p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"Gisburne had spent the entire day inspecting villages, as well as the forest in which they were located, though he and the soldiers who accompanied him had never stayed anywhere for long. He had not considered this necessary - apart from the fact that it was never pleasant - since the peasants and serfs had to pay what they owed to the crown and their Norman masters in a few days anyway. Michaelmas was the day of the year when, in addition to fines, rent for their miserable dwellings and the fields was due, and he didn't want to give them any excuse to pretend that he was in some ways to blame for the fact that they lacked the money. He credited these Saxons with just about everything./span/p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"But this year it would be much harder for them to wriggle out of their obligations, and when he thought about that, for once he almost felt something like happiness about spending a day on Fury's back. Every now and then he had even been able to forget that he was really only out and about simply as a result of what the sheriff had required of him, not because he was at liberty to do as he pleased. If he tried a little harder, he could pretend it had been his own idea and he would have been able to decide for himself what he wanted to do with the day. At least for a brief moment./span/p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"However, with Robin Hood gone and his followers scattered to the four winds - except for 'Lady' Marion who was with her father and a rumor that the monk was still in Sherwood - he no longer had to bother with tracking down the Wolfsheads who supported the peasants and undermined the authority of the sheriff. The vermin that now still lived in the forest gave him no trouble, and some days his duties were so dull that he actually longed to get back to fighting Hood. Apparently, it was true that working for the sheriff gradually took one's mind away. He had no other explanation for such tendencies./span/p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"Nevertheless, the knight was aware that he had never given a thought previously to how his life would change after the outlaw's death, apart from the vague notion that everything must get better. Of course, Hood had turned out to be a pest, but on the other hand, he had also given Gisburne the opportunity to get out of the castle and to do so almost every day. But now ... the sheriff stopped him from riding through the villages very frequently, arguing that his presence there was not necessary. It was also true that the villagers were too afraid to offer much opposition since there was no one left to come to their aid. Therefore, Gisburne was not needed, at least not to intimidate the peasants. For this reason, de Rainault was now taking up much more of his time and the knight had come to realize that this did not suit him at all. It seemed odd, but Hood's demise had robbed him of his freedom. This was something he could in no way have foreseen./span/p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"But on this day he had finally been able to grab the opportunity to get out of the castle and he had tried to enjoy it. However, as he passed through the villages, he noticed how the residents were trying to keep the preparations for a feast from him, and that's when he was reminded that this was the time when the peasants thanked God for the harvest He had given them. It was this that they wanted to celebrate on this day, even though Gisburne was sure that many of them would not be thanking God, but Herne. But this was not something he needed to concern himself with. He was happy to leave that to Abbot Hugo, for it was his responsibility. He himself was just not permitted to miss any signs of poaching./span/p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"But instead of looking for them, he remembered that he had actually managed in the past, during some years, to mingle with people in more distant villages without being recognized. He had, of course, always chosen such locations where he was not known in his capacity as a knight of the local sheriff, and in this manner he too had been able to participate in this feast. It was then, that for a short time, it was as if he was getting back a part of his childhood. And each time he only remembered afterwards that even as a child he had rarely had the opportunity to celebrate Mabon carefree. It was something he was only too willing to forget, and he resented being reminded of it. Indeed, he would like to forget about this time, yet this proved to be impossible for him./span/p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"This year, however, there would be no opportunity to leave the castle under any pretext - Hood had always proved useful in this regard - and he knew he would not get the chance to celebrate anything. De Rainault, while well informed about the 'pagan' revelries - as he called them - was not in the least interested in allowing anything like that to take place in the castle. Gisburne was not really surprised about this, after all, these holidays were not really considered Christian and, above all, they were only being celebrated by Saxons. Therefore, the knight would never have thought of mentioning to the sheriff that participation in the peasants' festivities was almost his only happy childhood memory. If de Rainault had learned about this, it would have been a disaster./span/p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"However, this was not the only reason why he had to forego abandoning his role as a Norman knight for one night in this year. He had thoroughly enjoyed, for a brief period of time in years past, not having to be the man the sheriff had made him in his service. For a few hours he had had the opportunity not to be the person he had turned into in order to survive, and which - in normal circumstances - he also did not reflect upon, as it would not have done him