Thank you soo much for your great reviews! This chapter took alot of energy to write, and it still hasnt come out the way I want it to, but for times sake, I put it out without much tweaking. Maybe in the future I'll have more time to go back and change a few things, but the overall message came out okay, even if the right words didn't. Please review!
Chapter 20
Sleep never came that night. I tossed and turned in my chamber, unable to succumb to the will of my tired body and spirit. I felt broken, unnerved by Guinevere's secret. I could not bear to lose another so dear to me. At one point I tried to imagine what life would have been if my father had never accepted the mission to Britain. We never would have been betrayed…my sisters and father would still be alive. On the other hand, I would have married and probably have already started making babies, and my days would be spent in a lonely complex, awaiting my rich husband's return in the evenings. To many Roman women I suppose this is satisfactory, but then again I am not Roman, not anymore atleast. Everything happens for a reason, and the universe unfolds as God wills it to, no matter what I wanted.
As darkness withdrew its glare and a slight orange tint made its way through my window, I discovered there was no point in trying to sleep anymore. Down on the practice fields, my Riders were conversing with one another in low voices.
"Captain," Aedan called to me, as he stood in a corner with Tobias, Avery and Gabriel. Goodness I hoped the bags under my eye weren't visible.
"I hope you're not huddled over here thinking up various pranks to play on the King's new soldiers."
"Eh, they wouldn't know a joke if it bit them in the arse. Bit stiff, these new recruits are. Tested em out yesterday," Avery stated. Already he had reverted back to his lighthearted nature. I half expected him to be moping about since Sorcha left.
Aedan glared at his comrade, and turned his head back to me. "We can't find Gafran, and his horse is gone."
I sighed. "I don't suppose you think this has something to do with his uncle, do you?"
"All I know is that he needs to be found. He has a short temper."
"He's probably just letting off steam. You saw how angered he looked when he saw Lord Cormack walk in."
"Why is that, anyway?" Tobias piped in. I looked toward Aedan.
"Let's just say Lord Cormack and Gafran have never quite seen eye to eye."
Avery whispered loudly "Meaning the brute never cared much for young Gafran, and probably made him into the conceited lad he is."
"Mind your words, Avery. Now, I doubt this is any cause for alarm. Aedan, I want you and Gabriel to ride out to the Wall and ask for the guard on duty last night. Perhaps he will know something. Avery, Tobias, I want you to head the training of the new recruits today. Detail some of the plans Arthur discussed yesterday. It looks like we'll be seeing battle a bit sooner than we thought." As I finished my orders, I watched as two scouts rode hard into the stable yard, bringing the latest news to Arthur.
By nightfall, the news had hit. The Saxons were marching forward sooner than expected. They would be upon Camelot within three days.
"I should've taken battling Huns in Sarmatia over Saxons when I had the chance…" Gawain stated as he, Aedan and I talked in his quarters. I sat on his bed, staring at his collection of weapons he collected from vanquished enemies. Aedan sat next to me, his blonde curls let down for once.
A knock at the door brought Gawain to his feet, and in walked Lancelot. He stood clean shaven and in a simple brown tunic and trousers. He too had his hair down instead of pulling it back.
"Good, you've come," Gawain stated, and motioned for his friend to sit down next to me.
"And what, dear brother, are we here to discuss?" Lancelot retorted crabbily. He rubbed his eyes, obviously wanting to retire early.
"Something has been weighing on my mind recently, and I thought it best to bring it up with all of you before presenting it to Arthur," Gawain began, pacing back and forth. I felt very uncomfortable between Lancelot and Aedan, almost as if an unannounced tension rose between the two. Trying to listen to the matter at hand, I straightened my sore back and cracked my neck.
"Go on then," Aedan croaked, looking as though he had a feeling of what his friend would say.
Gawain sighed. "When we took on the Saxons at Badon, we were free men under no land of rule. We were fighting to recover a lost identity. Now we will be fighting to keep that identity from those that would steal it, I understand this. I believe I know each of you well enough to think you would prefer death in battle above all else. Unfortunately, so does Arthur. The problem with this is, last time Arthur was not king. There was no monarchy." I was beginning to see where he was going with this.
He continued. "I'm sure his Majesty will not approve. But if…forgive me for being pessimistic…if Camelot falls, we cannot let Arthur sacrifice himself for glory. He must be kept safe, so that one day he, or his children, or his children's children…can emerge from the ashes of defeat."
