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May 2008
Topic Started: Mar 18 2010, 02:23 AM (3,631 Views)
golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Darya
Date: Tue May 13, 2008 12:15 pm
Darya


Galahad
 
"We brought no-one back alive, Darya. I can't imagine
the woads and Saxons could find common ground at all...
The Saxons kill everything."


Tristan
 
"Hhmmmhph."


Darya frowned slightly at Galahad and sucked on her lower lip
for a moment. She knew exactly what the youngest knight was
referring to when he deliberately emphasized the word 'we'. No
doubt if any of the knights had been in charge, no Woad or
whatsoever except those who had left the Fort in the first
place, would have returned alive. Arthur, however, was
different. Sometimes, the female Sarmatian thought he was the
conscience of all of them…but in the times of war, she
sometimes would prefer for the Roman to not mercy with every
damn Woad that crossed his path. Darya was simply afraid that
one day, this mercy would get him killed. One day, an enemy
would misuse this mercy and manage to get close enough to the
Commander to end his life. The dark-haired clenched her teeth
and shut her eyes for a moment…once more trying to shove her
dark thoughts aside…

“I know…”, she then sighed, referring to Galahad’s first
words, “…I know…” Then Darya paused and brushed a strand of
hair out of her still rather dirty face. “And even with the
Woads and the Saxons not finding a common ground at
all…there’s always the chance of both tribes attacking on
their own, isn’t there? Yet what I gather from your words is
that the Saxons are even worse? Just…great…”, she added and
grimaced slightly before another thought struck her. “How…how
did Derfel manage? Having to face his own kinsmen…?”, the
dark-haired wondered. In all truth, she could not even imagine
the blonde knight betraying Badon’s people…but in the heat of
a battle, all kind of things could happen. That she knew from
her own experience…

Bors
 
"Well, we can't all stand around all day gossiping like
a load of ol' women. I'll see ya later, I might letcha
beat me at a round of knife throwing in the tavern
Tris!"


With that, Darya’s head whipped around and she once more
arched an eyebrow at Bors as the burly knight slowly limped
away. “Who’s the old one here, Bors?”, she teased the man and
smirked slightly as she did so before casting a questioning
glance at Tristan and Galahad. It was not like Bors to retreat
from a conversation so soon… Perhaps his obviously injured leg
was causing him more trouble than he wanted to admit…
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: SarmatianKnight
Date: Tue May 13, 2008 12:44 pm
Lucius


Lucius listened carefully what Derfel said about his friend -
Dagonet - and made sure to remember all the improtant details.
The last thing he wanted was to drop a brick because he did
not listen well and asked for the wrong people in the man's
presence or something similar. His father had taught him well
to listen. Always. Everywhere. And then think, son, before you
open your young mouth to speak. Although the situation was not
funny the memory of his father brought a small smile to
Lucius' face. He nodded and following his father's advice he
remained silent although he wanted to ask if that man they
were going to visit was Roman, Sarmatian or... whatever Derfel
was. Another thing he would have to ask later.

Derfel
 
“Oh….that little feisty one that tried to kill the
Commander…he spared her for some reason. Unless the
Optio took some other prisoners during the attack?”


Now Lucius looked at Derfel. He had not seen any other
prisoners, really but could hardly tell if that was the truth
then because he had been busy elsewhere, not really paying
attention about prisoners until he had seen the one who had
been treated like an animal by the men. "She tried to kill
Arthur Castus?" He sounded surprised. Somehow he had never
ever thought about someone trying to kill a Roman Commander.
Of course that was childish and stupid but well, in his
opinion the army existed to do good things and help, so people
should love them, shouldn't they? How odd. Trying to kill the
Commander. But then, things were often different from what
they seemed to be like. "And now he wants to return the
favour..."

They reached the infirmary and found the man called Dagonet.
Lucius waited patiently until Derfel had greeted him and
introduced them. He tried not to stare at him because he
looked bad. Worse than bad to be honest but that was certainly
no surprise. Lucius knew how it was to lose family. He
returned the nod with a smile. "My deepest sympathy for what
happened to your son." What else could he say? Nothing.
Dagonet asked for someone - Saoirse. Lucius had the feeling
that Derfel was most needed at the man's side at the moment so
he offered immediatly: "Shall I go and find her?" - forgetting
the fact that he had no idea who she was or how she looked
like. He just wanted to be of any help.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: LadyCastus
Date: Tue May 13, 2008 1:32 pm
Mona


Mona drained the last of the soup and licked her lips.

"mmmm, that was delicious. I feel better already," she purred.
"Maybe your suggestion of eating wasn't such a bad one after
all, healer" she said to Connell.

