Chapter 2

Meet Arthur and More Pain

Disclaimer: If you haven't already figure out, I didn't come up this the idea of King Arthur and others… ergo, the only thing I own is Nastya and plot. I am not making money.

About the Chapter: It may seem a bit dark and beastly, however things WILL get better. Don't worry the knights aren't this bad, this is just the way bottom. Also you might notice that this chapter is a wee more sarcastic than the first one, and that's because I'm in a grumpy mood, FYI-- don't mess with someone whose quitting cigs…

…JK, shees relax. The real reason is I wanted to show the relationship between Nastya and knights, and who she really is. She's a tough-as-nails healer/slave that has to tell herself that everything will be okay. Enjoy the chapter, and just for your info, the italics means sarcasm, but I'm sure you would have figure that out.

Thank Yous: My first thank-you goes to KnightMadien and Mistakenlove. This was my first fanfcition, and having two reviews made my day. Thanks.

Arthur was nonplused. Not only was he sore, hungry, tired and smelled like human diarrhea; he just found out that his new legendary knights that he acquired with this position not only trashed the only traven in the area, in which he got a very lengthy lecture from the owner on how he wouldn't take their or Roman's crap any more, but after 15 minutes of waiting for them to get their ass down here, he got a message from a servant that only 3 out of the fifteen knights are able to come downstairs because the other 12 were currently passed out or nursing injures. And to top it out, the only competent healer at this current outpost refuses to see any of the knights, the new recruits from Rome or the old passed out/injure ones, because she is fixing up one of the wenches that a knight, he believed 'Sir Kay', went wild on, or at least she was healing the girl. She didn't respond to the second massager or third or fourth.

Arthur sighed, all he wanted to do was met his new knights, bathe, sleep, then scout the land. He also had a feeling that that's what his knight wanted too. With that in mind Arthur told the servant to fetch the remaining knights. Once the servant left he looked around at his peers and thought about the long journey they took. His men hated him at first, viewing him as the enemy, thus they eschewed his company and leaving him alone. Despite that fact, during the two month journey from Rome he was able to gain their respect, but that was it. While he hoped that his new knights would be different, however he began to feel that that was being extremely optimistic.

THUD…THUD…THUD…BOOM

Arthur inwardly groaned, he was right; he was extremely optimistic. After this moment of 'why me', Arthur opened his eyes and saw three extremely handsome and worn-out 20-something-year-old men who look extremely pissed off that they were here. 'Same thoughts here' thought Arthur.

"My new commander, may I present Sir Kay," the dirty blond knight with dried blond on his left check and a very bruised knuckle, "Sir Trisen", the dark exotic knight with a blood encrusted pants, a stitched leg wound, and two bruised knuckles that looked like blood/dirt incrusted, "and myself, "Sir Lancelot" the brunette knight looked like he just step out of a war. The three of them made quite a forcible team. Arthur quickly saw that it was near impossible to earn their respect. Men like that don't view and think in the powers in the mind, instead they base their beliefs into things that matter the most to them; fighting, killing, power, sexual skills and elapids. Also, he feared that if he didn't get through them, the rest of the fifteen men will reject him as well. Almost all that matters lay within these men and their acts.

At this point Arthur had one thought: Do I even want to know or leave their fight with Gods-knows what to a later time? Hell yah, "I will speak about this crude behavior when all of the knights are present. I do not desire a repeat on this behavior again, it's disgusting and barbaric. However, at the moment, I wish to see the head healer right now, but I've been told that she refuses to see any one; I wish to see her myself in order for her to look at one of my knights. Will any of you care to explain why she refuses a direct order? "

At this moment Arthur was questioning the knights, 'is she like you or is there a specific reason'. Arthur prayed it was for some unforeseen reason onto why she hadn't responded to his manservant, not because she just didn't feel like coming down. Lord knows that he needs a normal healer, not the stunning raven-hair healer that was a complete air-head that he unfortunately acquired her through 'high' recommendations. However, unlike normal recommendations, it seems that her recommendations were based upon her looks and sexually ability. Arthur guessed that her previous commanders didn't care that her abilities ended with wiping your forehead with a wet rag. When it came to healing the main fact remained, looks don't do a danm thing when you're dying.

At this comment Sir Kay laughed, "All you have to is 'ask' in a special way and she'll help you, though I do believe today she might be out of commission."

"Why?" Sir Lancelot asked, then directing his glace at Tristan, "you didn't beat her up that bad." 'Great, now their women beaters,' thought Arthur, just the icing on the cake.

"I didn't, she should be just sore at the very most. Kay would you care to fill in," Tristan said very quietly.

" Well, after she fixed up that wench I was with last night, she came to me, demanding that I pay the bill and take of her living expenses for the next three weeks. Well you know me I don't like being told what to do, so I simply picked her up and tossed her into her dresser, but… that was an hour or two ago. She just needs a wake up call, and everything will be just fine. What do you say Tristen, are you up to the job?" At this point Arthur didn't know what to do, these men were beyond his help. They were savages, not able to comprehend that life needs to be enjoyed, not destroyed time after time. Maybe he should just ask for a transfer, and let the Empire assigned these men a commander like him. Arthur just couldn't, and refuse to, imagine himself leading barbarians that contradict his' beliefs and values.

