I own nothing in this story that seems familiar. You already know that. Enid, Holly and I wish it were otherwise.

Thank you to the beta team! This one was a collaborative effort! The three of you are truly remarkable.

To everyone who took the time out to review chapter 9, thank you. I mean that from the bottom of my heart. You know who you are.

If this chapter raises more questions than it answers, the next chapter will probably make you want to rip your hair out.

"If you can look into the seeds of time, and say which grain will grow and which will not, speak then unto me."- William Shakespeare

Chapter 10

Holly heard the faint notes of festive music and was immediately drawn to it. It had been several weeks since there had been a celebration at Camelot and the new king, it seemed, was a generous sort. She peered through the dense forest, reaching its edge without even realizing the speed at which she moved. That constant invisible barrier forbade her to go any further and Holly leaned against a tree, sighing quietly.

The night seemed to be draped in a cape of white, the torches gleamed on the freshly fallen snow, making it sparkle. Great tufts of smoke billowed into the sky and she imagined the heavenly sent of meat roasting. In her mind's eye Holly saw the colors of the women's skirts swirling as they danced, saw their partners smiling gaily at them as they twirled about.

She heard the sounds of mingled laughter and conversation, tasted the tangy sweetness of mead on her tongue. The urge to join them, to be one of them even for one night caused a sharp pain of sorrow in her chest. Holly swallowed hard and forced herself to turn away from the glittering sight.

There was nothing to be gained from such a powerful longing. How many times over the years had she wished of such things? Death was cold and lonely, but it had its advantages, and she had schooled herself in this half existence knowing that life was something that envy could never return to her to, no matter how strong she felt it.

A deep and cold shudder ran through her that Holly knew had nothing to do with her melancholic thoughts. She gasped at the force of it and turned to the east. Someone was near her oak tree. With an instinctive urgency she had not felt in a long time, Holly knew that something was wrong. She moved quickly and soundlessly through the forest toward the source of the disturbance she was feeling so strongly.

Her ties to the tree were elemental; thus far only one other person had guessed the importance of the tree and confronted her with it. He had never mentioned it again, although she suspected Tristan knew the tree had a special power over her.

Holly stopped short once she realized who the intruder was. Mab sensed her almost immediately and she ceased mid-scrape, the witch's wiry hand curled tightly around the hilt of a dagger. A dagger she was using to remove large chunks of bark from the oak tree. Words of warning jammed in Holly's throat as the crone lifted her head slowly and sniffed the air in a peculiar way.

Her thin mouth twisted, exposing a few rotting stumps of teeth. A dry menacing chuckle carried on the wind toward her, making Holly's skin prickle in awareness. Mab, Holly knew, could always sense her. She had no doubt that the woman could see her. There was, however, a reason that the ghost did not approach the witch.

The plain truth of it was that she was afraid of her. Holly had always been afraid of Mab.

The old woman turned in a quick, uncanny move for one so ancient. She tucked the torn pieces of bark she had collected into the folds of her cloak before she turned her focus on Holly.

The way her eye unnaturally swiveled in her socket made Mab appear much more menacing and unholy than she usually did.

Despite her ragged, worn appearance, the old woman was wily and strong and Holly had always known that Mab was not to be underestimated.

There was a strange and piercing presence that surrounded her and in spite her misgivings, Holly had felt drawn toward her.

She had, however, wisely kept her distance from the strange woman, knowing in her heart that there was an absence of compassion as well as an unexplained darkness surrounding the old woman, no matter her fragile appearance.

Tonight it was no different. If anything, Holly was more frightened now of Mab than she had ever been.

The crone stared at Holly and the ghost felt pinned under the piercing light blue gaze, unable to move or even to speak. A thick blackness closed in around her, squeezing her chest and making her ache. It was as if a phantom hand had reached out to hold her in place.

"What…what do you want with the tree?" Holly forced the words out, as each one pained her. Mab chuckled again and patted her now full pockets.

"The time is nigh for harvesting," the old woman replied, as she patted the now-naked part of the trunk. Holly blinked in confusion. Then she watched as Mab bent at the waist and began to brush snow from the base of the tree with her hands, pulling out a small shovel and stabbing the earth, twisting the blade of the shovel deep. Holly felt it as if she herself had been stabbed and she cried out in pain, unable to smother the sound as she fell to her knees in agony.

