Well well – a new chapter! A few loose ends are tied up in this chapter in preparation, I suppose, for conflict ahead… Exciting, no? A couple of shout outs for this one – after the battle scenes a couple of reviewers (la argentinita, Furibondo, Homeric, Priestess of the Myrmidon) said some interesting things about the continuation of the Tristan crawling storyline and then Dickonfan well and truly set the ball rolling by suggesting the real reason (far better than what I had come up with).

So hope you enjoy this one and please review.

Usual disclaimers apply…

-celosia-

There was a loud knocking on the door. Tristan and Maye had been sleeping peacefully – it had been a busy and rather cold night so their warm bed was very inviting.

There was a pause in the thumping and the sound of muffled voices for a moment.

Maye groaned, the sound rumbling in her throat. "We don't have to get that, do we?"

Tempted as he was to say no, Tristan was well aware that it could be important. It did not stop him waiting a few moments for the person to go away though.

The knocking resumed before he could answer, this time accompanied by a voice.

"Tristan! Get your lazy ass out here!" Unmistakably Bors.

Maye felt the bed dip as Tristan struggled out from under the covers and the whisper of fabric as he pulled on a pair of britches.

The opening of the door allowed a rush of cold air into the room. Autumn was on its way. Tristan eyed the men standing at his door.

Gawain looked painfully cheerful. "Didn't get you up did we?" He had always been a morning person.

"Morning Maye!" He called out, wilfully ignoring the look of irritation on Tristan's face.

After a moment there was a muffled, "G'morning" from under the bedclothes.

"We're goin' hunting. Deer in the forest to the north."

Tristan almost groaned. Bors had always had a wonderful tact for stating the obvious, and he had already gathered their intentions from the knives and bows hanging prominently off each figure. He had been roused from his lovely warm bed to be invited on a hunting trip in what was so far the coldest weather of the season!? Really there was little contest – spending half a day freezing his ass off with men he had spent most of his life with, in the hope of sighting a deer or two or going back to his bed and wiling away the morning with Maye. If he had been prone to loud outbursts he would have yelled his frustration.

But before Tristan could politely voice his refusal.

"Oh for the Gods sake man, if it isn't important, will you get back into bed?"

There was a stunned silence for just a moment before a sly smile curved Tristan's lips.

"Good hunting."

- - - - - -

'Poor Arthur'. Maye watched from the relative safety of the tavern while Arthur was constantly waylaid on his way across the courtyard. The poor man probably only wanted a drink and all these people were hassling him.

Readying a tankard for him, Maye thought ruefully that nobody would ever try to do that to Tristan. Even she would let him have the drink first and then begin nagging. Not that she ever nagged, of course. No doubt Tristan would do something unspeakable if she even tried it. Ha!

Maye was still chuckling dryly when Arthur eventually made it in the door. The look of relief on his face when she handed him the ale was almost palpable.

"Something funny, Maye?"

The smile bloomed again on her face as she gently herded Arthur to a chair. "Just Tristan."

Arthur looked almost startled. He had obviously had a bad day – his sense of humour was dulled. "You find Tristan funny?"

"Parts of him, yes."

There was a long pause and Maye began to move off behind the bar before Arthur raised a hand.

"Maye there's been something I have wanted to speak to you about for quite a while." He motioned for her to take a seat.

Maye sat reflexively but her mind was elsewhere. Had she done anything? More to the point, had Tristan done anything? Or not done something?

"Do you remember after Badon hill I tried to talk to you about Tristan…" He could see that Maye hadn't yet figured out what he was talking about and continued, "… and you just about snapped my nose off."

That did it. Maye had felt horribly guilty for attacking Arthur. He had only meant to help them.

"Arthur, I'm sorry for…"

But he didn't let her get any further. "It's all right Maye. I know it was a hard time for you. What I was really wondering was whether you had talked to Tristan about the battle."

Maye almost snorted but realised who she was talking to just in time. She couldn't stifle the small, mocking smile, though. "Talk? No we haven't really talked about it."

"It's just that whenever Badon comes up in conversation or in the talks we're having with the Britons, Tristan just shuts down"

Ah, now Maye had it. Damn Tristan's meddling friends! Sure they could be endearing and useful at times and she now counted them all as close friends of her own. But they really were an interfering lot.

She sat up straighter, still no match for Arthur's height but it helped. "You mean how he crawled – that's it isn't it?"

Arthur had the grace to look just a bit guilty. "Yes, well we think that might be it."

"Well, I don't think that it's a problem but I suppose we were all going to have to jump this hurdle sooner or later, so we'll just ask him, won't we?"

Arthur gulped. "You mean, just… straight out?" There was a pause. "Are you sure, Maye?"

