Disclaimer: Disclaimer: Same as before…. I have researched the physical consequences of crucifixion and this is what most of the sites I found agreed upon as the main causes of death, and how the punishment itself was meted out. Hel is the female Saxon God of Death.
Marblez: Right…….Here:O)
Babaksmiles: Lancelot did need a bit of a knock back didn't he? But he does come across as this arrogant in the film, but less obvious, so I wanted to show what I thought he could be like if he really wanted a particular woman…and I thought it would be nice to have Devon be rude to him! Dag is so loyal and I just want to hug him all the time…Finally I am able to get it to the point where she does! There will be a little fluff this chapter, but the heavy stuff will be after the big battle (should she survive…) The Sarmatian women, according to my research, were extremely scary and certainly she would be more than happy to kill on a whim…which is why I think Tristan likes her so much! LOL It's how I imagine Heaven…I fear little except living and I want that to show in Devon. Life is the hell we live…Heaven is what we get for surviving it…(a sentiment she will be reiterating to Dag in this chapter.)
Lucillaq: Bors is a real sweetie and I want him and Van in this story as much as possible. I think Devon sees Guinevere as divisive and with a hidden agenda (which she has really); and I think that as she herself is so brutally honest she cannot stand that kind of duplicity in others.
Calliann: I ca, because it is! I will naught more argument on this muchly contested issue! Yeah the Jols and Tristan thing should be funny…worried, chatty Jols and passive, silent Tristan! LOL It becomes a little more apparent this chapter – the old lady will be back more in the next chapter where you'll find out some more about her….poor Devon, it is bad… but it is a lot lighter than 'Little Bird..' which was based heavily on a very dark period of my life. This, however, is not and so is funny (unlike miserable me:O) Lucan will feature more, and of course we get to have a happy for Dag…. All good really. More cow bashing may come to light…we'll see! Defo some Gally bashing though! LOL I'll probably do Lancelot story next as my Mum has pointed out that in all my stories he never gets the female main character (I baulk at calling them the 'heroine' just to Mills & Boon!) ROFL
Twilight Falcon: More of that in this chapter!
SpectralLady: Yeah, and I nearly got lynched the last time I did it! LOL Well, that was certainly one way to finish a story:O) Yeah Dag loves her and will be lovely to her this chapter when he finds out about her life. She really is not as tough as she looks, but life makes us all adopt armour to get through it. I think Dag will be the one to chink through that armour. As I said to Babaksmiles life is hell, and Heaven is what we get for surviving it…I want Devon to reflect that thought.
June BirdieI'm glad it was only practically…if it had been completely I would have had a blank review! LOL Glad you liked it though. Yeah, tact and diplomacy do not look to be Devon's strong point – but the little witch needed dealing with (mainly as I do not want to deal with the whole Arthur/Guinevere/Lancelot triangle thing) and so I thought that the best way….sort of! LOL Pleased you liked it and hope you like this one too..
Aelia O'HessionGlad you liked it! Well, both Lancelot and Guinevere deserved it (plus I do NOT want to do down the whole triangle road…it's been done to death!) Dag will find out and will be heart stoppingly sweet (this bit is just FOR YOU!) I only pray you like it…… Loved your chapter 15…did I review? I think I did…anyway…loved it!
LaurelinReNope, according to the online Old English baby names database it is a female name meaning Defender….but it was the first I heard of it, so maybe it's unisex? But I have to say I do like it. BFG! Yeah I think that sums up our Dag perfectly. He is such a cutie, every woman should have one…..though I don't think men as lovely as him even exist anymore, did they ever? She is like me on the temper front I have to admit….not so much these days, but certainly when I was younger! I'm just glad that we did not have swords back then….I would have had a body count that Schwarzenegger would be proud of! ROFL No, no dungeon as such….you'll find out this chapter (I think I've strung it out long enough). But you're on the right track…you could give old Sherlock Holmes a run for his money! No, she does not know Pelagius is dead or that Germanius had a hand in his killing. She will NOT be happy when she finds out….loyalty is all to her and she loved that man a lot…but his death will help her and Arthur become closer. My thanks to a faithful reviewer:O)
lilstrummrgrl527: Yeah, didn't you want to push Lancelot off the battlements! LOL I don't think Devon thinks before engaging mouth; so she wouldn't care about whether it was public or not! LOL You and your friend's point is exactly right, and the reason I don't like her at all – and why many women don't…..she basically gives the rest of us a bad name! Devon's past will be in this chapter and Dag will be lovely to her.