Mona looked toward the direction Guinevere had gone, stomping
into the woods like the spoiled brat she was, to find more men
to aid in the rescue. Mona thought it ridiculous and Guinevere
was disobeying Merlin's orders. Maybe a boar will eat her,
Mona thought with a chuckle. It would serve her right!

Turning her attention back to Connell, Mona stared at the
quiet man and drank in his appearance. The healer sat quietly
nibbling on his bread, and appeared to try to avoid eye
contact with Mona. He is a strange one, but I need him, she
thought to herself. Now with Guinevere had gone, fool that she
was, Mona decided that it might be a good time to gain
Connell's trust.

The woad walked over to where he sat and sat down next to him
- so close that her thigh touched his. Mona leaned over to
Connell so that her mouth was very close to his ear. He
smelled of medicine and animals.

"What is it about Neeria that drives you so, Connell? Why
would you risk your life for a woad?" she whispered.

Before the healer could answer, Guinevere suddenly appeared.
She was outraged, sword unsheathed - and bloody! Mona, despite
herself, gasped and jumped up, unsheathing her own blade. She
saw the side of Guinevere's face splattered with blood. For a
split second, Mona was prepared to fight, thinking Guinevere
had been injured. Mona's eyes flashed as she rushed up to the
princess.

"What happened?" Mona screamed.












Titrus

Titrus closed the door to the small room that housed the woad
prisoners behind him after he walked out.

"All's well in there," he reported to the guards outside the
door. "Make sure you check them throughout their stay here.
Commander Castus or Captain Barbattus should be sending word
soon with instructions."

"Oye, sir," the skinny prickly-faced guard responded.

Titrus walked back into the infirmary and saw that Brendyn was
being tended to. At least that was done. Titrus thought back
to the little deaf woad prisoner. He believed that the little
girl understood what he said to her. He wasn't sure, and it
was probably just his imagination, but he thought the girl
even tried to repeat his name. Of course she didn't! Bah!
Still, there was something about her...or perhaps it was
because he was a father of 4 daughters that tugged at his
heart to see a little girl who had been hurt so badly. Titrus'
jaw clenched at thought of what had been done to the child and
how she'd been tossed in a filthy cell without clothes. Titrus
felt the anger boil in him. She's not your daughter! She's a
woad! She is the enemy! his rational mind yelled at him. On
impulse, Titrus shoved open the doors of the infirmary and
stormed outside. He hoped he could get done what he had in
mind before Malcus showed up. He rushed out into the commons
and down a narrow alleyway before disappearing around a
corner.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: golden_trillium
Date: Tue May 13, 2008 4:33 pm
Linnette


Drake
 
"Come in."


Linnette peered farther around the doorway and then stepped
fully inside the room, rather surprised that her original,
half-glimpsed impression of its contents was, in fact,
correct. The small sleeping room was virtually empty- aside
from the pitcher of water and the towel that Drake was
holding, it might not have been occupied at all. It had, of
course, the same basic furniture that all the rooms in the
fort were provided with, but absolutely nothing else- not even
a covering on the prickly-looking straw mattress. Nothing
personal at all. For a second she was completely confused by
that, and wondered if Drake, seeking to preserve propriety
somehow, had not led her to his actual sleeping quarters at
all- but then she remembered the saddlebags he had been
carrying, and how he had said that he, too, had had to move
because of the damage to the barracks. This must be his new
room, then- just assigned. And he hadn't even brought the bags
with him, she realized- he must have left them in the
corridor.

"Mmm...it'll be nice when it's fixed up a little," she
remarked gamely, trying to be encouraging as she looked around
at the rather beat-up furniture. Meeting Drake's eyes again,
she attempted a smile for the second time since Drake had
pulled her away from her efforts to beat up the wall- and this
one came out a little broader, just a bit. Oddly enough, the
lack of personal effects made her more comfortable, she
realized- it took away much of the feeling of invading his
private space, of being where she shouldn't. This wasn't
anyone's room- no one slept here, as yet.

Drake
 
"This ok?"


Drake, still standing before her, had dipped the cloth in the
water and was now hovering it over her hands questioningly, as
though asking whether she wanted him to do the honors, or do
it herself. She made a soft sound of assent and lifted her
hands up a bit higher, towards the cloth, and where they could
both see them clearly in the light from the window. The
scratches across them were angry red, with a few little bits
of dirt or whatever ground in. The water, when it touched the
scratches, stung a bit and seemed very cold, and she caught
her breath, though more with surprise than pain. Drake,
though, seemed to tense on her intake of breath, and she
looked up at him again to see the muscles along his jaw line
twitch visibly, his lips pressed in a line so thin it almost
disappeared, his teeth obviously clenched. He did that a lot,
she realized vaguely- he was very, very, intense about small
things.

