"Aye, I can take you to Calais. It'll cost." the Captain rubs his chin.
"We expect decent bedding." Guy says firmly.
"It'll cost extra."
"I...We can afford it." I say, reminding myself that as I am 'married', my 'husband' controls the strings on my purse.
"You will be paid for the travel, a little more for decent food and a good bed. Is that understood?" Sir Guy informs the man, his back straightening as he glares down at the man, who suddenly changes his tune.
"Of course, sir. Of course. Though best pray your wife doesn't bring the curse of the sea upon us, the weather is already stirring up a storm."
Guy rolls his eyes and turns round to face me, I am huddled into my grey cloak, shivering all the same as the wind whistles through the port. Beyond the sea is grey, surging and roaring as it hits the walls. It is the last of the storm there was last night. But these men are wont to believe a woman can whistle up a wind on a ship, sending waves upwards to the heavens and then crashing down on the deck, smashing boats into fragments along the bottom of the sea. As I look to the heaving greyness of the water and feel the cold sharp tang of the air, I cannot see why any woman would desire a storm while she is on a boat.
"Come on, we better find some hot food while we still can. I may have argued down the price a little, but I can't make promises on whether he'll actually keep his word." Guy says and takes my arm, though with surprising gentleness. These few days spent travelling have formed a strange little mummers play, husband and wife, travelling through England and onto France. He's become gentler and softer with me...and I suppose I've done the same. I no longer bait him or attempt to rile him, my mind is too concerned with other matters. There have been days when he's even managed to bring me out of my melancholy.
We find a small tavern, warm and welcoming. The fire blazes in the hearth and the roasted pork they set before us is some of the finest food we've eaten on the journey thus far. Whether it is the cold weather or my exhaustion I eat ravenously.
"How long before we travel?" I ask, when I finally stop to wipe my mouth and drink from my cup of mead.
"We have three hours before they leave. What do you plan to do when we reach France?"
I frown, I had not really thought about how I would approach my brother-in-law or mother-in-law. Though in some ways I had ensured they would have to see me and return both my sons to me. This time I would take no chances, both my boys would be returned to me, to grow under my roof and be educated as I saw fit. There were only two ways I could see her returning my sons to me. I pulled out the two letters from the leather pouch I kept by my side. One from the Queen of France, I had served her loyally and kept her secrets well guarded, I had won her trust and friendship. The other was Prince John. Sir Guy instantly seized the letter from Prince John, his eyes darting quickly over the contents, before looking back at me.
"You have powerful friends in high places." he murmured.
"It always helps to have a few. I sent the Queen some soap and perfumes at Christmas, and a pair of embroidered gloves for Prince John. Tis not always the gaudy presents that make you well remembered. There is no way my mother-in-law can refuse to recognise the importance I have from these two letters and the support of a would-be King and reigning Queen." I tucked the letters back in my purse and hid them under my cloak. I scratched the spot on my arm again, I had been bitten by some little pest during one of our stays at a less...hospitable place.
Later as the sea heaved and stormed around us, I regretted eating so much pork. The sailors kept a wide berth of me, though not for fear of me throwing up on deck, but rather the foolish misbelief women brought the wrath of the sea on innocent ships. I prefered staying up on deck, it was the only way I felt better, I tried to stay out of the way by sitting on a coil of rope. But as a few drops of rain hit my cheek, I pulled my cloak around my shoulders and got up to go down below to my cabin. The salt-smelling wood was hardy and dark, as I walked down the passageway. Guy was already in our room, he was reading a letter.
"The Sheriff is not pleased."
"Oh?" I came behind him and rested my arm across his shoulders, he momentarily stiffened and then relaxed under my grasp.
"He says this is a fool's errand, you won't get your boys back and I am...I am too much in awe of you."
I knew I should be pleased to hear that, happy he had so falteringly admit to it, but I felt my cheeks flushed and I pulled my arm back. Guy looked up at me.
"He wants me to return to him." he said.
"Then why did he let you go so easily in the first place?" I asked.
Guy shrugged. I frown and feel my stomach twist into knots, my arms and neck feel the cold wind seeping into our cabin and the dampness of the wood. Something is not quite right, something is wrong. But I cannot tell what.
"Vaisey is a hard man to read." I murmur.
"Nay." Guy says, "Impossible, you should know that by now. Vaisey is no book."
I smile softly, "Not impossible. Difficult and confusing, yes. But no man is without their weakness."
"You forget Vaisey has the blessings and security of Prince John. How long has it been since you held true favour with the Prince? He has forgotten you. Without all your charms and wiles, you would be nothing. You overestimate your skills and abilities."
I am almost struck speechless, my anger roars furiously in my ears and boils in the pit of my stomach. What does this man know of me? How dare he make any assumption about me.
"You forget I am closer to the King of France, the King of England and the Regent, more so than you could ever hope or dream of being! I married a great Lord of France, who was a favoured courtier with both King Richard and King Louis. What are you? A common Knight!"
"And yet here you are, in a musty cabin, with a common Knight. Who also happens to be Lord of Locksley. You have fallen, I have risen. You make too many assumptions about your enemies and thus fall too easily in their traps."
