Note: As always, thank you Homeric for being an excellent beta!! I'd like to thank Hope and Love, HopelessRomantic44, Shariena, Saxongirl345, and Blackangel90. Your reviews make me feel all fuzzy inside. Please tell me what you do or don't like in this chapter, I wasn't too sure about how it turned out.

Chapter Four

Emotional Storms

Drowsiness seemed to be creeping up on me like an enemy, however it still paled in comparison to the Saxons not far behind us. Looks of anguish lined the faces of many of the people liberated from Marius's estate. As I walked my thoughts returned time and time again to the enemy that followed. Aethel had been the one to rouse me from my thoughtful state.

"Fulcinia needs your help, Caelia." She spoke softly and the fierce winter wind whipped her hair from her face. I gave my friend a weak smile before walking towards the cage-like contraption that held Marius's once prisoners.

"Caelia!" Fulcinia exclaimed as she saw me. My cousin hadn't even let me into the cart before she had shot out some instructions. I hurried to get them done. Even though I was in the cart, wind and snow was still blown in through the sticks that were used as sides.

Dagonet and Fulcinia were taking care of Lucan's fever while I spoke quietly to the young woman Arthur had saved.

"What's your name?" Had been the first thing I asked to her.

"Guinevere." Her voice was hoarse.

"Caelia is mine," I replied.

Our short conversation was interrupted when Arthur climbed into the cart. He soon spoke some words to her and took her bandaged hand. I watched as he unraveled the dirty cloth and looked at her broken fingers. Arthur pushed her fingers back into place. Whimpers came from Guinevere before actual screams. That's when I realized she had been the prisoner being tortured the night I came in.

I hurriedly left the cart. If I had been able to save her and everyone else that night, she wouldn't be injured right now; perhaps if I had fought better or been cleverer, Lucan would not have been injured either. Musing on my many regrets, I closed my eyes against the wind whipping my face and stopped as I stood away from the group of walkers.

"You seem happy about the weather," said a voice from behind me. Jumping, I turned to see Lancelot, an amused smirk upon his face. Aethel had pointed out each knight to me after learning their names.

I thought about an answer for a moment before replying. "The weather out here seems far better then the weather anywhere else. More so then Rome, perhaps."

"Rome?" he asked quizzically.

"You couldn't see a hint of Rome about me?" I raised an eyebrow at him as a playful smile graced my lips.

It was his turn to raise a brow curiously at me. "Then what is a daughter of a Roman doing so far away from safety?"

"That is a story I'll tell you on another day." With that retort, I promptly strode back to the cart to tend to Lucan and Guinevere.

Arthur left as I came in. Giving him a slight smile, I clambered onto the wooden contraption. Guinevere lay on a pile of blankets. As I moved over to her and touched my palm to her brow, she lightly stirred. I placed a damp cloth on her forehead to ease a fever that I felt sure would soon come.

When Guinevere awoke a few hours later we spoke quietly. Aethel soon arrived to help me with Lucan. Dagonet had gone to ride with the other knights while Fulcinia rode in the carriage her husband and son was also using.

The next few days the Woad woman and I grew closer, however, Aethel decided to keep her Saxon background and ominous past away from Guinevere, and all I could do about that was respect her wishes. When Arthur rode along side the wagon Aethel and myself left Guinevere with smiles on our faces. She had spoken fondly, and often, of him, and we speculated that there might be more than concern for her welfare behind his frequent visits.

I pulled a large fur blanket around us as we watched the conversation between Arthur and Guinevere unfold. We couldn't hear the words each spoke, but we smirked as we returned once he rode off. Not long later we passed a destroyed village. People lay dead and frozen on the ground. I shielded Lucan from this horrible sight. He had seen enough of death for a while.

Not long after we had left the pillaged village I sat on the edge of the wagon. Lancelot sat on his beautiful black stallion and gazed towards a forest not far in the distance.

"Does the Black Sea compare?" I asked him. He looked over his shoulder at me. I continued. "Do you miss it?"

"Yes," he answered me. I smiled and looked down at the ground as I remembered the stories my nursemaid told me. He tilted his head, a grin on his face as he turned his horse around to face me. "Guinevere has been saying this is heaven for her."

