Finally, an elaborately armored coach rolled into the courtyard of Nottingham Castle, the outside entirely layered with sheets of metal. The Sheriff, Captain Grey and Lord and Lady Gisborne all stood on the steps of the castle to welcome their guest. The pair of roan horses pulled the carriage to a halt, and the iron door to the carriage squeaked open. Out stepped a man with bright white hair, his face lined with a thinning white beard, his hair appearing even brighter against his black robes.

"Ah, Sir Clifford Rodham! What a pleasure to see you once again. It has been years," the Sheriff stepped forward to meet the knight.

"Fortunately it has been years," Sir Clifford's nasally voice spoke in monotone.

The Sheriff flashed a small, nervous smile.

"I joke, Vaysey. Now who are all these young people?" Sir Clifford patted the Sheriff on the back.

"Ah, well," the Sheriff replied as his humor returned, "this is the captain of my guard, Edmond Grey, my lieutenant, Sir Guy of Gisborne, and his charming wife, Lady Catrine Gisborne."

"A pleasure," Sir Clifford bowed and moved in front of Catrine, "especially to meet you, my dear," kissing her hand. "Now Vaysey, where is the meal you've been promising me for years. I'm keenly interested in your wine cellar of course."

"Right this way, my lord," Catrine led the men into the manor to the Great Hall. The hall was lit brilliantly with tapers, and steaming, enticing food laid on the table. Sheriff Vaysey moved to sit at the head of the table, Sir Clifford to his right and Guy to his left. Catrine moved to sit beside her husband, but the Sheriff cleared his throat, subtly pointing to the open seat next to Sir Clifford. Catrine gave Guy a piercing look, and he merely shrugged in return. Edmond's rodent-like face smiled at her from across the table.

"Now, Sir Clifford, how about some wine?" the Sheriff handed him a large canter of fragrant red wine.

"Ah finally! You know, of all the things I missed most in the Holy Land, it was French wine." He filled his glass and drank it all in one loud gulp.

"Oh, Sir Clifford! How exciting! What news do you have from the Holy Land?" Catrine asked coyly, taking the canter and refilling his glass.

"Well, my beauty, I have seen things, and even done things, that are most certainly not fit for your ears. And certain things are for the Prince's ears only," Sir Clifford picked up his glass once more to drink.

"Oh, that is no fun, my lord," Catrine demurely whined. Guy smiled, he knew this show of interest only too well; fortunately it worked nearly all the time.

"Is the King well, Sir Clifford?" Guy chimed in as Clifford began biting into the large turkey leg on his plate.

"Excellently so.. Gisborne was it?... yes. The King meets with great success, most of the time- both in battle and in negotiations. And fortunately for us, he has little idea that Prince John has replaced Bishop Longchamps as Regent. Not that he'd return from the war if he knew." Catrine reached over to fill his glass again.

"My, my dear, you are most accommodating."

"It is nothing my lord, I can only imagine all the horrors you've seen. It is the least I can do."

"I've seen enough blood shed to dye a dress in. Yes, in the fields outside of Jerusalem alone. The walls were spattered with blood, no wonder we failed at that attempt," Sir Clifford picked the last bits of meat from his turkey leg.

"Surely the King lost most of his men then?" Edmond asked, prying a gaze in Catrine direction, which she returned coldly.

"Oh yes, a lot. Only after that did new recruits come, including mostly nobles. Actually now that I think of it, many young men and nobles from this shire. Yes, not a few months after their arrival, one young knight took it upon himself to assassinate the leader of a most terrible group of Turks. He succeeded, but ended up being caught, the foolish man. Thought he could go out on his own to change the world single-handedly. Now what was his name… Rodger? Richard? No that's the King…"

"Uh, that wouldn't have been a certain, Robin of Locksley now, would it?" the Sheriff smiled as he spoke over the rim of his wine glass.

"Yes! That's it. Robin!" Sir Clifford reached for the wine again. Guy caught Catrine's eyes. He found a brilliant gleam in them, the same gleam he felt in his own eyes.

"Well," Catrine casually stated, sipping from her own glass, "with the leader gone, the faction must have fallen rather easily. Remove the head and the snake will die."

"My lady knows much about war strategy," Clifford's nasal voice slurring words already. "Interesting. Well yes, the faction fell. And the King met with even more success in battle. He really seems to be winning, my lords."

Sir Clifford filled his glass once more. "Nearly every paper I bring to the Prince tells the tale of a victory. Tales that are now very close to my heart, in fact." The knight turned to face Catrine, his glass spilling a bit of wine on her arm. "You know, my lady, there are even prevalent rumors that the King may return within the year, but you didn't hear it from me." He grabbed her hand to kiss it. Guy stared at the Sheriff, half in victory, half in anger at the knight's advances. Catrine cocked her head as she returned his looks as if to say, don't be stupid, Guy.

Dinner proceeded on, and the Sheriff and Catrine continually plied him with wine. They learned all about the King and his entourage and the most recent battles.

Sir Clifford's voice slurred and grew in volume. "You know," he said to the Sheriff, "I have a secret to tell you."

"Oh I do so love secrets," said the Sheriff as he leaned in towards Sir Clifford.

"Even though I'm the Prince's spymaster, I have the greatest fear of being caught on the wrong side… Which is why," Clifford said in the loudest whisper, "which is why I plan to become a much richer man. These papers and missives I have will make me rich. And out of the Prince's pocket too!" Sir Clifford smiled cockily.

"Now, what ever could you mean by that?" the Sheriff whispered back.

"I mean, my dear Vaysey, that I will make the Prince pay for his information and then hide away with friends loyal to the King. It's a foolproof plan."

"You are absolutely brilliant, my friend," said the Sheriff filling his glass once again. But it was too late, Sir Clifford passed out with his face in a bowl of berries.

"Well done, my friends, well done," the Sheriff congratulated, calling over guards to remove Sir Clifford to his bedroom.

"Now, we need a war council of our own. We can't just let this drunk turn a turncoat, now can we?" the Sheriff stood, resting his hands on the table.

"Well, my lord Sheriff, if I may be so bold as to make an observation," Catrine spoke. "His entire plan centers around this packet of reports and missives. If we remove them from him, then he is powerless against the Prince and the King."

"Excellently put, my lady," the Sheriff returned. "But why not find a solution with a benefit closer to home. You are excused, Lady Gisborne."

"My lord?" Catrine asked coldly.

"I need my men in my council, and you must be exhausted after today. Run along to bed now," the Sheriff shooed her away. Catrine rose from the table, glaring daggers at the Sheriff. It was her plan. She had done everything to question Sir Clifford, and this was how her loyalty was repaid by the Sheriff. This was not acceptable.

Guy rose to walk her out of the hall. "I'm sorry, my love, but it's best this way. Don't dirty your hands in this business," he reached to kiss her hand. Catrine pulled it away before his lips even neared her skin.

"Guy, " she said straightly, standing on the threshold.

"Don't make this difficult Catrine. Get to bed." Guy closed the door to the hall, locking Catrine out.

She kicked the locked door and walked away. She had to show them what she was capable of.