To all who read and especially those of you who took a moment out of your busy schedules to let me know what you think of my story, I say THANK YOU! This chapter is much longer than it was originally, but I had a dream... (to borrow a famous line) and in it I decided that Sarah's father would be a former knight. I hope you like this... let me know!
Disclaimer: Again, I iterate that I do not own the legend of King Arthur and lay no claims to the depiction of said legend by either the writer, David Franzoni; the director, Antoine Fuqua; nor the producer, Jerry Bruckheimer. I wish I could lay some claim, even if only a very minute part, but I can't, so please don't take offense if you do own any of the above. I only write for my own entertainment and as a way to show gratitude for such a wonderful story of a time in history that is not as romantic as we want to think.
Sarah walked into the hut she had grown up in and found most everything the way it had been before she left. The one thing that stood out as different was the weapons either leaning against or hanging from one wall. Her father had never kept more than a hunting knife and bow and the various swords and knives she saw upset her. She knew her mother would have been very unhappy at the situation, but sensing that Timothy had reverted somewhat back to the brother she remembered, she was reluctant to say anything negative.
As she watched him, she saw that the first thing he did was put away the sword he'd been carrying since she arrived. Then, pouring himself some wine, he offered a cup to her. She took it and thanked him, sipping some of the pungent liquid. Once he had downed the first cup and poured another, he came over to the table to sit across from her. She saw him looking at her quizzically and she wondered what was going through his mind. After several minutes, she began to feel a little uncomfortable at the scrutiny. But instead of dropping her gaze, she stared back. Finally, with a sigh, he said, "How did you make it all the way to Hadrian's Wall? I feared you had perished the first day."
She almost lied and told him it hadn't been that hard, but she knew he wouldn't believe her, so instead she told him the truth. How she had almost been too weak to walk any more when the wall finally came into sight. How she had been starving and filthy. And finally, how Vanora had given her a job when she healed enough, so she could earn enough money to return home. She even told him about her relationship with Gawain, how she had left the wall heading home and the knights prodded on by Gawain, had followed and saved her from the Woads. How he had been injured saving her and while nursing him back to health, she had fallen in love. She hadn't realized how long she had been talking without being interrupted until she finished her story and looked into his eyes.
She saw anger and resentment and it startled her. "Timothy, why does my tale make you so angry? Are you not happy that I was rescued and brought back to find you?" He quickly tried to hide his emotions, but she had already seen. After a moment he stood up so quickly he knocked the chair over. He stood there just looking at her and ran his hand through his hair in what appeared to be frustration. "Sarah, I thought I had lost everything. I lost our parents, my wife and my unborn son. I thought I had lost the sister I cherished only to find that she had been well and happy whilst I sat here and slowly drove myself crazy wondering what I could have done to protect the people I cared for most in the world." His anguish came through in his voice and she slowly stood up and walked around the small table to stand directly in front of him.
"You blame me for your unhappiness? How could I be to blame for something I couldn't help? While you were sitting here playing warrior with your friends, I was in a strange place. Surrounded by strange people. The relationships I forged during my time away were not easy. I was afraid to trust anyone. All I did was work and dream of the day I could come back and resume the life I thought I had. No one could have been more shocked to realize that the life I had back here was only a shell of the life I truly wanted." The sadness that her words brought upon her heart was reflected in the tears that welled up in her eyes. "Can you tell me what I've done that is so wrong? What I've done to make you so bitter that you would allow me to be treated the way I've been since I arrived?"
She wanted him to put his arms around her and comfort her in the way only he, her blood, could. But his stance spoke of uncertainty and suspicion, so instead she turned to walk away. His movement stopped her and she looked back to find him standing directly behind her with his arms about to encircle her in the hug she so desperately needed. As her brother hugged her close, she let the tears fall. Tears for her parents. Tears for her sister-in-law and the nephew she would never know. But mostly, tears for the brother, who in his loss, had turned to a crazed madman as his guide back into the world of the living. "Timothy, come back to the wall with us. You can start a new life and we can be together as a family again. The people there will welcome you. They are good people."
He looked at her face and saw the pleading in her eyes. How he wished he could do as she asked. But he knew only too well what Derek would do if he tried. They would all die for his betrayal and more than anything, he wanted to keep his promise to the knight. He wanted to keep his sister safe so she could move forward and forget all the heartbreak this village held. "I'll think on it." He lied to her. And he saw that she knew he was lying. He expected her to begin her pleading anew, but astonishingly, she only nodded as she pulled out of his hug. He watched as she went back to her place at the table and as she sat down, he reached behind him and pulled his chair back up. He sat down and poured another cup of wine, offering her some. She shook her head, "I've never really had a taste for wine. And working long hours serving it to a bunch of drunken men hasn't made it more appealing."
He caught the nervousness in her laugh and saw that she was trying to pretend that all would be well for him. If only that were so. He would leave the wine alone and plan for the life she offered at 'her' wall. He decided to go along with her pretense, for right now he enjoyed pretending that things were not as bad as they really were. The siblings spent a long time just sitting at the table remembering times that were happier, more carefree. Timothy was in the middle of telling her that their father had been increasingly worried just before the attack, and that he had started watching everyone around them with a look of suspicion. He stopped talking in mid-sentence and she raised her head to see why he had stopped. The pensive look he was giving her troubled her for a moment. But the question caught her totally by surprise.
"Do you know where Father came from?" he asked her. She slowly shook her head before answering, "No, I knew he came from somewhere other than Britain, but he never said where when he told me stories of how different things were in other places. I always thought he just used those stories to entertain me. Where did he come from?"
