III
Rogues
"Have ya heard the rumors?"
"No. What rumors?"
"Been all over Nottingham, people say the master's killed Lady Marian."
"I don' believe it!"
"Swear 'tis true, my own sister heard it from a friend o' hers."
The clattering of two kettle pots into the washing trough startled the two kitchen maids. Rebecca turned about and fixed them with an icy stare. "Ye two be spreading rumors?" She asked darkly.
"No, miss Rebecca."
"Good." Rebecca wiped her wet hands upon her apron, "Because if I heard that you were spreading rumors about the master I'd 'ave you both boiled in yer own juices!"
"No one was speaking such things, miss Rebecca!" One of the girls squeaked.
"Off ya go then." Rebecca ordered.
The two girls quickly made their exit, one, who was bolder than the other insisting upon whispering to her counterpart, "Still says it's true, 'bout what he done."
"That's it." Rebecca grabbed both the girls by their ears and dragged them around. She spoke over their pained shrieking, "Jus' for that you two can spend the night tied up on the posts...an' stop that bloody screaming!"
"Rebecca!" Thornton's shout startled they furious maid, stopping her rampage in its tracks. "What do you think you are doing?" The elderly servant was usually a very kind and soft spoken man, but now he viewed this scene with a critical eye. As the head of the household servants he was the authority that all the servants obeyed. Now that their master was in no fit state to order anyone about, Thornton was practically in charge of overseeing the keep of the manor.
"I'm teaching these two gossips a lesson." Rebecca said, "Heard 'em muttering rumors about the master."
"Let them go." Thornton ordered.
"But--"
"Rebecca, let them go or it'll be you I tie to the posts." He didn't mean it. Thornton never punished anyone.
Furious, Rebecca released her pinched grip on the two girl's ears. They dashed away with tears in their eyes, barely stopping to thank the man who had saved them from their punishment. Left alone with her superior Rebecca could only sulk. "I was only..."
"I know what you were trying to do." Thornton said, his voice still severe but far from unkind.
Rebecca hung her head, "It isn't true what they've been saying? The master wouldn't 'ave..."
"Do you presume to know Sir Guy's business, Rebecca?"
She bit her lip. Her pride would not allow her to answer that question properly. "You are a very loyal servant, Rebecca, you always have been to Sir Guy."
Rebecca winced, she knew that he was slighting her in his own way. Everyone in Locksley knew that she had been less than amiable to the former lord of the manor, Robin of Locksley. Only few now, knew why.
Thornton placed a comforting hand upon her shoulder, "But just because you are loyal does not mean you must fight your master's battles for him. You are not his defender."
Rebecca was about to retort that she saw no reason why she should not be his defender when a loud, hoarse cry followed by a loud crash was heard from upstairs. Rebecca and Thornton both looked at each other in surprise of the sound. She pulled away from the old servant. "That's the master..."
"Rebecca!"
"I have t' go. He needs me." She ran out of the kitchens and towards the stairs. She took a leap at the banister, twirling herself in a sharp turn as she clutched the railing. She dashed swiftly towards Guy's bedchamber. From out of the corner of her eye she could see Thornton looking up at her disapprovingly. She cared not for what he, or any other servant thought of her behavior.
She opened the door, "Master?" She called out.
Guy was sitting on the edge of his bed. Shards of the pitcher which had formerly been holding water were lying scattered over by the other side of the room. Water marked the wall where the pitcher had been dashed to bits. This wasn't the first time he had taken to destroying things. Ever since he awoke from his alcohol induced daze. Rebecca was certain he was feverish, but he never allowed her to get anywhere near him. He was like a wild animal.
His head was in his hands as Rebecca entered, but upon hearing her voice his attention snapped up and he eyed her much like a caged wolf would. Rebecca stayed by the door. Was he going to shout at her again? No. She let out a slight cry of fright as he lunged for her, pulling her out of the crevice she had made for herself against the doorway. He slammed her against the wall. It was as if he didn't see her.
He had his hands about her throat. She coughed and tried to pry his fingers off of her. "Master, stop!" She pleaded, but he didn't hear her. She stared helplessly up at him, but she wondered if she was plunging headlong into hell as she stared at into his wild eyes.
"Guy!" She called again. She had not used his name in so long. "Guy, stop! Stop..." she gave a choking gag as his hold on her increased, "It's me! It's....Becca!"
The fog of red-tinged rage slowly began to clear, for his grip about her neck lessened as the sound of her cries finally reached his ears. He released her and staggered backwards. Rebecca fell to her knees coughing and panting for air. She looked up at him. Guy was staring down at her, a mixture of shock and despair upon his haggard face. She rose to her feet timidly. She kept her hands up, palms open in a submissive gesture. "Guy, it's all right." She whispered as she approached him.
He tried to flinch away from her and yet at the same time he seemed not to mind when she placed a hand upon his arm. She hushed him as she would an untamed stallion. He was burning hot and his face was flushed. He was indeed, feverish. "Let's get you back into bed." She whispered. "You aren't well." She repeated this command as she tried to gently lead the sick man back to his bed.
