Title: Sarmatian Ladies

Author: Jmaria

Rating: PG-13 - R

Disclaimers/Spoilers: Joss owns the Buffy crew, Bruckheimer, Franzoni, & Fuqua own this incarnation of Arthur & his knights

Summary: You saw what now?

A/N: Oh for the love of all that is holy and good. This chapter took sooo long to write. What had happened was that I lost internet connection as of May 1 (we don't have it at home, and I do at school. . .so kinda screwed on that aspect) Then I had two pure HP fics I had to have done by the second - oops. So, I wrote those the second I was sure my beloved computer wasn't killed (when my sister took the flat-top cart with my PC on it down, some guy was blaring his car radio and the vibrations were so loud that it literally knocked it off the cart. Luckily it was only scratched on the outside.) Then I sorta vegged out for a month. Then I started back at work. So this is the first time I've actually sat down and started writing anything. To get back in the SL 'verse, I re-read Protector and the parts of SL that I have with me (for some reason I don't have parts 1& 2 saved anymore - must have been on that wonky disk of mine), played some of the King Arthur Gamecube game, listened to the soundtrack, flipped through the book, and watched the movie a little. I've boned till I can't bone no more.

7. Through a Mirror

"Lady, these things you tell me of are most strange and of grave import. I am not sorry I came to your aid."

- In Camelot's Shadow, Sarah Zettel

The slave market was brimming with new Sarmatian slave girls. There were four that drew the eyes of the most reputable buyers. One had hair the color of pitch, with eyes as cold as ice. One had the hair of autumn leaves, with eyes the color of new grass. Another with hair as dark as a new born Chestnut colt, and eyes to match. And the final had hair the color of the sun, eyes as deep and as dark as the sea. They were the beauties of the market place.

Faith felt her head throb as the images seemed to wash over her mind. She rubbed her eyes. The best thing to do was to get off the street, get home, and get an ungodly amount of alcohol in her system as quickly as possible.

"Isolde. . ."

"Faith. . ."

"One in the same, time after time. . ."

"His betrayal still burns. . . "

"His betrayal in death."

Boris stared at the girl in utter disbelief. Hadn't she called him in a panic saying they were in danger? Hadn't the girl said that they needed him as well? Gavin's brow furrowed. Dawn and a lanky fellow entered from another room as Gavin spoke.

"Boris? What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here? First off, I get a call from you -" Boris jerked a finger toward Dawn, "Crying your eyes out that someone's gonna off you lot, and you give me directions to come help you. Then I get there and some curvy blonde named Tara says it's all a false alarm and to come here. Now you tell me what the bloody hell I'm doin' here." Boris shouted.

"I never called you." Dawn said quietly.

"Tara?" Willow said at the same time. "Is that what he said, Dawnie?"
"Yeah." Dawn whispered, sitting down hard on the sofa.

"Someone better come up with a damn good answer." Trevor said calmly.

"Tara -" Willow's eyes filled with tears. Gavin stood a few inches closer to her, and Willow took an unconscious step towards him.

"Tara was Willow's girlfriend. She died five years ago." Dawn said quietly, her hand on her stomach. "She was shot."

"Well, the bint that I saw was very much alive."

"That's not possible!" Willow cried. "It's gotta be the -"

"It's not the First, Will." Dawn said firmly. "Spike and Buffy squashed it. The hellmouth collapsed -"

"It's the Firs Evil, Dawnie. Not a Saturday Morning cartoon villain." Willow sighed.

"I know. But think about it. If it were the First - why would it send him straight to us?"

The room went eerily quiet. The four men exchanged confused looks. Gwen rolled her eyes. At least they were bonding, even if it was in confusion. Trevor's gaze narrowed on her.

"You know what they're talking about." It was a statement rather than a question.

"Well, yeah. My father worked for the Council. The First Evil tried to destroy the world about three years ago." Gwen said, her eyes on Dawn and Willow. "It started by destroying Potential Slayers."

"Potential whats?" Boris demanded.

"One girl in all the world, chosen to slay demons and vampires." Gwen's eyes slid over to Trevor. "You met one of them last night."

"Faith."

"Demons and vampires?" Boris chortled derisively. "You're joking."

