Dance of the Succubus
Evil is sweet in the beginning,
but bitter in the end.
~Talmud
Chronology: Tristan is 26. Lancelot is 24. Raja is 16.
The woman’s hips moved seductively to the fast paced rattle of tambourines, flutes and hand drums. All the men sitting outside the tavern were hypnotized, beguiled by this dancer, even after the music stopped.
“That was...” Galahad’s words trailed off.
“She’s beautiful, huh?” Gawain asked.
Lancelot shrugged and took a sip of ale. “She’s fair.” But he had caught her eyes lingering on him as she swayed to the music, and he had not failed to catch her gaze either.
Raja scoffed. She sat to the left of her cousin, Tristan to the right of her. “I think you burned her with your eyes, cousin, the way you were staring at her.”
“Wonderful sight,” Bors commented, taking his seat at the table.
“I don’t think my cousin feels the same, Bors,” Raja said, a jesting smirk turned on Lancelot.
“I never said I did not enjoy it,” he quipped. He had though, very much that his pants were fit to burst.
The dancer walked from table to table, a small pouch in her hand, collecting coins. When she got to their table, each man put a coin in, save for Tristan and Lancelot.
“Did you not like my dance?” she asked him with a slight pout.
His face was flat as he looked at her. Lancelot’s face was stricken.
“We did,” Raja chimed in, putting two denarii in the leather pouch.
The woman’s eyes widened at the two coins Raja had given her, but she recovered quickly, smiled and went to make more rounds.
Tristan looked at Raja sourly.
“Sure, Raja, make the rest of us men look bad,” Galahad said, half-serious.
“What did I do?” she asked, an abashed expression on her face.
“I told you that you can’t carry that kind of money around,” Tristan chastised, squeezing her closer. “And giving it away so casually.”
Raja just looked at him and the rest of them, at a loss of what she had just done.
“Idiot over here, didn’t give her anything,” Gawain snipped at Lancelot. “Apparently, generosity doesn’t seem to run in the family.”
The dark knight stared at him coldly. He called the woman back over. “What is your name?” he inquired, dropping a coin in her purse.
She smiled at him sweetly. “Lilith.” Her voice was honey, rolling over her tongue.
Lancelot got up from his seat and followed her. “How long will you be around?”
Lilith batted her eyelashes. “Until my troupe decides to move along.”
Lancelot turned on his most charming grin. “Then, perhaps we can spend time in each other’s company again.”
“That would be lovely,” she replied. She bowed her head slightly and made away.
Lancelot sat back down at the table. Raja was talking under her breath at Tristan as he needled her about the money.
The curly haired knight grinned and shook his head. “Are you looking to go broke, cousin?”
Her mouth parted slightly, about to answer then she couldn’t. Raja surmised that they did not know quite how much money she had. She didn’t leave it lying out in the open, her uncle had given her instructions to the places it was hidden, and the only other person who knew was Tristan.
Galahad narrowed his brow. “Do you have that much?”
“Leave it,” Tristan growled. “Come on.”
Raja said goodnight to all of them and walked hand-in-hand with Tristan on their way to their bedroom. The first thing he said to her when they entered the confines of their quarters was: “You know I don’t like you doing that, Raja.”
“But that’s what I had, Tristan.”
“I told you, only asses, dupondii, and sestertii, unless you’re at the market.”
“Well, I don’t think anyone noticed,” she said, changing into her nightshift.
“That’s not the point. You also can’t toss your money around like that, either.”
“I wasn’t trying to outdo anyone.”
“I know you weren’t. But sometimes you’re too generous.”
Raja bit her lip and averted her eyes. Tristan sighed and sat next to her on the bed, pulling her close. He kissed her on the head. “Even if you didn’t have the money you would still be just as giving, just another reason why I love you. But promise me that you will not keep doing that, it can mean trouble.”
She nodded. “I promise.”
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Saladin counted the coin Lilith had acquired. The brazier crackled gently in his large tent. He could hear the rest of the group chatting outside in their respective accommodations. The troupe’s camp was just outside of the walls.
