Chapter 25: First Blood
June 7, 1192 (continued)
It was well past midday as Robin escorted Marian back to the outlaw camp. Spending time alone together had been bliss for the newlyweds. Unknown to the others, they had actually spent the night at Locksley Manor.
Robin had secretly sent word to the servants who normally lived at the manor telling them to spend the night elsewhere. This gave Marian and him privacy, but it also protected the servants from the sheriff. They wouldn't have to lie to protect Robin and Marian, since they were not there to see them at the manor.
Robin suspected that the servants knew what was going on; a lovely meal had been left for them which they had enjoyed as they broke their fast. They had left Locksley very early in the morning, but they had taken their time in returning to the camp.
As they approached the ridge that helped hide the camp, Robin was stunned to see Gisborne leaning against a tree, guarding the camp. He was in his usual attire of dark leather, and he had both his sword and his dagger strapped to his waist.
Robin quickly drew his sword and aimed at Guy. "God's blood, Gisborne! What are you doing? Stand down, and surrender your weapons to me!"
Guy looked down his considerably long nose at Robin and sniffed slightly. "I am standing watch, and this requires that I retain possession of my sword."
"Who allowed you to stand guard? How did you get your weapons?" Robin was truly alarmed. He feared that Gisborne might be there to signal to the sheriff's men the location of the camp.
"Robin!" Marian's soft voice chimed in. "Maybe he is just trying to help! Remember, the sheriff has declared him an outlaw too."
Guy nodded. "Lady Locksley is correct. I volunteered to take a shift of standing guard. I have no interest in returning to the castle and risking my neck. There are few things that Vaisey enjoys more than a hanging."
Marian blushed with pleasure at hearing him address her using her new title.
Robin motioned with his sword for Guy to start moving. "For now, return to the camp with us." They walked over the ridge and into the camp.
Robin's distress multiplied as he found Friar Tuck tending to various bruises and scrapes on several men.
"What has happened here?" a worried Robin asked.
Tuck responded calmly, "Welcome back, Robin! And my lady. I was gone most of the morning to heal a sick child. I fear we missed something of a battle this morning."
"A battle?" Robin looked around. "Much!" he bellowed, and the servant quickly stepped forward.
"Yes, Master Robin?"
"What happened here this morning? Were we attacked?"
"Why are you asking me, Master Robin? Ask Sir Guy, he is the cause of these injuries; he is the one who attacked us!"
Robin, who was still pointing his sword at Gisborne, prepared to confront the knight, just as Saffiya and Allan both called out to him.
"Wait – it was not like that!" from Saffiya, overlapped with "Hold on, Sir Robin, let him explain!" from Allan.
"I will gladly explain what happened," smirked Guy. He faced Robin. "Your men have no training. They would be slaughtered if the sheriff's soldiers attacked this camp. Even the most junior soldier under my command could defeat most of these men. You are their leader. Why have you not trained them?"
Robin's anger rose quickly. "You attacked my men? You are here courtesy of my goodwill. You have no authority over my men when I am absent! Your rank means nothing here."
"Robin!" Marian took his arm and tried to calm him. She felt his dislike of Guy was affecting his judgment. "Please, listen to Guy. I think he is trying to help you!"
Guy nodded at Marian. "Lady Locksley speaks the truth. I am just bringing this issue to your attention. You seem to be fond of these peasants. I do not understand that, but regardless, you are endangering them by keeping them untrained. More importantly, you are endangering Lady Eleanor and Lady Saffiya. These men cannot defend themselves. How will they protect a small child and a woman?"
Robin narrowed his eyes. He did not trust Gisborne. "Very well, I am listening. What happened?"
"I merely suggested to the men that they needed training with swords and to learn tactical fighting. The men did not seem interested in training because they felt you would always be there to protect them."
Robin grimaced. He could imagine the men saying such a thing. It was foolish of them to rely solely on his skills to stay alive.
Guy continued, "We had a contest. Your men were tasked with defending Lady Saffiya and Lady Eleanor from my attack, and I was able to single-handedly defeat all of them. If they face the sheriff's soldiers without additional training, they will die."
