Chapter Seven

Juliana could have beat her head against the stone wall of her room until her head bled and still she would not have been able to rid herself of the memory of that day. She had come so close to losing all control. If the other knight had not shown up, Juliana had no clue what she would have done. He had saved her from actions that should never have even entered her mind and she was grateful to him, whatever his name was.

After returning to the church, Juliana had promptly retired to her room for hours of meditation and prayer. She had to clear her mind, rid herself of the evil thoughts that had invaded her. She was afraid to look at any of the other Sisters, afraid that they would be able to read her mind and know what had nearly transpired that morning. So, Juliana remained hidden away for the rest of the day.

The moon had risen, casting pale, silver light over the velvet black sky and the dark land that rested beneath its canopy. Juliana knelt by the side of her bed, her lips moving in a silent prayer to the saints. She sought their strength and their willpower, anything that could help her to rid herself of her evil and sinful thoughts. Her knees were sore from kneeling on the stones for hours on end and her back was sore from keeping it straight and rigid, but still Juliana prayed. She would not be deterred from her task, not until she had received a peace of mind and body and soul.

A soft knocking broke through Juliana's prayer. She continued on, however, ignoring the knocking which had become persistent. Her words were now spoken aloud in an effort to mask the continuous knocking.

"Juliana." The voice was muffled coming through the heavy wood door, but still it sounded loud in Juliana's ears. Her eyes snapped open, her prayer effectively cut off. Knocking she could ignore, but a voice she could not.

She struggled to her feet, her body stiff and sore, and walked over to the door. Sister Helen stood on the other side of the door.

"I was beginning to wonder what had happened to you." Sister Helen grinned, her eyes twinkling with laughter. Then she turned suddenly serious. "You haven't been out of your room all day. What is going on?"

"I needed time in solitude." Juliana replied crisply. Solitude was something that all nuns could understand. Often times being in solitude was the best way in which to hear God's voice. So she gave Sister Helen an answer that she could understand in hopes that the other nun would leave her alone once more.

"Oh," Sister Helen nodded her head. "Well Mother Superior has called a meeting and wants you down to the kitchen immediately."

Juliana stifled a sigh. She did not want to go down and join the other Sisters at the meeting. If she did she was certain that they would read the truth within her eyes. Nuns had fraternized with men before, they had fallen from their pious and chaste stature and the consequences had been dire. Juliana did not wish that fate upon herself. She would have stayed holed up in her room for the rest of her life if it meant that she would not be cast from the church. But when Mother Superior demanded something, it was equally unwise to disobey her.

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Galahad drank deeply from the jug of ale that he held. The liquid felt warm and burned the back of his throat slightly as he drank.

The meeting that Arthur had called had run until after supper. The talking had bored Galahad slightly. Always it was the same thing: Discussions about the Woads who still refused Arthur's rule, talks about the surrounding lands and fields and the crop that they yielded, and Rome's constant presence in Camelot. To tell the truth, it was a dull task to be a knight when there were no battles to fight.

It was after dark, and steely gray clouds, laden with rain, were begin to obscure the moon. It would be a downpour this time; a rain whose downpour could cause flooding in the fields if the farmers didn't listen to the winds. The knights were gathered as they always were at night, drinking ale and beer and whiling away their time with the villagers at the small tavern. It was their way to unwind after a tedious day of doing absolutely nothing.

Glancing around the tavern, Galahad watched his friends. Bors stood by the counter stealing kisses from his mistress and the mother of his growing brood of children as she worked serving the town's men and women. Gawain sat at a table, playing a drinking game with a group of hearty looking men, a busty woman perched on his knee. Had they not lost so many of their friends, Galahad was certain that the tavern would have been even more boisterous then it was right then. Lancelot would have been deep in a game of dice, losing his money whenever he wasn't trying to seduce the women. Tristan would have been besting the village men at knife throwing, gaining jealous glances from the men and amorous gazes from the women who had tried to bed him but had been constantly turned away. And Dagonet, good kind Dagonet who looked more evil than he truly was, would have been drinking right beside Galahad in companionable silence. They had lost so many in the past years. It saddened all who remembered the knights that had passed from this world to think that they would never again see their dear friends and companions.

Galahad sighed and took another swig of ale. It felt good to forget his troubles, even if for a moment.

"Well what do we have here?" Zephaniah, a young woman with long brown hair the color of the most fertile soil and eyes that were a brilliant blue, asked. She brushed her fingers over Galahad's shoulders as she moved to sit on the bench beside Galahad. Zephaniah was young, barely past her seventeenth summer, but already she was one of the most beautiful women in the village. And her eyes were set on Galahad. She had made her intentions known to him on more than one occasion, but she was still very young and Galahad had no wish to take an inexperienced maiden to his bed.

You say you don't want an inexperienced maiden in your bed, and yet you constantly think of a young nun during those long nights when you have no companion, and sometimes even then.

The voice within Galahad's mind was annoying beyond words and he wished nothing more than to rid himself of its nagging presence.

He took a long drag of ale before focusing his attention on Zephaniah, whose hands were now trailing softly along his thigh.

"Such a handsome man should not be sitting alone." She purred, casting lustful eyes upon him. "Surely you don't wish to be so."

"I like my solitude." He replied gruffly. His body was reacting to her closeness and soft caresses. But Galahad had not come to the tavern with the idea to take a woman to his bed. And he did not intend to change his mind.

Zephaniah, however, was not deterred from her mission.

"All men may like their solitude, but they only choose to be alone when there is no woman to keep them company." She moved in close, her words brushing against his ear gently. There was not a breath of air between their bodies, and Galahad was losing the fight against his desires. Zephaniah knew how to stir a man's emotions, to make his blood boil with the desires of the flesh. She could manipulate a man to do whatever she wanted with a simple bat of her eyelashes. But Galahad had no wish to be one of those men.

He moved away from her, but Zephaniah quickly closed the gap between them once more.

"Come now, Galahad, don't be like that." She pouted, her full lips looking irresistible to any man's eye, even Galahad's.

Never before had he fought so hard against his body's wants and desires. So why then, did he fight himself now? Why didn't he simply take Zephaniah back to his room if she wanted to go with him so badly?

Because you cannot stop thinking of Juliana. The voice had returned. Galahad stifled the annoyed growl that threatened to escape his lips.

Why should he think of Juliana? The girl was a nun; pious and chaste. She had no desire to give herself to a man. She had committed herself to a life of purity. And so Galahad would leave her: untouched and pure. Even in the rare chance that she should lose her judgment and give herself to him she would, most likely, be so burdened by guilt that her actions would be unpredictable and she might even take her own life. Galahad could not have innocent blood on his hands. So, with a drink, he banished all thoughts of her from his head and then led Zephaniah away from the tavern and into the darkened streets.

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A slightly short chapter, but I hope you guys liked it. Updates might be few and far between now because my family is preparing to move in just a few weeks. I promise, though, that I'll try and get as many chapters out as I can before we have to pack up the computer. Lol. Anyways, please review and tell me what y'all thought of this chapter.

Wander of the Roads: Wow what a long review. Lol. I love it! Your reviews never cease to amaze with how insightful they are. It's so frickin' cool. Thanks for the nitpicking. I like to see what little mistakes I might have made so that I can improve upon them in the coming chapters. Please keep reviewing because I love to read what you have to say.

KingArthurgirl, TRISTANLOVER, grullo-cowgirl, KnightMaiden, greenDayzIdiot, Alexis in Wonderland, the sarahnater, problemgirl088, andDazzler420: Thank you all so much for reviewing. It really means a lot to me that y'all would take the time to tell me what you think of this story. Thanks.