This chapter gets a bit heavy, so be forewarned, but I wanted you to all better understand a bit more on Charlotte's past with Pelagius, Bishop Germanus, and her panic attacks.

Hopefully you don't mind a flashback being followed by another flashback, but it's just the way it had to be. We are getting to the thick of things now and it'll help if you know where Charlotte is coming from. For those hoping for some more Sarmatian fun, you'll just have to wait.

All of your kind words have been amazing, so thank you to those who have reviewed my helpless attempts at storytelling. I appreciate everyone who is reading this so thank you.

Also, for those who may wonder what 'garum' is (you'll see it pop up in this chapter), its a Roman fish sauce that was basically ketchup back in the day. Apparently Romans loved the stuff, so much that we are still to this day finding amphoras full of it amongst the ruins. It doesn't sound appetizing but it was one of Rome's greatest exports. Maybe it wasn't bad... Who knows.

Anyway, historical tangent aside, here we go again.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE CHARACTERS OR PLOT LINES AS DEPICTED IN THE 2004 FILM 'KING ARTHUR' BY ANTOINE FUQUA. THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION DEDICATED TO THE HARD WORK AND EFFORT PUT FORWARD BY THOSE WHO WORKED ON THE FILM. THE ONLY CHARACTER I OWN IS CHARLOTTE.

Sipping on his favourite wine, Pelagius smiled at me as I attempted rather poorly to repeat the sentence he had given me to practice. My Latin was still abysmal, but he regarded me with a fatherly sort of indulgence as I dragged out each syllable carefully in an attempt to copy him.

"The rain is…I mean, in…Spain falls mainingly on the plains…"

"Close however it is 'mainly', not 'mainingly'."

I let out a low groan and pinched the bridge of my nose.

"I thought Latin was the root of English…" I groused, flipping back to my mother tongue. "Shouldn't it be easier for us? It's not like we are trying to learn ancient Egyptian. Our alphabet is the same alphabet!"

Pelagius chortled.

This had been a common argument from me since he had taken it upon himself to teach me the ancient language and while I could read no problem (since the letters and sounds were the same) what I was actually reading aloud stubbornly remained a mystery.

Speaking Latin was far more difficult than I had realized, even with my medical background which Pelagius found amusing did not help in the slightest. I now knew that while I knew the Latin term for different diseases, it did not help me.

"Well darling, I believe that English is technically an amalgamation of several languages. Latin, French, ancient Norse, maybe even some Briton…if it was a direct descendent of Latin, then this would be a piece of cake for us. Trust me my dear, it took me years before I could hold an actual conversation and I'd taken Latin during my school days."

He took another sip of his wine as he mused aloud.

"It probably didn't help that I'm Australian so my accent was probably quite frightening during those early days but I think modern scholars missed some of the more colloquial ways in which the Romans use the language. Not all Latin speakers speak the way the language appears on paper."

"That doesn't bode well for me. I'm American - no one likes our accent. It'll be years before I can say hello without sounding strange."

"As you continually remind me. I think it's fine. You have time."

I rolled my eyes with a huff, running a hand through my hair. It was still a strange colour given that my light roots were beginning to outgrow the dark dye that had faded into a muddy brown at the tips. My hair now hung near my shoulders but I tied it up with a headscarf to keep it out of my face most days.

If my inability to speak Latin confused those in Pelagius' household, my two-toned hair only made the other servants avoid me more. I was like a leper, remaining inside Pelagius' villa in solitude for most of my days. I was certain that the servants believed I was some sort of pet-project of Pelagius', or his secret young mistress, but Pelagius' kindness meant that they kept their opinions to themselves.

It had been nearly six months since I had arrived in ancient Rome, and it still frightened me to step beyond the borders of the small villa. Everything was different; the way people dressed, the things they ate, even just the way they acted.

The few times I had been dragged to the city centre to help with errands, I had nearly fainted due to the overwhelming strangeness that seemed to infuse the city. I had slowly grown somewhat accustomed to some elements of daily Roman life, but most times I struggled.

The only thing that kept me sane was Pelagius.

Or rather, as I found out, Phillip Xavier Yeoman.

Pelagius' revelation that he was in fact an Australian lawyer from 1987 was the only thing that kept me from falling apart. Once he had bought me from the slave house, Pelagius had quietly explained that he too was from the future and had been living in the 5th century for over 40 years.

