So...now that the question of Ajsa's origins has been answered, I can explain them a bit. Orosháza is a real city in southeast Hungary. In the Middle Ages, particularly prior to the Mongol Invasion of 1242-1243, it was one of the most important settlements in Hungary, especially in southeast Hungary. Nobles were determined quite differently in early medieval Hungary than elsewhere in Europe at the time. Whereas knights and chivalry were deemed important in medieval Europe, it was land ownership that set apart the nobility from the lower classes in Hungary. Thus, a peasant or a blacksmith could become a noble if the king gave him land. Ajsa's name, as well as her appearance, is a throwback to early medieval Hungary, because it reflects Hungary's eastern/Iranian influence during the early Middle Ages.

fiamma71: Wow, your reviews are incredibly insightful! I actually did not consciously liken Guy to Ajsa during her confession (fathers acquiring land, healer in the family, Guy having "sold" Isabella, etc), short of the fact that both lost their father. But I must have been thinking it subconsciously, because it all fits, haha. So thank you for your reviews; they are always eye-opening. :)

Art Counterclockwise: Yes, Ajsa will eventually capture Gisborne's heart, but it will take time. ;)

williewildcat: Game of chess. Interesting comparison!

AmalieNico: Thank you!


Chapter 7: Harbor

When Ajsa returned from the market, Locksley Manor was a bustle of activity. Thornton, Gisborne's manservant, was hauling a medium-sized trunk downstairs, while Mary was wrapping a loaf of bread in a cloth.

Alan followed Thornton, carrying a much smaller chest. From the way its contents clinked, Ajsa guessed it contained Gisborne's money.

"Has Robin Hood finally reclaimed the manor?" she inquired, only half seriously.

Alan's brows furrowed. "Why d'ya ask that?'

"Because Sir Guy's things are being taken away."

"He's, uh, leavin' for a while," Alan said haltingly. "Actually, we both are."

"Really? Where are you going?"

"I can't exactly tell ya that, now can I?" Alan said, with a wink.

Ajsa frowned. "On the Sheriff's business, then," she deduced. "That does not bode well."

Gisborne descended the stairs, his expression stormy.

"If you're finished flirting with the slave, Alan, we've got places to be," he snapped.

Alan flashed her an apologetic smile and went to saddle the horses. Guy stopped before Ajsa, his features softening the tiniest bit.

"Keep to your duties while I'm gone," he instructed. "Don't even think of trying to escape, because you will be found. And I assure you, the slave-catchers are far less merciful than I am."

"I will not escape," she said tonelessly.

Gisborne smirked. "Don't lie to me, girl. I saw that calculating look when Alan told you we were leaving."

Ajsa's lips twitched, but her face remained the picture of innocence.

"Perhaps you should ration your wine, my lord, for you are surely mistaken."

"Fair warning," he said, shrugging. "If you're caught, don't expect me to rescue you. As it is, you've been more trouble than worth."

"So you remind me daily," she quipped and bent into a curtsey. "Safe travels, Master."

Guy watched her retreat into the kitchen, the barest of smiles lingering on his lips.

#

Dartmouth harbor made Ajsa nervous. She tried to navigate through the port as quickly and covertly as possible, but the hoards of unwashed sailors nevertheless leered at her. She pulled her cloak tighter around her body and kept her head down, wishing for a spell of invisibility.

Ajsa was stepping onto the gangplank of the ship that would carry her to freedom, when a familiar, gruff voice had her stumbling. If the man behind her hadn't gripped her arm, she would have toppled into the water.

"Hurry up, Gisborne, or I'll leave your drunk arse here to rot!"

Her head shot up, her eyes wide with shock.

"Ye all right, miss?" asked the man who had caught her.

She nodded absently, her gaze fixed on the large man following Vaisey off the neighboring ship. His gait was uncertain, as was the Sheriff's, but he looked particularly unwell. Even from a distance, Ajsa noted his greasy hair, unkempt beard, and haggard appearance.

"Yes, I am fine," she answered finally.

The woman was about to continue up the gangplank, but Gisborne's gaze alighted upon her. She froze. The man behind her gave her a gentle push, but her legs refused to work.

And then Guy was striding towards her ship, his expression as murderous as she had ever seen it. Clutching the hem of her kirtle, Ajsa hurried up the walkway, but a hand on her shoulder roughly yanked her backwards.

"Where do you think you're going?" snarled Gisborne in her ear. He was so close that she could feel the prickle of his beard on her neck. "You're not escaping, are you?"

He swung her around, heedless of the curious stares. Ajsa could see just how haggard he was. The black leather that had previously fitted him like a glove hung loosely on his frame. His cheekbones were sharper, accentuating the dark circles beneath his eyes. But it was the hollowness in his gaze that startled her the most. She had known him to be a passionate man, but now, staring down at her, even his anger lacked fire.

"What has happened to you?" she asked.

His brows furrowed, as if he were confused by her question, and a heart-achingly sad look flashed in his eyes. But instead of replying, Gisborne grasped her wrist and led her down the gangplank towards the waiting carriage. The Sheriff, who had been impatiently sitting inside, brightened.

"Ah, the pretty servant," he remarked, his bejeweled tooth glinting in the sunlight. "Not such a good worker, after all, then. I do hope you'll punish her, Gisborne. It may even make you feel better."

Guy grunted and glared through the bars of the carriage as it set off. Ajsa sat uncomfortably beside him, wary of Vaisey's gleeful gaze, and prayed that the next 200 miles would pass uneventfully. However, the current moods of her travel companions suggested otherwise.