Disclaimer: I only own Isulet in this chapter, oh yeah and I also own Tempest, so hands off. I don't own the song in this chapter, or the songs in future chapters, so please don't sue.

Chapter 3

Isulet woke in the late hours of darkness. She had that nightmare again. It was the third time this night. What was it telling her? Was it warning her? Why her? She didn't want her powers that much she was certain of. She had seen her old friend die when she was younger. She saw her mother die in the woad raid. So did her friend Morgan. Morgan was the only person who had understood her truly. You felt that Morgan was like Isulet, never truly there. The two had been separated when the woad raid happened in her village. Her mother died, and so did Morgan. How she wished she had found a friend like Morgan again. But she hadn't. Carefully Isulet walked over to her mirror. Her pale skin showed up milky white when the light of the oil lamp hit it. Her black hair shimmered with gold in the light. Her eyes looked haunted by the dream she had just had.

It started when they were walking across a frozen lake with wagons for the people unable to walk. Isulet could hear drums that were bringing the sense of dread closer. Arthur told everyone to spread out, which they did. When they were crossing the ice groaned under their feet. They crossed to the other side safely and they got their arrows ready. There were the seven knights and Isulet with two other women. Then they see a large regiment of foot soldiers marching onto the ice. The Saxon leader halts his men and tries to fire an arrow. It is out of range. But everyone knows a trick, and so they fire. They make the men bunch together, to try and break the ice. But the ice isn't breaking. In the end Dagonet took his battle axe and ran to the ice and started hacking at it. He gets shot, but carries on. Isulet goes to stop him, but she feels herself falling into darkness. That's when she wakes up, drenched in sweat and panicking.

Isulet slipped out of her nightgown and into her travelling clothes. First on went tight fitting trousers which came down and tucked into her deerskin lined boots. Next went on a shirt followed by a leather jacket. Next on went her armour, which came down to her hips. It was leather with pieces of metal sewn on, which were overlapping. Next was her hair. First she carefully brushed it and then she plaited it, tying it up expertly with red ribbons, some of which she plaited into her hair, which were left free to trail in the wind. Then walking out she went and stood on the wall. She noticed she wasn't the only one watching the sunrise. Gawain turned and smiled at her. She smiled back and turned back to the sunrise. The ribbons flew back in the early morning breeze and Gawain caught one, toying with it. She teasingly pulled her hair away turning to face him.

"What are you doing up so early?" Isulet asked teasingly.

"I feel something's coming, something big." Gawain seemed uneasy.

"You, Gawain, afraid?" she asked teasingly, and then added, "But seriously I feel it to."

"I expected you to feel something, not me." He looked up into the rapidly lightening sky. His hair was black fading through to dark blonde. His blue eyes were very expressive when he wanted them to be. Teasingly Isulet caught a strand of his hair and twisted it between her fingers. Then it was his turn to pull away. He turned to look at her.

"Gawain, you know what you said last night?" Isulet said fiddling with one of her ribbons.

"Yes?" Gawain turned to her his eyes deadly serious.

"I was thinking...what happened, did it matter?" Isulet seemed hesitant for once in her life.

"Well, I suppose it did depending on what you want to make of it." Gawain leaned slightly closer.

"I don't know what to think." She looked confused and slightly scared.

"Well, let's take it as it comes shall we?" Gawain started fiddling with one of the ribbons. This time Isulet didn't pull away. But she just returned his steady gaze.

"I think we should see to our horses." Isulet said, finally breaking Gawain's gaze.

"But we're not going to be going...oh. Yes let's go see to the horses." Gawain followed Isulet to the stables.

The two entered the dimness of the stable. There was a distinct smell of horse in the air; after all, it was a stable. Tempest whickered when he saw his mistress and Isulet walked over to him, obligingly taking him out and beginning to brush him. His black coat shone white where the light from the stable door hit him, making him seem larger and grander than ever. Isulet began singing a lullaby to soothe Tempest. He seemed to melt underneath her hands, turning and lifting his foot so his mistress could brush him and clean his hooves better. After she had finished she turned to see Gawain watching and smiling at her. It was true, Isulet was never calmer than when she was with Tempest. All the tensions of the night seemed to slip away from her as Tempest scraped a hoof on the turf floor for a carrot. If he could speak he would be saying, please give me something, I've been a good boy. So taking an apple she gave him what he wanted. After she had finished she turned and smiled at Gawain. Tempest gave a loud whinny, which made the two laugh.

