The sun had set, leaving Tristan and Lucia only the light of a single lantern that sat lit in the corner of the hut. Tristan's wrists were raw now from trying to break loose from his bindings. He had not said a word to Lucia. She was the last person he wished to speak to. He wanted desperately to believe that Jillian would come to their aid, but that hope was starting to wear thin.
His relationship with Jillian had been rocky from the start. They seemed to waver back and forth from friends to adversaries to friends again without ever being able to reach a balance. Now, he suspected they had shifted back to being enemies. Yet, at the same time he realized that if she were truly his enemy, he would not be so hurt by her betrayal.
Tristan heard a woman's voice from outside and then the shuffling of feet. Jillian slipped into the hut carrying Tristan's sword and other weapons. His heart leapt when he saw her, though he did not let his face reflect it. Jillian rushed over to them and began untying their ropes.
"We must hurry. The guards will only be away for a few minutes," Jillian informed them, urgently, "It won't take them long to realize a cart wasn't really set on fire."
"I thought you were going to strike a bargain?" Tristan asked, picking up his weapons that Jillian had set beside him.
"I tried, but it turns out I'm a horrible negotiator. I'm sorry. I wanted to keep my word, but this is the best I can do. Come," she said, motioning to them to follow her out of the hut.
"You're crazy if you think I'll accept her help," Lucia announced obstinately.
"Feel free to stay," Tristan said dismissively, not in the mood for her antics. Lucia mumbled something under her breath in return, but Tristan ignored her.
Jillian peeked her head outside of the hut to make sure no one would spy their escape. The tribe members were gathered around a huge bonfire, distracted by the night's festivities. Jillian motioned her hand for Tristan and Lucia to quickly flee the hut.
"Hurry! Make for the woods!" Jillian whispered to them. Tristan and Lucia quickly stepped outside the hut with Jillian following close behind. To their misfortune, one of the woad guards returned from behind one of the huts and spotted them. Jillian felt her body freeze. The guard quickly pulled out his bow and dispatched an arrow that lodged itself directly between Jillian's shoulder and collar bone. Jillian gasped in pain. Tristan reacted immediately, flinging his dagger through the air into the guard's chest.
Tristan grabbed Jillian by the arm and pulled her behind him stumbling into the trees. Lucia ran frantically beside them, grasping at her only chance at freedom. A few feet into the woods, Jillian fell to the ground. Tristan grabbed her hand, trying to urge her on. Jillian's body shook violently, and Tristan remembered what she had told him about the tribe's hallucinogens.
"Go!" she whispered, urging them to keep running.
"Come on! Leave her!" Lucia cried frantically, "She'll just slow us down anyway! We have to hurry!"
Tristan ignored Lucia and gripped Jillian's shoulder. "I'm going to remove the arrow," Tristan told her. Jillian gave him a slight nod, her eyes darting on all directions. He gripped the arrow firmly and yanked it from her shoulder. She winced in pain, her eyes welling up with tears. Jillian could feel the drug streaming through her body and knew she had little time before it would take its full effect.
"In my bag---the blue bottle---" she whispered to Tristan. He hurriedly fumbled through her bag until he found a small blue bottle. He showed it to her, and she nodded. "Give it to me," she uttered, barely audible. Tristan removed the cap and put the bottle up to her lips, knowing there was no time for questions. Jillian drank its substance, and her body suddenly went limp. Tristan felt for her heart, which he found to be still beating faintly.
"Come on!" Lucia cried, impatiently. Tristan picked up Jillian's lifeless body in his arms and hastened into the forest, Lucia staying close by his side. They fled quickly through the trees hoping to distance themselves as far as possible from the tribe's settlement. Tristan noted that they were not being followed as of yet, but he suspected it would not take the tribe long to discover their absence.
Tristan and Lucia stopped when they heard horses' hooves riding towards them. They ducked behind a tree and waited. Tristan watched as six familiar figures rode past them on horseback. "Arthur!" Tristan called. Arthur pulled on his reigns and took a sharp turn back in Tristan's direction. We rode over to them and dismounted our horses. Lucia ran crying into my arms, "Lancelot!" I held her tightly and smirked at the rest of the knights who rolled their eyes at me.
"We thought it best not to wait till morning to come after you," Arthur explained to Tristan.
"I'm glad," Tristan responded. Arthur looked down worriedly at Jillian who lay still in Tristan's arms.
