(A/N: Hello everyone! Here's the next chapter. I hope you all enjoy it. The next chapter probably won't come out for another week or so because of the craziness of the winter holidays. Please hang in there with me. Thanks for all reviews- I know some people (including me) have been having problems reviewing, and I don't know why but…whatever. Please review if you can! Thanks.

-Modesty)

ChildlikeEmpress: I thought that's what your name was from, but I wasn't sure. That's awesome. Thanks for your review!

Zeriae: Thanks for the review. I'm glad you like the story. I never was really good at spelling…lol.

Adarthang Lomedur: Yep, we should feel bad for Talso. Poor thing. Those Saxons sure are a pain! Thanks for your review.

Camlann: I'm sorry the review thing isn't working for you either. It really sux. Oh well. Lol, I kind of missed the other characters too! You'll see all the characters inter-mingle soon though, I promise… As for the character appearances, you're right. We kind of thought about it a little late. What where your ideas? I can't think of anything…Oh, a flashback would be cool. Can't wait for your next update! Lol, that rhymes…

Chapter 9: Caught

Darkness surrounded Adima as her eyes slowly opened. She looked around her. She was in the wagon- what a surprise. She could feel pain up and down her spine; she figured it was from when she had been stabbed. Her body ached, at but least she was warm under the thick blankets that were piled high on top of her.

She carefully and quietly lifted the top blanket off her, trying not to disturb her sister. She had of course noticed that overprotective Guinevere lay sleeping right beside her.

She lifted the second layer of covering off her body, and Guinevere mumbled something in her sleep. Did she say Lancelot? Adima's heart pounded. When her sister made no further signs of waking, she began to lift the third blanket from her body.

Guinevere's eyes were upon her. They opened suddenly. "Adima," she whispered.

Adima gasped quietly, lying back down. "I-I was too hot," she lied.

"Don't lie to me," Guinevere said. "You were sneaking out weren't you?"

"No."

"I'm afraid perhaps you don't recall the unfortunate incidents that followed your last act of disobedience," Guinevere smirked, but it was too dark to see.

"Guinevere," Adima pouted somewhat child-like.

"I'm glad to see you've finally woken," Guinevere stated. "But you really should go back to sleep. You need your rest," she pulled the covers back over her sister.

"Fine; sleep well Guinevere," Adima mumbled.

"And you," Guinevere said, shutting her eyes.

Minutes had passed before Adima tried her escape a second time. This time she was more careful and slow to remove the blankets. Guinevere did not move. Adima crawled on her hands and knees towards the entrance of the wagon, feeling for some shoes with her hands. She found some, and quietly slipped them on.

A cold breeze flew past her, and she shuddered in the cold. After she took her first step on the snow covered ground, she looked back at her warm blankets, lying there on the floor, useless. She thought about reaching in and grabbing one to take with her, but then the thought of Guinevere waking and stopping her made her forget about the blankets, and she turned around.

Light flecks of snow fell to her pink lips; she licked them off with a smile. As she stepped, the snow crunched beneath her feet. She immediately stopped and looked behind her to make sure her sister had not woken. She hadn't. Adima kept walking.

She walked close to the edge of the forest where a small fire had been built. Around it laid Bors and Gawain, nestled pleasantly in sleeping rolls. Tristan was no where to be seen. Beside Bors, she saw Lucan. Adima frowned. If Dag were alive, he would be sleeping with the boy. Lucan must have found comfort in Dagonet's closest friend.

She carefully turned around. She would look elsewhere for Tristan. She stepped as lightly as she could on the powdered ground, leaving deep tracks on the snowy surface for anyone to follow.

Chills ran through her as she heard more steps behind her. Adima turned around to see Lucan standing below her. "I wanted to follow you," he said. "I couldn't sleep."

"Shhh," Adima hissed. She looked around, then back at her small friend. She didn't want him with her when she spoke to Tristan, but she didn't want to dessert him now; not after all he'd been through.

"Where are you going?" he whispered.

"I'm looking for Tristan," she whispered back.

"He's out there," Lucan pointed into the woods. "He always goes into the woods." Adima followed his gaze. "He likes the quiet. But he's probably asleep."

"Tristan never sleeps. Now, do you really want to come?" she asked hoping he would decline. He nodded.

"Very well," Adima forced a small smile. "But be quiet."

As they walked through the forest, they both were silent. Adima wondered what the young lad would be thinking. She checked the ground for tracks, but if there were any, they were too difficult to make out in the darkness. She felt the ground with her fingertips for a pattern of holes, and Lucan mimicked.

She stood every once in a while, looking around to see if she could spot a small fire, or some sign that Tristan was close. They kept searching. "I feel something," Lucan said, feeling the ground.

"Tracks?" Adima asked.

