Sorry for not updating in a while. But I've been away on vacation! But I'm back now and with another chapter to Reunion. Pict language Sarmatian language
Reunion 7
The sun had just started to break the horizon as a child playing hide-and-seek, when Tristran jerked into alertness and automatically reached for his sword. When his instinctual proposal met with no rewards, he blinked and looked around his and his wife's sleeping chambers through groggy eyes. His eyebrows furrowed when the threat that had awoken him, remained elusive to his sharp eyes. He sighed and laid back down as he tried to think of a reason why his exceptional danger sense went off in his own chambers.
When he heard a baby gurgle, his eyes widened and he jumped to his feet. He rushed to his daughter, Amage's, side and peered down at her. She was sleeping serenely on her back with a fisted hand quiescently close to her kindly chubby face and the other was fisted to her side. She was moving in her sleep, and Tristran had to smile. She was so adorable! He placed one of his fingers on her beautifully soft baby cheek and said softly, "I'll protect you, my love. I won't let the Sarmatians harm you or any of the others-I promise."
Then he rushed to his son's, Dunham's, chambers and was relieved to see him asleep also. He placed his large hand on his son's head and gently pushed a few stray locks of black hair out of his son's face. Dunham sighed and rolled towards him, and he smiled. He never thought that he'd be one to enjoy the responsibility of fatherhood, but when Alma placed his newborn son in his arms that first time, his entire mind was flooded with hopes and dreams of the future he hadn't let himself think of while he was in Rome's service. He swore that day that his son would have everything he did not have as a child, and he swore that his children would NOT see the controlling, repulsive, and savage slavery of Rome like he did.
With a smile, he removed his hand from his son's black shaggy locks, that were very similar to his own, and moved back into his own sleeping chamber-Lancelot had been right six years ago (reference to All Because of One chapter 13 or 14, I think!). He did NOT want his son to become a slave for Rome, and with the Empire collapsing from the inside, according to one of Alec's old childhood friends who he still had correspondence with in Rome, the Empire was collecting every able and unable man to arms to protect the beloved Empire of Rome.
When he reached his wardrobe, he quickly pulled on a pair of black leather pants and a dark purple, nearly black, wrap tunic top and tucked the purple cotton into his pants. He quickly straightened the clothing out and pulled out his black leather belt with a bronze panther with amethyst jeweled eyed belt buckle. Then he pulled on his iron gauntlets with amethyst hand guards.
The gauntlets had been Galahad's idea early on in the creation of Camelot. He had been complaining to Arthur and Enys, his wife, that his trainees were hurting themselves to much in training TO TRAIN by catching the swords with their arms and hands when they lost their swords in an attempt to continue fighting. Granted, that was a good thing in a real battle, but not in training-to do such things simply hindered the trainees' progress.
So, Galahad had created, with Gawain, Lancelot, and the palace's blacksmith, Hart, the gauntlets. They were a new invention of metallurgy that the three had stumbled onto by accident. They were a mixture of iron ore, charcoal, and glass. The new "accident" was tested in all possible ways they could think up, and the group of three found out that the new metal was twice as strong as their native iron ore alone. From there, the gauntlets were sized to each Knight in the realm and then to any who wanted them.
By the second year of Camelot's birth, every man was wearing them since they were the newest fashion. He snorted, he didn't care for the latest fashions like other men, but he did wear them everyday he was out journeying across the island for their practical uses; all the Knights of the Round Table did-including Arthur and the Ladies of Camelot.
The gauntlets started at the midpoint of the arms and fell to the wrists. From there, the gauntlets continued out to cover the top portion of the hands, protecting the tiny bones and veins, which lay hidden under their skins. The portion of the gauntlets protecting their hands was decorated with the stones that matched their family colors. It was a vanity, but the gems were just lying there and Hart wasn't using them for anything, so he added them in without bothering to ask any of them if they wanted them in the first place. His were amethyst. Although he hated to admit it, the gauntlets were beautifully done and he did like the way the jewels twinkled in the sunlight.
After placing a sweet and gentle kiss upon his wife's, Ula's, lips, he exited his chambers and made a beeline for Dagonet's chambers, which was the closest wing to his. As he banged on the doors, he impatiently tapped his foot against the stone floor. Nearly two minutes later, Dagonet's still sleep-dazed face appeared.
