The Return to Sarmatia 9

The Return to Sarmatia 9

Tristran sighed and repeated his thoughts out loud as Ula handed him his beloved daughter, Amage, and wrapped them both up in her arms, "She'll be back, I'm sure of it."

Tyze smiled back, placed a hand gently on his shoulder, and said, "Then you and your family will be safe from her rage as you will be in Britain by then."

Tristran raised an eyebrow in question.

Ilona snorted and signed her response quickly, "They know you will return home soon."

Aorgi nodded and said as he signed too, "Yes, even though we've only been here a short time, we've come to understand that this is only a visit, and you're not staying here."

Ula placed her head on his shoulder and said, "Come on, we need to put the children down."

Tristran nodded to his family and walked with his family to their tent in the center of their warrior's caravan.

Once there they met up with Lancelot, Emogen, and their children.

Lancelot was kissing his twins heads goodnight, and Emmy was changing Cadman's nappy. They smiled at one another and Emmy said, "Goodnight Dunham, sleep tight Amage sweetie."

Dunham wrapped Emogen up in a tiny hug, and said, "Night Auntie!"

As he hugged Lancelot, Habren, who was watching them all with a wistful smile, gasped in shock, as he ran up to her and gave her a hug as well.

He smiled up at her and said knowingly, "You looked sad! Are you happy now?"

Habren smiled gently at the boy, met the proud gazes of the other four adults in the tent, and said as she hugged him back, "Yes, I am very happy. Thank you Dunham."

A few minutes later, when Emmy and Ula had put them all to sleep and had begun to undress, Tarkan stepped inside the tent and said softly, "Lancelot, Emogen, will the two of you please come out here? There is someone I want you to meet."

Lancelot and Emogen looked at one another and Emmy shrugged.

Lancelot sighed in exhaustion, but said, "We'll be out in a minute."

With a tired groan, he pulled his shirt back on over his head and said to his wife as she shimmied the gown back down her body because she had been in the process of pulling it off to go to bed before Tarkan had arrived, "I don't believe this. This was supposed to be a vacation, and we're still being called on at all hours of the day like home."

As they exited the tent, they saw a young straight red haired young woman with golden brown eyes, and golden skin, standing beside their brother very full of life.

Tarkan smiled and said proudly, "Lance, Emmy this is the mother of my unborn child, Jessiopeia. She's from Greece originally, but she came here with her Roman Master to find more slaves; he was destroyed and she stayed here to find freedom."

Jessiopeia blushed as Lancelot smiled charmingly at her and said warmly as he placed a gentleman's kiss upon her knuckles, "Well, welcome to the family, my lady. I see the little one's birth is nearly upon us."

She smiled shyly and said softly, "Yes, he is, and I cannot wait. I've dreamt of being a mother for many years, and I have his clothes already made."

Emogen smiled, wrapped an arm around her new sister-n-law and said, "I don't doubt it. Being pregnant is one of the most pleasurable things in the world. And when it comes time to hold the baby in your arms, you'll feel a love so strongly for them, that you'd never thought possible."

Emogen tilted her head towards the tent, where Lancelot could barely hear the sounds of crying and nodded as Emogen said, "Now come, let's talk more of your baby. I'd like to see his new clothes and toys!"

Jessiopeia giggled and nodded as they vanished into another tent near King Babai's.

Tarkan looked at the empty place where his sister-n-law and lover had once stood, and then turned to his brother.

Lancelot said, "Emmy took her away because all the talk of babies will only hurt Habren more. And as her brothers, we need to comfort her now as she's just lost her husband."

Tarkan nodded in understanding as he added softly as they reentered the tent, "And she's always wanted children."

When the two brothers entered the tent, they saw their little sister sitting by Cadman's crib weeping softly into her hands so as to not wake the other children.

As they sat on either side of her, she whispered, "I never loved Melean, you know. I barely even tolerated him. But, he was a good man and a gentle man. He never touched me in ways I did not like, and he never pushed for me to join him in our marriage bed. But, no matter how hard I tried to tell myself otherwise, I COULDN'T lay with him, brothers. I just couldn't!"

Lancelot wrapped his arms around her and said softly into her hair, "I don't think he will hold this against your Habren. As you said, he was a good man."

She teared up again and said, "That's just it, he WAS a good man, and now his line is forever gone from this land as he was the last of his family."

Tarkan placed a hand on her shoulder and said with conviction, "Habren, he has no hatred of you. He wanted no children from you sister, believe me this."

Habren and Lancelot eyed him in confusion, and Tarkan laughed at their identical eyes.

He became serious again as Habren asked, "How is that possible? He was the last of his line! It was his DUTY and more importantly MINE to carry on the lineage!"

