A little levity before the battle.
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.
Gawain led me into a large room once we had returned to the barracks. The sun had descended below the hills, casting large shadows across the stones as we entered but the room was warm and well-lit.
As I looked around at the hall, I still felt unsure why Arthur had requested I join the knights for this meeting. If what Gawain believed was true (which I knew most likely was the case) I couldn't quite understand why I needed to be present in a discussion about the Saxons.
I had been no more than a slave only a few hours before – I didn't think my opinion in warfare would be particularly sought after.
The meeting hall was dominated by a large circular table. Made of a thick oak, the table was strange in that the center had been removed, allowing for a smoldering brazier to pushed away the evening chill. I had never seen such a design in Rome and wondered if this was something exclusively found in Britain. The brazier glowed fiercely, filling the space with a lazy warmth that soothed my still chilled bones.
Several chairs were positioned around the table, most empty except for the few that had been claimed by the knights who had arrived before us. Lancelot's dark eyes flicked towards us as we entered but he turned away almost as quickly.
Candles lined the room, reflecting off of the dark walls that bore depictions of Roman myth as well as scenes I mused must be from British lore as well. It was a surprisingly intimate room, despite its size, and the knights looked more at ease here than I had ever seen them.
It also most likely helped that there were flagons of wine already laid out on the table, as well as a platter of meat and cheeses. Something Bors was generously availing to himself.
The bald man barked a greeting.
"Where've you been? Vanora's been looking everywhere for you."
"I found her wandering outside the fort," Gawain supplied, motioning me to sit. I eyed the empty seat he had led me to. It took me a second to realize that the empty spaces around the table represented knights who had not lived long enough to see their freedom given. Despite the warmth of the room, suddenly my skin prickled in unease.
I cringed at the thought of taking a seat of one of their fallen brethren, but thankfully Gawain seemed to notice my reluctance. Taking my hesitation in stride, he pointed to a seat next to Bors instead.
"You may sit there. I do not think Dagonet would mind you taking his seat for the night."
"I'm not going to bite," Bors added grandly, waving at the chair to his left. "If Dag can't have a drink, then by the gods, you will for him. Join us before Lancelot drinks all the good wine."
The dark-haired knight in question tipped his goblet to me in silent greeting from where he sat, a dark look on his face. His usual mischievous smirk was no where to be found and despite being a freed man, I had never seen Lancelot look so bitter.
I moved to the chair next to Bors quickly, darting my gaze away from the other knight. If Lancelot's poor mood was anything to go by, then my hopes for an easy night after a long day of ups and downs was foolhardy. I gladly allowed Bors to pour me a drink.
I had a feeling that I would need more wine to finally see one of the longest weeks of my life to its end.
Though ale was more plentiful, I savoured the richer taste of the wine as I tipped back the goblet Bors had shoved towards me. As a slave, I had been forbidden to drink wine but Pelagius had often allowed me to savor some of the wine he had in his household. However it had been a long time since I had tasted anything this fair.
While I found that ancient wine was much thinner than the kind I was used to from the future, it was smooth and enhanced the warmth around me. I took another fortifying sip.
"What were you doing outside the walls of the fort?"
Galahad's voice piped up from across the table. I risked a look up from my mug, wondering at how to explain without sharing that I had a clandestine meeting with a Woad who wished for me to join their cause. I was thankfully saved by Gawain.
Seated next to Galahad a few chairs away, he took his own sip of wine as he turned to his companion. He rose a conspiratorial brow.
"She was sitting with Gareth."
"Gareth?" Bors laughed heartily from my side. His wine splashed from his mug. "And what were you whispering to that pig's ass? Charlotte, I'd rather you leave that one dead for the worms if only to spare us the trouble he would cause us if you decided to bring him back from the dead."
The other knights joined in on the laughter, except for Lancelot who continued to brood. The group seemed to smile collectively as they reminisced about their fallen comrade while I tried to ignore the fact that Bors had openly declared he believed I had somehow resurrected Dagonet from the dead.
I hunched my shoulders and took another sip of my wine to hide my discomfort. Though I was loathed to admit it, perhaps I had been too lenient in my acceptance of Merlin and Guinevere's belief in my otherworldliness.
