I keep telling you guys, I update quickly because I have it already written. I started this story months ago. We're coming to the end of what I have so far, so we might get another few chapters before the updates slow down. Just to warn you.
and I think I have an idea of how to get Tristan and Codi together, but you're going to have to be patient.
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Misericordia Julia Tertia was a royal pain in the ass. Or rather, Codi thought darkly, an imperial one. They had been traveling for two days now and Lady Misery, as Codi had dubbed her, had only stopped complaining long enough to eat obscene amounts of food three times a day and complain that it tasted old and stale. Luckily, she had her own supplies (that required an extra wagon to carry); unluckily, she would likely finish it before they arrived at their destination.
Arthur, in an attempt to spare as many as possible, let the other knights scout ahead periodically, not just Tristan and Codi, who usually went. Codi rode gloomily between Lancelot and Tristan, trying to block out Lady Misery's loudly complaining voice. She couldn't tell what was being said, exactly (her Latin wasn't quite as good as it might be), but she got the basic idea. The wagon was much to bouncy, there weren't enough pillows, she felt sick, it was too cold...the list went on. Thankfully, Shasa had enough sense to remain unseen, lest he upset the lady and her attendants. He probably was saving her a headache by keeping his distance, but Codi missed him.
"I feel bad for Arthur," Codi remarked. "He actually has to answer her. The rest of us can simply claim not to understand."
"What do you mean, 'claim' not to understand? I've served the Romans for more than ten years and I still can't catch anything they say," Lancelot groused. "It's all gibberish."
"Well, be glad for it now," Tristan advised. "It's much easier to block someone out when you can't understand what's being said."
"Speak for yourself," Lancelot retorted. "It's like...like...I don't know. There's nothing to compare it to. I don't think I've ever wanted to kill someone so badly. Certainly not a lady."
"That's it!" Codi exclaimed, snapping her fingers.
"What's it?" Lancelot asked suspiciously.
"Go work your magic," Codi suggested mischievously. "I've never heard a woman complain with you to...entertain her."
Lancelot looked slightly ill. "Thank you, no."
"But Lancelot, you could save us all," Codi cried dramatically, and gripped his shoulder. "Do the right thing, Lancelot. You're our only hope."
Lancelot shook her off. "Not bloody likely."
"So selfish," Tristan said mournfully, shaking his head.
"Why don't you have a go at it?" Lancelot snapped. "You could use the practice."
"I," Tristan declared, "have no need of charm or flattery to win a woman."
"Ah," Lancelot said wisely. "Animal magnetism."
"I prefer to think it's my rugged good looks," Tristan said seriously, and winked at Codi as Lancelot snorted.
"Is that what you call looking like something the cat dragged in?" Lancelot shook a lock of curly hair out of his eyes.
Tristan opened his mouth to replay, but Codi interrupted him. "Lancelot, do you know that you take more time to do your hair than I do?"
"Codi, I love you dearly, but that's really not saying much," Lancelot said dryly. "I think Bors spends more time on his hair than you do."
"Har, har," Codi said, rolling her eyes, but it kind of stung. "Still, that makes you the most feminine member of this company."
"You are both simply jealous," Lancelot told them airily.
"Oh, yes," Codi agreed. "I am simply green with envy."
Lancelot and Tristan stared at her.
"Green?" Lancelot asked dubiously.
"Er—never mind," Codi muttered.
"Gawain's back," Tristan suddenly announced, nodding ahead.
"About time," Lancelot said sourly.
"But who's that he's got with him?" Codi wondered, squinting.
"Looks like a woman," Tristan said grimly. Codi glanced at him sharply but his dark eyes were unreadable.
Gawain trotted up with a young woman—a girl, really—riding behind him. He dismounted and carefully lifted her down after him. Her hair was dirty and unkempt, but it looked like it might have been blond at one time. Her face was thin and pale with a smattering of freckles across her nose. Her dress was ragged and dirty and she looked utterly terrified.
"What's this?" Arthur asked briskly, clearly relieved at an excuse to ignore Misericordia.
"I found her coming out of the woods," Gawain said. "She says she needs help."
"What is your name?" Arthur asked kindly.