"Don't break your teeth," she told him softly, lowering her
eyes and then looking back up at him through the lashes, a bit
of a laugh now in her voice. It was a small attempt at a joke,
and it felt funny to laugh, or almost laugh, with tears still
drying on her cheeks- but it came nevertheless.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Elessars Girl
Date: Tue May 13, 2008 8:16 pm

Arthur


Arthur had felt the small contact at his elbow from Lancelot
minutes ago, but discreetly overlooked it as the other men had
joined them. But for a brief moment, the Roman questioned
Lancelot’s motives. And would the knight attempt to steal away
behind Arthur’s back and seek out his revenge on Merlin again?
How far would Lancelot go this time?

Amadeus
 
"I have been told that they are exceptional, Commander.
My tutor was also the tutor of Bishop Germanius back in
his younger years. I have negotiated between councils
and divisions many-a-time. You can trust me with this,
Commander. This is why Rome sent me."


Arthur keenly listened as Amadeus responded; eyebrows only
slightly lifting at the mention of Germanius, a man that had
been a friend to Arthur’s father. Scipio was certainly giving
the impression that he possessed the skills for the task….but
the crafty Woad leader was no Roman delegate or counselor.
This would be no typical Roman dominated negotiation.

Malcus
 
“Of course commander, it will be done as you wish. But
I’m sure a firm hand will not be necessary. I handled
her myself last night and she’s a whipped dog.
Unfortunately I had the task of punishing a guard for
trying to take her forcefully. I’m sure I acted on your
behalf in inflicting my own form of justice for his
dishonor of duty.”


Arthur lifted a hand to lightly rub two finders over his lips
as he thought. Malcus, in the mean time had responded in
regards to the prisoner and Arthur gave a brief nod in
acknowledgement. However, a small frown filled Arthur’s
expression at hearing about the misconduct of one of the men.

“Yes, of course, Malcus,” Arthur answered in approval of
Barbattus’ management of the girl and the dishonorable act of
the soldier. Malcus was a man of merit and Arthur trusted his
long time friend’s judgment in such matters. The Commander had
also noted Lancelot’s movement as his lieutenant left his side
to occupy a nearby chair, but kept his gaze focused on
Amadeus.

This is why Rome sent me. That particular statement seemed out
of place to Arthur…yet as shrewd emerald eyes studied Amadeus’
confident expression and body language….Perhaps he is less the
arrogant fool that he had appeared earlier.

Then Arthur’s side pained him again and his ability to focus
wavered; his head slightly dipped for a moment as if deep in
thought. But in truth, Arthur fought to calm the twinge in his
side and the sheer exhaustion threatening to overtake his
senses. He was still quite weak despite his attempts to ignore
and conceal it.

Lancelot
 
”Watch that girl, Barbattus, she's - bitey.”


Lancelot finally interjected with an opinion…but on nothing of
value for Arthur. Thus he ignored the brief exchange and
re-focused on Amadeus.

Malcus
 
“Ah, yes my dark friend, but unbeknownst to her, I bite
back.”


The bravado in Malcus’ voice basically handed Arthur his
decision. If he could not deal with Merlin himself, and
Amadeus was still unproven, then Arthur would also send
Malcus.

“Malcus, you will accompany Optio Scipio,” Arthur stated as he
turned his attention to Barbattus. “Your previous experiences
with Merlin will be useful,” The Commander held Malcus’ gaze
for a moment silently conveying his need for his old friend’s
aid on this crucial errand. Malcus was already heading towards
the door to follow out Arthur’s orders and the Commander gave
a curt nod in approval.

“The two of you will take the girl after I have spoken with
her,” Arthur continued while returning his focus on Amadeus.
He lifted his chin and deeply exhaled before continuing,
confident that this was the best scenario under the
circumstances. But guilt at not being capable of fulfilling
his duty quickly began to gnaw at Arthur’s gut. And only then
did he dare a glance in Lancelot’s direction.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: linnet
Date: Tue May 13, 2008 9:11 pm

