Disclaimer: I only own Isulet, Tempest and Morgan. Yay, Morgan time! I don't own any of the songs featured either. For the boy who runs up to Arthur in the village, I can't remember his name, so I made up a random name.

Chapter 6

The knights came out as the first flakes of snow were falling. Isulet only just noticed the strange rubble house that was off to one side of the wall. Two monks in brown habits were standing in front of the door, doing something. There were two guards overseeing the monk's work, and they weren't pleased with how the work was going. Isulet visibly recoiled when she sensed the familiar aura of death. Intrigued she began to walk over, all the time under the watchful gaze of Gawain and the Roman guards. Seemingly Arthur was curious about exactly the same thing, as he soon followed Isulet over to the hut. There the monks were bricking up the doorway using pieces of rubble similar to the ones the hut was built of. The guards were telling the monks to work faster, when it was obvious that they were going as fast as they could do. Arthur walked up to the wall of the hut casually.

"What's in there?" he asked, indicating the hut.

"Nothing that concerns you." One of the guards said in a very impetuous tone.

"What's in there?" Arthur asked again.

The monk never got to answer Arthur, as drumbeats started up. They were carried from wherever the Saxons were by the wind, which was starting to pick up. The horses were tossing their heads; though in fear or impatience you couldn't work out. Isulet was reminded of her dream before they had set off. It came back to her even more visibly, rather than just the snatches she had been getting as they had been moving closer to the villa. Now it was even clearer in her mind than it had been the first time, as if the events were drawing ever closer.

"What's in there?" Arthur asked again. When he got no answer Arthur signalled to Dagonet.

"You can't go in there." One of the monks protested.

"I think that decision has been taken out of your hands." Lancelot said as Dagonet worked on the door with his battle axe.

"We don't have time to find out what's in there." Tristan protested.

"Listen to the drums Arthur." Galahad pleaded when Arthur didn't answer, but Arthur paid no attention to them.

"I'm curious." Was the only answer Arthur gave.

"I have a funny feeling about his." Isulet murmured, her breath misting up in front of her.

"Not scared are you?" Tristan teased.

When Dagonet had finally opened the door Arthur took a torch and passed it around the first chamber. All the knights filed in afterwards. Looking around the first chamber was a range of objects for torturing people. There were chains hanging from the ceiling, thumbscrews, irons to be heated and all manner of other instruments. Isulet was almost sick when the aura hit her. She went to recoil, but was pushed forward by Galahad, who was close behind her. Going into the building they saw some stone steps. Going down them they heard a priest muttering and there was a faint glow of candlelight. Coming out was a priest with shoulder length black hair. He seemed shocked to see the knights standing there.

"Why are you here?" the monk asked, alerting the other monk.

"Are there any alive?" Arthur asked, looking around him.

"You cannot break up the family." The second monk wailed, going to stand with the other three monks, two of which had followed the knights in.

"See if there's anyone still alive." Arthur ordered his knights, who obliged.

Angry at what was happening one of the monks ran forward to stop the knights. Lancelot took one of his swords and rammed it through the monk. The other monks backed off a bit, and Gawain went and stood in front of the other monks, mace at the ready. Indicating the other monk he said, "And if any of you moves, you'll join him." He indicated the monk on the ground. Isulet backed off from all of this. Looking around her all she could see was death. Then it hit her, all the memories of the people who had died here. She tried running, and ended up slamming into a wooden door. Looking around her in curiosity Isulet put her torch into one of the brackets and tested the door under her weight. It shifted a little, so she tried a little harder. It still didn't budge, so she threw her whole weight against it. The door moved just a little. Throwing her full weight against it again opened it fully. Her left arm was bruised for her trouble. The stench was worse down there than anywhere else, though Isulet felt strangely draw down. Taking her torch Isulet discovered a small room. In it was a rack and more of the torturing tools from upstairs. The only difference was there was a woman hanging from one set of the chains, her back badly scarred. Walking around to the front Isulet noticed that this woman was barely conscious, and had woad designs on her face. Brushing back the shoulder length hair, this was so like her own (only hers was down to her waist), she recognized the features. Looking into the bright green eyes confirmed it. The necklace was this woman's, handed to her by her mother. This was the infamous Morgan. Going back up the stairs Isulet knew she had to get help for Morgan, so she grabbed the first knight she could, which just happened to be Tristan.

"What are you doing, have you taken leave of your senses?" Tristan hissed at Isulet.

"No, this is Morgan, and she needs your help." Isulet indicated the limp form at the end of the chains.

"Isulet, are you down here?" Gawain called, holding out his torch.

"Yes I am." Isulet looked over Gawain with a smile on her face, as he looked pretty ill.

"Why did you just yank Tristan down here?" Gawain asked, finally reaching the bottom.

"We have an old friend of mine to rescue." Isulet shrugged in a non-committal way.

"But she's woad." Tristan had examined the markings on her back.

"Isulet." Morgan murmured.

"Yes, it's me Morgan. The man behind you is Tristan; he's here to help you, like me." Isulet soothed her friend.

"I am?" Tristan asked.

"Yes, why do you think I brought you down here?" Isulet asked.