"Brenna," she squeaked, eyes wide. "Please—we were set upon by thieves—I escaped but my mother and sister are—please, will you help me? They're in the forest...if they haven't moved, I can lead you to them."
"She's lying," Codi said suddenly, surprising everyone—including herself.
"What?" Arthur looked at her closely. "Are you sure?"
"I'm sure," Codi said firmly.
Arthur turned back to Brenna. "Well, miss?"
"How—but I practiced," Brenna cried desperately as tears began to stream down her face. "He made me say it over and over and over again--"
"Who did?" Arthur asked calmly.
"My husband," Brenna whispered.
"Why did your husband want you to lie?"
"He's a—thief," Brenna spat. "And a liar and a murderer and—and a rapist. He makes me help him sometimes—if I don't do it right, he beats me. If I don't come back with you, he'll beat me."
"Well, then, you just won't go back," Arthur said gently.
"Not—go back?" Brenna's tears stopped and she stared up at him through a curtain of lank hair. Codi's eyes narrowed. Something didn't feel right."You mean—you'll take me with you?"
"If you wish it." Arthur nodded.
Brenna stared a moment more and then a smile lit her thin face. "Aye—aye! Oh, my lord, thank you!" she seized Arthur's hand and kissed it. Tears began to flow again as she beamed up at him. "May the Lady shine on you, my lord."
"Er—thank you," Arthur said, clearly uncomfortable with the pagan blessing. "Perhaps you should ride with Codi."
"No, no, no," Codi said, backing up. Something about Brenna bothered her. She hadn't lied—not outright, anyway. But she was hiding something. "It's my turn to scout. She can ride with Gawain. He'll be here a while."
Without waiting for an answer, Codi urged Moondancer into a gallop and kept going until Shasa appeared in the tree line. Smiling, she waited for him to catch up.
"Is she really a knight?"
Gawain hesitated before answering. "Well, yes and no. She's a warrior, yes, and a member of the company, but she wasn't forced into it like the rest of us. She asked to. Well, actually, she told Arthur that she was joining the company and won the right through trial by combat. There was no asking involved, really."
"She must be very strong," Brenna said softly.
"She's the strongest woman I've ever known," Gawain agreed heavily.
"I'll wager she never let men push her around or beat her," Brenna said bitterly.
"But they did," Gawain corrected her. "Codi used to be meeker than a day old kitten until she was attacked by bandits. They—well, you know—they...violated her. She almost died. Then Tristan took her away to live with her mother and she came back a year later with tattoos and a wolf and she told Arthur that she was joining the company."
"Oh." Brenna scowled. "I wish I could be like that."
"Codi changed because she had to," Gawain sighed. "And it brings her no joy, I think. Pray that you'll never be forced to change like that."
"You speak as if you know her very well," Brenna remarked.
"I knew the old Codi better than any—save one, perhaps," Gawain said a trifle bitterly. "We were to be married...and then, well, it--happened. She couldn't bear my presence, she wouldn't even speak to me—and then she left for more than a year. She's been back for weeks and I feel like I don't know the new Codi at all." Gawain shook himself. "Why am I telling you all this? I've only just met you."
"Perhaps you simply needed to tell someone," Brenna suggested. "How did Codi know I was lying?"
"I haven't the faintest idea," Gawain said honestly. "It seems to be a new development, at any rate, or I wouldn't be here now."
"Why is that?" Brenna asked, puzzled.
"I told her last week that it was Lancelot who stole her stash of honey-cakes."
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Codi slowed as she approached the wood. Something was not right. The wind shifted, coming from the trees, and Shasa immediately began to growl deep in his throat. Someone—several someones, in fact—was waiting for them. Brenna's husband, Codi thought. Silly man, to think he can take on a company of Sarmatian knights with only ten men. Codi frowned. How did she know there were ten? Shasa advised her not to worry about it, so Codi shrugged and kept walking forward as if she had not noticed anything strange.
"Fetch Tristan and a few others," she told Shasa. "As many as you think necessary."
Shasa loped off to complete his task, leaving Codi to face the rogues alone. As she entered the wood, she kept a sharp eye out. This time, she saw the rope strung across the track. With a smirk, she kicked Moondancer into an abrupt gallop, ducking under the rope and wheeling around to face the rogues who had emerged from hiding. All held knives save one, who held a crossbow in his hands. For a moment, she saw different faces—different rogues—staring at her and heard a slimy, sneering voice in her head.