As a result, Pelagius was an expert on all things Roman and tasked himself in getting me up to speed on ancient customs in a way he had not been able to. While I had Pelagius, when he arrived he had had no one to guide him. He shared that he had struggled in his early years, living as a sort of pariah in a village outside modern-day Florence until he found his feet with the Church. And since then, he had developed a role for himself amongst the Roman elite at the heart of the capital.

I was convinced we were in purgatory, but Pelagius assured me (given the amount of time he had been trapped here) that it was indeed ancient Rome and by some trick of fate, we had pulled backwards through time.

Why, he didn't know. But Pelagius was a highly religious man, so to him, this was merely a trial set forth by God that he was destined overcome.

We sat out in the courtyard of his small villa, with the spring breeze wafting through the open walls. It was by far my favourite place in the entire home. The smell of the flowers that creeped over the white-washed walls along with the large votive fountain that rose from the middle of the yard, soothed my frayed nerves.

The night sky fell stretched above us like a tapestry.

"You're getting better," Pelagius assured kindly. "By this time, I didn't even know how to say thank you. It will take time, darling, but you are leagues ahead of where I was and you've only been here six months. You're a quick study."

I focused my attention up at the night sky. The stars no longer comforted me as they once did in my childhood. The stars I had grown up with, were younger and different.

I sighed again.

"Can we take a break tonight? I don't know if I can keep going over these sentences. I feel like I'm just making the same mistakes over and over."

"If you wish," Pelagius said kindly. He handed me a bowl of fruit which I took thankfully. I popped a grape into my mouth. It was fresh and sweet, but not the sort of late-night snack I would have usually gone for.

"You know what I miss?" I announced, plucking another grape from the bowl. "Snickers… Of all the things I miss from home, other than the obvious, I crave Snickers just all the time."

"For me it's apple pie," Pelagius mused with a grin. "I used to always have it for dessert. With ice cream and salted pecans."

I hummed at the thought of apple pie and groaned. I stuffed another grape into my mouth to distract myself.

"Do you think if we could find sugar, flour, some spices, we could make it? Just create apple pie a few centuries too early…That wouldn't hurt anyone, right?"

Pelagius grinned in amusement but nodded his head in thought. The wrinkles around his eyes crinkled in mirth.

"Ah yes, the space-time continuum… broken by the Roman invention of apple pie."

"It's possible," I argued, shrugging my shoulders. "Don't you think we have already caused some sort of butterfly effect by just being here?"

"I hardly think that movie is the best source of information to base your theories on time-travel on," Pelagius quipped, remembering the time I tried to explain the plot of the Ashton Kutcher movie. "And besides, God wouldn't have placed us here unless he had a reason."

I found my lips tighten at the familiar expression, my hand hesitating over the bowl of fruit for just a second. While Pelagius was confident in his convictions, I still held reservations that this was all some sort of spiritual phenomenon.

If God had sent me here for a reason, then I had not yet seen the religious significance of why it had to be me.

Pelagius must have noticed my bitter expression because his lips twitched at the sides. He inclined his head to the side, giving me a kind look.

"Would you rather believe that this is all due to some cosmic coincidence instead? Is that more comforting to you?"

"I don't know what I want to believe," I replied. Pelagius was never dismissive of my lack of Christian faith. Instead, he respected that I had different beliefs and often asked me about my own thoughts.

I lay down on the stone bench I was on so that I could look up at the unfamiliar stars. Staring up at the sky, I let out a deep breath.

"Nothing is comforting to me because the fact of the matter is, I don't want to be here."

"You are still new to this time," Pelagius soothed in a common phrase I had heard several times over. "It is natural to feel that way. It will become easier."

"What if I don't want it to become easier?" I stated back in quiet thought. I rolled my conflicting feelings through me before speaking again. "It feels like the more I try to adjust to this time, the more I feel myself slowly giving up hope that I will one day just be back – appearing in a carpark in the middle of February as if nothing had happened and all of this was just a weird nightmare. Present company not included."

Pelagius smiled lightly but did not seem bothered by my comments. He had had the same fears and understood the uncertainty I felt. But 40 years was a long time and Pelagius had lived in this era longer than he had in the future, so he no longer felt quite as strongly the same clawing despair that threatened to take over me.

"You must keep faith, Charlotte and hold fast to that hope. It's all we can do."

"But how do you keep faith when you don't know when you will go home?" I asked for what felt like the hundredth time. Pelagius merely waved his hands around in a helpless manner.

