Watching and Dreaming

As usual Dagonet was last to reach the pub after returning from their mission. He had things to do upon returning. But if the truth was told, he just didn't like standing around watching Bors get drunk and ignore Vanora.

He thought she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen! Not the kind of beauty he'd seen in the Roman women. Their beauty came from fancy clothes and frills; but Vanora's beauty was just, well, there. Every smile spoke of a heart full of love to share. She just always chose to share it with the wrong man, to Dagonet's reckoning.

First, she chose to offer her love to Lancelot, as had most every female at the wall. After several months of loving one minute and fighting the next, she had finally given up on that romance. Much to Lancelot's relief, Dagonet was sure; very much to Dagonet's relief. When they finally went their separate ways, Dagonet had tried to show her he knew how she should be treated. But she had been so wrapped up in her broken heart that she had failed to see his love for her.

They became fast friends and she even confided her most secret feelings to Dagonet. As painful as they were to hear, he listened anyway. At least he got to be near her even if he'd rather not have heard most of it.

That's how she came to be with Bors. Dagonet and Bors had been friends since before they had come to Britain. Coming from the same village they had worked, played and even been drafted to Rome's service together. So, naturally, when Dagonet was trying hard to talk to Vanora, Bors had joined them at the pub.

Bors had been relentless in his pursuit of Vanora and Dagonet was reluctant to admit even to Bors that he had feelings for the woman. If Bors had known, Dagonet was sure that Bors would never have pursued her at all. Just as Dagonet was certain that no matter how much he wanted her for himself, he would never do anything to let her or anyone else know while she was with Bors. Their code of friendship would not allow it.

Dagonet was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't hear Bors call his name. His first realization that he was not still standing alone, was the slap on his back that Bors had just administered. He looked at his friend and smiled. At least, he thought it was a smile. He had come out of his reveries so abruptly it had been a little painful.

"Dagonet, where you been?" Bors slurred. It seemed his friend had been drinking plenty in the short time he had been here before Dagonet had arrived. Then looking around, he realized they had all been drinking double time. Gawain was slouching on a chair behind the table and Gallahad was throwing knives at a small wooden post. If he leaned much further he would fall on his face. Lancelot was sitting at another table playing some game with a Roman soldier and only Tristan was standing still, not drinking, just munching on an apple. The all drank more than was good. They drank to forget. All but Tristan, who seemed to be the only one who knew drinking only postponed the reality. It didn't abolish the truth. He almost never took a drink with the others.

Jerking out of his observations he answered. "In the stables." He hadn't really been answering the question. Besides, Bors wouldn't have understood what he said. He could have said 'hanging upside down in a tree' and Bors would have still grunted. He should have just told him the truth. "I've been sitting on a pile of hay wondering what your woman was doing." He silently told Bors. Then shrugging off the anger that suddenly surfaced regarding his friend's behavior, he asked, "Why?"

"I've been waitin' on you to get her so Vanora could sing. I know how much you like her singing. You always go all glossy-eyed when she sings about home." Not noticing the guilty look on Dagonet's face, Bors staggered over to Vanora. Dagonet flinched as Bors put a possessive hand on her waist. He couldn't help but wonder how that waist would feel under a man's hand. He couldn't take his eyes off her waist and even managed to block out the sight of another man's hand there.

Dagonet shook his head to clear the images of Vanora from his eyes. The real one in front of him and the one he saw behind his closed eyes at night. He opened his eyes and found Tristan looking at him with a strange, puzzled look. He didn't think Tristan had seen anything that would reveal his secret, but he knew if given the chance Tristan would figure it out. Tristan liked solving puzzles.

"I'll just have to guard my emotions when I'm around Tristan." He thought to himself.

Bors came back to stand with Dagonet as Vanora started to sing. Despite himself, Dagonet began to daydream. She was singing about home and the words made him want to do just that... go home. Only home to him was wherever beautiful Vanora was.

Everyone was so caught up in their fantasies that no one saw their leader walk up. Lucius Artorius Castus had known these men for almost 15 years. Being their commander had made him their father figure during their important pre-adolescence years. He looked at the men that remained out of all the men he had started with. These six men were like his family and he knew them well.

He took a moment to look at each knight as he silently said their name: Lancelot, his truest friend and best companion; Dagonet, the gentle giant that was always first to follow him; Gallahad, the youngling so full of himself; Gawain, so fierce and deadly in battle and a lover off the battlefield; Bors, loud and boisterous but a man who had found peace in his children; and last but not the least of his knights, Tristan, the silent scout who couldn't share his feelings but probably had buried deeper feelings than the others were capable of.

Arthur took a moment to salute the others, the ones that had not made it their 15 years. It grieved him terribly that he had seen so many men give their lives for something they had no belief in. Saying a hasty prayer that they had finally found home, he turned to leave.

"Arthur!" shouted Jols just as Vanora's singing stopped. It took the rest of them a moment to snap back to their reality. Gallahad was first, even if he was the one most lost in his thoughts.

"Arthur, you're not completely Roman yet, come join us," he yelled in a slurred speech as he staggered toward his commander. The others swiftly caught up with him and Arthur found himself facing the men he'd come to love. He would miss them. For after tomorrow, if Rome kept its promise, these men would be free men. Free to go to the places they dreamed of. Free to build a life to see them through their final years on this earth.

He cleared his throat and his thoughts, "Knights, we leave at sunrise on our final mission. A mission for Rome, but also a mission for ourselves." He paused and looked at the group of men. "Tomorrow we ride to meet the caravan of Bishop Germanius, coming from Rome to deliver the discharge papers we've waited so long for. We are to ensure his safe passage to the wall.

