To anti-social17: Thanx and I hope to complate the whole story!

As they rode they talked of the days ahead. What they might do, where they would go, when they would leave. As usual Arthur listened to the chatter with good humor. Ah yes he had heard it all before. Young Galahad's assurance that he was returning home, Bors on again off again commitment to his woman and children, Gawain's desire to wed a Sarmatian girl and sire Sarmatian babies and Lancelot's constant reminder to them all that he would remain their friend by protecting their families if they were away. It was old, well worn banter and it comforted them like a heavy fur on a winter's night.

Now as they crested the small rise looking over the valley below, they saw in the distance the approach of the Bishop's contingent and briefly they sat and contemplated the importance of this moment. Arelenne looked to Tristan who as usual was on the far right of the group always ready to dash away scouting ahead if Arthur so commanded. His gaze seemed to look beyond the Bishop's carriage to something far more elusive than the paper scroll the Bishop carried granting his release. Lately Arelenne had become concerned that Tristan seemed more withdrawn than usual. Not that Tristan was one you could call lively but it was obvious to Arelenne that the future troubled the man, not from what he said but from what he didn't say. He never shared his thoughts, never hinted to the path he may take once released. He seemed divided in his heart, unwilling to stay in on the isle but yet unable break the hidden ties that now bound him to this land. There was little Arelenne could do to ease the uncertainty Tristan must have felt but he was determined to be there for Tristan even if Tristan didn't notice.

Arelenne was a warrior not a healer but somehow through the years she had become the one they turned to when wounded or troubled, well most of them turned to, though Tristan had rarely sought her assistance. Indeed Arelenne did seem to understand better than most how to set a broken bone or reduce a fever. As the years progressed she became their emotional rock too, the one to advise and guide. Her quiet confidence and imposing stature gave her an air of credibility that seemed lacking in many of the others. If the girl said it was all right then it must be they concluded, because she just seemed to understand these matters. Some thought her gifted, even magical, but the reality was that she simply remembered the ways of her mother. She recalls watching her care for their people, asking her why she did the things she did. She remembers her patience as she explained how the potions and medicines were made and she encouraged her to help her treat the sick and wounded.

She was quite the healer she thought sadly, wondering if she was still alive after all these years. Some things,she concluded, you never forget and others you never knew you knew until you had to use them.So while the others continued their chattering, Tristan stared at the distant carriage and Arelenne's thoughts again turned to Tristan.

There was something about the silent scout that intrigued her. The man was a brutal warrior and a stoic ally. He was always there to watch your back in a fight and defend you in time of need. Yet for all his battle hardness he was a gentle soul. Tristan was one with the land. He seemed to walk its ground and never leave a footfall. He was at home in the forest and the field and seemed to never disturb the air as he glided across the land. His two closest companions were his horse and the falcon. He constantly spoke in reverent tones to the horse but then Sarmatian's do believe that their horses carry the spirit of fallen warriors who will guide and protect them.

So really it was probably wise to be kind to your steed Arelenne decided especially if you wanted a safe ride.

The falcon though she was different. A creature of the wild and yet she would contentedly fly to Tristan's outstretched hand when he whistled. He whispered words to her that only she seemed to understand and he fed her treats not to lure her to his side but to reward her for her vigilant assistance. She trusted him and he, her, and Arelenne could see that unique bond.

By all thegods Tristan seemed to have everything that he needed, he was focused and should have been content and yet Arelenne couldn't help but feel that Tristan wanted something else, something he would never ask for. It wasn't like Tristan needed someone to take care of him but Arelenne was sure from the way Tristan often stared at their companions that he wished someone wanted him the way he could see they wanted each other. It constantly amused her that Tristan seemed oblivious to the fact that Arelenne too was alone, not that this needed to be the reason they seek comfort and solace from each other.

Indeed it had crossed Arelenne's mind that the only time that Tristan's guard is down is when he becomes preoccupied watching his friends' as they furtively touch and caress their lovers. Maybe that's why he never noticed Arelenne watching him and even more so that Arelenne often stayed close to him, talking to him even though he didn't answer. That's why sometimes Arelenne would place an arm around Tristan's shoulders or grasp his arm in knighthood or slap him on the back in good natured fun…simple gestures to remind Tristan that he was appreciated and respected, that he was important to them, to her. Arelenne hoped, she knew, actions speak loudly and such gestures said more than words ever could.

All too often in these troubled times such comfort and support is a rare gift to give to dear friends thought Arelenne, what man didn't need to feel that his place in the world was valued.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Bors announcing that their freedom draws closer as the Bishop's contingent enters the valley below.

Arelenne looked at Tristan and stated, "Tomorrow we are free men."

Tristan didn't turn to face her but shrugged his acknowledgment of the fact.

"Where will you go Tristan?" she asked.

"Home" was the simple reply.

A response yes but not an answer. Where is your home Tristan? she pondered where does your heart lie?

Arelenne continued, "when it is time to leave maybe we could ride together, it is a long and lonely way my friend."

For the first time Tristan turned to Arelenne and...

...they were interrupted by distant shouts and screams as raiding Woads descended upon the lightly guarded contingent.

"Ride" ordered Arthur.