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| August 2008 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Apr 12 2010, 09:09 PM (2,841 Views) | |
| golden_trillium | Apr 13 2010, 11:04 PM Post #31 |
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Author: LadyCastus Date: Tue Aug 05, 2008 3:22 pm Titrus
The Commander stood even taller and straighter now that Titrus had his attention. The lieutenant stood at 'parade rest' and squared his shoulders, slightly bending his knees to keep the circulation flowing through his legs. "Commander," Titrus began, clearing his throat...just the facts. "I regret to inform you that fortress security was breached earlier. The side gate was compromised - broken into - and it appears a rescue party entered. We don't know how many sir," he paused only to suck in more breath, trying desperately not to look down at his feet. He felt about an inch tall and his mouth went dry. "We know they were woads, sir, because they penetrated the dungeons and rescued the younger woad girl. A guard was killed, sir," he added softly. His nose itched. Titrus only paused for a second, then he hurried to get all of the bad news out as though he was purging himself of some vile infection. "We have conducted a door-to-door search, Commander, and believe there is no longer a threat. But we could not find the escapee. The gate has been secured again and the guard's family has been notified." Having finished his full report, Titrus stood back at attention, waiting for Arthur to react. The lieutenant had never even really been that close to Commander Castus before and therefore had no idea what to expect. Before Arthur could speak, Titrus said, "One more thing sir," remembering, when there was a knock at the door. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 13 2010, 11:05 PM Post #32 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Tue Aug 05, 2008 8:33 pm Brendyn The sun was setting, and he had to be at the wall on time he felt. When he ordered, Brendyn only ordered a few slices of bread and a bowl of stew. No drinking for him tonight. He wanted to be sober, and alert. His eyes watched the wench saunter off toward the kitchen with his order, then they moved to his hands which were claped tightly in front of him. The young soldier had not made the best impression so far at the fort, save for Quintus's compliment upon surveying the damaged gate through which the woad or woads had escaped. Brendyn had felt proud at that moment... "Here you go, sir," the wench set the bowl and the bread in front of him. He thanked her in a soft voice, almost wishing that he didn't have to work. But there were wenches aplenty, and he felt his duties came first. There was time for play later...like whenever he completed his training, or had learned more than he had with Antonius. He took a bite of the warm stew, then took the bread and lay it in the bowl so that he could eat both at once. He continued to think. Think of how different people were here, than at Aesica. More disciplined? Was that what he saw in these men? It was something he did not see in himself. Antonius, he felt, had not taught him bad fighting skills, and battle techniques, but the mindset: the belief that to hate the enemy made them easier to kill. It was this mind set that came out in the infirmary earlier. He did not believe the little woad and her older counterpart should have been allowed treatment nor comfort. They had been given too much free rein, and he had felt that he had to give his opinion. One that Antonius would have been proud of. Obviously, that mindset didn't work here. He finished his stew, and pushed the bowl aside. Brendyn raised his eyes to look out at the dimming light of day. He reached into his leather coin pouch and lay three coins on the table for the food, then picked up his helmet, making ready to leave.... |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 13 2010, 11:06 PM Post #33 |
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Author: linnet Date: Tue Aug 05, 2008 8:42 pm Juna Practicing her healing arts on the victims of Merlin’s divinely decreed wars had always been exactly that for Juna – practicing. Each punctured, torn, or broken body was a chance to learn which methods and mixtures worked best. The wounded were experimental subjects in her eyes, rather than unique souls. It wasn’t that she didn’t understand their suffering and pain. She did, all too well. But she detached herself from it in order to defeat it. Each injury she treated taught her something, gave her new insights into how the body reacted to trauma, new ideas for finding and making medications. She viewed every patient as a challenge, and used all the skill and knowledge she had to win the challenge, to save the life, to ease the pain. When the patient died, she felt defeated. She didn’t mourn the lost life, a life she’d never been close to. Instead she took what she had learned and labored with steeled determination to beat death the next time such a case happened. As Juna worked to clean the foreign matter from Ash’s wound, she recognized that she was feeling different. She cared if Ash lived or died because of who he was, not just because he was a challenge. If he died it would be more than a failure; it would be a loss. Merlin would lose a fine, brave and loyal warrior. Juna would lose someone she admired and respected. And Eala would lose the only person she had left. The girl’s every movement and expression showed the fear she was feeling for Ash’s condition. Juna continued to mask any of her own apprehension for Eala’s sake. The healer couldn’t dwell on her feelings, however. The hole in Ash’s side had become badly infected, and he was showing signs that the infection was spreading. The young man seemed to be weakening. He allowed Juna to quietly clean the wound and get the bleeding under control. When Juna reached toward her supplies for a potion that would fight the infection, Eala