Author's Note: Ack. Okay, I've given up on trying to rewrite my dear chapter six. So, I'm trying something new. I'm not going with what I previously planned. I can make up for time later. xD That's what fillers are for. Anyway, originally you were to learn why the Woads are after Leilia, if that's what they are truly after. HINTHINT. xD And for not allowing you to learn this, I promise to make up for that. xD Which a hint of Lancelot and her connection. Besides, the reason she was being followed needs work anyway. Edit: I may have changed what the Woads are after. Uhm. So, when you read this, it may or may not be what you think. I could change it or you know, make you think I've changed what they're after. Sorry if I confuse you. I can answer any questions you ask, besides what the connection is. Lol.
Finally, excuse me for the crappiness. I will get back into the swing soon enough, my friends.
Silver Salamander – Lol. Glad I could spark an interest. I'm also very glad you see Leilia as not annoyingly perfect. If I ever do so, please smack me over the head. xD So I can bring myself back down to earth.
Cardeia - Mmm. I like this poetry in my prose. I have been told, by my English teacher, that I use much imagery in my writing. I was a writer before a poet. But more and more, I notice a stronger poet then writer. Lol. They're blending together. Xx; Enough so that when the teacher tells the class to use more indirect descriptions and more imagery in their writing and we all try to, she comments on my sheet say things like "I didn't mean you". Lol. Yeah. ramble The province obviously feels that I can write. I got 100 on my PAT (Provincial Achievement Test) Narrative Part One. I promise to show more connection as I move on. I don't want to hint at it in a huge way, y'know? I don't want to outwardly tell you. But I swear that Pant is a huge clue. cough That's a –large- connection to Lancelot… Oops... xD Big clue.
Babaksmiles- Speculation of the reader is key to the growth of characters in their mind, I enjoy it when I read and I want to allow my readers to do so. In fact, I speculate myself. xD I know how it ends, but I don't know how I get there.
June Birdie- As am I. As am I.
Op – Hurray! That is very much what I am working for. Sorry for my lack of updates. Truly, I am.
ElvenStar5 – Ahh! Really sorry. Lol. I'm trying. If you in such a dire need for it, I'm very sorry. Morgan, my dearest co writer friend, and I are debating putting our Fan Fiction up on here. You can credit Morgan for me getting inspired to write again. Lol.
Large thanks to Morgan because she is ever inspiring and also to Cardeia because I really enjoyed reading her fic today and it made me want to write. Also, I thank the artists today, yesterday, and tomorrow because their music is what keeps me writing.
Chapter Six
The Woads came down from the trees, weapons drawn as they walked towards them. Leilia looked at Tristan, he didn't show anything. She would have panicked, but she knew Tristan to be a good fighter, that was evident from their fight. Ah, but he didn't not have weapons. That could present a problem. She pushed the thought out of her mind that could be solved quickly; did she not have two swords?
One Woad stepped away from the group, a female. If there was one thing Leilia respected about the Woads was that they held their women in as much esteem as their men. So unlike the Roman pigs. This woman Leilia recognized. She was high up in the ranks of the Woads and this was not the first time they had met. No, they had met before and both that time and this were not on happy terms. "Leilia of the Lake, we meet again." The woman bowed and as did Leilia, both not letting their eyes leave each other. "And Knight Tristan of the Wall, we have never met. But I am told of your great skill with weapons. May we battle in the future and may you be blessed by your gods."
Leilia coughed, gazing at the woman. Woads, she hated them. They surprised you at every turn and when you figured them out they would smack the back of your knees so that you would be thrown off balance. She drew in a deep breath, pulling her thoughts forward, toward the Woad and the rest of the party they had been joined by. She knew that they could possibly defeat them if the Woads tried to attack. But again she remembered Tristan was weaponless and she was not sure giving him a weapon was the best idea. "Leilia, I request a word in private. We do not need the presence of those not involved." This time, it was not her who coughed. She looked to Tristan, raising her brow. He shook his head slightly. Apparently not thinking it best for her to go or perhaps he worried? "Yes, let us."