"No, she's not." Dawn said quietly. "My sister, Buffy is the oldest surviving vampire slayer. Faith is the second."

"And Vi?" Garrett asked.

"She's one of the first wave of new slayers." Dawn sighed when she was met with blank stares.. "There's three that survived the battle that were from the 'first group'. Kennedy, Vi, and Rona were three of the first seven that showed up in Sunnydale. That would make them all tied for third place."

Vi gazed nervously around the apartment. Everything was in place. This should go off without a hitch, and everything would be golden. She nodded to herself, counting off the things she was supposed to remember. Her breath caught in her throat when she heard the knock on the door.

"Showtime." She whispered.

Southern Roman Empire, 460

Viviane idly twirled the short dagger between her fingers. Claudius should have reached her with news by now. The four Sarmatian women had been sold together three years ago, and in the slums of the Empire they had made names for themselves. They weren't known by their names, but as ferocious gladiators - the Raven, the Fox, the Lion, and the Wolf.

Today was the day of reckoning. Viviane had won her freedom not a week ago in her final battle, Elaine the week before. Today Isolde and Morgana would win their freedom. Her pale green eyes flicked toward the doorway.

The four women had been in Rome for all of ten days before they had been sold to a wealthy Roman official who was stationed in Egypt. Certain practices - such as the gladiatorial matches - were still allowed in the southern reaches of the Empire. The four Sarmatians had quickly risen to favor among the spectators. They were small women who each battled men, women, and beasts twice their size and had never fallen.

The Raven was known for her cunning strategies and the way she called out to her opponents, teasing and taunting them into fighting in anger rather than with a calm mind. The Fox was known for her ability to slip past anything, often backing her opponents into corners when they thought they had had the upper hand. The Wolf and the Lion were eerily similar in their tactics. Each seemed to stalk their opponents, the Wolf always seeming to go for her opponents strengths and turning them into weaknesses, while the Lion worked on the missteps.

And now that they could almost taste their freedom, they had begun to plan. They would wind their way back to Sarmatia, to where they had been taken from to see if anything remained of their camp. Then they would head towards Briton. Viviane had nothing to return to, her family had been wiped out five winters ago from illness. Isolde and Elaine sought men, and Morgana had often said it felt as if something was pulling her north. Viviane was a simple woman, she had never wanted more than a family of her own and peace in a world where it seemed impossible to obtain. She had had a lover, a fellow gladiator for a short time until she had to face him in battle. Claudius imagined himself to be her lover, but she did not love him. So she too would go North, looking for a life of her own. There was a knock on the door.

"It's time." She murmured, clutching the dagger in her hand as she unbarred the door.

Boris's eyes welled over with tears as he chuckled boisterously. He wiped at his eyes as Gwen, Willow and Dawn all glowered at him. Trevor merely cocked an eyebrow, Gavin frowned and Garrett looked confused.

"What's so funny?" Gwen asked in a low tone.

"You lot expect me to believe that a lot of little girls -"

"And Spike." Dawn added.

"And this Spike bloke, sauntered down into the mouth of hell and ganged up on the first evil?" Boris demanded.

"Yes."

"That's some of the funniest shit I've heard in years."

"We lost a lot of people we cared about that day. It's not meant to be funny." Willow said roughly. "Anya, Spike, and dozens of innocent girls died that day all so the world could go on it's merry tra-la-la-ing way."

"I'm sorry, but that bit about us being re-incarnated mystical and mythical Knights of the Round Table was easier for you to believe?" Garrett asked in his most sarcastic and pain-in-the-ass voice. "Funny, I would have thought it would be the other way around."

"Well, you only say that because you tried to boink a slayer." Dawn rolled her eyes. "And you did see me stake a vamp a few weeks back."

"Which is not good for the baby, I might add." Garrett fought the urge to stick his tongue out at her.

"Whose the father?" Trevor's eyes snapped between each of the three women.

"This one ain't heard yet?" Boris asked.

"We kinda haven't gotten around to that yet." Dawn said blushing.

"Yeah, there was a tangent we kinda got off on." Willow smiled weakly.

"Dagonet was his name -"

"Sir Dagonet, the fool. My namesake beat him senseless one time." Trevor said knowingly.

