Miles away to the north, the Sheriff was slowing his horse in the lashing rain and wind to stop and rest. Quickly, he secured the horse, then unpacked a large sack strapped to the horse. He set about establishing camp, securing the tent, then entering inside where he could get warm and dry.

Once inside he sat down and poured himself some brandy and listened to the rain tapping on the canvas. It reminded him of the first night he bedded his lady Rhiannon. He closed his eyes. He could suddenly almost smell her dampened hair as he did when he was kissing her, while her still moist naked skin was pressing next to him, urging him. If only his times with her weren't incessantly cut too short because of the Fallen Knight. Every blessed time! The rain was lashing harder on the tent. He pulled his cloak closer about him. The sound of the rain falling harder on the tent and the objects around it were creating a rhythmic tempo. It lured his thoughts into a dreamlike state, yet he felt incredibly awake. He tried to focus on his next course of action. He had chosen to obey the Fallen Knight's request to come alone. There were already men stationed in the vicinity where the abandoned castle was. Guy, Farnsworth, and the rest of his men were at this very moment searching for the murderous insect. Occasionally, the Sheriff second guessed himself and wished he'd brought a few of his men regardless of the instructions on the ransom note. He would've been able to outsmart the Fallen Knight so he would never know. At least if he'd brought them along, he have extra insurance. He was cutting his time close for meeting this man, since he'd stayed behind to comfort Rhiannon. He may not have an opportunity to meet with Guy and the others prior to the planned meeting with the Fallen Knight. In fact, the Sheriff surmised, at this rate – any meeting with Guy will be by happenstance.

He would be on his own. He would need his wit about him. He would also need to be shrewd, calculating, and resourceful.

A flash of lightening followed by a loud crack of thunder stunned him briefly. He sipped the brandy, then fell back on his cot. The light of an oil lamp cast a glow around him. His eyes grew heavy. He relaxed and imagined his green eyed lady lying naked next to him. He smiled as he drifted off in dreams, as the rain continued.

The Fallen Knight was packing some things to take with him on his journey. While he was about in the village that day, he spotted Guy Gisborne and he suspected, some of the Sheriff's men with him. He figured they had remained behind, obviously to look for him. This turn of events set his plans in motion, forcing it ahead by a few days. He'd already decided the next step, but he needed to make his exit now. It would give him more time to carry out the plan anyway. He bundled up his things, picked up the infant, and placed the child in a cart behind the horse. A storm was approaching. He kicked the horse and urged it toward the hill near to the abandoned castle. Once there, he stopped. He took a large sack to the top of the hill, opened it, and began to assemble the necessary items, even though the wind was kicking up, lashing his hood about his neck and face, he kept working. He smiled to himself as he busily created his masterpiece – a little surprise for the good Sheriff of Nottingham. He had no time to secure it, or watch it would not be disturbed in the interim until the Sheriff arrived, and he hoped Guy and the Sheriff's men wouldn't be by here before the Sheriff came to meet him, and his wee little bastard baby.

He stood back to admire his work once his task was finished. Dark shadows of a sinister smile crept across his face. He bent down to the baby who lay crying in the cart.

"There now kid…hush. You won't have to put up with me much longer. I have a long journey ahead." He rubbed his chin and looked to the south.

"You'll drive me even more insane than I already am toting you with me all the way back to Nottingham. No! It'll ruin everything!"

The baby was wailing. He had no idea why. He was losing his patience with this kid. Even though, he admitted, it was kind of slightly cute looking, despite having the Sheriff for it's father.

"Ahh…don't worry kid. I might be a mean bastard, but I'm not that bad that I'd leave you with him either! It's not your fault your father is a murderous tyrant!"

He was completing his very last task. He signed his name to the bottom of the document, rolled it, and sealed it with wax. Then he placed it in the basket, there by the large rock, on the top of the hill to greet the good Sheriff when he arrived with the gold.

"Come, baby." He said as he mounted the horse, taking one last glance toward his masterpiece. He wished he could commission a painter to paint the scene. "I must be on my way. And we must get you settled first. I do not wish to run into your black hearted father on my way back to Nottingham."

He kicked the horse to encourage it into a gallop and set off into the night through the rain that was just beginning to fall. The infant was lured to sleep in the cart behind him, wrapped in blankets. The infant looked up at clouds moving swiftly and scenes flashing past, before it's soft green eyes closed in sleep.

Days passed into night. The time was moving slowly ahead. Rhiannon sat up and prepared to wash and dress for the day. It had been nearly a fortnight since her lover left on his journey north. She was filled with trepidation for his safety the longer he was away. She knew he was strong and capable, yet she was beginning to sense danger too, just like Meridwyn. She wondered where her friend was. She opened the door and stepped into the den outside of the Sheriff's private chambers. Lady Margaret, the midwife stood abruptly from her chair to greet her, no doubt intending to block her passage exiting the Sheriff's quarters.

"My Lady, I strongly recommend you return to your chambers and rest!" Lady Margaret nearly shouted her exasperation with the girl.

