Sleep? Now, Locksley, where would be the fun in that?
The tempting look on Marian's face, accompanied by her obvious invitation to Hood, made Gisbourne's blood boil over in rage. Forgetting his fear, he wanted nothing other than to kill the pair of them, before Hood could once again possess the beautiful, lying traitor who had been so expert at deceiving him...hurting him...making him care! Betraying him...the worst sin a person could commit.
Consumed by his thirst for murder and revenge, Gisbourne circled the house, looking for a way in. Peering through a ground floor window into the main hall, Gisbourne froze, struck by what he saw.
Lit by dying embers in the fireplace, minor changes to the house where he'd been lord and master for more than five years, had nevertheless transformed it. Gone were the striking black and yellow Gisbourne hangings, replaced by the more soothing Huntington hangings of green and gold, with their shafts of wheat. A cloth, also green and gold, covered the massive dining table, softening the room, which also contained vases filled with fresh flowers.
A woman's touch! Her touch! The realization ate at Gisbourne, stabbing him in his gut.
"You should have been mine! All of this should have been mine!"
His anguish turned to disgust when he saw what littered the floor in front of the hearth. Gisbourne sneered.
A plethora of children's playthings dirtied the room, stealing the authority and respect due to the lord of the manor. Carved wooden animals, qued up two-by-two, seemed headed toward an elaborate wooden ark. Wooden blocks formed towers, ready to be knocked over. A wooden cradle, too small to hold a real child, sheltered a soft, cloth poppet. There was even a toy castle, also carved from wood.
Something within Guy of Gisbourne made him long to destroy these playthings. A memory, quick as a flash of lightning, fueled his disgust.
His own father, a drunken tyrant, hadn't allowed him or his sister any toys. Yet someone in their village of Gisbourne had once slipped Isabella a poppet, much like the one Gisbourne saw in Hood's house now.
Guy had been furious, jealous that Isabella was given something to love, when he had nothing. While his six-year-old sister looked on crying, ten-year-old Guy had twisted the poppet's head off, draining it of its sawdust filling.
It had felt good, much like the satisfaction it gave him now when he killed a man, draining his blood.
And now, if he could only get inside the house, he'd soon be draining Hood's blood!
Rattling a window he couldn't budge, Gisbourne froze again, shocked to see Hood himself, his hair mussed and his shirt untucked, come sauntering down the stairs with one of his brats in his arms.
Had the filthy outlaw taken Marian already? That was quick! When he himself would have the chance to have her, Guy vowed he wouldn't finish with her so quickly!
But Gisbourne misunderstood what had actually happened.
Reaching their bedchamber, Robin had just begun kissing his wife, when Ellen's cries from the nursery interrupted the loving couple.
"I'll go," Robin offered. "Wait for me?"
Marian nodded, knowing how easily Ellen could be soothed. "May I remind you, Robin, I waited for you five years, not to mention all the countless times you've been late," she teased him, fondly. "I'm happy to wait a few minutes, while you take care of Ellie."
"My horsie!" the little girl was crying. "Daddy, I can't find Horsie!"
Ellen's beloved toy was a soft stuffed horse her father had given her before Grace was born. She had loved it so hard, it no longer looked like a horse, but it was beautiful in her eyes.
"Now, let's see where you left it," Robin suggested, picking her up and holding her close. "I think I remember seeing you with him downstairs, before your bath. Shall we go look?"
And sure enough, they found the misshapen, lumpy horse along with the other toys by the fire.
"Master? Is everything alright?"
Gisbourne fumed to see Thornton, dressed in a nightshirt and robe, step respectfully into the room. Other servants, their faces sleepy, followed.
"The crisis is solved. We lost our horse, but it's been found," Robin grinned, kissing the top of Ellen's head. "We can all go back to bed now, I think. Goodnight."
Happy, everyone filed from the room, leaving Gisbourne alone in the dark.
He'd missed his chance. With nearly everyone awake, he didn't dare break into the house.
But this wasn't finished. He vowed never to rest, until he had his revenge.
(Note: To read his revenge, take a look at A Birthday for Much, the very first chapter story I ever wrote, and also And The Lord taketh Away, Part Two, undoubtably the saddest story I ever wrote. I would have liked to have written more action in this tale, but I didn't want to change the events in the stories I already wrote, detailing Gisbourne's evil actions.
Again, Thank you to all my readers and reviewers!)
~FIN~