I suck at planning out my stories carefully, but I'm pretty sure there will only be about 3-5 more chapters left with this one. I could make it longer, but I see no point in drawing it out when I don't have enough time to do that. Sorry my chapter updates are monthly, I'll try and make these last ones weekly.

Chapter 19

I rode at the head over the next few days, tilting my head around to see Avery and Sorcha always deep on some topic or another as they rode side by side. Rolling my eyes, I used all the energy I could into making sure no ambush was in sight. It was best to speak with as many lords as possible before reaching the western sea.

I let Sorcha stay with us as we talked to the nobles, as long as she kept silent. Lord Balian dispatched over one hundred of his soldiers to Camelot, while Lord Dominic sent fifty. It was hard to spare soldiers when invading raids were occurring so frequently. Overall, Avery and I had mustered three hundred men to serve against the Saxon incursion, and it was clear we needed to get back home soon.

"Here is where we leave you" I stated as my mare halted against the coastal shores. Seagulls hailed their welcomes as the waves sounded their power. All of us dismounted and headed over to the boatman I had arranged from our meeting of the last nobleman.

"He will take you as far as the Isle of Man, where another boat waits. From there I trust you can get home by yourself" I said seriously, though inside I was a wreck of nerves. Would the girl keep her promise?

Sorcha nodded her head gratefully and eyed Avery. "You have both been very kind to me. I shall speak of nothing but your rescue of me to my people. Perhaps one day in the future we can discuss further terms of peace between our two countries."

Avery gave her a solemn look, though in the back of his head their was a yearning I could easily sense. "The Saxons will not stop if they take over Britain. Once they are through with us they will come for your island and its riches."

His words hurt, as if he foretold the truth that failure was immanent. She let her lips part slightly, something I used to do quite often. It was the look of forbidden lust. Compiling herself, she spoke. "This I will also tell my father, though an alliance between Ireland and Britain is extremely unlikely." She uncomfortably gazed away and looked my way once more. "I know you don't trust me, Captain. But thank you. Perhaps in the future I shall look for the good in others, even if that costs me dearly."

I could only slightly bow my head in recognition. Avery slipped something into her hand and winked. "Be a good lass, then," he optimistically commented, shrouding his obvious concern for the girl. She kept her hand closed and her head high, knowing already what he had given her.

As we began to canter off the sand and back into hillside, I looked over at my comrade with my eyebrow raised in curiosity. Avery did not bother to even glance back at me. He kept his head low and his sighs soft.

"I was thinking we'd make one final stop at Hempstead a bit south of here. The governor there was weary to swear allegiance to Arthur, but perhaps he'll spare a few men to our cause," I said, desperately trying to get his mind off the girl. I don't think he heard me. Strange, this all was. Avery, our cocky jester, had fallen hard for a girl he barely knew, a girl who was a bit young for him to begin with, and the enemy of Britain to boot. But there was no mistaking the sorrowful look he gave as he stared at the ground ahead of him. He was in love, with someone who, seemed to me, returned his affections in a nonverbal way. I found myself actually jealous of his feelings. Jealous of the way they communicated without words and connected on a level I had experienced only once before.

Who knew if I would ever experience love again. I had come to terms with the fact that I would not live long on this earth. My duty to the crown almost forbade me from being allowed a peaceful life well into old age. Dinna matter. I was the daughter of Nicoteles the Wise, and therefore knew what was important in this life.

I did not need love to brand the way I lived my life. I had my moral beliefs, and my strong stance on equality and freedom to keep me going. Still, no matter what I told myself, my heart ached for something more, and it came at the worst possible moment.

We rode in to Camelot a few days later as villagers and soldiers alike were working together to make new barracks right behind the Wall. Companies were coming in droves, while we made arrangements to set up simple housing quarters. All signs meant the battle was to take place somewhere near Camelot. Scouts had given word the Saxons were slowly marching northwest as they waited for more ships to arrive. It was useless to fend them off on the coastline, with so many ways for them to overcome the borders. Villages had been evacuated, and were sent north of the Wall into Pict territory, to which many were nervous about. Though our relations with the Woads had improved since the joining of Guinevere and Arthur, villagers previously exposed to their raids could not fathom peacefully co-existing with them.

Upon our return, Guinevere thanked me in private for going against Arthur on this matter. The King did not even mention a word of the Irish girl to us, and we certainly were not going to bring it up. Bors had made Archenland the prime location for refugees to stay at while the Saxons were raiding in the south. He grumbled a bit about food supplies and shelter for the many mouths to feed, but ultimately he obeyed Arthur's word.

