VI
Ambush
Night brought an advantage to the ship approaching the harbor. The advantage was solely for the passengers, not the crew. Anchoring a ship in the dead of night required sharp eyes and unique skills. In the dark there were no lights and no guidance into the harbor; however, the glow of the moon proved helpful in its own right and the ship was docked without complication.
Hardly was the anchor set down and the ropes tied off when Guy disembarked, the Sheriff close behind him. Guy was like a wolf on the hunt, he moved haphazardly and he constantly kept looking behind him as if paranoid his enemy was right behind him. If he was drunk he was past knowing it, he felt hyper aware of the night around him. Perhaps it had something to do with the unusually restful sleep he had had last night. He found it odd that he had been resting so well on the journey back to England. At first he had feared sleeping; dreading the nightmares that would have surely awaited him. But he could not even remember the last time he had dreamed. He merely slept and woke. It confused him, but he was far from caring over so simple a matter, his waking life provided enough of a nightmare, he had no desire to experience equal misery in his sleep.
There was a tavern close to the harbor and there was still a lantern aglow in the window. The Sheriff signaled that they would wait there for the next ship to arrive. Without acknowledging Vaysey Guy headed towards the tavern. He threw open the door without ceremony. One of the serving wenches gave a shrill scream at the sight of him. Standing aside without a word Guy let the Sheriff and the rest of the crew file in.
"Good evening." The Sheriff grinned oily to the man standing behind one of the far tables in the corner, "We'll be requiring lodgings for the night."
"O-o-of course, my lord!" The man said as soon as he managed to unstick his tongue.
The Sheriff carelessly dropped a large satchel onto one of the tables before him. The satchel clinked with the friendly sound of coins. "I believe this should be sufficient?" Vaysey drawled.
Immediately the man seemed to warm to the unexpected guests. He picked up the satchel, brought it to his ear and shook it to reassure himself of the coins inside. "Much obliged, my lord." he said with a grin, quickly looping the satchel onto his belt. "The rooms are right upstairs." He turned to one of the serving wenches, the one who had screamed, "You there, bring food and wine for our guests."
The woman jumped and went about her orders. While the wench was back in the kitchens and the man was once again seated at his corner table, busying himself counting his newly acquired coins the Sheriff and Gisborne also took a seat. "How long until the ship docks?" Guy barked roughly.
"The Captain said it was not but a few hours behind us." Vaysey explained briefly. "He has also agreed to help us with our 'outlaw problem.'" He grinned.
"But they're sailors." Guy said, confused.
"Men can become anything if the price is to their liking." The Sheriff shrugged, tapping his fingers upon the table top.
The serving woman returned with a tray full of bread, stew, and wine. She served the sailors first, making her way around them slowly, almost deliberately stalling for time. She endured their lewd calls and their attempts to grab at her almost as fast as they grabbed for the wine she was carrying.
Eventually she made her way over to the Sheriff and Gisborne. She placed the food and drink before Vaysey and averted her eyes when she went to serve Guy. Guy snatched at the offered wine, but rejected the food. The girl did not seek to persuade the man and swiftly took back the plate and bowl and scurried out of sight again.
The Sheriff chuckled, sipping at the wine daintily, "Look, Gisborne, it appears you've made a friend." he chuckled sarcastically as the woman fled.
Glaring at him darkly, Guy downed the goblet of wine in a blink of an eye. It was hardly anything. He would probably need more later. The Sheriff shook his head as if guessing his thoughts, "No more, Gisborne, I need you alert tonight. I can't have you fainting like a woman."
He was alert. He was more alert and awake then he had ever been in his life. In direct defiance to his lord's request he gestured for the serving girl to come over to him. She did so timidly and he could tell whenever she dared to glance up at him it was with repulsion and fear. He held out the goblet for her to refill with wine. She did so silently and without further command. She skittered away again. He scared her; somehow that amused him. He downed the second glass of wine with little effort. "Fine, Gisborne, do what you will, but if you do collapse do not expect me to carry you all the way back to Nottingham."
