Alright….we're finally getting back to the main idea of my story…hahah, took a while. Thank you sooo much for your reviews! Seriously, I forget I even write until I click my email and boom, 8 new reviews a day, haha. Its great! Happy Valentine's day!
Chapter 12
"Arria what are you doing?" Father called, laughing as I clumsily whacked my stick against one of the many Roman statues in the garden. I turned around to face him, hugging his waist, since that was the highest point of him I could reach. He smelt of the marketplace.
"Marciana and Domitia did not want to play legionnaire with me" I stated, my lower lip pouting in frustration at my loneliness.
He scooped me up as I giggled and lifted me over on his shoulders. "Now why would a lady play legionnaire?"
"Because the stuff they play is boring!" I exclaimed truthfully, my nose wrinkling at the thought of learning one of my sister's silly dances.
He walked me along the courtyard, the center of my childhood imagination. There was a small bench by our immensely decorated ivory well, in which he plopped me down.
A servant rushed forth to him, and declared the approach of a visitor. Visitors were frequent at our palace, but nevertheless exciting to see. At many times simple peasants visited our household, begging father to represent their various plights in the Senate. This was not such a visit.
Father took my hand and led me into our main parlor, where a smiling middle aged man waited. Upon seeing the warm and friendly face, Nicoteles let go my hand and embraced his friend. I looked at the two, figuring out they were old friends. I had never seen this man before, but then again, I was only nine.
I approached the man with caution, curiosity getting the better of me. The stranger noticed me and broadened his smile, his eyes set upon my father.
"This cannot be your youngest…Arria?" he asked. Father glowed at hearing my name.
"Tis the very same."
He eyed me intriguingly, and I did the same. "My my. Last time I saw you, you were but a babe wrapped in cloth. Now look at what a lovely lady your becoming."
To a nine year old, being called this was especially exciting. I straightened my back in importance, immediately taking a liking to him.
"Arria, this is my good friend Pelagius. He just returned from…well…from the end of the world."
Pelagius turned back to my father, raising his eyebrows. "That I did. As far west as is known. Apparently Rome needs the isle of Britain to boast of its large expansion."
"And, pray tell, what is it like?" They seemed to forget I was even there, and so, being the curious cat I was, I stayed, taking in every word.
Pelagius looked distant in the next few moments, thinking of the best way to describe his experience. "There is something special there, Nicoteles. Some secret I have yet to unlock. Its forever mists cloud a deep mystery, one in which God will reveal in His time. I would not be surprised if such an uncivilized land brings forth great things."
Father looked both thoughtful and confused, willing for his friend to explain more. But instead, he asked more questions, ones I had little interest in.
"You were staying with the Castus family I believe?"
"Yes. Lucius' wife died while I was there, a most tragic affair involving northern Woads. Their son, Artorius…extraordinary boy…I brought him here to Rome with me until we return in few year's time."
"Return? You mean to go back?"
"Indeed. It is a land in which you cannot stay away, Nicoteles. If you ever visit me there, you will see its affect on your soul." My father, not knowing what it was like, simply shrugged his shoulders and invited Pelagius for dinner.
It was midday when I stopped to let the horses slurp some water from a nearby creak. I myself splashed water on my face, noticing that this was an unusually hot day for such a misty world. The cool drops soaked into my hair, occasionally sprinkling down my cheek in comfort as I chomped on an apple.
My wound was hurting again. I unhooked the bandage on my side, noticing that even though I had cleaned the wound, it was still bright red and some spots purple, and in the corner a few drops of blood escaped. Apparently I needed work on my cleansing skills.
Though my body loudly protested, I urged myself forward, wanting to make it to Fort Camelodunum at Hadrian's Wall…home. Instantly my mind went back years ago, to when Pelagius boasted of this island. I guess it does have an affect on you.
As the sun closed its eye into the mountains of the west, I found my own eyes drooping with shear exhaustion. I was sweating profusely from my forehead, though it was, I thought, a rather breezy evening. Swaggering left and right as the horses neighed their confusion at me, finally I saw the beloved Wall in front of me. Instantly I wanted to kiss the dirt beneath me with triumph, though I suppose that would be a silly idea.
