Arthur stood atop the wall and surveyed the aftermath of the battle. The job of clearing away the dead from the fields surrounding Hadrian's Wall was an unpleasant one for any involved. Most of the dead were Saxon and their bodies were all thrown into a pile and set afire. The Woads took care of their own in whatever ritual they deemed necessary. The peasants that had stayed to help were preparing their dead for burial and although they were not "knights" in the sense that Arthur, Lancelot and the others were, Arthur had arranged for them to be buried on Badon Hill with the knights of history. They had fought bravely and deserved to be remembered with the others. No one had argued the point and the funerals would all be the next day.

Arthur was surprised at the small numbers of dead on both his side and the side of the Woads. The Saxons were a fierce group and not easily defeated, so the fact that they had been able to kill so few was remarkable. He and Merlin had devised a great plan and most of it had gone without a hitch, but even great plans require sacrifice. It worried Arthur that their sacrifice had been so small, yet he thanked God that he had not lost another of his beloved men. He was jerked out of his musings when he felt a hand on his forearm. He looked down and saw Guinnevere standing there looking up at him with compassion in her eyes. Her people were good fighters and they had lost a lot of their people over the past 15 years but she understood how it pained him to see so much carnage for no reason other than the desire to defeat and rule a people who only wanted to live free.

He turned his back on the sight before him. "Lady, are your wounds healing satisfactorily?" He had been worried when he had seen the amount of blood from her many small wounds. Merlin had been quick to reassure him that his daughter would be fine, but Arthur had seen men die from wounds that should have been no more than incidental. Improper care could cause the loss of limbs and even lives. Guinnevere smiled and Arthur was breathless at the sight. She was everything he remembered about his mother; beautiful, strong-willed, vocal about her beliefs and she had agreed to become his wife. It mattered little to him that it was probably at the urging of Merlin, all that mattered was that he would have the chance to know the kind of love his father had known. Britons were loyal to anyone who took up their cause as personal and Arthur had surely done that. He only hoped he could make her know his feelings were not political; he truly wanted her to know how he had come to see her as his soul mate. Now that he had time, he was sure all would be well with them.

Lancelot was headed toward Arthur when he saw Guinnevere walk up. He knew his friend had feelings for her and he was jealous. Unsure whether the jealousy was because she had taken his place as Arthur's confidante or because Arthur would be sharing her dreams as well as her bed uncertain in his mind. Lancelot was not usually a patient man, but he knew any hasty conclusions could cause a riff between the two friends that would possibly never be healed. Sighing, he turned around and went back the way he had come. He would wait and catch Arthur another time. Maybe he would have a better understanding of his feelings by then. The next few days would be difficult if not. Weddings were supposed to be a time for celebrating and right now he felt less like celebrating than he ever had in his life.

Arthur went in search of Jols when Guinnevere left to find her father. "Jols, find the others and have them meet me at the round table." Jols nodded his understanding and left to do as Arthur bade. Now that the war was over Arthur wanted to find out the plans of his men. Most would probably go to their beloved Sarmatia, but he hoped at least some would stay. The war might be over but there were still Saxons wandering around and sooner or later their natural instincts to conquer would surface and Arthur wanted to be prepared. Running his hand across the back of his neck to ease some of the tension, he headed toward the meeting hall.

When he arrived he found the others already sitting in their usual places. Either Jols had known where all of them were and didn't have to search for them or they had been searching each other out. If the latter were the case, then they were probably trying to decide when to leave for home. "Men, the war is over and we were victorious once more. But, there are still Saxons lurking around and sooner or later that will cause trouble. I have called you all here to ask about your plans." He paused and saw the others looking from one to another. When they had all had a chance to understand their facial expressions, Lancelot stood up.

"Arthur, your plans to marry Guinnevere will mean you will be responsible for defending her people as well as the people who stay at the wall. If you are asking for our help as I feel you are, why don't you just come out and ask?" When he had stopped talking, Arthur saw the others watching him closely. "Before I ask you to sacrifice any more of your plans for a land you do not like, I wanted to find out just what you did want. That is all. I have no secret mission to spring on you and I have always solicited your opinions whenever we spoke. Even though I knew you were drafted into the service of the Roman Empire, I never thought of you as other than free men who had a say in how and when you were to fight or die." He stopped talking and looked at each man for a moment. He saw that they were relieved at his words. "Did you think I would change because I changed my allegiance and decided to fight for the freedom of a people who were not Roman?"

