A/N – Apologies for being later at getting this posted than planned. Personal problems along with the stress of uni meant I either had no time or no inspiration to get this chapter up. However I have finally completed it! One of my longer ones but I don't think it's my best. I have rushed it slightly to get it to you. I just hope you still enjoy it! Please let me know what you think, reviews are always welcome :)
Zala
We rode in silence up to the Roman villa, and as it came in to view we spurred our horses in to a gallop. I sat low in the saddle, enjoying the sense of freedom the fast pace gave me. Though we did not make eye contact, I could sense a race building between my brother's and I had to bite back a laugh. Boys would be boys. We certainly caused a stir among the peasants who lived outside the villa's walls. They dropped their tools and left their work, amazed by our arrival.
"Come quickly! Come see!" I surprised myself by being slightly bashful at the gawking. The peasant folk back at the fort were used to us riding by in our glittering armour on our huge war horses; but these remote creatures had not seen us before and they were like little children in the way they gazed at us wonderingly.
Unsurprisingly the doors to the grand house were quickly slammed shut and we had to rein our horses to a halt. I pulled up next to Gawain and we shared a brief look before our attention switched back to the guards on the wall.
"Who are you?" someone shouted down at us as the villagers inched closer, eager for a better view.
"I am Arthur Castus, Commander of the Sarmation Knights, sent by Bishop Germanius of Rome." Arthur's powerful voice cut through the air and echoed back from the walls. My heart swelled with pride to be serving under such a commander.
"Open the gate," replied the guard to his companion and as his bidding was done I couldn't help but notice that the crowd of villagers had grown. They were watching us intently and I felt slightly uncomfortable as their gaunt eyes peered at us. Had they eaten lately? The gates before us opened then and a Roman man came striding out, pride and arrogance screaming from every move he made.
"It is a wonder you have come!" he cried clapping his hands together in glee. "Good Jesus, Arthur and his knights." As he approached he nudged Galahad's horse aside with his hand, so as only to address Arthur. My nostrils flared and my eyes narrowed. I hated him already, pompous fool.
"You have fought the Woads? Vile creatures." As if he knew what fighting the Woads was like. He probably stayed cooped up behind his villa's walls and observed the fighting from a window. Luckily for us, Arthur was not in the mood for small talk.
"Our orders are to evacuate you immediately," he said firmly, catching the man off guard.
"But...But that is impossible."
"Which is Alecto?" I saw Arthur's eyes dart up to the walls and scan along them, ignoring the Roman before him.
"I am Alecto." My eyes snapped to the young boy standing with a woman – most likely his mother – up on the wall, looking down at us with a studious gaze. He did not seem to be the least bit like his father.
"Alecto is my son. And everything we have is here, in the land given to us by the Pope of Rome." I rolled my eyes in exasperation and Gawain had to bite back a smirk at my expression.
"Well you're about to give it to the Saxon's," commented Lancelot dryly, clearly as impatient as me.
"They're invading from the North," added Arthur quickly, keen to get the formalities over as quickly as possible so we could get going. The Roman hesitated for a moment, letting this information sink in before defiance crept in to his features.
"Then Rome will send an army!" I scoffed. The Roman's weren't bothering to exert themselves that much. Nasrin sensed my mood and shifted nervously. Gawain leaned over to me and whispered quietly,
"Steady Zala, he's a Roman as much as the rest of them." I nodded, brought Nasrin under control and swept my gaze over the villager's instead. They weren't healthy men and woman. The children looked famished and as I went to look away a young girl caught my eye. She gazed at me so pleadingly I very nearly got off my horse to go to her. Instead I gave her a weak smile and nodded my head in her direction. At least she seemed fairly pleased by that.
"Come, let's go hmm?" I heard Bors deep voice say to Arthur, who I was surprised to find off his horse. It would appear the Roman had kicked up a fuss about leaving and Arthur had set him straight. As I watched him stalk away I felt my fingers clench in to a fist.
Out the corner of my eye, I noticed Arthur's gaze slip away from Bors and over to a cluster of houses. Outside them, an old man was tied by shackles to a crude timber frame. I saw the steely glint in Arthur's eyes and I felt expectation surge through me. He went to his horse and pulled out his sword, not once taking his eyes from the chained man. Bors sighed impatiently and drew his own sword, dismounting with the grace of a troll. At any other time, this would have been funny.
