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'Thoughts'

"Speech"

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KING ARTHUR:

Fallen Knights Return

Chapter Twenty-Seven– New Life

"Well Bethan, let us move out." Said Tristan, as he and his daughter went on another scouting mission. There had been no trouble for the last six months, and for the last three Bethan had gone back to scouting with him. She had been relieved, convinced as she was that she would save him again if need be.

Every time they went, San's heart was in her mouth; though she never showed it. They always came back safe, and gradually her blind terror and pacing the fort lessened.

Bethan was amazing Arthur in every way; now only half a year away from nine she was showing herself to be the future warrior and scout that many had predicted. She was an accomplished rider, her swordplay was legendary among the children, she fought like a tiger, and her bow and dagger use were extremely accurate, like both her parent's. She fought with a ferocity that laid waste to even all Bors children; she was as tough as nails, never cried out in pain……and all the knights adored her.

But none adored her as much as one youngster only a week away from turning eleven - Lucan. All the other boys knew to stay away by now. He was growing into a fine young man, yet was as dog like in his devotion to Bethan as the day they met nearly two years before.

His fighting skills were less than hers; but were improving, more down to her constant practicing and him joining her just to be with her.

She was like her mother, out there sometimes from dawn to dusk just practicing swings and passes with dagger and sword. Shooting her bow, she could already muster two arrows – unusual for a child her age – and was hoping to get to six like her mother.

As before, where you wanted one, you looked for the other – for they were always together. She had softened with Lucan over the intervening two years, gone was the bossy mop top – now a young girl was gradually taking her place. One used to seeing death and destruction around her, and so being grateful for the love and adoration lavished on her by her constant companion; though it was not unheard of for her to wrap him round her little finger if need be.

But sometimes she would try and dodge Lucan as she felt he talked too much; she was rapidly turning into a female Tristan, silent and watchful, and would try to get out on her own and ride the trails - but would always be stopped by a knight.

Gawain was usually the one to stop her, or often would accompany her; astonished at the knowledge she already had of nature. "You will make your papa proud one day, little scout!" he would smile.

Her elemental abilities were becoming stronger now, and she allowed the wind guide her about. Merlin, the dour Woad shaman, watched her and was proud. As proud she was of his bloodline, descended from shamans and chiefs as he was.

Dagonet and Ilara were blissfully happy; Lucan adored her and had taken to calling her mother immediately. She was content as she now had what was so sorely missing from her life – a family. She still missed her husband and son, but knew they would be happy for her.

Dagonet could only thank all the deities for sending her to him. Her soft voice and quiet ways matched his gentle nature to perfection; and he felt that at last his heart had found what it longed for, and his soul its mate.

He had wanted more children, but they had plenty of time - and had much fun 'moving furniture'; a phrase that still made Ilara giggle, like the other knights. They were his brothers and, along with their families, he could not believe the extremes they went to to ensure that he and Ilara finally found out their true feelings. He smiled, remembering that first night.

Guinevere's pregnancy, like San's, was progressing well. She was serene and happy and Arthur was devoted to her. She had long since lost any feelings for Lancelot, they had now slipped into a passing friendship. They both knew they would never be close, too many bad memories haunted them as to what might have happened; but at least they were friends, and it helped Arthur to know that all was well between his beloved wife and his beloved best friend and brother.

San was two months ahead of Guinevere in her pregnancy and her due date was imminent. Tristan was loathed to leave her; he had a dark feeling of dread with him these days, deep down he felt he would lose her - San would hug and caress him, soothing his concerns saying they were the worries of knowing she nearly passed when birthing Bethan. But he was Arthur's scout and he had to go as commanded.

Though for his part Arthur, knowing of his scout's concerns, tried to make it as little as possible.

Lancelot and Amila were becoming as inseparable as Tristan and Sandrina; and all mercilessly made fun of the former womaniser for being a devoted partner to his Woad. The knight took it all in good part, most of the time, knowing his heart had finally found its home with the woman who drove him mad with love and frustration in equal measure.

