XX

Exile

Rebecca had been concentrating on removing the rope from about her wrists for nearly two hours. In a calm state of delirium, she wriggled her hands against one another, hoping to slide the rope off of her. After feeling the knots give a little she began to rub them against the edge of the bed post. The rough wood cut into the tough strands until eventually, Rebecca managed to gain enough room between her wrists and the rope, to free herself. The broken rope fell to the floor, slithering into a coil like an aggravated snake.

With a dull feeling of triumph, Rebecca sat upright and pulled the gag off of her mouth. Silence filled her ears, drowning out the rush of panic threatening to blind her. She had no choice, she would have to make a run for it. Swinging herself over, she leapt off of the bed and made her way to the door. She wrenched it open, and down she went: nearly tripping over the stairs, colliding into chairs, cutting through the hallway; until at last she saw the door insight.

This elation of escape was quickly cut short at the realization of the two guards standing just outside. Unaware of their presence at first, Rebecca merely ran out the door and into the grounds beyond, thinking that she would make a clean break of it. One of the guards; however, had been given different instructions. She was snatched up in an instant and restrained. She begged and screamed and pleaded to be released, but the men had been given orders by the Prince himself. No one was to leave Locksley Manor. She tried to explain that Guy had overpowered her. That she had been entirely innocent. The men, of course, did not believe this and they brought her back in doors and shackled her to one of the wooden posts just beyond the main hallway.

She screamed for a little while and struggled bravely, but after a while the fight went out of her and she sat quiet and resigned against the post. Exhausted from the events of the day she slipped into a twilight state of sleep. It was only when she was brutally kicked hours later that came back into reality. Too tired to have cried out in pain, Rebecca merely grunted and snapped her head up. The manor had grown darker now that evening was falling. Could a day really disappear so fast? Through the shadows and her blurred vision, Rebecca thought Isabella was standing over her. Although she couldn't be sure.

"Pathetic." Now she was sure. That was Isabella's voice, the woman kneeled before her eyeing her with contempt.

"The Prince didn't have ya arrested then, did he?" Rebecca said, her words coming in choking gasps as she tried to regain her breath.

"Far from it." Isabella hissed, "He's given me everything I could wish. I'm the new Sheriff of Nottingham."

"Congratulations." Rebecca said, "May it bring ya every joy."

"Oh, I wouldn't mock me right now, Becca. That's a very dangerous thing to do." Isabella chided.

"Why is that? Ya gonna kill me?" Rebecca asked.

"I could." Isabella said, "You disobeyed my orders and released my prisoner. I could have you killed."

"Then don't stand on ceremony for my sake." Rebecca shrugged as best she could, with her arms shackled above her head.

Isabella grinned wolfishly, "Lucky for you, there'll be no need for an execution. Guy was recaptured not but an hour ago. So you see," she giggled seeing Rebecca's face fall, "I don't have to go through the trouble of killing both of you."

"You're lying." Rebecca decided.

"I assure you I am not."

"You've lied t' me before an' you're lying now!" Rebecca shouted, struggling once again.

Isabella shook her head, "What power my brother has over you, Becca." She sighed, "It is a shame. I could have given you everything; made you a rich and powerful woman. You could have had my favour as well as the Prince's. The entire kingdom could have been open to you and you threw it away."

"I have no desire for riches or power, let alone a kingdom." Rebecca said, "An' I do not know when ya became so sick with greed."

"You fool. When will you realize that I am not the girl you remember?" Isabella shouted, as if offended.

"I do realize it." Rebecca said, "The Isabella I knew, the girl that I helped t' raise was a sweet and dear child that would have rather died than harmed her own brother or any one whom she loved. No, Isabella. I see who ya are...an' I wash my hands o' ya."

"And I you. Guards!" She shouted, rising to her feet as her retinue marched into the house, "Take the prisoner to Nottingham. Keep her in the dungeons for the night. Tomorrow she shall receive her punishment."

***

Guy had been surprised when he had not been immediately taken to the dungeons. He had been left outside in the cage. Only when night had fallen did he realize exactly why Isabella had ordered he be left there. The night could prove exceedingly cold when one was left hanging in a cage. By morning he was still shivering fiercely and the hunger, which had been gnawing at him for hours, had disappeared into a dull ache. His arms were throbbing with poor circulation, but he had no desire to struggle against this discomfort. He had resigned himself to it. Eventually, Isabella would put him in the dungeons and then it was just a matter of time until he was killed. He was almost grateful of this inevitability.