"It's not a science. But each day I thank God for being given this opportunity to see things that I would have never seen before. It would be far too easy if God simply gave me a Latin dictionary and note that stated, 'Phil, this is what you need to do.'. All we can do is have faith that there is a reason and trust one day we will find out why."

I let out sigh but Pelagius chuckled, adding with a laugh, "Besides, if I hadn't been brought to the past, I wouldn't have met you, my darling girl. And that would have been a travesty."

Pelagius had a dry sense of humor but his kindness was what drew people to him. He spoke like a man twenty years younger, with passion and fire in his eyes, but still held a wisdom that could only be obtained from years of life. His presence alone made it easier to adjust to the era and I was forever thankful that he had found me.

I often wondered what would have happened if he had not noticed me yelling from the confines of the slave wagon the first day I was brought into Rome. I didn't like to dwell on those thoughts too long.

I turned my head away from the stars so that I could look at him, my eyes sincere.

"I'm happy I met you, Pelagius. Truly. If I did believe in God, then I would confidently say you were God sent. I don't know what I would do without you."

"And I you Charlotte," Pelagius smiled. His wizen white brow quirked upwards slightly as he waved to the table in front of us. "Now darling, would you indulge this old man in sharing the rest of this wonderful wine and explaining again how it's possible that Bruce Willis is now a Hollywood action star in 2004. It boggles the mind."

I laughed, the noise echoing across the courtyard as Pelagius poured each of us another glass of wine. I lifted myself up from the bench and gladly accepted the cup.

Pelagius had been at one time quite the movie buff, and found early 2000s cinema particularly fascinating. Unlike how much of a workaholic I had been in the past, Pelagius had balanced his time between his work at a human rights lawyer in Sydney and life at home with his family. His stories about his past, filled with anecdotes about friends and family, made me wish I had done a better job in my own life balancing things when I went to medical school, but hindsight was always 20/20.

So, as way to remember our lives in the future, Pelagius had taken to having me describe different movies and television shows that had aired since he had been away. It was the sort of normalcy I craved, and I reveled in the times we spent sharing stories.

A few minutes later, Lucretia, the head servant in Pelagius' small villa and a freed woman, strolled into the open courtyard. Her tight braids cascaded down her back elegantly, revealing high cheekbones.

Though he abhorred slavery given the work he had done as a lawyer, Pelagius employed a handful of freed men and women to keep his household running. Most were couples, something Pelagius actively sought as it allowed married couples to stay together. Lucretia's husband, a large man named Orion, worked as our cook.

"Master Pelagius. A message for you," she said, my ears perking at the words. I understood them well enough.

When not travelling the continent, Pelagius enjoyed the luxury of being a well-respected scholar and clergymen amongst the Roman elite which entailed he lived a certain lifestyle. Though he never said anything, I was well aware of how much he pained him to see those in his household refer to him as 'Master'.

Lucretia nodded her head in greeting at me before holding out a missive. It was late to receive such a note and my eyes flicked nervously to Pelagius.

Please let this not be another request for my services…

Sensing my unease, Pelagius gave me a reassuring smile before he turned and spoke in Latin to Lucretia. His face remained pleasant and unchanging as he read the note, which made it difficult to tell what he was thinking. Lucretia ducked back into the interior of the villa, while I waited patiently for an explanation.

"It is a message for me, darling. Not you this time," Pelagius replied, a small smile on his lips when I let out a low breath of relief. "It seems the Holy Court is holding an urgent assembly meeting tomorrow. As much as I don't enjoy them, I am obligated to attend for an hour so don't fret. There is no walking wounded about to march through our doors tonight."

"Thank god…" I murmured under my breath.

When a friend of Pelagius' had visited for dinner three months ago, the man had shared that his young son was extremely sick. Plagued with an unknown illness, the Roman physicians had no idea what to do for the sick boy and his parents were becoming desperate. Pelagius asked me privately later for my advice, requesting if there was a way I could help his dear friend.

I had been reluctant, since I was nothing more than a resident and not a licensed doctor, but I felt obligated to Pelagius for everything he had done and continued to do for me. So I agreed under the promise that Pelagius would not tell anyone else that I had some sort of medical knowledge and he accepted.

The next day, Pelagius had requested that the man and his family visit the villa so that I could inspect the boy.

