A/N: I realised I stole Theoden's name after I posted it…I did realise…but then I thought, ah well…it came to me as seeming right and I'm not going to change it. Just thought I'd acknowledge that it does indeed resemble a name from LOTR. When I say resemble, I mean mirror exactly…

Chapter Ten

Still clad in the ceremonial red robes, Auria galloped her horse through the dense trees towards the fortress, ignoring the branches which grabbed at her face and clothing. She had hoped to give the beast a few days' rest after the battle, but this was an emergency, and she urged it to go faster with whispered words of encouragement. How long had it been since Theoden had slipped away from the ceremony? Three hours? Four?

Enough time for him to reach the Roman garrison, certainly.

Auria only hoped she'd get there in time to stop whatever mischief he had planned.

Suddenly, the horse faltered mid-step. It had seen the scrap of tattered cloth hanging from a low branch and shied at the fluttering material. Auria smiled grimly – a good hunter looked out for clues, and this was a brightly-painted signpost. Now her keen eyes picked up footprints in the soft earth…Theoden was going to the fort, at least.

Dozens of thoughts raced though her mind, none of them pleasant. Foremost of all was the truce.

It must be upheld!

If Theoden made an aggressive gesture towards the Romans, they would descend upon the settlement like the Christian's Judgement Day. He would jeopardise the whole community by showing his face.

'But', Auria thought, 'perhaps he only wishes to kill silently and then slip away unnoticed'. The Romans would not be able to prove a Welshman had been in the fortress if he was not seen. 'No…they would blame the Welsh anyway' she decided. Rome would use any excuse to purge the countryside of its natives.

'I cannot allow them that excuse! Not after all Lindon worked for…'


The wall, Theoden noted with satisfaction, was left quite unguarded. A lone sentinel patrolled the defences on this side, and he was now moving away from the staircase which led up to the battlements. It was all well and good for Theoden's purposes, but said a lot about Roman overconfidence. Or complacency.

Silently, he ascended the stone stairs and crouched in the shadows at the top, thinking.

Arthur, the Roman commander, would be in the most comfortable part of the fortress, since he had status. But just where was that? Theoden had already decided to take his revenge on the man who had led Lindon and the woman to make such a bad decision…but putting the plan into practise needed more information.

His dark eyes scanned the dimly-lit courtyard below and came to rest on a tall figure. He smiled. No need to search – his quarry was standing right there, in the furthest corner of the enclosure.

To make sure, Theoden waited until the man moved beneath a torch and his face was lit up.

Yes, it was definitely Arthur. He was talking with another man – large and shaven-headed. It didn't matter – Theoden's aim was good.

He unhooked his bow from his belt and selected a long arrow. Killing the man would be easy, but it would not make Theoden's revenge any less sweet…


Tristan watched the man's ascent onto the battlements with interest. His clothing and character became visible as he slipped between the shadows – a Welshman, and an older one at that. What would such a man be doing sneaking into a Roman fortress in the middle of the night? Mischief, Tristan presumed, edging closer to keep the man in his sights.

The shadowy figure halted by the wall and looked down into the courtyard, where only a few people still roamed. Tristan knew that Galahad was down there, talking to a woman – he'd heard them as he'd watched the fire to the west. Arthur and Bors also held counsel, although their words were not clear enough to be heard properly. A few Roman soldiers lay in drunken stupors, but apart from that, the place was empty.

Even so, it looked like the Welshman had found what he was looking for. He unhooked his bow, strung it, and notched an arrow.

Tristan followed his aim, his mind calm despite the threat to one of the men in the courtyard. He noted with interest that the man seemed intent on shooting Arthur. As his hand drew back, so did Tristan's, and the arrow which loosed first sent a Welshman tumbling over the battlements, dead.

Tristan winced at the thud. He hadn't meant for the man to fall off the wall. Now keeping the event quiet would be difficult. Even as he thought this, the men below grew silent and turned to stare at the body. The scout mentally shrugged.

'You can't plan for everything'


"What the…?" Bors exclaimed as a body thudded into the ground across the square. His hand went to his sword and his eyes to the wall, scanning for enemies. Instead of a foe however, Tristan appeared from the shadows and peered down at the dead man.

"Tristan!" Arthur called. "What is the meaning of this?"

Tristan made his way calmly down the steps into the courtyard, long coat swishing around him, and met Arthur and Bors who had made their way over to the body. Galahad abandoned his woman and hurried over.

"He was on the wall" Tristan explained. "Aiming an arrow at you. I shot him"

"Who is 'e?" Bors wondered.

"Welshman" Tristan said.