Lilith walked into his tent. “Hmm?”
“And you say this woman simply gave them to you? Without so much as a thought?” He narrowed his eyes skeptically.
She rolled her eyes, sighing heavily. “Yes, Saladin. But I think she did it because the man she was sitting next to did not offer any coin.”
“Man? The woman is a prostitute?”
Lilith poured herself a drink, then sat down on the makeshift bed. “No, I don’t think so. She was too well dressed. Not in an extravagant way, but she was very clean...refined. And she has light brown skin, and silvery eyes. I’d gather she is not from around here.”
“Mmm,” was his only reply. “Well, you made a good profit this night.” He tightened the string on the purse and tossed it to her. He took the cup from her hand and joined her on the bed.
“Not tonight, Saladin,” she said primly, pushing him away.
“You can entertain a group of Romans, but not me?” he sneered.
“I’m quite tired now.” And tired she was. She thought of curly-haired knight, and his dark features. As she walked to her own tent, her mind ticked and clicked with the making of her plans.
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As the days went by, Lancelot and Lilith spent more and more quality time together. And as they did, she also began to integrate herself into the circle of knights. She was doubly nice to everyone, and managed to get on everyone’s good side save for Vanora and Tristan. Raja had neither a bad or good side concerning this. The woman had yet to do anything blatantly wrong, and her cousin was very taken with her.
Raja was dubious despite Tristan’s obvious suspicions. But, still, she was not a person to blind herself to the harsh realities of life. One night, Tristan came in late again. Raja was already in bed, the lamp lit. She found she could not fall asleep until he came back.
“I thought you would be asleep,” Tristan said as he came in the door. He was already taking off his clothes as he walked to the bed.
This was the third time this week Tristan had gone off, and for the third time – she still didn’t know where he had gone.
She shrugged. “I was worried.”
He smiled and slid under the covers. Tristan pulled her to him, kissing and nuzzling her neck. To her frustration, she found herself responding. “Are you trying to distract me?”
Tristan chuckled. “Distract you from what?” His hand slid under her shift and trailed its way down her thigh until he cupped her mound.
She hissed with a slight buck of her hips. He had her gown pulled off her body in one swift movement, and his body on top of hers in another. His hardness pressed against her as he flicked his tongue over her taut nipples and tended to that sensitive place between her thighs that was now wet with wanting.
As he was just about to penetrate her, she blurted: “What do you think of Lilith?”
Tristan stopped cold and stared at her incredulously. “I’m just about to make love to you and you ask me about another woman?” He thrust into her with one determined stroke. Raja moaned aloud, her inquiry forgotten. Despite any of the times Tristan was away, they always made love fervently when he came back. Now, they climaxed together, shuddering with the lightning shocks. He stayed atop her for what seemed a long time before reluctantly rolling off of her.
Raja turned on her side, and after sitting in silence for several moments, she repeated her question.
Tristan narrowed his eyes, but could not help but release an amused chuckle. He knew she was not asking because she was suspicious, it wasn’t Raja’s way, and she wasn’t a jealous person, which was why she had not questioned his whereabouts. It had always been abundantly clear that he was interested in no other woman, and so obvious was he that sometimes he was ribbed for it. But never too seriously, for even though after he had met Raja and was more easy-going when it came to the men poking a bit of fun at him – he still had his limits.
“I’ve been going to her camp these past nights to familiarize some of the people and the layout of their campgrounds.”
“Anything noteworthy to bother telling me?”
Well...he had heard people mention an Egyptian woman with money. One of the reasons why he had not wanted Raja to know where he was going. There were two reasons why he had not told her: One – to her, he never needed to explain himself. Two – he didn’t want to worry her.
“There are some two men close to Lilith. A Saladin, and a Cassum.”
Raja could tell that he didn’t want to tell her anymore, so she just snuggled
closer and let it go. She put the flat of her hand over his heart, the hair on
his chest brushing in-between her fingers. Tristan’s arm wrapped around her,
moving just slightly to kiss her on the head.