The couple were apprehensive about letting me near their son when Pelagius brought me forward. Dressed like a servant and unable to say more than hello, it was painfully clear I was not a formal doctor. But eventually with some gentle prodding from Pelagius, the desperate pair finally handed their son to me so I could look over the sick child.

The boy's mother's eyes were red-rimmed, and it was clear she was desperate for any solution that could ease her son's constant crying. She gripped her husband's hand tightly in a vice while she watched as I lowered her son onto the table, while her husband stared on in suspicion.

The young boy, who could have been no older than two or three with a shock of blonde curls, squirmed on the table. His arms had waved above him while he wailed, forcing me to murmur quiet words in English to sooth him so that I could examined his body.

Covered in red hives, the boy wheezed painfully with each wail while he swiped at his red-rimmed eyes which looked swollen and puffy. He sniffed pitifully but repeatedly ran his pudgy hands over his bloat stomach in obvious pain before crying out in obvious distress.

I asked his parents about when the symptoms started, as well as what other symptoms he had shown since the rash had developed. Using Pelagius' as a translator, the parents explained it had been only a few months since the boy got sick but since then he had steadily grown worse and struggled to keep food down for any length of time.

Listening to parents explain their son's symptoms, I tentatively surmised that the boy could be suffering from celiac disease.

I wasn't certain but coupled with what the parents had shared along with the knowledge that the boy's diet was most likely the cause given the way the symptoms seemed to flare after mealtimes, gluten could be the possible suspect.

I offered my thoughts to the couple, but made it clear I wasn't 100%. Instead, I suggested for a few months they avoid giving their son any meal with bread or wheat, and ensured all other foods were prepared separately to see if it would help.

The father openly scorned my suggestion. He looked incredulous that bread, of all things, could be the cause for his son's ill health and muttered to Pelagius in a way that made me certain he was questioning my expertise. However, surprisingly the boy's mother nodded and said they would do it.

Her husband gave her a curious look, but the small woman declared that she was willing to do what she had to for her son.

A week later, the husband returned and proceeded to begrudgingly update Pelagius (and myself) on the boy's health. To his amazement, the change in diet had had some effect, but he was still unsure it was wheat that was the problem.

And a month later, I received a beautiful cotton gown lined with jewels and note written in the wife's hand thanking me for saving her son.

As promised, after helping his friend, Pelagius spoke no more about having me help with any other illnesses. However where it was from the thankful wife or someone else entirely, news began to spread that Pelagius had a slave who could perform 'medical cures' that Roman doctors could not.

Others began arriving at our door with different ailments, seeking counsel from Pelagius. While he did what he could to remain diplomatic to the sheer number of visitors, eventually I found myself doing what I could for those who sought help. Over the last few weeks alone, I had seen a woman with acute asthma, a young girl with heat blisters on her feet, and a man I was certain had syphilis.

Pelagius ran a hand through his thinning white hair as he stared at the message Lucretia had handed him. Though I didn't understand the history, the Holy Court and Pelagius did not see eye to eye on many things. Recently, the poor man had been back and forth from meetings with other priests and assemblymen to discuss different matters and whatever was being said at the meetings, was taking it's toll on the older man.

Given Pelagius' sudden worn expression, I placed a hand on his arm in worry.

"Are you okay?"

He smiled, shaking his head slightly before tucking the note into his pocket. He waved away my concern easily.

"Just tired, darling. It has been a long week and I don't relish the idea of defending basic human rights to small-minded people. But, if not me, then who? Such is my burden."

He chuckled at his own joke while I risked a small smile of my own, trying to ignore the worry that swirled in my stomach. The man was in his late 60s and I worried he was perhaps working himself too hard in his personal cause to right the wrongs of Roman society.

He gulped down the last of his wine before turning to me once again. The lines on his face seemed more apparent in the starlight but the spark in his hazel-green eyes blazed in youthful exuberance.

"How about tomorrow, you come to the market with me? The assembly meeting is in the morning, but afterward we can stop at the market and see if we can find some apples. Maybe even a little sugar and flour..."

"For pie?" I laughed, my eyes crinkling in amusement at the absurdity of it. Here I was worrying about the old man's health, and he just wanted pie.

Pelagius smiled in mischief, popping a grape into his own mouth with a shrug.

"You said it, not me darling. But yes, some pie would be nice. I think inventing it a little early won't cause too much of a fuss. Besides, there is only so much sausage and 'garum' an old man can take in his lifetime."

I shook my head, my laughter joining his as we sat in the courtyard like two friends.

