CHAPTER 7

"Alehouse!"

A cheer emerged from the fatigued convoy as they finally reached the village of Staffordshire. Bors was the first to spot a tavern, his horse trotting to its stables. The rest of the travellers rested their belongings on a small clearing just outside of the cluster of houses.

The travellers all followed Bors to the large tavern, taking in the jovial atmosphere. It was a welcome change from the fatigue, fear and feeling of impending doom upon them. As the weary travellers began to make themselves comfortable, the Saxons were almost forgotten.

Lancelot joined Lourdes, Gawain and Dagonet at a table adjacent to the bar, bringing them all cups of ale. Lancelot raised his glass as he sat. "To us."

A chorus of "ayes" and "hear hears" rang through the group as they all took gulps of the warming liquid. Lourdes closed her eyes at the feeling, waiting for the numbing sensation to take hold of her.

"A dagger game, milady?" She slowly looked up at Lancelot's smiling face, handing her his dagger. She followed his eyes to a circular, wooden board attached to the wall, painted with different colours. "Aim for the red middle mark." Lancelot instructed as he positioned himself in front of the board. With a swift throw, he let go of the dagger, which landed just outside of the red mark.

He motioned for Lourdes to take her turn. She didn't want to admit it to the knight, but she had never done this before! Even after all her training, he had never learned how to throw a dagger.

Lourdes cleared her throat, concentrating as she held up her arm. She bit her lip as she threw the dagger...

...which landed with a clunk on the floor.

Lancelot burst out laughing, doubling over. Lourdes shot him a look, before picking the dagger up once more and repositioning herself at the throwing point. She threw once more.

This time, the dagger just nicked the edge of the board. At least the dagger struck the board and stayed there!

Groaning, Lourdes turned to Lancelot, who was trying his hardest not to laugh out loud. She pushed him lightly in annoyance. Lancelot pulled the dagger out from the wall and handed it to her.

"Let me try something." he smiled, standing behind her. Placing his hands on her eyes, he whispered in her ear. "Now, throw straight, unless you want to hit that bartender right in his eye."

"Lancelot, what are you..."

"Trust me. Now throw."

She bit her lip in nervousness. Hesitating for only another moment, Lourdes finally threw the dagger. As Lancelot burst out in joy and retrieved his hands, Lourdes opened her eyes.

She had hit the red mark, right in the middle!

Lourdes turned around to face Lancelot, her eyes wide.

"H-how...how did I do that!" she exclaimed, laughing.

"You've got a great teacher." stated Lancelot, holding his chin up in mock pride as he placed his hands on his hips.

Lourdes giggled, pushing his chest lightly. Lancelot rested his hands on Lourdes' waist, his laughter dying down to a smile. Lourdes suddenly felt herself blush, noticing the way Lancelot's eyes seemed to pry into hers.

A light thud both made the two turn, seeing that another dagger had landed right on the tip of the hilt of Lourdes' dagger. They searched for the origin of the blade, seeing Galahad standing a few meters from them. The two looked worriedly at each other before looking at the knight, who stalked away from the group and stopped at the bar.

"I shall be back." Lancelot murmured to Lourdes before slowly walking to Galahad's side. Lourdes walked back to the table, where both Gawain and Dagonet were eyeing Galahad and Lancelot's conversation. The tavern was noisy, and Lourdes strained to hear their conversation.

"Finally you have returned."

"I wouldn't have been here if I didn't return to the encampment to find all of my belongings missing."

"Galahad, what has happened is..."

"Do not start, Lancelot. I do not need nor want to hear it."

"You must realize that..."

"I will find and kill whoever did this."

Lancelot only looked at Galahad as the knight placed his cup of ale forcefully on the counter. Taking a deep breath, Galahad stood, turned, then walked out of the tavern, leaving Lancelot to his thoughts. Without a moment of hesitation, Lourdes quickly followed the irate knight, pushing through the crowd as she made her way towards the exit of the tavern.

"Galahad!" she promptly called out, searching for him left and right in the dim moonlight. Music and laughter could still be heard from inside the tavern, somewhat drowning out her voice. She tried once more. "Galahad!"

That was when Lourdes heard the whining of a horse, its trotting footsteps sounding further from the tavern stables. She looked up to see Galahad, riding to their nearby encampment, no doubt about to 'reclaim' his belongings.