"What happened?" Arthur asked, concerned.
"Poisoned arrow," Tristan responded severely.
"Poisoned?" asked Dagonet, suddenly alert and ready to spring into action to help in any way possible.
"With a hallucinogen," Tristan explained. He carried Jillian over to his horse, which he was grateful Arthur had brought along for him. Tristan laid her in the saddle, then turned back to Dagonet.
"Where was she hit?" Dagonet asked.
"In the shoulder. She told me to give her this," Tristan said, handing Dagonet the blue medicine bottle.
Dagonet studied its contents. "It induces sleep," he said, "Smart girl. She should be fine as long as her body can withstand the drug. With any luck, its effects will wear off in a day or two, and she will have slept through it."
"How will we know if she can withstand the drug?" Tristan asked.
"We'll just have to wait and see," Dagonet responded solemnly.
"We'll return to the wall immediately," Arthur interjected. He then turned to Lucia. "Lady Gaius, I am glad to see you alive," he said.
"Took you damn long enough," she muttered, rolling her eyes.
Tristan sat in his saddle with Jillian cradled in his arms as they raced to Hadrian's Wall. Though unconscious, Jillian had been shivering violently, so Tristan had wrapped his cloak tightly around her. He held her tightly as they rode, hoping his body would provide warmth to hers. It was then that he realized how much he cared for her. Tristan never imagined that he would ever truly care about anyone. He had always been alone, and it had suited him. Now, though, he could not imagine his life if Jillian died. She had to make it. She had to survive.
Dawn's light seeped into the night's pool of darkness, announcing morning's arrival, and Hadrian's Wall appeared on the horizon. Tristan urged his horse forward, riding ahead of the rest of us. Jillian's body had grown cold against his through the night, and he could only think of reaching the wall. Tristan rode hastily through the gates, dismounted his horse, and rushed Jillian to his quarters. Jols had tried to greet him at his arrival, but Tristan had flown past him without a word. Jols shrugged and simply led Tristan's horse to the stables.
Tristan set Jillian down in his bed and covered her with blankets. He stood over her for a moment and then touched his hand to her forehead, brushing away a few stray strands of hair. Her breathing was faint, and her body still trembled. Tristan felt helpless. Taking lives was so effortless for him. He only wished he could keep her alive with the same ease.
Tristan heard a knock at the door and turned to see Dagonet enter. "How is she?" Dagonet asked.
"Cold," Tristan answered, not knowing what else to say. Dagonet walked over to the side of the bed and inspected Jillian, putting his hand to her forehead and listening to her heartbeat. The concerned look on Dagonet's face did not abate Tristan's worry.
"Well, she doesn't have a fever. That's a good sign," Dagonet said, trying to be optimistic, "The important thing is to try to keep her warm." Tristan nodded. Dagonet put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure she'll be fine," he said, "I'll come back to check on her later."
Tristan pulled a chair up to the side of the bed and stayed at Jillian's side all day. He could not help but blame himself for what had happened. If he had not gone after her and forced her to help them, she would never have gotten hurt. How could he have been so careless with her life when she had gone through such pains to try to save his?
It was mid-afternoon when Arthur entered Tristan's room. "Is she alright?" Arthur asked. Tristan shrugged, not turning to look at Arthur. He kept his eyes focused on Jillian's sleeping face. "Tristan, I didn't mean for this to happen. I'm sorry," he said sincerely.
"How is Lady Gaius?" Tristan asked somewhat bitterly, still not taking his eyes off of Jillian.
"Physically, she's fine. Although, she was shaken by the news of her brother and the Octavius estate," Arthur answered. Tristan nodded indifferently. He felt no sympathy for Lucia Gaius. In fact, he could not help but wish that she were the one lying unconscious fighting for her life instead of Jillian. Sensing that there was nothing left to say, Arthur exited the room, giving Tristan his privacy.
Jillian's body grew colder and colder throughout the day. Dagonet returned to check on her that night, and the look of concern on his face only intensified. After he left, Tristan took Jillian's trembling hand in his own and noticed that it felt ice cold. Thinking of nothing else that he could do to help, Tristan climbed into the bed next to her. He leaned his back against the headboard of the bed and pulled Jillian up against him. Her head rested against his chest, and he wrapped his arms securely around her shivering body. Tristan felt his eyes grow heavy, and within a few minutes he had fallen asleep.
