The blades clanged together, with such force it made their hands sting, and forced it into a cross shape between them.

"Not bad." He said, raising his eyebrows. She twitched one back, and he span his sword to break the lock. Darting forward, he reached out a foot and sent her sprawling, the tip of his blade at her throat. She glared up at him.

"No fair." He moved his sword and proffered a hand instead. She took it and he hauled her to her feet.

"Romans don't fight fair." He stepped back, raising his hands into the fighting stance once more. "Again." Her chest was heaving, and she looked tired.

"Not again. Not now. Later." She begged, and he dropped his sword, kissing her. "Thank you." She whispered. Without warning, her blade sang through the air, and he found himself flat on his back, sword pointing down at him. She laughed raucously as he clambered back up.

"Romans won't fall for that, you know."

"Ah, but you will." He harrumphed in reply. "Come on let's eat." She hooked her arm in his…

Desra stamped a foot impatiently. Genna was wrapped warmly and hung in a bag-like hammock against Bryanne's chest. Her wool cloak was pulled tightly about her as she stood in the courtyard, her breath coming out in cold clouds, the pendant still about her neck. The knights stood awkwardly, and Lorella looked genuinely heartbroken.

"I'll miss her." She told Bryanne gravely, and Genna chirped:

"Lorla." At the sound of her voice. The Sarmatian mother smiled wanly. Bors leant over and hugged Bryanne.

"I'll miss the little thing too. She's quite a character with the boys." He confided. Bryanne suddenly felt very guilty. One by one, the knights said goodbye, each touching a thumb to Genna's forehead in a gesture of farewell. At last, Lancelot stepped forward, and kissed her, before carefully lifting Genna from her carrier.

"Hey there, little girl." He said, hugging her close. Genna chortled and clutched at the edge of his coat, staring up at him through wide, brown eyes. "You stay safe. And keep Anne safe too."

"Lan-low." Genna murmured as she was handed back to Bryanne. Lancelot felt a painful tug at his heard. He looked at Bryanne.

"You don't –"

"I know. I should. I must." She replied, cupping his cheek in a hand and kissing him carefully before mounting Desra and settling Genna into her carrier. She gathered the reins in her hand, and Desra neighed loudly. Some of the knights managed a soft laugh. He opened his mouth to say something, but Bryanne interrupted. "I'll be safe. I'll avoid the Romans." It was a familiar mantra, and it brought a smile to his lips.

"Just. Come back soon."

"I'll be gone four days." Bryanne reminded him. "No more, no less." He nodded, as she bent down in the saddle and kissed him again. It was a lingering kiss, a promise of more to come… She galloped from the barracks and down the road heading South. The servant had given her careful directions, and it didn't take her long to find the trail that would lead her to the hidden village and Genna's future…

Arthur summoned the knights, his face tight, pale and grave, to the hall. They stood at their places, but he didn't ask them to sit.

"The Romans have come across a pocket of some of the rebel woads." He told them, without issuing a greeting. Lancelot shared a look with the other knights. In the two days Bryanne had gone, there had been word of more rebel woads South of the Wall. But, as yet, they had not been called. "The legion who found it has asked for our help. They'll attack tomorrow, and we will be required to secure the area and the passage home."

"When do we leave?" Dagonet asked.

"Within the hour." The knights nodded, and left to prepare. As Lancelot buckled his breastplate, he had an overwhelming sense of something to come. Perhaps foreboding, perhaps anticipation. He shrugged it off, he was not one for superstitions.

They rode directly South, before cutting in an Easterly direction from the road, and soon entered a thick forest with low-hanging trees. The weak Autumnal sun was blocked out and it became gloomy. Arthur led them with confidence, until they came upon a group of Roman guards.

"Who's there?" Called one, holding up his weapon.

"Arthur, from the Great Wall, and his knights." They rode up to the guards, who visibly relaxed.

"Thank God. We thought you were woads."

"Haven't you attacked yet? It's gone noon." Arthur asked, dismounting.

"Of course, but it seemed they were prepared for an attack. Some of them ran whilst others stayed and defended. The battle's still going on now." He led them up a small rise and through a thicket of trees. They heard the battle before they saw the village in a hollow clearing. The feeling of something to come deepened in Lancelot.

