Quintessence of Life: Mysteries Unveiled

by Athenais Penelope Clemence

Sheriff Vaisey, Guy, and others travel to the Holy Land to assassinate King Richard. The head-spinning events happen in Acre, the dark mysteries of the past are unmasked, and dramatic reconciliation is achieved. But the fight is not over, and the Black Knights have a trump card up their sleeve. This is part two of the long epic (trilogy).

2. Chapter 1 Checkmate

Chapter 1

Checkmate

To court his bride for decency's sake and for entertainment, Robin of Locksley invited Lady Melisende Plantagenet on the ride along the seacoast. Surrounded by ten guards, Robin and Melisende guided their white stallions through the yellow sandy dunes, moving in the direction of the shore.

A squad of the king's guards was escorting Melisende and Robin on their ride. Neither Melisende nor Robin liked the idea of being accompanied and watched by so many guards, but they could do nothing because King Richard wanted them to be always protected. Robin would have never risked making the king angry, especially by foolishly exposing the king's cousin to various dangers and threats in the Holy Land.

Robin immensely enjoyed their ride. It was the time of the day when the blazing orange sun was just sinking below the dark line of the horizon. He loved this melancholic hour when the sun departed from one world to another and the daytime noises died away one by one. The water in the sea became smooth as glass, and the sky put on fabulous, warm colors of orange and red. It was always a particularly melancholic and precious time for Robin, but tonight there was something unusual, almost enchanting about it, something out of the ordinary; maybe it was so because he was not alone on his ride tonight, he mused.

A contented Robin looked at Melisende, and a smile lit up his face; she was beautiful, in her orange gown with a low neckline and airy sleeves, which perfectly matched her long, copper-colored hair. The last rays of sunset were gleaming on the surface of the water. Melisende's red-gold hair shone like sunset clouds, and the rays of the sinking sun sparkled on the golden embroidery of her orange gown.

"I am glad that you took the life of Robert de Sablé," Melisende said sincerely, looking at him as they rode next to one another. "He deserved to die for his crimes exactly in the way you killed him."

Robin was amazed. "You approve that I beheaded him in a fit of anger?"

She smiled and nodded at him. "I do support what you did."

He waggled a brow. "Really?"

"Yes," she confirmed. "Grand Master de Sablé was a despicable traitor who tried to kill Richard and you! He deserved a brutal, cruel death!" Her smile lost none of its warmth at her last words; she wasn't terrified of his actions and didn't accuse him of being cruel and bloodthirsty – instead she understood him. "Thanks be to God that you were unscratched in the fight with that traitor."

Robin's face split in a mischievous grin. "You are concerned about my fate, Melisende?"

"I don't wish my betrothed to be killed by a foul traitor."

"I think you are lying now. You are scared to lose me," he stated straightforwardly.

She quibbled, "Fear of death is one thing. Politics and political unions are different things."

"What exactly do you want to say?"

Melisende looked into the distance, considering what to reply. She looked to the right, her eyes taking in the sandy dunes that were shining in the rays of the setting sun. "Our marriage is a gift of loyalty to Richard, from our hearts, and I am conscious of how worthy it is. I hope our union will bring peace to my county and relief to Richard, for our marriage will ensure the loyalty of many nobles to him."

Robin's laugh held real amusement. "I begin to think that it will be good to ask our beloved king to do something with you! You are a great liar if you want to lie!"

She glanced back at him and scoffed. "You think I am lying?"

"Of course," he spelled out slowly. "I know that you are concerned about my fate."

"Perhaps." She smiled enigmatically.

"Not perhaps – for sure," Robin said insistently.

Melisende smiled at Robin enticingly. "Why are you marrying me?" She looked at her right hand, her eyes taking in the gorgeous diamond three-stone framed ring set with a round diamond center stone and bezel-set side stones surrounded with five small amethysts. She loved her engagement ring which Robin had given her when he had proposed to her about three months ago.

Despite his doubts about his marriage to Melisende, Robin suddenly felt that his life became simple. He had already said farewell to his old life when he had proposed to Melisende. The old world was filled with memories about Marian's betrayal and his shattered dreams, and it could offer him nothing but a narrow, limited existence and an endless, unbearable pain. An unearthly lightness suffused his heart, and he found himself overwhelmed with the sense of release that often comes when a difficult decision is made. Robin wondered whether it was an ephemeral feeling, and the thought blazed upon him, luminous and terrifying, like a flash of lightning in a serene sky – he didn't want to lose that lightness and calm.

Robin raised a quizzical eyebrow. "And why should I not want to marry you?"

She opened her mouth, but no sound came out, as if she wanted to say something but decided against that. Then she shook her head. "Oh, I see. Out of loyalty to Richard."

Robin frowned slightly. "I am surprised that you think so. You have many great qualities that make you a valuable match for everyone. You are a dream bride."

She broke into a sarcastic tirade, although she knew that he wouldn't like it. "Ah, I have forgotten some important things! What a fool I am!" she exclaimed. "I am King Richard's cousin and a Plantagenet by birth. And my husband will become Count de Bordeaux through his marriage to me; he will also receive many lands and manors," she said sarcastically. She knew that it was not in Robin's character to do something for his own advantage, but she liked challenging him and teasing him.

"I thought that you know: Robin Hood doesn't need money and titles for happiness."

"Oh, indeed. I am sorry."

He arched a brow. "You don't cease amusing me, Lady Melisende."

"I am glad to hear that."

Robin eyed her sternly. "If you don't want to marry me, then tell me about that."

"Do all people marry whom they like?" She chuckled. "I am the king's cousin, and I cannot decide on my marriage. Everything personal always comes hand-in-hand with political in my life."

Gazing into the distance, Robin watched twittering seabirds flying over the blue water tinged with orange and red, enjoying the picture of the fragile peace. "King Richard loves you. He will never force you to marry an unworthy man or a man whom you detest and dislike, even if he needs this marriage for England."

"You are wrong. You idealize Richard," Melisende objected. "Richard is my cousin and he loves me, but he is the King of England in the first place. He will make me marry anyone if it suits England's interests and him. My personal interests and wishes go behind Richard's political needs."

"Lady Melisende, our king loves you very much, like he loves Princess Joan."

Melisende looked away. For all the beauty of the evening, her heart felt heavy, lonely, and sad. She never objected marrying Robin, but she believed that he had never wanted their marriage. "Anyway, Richard wants me to marry you, Huntingdon. He made it pretty clear to me several months ago. I don't want to disappoint him, and I will obey Richard, my cousin and my sovereign."

"You will obey? Is it the only reason why you agreed to marry me?"

"We don't want to disappoint the king because you and I love him a lot."

"I love King Richard as my king and friend, but my deep affection for him will not prevent me from breaking our betrothal if you are forced into matrimony with me."

She shook her head. "I assure you that I am being not forced."

Robin tightened the reins and rode to Melisende. As he reached her, she stopped her horse and looked at him with amusement. "My lady, if you don't want to marry me, tell Richard about it. He will listen to you, and if he doesn't want to listen, I will make him listen."

Melisende pondered over her response and decided to be truthful. "I thought that my cousin would order me to marry the Earl of Leicester, but I don't mind being married to you, Huntingdon."

"Heavens!" Robin exclaimed, as if speaking to himself in a fit of intense grief. "Finally, I know the truth about your secret desires. If you want to be Leicester's wife, I will help you."

She felt hear rise to her cheeks. "No, I don't want to marry the Earl of Leicester. I pray you, milord, won't say anything else on the matter. Richard wants us to marry, I consented, and you don't object."

Robin smiled with his most charming smile. "As you wish." He nodded slightly, his finger tracing, almost tenderly, the reins. "But I want you to know that I wouldn't have married you for all the riches of the world and even out of my loyalty to my liege if I myself hadn't wanted that."

"Really?" she inquired, instinctively keeping her voice low.

"Yes," he replied briskly.

"That's an unexpected statement. I am amazed, my dear Earl of Huntingdon."

He dimpled and then revealed a full smile. "You should not be, my precious Countess de Bordeaux."

Robin urged his horse forward, and Melisende followed suit. The guards were not far from them, clustered around the betrothed couple – their captain and the king's cousin. They continued riding along the coastline, looking at a chain of islands colored light orange and amethyst in the rays of the sinking sun.

"You don't have to court me, Lord Huntingdon," Melisende remarked coolly, with a touch of sneer.

Robin smiled a little sadly. "I thought that we agreed that you would call me Robin. Or do you dislike my name so much that you cannot even pronounce it?"

"Yes, we agreed." She smiled. "And I like your name."

"Then why aren't you doing that?"

"To tease you, Robin."

He chuckled. "Ah, I see, I see."

She spurred on her horse and began to descend a sandy hill. "Huntingdon, don't pretend that you want to marry me and are willingly courting me. You are doing this because it would be better for your reputation."

"Our reputation, my lady," Robin pointed out, his tone formal.

Melisende began to laugh. "Well, if you are courting me with such pleasure, Lord Huntingdon, then carry me off to the ends of the world." She burst into laughing. "We will love one another till our dying day. I will give you sons as brave and impudent as you; I will give you daughters as witty and beautiful as me. I will love you so much! Marry me tomorrow, if not right now, and let's run away from Acre!"

He grinned wickedly at her. "Yeah, you want to mock me and what I am doing, but your eyes don't cease to speak a language different from the language of your lips."

She laughed aloud, her melodic laughter, with French notes, ringing in the hot air. He was secretly pleased that she had some affection for him. Their marriage was an arranged union, but at least they were not disgusted with the mere sight of each other; on the contrary, they were attracted to one another.

"I am saying absurd things, right? Such madness! Pure madness! Maybe it is the sun that made me lose my sanity?" She looked away, at the sea.

Robin's eyes twinkled in mischief. He knew that she was embarrassed, but she managed to mask her true feelings so well. Their unforgettable encounters, with their official pomposity in public and their bickering and teasing in privacy entertained Robin very much.

"If I asked you to give me proof of some affection you have for me, would you tell me the truth?"

"Oh, no! I cannot possess affection for a braggart like you!" she cried out with feigned offence. "Pray keep yourself hoping for my affection, milord, but be aware that my heart is too small to accommodate any feeling for a man like you – a great hero with a big ego."

The sky deepened to mauve, and Robin watched boats move sedately out the harbor of Acre towards the open sea, like a stately procession crowned with a snatch of song borne on the freshening breeze.

Robin laughed breezily. "God help any man who falls in love with you, Lady Melisende. He would have to deal with a beautiful woman with a soul of a lioness," he retorted.

"Oh! I have nothing to wish for in the world. I am satisfied with my life," she said steadily, gazing at the sea. "I have enjoyed in this life all the happiness I am meant for."

"Oh, no, no, my lady!" he cried out mockingly. "Your happiness is a matter of tomorrow and forever. You have a long life ahead."

Melisende looked at Robin, a strange smile on her lips. Suddenly, she spurred on her mount and galloped away, ignoring Robin's cries and pleas to wait for him and the guards. She could see only the seashore and could distinguish the voices of Robin and the guards far away.

