Hahaha, you guys are hilarious! I was rereading old reviews from previous chapters, and how some of you were like "eww don't let Arria take him back! Lancelot sucks!", etc…..and now these newest reviews are… "stupid Arria, take him back!". Oh how I love to toy with your minds J
Chapter 21
I slept the entire day away in my quarters, commanding the servants to keep my door closed under all circumstances. Hugging my satin pillows tightly, I dreamed only of him…the way he smiled, the way he laughed…his playful eyes. Those eyes, I missed them dearly, but could not help but think they would return if only I beckoned. No, I told myself. The battle is near, and I must have my wits.
When I woke, it was night once more, as the songs of crickets filled the night air. Down at the Room of the Round, one final meeting was held. The storm of Saxons would hit tomorrow, and hell would be unleashed in the days to come. Guinevere sat by her husband, gently stroking his hand as he spoke. The slightest glance at his love made my heart break with suffering. Surely he must sense something is wrong. She was paler still, as white as the old tales of ghosts. Her frail figure no longer contained its strength, and she was wasting away before our eyes. She looked over as I entered, and her stare said it all. She would not tell anyone her condition. Stubborn lass.
I kept my pain within. Gawain seemed unusually stiff, unsure of what tomorrow would bring. Aedan sat beside him, almost excited but trying desperately to conceal it. It would be his first battle, after all. Many a young man had that look before charging into the pool of blood. Gafran was to his left, smirking over at his uncle, who did not even gaze over at his sister's son. I am not afraid of you, his thoughts seemed to drift over. I felt a chill rise within me, and I told myself to talk with the lad before he retired. Something was not right with him, and we needed him strong tomorrow.
As for myself, I let my thoughts drift back to the Battle of Badon, a little over a year ago. How scared I was, how green and utterly useless I had felt back then. Tis not boasting to say I've come a long way since then, learning the ways of the warrior. To think of any other life than where I was at this moment, surrounded by my brothers is impossible. Though my heart was beating faster and faster, almost in tune with the enemy drums hailing nearer to the Wall, I managed to keep a calm and focused complexion. Inside I was a mess.
Lancelot would not look at anyone, especially me, for which I do not blame him. He stared off into an unknown abyss, probably remembering past battles as I had done. He had cut his hair, its length returning to its short form, as when I first met the knight. I liked it short.
Lord Cormack brought forth two scouts, who revealed the locations of the coming Saxons in relation to our border. By nightfall tomorrow, they would be at our doorstep. With great care Arthur revealed our first form of attack. Oil was to be dripped in the field before the Wall, separating the legions as we had done at Badon. Archers always went first. Our cavalry was to then ride forth and flank the right half of the enemy as the archers took out the left, bunching them in the middle. Hopefully the new Saxon leader will send atleast ¾ of his men in after.
I tried to listen as Arthur went over the plan of action for the fourth time. We will have the high ground, and in order for the Saxons to reach us, they will have to climb over the endless boulders the Woads release. The plan seemed feasible, considering we were so largely outnumbered.
We were told to sleep well that night, for who knew when we would rest our eyes again in the days to come. Very few took this advice. Out in the village, candles were lit in every window, in hopes of victory. In the morning the villagers would pack up and leave to the mountain country northward. I went to the stables; my place of solace. As I tenderly brushed the hairs of my battlehorse, I whispered praise to my Lord and requested safety for my men as the battle drew nearer. The brown mare stared at me with its coal black eyes, flicking its ears as a response.
Out on the practice field, I could see the outline of a young man ruthless thrusting its sword in a pattern far more complex than I could do. Gafran was always a silent killer, expert in expounding his energy without raising his voice for more effect. A new player emerged in the darkness and took his place facing my Rider, his sword unsheathed and mocking its edge toward Gafran.
I was hidden at the edge of the stables, but could hear and see the confrontation take place. "I had hoped you'd be here," Lord Cormack stated in a firm tone.
Though I could only see the outline of his features, I knew Gafran was seething within. "I did not think you would come to Camelot."
The elder chuckled. "My loyalties lie with my king, young one, and I will help when needed. I should hope the same from you…but then again, you are your father's offspring." Their blades pointed at each other as they circled. I raised my eyebrow, unsure of this confrontation. Was it a mere exercise, or something more?
"And you have reminded me daily of it, uncle. For fifteen years I have never been referred to as your nephew, but my father's whelp. When will I be considered my mother's son?"
Blades clashed, and still I was unsure whether this was a match of words or a fight that would end in bloodshed. They pivoted and thrusted, blocking each swing blow for blow. It seemed the Lord Cormack had taught his nephew everything he knew about swordsmanship.
