Sometime later that evening after Lady Rhiannon had rested, and the Sheriff was meeting with some of his staff, she sent the Scribe with a message to give to Sir Guy of Gisborne. The message was a request for permission to visit Lady Meridwyn. Guy agreed. And now, Rhiannon was in Sir Guy's private chambers to briefly visit with her friend.
Mortianna was still tending to Lady Meridwyn at the bedside, proving her loyalty to the Sheriff and to Guy. She never seemed to leave her side, as no doubt she did once for Rhiannon. Lady Rhiannon approached her and placed her hand gently upon the witch's weary shoulder.
"Mortianna, why don't you let me take over for a spell?" She knew the Sheriff would be coming for her soon. Her time with Meridwyn would be short.
"Thank you, my child." Mortianna was relieved. "I shall return shortly." She said as she headed to the door. Grateful for a moment to sit quietly alone, and sip a cup of freshly brewed batwing tea.
Rhiannon turned back toward Meridwyn. She took the sponge from the basin on the nightstand at the left of the bed, and began to gently sponge Lady Meridwyn's forehead.
"So much news to share, my friend." Rhiannon said, as she seated herself upon the bed beside her. "Today my lover bestowed a treasured gift upon me – his mother's ring, as his engagement gift. I do wish you could see it. You are missing so much. And Guy, he loves you so…" her words trailed off in tender emotion.
The Sheriff and Guy approached the doorway just then. They entered the room quietly, behind where Rhiannon was seated on the bed bedside Lady Meridwyn. Rhiannon was unaware of their presence in the chambers.
"The Sheriff wants for us to marry soon. I long to speak with you. I want you to be at my wedding, Meridwyn. It's supposed to be the happiest day of my life. And I am happy, my friend. But I would be even more elated if you were there with me, sharing in such a glorious event." She mindlessly dipped the sponge in the basin beside her and continued her task.
"Where is Mortianna?" Guy whispered to the Sheriff as they stood motionless near the threshold.
"My lady probably sent her away. She has a mind of her own you know." The Sheriff winked.
"Yes. Indeed." Guy agreed.
"Meridwyn, you have much to live for." Rhiannon continued, startling the two men with the sound of her voice. They cast their glances back toward the bed.
"Everyone longs for your recovery. Guy needs you, my friend. I need you." She paused a moment. "I miss you. There's so much I wish to share with you." She stopped what she was doing a moment, then leaned in closer. "You are in the Castle now. You are safe. It is safe to wake up now, Meridwyn! She threw the sponge in the basin, it knocked the bowl and its' contents to the floor, startling Guy and the Sheriff. "Please wake up, Meridwyn!" she cried. "You're not being funny anymore. Why won't you listen to me?!"
"My lady…" the Sheriff called after her. Rhiannon turned around.
"Oh." She said, and stood beside the bed to greet them.
"Forgive me." She said. "I did not know we had company."
"Lady Rhiannon, where is Mortianna?" Guy inquired.
"She has been tending to Meridwyn incessantly. I offered to relieve her for a spell. She shall be returning here shortly to recommence her duties." Rhiannon replied.
"Is there any change?" Guy asked as he approached the bed, then took his place on the bed beside his lady.
"No." She replied quietly, her eyes downcast.
"Come, my love. It is getting late." The Sheriff said.
"Indeed." She replied as she went toward him. Then she turned back to face Guy.
"Sir Guy. If she should awaken, could you send word to us? It would make me feel better."
"Of course." Guy said.
It was a bit of a jaunt to the Sheriff's private chambers. His chambers and Guy's were located on opposite wings of the vast castle. As the Sheriff and Lady Rhiannon walked north, together along the endless darkened corridors, the Sheriff turned to speak to Rhiannon.
"My lady, you must be exhausted. You've endured so much these last few days."
"I am a little." She said as she leaned into him. She was not going to make this easy.
"I'm worried about her, my Lord." She continued. "But being with you brings me such comfort." She sighed.
Oh, Rhiannon. He thought. Why must you be so damn irresistible?
A short time later they were in the den just outside of the Sheriff's private chambers. Rhiannon broke free from the Sheriff's arm, and went toward the table by the fire. She took the silver decanter placed there in the centre upon a tray, and filled a goblet with the brandy from the decanter. His favourite year. The tincture of rapture he called it, made by the Benedictine Monks three years prior in celebration of the murder of Locksley. She handed it to him. He took the cup from her, touching her hand with his.
"What are you doing?" he asked curiously.
"Making you comfortable. While I make myself comfortable." She said.