Lunawolf: Horrible feeling is probably warranted for this chapter….sorry. I hope I keep it up too! I definitely hope you like this chapter too!
Evenstar-mor2004: I agree with you, they do. I had one friend who would make Cynthia Payne look like a nun! Then she wondered why her husband divorced her! Hopefully you'll like the Devon/Dagonet interaction in this chapter.
WARNING: BAD LANGUAGE AND A GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION OF A CRUCIFIXION, SO READ AT YOUR OWN PERIL.
All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.
'—' signifies thoughts.
"—" signifies speech.
Anyway…chapter six!
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Heart & Soul
Chapter Six – The Past
Jols knocked on Tristan's door "Tristan? You in there?" he was just about to turn away and head down to the tavern, he needed someone to help her and if not the silent knight then he would call on one of the others…though who, he did not know.
Arthur probably, but …she didn't seem to like him; which was a shame as he knew his commander liked her…a lot. But at the end of the day he needed someone to talk to and Arthur was probably the best one; after Dag and Tristan. The others were a bit…well, he hated to say it, silly…especially Galahad.
He rolled his eyes as he thought of the youngest knight. He knew for a fact that whilst he made the other knights laugh, he drove Tristan – and himself – to distraction with his, fairly, constant whining. He was hoping that if Devon stayed, and he prayed to the Goddess she would, then she might knock the boy into shape off the battlefield ….something he and all the others had failed at.
Tristan opened the door and sleepily peered at the worried looking squire in front of him. He was just about to swear, when Devon's word filtered back to him "You do not do the man justice…for he is more than a mere squire to you" – she was right, he was a friend full as much as the other knights.
He bit back the words and stared at the man before him "Jols, what is it that could not wait until morning? If Bors is so drunk again that Van thinks he's dead, Devon might help or Dagonet…."
Jols did not grin this time at the rare unintentional jest by the scout – he spoke the one word that he knew would gain him access to the silent knight "Devon."
0-0-0-0-0-0
Back at the stables, Dag had followed her into the hayloft and they sat down. He sat next to her and she heaved a sigh "would you like me to move? I do not wish to crowd you…" he asked thinking that maybe his size was intimidating her.
She glanced at him and the pain and fear that filled her eyes made him catch his breath. Unconsciously he reached out a hand to brush her cheek "Won't you tell me what causes you so much distress Devon?" Fear was not something he would associate with this woman.
She sighed again and grasped his hand – she told Van she would tell him and she never lied "I… I had a family when we came from Sarmatia; parents only, no siblings. My mother had a difficult birth with me and it left her barren." The words were coming at a rush and he was having trouble keeping up.
"Our owner was not a bad man – he seemed nice enough. We were always hungry, but that was Romans for you. We worked hard, but we survived. Then he died and his son took over….it all changed.
He did not want to keep buying more slaves, so he started demanding that the ones he had produced children that would grow into more slaves for him." She closed her eyes.
"If…if a husband couldn't impregnate his wife fast enough…our…our owner would. My mother fought him….every time…but she could not conceive…" there was a long silence, before she could control herself enough to press on.
"He told my father he would have a new wife….my father did not want one. He loved my mother dearly, they had been childhood sweethearts, so they were given a choice – yield or die. They chose to die together rather than live apart….I have never been more proud of them than I was at that moment." Her eyes were swimming, but her voice was so full of love and pride that Dagonet nearly forgot himself and hugged her.
"He was a cruel man, and could not believe they would choose death. So he…he….." she swallowed a few times "he …."