Gawain


The armory was drafty and cold. The rainy weather insured that
scant light was available through the few small windows high
up on the stone walls. It was enough however for Gawain to
locate the collection of knights’ armor and weapons that had
been brought here after they returned yesterday. Each knight’s
things were in a separate space, due to Jol’s familiarity with
Arthur’s Sarmatian cavalrymen. The blond knight picked up the
axe which had most recently been planted in the chest of a
Woad hell-bent on rescuing the girl who was determined to
share Arthur’s saddle. Damnest thing. It really wasn’t funny
at the time, but Gawain chuckled now as he pictured the
scrawny creature clinging to Arthur like a leech. Straddling a
wooden bench, the knight used one of the cloths available to
wipe the axe blade clean. Some spots had hard, caked on stuff
that would only come off when he scraped them with his
fingernails. Bits of Woad or bits of Saxon. The end products
of his occupation. He wasn’t in the mood to get philosophical
about killing, or about life and death and why he had once
again survived when stronger and smarter and better men had
died.

Instead he concentrated on the physical task at hand. He
cleaned and polished, and inspected to make sure his weapons
were still sturdy and once again battle-ready. He hefted the
heavy axe and his mace with his left arm, knowing he needed to
build up his strength there in case his right arm didn’t get
back to normal. After he finished with his own things, he
picked up Galahad’s battle sword. He went to work carefully
cleaning it too, not as a favor to his friend, but to keep
occupied. And after all, this sword had saved his life. Gawain
didn’t have a sword. He’d never really taken to swords,
preferring bludgeoning weapons and close-in hand to hand
fighting. But as he worked on Galahad’s sword, he admired the
fine metalwork and the razor sharp blade. He could see the
advantages of the weapon, but he knew he didn’t have the
finesse to use this sword, or one like Tristan’s, or
Lancelot’s. His mind started to work on the idea of a sword
that would suit his style. It would have to be shorter, and
broader, heavier, more for hacking and gutting than for
slashing and stabbing at a distance. He was building a picture
in his mind of such a weapon. He decided that when he finished
in the armory, he would go visit the metal smith. He needed to
have a new metal armor band made to replace the one that the
Saxon had smashed to smithereens on his arm. They could also
talk about his sword idea, which had the blond knight feeling
some enthusiasm. At least for the time being, working in the
armory was giving Gawain some purpose, and taking his mind off
the things he was trying to avoid.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: golden_trillium
Date: Wed May 14, 2008 6:31 am
Tristan


Bors
 
"Well, we can't all stand around all day gossiping like
a load of ol' women. I'll see ya later. I might letcha
beat me at a round of knife throwing in the tavern,
Tris!"


"Yeah, all right," Tristan muttered good-naturedly, with a
small smirk and a roll of his eyes as Bors heaved himself off
the fence and began to stump away. Let him...as if. Tristan
was the hands-down best knife thrower of the knights, or
indeed of anyone in the fort. It wasn't something he bragged
about, but he knew it well. Not that Bors was bad, of course-
he just wasn't as good at Tristan. That was the way it was.

Darya
 
“Who’s the old one here, Bors?”


Darya, despite her rather teasing words, shot a rather worried
glance over at Tristan and Galahad as Bors left the riding
arena, and Tristan knew that she, too, had noticed the older
knight's limp, or rather, obvious efforts not to limp. His leg
must be hurting him- but he was not looking for sympathy,
unless he intended to get it from Vanora, perhaps. Tristan set
down Tirgatao's hoof and stepped away from the horse with
another pat to its well-brushed coat, and met Darya's eyes and
gave her a shrug at the same time. Bors would be all right, it
seemed to say- he was hurting, but he would be all right.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Elessars Girl
Date: Wed May 14, 2008 7:09 am
Derfel


Dagonet
 
"I felt better, my friend"


Derfel offered a gentle smile at the older knight, sympathetic
to the man’s situation. But Dagonet was in the best place he
could be right now….and his physical wounds would heal.

Dagonet
 
"How.... is Linnette? Did you take care of her? Is there
Saoirse anywhere in the room?"


“She seems to be holdin’ up. We saw to her just a bit
ago…seems Arthur had called for her…but I’ll be sure she’s
looked after,” Derfel answered Dagonet’s inquery about
Linnette. But Saoirse he had not seen when he and Lucius had
come into the infirmary. And while Lucius offered his
condolences, Derfel glanced around in search of the red head.

Lucius
 
"My deepest sympathy for what happened to your son."


“Don’t see her, Dag,” Derfel frowned while still craning his
neck back over his shoulder attempting to spot Saoirse. Surely
Dagonet’s lover was close though.

Lucius
 
"Shall I go and find her?"


“If ya wouldn’t mind, Lucius, I’m sure she’s ‘round here
close,” Derfel looked up at the kind man from where he sat on
Dagonet’s bed. “She’s a lovely young red head if you haven’t
met her yet,” He added with a smile. Saoirse should be easy
enough to spot….or so he hoped.