Healing breath, is what Merlin had said. I blanched as I thought perhaps I had misunderstood what Merlin had been requesting.
I felt my fingers clench around the goblet tightly as I prayed Merlin wasn't expecting me to raise anyone from the dead to fight the Saxons. He would be sorely disappointed and I grimaced at the misunderstanding that had seemingly taken root that I had not quickly corrected. I was well aware that burning women at the stake was not an unthinkable occurance in this time.
I took another sip in frustration. I needed to fix this quickly. But before I could correct Bors, the doors of the meeting hall swung open.
"Knights."
Arthur surged into the room, Jols following close behind. I had never seen the Roman commander without his black breastplate and red cloak, yet even in the simple tunic and pants he wore, Arthur had an air of authority. From the rim of my goblet, I stared at the man in quietly.
Did he know about his mother or Pelagius?
I found my eyes flicking over the man in a mix of awe and curiosity. Having known him for less than a week, I wondered how I had missed the signs. For someone as fair and just as Arthur, it now made sense why he held ideals that were so far removed from the norms of this era.
Arthur took an offered goblet from Jols, and held it aloft as the knights stood in unison. I mimicked their motion, holding the small copper cup uncertainly in the air.
It still felt strange to be seated amongst them. I was far more used to staying close to the outer wall, serving those who drank and feasted than actually partaking from my time in the Honorius household. It was a somewhat surreal experience to be now seated amongst those like the knights.
I shot a nervous look at the others but managed to not fidget in place as Arthur's voice echoed over the room.
"Knights, I will not waste your time with empty words. It has been a long 15 years we have spent together, spilling blood alongside one another across this land. Many of our brothers did not get to see this day and so we raise our wine in honor of those who laid down their lives and will be remembered for eternity," Arthur declared with solemn gravity. The other knights remained quiet, but their faces held a range of expressions.
Arthur's green eyes moved to every man at the table, even meeting my own gaze before he continued.
"You have all earned this freedom, my dear friends. But no longer do we toast to your freedom not yet gained – but we toast to the lives you go forth to live. To your freedom!"
"Freedom!" The men chimed. I did not speak up, but I raised my own goblet regardless, respecting the men around me and their accomplishments. They deserved their freedom and for that I was glad for them. I simply did not know why I was being counted among them.
The men collapsed into their seats, smiling as Galahad made a quip about Bors future brood. Lancelot kept his gaze focused on the brazier in the middle of the table, earning a curious look from Gawain. Tristan pointedly sipped his wine with no more than a bemused quirk on his brow.
Arthur sat in his seat but remained stern.
It was clear there more than simply toasting to their hard-earned freedom that Arthur wished to discuss, and I worried my lip between my teeth as I knew where it was leading. I nearly sighed aloud when my fears were confirmed.
"The Saxon army is not even a two-day march from the fort," Arthur said quietly. The room quickly descended into an uneasy silence at his announcement. He let out a low breath.
"Scouts have reported that their army is well-equipped. They have already raided most of the northern settlements, including those on the coast. If they are not stopped, they will ravage the rest of Britain. Therefore, my journey with you all must end here. I will not ask you to fight - your service to Rome is over. You have earned your freedom and I wish God go with you all wherever you decide to go."
"That's it?"
Lancelot's caustic reply cut through the uneasy silence that had filled the room. My eyes darted to the knight but Arthur looked unsurprised. The commander nodded.
"I no longer will ask of you to fight for me. You have each earned your freedom and therefore the right to live a peaceful life. But I cannot abandon the people here. I will remain to hold the Saxons."
"This is not your fight, Arthur," Lancelot grounded out. "You owe these people nothing. You owe Rome nothing."
Bors shuffled in his seat next to me in discomfort at the sharp tone in Lancelot's voice. Galahad and Gawain looked tense, while Tristan focused his attention on his wine. I shifted in my own seat, also unsettled.
"It is my choice," Arthur began but Lancelot let out a low hiss.
"Then you are a bigger fool than I thought!"
Standing up from his chair, Lancelot's wine clattered onto the table as he stalked out of the room. The other knights looked unsettled. It was Gawain who spoke up once Lancelot had disappeared through the door. Always the voice of reason, Gawain's tone was solemn.