"Sir, you're famous. You're Arthur aren't you?" I heard a villager ask him as the crowd surged forward, all of them sensing the same expectation I had. "I'm Ganis. I'm a good fighter and I'm smart. I'd serve you proudly." Not wanting to miss out I ignored Gawain's warning look and dodged his arm as it shot out to stop me from dismounting. I drew myspare dagger, not foolish enough to leave myself undefended and hurried forward to catch up with Bors. A man, a priest by the looks of him, stopped him in his tracks and asked, almost desperately, if he was from Rome.
"From hell," came the gruff reply and I shot an amused look at him. For anyone who got on the wrong side of him, he certainly was from these Christian's hell. We came up to the gathered crowd and Arthur visibly seethed with anger.
"Who is this man?" he asked quietly but as I closed the gap between us I could see the fire building in his eyes.
"He's our village elder," replied Ganis, slightly nervously as if he feared punishment for speaking out.
"What is this punishment for?...Answer me!" Arthur shouted swinging round to face the crowd when no one answered. My gaze swept over the poor man before me. Blood dripped down his back and sides and my heart twisted in rage at the torment he must have faced.
"He defied our master Marius. Most of the food we grow is sent out by sea to be sold. He asked that we keep a little more for ourselves that's all. My arse has been snapping at the grass I'm so hungry! You're from Rome. Is it true that Marius is a spokesman for God, and that it is a sin to defy him?"
I glanced at Arthur in shock and anger. This man was not of any God let alone Arthur's. I swore under my breath, cursing this Roman who vied only for power over his "subjects". Arthur's reply was lost however when two rough hands grabbed my shoulders and swung me round forcibly. One of the villa's guards was looking at me in shock and it must have been mirrored in my own face.
"You are a woman! What are you doing wearing knight's armour? You should be punished!" My shock quickly turned to irritation and I struggled free of his grip, glowering at him.
"I am a knight, so I advise you unhand me before either myself or my brother's punish you for insolence!"
"How dare you lie, you wench! You will be taken prisoner!" He drew his sword and lunged at me. I jumped back and, quite unable to help myself, I started laughing. The guard faltered in his attack, staring at me with incredulity and confusion. My sword arm went limp as I doubled over, my free arm wrapping around my stomach as I struggled for breath.
"What is going on?" I glanced up at Galahad with tear-filled eyes as I clutched my side and leaned heavily on my sword, hysterical. The guard looked between us in confusion then muttered uncertainly;
"But...this is a woman. She is not a proper knight!" Galahad understood and his eyes flashed with his own amusement.
"Oh I can assure you she is a proper knight. And if you do not treat her as such we'll be happy to teach you how." Aghast the man looked at me but I paid him no attention. I wiped my eyes, succeeding in pulling myself together at last, and grinned at Galahad before marching back to my horse; making sure to add a provocative swing to my hips to rub some salt in to the man's freshly wounded pride.
The snow was starting to fall by the time we were ready to go. The whole village was coming with us and it was clear not all my brother's were happy at Arthur's decision. My previous good mood was vanishing as quickly as the cold was descending on my bones. While I would have found it difficult to leave the people vulnerable and unprotected, I couldn't help but wonder if Arthur was making the right decision this time round...although I would staunchly defend him, whatever he decided. The sound of an approaching horse drew my attention. Tristram had returned from his scout and he gave me the briefest of nods as he rode past me before drawing up beside Arthur, relaying his information.
As I swung my gaze round to the villa I caught sight of two men being forced to brick up a wooden doorway. My eyes narrowed in speculation and I turned Nasrin round to face them. That was when the wind changed, and I froze as an eerie drum beat drifted on the breeze. I cocked my head to listen and I felt a stillness descend on the people around me. The Saxons were close...but how close? I exchanged a glance with Bors then I twisted my body round to look at Lancelot and Galahad. They too were listening intently, their faces grave. We were wasting too much time. Nasrin shied, sensing the bleak mood, and I bent to soothe her; stroking her mane while my grip tightened on the reins.
