The next two days passed swiftly in the same manner, Arthur taking them around the various villages that littered southern Briton. When they saw wrongs, they righted it. When they saw injustice, they came forth to challenge those who inflicted it.

It was a learning experience for the knights, and Arthur most of all. For the captain swiftly learned that his ideals were most strained when put to the test of reality, and only with his Lord's help and his father's memory did he remain on his chosen path.

For the part of his men, they found that Arthur was easy to like and soon realized that they had found a leader worth fighting for. Even Lancelot, the arrogant and most thoughtless of the lads, respected him.

Only prideful Arelenne resisted, forcing herself to turn a blind eye to whatever good Arthur did. She maintained her bias and sought to bend the ear of her fellows, ever searching for a chance to make good her wager.

Arthur was in many ways her opposite modest while he blustered, allowing himself to be ridiculed if it meant saving another from harm. The knight did not understand it, and as such did not trust it.

No man could truly be so pure of heart, and certainly no Roman. Arthur had an ulterior motive Arelenne was sure of this.

Her mind raced as she donned her armor on the third and final day of her wager, the large breastplate banging against her torso. She knew she had been made the lesser man by Arthur's actions, and her time was running out. The man had obviously no intention of resigning his commission, no matter all the effort Arelenne took to alternately humiliate him or hurt him in front of the knights.

One morning he had filled Arthur's boots with fiery ants whilst he slept, but the man simply shook them out when he woke. He had been bitten by some and manfully bore the little hurt, and Arelenne did not miss the glares she received from Percival and Galahad.

The same afternoon she had "accidentally" trod her huge horse in a large puddle of mud, splashing all who rode beside her. She had succeeded in soaking Arthur in the filth, though the knights who were wet alongside of him were none too pleased. Arthur, on the other hand, simply took off his helm and dried his hair as best he could. "No harm done," he had said mildly, and had the gall to ruffle Arelenne's blonde head.

The third and final trick at midnight had been her most desperate yet. Arthur had gone to the bathing tent with his washbasin, and Arelenne saw her chance. She took three of the knights' horses and brought them just outside the tent, luring them with lumps of sugar that he had stolen. They sniffed and whuffed happily, chewing on the treats.

And then he had set their tails on fire.

The resulting stampede had torn down the small tent, awoken all the knights to the commotion, and had Arthur running for his life in aught but his pants.

Arelenne had thought she had broken him then, but she realized her mistake when she saw the horses turn and come stampeding for her. Arthur had turned from his path away when he realized he was heading opposite the well, and as such doubled back towards Arelenne. The horses followed him of course, and the commander yelled at the youth to run.

Faced with three fully grown horses (not to mention the sight of a half-naked man), Arelenne had stood frozen to the spot. Arthur had had to grab her by her collar and drag her behind as they ran, and had most likely saved her life.

When they reached the well, the other knights had already been running behind them with buckets of water, and they doused the horses with it to cool them down. Unfortunately, it also splashed unto both Arthur and Lancelot, and they were both left shivering in the freezing air.

Dagonet came to drape a cloak about Arthur's shoulders and he glared at Arelenne as he did so. Gawain, Tristan, and Galahad who were the owners of the horses likewise glared fiercely at her; their steads neighing in pain and fear.

Even Bors looked disgusted.

"How could you be so thoughtless?" asked Percival as he passed her, running to catch up with Arthur. "He could've been killed."

Lancelot had not answered, but she caught Arthur's eye as they walked past her. It was not filled with anger or resent as she thought, but rather with sadness and a vague disappointment.

Somehow it made her feel even worse, and strengthened her resolve to be rid of him tenfold. She could not stand to be under allegiance to any man, much less one that actually deserved it!

Shaking her head from her thoughts, she grabbed Gawain as he passed her, gloved hands clamping vice liked on the other's forearm. "We need to talk," she hissed.

The other lad looked at her with mild annoyance. "About what?" he asked, bending to tighten his boot laces.

"About Arthur," whispered Arelenne fiercely. "We cannot let him win this wager I should die before seeing this man as my captain for fifteen years hence!"

Gawain sighed. "You have damaged my horse and made a fool out of yourself so many times already," he said. "I care not for your petty wager, and it makes no difference besides. We fulfill the years the Romans have asked of us and Arthur seems bearable enough at least."

"Two days ago you were rallying with me!" cried Arelenne. "How can you say this now?"

"Two days ago I did not yet know him," replied Gawain. "I am forced to think more clearly now that he has made his point we must spend fifteen years in Rome's service, and whether we spend it miserably is entirely up to us."

Arelenne was unimpressed. "So you won't help me?" she asked.

Gawain shrugged. "I don't think so, no," he said, and went off to gather his horse.

Arelenne rounded upon the other knights threatening, cajoling, wheedling but found none among them willing to help. Bedivere, Kay, Hector, Tristan all had shaken their heads.

Bors, who had been his staunchest ally previously, likewise declined. "He's as silver tongued as they come," he had explained. "Seems like a decent sort, actually."

And so Lancelot had sworn and stamped her foot, swearing that they would all be sorry once her plot had been realized.

It was only at noon that they realized she had gone missing, for no one thought to inquire after her, as irked as they were. Only Arthur, sharp as ever, had seen fit to count her gone amongst his twenty four knights, and looked for her.

"She is sulking," offered Tristan. "You should let her be for he will return by suppertime of that I am certain."

But Arelenne did not return by suppertime, and Arthur declared that he would go out to look for her. The other knights, knowing that it would most likely be another of Arelenne's's idiot games, wanted no part of it.

"Leave her," said Gawain. "She is not worth your trouble."

But Arthur frowned. "She is your kin and my knight," he said. "I would not leave her when she might need aid anymore than I would any of you."

He turned then to the rest of them. "Will no one go with me?" he asked.

The knights looked down at their feet and did not meet his eyes, and when Percival saw this he raised his hand. "I shall go, my lord," he said and Tristan beside him laid a hand on his arm.

"We both shall," he corrected.