Chapter Two: Meetings
Before he even opened his eyes, Lancelot's hands flew instinctively behind his head, clutching his twin blades. A rustling near him had snapped his light, uncomfortable slumber as he suddenly remembered why he sat on scratchy hay amongst the smell of horses. He had not left the stables; the knight had not meant to fall asleep, but to wait with a burning mind—for Arthur.
The Roman was brushing his ivory stallion with a blank expression. Lancelot, blinking his eyes rapidly at the new daylight scrambled to his feet with a sore groan. Arthur did not even turn his head.
"Strange that a legendary knight of the Round Table would sleep with the horses…" he smirked, a smile creeping to the corners of his mouth. Lancelot was not amused.
"Strange that a commander would break his own rule of traveling alone," Lancelot retorted. Arthur's smile gloomed over. He sighed deeply and then turned his eyes to his knight's.
"I did not venture far, Lancelot. And besides, I think I am capable of riding through the woods alone every now and again…"
"Are your knights not capable, Arthur?" Lancelot hurled at him. "Are we not trained soldiers, grown men, for that matter?" Arthur wrinkled his forehead.
"You know I posses not one shred of doubt in any of my knights' abilities--"
"Tell me where you went," he demanded suddenly, stepping towards the Roman. Arthur's eyes betrayed his surprise; his silly surprise that Lancelot had not given up. He looked away briefly, licking his lips to prepare some sort of explanation.
"I simply rode, Lancelot. I couldn't sleep so I--" The knight let out a loud, interrupting cackle, dropping his arms to his sides.
"Honestly Arthur, after all of our years together, did you really believe I would find that legitimate? Just tell me the truth, Arthur. Put my concerns to rest. Was it for God? Did you race away, slash open the side of your face, and pull your weapon on me to talk to your God?"
"I would never hold my sword to you in the name of God, Lancelot, never!" Arthur erupted. "Not even if He ordered it himself. Do not ever presume that again." Lancelot was momentarily silenced. Arthur shook his head slowly from side to side. Through clenched teeth, he painfully repeated, "Not if He ordered me himself."
"Then why?" The Roman turned away. Arthur did not even here the strained question; he was lost in memories of the previous evening:
"Your knights are legendary, Arthur Castus. Renowned in Rome—renowned the world over!" The robed figure spun his golden goblet in his hand, scraping it against his many rings.
"Thank you, sir. We offer you all our services and protection while you remain in Britain." Two servants approached him intently, one offering a tumbler of dark wine, the other holding a plate of fruits and cheeses under his nose. He waved them off anxiously.
"Forgive me, sir, but may I inquire as to how I may be of service now, at such an hour?" Arthur had asked politely as possible. The governor let out a bellow of laughter; Arthur could only shift his weight, uncomfortably bringing his face to a partial grin, failing to find the humor in his query.
"You see, Arthur Castus? That is just what I've heard about you: your frankness. How refreshing from the stuffy, scheming politics of Rome. Now let me be frank with you, Arthur. I love to indulge myself in…shall we say, entertainment? Of course, I am more than exultant to serve Rome in this insufferable place." The Roman spat sharply to the side. "But there are simply some luxuries I will not go without.
"So, Arthur, I propose a deal. I can end your command today, advance you more money than you will ever see from the Roman army and you can return to home as soon as the arrangements are made." Arthur's muscles were pulled taut. His mouth was desperately dry but he managed to croak out the question of circumstance.
"In return I would require your knights. Skilled, exciting warriors to fight my team of gladiators—they grow weary of one another. You needn't worry about the protocol, naturally. Besides, in this barren wasteland who will gossip of the whereabouts of a few Samatian knights?"
"Arthur?" A different voice was calling his name, distantly. His shoulders shook and the dark stone room of the Governor's villa crumbled away. Lancelot was the wrecking ball. The knight stood in front of him now, hands upon his shoulders, eyes critical and worried.
"I cannot, Lancelot," Arthur suddenly yelled, breaking loose. "I will not…" He raced out of the stables, almost knocking down Gawain who was approaching. The blonde-haired knight looked at Lancelot quizzically, then turned to watch the retreating form of his commander.
"Arthur, I give you your freedom, your home, a fortune at no cost."
"At no cost?" Arthur had cried. "These men, who I have fought beside, lived beside and died a thousand deaths beside—at no cost? Governor, I strongly doubt that you can ever understand the enormity of such a cost to me. My men have deserved their freedom every day of these fifteen years—"
"Damn it all, Castus, I had hoped the sentimentality of your father had somehow been bred out of you. What does it matter what they have deserved? They are Samatian; it is only a matter of time before Rome encompasses the whole globe, their pathetic nation included.
"Perhaps I should not have made this sound so optional. I am not so much making a request as I am an order. Go back to Rome and forget them and this place, Arthur. Do not dishonor yourself over such a trivial matter."
"If you send me back to Rome, I will spend every waking moment discrediting your name and office. I will raise such a hell that you will never be able to set foot on the continent again. You speak of dishonor—I will redefine it for you. You speak of trivial matters—I will make certain this becomes the most damning choice of your life." The governor cackled, evilly amused.
"You test my patience, Arthur. But I intend to be more reasonable than you. You are welcome to make a counter-offer and I suggest you do so. I could just take them by force, you know, leaving you with no profit from the situation, no choice." Arthur needed no time to prepare his thoughts.
"Grant my men their freedom and you may have me. I will fight in your 'arena'." The governor's eyebrows rose contemplatively.
"You shock me, Arthur. You would sell yourself for their sake?"
"Fifteen times over. They have suffered and feared for my cause. I would not hesitate to do the same, or worse, for theirs."
"Done then!" The governor declared, standing from his throne. "This should prove most entertaining. Of course you must see to your regular duties for now, until the command is officially complete. But I may call upon you from time to time and you will comply, Arthur. Should you fail, I will not hesitate to simply take what I seek."