"Tristran, what is it?" he asked as he stretched out his giant-like body.
The scout's lips turned down in a puzzled frown as his sharp eyes searched for Fulucina in the available space between Dagonet and the door. She wasn't there.
"Where is Fulucina?" he asked shortly as a tiny burst of panic welled up in his gut. He tried to calm himself down by thinking She's probably in the kitchens supervising the chefs with breakfast. She is the Head Chef after all!
Dagonet blinked and said with a conundrum tone in his voice, "I don't know. Imogene isn't in her cradle either. You might want to check the family commons."
Tristran raised an eyebrow in question and Dagonet hurried to explain, "She sometimes takes Imogene out there, and sings to her whilst she goes to sleep when our daughter is being stubborn. She does this so I can get some sleep. You might try there."
Tristran nodded sharply and spun away.
Dagonet sighed as he turned towards his window and then back towards his bed. He really wanted to sleep some more, but since he was already up and they WERE supposed to start their journey early today, he decided to stay awake. At least, I'll get a chance to get to the breakfast feast before Bors does.
As Tristran was racing towards their commons, he prayed to anyone listening in the heavens that Fulucina and her daughter were still there. He feared that something had happened and from his jolted wakefulness this morning, his fear had only magnified when he realized that the wife of his friend was missing from their chambers.
He skidded to a halt and blinked. Then he sighed and fell to the floor on his knees. He raised his head towards the ceiling and whispered, "Thank you!"
He got to his feet and gently shook the brown-hared lady of the House of Hors. Fulucina's eyelashes fluttered open and she smiled sleepily at him and tightened her grip on her sleeping baby girl. Tristran returned the smile and said gruffly, "You'd best return to your chambers. The day will start soon enough without you having a hurt neck from sleeping like that."
Fulucina or Cina to her friends and loved ones nodded and quickly left the chambers. Tristran breathed deeply and shook his head once he got his panic under control. He shook his head again, only this time, at his own feelings and reactions to them. This would have never happened six years ago. But, I guess five and a half years of marriage and children can change a man. He thought ruefully to himself as he grabbed the last apple from the fruit basket on the table and left the Circle of Wings to escort the Sarmatians to the Great Hall.
As he left he thought distractedly where is that apple girl, Katheryne? She was supposed to fill the fruit basket last night?
After climbing up six flights of stairs, Tristran strolled up to the guard on duty, Sir Morton of the Round Table, and commanded, "Open the doors loudly, lets give them a wake-up that they'll never forget."
Sir Morton', normally bland face, transform into a smirk as he nodded at his superior, for that was what Tristran was. Morton was the third best scouter in the kingdom third only to Tristran and Lavelle, Tristran's fourteen year old Page soon to be promoted Squire.
Tristran nodded back as Morton gripped the oak door handles securely and roughly shoved them open. As the large doors gonged their morning announcements to the dead asleep Sarmatians, Tristran waked without error to the large east-facing windows. He threw open the curtains and smiled darkly as the sunrise cast brightly colored beams of dancing sunlight all over the visitors.
With cries of shock and protest, the group of thirty or so Sarmatians grudgingly got to their feet.
Atilla was not a happy man. Now, generally this was a normal thing, but with the events of yesterday still fresh in his mind, all his planning that he did in secret, and the early wake-up call was a recipe for disaster! Since his mind was still to distorted to think straight, he stomped over to the impertinent boy and growled out in his native language, "What's the meaning for this boy? We were asleep! And most of us didn't fall asleep until two hours after the witching hour."
Tristran wasn't impressed by the older man's attempt to unhorse him by trying to intimidate him and replied matter-of-factly, "You were warned by Lord Lancelot that I would arrive with the dawn to escort you to the Great Hall from breakfast. I am here. Actually, I let you sleep in. Dawn was nearly an hour ago. Hurry and change. I shall be waiting for you out in the hall."
With that, Tristran spun on his heel and the doors slammed shut behind him making the loud gonging sound reverberate in the chambers.
