This was my first attempt at a full length story which I wrote and posted on the Fallen Knights fansite a few months ago. I have taken the liberty of re-writing some passages as when I look back now there are parts that really make me squirm and think 'Did I really write that?' LOL!(well, it was my first go and I find relief in the fact that I can look back at my work and recognise my own trashy writing and attempt to make it a little better!) But there are also moments that I am quite fond of, too.
Disclaimer: The knights do not belong to me, however much I wish it:( I make no money nor seekany from this story - it is purely for my own pleasure and hopefully some of you too. I do not apologise for the odd use of a quote here and there from the 2004 movie 'King Arthur' - they are just to darn good not to use! But I hereby aknowledge that they are not mine. Those of you who love this film as much as I, will know these lines the moment you read them.
Chapter one
The blistering, midday sun shone mercilessly down upon the two women as they raced, panting wildly across the parched & firm open ground. With the folds of their plain & simple dresses hitched up in their moist hot hands, they called & laughed to one another as they began the gentle ascent to the hilltop they had trampled countless times during their many years of friendship. They had been dear friends since early childhood. Cried together, laughed together, fought together and grown into womanhood together. For all their nineteen years, when they ran this familiar road they were like 10 year olds again and they loved it.
Upon reaching the brow of the hilltop, the two now breathless women had tumbled to the green earth and lay upon on their bellies, laughter still upon their lips. From here, they both looked out to behold the breathtaking view ahead. On the horizon, to the south, they could clearly see the long, dusty road appear. The oft travelled road that had, over the years, led many a weary traveller, company of Roman soldiers and even the occasional Roman dignitary to the colossal wooden gates of the Fortress walls.
But on this day, more than others in the past, there was a very different thrill in the air. Some weeks before, there had been whispers everywhere, that Arthur Castus and his Sarmatian knights were to garrison at the Wall.
Arthur Castus, a name that fell from everyone's lips, from the Romans and Britons of the south to the blue lips of the Woads of the north. The stories of their exploits so renowned, these knights seemed almost mythical to some and so the news of their anticipated arrival had caused quite a stir amongst the settlers and was the very reason the women had come to their favourite spot that day in order to be first to witness their appearance.
"Sarmatian knights!" Vanora cooed to her friend as they lay stretched out side by side, both resting their heads upon their hands.
She let out a sigh, gazing dreamily ahead, wrapping a lock of her beautiful long red hair around her petite fingers. For she was a true beauty and a constant, but a forbidden desire, for all the men folk and soldiers alike who longed to have her warm their beds at night.. Vanora was not unaware of the attraction she aroused in men, far from it. But she had always longed for more than just some peasant farmer or smithy for her mate.
She was not merely a beauty; she was intelligent & shrewd also. She was one lady who knew the value of virtue, especially in one as pretty as she. The imminent arrival of these both respected & feared knights was indeed, the prospect she had been waiting for.
Prue, on the other hand was quite plain in comparison to her friend. Long, dark tawny hair and eyes to match, she was not an offence to the eyes by any means but anything that may have been seen as interesting in her demeanour was always extinguished by Vanora's radiance. This had never concerned Prue; it had always just been that way.
Vanora had now sat upright and began her study of the horizon, the sun beating down upon her slender back.
"Do you think they will come this day, Prue?" she asked at length, her voice tinted with the distinct air of irritation, for Vanora was not known for her patient nature and indeed sported a temper that more than matched her flaming hair.
"That is the talk." Her friend answered with an ambiguous shrug.
Vanora huffed her impatience, finding her friend's casual attitude most irksome. But after a moment, the excitement returned to her voice as she spoke again.
"Imagine what they look like Prue!" She mused, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. "They must be such handsome, fine men. Oh, the stories I've heard! They say they are from lands far across the sea, Prue. The sons of mighty Eastern Kings!"
Prue laughed heartily as she sat pulled herself up and claimed her place by her friend's side.
"And wear armour of pure gold, I'm sure!" she teased.
Vanora frowned at her friend's joshing and then added with a churlish tone and a curt toss of her pretty red head "Well, what would you know about it, anyway?"