Guy smirked, he felt in good humor tonight. Robin Hood was coming closer and closer with each passing minute. Why shouldn't he be elated? He was going to win this time, there would be no way of stopping him. He would capture his enemy, drag him back to Nottingham, and make him pay...make him pay for everything that had happened.
He craned his head back around to stare at the serving girl. She happened to look up and something about the crazed look in his eyes must have frightened the living soul right out of her, for she dropped the dish she had been cleaning and it fell to the floor with a crash. Hastily she bent over to recover the broken shards of the ruined dish, almost grateful of the accident. The man berated her loudly for her clumsiness, but soon forgot about her mishap.
Guy watched the woman leave to throw out the plate shards. The woman was not entirely ugly. The night was going to be a long one, maybe she could be put to good use later. Immediately the thought was chased out of his head by images of Marian. His hands balled into clenched fists as he fought down a wave nausea and grief. Nevermind; in his crazed state he blamed the serving wench for bringing up memories of Marian. Forget using the girl, maybe he would content himself with breaking her neck instead.
***
Allan practically ran down towards the docks as he disembarked from the ship. He dashed passed the rest of the gang in his need to feel good, solid, sturdy land again. He reached the docks and fell to his knees; laughing. "Never in my life am I leaving England again if it means sailing on that floating death trap. Never again d'you lot hear me? Oh Lord, s'good t' be home."
"We aren't home yet, Allan." Much remarked with far greater solemnity than his friend.
It felt strange to arrive in England in the dead darkness of midnight, sneaking back home like thieves in the night. This should have been a moment of triumph. They should have been hailed as heroes, with the Sheriff and Gisborne dead in the Holy Land and Marian at Robin's side, celebrating with the rest of them. Now all about them was darkness and the cheers of victory were no more than the howling dirge of the wind around them.
Robin was bleary eyed from lack of sleep, yet his resolve was stronger than ever. Find the Sheriff and Gisborne and kill them. How he did not yet know, but he would not wait for the King's justice. He would see them die like the dogs they were. Robin tightened his grip on his bow, feeling the tendons in his hands and arms go taunt. He swallowed his rage for now, and slung the bow across his back.
"Robin." Little John grunted. "There's another ship docked nearby."
Robin turned to look at where Little John was pointing. The ship seemed like any other. Besides this was a harbor, where they supposed to be the only ships docked? Hardly likely. Robin shook his head. "This is a harbor, Little John, what did you expect to find? Think nothing of it."
"Are we going t' find lodgings for the night?" Allan asked.
"What? To tired to start marching back to Nottingham already, Allan?" Robin jeered.
"Look, I was just suggesting that...."
"Keep your mouth shut." Robin hissed.
"If it's going t' be like this from now on why keep me here, eh?" Allan snapped.
Little John banged his staff upon the wooden beams of the dock, "Enough." He said gruffly, "There's an inn nearby. Maybe if you two hadn't been at each others throats you would have noticed it."
Much cleared his throat nervously trying to salvage the gang's unity, "Come on, least we can do is check it out. I think we could do for a rest."
"Ain't you forgetting the fact that we don't have any money?" Allan sniffed.
"If the landlord is awake at this hour we camp elsewhere. If not I see no reason why we can't intrude upon his hospitality unawares?" Robin suggested with a sigh.
"Ye mean you want to jip 'im out of a night's rent?" Allan asked.
Robin nodded. Allan actually grinned, "Sounds like a plan."
With all the gang in agreement, Robin led them away from the docks towards the small, seaside village and the tavern inn near the outskirts. The lantern was still burning, but the flame was growing dimmer with each passing moment. Robin pushed open the doors gently and quietly, but even with his extra caution the doors creaked slightly, each noise seemed a hundred times louder to the gang's ears, causing them to wince at the sound.
Robin peered inside. The tables were deserted save for one, occupied by the landlord and he was fast asleep with a bottle of wine in one hand and a satchel of coins in the other. Seeing that they were clear to enter, Robin signaled for the others to file in after him.