He looked at her with his eyebrow raised. She felt her body respond, as she always did whenever he executed that mindless, yet sensual expression.
"Sit." She said. "Relax. I shall return in a moment." Then she proceeded into the chambers.
The Sheriff took a seat upon the velvet couch in front of the fire, quietly sipping his brandy. Wondering what on earth his lady was up to now? He could only imagine. She was never short on surprises. He suddenly thought of the night just recently when she completely surprised him by demonstrating a brand new move on him, involving clever use of her mouth and her tongue. He stood up and took another large gulp of the tincture of rapture. This was insane! He had to stop thinking lustful thoughts if he would be successful in seeing his plan through.
He heard the doors of his private chambers open and turned to his right to look. Rhiannon stood there in a floor length burgundy velvet dressing gown. It appeared she was wearing nothing beneath it. It wrapped around her, hugging her perfectly curved body and tied with a satin sash, but it was open very low on her décolleté. Her breasts peaked there, teasing him to take note. To come to her. He took note. He swallowed. He could feel himself grow hard at the sight of her.
"Rhiannon…" He said in a low raw voice.
She walked slowly toward him. "My love, come to bed." She said, and she slowly cast that sensual sideways glance at him with her sexy green eyes. He would go crazy if he lingered too long in her presence.
"You are beautiful, my lady." He whispered as she continued toward him, until she was inches from him, when her scent was unmistakable.
He put his arms around her and drew her in close, kissing her hard. Hungrily tasting her lips, her tongue. She reveled in his touch. He picked her up then, and carried her into the bed chamber and placed her upon the four poster bed. He sat down beside her.
"What are you doing, my love? Don't you want to undress?" she asked, smiling.
"No." he replied quietly.
Rhiannon sat up and looked at him questioningly. "Why? Will you not be staying here tonight?"
"Yes. I thought it best if I stayed in the guest quarters. The room is directly across the hall." He said, his eyes downcast.
"My lord, but why now?"
"It would be better for you if we didn't share a bed until we are wed. My guards…" he was cut off.
"Guards? What does it matter what they think? You were the one who told me that. What difference does it make now, George? Everyone knows we are together."
"Indeed. But now…"
"But now, what?" she asked curtly.
"Now you are to be my wife." He said.
"I see. So it's perfectly acceptable for an unfamiliar maiden to be found in your bed, as I once was, but not to be found with the woman you're engaged to?"
"You do not understand." He began, but he had a funny feeling his point was moot in her eyes.
"It's perfectly fine to be the Sheriff's Mistress." She continued in her seething diatribe. "But God help us if the Sheriff's betrothed wishes to spend a night with him." Rhiannon said. She arose from the bed and pushed past him, pulling the edges of her dressing gown closer together. "Oh yes. I understand perfectly." She said coldly.
"My lady, you misunderstand me." He got up and walked toward her. "I desire you more than you know." He pleaded. His hazel eyes burning for her to understand his meaning. To believe.
"Yet you can control it so easily. So much for burning love. It seems the fire grows dim." She said.
"You couldn't be more wrong, my lady." He replied quietly as he headed toward the doorway.
"I truly hope I am wrong." She said, just before he turned his back on her to exit.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________
Hours later, Guy was startled from his sleep by a soft sound. He was in the chair beside the bed where Meridwyn lay. He straightened up and sat forward. Meridwyn was stirring on the bed. He rushed to the bed, sat beside her and lightly stroked her cheek.
"My love. Meridwyn! I am here." He whispered to her. She responded. She opened her eyes and fixed them upon his.
"Oh, you're awake!" Guy exclaimed.
"Guy?" she murmured softly.
"Yes, my love! It is I." He whispered tenderly.
"But where is?" she looked around the room, slowly taking in her surroundings, uncertain of where she was. "Someone attacked us! Who? Where is Rhiannon? We were traveling along a narrow path during a storm. It was dark. We couldn't see very well through the rain. Then my horse kicked up, that is all I remember." She sat up too quickly and felt her head begin to pound. She put her hand to the back of her head and fell back upon the soft down pillow.
"It was him. The man we were after. We captured him. He is in the Sheriff's dungeon presently. Lady Rhiannon is with the Sheriff, likely in his private chambers. We are at the castle, my dearest."
Lady Meridwyn smiled. "You found me." She said.
"No, my lady. You found me." He pulled her necklace from his pocket.
"My locket! Where did you get it?" she exclaimed.
"You had lost it. It was broken. I had the goldsmith repair it for you." He placed it gently about her neck. She picked up the heart shaped medallion and kissed it. It did bring her luck, it brought her Guy. Then she reached around his neck. He leaned in to kiss her.