The chilly first hours of daylight gave way to warmer sun, and the increase of the light and heat managed to rouse Guy from his torpid state. Behind him, Guy could hear the gates to the castle being raised as guards marched in leading a crowd behind them. Guy raised his head a little to see what was happening. The sound of trumpets cut through the air and Guy watched with bitter hatred as his sister strode out of the castle doors to a throne chair. Even from his position at the furthest wall he could see the smug smile plastered on her face. He wanted nothing more than to cut her down from her high perch.

The immediacy of his hatred soon gave way to curiosity. Was she going to make a speech to the populace? She had already done so yesterday. A decree then? That would be like her, to gain the people's trust, but these poor fools had no idea what they were getting into. She would use them, just as Vaysey had, she would prove no different.

"Bring out the prisoner." Isabella commanded.

Prisoner? Had there been one in the dungeon? He did not know. Perhaps she was going to pardon a few of the unfortunates who had been brought to the cells. That would be clever of her. This idea was shattered; however, the instant Guy saw just who the prisoner was. Stumbling out into the light was Rebecca. Her arms were shackled and so were her ankles so she was forced to hobble as she walked up to the scaffold. Her hair was matted and dirty and falling out of the ribbon she usually kept it up in. Her pale skin seemed to have tarnished overnight by the grime of the prison cell. She walked with all the determination of a dead man, and as she mounted the scaffold she turned to stare at Isabella blankly, accepting whatever punishment was in store of her.

Guy found himself struggling in his bonds at the sight of her. No one could see him and so no one ordered for him to be still. The steel of his own shackles cut into his already raw skin, but this did not stop him. He pulled and strained against them like a wild man. Although what did it matter really if Rebecca was killed? He would be joining her shortly, of that he had no doubt.

"Rebecca Tanner," Isabella said, "You are charged with aiding the escape of a known traitor to the people; my brother, Guy of Gisborne. Do you deny this accusation?"

"No." Rebecca said.

"And you do not wish to repent this crime and ask for my mercy?" Isabella asked.

"I didn't think ya were capable o' mercy, my lady." Rebecca's taunt was greeted with hisses from the crowd.

Isabella's smug smile dropped just a little as anger flushed her cheeks red for a moment. "The prisoner refuses to repent." She announced formerly, "Then let her be punished for her crimes, but let her first know that I am a woman of mercy. I'm sure the former Sheriff would have had you executed for such crimes, but I am not such a Sheriff. Let the prisoner receive thirty lashes, and may it serve as a lesson for you."

Two of the soldiers came forward to unshackle her wrists and ankles and tie her to the two posts running parallel on either side of her. One of the men tore open the back of her dress, exposing the shift she wore beneath it. The crack of the whip could be heard snapping through the air. The crowd gathered together tighter, while simultaneously pulling away at the sound; like a great wave they moved together in this rhythm, pulling forward to watch and dashing away to escape the cruelty.

Guy found himself wincing with every strike of the lash. For all of Rebecca's momentary bravery at defying Isabella, she was not so stoic as to be silent when such pain was inflicted upon her. She cried out each time the whip struck her. After the fourth lash, her skin had broke and blood stained the tip of the whip and every strike thereafter brought forth more blood until her back was stained with it and it ran down in rivulets. By the thirtieth lash, she was slumped in her bonds and her head lolled from side to side and it was apparent that she had lost her voice from screaming.

She was cut down shortly after and she fell forward onto her knees. Isabella rose from her throne and walked down the castle steps to meet her on the scaffold. "Now have you seen my mercy." She commented pityingly to the woman, "I have given you your life; however, Nottingham can not afford to harbour criminals and traitors. So for this you are exiled from this shire." Isabella announced, "To return only upon pain of death. Fair you well, Rebecca." She turned to walk away, letting the guards help the injured woman upright to escort her out of the castle.

The crowd dispersed with them and soon the courtyard was bare again. Guy watched as Rebecca was led out beyond the gates. She was stumbling and barely conscious, and so did not see him even as she walked directly past him. Guy once again strained against his bonds, but she was gone.

"Ah, brother, it seems that everywhere you go you bring chaos and pain with you." Isabella had walked over to his cage, once again that smug smile had flickered back upon her face.

Catching sight of her, he fought to get to her, wanting nothing more than to rip her apart. "Temper, Guy." Isabella giggled like a girl as she jumped backwards.