beat her to the bottle, anxiously handing it over. A small smile of thanks let the girl know that she had been helpful. Juna then pointed toward another vial among the things laid out beside her, so that Eala could help again. This contained a mixture to dull pain. “Drink these,” she said to Ash, holding both containers for him to take. “I’m going to apply a strong medication that should draw the infection from the wound. Then I’ll have to sew it again. It will hurt, but you already know that. When I’m done you’ll feel better.” She waited a few minutes for the potions to be drunk, then applied the infection draining medicine to a cloth and pressed it tightly to cover the wound. It needed some time to work, so she held it in place. As she waited, Juna saw the sun’s light fade as evening encroached faster than she wanted. She had faith in her medication, but it would be crucial to see that all the infection had been drawn from the injury before it was stitched shut. The only way to know would be by her expert sight. While still holding the poultice to Ash’s side, Juna turned her head to face Eala. “I need light, Eala. To see,” she said slowly before nodding slightly toward Ash. Juna tried to communicate with her eyes that it was important. She hoped Eala would understand, and would be resourceful enough to help. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 13 2010, 11:07 PM Post #34 |
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Author: Elessars Girl Date: Wed Aug 06, 2008 8:39 am Arthur Arthur sensed some apprehension in Titrus’ voice as the soldier began to speak; not uncommon among the lower ranking men when faced directly with their Commander. And this was the first time that Arthur could recall having a word with this fellow one on one. The Commander wore his armour well, expression unflinching and officious despite his inward turmoil and physical discomfort. At any rate, there were few who could see through Arthur’s rugged exterior…thankfully. Arthur’s emerald gaze continued to focus solely on Titrus even though he was aware of Darya’s movements behind him. A child….God, please give me guidance.
A breach? Only the Woads would be so bold. So Merlin had been up to much more than Arthur had suspected, and what was of value within the walls of the outpost that the Woad leader would risk sending people in for? The Commander allowed Titrus to continue, wanting all the information the soldier had to report before taking action. Arthur’s fingers flexed into fists behind his back, out of sight from Titrus, and the lines in his thick brow deepened with concern as the man continued….
“Please convey my personal condolences to his family, Titrus,” Arthur addressed the news of the fallen soldier first. He then closed the distance between himself and Titrus and placed a firm hand on the soldier’s shoulder. “You have managed the situation to my satisfaction and quite well, Titrus. Captain Barbattus speaks highly of you and for good reason,” Arthur offered with a small nod of appreciation for the soldier’s efficient handling of the breach. “Double the patrols along the corridors closest to the wall and post additional outlooks on the ramparts,” Arthur dispensed his orders and then released his grip on Titrus’ shoulder. No doubt Merlin’s rescue party had fled the fortress as quickly as they had entered….but what was so valuable about the prisoner? Why would they risk such a mission? Curious. Arthur had begun to turn away from Titrus as he thought on everything the man had reported when the soldier spoke again…
Arthur returned his attention to Titrus giving a slight nod indicating that he may continue when a knock came at the door. God willing, this would be a messenger with the news that Scipio’s party had returned….at least that is what Arthur prayed for as his gaze turned towards the door. He lifted his hand to indicate that Titrus hold for a moment. “Come,” Arthur called out to whoever had knocked. He blew out a small breath and reached up to scrub thick fingers over his stubbled jaw while still deep in thought. His side twinged and his stomach softly rumbled with hunger. But Arthur ignored both as he began to mull over what further precautions should be taken to ensure the safety of the fortress. He now had an unborn child of his own to worry about….and that brought on a completely new level of worry for Arthur. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 13 2010, 11:09 PM Post #35 |
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Author: Darya Date: Wed Aug 06, 2008 12:17 pm Darya and Neeve
Darya choked on her water as she listened to what Titrus had to say and scoffed quietly, stiffling the noise by pressing a hand to her mouth. Her dark eyes then shifted from one man to the other while they were talking as she wanted to know the details. A security breach? Again? Gods, would there ever be a peaceful quiet night again? And yet some more blood has been spilled? Damn those Woad creatures! How could she feel safe when it seemed that Woads could come and go as they pleased these days? And for a moment, a part of her wished she had attacked…and maybe even killed…Guinevere when she had had the chance. When the Woad had openly threatened her and Arthur. Would things be different now if that had happened? The Sarmatian could not know…but for some strange reason, she thought it would have made her feel…better. “Are there any hints or tracks on how and where the rescue party has managed to enter the fortress?”, the dark-haired dared to ask in a neutral tone and for the first time actually met Titrus' gaze with her dark one. Maybe the attack had left worse damage to the wall and the gates than she had assumed. However, if there indeed was a weak spot somewhere, it should be taken care of immediately, should it not? And suddenly there was yet another knock at the door… Immediately, the Sarmatian’s eyes snapped up and shifted towards the wooden door. The Optio?
