Chapter 19:
She awoke in the softest bed she'd been in for a long while. Dazed and confused, the slight turn of her head sent a sharp pain up her neck. She moved her hands, feeling the soft sheets that were covering her body.
"My Lady! You're awake! Oh Dominus will be so pleased!"
The high-pitched girl squealed in excitement, causing her to squint her eyes shut once more.
"Wh-what are you talking about?" she answered in a rough whisper, surprised that her voice sounded broken and coarse.
"You fell off your horse, Domina. Don't you remember? The entire household has been worried sick! You had insisted in riding the wild beast they captured, and it knocked you to the ground cold. You've been sleeping for weeks Domina...Oh, Dominus will be so happy!"
I don't remember being the mistress of a household, Isolde thought to herself.
The servant girl quickly left her chambers, leaving Isolde alone. Slowly adjusting her eyes, she scanned the room and its belongings that looked foreign to her. She pulled herself up, and after a few shaky and uneasy steps, got out of bed and walked towards the balcony, which looked over the forum.
"I know this place," she said out loud.
"You should," a voice interrupted her. "This is your home."
She turned around and saw Marcus in his full Roman armour standing in the threshold. Surprised, she opened her mouth to respond, but found that her voice had failed.
"Don't stress yourself too much, my love. You've only just woken up. Come, let's get you back into bed, shall we? You know, you've had me worry sick. Never scare me like that again. I can't bear losing you."
Isolde furrowed her brows, trying to remember why Marcus would suddenly become so familiar with her. "Where is my sword?" she asked, careful not to strain her voice.
He gave out a low chuckle. "What a silly question, Isolde. Why would you need a sword?"
"Where is my sword?" she asked once again.
"You don't have one anymore Isolde. You gave it to Titus, don't you remember? You've no need for one anymore. You're the lady of this household and my wife. What kind of husband would I be, letting his wife defend herself?"
The words stung her like a thousand daggers through her body, and felt herself collapsing to the floor. Lady? Domina? Wife? A hundred questions were going through her mind, with no answers to satisfy her confused mind. She looked at Marcus as if he was a stranger, digging through her memories, but found nothing to suggest that they were familiar with each other. She was sure that he was just her commander and nothing more. But she faintly smiled, trying to convince herself otherwise.
"I think I just need to rest," she said unconvincingly.
He held her up by her waist, and brought her back to her bed. Pulling the covers up once more over her, he leaned down and placed a kiss on her forehead before leaving the room for Isolde's privacy.
Finding the sudden energy within her, she leapt out of bed and began sifting through the desk and wardrobe, trying to look for anything that could give her some answers. But she found nothing useful. Isolde grew frantic as time pressed on and she felt more and more confused.
"Isolde," a voice called out.
She turned around, but no one was there. The voice called out again, again and again, each time louder than the last and each time more sinister than before.
"Isolde!"
She turned around, and found him sitting in her chaise. He looked out of place, with his blue skin and tattered clothes against the backdrop of a Roman household. His face was worn and tired, but still vivid of the markings of his tribesmen.
"I...I know you," she began slowly. "You're not from here."
"Yes, you know me. I am Merlin of Briton," he said quietly.
The words sent flashes of blue and yellow colours, and swords clashing with one another in her mind. She saw a great wall that spanned for miles in a green mountainous landscape. She saw several men with their horses, crying out their war cry atop of a hill, before charging down for battle. She saw herself in a room filled with flowers and herbs, with an older woman. She saw herself fighting and kissing another man against a stone wall.
It all came back to her at the mention of one word: Briton.
"What is this place?" she asked the woad, suddenly feeling an eerie presence around her.
"Tis a passing of time," he began slowly. "You are in between the world of living and dead, and in between of what have come to pass and what has yet to come. Presently, you are in Rome, as the lady of your husband's household, as it would seem."
"What do you mean? Where's Arthur? Where's Alecto...my men?"
"Shh…calm down child. Rest assure, this is not your reality yet. This is only one of many possibilities of what the gods bring you in the near future. Whether you choose to believe in it, but more importantly, whether you choose to accept it is another issue."
A sharp pain on her side sent her crashing to her floor. Grasping her abdomen, she felt the cold red liquid seeping through her fingers, and found herself struggling to breathe once more.
"Pl..plea..please. I don't understand," she struggled.
The woad looked onto her helplessly. "The gods will test you Isolde and you must be prepared. They will not be fair to you in your journey in the great war that has yet to come."
"I was ready to die there," she whispered.
"Death is not your fate just yet."
"Death is always the victor," she murmered, her eyes feeling heavy and her breaths slowing down. The woad, which now stood above her, became blurred, and his voice slurred as she began to lose consciousness again.
"Persevere Isolde, and fight like you've never fought before. This war will require all your strength and courage…for his sake and Arthur's."
And the world went black once more.
A load groan escaped her lips, and her body began shaking. Immediately at her side, Maximus picked up the cloth that had fell to the ground and placed it back on her forehead. Isolde had lost a lot of blood and for a moment, he thought that the bleeding couldn't be stopped. He was eternally grateful for the healer that he brought back from one of the villages who had volunteered her services to heal the Sarmatian soldier in exchange for passage to Gaul. The woman, after hours of trying to stop the blood and seal Isolde's wounds had warned Maximus that if Isolde did not break her fever by the morning, she would eventually die. Maximus hadn't left her side since, choosing to stay in the cramped wagon that was now headed to back to Rome after a number of death threats from the bishop.
