That night, as they settled down to sleep on the frozen ground, Dagonet wrapped Lucan in a warm nest of blankets, and put his leather studded jacket over the small boy who watched him with trusting eyes.
Why doesn't he recognise me? Dagonet thought despairingly. What had he been through, that he had blotted all memories from his mind? But he did not voice these fears, and instead had to be contented with caring for the boy to the best of his ability.
But how was he to know how to look after children? And yet, he thought guiltily, it was his own fault. He should have been there, by Adara's side. She had needed him, and he had not been there. And now he was trying, desperately trying to make up the years he had lost, and pay some of his debt to the woman he loved.
The woman he loved.
Where was she now? Watching him from a distant land. Smiling gently at his clumsy attempts to care for their son? Or cursing him, for abandoning her when she needed him most?
Dagonet sighed softly, and his eyes returned to Lucan's face. The boy was sleeping peacefully, all cares and worries eased away from his face, and Dagonet smiled fondly at the sight. He could not remember a time when his sleep had been so untroubled. Before he had come to this accursed country, he thought bitterly.
And it was beside his son that he slept.
Dagonet was sleeping, curled on his side, with Lucan next to him. Unmelted snow rested on the faces of the boy and the man, and the ground was frozen, but the sun shone weakly from between the clouds.
Dagonet jerked roughly from sleep by one of the Roman soldiers, to Marius' cry of, "Seize him!"
Dagonet was dragged violently along the ground for a few feet, and he was fighting before he was released. He struck out, hard, at the man in front of him, and was on his feet and fighting with his fists within seconds.
"No!" Lucan cried out as he woke, and this served only to fuel Dagonet's anger and growing hatred for the Romans.
He fought well, and hard, as if he had been brawling on street corners all of his life, but he did not see Marius' hand reach out from behind Lucan, and grab the boy roughly, covering his mouth so he could not cry out.
Dagonet kicked the three Roman soldiers to the ground, and had time to draw the dagger from his boot, snarling in rage at the soldiers, when Marius' voice cut through his fury.
"I have the boy!"
Dagonet turned to see Marius with a knife to the struggling Lucan's throat, and for a moment, his world stood still. He had come so close to being given a second chance, so close, and now that was being taken from him, by a fat Roman and his greed.
Lucan whimpered slightly, and Dagonet stood, for the first time in his life, uncertain. Marius gestured curtly to the Romans.
"Kill him!"
Dagonet growled in the back of his throat, turning with his knife held high, ready to confront anyone who dared to try and take him on, but Fulcinia, the wife of Marius, moved first. She dived in, shouting at her husband, but he only pushed her away violently, shouting at his men to kill Dagonet.
And then an arrow, seemingly out of nowhere, sped past Dagonet. Time seemed to freeze, as he watched the arrow moving painfully slowly towards Marius and his son, and for a moment, one terrible moment that seemed to stretch into eternity, Dagonet thought that Lucan would be hit. But the arrow hit Marius, square in the chest, and he looked down at it in amazement.
Dagonet spun around to see who the mystery archer was, and saw Guinevere, dressed now in Roman attire, walking through the snow as she raised her bow again.
Marius fell back, and Lucan ran to Dagonet, shaking in fright. Dagonet just saw Fulcinia bend over the body of her dying husband, before he swept Lucan up tightly into his arms.
The soldiers stood uncertain, and Dagonet pushed Lucan down, drawing his sword and snarling, a terrible animal snarl of rage and anger, both for what had happened and for what had almost happened.
He glanced to his left to see Arthur and Lancelot join Guinevere's side, Arthur with his sword drawn, Lancelot with his twin swords resting on his shoulders in his usual cocky stance.
"Your hands seem to be better," Lancelot commented to Guinevere in his customary flirtatious manner, that remained constant no matter what the situation.
Guinevere gave Lancelot a contemptible look, and she loosed an arrow that landed just on front of the feet of one of the soldiers, making them jump backwards nervously.
Dagonet glanced over to Arthur, twitching for permission to kill the bastards who had dared to hurt his child, but Arthur gave no sign of agreeing with Dagonet's sentiments, and the big knight stood rocking back and forth, his sword still raised high.
"Artorius!" Came Bors' wild cry as he cantered into the clearing, his axe raised high, and his horse squealing. "Do we have a problem?" he asked, skidding to a halt just behind the terrified soldiers.
Dagonet could not help but roll his eyes slightly. Bors just had to be melodramatic.
Arthur levelled his sword, his face grim.
"You have a choice," he told the soldiers. "You help, or you die." His eyes were as hard as steel, and Dagonet had no trouble in believing that Arthur was perfectly willing to carry out his threat.
The men looked at him for a moment, and Dagonet was desperate for them to fight back, if only so that he could fight for Lucan. Guinevere had stolen the death of Marius from him, and Dagonet could not forgive her for that. He had wanted Marius' life himself, an a vicious bloodlust had risen in him.
One of the soldiers dropped his sword on the snowy ground. "Put down your weapons." He ordered. When the others did not move, he shouted. "Do it now!"
Dagonet roared along with the Roman, daring anyone to disobey, and was almost disappointed as the swords dropped onto the earth, and Arthur lowered his sword, nodding to Jols, who rushed forwards to collect them. Dagonet still had his sword raised, but he had to admit that even the Romans were not stupid enough to give him even the slightest reason to kill them.
"How many did you kill?" Bors shouted to Tristan, as the scout came cantering into the clearing.
"Four," Tristan replied curtly in his Sarmatian accent, that, out of all the knights, he had retained.
"Not a bad start to the day!" Bors said, laughing.
Tristan came to a stop in front of Arthur, and dropped a crossbow at his feet. "Armour-piercing, " he told him. "They are close, we have no time."
"You ride ahead," Arthur said, and Tristan nodded, lifting his face to meet Dagonet's gaze. He raised his eyebrows slightly at Marius lying in the snow, his blood staining the snow, with Fulcinia weeping over him, and Dagonet shrugged his shoulders imperceptibly, as if to say 'they wouldn't let me kill any more!'
Tristan flashed him one of his rare grins, and spun his horse, cantering out of the clearing as quickly as he had arrived.
Sorry it's been so long coming, but I've had a million and one things to do in my life recently! Hope you liked it, and please, as always, review!