Disclaimer: I do not own any of the character names, save my own original creations. I do not wish to be compensated for this work, nor do I wish to infringe on any copyrights held by any stakeholders of the movie King Arthur. This work is an original creation, based on the legend of King Arthur and his knights.


Scribe Notes:

Sokorra Lewis: He is tough to get right, I hope I can give him some softness. I noticed in the book too that the author gave him more verbal development. I wasn't sure I liked it, but then I found the book very difficult to read. Thank you for your continued support and words! i am very much looking forward to Fantastic Four. Yumm.. Ioan with grey haired temples. Oh oh.. I may have just dated myself...

Ailis-70: Good introspection. I have not yet figured out how to reconcile him, working on it. Your idea fits with one bit I am working on. We will see which wins when I re-read. And yes, you will see more of Jols in the future. He is very fond of our Cerys. Thank you again! I always enjoy your reviews and words of encouragement.

Burnt Alice: And your words inspire me to keep working!

History2: You get me.

I am so happy you liked chapter 19, I worked quite hard on that one to get the "fluidity" of it right. I liken it to a sports team who play and practice together so much that they can anticipate each others moves and thoughts. It is sad when you think about the skill in this "sport" is killing, but that was what happened then. Very brutal and ugly times.

You also think the same way I do about the final battle scene with one additional thoughtfrom me. I believe that Lancelot was intending to make up for his previous instinct ot leave her and the boy behind, as he mentioned to Guinevere when they camped. He wanted to redeem himself by saving her then! He was choosing to fight as a free man, and thus, his choice meant that he was perhaps turning over a new leaf? I was quite sad when he died. It was necessary for the story to end as it did, but... gah.

And our knights are coming home. I hope I do not disappoint in the much anticipated reunion!

Calliann: Thank you! I am very happy you enjoyed the story thus far. I am enjoying it as well, this creative process is bringing me much happiness. I race home at the end of the day and want to write. It has been a long time since that has happened. i am very glad you liked the dance chapter, it is one of my favorites.


Chapter 21: News to Crow About

"Nimli! Where are the tongs? I can't find the damned tongs..."

Nimli walked over to where Cerys was rummaging through a bag of kitchen tools, searching for the elusive tongs. Nimli stilled her hands, reached in, and pulled them out.

"Thank you." Cerys huffed, turning back to the ovens and flipping hair out of her face, tongs grasped in her right hand.

Despite the cold, the kitchens were warm as the women worked on boiling and salting meat for winter. They would wrap the cuts well, and put them into a walled hole where the meat would cure and provide a good dry snack for mid day meals come the deep of winter. It was the easiest way to keep it from going bad, and having to slaughter large animals in the cold. That was not a fun task in any way. No one liked having blood freeze in a cow before it was bled, and having to warm it up inside, where the smell would make even strong men gag. Cerys hated the smell on a good warm day, so to her, this was an enjoyable task.

The women worked away with idle chatter and laughter. Cerys slowly transferring boiled meat into the salt trays, Nimli rolling them in the salt, then plunging them into a light brine to cure and cool. Hissing sounds of meat boiling and then cooling punctuated each movement the wom­en made as they moved through their tasks.

Brinn wandered into the kitchens and stole a piece of freshly boiled meat from Nimli, who winked and ruffled his hair. He tore chunks off with his teeth as he watched Cerys struggle to lift a large pot with one hand, her left still lightly bandaged and not quite able to withstand pres­sure yet. Nimli, turned away, did not see her drop it twice, each time the side slipping from her grasp to land on the ground. Brinn did not help her, but seemed to want to have her do it on her own. She would have gotten mad if he had tried to help her anyways.

"Cerys, should you be doing that?" Nimli admonished as she turned and saw Cerys' struggle. She took the pot and gave her a hard look.

Cerys handed the pot off without word and looked frustrated. Brinn tugged at her sleeve. She looked over and smiled despite her seeming foul mood.

"Well hello! What are you doing in here? Stealing more food?" She swiped at his ear and he ducked, laughing.

"Come for a walk, I am done my chores." He said, pulling again at her sleeve.

She yelled that she was leaving, grabbing her cloak from the pegs by the door. Nimli waved a hand to indicate she had heard her. Rank did have its privileges to shirk duties, Cerys thought as she walked out into the colder air. Funny, how only recently she would not have stopped her tasks to walk, and rest. This new Cerys was different, and she wasn't quite sure if she liked it yet or not.

She wanted to be useful, and to her, useful was maximizing the time she spent getting jobs done. However, the forced rest had been quite lovely, and she was beginning to enjoy it.

