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.

Warning: This chapter is violent and is altogether adult. Please, if you are not old enough to read this, do not read this. Please.

Author's note: This has been one of the most enjoyable stories to write that I've ever written. And the very best part has been the readers. Thank you to everyone for the wonderful reviews and for the inspiration your comments has provided. As before, responses to my wonderful reviewers is at the end.

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VISIONS OF DEATH

Chapter Thirteen: Crone

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Brigid memorized the bark of the oak tree before her eyes, sweat dripping down her forehead and her nose as she waited for Alaisiagae's next move. The old seer had an assistant, an obviously not so bright but very burly young man, who had tied her to the tree and then returned to his task of guarding his mistress.

Alaisiagae had not even bothered to rip the gown down the back, instead snapping the Roman bullwhip across the clearing to tear into Brigid's back. After a dozen lashes the old woman was exhausted and dropped the whip to the forest floor. Now a dozen ragged stripes crisscrossed her back over older marks, the wool gown shredded and embedded in her back.

"Why do you not cry?" demanded Alaisiagae as she stormed to the side of her captive. "What will it take to wring tears from you, whore?" she asked, gripping Brigid's chin in her hand.

Brigid pulled back and bared her teeth in a snarl. It had been years since the old woman had been a friend to her, her golden eyes warm and loving. Now the same woman who had whispered fairy tales was standing before her, determined to break the healer. Throat raw from screaming, she smirked. "Alaisiagae, you will have to do better than this," she warned, nodding to the abandoned whip. "The Romans are better at this than you."

Alaisiagae let loose a fist, slamming it into Brigid's cheek and thereby slamming Brigid's head into the tree. The healer slumped momentarily, the wounds on her back stretching painfully. "You are not worth the mud on my shoes, whore. You took the only two people worthy of surviving." She waited, watching as Brigid slowly regained consciousness. "Why didn't you save my brother?"

Brigid frowned and shook her head. She had to get through to this once-kind woman. "You of all people should know the answer. Your mind is clouded by grief. Let it go."

Another thrown fist, this time into her ribs and Brigid grunted in pain. "You turned your back on your destiny to spread your legs for a Sarmatian slave. You are nothing more than a prostitute. I should let the boy use you."

Brigid straightened, her feet finding purchase on the forest floor. She looked over her shoulder at the old woman with a dangerous glitter in her grey eyes. "Let your servant enjoy me. And I will turn him against you."

A flicker of doubt passed through Alaisiagae's eyes. Was this the frightened slip of a girl who had clung to the skirts of the older priestesses to hide from her during Alaisiagae's visits to Ynys Môn those long years ago? The girl had changed into a woman who seemed to spit flame with each jibe. "I would never allow it."

Brigid sneered at her onetime friend. "You are old and withered, Alaisiagae. He is young and vital. I doubt he wishes to plow your furrow, crone." She forced strength into her voice even as she felt blood seeping from the slashes on her back. Shock, blood loss or exposure would kill her if Alaisiagae did not hurry.

Alaisiagae frowned and looked towards the direction the boy had gone. "We'll see, whore."

Brigid let out a breath when Alaisiagae went in search of the boy. Everything hurt. She looked up, starting when she saw a man bathed in blue looking down at her. The man in the tree rested his finger against his lips, silencing her cry of surprise. Brigid nodded and rested her cheek against the bark of the tree, willing to bide her time.

Alaisiagae reappeared moments later, a flustered boy's arm gripped in an iron vise. "Whore!" she shrieked at Brigid.

Brigid turned slowly until she faced the woman, her rent back painfully pressed to the bark if only to remain conscious. "Declined her, eh?" she asked the boy. "Alaisiagae, you asked my why I did not save Cerdic or Cyrnic. I did not save them because they could not be saved. Not if I was to do as I was tasked."

Alaisiagae dropped the boy's arm and stepped forward. "What was your task?" she breathed harshly.

Brigid turned her head from the filthy breath. "Saxon hordes are at the door. My work was to stop them."

Alaisiagae reached forward, fingers wrapping around Brigid's throat. The healer looked on the old woman with pity even as her vision began to blacken at the edges. Alaisiagae had been a good woman. The healer could only wonder what she herself would do if all she loved was taken away from her.

Fingers tightened then loosened as an arrow whistled across the clearing. Brigid felt Alaisiagae fall away from her and opened her eyes to look down into the old woman's now vacant gaze. Looking up, she found Gueneviere looking at her across the clearing.

A sob burst from her lips and Brigid sagged against the ropes hanging her wrists from the tree. Tears poured down her cheeks as she stared at the old woman who had lost so much.

The rope around her wrists was cut and she sagged to the forest floor, her palms falling flat on the dirt.

"Vanora?" she asked hoarsely, looking up to Gueneviere who had crossed to her.

Gueneviere shook her head. "Unconscious when I left." She looked to the dead woman's body and the boy who had fallen soon after, an arrow piercing his throat.

