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Disclaimer: I own nothing save characters not appearing in King Arthur. This story is not meant to insult, impugn the dignity of, or otherwise cause difficulty for the reader. Flames will be used to heat my house, constructive comments will be welcomed and used to improve the story.
Author's Note: Thank you so much. Thank goodness for mothers-in-law who keep my daughter over the weekend so that I can write without interruption. And thank you to all of you who reviewed this story. It kept me knowing that you were enjoying and inspired me to write more. Thank you. As always, responses to your wonderful reviews are at the end of the chapter.
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Anywhere's Better Than Cleveland
Chapter Eleven: Penalties
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The sound of shouting from the alley drew Vanora's attention, her head turning in response to the sounds beyond the tavern.
"Van, calm down," ordered Faith, the slayer laying a calming hand on the redhead's shoulder. Her dark eyes followed the sound as well--the sound of drunken Romans finding their comrade unconscious in the yard. Faith could have killed him and would have in other circumstances. But years spent in a California penal institution and Lorne's own version of therapy had taught her to think through consequences. And dead Roman would have equaled dead Vanora since Vanora was the last person seen with the drunken bastard. Right now, though, she had her boss to calm down. "He's so drunk they'll think he just couldn't finish the deal. Now sit."
Vanora nodded wordlessly and took the seat her friend motioned to. "You will be a target."
Faith grinned, envisioning some good old fashioned Southie retaliation if the Romans were stupid enough to come after the slayer. She moved to the dishes that she had been scrubbing with brushes and lye soap and once again began to attack the wood bowls and iron pots. The stuff burned her nostrils and left her hands dry and tender but Slayer healing was a thing unhindered by Dark Age cleaning methods. "Bring it on. Better they come after me than you," she added. Faith watched Vanora wiping a damp cloth over the crusting blood on her cheek. "When does Bors get back?"
Vanora looked up sharply. "A week. Maybe more." The tavern keeper set the cloth down on the tabletop. "You will not tell him."
Faith arched an eyebrow. "I won't have to with those bruises, Van."
Vanora waited, expression expectant. "I want your word, Faith."
Faith set down the pot that she had scrubbed clean and stepped to the table. "Ya know, back home my word doesn't mean much."
Vanora sighed. "Faith, you have given me no reason to doubt you excepting that. If your own people do not respect your word, then they are fools. Do I have your word?"
Faith watched the red-haired woman. She was serious. "You have my word. I will not tell Bors about either the attack or that I knocked the bastard out. Satisfied?"
Vanora's next action shocked the slayer. Suddenly she was engulfed in a hug that would have cracked her ribs had she been a normal girl. "Thank you," came the soft murmur. Vanora stepped back from the serving girl. "And be careful, Faith. The Romans are not to be toyed with."
Faith arched an eyebrow, once again ushering Bors's lover back to her seat. "Neither am I."
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The fire crackled, only Arthur awake and on watch. Tristan had gone off scouting into the darkness, leaving his Roman commander to tend the fire and guard his comrades from the dangers of the forest. Arthur reached forward, the stick in his hand poking the embers and bringing the flames back to a roaring blaze.
The commander cast his emerald eyes around the campfire, watching the sleeping men who followed him. Bors was snoring fit to shake the pillars of heaven, his chest rising and falling steadily. Near him was the oldest knight's best friend. Dagonet was stretched out and turned on his side, one of his large hands still wrapped around one of the healer's magnificently lethal axes. To the other side of Dagonet was curled Galahad, the youngest of his knights wrapped up in his bedroll and sound asleep. Near him lay Gawain, the leonine knight sprawled on his back and his blanket tucked up to his throat.
Then came the bedroll empty of the scout. Sometimes Arthur wondered when Tristan slept. In fifteen years the wild-haired warrior had clung the tightest to the memories of home and spoke the least of it. Long before Arthur took command of the Sarmatians, Tristan had already proved himself a formidable warrior. And a man who seemed to never sleep.
