Sorry it took so long to update, school's been hard. Wow, Im supposed to be studying for a final exam thats gonna commence in...oh, about 8 hrs...but noooo, I'm updating because I put fanfiction first in my list of priorities. You better read this.

Chapter 17

"Ahem…" a voice cracked, disturbing my peaceful position on Aedan's chest. I uncomfortably looked up to see Jols, his arms folded and eyebrows raised in question. Aedan was the first to get up, his cheeks as red as a rose, and his look one of sheer horror.

"Jols! This…this isn't…I mean…" he stuttered, unsure of what words would get us out of the situation.

"Best time for you two to get some sleep" was all he said, and left.

Aedan took my hand and pulled me up. "Arria…Captain…umm…" he innocently stuttered once more. For some reason I was strangely calm, as if it didn't matter who saw us. I placed my index finger to his sweet lips.

"Shhh…come. Time for sleep. Tomorrow we will contemplate our actions." Could these wise, calm words be escaping from my mouth? The same girl that used to freak out over everything? Perhaps I was growing up after all. Aedan nodded his head violently, his blonde curls bouncing.

Over the next few days, Aedan and I did not speak of our night in the armory, mainly due to the number of meetings Arthur had to occupy our time. In fact, weeks went by without a word, save the tasks at hand concerning western affairs. We had messengers send us word from several villages and provinces, detailing constant raids. I devoted my time entirely to my post, observing with great confusion the sudden wave of attacks happening so close to each other. One southern province claimed to have seen Saxon ships circling the ports. To this Arthur gazed over at Guinevere, his look one of concern.

During our long meetings, I sat beside Aedan and Gawain. Sometimes I would look over and see Conall and Avery play some type of game with their hands under the table when they thought no one was looking. They had no idea how to act seriously, and I found myself acting like the scolding mother afterwards on such weary nights, with veins ready to pop from my forehead at their embarrassing charades.

Gafran was being especially difficult. When he sparred with Gawain, the rule is if you accidently draw blood from another, the sparring is over. But Gafran didn't stop. After grazing his superior in the shoulder, Gawain let his guard down for a moment, intending on cleaning the wound right away. B ut Gafran swung again, this time low, and Gawain only moved out of the way by inches."Gafran! Stop!" I shouted as he continued on, blazing his sword with fury at Gawain, the glint in his eye one of scorn.

Aedan cut in, clashing his sword against his friend's, his look one of commanding seriousness. "That's enough, friend. You've proven you're the best." Gafran was sweating profusely, and looked up at the taller Rider, his face changing from anger to sorrow.

"Sorry. Got a lil carried away there…" Was all he said, and he was looking at Aedan, not me. I gulped in my fears as Gawain glanced my way.

"Do we have to go back to wooden swords?" I questioned dryly.

Gafran finally looked my way, trying to appear apologetic. Maybe it was just the sun glaring in my face, but I thought for a second he smirked with authority over me. "No, Captain. I'll be more careful."

Gawain recognized the awkwardness kicking in. "Alright. Gafran, go spar with Aedan. I'll be back in a little while." It was common for us to bruise and bleed while training. Nothing was ever severe. Everyone continued on with their training, and I took up my bow and shot at a few targets, though my head kept glancing back to Gafran. He certainly didn't respect me…nor Gawain. Perhaps Aedan could get through to him.

Later on that evening at dinner, Merlin requested a few Riders to be spared to accompany him on a journey south, to see if these rumors of Saxon incursions were true. I had Remus, Conall and Gafran go with him, hoping that perhaps a good kick in the arse from a Pict warrior would whip my men into shape.

A while later, Arthur sent the rest of my men and I, without his accompaniment, to more western provinces to ascertain the economic losses caused by the raids. Gawain came along this time, though I felt as if Arthur was sending him on purpose to keep an eye on me.

For a solid month we scoured the hillsides, occasionally finding a small band of Irish warriors keen on picking a fight. One particular nasty band of rogues flanked us, and we were left outnumbered two to one. Lucky for me my men have been trained well. I took an arrow to the shoulder and a slash to my thigh, my mind weary of judgment. To my surprise and admiration, Aedan took control of the situation; giving out orders quickly, retreating us into the mist, giving Tobias enough time to sneak in a few sniper attacks in the dark.

All and all, we each sported some type of battle scar. I visited with many of the Lords of several villages; some deeply concerned for their people, others no better than the scum that raided them. I was beginning to see how Riders could deal with such leaders.

It became clear to me one damp morning that I had arrived on this island exactly one year ago. An entire year had passed since the murder of my family, since the betrayal of Rome, since the Saxon battle. In one year's time I had gone from Senator's daughter to helpless victim, to captive, and finally, a female captain of the King's Riders. It amazed me to no end God's sense of humor in unraveling my life.

