Now Catrine understood why so many women embroidered everything around the house. There was simply nothing else to do.
She laid the piece of yellow fabric across her knee, the Gisborne crest half-finished in the lower corner. Sighing, Catrine turned in her chair in front of the fireplace and looked out the window at the activity outside. With Locksley's wheat fields dying and all other crops withering, Catrine had racked her brain to think of a solution for winter. What little grain was left would be rationed, of course, but most would serve to feed the cattle. Almost all the beasts would soon be slaughtered and their meat salted. But that was the best answer Catrine could think of. Without any other help, it would be a hard, cold, and hungry winter.
She began to stitch the black thread through the cloth once more, concentrating on the fine point of the bone needle as she traced the thread around the crest's edge.
Suddenly, the thundering of hoof beats echoed through the manor, startling Catrine who pricked her finger in surprise, blood slightly soaking the fabric on her lap. "Damn," Catrine mumbled and began to suck on her wounded finger, looking at the bright red stain now on her needlework.
The manor door flew open, and Guy stormed in, his rage almost palpable as he unbuckled his belt, throwing the strap and the scabbard on the wooden table. He reached for the canter of wine and poured himself a brimming goblet, draining it all in one draught. The empty pewter cup clanked against the table as Guy roughly set it down, leaning over with both of his clenched, leather-gloved fists bracing him against the tabletop.
"You're back so early, what happened?" Catrine asked, removing her bleeding finger from her mouth.
Guy turned his head to face her sitting by the fire. His glaring eyes narrowed in blazing anger. Unable to describe his day thus far, his fury choked all words within him.
"Oh wait… you need your welcoming..." Catrine smirked as she gathered the cloth from her lap, standing up from her seat and walking towards Guy. She clutched the trailing yellow cloth in one hand, "Welcome home, my love," she said cheerily, crossing the distance between her and Guy with her arms widespread. The hardness in his gaze softened, and Guy smirked in reply as he straightened up from the table.
Walking closer, Catrine presented her handiwork, "You see, husband, I have been an ever so diligent wife in your absence." Guy took the cloth in his hand, laughing once as he examined the half-finished Gisborne crest covered partially in blood. He smiled and set the cloth down on the table. Catrine took the opportunity to wrap her arms around Guy's waist, "Now, tell me, what has set my love on this rampage of anger, hmm? What has that nasty sheriff done this time?"
Guy turned in her arms and huffed, craning his neck back as he felt his frustrations rise up within him again. "Well, apparently, the Sheriff has a plan to feed Nottingham Castle for the winter. Not the shire, not the villages. Just the castle," he said, stepping away from her arms.
"And? What is his plan, Guy?" Catrine asked, resting her hands on her hips.
"I don't know, Catrine," Guy's voice lowering into a growl, his teeth clenched as he spoke, "The Sheriff won't say. Some secret mission he assigned to Captain Atwood. Not me."
Catrine cocked her head questioningly, "How did you find out about this then?"
"I overheard it all from the guards' quarters. Sheriff said that Atwood would be responsible for some mission tonight, saying that I couldn't be trusted because…" his husky voice trailed off as he looked at Catrine.
"Because of what, Guy?" she asked straightly.
"Because he knew I would tell you about the mission, because he thinks we assume too much power instead of him as sheriff. There are a million reasons, Catrine. But the point is he's undermining me, ignoring me, leaving me in the dark. And I just won't stand for it." With one loud grunt, Guy kicked over the nearest chair, sending it bouncing across the floor with resounding clatters.
Catrine sighed, "Guy," she whispered, bringing her hand to rest on his stubbled cheek. "If you want my help, you need to tell me everything you heard," she continued as she gently turned his head towards her. "Now, do you want my help?"
He looked into her deep brown eyes, "Yes," he replied, and he folded his arms over his chest as he remembered the words echoing through the thick wooden door. "The Sheriff ordered Atwood to leave the castle at midnight… to go to Sister Agatha's… which was a good two hours away by cart… and that he would need total darkness to hide himself in," Guy recited.
Catrine nodded her head, patted Guy's cheek once, and stepped away from him, looking down to the floor and slowly running her fingers through her hair. "Hmm," she murmured, lost in thought, "The Sheriff is obviously planning some sort of raid or secret exchange of goods… hence the cart and the darkness… but I don't quite see why the Sheriff would be so interested in Sister Agatha's…"
"What is Sister Agatha's even?" Guy asked, staring at his wife.
"Sister Agatha runs an orphanage just outside of the village of Klun… about two hours ride from Nottingham which follows logically. But I don't know why the Sheriff would intend to make some sort of transaction there." Catrine looked up from the floor, meeting Guy's concerned gaze. "What would the Sheriff want that only an orphanage would have?"
Guy began to open his mouth, shaking his head, "Nothing… nothing that I can think of."
Catrine's eyes squinted closed as she thought, her hand coming to rest around her mouth. "It must be something important, and something incredibly secret or shameful if he can't even tell either of us about it." She straightened up with a crooked smirk on her face, flicking back the hair that had fallen over her shoulder. "In either case, Guy, I do believe this appears to be a chance for revenge, for both of us. If the Sheriff believes the answer to his famine crisis for the castle lies at Sister Agatha's orphanage, then why not take it for ourselves… and for Locksley of course," her eyes began to glint up at Guy.
"You're proposing to work against the Sheriff?" Guy's eyes widened in shock once he realized the extent of Catrine's suggestion.
Catrine chuckled, "If the Sheriff is selfish enough to ignore his lieutenant to ensure his own comfort, then why not? This is an insult, Guy, and it must be accounted for. Do it for yourself, for all the times he has spat in your face, insulted your pride, and spurned your wife." She stepped closer to Guy, running her hands up his arms, "Or if not for yourself, do it for Locksley, as lord of the manor," her hands gently touched his face, tracing and knotting her fingers into his dark hair, "Or… if not for Locksley… then do it for me," she whispered just an inch away from his lips.
"Very well," Guy replied as he caught her up in his arms, unable to resist her lips so close to his own. He pulled her closer, pressing himself against her every inch as he kissed her deeper, feeling her sigh and part her lips beneath his.
Then she broke away from his mouth, resting her head against his strong chest. Catrine sighed pensively, "If we do this though, Guy, we must know exactly what the Sheriff plans. We will be gambling on the Sheriff's own gamble, and the price for failure would be… brutal."
Guy's chuckle reverberated through her body. "Only if we get caught, my love," he murmured into her ear. He pulled away from her embrace, "We cannot fail. But how do we plan to intercept Atwood tonight if we don't even know what the Sheriff wants at the orphanage?"
"Leave that to me," Catrine smiled, walking over to her black cloak hanging from the wall and pulling it off its hook. "Women visit orphanages all the time," her eyes flashed as she met Guy's look, "and I think it's time we considered adding a child to our lives, don't you?"
Guy chuckled, took the cloak from her arm and swirled it around her, fastening the golden clasp around her neck. "Such an… honest disguise, isn't it?" he chuckled, bringing the deep hood over Catrine's hair as it partially covered her face.
Her lips smiled from beneath its edge, "Would you like a boy or a girl?"
"I'd like to know exactly what the Sheriff wants at the orphanage, and I'd like to take it right from under his nose… it only serves him right," he spoke softly to her as he drew her close once more, his voice low and raspy through her hood.
"Of course it does, my lord," Catrine whispered back, kissing him again quickly before setting off on the long ride to Sister Agatha's.