Hey guys and gals! I am hoping to make up for the long hiatus of this story by churning out chapters, and hopefully getting some reviews back! (hint hint, wink wink) Here is a WARNING FOR THE CHAPTER: I understand this story is not rated in a very restrictive way, but the following themes may be a bit dark and violent for some. I apologize if it makes you uncomfortable or upset, but I will avoid heavy details. You have been warned!
The Sherriff tossed aside the scrap of parchment as if it were nothing more than a facial tissue. If Gisborne didn't recognize where they were, he would have never thought that sheet was a decree for the killing of three boys. He looked back at the platform in the center of the courtyard. His favorite part was coming and he was no longer afraid to show it in public, even with his wife at attention to his left. The sweat began to creep up from the pores of the hanging victims as an executioner took his place next to them. As burlap covers were placed over their faces, the Sherriff chuckled out witty banter about thieving from Prince John to the public; some of these jokes even began to spread a smile to the Gisbornes. Floorboards dropped, ropes caught tension, and windpipes snapped. As peasants began to shuffle back into town the nobles proceeded back into the stone fortress of Nottingham.
"One life ends, another begins, eh?" The Sherriff grinned, the ruby in his tooth shining with a devilish gleam. He pointed to the overly swollen belly on Lacie. "You had better squeeze that thing out before it bursts out itself." With this, he exited, leaving only armored guards, Sir Guy, and his wife. Guy placed his hands on either side of the woman's stomach that had been distending for just over nine months. Tenderness flowed through his fingers but fire fell from his voice as he commanded the staff.
"I want one of those bodies hanging from the east, south, and west walls of this castle, do you understand? They do not get moved until every person in Nottingham has seen or smelled them rot for their crimes. They will think twice about going against the Sherriff." Guards filed out of the main doors while the castle's second in command pulled his wife into a tight embrace. The black leather of his overcoat clung to the black fabric of her dress as his slid his arms away. With few words left to say, the couple split. He went deeper into the depths of the castle as she exited and climbed her and her child onto her dark haired horse, with the help of a guard, of course. Lacie began her ride to their home at the base of a dirt path in Locksley. Originally, Guy had moved their permanent residence to Nottingham to avoid violence and rumors. He had wanted to shield his delicate love from the harsh reality of the world, but mostly, his job. Their marriage was falling into its second year and his excuses were wearing thin. Little by little the man in black had to begin revealing the truth to her. Some days he would scream and throw objects about the cottage, and on others he would refuse to eat or sleep. He had grown back into the body of brooding she had been warned of when their love began. That, she could handle.
It was the information that trickled in through the outlaws of Sherwood Forest that she despised. Over the past few months she learned about his illegitimate baby, his kidnapping of children, killing of simple merchants and murder of Lady Marian. The slats of a handsome lover he crafted to cover his true self were peeling; sliding down to reveal soulless being within his skin. Lacie had begun to see days where she despised him. Reaching her home, she slid off of the stallion and slammed herself into the front door. She slid down the wall and squeezed her pregnant stomach between her cold and bony hands. She cursed this child and hoped it would not be healthy. Lacie wanted to steal all the joy from her husband just like he had done to her.
That night, twigs snapped down the paths of the forest. Leaves were stamped into the mud as Will Scarlett dashed back to Hood's camp. Dew hung in the air and latched itself to anything it could grab. He wound around the tangled trees and brush until he came into the vision of Robin, who sat perched on a stone by the fire. Will's nod told the leader of the pack what he needed to know.
"How long has it been?" The bearded man asked solemnly.
"About half an hour ago. I think it will take about another hour. Gisborne is already on his way." Will replied. The outlaws mulled it over in silence – Gisborne's child was being born as they spoke.
Guy finally fell asleep. He lay on the very edge of the bed in his wrinkled trousers, arms folded across his bare chest, face filled with serenity from the healthy birth of his son. Lacie stood at the open window staring into the night. Outside the ewerer was hard at work with warm water to wash away the blood and mess from the long and painful birth of the little boy that slept on the other side of the room by his father. The new mother felt her guts boil up with rage and hate. She turned to see the bundled up child slumber away his first few hours of life. His small pink fingers curled over his bottom lip as he mumbled unconsciously, the thin strands of black hair matted to his newborn scalp. This child was a wonderful thing for her. Lacie had been raised to look forward to motherhood and create a home for all the children she could possibly provide. But that murderer did not deserve this baby.
Her gaze drifted over to Guy's shirt that was crumpled in a heap by the door. The cuffs of it were stained crimson with blood. He was collecting taxes this afternoon by Nettlestone when she returned to their home in Locksley and had to assert the law. Her husband rarely covered his tracks anymore; simply he sugar coated the truth, or left out the most graphic details. The Black Knights, dungeon, movement of Prince John – she knew it all. And it made her physically ill. Guy did not deserve this happiness. From the moment he kissed her at that fence post he weaved a charade, a hoax, deceit. The man in black decided to have his cake and eat it too, using an innocent young girl as a pawn.
Lacie made her way to a small wooden table against the wall. There she shuffled through her stitchings and pushed threads aside. Her hand shoved a bushel of honeysuckles to the floor. She remembered the little girl who had given them to her this morning and sneered. 'They are for the baby when it comes,' she said. But the Lady Gisborne felt no joy or reason to bestow anyone with pleasure at this time, or perhaps anytime from now on. Her husband showed hate to every living thing except for her, as if she was his experiment, his outlet for the itch to lie. Her fingers brushed across one of her shining knitting needles and could not help but stroke it to the sharpened tip. Her eyes slid back to the baby boy she had birthed hours ago. Swiftly Lacie picked the needle up into her palm and squeezed it until her knuckles turned white, stepping silently to the woven crib next to her husband's bed.
She would wash away his happiness with blood, just as he had done to so many others.
Guy let out a long sigh and slowly opened his eyes to the vision of his petite wife by his side. He stretched out his strong hand and brushed the side of her dress, grabbing her attention. Their pale eyes met and stayed locked together.
"I love you. And I love our son. And I cannot wait for us to spend our lives together." He whispered in a baritone hush. With this, he dozed back to sleep. For the rest of the night, his wife stayed wide awake.