Someone pulled him into a dark corner. He could feel her fingers wrapped around his wrist, her laughter against his neck and a swell of affection in his heart but when he turned to get a look at her, she disappeared. Then, he was chasing a deer through a dense forest, someone else by his side complaining non-stop about the futility of it all and suggesting a break instead. He might have even called him a prat. But again, any attempt to look at his companions made them disappear into the darkness.

He awoke to people mumbling outside his door. Instinctively, he bolted up, grabbed his sword and waited, adrenaline surging through his veins.

"Are you awake yet?"

It was Amber. His fingers relaxed and he sucked in a deep breath, calming his racing heart. "I'll be down soon," he said, his voice still thick with sleep. Perched at the edge of his bed, he stretched, patted down his hair then opened the door to a smiling Amber.

"Morning!"

"Hey Amber." Absently, he ruffled her hair, causing her to duck, squeal and dash into his room.

Legs swinging, she sat on his bed. "You look funny in Dad's clothes. Mum says he used to carry me on his shoulders."

"What happened to him?" He stopped at the door, curiosity getting the better of him. He regretted the question when Amber's smile faded.

"The dawn raiders got him. He went to help the village then he didn't come back." Her smile returned. "Mum says you need to clean out the barn. She also said that you sleep too much." That Kay was about to get into trouble with the nice tavern owner seemed to make Amber far too happy. He narrowed his eyes at her then left the room without her.

Quickly, she scampered next to him. "Are you really a pirate? Do you have a boat? Will you bring me to the outer forest?"

Still groggy, he smiled wanly at her and made his way to the shared sink just outside his room. The feel of cold water on his face woke him fully up and he walked down the creaky steps with Amber who kept up a constant chatter.

"Ah, how was your night?" Muriel glanced up from behind the counter. "Amber, go collect water."

"Not too bad. Sorry I woke late."

"No problem. I'd be exhausted too if I'd hit my head, lost my memory then had to trek through the forest." A mug was slid in front of him. "Have some milk. Then I'll bring you out to the barn and you can start moving the things out."

It was hard labour and the sun blazed down but Kay enjoyed the mind-numbing repetition of the job. Muriel came out occasionally, claiming to check that he was alright but Kay suspected it was more to check that he hadn't taken her odd assortment of damaged furniture and ran.

As he heaved a broken table out of the barn, he scowled at a smirking Muriel, casually leaning against the barn.

"You could help," he shouted jokingly.

"I could but then I'd be deprived of watching you do it. Also, I believe you get free food and board in exchange?"

Kay shook his head, grinning as he made the walk back to the barn to grab another table. "Why do you keep all these anyway? With so much damaged furniture, your tavern must see a brawl every week."

"That's the next part of your job. Turning them all into firewood."

"Right."

Muriel lingered, her eyes watching him closely as he carried two broken chairs out of the barn. "So, you don't remember anything about your life?"

"No and I do wish you'll keep that quiet. Never know who you can trust."

"You can always trust a homely tavern owner."

Kay laughed. "Of course." Then softer, he asked, "And you've never seen the symbols on my sword before?"

"No. Pete, the blacksmith, came down to get some supplies and I asked him. He's never seen anything like it before." Her eyes narrowed. "I hope it isn't some druid symbols."

"Me too," he replied unthinkingly. That was pointless then. Kay had hoped the symbols were clues to his past but perhaps they were simply decorative.

"Stop brooding and get on with it," laughed Muriel, slapping him on the back, before she went back into the tavern.

Warm fingers gently applied a foul smelling ointment to the gash along his chest. He couldn't make out the words but she was speaking to him, her voice full of worry and concern. When her fingers trailed over his wound, he shuddered, not from the pain that radiated from his chest, but from something deeper, something close to desire. Then she was bandaging him, her dark curls brushing against his nose as she bent over his chest. He willed her to lift her head, desperate to know who she was.

But like every other dream he had, it faded before he could see her face, and he opened his eyes, staring up at the stained ceiling. A glance out of the window told him that the sun would be rising soon and it was his turn to milk the cows. With a quiet groan, he pushed himself out of bed. It had been two weeks since he found himself in the forest and he was still living in the spare room in the tavern but earned his keep by performing various menial jobs in the nearby village and at the tavern.

He was tugging on a shirt when he heard the familiar, impatient banging on his door. Smiling to himself, he pulled open the door. As he expected, Amber tumbled into his room and flung herself on his bed. Even before he could say anything, she was talking. He nodded and made noises at the appropriate places then shooed her out of his room.

"Mum says you're going to the village to milk cows. Can I come?"

He eyed her suspiciously, used to her conniving ways. "Don't you have chores to do?" When she failed to reply, Kay knew he was right. "Do your chores and when I get back this evening, maybe we can go for a swim in the lake, if the sun is still up."

At the bottom of the stairs, Muriel passed him a small packet and he smiled thankfully. She merely shook her head, dismissing his thanks like she did every morning. Muriel, busy hauling up mead from the basement yelled out a hearty goodbye as Kay walked out the door of the tavern.

