Okay, I hope this chapter isn't too terribly dull. I realized that I'm already 4 chapters into this and there has only been one throat slicing and absolutely no snogging. I will have to change that in future chapters. :P
Saxongirl345- Thanks so much! I'm glad you are enjoying it thus far!
lizzy- Thank you! I'm glad it made you laugh. I had fun writing it.
-------------
It was early morning when Seanna crept into Galahad's room, hoping not to wake him. She knelt down beside where the bare chested man lay and gazed with concern at his face that was, as usual, twisted with distress and discomfort. Galahad never looked peaceful when he slept nor could he stay long in one position, but tossed and turned and shifted in every direction. Sometimes he would cry out in the middle of a nightmare until Seanna would be forced to press her hands to his shoulders and speak comforting words until he was once again lulled into silent slumber. Seanna could not help but wonder what tormented him so. What did he dream of? What were these demons that came to haunt him every night?
At first she had welcomed the assignment of looking after the wounded knight because it relieved her from the company of the other disgusting, leering men of the Navari tribe who had taken her from her home. Instead of spending her time amongst them in their main gathering hall, she had an excuse to be elsewhere tending to other responsibilities. In particular, it freed her from the attentions of the leader's son Uris who she would be forced to marry in no more than two weeks if Lancelot did not come for her before then. Before Galahad had regained consciousness, Seanna had even allowed herself the hope of thinking that she was escaping Uris' company to look after her betrothed one, but of course that notion had proven itself false. Yet, to her surprise, even after she had realized her mistake in believing Galahad to be Lancelot, her interest in the injured man did not wane. Instead, she admitted to herself shamefully that her curiosity was only intensifying for this handsome stranger. She found herself intrigued by him and waiting anxiously for the next time he would awaken.
She supposed her curiosity spawned from the grateful, appreciative way he had treated her when he had finally awoken the night before. He had trusted her and submitted to her in a way that touched her deeply because all the warriors she had ever known had treated her with arrogance and imperiousness. Over the past few weeks of living with the Navari tribe, she had forgotten that not all men were lewd and lascivious. The older men of the village were not so bad and she rather liked the Navaris' leader, but the younger men were starved for available women and it showed. Fortunately Ben Sana, the leader of the tribe, had forbidden any man, including his son Uris, to lay a hand on her until her marital future was determined. But that didn't stop their wandering eyes from making a whore of her in their wild imaginations.
But for some reason, she felt that Galahad was different. His eyes held purity of intentions and he was depending on her care. Seanna liked to be needed perhaps because she had always felt so useless in the past. She could do nothing but stand and watch as the Romans returned each year to collect more sons and set fire to the villages when the Navaris once again defied their pact. Now here she was held prisoner in their fortress, but she could not do anything about that either. Yet, at the same time, she was now tending to a brave Sarmatian knight and that was doing something of consequence. If Lancelot were ever injured and alone in a strange place, she hoped that someone would do the same for him. Perhaps that was why she felt such a strong responsibility for Galahad.
Seanna awoke from her reverie when she felt the knight's blue eyes gazing up at her and quickly shook her thoughts from her mind, as though afraid that he could hear them. "Hello," she said weakly, disarmed by his unremitting stare.
"Hello," Galahad replied, still not releasing her from his gaze.
"Hello," boomed a voice from the entryway. The large frame of Ben Sana stood tall in front of them, his face as hard as stone. Galahad's blood rushed to his face with rage at the recognition of this man who was responsible for his capture. He quickly felt at his waist for his sword, but his belt and effects had been removed with the rest of his armor.
"You will not need your weapons here," said Ben Sana, stepping further into the room, "You are Sarmatian and one of us. You will not be harmed."
"I am not one of you!" Galahad spat with contempt.
Ben Sana's composure did not change. "Seanna," he said calmly, "Please leave the room."
The girl did not hesitate, but quickly sprang to her feet and scuttled out of the quarters, gently closing the door behind her as she left. Galahad watched her go and then immediately turned his attention back to Ben Sana who had taken a seat in the chair beside him. Ben Sana was an old man, older than Galahad had realized. His eyes held weariness from a lifetime of painful sights and his forehead held a long, vertical scar that ran perpendicular against the wrinkles of his brow. His appearance denoted that he was a man to be respected and a force to be reckoned with.
"Do you know where you are, soldier?" Ben Sana asked with the nonchalance of one who is tired of keeping up pretenses.
"I know that I am somewhere in the mountains," replied Galahad bitterly, "in a village of the Navari tribe."
"This is my village," said the old man, surprisingly without any real self-importance, "My name is Ben Sana and I am the leader of the Navari tribe."
Galahad shrugged indifferently and averted his eyes to the floor. Ben Sana laughed to himself in amusement. "You are not impressed," he noted.
"Should I be?" asked Galahad defiantly.
"Probably not," Ben Sana admitted with a sly smile, "but I am impressed with you, young warrior. You fought bravely in the forest. I should have known immediately that you were not Roman. It has been many years since I have witnessed such courage." He paused, "Now, I suppose you are wondering why I spared you."
"Not really," said Galahad coldly, "You said yourself it was because I am Sarmatian."
Ben Sana smiled. "Well," he replied, not at all offended by Galahad's tone, "Since you already know so much, allow me to ask some questions of my own."
He waited for a moment, but when he did not receive a reply, Ben Sana continued, "What is your name?"
"Galahad," the young knight answered curtly.
"Galahad," repeated Ben Sana with a respectful nod of his head, "Where did you learn to fight like that?"
Galahad eyed the weathered man that sat before him with apprehension. "Why do you wish to know? What is your interest in me?" he asked skeptically, "What is the point of these questions?"
"I am dying," answered Ben Sana suddenly.