"What was the point in that?" He accused with a low growl, "Becca was never a threat to you, you didn't have to banish her!"

"Are you really that thick, Guy?" Isabella taunted, drawing closer to his cage. "I'll fill you in on a little secret of mine. Dear Becca was a threat to me the moment you brought her to the castle. It only took me a moment to realize that you were still highly protective over her and she was still sickeningly in love with you. Oh? You didn't know this?" She laughed as she saw the astonished look pass over Guy's face, "Of course you didn't. Obviously having Becca around would prove problematic, as you can see, she did try so hard to save you didn't she? You were so predictable, Guy, all it took was a hint there and a little nudge and you actually believed she had betrayed you. In your defence, Becca had begun to think you were willing to do anything to get rid of her, but oh well. Getting that outlaw's tag was easy enough though. Oh, Guy you should see yourself right now." She laughed uproariously at the sight of him. "Guards, take him away," she managed to say in between her laughter.

She walked off, the horrified cries and screams her brother shouted at her proved to be music to her ears.

Fall, 1173

"Father, Father!" Robin cried as he came tearing up the hill, his bow in his hand.

"What is it?" Malcolm of Locksley asked, placing a steady hand upon his son's shoulder in an attempt to calm him down.

"Fight in the village." He panted, "I think Rebecca's caught down there!"

"You did right in coming to me." Malcolm said as he followed his son over to where he had first caught a glimpse of the fighting. Malcolm stood at the crest of the hill looking down. He could see a small group of young boys tussling about and for an instant he caught sight of a girl's dress and small fists lashing out at the attackers.

In an instant he went running down the hill and as soon as he was near enough to the fight he called out, "What's going on here?" The two young boys looked up from their fight and immediately broke apart. The girl who had been caught in the middle of the tussle was left flat on her back. She had a cut at the bottom corner of her right eye and it was drizzling blood. Her cheek was bruised and turning a bright shade of reddish purple and her fists were bruised and dirtied as well. Even for all of this colourful decoration, Malcolm recognized her as Rebecca Tanner.

"Have you lost your senses?" Malcolm said as he helped Rebecca to her feet, "Fighting a helpless girl."

Rebecca glared at him for the insinuation, but she held her tongue, spitting blood into the dust. "She was the one who started it." One of the boys accused adamantly.

"Really now?" Malcolm said, unconvinced.

"What's all this then?" Another voice broke through as Bailiff Longthorn strode over to the scene of the fight. "Fighting in the town square?"

"I'm handling this, Longthorn." Malcolm snapped.

"Be that as it may." Longthorn said snidely, "I see no reason why I not be present in this unofficial hearing."

Malcolm had no choice, but to concede. "Now, tell me what really happened."

The three culprits said nothing at first, but eventually Rebecca spoke up, "They were making remarks, sir, 'bout Lady Gisborne an' G—an' her son." Her eyes shifted away from Malcolm, her cheeks burning with bruises and anger.

"What remarks?"

"Saying she wasn't fit t' be Lady o' the manor." She spat, "Saying how she an' her family ought t' have been thrown out with the master."

"And she just attacked us!" One of the boys suddenly shouted.

"Well ya shouldn't have been saying those things!" Rebecca challenged.

"An' where d'you come off punishing us, eh?" The boy said, "Not like it's your place, even if you are Master Guy's little whore!"

Rebecca lunged for the boy, but Longthorn restrained her. "That's quite enough out of you." He said. "One more outburst and I'll see you in the stocks."

Rebecca calmed down, her arms clenched at her sides, still glaring venom at the two boys. "I think that this can be handled without anymore violence, don't you, Longthorn?" Malcolm said. "Send them home. No permanent damage was done. You two," he gestured to the boys, "apologize to her."

"Sorry." The two muttered under their breath.

"And you, Rebecca." Malcolm prompted.

"I'm sorry ya couldn't have been born smarter." She said proudly. She was rewarded with a cuff about the ears from Longthorn.

"Impudent child. I warned you. To the stocks with you." He grabbed her by the collar and began to drag her away.

"Longthorn!" Malcolm shouted, "I said no more. You've done your duty, now see that the boys don't cause further trouble. I'll take care of the girl." Seeing that the man was about to argue the point further he growled out, "Go!"

Rebecca was left standing before Malcolm. She would not meet his frowning gaze. "Why do you insist upon starting trouble, Rebecca?" He asked her.

