The forested shore loomed to his left, seeming to grow in size as he drew nearer to its bank. The gentle swish and splash of the waves raked over the gritty sands of the beach. Crickets and other nightly insects sang in the tall grasses by the waterside, like a soft symphony lulling the rest of the world to sleep. But for the most part, everything was utterly silent. In the distance, an owl let out one, sad call, causing the sound to echo through the quiet forest.

Now that he was here, Asterix felt his stomach twist into a tight, uncomfortable knot. It always did that when he was stressed about something, or feeling uneasy about a particularly hard mission, but it was undoubtedly worse this time. Maybe it was because he knew how dire his situation really was. Or the fact that other people's lives were at stake. No, that couldn't be it. He had dealt with that kind of pressure before. So why was he so nervous? Why was he so tense?

Because you can't rely on Gatafix's magic potion to get everyone out safe this time, his mind answered. That was it. Or at least, partly it.

Asterix subconsciously lay a hand on the little green gourd on his belt. It gave him a little comfort knowing it was there, but that was about all it could do tonight. He had brought it with him, just in case, by some miracle, a chance to use it arose. But that was very unlikely. Asterix couldn't take the chance of dashing into the Roman camp, bashing soldiers left and right. He knew it would be a very bad idea. While he was busy beating up the sentrys, someone would make their way back to Spacious before Asterix could stop them. Then he'd never make it in time. Spacious would kill Panacea before Asterix could even make it through to her. And Asterix knew he would.

Sneaking would be his main tactic. That had been the chief reason for making Obelix stay behind in the village. The big Gaul's heart might be in the right place, but Asterix simply couldn't afford the risk. Obelix was huge, to put it kindly, and would more than likely be spotted. He also tended to be very noisy. His normal footfalls were like mini explosions, and anything short of a tip-toe sounded like an earthquake.

No, Asterix decided he had done the right thing by convincing his fellow Gaul to stay behind. Obelix was his friend, and enough of his friends had been put in harms way recently. He didn't want any more suffering, or pain, or fear; all he wanted was for things to go back to normal. At the moment, the prospect of that ever happening felt very nearly impossible.

He would sneak in. Spacious was a proud Roman, thinking himself and his race unbeatable. As far as the Commander knew, he had the Gauls at his mercy. The Romans would be at ease; confident of their victory. It would be fairly simple to make his way in undetected...he hoped.

Reaching the shore, Asterix once again slipped into the frigid water. It came up to his knees, then came up a little higher as his feet sank deeper into the sand as a wave was dragged back out to sea. Struggling slightly to keep his balance, the little Gaul took hold of the raft and proceeded to pull it far enough up the bank as to keep it from floating out to deep water.

He got it up and concealed, throwing reeds and other grassy plants that resided by the ocean's shore on top of it. In the dark it was well hidden; only someone looking for it specifically would ever spot it at all.

Once he knew his craft was secure, Asterix began to make his way into the dark forest. He took small, slow steps; keeping as quiet as he possibly could. One noise could blow his cover. One twig. One false step. His senses felt acute; alert. That was always how he worked when he was in the midst of danger. He felt more awake. As if he could feel, hear, and see more clearly. He became completely focused on the world around him. Not a sound escaped his ears. The slightest noise had him pausing, breath held in suspense. After several moments, with no evidence of another living soul, he would continue.

A light breeze rolled through the forest, bringing with it a burst of cold air. Asterix wasn't expecting it, and he shivered, wishing he had brought a cloak.

The murmur of low voices caught the Gaul's attention, and Asterix quickly and silently slipped into the underbrush. Just in time too, for two soldiers came into sight a short moment later.

They were completely attired in their uniforms and armed to the teeth. Each held a long spear in their right hands, and had a sword buckled on belts around their waists. The helmets on their heads caught the soft light of the stars above them. The two Romans conversed lowly, but Asterix was close enough to hear them fully.

"I hate these night watches," complained the first, rubbing a fist into his tired eye. It was obvious they had been on duty for quite some time.

"Eh, quit your bellyaching," mumbled the other, grouchily.

"I can't. I'm sick of this endless patrolling, night after night."

"Commander's orders. You have to."

