Disclaimer – See previous chapter.

xxx

Back at Hadrian's Wall:

Vanora curiously examined a chest she had found in the fortress hall. While in there cleaning up with another maid, she had found it on a shelf in the back of the room, rapidly gathering dust. The chest was relatively small and decorated with thin gold linings. It wasn't locked.

"Might as well open it," she said to herself, leaning back on her chair in her room. She lifted the top of the chest open to see a scroll, tied with a thin red ribbon. "Wonder what this is," she said softly, taking the scroll out of the box, before a little bundle of hyperactivity leapt onto her lap.

"What's that mommy?" Gilly asked breathlessly. "A story?"

Vanora laughed and ruffled the boy's curly black locks. "It might be. I found this in the fortress hall. Do you want to read it with me?"

Gilly smiled widely. "Okay!" Vanora laughed again and untied the thin ribbon, the yellow parchment unrolling in front of her. At the top of the paper were the words

FROM THE NOTES OF ROMULUS SAELNA; ROMAN COMMANDING OFFICER

in bold red ink. Right underneath that was text, written in clear slanted script.

Twenty-seven years ago. Ayny Nuyda; a Roman woman who had everything. She was rich, as her father was a favored patron of the Pope. She was also the most beautiful woman at Hadrian's Wall, with her raven locks and deep gray-blue eyes.

She was not only a beauty and a wealth. She was also a formidable warrior. Her skills in archery and sword-fighting matched those of the famed Sarmatian knights, stationed here at the wall. In fact, she would often challenge them to a contest of skills, and rarely did she loose.

Her beauty attracted many, but her skills of war shied them away. All but one; a Sarmatian knight by the name of Dharyl. Dharyl was the perfect man in the eyes of many women. He was handsome, and skilled in both the sword and the bow.

Eventually, Ayny grew to love Dharyl as well, and it wasn't too long before Dharyl took Ayny to his bed, taking her maidenhead and making her his.

But not all good things could last forever. It was the end of Dharyl's term, and there was no way Ayny's father would have allowed her to follow her lover to Sarmatia. Ayny and Dharyl grew melancholy with despair, but nothing could be done.

A few weeks after the knights were given their discharge, Dharyl went back to Sarmatia, without Ayny.

A few months later, Ayny discovered something. Something that was the fruit of her one night passion with her lover. She was pregnant.

Overjoyed and terrified, Ayny made her parents believe that she was going to Rome for a few months, so that she may search for a husband to wed, when in reality, she was going to Sarmatia. Happy that they're daughter was going to forget all about her Sarmatian lover, they agreed.

After six months, in which Ayny grew considerably bigger, she arrived at Sarmatia and searched out Dharyl. But just as she was about to ask a local where she may find him, she saw him herself, with his arms around a woman's waist and resting on her swollen belly.

The woman was his wife. He had moved on, while she pined away longing for him.

Heartbroken, she returned to Hadrian's Wall, where she birthed her child in secrecy: it was a girl. The babe was beautiful, with her mother's midnight hair, pale skin, and stormy eyes. There was no trace of her father in her.

Ayny was terrified. She did not want to go to her parents for help. They would surely condemn her. So she did the only logical thing that her mind could think up:

She left her baby at the wall and killed herself.

"Poor woman," Vanora mumbled, as she rolled up the scroll and replaced it in the chest, Gilly staring curiously at his mother. She was not stupid; she knew who Ayny's daughter was. But would she tell her?

xxx

Luna smiled as dappled moonlight fell onto the forest floor, illuminating the eight riding figures. Moonrise was her favorite time of the day; everything was calm, peaceful, quiet, and cool. The forest was no exception tonight.

The calm of her mind during the ride was broken when she heard the familiar sound of a bowstring being stretched, most likely being fitted with an arrow. That could only mean one thing.

"Woads," she said quietly to Arthur. "They're tracking us."

"Where?" Arthur asked, just as calmly.

This time, it was Tristan who answered. "Everywhere."

Without warning, arrows shot out of the trees, barbed wire attached to the shafts. The arrows embedded themselves in the trees, making the barbed wire criss-cross and blocking their path.

"Get back!" Lancelot and Bors shouted.

The eight riders turned their horses around, trying to find an alternate way out of the forest. Arthur led them towards a small trail only to have a wooden fence spring up, blocking it. They returned to their original place, only to find themselves surrounded by Woads. They each drew their swords, and Luna and Tristan notched arrows into their bows and aimed it at the Woads.

Strangely, the Woads didn't move.

"What are you waiting for?" Gawain yelled. Luna shot him a look that said 'Please don't get us killed!'

A horn blew in the distance. The Woads looked at one another, then back at Arthur, before retreating back into the woods, disappearing into the mass of green and brown.

"Inish," Dagonet growled once the Woads were gone. "Devil ghosts."

Galahad looked confused. "Why did they not attack?" he asked.

Arthur frowned. "Merlin doesn't want us dead."

xxx

From the shadows in the trees, Merlin watched Arthur and his knights stoically. He knew that maybe, these knights could help save Britain. If only they would realize that fighting for Rome would not be the answer. And if they were to realize that, they had to be spared.

