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Arthur ran a soothing hand over his horse's neck and looked at his knights grimly.

"Keep together. I don't know what that was, but we will have a better advantage if we face it as a group. Tristan?"

The dark knight turned his head sharply.

"You are sure that you saw nothing suspicious before?"

"Nothing." He shook his damp hair out of his face and scanned their surroundings with fathomless eyes. "No tracks, no blood, no sign of a struggle."

"Then where is everyone?" Galahad finally spoke the question that they were all thinking. "And what the hell was that noise?"

Llynya untangled her fingers from the horses' mane and looked back at Gawain worriedly. With all that had happened in the past few days she should have been accustomed to strange events, but this was something else entirely. People did not disappear into thin air, and marauders did not leave the spoils of war untouched. Whatever had taken place here was beyond her comprehension, and judging by the reaction of the knights, not a usual occurrence. Gawain caught her glance and smiled reassuringly, but she could feel the way his muscles had tensed and saw the watchful apprehension in his eyes. The thing that had made that dreadful sound had fallen silent, but that did not mean that it had gone.

"Tether the horses and search the village," Arthurs' voice was firm and held no hint of indecision, "pair up and do not wander too far." He looked at Llynya with contemplative hazel eyes. "Llynya is your responsibility Gawain. Keep her safe."

"I will."

Llynya felt rather than heard his rumbling agreement, and wondered weakly if she should be insulted by such a declaration of ownership. She had caused enough trouble already - but being handed over like a child still rankled. The steadying grip of Gawains hand upon hers, and his breath against her neck as he helped her from the saddle sent such thoughts scurrying away. Stop it, she told herself furiously, you are likely to be eaten by goodness knows what soon: now is not the time to be acting like a blushing virgin.

"Thank you," she said to a patch of ground beside his boots, "I'll be fine here though, I'm quite capable of looking after myself."

"Really?" She did not look up, but the amusement in his voice was all too clear.

"Really." Llynya tucked her hair behind her ear with a studied hauteur that was not particularly convincing, before ducking under the horses' neck. She had taken only half a dozen steps before she was pulled up abruptly by a hand on her arm. Opening her mouth to protest, she found her objection swallowed by the hot sweetness of Gawains' mouth upon hers, his rough hands pulling her tightly against his big body. For a moment she stiffened before relaxing against him, her hands tentatively brushing his shoulders before he reluctantly pulled away.

"Stop fighting me," he said quietly, "I'm not your enemy."

"I…" She blinked and shook her head in confusion. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean…You should probably be…"

"Aye, I should. But I'm not leaving you here on your own." He traced the line of her cheek with rough fingertips and she felt her stomach twist with longing. "It will be alright Llynya. If you don't trust me then at least trust Arthur. He has never failed us yet."

She looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. The knights were in a situation that none of them understood, faced with an enemy that they had not seen, and yet they kept their faith. Not to religion, not to ideology, but to the word of a man who had ordered them into battle since they were little more than children. It should have been abhorrent, it should have been incomprehensible, but she had seen the man and understood. Arthur's orders came from Rome but his loyalty was to his men. That was why they fought for him, and that was why they loved him. Just as you cannot help your heart, a little voice inside said mockingly, they have chosen their fate and so have you.

"I trust you," she said quietly, "I trust all of you."

"Good." He gave a tired smile and reached for her hand. "Whatever is out there doesn't stand a chance against our lot - the mood Tristan is in, I almost pity it."

"You don't know that it's an "It,"" Llynya said hesitantly, "the hills are steep - perhaps it was a hunting dog we heard - the echo could have distorted the sound." At his condescending expression she wrinkled her nose with annoyance. "Perhaps it's a warning of some kind: a defence against people entering the village."

"And why would they bother to do that?"

