Authors notes: A great big thanks to all my lovely reviewers!

OO

Arthur barely slept; his dreams were flooded with images of blood, screams and death. He had watched as Lancelot was killed many times, each more violent than the one before. Finally after he had seen Lancelot burned alive his body woke him. Arthur felt just as exhausted as he had been when he went to sleep.

With a deep sigh he stretched and rose to his feet. He caught Tristan's eye and the scout moved around the sleeping knights and Romans rousing them. By the time everyone was conscious Arthur had mounted and was ready to leave. The silent order for haste was met with a quick response and within minutes everyone was ready to go.

Without saying a word Tristan disappeared forward of the party. An unspoken quiet had descended upon the group as the tension increased. They all knew they were heading for a confrontation that would probably result in most, if not all, of their deaths. In addition the knights' attention was focused on the fate of their fellow knight, Lancelot. All of them knew that Tristan had not told the whole truth of the knight's condition and the almost haunted look in his eyes made them very afraid.

Arthur was a man possessed. He felt anger and instead of trying to suppress it he allowed it to encompass his whole being. He was beyond furious at both himself, the Romans, the world even at this moment with his god. This whole situation had been a series of mistakes and disasters and they had been so easily led. The woads must be laughing at them. If he was in their position he would probably be mocking them.

"So what's the plan?" Bors asked Arthur, moving so he was riding next to their leader. The question came as a surprise to the Roman who hadn't considered it. He pulled his horse to a halt and Gawain let out a stream of curses as his horse ran into the back of Arthur's.

"Pontius and Licinius." He called and the two centurions made their way forward.

"Does everyone at Baden Hill have such a blatant disregard for ranks and common courtesy?" Licinius snarled. He was pissed. This whole operation was amateurish to say the least! If these were the famed Sarmatian knights the stories had been greatly embellished.

"Now is not the time." Pontius responded with a scowl.

"We need a distraction." Arthur stated. "Or we will be slaughtered as soon as we set foot outside the forest."

"True." Pontius uttered. "What is your plan?"

"Myself and my knights will head to the fort. Tristan will brief you on the woads positioning and I want you to bring your forces around their rear and flanks…"

"And what do you hope to achieve by that other than offering the woads ourselves on a platter." Licinius interrupted.

"Your death hopefully." Bors muttered. Arthur shot him a look that said 'shut up'.

"So far I am less than impressed with the knights I see under you command Castus but whatever my feelings are I do not want the results of this mission to be a massacre. I hope your plan is more extensive than that."

"Unfortunately it isn't but then again if you have a better plan I am willing to hear it."

"Night." The Roman centurion said. "This so called plan will be more effective at night. Maximum disruption and confusion is achieved in darkness. I also suggest that you are not the bait. They have archers and will be able to pick you off easily without putting themselves in positions of danger. Dress my soldiers up as yourselves."

"No." Arthur responded and the expression of frustration reappeared on Licinius face.

"I will not sacrifice your soldiers. The rest of your plan makes sense." Arthur sighed heavily.

"I am sorry that this has turned into an unorganised mess, I have allowed by anger at being fooled to overcome my senses."

Licinius allowed his anger to dissipate. He was not a horrible man, he just liked organisation and not to be commanded to do things with no thought to him and his soldiers. He had to admit if he was in Arthur's situation he would have probably gotten them killed by now.

"There is no need to apologise I haven't exactly been on my best behaviour."

The two men nodded at the apologies. Pontius grinned.

"Well now that has been sorted out can we get back to the matter at hand." He said pointedly.

"Right so we attack at night. We need to get in among them and cause confusion. Then we need to separate them into groups. We have to avoid a pitched battle where we will surely lose."

"Agreed." Pontius stated and Licinius nodded in assent.

"Tristan take the best scouts we have and I want a secure positioning of all the woads so we can deploy our forces."

The centurions agreed and quickly sent orders back to their collective men.

"Our main priority is to avoid the woads attacking the fort again and discovering the people hidden in the cellars."

Arthur surveyed the group who still looked tired. "I want you to arrange the groups and with the return of the scouts, the positioning of them. As soon as everyone is able I want us to reconvene and we will discuss signals and tactics."

"Fine"

"Right"

The two centurions returned to their soldiers and Arthur turned to face his knights.

"I don't want any heroics." He said. "I know that people we care about are in there but for this we need our heads clear."

The knights nodded.

"I hope you have included yourself in that Arthur." Dagonet said as he drew alongside Arthur, keeping his voice low to avoid the others overhearing.

"I do."

"Good and I won't hesitate to inform you of that."

Arthur smiled.

O

Lancelot was considering suicide. At the moment it seemed fairly easy to accomplish considering their predicament. He could just walk out of the gates and bam that would be it. Unfortunately Jols on a misguided logic would try to stop him.

With a sigh he lifted up his right arm and rubbed his eyes. He was so tired and as he lowered his arm he suddenly saw a mark on his wrist. Peering more closely at it he realised that someone had carved a symbol into his skin.

"Jols?" he shouted and winced as his head pounded. The squire quickly appeared.

"What? Do you feel worse?"

"What is that?" he demanded. His stomach sank as he saw the squire look away guiltily.

"Jols don't make me get up!" Lancelot snapped the pain making his short temper even more so.

"It is a woad mark."

Lancelot rolled his eyes. "Well I assumed that one of you hadn't gotten bored and used me as a book. What does it mean?"

Jols paused and then at Lancelot's look told him.

"Slave."

A mixture of anger, humiliation and shame filled the knight's eyes. Jols opened his mouth to try and offer some comfort but Lancelot halted him before he began.

"Go away."

"Lancelot…"

"GO AWAY."

The squire could do nothing but obey.

OO