Disclaimer– I make no money from this, I own nothing save Delaney, I have maybe two penny's to my name and 4 kids, a dog, a cat, three fish, oh and a husband!
A/N Here is your warning. There be violence ahead. Read with caution, although it isn't as graphicly written as it could be... it's graphic enough. You have been warned.
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Ailis-70–Oh Beta Goddess of mine... I know I tormented you with this chapter; and for that I am
Sorry. However, without your help I doubt it could be what it is now.
Cardeia–Oh how I enjoy your reviews! Suppose away. Yes, this part was hard, but had to be
Done. I hope it lives up to your expectations.
Gryphon55–So nice to have a new reviewer! Glad you like the story. Hope you still like it after This.
Pirate–As you will find out, there is no way out, just to move on. Hope you like.
Knightmaiden–Here's your answer. Yes, Tristan needs a companion that isn't a hawk. If not in This story maybe a sequel.
Tristanlover–Here is your update!
Lancelot watched as they escorted Delaney to the pole. She didn't meet any of their gazes when she was walked out, her eyes were only for Actavius and Casius. The Roman's made comments and leered. Lancelot gasped when she tripped and was helped none to gently up. Her hands tied as if they were scared she'd find a way to bloody them all. They had her stand in the middle of the circle, just before the pole she would be tied to.
Casius came up and ripped her shirt none to gently down the middle, leaving it in rags hanging from her arms and flapping in the breeze like low hung wings. An audible gasp could be heard and Delaney almost smirked. It helped to show false confidence than to scream psychotically. The crowd could now defiantly see that she had already been marked once. Brent had carved a large letter "B" into her back with a jagged piece of glass. Maybe Casius wouldn't find such pleasure in her punishment now that he realized he wasn't the first to have her marked. He roughly groped her large breasts. Delaney all the while stared at Actavius, jaw clenched.
Lancelot clenched his fists, Gawain placed a hand upon his shoulder. "It will be worse if you do anything, my friend. For her sake, we must sit back and watch and remember." Lancelot nodded once in acknowledgment.
Tristan looked on. His eyes of flint watching the blonde haired woman stand proudly while the Romans tried to humiliate her. If she could do that with such bravado than he could do his part, so nothing else happened to either of them. His face cold and immobile, the flagellum clutched in his hand. Waiting.
Two of the Roman guards bound her to the pole, her hands placed high above her head; forcing her to stand upon her tip toes.
Bors and Vanora stood off to the side, Vanora softly sobbing into Bor's shoulder. Dagonet stood with Lancelot, Gawain, Kensey, Guinevere and Arthur. Guinevere and Kensey murmuring words of comfort into each other's ears.
Delaney rested her forehead against the pole and prayed. The only prayer that she could remember was Hail Mary from church. She took a deep breath and stole herself away, careful to not tense. She knew in the end if you tensed it hurt worse in the long run. She heard Tristan walk up. She sucked in a deep breath and then felt the first lash land. She clenched her hands together and buried her face into her arm, all the while repeating "Hail Mary full of grace..." He found a rhythm and she bit into her arm. She wasn't counting. Every time the lash fell, her body jerked involuntarily. Her back was on fire. She squeezed her eyes shut, reciting her mantra. The lashes hitting against her back. She could smell the metallic scent of her own blood and the bile rose in throat. She gritted her teeth refusing to give these Roman's the pleasure of seeing her stand in her own vomit. Her last flash of thought before she finally blacked out was "maybe I won't have that damn B etched into my back now"
Tristan watched as the lashes of knotted leather cut through her skin. He clenched his jaw further to keep the bile from gagging him. He had promised this woman they would not hurt her. Yet, what was he doing? He felt a presence next to him. He glanced from the corner of his eye, Casius stood next to him.
"Do you need me to do it, Sarmatian? You're merely tickling her!"
Tristan gritted his teeth and began to exert more force. He locked eyes with Lancelot over Delaney's bent head. He thought for sure he'd see hate in the dark knight's eyes, instead he saw the man shedding silent tears, staring stoically at Tristan. They were silent witnesses to the last of the tyranny of Rome. Tristan felt his eyes burn he would not cry. He would shed tears later for Laney, but not for Rome. Not for himself. He noticed his hawk circle over head. He took a deep breath and finished the task. He let the flagellum fall to the ground, his hand unable to hold it any longer. Delaney was hanging by her hands, slumped against the pole; unconscious.
