A/N: Hi everyone, and sorry for the late posting, but here it comes! :)

Chapter six: Scouting

After some while, it came to Leera's mind that Lucan needed something else than Dagonet's tending to be better. The poor child had a heavy fever, and she was afraid that, after retrieving the last of her kin, she would lose him to the illness.

She planted her so peculiar gaze into the giant's, and wished with her bones that he would understand. She put a hand over her cousin's forehead, and pointed to the Knight's pouch.

He nodded. "Plants. Yes."

She repeated the word, and he gave her a little dagger he used to cut down healing herbs. The fact that he trusted Leera with it made her proud.

She ruffled Lucan's hair once more, turned to Guinevere who was still silent, and escaped the cart.

The chilly air didn't make her flinch, but she reminded herself to hide her hands as she put her gloves on once again.

A horse stopped before her. Leera's gaze lifted, and she came nose to nose with Arthur.

"Leera?" She knew he wished to know why she had left the cart, and more than anything, why she had a weapon in hand.

She pointed the blade. "Plants. Lucan."

The Roman's gaze softened, and he whistled someone behind him.

To Leera's great surprise, Tristan came riding next to his leader. "Arthur?"

"Take Leera with you. She is to gather plants for the boy."

Leera's eyes met Tristan's, and as usual, a shiver came up her spine as two dark orbs made their way into her soul.

"Come."

She understood the word and climbed behind him, putting two careful hands on each side of his waist.

As much as Galahad had been careful not to be to brutal, Tristan's riding was much more...scout-like.

She could feel his body heat against her as her chest came touching his back everytime the horse made an unexpected move. His scent, strong as any man's, was of forest, rain and horse. She reminded herself she shouldn't pay attention to those things.

As they silently made their way into the woods, Leera came to watch carefully as each side of the road, until she spotted what she needed.

With a well-placed cry, she made her driver stop his mare, and she swiftly got down, blade in hand, towards the herbs.

Beside it, as fresh as the breeze, was a limb. A human limb.

And not far from it, rested the rest of its owner.

Leera swallowed and, her instincts taking back, she rested the blade firmly into her fingers.

Next to her came Tristan, his bow in hand. They exchanged a glance.

"Saxons." His eyes lightened, and Leera understood they shared a relatively common word. He slowly nodded, and pointed towards the woods. She nodded back and, as silent as a bird, ran towards a tree, climbing in it with all the dexterity of her people.

Fortunately for the Saxons, none were still close. Leera would have loved to kill one or two, though.

Her disappointment didn't come unnoticed by the Sarmatian scout, who smirked in her direction.

Leera snorted and punched his shoulder slightly. Startled by the move, he then decided to put back his poker face, and the Woad woman resumed searching for herbs.

Once she had gathered enough of them to make sure her cousin wouldn't die of fever, she came resting behind Tristan on his saddle once again.

Before he kicked his mare's sides, Leera smiled in his back, and decided to use one word she now knew from his brothers. "Slowly."

The Knight huffed, and the horse galloped even quicker than the other way round.

Arthur was happy to see them back, when Lancelot looked rather grim of Leera's appearance. She merely granted him a glare before climbing back next to Dagonet, handing him the plants.

"Thank you, Leera."

She smiled and nodded. She was beginning to like Dagonet. He was kind with her, even though she wasn't to be trusted.

Rather than grant her whole attention to her cousin, she then turned to Guinevere, her "princess", if Woads even had such.

"Guinevere." She asked softly, and when the other woman turned her tired eyes towards her, she knew she would be answering. "Are you alright?"

It took her long to answer. "No, I am not." Then her piercing gaze softened. "Who are you?"

Leera took her gloves off and showed her her tattoos. The other one glared at it, then back into her face. "I am Leera. I am an archer in your tribe. Your father has asked me to take care of the Roman Arthur."

Guinevere sneered. "You say his name as if he was filth."

Leera shook her head. "He is not. But he still is half-Roman. I can't come to trust such a man."

"And yet, you go on horse-back with one of his men, and you do not seem mistrusting."

Leera smirked in the darkness. "Tristan is their scout. He is the most dangerous of them. But he also is the only one to understand me without words."

Guinevere nodded again. "You do not speak their tongue." Leera shook her head. "Why are you dressed as a man?"

"Arthur's idea. It wouldn't have been seen correctly, I guess, if a Woad woman would have been riding with Sarmatian Knights."

The princess nodded faintly, and Leera understood that she was exhausted.

"You should rest. We will have plenty of time to discuss later."

While turning back to Lucan, Leera suddenly faced a strange feeling she hadn't felt since long. The cart seemed to small to contain her, and a sudden panic took over her heart.

Nodding to the giant, she nearly jumped out of the cart, and into the snow.

Running towards the weapon cart, she spotted her bow and quiver, ripped it from their spot, and while wrapping their comforting straps around her back, she heard a horse stop behind her.

No need for her to ask who it was.

Two dark eyes met hers, and without a word, she climbed behind him on his horse.

Tristan kicked the beast's sides, and they were off in the woods once more.