“Was she not here whey you woke up?” Derfel asked Dagonet to
be sure they didn’t need to look any further than the
infirmary. But of course, he’d go fetch the young lady from
wherever she was if Dagonet asked him to.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: LadyCastus
Date: Wed May 14, 2008 9:24 am
Malcus Barbattus, Titrus, and Neeria


Arthur
 
Malcus, you will accompany Optio Scipio. Your previous
experiences with Merlin will be useful.


The captain didn’t miss a beat and nearly chuckled again.
Scanning Arthur’s eyes, Malcus knew Arthur didn’t fully trust
the optio not to fuck things up should they actually run
across Merlin. Malcus still had his doubts that they would
encounter the magician, but he didn’t blame Arthur for not
wanting Amadeus to damage the already fragile relationship
even further. Barbattus also surmised that Castus also wanted
Malcus to watch Scipio as well, protecting's Arthur's
reputation. Only for you, my friend Malcus’ eyes spoke back to
Arthur.

“Oy, commander,” Malcus responded and tipped his head to
Arthur before he left the room.

As Malcus left Arthur’s quarters, he adjusted his heavy cloak,
trying to keep the cold drizzle from penetrating through to
his skin. “Abominable weather,” the captain said aloud as he
headed down the roadway past the tavern, toward the stables.
At the stable gate, Barbattus looked about for Jols. Not
immediately seeing either Jols or Mirtha, Barbattus yanked a
sleeping stable boy by the scruff of his neck.

“Do you know my horse, boy?” he asked the groggy young man.

“Yes, captain! Falco is your mount!”

“That’s right! Get him ready to go. I’ll be back just around
midday to ride out.” Malcus tossed the boy a coin and turned
to go.

“Thank you, sir!” the boy called after him, now fully awake,
and ran off to tend Falco.

As Barbattus reached the infirmary, Titrus ‘rounded the
building, almost running into him.

“Titrus!” Malcus greeted his lieutenant, “I was just coming to
check on you,”

“Captain!” Titrus responded, somewhat surprised.

“Walk and talk,” Malcus said, as was his usual way with
Titrus. “How are the prisoners? Have they been treated?”

“Yes, sir! They are well, sir. I just checked them just a bit
ago. They’ve been no trouble at all.”

“Good,” Malcus said. “Titrus, Arthur has ordered me to ride
out with Optio Scipio and the woad prisoner to find Merlin. We
will be leaving shortly – after Arthur speaks with the girl. I
want you to take the smaller girl back to the cells. But I
want you to put her in the Roman cell area. It's not nearly as
bad and there are windows there. Make sure she has clean straw
for bedding and a blanket. Order her food and water as well.”
Malcus commanded.

"Yes, sir. It will be done."

The two men reached the infirmary doors. Titrus opened the
door and allowed Malcus to enter. The captain looked around
the medical room. He hated being in the place, it made him
uncomfortable. He’d always felt he’d rather die on the
battlefield than on some bed missing a limb or two and half
crazed.

“This way, sir.” Titrus said as he led the way toward the
small room where the prisoners were being held. The lieutenant
had a small parcel tucked under his arm that Malcus hadn’t
noticed, or if he had, he hadn’t inquired about what it was.
With Malcus, it was hard to tell some times. The two guards at
the door snapped to attention and saluted when Malcus
approached. Returning their salute, Barbattus brushed past
them and opened the door.

Neeria jerked her attention to the door as the two Roman’s
entered. Eala was still at her side. The child crouched lower
and watched the men with wide black eyes.

“I have come to take you Commander Castus,” Malcus said to
Neeria. “He wishes to speak with you before we ride out. You
are to fulfill your promise of taking us to your leader,
Merlin. Our bargain is the same as before. Do not try to fight
me and I promise not to kill you. Are you able to move or do
you need assistance?”

Neeria looked at the man standing at the foot of her bed. She
recognized him as being the man who came to her cell the night
before. He was of authority, she realized.

“I can move without assistance from you, Roman,” she said
nastily.

Malcus' smile at her contained no humor, only tolerance.
“Good. Let’s go. No trouble.” As Neeria rose from the bed,
holding onto to her side and grimacing a bit, Malcus kept his
eye on the wild girl. “Tell your comrade in whatever manner
necessary to remain where she is or I will throttle her but
good,” the captain said angrily, remembering their last
encounter.

Neeria put her hand up to Eala, trying to tell her to stay
put. The child paced around like a caged animal.

“I will handle the younger one,” Titrus said calmly.