When one of the children grumbled and rolled over, Tarkan hunched down and hoped that they wouldn't wake up as he whispered, "He told me once, a year or so ago, that he feared children and was actually happy that you never went to his bed."

Lancelot asked softly, "Why would he fear children?"

Tarkan sighed and said, "His father wasn't what one would call a nice man. If I had to describe Melean's relationship with his father, I'd say that Melean was treated no better than a Roman slave. No matter what he did, it didn't please Agrim, and Melean fear he too would treat any children of his own as his father treated him."

Habren gasped and whispered, "That explains much of his personality when we were alone together."

Lancelot looked into her eyes and asked, "How so?"

Habren placed her head upon her eldest brother's shoulder and said, "Well, when we were first married, I wasn't the only one who avoided the marriage bed. I would sleep in the room designed to be the nursery room, and he'd sleep on the floor in our room. It remained that way for nearly a year. Also, whenever a new baby was born to the tribe, he'd vanish for a day or two and come back with a pack full of dead animals. I think he was killing them all to release his frustrations as he would never lift a finger to harm me."

Lancelot nodded and asked as a yawn speared through his being, "Will you be okay now Habren?"

Habren nodded and said, "Yes, I now know that both of us were to blame for our childless marriage, and even if I DID go to the marriage bed, he wouldn't have, so I'll honor his memory, but I will not mourn him and carry one with my life. And who knows, I might find true love after all."

Tarkan smiled proudly and exclaimed softly, still mindful of the sleeping children, "That's the spirit!"

Lancelot hugged her once more and said, "Get to bed Habby, you need it just as much as we do."

Habren smiled at her dreaded baby name, but hugged them both and left for her parents tent. Now that she was widowed, but still a maiden, her honor was in the hands of her father and brothers once more.

The next morning, as Zimkar slept peacefully in his parent's tent, he was forcefully awakened by a freezing cold splash of water.

"What the?!" he shouted in disarray as his hair fell into his eyes and water blurred his vision.

"Up and at 'em, baby brother! You wanted to spar with me, so let's get to it!" exclaimed Lancelot cheerfully as he tossed an extra pair of dry clothes to him.

Zimkar grumbled as he pulled on the new clothes.

But what he didn't know was that his best friend, Galatan received the same wake up call as he did.

"AAAHHHHH!! COLD!!" shouted a young man's voice as Tristran walked out of his parent's tent and strolled leisurely up into the training circle he and the other Knights had set up on their first day.

"Ah, I see our two young princes are finally awake!" exclaimed Galahad cheerfully as he and Gawain sparred.

Lancelot, who had been watching the sparring pairs of Knights, nodded and smirked as the two young men stumbled out of their parent's tents with dripped wet hair.

When they reached Tristran and him, Zimkar demanded, "What was that for?!"

Lancelot stared at his baby brother and said seriously, "Prince Zimkar Goldenmane, son of Babai Fiercegrowl, King of the Lion Tribe, you are now the heir to the Lion's Throne. You must be trained to withstand any and all enemies who wish to see your people harmed. Do you think your skills are adequate enough to defend these people as you are now??"

Tristran also said, "Can you, Prince Galatan Blackspot, son of Aorgi Bloodclaw, King of the Panther Tribe, withstand the pressures of the East with your sword?"

The two young men stood tall and they said proudly, "I can!"

Lancelot and Tristran both raised an eyebrow at their younger brother's words of pride and youthful arrogance. Then they smirked, it'd be fun to knock them down a peg or two hundred.

Zimkar and Galatan froze in fear, as their brothers 'faces' became identical smirks of evil. They gulped and knew in their hearts that Lancelot and Tristran would make them swallow those words with dirt and blood.

"Sir Anion! Sir Droven! Front and Center!" shouted Lancelot as he pulled his twin swords out of their casings.

Zimkar watched in fear as a very large man with bulging muscles, scars all along his arms, legs, and face, dirty blond hair, and black as night eyes approached and a short stout man with compacted muscles, a bald head, and bright blue eyes bowed towards his brother and his friend's brother.

"SIR!" they cried out strongly.

Tristran commanded as he, Lancelot, Gawain, and Galahad pulled off their sheaths, light arm guards, and shirts, "Sir Anion, you will spar with Zimkar and Sir Droven you will spar with my brother, Galatan. Treat them as you would any other green recruit, understood gentlemen?"

The men grinned manically and said cheerfully, "SIR, YES SIR!!"

Lancelot thrusted his swords into the moist earth, crossed his arms, and said, "What are you waiting for??"

Zimkar gripped his sword and made a thrusting sideswipe with his sword. He had a terrible premonition about this fight, and if he was right, he be going down many times today. But, if he could win, even once, against this brute of a man he was to fight, maybe he could prove his worth to Lancelot.