"If you continue demonstrating your foolish headstrongness, I will forbid you from riding as soon as we are married," she heard the familiar voice speak harshly beside her. It was Robin's voice.

Melisende turned her head, and her eyes met Robin's cold gaze. "Great God! You are already here!" She looked around and saw the guards quickly catching up with them.

"Yes, I am here; the guards are almost here. It wasn't difficult to find you."

"Oh, there is nothing difficult for Robin Hood," she teased him.

His expression turned cold at the sight of her smug face. "Not a long time ago, King Richard ordered me to never leave the camp alone in order not to become an unfortunate victim of our enemies. It may be dangerous here, and I will never let you get yourself killed in the desert."

She grinned at him. "When did you stop disregarding Richard's orders, Robin? I have heard a lot about your behavior in the private guard – you often change decisions, suddenly and arbitrarily. And you are one of the few knights who can go against Richard's orders."

Robin laughed. "I see you know so much about me."

"You could have been executed for insubordination many more times than I have hair on my head."

"Well, but I am still alive," he said with an arrogant smile. "I am Robin Hood!"

She rolled her eyes at him. "Oh, you are very arrogant! But I will correct you – because Richard needs you and loves you, not because you are Robin Hood."

"Oh," he breathed. "But you don't know one important thing: I rarely risk myself in vain and when I am not sure that I will survive, unless I have to save the king."

Melisende rode to him and stopped her horse near his. "Robin," she called. She pronounced his name in her softest and most honeyed tones.

A curious Robin looked at her. "What?"

"I didn't want to scare you," she answered in the same gentle and soft tone. "I am sorry."

"You are very gallant, Lady Melisende," he said with a smile on his face.

"You are smiling," she said teasingly. Her voice held a slight touch of flirtation.

"Do you wish me to weep?"

"No, but I want to see you a little more melancholic."

Robin eyed her beautiful face with the infinite sadness in his eyes. "I have been in melancholy for so long. Now I think I may well regard it as a debt discharged." Then his face recovered all his usual liveliness and smugness. "Besides, melancholy makes people look so plain. And I hate looking plain."

She gave him a searching look, but found nothing on his face, only the familiar indifference and coldness in his blue eyes. "You can never look so, Robin."

"Really?" He chuckled.

"Robin, don't angle for compliments and reassurances!"

Robin raised his eyes and looked at the sky, his eyes taking in the large arrow-headed clouds, the canvas darker and darker with every passing minute. "It is time to return to the camp. It is getting dark." He gave her a conspiratorial glance and winked at her. "Let's ride to the camp surrounded by guards, as if they had arrested us and we were heavily guarded on the way to our prison."

An exhilarated Melisende smiled at him. "I like when you are jesting, Robin. Maybe my marriage to you, an impudent cheeky rogue, will be the happiest day of my whole life," she jested.

Robin looked away. He knew that she was trying to entertain them, but he couldn't think about the wedding day; every time he remembered about his upcoming nuptials he felt that the gulf was inexorably widening between him and Marian. He caught a glimpse of disappointment on Melisende's face before her face turned blank, and he felt guilty; it was not her fault, but only his fault.

Robin turned to her with a doleful smile on his face. "I am sorry," he murmured.

"Robin, don't apologize, I beseech you!" Melisende cried out, laughing.

He tightened the reins and set off at a gallop, signaling Melisende and the guards to follow him. They rode so quickly that the thunderous beat of the galloping hoofbeats reminded a battle drum, loud and incessant. Robin heard the cries of the guards behind him, urging him to wait for them, but he ignored them. He saw that Melisende rose near him, their horses moving almost in unison. They rode at the same speed, paying no attention to anyone, until they reached the walls of Acre, heading to the Citadel of Acre where Melisende stayed together with Count Henry de Champagne and his wife Lady Isabella of Jerusalem.

§§§

The sun had already risen and shone merrily, painting the landscape in a generous coat of golden yellow. The sky was like an azure canvas, speckled with soft white clouds that looked like strings of cotton swirling in unusual patterns. An almost palpable uneasiness hung over the town of Nottingham.

Guy of Gisborne and his guards were riding through narrow, dirty streets in the direction of the Castle of Nottingham. Guy could see many beggars standing along the street, many of them abnormally thin, their eyes hungry and desperate. Most of the beggars stood with their arms outstretched, their palms open in an attempt to attract attention of wealthy people who could give them a coin. Some of them offered black market goods or services in exchange for some money. After Robin Hood's departure from Nottingham, the oppression of the population continued and living conditions became almost unbearable.

Riding on his black stallion, Guy eyed the beggars. The miserable picture of the hungry and ragged people tugged at Guy's heartstrings, but he didn't dip his hand into his purse to throw some coins to them. However, he was overwhelmed by self-loathing and self-hatred. His pride kept him from paying attention to the ragged populace. Yet, his expression was openly shocked for an instant; before he masked it with coldness and nonchalance; Allan had managed to see his master's true feelings, and even without verbal interaction with his right-hand man, Guy knew deep down that Allan had guessed his master's real feelings.

Guy heard several beggars whispering his name with apparent disdain; a feeling of self-loathing gripped his throat, and he swallowed hard against it, battling to maintain a cold façade. As soon as Guy and his men reached them, the beggars automatically recoiled from the sheriff's men in undisguised fear, as if Guy and his escort party were lepers. Guy cringed at the thought that his mere appearance had such a frightening effect on the people; earlier he would have been thrilled because if he couldn't earn their respect, then he could make them fear him; however, now only sadness filled his heart.

Gisborne thought of the old days with longing – the time before his and Isabella's banishment from Locksley. He could remember the time when the market had thrived and many peasants had come there to sell the products that their household didn't consume. Now the market was deserted, and trade no longer existed because the peasants had no money to pay taxes and were barely able to feed themselves. More than seven years ago, when Vaisey and Guy had arrived in Nottingham, the market had still thrived and trade had been active. Presently, the economic situation in Nottingham was radically different.

Guy admitted reluctantly that Robin of Locksley had been right that taxes must have been eliminated to improve the living conditions of the peasants and to boost the economy of the town. Two years ago, Guy had laughed at the ideas of his sworn enemy. Yet, now he was ready to agree with Robin: if there was at least some hope for a brighter future for the people, taxes must have been significantly lowered for a while.

They rode through another narrow street when Guy raised his head and looked up at the sky, but could see little of it. Dilapidated buildings to either side of the street leaned together so that they almost blocked out the sunlight. It was probably for the best, Guy decided bitterly, for his mood was grim, and he was unable to think about anything bright and happy. Moreover, streets were full of garbage because the sheriff didn't allocate enough funds to cover expenses of its transportation from the town to the suburbs; there was a risk that too much direct sun would make garbage stink worse than it had already done.

As they turned to a nearby street, the picture before their eyes drew gasps of amazement from Guy, Allan, and the guards. There was the crowd of beggars that blocked the road as the people slowly moved towards the central square. There were children in the throng; they were weeping and asking their parents for bread.

Guy shuddered in horror mingled with disgust. He could see a thin boy who was sitting on the shoulders of his father, crying and begging his father to give them a piece of bread. He watched several mothers crouch in the mud, grab their children, and hastily free the road for him and his men.

There was a bard in the crowd, who was singing a song about Robin Hood and his band, honoring the outlaws and imploring them to return to Nottingham. The sound of Robin Hood's name awakened a sheer hatred in Guy's heart, and his stomach twisted in knots, but the same feeling was quickly replaced by disgust for himself and hatred for Vaisey whose brutal authority was the reason for famine in the town.

Guy knew that these people hated him, and it made him ashamed of himself. Robin Hood wasn't in Nottingham and couldn't save anyone, but what mattered was that of the number of cripples, thieves, and beggars almost doubled since Robin's departure. At that moment, he nearly wished that Hood returned and started feeding the populace again; he was also relieved that the peasants who lived on the lands owned by Robin were able to enjoy the tax grace period of a year, which infuriated Vaisey.

"Make way for Sir Guy of Gisborne!" Allan commanded.

One of the beggars broke into a loud laughter. Without caring for Allan's words, he shouted boldly, "And maybe Guy of Gisborne will help his countrymen survive?"

A hush fell over the crowd. And then someone began to whine in a doleful way, half closing his eyes and begging for money. "Charity, please, Sir Guy! Money, please! Help us!"

The shouts of the beggars made Guy shudder inwardly; he was utterly shocked and highly displeased. Upon recovering from his first stupefaction, he planned to order to arrest the beggars and stared at Allan with cold, resolute eyes, but then something snapped in his heart. Instead, his hand touched his purse that hung on his waist; he pulled the reins, reached Allan, and gave him the purse.

"Allan, take this purse and give the coins to these people," Guy instructed quietly. "Do that when the guards and I will leave. The sheriff shouldn't know about that." As he said that, feelings of joy and triumph stirred somewhere in the depths of his heart, but they were mingled with bitterness, for he couldn't do that openly in fear that Vaisey would learn about the sudden weakness of his heart.

Allan winked at Guy. "Certainly, I will do that with great please."

Guy nodded and pulled the reins, setting his horse in motion. "Make way for me and my men! Make way for us!" He gave his men commands to clear the road if the crowd didn't disperse. Then, without casting a glance at the beggars, he spurred on his black stallion and rode away, followed by his guards.

Allan didn't follow Guy and the others. Instead, he dismounted and started distributing the coins from the purse, enjoying the looks of shock and astonishment on the people's faces.

A hush fell over the crowd as they heard the sounds of approaching horses. In the next moment, Roger de Lacy and his men emerged from a nearby street; the cart full of bread and more food was driven by an old horse. De Lacy's men dismounted and started distributing the food to the townspeople; they also distributed coins and fresh water. Meanwhile, the mob applauded with shouts of laughter.

Allan decided that it was a good time to disappear and ride to the castle. He had already distributed the coins Guy had given him, and he couldn't stay there more, for Guy was waiting for him in the castle. Roger de Lacy eyed Allan suspiciously, his gaze revealing amazement at the sight of the empty purse in Allan's hands. Allan saluted to de Lacy and then set his horse in a full gallop, heading to the castle.

Meanwhile, Guy was already having a private audience with Sheriff Vaisey. Guy stood near the desk and watched Vaisey pacing the chamber back and forth, the sheriff's hands clutching an unrolled parchment. At last, Vaisey paused near the window and threw open the wooden shutters, looking out. As the study was located in the tower, Vaisey saw the central courtyard and the whole town very well.

Guy watched the sheriff, trying to guess the reasons for his master's unexpected anxiety. In the past few days, Vaisey was unusually contemplative and thoughtful. The sheriff often summoned Guy to the study and asked him trivial questions about the collection of taxes in Nottinghamshire. With a sickening feeling of dread mingled with apprehension, Guy thought that Vaisey's calm demeanor was strange; today everything changed, and calmness was supplanted by tense anxiety.

