Author's note: I'm going to be using Lancelot as the narrator, but the story is not from his point of view. I guess you could say I'm making him an omniscient narrator, though he does not necessarily play a significant role in the events. I hope readers can follow me on this, if not, I apologize in advance.


"So you are Lancelot." Cassia Gaius, a Roman woman of about fifty years, leaned her head out of her carriage and addressed the knight with curly dark hair who rode beside the carriage on his horse, carrying twin blades on his back. Cassia's poise and formality reflected her high ranking. She was the wife of Senator Gaius, an influential politician in Rome. "My daughter has written to me of you," Cassia continued.

Lancelot smirked, "Lucia and I have become very well acquainted."

Cassia frowned disapprovingly, "Do refresh my memory on how you two met."

"Well," Lancelot began cheerily, ignoring Cassia's cold expression, "I met Lucia similarly to how I have just made your acquaintance. It is rare anymore for Sarmatian knights to be required to escort Roman caravans. The Roman cavalries can easily see to that now that the rebel woad forces are starting to dwindle, but of course, high ranking families such as yourselves can afford, shall we say, more competent protection."

"I have heard of the skilled Sarmatian Knights mentioned in Rome," Cassia said without seeming the least bit impressed and quickly changed the subject back to her daughter, "You say Lucia required your escort?"

"Yes," Lancelot replied, "I met Lucia as the knights and I accompanied her and her brother, your son Marcellus, back to their estate just north of Hadrian's wall several months past."

"Tristan, ride ahead." Cassia turned her attention to Arthur Castus, the leader of the Sarmatian knights, who gave his order to one of the knights, a man with dark braided hair.

"That is Tristan?" Cassia asked Lancelot as she watched Tristan ride off ahead of the caravan.

"You know of Tristan?" Lancelot asked in return.

"I know that my daughter detests him," Cassia replied, the corner of her mouth discretely rising into the faintest of smirks. It was the first glimpse of emotion Lancelot had seen from her.

"I suspect it is quite the opposite, actually," Lancelot suggested.

"Intriguing," said Cassia, "And does he return her feelings?"

"I presume your daughter has not written to you of Jillian," Lancelot said more as a statement than a question.

"She has not," Cassia replied,

"Well," Lancelot said, "That is a bit of a long story. It is a good story, though, to be sure. A story of love---"

"Young man," interrupted Cassia, "I am nearly fifty years of age. There is not a love story left I have not heard." Lancelot nodded and was about to urge his horse forward when Cassia spoke again to him, "But I never said I didn't like them. We still have a long journey yet ahead of us until we reach the wall. You will tell me of this knight they call Tristan---and of Jillian."


My ladyship, it will be of great use for you to know that Tristan is a man of few words. I have known him since childhood, yet I cannot say I have ever really known him at all. I beseech that your ladyship not use this information as an excuse to be skeptical of my retelling of these events. You have entrusted me with the narration of this story, and I ask only that you likewise trust my omniscience.

As I disclosed to you previously, we had been assigned to escort Lucia Gaius and her brother Marcellus Gaius to their estate just north of Hadrian's wall. Jillian sat crouched behind a tree next to her younger brother Einar. They were woads. Jillian and Einar were also joined by other woads who were planning an attack on our caravan. "Arthur and the Sarmatian knights are with them," reported one of the elder woads. Jillian turned anxiously to Einar. This ambush would be his first taste of battle. "Do not pick a fight with a Sarmatian," she warned him, "You can tell the difference between Roman and Sarmatian, right?" Einar nodded, but somehow she knew he had not taken her words as seriously as she had meant them.

The caravan was directly in front of them now. Jillian watched as a fellow warrior took aim with his bow and dispatched an arrow into the chest of one of the Roman soldiers. She and the other woads let out their battle cries and charged the caravan. The woads fought bravely, but they quickly began to realize that there were not enough of them to be truly effective against the masterful Sarmatian knights who surrounded the Roman carriages protectively.

Jillian was a skilled fighter, and easily slayed three Roman soldiers one right after another. This was what she lived for. After she had brought the third soldier to the ground, she looked up and searched for Einar amidst the skirmish. Her heart stopped when her eyes found Einar engaging one of the Sarmatian knights. She recognized the knight from previous battles. He had braided hair and used a curved sword. Einar would be know match for his skill.

