How Roman soldiers could move, never mind battle, in armor was beyond Cacofonix's understanding. The metal was restricting, making his movements slow, and clumsy. They were hot too, making them all the more uncomfortable. But that was the least of the bard's worries.

Cacofonix still found it hard to believe what he had done; what he was doing. The bard had always obeyed Getafix. In fact, of all the Gauls, Cacofonix was probably the most compliant. He hardly ever left the village for any reason, other than to go somewhere where he could sing in peace. Singing in the village was about as rebellious as he ever got. He knew it bothered the others, though he had no clue why. Personally, he thought he had a wonderful voice...or he used to.

No, can't think about that now.

Cacofonix hadn't taken the decision lightly. He had sat on his cot in the druid's hut, going over every option. His mind wandered through all the villagers, trying to think of one person; just one, that would be suitable for infiltrating the Roman camp. He couldn't think of a single one. Of all the Gauls, only Cacofonix looked enough like Anxious to pass as the Roman soldier. And Cacofonix knew it.

He had taken the armor and left quickly before anyone could discover he was missing. He had made his way to the shore behind the village, and taken a raft. Going out the front gate was too risky; he might get caught. Once he was alongside the forest, he had landed the small craft, covering it with branches and shrubs to hide it from any prying eyes. It wouldn't do to let the Romans know that there was even a remote chance of any Gauls in the woods. Not at all.

Now he was making his way through the forest. The armor was slowing him down considerably; not that he was in any hurry. Cacofonix wasn't used to being the 'daring warrior'. He was just a common, ordinary musician. He didn't go out, rescuing people and taking dangerous risks. That was Asterix and Obelix's job. But things had changed. Asterix was hurt, and Obelix was...well, just a little too tense right now; not thinking clearly.

When those who usually hold everything together start to fall apart, others have no choice but to step forward and pick up the slack.

And that was what Cacofonix was doing. He owed it to the others. They had shown him such kindness; taking care of him in his time of need. Before all this had started, Cacofonix had been beginning to wonder if he meant anything to his village at all. People often insulted him, teased him, threatened him, and even tied him to trees, gagged, so he couldn't sing. The bard had begun to think that if he left, no one would miss him. No one would care. He was nothing to them; just a burden and a bother.

How wrong he had been.

The love and care he had received from his friends still left him feeling dazed. Never in his life had he ever felt so wanted. The villagers did care. They really did. Even Fullautomatix and Unhygenix had shown the bard a whole knew side. They had saved him. Helped heal him. They all had.

He owed this to them.

The sun was beginning to edge toward the western horizon. It had taken some time to get into the woods, even with taking the raft. As the shadows lengthened, Cacofonix carefully made his way through the forest. He knew the area quite well. He often wandered the woods, singing to himself when his audience inside the village was anything less than receptive. He could navigate them without any problem, though he still looked around nervously.

Suddenly he heard voices. It couldn't be anyone other than the Romans, seeing as the woods was crawling with patrols.

Cacofonix felt his heart speed up. This wasn't going to be easy. He had two main things that he had to be extra careful about. One was his lack of voice. He'd have to try and avoid anyone he came across, if possible. If they asked questions, he wouldn't be able to answer. Another problem was his hair and mustache. First of all, Romans were typically quite dark, and Cacofonix was very fair. His hair was blond, and he knew that would be highly suspicious. In fact, that would most definitely give him away. Not to mention he had a mustache, while Romans tended to be clean shaven. If he had really thought this through, the bard could have prepared himself a little more. Find ways to look a little less...Gaulish. But it was too late now. He'd have to make do. The helmet would hopefully hide most of his hair, and if he tucked it in and kept his head down, his mustache should stay pretty much hidden. Plus it was starting to get dark. The weak light would help. Hopefully. The bard crept through the forest, still listening to the various voices that sounded uncomfortably close.

"Hey! What are you doing out here?"

Oh no...

Cacofonix turned around sharply, trying to disguise the pure terror he felt welling up inside him. There, before him was a Roman guard. He wasn't huge, but was still a good head taller than the bard. Cacofonix tilted his head away from the dwindling daylight. Giving a shrug of his shoulders, he hoped that would be sufficient enough an answer for the man. Luckily, it seemed to be.

