Chapter Fourteen
Marian brushed the snow off her red riding hood and took a step back to hide the gnawed-off Sheriff's leg that was still on the ground. "Sir Phillip! We were just . . ."
"Making snow angels," Guy supplied, folding his hands in front of his swollen region.
"Snow angels! How thrilling!" Phillip exclaimed excitedly and bounced a bit. Then he gave them a stern look. "But you should have waited for me. Making snow angels is far more fun when it's a . . ." Phillip paused while he counted on his fingers. "One . . . two . . . four . . . three – when it's – a threesome!"
I would so love to cram a wedge of cheese down his throat, Guy thought, clenching his fists. But he'd probably just swallow it and demand more.
Allan, who had been alarmed to see Phillip heading outside to the spot where Guy and Marian were ankle-deep in more ways than one (not that he'd been watching from an upstairs window, or anything), trotted outside after him.
"Sir Phillip, we were actually about to go back inside." Marian stepped toward that young gentleman, allowing Guy to bend down behind her and snatch up Vasey's leg and wind it back up in the burlap. "Won't you come inside for a nice snack?"
"Oh, I say, a snack! That does sound good," Phillip chirped. "What did you have in mind?"
"Leg of lamb?" Marian blurted out.
"Nonsense, Lady Marian. We've got some very nice Limburger cheese in the larder," Guy said with a straight face. "Or perhaps some blue-veined Gorgonzola."
"There's some filet of sole, I think," Allan said in his own voice, striding up to Phillip, "but I think it's gone rotten. Maybe the turkey thigh?"
"But no veal," Marian added with a smirk. "It's very cruel to the calves."
Phillip, not one to be left out of a conversation about food, piped up, "And maybe some Ricotta on toast? But do see that the cook cuts the heel off the bread like Mum does."
"No knee to worry, Sir Phillip! The cook keeps this joint runnin' hip-shape," Allan assured him with a cheeky grin.
"Very true, Allan; the cook is a most invaluable appendage to the castle staff," Marian said.
Phillip could not help feeling that there was something going on that he was unaware of. This sensation usually made him hungry, so he said, "Yes, all that sounds very tasty. I think I will have a little something . . ."
************************************************************************
Phillip had indulged in a heartening mid-morning snack, which helped him shake off that strange inkling that there was something happening that he didn't quite fathom. When he rose from the table, he was steered into the hallway by Allan, who had arranged for his belongings to be packed neatly and placed by the door.
"What's this? Time to leave already?" Phillip inquired, startled. "But I've been having such fun here in Nobblingham."
"We – will miss you terribly," Marian enunciated carefully, biting her lip. "It has been . . . delightful."
"Oh, but we shall meet again soon, shan't we?" Phillip said with a dreamy smile.
"We shall?" Marian asked, puzzled.
"Of course, my lady, for I believe we must both be present for the wedding. At least, I think that's how it works. And then you'll come and live with me forever!" said Phillip, hopping up and down animatedly. "And perhaps we shall even have . . ." he spoke, lowering his voice to an excited whisper, ". . . pillow fights! Every night if we want!"
Guy glowered. It is impossible that she will choose to marry Phillip . . . isn't it? He tried in vain to block the image of the two of them pillow-fighting.
"Of course, Sir Phillip," Marian replied, taking the nobleman by the arm and leading him into an unoccupied guards' chamber off the hallway. "I am very much looking forward to being Lady Dunghill." As she walked off with Phillip, she threw the stunned Guy a look back that was supposed to reassure him, but since Guy was not familiar with reassurance, he did not comprehend the visual message, and was therefore even more troubled.
Allan tried to comfort Guy by placing a hand on his shoulder, but, again, comfort was a foreign concept to him, so he shook his manservant off and stormed outside, where the sun was now melting the snow very quickly. "Leave me alone!" Guy barked, shoving Allan into the wall.
"Oww!" Allan cried, rubbing his shoulder and following Guy into the vacant, slushy courtyard, where he stood beside a barren tree. "What was that for, then? Just because your girlfriend's gone off to marry some other bloke, you wanna take it out on me? Well, I'm not gonna stand fer it anymore. Not without a significant increase in pay, and a dental plan with a low premium."
"NOT NOW, ALLAN!" Guy roared, then began massaging the bridge of his nose. "Do you not understand what I have lost?" he mumbled into leather-clad fingers.
"Well, you still have me," Allan said in his half-joking way. "I know I'm not half so pretty in a shepherdess costume as she is, but I've never 'ad any complaints, either."
