XV
Spies
They made an odd couple sitting alone in the cloisters; master and servant. The tree which shaded them from the midday sun was highlighted to a golden green from the summer warmth. A few guards who passed by on their patrol gave short looks to the pair, but did not tarry long in their looks to think much of it. The servants may have whispered here and there; some being right in their gossip, others talking for the sake of speaking.
The pair themselves were hardly speaking and when they did it was in too soft and low of tones to be heard clearly. They seemed comfortable enough in their silences. If one walked too quickly by, one might have made the mistake of assuming them to be lovers stealing away a few moments alone, but the distance which separated them upon the wooden bench was one which signified anything but love. The man sat up straight, with an icy pride which turned his gaze to one of scorn upon anyone who dared to look at him directly. Often his glacier eyes swerved to look over to the tree, as if recalling something very distant. At this he seemed to shrink in posture, as if to hide, or as if to shatter. Sometimes he glanced over at his companion; calculation and aloofness in his eyes. He examined her as one might a specimen in a looking glass, or a figure flashing past a window.
The woman; however, was radiating with adoration. She kept her eyes upon the ground when he would gaze at her, but her hands were clasped so tightly in her lap it appeared as if she would tear the linen dress with the pressure. When the man's gaze flickered away from hers she would occasionally raise her head and look at him with all the appearance of wishing to drown in his image. It was no small wonder why a few supposed them to be lovers. She was glowing with it. It was spilling out of her in every direction. Perhaps she thought she was containing it with her shy gestures and mousy posture, but with every recoil it was only more certain. The man, a few whispered, must be blind.
When she looked at him and when she spoke she inched just a little closer. Her hands bound tight to her as if she had tied a rope about her body to restrain herself from reaching out to him. Her gaze did not whisper wildly at him with words of 'love me, love me, love me!' No, but with every gesture it was as if she was allowing her affection to wrap about this man and seal the cracks in his soul she saw so keenly. She was quiet and her lips were almost pale white as if she was at war with herself to give over her secret. It was a foolish cruelty for them to be as dogs hoping for scraps of comfort when both were staring into a veritable well of the source. This was how the master and his servant sat, and this was how Isabella found them.
At first she was surprised to see her brother and her maidservant alongside each other. She tugged at the laces of her riding cloak, it was growing to be far too hot a day to tolerate it's heavy fibres a moment longer. She kept herself concealed, not wishing to disturb the two just yet. Perhaps they would say something of interest; if the two would ever speak. She soon had her reward.
"She came to me once...just here." Guy whispered so softly Rebecca first thought that the wind had been playing tricks with her. "She tried to calm me after the Sheriff scorned my plans."
"Master..." Rebecca sighed, knowing at once he was speaking of Marian.
He let out a rattling, derisive laugh, "It was two years ago...not so long ago. She touched my shoulder as she spoke to me. I can still..." He lowered his head, placing it in his hands, his fingers knotting their way through his unkempt hair.
"Stop..." Rebecca said in a short breath. He knew he spoke to her because he trusted her, but for one moment she wished he could have not and that he could have gone on being silent. "Oh, stop, ya don't have t' remember, master."
"Yes I do." His voice was raw with emotion, "That is my punishment. I can not forget her. I would not want to."
Rebecca reached out her hand wanting to take his in her own, but at a glance she stayed the motion. She placed her hand instead upon the cold bench, clutching the edge so tightly her knuckles turned white. "I shouldn't have brought ya here. Forgive me, I--"
Guy shook his head, turning to look at her with something other than indifference. "I'm glad you did." he told her.
"Do ya want me t' go, master?" Rebecca whispered to him, thinking to leave him to his thoughts. Expecting the answer she half rose from her seat.
A hand stayed her movements. Guy placed his hand atop her own. "No." He said firmly, but his gaze had gone back over to the tree. He was gazing at it with a distant intensity, conjuring up the image of Marian and hoping by sheer longing he could bring her back to him. He did not even look at the very tangible, and now trembling woman at his side. "Stay with me awhile longer." He whispered, half to himself, but whether he was talking to the ghost or to her, Rebecca could not be sure.
"Yes, master." Rebecca whispered, interlocking her fingers with his own, wishing that she could do so much more for him. A tear fell unnoticed down her cheek.
Somewhere beneath the two stone pillars to the couple's right, Isabella smiled coldly, enough to send shivers down the devil's spine.
Early Summer, 1173
It would prove impossible to forget the happenings of that horrid morning. Dawn had hardly broken before light limped across the sky. The entire village had turned out to watch the proceedings. They looked as gleeful as mourners at the funereal. Gemma Tanner was crying again and her daughter swore that she had never cried so many times before as she had these past few weeks. Rebecca followed her mother out of the manor like a lame dog with its tail between its legs. They crowded in with the others and blended in among the sea of solemn faces.