Silence befell the group. My cheeks flushed when he mentioned Arthur's children, my mind returning to the haunting words of Guinevere.
Aedan was nodding his agreement, understanding it entirely. Lancelot sat with his face emotionless, deeply in thought. "You are suggesting Arthur be absent from battle and taken somewhere safe," I stated. "…Should the tides turn…"
"Forgive me, but this plan is folly. Yes, Arthur would not let you do this, and for good reason! We need his leadership in the midst of battle…his tactics and skills. Plus, the men need to be reassured their so called high king is worthy of such a title. A king that hides has little honor to show his people. If you take this away from him, losing is immanent!" Lancelot bolstered, adamant with his words.
Gawain said, "I see your point, Lancelot, but you must look at the bigger picture. We shall only intervene when we know for sure the battle is lost, and only then. Even if the Saxons invade all of Britain, we need Arthur alive to give hope to the future. If he lives, Britain still has a chance."
Both points seemed justifiable. It was I who spoke next. "You both are speaking as if we have already lost."
"Simply looking at alternatives, Arria."
We talked long into the night, carefully arranging every possible outcome. My throat was harsh from a lack of sustenance that day, and I found my eyes itchy and irritable.
After a long break of silence, Aedan spoke. "I suppose now is a good time to tell you Gafran returned shortly before this little meeting began. He's a bit moody, and wouldn't talk to anyone."
I cracked my neck. "Well, that's one less thing to worry about. Try and talk to him in the morning if you can…I don't need one of my best warriors sulking about."
"Problem with your men?" Lancelot asked.
"No, not at all," was my retort.
A few minutes later we broke up, groggily trekking back to our quarters as dawn approached. I had not slept in over forty eight hours, but once more too many thoughts made it impossible to find comfort under my sheets.
Pulling my hair back, I set out to the stables, placing my saddle on Marrin, the old but reliable chestnut mare.
"Out for a run?" a low voice called, making me jump with fright.
"You should always announce your presence instead of sneaking about when a lady is present" I snapped.
Lancelot cocked his head to the side and smiled. "Glad to see you still consider yourself a lady."
I folded my arms across my chest. "And you don't?"
He continued to smile mischievously, something I haven't seen him do in months. "You will always be a lady. I was just thinking, with you being Captain and all….that you yourself could forget that small factor…I'm sounding like an ass, aren't I?"
"Indeed." I put the bridle on Marrin, who neighed her opposition softly.
"Forgive me for my intrusion, but I was hoping we could take a small ride together." I looked over to see that his horse was already tacked and ready to go.
"I thought you didn't want to talk to me until after this mess with the Saxons was finished," I sneered, stroking the neck of my mare.
His smile faded. "Yes, well, perhaps I was wrong to want to wait."
I scoffed. "Sir Lancelot, wrong? Unthinkable."
We rode as fast through the forests and fields as we could, breaking in our horses for a solid five hours. We did not speak, he simply led the way and I did not ask questions. I was tired, but would not let that show.
Finally he slowed his pace as we entered a hillside field of nothing but tall yellow weeds and a small stream nearby. I recognized it immediately. It was the same field Lancelot had taken me when I had sparred with Gawain my first time atop a horse. Harrow's Field, the place where the body of Irina and te ashes of Titus lay. But Lancelot did not know that matter. Lance quickly dismounted, and sent his horse along to gulp down his well deserved water. I did likewise, waiting for him to speak.
The knight motioned for me to come closer and sit next to him. I kept my distance, sitting a few feet away, and he said nothing. For a few minutes we simply sat, transfixed at the weeds as the wind gently blew against them, pointing them to unknown blue horizon ahead.
"I don't exactly know how to begin this…" he stuttered, and I raised an eyebrow. The Great Sarmatian Knight, the cocky pirate who bedded anything that moved…was nervous.
Suddenly I felt all my emotions spieling over, and my voice was harsh. "Perhaps I can help with that. The only thing that kept me going during my captivity was the thought that you were still alive. I have been too prideful to say it before, but it was my love for you, my hope of reuniting with you that kept me from darkness. I am not afraid to say this anymore. When I returned and stared into your heartless soul, my own folly at loving a man like you showed its true colors, and I thought myself foolish. I suppose I should be thanking you, Sir Knight, for it was in your cold response that I truly found my own strength to carry on."
