Thanks for all the reviews! Especially to MWP for your ideas. Here's the next chapter.

I have another story going as well (the sequel to my first, Arthur's Assassin) so updates here might be a bit slow from now on.

I went to sleep early the next night, hoping that I would have the same dream again. It took me a while to fall asleep, but when I did I became the hawk. It was so strange, having no arms and only wings. My senses were so much sharper, and I could fly – or at least, I would when I was bigger.

I was on Tristan's shoulder. He was sitting at a table with several other men, all looking at least slightly younger than himself. Beside Tristan was another dark haired man, but his hair was short and curly. He had twinkling black eyes and a wickedly handsome grin. He looked to be a couple of years younger than the person I know thought of as master.

I could smell smoke from torches on the wall, mixing with the strangely comforting scent of Tristan. It was night time, the sky dark overhead. The tavern nearby was busy, with girls taking drinks to all the men.

An the other side of the table were two others. The dark haired one had longer hair that was curly and flopped over his face. His beard was just starting to grow, and his light brown eyes were bright. He was about sixteen or so.

Across from Tristan and beside the younger man was someone almost as old as my master. He had tawny hair tied up behind his head and dancing blue eyes. He drank deeply, eyeing a passing barmaid.

'Eyes off her, Gawain,' the man beside Tristan growled. 'She's mine.'

Gawain snorted into his drink and set his drink down. 'Really, Lancelot?' he asked, grinning. He called to the girl. 'Hey! Nadia!'

The girl walked over, flipping back her long black hair. 'Yes, handsome?' she asked flirtatiously. She sat on Gawain's lap and he grinned at Lancelot.

'Lancelot and I were disputing over who you prefer,' Gawain said, holding the girl on his lap.

'Why, you, of course!' Nadia laughed, throwing back her head and giving Gawain a quick kiss.

She winked at Lancelot as she got up. Galahad watched them with amusement. Tristan didn't say anything, but I felt his muscles tense under his shirt.

'Hey, Tristan,' Lancelot grinned, turning to him.

I ruffled my feathers and shifted uneasily. The other man was much too close for my liking.

'Are you ever going to ask Wenda to marry you?' he asked, a wicked gleam in his dark eyes. 'Because if you don't, that means she's free… and you know how much she admires me…'

He grinned, obviously joking, and the other two laughed. I felt Tristan tense even further, although his voice and face were neutral.

'She's mine, Lancelot,' he said softly. 'Stay away from her.'

'I will,' Lancelot grinned, drinking deeply from his cup. 'But will she stay away from me?'

He laughed again with the other two, obviously still joking. Tristan didn't seem to find it funny.

I listened with interest. Obviously Lancelot was a great womaniser. He was very good looking, mmy human mind thought.Hang on… my human brain struggled to work in a bird's body. Lancelot, Gawain and Tristan… they were the names of Arthur's knights. The knights of the Round Table! I was dragged back to what was happening by Tristan.

He turned his head sharply, looking at a woman who had just entered. She was fair skinned, her hair a beautiful golden blonde that fell past her waist in a curling curtain. Her face was slightly sharp, and I didn't like her eyes. Her eyes were pale blue and colder than ice. She was not a woman to be trusted.

All the same, I felt a stab of jealousy. What wouldn't I give to have skin that colour, hair like that and a body to match? No doubt she would have long slim legs and a perfect build.

'Wenda,' Tristan called, a rare smile breaking out onto his face.

The woman gave a smile that made my feathers ruffle. She sat down between Tristan and Lancelot. Her blue eyes widened when she saw me.

'A pet bird!' she cooed. 'How pretty!'

She reached out to touch me. I snapped, my sharp beak tearing through the fragile white flesh of her finger. She shrieked and leant back, almost pushing Lancelot off the bench.

'It bites!' she said, her eyes wide as she stared at the blood welling around the gash. 'Tristan, that bird is horrible! Get rid of it!'

Tristan stood and I spread my wings slightly to balance. He gave a slight grin and an ironic bow that made me click my beak in anger as I almost fell.

'I'll take her away, Wenda,' he replied. 'I'll be back shortly.'

Wenda smiled prettily and waved her hand as if dismissing him. Tristan turned and walked into the cool darkness of the knight. He transferred me to his arm where he could look at me.

'What was that for, beautiful?' he whispered. 'Wenda's nice. I love her, we may be married eventually. You shouldn't harm her.'

I snapped my beak, wishing I could talk and tell him that Wenda was a snake, a serpent who shouldn't be trusted. I could see it in her eyes – she didn't truly love Tristan. She was using him.

Tristan put me on my perch in his room. He gave me fresh meat, which I ate hungrily before leaving. I called out urgently, trying to tell him not to go back to Wenda.

He just smiled and gave me a last piece of meat before closing the door behind him. I shifted on my perch, trying to get comfortable. I wanted to warn him not to trust Wenda. No matter what he did, she would betray him. It was plain to me, but to his sight she was just a beautiful woman that he thought he loved.

