The Betrayal of Guy of Gisbourne
Guy awoke with a start, something small and heavy had just landed with a bump on his bed. He ignored it and put it down to something in his dreams. He rolled over and attempted to slip back off into his peaceful slumber. Seconds later another projectile landed with a soft bump on his pillow. Guy turned his head and looked at the object, his eyes struggling to adjust to the pitch black darkness surrounding him. He reached out his hand and felt along his pillow until his fingers wrapped around the mysterious object. He rubbed his thumb along it; it was small and cold, with a course texture. A stone? His gaze shifted to the window, the shutters open allowing the cool night breeze to circulate the room during the muggy summer night. Guy sighed; only one person would be childish enough to throw stones through windows in the middle of the night for attention. Guy reached around for his tunic and pulled it over his head. He looked down; at least he already had his breeches on. He stumbled groggily to the window and looked down into the courtyard as a third stone soared through the darkness and hit him straight between the eyes. Guy stumbled back and promptly tripped over a stool. As he lay there on the cool stone floor he cast his mind back, this was not the first time he had ended up lying in this exact position in the dead of night after being hit in the head by a flying piece of rock. Robin Locksley's aim may have been famously unbeatable – but his timing was infamously awful. Guy pulled himself to his feet and stood to the side of the window, this time remembering to wave his arm out to make Robin aware that he was standing there this time. When enough time had passed with no projectiles, Guy cautiously shuffled across and looked out again into the courtyard.
"Guy! Pssst! Guy! I'm down here! Guy! Psst!" Robin whispered hoarsely, dancing on the spot and waving his arms about his head. Spotting his friend in the window gap Robin threw an additional rock to make his friend aware of his position. Guy suddenly disappeared from view. Robin bit his lip for a moment, the thought then struck him. He licked his index finger and held it into the breeze, a westerly blow. "Damn, I didn't allow for that. That'll have gone straight between the eyes. He is not going to be happy." Robin muttered. His eyes then travelled up the side of the house and rested again upon the window. After a few seconds an arm protruded out and waved, followed a few seconds later by the bulk of the rest of his friend. Robin smiled. He didn't look as grumpy as the last time he had hit him with a rock.
"What do you want?" Guy said, rubbing at the quickly growing lump on his forehead.
"We're supposed to go hunting remember? It's a perfect night for it. Just enough moon and stars that we can see and just enough cloud coverage that we can keep out of site. Grab your dagger and meet me at the door" Robin replied. Guy grumbled. He had forgotten tonight was hunt night. There was no point arguing. Robin always won anyway. Guy ran through the argument in his head - 'I don't want to.' 'Oh but you never want to. Come on, it'll be a great adventure.' 'No it won't I'll end up hurt, stuck somewhere or covered in something not pleasant as usual.' 'But think of the look on Marion's face if you bring back the big buck? Women love a man that can provide.' Marion; always the stumbling block, always the thing that made Guy do things he didn't really want to do. All done in the name of Marion. Robin knew this and played on it whenever he could to get his own way. Guy had few weaknesses, but Marion Fitzwalter was definitely Robin's favourite. He wandered over to the back door and leaned against the wall beside it. Robin took a sharp breath and watched the clouds move over the moon, a shudder went up his spine. The prospect of a hunt had always excited him and provided a chance to show off – but tonight felt different. Suddenly Robin felt unsure, an emotion the over-confident youngster had never really experienced before. Something felt wrong; the woods that had been his playground suddenly looked threatening and uninviting. Robin shook it off. He was over thinking, the closeness of the night getting to him. The familiar thudding footsteps of Guy could be heard making their way down the stairs inside. He burst through the wooden door and glared at Robin.
