Disclaimer, I own nothing save for the characters of my own creation and this piece is merely for entertainment purposes only. With that being said, onwards and upwards!
The road took a sharp bend but Amaya could already hear the sound of battle. "Wait here." She signalled to the others then rode forwards, intent on finding the source of the commotion. They had been travelling for three days and Amaya was more than ready for a little fight. She lifted her bow then drew an arrow, guiding her mount forwards with her legs.
When she rounded the corner, she took a split second to ascertain the situation. Bandits against royal guards. Without any further hesitation, Amaya released an arrow, shooting a bandit through the head before he could spring onto a warrior's back. Most of the men wore fine armour and scarlet cloaks with a blazing gold dragon on their backs but three of them wore stranger armour, outlandish and unique. Sarmatian armour.
Loosening more arrows as Amaya cantered into the battle, she pulled on the reins, stopping her friend then dismounted with one elegant move, spinning around to stab her bow into a bandit's gut as he ran at her, doubling him over then drew an arrow, stabbing it into his back before turning and shooting it. The Sarmatian knights where not too far from her so she moved closer, shooting her way through with alarmingly accurate arrows. One was tall, the tallest man Amaya had ever seen, with closely shaved head, fine stubble around his jaw and a scar drooping over his left eye. Another had long dirty blond hair tangled into the wildest extreme, his axe bloodied raw as he spun around then frowned deeply at the cloaked figure who smoothly walked forwards, aiming arrows and letting them fly faster than Tristan, who was fighting with his curved blade close by.
Blinking himself awake he returned to the fight, keeping his concentration as the figure stopped, finding a comfortable place to simply stand and shoot their arrows. The bandits, either fallen or frightened, fled in cowering fear, racing into the trees and the royal guards made to follow. "No. Let them go." Gawain ordered then turned. His eyes widened in fear. "Dag-!" His warning shout was cut off as two arrows flew through the air and slid into the bodies of the two bandits who had leaped at Dagonet's back, silent as shadows.
Amaya shot a look to Tristan who glared at her, both their bows still raised with their strings thrumming from being so quickly drawn. Without warning a powerful force slammed into Amaya's chest as her hidden eyes locked against Tristan's. It was like two rocks colliding, fire fighting against fire, a feeling of immense ascendency that caused Amaya's heart to hammer harder and faster in her chest and her palms begin to sweat with nerves. To snap the connection she felt with this stranger she turned her head away, taking a deep breath to calm herself. Saying nothing the woman bent down and began to collect her arrows, cleaning them off before putting them back in the quiver. "You. Who are you?" Gawain demanded, lifting a blade and pointed it to Amaya who remained stooped by a fallen bandit, regarding his admittedly good looking features with a cocked head before reaching out and gently brushing the staring eyes closed. Glancing to his fellows, Gawain stepped closer but Dagonet rested a hand on his shoulder.
"He is not an enemy." The giant soothed then watched as the archer continued to collect arrows, closing the eyes of the fallen as he went. "Archer, may we know your name?"
"What is happening? Why aren't we moving?" The merchant bellowed in demand, making Amaya scowl inwardly as she turned her head back to regard her employer, allowing him to regard the scene before him in horror before going green and turning away, clutching his nose whilst waving a handkerchief at her. "Get rid of this mess, quickly!" Amaya mock bowed then slung her bow over her shoulder, bending down to pick up the arms of a bandit and began to drag him to the edge of the road out of the way.
The knights regarded the archer for a moment before Gawain and Dagonet approached the merchant. Tristan remained standing, his eyes wavering over the young man's form, finding something not quite right. Something seemed wrong with the archer's form. It was too lithe, too graceful. When the archer looked up, his features obscured by the hood and shadows Tristan quickly looked away, growling under his breath.
"My lord, where would you be travelling to?" Gawain asked the merchant who barfed slightly at the stench in the air, pungent and overwhelming to his sensitive stomach.
"Camelot, with silks, furs and jewels to trade." He answered simply, groaning against the odour as he wafted his fan before his face, trying to clear the air around him. "Those ruffians, will they come back?"
"Most likely if they see the size of your wagons." Dagonet answered. "Would you permit us to ride with you? Camelot is not much more than a few hours ride away." The merchant relaxed.