"Are there any more?" Arthur asked, suddenly realising this could mark the beginning of an invasion. His scout, however, shook his head, braids dancing.

"No…just this one."

"What about the truce?" Galahad exclaimed.

"Yeah, we 'ad a truce!" Bors cried. "Bastards broke it!"

"No…" Arthur mused. "This man broke it. If there are no more…"

He trailed off, and Tristan studied him intently, reading in his face what he hadn't put into words. It was possible that this man were acting alone. The Welsh leaders would not want the truce to be broken…they would not send an assassin to the fort. They knew it would mean certain death for the natives. So why had this man come?

"Take the body" Arthur instructed his men. "Take it into the woods and leave it there. Say nothing of this to anyone"

"But…" Galahad began, and Arthur hushed him, his face betraying inner turmoil.

"I would like to believe the Welsh are more noble than to send this man to kill me. If he was acting alone – and it seems that he was – I would prefer that we ignore the act. I do not want to break a truce for the actions of one man."

"You mean…you don't want to slay the Welsh without good reason" Galahad said. Arthur nodded slowly.

"Let's go then" Tristan commanded, wanting to get the deed over with. Bors reached down to pick up the body, but was only halfway when an insistent voice cried out;

"What is the meaning of this!"

The four knights turned slowly to see Tolimus and a group of Roman soldiers appear from a dark doorway. The commander looked sleep-addled, but his eyes held an angry glare.

"What is going on here!" he demanded once again, and Arthur sighed audibly. It seemed he would not be able to hide the event as he had hoped.

"A man was on the wall, Sir" he informed the Roman. "My knight shot him"

"Why was he on the wall?" Tolimus asked, peering past Bors at the body. Bors didn't move to give him a better look – they were going to make this as difficult for him as possible.

Arthur shrugged. "We do not know"

"He is Welsh!" Tolimus concluded. "A Welshman in our garrison, in the middle of the night? What is this, an invasion?"

"It seems he was acting alone, my Lord"

"Hmph…whatever he was doing, he had no business here!" Tolimus scowled deeply. "He has broken our truce, it seems…"

"Perhaps not" Arthur argued. "Perhaps he was here to parley"

"At this hour? I don't think so." The Roman turned to one of the soldiers – a man Arthur recognised had been in the courtyard before and who in all likelihood had raised the alarm. "Have his body hung from the battlements. It will be a message to the Welsh that their days are numbered. Day, in fact...at dawn we will rally the troops and finish what we should have done last week"

"You mean to destroy the Welsh?" Arthur asked.

Tolimus smiled. "Yes. I expect you and your men to aid me. I have a special assignment for you, in fact"

Arthur nodded his assent, but inwardly he was cursing himself and the Roman commander. There was no way he could stop Tolimus…he just wished the man had not been alerted to the presence of the intruder. It looked like the Welsh would be doomed after all. As the body was hauled up to the wall by Roman soldiers, he sank into thought. Perhaps there was some way he could stay the killing, save some lives at least…or perhaps there wasn't.

Tristan was watching him closely.

"Arthur" he began. "There's nothing you can do. Accept our mission and see it through"

The scout followed the soldiers up to the battlements, and Bors and Galahad said goodnight, neither of them wanting to stay up any longer. It was just like Tristan to see things objectively – the man had little human feeling, it seemed. But then, as knights, they often couldn't afford pity. Tristan was right – Arthur just didn't want to accept it.


Auria broke through the trees, reining her horse in as the battlements loomed up before her – imposing in the darkness. The moon was hiding behind a cloud – starlight lent some illumination, but all she could see was cold stone, and shadows against shadows.

It was chill, and her breath misted in front of her face, reminding her of the late hour. It was dangerous to be alone so close to the garrison, but she would have to get closer if she were to follow Theoden.

Just then, the moon broke through the clouds, and she gasped.

Hanging from the battlements, limp and lifeless, was a body.


Tristan watched as the Roman soldiers tied rope around the dead Welshman's midriff and slung him over the wall, attaching the other end of the cord to a huge iron ring embedded in the stonework. As soon as they were finished they went back to the courtyard, leaving one of their number to continue the watch, just in case more natives were about that night. As the man paced slowly off, Tristan leant against the chill parapet and surveyed the woods, thinking on what had transpired.

The moon broke through the clouds, almost full, and bathed the surrounding countryside in misty luminescence. The lonely scout saw his hawk silhouetted against the pale orb, wheeling down towards the trees. Towards a figure on horseback.

Tristan's eyes narrowed. Just discernable…barely beyond the tree-line, someone gazed towards him. No, he thought…they were gazing at the body.

