Chapter 1

"Escape From Death "

Dagonet woke up greeted by feverishness he wouldn't even have thought was possible. Despite many hard wounds during his years of service to Rome, never before had he wished that the wounds had accomplished what they were meant to.

Aside from a horrible fever that scorched him, his large frame roared in pain with every breath, and heart beat from his wounds. He fought his fevered mind, struggling to draw up memories of what had happened.

Marius...he certainly remembered that lunatic easily enough. Just the thought of that evil Roman bastard made his fist involuntarily clench into a tight fist. Something cold touched his forehead startling him. He jerked his face toward whatever it was touching him.

"Dagonet? Dagonet, are you with me?', asked a woman's voice that spoke softly, but with authority.

Dag looked on her, her whiskey colored eyes locked with his. He could almost remember...she seemed familiar somehow...

Suddenly in a flurry, his mind began throwing forth questions for her. As Dag opened his mouth to ask who she was, where he was, where his companions were, to his total dismay, and irritation, only a croak issued forth.

Reaching quickly beside her, his unknown nurse poured a goblet of water for him, and sat down beside him on the bed. Facing Dag, and with one arm behind him, she managed to use the force of her own weight to lift him up far enough so that he wouldn't gag as she brought the cool water to his parched lips. She tipped the goblet just enough to accommodate his tentative sips. Realizing his thirst, Dag moved one hand weakly to hers in an attempt to drink more deeply.

"Easy, easy...", the woman crooned softly. "If you overdo it you will make yourself ill from it."

Despite the agony that gripped him, Dagonet managed something of a smile. Ill? Was she joking?

Noting the wry smile on his lips the woman smirked a little in return thinking of what that had to sound like to the ears of one so wounded. She couldn't begin to imagine his pain.

Dagonet watched the woman through glazed eyes as she set the goblet aside, and took up her basin and rags once more before returning to him on the bed.

"Rest.", she murmured softly, as she began to bathe the burning flesh of his face, neck, arms, and chest. Had he been perhaps a little less ill than he was, he would have noticed the deep worry lining her young face. Before she ever finished, sleep mercifully stepped in.

Rhiannon had nursed Dagonet for nearly two weeks. Those two weeks easily made up the most frightening time of her life.

Tiredly, she moved her chair to the side of Dagonet's bed, and leaned her torso over the edge of it, laying her head down. She had labored long today fighting his fever as best she could, and at least for now had succeeded. She knew she should be grinding herbs for the salves to be reapplied to his wounds, but sleep had been too long denied. With a final, longing look at the man in the bed, she laid her head back down.

When Dagonet next woke, he knew his fever was certainly down. The pain was only a little less than it had been, but he was thankful for it. Much to his body's complaint he dragged a great, deep breath into his lungs. As he shakily exhaled, he began to take note of his surroundings. With surprise he realized he was in his bed chamber at Hadrians wall. What had happened?

This time the memories came more willingly. Dag tensed as he remembered the battle on the lake. He had thought- no, he had known that he would die when he ran out toward the Saxon forces. He remembered the feeling of arrows piercing his body. He thought he had heard Bors screaming but he wasn't sure because the blood rushing in his ears had drowned out everything. With all of his warriors might he swung his ax into the lakes icy surface as his life ebbed surely away. There was a last, thundering blow when he knew he had saved his friends and then cold, darkness. He had given all he could to save his brothers, but had he saved them?

While these thoughts, and questions formed in Dagonet's clearing mind, he felt something stir by his hand. Casting his eyes quickly toward the source of movement, he was once more surprised.

The woman who he vaguely recalled from his previous waking was there. She was sitting in a chair next to his bed, but her upper body was slumped over next to him, hear arms cushioning her head in sleep. Even though she appeared to be in a sound sleep, she was stirring a little. She was nestling the top of her head into the back of his hand..

