Chapter 5; Old times sake
A week had passed in Locksley manor. So far, Guy had killed six men- a noble, four guards and a peasant who saw him. Rumours were running around like headless chickens. The main topic at every table was either about the heroics of Hood or the mysterious murderer. The 'Red Terror,' the peasants called him, probably because of the trail of blood he left behind, not because he wore red. But Guy made sure he wasn't their hero like the mythical Night Watchman. The name their wild imaginations conjured up was something to be feared. With or without a disguise, he was still feared anyway. However, the time of the Red Terror was soon coming to an end. Vaisey's death was nearer. Guy thought he had terrorized Nottingham enough and wanted to finish what he had started. The sheriff must die.
The knight layed on his bed and stared out the window. It had to be almost midday. Then the rumbling of hooves sounded again. Guy doubted it would be Vaisey. The sheriff rarely showed his face after he'd been humiliated by Hood and the Abbott. As the horses pulled to a stop, a voice was carried up to his window. But it wasn't the sheriff's. This time it was someone else. It was a tax collection. The voice was followed by the sound of pots smashing. "What does a man have to do to get some peace?" He mumbled to himself, then rolled over. A minute later there was an even louder smashing noise and a bang. Guy sat up, his volcanic temper was already reaching his limit. His gaze drifted to the opened letter on his table, the one he stole from the sheriff. He picked it up and read it again;
'Vaisey. I asked simply for gold in exchange for power. You have failed to deliver, again, and my men have gone missing. I am your Prince, do you not love me? I want Hood dead and my gold by the end of this month. Otherwise... you won't be sheriff much longer, to say the least.'
Prince John.
Guy couldn't have been happier when he first read the letter but it didn't stop his anger. A scream sounded nearby. Guy rolled his eyes. 'Can't they keep quiet for one minute.' He growled. Guy stormed downstairs, the stopped. A man sat there on his chair with his feet up on his table in his house. The strangers smirk vanished at the look of anger on Guy's face. The tension was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. Then his rage exploded. Guy advanced on him, drawing his sword. He was so determined to make him suffer, that he didn't notice Kate escaping. The intruder was on his feet, snatching his hook from the table, and retreating from the ghost of a man. "You..." Was all Guy managed to growl, eyes smoldered in hate like a raging furnace. The intruder fumbled for the door handle, then finally managed to open it, escaping into the daylight. Guy followed him, not caring that the eyes of the world were upon him. 'No mere peasant steps foot in my house and comes back alive.'
A battle-cry escaped Guy's lips as he swung his sword. The man ducked the sword, but failed to evade Guy's foot as it connected with his nose, giving a satisfying crunch. The man lay on the floor, his head spinning like a maelström. The terrified villagers watched the two men. "Get up!" He hissed. He wouldn't be happy until he had made an example of the intruder- and killed him.
Following Gisborne's orders, the man staggered up as though he was drunk. Taking his meat hook, he swung at Guy's stomach, but the knight was too fast. Guy punched him in the head, sending him down once again. 'Finish him.' His demons whispered. Standing over the wreak of a man, Guy plunged his sword in the man's heart, the blade getting tangled in the rib cage.
He looked around him. To describe the villagers as petrified was an understatement. Then Guy noticed, four guards stared at him with similar expressions, next to a small chest of silver. He glanced to the man he killed, then guards and the gold.
Guy had killed the new tax collector.
Not only that, he made himself known. Guy was supposed to be dead, or at least with Prince John getting tortured or killed in London. The sheriff would wanted to have seen him straight away. Or would he kill him? Had Guy outlived his usefulness and be killed, or worse still, subjected to tortured?
Everyone held their breath, waiting for the dead man's next move. Guy knew what he would do. Like he had done many times before, he drew a throwing knife and hurled it at the guard. Before the blade even left his hand, he knew the throw was perfect. The second guard barely had time to react, and before he realised it, he was dead too. The third guard was now aware of the threat that had arisen, and wisely, tried to turn his horse around to flee. But Guy's knife found a way to dig a grave in his back. He drew his last knife but the target was already on his horse and running out of the range of his deadly knives.
'Codswallop.' Guy's steel eyes watched the figure on horseback race to Nottingham. It was the last thing he wanted. Guy walked over to the tax collectors body and wrenched his bloody sword free. He was so annoyed at himself, he didn't hear the villagers jaws hit the ground, Robin's included.
Robin of Locksley walked back to camp with the rest of the gang in silence. Even Much was quite, and left Kate wordlessly to find her own way back. Gisborne's actions left the whole of Nottinghamshire in shock. But what had scared Robin the most, was the fire in Guy's eyes. Pure malice and madness rolled into one. It was something he or anyone else had seen before. He knew that Guy was up to something, or something happened between him and the sheriff. It just wasn't him to sit in his house all day, then publicly kill the new tax collector and the sheriff's men. Why wasn't he collecting the taxes? What had he done to lose the sheriff's favour? How long had he been in Locksley? Vaisey rarely gave days off, but a week or two was enough to suggest that someone had kidnapped the real sheriff and someone was playing an imposter. And of course, there was the new threat of the 'Red Terror.' It seemed as though everything fell on his head at once.