As fast as she could, Lourdes ran after him, holding up the hem of her dress. She stopped to catch her breath just as Galahad dismounted, leading his horse to a nearby tent.

"Galahad..." she called more softly, finally gaining his attention.

The knight stopped in his tracks and slowly turned his head to her. "Go away."

Lourdes' countenance showed hurt and confusion, unable to fathom that Galahad could ever be so cold. "W-what is..."

"I said...go away."

Gathering all her courage, Lourdes kept her chin up, striding to stand in front of the knight.

"I am not leaving until I am assured that you are alright." she stated, keeping her face firm as she met his eyes. "When you ran off earlier, I..."

"Tell me," he suddenly loomed over her, eyes burning, "what do you know of Shino?"

Lourdes lost her composure, her eyes growing wide. Galahad walked closer to her, a murderous expression on his face.

"Answer me, woman!" he yelled, startling Lourdes to her core.

Lourdes lost all courage and could not keep eye-contact with him any longer. "I-I..."

He roughly took the sides of her arms, shaking her to face him. "Are you Shinodian!" his tone did not soften. Rather, it only became even angrier.

Poor Lourdes did not know whether she should reveal her true identity to him or not, but she meekly nodded her head. "I...I am."

Galahad quickly pushed her away and screamed in anger. He paced a few steps in front of her, as if not knowing what to do.

"What does it matter?" Lourdes cried out, pain lining her voice. "Why are you acting like so?"

She found Galahad pointing an accusing finger at her before he began bitingly. "It was your people that killed my family. Your raiders that burned my entire village, leaving nobody alive!"

"What?" Taking in the news at hand, Lourdes began to cry, reaching out for him. "N-no, there must be some mistake! Galahad, please listen to me..."

Tears lined the sides of Galahad's face as he lost all his temper. He yelled in anguish before taking off his armour and smashing it to the ground. He ran his hands through his face, trying his best to regain his composure.

"Do not speak of what you do not know of!" he yelled, running his hands through his hair. "Your kind was seen by Roman soldiers galloping swiftly on the road that leads to my village, fleeing the scene."

Then, it was Lourdes' turn to be angry. "How dare you speak so condescendingly of my peoples!" she cried, striding closer to Galahad, facing him. "How dare you blame them after hearing only what other Roman soldiers have said! Were my peopels seen killing anyone, burning anything? Do you base your blame on circumstantial evidence, with no solid proof!"

Galahad was breathing heavily, taking it all in. He did not respond.

"You speak so badly of my people," Lourdes' voice was shaking, and she tried to steady it, "and yet you have no clue what they have truly suffered, what they are currently suffering!" She grabbed the front of Galahad's tunic, holding it tightly as he looked away from her. "And how small-minded are you to generalize what a few have supposedly done? Do you look upon me now as a murderer? Do you also blame me for what has happened?"

With a grunt, Galahad pushed her away, mounting his horse. He kicked its side, sending him off into the dark distance. Lourdes was left there, standing, as tears streamed down her face.

t t t

"Galahad returned a few hours ago."

"Did he? Where had he run off to now?"
"Nobody had seen him since the tavern."

"It's probably best that he keeps to himself for now."

Lourdes tossed and turned in her tent, hearing the voices of Gawain and Dagonet. She tried to hold back the tears threatening to fall from her eyes once more. She still could not believe what had transpired between she and Galahad earlier. Out of all the knights that she had come across, she would not have thought that Galahad would be capable of such acts, such accusations. She felt for his pain, but a part of her carried resentment towards the knight.

"Wait, I think that is him right over there."

"Should we speak with him?"

"Unless we desire to be met by his sword, I think nay."

"He's gone straight to his tent. I guess we'll leave this conversation for the morning."

Lourdes then heard shuffling as Gawain and Dagonet returned to their own tents. The encampment became quieter and quieter as the travellers were claimed by fatigued. Before Lourdes was about to doze off to sleep, she heard the sound of faint voices.

"Dear Sir, what has become of you?" a woman giggled as the footsteps came closer and closer.

"I like to put my hands to good use."

More giggling.

Lourdes immediately recognized the slurring voice to be Lancelot's. She pulled the covers from her body and stuck her head out of her tent. She saw the knight barely able to walk on his own two feet and a woman, a waitress from the tavern that she had seen earlier, wandering aimlessly around the campsite.