Vaisey's small figure in black looked especially unusual against the whitewashed walls adorned with flower engravings, the sheriff's recent innovation he introduced to better the chamber for his caged birds, as he jested. Guy barely suppressed a sneer, for the sheriff had a strange attitude towards his birds.

The sheriff turned slowly to his henchman. His eyes were evil and perverted, and the grin was even worse – it was horribly fiendish. Then his countenance softened, and he smiled with a touch of warmth. "Gisborne, I care for you, my boy," he began in a strangely silken tone. "I want us to be together, in a fruitful, life-long partnership. I want to give you power beyond measure." He slowly walked to Guy. He stared at the raven-haired younger man for a long moment in silence; then he put his hands on Guy's shoulders. "We will win this game together. We will always be together, like a father and a son."

Guy was put off by the intensity of Vaisey's gaze. The sheriff's eyes were ablaze with hellish fire, and Guy felt as if he were burning in hell at those agonizing moments. The heat emanating from the sheriff nearly burned the black leather of his jacket, and Guy took a step back from his master.

"Yes, my lord," the words came out with effort.

Feverish despair swept over Guy at the thought that the sheriff was preparing for something utterly important for the future. Guy felt pinned to the ground with shock at the realization that Vaisey's calmness he had seen in the past days and his today's anxiety could be explained by the fact that Vaisey's cunning mind was inventing a Machiavellian plan to kill King Richard and Robin Hood. A growl almost ripped from his throat at the thought that they were probably supposed to travel to the Holy Land again.

The sheriff grinned portentously. "Gisborne, my boy, time of our victory is coming. We are departing to the Holy Land soon," he announced bluntly. "You and Allan are going with me."

A shaken Guy gasped as mortal terror filled his heart. He feared to go to Acre and face Robin Hood. He was terrified that they would fail to assassinate the king. He feared that he would be unable to kill the king. Guy felt as if he were drowning in a sea of despair. Amusingly, he also didn't want to kill the king, but he was like a wild animal trapped by the sheriff in a golden cage.

Having regained his composure, Guy only blinked as if in surprise. "Did the Hashashin fail to kill King Richard and Robin Hood?" He doubted that it had happened, especially when he remembered that Prince John's current mistress – Lady Amicia de Beaumont – was King Richard's secret spy.

The sheriff took a step back, his eyes raking over Guy's leather-clad form. He knew that such perusal always made Guy feel uncomfortable, and he enjoyed such moments. "We don't know anything, but Prince John wants us to travel to the Holy Land. The prince fears that Hood will stop the Hashashin, and so he wants us to go to Acre and kill his brother." He sniggered. "Well, Hood was heroic in the recent bloody battle with the army of Saracens hired by the Black Knights."

The brows of a confused Guy shot up in surprise. "What?"

Vaisey's expression changed instantly, evolving into malice. "Our friends – Buckingham, Rotherham, Durham, and Spenser – had a long and disastrous journey to the Holy Land. They organized a massacre in the king's camp several months ago," he informed. "That's why we didn't see them for many months."

"The last meeting of the Black Knights took place six months ago – in December in London," Guy said, struggling to put the notes of displeasure out of his voice. "As now it is May, they should have left for Acre immediately after the meeting, if they have already returned to England."

"They departed to Acre in two days after the meeting."

"Prince John didn't tell us about that." Guy didn't like that he knew nothing about the matter.

"I knew that, and it is enough, my boy."

Guy inwardly seethed with anger. "I didn't know."

Vaisey answered, "Don't be offended, my boy! I told you nothing because I knew that they would fail; Lord Sheridan said the same. We told Prince John that it was a bad idea, but he didn't listen." He sniggered. "The prince wanted the Lionheart to be known as the massacred Weaklingheart, the massacred king."

"Did they come close to the camp?"

The sheriff sauntered to his favorite oversized, handsomely crafted chair at the desk and seated himself there. "They did, but only thanks to the chaos in the camp and the treachery of three Crusaders. Well, you remember them from last time, Gisborne. All of them stood near the king and almost killed him, but Hood, Blondie, Leicester, and Hood's annoying manservant interfered and saved the king."

"Now I understand why Prince John demands more and more taxes."

"Exactly, Gizzy! It is expensive to hire an army of Saracen mercenaries."

"What happened in Acre?" Guy still stood near the desk because Vaisey didn't permit him to seat down.

With a large and malevolent smile on his face, Vaisey proceeded to a long tale about the massacre in the king's camp. "Oh, it was a charming massacre, Gizzy! The battle was inside the king's tent and later near the tent that was surrounded by the Crusaders to protect the Lionheart." He laughed venomously, his eyes were crinkled and his mouth was stretched wide as he pictured the carnage. "Mmmm… Spenser complained that they stood waist-deep in blood. But I think that it was… very good that many of the king's men choked on their own blood." He loved bloodshed, and his wicked heart pounded harder as he imagined the massacre.

Guy flinched inwardly in spite of the friendly smile he showed to his master. "Are they still alive?"

Vaisey released a sigh. "Lord Durham and Lord Buckingham were unscratched. Lord Spenser was injured by Hood; on the way from Acre, he was feverish for… about two weeks, I don't know for sure how long," he informed. "Lord Rotherham was seriously injured by another Crusader, in his side or his chest. He contracted a fever and lost much blood, and he was in such a bad shape that our friends feared that he would die. Buckingham and Durham nursed Rotherham as a child throughout all the three months they spent on a ship; they took a direct route from Acre to Portsmouth through the Pillars of Hercules."

"Did Rotherham survive, my lord?"

"Yes, he did. Now Rotherham is in one of his estates. He is still recovering and has problems… with his lungs; - his right lung was breached. He must stay bedridden for a while."

"Well, it looks like Rotherham's wound was really serious."

The sheriff's eyes glistened with sheer malice and rancorous joy. "I would love to see how our… pretty friend, our dear Robin Hood, behaved in the massacre. Lord Spenser adored Hood's swordplay and said that our little… Our dear forest boy was exceptional and killed everyone on his way."

Guy didn't wish to talk about Hood. "But they failed."

"Yes, Gisborne! And now we will carry out our plan! Isn't it good, hmm?" Vaisey grinned merrily. "We will kill the lion and will make Prince John happy and grateful."

"Yes, my lord," Guy said automatically.

"But there is one problem."

"What, my lord?"

A scowl crossed Vaisey's face. "Prince John also wants us to take his personal assassin to Acre. He will be on the mission to kill King Richard and Robin Hood." He gave a derisive snort. "The assassin has such a funny name! Archer! Archer!" He broke into a loud laugh. "He will join us in Portsmouth."

"We don't need him," Guy claimed.

"We cannot disregard Prince John's order," the sheriff declared sadly, his mind plotting. "But we will kill King Richard without anybody's help. And you, my boy, should concentrate and help me kill the king. This assassin, Archer, must be left out of our business, although we are taking him with us because it is Prince John's order." He clapped his hands. "Soon the lion shall roar in pain! His blood will be hot and stick on my hands! The lion's blood and pain will bring us our great fortune."

The sheriff's henchman flushed to the roots of his black hair. "Our fortune?"

Vaisey rose to his feet and leaned closer to Guy. He whispered, their eyes locked, "Gisborne, focus on your fortune and on vengeance. You lost Hood's lands, and now you have more compelling reasons to fight for the king's death and avenge your dispossession."

"Yes, milord," Guy acquiesced with a disgruntled nod.

The sheriff smiled. He reclined in his chair without taking his eyes off Guy. "Gizzy, I want us to kill the pitiful King Richard together. We will glorify the day when the king is dead."

Guy swallowed hard. "As you wish, my lord." A ball of anxiety was growing in the pit of his stomach. His mind raced through the implications of the news: he would have to leave Marian in England and would have to lie to her, for he didn't want her to know that he would be implicated in a new plot against the king.

§§§

Disguised as the Nightwatchman, Marian mounted the staircase and walked along the upper gallery towards her bedchamber, where she intended to hide herself from the sheriff's guards. She could hardly breathe after several exhausting minutes when she had been running like a hunted deer. Her heart was pounding like a hammer, and its violent beats threatened to fracture her ribcage. She had never been more frightened in her whole life. She looked around and let out a sigh of relief as there were no guards there. She turned round the corner and made her way through the long corridor towards her and Guy's room.

Suddenly, Marian heard footsteps behind her but decided not to turn around. She rushed forward, but stumbled into three guards, who were confused at first and then gave an exclamation of surprise, followed by a cry of delight at the realization that they had found the Nightwatchman. The guards grabbed her, and she struggled to free herself from their grip but to no avail. Marian wanted to make use of her fighting skills, and as their grip on her suddenly slackened, she kicked out one of them into the belly, but two more guards threw themselves at her. She started struggling more vigorously, beating and punching the guards, but she was not able to get rid of them as the sheriff's men held her immobilized her by grabbing both of her legs.

"We have found the Nightwatchman! We found him!" the overjoyed guards chorused.

A scared Marian broke into a tirade of cursing in her mind. Less than an hour ago, she had tried to save the villagers who had been arrested by Vaisey and Gisborne after the recent fight in the central courtyard in Nottingham. Breaking her word to Guy, she had disguised herself as the Nightwatchman and had sneaked into the dungeons to try to free the villagers. Marian desperately wished to save the people from the terrible fate – to be sold to Finn MacMurrough, a rude Irishman who wanted to recruit men into his army and to compel them to fight for the freedom of Ireland, so that he himself could rule Ireland.

On the way upstairs, Marian had been discovered by Allan who had advised her to escape as quickly as her legs carried her. Unfortunately, the worst had happened: one of the sheriff's guards had roared that they had found the Nightwatchman and had commanded the guards to purse the legendary night hero. The guards had surrounded her in the dungeons, but Marian had fought fiercely with them and had managed to flee. She had successfully made her way to the castle and had begun to climb upstairs and when she had been spotted by several more guards. Now she was surrounded and trapped.

"Silence! Silence!" Guy thundered as he appeared in the corridor and rushed to the Nightwatchman like a leopard determined to catch its prey. He stopped beside the Nightwatchman and the guards. He turned away from Marian and looked at the three guards who stood confused, staring with wide eyes at their captain in anticipation to hear their master's orders.

Marian's eyes locked with Guy's eyes darkened with anger; she turned her head and met Allan's horror-stricken gaze. Her heart was beating so fast that she thought it would explode in her chest.

"Sir Guy, we have detained the criminal," one of the guards boasted. "Let's see who he is."

"Should we take him to the dungeons?" another guard asked.

Another laughing guard snickered. "Let's unmask this night hero!"

The man's hands reached behind Marian's ears and unsnapped the fastenings of her mask. As the mask fell to the ground revealing the beautiful woman's face, the guards all gasped in shock. None of them were laughing anymore. The guards stared at the Nightwatchman in horror as they recognized Guy's wife.

"Guy!" a terrified Marian cried out. Mortal dread was slowly creeping into her consciousness.

