Hiya guys! Sorry about the lull. Now I ran into a slight problem in this chapter: if the roman had really cut Tristan that deep it would have had the same affect as him slitting his wrist. So lets just ignore that shall we? Please.
Thanks reviewers, remember: If you stop reviewing, I stop typing.
Vanora smiled when she saw the untidy scout limp in. She had a soft spot for Tristan, true he was a bit sadistic, but he was always polite and civilised around her and she liked his quite manner.
"Hello love, why didn't you leave with the others?"
Tristan shook is head, gladly accepting the flagon of ale and food she offered. "Thank you Vanora," he said softly
"You look pale Tristan are you alright?"
" I'm fine"
"If you say so, eat here where I can keep an eye on you."
Tristan grinned and sunk onto a bench once again utilising his knife as something to eat with,
"I'm sorry about what my Bors did to you Tristan, you did the right thin letting the poor child go"
Tristan smiled grimly "She was only as old as young Galahad, to young to be brought here or know better."
She nodded seeing that the ruthless killer had some morals.
He limped over to the tap to wash his plate, having some respect for Vanora, unlike most of her patrons.
"Here Tristan I'll take that you go and rest."
Tristan smiled, his head was starting to spin again.
He trekked up to his room, amazed at how long it had taken. Tristan sunk onto his bed again, intending to go back to sleep.
Rap rap rapA sharp tap pulled him from his daze
"What?" he moaned. Tristan I know your in there, please come out" Tristan snorted and called back harshly
"Go and pray Arthur, pray that I do not flee to death by the hands of the Romans." There was a cry from outside his door
"Tristan you will not do that, I'll kill you myself before you do that!" He could also recognise Gawain's voice.
"Arthur I wouldn't' open that door even if I could!" He retorted sharply.
There was a large portion of truth in this; Tristan was exhausted from his injuries and walking about and wished to stay where he was.
"Tristan, what do you mean you can't?" Arthur questioned urgently. Tristan refrained from answering, having already wasted enough breath.
"Jols,"
There was a clink of keys and the door swung open; Arthur blanched visibly at Tristan's state. Tristan reluctantly pulled himself up "What do you want Arthur?" he asked wearily, wishing to sleep.
"Tristan, I beg your forgiveness; I should neither have sent you out nor failed to find you. I had been misled in my ways."
Tristan raised one eyebrow questioningly. Arthur paused
"But Tristan what you did is inexcusable by Roman law; you must be punished." Tristan looked at Arthur with a hate that the roman commander had never seen before.
"Leave him alone!"
There was a shout from the door. Vanora was standing there, baby on her hip, who she passed to a scared looking Gawain.
" Poor thing has been down to see me today, he could hardly walk, yet still he I courteous, now you Arthur, you think it you duty to come in here and punish him!"
"Lady…."Arthur said "Tis not my will, but that of the Roman Empire."
Vanora fixed him with an ice-cold stare; something Tristan had not though possible from the gentle woman. There was a yell form outside and Tristan sat up, instantly reaching for his knife. He stood up warily and pointed its tip at Arthur
" Tristan please do not make this more difficult for yourself." With that Arthur left Tristan still holding his knife in front of him. Tristan turned his attention to the door; two burly roman guards were standing there. The first seized Tristan and roughly pulled his arms behind his back Tristan slashed at him, but missed and his knife clattered to the ground. He struggled wildly before the other man struck him on the side of his head the world spun before righting itself; by this time one of the two had drawn a knife from his pocket. He pulled Tristan's hand out in front of him. Tristan gritted his teeth as the roman brought the knife down into his skin; Vanora screamed and clapped her hand to her mouth. Tristan flinched and turned his head away determined that no one would see his pain. The man expertly flicked his knife out and Tristan gasped still fighting down a scream. The roman drew the blade across his last cut, deeper this time. Tristan yelled pulled his hand away. The first man turned to the crowd who had gathered at the door
"Healers, no one is to help this man."
So this is roman punishment. Thought Tristan. Blackmail and torture.
The Roman placed his knife on Tristan's throat; Tristan instinctively tilted his head up
"You do that again and this is what awaits you." he released Tristan, who fell forwards, and left. "Tristan?" Vanora was hovering uncertainly behind him.
"It's fine, it' fine" he mutter under his breath, fossicking in his bag before drawing out another bandage; he bound it tightly around his wrist
He grimaced again, then smiled at Vanora,
"Go, Bors will be waiting for you." Closing the door after her, he checked that it was locked and began to more closely inspect his wounds. Having given up in bandaging it he looked with trepidation at his wrist; two deep cuts in the shape of a cross, rested on his hand. Tristan looked up in loathing; he had no wish, nor need for a cross on his hand.
He fell asleep again didn't wake for a time.