"It's fine, I've use the healer that we brought with us, though she isn't that good, she'll do. Just tell your healer I wish for her to join us tonight from dinner, no excuses." The knights knew a dismissal when they heard one. With a grateful nod, they left; leaving a very worn out commander in their stead.

Arthur just laughed at himself once the knights left. He was by himself, in the very land that betrayed him, surrounded by, well there was no word for them, and he absolutely no clue in heaven or hell on how he was going to survive this ordeal. Realizing that it was not at all funny, he quietly went to go find his infamous healer to get his head checked. What a mess he got himself into.

Nastya now remembered why she didn't go into the personal matters of the knights; usually because it didn't change anything and on occasion she got the shit kick out of her. But, Anita, the poor whore that Kay choose to desiccate, came in looking more like a piece of meat than a fifteen year-old girl. Bruises dolor, a trail of blood made small rivers in her inner thigh, small knife like cuts craved into her small white abdomen, and her face, it would take at least three weeks to make it look normal. The guards said that she was found on the streets, robed. Nastya didn't know if the girl would make it, and it she did live, how would she survive until her face and body recovered, because no one would pay for a beaten girl.

Nastya thought she could make Kay pay some of her living expenses, but it seemed that she forgot one small detail, it was Kay, the knight who lacked the shinny armor and made up for it in sadistic treatment to the weaker folks. Lord knows how he thrived on making women screaming in pain and fear, in fact the women feared him more than the Saxons, because sure death is welcomed over unimaginable horrors. Well, thought Nastya, he certainty had his way last night, and he wouldn't even get penalize for this conduct. Just jolly for women.

Nastya sighed and slowly got up; first rolling onto her knees, and then griping the nightstand where her bed uses to lay. On the third attempt she was able to stand. The bruises from Tristen combined with be thrown into the dresser was too much for her body to handle. Sighing she turned to where Anita was currently laying on the remains of her bed. Nastya knew that poor girl since she was ten-years-old. Her mother died while giving birth to her. Her father was a stupid but noble man that truly loved his wife, but after his wife died he lost all control. Some say the only reason why Anita survived was because of her grandmother. Between the two, they were able to survive on barely anything while the father drank away his life and gambling their family into poverty. Faced with two weeks to come up with 20 pounds, he deicide to sell his' daughter's virginity to the highest bidder, she was only 11-years-old. Once the deed was done, he threw her out calling her a 'whore'. 'Forget whose faults that was.' Nastya snorted, 'men the great rules of Earth, us mere women can't live without them. Humph, give me a society where women rule and there's Utopia.'

After making sure that the girl was as comfortable as she was going to get, Nastya turned to the mirror in her room, and the sight that greeted her was not pretty; one black eye, her right cheek was bruised swollen and multicolored, and the final, a gash ran from her lower left eye to her cheek apples, thus coloring her face a maroon red (form all the blood) and dirt brown from the floor. Her face looked like fucking rainbow.

Knock… Knock…Knock – Aw great just what I need 'the' disturber of the peace-- Nastya are you in there. I know you in there. Don't make me break down this fuckin door.—Like hell he would-- CRASH BOOM-- Bye Bye door.

"My God in the hell fuckin happen to you" Enter Simon, the fifteen year-old Briton errand boy. He had this uncanning ability to state the obvious.

"Simon take a guess."

"Well, I did hear that Kay…"

"Simon why are you here?" Nastya cut in, Simon usually had errands to do and he usually didn't knock down doors as a greeting.

"Why Arthur, the new Roman commander, is waiting for you with the knights. He's been waiting for you for over an hour. They hadn't eaten dinner yet or anything. We weren't able to find you"

'Shit, thought Nastya, it looks like I'll be adding more color to my face tonight. She walked to the dinning hall where the wolfs waited, that is, she walked with as much dignity her body would allow. 'And they say women are cowards. Please'.

Arthur's day went to bad to worse to fuckin hell. Him and the men were still injured and need treatment. Everyone was too afraid to go to Sonia, the infamous healer, and deicide to stay in pain. As guessed, this just made everyone tension and even moodier, yes it was possible. Now throw in very, very hungry grown men and you have Arthur's situation. He was waiting for Nastya, this command post healer, to show up, so they could eat the damn food. A few of the older knights wanted to go find her and bring her back, but Arthur thought it was best for her health that they stay here. He really wanted to meet her; the rumor was that the only reason why the men stayed alive for so long was because of her. Also, if she able to take the beatings from these 'men', Arthur thought that was being generous, and lived to tell, she must be something.

Creak

The room went completely silent. It seemed that Arthur would finally meet her. He envision a tall and svelte young women whose beauty was incomparably. He found himself holding his' breath…

R/R; My fellow reader, maybe there would be another in the bleak future—crosses fingers and hold breath—I hope you didn't find my small chapter dully and boring.. Who knows maybe it will get better as time progress forward-- you know, like old cheese.

G0lden D0ll