Chapter 6; Outlaw
The sheriff sat on his wooden throne, a goblet of wine in one hand and the other resting on the arm of the chair. He drummed his fingers on the chair lightly. 'God, that tax collector better be worth the gold he's worth.' Vaisey grumbled to himself. Gold weighed on his mind like a ton of bricks. Every little halfpenny lost to him was like a blow to him, leaving a scar that would take ages to heal. It didn't help with either Hood or the fairy-tale 'Red Terror,' nicking what little gold the sheriff had. It didn't make a difference now because there was nothing left to steal. Vaisey turned to the servant boy, shaking, holding a plate of fruits. "You, boy. Find Scrope. Now." The sheriff snarled, forever growing impatience. The tax collector was his only hope, but he daren't let that information slip to anyone. 'The only person you can trust is yourself, you both should know that by now. The gift of knowledge is what corrupts us humans, because knowledge is the key to power, and power is what we crave.' Vaisey recalled the words his mother told him and his sister when he was younger. How right she was. But it wasn't going to do him any good now. He needed gold, not power, and unfortunately for him, his mother hadn't stuck around long enough to tell him where a fountain of gold was.
"Where's Gisborne when you need him? Running off with Prince John." Vaisey snapped, although the room was empty. "He was cheaper too." He murmured. The sheriff was surprised they hadn't sent him Guy's head on a spike. That's what Prince John was infamous for, or so the sheriff heard. Vaisey had plans for this new tax collector, if he lived up to his expectations. He was going to win him over like he did with Gisborne many years ago, with land, power and wealth. Well maybe not so much wealth but land defiantly, so long as he if he proved himself more useful than Gisborne.
Fortunately, the boy didn't keep Vaisey waiting for long. Scrope, the treasurer, scuttled in with his usual fearful expression on his face. "Y- you called me, sheriff?" He trembled. "Yes. Where is the tax collector, Rufus, hmm?" The sheriff inquired, getting annoyed. He had a bone to pick with this tax collector or perhaps a whole skeleton. "He's... dead, my lord." Scrope stammered, his face turning deathly pale at the thought of how the sheriff would react.
'Dead? Why hadn't no one informed me?'
"How?" A baffled Vaisey wondered. "According to the villagers, Sir Guy of Gisborne killed him in Locksley." Scrope gulped at the look on the sheriff's face. "Gisborne..." The sheriff muttered, standing up and putting his hands on his head. The news made his anger vanish. 'He's meant to be with Prince John. Why is he in Locksley? Why didn't he come straight to me?' The sheriff pondered, then his mind naturally strayed to the worst. 'He doesn't have the gut to try and kill me. Does he?' Vaisey did leave him to the mercy of Prince John and his men. Prince John. 'But that means... he escaped and (most likely) killed Prince John's men.'
"Oh dear God." Vaisey whispered out loud at what he had realised, forgetting Scrope was there. "W- what's wrong, sheriff?" Scrope stammered. The sheriff didn't answer, his face displaying an expression of true fear. But it lasted only a second. Vaisey's mind set to work on ways he could wriggle out of it. He glanced behind him, where his escape route lay, invisible to anyone apart from him. Vaisey knew that Prince John would hold him responsible, unless... he told them that Gisborne took the money off Prince John's men and killed them. But he would have to make it believable, something to back it up. The sheriff smirked statistically. It was simple. 'Make Guy an outlaw, blame him. It's about time I pay a visit to Locksley.'
"Gisssbooorrne!" Guy woke early, his eyes snapped open. 'Did I dream that voice?' Guy thought, confused. He glanced outside his bedroom window, just to be sure. He wished it was a dream. By the manor it looked as if a black field of grass had grown over night, and at the centre of it was the sheriff. Immediately he pulled his crossbow out from under his bed and pointed it out the window. "Damn it." Guy hissed. He couldn't get a clear shot, not one that would kill Vaisey anyway. There was a dozen of guards there. It would be difficult, but with his throwing knives there was a good chance Guy could fight his way to the Sheriif and kill him.
Guy proceeded downstairs where the scent of cooked river trout grew stronger. There wasn't time to eat it. He picked his sword and twelve knives, one for each guard, and a travelling cloak around his shoulders, concealing his weapons. The sheriff might not even want to kill him anyway. It wasn't the first time he had killed someone without Vaisey's approval.
