Sir Guy of Gisborne sat on the edge of his cot with his head in his hands. She wants me to kill the Sheriff. Really, there was nothing he would have liked better, but it would take such risk. He wouldn't mind at all if he could know beyond a shadow of a doubt that she would actually keep her end of the bargain. What if she's lying again? The hope of marrying the woman whose very presence in this world kept him from the death that beckoned him when he was alone at night threatened to consume him. He fought to keep his mind in reality; to remember that she felt no love for him in return. He ran his fingers over the scar by his left eye, and his thoughts turned to a day that haunted his nightmares. Once again, he felt her fist connect with his face as the ring he had given her dug into his cheek; utter bewilderment swallowed him, followed by rage, as she fled from the church, a runaway bride. A liar. He could never forget the pain of that moment, no matter how hard he tried. One of the Sheriff's favorite sayings ran through his head, lepers, Gisborne, lepers. Avoid women like lepers. How could he be so wrong and yet so right at the same time? Women did nothing but destroy, but this woman, the Lady Marian, destroyed him in a way that made him feel alive. With all of her betrayals, all of her deceptions, he should have no reason to love her, but that didn't change the fact that he did. Every time she lied to him, he felt like the death sentence had been carried out for all the crimes he had committed. He deserved it; it felt justified. Today she had given him a way to redeem himself and to have everything he ever wanted. Kill the Sheriff, and she would speak for him before the king. The king would pardon him and even reward him for saving his life from the Sheriff's scheme, then Marian would reward him with her willing hand in marriage. He would have both power and the woman he loved by his side. Guy paced the room, his racing thoughts overflowing into physical energy. What if it all goes wrong? So much could. Even as he contemplated these things, he was in the Holy Land to kill the king. It seemed like a simple choice, kill the Sheriff and win Marian or kill the king and win power, but it was much more complicated. What if he killed the Sheriff and Marian turned on him? Then he would have nothing. No power, no position, and no one to care for him. Not that the Sheriff actually cared about him, but he had showed him the way to greatness. The Sheriff was his only sure ticket to glory and renown, and he was not about to give that up. Guy could just as easily take out the king and force Marian to marry him. She didn't really want him anyway, he knew that, so it would be against her will either way. She would learn to love him; there were times when he thought he saw compassion for him in her blue eyes. Yes. That is what he would do. Robin Hood, one of the only people who had ever openly defied him, was dead; no one would come to take Marian away from him. Kill the king, make the Sheriff proud, marry the perfect girl. A good plan, and she would learn to love him.

"Gisborne!" The Sheriff's voice grated on his nerves, but he walked obediently up the stairs to see what he wanted. He couldn't shake the thought of how easily he could run the Sheriff through and be rid of him. He could give Marian another chance; she seemed so desperate. A plan was already in action to take out the king, but Guy could stop it. If he would just kill the Sheriff, then he could warn the king about the plot on his life. But why would the king believe him? Surely it would come out that he had come to the Holy Land to end his life before; Marian could tell him, then she would be rid of Guy forever.

He reached the top of the stairs and found the Sheriff sitting at the table talking to a Saracen man. "You called?"

"Gisborne, where have you been? We have a visitor."

"I was-"

"Do I care?" he made that disgusting face that said, 'A clue: no' and Guy almost drew his sword and ended it right then, but he held himself back like he always did, knowing that he would immediately regret any rash decisions.

The Sheriff turned back to his guest. "Mister Beena-"

"It's Dima." The man couldn't keep his disdain for the Sheriff out of his voice, or maybe he just didn't care.

"Whatever. As I was saying, our friend here was about to give us some news."

Guy nodded and rested his left hand on his sword hilt. The Saracen looked from him to his sword, then turned his attention back to the Sheriff and said, "I was bidden to tell you that Robin Hood still lives."

Sir Guy's right hand involuntarily wrapped around his weapon; the anger rising in him gave an intensity to his voice, "Robin Hood? Not possible."

"He's here in Acre with his men, looking for the king."

The Sheriff banged his fist on the table. "HOOD? Why will he never stay dead? My messenger is already speaking to the king, but if Hood gets to him he could cause problems." he crossed the room until he stood toe to toe with Guy, as he all too often did, and yelled in his face at the top of his lungs. "Saddle our horses Gisborne, we're going to find Robin Hood!"

Guy turned his face away from the putrid odor issuing from the Sheriff's mouth. "What of Marian, my lord?"

The Sheriff looked disgusted and flicked his hand in Guy's direction, "I suppose she'll have to ride with you."

"Very well." As Sir Guy strode from the room, the side of his mouth curved up in a smile at the thought of riding through the desert with Marian in the saddle behind him, her arms wrapped around his middle, but his usual scowl returned when his mind's eye saw her face, her eyes closed against tears. She wanted to be here in the Holy Land even less than he did; she belonged in England. He hadn't wanted her to get involved, but she was too strong-headed for her own good. If only she hadn't tried to kill the Sheriff. What was she thinking anyway, attempting a thing like that on her own? He had hated giving away her secret, especially since she had promised to cease the Night Watchman operation, but she had made an attempt on the Sheriff's life and now he knew what she was capable of.

