Gawain, flanked by Kahedin, Galahad and the twins, was bearing down upon them at an alarming speed. He did not say anything, but the blood suffusing his cheeks foretold much doom and woe for Tristan. At least he did not have an axe in his hand.
Galahad looked savagely triumphant. "I knew it! I bloody knew it!" he hissed.
"It's about time you two kissed and made up!" Cador exclaimed.
"Pay up," Dinadan said, nudging Kahedin, who grinned and handed over several coins.
"Tristan, you beast!" Kahedin drawled, his grey eyes a-gleam with delight as he surveyed the pair of them. "Really—I'll never understand you two."
Now it was Gawain's turn: he seethed with righteous wrath and his eyes flashed. In fact, he so resembled an outraged lion that Tristan was half tempted to make a joke and just retreat to his room.
But Kation was standing her ground and tilting her chin up in that defiant angle that boded trouble. For other people.
"What in the bloody raw hells is this?" he roared, finally getting enough air into his lungs to say anything at all. "What… how… I can't…!" he reached for Kation, but she stepped out of Tristan's embrace and threw out a hand.
"No no, stay where you are. I can hear you just fine," she said, her expression irritated. "What's the matter?"
"This!" He gestured at Tristan, but not looking at him. His eyes were ablaze with fury. Clearly he saw himself as the sole protector of Kation's virtue—being a self-appointed 'brother' to her—and stepped right into Tristan's space so that they were well within strangling distance of each other. "You knew I would object!" He growled. "Kation is… is… off-limits!"
Tristan was about to object—with his fists—when he heard Kation mutter: "Oh for pity's sake…"
She stepped between them and shoved them apart. "The truth is that Tristan and I are exactly as we seem. Wish us happy and stop being such an overbearing idiot."
Gawain huffed and turned to the twins for support. "Do you see how he talks to me?" he exclaimed.
"Well he's more educated than you are, I reckon that he's allowed," Galahad said, unexpectedly coming to Kation's defence. The effect of the remark was to render Gawain speechless and Kahedin took the opportunity to haul their friend away remarking that it was high time they all went and had a quick breakfast before returning to work.
Tristan and Kation didn't even look at each other as they hurried to their respective rooms to finish dressing and to reacquire their weapons. Kation leaned against the doorframe to watch him finish braiding his hair back and then strolled into the room. She was wearing only her throwing knives and one of her curved daggers, so he didn't think she was particularly worried about the security of the fort.
"Ready to face further judgement?" she said with a grin.
"Since they assumed as much from the beginning, it was only Gawain and Kahedin who were in for a shock," he growled, turning to fix her with a meaningful look.
Her grin turned feral in an instant and he felt that familiar thrill that was a mixture of the primal fight-or-flee instinct and a blood-coloured anticipation. But all she did was shrug and brush past him to contemplate the window.
"Fancy going—?"
"No," he said a little too quickly, tugging her back towards the door. She followed him docilely to the tavern where they joined the knights on a long trestle table piled high with food. Kation found a perch beside Galahad on the end of one bench, while Tristan was forcibly dragged down beside Gawain who clearly wanted to whisper evil things into his ear.
As soon as he had a roll and some hard cheese in front of him, Gawain leaned close and whispered under the muted-roar of noisy banter: "She isn't a young lady the likes of you can touch!"
"Oh no, did you really think I wasn't aware of that already?" Tristan murmured, unperturbed. "I was sure you knew I like doing bad things."
Gawain faltered, stammered a few incoherent syllables at the innuendo and then turned fully to glare at Tristan, who stared back, unimpressed.
Finally he rallied.
"Well, well, well…" Vanora said, an evil triumph in her bright blue eyes and the satisfied line of her smile. "Kahedin tells me that you have finally come to your senses," she turned that disturbing expression upon Kation, who flushed and quickly started talking to Galahad about the patrol rotas.
"Good morning, Vanora," he said cautiously.