"We should have killed them, Merlin," one of them hissed in the native language of the Woads.

Merlin shook his head. "There might be a purpose for Artorius and his knights."

"Then why not kill the girl?" another one asked. "She has no purpose. We do not need her to win the war against the Saxons."

"No," Merlin said firmly. "She is a dear friend of Arthur, and to kill her would make him, as well as his knights, turn against us. She is a formidable warrior. She can help."

xxx

The knights were now taking shelter from the rain in a grove of trees, most of them wrapped up in cloaks and trying to keep warm. Luna was sitting beside the silent scout, leaning against his shoulder and half-asleep.

"Ugh, I can't wait to leave this island," groaned Gawain. "If it's not raining, it's snowing. If it's not snowing, it's foggy."

"And that's the summer," Lancelot added.

"Rain is good," said Bors. "Washes all the blood away."

"Doesn't help the smell," said Dagonet.

Luna raised her head from Tristan's shoulder. "Then put soap in the clouds," she said jokingly before letting her head rest on Tristan's shoulder again.

Galahad smirked at them. "Is there anything going on between you two that we should know about?" he asked cheekily, making all the knights look at Tristan and Luna and then smirking as well.

Luna rolled her eyes and scoffed. "Aside from the fact that I'm sleepy and Tristan is the only one who isn't under the rain?"

"In denial, I see," Lancelot teased.

Luna glared at him. "If you don't shut up, I'll cut of your balls with a dull knife and have them for breakfast tomorrow," she threatened.

Lancelot winced and held up his hands in surrender. "Hey Bors," he said, deciding to leave Luna and Tristan alone as he valued his virility. "You intend on taking Vanora and all your little bastards back home?"

Bors looked at Lancelot. "I'm trying to avoid that decision," he said. "By getting killed." He leaned over to Dagonet, shaking his head. "Dagonet," he said. "She wants to get married, give the children names."

"Women," Tristan said, earning him a hard jab in the ribs from Luna and making the knights laugh. He rubbed his side slightly before continuing. "The children already have names, don't they?"

"Just Gilly," Bors said. "It was too much trouble, so we gave the rest of them numbers."

"That's interesting. I thought you couldn't count," teased Lancelot.

Bors smiled slightly. "You know, I never thought I'd get back home alive. Now that I've got the chance, I don't think I'd leave my children."

"You'd miss them too much," said Dagonet.

Bors nodded. "I'll take them with me. I like the little bastards. They mean something to me." He paused for a while. "Especially number three," he declared. "He's a good fighter."

Lancelot smirked. "That's because he's mine."

Gawain nearly spat out his drink as the knights and Luna laughed. Bors merely looked disgruntled. "I'm going for a piss," he muttered, standing up and walking away.

xxx

Tristan pensively observed his hawk. The wild creature was flying above the forest canopy, now that it had stopped raining. Her wings were dark against the pale full moon, as she soared on the wind, with nothing to hold her back. 'That might be what freedom is like.'

He sighed deeply. For fifteen long years he had craved for the freedom long denied to him, and now it was so close, just a few days on horseback away, and he was having second thoughts about leaving.

Because for her.

He would be damned if he was the only knight re-thinking his decision to return to Sarmatia because of Luna. The girl was their closest friend besides each other, and even he; the silent and unemotional scout, had grown to like the proud and fierce woman.

'And what a woman.'

Tristan suddenly shot up from his comfortable place, staring wide-eyed at the dark in shock. Did he just think that? Not possible. 'I don't like women,' he told himself firmly. "I don't," he said quietly.

"You don't what?" asked a voice. Tristan didn't turn around. He knew who it was. Only one person out of all of them had soft footfalls and a voice like that.

Luna sat down next to him, smiling gently. "When I see someone talking to himself, I get curious," she said teasingly, leaning her head against his shoulder again. Tristan leaned his head against hers.

"I don't like this mission," he said unemotionally, grateful for the quick excuse. He really did not want to tell his closest friend that he was thinking more than friendly things about her.

Luna sighed. "Neither do I. But then again, if it means your freedom…" she trailed off.

"Yes," Tristan said. "Freedom."

"What's it like to fly?" Luna asked all of a sudden, staring at the hawk that fluttered thru the trees. "Is it as free, as liberated as the birds claim?"

Tristan half-smiled. "I imagine it would be something like that," he replied. "But how would you know what the birds claim?"

"Why would they spend so much time doing something if it pleases them not?" Luna answered. There was a moment of comfortable silence before Luna spoke again."When you are free, will you go home?"

"Yes," Tristan answered. "I will. And you? Will you go home, once you are free?"

Luna smiled. "Going home makes you free, does it not?"

"I suppose."

"Then I am already free, for I am home."

xxx

This is slightly shorter than normal. Next chapter will be longer.

About the Tristan/Luna ship: If any of you think that their relationship is going too fast (Tristan thinking that he likes Luna, etc.), please remember that they have known each other for fifteen years. And in all that time, neither of them made a move. About time, don't you think?

I realize Tristan may be slightly OOC in this one, but look at the part of the A/N above that is bold and italicized.

Pronunciation of some names:

Ayny (Ahy-nee)

Dharyl (Dha-ril)