Soul Of The Matter

Neta strolls along next to Artorius, glancing around at the campsite. They have the latest watch, as usual and all the knights are sleeping. Each one has a weapon, either in their hand or right night to it and the dæmons are crouched, ready to leap up into a fighting stance. The lioness shakes her head and looks up at her human.

'It's not fair. They should be on their way home now.'

Arthur stops, looking down at her. He sighs, sitting down next to her side. She allows herself to collapse, facing the opposite direction to him. They are still on guard. 'So should we. We could have been in Rome by morning.'

She snorts slightly. 'Please. Like Lance will let you go back to Rome without visiting Sarmatia first.'

She feels Arthur smile. 'We'll just have to take him to Rome with us.'

Neta's tail swishes from side to side, eventually wrapping around Excalibur's hilt. 'Maybe we won't leave. Father didn't.'

He takes her tail, gently moving it away. 'Father had mother. We have no reason to stay here.'

Her tail moves again, this time brushing against his arm. 'You never know, Artorius.'

They turn back to guard.

Voziera watches Guinevere and her lynx dæmon lead Arthur and Neta into the forest. The tigress rolls her eyes slightly, turning to face Lancelot. The Sarmatian raises an eyebrow, fiddling with his trinket. His dæmon shakes her head, collapsing at his side.

'Do you remember it? Sarmatia?'

He shrugs, looking down at the trinket. 'I remember hills and grass. You got anything else?'

She lifts her head, resting it on his lap. He runs a hand through her fur. 'I remember our sister and I think we had a brother. I can't remember their names, or our parents.'

He smiles softly but sadly before yawning. 'When we return, we will see them all again. They'll remember us, I'm sure.'

Voziera nods, twisting around to get comfortable. 'Go to sleep, Lance. We can worry about Arthur and the Woad in the morning.'

'Guinevere. Her name is Guinevere.' Lancelot says, the words muffled by another yawn.

'I know.' She mutters, feeling his eyes begin to close and shutting hers also.

They dream of Sarmatia, of playing in great fields with their siblings, of learning to ride with the other tribe children. When they wake, the dreams will be forgotten.

Sarmatia is forgotten.

Jalitaja looks up at Isolde, flying high in the sky above their head. The hawk screeches once, spiralling down to rest on the panther's shoulder. Tristan strokes a hand down the hawk's back, the movement continuing onto his dæmon's neck.

'Anything?' She whispers, barely audible.

'Several dozen archers and twice as many footmen but all new fighters, barely held a word.' He mutters back, same volume.

She debates for a second. 'Arthur and the others can handle them.'

He ties a letter to Isolde's foot, sending her up in the air. She will fly towards the knights, give them the message then return to them, at whatever new campsite they are at

'Taja.' Tristan's voice pulls her front her thought. 'Let's go.'

She nods, getting out of her crouch as he swings onto his horse. She can run just as fast as the equine, one of the many reasons they are chosen for scouting. They find the next campsite within an hour or two, this one hidden only by bushes, rather than huge oak trees. It's harder for Tristan to hide but Taja's pelt allows her camouflage.

'Only twenty.' She says, in returning.

He smiles, drawing his sword. 'Let's hunt.'

Moza lies on the floor of the room, watching Bors and Vanora fight. Vanora is angry about the newest mission, the last mission, and so is her not-quite-husband. However, with no one to actually get angry at, they are screaming at each other. Vanora's Nomdeul is slithering between the children while Bors' bear dæmon lies with their small, unsettled dæmons rested against her stomach. There is not enough room in their house for the children to sleep with their dæmons, lest someone else touch them in the night

Vanora and Bors finally finish their fight, them woman walking away, picking up Nomdeul and falling to sleep on one of the two beds in the room. Bors sighs, settling down on the other, directly behind Moza, brushing his hand against her back.

'I don't want to do this.' She mutters, turning away from the pups and cubs for a few seconds to stare at him. 'I don't want to have to leave again.'

He nods, not saying anything, just running a soothing hand through her fur.

'We'll all come back right?'

Her voice cracks slightly and his hand stops. He moves away, settling onto the bed.

'Of course, Moza.'

Bobi knew straight away not all of them would survive the fight. Even with her and the rest of the knight's dæmons slightly ahead of their humans, ready to attack if any Saxons got too close, there will be to many for the eight of them to deal with. They cannot stop this army and it isn't even the whole force.

She looks back at Dagonet, as Arthur calls for weapons. He glances once at his leopard dæmon, so scared for the first time ever and nods. She snarls as he picks up his axe, running alongside him.

Moza and Neta roar, trying to pull her back but she runs away, having always been faster.

Dagonet slams the axe into the ground as she reaches him. Bobi's tail wraps around his leg, trying to keep him close. They both cry as an arrow pierces his shoulder, a second projectile going through Bobi's leg. With another shout, they almost break through the ice. Arthur, Neta, Bors and Moza are running towards them as Dag gives on finally attack on the ice. It breaks under their feet as another arrow hits them.

Bobi fades, her human's face the last thing she sees.

