Awww, glad you guys liked the last chapter. I'd like to take this opportunity to explain that it may seem like I'm going a bit fast, but in reality this story is more of a saga or series rather than a simple novel, with many villains and characters and time frames. So please, view this more as a tv series because I have too many plots and directions to eliminate them all!

Chapter 11

The next few hours were a blur, as we stole three horses from the stables and headed west along the Tiber River, all the way to the coast. The journey took a full night and day's ride, with no break in between. Finally, when we arrived at seaport, Titus demanded me to dismount as he went inside the harbor man's store. Irina kept her eyes fixed on me with not an ounce of friendliness on her face.

She kept her hand close to her belt where her dagger protruded. "Do not think us friends, Arria. We are simply collecting what is due from your king."

I stared hard back at her, expressionless. "I doubt you've ever had a friend in your life, Irina." To this she smirked and dismounted her horse, tying it up to the pole beside her. I did likewise, patting the mare on her sweaty neck.

Titus returned, carrying three parchments. "These passage papers did not come cheap. Your king better pay well for them."

"I'm sure your compensation will make you quite wealthy, Titus Sidonius." As he handed me my boarding pass, I asked, "Please. Tell me what happened in Britain."

He did not look me in the eyes, only turned to glance at Irina. She narrowed her gaze, her eyebrows furrowing. Finally he spoke. "The ship leaves at dawn. The harbormaster promised our safety if we spent the night in the barnyard nearby. After we have rested and are well nourished, perhaps I will tell you."

"That is not good enough!" I shouted, my temper rising.

Irina thrust forth her dagger by my neck. "You do as we say, girl", she commented, her nostrils flaring in contempt. Titus sighed heavily and started walking over to the stable atop the hill.

After we were given blankets and fruit from the stable boy, I lay atop the hay, glancing at Titus. Irina turned over unto her side, and instantly fell asleep, but not before giving me one last look of scorn.

He lay flat on his back, his arms securely placed above his head in comfortable fashion.

"Please, Titus" I whispered. He glanced over at his sister, who did not turn to shush us. He heaved a small sigh.

"Irina told me not to tell you too much."

I sneered. "And does your sister own you?"

"Irina is elder and has always cared for me. Even if she does hate all the world. We were trained assassins from birth, our father the King of Thieves. It is all I know."

I lifted one eyebrow. "So she is the director of your hired kills. And you obey her."

He gruffed and rolled his eyes. "Do not mock me, milady." He sat silent for a moment, then he whispered, "Back at the armory, you stated that Rome was more so whatever you grasped in your heart, not just a name of power. I respected what you said."

I said nothing, willing him to answer my question. I heard him gulp. "The Archbishop killed the one you call Galahad."

I bit my lower lip, my mouth trembling. I put my hand to my mouth, my head suddenly warm. He looked up now at the barn ceiling. I wasn't so sure he was even speaking to me anymore. "After I released Ferdinand, I headed immediately to your king's quarters. He was sound asleep, with Guinevere beside him. I raised my sword, but his bodyguard, Lancelot, emerged from the shadows and pressed his blade to mine." My heart leaped at hearing his name. But…wouldn't the drug had taken affect already. My mind replayed that night's events. My brain hurt with my own stupidity. Of course! Both Lancelot and the king were too stressed. They did not touch food or drink that night.

He went on. "The king was aroused as I fought off your knight, and he was busy trying to wake up the Lady Guinevere, who was under the drug's influence. Lancelot and I fought hard. I wounded him before Arthur knocked my sword to the ground.

"Is he alright?" I asked, sitting up. I looked over at Irina, who was now snoring rather loudly.

He did not look at me. "I do not know. Arthur sent me as soon as I explained everything to him." He glanced back at me. "Irina did not want me to tell you this for fear you would try to kill us."

"What makes you think I wouldn't have even if I did not know what you just told me?"

He stared me over, his face unreadable and almost vacant. "For some reason I trust you, Arria Gaius. You are honorable." He realized his statement and gruffed again. "Go to sleep, girl. Try anything and I will harm you. And keep your mouth shut tomorrow."