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And so time passed, six months since the night of the 'scheme'; Tristan and Bethan had only been gone one day, and were not due to return for another two.

San was in the Tavern talking to the other knights. Gawain and Galahad were chatting about two new serving maids, twin sisters apparently, that had started at the Tavern the night before. San thought how smitten they seemed with them already, so much so that neither had immediately tried to bed them - instead had been gallant and gentlemanly all night.

She looked at the two men she considered now her younger brothers; Gawain her favourite because of the love and attention he lavished on Bethan, knowing she was too heavy with child now to do as much herself. They would often laugh at the jealousy that Lucan would display to Gawain; seeing him as the only true rival for Bethan's affections as she adored the knight so, her protestations that Lucan would be the one she would marry fell on deaf ears at this time.

Lancelot sat opposite her, his back against the wall, his leg on the bench and Amila leaning back against his thigh and chest, his arms wrapped possessively around her waist - both having a contented look on their faces. Lancelot felt her gaze and looked over the top of Amila's head "I love you sister" he mouthed.

She smiled and mouthed back "and I you, brother".

"I am going riding Lancelot - coming?" Amila stood, stretching "I am too lazy and my horse needs a ride."

"Nay, not today - I will await your return my love, with my breath barely bated!" He smiled.

She kicked him "Oww! Cruel vixen! What was that for?" he laughed.

She leant forward and kissed him hard, he immediately responded – ignoring the whistles and cries of "rroouusss" from the others - "because I love you" she said into his mouth.

"The kiss or the kick?" he grinned, staring into her eyes.

"Both!" she laughed striding away towards the stables.

San had been feeling uncomfortable and sick all day; Ilara too was looking paler than usual and both women felt they would be better going back to their respective rooms for some rest.

As she stood, Ilara wobbled, she was very flushed in the face – Dagonet was immediately at her side, feeling her forehead.

She slapped his hand away with a slight laugh "Dagonet…I am…." She collapsed into his embrace.

He swept her up into his arms, worry etched across his face "She has a fever; I must put her to bed…"

"I will come with you and we can fetch Merlin on the way" San said.

As she stood she gasped, Lancelot looked at the floor "San? Where in the name of all the Heavens has all that water come from?"

Everyone turned…….

"My waters have broken - the baby is coming!"

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Lancelot led her to her room, she had to keep stopping and breathing through the contractions.

"It is…. too fast…and too soon…" she grunted "I….want Tristan…."

Lancelot cast his eyes about knowing he could not leave her, but likewise knowing that Tristan needed to be here. "Gawain!" He called in relief but urgently on spying the blond knight "go and fetch Tristan! Goddess I wish Bethan were here, she would track him in a heartbeat."

Amila rushed up moments later "What is it? Galahad has come yelling to the stables saying everyone is getting sick and I must help…"

Lancelot gave her a worried look "San is having the baby and Ilara has collapsed with a fever."

"What! I will fetch Merlin…"

"He was going to be fetched to help Ilara…."

"I will fetch the bloody healer then! My cousin needs help!" She was getting angry.

"My sister will not ail!" replied Lancelot determinedly, trying to prove he had the closer tie to the woman gasping between them.

"LOOK! I do not….give a bloody DAMN….… who you get or why…just fetch someone…… who can bloody….. HELP ME!" Exclaimed an aggravated San; she gave Lancelot a desperate look "I want….Tristan!"

Amila looked at Lancelot"I can find him quicker than Gawain; I will go with him!"

"But that means…me….I will…." He looked at Sandrina desperately.

"Well, it will put you in good stead for helping birth ours!" Amila grinned - even San smiled at the horrified look Lancelot had on his face. "Do not worry cousin; I will get your Tristan to you." and she took off "GAWAIN…GAWAIN! WAIT!"

