I was awoken by the anaemic light of dawn the next morning. Sometime in the night, I had cuddled against Tristan for warmth – how utterly mortifying. I quickly got up and washed in the pail of water by the window before putting on my outer black tunic and tying the sash around my hips. The knife lay where I had dropped it on top of my boots, and I picked it up, wondering if it was alright if I kept it.
Probably not.
I tugged on my boots and stuffed the knife into my sash. Until Tristan wrestled it from me, I might as well keep it.
"Wake up." I said, and kicked the bedframe. Tristan's eyes shot open and he glared at me.
"There are nicer ways of doing such things." He grumbled. I ignored to rebuke and helped him sit up.
"You need to shave – that beard is horrid." I said, and turned to fetch the dish of water, soap and razor. I tested the razor with my thumb and found its edge to be lethally sharp. "Can you do it, or shall I?" I said, "I must warn you, I have never used one of these before."
Tristan hastily snatched the razor from my hand and the movement seemed to pain him. "Just get some hot water." He said shortly.
"Where can I find that?" I asked.
Tristan sighed, not bothering to hide his irritation. "Go down to the stables, there is a small well in the outer courtyard. Then, fetch one of the braziers from the equipment room and bring it back here with the water. If you cannot find any of these things, ask either Amandus or Mato, but do not bother Jols. Do you understand?"
I rolled my eyes and nodded. "Yeah, yeah… see you in a second." It wasn't cold outside, so I didn't deem it necessary to wear the baggy poncho-like outer tunic when I left.
We must have been early risers, because apart from the two bustling stable hands and a harassed-looking stablemaster there seemed to be no one around. Did the knights really have nothing to get up for? I could hear the regular soldiers charging around the fort, clearly busy with morning duties, and resolved to at least make Tristan a useful member of the community once he was back on his feet. It wouldn't have surprised me if someone said that they thought the knights were a bunch of arrogant layabouts. It was only by the time I had fetched the water and found a brazier that wasn't broken, that a few of the knights had appeared and wandered off to find food. I stayed hidden, determined to be not seen or heard, and then quickly made my way back to Tristan's room.
He was still sitting up when I returned, and seemed surprised that I had managed to carry it all up on my own in one go.
"You'll find wood and kindling in the empty room at the end of the row. My flints are in that saddlebag." He said, pointing to one of the bags tossed on top of a trunk that I had pulled the blanket out of.
After setting everything up (it was fairly self-explanatory, after all) I spent the longest time trying to make a decent spark using the flints. Cursing in 21st Century Finnish (the joys of attending university – you meet so many interesting people), I finally managed to get the kindling burning. I turned to grin at Tristan in triumph and he managed the deceased relative of a smile in response. This guy needed to loosen up a little and actually laugh (and not in the sadistic, bloodcurdling way that I suspected he usually did).
Once the water was heated I helped Tristan to move to the chair.
"I'll get you a fresh tunic," I said helpfully, leaving him to his shaving. I finally found a dull red one that seemed more patches and clumsy repairs than actual cloth, but if he kept it then he could wear it. I waited until he had finished shaving, then threw it at his head, clearing away the shaving things and feeding the fire. It was imperative that Tristan didn't catch a cold; he had to survive and suffer properly.
I was just preparing a light breakfast from the leftovers of Vanora's super-hamper when Gawain appeared in the doorway with a stranger standing just behind him.
I straightened, tucking my hands behind my back, and respectfully stared at the far wall, while Tristan merely turned his head to look at his visitors.
"Arthur," he breathed.
~oOo~
Gawain had given them most of the morning to get themselves together before fetching Arthur. They deserved some leeway before being faced with the one man whose opinion really mattered on this gods-forsaken lump of land at the end of the world.
Tristan was freshly shaved and wearing a clean tunic – a vast improvement over the state he'd been in yesterday, but he still looked tired and ill. Clearly Kation was going to be a wonderful influence on Tristan's appearance, if nothing else. Although how she had managed to look so fresh and neat with only a pan of water and a little soap available was beyond him. Must be a female thing. She was also doing her utmost to stand perfectly still as Arthur entered the room.
"Tristan," he said warmly. "I'm glad you are safe."
Tristan turned as best he could in the chair to look at his commanding officer and nodded. "I am only sorry I couldn't help Kay." He said, his hands clenched tightly around his knees. Gawain glanced slyly at the girl, who flicked those grey eyes to him for a mere moment before returning them to a space on the far wall while Tristan and Arthur talked.
He sidled closer and lounged against the wall behind her. "Hey, how did you sleep?" he asked in an undertone.
"Well enough." She replied in a low whisper. "But he didn't move over, so I nearly fell off the bed more than once." She added bitterly.
Gawain bit the inside of his cheek to suppress his laugh as Arthur turned to look at Kation for the first time.