The first Roman paused in their walk, giving his companion an annoyed look. "Why is he making us guard the whole forest, anyway? It's not like the Gauls are going to try anything. We've got them well under our thumbs." He made a downward motion with his own thumb to emphasis.

The other Roman laughed. It wasn't a friendly one either. More like the kind when you're humoring an imbecile. "You're new here aren't you?" He pointed in the direction of the village. "Those Gauls could beat our entire regiment to pieces before we even knew what hit us. They've got this potion that gives them strength. Their druid makes it for them." He shook his head. "Nope. You don't assume anything when it comes to that lot."

"But they're out of potion, aren't they?"

"That's what the Commander believes. But he knows these Gauls real well. Studied them they say. For months. He's not taking any chances."

Asterix felt his heart falter at the Roman's next words.

"We're all out patrolling in case one of them gets it into his head to try and rescue the prisoner. The minute they try it, we sound the alarm. The Commander would take care of that woman we've got back there. The Gaul would never make it to her before it was too late."

"What do you mean?" the other Roman asked. Apparently he wasn't the smarter of the two.

"It means she'll be dead, stupid," the soldier hissed. "Now come on. We've got to keep patrolling, unless you want to be taking the prisoner's place."

After a moment, the sound of their movements diminished, fading from sight and sound.

Asterix emerged from his hiding spot, careful not to make any sudden movements. He didn't know if there were any other patrols in the area, but he wasn't going to risk being heard.

The little Gaul cursed under his breath. He had been right. Unsettlingly right. He should have known the Commander would know better. Spacious had anticipated their next move. His move. It bothered him that the Commander could predict them so accurately. Of course, it could all be a coincidence...but somehow, Asterix couldn't bring himself to believe that. The woods were crawling with soldiers. Asterix was sure that Spacious wouldn't have spared a single man on his detail to keep watch. It just fit with the Commander's behavior so far. It made Asterix...nervous. Something about the Roman disturbed him. Frightened him. He knew them better than any Roman Asterix had ever come across. Knew him better.

Of course, Asterix had quite accurately predicted the Commander's plan as well. That, for some reason, was almost more disturbing. It was as if he and the Roman's mind worked in the same manner. Planned the same. They could anticipate each others movements. Like a game of strategy. Two opponents...both of equal ability. Both fully capable, and both willing to make the next step. But the question was, who would triumph? Asterix had the feeling that this game would never end as a tie. Someone had to win...and someone had to lose.

So now it was Asterix's move. Should he charge ahead with his plan? Or head back to the village? What was Spacious expecting him to do? It hurt the little Gaul's head just to think about it. Neither choice was at all pleasant. The sun had set for the second time. That only left five days to either rescue Panacea...or surrender. To go ahead with this plan might bring about the woman's death far earlier than that. If he went back to the village, they could try and come up with a way to outsmart the Roman Commander.

That decided it. He who fights and runs away, may live to fight another day. This wasn't a defeat, it was a drawback.

Sadly, Asterix turned and headed back toward the place where he had hidden his raft. It was almost painful to do so. Practically everything in him told him to go ahead with the original plan: save Panacea and bring her back to the village. But that small, nearly unnoticeable nudge deep inside him told him it would be a grave mistake. That voice was very weak compared to the loud shouts of his other feelings, but over the years Asterix had learned to listen to it. Its whispers had always served him well, and he wasn't about to turn his back on it now.

Behind him, the forest grew even quieter. It seemed relatively empty, but looks could be very deceiving. The woods were swarming with quiet patrols of restless soldiers. And behind that, in a clearing not too far away, Panacea sat by the soft light of a dying fire.

The cold air was even more noticeable to the girl now that her main source of heat was all but gone. She shivered, wrapping the remaining rags of her tattered cloak around her. She wanted more wood for the fire; she even asked the hulking guard, but he ignored her requests. Attempting to gather some herself proved even more disappointing, as the moment she moved to get up she was threatened by the Roman's long, deadly spear.

So now she sat in the dark and lonely cold. The glowing embers of the fire didn't light up hardly a thing. They only pulsed gently in the ashes, slowly dying...just like the hope in Panacea's heart. She gazed in the direction of the village, thinking of each of her friends in turn. They would be settling in for the night. She pictured the little cottages, full of the warm light of comfy hearths. Beds of clean straw and cloth, stuffed into comfortable mattresses. She remembered the warmth and safety those little cots had always given her when she was a child. Tucked lovingly under the covers by her father each night, knowing she was surrounded by a sturdy wall and strong, brave adults, she never feared the dangers of the outside world.

