disclaimer: see prologue

author's note: I apologize for the incredibly long delay in an update in my fanfiction. I had to deal to a sticky keyboard, a death in the family, and something being wrong with my brother's dog. I apologize, and I am definitely going to work my buns off to get this down!

hmm, lotsa reviews for my first chapter! Well, I must now make sure to satisfy my readers, aswell as myself -cheshire grin-.

Meredith- protector of the sea

Amon- Hidden.. and for those who were wondering what the fiendish mule's name be.. well, its Mule. -chuckles- I couldn't think of anything that suited the animal- mule would have to work.

Traveler's Forgotten Road

Chapter One: Theft

- - - -

The bitter cold was all that greeted his retreating soul. It was pleasant in comparison to the sweltering heat he had felt but a moments past. Soft voices loitered in his thrumming ears, sweet songs he had once heard but sadly forgotten over his life. He no longer heard the battle about him, his eyes no longer focused upon the men and women that so gruesomely fought one another. In the distance he heard a faint voice, soft amongst the softest of vocalizations in his mind. The odd accent caressed his cheeks, ran quickly through his hair as if they were the spidery digits which belonged to the owner of the voice. He felt the soft brush of hair against his cheek, and finally a kiss upon his dying lips.

"Wait for me.. My love."

The words hammered his heart, and his eyes finally saw.

A hawk circled the battle field over head. Circling her dying master and friend, and finally he only saw darkness.

- - - -

Lids fluttered open to reveal near-black irises. Soft breath gently cast aside clinging strands of hair whilst elegantly hands peeled back the thick covers of the large bed to reveal a lean body barely covered- save by a pair of breeches. He sat up, light filtering in through the window and igniting the slippery sheen of his perspiration from his dreadful dreams. Light? His eyes traveled to the window quickly, finding the full moon glaring through his window. The turbulent fog had disappeared within the night, as had the clouds, and rain.

But, how?

But a few hours previous Tristan had had to ring out every single piece of clothing he had worn that day, and he had been able to fill an entire water tub to the rim with the sky water.

Yet, now there was not a trace of the previous rain fall in the sky. He assumed there would still be large puddles and muddy streets, tired, annoyed guards and horses which quivered with the anticipation of sun upon their hides.

He slowly stood from the bed and walked to the window. He glanced out, looking towards the sky, before glancing towards the ground and finally towards the gate. A small quivering light caught his attention and he averted his gaze from the gate towards the stables which housed the Knights' horses, and few lucky travelers. A small light was all that flickered from a single window.

Now who would possibly be up at this hour tending to the horses? Jols did not have duty until dawn, and it was obvious from the position of the sky that dawn was far from nearing. What if...

What if a thief?

The Knights' horses were proud creatures, war horses that had extreme training and incredible stamina, what thief wouldn't miss a chance to take such glorious animals?

His face flickered with slight alarm, and he turned quickly and headed for the door. Grabbing his scimitar and grasping the sheath firmly in his left hand he hurried from his chambers, down the lightly lite corridors and out the guarded doors towards the stables.

- - - -

Lithe hands danced across the dapple gray coat, smoothing down the hide of Amon, whilst he grunted in pleasure. In the stall beside Amon was Mule, contentedly chewing on hay which was quite refreshing in comparison to the soggy grass they had had to eat for the past fortnight.

"Oblong angel sitting upon her throne, eyes of daring scarlet, heart of hollow stone." Soft words were uttered, and Meredith moved from the Stallion's flanks towards his shoulder. Her hands moved along creases, along scars which were nearly untraceable amongst the gray. Her hand gently moved up towards his withers, and finally back down his spine. "The stone shall not be shattered, the eyes shall not be blind, the throne is but a speck of lice 'pon a hind." A smile graced delicate features, and Meredith smiled softly at the gray arabian. She sighed heavily and the stallion replied with blowing hot air across her bare face. "Oh Amon. I promise we won't be here long. Just long enough to get our barrings and then leave."

The stallion replied with a soft nicker.

An uncomfortable silence fell across the stables. Not a creature moved, not a breath was taken.

Amon's ears pressed back against his skull, large nostrils flaring as if to prove his masculinity. Meredith turned ever so slightly, and listened. She heard nothing, saw nothing, but she felt eyes burning through her skin. The creak of the rafters and finally movement.

She ripped towards the corner of the stall Amon was placed in, hand grabbing at two swords which sat snuggly beside the saddle. She held them up in front of her criss crossed just in time to save herself from a fatal blow from the being who had lurked above. Eyes wide and adrenaline already coursing through her veins, Meredith stared wide eyed at the calm man before her. His oriental blade was locked between her own foreign blades.

His near black eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What are you doin' here?"

"I could ask the same, Sir." Meredith replied coldly. She ripped her blades away from him, and quickly exited the stall. Amon snorted and pawed at the stall door, as if asking to aid his master. Meredith and the man circled one another, watching each other with eyes that were unyielding of every single detail that could relinquish some information on the other's intent. Well, it was clear to Meredith that this man wished to bring her harm.

Almost at the same time the two combatants sprung forward, hefting their foreign blades to deliver some form of a blow. Curved metal met octagonal edges, the sweet scent of grass and rain met the scent of forest and timber. The smell of sweat met mud and foreign spices. Meredith growled as their weapons locked together. "Who are you!" The man asked calmly, although it was obvious his teeth were gritted together.

"I need not tell you!"

"Well then we'll be at this for a long time," a ominous grin crossed the man's odd features and it truly scared Meredith. Here she was, minding her own business when she is suddenly attacked by some weird psycho who lingers in the rafters of a stables.

They pulled back, their weapons unfolding from one anothers'. Meredith stumbled slightly on slightly protruding edge and she fell back into a pile of hay. The man grinned and walked forward, he hefted the blade to her chin and jabbed the point lightly into her skin. "Tell me who you are! Were you planning on stealing anything? Hmm?"

Meredith gritted her teeth in annoyance, and spat at the man's trousers. "I need not tell you.." She replied in a whisper.

"Fine." The man repeated, and he brought the blade above his head and was just allowing it to descend upon the prone woman, when a large bastard sword clashed with that of the oriental metal. A proud man stood beside the crazy one, curly hair and eyes of darkest blue. He was garbed in roman trousers and a shirt. "Arthur?" The crazy man whispered.

"Tristan. That is not the way we greet our guests."