is that all good deeds are
when looked at with an ice-cold eye
if that's all good deeds are
maybe that's the reason why
no good deed goes unpunished
I'm wicked through and through
I promise no good deed
will I attempt to do
again. . .
/ Wicked soundtrack -- No Good Deed
3.
Newark Castle: Nottinghamshire, England -- 1193
The folded parchment, one flap lifted where the ducal seal was broken, was regarded closely. It was clasped tight between jeweled fingers as two men studied it, one eagerly, the second with no small hint of disdain. He was an older man with a pointed face and a neatly trimmed salt and pepper beard. His gray eyes narrowed with suspicion.
"Gisborne," he drawled in a tone reserved for idiots and small yapping dogs, "I fail to grasp the reason for your excitement. It's only a missive from Wrothston -- and even at that it looks boring." He tossed the parchment on the table dismissively. "The usual bunch of old wives gossip; who's marrying who and what brat is being carried now, la-de-da-de-da…"
He trailed off in boredom and picked up his knife to wave it at the other man. "Certainly not worth interrupting my lunch over. Now Gisborne, you know where the door is, hmm…"
"But my Lord," the other man, called Gisborne, interrupted. He was younger than the first man, tall and raw-boned. He was dressed in fine leather and his eyes shone clearest sapphire. "I assure you it is important. If you will only read it, you'll see what I mean."
The older man cocked his balding scalp to one side. "Do I look like I care Gisborne? Do I? A clue: no. If you want someone to snivel about who died in Wrothston and such, then hire a town crier. I'm busy, hmm."
Sir Guy of Gisborne shook his dark head. "My Lord Sheriff, this is no ordinary letter. This is from the Duke of Wrothston."
"Fascinating," The Sheriff replied, not looking up from his plate. "Did you suppose I thought it from an illiterate peasant?"
He cut off a piece of venison to chew vigorously before continuing. "So it's a Duke's whelp born, not a serf's? Just means the whelp is richer, hmm. And I still don't care…"
"My Lord, pray hear me out," Gisborne cut in again. "The Duke of Wrothston appears to be well acquainted with the Huntington estate and the Locksley family, that is to say, Robin of Locksley…"
"Good for him. Tell Hood the next time you see him he's got mail."
"…AND Regina of Locksley."
Gisborne stopped, allowing the words to sink in. This managed to get the Sheriff's full attention, something Guy had been attempting unsuccessfully since the Sheriff lost interest in the letter. Interest now miraculously renewed by the mention of Regina.
"Regina of Locksley?" The Sheriff's sharp gaze came to rest on the letter which he scanned absently while he waved his knife again at Gisborne. "Who is that, hmm?"
"From the context of the letter, she appears to be Locksley's sister, sent away when he went to the Holy Land. The good Duke is writing us --Locksley, he believes-- to let us know his dear little sister was well taken care of while he was away and is now coming home." Gisborne tapped the table's surface with a fist as he clarified. "Here. To Locksley Manor."
The Sheriff just stared at him a moment. Then a toothy smirk began to curl across the Sheriff's face. For a moment it was stagnant and something dark and ominous played at the edges of it, then it vanished like a spider scuttling out of the light.
"Ah Gisborne," he said, rubbing his hands together. "A sister is it?"
"Yes My Lord."
"Hood has a sister, hmm. And she's coming here?"
"Yes My Lord."
"And Hood has no idea she is coming?"
"I don't believe he does, My Lord."
"Gisborne why the devil didn't you speak up earlier, hmm? I'm sure you can see how having this information is, how shall we say it -- advantageous."
Gisborne, being relatively sharp on the uptake, realized it wouldn't be to his advantage to point out he'd been trying to share that very information for the better part of the hour and settled for a shrug. "Apologies, my Lord."
The Sheriff ignored him. Tapping the parchment against his bristly chin, he mused, "We must devise a proper homecoming for our sweet young miss. We want to make her very comfortable here in Nottingham -- she'll be staying longer than she knows." He allowed himself a smirk before continuing. "Also we must make absolutely sure Hood knows nothing of her coming. It is essential that she reaches us before either she or Hood have the chance to learn of one another's whereabouts."
"What would you suggest?"
Gisborne studied the Sheriff with unshakable confidence. If there was one thing the Sheriff of Nottingham excelled at, it was cunning. His methods of dealing with Robin Hood in the past proved unsuccessful, but that wasn't a mark against his ingenuity. Rather it was only because Robin was aided by his fearless band of ruffians --and a huge dose of luck-- that he'd so far evaded the noose designated for his neck.
But good luck eventually ran out. And even Robin Hood couldn't continue to hide behind the leafy skirts of Sherwood forever.
"I received a rather interesting missive myself today," The Sheriff said, still thoughtfully tapping the parchment against his chin. "From Prince John. It detailed the itinerary of his trip through the Northern shires. It is expected that he will be journeying to Nottingham within the next fortnight."
"Is this visit unexpected, My Lord?"
"Not really. He generally leaves London once or twice a year to visit the shires, but this time he claims he could not make the trip himself and has sent an ambassador in his place. This works to our advantage because this ambassador should be passing through Sherwood right about the time our sweet young thing heads for 'Home, Sweet Locksley Manor'."
