Aside from Heaven
Chapter 4M
Among the backs on the sick and the bruised
Someone was going to pay. Pay with blood and bowels and intestines ripped from them while they were awake and watching. Much like the long, drawn-out, very painful death of Hugh the Younger.
And testicles stuffed in mouths...
"Calm down."
William was walking up the road, following wagon wheel ruts. "I do not want them to get to far ahead!" His eyes widened. "There!" He pointed to a set of tracks. "Recent, heavy." He looked back to see his sons and knights coming through the portcullis, his horse, barely saddled in tow.
"Gui! Du calme!" Douma was walking along the forest's edge, her robe blending into the foliage. "She is not far ahead."
"Do not tell me to calm down." He turned and called to his sons and men before moving into the forest. "How did he take her?"
The angel shrugged nonchalantly. "Brought her a drugged mug of mead. Regaled her with a story about his sick wife."
William hissed in fury. "And then hid her out in the rubbish cart!"
"Do you remember the hideout Robin took you too? The one with the large trap door in the side of the hill?"
William nodded. He was focused on the wheel ruts. "Vaguely." He pushed on into the forest proper. "'Tis been a while."
"That's where he's taking her."
"Pig! Porcpoilue! To me!" William reach down, with his open palm pressed back, waiting to feel the hound's wet nose in the cup of his hand. He squeezed his other hand around Vivienne's scarf. "Why? Why didn't you warn me?"
The angel spread her wings, causing the birds to scatter, her hair wild. "How quickly you forget! Torture him, kill him. Take your time!" She dissipated in a cloud of grey smoke. "Do not dawdle," her voice whispered in his mind.
"Take your time," William mimicked her. "Do not dawdle. You are a study in contradictions!"
"His blood is high."
"It will spill soon."
~~~...~~~
Vivienne jerked along, the horse's gait jarred and uneven. She snarled to herself. What on earth was she doing, riding in the forest? She didn't remember getting on the horse, it wasn't even her horse! No, her horse, Brise de nuit, had a smooth walk, was fleet and swift, was like riding on air, like wind. The woman thought hard; the last thing she remembered was excepting a cool drink from one of the vendors. She thought Lord William sent him. He said Lord William sent him. The man hadn't seemed to have bathed in weeks and was rank, but he said his wife was ill, that William sent him...
He didn't seem the type for William to send.
"Hello."
Vivienne jerked from her musings. She was no longer riding, but standing next to a tree. The forest was fuzzy, out of focus, and it dawned on her, she was dreaming. She looked around to find the voice.
A woman stood before her, long blonde hair, framing a slender, noble bearing. She was clad in luxurious robes of midnight blue, that matched her eyes. "Vivienne?"
"Hello," Vivienne responded. "I'm sorry. I don't know where I am...how do you know my name?" She drew up to her very not-so-impressive full height. "Who are you?"
"I am Douma." The woman inclined her head and when she raised it, her eyes had changed to black, rolling to an equally dark shade of green. She held her hand out, gesturing towards a path that wasn't there before. "Come walk with me for a spell. I will not harm you." Mist began to roll in from the brush, covering both women to their knees. Foliage shrank back from the being, tips that strayed to close or were too slow, browned and curled in age.
Vivienne followed, but kept a respectful distance. "You are not from here." She saw the wings unfold and trail the dirt behind them. "You are an angel. Am I dead?"
Douma laughed. "No, not hardly. While I am The Angel of Death," and with this her eyes changed to rather odd shade of blue, "I am not here for you. I am here for the one who has taken you." She beckoned to the shrubbery ahead. "There is someone I would like you to meet." A large black and grey wolf came from beneath the bush. "Although, I suspect you already know him."
"I do! I do know you!" Vivienne exclaimed and bent down. The wolf came close and placed himself into her shoulder. "He has been my dream friend for many years." She in turn buried her nose to his ruff.
"His name is Gui."
"Like William's ancestor."
Douma smiled."Aye." Vivienne found herself placed in the crook of a tree, Gui laying across her lap. "You are to stay here. Try very hard not to leave. The longer you sleep, the better. Gui will protect you." The angel turned and disappeared into the forest.
"But... where is William? Does anyone know where I am?"
The wet nose of her companion bumped itself beneath her chin.
I am coming. Sleep.