After dealing with a Lord who was paying off the Irish with gold and secrets about how to best scourge his neighbors, all the while protecting his own lands from raids, Gawain and I decided to head back home. One thing I had learned was that even though my duty was to protect the villagers, we still needed to return home at least once a month to ensure the safety of our king.

We were a few days' ride from Camelot, Arthur having insisted on changing the name to our beloved fort. He claimed he would start his reign with a fantastical city from which the foundations of freedom would arise. I had no doubt in my mind he would achieve this. Once Arthur had his mind set, you couldn't change it.

"Argh, my muscles are aching. Can't we take a breather, Cap?" Avery asked, rubbing his thighs as he slowed his mare down.

I shook my head, looking up at the sky. The clouds became dark, moving faster than normal. "Storm's coming. Best get as far from this field as possible. The next village is only an hour's ride from here…look, there's the road." Avery groaned and kicked his horse into a light canter, going slightly ahead of us.

A loud cackle thundered throughout the land, the boom faintly tremoring the ground beneath us as my horse neighed his dislike. At first a few droplets sunk into my hair, followed by a gust of wind that moved the branches of the nearby trees. Those few droplets turned to an outward downpour, the rain coming in thick and unrelenting. Aedan kicked his horse harder and rode up beside me. The wind was becoming deafeningly loud, and he had to shout in order for me to hear.

"Do you think we should just stop for now and head out when the storm quiets down? The horses are tense.." he stated, not a hint of sneer in his voice. A bolt of lightning flashed in the distance, sending my horse into a fit. I used all my energy to calm him down.

"Perhaps your right. Gawain! Avery!" I shouted to the two most in front. "We're stopping."

We were by the road between the clearing and the treeline, and the men headed inward to set up camp. Thunder rolled louder and louder, our own voices inaudible compared to its ferocity.

I let the men rest and headed deeper into the forest, hoping to catch supper. My skills with the bow were adequate, though I could never amount to the archer's Remus and Tobias are. The woods were dark and misty, though it was the middle of the day. Lancelot had taught me numerous tracking skills, and I let my mind tune out the howling wind, the rustling leaves, and the pattering of rain onto the muddy ground. Instead, I focused my senses for the chirp of a bird or a snapping twig. I silently moved upward as the slope increased.

Almost instantly, I stopped. Crouching low, I took one of my arrows and bent back my bow, my hand unshakably clasping it tightly. I looked to the rocks above where I heard it, and silently made my way closer.

A whimper. A human whimper. For a slight second I let my guard down, unsure of who it was. I inched my way closer, keeping my aim true to the rock from which the noise was occurring. Thunder rolled, and the voice sniffled.

My eyes softened when I saw the sight before me. She was scared, her face bleeding and her eyes wide open. Her wrists were bruised, perhaps from being bound by ropes. She couldn't be no more than thirteen or fourteen winters, her blonde hair tousled and sticky with dried blood. She looked right at me, clutching her small kitchen knife shakily. Her body was covered in tattoos, ones that made her out to be a warrior. She looked too weary and wounded to be of any real harm. Still, I wasn't going to take any chances. I put away my arrow and bow, but made sure my knife was still in reach.

"I'm not here to hurt you.." I began softly, reaching forward. She slunk back against the rock, still clutching the knife. She spat on the ground with a fiery spirit, shouting something in a language I did not know.

I tried again, hoping she understood me. "I mean you no harm. I only wish to help…let me look at your wounds…" I tried motioning with my hands, just in case, but her hold on the knife did not change.

"Stubborn lass.." I mumbled, and edged closer anyway. This time she spoke quieter, her eyes dilating and rolling slightly backward. I opened my bag and took out a cloth and apple, throwing them both by her feet. She stared at them, then back at me, her fiery green eyes narrowing. She didn't like being pitied. Or perhaps she didn't like my kind. Perhaps I was untrustworthy in her eyes.

Nevertheless, I was not going to leave her there. Her grip on the knife was relaxing, her wounds making her weary. She grabbed the apple first, munching on it, gazing at me with distaste. Didn't she see I was only trying to help.

"You know I'd love to stay here while you pleasure me with your silence, but I have to get back to my men, and frankly, you need some healing attention…so lets make it easy for both of us. Come down." This time I didn't try motioning with my hands. She understands me, I realized. My sarcasm made her raise her eyebrows. "I know you understand my language. If you do not trust me, that's fine. I suppose it wouldn't help if I said I was a friend of Merlin's."

A spark of life. She bit her lip as the rain continued to pour down our faces. Slowly, very slowly, she lowered her knife. I nodded my head with approval.

"Good. See? I'm not holding any weapons." I put my two hands out where she could see. "Now, take my hand, and let's get you down from here." She did as I was told, but her eyes were still narrowed, her grumbling becoming louder.

