Okay, just a teensy note here. As far as Wikipedia tells me (see I kind of do my research) there was a joint sheriff of Norfolk and Suffolk. But I'll just chose a random castle because I couldn't find anything…and the character is entirely fictional. Sorry about how much castle stuff goes on. And the length, I got a bit carried away
Chapter Four- Forging Enemies-Two days later
Guy strolled down the hallway in the castle. The cold air was making him miserable. It had been like this for two days. He was beginning to question if his leaving the Council of Nobles was a smart move. As he went by the courtyard, Gisbourne glanced outside. The hard, grey stones were covered in white and the dusty snow was still filtering down. Nottingham looked slightly peaceful. Maybe. From afar. To someone who was having a first visit. He sighed and walked on. Couldn't he just stay at home in Locksley for the rest of the week? Thinking back to more important matters, the subject of Lord and Lady Clare came to Guy's mind. That man came here only to show off his young bride. Guy smirked at the realization: Lady Amice Clare is the reason why Vaysey wants a wife.
It must have been worse than trying to court Marian. A man of four and thirty going after a woman of Margaret's age. He laughed but then stopped; Henry was only four years older than himself. At least he wasn't the same size as Hood's servant. Clare probably couldn't find a wife because all the women were taller than he was. Guy laughed to himself. He could still remember Marlborough beating the man to a bloody pulp after he stepped too close to Margaret. Lady Amice was a tiny, little thing. She was pretty, feisty, made Henry Clare seem tall in comparison, and needed a stool to stand on to be at Gisbourne's eye level.
"Guy? Is that you?" Gisbourne whirled around on his feet. He recognized the voice immediately. Damn. Guy would most likely have an argument with her. She was draped in a black, floor length cloak and hood. Was this her idea of inconspicuous?
"Lady Margaret, it is a pleasure." Guy held out his hand for Margaret to put her hand in it. She accepted but pulled back quickly.
"A pleasure? I have never really considered our meetings pleasurable."
He looked at her in disgust. She couldn't possibly be mad about that still. Not now. "Please, Margaret, that was years ago. Surely you have let it go."
"I am sorry. It wasn't really your fault." She pulled down the hood that covered her face and looked up at him. He just kept on getting taller, didn't he. "May I ask where my brother is?"
"He is in the Great Hall. I really should be there as well." Gisbourne looked down at the girl. She was like his younger sister. "I managed to escape from the Council of Nobles meeting this morning. Warren is still there though."
Margaret smiled, "You just left him. I would've done the same."
"I didn't leave him." Guy started to lead her in the direction of the Great Hall. He stopped short, and Margaret continued right into him. Bad idea. The sheriff had been babbling about finding a wife lately. "I will find a guard and he will show you to a room."
"Why? Is there something secret in the Council of Nobles?"
Gisbourne snorted. The thought of taking her to the meeting, just for her to realize how wrong she was, was extremely tempting. "No. It's a few nobles from the area discussing taxes and other things essential to running the shire."
"Oh. Have fun with that." She raised the hood over her head. "It is very cold for March, is it not?"
"It is." Guy spotted a castle guard out of the corner of his eye. He was walking past the corridor going to the courtyard. "Oi! You there!" The man spun on his heels,
"Yes, Sir Guy?"
"Take the lady to a room." The guard started to lead Margaret away, in the direction of Marian's chamber. "Fletcher! Other way."
"Yes, my lord." Simon almost sprinted in the other direction at Gisbourne's order. He was still feeling the side effects of being dropped on the head, and this wasn't helping. Robin's spy put a hand on the stone wall to steady himself. "Would my lady like a chamber with a window?"
"Normally, I would. But I fear it may be too cold." Margaret eyed the guard. He was handsome, very handsome. Tall, slender, dark hair, dark blue eyes. She smiled under the heavy cloak. Just like Thomas. It would serve Warren right if she went off with a castle guard.
"Here we are, my lady." He opened the door. "If you need anything, there should be a guard waiting outside for you."