"Thank you milady, I am well. I just need to take a little stroll for some air. It's rather stuffy in there." She nodded towards the chambers. Then a realization, she looked again at Lady Margaret.

"My chambers?! Is that what you said? I have my own home milady!"

"That's not what I meant." Lady Margaret stammered a reply.

Lady Rhiannon advanced slowly towards the stout woman. She raised her eyebrow as she fixed her questioning eyes upon her. "I've been wondering. Why is it a midwife was assigned by the Sheriff to look after me?" She moved in a circle slowly around Lady Margaret. "You are a midwife by profession are you not my Lady Margaret?" She finally stopped and fixed her gaze upon her, unmoving.

No wonder the Sheriff loves her so, Margaret thought. She can be a lady version of himself, when she wants to be. Her reply was swift.

"Because, my Lady Rhiannon, I'm the closest thing to a nurse this town has to offer. The Sheriff did not wish to impose his physician upon you. He thought you'd be more at ease being cared for by a knowledgeable woman, than his personal physician." She sighed. She had been anticipating this question. And she'd been instructed by the Sheriff not to mention the baby. Though, personally, she thought it worse to prolong the inevitable. She was going to have to know sometime!

"Oh." She said. "I am going to take a short stroll dear lady, then I will return to rest. Surely you understand my need for space? I was indeed held captive after all." She demurred.

Lady Margaret shook her head. She lacked the energy to argue. She was beginning to understand the mystery of how it was that Lady Rhiannon had survived her ordeal. "All right, fine. Be sure to keep it brief. I have strict instructions from the Sheriff to ensure that you rest and recover. It's time you begin to comply!"

"Thank you, my Lady Margaret." Rhiannon smiled before heading through the door. She started slowly down the circular stairs, then when out of view, she quickened her steps.

She found her friend strolling in the gardens.

"Oh! That woman! The both of them! Oh!" she cried out as she stomped her foot, shouting in frustration.

"What is the matter, Rhiannon?" Meridwyn came forward, puzzled.

"Those two women – Margaret and Mortianna! Don't they understand? I live alone. I need space! I was held prisoner for God sakes! Let me out of that room. Oh! They will not relent…it's loathsome!"

"Well you're here now. Come, a walk will help to clear your mind." She lead her down a pathway among a variety of flowers - peonies, English roses, heather in large stone vases. "It's private here too. Guy and I used to come here sometimes, when we needed to be alone. To talk about things, or to…." Her words trailed off, and she cleared her throat.

"I understand. It seemed to me that it took some arranging on the Sheriff's part to ensure we wouldn't be disturbed as well. He had to speak to his guards before we could be alone."

"Yes, sometimes it's complicated." Meridwyn agreed. "I wonder…." She said softly, absently.

"Wonder what?" Rhiannon asked.

"Where he is now….what he's doing?" Meridwyn said.

"Well….he's hopefully meeting up with the Sheriff by now, and together they're forming a plan to capture that outlaw!"

"No. I don't mean Guy, Lady Rhiannon."

"Whomever do you mean, then?" she asked puzzled.

"There was another, before Guy. Not a man of great means, but oh, he was feisty, yet tender at the same time. Strangely, I have not seen him in years. Oh my, how long now?" She said as she looked up.

"Who?"

"Three I think. Yes, three years! Isn't that odd? Oh I looked for him. He must have tired of me. He just disappeared, all of sudden…just like that!" she snapped her fingers up near to Rhiannon's face, startling her. "It was so strange. I really thought he loved me you know. I hope nothing happened to him…."

"Who?!" Rhiannon asked.

"Will. Will Scarlett. He was a friend of the Sheriff's archenemy at the time – Robin of Locksley. They used to have all kinds of adventures together."

"What was he like?"

"He was good to me, but that was so long ago. Honestly, I think he's long gone. I'm sure he moved on and settled somewhere. Or maybe not. He was never one to stay put in one place too long."

"When did you meet Guy then?" Rhiannon coaxed.

"Oh. Guy was not the next in succession after Will." Meridwyn hesitated to add, but she had already mentioned it.

"Then who was it?" Rhiannon asked.

"It was your Sheriff my Lady. Don't you recall my telling you about it? Alas, it was very brief….barely worth mentioning in fact." She coughed. She was feeling uncomfortable, now that they were friends.

Rhiannon looked at her, raising a brow.

"No. No, Rhiannon. We did not. It never got that far. In fact, that was part of the reason I moved on. I met Guy through him. He'll be a wonderful stand in brother in law one day, if Guy would ever ask me. But as man and woman, my dear, we were completely wrong for each other. He'll always be dear to me, and a friend to me. But it'll never amount to any more than that. It never did."

Rhiannon relaxed and smiled. She was glad. She didn't wish to feel threatened by her friend.

"It was nothing more than a girlish fancy on my part. We tried, but there was no chemistry. I was sad about it, until I met Guy. And then, I understood what the talk was all about. The chemistry was there with Guy, it still is. Funny, it was there with Will too?"

"I wonder why it is you are thinking of him?" Rhiannon said as she stopped to sniff the scent from a large bloom of a soft pink peonie. She picked it and put it in her silky hair, offering one to her friend as well. Meridwyn accepted and did the same with her bloom.