"What would you wish us to do, Arthur?"
"To live free," he replied, his eyes still on the spot Lancelot had disappeared.
"I have issued the command that the fort and neighbouring hamlets be emptied before the Saxons arrive. The only thing I ask is that you join the convoy to the south. The Roman contingent will move to Londinium for further commands, but I do not trust them to aid in protecting those who will travel amongst them. From Londinium, you may go where you wish. I have prepared coin for all of you to use for acquiring passage to return to your homeland. I hope only for the best for all of you."
Arthur's eyes skimmed to where I sat. He bobbed his head at me sadly before he continued to speak, this time however only to me. I felt my hand freeze on the goblet infront of me.
"Charlotte, I wish we could have had more time to speak of Pelagius. But I will have to be satisfied with the knowledge that there are others who remember his kindness. For what you have done for my knights, I have prepared coin for you as well. You may go back to your people with the knowledge that I shall be forever grateful for what you have done. I desire you the same happiness as I do my knights – this is all I can give you."
I blinked back tears, suddenly overwhelmed. Every time I thought I had control over my emotions, these men seemed to unseat me with no more than a few well-placed words. I still could not understand their kindness.
Arthur managed a small smile as I ducked my head, unable to do more than nod. How did I even begin to tell the man that I had agreed to stay with the Woad after such a heartfelt offer? But more so… how could I stay and watch a man like Arthur die at the hands of the Saxons?
"Well," Bors voice cut through the melancholy that had filled the room. "I guess there is only one thing we can do. To Arthur! The greatest of all of us."
He held up his goblet almost defiantly as he stood. Arthur looked on in discomfort at such an honor but the other knights followed Bors' action without hesitation. I stood as well, a swell of sadness going through me at the thought of man like Arthur dying.
He was too noble – too good. After everything, I couldn't imagine seeing a man like Arthur die when he had done everything in his power to help those around him.
With a shaking hand, I held my own goblet aloft.
"Arthur!"
After a slight hesitation, the Roman commander resigned himself to take a sip of his wine in his name. His eyes continued to flick to where Lancelot had disappeared. After assuring the group that they may stay for as long as they wished, Arthur made his exit. Jols nodded before he too disappeared after his commander.
This left the rest of us to sit in awkward silence.
Arthur's words lingered in the air around us. To the knights, this was to be the last night they would spend in the fort alongside their long-time commander. And for me, it was the last night I would spend in the company of the Sarmatians.
There seemed to be so much everyone wanted to say, but looking around the table, even Tristan looked uncharacteristically grim.
I fiddled with my goblet, unsure if perhaps I should return to the infirmary now that the meeting had come to such an end. It had been a long day. Not only was I tired of the looming 'future' ahead of me, but it seemed everyone around the room felt the same. We were all tired.
Tired from the journey and tired from what was about to take place. Despite us all being free, none of us were free from the reality of our situation.
Suddenly, Bors let out an annoyed growl. The entire table turned and watched as he reached for the large flagon of wine. He poured a healthy amount into his cup before casting a look around at the others. His eyes blazed with unspoken emotions.
"Well I for one won't waste my first day of freedom is such a mood. I am a free man! And as a free man, I have the right to drink until I can't see straight. Now, who wants to join me?"
Without even thinking, I raised my cup.
Bors let out a grunt of approval as he poured more of the wine into my goblet.
"I like where your head's at, woman. Drink up! Now, who else?"
I took a large swig. I knew what I would have to do tomorrow, but until then, I would allow myself to not grieve or mourn or exist in a state of perpetual unknowingness. There was more than enough time for that later.
I would have one drink before returning to Dagonet, I decided. I knew I deserved at least one after everything.
Besides, what could one drink do?
The infirmary, with no more than six cots and bare wooden table that had been stained the colour of rust after years of use, was quiet by the time I staggered in from the hallway. It was dark, but I could faintly make out that the knight I sought was no longer asleep.
Dagonet was awake, and I could see in his eyes that he was clearly pleased to see me as I wandered into the torchlight. I smiled, my lips curling at the side as I approached his cot. My steps were uneven but I barely noticed, even as my hip thumped painfully into the table.
