The freedom in these last days had done a great deal to calm Tristan's mind. They had been on the road to Eboracum, Arthur himself, the major part of the knights and an impressive amount of foot soldiers. They had split up on their way and fanned out to the major settlings near by, checking the situation and informing the inhabitants of Arthur's campaign to stop the raids of slave hunters. Tristan had to accompany Arthur, Lancelot and half of the soldiers to Eboracum, much to his dismay. He had rather taken a handful of men and made for one of the smaller settlements. However, the task Arthur had set for him in the city was much to his liking. He was to gather intel while given free reign over the methods he chose. Arthur should rather not know how he found out but Tristan could report that there were rumours of a collaboration of some former Roman turned British settlers who still made deals with the Imperium and covered the slave trade. Who these Romans were, was in the shadows. Arthur used the time for some publicity work and made clear without adressing them directly, that all those who covered slavery practice would be uncovered and taken care of.

Two weeks went by until they made their way back to Fort Badon. The first thought of what expected him there came to him in the last night camp before their return. Dagonet had met them by coincidence on his way back to the Fort and so he joined them for the remaining two days.
It was his mentioning of Ivy, when he told them about his ingenious plan of making her and Lyria meet without being in the line of fire. Gawain and Lancelot very shortly gave their opinion about this strange foreign woman and when Dagonet said something along the lines of 'staying out of trouble with the Fort's officers' Gawain shot Tristan a look, remembering the events in the allay in front of the tavern. He didn't say anything though. That night, Tristan thought about how to handle the situation once he got back and crossed that woman's path again. He decided, this matter was of no importance to him and he would simply ignore the past events.

All of that should change once they passed the Fort's gate. The one who got the loudest welcome was, as always, Bors.
„Bloody time you turn up here! We've been waiting for you since three days!" she scolded.
„Ah, my flower ..." he made to grab Vanora, but this time she refused his advances.
„Not now! You go to the prison and get my children out of that hole!" she almost cried.
Bors was confused at first. „The prison? What have they done this time?"
Dagonet clapped Bors shoulder in sympathy as if to congratulate him for his offspring and started his way towards the smithy.

„Oh, you don't grin like that, Dag! Lucan sits right along with'em!" Vanora chastised him as well.
That turned the smith's face very quickly from smug to concerned. Lucan in prison? How could that be? What has Gilly dragged his son into this time?!
Dagonet marched towards the prison, horse in tow but stopped short when Vanora added: „You better go home first." His face went from slightly angered to frightened. Had something happened to Lyria? He was mounted and on his way within moments. What had gotten into him anyway that he accompanied his brothers to the stables and did not turn towards home first?

When he took the last turn towards his home, he saw someone sit on the front porch. It was a woman but she was too big to be Lyria. When he arrived, she greeted him friendly and continued to breastfeed the babe in her arms, while a small toddler was playing with a straw horse to her feet. The babe, Dagonet noticed, was wrapped in the blanket Lyria had knitted for Alann, their daughter. That woman was nursing his daughter.
„Where is my wife?!" he asked concerned.
„She is resting, my Lord." the woman said in an even voice as not to frighten the little baby in her hands.
The next moment, a girl in her teens opened the front door and almost bumped into Dagonet. She carried a laundry basket filled with bloody linen, which quickly caught Dagonet's attention.
„Do not worry, it does look worse than it is. She is recovering well." the wetnurse assured.
If all that blood was Lyria's, then nothing was well. He shoved the girl aside and sprinted to the bedside of his wife. She was drifting off to sleep momentarily but awoke right away, when she spotted him. Without going into too much details, Lyria explained that it had been a late complication from birth and that she was lucky to have so faithful friends to help her. She told the story of how Lucan and Bors' children, apparently not only Gilly but also Two and Three, had gotten Gilly's pony from the royal stable at night since Dagonet had taken their only horse for his journey. Of course she had only learned of this afterwards, after Lynn had arrived and the fever died down two days later. She also told him that, eventually, it had been Ivy to make the long ride to Lynn's mother. The boys and Two had paid with a prison sentence for their rescue mission. Ivy had yet to return to the fort.
Although Dagonet did not really want to, he left Lyria to rest with Alann at her side. After unpacking and feeding the horse, he made his way back to the fort. Given the circumstances, Arthur would surely be merciful towards the children despite them breaking the curfew. The same should go for Ivy.

