Morning had past, and Arthur still had not arrived. The journey to Marcus Octavius's estate would be long one, for he lived a two days' ride west. For this reason, an entourage of wagons and carriages were being assembled outside the gates with supplies. Tristan walked through the courtyard where he had seen Jillian the day before. He did not know why he wanted to see her. She hated him now. It was probably best just to let her go. Tristan watched as a servant girl he did not recognize brought two empty buckets to the pump and started to fill them with water.

'Where is Jillian?' he wondered. He recalled that she had never returned to redress his bandages. The servant girl was interrupted by a Roman guard who pulled her by the arm towards the back of the courtyard and around the corner. Tristan raised an eyebrow, but then shook his head. He probably did not want to know.

Tristan heard voices and turned to see Arthur and the rest of the Sarmatian knights striding towards him.

"There he is!" Bors called out boisterously, "Had enough of being pampered at the Roman estate, have ya?" Tristan frowned.

"It's good to see you," Arthur said sincerely.

They suddenly heard a commotion from across the courtyard. Arthur turned and watched suspiciously as two Roman soldiers led several chained workers through the courtyard and around the corner, as the other Roman soldier had done with the servant girl. Arthur unsheathed Excalibur and followed them. If there was only a single thing to be counted on in this world, it was Arthur's idealistic nature.

Tristan and the rest of the knights followed Arthur who followed the Roman soldiers to an area behind the courtyard sectioned off by iron bars. 'The slaves quarters,' Tristan presumed to himself. The head Roman guard could be heard speaking to one of his soldiers. "The Gaiuses leave today. The workers are to be kept in here till morning. Then I am in charge," he briefed the soldier.

Arthur marched over to where they stood. "What is the meaning of this?" he demanded.

"These people attacked the Gaius's estate. They are prisoners of Rome," recited the head guard. Arthur gave him a skeptical look.

Tristan spoke suddenly, tired of all the deception. "There were no attacks," he said, "I assure you their imprisonment was unprovoked." Tristan was unsure if he meant his words to clear his conscience or simply to spite Marcellus and Lucia.

"Unprovoked?" spat the Roman guard, "These people are rebels." Arthur peered through the bars at the pitiful state of the people inside.

"Arthur!" Marcellus called, approaching the group with a ceremonious smile, "There you are!"

Arthur ignored him and turned to the guard. "Open this gate," he ordered. The guard turned his eyes questioningly to Marcellus. "Open this gate!" Arthur repeated, raising his voice to a shout.

"What is going on?" Marcellus asked. His smile had faded.

Still ignoring Marcellus, Arthur raised Excalibur to the guard's throat. "I will not ask again," he threatened. The other soldiers drew their swords, but the Sarmatian knights drew theirs in return. The head guard nodded to his men to stand down and fumbled through his keys and unlocked the barred gate.

"Unchain these people," Arthur ordered the other Roman soldiers.

"You are out of line, sir!" Marcellus cried lividly. Arthur glared back at him; then walked through the now open gate to supervise as the Roman guards freed their prisoners. The knights followed him inside.

"I am the son of a Roman senator---" Marcellus screeched, following close behind.

"And I would expect the son of a Roman senator to be above this kind of exploitation!" Arthur yelled in return, waving his sword in Marcellus's face. Marcellus was a man of words, not of action. He was a coward easily persuaded by the prospect of being wrung through with a blade of iron.

Tristan turned his attention to a figure crumpled on the floor in the corner. Jillian. She lay motionless on the stone ground, her body covered in cuts and bruises. He knelt down beside her. Her eyes cracked open slightly and she looked up at him. "Tristan?" she whispered, closing her eyes again. Tristan scooped her up in his arms and stood. "Am I still like you?" she murmured senselessly, not opening her eyes.

"No," Tristan answered; then thought to himself, 'You are better.'

Tristan carried her through the courtyard, motioning for Dagonet to follow him. They marched purposefully towards the entourage of carriages and wagons outside the main gate. Lucia stood outside one of the carriages staring at them in shock, but Tristan ignored her, looking straight ahead and carrying Jillian into one of the covered wagons. Dagonet followed close behind.

Tristan gently set her down and watched as she lay trembling, drifting in and out of unconsciousness. Her head rolled from side to side. "Einar….Einar…" she murmured. Tristan felt a hand touch his shoulder. "I will look after her," Dagonet assured him. Tristan nodded and exited the wagon.