"Sir Guy…" The young guard looked horrified.

"Sir Guy, this is… Lady Marian…" another guard stammered.

"Blimey," Allan muttered, his face going deathly pale.

Guy looked between the shocked Marian and the astonished faces of his guards. "You stay here," he said to the guards, his eyes darting to Allan. "Allan, take her to our room and wait there," he ordered.

A shocked Allan nodded in agreement. Marian felt Guy's strong arms wrap around her waist. Guy lifted her and passed her to Allan. Then Allan began dragging Marian away. As Marian looked back, a wave of shock flowing over her: she saw Guy plunging his curved dagger into the neck of one guard, into the stomach of the second one, and then into the chest of the third guard. She heard their groans and screams of horror at the realization that their master had become their murderer.

"What… what is he doing?" Marian could barely speak.

"He is saving you, Marian," Allan muttered under his breath.

"Oh my Lord!" Marian gasped in horror. The realization dawned upon her that the situation impelled Guy to desperate measures – to kill his own men keep the true identity of the Nightwatchman confidential. He had once told her that he would kill anyone for her, but she hadn't believed him back then.

Allan carried Marian to her and Guy's bedchamber as if she were a sack of corn. She didn't resist at all and was so silent that he thought she had passed out from the shock. Allan opened the door with his feet and came in. He crossed the room and gently put Marian on the bed.

Meanwhile, Guy stood over the bodies of three guards, staring at them with distressed eyes, the bloodied dagger clasped in his hand. In the sunlight, the blood-red steel seemed to have transmuted into some otherworldly ruby alloy. Three scarlet corpses lay at his feet, and a pool of blood gleamed dark-red beneath the bodies; the men's uniforms were soaked with blood. Guy shook his head in disbelief that he had just killed his own men! A panic rose in him as he heard footsteps in a nearby corridor, which set him into motion. He had to leave the place of the crime. He moved like a fury as he strode towards their bedchamber.

The door flung open, and Guy entered, pointing at his wife threateningly. Three strides took him to the bed, and he was already beside Allan, whose face was still pale and shocked. Guy toast on the edge next to Marian and started undressing her. Marian's cheeks flamed darkly at the naked anger in her husband's face.

"Turn around! Don't look at her!" Guy screamed at Allan who hurriedly obeyed.

"Guy, please… Guy…" Marian begged him, struggling with him.

Guy growled, "Stop fighting with me!"

"Please… please…" Marian entreated as despair crushed her. She didn't even think of what she wanted to ask him – whether she beseeched him not to be angry at her or whether she was begging his forgiveness.

When he finished undressing her, Guy threw the Nightwatchman's costume in Allan's direction. "Allan, disguise yourself and play your role well. You know what to do."

Allan looked startled. "Guy, do you want me to stage the Nightwatchman's escape?"

"Yes, Allan, that's what we have to do. Please hurry up; we don't have time left," Guy spluttered. His voice was tense and slightly shaking. "We will say that the criminal fled after killing three guards."

"Don't worry. I will do this," Allan assented. He quickly started putting on the disguise.

"Allan, be very careful," Guy urged. He rose to his feet and came to Allan. "Very careful," he repeated. Guy gave his right-hand man a shove, and Allan hastened to the door.

Allan paused near the door and glanced back at Guy. He said quietly, "I will."

After the massive door slammed shut behind Allan, Marian remained sitting dazedly on the bed, looking into the emptiness. Everything happened so quickly that she hardly had time to think. She only knew that Guy had saved her and had murdered the sheriff's guards for her sake. She was deeply touched by his courageous actions that were brutal as well; she hadn't expected that he could be so protective of her after he had killed Rebecca of Locksley's son and arrested the villagers of Locksley and other people.

Guy slumped into a nearby chair and took a deep breath. His body and heart ached with the pain of her new betrayal. His anger was bubbling at the surface, and he was losing control over his temper. "Marian," he called in an unfriendly voice. As she turned to him, he gave her a wolfish glare. "You betrayed your promise to me. You betrayed me again, and now I had to kill my own men to protect you."

Marian jumped to her feet and stood in front of him, her hands on her hips, shaking with anger. "I tried to persuade you to help the villagers, but you don't care for the people."

He sent her a murderous look. "I cannot save all of them! Don't you understand this, you fool?"

"I know that the sheriff is selling the villagers to raise more money for Prince John," she challenged Guy. "I cannot seat and watch that the people are sold like slaves."

"And I couldn't save these beggars by risking our necks, but I didn't need to save them," he shot back.

"Of course," Marian told him sarcastically, sneering at him. "You couldn't save them for me because you are so loyal to the sheriff."

Guy glared at her, his eyes narrowing warningly. "I said that I didn't need to save them."

She blinked in amazement. "Why?"

His face split into an unpleasant grin. "Sir Roger de Lacy has become the new hero of the peasants," he commented with loathing, his gaze never leaving her face. "Lord de Lacy paid to Finn MacMurrough a huge sum of money; the Irishman departed from Nottingham to Provence to hire mercenaries there. The sheriff is going to release the villagers soon; he doesn't want to have the overcrowded dungeons."

Marian was relieved, as if a heavy burden had rolled from her shoulders. "De Lacy did the right thing. And what about the increased taxes on mills and other taxes?"

Guy's face twisted into a look of pure hatred as his mind floated to the day when Robin of Locksley had been pardoned. As Marian instinctively shrank back from him, he forced himself to recover a neutral façade. "Marian, you heard the Royal Proclamation of Hood's pardon. The people, who live on the lands that constitute the Earldom of Huntingdon and the village of Locksley, are exempted from all taxes for one calendar year, although I suppose the sheriff will eventually have his way… somehow."

She seated herself on the bed. "What about other people? In Clun, in Nettlestone, in other villages?"

"All other people in Nottinghamshire don't have the luxury King Richard granted to Hood's peasants. Extremely high taxation undermines the prosperity of many nobles, but all the lords in the shire pay. The villagers also pay all the taxes."

"Guy, you must do something! People will starve to death!"

"It has already been done."

"What?" She frowned.

"De Lacy distributed funds to the peasants honoring King Richard's last birthday," he said with apparent distaste. "It was stupid to say that because it is clear that de Lacy did that at Hood's request."

"Excellent!" she said with a joyful laugh.

Guy heaved a sigh. "I didn't tell the sheriff that Roger de Lacy gave huge donations to the villagers; de Lacy was rather discreet, but my men saw him and informed me about his charity."

Marian smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Guy."

"Are you pleased now?"

"You did the right thing that you allowed Lord de Lacy to give money to the people. De Lacy is a clever man if he is playing with the sheriff within the law."

Guy laughed outright, but it seemed to Marian that there was something guarded in his laughter. "Roger de Lacy is using Robin Hood's money, in fact, King Richard's money," he spoke in a vicious voice that made her ball his hands into fists. "And may I remind you that de Lacy threw us out of Locksley Manor."

Uncertainty and fear pervaded Marian. She was aware of her husband's hatred for Roger de Lacy, and she was fearful that Guy was planning something against Robin's friend. She glowered at him and spoke worriedly. "Please don't tell me that you are going to kill de Lacy."

"No, the sheriff didn't give me this order."

"Vaisey!" she spat bitterly. "Why cannot you stand against him? When will you find enough strength to become your own man?"

"And what did I do for you today?" Guy asked in a steel voice.

"Guy, you have to understand. I had–"

"I am fed up with your explanations!" he roared. "Why are you so stubborn and so reckless?"

"I wasn't reckless!" she protested.

"Every time you go on the Nightwatchman business something happens. You cannot deny that?"

Marian hung her head. "No, I cannot."

Guy emitted a heavy sigh. "At least here we are on the same page."

Marian and Guy lapsed into silence as they heard Vaisey's loud voice calling Gisborne and the guards and commanding them to catch the Nightwatchman. The blood drained from Marian's face as it came to her what was happening in the castle now; Allan was saving her, risking his life for her sake. She heard the screams of the guards and understood that commotion escalated in the castle. She felt ashamed of herself, and her heart was overwhelmed with remorse for what she had unintentionally caused today.

She gazed at Guy in despair. "Guy, I am sorry that I put us in danger."

Guy rose to his feet and stalked towards the bed. He landed on the edge and glanced into her eyes. His gaze was cold and unforgiving, his scowl low and ominous. "Shhh," he replied, holding his gloved finger at Marian's lips. "You are a liar, Marian. I believed you, but you again betrayed me. Every day I grew more and more to love you, but you were making a mockery out of me. Every day I wanted to believe that we can be happy together, even after I learnt that you had slept with Hood." He got to his feet abruptly and walked over to the door. "But you betrayed me over and over again," he threw over his shoulder.

"That is not true!" she cried out desperately.

Guy paused and swung around. Glaring into her eyes and taking one menacing step forward, he hissed, "Don't take me for a fool! All your lies fit you. The way that you behaved with me, your little rides into the forest." He narrowed his eyes at her. "You were trusted here in the castle by all of us."

Marian lowered her head, looking at the floor. "I know."

"Every moment that I thought you were a wife and a friend to me, you were betraying me," he arraigned her, but there was no hatred in his voice. "Don't tell me about your father and the destroyed Knighton Hall! I defended you and even your father before the sheriff countless times!"

"And I deceived the sheriff to help the people," she countered him. "And in so doing, I had to deceive you, and I am sorry for that. But is it such a crime to follow my heart?"

Guy approached her. His hands gripped her shoulders, and he looked down at her lovely face. "I love you, Marian," he said gruffly. "Whatever I do, I want to know that you are safe. That is why today I killed my own men. But I cannot always risk so much."

"You can turn against the sheriff. You can–"

"Stop before you cross the line, Marian. We have already discussed that."

"Everything has a price, even a huge price. And everything is a choice," she retorted, gazing into his eyes. Her eyes were dark with a sudden flash of fury. "You are siding with Vaisey willingly."

Stony silence was her only response. "Not everything is a choice," he said after a long pause.

"I kind of agree," she whispered. "We cannot choose what we feel."

Marian and Guy continued looking into each other's eyes, as if they were entranced. For a long moment, they were oblivious to anything around them as they lost themselves in contemplating one another.

Marian said in her mind that if she needed to choose whom to love, she would have probably chosen Guy. Nevertheless, Robin was always on her mind, and she always hesitated, cursing her own confusion. It was a choice – not a chance – which determined destiny. Marian had made her choice to marry Guy, but she still brooded over her past decisions, torn between Robin and Guy. Maybe choices were questionable; perhaps not only choice could influence her life, or maybe she did make a wrong choice.

She stared at her wedding ring with an oval cut center diamond surrounded by five diamonds. She sighed as she remembered the engagement rings Robin had given her twice when he had proposed to her. When he had proposed before his first departure to the Holy Land, he had given her an exquisite silver ring featuring the massive sapphire carved in the shape of a flower and three small oval cut diamonds around the center; she loved that ring. The second ring had been a beautiful engagement ring featuring a large oval cut emerald surrounded by a sunburst of diamonds; but it had been large and rather eccentric.

