Note: I am back from my hiatus! However, I do have a lot of pressure on me beteen school, personal life, etc. I'll try to keep pumping out chapters. Special thanks to Homeric. She Beta'ed this chapter, as she has the rest. I owe her a ton! And I'd like to thank my reviewers who reviewed on Chapter Four. So, thank you SaxonGirl345, HopelessRomantic44, Shariena, and Hope and Love. I'm going to keep my little Hiatus note up, though. It's if anyoe ever looses their place or if I loose mine (which does happen on rather embarrassing occasions). You finally you guys learn a bit more about Aethel in this chapter!! Yay!

I have one othe request right now, please review! I'd enjoy some constructive criticism, general criticism, pretty much anything that'll help me along as a writer. Now, on with the chapter!

And yes, I fixed a problem that probably confused some of you. Sorry, guys.

Chapter Five

Reminiscence and Reality

The caravan carried on. Many of the people seemed overjoyed that Marius was finally dead, however I wasn't, or at least, not as much as I should have been. Though a murderous monster, he had still been kin. Avoiding the rest of the liberated people, I walked close to the back. A few knights, however, rode their horses at the end to watch the peasants.

Lancelot moved his horse towards me. "Need something?" was all I asked him.

He looked down at me and raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you be with the other Romans?"

Rolling my eyes, I said, "Because I'm Roman I'm supposed to go sit in a fancy carriage and not get my feet wet and freeze?"

"Yes."

"Well, fine." I walked towards the cart, purposely avoiding the carriage that held Fulcinia. Lucan sat in a pile of furs, Dagonet and Aethel leaning close together behind him. I beamed at the young boy and shot a questioning look at Dagonet and Aethel as I climbed into the wagon.

"Oh, Caelia!" Aethel exclaimed; she seemed surprised to see me there. "I thought you'd ride in Marius's old carriage." I raised a brow at her as she paused. "But, I need to have a word with you." She looked at Dagonet with a light smile. We both left the cart and walked some paces behind it. "I saw Arthur walk out of a clearing looking angry last night."

"Really? Any idea why?" I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me as usual.

"I saw that Guinevere had been in the clearing, too. I think another Woad might have been there."

"You know Guinevere would never try to hurt Arthur."

"I know," Aethel paused. "I think we should find out what it was about, though."

"Since when have you been so curious?" I laughed, hugging her.

During a very brief halt for a meal, Aethel and I hurriedly pulled Guinevere aside. We walked along in the forest that stood high and mighty around us. "So, where were you last night?" I started.

"Well..." Guinevere paused for a long moment. "Talking to Arthur. With Merlin."

Aethel's eyes grew large. "Merlin? The dark sorcerer?" My mouth stood agape.

Guinevere's eyes rolled. "He isn't a sorcerer - Just a leader for the British."

"Then how come he makes those stones of fire fall from the sky? He's used them on the Saxons before. I saw it before I was taken!" Aethel said.

"Those are just catapults. They throw it for us, of course."

I was confused as to what they spoke of, only half listening as their conversation carried on. Then a question popped into my head and curiosity followed it closely. "Why did Arthur seem so angry when he left you and Merlin?" I asked the Woad woman.

Guinevere and Aethel fell silent. "He thinks Merlin intentionally killed his mother," Guinevere eventually replied quietly.

We all became quiet again, with only the sound of the crisp crunch of snow beneath our feet to break the silence. With nothing better to do, I dwelt upon memories of my childhood. Everything had seemed bigger and better then: less misfortune and more grandeur had filled the air. My mother and sister had seemed more loving to me then and my happiness had known no bounds. When Aethel had came she had been dirty and different, but we had grown attached to each other quickly. In time I had come to bless the fates for bringing such a loyal friend into my life.

My maid was the one to interrupt my thoughts. "You seem to be thinking hard about something."

"Thinking about my childhood," I replied. Aethel's smile vanished. "A subject not to be talked about then, Aethel?"

She shook her head and gave us a weak smile. "I want to speak of mine, but you already know all there is to know, Caelia."

I looked around us, purposely avoiding the gaze of Guinevere. The trees were covered in snow, as was the ground. Behind us the imprints of our footsteps lay neatly on the ground. My thoughts wandered and unwillingly my thoughts drifted into the pictures that Aethel had painted for me long ago.

Blood rolled towards the child version of Aethel as she hid under a nearly broken bed. The bodies of her loved ones who had fought back fell to the ground and laid in a puddle of their intermixing blood. The ones who had managed to survive were few, and only consisted of herself, a sickly aunt and her maid.