He dropped the parchment back on the table and spun to face Gisborne, having to look up to meet the taller man's eyes. "An expensive coach with a ducal coat of arms would be impossible to hide and twice as difficult to protect, hmm. Hood would be sure to attack it the moment it reached Sherwood. But, fortunately for us, we have a distraction."
"A distraction?" Gisborne rumbled. The Sheriff snapped his fingers.
"Try to keep up, Gisborne. A distraction yes. Normally there is no way the Duke's coach could slip past Hood's gang unnoticed. But Hood will be focusing all his attention on the royal coach, which gives us the chance to seize fair Regina without Hood knowing it."
"But are you sure he'll go after the royal coach, My Lord? What makes you think he won't try for the Duke's coach instead?"
"Simple logic, Gisborne. Hood likes a challenge, hmm? And what could be more challenging than taking on the royal ambassador? The bigger the challenge; the greater the reward. Hood will assume that the royal coach will yield a bigger profit and rightly so. Why go for the small fish when a whale plants itself right in your path?"
"But surely the royal coach will be well armed? Do you really think Locksley will be such a fool as to take on all those soldiers by himself?"
"I have no doubt that Hood will go for the royal coach, soldiers or no. Course either way it works to our advantage. If there are enough soldiers present to arrest him and his men, well and good eh? Just speed Hood on his merry way to the hanging he so richly deserves. But if he escapes, it still serves our purpose. While he is out waving arrows at royal footmen, we will be collecting the perfect leverage to make Hood an offer he can't refuse."
The Sheriff paused then and emitted a rich chuckle. "I say, that was good wasn't it? I should write that one down, hmm."
"But what if Locksley doesn't take the bait?" Sir Guy seemed hellbent upon being an obstructionist. The Sheriff glared at him, a frown line formulating between his bushy eyebrows.
"Then we will give him an incentive, hmm? No such thing as being too cautious." He began to pace around Gisborne in small, confined circles. Gisborne didn't react; he kept standing erect and stiff, eyes directed straight ahead.
"Suppose you let it slip to a few convenient people about our royal visitor, eh? Should arouse interest, suspicion; all that sort hmm? Hood has ears everywhere, hardly a chance he won't hear about it. Bloody outlaw seems to know our business before we do. And just in case Gisborne, send a few guards -- good men, quiet men, out to meet little miss Locksley, hmm. Keep it discreet, we definitely do not want Hood to know why we are there or to follow them to our target. Keep them hidden unless we need them. But they should provide the extra security necessary to get her safely to Locksley Manor should Hood decide to pick the wrong coach to attack."
Gisborne smiled, but it wasn't a pleasant smile. "Excellent plan, My Lord."
The Sheriff waved him off. "Yes well someone has to do the thinking around here Gisborne, hmm? Off you go. Pass our news off to Hood." He stopped and cocked his head to one side, looking amused.
"You know something Gisborne," he continued, stroking his bearded chin in thought. "No good deed goes unpunished, hmm? Hood seems to think he can be all altruistic and play hero in my backyard without fear of repercussions. So I forced him to live in the forest, well la-de-da-de-da! It gets a bit soggy at night, but so what? As much gold as he's filched, he could buy a moderately sized castle by now. No, the reason he plays the brave fearless bandit is because he has never had a reason to fear me before. He knows I don't have the time or the manpower to tear Sherwood apart looking for him."
The Sheriff sat back down and contemplatively leaned back in his chair, pressing the tips of his fingers together. His voice grew mocking. "Hood has never had a reason to fear me because I held nothing he wanted before. And he knows those miserable little peasants he champions will protect him, hmm? Oh yes they love him, indeed they do! 'Cause he's so cuddly and lovable. . ."
He leapt to his feet and placed his face right up into Gisborne's, his mouth frozen in a sneer, revealing flashing white, carnivorous teeth. "Until now, Gisborne. Until now. This time Hood will fear me. He will lay awake at nights, breaking out into a cold sweat, wondering what I am doing to that precious little sister of his. His mind whirling endlessly; haunting him, tormenting him over the many, many horrible possibilities of what I could do to her. His dreams will be the echoes of her defenseless screams." He chuckled cruelly. "Delicious isn't it Gisborne? I can practically taste the fear already."
It said a great deal for Gisborne's constitution that he managed not to flinch with the Sheriff practically breathing down his neck like that. Only practice and plenty of military forbearance had conditioned him not to react to the Sheriff's habit of hovering too close, let alone the irritating way the Sheriff dropped a 'hmm' into every third word he spoke.
"Sounds delightful just as you say, My Lord. You mean to imprison the lady here then, so Locksley cannot get to her?"
The Sheriff nodded vaguely. Turning away from Gisborne, he moved back to the table and leaned against it as if bored.
"Imprison her somewhere; we will work the details out when she arrives I spose. Truthfully Gisborne, I'm rather eager to meet this girl, erm Regina did you say—" at Gisborne's nod, he continued, "—yes well I have a hard time picturing what Hood's sister will be like. A female Hood, hmm? Rather good with a bow, I'd imagine."
Gisborne managed to look impassive. "Perhaps."
"Hmm. Regardless, like I said before Gisborne, no good deed goes unpunished. And its about time Hood had his comeuppance. For deeds done that were a bloody nuisance to us, he is long overdue a good punishing."