Allan spoke, "That's right, Robin. He made it look easy the way he knocked all of us on our arses. I want training. I don't wanna be killed by soldiers."
Robin saw that Roy and Little John were nodding in agreement. He looked at Will, who seemed to be staring at the ground.
"Will?" Robin called to him. "What about you?"
Will raised his eyes, and Robin could see that the young man looked angry and frustrated. In his quiet voice, Will spoke. "Yes, I want training too. Next time, I want to have the skills I need to kill that bastard."
Guy just rolled his eyes.
Robin sheathed his sword. He hated to admit that Gisborne was right, but he was. Robin realized that he had done his men a disservice by not giving them the training they would need to survive a confrontation with real soldiers. He rubbed his face and looked down. His desire to leave behind war and the life of a soldier had led him to endanger not only his friends, but his daughter and sister as well.
Friar Tuck then joined the conversation. "My son, there is no harm in training the men, and it could save their lives. I also have training as a soldier. I can help you and Gisborne train them."
Robin slapped his hand on the shoulder of the kindly friar in a friendly gesture. "I agree. We will begin training first thing tomorrow morning. Tuck and I will work with you and give you the skills you need to stay alive."
Unexpectedly, Will spoke up again. "Sir Robin, we have seen your skills with a bow. They are unequaled, but what about your skills with a sword? Between you and Gisborne, who is the better swordsman?"
Robin could not suppress a smile. He appreciated Will's cleverness. The other men picked up on the implied challenge and began calling for a contest between the two.
"What say you, Gisborne? Who is the best swordsman? Are you willing to fight me?"
"I do not fear you," sneered the tall knight.
The outlaws began to whoop and shout.
Marian walked to where Saffiya and Ellie stood. She picked up Ellie and spoke to Saffiya. "Did you see what happened this morning?"
Saffiya nodded. "Guy was very impressive against the outlaws. He defeated them easily, but I worry about him fighting Robin. I am sure he is still tired from this morning. His wounds are healing well, but he has been spending a lot of time resting and recovering since he came to the camp." She paused. "And I do not believe that Robin has ever been defeated, at least not in the time that I have known him."
"Yes, I am not sure that this contest is a good idea," replied Marian. "Not only is Guy still recovering, but there is a lot of bad blood between the two of them. I do not understand it, and I fear that there is more to it than we know."
The two women looked back at the men. Robin was showing his scimitar to Guy. They watched as Guy took the Saracen sword and held it. He moved it around a bit and seemed to be testing its weight and balance as he held his sword in one hand and Robin's in the other.
The other outlaws were standing next to Marian and Saffiya. They were filled with anticipation for the upcoming fight.
Roy laughed, "Look, they're comparing the length of their swords!"
The other outlaws roared with laughter, and Marian and Saffiya looked at each other in bewilderment. What was so funny?
Friar Tuck agreed to supervise the match. Marian and Saffiya watched as Robin and Guy walked to the nearby table and removed their shirts.
"Wait!" called Marian. "Why are they taking off their shirts?"
Roy answered, "Well, they probably don't want to ruin their shirts. Also, it's easier to determine who draws first blood."
"BLOOD!" cried Marian and Saffiya in unison.
Little John nodded and spoke, "They will be fighting until first blood, I am sure."
Marian and Saffiya both gasped and looked at each other; they were quite alarmed.
Soon the two men were facing each other in the clearing. Robin was wielding his scimitar, while Guy held his customary weapon.
Ellie was also worried, and she asked, "Are they gonna hurt each other?"
Saffiya tried to reassure Ellie. "They might get a scratch or two, but they are just practicing."
With a loud CLANG that echoed across the clearing, the battle was on. At first, there was no clear advantage for either man. They shifted back and forth across the clearing. The metal of the swords flashed in the sunlight as the men executed thrusts and parries. Their backs began to shine with sweat, and their arm muscles flexed and bunched as the two men fought to gain the upper hand.
Their audience watched in hushed awe of the talent and ability of the two swordsmen.
And then it happened. Guy stumbled slightly. Saffiya covered her mouth with her hand to keep herself from crying out in alarm. She could see that Guy was beginning to tire and weaken. Her heart broke for him when she realized that he would most likely lose. Saffiya knew what a blow it would be to his pride.