~~~...~~~
By the time William and Porcpoilue reached the forest road, Hugh, Fulks, and various FitzGisborne knights and guards had joined him, surrounding him with the familiar and comforting smell of leather and chain. It was the smell of action and warring deeds. Quickly, he mounted up, the dog ready to lead. Three deGlassons and several Millers were sent to round up Hugh and Fulks' wives, along with the servants with orders to take them to Lord William's seat in Gisborne. The hound was frantic and took off, the men hard-pressed to keep up with him.
The hound found it first. The funk of the discarded wagon quickly led them to where it had been dumped, left behind, on the side of the road. Rubbish surrounded the back of the cart, well-fed flies buzzing heartily. Several of his men gagged, but William's eyes were on the ground. He dropped from his saddle and searched the path. "Did any of you notice a man with a draft horse?"
They all shook their heads. "M'Lord, all of the merchants use heavy horses and carts."
"Especially the rubbish man," William muttered. He pointed to the dirt, where large hoof prints were sunk deep into the soft soil. "Even freed, the horse pulling this cart is still carrying a heavy load." He looked up to see Hugh standing next to him. "Do you see how deep the prints are?"
"He's carried Vivienne away." He looked up at his father, fury painted across his features. "He cannot go far or very fast." Both FitzGisborne's remounted, Porcpoilue was circling ahead, his nose to the path. It was obvious he was anxious to move.
"He cannot be far ahead." William pushed forward, following his dog ahead. Yet again, Porcpoilue took off, moving quickly, nose to the ground. The two left the others behind, moving quickly for several minutes. Suddenly, the hound stopped, looking north into the forest and began to whine.
William recognized the area, despite over a century of growth. Robin Hood had a hideout up and behind the hill some 30 minutes walk from this spot. But more important, and much to the antsiness and whining of his dog, was the woman standing in the path.
"Oh, Angel," William whispered. He dismounted and throwing the reins over the neck of his horse, he shushed the dog and put his hand on his sword. "This best be good. If any harm has come to her-"
"You must hurry." Valoel stepped to the side and gestured forward. His men were coming quickly around the bend and not quietly, at that. "They cannot hear or see me. Douma is with her and she sent me to remind you of the promise she made you regarding his demise."
"Oh," William stepped forward and unsheathed his sword. "Surely, he will die this day and most painfully." The forest was in early spring, green leaves and foliage thickening. As he stepped off the path and into the forest, he could see broken twigs and crushed wildflowers where something or someone had recently come through. Beneath that, were dried foliage from seasons past, rustling as he moved through. "A brisk breeze would be nice." He tilted his head. "You know," he then whispered, "to cover the sound of our approach."
Valoel smiled. "He should not die this day, but I know you will send him well on his way." With that, she faded into air. A breeze stirred, slowly at first before whipping up the dead leaves from previous seasons. It created a stir, a storm in the forest and leaving two guards to hold the horses, the group headed into the woods, swords drawn and the wind covering the sound of their movement.
As his men joined him, William pointed to two younger ones to hold the horses. Blades gripped tightly in their hands, they entered the forest, moving with the wind. "Do not kill him," he whispered. "He is mine."
~~~...~~~
Grey.
Grey
Mist
Vivienne opened her eyes only to close them again.
Blinding headache.
She was vaguely aware of being rocked not-so-gently.
Stench.
Gag.
Whining. A wolf's whining.
Vivienne felt a heavy, furry body cuddled up to her, warming her and giving her comfort with his presence.
'Go back to sleep,' William whispered.
'M'lord?'
Buzzing. Buzzing at her face. She swatted at the fly. 'G'way.' The swaying stopped and the world became still.
Buzzing
'Ignore it. Go back to sleep.'
'W-w-w-william?'
'I'm coming.'
~~~...~~~
Knowing the forest the way William did, navigating to where they needed to be wasn't a problem. True to his request, the wind blew hard, a potential storm whipping up into a fury. One of Hood's old hideaways was just over the hill, a leaf-covered hatch door, built into the side of a hill. When opened, it was a great enclosed solarium, open to the breeze. William remembered looking out one afternoon as the fresh scent of an English rain mingled with the aromas of Much's superior cooking skills. Robin had no clue that many entitled families – Gisborne's included – would do illegal things to obtain a cook with Much's abilities. However, when the hatch was closed, no one would know they ran over top of an entire gang of thieves. For not the first time, William wished he had canvassed the forest more thoroughly in recent years, in this lifetime. The forest was a living, breathing entity and it changed from year to year; trees falling, new ones coming up, brush, wildflowers. His own personal grove looked nothing as it had back in his first boyhood, when he hid from Isabella. Genevieve would not recognize it. He should have known and seen to Robin's old hideaways, if for no other reason than to see if they still existed, still usable, habitable. Who knows how many outlaws had stumbled on them and used them over the years.
