This chapter will switch views A LOT!
Pict Language Sarmatian Language
Reunion 6
Habren stumbled back from the potency of his words. She didn't understand. What had caused this hasty change in demurer? He had been almost welcoming to them not a few minutes ago. What had caused him to want them to depart from these walls or want them dead so quickly?
Miskoc placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder and said soothingly to appease the entire group, "I understand your fear, King Arthur. I do not blame you for wanting us to leave. Your children are in danger while Atilla and his supporters are here. We will accept your escort to Hadrian's Wall and then we'll leave you in peace."
Habren's astonishment quickly melted into comprehension as the older man's words sunk into her thoughts. Oh, they are protecting their young. That makes since. But, I haven't had enough time to change the views of the others. We MUST stay longer…how can I do this…
Agrimpasa folded her arms across her generous bosom and asked with a largely undersized amount of sarcasm, "And just WHO are you going to have escort us, KING ARTHUR?" She knew the kind of man this British King was; he was the kind of male who wanted to talk things through in hopes of gaining a diplomatic, nonviolent armistice. To bad, she had other ideas and they all involved Lancelot and utterly humiliating his PRECIOUS wife.
Arthur turned his ferociousness onto the curly blond hared sister of his blood brother Knights and said in an almost savage hiss, "The Knights and I, along with some of the warriors within the Outer Wall will be escorting you, My Lady Princess."
At the savage treatment of their guests, Lancelot had to place a hand on Arthur's back and said in a calming voice, "Arthur, calm yourself, my friend. I know you want them to go away, so do we all. But, causing them to leave in such a dire way will only cause more trouble for us later on. We will accompany them to the Wall and leave them to Captain Aldus'…soothing conducts. But, this cannot happen if you are ready to kill every last one of them." Then he smirked and added, "If I cannot slaughter them, you're not permitted to either, so nay."
Lancelot stuck out his tongue and smiled as Arthur's destructive side, which only came out during a war or battle, vanished behind his legendry control. He colored slightly as the other Knights' sniggered, but he didn't care. He'd do anything for Arthur-even make a dupe of himself in front of guests-past or new.
The Sarmatians were a bit piqued that their Hosts were having a discussion in a language they did not understand. In fact, some of them were out right livid that their sons had learned the language of their enemy. Habren wasn't such a person. In fact, she was proud of how far her brother had grown while under his imprisonment. When he returned home, for she was sure that their mother could make it attractive for both Lancelot and Emogen to stay, he'd be an admirable addition to the Tribe as a whole.
Unfortunately, Agrimpasa wasn't as accepting as her supposed sister-in-law. She fumed, as her fiancée talked lightly OUTLOUD in Arthur's ear, in the language of their enemy no less!
"LANCELOT!" she shrieked, "Why are you soiling your tongue with such filth!"
As everyone turned to her, she shrieked unrelentingly, "Your mother will hear of this! When she finds out that you've learned the language of those revolting WOADS, she'll…"
The Hall of Justice was so silent, that everyone heard the zing of Lancelot's sword as it was pulled effortlessly from its sheathe. Lancelot smiled wryly to himself as he thought this is the third time today I've done this…you'd think they'd learn not to talk of our loved ones like this.
As his sword met her neck, Lancelot cut her off rudely and asked, "She'll what? Come a smack me on the back of the head like I was nothing but a disobedient child? Or she'll disown me for learning another language like she threatened to do to me when she found out my father had been instructing me in Latin? I'm sorry to disappoint you Agrimpasa, but you are neither my wife nor my mother, and you have ABSOLUTELY NO SAY IN WHAT I CAN OR CANNOT DO! UNDERTAND!"
Tarkan stepped forward and said as he raised his hands in a surrendering gesture, "Now calm down Lancelot. She's reacting to a situation without truly understanding the delicate balance of this meeting. You already knew this because she was meant to be your breeding wife, not your equal in such stately matters."