Without another thought, I began rummaging through Titus and Irina's bags, hoping one of them had my things. I pulled out Dagonet's dagger, to which I sighed and kissed it, and my officer emblem that Arthur had made for me.
A few moments later, I was at the wall, where a guard proceeded to, rather obnoxiously, state my business at the fort. Upon seeing my insignia, therefore taking note of my superiority, he clumsily apologized and had the gate open. I staggered in, the guard giving me a perplexed stare. Was he new? I couldn't tell.
"Do you need an escort?" he stated, looking sheepish at his former mistake. I shook my head, and mounted Irina's mare. The fort was a half mile north of the wall, and there was no way I was walking it. By now all strength left me, and I kicked the horse forward, my left hand squeezing the rope that held the other mares. The constant up and down rhythm on the horse's back made my head bow down, and the creature slowed to a walk. Finally, I made it to the fort.
Upon seeing me, a guard cried for the gate to be opened…I believe his name was Nathan. I strode in, barely awake, aching for a bath and my beloved silk covers to climb into, with big strong arms wrapping themselves around me.The guard had a soldier summon Arthur as I was led inside, passing the village and courtyard.
The stable boy Erol took the horses from me, and I nodded my thanks, knowing they will be well taken care of.
A few minutes went by, and I fought to stand still, my body burning inside. Finally, emerging from the door came my king, my queen, Lancelot, and Gawain. Both an immense sense of joy and sadness overtook me, realizing that it was true what Titus said. Galahad was dead. Lancelot was alive, and for that my heart thumped twice as loud. I took notice of his arm in a sling, no doubt one of the wounds from Titus.
"By God" I heard my king say. Upon seeing me, Arthur rushed up to embrace me, something he's never done. I did not quite know how to react. Doing what came naturally, I hugged him back. When he released me, he looked at with proud eyes, as if I was some lost treasure found once more.
As Arthur stepped back, smiling, Guinevere exclaimed "Arria! Your home!" and wrapped her arms on me like a sister. A winced as she touched my wound, and she took notice. As she hugged me, I stole a glance at Lancelot, whose face was set in stone, as if he did not want me to see his reaction.
"Your hurt, aren't you?" she asked, taking a step back. I simply smiled.
"Let's go inside and I'll explain everything" I stated, wishing I didn't have to. She nodded and put one hand on my back in friendship.
Gawain smiled at me, though his stare seemed distant. "It's good to see you, love." I couldn't imagine what he was going through, and I put a hand on his shoulder, giving him a nod of encouragement.
Once more I was taken into our Room of the Round, my feet guiding me. I let my eyes blink a few times, but shook myself awake. We begged us to sit.
"Do not worry Arria. This will not take long. I daresay you deserve a long rest and a look at your wound" Arthur explained with an air of authority. I forgot how booming his voice sounded. I looked down to see that my wound had opened again, and my cloth was stained with blood.
I looked at Lancelot, who still held the same odd expression. Arthur spoke once more. "Where are the assassins?"
I looked down at the table as Jols brought me a cup of water. Sipping it softly, I closed my eyes. "Dead. Killed by raiders." There was no need to go into Titus' suicide.
Arthur gulped. "I see. And that foul vermon of a man...the Archbishop?"
"Dead." I looked toward Lancelot. "I killed him." I saw Arthur glance at his beloved, as I fought with all my energy to stay awake.
"Titus talked of your kidnapping to a Senator…who was this man?" I did not answer at first, my mind roaming. "Arria? Arria?"
Shaking myself awake, I sipped some more water, my forehead on fire. "That would be Senator Gallus. I'm sure you've had the delight pleasure in meeting him before." Upon hearing his name Arthur froze in a look of murderous rage. I coughed a few times and blinked.
