A/N: Just kidding! Sorry about that little chapter confusion guys! I accidentally posted the wrong chapter. That just proves–yet again- that I'm not good with computers. Lol! Sorry. Well, here's the chapter you've all been waiting for-enjoy. Please Review; I love getting reviews, good or bad. Thanks. Oh, and tell me too, if Justice3 and I make a sequel, would you guys read it, and if so, have any ideas for it? Thanks. Oh, and one more thing…what are author alert lists? What does it mean if you are on someone's? Lol, I just don't know anything right now…
Zeriae- I'm glad you're enjoying the story. I apologize for my obviously green writing skills. I hope to further improve my talents in these next chapters to come. Also, I will be having someone editing my work now, so you should expect better quality writing from now on. Thanks.
Adarthang Lomedur- Yay! I haven't heard from you in a while. Thanks for reviewing! Sorry for killing Dag. I kind of had to. I'm still not sure all is going to live, but I figured I should at least kill one off. It kind of all depends on if I write a sequel, and if so, what it's about. So, we'll see.
ChildlikeEmpress- Thanks for reviewing! I'm glad you like my story! Hey, what's your name from? It sounds so familiar!
Nimue26- I don't think you ever got the email I sent you about our characters, so I'll just talk now. What are your ideas for Adima? Even if they don't do her much justice, I'm sure they're fine. Try me. I would like to put your oc's in my story. Please tell me any ideas you might have. Thanks for reviewing!
Aelfa- Yeah, I can understand how it's hard to imagine Tristan in a romance- I think he just hides his emotions, but deep down, he's a love slave! Lol. Well, I know several people like him and they're all great romantics. Besides, every good story (at least every story that I write in an attempt of being good) should have some romance in it! Lol. Thanks for reviewing.
Camlann- Thanks for the review! Sorry it took me so long to update! My mom had to edit the chapter first and it was taking her a while. Yeah, Adima's pretty cool. I think I tried not to make it seem too corny, but I think it turned out that way. Oops! I figured Lance would want to help his friends and since he didn't get as much 'air time' in the movie as I thought he would, I decided to add a little bit to his 'personality', if you will. Guinevere can be a dork-can't she? I guess she's just over protective though- and she's frustrated cuz she's got a lot on her mind right 'now'.
Anyways, that email I tried to send you was just about how I liked your story and I was wondering if you wanted to maybe have a sort of 'guest' appearance of characters. Like, I would have Dayn in my story (even if just for a little while) and you could have Adima. It might be a little late for that. Sorry you never got the email. I'll kill Justice3 for that! Lol. Thanks for reviewing!
By the way, I read your new chapter, but I couldn't review it cuz for some reason my computer won't let me review anyone's stories! So, I'll just tell you what I think now! I liked the chapter a lot. I think the flashbacks are awesome! I love flashbacks. I wonder where Niamh is. I just can't think of anything, unless she's been arrested again…It was cool how Dayn and Tristan kinda 'paired up' to look for her though. Oh! And I've thought of how Dayn looks (for me). I just saw 'The Grudge', and I think Dayn looks like Jason Behr!!! He's the main guy in the film…you really should see it. He's so hot! Anyways, yeah…update soon!
Chapter 8: Talso
Stepping backward on the snowy surface beside the ice blocks that continued to crumble over the former weight of the Saxon army, Talso breathed heavily and carefully sheathed her sword. She had not had a chance to kill anyone; what a disappointment. Though, it was not the Roman knights or the British natives she was charged with the destruction of. In her mind, the enemy was herself, and the cruel savages around her.
Her eyes glistened with hope for her two kin she had noticed on the battlefield of ice. She did not know them, but she was them; a Woad, who had only begun to feel the long lost joys of her homeland. She secretly hoped some day to join them in the wilderness, her kin.
Her colleague noticed her strengthened stare towards the knights. "Talso," he drew in labored breaths himself; his clothes were stained in sweat and splashes of lake water. "Let's go. We can't get to them now," the strongly built man's eyes were sharp and bold. They tore deeply into the horizon of trees before him, past the broken lake.
"Cynric," he spoke to his commanding officer, the son of his king. Cynric was walking past him. His expression was tired and his clothes drenched. He looked extremely upset, and he was overly disappointed with himself, and his men.
Cynric stopped to see what his right hand man had to say, a bitter look upon his face. What was he to say to his father when they met again? That he had failed him miserably? He would never be forgiven.
"Sir," Berc continued. "At least one of them is dead; maybe two." The smile he expected to see from his master failed to show, to Berc's disappointment.
Turning from the horrific scene of truthful death, Talso walked away from the grave site the frozen lake had become. She followed closely behind her leader, Berc on her trail. He was the only being she had ever encountered in her many years of hidden imprisonment with the Saxons that knew her true gender.
She intended to keep this a secret. When the right time came, she would leave the savagely world of these men behind, and return to her true homeland, which she was not about to give up to the Roman's either. She had fought for years for her well earned freedom. She couldn't wait to return home.
The wind created a rhythmic flow in the leaves that clung to the tall trees around her. She breathed in the fresh scent of evergreens and a small smile broke upon her face. Her amber locks twirled softly as the wind gushed through them, bringing to her, the strong stench of blood. Her frown was lost in a face of shadow.
