Thanks to all who have review my story thus far. I really appreaciate your encouragement and help, more than you know!

I'm going on a short trip this weekend, but I'll try to add Chapter 7 and possibly chapter 8 before I leave. I've just been writing like crazy, so many ideas spinning in my mind at once. I promise to type up more chapters on the road.

Dellis, the whole Elaine being taken will be answered soon, I promise. I know its kind of confusing, but I didn't want that whole story to be told all at once, but rather slowly in the next two chapters. Sorry, but thanks for your kind words. They made my day!

Glad you liked the Vanora and Lamorak scene, boondockgal! It was sort of an afterthought that I hoped would give some more comedy to my story! I want Lamorak to be the sort of lovable little brother that is kind of innocent and but still a knight.

Keep the reviews coming! You'll get some Action in this chapter! But not in the way you might want, sorry. hehe (thinks of tristan, lancelot, heck all the knights.)

Chapter 6

The Healer

A thick fog, that consumed everything within sight like a shadow upon the earth, had rapidly settle upon the lands of Briton. An unbearable cold wind blew strongly from the East, greatly effecting the efforts of nine riders that appeared over the horizon. Yet, these men were skilled horsemen, and they expertly rode against the oncoming wind with exceptional agility.

Arthur and his Sarmatian Knights had set out the next morning as the sun was just rising in the dim sky. Few were there to see them off, save for Vanora and the ten bastards of Bors, because of the early hour. Kay joked that it was just like the Romans to sleep in.

Now, the Knights were nearing the Eastern most edge of Hadrian's Wall, where many travelers and merchants came to the British shores from other distant lands.

Just as they were entering a wooded plain, the scout sensed that many eyes were watching them from the trees and underbrush. From his place in the back, Tristan knew his voice wouldn't reach his commander in time. So, he acted first. Quickly drawing an arrow from his quiver, Tristan shot at an unseen figure in the woods. There was a wail of agony, as a blue body fell into the path of the oncoming Knights. Arthur's white stead reared up in surprised fear, but the equally shocked Roman kept a hold of the beast. He drew Excalibur and yelled, "Woads!"

Countless numbers of blue bodied warriors gushed out from the forest walls, foreign tongues yelling horrible war cries. The Knights ready themselves for the onslaught.

A burly woad lunged out at Lancelot from a tree, tackling the knight to the ground with so much force, that it blew the air from his lungs. Lancelot rolled over in pain, vainly attempting to grab for his fallen sword. The woad took advantage of the knight's momentary weakness, as he raised his sword directly over Lancelot, for what would be a death blow. Just as he brought down his sword, the unfortunate warrior's head jolted back at the impact of Tristan's second arrow, his body dead before he hit the ground. Lancelot quickly caught his breathe once more, grabbing his sword and drawing it's twin out from it's scabbard on his back. The Woad that had come to finished his fallen comrade's mission, desperately tried to block Lancelot's swift, strong blows, but ultimately the Knight got the better of him. Lancelot plunged his swords sideways into the man's abdomen, fatal gashes spewing red blood as he wailed in pain. Lancelot, indifferent to the man's suffering, simply ran on to the next adversary. He ran over towards Galahad, slicing into oncoming Woads with great speed. The young Knight, who still remained on his stead, was surrounded, and although he had hacked away most of their lives with his short sword, the Woads were slowly overtaking him. Until, Lancelot and Gawain, who was completely covered with blood after killing six Woads simultaneously, came to Galahads aide. Their combined strengths quickly overwhelmed the group of Woads. Most retreated back into the forests.

Bors let out his famous battle cry, as he beat and sliced into Woad after Woad. The veteran Knight, preferring hand-to-hand combat, had quickly jumped from his horse as the woads attacked, and actually ran towards a group of ten charging Woad warriors. Dagonet, sensing that his old friend had acted a little foolhardily, ran forth, beating down three Woads with merely a tackle with his studded armor. Kay and Arthur, fought back to back, each watching out for the other as more ran from the forest. Arthur was battling a short Woad with a long sword, as Kay swung his short axe down upon the sword of his opponent, taking the Woad's absence of defense over quickly as he brought his saber swiftly across the throat of the man. Blood squirted onto Kay's face, but the tall, green-eyed man ignored the gore, turning around to his commander, as Arthur decapitated the short Woad after knocking the man's sword from his grasp. The two looked at each other, chests heaving, with no emotions in their eyes. The battle was nearly over.