Her gaze drifted to Guy's wedding ring on her right hand; she liked it a great deal, but there was no ring that could ever compare to her sapphire engagement ring that she had thrown in Robin's face when he had notified her about his decision to go to war. That ring had been a graceful and elegant piece of jewelry that once belonged to Robin's mother. Now she wanted to learn about the fate of that ring, wondering whether Robin had picked it up in the forest after she had thrown it in his face.

Guy sighed. Even though Robin was Marian's first lover, he didn't want to lose her. He didn't believe he could fall out of love with Marian; at least he wanted to think so because she was his only salvation from his demons and his misery. He wanted her complete surrender, to know that he conquered her heart and that at any moment he could possess her and she could do nothing to stop herself. He craved to make her forget about Robin of Locksley. He was sure that one day she would grow to love him with all her heart.

All of a sudden, Guy leaned forward, and Marian flung herself into his embrace. He drew her to him and kissed her on the lips, fiercely and possessively. They clung to one another like two drowning souls in a dark ocean. Their tongues touched and tangled in a mating dance, their breathing intermingled. It was thrilling, so much so that she smiled as they kissed, and she groaned in fast-rising lust. Guy's fingers entwined into her hair while his hand was roaming over her hip and down her leg, then upward again, urging her closer.

Guy drew back and stared at her, his eyes stormy with passion. "When you are with me, I want to forget everything and everyone in the world."

She arched an eyebrow. "Even the sheriff?"

Guy nodded slowly. "Especially Vaisey."

Marian looked at him, her eyes large and smoldering. "When you are sincere and kind and brave, I think I love you, Guy," she admitted, unexpectedly, even to herself.

His warm smile answered hers. "I love you, Marian."

Guy pulled Marian closer to himself and hugged her tightly. Unable to resist the sweet lure of her lips, he gave a low groan and captured her mouth with his. He kissed her hungrily, surrendering himself to the driving, primitive emotions that flooded through him at the touch of his lips against hers. Marian trembled from the force of desire that swamped her as Guy's warm, questing tongue filled her mouth, the velvet length of it stroking seductively against her own tongue, blatantly inviting her to follow suit.

The spell was broken by the sheriff's loud scream of rage. Marian and Guy parted from one another. Sheriff Vaisey was beside himself with anger, shrieking, and cursing. It seemed that his rancorous voice had destroyed the moment of sweetness for Marian and Guy and held them motionless as they stared at each other fixedly. Then they heard the sheriff's another scream, and shuddered.

"His screams… like a wild beast howling in open-throated fury," Marian said in an irritated manner.

"His temper is like molten lava," Guy agreed. "He is very angry."

Guy marched to the door and opened it. He paused for an instant, half turning to her and giving her a mournful smile. A look of pain and resignation flashed across his visage, but it vanished swiftly. He had to go face Vaisey because it was his duty to obey his master, and Guy exited the room.

§§§

In the corridor, Guy heard the familiar angry shouts, as well as sounds of the voices calling the guards, and then the sheriff's curses that the Nightwatchman had escaped after killing his men. He laughed cynically, his voice thickening with emotion of his triumph over Vaisey that he had finally managed to outsmart the crafty sheriff and, most importantly, had saved Marian.

"Gisborne! Gisborne! Where are you, idiot? Come to me, you blithering oaf! You again failed me! You failed to capture the Nightwatchman!" Vaisey screamed, his fury rising and making his blood boil. "And now the Nightwatchman started killing my men!"

Guy saw Vaisey near the staircase. "Milord, I am sorry, but what happened?"

"Gisborne, are you deaf and dumb? I called you, but you didn't answer!" the sheriff snarled, advancing towards his henchman. "You failed to capture Robin Hood and Hood's accomplice, the Nightwatchman! But I still want the Nightwatchman and Hood's pretty little faces on their pretty little heads attached to their pretty little bodies on a pretty big spike outside my chamber!"

Guy looked at his master helplessly. "I will do everything I can, milord."

"You will fail, as always. You are so worthless," Vaisey hurled more insults at Guy.

"Sire, I assure you that I will not fail next time," Guy protested.

"Gisborne, you have a visitor!" the sheriff informed.

Guy gave a curt nod, his eyes curious as to whom the sheriff meant. "I will see him."

Vaisey and Guy made their way downstairs, to the great hall. Guy ran his eyes across the vast area and gasped at the sight of his visitor, whom he recognized even from the back. It didn't matter that he didn't see her for so many years, for he could recognize the guest even from the distance.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," the lady said in sweetest tones.

Gisborne lowered his head. "Good afternoon," he barked, not looking at his visitor.

Vaisey let out a viperous laugh. "Well, you might lower your head in shame, Gisborne. You have let our night hero escape again and this, this... Is this… is what distracted you?" He pointed his finger at the lady and laughed louder, the ugly sound reverberating in the vacuum of the room.

"This is my sister, Lady Isabella Ghislaine of Shrewsbury," Guy informed. "You know her very well."

"My lords, I prefer to be called Lady Isabella of Gisborne," Isabella noted with a small smile. She strode forward and curtsied deeply before the sheriff. "I am pleased to meet you again, Lord Vaisey."

The sheriff chucked. "It is good to see you, little Isabella, after so many years! I didn't recognize you at first… but now I see that it is really you."

Isabella smiled. "My lord, I am pleased to see you, too."

Vaisey laughed, staring at Guy. "Oh, I am so sorry. Gizzy, you were busy playing happy families." He took a step towards Guy and playfully patted his shoulder. "Your level of incompetence never ceases to amaze me, Gisborne. Every time I think you have plumbed a new depth, you again disappoint me! Well, maybe now Prince John will remember why he put me in command!"

The sheriff walked away in a proud manner, his hands clasped behind his back. Isabella and Guy of Gisborne looked at each other, both contemplating one another after so many years of separation. Isabella's lovely face was crumpled with fright, and all her wits deserted her for a short moment at the sight of Guy's impassive and cold face before she recovered her confidence.

"Oh, Guy, I finally found you!" Isabella cried out. "Are we going to talk here?"

"No, Isabella. Follow me," Guy instructed.

Guy walked down the great hall, heading to the study. He abruptly stopped as he saw Marian standing on the stairs. His wife moved slowly and gracefully, her eyes focusing at the unfamiliar lady. Guy lowered his gaze, displeasure spreading over his features; he didn't wish to Marian to interact with Isabella.

"Good afternoon," Marian began, her tone formal.

Isabella made a gracious curtsey to Marian. "I hope you are doing well, my lady." She turned her gaze to Guy. "Guy, she is your wife? Congratulations, you won a good prize."

Guy might have shot him a wry look had the matter not been so unpleasant for him. "Yes, Lady Marian Fitzwalter of Knighton, Lady Gisborne, is my wife."

Isabella contemplated Marian for a moment; then she smiled. "I am pleased to meet you."

"Marian, this is my sister, Lady Isabella of Gisborne," Guy introduced, his tone tense.

"I am… pleased to meet you, too, Lady Isabella." Marian sounded baffled and slightly amused.

Studying the young woman closely, Marian thought that Lady Isabella of Gisborne was one of the most beautiful women she had ever seen. Isabella was dressed in an expensive pale yellow muslin dress trimmed with a low V-shaped neckline and delicate yellow lace. Her long dark brown hair was unbound, flowing down her back like a second veil. Her gown set off the color of her hair and enhanced the rosy glow of her cheeks and lips. In sunlight, she glittered like a sun-drenched crystal.

Marian could see the amusement lurking in Isabella's eyes every time she batted those long lashes at Guy. Her blue eyes were expressive and almond-shaped, sparkling like the depths of a blue ocean above her full, sensual lips. Her nose was small and straight, emphasizing high cheekbones and a long, swan-like neck. She moved with the natural grace Marian couldn't help but envy. Her small, voluptuous body was clearly defined beneath the revealing clothes she wore, causing Marian to catch her breath in dismay.

"Lady Marian, I remember you as a small girl; you were beautiful and stubborn. You always peaked my interest, for you were a unique child," Isabella purred, looking at Marian with a wide smile.

Marian arched a brow. "You knew me as a child?"

Isabella flashed a sweet smile. "Of course. At that time, you were always running around with Robin of Locksley. I also played with you from time to time."

His eyes on his sister, Guy snapped coldly, "Enough, Isabella," he said in authoritative tones. He came closer to his wife and took her hands in his, his fingers gently stroking her palms. "Marian, I am sorry, but I need to talk to my sister in private."

"I will wait for you upstairs," Marian conceded. She glanced at Isabella uneasily. "I wish you to have a pleasant evening, Lady Isabella," she said formally and curtsied to Guy's sister.

"You are most kind," Isabella said, also curtsying to the younger woman.

"Finish your exchange of pleasantries," Guy grunted. "Isabella, follow me."

Guy let Marian go and walked to Isabella. He eyed his sister suspiciously, and then extended his hand to her; she took his hand, smiling at Guy. Isabella smiled at Marian, and followed her brother.

Marian stared after the retreating backs of Guy and Isabella, silently feeling anxious as their reunion clearly didn't please Guy. Marian was smitten with Isabella's beauty, but she didn't feel emotional attachment to her. Marian hesitated a little, and then she sauntered towards the staircase.

As Marian was about to exit the great hall, Allan entered. He was flushed and breathless after running from the sheriff's men in the Nightwatchman's disguise into the town; in one of the empty lanes, he had hastily changed his clothes and then hurried back to the castle.

"Hey!" Allan's voice resonated near Marian. "I am here."

Marian went to greet Allan. She was very grateful for what he had done for her. "Allan? Are you alright?" she asked, giving him a worried look.

"I am fine, and you are safe," Allan said quietly but firmly.

She smiled at him with gratitude. "Thank you. You saved my life."

"You are welcome, Maz." Allan smiled back at her. "Where is Guy?"

"Guy is with his sister, Lady Isabella of Gisborne. She arrived here an hour ago."

Allan's eyed widened in astonishment. "Guy has a sister?"

Marian made a helpless gesture. "Yes."

"Oh!" Allan blinked.

"I had the same reaction when I learned about her existence."

"Let's go upstairs, Marian." He smiled warmly, motioning with his head.

Guy of Gisborne stepped into the spacious study, and Isabella entered after him. As she shut the door, he immediately started pacing the chamber up and down, his hands clasped behind his back and an anxious look on his face. Abruptly, he came to a stop in front of his sister.

Guy stared at his sister, his forehead furrowing in displeasure. "Why are you here, Isabella?"

Isabella sat down in a nearby chair with a little sigh of relief they were finally alone, spreading the shimmering skirts of her gown about her. "I could not endure another day with him."

His scowl deepened. "And what, Isabella? You just walked away?" He pointed an angry finger at her. "You were joined in holy matrimony!" He turned away from her and looked into emptiness.