"Right, what's for lunch then?" Asked Much. No one answered. "Oh cheer up you lot. It's only Gisborne."
"Exactly." Little John snapped. "I'm not being funny, but there's something going on here." Allan agreed. Robin sat down, his mind buried deep in thought. "I agree, something's going on and I can't place my finger on it." Robin said. Tuck didn't respond, his dark eyes gazed off into nothingness. "We still have the problem of the Red Terror, or whatever they call him, to deal with. The people are terrified." Robin continued. "But what about Gisborne?" John yelled. "Well what about him?" Robin asked. "We can't just leave him." Robin raised an eyebrow at John, who rolled him eyes. "He's not in Nottingham, he's not terrorizing the villagers as usual and he's killed the new tax collector. He, is up to something and whatever it is, I do not like."
"John is right. We need to find out what he's up to. It might do us some good." Tuck said at last. "Then how do you propose we get him to talk? Ask him politely?" Robin mocked, losing his patience. "We have a murderer to deal with," Robin continued, "it's only a matter of time till he strikes again."
"I'm not one to disagree with you, Robin, but we have nothing to go on. We don't know who, or what he is or even a plan." Much stated sheepishly. "I was going to think of one." Robin muttered, in better control of his temper. "I recommend that one of us should watch Locksley manor, while you can find the murdered." Tuck suggested. "You think that the Red Terror and Giz are mixed up in this?" Allan inquired. "If the Red Terror is targeting nobles then he would probably go after Gisborne. That way we can capture or kill him." Tuck explained. After a moment's thought, Robin nodded. "It's a good plan. Allan, you can take the first nights watch." Allan groaned inside at the thought of spending a night in the freezing cold, but he didn't show it. "Alright then. But I'll take some of that sheepskin coat."
The cold night air sunk its teeth into Allan's already frozen arm. The moon shone bleakly through the clouds, not offering any light to him. His orders were to watch the manor all night, but Allan, as usual, had thought of a better way to find out what Gisborne was up to.
He plucked a rock from the ground, then lobbed it at Guy's bedroom window. Allan could have picked the lock, or climbed through a window or broken the hinges off the door. But it was far more fun to throw rocks. Allan took another stone and threw it successfully. He heard the stone land on the wooden floorboards. He threw another one. A moment later the same rock was thrown back at him. Allan had successfully woken the Dragon from its lair. The faint outlines of Guy's annoyed face appeared through the bars. Allan twitched his head sideways, beckoning Guy to come. The face disappeared. Allan waited, shivering. Even the thick sheepskin Robin had given him wasn't enough to keep him warm. On the brighter side, the cold prevented him from falling asleep. On the hard-beaten path, Guy's rapid and unmistakable figure was approaching. "If you've come to sell me information-" Guy snarled, but was cut off. "I wouldn't dream of it." Allan replied dryly. "Out with it then." He growled, clearly enraged by being woken at such an hour. "Well... what's up?"
"What's up!? You've dragged me from my warm bed into the cold just to tell me what's up?" Guy demanded, his hand resting comfortably on his sword. "Yeah, you know. Old times sake." Allan said, unaffected by the waves of anger radiating off Guy. "If it weren't for you I would have succeeded in the Holy Land." And by that, Guy also meant Marian. "Don't blame me, you're the one who killed her." Allan corrected. Faster than Allan realised, Guy advanced on him, and pinned Allan to a tree with his fist. There was no time for banter, Allan got to the point. "Robin sent me to spy on you. He says your up to something." Allan croaked, struggling for breath. "Did he now? Tell him I said hello for me." Guy spat, his voice full of sarcasm. Allan's only response was a choking noise that escaped his crushed throat. Guy realised he was throttling him too hard. He slacked his grip ever so slightly, allowing him to breath a little, but not break free. "We need to know... what has happened to you and the sheriff? Why did you kill the new tax collector? What's new?"
"And why would I tell you about the latest gossip? Hood's getting jealous because I get a day off every once in a while?"
"The so-called 'Red Terror.' We need to put a stop to him-"
"You can put a stop to him. I couldn't care less."
"Alright well, whatever. Anyway so the point is, who is the Red Terror? Is it one of the sheriff's plans?" Guy flinched inwardly. Hood on his tail was the last thing he wanted. "From what I know, it's nothing to do with the sheriff." Guy confessed, choosing his words carefully. "Well, that's all I really came here for, soooo if you'll kindly let me go..." Allan hinted. "One more thing," Guy said, "old times sake." And with that, Guy brought his elbow around, smacking Allan's face, sending him to the ground. "I'm not being funny but..." Allan grumbled. The moonlight shined down on Guy's face. Beneath the mess of dark hair, a pearly white scar ran across part of his face. He raised his sword, ready to finish the double-crosser. Allan shot up and before Guy could finish him, he dashed off into the night.
Finally we can move away from all the phantasm crap and get onto the good stuff. Please tell me what you think ;)