"What?" Dagonet knew it to be bad "Devon you can speak any thought, tell me any memory and I will not judge you….you are my friend and I will always love you as such."
She flung her arms round his neck then, her first major gesture of affection towards him "He crucified them…." She whispered in his ear.
Dagonet went rigid; he had heard the Romans had done this to the Christians in the early days of the new religion and indeed had done it to their enemies, many races had in war. But….but this was….was…he couldn't think…
"He crucified your parents?" though incredulous, he could not help the anger that seeped into his voice; that any race could be so barbaric to another….and for nothing.
No crime had been committed, no rule broken. Only a love that would not be denied…..a deep vow that would not be fragmented; it was then he realised where Devon got her deep sense of loyalty and honour from.
She had sat back, releasing the grip she had around his neck; almost shrinking back inside herself, it wrenched his heart – she looked so small then, so shattered….so destroyed "I was made to watch….I watched them die…it is a horrible way to die Dag….it really is…they were flogged first, until they were raw, around the legs and buttocks.
Then they were nailed by the feet and wrists and then tied also, just perchance the weight of their bodies dragged them down through the nails." Her voice carried all around the stable…echoing and at the same time almost dead.
"They took 2 days to die. They eventually suffocated – their legs couldn't hold them up for long due to their wounds and so they would sag down, but then they would need to breathe so they would push up – my mother would scream at the pain as she put pressure on the nails in her feet and wrists – then they would slump down again, they couldn't breathe out properly and so would get cramps….they would cry out from the pain…." She shuddered.
"I could do naught to help them…for 2 days he made me watch. He would offer every few hours to cut them down if they bowed to his will, but they would not yield. He would tell them over and over how they would leave me orphaned; but, even when they could no longer speak, they would shake their heads.
He told me it was God's will that we obeyed him and his holy mother church….I hated him then; him, his race and his filthy religion." Dagonet understood in that moment her deep dislike of Romans in general and Roman Christians in particular.
"After they were dead he buried them with a Christian burial, something he knew they would not want….I wanted to cut his throat, to torture him, to…." she bit back a sob, as Dagonet continued to hold her hand – a cold, icy feeling in the pit of his stomach.
"I……I…." she stopped and shook her head.
Dagonet sat back "what? There is nothing you cannot tell me Devon…I will never judge you, I swear."
She looked at him beseechingly "I…I dug them up….I couldn't let this muddy land have their flesh as it had eaten their lives…sucked up their blood as it had run out of their wounds…. I dragged them into the woods behind his house and burnt them as was our custom….I waited until dawn - my father's favourite time of the day - and then I spread their ashes to an eastern wind." Lancelot and Arthur shared a look.
"So they could return to Sarmatia?"
"Aye…I knew naught else to do…"
"You did right…" he gripped her shoulder "In you stead, I would have done the same."
She smiled gratefully at him, before continuing "he took me to Rome….as his personal servant. He had not tried to touch me in any way, and I was becoming suspicious. We arrived at his father's friend's house." She smiled at the memory "it had a round table in it….it was Pelagius' house.
He taught me that all men are born free from their first breath; and I believed then I had met the only decent Roman that ever lived.
We stayed a month and it was the happiest of my life since I had left Sarmatia; he was a good man. He had offered to buy me from my master, but the bastard refused. On the return journey it became apparent why - he said I would be his mistress when we returned to Briton; that I would bear him many strong sons and be a good concubine and slave.
I spat at him and he laughed. He whipped me with this strap that had little metal discs in it….he nearly flayed the skin from my back." She shuddered at the memory "I nearly died, but they rubbed salt in the wounds to prevent infection….though the pain…."
Dagonet breathed deeply through his anger; one major hate the knight had - the one thing that would make him completely lose his temper - was the mistreatment of women and children…and this was mistreatment on a grand scale…
"There was a roman soldier, Justus Tiberius, he was a good man. I was 13 then, he was 17; he had joined Flavius' household, that was my owner's name, whilst we were in Rome. He hated what was being done to me, and we talked when we could…I…I liked him…he was kind; he was like a young Pelagius' - he was a follower of his – in fact I think that lovely man may have encouraged him to join us to watch over me.