any good. He had realized early on that he was not supposed to reflect on what he had become, otherwise it would drive him mad. Therefore, he refrained from doing so for the greater part of the year. But every now and then it was necessary to escape from this role, and the peasants' holidays were such an opportunity. This year, however, he was quite relieved not to be able to celebrate Mabon, as this was always a time for reflection about the past year and what had transpired. He was aware, however, that he did not want to dwell on Hood's death, and so he would have avoided the feast of his own accord./span/p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"And yet that was what had happened. As odd as it appeared to him, he nevertheless thought of Robin Hood in the context of his own freedom. With his death, it seemed that he had also lost something, and that should not be the case. Unfortunately, he was only too aware, as soon as he had started to reflect on all of this, that in the end he always reached the conclusion that this amounted to the truth, even if he did not really want to admit it. All he could do was hope to have forgotten it by tomorrow, otherwise these insights would weigh heavily on him and he wanted to prevent carrying them around with him in addition to all his other burdens. That would be more than he was willing to bear. Unfortunately, the only solution accessible to him was to forget about everything. It would be even better if he could manage to permanently do without these memories, however, he had no idea of how to accomplish that./span/p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"Gisburne cursed under his breath, for now the very thing he had wanted to avoid at all costs had occurred. Hood had once again managed to get inside his head. Why was it so difficult for him to stop worrying about the man who had made his life so miserable? Why was he unable to rejoice over his death? He knew from experience that it would be quite impossible for him to quickly banish him from his thoughts again. Once he had taken hold, it was too late to do anything about it. He would stay there until the knight got a chance to get drunk beyond reason. Only in this manner was he able to forget./span/p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"It was always an odd experience to ponder Hood, as he was regularly overcome with the impression that something was missing from his life. Gisburne was well aware that this made no sense, but he could not help wondering if he had missed opportunities only due to the fact that the other man was no longer around. However, he could never remember that it had appeared that way to him in the past. So, what had changed for him?/span/p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"In the past few months, he had even found himself sometimes worrying about what Hood was doing at that very moment, or what he might have planned. And then, all of a sudden, he would remember that the other one was gone. Then there were those dreams in which the knight - to his great horror - found himself at Hood's side, fighting beside him. Later, he then realized that in his dreams, it was never the case that the other man had entered the service of the sheriff. Instead, it was he who had gone into the forest. He absolutely could not figure out where such dreams were coming from, for he feared the forest. Never would he have gone to Hood of his own accord. At least that's what he told himself every time he was plagued by such a dream anew./span/p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"He did not want to believe that there had been opportunities he had missed while the Wolfshead was still alive. Whatever should they have been? It could not be possible that he should have secretly wished that the other man be a friend. After all, he had been a peasant, a Saxon, an outlaw, while he himself was a Norman knight of noble lineage. The two of them had not the slightest bit in common, and never could they have become friends. Moreover, the other man had never treated him other than with contempt. In this respect he had behaved in a similar way to the sheriff, and Gisburne had never - not even in his dreams - considered being friends with de Rainault. Why should it be any different with Hood?/span/p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"When the knight reached the castle at last towards evening, he was already deeply immersed in his memories of Herne's son and it was difficult for him to focus on what was going on around him. He was fortunate in that the sheriff was not in attendance as he was visiting his brother at the abbey. Apparently, the two of them had some things to discuss concerning Michaelmas that they did not want any witnesses to. Gisburne was more than fine with that./span/p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"On that evening, no one prevented him from drinking more of the wine than he usually did, and no one reproached him. He himself was only aware that he had to take care not to dream. He knew he would not be able to get Hood out of his head otherwise. He was only able to avoid dreams - or rather, he was only able to avoid remembering his dreams later on - when he was drunk to the gills. Unfortunately, he had found that this required more wine every time than it had previously. Fortunately, this was not a problem in the castle, as long as he did not expect the swill to taste great. But once he had emptied a certain number of cups, he did not care about the taste. All that mattered to him at that point was that numbness and detachment would take hold of him, for then he would be on the right path./span/p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"He was not aware that this also meant that he would later not be able to recall Hood inviting him to join him in a dream. He would also not remember being asked to fight on the side of justice. Doing so was in fact something he had not been able to accomplish while the other man was still