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The two young women watched the knights depart with mixed feelings. Looking at the worry etched on the dark-haired girl's face, Charlotte took pity upon her.
"Come on." Charlotte grabbed Llynya's hand and pulled her over to a group of grubby, rather belligerent young children who were watching the proceedings with an unmistakable nervous energy.
"Llynya, meet Charlie, David and Peter. They're my brothers and the bane of my life."
Cuffing the tallest boy over the head when he stuck out his tongue at her, she thrust her new friend in front of them. "Be nice to her, she's already fought Saxons and Woads: she won't take any nonsense."
Llynya raised her eyebrows in incredulity. "Who have you been talking to? I didn't fight, I…"
"Pish. That knight with the bald head and big belly was telling everyone how you fought in the forest, and even the Roman agreed."
"You mean Arthur?" Llynya could not help but smile a little, "I didn't really have much choice in the matter, and if it wasn't for Bors…"
"Hmm, excuses, excuses… " Charlotte patted the smallest boy on the back as he raced away. "Careful!" she shouted as he was almost run down by a plough horse being led towards the fields. "Bloody kids." The grin on her face softened her pretence at annoyance, and she grinned as they leapt past her, grabbing the smallest as he nearly tumbled into the puddle beside her. "Be good". Ruffling the small boy's hair she kissed him on the cheek and laughed when he rubbed his sleeve over his face in disgust, scampering off to join his friends. "Stay close!"
Llynya watched the scene and laughed. "They certainly seem to keep you on your toes." With a wicked grin she shot a glance at the girl beside her, "You certainly seemed keener on him than Sir Lancelot. I'm sure he would have appreciated a kiss goodbye."
"But would it have ended at a kiss?" Charlotte gave Llynya a sideways glance. "That one is trouble, I've seen enough of his kind to be wary of men like him."
"He's not that bad…" Llynya's voice trailed off. "Perhaps if he…"
"Met the right woman?" The blonde girl snorted with amusement. "That man meets the right woman on a regular basis I imagine - although the proper description would more likely be willing."
Llynya laughed and shook her head. "Yes, I suppose you're probably right."
"Doesn't hurt to look though… I bet he…"
"Charlotte!" Both girls turned around at the greeting shouted from behind them, startled at the sudden noise. A middle-aged woman with dark hair picked her way daintily over the muddy ground, wincing as the skirt of her woollen dress was splattered with dirty water by one of the boisterous young boys that raced past her. "Do you have a moment?"
"Of course." Charlottereclaimed Llynya's hand and pulled her forwards. "Have you met Llynya yet? She came with the knights."
"So this is Llynya." The older woman appraised her with thoughtfully, and Llynya had to fight from squirming under such blatant scrutiny.
"That's right, I'm Llynya." She shook her hair from her shoulders and narrowed her eyes defiantly. "Who are you?"
"Calm down child, I won't bite you." The woman smiled and touched Llynya's cheek with soft fingers. "My name is Louisa, I believe that you are acquainted with my brother Tom."
"Oh." Llynya relaxed a little and looked into the kind dark eyes with interest. "I am. He has been very kind to me. I haven't seen him today… perhaps he's with the knights."
"He's in the tavern," Louisa said wryly, "If you seek Tom then it's either the forest or the tavern with him. He told me that you were looking for a job."
Llynya blinked. Of all the ways that this scene had been re-enacted in her head, standing in the middle of a courtyard with a muddy dress and her manners completely absent, wasn't the ideal scenario.
"I am miss, I mean Louisa."
"Then it is settled. I'll take you on as a trial barmaid for a week - we'll see how you do. You can follow Charlotte tonight, she'll show you the ropes. "
"Thank you." Llynya gave an awkward curtsey, only to flush with mortification at Louisa's laugh.
"Don't curtsey to me girl, if you are going to succeed here then you'll have to learn to toughen up. But you'll learn love, and Charlie here will help you. Tom says you have a good head on your shoulders, and he's no fool. I'll see you at sundown. Assuming the beast doesn't get you first." With a friendly pat to Llynya's shoulder, and a smile to Charlotte, Louisa made her way back to the big stone building at the end of the street.
"That woman has a very strange sense of humour," said Charlotte, shaking her head in annoyance. "Most don't even speak of the bloody thing, but ever since David she almost seems to invite it."
"David?" Llynya watched the woman walk away and turned to the other girl. "Who was David?"
"Her son. He was taken a few months back."
"Did they find him?" Llynya looked nervously at the mothers ushering their children into their houses and the silent hills that rose behind the village.
"It was hard to tell." Charlottes' eyes seemed to darken and her hand tightened around Llynya's wrist. "Come on, we've got work to do."
Gawain nudged his horse forward and tried to ignore the faint drizzle that dampened his clothing and chilled his skin. Truly this was a godforsaken country, and looking at the dark forest that surrounded the trail they were following, a dangerous one as well. His horse snorted and snatched at the bit as though in sympathy, and he patted it's neck reassuringly, before looking up at the man who had drawn up alongside him.
"Nothing like some fresh air is there?" Bors grunted, rubbing a big hand over his roughly shaven head. "Can't imagine anything bothering to live here. If there's a beast out there then it's a bloody stupid one."
"Where Arthur goes we follow," Gawain replied without rancour. "Frankly I'm sure that this is pointless, but we've fought Woads before and we will again. The villagers are scared to death - it makes a pleasant change to fight for decent people for once."
"You think it's Woads?" Bors raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you scared of the mythical beastie?"
A slap to his shoulder startled Gawain, and had him reaching for his axe without thinking.