Snow was beginning to swirl about in the air. She wrapped her cloak up around her shoulders and hooked her arm in her young companions. It was nice to be able to take the time to spend with him just this moment. She had been trying not to think too hard these past few days, but the repetitive tasks had made it all the harder.

The knights had been gone well over a month now, with no word. Every day, she expected to hear them pound in through the gates, the usual excitement of their homecoming. Despite her new calmness, she still stood on the battlements from sunset until dark each night, waiting.

"Do you think they will be home soon?" Brinn asked as they mounted the steps to the top of the wall.

Cerys shrugged and looked out over the landscape. She could make out the road, a muddy strip bordered by snow, horses and men travelling along its length churning the wet and earth togeth­er. She felt sad at that point. If they were gone much longer, they would miss winter solstice.

"I don't know Brinn. I would wish for them to be home now." Oh how she wished every night as she stared out over these walls. For even just a message, news.

He stopped and they looked south together. A crow in a tree made his complaints clear to the air, his voice carrying in the crispness. She watched as he hopped from branch to branch, fluff­ing his feathers out each time. She thought of how Tristan would sit and watch that bird if he was there and she knew that by its actions, it would be a warmer night tonight. Otherwise he would be nested in a crook, quiet and preening to coat his feathers with oil from his skin, to stay warm. Crows were such smart birds, Cerys thought suddenly.

She pointed to the bird, and explained the behaviour to Brinn, who nodded and turned his head to watch the crow. They both laughed at the crow's antics, and Brinn said he thought the shiny black feathers reminded him of Lancelot's riding armour; the black-hammered shoulder plates gleaming after Brinn would polish them.

Cerys, thought to herself that it reminded her of Arthur's black hair, shiny and soft after a trip to the baths. She dropped her gaze to Brinn, still watching the crow. He would have that same black shiny hair, although straight as a pin. He was already imitating some of the knights with braids to keep it held back from his face. The style suited him. A lock falling out of his braids and into his face reminded her also of a young Perceval, before he learned to tame his thick brown hair. She refrained from brushing it out of his eyes, not wanting to embarrass him. In­stead, she gave his arm a squeeze, and smiled as he looked quickly to her.

Cerys thought she heard hoof beats to her right. She turned the other way, and Brinn broke her grasp and he too looked further down the wall, along the main road. He leaned out over the wall to peer into the twilight, squinting to see further.

"Hoofbeats?"

He nodded. She had heard hoofbeats! Her heart leapt for just a moment, but stilled as one rider came into focus, galloping towards the gate. A messenger? Perhaps he had news of the men!

He seemed in a hurry, riding madly, earth clods flying up from the horse's hooves, confirming her notion more. Cerys ran along the top of the battlements towards the doors to the fortress, Brinn beside her.

"Open the gates! Rider approaching!" She screamed to the guards standing just beyond them. They swung into action and pulled the levers that would open the doors.

The horse and rider streamed in past them. From the top of the wall, she watched him expertly dodge his way along to the inner compound doors, then slide to a stop once inside.

Cerys reached horse and rider as they dismounted.

"Rider! What news?" She yelled as she lifted her skirts to run. Her thoughts were a jumble. She heard more footsteps behind her, and Guinevere was now running up behind her, her own skirts held high to gain speed towards their new arrival. Word travels fast here, Cerys thought.

"Brinn, please see to this man's horse." Guinevere gasped as she too reached the grouping, the running bringing her breath short. Brinn grasped the puffing horse and began the slow walk to the stables. The horse would need considerable cooling before he could be watered or fed. Cerys made mental note to leave her door unlocked from him in case he was late home.

The man unwrapped the cloth around his head and Cerys recognized Ganis. Ganis! Sweet Ganis! Oh Gods be praised! The men were close and coming home! Her knights, her Lancelot would be here soon! She must not cry, she must not lose her grip on her emotions...

She lost her composure completely.

"Ganis!" She shrieked and wrapped her arms about him. He glanced to Guinevere with a startled look, and she shrugged, a wide smile lighting her face. He carefully wrapped his arms about her, giving her a quick squeeze.

"M'lady, if all women were t'greet me likeways, I should 'fink I would do well to leave more often." He said as she detached herself and smoothed out her cloak again.

My goodness, what had come over her? she blushed slightly and cleared her throat.

Cerys smiled. "Come, you must be cold and hungry. Let's go to the kitchens. What news? Please Gods tell me our men are on their way home!"