"You are not getting dental," Guy muttered, sniffing back eye moisture that was nothing like tears.
"Alright, fine, no dental. Not like Nottingham dentists do anything that a good pair of plyers can't," Allan kidded. Then he grew serious again. "But I'm worth at least . . . thirty percent more to you."
"You must be joking," said Guy, looking up with reddened eyes. "Ten."
"Twen'y," Allan countered.
"Five."
"Okay, fifteen!" Allan protested.
"Very well, fifteen," Guy grumbled. "But I will take the difference out of your hide if you do not leave me alone this instant!"
Allan, instead of buggering off, posed stubbornly with his fist on his hip. "Guy, you'll take it out of me hide one way or another, anyway. So I might as well stay and cheer you up a bit."
Guy glared fiercely at his manservant. "Cheer me up? And just how do you think you're going to do that, Allan? A puppet show?"
"Geez, fine, I'll think of somefin' else, then." Allan paused. "How about . . . a hug?"
"A what?" Guy asked uncomprehendingly, as if Allan had suggested they splash around in the excrement heap for jollies.
"A hug," Allan replied, holding his arms out in demonstration. "It's where you stand there, and I put my arms around you like this, and then I kind of apply pressure, and it's sorta comfortin' like."
"I don't understand," Guy growled. Is this what I think it is? Well, if I can't have Marian . . .
"Jesus Christ, Giz, I was just teasin', anyway," said Allan, with a twinge of hurt in his voice.
"Oh. Right." Guy punched his fist into the unfortunate tree, then clenched his teeth together. Why did I have to do that? Guy thought. This is why I have servants. They're much softer than tree bark. "How can she marry Dunghill after – after – well, anyway, he's a – a –"
"Hey, she was gonna marry Robin Hood, too, and look how that turned out," Allan offered.
Guy looked sharply at him. "Do you think that she will change her mind about Dunghill?" He stepped over closer to Allan so that he could look directly down on him, and gripped his arm tightly.
"I dunno. I just know that she'd be crazy not to – I mean – if I were – I mean . . ." he trailed off. "Look, I just mean to say . . . that she's makin' a huge mistake."
Guy shook his head. "No. She's right not to want me. I am a cursed man. She deserves better than me," he said despairingly. "But better than Dunghill, too. I mean, really."
"Well, she couldn't do better than you, could she? I mean, curse or no, you're pretty much the biggest catch in Nottingham now, ain't ya?" Allan reminded him. "Plus, I don't think Marian believes in curses. Believes they're just 'fatalistic fantasies that inhibit us from pursuing open-minded scientific investigation to explain natural phenomena' or somefin' like that."
"Do you understand half the things she says?" Guy asked. "Because I don't."
"You and me both, Giz."
The men suddenly smiled at each other. On Guy's side it looked more like a sneer, but it was still a nice moment. He realized that he still had someone.
"What?" Allan asked, suspicious when Guy's smile did not instantly disappear. "I got somefin' in my teeth?"
"Not yet."
"Huh?"
"Allan, about this 'hug' . . ."
"Yeah?"
Guy eyed Allan uncertainly. "I would . . . like to try it."
"Wot?"
Guy sighed impatiently. "THE HUG. I will do it."
"Guy, I told you, it was just a joke," Allan protested. He ducked, thinking Guy was about to strike him, and nearly fainted when Guy's arms softly encircled him. "Oh . . . okay," Allan stammered, then reached around and patted Guy's back. "There you go now."
Guy ground his face into Allan's neck and pelted it with hot tears. They stood there a moment, intertwined awkwardly. Guy's sword hilt pressed itself into Allan's ribcage.
"She . . . chose . . . him," Guy whispered.
"There, there, now. If that's true, then she deserves him, don't she?" Allan murmured.
Guy sniffled and nodded unsurely.
"That's right, Giz! You're gonna bounce back! You're gonna find someone new!" said Allan, slapping Guy encouragingly on the shoulder.
Guy gradually looked up, and at last Allan could see his tear-stained face.
"There now, don't you feel bet- whoa!" Allan jerked away suddenly. "That's not your sword!"
************************************************************************
Marian sweetly batted her eyelashes at her betrothed. "Oh, Phillip . . . I may call you that, mayn't I? Now that we're engaged, I mean." She squeezed his arm enthusiastically.
"Of – of course, Lady – I mean, Marian! I am so very happy. Mum will never believe it!" Phillip exclaimed, his eyes shining. "There's so much to do for the wedding. There must be cheesecake, of course . . ." He started to salivate a little at the thought.
