Katemary77- I know it seems a little…skanky but I'm trying to go for slightly realistic. She doesn't want to fall in love with anyone or get married, but she's never known what its like to have a little fun. But don't worry cause I have it planned out (as you will see) that something happens and she changes a bit… She's still a virgin so I say what the hell!
Kungfuchick- Whats confusing? I'd like to clear it all up.
Nora17
-I'm so happy yall like it!
Mondieu666
Galina found them first. They laid several feet away from each other, but it was evident what had happened. My very nature made me observe everything about the scene and it was branded into my mind. I would remember that day and picture in my nightmares for the rest of my life. Lionel's grey horse was nudging and whickering at his master, who lay near a hut door, in what I imagined was a mournful cry. Lionel's glassy eyes stared at the sky as if he had escaped into it. There was a deep wound to his stomach and the side of his head was nearly crushed from an axe or mace. His sword was in his hand and I knew he had died defending Branwain. When I turned my eyes to my cousin with Galina sobbing by her and shrieking I felt something inside of me die. She was still alive, but it would not be for long. I slid off Kolaksay and I nearly stumbled. My entire body felt numb. Her clothes were ripped and disarrayed and I realized what had been done to her. I wondered why she had not screamed but then I saw her neck and I heard the most sorrowful, anguished sound I had ever heard in my life. I was subconsciously aware that I had made the sound as I kneeled next to Branwain. They had slit her throat before they had…I couldn't make my mind put the words together. Whoever had held the knife had made a sloppy attempt to kill her. The long, jagged rip that marred her throat was deep, but not deep enough to kill her immediately. We had been scouting for several hours, and only the gods knew how long she had lain like this. She was slowly bleeding to death through her throat and mouth. Her hazel eyes were clouded with pain. They seemed to bore threw me and suddenly my vision was blurry. Her eyes flicked to where Lionel's body lay and she let out a heartbroken mewl. She couldn't even cry properly and I felt as though I had been stabbed somewhere in my chest as I heard her pitiful gurgle. I couldn't breathe.
"Branwain!" Galina shrieked hysterically. Her voice was thick with crying. "Branwain! Don't leave me! I'll make you better! Branwain!"
Galahad was weeping and I saw tears stream down Dagonet and Bors' faces. Arthur had sank to his knees a few feet away. Branwain's pallid hand gripped my forearm fiercely as her eyes stared at me pitifully. She wanted me to end it. She had no honor, no love, no…Everything had been taken from her. She gurgled despairingly as she tried to say my name. So much blood. I moved my hand as if to cover her mouth, but I drew my hand back sharply. I couldn't. All those times I had killed men because I was ordered to and now when my cousin needed me to help her, I couldn't. I was choking and sobbing. Lancelot stormed over and covered her mouth and nose with his hand. He stroked her face and tried to calm her. I held her hand and kissed it. It came away wet with my tears. I didn't pay attention to what the other knights did. I didn't look at Galina or Lancelot or anyone. I could only watch my cousin's eyes fade away until I was left staring at her empty shell. It had begun to rain. Galina's screams became frantic as she tried to shake Branwain's shoulders. She reminded me of a child in denial.
"No! Branwain! No." She kept saying no and no and no. Her screams faded to a miserable keening noise as she rested her head on Branwain's chest. I crawled frantically away from the body. That wasn't my cousin. It couldn't be. No one, no one would do that to Branwain. She was good and sweet and I loved her. I flipped over and was violently sick. Tristan touched my shoulder but I flung myself away. No. Branwain. No.
I stood up and looked at the sky and I let out a roar or a scream or a wail. I couldn't tell what it was. I tried to breathe. No luck. I fell down and curled up. My world was fading to black. Galahad was about to rush to my side to help me but Dagonet held him back. Lancelot was holding Galina in a death grip to keep her from hurting herself. Just as the last of the color had faded from my vision, it stopped. I took a long ragged breath. I was so cold. I could breathe and see. But I couldn't feel. I couldn't feel anything but rage. It was the very beat of my heart. It boiled in my veins. It was what had returned me from my darkness. The world had never seemed so unfair. I closed my eyes and calmly felt my surroundings. It had been Saxons from the look of the single dead man Lionel had managed to kill. From the look of things it had happened in the last hour. They couldn't be far into the forest. Gawain quickly checked the inside of all the huts as Arthur rose to his feet.
