Protecting A Templar Legacy

Author's Note: Okay, here is the next chapter. Mind you, this is more of the draft version (I'll repost the final as soon as I get it). All mistakes are my fault! Tee hee. A big thank you to all my reviewers here, Raife (I'm still awaiting your next chapter lol!) and June Birdie, I'm glad u like my "no shit taking" character! Go Lillis, Go Lillis! (And yes, if anyone asks, I am a *complete* lunatic lol...). *Holds up a fist and yells, "girl power"* lmao. Anyway, all reviews are welcome! (its like candy, I gotta have it!)


Chapter Three: Glimpses and Unwanted Advances

She stood there, rooted to the spot, stunned and unmoving. They are here… A million thoughts seemed to shoot through her all at once and Lillis could not, for the life of her, determine which emotion she felt more: Hatred? Apprehension? Confusion…? All of it seemed to pulsate through her veins simultaneously, fierce and unrelenting. For two years she had waited, hoping to be thrown a lifeline like this. She was not lost, nor misplaced; the thought was comforting just as it was unsettling. Strange, how life worked…

The old man had been telling the truth to her in his forewarning. ‘In your journey, the wall’s fort is the key. It is the place to where your origin and enemies lie. Protect the one who bears your mark and guard the knights born of true legend. It is apart of your destiny, as well as the one who will arise from your coming…’

The identity of that elder, the one whose eyes seem to bore a blend between infinite wisdom and compassion, had yet to be revealed. Perhaps in time, Lillis thought solemnly, their paths would cross again. She had a deep-rooted feeling that it was inevitable.

She was still searching for the one that carried a birth mark similar to her own, one who was apart of a familiar prophecy that her own mother had told her during her youth. ‘The child born with the mark of the Dog Star is to be the chosen of the bloodline. Two will bear the mark, the beginning and the end’.

'And I am the end', Lillis thought sadly. That is why she was here and not dieing in her own time. She was brought to the beginning, the beginning of it all...

A soft, muffled call caught her attention. She tucked the cloth quickly and firmly within the confines of her skirt pocket, making certain that her message was carefully concealed. Her ears picked up another voice. “Lady Lillis!”

She had been cleaning on the opposite side of the bar, obscured from the view of the tavern’s remaining occupants, which were very few in number. The voices belonged to neither Dagonet, who she had met tonight, nor Sir Bors. It had to be one of the men at the silent table from earlier, their voices and nerves likely rising by the aid of ale and merriment.

Men and boos… it either gave them a set of balls or it just made them drop a notch in intellect. Either way, she had to deal with them. Vanora was taking her break for the night. Sighing heavily, Lillis made her way past the bar, her eyes falling upon the familiar sight of an occupied table.

The three still remained, a man with plaited blonde hair and bright blue eyes, the youngest looking of the knights, a man younger in age than Lillis herself, and a dark, handsome man with a trimmed mustache and deep brown eyes that seemed to look right through her. Beside them, Lillis noticed with some discomfort, were two others. They seemed eerily interested in meeting her.

‘Jesus, what am I to these guys,’ Lillis sneered in silence, ‘fresh meat!’

Ignoring the lusty looks she was gaining as she sauntered over to them, Lillis asked. “What can I get you boys?”

The two newcomers seemed taken aback by her voiced question while the other three simply grinned, the dark one answering smoothly, “We will have four mugs of ale, Milady,” he ordered.

It appeared as if she was foreign to them, as if they were unacquainted with a female specimen such as she. Then again, Lillis knew that her voice was thick, ringing out with a heavy south jersey accent, but she hadn’t expected it to gain too much attention from these Briton inhabitants. She knew her voice was unheard of in this time and place but REALLY! Did it matter what accent her voice carried? She hated being singled out and focused upon just because of that trait alone.

Nodding quietly, Lillis turned around, about to leave in the direction of the bar… she was surprised, however, when she felt hands gently grasp her by the waist and pull her flush up against a hard chest of muscle. Her eyes darted to the man holding her against him, not forcibly, but gently. He gazed down at her in innocence, his mouth quirking in a bemused smile. “You know, my lady, it is tradition here that the new barmaids of this tavern accompany a patron home on her first night. I’d be honored if you should come with me after your shift here is over.”

Lillis quirked an eyebrow, almost tempted to deck the man that now held her intimately against him. The man had balls, that was for damn sure… especially to grab a woman such as Lillis in such a deliberate manner.

He was the charmer of the group and that trait was blatantly obvious. Lillis had no doubt that he used that charm to his advantage when the opportune moment arose for it. An opportune moment such as the present, but only, Lillis was not fooled. And she certainly had no taste for a man interested only in a one-night stand!

Her normal reaction, if it had been a man from her own time period, would have been to either break his nose or slice off his hand. However, this was not the 21st century and different times called for different measures. Answering with a calm and collected voice, Lillis retorted, “Well, that might be fine and good, Sir, as a Briton tradition. However, they are not mine and where I come from you don’t go grabbing a woman when she passes by. If you grab the wrong one you are more than likely to find it to be a relatively painful experience. I’m here for a job, not amusement. Now let me go or you’ll find those drinks being poured over your head.”