"Becca." The sound of his voice was like the raspy bite of a sharpening sword. It hardly seemed human anymore.
"Master?"
"She's gone." He said to her, or was he really looking at her? "I can't find her..."
"Can't find who, master?" He must be delusional.
"Marian!" The name was a cry wrung from the deepest crevice of his soul. "She was here...she was..." he tore away from her and began to frantically search the room.
"Master, no one is here."
"No!" He roared, throwing a chair clear across the room. "No! She has to be here! Marian!"
Rebecca ran towards him as he fell to his knees. She could hear him sobbing and the sound was tearing at her heart. "I lost her. I destroyed her...she's gone..."
"Guy..." So it was true. He had killed Lady Marian, or was this all one fevered nightmare?
Not caring if he should chose to dash her against the wall, Rebecca bundled the man into her arms as if he was a child. It was odd to hold this man who was once so proud and so strong. Now he was no more than a sobbing wreck. Guy allowed Rebecca to hold him as he cried. "I have to find her..." he insisted in between his sobs.
Rebecca found herself crying as well. She held him tightly, as if hoping to ward off his fevered, waking nightmares. "You can find her tomorrow." She whispered, hushing him. "Tomorrow, I'll...I'll help you."
This quieted Guy and his sobs decreased in intensity. He lay against Rebecca, although he never placed his own arms about her. Rebecca sat with him, rocking him back and forth and hushing him every now and then as he cried out the remainder of his tears. When he quieted Rebecca got to her feet, helping the pitiful man up as she did so. It did not take any further urging to get him back into his bed. He was completely exhausted. She eased him down against the pillows, tenderly smoothing back the hair from his brow.
Tears were still falling from her own eyes but she was oblivious to them. She remained standing over him until she was certain he was asleep. Hesitantly, she leaned forward and pressed the smallest of kisses to his forehead, her talisman to keep him safe from his own inner demons.
She walked quietly over to the door, where the chair had been thrown just moments before. She gathered the battered piece of furniture to her and dragged it back over to Guy's bedside. She wasn't going to leave him like this. She wiped at her eyes with the back of her sleeves. Those gossiping maids had been right, but how could that be? She felt sick to her soul. There must be an explanation. She couldn't imagine that Guy could be capable of killing anyone he cared for. It made no sense. She pressed her hand to her mouth and sobbed silently as she kept watch over her master. It made no sense at all.
Late Spring, 1173
"Think anyone else knows 'bout this place?" Rebecca cleared the brambles away from the makeshift porch of twigs and leaves. She brushed them clear away onto the riverbank. The rain tickled her nose and dampened her hair. She gave a little squeak of enjoyable annoyance and dashed back under the canopy of leaves and branches.
"Probably." Guy answered with a small smirk as his companion flopped rather ungracefully under the shelter of leaves. "It's the river, people come by here all the time."
"Ya don't have much of an imagination do ya, Guy?" Rebecca teased, poking his arm. "Didn't ask ya about the river. Asked if you thought anyone knew about this place. An' I think we're the only ones who know that this," she gestured outwards to the expanse of the river before them, "is the best spot by the whole river!"
"Says the girl who's only seen this much of it." Guy retorted.
"Oh now you've hurt me." Rebecca said, turning over onto her back with her hand over her eyes in true dramatic fashion. "I really mean it. I'm wounded."
"You'll get over it."
"Can't. 'M dead. S'all your fault." She was making him laugh, there were very few who could make the usually sullen seventeen year old smile let alone laugh. She grinned, peeking at him from between her fingers, "They'll find me here come the mornin' an' they'll start weeping an' wailing an' say--"
"Here lies, Becca, we always knew she couldn't take a decent joke." Guy retorted, taking her wrist and moving her hand away from her eyes as he leaned over her.
"Bet they will say something like that." She laughed, but the sound faded on her lips as she stared up at the boy who was both her master and her closest friend. He was smiling down at her. It was the most wonderful smile in the world.
She sat up, shoving him over and breaking the tension. "I don' think it's gonna stop raining anytime soon." She pointed out, bringing her knees to her chest and hugging them. "Think the Mistress is gonna 'ave me whipped for trapping you out here in the rain?"
"Mother wouldn't have you whipped and you know it." Guy said.
"Little mistress wouldn' like that, I can tell you." Rebecca chuckled.
"There's very little Isabella likes now." Guy muttered.
"She's just acting her age. My mum says I was just as difficult as the little mistress when I was her age." Rebecca said with a smile, she had a fondness for the little girl and always had. "Besides, sure she'll enjoy the celebrations tomorrow, been watching the villagers decorate for days. Looks t' be a sight."
