Chapter 4; A change of tactics
Guy woke up, covered in cold sweat as usual. The morning light entered his room without permission and the sky was flecked with red and pink clouds dyed by the Sun. 'Today is the day.' He thought. He made up his mind- Guy would sneak into the sheriff's chambers, kill one of his pets then sneak back out or die in the attempt of trying. If he got caught... well, he had a small bottle of poison. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that. Wether or not it failed, he had to try. Fortunately, Guy had planned it all out better this time. Last time, he was reckless and consumed with madness, and it was night. The guards were more active in the night. This time however, Guy would go at midday and he wasn't going as the so-called, 'Night Watching.' Thornton found a set of guards armour, plain dark mail and a helmet that just left his eyes visible. It was a bit tight on his chest but no one would question him with it on.
Gisborne left his room and headed downstairs for some porridge Thornton had prepared him. The plain, watery oats satisfied most of his morning hunger. If he were to reach the castle by midday, he would have to move now. So, wasting less time as possible, he bundled up his chain mail armour and headed to the stables where he mounted his horse. He nudged it with his foot to send it trotting out into the open air.
Guy pressed his ear to the damp wood of the secret door, listening for any outside movement. If he had timed this right, then the sheriff should be near outside. Guy was just about to step into the throne room when he heard that all-too familiar voice. "Lovely day isn't it, Abbott? A lovely day for an execution." It felt as though his ears were swallowing poison. "Sheriff, this is wrong. You can't kill Tuck." The Abbott protested but his efforts were in vain. "Hmm, can't I, Abbott? If you hadn't noticed now Abbott. I am the sheriff of Nottingham." He mused. 'Kill him, kill him now.' His demon whispered. Guy hesitated. He opened the door slightly. The sheriff stood some distance from him, with his back turned. He drew his throwing knife. Just as he was about to realise it, the Abbott stepped in front of him. "He is a holy man, you-"
"La-di-dah-di-dah, I think it's about time now, actually."
"But-"
"Think of it this way; we either watch the monk get torn apart, or watch your little book roast in the flames." The Abbott held his tounge. "Good, now let's get with it, shall we?"
They both walked off. Guy swore at himself. He might never get an opportunity like that again. He waited for the footsteps to fade away, then poked his weary blue eyes to evaluate the room. It was empty. He stepped out of the darkness of the passage and into the well-lit room. Guy fitted in perfectly. He walked down the corridor, almost running to catch up with the sheriff, blade in hand. He could hear his foul voice bound off the walls like a contagious disease. Revenge consumed his body once again as he ran after the sheriff who turned a corner.
"Oi! You! What yer think you're doing?!" Guy spun around to see the bulky figure of another guard. Guy recognised him as the most recent captain of the guard, but he struggled to recall his name. "Are yer deaf or what?" He roared. Guy tried to keep calm, but his heart betrayed him. The captain folded his arms across him chest, making himself look bigger. Guy searched his brain for a plausible excuse, but then he thought of something better. Guy walked closer to him and stabbed him. The captain twisted his body just in time but Guy's knife caught him above the hip. "Why yer little bastard." He yelled as he threw a punch. Guy stepped back, missing the blow. The pair drew their swords and exchanged blows. The captain was the first to draw blood, as he waved his sword lazily but then he caught Guy with a shallow wound on his forearm. 'Let's finish this.' Guy had better things to do. He kicked the captain's knee, breaking it, sending him howling in pain. Taking advantage, Guy thrusted his sword into the captain's throat. His brown eyes widened in pain and his mouth fell open but he was unable to cry out. His body collapsed to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Guy tucked his sword into his belt, then looked for a place to hide the body. The was a door a couple of yards away but when Guy tried it, he found it locked. "Great." He muttered to himself sarcastically. His eyes flickered to the man he murdered. To his fortune, a set of keys hung off his belt. Guy snatched them without hesitation and tried each of the keys till the door clicked open. A trumpet sounded in the distance. He didn't have much time. He quickly dumped the heavy body and dashed to the sheriff's chambers. Servants and guards both gave him suspicious looks as he pushed past them. But Guy didn't care as he climbed the spiral staircase. Panting, he slowed his pace as he got to the top.