“Do you know what a Succubus is?” she asked him, tilting her head to look at him.
He arched an eyebrow at her, interested at this shift in topic. “No.”
“It’s a demon who takes the shape of a beautiful woman to seduce men in their dreams. They use the energy of men to sustain themselves, usually until the point of exhaustion or death of the victim.”
Tristan laughed. “It’s always the women who use their bodies to get the upper hand.”
“Hey!” she jabbed him in the ribs. “Then you should know that an Incubus is a demon in male form that seduces and sleeps with women to spawn other incubi. It drains the energy of the women they have sex with to nourish themselves.”
Tristan grunted.
“Sometimes they’re the same demon. A Succubus takes the seed of the man and then turns into an Incubus to plant that seed in a woman.”
“Are you trying to tell me Lilith is a Succubus?”
Raja grinned and idly traced circles on Tristan’s chest. “Not literally. But in Christian fables, there is a Lilith that is considered to be a Succubus.”
“Then I’d say Lancelot and the rest of the men are in quite a bit of trouble.” He couldn’t help but smile at the notion – fiction or not.
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“Aren’t you two supposed to be in a meeting right now?” Raja asked Gawain and Galahad. She sat down at their table in the tavern.
The two men looked at each other. They had gone to Lancelot’s room to inform him, but he had been occupied with Lilith. Galahad had knocked on the door, a half naked, sweaty, heavy-breathing Lancelot answering the door. Lilith was in eye-shot, the sheets pulled over her.
“We’re waiting for Lancelot,” Gawain replied.
“Well, Arthur sent Tristan looking for you three about ten minutes ago. I think he’ll be here soon.”
Vanora brought Raja a drink, looking at the two men disdainfully. “Lancelot is too busy carousing with that dancer,” she said caustically.
“What’ve you got against Lilith?” Gawain asked.
The red-headed woman set her lips in a firm line. “There’s something not right about that wench. She’s two-faced.”
“And what about you?” Gawain asked Raja.
Raja chose her words carefully. She was never one to make a solid judgment of someone’s character until she had reasonable facts. “I am not really taken with her, either.”
“Why?”
“There’s something off about her,” she said.
“See?” Vanora said. “I’m not the only one.” She sauntered off to refill another customer’s mug.
“Besides, if she were up to something, don’t you think all of us men would have detected it by now? Especially Lancelot, he’s the one spending the most time with her.”
“No, I don’t think any of you would. You’re too infatuated with her.”
“I think you and Vanora are jealous,” Galahad accused.
Raja stiffened. “For what reason?” The Egyptian woman was used to be called names, especially in her childhood, but ‘jealous’ was one that made her preen. It insinuated uncomplimentary things about a person’s character: petty, low self-worth, judgmental.
“You and Vanora,” Gawain said wisely, “are used to being the only women among us– other than the one’s we bed - who we consider friends.”
“You all have had many women around you, and Vanora has never been one to snipe at them either. As for me, I am not and have never been the jealous type.” She saw Tristan approaching in the distance and left the table.
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Tristan met Raja halfway, his face was set in lines of irritation. After a brief word to calm him down, she gave a kiss and let him go on his way.
“Where’s Lancelot?” Tristan barked, approaching the table.
“Uh...” Galahad stumbled.
The scout let out a sharp hiss of air, cursing under his breath. He stalked off in the direction of Lancelot’s room.
“He’s-”
Tristan interrupted him: “I don’t give a shit.” His fist pounded on the door, and without waiting for answer, flipped the latch.
When the sunlight beamed through the room, The three men saw Lilith on all fours, Lancelot thrusting away. Lilith yelped and hastily covered herself.
“Goddammit, Tristan!” Lancelot yelled, pulling up his pants over his swollen erection. “Don’t you know how to knock?”
“I did knock,” he said. “Arthur wants you at the meeting hall – now.”
“Where are you going?” Lilith asked her lover.
He smiled and bent to kiss her. “I have to go to a meeting. Why don’t you wait in my room in the keep? I’ll join you later.”