When he finished the knights all cheered. Even the silent Tristan had looked up with eyes that appeared brighter than usual.

Arthur nodded to the men and turned to leave. Lancelot put a hand on his arm to stop him. "Arthur, before you go, have one final drink with us and toast to freedom."

Gallahad handed each of them a tankard and raising them above their heads they spoke in unison, "To freedom!" Sealing the salute with a long drink, they each left, heading toward their rooms to get some rest before their mission. Some of them were humming the tune Vanora had sung shortly before.

Just as the sun was casting a purple glow across the horizon, the seven men rode through the heavy wooden gate and out of the fortress at Hadrian's Wall. As they rounded the curve on the other side of the gate, each man put heel to flank and jumped forward until going at a full gallop. Even the horses seemed to sense there was a larger purpose to this mission and wanted to see if fulfilled as soon as possible.

They rode throughout most of the day with nothing slowing them down and nothing to occupy Dagonet's mind. After today he would be free, but what good was that freedom if he couldn't share it with someone to love. He had been alone more than any of the others, except for Tristan and he wasn't sure about that. He had spent the last 13 years longing for a woman he could never have. Unless his friend somehow waited until the day before he would be free to get himself killed. The thought gave Dagonet conflicting emotions. First he thought about the sadness without his friend. Then he thought about the gladness with the woman he loved.

Disgusted with his thoughts he tried to find something else to think about or something to talk about. But Bors was his riding companion today and the last thing he wanted was to try to talk about nonsense with the man that blocked his dreams. He concentrated on the one dream he had regularly, whether awake or in slumber.

Dagonet walked up to the door of his house. He knew heaven was waiting inside and hastily opened the door. "Hello, my husband." She said with her velvety voice. "Come sit and eat your dinner with your sons." Dagonet looked at the table laden with delicious food and saw it surrounded with children. He was happy to see them and wondered how he had lived before they came into his life. They all had red hair, even the males. He could see his features in some but most looked just like their mother.

Just then his wife walked up to the table and took her seat on his right side. He had never thought her more beautiful than he did at that moment...

The group galloped up to a small knoll overlooking the road to Hadrian's Wall. The view below brought Dagonet out of his daydream. Gawain was speaking, "As promised, the Bishop's carriage." Gallahad spoke up, "Our freedom Bors."

"I can almost taste it." Bors responded, licking his lips. Dagonet looked at Arthur. "Your ticket to Rome, Arthur." Arthur smiled at Dagonet and turned back just as an arrow came flying out of the trees lining the road and hit one of the Roman guards. It seemed even their last mission would be one of fighting. It was just as well. Dagonet was tired of his thoughts. He needed something to work the frustrations out of his system.

They were headed back toward the wall with the Bishop in tow. The battle hadn't lasted long but there were several Romans that would never see their Beloved Rome and more Woads had spilled their blood on the beloved soil they fought so hard to regain. Even while killing them in his duty, he felt sympathy for the people fighting for their freedom just as he and the other knight fought for theirs. All this killing for a being that he had never seen and would never see made no sense to him. Arthur called it his 'beloved Rome' but to Dagonet it was just an unseen master sending the slaves to do it's bidding.

While doing it's bidding, they were destroying another people the way Rome had destroyed his.

There was a difference. A difference that made Dagonet feel shame for his ancestors. The Woads never agreed to serve Rome to save their miserable lives. They would rather die than become servants to a cause they did not believe in. His ancestors had not only agreed to serve, they had promised that all of their sons would serve and their sons, sons. He lowered his head and mourned the pride his people had lost so long before he was born.

He came out of his mourning when Tristan rode up beside him and matched his horse's gait. "When we arrive back at the gate, you should go to her and tell her how you feel. She has the right to choose instead of settling for someone to be the father of her bastard son." His voice was low and Dagonet wasn't sure he had heard right. "What did you say?" Dagonet really wanted to know.

"Don't tell me you don't know. The son Bors is so proud of is the son of Lancelot." He paused and looked over at Dagonet. "Why do you think Lancelot keeps saying those things to Bors? He knows and thinks Bors should know as well." He finished his speech and looked ahead to where Bors was riding behind Lancelot and Arthur. Dagonet followed his gaze. "You shouldn't spread those tales Tristan. Vanora has a terrible temper when she gets angry." He tried to make Tristan feel guilty repeating Lancelot's teasing and making it sound like truth.

"If you don't believe me why don't you ask? To have so many children, she loved Lancelot a long time without producing an offspring." Tristan sounded so sure of himself that before Dagonet could catch his mistake he told him, "How do you know it is not mine? I did spend time with her after she left Lancelot."

Tristan looked at him and Dagonet saw in his eyes the moment he deciphered Dagonet's dilemma. Yes Dagonet loved Vanora. But he also loved Lancelot and Bors. If he had one he could not have the other. If he chose Vanora, he could not stay friends with the men she had loved before him. If he chose his friends, he could not be with the woman he loved. He would forever be watching her and dreaming of the future he could have had.

To give his story closure he told Tristan, "I would rather die than have to choose between the two things that make up my world. I would also give my life to save the life of either of them. For my friends have been my sanity these past 15 years and the woman who holds my heart could be my sanity for the next 15."

When Dagonet had finished speaking, Tristan nodded his head and let his horse fall to the back of the group. What he had just said gave Tristan a lot to think about. It was one puzzle he didn't think he would ever fully decipher.

The End