Briseis and Katrina were sitting at their corner table sipping their drinks when the tavern door blew open and two hooded figures emerged from the raging storm outside. Unlike the silence that followed Briseis and Katrina, no one seemed to bat an eye at these two figures. The drinking continued and the banter never swayed. Yet someone else had noticed them. Briseis put down her drink and pulled herself back into the shadows waiting for one of the cloaked men in particular to pull back his hood. Her breath held in her chest as the cloak was shaken off him. His dark curls bounced from side to side releasing the water that had gathered on them from the rain outside. His dark eyes were cast down, scanning the crowd with a piercing yet hooded gaze. Briseis crooked a small grin in the shadows as she studied him. This man who so captivated her attention was Sir Lancelot; second in command to the knights and Arthur's closest friend. His left arm was in a sling and had been for the past month. The knights had fought the Saxon army and it was during that battle that Lancelot had almost perished. The only wound left to heal was a laceration across his upper shoulder; the least of all his injuries received during the battle. It had been Briseis, or rather Court, who saved Lancelot on that forsaken day. Court who had ridden out of the mists and swung her blade high into the air coming down on Cyrnic. The blade slashed across his face yielding to instant fatality. It seemed like ages ago that she had saved him. Ages since she had first arrived in this village that would end up capturing her body and soul. Hadrian's Wall had become her haven and so had the men and women of the fort. Fortune found its way to her in the training of horses, fortune in that the head trainer Draven broke his leg in trying to break Calvo. He was going to have the beast destroyed but that's when Briseis stepped in and proved the horse could be handled. It was that same day that Katrina discovered the truth about Briseis. Katrina had wandered into the stables looking for Draven; he owed her father, Thomas, some money. While searching for Draven, she accidentally stumbled onto Court in the middle of a bath. Of course the door had been bared but Katrina knew where the spare key was hidden from the days when her father and her used to live in the barn loft. Briseis cornered Katrina and made her swear secrecy less she would lose her life. Although she would never have followed through with her threat of death, Katrina had not known this at the time. However their shared secret caused a friendship to form and Katrina had proved a worthy companion even if she did threaten her vow at times. Together they roamed the distant lands of Britain on horseback during a time where loneliness was and still is ever prevalent. They provided each other with company, with solace. Briseis was pulled from her thoughts when Katrina lightly touched her hand. They looked at each other and then Kat nodded in the direction of Lancelot. He was pestering Vanora for some ale and she was trying to tell him wait his turn like every other thirsty fiend in the tavern. He smiled that devious smile and then shook his head in defeat and looked down at his good hand resting on the bar. A pitcher appeared in front of him and before he could take it Vanora grasped his hand and whispered something to him. He frowned but seemed to comply with what she had said. Grasping the full pitcher of ale, he turned on his heals and strode over to Katrina and Briseis' table. She froze. 'Why was he walking towards our table?' 'And why did he have that cocky look on his face? He must not have seen me.' in truth Lancelot had not seen Briseis for she had drawn herself into the shadows. All he knew was that Vanora had promised him a free pitcher of ale if he delivered this pitcher to Katrina and her friend. He could not see anyone else say Katrina. Perhaps her friend had already left. Oh well. All he knew was that he was getting a free pitcher of ale. At this very thought he was cut short for Briseis had taken that moment to reappear into the light. Lancelot stopped in mid stride spilling some of the ale onto the wooden floor. Briseis caught his gaze and held it. Her eyes were unnerving to Lancelot and a shiver ran through him. She was undoubtedly the most beautiful creature he had ever seen but she was different. Her beauty was only partial to the way her eyes captured his soul. They penetrated deep within his heart and he felt that he could hide no secret from this person. He would die for her if the gods asked it of him. Briseis was shocked that he had held her gaze for so long. It frightened her to the core yet it was as welcoming and familiar as a rainy day. There seemed to be a storm raging behind his eyes, an ever-constant tempest that swirled grays and blues in one. She was lost at sea, lost in his eyes. Katrina took this moment to stand gracefully and brush past Lancelot.
"Go. Sit by her." She said in nothing more that a whisper while passing him.
Shaken from his trance Lancelot shifted his stance and walked over to her in what he hoped was a composed walk. 'Close you mouth you dolt. Stop acting as if you have never spoken to a beautiful woman before. You've never spoken to one that has made you feel this way Lancelot.' Oh how he wished he didn't have a conscious sometimes.