My eyes were drawn once more to the men bricking up the doorway as they were ordered more forcibly to get moving. My spine prickled and I gently spurred my horse forward. They barely even glanced at me as I sent a piercing stare in their direction. I didn't like it...I didn't like it one bit.
"Arthur! Come here!" My voice was gravelly from the cold but the intensity was still obvious. He looked up from a silent exchange with Tristram and his eyes darted from me to the doorway. With barely a blink he drew his sword once more and dismounted, walking purposefully towards the group. As the guards advanced to block his path I launched myself out the saddle and hurried forward, my own sword glinting as I held it up to stop them. Arthur briefly touched my back with his free hand as he passed me - a gesture of thanks - and I flashed him a brief smile.
"Move. Move!" he hissed. I jabbed my weapon at one of the men, sending him scurrying back. Arthur lost his temper when they did not move quick enough and bellowed in to the cold air. "Move!" I glanced up as the others rode over but quickly returned my gaze to the man before me. He looked decidedly nervous and I couldn't help but smirk with spite. Lancelot's horse suddenly appeared behind him and he jerked to one side in fright. Had the situation not been so tense I would have laughed at his expression.
"What is this?" asked Arthur, gesturing with his sword to the doorway. I hovered at his shoulder, my face a grim mask as my eyes darted between the Roman guards. I kept a tight grip of my sword, ready to use it should the need arise.
"You cannot go in there. No one goes in there. This place is forbidden!" Again I felt a prickle down my spine, this time at the man's intensity. It was unnatural. Arthur, however, was not in the least bit daunted and made them back off with his sword, so that he alone stood facing the brickwork.
"What are you doing? Stop this!" cried Marius. He started forward but Bors swung his horse round, blocking his path. My eyes were fixed on Arthur as he contemplated the bricks, reaching forward as if to push them out the way.
"Arthur we have no time," said Lancelot, his voice urgent. "Do you not hear the drums?" seconded Galahad. I threw him a scowl, my tone like ice.
"Of course he does! He's not deaf!" Arthur turned then, locking eyes with me for a moment before eyeing up the rest of his men.
"Dagonet." It was all he had to say. Dagonet dismounted and drew out his axe as Arthur and I retreated slightly to give him room. My eyes watched the motion of his swing as he demolished the priest's hard work in a matter of seconds. I was surprised to find I was shaking; and not entirely from the cold. I looked towards Gawain who had leaned forward in his saddle to see what Dagonet had revealed. The tension was palpable and it set my nerves on edge.
"Key?" asked Arthur when Dagonet failed to kick in the solid wood. The guard's looked just as uncomfortable as I felt.
"It is locked...from the inside." My stomach seemed to find my feet and my spine tingled like never before. I suddenly felt the urge to turn and flee. This was a horrible place and I sensed foreboding creeping along my shoulders. One nod from Arthur gave Dagonet the permission he needed to continue and it was with an eerie squeal of the hinges that the door swung open.
Despite my initial instinct, I tentatively moved forward, hovering by Arthur's shoulder as I peered in to the murky light of a passageway. A ring of steel made be jump and I raised my sword only to find Lancelot advancing towards us. He gave me a wry look which I returned with a scowl, turning my attention back to the doorway. Arthur lifted the torch from the stone wall and held it out in front of him, edging slowly in to hell. I couldn't help but stare at the iron chains hanging before me as I stepped in behind him. I felt my eyes widen and I turned to share a look with my commander.
"You, you. Move. Move!" I heard Gawain shout and I turned to peer behind Lancelot as my cousin shoved the two priests forward to join us. They looked petrified. It didn't help my own misgivings as I swallowed bile and refused the offer of light from Lancelot.
"I'll follow behind Arthur." I managed to whisper. He nodded slowly then allowed Dagonet to pass in front of him so he could offer a torch to Gawain.
"Zala you should be outside," whispered Dagonet in my ear, resting a heavy hand on my shoulder. My knight's blood rushed through my veins and I straightened up, my jaw locking as I ground my teeth in irritation – although I knew he meant well.