Graali looks up at Galahad, wanting him to make Arthur be quiet, wanting Neta's face to loose the apology and crack into a smile. It's a joke. They are free, surely. Arthur is hiding the papers somewhere.

When Galahad doesn't stop him, starts shouting instead and Dagonet agrees to go on the mission, Graali let's out a small whine. The other dæmons turn slightly to look at the wolf but only Prasina seemed to really care. Gawain signs the four of them up for the mission and Galahad glares, throwing the vase on the ground.

The two of them turn, Galahad nudging her slightly with his foot. The wolf nods once, allowing her human to lead the way to the stable. When they get there, waiting a few moment to check they weren't followed, Galahad allows himself to fall onto the hay, resting his head on Graali's back. She curls up, tail brushing against his neck.

'I hate this.'

The words just grace her ear, causing her to shudder and huddle closer to her human. They are the youngest and, being so, have the least memories of Sarmatia. In fact, Graali doesn't remember anything.

They just want to go home.

Prasina looks around the small jail, turning her nose up. The coyote dæmon glances once at her human, staring at the jailers with unmasked fury. One of priests steps forward, protesting and Lancelot rams a sword through his chest. Prasina and Voziera exchange a glance, identical snarls on their faces.

Gawain holds a sword out to the guards as Arthur and Dagonet leave with prisoners in their arms. Bobi is holding the boy's dæmon lightly while the woman holds her dæmon to her chest, not trusting Neta to touch him.

Gawain leaves, Prasina running ahead of him. Graali runs up to her, inquiry clear on her and Galahad's faces. The coyote brushes noses with her once before pushing her away, turning back to Gawain.

'She's a Woad.' She says, load enough for the other knights to hear. Neta glares at her and she raises her head, daring the lionness to do something. When Neta does nothing, Prasina stalks back to Gawain, sitting down at his side. He bends slightly, scratching behind her ears.

'You alright?' He mutters, so only she can hear.

She looks up, glancing at Arthur trying to get the camp moving, and scowls.

'We're going to die.'

Harcos watches Neta and Voziera out of the corner of his eyes, watching the two discuss something. The lynx scowls slightly turning and rushing back to Guinevere. The Woad princess rises an eyebrow as he arrives, shaking his head.

'I couldn't reach far enough to hear.'

She sighs, letting him jump into her lap and running her fingers through his fur. 'It'll be fine. Even if the Saxons are near, our armies can handle them.'

Harcos snarls. 'I'll handle them.'

Guin laughs slightly. 'Of course. Me and you against the entire Saxon army.'

He grins, teeth bared. 'We could handle them Guin; we've got to protect this country. You'll be Queen one day, you know.'

'I know.' She scowls, pinching his skin. 'Doesn't mean I have to like it.'

He nips at her fingers before climbing up the tree she is leaning against. From the branches, he continues to watch the knights and their dæmons, most asleep but Bors and Moza standing guard.

'Maybe they'll fight.' Harcos says from above her head. 'They have lived here long enough to call this home.'

'I doubt it. They seem too eager to get to Sarmatia.'

'You never know, Guin. You never know.'

Asarlai flies over to Merlin's shoulder, the barn owl resting against her human's face. Arthur is coming, their daughter is bringing him and Asarlai still doesn't trust the Roman or his lion dæmon, even if Merlin does.

'This is a bad idea.'

He tilts his head and she flies to a tree to face him properly. He smiles slightly. 'Arthur will fight for us. He will fight for Britain.'

'For Britain, maybe, but not for us. He hates you Merlin and I'm sure the lion would like her teeth around my neck.'

Her human frowned, not wanting to think about that. 'That is true but I'm sure his loyalty to his county and to his mother will outweigh that.'

Asarlai flies from the tree to another, cuffing his head with her wing. 'Fool. He believes we killed his mother. His love of her and so hatred of us will destroy any chance of him helping us.'

Merlin glares at his dæmon, stepping forward as if to grab her. She starts, flying twice around him, dodging his arms before heading to the treetops, stretching their bond to its limit.

'You'll fail, Merlin.'

'But Arthur won't.' He smiles. 'Arthur will be king.'

Nomdeul slithers up the side of the caravan, checking on the dæmons that are resting on top. Like always, there is not enough space for the older children to hold onto their dæmons, as they can't shift into smaller forms. Nomdeul brushes once against Laini, Amhain and Dha before heading back down to Vanora. The Briton raises an arm, letting her dæmon crawl down to her neck. It takes the snake only a second to notice the absence of Bors and Moza.

'He's gone to fight, hasn't he?'

Van smiles weakly, the corner of her mouth twitching. 'Of course he has. Moza kissed me before they went.'

Nomdeul's tongue flickers, wishing he could have seen the bear and her human before they went. Moza always made sure to say goodbye to Vanora, since Bors refused to show any outward affection towards either of them. Once, Bors had taken the snake aside, telling him to protect the family and allowing his hand to brush against his scales.

'They're coming back right?'

The both look up when they hear a load cry followed by a great roar. Vanora smiles and Nomdeul wraps his tail around her neck.

'Oh yes. I think so.'