Cormack smirked. "Prove to me your worth during the battle, Gafran. Prove to me your innocence by killing your king's enemy. I trained you to be the best so that one day you shall redeem the good name of this family that your father ruined!" The Lord used this opportunity to kick the boy's ankle, thus tripping him. Gafran fell and Cormack thrashed his sword out of the boy's hand. I narrowed my eyes in disgust. Aedan was right when he described the kind of life Gafran had with a monster like Cormack. A monster to his nephew he may be, part of me stated, but an asset to Arthur's army.
He leaned in close, closer than I would have liked had I been Gafran. "Personally I hope you fall under a Saxon blade. Ironic, wouldn't it be?" Odd, I thought. I wonder what his words meant.
Gafran didn't respond, he simply sat until his uncle walked away. I made my move when the Lord Cormack closed the door into the tower behind him. Gafran was picking up his sword when I approached.
I was to his back when he said, "You saw it, didn't you?" He turned around to face me, his face red with anger.
"Yes."
He sheathed his sword and walked over to a nearby rock, squatting down. "I would like to be alone, Captain." His tone was commanding and firm, not wanting to be disobeyed. However, I was the superior.
"Request, if anyone would call that a request, is denied. You don't have to talk about what just happened with me, Gafran…but you will explain your actions for yesterday. Leaving the grounds without permission is a punishable offense!"
He didn't know how to back down, and stared at me with contempt. "I had business to take care of," he pertly stated, willing me to react harshly.
"I see. Too proud to admit you left to subdue your anger over seeing your uncle? If your worried I'll take pity on you…don't be. I see now the kind of life you have had to endure, but believe me Gafran…your anger solves nothing. Let go this hate and focus on victory tomorrow. It pains me to say it, but I have need of you, as does Arthur. Your of more worth than you think."
He guffawed maliciously. "You mean my skills are of worth! And forgive me, Captain, but you know nothing of pain." He stood up and began to walk back to his quarters. "Tomorrow I will prove my worth."
I could not think of anything to say. His behavior was inexcusable, and many a officer would have ended his title as Rider right then. But he was right. I needed his skills tomorrow. Let him sulk, my mind stated. I needed rest, not a head ache over what to do with a confused boy like Gafran.
The warning bell rang out at dawn as the villagers started to move out, with Jols leading them. Soon after, scouts reported a large group of about fifty warriors that were neither Woad nor Saxon approaching Hadrian's Wall from the west, traveling at lightning speed. Arthur commanded thirty soldiers plus my Riders to ride out and confront them.
We saddled quickly and I led the team away from the Wall and toward the Western Forest, where the scouts had reported the group had stopped with a flag bearing friendship.
As we neared, I dismounted from my horse, as did the others as we crept along. Down in the quarry stood the warriors, standing with their weapons on but not in confrontation. The flag still wavered as I made our presence known.
"I think my eyes are deceiving me, Captain….are those Irish?" Aedan exclaimed, and a murmor went through the soldiers.
Sure enough, I found myself grinning. Coming out of one of the main tents was a girl of teenage years with blonde hair bearing the mark of the boar on her shield. An older man emerged beside her, placing one hand on her shoulder as she led him to our party, her look somber but her eyes playful with delight.
Avery stood to my left, trying immensely to hide his glee. The warrior girl looked into his eyes for a moment, then turned her attention on me. I raised my hand, the soldiers behind me lowering their spears and swords.
"Greetings, Captain Arria of the King's Riders. Forgive our intrusion of your majesty's land, but it is with peace we come," she stated, her Latin almost perfect. An interpreter for the Irish warriors behind her sounded her speech. She continued. "Might I present my father, Lord Hail of Crestwind and leader of Cuhatain Clan." Her father stepped forward. He was of middle age with dark brown hair and a neatly trimmed beard. His eyes were weary to trust, but loving for his daughter.
"My daughter explained to me the crisis occurring in the land of Briton. Though our two lands have been at war for centuries, the Cuhatain Clan wishes to pledge an alliance with your King in the hopes that Saxons shall never reach our shores. Sorcha told me what you have done for her, and for that I am grateful. Please consider this only an allegiance to protect our lands…once we have won, I cannot promise peace between our two nations."
I couldn't help but grin. "I cannot speak on behalf of my king, but for myself you are most welcome. Come, there is no time to waste- we must reach Hadrian's Wall before midday and start assembling the warriors. Your extra men will be most helpful in part of our plan."