"It would bring me great peace, honourable knights. The only decent protector I have is that archer there." He gestured and all three knights turned, seeing the archer gently lift up a younger bandit and lay them down before closing their lids over their eyes.
"Who is he?"
"No idea." The man shrugged one shoulder dismissively. "Just appeared with my shipment, demanding work. No clue where he's from or even what he looks like. Gave my other men the name Amar. That's as much as I know." Curious, Dagonet nodded his head then turned, approaching the archer slowly.
"Good day." He greeted and the archer nodded his head. "Are you injured at all?" Again he was met with silence with only a shake of the hood to answer. "I wish to thank you. You are very good with your aim." Dagonet smiled softly. "Though I think you have wounded my brother's pride." Amaya lifted her head slightly and Dagonet caught a glimpse of smooth lips which were thinned by the hard set line but one corner tilted upwards in a partial smile.
He bowed his head respectfully. "I am glad to have been of use." He spoke in a seductively low voice that Dagonet blinked in slight surprise. Turning away the archer whistled and the magnificent dappled grey gelding trotted forwards, snorting in greeting. "Hello friend." The archer whispered then mounted up elegantly, guiding the horse around without even touching the reins.
With the way cleared, the wagons continued to roll forwards. Satisfied that her employer was once again on the move, Amaya turned and began to scout the path ahead, much to Tristan's distaste. He glanced to Gawain who smirked at him before turning his horse's head around and cantering the other way, checking the rear path instead.
The knights and royal guard walked or rode alongside the merchant's wagons, the man himself chatting boisterously about the horrendously tedious journey he had had so far. All the while Amaya drowned out his irritating voice by trotting at the head, keeping a careful watch of their surroundings. Then the wood peeled away, Amaya could not help but stare at the mythical castle in the distance. She pulled her mount to a stop, allowing herself time to drink in the ancient, spell binding castle with the rounded turrets, spires gleaming like beacons in the afternoon sun whilst bright scarlet flags waved on the breeze, proudly proclaiming the king's residence.
"Magnificent, isn't it?" Dagonet mused as he brought his jet black stallion to a halt beside Amaya, who nodded her head. "Will you stay long in Camelot or move on?"
"It depends." Amaya answered in her low voice. "If I find who it is I seek." Without another word she pushed forwards, wanting nothing more than to simply gallop away through the gates and start her search for her younger brother. She hoped he remembered her, prayed that she would recognise him other than by name.
The distance seemed to only stretch further and further away from Amaya though they were in fact moving closer. She couldn't stand the tension and time she was wasting on this pompous merchant. However, after what felt like an age, the gates swung open and the knights led the travellers into the city, which was bustling with life.
With words of farewell, the men pulled away from the merchant, who bade them send their woman to him for the finest cloths and jewels a lady could wish for. Dagonet stopped by Amaya, who kept her head lowered but acknowledged him with a nod. "I hope we shall meet again, Amar." Again the woman nodded her head and thankfully, Dagonet did not take offence as he trotted after his fellows.
The moment the merchant had reached his shop in the main market, Amaya stood before him, squaring her shoulders. "Payment. Now." She commanded in a rough tone, gritting her teeth as she forced herself to wait. "Or your blood will turn those pretty white silks red." Squeaking he nodded his head then drew out a purse, tossing it to Amaya who caught it then felt the weight. It was roughly right so she did not argue. "I want the horse."
"Pardon?" The merchant chocked on the wine he had taken a sip of. "The horse?"
"The gelding." She nodded her head. "I'll buy him for ten pieces."
"Ten? He's worth far more than…"
"Ten pieces." Amaya growled once again, taking an intimidating step forwards. "Without the saddle. You can keep that worthless leather sack." Sighing in defeat, the merchant agreed.
"Take the worthless mule, he's no good for anything but fetching and carrying. Let him carry you, if you wish." Smirking under her hood Amaya fished out the coins then planted them into the man's outstretched hands, who hastily began to count them. His loss, he obviously did not know a prize horse when he saw one. This horse was worth at least a hundred pieces. Continuing her sly smirk Amaya unbuckled the girth then let the saddle drop to the floor, discarding it carelessly as she shouldered her pack.
"So you'd be off then." Garett said to Amaya who nodded. "Nice travelling with you."