When we reached Briton, Flavius tried to rape me and so I cut his throat….Justus tried to protect me and the other soldiers killed him. I threw one off the cliff and fled; but it proved to me even more that Pelagius and his teachings were just and right, and that he was a wonderful man if those that followed him would help one such as I.
I was on my own from then on until I met….him…5 summers past. I'd been alone then for…." She thought for a moment "11 summers by then."
11 summers alone….11… Dagonet could not imagine spending all that time by himself "did you have no one in all that time?"
"No one…I helped out in villages and forts if I needed to find food and clothing in the winter months, but generally for most of that time I kept to the forests and plains, and stayed by myself. I….I learnt to prefer it that way. In the end Dagonet, a lot of people made me nervous. I felt uncomfortable…all the noise and talking…it made me edgy…it made me…unhappy…I learnt to love my solitude, as well as hate it."
"Who was he?" Dag prodded gently, his body frozen in horror but his face still holding gentle warmth and kindness out to her.
"Wolf…he was a Woad. I had got caught by a small band of Saxons. I had fought as best I could, but they stabbed me and left me for dead; he found me and brought me back to his village. I never trusted Woads, still don't to tell true, but I trusted him. Straight off, no questions – just like you."
Her glazed vision cleared suddenly as she came back to the present and she gazed up fondly at the large man before her. "You couldn't look more different to him…" Dagonet was grateful for that; he would have hated to look like him, to wonder if that was why she liked him so much "but you have eyes like his….kind. No, in fact yours are kinder…you have a pure heart, Dag. But there is that warmth in their depths that his had."
She caressed his cheek with her good hand, and he had to deliberately force himself not grasp it and presses kisses into the palm. His heart broke for her…
Her speech had slowed once she had got past the trauma of her parents deaths; but still, there was an urgency to her account that did not bode well.
"He nursed me back to health, and we found we developed feelings for each other." She smiled and then sighed "I loved him Dag…I loved him so very much. We had a year together…a wonderful year and I believed that maybe the horror was behind me. That what he told me was true; that I could hope for the future, love to live."
She looked at his hand holding her own and started plucking absently at it, smoothing the fingers and then holding it against her own small one. "You have such large hands Dagonet, really big…." She rubbed her cheek against one "but so gentle…like you…"
She sighed as he didn't answer "if all men were like you Dag I would not be sat here…my life would have been so different…" his heart flooded with warmth at her genuinely sincere words, as she gathered herself and went on.
"I had hope and love for one year…..he taught me to bow and sword as well as I do now…..then the Saxons came. It was not a big band of them; I thought they were a raiding party at the time; but maybe they were scouting, considering what we know now – there were about 30 of them.
They came through the village like animals…..no, not even animals; animals do not mutilate, butcher and destroy as they did. They burnt everything and killed all that breathed.
We fought…we did….but they killed them all. The whole village; men, women and children….but most importantly to me – they killed Wolf. He died in my arms; whilst they laughed. Then they stabbed me in the stomach; I don't know how I lived. I shouldn't have – I went to the gates of death, but came back; for a second time.
I lost our baby…I was 3 months along and only just showing. He was so happy I was with child….he really was. When I lost the baby, I lost my heart. It was then I let the rage take over."
Her face turned bitter, the hatred spilling into her voice "I made them pay…oh yes I did. It took me 6 months, but I tracked them – through every burned village, past every mangled corpse. I found their boats first; killed their guards and then burnt the boats that would see them safely off this rock.
Then I went after them….one by one I picked them off….in the end the five that were left were almost mad with fear, were convinced Hel, their God of death, was stalking them; they turned on each other and I finished off the survivors."
She looked at Dagonet then, clearly and straight in the eye "I believe in Heaven Dag…I believe it because I've seen it…my family, Wolf – they were there; and what I envied them the most was they were at peace. I don't think I've ever truly known any peace for the past 16 summers.