Guy merely nodded. The celebration was to mark those who had not returned from the wars in the Holy Land yet, it was also to remember those who never would. Rebecca sighed. Most servants knew better than to mention the King or his Crusades around the young master of the manor, but Rebecca never had to censor herself. Her father was the manservant of Sir Rodger of Gisborne, the fact that the lord of Gisborne had been presumed dead most assuredly meant that Rebecca's own father was also lying dead beside his master. There was a mutual moment of silence as the two reflected on the loss of their fathers. Rebecca was the one to break the mournful quiet, "Found any pretty young girls t' ask t' accompany you t' the celebrations?"
"What?!" Guy spluttered, taken aback at the sudden question.
"Oh, come on, tell me. Chances are I won't know who the hell you're talkin' about anyway." She teased.
He scowled at her, jerking away from her playful nudges, "Don't be such a fool, Becca."
"Well, don't be cross with me just because I know you're dying to ask me t' go with ya." She joked. The idea was extremely absurd, the son of a nobleman could hardly ever fathom asking to be accompanied by his own servant. Rebecca knew that, but at times she wished she could be so ignorant.
Guy looked over at her. Rebecca was purposefully glancing away, her eyes searched for nothing out over the rain flooded river. "I would if I could." He said under his breath.
"Say something?" She asked, turning back to face him.
"Nothing." He shook his head. He saw slight disappointment in Rebecca's eyes, but there was nothing he could do to change that. For some time now he had toyed with the idea that Rebecca cared for him as more than a friend. He wasn't certain how to feel about that. He had always imagined that the woman he would eventually love would become his wife. Rebecca could never be his wife, and to contemplate caring for her as more than a friend was out of the question. Yet he liked being with her. He was not ashamed to admit that no one knew him better than she did, and he was positive no one knew her better than he did. She wasn't the most beautiful girl, but she had a laugh and a smile that could make him grow hot and cold almost at the same time. A simple friendship was better than nothing, and there was nothing unusual or forbidden about a nobleman or woman befriending their servants.
"Rain's stopped." Rebecca grunted as she crawled out of their shelter. She brushed her hands upon her apron. She blushed as she saw Guy staring at her intently. What was he thinking? "C'mon, Guy," she giggled, "Tell you what, since ya can't take me t' the celebration tomorrow ye can escort me back home instead."
"Do I have to?" He groaned sarcastically as he joined her at her side.
"I could always leave you here t' get eaten by wolves. Although I don't think they'd like the taste o' spoiled brat." Rebecca grinned cheekily.
She began to laugh in her usual rough manner as he performed a mock bow and offered her is arm, "My lady?"
"Ain't you just the charmer." She shoved him lightly, but took his arm. "Pair o' rogues, you an' me."
Guy smiled crookedly at Rebecca's pet title for them both. It was entirely merited. Even though they joked and smiled as they walked, both knew they were due to be in trouble as soon as they returned to the manor. They had both slunk away into the forest together. It was only meant to be a quick get away, but they hadn't counted on the rain. They had no real reason to go sneaking about. Everyone in the village knew they were friends, but there was something forbidden about running off to the woods to a secret spot they liked to think no one knew about. It was exciting.
"Watcha thinking about?" Rebecca asked, noticing that Guy had become strangely silent.
"Nothing important."
She shook his arm, "Secrets, hm? Right then, I'll guess..."
"I was just thinking about how much trouble we're going to be in." Guy said quickly cutting her off. Rebecca would often try to guess his thoughts, she did it to draw him out of possible sullen moods.
"Oh, is that all?" She rolled her eyes, "Today's been worth any punishment my mum an' the mistress think up."
"You don't mean that." Rebecca's mother was one for very creative punishments and she had known Guy since he had been a small boy and she was not above giving him a stern piece of her mind either. He wished his own mother didn't approve of it, but Ghislaine seemed to find he learned his lesson, no matter which mother it came from.
"'Course I do." She smiled at him, "You're worth all the trouble in the world." She laughed a bit until the meaning of her words seemed to hit her. Instead of lapsing into nervous silence she managed a devious grin, "What about me?"
"You are all the trouble in the world." Guy sighed as if he had said something particularly sincere. For that he received a choice string of insults from Rebecca expressing just how much she appreciated that last remark. He placed a hand on the top of her head and ruffled her hair, causing her curses to thread into laughter as she tried to shake him off. As she tried to slap his hand away he managed to grasp her hand in his and loop her arm about his once more. That was the end of their brief fight. They resumed walking arm in arm, but both wore smiles now and remnants of laughter would occasionally be wrenched from them.
Rebecca looked over at Guy; contentment, adoration, and affection in her eyes. She felt foolishly happy to the point of giddiness, as she always did when she was alone with him. She could not help but think--perhaps naively--that they would always be this way.
A/N: Math is not my strong suit. To the best of my ability I've pegged that the year Guy's and Robin's parents died to be about 1173. Making Guy seventeen at the time. If my dates are wrong. Please feel free to correct me! Anyway as 1173 is the year of chaos I've split it up into seasons whenever there is a flashback to it, and there are many. The seasons are based on when I think Archer may have been born, so I counted backwards about seven and a half months, as Archer was born early. Again, if something seems wrong with my dates or seasons, feel free to say something.