"Now...to find where my tent is?" Lancelot said in more of a question, hiccuping as he placed a thoughtful finger on his chin.

"You actually expect me to know?" the waitress wrapped her arms around Lancelot's chest. "Do we really need a tent, my love?"

Lourdes squinted her eyes, clearing her throat. Lancelot barely noticed the noise, eyes still searching for his tent, but the woman looked around, trying to find the noise's origin.

"Over here." Lourdes said flatly, waving her arms lazily. "Now, if you don't mind, I think it is time for the jovial times to end. We need our sleep, you know."

The woman ignored her comment, placing her free hand on her hip. "Do you know where milord's tent is? We do want to find it."

"Unfortunately, I burnt it down this morning." yawning, Lourdes stood from her tent, walking towards the pair devoid of her cloak.

"Lourdes? Lourdes, is that you?" Lancelot then called out, blindly reaching for her. "Ah, it is my wonderful jewel!"

Lourdes rolled her eyes at this, taking Lancelot's right arm and placing it around her back. The waitress gave her a look of annoyance before stopping and taking Lancelot's arm.

"If you do not mind, miss, Sir Lancelot and I would like our time alone."

"Granted." Lourdes shot daggers at her before waving her hand dismissively. "Now run along and spend your alone time back in your home. I shall take this drunken knight from you now, thank you."

"I dare say, you have the nerve..."

"I have more than nerve, wench." spat Lourdes unflinchingly, tilting her head at the visibly annoyed woman. "If you cannot see that Sir Lancelot is in no condition to do...whatever you planned to do...then you must have air for brains."

The woman pouted and crossed her arms, resembling a five-year-old child. "You only want him for yourself, you who-"

"Ah, complete that sentence and you shall have more than a black eye to tend to tomorrow." threatened Lourdes, her face changing to anger then disgust. "And if I want my way with a man, rest assured, he would be sober and fully aware of his actions."

With this, the woman stomped off, leaving the almost sleeping Lancelot on, literally, Lourdes' shoulders.

"C'mon, just a few more steps." grunting, Lourdes used all her strength to bring the mumbling oaf to his tent. Just as they entered, she tripped on his sac. Cursing, she felt herself lose her balance, with Lancelot following her to the ground. She braced herself as the knight fell on top of her with a grunt.

"Lancelot! Off, sir!" Lourdes struggled with all her might to push the knight from her. "I can barely breathe with you on top of me!"

"Oh, do not pretend that you do not like it." Lancelot sounded, still slurring his words a little as his lips pulled to a smile. "Your little speech outside was simply hilarious. I do wish to see you act so protective over me again."

"P-protective? Over you?" Lourdes gave out a short laugh, patting his head. "The ale has truly gotten to your head, dear sir."

Lancelot blinked twice, propping himself up on his two hands, one arm on either side of Lourdes' body. "I'm fine now. I think."

"I'm glad." Lourdes gave him a mock smile. "Now, when do you plan to get off of me? Sometime soon, I hope?"

"I kind of like this position." he shrugged gave her a childish grin, lowering his face closer to hers. "Don't you?"

"I..." Lourdes stopped what she was saying as she felt Lancelot's lips graze the side of her neck. His breaths were warm and deep, his beard tickling the side of her face.

"Stay with me." he whispered in her ear, running his fingers through her hair. He looked over her once more, then smiled.

"I see." Offended, Lourdes pushed him back, sitting up. "Just because your little waitress called it a night, you see the need of finding a replacement?"

"If I do remember correctly - which I do - you scared my waitress away with your little speech." Lancelot raised an eyebrow, meaning to rile her. "Hence, I do find it fitting to find a replacement."

Lourdes shoved Lancelot once more, causing him to chuckle loudly. Lancelot took the sides of her arms lightly, and in the dim light, their eyes met. "I was merely jesting, milady, no need to take offence."

"Well, I find your jokes crude and...unchivalrous!" Lourdes cried out, pulling from his grip. Her boiling anger rose. "If you only think of me as a cheap whore, then..."

"That is not what I think of you." Suddenly, Lancelot grew serious, his dark eyes looking at Lourdes' alternatively. "In truth, I think so much more of you."

Lourdes was not convinced, squinting her eyes. "I suppose this is part of your speech as well? Your loose tongue will not affect me, sir."

