SQUEE! Thx for the review TaserdbyJack! I'm glad you like! I've read a few of your fics too and they're awesome! I love all of them that I have read! Just a thought, are you on the RH forums, cuz that's where I read your fics? I'm teawithsilk on there by the way, a bit too shy for my own good. Oh, almost forgot, yes the guard really got hanged, but it was the other one not Simon. I probably could've written that better, sorry. And that's all I'm going to tell you for now! lol
Thx for reading and please, please, review!
P.S. I was going to make it longer but I was too busy. Sorry everyone
Chapter Two- Decisions, Decisions
Warren absentmindedly rode through Sherwood. His sister was going to absolutely hate him. First he had taken her away from Thomas, then he had dragged her back to Marlborough, and now he would have to bring her to Nottingham. Warren didn't know whether it was proper to let her stay at Marlborough Castle alone or whether it was safe to bring her to Nottingham. Margaret would hate either suggestion in the first place.
He kicked his horse to go faster as it began to rain, a cold icy rain. When he thought about it, her unhappiness wasn't really his fault. Gisbourne and Prince John were equally to blame, but then again it was him who had proposed the plan. Warren sighed, it was his fault. Though, they didn't even really know if Thomas was dead. Gisbourne only stabbed him, and he had not died instantly. Warren thought he heard footsteps but dismissed it as nothing.
An arrow suddenly flew by his head and his horse reared on its back legs. Warren was thrown off of his horse, landing in the muddy road. "Jesu-"
"There's nothing to curse over, my good man." Robin appeared in his hood behind a few trees. Much and Allan were on the other side of the road, watching Warren carefully.
"Who are you?" Warren asked, irritated. He picked himself up off the road and brushed some of the mud from his trousers. "And what authority do you have to stop me?"
"I am Robin Hood. I am the resident outlaw of Sherwood Forest and I have all the authority I give myself," the outlaw laughed. "And the two men standing behind you are Allan and Much." Robin laughed even more as the subject of his ambush turned quickly to look at the other members of his gang. "No harm will come to you if you do as I say." He walked into the road and stood next to Warren. "Since I have ruined your clothes, I will only take a few coins."
"But Master, he is a noble!" Much put a hand in his hip. "He can afford new clothing."
"How would you know if I was a noble, you filth outlaw?" Marlborough sneered.
"My master is Robin of Locksley. I know nobles when I see them. And I am not filthy, I try to wash on a regular basis!" The manservant pouted. "Master, are you going to let him insult me like that?"
"Quiet, Much. It is raining, I want to get this over with." He looked up at the sky through the trees.
"You are Robin of Locksley?" Warren glared at him. "Former leader of the King's Guard? That Robin of Locksley?"
"I am." Robin became more serious. "Why does that concern you?"
"No reason in particular." Warren kept his eyes on Robin and then gave him a menacing grin. "How is Lady Marian these days?"
The outlaw leader charged at him. "Robin, no!" Little John came from virtually nowhere and held Robin back. "You!" He faced Warren. "Leave!"
Warren quickly mounted his horse and rode in the direction of Nottingham. He was starting to think that Nottingham might not be so safe for his sister.
"John," Alice called from the outside of the chapel, "you have a visitor."
The boy ran to greet his family, "Mother!" He collided with her, nearly knocking her over.
His mother hugged him tightly. "I've missed you." She headed towards the chapel with her son, "How is Friar Tuck?"
"He's well, mother." Little, Little John made a face. "He always smells of wine though."
They could hear Margaret chuckle from the carriage she was getting out of. "He does, does he?"
John darted through the grass to Margaret. "Tag!"
The noblewoman looked around to see if anyone was around, then picked up her skirts and chased after John. "Come back here!"
Alice felt as if she had two children. "John, Lady Margaret! I advise you to stop!"
Friar Tuck waddled out of the chapel, clearly having had a few alcoholic beverages beforehand. "Stop what?" He saw John chase after Margaret after she had tagged him. "Oh that. It's not that bad. Let me correct myself, she's not that bad."
"Lady Margaret!" Alice said as loudly as she could. "I have someone to introduce you to!"
Tuck grinned at the prospect of the young woman. He watched as she ungracefully ran after his apprentice and tripped. "I'll help you to your feet, my lady!" The friar eagerly jogged to Margaret whose smile had turned to a look of disgust.
He put his hands on her waist and roughly hauled her to her feet. "How old are you, Lady Margaret?"
"I am nineteen." She smoothed the wrinkled out of her green dress, which now had a noticeable grass stain on the back leg.
"They keep getting younger, don't they?" The intoxicated friar put the grin back on his stout face.
"And the unwanted men keep getting older, now don't they friar?" She muttered inaudibly under her breath.
Alice walked swiftly to where her mistress and Tuck stood. "May I introduce to you Friar Tuck." Margaret shot her a glance. "And to you, Friar Tuck, may I introduce Lady Margaret of Marlborough."
"Of Marlborough? You're not related to that contemptible Sir Warren of Marlborough, are you?"
"He is my elder brother, friar." Margaret bit her lip. She that if Warren had been there Tuck wouldn't be breathing. "I deeply recommend you do not let Warren hear you speak that way."
"I'm not afraid of him." The middle-aged man straightened his shoulders. "I would fight Sir Warren in an instant." He leant down and planted a sloppy kiss on her hand. "What is with that ring?"
Margaret rested her eyes on the silver banded ring that she had to wear on her middle finger since it was too large for her ring finger. The stone was an amazingly deep shade of black ebony. "I just like it, friar."
"Don't try to fool me, my lady. Who is the lucky man you are betrothed to?"