She patted him on the shoulder kindly, her frosty act temporarily disappearing. Poor Arthur – so much to worry about. "Of course. But we'll do it when all the others are here. I'm sure they've already laid odds."

Then with another laugh and a squeeze of his shoulder she was gone.

- - -

Tristan had a bad feeling about tonight. Really he did not want to go to the tavern but Maye had insisted he at least make an appearance. She had been muttering things all day – the only words he was able to catch being about 'horses and fences' and 'his bloody friends'.

When he tried to ask Maye about it, she just smiled blindingly at him and said it was nothing. And truth be told when she smiled at him like that, well, thoughts had a tendency of flying out of his head. And he had a feeling that Maye knew it.

It hadn't taken Tristan long to realise that this was never good.

So now here he was at the tavern, drinking, when he really wanted to be in the stables or sleeping. Anything really.

Suddenly Maye appeared at his side. Either she was getting quieter and more surefooted or he was losing his touch. She squeezed onto the bench next to him and let her gaze sweep the table. For a small woman she could really look quite commanding at times. And then Tristan noticed that any conversations around the table had stopped when Maye arrived and Arthur was clearing his throat in just that way. Oh no. Something was definitely going on.

"Ah, Tristan there's something we wanted to asked you."

Tristan looked at Arthur with suspicion. His commander seemed… nervous and Arthur was never nervous when giving orders or instructions.

"Yes?"

"Ah, right then. Maye?"

As all eyes turned to the woman perched next to him, Tristan was all too aware of the amused and all too knowing smile on Maye's face. It slipped for a moment though and she looked almost apologetic before speaking.

"Love, why did you crawl away from Cerdic?"

Tristan unhurriedly raised his glass and drank slowly, his eyes never wavering, his head never dipping.

Maye was enjoying this. It was a dangerous thing to underestimate her scout.

And then finally he spoke. "Was looking for another weapon."

There was a collective moment round the table while everyone released the breath they had been holding and pondered his answer.

And then it began. Everyone turned on Lancelot.

"Well who got it?" asked Gawain.

Lancelot was looking smug. "Gal and Arthur put money on getting away, you put it on a 'good' death whatever that may mean, Bors was broke and Maye put it on trying to live.

Galahad now spoke, "So who gets it?"

"None of you. Although I may consider giving Maye a cut of the winnings."

"What do you mean?"

Arthur knew. It was really only too clear. "It means he won the coin."

"What!"

Tristan was torn between amusement and exasperation. They put money on this?! Even Maye had placed a bet! He looked at Lancelot, still sporting his triumphant smile. "What did you think?"

Lance shrugged. "Looking for another weapon. Knowing you and then watching you two the night before, it couldn't have been anything else. There's no way you'd turn away from that."

There was a cry of "Inside information", from Gawain and the resulting arguments drowned out anything else.

Maye leaned close to Tristan so he could hear her and asked the question that had been worrying her. "You don't mind do you?"

She tilted her head slightly, so he in turn could whisper in her ear. "No not really. As long as I get part of your winnings."

- - - - - - -

"Tristan?"

"Hmm?"

"Remember that time when you were still healing, and you tried to leave me?"

He remembered. "Yes?'

Maye rolled her head to see his face. "Why did you do it?"

Tristan wasn't really sure he wanted to answer that question. It would mean the revelation of one of his deepest fears. But then this woman had been through so much (a lot of it because of him). One more thing could hardly matter. And it had been troubling him.

"I weigh you down. You could do better." He watched Maye closely but her face was closed, unreadable. The words continued as if forced from him, "You could do so much better. I'm a killer, a fighter. I've never worked an honest day's work in my life. I'm not gentle or caring or reliable. I'm stubborn, I don't talk much and I don't like being beholden to anyone." He paused. "I'm not what most women would wish for in a man."

A small smile was forming on Maye's lips. "So why me, eh?"

Unwillingly, an answering smile was drawn form him. She seemed so completely unfazed by what he had just disclosed.

Still holding his eye, Maye leaned over and softly grasped one of his braids, tugging slightly until their faces were inches apart. "Because you're what I want."

Letting go of the braid, she sat up fully. "Can you imagine some upstanding member of the community taking to me? I work in a tavern. I associate with knights, mercenaries and soldiers, whores and foreigners. I can cook well enough and tend animals but other domestic things tend to be left by the wayside. I can fire a bow…"

She stopped, seeing the glint in his eye. "Shall I continue?"

He shook his head, braids shaking sinuously. "I think I get it. We've both been wondering how we deserve the other."

She smiled archly, leaning back to rest on her elbows. "Actually I've been wondering whether escaping the presence of a mother-in-law makes up for you meddling friends."

- - - - - -

Thanks for reading and please review!