Princess Ilona of the Panther Tribe, Tristran's little sister, smiled to herself as she and Habren hurriedly changed clothes. So, big brother hasn't change so much after all. She thought victoriously. She cast a glance at her future sister-n-law, Calbur of the Panther Tribe, and grimaced. Calbur was, in truth, her and Tristran's third cousin, and she shudder with revulsion as she envisioned what Calbur and Tristran's children would look like. Her own son was an exact replica of Tristran, and he wasn't very smart. She turned to Habren and smiled. She enjoyed the company of the Lion Princess because they understood the dangers their other tribesmen were studiously ignoring. With Rome stealing all their boys and men, those of the male persuasion that were left behind in their tribes-the very old, the very young, and the disabled, had to marry or mate with the women left behind. They were slowly chocking themselves to death with all the inbreeding.
The two like-minded princesses nodded to one another and hurried out the doors. The others followed behind them-at a much slower pace though.
Habren was excited. Today was the day she would endeavor to change her eldest brother's mind. If she could persuade him to let her and the others stay, Arthur would surely allow it! She had seen how much this King Arthur relied on her brother, and she planned on using this Achilles' heel to her advantage.
She moved to stand close to the stoic Sarmatian Knight, and said in their language hoping that she could get him to say something, "Your sister, has waited patiently to meet with you. Will you say something to her?"
Tristran turned his head slightly and as he moved to the left slightly more away from her than he had been before, he answered back in Briton, "If she wishes to talk to me, she knows what to do. I haven't changed so much that I forgot how to talk to my own sister."
Habren was shocked and a bit irked when the Knight she had been admiring the day before because he had taken control of the meeting away from his King, took a deliberate step away from her and answered her in the language of the land they were currently standing on. She took a deep breath and challenged him by stepping forward and straight into his personal space.
She tilted her head and asked gently, "Have you? You answer a fellow royal in a foreign tongue and purposely move away from me. What have I done to earn your disgust?"
Tristran's eyebrows rose at her words, but he kept the smile off his lips. Lancelot's sister is definitely as opinionated as he is, and just as fearless when it comes time to share her ideas. But, he thought with a slight frown showing on his lips, I am not the same teenager I once was who followed the orders of my elders and played the polite face towards the other royals. I am a new man they have no idea about, and they must earn my trust, and so far they have not done so.
Tristran tilted his head down a bit to look her in the eyes and said strongly as the other Sarmatians exited the chambers, "Princess Habren, while I am a royal of the Sarmatians, I gave up that title when I left for Briton twenty years ago. Ilona's husband or if my mother birthed another son for my father, has the title now. Now, please, follow me."
Tristran tilted his head to his sister and raised an eyebrow. He watched with pleasure as his little sister smiled and nodded as she placed a hand over her heart and then held her hand out to him. He repeated the motion and waved her in front of him. He had always loved his sister more than anyone else in his family. When his family had discovered that Ilona was mute when she was three years old, they had ridiculed her, and his father wanted to kill her. Only he loved his baby sister enough to step in and thwart his father from murdering his guiltless sister. His mother, Queen Tyze of the Panther Tribe, had turned her head away from the activities his father was doing, and pretended that his sister had died in childbirth to save face. He shook his head softly as he thought to himself to my tribe, perfection in everything is paramount. For the royal princess of our tribe to be mute, was the greatest slap in the face the gods could have given our parents. Mother loved the power and prestige of our tribe, and cared nothing for Tsar, Ilona, Demeter, Diana or me. She publicly cared for Tsar and me since he was the heir and her ticket to more power and I was her back up, but in the silence of our own home, she treated us no better than orphaned bastards. It only got worse when she promised me to Calbur when Tsar died.
As he shuddered to clear his mind of those thoughts, he was surprised that he had lead them unconsciously to the Great Hall, and said loudly, "Here is the Great Hall! You are permitted to eat your fill and when you have finished, you are to be escorted to the stables where the Knights and the Outer Defense Soldiers will be waiting for you. Eat well 'Sons and Daughters of Sarmatia'!"
With that he turned sharply on his heel and made his way to the stables. Unfortunately he didn't get very far as Calbur slide up to him and said in a pretend coy voice as her fingers tiptoed up his muscular chest to his neck where they played with his braids, "Where are you going so fast husband? I was disappointed you didn't escort us to our chambers. I would have liked to bed down with you since we are to be wed when we return to Sarmatia. I'm sure your mother would have ignored the fact that we aren't married yet."
Tristran's face contorted in a super-human attempt at keeping his rage from showing as he said flatly and harshly removed her fingers from his body, "I was otherwise detained, and I'm NOT your husband Calbur."