So he was awake. Neeve had yet to decide whether or not she liked that fact. The Commander should be sleeping. On the other hand it would now be much easier to check on his injury again. However, personally, the healer would have appreciated it a lot to see a guard standing by Arthur’s door to avoid too many interruptions…or any at all. She would probably mention that once she had the chance to. Lifting her chin a little, the Briton then pushed the door open and entered the familiar room with firm strides, allowing the door to click shut behind her as she did so. Her crystal-blue eyes immediately took in the situation and Neeve arched an eyebrow at the Commander. The man was almost fully dressed…and he was not in bed as he was supposed to be. And he looked like a mess… The healer’s lips pressed into a thin line and her grip on the basket with food and spare bandages tightened as she approached Arthur and the man he was talking to. Another Roman by the looks of it. No doubt they were discussing some important military issue. Yes, she knew that Arthur as the Commander was a very busy man…but he would not be a capable busy man anymore if struck down by an infection, a fever or too high blood-loss. And to avoid that was damn well her job, thus Neeve could not care less for walking in on the Commander talking business… “I am sorry to interrupt, Sir…”, the raven-haired woman said and gave both men a nod in greeting. Her voice, however, indicated rather clearly that she was so not sorry…and definitely not happy with what she was seeing in the room, “…but your dinner is ready…” With that she lifted the basket in her hands slightly. “It would be a shame to wait until it is cold…”, Neeve added and stoically held the Commander’s emerald gaze, silently telling him that the food was not the only reason for her presence… Darya watched the scene before her with furrowed brow. She was honestly relieved to see the healer entering for she knew that Arthur needed medical attention. She also was curious about the way Neeve addressed the Roman and which he had noticed that the other night already, when the healer had tended to his and Lancelot’s injuries. Yet Darya also wanted to know what else Titrus had intended to say. Were there even more bad Woad news? The Sarmatian smirked briefly at her almost ironic thoughts and silent wordplays about Woads…but then lowered her gaze towards the mug she was holding in both her hands…and sipped the last bit of water… After all, there absolutely nothing funny in this situation…or her situation for that matter. But what could or should she do? What? |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 13 2010, 11:10 PM Post #36 |
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Author: Unicorn Date: Wed Aug 06, 2008 1:15 pm Dagonet Dagonet saw how she avoided his eyes... and in truth he could not blame her for it. He was in a deep sorrow and deep pain... It must have been reflected in his eyes. It must be a difficult moment to her also. Moment of uncertainty and fear over the person she loved. The tall knight understood that completely. Was there relief in her as he answered? A deep breath out told him of tension that was in her a moment before and it was a surprise to him also. Gods... he was bringing so much pain to the people around him. She leaned over and kissed him gently. And he tasted this kiss with a frown of worry... he should be strong for her now... he should have stayed strong for all of them. He will be once more strong. He had to find strenghts in him again. But in the same moment sorrow crept into his heart and fear cascaded on him with force. Gedeon will never feel Linnette's lips upon his...
Her whisper made him look back at her and... thank the gods, that she did not saw his expression of fear and guilt. Thank you... For trying to be strong. For assuring her that everything will be alright once more. He wished he could believe it stronger... He wanted to believe, but for now it was too hard. Saoirse stood up and tried her leg.
Dagonet had a frown of worry over his face as he was looking at her. No problem... He should be there for her to take care of the wound and to help her in walking... In anything. Instead he was helplessly laying there and watching while she was struggeling to walk. He watched her for moment as she walked to the door... Then he sighed deeply and his eyes went closed. Everything was damn complicated... too hard and too painful. How to cope with this? And in addition he felt so weak because of the wounds.... because of numb pain in his side. He rised his hand to rub his face from tiredness... His injured palm was still aching him slightly at the movement. Gods... He was a wreck of a man. His body broken, his soul broken... his heart aching with every breath. He stilled himself on the bed and allowed his awerness to fly away before Saoirse returns... |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 13 2010, 11:13 PM Post #37 |
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Author: LadyCastus Date: Wed Aug 06, 2008 3:44 pm Titrus
"Oy, commander," Titrus replied with a sharp nod of his head as Arthur continued,
"Thank you sir!" Titrus said, tipping his head once again, still focusing only on the bridge of Arthur's nose.