Casius was laughing jovially and pointing while talking to Actavius who leered at the slouched woman.
Bors and Gawain untied her limp body and Dagonet picked her up like nothing more than a child. All of them followed in a somber procession, save for Lancelot. He came to Tristan. He came over to the scout and squeezed his arm. "I was wrong." He muttered and then went through the doorway that the others had just disappeared through.
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Delaney awoke, her back afire. Her eyes slowly drifted open taking in the dimly lit room. Quickly they fluttered closed as another wave of pain washed over her. She bit her lip, muffling her sob. Whomever was blotting her face with the cool cloth stopped. Next thing she knew she was staring into the brown hawk like eyes of Tristan. "Dag is cleansing the wounds."
She closed her eyes in acknowledgment and relaxed her body as much as she could. Every once in awhile a hiss made it's way out of her clenched teeth. Tristan once again squatted in front of her. She slowly opened her eyes to meet his gaze. "I told you–" he began.
Delaney read the guilt in his somber gaze. She laid her finger softly against his chapped lips, "You had no control over this Tristan. I do not blame you. I am to blame for forcing you into this position." Her finger fell away as she tensed.
"Tensing will make it worse."
"I know." She croaked, her eyes fluttering shut once again. It took all of her concentration to not elude Dagonet's skilled hands. He was cleansing the wounds with what she assumed must be a concoction of herbs and boiling water.
"I'm sorry, Delaney."
"It's okay, Dag," she managed. She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. She heard Tristan move and her eyes came lazily open. She saw Tristan grasp Lancelot's arm as he handed his fellow knight the damp cloth. She managed a weak smile for the curly haired knight. One which he didn't return. Instead he stared upon her with eyes of amber glass. He reached for her hands and took them in his own in a death grip, laying butterfly kisses upon her knuckles. He then pulled back and continued to stare.
"Please, do not look upon me like that." Delaney swallowed hard as her voice cracked.
"How else am I too look upon you?" His voice was raspy.
"If you cry, Lancelot, I swear I'll start and never stop."
"Would that be so wrong?"
"For you to cry? No. For me? I don't cry." She closed her eyes, blinking back tears that threatened to fall. She knew she had a right to cry, but she refused to cry in front of a man. Even one such as Lancelot.
He continued to stare at her. His heart welling with such emotion. She hadn't cried out once. She had stood as tall as she could until finally her body couldn't handle it anymore and she had passed out. This woman was as brave if not more so than any of them. "I should have stopped it." He finally lamented.
"Why? So you could be the one up there getting flogged? I couldn't handle that."
"How do you think I feel?"
"I have no answer for that, Lancelot." She rubbed her fingers across his knuckles, sucking in a quick breath as Dagonet found an especially tender spot to cleanse. "I'm utterly worn out, Lancelot." She sighed, hoping sleep would claim her and take her away from the pain.
Lancelot gently rubbed his thumb against her cheekbone, "Go to sleep, Laney. Go to sleep." She laid her head down upon their entwined hands and finally drifted off.
Delaney awoke to a darkened room lit with a single candle. She watched the dancing flame for a moment, gathering her resources before she moved. She lifted her head and gasped. Pain lanced through her and caused a soft sob to escape. Lancelot immediately was there, "You're okay." He whispered as he blotted her face with a damp cloth. He brought the candle closer and looked at her back. "I'll be back, Dagonet needs to change your bandages."
"I'll be here." She whispered. Lancelot smiled and kissed her temple. Moments later he returned with Dagonet. Dagonet took off the bandages and dropped them into what looked to be a bushel basket. They smelled to high heaven. "Infected, Dag?" Delaney asked hoarsely.
"It appears so."
"I was afraid of that. I doubt they sterilized the lashes before hitting people with them." She caught her breath as one of the bandages stuck and Dagonet had no choice but to force it off. "How's, Ellen?"
"Shaken, but fine. She likes flowers."
Delaney smiled. Lancelot looked worriedly at her back. "Come on, can't be that horrible."
"Do you have any idea what it looks like when someone has been whipped?"
"I always tried to avoid those scenes." Delaney said as she sucked in a quick breath.
"How can you make jokes at a time like this?" He looked at her grumpily.
"Would you rather have me cracking jokes or screaming?"
"Screaming."
"Why?"
"It would be normal." He looked on worriedly as Dag took the rags from her back.
"Not for me."
