Before You Go…
Chapter 4
" 'ey, little brother." Range said quietly.
"I'm not your brother." Tristan corrected him.
"I call Lancelot 'little brother' and he's two years my elder, and also not my brother." Range said simply, grinning widely as he looked back at the other scout. "What will you do when we return to the village?"
"Eat and sleep." Tristan replied dryly. Since they had left the main group that morning Range had not stopped trying to bait him into confessing his feelings for Douma, and he had done nothing but fight it.
Range laughed, the sound echoing in the dense forest and making the giant of a man sound even bigger, "Well of course!" He grinned widely and pulled his horse back to ride next to his companion, the stark white of the creature contrasting with the mottled grey color of Tristan's horse. "I was hoping for a more specific answer mind you."
"You won't get one." Tristan replied, staring at the ground ahead of them that was still muddy from the last nights rain.
Range looked at him and sighed, pushing some of his shoulder length black hair out of his face, several wavy chunks falling defiantly back in front of his eyes. "When Dagonet and I were still in Sarmatia, we had three younger brothers and an older sister. Dram was always the favorite and the middle child of course. Our youngest and blondest brother was killed by a horse at the age of nine, just before we left."
"And?" Tristan asked, not understanding the relevance of this story. He paused as he noticed Range's smile was gone.
"The last thing I told him was that he was the worst brother I had ever known. All because he had broken my carving of a horse." Tristan stared at the man as he looked straight ahead. "If you died, right now, would you be happy with how you left Douma?"
Tristan stared at the back of his head as his horse sped up, leaving him very much alone to contemplate his answer. He understood now.
"Did you hear that?" Range asked suddenly, looking into the trees.
Tristan, pulled from his thoughts, looked around and shook his head, "I heard nothing."
"Head back to the group, tell them that the path is clear until the river." He continued to look around and stare into the trees. "We're only a few hours from the house now."
Tristan nodded and turned his horse, glancing back when he heard Range speak a single word, "Inish…"
He rode calmly back toward the travelers, noticing at least seven, maybe eight men he had never spoken to. "Damn waist of time." He muttered, watching as some of the younger knights, no more then sixten years old, joked and laughed as they went. "They're never going to make it."
"Tristan." Arthur called as he came closer. "What did you see?" Tristan turned his gaze from the youngest knights to their leader.
"Nothing, Range decided to scout farther, he sent me back here. Said something about Inish…"
"Woads!" Dagonet said loudly spurring his horse forward and racing down the road past Tristan who turned and followed as Arthur sent Bors, Gawain, Athom, and Muay along behind.
He pulled the reigns of his horse and it skidded to a stop as they came onto a large group of woads, at least six trying desperately to get inside the reach of Range's ax.
" 'bout time you showed up." He said, swinging his massive weapon with one arm and gashing several of the attackers across the chest.
"Sorry we're late." Dagonet replied, jumping off his horse and landing in the midst of several of the men, drawing his long broadsword.
"First three days out on an assignment and we get attacked." Gawain said as he pulled a smaller ax from his saddle, "This is my kind of work." He threw it and it stuck squarely in one man's back.
Tristan sat on his horse several yards back and stared down his arrow at Dagonet and Range who now stood nearly back to back fighting off enemies.
"Look out!" One of the younger knights called as an arrow stuck in his back, the swordsman he had been warning them of jumping down and nearly landing on Tristan. He spun the arrow tip upwards and let the arrow fly, listening to the resounding thud as the tip lodged in the man's ribs. He spurred his horse on and knocked another arrow, firing over Bors shoulder and killing the man he had been advancing on with his knives.
Range made a sound that could almost be called a growl before a great cry erupted from his throat, his ax hand punching the air for a moment as his current attackers fell to the ground dead, "Rush!"
"Rush!" The other knights called back, each fighting more fiercely.
From where he now stood Tristan had taken down six men and had another in his sights before he heard the call, responding and finding a man almost on top of him.
He threw the man back with an arrow to the shoulder and dismounted, removing the long, curved sword from it's sheath on his back.
The five older knights stared at the bodies of the woads and shook their heads when they saw the three younger knights among them. One was dead and the other, Athom, was missing an eye and two fingers.
Range lifted him up over his shoulder with one arm and took the reigns of his horse in the other. "I've got him, Dagonet, put the body in a blanket and lay it across the back of my horse."
Dagonet did as he was told and followed along behind him on his own horse, staring at Athom. "He's only fourteen." Gawain said quietly to Bors who nodded and stared at him.
"Arthur!" Range called loudly as he saw the top of the carriage over the hill in front of them.
Arthur's horse appeared at the crest of the hill just before the team that led the wagon. "What's happened?" He asked as he stopped his horse beside Range who let Athom's feet touch the ground and supported him with his arm.
"He's lost an eye." He said shortly, allowing Dagonet to take reigns from his hand. "His finger's stopped bleeding but his face won't."