"Please. Stop. Leave it." Her plea was weak and Holly knew that the crone had no intention of doing anything she asked. Holly was beginning to feel weaker by the second, and the evening had only just begun. She had stored her energy in droves throughout the day in hopes that her knight might visit her.

She did not expect to have this other all-together frightening and painful encounter.

How had the old woman known about her ties to this tree? How could she know? She'd told no one. Tristan had known, but he'd not told a soul, had he?

Mab lifted the pouch she had filled with damp earth, a smile curving her thin lips. Dark soil covered her hands as she cryptically announced, "You'll pay handsomely for it."

"I want nothing from you, witch," Holly sneered, her temper beginning to flare. Using the last vestiges of her energy she attempted a counter attack. She watched in satisfaction when Mab was forced to brace herself against the tree for support when a wild wind threatened to knock her over.

"Leave, old woman. Go before I make you go." A violent and powerful gale swirled around them, kicking up great drifts of snow and coating the witch's thin clothing in white. Mab only laughed in a maniac way that made Holly want to scream. The crone approached her slowly, but Holly refused to be cowed by the menace she felt wafting toward her with each and every step.

"When he fails you, you'll come to me." The statement was made with confidence, so sure was Mab that Holly would do that very thing.

"Never," Holly ground out. Mab smiled eerily, making the skin of Holly's neck crawl in reaction.

"I am many things and he is nothing. The sooner you realize that, the sooner you will have what you so desperately desire. I wonder though, who will you chose when the time comes? The man or the girl?" Holly blinked in confused terror as Mab was in suddenly front of her, close enough to touch.

The crone's filthy hand was outstretched as if to grab her. Holly opened her mouth to scream but before she could, the witch was inexplicably gone.

Mab had completely disappeared in the time it took for Holly to register her shock.

More frightened now than ever, Holly gathered her scattered wits and slowly approached the tree. She noticed with despair that the base of it had been scraped to the point that the naked trunk had began to weep sap. The soil was disturbed and she blew on it to repair it as much as she could.

The tree was old. It was sacred. It was everything to her in this forest.

Shaken and more scared than she cared to admit, Holly dimly returned to her glen. She perched on the lump that was the poacher's hut and stared out into the darkness. She was left to wonder what had just occurred, as Mab had never approached her before. The fact that she had done so now made her furrow her brow with worry.

The time is nigh for harvesting.

The old woman's words echoed eerily in her memory and Holly was barely able to suppress a shiver of foreboding. What did Mab want? What could the witch possibly gain by approaching her now and desecrating her oak tree? Holly's replayed the encounter over and over again in her mind, searching for hints at Mab's designs and could find none.

Did she seek to wreak havoc with a benign spirit? What would be the point? The woman was insane, yes, but she was also very clearly dangerous.

Realizing just how alone she was, the cold empty glen was not as welcoming to her as it had been in the past. Wishing with all her heart that her taciturn scout would make good on his promise to return to her soon, she listened to the cheery melody coming from the kingdom that sat so close.

Holly keenly felt the life that was just out of reach and once again realized the bitter loneliness that was her existence.

Enid wondered bitterly if someone was playing her for a fool.

The great hall in Camelot was teeming with revelry, and even in this rambunctious atmosphere she couldn't have felt more anxious. It did not help that the most beautiful woman she had ever laid eyes on was sitting to her left and it most certainly did not help that the queen, another very beautiful woman in her own right, had placed the handsome and soft-spoken Sir Dagonet to her right. Despite her best efforts she felt hopelessly out of her element and she prayed it didn't show.

Enid attempted polite conversation and received stilted careful replies from Dagonet in return. In addition she was gaily offered a new "delicious" or "divine" morsel of food every time she mentioned the abundance of feast offerings to Lady Ivy. Enid stared down at her barely touched plate and felt guilty for letting such delicious food go to waste.

It wasn't the shy stilted conversations with Sir Dagonet that Enid found put her most ill at ease, no indeed, those tummy rumbling feelings came from a different source all together. Sir Tristan had only just made their acquaintance and if looks could kill Enid was convinced that she would be stone dead twice over by now.