He had a point. They were too few to present a serious threat, and the repercussions of defying Roman orders were all to clear - if that was what this charade was supposed to accomplish. Llynya looked around thoughtfully. Whatever had happened had happened swiftly, that at least was certain. The unlatched door of a nearby house swung lazily in the breeze, an overturned chair beside a table suggesting that someone had left in a hurry; an upended pail of grain in the pig pen, still mostly uneaten, indicating that it had not been long ago. There had been people here recently, so where had they gone?

"Come on." Gawain nodded his head towards the barn that bordered the paddock, and ushered her beside him. With a flicker of unease Llynya noticed the way his fingers curled around the axe tucked into his belt, and looked around warily for danger. There was nothing. A fat sow suckled her piglets in the pen beyond them, and the dim shadows of Dagonet and Bors searching the farmyard could almost have been mistaken for ghosts, were it not for the faint echo of the shorter mans' voice.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Llynya looked back nervously and almost ran into Gawains' back.

"Yes," he said curtly. "If I tell you to run, then you run, and if I tell you to be quiet then hold your tongue. Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly." She shoved down any petty irritation at his orders: she was well out of her depth when it came to warfare, and Gawains' voice brooked no argument. The barn was cool and dusty, half filled with straw, but devoid of any sign of life. Gawain prodded the pile of straw thoughtfully, but nothing stirred. The sudden clatter of a woodpigeon that had been resting on one of the eves made them both jump, and Llynya stumbled backwards, losing her balance and falling to her knees.

Gawain snorted with amusement, walking over to help her up. "You'll take on a Woad warrior, but you're scared of a pigeon? You should re-think your priorities Llynya."

"Hush." Llynya was still on her hands and knees, making no attempt to get to her feet. Between the slats of the barn floor a pair of eyes stared back at her, blinking in terror. "There's someone down here."

"What do you mean?" Gawain wandered over and crouched down beside her, gesturing for her to move away. Upon seeing the shadowy face, he looked up sharply. "Go. Find Arthur and tell him to come quickly."

Llynya nodded and turned swiftly, running out of the barn and back the way she had come. Holding her skirts out of the way, she looked around breathlessly for the knights, not daring to call out.

"Lass?" Tristan appeared behind her as if from no-where, and Llynya took a reflexive step back at the sight of him. He had been kind to her and she trusted him, but there was something very intimidating about his glittering dark eyes, and the curved sword he held with deceptive languor. As if reading her thoughts, he lowered the blade and softened his expression a little. "Lass? What's wrong?"

"There's a person in the barn. Under the barn I mean," she stammered. "Gawain said to get Arthur."

Tristan did not blink at such an odd pronouncement, turning he gestured for her to follow him and strode off, Llynya trotting to keep up behind him.

Arthur was deep in discussion with Lancelot when they found him and the other knights beside the tethered horses. Lark, who had obviously given up roaming the countryside, bounced up to them, tail wagging, and Tom shook his head at such inappropriate high spirits.

"Llynya has news." Tristan said curtly, and Llynya blushed as she suddenly became the focus of everyone's attention. She told them what she had seen as quickly as she could, and tried not to flinch as the Roman commander drew Excaliber with a sing of steel against steel.

"Lead the way Llynya." Nodding at her, he strode at her side as she retraced her steps as hurriedly as she could, well aware of the men unsheathing their weapons behind her. Gawain stood silently in the barn, grim faced and unmoving. At their arrival he gestured to Arthur. "There's a trapdoor over here - obviously it must be some kind of hiding place, but there's no way of knowing how many people are down there until we get it open.

"Then we proceed with caution. Dagonet?" The big man moved forward and bent to open the door which blended into the wooden floor so well that it was almost invisible.

"You'll be better off back here," said a voice in Llynyas ear, and jumping slightly, she let Lancelot push her back towards the entrance to the barn. "If we encounter trouble, hide over there and wait for one of us to find you afterwards." He pointed to a small overgrown orchard that backed onto the barn, before giving her a slightly condescending pat on the shoulder. Llynya nodded to show that she had understood, and watched as he rejoined the others; all of them tense and silent, their weapons ready and expressions stony.