The tavern was warm and seemed like heaven after being cooped up in small rickety cabins for nearly two months. The gang settled themselves down around one of the tables. They would sleep in shifts, each shift would watch the landlord for signs of waking. If the landlord woke the man on guard would wake the others and they would be gone before any knew of their presence.
Allan leaned back against the chair, putting his feet up onto the table. He sighed gratefully, closing his eyes. Much took a seat next to him, burying his head in his arms he seemed to drift off to sleep instantly. Little John glanced about warily, he had been on his guard since he had first caught a glimpse of the ship docked beside their own. Slowly though his head nodded and he fell asleep still sitting up in his chair.
Robin was on first watch. He did not sit, instead he paced around the room, quietly, but like a caged lion. He would probably not sleep at all tonight. He was needed here, and dreams only brought with them misery upon misery. He did not expect much trouble and he was almost lulled into a state of waking peace as he paced back and forth and back and forth...
***
Guy felt jarred awake by some unexplainable force. Someone was sitting near him in the room. He blinked, the features of the inn's room were oddly distorted, as if he could not focus in on any one thing at all.
Perched in a chair sat the hooded woman who was staring at him with her shrouded head tilted to one side. Can you see me? She seemed to be asking of him.
Was he dreaming? He must be. He rubbed his eyes as if to clear them, but the faded and blurry images stayed as they were. This must be a dream if the hooded woman was sitting with him. He was quite close to her, and yet he still could not see her face. That bothered him, he could feel ice fall down his spine as he looked at the faceless woman.
Can you see me? She asked again.
Guy nodded that he could. "What do you want?" He croaked.
What do you want? She retorted with emphasis.
"For you to go away." Guy growled.
If I could I would. The woman answered.
"You will. I intend to ignore you until you disappear." Guy said, falling back down against the bed.
When I try that with you you don't disappear. The woman seemed to be laughing at him.
Guy did not respond, he rolled over onto his side, facing away from the woman. He heard the woman sigh. For a time there was no sound, and Guy thought the woman had disappeared as he had planned. He turned over to check, only to find that the woman was leaning over the side of the bed slightly, one arm outstretched slightly as if she was reaching for him. She recoiled from him immediately as if she had extended her hand over an open flame.
No more dreams. She seemed to say in a shaky voice. Her hands went to either side of her head, as if she was in some minor pain. No more, she said again, as if wishing for something to end.
Suddenly the dream shifted and the woman was gone in a blink of an eye. He felt himself slipping back into a comfortable and quiet darkness. He awoke with a start although he did not know why. He had slept without nightmares, or if he did dream he found he did not remember any of it.
He practically rolled off of the bed. He had not meant to fall asleep. He was supposed to be on guard. From beyond the door he heard a slight commotion going on outside. He opened the door a crack, peering out down the dimly lit hall. The serving girl from earlier that evening was being backed into a corner by two of the sailors, both obviously drunk. The girl was clutching her chest as she tried desperately to conceal herself, her dress had apparently ripped in a previous scuffle.
She cowered on the floor near the wall, huddling against herself and shaking in fear. The two men laughed, lust was heavy in their blood shot eyes. There was no doubt as to their intentions towards the woman.
"Leave her alone." Guy said in slurred, rough speech.
The two sailors stopped their assault momentarily, turning to look at Guy. "'S ain't yer business." One said. They turned their attentions back towards the woman.
"I said," Guy growled, striding over to the men and wrenching one away from the girl by grabbing his wrist, "leave her alone."
"We don't want any trouble, now." The sailor warned.
"Then get back to your rooms." Guy ordered. "Now."
The sailor wrenched his wrist out of Guy's grasp. "All right, all right," he slurred, raising his hands in submission. "We're going...ain't worth our time anyway."
As the sailors retreated to their rooms Guy remained with the woman. "Get up." He grunted, unmoved by her fright. He didn't quite know why he had bothered to help the woman in the first place, but something in the predatory way the sailors had advanced on her had roused some amount of repulsion in him. He had merely wanted to deter the sailor's perverse fun, not aid the victimized woman.