Lamorak, who also managed to stay upon his horse, shot eight Woads that had attempted to sneak upon the other battling knights with his long bow. He than charge his chestnut stead into a thick crowd of Woads, expertly swinging a short sword in his right hand, and a long knife in the other. As his horse made it through the crowd, the youngest of the Sarmatians left a bloody trail of dead Woads in his wake. Tristan, had dismounted quickly after shooting the arrow that had save Lancelot. He had been able to shot two more Woads in the trees from his spot on the muddy ground, before he drew his long curved saber. Three warriors charged him at once from all different directions, but Tristan gracefully spun around them with inhuman speed, slicing through the men and ending each their lives in mere seconds.

Within minutes of the ambush, the battle was over, and the surviving Woads ran back into the woods, disappearing from sight once again. The Knights stood over the bloodied ground side by side, again.

Lamorak, who had dismounted and ran over to join his comrades, spoke first, "Why would they attack this far East?"

"It was if they knew of our mission," Dagonet stated more to himself than anyone else. It was what all the Knights were thinking.

"But why would they care if we were escorting the Healer to the wall?" Lamorak asked.

"This wasn't a normal ambush, Arthur," Lancelot stared over at the Roman with an expecting look, "Merlin sent them here for a reason. They were sent to stop us ."

Arthur stared into the deep forests, his heart still pounding inside his chest, as he tried to discover a reason for the attack. Woads very rarely ventured this far East, and when they did, it was only when Merlin, their leader, was attempting some sort of action himself. Arthur froze as realization set in. Merlin was trying to reach the caravan first, they just got in the way.

"Tristan!"

The scout had already been studying Arthur's face and knew what he had just realized.

"There is a trail, that will lead right to the main road where the seamen come in from. It's through the woods, but it's short."

"Knights!"

The hoofs of each Knight's horse , pounded into the loose dirt of the narrow path, as they raced through the dense British forest. Arthur's heart frantically beat, as his fear of what lay ahead grew more with each step. He couldn't fail this mission; he couldn't have his men risk their lives for no reason.

Soon, they reached an opening, and came upon a bright valley of green grasses, a broad dusty road traveling directly down the middle of it. Arthur, once again, lead his knights as the spread out behind him, forming a W-shaped formation.

It wasn't long after they had entered the valley, that they came upon the smoke of the dying fires. They slowed as they neared the caravan, or what was left of the caravan. Each knight looked on in disbelief and displeasure. Their hearts sank when they came upon fallen bodies, either bloody or charred by the fire. Men, women, about ten in all, lay unceremoniously about the earth.

Arthur dismounted, with a slight look of horror. It had been a slaughter.

"They didn't even have time to defend themselves," Gawain motioned to the body of a man, who appeared to have been reaching for the sword at his side. He lay with an arrow in his chest, hand still on the hilt, as if his moment of death had been forever frozen in time.

Kay and Lancelot soon joined Arthur, as each carefully examined the dead. "Do you think the healer is among them?" Lamorak asked the three from his horse.

"How could you even begin to tell?" Kay shook his head in pity. Many of the dead were, unfortunately, quite disfigured from the ambush.

"Because of that." Lancelot said, pointing to a perfect carriage, untouched by the flames, horses still attached, and completely rid of any sign of attack. Save for a tear in the flap that had served as a door. Arthur and Kay ran to the carriage, the others slowly following behind. Arthur entered the carriage, noting that the many pieces of luggage, some full of healing tools and herbs.

"This was the healer's carriage," he called out to the rest, "it appears that they surprised him, and dragged him out. From what I can tell, the healer is still alive." Arthur jumped down from the carriage and jogged over to the men, who circled him.

"Or at least he was," Lancelot added with anger for the Woads on clearly on his face. Arthur sighed, carefully thinking on their next form of action.

"Tristan, can you track them?"

Tristan drew close to Arthur, "They took a horse from the caravan," he said pointing down to the muddy hoof prints, that had surrounding feet print nearby. "They head back West."

This time, Tristan lead the men quickly back through the forests, following closely the trail left by the Woads. Because of the freshness of the prints, he knew that they were still very nearby. Tristan made a fist in the air, the knights slowing down to a trot to meet up with the stopped scout.

"Arthur, the prints end. The healer dismounted the horse, and ran off into the forest, the Woads following closely behind."

"How do you know the healer was on the horse?" Galahad asked.

"The prints. They're small and not very deep. The healer must have been wearing slippers, the Woads wore heavy boots."

Arthur looked at the prints for a moment, than up into the forest where they entered. "Tristan, you enter in here first, we'll circle around and surround them. They will have not gotten far."

Tristan jumped down from his gray horse, grabbed his bow and quiver, and silently disappeared through the entrance. He heard the men gallop away behind him, and knew they had taken his stead with them. Tuning out all other noise, Tristan focused around at his surroundings. He stuck in the shadows of the great trees, effortless moving through the forest without a single noise. Tristan was in his natural state; he was the predator.