"Cheesecake?" Marian asked, suddenly stern. "Why, Sir Phillip, you haven't forgotten that I do not eat dairy products?"
Phillip deflated visibly. "Oh, yes, of course . . . but you needn't eat it if you don't like, my little yogurt cup." He gazed at her as if she were a very pretty lunatic. How can the lady get on without cheese? "I will eat your slice for you."
"About that . . ." Marian knitted her eyebrows together.
"Er, yes?" Phillip said, suddenly feeling beads of perspiration forming on his face. Her tone alarmed him.
"I don't think it's fair that you should eat dairy when I do not. If we are to be married, we should do everything together. And if I cannot do something, then you cannot, either." Please let this work! Marian prayed that Phillip's love of cheese would prove stronger than his feelings for her.
"Oh, dear! My – dear! I – oh, dear!" Phillip faltered. Not eat cheese? Me?
"Well?" Marian asked, folding her arms across her chest and cocking an eyebrow at him. "Don't you agree, Phillip, darling?"
Phillip dabbed at the torrent of sweat that was welling up on his forehead. "My lady, please, do not ask it of me . . ."
"Surely if you truly care for me, it will be but a little thing to give up!" Marian said, pouting.
"But Marian! It is cheese," Phillip pleaded. "A day without cheese is like a day without . . . well . . . cheese!" he cried passionately.
"Then what can we do?" Marian said, doing her best to look puzzled. "I'm sure I don't know."
Phillip flipped his sweat-soaked fringe of hair out of his eyes. "My lady – ahem – perhaps . . . perhaps I acted a bit ha- hat- hast- hastily . . ."
Marian's eyes grew round. "You mean –" Her lip trembled. She was very good.
"I think perhaps I ought to take some time to think this over," Phillip said, summoning all his dignity. "The priest says that marriage is a very sullen thing and not to be done lightly."
"Solemn."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Solemn, not sullen," Marian said, suppressing a smirk.
"Yes, just as I said," said Phillip. "And Mum says you can't hurry love. 'Phillip,' she says, 'you just have to wait. Love and cheese don't come easy.'"
Marian sighed. "You are very wise, Sir Phillip. I can't argue with that." She tucked her arm into his and led him back out into the hallway. "I do have something I want to give you before we go, just to show that there are no hard feelings."
"A present? For me? Why, that is very thoughtful of you, my lady," said Phillip, looking much relieved. "I shall give Prince John a very nice report about you and Sir Guy and the Sheriff. You're ever so kind and sym . . . sympathetic."
Marian stopped him abruptly, clutching his arm. "Umm – perhaps the less said to Prince John about the Sheriff's kindness, the better."
Seeing that the hallway was empty and that the door leading onto the courtyard was open, they stepped outside into the bright sunshine.
************************************************************************
"Hands! Hands!" Allan squeaked.
Guy let go and Allan pulled away, stunned. Guy's face was reddening as he stared hard at the cobblestones.
"Hey, this is sexual harrassment, and I don't have to take it!" Allan asked. "I mean, if you think I'm gonna forget about my raise, you're barmy."
Guy looked up angrily. "Is that all you care about?" he snarled.
"No, o' course not. But if you think I'm gonna put up with bein' treated like a piece o' meat, then . . . okay, you're right. But I'm gonna need my own office with a window."
"Fine."
"Really? I mean –"
Just then, Marian and Phillip's arrival broke off their negotiations. "Guy! Sir Phillip and I have some news for you!" she shouted down to the two men.
How can she be so cheerful about marrying that oaf? thought Guy, clenching his fists.
"We are not getting married after all, but I am going to give him a kitten to take back to Dunghill," Marian informed them as she and Phillip carefully made their way down the last of the slippery steps.
"Uhh . . . what?" Guy asked, throwing a confused look at Allan.
"You know, the black and white one that looks like a cow," Marian said, then turned to Phillip. "But you must remember not to try to milk it," she reminded him gently.
************************************************************************
Sir Phillip of Dunghill happily climbed into his carriage, carefully cupping the tiny black and white kitten, which had been named Lactica by Lady Marian, in his gloved hands. Lactica mewed contentedly, having just been fed some delicious sweet milk by her new friend. At last he had found someone who shared his love of dairy.
Allan reached through the carriage window and carefully tied the document bearing the Sheriff's seal to his wrist with thread. "There you go, mate."