"Thank you, um…"
"Fletcher. Simon Fletcher." The lady received his best smile before retreating into her room. Once he had closed the door behind her, Simon leant heavily against the wall behind him. Damn it, Much.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXO
Amice sat on her bed in Nottingham Castle and let her eyes fall on her husband. He always looked handsome in leather. Even when she was angry at him, she always loved him in leather. "Henry?"
"Yes, love?" He pulled a tight, black leather jacket over his head, ignoring the small buttons down the front.
"This might be a stupid question, but why are we here?" She started to laugh. "I see you haven't figured that jacket out yet."Amice moved to a bench in front of the mirror and brushed her blond hair.
"To deal with the first comment, we are here for business matters. Nothing to concern you, an old friend of mine is in the area. And the second comment," Henry chuckled, "it is your fault for purchasing it. I'll get you for that one." He stood by her side and took the brush from her hand. She smiled at him in the mirror as he took up where she left off.
"What will you do, huh? Maybe you can deprive me of the company of Vaysey and Gisbourne."
"I'm not that angry." Henry smiled and kissed her neck. It felt like they had been married years, even though it had only been a month. "I love you." He continued with kisses up her neck and then meeting her lips passionately.
She broke off the kiss, sighed and stopped him. Really, she thought, he was supposed to be responsible. "I love you too, but we must meet the sheriff. The Council of Nobles should be over by now."
"Can't he wait a few hours?" Henry whined. It wasn't fair. She was finally his. It had taken years to win her over and he still had to play the part of the responsible, well-to-do, sheriff. "It's not like Vaysey will miss us, Amice."
"Yes, but we have an agreed time." Lady Clare rose from the bench, thwarting off Henry, and ambled towards the door. "Come on."
Dejectedly, he followed and Amice walked out into the drab hall. She walked a few steps and then stopped. Henry thought it as the perfect chance for to avenge her remark about his jacket, "Do you even know where you're going?"
"Do you have a better idea?" she retorted. "Why don't we go to the dungeons and you can stay there? Wouldn't that be exciting, dear?"
"Let's just find Vaysey." Henry strode past her and spotted a guard. The man had his eyes closed, and had most of his weight against the wall, but he still counted. Amice spotted him first,
"Sir, are you well?" She rushed to his side.
Typical. Just typical. He would have to show concern now. This would take even longer and it would be more time before he got Amice back to the chamber. "Why don't you go home for the day? I'll tell Vaysey that I let you go."
"I'm alright. I'm perfectly fine." Damn. Simon wrenched his eyes open and forced the throbbing pain to the back of his mind. "Thank you very much for the offer. Though, it is better if I stay here." He noticed the way the couple was looking at him. His choice of words wasn't very guard like, was it? Then again, he was a noble. Actually, he was more than a noble, he should be a sheriff. Too bad his family's title had been taken away when his brother decided to be a traitor. "Can I be of any assistance, my lord?"
"Um…yes, you can direct us in the direction of the sheriff's chamber." Henry exchanged a glance with his wife. Overall, that had been a strange guard.
"Keep going down this hallway, then go left. There are usually four or five guards in front of his chamber."
Following Simon's directions, they made it to Vaysey's room. A guard held the door open for them and the abruptly shut it behind the couple. The sheriff was sitting in his chair, twirling a gold goblet between his fingers. He seemed bored. And when the sheriff was bored, he usually had to make someone suffer. One of the men standing outside the door announced the couple, "Sheriff Henry Clare of Norfolk and Suffolk and Lady Amice Clare."
"Clare?" Warren squinted at the man who was entering. Thank god Margaret wasn't here, it would be like a giant, dysfunctional, family reunion. And he would have had to teach Clare another lesson about how he didn't like scheming men touching his sister. "Is that you?"
"Marlborough? I haven't seen you since…uh. Amice let me introduce you to Sir Warren of Marlborough." Henry took his wife gently by the elbow and her towards Warren. She scowled at Henry, he was definitely hiding something.
"It is a pleasure." Warren kissed her hand.
Not being able to take the stingy amount of attention he was getting, the sheriff complained. "La-di-da-di-da! Reunions are fun aren't they?"