A young woman, searching for purpose. And an old man, providing the comfort of wisdom.

Dressed in a simple blue dress with my hair tied up in a cloth to hide my odd darken ends, Pelagius and I left the villa early in the morning to head to the Assembly.

On the outskirts of Rome itself, Pelagius' villa was several miles away from the heart of the city but the old man enjoyed his walks through the bustling streets. He thrived in the organized chaos that was Rome.

Sellers hawked their goods while children raced around our legs as we made our way through the twisting streets of Rome. Men and women were already going about their day even as the morning dew still hung to the corners of the cobble streets.

I stuck as close as I could to Pelagius, still feeling very much an outsider to the world around us.

He didn't seem to mind, idly talking with those who passed in polite interest as we ventured further into the depths of the ancient city. I watched those that passed with muted interest, my eyes still unadjusted to the odd attire that most Romans preferred and the sights and sounds that to everyone else, was common.

Yet, despite my own anxiety that seemed to bubble up whenever I was beyond the safety of the villa, I enjoyed the long walk. It had been a while since I had stretched my legs, and I wondered if maybe I should ask Pelagius if I could join him on his walks more often.

By the time we arrived at the large, hallowed hall of the Holy Court, the sun was already beginning to heat the white-washed stones. The Holy Court was an impressive feat of architecture which I could have appreciated if I wasn't also simultaneously intimidated by it.

"It's so big…" I murmured, eyeing the monstrosity with a bit of dislike. Pelagius chuckled, equally giving the building a sort of exasperated look.

"Too big if you ask me, but the Romans never do things in halves, darling. Come on, the sooner we see what this meeting is all about, the sooner we can get to the market and the sooner I can eat some real American apple pie."

I bobbed my head in eager agreement, my lips quirking in a smile but hurried up the large staircase to the entrance after him.

Completely built of white granite that Pelagius had explained once had been shipped from somewhere in Turkey, the Holy Court was composed of a large dome that branched off into three cavernous sections (reminiscent of the holy cross). Massive marble pillars lined the entryway, with huge oak doors carved with motives of Jesus Christ and his disciples etched into the wood.

Our feet echoed over the white floors, with rays of sunlight bathing the marble in a glow that seemed to light the room from within.I followed behind Pelagius closely, nearly stepping on his simple white robe as we strode towards the back atrium where the assembly hall was located. A few men, dressed much more elaborately than Pelagius, watched us with varying degrees of interest but continued on their day with their slaves racing behind them.

I took a hesitant step back, realizing my mistake. In the eyes of everyone but Pelagius, I was his slave which meant I had to keep a healthy distance between myself and my supposed 'master'. Ensuring I was no longer walking astride with the old man, we continued into the left wing of the building.

I had been to one assembly since I had joined Pelagius' household but I had remained in the back, with the other slaves. I had watched in curiosity then as old men lining the steps of the auditorium bickered and argued over what Pelagius explained was religious ideology. It seemed ridiculous to me that a room full of wealthy, white Roman men dressed in the finest cottons and silks and dripping in rubies and emeralds were the foremost experts in how to dictate piety, but I knew that though times were different, some things stay the same.

To Pelagius, the way to spread the words and wisdom of God was to travel across the Empire. He had shared stories with me about his adventures, revealing the ancient world through eyes of humor and compassion. He had been all over the Roman Empire, teaching his own modern twist on Christian morals to those who would listen. He had many followers across the continent and often held presentations in his villa to those who wished to hear his words.

From his travels, Pelagius had seen the ancient cities of Thebes, Athens, Constantinople, and even had spent time in the far distant corners of Roman-occupied England. His time in Britain were some of his most treasured as he first journey he had undertaken as a messenger from Rome, but I found when I would press him on details of his life there, he would suddenly become thoughtful and quiet.

I learned to avoid asking him about his time in Britain but knew, deep down, I could see that the old man missed the country and the people he had met there.

I could hear the low tones of the other assemblymen as we rounded the corner. The large room, structured on an angle like a modern-day auditorium so that all could speak, was surprisingly empty.

Instead of the sixty or so holy men who often attended these meetings, I found my eyes widen in confusion when I saw there was no more than eight. A few centurions, with their horse-hair helms, stood against the back wall.

A prickle of unease swept through me but Pelagius seemed unbothered by the small group. Figuring that Pelagius had attended many assemblies over his lifetime, I reminded myself that I was overthinking it and the number of men probably didn't mean a thing.