"You're never happy unless you're in the centre of attention, are you Tempest?" Isulet asked him, holding onto his lead rope.

"He's a beautiful horse." Gawain came and stood just behind Isulet.

"Yes, but at times he can be a right terror. He has to have things his way." She explained, reaching out a hand to pat Tempest's face.

"Sounds like someone I know." Gawain said, a smile forming.

"Who? Oh, you mean Lancelot."

"No, I think the person in question is standing incredibly close to me." Gawain stood back as Isulet suddenly decided to move Tempest in his direction.

"I didn't mean it." He protested as Isulet went and got Tempest's tack.

"Oh yes? And Tempest reminds me a bit of you. You both want attention." Isulet was getting her own back. But the look on Gawain's face stopped her and he caught her around the waist and held her close.

"I didn't mean it." Isulet protested exactly like Gawain had, which just made him laugh. She kept struggling and trying to get away, but he wasn't letting her. She stopped struggling and laid her head on his chest. After a while Tempest whinnied loudly and Isulet disentangled herself and went to see what the matter was.

"Are you feeling left out?" Isulet asked patting the beautiful horse's face.

"Lucky horse." Gawain murmured.

"What ever do you mean Gawain? If I didn't know any better then I would say you were jealous." Isulet swung away and went back to stand in front of him.

"Well, he does seem to be getting all the attention around here." Gawain looked down at Isulet, who smiled at him.

"I have two jealous men on my hands, if I don't give one attention he moans, and vice-versa. So what's a poor girl to do?" Isulet cocked her head and looked up innocently into Gawain's eyes. In answer Gawain leaned forward and gently kissed her. She curled her hand up around his neck and leaned in closer. After a while they both pulled back.

"Well, I think we better see where everyone else's got to." Isulet said, going to the stable door and looking out.

"I'll hazard a guess that they're not up." Gawain said, looking at the back of Isulet's head.

"Oh, I think they are." She said, turning back to face him, a sly smile on her face. In the next few minutes all the knights entered the stables and started to get their horses ready.

A few minutes later the group had all prepared their horses and were riding out. As they rode down to the gates the guards were pulling open the gates using two black shire horses. Then the group were through and had started their mission. This would be the last time they would exit through these gates as they set off on a mission. Isulet looked back at the gates. We shouldn't be doing this, she thought as she urged Tempest on. No-one wanted to go on this mission, least of all Isulet. The dream she had was still hanging over her head like a black cloud that she couldn't shake. She had a feeling that this time the dream was going to happen, no matter what anyone said. Like her friend Morgan once said, you can't cheat death more than once. But oh how much Isulet wished that you could. I wish you were here Morgan, Isulet sent out a silent message. Arthur turned back and saw his sister; smiling Isulet spurred Tempest on to catch up to Arthur. Riding beside her brother she noticed that he looked tired.

"Bad night?" Isulet asked nothing unkind in her voice.

"Yes, Isulet I'm worried." Arthur looked upset.

"You're always worried at the start of a mission, you know that, it always turns out well." She seemed to be comforting her brother.

"I know that, but Isulet did you have any premonitions?" Arthur turned to his sister, who lowered her gaze to avoid his.

"I had a nightmare, that's all. I'm sure it meant nothing." She seemed to be trying to be making light again.

"Isulet, you would tell me if anything was worrying you?" He asked.

"Yes of course I would."

"It's just that I worry about you, and I haven't always been there for you, sometimes when you needed me." He seemed to be sorry.

"Don't worry, besides, there's always been someone around to help me." She seemed to have improved her mood.

"I just feel that I've been a bad brother, I did nothing about your husband..."

"There was nothing you could have done, and at least you tried, no-one else did." She interrupted him.

"I should have found a way to deal with it. What I mean to say is I intend to be around for you if you need me."