"Oy sir! It will be done as you have commanded." The dark-haired woman next to Arthur had choked on her drink as Titrus relayed his message. She was seemingly disturbed by the details. Titrus wasn't sure who she was but she must have held Arthur's confidence since he had allowed to remain in the room while the Romans discussed such delicate issues such as security. Before Titrus could continue with the rest of the news, the woman spoke,
Titrus looked his eyes off of Arthur and looked at the woman, quite surprised that she'd asked him a question. "Erm, yes ma'am," Titrus replied. "Like I told the commander, we can tell they penetrated the fortress at the side gate. It was damaged pretty badly during the last attack and we're pretty sure that's how they got in...." he said, "but it's been completely repaired. It's not possible to breach that gate again," Titrus added quickly to assure the commander that there would be no further incidents at that side gate. Arthur still stared at Titrus with knitted brows, but finally acknowledged the knock on the door.
Just then another dark haired woman entered into Arthur's quarters, carrying a basket. The smell of food assaulted the lieutenant's stomach which reminded him that he hadn't eaten at all that day. Titrus recognized this woman however, as one of the fortress healers. He nodded his head slightly in recognition but the woman looked serious and not in the mood for casualities.
Titrus looked back to Arthur and said, "Pardon me sir, but the last bit of news that I wanted to relay was that we found a woman's clothes in an alleyway just behind the dungeons. It appears that maybe the clothes were a disguise which were discarded after the breach. We believe that at least one of the rescuers was a woman." With the last bit of his rehearsed speech now spoken, Titrus waited for further orders or a dismissal from Arthur. Malcus Barbattus
The optio's words still rang in Malcus' ears as he stormed through the barracks gate. The captain's heavy cloak flapped behind him like wings as the cold evening wind kicked up. But Malcus was so furious, the cold did not relieve the intense heat that singed his skin from his unbashed anger. The captain had deposited the woad prisoner back into the cells, kicking and screaming like a hell cat. He had scratches to prove it. At least he saw to it himself that she had clean straw, a couple of blankets and fresh water before he left. Fucking optio! Fucking woads! FUCK!!!! the rant went on inside his head. Malcus approached the guards on duty and they saluted. One of them, surprised to see Barbattus, spoke, "Captain!....." "Not now," Barbattus said without saluting to the young man and without stopping. "I'll be in my quarters and I don't want to be disturbed." "But Captain..." the young guard tried again. Barbattus whirled on his heel and rushed the guard so quickly that the young man's eyes bulged and his mouth fell open. "If it is not a matter of life and death," Malcus growled through gritted teeth, "especially YOUR OWN, didn't I just say LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE?!" The brave young man swallowed hard and said, almost a whisper, "Y.Y..Y yes, sir, but I..I...uh, I just wanted you to know that Titrus is in with the commander, informing him of the breach," Malcus froze. "What breach?" The captain felt the pain increase in the middle of his forehead as the guard relayed the story. Woads. Behind the wall. Again! "Very well," Malcus said, struggling to control his temper, "thank you for the report. I'll be in my quarters. No one is to disturb me, not even Titrus. I will speak with him later. Am I clear?" "Yes, sir" the two guards said in unison as Barbattus strode past them and down the long dark corridor toward his room where he would await his fate. He opened the door of his room, slammed the door behind him and yanked his cloak off, throwing it across the room. Malcus could only imagine the picture the incompetent optio would paint for Arthur. It was absurd. Malcus was a decorated war officer while the optio couldn't negotiate himself out of a chapel service! Clearly the man was scared nearly to death but the captain knew that would not be the story Arthur would hear. Barbattus removed his chest plate and hauberk, then went to the basin and splashed cold water on his face. His hands gripped the sides of the basin until his knuckles went white. Taking deep breaths, trying to harness his fury, Malcus crossed the room and lay down on his bed, looking up at the ceiling. The captain knew if Amadeus wanted it, Malcus could be severely punished for insubordination. The thought made his stomach roll. Malcus had been schooled by his own father and Uther Pendragon and never before had he been accused of contempt or insubordination. Malcus closed his eyes and cringed. "I hope it is Arthur who comes for me," he said to the empty room, "otherwise, instead of insubordination, I might be charged with murder." |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 13 2010, 11:15 PM Post #38 |
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Author: SarmatianKnight Date: Wed Aug 06, 2008 3:45 pm Lucius Lucius had been trained to open his eyes and look. His father had known how important it was for a merchant to always be one step ahead, to know more than the possible customer did, to look and see. Lucius had learned that lesson easily. It was all in their eyes and he was a good observer. So he recognised the darkness in Derfel's expression and it was this darkness that told a whole story about pain, which reminded him in an odd way of himself. Maybe it was this memory that kept him from a kind but straight forward comment. His gaze lingered a moment longer than necessary on Derfel though, reading the signs he saw. The delivered barrell ended the close examination immediatly. Lucius' scars were well hidden indeed: beneath his shirt and deep down in his soul. Both, the physical and the mental scars, were his own and most private scars he did not intend to share with anyone else. In most of the fights he had been in (and these were really just a few smaller ones) he had been lucky enough to use more his bow than the sword - which allowed him to add some space between himself and the enemy. He planned to stick to this strategy if it was possible. Somehow. The look on the woman's face and the way how she eyed Derfel up and down was quite funny and Lucius had to lower his eyes. He did not want to laugh out loud right now because... well, he did not really know (yet) how the tavern wenches of this island could be but he had seen how they had acted in other countries when they had been upset. And personally he had certainly not to face this excerience himself.