"We are together, at last." She murmured.
Guy sat up abruptly. "I must send word to Lady Rhiannon." He announced.
"Rhiannon? Whatever for?" Meridwyn asked.
"She asked to be notified the minute you awakened. She is quite concerned for you."
"No. Absolutely not. Not now, Guy. I forbid it."
"What?" he asked, rather surprised by her response.
"Do you have any idea the whining I endured? She is quite taken with your cousin, my love. He is all I ever heard about for weeks! And now, you're telling me that she is with the Sheriff, alone, in his private chambers?"
"Yes, but…" he was cut off.
"Leave her alone." Meridwyn advised. "Give her this night with her lover. I dare say, she loves him as much I do you."
Guy smiled.
"Alright. But first thing in the morning I send for her. And – Thomas Crumwell."
"Who is he?" Meridwyn asked.
"The physician in charge of your care. The Sheriff's personal physician." Guy replied.
"Oh, alright if you must. But for right now, do not leave me?" she pleaded with her blue eyes. They suddenly danced with familiar spark and light.
"No, my love. Never. You are the world to me." Guy said as he kissed her, and stretched out upon the bed beside her.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________
The Sheriff was unable to sleep. He'd been tossing and thrashing about in his bed for what seemed to be hours since he left his private chambers. He got up and threw on his quilted black silk cloak. It was trimmed in fur and embellished in shiny gold and blue threads with a small train that gave him a very regal air. Underneath he wore only his black trousers. He crept out of his quarters and across the hall, to the den which lead into his private chambers.
Inside the bed chamber a candle burned on a table near the window. It cast a soft glow about the room, and upon his Lady's silken skin upon his bed. Rhiannon lay on the bed sleeping. She appeared naked beneath the navy silk sheets. He took a breath and advanced closer. He stopped suddenly when she began to moan in her sleep. She was remembering…
"Meridwyn!" she cried softly. "Get away from us! Leave her alone!"
He walked slowly, closer toward the bed. He knelt down beside it. When he was inches away from her, her eyes flew open, startling him.
"My Lord!" she cried.
"Rhiannon…" he said.
She surprised him by slapping the right side of his face.
The Sheriff felt the sting from her touch, but not in his cheek. As she raised her right hand again to him, he quickly grabbed it with his left hand, then covered her mouth with his right and whispered gruffly: "Control yourself, Rhiannon. This is not a game."
She roughly pulled his hand away from her mouth using her available left hand. "Really?" she answered with her eyebrow raised. Her green eyes danced in anger, and fiery passion. He was stirred. "Then what is it then?" she demanded.
He responded immediately, suddenly upon her, devouring her with his lips.
"My Lord?" she managed to whisper, as she attempted to push him away. "You confuse me…" she said breathlessly.
"You excite me." He whispered as he continued to tease her.
"Not long ago, you refused me." She pointed out.
"Yes, I know. I was a fool. I cannot sleep. I crave you, my lady." He said as he pulled the soft silky linens down to the level of her waist. Hmm….what was Plan B again?
"Does this mean we're not getting married." She asked, as he teased her breasts with his tongue.
"What?" he shot his head up to look at her. "No!" he replied impatiently. He needed her – now!
"Then you had better make a half ways honest woman of me, George, Sheriff of Nottingham." She smirked as she pulled the linens back up to cover her breasts.
"No." He whispered gruffly. "You shall be mine." And with that he quickly tossed the bed linens aside, exposing her momentarily until he covered her with his body. Hungrily tasting her and exploring her. Pleasing her until her virtue was dethroned at dawn.
In the early morning hours the Sheriff heard a knock on the door leading into the den outside of his private chambers. He arose and quickly dressed in his robe and his trousers. The Scribe stood outside the door of the den.
"What do you want?" the Sheriff asked, obviously irritated by the intrusion.
"A message from Sir Guy, Sire. Lady Meridwyn has awakened. He said you wished to be informed."
"Indeed." The Sheriff said. The corners of his mouth slowly upturned, spreading a knowing grin upon his face. Welcome Plan B! He cleared his throat and altered his expression, looking back upon his Scribe.
"Tell my cousin my lady and I will be by in an hour or so. She has not yet awakened."
"Yes, Sire." The Scribe turned to go.
"Wait." The Sheriff commanded as he grabbed his arm. "Have the kitchen send up a tray. Make sure there is fresh squeezed juice."
"Yes, Sire." The Scribe replied with a sigh, trying to conceal his impatience. "Anything else?"