Isabella's eyebrows shot up, her temper immediately rising. A feeling of burning hatred revived and bloomed in her heart. But she smiled at him, reminding herself why she had come to Nottingham and who had sent her. "I was only a thirteen-year-old girl. If you have any idea what he did to me..."

He demanded, "What do you want from me?"

She clasped her hands together in a gesture of childish entreaty. "Guy, I am your sister. Surely, you didn't forget that we have the same blood in our veins. All I ask for is your protection."

"Really? And what if I decide to send you back to your husband?"

Isabella shook her head in despair. "Then you would be condemning me to a life of misery for the second time. Only this time you would be doing it knowingly."

"Why should I care about that?"

The expression on her face was impenetrable; her eyes were empty like a well that ran dry. "Guy, I don't believe you knew the damage you were causing when you sent me to Squire Thornton, but now you do know the truth. Surely you must feel some obligation to me, a sense of loyalty and duty?"

"Loyalty? And can I expect loyalty from you?"

"Give me a chance," Isabella begged.

"You must swear that you will never talk about Robin of Locksley in my presence," he requested.

She gazed at him in bewilderment. "You still hate him?"

"Never say his name!" Guy shrieked indignantly, clenching his fists.

"I swear that I will never remind you about him," she pledged. "I will earn your trust and your respect, but please... don't send me back to my husband."

"If you defy my authority, I will drag you back to Shrewsbury myself," he promised. "Is that clear?"

Isabella darted him a vulnerable look. "You have my word, brother."

"Very well, then you may stay under my protection," he told her.

She had sensed Guy's hesitation before her brother's voice came to her, cold and distant. She got what she wanted, and it was all that mattered. She uttered with feigned gratitude, "Thank you, Guy."

"You shouldn't thank me. I don't think that you will like living here."

Isabella smiled. "Believe me that it will be much, much better than it was with my husband."

"You shouldn't have walked away from your husband," he continued almost rudely. "If Squire Thornton finds you and comes here, I will make you leave with him."

"Guy, do you hate me so much that you are ready to give me back to my husband?"

"Stop talking nonsense, Isabella," he growled. "It doesn't suit you."

Isabella tossed her head. "And does being married to a cruel beast suit me well?"

With some difficulty, Guy bit back the comment that he wasn't interested in knowing anything about her family life. "Does your husband at least know where I live? Can he come here?"

"Guy, you haven't answered my question."

"The same old same old," he snapped wrathfully. "Will you ever grow tired of complaining?"

"Why should I?" Isabella glowered at him defiantly, her eyes icy blue daggers. "You don't know whom you gave my hand in a marriage so many years ago in Angers."

"Isabella, I gave you a chance to have a better life."

She scoffed. "You don't know what I had to endure in my marriage!" She sounded desperate, but her tone was chilly. "I hate my wedding day! It was the day when my life was ruined!"

Many years ago, Vaisey and Guy had left Rouen and had traveled through the county of Anjou, heading to Angers. Isabella had accompanied Guy on the trip. She had been displeased that Guy had forced her to leave the castle in Conches, where he had arrived from Rouen and had announced that he had left Sir Roger de Tosny's service. Isabella had wanted to stay in the castle where she had lived for several years in happiness, enjoying Roger de Tosny's attention, as well as by his kindness and courtesy. She had been even more displeased that Guy had forced her to leave Normandy and travel to Anjou.

Vaisey and Guy had murdered several knights loyal to Prince Richard in the city of Angers. It had been the first time when Guy had literally bathed in blood of the innocent men whom he had cruelly slain at Vaisey's order. He had been christened as an experienced cool-blooded murderer in Angers, not in Rouen where he had killed only one man in the Forest of Rouvray after meeting with Vaisey. In Angers, Vaisey had become Guy's godfather, the executioner of his innocence and his most vicious tormentor.

In Angers, Vaisey had introduced Guy to Squire Thornton, his second cousin, who had been attracted to Isabella at first glance. The sheriff had paid Guy only a small fee for his services, explaining that he had already pardoned Guy a huge debt. Vaisey had told Guy that he couldn't have given him money to pay for his knighthood training in Rouen. Besides, Guy hadn't had enough money to support Isabella financially. Thus, he had quickly agreed when Square Thornton had offered him a good fortune for Isabella.

Guy had thought that his sister needed the gravitas of marriage to elevate her social standing in the English hierarchical society; he had believed that marriage to Thornton would give his sister a chance to have a better life. It had prompted Guy to sell his own sister to the man whom he had seen only once in his life. After the wedding, Guy had left his sister with Squire Thornton and had departed with Vaisey.

"You are exaggerating," Guy snapped. "Your husband is a wealthy man. He can take care of you."

She stiffened, her jaw clenched. "My husband doesn't care for me as a person. I am not a human being in his eyes – I am nothing for him. He only wants to spend days with a pile of smelly fleeces and make me spin wool all day while he enjoys insulting and beating me!"

"You are his wife! You must obey your husband! He is your lord!"

Isabella wore a look of puzzlement, but soon smiled again. "My husband has been beating me throughout many years. And you think that it is alright because we are a wedded couple and because he is my lord?"

Guy had nothing to tell her. He hadn't known Squire Thornton and had never suspected that he could be cruel to Isabella. If he agreed with her, it would mean that he admitted his own mistake, and it was not what he wanted. "Isabella, please let's finish this conversation."

"I just want to understand, Guy, how you could have married me off to the man whom you saw only once in your life," she persisted. "You got rid of me as though I had been a piece of dirt." Her face became wistful. "You and I lived so well in Conches, at Sir Roger de Tosny's beautiful castle. We were not rich, and we didn't have lands, but we were not poor and we didn't starve."

"Isabella, stop before you cross the line." He was barely holding his temper back. The reminder of the fact that he had left his service to Sir Roger de Tosny after the man had been wounded on a tournament in Rouen sent him to the verge of madness. It was one of the most significant regrets in his life.

"Sir Roger de Tosny was interested in me," Isabella persisted, her stubborn and wounded heart pushing her to continue. Memories were flooding her from all directions. "Sir Roger was so kind to me! He always invited me to ride together, and you allowed us to ride into the forest without being chaperoned by you. He gave me some gifts, including my favorite sapphire necklace which I still wear."

"I am aware that Roger liked you," Guy agreed. "I didn't chaperone you because I trusted him."

"And you didn't trust me, did you?"

"Isabella," Guy addressed his sister in a warm voice, "You were just a girl of twelve years old when Roger showed his interest in you. He could have done nothing to you. And Roger is an honest and kind man."

"Sir Roger de Tosny is a man of honor," Isabella affirmed without a shadow of doubt, her expression unusually bright. "And if I were older and if you didn't leave his service, he would have started courting me." Her eyes revealed anguish. "Sir Roger could have wedded me if you, Guy, didn't run away from him to Lord Vaisey! And then I would have been free from my husband who made my life a living hell!" She gritted her teeth. "It would have been better to retire to a convent than to be married to Thornton!"

A cold and bloody rage overtook Guy. Her words cut him like a blade. "What don't you understand, Isabella?" he bellowed. "You know very well that Roger was seriously wounded on a tournament. He barely survived his injury. He didn't need a squire at least for six months; but we did need money to survive."

Isabella let out a sarcastic laughter, her expression grim. "It is a typical argument," she said with contempt. "You always find something to justify yourself."

"Isabella, if you don't stop your hysteria, I myself will take you back to your husband, to Shrewsbury."

She was glaring at him, but now her eyes brimmed with tears and her lips moved as if she were silently mouthing words of hurt. "I hate you!'" she spat at last. She turned on her heels and ran towards the hall.

Guy sighed heavily. Isabella needed a firm hand to control her and guide her in a life. More specifically, she needed a hand of a firm man whom she could have considered an authority and whom she could have respected. It seemed that Squire Thornton couldn't be such a man, but Isabella was a married woman, and there was nothing that could have changed that, apart from her husband's death.

He wondered whether her heart was too scarred by the unfortunate experience in her marriage. Young Isabella had always been prone to dramatization, and he assumed that she didn't change and might have exaggerated her personal drama. His mind went to the thoughts of Sir Roger de Tosny, Baron de Conches, who had fancied Isabella in the past, and his heart filled with pain that he had been forced by Vaisey to leave Roger. If he had continued serving de Tosny at least for some time more, Isabella could have married Roger.

At the same time, Isabella was running to her bedroom where she was lodged at Vaisey's order. As soon as she remained alone, she felt tears prickling behind her lids. She was shuddering in a mixture of rage, hatred, and heartache. She was sobbing with frustration and fury at her own inability to control her fate, to be independent from men whom she had grown to hate. She hurled herself on the bed, her face buried in her hands, and she began to cry. The pain was so strong that didn't allow her to think clearly.

Isabella hated Guy for marrying her off to a cruel beast that had violated Isabella physically every day and had almost murdered her several times. She hated the day of her wedding to the man who had ruined her world, the last happy day of her life. She hated Squire Thornton with all her heart, but she had played a role of a happy wife throughout the long years of their dreadful marriage. And beneath the pretense, she had hated her life. The only alternative had been to run away, but long years of married life in Shrewsbury had deprived her of all the contacts in England her parents while Guy had deserted her a long time ago.

Squire Thornton had almost broken her spirit and will, but she had survived. Isabella of Gisborne had been alone in the world with her pain and hatred, and, hence, she had stayed in Shrewsbury, chained to Thornton and obliged to endure his wanton cruelty and sadism, paying a high price for being fed and having a roof above her head. There had been no light in Isabella's life until the day that had been much better than any other day in her life since her marriage. Maybe one day she would be able to find enough strength to tell Guy how many horrible things her husband had done to her.

Isabella cried many tears for all of her own emotional pain and her inner disharmony. She wept herself dry until there was not one tear left. From there, she drifted into an exhausted doze.

§§§

During the next few days, Marian spent most of her time in her and Guy's bedchamber. Guy requested that she be confined to their room, which puzzled her. Every morning she awoke and found several platters with food on a silver tray as Guy had ordered to bring the meal to her to prevent her from leaving the room.

Marian saw that something serious was going on around her, but she had no clue as to what it could be. Guy became very reserved and extremely secretive, and his unusual demeanor proved that something was going on. She was frightened, but put on a serene face and smiled at him with a fake smile. Guy didn't want to talk about Isabella and didn't even encapsulate as to why she had come to Nottingham. The sheriff was in unusually high spirits, and Marian wondered what caused such a dramatic change in the man who had been full of wrath about two weeks ago when he had again failed to capture the Nightwatchman.

Guy made love to Marian every night. She feared that she could have been pregnant after her only time with Robin in the woods, but nothing had happened. Robin had promised her that everything would be alright because he had been excessively careful. She didn't need to be experienced to understand what he had meant: Robin was intimate with many women, but he had never sired a bastard on any of his lovers, as he himself had told Marian, for he had known how to effectively prevent the conception of a child.