"They are my lord." Marlborough sank back into his standing position on the left side of the sheriff's chair. He had already been warned about the right side being reserved for Gisbourne.
Henry shot Vaysey a childish glare. The man knew full well that his friend was jealous and couldn't help but rub it in. "May I ask your purpose for coming to Nottingham?"
"I have come for tips on how to solve an outla-" Amice kicked her husband in the shin. "I have come to discuss matters concerning our king."
A comically evil grin appeared on the sheriff's face. "What kind of matters?"
"Matters concerning a sudden death." Henry started to smirk. "I gather you are aware of Richard's current situation."
The sheriff frowned. What situation? Richard was on his way home…wasn't he? "No. I am afraid I am not."
"All the better then. The Good King Richard is being held as a prisoner of Leopold of Austria."
"Really?" A wave of happiness was threatening to pour down on Vaysey. "Is he dead?"
"He is not." An infectious grin spread across his bearded face. "That is where we come in."
"Oh, I see. Where is he being held?"
"Duerrstein, a castle in Austria. Does Hood know?" Clare looked Vaysey in the eye. There was only one person who could ruin their plans, the young outlaw.
"I expect that Locksley will be taken blindsided by this news," the sheriff chuckled. "Wonderful! Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful!" Vaysey was now jumping ecstatically. There was no way that they could fail. "When can we have men in Dirtsteen?"
"Duerrstein, Vaysey. First we have to gather support for our little mission. Then, we must willing soldiers for our cause."
"I'm in." Warren sighed loudly. Matter open and shut for him. No convincing needed, he wanted Richard dead. Not the most honorable way of acquiring power, but he didn't care in the slightest. Marlborough stretched and continued leaning against the sheriff's chair. How would he explain all this to Margaret?
Vaysey clapped his hands together. "We must discuss this later. For now, I have to find Gisbourne." He ran out of the room as fast as he stubby legs could take him. "Gizzy! Gizzy!"
"And now we will make our leave. Come, Amice." The Clares left the chamber leaving Warren alone. The couple made their way back to their room, almost becoming lost a number of times.
"Amice, love, remember how much trouble I had putting my jacket on?"
"Yes." She eyed him with a not-so-noble gleam in her eye.
"Would you mind taking it off for me?"
XOXOXOXOXOXO
"Thomas, Thomas, wake up. Please?" Much nudged his friend lightly. "Pretty please?"
"It's no use, Much." The physician took a deep breath. "He's lost a large amount of blood. He won't regain consciousness for a while." John Whitten stood, sulked, and went outside. Even though he was Thomas' physician, he was his friend as well. Much knew it was hard for him to watch his comrade bleed and suffer and know that his fate resting in his hands.
Robin's manservant pouted and folded his arms over his chest. Where was Master during any of this? Thomas was his friend, too. Sighing, he glanced around the tent. The light seared through the pale yellow cloth, flooding the tent with a dull yellow light. Thomas' weapons and possessions were neatly arranged around his tent. Much's shield and sword were thrown next to where he sat. And Master was nowhere in sight. He doubted that Master was even in camp.
Much moved his shoulder so that the rough chainmail wasn't scratching it. Stupid armor. Stupid war. Stupid assassins. Sod the king. All he wanted was to go back home and have life be normal again. On any day in which he was here, he would rather be at home in Locksley. Following his master around Nottingham, exploring the forest, wooing fair maids, generally causing trouble. He had only gone on this bloody Crusade because he loved his master. He loved Robin so much that he would follow him anywhere. Even if Master became an outlaw and had to live in the dirty, dark forest (like that would ever happen) Much would follow him there.
A quiet moan came from the bed beside him. Much turned so that he could see Thomas. Should he go get Whitten? The man grimaced and grunted. Robin's manservant hadn't a clue what to do next. He had never been faced with this situation before. "Uh…you'll be alright, Thomas. It's not that bad." Much bit his lip. By the way the physician had acted, it probably was bad, and Thomas would die.
Obviously pained, and most likely not remembering what happened, Thomas tried to speak. His voice was hoarse and the effort only worsened his already uneven breathing. "Is the king," he gasped, "is the king alright?"
