Late that night in a clearing outside of a small village to the north, the Sheriff's men had established camp for the night en route to locate the blacksmith. Duke Farnsworth sat alone by the fire penning a scroll for the Sheriff using materials bought at the market, when Mordrid – restless from a bout of insomnia, approached him.
"What's that?" Mordrid asked pointing to the parchment.
"I'm sending word to the Sheriff." The Duke replied.
"That's if he even can be reached at the castle." Mordrid said. "Things may have changed since we last spoke with him. The outlaw might have him out on a wild goose chase for all we know."
"I have to take the chance he's there. He needs to know we have a lead." The Duke said as he dipped his quill in the ink jar to continue writing.
"Don't you think we should wait until we have confirmed our suspicions?" Mordrid asked in another attempt to dissuade him.
"There hasn't been a shred of good news regarding this matter." The Duke said. His wavy reddish hair gleamed against the light cast from the glow of the fire. "This is the closest we've come to having something solid to lead us in the right direction. We're this close to apprehending the Sheriff's infant!" he said as he formed the figure of a small c with his thumb and forefinger. "He deserves to know we're moving in the right direction."
"It might just ire the Sheriff even more! It will give him something more to mull over. You know how temperamental he can be, Duke!" Mordrid pointed out.
"Quite the opposite, I believe. I've a strong hunch it will ease his mind instead. That seems far fetched, I know, but I don't think it's best to keep him in suspense."
"Well, you are the commanding officer in the Sheriff and Guy's absence." Mordrid conceded.
"Indeed." The Duke nodded. "At dawn we must find ourselves a messenger. Have a look in our treasury. We shall need to pay him."
"Very well." Mordrid agreed. "What do you think we should do with the blacksmith and his wife when we find them?" he asked.
"If they have the child we're looking for, we should bring them to Nottingham with us. Let the Sheriff decide their fate."
"They weren't the ones who abducted the infant, if the truth be told, Duke. Maybe we should just take the child and release them?"
"No. We must give him the choice. The Sheriff is difficult to predict. A few years ago he would have hanged them. True he's since softened, but you never know when he'll revert to his old ways. And if that should happen…"
"Then he'll hang us if we don't bring them to him." Mordrid finished for him.
"Exactly. We leave nothing to chance." The Duke said as he sealed the scroll.
In the early morning hours they found a young man who was fit and willing to make the journey to deliver Duke Farnsworth's scroll to the Sheriff.
"You must place this directly into the hands of the Sheriff of Nottingham." The Duke instructed him. "Tell the guards when you get there that Duke Farnsworth sent you. They will show you inside and direct you to him." He said as he gave the sealed document to the messenger as well as a small pouch containing payment in gold for carrying out the task.
"Very well, sir." The young man said. And his journey to Nottingham began.
The Sheriff kept quiet most of that day when he and Rhiannon continued to travel towards Nottingham. The day was overcast and misty as they covered a good deal of ground. He was thinking over his plan. He didn't know if he'd be able to carry it out. How could he say no to this woman? He was beginning to hate himself all over again.
She was always so giving to him. Unrestrained, and lately uninhibited. He kept trying to tell himself he was doing this so he could hold onto her as his wife. Still it did little to ease his mind. Every time she cast a glance at him while they rode their horses south this day, he hated himself. She would eventually wonder why he wouldn't touch her. He only hoped she wouldn't jump to the wrong conclusion about it before he could attempt to tactfully explain. He thought about the night before. She gave herself completely to him, again. He sighed. It was going to be difficult to resist her.
They kept going until it was nearing dusk. In a little while he would find a place for them to stop. In truth, he could keep going, but Rhiannon would need to rest. He looked over at her, then slowed his horse. She was already beginning to nod off. Curses! He should have been paying attention. He guided his horse over to her and took over her reins, expertly managing both of their horses. She opened her eyes when her horse abruptly stopped.
"My lady."
"Are we there?" she asked.
He smiled. "No, my lady. Not quite. We should be there by high noon tomorrow. Right now, however, you need rest." He suggested.
"Oh no, I don't. I can keep going!" she exclaimed.
The Sheriff leaned over and kissed her. "My angel, you're a true soldier. I know you could. But you must rest. I insist. You will want to be at your best when you see Lady Meridwyn won't you?"
"Yes. I should say I would." She sighed. "You are right."
Later that night when she was sound asleep next to him, his arm around her, he stared at the roof of the tent and was relieved she was exhausted. It gave him a way out. He didn't need to pretend tonight. He looked over at her, the beautiful yet mysterious lady who would be his wife. For some strange reason he found himself thinking of Lady Marian - the maid who nearly became his wife.
