Chapter Eight:
Kelleigh stood beside Lancelot on the battlement, overlooking the lands to the north of the wall. The Saxon fires could be seen in the distance. The Saxons had made it to Hadrian's Wall. Arthur ran up the stairs of the battlement, Guinevere following him closely. They both looked flushed. Lancelot and Kelleigh shared a look of knowing. Arthur and Guinevere had tasted each other. Arthur looked at them before looking out over the wall to see the fires in the distance. Arthur looked around, going from one knight to the other, and then looked at the defenceless serfs that stood below him. Arthur then looked at Kelleigh and Lancelot, Guinevere in his peripheral line of vision. "Knights," Arthur said sadly, "my journey with you must end here. May God be with you," Kelleigh watched as Arthur inclined his head, and left. Kelleigh sighed. Beside her, Lancelot sighed heavily, looked at Guinevere, and followed Arthur down the stairs. Kelleigh and Guinevere went after him.
"Arthur," Lancelot said, rushing to get to his friend, "This is not Rome's fight," he said, "This is not your fight. All these long years we've been together, the trials we've faced, the blood we've shed…" Kelleigh and Guinevere stopped a short distance away from Lancelot and Arthur. "What was it all for if not for the reward of freedom?" Lancelot asked Arthur, "And now, when we are so close, when it is finally within our grasp—look at me!" Lancelot grabbed Arthur's arm and turned his friend to look at him. "Does it all count for nothing?" Lancelot asked, anguished. Kelleigh felt Lancelot's pain within her own heart, and looked at Guinevere, who wore an expression of satisfaction.
"You ask me that. You who know me best of all?" Arthur answered, looking at Lancelot. The two of them stared at each other. Arthur turned and began to walk away from Lancelot.
"Then do not do this!" Lancelot said, moving to intercept Arthur from the front, "Only certain death awaits you here," he said. "Arthur, I beg you! For our friendship's sake, I beg you—" Tears began to stream down Kelleigh's face as she watched Lancelot and Arthur. She watched as one of her best friends decided to stay and fight for a cause she didn't understand. The serfs around them seemed to disappear from the world, they were there, but they stayed silent.
Arthur put his hand on Lancelot's shoulder, cupping the base of his neck. "You be my friend now, and do not dissuade me," Arthur said, "Seize the freedom you have earned and live it for the both of us," Arthur looked back over his shoulder at Kelleigh, "Take care of her, Lancelot, for I cannot follow you. I know now that all the blood I have shed, all the lives I have taken have led me to this moment," Arthur cupped his hands around Lancelot's neck and then walked away. Lancelot tried to catch Arthur's hand in his, but it slipped from his grasp. Kelleigh fought to run after Arthur, to throw herself in his arms and beg him not to go.
Lancelot exhaled slowly, looking up at the sky. He then turned his head to look at Kelleigh and Guinevere. Kelleigh slowly made her way toward Lancelot and slipped her arms around him from behind, resting her chin on his shoulder. Lancelot sighed again, and leaned his head against hers. "Don't worry," Kelleigh whispered softly, "He knows what he's doing,"
"No," Lancelot said angrily. "He doesn't,"
"Lancelot, he's a grown man," Kelleigh argued. Lancelot sighed, removed her arms from his waist and walked off, frustrated at the fact that he could not get Arthur to seize his freedom with him. He wanted Arthur to be there when he finally took Kelleigh as his wife. He wanted Arthur to be there when Kelleigh grew old. He wanted Arthur to be the one to burn him.
Kelleigh sighed, brushing the tears away from her eyes. She looked back at Guinevere, who'd been listening to the entire conversation. "He'll die because of you," she said angrily, "He'll never know what freedom is because of you,"
"He is his own person," Guinevere answered in a heated tone, "I had nothing to do with this," she added. Kelleigh glared at her.
"You seduced him into staying to fight for a cause we can't begin to understand," Kelleigh snapped back. She turned on her heal and ran away, not looking back at the woman who took one of her best friends away.
