Chapter 24

That afternoon, he was lounging in the tavern with the twins, Galahad and Tristan. Kation was nowhere to be seen, but Gawain had little doubt that the girl was close by.

The meeting was going to be so tedious! They always were, but this one in particular would drive them all to the edge of sanity. It was just a typical winter forecast and honestly, they all knew what the Woads were going to do: harass them at every opportunity and raid their supply trains.

"Bloody meetings," Galahad sighed, resting his chin on his hand. "Has some new information come in?"

"You never know, lad." Dinadan rumbled. He refilled the empty cups around the table with wine, and sighed. "Perhaps they plan a full-scale assault on one of the weaker forts."

"About as likely as them growing wings," Gawain said wryly.

"Until we know if there is anything new, we cannot afford to speculate." Cador said sharply. The scar on his forehead was testament to faulty information. It had been years ago but instead of a simple band of truants, Cador and Kay had run into a band of highly organised Woads in disguise. It had been a sharp learning curve, and Arthur had invested in networks of information.

Tristan remained silent, and sipped his wine. The man was getting better rapidly, but he still wasn't fighting fit. Sooner than any medicus or healer would have liked, the man was already practising in the Training Quadrant.

"And where is your delightful boy, Tristan?" Cador asked, turning the conversation away from the inevitable meeting and onto more dangerous topics. Predictably, Tristan's face darkened and he set his cup down.

"Do you wish to see him?"

His tone was so light and casual, that anyone who knew the scout could see it was as deadly as a snake, coiled to strike.

Cador, knowing he was in no danger, smiled widely. "Of course, we barely know him – he is a curious little creature isn't he?"

With an irritated flash of his dark eyes, Tristan shrugged. "He is on an errand. You'll have your chance to tease him some other time."

The banter ran back and forth until all too soon, it was time for the meeting.

They waved at the other knights around the tavern, and as a full company, they walked over to the hall of the Round Table. It had been another of Arthur's cute ideas, pulled straight out of the pages of his mentor Pelagius' teachings.

Romans were so bizarre.

Arthur entered a few minutes after they had all settled themselves in their seats, a stack of papers in his hands. Kation followed behind, carrying another pile of documents in a wooden tray.

"Knights," Arthur muttered distractedly, staring at the papers in slight puzzlement.

Kation rolled her eyes, (much to the silent amusement of the knights) and silently took over sorting the papers.

Arthur decided to keep talking, as if this was what he'd planned all along. "As you know, we're here to discuss the winter activities of the Woads, and our preparations to counteract them." The knights groaned as one man and Arthur's brows furrowed in confused annoyance. "It is imperative," he soldiered on, "for they may be primitive, but that doesn't mean we can afford to underestimate their cunning."

It was the same damn speech he gave every year. Why didn't anyone tell him to just get on with it? Gawain resisted the urge to bury his head in his hands.

Kation had finished sorting the papers into their relevant piles, and retreated to stand behind Tristan's chair. Perfect behaviour.

"That will be all, Kation." Arthur said, dismissing the girl despite it being Tristan's right to command his slave. The insult, however slight, didn't win Arthur any favours, as several knights threw apprehensive glances at Tristan's stony countenance.

Kation also remained where she was, waiting for her 'master's' order.

Tristan nodded and flicked his fingers at her. She left silently, head held high.

Well, wasn't that the silent statement.

Gawain allowed himself a faint smile at their little display, especially in the face of Arthur's realisation of his discourtesy. The half-Roman coloured slightly, but otherwise remained on track. He picked up a piece of parchment and looked it over before clearing his throat. "Firstly, I need to inform you about the state of the supply trains coming from the western port, as this influences…"

This was going to be a very long meeting indeed.

~oOo~

I didn't see why I had been dismissed. If it was about secrecy, Arthur shouldn't have turned me loose upon his papers. But I had a part to play, so I left silently. I hadn't missed the mild offence done to Tristan, which is why I'd stayed until he dismissed me. No one would insult him in such a manner and get away with it on my watch.

I closed the door firmly behind me, and leaned against the opposite wall. It had been a busy day preparing all the documents for this meeting. I still didn't know why Arthur wanted to discuss the crop yields of the northern barons with the knights. They were men of action, who probably didn't want to be bored with such minutiae, no matter how they affected the state of play at the Wall.

On second thoughts, Kahedin would have been fascinated to know where things began. His mind was wasted on scouting. And Tristan might… if it directly affected his life.

I shut my eyes and sighed. Life was here was regular and boring. Nice and quiet. All the right phrases for this sort of 'adventure'.