"Your not supposed to leave your patrol group," the Roman growled, eyeing him distastfully. "Where are you assigned?"

Cacofonix shrugged, trying not to make the action seem careless or subordinate.

"Well, if you don't know, head back to the clearing!" He pointed to the left; what Cacofonix could only assume was the direction of their camp.

The bard nodded. He was relieved that he wouldn't be detained further. Giving a rather clumsy Roman salute, he quickly started in the direction the Roman had indicated.

...

BAMM!

"That idiot!" Fullautomatix banged his fist down on the wooden bedpost. "He's going to get himself killed!"

Once it had been discovered that Cacofonix had taken it upon himself to proceed with the mission, the council had once again gathered in Getafix's hut. All were terribly upset, though that was only a thin layer of emotion that covered the true issue: they were worried.

Getafix seemed equally unhappy. "He deliberately disobeyed me! He's not well enough to be out and about!" The druid shook his head. "He's going to get hurt, and we wont be there to help him! The wound on his side was quite serious, and it hasn't healed completely, despite the potion in his blood."

Anxious stood in the corner, watching as the Gauls had gone from shock, to anger, and were slowly working their way up to seriously concerned. He was upset, as were they all, that the bard had gone off and done something that was hazardous to his health. Even though the Roman really didn't know Cacofonix, since the catapult he had felt responsible for the fellow. He had felt responsible for his supposed death, and now felt responsible for endangered life. But their hands were tied. Again. They couldn't go after him, it would not only jeopardize their plan, but was likely to end in someone's death. There was only one option left.

"We'll have to go through with it."

The Gauls looked at him with disbelief. "What!?"

"We've got no choice." Anxious waved his arm out toward the direction of the gate. "It's too late to go after your friend, and this mission was our only chance. If we're going to save Panacea, and all of us, we're going to have to go through with the plan."

Unhygenix looked increasingly worried. "But-but what about Cacofonix?"

"He's taken the first step in our strategy; a step we can't take back. We can only go forward. Cacofonix will just have to hold out as long as he can." That didn't settle with the Gauls at all.

"But he's out there all alone!"

"And he's hurt!"

"What if Spacious figures out what we're trying to do?!"

"Anxious is right," Getafix spoke up over the others' cries of disapproval. "There's no turning back. Cacofonix is in trouble, yes, but he knew what he was doing when he left. The only thing we can do is what we planned to do." He looked to the Roman. "Anxious, you had better leave for Rome. We'll handle it here. There's more rafts by the shore; take one and sail until it's safe to land. And may Toutatis give you speed."

Anxious nodded, grabbing a satchel the Gauls had packed for him. "I'll be back as soon as I can...Good luck."

And with that, the Roman was gone. The Gauls were left to their end of the plan, which was looking more and more bleak by the second. Not that anyone doubted Cacofonix could get the job done; that was the farthest thing from their minds. It wasn't a question of whether the bard could do it or not; but of how far he could go before his body gave out on him.

"How will we know when Cacofonix has gotten Panacea out of the Roman camp?" Vitalstitistix asked, after a long silence.

"The plan was to give whoever went out until tomorrow morning before we launched our attack. We just have to hope Cacofonix will have been successful by that time." The druid turned to Asterix. "We need a battle strategy. Any ideas, Asterix?"

The blond Gaul was still in bed; awake and alert, but confined there all the same. Getafix had been very worried about the amount of blood Asterix has lost, and had insisted that he keep practically immobile. And Asterix hated every minute of it. He wanted to be up and helping the others; doing his part. But every time he even tried to stand, the room would feel as though it were tipping perilously to the side. He hated that lightheaded feeling it gave him; like floating. He hated it almost as much as he hated being stuck in bed. But he was getting stronger by the day. By tomorrow he was sure he'd be well enough to help more. But for the moment, he'd follow the druid's suggestion. When Getafix asked him for a battle strategy, his mind happily kicked into a familiar gear. If he couldn't get off the cot to help just yet, he'd help in a different way.

"When we're ready to attack, we should do so swiftly," the small Gaul said, thinking out loud. "Obelix should go first, seeing as he doesn't need any magic potion. I have a little left in my gourd, so that's at least two people who can actually fight."

"But what about the rest of us," Unhygenix asked. He raised an eyebrow worriedly. "There certainly isn't enough potion for us all. And I doubt two Gauls is going to intimidate them much."