Lancelot had taken his seat again and this time Gawain spoke up. "Arthur, power changes people. Not always in a good way. Since the battle ended the Woads have been treating you like some kind of ruler and we weren't sure where we fit into the scheme of things." Gallahad broke in, adding, "We weren't sure you still needed our help with the number of Woads ready to die by your side." Only Tristan kept silent throughout the exchange. He had always made his decisions silently and without a need for discussion or reassurance.

Arthur looked at Lancelot and saw a dangerous glint in his eyes. Not completely understanding his animosity toward him, Arthur gave a weary sigh. "No matter how many people choose to stand beside me or behind me, there will always be a place of honor for the men who have served with me throughout my career. I have come to think of you all as part of my family. As brothers even though we are not bonded by blood or country. I never thought it necessary to say it aloud. I thought you all knew." He placed the palms of both hands on the table to help him stand, but before he made a move Tristan finally spoke.

"Arthur, I can only speak for myself but I have no immediate need to travel to Sarmatia. I will stay and help you as you see fit. How long I cannot say, for when you have peace and no longer need me in battle I will probably get bored and move on. I have fought too long to find happiness for long in peace." When he had finished, he stood and looked around the table. "Now, I think I will ride out a ways to make sure the Saxons haven't regrouped and plan on surprising us." He bowed his head slightly toward Arthur and walked out of the room.

With Tristan leaving the room came an awkward moment. Gawain looked at Gallahad and they both looked at Lancelot. Finally when Lancelot had not said anything one way or the other, Gawain stood up and bowed his head at Arthur. "I, too, have no need to leave immediately. But unlike Tristan I yearn for peace and will help ensure peace for you and your people before I decide to move on." He looked for affirmation from Gallahad. When Gallahad stood and nodded his agreement they saw Arthur visibly relax. When they left the room there was a sense of inner peace they had not felt for 15 years. Even though they would not be returning to their homes, they were the ones who had decided they would not go. That made all the difference.

Arthur waited for Lancelot to say something else. He could feel the man holding something in and didn't understand why he refused to say it. That had not been one of his weaker traits before now. Lancelot was usually the first voice his opinion unless Bors just happened to speak first. After a moment, Lancelot looked at Arthur and gave a weak, sad smile. Standing, he finally spoke. "Arthur, in all the years we've fought together, you have hated the Woads to the point of being obsessive. What suddenly made you decide that their freedom was worth fighting, maybe even dying for?" The question was not unexpected. His hatred for the natives of Britain was legendary. Only Lancelot knew the truth about the origin of that hatred.

"The night we were camped coming from Marius' estate I had a meeting with Merlin." He heard the sharp intake of breath as his words registered but Lancelot did not interrupt him. "We had a 'discussion' about the role he played in the death of my mother. In the retelling some memories came back to me. I remembered after the attack how Merlin had come to me to comfort me. I refused and blamed him for her death. I vowed to rid the world of him and his barbarian tribe. I was wrong. My mother was a Woad." He looked at Lancelot as if the last sentence said all that needed to be said.

Lancelot watched his friend for a moment and then nodding his head he told him, "I will stay for as long as you need me. I no longer feel the longing for my homeland. My home is here by your side." He then bowed in a very Roman fashion and turned and left the room. Arthur plopped down hard on his chair. He was weary. Weary of battle, weary of killing, weary of death. But that could be changed with the help of his friends. They would turn this island into a land where all men and women would be equal. Where no one feared enslavement or persecution. For the first time since he'd heard of the death of Pelagius Arthur felt optimistic about what the future would hold.

To all my reviewers:

Thank you so much. When I wrote what has become the first chapter this was going to be a short piece. But the response was so encouraging that I had to try to continue it. This has probably been the hardest story I've ever done but your encouragement made me keep trying. I hope I don't disappoint anyone. Liz: Since you know where I live, come visit. That's the only way you'll ever get your MacGyver dvds back, I'm holding them hostage! Ha Ha. But then, you could say the same for season 6 of Stargate. Oh, well.