Add another thing to the list: rescue Vivienne, find Robin's old hideouts, build a greenhouse, restore Mother's old estate...
Porcpoilue lifted his nose. A low rumble sounded in his throat, but a signal from William's hand cut him off. Within a second, the knight smelled it to.
Smoke wafting through the air. A cookfire. Close.
Very close.
~~~...~~~
The fly was becoming very annoying. It buzzed her face, returned no matter how many times she swatted at it. The wolf – Gui – was growling and snapping at the air in front of her. The gnat stung her face.
Wake up!
Vivienne brushed her cheek, knocking the bothersome thing from her face. Go away.
"Wake up!" The sting became a painful clout. "I said, wake up, bitch!" Several blows rained painfully across her face.
Vivienne's eyes jerked open, the wolf, disappearing. A man – the rubbish man – was leaning over her, hot, fetid breath wafting across her face. She recoiled at the man's stench.
"Ah," he smiled, showing several blackened teeth. "You're awake. Finally." He stood and turned away, tending to an old cauldron over a smoking fire.
~~~...~~~
There was a sharp crack that carried through the woods, the sound of flesh striking flesh, For a split second, the men stopped, horror on each face. Porcpoilue began to growl. William recovered first, his hand cupping the hound's mouth. "Silencieux." If they could hear such, he knew they were close. He led the charge forward.
~~~...~~~
Vivienne was propped against a tree. She wiggled and realized the man had tied her hands behind her back and had tied them badly. The wind was blowing briskly, blowing the leaves, foliage about like a small storm. There was a bony, obviously abused horse tied across the small dell and what looked like a leaf-covered canopy, propped up next to a small cave dug into the hill. "Who are you? Why have you taken me?"
The man stood up, his back still to Vivienne. "Finally," he whispered, his voice carrying on the wind. "Finally, I have taken someone dear to William. Finally, he will pay for taking what was mine."
"You lie!" Vivienne spat. "William has no need to take anything belonging to anyone!"
His smile turned sour. "Yes, he took what was mine." He turned his back to her again, stirring the pot once more, before heading into the darkened alcove, giving Vivienne a chance to struggle more against her bonds. "And now, I'm taking what is his," his voice echoed from the dark enclosure. She turned the rope into the palm of her hands, pulling on the knots. There. It was coming loose! The man returned from the cave, carrying what looked like a knife and branding iron from the hidey hole. Vivienne's heart seized and she struggled to keep a calm breath. Her hands were now shaking. She recognized the iron. Its prod had been imprinted in the skin of the young, murdered serving girl found most recently. Vivienne realized that unless she did something and did it quickly, she would suffer the same fate. She knew William was looking for her, but would he find her in time? The rubbish man put the prod into the fire and turned back towards her with the knife. "My name is Royce and I am the rightful owner of Harridston!" The wind whipped up, leaves and dust swirling. "I am going to make him hurt, much like he's hurt me and the best way to do that," he reached for her, grabbing her by the neck of her cloak, "is to hurt what he cares for. He cares for his possessions and that's what you are!" The knife whipped up and he slashed down, causing her to gasp in anticipation. The blade slid between her skin and clothing, splitting her cloak and dress from the neck to her waist, and sending a line of fire from her collarbone, between her breasts, where the sharp blade skimmed her. It was just a scratch, but it was long and hot and Vivienne screamed from the scorch of it.
~~~...~~~
The dell was well hidden, as William remembered. There were more twigs, fresh scrub, and fallen branches around the area, hiding it further. On the far side, a ragged, ill-kept destrier was tied to a tree, barely enough hay to feed it. Ribs were showing and it was obvious the poor thing hadn't been groomed in months.
