AN: This chapter may go a bit slow but it will speed up so hang in there. Sorry about the long wait I'm getting ready to go back to school and I've been working overtime at my job because of the back to school season. Please forgive me for the long wait. Thank you reviewers for the support. I love you all. Please keep it coming. Now on to the story...

Chapter Seven

Arcadia quickly picked up her bag that she had carelessly thrown aside. In all that was going on she had forgotten about Cicero who remained safely tucked into the bag.

It wasn't far to the master bedroom that Cyric had taken upon himself to make his own. Its walls were covered with light tapestries of varied colors. The large canopy bed sat in the middle of the room with only white mosquito netting for privacy. Red and white pillows were pilled on top of the royal red comforter lined with gold. A small white throw was partially hanging off the end onto a chestnut trunk. A night table sat on each side with windows that sat next to this. The red curtains were closed allowing only the dim light of the candles set at intervals around the room. On the far wall was a door leading to the bath and a large closet-size room. A chest-of-drawers and wardrobe sat against the opposite wall.

Cyric dragged Arcadia through the doorway and pushed her into the small room. Yanking her bag from her hand he closed the door and locked it before throwing the bag beside the bed on the way out.

Arcadia screamed and banged again the door but it would not budge. She turned around to look at her prison. The stone walls were bare and the wooden floor hard and uncomfortable. Arcadia slid down the door to rest knowing it was futile attempt to open the door.

Back in the bedroom beside the bed two small eyes appeared through the hole in the top of Arcadia's bag. Cicero, still a little dazed from being tossed about, peeked out from his hiding place cautiously. He waited a few more minutes to make sure all was silent before quickly leaping from the bag. He poked his around the corner of the bed checking for any movement before he ran towards the locked door.

Arcadia sighed in defeat, closing her eyes to try and calm her nerves. She could get through this. She had been through worse before and had obviously come out just fine. She groaned before throwing her head back against the door. She wondered how her companions were faring. She hoped for the best but could only think about the worst. He eyebrows knitted together when she heard a soft scrapping sounded and then a light banging against the door. She put her ear to the door and heard a low squeak. A smile came to her face. She had forgotten about Cicero.

"Cicero!" She cried softly through the door to be heard. She heard another low squeak. "Cicero, you've got to find the key." She hoped he could understand her. 'He's a monkey, of course he can't understand me.' She thought with a frown clearly shown upon her chapped lips. She could her him jumping to try and turn the small knob but he had no luck. "The key, Cicero. Key!" She knew he could really understand but what else did she have to do.

Well it turns out that this monkey wasn't as stupid as she had thought him to be. He knew he had to find that little metal thing that humans liked to stick into that small hole to get the door open and he knew exactly who had it. He crawled under the large bed dragging the bag under with him. He would wait for this huge ugly human to return. Then he would get the little metal thing.

A great rattling sound echoed off the bare stonewalls and along the empty corridors. "Stop all that racket, you dogs?" One of the guards yelled from down the long corridor.

Lancelot gave the bars one last shake before pushing himself away.

"Will you sit down and calm yourself." Mila pulled Lancelot down onto the bench in their small cell. "Every thing is going to work itself out. Arcadia will be fine."

"How can you be so sure?" Lancelot sighed.

"She had her bag, at least I hope, and if she does she will have Cicero." A sly smile crept to Mila's lips.

"If Cicero is locked up as well, then what good does that do us?" Gawain asked from the cell next to them, which he was sharing with Galahad.

"They most likely are in the same situation we are." Galahad slumped lower on the bench he was seated on.

"That's always possible, but there's still hope." Guinevere stated where she was sharing a cell with Dameon. Everyone looked up at her, a small sliver of hope appearing in all their eyes.

The stench of sweat and wine engulfed the small tavern now occupied with many drunken Saxons. Cyric and two of his best men, Ratt and Dane, sat on either side of him. Their hushed voices ceased as the bartender sat three mugs down in front of them.

"What is your plan for the prisoners? You know we don't take prisoners." Dane asked.

"Why not just kill 'em?" Ratt looked over at Dane meeting his approving gaze.

"Because..." Cyric slammed his mug back onto the table after taking a drank. "...we may be able to use them to our benefit, you weasels."