Finnally ! Last part of the chapter ! Im soooo sorry it came out this long, hehe. Now, here, you'll find out more about Devnet's celtic linage, quite a surprise I must tell you ;) Enjoy ! And don't forget to tell what you think ! Comments, reviews, even a vote ALWAYS encourage a writer, and helps them improve <3
A woad woman was standing a few feet away, eyeing them with curiosity. She wore dark clothes that clung to her body so they would not get in her way. Blue dye coloured her face and arms, and her coppery brown braids were held behind her head in a tight tail. There was a quiver and a bow protruding from her back, but she seemed to have no intentions of using them.
Devnet squinted her eyes, trying to match the woman’s face with one in her memory, of a little girl.
-Brona?-she ventured. Lancelot lowered his knife, eyeing Devnet over his shoulder.
The scout’s expression could have been friendly, if they had not been separated for years without seeing each other. Instead, it was only a stranger’s smile.
-Devnet-she greeted-Might the turning of the Silver Wheel tonight bring good fortune to your coming days-.
-And might the blessing of The Dagda and his lady, the Morrigan fall over you tonight-Devnet finished the usual Samhain greeting.
Brona nodded in appreciation and then her hazel gaze fell upon Lancelot, suspicious and somewhat resentful.
-And wich of Artorius men, pray sir, would you be?-she inquired quietly.
Lancelot held his head up, not intimidated in the least. His dark eyes glimmered with danger under the moonlight.
-I am the one called Lancelot-he thought for a moment and then added reluctantly-My lady-.
Devnet decided to step in before the hostility between them turned into a real confrontation.
-What business brings you here, Brona?-.
The woman averted her eyes from the sarmatian and focused on her.
-He wants to see you-she informed bluntly-Now-.
Devnet’s eyes widened.
-He-he is here? I mean, out there? I mean…now? I-wait, what?-she got tangled and confused by her own words.
-Yes. He awaits you by the edge of the forest-Brona explained impatiently, stamping her boot against the grass. Her eyes turned again to Lancelot, this time with disapproval-You must come alone-she emphasized the last word with contempt.
Lancelot shrugged sardonically.
-Worry not, lady-he replied with fake courtesy-I am quite sure she does not need me to escort her-.
-She has me for that, outsider-she spat resentfully.
The man seemed amused.
-I’ve been called worse. Is that your best insult?-.
-Lancelot-Devnet pointed out with an edge of warning in her voice-That is hardly necessary-.
She puffed with annoyance, standing on her feet and shaking off the herbs in her hair- Take it to my grandfather to organise secret family reunions when I am in the middle of something-.
Brona blinked with fake innocence.
- I do hate to interrupt your…business-she crossed her arms over her chest-But he was very insistent about it-.
“Oh Im sure you do”, she rolled her eyes and shot Lancelot an apologizing look.
“Do you mind if I go?”
YOU ARE READING
The Girl Whose Name Was A PoemHistorical Fiction
"For years the Roman Empire has used descendants of the Sarmatian cavalry to guard their empire's fronteirs, enslaving them in an unfair contract made centuries before their birth. They dream of freedom." Devnet Allaine, daughter to a celtic prieste...