I positioned myself behind Pelagius and kept my eyes lowered as we approached, but I couldn't help but peek at the others who bobbed their heads in greeting.

The most vocal man in the group was Bishop Germanus.

"Pelagius! My dear friend, you made it."

"Bishop Germanus. It is good to see you. How were your travels?"

My understanding of the conversations quickly lapsed as the men exchanged pleasantries rapidly. Only picking out a few phrases, my mind automatically drifted to studying the others around us as well as the room.

Along with Bishop Germanus, a man so full of himself that he always ensured he was at the centre of any conversation, a few other lowly bishops and senate members watched on. I recognized a few from dinners hosted by Pelagius, but most were Romans I had never met.

Bishop Germanus I knew best, as he often frequented Pelagius' villa and Pelagius' himself in a fit on uncharacteristic annoyance, had once groused about the 'pompous bigot' that had somehow weaseled his way into the Pope's good graces.

The lesser bishops kept their mouths shut while Bishop Germanus took the lead, usher Pelagius and I to the bottom of the auditorium so that we no longer stood on the steps. I followed dutifully but found I was silently praying this would be a short meeting.

Pelagius smiled patiently as the Bishop regaled him on something. Whether he was explaining why this seemed to be a more private meeting or was simply talking about himself, I wasn't sure but it dragged on for several minutes.

I waited, doing my best to remain still as the two men continued to converse. My neck was beginning to pain at being tilted downwards for so long but I ignored it, mentally counting the tiles on the ground to keep from falling asleep.

Suddenly, I felt a hand on my arm.

I started in shock, unaware that one of the centurions had moved from his position by the back wall to stand behind me. His hand held onto my upper arm firmly and I frowned in confusion, my eyes darting to his before searching out Pelagius to explain the situation.

Pelagius blinked in confusion at the appearance of the guard and made it clear to me he was asking what was happening. But the Bishop murmured something instead that caused the confusion on Pelagius' face to suddenly fade into realization.

A cold fear washed through me as his eyes widened, looking to me in fear before holding his hands out to the other man in a pleading motion. He gestured back at me, pointing at the entry but the other man shook his head.

The Bishop snarled, his lips pulling up into a sneer that held such bloodthirsty malice that I knew something was horribly wrong. He spoke, his voice echoing through the room and cause Pelagius to scoff in disbelief.

I jerked in the guards grip, trying to reach my friend.

"Pelagius, what's going on?" I asked, my foreign words lost on the others. "What's happening? Pelagius?"

Pelagius' voice rose as he started to yell in earnestness at the Bishop. I had never heard the man in all of my six months raise his voice and I twisted in the guards grip once more in growing desperation as it dawned on me that something was happening.

The guard behind me grunted as I tried to move away but his grip remained.

The Bishop laughed, the sound ugly and hollow, drawing my attention away from my efforts to escape once more. Dressed in a vibrant red robe with a belt encrusted in gold, Bishop Germanus waved his hand idly at whatever Pelagius was arguing. It was almost like he was dismissing him, his dark eyes flashing in cruel amusement.

The Bishop then spoke quietly, my ears straining to understand the words while Pelagius stood in stoic defiance. I caught what I thought sounded like, ''Pope' and 'choice' and maybe even 'crime' before the Bishop turned to the others.

The remaining bishops bobbed their heads in agreement to whatever Bishop Germanus had said, and Pelagius shook his head fiercely. With blazing eyes, Pelagius spoke passionately. He jabbed his finger at the others with each word, my eyes widening as a few of the man actually winced at whatever Pelagius was saying to them.

Bishop Germanus rolled his eyes but he couldn't hide how his face grew red as Pelagius continued to hurl what I assumed was insults at the other men. The Bishop's black eyes narrowed and with a flick of his wrist, the other centurions approached.

I barely had time to think, but the noise I made as the first blade pierced Pelagius' body was a mix of a gasp and a scream.

"Pelagius!"

I tore at the hands that now held me tight, fighting in desperation as I tried to reach Pelagius who stared down at the blade in his gut in stunned surprise. The guard holding the blade removed it swiftly, before plunging back into the old man's chest.

I screamed out again, fighting like a wildcat as I strained to reach him.

"Please, stop! Stop! Pelagius! No…please!"

But my shrieks in broken Latin did not halt the assault. One by one, the guards thrust their blades into Pelagius, again and again.

