Four

Tristan nodded off eventually after settling down again by the tree. When he awoke near dawn, he saw something he did not expect to see. The hawk had nestled against his chest, and had not wandered away. He gingerly stroked the bird's feathers with the tips of his fingers.

"I knew you would not fail me and leave," he whispered, still stroking the hawk. "Awaken now and watch the sunrise with me."

The hawk squawked cheerfully as Tristan set it atop his shoulder. After regaining its balance, the hawk clamped it small claws onto Tristan's tunic and clipped at his hair lovingly. Tristan stood against the ancient tree and placed on hand on it for balance. He gazed out at the plainess of the rolling hills, when the brilliant sun showed it's awesome face over the horizon. Its warm sunbeams caressed Tristan's slightly windburned face. Not knowing when he'd be able to enjoy dawn's first light again, Tristan closed his eyes and enjoyed the moment. After the sun set itself higher in the sky, the moment passed for Tristan, and it was already time to move onward.

As he mounted his steed, Tristan set Iliana on his shoulder again. The other boys rode up next to Tristan and admired his new pet.

"Hey, now, where'd you find that beauty?" Gawain asked.

"She was hurt, and I helped her," Tristan said, as the hawk nudged at his high cheekbones.

"What's her name?" the youngest, Galahad asked curiously.

"Iliana," Tristan answered.

"Seems like you two have an understaning, eh, Tristan?" Dagonet smiled.

Tristan raised his arm and stroked the bird again before putting his hand back on the horse's reigns. "Seems that way, doesn't it."

Bors slapped Tristan friendly on the shoulder. "You're all right, Tristan, you're all right."

"Coming from you, is that an insult or a compliment?" Tristan asked, with a slight smirk on his face.

The other boys chuckled under their breath, followed by Bors' hearty laugh. Then, one of the soldiers rode up to Tristan, stopping in front of him. He turned his horse around and glared down at him.

"This is not a picnic, boy, lose the hawk," he ordered.

Tristan didn't answer the man in any way. As the soldier moved his hand quickly to knock away Iliana, the bird, frightened by his sudden movement, bit the commanding officier. Tristan backed his horse away, and put his hand over Iliana for protection.

"Damn that thing!" the soldier shouted, sucking on his hand like an infant.

"She doesn't like fast movements. They frighten her, so she becomes defensive," Tristan explained.

"Give it here; I'm going to rid of it now!" the soldier shouted, but then was suddenly surrounded by the other young men.

"Leave him alone," Dagonet said, a gleam in his eye.

"Yeah, or you'll have to deal with us," Gawain said.

"All of us," Bors gruffly added.

"And, you wouldn't want any trouble now, would you?" Galahad asked, his brown curls bouncing in front of his eyes.

The other couple Roman soldiers came about the group then, but the boys stood their ground. The oldest soldier grunted under his breath.

"Keep the damned bird, then! In a week I won't have to worry about any of you anymore anyway!" he said, and rode onward.

The boys smiled, pleased with themselves. Tristan watched them from under his dark hair. He didn't know what to say to them.

"I could have taken care of myself, you know," Tristan finally said.

"We know," Gawain said, slapping him on the arm. "We just thought we'd offer a hand for the occaison."

Tristan nodded curtly to him in response, and rode on with the others.

Three days later, the group traveled more than 100 miles. The horses were beat, and everyone was exhausted. They stopped in a small town to refresh their supplies, and moved onward. By the fourth day, they had already picked up their last recruits, two other boys from seperate villages. The younger of the two was called Lancelot. He openly rode out to meet them as they approached his village. Tristan didn't know whether to admire his courage or shame his distaste for unecessary heroics. The second boy was a couple of years younger than Tristan. He was small for his age, with fair hair and green eyes. He seemed quiet, yet willing, but also seemed sad or distracted. Tristan didn't let it bother him, though. He had better things to worry about than the happiness of others. He wasn't even happy half the time, so why should he care? He liked the way he was, no matter what others thought about him.

That night, the boys shared another fire. They told stories of their homes, at least what they could remember of them, but Tristan, Lancelot, and Arthur all stayed silent in their solitude. Tristan gazed across the fire as he fed his hawk. He watched Arthur for a split second, and turned his gaze toward Lancelot when he caught the boy looking directly at him. He averted his eyes then, after one of the other boys whispered something to him.

"Hey, did you hear about what the soldiers said about Arthur?" Bors asked. "He said that he's supposed to lead the knights one day."

Gawain laughed. "Where do you get your information, Bors? Honestly, I'm betting that you think with your arse sometimes!"

"Do not!" Bors said, flinging food at the long-haird boy. "I heard it straight from the soldiers' mouths!"

Tristan looked again to Arthur, but he had since layed down and faced the opposite direction on the blazing fire. Lancelot sat against a tree and watched the others with soulful eyes.

"Aw, who cares! It could change in the how many years was it...?" Gawain asked.

"15 plus," Dagonet answered.

The group fell silent a moment, realizing that 15 years plus of their lives was own by Rome.

"15 years...wow..." Galahad said, scratching his head and neck. "Long time..."

"That it is," Dagonet said, eating a piece of meat. "But, we'll get through it, eh?"

"Do we have a choice?" Tristan said. "No use talking about, is there? We're here anyway, no matter if we're living, sick, dying, or dead."

"We will return home someday," Lancelot called out from his spot, and suddenly all eyes were on him.

He sat with his legs at a 45 degree angle. His dark curly hair was swept out of his eyes, that seemed to star into each of the other boys' souls.

"For you, that may be true," Tristan replied, placing Illiana on his forearm again. "But, that's just a fairytale dream for the rest of us."

"Tristan," Dagonet warned, shaking his head.

Galahad's eyes began to water then, and he hid his face in his knees to hide his tears from the others.

"We will go home someday, in this life or the next," Lancelot said. He looked up at Tristan. "All of us."

Tristan fell silent then, and moved to the other side of his tree with Iliana. He wasn't going to sit and listen to this crap all night. He'd rather sleep then sit and dream all night.

The other boys shook their head and nestled down in their sleeping areas. Lancelot still watched after Tristan, before turning on his side and falling asleep himself.

End, 'Four.'