Guy had expected the sheriff to come racing to him when he heard what Guy had done. At first he cursed himself for the sheer foolishness, but now he realised that Vaisey was out in the open, away from the safety of his castle. No villagers would come dashing to the sheriff's aid, Guy was positive of that. He reached for the door handle, and hesitated. This was it. With a deep breath and a heart filled with anticipation, Guy stepped out into the blazing sunlight. The sheriff gazed at him with emotionless eyes, reflecting the venomous heart inside. Vaisey's horse whined nervously. He took out a scroll and unravelled it; "Sir Guy of Gisborne, from this day forth you are stripped of all land, titles and wealth. You cannot enter or be buried on Holy Ground, you are not permitted to marry, you will be hunted down by any man who sees fit. From the day hence forth, you are an outlaw!"
Outlaw? Guy did not see this coming. His body froze in shock. Everything he had and ever wanted, every life he had taken and destroyed, the things he'd worked for and sacrificed, was all for nothing. It was all in vain. Villagers too were paralyzed in astonishment, though their eyes were glued to the cracks in their doors and windows.
"Guards. Arrest him."
The two guards closest to Guy looked at each other, then strode over to the frozen man. Mad as some may see him, one thing was certain- he would never go down without a fight. As soon as the two guards stepped within a foot of Guy, they fell prey to his sword. Taking advantage of their shocked state, Guy charged, letting a war cry escape his lips. The nearest guard lost his sword as he helplessly tried to block Guy's attacks, leading him to his death. Now they changed their tactics. The remaining nine formed a loose circle around the wild beast, blocking his escape. He tossed off his cloak, revealing the belt of knives around his waist. Guy drew a knife and cast at the guard. They started to advance on him, taking cautious steps. None of them was likely to beat him in single combat, but their strength lay in numbers. They knew that, and so did Guy. He stabbed at the one in front of him, trying to fight his way out of the circle he wandered into. The guard blocked sloppily, but was too slow to evade the second attack. The knight was about to turn around to fend off the guards behind him, but all he saw was a fist flying towards his too fast to block. As a result, the punch left Guy's head throbbing. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the sheriff smirk. Vaisey didn't believe he would try and kill him, or succeed for that matter. Rage filled Guy as he caught his second wind. Was the sheriff not scared that his death would be upon him? Did he realise his mistake in coming here in person? Gisborne stabbed the man who hit him, then finished another off with his mortal knife. The sheriff was so close, so close to having his miserable life ended, it drove him with an incomprehensible blood lust. Guy diving at the next man, bringing to his knees with a kick, then beheading him, sending blood spraying over Guy. The remaining guards looked at each other with panic-stricken faces, then fled the battle-field as though the devil was chasing them. Now it was just him and sheriff.
Guy stood there for moment, partly to catch his breath but mostly to enjoy the fact that he cornered Vaisey. Their eyes met, locked in battle. 'Today, I am going to kill you. Today, I'm going to watch the life drain from your eyes.' Guy tried to tell the sheriff with his merely the look on his face. 'Don't be a fool, Gisborne,' the sheriff responded, 'I cared for you like a son, I gave you land, I made you a knight.' The sheriff nudged his horse to sent it down the road it came, but it was in vain. Guy lunged at the horse, cutting its hind leg. The horse reared up in pain, tossing Vaisey off its back. He scrambled up, wondering how he got himself into this mess. Guy was perusing the sheriff, almost upon him. Vaisey reached for his sword, next to his saddle. His hand engulfed the hilt, but it was too late. Guy raised his sword above his head, but instead of bringing it down on the sheriff's skull, Guy chopped his hand clean off, sending another spray of blood. Vaisey's scream was blissful music to Guy's ears.
"GISBORNE!" There was only voice that belonged to. Robin Hood was flying towards Guy, smashing in to him, both of them crashing to the ground. Guy's sword slipped though his fingers, clattering to the ground. Robin, pinned him to the ground, knife to the throat. His gang followed, Tuck checking the sheriff, who was curled up on the ground clutching the bleeding stump of a hand. "Will he live?" Robin asked Tuck. "He's lost a lot of blood, but he'll live." Tuck confirmed. Robin turned his focus to Guy. "You!" He snarled, "what are you thinking?!"
"Robin, we got three villages to get to before sunset, we're running late as it is." The warrior monk reminded. "You-I'll-deal-with-later." Robin growled through gritted teeth. "John," he called, "tie him up to a tree." Robin knew he loved to drop the food off, but he needed someone strong. John looked at Guy, his brown eyes regarding him with sheer disgust. "Him, I do not like." Little John grunted. "None of us do." Robin muttered. As soon as his weight was off Guy, his hand shot to his only means of protection, his sword. John stepped on his wrist, crushing it, before he could be reunited with the blade. Guy tried to get up, drawing one of his fatal knives, but John punched him in the head, where the soldier struck him early. It was enough to send the murderer into the darkness.