"And you. Farewell." Amaya murmured then pulled her new horse forwards gently by the reins, guiding him through the streets. She left the repulsive merchant behind and returned to the point where the knights had broken off from their company, turning back up the street and began to follow their path.
When the crowds began to grow too thick for comfort and her horse began to shy away and snort in fear, Amaya hushed him with gentle Sarmatian words then mounted up, barking out an order for people to move before pushing her way through. Instantly the crowds parted, allowing her to break through them in a proud trot, easily keeping her seat despite the lack of a saddle. She would have one custom made for her new horse as soon as she could.
Now, what to name him? All the way from the port she had addressed him as friend, so perhaps she should honour this christening. Thinking deeply, she settled on the name Arluin, which meant 'noble friend' but also 'noble warrior' in some places, which suited her new companion perfectly.
"Well Arluin, take me to my brother. We have been parted long enough." Her mount snorted in reply, lifting his head a little higher, arching his already gloriously noble neck. Amaya stopped to ask directions to the knights' quarters and they directed her to their barracks just inside the castle courtyard. Frowning slightly she wondered if she would be permitted inside.
Undeterred, Amaya rode boldly up to the open gates where four guards stood out front on the other side of the small bridge which allowed people to cross over the moat that surrounded the castle. "Halt." They ordered so the woman obeyed, gently easing Arluin to a stop where he stood perfectly still and patient as one of the guards stepped forwards, scowling up at her. "What business do you have with the king?"
"None." She answered simply. "I have business with one of the knights." The guard snorted then shoved at Arluin's nose, pushing him back with a small noise like a whimper. Instantly Amaya was enraged. How dare he touch her horse? He was lucky she did not have a weapon suitable for separating his hand from his arm, otherwise he would have lost both for such an offence.
"We have no time for paupers like you. Off with you now, before you try my patience and we throw you into a cell and have your mule sliced up for the king's evening meal." Keeping a calm and quiet demeanour, Amaya turned her head then guided Arluin around, taking a deep breath as she walked him away. As the guard turned around, she spun Arluin around quickly then urged him forwards.
Without warning the lithe horse sprung forwards, cantering through the first guard and knocked him down, his cry of alarm lost to Amaya as she focused on the next three guards. She kicked one down, slamming him back into the second as Arluin smartly picked up his feet and jumped, leaning forwards to gracefully fly over them, landing neatly over them then cantered into the courtyard where Amaya steered him towards the grand steps. "Stop! Stop that boy!" Boy? They saw her as a boy? How quaint.
Amaya, paying the guards no heed, leaned forwards as Arluin climbed the steps, bounding up then shot towards the grand doors as they opened, a pair of ladies walking out arm in arm who then screamed as the large horse shot towards them, leaping out the way. Amaya hid a laugh as Arluin's hooves clattered against the stone, her legs and hands guiding him through the corridor then rode through the large greeting hall then pulled him to a stop, noticing the large oaken doors to her right. Hearing the rushing sound of running guards, their mail clattering, Amaya turned to face the doors then urged her restless mount forwards, who snorted proudly then lifted up onto his hind legs and struck the doors with his powerful hooves.
The doors burst open and Amaya trotted inside, Arluin announcing their arrival loudly as the courtiers cried out in alarm and the king jumped to his feet, his men instantly drawing their blades to stand in front of him and his queen, who dropped her mouth in shock as Amaya approached.
Women and well-dressed men pressed themselves into the walls. Amaya saw the twin thrones made of fine mahogany, tapestries hanging behind them with bright colours as light filtered in through the wide windows. With guards slowly catching up with her, Amaya scanned the faces of the knights. Her eyes fixed on one.
Slowly she turned her head pointedly towards him and his eyes widened at the menacing figure who looked at him with a cold look, making him shiver. Slowly Amaya dismounted, patting Arluin's neck as she approached the young knight, who reminded her painfully of her father. His black curls rested softly against his brow just like they had done when he was younger. Amaya had spent many hours playing carefully with his hair, running his curls through her fingers until the soft motion had sent him to sleep.
The other knights watched in confusion, wondering why their brother was the sole aim of the intruder and not the king or queen. Amaya stopped when she stood directly in front of him, struggling to keep herself together. She would not reveal herself to him, not until she was composed, though as the guards rushed in, armed to the teeth, she knew she had a few seconds at most.