"How are you?" I asked, but my words were drowned out by my companion behind me. Galahad burst in from the hall and let out a loud crow, a full flagon of wine still in his hands.
"Dagonet! You're awake!"
The man in the bed raised a brow slightly, taking in the scene before him as I nearly tripped at his side. I had to blink a few times before I could focus on Dagonet. The room wasn't as dark as I had first thought, but my blearily mind seemed to be confused by how the world around me swirled.
It's so weird… it's like there is two Dagonets. Huh. That's hilarious!
I felt a giggle bubble up at the absurd image in front of me.
"You have been celebrating," the larger man stated calmly. Galahad let out a loud guffaw. The mercurial knight took the liberty to lounge on a free cot as he took a hearty sip from the amphora. His cheeks were flush from the wine but his eyes still glittered with unconcealed emotion.
Always on the edge that one, I mused with a blink. For some reason that thought also amused me and I had to cover my mouth to hold back the giggle that threatened to emerge from my lips.
"Yes, and celebrating we have. To our freedom! Even Charlotte here has been celebrating our escape from away from the bastard Romans with us. Haven't you Charlotte?"
I patted Dagonet's arm mindlessly, a wide smile dancing around my cheeks.
"I had some wine," I explained. I held out my hands to demonstrate. "But just a little bit. Because well… because I can."
Galahad toasted me grandly.
"Ha! She is being humble. The woman drinks like a Sarmatian! Gawain could barely keep his head up as she drank him under the table. I've never thought I'd see the day that Gawain would meet his match."
Dagonet flicked his gaze to mine. I found my vision was a bit blurry but I thought the older man looked amused. I had no idea why so I flashed a wide smile at Galahad instead as my thoughts went back to the blonde knight in question.
My arm waved in the air as I spoke.
"It's Gawain's own fault. He thought I couldn't drink... You guys call that stuff wine but its nothing. It's more like watered down grape juice. I went to medical school – you should have seen the stuff we used to put away. Vodka, Fireball…God I can only imagine what tequila would do your little medieval livers. You'd collapse in a heartbeat. Honestly…"
The silly man, I thought with a smile. Gawain thought he could out drink me with his wild hair and pretty eyes? I showed him.
Dagonet's brow furrowed but Galahad waved a hand dismissively behind me.
"Do not mind her. She had been speaking in her tongue for most of the night. Gawain and I could barely understand her but she seems in good spirits. A terrible drunk, but the woman can drink. Bors may have found his lost kin; she tried to teach us a drinking song of her people...I made little sense to me but the woman is growing on me. Anyone who can put Gawain through his paces is fine by me."
Oblivious to the exchange over my head, I allowed my hands to ghost over the bandages around Dagonet's waist. My lips pulled into a tight line as I examined him, though I had to fight the wobble that threatened my legs.
I mutely remembered that I hadn't been able to inspect his wound since earlier in the day. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew I should have returned earlier.
How many drinks had I had?
"How are you feeling? Are you feeling better? Any pain?"
"Charlotte," Galahad groused from behind me in a somewhat mocking tone. "You're doing it again."
"Doing what?" I shot back. The young knight gave me a pointed look and I levelled him with one of my own. I remembered drinking with the young knight back in the meeting hall with Gawain, Tristan and Bors. But the memory was fuzzy.
How had I gotten to the infirmary again? Did I walk here? When was that?
"You're talking in your language again."
I blinked, his words not making a lot of sense in my mind. What was the knight even taking about? I was speaking perfectly normally, thank you very much.
He must have been as drunk as Gawain who I had an odd recollection of being sprawled across the circular table. I tilted my head in thought before I shook my head, waving off the man.
"And you're drunk. Leave me alone Galahad – can't you see I'm working?"
I returned my focus to Dagonet who watched the exchange carefully.
"I need to know on a scale from one to ten, how you're feeling. I don't have any drugs I can offer you for the pain but it would help to know what the pain feels like so I can better assess your condition Is it sharp or is the pain more a dull throb? How about your lungs? Any issues with breathing? You did swallow quite a bit of water…"
Galahad snorted and muttered under his breath before taking another sip from his flagon as I continued to speak. Dagonet placed a hand on mind, halting my rant. His voice was soft but authoritative.