But I don't believe in hell; I don't believe in it, because life is the hell we live…
Heaven is what we get for surviving it.
I do not fear much Dagonet, I certainly do not fear death; the only thing I fear in this world is living….because living is such torture to me….death is what I pray for every night when I close my eyes, and every day I curse the first breath I take on waking." She finished quietly and with a chilling conviction.
Dagonet could no longer hold back; he grasped her to him and hugged so tightly she thought she might break….but she felt a small tug at her heart and another piece began to beat in tune with the first.
Just as another piece of his soul thawed, as her arms snuck round his neck and returned his embrace; and for one brief, but blissful moment, the rage inside her soul was silent.
She lost herself in the tight embrace of the gentle man that held her, who whispered nothings in her ear; just soft words of comfort and of solace – but who left her in no doubt that she was no longer alone.
Below them the knights had gathered, including Arthur, at first intent on trying to help and instead had stayed, transfixed, hearing every word…even the old woman, now with tears coursing down her cheeks, had heard the honey-eyed girl's story and wondered no longer as to why her heart had died.
0-0-0-0-0
Galahad was in awe of Devon "She took on 30 Saxons!" he muttered to Gawain as they left the stables.
"No Gal…she picked them off. She systematically hunted them down and slaughtered them with a determined hatred I hope I never feel." His brother quietly explained.
Tristan, who had come with Jols, admired her even more now….to be so resolute in your need for revenge and the destruction of your enemy – that took a determination and hatred that was cold and slow burning. He smiled, she could teach him much.
He also noted the rage was still there. He thought back to his conversation a little earlier with Jols.
0-0-0-0-0
Jols had spoken the one word that gained him access "Devon."
Tristan dragged him into the room "Is she alright? Where's Dagonet?" The scout knew the gentle knight would not willingly leave her unattended.
"She is alright and he is with her…but…"
"But what?" Tristan was irritated, he hated people who hedged. That was another reason why he liked Devon so much…she just said whatever she was thinking; no tact, no dressing it up – if it was on her mind, bothering her, she said it.
Jols basically recounted what the old woman had told him. "That is not good…" Tristan agreed "Though I cannot see what we can do to change that kind of mind set."
"Could we not speak to her? There are only 4 of us she trusts completely….you, me, Van and Dag. If we all spoke to her, maybe it would help. I mean if she saw that we cared….." he thought for a second "maybe it wouldn't hurt if we could get the others too…the more that she sees worried for her the better it might make her feel…."
"I doubt it, but you and I could speak first. If it seems we are crowding she will run." He shrugged, cutting off the frantic speech from the other man. Goddess, that chatter would make his head ache if he heard it over long.
"Do you think? I mean…"
"Aye….." Tristan butted in again before he could get started "she is used to herself only; she will not take orders – however kindly given. Arthur is finding that out."
"Well, you make sense…." Jols spoke slowly this time, as if weighing up other options.
"I generally do, it's just that people rarely listen…" Tristan flashed a sardonic smile.
Jols grinned; who knew the scout had a sense of humour… They left his room and made their way to the stables, it was there they met the others and heard her...heard her recounting every painful memory.
Jols doubted he would ever forget the look on Arthur's face as they heard Dag's exclamation ring out.
To know that the Rome he held so dear, the Church he held up as what he should aspire to, was advocating such atrocities, or at least turned a blind eye to them and for such little reason, was a severe blow to him.
The only thing that softened the look was when she spoke of Pelagius. But even then Arthur looked stricken.
The knights had filed out and had gone en masse to the meeting room; the only two that had spoken being Galahad and Gawain. The formers comments being met with rolling eyes by the other knights; except the latter who had spoken as best he could, without becoming too angry at the young knight he thought of as a brother.
Jols had followed, feeling as much a part of this as the rest of them. He sat at the round table with the knights; no one said anything, or even looked surprised.
"Well, what do we do?" Gawain asked.