Agrimpasa visibly paled and jerked back from the Sarmatians. She knew that she wasn't as well versed in their people's politics as she should be, but she had always envisioned Lancelot contentedly tutoring her in their people's ways since he would ultimately become the King of the Sarmatian people. She glanced to the Knights and saw a dark gleeful look on Galahad's face. She sneered. So, Galahad had known this even before he left home? Why am I not surprised? She looked at Lancelot hopefully. Her shoulders slumped even further as her tearful eyes met his stoically blank black-brown ones. He is not even sympathetic for me! Me! His wife! How dare he do this! He is supposed to honor and support me for the rest of our days! Mother will definitely hear of this!
Lancelot broke the staring contest with Agrimpasa and said in a thick voice full of promise, "Tarkan, Habren, listen to me closely, I am NOT returning to Sarmatia! My home is here! I am NOT leaving this place."
Before they could reply, he removed his sword, sheathed it, and then he raised his voice and said loudly and clearly with a strong sense of authority, "This conversation is FINISHED! I will take you back to your chambers where you will rest for the night. Tristran will then escort you to the Banquet Hall for breakfast and from there we will mount up and travel to Hadrian's Wall, understood?"
Before they could argue this, he removed his other hand, which had been squeezing Arthur's shoulder for strength and made a quick hand gesture. Arthur nodded with a relieved smile. Lancelot moved to the Chamber's double doors and reiterated, "Well, move it!"
Habren sighed deeply and wordlessly followed her brother. So far, this day had been nothing but heartbreak and dead ends. Hopefully, while they traveled to Hadrian's Wall, she could think up someway to make Lancelot come with them or convince him to let them all stay in Camelot. She didn't even bother trying to think up a way to influence the King because her brother was the next best thing. If I can get him to believe that I truly want to remain here and learn of their ways, so I can hopefully do something similar to the Council, maybe he'll let me stay. I AM his baby sister, after all.
As he marched them up the white marble stairs, Agrimpasa eagerly slithered to his side and said as she brazenly wrapped her arm around his dark emerald sleeved one, "So, did your King design this castle? It has Roman blood all over it. Your must hate it so, why do you live in this Roman atrocity?"
She smirked delicately at him as he eyed her with distaste in his eyes. She didn't care. He is mine and there was nothing he can do about it. Our mothers made a blood oath upon my birth to wed me to Lancelot, and not even this jolly jaunt in pagan marriage rites can change that.
Lancelot sighed roughly and violently pulled his arm away from her clawed grip. He shuddered slightly as she tried to gaze up at him through veiled eyelashes and one thought ran rampant in his mind as they scaled the marble stairs She's even worse than that tanner when Ula and I were pranking Tristran! (Referenced to The Sun and Moon of House Lyon-chapter 3 or 4 I believe) I didn't think anybody could top that btch! I guess I was wrong!
"Please, Lade Agrimpasa, I do not appreciate your advances. I am a happily married man, and I do not like your actions against my marriage vows." He said through gritted teeth.
As they passed a tapestry, Agrimpasa squealed in fake, even Bors', the most unobservant Knight could tell that, delight and exclaimed, "Look! That's you! I bet you had just vanquished some horrible enemy, right? You look so valiant and strong upon your warhorse!"
Lancelot sighed in hopelessness and said as he persisted up the stairs, forcing her and the other Sarmatians, who had also stopped to view the Tapestry, to follow him, "That was made in my honor after our victory of the Saxons on Badon Hill. You will see the battle site in three days. Now, here are your chambers. Tristran will be by at the crack of dawn to escort you to the Banquet Hall."
As they entered the chambers designated to them, Lancelot added with a sinister mischievousness and a wicked smile, "Oh by the way, the crack of dawn is in five hours, sleep tight!"
He slammed the doors shut and all but ran back to the Hall of Justice where the other Knights were walking out, discussing the Sarmatians and their itinerary, leaving only Arthur sitting in his chair waiting patiently for him.
Bors chuckled and said as he thumped Lancelot heavily on the shoulder, "Lance, Arthur's definitely in a tizzy this time. You have met your match, I guarantee it!"