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Gueneviere stood at the doorway to the healing rooms, watching as Fulcina carefully changed the dressings on Brigid's back. Vanora had recovered quickly from the attack by the Saxon witch and was tending to Lucan until Brigid was released from Fulcina's care.

The Hibernian healer was an exceptionally bad patient.

Brigid huffed and looked over her shoulder at Fulcina, trying not to stretch her back. The Roman woman was incredibly patient and Brigid knew that she was stretching that patience very thin. To be honest, Brigid would have foregone Fulcina's care save for the fact that she's fainted on the way back to the fortress and therefore had no choice in being carried to the healing rooms.

Gueneviere stifled a chuckle as Brigid struggled up to a sitting position. The whipping had left her back a bloody mess, but it would heal. Honey had been smeared on the flesh to kill infection and bandages covered her torso from hip to shoulder.

Brigid huffed and sat still as Fulcina dropped a thin shift over her shoulders and let the linen puddle around the healer's hips. "Can I go now?" Brigid asked testily.

Fulcina shook her head and pushed on Brigid's shoulder, indicating that she should lie down again. Brigid laid on her stomach, grimacing as a sheet was pulled up to her waist.

She heard a rustle and watched as Gueneviere lowered herself into the chair beside the bed. "How are you feeling?" asked Gueneviere.

Brigid ground her teeth. "Fine."

Gueneviere nodded. She didn't believe her friend but then she knew that it had been a long several days for the healer. First to find that her friend and employer had been kidnapped. Then to be tortured by an old friend. Finally to watch that friend drop to the forest floor, an arrow piercing her throat, and know that she couldn't have changed any of it.

The argument about Brigid heading off alone without telling anyone where she was going would come later. Vanora and she had been lucky--the only ones to die had been Saxons. The woman who had kidnapped Vanora and tortured Brigid was dead, her ashes scattered to the four winds. Her minion, a brawny man with less intelligence than muscle, had fallen before Alaisiagae, relieving her of the support of her man. His body had been buried in the ground near where he fell.

Thankfully the men were still on patrol and Gueneviere was silently thankful that Dagonet and Bors had not been at the fortress when Vanora fell unconscious and it was discovered that Brigid was missing. A message had not been sent recalling the men, the decision left to Vanora and Brigid, the women deciding independently that the patrol was more important than having their men come home and hold their hands.

Brigid especially had not wanted to summon Dagonet back early, needing time to wrap her mind around the information that Alaisiagae had tried to hurt her with. Alaisiagae had had a gift for sensing new life, one that she had once used in her healing, and the old woman was never wrong about that.

"Brigid?" came the rich voice of Vanora from the doorway.

Brigid smiled, opening her eyes. Gueneviere had left, indicating that quite probably Brigid had fallen asleep. Vanora looked tired. "Come sit, Vanora," the healer instructed, pushing herself up from the cot, biting her bottom lip as her back stretched.

Vanora did as instructed and dropped into the chair that Gueneviere had vacated. "One had a talk with Lucan," she advised, looking exhausted. "I believe the boy might think his life in danger."

Brigid laughed, wincing as her wounds pulled. "Is it?"

Vanora shrugged, twisting the fabric of her skirt in her fingers. "If One finds him with Three, it might be."

"What is wrong?" asked Brigid, winded as she finally got herself upright and noticing Vanora's obvious discomfort.

Vanora looked up, unshed tears filling her eyes. "I left you with that thing."

Brigid smiled and reached for the older woman, pulling her into her arms. "Vanora, if you had stayed you would have been killed," she whispered. "Then what would I have done? Bors would have killed me."

Vanora giggled and rubbed her nose against her sleeve. "He wouldn't dare. Dagonet would kill him," she joked.

Brigid chuckled darkly.

TBC….

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To My Wonderful Reviewers:

homeric: Yup, cliffhangers 'r us is my middle name. Well, not really. But I'm glad that you are enjoying. Alaisiagae is a truly nasty piece of work, I agree. And I'm glad that you are enjoying Lucan and Three. As my husband noted, Brigid doesn't seem to want Lucan to become another Lancelot.

BleedingTwilight: Yay! I'm so glad that you're finding it interesting. And as long as my muses keep bribing me, I'll keep writing this. And don't worry, it just keeps churning out of my fetid brain so I won't leave you hanging long.

Saxongirl1345: Yay! Thank you for letting me know you're enjoying. Can't promise that nothing bad will happen since my muses are having way too much fun. And here's another chapter.

shariena: Thank you for the wonderful review. I'm glad you're still enjoying. As requested, the next chapter. The next chapter may take a few days since I'm back to work on Monday.

Anime Princess: I'm so glad that you're enjoying. And I'm of the opinion that anyone who bears 11 children has to have a great deal of courage. I'm so glad that you're enjoying. I hope that this chapter doesn't disappoint.

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