No One, But You
by xx-mads-xx
Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the movie King Arthur. Thank you.
Isolde slowly came to stand next to Merlin. He just continued to stand, staring as the carriage moved out of view. The remaining Woads in the forest all surrounded him, waiting for his signal for any action.
"What now?" she asked him, in their native tongue.
Merlin spoke in his almost weary voice, "Now we go home and continue to search for Guinevere."
Isolde touched his arm, "Let me bring her back. I must redeem myself." She was embarrassed that she had been bested in a fight. Never before had it happened, the Romans she fought were usually too dumb and the Woads she sparred with were too familiar. Defeat was an feeling she hadn't dealt with since childhood, and she hated it, it left a bad taste in her mouth.
Merlin turned to look at her, "Redeem yourself? Why must you do that, child?"
"She is upset because that Sarmatian defeated her," Kalen said, motioning in the direction in which the knights had gone.
"Quiet! I do not wish to be reminded of that!" Isolde hissed at him. Leave it to Kalen to make light of the situation, he never understood since he lived under different circumstances.
Merlin waved his hand, dismissing the argument between the two. Looking to Isolde he said, "So you feel you must redeem yourself to yourself?"
She nodded, looking at the ground.
"Fine," Merlin said. "Go now, and do what you must."
"Thank you," Isolde said, before running towards her horse.
The knights had reached the top of yet another hill, except that just beyond it was the Wall.
"Freedom Bors," the usually quiet Dagonet said.
"Mm," Bors replied. "I can almost taste it."
The others smiled at this, knowing how much each would treasure their long denied freedom.
"Well now that we're free men," Bors continued. "I'm gonna drink 'till I can't piss straight."
"You do that every night," Gawain said, nonchalantly.
Bors looked at him, "I never could piss straight. Too much of myself to handle, down there."
While Bors looked to each of them, the rest of the knights looked straight ahead, knowing what he was going to say.
"Well it's a problem!" Bors exclaimed. "No really, it is. It's a problem. It's like-"
"A baby's arm holdin' an apple," they all said in unison.
The woods were dark, and the smell of oncoming was in the air. Merlin sat next to the fire, listening to Kalen talk. All he could focus on was the days fight and what they should do next.
As Merlin watched the flames, a tall, older woman came toward them and sat down. She took Merlin's hand in her own and rested it in her lap.
"Where is Isolde?" she asked him, quietly.
Kalen stopped talking, watching the exchange.
"She went to find Guinevere," Merlin said, wearily. "She felt the need to redeem herself."
"But," the woman looked from Merlin to Kalen. "Why?"
"She," Kalen started, trying to find the words. "She was…defeated earlier."
The woman started to smile, and squeezed Merlin's hand, a little bit of hope blooming in her mind, "By who?"
Kalen looked to Merlin, who nodded. He shifted back to her, "A Sarmatian knight."
The knights had reached the wall and were heading toward the fort. They had formed a sort of caravan with the Romans and the carriage.
"I don't like it," Galahad said, riding next to Bors and Gawain. "Rome. He's here to discharge us, why doesn't he just give us our papers?"
"Is this your happy face?" Gawain asked, laughing.
Galahad couldn't help grinning.
"Galahad," Gawain said, looking forward. "Do you still not know the Romans? They don't scratch their asses without holding a ceremony."
"Why don't you just kill him," Bors added, gruffly. "And the discharge yourself after?"
"I don't kill for pleasure, unlike some," Galahad looked to Tristan, who had come up on his left.
"Well, you should try it someday," Tristan said. "You might get a taste for it."
Laughter could be heard from the outside tavern. The knights were back and they were having fun. Gawain was currently sitting, holding a tankard or beer with a woman on his lap. Tristan was sitting in a chair at the end of the table they had shared, silently eating his apple. Lancelot sat holding his tankard while Bors and Galahad stood. Dagonet stood by the bar holding a cup he had just downed. They all were all staring at Vanora, mesmerized as she sand a song to her eleventh child.