His grin disappeared as he replied to me. "I don't believe in heaven. I've been living in this hell. But if you represent what heaven is, take me there."

"You'd think a knight of Rome would know better then to speak to a Roman's daughter that way," was my own response.

He opened his mouth to respond, but rain came pouring down from the sky and mixed with the snow. He closed his eyes and seemed to enjoy it for a moment. "Rain and snow," he paused, his eyes widening for a second. "A bad omen."

I studied him for a second before continuing on. "And you believe in your omens?" Instead of an answer he merely smiled and rode his stallion away.

Our camp for that night was in the trees. I didn't see how we could escape from the Saxons. The sounds of drums seemed to becoming stronger, and most seemed to think no one would live to see the dawn. Small fires were set and food was cooked. It seemed strange to be eating and drinking as though it was a regular night for our huge party.

As the night progressed I left Fulcinia to help bathe Guinevere and then wandered off to explore the camp. I eyed Tristan's bags longingly. My bow had to be tucked away with his belongings. A plan formed in my mind as I walked back to the wagon, making sure to keep away from Marius or his guards. Later, Guinevere left the cart. Soon after I left Aethel sleeping alone under a mound of blankets. I walked passed Dagonet sleeping with a protective arm over Lucan. Seeing Lancelot relaxing against a tree, I walked near him.

"What was Sarmatia like?" I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me. Pulling my furs closer I sat next to him.

"We sacrificed goats, drank their blood, danced 'round fires naked," was his cocky reply. We both laughed before he carried on in a serious tone. "What I do remember, home. Oceans of grass from horizon to horizon further than you can ride. The sky, bigger than you can imagine. No boundaries."

"Some people," I paused, thinking. "Some people would call that freedom." We both still sat, looking at each other. "When you return home, to Sarmatia. Will you take a wife? Have sons of your own? Visit Arthur in Rome?"

"I have killed too many sons," he became rigid and frowned as he looked down at me. "What right do I have to my own?"

"No family, no religion. Do you believe in anything at all?" I inquired, surprised at his answer.

He sighed before speaking. "I would have left Guinevere and the boy there to die." He looked down, as if in shame.

I stayed next to him and when he attempted to move, I halted him. "You fight under Arthur and have stories told about you, legends that even a daughter of a highly placed Roman knows. Yet, you seem to be the exact opposite of what the legends say. Almost as cold as us Romans are said to be." I gave him a bitter smile before standing and walking towards the fire.

Tristan left not too long after my discussion with Lancelot. I waited a while to make sure he was gone and swiftly walked towards his belongings. Wasting no time, I quickly opened the bags and dumped their contents onto the ground.

Suddenly, I felt the tip of a knife bite into the back of my neck. I winced, knowing at once that I was caught once again.

"What are you doing going through my pack?" I heard Tristan's unfamiliar voice.

I told the truth as I had before. "Looking for my bow."

"Your bow?" He asked questioningly. He threw my weapon in front of me. I snatched it from the ground and held it close to my chest, I practically ran away from him once I was sure that he would let me leave. I was just glad to have it again. It was my only reminder of Rome and my father.

The next morning I stretched before shooting a few practice shots into a tree with a couple of arrows that I had packed with my belongings. I smiled as I Aethel tried a few times with another bow. It seemed that she had been practicing her aim and was steadily growing better.

Sounds of fighting suddenly echoed through the camp. I pulled my hood over my face, motioning for my maid to join me as we rushed towards the fighting. When we arrived Marius had a hand clamped over Lucan's mouth and a dagger to his throat. Dagonet stood in the middle of a group of guards with a knife in his hand.

"I have the boy!" Marius shouted to him. Dagonet froze, staring at him. Alecto and Fulcinia gaped at the scene, astonished that Marius would do that. "Kill him!" Marius shouted to the guards. They glared at Dagonet.

Fulcinia tried to stop her deranged husband. "No, don't! Let him go!" Marius pushed her one handedly to the ground, ignoring her protests.

"Kill him now!" Marius screamed.

I cocked an arrow and aimed it at Marius. "Don't you dare do it." I spat at him.

"You!" His eyes widened in shock. Before he could continue an arrow flew into his chest.

Guinevere had arrived and now had another arrow, ready to shoot. I lowered my bow, gazing down at Marius's body. He had been family.