They walked quickly, Ganis filling her in on the adventure of getting to the Caer and finding the place desolate, then marching to rescue Octus in his own home. Guinevere shook her head as Ganis told them how Arthur made the decision to have all of the men from Octuse's army join them at the fortress for the winter.

"My husband is going to pack this place full if we let him." She shook her head. "But it is so like him to not leave a man behind." Cerys made noise to agree with her. That man and his hon­our, she chuckled to herself.

The kitchen girls all crowded around Ganis as he sat and drank deeply from a ladel of water and then tore into a piece of boiled meat. They peppered him with questions, each asking after a dif­ferent man. The dark-haired girl that had been Galahad's fancy of late hung back, biting her lip. Cerys motioned her forward.

"You want to ask after Galahad?" She asked quietly as the girl reached her side.

"Yes m'lady."

"Please, call me Cerys. I don't know if I have ever heard your name."

"They call me Dory." She said quietly, looking to the floor.

"Ganis?" She raised her voice into the fray. He looked up and the crowd silenced.

"How fare our knights?" She said, her eyes meeting his. She was afraid to ask this question, but for the sake of her women, and now Dory, she thought it best to get it out of the way. All eyes turned to him, and the crowd held breath. Boiling pots and popping wood were the only sounds for a few heartbeats as they waited for his response.

"All fine. Galahad was injured by an axe throw, but 'es recovered enough t'ride."

Cerys could feel Dory relax beside her, and she too felt relief flooding everyone as the tension eased again. She smiled to the girl, who blinked back tears, turned and left. The other women nodded and they slowly returned to their tasks. Ganis ducked kisses and pinched cheeks for a few moments more before he was let to eat and drink in peace.

Lorina arrived and she too sat, and the now smaller group heard the story anew for her ears. She seemed very relieved that Bors was well with only minor wounds.

"I suppose he has a fresh new batch of scars for me to count." She laughed. "My lover..." and she sobered, covering her hand with her mouth, elbows resting on the table, her eyes closed at her relief. Cerys sat beside her, an arm going around her shoulders.

"I think we are all glad for the news." Guinevere said suddenly, rising from her seat. She walked behind a stack of barrels, and pulled out a flask. Nimli brought cups, and they all toasted quietly and talked for a few moments.

"How much time before they arrive?" Cerys asked, pulling out a tally stick. They would need to clear out the old barracks and transfer some of the stores out into the second storeroom for seventy men to have beds to sleep. How would they find that many beds? She looked to another tally stick as Ganis watched her with interest.

"A day. I was bid ride hard t'get here and give you time t'fix lodgin's."

Cerys, nodded. "How many horses?"

He thought a moment. "Maybe five."

Guinevere's face showed confusion and she looked to Lorina, who furrowed her brow.

"Only five, for seventy men?" Guinevere asked, pouring Ganises cup full again.

"There were no food, and they had t'feed the men somehow." He said soberly, looking into his cup. The women sat silently at that, each understanding how hard that would be for any man to do. Needs must, so they say, Cerys thought grimly.

She got up from her seat, her mind a whirl with tasks to do. She would need to find quarters for Octus and his family, and bring up more flour. Wine... how many casks did they have? She pulled out another tally and counted notches. Damn, not many. It would have to be rationed, and watered down this winter. She made yet another mental note on top of the many already there to spirit away a few flasks for herself and the knights to share when it became more water than wine. Someone asked her a question, and she made a noise to answer it, not looking up.

"Cerys?" a closer voice brought her out of her thoughts.

She blinked to Nimli holding her cloak. She had not realized she was close to the door, and smiled as she took it from the woman's outstretched arm.

'Thank you Nimli. I should go inform Hywel and the men that we will have a full house by to­morrow eve."

The women nodded from their seats in the kitchen, and Cerys raised the hood on her cloak over her hair as she stepped out into the darkness. Tomorrow her knights would be home! Tomorrow she would have her family about her again.

She laughed as she kicked up her heels and strode for the blacksmith shop to bring the good tid­ings to the men.

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

The next morning, Brinn found Cerys asleep over her tally sticks in the hall, her hand still around one, hair dishevelled and cloak spread out behind her on the cushions.

Brinn had come home late to find her not there, and being up all night himself, he went looking for her. The horse Ganis had brought in was winded for a full hour, so he had walked for most of the night to make sure it didn't seize its muscles. Some of the other stable hands had come in for morning shift before he was done with the poor beast. They had the gelding on strict watch, in case it colicked or seized yet. Ganis had ridden hard for quite a long distance to get to the fort in time to bring them news, it was a wonder he didn't lame the horse as well. Brinn had assumed that some soreness would come up inevitably, the horse's hooves were a brittle mass of cracks and chips.