"Indeed. When you speak to my cousin, tell him to prepare for another interrogation meeting in the dungeon." The Sheriff directed.
"Very well." He nodded. The Sheriff nodded a reply and closed the door. He went back in to the private chambers.
Lady Rhiannon was in repose lying on her right side facing the door where he stood, which connected the private chambers from the den. Her arms were hugging her pillow. The navy silk linens were only at the level of her waist. He sighed. She opened her eyes. At the sight of him standing there, realizing he was watching her, she sat up and pulled the sheets close around her to cover her.
The Sheriff came toward her and sat on the bed.
"It is a good morning, my angel. I have news." He smiled at her as he caressed her shoulder.
"Yes? What news, my Lord?"
"Lady Meridwyn has awakened. I've just been told the news."
"What?" she shrieked in glee and threw her arms around him to kiss his cheek. She was suddenly aware she was exposed and reached for the silk bed linens.
"No." He said as he took her hand. "You are beautiful, my lady. Such beauty deserves an audience. As long as it is only my eyes that are beholden to it."
She smiled. "Indeed, my love. But I must dress. I must get to her."
"We have some time, yet, my lady." He stated.
She sighed and laid back down upon the bed, hugging her silken pillow about her.
"It pleases me to see you content, Rhiannon." The Sheriff observed with a smile as he lay on his side beside her.
"I am. Meridwyn is going to recover. She will be able to attend our wedding." She said with a smile, clutching her pillow and looking up toward the ceiling.
"Indeed." The Sheriff agreed with a knowing grin. Fortunately she didn't notice. Funny how Plan B materialized with none of his doing? This would motivate his lady toward the altar. But he would still attempt to restrain himself, the original plan would continue….tonight.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________
The prisoner was wide awake. Acutely and accurately aware of the presence outside of his cell door.
"They are coming to speak to you." Hector announced.
"Indeed. The loathed Sheriff and his puppet, Sir Gisborne, no doubt?" The prisoner stated sarcastically.
"Hold your tongue!" the guard admonished. "I serve the Sheriff of Nottingham. You insult my Master!"
"Yes. I'm sure I do." The prisoner chortled. He sighed. "What news of my hood?"
"I told you I cannot grant you anything of luxury."
"Luxury? You fool!" the prisoner hissed. "Look at my face!" he boldly challenged.
Hector unlocked the door then and marched inside the cell. He stopped when he was close enough to cause the prisoner to squirm with discomfort. Hector grabbed him roughly by the collar.
"You try my patience. I owe you nothing!"
"True." The prisoner agreed. "But…just how well does he treat you?"
"Whom?" Hector asked impatiently.
"Your…master?" the prisoner whispered, drawing the hated words out slowly.
Hector took his hand away from the prisoner and looked away.
"If you could assist me…" the prisoner whispered.
"I will not!" Hector stated.
"You shall be rewarded." The prisoner continued, unfazed by Hector's determined reply. "You are the jailer of this cursed dungeon. Only you can convince him."
The handsome blond blue eyed guard looked at him, momentarily feeling a twinge of pity for the murderer before him. He cast it aside as quickly as it came to him.
"I am not the only jailer. Sometimes my station is at the castle gates." Hector replied weakly.
"I shall be grateful if I could only have my hood."
"I will see if it can be done. In the meantime, I warn you. The Sheriff doesn't suffer fools well…"
"Nor do I!" The prisoner stated, cutting him off.
"You would do well to cooperate in this next meeting with him." He paused to let the prisoner ponder that thought for a moment before he continued. "And then perhaps, your wish may just be granted."
"I see." The prisoner replied. "You're learning. That is good…"
Hector just looked at him with a puzzled stare for a moment. Then he proceeded toward the door. He turned back one more time before he exited.
"Remember what I said. The Sheriff and Sir Guy of Gisborne will be here to see you this day. Don't play games with him. The Sheriff is very clever. He'll see right through you." Hector strongly advised. He could hang for treason. What was he doing? Why did he feel the need to converse with the prisoner? To feed him information? He admonished himself, he was being lead into a lions den. He knew it, yet he couldn't escape. Some unknown power was luring him. He didn't know how or why. Yet either way, he knew he was already dead. And he already had a feeling whose hand would issue his fate...
"Yes." The prisoner murmured as he smiled to himself. For he already had a plan. He was so filled with anticipation as he rehearsed it in his mind during the night – in the roaring cacophony of the dark dank dungeon, he never fell asleep. There was no fun in it after all, unless there were games. Tied up – in this manner, inside of this cursed place, he needed amusement. There would definitely be games.