The serving girl rose to her feet, head lowered. Guy took a step towards her, and she immediately back away from him. Perhaps she assumed he had only wanted her alone so that he might have her all for himself, she had had experience in those matters before. "I am not going to hurt you." Guy snapped unconvincingly.
She continued backing up, getting dangerously close to the stairway. "Come away; you'll fall." Guy warned.
"Keep away from me!" The girl finally shrieked, nearly loosing her balance in the process.
Guy reached out instinctively to steady the woman on her feet. Couldn't she tell he didn't care enough about her to bother hurting her? But what good what it be if she fell down the stairs and broke her neck merely out of spite towards him?
The woman wrenched backwards away from him for fear he might think to touch her. She fell; tumbling head over heels down the staircase. She never had a chance to scream. She lay crumpled and awkward at the base of the stairs. Guy felt the world spin before his eyes. The woman had fallen down the stairs rather than let him help her up. She had hated him that much. I would rather die than be with you, Guy of Gisborne! Marian's haunting words rang through his heads like a taunting laugh. It was true. She had been right; everyone would rather die then be near him. Was he that damned and despised?
He felt as if he would be violently ill. He placed a hand upon the wall to steady himself. The woman was dead, no doubt. Her head was tilted at an unnatural angle and one of her legs bent in an inhuman position. She was dead. He had killed her. That was all he was good for; killing. Foolish of him, to even try and help that woman. He would never attempt anything like it again.
As the sickening feeling passed, his common sense returned. He would have to move the body. He could not let it just sit there upon the stairs to await discovery by the landlord. Cautiously he made his way down the staircase, feeling each step as another measure deeper into Hell.
He pulled the contorted corpse of the woman away from the lantern's glow and into the shadowy safety of the stairwell; fighting down the taste of bile as it rose in the back of his throat. It was then that he heard the door to the inn creak open. Hastily he pulled himself around the corner to avoid detection.
Even though the sound of whispered voices was curious, Guy dared not risk peering around the corner to see the late guests. He heard the scrapping of chair legs and surmised that they had no intention of making their way up to the rooms. He was safe for now.
One sound did remain contest and that was the continued sound of footsteps as they paced back and forth. For the most part there was not further noise. Guy was trapped. He could not walk back up the stairs without alerting the stranger of his presence. He waited for a time; until he was certain he heard the heavy breathing of sleep and that the pacing had at last ceased.
Now he turned his head, only a little, to see who the intruders were. Three men were asleep around a table, heads buried in their arms; there was no recognizing them. Another man sat off in the corner, and he was wide away and staring.
Guy's eyes widened. Who should he find unwary, tired, and unguarded this late at night but Robin Hood himself? He transferred the remainder of his guilt towards his unintentional murder of the serving woman into rekindled anger towards Robin. Something animalistic unleashed itself within him. He drew forth the small, curved, dagger he always kept with him and slowly he emerged from his hiding place.
Robin's back was towards him so he moved unnoticed. His heart was pounding loudly and he could hear it in his ears. He must restrain himself. He could not kill him now, but oh, how tempting it was! There was no one to stop him from slitting Robin's throat here and now, but he remembered his promises of giving Robin a slower death then a mere execution. That would be far more satisfying.
Licking his lips anxiously Guy loomed like a demonic shadow over Robin, knife raised as if to deliver a killing strike. Instead Guy merely pressed the sharp, cold blade up against Robin's neck, careful to only draw a droplet of blood. He heard Robin inhale sharply in sudden panic. Guy smirked, "Gotcha." he hissed murderously.
Now I can sleep for days. I've been up practically four days straight, subsisting on about three hours of sleep a night...hurriedly trying to finish this chapter and finish a few other chapters for other stories and fics. There will be errors I'm sure in this chapter...I will edit them later. XD I do apologize for the delay in getting this chapter posted; Thanksgiving holiday threw me off track, but I will do my best to get back on schedule for you. :)
As always, remember to review!