With a raised eyebrow the Roman cocked his head. The movement ended in a shake of his head and he grabbed his own ale. "Your barrell, your fun. Cheers." After a good swig he added: "I assume you can use it and I heard that Saxons are quite good drinkers." He had no problems with the fact that he, a Roman, was sitting here and drinking ale with a Saxon. As he would have drank with every other man at the fort. Every other man he liked.
Lucius put the ale back onto the table and gave Derfel a surprised look. He had done what the whole day?! The question was obviously reflected in his eyes but all he said after a long moment was: "Nice activity." He nodded to underline his words, before again he shook his head. "No news, no Woads as far as I know. All has been quiet and again I can just say that they won't return. Not now. They are Woads and pagans but they are not stupid. Some people seem to forget that at times." Lucius stopped. He was not in the position to question things again but it was hard. His gaze focused on his new friend again and the observing look was back. "Can I ask you something?" |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 14 2010, 09:13 PM Post #39 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Wed Aug 06, 2008 9:02 pm Linnette and Linnesse The day’s light was failing, the orange sun no longer visible from behind the fortress wall as they were, when Linnette finally left the new quarters, shutting the door quietly behind her. Derfel had gone at least a quarter of an hour ago, ostensibly to get some food, though Linnette suspected that that was not his whole reason. As things had been put into place, and as she and Linnesse had fallen to talking, and the shadows grew longer and the windows darkened, the apartment had taken on a sorrow-filled, oppressive air. Derfel, who had said hardly anything all afternoon, had probably been glad to leave it, and Linnette was both glad to have him gone and, now, glad to leave it herself, to the extent that she could be glad of anything. Linnesse was once more asleep. Pronouncing that she was not that hungry, and too tired to either go to the tavern or wait up for Derfel’s return, anyway, she had already changed into her nightdress and allowed Linnette to tuck her into bed in her and Derfel’s inner room. After that, with a heavy silence replacing even the morose conversation, and the dark ever-increasing, Linnette truly couldn’t stand it in the apartment any longer. She had told Derfel- or more accurately, allowed Linnesse to imply- that she wasn’t going anywhere, and was going to get some rest herself, but that was out of the question. The thought of lying down, in Gedeon’s bed, but with no Gedeon, in a strange room, and with his saddlebags still packed and standing like twin lumpy ghosts against the wall in the small corner she could call her own- it was unthinkable. Casting desperately about in her mind for something to do, she lit upon the idea of visiting the infirmary, seeing if Dagonet was up to company. She had almost forgotten about the older man since yesterday in the courtyard, and that omission gave her a stab of guilt. She should go and see him- he was family now, and he was wounded, and he grieved, too. Having made up her mind, she moved more quickly and purposefully, locating her cloak and shouldering it, and making a cursory attempt to fold under the edges of the bandages on her hands, to try to make them as narrow, and therefore inconspicuous, as possible. Not that it made much difference. They were still bandages, and the left one, at least, was very necessary. After the work of the afternoon, her hand ached worse than ever, a tenderness and fragility punctuated by stabbing pain whenever she did anything that overstrained it, which was most things. One of the bones of the hand was cracked, probably- Linnesse had agreed with her initial assessment, clucking worriedly over the injury while she redid Drake’s bindings with fresh cloth. And she had done an excellent job. The hand felt nicely supported, the wrappings tight but not too tight and scrupulously neat. There was, in fact, hardly any extra to tuck in, but Linnette was still fiddling with it self-consciously as she stepped away from her now-closed door. Dagonet would ask her about them, and she hadn’t decided yet what she would tell him- whether he could be one of those who knew the truth or not. Almost no one did, of course- only Linnesse and Drake, though Linnesse had probably either told Derfel already, or would soon. Damn it. Wasn’t there any escaping Derfel knowing every embarrassing detail of her emotional life? Apparently not, and even less so now that they were housemates. Linnette’s discontent was enveloped in a growing loneliness as she started down the corridor, heading for the exit. Ahead of her, up the hallway, one of the officer’s wives shepherded her two small children out of one doorway, and called a cheerful greeting to someone else in another nearby room. Linnette managed a faint social smile as the woman looked over at her, too- but the shift of the other woman’s expression into pity as she saw her made nothing better. Pity was only