"Are you sure I can't come with you?"

"Amber," he said warningly, biting down on the smile that threatened to break through.

She didn't hold back her grin. "I was just trying my luck." Then she scampered back into the tavern, without a look back.

The walk to the village was a short one but Kay made the most of it. In the tavern, if it wasn't Amber constantly demanding his attention, it was Muriel regaling him with stories of the various patrons, none of whom seem to recognise him from anywhere despite their wide travels. Here, as he walked along the well-trodden path, he was able to think. It was during one of these walks between the tavern and the village that he came to the tentative conclusion that he must be a mercenary of some sort. He was more than competent with a sword, owned two heavy gold rings, and his sword was of very good quality. Yet he bore no sigils of any sort which suggested that he didn't belong to any kingdom.

One of the gold rings was very clearly a wedding ring and he wondered about his wife. Was she at home, wherever that was, worrying about him? Did she think him dead? Was she coping without him? Did they have children? Each question tore at his heart a little more. Two weeks here was long enough and as much as he had grown fond of Amber, he needed to move on, find out more about himself. Only, at this point, with nothing to go on, he suspected that it was going to be a wild goose chase.

His mind was on his mysterious wife, worrying, when he heard raised, urgent voices from the village. Quiet and idyllic was the usual state of the village, not this. Edging along a farmhouse, he surveyed the main village. A rag tag group of men had rounded up the villagers in the main square while others were clearly looting the place. But what struck him was how the villagers were simply handing over their supplies to the men.

"Are you sure that's all?" snapped a burly man, brandishing his sword at the village leader, Ethel. "Your crop seems lower than usual."

Ethel looked unflinchingly at the man. "That's all. We agreed to a 80-20 split."

"I changed my mind. 90-10 and we'll not burn your fields."

"No."

Kay could see the tension in the people in the main square. These were the same people who had taken him in, treated him as family even as evasive as he was with his past. He had to do something. One hand curled around the hilt of his sword, he stepped out of his hiding place.

"What's happening?"

Ethel's shock and disapproval were clearly written on her face. "Nothing is happening. These men were just leaving," she bit out, her eyes warning him to keep out.

"Well, who do we have here? Don't believe we've seen you around." The burly man, clearly the leader of the motley bunch, swaggered towards him, sword drawn.

"Leave him alone," said Ethel but the man merely pushed her away.

Then before Kay knew it, the sword was at his throat. "I'd suggest that in future, you leave negotiations up to me and this lady here. Wouldn't want to scar that pretty face of yours."

"The name's Kay," he said as calmly as he could. "And I'm going to ask you to put your sword away."

The burly man laughed, showing his yellowed teeth, "Make me."

All it took was a quick flick of his wrist, a slight feint and their roles were reversed, the man's sword under Kay's foot as he pressed his own sword against the man's throat. "Fine," said Kay smugly. It was a risky decision and even without lifting his eyes from the burly man, Kay could sense the other bandits closing in on him. "Come any closer and I'll kill him," he said coldly.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw the movement stop.

Kay pressed the sword against the leader's throat, watching as a line of blood formed. Then with a snarl, he pulled it away. "Take your men and leave. If you come back, know that I will not hesitate to kill you." Then he smirked. "And don't think I can't take on your whole group alone." When the leader didn't move, Kay raised his voice. "Leave!"

Standing with the rest of the villagers, Kay watched as the group grabbed their loot and dashed into the forest.

"Thank you," said Ethel. "We should have at least another week's peace before they come again."

"Have they been here before?"

"Oh yes," said Rory, a young man. "We call them the dawn raiders because they always come early in the morning. They take all we can afford to give up in exchange for not harming us."

"And you let them?"

"Of course we let them. Do you think any of us can fight like you?" said Ethel, frowning at him. "We do what we can to survive and giving up part of our crop ensures we aren't slaughtered."

Anger gripped him. "You are under the protection of Camelot. Why haven't they done anything?"

"We are far from Camelot."

Kay huffed. "That doesn't mean your village shouldn't matter. Every village should matter to a king -"

"Queen. Our king is dead," pipped up Rory.

" - to a queen. Someone needs to tell them about this."

"I wish it was that easy. We can't afford to have anyone ride out to Camelot. If we're lucky, the regular knight patrol will come by in a few weeks."

Kay frowned, his displeasure at the situation clear as day on his face. "I'll ride out to Camelot," he finally said. "All I need is a horse." The moment the words left him, he realised what a good idea it was - Camelot, according to Muriel, was the largest kingdom in all of Albion. Surely someone there would recognise him.

Murmurs broke out among the gathered villagers. "We would be indebted to you if you went," said Ethel finally. "But it's a long ride and not an easy one."

He smiled, attempting to display a confidence he didn't necessarily have. But if he was a mercenary, and a successful one at that, seeing that he was still alive and wealthy enough to wear gold rings, a two day travel to Camelot should be a breeze for him. "I've survived worse."

"Thank you," said Ethel and the faith and pride in the eyes of the rest of the villagers made Kay realise he couldn't possibility let them down now.