"Majesty is well. Perfectly well and unharmed." Much was worried. There was something he didn't know here. Thomas' dark blue eyes were clouded from the agony he was facing. His breaths were short and whenever he moved they would turn into gasps. He watched Thomas' face contort with pain and went to fetch the physician. Not good. Not good at all. "John!"
"Here!" A blonde head popped up from his right. "What happened? Is he alright?"
"He's conscious, but his breathing is-is off and he's in a lot of pain." Much followed Whitten back inside the tent. Where was Master? Where was his master?
"Lincolnshire, you alright, buddy?" John knelt beside the injured Crusader. Much only watched. If there was going to be blood, he would have to leave. He couldn't take blood, he just couldn't. "Alright, it's alright, calm down." The physician stayed there until Thomas' breathing resembled that of someone not on the brink of death and his grunting, groaning, and spluttering had stopped.
Much resumed his post next to his friend. What could he do to make him feel better? Take his mind off the pain? He bit his lip and knew what he could do. Much would talk. He would talk until Thomas became succumbed to boredom and was lulled into sleep. "So, you really didn't miss much. Master Robin and I were pretty worried about you and we stayed in our tent. Our dinner was sent there. It was good, well good for the Holy Land. I mean it's not like what mother used to make…"
Much opened his eyes and frowned. His poor friend. His poor, poor, suffering friend. God rest his soul. The smell of breakfast filled his nostrils. They were having breakfast, and they were having it without him. Ignorant pigs. He stumbled outside to where they were seated around the fire. "Master! Master how could you?"
Robin chuckled. "It's only breakfast." He shoveled some egg into his mouth and cringed. Burnt egg.
"I have to say, mate, it would have been much better if you had cooked it." Allan sighed and poked one of the eggs on his plate. Not a good start to the day.
"See what happens when I'm not here." Anger, disappointment, pride and happiness flashed in his eyes all at once. "You lot can even make food for yourself." Much scanned the forest. It was snowing and the ground was already covered in it. "Are you insane? Sitting in the cold when you could be inside.
"At least we don't complain about it…" John grumbled and rose from the ground. "Deliveries. Robin, Allan, come with me. Much stay and eat." Without looking back, he marched through the trees. After a few steps, John realized the weather didn't agree with his decision. Brow set tight together, the monstrous man started to tread back to his fellow outlaws.
Snow was falling in pure, white clusters not bothered by man or beast. The forest appeared to have no inhabitants, not even the four outlaws. Deep in Sherwood, where John was clomping through seas of snow, and the rest of the gang was too lazy to move, everything was quiet. Much had gone back to sleep, Allan quickly following to leave a shivering Robin and an irritable, somewhat yeti looking John.
"Robin, inside, now!" The outlaw leader glanced at his ally. Almost immediately, he knew that Little John wasn't in a mood to be reckoned with. Scurrying inside, Robin bit his lip. The first time he had proposed to Marian, it had been a quiet, snowy day like this one.
Robin obeyed John and joined the rest of the gang. "Later, we have to go to Bonchurch. It's new visitor won't be expecting us."
XOXOXOXOXOXO
"It sure took you long enough to find me." Margaret sighed. She was cold, irritable, and if Warren wanted a fight she would kick his hindquarters back to Marlborough. The castle was damp and unpleasant. The company was terrible and boring. There was nothing she liked about this place. Nothing at all.
"What is wrong with you?" Yes, he wanted a fight. "I never even told you I was here. Nottingham is not safe, Margaret! There are outlaws here. Bloodthirsty, conniving outlaws, who hate my guts."
"You probably deserve it! Whose betrothed did you murder now?" Her temper was rising at
quick, steady pace. Warren better watch himself, she thought. There was nothing to hold her back from unleashing her full fury on him.
"Why do you have to bring that into everything? It was a year ago! You knew that I would have to kill him. I told you to seduce him not fall in love with him like a typical serving wench!" He slammed his palm into the wall. Damn that man. Even after his death, Lincolnshire is causing more harm than good.