The plaited blonde one seemed to be biting the insides of his cheeks, his face showing amusement on the other man’s behalf. The others seemed to be holding back laughter as well.

“My, you show sass, Madam.”

“I can show a lot more than that but you’d be lucky not to get on my bad side.”

Seeing her frosty expression, Lancelot took her words for truth. “Aye, my lady. If you wish me to release you, you have only but to ask.”

She stood up abruptly as his arms let her go. “Now that that is understood, can I get you anything else?” almost as an afterthought, Lillis added, “Or if it is female company that you men crave so much, should I get young Hermoine out from the kitchens?”

The men seemed to visibly cringe in horror at the thought. Yes, Lillis summarized with malicious satisfaction, they were well acquainted with that snot of a girl.

“You do not have to trouble yourself with that task,” the youngest spoke up, “you will have to forgive Lancelot’s manners, My Lady, he is too bold with women. He doesn’t know how to have a conversation with one without putting his hands on her-“

Lancelot scoffed at his companion, as did the blonde. “And you do, Galahad?” He retorted.

Galahad shrugged.

“Well, at least one of you has manners,” Lillis countered back, “And he’d be the less likely to find himself in a bad situation.”

Knowing defeat, Lancelot cocked his head to the side, replying gracefully, “I apologize then, Lady Lillis, if I may have offended you. I promise to keep my hands to myself from now on.”

“Good. I accept your apology. Now that we’re square, I’ll go get you those drinks.” Walking off, Lillis smiled. She loved putting womanizers in their place.

As she left, the men began to talk merrily amongst themselves.

“Well, Gawain, if you wish to take up a woman like that for a bedmate, please do,” Lancelot spoke quietly, “… though, you’d be more likely to find a knife at your throat before getting her into bed!”

Gareth laughed heartily. ”Quite the challenge that one is… I like me a spitfire woman!”

“I think I’ll hold out for my beautiful Sarmatian bride,” Gawain replied in mock dejection, a smile brightening upon his face. “You can have her Lancelot!”

Lancelot shrugged. “There isn’t a woman that I can’t seduce,” he replied with a charming smile, “I’ll just have to go about it by a different approach.”

“Oh? And what different approach would that be?” Penn, another companion asked, “Get her drunk and disoriented?… If a woman gets in that state, my friend, she can mistaken someone like Bors for being a beautiful Sarmatian prince!”

The group laughed heartily, the alcohol digested only increasing their merriment.

Standing next to them in the shadows, Tristan observed the group in silence. He couldn’t help the bemused expression that formed upon the corners of his mouth. From the show he had just seen, the young Lillis was most certainly a headstrong woman, opinionated and full of mystery. Considering that she outright refused the advances of Lancelot, he respected her more already. However, there was a cloud of suspicion that surrounded her.

She wasn’t a meek female and her figure definitely gave off a toned and muscular appearance… like she was used to just more than minor labor in a bar tavern. She was graceful, quick on her feet, and held a wit that was different from normal women of these parts. And where did a woman such as herself come from?

She talked of women from her land like they were the equivalent to amazons. Well, not to that extent, but close to them being women of independence. Her skin, as earlier, was concealed. She was conscious, even now, of what her sleeve kept hidden. Markings? Scars of her past perhaps?

Listening half heartedly to what his companions were now saying, Tristan turned his attention to a familiar sound. His hawk companion had finally returned; She would no doubt come to meet him on the other side. Walking away stealthily within the shadows, Tristan spotted her.

He was out of range from his companions. However, not so from the young barmaid that he had kept watch over. She stared over at him for a stunned moment, watching him intently like he had her, moments ago, in silence.

The hawk flew to his arm as he whistled to it and Lillis stood, awestruck, from across the tavern. It was he who was the focus of attention, not her any longer.

Ignoring the woman’s penetrating gaze, Tristan stroked her feathers, whispering soothing words of affection to her. The hawk cackled in reply, her beak rubbing absently against the sleeves of his black tunic. Moments seem to pass as he caressed the bird fondly. He felt the eyes no longer on him and before leaving, turned to seek out his watcher… whyhad she been scrutinizing him so intently?

When he looked over to his side, he found, with some disappointment, that she was gone.

She was indeed, a foreign mystery. But then, Tristan thought quietly, she probably thought the same of him as most women did. He was observant, almost too observant for his own good. But it was that one trait that set him apart from all the rest.

Let Lancelot bed the woman, as he most often tried and succeeded at doing with the rest. Tristan, however, was more determined to find out her significance. Was she a spy… or perhaps a refugee from her land of origin? An escaped prisoner of Rome?

Either one, he thought quietly, it mattered not. He was resolute to find out what his suspicions and instincts sensed. She had a reason for being here, in Briton, and it wasn’t one of random unimportance either.

Deciding to retire for the night, Tristan walked back to his rooms at the fort barracks, leaving the courtyard where the rest of his companions drank and joked merrily up until the early hours of dawn.


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