Phillip sighed as he smiled down at his new friends. "Oh, what a lovely weekend this has been! It is such a pity I have to go home."
Marian stepped forward and handed him a large hunk of cheese. "Here is a little something for your journey, my lord."
Even Guy, who was hoisting up the now one-legged Sheriff, had a warm smile for Prince John's representative. He had never been so happy to see someone go away (except Winchester, but he didn't "go away" so much as "get stabbed with Guy's knife"). "Farewell, Sir Phillip. We shall . . . feel your absence most keenly."
"Come back and see us again soon, my lad," said Allan-as-Vasey. "But not too soon, eh?"
Phillip sniffed back a tear. "Mum will be so proud of me! And perhaps Prince John will grant me a promotion. I have done rather a splendid job, haven't I?" And with a bite of cheese, he was off.
************************************************************************
Marian had returned to her room to check on the kittens. Now that Phillip was gone, she was forced to think about what would happen once Sir Jasper returned. The Sheriff would still be dead a month from now, so all their efforts this weekend had merely been a stall. She picked up the orange kitten and tickled its small belly as it tried to gnaw on her finger.
Suddenly an arrow with a rope attached whizzed past her and embedded itself into her bedpost, missing her head by only a few inches. By the Virgin, Robin, haven't you destroyed enough of my things?
The celebrated folk hero appeared at her window a few moments later. Marian's chin dropped. Her ex-fiancé was wearing an eyepatch, a green vest and pantaloons, a false peg leg (courtesy of Will), and bore a woodcock on his shoulder, that being the closest he could get to a parrot on short notice.
"What . . . are . . . you . . . wearing?" asked Marian. "Robin, you look ridiculous. And you're copying my look."
"Yeah, isn't it absolutely tits?" Robin preened, checking himself out. "I came to tell you about my new plan."
Marian rolled her eyes and groaned. "Not another one of your brilliant plans . . . Please tell me this one does not involve ruining my bed sheets."
"Not at all!" Robin said as he helped hoist Much, who was wearing a striped shirt, a bandana, and a silver hoop earring, through the window. "I'm going to become a pirate."
"A pirate?" Marian asked doubtfully.
Robin and Much assisted Will and Djaq through the window. Will was wearing a puffy-sleeved shirt and very tight pants, and Djaq was dressed similarly to Much, except that she wore a low-cut peasant blouse instead of a striped shirt.
"Good day, Marian. I trust everything has worked out well with Prince John's representative?" asked Djaq.
"Oh, yeah, that. How'd that turn out?" Robin asked, heaving at the rope. In a moment Little John was trying to squeeze his hulking frame through Marian's tiny window.
"Just fine, as a matter of fact," Marian said proudly. "We've saved the day. At least, for now."
"Good, good," Robin said, not really paying attention. He looked at Little John with annoyance. "John, I'm supposed to have a bird! We can't both have one! I'm the Pirate King! There can be only one!"
"This plan I do not like," said Little John gruffly, ignoring Robin. He was wearing a ruffled blouse with a black velvet vest and matching trousers, and some ridiculously tall black boots. He also bore a stuffed bird on his shoulder.
"Oh, come on, man! This will be an adventure! For England!" Robin cried.
"For England!" shouted Much with his fist in the air, trailing off at the end as he realized no one else was doing it.
"So . . . let me understand this," Marian said slowly. "You are going to stop helping the people of Nottingham and become vicious thieves?"
"On the ocean!" shouted Much gleefully, throwing his hands up in excitement.
"Pirates, Marian," Robin corrected her. "Now that the Sheriff's dead, King Richard doesn't need us to protect Nottingham anymore. We'll roam the high seas and be pirates. But, like, noble pirates. We'll steal from the rich merchants and give to the less wealthy ones!"
"Pardon?" faltered Marian.
"It's going to be a thing, you'll see," insisted Robin. "People will remember me as the biggest booty pillager of all time!"
"Hurrah!" cheered Much.
"Robin Hood, scourge of the high seas?" Marian asked skeptically.
"Well, I haven't decided on a name yet. I was thinkin' maybe Dread Pirate Robin, or possibly Robin the Altruistic Robbing Sailor. I haven't quite got it all worked out yet, all right?"
"I still like Robin and his Potent Seamen, myself!" ejaculated Much.
"What about Lint Beard?" Marian teased.
"We wanted to say good-bye to you before we set sail," said Djaq, interrupting their banter. "We will miss you, Marian."
