Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from the film King Arthur, nor do I own the myth, or anything else, Dzerassa's character. This story was written for entertainment purposes only, no money was exchanged. Please don't sue, just tell me if I need to change something.
Chapter Fifteen: Destination
The commander was killed in a drunken brawl almost as soon as we reached the other side of the passage across the water. It's just as well. Though I was held below decks in the hold, I still understood the dissent among the men, the talk of mutiny. The commander was delusional, bring home women and talking of nymphs and rewards. I agreed, for Secunda was surely married with children by now. They celebrated their safe passage across the waters, and he was stabbed. They say he was drunk, yet I do suspect the second in command had something to do with it. No matter. I had hoped I would be forgotten and allowed to return home, but instead I am quickly sold at the nearest slave market. Sold very cheap, if I am any judge of my own worth, not that I like to think of those terms. I wish I had made it all the way to Rome. Would I could have fought in the Coliseum and brought death and fear for ripping me away from HOME! AGAIN! Ironic, I note to myself, that I had never thought of the fortress as home until I was forced to leave. Instead of death, though, I find prolonged life. I am sold to an old woman. She is practically a hermit and I do not know how she could have afforded me. She tells me that I have a nice face, and that she knows I will help her around her small home. I could easily murder her and burn this place to ash.
I flee that night. I know it is illogical; I know I should stay with her and wait until I rebuild my strength. I know I should rest and become familiar with my environment to avoid capture. I don't care. I take all her food in a small sack and walk out. Something tugs at my conscience as I pass over the threshold. I turn back and rip my necklace from my throat and leave it, glinting on the floor. She can sell it. Or she can die. I don't care. I run.