"So this is your slave?" he said, doubt colouring his tone. "What can he do?"
"Kation can read, write and is well-versed in mathematics." Tristan said, glaring at the girl from behind Arthur's back. "He's also very resourceful and accomplished with horses."
"Hmm, do you understand Greek?" Arthur asked the girl, who looked up at him fearlessly and nodded.
"My Latin is better."
If Arthur was at all surprised by the answer, or her 'masculine' voice, he didn't show it.
"If your master can spare you, I would appreciate your assistance with some minor administrative documents." He said, turning to look at Tristan, who nodded.
"You are too generous, sir," Kation said, bowing slightly.
Arthur grunted then caught Gawain's eye. "I would like to hear Tristan's report in private, Gawain. I hope you understand."
This was a well-known code: whenever Arthur wanted to have a private conversation about personal matters with a knight, he always made a reference to a 'private report'. Gawain grinned and straightened.
"Of course, I'll take the boy off for the morning." He said cheerfully. "Shall I send Dagonet or the Medicus over to see to Tristan?"
Arthur nodded. "Ask someone to stop by after lunch – this report may take some time." And although his expression was business-like, there was a familiar unsettling light in his eyes that said he was feeling quite impassioned about something.
Gawain ignored the slightly desperate look in the scout's eyes as he dragged Kation from the room, snagging her grey tunic from the top of the trunk as he went. "We'll bring some lunch later." He promised, and fled, scooping Kation up into his arms the moment he closed the door behind them to facilitate a faster retreat.
"What was that about?" Kation whispered as Gawain set her down next to Tagiytei's stall a few moments later.
"Oh nothing much; Arthur just wants to lecture Tristan about something. My guess is it's something to do with buying a beautiful male slave and indulging in wanton, sordid practises." He winked at her. "Nothing too dreadful. Arthur can never bring himself to properly upbraid someone who's wounded, especially one of us."
"So what shall we do all morning?" she asked, stroking Tagiytei's nose as he leaned over the stall to greet her.
"What about seeing just how good you are on that horse?" Gawain said speculatively.
Kation looked from Tagiytei to Gawain and grinned. "Sure."
As she brushed Tagiytei, Gawain re-checked the saddle and bridle for damage. "The tack is fine, but you may need to reconsider the stirrups – they'll be way too long for you."
"Just make them as short as possible, I don't mind riding long." She said as she combed the horse's mane and tail. "But if you could lend me a hand, this'll be done a lot faster."
"He's not going out on parade," Gawain protested. "Besides, he'll kill me if I get any closer without you holding his head."
"Oh alright, shall I put his bridle on now? His face is clean." She leaned over the stall and took the proffered bridle with a nod of thanks and turned back to Tagiytei, who obediently lowered his head.
"I'll put the saddle on him out here – it'll be too high for you." Gawain said generously.
"Thanks," she smiled a little, clearly appreciating his kindness, and led the horse out. This was the most amiable Gawain had ever seen her. Tagiytei was unhappy about being saddled by anyone other than Tristan, but Kation hung onto his head and soothed the volatile horse with gentle caresses while Gawain heaved at the girth. How she had such power over this monstrous animal, the knight couldn't say – but it certainly was remarkable.
"Right, he's ready. You'll need a boost." He said, trying to conceal his eagerness to see her do battle with Tristan's horse. She already had Sarakos under her spell – but would Tagiytei co-operate? Gawain half-wished that there was another knight here to witness a potentially historic moment.
Right on cue, Galahad appeared around the corner. "What's going on?" he asked.
"Kation's going to ride Tagiytei around the pen, would you like to watch?" Gawain asked sweetly. Galahad moved over to the horse and held it steady, while Gawain gripped Kation's shin and lifted her up into the saddle. At precisely the same moment, Galahad was forced to leap away as Tagiytei lashed out with his forelegs, clearly angry at all the strangers crowding him.
Kation, barely in the saddle and very unbalanced, gripped the reins and hauled him back into order with a loud "Tch!" The horse stopped his attack, but pawed at the ground impatiently. The two knights cautiously moved forwards again.
"Good grief; if you survive this, you'll be able to ride anything," Galahad breathed. It was the nicest thing he'd ever said to Kation, despite Gawain's efforts to soften his opinion of the girl.
Kation wriggled her toes into the stirrups and tested their length. "These are a little longer than I'd have liked," she admitted, dropping her voice into 'boy tones' once more. "But I'll manage."
Gawain nodded. "Follow me then," he led her to the large rectangular pen that was located near the paddocks just outside the fort's walls. With high, strong fences, it was mostly used by Jols and other horse masters when training youngsters.
