XLII

Vaisey had not thought that Winchester's presence on his turf would afford him the slightest enjoyment but watching the lord return from a trip to the forest with only a sour expression and sore head to show for it, made him happier than he could say.

"So this is you 'dealing with it' is it?"

"Go to hell."

Winchester meant every word. If it was one thing he detested it was Vaisey and if there was one thing he detested even more it was Vaisey in smug git mode.

"Aww don't be like that Winny, I was just wondering how a few outlaws managed to put one over you, what with you taking a small army of Prince John's men with you."

"The same way they put one over you every other day." Winchester gritted out in reply.

Vaisey's expression darkened but he was in too much of a good mood to let the comment bother him for long. "Oh come my friend, you're just upset because they took your lady… or should I say Prince John's lady?"

The shifty look on Winchester's face was deeply satisfying for Vaisey to behold; surprising others with his ability to second-guess their motives had always given him a kick.

He had to admit he'd been surprised to learn of Winchester's choice for a bride, he had of course remembered the girl – had seen the effect she'd had upon his lieutenant and the prince even if he hadn't been able to understand it, but like his right hand man, he'd been puzzled as to why Winchester wanted her. It was only as Winchester told him that Prince John had sent him to Nottingham that Vaisey put it all together.

He meant to give her to him.

Winchester had always been one to stoop low to curry favour and this fitted perfectly. He was already pandering to the prince to muscle in on Vaisey's job, but the girl, well, that was a very intimate gift wasn't it? A gift that would inspire great generosity on the regent's part.

Yes, Vaisey could just picture how it had been; Prince John reminiscing about a lost chance with a lady and Winchester filing the information away for later use… Rumours circulating about outlaws in Nottingham and Winchester suggesting he 'deal with it' for his prince…

Vaisey could almost admire the cunning of his rival if it weren't for the fact that it was what he had that he was after - what the prince had given to him.

I see through you.

I know exactly how you work…

and I'll see you dead before you take what's mine.

"But don't you fret; we have our little friend in the dungeon - a good bargaining chip if ever I saw one, courtesy of my good self."

This wasn't strictly true, actually it had been Gisborne who'd gotten hold of that 'bargaining chip' for them but Vaisey cared little for details of who or what when there was credit to be claimed for something.

"They have Gisborne as well…"

"It makes no difference. If they want the saracen back then they will give me whatever I want." There was a sinister truth to this that Vaisey did not have to elaborate on - that he was ruthless was well known; he was not above lopping bits off their captive if need be, something he knew Hood would not have the stomach for, not even with Gisborne sitting pretty in his forest den.

Winchester nodded; they were on the same page then. Vaisey was about to go into details of how he would like this to pan out when he saw his jailer hovering nearby. He didn't know what he was here to discuss but he'd put money on it having something to do with their newest dungeon resident.

Heathen magic had a lot to answer for.

In this case, it was the reason that nothing had gone to plan for the sheriff.

You see, as far as he was concerned, the trade had gone wrong. What he had wanted was all of them. He wasn't content with the return of Gisborne and the girl, no, what he'd tried to do was take the rest - to keep them in the castle and have the guards arrest them.

But then his hostage had burnt him when he wouldn't hand her over.

Unbeknownst to him, (and his jail staff) she'd had some substance hidden upon her person and he'd come to learn of it in the most painful way possible. To add insult to injury, she'd then performed some other devilry to create a smokescreen and sneak the outlaws out of there.

His jailer had warned him of her strange behaviour but it had been a long day and he hadn't wanted to hear it... and now here he was; back to square one. It was galling.

All it had taken was one look at Gisborne for his temper to skyrocket. As so often, this wasn't his fault, but Vaisey had to give somebody the blame and since he was already angry at him for stupidly galloping off to rescue the girl and getting himself caught in the process, that made him as good a scapegoat as any.