The strange man did not speak to her, not even when she asked if his hunt had gone well this morning. Her attempt at conversation when she spoke of the weather with a shy smile of encouragement was met with a resolute and stony silence. Instead, he only stared at her as if she were something very unpleasant stuck to his boot heel. His piercing gaze roved her features in an overly familiar way, as if he were looking for something she did not possess, and it unsettled her.

His rude behavior was something Enid could overlook. She had only just met the man and so she was willing to give him the benefit of doubt- perhaps he simply had a mistrustful nature. But there was something puzzling about his odd behavior that she could not rationalize. If Sir Tristan found her manners lacking that was one thing, but the way he treated her father was another.

Thaddeus was a man of great wealth and respectability. She was used to the pomp and almost fawning reception her father received when he made his appearances in the Roman court, so she was astounded at the cold way the knight had treated him when they had been introduced.

He had ignored her father's outstretched hand, had not attempted to speak to him when asked of his station, and instead had glowered silently at her father as if he were the devil incarnate. It was flustering to say the least.

Tearing her gaze away from the uncouth man across the hall, Enid focused again on her plate. The food she had managed to choke down sat like stones in her belly and she wondered if she could excuse herself from her table company without seeming rude.

"Lady Enid, you must try some of this pork, it is divine," Ivy said before she plunked a rather large piece of meat onto her place. Enid stared at it in defeat before she turned to her feast companion with a weak smile of thanks. Ivy chewed with relish and pointed to the dishes before them, silently willing her to eat more.

Enid could not miss the small bump beneath the woman's skirts, or the way she glowed more brightly than the torches that lit the hall; the lady was obviously with child. A fine net of amber colored jewels adorned Lady Ivy's brilliant red hair and the dress she wore was of the finest spun green wool. Her handsome and youthful husband was doting and very obviously smitten with his wife. Sir Galahad had not once left the woman's side all evening, but now he smiled at Enid, his eyes sparkling with mirth at his wife's attempt to get her to eat something.

It was at that moment that Lady Reagan approached her, lifting her goblet in salute, a bright smile on her face.

Her short hair was in disarray, as she had been one of the first to start the dancing for the evening, and her husband was only too glad to join her. Enid watched them with envy, noting that Reagan and Lancelot made a dashing pair with their dark heads bent close to each other and secret smiles shared between the two. Adoration was evident in the knight's dark eyes as he gazed upon his wife, and Enid felt a stab of longing at the look.

Sir Dagonet shifted uncomfortably next to her. She suspected it was difficult for him to fold his large frame into such a small chair.

Her gaze strayed to his once more and Enid could not help but return the small smile he gifted her with

"Lady Enid, will you not join us in the next dance?" Reagan's voice was a little too chipper for Enid's ears and she suspected that there was an underlying hint to the request. Enid looked back at the small woman and smiled her thanks as she shook her head slightly.

"At any other occasion I would be delighted, my lady, yet I fear I do not know many of the dances I have witnessed tonight." It was an honest response and she silently willed the young woman to not press it further. Enid had no desire to make an ass of herself tonight, as she had already done that well enough this morning.

"Ah, but you would have such a splendid partner. Sir Dagonet is deceptively light on his feet and I am sure he would teach you the proper steps in no time." Reagan had the audacity to wink at her and Enid felt her face color in response. Once again, Dagonet shifted in his chair, though it was obvious that this time it was due to reasons other than his size.

"Please, my lady, I do not wish to tax the good knight. He may be light on his feet as you claim, but I cannot say the same for myself," Enid responded with a wry grin hoping the self-derision would put a full stop to Reagan's scheming. Her attempt failed miserably and it seemed that Lady Ivy was now in on it as well.

"Dagonet would be honored to dance with you, wouldn't you Dag?" Ivy's smile was enough to melt butter and Enid felt that she was sinking into a well-placed trap. She dared a look at the knight, who wore an expression that could only be described as resigned amusement, and she realized that she had no choice. He didn't either.

Dagonet scooted his chair back and gave her a deep bow before holding out his hand in invitation.

"My lady?"

She swallowed hard, glanced at the great hall teeming with couples dancing, and barely registered Reagan's satisfied grin before she slipped her hand into the rough warmth of Dagonet's. For a single moment there was nothing but sensation. There was no hall, no music, no dancers, and certainly no scheming gentle ladies.