"Thank you, you haven't exactly deserted me you know." She leaned across to give her brother a hug.

"Hey, what about the rest of us?" Bors shouted from behind. Isulet smiled.

"Are you sure you want one?" She asked pulling Tempest in to wait until Bors caught up.

"Yes please." Bors said as Isulet leaned across to give the older man a hug.

"And us." The knights all chorused in unison. Isulet gave everyone a hug, stopping to ruffle Galahad's hair, much to his consternation.

"Hey, I'm not a kid you know." He protested.

"Yes you are you're a pup compared to all of us." Bors shouted over his shoulder.

"You make me sound so old." Isulet protested.

"And I'm only 25." Galahad added.

"You are old, considering you're single." Bors answered Isulet.

"Oh yes, and I'll have you know I'm the second youngest, and you're the oldest, so you're the one to speak." Isulet ducked to avoid Bors' arm.

"And on the subject of being single, when are you likely to come to your senses and marry me?" Lancelot politely enquired of Isulet.

"I think if I married you I would have to lose my senses. I would much rather marry Gawain." Isulet reined Tempest in so she could talk to Gawain.

"Did you really mean what you said to Lancelot?" Gawain asked, his question sounding admonishing.

"Yes I did. I'm not about to admit that I love you am I?"

"Well you could." Gawain seemed to stiffen.

"Gawain, I didn't mean anything by it. You could look on it as a compliment." Isulet was trying hard to break the ice.

"Well, yes, I suppose I can. Alright, I forgive you for now." Gawain smiled. Isulet smiled back, her happiness to much to contain.

"Here, come back down to earth little missy." Bors called, on seeing Isulet's face.

"Now you make me sound like I'm one of your children." Isulet protested.

"I give up! What am I supposed to call you?" Bors asked, throwing his hands up in the air.

"Well, I suppose you could get away with just calling me Isulet." Isulet answered, making everyone smile.

"That's as good a name as any." Tristan added, much to everyone's shock.

"It's the name I was given, so I fully intend to use it." Isulet was enjoying the mock battle.

"Another piece of sound philosophy from Isulet, I think she would have done better as a philosopher." Gawain joked.

"Where's the chivalry gone from this group?" Isulet wailed.

"It's where it's always been." Lancelot answered.

"Oh yes? So your idea of chivalry is leaving a maiden unprotected?" Isulet asked, smiling.

"I think this maiden is more than capable of fighting her own battles." Lancelot looked over at Isulet, who stuck her tongue out at him.

"Isulet, manners." Arthur admonished, looking around from the front.

"Come on now Arthur, we were only having a bit of a laugh." Bors stuck up for Isulet.

"I take it chivalry's not dead then." Isulet smiled at Bors.

When they reached the top of the earth embankment that protected the wall Isulet looked back. The sun was fully up now, and tendrils of smoke were curling up into the early morning sky. People were starting to get up and ready for the day's work that was ahead of them. How she wished that they could be down there preparing for the journey home that was ahead of them. But they weren't, so she had to make the best out of her situation. The best was that she was young and had her life ahead of her, she was travelling with the best soldiers and men their side of the wall, she was in love, she had something of a family and she had her freedom to look forward to. Looking forward all she saw was green forests with mountains in the far distance. It was a miracle you could see that far, usually looking north you saw grey clouds hanging suspended in the air.

"Well, here we are then." Bors said, trying to make light of the situation, but everyone was too lost in their own thoughts to care.

Everyone was worried that this mission was going to be their last. You could tell from the looks on their faces. But Arthur had the most worries. He sat looking around him, at the knights and at the scenery around them. He was surprised to see that the promising morning had turned very quickly to fog the further into the woad country they went. He was worrying about his sister. When he had talked to her she had pretended that nothing was wrong, though he knew there was. He tended to know when she was lying. A thought came into his head; perhaps Isulet was trying to protect him. He hoped she would confide in someone, hopefully him, but if not he wouldn't be too upset. Looking round he saw his sister deep in conversation with Gawain. Could it be that she was in love? But no, Arthur thought, she would be careful who she married, if ever she married again. He hated himself for forcing her into her first marriage. She had been carrying the scars from his mistake for the past four years. Oh how he hated himself for that. Whatever Isulet said it was his fault, he had let her marry, and when she was only just out of childhood as well. No wonder she had developed a tough shell. But finally the knights were starting to break through. The first two years Arthur had taken Isulet on his missions to protect her, the last two years she had been coming on them of her own accord. Lancelot trotted up to Arthur.