"Dead. All of them." He said grimly.
"They ambushed them." Tristan said while casting a worried glance at me. I walked calmly towards my horse and grabbed Pata and a dagger. Galina rose and made for her open weapons, but I blocked her path. It was cruel to deny her vengeance, but I would not lose her too.
"No." I whispered in a deadly voice, but my anger was not at her. I turned to Arthur. "Do not let her out of your sight."
Something in my face must have alarmed him because he nodded without question. I began walking towards the forest.
"Isolde!" Gawain called out. I ignored him. My cousin was dead. It was time for a reckoning.
I strode through the forest like an animal. I knew by instinct where the Saxons were. They had scouted and wreaked havoc inside the island; now they would head back to the coast. Let them try. The forest was deathly quiet. Whether from the unnatural Saxons, or from my fury I knew not. I realized I was getting close. How long had I been gone? I began sprinting towards them. They heard me and began to run. The ten Saxons did not make it far.
When I returned several hours later, I found the knights still in the village. They were burying the dead villagers. They had wrapped Branwain and Lionel in a few blankets from the huts. The villagers had no need of them now. Galina was still sitting where we had found Branwain's body. The earth was still wet with blood. Her eyes were glazed over and I realized that I had lost Galina. Whatever far off place she traveled to sometimes to escape, it was now her home. I called her name and she did not answer. I felt empty. Empty people could not cry. The men stared at the blood and gore that covered me head to toe. I was torn between relishing my revenge or being disgusted with the foul blood of monsters that covered me. There was a small pond at the edge of the fields and I walked straight into it and sat down. It was freezing but I ignored it. My body felt numb already, what could the cold water do? I wanted to stop loving Galina. I wanted to never feel love again. I couldn't make myself not love her. I couldn't stop loving Galahad and Gawain. My love for Arthur, Tristan, Bors, Dagonet and Lancelot was undiminished. I wanted to protect them from everything. Arthur from his own heart, and the others from the world itself. Tristan and I had formed a special relationship once we had realized we had much in common, and I had a feeling there was more to his past than he let on. I wanted to keep him from being so reckless and uncaring at his own fate. Eventually Arthur came and picked me up out of the water. I held on to him like a small child. He and Galahad put me in a new tunic and I held Arthur's hand.
"I'm so sorry Isolde. Can you forgive me? I should have been there. I should have known." He said sadly and I almost smiled. Things that could barely be called men had raped and killed two of his knights, and he still blamed himself.
"Arthur, I won't let her die." I said simply and he nodded. I felt such sorrow for my beloved leader. What must his heart be like? I had not the strength to stand it when someone I loved died. Arthur had lost over half the men he commanded and yet he found the will to go on. I loved him and respected him more than I thought I ever could at that moment. Bitterness still tore at me at the unfairness of it. They were in love and happy and so young and…I was calm however. Arthur would give me his strength.
I woke up in the morning and we finished burying the bodies. We rode back to the Roman wall silently in honor of our dead. Galina's eyes were unfocused and they haunted me. I could barely look at her. I rode next to Tristan most of the trip, for he alone sent me no apprehensive looks. Tristan alone did not seem disturbed by my vicious revenge. I had no doubt they had all heard the screams from the forest. I didn't regret my actions at any moment. I would never regret it.
Galina stayed in her room for a week after the funeral. At night I held her as her blank eyes stared aimlessly. I woke up in the mornings and she was still awake. I rarely left her side during the day except to practice with my sword and when she used her seeds. One night I stepped out into the hall while she consoled herself with her seeds.
"She's endangering herself." Tristan said quietly as I quietly shut Galina's door. I looked at him trying to see where he was going with it.
"She's dead." I said. "Maybe she eats and breathes, but she's not the girl that left Sarmatia."
"Maybe so. Are you?" He asked pointedly. I thought about it.
"Don't know. I am what I am." I said and he nodded.
"Can she use a bow or a sword when she's like that?" He asked, but there was nothing harsh in his voice. He didn't want to me to be defensive.