Again, Guy stumbled. He began to look unsteady and most of his moves became defensive. It was then that Robin feigned a movement to the left and quickly slashed to the right, catching Guy on his upper left arm. A red line immediately appeared, followed by a flow of blood trickling down his arm.
The outlaws began shouting and cheering, while Robin raised his arms in triumph. Robin had avenged the outlaws' earlier humiliation at the hands of Gisborne.
Meanwhile, Guy threw his sword to the ground and unsteadily made his way to the trees. As soon as he reached the tree line, he fell to his knees and began to retch.
Marian carried Ellie over to Robin as Saffiya looked between Robin and Guy, uncertain of what to do.
"Robin!" cried Marian, "Are you hurt?"
Robin handed his sword to Much and took Ellie from Marian. "Of course I am not hurt!" He was smiling broadly.
Much was very excited by Robin's win over Gisborne. "Ellie, your papa won! He won and defeated his evil enemy!"
Ellie began to look around, as if she was searching for this "evil enemy." She then saw Guy. "Is Uncle Guy hurt?"
Robin sighed. "Ellie, he is not your uncle! And he is not hurt!"
Holding Ellie with one arm, Robin turned to the outlaws who had gathered around him. He pumped his fist in the air and loudly proclaimed, "Gisborne is the loser, and I am the winner!"
Ellie also raised a fist as she mimicked her papa. All the outlaws laughed and cheered Robin, congratulating him on his win. There was great excitement among the gathered outlaws.
Marian rolled her eyes. Men! – just overgrown boys! She looked over at Saffiya and saw her start to hobble towards Guy on her crutches. Marian realized that Saffiya's walking was not improving much. She frowned as she turned from the celebration of Robin's victory and went to Saffiya, helping her as she continued to move awkwardly towards Guy.
By the time that Marian and Saffiya walked up to Guy, he was breathing heavily, but he was no longer retching. He was very pale and shaking slightly. Slowly and unsteadily, he stood. Saffiya immediately recognized the signs of exhaustion and dehydration.
"Guy!" called Saffiya, "Let me check your wound to see if it needs to be cleaned or stitched."
He spun towards the small woman and roared, "You damn Saracen! Stop bothering me! Go away, and leave me alone!" He then turned and stumbled into the trees.
Saffiya gasped and tears sprang into her eyes. Marian embraced her quickly, just as Friar Tuck arrived on the scene.
"Please," the good friar quietly addressed the two women, "Let me attend to him; he will be in no mood to receive help from either of you. Can you not see that he is embarrassed and humiliated?"
"Tuck," replied Saffiya softly, "Guy is suffering from a lack of water. Please make him drink water and lie down."
Allan then arrived, carrying Guy's shirt and jerkin. "Can I help?"
Tuck nodded. "Yes. Allan and I will see to Guy. Please leave him in our care."
Marian nodded and gently led Saffiya back to the main area of the camp.
Much, Roy, Little John, and Will were ecstatic at Robin's win. They wondered if they really needed training with such a talented archer and swordsman leading them. They were busy singing his praises and mocking Guy as Robin gently set Ellie on the ground so that he could pull on his shirt and tunic.
Robin scowled. In the moment, it had felt good to defeat his long-time rival, but upon reflection, his sense of fair play began to nag at him. During the duel, he had watched as the color slowly left Guy's face. As his arm began to shake slightly, and his steps became unsteady. Robin shook his head. He had defeated a man who had recently recovered from three arrow wounds. And a flogging. A man who had spent the better part of a sennight lying in a hammock.
He snapped out of his thoughts in time to hear Much comment, "Well, as long as we have Robin leading us, I don't think we need the kind of training–"
"No!" shouted Robin at his friends. Gritting his teeth, he continued in a moderated tone. "We will begin training tomorrow. I will ask Gisborne to assist Tuck and me, and I insist that you show Gisborne respect while he is training you. We are fortunate to have someone with his skills here to help us."
"His skills?" cried Much. "But you just defeated him! You are clearly the better swordsman! He does not have your skill, Master Robin. He is inferior to you in every way!"