"Obelix and I have attacked outposts before, just the two of us," Asterix replied, "And we were able to send them packing. Besides, it won't be just us. After Obelix and I start pummeling the Romans, the rest of you will charge out. Act like you've had potion. It will make us look stronger than we are. We'll scare them away."

Getafix frowned. "Asterix, you're not planning on leading the attack are you?"

Asterix sighed. "Getafix, I have to. If I don't, it won't have the same effect. Those Romans are still weary of us. Of Obelix and I especially. If they see us, me in particular, it will shake their belief in Spacious's lies. Seeing me, alive, should do the same thing. They think I'm dead."

"And you might end up that way," the druid grumbled disapprovingly. He knew Asterix was right, but he was still worried for his friend's health.

Asterix gave him a reassuring smile. "I'll be fine. Besides, tomorrow I'll be even better. The magic potion will give me a burst of extra strength. And I promise I'll only hit a few Romans; just to shake them up." It almost sounded like he was asking permission, but the druid new that wasn't the case. Asterix was going to go through with this no matter what Getafix thought or said.

Getafix sighed in defeat. "Very well."

The small, blond Gaul gave the druid a thankful nod then turned to the rest of the assembly. "Alright everyone, here's the plan..."

The Gauls listened attentively to Asterix, and then started preparation for the next morning. While their hope was being rekindled by the prospect of finally doing something against their enemies, a small cloud of dread enveloped them as well. They were worried about Cacofonix. They were worried that he might collapse before he could save Panacea, or that the Romans would find him out. They were worried for Panacea's life. They were worried for Anxious, travelling off to get Caesar. They were worried for their own safety as well. But hope is stronger than worry, and it outshone the cloud of dread. Hope was something they had missed terribly. Now they clung to it with both hands.

...

Cacofonix's heart was pounding in his chest. He wasn't sure if it was fear or the strain on his body this mission was causing, but it was slamming away within his rib cage like there was no tomorrow. And if he failed, there would be no tomorrow. Not for him, and not for Panacea. Maybe not for the whole village.

The woods stopped abruptly and the bard found himself in a clearing. The glen was packed with Romans, all gathering into groups to head out on patrol. The sight caused Cacofonix to freeze, momentarily forgetting that he was in disguise. He wanted to hide; run away. But Panacea and the village were counting on him. He had to go through with this. And the sooner the better. Already he could feel his body tiring; getting weaker.

Steeling himself, the bard took a deep breath and stepped out into the fray. He kept his head down, hoping the dusk would hide his fair skin and mustache. He walked swiftly, as if he were headed somewhere important. If he looked busy, the likelihood of him being stopped would be smaller. The Romans paid very little attention to him, occupied with getting out on patrol before their Commander became upset with their lack of speed in doing so. Armed to the teeth and marching in neat rows, one patrol after another left the clearing, thinning the numbers in the glen to only a dozen or so.

Cacofonix wasn't sure where the Romans might be keeping Panacea. And he wasn't about to ask for directions...even if he could. So he wandered around, trying to keep that hurried, occupied look about him. The sky above was now completely black, and the first glittering points of the stars began to blink into existence. It was beautiful, and Cacofonix wished he could have just sat back and watched the night sky, but he couldn't. He had to find Panacea.

After a while he came across a smaller clearing, attached to the main one, branching off from the larger glen. There was not much movement from within it, and Cacofonix stepped in to take a better look. What he saw made him grind to a halt.

There was only one campfire in this clearing, unlike the other, which had been full of firelight. In the dim, flickering warmth there was three figures. Two he didn't recognize. One was a huge, burly guard, who stood stiff and menacing just barely within the reach of the fire's glow. The second was a fat man, richly dressed, and wearing a nauseating smile. Cacofonix had never seen him, but the bard knew this must be Commander Spacious. It showed in the Roman's face; his cruelty; his insanity. It could be no other. Cacofonix felt a chill run up and down his spine. He suddenly felt terribly afraid. Even the air around him seemed to cool under that sickening smile.