Two guards stood like stone sentinels outside the door. This place was more guarded than the rest of the castle, as he learnt from last night. He needed a way to get rid of them without killing. An idea popped into his mind. "HOOD!" Guy cried, as he lent against the wall. The two guards rushed up to him. "Where?" They demanded. "Downstairs... the sheriff..." Guy lied. The two guards charged downstairs. Guy smirked at the gullibility of the guards as he walked to the sheriff's chambers. It was messier than last time Guy recalled; many papers scattered the desk, his bed was unmade yet and feathers covered the floor. His prize buzzard sat there, gawking at the intruder. It opened its hooked beak and let out an ear-splitting screech, flapping its wings widely. "Shut up!" Guy hissed. He took his knife and sent it straight into the bird's heart. In a final act of revenge, the bird clamped down on Guy's knuckle, then fell dead. "Stupid bird." Guy growled at himself, blood leaking from his throbbing knuckle. It was definitely the sheriff's pet. Another trumpet sounded. Guy poked his head out the window and looked down on the sheriff, who was now making one of his little speeches. Guy turned to leave, but then something caught his eye- a large sack of gold called to him on the nest of papers. He snatched it without hesitation, with his unscathed hand. Next to it was a letter. Guy picked it up to read it, except, it was sealed. It was Prince John's seal. Immediately Guy tucked the letter away and finally fled the room.
"HOOD!" There was no mistake that it was the sheriff's voice and Robin had turned up for real. Numerous of guards sprinted to the courtyard. 'Time to go.' As Guy sneaked away from the crowd, he saw a door open. Allan 'A Dale scanned the surroundings then slithered out. Allan froze at the sight of the lone guardsman. His greedy eyes met Guy's, and then the large sack of gold hanging by his waist. Anger surged through him. 'Traitorous little worm.' Guy thought, glaring at him. He should have expected no better.
"Alright mate, give us the gold and we can both walk away from this alive." Allan failed in his attempt to intimidate Guy. The ring of his sword being drawn answered for him. "Fine with me." Allan muttered, drawing his own short sword. Guy stabbed at him, determined to finish him, but Allan was as agile as a flea and evaded the attack. In response, Allan swung his own sword. Guy leant back, out-of-the-way but the steel tip managed to catch Guy's face, leaving a shallow mark on his skin. Their movements became faster as Allan earned himself a cut on his leg. Guy lunged at Allan again, missing him by a hairs breadth. Allan pushed him off as best he could, moving out of the corner Guy had driven him in.
"ALLAN, WE'RE GONNA BE LATE." Yelled the gruff voice of Little John. "Catch you later." Allan said, racing off down the corridors. Guy growled at Allah's back, then left Nottingham too.
Vaisey of Nottingham stormed through the castle like a tsunami, covered in black tar. People avoided the sheriff in general, but they stayed out of a one mile radius zone when he was in this mood. "Curse this tar!" He shouted out to himself, stomping around like a spoilt child. Everything seemed to pile up on him at once. He had letters to read, the Abbott to sort, Hood, Prince John and his godforsaken money. Was it really worth this much trouble just to maintain his seat of power? Of course it was, he just needed and execution to cheer him up.
'The death will have to wait, Prince John comes first.' The sheriff thought as he marched up to his chambers. The first thing he realised was that there were no guards outside his door, and that the door itself was open. Vaisey frozen in his tracks, anger consumed by fear. Preparing for the worse, he drew his dagger silently. Inside, the room was a mess, as it had been for the part few weeks. Nothing much had changed, except his gold was nowhere to be seen. "Arrggg!" Vaisey roared in rage, throwing a book across the room. He was Too angry to ponder on who stole the little gold he had left. The sheriff paced about the room, then he felt something under his foot crunch. His prized buzzard was on the floor.
"Oh no..." Vaisey muttered, gazing at the dead bird. The sheriff happened to like a that bird. In fact, he perfected their company. They didn't ask for money, they did what you told them to do, they didn't complain. 'All the requirements Gisborne failed to meet.'
He could feel another execution coming along. Or several.
Before he killed anyone yet, Vaisey had things to sort. Letters. Sitting on the pile of papers was an unopened letter, he could have sworn there was two. He sliced open the top with his knife and pulled out the parchment;
'To Vaisey, Sheriff of-'
Blah, blah, blah.
'-New tax collector-'
Blah, blah, blah.
'-Ruthless Rufus-'
Blah, blah, blah.
'From the sheriff of Lincolnshire.'
Vaisey crumpled up the paper and tossed it over his shoulder and opened the next letter. 'This tax collector better be good,' he thought, 'because if not...' The sheriff's mind drifted off into all the different ways he would torture him.