A twig snapped to his right, and Tristan swiftly crouched in the underbrush, his arrow extended out. From his position, he saw a pair of feet enter into the clearing in front of him. He would take him by surprise.

Tristan jumped up quickly, aiming his bow at the heart of the person in the clearing. It truly surprised him to see that, despite his movements were silent, the figure had it's own bow and arrow aimed directly at his heart as well. It had somehow sensed his presence and had enter the clearing to trick him out of his spot.

That fact that this creature had sensed him did not surprise Tristan as much as what he discovered secondly. Not a man, nor a Woad stood before him. But a woman. Her milky white skin glowed in the dim light of the forest, her long, wavy, raven brown hair gently blew in the breeze, as she panted from exhaust. She wore a long cream colored gown, that dipped down low upon her chest. Upon seeing her, Tristan's predatory demeanor slipped slightly, almost causing him to lower his bow. But he quickly snapped back, chiding himself for such a foolish motion.

The two stood there for what seemed like an eternity, each carefully studying the other one. The woman, equally surprised by the man she had half expected to not be there at all, noticed the man's appearance. His dark eyes bore into her, and despite herself, she found them both intimidating and enchanting at the same time. They seemed to contradict his gruff exterior, and yet fit him at the same time. She shook her head in slight confusion.

"Edan n'uma goth," the woman finally spoke in a foreign tongue. "Manke annon sulo, taur'othar?"

Tristan did not show the woman any sign of acknowledgement, nor did he move as the woman took a step forward. He still wasn't sure what to make of her. Was she of the caravan? She did not even look Celtic. The Celts were big, blonde creatures, and this woman look more like a Briton. Or a Roman.

Just than, Arthur and the men charged in, circling the woman who frantically turned from Tristan in surprise, aiming her bow around at each knight. The men just stared at the creature before them. They truly hadn't expected to find her there.

"All the Woads from the tracks lay dead a few yards back," Arthur told Tristan, not taking his eyes of the woman. "There is an arrow in each."

"You mean she...?" Lancelot trailed off in disbelief.

Tristan finally lowered his bow, but didn't take his gaze away from the woman, for two reasons. One being she was a stranger, and the other for which he wished to stab his foot for. Her beauty was so evident, even the scout couldn't help but stare.

"Lady, I am Artorius Castus of Hadrian's Wall, we've been sent for your healer."

At his words, the woman froze completely, her eyes wide as she stared up at the commander. The bow feel limp to her side, and her mouth opened in awe slightly. Her eyebrows curved in disbelief.

The knights noticed her shock, and looked questioningly from her to their commander. Arthur, too, had a puzzled look, but he kept his dignitary air about him. This woman look so familiar.

"Toror'?" the woman whispered.

"Your healer, is he alive?"

The woman broke out of her spell by Lancelot's voice, and she looked at the knights with a half smirk.

"I don't think she speaks..."

"Do not worry yourselves with the healer," the woman interrupted Kay as she turned her attention back to Arthur," for she can defend herself."

The knights were taken about, and the woman laughed at their expressions despite her fixation on Arthur.

"I am the healer you seek."

"But you're..." Lamorak innocently trailed off.

"A woman? Yes, and I thank you for noticing."

Bors chuckled at the woman's quick wit, and Lancelot, smitten with her beauty already, offered her a devilish grin. The woman noticed and turned away as a blush crept up into her cheeks.

"It's only that, we expected an old man, with a long gray beard," Gawain half joked.

"Well, I am sorry than that I've disappointed you."

"You are hardly a disappointment, milady," Lancelot said with a grin. Tristan glared at the cad of a knight.

"Lady, we've come to escort you to the wall."

The woman once again stared at Arthur. Her eyes turned sad for a moment before she neared the Roman. "Has it been that long for you?"

Arthur looked at the woman, completely confused. "Milady?"

Tears welled in the young woman's eyes, as she drew close into the face of the commander. The others stared around at each other very much befuddled. Who was this woman?

"You've been in my mind, my dreams every day."

"Forgive me, I do not believe I've ever met you."

The woman huffed as she stared up at Arthur. "Arthur." The woman than reach down her chest and grasped at a chain fastened around her neck. "Perhaps, if you cannot remember my face, you will remember this."

The woman lifted her fingers to reveal a pendant in her palm. It was a breathtaking clear cut stone held by looping etched silver pieces. It appeared to be in the shape of a flower, but looked like a tiny star upon the woman's breast.

Arthur's jaw dropped as the woman's fingers curled open. He nearly feel back. He would remember that stone anywhere, and would remember the one who carried it.