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Llynya woke before Gawain did, but careful not to disturb him from his slumber, she ignored her sore muscles and kept still. He smelled of sweat and damp leather, his breath a faint plume in the cold morning air. Twisting her head slightly, she studied his face. His pale hair was tangled with her dark tresses and she smiled a little at the contrast - different colours, different souls, different lives. His eyes were closed and his body relaxed, the warmth of his arm a solid comfort around her waist. A little unnerved by the surge of affection that rose within her, Llynya dropped her eyes and turned her attention to the rest of the campsite, tucking her hands into her lap.
The other knights were either asleep or dozing around the fire - only Tristan seemed alert. He had given her a brief smile when she had awakened and then ignored her completely, his keen eyes fixed on the forest around them. Beside him Bors stretched sleepily and rubbed a big hand over his face, struggling to sit up. He yawned widely and grinned at her, and Llynya smiled back. He had saved her life the night before, and she was a little ashamed of her behaviour when they had first met. Uncouth he may be, but the heart that beat beneath the boorish exterior was kind and true. Glancing at the sleeping knight beside her, she pretended to roll her eyes and was gratified when Bors snorted with laughter.
"Best to let him sleep lass, he's a grumpy git in the mornings."
She suppressed a giggle and watched as the stocky knight drank deeply from his water skin.
"Thank you. For what you did last night I mean." As an expression of gratitude it wasn't particularly eloquent, but Bors didn't seem to mind.
"You're welcome." With a wink he wandered over to Gawain and gave him a none too gentle nudge in the ribs with his boot. "Some of us know how to take care of a lady."
"Vanora will be thrilled to hear that," Gawain muttered sleepily. Squinting as the light hit his tired eyes, he pushed Bors' leg away. "Haven't you got anything better to do than annoy my charge?"
"Your charge?" Bors lifted his eyebrows in mock surprise. "Was this Arthurs' request? A Roman order perhaps? Some sort of divine…"
"If you don't shut up I'll castrate you with my axe, and Vanora will probably thank me for it." Gawain unhooked his weapon from his belt and wearily pointed it at the large bald man. "There are quite enough of your offspring roaming the country without you attempting to seduce Llynya."
Bors laughed and winked at his friend, "didn't see her complaining though did you?" With a wicked grin he wandered off to find Dagonet, leaving Llynya torn between amusement and outrage, and Gawain to hurl several expletives at his retreating back.
"I wasn't… I mean…" Llynya blushed and twisted her fingers in her skirts. "I was just thanking him that's all."
"Pay no mind to him," chuckling at her embarrassment he got to his feet. "If he's teasing you then it means he likes you - although I'd keep it in mind that he already has eleven children before considering him as a suitor."
"Eleven?" Llynya blinked and tried to imagine giving birth to so many offspring. "She must be as strong as he is."
"Aye, and a lot smarter as well. What she's doing with that old oaf is beyond me." The words were harsh, but his tone was amused. "Nonetheless, they do seem to have a certain amount of affection for each other."
"Vanora is his wife?"
"Not yet. Bors is stubborn, but unless he's entirely stupid he'll be married by the end of the year."
"They have eleven children and they are not wed?" Sheltered as she had been in her small village, Llynya tried to make sense of this. "Don't people talk? Doesn't she mind?"
"People talk and I suppose she minds." Gawain shrugged, "We do not live easy lives - our duty is to Arthur, and his duty is to Rome. It is not fair to drag others into our world."
"But you do. All of you do." Llynya looked at him with troubled eyes, "if there is nothing but duty in your life then why did you come to me?"
Gawain sighed heavily. Behind him the dawn had gilded the trees and softened the slaughter of last nights' battleground, the pale light concealing the blood stains and turning the blond knights' hair to wildfire. "You have seen battle now Llynya, would you be able to fight if you had nothing to fight for?"
"Everything I love is gone, and I am no warrior." Llynya suppressed her feelings viciously and tried not to look at him. "I have no desire to fight and nothing to fight for."
"I see." For a moment something flickered in Gawains' eyes, and Llynya fought the urge to take her words back. She was tired, she was hungry, her shoulder hurt, and snapping at him was the only thing that was keeping her from bursting into tears. Picking up a twig from the ground beside her, she pulled at the bark and put it down again.
"You can go if you like. I don't need you to look after me."
"If that is what you want." Llynya did not look up, but she heard the crunch of his boots on the ground as he walked away, feeling her stomach twist in misery as he did so. With a soft whump a small loaf of bread landed beside her, and she looked up to see Gawain wandering off, feigning ignorance of the food he had thrown to her. With a smile and a muttered "thank you", to his retreating back, she broke the bread as best she could ,and wolfed it down with a lack of refinement that even Lark would have found rude.
"Lady?" Dagonet's voice was polite, but he could not hide the mirth that softened his stern expression. "I take it that you have recovered your appetite?"
Glancing up, Llynya blushed and swallowed the mouthful with difficulty. For a moment she looked at the big man with horrified embarrassment, before the insanity of the situation caused her to give a most unladylike snort of laughter. Struggling to regain her composure, she wiped her eyes and shook her head in mortification. "Forgive me sir, there really is no excuse."