"Never really were one for stealth were you Gisbourne? Come on, I'll race you to the oak and tell you my plan" with that, Robin raced across the courtyard and disappeared into the tree line. Guy stood still for a moment, taking in the night air. There was little point in racing Robin. He was much slighter in build than Guy and could cover great distance very quickly. Guy on the other hand was taller with a broader stature; built more for hand to hand combat as his father would say. The two boys looked very strange from a distance, their height difference being much more obvious from further away. Their differences did not end here; Robin was fair in complexion with sandy coloured hair and a cheeky demeanour. Guy, however, was much darker. His raven black hair hung about his neck and skimmed his eyebrows. Guy much preferred to sit and read, whereas Robin would rather push to see how much trouble he could get into and then use his boyish charm to try and get out of it – which nearly always worked. Marion was the only exception.
As Guy jogged to the tree-line his mind again turned to Marion; would she really be impressed with a good hunt? She had never struck him as the type to swoon over the cocksure types like Robin. She had always seemed more impressed with Guy's love of reading and his imagination. She had always said she loved the way his mind worked. Guy hoped to marry her one day. At the age of thirteen Guy had little idea of what love was – but he was fairly sure that the safe and warm feeling he got inside when he thought of her was a very good interpretation of it. He allowed himself to smile, marry Marion Fitzwalter? Stranger things had happened. Guy arrived at the oak tree; Robin was nowhere to be seen. Guy drew his dagger and surveyed his surroundings; he turned his head up and stared intently into the branches. Visibility was virtually non-existent, but Guy new exactly what Robin was going to do; now he just had to work out where he was going to do it from. He licked his index finger and held it out, still a westerly breeze. In order to do his normal trick Robin would need to be up wind to keep the shot as smooth as possible. Guy eyed up a likely tree branch, the clouds favouring him as Robin moved his foot just too late, the moon caught it giving away his position. Guy grinned and moved towards the tree, skimming the ground and picking up a twig. He listened for the tell-tale sound of bow string being pulled and through the twig into the air, tapping Robin on the back of the knee. It was just enough to push Robin off his balance and send him tumbling off the branch and onto the ground beside a laughing Guy. Robin jumped up and glared, rubbing his backside.
"That wasn't funny! You could have killed me!"
"What? It's not my fault you're becoming too predictable. Or that you're stupid. I may not be stealthy, but you're no strategist" Guy giggled, patting his friend on the shoulder. Robin shook it off, he would let Guy have this one, he rarely beat Robin at anything, but to be fair when he did it was often in epic style. Robin brushed himself off and felt around for his quiver and his bow. "So, what's this plan then?" Guy quizzed. "Assuming you have one and it's not the usual sit in a bush for several hours and wait?"
"No, you'll be shocked to know I actually do have a plan this time, and it's already set up. So you were half right, there will be a little bit of waiting but not like it was last time" Robin replied shoving past Guy further into the woods. Guy sighed and followed. Robin Locksley and a bruised ego were neither a nice combination nor good company, but he still felt it was worth it to see him fall on his backside.
The two boys stopped at the edge of a ditch. "This is my plan" Robin triumphantly grinned and waved an arm at the ditch. Guy looked from the ditch, to Robin, back to the ditch and finally back to Robin. He let out an unimpressed snort. "Scoff all you like Gisbourne, you haven't heard the best part. I've put a trip rope between these two trees. The buck has been feeding regularly in the clearing just beyond these trees, I've tracked him and he's there tonight. I'm going to direct him here with my arrows, when he gets close enough I need you to pull the trip wire tight, he'll trip, fall into the ditch and there we have it – easiest catch you'll ever make!" Robin stood with his hands on his hips, a self-satisfied grin on his face.
"That's it? That's your plan? You're going to make the stag fall over? Surely just shooting it with an arrow would be quicker, easier, and a lot more comfortable for me? At least I wouldn't have to sit in a bush – again."
"No, the whole idea is that people, especially Marion, think that you have caught the buck. If I shoot it they'll know it was me. Let's face it guy, your aim with a bow and arrow is terrible. Trust me, this plan is faultless. Which is why people will think it was you as it has depth, it's sategic!"
"You mean strategic. And yes, I'll give you that, you have thought it through...do you really think this is going to impress Marion?"