The third figure by the fire, however, Cacofonix did recognize. She was pale and thin; her hair unbrushed and tangled, but it was her. It was Panacea. A joy spread through the bard's heart as he saw her. After a whole week of worrying about her, not even having the satisfaction the other Gauls had had of seeing her, it was like taking a fresh breath after being trapped underwater for far too long. He almost felt like lurching forward and enveloping her in a gripping embrace. But the mood in the clearing stopped him. It was dark; foreboding. Shifting behind a nearby tree before he could be spotted, the bard pressed his body against the trunk, out of sight, and listened carefully. Luckily, he could hear every word.

"I really must say," a voice drifted to Cacofonix in an almost silky voice, "I'm impressed by how long your little friends have held out." The man was talking matter-of-factly, as if it really didn't impress him in the slightest. Again Cacofonix felt that chill, and he knew the voice belonged to Spacious.

"After a whole week of starvation, and stress, and being threatened; I'd have thought they'd have given up by now," he continued with a dark chuckle. "And then there's your little friend Asterix...I'd have thought it would have been harder to kill him."

The next voice was Panacea's, angry and full of hate. "You monster! Asterix could have taken you on in a fair fight any day! Anyone in that village could!"

"Perhaps," Spacious thrummed, "But you forget...I don't fight fair." Another chuckle. "But what does it matter. Tomorrow is the deadline, Woman. They've failed you. They will either watch you die...or surrender. And I know they could never watch you die in front of their eyes. They're far to noble for that. No, they'll surrender. And I'm going to take you all to Caesar. I'll be made an official in his mighty court."

"And what will happen to me and my friends?" Panacea asked lowly, already anticipating the answer.

Spacious laughed. "Your worthless people will be sent wherever Caesar sees fit. I might even request that he give you to me. Many would make fine servants; slaves. Those who refuse to conform to my will shall be sent to the arena." His voice turned into a gleeful whisper. "And I will enjoy watching them die. To the very last man, woman, and child."

Panacea gasped, to struck with horror to reply.

The commander gave another cruel cackle. "Sleep well, Woman." The sound of footsteps approached Cacofonix's hiding place, and the bard pressed himself further against the tree. He held his breath, praying he wouldn't be seen. The Commander passed so close, Cacofonix could have reached out and touched him. And then the Commander was gone.

Cacofonix let out a shuddering breath. The only people left in the clearing now was himself, the guard, and Panacea. To his dismay, the bard could just make out the sound of soft crying.

"Be quiet," the guard growled, but Panacea kept sobbing pitifully. She had finally had enough. All the stress and terrors she had faced were starting to take their toll. She couldn't help herself. The guard took a step toward her, raising a hand as if to strike her. "I said be quiet!"

Suddenly the guard felt a tug on his arm. Turning, he found a thin soldier, hardly even coming up to his chest in height, clinging to his limb, trying to get his attention. "What do you want?" he snarled, jerking his arm away. He glared down at the smaller fellow, who took a few startled steps back.

Cacofonix wasn't sure how to answer. He couldn't answer. He had run out of hiding when he had seen the guard's aggressive motion toward Panacea, not thinking what he would do once he stopped the Roman. Now he stood with the large, angry man towering over him; asking questions. He'd have to do his best.

Trying to act casual, Cacofonix crooked a thumb over his shoulder, hoping that the motion would be enough answer to satisfy the guard.

"Eh? Oh, my turns up, is it?"

Cacofonix nodded.

"I thought this was Anxious's shift."

The bard shrugged.

"Doesn't matter, as long as I don't have to stay here any longer with this pathetic savage." The guard gave Panacea a mean glance. "Lucky for you." He left, giving the bard a threateningly suspicious glare on the way out.

Once he was gone, Cacofonix turned to Panacea. She was still crying, head placed in her hands as she wept. The bard quickly glanced around to make sure they were alone before moving forward to crouch in front of her. He stretched out a hand and lay it on her arm. She reacted by pushing him roughly away from her, causing the bard to stumble back, landing hard on his rear.

"Get away from me!" she cried angrily, "Haven't you monsters done enough?!"

Cacofonix was surprised at the force with which she had shoved him. But he really couldn't blame her. As far as she knew, he and Asterix were dead, and she and the other Gauls were out of time.

Carefully, Cacofonix removed his helmet.

Panacea's face went from intense anger to wordless shock. She stared into the face of her friend; one she had thought she would never see again. She was speechless; staring at him in utter disbelief. Coming forward she reached out and touched him gently on the arm, much like he had just done to her.

