Chapter Six

Lady Fulcinia, Hermione decided, was an odd woman. She'd been so calm when Hermione had told her of her Magical Blood. She was also quiet, but had a wonderfully sarcastic sense of humour. However, she would never let her husband know that. Never. She had told Hermione that her husband expected her to be a good wife, always doing as she was told and never thinking for herself.

Hermione didn't like her husband. For obvious reasons. As they travelled along the mountains, she'd realised he was a complete prick. Always hiding with his guards and plotting things. But she didn't care about him. What bothered her was that Lady Fulcinia seemed perfectly fine with Hermione's magic.

So, she decided she would confront Fulcinia. "Fulcinia," She whispered from her horse as she rode along beside Fulcinia, who was watching her son as he spoke to some of the peasants pleasantly. The lady in question looked at Hermione with a smile. "I was wondering, why didn't you – I don't mean to sound ungrateful – but I just wanted to know why it doesn't scare you that I'm a witch?" She finally managed to ask.

Fulcinia smiled grimly. "I knew you'd ask eventually, Hermione Granger." Her voice was silky as she spoke, her brown eyes connecting with Hermione's. "I have known you are a witch since I sensed your presence. You see, dear child, I am a witch, too." She whispered back, smiling at Hermione's shocked expression.

"You are?" She asked incredulously. Fulcinia nodded. "Wow. I'd never have guessed." She grinned. "You hide it well." She remarked. Fulcinia smiled widely and spurred her horse on further to catch up with her son. Hermione smiled as she realised that her son, the future bishop, was part Wizard. Oh, the irony.

"What are you so happy about, Lady?" It was Lancelot again. He rode up beside her. "You seem to be enjoying your captivity." He remarked.

She smiled at him and he looked at her, amused. "Well, now that I'm not being tied up like an animal, I find I quite enjoy being around these people. Especially since I'm not the only witch here." She told him mysteriously. He looked at her questioningly but she shrugged and smiled.

"Wonderful." He said dryly. She chuckled beside him. "Do you like this place, Hermione?" He asked suddenly, seeming to be in deep thought about his own question.

She frowned. "Well, it's not exactly home, but it's nice. I'd like to think I'm going to go home eventually." She said, thinking of her friends and family with a slight air of sadness. How she missed them. But she couldn't go home. She had a task.

"It is quite beautiful. But you never notice these things until you're almost gone." He said. Oddly enough, she knew what he meant. "Well, I suppose we should all be grateful for what we've got... but I can't help feeling there's more out there." He gave her a pointed look and rode off to catch up with Arthur.

She sighed. Of course there was more out there. However, she couldn't help but smile as Galahad and Gawain rode up beside her. It seemed that she was going to have quite a social life today. "Hello, dear knights." She chirped. "How goes the trek?" She asked happily.

Galahad smiled as he noticed her light brown eyes alight with relaxation. She looked so peaceful and blissful that he couldn't help but smile, despite the fact that in the back of his mind he knew the Saxons were catching up fast. "The trek goes well, Lady Hermione." He responded.

Gawain inwardly sighed. His best friend had deserted him. For a witch. Of course, he hadn't really deserted him, he'd just fallen in love. Well, Gawain knew Galahad was in love. But Galahad wouldn't see it for quite some time. The way Galahad had constantly been glancing at her, with both curiosity and awe as she rode along and spoke to other people. He'd seen how Galahad had become jealous of Lancelot's conversation; though he knew his best friend would never admit it. It was there. Love. Horrible thing, Gawain thought dryly.

"Galahad," Hermione asked curiously. "Have you ever been in love?" She asked almost shyly. Her cheeks flushed a pretty pink colour and Galahad found himself staring at her. "Galahad?"

Oh, Galahad was useless. "No, he hasn't." Gawain answered for him. "Nor have I. We find no time for love. Barely even enough time for a quick romp in the haystacks." He laughed, not at his words, but the way Galahad flushed and looked over at Hermione embarrassed.

"That's you, Gawain." He grumbled. "I'm much more gentlemanly. You on the other hand," He continued cockily. "Can't seem to stick to one lass." Oh, he was trying to be noble, was he?

Gawain chuckled. "Well, I'd like to find my perfect match." This made Galahad chuckle. "Love is meant to be tried and tested. So, if I'm doing the testing, I know I'm going to find someone who is absolutely brilliant for me."

"Maybe someone who can keep you in line for once." Galahad quipped. Hermione laughed and he found he really liked the sound of it.

"And you, Galahad? What of love for you? Do you believe in it?" She asked curiously, her brown eyes locked onto his dark orbs.

He laughed, a smile making its way to his handsome face. "You, Lady Hermione, are too curious for your own good." He countered, hoping to avoid her question.

"And you are avoiding my question, Sir Galahad." She said, biting her lip playfully. That was the end of the conversation, as Hermione knew he was avoiding it for a reason, and she would let him be. For now.

They stopped for a break halfway through the day, setting up fires and tending to the wounded. Hermione set off toward the back of the group, tending to the younger children first. She found one with whip marks on his back, bruises on his cheek and a nasty gash up his arm.

"Who did this to you?" She asked him kindly, ruffling his light curls soothingly as he flinched from the contact of the cloth, cleaning the dried blood from his wounds.

He looked up at her with big blue eyes. "I was punished, m'lady." Tears filled his eyes as she pressed the healing oil into the long cuts. She gulped down her urge to pull the boy close.

"What did you do?" She was being curious again.

He turned around. "I insulted Marius. I called him a big idiot for yelling at my mama." Hermione was outraged. But she kept her rage at bay, tending to the other wounds on the child's body. Some Lord, Marius was.

She walked sadly back toward the top of the group, the weight on her shoulders feeling heavier than ever. It was so hard for those people. Constant poverty, evil lords and now they had to run from Saxons. And Hermione knew it could get worse.

There was a yell from further up. Hermione's head whipped up at the sound, her heart thudding painfully as she ran toward the source. She found it, alright.

"Let the boy go!" Arthur shouted. "Or you will die." He finished darkly.

Hermione saw Marius pale as he stood, a knife to the throat of the young boy Dagonet had adopted.

"You won't dare to kill me." He seethed, glaring at everyone. "The bishop will have your head."

Hermione gritted her teeth. "They may abide by the laws of the Bishop, but I do not. So, put down the boy, or I will kill you." She said calmly, drawing a sword from the nearest person.

"Hah! A woman, kill me? You would die before your sword rose, girl!" He sneered back.

Her jaw set, Hermione took a step forward. "Are you willing to put your life on that?" She felt the power enter her body, her hands ready to do the work, as if they had done it so many times before.

Marius laughed. "You are nothing but a worthless woman!" He spat, the knife pressing more firmly into the child's throat.

"Hermione..." Arthur warned.

"Let me do this." She looked at him, poised and ready to defend her. "Alone. It is not worth risking your freedom."

He hesitated, then nodded. "Fine, but be careful." She smiled brilliantly at him and he felt pride well within.

"So, Marius, you have two choices. You let the child go and you live. Or, you refuse and you die. Really, it's up to you." She was so calm on the outside, though panic rose from her chest.

"I would slit his throat before you even came close." He threatened.

"Oh, get over yourself." She muttered, before launching herself at him.

A guard intercepted her, his own sword drawn, but he was no match for her. In a flurry of swipes and hits, he was down. She managed to kick one of the other two in groin, causing him to fall to the ground in pain, and elbow the last one in the temple, sending him unconscious. Then she turned to Marius.

And Marius was already dead.