He groaned, his green-hazel eyes wide as his white robes became slick with blood. He stumbled, each jab forcing him backwards across the granite stage, leaving a trail of red blood behind him like a carpet.

The other bishops watched cooly, their expression devoid of any emotion as Pelagius was attacked. Only Bishop Germanus showed his true thoughts. His white smile beamed wider with every groan Pelagius made, the self-satisfaction pouring off of him in waves as his once friend struggled to remain standing.

With one last whispered moan, Pelagius fell onto the floor. I managed to finally free myself as I collapsed to my knees, desperately scrambling across the ground to reach the bleeding man. My hands immediately fell to his wounds.

The red liquid blooming across his once white robe instantly stained my hands as I tried to stem the bleeding.

"Pelagius? Pelagius, it's going to be okay…" I murmured, my words stumbling out of my mouth in rush as I tried to press my hands against his stomach. I held back a moan as the blood continued to pour over my fingers but didn't move, my mind searching for a way to save the man beneath me.

I felt tears prick at my eyes as my voice shook.

"Pelagius, I need you to stay strong okay? Remember what you told me? Just hold on… I can fix this. I swear I can fix this…just.. oh God… just hold on and I'll get help."

Pelagius' glassy eyes fell onto me, staring at me like I was a spectre from an old life. He blinked, his mouth moving but no sounds escaping as blood dribbled from his red lips. He weakly lifted a hand towards me and placed it over my own, forcing me to look away from my efforts to stop the blood that was beginning to drench the floor around us.

His eyes were kind but there was something else too, a sort of desperation like he had to tell me something. His hand faintly gripped mine tighter. His mouth opened again and over the blood, I could hear words faintly rise from his lips.

I was crying openly now, and my tears rolled down my cheeks. I leaned over him, needing to hear his voice once more.

It was no more than a whisper but I could hear Pelagius' putting the last of his strength into each word as if it was the last thing he needed to do on this earth. I shook over him as I listened, stifling my sobs to better hear.

"There is…no worse death…than… the end of… hope…" He said, his eyes boring into mine with a silent request. I shook my head, unable to understand what he was trying to tell me.

"Pelagius, don't leave me," I begged instead, touching his face gently. I left a smear of blood over his pale, wrinkled skin but he didn't seem to hear me. His eyes met mine for one last second, crinkling at the corners in the ghost of a smile, before I saw the life leave him for good.

The wail that escaped me was inhuman. I threw myself over his body, crying as the last semblance of hope that everything would be okay left me. I clutched his robe to me, desperately begging for him to wake.

"No! Please… don't leave me alone here. I can't do this without you. Pelagius please…No!"

I was ripped from Pelagius' body in a second, and dragged by the back of my neck by the same guard who had held me back. I screamed, kicking and scratching with all my might as I tried to get back to Pelagius. To the man who I had failed.

I cursed those around me, screaming at their cruelty.

"You bastards! You fucking bastards!" I choked, my voice cracking.

The other bishops looked a bit wary at my foreign words but Bishop Germanus steadily met my gaze with his own, his eyes nearly black as he lifted his lips in disgust.

I turned away, still trying to fight my way back to Pelagius. I needed to save him. I couldn't live in this world alone with his constant guidance and support.

I could see Pelagius still staring back at me, his once lively eyes devoid of the familiar spark that had made him my friend. Surrounded by a pool of his own blood that flowed across the white floor, the image was seared into my brain like a nightmare.

I cursed again but this time the guard struck me in the shoulder. My head snapped forward, and I collapsed onto the floor in pain before I was hauled up again to my feet. I swayed, staring at Pelagius as another wave of pain hit me.

But this pain was different.

My heart suddenly felt like it was being ripped in two, while the air was sucked from my lungs. I sobbed, ignorant to the words the guard holding me up asked the Bishop while I struggled to breath.

It was as if my lungs were being squeezed my someone's hand, my vision blurring in and out as I clutched my throat in a desperate attempt to get air into me. My eyes focused on the red on the ground to the red on my hands. The crimson colour blurred into one image, my mind unable to differentiate the two as the panic increased.

My sobs transformed into pained gasps for air.

Bishop Germanus regarded me the same way one would look at a bug, shaking his head in annoyance. He grunted blandly, saying something to the guard while the others left the room in silence, delicately stepping over the blood that continued to flow.

The edges of my vision turned black.

The last thing I saw before I fell unconscious were Pelagius' dead eyes, framed in a halo of red-stained Roman marble.