ALMOST HAD IT ALL
AN: I would just like to say how shocked I was to hear of the explosions in London on the 7th and to tell those of you who reside in the area, have lost loved ones or know someone who's been injured that you are all in my prayers. As an American, I can understand the fear, anger, and sadness that come along with such an attack and would tell you that there are people all over the world who are suffering with you, praying for you, and offering their full support.
Chapter Six – Ambushes
Somewhere tonight
inside of me
a smile so distant… memory
covering up my face
so you can never see
the darkest part of me
Shutting my eyes
I'm dying inside…
I've lost myself
a thousand times
but I can remain
in spite of the pain
I'll cross this line
just one last time
They are part of me
these words that never heal
they still remind me
that all of this is real
hiding from the world
lost in my disease
so you can never see
the darkest part of me
Shutting my eyes
I'm dying inside
I've lost myself
a thousand times
but I can remain
in spite of the pain
I'll cross this line
just one last time
I can feel it…
I can feel it…
…Just for a second I want you to see
I hide myself from you
I hide myself from you
I feel so infected from these memories
I hide myself from you
I hide myself from you
from you…
from you…
Shutting my eyes
I'm dying inside
I've lost myself
a thousand times
but I can remain
in spite of the pain
I'll cross this line
just one last time
Just one last time
I'll cross this line
Just one last time
Just one last time
I'll cross this line
Just one last…
Just one last time
"Crossing the Line" TRUST Company
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470 A.D.
North of Hadrian's Wall…
Aylin lie on her bedroll and stared up at the tree branches overhead. It had been five hours since she had returned to the camp and she had yet to sleep. Despite the nightmares Aylin knew she would face if she were to sleep, she desperately wished to have a few minutes of complete rest. She had already made another trip back to the creek to splash her hot face and, hopefully, rid herself of the dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep. It was times like this that made her realize that it had been many years since she'd had a good night's rest. Eighteen years to be exact.
"It's your own fault," she thought to herself, thinking back those five hours to her first trip to the stream.
In all the years she had taken the powder, Aylin never slept afterward.
"At least it stopped the shaking… for a little while anyway," She mused as she clenched her wavering hands tightly.
She hadn't wanted to risk using the powder again since she had almost been discovered before. It wasn't like she had a large supply with her anyway, as most of it was still in her room at the fort. But she couldn't risk being caught by Arthur or the others. It was not something she wished to discuss with anyone. She hadn't even spoken of it to Cornelius, though she doubted he was completely ignorant of her actions.
"But you are cutting back… that's all that matters," she whispered.
The moment the words left her mouth, she rolled her eyes. It wouldn't be the first time she had 'cut back'. Throughout the past few years, Aylin had made attempts to decrease her usage of the drug until she was eventually free of the burden. Several times Aylin had believed she'd succeeded. But an aggressive bout of pain, shaking, and coughing would always lead her back. As a woman who relied on her ability to get things done quickly and efficiently, Aylin was pissed that this one thing kept her failing miserably.
With the sun just starting to lighten the early morning sky and noticing that some of the men were beginning to wake, Aylin wondered if they would mention anything about her behavior the night before.
She was jerked out of her thoughts by a sudden pain in her abdomen spreading like fire; her breathing became shallow, causing a harsh cough to wrack her body.
Gawain, who lay only a few feet from Aylin, was awakened by loud hacking sounds. He sat up and reoriented himself with his surroundings before he realized that the hacking sound was coming from Aylin, who was now hunched over, favoring her left side. Quickly grabbing his water skin from his pack, Gawain rushed over to her, pulling her into a kneeling position to look at her face.
Aylin looked up at him with almost frantic eyes. Blood flowed from the corner of her mouth, shocking both she and Gawain, who lowered his gaze to the ground and the red splatters now seeping into the coldness of the snowy dirt.
He leaned her head back and placed the water skin to her lips, his eyes showing her the worry that he couldn't voice.
Once she had drunk her fill, she leaned away from the skin, wiping the blood from her mouth with the sleeve of her shirt.
"Are you all right?" Gawain asked concernedly.
"I'm fine!" she snapped with irritation, though it lost something in her voice, strained and rough from the coughing. Though Aylin wished she wouldn't lose her temper, it was a natural defense when a weakness was shown. "How many times must I say it? I…am…fine!"
Gawain shook off her anger for he knew that if she was coughing up blood, everything wasn't 'fine'.
"Kavan, what have they done to your sister?" He thought.
Aylin leaned forward again, taking easy breaths, trying to slow her racing heart. After a few minutes, when her breathing was back to normal, she sighed and looked up at Gawain who was still crouched in front of her.
"I did not mean to snap at you…" she began looking down again, mumbling something about being bad at making apologies. "I…I am sorry."
He placed his hand on her hair, smoothing it back, then under her chin to bring her face up again.