And so it came to pass that Cavendish, Winchester and Francesca looked on in astonishment as Vaisey threw a monumental wobbler and the guards hauled his lieutenant off for a night in the dungeon.

Guy accepted his punishment without protest. He would've done so no matter what the circumstances but something had occurred during the outlaws' escape that was going to make the sheriff very angry indeed.

Hood had seen his tattoo.

Weakened after his involuntary sojourn in the forest, he'd made a hash of impeding his enemy's bid to escape and his sleeve had been torn in the altercation. Now he was going to have to break this to the sheriff and hope that he didn't cut his arm off.

As if things hadn't been dire enough.

You'd think that considering the events of the day at Nottingham dungeons, the staff would've had the place in lockdown but no, as Francesca made her appearance in the vaults that night, she had absolutely no problem whatsoever getting in there.

All it took was a smile and a plate of biscuits. They didn't even search her. She could've smuggled in anything; acid, poison, a knife… a table leg had she'd been so inclined, but no, she didn't for she had no ill intent, she just wanted to see Guy.

She'd been wise to wait till nightfall, to avoid the suspicion of her father and Winchester and the catcalls of the dungeon inhabitants (all conked out after a day of torture or whatever) and found the knight in the furthest cell looking appropriately miserable.

He sprang up from where he lay and approached the bars.

"What are you doing here?" It appalled him that she had come here of all places, wide blue eyes piercing her with an angry stare.

It was not quite the welcome she'd been hoping for but in a way it made her nostalgic; here she was again, sneaking around to visit him and there he was; as grumpy as ever.

"I've come to see you." She smiled in the hope it might soften his temper.

It didn't. His frown deepened. "Why would you do that?"

Because I love you, you idiot.

"I wanted to see if you're alright."

He didn't say anything to this but he didn't have to, his features twisted into an sarcastic glare as if to say 'well as you can see I'm super-duper, thanks for asking.'

She swallowed nervously, yes; it was perhaps silly of her for how alright can one be after all that had happened that day? Still, she could not help but wonder…

"Have they hurt you?" She gestured with a flick of the head in the direction of the jail staff.

He said nothing, which coupled with numerous bruises and the haphazardly bandaged forearm he held close to his body was answer enough.

"I'm so sorry Guy, I didn't want for any of this to happen, I wish he'd never brought me here but I had no choice." She was on the verge of tears now, she'd been wanting to say this since the beginning but everything had happened so fast and then in the forest everybody had been watching her so closely, she hadn't felt comfortable to say the words.

Guy seemed to soften at this. He believed her; he knew she would never have wanted them to meet again like this, just as she would never have chosen Winchester. Her life was not her own – it never had been, in this respect they were so similar it pained him.

"Did he even ask you?" He didn't have say any more, they both knew of whom and what he spoke. Francesca shook her head. No, there had been no marriage proposal; her fate had been decided by others just as it always had been.

"I'm sorry."

She kept her eyes to the ground to spare herself his look of pity. She sighed deeply before plastering an overly cheerful grin upon her face and changing the subject. "So err… is it always so lively in Nottingham?"

"You have no idea." The way he rolled his eyes was so Guy it made her chuckle.

"Who are those men?" She was serious now, she'd not yet had chance to hear his side of the story.

"Criminals. Thieves." His voice was low and tight, his jaw clenched.

"Their leader said you took his house from him…"

"Their leader is a fine one to talk about taking things from people."

The venom with which he spoke these words made her shiver. She remained silent in the hope that he would elaborate but he did not. An awkward silence followed before he finally whispered, "You should go, this is no place for a lady."

She nodded. There was so much more she wanted to ask him but could tell from his expression that he was in no mood for discussion. She sighed and then the words came tumbling out before she had a chance to check them,

"I wish I could help you."

It was an echo of that which he'd once said to her and it made him ache like never before. They stared at each other with a sadness that could not be expressed in words, both wishing this was another time and place and that everything had turned out differently.

Then the moment was gone and she whispered goodnight.