Now Marian was a married woman, and she wondered why she didn't conceive yet: Guy and she shared a bed regularly, they didn't use birth control, and she had many chances to conceive. Then she remembered her injury in her lower abdomen which Guy had inflicted on her on the night when she had tried to rob him before their first wedding ceremony. Djaq had informed Marian that she would probably have problems to conceive. A few months ago, Matilda had told her the same when she had asked why she hadn't gotten pregnant yet; the old healer had shrugged and advised to continue trying for a baby, stating that at times it could be difficult to conceive. Marian wanted to have her own child and feared that she was barren.

Guy of Gisborne often made love to his wife till dawn, trying to drive all the shadows of the past from her heart and mind, leaving only passion to color her dreams. Her husband teased and tantalized her until she was drunk with his kisses and touches. She writhed and moaned in his arms, her groans deep and throaty with emotion. Yet, she still remembered Robin, and her mind often drifted back to her former betrothed while Guy kissed and caressed her; Robin's ghost haunted her day and night.

Once, Guy came to the bedroom after midnight. He had spent the whole evening with the sheriff in the study, planning their upcoming trip to Acre. Vaisey had also invited Isabella to have a cup of ale together; Guy had noticed that his sister had communicated more eagerly with Vaisey than with him, his own brother, and he was both puzzled and displeased. If she hated Squire Thornton, then she must have hated Vaisey as well because the sheriff had gotten Guy acquainted with Squire Thornton, the sheriff's distant cousin. Yet, Isabella seemed to like Vaisey's company more than Guy's.

"Marian, I will have to leave soon," Guy began in a low voice. He removed his sword belt and put his sword on a table in the corner. Then he started unfastening his shirt.

Marian already lay in the bed. Looking at him, she felt her body trembling. "Why?" she asked quietly.

"The sheriff and I have to leave Nottingham for a while."

She arched a brow. "Are you again going to London?"

Guy finished undressing and was now sitting on the edge of the bed, gazing at his wife. He stiffened and a frown creased his face. "I have many deals to do for the sheriff, Marian. I must go, and nothing can stop me, not even you," he said belligerently, as if it was her fault that he had to depart.

She met his eyes briefly and hastily looked away. A vague feeling of alarm was rapidly becoming a strong suspicion. "How long will you be gone?" she managed to ask after a long pause.

"I will be absent for… several weeks," Guy murmured, wishing that she didn't ask him any questions. He lied that he would be absent for several weeks instead of six months or more. He couldn't tell her the truth.

A baffled Marian looked back at him. "So much time?"

Guy nodded in confirmation. "You think so?"

"And you are ready to leave me again?"

His expression softened. "Life will be like purgatory without you; I don't want to go there, but I have to."

"Then stay with me." Her tone was almost pleading.

"I cannot." He shook his head, looking into her eyes. "Will you miss me?"

"Yes, Guy, I will," she said with a small smile. She didn't lie – she missed him when he was away.

Guy took Marian's hands in his and kissed both each of them. There was silence for some time between them. When he spoke, his voice was heavy with regret and shame. "There is a thin line between love and hatred. I fear you will start hating me," he said in a strange manner, as if it were something inevitable.

Marian scrutinized him, suspecting the facetiousness of his words. But Guy didn't have Robin's delightful tongue-in-cheek humor, and she had no reason to suspect that he was jesting. And if Guy was being serious, then it meant that he was implicated in something that would bring much damage to the lives of others. A presentiment of evil and disaster pervaded Marian at the thought that Guy was going to kill King Richard.

"Why should I?" she asked cautiously.

A look of vulnerability briefly crossed his face. "People mostly hate me."

"When you perform your job for the sheriff, I think I ought to hate you," she whispered in a voice sodden with mellow sadness. "But when you are honest and sincere, I cannot hate you. I feel for you."

"You are frightfully good to me," Guy cried out miserably, kissing her hands again.

Sighing deeply, Guy leaned over to snuff the candles on a bedside table. Then he drew the hangings close around the bed. Marian would have preferred to see his expression, but he had probably quenched the light so that she couldn't. That confirmed her suspicions that something serious and bad was going on.

Guy took Marian in his arms and moved her to himself so her whole body was cradled against his. He kissed her with a strange, disquieting mixture of need and anger. She felt his hand go under her nightgown and cupped her breast, his palms and fingers hard from wielding a sword, but still oddly gentle. He deepened the kiss as his hand continued stroking over the skin of her flat stomach, caressing her thighs and stomach and breasts. Never had Marian been kissed with such rapacious hunger. Never had Guy poured so much incandescent passion into his kisses and caresses, and she thought that she might melt like candle wax. Then he lay atop of her, and they became one in a dance of physical love.

After their lovemaking was over, Marian lay in his arms, a storm of unabated emotions raging inside her. In a few minutes, she got hold of herself and started trying to combine all of the many disjointed snippets of information she collected so far. It was like being blindfolded and walking into a dark forest, hoping to find a way to her final destination, yet knowing that she would need a glimpse of sunlight to avoid losing her way in the maze of trees and bushes. Her mind raced through the events of the past weeks, but she was still at the dead end. In spite of all her fears and anxiety, a tired Marian then fell asleep.

Unlike Marian, Guy was gripped by powerful nightmares, tossing and turning in his bed. In his dreams, he saw the halo of the burning Gisborne Manor, Bailiff Longthorn, and a crowd of irate villagers. He could hear the bailiff's sharp voice commanding to set the fire at the façade of the manor, his words stabbing Guy right into his heart. He heard how the bailiff intimidated the villagers that leprosy would kill everyone in Locksley and in Nottingham if they didn't stop spreading the disease in the village and in the shire.

Guy moved his body and rolled over on his belly, heat burning his skin as if he himself were burning from the inside out. He envisioned the villagers throwing torches at the manor and could hear them screaming as the flames were licking at the roof. He could hear the bailiff accusing him of murdering his own parents and banishing him and Isabella from Locksley. Robin's frightened face flashed in his mind, but in the next moment, his mind envisaged Isabella and himself leaving Locksley and Robin watching their plight.

Soon another nightmare gripped Guy. Gruesome visions pervaded his mind: visions of chopped-off heads and limbs, of corpses with sightless eyes staring at them in silent accusation; on top of that, he felt as if he were reliving every action of his own, every thrust of his broadsword in stomachs, chests, necks, skulls, sides, and thighs. His body trembled as he imagined the corpses of all his victims which were arranged in a very long line. Guy could see the face of every man he had killed, and their eyes full of horror and pain. His victims always appeared in his horrible dreams like ravenous beasts ready to tear his heart and soul apart.

Soon Guy was again dreaming of the fire, but not at Gisborne Manor – instead, visions of hell and hellfire resurfaced in his mind. A black male figure emerged from the flames, the man's features indistinguishable. Guy saw himself stepping away from the flames as he was trying to run away but failed. He could feel the rough hands grabbing his shoulders and pulling him closer. At last, Guy could see the face of his tormentor – a sneering Vaisey was so close that he shuddered in revulsion mingled with horror. Vaisey extended his hand and Guy took it, the sheriff howled with triumph and led him to the deepest pits of hell.

Guy screamed in horror. His eyes flung open, his eyes were wild. He moved himself into a sitting position and stared into space. His night robe was soaked with cold sweat. "God help me," he murmured.

Marian also awoke, staring at Guy in the darkness. "Guy, what is going on? Did you have a nightmare?"

"I did," he confessed.

She wrapped her arm around his back and started to shove herself upright. Sitting in the bed, she called him, "Guy…" Her voice halted, as if something had gotten stuck in her throat.

He drew away from her. "I am alright."

"No, you are not," she protested, releasing a sigh of disheartenment.

"I am fine," he growled, shifting further away from her.

In the darkness, she couldn't see him, but she felt him shaking. "I want to help you."

Guy looked at her apologetically. "I am sorry," he murmured. "Please sleep."

Marian nodded wordlessly. She had understood a while ago that Guy had suffered from the nightmares about his parents' deaths in the fire. She guessed that he might have dreams about the people murdered by him as well. She once tried to talk to him about his dreams, wishing to ease his burdens, but he always cut her off sharply, saying that he wasn't ready to be frank. If she insisted, he became angry, and they quarreled.

Guy lay under a blanket, his eyes shut, his breathing labored. His horrible dreams were nothing new to him. He had the same dreams for many years. The dream about Vaisey and hellfire was a new nightmare that started plaguing him only recently. He often wondered whether this nightmare meant that he would end up in hell after his death if he didn't do anything to atone. Nightmares drained Guy's energy at night, and he wished to have at least an hour of peaceful sleep. When will these dreams leave him in peace? He was ready to tolerate the dreams about the fire at Gisborne Manor and even about Robin Hood, but not about the sheriff and hell. What should he do now? Why had God forsaken him many years ago?

The next morning, Marian awoke later than usual to the sunlight piercing through the window in the bedroom. Guy was not in the bed, and she believed that he had left at dawn. She climbed out of the bed and found several platters with food on her bedside table. She nibbled her meal slowly, although it was delicious. After the breakfast, Marian began pacing her bedchamber restlessly, uncertain what to do next. She longed to go out, but she didn't wish to break the word she had given to Guy – she had promised that she would stay in her room for some time and wouldn't leave it; she didn't want to have arguments with him. As time was passing, she grew increasingly discontented because of being obliged to remain indoors.

Unable to endure loneliness anymore and to battle with her growing worry, Marian donned a modest leaf green gown trimmed at the hem with gold embroidery and adorned with light green laces on the sleeves. The gown was gorgeous, made out of expensive silk that draped and clung to her graceful and well-curved body, accentuating her beauty in the way that made clear it had been crafted for her alone; it was one of Guy's recent gifts to Marian. Marian took a deep breath and said a silent prayer that she would find Allan soon, for he was the only man who could enlighten her about the secret events in the castle.

Marian stopped Allan in one of the corridors. "What is going on? Why is everyone so anxious?"

Allan looked around to make sure that they were alone. "The sheriff says that we are leaving very soon."

She heaved a sigh. "Well, have they told you why?"

"We are going to Portsmouth," he responded after a short pause. "That's all I know, Marian, alright? And you didn't get that from me."

"You know what this means?"

"No, I don't."

All at once, her expression changed into coldness. Her brain was reeling with shock, her heart pounding, her knees trembling. "The king... They must be expecting the king to land in Portsmouth."

Allan shook his head in denial. "No, Maz. The king is in the Holy Land. I know this for sure. This trip could mean anything for all I know."

"That's not enough, Allan! They are planning something! What if it concerns the king? Or what if they are planning to sail for Acre to kill the king?"

His brow wrinkled as he began to think hard. "It is possible," he admitted after a moment's pause. "This trip is just the sheriff, Gisborne, and I. No soldiers, no mercenaries, but I feel it is serious."

"Are you going to do something?"

Allan gave a sour laugh. "Look, I am just a whipping boy around here."

Marian scoffed. "The packing boy." She pointed a finger at him. "Look, if you go along with treason, then you are committing treason too."