"Get him into the wagon." Arthur said quickly as the other young knights stared in shock and horror at the boys face. "Hurry!"
"Dagonet, put the body on one of the pack horses." Range said shortly as he walked up the hill, the unconscious boy over one shoulder again. He paused for a moment before he opened the cloth that led to the inside of the wagon. "Pardon me…." He trailed off for a moment as he stood in the doorway.
Bors ran a hand over the wound running from his forehead to the crest of his skull, the blood still running down his neck as he frowned at it. "I'm gonna have to shave my head to fix this." He muttered quietly, grumbling as he slipped his knives into their sheaths on the front of his armor.
Tristan pulled his horse into check and glanced at the man as he let the cloth fall quickly, covering whatever had surprised him. "Let's get moving." Arthur said, "We can not stay still now."
The wagon jerked quickly ahead and they were off again.
"You haven't told him?"
Tristan looked up and stared at the small square cut into the front of the wagon for ventilation, the rain thudding steadily on the roof. There was a quiet moan he assumed came from Athom and an answer. "No." There was something very familiar about the voice but he couldn't quite place it. "No one but my father knows."
"You should have told him." Range responded in a voice Tristan could only call soothing. "He would much rather know and loose you then never know at all."
"I would but…" She paused and he waited for a conclusion, "I can't look at him without crying anymore…"
Tristan looked at the fire near the center of the clearing they had found, the rain steaming as it hit the flames. He stood and walked out of the shelter of the wagon's roof and sat down in front on one of the logs they had moved to serve as a seat. His feet rested a few inches from the fire and were warm in no time.
He closed his eyes, his cloak drawn tight around him to keep him as dry as possible even though he was already soaked to the bone.
"Well…" She said, smiling at him, "I believe I will get very old, and eventually die." She giggled as she finished.
He laughed, "That is not what I meant." he looked over at her as she stared up at the sky and he smiled.
"In that case, I suggest you give me your answer." She said, "Then I can correctly give you mine."
He blinked and stood up, walking toward the river and she followed. "I am not going to grow old." He said, leaning against a tree. "I am going to marry, maybe have a son, but I will inevitably die in battle, just like my father before me and his father before him." He said quietly, watching the water.
"If you are so serious all of the time, you'll be an old man at a very young age." She smiled and pushed some of the hair out of her face, "I always thought you would be…"
He opened his eyes and pushed the muzzle of the horse that had been nibbling his hair away from him. He blinked at the sudden harsh white of the area around him. During the night the rain had turned to snow and they were now covered in fine white powder.
He heard a laugh and looked over in time to see Range putting his wet clothes into the saddlebags on his horse. "You seem content to sleep anywhere."
"So what if I do?" He responded, sitting up and shaking his head.
"It is not healthy to sleep so much." He responded, "You should be collecting fire wood or seeing if there is any way to get around these drifts." He motioned to several large snow drifts in the way of the wagon, "That is our job if I recall correctly." He took a shirt out of the bag he was digging in.
"Me' lady." Gawain said with a nod as he woke and saw the woman from the wagon walking past. "You should not be out of the wagon without a knight."
She stared at him from under the shawl, nodding slightly as she went across the camp and into the wagon, glancing at the few knights that were awake and moving.
Range, his shirt still held in his hand, nodded to her as she glanced his way. "You shouldn't go alone into the forest me' lady." He said mockingly to Gawain who scowled at him.
"How is Athom?" Arthur asked as he walked into the small area where the horses stood.
"He's asleep." Range said, pulling on his shirt and towering several inches over the other man. "He will never see from his left eye again I am sorry to say, and we must keep his fingers covered so they do not bleed. With some rest he should be better." He looked over at Tristan as he finished, "Maybe Tristan can teach him to sleep as soundly as he does."
Tristan managed to stand and shake himself off as Range laughed, the sound echoing through the trees like an animal's call. "Funny." He said, turning and walking toward the horses.
"We need to get moving." Arthur said curtly.
"We are due at the roman's house in one week." Lancelot added, throwing his saddle over the back of his horse.
"It may take twice that with the snows on the passes and the wagon." Range said looking to Arthur. "We could take her on horse back…"
"Too dangerous." Lancelot and Arthur chimed, the leader and knight looking at each other in confusion.
"Lancelot if you were any more like our great leader I might be forced to hurt you." Range said with a grin as he lifted his own saddle, "Now why don't you go and grovel." He motioned the older knight away with a wave of the hand.
"One of these days my friend, we will be allowed to fight." Lancelot replied.
"And one of these days we will bare witness to your great ego bursting and I will have no choice but to laugh." He retorted, tightening the saddle strap. The rest of the knights laughed as they went about their morning business, oblivious to the smoke that Tristan could smell on his hawk when it returned from it's hunt.