Tristran watched his ex-betroth pout and whine, "I AM your wife! Your mother and mine promise it so! You cannot go against the words of Queen Tyze, even if she's your mother! Why are you acting so frigid to me?"
Then he watched as her eyes grew icy cold as she added slyly in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear easily and without a chance of miscommunication; "Don't tell me you've never laid with a woman before Husband! A Knight of your looks must have had many lovers in your years here in Briton."
Tristran's control was hazardously looming near its breaking point as a few of the men he had seen with Lancelot and Galahad and Gawain snorted in laughter as he said through gritted teeth, "No, I have laid with women before. I am acting, as you've said, "frigid" towards you because I am married to a wonderful, beautiful healer and have two beautiful children. Now, let me go, or I shall remove your arm very painfully."
Then as her eyes turned slightly more guarded, he added dangerously in Sarmatian so all of them could hear him as she had done to him, "And, since I've been a Knight since I was seventeen and training years before even that, I know many, MANY, MANY ways of killing slowly and painfully."
Calbur gulped in fear as her betrothed's eyes changed from a steely gray to a warm gray, if that was at all possible, when his eyes met his sister's. His sister nodded and smiled at him in understanding. Calbur clenched her fists by her side in rage. How DARE that muted idiot dare to agree with her arrogant husband! Tristran belongs to me! Me! It was with their union that would make their tribe soar to the top and knock the Lion tribe to the depths of the fiery hell that Romans were so scared of. How dare her sister-n-law do this to her!
Calbur bit her lip harshly and ecstatically licked the blood away from her bottom lip. She was the best warrior princess of their tribe, second to no man. As was their laws, she could not marry until a man defeated her in combat. In the fifteen years Tristran had been gone, Calbur had been challenged more than one hundred times by every Sarmatian male in all the territories. Her only chance at marriage and power was through Tristran and or the other Knights-preferably Tristran-she didn't want to leave her homeland to live with another inferior tribe after all. By Mithras! I'll get him to defeat me in honorable combat, or I'll kill his wife in her sleep and steal the babies and raise them as my own and turn them against him!
Tristran saw the determined glint in the blue eyes of his former betrothed, and knew that she was planning something, but he didn't know what. He sighed, yet one more thing for him and the other Knights to worry about. He ruthlessly pulled his arm away from her and left without saying another word.
When the double doors banged closed behind Tristran, Habren said loudly, "This is what you are all going to be doing today…DON'T MAKE THE KNIGHTS MAD! King Arthur has already expressed a great desire to either kill us all or send us by boat back to the main land. Plus, none of our sons wish to return home. I, for one, do not want to return to Sarmatian and tell our leaders and mothers that their sons refuse to come home. So, we must make ourselves appear danger less to them so they will let us stay."
As another attempted to speak up, Tarkan cut in, "By appearing harmless to them, they might be persuaded into letting us stay, so we can convince our brothers to return home." To himself he thought Lancelot MUST come home! I'm NOT marrying Agrimpasa! I'm NOT! But how will I get him to come home? I…I must make him see that staying here will only cause him heartache. But how? Then his thoughts trailed to his older brother's children and inadvertently to their mother and Lancelot's wife.
A glint appeared in his eyes that all who knew him could not label and it worried them greatly. Of course…when Habren convinces Lance to let us stay, I'll plant the seeds of betrayal in his mind and flirt with his wife. It's mean and I'll hate myself in the end I know, but I WILL NOT marry Agrimpasa! I've already promised Jessiopeia that I will marry her when we return! And I WILL NOT break that promise to the mother of my unborn child. Even if I have to break my brother's heart and family to do it….
Tor snorted and said as he crossed his arms, "I still say we should just kill all the little bastards and drag them all home like the stragglers that they are. Bors knows he has a betrothed at home! Artemis will not wait for much longer for him to come home."
Then he thought, But how can I achieve this? Bors will be watching my every move, and the others will too. I don't have the intensive training that Bors has in warfare. He'll kill me before I can kill even one of those mongrel bastards. But, I HAVE to remain here to accomplish this, so…I must play nice with my half nieces and nephews.
Atilla smirked victoriously and added in support, "Hear, hear, I agree, we should just grab them all, strap them to our horses, and return to Sarmatia whether they like it or not!"
He thought, Excellent! With Tor's help I can complete my plan and kidnap one of those bastards and force all our sons to return home!