The trapdoor opened with a creak, and Dagonet looked at his commander with surprise.

"Arthur. You had better see this."

The big Roman stepped closer to the opening, his expression changing from wariness to shock as he looked inside, and Llynya could not help but creep a little nearer, so that she too could see what they had discovered. Huddled in what was little more than a huge pit, were several dozen people - what had to be the missing villagers. Their ages ranged from a small baby wrapped in blankets and held tightly by a frightened young woman, to a white haired old man, who judging from his blank eyes must surely have been blind. They were silent and obviously afraid - even the two young men who held pitchforks in what was probably a crude method of defence, made no move to attack.

Arthur looked at his knights in bafflement before turning back to the group before him. "My name is Arthur Castus, I am a Roman commander and these are my knights. We mean you no harm, there is no need to hide from us." Stepping back, he motioned for them to come out of the pit. When none of them made any move to leave the shelter, he sighed in exasperation. "You have my word that none of you need fear us."

"Aint you we're hiding from," a small boy's voice piped up, before being hastily shushed by his mother, "it's the beast."

"The beast?" Dagonet looked at the boy, who quailed at the stern knight's glance. "What sort of beast?"

There was a moment of silence before a middle aged man stepped forward. He was as simply dressed as the others, but he had a quiet authority that led Llynya to assume he was someone of importance in the village. "We don't know sir. It's no wolf or boar I can tell you that much. It attacks both in darkness and daylight, and it only ever attacks people - the livestock are always left untouched."

Bors snorted. "Never heard such a load of pigswill in my life."

"Bors." Arthur gave the stocky knight a warning look, before turning back to the man. "And no-one has seen it? How do you know when it hunts - you can't spend all of your time hiding, surely?"

"No sir. There is a whistle that sounds before it comes, although we don't who calls it or for what purpose. We can go weeks without hearing it, or sometimes only a couple of days. In the past six months we've lost fourteen people to it - just dragged off before you can blink. Sometimes we find… Bits," he swallowed hard, "but never any sign of the creature itself."

"Are you sure it's a creature?" asked Arthur quietly, "Woads can disappear into the forest without being seen - they could be mistaken for beasts."

"We have no trouble with Woads." The man shook his head at the suggestion. "We leave each other alone for the most part - even trade goods sometimes." Remembering who he was speaking to, he looked up nervously. Arthur ignored the suggestion of disloyalty and turned to his men thoughtfully. "Well knights, it appears that we're going hunting."

"You'll help us?" A pretty young woman looked at Arthur with wide eyes.

"Yes." Arthur had obviously made his decision. "Whatever is out there we will kill, I promise you that. Come out of there and go back to your homes: my knights need quarters and we are hungry. Tomorrow we will try and unravel this mystery."

"Thank you my lord." The older man clambered out of the pit and nodded respectfully to both Arthur and his knights. "My name is Dynadan, and I am the head of the village. You and your men are welcome here - we are most grateful for your help."

Arthur nodded in acquiescence and reached out to help a heavily pregnant woman up the slope. The girl looked rather panicked, and watching the exchange Llynya couldn't blame her - kind Romans were as unusual as unicorns in these parts. Looking over at Gawain she smiled as he gave her a baffled shrug; whatever was happening here they were now a part of, like it or not. Thinking back to the eerie howl they had heard earlier, she suppressed a shiver of unease, and could not help but wonder if Arthur really knew what he was getting himself into.

A/N Well, for what was going to be a little ten chapter piece of fluff, this seems to have become not so much a plot bunny as a were-rabbit… In my defence, Gawain and Llynya did finally get a kiss lol! Have I portrayed Tristan believably? - for some reason I find him really hard to write - so let me know if you have any suggestions. Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, and sorry I can't reply to anonymous reviews - they are appreciated though!