"They will have the faces of soldiers, Vanora, battle scarred and weary. And they will drink and whore in our tavern, just like any other." Prue replied light-heartedly but as cynical as always.
Vanora's red head snapped round as she shot her friend an angry glare.
"Well…..they must be better than the pox ridden rabble around here, Prue, surely!" She hollered in desperation.
Prue smiled at her companion, but did not answer.
Prue, ever the calm, rational element of their friendship, always managed to bring the often harsh sense of reality to Vanora's dreams. Not from being the bearer of a joyless heart and certainly not from spite. Prue had her own fair share of fruitless hopes and dreams, locked secretly within and indeed, was just as excited at the prospect of the forthcoming arrival of Arthur and his Knights as Vanora. But being forever in the shadow of a vibrant, beautiful friend had over time brought Prue to see that her own dreams were just that - dreams that would never be fulfilled. Such circumstances would have rendered a lesser friend, bitter and resentful but instead Prue had just become practical and non-expectant of life.
Silence fell between them once more as the two friends sat in contemplation of what the unfolding day might bring. The warm summer breeze gently caressed their faces and the hot sun flamed upon their backs. They remained as such for sometime.
Without warning, their quiet & thoughtful mood was shattered by the sound of Vanora's excited yell
"Look Prue!… They come!"
Sure enough, there they were, shadowed against the sunlight on the horizon. Prue felt a sudden jump in her heart as excitement returned to her body with a rush.
They gazed upon the approaching riders for a little time without words or motion.
"I see only seven riders, Prue; could that be all of them?" Vanora shot a quizzical look at her friend who simply shrugged in reply.
"Come on! Let's run down and get a better look"
Not waiting for Prue's reply, Vanora galloped off down the hillside with Prue chasing close behind her.
When the women reached the road, they stood side by side eagerly watching the approaching horsemen. Slowly, as the riders grew closer, Vanora's mouth began to twist in slight confusion & bewilderment. These seven knights were the most bedraggled, filthy bunch of saddle tramps she had ever seen! With the exception of the commander and perhaps the dark knight by his side - misfits! No livery to speak of and what leather armour they wore soiled with the unmistakable pain and bloodshed of recent conflict. This was not what Vanora had expected, not what she had expected at all!
The weary warriors rode along in shabby formation, one or two at a time, and were now approaching near to the place at which the women were stood. Vanora regarded them beneath a dark, disappointed frown and then exclaimed far too loudly than was fitting
"These are the great army of Sarmatian knights!"
Prue giggled a touch nervously lest the men had overheard her friend's remark and added quietly "Princely sons of eastern kings, 'ey Vanora?"
The first of the knights now approached, their commander Arthur whosat tall & proud in his seat at the helm of the troop. Prue considered him closely as despite their first thoughts to the contrary, his noble radiancewas felt socommanding, that both women almostdropped to thedusty roadin a respectful curtsy.
As Arthur rode by, not once moving his head from the view forward, he momentarily cast his eyes down to where the women stood & Prue swore she saw a faint knowing smile whisper across his lips. She felt her cheeks begin to glow at the knowledge that he had indeed heard Vanora's discourteous remark.
The dark knight riding just a little behind the commander turned his head to look directly down at them. Prue regarded with amusement, his handsome face, untidy mop of black curls & dark, devil-may-careeyes.
He bowed a simple gallant greeting towards them.
"Ladies" he said slowly and smiled such a wicked smile that Prue was sure he was imagining what they both looked like beneath their smocks! The colour rose furiously to her cheeks & she quickly looked away from him.
Further down the formation rode a giant of a man. Prue could see that his fine-looking shaven head was marred by a cruel looking scar that ran the length of his face. He too, smiled at the women but did not speak.
Next her eyes rested upon a smaller but powerful looking knight. His long, flaxen hair sporting wild braids & a whiskered face, gave him the look of a proud lion. He rode along laughing loudly at some unheard jest or other, not paying any heed to the audience by the roadside.
But Prue found her attention drawn inexplicably to a rider taking up the back of the troop.