As a whole, the Sarmatians ignored them, but Tor nodded in companionship and understanding. The group ate silently and when they were finished, Agrimpasa marched up to the door and as she hammered on them and shouted in a shrieking tone, "Open the damn doors! We're finished!"
The doors opened and revealed Galahad standing there with his hands placed over his ears. He glared at his twin sister and demanded, "Must you screech so loudly, girl? You about nearly made my ears bleed off! I thought for sure you would have outgrown that pre-adolescent impulse by now!"
Agrimpasa folded her arms across her bosom and said snarkly in a mocking concerned tone, "Of brother dearest, just as I thought you'd have outgrown your pre-adolescent urge to bed anything with blond hair and blue eyes. After all, Antiope is brown hared and has brown eyes."
Galahad growled something under his breath and Agrimpasa tried desperately to hear it. Unfortunately, all she heard was the utterances of the horrid Woad language.
She glared even more ruthlessly at him and yelled, "You speak in that vile tongue as well? Mother will skin you alive Galahad!"
Then she froze, her eyes grew wide, and she pleaded, "Please, PLEASE, PLEASE tell me Gawain doesn't know this as well! Mother will die if she finds out!"
Galahad simply smiled and leaned against the stone walls of the castle. He didn't even deign her with an answer and Agrimpasa felt all her blood bleed out of her face. That's when she and the others got a good look at his clothes. They gasped. These weren't the clothes of the free spirited Sarmatian Princes they remembered. These were the clothes of strong willed, commanding, high-spirited Lords. He was dressed in black leather boots, black leather pants, a black leather belt with a bronze wolf with a light blue topaz jewels for eyes, a light blue cotton shirt, his iron gauntlets with light blue topaz hand guards, and a black cape with a bronze wolf cape clasp on his right shoulder.
Agrimpasa frowned heavily and asked pompously, "What on earth are you wearing!"
Galahad smirked and answered as he pushed himself off the wall and walked towards the stables, forcing the others to follow him less they get lost in the castle's many hallways, "I'm wearing what I usually wear when I'm going somewhere in Briton. The others are dressed similarly to me only with different colors. Now, come on, we're late because you ate for so long."
Galahad led them to the stables very quickly. It seemed like he was in a hurry to get rid of them as fast as he possibly could.
As they followed the fast moving Lord, the castle's many tapestries and engravings awed the Sarmatians. All the walls had the engravings that matched the shields in the Hall of Justice. As they passed by the workers in the palace, the workers stopped and bowed lightly to Galahad and gave him jovial greetings. Agrimpasa in particular, noticed how her twin made the effort to appear equally joyful to the castle workers. He even smiled and greeted over half of the workers by name causing them to smile splendidly back at him.
Habren winced at the thought of them being herded like horses out of her brother's life. I'm probably right too. It just isn't fair! All of us are being rebuked for the thoughts and actions of a few of us. She would have to confront her brother about staying here cautiously as she didn't want them to think she was trying to go after their children. She didn't blame them though. She understood completely that Atilla and his followers presented themselves as a threat to their children, and if she had any children herself; she'd be just as vigilant.
When they arrived, Arthur, seated tall and proud on his warhorse, Cagne, said commandingly, "Your horses have been made ready for you. All you need to do, is mount up and we can leave."
Out of the corner of her eye, Habren saw her brother kissing his wife and her sister-n-law, Emogen, passionately. Her brother picked up his son, handed him to Lord Bors eldest daughter, Caoimhe, and proceeded to pick Emogen up and continue to kiss her. The elder twins and Lancelot own twin daughters, the Sun and Moon of House Lyon, giggled at the show. She noticed the other Knights rolling their eyes at the display and decided that this was a common occurrence with her brother and his wife. She smiled slightly at them. They truly looked to be in love and she was truly happy for her brother. He then proceeded to hug and kiss his daughters and when he took his son into his arms once more, he kiss his son's brow. He smiled at them all and mounted his black warhorse.
She smiled and asked slightly shocked and amazed, "Is that Vertigo?"
Lancelot looked back at her with a tiny smile and replied proudly as he rubbed the neck of his horse, "Yes, this old warhorse has served me well. We're the best of friends, isn't that right old friend?"