Kelleigh stared out into the darkness that surrounded her, wishing that she could do something to change Arthur's mind, but knowing she could not. Britain wasn't his home. Rome was his home. He needed to be in Rome. He needed to change Rome.
Kelleigh sighed heavily, and walked into the stables. The knights stared at her. "He's stayin' isn't he?" Bors asked, looking into her red eyes. Kelleigh nodded her head sadly.
"He's going to fight for something beyond Rome's or our understanding," Kelleigh said, looking from knight to knight. Only four were in front of her. Tristan gave her a nod. She smiled at her knights, "You're free now, my brothers," Tears began to fall down her face, unchecked.
Galahad walked toward her and pulled her into a brotherly embrace. He pulled back and kissed her forehead. "If you ever have need of us, we'll come running," he said, speaking for the four of them. Kelleigh gave him a watery smile.
"If you get into trouble, I'll know where to find you," Kelleigh teased. Tristan put his hand on her shoulder when Galahad stepped back. He pulled out a small dagger with an exquisitely handcrafted handle.
"It's to protect yourself with," Tristan said, showing her the blade. He then turned it over and revealed the other side of the handle. He'd had her name carved into it.
"Oh, Tristan," Kelleigh whispered, looking at him with a shy smile and a look of amazement on her face. He handed the blade to her, along with a leather sheath that was made for her forearm alone. Tristan smiled and gave her a small hug. Gawain got up from his seat on the bench next to Bors and pulled away a blanket on a trunk next to him. He picked up a beautifully handcrafted sheath and handed it to Kelleigh.
"We wanted you to have a nice sheath for your nice sword," he said, referring to him, Galahad and Bors. Kelleigh gave them all a smile. She ran her fingers over the beautifully crafted leather, tracing the intricate designs of the Sarmatians. Kelleigh also noticed the Draco standard symbol on the sheath; a symbol that her knights had. Gawain hugged Kelleigh and pulled away, smiling. He moved aside for Bors.
Bors stood up from the bench and walked toward Kelleigh. He gave her a big smile. "It's been fifteen long years," he said, "But these last ten are the best of my life," he took her hands in his. "Thanks to your persistent nagging, we all turned out to be the men we are," he pulled her into an embrace that a father would give his daughter on her wedding day. "Take care of him, girl," Bors whispered in her ear. Kelleigh knew he was referring to Lancelot. Kelleigh pulled away and nodded her head at him.
"I will," she whispered back, and looked around her. "Take care of yourselves when you go home," she said, looking at their faces, memorizing each line as if she'd never see them again. "Thank you," she added.
"For you, we'd do anything," Galahad said, giving her a sad smile. The rest of the knights smiled sadly, and walked out into the night, intending to prepare for the journey that would take them home. Kelleigh felt her heart shatter. Sobs wracked her small body until she thought she had nothing left in herself to give. That was how Jols found her.
"Kelleigh?" Jols asked gently, touching her shoulder with his hand. Kelleigh looked up at him with teary eyes.
"Keep him alive, Jols," she answered, thinking of Arthur, "Protect him as you would me," Jols understood, and nodded his head. "Tell him," Kelleigh added, sniffing back her tears, "Tell my brother," she stood, fortifying herself. "I love him, I'll always love him," Again, Jols nodded.
"Anything else?" Jols asked, picking up the blanket Gawain had discarded earlier and placing it over the rail.
"Take care of yourself, Jols," Kelleigh whispered, giving him a kiss on the cheek and a quick hug. She pulled back, smiled softy and walked out into the darkness. Her heart was shattered, but only one person could make her whole. She needed Lancelot.
Lancelot lay on his bed, waiting for sleep to over take him. It never came. Lancelot sighed. He jumped slightly when he heard a soft knock on his door. Sitting up slowly, Lancelot straightened his appearance carefully. "Enter," he yelled. He was surprised to see Kelleigh's face peep into his room. "Kelleigh," Lancelot stared at her, "look," He sighed, "I just don't think Arthur—" Kelleigh lifted her fingers to Lancelot's lips to shut him up.