With her face toward him, Dagonet took full advantage to study her features that seemed somehow familiar. A memory flashed in his head. A woman in a dark cloak...even the heaviness of the fabric couldn't totally conceal how voluptuous her body was...from the village they had evacuated. He had only seen her face once. She had watched him. He had felt her eyes on him often and wondered at it. He did allow that it was probably nothing, till Tristan made it a point to tell him he was being watched. He had immediately looked up at her from where he stooped making a bed for he and Lucan at the campsite. She was obviously startled when their eyes had met, but she did not lower her gaze.

Now as he could examine her more closely, he admired what he saw. Her skin was fair; her face was a softly rounded oval; rose-pink lips formed a small mouth; her nose lent strength to her face as did the set of her chin; long lashes lay on her cheeks as she slumbered. Her hair amazed him. It fell unrestrained to her waist in a wild tangle of brown and blonde curls. Gods! She looked sweet. His hand itched to touch those curls. As he began to carefully draw his hand away from her to indulge in that impulse, his door opened.

He was greeted by the welcome sight of Arthur, Gawain, and Galahad stepping into his room. They all smiled at him, their relief obvious. Arthur spoke first as they gathered near his bed, "At last you have returned to us."

Dagonet grinned painfully at him before he realized that aside from Arthur no one would meet his gaze now. The expressions on Galahad and Gawains faces...something was terribly wrong. He also realized now what his exhaustion had prevented him from seeing when they had first entered...all three men were badly bruised and battered. Had they still fought the Saxons after all? Where were Bors, Tristan, and Lancelot? Dagonet's mind answered the last question for him. Dead. He knew. Still, he had to hear it.

Dagonet tried roughly to sit up while attempting to ask what everyone seemed determined to keep secret. Pain gripped him and nothing but that same croak issued from his parched throat.

In his attempt to jerk himself upright, he had wakened his sleeping nurse. Everyone seemed to rush toward him at once. Gawain caught Dagonets torso in his arms, and held him firmly as Arthur unnecessarily asked the woman for water.

"Rhiannon, water, now.", Arthur ordered hurriedly.

Rhiannon swiftly rose, and turned to the nearby table and poured water into a goblet for him again. Quickly sitting by Dag on the bed, she held the rim of the goblet to his lips while Gawain continued to support him. Dagonet saw her-Rhiannon, Arthur had called her-cast a quick encouraging look at Gawain, before she turned her gaze to Dagonet. As he drank the cool liquid he lifted his eyes to hers. Those honey colored eyes watched him with...sympathy. Then he knew. Despite his suicidal effort at the lake, his brothers were dead.

As Dagonet closed his eyes in acceptance, a large form filled his doorway, and then strode purposefully across the floor.

"Dag!", Bors bellowed at his best friend. "About bloody time you woke up!"

Gawain was lying Dagonet back down as Bors came to the edge of the bed and began to grab Dag in a bear hug. Rhiannon intercepted. With a sudden movement she threw herself almost completely on top of Dagonet trying to shield him from his friends display of affection.

"No Bors! You mustn't! His wounds might yet reopen!", Rhiannon screeched as she maintained trying to shield Dagonet's body with her own. If Dag had looked at Arthur, Galahad, and Gawain he would have seen how amused they were by the situation. His eyes however were elsewhere.

Dag was looking at the woman who was on top of him. She was supporting most of her weight with her arms to keep herself above him, but even so her breasts still pressed into him softly. Even that small pressure was painful to him, yet he still found himself enjoying it.

What he really found himself admiring however was that she was nearly nose-to-nose with Bors who still hovered over him from the opposite side of the bed. Bors could intimidate any man, and yet this woman refused to back down. She steadily held Bors' gaze as he glared at her. In that moment Rhiannon made Dagonet think of Tristan... how he too kept his face passive in a challenge.

"Woman, if it hadn't been for you savin' 'im I'd have you over my knee.", Bors growled at her with apparent merriment in his eyes.

Rhiannon grinned at the bear of a man, and chuckled at his threat. "No you wouldn't. I daresay Vanora would avenge me if you did."

As the other three men standing behind Bors began to laugh at him, he looked from them to Dagonet, and finally back to Rhiannon.