Ganis was a good man, and Brinn was having a hard time staying mad about the treatment of the horse. He promised himself that he would never ride a horse that way, when he was a knight.

Brinn had finally wandered into the hall, looking for her. There she was, her face turned towards him, her eyes closed, her face peaceful. He smiled. She was so kind to him, and he was fortunate to be in her graces. He hoped someday that he could repay her.

Brinn was old for his twelve years. He had grown up quickly, being on his own, and for that felt he shouldn't rely on anyone. But, he had come to rely on Lancelot with a job, and now Cerys for his lodging. He had decided that once he was a knight, he would let them rely on him. He would take care of them.

He sat down next to her on the cushions. She was a light sleeper, and his movements would wake her soon enough. He was always awake before her in their rooms and it roused her the moment he stepped past his curtain to leave for the stables.

One trait that Brinn possessed was patience. It was what made him so valuable around the hors­es, especially Klyndd. So he sat, cross-legged beside her, and waited.

He knew she was too young to call mother, and he had known his mother, there was no replacing her. But, he had decided that he liked her well enough to think of her in that sense. In the same breath, he was quite sure he would slip someday and call Lancelot father. He had never known his father, and Lancelot was the closest thing to ever come to it, for him. The only other man in the fort he was close to was Jols, who would cuff him if he messed up, but also give him pats on the back when he did a good job, like an uncle or big brother. Lancelot always gave him nods and "Good job". Brinn loved him, and would have walked through fire for the knight, now that he has spent time serving him well.

As he sat and waited, his thoughts turned to how Cerys was friends with the knights. He knew she was Arthur's cousin, and that she had grown up with them. She had told him countless sto­ries of them when they were training, and their battles for Rome. How each had worked and earned their freedom and now fought for Britain. That made him happy. They were all from some far away place and yet, they stayed to help his people! That was very noble, and it made him very proud.

He wondered why she had never married any of them, and he often played a guessing game at who she would love, if she had, in his head. Usually he thought about Perceval, or perhaps Tris­tan. Maybe Gawain. Lately, he had thought it would be perfect if she married Lancelot. He mild­ly wished he was older and perhaps she would marry him, but if he was to become a knight, he would need to be free while he earned his reputation, then marry some girl who would love him for his honour and strength. So marriage to Cerys was not a good idea right now.

Cerys stirred and opened her eyes, a smile coming to her lips as she met his gaze.

"Good morning Brinn." She mumbled as she sat up and rubbed her eyes.

"Good morning."

Brinn helped her stand, and she looked about her as she blinked. "Did I sleep here all night?"

Brinn nodded as he gathered up her tallies. As he handed them to her, she stretched loudly and scratched her head with her fingers. A few smackings of her lips and she took the tallies from him.

"Thank you. My goodness I did not realize I was working so late."

"I was up all night too, walking the horse." He said as they wandered out of the hall into the early morning, he leading the way to the kitchens, where a young boy's stomach would always lead him after a long night.

The morning was dawning cool and crisp. There were some clouds coming along the horizon but they looked light. It would be a mild day, thought Cerys as she looked to the back of Brinn's head as he walked ahead of her. How nice that he had found her. Had he truly been up all night? She would see to him getting a sleep in before the men got home, he would be busy late with his squire's duties. Truly she felt stiff from sleeping so awkwardly, and she felt her back mus­cles complain from their treatment. How did the men sleep there? She supposed that anywhere was comfortable when you were drunk. Men...

Her head suddenly came clear and she remembered. Gods, so much left to do! The men were due today! She quickened her pace and stepped ahead of Brinn.

"Come on boy, let's get a bite and then get working! We have a lot to do today!" She smiled and pulled a braid in teasing.

Brinn groaned and trotted along behind her towards the kitchens.


Dear Reader:

If wishes were horses... our knights would gallop out of dreams and intofront yards, no?

Finally, some news! I wrote this as two chapters originally, but decided to combine them, due to the next chapter, which I won't spoil for you. I have put in a "break symbol" which I have tried before in previous chapters (Chapter Ten, between the scene in the hall and in Lancelot's room where he bangs his head), but the editor on this website keeps removing them. I hope that if it is removed that it is not confusing. Please tell me if so!

I hope you enjoy the next chapter, I know it is anticipated! Thank you, dear readers, for your enthusiasm. Your reviews and encouragement are wonderful fuel for my creative fires!

Cardeia