"No. Your namesake a.k.a. your past life never beat him senseless." Dawn paused for a beat. "Not that I know of anyway."

"Might explain the scar he had." Gwen said quietly.

"No, that was when Kay got killed." Gavin said knowingly. He chewed on his thumbnail, not noticing the stares he was receiving from the rest of the group. He looked up. "What'd I say?"

"Kay?" Dawn said. "You remember one of the other knights?"

"Well, yeah, it happened right after I arrived. There was an attack, a Woad got the upper hand on Dag and he fell over. Kay came in to cover him and when he blocked an axe swipe one of the other bastards got a lucky shot off that went through his armor. I ran forward and got the bastard who shot him. It was my first kill."

"How old were you?" Willow asked.

"Ten, eleven maybe."

They all stared at him in stunned silence. Willow's eyes started to fill and she wrapped a protective arm around him. Dawn felt her jaw drop slightly. She shook her head.

"Since when do you remember the other knights?" She demanded.

"Since now, I guess."

"Well, Gavin was the first one you found after you spoke to the direct liaison to the Powers." Gwen pointed out.

"And he has known about his past life longer than the rest of us by a few weeks." Garrett added. "Well, Gwen and I anyway."

"What are the Powers?" Trevor asked.

"The Powers that Be pretty much try to organize the warriors of the light, and end up screwing up everyone's lives."

"Dawnie. . "

"It's true, Wills. They told us Angel was working for the bad guys, Cordelia and Wesley both died because of them, and we don't even know what happened to Spike, Angel, and that guy Gunn who worked with them. That girl Fred died too, because the Powers told Giles to stay out of it because they were the new bad guys." Dawn said in a wounded voice. "They manipulated Buffy years ago, and they screwed me over when they decided to haul my butt back in time. Then they sent Whistler and that mean bitch Europa to condemn me for picking the wrong knight."

"Tara . . . Dawnie, what if they sent Tara?"

"Why would they send her?"

"Because someone called Boris pretending to be you - what if someone wants the knights to stay in the dark?" Willow asked. "And someone up there, maybe even Cordy herself, sent Tara to intervene."

"Crap-a-doodle-doo."

Morgana was led down a dark corridor. Isolde's victory still rang in her ears, but Morgana would not find herself free this night. She had not even been given the chance to fight. She'd been stolen from the gladiator's quarters by two obscenely large soldiers and dragged in here. To him. She could smell him - his power, his gifts, even his hatred.

The blindfold was removed from her eyes as she was shoved roughly into the center of the room. Morgana blinked once, her eyes focusing on the figure draped in rich crimson robes, gold flicking in low lamplight.

"Lady Raven, thank you for coming to meet with me." The rich voice spoke in her native Sarmatian tongue. Morgana cocked an eyebrow. Let him go on thinking she did not know his language.

"Lord Death, I was given no other option but to obey your summons."

"Lord Death? Is that what they are calling me now?" He laughed. "I am a lord, but not over Death. Over Life." Lord Mordred - the taker of life, bastard son of a then conscripted soldier and foolish noblewoman.

He had followed in his father's footsteps, becoming an officer in the Roman army. He was notorious for his viciousness on the battlefield as well as in the fort he commanded. Not much passed his ever-watching eye. Which was one of the reasons Morgana and her sisters had never even dared to risk an escape. He and his lapdogs would have found them inside an hour. Some whispered that the Lord of Death had sold his soul for immortality. Standing across from him now, Morgana believed every whispered word.

"What is it you would have of me," Morgana paused, "My lord?"

"There are whispers in the darkest reaches of this city that even I hear, lady. Many citizens have heard that you are a witch?" Mordred leaned forward. "Is it true?"

"I am a Sarmatian." She said quietly.

"And?"

"All Sarmatian women learn something of healing drafts and soothing salves." Morgana paused, "And of course, we all learn how to wield a weapon."

"I can see where that would lead some who know very little about your people to believe that you were a witch."

"I am not." Morgana squared her shoulders. "Are you in need of a witch, my lord?"

"No."

"Then why summon me."

"Lady Raven, there is one among you they call the Lion." Mordred smiled. "I would like to possess such a creature as she."