I turned on my side away from his gaze. "Lancelot told me not to believe you. I told him I trusted you, Titus." With that, I said a silent prayer for Galahad, and attempted to try and get a peaceful rest. I soon found that this was an impossible endeavor. Once I gave up trying though, my eyes felt heavy, and apparently for what seemed like five minutes later, it was dawn.

Titus and Irina left me alone in my cabin aboard the ship as we crossed the Mediterranean Sea. It seemed my stomach was not in agreement with the long voyage to Gaul. I considered the option of running away and going by land back to Britain, but it was foolish. The journey would take weeks longer, plus the fact that I'd have to get past Roman, Hun, and Celts along the way. The sea was the quicker answer to avoid trouble, but my stomach voiced its own opinion about that as I leaned over the side of the boat, mildly gazing at the dark water below. My hazy reflection stared back, my hair unkempt, my face impassive.

I came to an odd conclusion that I had knowingly murdered two supposed men of God. My rage had ceased the moment I struck Ferdinand's neck. I thought back to my conversation with Arthur so long ago, as he graciously explained the concept of letting go and moving on. I had my vengeance. Twice in fact, one for my family and one for myself. The honor of my family remains. Hmm, perhaps I am more Roman than I thought.

Finally, after almost two weeks of monotonous lonely sea fare, we arrived in a southern port of Gaul. My queasiness softly went away as my legs once again felt the wonderful sensation of land. Irina kept a close eye on me, expecting me to bolt at any moment in time. From there we were to take a carriage to a northwestern port, about a two day caravan journey. I watched as Irina paid the owner three times as much as the carriage and horses were worth. I did not think it odd, for now word will reach the entire Roman Empire that three fugitives from the law killed an Archbishop and Senator. Our journey had to be cleverly inconspicuous to avoid our heads from being chopped off by the axe of the Emperor.

As Irina went into the market to buy a few goods, Titus kept watch over me by the docks. I paced about nervously, hoping the rest of our journey would be peaceful. Titus sat down on a log and began peeling an apple with his knife, biting into the juicy pieces on the tip of his blade.

"Why is she like that?" I asked, taking a chance. He begrudgingly finished the bite he was enjoying and gulped it down, wiping his face.

"Not that its any of your business…" he began, then glanced at me. He cleared his throat. "I suppose she's bitter and domineering due to father. He was well respected in the thieving community, and one night after he had his way with her she took his own sword and splattered his flesh all over her bed. I couldn't betray my own sister, so off we went." He straightened his back, cracking it loudly. His eyes wreaked of shame and anger. "So you see, Lady Arria, even evil Roman assassins have haunting, pitiful pasts. Are you satisfied with that?" he exclaimed, his true voice rising.

I said nothing, unexpectedly surprised by his truthful answer. But what was even more surprising was my own words that came next. "No, actually. That doesn't excuse contracted kills on innocent people."

He sneered at me, shaking his head. "You will come to know someday that no one is innocent-no one. And since when did you have the right to lecture me?"

That struck a nerve, but I kept my voice level. "You have hurt the ones I care for, and because of you, your sister and that beast of an Archbishop, a comrade is dead. I have much to lecture on. You are lucky I am not a raging lunatic right now, as if any of my friends were in my position, you and your sister would be dragged off the face of this earth with only the fleas to mourn your corpses." I had overstepped my boundaries, and once more he held his knife to my throat.

"You are alive because of my grace right now, girl. Do not push me." He withdrew his blade and sat back down. "No one is innocent, Captain. All of your comrades have killed sons and fathers and brothers, just as you and I have." I picked up a rock and threw it viciously into the water, its force causing a few droplets to splash out by my feet. A few moments later Irina arrived, immediately noticing the tension. However, after slightly glancing my way, she whispered something to Titus.