Roy, Little John, and Will were enthusiastically agreeing with Much.
Robin again shook his head. "I just defeated a man who could barely walk a sennight ago. A man who has survived multiple arrow wounds, festering injuries, and a flogging within the past month. Yet, he was an impressive opponent."
Robin paused and looked in the direction that Guy had gone. "It is true that I am more skilled; there is no doubt about that in my mind, but he has great proficiency with a sword. He lacks the battle experience that I gained during the Crusade, but he has natural talent and ability."
Although Tuck returned to the camp within the hour, no one saw Allan and Gisborne again until it was time for the evening meal. Guy walked into camp and went to his hammock, where Tuck had placed his sword. Quickly sheathing it, he turned and approached the table.
Robin walked towards him. Once again, the two men stood face to face.
"Gisborne."
"Locksley."
Everyone in the camp held their breath, wondering what would happen next.
Robin spoke first, "Are you willing to serve me by teaching my men sword fighting techniques as well as battle tactics? I want you to teach us the tactics and strategies that the sheriff and his soldiers most frequently employ. Prepare the men to face the sheriff's soldiers and help them learn how to protect my wife, daughter, and sister, and I will allow you to remain here in the camp, where you will be safe from Vaisey."
Guy looked steadily at Robin for several moments. He finally nodded and replied. "I will help you train them. If they ever have to face the sheriff's soldiers, they will be ready to defend themselves, and more importantly, they will be ready to protect Lady Locksley, Lady Eleanor, and Lady Saffiya."
As Guy turned to walk to the table, he saw Saffiya sitting quietly next to Marian and Ellie with her eyes lowered to the ground. Hesitantly, he moved towards her.
Brown eyes full of pain and green eyes blazing with anger greeted him.
Alarmed, he knew that he had to say something to make this right. But, what to say?
"Saffiya," Guy paused and cleared his throat. He briefly considered dropping to one knee and begging for forgiveness, but everyone in the camp was watching. He couldn't show such weakness in front of Robin and the other men. Speaking in a stiff and formal manner, he continued, "I apologize for shouting at you. I did not mean what I said."
The pair of brown eyes softened with relief. The pair of green eyes narrowed, but seemed somewhat placated.
Guy then turned and sat at the other end of the table. He wondered what he could do to ensure that he did not lose Saffiya's regard. Perhaps a late night visit to her tent would allow them to have some privacy, and he could then properly apologize. Better yet, instead of apologizing – after all, he had already apologized – he could find a way to please her.
He remembered hearing his men talk about giving a woman pleasure by touching them in certain ways. He typically did not spend much time with his men, and he found such crude talk distasteful, but perhaps it might be worth trying some of the things he had heard.
Guy glanced at Saffiya as she sat and quietly talked with Marian. He could not lose her regard. He was distressed to realize that he craved her warmth and tenderness more than the food he was perfunctorily chewing and swallowing.
Yes, he would visit her tent tonight, as soon as everyone in the camp was asleep. He would just have to be careful not to alert whoever stood watch on the nearby ridge.
June 10, 1192
Several nights later, they were once again gathered around the campfire, and Allan was telling tales. This particular story involved a rather humorous incident with Marian in her role as the Night Watchman.
Marian was a little uncomfortable as she sat and listened to Allan tell a story about her exploits as the Night Watchman.
Everyone else leaned forward in anticipation as Allan finished his tale, ". . . and then Mah . . . the Night Watchman jumped from the wagon. He rolled underneath the wagon, came out the other side, an' stood up behind the guard. Grabbin' a bag of oats, he hit the guard on the back of his head, and pow! down went the guard. We just grabbed what we could carry and ran."
They all chuckled as they imagined the scene described by Allan.
"Wait," exclaimed Guy. "I thought you said this happened sometime after the Faire. That cannot be correct."
"No, I'm sure about this, Giz. I was there, like I said. I know it happened after you an' Ellie started living in the camp."
"Allan, you are confused. It is not possible for the Night Watchman to have done these things after the Faire."