a reminder of what had caused Linnette’s sorrow, and a humiliating one, too, and she was suddenly loath to walk any closer and invite conversation. She slowed her steps, uncertainly- then made a sudden, unpremeditated turn to the right, to where the door next to hers, she had just noticed, stood open, and where the failing light revealed the presence of a figure inside. She could ask Drake to go with her to the infirmary- the sudden wild thought appeared full-blown in her head. It was presumptuous, not to mention cowardly and silly, of her, but maybe…she approached closer, within the doorway of Drake’s room, now, but with the request no more than a dry powder in her throat that she could not articulate- but then nervousness melted into surprise as she saw what, exactly, Drake was doing. “You…you can read?” she blurted abruptly, staring down at the book- a real, bound book, unmistakable even in the dim window light- that Drake held open in his hands. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 14 2010, 09:14 PM Post #40 |
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Author: lady ione Date: Wed Aug 06, 2008 9:25 pm Adian His eyes stared blankly out the window at a world that had seemed much brighter only days ago: wheat colored hair that glistened in the sunlight like Autumn leaves in the early morning, lips a lovely blush and soft as the finest satin. Adian felt lost and confused. Nothing made sense right now... being taken to the Woad camp...Juna....the battle...the spear wound which was still healing... Damn it all! If he had not lost his temper to that insufferable woman, Linnette, then he would not have left the fort, and he'd have still been here to protect Thorn and their child. Adian felt hate and loathing for himself. For his thoughtless act....thinking of no one but himself. He rubbed his hands up and down his arms feeling the still healing wound itch a bit. Was he using Tatiana? He was not sure, but she had been there for him...left him feel her body as they bathed...had felt her close to him. No, he liked her alright, and wanted to make her happy....
Tatiana's voice seemed distant, and yet so close. Slowly, Adian turned so that his eyes locked on to hers. In them was everything he wanted to say to her: That he liked her a lot, that he was happy she'd marry him, the sadness he was still feeling. Without hesitation, and with his eyes still on hers, the young man walked over to her, and kissed her passionately, then held her close. She seemed so fragile. Adian just allowed himself the luxury of holding her, his fingers running through the soft strands of copper, "No...there is nothing wrong in seeking comfort in someone else, Tatiana. Thank you for being here for me." Thank you, Fiona...for just being there. I will never forget you, and hope we meet again. Adian began to slowly dance, his right hand resting on Tatiana's waist, his left hand finding her hand entwining his fingers with hers. He began to softly sing a ballade with a nice tune to it. Adian's eyes closed, then opened as he moved Tatiana a bit from him so he could study her features while they danced...
The sun was setting now, and it was a perfect time to get Thorn's memorial site set up. In his mind, he had thought it a perfect plan to do so, but what if the woads stole her sword, then he'd have nothing of her to remember her by. Adian looked at his dance partner, "You know, sweet memories are best, I think. Monuments and grave sites can't compare with golden memories and thoughts...times shared." He cast his glance to the empty place above the fireplace. "I think I will make a decorative wooden display for her sword and hang it above the fire place. Thorn would have liked that...." As for the other of her questions, Tatiana was definitly one not to waste time. Adian chuckled, "You can move in anytime you wish to. You are right, it will help us to get to know each other better...." |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 14 2010, 09:15 PM Post #41 |
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Author: golden_trillium Date: Thu Aug 07, 2008 8:59 am Tristan So it hadn’t gone well. Tristan had expected anything different, really- it wasn’t like Merlin was going to lie down and acquiesce to any demands the Romans might make- but it still gave the return to the fort a sour, unproductive, frustrating air. The Optio and the Captain were both plainly furious, the aura of anger surrounding each of them almost thick enough to touch. Once at the stables, the fuming Scipio ordered Barbattus peremptorily to take the prisoner back to the dungeons and then report to his quarters, which he did, and Scipio stomped off as well, no doubt to fill Arthur in on the disaster. Really, though, they were all just lucky they didn’t have arrows in their backs. Merlin could have done it- could have ordered it with a tiny wave of his hand. It was just the luck of the Gods that he hadn’t. Tristan swung off Tirgatao in the courtyard before the stables, where Scipio and Barbattus had left their horses. Mordred was dismounting not too far away, and Jols was there, too, awaiting their return, as unobtrusively helpful