The caravan journey, in essence, actually took three days to reach the northern port of Jesot, because of a rather obnoxious and icy downpour. No words were spoken. On the third day, perhaps mid afternoon, we reached the hill in which overlooked the Jesot port, and the channel to Britain. Seagulls hovered over our heads, racing each other to the water crying out their hungry calls.

Fate has a funny way of pulling the carpet out right from under your feet just when you learn to walk again. I tried to forget killing the Archbishop. I tried to not dwell on the idea that one of my closest friends was dead, and I most assuredly tried to get Lancelot's devilish grin out of my mind. I just wanted to go home and start anew.

We made it to Rookwood, a southern province of Britain, a few days later. The boatride across the channel had given us very little problems, and it seemed Rome would not send legions after us. This was far more south than I had ever been in Britain, but for the few moments we stayed in one of the villages I attempted to gain as much information I could about the conditions. Perhaps, once my training was fulfilled, Arthur would assign me to make some inquiries near here. The thought of continuing my post cheered me up for the moment, as I looked on to my kidnappers with dismay.

It never occurred to me that my newly acquired skills would be tested once more so soon. In Rookwood we bought three horses (all of which Titus exclaimed Arthur better reimburse him for), and headed down a path toward Archenridge, the province in which Arthur had given Bors authority over, just east to our fort at Hadrian's Wall.

Along the dirt path we came into a small woodland, the path veering to the left. It was midday, and the forest was deathly quiet and peaceful. We were trotting along downhill, with gigantic rocks on either side of us. Not one single bird chirped, and as I glanced down along the path I saw a broken branch laying on the ground. I narrowed my eyes, my mind telling me to be weary. Gawain had explained to me the difference between quiet and too quiet, and this was not a good sign. I halted my horse, turning my head. Titus was behind me, and pulled his horse next to mine.

"Wutsa matter with you, aye?" he gruffed, annoyed by my nervousness. A soft owl hooting sound followed in the distance, and my horse reared his head slightly.

"Titus, we must get out of here! I fear we are being tracked by raiders."

He guffawed in exasperation. "And I suppose you're an expert on the subject, are you?"

Just then an arrow whizzed past his ear, hitting the tree beside him. His mare neighed her fear, as five raiders emerged from the rocks above, holding their blunt swords high as they screamed their attack. Irina kept calm and led our horses out of the path and down the hill as our attackers pursued. Another arrow struck the ground to my left and I urged my horse forward, though the terrain was getting steeper to canter down. I looked back to see Titus, dismounting his horse and holding out his sword for combat. Irina also saw this and kicked her horse back, to help her brother.

I hesitated for a moment. This was my chance. I could escape and never look back, and let the raiders deal with them. Though my heart objected, my mind observed the idea that I too, should go back and rid the world of the raiders before the next unsuspecting riders came along.

I groaned this annoyance and dismounted as well, running upward towards the fight as Irina clashed her sword against one of the raiders, a scruffy giant wearing nothing but rags. Arthur explained that raiders only lived the way they did because of poverty and bad landlords. But once they turned into ruthless murders instead of robbers, your heart should find that it is okay to kill them for their crimes. Titus was battling two males at once, while another two loaded the few arrows they had, unsure of where to aim. I flew myself into the fray, knocking one of the archers to the ground. The other abandoned his bow and rushed towards me, dagger drawn. I swung low with my sword, cutting his legs as he doubled over in shear agony. The other, having regained himself, unclenched his axe from its belt and circled me, smirking in delight, his dark eyes showing no mercy. I heard a scream from behind, but paid no attention to it. He attacked, trying to cut me like a butcher. I jumped and rolled out of the way, somersaulting unto my feet and lashing out with my sword. It clashed against his axe, and he used his force to drive me back, my left foot tripping on a rock in the process.

As my back hit the ground, he cut down, and I had to quickly roll out of the way. His axe hit the dirt, and I used that precious second to kick him with the heel of my boot, forcing him to recede. I got up and blocked his next blow, though he surprised me by bringing out a knife in his left hand, and he sneakily sliced my side as our axe and sword clashed.