He found Arthur in the table room, already berated by Vanora on how her boys and girl only wanted to help and had his sentry not been so stubborn, all this could have been avoided. Bors was standing on the side line to give silent support to his wife, Tristan was leaning on the wall behind Arthur. He had not been pleased to learn, that a bunch of children, admittedly two squires among them, and a woman had broken through their security system. Moments later, the double doors opened and along came four guards with Lucan, Gilly, Two and Three, all a bit dirty and sleep ridden.
Upon being asked, Lucan began to tell how his mother fell ill from one moment to the next and how the bed was soaked in blood before he could get help from a local herbal woman. The case was beyond her and she urged to get the midwife as this was a matter of hours. Lucan went to the fort but the gates were closed right behind him for curfew. He turned to his closest companion, his brother-in-arms Gilly, for help and they made up the plan that same evening. When night arrived they went into action and made it into the royal stable but somehow it all went downwhill from there. The escape plan was foiled by an attentive guard. Gilly interjected how he had held himself in the brawl and presented his black eye proudly. Lucan closed his explanations with how Ivy took the pony and went for the gate.
„And now to you two." Arthur turned towards Two and Three. „How did you manage to open the west gate?" He enquired in an authorative voice. He knew full well how, since they had interrogated the guard on duty already. But if their main punishment was to be delivered by their own mother, it was far more effective if she heard it from their own mouths. And Arthur had no doubt Vanora would come up with something much more effective than whatever he could order. He let his stern gaze wander from one deliquent to the next, raising an eyebrow to prompt the answer.
„I opened the gate while the guard was distracted." Three admitted.
„Distracted." Arthur said gravely, waiting for them to elaborate.
Three looked at Two, who in turn sent a covered glance towards her mother, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Vanora noticed it anyway and interpreting the blush on her blossoming daughter, she drew in a sharp breath.
„Oh you girl come home and we have a talk!" she cried exasperated, making it sound as if this talk would be no talk at all but a good hiding. Two winced. „You will wear a linen sack till next summer and a cleaning rag as head scarf!" And then to herself: „As if that thing with the farmer's boy wasn't enough!"
Two looked caught that her mother knew about her crush on Iowan.
„What farmer's boy?!" Bors booming voice shocked all of them. No one thought he really listened. Obviously they were wrong.
Arthur raised his hands for silence. „I trust that these two get an appropriate punishment from your hands." Vanora nodded her head an enthusiastic yes.
„In addition, both of them are to work at the mess without pay for one moon to wax and wane." He then shifted his look to Gilly and Lucan. „As squires, you two will be dealt with by your commander."
Lancelot nodded a short affirmative and sent the boys a look that was promising nothing good.
„That leaves us with one more person to deal with. Where is Miss Ivy?" Arthur asked everyone around.
As if on queue, a knock sounded at the door, which was shoved open a moment later. A guard stepped in and aside to let a woman enter the room. She bowed her head and curtsied „My Lord, you have sent for me?"
Arthur was momentarily confused since this was not how he remembered Ivy. That was, until Tristan informed him in a whispered tone „The midwife." Lynn sent him a short glance before lowering her gaze again.
„Ah, Lynn it is?" Arthur inquired.
„Yes, My Lord."
„You know why you have been summoned?"
„I have been told that the woman that came to fetch me from my mother's home and the boys which aided her have gone against your orders, my Lord. Please know that I knew nothing about all this and had no hand in it."
Lynn went on before Arthur could speak.
„But also know that I appreciate their effort. It was a dire situation. Another day and it might have been beyond my abilities to help. I should not have left so soon after Lyria's delivery."
„Lady Lyria is recovering well?"
„Yes, My Lord. Mother and child are as well as could be expected considering the latest events."
„Tell me about the morning the woman, Ivy, arrived at your mother's house to bring the message."
„Well, it was very early. The sky had started to lighten but there were no hints of sunrise yet. We were shaken awake by the rattling on the door. Mother opened and there stood Ivy, drenched to the skin for it had rained all night. She was looking for Fort Badon's midwife and once she found me, she urged me to pack my belongings and leave straightaway."
„And you did."
„Not right away. I rekindled the hearth fire and poured her a tea and while I packed, mother went to Maurin's farm to ask for his draught horse."
„And my pony?" Gilly interjected from his place, but was silenced by the stares directed at him.
„The pony looked as it would fall over any moment. It is a long way from Byrne to Badon and half a summer's night is no time at all for this journey. We gave the pony to Maurin as pledge for his horse and I am sure he took good care of it."
„And Miss Ivy did not accompany you back to Badon." Arthur stated.
„No. The horse was packed with my belongings and if we were to ride a quick pace, another person to carry would have been too much. "
Arthur nodded, although he doubted that a drought horse couldn't shoulder another lightweight such as Ivy.
„And besides, Miss Ivy needed some rest, too. We agreed that she stay in Byrne until I can send Maurin's horse back and she can take the pony again."
„And, did you?" Lancelot asked from his position.
„Melvin the basket weaver took it."
„And when was this?"
„Two days after my arrival. That would be five days ago by now."
„Five days." Lancelot scoffed. „In her shoes and with a trained pony? I would be near the coast by now and trading it in for a headstart elsewhere."
Lynn was confused since she knew nothing about Ivy's previous adventures and her unpleasant ecounter with Arthur's court.
Dagonet was close to providing his own opinion on how Ivy did not deem him a thief, but knew better than to bring the thief-topic up again. And then, he would not blame her if she in fact did it. A fresh start elsewhere wouldn't be much worse than returning into a town full of mistrusting and slanderous people.
„The next patrol on this road shall stop by and check if she is still present. If yes, escort her back to the fort. I shall have a word with her." Arthur instructed.
„Aye." Tristan affirmed the order.
With that, the meeting ended. The deliquents were handed over to their parents. With an encouraging pat on the shoulder, Dagonet greeted Lucan. The reunion, however was shortlived.
„Come on, boys." Lancelot ordered the two squires to follow him.
Dagonet and Vanora turned to Lynn to thank her once more and left as well.