"I wish I could just go away and bury myself" Lancelot spoke with a shudder "I mean if anyone is suited to that woman like a fitted shirt, it's our Dag – she needs someone gentle and kind….and there was I coming onto her like an oversexed hound!" he sighed and buried his head in his hands.
Bors slapped him on the back as he passed to his own seat "Lance you're always like that mate….you weren't to know she was different…"
"But I did know…we all did…didn't we? We all felt she was different, right?" he looked round his brother knights and they nodded "I am a very bad man…." He hung his head once more.
Despite the recent revelations, Arthur smiled at Lancelot. Know matter what, he knew he had a good heart underneath it all; and knew that Devon saw it too "You are not 'a very bad man' you dolt! She would not have defended you so this evening if she truly thought that…from what I've witnessed from her and heard this night, she would parted you from your head if you had been. You have a good heart Lancelot, it's just it's usually drowned out by other parts of your anatomy!"
The other knights sniggered, and Lancelot grinned and then sobered "Aye, but I still feel terrible about it in this case."
"Well, what can we do to help her?" Galahad spoke this time.
"I don't think we can. The only one who can help would be Dag…and he's already there." Tristan answered.
"What are your thoughts on this Tristan? She values your friendship too…." Arthur asked the scout.
"I think we should let her come to us if and when she wants to."
"Not let on we know?"
"No….it would be barbaric to make her keep retelling the story. No, we can say we heard – but not force the issue with her before that."
"Anything else?"
"As I say….leave it to Dag. If anyone can help her it will be him."
"Ah, but you seem to know a fair bit yourself."
"What are friends for?" replied Tristan, with a rare smile.
0-0-0-0-0
Back in the hayloft Devon and Dagonet were unaware that the other knights had witnessed her story.
She stayed in Dagonet's embrace for some time….he heard buried in his neck, his soft breathing in her ear. His arms were wrapped tightly around her, neither one aware of the pain they were inflicting on themselves and each other from the pressure on their wounds…either not aware, or maybe just not caring.
"Do you hate me?" she asked eventually.
He drew back as if stung "No! Why would I hate you, Devon? By the Gods, you have been through the worst of times….why would I hate you for what is not your fault?"
"I…I…did not save them…I only watched them die…and Wolf…we fought side by side, but I played dead when they stabbed me…."
"You were 13 and owned as a slave…..what else could you do? Your parents would not have wished you to die for their sakes Devon. As it was you nearly did…
As for Wolf, would you rather have let them know you were alive to finish their work? You played dead and were able to survive and avenge his death were you not?"
She nodded silently. "Then you did all you could…" he hesitated "besides….I could not ever hate you Devon; I….I like you too much."
She smiled then and stared into his eyes, something she rarely did he'd noticed "I like you too Dag….I like you muchly…" she smiled.
"Muchly?" he grinned.
"A word my mother used a lot…she used to say it to my father. She used to say…." Devon stopped for a moment as tears flooded her eyes, and composed herself "She used to say "I love you very muchly'…she said much just wasn't enough for the love she felt for him…."
She saw for a moment a look in the man's eyes opposite hers…a look she had last seen levelled at her mother from her father – the last look they had shared on this earth before death claimed them. It made her catch her breath, and she impulsively leaned forward brushing his lips with hers.
The large and gentle knight just sat in surprise; he had not expected her to kiss him. She took his non response as a sign she had offended him – her honey eyes clouded and went to a dark amber "I…I am sorry…...I…you…I just…." She stammered and went to leave.
She got no further than the ladder, regaining control of his senses, Dagonet caught her arm and she turned. He was smiling and shaking his head before he pulled her gently to him and let his lips rest against hers.
Tears pricked her eyes as she realised he was letting her decide whether to kiss him or not, and how deeply. She pressed her lips to his, and then gently pushed her tongue against his bottom lip.
His arms tightened around her and the kiss deepened. To both Devon and Dagonet, it felt as they had come home…..finally…there was some peace; another piece of her heart began to beat and another part of his soul began to thaw.
0-0-0-0-0
Far away, too distant even for the ever watchful scout to hear, the drums began to sound……the approaching storm was almost upon them.