The last few hours had been an emotional journey for him. He put his face to his hands, recalling the moment they had arrived to Badon Hill to aid Arthur.
It wasn't difficult to guess where Alecto and his mother would be hiding. As Isolde predicted, he found them hiding in the Great Hall along with the elderly, the women and the children. They were lucky they had not met a large resistance once inside the fort as Arthur's page, Jols, had set up a defense line outside. Deciding it was better for the boy to remain in the Great Hall until the battle was well over; Maximus rejoined with Jols and side by side, defended the fort and its people. When word spread out that Arthur had killed off their leader, the remaining Saxons were quick to surrender and in a split second, the Britons had won back their homeland.
Almost immediately, Maximus ran back to the Great Hall to spread news of their victory. Everybody quickly filed out, rushing to find if their husbands and fathers had perished in battle.
"Is it truly over?" ask Alecto.
"Yes, my lord. Didn't take much for the Saxons to surrender once they found out that their leader was dead," he replied.
"What happens now? Where is Isolde?"
He hadn't thought that anything terrible would happen to her. He knew she was a formidable opponent in battle; he had seen her fight before. But the question made his blood uneasy. "We'll find her, don't worry. We'll make sure she's okay and Arthur too. But we cannot stay long. The Bishop is waiting for you in the next village. He…wasn't pleased when he found out you had remained here. I'd reckon he'd have a few words with you."
"I am not afraid of him," Alecto stated.
Maximus gave him a stern smile. "I wish I had your courage then."
Walking out to the field, hundreds, if not thousands of bodies laid across the now bloodied grass. The sight made Alecto's mother gasp as she closed her eyes and whispered a silent prayer to herself. The remaining woads and villagers were now scanning amongst the dead for survivors, and Maximus could not help but do the same. His eyes went from body to body, looking for his friend and her knights.
"Do you see her?" he called out to no one in particular. "Isolde! Isolde! Where are you?"
He yelled and yelled again, hoping she would rise from the ground and make some remark that always made him laugh.
But what he found wiped the smile off his face. He spotted the knights not a hundred feet away from him, huddle together and staring at the ground. He didn't see Isolde among those who were standing, and he immediately ran towards them paying careful attention not to step on the lying dead.
"Isolde!" he called out again.
The one he recognized as Gawain turned to him, and Maximus noted his eyes were glassy with tears. No words were needed to be spoken, as he followed his gaze and saw her still body lying on the ground.
"Is..she..," he began, fearing the worst.
"Barely alive," Arthur said solemnly. "If it wasn't for Tristan, she'd be dead."
His gaze led to another body not three feet away from where he stood, and looked at the wild knight who also lied still on the ground. He took a huge gulp. "Is he..," he also dared to ask.
"They both lie on the brink of death; Lancelot as well. He took two arrows to the chest," Arthur whispered. "If only I had gotten to them sooner, they would still be alive. I should have been there for Lancelot too."
"Don't go blaming yourself Arthur," Galahad said sadly.
"We need a healer," Maximus declared. "We must stop the bleeding."
Frantically turning around, he scanned for anybody that could help them, but didn't know who to look for. But what he found was something far worse than he'd imagine.
A scouting party was marching towards them, with Alecto and his mother in tow. He narrowed his eyes at the sight of the banner. Germanius.
"Legionarris," their leader stated. "We've been ordered to bring back the boy and his mother as well as you and the Sarmatian girl immediately."
It was Bors who now erupted behind his tears. "Well, as you can see Roman, she's in no condition to travel. She's hurt, she may die and she needs a healer. Tell your damn bishop he can wait a little longer."
"Orders and orders, sir. We're to bring her back alive..or dead," he coolly stated. His hands went on the hilt of his sword, as if he was ready to fight.
"You dare raise your sword against us?" Bors challenged.
"I have my orders," he stated.
"Piss on your orders! I'll kill every one of you before you lay a hand on her!"
He unsheathed his sword, causing every other soldier to follow suit. Maximus, doing the same unconsciously stepped in front of Isolde's body. Even though they were not old friends, she had quickly become one of his best friends. She had opened his eyes to the injustice of Rome, and its corruption. She had inspired him to be a soldier for justice, rather than a soldier of Rome. He knew he couldn't go back to Rome without her - things just wouldn't be the same.
It was Arthur who put his hand on Bors' forearm, silently telling him to drop it. "Enough blood has been shed for one day Bors. We don't have the time to waste on these men."
He turned to their scout leader. "I'll let you take Alecto and his mother back to Bishop Germanius. As for Isolde, you better secure a healer and a wagon for her, or I swear to you I will hunt you down and kill you myself before you step off this island."
"I'll make sure she's well taken care of," interjected Maximus. "And I'd like nothing more than to rip out this man's throat should she die while she's in his care."
The Roman gulped, unsure whether if these threats were serious. But he knew better than to argue. He nodded to one of his men, and a group of them immediately ran to the wall looking for a wagon and a healer.
Arthur turned to Maximus, "Make sure she lives."
"Make sure he lives," Maximus replied, his eyes gazing down his body. "What will we tell them should they wake up? That fate has tore them apart once more? That the other may not live?"
"We tell them to live, and to cling onto the hope that they will be reunited one day," he said sadly.