Jillian raced over to them. She could not bear to see her brother fall, not today. Einar lunged at Tristan who easily dodged the blow and lifted his sword to strike. "Einar!" Jillian screamed as she blocked Tristan's sword with her own just in time and kicked Einar out of the way. Einar stumbled away frustrated. Jillian glared intensely into the face of the Sarmatian knight who stared back at her emotionless, but with a hint of respect in his eyes.

Jillian swung her sword at the knight, but he easily blocked the swing, turned, and slashed her across her midriff. The wound was not deep, but it was enough for her to yelp out in pain. There would be no honor in finishing this kill, Tristan thought, she was only trying to protect the boy. Tristan instead simply discarded her, pushing her over to the ground. He turned and quickly ended the life of another woad who came at him from behind.

Jillian broke her fall with one outstretched arm while gripping her bleeding stomach with the other. She winced in pain at the impact of the fall. A moment later, she took in a deep breath, picked up her sword, and stood. Tristan turned to see Jillian standing sword in hand, not ready to give up. Tristan stared into her eyes and for a brief second thought he was looking into his own. Jillian raised her sword to strike when she heard the sound of a horn in the distance calling for her retreat. She backed away slowly lowering her sword, and Tristan lowered his as well.

Jillian limped back into the forest, keeping pressure on her bleeding stomach with her hand. She saw Einar waiting for her, and she ran up to him and embraced him. A moment later, she pulled away and slapped him across the face. "Don't you ever do that again!" she scolded. Einar looked down at Jillian's wound and guilt flooded his face. "I'm sorry," he said softly.


The caravan reached the estate safely with the loss of only a couple dozen Roman soldiers and a few the Gaius' servants. Tristan dismounted his horse and began walking towards the other knights who were congregated around Marcellus Gaius at the gates of the estate. As he passed by one of the carriages a woman's arm reached out from the window and touched his soldier. He turned to see a lavishly dressed Roman woman with dark curly hair and bright blue eyes staring back at him. "I dropped my hankerchief," she said placidly, pointing down at the ground where a white, silk piece of cloth lay on the ground. Tristan wordlessly picked it up and handed it to her. "I thank you," she said formally. The woman stepped out of the carriage and added, "I am Lucia." Tristan nodded and continued on his way. "You mean to insult me by not telling me your name in return?" she asked, letting her annoyance show through her voice.

"Tristan," he answered simply, without turning back to her. Tristan reached Arthur, Marcellus, and the rest of the knights and mumbled to Gawain, "What did I miss?"

"Marcellus wants some of us to remain at the estate," said Gawain. Tristan raised an eyebrow. "He's complaining that the woads have been making repeated attacks," Gawain explained, "and he wants us to stay behind and help what's left of the Roman cavalry here to drive out the woads stationed nearby."

Tristan turned his attention now to Arthur who was trying to reason with Marcellus. "I'm sorry, Marcellus," Arthur said, "but my knights are needed back at the wall---"

"One, then," Marcellus bargained, "Leave me one Sarmatian knight here. Surely Arthur, you, a loyal Roman citizen, would not leave a fellow Roman defenseless against the native rebels." As he said this, Lucia strode over to the group and whispered something into her brother's ear.

Arthur sighed, turning to the knights with a sympathetic look. "Dagonet," he addressed, "I'm sorry to ask this of you, but would you be willing---"

"Of course," Dagonet replied with a slight nod.

Marcellus approached Dagonet with a scrutinizing look and searched the knight's kind eyes. "No, not him," Marcellus objected. "Him," Marcellus said, abruptly turning and pointing in Tristan's direction. Lucia gave a satisfied smile. Tristan stared back at Marcellus stolidly.

"Tristan," Arthur said soberly, "You're under no obligation to---"

"I'll do it," Tristan interrupted curtly, meeting Marcellus's gaze and staring him directly in the eyes. There was something about Marcellus that Tristan did not entirely trust. A devious grin spread across Marcellus's face. "Excellent," he said, "This way please." Tristan followed Marcellus and Lucia through the gates along with the other Roman soldiers. He turned around briefly to see Arthur and the rest of the knights riding away back into the forest, leaving him in the sole company of Romans.