It had taken much to admit my love for him and my imprudence that came with that emotion. He had kept silent, his lips slightly parting and his eyes downcast in shame. I feel my pain.
He sighed heavily, and scratched the back of his head. He then turned away from me, staring off in the distance as the sun shone directly above us. "That night…the night they took you…it was the worst night of my life." His voice was shaky, as if every word produced some sort of pain within. He continued to look away, too scared to face my stare. "After I fought the assassin, he wounded me deep by my chest. Gawain said I was unconscious for nearly five days afterward, drifting in and out of shadow…my only nightmares of something happening to you. When I awoke…" he took a deep breath. "When I awoke, Gawain told me they had taken you to Rome, to be given to some Senator to be tortured for information. The assassin was caught, and had already left to bring you back under Arthur's word. A pain I had never known before ceased me that instant…a cut deeper than any physical wound I had taken….a terrible fear of losing the only thing that mattered to me."
My heart stiffened at these words, but I said nothing, and kept my face like stone, emotionless. He took that moment to glance over at me for a second, and then he turned his gaze back to the wheat field ahead, clearing his throat. I had been waiting for this answer a long time.
"That day I stormed into the Room of the Round, my injuries still not well enough for me to walk very far. Arthur explained that this assassin dog had given his word to bring you back. I told him it wasn't good enough…we needed to send out soldiers immediately. But Arthur would not concede. Something inside me snapped…a cold that swept through my entire body, as if I had been possessed by some other creature. I…I gripped my sword and held it to my king's throat…demanding him to send me to Rome. The next thing I knew, I was waking up in my room a few days later…high fever and more wounds that required longer to heal. I could not believe it…in my fury for my one true love I put my own king…my best friend…in danger of myself."
My eyes widened with shock, as everything was piecing itself in my mind. "I put love before reason, and almost hurt everything I stand for. Over the next few weeks Arthur had me contained in my room as I howled my wallows, slowly becoming a dark madman filled with grief. Any other would have had me tried and executed for treason…but Arthur understood my rash act."
He now faced me, staring hard into my eyes with truth. "When you came back, my mind soared with relief and worry. I had my lioness once more….but with your return came a dark truth. I am Lancelot, Knight of the Round, Charmer of wives. I thought my strength came from my confidence. You broke that confidence the moment you stepped into my life. Never before had one challenged me so…never had anyone matched my fiery spirit. With you, I felt helpless under your spell. I was madly in love. But when you came back, I realized I could not love you anymore. I would not love you. My duty was to my king, not love. For to lose you would be the harshest pain of all. I will die young, in battle, of this I am certain. I can bed whomever I please and father many sons and daughters….but I thought the risk of losing you to some Roman dog or Saxon sword would be unbearable. And I did not want you to feel the same for me. I did not want you to go into battle, distracted of my safety or broken hearted if I fall. I thought your happiness should lie with another, one willing to sacrifice you to this cause." He was trembling within, as a small tear slid slowly down his left cheek. Lancelot bit his lower lip in embarrassment.
I gathered enough courage to speak. "That is the most dimwitted thought you've ever had. Tell me, do you still feel this way?"
He actually smiled, showing his teeth as he gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, keeping his fingers locked on my neck.
"I thought I was saving you from a life of misery. It turns out that being apart from you only made me sorrowful that I was living without the other half of my soul." What I saw before me was a man searching for life, a man brought down by his fears and as scared as a little boy of getting hurt.
My hands were shaking, and my voice trembled. "But why did you find solace in the company of other women?"
He shook his head. "I thought I could erase you from my mind…" He smiled again, this time his voice barely a whisper. "But it seems your as stubborn in my heart as you are on the outside. Arria…you've made me believe I am more than flesh…I had no right to end things the way I did."
He leaned in, and let his lips gently grasp unto mine. My body went numb as he caressed my skin, holding me tightly as if the entire Hun army could not part us. It felt so right, as if we were one person when our bodies met.
But reason took over, and I pushed him away. "No Lancelot," I commanded, my voice stern. "I will not fawn over you after what you've done. Your wound is too deep, and your prayers have been answered. In battle, I will not be distracted, because I care not for your safety. You have lost that right to gain back my heart….and I guess you will not have to worry about losing me anymore. You've already lost me."
Without another word, I fled to my horse and mounted her quickly, riding her as fast and as far from him as I could, until he was only the size of a fly in the distance behind. Only at that moment did I let the tears flow, angered by his answer and my harsh, prideful words.