Marian's heart sank as she realized where Guy was going with his argument. She tried to redirect the conversation. "It is not important when it happened. Maybe there is another story that Allan could tell . . . "
"I am sorry, Lady Locksley, but I disagree. You all tell me that the Night Watchman is not part of your band of outlaws. Yet, one or another of you are constantly working with him. And I am certain that the Night Watchman I encountered when you tried to steal the salted venison could not have been with Allan during this raid after the Faire. Could there be two men, or boys, who take turns appearing as the Night Watchman?"
Guy's words made Robin curious. Robin decided to ask for clarification. "Gisborne, why do you say that? Why would there have to be two Night Watchmen?"
Guy looked confused. "Locksley, you were there. You saw what happened to the Night Watchman. God's teeth, you were the one who picked him up and carried him away. You were clearly headed to the city gates."
"What? When did this happen?" Robin was increasingly confused.
"How much ale have you had tonight, Locksley? How could you forget what happened on the day of the Faire, when I chased the Night Watchman across the courtyard?"
Robin paled, "You mean . . . when . . ."
The whole camp sat in hushed silence as they slowly began to understand what had happened.
"When I grabbed the Night Watchman and broke his leg. I clearly heard it snap. You picked him up, and someone hit me on the head."
Again, silence reigned as the import of Guy's words dawned on them.
Now Guy became confused at their silence and odd reaction. He looked to Marian. "Lady Locksley, you remember do you not? I told you how I saw the Night Watchman in the crowd and nearly captured him."
Marian dropped her face into her hands and tried not to cry.
Guy called to her, "Marian? Do you remember?"
Robin now spoke. "Gisborne, why do you think it was the Night Watchman in the square?"
"Well, I know it was him. I had just seen him and cut his arm a few days before. He was wearing the same hooded cape . . . Marian . . . I mean, Lady Locksley, what troubles you?"
Marian was now sobbing into her hands. Robin wrapped his arm around her to comfort her. It was all becoming clear to him now. Marian's cape. It must have been one that she had worn as the Night Watchmen. It all made sense now.
"It is my fault!" Marian whispered as Robin leaned towards her.
"Shhh, it is not your fault," he murmured quietly. "We will talk later."
Guy looked around and realized that everyone was staring at him in open-mouthed surprise. Everyone except for Marian, and she appeared to be in some kind of distress.
"Wait," said Robin, "everyone wait here." He jumped up and went to the tent he used when Marian was with him in the camp. Crawling into the dark tent, he felt around in the far corner, remembering that Marian had flung the cape there when he had tried to return it to her recently. Her emotional response to the cape was now making more sense. As soon as he felt the rough fabric, he grabbed it and quickly returned to the others at the campfire.
Holding it up in the light of the fire, Robin asked, "Gisborne, are you talking about this cape?"
"Yes! That is the cape that the Night Watchman wears! I swear it. He was wearing it when I broke his leg! Why do you have it?"
Robin shook his head. What to say? He couldn't reveal Marian's secret, but Guy should be told the truth about what happened at the Faire.
Robin looked at Guy and spoke, "You are correct; this cape is sometimes worn by the Night Watchman. However, on the day of the Faire, I borrowed it from him, and someone else was wearing it."
Guy nodded. He was also putting the pieces of the puzzle together. "I see. Well, that would explain why he is still able to jump off wagons and run . . ." His voice trailed off.
Robin saw the moment when Guy realized the implications of what had happened.
"But . . . if it was not the Night Watchman, then who . . ." Guy frowned in concentration. "Wait, who was wearing the cape at the Faire? Who . . ." Guy's heart began beating faster. Some portion of his mind knew the truth, but he was not ready to acknowledge it yet.
A dulcet voice – one that he had come to know very well – spoke. "I was wearing the cape that day. It was my leg that you broke."
Guy stared at Saffiya as she gazed steadily at him. Horrified, he realized the truth. It was his fault. Guy knew very well the purpose of breaking a leg and crushing the knee in such a manner. It was intended to be a permanent injury.
This woman had given her virtue to him, had given him affection, tenderness, and great pleasure, despite the fact that he had crippled her.
He unsteadily rose to his feet and stumbled away from the campfire. He had to get away from all those eyes staring at him. He could not allow the other men to see the emotion welling in his eyes.