as ever. Rather uncharacteristically, Tristan felt the urge to vent, and as he led Tirgatao past the squire, words spilled over the edges of his lips. “They fucked it up,” he muttered bad-temperedly to Jols. Merlin "Underworld take them," Merlin muttered, spitting on the ground beside him in contempt as the Romans and their Sarmatian slave rode away into the gathering darkness. They had taken Neeria again at the last- her struggles and a too-late grab by the warrior who stood nearest her had availed nothing- but other than that, they were well gone. And as for Neeria- well, she must have been a traitor after her. Why would the Roman dog have gone to such effort to retrieve her if she had not truly helped them? Merlin straightened his back decisively as he settled mentally on that explanation. Truthfully, uncertainty still plucked at the back of his mind- Neeria was among the last people he would have expected to show weakness or indecision in the face of danger! How could she have turned traitor, and at so little provocation as Mona had said? But incredibly, it rather looked like it were true- and for the time being, that was Merlin's public stance. Neeria was a traitor- to the cause and the land and her people. As the thump of hoofbeats on the soft forest trails faded, Merlin signaled for his warriors to lower their bows. He knew they would still be aware, and keep watch, but the immediate danger from the fort seemed to have faded- and now, before they started the long, ever-darker trek back towards the main group up the trail, he wanted to know what was wrong with Mona, and what- what the hell!- had passed between Guinevere and the formerly-tied-up warriors- if that was indeed what they had meant. "How is she?" Merlin turned first in the direction of Mona, who sat slumped at the base of a tree, Juna tending to Ash not far off. Guinevere stood before her fellow rescuer, and the look that Merlin now turned on his daughter was stern and disapproving. "And what's this I hear about you leaving my warriors tied up? It did them no good, as you can see." He gestured towards the two bodies lying on the shadowed ground, a hint of anger now showing in his voice despite trying to suppress it. What reason could she have had for such a thing? |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 14 2010, 09:17 PM Post #42 |
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Author: Elessars Girl Date: Thu Aug 07, 2008 9:34 am Derfel By the gods the ale tasted sweeter than ever as Derfel downed his first full mug of the potent drink. The young knight had never been one to drown his pains and miseries with alcohol, but tonight that seemed the most logical thing to do. Except Derfel did not want to disappoint Linnesse….so he’d try to find a better way to deal with his troubles…after he’d drunk his fill that is.
“Aye,” Derfel snorted a laugh at Lucius’ comment on Saxons. However, the ‘Saxon’ knight truly had no idea about that notion. Both his brother and his father had been killed before Derfel had had the opportunity to get better aquainted with any Saxons. He slightly shook his head at that thought and took another generous swig of ale before the darkness could devour his thoughts again.
Quite an intelligent and informed opinion of the native Britons Derfel thought; rare to hear such logic coming out of a Roman’s mouth. Derfel gave Lucius a curious look before commenting. “No, they are no fools…their leader wouldn’t attack without a good reason,” Derfel answered with a somber tone as he lightly picked at the grain of the table with his free hand. Merlin was an intelligent man…and Derfel had a unique perspective on the Woad leader…he’d been the receiver of the old man’s compassion and care years ago. Odd to be on the other side of the Wall, so to speak, now as one of Arthur’s knights.
“Hm? Oh…sure ye can, friend,” Derfel answered amicably as he re-filled his mug and graciously topped off Lucius’ while he was at it. The medium sized barrel made a heavy clunk on the tabletop as he sat the heavy thing back down again. He was willing to talk about nearly anything to keep himself distracted from darker thoughts. Derfel had successfully avoided direct contact with Arthur since that night…..since the death of Aelle. And what of the Saxon King’s sword that Derfel now had carefully wrapped in cloth and stored in his quarters now? Could Derfel ever have the guts to lift that sword and wield it as his father had? The mighty sword had last been lifted against Arthur and thus had Derfel thinking he could not. The knight took another drink as he felt the darkness threatening him again….and prayed to Bel that Lucius could be a good friend and distract Derfel for a bit. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 14 2010, 09:18 PM Post #43 |
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Author: Kay Date: Thu Aug 07, 2008 11:27 am Guinevere The Woad princess watched the enemy ride away, and then she saw her father walking toward where she stood, with Mona near her feet. He looked at the unconscious Woad.
Guinevere was about to answer when Merlin turned to her; his face displayed his displeasure.