Lancelot didn't protest when Kelleigh sat beside him, lacing her fingers with his. She tilted his head with her free hand, and forced him to look at her. "You've every right to worry, Lancelot," she said softly, "What tomorrow brings, we cannot know," Suddenly, their heads were moving toward each other. Logic crumbled at Kelleigh's feet as their lips met. Lancelot's tongue slid hungrily over hers as he sought a release from the desire she set in his blood. He pulled Kelleigh to sit in his lap, while still tasting the endless fountain of her lips. Drunk from the taste of her lips, Lancelot deepened the kiss as he probed and explored the warm recesses of her mouth.
Kelleigh trembled, her breath short and tremulous. Her heart thudded against her ribcage as the essence of him reached her soul, speaking eloquently of his need. Lancelot stared at her for the longest time. His hand cupped her chin, tilting her head; his thumb leisurely caressing the delicate line of her jaw. Kelleigh stared back at him, her fingers working to loosen the ties that held his tunic together. With agile ease, Lancelot placed Kelleigh on his bed, and leaned over her.
"Are you sure?" he asked in a whisper, looking deeply into her eyes. Kelleigh looked up into his fathomless dark eyes and nodded her head. She knew what was to happen, and she wanted it; Gods help her, she wanted it.
Lancelot took the fastenings that held her dress in place and placed them on the floor beside the bed. He then slid the dress off her arms, revealing her creamy white breasts for his feasting eyes. He lifted her hips until he could easily slide the dress off the rest of her body, leaving her completely nude to his hungry eyes. He stared at her, dumbfounded. He'd never known that the lanky girl she had been had actually grown into a beautiful woman. He'd been with other women, but never had he seen a woman who looked so pure, so innocent.
Kelleigh looked at Lancelot, bringing her hand to his face, gently touching his stubbled cheek. He looked into her eyes. "Love me," she said. Lancelot could no more deny her that he could stop breathing.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered, removing his tunic. He ran his hands over her bare breasts, his eyes glowing with intense brown fire as her soft nipples rose and tightened into aching buds. The sensation was so intense, so exquisite, Kelleigh experienced a rapture she'd never known.
When Lancelot's lips surrounded the swollen tips, drawing them into his mouth, Kelleigh's throat convulsed; her breath came in short pants. The swirling torrent of fiery need grew intolerable when Lancelot bit down gently, kneading the other with his fingers gently. Kelleigh clutched helplessly at his back as he moved to repeat the same loving act on the other breast.
A deep sound welled in Lancelot's throat; an untamed sound resembling that of a wild animal as he rose up and tore off his constrictive pants. He then brought his bodies' weight down on Kelleigh with nimble ease. His naked flesh against hers brought a sigh of pleasure while her roaming hands delighted in the feel of his finely muscled body.
While his lips again sampled hers, Lancelot explored every feminine inch of Kelleigh's body. His straying fingers found the flesh of her inner thighs and he etched circles around the part of her that ached for his touch. Lingering on the mound of dark sable curls between her thighs, Lancelot succumbed to the devil's driving him as he sought the warm, tender folds of moist flesh. Kelleigh gasped as his finger delved deeply, probing relentlessly as she writhed beneath him. No man had ever touched her in such a manner, and Lancelot's invasion of her secret places left her mind reeling in shock.
Kelleigh stared in awe at the bold proof of Lancelot's desire. His magnificent masculinity sprang from the dark forest of his loins like a shaft of delicately carved marble on a base of pure onyx. Her thoughts then disintegrated as Lancelot kissed her again, his hands probing the softness between her thighs, gauging her readiness by the hot wetness of her woman's flesh. A soft uncertain cry escaped her lips as Kelleigh arched up to meet Lancelot's touch, "Lancelot!"
