"Arthur." the knight said groggly at the sight of the Roman before him. "My turn already?"
"Yes my friend." Trading places Arthur slid to the ground a fell back against the tree.
Running his finger through his hair Lancelot looked to the tent in the distance. "You know I woke several times throughout the night and looked to the tent. Each time I woke I thought I was dreaming."
"Dreaming what my friend?" Arthur asked eyes closed.
"That the woman in the tent was Lillian. When I thought she was dead I would sleep at night thinking of her, not wanting to wake. But now, I feared falling asleep for the thought of waking and seeing her gone."
"I am trully sorry my friend." Arthur said opening his eyes to look at his friend. "I know how much you cared for her, how much you still do. I am sorry for what has happened. If that is Lillian, I pray that she remembers so that you may find the happiness with her that for so long you thought you lost."
"After 15 years of hell you still pray to your god. You must have some faith." Lancelot smiled.
"She was still awake when I left her, she may still be if you wish to talk to her." Arthur said. He saw the want in the knights eyes as he spoke.
"You talked to her?" Lancelot questioned knealing to his friend. "What did she say?" He asked.
"Nothing much. Dagonet was right, what ever they did to her they did well." Arthur revealed, seeing the anger for Saxons in Lancelots auburn eyes. "I asked her to come with us when we leave."
"Asked her? I thought you were going to make her come with us to Hadrians Wall?" Lancelot asked confusion struck his deep eyes.
"Forcing her to come with us will not make her trust us, or remember. If anything it will make her want to go back to them, or run." Arthur asked reasoning with the dark knight. "You need faith that she will make the right choice Lancelot."
Silence fell between the two men for some time before Lancelot broke it. "Rest Arthur." he said leaving the roman to embrace the peacefulness of sleep.
Walking away Lancelot made his way to the tent, reaching a hand out he took a deep breath before pulling it aside. Looking in he saw her asleep. The blood had been washed from her face when Dagonet had first tended to her wound revealing to him the woman he knew so long ago. He watched as her chest rose with every breath, breaths he thought she would never have. He blamed himself for whatever the Saxons had put her through and the guilt ate at him. 'How could I have given up so easily. Every day I drank to forget the longing I felt, years of bedding women in a vain effort to forget her and all this time she was alive. Alive and in Saxons hands. As I drank to forget her, she needed me most.' Taking on last look he let the flap fall into place, concealing her from his vision. The rest of the night he sat by a tree near the entrance of her tent waiting for the sun to rise and for her to emerge. With one hand he dug at the neck of his armor until he found what he had searched for. Looking down he looked at the white pendant. Fingering its markings he looked to the tent then to the stars. 'I will always love you Lancelot.' her voice echoed clearly in his mind. He could see her effortlessly in his mind. Her hair hung about her shoulders reaching to the middle of her back. Her armor and her twin swords. Swords he helped her to master. Her eyes blue as the sky. The love he saw behind them. How he wished for her to wake and to see it once more.
'Tell me again Lancelot.' her voice echoed.
'I have already told you.' he answered laughing as he held her close.
Pinning him down she looked into his eyes. 'I know but I want to hear it again.' she spoke. Bribing him with a kiss.
'You do not play fairly.' he answered.
'Alls fair in love and war Lancelot.' she said smiling. 'Please.' She added, pouting her lips.
'I love you Lillian.' he said smiling wrapping his arms tighter around her.
'And dont you forget it.' she replied playfully.
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She did not sleep much more that night. Thoughts of the choice she would make ravaged through her head. Whether she trusted the Roman or not she had to admit he was right. She knew what fate had instore for her if she returned to the Saxons and she was in no condition to travel alone. Night faded to dawn as the the woods became alive with the sound of birds welcoming the new day. She waiteduntil she heard the movement of the men before she walked out. She saw the small group packing their things and readying their horses. As soon as she was clear of the tent two of them began taking it down. The one with long red hair the other wore it short and dark. His face showed his youth. Others looked on as she walked amongst them. Before long she saw Arthur and he came forth.
"Good morning Kendra." He said with a slight bow of his head. "I trust you have come to a decision?"
"You and your men cannot save me from Cynric." she said softly so no others could hear. "But I stand a better chance with all of you then on my own. At least for now."
"Well thats a start. Lancelot!" He shouted. From behind her the man came holding the reigns of a horse. "This horse will bear you while you are with us."
"Arthur!" A man on horse back called out emerging from the trees. His hair was straight and hung passed his chin. On his face he bore markings of some kind. She recognized him as the one who had shot at her with the arrow.
"I am glad to hear you have decided to ride with us M'Lady." Lancelot said bringing her attention to him. She marveled at the deepness of his brown eyes as the pierced into the blue of hers. When he stretched his hand to hers she swore in his eyes she saw the same emotion of the others but, something else. Something hidden.
"I would have thought otherwise." she said taking the reigns from his outstretched hand. She paused for a moment when their hands met. She saw the look in his eyes. Uneasiness swept over her as she brought her hand from his. "Your name is Lancelot right?" she asked softly.
"Last time I checked." he answered her, giving her a sly grin.
"Knights, we ride." Arthurs commanding voice filled the air. Lancelot obeyed his command and turned to fetch his horse. She watched as he left and mounted his horse. A black steed with fire in his eyes. Turning back Lancelot felt her gaze and smiled warmly at her and nodded his head. Mounting the light colored horse she was given, fell in line behind Arthur and Lancelot. Beside her rode Dagonet. The one they called Tristan led the way with his hawk soaring through the morning sky.