"Yes," the boy confirmed. "They lead this way." Adima followed as Lucan traced the deep tracks further into the woods.

Suddenly, Adima heard footsteps. "Tristan?" she called out in a half whisper. There was silence.

Her bones froze. She gripped Lucan's shoulders and pulled him close to her. Lucan could sense something was amiss. He looked around, scared. Maybe it was a ghost.

"Drop your weapons," a cold voice answered. Adima froze for a moment, and then turned around. A shady figure stood before her.

"I have none," she said, pushing Lucan behind her. He poked his head around her waist to see what was happening.

Adima could see the figure sheathe a small dagger in her belt. "Who are you?" she asked hiding all signs of fear in her voice; though inside, she was trembling.

"You travel with the Roman," the voice replied.

"Yes."

"And why? You are a woman?"

"It is too complicated to be explained," Adima said coldly. "Are you not a woman yourself?"

Talso grimaced. "Aye," she said. "My name is Talso."

"Why should I care to learn your name?" Adima spat. "You are a scout- for the Saxons?" Though it was dark, the moon shown dimly through the trees, and Adima could tell Talso was clad in Saxon dress. "Why does a woman serve them?"

"It is too complicated to explain," Talso mimicked with a grin. "Who are you?"

"Adima," she said.

"You have not a Roman accent," Talso inquired. "Are you indeed Roman?"

"I'm Woad," Adima said proudly.

Talso's muscles relaxed a little. "You're a Woad?" she asked hopefully.

'Yes."

"As am I," she said with a bewildered smile. "I was taken, by the Saxons, in a raid of our homeland long ago."

"Saxons do not take prisoners," Adima said.

"They took me," Talso confirmed, in her native language.

Adima gasped. "You are of my kind," she said.

"You must be silent. My comrades are not far off. Are you alone?"

"She is not alone," a man's voice answered. Tristan raised his bow and arrow, aiming them at Talso.

Talso instinctively grabbed Adima by the throat, pulling her closer. She unsheathed her dagger, pressing it threateningly against Adima's throat. Adima was forced to let go of Lucan, who ran to Tristan's side. Adima choked in pain.

"Release her," Tristan warned.

"Please," Adima choked. "He is my friend. I will tell him not to harm you."

Talso thought a moment. Should she let this woman go? "Drop your bow," she finally demanded.

"Please," Adima muttered.

"Lucan," Tristan whispered. "Run back to the camp; get Arthur." Lucan took off at full speed for the camp.

"Drop your bow," Talso repeated sternly. "Or I'll kill her."

Hesitantly, Tristan lowered his bow. In an instant, an arrow sped through the hair. "Tristan!" Adima roared as the arrow landed in Tristan's chest.

Instantly, Tristan raised his bow, and shot back, killing the Saxon immediately. "Here they come!" Talso shouted, letting go of Adima who ran swiftly to Tristan.

He leaned against the trunk of a tree, feeling the blood pour from his wound. "Go back to the camp," he instructed, standing up.

As more Saxons emerged from the woods, both Tristan and Talso drew their swords. "Woad!" Talso shouted.

Adima, stunned, turned around. Talso through her a dagger. "Use this!"

As she picked up the dagger off the ground, a river of rage coursed through her. With teeth tightly clenched, she charged for the Saxons.

Adima, Tristan, and Talso all fought together. Talso instantly sliced her blade across one's chest, watching him fall to the ground, dying of blood loss. Adima threw her dagger at one man, hitting him in the neck. He shrieked in pain as blood spurted from his wound. Tristan raised his sword and fought two Saxons at once, killing them both.

Adima ran to the dying Saxon she had injured, yanking the knife out of him. She looked around for more prey to kill. Spotting another Saxon running towards her, she threw the knife, into his chest. He fell over too.

Shortly after, Arthur ran into the small clearing, sword held high. Talso breathed heavily as they approached. Gawain ran to her. "Who's this?" he asked.

"She's a Woad," Adima answered running to Tristan. All the Saxons had fallen- and so had Tristan. Gawain eyed Talso unconvincingly. She did look familiar.

Adima knelt beside Tristan, who was sitting on his knees, pulling the arrow out of his chest. "Oh no," Arthur muttered beneath his breath. "Gawain!" he called.

Adima's eyes clogged with tears. She kneeled beside Tristan. "What- what can I do?"

Her heart nearly shattered at the glare Tristan gave her. Guilt gripped her throat and she could say no more. "Are you alright," Tristan managed to ask. Adima's mouth was wide open, but she said nothing; she just shook her head. "Adima?" Tristan asked again.

She clapped her hand to her mouth in shock. Arthur helped Tristan to his feet just as Guinevere rose through the woods. Her gaze fell to Tristan, then Talso, and then her sister.

Adima's gaze met that of her sister's. What had she done?

(Isn't Lucan cute?!)