Chapter twelve:
Marian's POV:
Entering Sherwood felt like I was breaking a rule. Why would I be here, knowing that Robin and Much wouldn't be joining me? Running, as fast as I could, I passed the usual spots; our clearing, the tree in which Robin had carved our initials in, and the trees we used to climb.
I realised how dark it now was, it shouldn't be this dark, it was only about nine o'clock in the evening, it shouldn't be dark until at least eleven o'clock. The trees were very thick in this part of the forest, and they were blocking the light from coming in.
An idea suddenly crossed my mind, I began to climb to the top of one of the trees. Reaching the top, I breathed in the calm, evening air. In the distance, the lit-up windows of my home shone, I needed to go further into the forest, like mother had ordered.
I began to climb down, when something brushed my arm, my eyes landed on the object, causing the air to be sucked out of my mouth.
Implanted in the tree, was a single arrow.
It was positioned at a weird angle, as if it whoever shot it wasn't looking. Pulling it out of the tree, I studied the object. The arrow was durable, but light weight and flexible. It had barely changed, since I'd last saw it. The fletching was still coated in light blue paint.
Once my feet touched the floor, I let out a breath I didn't realise I was holding.
It couldn't be pure coincidence that I'd chose to climb the very tree that my lost arrow was stuck in. Twirling it once, I popped it in my quiver, to complete the set. What was weird, was that I never actually realised I was missing one.
Why was it today that I found this? What did this mean?
Walking deeper and deeper into the forest, I came across a clearing, with a small river in the middle. Having never been this far into the forest before, I went to investigate.
The river stretched farther than my eyes could see, and turned back into the forest. It wasn't flowing very fast, and it looked very cool on this heated, summer night.
The water appeared to be very clean, and I had been walking for ages, so I decided to take a drink.
I knelt down by the side of the river, care fully taking off my bow and quiver, and placing them next to me. Cupping my hands, I managed to drink some, although half of it went down my shirt. I didn't really mind though; the cool water was welcome to cool down my exhausted body.
Seeing as I was far enough into the forest, and it wasn't quite dark yet, I might as well just rest here for a while. Sitting down, I pulled all of the arrows out of my quiver.
Laying all ten out in front of me, I noticed a difference between the rest and the one I'd found today. The other nine arrows' fletching seemed to have faded in colour over time, while the other one's fletching stayed bright.
The usual adult's quiver held around sixty arrows, but I'd never wanted any more. I was fine with the ones I had.
Comparing them, I never realised how much the colour had faded. It was like that part of my life was bright and colourful, whereas my life now seemed more dull, sad almost.
This single arrow managed to preserve my happy childhood, in itself.
The sky was almost dark now, time to head back. During my little adventure, I had completely forgotten about my parents and what they were facing back at home.
Jumping up, I put my arrows back in my quiver and strapped my bow back on. Giving the clearing a last glance, I wished I could capture the picturesque scene. The way the sunset reflected onto the calm water, was breath-taking. The trees surrounding the clearing was basked in the warm embrace of the sun.
Tearing my eyes away, I began the trek back to the horror which was undoubtedly waiting for me.
Robin's POV:
None of us had any clue as to which the King had fled in. We simply picked the way the sun was shining, and kept walking.
The heat beat down on us, it was relentless. There was so shade, no safety from the ongoing torture, our heavy chainmail suits soaked up the heat, like a sponge in water.
After an eternity of painful walking, another tent came into view. This one was surrounded by men wearing our uniform, sitting on benches and eating. When we were closer, they began to raise their swords, ready to attack but stood down once they'd realised, we were on their side.
John went to go get some food, while Much, father and I went to find the King. Unlike the last time, father didn't let Much or I out of his sight, I think he was scared something would happen to us.
Perhaps the tent had shaken him up more than he let on. I could already picture the faces of those men haunting me for the rest of my life. Their foggy eyes were still open in shock, and mouths screaming in silence.
Snapping out of my dark thought, Much was asking me something.
"What do you reckon they're eating?" Yet again, he was thinking about food, "Oh, I do hope it's roast chicken, or maybe lamb!"
"Well, fingers crossed!" Replying, I hoped to sound sincere.
From what I'd heard, food and resources were very low here, so Much would be lucky if he got anything to eat, let alone roast chicken!
Our meal consisted of a few pieces of stale bread and a small cup of dirty water.
Father had trusted us to stay put, while he went to find the King again. The soldiers sitting around us were not as large as Little John, but they were definitely bigger, and older than Much and I. There were roughly fifty of them, and only five of them were even close to our age, the closest on looked about seventeen. I was beginning to think we were in over our heads.
All of a sudden, everyone around us stood up, in attention. There was only one person who could make the men this attentive.
King Richard the Lionheart, stood next to my father. He motioned for everyone to sit down, and introduced father.
"My men, this is Thomas, Lord of Locksley." A few soldiers clapped at that, "I believe that his sons are also here." The King scanned the tables until his eyes fell on us.
Father had told everyone that Much was his other son. It would be too complicated to explain that Much was actually my servant, but more like my overly-loyal best friend.
