Chapter Six

Nearly a month passed before Juliana saw Galahad again. He had not attended Mass for the weeks following their encounter in the cemetery, and, despite herself, Juliana found herself wondering where he might be. She didn't want to think of him. No, she wanted to wipe all remembrance of him from her mind. But Galahad's ruggedly handsome face and roguish smile would not be effaced from her memory.

It was barely past sun-up on the day that she would next encounter him. Juliana was wide awake, despite the early hour, and hungry for an adventure. The weeks following her visit to the cemetery had been spent at Mother Superior's constant beck-and-call. She had had little time to herself and was ready to feel the untamed wind on her face and soak up the sun's hot rays.

There were not many things that Mother Superior actually approved of other than prayer and meditation with God. Juliana's painting, however, was one of the few exceptions. Since she had first picked up the brush of a traveling artist, Juliana had loved to paint. She had some talent and was pretty decent; though she still had a long ways to go before she was able to compare herself to the true masters. There hadn't been much time for painting when the news first came that the nuns were leaving for Camelot, and Juliana missed the smells of the paint and the feel of the brush in her hand as it moved across the canvas. She could practically taste the thrill of completing a work. Her fingers itched to hold a brush, to glide across the blank white canvas leaving streaks of brilliant color in her brush's path. The urge was so overwhelming that Juliana had started to become antsy as she sat about the church saying her prayers and doing her chores.

Mother Superior had held firm to Juliana's staying near to the church. She told Juliana that if she wished to paint that she could do so in the church's courtyard. But Juliana's yearning would not be satisfied with the dull courtyard as a subject. No, she needed the open space where land meets sky to serve as her backdrop. So, with much begging on Juliana's behalf, Mother Superior relented and gave the young woman permission to leave the church's walls to paint. The catch: she would need a knight to accompany her for protection, along with an escort should the knight decide to get a little…frisky.

Juliana stood in the stable, gently petting the horse that the stable hand had saddled for her. Sister Martha- a heavy set nun whose face was permanently set in a scowl- was staring dubiously at the horse that had been assigned her. They stood in silence, awaiting the knight that Arthur had said would accompany them. Juliana was anxious to get going. She didn't want to waste a single moment of daylight. The sun had already crested the horizon moments ago and every minute after that was precious to Juliana's artisan mind.

A shadow filled the stable's open doorway and Juliana turned to see which knight Arthur had sent. Her heart stopped when she saw him. Galahad.

Her fingers tightened in the horse's mane, causing the chestnut mare to toss her head in protest. Galahad's eyes caught Juliana's and he winked at her. Sister Martha, who was too busy trying to mount her own mare, had not seen Galahad's flirtatious wink. And for that, Juliana was glad. The news of it, had the old nun seen, would have been immediately reported to Mother Superior and Juliana might have lost any and all privilege to paint outside of the courtyard.

In response to the wink, Juliana simply scowled at Galahad. She prayed that he would receive the not so hidden message in her glare and leave her alone. She did not need him distracting her.

Juliana deftly mounted the mare and shifted so that she could sit comfortably in the side-saddle. Galahad mounted his own horse and guided the ebony mare out into the village, not even bothering to look back to see if Juliana and her escort were behind him.

The ride out to the open planes was short, and for that Juliana was glad. Not only was the side-saddle extremely uncomfortable, but Sister Martha looked as if she were about to fall off her horse. And Juliana did not need her escort to get hurt since it would mean that both women would have to return promptly to the church.

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Galahad reigned his horse in and dismounted easily. He turned and watched as Juliana easily jumped from the back of her own mare and offered her assistance to the older nun- who smacked her hand away and struggled down from the horse unassisted. Galahad snorted and shook his head.

Why did Arthur have to assign him this task? Why not Gawain or Bors or one of the lesser knights? Yes, one of the lesser knights would have been glad to take on such a task, so as to prove to Arthur that they would do any task, no matter how trivial, for him. Galahad would have gladly given the task to one of them. He didn't want to spend any more time than necessary with the nuns, even if Juliana was one of them. Especially if Juliana was one of them. He didn't need her around, constantly reminding him that there were actually some things that were out of his reach, that he could not have. Galahad did not need that reminder- his constant thinking of Juliana served well enough for that task. But yet there he was, stuck babysitting an aged woman and a woman who would not be thrown from his mind- or his dreams.

