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Llynya woke to find the sun obscured by heavy cloud and the clearing empty. Pushing herself to her knees, she tucked her tangled brown hair behind her ears and looked around blearily: no sign of Tom or his dog, only the smouldering remains of the fire served as proof that they had ever been there at all. Stretching tentatively she winced at the pain that shot through her limbs; her muscles ached from last nights' journey, and she shivered at the chill of the wind against her dew dampened dress, tugging the shawl closer around her body.
"Tom?" She called as loudly as she dared. "Hello? Anyone? " There was no answer, no wolf-like dog bounding from the shadows, no rustle of footsteps in the crisp leaves blanketing the forest floor. What to do now? The trees around her swayed as though in sympathy, sun dappled and unfamiliar - which way had they come? Which way would take her back to whatever was left of her home? Getting to her feet and turning around slowly, Llynya tried in vain to identify some sort of landmark; something, anything, that would jog her memory. It had been dark and she had been beyond exhaustion when they had made their way here, there was no path which she could follow, and even if there had been, there was nowhere to run to. If what Tom had said was true the village was gone, all that she knew obliterated. She had no relatives in other towns that would welcome her, no money, and she was alone and lost in the middle of nowhere. Slumping to the ground Llynya wept for the first time since her mother had died, sobbing in confusion and fear and grief for those lost, and hating herself for her weakness even as she did so.
"Easy lass, less of the blubbering if you please." Toms' footsteps had been so stealthy that she had not heard him approach. Lifting her head Llynya watched the older man poke at the dying embers of the fire with a long stick, somehow rekindling it into life.
"I thought you'd gone," she said hoarsely.
Tom gave a mirthless laugh, "been a long time since a pretty girl mourned the loss of my company." The fire was burning hungrily, and he tossed a handful of tinder upon it with the casual ease that only comes to one who is used to living without comfort, rubbing his hands in the welcome warmth. Glancing at the girl curled up so tightly she seemed to be trying to disappear, he felt a pang of pity. This could not be easy for her, and for the life of him he didn't know quite what he was going to do with her. If she had relatives he would deliver her to them as swiftly as possible, and if she didn't… Well that brought up a whole bundle of problems, none of which he had any answers to. "I thought you could use the rest," he said eventually. "Besides I'm hungry, and it's best not to let Lark hunt alone."
"Lark?" Llynya looked at him in confusion.
"Behind you."
Turning around she almost smiled as the shaggy grey lurcher wandered towards her, a fat rabbit dangling from it's jaws. "Clever dog," she said softly as it dropped the animal beside her and flopped to the ground, tongue lolling in what almost looked like a self-satisfied smile. Picking up the carcass Llynya looked at Tom. "Do you have knife? If you can find something to roast it on I'll prepare it if you like."The trapper looked at her in surprise before shrugging and pulling a small knife from his belt.
"Alright," passing the knife to her he walked back into the forest in search of a suitable branch, Lark jumping up and following at his heels. Llynya watched them go before setting to work on the rabbit, skinning it as best she could with the blunt blade. Tom had not left her out here alone, that was something, but the fact remained that she needed a plan or at least some idea of what she was going to do.
Despite the circumstances, it proved to be a good meal: the rabbit was plump, it's flesh tender and sweet. Peeling a strip of meat off the bone Llynya tossed it to Lark who wolfed it down and regarded her with the hopeful expectation of a dog who recognises a soft touch when it sees one. Tom watched the exchange with a wry smile - he had raised the dog from a pup, but when it came to loyalty Lark was inclined to side with whoever fed her best. Finishing the rest of her portion and sating both her and the dogs' hunger, Llynya glanced at Tom nervously. They had not discussed what had happened, and although her stomach twisted miserably at the thought of laying bare the terrible events of last night, it would be better to know what had happened while her memory was still fresh, no matter how horrible it might be.
"Tom?" She asked hesitantly, "last night, the village…" Beths' smiling face rose unbidden in her mind and the question she had been about to ask choked in her throat.
"You mean why? Why did they attack ?" Tom swallowed the mouthful of rabbit he had been chewing thoughtfully before replying. "All I know is rumours girl, and when you travel as much as I do they don't come to mean much at all."
"But you did hear something."
Tom sighed and looked at Llynya with tired brown eyes. "Aye, I heard talk, and talk is all it was mind, that Sir Palomides was not the good Roman that his status might have suggested."
"That's ridiculous. He treated us well, he welcomed Arthur and his knights into his home, what allegiance would he have to anyone else? There is no reason for it, what would he have to gain?" Frowning in confusion, she tossed the last of the meat to the waiting dog and watched as Tom silently prodded the fire. "You have an idea don't you?" she asked quietly, "you knew what was going to happen."
"I told you before girl, I heard nothing but gossip; but yes, this time I was inclined to believe it."
"Why?" Torn between anger and horror Llynya got to her feet. "You knew of the danger and you did nothing until it was too late? You did not think to warn us? There were children there, there were good people.."
"Do you think I don't know that?" He snarled. "Gods woman, why do you think I was in Hythe? It certainly wasn't for the hunting. Palomides has been making deals with the Saxons for months now - obviously someone got wind of it, why else do you think Arthur came here? The Romans have given up on us, it won't be long before the whole bloody country turns into one giant battle ground between Saxons and Woads. Palomides thought he could profit out of it and he paid the price, unfortunately so did your village."