Whoever it was wasn't dressed like a Welshman. They were wearing long, heavy robes which covered much of their horse's hindquarters. The colour was almost lost in the shadows, but the moonlight suggested it was red – a rich colour, ceremonial and rare.

'Auria'

It could only be her. Tristan knew to trust his instincts.

Her presence was certainly bound up with that of the Welshman's…but in what way? Had she come to oversee his mission? Or had she come because he had acted without her consent?

The woman's expression was hidden by distance and shadow, but she seemed to sit stiffly in the saddle…tense and watchful. Even as he studied her, her shoulders slumped in defeat. Sometimes body language spoke more than words ever could. She was disappointed, but the question remained as to why.

With a last glance along the wall, checking to see if she had been noticed but missing the well-hidden scout, she wheeled her horse and disappeared between the trees.

Tristan rarely got caught up in the affairs of men, but he had to admit that tonight was turning out to be most interesting…


Auria could have galloped back to the settlement, could have hurried to warn her people of the broken truce and their impending doom, but she knew there was no use. There was no sign of movement within the camp as yet…no more sentinels on the walls. If the Romans had made a decision to march – and doubtless they had – they would not do so until dawn, at least.

Besides, the number of injured was too high to run. The community had no hope of moving in time. Auria felt that she had led them to a dead-end. She was responsible for their deaths in battle, and by being too late to stop Theoden, she was condemning them to a Roman attack.

She dreaded going back, but she knew she must.

All she could hope to do was present them with the situation, and ask them what they wanted to do. She would die helping them to safety, or die defending them. It was the only way she could redeem herself.

Despite her misgivings about returning, the settlement drew ever nearer, and before long she had reached the group of shelters which made up her home. Dismounting her tired steed, she made her way to Ganal's hearth. Everyone was asleep, it seemed, but her old friend had waited up and ushered her inside before she'd even knocked. He knew from the look on her face that things had not gone well.

"What happened?" he prompted as Auria sat down heavily on the floor, wincing as her weary joints ached.

"I was too late" she said.

"What for?" He only knew what the old man, Danwel, had told him. How Theoden had gone to the fortress and Auria had gone after him. Ganal had a bad feeling, but needed to hear it put into words.

"Theoden must have attacked the fortress…I don't know. They hung him from the walls"

"Dead?"

"Yes. He broke the truce. They will come for us"

Ganal looked grim. "We cannot move the injured"

"I know"

"We cannot fight the Romans"

"I know…"

Auria looked so dismal…Ganal knew she held herself responsible, but he also knew

that she wasn't. He put a hand on her arm.

"It seems as if our time is up…but we will face our destiny with honour"

"I do not believe in destiny"

They fell silent for a long time, then Auria said;

"Perhaps we can save some…"

"How?"

"Create a decoy…I would not ask it of everyone, only volunteers. It would be a suicide mission, but it may work…"

"What would they do?"

"When the Romans come, we would lead them away from the settlement. There must be enough of us to look as if we are the settlement…some would have to play the part of the injured. If the Romans think they have defeated us, they will not look further. All those left behind here would have a chance of survival…"

Ganal sighed painfully. "It is a good plan…but I have a better one"

"Yes?"

"You may not like it"

Auria grinned without humour. "Try me"

"Those who are uninjured have a better chance of survival. I say anyone who can, should flee north to our cousins. It is true that the injured cannot be moved…perhaps they should be our sacrifice"

Auria stared at her friend. Leave the injured behind to die? It sounded more than harsh…it was cruel, sacrificing those who couldn't help themselves. Ganal saw the look in her eyes and tried to placate her.

"They would volunteer to do it, I am certain! It may seem evil to you now, Auria, but it would work! Some of us would stay behind to defend them as best we can, but those who can flee should not be asked to lay down their lives! You must let the children…women…everyone who wishes to leave…you must let them go!"

"I do not want to leave people to die"

"They would not ask anything else of you"

Auria knew that Ganal was right. Everyone who had a chance at life should be allowed it. She nodded eventually.

"I will stay and defend them"

"As will I" Ganal agreed.

"But who will tell them?"

"I will do that…it was my idea. You are already taking too much onto your own shoulders. Do not let their fate rest upon you as well."

"That is hard…I feel responsible"

"If you must blame anyone, blame Theoden. If he is remembered, it will be because he was the oath-breaker."

Auria was silent. A dark cloud had settled upon her. In it she could see the deaths of her people…no, the people she had grown up with. She also saw her own death amongst them.

She did not wish to die here…