Vivienne was on the ground, tied and furious. The brute had his back to the knights and apparently had no clue he was being observed. With a wave of his hand, William sent his men to surround the small copse, ensuring Vivienne's kidnapper did not escape. Again, he cupped Porcpoilue's muzzle.
"Rester..."
~~~...~~~
Through the haze of pain, she sensed movement in the trees, beyond the clearing. The man's malnourished horse became agitated, sensing the chaos about to ensue, but Royce was focused on the flesh exposed before him. He grabbed her left breast, bruising pale flesh. "I'm going to enjoy this."
The rope came loose and fell into her hands.
"Oh, I don't think so."
Royce looked up, grinning evilly, his fingers pinching painfully. "You don't?"
"No," Vivienne snarled. Her right hand slid to end of the rope, grasping it in a firm grip. "I think you're going to die!" With that, she threw her body up, her hand whipped about, the rope slapping Royce across the face. He reared back, twisting her breast further and roaring at the injury. He raised the knife. Both of her hands went to his wrist, her knee, meeting his groin.
At that moment, the hound lovingly referred to as 'Pig' by his master, burst from the clearing, tearing between the horse's legs, causing the beast to rear. Growling, he leaped at Royce, grabbing him at the wrist behind the knife and pulled him to the ground. His teeth sank into flesh, breaking bones in the wrist.
Soldiers, knights bled from the surrounding trees, swords and bows drawn and brandished, surrounding the fallen monster, who was screaming and fighting with the dog whose teeth were sunk into his arm. But Vivienne wasn't looking at the melee. She only had eyes for one man.
While well in his middle years, age had not touched him, despite the streak of gray at his temple. Crinkles at his eyes proved the man did smile often. There was no tell-tale paunch at his middle. Tall and lean, his eyes ranged from the blue of a cloudless summer sky to the gray of a storm. This moment, the storm raged when his sight settled on Vivienne. Fury...relief... fury again, when he noticed her state of undress. Dropping the rope, she attempted to pull her clothing together and took one step towards him, before tripping on her gown and falling on her face. She groaned as the thin cut down her chest burned anew, as dirt was ground in.
"Here." Vivienne felt herself pulled to her feet and into a familiar and welcome embrace. "Are you hurt?" He looked down, seeing the thin, red streak, the storm rising again. Taking his own cloak and wrapping her in it, she heard him muttering beneath his breath, as he tucked her beneath his chin, "Of course, you're hurt. He will die." William turned to the huddle of men and his mastiff. "DO NOT KILL HIM! HE IS MINE!"
From the group, another familiar head raised. Hugh's eyes found the woman in his father's arms. "Viv? Are you hurt?"
"He scratched her with his knife."
Fulks now raised from the din. "We get to watch, right?" His index finger was darting back and forth. "We get to help, don't tell us no, we will anyway. He harmed mine-"
"HARRIDSTON IS MINE!"
"You're going to die." Fulks retorted congenially and kicked the man in the kidneys causing him to squirm and Porcpoilue to sink his teeth further. "Besides, Harridston is mine. Who the feck are you to say 'tis yours?"
"William, you bastard! Call your dog off!"
William was basking in the feel of Vivienne in his arms. Relief washed over him. "Hugh. Fulks. The man on the ground is your mother's cousin, Royce Harridston. I suppose that makes him your cousin, as well."
Hugh took a turn to kick the man. "He's no relative of mine!" He smiled an evil smile reminiscent of his father's. "You're going to die."
Vivienne broke from William's grasp and clutching his cloak and the remnants of hers and her clothes to her, stormed across the clearing and kicked the man several times in the kidneys. She was glad that William had insisted that she procure leather boots. She got in several, well-placed strikes before being pulled back. "I hope you piss blood for the rest of your life."
William smirked to himself before reaching for her. "I think you may be correct."
Although, his life will not go on for long.
William turned her and tucked her under his chin again, feeling her shake, from anger, from fear. Before he could console her further, there was crashing from the woods, the Sheriff and several of his men tearing into the clearing. Still holding Vivienne with one arm, William motioned with the other. "Away with you. Leave. How did you find this place?"
Adamus ignored the highly ranked lord and stepped closer. "Lady Vivienne? Are you alright?"
She peeked up at him from William's embrace. "Yes."
