To say that the servants at Locksley Manor were unprepared for the arrival of a new lord and master would be to seriously understate the case. Thornton was overseeing the chopping and distribution of firewood in a barn near to the manor when he saw Vaysey's carriage rattling up the frozen dirt road. He stood rooted to the spot for a moment, wondering what the weasel-faced man could want with them. The sheriff had already sent his guards through the village to relieve the peasants of nearly every coin they had under the guise of a tax collection, leaving most of them without food and without the means to heat the simple buildings in which they lived. Thornton had done his best to live up to the promise he made to the Earl of Huntingdon when the young lord had left England; a promise to help the villagers as much as he could, but Vaysey was not making it easy. Finally regaining the use of his legs, Thornton rushed to the front of the manor and waited to greet the sheriff.
Sir Guy stared slightly nervously at the village that was now to be his – at least for as long as the Earl of Huntingdon was away. He had no experience with the running of such an estate; a fact that still grated on every fibre of his being. He had seen his father stripped of the land that should have been his to inherit and heard his mother speak frequently of the Gisborne curse -- never more so than in the days before her death. Sir Guy was not a superstitious man -- he was too intelligent for that, but that did not prevent the curse springing into his mind when he thought about finally having land of his own, here at Locksley.
"Cheer up Gisborne. You're nearly home," Vaysey said as that disturbing grin spread across his lips. "Not worried by a gaggle of filthy peasants are you?"
"Of course not, My Lord. It is simply that I have little experience in... such matters." Gisborne replied quickly, determined not to show the apprehension he felt.
Vaysey chuckled.
"Fear, Gisborne! I have found that they are far more co-operative when they are afraid. Hang a few if necessary. A bit of torture, the odd beating...you get the idea. Prove a point. Make your mark. They'll soon comply. Huntingdon was too soft anyway." Vaysey mumbled in an almost dismissive manner. "Ever heard the expression 'You attract more flies with honey than with vinegar'?"
"It was something my mother used to say when I was a boy." Gisborne thought aloud.
"Hmm...women," Vaysey muttered. "Well, it is a fact but ask yourself this. Do you really want to be surrounded by flies? A clue? No!" he declared as the carriage juddered to a halt. Vaysey unceremoniously pushed past his travelling companion and climbed from the carriage. Thornton took a deep breath and approached, ready to speak but suddenly silenced by the appearance of the second man emerging from the curtain-covered doorway; recovering himself he addressed the visitors.
"Good Morning my Lord Sheriff," he greeted, with a slight bow of his head, but without taking his eyes from Vaysey. He knew little of the man but enough to know you never gave him that sort of advantage.
"Thorberry isn't it?" Vaysey asked, caring little whether it was or was not.
"Thornton, My Lord," the old man corrected.
"Yes, quite so," Vaysey responded with a dismissive wave of his hand. "This is your new master." Gisborne hesitated for a moment, but the glare from Vaysey made it clear what was expected. He stepped forward and stared directly into Thornton's eyes.
"Sir Guy of Gisborne," Guy stated simply.
"A pleasure to meet you My Lord," Thornton bowed once again, but his expression displayed no pleasure at all "Welcome to Locksley. May I show you inside?" Thornton did not wait for an answer before he made for the house. Gisborne glanced quickly around, suddenly aware that they were the subject of some scrutiny from the villagers who simply stood staring.
"Idle, Gisborne. That's the problem with peasants. Make sure they don't have time to stand around staring," Vaysey advised before following Thornton. Inside, the furniture was covered over. Thornton quickly removed the coverings from the chairs nearest to the fireplace, at which a young girl was struggling to light the logs.
"Good sized room Gisborne. Perhaps you should host a small gathering for the local nobility. Make your mark. Let them know who's Lord of the Manor, so to speak." Vaysey said, waving his hand about the room as if to emphasize his point.
"Do you think that would be appropriate, My Lord? I am here only to care for the village in the absence..." Gisborne began, but Vaysey rounded on him, bringing his objections to an abrupt halt.
"I should not be too concerned about that Gisborne. I hear that he is with King Richard."
"The Crusades?"
"I imagine there will be many martyrs in the Holy Land. Establish your authority here Gisborne, in case Locksley is one of them."
"But if he is not..."
"It is a long and dangerous journey back from the Holy Land, Gisborne. Anything could happen." Vaysey smiled, a wicked knowing smile that sent a shiver down Gisborne's spine but finally brought him to understand just what sort of a man he had given his life to. "A party then! Three days should be enough to make the arrangement shouldn't it?" the sheriff continued as if his last comment meant nothing at all. "Good. I shall leave you to it." Within moments Vaysey had gone. Guy looked about him at the covered furniture, wanting to pull off the dust sheets but still feeling like an intruder.
"Is there anything I can get for you My Lord?" Thornton asked as he emerged from the shadows. Guy spun around and stared at the old man for a moment before indicating in the direction of the sheets.
"Remove these. If this place is to be ready for a party in only three days there is a lot of work to do." Guy muttered, his voice becoming less audible as he thought of the argumentative, chestnut –haired girl from the council and finally having the chance to meet her.