It was Lady Marian who was somewhat instrumental in his willingness to change his ways. After he succeeded in killing Locksley, he could see that no matter what he did, she would never forgive him or trust him. Without neither of those elements, there could never be love. As some days passed after Locksley's death, he realized as he observed her that he never truly won. Because it was then he knew that the victory was hollow. He went about the notion of marriage at that time for all the wrong reasons. If there was ever such a thing as real love, he wanted to taste it, even if only briefly. He became more and more aware of that fact every time he looked into Marian's eyes and saw only revulsion reflected back to him from hers. He was such a different man now. He suddenly realized that if the order of things had been somehow changed, if they'd met in another time, it could be Marian who would be his wife. He shook his head to bring himself back to reality.
Rhiannon murmured in her sleep. Her face was so serene. He had been more open with her about himself the night before, than anyone in his life, besides Guy. Yet she offered nothing more of herself. What secrets did this beautiful lady harbour? Lady Rhiannon of the North - the bride he would barter his very soul for.
The following afternoon the Sheriff and Lady Rhiannon passed through the gates and entered into Nottingham Castle. He escorted to her to his private chambers, insisting she be examined by Lady Margaret at once. She finally relented.
"I will send for Lady Margaret, my lady. You remain here for now. I need to speak to my cousin and I shall send for you in a little while."
"Very well, my Lord." She sighed.
"Promise me you won't try anything foolish, like disappear again."
She looked away from his gaze.
"Rhiannon." He commanded.
She looked up and forced herself to meet his eyes. "Yes. You have my word, my Lord."
He smiled from the threshold and then exited. She looked toward the doorway, following his shadow until it vanished. He was acting peculiarly. What was going on with him? In many ways the time they spent the last few days were the best of her life. Yet, some of the things he said puzzled her. She never thought that the Sheriff of Nottingham would be so eager to plan his wedding. She'd heard a little about him before she met him, she'd never been able to identify him until Rebeccah pointed him out. Yet he was known as the consummate bachelor. And now, she knew he'd want to talk with her about their marriage plans now that they'd returned. Why was he so eager to move this along so quickly?
She thought a moment, then remembered the words he spoke the night before the discussion about their wedding. He was talking about children that night. Was he pushing her into marriage because he wanted a child? Was that the reason for his intimacy? He wanted her to conceive? And even more curiously, why was it the mere thought of it was giving her an empty feeling deep in her belly, and an odd ache in her breasts?
The Sheriff found Guy in the Council Quarters going over notes written by the Scribe at the Town Council Meeting held in the Sheriff's absence. Guy looked up from the unrolled parchment on the table before him, when he heard the creaking of the door as it opened announcing he had company.
"Cousin!" Guy exclaimed as he arose from the chair. "You've returned at last."
"Good day, cousin." The Sheriff said as he walked toward him. "What news awaits?"
"The prisoner is in isolation in the dungeon. Restrained and untouched as you instructed. And you can thank the young guard, Hector, that the murderous bastard is still available for you to dispose of."
"Duly noted. I shall reward him for his obedience." The Sheriff commented then added "Who was it who nearly disobeyed my order?"
"It was I, cousin. After the poisonous words he spoke regarding Meridwyn."
The Sheriff took in a breath. "Then you're forgiven. I can only imagine what he would say to me about Rhiannon given half the chance. I should want to kill him on the spot too if he tried that game with me."
"He knew her, George."
"What? That insect knows Lady Meridwyn? How?!"
"He claims…" Guy stopped for a moment to shut his eyes and take a deep breath. It was difficult to say the words. The Sheriff looked at him curiously.
"Continue cousin." He encouraged.
"He claims that Meridwyn used to be his lady!" Guy cried out bringing his fist down on the table to punctuate it. "Have you ever heard of such lunacy?"
"Well - no. But I've never dealt with a mass murderer before either." The Sheriff replied in disgust.
"He knew her name." Guy said softly.
"Relax, Guy. He probably heard my lady address her. He probably knows my lady's name too."
"He never mentions her."
"Well, isn't this curious, cousin? Lead me to him. But, before you do, is there news from Duke Farnsworth?"
"No. Not as yet. I expect we should be hearing something from him soon." Guy said.
"Indeed. He can always be counted on to report all of his findings, no matter how far away he may be on a mission." The Sheriff remarked.
The dungeon was located in the depths below the distal end of the castle that was separated by two additional sets of gates. The Sheriff and Guy proceeded to the area of isolation where the Fallen Knight was being held. Guy excused the guard stationed by the entrance there and they entered in the cell to talk to the prisoner.
The Fallen Knight was chained to the wall inside. His arms suspended above him. His head was down but he raised it when the Sheriff and Guy entered.