"You never told me that! All you give me are orders. Orders to follow whether I like it or not! Who gave you the right, anyway? Warren, you aren't even my guardian! I could go right back to Uncle Godwin and Aunt Muriel if I wan-"
Warren cut her off, "You will do what I say, woman! There will be no questions or complaints from you, understand?"
The usually quiet, well-mannered, and good-tempered girl could not be classified as any of those at the moment. If there was anyone she could stand up to, it was Warren. "No I don't! How dare you treat me like this. For your information, Prince John sent me here. If I had my choice, I would be as far away from you as possible! Now, leave me alone Warren!"
"As much as I would like to, I have to take you to Bonchurch for safe keeping. When the time comes, I must marry you off to a nobleman. Until that time, I have to keep you where I can see you."
"Like I'll agree to that. Like Uncle Godwin will agree to that." She was very close to striking her brother. Another remark like that and there would be a red mark across his ugly face. "I'd rather stay with Guy than stay with you."
He gave her a sarcastic smile. "That can be arranged."
"Yeah right." Margaret hiked over to where Warren stood. She stood on the tips of her toes to be at eye level. "I know you. There is no way you would ever allow that." She returned the fake grin. Margaret knew his weakness, and it was her.
"Just come on! We can fight about this later!" He grabbed her roughly by the waist, not roughly enough to hurt her, and pulled her through the door. "You are right, Margaret. I would never allow that, so don't even think about it."
Simon felt sick from where he was standing. It was the same Sir Warren of Marlborough. It was the same Lady Margaret of Marlborough. He had heard the whole thing. At least the girl he got himself killed over was pretty. He watched Warren half-lead-half-drag Margaret in the direction of the stable. Simon thinned his lips in anger. He would make Marlborough pay. Sir Warren wouldn't last too long in Nottingham; he wouldn't be breathing by next week. And the lady Marlborough, well she would stay safe with Simon.
XOXOXOXOXOXO
"I do not like this." Margaret wriggled as her brother carried her to the doorway. "You don't need to carry me like a child. It's only snow, Warren, for goodness sakes."
"We both know that you will wreck your boots, and you will complain forever about it." Marlborough trudged through the snow, a handful of guards in tow. "You're a weakling, anyway."
"I am not! Put me down." She wriggled all the more and took her hands from around his neck. He almost dropped her.
"Are you daft?" Warren scowled down at her. "I could've dropped you."
"But you didn't." She looked out at Bonchurch. Through the snow, she could make out several tiny homes and the manor. It seemed pleasant, peaceful, and most important of all: warm. "Hurry up, will you, I'm cold. I could've made it there and back by now."
He scowled again and was visibly irritated. "Quiet or I'll drop you."
"You wouldn't." She smiled and kneed him in the stomach.
"Do that again and I will." Finally, they were nearing the manor.
Margaret decided to test her luck by kneeing her brother harder. Doubling over, Warren let her fall into the ankle-deep snow. Knowing she would be angry he ran for cover towards Bonchurch. "You oaf!" She formed a snowball and chucked it at his head.
Similar to one of Robin's arrows, the snowball whizzed by his head without doing much damage. Warren grimaced there would surely be more to come. He continued sprinting towards the manor and then turned once he reached it. That was odd. No snowballs had hit him.
The guards were still there, fumbling in their heavy armor. The carriage and the horses were still there. But Margaret was nowhere to be seen. Warren bit down hard on his lip. If those outlaws even think of touching her. "Margaret!" He went towards the forest edge. "Margaret!"
Marlborough threw his head back in anger. She was probably just playing with him, about to jump out of the brush any second. "It isn't funny anymore, Margaret," he called. "You can come out now!" No answer.
Warren turned to the guards. "What are you waiting for? Go look for her!" The four men staggered in the snow into the forest. After searching for nearly an hour, Marlborough called it off and went inside. Robin Hood would pay dearly for touching his sister.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXO
TaserdbyJack: Thank you for the wonderful review! :) I might have you fooled with Thomas, but then again I may not! lol with Simon and the chance for Much to shoot a squirrel out of a tree was irresistible! 3