Neeria pulled herself up from the bed and stood on wobbly
legs. Malcus grabbed her by her elbow to steady her. Neeria
thanked Orius that she had given the long blade to Eala to
hide just a moment before the Romans arrived. Keeping the
knife under her thigh was far too dangerous and now Neeria’s
precautionary measure had obviously paid off.

“Do I need to chain you?” he asked. “No!” she snarled, yanking
her elbow from his grip. Malcus smiled at her again, wishing
he could slap the sheite out of her or break her pretty neck.
Instead, he said, “Move, then,” and led her toward the door.
Barbattus looked over his shoulder and said to Titrus, “be
careful, lieutenant. When you are finished here, meet me at
the stables. I will have orders for you before I leave.”

“Oy, captain,” Titrus replied, never breaking eye contact with
Eala.

Malcus then guided the girl out of the room, taking the cloak
off the guard at the door and wrapping it around her. "We will
find proper clothing for you when we get to the barracks."

When the door closed behind Malcus, Titrus got down on one
knee again in front of Eala. She was visibly upset, making
guttural, animal-like noises, her eyes wide like saucers. But
Titrus waited until she realized he wanted to communicate with
her. When the child calmed down a bit, he mouthed to her, very
slowly “You must trust me.” The wild girl stopped moving,
watching Titrus’ mouth move as he spoke. “I have to take you
back to the other place – that is my order. But I will go with
you. Do you understand?”

Then Titrus reached under his cloak and pulled out the small
parcel he wrapped when he’d run home quickly. The lieutenant
took a small, dirty doll that he knew would not be missed by
either of his daughters and put it up to Eala’s face. Titrus
doubted if the girl had ever seen a doll before.

“This is for you. Keep her close to you,” he mouthed. “She is
your friend and will keep you company.”

The lieutenant rose to his feet and pointed to the door. “We
have to leave, now,” he said. He hated to have to do it, but
he opened the door to lead the girl back to a dingy cell.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Pinkie
Date: Wed May 14, 2008 10:30 am
Catherine


Catherine smiled and laughed easily with Fleur, delightedly
helping the littler of the girls with her pillowcase and
quickly stuffing her into the new green dress that she had
brought along. It fit her with a little room left over. The
whore took a step back and smiled, unaware of Cassidy's
building tantrum. Catherine put her two hands on Fleur's
cheeks and smiled at her.

"You look beautiful now." she told her, distracted midway as
the bowl of soup was upended onto the purple dress she had
brought for Cassidy.

At first Catherine was horrified, gasping and looking at the
ruined dress. She held onto Fleur's hand as the girl jumped
off the bed and gripped her about the waist.

Cassidy
 
"We don't need your help,"


"Hmmph!" Catherine frowned, looking down at Fleur and then
over to Cassidy. She narrowed her hazy green eyes at the older
of the girls, her head cocked knowledgably. "Whose helping?
These dresses have been sitting in my clothes trunk at home
for years. I don't need them and they are much too good to
throw away. Don't you think Fleur?" Catherine smiled down at
the littler girl, noticing how unsure she was of her sister
right now. The blonde took a deep breath and looked over at
Cassidy. She pursed her lips and then stretched her hand out
towards her, the one holding Fleur's, essentially offering the
little girl back to her sister.

"I can't stay right now to talk about this. You girls are big
enough to look after yourselves now anyways." She smiled at
Fleur, then gave a cautious look at Cassidy, "Perhaps you can
think about the dress while I'm gone? You don't have to keep
it - certainly not if you don't want it. Ok?" she hoped her
keepng her temper about Cassidy's rude destruction of a
perfectly good dress was winning some brownie points with the
older of the two girls. Catherine certainly didn't want to
take care of the girls - though she did love children, she
just wanted to make sure they had enough to get by.









Galahad

Darya
 
“I know… I know… And even with the Woads and the Saxons
not finding a common ground at all…there’s always the
chance of both tribes attacking on their own, isn’t
there? Yet what I gather from your words is that the
Saxons are even worse? Just…great… How…how did Derfel
manage? Having to face his own kinsmen…?”


Galahad's bottom lip was pouting out as he tried to recall how
Derfel had reacted. He could remember how distressing it had
been losing Gedeon but he couldn't pin-point Derfel's reaction
in his head so he shrugged - interrupted from his thoughts by
Bors.

Bors
 
"Well, we can't all stand around all day gossiping like
a load of ol' women. I'll see ya later, I might letcha
beat me at a round of knife throwing in the tavern
Tris!"