"You left your youngest and least experienced to hold your horses! They were easy to intimidate!" He stepped back to study his fingernails. "Before you ask again, my men have worked very hard to secure Nottingham, along with The Shire. A woman disappeared from the faire and a shite-load of knights – your knights – tore from the castle, leaving few to escort their women-folk to your most secure residence. Of course I followed you and your men to see where the party was moving to!" The Sheriff was very close and was able to whisper without being heard. "Are you sure it is he and if it is, may we join in the fun?"
"There is a prod in the fire," Vivienne's voice was low. "I recognize it."
Adamus's eyebrows lifted. He walked to the fire and finding the handle sticking out, he lifted it, inspected the prod. With a satisfied frown, he set it down-
"Back in the fire, please."
Adamus did so, eyebrows still up to the sky. He turned back towards William, watched as his men rolled the soul on the ground over and tied him up, the man screaming and cursing as they did so. Porcpoilue continued to sit by him, growling, blood staining his teeth.
"Shut it," William hissed, "or I'll allow my hound to eat you!"
Royce's screams diminished to a whimper.
"William, I am sheriff-"
"And we had an agreement. If you found him, you would met justice. And if I found him, I would met justice." William stepped back from Vivienne, making sure she was covered from head to toe. "Hugh, take yourself and your men to Gisborne and take Vivienne to safety."
"Father, no!" Hugh went nose to nose with his sire. "This is a family matter," he hissed. "Who would he have gone after next had he harmed Vivienne?" For a moment, William saw Roger Gisborne in the young man's features. "'Tis my right!"
Let him.
William looked up to see Douma standing on the edge of the clearing.
Let him. 'Tis his right. He is not a squimish boy.
Adamus was whistling under his breath. He turned to the small group with him. "On second thought, as this is a family matter, I think we're not needed here." He pointed to them, sternly. "Not a word. You didn't see any of this."
"But Lady Vivienne-"
"Escaped from her captor and was found on the path. Lord William and his men pursued him and we've not heard back. We have found nothing."
As much as he hated it, William turned Vivienne loose. He tucked his cloak around her neck. "Go with Sheriff de Boneventure. He will take you to Gisborne. Do not wait up for me. I will be very late."
Vivienne looked across the clearing to the very agitated horse tied to a post. "What will you do with the horse?"
William gazed on the poor creature. It was malnourished, ribs showing, its hooves were unkept and was overall, filthy. "Vivienne-"
"If it is your thought to put him down, please do not. Let me have him."
"Vivienne-"
"A bath, a few good meals, his hooves trimmed..." She was pleading with all of her being. "My lord, will this man's blood not be enough for you? Say it will and spare this poor beast."
The question hung for what seemed forever, William finally gave in. "'Tis not the horse's fault his master was such a monster." He flipped his hand. "Adamus, take her and the horse and go. Tell my head groom to treat him gently and to feed him well. Please wait for Hugh on the path."
Hugh began to complain, demand, determined to stay. William waited until the clearing was empty save himself, his sons, and his wife's cousin. "Please hear me out."
"I want to be part of this!"
"I wish you did not. I do not wish for either one of you to be sullied in this."
"But I," Fulks spoke up, "am so ready to be sullied in the name of justice!" He looked down at Royce. "Have I kicked you in the last few minutes? No, I have not! I will rectify that now!" And with that, he proceeded to deliver several swift kicks to the man's midsection.
William watched dispassionately before returning his attention to his eldest. "This is something you will never forget, never unsee. It will make you ill, haunt you until your dying day."
"What are we waiting for?"
"Hugh-"
"He hurt Vivienne! Five minutes later and we would have been too late! Who would be next? My wife? Fulks?"
"He would turn Henriette loose within minutes," Fulks cut in. "She would talk his ear off." His fingers marched off. "He'd run. Wouldn't bother with killing her."
"You will not be dissuaded?" Hugh shook his head. "Very well. I want you to go with Adamus-"
"FATHER!"
"-and escort Vivienne to Gisborne. Your wife and Fulks' wife are there, correct?"
"Yes, but-"
"Have Margaret and your wives check Vivienne's injuries and tend to them. Tell them she is to be bathed, fed well and given something to aid her sleep. She is to be petted and tended to. Tell them not to put her in my bed, but the chambers next to my room. When you have done that, go to my room. My clothes cupboard has a false bottom. There is a satchel with many sharp and pointy objects in it. Bring my war destrier back with you. Bête is used to the scent of blood and what we will do will not both him. Bring lanterns as well. It will be dark where we are going and it will be dark when we return."