The old woman set a blanket out on the ground in the shade of a large oak and sat down. It wasn't long before her snoring disrupted the peaceful stillness of the grassy plane. Galahad shook his head with a mirthless chuckle. Some chaperone she was.

Some distance away, Juliana sat, her shoulders bent and her eyes scanning the trees in the distance and the small stream that filtered past the small party. A small table had been set up beside her and jars filled with varying colors sat atop. She held a brush in her hand, her fingers wrapped delicately around the handle and a white canvas rested on her lap.

A loud snore broke through the air. Galahad sighed. It was going to be a long day.

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The sun was warm on her back as Juliana sat painting, and sweat was beginning to bead on her forehead. She could already feel it dripping down her back in little rivers. She cast a look at Sister Martha, who slumbered beneath a nearby tree, and bit her lip. Thinking it safe enough without the elder nun's watchful eyes, for the moment, peaceably closed, Juliana set down her brush and pulled off her headdress. Her hair fell down around her shoulders and her head felt instantly cooler.

With a happy sigh, she returned to her painting.

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Galahad could no longer concentrate on sharpening his sword. He had been busy concentrating on the blade and the stone which he used to sharpen it and not noticing Juliana, or trying not to at least. But his plan was shot to hell as soon as her hair came loose. He would never forget that hair even when he lay cold in the grave. He'd never known anyone with hair so red. It drew him in, like a moth to the candlelight; or a drunk to his ale.

He tried to shake himself from his self-imposed trance, but his eyes would not stray from her. As if she could feel his eyes on her, Juliana looked up. Her eyes widened slightly, as if she had forgotten that he was even there.

Not knowing what he was doing, but feeling drawn to his actions nonetheless, Galahad stood from his seat on a large rock and walked over to where Juliana sat. With each step he took, Juliana's eyes grew wider and more fearful. It was as if she knew what was in his mind, what he was going to do, before Galahad could even comprehend them himself.

"Please," she whispered as soon as he was within hearing range, "please don't come any closer." Her voice trembled with each word she spoke.

"Why not?" His own voice was harsh to his own ears in comparison to Juliana's. She dropped her gaze from his.

"For I fear what would happen if you should."

Galahad could not help but notice the pink that tinged her cheeks as she spoke. So she felt it too?

"And what do you think will happen?" He couldn't keep the hint of teasing, nor the hint of want, from his voice.

Juliana's blush deepened until her face was nearly as red as her hair.

"I dare not say lest I put thoughts in your mind that were not there before." Her eyes were fixated on the painting on her lap and her fingers tightened around the brush she held until her knuckles were white.

Galahad took a step closer. He wanted to see her reaction; to know what was going on within the confines of her mind. Juliana's shoulders stiffened, but she made no move to get away from him. He took another step and her breathing became noticeably sharper. He went to take another step, but was halted by the hoof beats of an approaching horse.

"Galahad." Gawain reigned his horse in mere feet from the pair. Galahad cursed beneath his breath. Damned Gawain. Why did he have to ride up just as Galahad was finally making a small step of progress with Juliana.

"What?" He asked tersely, wishing Gawain gone. He had not missed the look that the older knight had cast at Juliana from atop his horse.

"Arthur wants to meet with all the knights. There are issues that must be discussed post haste." Gawain answered, ripping his gaze from Juliana's bowed head. Her hair still remained uncovered and Galahad found himself wishing that she'd never taken off her headdress in the first place.

"Very well." Galahad nodded his head. "We'll pack up now and return immediately." Gawain returned his nod and turned his horse's head in the direction of the village. Galahad cast one last look at Juliana, who was swiftly gathering up her paints, and went to un-tether his horse.

Beneath the oak, the old nun still snored, unaware of all that had transpired.

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Yippee, another chapter done. So, what did you guys think? Was it good? Please review and tell me what you thought.

Wander of the Roads: Lol. Thanks for pointing out my spelling mistake. I didn't even know that I had done that. Now before you say anything about it, I have no clue when paint was invented or if nuns were allowed to paint (I would think that it'd be frowned upon, but that's just me). So, now feel free to nit pick whatever you want 'cause I love to know what you notice about my story that I've missed. :-)

Evenstar-mor2004: Lancelot and Dagonet are also dead.

Homeric, the sarahnater, Alexis In Wonderland, and KnightMaiden: Thank you all so much for reviewing.