"Ca-Cacofonix?" She couldn't believe it. "Your...your alive?"

The bard gave her a smile. And she recognized that smile. It was like the sun coming out after an eternity of winter. Throwing all cation to the wind she flung herself forward, enveloping her friend in an affectionate hug. "Oh, thank Toutatis, your alive! I can't believe your alive!" She leaned back, holding him at arms length. "When I saw your tree hit by that terrible ball of fire, I thought...I thought..." She couldn't bring herself to say it, instead embracing him once more. "But it doesn't matter. You're alive!"

The bard disentangled himself from her arms and held a finger to his lips, shushing her. He helped her to her feet. Panacea thought it strange that Cacofonix hadn't spoken yet, but figured there was a reason.

"Have you come to get me out of here?" When he nodded, she asked, "How? What do we-"

"Hey!"

The two turned in horror. There, coming toward them with swift, threatening strides, was the big, burly guard. He was glaring and had his spear posed at the ready. Why he had come back into the clearing they'd never know. But that didn't matter. "You're not a Roman guard!"

They had been caught!

Panacea didn't even have time to blink before she found herself being pulled by the arm through the dark forest. She struggled to keep up with the bard as he charged headlong, holding her hand tight in his own. Behind them they could hear the bellows of soldiers sounding the alarm, and it gave them the strength to run faster. If they were caught, they would die. It was as simple as that.

It was hard to see where they were going in the dark. The only light they had was what shone down from the faint stars in the heavens. There was no moon this night, unfortunately. Trees seemed to whip by as they ran, only becoming visible to their eyes when they were almost upon them. Thorned shrubs tugged at their clothing, catching on any skin it could reach. But they didn't care. All that mattered was getting away. They were like hunted animals, leaping over stumps and ducking under low branches; frantic to escape. The forest was now alive with the sound of many soldiers. Everywhere, pinpoints of light burst forth; torches being lit by their countless pursuers.

Suddenly, Cacofonix stumbled and fell. Panacea nearly tripped over him, but she managed to stop herself in time; bending down to help him to his feet. He was panting heavily, and as she gripped him she realized he was shaking. But they couldn't stop now. Once he got his footing he took hold of her hand and continued, with Panacea watching him worriedly.

Cacofonix could feel his strength beginning to fail him. His skin felt hot, heat seeming to come off him in waves, and yet he was shivering. Great! Figures Getafix's predictions would prove themselves! He was having a relapse...and they weren't safe yet. He struggled forward, running as fast as he could. He had to get them to safety. Then his body could give out all it wanted, but at least Panacea's life would be secure.

The bard knew these woods like the back of his hand. Ever since he was a child, he had played in this forest. He knew every hiding place; every nook and cranny. And he knew where they needed to go...if he could just push himself a little harder...

There!

Slowing down, he stopped beside a very large tree. After a moment he located the entrance to a very well hidden chamber. He and a few of the other Gauls had build the hideout when they were children. They had dug it underground, intertwined beneath the roots of the mammoth timber, providing the perfect shelter. It would be nearly impossible to find, if one didn't know where to look.

Assisting Panacea down into the pit between the trunk's base, he then lowered himself, just as his legs gave out. With a pained grunt he tumbled down inside, gasping as he suddenly felt terribly dizzy.

Panacea crouched beside him, feeling around for him in the dark. She couldn't see, but she could hear. And what she heard wasn't good. Painful, ragged gasps were coming from her friend. He was hurt. She reached out, finally finding him with her fingertips. What she felt worried her further. His skin was hot to the touch. In fact, it felt like he was burning up!

"Cacofonix..." she whispered, "Cacofonix, what's wrong?" He didn't answer, and that, she knew, wasn't good. He was still shaking and wheezing; weakly taking in air. She suddenly feared that perhaps he had been injured when he fell. If he had broken something, he would need help, and soon. Feeling slightly uncomfortable, she started running her hands up and down his thin arms and legs, checking for any obvious fractures. She didn't find any. She moved to his torso, running a hand over his heaving chest and sides. That's when she found it.

She gasped, pulling her hand away suddenly from his left side. It came away covered in something...something sticky and warm...

Blood.

...

Here we go, another chapter! :) Getting close to the end now. :)