"This is no speech." Lancelot exhaled deeply, suddenly looking a bit nervous. "Tis the truth."

Lourdes tore away from his strong gaze. Was it just the ale speaking? Or was the knight actually admitting the truth?

Lancelot cleared his throat, trying to change the subject. "But milady, I do thank you for preventing something I would have eventually regretted. The power of the ale had subdued me for a while there."

"The ale's power is to reveal the subconscious." replied Lourdes knowingly, regaining her calm disposition. "Maybe tis subtly saying that it is time to take a wife and finally settle down, away from the confines of being a knight, away from the gruesome nature of war."

Lancelot heaved out a sigh, using his elbows to prop himself up as he laid beside Lourdes. "I do feel that way. Very much."

Lourdes placed a comforting hand on the side of his arm. "You almost have that freedom, Lancelot."

"Almost." Lancelot turned to her with a small smile. Reaching out, he took her hand to his mouth and kissed it gently. Without warning, Lourdes leaned forward, bestowing a slow kiss upon his cheek. It was Lancelot's turn to be stunned, his body stiffening at her lips' touch. Lourdes held her face close to Lancelot's, as if frozen, surprised at her own actions. Lancelot slowly smiled, cupping her face in his hands. Without hesitation, he took her lips in his, not gentle, not forceful, enjoying the sensation that it gave him. Lourdes tasted a tint of ale in his breath, but that was all but forgotten as his tongue entered her mouth, teasing her own. She gasped as she felt his hand creeping up her leg to rest at her thigh. Lancelot did not halt the assault on her senses, his kiss deepening as every moment passed by.

As Lourdes tilted her head back automatically, Lancelot turned his attention to her neck, his lips trailing lower, gently licking, biting. Lourdes bit her lip in pleasure, never having experienced such sensations in her lifetime. The only contact with men that she had had, really, was while practicing the art of war and on the battlefield! She had never thought that this type of contact with men would be so...intoxicating. She had felt attraction to men, no doubt, but she had been so sheltered from such experiences by her parents and too occupied with other matters and tasks that men were always far from her mind.

Until now.

She ran her fingers through Lancelot's dark, curly hair, then traced the sides of his face, feeling his strong features. His presence was comforting, the heat from his body radiating. His hands traced the sides of her body, and even through her clothing, she felt the trail of fire emanating from his fingers. She moved under him, positioning herself so that they both would be more comfortable. Who knew that the man who she always bickered with and desperately sought to injure on numerous occasions would be the man that she would actually be so intimate with?

Lourdes would have been in a full state of euphoria if it wasn't for something that continued to plague her mind. She closed her eyes, trying to block out the thoughts - but it was of no use. There was a stabbing in her conscience, a flicker of memory passing through her. She cursed to herself, pulling Lancelot even closer to her, hoping that his presence would drive her thoughts away. It seemed like the more she fought it, the more prevalent it became.

Galahad.

Her eyes opened wide, remembering the flame in the knight's eyes, the pain in his cries. He was so hurt, so angry. And what was worse that he blamed her people. She felt as though every time he would see her, look at her, he will be reminded about the accusations against Shinodians. She knew that she had to find out the truth, to put his conscience - and hers - at rest.

"What is the matter?"

Lancelot's concerned voice brought her back to reality. He looked down upon her, his hand gently trailing the side of her face. They kept their eyes on one another for a few moments until Lourdes broke his hold on her.

"I must bid you good night, Sir Lancelot." croaked Lourdes, slowly sitting up. "I am afraid my mind is not at peace."

Furrowing his brows in confusion, Lancelot helped her out of the tent. The passion in his eyes continued to flare, and Lourdes could see the mixed feelings that the knight felt. He did not speak. Smiling in half apology, half reassurance, Lourdes kissed him lightly on the cheek before returning to her tent. She looked up at the knight once more, smiling, before walking inside.

t t t

A/N: And so ends my "teaser" for this story! So, PLEASE review and let me know what you think so far! How do you like the love triangle between Lourdes, Galahad and Lancelot? More importantly, WHO DO YOU THINK SHE SHOULD BE WITH:P (To tell you the truth, even I haven't decided yet!) I will keep writing more situations, dilemmas and of course, sweet scenes between them, and I guess whenever I run out of ideas, we'll find out! ) Don't worry, there's already more to come, and I will update soon!