Branches were pushed from their way as they moved deeper in the forest to get out of the other people's earshot. Both women stopped when they knew they were free of ears. But neither talked. No, each gazed at the other. Both for different reasons. Leilia looked for any possible threats and tried to fix the exact reason the woman had come. She knew this woman to be blunt and for her people. But silence was not the woman's virtue. She was outspoken as were most Woads. But this silence the woman had taken to unnerved Leilia. It made her nervous and maybe the woman knew this. The woman bent, putting her weapons on the floor of the forest, showing a sign of piece. Leilia sighed, following her lead. But she left her garrote safely attached around her wrist, pretending it to be jewelry. She smirked, seeing the Woad's own garrote.
"I've been sent to strike you a bargain, Leilia." The Woad spoke, her chin slightly raised. This was something else Leilia had noticed about her. Pride and arrogance. "Give me what I want and you go free. Don't and well, you understand." Leilia scoffed, staying silent. The other woman shifted her weight, pushing a ringlet of brown away from her eyes. Her roundish face still raised a bit more then Leilia's. "You are never sent to do something. You always do things of your own bidding and for you people. But never when you're told. What is it you want?"
"You know me well, Sarmatian. You know what I want. Don't make this hard. I don't want to have to kill you." The woman crossed her arms, staring back at Leilia who shook her head. "Come now, Leilia. Don't be childish. Give and take. That's all this is. You give, I take, or you steal I return."
"No," Leilia breathed. No, she had waited so long to do what she had, to have stolen what she had. Now she couldn't waste all those plans, all the time spent watching, learning, and memorizing, and all the joy she had felt once she had done it. She felt no guilt. No, the way she saw it, she had deserved it. Besides, they were meant for each other. That she felt in his presence. That she would never give up. He meant the world to her. He meant too much now. "And besides, you wouldn't dare fight me. I beat you last time easily. This time will be no different. Except, maybe this time, I'll kill you and finally be rid of the Pict Princess Guinevere."
There were maybe ten Woads in all. Each stood completely erect, no one lazed, and all their eyes were on him. None spoke to each other. It was easier to be silent when there was noise. Silent in silence was as useful as wet kindling. He sighed, gazing longingly at his weapons tucked away in Arvakur's tack. He would need to figure a way to get them back.
A Woad moved, a smile perking on his previously stone face. "Want to spar, Knight?" Tristan cocked his brow, seeing the Woad gingerly plucking a sword from Arvakur's saddle. "Obviously no killing nor serious injury." He nodded, accepting his sword. He twirled it around, and then touched the blade. His eyes widened. It wasn't his. There were strange markings on it. Runes that he didn't recognize as Roman or Sarmatian. The Woad stepped closer, noticing the look Tristan had fixed on the blade. It shined brightly even in the dingy light of the forest. The hilt was bound tightly in leather and worn from use. But it was polished; care was taken as there was neither a scratch nor any dents. He ran his thumb across the blade; he smirked as a thin trail of blood shone. It had a double edge and the top of the hilt held many stones, also polished to shine. "Is that Leilia of the Lake's sword, Knight?"
"I believe so," he gazed in wonder at the sheer majesty of it. How each edge sliced through the air as he swung the singing blade, how smoothly it moved amazed him. Everything about it amazed him. The meaning of the runes evaded him, they scorched the back of his skull endlessly, and the drive to know what they meant drove his fingers over them obsessively. But what amazed him most was how a rogue, a ranger would come to posses such a sword. Did she steal it? Find it? He doubted that. Was it given to her? Who would own such a sword and give it away? Did she buy it? He smirked, maybe she killed for it.
Okay. I thought I would add in at the bottom that I really did give you clues, even if I didn't bluntly say them. Eh. This is crappy. Sorry. Lol. Remember my obsession over names. All the clues are there. I guess you need to know the Lancelot of the Arthurian Legends and French. xD Omfg. A clue right there! Now, the sword. From where I stand, it lies on both sides of these connections. Lancelot's and the Woad's. Course that could all change.