"I am not betrothed to anyone." Margaret had not taken her eyes from the ring.
"A lover then? Are you a woman in waiting?"
"I am not, but then maybe I am in a way. It is not from a lover."
"Is the fair Lady Margaret a widow?"
"No. I will only tell you one thing: I know more," she paused, "more than my years are able."
John, who had only just realized that Margaret had ceased chasing him, was growing bored. "She doesn't like you, friar."
"Fetch us some wine, boy," he snapped.
"Um, I feel a tiny bit unwell." Margaret started to walk backwards towards her carriage. She detested the thought of having to spend any more time with Friar Tuck. "I think I'll just wait over this way." Her strides got longer as she neared her carriage.
Alice gazed at her with eyes that seemed to tell Margaret not to leave her with Friar Tuck. The lady was too far away to turn back and save her servant.
"Err, I have to leave as well, friar. Good day!" She followed after Margaret. "Goodbye, John!"
"Gisbourne!" Vaysey's voice echoed through the halls of Nottingham Castle. "Gisbourne!"
"I am here, my lord!" Guy appeared from a hallway. "Is something the matter?"
"We have a visitor!" The sheriff happily continued on his way down the hall, blissfully unaware of Guy rolling his eyes behind him. "He is waiting in the courtyard. His name is Sir Warren of Marlborough, a follower of Prince John."
"Sir Warren of Marlborough?" Guy asked. Was it the same man from the Holy Land? He suddenly felt sick as the memories overcame him. He had worked hard to forget his past sins but with one name they were taking over him. "I feel unwell, my lord. Please excuse me."
Sir Guy scuttled to his chamber at the castle. He closed the door behind him and let himself fall face down on the bed. Gisbourne buried his face in the pillow. One memory in particular kept coming back to him. Guy had to use all of his power not to think about it. It would lead to trying to kill the king, that would lead to him feeling horrible about himself, that would lead to his murders of innocent people on the streets of Nottingham. And all of it would lead to her. Gisbourne couldn't, wouldn't think of her. That was how he dealt with loss, with sorrow. He hid it away from the world, away from himself.
"Warren, this is wrong. I can't do this, I can't go through with it."Guy took his hand off the sword.
"You can, Gisbourne, and you will. If you don't we will be hanged. It's simple. Just stay behind that tent and when I give the signal come out and stab Lincolnshire." Warren took a small bottle out of his pocket.
"What's that?"
"Sleeping poison." Guy glared at Warren. "Well, we can't have anyone hearing his screams, Guy." To Gisbourne, it looked as if Warren had just noticed his disapproval. "Thomas of Lincolnshire is the only man who knows about our attempts. If he tells the king, we are as good as dead. He has to die." He threw the bottle at Guy.
"Quiet now, hide behind that tent." Warren walked off. Gisbourne stood still as he saw a shadow come around the other side of the tent, he knew automatically it was Lincolnshire. Guy pulled his sword out of his sword belt and poured the liquid Warren had given him over it.
He peered around the corner at the scene. Marlborough had his bow pointed at Lincolnshire and a second man, who had probably just arrived, had a dagger to a young woman's throat. The man, Guy realized, was clearly using the woman against Lincolnshire. Warren put his bow down: the signal.
Gisbourne silently made his way into his position. He could see the woman, who was being held, tense as she saw him. He heard her gasp as he grabbed Lincolnshire and stabbed him in the side. The man almost instantaneously went limp. Guy didn't know what to think. Was he dead or was it the poison?
He heard Marlborough snap at the woman, "Calm yourself, Margaret."
"Really, Guy, am I so terrible of a person that you can't bear to see me?" Warren entered Guy's room unannounced.
"Go away, Marlborough. I do not wish to see anyone at the moment, especially not you." Gisbourne swiftly got up and stood. "It is strange, I do not remember us on friendly terms."
"I do not remember you as a lonely, power hungry, pathetic, leather clad, henchman," Warren sighed.
"Truce?"
"Truce…You know something, Gisbourne?" Guy shook his head. "I've already had a run-in with Hood, didn't go too well."
"Really?" His tone was sarcastic. "Hood's encounters with the government of the shire usually go that way."
"I have to say, the man was good tempered until I mentioned a, uh, certain deceased noblewoman."
Guy shot him a look. "Marian? Why did you have to bring her into it?" He stomped over to look the other in the eye. "What do you know about Lady Marian?"
"Whatever Prince John told me about her." Marlborough shook his head. "Temper, temper, Guy. It got the best-"
Warren couldn't finish his sentence as Gisbourne picked him up by the collar and held him against the wall. He had a good idea of Guy's limits but he knew he had already gone past them. "Never, and I mean never mention her again. Do you understand me?"
"I do, point taken," he stuttered. Marlborough took a deep breath as Guy let him go. They finished their argument just in time for the sheriff to interrupt,
"I see you've met my Gizzy. Have you hit it off well? Hmm?" Vaysey momentarily stood on his tiptoes to feel in the same league as the two considerably taller men. The sheriff sauntered back to the doorway. "I will have to break up your meeting now. Warren must be shown his new home."
"Lovely." Warren followed after Vaysey. "May I ask where it is?"
"Bonchurch is just north of Locksley, Gizzy's village." He frowned comically, "Gisbourne was rather pouty today, wasn't he, Marlborough?"
"He was, my lord." Warren peered into an empty room while trying to keep up with the sheriff. The bed was unmade, it looked as if it had been that way for months, the window was open, and a mannequin with a mask lay discarded on the floor. There was a layer of frost on the windowsill, the last time it had been closed seemed to be when it's resident left. The entire concept seemed strange to him. Why was there a deserted room in the middle of Nottingham Castle?