"She knows when to hold off." I said firmly. He shrugged and said no more. I went to my room and laid down on my bed. I wondered if any of the other knights were out drinking or bedding women. I couldn't blame them if they were, but I still didn't understand it. I laid on my side, staring at the wall. I thought of my aunt and uncle. How could I face them and tell them that their daughter was dead and I was alive? Still, I did not cry. I couldn't sleep so I got up.
The cool night air hit me like a slap. I found myself at Branwain's grave, positioned next to Lionel's. I was ashamed to realize I had forgotten Lionel. My charming friend was gone forever. I kneeled in between their graves. A long time passed before I felt someone stand beside me. The quiet footsteps belong to Tristan. His silence had provided more comfort than any amount of talking from the other knights.
"Tristan, have you ever loved anyone?" I asked wearily. He stiffened and I realized I had probably offended him by insinuating that he was so aloof that he could not even love. He knelt next to me and stared straight ahead.
"My family." He said and I felt odd thinking of Tristan with a loving mother and father.
"Are they still waiting for you?" I asked. There was no knowing for sure if our families still had hope for us or not, but we could wish.
"No. They're dead." He said unflinchingly. I waited to see if he would expand on the subject. A few minutes later he spoke. "My younger brother died when I was twelve. My father and his wife were killed when I was seventeen."
"How?" I asked. I didn't care about bringing up painful memories. I didn't care about anything.
"We were nomads, we followed the old ways. We roamed the east mostly, but there were others there also. Easterners… They were always taking land and people. Almost like the Romans. One day my father's wife sent her son and I out to hunt. They caught us by surprise. He was only six. They rode through and burned our tents a few years later. Killed my father and her."
"And your mother?" I asked looking at him.
"She was lost when she gave birth. She died soon after my father found us." He said and there was no emotion to his story. I tilted my head thoughtfully. I had lost my cousin, but not my entire family. I nodded. I was sorry for his loss and he knew it. He put a hand on my shoulder and I was slightly alarmed at the touch. I needed comfort and he provided it. It still unnerved me how much he knew me. A few minutes later I stood up and went back to the fort, but he stayed and I wondered what old wounds I had opened up.
Days turned into weeks and I slowly slipped back into happiness. It was a second-rate happiness, but at least it wasn't constant sorrow. Galina smiled more often and Lancelot paid special attention to her in hopes of raising her spirits. She smiled for him, but she rarely ate and I saw the bright specks of blood when she coughed. For the next year she grew thinner than I thought possible and she was so fragile looking I could barely watch her. We held each other some nights, but talking to each other was too painful. We could only think of Branwain. And so we turned to the other knights for happiness. I loved Gawain and Galahad more than I could say, but I didn't kiss them anymore. Galahad had kissed me when he was drunk a few months after Branwain and Lionel's deaths, but we quickly put an end to it. It was no longer innocent. Arthur's strength and Lancelot's ready wit were irreplaceable. Bors and Dagonet were like fathers to me. Well…Bors was more of a dirty uncle… Tristan…Tristan was special. I felt like I knew him better than I knew myself.
"Vanora's angry at me again." Bors said as we rode out of the gates.
"By that do you mean she is occasionally not angry at you?" I asked charmingly. He chuckled.
"Well…She's not angry at night when we-"
"Lalalalalala-" Galahad sang, pretending he was trying to block out the sound of Bors' voice.
"Bors, we know what goes on at night. You have eleven children to prove it." Gawain said pleasantly.
"She's not pregnant again yet is she?" Tristan asked. His beloved hawk flew down to his arm and he petted her affectionately.
"I hope not." Bors said as if he couldn't be sure.
"Well that's it. I'm staying a virgin. Maybe I'll be priestess or something." I said brusquely. Eleven children and he acted like there could be more?
"Chastity?" Gawain asked alarmed.
"Pious? You?" Bors asked as if he thought the whole idea was absurd.
"Priestess to what I might ask? The god of war?" Lancelot asked amusedly. I shot him a grin.
"Perhaps." I said tauntingly. "You can be the sacrifice Galahad."
"Unlikely." He said stiffly.