"Apology accepted, but I'm still going to ask you again. Are you all right?" He asked quietly, but his eyes were piercing, daring her to say 'fine' once more.
Aylin would have enjoyed the challenge of a dare, but realized now wasn't the time. After a moment, remembering what she'd told Dagonet, she said,
"I must have taken ill during the rain storms on our way here. The coughing…will get better once we return to the wall, I'm sure…"
It was just another lie.
"But not a whole lie!" She told herself, because for some reason, she didn't want to lie to Gawain, or any of the men for that matter. They were her countrymen after all… and the closest – only actually - tie to her brother that she had.
True…they had encountered some less than favorable weather because of the bishop's whims, but her problems had started long before then.
"He doesn't know that though… But ifthis keeps up, I don't know how long that will last," she mused silently.
He knew she was lying. If he hadn't been watching her eyes, he would have missed the emotions skating across the icy blue that betrayed her words. Pain. Fear. Sadness. And resignation. That scared him the most.
Gawain didn't say anything though, just stood and held out a hand to her. He decided he wasn't in a prying mood and didn't see a point in it; the labor would bear no fruit. He knew enough about her now to see that she wouldn't involuntarily give up information.
Aylin took the offered hand and, with his help, came to her feet.
"Thanks…" she said quietly, bending to gather her bedroll and pack.
With a subtle nod to Gawain, Aylin turned to where Artay was tethered to a small tree, then walked around to whisper to her steed. She knew that the others must have heard her coughing and probably had seen the blood, but she hoped that they kept their questions to themselves, because she really didn't feel like explaining herself.
Arthur, on the other hand, wasn't so ready to let what he saw go by without explanation.
"Aylin…what was that? What is going on?" He demanded, unfortunately loud enough to draw the attention of those who weren't already watching to them.
Without looking away from her horse, Aylin answered, "Nothing."
"People don't cough up blood for no reason, Aylin! You've been acting strangely since we left the fort.
"It's nothing you need to know, Commander."
She didn't like it, but the interrogation Aylin knew was coming set her on edge. Hell, Gattus hadn't called her Iniga for no reason.
"Well, as Commander, I order you to answer my question!"
Aylin spun around, Artay jerking in reaction, the ice shielding her eyes quickly melted in the heat of a bright blue flame.
"Not my commander! I don't believe I'm required to tell you anything I choose not to!"
Arthur glared a moment. Galahad stepped forward from the knights, who watched in confusion, not sure if they should interfere to protect Arthur from Aylin, or the other way around. The young knight cleared his throat to gain the pair's attention.
"Stay out of it Galahad!" They both shouted.
The man sighed and looked back to the others who only shrugged in response.
"I may not be your commanding officer, but I would like you to tell me what just happened… as a friend," he said in a softer tone.
But the fire hadn't left Aylin's gaze. So angry was she, her entire body shook with controlled violence.
"Let's get something straight, Arthur. You were Kavan's commander and friend. I am not he. I've only known you for three days; don't misconstrue respect between acquaintances as friendship. My business is just that…my own. Not anyone else's and I don't care to have my actions questioned by a Roman."
Arthur's eyes widened momentarily, but Aylin couldn't take the words back and so walked to the other side of Artay, where his tack was located. Ignoring the men around her, Aylin silently went about saddling her horse – and replacing the bag from her belt back in its hidden spot.
The knights, Horton and Jols resumed what they'd been doing, every once in a while glancing back at Arthur or Aylin. Tristan watched the longest before mounting and riding into the woods, scouting their path.
Arthur remained where he stood in shock. Lancelot came up beside him as Arthur mumbled, "Well…that was different."
"A prime example of why men try their damnedest to stay away from women during certain times of the month," Lancelot quipped.
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Once prepared, the other knights joined Tristan in the woods. Tensions were high, but no one mentioned Aylin's scene earlier in the clearing and for that, she was grateful.
They continued on a speedy pace through the woods for until late in the afternoon, stopping only to rest the horses and eat a midday meal, where Bors immediately went to relieve himself, joking and laughing with the others about 'a baby's arm holding an apple'. After a quick bite to eat, they rode again, every one of them eager to get the mission over with.
With the sun sinking lower in the sky, the already scarce light in the woods became dimmer and dimmer.
Tristan rode up next to Arthur, who happened to be in front of Aylin.
"We are being followed. Woads."
"Where?" The commander asked.
"Everywhere."
It seemed as though that word was the starting cue.
Arrows flew out of the trees; ropes connected to them blocked off the trail. Turning the horses around, the group raced in the opposite direction as more arrows were fired from the bows of the Woads.
It didn't take long for the knights to realize that they were surrounded. Grouped together, they slid off their horses, drawing weapons of choice and prepared for a fight.
Aylin was so focused on the blue warriors, that she didn't notice the bag that fell from her saddle to the ground, disguised by dead leaves.
But someone did.