She seemed overjoyed that she was being invited into stronghold. “I would love to.”
Minutes later, the five of them were passing by the tavern again. Tristan went to speak with Raja once more, while Lancelot got Vanora’s attention. “Would you take Lilith to my chambers in the keep?” He smiled charmingly. “I’ll reward you handsomely.”
She scoffed. “Do I look like your damned servant?”
“I do not think she likes me very much,” Lilith said when Vanora walked away. “Perhaps it would be best if I stayed in my tent tonight.”
He pulled her to him. “No worries,” he assured. “I’m sure my cousin won’t mind escorting you. Raja.”
Tristan glared darkly at Lancelot and Lilith when they stepped forward. His arm was around Raja’s waist, instinctually protective when he felt danger was near. His stare sent a cold chill down Lilith’s spine. It was as if he could hear her thoughts. And he stood next to his woman like he was protecting her from something.
Lancelot ignored Tristan’s stare. “Will you take Lilith to my room, Raja?” He knew better than to tack on any sugary promises.
Raja really did not want to. Like Tristan and Vanora, she felt the bad karma from Lilith, especially after the talk she had with Tristan then night before. Inviting Lilith into the keep was inviting the devil into your home.
“Please, Raja.” Lancelot asked sincerely.
“All right,” she conceded, making her cousin beam.
“That’s why you’re my favorite woman,” Lancelot kissed her on the cheek. He turned to Lilith, “You are in good hands.”
When Tristan kissed Raja goodbye, he whispered in her ear: “Careful.”
The men went on ahead, and Raja caught Vanora’s look of
caution as the Egyptian woman accompanied Lilith into the keep. As the two
women walked in silence, Lilith silently appraised Raja. Over the days, Lilith
had asked Lancelot about her as casually as she could, mentioning the two denarii his cousin had given her. He explained
that Raja was of noble blood, half Egyptian – and when her uncle left for
To grow up in wealth, Lilith had thought bitterly. She remembered her childhood years. Scrounging around for money, working from sunup to sundown just to put some food in her belly. It had only been her mother, father and she, and most of the money was used to support her father’s drinking and gambling habits. When she turned sixteen, a troupe of musicians and dancers had passed through the village. All Lilith had to do to join them was sleep with manager. The women taught her how to dance, and she was a natural. It was as if she now had power in her hands, able to make the strongest of men bow at her feet with only a rotation of her hips.
Still, she felt that something was missing from her life,
that she had been sold short. Her life was comfortable now, but she longed for
a high station. When Saladin had told her they were going to
Lilith had all the knights wrapped around her finger, all but the tattooed one. Raja’s husband. She was shocked to hear that. Lovers she could have understood, but married? The two seemed like night and day. Tristan was so raw, grungy...dirty, a beast. Raja was refined, noble...what was a woman of noble blood doing married to a Sarmatian knight? Those thoughts she had kept to herself.
The idea of seducing Tristan and getting him to tell her where his wife’s money was crossed through her mind, but as the days went by and she saw how devoted the man was to Raja, and how increasingly suspicious he was of her, that planned fizzled out. It was unnatural for a man to be so devoted to any woman. So, what? Raja was both rich and possessed a dutiful husband? That woman had too much.
Money or power? Money or power? Could she get her hands on that money through Lancelot? Or should she merely go for the killing of Arthur Castus and claim rank among the troupe? Turning Lancelot and Raja against one another would just be plain fun. Yet, the more she contemplated that, the more illogical it became. Surely that husband of hers would never allow her to get away with it. She would be found out eventually; whereas, if she got Arthur into her clutches, gained her rank and went off with her troupe, she would not have to worry about persecution.
“Here’s his room,” Raja said, opening the door.
Lilith stepped in, the accommodations were much more sumptuous than that of his hut. “Thank you,” she said.
Raja nodded and managed a smile. She didn’t ask Lilith if she needed anything else, she just wanted to get out of the woman’s company. She said goodbye and walked down the halls to her room. Raja had felt the side-long stare of Lilith’s eyes on her. Watching her for something. She practically heard the wheels moving in that woman’s head. Yes, there was something off about her, and she was damned tempted to run back to her cousin’s bedroom and throw Lilith out of it...but she didn’t.