It couldn't be true, and yet it undoubtedly was: Sir Roger of Gisborne was a leper. Gemma clung to her daughter's hand and Rebecca found she had not the courage to lift her head to look at her master or his family. Perhaps if she did not look it did not have to be real. She winced as she heard Ghislaine crying. She seethed as she heard the priest speak so callously. She wanted to be anywhere, but standing over the grave of a living man. Gemma gave her daughter's hand a shake and Rebecca knew she was silently chastising her to look up. Rebecca raised her eyes for a moment, in time to see the retreating form of her master. They would never see him again and all had been made into uncertainty in the same instant.
"I want ya t' see." Gemma whispered to her daughter. Rebecca knew better than to argue.
As the rest of the village dispersed back to their homes, Rebecca embraced her mother. "It's gonna be all right." She said, "Isn't it?"
Gemma brushed off the embrace, drying her eyes on the sleeve of her dress she took her daughter by the arm and led her back to the manor. "There was a time not too long ago, when I would have said yes. Shame ya can't be a child for just a minute longer. We'll manage. I don't know how, but we'll make do. I need t' go an' see t' the mistress now. She'll be wanting for friends now, lord knows."
"Mother!" Rebecca called out, she had been hoping to spend more time with her. Everything was going wrong and she was frightened. What would happen to them without a master? It was not as if Sir Roger had gone away to fight a war in a distant land. He was dead to all who knew him now. What would this mean? The villagers were not likely to let a woman continue governing this estate, especially when they already despised her for her French blood.
"What is it?" Gemma asked, looking back at her daughter.
Rebecca paused. Her mother had spoken to her before as she would a woman not a girl. She wouldn't be able to hide behind her mother's skirts anymore. She would have to bear the strain of whatever burden should fall upon their shoulders. She shook her head, "Nevermind." Her knees were shaking and her throat felt parch. She needed water. She turned to make her way towards the manor; hopefully there would be something she could do for a time to sufficiently clear away all her dark thoughts.
As she crossed the grounds she saw Guy running towards her. His head was down and he wasn't looking where he was going and it was obvious that he didn't care. Rebecca could see the confusion and pain he was in so clearly it stopped her dead in her tracks. Guy glanced up, his eyes wild with mourning hatred. He staggered a bit when he realized he had nearly collided with his friend. He sped up his pace all the more to get to her. Upon reaching her he clumsily wrapped Rebecca in his arms, and she did the same. "Becca..." It was such a sad and lost whisper.
"I'm here." She gasped out.
Then he did something that Rebecca would never have expected: he began to cry. It was barely perceptible at first. He hardly made a sound. He quietly lowered his head onto her shoulder and sobbed with all the restraint of one ashamed of the action, but unable to contain it a moment longer. Rebecca never let on that she knew he was crying. She held him tightly, neither hushing nor verbally consoling him. She cast wary glances all about her. They were out in the opening, standing in between the path leading to the servant's quarters and the side of the manor. Anyone could come walking along and spot them together.
"It isn't right." Guy said hatefully, "They had no right to force him to leave! He's their master--"
"And it's for all o' our sakes he left." Rebecca said, "He's a sick man, Guy. He could infect the entire village."
"My mother would have taken care of him." Guy swore.
"And caught the disease herself? Or ya? Or the little mistress?"
"You're siding with them?!" He immediately pulled away from her regarding her with same scornful look that she had come to loathe when he would give it to others.
"No!" Rebecca said, "I'm saying he was trying t' protect ya!"
"He should have fought for us instead." Guy muttered darkly, "If your father was here he'd have rather died than see him thrown from his own home!"
Rebecca lowered her head quietly. Guy sucked in his breath, for a brief moment horrified by what he had said, "I didn't mean that." he whispered, trying to draw the now shying woman back into his arms. "I swear I didn't."
"I know..." Rebecca said, finally allowing herself to be taken back into her friend's embrace. She kissed his cheek softly before nestling against him.
"Lord Malcolm stays with us." Guy growled, "Him and his brat. It makes me sick, Becca. I don't want them in Gisborne, but mother says I should welcome him. I don't like Malcolm, I don't like how he looks at my home with the eye of one who thinks he already owns it."
"But he doesn't." Rebecca assuaged. "I suspect ya do now."
"I don't want it." Guy spat.
"That's not true." Rebecca hushed.
"It is. I don't want to run this estate. I don't know how...I can't--"
"Ya will learn, Guy. I'll help ya."
"You? Help me? You wouldn't understand any of it." Guy choked in between tears and condescending laughter.
"Then we'll make a fine pair, won't we?" She said softly, her hands rubbing along in his back in gentle, soothing strokes. It was then Guy realized she had only been edging him on to draw him away from his grief. "Ya have t' trust your parents made the right decision, Guy."
"That is easy for you to say, you have never had to doubt your mother or your father." Guy sighed.
"We have t' manage." Rebecca said, "We'll make do." She realized she was repeating her mother's words and she found her cheeks flushing pink. Somehow the words sounding more comforting when spoken. Now she understand why her mother always said them.