Habren had to laugh as the horse that her father had given her brother twenty years ago, Vertigo, snorted in agreement and bounced his head up and down excitedly. Lancelot laughed too and added, "He's twenty one years old and acts like he's ten again!"
The horse, Vertigo, snorted and bucked a little causing Lancelot to grip the horse's side with his thighs and exclaim, "Okay! Maybe not so old, eh?"
Vertigo neighed and settled down. Lancelot chuckled along with the other Knights as they too said good-bye to their families.
Seamus smiled from on top of his horse, a gray hared horse with a black mane and tail named Black-Eyes, and said teasingly and loudly enough for the First Knight and Agrimpasa to hear, "Don't you worry none, Emmy, I'll protect Lance-y from the big evil witch-lady."
Agrimpasa growled softly to herself as she watched her, HER husband, kissed another woman passionately. She barred her teeth as he hugged and kissed the children that should have been hers. Then she smirked. Lancelot had to pass by her to get to Arthur, she'd just grab him and kiss him in front of everyone and make it look-like he had kissed her. After all, Lancelot was a flirt-always had been. You can't change a man's behavior no matter what. Once a flirt-eternally a flirt-at least that's what her mother always told her. She all but snarled when Seamus trotted across her vision first though, and nearly missed her chance to kiss Lancelot. His horses' neighing shot her back into her right mindset and then she struck.
As he walked over on his horse, Agrimpasa leaned over and felt the world's power take control. She fell. It was timed so perfectly that it looked natural. She smirked triumphantly as Lancelot instinctually, put out his arms and caught her.
He grimaced and just as easily put her back on her horse and said, "Nice try Agrimpasa, but as natural as that looked, it was only an act to get your way."
Galahad grumbled to Gawain quite loudly, "Again!"
Gawain chuckled and nodded in agreement.
Agrimpasa was steaming. She sunk her nails into his upper arm, where the gauntlets didn't protect him, and squeezed as she leaned forward and planted her lips on his. She moaned as she felt his plump sensual lips. They were everything she had imagined them to be. Even as a child, Lancelot's lips were perfectly shaped for kissing. As an adult, they were even better. As a child, he could charm the dresses off of any woman. As an adult, he could do the same and fulfill the desire that he had started within the women's bellies.
Lancelot gasped and felt Agrimpasa take advantage of his brief moment of shock. When his shock wore off, a lot faster that Agrimpasa hoped for he knew, he abruptly pulled back, looked over his shoulder to his wife and smiled reassuringly and lovingly at her.
Agrimpasa nearly screamed when Lady Emogen Serenity Just-Lyon of the Houses of Just and Lyon, Lady Ambassador of Peace and the Queen's High Councilor smiled sweetly back and waved. The children with her waved back at Lancelot enthusiastically too. She couldn't understand why the Lady of House Lyon wasn't behaving in the manner in which she was used to. Whenever she had tried to lead other Sarmatian men on, their wives became insanely jealous and started screaming at her and more importantly, their husbands. Why isn't she responding like she's supposed too!
When Lancelot's back was facing away from her, Agrimpasa saw Emogen look fiercely at her. Agrimpasa felt a burst of panic settle in her belly. That glare wasn't a very nice one and it sent chills straight to her soul.
Arthur shook his head as his friend and second-n-command reached his side and sigh out, "It's only going to get worse, isn't it?"
Lancelot snorted and replied back sarcastically, "Does it ever get better before getting worse for us? I mean, look at our history and tell me one single time where the best events happened BEFORE the worst occurred first?"
The First Knight of the Round Table shook his head tiredly and gave his old friend a nudge in the sides. Vertigo responded like the old-pro that he was and soon he and three other Knights, Seamus, Dean, and Connor, were racing after him as the others chased after him.
Before he lost sight of the castle's inhabitants, Seamus pulled back and raised his hand in the air and then brought it to his heart. It was his signal to Emogen that he would watch over and protect Lancelot with his life just like he had done so for her all those years ago.
The group traveled for two hours in absolute silence. A few of the Knights siblings had tried to talk to them, but when they received stone cold silence, the Sarmatians took the hint and remained silent.
Habren was antsy. She wanted to start persuading her brother into letting them stay in Camelot and Briton for another moon or two, but with the reception she and the others had been given, she didn't want to take any chances. She sighed when Ilona trotted up to her and made a few hand movements. Habren raised an eyebrow and made a few hand gestures herself. Ilona snorted and made a few more movements, and tilted her head towards the Knights. They were staring at the two of them with open interest.