All that existed in Enid's world was the peculiar and bracing feeling of her skin touching his. His grasp was firm and confident and he squeezed her fingers once gently, reassuringly. She barely suppressed the urge to gasp at the contact.

She let him lead her into the dance and Enid became aware of the differences in their height almost immediately.

"Do not trouble yourself, my lady. I will not let you stumble," he said, the kind words a quiet rumble, and Enid managed a shaky, grateful smile. It was a three-step combination and requiring a partner change every fourth turn. Enid caught on quickly, only once did she make a mistake, which caused her to lose her timing.

Dagonet, she had to concede, was a very good dance partner. He tried to lighten her mood by attempting conversation, but Enid was too busy counting her steps to make very many replies. There were, however, numerous smiles exchanged between them, enough so that Enid soon forgot about counting entirely and let the movements of the dance carry her away. She was, she reluctantly admitted, having fun.

They changed partners and Enid found herself twirling about the First Knight, who graciously managed to help her when she made a slight misstep. Lancelot gave her a slight bow, his thick black curls bouncing as he helped her into the correct position and they began anew. Enid flicked her pale braid over her shoulder, took a deep breath and counted one…two…three, as the dance started over again.

When it was done she was sweating, completely parched, and grinning like a green girl at her first sortie. Lancelot bowed and Enid curtsied and was completely surprised when Dagonet led her away from the other dancers and escorted her to get a refreshing drink.

She murmured her thanks when a cold goblet of wine was pressed into her hands. Enid took the opportunity to study her companion surreptitiously over the rim.

There was a light, thin scar that bisected his left eye; she could only imagine its inception. Dagonet, Enid realized, had seen and done things she herself couldn't even begin to contemplate. What must his life be like on a daily basis? What did he do before there was relative peace in the kingdom? He caught her curious gaze and Enid was embarrassed at being caught staring.

He gave her a small smile and inclined his head as if to reassure her that her gaze did not disturb him as much as she thought.

His attention was drawn over her shoulder for a moment and confusion creased his wide tan brow. Enid turned in the same direction and noticed the scout was watching her, closely. Something about the look made her extremely uneasy. She looked back at Dagonet, gave him a simple shrug, and took another drink of her wine. She hoped that her expression did not give her own confusion away.

"You seem to have caught the attention of our scout, my lady." Dagonet tried to make the observation sound casual but Enid heard the undercurrent of curiosity in it.

"Yes, indeed, he was not very welcoming when we were introduced earlier by your queen." She took another swallow of wine, hoping to hide the rancor in her voice.

"Do not take offence. He is not the type to make conversation with anyone. Though I cannot explain why he would be so rude to someone he has just met. He is a difficult man to know, and I can only claim the honor as I have lived with him these past twenty years." Enid was glad to hear that she was not singled out in any particular way by the unsociable knight, though his curtness and dark glares still made her uncomfortable.

"Do you make excuses for his behavior?"

"No. I only wish to put you at ease." Enid smiled at this and wondered if Dagonet was really as generous and the kindhearted soul he appeared to be. They were approached moments later by the King, and Enid praised him on the feast and how wonderful a dancer his healer-knight was. Bright flags of color appeared on Dagonet's cheeks at the praise, which seemed to amuse Arthur to no end.

"You will be wishing to visit your father's property soon, I should think, my lady." It was more of a statement than a question and Enid liked that the king was so frank about her reasons for visiting his court.

"Yes, your majesty. I should like to visit it as soon as possible. I understand that it has sat vacant for sometime, and I would like to make assessments of the repairs needed. For my father's sake, of course," she added hastily. Arthur gave her a benign smile and inclined his head.

"As you wish. I have instructed my scout Tristan that he should take you there on the morrow, if that should suit you. He knows the land well and would not lead you astray." The thought of going into the forest with the rude man was disconcerting to say the least, and Enid knew her displeasure showed on her face as the king quickly added, "I would of course, send another knight with you and your maid as escort. Your father has stated that he is still recovering from the journey, but that he is comfortable letting you travel without him." Arthur gave Dagonet a pointed look and Enid had a feeling that there was an unspoken command hanging in the air between the two men. Sir Dagonet nodded and gave her a reassuring smile.