After everyone had gone back to their conversations, father came over and told Much and I that the King had asked for our presence, in his tent.
Not sure what this was about, we went in a little anxious. King Richard was sat at his big oak desk, pouring over another large map, like the one at the previous tent. There was no hard surface to knock on, so I coughed loudly.
Looking up, King Richard welcomed us in, and asked us to sit down. Much looked like he could puke again, facing my ruler was making me feel the same way! But I took a deep breath and screwed my courage to the sticking place.
"I want to start off by saying that I think you two are very, very brave for even being here. It takes a great amount of courage to leave everything behind, and come to serve your country!" The lines beside his mouth creased in a smile.
The Lionheart had scars all over him, he must live up to his name. His blonde hair looked dirty and his golden crown was crusted in blood, his eyes were sunken from a lack of sleep but his smile didn't falter.
"Thank you, your Highness," Much and I said, in unison.
"Ah," he waved his hands in dismissal, "you boys don't need to worry about all of those rubbish formalities! Feel free to call me Richard!" Richard took off his crown and put it at the side of his desk, as if it were nothing but a paperweight!
We stayed in his room for a while, before he excused himself. He said to was to strategize, but due to his posture, I guessed he was going to bed.
The sky was dark now, but it was still hot. Much hadn't said anything for a while, so I asked him if he was alright.
"It's just a lot in one day, you know?" He rubbed his elbow, "I've never seen this amount of death before."
"I know how you feel, you're not the only one who's overwhelmed. Let's just get some sleep, maybe it will be better in the morning." Patting his back, we found the sleeping area.
There were no beds, just a thick mat with a thin blanket laid over it. It wouldn't have mattered if it I was in the comfiest bed in the world, sleep did not come easy to me that night.
I didn't think our time in the holy land would be as short lived as I'd hoped.
Laying on my back, I looked up into the sky, and imagined a certain girl's melodious laugh, and mesmerising eyes.
Marian's POV:
Coming up to my back garden, I hide behind a tree when I saw that the lights were still on. Silently, I crept up to the window which looked into the meeting room.
The room was empty, all chairs were tucked in and the door was shut.
Standing up fully, I sighed a breath of relief. Gisborne must have left, perhaps my parents had got the best of him.
I started to open the door leading onto the kitchen, at the back of the house. Our servants had left to go home, so the house was quiet. Walking past the hall, I began to walk to the lounge, it was were my parents usually were at this time of night.
But a scream stopped me dead in my tracks.
The shrill scream of my mother sounded as if it came from the entrance hall. What was going on?
A door leading from the kitchen opened up into the hall, but I knew that if I peered my head around the corner, I would be seen. My fingers closed around the small hand mirror that Robin had given me for my birthday last year.
Opening it up, I positioned it so that it was poking around the corner. This way, I was still able to see, without getting caught.
What I saw made me want to scream too, no wonder mother had!
Gisborne held my mother's hands behind her back with one hand, and the other held a silver, jewel incrusted dagger which was pressed against mother's neck.
Father was stood opposite the both of them, his hands were shaking. Was it with anger, or fear?
Mother's face was calm, despite being faced with death, whilst Gregory's was fixed in an evil snarl.
Father was facing with his back to me, but I could imagine his expression was the opposite of mother's.
"Ever since we were boys, you always thought you were better than me!" Gisborne shouted at my father.
"Gregory, calm down! Don't you think that you might be slightly overreacting?" Father hastened.
Mother squirmed slightly but Gisborne's grip was iron.
"You knew full well I am not overreacting, you buffoon! I've loved Elsie ever since I first saw her, and you took her from me! She shouldn't be with a coward like you, I served my King!" He roared.
"Did it ever occur to you, that maybe, Elsie didn't want you? Stop pretending that there was ever anything there, except from politeness!" Father was shouting too now.
Changing the angle of my mirror slightly, I managed to catch the light and direct it into mother's eyes. At first, she was confused, until I redirected the light again, and she saw my face in the mirror.
A wave of relief rolled over her face, but them panic set in. She didn't want me seeing this.
"How dare you?!" Guy's father bellowed.
"Look, let's take this slowly. Just give Elsie back, and we can talk about this." Father looked as if he was taming a lion, hands outstretched, voice gentle.
Gisborne's grip seemed to loosen slightly, as if he was agreeing. But then, the white came back on his knuckles.
"Gregory, please," mother whispered.
"No, you think that you have everything?! I'll show you!" He was still looking at my father.
"There's no need for this, what is it that you want?" Mother attempted reason, but to no avail.
"I want you! I always have, and you know it."
"You can't always get what you want, Gregory. Now, just let go!"
All of a sudden, Gisborne let her go! Mother stumbled towards father, gasping for air.
Gregory still looked resentful.
Mother and father were hugging now, both of them sobbing into each other's shoulders. Father turned, so that his back was to Gisborne.
Relief rolled through me, but it was short lived.
"If I can't have you, no one can!" Gregory Gisborne screamed, taking a step forward with his dagger pointing outward.
Opening her eyes, mother saw it coming before father did. Mother gripped father's shoulders tightly, and spun around.
Gisborne's dagger dove straight into mother's back.