alive, and now, after his death, the knight was forever denied that opportunity. He would also never know that it was not the wine that made it possible for him not to be able to remember what he missed./span/p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"So, he emptied cup after cup, hoping he could wipe out his memories - and his dreams - this time for good./span/p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"But this year it would be much harder for them to wriggle out of their obligations, and when he thought about that, for once he almost felt something like happiness about spending a day on Fury's back. Every now and then he had even been able to forget that he was really only out and about simply as a result of what the sheriff had required of him, not because he was at liberty to do as he pleased. If he tried a little harder, he could pretend it had been his own idea and he would have been able to decide for himself what he wanted to do with the day. At least for a brief moment./span/p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"However, with Robin Hood gone and his followers scattered to the four winds - except for 'Lady' Marion who was with her father and a rumor that the monk was still in Sherwood - he no longer had to bother with tracking down the Wolfsheads who supported the peasants and undermined the authority of the sheriff. The vermin that now still lived in the forest gave him no trouble, and some days his duties were so dull that he actually longed to get back to fighting Hood. Apparently, it was true that working for the sheriff gradually took one's mind away. He had no other explanation for such tendencies./span/p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"Nevertheless, the knight was aware that he had never given a thought previously to how his life would change after the outlaw's death, apart from the vague notion that everything must get better. Of course, Hood had turned out to be a pest, but on the other hand, he had also given Gisburne the opportunity to get out of the castle and to do so almost every day. But now ... the sheriff stopped him from riding through the villages very frequently, arguing that his presence there was not necessary. It was also true that the villagers were too afraid to offer much opposition since there was no one left to come to their aid. Therefore, Gisburne was not needed, at least not to intimidate the peasants. For this reason, de Rainault was now taking up much more of his time and the knight had come to realize that this did not suit him at all. It seemed odd, but Hood's demise had robbed him of his freedom. This was something he could in no way have foreseen./span/p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"But on this day he had finally been able to grab the opportunity to get out of the castle and he had tried to enjoy it. However, as he passed through the villages, he noticed how the residents were trying to keep the preparations for a feast from him, and that's when he was reminded that this was the time when the peasants thanked God for the harvest He had given them. It was this that they wanted to celebrate on this day, even though Gisburne was sure that many of them would not be thanking God, but Herne. But this was not something he needed to concern himself with. He was happy to leave that to Abbot Hugo, for it was his responsibility. He himself was just not permitted to miss any signs of poaching./span/p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"But instead of looking for them, he remembered that he had actually managed in the past, during some years, to mingle with people in more distant villages without being recognized. He had, of course, always chosen such locations where he was not known in his capacity as a knight of the local sheriff, and in this manner he too had been able to participate in this feast. It was then, that for a short time, it was as if he was getting back a part of his childhood. And each time he only remembered afterwards that even as a child he had rarely had the opportunity to celebrate Mabon carefree. It was something he was only too willing to forget, and he resented being reminded of it. Indeed, he would like to forget about this time, yet this proved to be impossible for him./span/p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"This year, however, there would be no opportunity to leave the castle under any pretext - Hood had always proved useful in this regard - and he knew he would not get the chance to celebrate anything. De Rainault, while well informed about the 'pagan' revelries - as he called them - was not in the least interested in allowing anything like that to take place in the castle. Gisburne was not really surprised about this, after all, these holidays were not really considered Christian and, above all, they were only being celebrated by Saxons. Therefore, the knight would never have thought of mentioning to the sheriff that participation in the peasants' festivities was almost his only happy childhood memory. If de Rainault had learned about this, it would have been a disaster./span/p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"However, this was not the only reason why he had to forego abandoning his role as a Norman knight for one night in this year. He had thoroughly enjoyed, for a brief period of time in years past, not having to be the man the sheriff had made him in his service. For a few hours he had had the opportunity not to be the person he had turned into in order to survive, and which - in normal circumstances - he also did not reflect upon, as it would not have done him any good. He had realized early on that he was not supposed to reflect on what he had become, otherwise it would drive him mad. Therefore, he refrained from doing so for the greater part of the year. But every now and then it was necessary to escape from this role, and the peasants' holidays were such an opportunity. This year, however, he was quite relieved not to be able