Galahad watched Bors go with a silly half grin on his face. He
could see the man was attempting not to limp but, having seen
him and the rest of his brothers come through so much worse
than that, Galahad just found it amusing. He snorted in
amusement and looked over at Tristan for his reaction to the
knife-throwing contest.

"I'm in on that!" he declared with an almost adolescent
brightness, believing that he might have a chance against
Tristan. The scout was good - very good, but Galahad was
convinced that he was not invincible as he seemed to be where
throwing knives were concerned. His big blue eyes vibrant and
eager. Alina could come along too - perhaps Vanora would sing,
maybe Dagonet would be well enough to come to the tavern too.
The thoughts of having all of them together in the tavern for
a drink and a ribbing sounded too good to be true for Galahad,
and the doe-eyed look on his face said so.

Darya
 
“Who’s the old one here, Bors?”


The two were looking at Bors walk away. Galahad's head whipped
from looking at Darya and Tristan to teh retreating broad back
of Bors and he shrugged. He was limping - weren't they all?
The youngest knight sniffed and looked up at Darya again. His
elbows were drawn backwards, resting on the top of the gate
behind him, his hands flat against his stomach -

"Derfel's one of us now. He took it the same way the rest of
us did I suppose. Gedeon hit him hard though... Linnette and
Linnesse and all that ..." the youngest knight mentioned,
moving one hand in a continuing-on gesture before sighing and
shaking his head, looking sadly at Tristan who was tending to
Gedeon's old horse. It was only then that the black-haired
knight realised that this was Tristan's new horse. His eyes
bugged and his jaw dropped.

"Tristan... does Dagonet know you're... does Linnette?"
Galahad asked worriedly, gesturing to the horse.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Eledhwen
Date: Wed May 14, 2008 11:58 am
Bors


Bors raised a dismissive hand at the comment from Darya, and
waved it good-naturedly as he stomped out of the barn. It was
still raining, and his leg hurt more than ever. Maybe he
should just go to the infirmary and get it looked at...

Huffing to himself at the thought of 'giving in', Bors started
towards the infirmary, limping more as he crossed the
courtyard now that there was no one to see him. Maybe he would
just give Dag a visit... that was all - he wasn't going to get
his leg looked at...

Hobbling as he reached the door and sliding in out of the
rain, Bors spotted Dagonet straight away. He already had
visitors, but he surely wouldn't turn his best buddie and
drinking companion away.

"Dag!" he called as he approached the bed. "'Ow's it goin'?"

Bors was not the best when it came to sympathy, but Dagonet
knew that. The oldest knight did of course feel for his friend
in his time of loss, but Bors had seen too many good men die,
more than the other knights, to let the loss of one more
affect him overly much. He eased his bulk down onto the bed,
on the opposite side to Derfel, and winced as a sharp pain
shot up his thigh.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Pinkie
Date: Wed May 14, 2008 12:22 pm
Amadeus


It is a pity the man whom Malcus spoke of wasn't more
interested in blood than sex - then Britain might be one woad
closer to cleansing the land. Amadeus waited patiently for his
moment to shine, waited with his grey eyes looking attentive
though inside his head he was planning how he would accept
this mission, how he would reassure Arthur that this was in
the best interests of all and sundry.

Arthur
 
“Malcus, you will accompany Optio Scipio, Your previous
experiences with Merlin will be useful, The two of you
will take the girl after I have spoken with her,”


Damn it!

Amadeus' eyebrows raised in mild interest and he nodded his
head curtly to indicate he had received an order and
understood it. He so wanted to look at Lancelot, to see if the
dark Knight was seething because he had been given this
important task and not him. But the Optio behaved - looking
ahead of him, watching Arthur closely.

"What is my task once I do engage Merlin, Commander?" the
Optio enquired smoothly, folding one arm over his flat,
armoured stomach, lifting a hand to pinch his narrow jaw,
stroking his index finger over the smooth skin.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: golden_trillium
Date: Wed May 14, 2008 12:50 pm
Tristan


Galahad
 
"Derfel's one of us now. He took it the same way the
rest of us did, I suppose. Gedeon hit him hard
though...Linnette and Linnesse and all
that...Tristan...does Dagonet know you're... does
Linnette?"


"Eh..." Tristan hesitated for a moment, wondering how much
Galahad was going to disapprove when he admitted that no,
neither Dagonet nor Linnette knew about his appropriation of
Tirgatao. Rather a lot, judging by his shocked, worried
expression.