Lancelot and Sandrina regarded each other, she laughed out loud "Brother do not fear me; I am not about to turn into a demon!"

"You say that now - but I remember too well what Bors has told us about Vanora; the spitting, the biting, the cursing…." He shuddered, She had hold of his hand as another contraction bit deep.

"…Room…now!" She gasped.

"San…my hand….." his thumb crunched, Lancelot gritted his teeth at the pain "never mind…"

They made their way slowly to her room; she was finally able to collapse on the bed.

"I will fetch Merlin…"

"NAY! He…he is….with Ilara….she is sick….I….I am doing…..what women do….every day…." She panted, sweat on her brow.

"What can I DO!" Lancelot was desperate to help her.

"Hot water…..strips of fabric….a knife…some twine….and linen…."

Lancelot went to the only place he knew he could find someone to help him get all of that; in the tavern he collided with Vanora who was just coming in to sort it out for the evening stint. "Lancelot! What on earth is the matter? You look as if all the demons of Hades are on your heels!"

"They may as well be - San is having her baby!" He gasped "VERY quickly and Ilara has collapsed. My stubborn sister will not let me fetch Merlin as he is tending Ilara; but….I am fearful Van, she says it is too fast and too soon…."

The other woman's face clouded "When her waters broke did anyone see?"

"I did…"

"Was there blood in it?"

"I do not know – it happened over there; I did not study the stuff Vanora!"

Vanora moved quickly to the puddle of fluid over by one of the tables. Blood was most definitely visible. "Something is wrong Lancelot. Get the things you need from the stores, Bors will help you; I will go back to her with them, you must fetch Merlin."

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San was surprised to see Vanora walk through the door with all the things they would need. "Oh, Van - glad I am to see you! I am sorry about the mess in the tavern, I was not expecting it…." The other woman waved away her apologies. "Where is my…….brother? Surely he did not………pass out so soon!" She smiled through gritted teeth.

"Nay, nay he has gone to fetch Merlin." She smiled and then paused.

"What is it? Is it Ilara?"

"As far as I know she is well enough; but….San…." Van paused, took a deep breath and plunged on "there was blood in your waters."

San closed her eyes "Oh God, not again – this is how it started with Bethan. Tristan's dream may yet come to pass then." she sighed.

"What dream….?"

"He dreamt I died; he would wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat - hugging me and begging me not to go. Every night this happened for a two week; it took me days to get him to tell me. He was so frightened Van and you know that is not like Tristan – he fears nothing; and now it seems he was right."

A single tear trickled down from her eye "I want him here so much Van…. "Another wave of pain washed over her "If he was here…I know…I know I would fare….better."

"Now, you listen to me - I saw you cheat death once to be with him, and we will make sure you do it again. Are you with me?" Van sounded emphatic, despite the worry in the pit of her stomach.

"Aye…"

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Gawain and Amila rode swiftly through the forest - they were following the tracks left by Tristan and Bethan.

"I hope we find them in time." Amila said worriedly.

"We will not have to…."

"What!"

"They will find us, trust me!" the knight smiled.

"You like them well, do you not?"

"Aye, they are my family now; Bethan is the light in my life. Sandrina my older sister and Tristan my brother; the only knight I am closer to is Galahad, he is like my twin.

They are all to me – When I have too much ale San puts me to bed, sobers me up, holds my hair out of the way when I am sick. Tristan laughs with me" at Amila's surprised look he smiled "he does; in his own way mayhap, but he does. He is a good friend, a good brother to me."

"That is good to hear…" said a sardonic voice from behind them; Tristan and Bethan rode into view.

"Gawain!" Cried Bethan, riding forward and hugging the knight.

"Little scout! I told Amila you would find us…" he grinned.

"We could not do otherwise, Gawain, you were making enough noise to wake the very dead!" She giggled.