The Irish Lord of Crestwind nodded to his daughter, and signaled his men to quickly pack and begin the journey toward Camelot. I rode alongside Hail, and paired Sorcha with Avery behind us. Aedan struck up conversation with Hail's second in command as we rode along, finding a common dialect to use.
"This king of yours..I had heard he was Roman, yet he chooses to elect women as warriors?" Sorcha's father stated, not so much in question form. I could hear the edge of respect in his tone.
"Indeed. Arthur believes all humanity to be equal, and he stands for freedom against the oppressors. For some strange reason he sensed some strength in me, to give me such a title. Could you believe I used to be Roman?"
He raised an eyebrow, and at that moment looked very similar to his daughter. "Odd land, Briton is. Interesting characters."
"Perhaps…when all is well and the Saxons are vanquished, your people could visit more, under better terms."
He chuckled. "Many in Ireland think my clan is crazy to give aid to the enemy. If not for Sorcha, this mission would not be occurring. However, already some of my doubts are proving to be untrue."
"Doubts?"
"Well, I never expected to be having a civilized conversation with a Roman female turned British Captain over peace between two lands that have been warring for centuries."
"Indeed, it does sound strange. Perhaps we should speak later on this. Right now I should probably fill you in on some of our military tactics. The Saxons will be upon us come morning."
Behind me, I heard Sorcha let out a giggle as Avery laughed whole heartedly. It was then that I prayed for victory, for hope that peace will exist.
When we reached Camelot, Arthur, as I predicted, welcomed our visitors enthusiastically and bade the Lord Hail to confer with him strategies and the like. Tobias took the new men into their own barracks, far from the rest of the soldiers. The last thing we needed was some old rivalries and blood oaths to be brought up between Irish and Briton.
Gawain approached me as the sun fell, complaining that Gafran tried to start something between himself and a young Irish braggart. The fight was quickly drawn off before much notice would come of it. I ripped my nails through my hair. "That boy will be the death of me, I swear!".
"Leave it be, Cap'n. We'll deal with Gafran after this bloody business with the Saxons is over. Keep yer wits about you….um….speaking of wits…I better leave." He stopped staring behind me and fled from the barracks, leaving me utterly puzzled. I turned around to face what Gawain had been so nervous about. The hairs on my arms raised.
"Lancelot, I cannot deal with this right now. There is too much at stake to-" He silenced me quickly, a look of sheer hunger in his eyes as he threw his arms across my back in an embrace as his lips found exactly what they were looking for. I closed my eyes and let his body touch mine, his lips parting from my mouth and caressing my cheek and neck and ear. At first all I could do was moan, my body screaming its excitement.
"No…Lancelot…" I whispered, even my voice not wanting to listen to my mind. I found the courage I needed and used what strength I could to push him slightly off me.
"No," I stated, with more force. He looked straight into my eyes….the kind of look that exposes your true self within.
To my surprise, I found he was smiling. "I knew you would push me away. Forgive me, Arria…but I needed that before tomorrow came. I'm sorry." I blinked three times with my mouth open as he started to walk away. I looked around and saw that no one was near.
I ran. I ran as hard as I could and caught up with him before he could round the corner, before my brain could process my actions. Your not being sensible, part of me commanded. I brushed that thought away, and wrapped my arms around his neck. I kissed him harder than I ever had before, letting my hands push against his head as I moaned the ecstasy of it.
He let me do this, and kissed me back with just as much force. We let this go on for minutes, but to me it was an eternity of elation. Finally we reduced the length of them, until our lips slowly started to back away from each other. I opened my eyes and stared into his, a hidden lust revealing itself. I could see a part of me reflecting off his eyes, and saw the same lust in them. A pain in my gut sounded, demanding to acknowledge my strength being destroyed by sheer sultriness.
My hands were gently placed on his cheeks as he breathed deeply on to me. "I…I…I…." Compose yourself, I commanded. "Perhaps I needed that too. This means nothing, Lancelot" I stated with authority. I still had my pride, though my heart felt sick from it.
He grinned boyishly. "As you wish, Captain. Though I will get you back to me one day. One day, lioness."
I was too shocked to reply at first. I smiled my confusion. "I think not, sir knight! I am not some prize to be won! I will choose whom I love, you will not make that choice!"
He grinned again and rounded the corner, out of my view. I leaned against the wall, unsure of what just happened. Exhaling sharply and loudly, I shook my head. Of all the times to start thinking about love, this was the absolute worst.
"How dare he…" I stated to the wall. Inwardly my heart chuckled, as if this game was some type of foreplay for something greater. Well, one thing is certain, my mind stated. He knows how to push me. I began to walk away, and against my will a slight smile began to form on my mouth.