She was very weak from her wounds, and I put her arm around my shoulder as we steadily walked back. She clutched her side, and she was limping on her left foot. Someone had treated her very wrong.

When we made it back to camp, the storm was backing down. Five pairs of eyes stared at the two of us as we came into view. "Help would be much appreciated here…" I grumbled, and Gabriel lifted her away from me. She did not make a fuss.

"Thought you were bringing back food…" Gawain began, and I shot him a look that made him quiet.

"Found her wounded against the rocks.

Gabriel put her down against my blanket. She was shivering and shaking all over. She fought to keep consciousness, grabbing the mud with her hands. I put my hand to her forehead. Burning.

"Rest now. Your in good hands." I stated kindly, wishing she would just trust me. She made a noise that sounded a lot like a small chuckle, her eyes still staring menacingly at me. She shook her head from side to side, until her strength left her body, and she fell into a deep, dark sleep.

Avery knew exactly what to do, and for once I saw the comedic side of him leave, and instead he became serious. He shouted out orders for each of us, asking for various herbs to cut. He opened his bag filled with various remedies, and began searching through them. Gawain made a small tent so as to give her privacy, for Avery had to conduct a full body search for injuries, leaving her naked.

I sat with him, assisting as he stitched up a slash in her shoulder. To the many bruises that marked her chest, wrists and thighs, he rubbed a salve on them. There were many bruises and cuts in places I dare not speak of, though looking at it made me writhe with fury. Avery glanced at me with innocence, having never seen a rape victim before. I nodded for him to continue, and I watched as his own eyes narrowed with anger.

He stitched up a few minor cuts on her cheek and forehead. Her left foot was sprained, and he wrapped it up and braced it. One of her ribs was broken. Finally, he gave her a tonic for the fever. He did not speak, he simply left the tent and went over to his blanket. The others looked over at me anxiously when they realized Avery was not going to speak to them.

"She'll be fine, lads." I stated, and laid down next to her, hoping she would not wake until morning.

At dawn I awoke to find Gabriel and Gawain making a makeshift stretcher to bind to my saddle on the back of the horse. It did not take long to construct, and Avery deemed it satisfactory for her to travel on it, provided we go slow and not over any rocky terrain.

With these rules, it took us twice as long to get home. The girl drifted in and out of sleep, her fever taking long to overcome. Avery stayed with her when I couldn't, his eyes full of compassion for the girl. When she was conscious, barely, she did not glare or scoff at Avery the same way she did me. Fine.

When we reached the gates, we found Guinevere eagerly awaiting us with a smile. I dismounted and gave her a small hug of affection. I looked down to see her stomach still the same size. Still she was not with child.

Her smile faded when she saw the girl. "Arria? What happened?" She cried, jogging over to where the girl lay on our stretcher. She bent down at the unconscious girl, touching her forehead.

"I found her hiding in Tuliann Forest. I think she was a captive of some nearby villager."

"You did not investigate this!" She turned on me, her voice dreadfully low and angry.

I kept calm, not letting her anger get the better of me. "She's been in a fever for quite some time now. We had to get her someplace safe." Guinevere blinked, her face returning to its compassionate state.

"Of course. Forgive me for snapping, but the absolute nerve of someone capturing a young girl…its savage."

Avery was looking down. "She wasn't just a prisoner, my queen. I discovered marks on her that could only be left by…well…" He need not finish, for Guinevere's sudden wide eyes alerted him that she understood.

"Let's take her inside. Arthur is anxious to speak with you." Gabriel lifted the girl, and brought her straight into one of the guest bedrooms. I would have followed, but Guinevere was Gawain and I to the library. I turned to Tobias, Avery, and Gabriel.

"Get some sleep. You've all deserved it" I simply stated.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to check in on the girl, address a few of wounds…" Avery stated, shyly, against his usual nature.

I shook my head. "The staff here knows what to do. Rest now. I'm quite proud of you all over the past month. If you'll excuse me…"

"Arria! Gawain!" Arthur called, embracing us both. We all sat down in the dimly lit room, quite aware of the huge stack of maps Arthur had been pouring over on the table beside us. "I promise I won't keep you long, you both deserve some peace and quiet. You may make a full report to me tomorrow at supper. But now…now I must inform you of something that has been troubling me", He gravely stated.

"Yes, my Lord?" Gawain asked, instantly worried.

"I'm sure its nothing, but…Merlin and your other Riders should have returned nearly a week ago. I haven't heard anything…not a single messenger has come."

Gawain beat me to it. "Would you like me to try and find them, sir?"

To this Arthur smiled. "Don't be absurd. I would not send one of my best warriors for such a tedious task. I'm sure they are alright. I've sent Lancelot to get Bors from Archenland and return here. I fear that once our friends return they will bear bad news, and I will need all of my knights for consul. Now- all I need to know tonight, so that I may go to sleep with a clear head, is whether or not the Irish are becoming a much bigger problem than my Riders can handle."