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Later that night, on the edge of the woods, the knights had made camp for the final time before they were to reach the Roman estate. Horton was a little miffed to have to spend another night outdoors, but one look from Aylin had him eating any complaints he might voice.
Safe to say, they were all dumbfounded by the day's earlier events. Why had Woads retreated? What was Merlin planning?
Tristan sat quietly, as usual, and watched Aylin fromunderneath his hair, biding his time.
While the others were discussing the sudden ambush and retreat, Aylin was sitting, knees pulled to chest, forehead resting on them. The pain was wrenching, the shaking worse; one minute she would be freezing, the next would be unbearable heat and sweating.
Finally, she couldn't take it any more. She didn't care who saw, as long as she got what she wanted. Needed.
Jumping from her seated position, Aylin went to the saddle on the ground near Artay… and almost screamed in panic when she didn't find her bag tied there.
Tristan watched her search the ground around the tack, pull off the saddle packs and empty them on the dirt.
Lancelot looked amused. "Aylin…what are you doing?"
"Where is it? Where is it?" she muttered quickly under her breath.
"Where the hell is it?" She shouted, dragging at her hair with trembling hands.
All amusement fled the air as the men glanced worriedly at each other before slowly rising to their feet.
"What's wrong Aylin?" Dagonet asked.
"I couldn't have lost it," she was saying to herself, paying no heed to the men moving toward her.
Tristan stood and stepped forward. "Are you looking for this?"
Aylin looked up at his face, then down at his hand.
There it was.
The bag was sitting there in his outstretched palm.
She didn't hesitate to reach for it, but he was faster, retracting his hand and taking what she wanted away from her.
The fire that the men werequickly becoming so used to lit in her eyes as she tried to grab the bag again. The scout merely pulled it out of reach again.
"Give it back!" She threatened lowly.
Horton stayed at his seat by the fire, frightened that a brawl might break out.
When Tristan didn't move to hand it to her, Aylin unsheathed her sword and leveled it at his throat.
Every single man tensed; hands went to weapon hilts.
Tristan kept his eyes on Aylin's. He knew what he was holding. His trained eyes had seen it fall from her belt and after the Woads had retreated, had picked it up and opened it.
Yeah, he knew what it was. He remembered a soldier that had been stationed at the Wall several years ago had used Morpheus often. Tristan had come across the man in an alley near the tavern. He'd been dead for a few hours from taking too much of the drug at one time. Tristan recognized the symptoms in Aylin's actions: shaking, large pupils, fever, and agitation.
"I want to help you," he said slowly.
"Help me," she muttered, "Help me? How do you possibly think you could help me?"
"I know how to make the pain stop," he said simply.
Aylin stared at him. He seemed to be telling the truth. She lowered the sword from his neck.
The knights let out a breath that they hadn't realized they had been holding.
The sigh of relief quickly turned to concern when Aylin's sword fell from a shaking grasp and she dropped to her hands and knees, convulsing.
The scout was on the ground beside her in a heartbeat, shifting her body so Aylin's head lie in the crook of his elbow. He tossed the bag to Arthur, who had kneeled next to them.
"Morpheus," was all he said. All he had to say. Arthur had been the one Tristan had come to when he'd found the dead soldier. The commander too hadbeen awareof theman's problem and knew how to handle a situation such as this.
"Bors, get me a water skin. Lancelot, hold her still," Arthur ordered, opening the bag and digging out a small amount of powder with the spoon. Bors returned with the water, as Lancelot kneeled down and held Aylin's legs immobile.
Taking the spoon and the water skin, Arthur had Tristan open Aylin's mouth so he could pour in the water and then added the powder. Tristan closed her mouth and forced her to swallow by rubbing her throat.
Slowly, the shaking ceased and finally the diluted dose to put Aylin to sleep. Tristan laid her on a bedroll and took a seat in front of a rock near the fire. Luckily for her, that amount of powder taken with a large amount of water, would cancel out the withdrawal symptoms, including her inability to sleep.
Galahad sat with a plop, unsure of what had just transpired. "What the hell just happened?"
Dagonet and Gawain sat on either side of Aylin and watched her with careful eyes.
Arthur moved from his knees to sit as well and answered Galahad's question.
"Morpheus withdrawal. It's a drug popular in certain parts of Roman society - the wealthy part. I guess Aylin got a hold of some during her stay there. Her body was reacting badly to not having the enough of the drug in its system."
"That would explain the change in attitude," Lancelot muttered.
"We should get some rest. We have a long day tomorrow," Arthur advised, though he did glance at Aylin with concern.
The others tried to make themselves comfortable, while thoughts ran through their minds of what had just taken place. Dagonet and Gawain stayed up, watching over the camp and their sleeping charge.
Tristan watched from his spot leaning against a rock, refusing to let the worry and fear he felt swarming through him show on his face.
Next Chapter: The Estate