Tristan waited for all of them to filter out of the room, thinking things over again. There was a tidbit which seem to escape all of them. Why was Ivy in the stables in the first place? Lucan went over this part of the story quickly and one could easily assume they brought her along with them. Nobody seemed to question why that would be. Tristan, of course, knew she had been there to sleep.
So, Ivy had defied the king's orders, the curfew for one but her personal sentence of probation, too. She had stolen a pony, a squire's pony no less, and probably sold it. He tought back to the moment, when he and Dagonet left her with his charger-to-be at the smithy, thinking she would not be able to leave the town with it. Fools, the both of them. Dagonet for his unwavering believe in the good in men and himself for being convinced by his best friend, if only by a tiny fraction, that Ivy maybe wasn's as shady as rumors made her appear.
Tristan's next way led him to the stable, where he busied himself with the tack of his horse longer than necessary, silently cursing Galahad who dallied away. Finally, the other knight left and Tristan remained alone in the stables. There was one more thing to check. He determined the best route up to the hayloft and was surprised that he had to really strain to reach it. How did Ivy with her twig thin arms manage that?
The roof was too low for Tristan to stand up and so he crawled closer to the wall. There was not much hay on the loft at this time of the year but it was enough to hide Ivy's lair. Hidden behind an unsuspicious stack lay her outspread cloak and on it a cloth bundle. Upon closer inspection Tristan found a comb, a small bar of soap which he involuntarily lifted to his nose to take a whiff, a dry piece of bread, a sewing kit and a coin purse bundled up with pieces of spare clothing, all rolled into that ill fitting dress of hers. All of her belongings were here, except the clothes she wore on her skin. Tristan packed everything up again, wound the cloak around and let it drop to the stable floor. After loosening up the flattened hay, he made his way back down.
From the looks of it, she had not planned to leave. But then, who would not jump at the chance of a new start? The pony would pay for much more than these meager belongings and five days were much more than a headstart.

Although he could use some rest after these last weeks, he took the next patrol to the west upon himself. Half a day's ride brought him to Byrne. He asked the villagers, when passing by, for any suspicious activity but none was reported. The last farm of the village had a small paddock attached to its stable and to his surprise, a pony he knew quite well was grazing lazily alongside a small cart horse. If Gilly's pony was still here, did that mean the woman he was looking for also was? The closer he drew to the lonely cottage on the edge of the woods, the more his anticipation rose.
The little house was the same as in his memories from his last visit, maybe a little more shabby and weathered down by Britains unforgiving seasons. He dismounted and tied his horse to a nearby elder. Before he could even knock, the door opened and the old healer stepped onto the porch.
"What do you want?" she inquired in a rough voice without any formal greeting. She knew exactly who she was facing.
He also omitted the greeting, not having left on best terms the last time. "I am looking for the woman who came to fetch your daughter." he declared.
"The woman you seek is not here." she answered curtly.
"The pony she came with still is."
"I don't know nothing about any pony." the old crone lied to his face.
Asking her further wouldn't change anything and Tristan had the feeling that threatening her wouldn't change it either. So, why bother with that and not simply make sure by himself? With a rough shove he freed the entrance way and stepped into the dim hut.
"How dare you!" The old healer was outraged and made a move to grab his arm and hold him back.
Three long strides took him to the doorway of another small room, which was separated only by a curtain made of patches. He pushed it aside but halted his steps instantly. The small chamber only held a rickety bed and in this bed lay Ivy, a shadow of herself.
She wasn't aware of the disturbance, eyes tightly shut but not sleeping. Tristan could hear her rattling breathing from where he stood and her appearance wasn't what he had expected to find. Her face was pale, lighter than the bed sheets even, and almost translucent. He could see blue veins stand out on her hands. Her hair was damp from sweat and plastered to the sides of her face.
Tristan stood still by the curtain, when she opened glassy eyes and fixed them on him, not really aware of her surroundings. The eerie stare went right to his core. If it wasn't for the rasping breath, he would have sworn she was looking at him from the otherworld. Her chapped lips opened but no sound came out. Was she trying to say something? The next moment her eyes rolled back into her head and heavy eyelids drooped shut. The fever was claiming her again and the breathing got more laborious.
The spell was broken when the old healer pushed him out of her way, taking a cloth from the bucket next to the bed to dab at Ivy's face and cool her. "Leave now. You can come back in a week and either take her then or visit her grave."