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Once Raja had left the room, Lilith fell back on the large bed. Soft and comfortable. Her eyelids drooped, more tired than she had thought. She turned her head to the side and saw a single daisy in a thin vase. She scrunched her face in disgust. She hated daisies. Her hand shot out and whipped the flower from its stand. Lilith crushed the bud and let it drop to the floor – rubbing her hand on the bedspread as if it were diseased.
Hours later, she felt herself being shaken. Lilith’s eyes snapped opened and she lashed out.
“Lilith! Lilith! It’s me,” Lancelot calmed her, grabbing her wrists.
“Oh,” she laughed sheepishly. “Sorry, I must have been sleeping deeper than I thought.”
He smiled. “No trouble.”
Lilith stretched, raising her arms, her full breasts jutting out.
Lancelot shook himself from his stupor. “Would you like to have dinner with us in the tavern?” he asked, stroking her cheek. “It might be a good time for you to get to know Vanora. She’s not usually that snippy.”
“I would like that.”
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Throughout dinner Lilith managed to plant herself between Arthur and Lancelot. Both men were inveigled by her. She spoke to Arthur of his religious things, and he was surprised to find that she knew more than he had thought. Talking with him, Lilith was secretly satisfied that Arthur was so trusting, willing to see the good in everyone. That will be his downfall, she had thought.
Raja sat next to Lancelot, - Tristan having not joined them - circumspectly watching Lilith as she flirted with Arthur. Was her cousin not seeing this? The glint in Lilith’s eyes was a dark one, one that sparked of ill intentions. She got up from the table when she saw Vanora walk into the kitchens of the tavern.
Vanora smiled at her when she came in. “Is that wench flirting with every one of them?”
“Well, mostly with Arthur now.”
The woman scoffed in disgust.
“I’ll be right back,” Raja said.
After a minute or two, Lilith came into the kitchens, smiling sweetly. “Lancelot suggested that I join you. Is there anything I can do to help you?” She put on a shy demeanor by looking down to flatten her skirts.
“There is something you can do,” Vanora spat. “Leave.”
Like a nice day to a violent storm, Lilith’s shy demeanor evaporated. She sneered and gleamed pure contempt at the woman. “The men are so transfixed with me. I think I shall lay with every one of them. Or maybe take yours.”
Vanora turned slowly to face her. “Never touch what is mine.”
Lilith laughed scornfully. “Please! I have never failed to snatch any man.” She tossed her long hair over her shoulder. “They would all fall at my feet at the snap of my fingers.”
“I think you are forgetting about one certain man, dear,” Vanora smirked.
She snorted. “Oh, the Egyptian’s husband. A man like that is probably only bedding her because she has much money, no?” That comment was hot air – even Lilith had sure doubts about that. “In fact,” she added, just to put salt on the wound, “how many of them has little Raja slept with?”
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The knights heard crashing and yelling from in the kitchens. In less than minutes, they were there, gaping at the sight of Vanora and Lilith scratching and clawing at each other. Seeing the men arrive, Lilith instantly stopped fighting, acting the helpless woman.
“Hold her back,” Gawain said.
Bors grabbed Vanora by the waist and pulled her back, still struggling. Before anyone could help Lilith, someone pulled her and slammed her against the wall. Raja stared at her with pure frost. Her hand held her neck, as she stood nose to nose with her. She and Tristan had been listening at the back door, and when Vanora and Lilith started fighting, she wanted to go instantly, but Tristan held her back and said that Vanora could hold her own.
But with every word Lilith had uttered, Raja’s ire grew. Always, the second anyone spoke poorly of her family, fire would rage inside of her, and she would become a lioness protecting her territory. As for Tristan, he knew Lilith would get what was coming to her for speaking ill of Raja.
Finally, he let Raja go when the other men came, and his woman had that Succubus – which he had come to think of Lilith as – against the wall.