I cried out in pain, but tried to ignore it as he used this opportunity to rush at me. This time I ducked out of horizontal swing, which meant to decapitate me, and I shoved my sword into his stomach as he fell. Irina was still battling the giant raider, though blood dripped from her shoulder. Titus has killed one of them, but was getting beaten by the second. As the raider butted Titus against the head, sending him to the ground in shock, I came from behind, unknowingly, and punctured his spine, the sword coming out all the way into the front. I kicked him down and released my sword. Titus looked up at me in shear surprise, his mouth open with bewilderment.

Against my own understanding, I reached out my hand and helped pull him to his feet. But from behind came a terrible shriek, and as I turned, I heard Titus himself shout out in rage. Irina fell to the ground, the raider's sword protruding from her chest. Titus lunged at him, and the raider, his weapon still in his victim, stood helplessly as Titus massacred him, swinging his sword relentlessly on him, blood splattering everywhere. I stood where I was, Irina lying on the ground, surely already dead from the blow. Titus continued to rage on, gutting the raider, slicing his head off, cutting him up limb by limb as tears slid from his eyes. I did not know how react, for to me, the woman was criminal, yet still I felt she had some type of love, at least for her brother, flowing through her veins.

So instead of reacting, I stood there, as Titus sat while took her up in his arms, his face red and sweaty. He hugged her lifeless body, and I could not for the life of me see how two cold blooded murders could care so much for one another.

I retrieved the horses as he sat, and I proceeded to build a fire, dumping the rotting bodies into it except for her. Finally Titus snapped out of enough to take his blanket and wrap her pale corpse in it, kissing the top of her forehead with brotherly affection. He tied ropes around the blanket and put her on top of the spare horse. As night fell, we walked away in silence.

The wound to my left side was still slightly bleeding, but I did not think to stop and tend to it. I wanted home. We walked all night, and finally we made it to a clearing. In fact, I recognized it right away. We were at Harrow's Field, the same field Gawain and Lancelot had taken me. It now made no sense to go to Archenridge, we had lost our way along the forest path and too close to Hadrian's Wall now. Titus stopped ahead of me, dismounting onto the field of wheat, running his fingers through the furry tops of the weeds. It was breezy but not frigid that night. The sky was open to the stars of the universe.It was here that we camped, silently, and as I tended to my throbbing wound with bare elements to clean it, Titus started digging, and did not stop for an hour. I tried to get a few hours sleep, but every now and then I would glance over and see him burying her beneath the earth, taking off one of her rings and holding it tight as he said a silent prayer.

I was astounded when he, still looking at her gravesite, spoke to me. "You saved my life today, Arria."

I didn't think he would ever talk again. I did not know how to respond, so I didn't. He went on, still looking at the ground beneath him. "Irina told me there was nothing good in this world, and that is why I started killing for money. You showed me that she was wrong. I was wrong. Thank you for helping me realize this." A tear slid down his cheek, and I gulped, unsure of how to take this. "Please forgive me for all I have wronged you, and your knights."

Forgiveness? It seemed to me a foreign word I had forgotten recently. Father had always taught me that forgiveness was the only answer, because it was what our Lord and Savior did to save all mankind. But could I forgive a monster of society who has harmed so many?

Before I could think of an answer, I watched with great horror as Titus Sidonius, without another word, thrust his dagger into his stomach, blood immediately escaping his mouth. His eyes widened as he desperately fought to breath, but I swear I saw the trace of a smile seep his lips as he fell to his side, his eyes still open in great thought as his heart stopped beating.

Yes, I could forgive. For even in murderers hides the emotion of love that chooses not to come forth until the time is right. I placed my fingers over his eyes and closed them. He was a confused being that did horrendous deeds, but in the end realized his mistakes.

The sun began to make its way up in the sky as I burned his body, placing the ashes upon his sister's grave. I looked northeast, where Hadrian's Wall was but a day's walk. I sighed and took hold of all three horses' ropes, guiding them home.