"No. I'm coming." He nodded, unsurprised by my decision.
As we progressed down a set of stairs a man's voice drifted up towards us, chanting in Latin. The putrid smell suddenly hit me and I nearly wretched, backing in to Lancelot as I hurried to cover my nose. He held me gently for a moment, gazing at me with concern as a frail voice spat at us.
"Who are these defilers of the Lord's temple?" Lancelot passed me to Dagonet and pushed forward to confront him. I waved his steadying hand away as I regained my composure and managed to give the priest a hard stare.
"Out of the way!" hissed Lancelot, pushing him to one side. It was only then that the true horror of the cells revealed itself to us. The Lord's temple? More like a devil's. I had seen many a bloody battle...but none had prepared me for this. Even Lancelot's expression was one of disbelief and I felt my hand move of its own accord to cover my mouth.
"By the God's" I muttered under my breath. I felt my eyes water under the assault to my nose as Arthur bent to inspect the grated pit at our feet. Decaying bodies...almost bones already. My throat tightened on a wave of nausea and I fought valiantly to hold it back. This place was evil. Its atmosphere seemed to hang heavy across my shoulders and I felt myself slump under the pressure.
"The work of your God? Is this how he answers your prayers?" snapped Lancelot. Arthur rose from his inspection. They shared a look but I could say nothing in either's defence as my free arm snaked around my waist to try and keep my churning stomach at bay.
"See if there are any still alive." Forcing my rigid body to move, I took up my fighting stance and swung as hard as I could at a rusty iron chain. As the grating clattered to the ground I peered in to the semi-darkness and swiftly backed off. No one was alive in there. Dagonet worked his way along a row of pit cells by the far wall while Lancelot attacked the cell beside me.
"How dare you set foot in this holy place!" One of the priests Gawain had brought with him tried to pull Lancelot to his feet and received a sword in the gut for his efforts. Gawain held his burning torch over the body, his expression one of complete indifference.
"There...was a man of God"
"Not my God!" Lancelot replied, pointing at the priest with barely checked fury. I clenched my jaw in anger at the man we had encountered when first entering this hellhole and my hand tightened around the pommel of my sword. How I wanted to run him through. My legs were trembling violently and it took all my willpower to remain standing. I wanted to get out but I couldn't abandon my brother's.
"This one's dead!" Dagonet's voice reverberated round the small space and I flinched. Who wasn't dead down here? Even I felt like a part of me had died.
"By this smell they are all dead," replied Gawain, his voice choked from the horrendous smell.
"Some may yet be alive. We have to check for their sakes." My voice was surprisingly strong but that spark of hope gave me the strength to pull myself together and I glanced towards my cousin. We locked eyes for a moment and he nodded at me before swinging round to the remaining priest, hatred rippling across his features.
"And you, you even move...you join him" He gestured with the flaming torch to the body on the ground before him then turned towards me. Concern flickered in his eyes and I realised I must have gone white. I walked towards him and brushed his arm with my hand as I passed, intending to help Dagonet with his search.
"I'm alright" I whispered. There was another clang and Dagonet gave an urgent cry.
"Arthur!" My head whipped round as he pulled a small boy from the darkness. I cringed as I took in his size. He was just a child...a small child. I left Gawain's side immediately and hurried over to them, taking over watch as Dagonet continued his search in the other cells. I held out my hand to show the boy I meant no harm and, dropping my sword, I reached for him. As I touched his shoulder he flinched and whimpered. I looked him over and cursed under my breath as I realised he had a broken arm.
"It's ok. We'll help you. You are safe now." I whispered soothingly, not sure if he would understand. Yet it seemed to help; he gave me a very fleeting smile.
There was another loud clang of metal. With one arm still wrapped protectively round the boy's good shoulder, I glanced up in time to see Arthur pulling a woman from the shadows.
Lancelot returned to the snowy surface first, dousing his torch in a growing pile of snow. I helped Dagonet to lift the poor boy in to his arms as Arthur hurried up the stairs with the woman. After making sure he was as comfortable as we could get him we quickly followed suit.