"That we will." Little John giving her arm a friendly squeeze, and Robin used this moment to knock the bird off his shoulder.
". . ." said Will, which Marian interpreted as, "Take care of yourself."
"I will, Will," Marian replied. She giggled. "Your name is Will!"
Will smiled in response, as if to say, "I have always thought that was rather funny, myself."
Robin coughed. "About my engagement ring . . ."
Marian shot him a look. Really?
"I'm sorry, it's just that I wanted to use it to help raise funds for buying our pirate ship," Robin told her.
"Of course. Just let me get it for you." Marian reached into her extra chamber pot where she had hidden the ring, snatched it out and handed it to Robin. "There. Good luck, Robin. And all of you."
"Good luck to you, too, Marian," Robin said, blowing her a cheeky kiss, then disappeared out the window. The others smiled at her and Little John gave her a big bear hug before they took their turns climbing back out the window.
"Good-bye, Robin," Marian whispered with a little smile.
************************************************************************
"I think we can go deeper than that, Allan," said Guy, shirtless and panting, as he stood behind his manservant.
"If we keep at this, we'll end up right in hell!" Allan rejoindered.
"Come on, Allan, you don't really believe that, do you?" Guy sneered, bending down again for one more thrust with his instrument.
"Well, it's, like, metaphorical, I think," said Allan, blotting his forehead with a cloth. "But I can't keep goin', Guy. I'm all out o' breath."
"Pansy."
"Am not! I'm the one takin' all the heavy load, ain't I?"
"Shut up and put your back into it," growled Guy as he leaned over to shovel some more dirt out of the hole he and Allan were digging to bury the Sheriff's festering corpse. "We've got to make sure nobody ever finds the body, or we're all . . . uh . . . dead men," he said, eyeing Vasey's remains, which were laid out on the ground above them.
Allan sighed dramatically, bent down, and heaved another shovelful of earth out of the pit that was now almost above their heads. The ground was still partially frozen hard, and their bodies (Guy & Allan's, not Vasey's) were steaming as the heat met the cold air.
After they had resumed digging for a few minutes, Allan's shovel got caught on Vasey's arm and tipped the cadaver into the grave, where it narrowly missed the two men. It hit the solid earth with a disturbing "squish" as some mysterious fluid spurted out. Allan's battle training reflexes kicked in. He twirled the shovel in the air and plunged it into the Sheriff's chest.
Allan's eyes widened in disgust as he gaped down at the now decidedly mangled corpse. "Oh god oh god oh god he's lookin' at me!"
"Then don't look at him!" Guy said, grabbing Allan's arm in an attempt to pull him away.
He was too late, though, for Allan was already vomiting all over Vasey, coating the former Sheriff with a thick coating of upchuck.
"On second thought, I think the hole's deep enough," Guy said, hoisting Allan out of the pit.
Allan gripped his master's hand to pull him up in turn, then leaned over, huffing. "Bet you couldn't get an Irishman to do that, could ya?"
Guy merely gave him an inscrutable look and tossed him his shovel. "Fill the hole. And make sure it's packed tightly!"
"Wait a tick, what about you? Aren't you gonna help?" Allan inquired as he watched Guy put on his shirt.
"I have some unfinished business to attend to," Guy said darkly. "Oh, and when you're finished, go to the dungeon and fetch the feather I left down there."
Allan's shoulders drooped resignedly. "Fine. Fine, I'll take care of it. You go off and get the girl. I'll be alright. Don't worry about me."
"Good," Guy said, strapping on his belt. "Oh, and . . . th-th. Thhhh. Thhh."
"What are you tryin' to do?" Allan asked wonderingly.
"I'm trying to say thhhh . . . thaaaank. Thhaaank you. There, I said it. Now get back to work." Guy trotted off back into the castle.
"Well, fuck me," said Allan, a smile soon replacing the initial look of shock on his face as he watched Guy go.
************************************************************************
Marian nuzzled the black kitten, which peered up at her with piercing blue eyes. "You know, you remind me of someone," she said as its tiny pink tongue licked her nose. "But I can't think who."
The next moment the door burst open. In the doorway stood Guy, flushed and glistening with sweat and probably some of Vasey's bodily fluids. "What's the matter now?" she asked, standing up and brushing the floor dust off her clean white toga.
"I have a proposal to make," said Guy breathlessly. "And I have to do it now, before there are any more interruptions."
End of Chapter Fourteen
Stay tuned for the climactic-ish conclusion of "Weekend at Vasey's"!