"You will not begin without me?"
"If you hurry!" William closed his eyes in thought. "Fulks? Go with him. Make sure he has everything. And bring a change of clothes for all of us." He stared down and grinned evilly at Royce. "We're going to find out how much blood is in your body."
Fulks grabbed his father's arm. "Are you sure you want to be left alone with him?"
William looked beyond his boys. Douma and Valoel were slowly circling the clearing, long wings dragging the ground, stirring up dust and leaves. He inclined his head towards Porcpoilue who was in Royce's face, blowing fetid breath. "I am not alone."
William watched and waited as his sons left the clearing before turning his attention to the bound man at his feet. With a growl, he leaned down and grabbing him by his mangled arm, hauled him up and slung him against the same tree Vivienne had been leaning against, causing Royce to howl. William squatted in front of the man, looking him in the eye and ignoring the creaking of his knees. "Any last confessions?"
"Why," he gritted out, obviously in pain, "should I confess anything to you?"
"Because the first thing I am going to do when my sons return, is cut out your tongue."
~~~...~~~
It only took a few wrings of the injured wrist, a kick or two to the already damaged kidney to get Royce to sing. His wife kicked him from their bed and her father from their home when he gave her along with several kitchen girls and a maid, nits to their nether regions. Having nowhere to go, he'd hoped Harridston would be largely deserted and therefore accommodating. Sadly, no one recognized him and when the farmer he demanded food from denied him, he spent his time in a cave, stealing food for some weeks, before stalking the farmer's daughter and killing her. It was a heady, wonderful feeling, to feel her life ebb out at his hands. After years of trying to kill William-
"Wot?"
Royce laughed, a coarse, painful sound. The man was spitting blood. "How many ambushes have you survived?" He was beginning to wheeze. "I thought I'd won the king's jewels when that knight of yours died."
William reared back on his heels, rare horror in his voice. "S'lud! You killed Vivienne's father."
"The wench?" Now he almost roared in hysteria. "That's a treat!"
"Because of you, she is in my arms. You did-" William stood up and kicked him again. "Damn your eyes! You bastard! I should have killed your great-grandmother when I had the chance."
Royce coughed up more blood. "You're insane. She was dead long before your grandfather was born!"
William squatted again, his quirky smile lengthening. "The year was 1196 and there were two Harridston sisters. Their father wanted me to marry the elder." Royce tried to sit up straighter. "Oh, what was her name... Clarae! Her name was Clarae and she was a horse-faced bitch! I see the resemblance now. Early in my marriage to Mellisande, I saw the ghost of the younger sister, Marilda. She was a whiney, foul-mouth thing. I believe Marilda eventually married a Winchester, which would make her line a relation to The Despencers. King John rewarded a loyal but landless knight with Clarae's hand. He took the Harridston name."
"So, you know my family's history. Mellisande could have told you that!"
"Do you know why the Harridstons hate the Eastbrooks?" William continued, ignoring Royce's outburst. "Because the sisters insulted Lady Aedyth, wife and lady of Lord Reginald of Eastbrookat a joust and she not only slapped the chit, but told Lord and Lady Harridston their daughters needed to be put back in swaddling." William was shaking his head in laughter.
"You're insane. If you had been there, you would have to be wot? 175?" The man snarled. "My God, you think you're Guy of Gisborne!"
Porcpoilue lifted his head, sniffing the wind. He chuffed once.
"Ah. My sons return." William rose and stirred the fire, turning the prod. "You are in for a long evening."
Royce shook his head. "You're as insane as Mellisande. Just kill me and get it over with."
"That would be too easy. I am The Master of Pain and you will be dealt a mighty portion of it this eve!" On second thought, the iron was hot. William pulled it from the fire and approached the man on the ground. "So, perish the thought. Besides I'm not going to be the one who kills you."
Royce snorted. "Who? One of your sons?"
"Oh no." William looked Royce over, wondering where to press the red-hot iron first. "The rats in the catacombs under the convent so enjoy fresh blood."
The Brothers FitzGisborne entered the clearing to the sound of screaming and the smell of searing flesh.
tbc
Stay - rester
quiet - silencieux
Beast - Bête