"Water! Give me some water!" I heard Arthur call. As soon as the sun hit my eyes and the smell of fresh air streaked down to my lungs, I doubled over and vomited. My hand pressed against the cold stone for support before a strong arm wrapped round my shoulders and I caught a brief glimpse of my cousin before I was forced to double over once more.
"Easy Zala. Easy." He rubbed up and down my back for a few moments before I willed myself to straighten up.
"Stop what you are doing!" Marius' cry made me spin round and my hands balled in to fists.
"What is this madness?" spat Arthur angrily.
"They are all pagans here!" shouted Marius, clearly irritated at our lack of regard for his orders.
"So are we." Galahad's tone dripped with contempt. Marius ignored him.
"They refuse to do the task God has set for them. They must die as an example!"
"You mean they refuse to be your serfs!" cried Arthur. I had never seen him so angry, but then again I could feel my own anger bubbling dangerously close to the surface. The only thing rooting me to the spot was the prospect of losing my freedom because I failed to help bring Alecto and his family back to the Wall. Marius was looking at Arthur as if he had never set eyes on him before.
"You are a Roman. You understand! And you are a Christian!" I felt the muscles of my jaw bunch together as I struggled to stand my ground.
"You! You kept her alive!" He backhanded his wife as she tended to the woman and I snapped.
"Zala, no!" I barely heard Gawain's cry as I sprinted forward. Arthur drew back and punched the man, sending him sprawling to the ground. He pulled out his sword from where he had thrown it in to the earth and held it to Marius' throat. I drew my own from its scabbard and pressed it against his temple, my hands shaking with barely suppressed rage.
"My Lord!" cried a guard as two of them ran forward to help.
"No no. Stop!" Marius switched his gaze from his men to the sword to Arthur. "When we get to the Wall...you will be punished for this heresy." I snarled as Arthur swooped down and pulled the mad man closer to his sword, sneering in contempt.
"Perhaps I should kill you now and seal my fate."
"Or let me do it for you." I pressed the point of my sword closer to his temple, my expression twisted with malice. "The miserable beast doesn't deserve to be killed by you." For the first time I saw fear flicker across Marius' face and I grinned maliciously in satisfaction.
"Zala...Zala calm down. Please." I felt a hand on my shoulder and I shook my head as if emerging from a dream. I looked up to see Gawain gazing at me intently. He squeezed gently and I reluctantly backed off. My sword point, however, remained fixed near the Roman's temple.
"I was willing to die with them. Yes, to lead them to their rightful place. It is God's wish that these sinners be sacrificed. Only then can their souls be saved." My anger now switched from the man at my feet to the priest. I started forward and opened my mouth to retort but Gawain grabbed my arm, holding me steady. Out the corner of my eye I could see Galahad on his horse, looking as if he would like to lunge to hold me back too. Arthur slowly straightened up and the expression on his face was unlike any I had seen before.
"Then I shall grant his wish." I froze in shock, nearly dropping my sword. I gaped between the priest and Arthur, my skin prickling in revulsion at the smug look on the former's face.
"Wall them back up," Arthur's tone was harsh and it seemed to carry across on the breeze like a whip. I wasn't sure how to react any more. The swift change from anger to shock had left me feeling numb and I could only stand and stare as Tristram leaned forward on his horse. "Arthur..."
"I said wall them up!" I flinched at his shout, my head suddenly throbbing as if I had had too much to drink. My sword arm went limp as the priest pleaded and shouted but his cries fell on deaf ears as a group of villagers helped to push them back in to the dungeon.
I kept my head bowed, a torrent of emotions racing through my small frame. Gawain gave my arm a quick squeeze and I managed to wave my free hand at him, indicating I was alright. He nodded, although as I looked at him I could still see the concern on his face. He turned for his horse and my gaze slid from the ground to the woman, dazzled and confused by the sunlight, to the little boy with the broken arm. A hand suddenly settled on my shoulder and I jerked my head in surprise. It was Bors and he gazed down at me with an almost paternal expression.
"Come on, on your horse. We have to go." I paused for a brief moment then nodded, covering his hand with my own in a gesture of thanks before returning to Nasrin. As I mounted my mare the tangled mass of thoughts in my head receded only to be replaced with a distant drumming that was drawing ever nearer.