Chapter 8: Change

Arthur was sleeping on the ground, beside a black smudge of burnt twigs which suggested an extinguished camp fire. A battered grey wool sheet was flung across his chest, his head resting on a rotten fraction of a log. His hand was on Excalibur, clutching its hilt as if his life depended on it.

Tristan watched him for a few moments, then stooped down and gave his shoulder a firm push.

Immediately, Arthur's eyes flew open, wide and alert, while pulling out Excalibur out of its sheath. He stopped midway when he saw his scout, and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Good morning, Tristan," he said quietly, aware of the fact that it was not yet dawn. The camp was quiet, and smelt of burnt wood and put out fires. It was dark, but a grey light penetrated through the thick trees, illuminating the heavy fog in the forest with an eerie glow. The air was damp but cold, and Tristan instinctively pulled his cloak tighter around his broad shoulders.

"I'm going out," he told his commander.

Arthur nodded, stifling a yawn. He thought it strange. Tristan always slipped off without a word or trace, and reappeared an hour or two later, bringing important news of their enemies.

"I need someone to watch the British girl while I'm gone," he continued.

Ah, so that was why. Arthur yawned again, he was truly spent. His joints creaked as he slowly sat up, grimacing as his wound on his shoulder made its presence felt.

"Where is she?" asked Arthur.

Tristan nodded towards the desolate cart that stood by itself across the clearing.

"She is dangerous?" he asked, although he already knew the answer.

The scout nodded grimly, and Arthur looked at the cart once again before turning to him.

"Take her with you," he said.

Arthur could see a slight change in Tristan's expression, so small that none but him and the knights, who had known him for so many years, would notice.

"It is not wise," said Tristan gravely.

"She is a scout, is she not?" asked Arthur. "She may be able to provide you with tidings of the Saxons."

"That I doubt," replied Tristan dryly.

"Take her with you," said Arthur again, speaking in a more authoritative tone. "We leave at first light. We will be tracing the coast."

Tristan gave a curt nod, clearly disgruntled with his commander's order, but he made no further protest and turned to his camp.

Arthur watched him go, then laid down, wincing as pain shot through his shoulder. He would have to have Dagonet look at the wound later.

Arthur stopped, shaking his head.

Dagonet was gone. It would take some time for him to get used to that. He sighed heavily, guilt settling once again in his heart as he drifted off to a much needed but fitful sleep.

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Abigail tried to sit up straighter in the saddle to avoid bumping into the scout, but with another canter stride she slammed into his back again, and she grimaced. It was hard enough sitting there without anything to hold on, except for the cantle of the saddle. She had no doubt that she would be sore for a good length of time.

She could not recall for how long they had been traveling, but she knew that they were going inland, judging from the thickening trees they passed by. Toward the Saxons. She knew why he brought her along, but no, she was not planning on giving any information of the Saxons to him.

He had woken her with a loud cough, and without a word, swept out of the cart and onto his horse. She had stood at the entrance of the cart, glaring at him while he waited for her to mount. When she did not, he yanked her up onto the saddle- fortunately by her left arm- and galloped out of the camp.

She scowled at his hair, the braids that brushed her face with every step of the horse. That man was vulgar.

She stopped short in her thoughts as she recalled the dagger pressed upon her neck. He was not vulgar- he was a cold-blooded, brutal warrior who would kill any that stood in his way.

But he had not killed her. His words haunted her. She was not worthy of death? It was perhaps the worst insult ever laid upon her. Worse still, she apologized to him.

She sighed. She could not help wondering why she said those words aloud. She had felt guilty and regret for killing Dagonet, which she would admit, were feelings she had barely experienced. She had taken lives, and she had done that in a detached manner, her victims being no more than people she was obliged to kill. But Dagonet?

She recalled the struggle inside her mind as she stood on the ice only yesterday. It seemed like a distant memory already. Dagonet had stood between her and the army to which her allegiance lied, and she had been compelled to bring him down.

She broke off her thoughts suddenly, briefly shaking her head. She was reasoning with herself. Again. She was yet again doubting herself and her actions, something she tended to do when she had done something very wrong.

Suddenly, Tristan reined his horse to a halt, causing her to slam her nose into his back. She muttered dirty words in complaint, but he ignored her, and she fell silent. She tilted her head and saw him scanning the area, which was infested by tall, evergreen trees, snow resting on their branches. Sunlight streamed down on the forest floor, and snow was starting to melt in the little pool of warmth.

Then she heard it. Noise. Of drums and a marching army.

Saxons.

She looked wildly about the forest, trying to judge where the sounds were coming from.

Tristan must have felt her movement, for he spoke softly, "North-west."

"Not far away," she added in a whisper.

He twisted his neck and glanced at her, before nudging his horse into a careful trot, following the sounds. They quickly made out a wide stretch of road beside the wall of trees they now went along, their eyes peeled for anything on the path ahead.