"I'm certain. Have I ever lead you wrong before? Actually don't answer that, just trust me. Right, you stay by this tree, when you hear the buck coming, pull the rope tight. Right, I'm off to do what I do best."
"Shoot at the floor?"
"I can shoot at other things! But yes, in this case I am off to shoot at the floor!" Robin grinned, patted Guy on the arm and disappeared off into the darkness. Guy smiled to himself and looked up at the moon, half covered with cloud. A shudder went up his spine. Something wasn't right tonight. Guy shook it off, Robin knew what he was doing and the plan was good; rough around the edges, but good. He was obviously learning. Guy settled himself into position and held onto the end of the rope and listened intently. Nothing could be heard but the call of the occasional bird or the breeze rustling the trees. It was becoming warmer, the night air was becoming thicker and closer. Guy couldn't wait for autumn, he hated the muggy months of summer. At least in autumn you got the sunshine without the bitter cold or the boiling heat – a nice compromise.
Robin silently climbed up the tree at the edge of the clearing, the stag clearly in his sites. He smiled; this was going to be easier than he had first thought. Robin lined up his first arrow, aiming just between the stag's rear legs and fired - The arrow landed with a thump – enough to put the buck on edge. Robin fired another near its head, the stag began to move backwards, and Robin fired again, leaving the stag with only one arrow-free exit. He held in a cheer of triumph – the plan was working. He turned to climb down and adjust his vantage point. Disaster struck – Robin's tunic caught on the branch knocking him off balance. He bit back a shout of terror and fell with a crash on the ground at the foot of the tree. He bounced back to his feet immediately and looked around him, nobody had seen. He let out a sigh of relief and began to brush himself off. But something had seen… the buck stood stock still in front of Robin and stared. Their eyes met, Robin felt a stab of dread inside him as the stag started to bark and dig at the ground. Robin turned and ran; the stag giving chase behind him. He tried to shout to Guy but every gulp of air trapped in his throat as he ran and jumped, trying to escape back through the wood, the stag close behind him.
Guy turned his head; he could hear thumping footsteps…the stag must be close. He pulled the trip wire and waited. He looked out over the wood, the shadows and shapes of the trees clear in the moonlight, but the moonlight faded. He looked up and saw nothing but thick black clouds engulfing the stars and the moon; leaving the woods in complete darkness. He pulled the rope as taught as he could and hoped for the best; the footsteps drawing closer and closer, until he felt as though the stag was right upon him. Guy suddenly felt the rope pull and heard a thud in the ditch, but the pull didn't feel strong enough to be a stag. Then there was a second pull, this one was much stronger and nearly pulled Guy out from behind his tree, a much louder thud… a crack… and then silence. Guy waited for a moment and then crawled to his feet. He could see nothing; the cloud cover had taken away any visibility. As though it was answering his prayers, the cloud suddenly lifted, revealing the moon and drowning the ditch in moonlight, Guy edged closer to take a look inside. He could see the stag – its neck broken – he had his prize, but there was something else. He could see a hand… an arm. He stepped closer and looked around the head of the stag - he could make out a person, a body. Guy's stomach somersaulted. He could make out a face – Robin!
"Robin! Robin! Wake up! Are you okay! Oh my God! Robin, can you hear me?" Guy cried, he dropped to his knees and slid into the ditch. He tried to lift the stag but couldn't get enough purchase on it to move it. Robin was stuck. Guy sank back into the side of the ditch, his breathing quickening. He held his hand over Robin's mouth – thank God he was still breathing. Guy pushed his hair out of his eyes, sweat pouring down his face. What should he do? He didn't want to leave him but he needed to get help. Guy took a deep breath. He knew his home wasn't far – he could be there and back with help in no time. "Robin, Robin, I'm going to get help...it's going to be all right...I'll be back as quick as I can. Hold on Robin, Hold on!" Guy squeezed his friends shoulder and clambered his way out of the ditch. With one last look at his unconscious friend, Guy turned and ran from the woods as fast as he could. His only thought to get his friend out of that ditch.