Slowly she lifted her hands and gripped her hood, drawing it back to reveal her face. Instantly everyone gasped when they saw the feminine features and long raven hair which curled wildly into a plait she had tamed it into and tied off with a ribbon. Deep magnetic blue eyes gazed into Galahad's lighter shaded orbs, rimmed with thick lashes as a small smile tugged at her lips. He frowned in confusion, the familiar features prodding at his memory. Tristan could only stare in shock though he masterfully kept the expression from reaching anywhere but his eyes. The damned archer was a woman? Now his pride stung further, making him scowl at the admittedly attractive female who stood before the youngest of all the knights.
"How are you little wolf?" Amaya asked him softly in their native tongue, praying he understood her. At the sound of their native tongue, some of the knights' eyes widened as their jaws went slack. Galahad's face continued to remain blank. With a sigh she lowered her head, closing her eyes briefly. He had forgotten her. Armoured hands grabbed her arms and shoulders, yanking her back and Amaya shot them a look but when one roughly manhandled Arluin, she snarled. "Unhand my horse you bastard!" One of the knights snorted with laughter. Clenching her fists Amaya struggled, turning back to Galahad. "Galahad, I won't expect you to remember me, it has been seventeen years but…"
"Amaya." He suddenly looked up, eyes widening. Amaya's breath caught in her throat. Suddenly Galahad's eyes narrowed. "Let her go!" He bellowed, thrusting his sword forwards and the guards holding his sister instantly backed away. Immediately Amaya turned with a balled fist and slammed it into a guard's face, the one who was roughly holding down her horse. She snarled at him. "No one touches a Sarmatian's horse. You'd better learn that lesson fast." He scrambled away from her as she approached, catching Arluin's reins then began to speak softly. "Easy now my friend, be appeased. Calm down, calm down…" Hearing the lilting, melodic sound of her voice, Arluin calmed down, going still as she stroked his nose, listening to his deep breaths.
"Amaya? Is that really you?" Galahad breathed and Amaya spun around, opening her arms and Galahad pulled her to him, embracing her tightly as he exhaled, desperately trying not to weep for joy. The onlookers watched, completely baffled by the spectacle.
"Galahad, care to introduce us?" Arthur asked politely but still continued to frown, one hand holding Guinevere's warily. Spinning around, Galahad beamed brightly.
"This is my sister, Amaya!" Amaya bowed her head.
"I apologise for the intrusion but the idiots posted outside your gates did not believe that I had some unfinished business with one of your men." She shot a look to Galahad, placing her hands on her hips. "One who thought it a good idea not to inform his family of his decision to stay in this god dammed country." The same knight as before laughed, grinning as he stepped forwards.
"Sister eh?" Bors regarded Amaya, taking in her strong stature and level gaze as she watched him. "She's Sarmatian." He decided. "Though one of the prettier ones."
"I agree." Lancelot purred but Galahad instantly stood in front of his sister.
"You stay well away from her or I'll cut off your pride." Amaya rolled her eyes.
"I doubt it would be worth the effort, little wolf, there doesn't appear to be much there." Suddenly the entire court was laughing and Amaya turned her eyes away from the grinning, darkly handsome man to attend to her horse, who was looking around worriedly with pricked ears. "Now then, my friend. Now that our little adventure is finished, let's find you a new saddle and a stall, shall we?" She murmured under the laughter.
"You can place him in our stables." Galahad gushed, placing his hand on Amaya's shoulder, unable to keep from grinning. "Then you can join us for evening meal and we'll find you a room to stay. Right Arthur?" Galahad turned and the king nodded his head.
"Any kin of my sworn brothers is welcome here." Amaya paused, thinking for a moment before nodding her head.
"I'd be grateful for the hospitality." Taking Arluin's reins she bowed to the king, which made the ladies of the court laugh in mockery at her gesture but Amaya paid them no heed, turning around and walked her horse out of the hall with Galahad striding by her side.
"What are you doing here in Briton? I'm so glad to see you, sister, but I did not think you would cross an entire ocean just to find me."
"I went to Rome first." She answered nonchalantly, keeping her head held high. "Bribed your location out of some powerful lord then worked my way over. For a long time I was trapped in Gaul, unable to sail across until I found a merchant's ship to board and posed as a boy." She explained further. "Then I rode with the merchant's shipment as an archer then made my way here to Camelot." Galahad frowned.