Now, as Raja stood close to Lilith, she whispered: “You never should have fucked with my family.”
“Raja, let her go,” Lancelot said, pushing his way into the room.
“Christ!” Arthur said, looking at Vanora. She had a shiner, scratches on her face and a split lip. But she had fared better than Lilith. “What the hell is going on here?” He saw Raja with a dagger in her hand. “Raja?”
Dagonet stood outside of the door, watchful.
Vanora struggled out of Bors’ hold. “She is making fools of all of you!”
“Enough, Vanora,” Bors barked. “I told you she was all right, didn’t I?”
“You haven’t given Lilith a chance,” Galahad said.
All the men’s eyes were shifting to Vanora and Raja, who still had her hand against Lilith’s neck, pure malevolence covering her face, her eyes a molten silver that threatened to harden into iron and shoot deadly blades from her irises.
“She told me everything she was doing” Vanora defended herself staunchly, hurt by their disbelief.
“I only came in here to help her,” Lilith said, tears and blood streaming down her face.
“She’s lying!” Vanora yelled.
“Bull,” Raja said, squeezing her neck, pulling it forward and then back so Lilith’s skull pounded against the wall.
“Raja!” Lancelot yelled, among the other protests of the men. “I said let her go.”
Raja looked away from Lilith for the first time. “You would take her word over ours?” Hurt and anger swam in her eyes.
“Don’t any of you see it?” Vanora snapped, looking at each one of them.
“Van, calm down,” he stroked her hair.
Vanora spun around and slapped him across the face. “Raja and I are both trying to tell you what that wench is up to, and you still refuse to believe!” Angry tears filmed her eyes. “You’ll wish you had listened to us.” She pushed her way through all the men and left.
“Raja,” Lancelot clenched his teeth. “Let. Her. Go.”
“Vanora is telling the truth, Lancelot,” Raja said. “Are you all sure you want to take her side?” The men looked away at the burning gaze of Raja’s silver eyes. At their heavy silence, Raja turned her eyes back on Lancelot. Quick as lightning, her dagger punctured the wall, sliding against the side of Lilith’s head.
She yelped and shook, crying harder.
“For fuck’s sake, Raja!” Lancelot screamed. But he knew his cousin had not missed, it was her intention to miss. He rushed forward, and pushed Raja away, her dagger coming free from the wall. Lilith fell into his arms, weeping against his chest.
Raja shook her head as her cousin who stared at her angrily.
“I never would have expected this from you,” he hissed.
“She’s lying to you Lancelot,” she replied calmly, giving him one last chance to come to her side. “To all of you.”
“Gods. I know you’ve been having a hard time of it lately, with your miscarriage and Ardeth dying, but taking it out on Lilith is unforgivable.”
His words made Raja’s face go flat. If her stare could have gotten any colder, it would have. “Have it your way.” When she turned she looked at each of the men she had called family...and shook her head in disappointment before leaving.
Arthur sighed. “We’ll get you cleaned up.”
“Thank you,” Lilith sniffled.
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Raja caught up with Vanora. “We have to see to your wounds.”
Vanora sniffled and looked at her with kindness. “Thank you. Those men are idiots.”
Tristan stepped out of the darkness, causing Vanora to yelp in surprise. “I heard everything, too.” His eyes turned to Raja, and she shrugged a shoulder to let him know she was all right.
“I knew it!” Vanora praised with mock-drama. “A man with some sense!”
One half of his mouth lifted in a smile. “I went to that Succubus woman’s camp and spoke to Saladin, the leader of the group. He distrusts Lilith as of late as well. He thinks that through Lancelot she is trying to gain some place of power.”
“Would not Arthur be better for that?” Vanora asked.
“I think that is part of her plan as well,” Tristan replied. “But through Lancelot she probably thinks she can get money out of him.” Again, his eyes went to Raja. “Or could have anyway.”
Raja cursed under breath. She knew it had to do with that money she put in Lilith’s purse.