Guy ran for what felt like forever – surely they hadn't ventured that far into the woods? He could see the oak tree; he couldn't be that far from the edge of the woods. He reached the oak, his breath catching in his throat, he had to stop for a moment – just to catch his breath. He leaned against the tree, drinking in the night air. It was so hot and close that this offered little salvation to Guy. He wiped the sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his tunic. He froze; he could hear horses running towards him. His heart swelled – he could get help to Robin even quicker. Guy launched himself off the tree but misjudged his own tiredness and felt himself hit the ground. The four horsemen drew to a halt in front of him. Guy lifted his head; the first rider jumped off and lifted him to his feet. He dragged him by his upper arm to the rear of his horse.
"I suppose you'll be knowing this boy then? Speak up laddy, I don't have time for fools" the man snapped gruffly shaking Guy by the arm. Guy looked at the figure slumped over the back of the horse and nodded.
"Robin" he gasped, barely able to speak through his exhaustion. The man drew a sharp breath.
"Robin you say? Locksley? That'll fetch a fine price when we return him to his father. An' as for you young whelp, fancy running off and leaving him there, most likely be the lash for you." The man laughed and shoved Guy towards one of the other men who bound his hands and attached the rope to his saddle. Guy's throat and mouth were so dry he couldn't utter a reply or explanation – he silently jogged alongside the horses as they rode to Locksley House. By this time dawn was breaking, morning traders were making their way to town to set up for the day and the road was becoming busy. Guy dropped his head in shame as townspeople pointed at his bound hands and gasped at Robin's unconscious body. Guy felt a stab of terror – the road travelled passed Marion's house. Had Guy been able to speak and offer the true version of events, he would have done – but his mouth and throat were still dry as a bone, he simply continued to jog alongside the horse, staring at the ground. Out the corner of his eye he saw Marion run to her front gate, her dark curls bouncing on her shoulders, her deep blue eyes brimming with concern.
"Sir! Sir! Please, these boys are my friends! What has happened?" She cried.
"The dark'un left the small'un to die in a ditch M'lady. Don't worry yourself, I reckon the small'un'll live, can't say much about the dark'un though!" The man let out a deep, grunting laugh and pulled on Guy's bonds. Marion stared in disbelief. She looked to Guy, who met her glance for a moment, his eyes wet with tears. Marion's heart sank. Surely he would have spoken if this had been untrue? She let out a sob and ran back in to her house and threw herself on her bed. Guy tried to shout but his voice betrayed him, finally overcome by lack of water – Guy fell to his knees and closed his eyes.
Guy opened one eye; he was in a bed, his bed. Definitely his bed, the stones Robin had thrown the night before were still there. That meant it hadn't been a dream; Robin had been hurt, they all thought he was to blame. He sat bolt upright, someone had left a jug of water on his table; he drank it down with one gulp. He could hear raised voices elsewhere in the house and raced out of his room following the noise. He slid to a halt outside the dining hall. One raised voice was his Father, he was certain of that. The other was older and much deeper – Lord Locksley. Guy began to shake. Robin's father had never liked him. This was not going to end well. Guy knocked on the door – the voices fell silent and heavy footsteps could be heard making their way towards him. The door swung open and Guy found himself eye to eye with his father; a man of similar build and colouring to his son, but with cruel eyes and a hooked nose. He grabbed Guy by the arm and threw him into the middle of the room. Guy barely had time to recover his balance, when an additional blow to the side of the head knocked him to his knees. Lord Locksley bore down upon him with a fearful rage.
"You leave my son to die and try to run! You heinous little demon! I'll show you the meaning of fear! It's the lash for you boy make no mistake! And that's just for starters! If my boy dies I'll have your evil little head! Do you understand me boy?" Lord Locksley bellowed his threats and looked expectantly at Guy, awaiting some sort of reply or begs for mercy. Guy took a deep breath and tried to gather his strength and courage.