Parry, thrust, turn, block… The words span into a blur and she forgot everything she had been taught. She heard heavy footsteps behind her, and Bryanne span, swinging her sword up as hard as she could. She cleaved the Roman's face in two. She turned back, ready for her next opponent, with leaden arms and a distorted mind. Block, twist, slice… The blow struck her at her right hip and dragged itself up diagonally across her body to her left breast. Pain seared through her entire body, shuddering and coursing through every vein. She looked down to see the great rent in her tunic fill with blood. She stumbled backwards.

They were walking down the slope towards the battle, weapons drawn, when he saw it. Gawain grabbed Lancelot's arm.

"Lancelot… isn't that…" He needn't finish.

"Desra!" Lancelot cried. The chestnut mare lay on her side, still, tongue lolling lifelessly from her mouth, her eyes glazed over. Sword cuts riddled her cheeks and chest and legs. She was dead. Realisation dawned. This was the village… "NO!" Lancelot screamed, running down the slope, leaping over the fronds of dead bracken.

"LANCELOT!" Arthur shouted, and ran after the Sarmatian knight, heart pounding. The others followed, leaving the Roman guard bewildered. He tore through the huts, searching. He rounded a corner as Bryanne fell backwards, sword slipping from her hand, blood pouring in rivers down her.

"BRYANNE!"

She heard her name called by a familiar voice, but she couldn't believe it. Her mind was clouded, her vision fading. She saw the Roman lift his sword for the last time, but stop, the glinting silver metal suspended above her. Do it… Just finish it. She begged silently, feeling the salty taste of blood in her mouth. Her hands felt limp and useless. She couldn't fight if she tried.

"Bryanne… Anne."

"Lancelot?" Her vision cleared. He was there, he was kneeling beside her and the Roman stepped away. He cradled her, each movement rippling agony through her, but she ignored it. He was here… he was with her. "Lancelot, how did they find it?"

"I… I don't know."

"And Genna? Is she..?"

"She's gone. She's safe." He whispered. "Come on, get up, we'll take you home." Bryanne could hear his voice crack.

"No." She whispered.

"Yes."

"No. You can't save me this time."

"I can."

"I can't come with you. Our journeys go different ways."

"That's not true. I can't live without you. I believe!"

"I believe too." She murmured.

"I don't know what do to do if you're not with me."

"When the time comes, you'll know what to do. Remember your father's words." She took a deep breath, trying to keep death at bay for a last moment with him. "I believe in you. I love you, my Sarmatian wolf." She blinked hazily at him.

"Then stay! Don't leave me, don't…" A shudder rippled through her, and her head dropped back on her neck, and he felt her sag in his arms. "NO! Don't! Don't leave me! Don't!" He cried, the hot tears stinging his eyes. "I believe in you…" He sobbed.

"Lancelot." He felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. Arthur. "Lancelot, she's gone."

"No." He hissed through gritted teeth. "We can save her. Dag… Dagonet…"

"She's gone, Lancelot." The tall man said slowly.

"No. Stop saying that." He felt rough hands lift him from the floor, but his body refused to support his weight. A rough punch in his chest from Bors brought him back to his senses, and he looked down at Bryanne hopelessly. "She can't be gone."

"I'm sorry, Lancelot." Galahad murmured.

"You are not to track the escaped woads." Arthur snarled at one of the Roman centurions. "You are to come back to the Wall with us, now."

"But –"

"NOW!" Arthur roared, silencing all arguments. Dagonet bent and picked up Bryanne, who lay limp in her arms. "Tristan, find a wagon." The commander instructed. "Bors, take Gawain and Galahad. Get Desra. We're taking them both home."...

The grave was bare of grass. A bowl with a candle in hissed and spat in the wind. There was no sword in the grave. Just a wooden horse and a tourmaline gem, set in a silver pendant. Lancelot stood alone by the grave.

"My little vixen." He whispered, turned and walked away. A red-stained leaf fell from its branch and twirled lazily down, landing on the grave. Autumn was nearly over, and somewhere, a vixen called for its mate.


A quick word before the next two chapters. Thank you for all the reviews - especially SunsetSparrow, Miggryrow and katemary77.

And apologies to Mig - It had to be done! I hope did it okay. And thanks for the word "soulful"!

In reference to the next two chapters - disclaimer because I don't own any of it, and PLEASE read the lyrics, it was a lot of my inspiration when writing this.

Enjoy