Chapter 19: Destiny Awaits
She had not betrayed them.
Before dawn, Tristan found a body lying in the bushes at an abandoned stretch of destroyed walls that had never been repaired since the day they fell. A crimson line traced the dead Saxon's neck, his limbs were frozen stiff and a dagger with its blade stained red was disposed of carelessly near the corpse.
He picked it up and once again found himself confronted by the clumsy lines of the same dagger that had been put under his nose some time ago. He threw it back into the bushes and walked away, knowing it had served its purpose well.
And she had left.
The stables were strangely quiet, as though even the creatures were aware of the bloodshed in store for the new day. Jols merely nodded at him before emptying an unoccupied stall of its dry hay- the stall which had housed the devil horse for the night.
Now, Tristan lifted his head briefly and surveyed the grey clouds looming ominously over the slow-moving procession towards Rome, and beyond that- home. Sarmatia. He was riding next to Lancelot, whose arrogant head was down and watching the mud their horses were treading on. In front of them was the waggling wagon in which Vanora and Bors's little bastards were nestled cozily, if not comfortably. Bors rode next to them, brooding silently. Vanora was gazing out of the window sadly, her eyes lingering on the fort where she had lived for a better half of her life. Galahad and Gawain rode behind the weaponry cart driven by a lad, and the silence they shared spoke louder than words about their frame of mind.
A flutter of wings and a mischievous chirp brought his eyes up again, and he watched his hawk glide in a circle before dropping down to his outstretched arm.
"Where've ya been?" he murmured with the smallest hint of a lopsided smile. "Where've ya been?"
She simply squawked and bobbed her head up and down, making as if to take flight, but merely hopped on his arm playfully.
Had it been another day, it would have been enough to put a fleeting grin on his face. But not today.
Arthur had bade them farewell without a word as they gathered at the courtyard outside the stables for the final time. Lancelot had grasped his life-long friend's shoulder, then mounted and led them out of the fort to catch up with the caravan, surrounded by a large band of retreating Roman legionnaires. At least, for the head of it, which included the Bishop and Lady Fulcinia's carriages. The poor carts and wagons trailing behind them brimming with peasants who were unwilling to risk their lives at the hands of the Saxons were watched over by the knights.
Those who were willing, they remained at the fort under Arthur's command, including the small band of Roman soldiers who had promised allegiance to him.
The air smelled of Death itself- heavy, suffocating. The expanse of grass between their winding path to safety and the Southern wall was hazy with early morning mist, and Tristan could see preparations of the impending battle had been readied. Deep pits filled with black pitch and small fires dotted the field, and he felt a vast presence in the forests on their left.
Loud thuds of hooves interrupted Tristan's thoughts as Bors suddenly turned from the line and galloped to the Wall, where, beyond it, Arthur was astride his steed on a grassy hill, both in full battle armour, overlooking their departure.
"Artorius!" bellowed Bors, thrusting his sword into the air while reining his horse in. "Ruuuus!"
Artorius remained still for a moment, then lifted Excalibur, which caught the sun rising ever slowly from the East behind its wielder, glinting majestically as Arthur yelled back their battle cry.
"Ruuuus!"
His call, strong and clear, echoed in the still morning air. Satisfied with the reaction, Bors wheeled his horse around and galloped back to the caravan.
Tristan smirked when Bors caught his eye, and the bald knight grinned forcefully, trying to reinforce his usual humour.
"Had to make sure he's in the right side of his mind," he shrugged nonchalantly and trotted forward to taunt the Bishop's secretary.
Tristan turned to the hill again, but there was no one there.
--------------
The sun had risen, its glorious rays were hues of pink and gold as they stretched over miles of grey grass, giving vibrancy to the lifeless plain tinted with sparkles of melted snow.
Abigail halted Breamas at the crest of the gentle slope which dropped to the flatland, unfolding as far as the eye could see. Breamas snorted in disdain and rebelliously pulled on the reins before stopping, prancing a bit as if to inform her that he was not obeying her command. She shook her head ruefully. He gave her plenty of reasons to name him after the Devil.
They had been travelling at a steady, leisurely pace for about an hour. She knew she should be hurrying on with her way, venturing down as far as the Southern coastline before turning back North along the coast. But instead, she found herself reluctant to let Breamas go faster than a quick trot. For one, his temper discouraged her from letting him go too quick. Losing her horse in a time like this was not desirable.
Other than that, she had started to doubt her decision to leave. She was running away from a chance at vengeance, something she had hoped for since the day her shock had subsided and hate had settled in. Why was she running now? She had started last night, why could she not find the same courage to turn back now?
Because, for the first time in her life, she truly felt free. The soft warmth of the rising sun, the silent woods, the clear air, even the slicing winds- they gave her a sense of freedom she had never felt before. No restraints, no boundaries as she gazed out at the golden plain.
She felt Tristan's pain now. Freedom never meant so much to her before, and she did not want to lose it. She definitely would if she returned and fought- for either side.
Yet, she would never be truly free until the Saxons left this island. That was what Arthur was fighting for- freedom. To be completely free from the fear of staying in one's homeland, without having to look over one's shoulder.
A nagging conscience planted itself in her mind as she dug her heels into Breamas's sides, just as a earsplitting whistle pierced the air, unsettling both horse and woman.
--------------
Tristan's stallion jerked to a halt and started to back up at the shriek of the Sarmatian Dragon- a scream that they were familiar with but had not heard for a long time. In the background, a steady beat of Saxon drums had begun, and the horses neighed and tossed their heads impatiently.
Petting his dappled horse's handsome neck soothingly, he glanced up at the knights who had gathered, not even noticing that the caravan had drawn to a halt. They traded glances, each knowing what they had to do, and small smiles of an unspoken agreement adorned their grim faces.
Tristan lifted his hawk to eye-level, and she cocked her little head to one side, staring beadily at him.
"Hey," he said, his smile growing an inch broader. "You're free."
She stared at him some more, then, hesitantly, she spread her wings. He watched her hover over them, as if waiting for him to change his mind. When he did not, she deflected her course southwards to her freedom, while they prepared to fight for theirs.
--------------
Abigail practically hauled Breamas to a halt again, and nearly got dismantled from the saddle. She had to go back now, the staccato of the Saxon drums grew louder and louder in her ears, daring her, mocking her. If she was going to die, then let her die free and let it be for her own people.
"You want to run?" she asked Breamas, who was ill-temperedly flinging his head from side to side, flaring his nostrils. "Run swiftly now for me."
The Devil delightedly obliged, and was no more than a shadow of black as he galloped over the plain back towards the fort where destiny awaited.
--------------
I'm sorry for not updating forever… I've turned to update my other two stories which have been idle for some time. I apologize for the short chapter, but I really don't have enough time to type up anything longer. Now you have some answers to your questions, but the biggest is yet to come… will Tristan live?
Okay, I sound like a deluded witch or something. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and thanks for the reviews for the previous one! I will update as soon as I can, with a long chapter packed with (I hope) action and adventure! Goodbye for now!