to celebrate Mabon, as this was always a time for reflection about the past year and what had transpired. He was aware, however, that he did not want to dwell on Hood's death, and so he would have avoided the feast of his own accord./span/p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"And yet that was what had happened. As odd as it appeared to him, he nevertheless thought of Robin Hood in the context of his own freedom. With his death, it seemed that he had also lost something, and that should not be the case. Unfortunately, he was only too aware, as soon as he had started to reflect on all of this, that in the end he always reached the conclusion that this amounted to the truth, even if he did not really want to admit it. All he could do was hope to have forgotten it by tomorrow, otherwise these insights would weigh heavily on him and he wanted to prevent carrying them around with him in addition to all his other burdens. That would be more than he was willing to bear. Unfortunately, the only solution accessible to him was to forget about everything. It would be even better if he could manage to permanently do without these memories, however, he had no idea of how to accomplish that./span/p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"Gisburne cursed under his breath, for now the very thing he had wanted to avoid at all costs had occurred. Hood had once again managed to get inside his head. Why was it so difficult for him to stop worrying about the man who had made his life so miserable? Why was he unable to rejoice over his death? He knew from experience that it would be quite impossible for him to quickly banish him from his thoughts again. Once he had taken hold, it was too late to do anything about it. He would stay there until the knight got a chance to get drunk beyond reason. Only in this manner was he able to forget./span/p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"It was always an odd experience to ponder Hood, as he was regularly overcome with the impression that something was missing from his life. Gisburne was well aware that this made no sense, but he could not help wondering if he had missed opportunities only due to the fact that the other man was no longer around. However, he could never remember that it had appeared that way to him in the past. So, what had changed for him?/span/p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"In the past few months, he had even found himself sometimes worrying about what Hood was doing at that very moment, or what he might have planned. And then, all of a sudden, he would remember that the other one was gone. Then there were those dreams in which the knight - to his great horror - found himself at Hood's side, fighting beside him. Later, he then realized that in his dreams, it was never the case that the other man had entered the service of the sheriff. Instead, it was he who had gone into the forest. He absolutely could not figure out where such dreams were coming from, for he feared the forest. Never would he have gone to Hood of his own accord. At least that's what he told himself every time he was plagued by such a dream anew./span/p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"He did not want to believe that there had been opportunities he had missed while the Wolfshead was still alive. Whatever should they have been? It could not be possible that he should have secretly wished that the other man be a friend. After all, he had been a peasant, a Saxon, an outlaw, while he himself was a Norman knight of noble lineage. The two of them had not the slightest bit in common, and never could they have become friends. Moreover, the other man had never treated him other than with contempt. In this respect he had behaved in a similar way to the sheriff, and Gisburne had never - not even in his dreams - considered being friends with de Rainault. Why should it be any different with Hood?/span/p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"When the knight reached the castle at last towards evening, he was already deeply immersed in his memories of Herne's son and it was difficult for him to focus on what was going on around him. He was fortunate in that the sheriff was not in attendance as he was visiting his brother at the abbey. Apparently, the two of them had some things to discuss concerning Michaelmas that they did not want any witnesses to. Gisburne was more than fine with that./span/p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"On that evening, no one prevented him from drinking more of the wine than he usually did, and no one reproached him. He himself was only aware that he had to take care not to dream. He knew he would not be able to get Hood out of his head otherwise. He was only able to avoid dreams - or rather, he was only able to avoid remembering his dreams later on - when he was drunk to the gills. Unfortunately, he had found that this required more wine every time than it had previously. Fortunately, this was not a problem in the castle, as long as he did not expect the swill to taste great. But once he had emptied a certain number of cups, he did not care about the taste. All that mattered to him at that point was that numbness and detachment would take hold of him, for then he would be on the right path./span/p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"He was not aware that this also meant that he would later not be able to recall Hood inviting him to join him in a dream. He would also not remember being asked to fight on the side of justice. Doing so was in fact something he had not been able to accomplish while the other man was still alive, and now, after his death, the knight was forever denied that opportunity. He would also never know that it was not the wine that made it possible for him not to be able to remember what he missed./span/p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"So, he emptied cup after cup, hoping he could wipe out his memories - and his dreams - this time for good./span/p