"Perhaps you should rest, Charlotte. It has been a long day for all of us."
"Rest? I don't have time for rest," I mused, suddenly thinking that it would be a good idea to get some clean water. I peered around the room. It took me a second to realize that the room was spinning but luckily I managed to keep a firm grip on the cot.
"How can I? The Saxons are coming and I need to…well, I don't know what I need to do but I need to do it. I swear, this would be a lot easier if there wasn't a group of crazed Vikings on the loose. Or at least I think they are Vikings…I really should have paid attention in history class. But I'm staying now which is wild if you think about how I'll be living in the same time as Vikings and Romans. Sometimes I wonder if this is purgatory except you're too good a man Dagonet to be in purgatory which means I not but still. Lots to think about and not enough time. Now, where is that bucket…"
I staggered away from Dagonet but somehow found my legs not working properly. It didn't help that the room continued to spin. I wobbled, staggering to the left as I tried to find my feet.
The world tilted on its axis, but I managed to right myself - by collapsing onto a blustering Galahad. I heard something shatter onto the floor before Galahad let out a low oath. I immediately dissolved into a peal of giggles.
"By the gods woman, that was the last of the wine!"
"Well if the room wasn't spinning…"
His hands awkwardly held me out in front of him, as if afraid by touching me he would be infected by some disease. He was staring at me with a dark look though his cheeks bloomed scarlet, belying how he truly felt. I let out another giggle.
Despite his moods, Galahad was like a schoolboy in many ways. It was suddenly extremely endearing and I felt my lips pull into a wide smile.
Slowly, I reached out a hesitant hand. I tapped his nose.
"Boop."
Galahad let out a low groan while Dagonet actually chuckled, the noise barely audible over my own giggles. I couldn't remember giggling but it felt good. If I was being honest, I felt really good and wondered idly if perhaps I had more wine than I should have.
But I pushed that thought away as I continued to smile at the man holding me out in front of him. Galahad craned his neck around me to look at the other knight in exasperation.
"She has been doing that to me all night and I do not know what it means."
"Perhaps it is a custom from her people?" Dagonet guessed, a smile twitching at his lips. Galahad rolled his eyes.
"I do not think it is. And I don't like it – Gawain nearly stabbed me the last time she did it. Every time I tell her to stop…"
"Boop."
Galahad wearily sighed as I tapped his nose again. I couldn't help but giggle at his expression. I didn't know what the other men were talking about but it was entirely too amusing to watch the young knight bluster and blush.
How was I ever afraid of this man? I thought to myself with a laugh. He is much too funny to be intimidating. Look at his little red face…he's like a little boy!
With surprising ease, Galahad switched our positions. In a second, I found my head on a soft pillow of straw while dark grey eyes bore into my own. Standing next to the cot, he glowered down at me. I blinked owlishly.
Seeing my stunned expression, Galahad snorted before striding off. The cot was not very comfortable but being horizontal suddenly felt much nicer than standing. I let out a contented sigh.
"I thought it best that she stay here for the night," Galahad muttered to Dagonet. I barely heard him as I felt my eyes flutter close. Another giggle escaped my lips but I marvelled at how nice it was to close my eyes. The room was not spinning as much that way.
"I would have asked Vanora but she and Bors' disappeared a few hours ago. I felt it safer that she be here for the night than somewhere in the fort."
"Bors must love Vanora very much," I murmured to myself suddenly. "He kisses her a lot."
Galahad's sneer echoed nearby, "Now she speaks in a way I can understand."
"Let her rest. She has had a long day," Dagonet chided. "There is much on her mind, as on ours. The coming days will not be easy for any of us."
"A long day," Galahad scoffed mirthlessly before his voice took on a dark tone. "My mind is not so easily distracted by drink as others. I will not be sleeping this night."
The rest of the conversation faded away. The two began to converse as I let their words flow over me like white noise. I suddenly felt so tired.
"Arthur means to stay…"
Galahad was answered by Dagonet's rumbling baritone. Their voices were soothing, rolling over me as they lulled me to sleep.
I had forgotten how nice it was to lay in a bed. Letting out a loud sigh, I finally succumbed to sleep.