Chapter 4:

Isabella wraped a fur around her shoulder and carefully steped out of the wagon, the snow crunched beneath her bare feet. She breathed in deep, the smell of pine filling her sences. She heard a twig snap and and turned around on her heal, she saw Lancelot leaning aginst a tree with a 'you've been cought' look writen all over his face.

"What are you doing wondering around by your self?" he wallked over to her staring her down with his arms crossed over his chest. She rembered him doing that all the time when they were little, but now she could hold his stare. She quirked one eyebrow and held his stare for a few seconds till she finally gave up.

"I have been in the wagon all day, and decided too strech my limbs. Is that ok with you? one side of her mouth curved into a small smile. She sat down on a nearby log. "Would you like to sit with me, Sir Lancelot?" he sat down next to her and rested his head on the tree trunk behinde them.

"How are you feeling?" he asked looking at her, compassion glowing in his eyes. She turned her head to look at him.

"I'm fine, a little sore but not too bad."

"Your sure?" he found his self asking, he could not figure out why he cared so much about her, he found himself thinking about her all the time, he didn't know why, or how for that matter, she had become very important to him, almost like they had known each other for years.

"Yes, do not worry about me, I'll be fine.

"So where are you from? you dont sound Rome or Britain." he had changed the subject so fast she was taken by surprise

"What am I going to say?" she thought "I cant very well tell him i'm from Sarmatia. Or can I, I mean there's alot of people who live there, he'll never know who I am.

"Sarmatia." she could see the shock all over his face, but not any sign that he figured out who she was. "Are you surprised?" she asked, a small smile playing across her face.

"Yea, I am. How did you get to Britain? it could not have been easy."

"Um...we better get back to camp, Dagonet's probaly looking for me." she didn't want to explaine how she got to Britain, at least not till he knew who she was.

"My lady." he offered her his arm, which she took after a couple of seconds of thinking about it. He walked her back to camp where she got a stern look from Dagonet.

"I'm going, i'm going."she started to walk back to the wagon but stoped at the sound of Dagonet's voice. "What?" she asked coming closer to him.

"Falisha is giveing Guinevere a bath in that wagon if you want to wash off." he pointed toward a wagon that had a tub in it and a screen covering the front to give them privacy.

"Thank you." she walked off towards the wagon, still thinking about Lancelot and how she was going to tell him about everything. She walked into the wagon and was greated with a wram smile from Falisha, Marius wife, if it was not for her bringing them food every couple of days, none of them would be alive. "Hi" she greated the Roman woman with a smile of her own.

When she was washed off she was handed a black long sleeved dress that fell to the ground, it fit her just right, her black curly hair fell to her waist in layers. She thanked Falisha and took her leave to find Lancelot. She foud him siting infront of a tree, it looked like he was in deep thought.

"What do you rember of your home?" he turned his head too look at her, she looked beatiful, he should have known she was from Sarmatia, no way could a Roman or Britain look that beatiful. He told her what little he rembered about home. "Did you have a best friend?" she asked

"Yes" he said, a large smile growing on his lips, she rested her head on his shoulder and stared into his dark eyes, he smiled down at her, stareing into her dark green eyes.

"Where have I seen those eyes before." he thought.

"Well, go on."

"Her name was Isabella, she was a few years younger then I, but she could hold her own."

"Was it hard leaving her?"

"Yes, very much, I felt like I was her protecter, and when I left her I was worryed about what would happen to her."

"It was now or never" she thought

She knelt down in front of him, and placed a object in his hand, she close his hand around it and brought his hand toward his chest, tears began to fall freely down her cheeks. Lancelot whom was very confused looked at the object that was in his hand, it was the seashell necklace he had gave Isabella fifeteen years ago, he looked into her eyes, they were the same eyes, alittle older, alittle wiser, but they were the same, he brought his thums up to her cheeks and wiped away her tears.

She leaned into his touch closeing her eyes, enjoying his warm touch on her cold face.

there you go, he knows who she is, I know, kinda a weird place to stop at but thats all I could think of, please tell me what you think of the way she told him who she was, i had trouble writeing that part. Now hurry up and review!