Lancelot bit the inside of his right cheek and said as he flowed with the heavy thump's motion, "Then I'll just have to rise to the occasion once again, yeah? Oh, and if you can get them, tell Delia and Emmy to come. If you are indeed right, my boisterous friend, I might need a little back up."
Bors' chuckling grew louder as he nodded and followed the other Knights, who hadn't stopped to wait for him as he spoke with the First Knight.
When he closed the heavy oak double doors, they made a low slamming sound that echoed throughout the large room. Lancelot quickly walked to his seat next to Arthur's right side and looked at his friend. He knew Arthur even better than himself. While most people thought the once Roman to be the epitome of control, the truth of it was-Arthur's temper was a large as his own fiery wrath. The difference between them was a simple one-Arthur held it all inside to the point where he could not control it anymore, and he simply blew his top in heated debates with the King. Coincidentally, when it came right down to it, he was more patient than Arthur was.
Arthur sighed and slowly ran his hands through his black hair. Lancelot was startled to see one or two gray hairs at his temple, but also knew that he himself had one or two as well. Their jobs as Lords of Briton weren't easy ones. That topped off with raising an entire horde of children, even with help, equaled one stress filled life. If he was honest with himself, he was shocked that the whole lot of them weren't gray-hared-stem to stern.
"Lancelot, Dagonet's friend, Miskoc has confirmed our greatest fear-Atilla will attempt to kill one of our children if given the chance. I have no choice but to escort them off this island as quickly as possible in order to ensure their safety. The problem is that we HAVE to pass by the wall, and they'll want to stay for their funeral rites. How long was that, again?"
Lancelot blinked at the change in topics, but answered easily enough, "A week."
Arthur sighed but continued, "The plan is to herd them out as quickly as possible after breakfast. When we are on the road, and away from Camelot, we are to take them through the Mystifying Forest, through the outer eastern boarders of Gwynydd, pass the Bala Lake, straight up to the Wall."
He looked up into the eyes of his second and saw the light of understanding brighten those dark mischievous brown-black eyes.
Arthur nodded and said, "It was Tristran's idea, believe it or not. I think he plans to prank them all as a whole. He also mentioned something about sending messages to Merlin and Merkin about having the Inish come out and play" He stopped and added in an after thought, "We have an early morning, my friend, I wish you goodnight."
Lancelot placed his hand on Arthur's and said, "Hold it, there is more to your earlier temper tantrum Arthur. What else it bothering you?"
Arthur's shoulder dropped and he chuckled to himself and he replied, "I can't get anything by you, can I?"
Lancelot raised an eyebrow that said, "Do I REALLY need to answer that ridiculous question?"
Arthur placed his fingers to his temple, played with a few of the strands there, and exclaimed, "I have gray hairs on top of everything else Lance! I'm old!"
Lancelot burst out laughing at Arthur's wail of vanity. As his friend glowered at him, he sobered up and explained, "I'm sorry Arthur! But that's the type of thing you'd expect to hear from ME! It just struck me as funny since I had JUST finished thinking something similar not a few moments ago!"
Arthur's own lips started to twitch in humor as he saw the truth in his friend's statement. His one little vanity was his hair, but when he discovered the tiny gray hairs earlier this morning, it really showed his age. Well not my true age, really…I'm only thirty-five years old!
Before they could talk any further, the doors burst open and their wives, Queen Cordelia Dragonheart-Pendragon-Camelot of the Houses Wise and Dragon and Lady Emogen Serenity-Just-Lyon of the Houses Just and Lyon, rushed in.
"We were told by Bors to rush here as fast as possible!" exclaimed Cordelia as she rushed to her husband's side. Emogen did the same to Lancelot.
"Whatever is the matter?" she asked as she sat down next to her husband on his left side.
Lancelot chuckled, stood up, wrapped an arm around his wife, placed a warm kiss on her crown of curls, and said reassuringly, "Nothing is wrong Delia. Arthur was just having one of his rare days of vanity. We'll see the both of you in the morning, yes?"