Mentally shaking herself, Codi smiled at the band of thieves. "Why, hello. Lovely day for a ride, is it not?"
"A fine day for a ride," the leader agreed. "And finer still for sport."
"Sport? Whatever can you mean?" Codi asked innocently, watching the crossbow out of the corner of her eye. The man who held it barely knew which end to point.
"Whatever sport a little lassie like ye can provide," he replied with a nasty and all too familiar grin. "Tis been a long week, ye ken."
"I see," Codi said slowly, and smiled impishly. Not this time, ass wipe. "Well, I'll see what I can do for such a fine bunch of boyos."
As quick as thought, Codi whipped her bow off her shoulder and planted an arrow in the bowman's neck. The rest stared in shock and then came to their senses after two more of their comrades found arrows sprouting out of their chests. They swarmed around Moondancer only to discover that the filly did not appreciate their attentions.
Still, seven to one were not very good odds and the element of surprise had been lost. They darted in one or two at a time, trying to cut through the girth and unsaddle her. Where the hell was Tristan? Codi thought peevishly. He should have been here by now.
Codi glanced up and made a decision. Taking a deep breath, she shook her feet free of the stirrups and crouched on top of the saddle. With an ugly laugh, the leader of the rogues lunged forward to knock her down but found that his target had disappeared. Dancer reared and bolted, knocking over a man too slow to get out of her way.
By this time, Codi was several branches higher and contemplating her next move. Clearly, Tristan had been delayed by something. She could just stay put, but the branch she was sitting on wasn't particularly comfortable and the rogues might decide to find another place from which to ambush them later on. With a grimace, Codi crawled back down through the branches and peered through the leaves at the rogues, who were muttering to themselves of demons and faeries.
Codi smirked. I'm not through with you yet, my ducks. Without a sound, Codi swung down from her perch, catching the leader in the head with both feet. A sinister crack heralded his broken neck. Codi crouched low, knives at the ready, and stared around at the remaining six.
"Witch!" one hissed. "Demon!"
"Oh, come now," she said with a wolfish grin. "No need to be bitter."
"Tis unnatural," he spat. "A woman--"
"Has every right to defend her self," Codi snapped, eyes blazing. "You would have raped me, robbed me, and killed me if I let you. You are filth. And you shall die as filth."
The man cried out in pain and fear as a snarling wolf tackled him from behind. The others turned to flee and fell with arrows in their backs. Codi glared up at Tristan and Lancelot and Galahad.
"What took you so long?" she demanded, taking Dancer's reigns from Galahad.
"There were others waiting for us," Tristan explained. "They must have circled behind you."
"Oh."
"Good work, though," Lancelot commended her, looking at the four men she had killed. He nudged the leader. "How did this one die? He hasn't a mark on him."
"Broken neck," Tristan grunted after a brief glance. "Come on, then, play time is over. Back to the wagons."
Codi groaned. "Do we have to?"
"Codi, shame on you," Galahad chided. "Arthur needs our help."
"She's his countrywoman, not ours," Codi muttered.
"We could just stay here a bit longer," Lancelot suggested, glancing around shiftily. "You know, clean up a bit..."
"The bodies would surely frighten the lady," Tristan agreed seriously. "So messy."
"And we are solely devoted to the lady's comfort," Codi added virtuously.
"We're doing Arthur a favor, really," Galahad concluded. "Right, then—to work. Mind you do a thorough job."
"It is a rather large job, isn't it?" Lancelot observed. "Why, we could be here for hours..."
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That night, Codi tossed and turned, unable to sleep. She had grown used to having Shasa with her at night. He was warm and furry and had a tendency to discourage nightmares. It was beginning to look as if she would have to do without sleep that night. With a heavy sigh, she sat up and saw Tristan sitting near the fire, turning something over in his hands.
"Don't you ever sleep?" she asked, sitting down next to him.
"Only when the moon is full," Tristan told her. "I've still got another few days to go."
Codi sighed. He had the oddest sense of humor. "What's that?"