"Well then, give me your sword." Tristan leaned across and took the sword out of Isulet's belt, eliciting a glare from Gawain.

"Be careful, she's in a bad state." Isulet warned.

Tristan turned around and shrugged. Then he began the task of cutting Morgan down. When she was free Isulet picked up the cuffs and gasped in shock. There were shards of glass in the cuffs, which meant Morgan would not be able to move her hands without incredible pain. Morgan moaned faintly as Tristan picked her up, making him believe what Isulet had said. Her hair fell away, revealing more wounds, these made by red hot pokers on her stomach. When Gawain saw Morgan, he tried hard not to grimace at the sight. Isulet realised, her old friend was a sight. With all her wounds and the woad dye, she wasn't exactly at her best. Morgan murmured quietly, unable to speak properly, the pain too much for her. Morgan was trying to call out for Isulet, but not succeeding. She had found her, in the place where she was told, there was no hope. Morgan had almost resigned herself to the fact that she was going to die here. It had almost been too much to hope that she would be rescued from the hellhole, but it had happened. And it had been against all the odds that it was her old friend Isulet, whom she had loved as a sister. Morgan visibly flinched when she was carried out into the light. It hurt her eyes after the half darkness that had been her world. She wanted to cry out in pain, but didn't. The man that was holding her didn't put her down, instead letting Isulet pour water down her neck, which made her cough and recoil in pain. Then Morgan let the blackness envelope her. Isulet looked up from her friend when Marius came over.

"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded.

"I could ask you the same question." Arthur intoned, looking down at the other woad he had rescued.

"These were pagans. They were to be sacrificed for their own good because they wouldn't do the work that God gave them." Marius answered, his eyes blazing with fury.

"You mean they wouldn't be your serfs." Arthur shot back, anger also burning in his eyes.

"I was meant to die with them, to show them the way. The only way for their souls to be saved is for them to be sacrificed." The monk who had been praying spoke.

"Wall them back up." Arthur ordered.

"Arthur." Lancelot protested.

"I said wall them back up." Arthur commanded, before stalking back off to the wagons.

Tristan gently carried Morgan over to one of the wagons, and laid her down with an unusual tenderness. Isulet swung herself over to Tempest, taking out of her saddlebags herbs and Morgan's necklace, which Isulet had wrapped up in a piece of rag and walked over to the wagon. Swinging herself into it she nodded at Tristan, who quickly left. Looking around there was another woad girl; the one Arthur had been holding, and a little boy, who Dagonet was looking after. Isulet went to Morgan first, as she had more wounds than the other. Tended to the burns Isulet took out a salve and rubbed it onto the burns. Then, turning Morgan over she used a different salve and rubbed that into Morgan's back. Then Isulet wound a long bandage around Morgan, before slipping a tunic over her head. Tucking blankets around her she left to see to the other two patients. By this time they had been moving a fair while, and the snow was starting to fall really badly. Arthur came in and walked over to the other woad. After checking on Morgan Isulet gave Tempest a whistle and swung herself into the leather saddle. When Tristan saw her he rode over.

"How is she?" Tristan inquired, indicating the caravan with his head.

"She's seen better days, but she'll live." Isulet smiled.

"Well, obviously, with you to heal her." Tristan seemed to trying to pay Isulet a compliment. That in itself was a small miracle.

"Tristan I thank you for the compliment, but even I can't work miracles." Isulet rolled her eyes as Lancelot rode up.

"I see you found another one." Lancelot also indicated the wagon.

"Yes, but she's in a very fragile state." Isulet seemed to be serious, when in reality she was joking.

"Ah, could you introduce us?" Lancelot asked, still gazing back at Morgan.

"Yes, but I do have to warn you, if Morgan doesn't like you, she'll make no secret of it." Isulet smiled at the astonished look on Lancelot's face.

"That is the infamous Morgan?" Lancelot asked in disbelief.

"Yes, why, were you expecting her to be a crone?" Isulet enquired.

"No of course not, it's just that I thought you said she was dead." Lancelot looked confused.

"Well, even I can be proven wrong Lancelot." Isulet was unable to control her laughter any more, which made Lancelot trot off in a bad mood.

"What did you do now?" Bors asked, looking at Isulet.

"Me, why does everyone blame me?" Isulet wailed.

"Why? Because if I know you by now, you'll never miss up a chance to have a laugh at Lancelot's expense." Bors answered.

"Bors you know what you said about Morgan?" Isulet tactfully changed the subject.

"No." Bors looked confused.

"You know you said you never wanted to meet her?" Isulet asked.

"Yes." Bors was looking thoroughly suspicious.

"Well, I think you'll have to, considering I found her." Isulet sweetly intoned.

"Gods have mercy on me!" Bors cried.

"Let's hope they will have mercy on all of us." Galahad murmured.

"She's not that bad, I was just warning Lancelot not to try anything." Isulet protested.

"We'll stop here for the night." Arthur called up from the front.

Author's notes: Well, well, another chapter up. How many more to go till it finishes? I don't rightly know. You know the drill, review if you want. Thanks to all the regulars, and the newcomers, I'm glad to hear you like my story; I won't be stopping anytime soon. Lots of love.