"I actually found it rather poetic that of all the men in Britain you should fall in love with a Sarmatian knight." His answer seemed to be a change of subject, but she was too intrigued by his statement to protest at the change. She just looked at him questioningly as he began to continue, "Father always told me that you got more of his blood than you did Mother's and I got more of her British blood. That's why he told you those stories more than me. Sarah, Father was a knight many years ago. A knight that was brought here from the lands across the great sea. A Sarmatian knight."
His words took a moment to settle into her brain, but finally she opened her mouth to argue, but found no words forthcoming. She was shaking her head, trying to figure out why he would make up such a story when he started telling her the story of how her father had been fighting for Rome when he met their mother. "He told me that she was such a beauty that he couldn't help but fall in love. She was fierce in her loyalty to her people and they argued about his 'duty' to the Roman Empire. He finally promised that he would forget all that he had learned from the Romans about Britain if she would agree to be his wife after his service was done." He hesitated for only a moment, but in that time Sarah found her voice.
"Why did they never tell me that story?" she quietly asked her brother. "All the times he told me the stories of his travels, he never once mentioned Sarmatia. Why?" Timothy reached across the table and placed his hand over hers, "Because he promised. He only told me because he wanted me to have some pride in the people that gave me half my heritage. Sons are supposed to be the ones who carry on the legacy of the father, but in this case I think he was disappointed. You would have made a better son, I think." She started to interrupt him and he help up his hand to stop her, "He never outright said so. I could just tell by his actions. He was not ashamed by anything he had done as a warrior for Rome, but he told me once that because of that service, he had lost many precious years. That's why he was so devoted to Mother and why he was so suspicious toward the end. I think he mistrusted Derek." He pulled his hand away from hers and she saw him wrestling with his own thoughts as he became quiet.
"As you do now?" She whispered. Timothy looked up quickly from the table where he had been tracing the pattern in the wood. With a loud sigh he agreed, "Yes, as I do now. But things have gone on for too long for me to just stand against him. I wouldn't last a full breath should I decide to try." This time she reached across the small table and took his hand loosely in hers, "Arthur and the others would stand behind you if only you would give them a chance. Timothy, Derek has lost the ability to reason. He's too full of his own importance and the feeling of power he has, has only added to the problem. The look in his eyes frightens me. I don't think he cares what has to be done as long as he can keep that power."
The sound of the door crashing open startled them and Timothy jumped back to grab his sword from the wall. The sound of Derek's voice, talking too loud in this small hut, grated on his nerves and he wished for the courage to run him through. If he had known what was about to happen, he would have done so, and been glad of his actions. Instead, he left the sword where it hung and greeted the man as he staggered into their home.
"Ah, I see my bride has learned to obey my commands." He said haughtily as he roughly ran his hands over her head and down to her neck. Sarah wanted to knock him away from her, but worried that Timothy would try to help her if she fought, she just sat still, with her eyes closed and hoped he would give up if she didn't respond to his goading. When he reached down to roughly take a breast in each hand, squeezing hard enough to bring a cry from her mouth, Timothy finally spoke, "Derek, I think you should go home and sleep off the wine. You cannot treat my sister this way in front of me and expect me to just do nothing."
Sarah looked up to see her brother edging his way to the wall of weapons and worried that in his drunken state, Derek would do something rash. Pleading with him with her eyes, she said, "Timothy, come sit. We can include Derek in our musings." Then she turned her head up to the man standing behind her, "Come, sit with us and remember the days when we were young and foolish. When the only worry we had was what our mothers would say when we came home soaked and dirty from our forays into the woods." She hoped her lighthearted tone would give them both reason to pause their actions and maybe remember some of the happier times she had mentioned. Instead, Derek, gave one final squeeze, then pulled his hands away as he said, "Is it not permitted for me to touch the woman I am to wed when she willingly lets another do so?"
Timothy had followed his lead for so long without balking, Derek expected the same this time. He stood leisurely by the table, looking at Sarah the whole time. "I would be a stupid, stupid man to think she has traveled so far with her 'friends' and kept herself pure just for me. One thing I am not, is a stupid man." The slap he gave her caught her so by surprise that she didn't have time to try to stop him. The pain he caused her brought tears to her eyes as she brought her hand up to touch the tender flesh on her cheek. Derek's actions must have caught Timothy off guard as well, for he stood there with his mouth open looking from the man who hit her, to her face, still cradled in her hand.
Suddenly, her brother lunged at the other man, knocking him to the hard floor. As they struggled for dominance, Sarah ran to the wall and grabbed the first weapon she could. It happened to be sword her brother had placed there earlier. When she ran up to the two men, she couldn't get close enough to use the dagger on Derek for fear she'd hit Timothy by mistake. As she tried to find an opening in the fight, she saw Timothy suddenly go limp as Derek hit him with the hilt of a dagger he had pulled from his clothes. She dropped the blade and rushed forward to help her brother. "Like I said, I am not a stupid man. I somehow knew she would bewitch you into betraying me." He shook his head in disappointment, "Just like she turned her father against me before she left." He gave Sarah a disgusted look, then grabbed her by the hair to pull her up from her brother's prone form.
"Come, my beautiful whore. William, take this traitor to the huts our 'guests' are staying in. I will deal with him later." As he spoke, he was pulling her toward the door, jerking with such force that she lost her footing and fell to the ground. He never slowed his progress as he drug her by her hair across the dusty ground. She was too surprised at this new turn to even feel the scrapes the hard earth was causing any exposed skin that came into contact with it.