While hope was all good and well, it didn't make much of a difference to Lancelot. As his brother missed Anion by a good sword's length, he and Tristran turned their attentions to each other and began sparring. As each thrust was met with a parry and every swipe with a block, the two best fighters of Arthur Pendragon took command of the sparring ring. Even Gawain and Galahad, who had watched them hundreds of thousands of time before, paused their own spar to watch the two legends go head-to-head.

Galatan was a much more critical thinker than his optimistic friend. Sir Droven was NOT a man to be messed with. In fact, while it was Sir Anion that looked the most serve of the two men, Droven had a presence around him that made you pause in confronting him. His eyes had a thousand yard stare in them that reminded him of his father during his worst days of remembrance, and knew that Tristran had doomed him to fail from the very start.

As he grabbed what was left of his courage, he had an epiphany-Tristran and Lancelot have purposely made us fail to make us realize our mortality!

As the day grew older, the crowds around the four Lords of Britain grew larger and larger-with women.

Also, as the day grew older, more and more young men and older men of Sarmatia cried out either encouragement or mean jeers towards the two young princes as they once against found themselves on the ground with yet another red welt on their bodies.

"TIME!!" shouted Lancelot as he disarmed Tristran for the last time that day, and turned towards the two princes.

He had to hold in a laugh as they collapsed in moans of pain and humiliation.

When he and Tristran reached them, Tristran asked once again, "Can you, Prince Zimkar Goldenmane, son of Babai Fiercegrowl, King of the Lion Tribe, and you, Prince Galatan Blackspot, son of Aorgi Bloodclaw, King of the Panther Tribe, withstand the pressures of the Rome, the East, and the world with your swords?"

Prince Zimkar, who had grudgingly come to the same epiphany as Galatan a few hours prior, shook his head negatively and said, "No, we cannot..."

He looked beseechingly up into his eldest brother's eyes and asked sincerely, "Will you train us?"

Lancelot smiled, grabbed a wet towel full of cold water, sat down on an outcropping of hard granite, and said, "I think that can be arranged, brothers."

Malana and her daughters, who had been among the first to seat themselves around the training ring, watched with lust filled eyes and aroused bodies as they licked their lips in physical hunger and eyed the sweat drops and pure clean water run down Lancelot and Tristran's sweat soaked, chiseled bodies, and stern faces.

Athena, the oldest of the two daughters, had her eyes on Tristran. She couldn't believe how aroused she was by him. His stoic face was driving her insane with lust. She just wanted to roll her hands along his body and let him ravish her with every skill his barbarian panther body could do to her.

Areia on the other hand couldn't wait to get Lancelot alone. Instead, she stood up, rolled her skirt up a few inches to reveal her toned thirteen year old, newly womanized legs, and sat down on Lancelot's lap.

She giggled as Athena copied her actions with Tristran.

Areia wrapped her arms around the stunned Lancelot and said in what she thought was a very seductive tone, "Why don't you lose the old bat of a wife, and take a real woman to your bed, you handsome stud."

Lancelot blinked and gave a large sigh. As Areia leaned into kiss him, with what he was sure WASN'T virgin lips, he stood up and watched in disinterest as Areia fell to the ground with a plop on her backend.

Areia immediately stood up, planted her fists on her hips, and cried out, "What the hell?! What's wrong with you?! All I did was try to give you a kiss!!"

Lancelot sighed and said, "Areia, you are a pretty young lady..."

Areia smiled prettily and took a step forward.

Lancelot continued as he ignored her movements, "...but you are just a child to me. I am nearly twice your age Areia and I'm not interested in you or any OTHER girls your age. Besides, I'm very happy with my YOUNG wife."

Areia huffed, crossed her arms under her blossoming bosom, and said, "You're going to regret this! I'm the best woman here! I'm the best warrior, the best cook, the best sewer, and I have the best balance between your wife and me!"

Lancelot shook his head as Areia spun pompously on her heals and promptly fell, once again, on her backend.

Areia shrieked in anger and rage as the trainees, both Britain and Sarmatian, laughed her right out of the sparring ring.

Tristran, who had just gotten rid of Athena in the same way Lancelot had gotten, rid of Areia, said, "This is getting tiresome."

Lancelot smiled wryly and said, "Welcome to my world, old friend."

Tristran shook his head and said as he propped his hip against the granite outcropping, "You know, I used to be quite envious of you and the attention you got from the women, but now...I wish they would just leave me alone!"

Lancelot burst out laughing as Emogen and Ula arrived with their children, teasing smiles, and more importantly, to them at least, lunch!!