Lancelot guessed we had two weeks to prepare until the dogs came slobbering on our doorstep. Soon all my Riders made it back to the fort, each bringing as many soldiers as possible. In the end, we estimated we had about fifteen hundred arms. With the latest news from the south, the word was the Saxons were over three thousand in number, with more arriving by ship each day. The ratio was not helping the dark gloom that swept through the hearts of our men.

The new Pict leader, Corwin, came a week later with two hundred seasoned warriors, which added a spark of hope to our quest. Guinevere barked orders to the servants, making sure all soldiers were fed well and training constantly. One could say this was the first true legion that Britain had ever acquired under the reign of Artorius Castus.

As for me, I trained with the men during daylight hours and by night met with a small council to discuss our progress.

"We need to use the trees to our advantage this time. We know the land, they don't. We could take out a quarter of their men if we divert them into the misty woods," Lancelot explained, taking a gulp of ale from his goblet. He had heavy bags under his eyes from endless unrest. I knew because I was experiencing the same thing. Aedan looked thoughtfully on this request.

"Indeed the woods are a powerful ally. Between the mist, our archers could strike from the tops of trees. And traps could be set. I hear our Woad friends are good at that sort of thing."

All eyes turned to Corwin, who smirked his delight at the praise. Arthur nodded his approval at the proposal and sipped from his cup. His dark brown hair was tossed and curly, and he obviously hadn't shaven his beard for awhile. Our scruffy king was troubled, and his worrisome emotions showed. He extended his elbows forward on the table and folded his hands, pressing all the weight of his chin down in thought.

I looked to Guinevere, who sat like a pale ghost staring forward. A tiny cough escaped her lips, but she quickly tried to cover it up by clearing her throat. Lancelot glanced at her, then at me. For all my loathing of him, I still appreciated his concern for others. His look meant for me to talk to the queen later. I blinked once slowly, indicating I would.

Jols appeared at the door, bowing to Arthur. "What is it, Jols?"

"Your Majesty, Lord Cormack of Glencarson has just arrived and wishes to speak with you."

Gafran's uncle. I slightly opened my mouth, in surprise. My eyes immediately fluttered over to Gafran, who stiffened in his seat, his eyes becoming cold. I looked away, and could tell Aedan was glancing over at me. Arthur had Jols show the Lord without delay into the Room of the Round, and we all stood.

He a tall, broad shouldered man of about 6'3. His square jaw and thick eyebrows gave off an unpleasant air to him, but I suppose the local girls would deem him quite a catch for a man in his late thirties.

When he spoke, his voice was deep and commanding. "Your Majesty, forgive my intrusion but I came as fast as I could. I'm sorry I could only spare forty six of my men, but Glencarson is far too close to the Saxons at hand to spare any more. As for myself, I have left my son in charge of my affairs so I could proudly serve you."

I raised my eyebrows. He certainly seemed an honorable man. But looks can be deceiving. Lord Cormack glanced over at his nephew and bowed his head in acknowledgement. Gafran just stared at him, his eyes narrowing in disgust.

"We gladly appreciate your men, Lord Cormack. It has been too long since I have seen you," Arthur stated with a smile. Guinevere nodded her approval. After introductions were made, business carried on until sundown.

I immediately followed Guinevere when she retired early, and as swift as a ghost closed the door to her room behind me without her noticing. As she softly walked over to her nightstand and began to brush her long hair I silently stepped forward.

"My Queen…" I stated, but stopped when she jolted in surprise, dropping her comb to the ground.

She held her heart for a moment, then tried to place a smile on her lips. "My dear, you scared me…"

I did not smile back. "Guinevere what are you doing? Your not eating, your not sleeping, you barely speak a word to anyone, and your worrying your husband to death!" Never before had I raised my voice to her, and I dare say I probably never will again. I continued. "When I came back from Rome you came to me in concerned about my well being, well now I'm returning the favor, and I demand to know the cause of this!"

She gulped in her saliva and clenched her teeth together, closing her mouth tightly as she furrowed her brow. For a moment I thought my eyes were deceiving me, but I swear as God is my Grace that a small tear trickled down the face of my warrior queen. I blinked, and it was gone, along with her frustrated glare.

"The Saxons are upon us.. I fear for my people, my friends, my husband-"

I rolled my eyes. "Guinevere do not coy with me. I'm your friend. We have been in this situation before, and I'm sorry but your pride is too great to let the fear of Saxons reduce you to this state. The truth." I folded my arms to make my point clear. For some strange reason, I did not care that I was yelling at my superior. Titles mattered little now.