"You don't have to be strong around me, Delaney. It's okay to admit you're in pain."
"I'm not cracking jokes for you, Lancelot. It's for me. It's how I cope. Besides, why state the obvious? Of course I'm in pain."
Dagonet had finally finished with all of the bandages and came around to look at her. "They're becoming infected, Laney."
"What do you want to do?"
"I could wash them out again with boiling water and herbs and see if that helps.."
"If it doesn't?"
"Cauterization is a possibility." He answered matter-of-factly.
"Oh no, you are not putting hot steel to my back."
"Delaney, if that's what it takes we will do it. I will not have you die because your wounds get infected." Lancelot stated gruffly.
Delaney chose to ignore him, "Dag, are there any springs round here that smell like rotten eggs?"
"Yes."
"If cleansing the affected area doesn't help I can go and take a dip in the hot springs. Chances are they have sulphur and that will kill the infection. I don't think I"m moving anywhere soon. Let us try boiling the water and cleaning them out."
"It's going to be painful, Laney, I'll try to be as gentle as possible." He looked at her sympathetically.
"I know you will Dagonet. I know you will." Dagonet left to go get the water. Lancelot squatted down in front of her staring at her as he clasped her hands with his own.
"I have to go, Delaney, Arthur needs us." Lancelot regarded her wearily.
"I know, Lancelot. I will be fine." It hurt to look at the emotion in the dark Knights eyes. "Quit looking at me like that, Lancelot, you will break me." She whispered. She didn't want him to go either, but it was his duty. She would not pout like some love struck school girl.
"I don't want to go." He gulped for air. He was feeling as if his heart were being torn in two. He had never felt that way before. His duty was his duty, after all he was a knight. Is this how Bors felt whenever he had to leave Vanora?
"We both knew you had to before all of this." She answered soothingly. Running her fingers across his hands.
"I'm fearful you will take sick because of it." Her eyes were a lovely twilight blue. The blue of the sky at night. He would take that with him while they were gone.
"I won't let myself." She answered assuredly.
"You can't stop it." He replied matter of factly.
"I can try." She gave a small smile, and tried to roll onto her side. She ended up panting and gasping for air. "Well that wasn't one of my brightest ideas was it?"
"Lie still." He scolded.
"There is a problem with that, " she quipped.
"What?" He raised his eyebrows.
"I need to go to the bathroom." She answered quietly, a soft smile fluttering across her mouth.
"Ahh. And you can't make it down the hall to the latrina." Lancelot stood and walked to a corner in the room, he came back with a chamber pot. Which he set next to the bed. "If I help support you it should work."
Delaney's eyes were huge as she eyed Lancelot first, then the clay pot that was set next to his bare foot, his toes curling over the edge. "Lancelot, if you think I'm going to go pee while you're 'supporting' me you have got to be kidding! I do have some sense of decorum."
"You need help, it's okay." Lancelot stopped playing with the chamber pot. He took Delaney by the hand.
"Maybe for you. But I draw the line at letting a man watch me pee." She would muster all the strength she had left to pee by herself.
Lancelot coughed as he tried not to laugh. "Tristan did."
Laney pulled away. Too fast as her back started to hurt again. "He said he didn't look!"
"He turned away after realizing what you were going to do. But he did make mention that you had on a strange colored under clothing neath your trews."
Delaney laughed, causing another pull on her back. "You told me to quit joking around but it's okay for you to?"
"I don't see what the big deal is."
"I haven't done anything but kiss you and you are now offering to help me with a very private bodily function."
"So if we'd have had sex you wouldn't have any problem?"
"I didn't say that."
"I'd offer to remedy that problem but you have to go pee and sex would be no fun in your condition."
"I should hit you for that."
"Please?" He smirked, his eyes still guarded. He was trying to make the mood light. He wanted to help her. If that meant helping her with as she put it "a very private bodily function" so be it.
"Lancelot, please, don't make me laugh, I do have to pee." Delaney had her hands wrapped around her sides.
"You aren't going to let me help are you?" He sighed, in exasperation and helplessness.
"No. You can leave and wait in the hall so that way Dagonet doesn't barge in here either."
"You're stubborn."
"So I've been told." She replied, not moving.
"I'll give you a moment, but then I'm coming back." He shook his finger at her as if scolding a small child.
"That's all I'll need."
He left. Delaney stared at the chamber pot. What she wouldn't give for a private bathroom!