"Grrr." The youngest knight was obviously less than worried by the prospect of a wild beast, and laughed at the blond knights' outraged face as he cantered past. Snarling several curse words at Galahads rapidly retreating back, the older man tucked the weapon back into his belt.
"Stupid boy. One of these days he's going to get an axe embedded in his…"
Bors snorted with amusement. "You two are already a pain in the arse - you don't need to insert weapons where the sun don't shine."
"Thank you Bors, It's nice to know I can count on you. Should have brought Vanora with us - a bollocking from her would have sent anyone or anything heading for the hills with their tails between their legs."
"Yeah." The big man smiled fondly, "She's got spirit my Vanora, that's why I love her. Speaking of which, what are you going to do about Llynya? For someone who left their lover and pretended that they weren't bothered, you seem awfully protective of her."
"Leave Llynya out of this," Gawain snapped. "You of all people know why I left her there. She deserves better than a man who will be forced to abandon her because some Roman commander tells Arthur we have to fight Saxons, Woads, or whatever else, every few weeks. Can you imagine her at the wall? She isn't like Vanora, she's a village girl; every soldier in the place would be after her, and you know what would happen when we are called away."
"Then why the bloody hell did you get involved with her in the first place?" Bors slapped a fly from his horses' shoulder and grimaced. "Bed -em and forget-em, best way lad."
"For a man with ten children that isn't very convincing advice."
"Van's different."
"So is Llynya." Gawain shook his hair from his eyes irritably. "I know I shouldn't have bedded her, I know I shouldn't have gone back, and I certainly shouldn't love her. We don't always get a choice in what happens, we don't always get to choose our fates - all of us know that."
"Love her?" The big man studied his friend thoughtfully. "Does she know that?"
"No, and she won't get the chance to find out either. I've talked to Tom, he's spoken to his sister and will stay in the village for a while to keep an eye on her."
"And you'll just leave her there."
"Yes. This way she gets a chance at a family, a life. What can I offer her? Until we are free I can't even promise my protection."
"Hmmph." Bors wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Do you really think that'll be much comfort to her? I've seen the way she looks at you - the silly girl loves you for some reason which I am yet to understand."
"Really Bors? I'm hurt," Gawain said wryly. "I'm trying to keep her safe, I'm trying…"
The crash of Tristain's horse through the undergrowth made them both jump, and at the expression on the scout's face both reached for their swords.
"Arthur." The dark man was breathless and obviously worried, "you'd better see this." Wheeling his plunging horse around, he cantered back into the forest.
The big Roman unsheathed Excalibur and turned his horse towards the path Tristan had taken, motioning for the rest of the knights to follow. "Stay close," he called back, "and stay alert."
The knights followed him wordlessly into the gloom, weapons ready and muscles tensed for the threat of battle. There was nothing but the cool green light filtering through the leaves and the soft rustle of the wind in the trees. A sudden clatter startled them all, and Galahad loosed his bow, killing the rabbit that had bolted from the bracken with swift, if pointless, accuracy.
"Nice one Gal," Bors muttered, "they'll be singing songs back in Samartia about you slaying that killer rabbit. All you have to do now is kill the ravenous hedgehog of Upton and you'll be a real legend."
"Hold your tongue." The young knight kicked his horse forward, his eyes narrowed and one hand clenched around his bow. "Plenty of times I've saved that fat arse of yours, and it could have been anything. Remember that time…"
"Gods, would you both shut up!" Gawain spat, "now is not the time for this."
"I.." Galahad started, before falling silent as they entered a large clearing and saw the carnage before them. It should have been a pretty place: the light was gold and green and the trees silent in their graceful tranquillity, high above a buzzard gave a shrill cry, but that was the only sound that ruffled the serenity of the scene. Nestled amongst the golden leaves that lay like a carpet on the forest floor were the remains of several bodies, the pale gleam of bone bright in the dim light.
"Knights." Arthurs' voice was quiet and all petty grievances were forgotten as the men dismounted, calloused hands soothing their startled mounts and reaching for their weapons.
"This was not the work of men," Lancelot said softly, crouching beside the corpse of what might have once been a young woman. "Even Saxons don't do this…"
Arthur nodded, turning a body over and closing his eyes in sorrow at the ravaged face of the child that gazed back at him with blank sightless eyes. "No arrows, no knife wounds. These people have been eaten."
"But…" Galahad looked at the grisly scene with wide eyes, "if it was wolves then the villagers would have seen them, they would have known."
"Whatever did this was no wolf," Dagonet said grimly. "No pack would leave prey half-eaten like this, no wolf would be able to drag bodies this size up here."
"Then what was it?" Gawain glanced at the path behind them and at the silent forest surrounding the clearing. Nothing stirred, no Woads or monsters seemed to lurk in the shadows. "If it's not men or wolves then what is it?"
"It is our duty to find out." Arthur gently lay the child's head back on the ground and straightened up. "Whatever did this must be stopped."
Galahad and Gawain glanced at each other ruefully. Arthur was a Roman, and the troubles of a tiny village should have been inconsequential to him, yet still he seemed to feel the need to fight for the underdog, the people who would have barely escaped the notice of most in his position.
"Bloody Roman," Galahad whispered with a grim smile.
"Idealistic idiot," Gawain replied, but they both mounted their horses and kept their hands on their weapons, waiting for his orders as their brothers did the same.
A/N Spot the Monty Python reference -couldn't resist lol! As ever, thanks to the kind reviewers of the last chapter. (Oh, and "pish" is an actual word, despite however much my computer sulks when I type it :)