Guinevere turned to her husband. "Please Arthur, she can say no more tonight. Let us discuss more when she is well rested." Hearing her soft plea made Arthur relax, and he nodded.
"Of course. Jols, fetch the healer."
"Really, your Highness, there's no need-" I slurred, beginning to stand. I walked a few paces before the brutal weariness set in, my legs giving way from under me. My head burned, my wound once more piercing me. I think I began to fall, but I'm not quite sure. All of a sudden two arms held my body as my eyes rolled into the back of my head. A hand was put to my forehead.
"For the love of God she's burning up!" Lancelot yelled, and it was then that I realized he was the one who had caught me. He scooped me up, lifting my entire body off the ground, and turned to Arthur. "You should have sent her straight to the infirmary." I saw Arthur nod as a few minutes later I was put down on a soft bed, still awake.
I tried to speak, asking just to go to my room. Lancelot shook his head in protest, though that same stupid expression was still on his face. I didn't like not knowing what was on his mind.
My tunic was cut open as my wound was inspected. "Arria, you should have told us it was this bad!" Guinevere scolded. I groaned my opinion, and let my eyes close.
"I'm fine" I said, yawning loudly. I felt a cool cloth on my forehead, and soon blissful sleep enwrapped its wings around me.
I awoke a few days later, my wound skillfully stitched and my fever diminishing. After a servant let everyone know I was awake, Arthur was the first to visit. He sat on the edge of my bed as I sat up against the board, my pillow keeping my back comfortable.
"I'm sorry about the other day.." he began, looking ashamed.
It was strange hearing an apology from your king. "Your highness, please do not apologize. It is most uncomfortable. It was my duty to tell you everything." Before he could protest my statement, I continued. "Titus told me what happened to Galahad."
Arthur stiffened, and I could tell his heart was still weary of this. "You may go pay your respects as soon as you are fully rested." That was all he was going to say on the matter.
"I suppose Bors is in Archenridge?"
He nodded, scratching his neck. "Yes. About two weeks ago he took Vanora and the children to settle in. He's due back at the Wall in a few days. I sent word of your return. Arria, do you know why you were taken?"
I smirked, knowing the answer. Shaking my head in disdain, I answered his question with repulse. "Apparently Gallus thought I knew the whereabouts of our friend Caelestius." I noticed Arthur slightly raise his eyebrow. "He also wanted something called the "Contra traducem peccati". I guess it was important enough to steal a girl across the entire empire."
"Indeed" he stated, thinking. "I knew Caelestius well. Rome once respected him as a man of principle." He shook his head in indignation. "It seems Rome would do almost anything to squash even a hint of revolution."
"They saw you as a huge threat, Arthur. That is why they sent assassins. Luckily you did not fall for their drugging tricks."
"I am sure we have not seen the last of Rome's assassins either. Men are always looking to fight, Arria. Saving this land will be quite a difficult task."
"I'm just thankful I'm back to help, assuming I still have my post?" I asked, the slightest hint of a smile escaping my lips.
"Well, I suppose a girl who defeated a powerful political figure and escaped the largest empire in the nation might deserve the position." Feeling bold, I once more embraced my king. "It is good to have you back, Arria", he whispered, meaning every word. I received many visitors when I wasn't sleeping over the next two days. Guinevere confined me to my bed, her horrifying eyes widening every time I protested. She could be quite the scary commanding queen when she wanted to be, I decided. What made me unhappy was that Lancelot did not choose to see me. After a long conversation with Gawain, I asked what Lancelot was doing. He shifted his gaze and mumbled something about patrol duty.
On my third day of recuperation I got a rather boisterous visit from Bors, who squeezed me tight and made my ribs crack with laughter.
"It hasn't been the same without your spirit, girl" he stated, looking like a proud comrade. I blushed and nodded, wishing these past few weeks had been but a nasty nightmare. "Well, I'm off to take a piss. But I do wish you'd come stay at Archenridge for a bit. Vanora would be thrilled."
"Oh come off It Bors! You just want me to baby sit all eleven of your kids while you and Vanora rump off to make more babies!"