"No," the scout admitted with a shrug, sneaking a slightly
guilty glance at Darya, too, as he said it. Did she think the
same as Galahad apparently did? Tristan was consummately
practical; Tirgatao was a good horse- and available. It truly
hadn't occured to Tristan to ask anyone's permission but
Mirtha's- but though the scout wasn't ready to give up his new
mount just on someone else's say-so, he did also want to avoid
upsetting Dagonet if it were possible. Linnette...well,
Linnette didn't worry him so much. He almost never talked to
her, and besides, arrangements for fighting weren't her
business or any other woman's. Dagonet, though- if Dagonet was
upset at Tristan about his horse business, that could have
more significant repercussions.

"You think..." Tristan trailed off, looking uncertainly from
Galahad to Darya.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: Pinkie
Date: Wed May 14, 2008 12:51 pm
Drake


Linnette
 
"Mmm...it'll be nice when it's fixed up a little,"


Had Drake cared about what his room looke like he might have
had the decency to feel a smidge of embarrassment at her
statement. He never put any effort into his rooms, he never
had done. He slept in the damn place, he washed in it and he
dressed in it. So long as the room was equipped with those
items necessary for said tasks then he was satisfied. He
lifted his bandaged hand to his face and looked around the
place with raised eyebrows, as if seeing it for the first time
and gave a wry shrug of his broad shoulders.

"Maybe." he intoned in a light baritone, coming around to
stand in front of her as she sat on the bed. Drake wasn't too
sure about how he would do this - but there was no point in
dallying. He knew he would just lose confidence if he delayed.
With that in mind, the Spaniard hunkered down, favouring one
foot over the other, bowl in one hand and towel in his
bandaged hand. He tensed his jaw as he set about dabbing at
the broken skin. Lightly - very lightly. Her hand moved
downwards though, instinctive, he supposed, to avoid it
hurting herself.

Her first intake of breath made him pause. He didn't look at
her face though, just tensed his jaw that bit harder and
waited a moment before continuing. She did it again and he
could hear his teeth creak under pressure.

Linnette
 
"Don't break your teeth,"


His green eyes flashed up to her face in an instant. Was she
joking with him?

The half smile on her pretty face answered that thought and he
breathed out an amused, though light, laugh. Clearing his
throat, the Spaniard shook his head. He placed the bowl onto
the ground and placed his uninjured hand beneath Linnette's.
Goosebumps tightened the skin on his arms and chest almost to
the point that he could barely move. Her hand was just as soft
as he remembered, and it was cold now, very very cold.

She flinched again when he placed the cold cloth back to her
flesh and his teeth creeked. Without her mentioning it, Drake
delibrately unclamped his jaw, his mouth hanging open to show
her that he wasn't tensing this time. But seeing her fingers
bend at the next contact he finally gave up trying not to
react. His green eyes glanced up at her face, then down to her
hand, his head tilted to the side as he carefully dabbed at
the edges of teh graze.

"I don't like the thought that this is hurting you. That I'm
hurting you." he explained in a husky voice, obviously
unwilling to be admitting such stupid little details. "It
seems counter productive..." Drake murmured, leaning over her
hand closely peering at the wound. There was a piece of grit
embedded. This made the Spaniard grimace. He placed the bowl
on Linnette's lap carefully and dangled her hand over it,
letting a trickle of water flow from the squeezed towel, along
her hand and into the bowl.
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golden_trillium

Admin
Author: golden_trillium
Date: Wed May 14, 2008 1:16 pm
Linnette


Drake
 
"I don't like the thought that this is hurting you. That
I'm hurting you. It seems counterproductive..."


Linnette sighed, allowing her shoulders to slump a bit as she
watched the water dripping down the palm of her hand, though
her legs remained tensed, set in place to keep the bowl of
water balanced. She didn't want Drake to feel bad about this-
not at all. He had helped her, not hurt her. Her hurts right
now were due to nothing more than her own damned stupidity.
Hitting the wall- how useless was that?

"Don't worry about it." She let out another discontented
breath and reached for the cloth with her other hand, taking
it from Drake and beginning to work on getting that piece of
dirt out herself. She caught her breath against the sting
again, grimaced slightly- actually, the pain in her left,
working hand was worse than the pain in her right- but kept on
going gamely until the foreign matter was gone.

"It was a stupid thing for me to do," she murmurred, almost
apologetically, her eyes on the bowl as she dipped the cloth
again and made ready to clean her left hand- the more painful
one. There was more injured there than just the skin of the
palm, she could tell- a deeper, sharper pain located more
towards the back of the hand. She bit her lip, trying to
suppress too much reaction to it, as she wrung out the cloth
in preparation, but she could not help turning the hand over
and examining the back of it, trying to see if there was
anything visible there.
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