"Well, not all religious duties call for virgins you know. The locals have their Beltane and if you wanted to get a head start…" Lancelot offered slyly.
"Beltane? Maybe I will start practicing!" I said and Lancelot had a short moment to look pleased with himself while Galina frowned. I thought of the most unlikely person… "How about it Tristan?"
"Wait-" Lancelot said annoyed.
"You can have all the practice you want." Tristan said staring straight ahead and Bors laughed, surprised that Tristan had played along. Dagonet smiled and shook his head. "We can start tonight."
"Sounds lovely." I said in mock excitement. Actually the idea didn't seem too bad. I hadn't been properly kissed since… I felt my spine stiffen and my face turn to stone. I wouldn't think about it. I concentrated on Kolaksay's strong legs and they pace that he walked at. Kolaksay's life was simple. He was a warhorse who enjoyed battle. He knew no sadness or fear. I willed myself to be like him. The knights kept talking but I remained silent.
I looked at the large Christian sanctuary. It was large and plain like a fortress. Why the Christian's decided to put a holy temple in the middle of nowhere by a forest I would never know… Strange people those Christians. And annoying too. We were to stay a few nights at the monastery and eliminate the local woad problem as they put it. I didn't know which side I would rather see triumph. A bunch of sniveling Christians or the woads who had been killing the unarmed holy men. We rode into the gateway and looked around. Men and women in simple but long tunics were scurrying everywhere. Three boys of about twelve came and took our horses.
"Father, I am Arthur Castus, sent from the wall." Arthur said as the best dressed of all the holy men stepped forward. He nodded somberly.
"The blue demons attack the men and women who farm our crops and any who wish to come and worship." The man with sparse yellow hair said calmly gesturing towards the small patch of farmland. For the most part, it seemed the monastery was self-sufficient. "I pray to God to bless whoever delivers us from the heathen threat."
I didn't know what was worse. Outright disgust at those who were not Christians, or this man's subtle mindset. The thought of supremacy was so inbred into his mind he didn't seem to notice that he had just completely disregard another people's culture. The Romans thought of my own people this way. Barbarians. Heathens. Pagans. Primitive tribes who were only useful for their skill with horses. There was so much more to us than that. We had a history richer than that of Rome. We encompassed an ocean of grass. Our gold was marvelously wrought and our people had known a freedom so great once. We had been feared by others for centuries. Our ways were different, not inferior. I may have lived to battle those such as the woads, but I would not dishonor them.
"Mador will show you to your rooms." The priest said as he beckoned a somberly clad boy forward. We followed the boy to the rooms we had been allotted. Galina and I would be sharing a room for our stay.
"Dinner is at six." The boy said and excused himself. I sat on the rather modest straw bed. It could be worse. Galina sat by our small window and let the sun warm her. I wondered how someone could look so peaceful and frenzied at the same time. I eventually left to go to the room that Tristan and Galahad shared. I could only imagine how that would turn out. They liked each other for sure, but they eventually grated on each others nerves. Galahad was laying down on his bed and I plopped myself right by him, ignoring his protests that I was not going to help him go to sleep.
"Why Galahad…Surely I'm not a distraction." I yawned. Galahad mumbled something and did everything in his power to make sure I was uncomfortable. I elbowed him in the ribs and smiled at his grunt. I laid down next to Tristan, whose face twitched annoyedly. He knew me well enough to realize it pained me to be alone with Galina and so he said nothing. I kept my distance from him out of respect.
"Isolde." I opened one eye and found Tristan peeking at me from underneath his ragged hair.
"You need a bath. The outdoors does nothing for your hygiene." I said.
"Later." He said and got up. Galahad was already gone. Galina knocked on the door. She was in her olive green dress. It made her hair look even more golden and I wondered if she was hoping to make Lancelot notice.
"When will you get a dress?" She asked with no malice. I looked down at my dark blue tunic.
"When you make me one." I said.
"Is that a promise?" She queried.
"Unless you make it painfully frilly." I swore. She smiled and I realized that I would soon have a dress. Tristan was already gone so we began our walk down to the hall where the holy men and women took their supper.
I was really sad when I wrote that…. It was necessary though. I hope yall don't hate me and my story now! Review?