I spoke this time. "We hit a few raiders here and there, nothing extreme. These Irish bands are a growing problem, yes, but nothing we can't handle. I doubt they are planning a full scale invasion, if that's what your worried about."

His face was impassive, and he sighed heavily. "Thank you, Arria. That's all I needed to hear."

At that moment Guinevere silently came through the door, and gave us each a nod. "Excuse me for barging in-"

Arthur smiled. "Not at all. Come, what news have you? Have you spoken with the girl?"

Guinevere took a seat next to her husband, and she brushed back her long wavy hair. "Yes, she wakened for a short time, and thankfully recognized me. Her name is Sorcha."

Arthur chuckled. "Named for the famous girl who saved her six cursed brothers from the evil stepmother. Interesting."

"Indeed…she comes from the Chulainn tribe. It took a lot for her to give that away. She is from one of your Irish raiders, her band was ambushed by angry villagers and all were killed except her. Instead, one of the villagers hid her away in a dark room beneath his lodge." Guinevere now turned to me. "She recognized you, you and the Riders. Said you had killed many of her kinsmen." My face became flushed, I must have been deathly pale.

Gawain quickly came to the defense. "We only killed when they attacked."

"Gawain, there is no need to defend your actions. Once we find out what Merlin has uncovered, I promise you, my Queen, we shall look into this matter. But until then, we have other pressing issues to deal with." Arthur spoke in a tender voice, wishing with all his might not to hurt her feelings. "She'll be safe here."

Guinevere was bothered, but did not let it show. The next day Lancelot arrived with Bors, but still no news of Merlin and my Riders. We met in the room of the Round, where I let Aedan, Gabriel and Tobias give a detailed account of all our dealings with Lords and the Irish. Avery was absent, tending to the Irish girl.

"What is to become of the girl?" Bors questioned.

Guinevere answered him. "She is certainly not to be treated as a prisoner, I assure you. When she is feeling better perhaps she can identify this disgraceful villager, and we'll send her back to her own country."

"Where she can tell all her tribes of Camelot where she was kept in, and of the King and his warriors who slaughtered her people. Face it, she is a liability" Lancelot stated, not a hint of compassion in his tone. I looked over at him, surprised by his statement. It was I who spoke.

"Then what would you do with her, Lancelot?" It was the first time we had spoken, and I was challenging him. He did not even bother to glance my way.

"Keep her here. Treat her fairly, of course….there was a time not so long ago that we encountered this same problem, with a Roman instead of an Irish lass."

"And look how well Arria turned out to be" Guinevere exclaimed.

"Was I also considered a liability!" I shouted, standing up and staring him dead in the eyes. "Did you assume, I too, was an informant to Rome of Arthur's doings?"

This time he had no choice but to look over at me, and when he did I gulped. It was not the look of anger as I expected from one so stubborn as I knew him to be. It was not a look of sneering satisfaction at ticking me off. He stared, his mouth shut, his eyes lowered, his face demure with a sorrow I had never seen.

Arthur cleared his throat. "That is enough, both of you! For now, the girl stays here. As I said last night, my Queen, the girl's fate will be decided later." There was that same commanding voice that only a king could make.

At that moment everything changed. My heart nearly stopped. I grew cold, so cold I didn't know if I would ever feel the warmth of the sun again. Jols appeared at the doorway, his voice faint, his eyes downcast. "Your Majesty-" he interrupted. Jols knew better than to interrupt a meeting. This was important.

"Yes?" Arthur asked, immediately sensing something wrong.

"Sir Gafran has returned." Just Sir Gafran? Was he a messenger?

At that moment Gafran came through the door, limping toward us, his face bloodied, and his clothes slashed. A wave of nausea hit me. He was not the messenger, I concluded. He was the only one left.

"Forgive me, your Majesty." he whispered, and Aedan was immediately at his side, putting his arm over his shoulder and helping him slide down to the floor, against the wall.

"Go get Avery!" Gawain called to a servant. "get him into his room-"

Arthur stood. "Wait, we must here what happened. Gafran, can you speak?" He was now bending over right next to Gafran, placing his hand on the young man's shoulder.

He gasped for breath. "I rode as fast…as fast as I could…betrayed…Lord of Reagan…"

"Easy, son, easy…take a deep breath.." Arthur coaxed, his voice crackling. I knew what was coming.

"Too late…Merlin…Conall….Remus…murdered before my eyes….ran as fast as could to tell you…should have stayed…should have avenged them….The Saxons…they're coming…"

I put a hand to my mouth to keep from bursting out. No….my men…my young warriors….Merlin…this couldn't be happening. I watched as Arthur grabbed his wife, too stunned to move. We were betrayed by a British Lord. The Saxons were coming…and I experienced the cruelty of loss once more.