Yay! Chapter 11 is finally here. I apologize for the long wait, I have been very busy these last few weeks, but it was worth the wait :)

Greenveilbride; I know some people want a happy ending for Guy but I am trying to keep this story as unbiased as possible. But everyone is entitled to an opinion, so thank you for your review.

Chapter 11; The Hunt

The throbbing pain in Guy's head woke him up. Wooden beams and the underneath of a thatched roof was the first sight that greeted him. Guy began to wonder if he was still in the tavern, and that yesterday had been one big nightmare. He touched the lump on his head. That was proof that yesterday's events were real. Guy sighed. Locksley reduced to ashes and a child was dead. It remained Guy of his own child, Seth. He promised to be a better father to it than his father was. Yet the castle was no place to keep a child, especially with Vaisey around. It would've been perfect leverage against him, that's why paying someone to send it to Kirklees was such a great idea. But Guy didn't know that the sheriff paid the same man double the money to ditch it in a forest. The sheriff told him later what had happened. He said that he couldn't have his master-at-arms running off to an Abbey every other day. Of course Guy was furious when the sheriff told him, yet he was powerless to do nothing.

And Locksley. His precious Locksley. Reduced to ashes. He felt pain in his chest. He was in the same state as he had began with. He made a mental note to kill his uncle if he had spare time. Guy sighed. He wished he had done something, anything to stop those two events from happening.

"Hey Will, what's this?" Guy heard a voice say, pulling him out of his thoughts. "I think it's a crossbow, Derry. Must be Gisbornes." Guy flinched. That crossbow was his father's, made in the Holy Land for him.

"Whoa. How many men do you think he killed with this?" Derry asked. "I bet he killed a hundred." Will replied. "I bet he killed a thousand."

"Hey, let's try it out." There was a sound of a bolt being fired, followed by a thud. "Wow, give it here Will, I want a turn."

"WILLIAM! DERRY! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOUR DOING!" Shrieked a high pitched female voice.

"We were-" Derry began. "YOU COULD'VE KILLED ME!"

"Sorry ma."

"Sorry ma." Will and Derry both replied. There was the shuffle of feet next door, followed by a wheezing cough. "Oh look what you've done now. You've woken Grampa up!" She complained. "Not to worry yourself dear, I was already awake." An old voice croaked. "What'd they do this time?" Grandpa asked. "You wouldn't believe it! Playing with crossbows. They'll be chopping each others heads off next."

"Bah! Your being too overprotective again, Marge. A little mischief is good for the heart." Grandpa winked at the boys. "Speaking of crossbows, better check on our guest. Fetch me my stick, boys." Grandpa continued. Guy closed his eyes. He didn't want his host to think that he'd been eavesdropping. "Wakey, wakey, sleeply head!" Shouted a voice in his ear. Guy jumped up immediately. He stared at his host with a mixture of curiosity and anger. He was a skinny man, with tanned skin and a face that portrayed hard work and endless labour by a map of lines and wrinkles. Grey, grizzled hair sprouted from his head like a mane and although he looked like a breath of wind could blow him over, his eyes held a spark of life.

"I'm up." Guy grumbled. "Are you sure? Would you like me to check?" Grandpa teased. "Shut it, Wrinkles and tell me where I am." Guy demanded. "I'm sure there's a 'thank you for saving my life,' somewhere, eh?" He remarked. "Who are you?" Guy growled, continuing to glower at the old man. "David Lloyd Evans, at your service." He announced, with a wobbly bow.

"Right, now where am I and what am I doing here." The outlaw growled. "Why don't we discuss this at breakfast?" Grandpa asked. Breakfast was the last thing on Guy's mind, in fact, he forgot that he was starving until now. He could barely remember the last decent meal he had. Guy tossed him a look of defeat, then reluctantly got up from the bed, his head throbbing even more. "That's better." David said with a smile of satisfaction on his face. "Now chop chop otherwise there'll be none left for you."

Breakfast wasn't the most pleasant business. The five of them- Will, Derry, Grandpa, Marge and Guy were all cramped around a small scratched-covered table eating an even smaller bowl of porridge. However, it wasn't the thick, honey-covered porridge Guy was used to. This porridge was thin and running and tasted more like water than oats. But he continued to force it down his throat, slowly. Nobody spoke at the table. The tension was high in the room and it felt as though everyone was expecting an attack at any moment. Marge, the mother of the two children barely took her expression of loathing off him, while the others kept their eyes on their food. He adopted their tactic, not daring to risk the wrath of Marge. However, Guy was pulled out of his thoughts by someone poking his arm. One of the boys stared at him with murky brown eyes, his mouth hanging open. "Are you a giant?" He gasped. "No." Guy replied, taking his eyes off the boy and back to foul porridge. Tap, tap, tap. "What now?" Guy growled. "Is the sheriff a goblin?" The boy continued to gawk. "No." Guy answered, his mood unchanging. "But grandpa said-"

"Derry," his mother snapped, "eat your food before it goes cold." Guy didn't even know if the porridge had been warmed. He took a spoon full, trying to block out the taste. William and Derry quickly finished their food, then raced outside. Marge took their bowls and put them in an empty bucket. She took the bucket outside, closing the door behind her.