Arthur, while trying to calm his wife down, nodded distractedly and waved to them both with a flat, distracted smile.
As their doors slammed shut, an eerie silence wafted through the chambers. Habren spun on her heel and marched right up to Atilla and slapped him hard across the face. She was feeling so vindictively that she smiled smugly at the red line that ran from his right ear to his nose.
"WHAT THE HLL WOMAN! WHAT WAS THAT FOR!" he roared as he jumped to his feet and placed at hand on his wounded cheek.
Habren hissed at him loudly, "It's because of your pig-headed, ignorant, bigoted, vile, disgusting…. proceedings and beliefs that have caused us to make our own sons repulsed at the very idea of returning home! Lancelot has VOWED to not return home because of your actions Atilla! Our people will die out and it's all because of the evils that lie right inside our own people! Lancelot and the others will escort us away from here in the morning, and if anyone of us does anything to cause them thought to panic for their children's lives, THEY WILL CUT US DOWN! Our people are dying because people like you cannot THINK ABOUT ANYTHING ELSE BUT YOUR OWN SELFISH, DEROGATORY, UGLY EXPANSION IN POWER!"
Atilla's eyes narrowed in hate. He had always hated the royals of the Lion Tribe because they had the most important vote in the Council, they had the most powerful soldiers-male or female, and nine times out of ten, all their heirs returned home. Ever since the pact was made between Sarmatian and Roman two hundred years ago, every one of the Lion Tribe's Knights had returned home to Sarmatia. This…this…infant shall NOT speak to me in this manner! She doesn't have the RIGHT to talk to me in this manner! She shouldn't even be IN the position of power she has! Her HUSBAND and BETTER is the TRUE, HONORABLE leader of the Lion Tribe-not her! Her JOB, if that's what you can call it, is not to lead but birth strong sons for our people to survive! Babai has overstepped his bounds in teaching her our ways of policy. She is nothing but a breeding stock to ensure our races survival…she is NOTHING! NOTHING!"
Habren's eyes widened at Attila's unknowingly spoken words. If these are his true thoughts…our people truly are doomed. We are slowly being turned from the ways of our ancestors and to the ways of Rome, and with our numbers dwindling…our people will meet with disaster!
Tarkan shook his head in horror and said into the silence feebly, yet forcefully at the same time, "Atilla, you are truly no longer seeking the survival of Sarmatia, but you are seeking the power to rule us all in the dictorialship of the Emperor himself. You are hereby stripped of all your titles and rank. You are no more than a simple Sarmatian man and Miskoc is hereby reinstated as Dagonet Surefoot of the Horse Tribe's regent in the Council…all in favor?"
Immediately, every Sarmatian in the room, especially the four women in their group, raised their arms. All of them were glaring at the sixty-two year old horseman.
Atilla glared at them all and steamed as they ignored him completely to talk about other things. How DARE they! How DARE they? To treat ME as some INSOLENT child! I, I am the eldest here! ME! They are to listen TO ME! Our people are strong only in the voice of ME! Our people are strong only in the thoughts of ME! Our people are strong only in the orders that I, not them, I think and have implemented! It's because of me that the Horse Tribe has swelled from a measly fifteen families to thirty in the last eleven years. He paused, shrugged and added to himself it's true that I dragged five Sarmatian men from Greece, from their homes and mongrels, and forced them to marry two women each, but once I threatened their other families, they played right into my grasp. I'll just do the same here. After all, how hard can it be to take one child?
Whew! What an end to the FIRST day, eh? LOL! This story is a lot like the old proverb Things always get worse before they get better! But can the Knights handle it-especially Lancelot and later on Tristran? The next chapter will have the tense group traveling to the Wall. But what evils will they encounter with the Inish sent by Merlin and Merkin? Or, will the Duke's send anything at all? Perhaps, Briton's own force of will, will frighten the Sarmatians off her shores…I know not what will happen, do you?