Tristan had been studying his friend and the Woad. Something was wrong. "San!" he suddenly exclaimed. His worst fears were realised when Gawain nodded and Amila looked at the ground. "What is it; what has happened!"

"She has gone into labour Tristan." said Gawain.

"But it is too soon; it was to be another two week before she was to birth the baby."

"She needs you; she was asking for you…"

"Bethan ride back with Gawain – Amila and I will ride ahead – understood?"

"I will not lose her?"

"Not if I have aught to do with it…." He stroked her cheek, before he clicked his tongue and loosed his arm; the horse leant forward and the hawk wheeled high into the air before returning to settle on Bethan's arm. The two regarded each other for a moment, then the hawk inclined her head to the child; almost as if she was comforting her.

"She loves you…" said Gawain in surprise.

There was the briefest pause, as she swallowed her tears, before Bethan responded "aye, she is beautiful is she not?"

"She is Tristan's hawk though?"

"Aye…."

"What is her name?" Gawain leaned in conspiratorially.

"Father has never told you?"

"Nay, never…..would you? I promise I will not tell even Galahad."

"Could I refuse my friend?" she smiled and then stared lovingly at the bird on her arm "Hope; her name is Hope. Father named her for his life." Gawain raised a quizzical eyebrow. "He had hope for his life…."

"Deep down his quite the old romantic…." Gawain smiled.

"Gawain you have no idea. The love he lavishes on us, the affection. He maybe does not speak so much; but when he does every word is chosen to impart exactly what he wants to say. I wish to be just like him…" She spoke with such affection for Tristan, that Gawain was envious.

"You love him very much…"

"Aye, I know another put me in my mother's belly – but believe me that Tristan is my father in here" she pointed to her heart "and here" she pointed to her head. Gawain nodded, a lump in his throat.

"What of me little scout?" he grinned, leaning closer.

"I love you too, Gawain; you are my favourite knight. You always treat me like a grown up." She reached across and hugged him.

"And I you little scout. You will always be important to me; I hope if I have a daughter one day she will be just like you." he hugged her back.

She blushed and punched him arm "you've been taking flattery lessons from Lancelot; Father calls it bullshitting…."

Gawain roared "Do not let your mother ever hear you say that Bethan! Feel better?"

"Aye - you are a good friend Gawain, and I am lucky to have you. I hope it will always be so."

"Aye it will, Little Scout – you will always have a constant and unwavering friend here."

They continued their ride back to the fort; Bethan comforted by the presence and the chatter of her beloved knight.

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Lancelot arrived with Merlin. He swiftly checked San over – concern briefly flicked over his face. "I will return…"

Outside Lancelot caught him "well?"

"It is not good, I cannot lie; it is the same as before. I was concerned this would happen."

"Can you save her?" No reply "can you save her!"

"I am not sure; I was not sure then and naught has changed now, except we have all aged a few years. I can only do my best."

"Then do it, for I will not lose her" he scrubbed a hand over his eyes and muttered so quietly that Merlin strained to hear as he went back inside "I have lost enough this lifetime."

San looked to him as returned to her side, a smile fixed to his face – his charm on full "Tristan…..I want Tristan…"

"He will come sister; does he not always come when you need him?"

She smiled wanly, holding out her hand for his. Van gasped when she saw the strange angle of his thumb "she has already broke it Van, I would rather her damage the other digits on that hand than mangle both!" he smiled.

He never flinched as she once again gripped the hand with the damaged thumb "Brother, you know I love you?"

"Of course sister, did you not sacrifice your own family to save me?" his voice was thick with emotion.

"I sacrificed no family – I chose my brother over my cousin is all." She gasped as another wave of pain came.

"Is it very bad?"

"Aye, but the end result is worth it…" she smiled, the sweat pouring off her "is that not right San?"

"Aye lass that is, I love each and every one of my bairns." Van pushed Lancelot out of the way to see how far along Sandrina was…."Not long now San….not too long now my pet" She glanced worriedly at Lancelot as he immediately resumed his place.