And as I stood in that empty corridor, lit only by a single lamp at one end, that's when it all went to hell.

I was dozing lightly on my feet (something I had become very good at since being here) while waiting to be called back in, when I heard the noise. It was soft and slithering tap-tapping. Almost imperceptible. Initially, I paid it no heed. It was probably just a soldier or aide walking along one of the corridors. I heaved an involuntary sigh, and shifted my weight, almost stumbling as feeling returned to stiff joints. I'd have been better off sitting down, but I didn't want to be caught asleep, even if I had been up since dawn.

The slither came again.

Odd.

It wasn't a confident sound. It was like someone was trying to tip-toe on hob-nailed boots. I cracked open an eye and peered through my long hair at the corridor, not moving my head. I couldn't see anything in the gloom, and decided that this entire place really needed more torches.

The slithering came closer and grew more regular – was the unknown person becoming more confident? They were certainly trying to remain subtle.

"Boy?" a voice hissed, very close to me. I made a small noise in my throat, and made a show of waking up.

In retrospect, that was where I made my fatal mistake.

The knife slashed through my throat before I even had a chance to get a proper look at the man. The pain, the shock, was instantaneous and overwhelming. My eyes popped, and my mouth opened in a silent scream because I was choking on my own blood, my body fighting to breathe even as I gurgled and choked like a leaky pipe. This guy clearly knew what he was doing.

My legs gave way and I collapsed to the floor, clutching at my spurting neck and trying to make some sort of noise. I had to warn Tristan and the others.

My vision darkened and I fell onto my side. My lungs were burning and I was shuddering uncontrollably. I hated to go this way. And this tunic was going to need a serious wash.

I tried to move, but I couldn't feel anything… not even the agony in my neck…

This was it. The end.

Temporarily, anyway.

How long would it take for me to come back? Would I wake up in a shallow grave? I certainly hoped it wouldn't be a funeral pyre… that would be really, really painful.

And then… nothing.

My experiences of death are all the same: darkness and stillness. I was dimly aware of a scratching sensation around my neck, like thousands of nails on my skin and inside… it was unpleasant and I knew that those freaky 'thou-shalt-not-die-until-I-say-so' powers were at work. So I waited and waited… praying I would wake up in time to stop the assassin.

Maybe Arthur's long-winded style would save him… this one time at least.

~oOo~

Arthur droned on and on. These were the meetings which elder knights like Bedwyr had told him were fun. Under Arthur's father, Uther, there had been some wine, some fruit… apparently it had been a relaxed and enjoyable affair.

Now, the trapped knights were on the verge of sleep. Bors had actually propped his chin up on his hands in an effort to stay awake. Lancelot was blinking furiously, and Gaheris had a faraway look on his face.

Only Kahedin and Tristan seemed remotely interested in the tensions resulting from traders' taxes in Eboracum. The scouts were a pair of creepy bastards – Tristan with his open enjoyment of killing and Kahedin with his distant, predatory demeanour. But when they felt like being sociable, they could be more charismatic than Lancelot. It was bizarre and deeply unsettling.

The lecture turned to Woads, and finally the knights perked up slightly. Now important things were being discussed. Maybe Arthur would let Galahad go out on patrol this year.

In years past, Arthur had forbidden him from patrol duties, reasoning he was too small and that bandits and Woads would target a more vulnerable looking horseman. He resented this 'babying' deeply. But over the past spring and summer he had finally grown. Only in his arms and legs at the moment, but he was becoming more powerful every week. Tristan and Kahedin were now helping him to refine his horseback archery, and Gawain had decided he was strong enough to start learning about lance-work.

This had been a good season. Even Arthur had noticed (and been impressed) at his improvement.

It was his time to step out of the Training Quadrant. He would go on regular patrols!

"And now for patrol pairs for the winter," Arthur pulled out yet another scroll and cleared his throat. "Lancelot and Kahedin; Dagonet and Dinadan; Bors and Cador…"

"Hang on! Why am I with him?" Dinadan said loudly, shooting a concerned look at his smiling brother.

"You two bicker too much." Dagonet's good-natured rumble silenced all protestations.

And that left…

"Tristan and Galahad."

His heart sank. Why was he with that awful man? Didn't Arthur know that they had a similar relationship to Kahedin and Gaheris? He opened his mouth to protest, but noticed Dagonet's hard look and meekly subsided. Another time.

Arthur had just started in on duty rotas, when they heard an alarmed cry just outside the door.

Not waiting for an order, or even looking at each other, every man leapt into action.