Dagonet gave a harsh bark of a laugh, his eyes narrowed with amusement. "No need to apologise." Kneeling before her, he stretched out a big hand, gesturing towards her shoulder. "I should check the bandage." Llynya nodded in acquiescence, looking away as he pulled her dress down over her shoulder and undid the dressing. Determined not to wince, she concentrated on the men gathered at the other side of the clearing. There was Galahad, laughing at something that Bors had said, there was Arthur, tall and imposing, his face troubled. The unfamiliar dark haired man stood beside him, his twin swords shining in the sunlight. Lancelot. It must be: she had heard stories of him, and watched curiously as he turned to Tom, obviously as familiar with her travelling companion as the other knights had been. Back in her village Tom had been rarely mentioned and seldom seen, preferring the solitude of the forest to the bustle of the taverns, and yet here he was talking with Rome's finest warriors with an ease that he had never displayed amongst the villagers. He had mentioned being a horse breeder before, that must be where they knew each other from, but it was strange nonetheless - how did he come to be little more than a hermit? Preoccupied by her thoughts she barely noticed when Dagonet retied the bandage and settled her dress back into place.
"All done."
She looked up startled. "Already?"
"Aye." He looked a little gratified by the unintentional compliment, and getting to his feet he held out a hand to help her up. "We must be off soon - do you know how to ride?"
Llynya bit her lip nervously. "I know how to - it's the staying on part that I tend to have trouble with. I haven't really had much practise to be honest."
"I see." With a thoughtful look, Dagonet ushered her over to the other knights before she had a chance to protest.
"Llynya needs a horse," he stated plainly. "Mine carries enough weight as it is, it would be best if she travelled with one of you."
Llynya looked at Dagonet with horrified disbelief before glancing at the men before her. Galahad was laughing, nudging Bors he whispered something into his ear, causing the older man to smirk in a frankly lascivious manner. Looking hurriedly away, she met Arthurs' eyes and felt the blood rush to her cheeks. Not him, she thought in panic, farm girls are not supposed to share the saddle with Roman officers. "I'm quite happy to walk, thank you…" She began nervously, "I don't want to cause any trouble."
"Bit late for that now girl." Lancelot ran his eyes over her appraisingly, his dark eyes studying her without any hint of embarrassment. Any minute now he's going to run a hand down my legs and check my teeth, thought Llynya , trying to control her indignation. I'm not a bloody brood mare.
"She can ride with me." Pulling his horse forward, Lancelot beckoned to Llynya. "Come on girl, I won't let you fall off."
"I would prefer not to." Feeling the hot surge of irritation rising within her, Llynya took a step backwards and almost fell over Dagonets' foot. Recovering herself, she ignored Galahads' undisguised mirth, and tossed her head defiantly. "I am quite capable of walking."
"I see." Lancelot did not look in the least put out. "And are you also capable of keeping up with a galloping horse for several miles?"
"I…" She glared at him angrily, trying and failing to come up with a suitable argument.
"Llynya rides with me." Grabbed around the waist, she found herself atop a familiar grey horse before she had time to protest. Looking down at the ground dubiously, she tried sliding sideways before being firmly pulled back by the big man who swung up into the saddle behind her.
"Where do you think you're going?" Gawain wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her tight against his body. "Every time I let you out of my sight you get into trouble - I'm not having you scampering around the forest, and you certainly aren't sharing a saddle with Lancelot."
"Why not." Hunching her shoulders, Llynya did her best to prevent any part of her body from touching his. "I don't belong to you, I may ride with whomever I please."
"You didn't seem so keen a moment ago." Gawains' voice was low, his breath warm on the exposed skin of her neck. Torn between irritation and hopelessness, Llynya watched the other knights mount their horses and pretended not to hear him. With a defiant shout, Arthur dug his heels into his stallions' flanks and set off at a gallop, the knights following hard at his heels. Wrapping her fingers in the horses' mane, Llynya finally abandoned any pretence at hostility and hung on for dear life, thankful of Gawains steadying arm around her waist.
The forest flitted past in a blur of green and gold, the shadowy woodland giving way to open meadows and blue sky. It was a little like flying, thought Llynya, her fingers damp with the sweat from the horses' neck and her heart thundering in her chest. Gawain was hot and solid and safe behind her, and despite herself she smiled, losing herself in the giddy euphoria of their speed.
"Not so afraid now?" Were his mouth not mere inches from her ear she would not have heard him, and even as she smiled, she knew that any response would be swallowed by the wind. Instead she leaned back a little, relaxing into his body. The arm that held her steady tightened briefly, and she knew that he had understood the gesture. Let the future bring it's trials, she thought, she would be alone again soon enough - surely there was no harm in enjoying this moment.
They reached Avebury before nightfall and without incident, the cluster of low stone houses nestled at the foot of the hills strangely silent as they made their way down the main street. Arthur looked back at his men with consternation. Most villages would have greeted the arrival of knights with enthusiasm; even those who were against the Roman occupation would have at least made their presence known. Gesturing for Galahad and Dagonet to come forward, the clatter of Tristans' horse barrelling out of the darkness silenced any orders he might have given.
"Arthur!" The normally silent knight swung out of the saddle and glanced behind him warily. "We have to go - there is something very wrong here."
"What do you mean?" Arthurs' voice was calm, but Llynya noticed that his hand now gripped the pommel of his sword. "Are we under attack?"
"I don't know. There is no sign of bloodshed, but there are no people either. The livestock are still in their pens, and there is no sign of a struggle."
"Not Saxons then." Dagonet looked at his commander uneasily, "doesn't sound like Woads either though."
"It's got to be one of the two." Galahad tried in vain to steady his skittish horse, "what else could it be?"
"Not sure that I want to find out," muttered Bors, "we've got enough hassle without making new enemies."
The howl that shattered the silence cut off any retort and sent the horses into skittish panic. Regrouping, the knights looked around warily, and Llynya felt her heart sink. Whatever had made that noise certainly wasn't Lark, nor a dog fox.
"Bloody Britain." Gawains' voice was barely more than a whisper, but for once Llynya did not think to defend her homeland.
Happy new year everyone! Thanks kind reviewing people - you keep me going.