"The Lion has already earned her freedom. She is no one's possession."

"Yes, a fact I have learned too late." Mordred's eyes narrowed angrily at the figure she now saw in the shadows. "But it is rumored that you know of her whereabouts, and could possibly persuade her to become mine. I would grant you your freedom, Lady Raven."

"I would never betray my sister's freedom for my own. Sarmatians do not work that way."

Viviane pulled the bolt back and was shocked to see only Elaine and Isolde in the doorway. She quickly ushered them in, making sure no one noticed the two women. She waited half a moment after barring the door before speaking.

"Where is Morgana and Claudius?"

"Claudius arranged for her to be taken just before her match. He's been working for the Lord of Death." Elaine spat.

"The Lord of Death's been heard to say Morgana has a witch's look about her." Isolde continued. "He ordered her match to be cancelled. They had to anyway, the bastard took her by force."

"But they allowed you to fight?"

"Aye." Isolde sighed. "Did Claudius know of our plans? Did he know that only Morgana knows where to find the Sarmatian camp?"

"I never - damn, he must have heard us that night." Viviane muttered. A thought struck her then. "What happened to him?"

"The coward ran off when he saw Isolde coming at him with her sword." Elaine sighed. "We won't be safe here, not if the Lord of Death thinks we're consorting with witches."

"And Morgana?"

"We'll think of something. We swore we would not leave a sister behind."

"So what exactly was your plan?" Trevor asked, leaning forward.

"What?"

"Your master plan after you found us. What were you supposed to do with us?"

"What do you mean supposed to do?" Dawn asked.

"You said the Powers bitched you out for falling for the wrong knight. You're carrying the wrong child then, aren't you? So then you can't really go through with the mission they wanted you to have."

"You'd think that, but they still want me to go through with it." Dawn sighed. "The 'master plan' was to gather the knights and move to the Wall."

"The wall?" Boris asked.

"Hadrian's wall. We've got a house already bought for the six of us just south of the wall." Gavin said, pointing to the three women and Garrett. "There's enough room for the four other knights."

"That is if you want to join us. You don't have to."

"It would probably be safer for you if did." Gwen said. "Then you would know if someone was trying to trap you."

"How we gonna support ourselves?" Trevor asked.

"You'd all become employees of the Council of Watchers and in a sense, be paid for assisting me. You'd be trained to watchers or assistant researchers, Giles would send us information and assignments to work on. You be putting in field training, but other than that, you'd only have light work around the house." Dawn said.

"You're gonna pay us for house work and playing with sharp objects." Trevor said flatly.

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Oh, and helping avert a few minor apocalypses."

After two more hours of getting phone numbers, giving out the moving date and arranging transport then another two hours of furniture shopping and arranging to hire moving vans for the days in question, Dawn found herself wanting nothing more than a good nights sleep, even though it was only three thirty. Her room was dark and the blinds were drawn when she opened the door. Something was off. She slipped her hand into her purse and grabbed the throwing dagger she had tucked in her bag before she left. Then with her left hand, she casually flipped on the lights. The dagger was out of her hand the instant she saw the first figure pop up.

"Surprise!" Five voices started to say. The fifth one was cut off as the dagger whizzed by her face.

"What the hell was that for?" Kennedy screeched.

It was then that Dawn noticed the baby shower decorations strewn around the room. Vi, Rona Lewis, Kit Holburn, and Carlos Trejo stood there with their mouths hanging open, Kennedy Van Haverbrooke just glared at her.

"I know you're not overly fond of me, but I didn't think you'd resorted to hurling daggers at me, Summers."

A/N2: Gladiatorial practices ended around 470 A.D., and slavery around 500 A.D. It might have not been practiced in the city of Rome, but I'm sure it happened somewhere in the empire. As for the Sarmatians ('Amazons') being gladiators - well, you can blame Marion Zimmer Bradley's book Warrior Woman for that. I read it while I was thinking about Elaine, Isolde and Morgana.

In other news, my prayers go out to all of those people who were caught in the London bombings. My thoughts were on all of you who are in London, as well as my best friend who was and still is in London, studying abroad. She was in class, less than a block away from one of the bombings.