"But why are you here?" Amaya stopped, her step faltering before she continued on, tight lipped.
"Everyone is dead or gone, Galahad." His eyes widened.
"What do you mean? What happened? Where are mother and father?"
"Father was taken by illness, a winter fever along with most of the men and children. We scattered into different tribes to survive and then mother died last year from a similar sickness." Amaya looked to her brother as they descended the steps. "You are all I have left, Galahad, just as I am all that's left of your blood. I had to find you. The only place for me now is by your side." Galahad rested his hand on Amaya's shoulder as she lowered her head. She glanced to him and marvelled how much he had grown.
He had always been such a small, sickly boy in his infancy. The other boys would bully and tease him for his small size and it was always Amaya he would run to for protection. Now he stood at least four inches taller than her with a strong build, athletic and healthy looking. "I am sorry, I am sorry I did not come back." Galahad murmured, looking down in shame. "But after the battle against the Saxons we knew that our hearts truly lay here with Arthur, who needed us. I was always intending to come home, Amaya. I swear I did not intend to abandon you."
"I know, little wolf." Amaya told him softly, looking up as they entered the stables. At the sight of so many fine horses, Amaya's spirits lifted. A stableman stepped forwards and bowed his head to her.
"Milady, Galahad."
"Jols, this is my older sister Amaya." Galahad introduced proudly, smiling down to Amaya who bowed her head to Jols. "Is there room for one more in your fine household?"
"Always, sir, always." Jols nodded his head. "Right this way." Stepping forwards Arluin followed my lead, lifting his nose to sniff the air and curiously inspect the other horses. As he stepped past the noble horses belonging to the knights, he lifted his head and feet, walking proudly forwards. "You little show off." Amaya murmured affectionately as Jols led us around a corner to meet another long line of stalls, one of which he opened the doors and the woman led Arluin inside. She took off his bridle then inspected it closely, frowning before tossing it over a hook. "It shall do until I can buy another."
"I shall have the farrier and tanner come." Jols informed her and she nodded.
"Tell them to direct their payments to me. Only to me." Amaya added as Galahad opened his mouth to argue. "I have coin a plenty." Taking a sponge Amaya began to rub Arluin down, listening to his steady breathing as she rid him of all the sweat then sought out a brush, comb and hoof pick to tackle the mud from his coat and hooves. Galahad shifted, unsure of what to say.
"How have you been?"
"Well enough." Amaya answered, brushing through the coat carefully, not missing a single hair. Galahad found another brush then joined her, Arluin enjoying the attention he was receiving. "And you? You did well to live through the ordeal." She said to him, glancing up. "In all honesty, I did not think I would ever see you again." Galahad chuckled.
"I was rather scrawny, wasn't I?"
"You were always my little wolf. Small with a big bite." Both smiling Amaya sighed, rubbing her face into her sleeve. "Things changed after you left. Father became cold and distant. He used to train me every day from dawn till dusk to use weapons." Galahad arched an eyebrow. "He would cut my hair short and pretend I was his son. Sometimes he even called me by your name and I would have to answer or he would become angry." Lowering his gaze Galahad sought for a suitable answer.
"I'm sorry."
"Sorry? Don't be sorry, Galahad. It was not your fault our father could not deal with losing you." Amaya clenched her fists tightly until her knuckles turned white, pressing her eyes tightly shut as she felt the scar on her back burn brightly at the memory of the day Galahad was taken. "I just wish I had fought harder to hide you. To protect you."
"You took a blade for me, Maya, I remember now." Galahad whispered then growled in anger. "I hate their kind. Brutal men who take joy from drawing blood."
"Sound like someone else we know?" Both Amaya and Galahad looked up to Lancelot as he leaned against the door, hands hanging over the side as he smirked. Amaya frowned at him.
"Who do you mean?"
"Why, our bloodthirsty scout, of course." Lancelot explained with a playful glint in his eyes. "He lives for battle, for the pleasure of taking lives by sword or by arrow. It is who he is. Some say that he drinks the blood of his enemies in the dead of night and when there are no battles or enemies to fight, he goes into the darkest part of the woods to slaughter animals as a subsequent." Arching her eyebrow Amaya turned her back to the knight.
"You are lying."