Abruptly, the steady staccato of the Saxon drums stopped, so did Tristan's horse. Lithely dismounting without even touching Abigail, the scout led his mount to a tree and tethered his reins to a branch. He then helped her off, or rather, dragged her from the saddle. He shouldered his bow and a quiver of arrows, then unfastened his sheath from the saddle and tied it to his belt.

When he was done, he simply nodded at the direction where they were headed to, and Abigail followed, knowing she would not be able to escape. He moved agilely, as if his feet did not sink into the snow at all, but she struggled to stay on hers.

Meanwhile, her mind was in a frenzy. The Saxons were there, it was most likely Cerdic's army, for it would undoubtedly take a few days for Cynric to find his way around the forest.

Oh, this was too easy. She was practically delivered back to her commander, a simple shout could save her from the Romans now. She would return to her place as the Saxons' scout, and have her life back. Not all was lost. Not yet.

They had reached the edge of the large span of trees, and there, beside a frozen pond, was the Saxon army. Abigail looked at Tristan as he pulled her down onto the snow with him behind a tangle of wild bushes for a sign of fear or anxiety, but all she saw was the same soberness in his dark eyes.

She turned her attention back to the soldiers, who were obviously taking a breather before continuing their journey south to Hadrian's Wall. She quickly spotted Cerdic, his bodyguards around him, drinking from a worn canteen. Instantly, her heart filled with dread. His rugged face, as always, did not show a sign of weariness. She knew that he thought weariness was weakness, and the weak did not deserve to live. She instinctively sighed, loud enough for both of them to hear. Tristan glanced at her, then turned back to massive army in front of them.

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They thought they had been badly outnumbered, but this was much worse. Tristan glumly surveyed the army, there were at least two hundred soldiers, all strong and vicious. He had a feeling that these were the best of the best, unlike the rather ineffective infantry they had faced the day before on the lake.

The Saxons were only two hours behind their trail at most.

He needed to go back and warn them, then return with a distraction. He eyed a dense forest behind the army, and the top of a nearby hill.

It would do, he thought to himself.

He turned to the girl, who was gaping at the Saxons with large, frightened eyes.

"I need you to postpone their leaving," he told the girl in a low but commanding voice.

She tore her gaze from the Saxons to glare at him.

"Why?" she retorted, her voice cracked from the cold.

"I have to go back to get help from the camp, create a diversion," he explained somewhat impatiently.

"Why should I help you, I meant," she pointed out rudely.

Tristan was vexed, he really was. But his face remained grave as he turned to look at the Saxons once again, then back at her, still glaring at him as if it was her second nature.

"You said you were sorry," he said quietly, then got up and ran silently to his horse's hiding place.

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Abigail was scared. In fact, she was terrified. Her teeth were chattering, despite the fact that she was straining her jaw, trying to stop shaking.

Tristan had been gone for at least half an hour now, and she was certain the Saxons were about to leave. Cerdic never allowed more than an hour's rest.

Abigail felt the urge to cry, but she bit the insides of her lower lip, attempting to inhale deep breaths, but her breathing was shallow with fright.

She did not know why she was so frightened. She did not even know why she was still squatting behind the bushes, staring at the Saxon camp. She did not know why she had not reported to Cerdic the whereabouts of the Romans already.

Perhaps it was the guilt that was weighing her down. The same guilt that kept her from her sleep, the same guilt Tristan saw in her, and was taking advantage of.

She nearly jumped when a loud drum beat rolled. She looked up to see the soldiers getting into line, bearing their heavy swords and shields, standing shoulder to shoulder behind their commander, who was waiting for his horse while slipping on a pair of gloves.

Propelled by a sudden drive of courage, Abigail stumbled out of the bushes before she had the chance to turn back.

"My, my, look what we have here," sneered Cerdic as he watched her untangle herself from a stubborn vine twisted round her ankle.

The soldiers were silent. Their absolute respect and fear of Cerdic kept their mouths closed, but their eyes were on Abigail.

"My lord," she said, bowing her head in respect after disentangling the snaking plant.

"Where is my son?" asked Cerdic gruffly.

"I do not know, my lord," replied Abigail, struggling to keep the fear she was gripped by from her voice.

Cerdic frowned at her. "Why?"

"I have been captured by the Romans."

"Captured?" said Cerdic, his frown deepening, his voice filled with scorn. "I have instructed Cynric to capture the Romans."

Abigail took a shaky breath. She had a feeling that Cerdic would not be keen to learn the news that his son had not only let the Romans escape, but that he had also lost miserably- at the hand of seven knights.

At that moment, the messenger of Cynric's infantry galloped into the clearing, obviously bearing the news she was about to deliver.

"My lord," the messenger jumped off his horse and knelt in front of Cerdic.

"Speak."

"My lord," the messenger stammered. "Cynric's infantry has been de-defeated."

Cerdic's eyes narrowed in rage, his voice, however was soft and dangerous. "How?"