"I make assumptions and most of those assumptions are right!" Half of my mind is still furious and the rest worried we will be overheard, but my anger wins out.
"It is all you and your damnable cousin have ever done, always assumed with the wrongly held belief you are right."
"My cousin and I are nothing alike, we…"
His fist slams onto the table, "You say this every time, but I see her in you." he breathes heavily, his eyes burning with a dark fire, his hair obscures his vision and he roughly pushes it aside, "Knowing you now, I see how she had you in her too."
The silence falls heavily and oppressive on the cabin, despite the howling winds outside and the crash of waves on the side of the boat. I find I cannot bear to look at him and eventually cross to a pitcher of wine on the table. I pour myself a tumbler of the dark red liquid and drink deeply, it is bitter and there are dregs at the bottom of the cup, but I force myself to swallow it. I try to turn round to look at him, but find I cannot. I speak to the table instead.
"Is that why you can't stand me? You hate me because I remind you of her."
Behind me I hear him shift his weight. I wait. An achingly long silence follows. I inhale deeply and finally face him. My heart softens when I see his face, years of pain, frustration and loneliness etched onto his brow. His eyes are lost in past memories, far away from me.
"Be honest with me, Guy. For once in your life, be honest with someone." I do not mean for my words to sound sharp or angry, but his face clouds immediately, anger springing once more into those fierce eyes. He glares at me. I falter, "I'm sorry, I did not mean…"
"You meant well enough. Your cousin also meant well enough. I suspect Vaisey told you how well she played me. How I am mocked because your cousin played a dangerous game, and both she and I lost."
I wet my lips and shake my head, "No one's spoken to me about how my cousin died. I do not know the details of your relationship with her, she never wrote to me. So, I would ask you the same as you asked me, stop making assumptions. You and Robin seem to believe you have lost so much when you lost her, and yet you fail to realise I lost my one and only surviving family member that day. I have been told nothing as to how she died or why."
He snorts with contempt, "You never loved her."
It all happens so quickly I am unsure whether it was truly myself who did it, or someone else had come into the room. But Gisborne clutching his cheek and my palm stinging makes me realise I did struck him. My eyes sting as well and I quickly turn my back on him once more.
"How dare you," my voice shakes and I try to bring it under my control, "She was my kin. Yes we argued and we never forgave each other for it, but I loved her. She was the closest I ever had to a sister. You know nothing of who we were and grew up to be. There is a reason why she was named Marian and I named Anne. It was so our names were forever linked, a promise to be sisters as well as kin, Marie-Ann and Anna-Marie."
I think on her and I feel the overwhelming sense of loss that I had kept hidden and secret, ever since I had heard of her death. How much I wished now I had written to her, that I had been so proud or stubborn to ask for forgiveness. I wish I had to chance to show her my boys, she would've loved them and they her, I know it. It becomes too much and I sink onto the bed, feeling faint and weak. I raise my hand to my face, hiding my tears, though knowing my body is wracked with sobs. I hate this man so much, standing victorious over me as I weep for my lost family. He is a base as I! He thinks he is risen? Not a friend in the world, no marriage, no child to carry on his name. I wipe my eyes, not caring at the tear streaked face and red eyes I may have, and look up at him.
"Do you have nothing to say?" I ask furiously. Guy at least has the courtesy to look ashamed and stare down at his boots. "What have I done to you?" I ask, "Why do you hate me so very much?"
"Because I fear I do not." he snaps and looks angrily at me.
"What do you mean?"
"I do not wish to repeat what I have already learned and struggled with."
I let out a cry of frustration, "Can you not speak your mind, for once?"
"God damn it, woman! I am speaking my mind!" he bellows. "I love you and I have no desire to. Why the Devil seeks to mock and laugh at my pain, I do not know, but that is the truth of the matter. I do not wish to tread down this path again, and yet here I am with you."
It takes me a while to truly comprehend what he has said and even then the words seem to ebb and echo around me, though I do not truly understand them. I am grateful for the wind and rain, though it could mean our end.
"You love me?" my voice sounds far away and hoarse.
"Yes, though God only knows why." he growls, low in his throat.
"You must loathe me very much." I say.
"No. I want to. But heaven knows I cannot."
I look up at him, tears brimming once more. I hardly know whether I love this man or hate him, whether I wish to curse him or beg him to bind himself to me. I shake my head.
"I just want to find my son, that is all. If you hate me, because you hate the court or the intrigues or games, I want no part of it anymore. I just want my boy."
The tears spill. Guy nods slowly and then swiftly marches towards me. I shift back a little away from him, half afraid he will strike me or worse, but instead he brings my chin up and stares at me, as though he would pierce my soul and see right to the heart of me. He drops my chin and quickly pulls his glove off with his teeth, then cautiously touches my cheek, wiping away the tears that linger there. His hand is rough with callouses, but his touch is gentle and find myself leaning into the caress and closing my eyes, hoping he will stop and praying he will give me more. I feel the warmth of him and hear the floor creak as he kneels in front of me. I dare not open my eyes, in case this is a dream and he melts away in front of my eyes. A soft brush of lips against mine sends my soul spiralling and I long for more.
A/N: Dun dun duuuuuuuuuuh! :) Hope you enjoyed reading!