The verbal sparring between Arthur and Marcellus reached a stalemate with the reasoning that they should try to make as much headway on their journey before nightfall as possible. Marcellus threatened, however, that he would not soon forget Arthur's insubordination. Tristan rode ahead as always, noting the freed woads escaping into the forest. He hoped Marcellus was watching. It occurred to him that he would probably fight those same woads in the future as they once again attacked Roman caravans. He shrugged to himself. He would have no qualms or trouble killing them when that time came.

Upon his return, Tristan decided to check on Jillian. Several hours had past since he had left her in Dagonet's care, and the sun had almost finished setting. He entered the wagon to find her sitting up sleepily, resting her back against the side wall of the wagon and smiling at Dagonet, who touched his hand to her shoulder. He had just finished telling her of Arthur's freeing of the people at the Gaius estate.

Tristan cleared his throat. "We'll be stopping in about an hour to set up camp," he announced, not knowing what else to say. Dagonet nodded and moved over to the other side of the wagon to let Tristan sit by Jillian.

"Dagonet said you found me," she said, "Thank you."

Tristan nodded. "Are you---okay?" he asked.

"I'm a fast healer," she responded, "It looks worse than it is."

"She's doing much better now that she's regained consciousness," Dagonet interjected.

"Who did this to you?" Tristan asked. Jillian turned away.

"She won't say," Dagonet answered for her.

"Did they---hurt---you?" Tristan asked instead. Jillian held out her battered arms and gave him a quizzical look.

"No, I mean, did they---" Tristan's voice held discomfort.

"Did they rape me?" asked Jillian for him bluntly, "No."

Tristan exhaled with relief. He would not have thought any less of her, but he was relieved she had not been hurt in that way.

Jillian paused, then added with a smirk, "You see, he was a nice looking bloke, so I consented." Dagonet let out a hearty laugh, but Tristan was not amused.

"I'll be back shortly," Dagonet announced as he got up and exited the wagon. Tristan shifted uncomfortably and was about to leave as well when Jillian spoke.

"Do you believe in heaven?" she asked.

"I don't know," Tristan answered. He had never really thought about it.

"The Romans believe that people who are good on earth are rewarded in the afterlife by living in heaven for eternity," she said.

"If that's true," Tristan responded, "I suspect there are more of us there than there are of them."

"And you wouldn't call that heaven?" Jillian teased.


Night had fallen and the moon lit the sky when Jillian stepped out of the wagon, wrapping herself in a blanket. The caravan had set up camp in the forest. Tristan watched her as he sat by the fire with the other knights. She approached Arthur who sat with his back against a tree.

"Arthur Castus," she greeted reverently. She had heard much about this half-Roman, half-Briton leader of the Sarmatian knights. Arthur looked up at her, and their eyes met.

"You must be Jillian," he replied.

"I am very grateful for what you did at Marcellus's estate," she said, "I will never forget your kindness." Arthur bowed his head ceremoniously. "Perhaps someday I will be able to repay you," she added.

"There is no need," he answered.

"We shall see," Jillian said respectfully and left Arthur to his thoughts.

Tristan followed Jillian with his eyes as she left Arthur. She turned her head from side to side cautiously and headed towards one of the supply wagons. Tristan stood, leaving the company of the knights, and headed in the same direction, careful not to catch her attention. He watched from behind a tree as she made her way around to the back of the wagon and pulled out a knife from inside. 'Don't do anything stupid,' he said mentally as if she could hear his thoughts.

Tristan followed her silently as she walked a few feet into the woods and sat at the base of a tree. She pulled down the sleeve of her dress, revealing the symbol of Rome branded into the side of her arm. She pressed the blade of the knife to her skin and slowly ran it across the marking. Tristan involuntarily held his breath as she drew blood, removing not only the branding, but the skin on her arm as well with the sharp blade of the knife.

Jillian tore off a strip of fabric from her dress and tied it tightly around her arm as a bandage. She then picked up the knife once again and threw it straight in Tristan's direction. The knife lodged itself in the tree an inch away from Tristan's head. He obviously had not been as inconspicuous as he thought. He stepped out from behind the tree and looked at Jillian, who stood feeding her arm back into the sleeve of her dress.

"You're free," Tristan said finally.

Jillian looked up at Tristan. "Then don't follow me," she said simply, turned, and vanished into the misty forest.