"We were at a frozen lake, and fought for some time before the ice broke," he replied, his voice quivering.

"Is Cynric alive?" asked Cerdic in a flat voice.

The messenger nodded vigorously. "Yes, my lord. Cynric directed the army from the shore in his wisdom, he is unharmed."

Abigail could see Cerdic shaking in fury. "How many were there?"

"My lord?"

"Romans," spat Cerdic. "How many Roman dogs was my son against?"

If the messenger had been frightened before, he was now terrified. "There were no Romans. There were only the Sarmatian knights who escorted the Romans from their estate."

"How. Many."

"There were seven Sarmatian knights, and a woman."

Cerdic turned to Abigail, his face white. Not from shock, but from wrath.

"Is it true?" he growled, his jaw clenched.

Abigail bowed. "Yes, my lord."

She had not expected an attack, but he struck at her side, causing her to cry out in pain. Then his fist made contact with her face, narrowly missing her left eye, knocking her onto the snow. Abigail felt her wound on her upper arm tear open, and gasped, tears blurring her vision. She could do nothing in defence of herself, except closing her eyes and biting her lips as to stop herself from crying aloud. Consciousness slowly seeped from her, and the steady blows on her torso became dull and blunt.

Suddenly, everything stopped. Slowly opening her eyes, she saw a few arrows flying into the clearing, each killing a Saxon.

"Ambush!" she heard Cerdic bellow. The Saxons swiftly assembled in packed lines, and marched forward with Cerdic riding in the front.

Her head was pounding as she pushed herself up from the snow, half of her face numb from lying on the freezing snow. She could vaguely make out the rear of Saxon army, but her a film seemed to cover her eyes, and everything was hazy and unfocused.

Gradually, consciousness returned, long enough for her to feel warm liquid running down her face, and the throbbing pain in her upper arm, her abdomen, everywhere.

A wave of nausea washed over her, and instantly, she fell back onto the snow, facing the grey sky.

Slowly, slowly, the grey turned into white, then a blinding flash of light before impenetrable darkness consumed her.

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A grim chapter for a grim authoress. Yes, I am feeling rather grim. I've had a horrendously busy week and I'm dra-a-a-a-ined. Sorta. But not too drained to write a chapter for this story, obviously. I'm sorry if there are any mistakes in this chappie, but I'm too tired to read it over again. Thanks for the reviews for the last chapter, everyone! Fifteen! It's incredible, thank you so much! I have to make the shout-outs short, sorry everyone!

Morwen12: Thank you! Here's your update!

KnigthMaiden: Yes, the book rocks! The getting together part will happen soon ;) Update your stories soon! I miss reading your chapters!

K-Neptune: Thank you!

Mandamirra10: Thank you so much for your encouraging words!

ThePonderosa: I'm glad you liked that! I thought it's very Tristan, glad you think so too :) Well, strictly speaking, it's not "her" hawk. It was given to her after Cerdic killed its master in the first chapter lol.

The sarahnater: Aww, it never hurts to try again :P And I'm glad you think I'm a good writer!

GreenDayzIdiot: Hmm. You changed your name again xD Sigh. I know, I haven't updated DTB for too long, but it's just that I don't have the time to work on all my stories for the time being… I feel so guilty. Anyways, thanks for making me laugh again. Yeah. Tristan's good at making people feel guilty.

Lucillag: Thank you! Hope you liked this chapter!

Kasora: You have a point here. I guess I picture Gawain more of an explosive kind of character, you know. And I'm thinking that Galahad wants to make a stand on his own with Gawain pointing him around in the past. Like the part where Gawain says Galahad's going too. Sort of like that :) Ahhh, you haven't updated HTD yet :( You promised! Well, maybe you're busy, like me… oh well. School sucks, I guess :P I hope to hear from you soon!

Phantom666: Lol… I hope you're not so confused now. Yeah, I agree. Poor, poor Dagonet.

Vamsi: Thanks so much! I'm glad you like the tension between them :D

Lozcollie: Thanks! I hope you enjoyed the update!

Nilmelwen: Aww, it's okay. Lol, she is sort of evil, I'm afraid. More like forced to be evil. Absolutely! It is the turning point. She's starting to feel again, after being numb for a year. Sigh… I'm not sure about updating DTB, considering my lack of inspiration for the story and busy schedule. But I'll try. Very hard ;D

ButterflyKisses266: Thank you so much for your comments and adding The Traitor to your C2! I'm glad you think she's realistic :D

Sarita04: Lol, I'm considering Arthur as a Catholic… and that his mother was a Briton, and that Abigail is a Briton :P I'm glad you think it's a good story though! And yeah, a story. I guess I'll have to bend the rules to make it work. Thanks for sharing your views!

That's all for this week folks! I'll most likely update during the weekend, school's getting scarier by the day :X Alrighty then, see you and remember to review:D