Bors appeared at the door "Well, how is my little wench!" he grinned "not popped your second yet?"

"Oh Bors, I am not an old hand at this like your Van!"

"Ah little wench", he walked in and rubbed her head "you will be well."

Van dragged him outside"there is much blood - fetch Merlin!"

"She will not….die will she?" his face fell.

"Honestly? I do not know….I do not."

He strode quickly away.

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Elsewhere Dagonet was frantically pacing around a restless Ilara. "What is wrong with her Merlin?" He asked.

"She has a fever brought on by an infection. It seems she has had an…injury - an internal one and a dormant infection has flared."

"Internal injury? How; where?"

"She was in a village sacked by Romans was she not?"

"Aye, but….oh…I see…" he rubbed his hands over his eyes "she never said aught to me of it."

"Women feel ashamed of this – even though it is not their fault. She mayhap thought you would reject her - even though you would not.." he nodded his head to still Dagonet's protests.

"Will she live?"

"It is hopeful, but not certain. I must go, Sandrina needs me too."

"How is she?"

"Not good Dagonet – we may yet lose her." He sighed sadly "The Goddess tests me sorely this day."

Bors appeared "Merlin, we need help; San is bad - there is much blood, my Van says."

"I will return as quickly as I can." He nodded to Dagonet and left.

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"PUSH! You must push! San!" cried Lancelot.

"I am bloody pushing, you bastard! Piss off and leave me alone!" She grunted at him.

"I am just trying to help you, you harpy!" he flinched as she gave his hand another vicious squeeze as the pain rose again.

"I am sorry Lancelot, I am……" she gasped with pain.

Vanora was about to open the door, but it was rocked back on its hinges as Tristan burst into the room "Sandrina!" He saw all the bloody sheets in Vanora's arms, panic gripped him briefly before controlled himself "you started without me…" he smiled, pushing the fear and worry down and walking to her; his face as passive and his voice as calm as ever.

"Tristan….oh Tristan…..I missed you…" she whispered.

"I am here now and I will not leave you again until you are well, you will not leave me San…..you will not." Merlin entered "Help her!" he hissed.

Lancelot watched in wonder at the control that Tristan had over his emotions; if it were he and Alima he would not have such mastery over his feelings.

"I am doing all I can boy; but until the babe is born I can do no more now."

With one last final heave, San pushed her baby out into the world. A lusty scream rent the air"a good pair of lungs at least…." Smiled Vanora.

"Now I can try to help her; but first we must stop the bleeding."

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Bors stood with Dagonet"Will she live my friend?"

"He thinks there as a chance, but it will be a time yet before we know. He… he said…." Dagonet swallowed "He said if she does there will be no children. Bors…." The gentle giant of a knight leant his head on the wall by his brother, and wept.

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As Merlin worked on Sandrina, knowing he would soon need to return to Ilara - he asked the Goddess, the earth, the wind, destiny, fate and even Arthur's God why they would torment these souls so.

Arthur paced outside Tristan's room; also knowing Ilara lay close to death in Dagonet's. "Dear God, spare them - please. They hold the hearts and souls of two of the most honourable and noble men I have known. These men deserve happiness, and not just they – Galahad, Gawain and Bors will miss Sandrina; but most of all Lancelot. She is a sister to him, even laying down the blood of her own kin to save him on the field of battle.

Ilara will be missed by them too; she is well liked by the knights for making Dagonet so happy and having such a gentle soul. She is his rock as San is Tristan's and I fear for us all without them."

Along with him, Gawain and Galahad paced back and forth. Guinevere stood to one side, her hand on her own swollen abdomen; Arthur went to her "All will be well my love you will see."

He heard a lusty scream - Lancelot rushed out "she has had it! She has had it!"

"What is it?"

"A baby!"

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And so the wheels of Destiny turn on. Will the women survive, is destiny's path finally coming to an end….?