Disclaimer: yeah yeah… I own nothing… still!

STALKED

Cedric hadn't sent Ardiath out. Maybe he was cold. Maybe it was because of his nightmares? Cedric had nightmares! Ardiath knew this because as she lay there he was twitching! And moaning. Pathetic little cries that you may hear from a wounded animal or a small child. Ardiath didn't feel any pity. Her icy eyes narrowed in the dark. She couldn't understand why she was here. He hadn't used her body… hadn't even remotely wanted it and yet here she lay.

She tried not to think about Joachim. Alone with Cynric. Fighting!

The next morning was frigid. Like it always was. The mist was heavy this morning and it burdened Ardiath. They were marching. Marching and following Cynric. Ardiath could hear the drums. Beating like her frantic heart. It was fluttering because she of all people knew what those drums meant. They were coming! The Saxons they were coming… to kill us all the children and the elderly on men and her parents. Before Ardiath would have cried at the memory now she fought on, squashed between two huge hairy and filthy soldiers, besides… the tears would just freeze any way.

They were getting closer. To the knights… and Tristan. He was going to save them. Arthur would forgive Joachim for fleeing and they would be free of the Saxon's. And Ardiath could heal. She could learn to love again, to feel again. The very concept made Ardiath's heart swell. A ghost of an emotion so long ago lost.

They stopped and suddenly. Cedric had his hand in the air. They had barely been marching for three hours.

"We camp here!" He said roughly before stalking off. Ardiath watched the man go in despair. They would never catch Joachim if they rested. She shrugged off her pack and ran after him. Growing in boldness at the thought of not seeing Joachim that night. Hearing about Tristan.

"We have to keep moving," Ardiath told him urgently.

Cedric turned to see who dared challenge him.

"I once told Cynric if he wanted to challenge me he better have a sword in his hand. The same goes for you," He drawled. He went to walk away. Ardiath ran in front of him blocking his way. Inside he was questioning her insistence. Outside he scowled.

"We will never catch up if we stop and camp here. What's more, what is your reasoning for it? We've only been moving for three hours. You haven't gone soft on us so I would like to know the reason."

Cedric crossed his arms and exhibited more patience than he ever had in his life, "What do you know about battle tactics, Ardiath?"

"Nothing, but-"

"I do. And I can tell you if we camp here it will not be long before we see my son and your husband again."

Ardiath opened her mouth to argue again but Cedric held up one finger to silence her. Then he walked away. Ardiath watched him go. She had never really questioned Cedric's motives before. What drove him to do all these murderous deeds? Was it power? Or profit? She had never wanted to know but for the first time she wondered. Wanted to understand what was inside Cedric's head.

When he was out of sight she carefully unwrapped the bandages on her arm. Tristan! There, branded onto her skin, was the man she hoped would be her savior.

"Please do not let me disappointed," She prayed to anyone who would listen, "Please let him be what I hoped."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Tristan saw his brother at the same time Joachim noted him.

Very few things took the scout of guard but this was one of those rare moments where he was shocked. It explained so much though. The nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach. A recognition.

That recognition was curling into disgust. His brother had deserted Arthur but now he was with the Saxons. Leading them to him. All those years people had slandered his brother. Called him all names. Deserter, conspirator and betrayer. He had ignored those words. Let them roll of him like water. Now those words clung to his skin and hurt his heart. His brother had betrayed him. He was a traitor.

Joachim felt like he could see right into Tristan's eyes. His blue eyes meeting his brothers darker ones. Their faces so close. Tristan's prominent cheekbones and Joachim's gaunt face. Only their hair was similar. Proved they were related. But Tristan had braided it. He had gone primal. He had a feral glint in his eye contrasting his stoic face. And Joachim could feel the disappointment. The anger and the sorrow. He could see the other knights too but they wouldn't recognise him.