"I should be happy to accompany you tomorrow if you would wish it, my lady," Dagonet said, adding quickly, "Ivy and Reagan can run the healing rooms in my stead while I am away." Enid, grateful for the offer of company, ignored the chagrined look on the king's face at the knight's response.

"That would be most kind. I do not know these lands yet, and the more men I have to help guide me through them the better. Thank you," she added quietly. Enid was glad that she would not have to suffer only Sir Tristan on her ride to the villa. Dagonet seemed inclined to step in for her when she herself didn't even know she needed him. It was sweet, actually, and it made her like him even more.

They parted company after exchanging a few more niceties with the king, Dagonet mentioning he had patients to check on in the infirmary while Enid was beckoned back to her table. Lady Ivy had apparently found her something "divinely sweet" to eat and she insisted she try some. Enid joined her happily.

The food suddenly held greater appeal than it had before and she ate with renewed zeal.

When the evening wound to a close, Enid began to make her way out of the Great Hall. She debated on which direction she should go and wracked her memory for the location of her chambers. She turned left and let out a surprised gasp when she came face to chest with a man.

Her eyes slowly traveled upward to find the silent scout glaring down at her. It was as if he had sprung from the shadows, his appearance was so startling.

"I am to escort you to your chambers. King's orders," he added at her surprised look. Enid had no time to properly respond as he began a swift pace in the opposite direction. She struggled to catch up with his long-legged strides. They rounded a corner and the knight came to an abrupt stop, Enid barely caught herself before she careened directly into him.

Tristan turned to address her and she took an immediate step back, intimidated not only by his height but the rather large and lethal looking sword strapped to his hip.

"Be ready in the morning. Directly after you have broken your fast, I expect to meet you in the stables. If you make me wait, I shall leave without you." Enid's eyes grew wide at the briskness of his tone. She was too shocked to care that he had not addressed her properly.

The torchlight did strange things to his gruff and angular countenance. The savage black marks under his eyes blended into the darkness of the shadows in a bizarre way.

Who was this strange man?

"I have no intentions of making you wait. I shall endeavor to make sure I do not cause you any distress on our ride to the villa." Her tone matched the vehemence in his and his oddly colored gaze roved over her features in that familiar way once more.

Enid felt the urge to flinch and turn away from him, but fought her instincts as she refused to be cowed by this insolent man.

The silence between them was rife with tension and when she could stand it no longer she asked, "What have I done to offend you so?" She stood waiting for an explanation, but Tristan remained studiously and damningly silent. Feeling her ire rise, Enid did not bother to wait a moment longer in his presence.

Gathering her skirts in a tight fist she moved around him, sharp snaps of fabric against stone breaking the silence that had stretched between them.

"You are more like her than you know."

His strange and lilting voice drifted over the rapid clicking of her footsteps on the icy stone. Enid stopped dead in her tracks at the softly spoken words. She turned swiftly on her heel, ready to demand that he explain himself further, but to her complete surprise she was alone in the cold, sparse corridor.

The torches cast dancing shadows on the walls, and it was as if Tristan had melted back into the gloom from which he had arrived. Enid squinted, forcing her eyes to focus on the darkness, silently daring the man to show himself again. He did not.

Extremely puzzled by the encounter-nay the entire evening-Enid managed to find her way back to her chambers unescorted.

She listened to Flora's idle chatter while her maid helped her ready for bed. She wondered what tomorrow morning would bring and prayed she would be able to hold her temper around the frustratingly silent and infinitely mysterious scout.

You are more like her than you know. Tristan's words echoed in her memory as she lay in total darkness willing her mind to sleep, and she realized that his haunted gaze and softly spoken words disturbed her more than she would ever care to admit.

AN: This was a tricky chapter to write. There were numerous drafts of it before I was satisfied. Mab while evil is cunning and she speaks in riddles (at least in my mind when I'm writing her). She has her own separate agenda. As for the next chapter, it was emotionally trying. That's all I have to say about that. The story will get darker as we go along and beliefs will be tested. Just a fair warning the story will earn its 'M' rating ;)

Thank you to all of my readers and reviewers! Your encouragement is what keeps me going. Thank you.

Until chapter 11

~S