"Your timing was certainly… interesting."
"I always think most clearly during a crisis," Tristan retorted.
Dagonet, who had finally managed to escape from treating the wounded, sat down and was swiftly apprised of the latest turn of events by Dinadan and Gaheris.
"How old is Tristan again?" Gaheris said in a voice with heavy suggestion—not that Tristan could see what that had to do with anything…
"If he's old enough to be in Britannia, then he's old enough to have a boyfriend," Dagonet said, sounding disinterested. "Just you leave it alone. Kation isn't the type to be exploited or bullied." That put an end to Gaheris' lewd comments and conversation turned, mercifully, to the duties that lay before them that day.
Kation had offered to deal with the mountain of paperwork—something they all considered a noble sacrifice worthy of the Christian martyrs—and it was as they were allocating various duties for the day that the trouble started.
"… lazy barbarian thumb-suckers leaving all the hard work for us," a voice grumbled.
There was a chorus of resentful agreement and then a band of Batavians rounded the corner, making for the tavern. They all looked tired and surly, but moved with enough vigour for Tristan to not wholly rule out a potential mêlée.
"Look, there they are now, having a nice breakfast," another sneered.
"Good morning, knights," said the first. "Will you watch us clean up your mess again today?"
"No, actually," Gaheris drawled—he had recovered from Dagonet's set down—"we were just wondering how desperately your husbands back in Germany must be missing you."
As the Batavians stiffened in united outrage, Tristan nearly groaned. Sarcasm was not the right way to deal with this.
"What did you say?" one of the Batavians hissed.
Gaheris didn't even blink. Crazy bastard. "You heard me," he snapped. "Or do you need me to draw you a picture…?" he drew a small knife and thumped the pommel on the table top. "Because I'd be happy to carve it onto your skin."
That wasn't even fighting talk. That was murdering talk and the Batavians seemed to think so too. They shifted, but didn't back down. Then the one with a fresh cut down his cheek snorted and crossed his arms.
"I'd like to see you try it," he scoffed.
Gaheris stiffened, but amazingly it was Kation who shot to her feet, her face an open declaration of war and her back as straight as a lance.
"Excuse me," she said in the silky accents of certain doom, "you may not recognise me, but I am this man's slave," she pointed at Tristan, and glanced at him; vicious defiant grey eyes caught him in their enthralling gaze for a split second before she turned back to the Batavians. "I was the one who got the gates open last night with some of your comrades."
"The little demon!" a Batavian gasped. "That was you?"
Kation inclined her head modestly. "What an apt description," as she lifted her head, Tristan saw that she was wearing a half-smile. "Yes, it was me," she tipped her head to the side, almost coquettishly. "I must say, I was honoured to fight alongside you last night. It was truly a pleasure to kill so many desperate men."
The Batavians were starting to look uneasy as Kation walked around the table and stood in front of them, taut as a bowstring.
"Really, I haven't had so much fun in years," she said murmured, almost shyly, with a hint of giddiness at the edge of her voice. "So if you are going to fight my master right now, I'd be only too happy to join in. But I must warn you," she added, her hand resting idly on the hilt of her dagger, "I don't know how to hurt people… only kill them." The look on her face was so evil that the more impressionable onlookers winced or shuddered.
"Besides," she added with a shrug. "Getting into a fight with a slave has got to be a little beneath your dignity."
The Batavians glanced uncertainly at the knights, and then at Kation, who stared right back at them. They knew they could take her down, but was it worth the risk? With hateful glares and muttered assurances of retribution, they skulked off the find their breakfast elsewhere. The 'deranged killer' mask fell from Kation's face and she reverted to her usual closed expression.
"That'll teach those arrogant whoresons," muttered an all-too-familiar voice.
Kation turned sharply, looking at the knight with sharp inquiry. "What did you say?"
Lancelot wisely stayed quiet.
"Don't let me hear your voice again." She said in a quiet, cold voice.