The wall loomed up to meet him. Tristan looked around warily; as if waiting for an attack. None came. Placing a hand on his sword hit he limped towards the stone fortress. Someone standing on a watchtower turned and fled. Tristan considered the firing an arrow past him, but decided it would not be the best way to announce his arrival.

Tristan stumbled back into the fort; no one made any move to help him; unconcernedly he tripped into his room and locked the door. He collapsed on to his bed, first checking the arrow in his arm; the skin around it was a sickly green. Mentally cursing every living being in a mile radius, he heated some water and pulled a bandage out of his supply bag. Tristan held his tongue between his teeth and gently pulled the arrow out. "Curse Bors!" he muttered.

"TRISTAN" a worried shout from outside his door informed him that Arthur had noticed his return. He made no reply, now holding a cloth bruised head.

" Tristan are you alright? Can you hear me?" the doorknob rattled ominously. Tristan smiled grimly; glad he had locked the door

"Tristan….." There was a sigh and the sound of someone walking away. To sick and tired to care that he was still in his rain drenched tunic, Tristan fell backwards onto his bed and was dead to the world instantly..

00oo00

Tristan awoke with first light; his vision had cleared and he could see well now, however his head still throbbed. Tristan sat up slowly through the mass of bruises around his head, his sharp ears picked up the sound of horses galloping. Frowning slightly, he moved to the window and drew the ragged sheet the served a curtain aside. Out of the stained glass he could see his comrades riding away; he felt a tinge of melancholy that he was not with them. He could also see Galahad bobbing along next to Arthur and Lancelot as far away for Bors as he could get, poor kid, he had only just been posted here and that probably wasn't the best introduction. Then there was Lancelot; he never seemed to have an opinion, just went with the flow, unlike Bors who would stand up for what he believed in. Stupid man. Tristan sometimes surprised himself at the amount he knew about his fellows, despite never talking to them much. He was one who preferred to be alone.

The fire in his head seemed to have dimmed and he dragged himself up with a mind to beg some food off Vanora.