"You're wrong," She whispered, "he wouldn't, he couldn't."
"He could and he did." Sighing in exhausted exasperation, Tom ran his hands through his tangled hair and looked at the young girl with pity. Pretty little thing, he thought to himself, would probably clean up a treat after a bath and a change of clothing. Lucky for him that there were neither available in the forest - keeping an eye on her was one thing, he had better things to do than act as her chaperone.
"But why?" Feeling the first prickle of tears behind her eyes, Llynya swallowed hard. "If he was a traitor like you say, why didn't Arthur kill him."
"Execute the nephew of the Pope? Child you know nothing about politics. From what I have heard Arthur was a warning - he had no real power to stop Palomides. Short of tying him up and dragging him back to Rome there was nothing he could do."
"He could have…" she fell silent. Gawain had been a slave to Rome, as had his commander; their orders were followed no matter what the consequences may be: if Palomides had truly been a nephew to the Pope then he would have been nigh on untouchable. "There is no point in going back to the village is there?" she asked quietly.
"No lass. Everything living is dead and everything of value taken - there is nothing left there for you," Tom said quietly. "Do you have kin nearby? Family that would take you in?"
"No." Llynya shook her head, "my mother was an only child and my father… I don't know where he is."
"I see." Tom felt his heart sink, although if he were honest he had anticipated her response. "I have a sister, Emily, she runs a tavern in Avebury. It's not the most refined of places, but she could use a good serving girl, and I'm sure she'd take you on. That is if you'd like to try."
Llynya looked up sharply, the first flicker of hope flaring within her. "Are you sure? I've never worked in a pub before -would she really hire me?"
"'course she will," Tom grunted, "bartending's an easy job anyway. Pour the beer, take the money and make sure no-one is sick on the floor. You'll do fine."
"I'd like that. I mean I'd like to try if she'd have me." Llynya watched curiously as Tom extinguished the fire and gathered up his meagre belongings, slipping the little knife back into his belt and tucking his blanket into the small knapsack he carried. Rubbing Larks' rough head, she realised ruefully that she had nothing of her own to bring save her shawl and the grubby slip that had caused so much trouble and had probably saved her life.
"Ready?" Tom looked back at the girl briefly before setting off, the patter of footsteps letting him know that both his dog and the girl were following at his heels.
It was almost sunset before they stopped to rest. Dropping to her knees in gratitude for the break, Llynya barely noticed Tom's preoccupied expression as they settled down, the older man already hunting for tinder with a vigour that she almost envied. He must have been almost thirty years older than her, and yet it was he who had waited for her to catch up, he who had helped her scrabble over the dry stone walls that had marked a farmers' land. They had not spoken much during the journey, and Llynya wondered how long it would take them to get to Avebury. She had heard a little of the town from passing tradesmen and by all accounts it sounded a pleasant enough place, yet it seemed wrong to be moving on so quickly - to flee Hythe as though it had not been her home, to pretend the buildings were not still smouldering and the dead lying unburied in the ruins. Yawning dejectedly, she stretched her legs and looked at her companion, the question she had been meaning to ask dying upon her lips. Tom was looking up at the sky intently, his body tense and coiled as if he had read some sort of warning in the clouds. following his gaze she could see nothing but the burnt umber of the leaves above them and the faint cry of a hawk passing like a shadow above them.
"What is it?" she whispered. Glancing around she could see nothing moving in the trees, could hear no sound of hoof beats thudding through the forest. A sudden warm breath tickling the back of her neck made her jump and she scrambled to her knees, throwing her arms around the scruffy dog that had crept up behind her. "Stupid dog.," she whispered, "shouldn't creep up on.." The words died in her throat. Behind Lark a tall dark man watched her intently, a slim knife held in his hand.
"Tristan!"
Frozen to the spot, Llynya watched as Tom approached the strange man and gave him a brief one-armed embrace.
"Well met friend," the dark man replied. "What brings you this far north?"
"She does." Nodding towards the cowering girl, Tom sighed in exasperation as Llynya merely watched them with bewildered unease. "It's alright girl, he won't hurt you - he's one of Arthurs' knights."
"I mean you no harm," added Tristan kindly, mistaking her silence for terror. "You have my word that I am no threat to you or your companion."
Llynya somehow managed to stretch her mouth into a grimace, the closest thing she could muster to a smile in the face of such a shock. "Thank you Sir." Tristan. she knew that name. Gawain had spoken of him: the scout, the dark man with the hawk and the sharp eyes - Arthurs' Tristan. And if Tristan was here then Arthur was close, and if Arthur was close then… "Excuse me, " she blurted, giving a panicky cross between a nod an a curtsey, "I have to…" bounding into the undergrowth with more energy than she had displayed all day, she left the two startled men without a backwards glance.
A/N Kind of slow I'm afraid, think of it as scene setting lol. The next chapter will be more knight-centric if that's a word (and I'm pretty sure it isn't). Thanks to Carrie my lovely beta, MissBubbles, The Wild Woman and Phantom 666 for the kind reviews.