"I told ya, my lord, they were slandering my mistress's name."

"And it is not your place to go fighting over it." Malcolm said.

"My father died for the master." Rebecca snapped, "O' course it's my place."

"Your loyalty is honourable, Rebecca." Malcolm said, "But I am certain your father would not want your own reputation to come under question."

"I don't care about my reputation." Rebecca muttered petulantly. Then, upon realizing who she was speaking to, she winced, "My lord..."

"Why don't you get back to the manor, Rebecca." Malcolm said, "I don't see any reason why anyone else has to know of this, do you?"

Realizing that he was sparing her for any further humiliation or punishment, Rebecca stared at him warily. He had never been overly fond of her and she had certainly made her dislike of him very clear. Why the, would he spare her? She had spoken out of turn and made a spectacle of herself in the middle of the town. "Thank you, my lord." She said slowly as she turned to go.

She tried to think further on this conundrum, occasionally glancing back over her shoulder to see if he was watching her. Eventually the pain racing through her tired body won her over and she focused on walking back to the manor. Her mother wasn't going to be overly pleased at the state of her. She could always explain that she had fallen down—although Rebecca was certain that no mere trip would give her bloody knuckles, a black eye and bruised rib cage. It was worth the chance.

"There you are!" A voice from the floor above her shouted, "You said you were only going to be gone a few minutes and half the day's past since then. If you were going to go out wandering you might have said so."

Rebecca froze, her head averted from the balcony, "Can't even go for a walk on my own now can I?"

"Isn't it usually much more entertaining when I'm with you?"

"Yes, but the thing is, Guy, whenever ya say it's just a walk it never turns out t' be just a walk."

"That's where the entertainment comes in."

"Rouge." Rebecca retorted, a smile cracking across her face, "Keep your voice down. Want the whole manor t' hear about it?" The whole manor already knew about it and half the village as well, but the people had a way of keeping gossip to themselves.

"Then come up here." Guy said, leaning against the rail.

"No. I have things t' do an'..."

"Then I'll come down."

"No, no! I..." But he was already making his way down the stairs. Rebecca tried to turn away from him, but Guy playful grabbed at her arm to turn her to face him. She had no choice. She looked up at him and saw in an instant the change come over his expression. She tried to cal him, "Before ya say anything, I'm fine. I swear, it looks worse than it is..."

"Who did this?" He asked quietly.

"No one. I fell coming up the hill, damn dress is too long for me I suppose." Rebecca laughed nervously.

"You fell?" He asked again, no believing her for a second.

She nodded. "Ya know me, always clumsy."

"Becca..."

"Should have been watching where I was going..."

"Becca!"

"All o' a sudden, whoosh, flat on my back, I was an..."

"Don't lie to me, Becca!" Guy said giving her a little shake.

She lowered her head, "Two boys in the village. Heard 'em talking 'bout the mistress an'...an' ya. Gave 'em what for. Got out o' hand, but it's fine. I'm fine. Guy!" She latched onto his arm, trying to pull him away from the door, "Do ya want to prove the gossips right? Just leave it be."

"They hurt you." He said.

"An' what's that got t' do with it? Everyone'll want t' know why ya care over the fact that a servant was beaten." Rebecca tried to reason with him. "Leave it, Guy, for my sake just leave it!"

"What were you thinking, Becca?" Guy asked, "Fighting...God you're lucky you aren't worse off than you are."

Grateful that his anger had at least turned inwards on itself, Rebecca sighed, momentarily resting her head on Guy's shoulder. "So what if I was? You're my friend, Guy. I'd fight for you. I know you'd fight for me too."

"Not when you act like such a fool." he retorted, but he wasn't serious, Rebecca could tell.

She smiled, Guy kissed her quickly. Rebecca pulled away, "Ouch..." she said, putting a hand over her bruised lips.

"Sorry." He apologized. "Should get your injuries seen to."

"Is that your new excuse t' get me upstairs?" Rebecca teased.

"Becca, I was being serious." He said in low tones as he slung an arm about her waist, leading her up the stairs.

"What? So was I. I was hoping you'd let me hide in your room. If my mum catches me like this she'll kill me!"

A/N: The mystery of how Becca and Guy reconcile their differences is going to be solved in the next chapters...actually it is going to be the main plot element up until the very end and I guarantee a good time will be had by all. ;)