Ardiath had put all her hope in his brother. Joachim realised that he too had held a tiny flame that his brother would forgive and rescue them. His brother didn't understand. Tristan trusted his eyes, he knew words lied. He would kill Joachim before they got into earshot. Joachim closed his eyes and accepted that and then the battle begun.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The fires burnt bright. Ardiath panted at the red-hot pain of the knife across her flesh. She saw her smooth skin and pictured Cedric's throat. It made her push harder. Much too hard. There was too much blood coming from the wound in her arm.

She could hear noises. They were back. With no time to hide her bleeding arm she wrapped a messy bandage around her arm and pulled on the coat. She walked outside expecting to hear boisterous welcome homes but there were only confused murmurings.

She approached the fire. Cedric sat there with a few men in front of him. Cedric and Joachim were two of them. She was ecstatic and made as if to run over to him but he saw her and subtly shook his head. Ardiath was beginning to comprehend what had happened. The scarce men standing before Cedric were what remained of the raiding party. Ardiath placed her hand over her mouth. Joachim had told her there were only a few knights. How had they massacred that whole Saxon strike force?

Ardiath gasped as Cedric suddenly lunged forward and dragged the knife down Cynric's face. There was silence in the camp and she heard Cedric inform them all,

"I have no son."

Cynric screwed up his face and breathed harder before lashing out and stabbing the closest man in the gut. Joachim winced, next time it could be him. Cynric stormed off. Ardiath didn't think he would call her tonight. He wouldn't want her to see his shame up close. Maybe tomorrow. Joachim broke away from the group and walked over to Ardiath.

She held out her hands to him. He took them and buried his face in them. They were so soft and small and innocent.

"What happened?" Ardiath felt tears on her palm.

"Dagonet. He sacrificed himself," Joachim whispered, his head still between her hands.

"Tell me about him," Ardiath encouraged soothingly.

"He was so big but incredibly gentle. If anyone would have forgiven men for running away it was him," Joachim said quietly.

"You did not run away," Ardiath tried to convince him.

"I ran away," He cut her off violently, "And because I ran away Dagonet's dead. One of my friends is dead."

"Because you ran away I am alive," Ardiath said shortly.

"And for that I am forever grateful," Joachim's eyes were filled with genuine love. Ardiath's own blue eyes seemed to soften. Joachim stifled a yawn.

"Go lie down," Ardiath instructed kindly.

"Come. I will sleep better with you in my arms," Joachim made to lead her away but Ardiath stayed still.

"I will be in a few moments," Ardiath assured him. Joachim nodded, trusting his wife, and left. Ardiath hurried to the outskirt of the camp. She pulled off the coat and pulled away the bandages. There was some snow. She used that to carefully clean away the blood on her arm. There had been much too much blood. She was going to have to be more carefully.

Ardiath froze. She could feel a presence. Hastily she wound the bandage around her arm again. She pulled her coat of the ground and searched the tree's some one was in there. Watching her. Ardiath was frightened.

Tristan watched the girl with raven hair and blue eyes. The army whore. There was always one woman willing to latch herself on to a group of fighting men for a crust and a bed. Tristan had had his own experience with them but never his enjoyment. That was not his taste.

He had watched fascinated as the woman removed a bloodstained bandage and revealed a cut up arm. She rubbed snow over the wound. The snow fell to the ground, tinted red in the dark. The moon illuminated it. He could almost smell the copper tang. The cuts. From a distance he could see the silver sliver of scars traveling across her skin. Tristan began to doubt whether she was a willing whore after all. He could swoop down right now and save her. Be her savior if you could ever apply such grand a word to the humble scout.

Her eyes were up and searching the trees. She was aware of him. Tristan was about to move. He could get her away. She would be safe at the fort. No more trouble. He took a step forward when he saw movement. Someone was coming toward the woman. Tristan reached for his bow. He could dispatch the man easily. She wouldn't scream. Somehow he just knew she would not. He drew the arrow back and was waiting to let it fly.

He lowered the bow. His brother came out of the dark and put his hand on her hip. She didn't push it away but smiled. He could hear what they were saying.

