Chapter 4

Mathew couldn't eat much that morning. Thankfully the Sheriff was busy with other matters and was in no form to indulge in father son activities. He told Mathew to quit his sight as he was tired of seeing the ingratitude in the boys face.

He was free to wander on his own. Often he walked towards the gates. He watched the soldiers there and wondered if they would react if he walked out towards the market. Would they stop him if he ran towards the forest. He could, Mathew could run like the wind. He could run from this place and they would never catch him not even with their fine horses. But his freckled face took on a worried frown as he thought it through. They would come looking for him at the village. What if they thought him too problematic and took his younger brother back with them instead. Mathew turned from the gates and walked back towards the stables. Gisborne was there issuing orders to his men. He looked busy and just as cranky as the sheriff. Mathew turned to leave, he considered heading to the gardens instead. He stopped as he caught sight of Gisborne's sword. He went to it and carefully lifted it to look more carefully as the fine leather handle. It was only when Gisborne caught sight of him did he realise it probably wasn't a good idea to be holding his sword.

"Oh come to steal my sword have you?"

Mathew shook his head and went to put the sword back. He froze and stared as Gisborne took hold of a pitch fork.

"Perhaps you are the greatest outlaw in Sherwood Forest but I will have my sword back sir." Gisborne declared with an uncharacteristic grin.

Mathew grinned back as he took up the heavy sword and pointed it at Gisborne.

The soldiers watched with curiosity first and soon they were cheering the boy on as he bashed chips out of Gisborne's pitch fork. Gisborne was an expert swordsman and had no problem fending off the boys awkward attacks but it was fun to see Gisborne edged ever closer to the horses drinking trough and trying to avoid it. The soldiers laughed all the harder as Mathew, little boy that he was had turned vicious and was giving Gisborne a proper workout.

"What is going on here,"

The soldiers instantly ceased in their laughter as Robert De Renault stood in the courtyard.

"Gisborne have you gone mad?"

Gisborne went over and took the sword back from Mathew.

~o~

Edward pulled together what tools he could find. There was nothing substantial, a rusted old knife, a curved blade for chopping through grass, and a bow with five arrows. Alice watched with desperate eyes as he prepared to leave. She suddenly rounded on her husband.

"Ask him Edward, just ask him. There's no need for you to fight." She pleaded desperately.

He could offer no promises he put an arm around her shoulder and held her close for a minute. He then turned towards the door.

James and the other men of the village were there waiting.

"It's madness man, you'll be killed. You won't get past the castle gates." James told him.

Edward didn't even make eye contact with them. All the times he had helped them, all the times he had stuck his neck out being their spokesperson, talking with the outlaws. He shook his head. He was front and centre in any dealings with the outlaws and that's how the sheriff had gotten to know about Mathew. It was his fault.

James went to him. He took hold of his tunic in desperation and pleaded with him.

"The outlaws wouldn't even attempt to infiltrate the castle unless they were desperate. Think man, what you're doing is madness."

"Get away from me." Edward pushed him aside and began heading out of the village.

"The boy isn't hurt Edward, please. You'll be killed."

"What about your wife, who will care for her when you're dead."

Mathew stopped. Hot tears of anger pooled in his eyes. It was a battle he would not win. It was suicide. It wouldn't bring Mathew home. He turned to look back at his wife's pleading eyes.

~o~

Gisborne had been out hunting most of the day. There had also been some sport when they had caught up with some villager poachers, two young boys. They had dropped their rabbits and fled through the undergrowth, nettles and briers. Gisborne wasn't bringing his horse through there. He ordered his men to call off the search. They looked back at him with surprise in their eyes but he turned his horse and headed in the other direction. He wasn't about to answer any questioning from them. He didn't feel like hunting poachers today. It looked like a storm was approaching. He wanted to be back at the castle and out of the rain, he told himself.

The sky was dark as night as the storm raged. Gisborne was soaking wet as he went into the castle. He was starving so he headed straight for the main hall. Robert De Renault smirked as Gisborne approached.

"Well Gisborne, nice weather for ducks. Here sit, have a goblet of wine. Young Mathew here has clearly taken a vow of abstinence. He will drink nothing but buttermilk."

The sheriff was drunk already.

There was music as a company of small people danced for the company ringing bells and beating on pig skin drums decorated with feathers. Gisborne looked over at Mathew's face. He was laughing and smiling at their antics. The dancing company were pleased with such an appreciative audience for a change. They came up and did little tricks with him. He was taken with the wonderment of it and gasped every time he was caught out with their slight of hand. Gisborne poured himself a goblet of wine but found he had no stomach for it. The sheriff looked on through blood shot eyes as the boy got up to dance with them. They gave him a drum to beat and asked him to sing a song. They were surprised and pleased when he agreed. The people of his village had nothing but what they had were songs and dancing for the rare occasions when there was something to celebrate.

Mathew stood up on a stool they brought for him and he sang the Fox in the Trees and old village ballad his mother always wanted him to sing for her. He sang it slow and his voice was beautiful, there was hushed silence as he sang. Everyone stopped in their work to listen and for once they were relaxed standing in the large hall. When he had finished dancers, servants and even Gisborne clapped his performance. Mathew blushed as red as his hair and smiled with embarrassment and pleasure. Once the clapping died down Mathew's smile faded as he noticed the slow clapping of the sheriff. He clapped on with a nasty smirk upon his face.

"Well done but I wanted a son, not a kings fool."

The servants all laughed because they had to. Gisborne looked over at the Sheriff, he could smell him from here, a stale mix of wine and sweat. He got up and left the chamber. He had to change out of his clothes anyway. He went to his room, there was a servant girl there lighting the candles.

"Get out," he barked at her.

She went to hurry out past him, but as he spoke again she froze.

"Thank you,"

She was so shocked she looked up at him. She had beautiful eyes he couldn't help but notice.

"What is your name?"

"Sara, my lord."

"Sara, please collect Mathew from the main hall. Put him to bed."

"At once my Lord,"

"Thank you,"

Gisborne lay down on his bed. He thought of the Sheriff, his bloodshot eyes his depressing view of life. The young steward closed his eyes against the thoughts crashing in on him.

~o~

Mathew was handed a clean night shirt.

"Thank you," he said making eye contact with her.

"You're the talk of the castle you are with your lovely voice. Everyone has said it, you ought to be singing at the fair."

Mathew grinned with embarrassment as she kissed the top of his head and he got under the sheepskin covers. She handed him the book Gisborne had given him and she slipped out of the room.

It was hours later when he was awoken. The fire had gone out and he watched with nervous fear as the door creaked open and a dark figure came in carrying in one hand a small sack.

~o~

Edward came out with a pan to feed their few chickens. This was a task he had done every morning since they had taken Mathew. It was bitterly cold but he did not care such was his heart. Nothing mattered anymore.

"Father,"

Edward straightened up and saw the little figure standing in the yard. He found he could not speak. He dropped the pan and stumbled forward. Mathew dropped the sack he was carrying. He laughed with happiness as he ran into his fathers arms and was lifted into his embrace. His father swung him around in sheer happiness and relief.

His mother sobbed as she came running out and took him in her arms and his little brother danced around them so happy to see his playmate back again. Edward's smile faded as his keen eyes picked out the horseman riding slowly away through the forest.

They had a fine feast that morning on the meat that Mathew had brought home with him. As father and son sat at the table talking she unpacked his sack. His old clothes were in it, she smiled as she found the pockets stuffed with bits of old food. There was something at the bottom of the sack. She frowned as she lifted it out.

She knew it to be a book but it was very beautiful. She ran a hand over the embellished bird on the cover.

The End.