14. Heart of a Lion

„I ask the life of Guy of Gisborne," Heather repeated. She raised her chin defiantly. Heavy silence hung in the air like the suspended moment before a falling glass shatters on the ground. Robin turned away from her, his complexion was ashen, his eyes hollow. Little John grunted like a wounded bear. Much cried out, pushed Jaq aside and grabbed Heather's hand.

„My lady, don't ask this, please, I beg you, don't you realize you are breakin' his heart? That man is the devil himself, I tell you! He deserves to die a thousand deaths! Please..." he begged. Heather glanced at him regretfully but her determination remained steady. He must live!

Robin met her glance with a haunted look in his eyes, he ran his fingers through his tawny hair. Then he silenced Much with a single, commanding gesture.

„Much, enough!"

„But Master...!"

„I gave her my word."

„But... Master! He murdered..."

„Shut up, Much." Robin's voice was very quiet. Suddenly he looked tired and worn out, the angles of his boyish face were sharper and his cheeks more sunken. „I won't go back on my given word. I have nothing left but my honour." He drew a deep, shaking breath and turned to Heather. „A life for a life, then. What will you have me to do, Heather of Strelley?"

Heather licked her lips nervously. Her glance darted around at the hostile faces. She choose her words very carefully.

„Whether you believe it or not, I would not ask it from you if it did not mean everything to me. Guy... means everything to me. And only now I realize it. But it must not be too late. Not for him and not for you. Darkness... cannot drive out darkness, Robin. Hunger for vengeance poisons the soul then it consumes everything you believe in." Robin lowered his head, unable to look at her. „You have a good heart. I pray that you shall find forgiveness in it." Heather glanced at the outlaws gathered around her. „And you... all of you, who fought in the name of King Richard so bravely to protect the poor and to defend justice... You should know better. You all have suffered from injustice. You all have lost someone. You should know better that murder only leads to more violence."

„There are victims in every war," ventured Much. There was no power in his voice.

„Is it not enough for you that the blood of the true sons of England soaks the Holy Land? Are you eager to bring war to your homeland as well?" The outlaws backed down from the fierce fire burning in her eyes. Much murmured something under his breath but avoided her stare.

Then a slow smile spreaded across the tanned face of Jaq.

„By Allah, girl," she grunted, „you could save your man alone, with all this warrior heart of yours."

The strain eased. Heather smiled back at her gratefully. Little John exhaled noisily and leaned on his massive quarterstaff.

„Her, I like," he announced suddenly.

„But you don't like the idea of saving Gisborne, do you?" Much mumbled stubbornly.

„No." He chewed every word thoughtfully. „But I shall help, anyway."

„So shall I," said Jaq. The others nodded in silent agreement. Much glanced around then raised his hand in surrender.

„All right, all right. Just don't blame me when it is too late."

Heather sighed with relief.

„Thank you," she said. Her heart was calmer now and her mind was racing more. We need a plan. A very good plan. „Do you know where is he now?"

One of Robin's men, the skinny one named Will Scarlett stepped forward.

„Well, the villagers said the Sheriff had returned to Nottingham last night," he advised. „He brought Guy of Gisborne with him in chains. They say the execution shall take place tomorrow. Whatever you plan to do, we need to hurry."

Execution! Fear gripped her stomach with its icy fingers. She desperately sought solutions but found only one.

„I shall go back to the castle," she offered. „Then I can let you in to save him."

Robin considered her plan. It was simple and practical. He slowly nodded.

„It can be done. Find a way to send a message to us. Go to the market or send a servant if you know a reliable one. We shall be ready to take them by surprise." A faint smile dawned upon his face. „You have the heart of a lion, my lady. Take a horse. Will, you shall escort her back to the edge of the forest."

This was a cruel game to play, Heather thought while she pulled the reins to cross the drawbridge of Nottingham. If my plot fails, if something is to go wrong, Guy will die. Then I will loose him before I have the chance to tell him...

She took care about her appearance before leaving the outlaw camp. She messed up her hair, rubbed dust on her cheeks. Her beautiful, ornamented gown was a wreck, hanging in rags. She found no difficulty in trembling with fear and when she glimpsed the Sheriff marching out the big castle gate, her tears began to flow uncontrollably. She stopped her horse in the middle of the castleyard, slipped down from the saddle and stretched her arms towards Vaisey.

„Please," she cried, „please, help me!"

The Sheriff was stunned for an instant, then he found his voice.

„Ahh, the little bird. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" Mockery, as always.

„Please, Sheriff... the outlaws captured me but I fled. I have nowhere to go, you are my only refuge."

Vaisey glanced behind her back suspiciously.

„Are you alone?"

„Yes," she sobbed. „I stole their horse and rode as fast as the wind. No one followed me I suppose."

„You suppose, eh?" The Sheriff rubbed his chin thoughtfully. A stableboy arrived rushing, Heather handled the rein to him. „I must admit, missy, the sorry state of your... affairs had rather affected my judgement of you. Barnsdale was slaughtered like a pig. Because of you. I lost my mining rights. Because of you. But do you know what is the most sensitive point, my dear girl? I lost the protection and goodwill of Price John, because of this... outrageous wedding! Because of YOU!"

„I... I am so sorry, my lord."

„It's a little bit late for a conscience, isn't it?" he barked angrily. Heather glanced around covertly and she caught a glimpse of Tom loafing about the stables. Her hopes kindled. She bowed her head obediently, contritely.

„I don't know which is worse, lovestruck idiots or wailing women," the Sheriff murmured sullenly. He seemed to make his decision. „Go to your chambers and clean yourself up. And stay there. I tolerate no more disobedience from you."