That safety was threatened now. The villagers would sleep uneasily. Even the warmth of the beds would do little to allay their fears. The wall that once symbolized protection, now represented imprisonment; and the strength and bravery of the adults would be torn between fighting for their freedom, and preserving their lives and the lives of their children.

Panacea carefully lay down in the damp grass. The moisture from the dew soaked into her dirty and wrinkled dress, making her even more miserable. At least her stomach was full, thanks to Anxious. Panacea still wasn't sure what to think of the small, kind-hearted Roman. A part of her was still weary of him. He was a Roman soldier after all; under the command of that lunatic, Spacious. But the rest of her told her he could be trusted. Something in the man's face seemed to calm her suspicions. He had been genuinely concerned and...sorrowful. Regret had practically shone from his dark eyes. Fear too. Fear of being caught? Of the Roman Commander? Panacea wasn't sure. But what she was sure of was that Anxious had taken a risk to help her, and for that she was extremely grateful. In all this terror and worry and anguish...it was nice to know she had at least one friend out there. Even if he was a Roman.

Before long, Panacea's eyes slowly slid closed. The stress of her captivity finally tossing her into an uneasy sleep. She drifted in and out of consciousness, keeping stock of her surroundings whenever she awoke. Each time the guard still stood at his appointed post, and each time the embers of the dying fire were less and less, until it went out completely. But there was still light. The sky above was filled with bright stars, shining down through the forest trees, illuminating the ground below.

...

It was sometime later, though how long Panacea didn't know, that a loud clang filled the quiet forest. It rang out through the night, shattering the stillness. It jerked Panacea from her restless sleep, causing her to sit up with a start, wondering what it was that she had heard. At first, she thought that perhaps she had dreamed it, but that idea was soon put to rest as more noises filled the night.

First there was a number of shouts in the direction of the Roman tents. An alarm of some sort. That was soon followed by more calls and yells, and the muffled thumping sound of people running swiftly through the forest.

Panacea noticed how her guard became more alert, pointing his spear at her, making sure she wouldn't take the opportunity to escape. He stood frowning, eyes trained upon her menacingly. Panacea had no doubt he wouldn't think twice about running her through. He took one moment to glance toward the ruckus; though only a moment. That was when a horrible though hit the young, frightened woman.

What if one of the villagers had risked trying to rescue her!

The thought brought a whole new level of fear to her heart. There was no way they'd make it! She had seen the patrols Spacious had assigned to watching the forest from every side possible. Without magic potion...her rescuer wouldn't have a prayer.

Suddenly the forest was alight with the glow of many torches. They cut through the darkness, chasing away the gloom, but bringing no comfort in its wake. Panacea stood hastily to her feet as a procession of Romans made their way into the clearing, headed by none other than Commander Spacious. As always, his face was caught up in an evil smirk, a sort of belittling smile that made one feel sick. It was as if he knew your every fear, and how to use it to his advantage.

"Ah," the fat commander began, coming to a stop in front of her, the rest of his troop assembling behind him. "I see your still here. Good." He slowly began to circle her, as if he were a hungry beast preparing to strike down his pray. Panacea didn't turn to watch him, instead focusing on keeping her face as neutral as possible. She could feel the shivers of fear traveling up and down her spine, and fought against letting them be seen. She stood as straight as an arrow, eyes fixed ahead of her. In the crowd of Roman soldiers before her, she spotted Anxious. He seemed very distressed, which only added to her apprehension. His eyes seemed to be emitting pure and unconcealable horror and regret. But why? Panacea knew the answer, but refused to accept it.

Spacious came back in front of her again, fixing her with his toothy grin. He gave the impression of a man well at ease, but the slight stiffness in his stance told of hidden hostility. "Do you remember what I told your friends at the village, Dear Woman?"

Another pang of fear, but she pushed it down. She wouldn't be baited by this monster. "No."