Allan laughed. "I am not committing an act of treason because I am going to contact Robin."

Her face brightened, and her heart hammered harder. "Robin? How?"

He leaned to her ear and whispered, "The man whom the sheriff killed on the day of the fight with the villagers gave me Robin's letter. Robin asked for my help, and, of course, I agreed."

"Excellent!" she cried out joyfully. Then her face darkened. "But Robin is in the Holy Land…"

"Lord de Lacy told me that I can always come to him and tell him... But…" He stumbled with words.

"Did you do that?"

He nodded an affirmative. "I came to Locksley as soon as I learned about our journey, but they told me that Lord de Lacy had left for Pontefract Castle two hours before I came. He will return only in a few days."

"We have to stop it," Marian said resolutely. "I am going to stop it."

Allan looked dumbfounded. "How?"

"I don't know. I will kill the sheriff if I have to."

Allan's eyes grew wider. "What?" He stepped towards her, startled by the anger and determination in her voice and in her eyes. "Maz, have you forgotten what happens if the sheriff dies?"

"No. Prince John's armies will raze Nottingham to the ground."

"So leave it!" He turned away and headed for the storeroom under the north corridor of the castle.

Marian followed Allan. "Yes, but if the king is in the Holy Land, then Prince John would think that Vaisey had left, not that he is dead; the prince's men won't come here. Nottingham will be safe."

Allan stopped, looking at her with frantic eyes, as though she had gone mad. "Are you going to save King Richard and England single-handedly?" he deduced, his voice laced with irony.

She was silent for a moment, her mind bouncing onto another train of thought. The future of England was at stake! Her anxiety peaked as she imagined the dead King Richard and, even worse, the dead Robin Hood. No, Robin couldn't die! Staring at him in the eye, she appealed to him, "Allan, I need your help! You have to help me! Even though Roger de Lacy is away, we have to act – we have to kill the sheriff!"

"No, Maz," he said firmly; there was a note of disbelief in his voice. He feared what would happen to him if he failed to kill Vaisey. "We cannot kill the sheriff without Roger de Lacy."

She touched his shoulder. "Have no fear, Allan. We will kill the sheriff and then–"

"Sorry, you are out of your depth. Leave everything to me. I will contact de Lacy, and we will decide how to stop the sheriff," Allan interrupted her. He began to walk away, intending to go to the storeroom.

Marian smiled cunningly. "No, we have no time to wait. I am sorry."

Allan frowned and wanted to say something, but no words came out; he was amazed by the look of steely determination plastered all over her face. In the next moment, Marian punched him in the jaw with such strength that he fell backward, dazed, losing his consciousness. She knelt by Allan's motionless form and took his sword belt. She bounced to her feet and headed to the door, looking around and checking whether the way was clear. Marian made up her mind – she would try to kill the sheriff right now.

"You underestimated me, Allan," Marian thought as she walked down the corridor. "Damn you, Allan! That's your style to have others solve your problems, this time, Roger de Lacy! If you are a coward who fears to kill the sheriff and save the king, then I will save the king on my own. I will stop Vaisey in England."

Marian quickly passed through the corridor, heading to the war room. As she heard Guy's voice calling Allan, she hid in a nearby alcove and watched him pass her. She drew Allan's sword and hurtled to the doors; she was relieved that she didn't meet any guards on the way to her destination. When she finally entered the war room, she saw the sheriff swinging the pitcher up and setting it on the map of England where he had marked the lands he would rule and own after King Richard's death.

"Wonderful news, my lords! Glorious news!" Vaisey promulgated to himself, sneering and sipping wine. As he placed his goblet over the fireplace, he outstretched his arms and continued dreaming of power the king's death would bring him. "We, the Black Knights, stand on the verge of greatness." Laughing, he walked back to the map table. "We didn't wait for Mohammed to come to the mountain. We took the mountain to Mohammed!" He laughed gaily, his face smug. "We did not wait for the king to land..."

Holding her breath, Marian stood on her tiptoes to get a better view. She placed a hand on the hilt of the sword and strode forward, her footsteps almost noiseless. Feeling her fingers shake, she wrapped them hard around the weapon's hilt. As she stood behind Vaisey, she raised her sword to stab the sheriff from the back.

Unfortunately, the sheriff could see the reflection of an armed Marian swinging the sword at him in the polished silver pitcher. As she lunged at him, the old man ducked and instantly turned to face her, grabbing her sword arm and disarming her. She attempted to struggle with Vaisey, but he swiveled her around and pinned her onto the map table, holding Allan's sword against her throat.

There was a gloating smile on Vaisey's face. "Checkmate, my leper friend."

Marian managed a fake smile. "Oh, well, a great pity."

She wasn't a woman who could accept her defeat without a fight. Not losing any time, she jumped and kicked the sheriff with her legs; Vaisey cried out in pain and cursed. Marian shoved the sword away from the sheriff's hand with her arm, ignoring the pain in her palm as the blade sliced her skin. Then she landed a fist against the sheriff's jaw, and Vaisey staggered backwards, but he didn't lose his balance.

The sheriff licked his dry lips, his face turning angry. "You are a good fighter, my little missy."

"My father wanted me to be able to take care of myself," Marian announced proudly as she leaned down to take the sword from the floor.

But luck was not at Marian's side. The sheriff rushed forward and grabbed her both arms, causing her to whimper in pain. Vaisey slapped her across her cheek and pushed her back to the wall, cornering her. But Marian still tried to fight with her captor: she punched the old man in the stomach and tried to escape, but Vaisey grabbed her arms once more; he was physically stronger and wasn't ready to let her escape.

As the sheriff stood behind Marian, she gripped his forearms tightly, wishing to throw him over her shoulder and then make an elegant somersault; she often did the same when the Nightwatchman had to incapacitate the guards. But she underestimated Vaisey, for he was heavier and stronger than she thought. He punched her in the face and then spun her around to himself. Marian gave a howl of pain.

"Again checkmate, my dear missy," Vaisey said, looking into her cold eyes.

"You are a traitor," Marian hissed between set teeth.

The sheriff laughed. "I hope you bear no hard feelings for treating you so badly, my little leper."

Vaisey hit Marian in the face so hard that she tumbled to the floor. Then the sheriff placed his heavy-booted foot onto her chest, looking down at her and smiling menacingly.

"You are a spirited leper," he said, pressing his boot down onto Marian's heart.

"You are an animal," Marian hissed as a wave of impotent rage coursed through her.

"You made two big mistakes, missy," he growled, pressing the boot tightly.

Marian glared up at the man she hated wholeheartedly. She looked fearlessly into his eyes despite her inward fear and the pain she was experiencing. "At least I tried to stop you."

"But you failed."

"You are going to kill the king!" she accused him.

"Yes, I am going to kill the Lionheart," Vaisey announced with an evil sneer. "Your husband, Gisborne, is also going to kill the king. And not only the king. We will kill Robin Hood as well!"

"Robin won't allow you to kill King Richard! He will stop you!" Marian declared passionately.

"What is going on here?" a loud female voice came behind Marian and Vaisey. It was Isabella's voice.

"Oh, this is good! Someone else is joining out little tryst," the sheriff retorted, licking his lips.

Dressed in a long azure gown that was cut low over her breasts and was embroidered with pearls, Isabella of Gisborne looked as if she were entirely covered by pearls that she seemed like a very creature of a sea. A visibly shocked Isabella glanced between Marian on the floor and the sheriff standing near her and pressing his heavy boot to her chest. Isabella's expression was lost at first and then evolved into deep shock.

"My God," Isabella managed to say in a scared voice.

Vaisey took Allan's sword from the floor and put it to Marian's throat. Marian's expression was pained as the pressure from the boot on her breast was enormous, but she didn't even flinch and whimper.

The sheriff smiled nastily. "Oh, we have a new guest!"

"What is going on? Oh, my God..." Isabella stammered, seeing the sword at Marian's throat.

The sheriff shrugged and laughed. "Lady Isabella, I am delighted to see you!"

"Please leave Lady Marian! Why are you threatening to her?" Isabella was confused.

"Run, Lady Isabella, run," Marian moaned the words. Then she whimpered and gasped for air as Vaisey increased the pressure of the cold metal on her throat, almost cutting off the air for her.

"You came where you should be, Lady Isabella! No need to escape!" the sheriff screeched, his voice echoing in the room. "Guards, come here! They tried to kill me! Save your sheriff from the assassins!"

Marian and Isabella shared shocked glances. They were cornered and trapped, hoping that Guy would somehow save them. Isabella was on a special mission in Nottingham. Reduced to a life of degrading humiliation and constant pretense, Isabella lost most of her humanity along the way and developed her cunning strategy to survive; she played her dramatic games with masterly finesse and could wrap around her finger even the most inexperienced conspirator, and, for her, the stakes were even higher than for Guy.

---

I hope you truly enjoyed this chapter and the plot.

The plot is thickening as Vaisey and Guy are going to depart to the Holy Land soon. There are spoilers from season 2 in this chapter, as well as from season 3 because I brought Isabella into the picture. Isabella plays an important role in this story.

Guy is not very enthusiastic about killing the king, but he is still loyal to Vaisey, and he also hates Robin Hood, for Robin was pardoned by the king and Guy again lost everything. Surely, Guy wants to take his revenge on Robin, but something is going to happen that will change Guy's opinion about Robin. In the Holy Land, the triangle of love and hatred will be untangled, and Guy's redemption is one of the most important events in the second half of the long story. I will say nothing more on the matter.

As it happened on the show, Marian tried to kill the sheriff, but she failed. But we all know that Marian was the Nightwatchman for many years while Robin fought in the Holy Land alongside King Richard. I was surprised that Marian was defeated so easily by the sheriff in the series, and to give credit to Marian's good fighting skills, I changed this scene in my story. In my version of this episode, she struggled with Vaisey, and it was not easy for the old man to defeat her.

In the end, Marian and Isabella are trapped after Marian had failed to kill the sheriff and Isabella had become a witness of Marian's failure by chance. You can probably guess what is going to happen next. As Marian is defeated and cornered together with Isabella, the chapter's title is "Checkmate."

To someone's relief and someone's sorrow, I have to say that chapters 6, 7, 8, and 9 are very dramatic and full of emotions, angst, and mental anguish because the events in the Holy Land are shocking and tragic. But even if someone dies or is seriously wounded, I can assure you that you will understand why I introduced one or another twist, for every twist has its purpose. I am sure that you will understand and, perhaps, even like the outcome of the events in the Holy Land.

I am an angst writer, and I have to agree with that; I like drama and tragedy, and I thrive when I write dramatic and tragic situations and events. If you want to read something really emotionally gripping and extremely dramatic, then this part of the long epic is exactly what you are looking for. I think this part of the epic is more dramatic than part one; you are warned about that.

All the reviews are very welcome, even ones with harsh critique.

I wish you to have a good weekend.

If you find any typos and/or mistakes here, please let me know about them in a private message.

Yours faithfully, Penelope Clemence