Before the young girl had time to react, the bed was thrown over by a rather frightening looking Roman, his blood red cape the same colour as the sticky substance pooling on the wooden boards.

"Another!" the Roman was obviously surprised by the child lying at his feet. He pulled Aethel to her feet rather roughly and bound her hands like the other Roman's had done to the two other Saxons that huddled together. The soldier's smirked evilly at the three and ushered them out of the room and down the hall.

They soon stood in a rather spectacular looking greeting hall. Marble columns stood proudly, but were barely seen due to the extinguished torches that had once been attached to the walls. It was obviously a place of minor nobility. The three females were forcefully moved through the only way out. The strong wooden door that had once stood their proudly was now in pieces on the stone floor.

A carriage waited there with some rather suspicious Roman men standing about. They weren't of the soldier's rank and a taller one, with a rather evil glint i.n his eyes, held a whip. Aethel hadn't known it at the time, but they were the slave drivers that would take her to Rome, and eventually into my family's employment.

Resting a hand on Aethel's shoulder, I gave it a slight squeeze and smiled encouragingly at her. Guinevere looked between us before inquiring, "Am I missing something?"

With the smile still on my lips, I opened my mouth, ready to respond. However, I never did have a chance to reply. An arrow flew past my head, missing my face by only a few centimeters. I was the first to look over my shoulder, only to see a rather frustrated looking Saxon scout holding a crossbow.

A scream escaped my lips as another arrow flew past Aethel. I had never been attacked with such a deadly weapon before, and I was unsure what to do. Guinevere shoved me sideways, and grabbing hold of Aethel's hand, all three of us fled. At the time, we had no idea where we were heading, or if this scout was forcing us towards the rest of the Saxon army.

Aethel let out a sharp scream as another horsemen came into view in front of us. I grabbed her, yanking her away from the danger of being trampled by either horse, and continued to run with a hand around her wrist. Guinevere was on my left as we continued to run, dodging through the trees. Another scream suddenly echoed in the air, followed a thud. I glanced over my shoulder to see that the Saxon scout was now on the ground, blood staining the snow around him.

Stopping abruptly, I turned completely around, only to come face to face with Arthur's scout. Tristan shot a glance at us as he rode past.

A frown pulled my lips down. The three of us walked behind Tristan's horse as he rode slowly in front of us, only exchanging glances. When we reached the caravan Aethel went off to speak with Dagonet while Guinevere and I rode with Fulcinia. After a few hours of what seemed like endless sitting we stopped suddenly. I looked out of the small window, seeing Tristan exchanging words with Arthur. I watched them. Tristan pointed in a direction and continued to speak to his commander. I raised a brow at that and looked in the direction he had pointed out. I gazed in it for a while. It seemed to be mostly trees and nothing else.

I sighed and looked back towards Tristan. His brown eyes found mine for a split second. His gaze had seemed somewhat questioning. Hurriedly, I broke the eye contact and looked at Arthur. He was speaking with the leader of our refuge caravan and was pointing towards the snowy woods.

Soon enough, we were heading in that direction. I kept my bow at my side and my eyes alert for the time being. I was unsure of this new path we were now forging.

Another few uneventful, if uneasy, hours passed. I conversed with Fulcinia, Alecto, Guinevere and Lucan as a way of passing the time. Aethel soon came back to us to take Lucan away to rest in the cart. Soon enough, I was the one leaving the carriage for my own rest from my restless thoughts.

As soon as he saw me step out of the carriage, with my bow in hand, Lancelot came riding up. "Had enough or Roman civility?"

"Am I supposed to be amused by that question?" I asked flatly, looking up at the handsome knight. He dismounted from his horse. I had left my furs in the carriage, thinking I would only take a quick walk beside of the carriage. I shivered from when a strong gust of wind whipped snow into my face. "Why are we even going this way? I thought we would stay on the road."

"Tristan had one of his brilliant ideas," Lancelot replied coolly, while he laid his own cloak over my shoulders.

I unintentionally snuggled into the furs. "Where are we even going then?"

"After we pass the wall, we'll rest in a town for a few da-"

"Excellent!" I cut in, rudely. I was dying for an actual bed and good food.

We continued to walk side by side in silence before I asked as casually as I could, "How many more years in the Roman's service must you work?"

"My duty to them has already been fulfilled. We were sent on a mission the day we were to get our discharge papers," he said with a trace of anger in his voice.

I looked down, feeling ashamed to be a Roman at that moment. I forced a smile and looked up at him as he looked down towards me. "Here are your furs," I said quietly as I handed them to him. Our hands brushed for a second. "And I'm sorry." I climbed back into the carriage and looked contently out of the window with my furs resting in my lap.