As soon as he was well away from the campfire and concealed in a cocoon of thick underbrush, he sank to his knees and covered his face with his hands.
Mon Dieu, what have I done!
A part of him didn't want to admit that it could be true. But then he remembered something from that day, from that moment in the courtyard when he had crushed the Night Watchman's knee. The high-pitched scream. Now, in his memory, the scream pierced him. The Night Watchman had screamed like a girl, because it hadn't been the Night Watchman, it had been Saffiya.
Clever, kind, sweet Saffiya.
Gentle, lovely, sweet Saffiya.
He wiped at the tears rolling down his face. Shaking his head in disbelief, he thought about the last time he had shed tears. The night his parents had died. The night when his childhood had ended, and he had descended into a burning hell on earth. His sleep was haunted by fiery nightmares. Shadows of that day, in the form of memories that unexpectedly invaded his mind, darkened his waking hours.
But in the arms of Saffiya, all the darkness in his heart seemed to lessen and fade. Some foreign emotion, which he suspected might be happiness, blanketed him when he was lying in her tent, holding her close.
Why was she willing to lie with him, to give herself to him, when he had done this terrible thing to her?
Images, memories of her at the castle, flickered in his mind. Graceful movements across the courtyard as her long, flowing robes softly swayed around her small form. The night before the Faire – the moment when she had knelt before him and asked God to bless and protect him. Not since the death of his parents had anyone prayed for him in such a manner. Or praised him for performing a noble deed!
He gazed down at his hands. The tears that filled his eyes blurred his vision, but he wondered if any of his deeds since the death of his parents had been truly noble. There was nothing noble or honorable about deceiving Saffiya into believing that he would marry her.
Overwhelmed by guilt, he tried to reason with himself. He might not be able to marry her, but he could take care of her. Perhaps she could be his mistress. That way, he would be able to take care of her, and she could continue taking care of him. That would be an excellent solution.
Once again, the annoying voice whispered to him, why would she consent to such an arrangement? She is not a whore; she is from Saracen nobility, and her brother is the Earl of Huntingdon. He started to argue with the voice, but it continued: She is already your wife in every way except for the blessing of a priest. You agreed to this betrothal . . . what kind of man treats a woman in this manner? . . . Unexpectedly, he heard Saffiya's voice, from that day at Locksley when he had first met her: You are a man without honor!
Shaking his head in defiance of these uncomfortable thoughts, he focused on the last few nights when he had snuck into her tent.
She had insisted on undressing him. It seemed to be some sort of Saracen practice of a wife undressing her husband and seeing to his needs. He had to admit to himself that she took very good care of him. He basked in her sweet, loving attentions.
He frowned as he remembered her difficulties in kneeling and crawling around in the confines of her small tent. A number of times he had intended to ask about her "fall" and leg injury, but he always found himself so caught up in the pleasure of her company and her sweet ministrations and attentiveness to his needs that he had never gotten around to asking her about it.
He still did not understand how she could forgive him for what he had done, but it must be true. How else could he explain her tenderness and affectionate care of him? It was puzzling. Guy was sure that he would never be able to forgive someone for such an injury. He had certainly never been able to forgive Robin for what happened all those years ago.
Regardless, he would have to apologize to her. He wiped again at the moisture on his face. Not tonight. He would need to regain better control over his emotions. Tomorrow. He would go to her tomorrow and apologize. Surely, she must have realized that he had not intentionally injured her. He had truly believed that she was the Night Watchman.
Hopefully, she would accept his apology and continue to welcome him into her tent at night. He realized that he needed her. He didn't quite understand why, but his desire for her seemed to become stronger every time he held her in his arms.
Next: Summer in Sherwood Forest
The relationships of Robin/Marian and Guy/Djaq continue to develop over the course of the next few months, and there is a sharp contrast between the two couples – one couple married and happily celebrating their love, the other furtively meeting in the shadows, their intense trysts a carefully kept secret.
Guy continues to help Robin train his men, and he reluctantly integrates into Robin's band of outlaws. However, his biggest adjustment will be Robin's "no-kill" policy.