That was not the case of the occupant of the next bedroll, however. Lancelot, second in command and best friend, was snoring softly where he lay on his side.
In a few short months they would all be released from service. His men would return to Sarmatia and their families. And he would return to Rome and his surrogate father, Pelagius. They would return to the lives interrupted by service to Rome at Hadrian's Wall.
Arthur's joy was tempered. They had built a family of sorts in these fifteen years. He knew these men better than any of his own blood kin. He understood his men. He'd bled with them, tended them, laughed and mourned with them.
In three months that would be gone.
He would watch them go with a smile for them that would not meet his eyes and the knowledge that six more pieces of his soul would be scattered to the wind.
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Rupert Giles winced and leaned back against the tombstone. He was getting too old for hunting, he realized. But he and his Slayer had finished dinner at a nice restaurant and decided to cap off a lovely Chicago evening with a sweep of the local cemeteries.
Buffy slammed Mr. Pointy into a vamp and ran over, worried eyes already assessing her Watcher's possible injuries. "Where are you hurt?"
Giles straightened, wincing at the soreness at the back of his head. "I'm fine," he replied.
Buffy shook her head. "Come on, Watcher o' mine," she murmured, slipping her arm around his waist so that he could lean on her. "We've swept enough of this town's cemeteries. It's time to get you back to the hotel."
Giles grimaced as they made their way towards the car through the graveyard. "You do realize that I'm not an infant."
Buffy chuckled. "Yeah, Giles, kinda noticed that."
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Lorne sipped his martini, watching Dawn and Xander working on cracking the security of Faith's laptop. The demon wasn't sure why the two noncombatants were trying to get into Faith's computer. It was doubtful to have anything of use in the effort to retrieve Faith from wherever she'd been sent. And if the Scoobies had really wanted to crack the slayer's security, they could have asked Willow to crack it.
Which meant that Xander and Dawn didn't want anyone knowing that they were trying to get into Faith's computer.
Interesting.
"What are you two up to?"
Dawn and Xander looked up guiltily.
Lorne chuckled silently. He didn't even need them to sing. Those two were so easy to read. "I don't think that Faith will appreciate you prying," he offered, claiming a seat between the humans. "Now, let a master take a stab at this." The green demon set the martini glass on the table and flexed his fingers. Yes, Willow was the computer diva but Lorne had seen inside Faith's head. And since the formerly dark slayer was currently in another dimension, Lorne had little to fear from a brief invasion of privacy.
Long fingers danced over the keyboard. Moments later music blared from the speakers and the screensaver kicked in.
"Only Faith would have weapons as her screensaver."
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"I'm telling you, that little slut did something to me."
Marius lifted an eyebrow as Lucius motioned to Faith, who was clearing the cups from another table. "Lucius, she's a tiny thing. What could she have done to you?"
Lucius glowered at his friend. "I don't know. But she kept me from having Bors's whore."
Marius shrugged. "Lucius, you were drunk. And if it's company you want, just take her."
Both men watched Faith nearing them, oblivious to their conversation.
"Aye, but we could share."
The men nodded to one another. They watched as Faith continued to clear tables, setting the wooden bowls and cups in the basket she carried. Each twitch of her hips made other parts of their anatomies twitch.
"I wonder what the rest of her looks like."
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"Home."
Dagonet offered a tiny smile to Bors. After the devastation of the Saxons, was it any wonder the way that Bors always returned to Vanora with a passion beyond words? So many times he'd watched Bors cling to his woman as if she was his port in a storm. And she held tight to Bors the same way.
Lancelot kneed his horse into line with the two oldest knights, flashing a smile at Bors. "Aye, and Vanora'll be waiting breathlessly for me."
Bors grinned back. "My Van's got too much taste for the likes of you."
Lancelot chuckled and clucked his horse forward again until he had fallen in step with their commander.
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"Come on, love. Give us a kiss."
"You have got to be kidding me," replied Faith, eyes moving from between the two Romans. "You two are about sixteen hundred years from dental care. And let's not even get started on the body odor." She waved at them dismissively and turned back to the bowls she was stacking.