I woke in a panic. It was late at night – my clock said just after midnight. The taste of meat was in my mouth – raw meat. As a bird it had tasted wonderful – now it seemed disgusting.

I got out of bed and went to the bathroom. I cleaned my teeth thoroughly, trying to get the horrible taste out of my mouth. That dream had seemed so real, and so had the one the night before. Was it possible that it had been real?

My heart was beating painfully fast. I lay back down in bed and tried to get back to sleep. Whatever else the dreams were, they were interesting. I wanted them to continue.

I woke and chirped sleepily as light spilled in the doorway. Tristan entered and shut the door, walking over to me. I stretched, expanding my wings and raising my head up.

'You're growing quickly,' Tristan whispered. I could smell the ale on his breath. 'Soon I'll be able to set you free.'

I clicked my beak. He smiled and got ready for bed. I didn't want to go back to sleep. For the rest of the night I watched Tristan, hopping around the room from perch to perch.

In the morning he woke early at dawn. He gave me more meat, then went off somewhere leaving me in the room. I tried out my wings, and found to my delight that I could almost fly. In a few more days I would be able to fly.

'Careful,' Tristan's voice came from the doorway. 'I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself in here.'

I flapped over to him, landing rather inelegantly on his arm. I made a rasping noise in the back of my throat, and he smiled.

'Come on,' he said. 'You can come with us.'

I settled better on his arm, noticing that he now wore a leather glove on his hand so my talons wouldn't cut into his skin. He left the building, threading his way through the mass of people around the fort. He went to the stable and the same man was holding his horse ready for him.

'Thanks, Jols,' Tristan said, taking the horse's reins.

'No problem,' Jols replied cheerfully. 'Safe journey.'

Tristan nodded as he swung into the saddle. I squawked as I was nearly thrown off his arm. I flapped my wings, trying to regain my balance as he grinned.

'Sorry, little bird,' he whispered.

He kicked the stallion into a canter and left the fort. I liked the open ground much better than being stuck in the fort amongst a lot of people. The wind whistled around my head as Tristan's stallion picked up his pace.

I wanted so much to fly, but I knew that I wasn't good enough yet. Tristan seemed preoccupied, checking for tracks as he galloped.

At last, around midday, he stopped in the shade of the trees. He offered the stallion a drink, then me from his cupped hand. I took a mouthful of water, then stretched my wings out. I wanted to fly, but Tristan seemed to know what I was intending.

'Don't try,' he said, taking a drink himself. 'You're not ready yet.'

I snapped my beak, but he just smiled and loosened the girth on the saddle. He sat down with me beside him and started to eat.

'You know, girl,' he said softly to me. 'I've been in service to Rome for twelve years. And I've got three more years before I can be free.' He looked like he was watching something no one else could see.

I chirped softly and flicked my wings, trying to communicate my sympathy. He smiled sadly.

'I've always been different,' he whispered. 'Always. I don't know why, but I have. The others know it too.'

He watched something far away before shaking his head. When he spoke again, his voice was strong and hard.

'I'm scouting,' he said to me. 'I'll return to the fort tomorrow and tell Arthur what I've found.' He frowned. 'Those bloody Woads are getting bolder every day. My news won't be good.'

He sighed restlessly and ran a hand down the back of my head. I snapped, and he jerked his hand away with a slight smile.

'I've always preferred animals,' he said, his face taking on the faraway look again. 'If you are good enough for them, they accept you. If you're not, then…'

He smiled slightly before his face went back to its normal indifferent mask.

'Enough talking,' he said, springing to his feet. 'Let's get going.'

Tristan tightened the stallion's girth and swung into the saddle, heading off at a fast trot. He stopped more often to look at the tracks, and often dismounted to follow the footprints for a while before returning to his horse.

I stayed perched on his arm, occasionally taking to the air when he stopped and dismounted. I was getting better at flying, and my progress was encouraging – but more often than not I ended up in an undignified heap on the ground.

At last it was evening, and I was tired out from trying to fly all day. Besides that, horseback was not the way for a bird to travel. I thought for a while that Tristan would simply continue on in the dark, but at last he halted in a thick patch of woodland.

He made no fire, but gave me fresh meat as he made his horse comfortable.

'A fire would alert every dam Woad in the forest where we are,' he said softly to me as he untacked the stallion. 'I could do without that kind of attention.'

I fluttered my wings, then settled more comfortably on the thick branch of a tree. I gave a last look at Tristan, who was eating salted meat as he brushed sweat out of his horse's coat. Then I tucked my head under my wing and fell asleep.

'Jenny! Jenny, get up!'

'Huh?' I asked sleepily, raising my head and yawning.

'It's past ten!' my mother scolded. 'You should have been up an hour ago.

'Yeah yeah,' I muttered as she left, closing the door.

Another night of becoming the hawk. It was Sunday morning. I got up and found that the muscles along my upper arms were sore and stiff.

Wonderful. Strained muscles from a night of flying. Of course I couldn't tell anyone that – who would believe me?