As she finished her song, Arthur came into the open tavern. He stopped, hearing Vanora singing and stood listening. As she finished, Jols caught sight of Arthur, about to leave.
"Arthur!" he called out, alerting the others.
"Arthur!" Galahad said, snapping out of his daze, happy to see his commander.
Arthur sighed and briskly went to them.
Galahad was smiling at him, slightly drunk, "You're not completely Roman yet, right?"
"Rus!" Bors yelled out, hitting his chest.
Lancelot was watching Arthur, not sure if he liked the look on his face.
"Knights, brothers in arms," Arthur said, as if giving a speech. "Your courage has been tested beyond all limits, but I must ask you now for one further trial."
They looked at him, thinking it was a joke.
Arthur continued, "We must leave on a final mission for Rome before our freedom can be granted."
Now the knights had to laugh, they had done their time, they were now free.
"Above the wall," Arthur continued, yet again. "There lies a Roman family in need of rescue. They are trapped by Saxons. Our orders are to secure their safety."
Bors scoffed, "Let the Romans take care of their own."
Gawain, who was now standing, said drunkenly, "Above the wall is Woad territory."
"Our duty to Rome," Galahad said, trying to laugh it all off. "If it ever was a duty, is done. Our pact with Rome is done."
"Every knight here has laid his life on line for you," Bors said, pointing at Arthur. "For you. And instead of freedom, you want more blood? Our blood? You think more of Roman blood than you do ours!"
"Bors," Arthur said, trying to reason. "These are our orders. We leave at first light and when we return, your freedom will be waiting for you. A freedom we can embrace with-"
"I'm a free man!" Bors yelled, extremely angered. "I will choose my own fate!"
"Yeah, yeah," Tristan said, cutting off a slice of apple. "We're all going to die someday. If it's death by a Saxon hand that frightens you – stay home."
"If you're so eager to die, you can die right here!" Galahad said, Lancelot holding him back from attacking Tristan. "I've got something to live for!"
"The Romans have broken their word, we have the word of Arthur. That is good enough. I'll prepare," Dagonet said, walking toward their rooms. "Bors, you coming?"
"'Course I'm coming!" Bors practically screamed. "Can't let you go on your own, you'll all get killed!"
Bors looked around as Gawain and Galahad stood facing Arthur. Tristan followed Dagonet, knowing he should prepare.
"I'm just saying what you're all thinking!" Bors yelled, before mumbleing. "Vanora'll kill me."
He stalked off, and Arthur looked toward the last two remaining knights, "And you, Gawain?"
"I'm with you," Gawain said, sighing. Before he walked off, he took a look at Galahad, "Galahad as well."
The young knight stared at Gawain in astonishment, not knowing what to say. He turned back to look at Arthur and laughed in disbelief, turning his pourer of wine upside down and smashing it on the ground.
He turned walking past Gawain to their rooms, leaving Lancelot and Arthur behind.
Isolde crouched down, low to the ground; she had ridden the rest of the day and most of the night at break-neck speed to get to the dirty Romans estate. Her horse was exhausted and she had left him in the woods to rest.
She now watched the Romans intently, trying to get a feel for their routine, if they even had one. No one had seen her sneak onto the estate. Most of the peasants were sleeping and the guards on duty were blind in the dark.
Isolde crept toward one of the lone Romans, pulling out a dagger. She grabbed him from behind, holding the dagger at his throat. He struggled for a second, till he felt the tickle of blood on his neck.
"Where is the Woad woman?" she demanded.
Before the guard could answer, Isolde was hit in the back by another guard. She fell to the ground, the breath knocked out of her. She grunted as they began to hit her, subduing her. She cried out as the cut she had received earlier from the braided idiot was reopened. She had failed to redeem herself; she had failed to rescue Guinevere. Those were the last things she thought, till a kick to her head caused her vision to go black.
A/N: Read and Review, people! Read and Review!!