“This is just the beginning of her plan unfolding,” Tristan said. “I have more to do.” He kissed Raja, murmuring a term of endearment in Sarmatian.
As he walked off, Raja took Vanora by the arm to go tend to her wounds.
“What was that about a Succubus?” Vanora asked.
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Lancelot and Arthur sat Lilith in the Lancelot’s chambers. Arthur began cleaning her wounds as gently as he could.
Lancelot eyes looked her up and down. “Vanora does not fight unless she has a good reason,” he said. “And my cousin,” – he was already regretting the comments he made about the miscarriage and Ardeth – “would never attack or hurt anyone that I like without a good reason.” His tone was laced with calm accusation.
Tears spilled over Lilith’s face again. “I am sorry. I don’t know why they dislike me or what I did to make them so angry.”
Crying women made him uncomfortable. He was about to attempt to comfort her when Arthur spoke: “Lancelot, could you get some hot water?”
He nodded, more than happy for an excuse to get away from her crying.
Lilith’s mind snapped to, ready to hash her plan now that Lancelot was gone. It had been sweet victory to see he and his cousin pitted against one another. But now, it would all have to come to an end.
Arthur felt Lilith’s heavy glare. Slowly, she brought her lips to his, her tongue pushing past the barrier of his lips and teeth. He groaned as her hand trailed down his chest to the juncture between his legs.
“Wait,” he said huskily. “I cannot do this. You’re Lancelot’s woman.”
“He does not own me,” she answered, already stripping him of his tunic. Her nails raked the bare of his chest, sending tingles throughout his body.
As Lilith distracted him with heated kisses, she took out her own dagger. She straddled him on the bed, but as she raised the blade, Arthur’s eyes shot open. His yell of pain rang out as it sank into his shoulder. Before she could plunge the dagger in for the kill, she was yanked back.
Arthur saw Vanora grappling with Lilith, and then the rest of the knights rushed into the room. Lilith scrambled away with a whoosh of speed. Tristan’s dagger caught her in the back of the shoulder, but it did not slow her down.
“Take care of Arthur,” Lancelot ordered.
The Commander’s world went black.
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Lilith rushed to her camp, calling for help. Saladin hurried out of his tent, catching a hysterical Lilith in his arms.
“Help me, Saladin!” she pleaded. “They will kill me!”
He saw the blood on her dress and hands. “What have you done, Lilith?”
“Please! Dear Saladin,” – she clutched him tightly – “help me and you may take my body whenever you wish.” Wide eyes looked up at her only savior.
He was silent for a moment. When he agreed, she thought how easily men succumbed to her female wiles.
“Thank you,” she breathed. “Thank you for not letting them kill me.”
He nodded. “They will not kill you.”
Lilith saw the blade he held in his hand, it twinkled beneath the moonlit night. As Saladin’s dagger spilled her blood, she thought how life was so unfair. How she had been sold short. She deserved more.
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The knights rode to the camp, the horses’ hooves trampling the ground viciously. Saladin stood, waiting for them, he knew they would come eventually.
“The woman,” Lancelot spat. “Hand her over.”
“I cannot do that, Sarmatian,” Saladin replied.
“We have no ire with the rest of your people, but if you do not give us the woman, that will change,” the first knight said.
“That woman,” Saladin spoke, “lies dead in my tent. All I can do is apologize for the blood of your leader she has spilt. However” – he snapped his fingers and two men dragged another man to Saladin, unceremoniously dropping him to his feet – “this you can have.”
“Who is this?” Lancelot asked.
“A man who was once my friend, Cassum. He and Lilith were, apparently, planning to overthrow our troupe. By way of murdering your commander.”
“We’ve known one another since childhood, Saladin!” Cassum cried. “And you would hand me over to them?”
“Disloyalty always reaps its just rewards.” Saladin picked him up by the scruff of his neck and all but threw him to Tristan. “Blood for blood.”
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The men filed in Lancelot’s hut where an injured Arthur lay. Vanora finished stitching his wound. The worried look on their faces stirred the compassion in her. “He lost a lot of blood, and will need rest.”