"My good Sheriff." The prisoner hissed as he took in the sight of his enemy. "You've returned. So, are we going to negotiate my last wish then?"
The Sheriff rolled his eyes and glanced at Guy before responding. Guy's expression affirmed he agreed the man was a raging lunatic. The Sheriff grinned knowingly at Guy, then advanced toward the prisoner, grabbed him by the edges of his ragged collar and barked: "You shall be granted nothing!"
"Then unchain me and get on with it." The Fallen Knight challenged him, unblinking.
The Sheriff cast a malevolent grin upon him and replied, "What's the matter, Knight?" he hooked the first two fingers of both hands in the air around the last word. "Are your arms getting tired?" He leaned in close and whispered gruffly. "You die when I say you die."
"If you're not here to kill me, my good Sheriff, what do you want with me now?"
"To continue the interrogation proceedings." The Sheriff replied.
The prisoner laughed.
"State your name!" Guy barked.
"Not yet." The prisoner hissed. He looked over at the Sheriff and added: "All in due time."
"How do you know the Deputy's lady?" the Sheriff asked, his face up close to the prisoner. The Fallen Knight suddenly recalled the time he was captured three years ago. The Sheriff's face was this close to him then when he negotiated a deal with him. This time was different. The last time he felt fear. This time he felt nothing. The Fallen Knight ignored the Sheriff and looked over at Guy.
"Have you come to learn more from me? How is she anyway? Your darling lady"
"Cousin, what is this nonsense he's babbling about?" The Sheriff demanded.
"Why, he didn't tell you then?" the prisoner said. "Permit me to elaborate. Lady Meridwyn used to be mine. Alas, she was my lady - before you ruined me, that is."
"You're lying!" the Sheriff bellowed.
"I cannot change what is fact." The prisoner began. He paused then added "Well? Aren't you going to ask me?"
"Ask you what?" the Sheriff went along with the tedious question, bored by the entire process thus far.
"What I know about your lady."
"You know nothing of her!" the Sheriff bellowed.
"If that's what you want to believe." The prisoner taunted.
"He's attempting to try your patience, my Lord." Guy interjected. "Pay him no heed."
The Sheriff ignored Guy and grabbed the prisoner again by the collar. "Explain yourself - knight!" he commanded.
"Let's just say that…" he drew the words out slowly as the Sheriff fixed his steely gaze upon him. "Your innocent little lady and I grew to know each other quite…." He stopped a moment to take in the Sheriff's intent gaze then added: "intimately."
The Sheriff reacted by swiftly whacking the prisoner along the side of his head.
"Liar!" he shouted.
"It's true." The prisoner contended. "Now. I wonder? I'm sure it is indeed yours, good Sheriff, but just think of it: no matter that child's paternity… either way it's the child of a murderer."
"Enough!" the Sheriff barked.
"What did you do with the child?" Guy interrupted them, attempting to divert the topic. "Where did you leave the child?"
"Somewhere north." The prisoner answered vaguely.
"Well, cousin." The Sheriff began as he turned toward Guy. "This has been an utter waste of time."
"She's really rather exquisite, isn't she Sheriff?" the prisoner spoke up. The Sheriff looked at him with his left eyebrow raised. "Your innocent little lady." The prisoner added.
"Guard!" the Sheriff barked. His request was met immediately. The guard appeared suddenly, ready for his command.
"Twenty five lashes to this prisoner!" the Sheriff ordered. The Guard nodded. The Sheriff looked over again at the prisoner.
"We'll be back tomorrow to continue our little chat." He ran his gloved hand along the raw side of the prisoners face and added: "Sleep tight." He grinned.
When they had exited the dungeon, on their way back to the main section of the south wing, the Sheriff couldn't hide his agitation.
"Damn that murderous, lying little insect! Did you hear that, cousin? He expects me to believe he took liberties with Lady Rhiannon!" he spat.
"He's lying, my Lord."
"Well he had better be!" the Sheriff spat. "Or I shall order him be drawn and quartered in the village square, then hung on the castle walls by his own entrails!"
"Indeed." Guy agreed. "He hasn't admitted to touching Meridwyn yet. Though I'm sure he'll be happy to mention it when queried."
"Peculiar how he seems to know so much about both your lady and mine, isn't it?" the Sheriff continued.
"He's not going to reveal it." Guy remarked.
"What?"
"The location of your child."
"If it's indeed mine." The Sheriff mentioned quietly off the cuff.
"Of course it's yours. But he'll never tell us. What are you waiting for? Kill him!" Guy urged.
"What was it the little insect said, Guy? All in due time." The Sheriff mused as he stopped then in his tracks. "He will die, cousin. Have no fear about that. But I plan to make his remaining days completely and utterly – miserable." A beat. "It's the very least I can do." He grinned.