"Oh, that's too bad," he countered, the smile never once leaving his face. "Here, allow me to refresh your memory. I said that if they refused to surrender before the end of this week, I would kill you."

Anxious blanched visibly.

"So I recall," Panacea replied curtly. "Let me remind you that they would never surrender to you."

"Indeed. But you didn't let me finish. I also said that I would kill you if they tried to rescue you before that time come to completion."

Panacea felt a massive wave of dread wash over her, this time not being able to keep her fear hidden from her expression. Spacious caught her look and his grin became even wider. He motioned someone forward from the crowd with his large, unweathered hand and a Roman emerged, dragging a very ruffled, and very frightened, little boy by the arm.

Panacea couldn't hide her surprise as she ran forward to kneel down and take the child into her arms. "Picanmix!"

The big brute of a guard moved forward to stop her, but Spacious signaled him to remain where he was. He watched with glee as the woman checked the boy over for injuries; almost joyful in her reaction.

Panacea touched a gentle hand to the boy's face, which was far paler then she liked. Picanmix was trembling slightly, and he seemed close to tears. But he refused to cry. He wouldn't give the Romans that satisfaction. He was a Gaulish warrior. Warriors didn't cry. His face was dirty, and a number of small scratches covered his face and hands, probably from running through the underbrush. His clothes were wet with dew, as was his blonde hair, which clung to his head in clumped patches. He seemed unharmed, other than the scrapes, but Panacea knew they had other things to worry about.

Spacious came to stand by the kneeling pair, eyes lighting with a strange fire as he saw the flicker of fear that ran through both their faces. "This Gaul has broken our agreement. He came to rescue you, Dear Woman. For that, he deserves to share your fate."

Picanmix's eyes shifted between the Commander and Panacea, the full extent of those words not yet becoming clear in his mind. Panacea, on the other hand, understood completely.

"You can't!" she cried, hugging the little boy to her protectively. "He's just a child!"

The Roman cackled in agreement. "Indeed. But that matters little to me. He must have been sent by the others to free you."

"No," Panacea replied firmly. She knew that could never be the case. "They would never send a child into such danger! Never; no matter how desperate they were!" She turned to Picanmix, eyes searching his. "They didn't send you, did they?"

"No," the boy replied shakily, his face filling with shame. "I-I snuck out, when they weren't looking." His eyes shifted nervously to Spacious. "They don't know I'm gone."

"There, you see?" Panacea said, her voice betraying her desperation. "He's just -"

"Silence, Woman!"

Panacea fell silent at once, eyes wide. Spacious had never yelled at her; his voice was always low; confident. This was a voice that finally matched his lack of sanity. A chilling, unsteady shout; one that he gained control of the instant it slipped out. Once again his face was masked by that sickening smile, containing more malice than ever before, but well mastered. For now.

He directed his attention on Picanmix. "Tell me, Gaul, why did you come out here?" When the boy didn't answer the Roman's eyes glittered in rage. That was the only clue to his anger; the rest of his demeanor was calm and steady. He drew his sword and pointed it at Panacea, resting the tip of the blade just beneath her chin. "Unless you wish to be the cause of this woman's death, you will answer me."

"I wanted to save her!" Picanmix blurted out. "I wanted to be the one to fix everything! I- I wanted to save everybody...like Asterix always does." He looked down at the ground and it became harder than ever to keep those tears at bay. "I-I wanted to be like Asterix..."

Spacious sheathed his sword slowly, the smile returning back to his face. He began talking, though more to himself than anyone else. "Asterix...Mmhmm, oh, how you Gauls do look up to him...He's your little hero." He let loose a nasty, chilling laugh. Even the other Romans seemed uneasy in the Commander's presence. "He's my real opponent. My real challenge; him and that fat friend of his. Oh, but Asterix is clever. He knows how this game is played..." His eyes fell back on the two prisoners. "I think I can use your "rescue" to my advantage, Boy. Asterix has been a block to Caesar's success long enough." He laughed again, and the sound echoed through the quiet forest. "Time to teach your hero a lesson in strategy."

Panacea and Picanmix exchanged frightened glances.

This was bad.

...

Wow, sorry it's been so long, everyone! I've been so busy. But I haven't abandoned my stories, so do not fear. Here's another chapter, and I'll post another the moment I've finished it. :)