"Not yet, my love, but soon," he crooned against her lips, "I want to take this slow. We've hours to enjoy on another," In the glow of flickering candlelight, Kelleigh recognized the slumbering passion in his eyes, and wondered if he could see the desire that reflected in her own. Her half-formed thoughts scattered as, once again, Lancelot devoted himself the budding flower of her sexuality. Gently his fingers parted her pale, trembling thigh so that his fingers could continue their slow, sensual tribute to that tender, secret place. He kissed and suckled her breasts, nipped at her waist, circled her navel with his tongue, all the while driving her wild with his loving manipulation from below.
Suddenly, Kelleigh felt her body stiffen, and all of her senses came alive as she hovered over the brink of her first taste of sexual fulfillment. Lancelot felt Kelleigh tense and tremble, and realized that she was close to climax as she began to thrash side to side. Exultation and pride caused him to intensify his efforts as he whispered words of love in her ear. "Don't hold back, Kelleigh," he whispered.
Kelleigh heard, but was beyond reply as reality fled and need replaced every thought in her head. Nothing made sense except Lancelot's hands and lips driving her higher as she searched for a release from the exquisite torture he created in her. Suddenly, it came, sending her tumbling into a dark abyss. Lancelot's mouth swallowed the scream of rapture as it left her throat the moment rapture claimed her.
Lancelot groaned as his body tightened. "Let's take the journey together this time," he whispered, settling himself between Kelleigh's outstretched thighs. Lancelot slid full and deep into her welcoming softness, easing the throbbing of his maleness in the warm wetness of her body. Kelleigh tensed, feeling herself expanding and filling with him. Lancelot lifted her hips, driving deeper, and Kelleigh's eyes widened with shock and pain. She cried out, and tried to escape the torture being inflicted upon her. Lancelot mistook her response for passion, and he lunged strongly forward, burying his considerable length fully into her tight sheath.
Lancelot felt her maidenhead tear beneath his passionate onslaught at the same moment the scream of agony ripped from Kelleigh's throat. "Are you all right?" he asked, breathing hard, but looking deeply into her eyes, waiting for a response.
Kelleigh looked up at him, pain etched in the green orbs Lancelot saw. "I—I think so," she answered, clutching his shoulders for support.
"It's all right," Lancelot said, "I'll make it better," he added in a whisper, "I won't hurt you anymore," Stealing herself, Kelleigh waited for the pain to renew itself. When it did not, she allowed herself to relax, waiting for the pleasurable feelings to return.
Though it taxed his control beyond human endurance, Lancelot remained motionless for several minutes in order to allow Kelleigh time to become used to the size and feel of him inside her. He waited until the slight movement of her hips expressed her willingness to continue. This time, Lancelot slowly renewed the slow, seductive rhythm, Kelleigh responded eagerly, meeting him stroke for stroke. Her breathing grew laboured and her head thrashed wildly side to side as he worked, skilfully and patiently to drive them both over the edge, extracting every sensation and emotion that their union could provide.
Abruptly, tenderness and care yielded to fierce, driving passion as Lancelot's control fled. With each forceful thrust, Kelleigh's body began to pulsate with sweet, tormenting pleasure, until she was consumed by the unfamiliar sensations that rose from somewhere inside her.
Lancelot felt her body vibrate, and revelled in the knowledge that he was the first to initiate her in the act of love and bring her fulfilment. She arched, clawed at him, and cried out. The moment Kelleigh reached the pinnacle, Lancelot's restraint fled, and he buried himself deeply into her quivering flesh, her ecstasy triggering his own as he emptied himself into her body.
In the aftermath, Kelleigh lay nestled in Lancelot's arms, stroking his naked chest leisurely. Lancelot pulled the blanket up over their bodies, covering their nakedness before stroking her hair with his hand, and staring into space. "Will it always be like this?" Kelleigh asked, looking up at him with trusting eyes. She bent to kiss his chest.
"It will only get better," Lancelot answered, kissing her forehead when she looked up at him again, "For now, sleep. We've a long journey tomorrow," Kelleigh closed her eyes, laid her head on Lancelot's chest, and let sleep overtake her body. Lancelot lay there, wide awake, wondering what he was going to do, now that he'd spilled himself into the woman he wasn't sure he could protect in Sarmatia.