"Father" Guinevere said. "After you left to return to camp, I came back to fetch two or three of the warriors you had left behind, to accompany us on our mission. They were drunk! And one of them tried to molest me, so I took off his head, and bound the others to await your judgement. I did not believe for one second that Neeria would lead the Romans here. Has she turned traitor?" Guinevee shook her head and sank down onto a fallen log. "And as for Mona" she said, gesturing at the bloodied girl. "We saw the Sarmatian take Neeria on his horse, and we followed the group out of the fortress. When we reached the forest, she turned on me; she was like a crazed dog. I had to defend myself. I believe she has lost her reason. What is happening to us all, Father? Two of my best fighters are lost to our cause. I can scarcely believe it. Even Connell has abandoned us. He wandered away in the fortress" She looked up at Merlin; her eyes were wide with the shock and disbelief. |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 14 2010, 09:19 PM Post #44 |
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Author: LadyCastus Date: Thu Aug 07, 2008 12:44 pm Mona Mona lay on the ground, with her eyes closed, but she'd regained consciousness a moment earlier. She felt very cold, no doubt a result of the loss of blood she suffered from. She heard voices, voices that she recognized.
Guinevere. Father? Merlin? Is Merlin here? The filthy, bloodied woman, opened her eyes and, even though up-side down from her position, she saw Merlin standing just a few feet away from her. With all of her strength, she rolled over so that she saw him upright as a smile spread across her bloody, bruised, face. Mona leaned on one arm and outstretched her other arm toward the woad leader. Her spider-like fingers twitched and reached out, trying to touch the man. Blood oozed out the wounds in her head making a lightening streak down her contorted as she stretched, reaching out, smiling crazily. "Merlin," she croaked. "You waited for me." |
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| golden_trillium | Apr 14 2010, 09:21 PM Post #45 |
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Author: Elessars Girl Date: Thu Aug 07, 2008 3:05 pm Arthur Although the steely mask he wore as ‘commander’ concealed it, the news of the breach had particularly distressed Arthur since he now had another life to protect…his unborn child’s life. He gave Titrus a firm nod as the soldier seemed eager and competent to carry out the orders. Arthur would certainly speak to Malcus when the Captain returned….I pray to God for his safe return. We have much to discuss, my old friend. And where is Lancelot? Albeit, Arthur’s conscience quickly reminded the Roman that it was best not to know what kept his lieutenant.
Arthur’s gaze briefly ticked to Darya as his lover spoke. The question was a valid one as he was still interested in the details despite the threat being over. The Commander had felt a swell of anger the moment Titrus had first reported about a breach. I should have gone to Merlin myself the moment my men were safely behind the walls of the keep. He rubbed thick fingers across his lips and turned deceptively placid green eyes on Titrus again awaiting any further details from the soldier and awaiting for whoever had knocked to enter.
“I will trust you, Titrus, to be sure that none of our gates are penetrable,” Arthur clarified as he slightly lifted his chin to the soldier and crossed his arms over his broad chest. Arthur’s side twinged again, but he continued to ignore it…focusing instead on his concerns for the safety of the fortress and God willing, favorable news from Scipio’s mission to Merlin. The door opened and instead of the expected Optio or some messenger, it was Neeve that entered Arthur’s chambers…and carrying what appeared to be a basket full of food. Good. Well, in truth Arthur would have been more relieved had it been the safe return of his officers….but the raven haired Briton was always a welcome sight. No doubt she’d come to examine the Commander’s stitches and school him on why he should be resting and not seeing to his duties. Arthur inwardly sighed but kept an industrious gaze on Neeve's dark features.
“Neeve…what has kept you, hm?” Arthur quipped in reply and met Neeve’s stern expression with one of his own. Of course he knew the Briton only had his best interests in mind and the two had known each other many long years….thus Arthur’s gaze truly held no reproach for Neeve. The Commander had always regarded the healer with the affection of a blood relative and she knew it. And Arthur was famished. He also stubbornly accounted his current light-headedness to his painfully empty stomach….although there was more to it than that.
Guinevere. Who else among the Woads had a good working knowledge of the fortress? Merlin would send his own daughter on such a risky mission…he had before. “Thank you, Titrus. However, that is not a surprise,” Arthur said with a reassuring tone and then briefly gestured with one hand towards the door to indicate the soldier’s dismissal. “Come to me immediately if you learn of anything further,” The Commander finished and then turned to face Neeve and the rather inviting basket in her arms. “And what have you brought me, hm?” Arthur gave a small smile at the healer as he stepped towards the table expecting both ladies to follow. He would see to it that Darya ate as well….it was now more important than ever. “And before you begin lecturing me, I have rested quite enough today,” Arthur added with what he hoped was a convincing smile…but Neeve knew him nearly as well as Darya and Lancelot. He would not be able to conceal his true condition from the Briton for a moment longer. But, God willing, Arthur’s body would hold out until the soldier had exited the room. |
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