Kation walked the horse into the pen and then started to trot him around the outer edge, sitting deep in the saddle as if glued to the leather, her entire being was focused on the horse. Gawain had never seen someone ride so… intensely. She turned the horse in a tight circle, and the horse kicked out, tossing his head in anger. Girl and horse then descended into a battle for control, and every time the horse reared or bucked Kation simply kicked him on, ignoring the bad behaviour.
"Be serious about this!" Galahad shouted angrily. "Don't let him do that!"
"My people do not believe that hurting someone will ever serve to win their co-operation, sir." Kation murmured, walking Tagiytei round, the reins loosely held in her hand, temporarily having gained the upper hand from their most recent bout. The horse was finally listening to every little signal she was giving him. Secure in her victory, she urged the horse into a canter, coaxing him into increasingly slow, controlled movements until Tagiytei looked like he was dancing.
"Alright, I think that's enough – you can ride out on Sarakos with me after lunch." Galahad said, surprising Gawain immensely.
"That's practically the olive branch, coming from you." He said, unable to help himself.
"Well… he is good with horses." Galahad conceded. "Even if he is a corrupted little sweet," he added with a scowl.
"Did you ever think," Gawain said, finally losing patience with at the teenager he considered a brother, "that he might not have been given a choice in the matter?" The words seemed to quell the fight in Galahad, at least temporarily, as Kation walked Tagiytei to the gate and Gawain let them out.
They walked back to the stables in stony silence until Galahad finally spoke. "I won't go easy on you."
"Of course, sir." Kation said respectfully.
"So, this is the little sweeting!" A voice familiar voice drawled out as they entered the inner yard. Gawain and Galahad turned to see Gaheris and Kahedin sauntering over to them. Now that was very odd indeed – it was common knowledge that those two knights normally couldn't stand the sight of each other. It was one of the reasons why Arthur was so careful when allocating the patrol rotas.
Gaheris was wearing his usual expression of predatory anticipation. Right then, it made Gawain's skin crawl. He may not have formally sworn to protect the girl, but in that instant he knew that he wouldn't leave Kation alone anywhere near the tall pale knight.
'Tristan was right… we've all been so blind.' He thought dazedly, as he saw the way Gaheris leered up at the girl.
"Well, this means I'll have to trust Tristan from now on – the child can work miracles after all." Kahedin drawled, walking right up to Tagiytei, who immediately tried to bite him. The lean scout danced back with a chuckle. "Still not completely tamed, though."
Gaheris leaned against a pillar, chewing a grass stem. "I'm not sure Tristan will appreciate you trying to break his toy, Gawain – he may want to play with it later." He snickered as Kation masterfully wheeled the horse away as it lunged aggressively at Galahad, who'd moved forward in a bid to help bring Tagiytei under control.
"In my current condition, what you are suggesting might finish the job the Woads started." A voice, thick with fury, said from behind them.
They all whipped around, and saw possibly the most terrifying sight they could have imagined: Tristan, in all his half-dead glory, glowering at them from the stairs in a very passable impression of a waking nightmare. Worse still, Arthur was beside him.
Gawain moaned, cringing under the weight of Tristan's glare. "I'll never see Sarmatia again…"
"Shouldn't you be in bed?" Galahad said, trying to get the attention away from Tristan's intended victim, Gawain, and onto more urgent matters.
Both Tristan and Arthur ignored the youngest knight, taking a moment to silently observe Kation as she leapt down from Tagiytei and dragged him into the stall, limping on her bad foot. The stallion followed her, meek as a lamb, despite his attempts to savage the knights only moments ago.
"Not if that little chick's going to follow him there – it would be a rather ignoble end for the mighty knight, don't you think?" Gaheris laughed and then with a final glance in Kation's direction, he wandered over to Arthur and leaned in to murmur something softly in his commander's ear. Arthur nodded and shrugged, eliciting a predatory grin from Gaheris, which he turned on Gawain. "I think we need to keep them apart for his own good." He added, running his tongue over his teeth.
Gawain had always found that a disgusting habit – it reminded him of a wolf licking its chops. He didn't bother to hide his feelings from his face as Gaheris walked away, and he noticed that Tristan looked similarly irritated. Or maybe he was simply feeling light-headed from being out of bed for so long… was he running a fever?
"Master," a husky little voice called. "Please go back to bed! You are not well!" it was Kation, leaning over Tagiytei's stall and looking slightly panicked. Kahedin was leaning against a pillar nearby, holding the saddle and clearly amused by the whole scene.
"Gawain – I need you to send someone to fetch Dagonet or the Medicus to see to Tristan now. Galahad, please take him back to his room and make him stay there." Arthur ordered, taking control of the situation once more.
The knights rushed to obey his orders, Gawain bypassed the option of a third party to locate Dagonet, and decided to fetch their healer back himself. He really didn't want to hang around and suffer Tristan's fury more than he inevitably would.