"I guess because it's been so long since I've been with Guy. It's been…oh my….over a month now. Yes. He left with the Sheriff the first time. My mind is taking odd directions. I don't know why." She paused. "Why am I wondering about Will? I do miss Guy. I do love him!"

"I know you do Meridwyn." They stopped a moment to admire the beautiful flowers, the landscaping around them. A fog was moving in toward them. Rhiannon spoke "Do you ride?"

"Ride? What do you mean? Horses?" Meridwyn said

"Yes."

"I have a little. I'm no expert horseman by any means."

"That's okay, I'm a bit of an equestrian. Have to be, when you're a lady living alone. Would you be up for a journey?"

"What on earth do you have in mind?"

Rhiannon raised her brow and stared at her with her green eyes, smirking.

"Rhiannon. No! We are not heading north to find Guy and the Sheriff!" Meridwyn shook her head, her fiery curls dancing in the wind.

"Are you afraid?" Rhiannon asked, challenging her.

"Oh my God. Rhiannon….you've gone mad! That's it! I'm going to speak with the witch and the midwife. I had them pegged all wrong!" she said as she picked up her skirts and turned around starting back quickly towards the castle.

Rhiannon quickened her pace and caught up to her.

"Meridwyn. Wait!" she cried out. Meridwyn stopped, rolled her eyes, then paused to listen. Rhiannon continued "Yes I've gone mad. You're going mad too! Don't you want to see him? I'd die to see him again!"

"Rhiannon, you have got to calm down. Listen to me! The journey is fraught with danger. There is a very bad outlaw at large. The Sheriff and Guy are pursuing him. Until they capture him, he is on the loose. We cannot afford to run into this man!"

"I know but, just to see him again. To hold him again…" she sighed. She missed touching his black wavy hair, kissing his incredible lips, running her hands over his strong shoulders. His smile, his touch, his voice…

"Remember what I told you before, Rhiannon." Meridwyn said as she placed her hands on her shoulders. "He will return. They always do. This is how it must be when you are…." She was cut off

"The Lady to the most important man about town. Yes, I know." Rhiannon finished the sentence.

"So enough of this talk. You've only just recovered. And the Sheriff would not be pleased – you know that! He went to a great deal of trouble, assigning heaven knows how many people in all to watch over you. You do know that Margaret and Mortianna and everyone else are simply following his implicit orders don't you?"

"Yes." A beat "Are you?"

"I am….but only because he is right." Meridwyn reassured as she lightly kissed Rhiannon's forehead.

That very night, some two hundred miles in the distance north from where the ladies Rhiannon and Meridwyn had collapsed side by head still dressed in their gowns on the Sheriff's bed (and Lady Margaret seated in the den outside the chambers, disgusted as usual with their girlish games) – in a strange turn of events, it was the first time in days there was no rain. And, as the Fallen Knight had requested, there the Sheriff approached the hill by the abandoned castle as the moon was peaking over the horizon. With his sack of one thousand pieces of gold to offer, he dismounted and started up the hill where the man was standing. It looked like there was a basket lying at his feet. At forty yards he stopped.

"Bring the child to me!" he called out.

Nothing. The man just stood there. No movement.

"You have three seconds!" He shouted as he pulled his bow and arrow out and aimed it expertly. "Now…come toward me with the child!"

The Fallen Knight didn't budge. Nor did he speak. Swiftly the Sheriff shot a bow through the air. It met it's target. The center of the man's chest. The man was hit, but again, he did not move. He did not fall. That was not a man at all! The Sheriff's eyes widened. He ran towards – he didn't know what. And then… the basket was at the foot of a scarecrow, not a man. He looked down at the mass of blankets in the basket, it was wrapped around a large rock. Placed under that was a scroll. He muttered his disgust as he took it. He unrolled it, and tried to pry it open while holding the torch near to it for light. Finally, he was able to make out the words:

"My Good Sheriff of Nottingham,

If indeed your eyes are cast upon this scroll

I admit, I'm impressed.

I never thought you'd part with your money to spare a child.

It makes my plans for you all the sweeter….

Because, my Good Sheriff,

Now….perhaps you understand my position.

You think you can pay me off?

Your gold cannot buy back my brother's life, my face, or give my lover back to me. So….

I no longer have your bastard child.

The child was given to a home in the village nearby.

Love is gone. Passed away….

Or is it?

You have two loves now. Before you had none. Both are in opposing directions. A distance of some two hundred miles.

Will you look for your child?

Or, shall you return to Nottingham. For your Lady?

Oh….I forgot. She's safe there at Nottingham Castle no less. Surrounded by your guards. Isn't she Sheriff?

Just as your two consorts the mistresses, Catherine and Hecate, were safe. Tucked into their cozy little beds with your guards stationed nearby.

You do remember them don't you?

Yes, dear Sheriff – safe and sound.

Your child, or your lady?

Don't think on it long.

I can play this as long as needed, and I shall.

I hope you can begin to endure the game…

The Fallen Knight