"I was worried about," Joachim whispered.

"You shouldn't worry about me," The dark haired woman murmured back.

"It's what husbands do. Now are you ready for sleep. The bed felt empty with out you."

The woman smiled and followed his brother; her husband, away but she sent one look back. Confused and curious, searching the trees still. Tristan moved further back. Back into the shadows and then she was gone. His brother suddenly didn't seem so corrupt now Tristan had seen what he was fighting for.

But love was a complicated emotion and Tristan was not going to let love for his brother cloud his judgment. If Joachim had to die to save Arthur and Lancelot, Bors, Gawain or Galahad... Then he would. Maybe if Joachim had died earlier Dagonet would still be alive. As he disappeared into the night he had no way of knowing his brother was thinking exactly the same thing. And because Tristan did not know he did what came naturally.

Ardiath slept well. She hadn't expected to after feeling that presence in the woods. But, though it might sound peculiar, she had felt no ill will or malice towards her. And so she had slept. Safe in her husbands warm arms. And then dawn broke.

There were shouts. Ardiath and Joachim scrambled out of the bed, hastily pulling on clothes. The first thought was the camp was under attack. The followed the shouts till the centre. Cedric, Cynric and the rest of the men crowded around a large pile of bodies. The sentries from last night watch. Ardiath Felt sick. The faces were blue and had expressions of horror.

Joachim was pale and white. He looked like had seen a ghost. Cedric was barking orders to have the woods searched. Cynric was as well. The men dispersed. The leaders of the Saxon army didn't even spare a look for the aghast pair.

Joachim knew what had happened. He knew the minute he saw the bodies. It was a wonder he was not dead as well. Maybe Tristan had stayed his hand in pity; perhaps he sought to torment his mind and heart. Maybe Tristan had seen a woman that depended on Joachim but that thought didn't cross the younger scouts head.

When the crowd dispersed Ardiath moved forward to see. She felt a morbid interest in the piled bodies, with their staring eyes and cold lips. They were just lying there. The blood covered their chest and was heavy. Not like the light trickles that flowed from her arm. Their clothes were sodden.

She reached a hand forward to touch their faces. It was cold and rough under her fingertips and she let them glide across his facial features. Dancing across the dead mans face. Joachim was shocked and snatched his wife's hand back from the bodies.

He saw something he hadn't seen before. There was a bloody T carved into each corpse's forehead. He stepped back rashly.

"Traitor," He rasped to himself forgetting about Ardiath.

"What?" She turned to him.

His eyes met hers and not really seeing he corrected himself, "Tristan."

"This is the work of Tristan?" Excitement crept into Ardiath's eyes. Had her prayers been answered?

Joachim nodded slowly, "I saw him. Down on the lake."

"You didn't tell me?" She demanded.

"I forgot," Joachim stuttered out weakly. Ardiath look like she would have made an issue about it but instead she impulsively hugged Joachim and kissed him.

"He was here. He hasn't forgotten about you," Ardiath was ecstatic.

Joachim turned a worried head towards the bodies, "No… no he hasn't!"

AN: I'm back baby! I'm back! I have this whole stream of ideas. It's crazy… set of by… would you believe it… Dark Angel. I'm about to start that fic so if you're interested I suggest you mosy on over! I'm also writing a Buffy fic and it made me appreciate my KA reviews because you guys rock as reviewers. I get two reviewers on my Buffy story but there are thousands of fanfics over there. It's really humbled me and made me work harder and try and be a better writer. But I'm dying for a chapter to get reviewed by more than five people… Then I was cleaning out my room and found my traitor story plan and I was like hey… I like Ardiath…. She is one kick ass character and it's such an intense story line. Well people… big favour to ask you all… Review please review! Even just to say howdy and you couldn't give a crap about my story because I was a KA writer first and forever. My way of life may be update soon but there are all these pesky exams that happen round this time.

Love you all

MD666