Dagonet handed her a salve.
“Vanora,” Galahad said, “we should have believed you.”
“And Raja,” she pointed out.
He nodded.
“I’m still angry. Your inability to believe me makes me wonder what kind of person you think I am.”
They were silent again when Raja walked into the room, followed by Tristan. The Egyptian put a cup of one of her most foul-tasting herbal concoctions on the bedside table. Arthur would live, but he had also crossed her.
Vanora got up to leave without so much as a word, passing by Bors coldly.
Bors sighed. “I should go after her, I have more to make up for, she being the mother of my children and all.” Before he left, he turned to Raja, who just stared at him blankly.
“Go on,” she said, dismissing him. She felt Arthur’s temperature, and making sure it was stable, she made to leave.
Gawain cleared his throat. They all knew Raja was not one to forgive betrayal easily.
Lancelot started to speak, but Raja held up her hand sharply. “None of you should bother. I do not forgive disloyalty as easily as Vanora. You took Lilith’s word over mine, even though you’ve all known me since I was a child.”
Each of them winced at her frozen tone.
“It makes me wonder what sort of person you think I am, if your good opinions of me are traded so capriciously.” The only person that followed her out was Tristan.
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For the next week, Raja spoke to none of them. She was good at acting as if they did not exist. The hurt went too deep. It was a character weakness of hers, and her Uncle Ardeth had had many talks with her over the years about forgiving those who have done wrong. And as she had grown, her reactions to transgressions had tapered off from violent calculations to a bitter-cold ostracism of the person who had offended.
After another week went by, the words spoken to her slamming into a brick wall, Bors caught up with her and pulled her into one of his big bear hugs, her fit lifting off the ground, knocking the breath out of her. Her body was stiff, and she made no protests.
“I won’t let you go until you forgive me,” he said.
“All of us!” Galahad called out.
Raja remained quiet.
“I mean it,” he repeated gruffly. “You can’t stay mad at Bors. Remember when I used to give you piggy-back rides?”
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t forgive you, but I accept what has happened and move on from it.”
Bors knew that was the best he was going to get, so he set her down. Her eyes were still placid when she looked at him though.
“Ah, she’s a tough one,” Bors said, sitting down at the table.
When Lancelot heard that Raja was speaking to the other men, his hopes raised that she might speak with him as well. He found her in the stables.
“Raja,” he said her name hesitantly, and by the immediate stillness of her body, he knew she had not forgiven him. The words he had said of the miscarriage and her uncle had gone too far. But he could not let this silence go on between them. He stood in front of her, blocking her way.
He stood so close that her nose was less than an inch from his chest. Lancelot looked down at the top of her head. The sound of shuffling hay and the breathing of horses surrounded them.
“I really liked her,” he said. “I didn’t want to believe.” When she said nothing, he embraced her, bending so his cheek touched her head. “You’ll have to talk to me again one day.”
Fifteen minutes later, that was how Tristan found them. Lancelot’s arms around her, Raja’s hanging limp by her sides. “I love you, cousin,” he said, kissing her on her hair. He passed Tristan without a word.
“Hmm.” Raja sniffed and flattened her chemise, and the flyaway hairs that Lancelot had mussed. “As if I did not know he genuinely liked her,” she said.
“Let’s go for a ride,” Tristan said.
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Lancelot closed the door to his room in the keep. He plopped on the bed, head in his hands. After he rubbed his face, his eyes caught on to a white petal near the hell of his boot. In all that happened, he didn’t realize that there was no daisy in the face on his nightstand. Bending down, he saw the rest of the crushed flower half-hidden under the bed.
He smiled ruefully. Ever since Raja was a child, she had made sure there was one fresh daisy in his room. The only thing that might give caught to doubt that this was a man’s room. Eventually, he had come to like the single flower with it’s immaculate white petals, not that he ever told anyone that.
He sighed heavily, and flopped back on the bed – exhausted.
Currency Meaning:
as=bronze
dupondius= bronze or copper
sestertius= metal alloy
denarius= silver alloy