Behind Closed Eyes

Chapter 2

Tristan rode his horse alongside Galahad's, Tristan was sure he had noticed him but was amused when he realized he hadn't actually noticed him at all.
"I saw you watching." Tristan announced watching as Galahad turned sharply suprised at Tristan's sudden appearence.
"I wanted to make sure you were fine."
Tristan's light coloured eyes burned into Galahad's colder coloured ones.
"Why not the others?"Tristan asked, watching Galahad from the corner of his eye. Galahad swallowed and looked away, ignoring the question completely. Rude. Galahad moved his horse so he was alongside Gawain and Bors.
"I don't like him, that Roman," Galahad said, spitting the word Roman out like it was thorn " if he is here to discharge us, why doesn't he just give us our papers?"
Gawain and Bors chuckled
"Galahad, do you not know these romans? They won't scratch their asses without holding a ceremony." He's not lying Tristan says silently to himself as he rides up beside Galahad again earning a paranoid glance but nothing el nse. Bors rough voice pulls him from his game of cat and mouse.
"Why don't you just kill him, and discharge yourself after?" Aren't you just full of bright ideas Tristen though sarcastically, he wasn't in the mood for Bors comments.
"I don't kill for pleasure," Galahad said, eyes glued to the landscape before him. "Unlike some." His venom was directed to Tristan who sat beside him. Getting a little insolent aren't you pup. Tristan thought, not unkindly because he knew that Galahad was on edge about Tristan's little discovery and insinuations. Tristen blinks, his eyes flickering with hidden cleverness.
"Well you should try it some day, you might ge a tast for it." You don't know me, don't pretend like you do.
Galahad just looked at Tristen, his mouth caught in a frozen grimace/smile hybrid.
"Its part of you." Bors says his eyes glistening in amusment at Tristan's statement." Its in your blood."
Galahad breathed in sharply "No no no," Galahad responded, sounding like he was try to convince himself."By tomorow this all a bad memory."
Tristan glanced at him Is it? He thought, wondering if any of them were capable of pretending that none of this truly happened. Being nothing but a child, slicing through a man as his blood falls upon your lips and you realize you don't mind because its better than feeling cold steel bite into you body as your life blood stains the ground. Galahad was young, it still bothered him. Tristan was older, when he showed up they had Saxon scouts and Woads to fight, it didn't not bother him. He was just desensitized.

They all gathered in the conference room, the bishop didn't seem too pleased with the round table but nobody gave a damn about what he thinks.
"His eminence, Bishop Germanius."
The room fell quiet, even Bors was totally silent, his eyes betrayed his eagerness. Soon he'd be free with his wife Vanora and their eleven children, only one of which Tristen knew the name of. The bishops eyes flciked over the men, judging, calculating." I was given to understand there would be more of you."
Arthur glanced at bishop sharply "There were," Arthur said, his voice taking on a cool tone." We've been fighting here for fifteen years, bishop."
"Of course." The bishop said before grabbing a goblet and raising it to the men before him, studying each and everyone but never sparing them a second glance.
"Arthur and his knights have served with courage to maintain the honor of Romes empire an this last outpost of our glory." Your glory. Tristan thought bitterely, oh how his hands itched to draw his knife and paint the bishops robes with his own blood, if only if only. The bishop paused for dramatic effect "Rome is indebted to to you noble knights, to your final days as servants to the empire." Everyone internaly flinched. Days, no, days was not good, it was foreboding.
"Day. Not days." Lancelot cut in, almost scathingly, eyeing the bishop like an angry cat. The bishop smiled and motioned them to sit down. Tristan felt Galahad's eyes on him, they always sought him out, it was always him.
"The popes taken great interest in you. He inquires after each of you and is curious to know if your knights converted to the word of our saviour or-" Arthur cut Germanius of, making Tristan want to smirk.
"They retain the religion of their forefathers. I have never questioned that." Arthur said, defending his borthers like they were children standing by watching the grown ups talk. The bishop's voice dripped with disapointment "Of course, of course. They are pagans, hm?" Galahad's body straighted with agitation, Tristan assumed that if Galahad didn't know any better he would be telling the bishop off. Galahad could be such a hot head.
"For our part, the church has deemed such beleifs as innocence, but you Arthur." Germanius said turning to their commander "your path to God is through Pelagius? I saw his image in your room." It was at this point Tristan tuned out, Arthur said something about his father while Tristan's brain had left the building.
"Rome awaits your arrival with great anticipation." Germanius looked back at Arthur, eyes twinkling "You are a hero. In Rome you will live out your days in honor and wealth."
Tristan stared ahead of him, wondering what would become of him after this was all over. He had no lover, no family, no home. He had nothing but Isolde and fighting. His family had been killed as far as he knew. Isolde was his only family besides his mare. He could consider his brothers family but he knew they would all disband. Perhaps he would live out his days a hermit, wild and in the forest. Almost like a Woad.
Germanius' haughty yet jovial voice pulled him from his collecting thoughts.
"Alas...alas, we are players in an ever changing world. Barbarians from every corner are almost at Romes door." Tristan watched listlessly as Garmanius' servant Horton placed a box at his side. Tristan liked the box, it was finely made, he would remember it.
"Because of this,Rome," the bishop said, his fingers brushing over the fine box "And our Holy Father, have decided to remove ourselves from indefensible outposts, such as Britain."
Everyone stood, half in numb shock half because Germanius was also standing. Tristan listened silently as they spoke of Saxons, just the word saxon made a large scar in his right shoulder twinge. He heard Galahad's indiginant and furious voice above the sound of the others.
"So you just leave the land to the woads? And I risked my life for nothing?" Its always been for nothing. Tristen thought lazily to himself. The bishop didn't answer Galahad, he just hummed to himself and opened the box. He was changing the subject, there was something he wasn't tell them.
"Gentlemen, our discharge papers, with safe conduct throughout the Roman empire."
Everyone watched the box now like hungry dogs that see scraps in their masters hand.
"But first, I must have a word with your commander in private."
No one moved, the eagerness and the anxiety made them bold, Tristan supposed that to Germanius they were nothing more than hungry dogs. Tristan looked at Galahad who, in all honesty, looked like a dog who had been thoroughly pissed off. He leaned in, shoulders squared, one should know better than to tease a starving hound. Especially one from Sarmatia. Galahad stared daggers at germanius before Lancelot cut in.
"Come," Lancelot said, try to sound good natured "Let's leave Roman buisness to Romans."
Tristan stared into his drink, pondering if he should down it all at once or take it with him and sharing some with Isolde. He swished the dark intoxicating liquid before taking his cup with him and exiting the room. He could feel Galahads eyes on him again. They were always on him and his on Galahad, whether he knew it or not was up to tristan, he was sneaky that way.