"You still haven't explained why I'm here, Wrinkles." Guy inquired, as soon as everyone was out of an earshot. The old man, finished his bowl and lent back in his chair. "Simple. I failed to take you in last time your home burnt down. I know it wasn't my place to stand up to the bailiff, but your mother always took care of us when we were hungry and your father never laid a finger on us either. We owned them both that much at least. But of I'd known what you'd become, what the sheriff turned you into-"

"Shut up. Just shut up. I don't want to hear another word." Guy hissed. He'd heard enough of the past in the week. "I think I'm the only person alive in Nottingham who was there at the night of the fire." The old man continued to rant on. "I was Gardner at the old manor. I thought my name might have rung a bell?"

"No."

"Come on you must remember me. You and Robin used to nick apples from my apple tree." Guy didn't reply. He remembered it well. The summer days where Robin would shoot apples down with his bow, and Guy would be ready to catch them. It was probably one of the few times that the pair got along in their youth. "Anyway, I offer my apologizes for last time, hopefully my debt will be repayed." The pair sat in silence. Guy had a lot to consider. Forgive the man who was too cowardly stand up against injustice? Forgive the man who left him as a boy with nothing but the clothes on his back? And yet the same fact burned in his mind. 'They saved Hood, yet they didn't give me or Isabella a second glance.' Of course he wasn't the perfect child one could ask for, often reckless and impatient and mischievous. But still, he was young, and just lost everything he had.

Guy looked up at the old man. His wrinkled eyes were infested with sadness and regret. He was going to die soon, the look on his face told everyone that. It would be a kindness to let him pass away with a good peace of mind.

"What you did to me and my sister... it was unforgivable. You repay your debt now but it is long overdue. I was a child and had lost both my parents. Now I've just lost a building that was never mine to begin with and got a roof over my head for a night." David could not meet his eye. "I see. I am ashamed of myself to this day of what I've failed to do. I will beg forgiveness from God and pray he have mercy on my soul."

'Save your breath.' Guy mumbled inside his head. He stood up and headed out the back. The tension in the room was choking him. At times like this he would want nothing more than to ride through the glen to clear his mind. Yet those days were long gone, replaced by getting chased through the woods like a Fox, or hiding in bushes like a rabbit. So Guy stood there, arms folded leaning against the wooden wall of the house. It was such a beautiful day to waste, it was frustrating to sit and do nothing. The door swung open to the side of him. Marge appeared, carrying a basket full of damp clothes that needed drying. Guy was so lost in thought, he barely noticed her. Whack! Guy's hands shot to where his weapons should have been. Marge stood in front of him, glaring at him with ferocious green eyes. "You soulless little devil!" She hissed, like a wild rattlesnake. "Get off me, you stupid women." Guy snarled, but failed to quench the fire in her eyes. "Now you listen to me, Guy of Gisborne and listen well. It was Grandpa who made us take you in. If it was left to me, I would have let you rot."

"I didn't expect any less from the likes of you." Guy snapped back, but his comment was ignored. "Now, that old man by there will be dead in a puff of smoke. Every time he saw you, he saw his mistake. Now, you are going to apologize to him, and forgive him-" Guy opened his more to protest -"I don't care if you don't mean it! Otherwise, I'm sure your loving uncle will enjoy your company more. Clear?"

She waited for Guy's response as he weighed up the pros and cons, but he didn't have much choice. "Fine." He grunted reluctantly. "Just remember, I'll be listening to every word your saying." Marge threatened, shoving him back into the dark house. Guy sighed to himself. He wasn't used to being threatened or pushed around, especially by a women. Being an outlaw was making him wild and almost uncontrollable. 'Had Hood and his men ever felt like this?' Guy wondered. Thinking about it now, Hood's men never really had much to lose. It wasn't as if they had been living in a castle for the most part of their life. Guy forced one foot in front of the other. Grandpa stood at one of the few Windows in the household, sunlight beaming down on his pale face. He didn't notice Guy come in. He cleared his throat. Grandpa didn't so much turn his head. Guy assumed he was half-deaf. "David." Guy called. The old man turned to his head and stepped out from the light. "Yes Guy." The former knight opened his mouth, but no words came out. He couldn't remember the last time he made an actual, genuine apology. He began to panic. 'God damn it, what should I say?' Guy yelled at his brain. He was conscience of time passing, and the man in front of waiting for an explanation. "I... um, after thinking about it, I er... accept your apology." Guy muttered the last words in one breath. He looked at the old man, who embraced him. Guy immediately tensed, his whole body going ridged yet he couldn't shake him off for fear of breaking a frail bone. "Thank you. Thank you so much. I knew you had your mother's blood in you." Guy was unsure how to respond to that comment. The back door swung open. Marge walked in with the cheesiest grin on her face. "Well I hope I'm not spoiling anything." She smirked. "Not at all m'dear." Grandpa said. "I best be getting tea ready. How many carrots do we have left?" She asked. "Two and a half." Grandpa replied. "Two and a half! We can't make a stew out of that." Marge exclaimed. 'Carrot stew? They can't be serious?' Guy thought. He couldn't survive another meal of watered down food. "If you like," Guy offered, "I could go and catch a few rabbits."

