When Iraina next opened her eyes, she was staring at the roof of the wagon, watching as the cloth curtains moved with the bouncing wagon. She tried sitting up, but found the task slightly more difficult with the amount of furs and cloaks laid on her. As she was watching the side of the wagon, the cloth was moved aside, and Guinevere poked her head in.
"You're awake!" she exclaimed. Iraina nodded and scouted over, patting the spot next to her, inviting Guinevere to join her in the wagon. The woad princess quickly hopped into the moving wagon, and immediately lunged over and hugged Iraina.
Iraina sat there, and awkwardly patted her friend on the back, not really sure where this burst of emotion was coming from. Guinevere pulled away with watery eyes. "I'm sorry," she said with a smile, "it's just, I'm am so happy that you are still alive. I am going to start calling you a cat with the amount of times you have brushed death."
"I believe you are overreacting, Guinevere." Iraina stated, clearly disturbed by her friend's reaction.
"Overreacting?" Guinevere exclaimed. "You practically were dead! If it weren't for Dagonet keeping you heart going, and Lancelot breathing for you, you probably would not be here right now!"
Iraina was confused. "Keeping my heart going? Breathing for me? What happened?"
Guinevere calmed herself down and told her the tale of what had transpired after she had been pulled from the lake. When she had finished, Iraina was silent for a moment. A small part of her wished that she had been conscious when Lancelot had...kissed...breathed for her. As soon as she realized what she was thinking, Iraina shook those thoughts away. What was wrong with her? Why did these thoughts keep coming to her mind?
"Rain?" Guinevere's softly spoken voice pulled Iraina from her thoughts.
"Yes Gwen?"
"Have they taken the chance?" Iraina looked at her sharply. Then slowly nodded.
"Yes. They did. And I was wrong to misjudge them."
"Good." I have a question for you then."
"Alright." As soon as she agreed to answer the question, Iraina saw the mischievous glint in her friends eye and almost immediately regretted it.
"You watch the one knight a lot. Why?" Iraina raised an eyebrow at her friend.
"I don't know what you are talking about." was her swift reply. Guinevere was barely able to contain her smile, but decided to drop the subject.
"Alright. I will leave you alone for now." she made to leave the wagon, the paused and turned back to Iraina. "Only think, what happens to our country if these knights leave? What will happen to us? We need them. Or, at least, we need Arthur." With those words, she left the tent, leaving Iraina to ponder her words.
After a long day of travel, the caravan finally pulled into the fort. Iraina pushed the furs off of herself, and climbed out of the wagon, to hear the bishop of Rome speaking to Arthur. She was surprised at the frosty tone that came from the reply Arthur had for the bishop.
"Bishop Germanus. Friend of my father." With that he strode away, leaving the bishop gaping behind him. Then Iraina was witness to a beautiful thing in her mind. She watched as Lancelot walked up to the roman soldier who held the box containing their discharge papers. He grabbed all six at one time and handed one out to each of the men, one at a time. Iraina watched as she saw each man's face light up with hope and happiness. They were free.
Suddenly Iraina was grabbed from behind. A hand went around her neck, while another went down her waist, to her leg. She could smell alcohol, and the stench that came from not bathing. "Oh, you're a pretty lady," A greasy voice said into her ear. The man's hand went lower on her leg, and he unknowingly pressed against the arrow wound that she had received on the ice.
Iraina gave a cry of pain as his fingers dug into the wound. Immediately, six knights were standing in front of her and the man holding her, each with a weapon out. Lancelot was the first to speak.
"Let her go roman, or I fear you will not take one more step with your life." the dark haired knight said, using the word 'roman' as a slur. The man holding her only took a second to decide before letting go of Iraina and shoving her into the mass of men before her. She stumbled and almost fell, but Lancelot caught her again. With her hands on his chest, she looked up into his dark brown eyes.
"Are you hurt?" he asked. Iraina shook her head.
"His hand aggravated the wound on my leg, that's all." she told him. Pushing off his chest, Iraina tried standing, but found that her right leg wouldn't support much of her weight.
"Here, I'll help you." Lancelot said. Putting his sword away, he placed an arm around her waist, and together, they walked into the meeting room.
Sorry again for another short chapter, but, I hope you will be satisified until I get the next few up. This story is starting to wind down (maybe) so, I hope you all have been enjoying it!