"Am I? How can you know?" He challenged smoothly but Amaya merely shrugged.
"Your mouth twitched." Lancelot blinked then frowned as Galahad smirked, glancing to his sister with pride as she combed through her horse's mane, gently untangling the knots. Galahad tossed his brush away then leaned back, regarding Amaya quietly.
"You've grown into a fine woman, Maya. Do you look like mother used to?" Amaya's brushing stopped, freezing in place before she turned.
"Galahad, how much do you remember exactly?" He blushed and looked down.
"Not a lot. I cannot remember our parents or much of my childhood. You I remember though, now that I've seen you. I can remember our games and your stories." Arching an eyebrow the woman sighed, crossing her arms.
"You look much like our father, except he was taller and broader. Mother was brown haired with dark eyes, though I do bare some small resemblance to her, she had wider lips, smaller eyes and had a tendency to burst into tears at any given moment for no reason at all." Galahad thought back, trying to piece together an image. When all he could see was a faint blur, he shook his head. Turning back, Amaya continued to brush Arluin's mane.
"So, my lady. Guinevere has already found a room for you here in this castle and invites you to change into a dress before dinner." Amaya did not answer for a moment, continuing to see to Arluin's stubborn tangles.
"I do not own a dress." She said finally, making Lancelot laugh.
"I shall speak to Vanora then, perhaps she could loan you one."
"And I shall stay only one night." Instantly Galahad was on his feet.
"What? What do you mean? You can't leave! You only just got here!" He reached out and gripped Amaya's arm but she sent him a calming smile.
"I am not going anywhere, Galahad. However, I do intend to earn my keep. If there is a vacancy, I shall find a job as a maid either here or somewhere else. If no such job can be made available then I shall seek a different occupation and a room in the town." Galahad frowned.
"But you are my sister. We can take care of you here, you don't have to earn your keep. You can just simply live here in luxury!"
"And how entertained I shall be." Amaya replied dryly. "No, I shall work. Life is never that easy, Galahad. Surely you must know that?" Reluctantly he nodded his head.
"Alright. So long as you promise to remain close. I don't want to lose sight of you for one second." Chuckling, Amaya reached forwards and kissed her brother's cheek.
"Little wolf, if I wanted to disappear, I would be gone before you could even blink." She told him. "Go on, go fancy yourself up before dinner. I shall be along once I am finished here." Smiling Galahad returned Amaya's kiss then left her to the peace and quiet she had silently asked for. Now alone, Amaya focused on cleaning up her horse's coat and mane. "You don't half roll through the mud, Arluin." She said to him, half grunting as she brushed vigorously. "I am now forbidding you to roll in the mud for at least four days. I do not want to have to fight a constant battle with your dirty coat, my friend."
"You speak to him as if he understands you." Amaya spun around, staring at the scout who just looked at her simply, carrying a bucket of feed but simply watched her without any expression on his passive face at all. She blinked at him then turned back around, swallowing slowly before answering as the odd feeling in her chest returned.
"You remember the language?"
"I never forgot." He returned then opened the door, lifting the bucket. "For your friend." The moment the meal was set down Arluin buried his nose into its depths, lapping up the mash hungrily as the woman ran her hand over his steadily becoming glossy coat.
"He needs to gain weight." She mused. "He is too thin."
"Jols will take care of him." Amaya shot him a dark look.
"I shall take care of him. A Sarmatian's horse is their own responsibility." Lifting her chin Amaya returned to combing through Arluin's mane. Tristan watched her for a moment, frowning ever so slightly before stepping forwards. He took the comb and plucked it from her fingers, making her scowl at him as he began to comb from the bottom.
"It is easier to draw out the knots if you start from the bottom." He said to her, the language flowing smoothly off his tongue. Amaya snatched the comb back then stubbornly continued the way she had been doing it before. Tristan said nothing as he stepped back and turned. "You have an hour before the evening meal. We meet in the round chamber." With that he was gone, bolting the door behind him. Amaya stilled her combing, biting her lip as she slowly turned her head to watch him leave, striding quietly away. Looking aback she frowned at Arluin's mane before taking it between her fingers with one hand then slowly began to comb from the bottom, working her way upwards until a long flowing mane rippled before her, which she braided neatly, slowly smirking as she stepped back to admire her handiwork.