"But isn't that against the law?" Marge protested. "And so is harbouring an outlaw. I'll do so at my own risk. Now where's my crossbow?" Guy asked. The pair of them looked away. Marge walked to the front door and poked her head out. "Will! Derry!" She called. The two boys came running up to her. "Yes ma." They both said. "Where's Guy's crossbow?"

"Ummm... I think dad had it." Derry confessed. "Nope, it's on top of the self." Will corrected. And so it was. On the topmost shelf, his crossbow waited patiently for orders. Gently, he took it down and check how many bolts were there. Feeling mischievous, Guy said, "I'm sure there was six bolts in here."

"It was all Derry's fault, I swear to you. He took the crossbow and fired it." William confessed. "You lying... lying, jabawot! Yep, your a lying, two-face jabawot." Everyone raises eyebrows at the young boy. "It means that you tell fibs and you smell bad and you're a annoying as a flea." Derry explained. "DERRY! Don't call your brother names." Marge commanded. "Well, I think he talks a load of gobbledygook. You're just a big pile of incomtoad." Will shouted back. "WILLIAM! DERRY! IF YOU DON'T APOLOGIZE, I'LL GIVE YOU TO THE SHERIFF!" She screeched. The boys faces went pale. "Sorry Will."

"Sorry Der."

Guy allowed himself the rarest of smilies. They barely had nothing, yet he envied them. They endured the sheriff's and his uncle's tyranny yet they were happy. They work endlessly in a cycle of poverty, yet they found ways to smile. "I'll be going hunting then." Guy said, heading out the back door. "Be careful." Grandpa shouted behind him.

It was a perfect day; the sun was bursting through the green canopy, the birds sang in the trees and the wind seemed to welcome him down the familiar path. Yet for his own safety, he strayed from the path and headed into the heart of the forest. He repeatedly scanned his surroundings, looking for animal tracks and trying to memorize his way. It wasn't too long that fresh mud told him a herd of deer had past this way. Guy knelt down to study them in more detail. They were fresh, and deep. 'They must have been running.' Guy thought. There was no blood on the ground, or antlers. 'So they must have escaped, or weren't attacked altogether.'

A twig snapped.

Guy spun around. His finger twitched on the trigger of his crossbow. Two figures appeared from the trees.

"William? Derry? What are you doing here?"

They were covered in mud, their hair knotted with twigs and leaves with thin scratches on their bare forearms, evidence that brambles and stinging-nettles had clawed at them. "What are you doing here?" Guy repeated. "We- we wanted to go hunting... a-and we followed you, and then we got lost." William sobbed. Guy rolled his eyes. It was an amusing sight. Two filthy boys with their little toy bows and arrows slung over their shoulders. The two boys slumped down on the floor and cried even more, loud enough to draw attention. "Ugh, you can follow me, but just be quiet." Guy snapped. "Great! Can I hold your crossbow?" Derry asked, jumping up enthusiastically, his tears disappearing. "No-you-bloody-well-can't. I'll be reporting this to your mother." Guy threatened. Guy continued down the path, the two boys trotting after him. It wasn't long till the trees thinned and they reached a clearing. The herd of deer he had been stalking were waiting there, some lying on the ground, some grazing. He evaluated the herd. The leader of the herd lifted his head and stared straight at him with dark eyes. He was the leader for a reason. He was the biggest of them all, with the largest antlers, standing on the edge of the herd. His rival wasn't too far away, very similar in size too. Guy was trying to pick out the weakest of them. A simple deer didn't scare Guy, but could do damage to the boys. Then he spotted it. A young doe, with a sandy coloured hide eating some grass. Yet it stood, limping. It had broken his leg. 'An easy target.' Guy thought. He whipped out his crossbow, took aim, and... the herd of deer were fleeing the clearing.

"What?" He gasped, unable to define what was happening. Black soldiers on horses appeared, heading towards them. "Run!" Guy screamed at Will and Derry, thrusting his crossbow into their hands. "Run, you fools." Guy roared again. The pair forced their aching legs to disappear into the forest. The soldiers caught up with him in a matter of seconds. They dismounted, Guy focused his gaze towards the darkening sky as he felt a thousand metal tips smooth his neck.

"Well Gizzy, isn't this a pleasant surprise?"