The man that commanded her notice was bent slightly forward in his saddle, hand to his mouth he seemed to Prue to be licking at his blood spoiled knuckles as his body swayed to & fro with the rhythm of his handsome, grey stallion's steady strides.
"Must you do that, Tristan?" came an appeal from the youngest looking of the Knights who was riding by his side. The abhorrence in his voice was clear for all to hear but the one to whom it was aimed, simply replied in a very distinct but low, austere tone
"You should try it someday; you might get a taste for it"
The remark was quickly followed by the chuckles of the others & general good natured banter began. The young knight shot a brief look of disgust toward the man once more, and then urged his mount on in order to elude his obvious repulsion.
On the contrary, Prue was held mesmerised by the knight named Tristan. She had no idea why exactly. He was different than the others, she sensed that immediately. Not just in his looks, which she found strangely pleasing, but his whole demeanour. To Prue, his manner seemed rather detached from his comrades, serious & slightly edgy - dangerous almost.
He did not laugh or join in with the others carefree chatter, but instead, lifted his handsome, rugged face to the sky and whistled long & loud. Startled slightly by his unexpected call, Prue watched, smiling now, as he stretched out his long slender arm towards the blue skies. When she looked up to where he aimed, she caught sight of a magnificent hawk. The creature let out a piercing cry of salutation and then swooped down in almost total silence, landing gracefully upon the man's gauntleted hand.
Tristan was now approaching the spot where Prue stood transfixed. As he caressed the bird's velvet breast, she heard him utter gentle words of affection under his breath.
"Where you bin, now? Where you bin?"
As she watched, she saw the ghost of a smile kiss the sharp rugged features of his whiskered face & Prue thought it the most beautiful face she had ever seen.
As Tristan went by, he glanced down briefly at the woman who stood smiling & watching him. As if by instinct, their eyes met.
Strangely, the woman held his gaze and for a moment Tristan was fascinated when the usual sense of unease failed to grace her plain but not altogether displeasing features. Instead, he found the woman to be smiling at him. A genuine, warm smile, something that Tristan rarely inspired in those that he met, especially women, accepting those he paid for of course and their spurious smiles were of no interest to him.
'She is not beautiful' the Scout thought to himself as he rode by, 'But……'
That the question of her beauty had come to him at all slightly troubled the scout. Women & their attractions were never of any concern to him. They served a purpose when a man's need required it, beyond that; physical beauty was of no importance to this knight.
But, the moment of contemplation was brief and so it passed him by almost unnoticed. Any memory that it had ever existed at all was swiftly pushed aside & dismissed as he continued on to his journeys end.
It had not passed by unnoticed for Prue, though. Her heart had leapt when his gaze had met hers.
She had not seen a chilling promise of death lurking there, as many another before her had seen. Nor did she see a cold, empty soul that lingered long after the killing was done. She saw radiance in those eyes, dark & mysterious - shrouded, but not hidden, by long ruffled locks which caressed his fine, ornamented cheek bones. She was totally lost in his gaze and could not look away. Captivated & at the mercy of this unusual man. She wanted to speak, but could find no words. She wanted to reach up and touch him, but could not move. For a woman like Prue, attraction such as this was thought to be the fancy of fairytales. Before this moment, she believed it could not even exist. It was as if unseen hands had reached within and curled their fingers tightly around her soul.
Suddenly, the spell he wove was shattered as quickly as it had been cast, by the sound of Vanora's high pitched laughter. She was now a little away from Prue, walking alongside the horse of a rather stout, shaven headed knight. He was bellowing loudly & Vanora, whose previous disappointment seemed now forgotten, was clearly taken by his attention.
She heard him laugh "Do ya like apples, my pretty Lady, Do ya? Cos I gotta a lovely apple tucked away that I wouldn't mind sharing with ya!"
The knowing laughter among the men was not lost on Vanora, as she slapped his thigh in mock affront & laughed cheekily back at him. Prue stood motionless watching her friend as she continued her mischievous & coy flirtation with the man. Her eyes then rested on the back of retreating Scout. Prue knew her ordinary and non-expectant life was destined, never be the same again.
She watched and waited. But he never looked back.