Arms wrapped around her, sending the bowls clattering to the floor. "Ah, love, you need to learn some manners."
Faith grinned, slamming her head back into the man's nose and cracking his nose. The arms around her slackened and she spun away from the now bleeding Roman.
"I'll have you flogged for that!" sputtered Marius, one of his hands cupping his bleeding nose.
"Wah-wah-wah," murmured Faith, already turning her dark eyes to Lucius, the man who had attacked Vanora. The man who had collapsed in the alley at her hands. "What do you want, tough guy?"
Lucius cast a glance at Marius before lunging at Faith.
Faith sidestepped the Roman, watching with a satisfied smirk as Vanora's attacker impacted with the table with a sickening crunch.
"What is going on here?" came a shout from the doorway.
Faith turned, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet with her fists at the ready in front of her. A Roman officer stood in the doorway of the tavern, dark eyes taking in two Roman soldiers on the ground and one petite woman standing over them. "Just taking out the trash," she replied lightly.
The Roman's frown deepened. "Attacking a Roman officer is punishable by death, woman."
Faith shrugged, not leaving her defensive stance. "What about defending against Roman scum?"
The Roman stepped within the tavern, noting that the dark haired woman did not lessen her stance. "Defending from what, precisely?"
Faith toed Lucius's shoulder where he lay moaning on the floor. "This one attacked the tavern owner. And she's got the bruises to prove it. But she's not some good Roman matron so she's not going to even try to level a charge like that. Then these two," she kicked lightly at the softly cursing Marius, "decide that I'm going to be their next toy but for these two mental giants they decide two heads are always better than one. Sorry, but I ain't no one's bitch."
The Roman officer nodded thoughtfully. "Marius, Lucius, on your feet."
The two Roman soldiers grumblingly got themselves righted.
Turning to the Roman soldiers, the officer glared at them both. "You will both report to me at dawn. We are going hunting for Woads. Now go."
Faith waited as the two pale Roman soldiers left the tavern, then turned to the Roman officer. "Thanks. Um, mind if I know your name?"
The Roman smiled tiredly. "Maxentius Vorenus. Though I do not think you will be thanking me long, lady. To lay a hand on a Roman officer is punishable by death. Their actions mitigate it somewhat, but I have no choice. You will be flogged at dawn."
Faith's smile slipped. "You and what army?" she asked sweetly.
Maxentius Vorenus nodded. "If need be, the whole Roman army. I swear that it will be ten lashes and that you will live. But order must be maintained."
Faith glared at the Roman officer. "So you're letting those two off with a little Woad hunting?"
Maxentius Vorenus offered a sad smile. "I'm letting them off with a likely death sentence, girl. Now rest. I will come for you in the morning."
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TBC...
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To My Wonderful Reviewers:
BleedingTwilight: Thank you! And no worries about not reviewing--I understand all about hectic. And thank you--it's nice to know that I'm not the only one sneaking in a few moments of writing at the oddest moments. I'm feeling a bit guilty about hurting Vanora but hopefully I'll make it up to her soon. And, yeah, Kennedy might be right. And Willow may have to make a choice down the road. You're right, Faith may choose to stay, though this story is writing itself so I honestly have no idea how it will end. Thank you--your comments have kept me going with this story. And at least my daughter seems to be getting the message that Mommy will not have bedtime dictated. All right, yeah, I'm reaching.
Samantha: Yay! Thank you. And glad that you enjoyed how Faith dealt with the Roman. Here's more!
Saxongirl345: So glad. Sorry it took me so long to update but here's more. And more's coming.
Amanda: So glad that you're enjoying so far. And I'm right there with you--Faith is definitely my favorite. Here's more and I'll try to bring more soon.
hazelelf1183: Thank you. Yes, Faith does have a very interesting mind. And here's more.
lysia1982: So glad that you're enjoying. Hopefully I don't disappoint. Here's more. And more is coming.
Aria DeLoncray: Thank you. Here's more and more is coming.