He pretended to look shocked. "I'm hurt, Arria, I really am. Although it would be nice to have some alone time with my wife…"
"Give them names and then we'll talk…"
"Honestly, why do you insist on naming everything that moves?"
I cast him a sly gaze. "Your one to talk. I've seen you sneak away with Vanora at the pub, telling her 'Papa Bors has come out to play'!" At this he blushed and ended the subject. As he opened the door to leave, I stopped him.
"Bors…have you seen Lancelot recently?" I asked timidly, unsure of how that sounded. It disturbed me the way he shifted his gaze in the same manner as Gawain and stated he was probably off doing something for Arthur.
It vexed me to no end that he had not even bothered to see how I was doing. Could he possibly still be mad over our stupid little scoff the night of the assassination? Unlikely. What was he afraid of? Perhaps he did not have the balls to apologize?
I longed to have him by my side, caressing me in the way he did so well. I had basically only made it halfway across the world because he was in my thoughts. Hell, if he were to walk through that door at this very moment, I would have forgotten my promise of virginity and would have had my way with him, exploring every corner of his beautiful body.
After a while though, these thoughts diminished and I began to realize how silly and desperate I sounded. Of course he had important things to do. And this was Lancelot…the breaker of hearts, the shameful but irresistible charmer. I began to understand why the village girls hated him after he had them in his bed.
But I thought I was different…at least….Galahad used to tell me he's never seen Lancelot act so strange around a girl like when he was with me. I ignored the side of me that said wait for him to come to you. To hell with that. I was bored, I was lonely, and I deserved to know how he was.
Against Guinevere's judgment, I hopped off my bed, and changed into one of my finer silk robes. Applying a bit of lip rouge and rubbing a few oil scents unto my arms, I opened the door cautiously, hoping Guinevere wasn't around to scold and throttle me.
The most obvious place to look for him without getting caught was his chamber, though I highly doubted he'd be there this late in the morning.
When no one answered the knock on the door, I turned to leave, but then heard a light snore from within. Good, I thought. This way I'll surprise him. I creaked open the door ( to which I noticed he hadn't bothered to lock) and snuck a peek inside.
My smile quickly evaporated as I saw Lancelot switch positions, placing his left hand on a rather beautiful but naked girl's stomach, his eyes closed peacefully in bliss. I clenched my teeth together to keep my mouth from dropping open unto the floor, my nails digging into the door. I didn't know quite how to react. Do I scream and shout and thrust my dagger into his heart, or should I simply shut the door, and never open it again?
Instead, I only stared, my mind assured that my eyes were playing tricks. This could not be true- I had spent many restless nights crying, unsure if he was dead or alive. I had dreamt of his sweet lips on mine, I had worried myself sick over whether I would ever see his devilish grin again. And obviously he did not return my silly fantasies. Arria, you are a fool to let your guard down.
I was about to close the door, and clear my head when the girl beside him stirred, immediately noticing my presence. "Out, you filthy eavesdropping wench! I'll report you to the head servant!" she screamed, waking up an alarmed Lancelot. He sniffed through his nose, his eyes blinking to try and wake up. He looked left and right, and then his eyes fell on me. I kept my face smooth, unemotional, just as he had been doing to me.
He stared back, and his expression bore no surprise in the least. It was like looking into a mirror. The obnoxious girl, whom I immediately recognized as the blacksmith's daughter, narrowed her eyes in superiority at me. Lancelot pressed his hand to her chest, willing her to lay back down.
"If she wants to watch, let her watch, dove." he whispered just loud enough for me to hear. The girl smirked and kissed him full on the lips fiercely, her eyes still mockingly looking my way. I shut the door slowly, taking in his cold hearted words.
I could not cry. I had run out of tears on my journey home. I could only stare forward, and somehow my legs took me back to my quarters. I nestled myself under the silk sheets, violently wiping away the red rouge from my lips. I realized then that he had been toying with me this entire time. I was just another wench, one to throw away at will. I will never be so gullible again.