"Excuse me?" responded a shocked Galahad. It had not been the reply he had expected.
"Is the death of an old man so surprising? I'm dying. You're dying. We're all dying," Ben Sana said casually, "I just happen to be doing it faster is all."
"What does this have to do with me?" Galahad asked suspiciously.
"I would give anything to have my youth back," Ben Sana reminisced, his eyes filled with sadness and longing, "but I feel that you, young warrior, are the closest I will ever get to it."
For the life of him, Galahad could not figure this man out. "I---remind you of when you were young?" he guessed.
"No," said Ben Sana wryly, "I was much more handsome."
Galahad rolled his eyes. Despite his better convictions, he was beginning to warm to this man. Ben Sana was not pretentious or self-important like most of the commanders he had known. The only leadership Galahad had ever truly respected was Arthur's, but he imagined he could learn to admire this Ben Sana.
"Tell me, who is the girl who has been caring for me?" Galahad asked, diverting slightly from the topic at hand.
"Ah, so he does not know everything after all," Ben Sana teased, "Her name is Seanna, but do not get any ideas because she is engaged to my son, Uris."
Galahad shrugged his shoulders as if it did not matter to him. "She has been kind to me," he remarked.
"She is a kind person," said Ben Sana, "Any other questions?"
Galahad thought for a moment and finally forced himself to swallow his pride. "What is to become of me?" he asked.
Ben Sana smiled in understanding. "Well, my young warrior," he said sympathetically, "It appears you picked a poor time for traveling through the mountains as a snowstorm has blocked all passageways down to the valley. Until the snow clears from the trail, you are here."
Galahad sighed with affliction at his misfortune; yet, he simultaneously wondered what would have been his fate had he not been brought to this village. "In the meantime," continued Ben Sana, "I wish to know more about you, soldier. Tomorrow you will come to visit me and we shall resume this conversation. But first, tonight we are holding a banquet for my son's thirty-fifth birthday. I expect you to be in attendance."
"If only I hadn't a million other things to do to bide my time…" replied Galahad sarcastically in a half-hearted jest.
Ben Sana patted him warmly on the back. "You and I will get along quite well, I think," he mused.
With that, Ben Sana rose from his chair and exited the room, leaving behind him a rather conflicted Galahad. The young knight was simply baffled by this encounter. To his frustration, he found it incredibly difficult to hate this leader of the Navaris. He knew much of the Navari tribe, though he had never before met any of its members. He remembered from his childhood that many Sarmatian villages were burned in punishment for the Navari sons who refused to serve in the Roman military and the bitterness and contempt that resulted from it. After meeting Ben Sana, however, he realized there must be much he did not know.
Seanna returned to the room presently with fresh bandages in hand. She shut the door quietly and looked down at where Galahad sat on the mat on the floor. "Hello," she said with a hesitant smile.
"Hello," replied Galahad.
"We keep saying that," she remarked with a light laugh that broke the tension in the room.
"Yes," agreed Galahad with an amused smile, "We do."
"I---should change your bandages," she said awkwardly and once again knelt down beside him. Her expert fingers immediately began unwrapping the bandaging around his bared torso. Galahad simply sat there patiently, hypnotized as he watched her work.
"Are you feeling better?" she asked warmly, trying to make conversation.
"Me? Oh, yes, I'm fine," he stammered, "I've suffered worse than this."
Seanna seemed to be impressed. "You've fought in many battles?" she asked.
"Yes," Galahad replied solemnly, "I served Rome as a knight for fifteen years."
"The man to whom I am betrothed served Rome as well," she confided, "Though I do not know if he was given the title of knight."
Galahad was confused. "I thought the Navaris refused to serve Rome?" he asked.
"They do," replied Seanna, "My fiancée is not of the Navari."
"You are not engaged to the son of Ben Sana?" Galahad asked, still perplexed.
Seanna's face flushed with embarrassment. "Not of my own will," she answered meekly, "If my fiancée, a man of my own tribe, does not come for me in the next two weeks before my twenty-second birthday, then I will be forced to marry Uris."
"If you are not one of the Navari, then how did you come to be here?" Galahad inquired.
"It happened several weeks ago," she explained with a hint of anguish barely detectable in her emotionless tone, "I was taken in the night by a pack of the younger sons of this village, including Uris. Ben Sana is a fair man and a strong leader, but he is growing older and can no longer deny his son of his many wants as he used to. The Navari tribe has never been able to convince their fellow Sarmatian women to live in such seclusion up in the mountains, so they changed their tactics from persuasion to brute force. You will find there are few women who are here by choice."
"Seanna, I'm so sorry," said Galahad sympathetically, angry that fellow Sarmatians could engage in such abuse of power that was more fit for their Roman enemies.
Seanna shrugged off his apology. "Thanks to Ben Sana, I have not been maltreated. Even so, I have nothing to fear," she said confidently, "My fiancée will come for me."
"Listen to me," Galahad said firmly, "You do not know me well, yet, but I like to think that I am an honorable man and I cannot sit back watching this injustice done when there is something I could do about it. Ben Sana promised me that after the snow clears, I will be free to go. When that happens, I swear I will take you with me."
"They will never allow it," Seanna protested, "and I won't have you risking yourself on my account."
"It is the least I could do after you have tended to my wounds so diligently," he insisted, "Tell me, do you want to marry this Uris?"
"No," Seanna replied without hesitation, "It would be my greatest shame."
"Then you will escape with me once the trail is safe to be traveled," Galahad concluded.
Seanna sighed and smiled sweetly. "I thank you, sir," she replied in dismissal, "but it is really unnecessary. Like I said, my fiancée will come for me."
"But---" Galahad was about to protest.
"He will," Seanna interrupted sternly, "I will not allow myself or anyone else to think otherwise."