"That is not good enough." Guy retorted. It wouldn't be. Nothing was ever good enough. Sometimes Rebecca thought Guy expected too much from himself. His expectations of himself and others were so high that no one could possibly meet them, and so he was forever frustrated with some aspect or other. Rebecca would not continue with this self-pitying conversation. Let him have his moment of grief. Let him have his doubts and his frustrations. In time he would come into his own.
Rebecca felt Guy kiss her neck. Obviously at least one thing was good enough for him, and that was her. She managed a small little smile as she let him indulge in this one comfort they both shared. Guy's lips quickly claimed hers and Rebecca willing sank into the few moments of oblivion. She was no longer scared of such acts, as she had been all those few weeks ago when Guy had first tried to kiss her. She had promised herself that such a thing would not happen again, but she found that Guy could be a rather persuasive young man when he wished to be. This was rapidly becoming a habit, and Rebecca was finding less and less of a reason to refuse.
A surprised and almost taunting gasp caused the pair to split apart. Young Robin of Locksley was staring at them from his hiding place around the manor's outer walls. Seeing that his position had suddenly become compromised the young boy quickly turned and fled.
"You little sneak!" Guy shouted, chasing after him in a fury.
Robin stood no chance against the older boy. He was dragged back by the collar of his shirt. Guy looked as if he would choke the life out of the boy. Rebecca had never seen such anger in Guy's eyes. She had never thought him capable of it. "What do you think you're doing? Spying on me for your father?"
"I wasn't spying!" Robin coughed as she tried to struggle out of Guy's grip. He swung and flopped about on the floor like a fish in it's death throes. "I was gonna apologize to you for what I said, but then you started talking to her," He tried to point over to Rebecca, "So I was gonna wait!"
"Liar." Guy hissed.
"Am not!" Robin whined, "Anyway, didn't think you were gonna start kissing her. If you don't let me go, maybe I will tell--" Guy yanked him by the collar silencing the boy.
"If you say one word of this I'll kill you." Guy threatened.
"Guy!" Rebecca placed a hand upon his arm, this was getting out of hand. "Let him go."
"He saw us, Becca. He'll tell his father!" Guy shouted.
"And strangling the poor lad is the way t' handle it? What's gotten inta ya?" Rebecca chided.
Shamefaced, Guy loosened his grip upon Robin, but he was far from letting him go. Rebecca knelt down so that she was eye level with the boy. "Do ya know who I am, Master Robin?"
Robin shook his head, wide eyed. "My name is Rebecca." She went on, "I'm Guy's friend. Do ya know what ya saw today could get me in a lot o' trouble, Master Robin?"
Robin nodded slowly, but Rebecca couldn't be sure if he truly understood the situation or not. "Now, I know ya don't like my master, an' ya probably think telling your father about this would be rather funny, right? Do ya know what could happen t' me? I could be whipped, or put in the stocks, or even sent away from Gisborne. If a friend o' yours had that happen t' them would ya want that?"
"No." Robin said slowly, "But you're not my friend!"
"If people let others get hurt just because they weren't friends, where would we be, Master Robin? Guy won't hurt ya, he'll let ya go. An' we can all forget all o' this a never speak o' it again."
"I don't have to listen to you, you know." Robin pointed out smugly even as he felt Guy tug once more upon his collar.
Rebecca gritted her teeth, it was getting rather hard to remain civil with the boy, "I know that, Master Robin, but I am also certain ya are not the kind o' boy t' see anyone get hurt."
There was a silence for a minute and Rebecca lost her stern look. She looked at him with pleading eyes. Robin was just a boy. He would not understand, but she could only pray that he would try to. "I won't tell anyone." He finally said grudgingly.
"Thank ya, Master Robin." Rebecca said getting to her feet.
Guy was reluctant to let the boy go, but realizing if he detained him any longer they might loose the little trust that they had built. He released his hold about Robin's collar and the boy went running back to the manor. Rebecca placed a hand upon Guy's arm, but he jerked away from her violently. "We can't do this." Rebecca sighed.
Guy shook his head, the fire in his eyes had not gone out just yet, "So it's not enough that Locksley rids me of my father, but that he frightens you away as well?" He spat venomously.
"I haven't gone anywhere." Rebecca countered, "But if word of this gets out--you'll be the master of this manor now an' this'll drag your standing into the mud an' I won't have that, Guy!"
Guy knew that she was right. "I don't want to lose you." He said quietly, as if admitting this was uncomfortable.
So he did care for her. She knew he did, but it was nice to be reminded of it every once in a while. "What would ya have me do?!" She said desperately as she saw no solution in sight.
"We'll be more careful. Make sure no one sees us." Guy fumbled.
"Grand plan, Guy." Rebecca snorted, rolling her eyes, "I see we've gotten off on a fine start."
"I don't see you coming up with anything helpful!" Guy turned on her accusingly.
"Sorry." Rebecca grunted, rubbing at her temples, "It is just--"
"Meet me by the river tonight after midnight." Guy said coldly, "I'll expect you; that is, if you have a care for our friendship at all!"
A/N: I had oh so much fun while writing this chapter. I just love it when things flow so easily. :) Hope you enjoyed it and the next chapter will be soon!