"I would like to speak to you." Lancelot said.

"I can see that, but about what?" Arthur enquired.

"Your sister Isulet." Arthur visibly tensed.

"What about her?" he asked, looking over at his companion.

"You must know I admire her, and would like to marry her." Lancelot said.

"Well, why are you talking to me about it? You should be asking Isulet about this." Arthur pointed out.

"I just wanted to know if I would have your consent, if we married." Lancelot looked slightly uncomfortable.

"Yes you would. But only if Isulet agrees, I'm not going to force her into another marriage." Lancelot looked upset.

"I understand." Lancelot turned his horse so he could ride alone.

Damn it, Lancelot thought. What chance do I have now? Isulet all but hates me, and she's in love with Gawain. There were plenty of other girls around, some who would be more than willing to marry him. So maybe I should try and make Isulet jealous, Lancelot thought, and then she'll come running. But that was a bit of a gamble, considering that's what he always did. So maybe he should not go after anyone, and not talk about it. That would probably be a good idea. But Isulet had fallen for Gawain. And he wasn't exactly quiet about his conquests. Lancelot looked round at Isulet, who was trying desperately to avoid singing.

"Come on, just one song." Bors was pleading.

"You have such a lovely voice." Dagonet spoke up, smiling at Isulet, who was adamant.

"No, I don't want to sing."

"Just one song?" Tristan asked.

"Oh, alright." Isulet said, cleared her throat and began to sing.

Exile

By Enya

Cold as the northern winds

in December mornings,

Cold is the cry that rings

far from this distant shore.

Winter has come too late.

Too close beside me.

How can I chase away

All these fears deep inside.

I'll wait the signs to come

I'll find a way.

I will wait the time to come.

I'll find a way home.

My light shall be the morn

And my path- the ocean.

My guide the morning

As I sail home to you.

I'll wait the signs to come.

I'll find a way.

I will wait the time to come.

I'll find a way home.

Who then can warm my soul?

Who can quell my passion?

Out of these dreams- a boat

I will sail home to you.

All the knights listened to the song, feeling the sadness of the song drifting through them. It was a song reminding them of the promise of freedom and their homeland. Isulet's voice rang clear, sounding gentle and soothing, touching the souls of the men and giving them heart. It seemed to solidify the promise of the home from which the knights had left. The men wanted to go home; they had spent too much time fighting for Rome. And now, for their freedom to be revoked, well it was enough to test your loyalty to the hilt. The men wanted to go home, see what they had left behind all those years ago. Many would probably find things changed drastically, and their families gone. Through all the years, even now, one of the things that had kept them going was the promise of home. They had spent too much time from home, in this enforced service of the Roman Empire. And now the Empire was dying. The air seemed to whisper it, the land accepted it. The Romans were leaving, leaving behind the stone monuments that had taken so long to build.

As Isulet finished she looked around at the other knights. They had enjoyed the song, she knew they would. It had been taught to her, as so many songs had been, by her mother when they sat around the fire on the cold winter's evenings, with the wind knocking at the door, and the snow like a blanket on the ground. Whenever she sang a song she pulled the image of her mother close, as she had been in those days. With the firelight licking on her black hair she would sit in her chair, Isulet at her feet, and sing songs. After a while Isulet would pick up the tune and join in, especially with songs she knew off by heart. Songs were all Isulet had of her mother, and how she wished she had more. But when times were hard, and the going tough, all Isulet had to do was to sing and she would be home again, in her childhood home.

"That was beautiful." Gawain said.

"I know it was you just can't describe the things that it made you feel." Galahad seemed to be confused.

"Well, whatever it was it was haunting." Dagonet answered.

Authors note: Well, another chapter. I'm also updating chapter 1, so if you have any suggestions, please get in contact. I don't bite. Thanks for all the lovely reviews. Review if you want.