"We will find another way around!" Cynric shouted to his broken men, who huddled close together as he stopped them from moving further. They all gathered before him, waiting patiently for their orders. "We will go east," he explained with a rigid, determined tone. This would have been the path Arthur and his men would have taken if the lake was proved too dangerous. "Berc, take your scouts and look ahead. See if there are any other passages across the woods that won't lead us too close to the natives." Berc nodded his head obediently and turned to Talso. He eyed her a moment, and she gave a week smile back. He then walked east with a small trail of followers, including the one woman in the Saxon army.
Cynric and the rest of the army stayed behind to try to collect any weapons our recourses that might be proved useful to them later on.
Drifting through the heavy maze of trees, the scouting party marched, Berc leading the way through the coming darkness. Talso walked quietly beside him. With a grave expression on his face, her turned to her and spoke softly.
"Anger is the fuel of hate, Talso," he explained. She did not quite understand and she showed him with an inquiring glance. "You want revenge, as do we all," he grinned slightly at the thought of sweet revenge. "Someday we will get it, and we shall slaughter our foes with ease," his grin faded into a devious smile.
Talso did not smile back, though she knew this is what Berc expected of her. She was angry with the knights, for all the killing they had accomplished on that day, but her army did just the same. The wind blows both ways, she thought to herself. They fight to survive, Saxons fight for land.
When she did not respond, Berc assumed she was too grieved to speak at all, and thought to leave her alone. "It isn't easy to live in this world is it?" she asked suddenly, a perplexed look upon her face. Her brow furrowed, trying to think of a decent answer for her question.
"Some say it's easier to die than to live in this world," Berc noted.
"Is that what you believe?"
Berc turned to his friend. "Those people are fools, unsatisfied with life. They expect people to pity them, take care of them. I won't do that, and I wouldn't ask it of you, or anyone else," his strong gaze fell upon Talso's. "I will make this world what I want it to be; I do not expect anyone else to do that for me. We must be strong," he concluded with a forceful tone, laden with enthusiasm.
"Strong," Talso repeated quietly to herself, contemplating in deep thought what he had just said. Was he right? Or would it just be easier to die sometimes?
She could find little answers for herself. Part of her was too shattered to think. War and battle left a bitter taste on her swollen tongue. She had been witness to too much pain and suffering and had been the cause of many deaths. Sometimes she wished she would fall asleep, and never awaken, just to save her sanity.
She pushed with her forefinger at a tender cut in her arm she'd received from outstretched branch just days ago. She picked at the dried blood with her fingertips, frowning as the stinging of the wound seeped through her skin. It was a small injury, one she barely noticed, but even the smallest of wounds was still a wound, and all wounds carry a secret poison within them.
She shuttered at the thought of her past. A vivid flash of memory coursed through her mind. She had received a wound much like this one when she had been captured by Berc and his scouts. She was naive then, not like she was now. Her mind had opened and a world of questions was answered through her experiences with the Saxon clan, but in return, another series of questions had constantly been surfacing, or some, resurfacing through her.
She wiped the newly drawn blood from the thin gash in her arm. When Berc had discovered a young woman had been taken in by one of his scouts on his violent raid, he found it hard to let her go. He didn't find it difficult, however, to behead the man who dared take a woman for himself.
After the raid, their party had gotten lost in the woods. The forests were truly a thicket of mazes. Few animals could be found to hunt, and though berries were plentiful, the Saxons were not clear on which were poisonous.
Berc would have forced the girl to feed upon any berry before he or his men to test its safety, but she could die soon that way, and therefore leave no other tester. He decided to make her a promise, which in her young naiveté she was certain he would keep: she would explain which fruits were edible until they found Cerdic and the others, and she would safely be returned home.
She would not return home, however, for another two years. During those two years, she had traveled with the Saxon army, cut her hair, and presented to all as a young man. Berc was the one soul who looked after her. Eventually, the two looked out for each other. It took a while for Talso to get over her capture, and she never truly got over it, but she accepted the fact, for a time, that she was a prisoner of war, and may be until her death. Though, she was determined to free herself, through death, or any other way.
She hated the cruel world she lived in. She hated the Saxons, she hated war. Death she hated, and pain. For every man, woman, and child she killed, a little part of her was lost as well, but she continued doing it, even as little as she could. She had to, to prove herself to her authorities. She had to prove to Berc.
Part of her embrace this man as a friend, and part as an enemy. Was he not the man who enslaved her in the bitter existence? Had he not pressured her, pushed into man-slaughter? He had ruined her life, shattered it, but still, he seemed to be the only one holding her upright. She could not find the words to describe her feelings for him, but she refused to call it love. Always in the end, she would conclude that it was he who was the cause of all her pain and suffering, her sweet longing for death, silence, to be deaf and blind to the entire world around her.
Was it worth it to even live? For her to draw breath? Her only hope was to find redemption, meeting a valiant end in the battle to decide whether her true people would find their freedom in her home land. This was her dream; all her faith held her to it. She could think of no other higher purpose for her to serve. That was it. She would accept her end like she accepts that the sky is blue, and that her heart, torn.
Talso stared ahead of her, down a path of silver trees, showered with frost and sparkled with snow flakes. A pearly white owl flew gracefully above her. For a moment, its light body sheltered her from the setting sun's rays, casting a dreary shadow upon the placid earth. She breathed in deeply the sweet smell of evergreen.
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