Arthur cleared his throat and said slowly, "It's interesting, isn't it? How a person, who cannot talk verbally, can get their point across with a few hand signs. Tristran taught all of us the sign language you and he developed and it helped us greatly when we needed the cover of silence. Why did you learn, lady?"
Habren blinked at the King's choice of opening dialogue, but nodded and decided to follow his lead. Talking was talking, and at this point in time, she'd take up a conversation about sex and incest just to get the lines of communication started.
"I learned when I had to represent my father in the councils with Tarkan because he was very sick one summer a few years ago."
At Lancelot's concerned face, she waved her hand through the air and answered sincerely, "It was a simple head cold that got the best of him. He beat it in the end though and is just a strong now as he was when we were little. A good thing too, since Litaleya, Zambian, and Hera kept him on his toes before he really comprehended he was the father of three more children."
Lancelot blinked at that and felt his throat close up on him. He had three more siblings that he had never known about. Of course, he knew intellectually that his mother most likely would birth his father more children since she was only in her early thirties when he left, but it was still a shock to hear the truth of it right in front of him in the form of his baby sister. He grimaced to himself and thought darkly No, she's not my baby sister anymore. That honor goes to a girl I've never met before…Hera.
Habren tilted her head down and smiled to herself. It was a dirty trick, but it gave a powerful message to her brother. He had family that needed him back home, and he couldn't dawdle here in Briton any longer. Of course, she'd keep him here for the amount of time necessary to convince the others that they needed the blood of other nations to keep their people alive, but when she had succeeded in that venture, she'd be able to put her complete attention on her brother and make him go home. Since she was sure he would never leave without them, Emogen and the children would be welcome to come as well.
Arthur saw the pain cross his friend's face, and cleared his throat loudly and sent a callous glare at the Lion Princess. She simply smiled and shrugged. Arthur knew she wasn't very apologetic about what she said, but it was still a very uncouth thing to do. Lancelot really had wanted to go home, but at the time Emogen couldn't travel and he couldn't leave Camelot to his second-n-command's jurisdiction. Godrerik was just too bloodthirsty and addicted to power. He bit his lip and looked ahead of him where Tristran was waiting on top of a hill with Siolae perched serenely on his iron gauntlet.
When they reached the Scout, he reported, "The Mystifying Forest is just ahead of us. Also, something is there watching us. We must cross it warily."
The Sarmatians that overhead the conversation involuntarily griped their weapons and glanced around one another warily. What was out there that had even the Knights, who had fought on these very lands for twenty years, to become cautious?
Habren watched as her brother, Lancelot, glance about him and pay a lot of attention to the forest. She, too, glanced in that direction and felt her heart skip a beat as a shadow jumped from the tree and onto the ground before it was literally swallowed by the darkness of the forest's foliage.
Tristran's bland voice rolled over them all, "Inish, they are playing with us Arthur."
The Sarmatians watched as the Knights visibly paled and watched as their hands inched towards their weapons of choice.
Calbur, who had strayed to Tristran's side in a desperate hope to gain his favor while he was away from his wife and children, place a convincing hand on his protected arm and asked concernedly, "What are Inish?"
Dagonet smirked and answered his very favorite topic of discussion, "Inish, are what the people of Briton call Devil Ghosts. They roam the forests and feast on those not of this land. They like to tease those who are their prey. You'd best sleep with one eye open tonight, less you find yourself the meal of a vengeful spirit."
Many of the Sarmatians gulped and twisted to and fro in their saddles. The Sarmatians, Habren, Ilona, and Agrimpasa in particular stared into the forest vainly. The early morning Briton mists covered that which was open ground and the gloom of the forests covered the rest. Then just as their eyes gave up, three blue black blurs entered their vision from the right and three arrows flew out of the forests and met the ground just before Atilla, Tor, and Pappy. Their horses reared up in terror and knocked the three men off their steeds. The three landed in a muddy knoll and laid there shocked as their horses ran deep into the forest.
Dagonet shook his head sadly and said in a mocking tone of remorse, "That's to bad, they have already chosen their next meal…you are condemned to a long, terror filled death, my Lords."
I hope this chapter makes up for two weeks of not being here to update!