"I didn't leave Robin to die! The whole thing was an accident. He was helping me catch a stag to impress Marion. He'd dug the ditch and asked me to wait with a trip rope while he drew the stag to me. The light disappeared and I couldn't see. I…I could only hear. I swear if I'd seen him I wouldn't have pulled the rope. I swear!" Guy cried, tears pouring down his face. He looked to his father, hoping to find an ally, but all he found was disbelief and disgust. His father nodded his head and went to speak. Lord Locksley however got there first.
"You lying toad! We found the arrows in the clearing! My son doesn't miss – ever! And he doesn't do strategy. The ditch and tripwire are classic examples of your type of plans! Don't you dare accuse my son when he cannot defend himself! Your lies will not save you. And as for Marion, she and Robin have been betrothed since birth – know your place whelp! I demand the lash for him Gisbourne!" Lord Locksley looked on triumphant as Gisbourne senior nodded. Guy fell back to his knees. He looked up at Lord Locksley's face; Robin had had that same look on his face earlier when he explained the plan. They were more similar than Robin liked to admit. Guy let out silent tears and accepted his fate. There was no point fighting it. Their minds were made up. The plan had succeeded at least partly as Robin had meant – everybody definitely believed it was Guy's – especially Marion… Marion? The look on her face had hurt Guy most of all. If he explained she would probably believe him, but the chances of his father letting him stay after this disgrace were next to nothing – it was better if she hated him – it would hurt her less. Besides, when Robin woke up and told them all the truth, his Father might let him come back. Guy felt the hands of two guards pull him to his feet – he was being taken to the court yard for his lashes – 70 in total. By the end of it Guy could hardly breathe through the pain. This was the closest he had ever felt to death. He kept his eyes locked on his father's throughout – neither of them blinking.
Guy packed the last of his things into his trunk. It had been three days since the woods and Robin still hadn't woken up. Guy had been shunned by the town completely. Although his family were of high social standing, they were not as high up as the Locksley's. Times like these meant sides needed to be taken, and the people had chosen. Guy winced, the pain in his back and shoulders from the lashings still raw. He closed his trunk lid and looked around his room; he was going to miss it. He was being packed off to an uncle in London to 'teach him a lesson or two'. It wouldn't be for long, he kept telling himself. Only until Robin tells everyone the truth and he could come back. Come back to his old life, his friends, to Marion. One thought bothered him, he had not known that Robin and Marion were betrothed; he doubted that Robin and Marion knew either. He couldn't see this causing a problem though, Robin had never shown much interest in Marion, he had always said she was stuck up and she had always said he was an arrogant pig. Guy smiled. He would miss their spats.
As Guy stepped in to the carriage he took one last look at the place he called home and spotted Marion walking up the road with a bunch of flowers and a basket. She met his gaze and they froze for a moment, looking at each other. She dropped her head and walked away, heading towards Locksley House. Guy sighed; she was so lovely, taking things up to Robin in his sick bed. Even after all the horrible things he had said to her over the years she was still willing to be nice to him in his hour of need. Guy sighed, and smiled, it wouldn't be long until Robin was awake and could tell everyone the truth. Then he could come home again.
Four years passed. Guy, now a much broader and muscular man more than boy, sat on the end of his bed. He glared in to the roaring fire and tapped his foot on the floor, a letter from his mother grasped in his hand. His Mother had written to him many times, but this one had finally pushed him over the edge. Robin Locksley was alive and well, as far as everyone knew. He had joined the crusades and was off fighting the heroic fight in the holy land. And Marion, Marion had agreed to wait for him until he got back. It clicked with Guy why he had never been sent for to come home. Robin had never told the truth. He allowed the lie to continue, so he could have Marion. Guy snarled and threw the letter into the fire with disgust. He turned to his table, the two stones that his friend had thrown through his window the night it had all happened sat there. He scooped them up and threw them into the fire. He had been deluded, waiting there for years believing that Robin would save him because they were friends. But they were no longer friends. Robin Locksley was now Guy Gisbourne's enemy, and it was time to start planning his revenge.