Guy arrived at the stable and began to saddle the horses, gingerly running his hands over their silky coats and stroking their velvet noses. He had never been particularly good with animals, dogs growled at him; cats hissed and spat, but horses were a different story, they seemed to understand him. They held such majesty and power coupled with beauty and grace beyond measure, he couldn't help thinking of himself and Marian. What a match they would be, when Prince John took the throne and Sir Guy's many services were repaid: he, Lord of wherever he wished with incomparable power and the respect of all, and she, with her regal elegance and pure, compassionate heart. Guy saw horses as an embodiment of his life's goal.

Could he risk throwing that away for a better standing in Marian's eyes? Would it even make her see him in a better light? He could do it. He could kill the Sheriff; finally be free of him. Oh, to never again have to look into those hateful eyes and say, "my lord," to never again have to endure the horrible breath or the ranting and raving of that cruel, insufferable lunatic, to live without the constant fear that he would finally fail one time too many and the Sheriff would replace him. He held the thought in his mind for a bit, toying with it, imagining the look on the Sheriff's face as he realized his end had come, but he knew he could never really do it. And for the first time in a long time, he admitted to himself why: he was afraid. He feared an unknown future and being left completely alone and without direction. He held to the Sheriff, not simply because he was his path to power, but because he needed him. The Sheriff gave him a place to belong, and he couldn't trust Marian to provide that if he heeded her request. He hated the Sheriff more than anyone else, even Robin Hood, but apart from him Guy was nothing. He dreaded life without him just as much as he ached for it.

Sir Guy placed his head alongside the face of his black mare, Ira, and closed his eyes to block out the world, but his mind kept racing. He was tired, so tired. Tired of being the pawn that he tried to convince himself he wasn't, but he saw no way out. In the back of his mind, he had always felt that sense of foreboding, but now he identified it as the weakness it was; now he understood that no matter how much control he possessed over others, he would remain weak as long as the Sheriff controlled him.

The horses now saddled, Guy returned to the main house and headed to the Sheriff's room. The slimy excuse for a human being stood at his dresser with his back to the doorway. It's now or never Gisborne, Guy thought to himself, and he stepped into the room with his hand on the hilt of his sword. A crippling fear struck him in the pit of his stomach as all of his old doubts began to creep back into his mind, but he shoved them aside and focused on Marian's promise. He still could not be sure whether or not she would go through with it, but he could no longer abide life as a puppet of the Sheriff's will, and he would give Marian one last chance.

"Are the horses saddled, Gisborne?" The Sheriff didn't even turn around. Guy wanted him to turn around, he wanted to see the monster's face when he died, but he knew better than to let him gain the upper hand, so he drew his sword and swung it down toward the Sheriff's neck in one stroke. Suddenly, he was looking into his eyes with his sword pointing at the ground and the Sheriff's dagger at his throat. The snake had been expecting this. "Did you really think I would not be prepared for a stunt like this? What with all the time you've been spending with your lady leper friend, you didn't think I would figure out what she wanted from you? Well let me tell you something: I WILL NOT TOLERATE DISLOYALTY!" He punctuated his statement with a fist to Guy's stomach that made him drop his sword.

The knife began to press harder, and Sir Guy felt blood trickle down his neck. He squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head away from the pain. A sudden crash from the other room gave Guy the split second he needed to bring his arm up and swat away the Sheriff's dagger arm, but it was followed by a scream that made his blood run cold. Guy pushed aside the terror of what might be happening in the next room and pressed his advantage. He lunged for the Sheriff with his bare hands and landed on the floor, straddling his opponent, with his long fingers wrapped around the vile creature's neck.

"Gisborne-" he choked, "please-" His arms were alternating from clutching Guy's forearms to flailing about, but nothing he did would reduce Guy's grip. As often as Sir Guy had thought about this moment and gone over and over what he would say, he found that he had no words for his soon-to-be former mentor. Rage alone filled his mind and all of the times the Sheriff had ever hit him, humiliated him, mocked him, and made him feel like nothing. The flow of memories was cut short by a searing pain in his right shoulder. As he cried out and instinctively recoiled, he looked down to see that somewhere in his flailing, the Sheriff's left hand had alighted upon his dagger, which was now embedded in his body, between his collarbone and his right shoulder.

He rolled to the side, staggered to his feet, and stumbled over to his sword. The Sheriff still lay on the ground struggling to rise. Guy had been so close, and now he would finish it. The Sheriff regained his feet and leaned against the wall just as Guy picked up his sword in his left hand. "Gisborne," he wheezed, "you don't want to do this. I love you like a son, and you loved me like a father once. Remember that, and don't do this."

Guy remembered the time when the Sheriff first took him in, before he had known about the venom in his heart. Guy had loved him, but those days were long since passed. "You never loved me."

"Oh, but I did. Who took care of you when no one else would? Who nurtured you and strengthened your natural talents? Think about your life, your future. What would you be without me?"

"Free." Guy leveled his sword at the Sheriff's heart and ran the foul man through. Never again would he have to endure the heavy hand, the detestable schemes, or the spiteful jeering of that villainous snake. He felt as though someone had released him from prison, and through the pain of his wound and the fear of a future he could not see, he smiled. He almost couldn't believe what he had just done. Then he remembered hearing Marian scream. His heartbeat quickened, and he bolted from the room.