"I ain't afraid of any woman...but you should keep an eye on this one.", Bors muttered good naturedly pointing at her. He and Rhiannon smiled at each other. Bors backed off to stand with his long-time companions.

Rhiannon began to ease off of Dagonet, her hair tickling his chest and abdomen as she moved away. Dag watched her and wished there was some good reason for her to remain as she had been. Her weight that had rested on him had hurt, but was still welcomed. She had been soft and warm. Besides that, what man didn't want a pretty woman lying atop of them.

Noticing that everyone had grown silent again, Dag waited for someone to say something, anything. Seconds passed by uncomfortably.

Dag couldn't stand it any longer. "What has happened?" , he asked hoarsely looking to each of them. Rhiannon wouldn't look at him now. Something about the sleeve of her dress seemed to have her rapt attention.

Rhiannon saw Arthur step forward to tell him, and her heart ached for Dagonet. She had seen what a gentle man he was first-hand, warrior or not. Here at Hadrians Wall she had heard only wonderful stories and descriptions of the large man she was tending. He was a healer, somewhat quiet, and obviously a brave and loyal man. Everyone admired him. Particularly Bors. Bors had made it clear that if she could not use her skills to successfully save his friend, she would answer to him. As he had angrily stomped away from her, Galahad stepped forward just encouraging her to do what she could. No one expected Dag to live. Not even Bors, but he needed someone to lay his pain on, so he would certainly blame her if Dagonet did not survive.

He had survived though, and now he wanted answers about those who had not. Rhiannon reached to him from her chair and grasped his hand in hers, rubbing his scarred knuckles with the pad of her thumb. She wanted so badly to transfer her caring to him to cushion him, but knew how foolish that thought was.

Dagonet turned to Rhiannon again when he felt her take his hand in hers, and saw once more the deep sympathy in her averted eyes. If that didn't totally tell him what he wanted to know, Arthur did.

"Lancelot and Tristan were lost to us as we fought the Saxons." Arthur's voice had broken over the knights names though he still held himself tall.

"I failed you then.", Dagonet whispered brokenly, despair filling him.

"No", Galahad told him, stepping forward. You did not fail us. We managed to escape what would have been our deaths at the lake because you nearly died. We wouldn't leave you there even had you been dead."

In a stoic effort to control his emotions, Dagonet was squeezing Rhiannon's hand to steady himself. He felt her move closer to him and he was thankful for her.

Gawain began to speak. "The night before we were to leave this place and journey home, the Saxons marched on us, and made camp just outside the wall. We all chose to stay and fight. The Woads were with us. Even though we prevailed..." Gawain's voice was losing power, so Arthur again took up the tale.

"It was the bloodiest battle any of us had ever witnessed before. Tristan and Lancelot fought valiantly and died with honor."

"Where was I?" Dagonet asked with agony in his voice.

"You were full of holes from arrows and about to die is where you were!", Bors roared out angrily. "If you ever do anythin' so damned stupid again, I'll kill ya' myself!"

"You were here.", Arthur told him, ignoring Bors outburst. With a nod of his head, Arthur pointed attention to Rhiannon. "Rhiannon wouldn't let those evacuating take you. She said that moving you anymore than we already had would certainly kill you. The only chance you had was to stay here."

Gawain looked admiringly at the young woman before he added, "She barricaded herself in with you. She's been so devoted to your care that even Bors had no doubt about leaving you with her."

Dag looked at her then, and saw something he had not while she had rested. She was truly exhausted. Worry, and lack of sleep were grooved into her face. Her eyes were still alert, but the lids were pinched and red. Her hair looked as though she had run her fingers through it repeatedly in distraction.

"She also would allow no one else to care for you. She has cared for you going on a fortnight singlehandedly.", Gawain finished.

Galahad grinned at Dagonet. "Bors is right. She is stubborn. You will have your hands full with this one." Galahad only laughed at the glare that Rhiannon was gracing him with.

This is my very first fanfic so please be tactful with your reviews, but please REVIEW!Thanks so much for reading this.