"A ring," he answered, holding it out to her. It was a smooth silver band engraved with strange runes. The craftsmanship was exquisite.
"It's beautiful," Codi breathed. She looked up at him inquisitively. "Although it doesn't really seem to your taste."
"It was my mother's," Tristan explained softly. "My father gave it to her when they were promised to each other. She gave it to me when I left, saying that I'd better have it in case I found a lass before I returned home."
"Have you?" Codi asked curiously, realizing that she knew very little about Tristan's personal life.
"I just keep it as a good luck charm, really," Tristan shrugged. "It helps me think, sometimes." He looked down at her and smiled. "Is that why you can't sleep? Thinking too much?"
"No," Codi said, shaking her head. "My bright-eyed boyo isn't here."
"Ah," Tristan murmured. "Like a babe without her poppet." A gentle, teasing tug on her braid took the sting out of his words. "Would you like me to sing you a lullaby, my bairn?"
"I remember...when I was—sick, you sang to me, didn't you?" she asked, eyes dark and troubled at the memories. "I remember your voice..."
Tristan smiled and began to sing softly. The melody was simple and soothing and, when it was done, Codi was sleepy and oddly peaceful.
"That was nice...where did you learn it?" she murmured drowsily.
"My mother used to sing it to me and my brother," Tristan told her. Even though he was no longer singing, his voice was soothing.
"You have a brother?" Codi asked, surprised. "I didn't know that."
"And a sister," Tristan confirmed. "They were both much younger than me. Danya was only two when I left."
"Tell me more about your family," Codi said sleepily, and leaned against his shoulder.
"My mother was much younger than my father, but theirs wasn't an arranged marriage," Tristan recalled after a moment. "She was the most beautiful woman in the clan and when the tribes met every year, all the young men vied for her favor. But she only had eyes for my father and they married. They weren't just—passionate—about each other. They were truly in love—bound to each other. As soon as I was old enough to understand what there could be between a man and a woman, I knew I wanted to have what they had. And they loved me and my siblings as much as they loved each other. My father always told me that the most noble destiny a man can have is to love his wife and children and keep them happy and healthy. He was a very simple man, my father."
"Then why are you so complicated?" Codi wondered, eyes half closed.
"I suppose I've led a rather more complicated life than my father," Tristan sighed. "But I still want the same things...I just have to wait before I can have them."
"You still want a soul mate and lots of children?" Codi snorted. "Somehow I can't see you in that light."
But that wasn't completely true. The day-time Tristan was all warrior—dangerous, determined, and utterly ruthless in battle. But this Tristan, bathed in the soft light of the moon seemed...not soft, but gentler. More human, for all he retained the feral, wild grace that made him Tristan. Codi shook her head. It was too confusing to puzzle over.
"A 'soul-mate', aye, if that's what you want to call it," Tristan agreed, unfazed. "I can do without lots of children, though."
"I'm never going to have children," Codi mumbled, rubbing her nose against the leather of his jerkin. "And I'll never...well, you know...do that. Ever again."
"Ah, my lass, someday some lucky man will show you that it doesn't have to be a nightmare," Tristan said, shaking his head ruefully.
"You can keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better," Codi shrugged, and yawned.
"If I were a dishonorable man, I would make a wager on that," Tristan remarked.
"What makes you so sure I'll have a man again?" Codi asked, genuinely curious. "Not many men would even have me."
"Not many Britons, perhaps," Tristan admitted. "But you're Woad. I can't believe there weren't men in your village who weren't interested."
"Alright, fine. But still, what makes you think I won't just keep myself to myself for the rest of my mortal existence? Because that's what the plan is, as of now." Codi straightened so she could look at his face.
Tristan looked down at her. "You're too much a woman to hide all your life," he said seriously.
Codi stared at him. "Too much--"
"Aye," Tristan said, and took something away from the fire. He handed it to her. It was a warm cup of tea. "Go back to bed, Codi. We've a long day ahead of us tomorrow."
Codi did as he suggested, drinking the tea before she went. It had the desired effect. By the time she made it to her bed roll she was yawning and struggling to keep her eyes open. Codi sighed. Tristan must be silly from lack of sleep. Too much a woman, indeed.