She looked down at the ground in front of her, folding her small hands together. "I have lost my father, Arria…"

I softened my look and crouched down to her level where she sat. I brushed a stray hair from her face. "We all have lost someone dear to us recently. I acknowledge your grief, but you are still lying to me. You know Merlin would not let you grieve in the way you are making yourself sick. Please, Guinevere. We've been through so much together. You know I consider you to be a sister."

At this she smiled, and lifted her gaze to look at me. Her eyes were swollen and red. "I suppose you deserve to know. The healers say I cannot bare children." It took every ounce of strength for her to say this. I could only open my mouth at the words that escaped her mouth. She touched her stomach and looked away, coughing a few times.

"Guinevere, I-I'm sorry". I had no idea what to tell her. This had been her and Arthur's dream, to bare heirs and raise a large family. "Does Arthur know?" I asked.

"He knows he will never have an heir born from me." Her voice changed, and she looked ahead, almost as if she was staring into the future. "He will have a child, one day though. I know it."

"Guinevere-"

She sharply turned back to me. "He does not know I'm dying. I have forbidden the healers of speaking with him on this. I give you the same order." She proudly lifted up her chin, expecting defiance. She was fit to be a queen. I put a hand over my mouth, knowing her words to be true. She now stood and walked me over to her bed, where she had me sit next to her. My beautiful lady cupped her hands into mine and gave me a squeeze of reassurance, though I felt there was nothing to assure me anything would be alright.

She put her head on my shoulder. "Do you remember that night, after the Battle of Badon….when we were sparring for the first time?" I could only nod. Words seemed useless.

"I was speaking the truth when I said with you we are unstoppable. Promise me that when this war is over and Britain is free once and for all of those Saxon dogs…you'll continue to fight for what you hold dear."

I let out a small laugh that was half hearted. "I don't even remember what I've been fighting for anymore."

She lifted her head off of me and stared straight into my eyes, and probably into my heart as well. "Take out your dagger."

It was an order, and I did as she asked. "Read the encryption to me."

I sighed and looked at Dagonet's prized weapon. "Truth, justice, and love."

Guinevere nodded. "The code of our Sarmatian friends. A strong code that every nation should aspire to hold. These are your values, Arria. You have never forgotten them…simply hid them from view."

I ran my fingers over the blade and through the insignia. "And who gave this to you, Arria?" She questioned, knowing fully well the answer. I desperately wanted to glare at her in annoyance, but my heart wouldn't let me.

"Lancelot," I answered, hoping no emotion came from my tone.

"You've done well fighting for justice and truth…but you chose to forlorn the last part of that code, the greatest of them all. You believe he stole that last bit from you."

I began rubbing my temples. "My broken romance with Lancelot did not hinder my performance as Captain of the King's Riders."

"Not physically but you are to stubborn to say you have not felt complete since your return from Rome. It is time to let go your anger and talk to him."

I stood up in anger at her words. "I-I can't believe what your saying! And its not like I haven't tried, he's being difficult!"

"Oh really? Have you tied him up to a chair and made him listen?"

"No, but-"

"Have you yelled at him, thrown stuff at him, begged him to talk about it?"

"No, I happen to be an adult."

"Oh, I see. So you kindly asked for a word and when he told you you'll talk later, you said okay."

I grunted my disliking of this conversation. "What does it matter, Guinevere? We had a small fling, something he did not even care about enough to take further before jumping into bed with other women as I dragged myself bruised and broken back to this confound country!"

"Arria Gaius, sit down!" Her tone was bitter, and for a second I feared for my life if I did not do as she commanded. "Honestly, you are as pig headed as he! Now listen. You have not felt complete since you saw him in the arms of another woman. You shirked it off because you did not want to look the fool, but inwardly it was killing you little by little every day. He completes you. You know what they call that? Love. He is your soul mate, your other half. And the only reason I'm telling you this is because I want to see you happy before I go!" I hated her for saying these things. I hated her for knowing me so well. But mostly, I hated her because I knew she would leave me soon. It was taking every ounce of energy for me not to break down and cry for her just then. But I knew she would simply scorn me if I took pity on her.

Finally I spoke. "It was he that ended it, not me."

"So ask him why. Make him answer you. And it must be done before the Saxons come."

"Why is that?"

"Because I fear we may not win this time."