The Last Outpost of the World
The wagon rocked back and forth as it made it's way down the rocky, dirt path that lead to Hadrian's Wall. Pelagius had prayed that the soothing motions would put the exhausted children into a much needed sleep, especially the youngest, but both still sat inside the cart, staring straight ahead of them. Elaine's eyes were red and swollen. He had held her close to his heart as she sobbed earlier that night. It appeared now, that all the tears she had ever possessed were shed for her mother's passing. Now she sat, her head carelessly rocking from side to side, clutching Arthur's arm with desperate need. Arthur, too, sat silent. Pelagius knew him very well; Arthur would forever blame himself for that night's occurrences. When the Woads had attacked the village, he and Elaine had been up on the hill, playing near their father's grave. They had sprinted down when they'd seen the flames of the fires and heard the screams of the villagers, Arthur leading as Elaine clung to his arm. Once they had reached the village, Arthur instantly knew he must hide Elaine before going to his mother. She was placed in a few bushes, near the village, but far from the danger. Arthur than went to their home. He had tried so hard, so bravely, to save his mother from the flames of the fires. But it was already too late. As the Woads retreated back into the forests, Arthur knelt weeping in front of the villa, his father's sword, Excalibur, at his side, after he retrieved it for battle. Elaine soon joined her brother, hugging him desperately to her as she stared with deep anguish at the flames that had consumed their mother, and their happiness. That was how Pelagius found them, the next morning.
Now, they were traveling to the Wall. Pelagius vowed to see to it that the young children reached the fortress safely, before he would make his way back to Rome. Arthur, heir to his father's title as Roman Commander of the Sarmatian Knights, would soon begin his training. He was to be indebted to Rome for the next fifteen years, serving her as the Roman dignitary and protector in Briton. Soon, he would become a man.
Elaine turned away from her view of the nearing Wall, carefully rubbing her eyes and groaning in pain. She had lost her mother that night. Her weak limbs still ached from the race down the hill, and she had scratches from the bushes, all up and down her legs. Her pink dress, that was made by her mother but a few weeks ago, was now filthy and torn. She had loved it so. Her mother had designed it in a Roman fashion, clasps holding the dress up on the shoulders and the elbows, and long silk ribbons criss-crossing down the sides. Yet, just as her mother usually did, she had added designs all along the material; embroidered light pink flowers appeared, clearly a British addition. Her mother had always taught Elaine about the ways of her people. Their customs, their beliefs. Yet, Elaine now realized that it was her own people who had killed her mother. They had taken her away from Elaine and Arthur forever, without cause.
Elaine turned to ask her brother about the Woads, but closed her mouth before she could utter a single word. The expression on her brothers face made new tears well up in her dark brown eyes. His green eyes, once so bright and noble, were now dim and emotionless. His countenance was ashen, his smile disappeared. Instead, a dark and frightening seriousness covered Arthur's features, bringing forth fear deep in Elaine. His knuckles had turned white has he still gripped Excalibur in his other hand. Tears streamed silently down Elaine's face.
Had she now lost her brother as well?
Days seemed like weeks, and weeks were more like months. Their bodies ached with exhaustion, yet the young Sarmatian boys still rode on horseback. Twenty in all, it appeared that small groups were forming among the young men. Bors and Dagonet, both already men by the standards of Sarmatian custom, tended to stay together, neither one truly associating with the younger boys just yet. Galahad and Lamorak, the both only eight years, rode silently together, under the watchful eye of Gawain, Lamorak's cousin who was but two summer's older than the two. However, Gawain had befriended the young Lancelot and Kay, who were both twelve years, very quickly, so that the five stuck together like hot tar.
Tristan rode alone, just as he had the entire journey. The others were kind, and he knew that he truly could call them his companions, but he still spoke less than any other in the group. He preferred it that way. Deep down, he knew most of the young men around him would never see Sarmatia again, so it was best to only gain trust, no comradeship. Not just yet at least.
"Hadrian's Wall, boys," called the Roman commander at the very front of the troupe. Each pair of young eyes turned forward in awe at the great edifice that grew up from the ground. Never before had they seen such a sight.
"Welcome to hell on earth."
"We are here."
Elaine lifted her head from where it had rested upon Arthur's shoulder. The wagon was entering under the gates of the famed Hadrian's Wall. Elaine stretched her neck out of the window flap to stare up at the seemingly never-ending height of the wall. Though she had lived there as a very young child, and her village was only about two miles away, the greatness of the Wall never ceased to amaze Elaine's youthful mind.
"Arthur, your Knights are here now as well. They arrived just before us," Pelagius pointed ahead. "Look."
Both Arthur and Elaine now looked out at the scene before them. Twenty young boys were dismounting their horses, looking tired, hungry, but probably more obvious, frightened. Arthur's heart began to race, and his hands slightly trembled as nervous insecurities set into his mind. Elaine, who still held onto to her brother, noticed his silent shaking. He was only a boy. She gently reached up with her free hand, cupped his cheek with a motherly touch, and turned his eyes to meet hers.
"Know Arthur, that no matter what happens, no matter how quickly our lives may change, my love for you will never falter. I will be with you always, I promise."
Her brother's eyes softened as his mouth curved into a half smile. He brought his beautiful sister into his embrace and kissed her head.
"I love you, Elaine."
"And I you, Arthur."
Silently, Arthur thanked God. For he knew that a hard life lay ahead for him now. Yet, as long as he had his own bright Angel by his side, he knew he would survive until he was free again.