An hour later, Lady Margaret was discussing Rhiannon's condition with the Sheriff.
"The infection has returned." The midwife stated. "It's not uncommon. But I will need to bleed her again."
"Very well. Is she going to be in a lengthy slumber again?"
"It's difficult to predict. She was much more weakened the last time this happened so I suspect she won't be down as long as before. But I will need to begin."
"Yes. Do it. Where is Mortianna?" The Sheriff asked impatiently.
"She's with your lady. She'll be tending to her while I gather the necessary supplies."
The Sheriff nodded while Lady Margaret took her leave. He was still in shock over how quickly her illness came upon her. It worried him. He ventured through the doors leading into the private chambers and leaned against the door frame with his arms folded as he looked to his lady. A great look of concern was spreading across his face.
Mortianna caught sight of him standing there. He nodded for her to take leave and she obeyed. He slowly walked toward the bed and sat beside Lady Rhiannon. He bent down closer to her face.
"You must not leave me." He whispered. He gazed upon her and his mind began to wander. In a world full of chaos, she was his anchor. He knew he didn't deserve to have his wish granted but he clung to it anyway.
His own mother died when he was a year old. He didn't want his child to grow up without a mother. The Sheriff suddenly realized that he was beginning to think himself in terms of a father rather easily, and was momentarily stunned by the admission. He didn't know how to be a father. There was nobody to look to for guidance. He hoped he would figure it out.
He could offer her anything her heart desired. But when she was ill like this, he was powerless. It seemed he and Guy were cursed. Both powerless to stop their ladies from meeting danger. Were they paying for their old ways? It was too late to stop now. Suddenly he realized if the infant were nearby it may serve to bring her out of her slumber. As much as he feared her reaction to discovering he knew about it, he realized his greatest fear was losing her.
"Cousin?" The sound of Guy's voice interrupted his thoughts. The Sheriff turned toward the doorway. Guy was standing there. He arose and went to the door to greet him.
"Did you get my message regarding the need of a new jailer?"
"Yes. I've been rather preoccupied since, however." The Sheriff replied. Just then Lady Margaret appeared carrying her sac of implements accompanied by Mortianna. Mortianna held a large basin in her arms which had a section cut out of it to accommodate one's arm during the bleeding procedure.
"Excuse us." Lady Margaret commented as they brushed past Guy.
"What is going on?" Guy asked.
"I'll tell you what's going on." The Sheriff began as he put his hand on Guy's back and lead him to a corner in the den outside of the chambers where they wouldn't be heard. Guy peered over toward the private chambers and saw the witch and the midwife busily tending to Lady Rhiannon.
"What's going on," the Sheriff continued "Is that we are cursed!" the Sheriff spat.
"Pardon?" Guy asked, bewildered.
"Oh come on, Guy. Wake up!" the Sheriff exclaimed. "Do you not find it curious that the most bizarre events keep happening that are continually putting our ladies in danger?"
"I'm not sure I'm following." Guy said.
"All our lives we never cared for anyone but ourselves. Now that we do, look what's happening!"
"What exactly is happening?" Guy asked tentatively.
"Your lady is unwell. Still very weakened. And mind…well, I'm right back to where we started weeks ago. The infection returned. Alas, she has fallen into that insufferable slumber again. Curses!" The Sheriff cried out.
"You can't honestly believe we're cursed, cousin." Guy said. "You don't know what you're saying right now!"
"I know exactly what I'm saying!" the Sheriff growled. "It's her. I know it must be that rotten impertinent little wench!" The Sheriff snarled.
"Who?"
"Hestia. The sister who ought to be dead!" The Sheriff hissed.
"That's preposterous!" Guy exclaimed.
"No. Indeed it is a fact." The Sheriff countered.
Guy stared at him. He knew what the Sheriff was getting at.
"Are you reading me?" the Sheriff asked.
"Like a book." Guy replied.
"Good." The Sheriff said. "Our jailer is not the priority. The prisoner is secured in the dungeon. The matters of the dungeon can wait. As soon as you can do it, start shadowing her."
"It will be done." Guy said.
They heard footsteps and looked toward the private chambers. Mortianna was coming toward the doors between the two chambers. In the distance, Lady Margaret appeared to be commencing the procedure. Mortianna grasped the two doors and was beginning to close them when the Sheriff spoke.
"No." he called to Mortianna and began to walk in her direction. "I will not have my lady shut out of my sight!"
"She should have quiet." Mortianna advised.
"I want to know what is going on with her at all times. You will leave the doors open." He commanded.
"As you wish, my Lord." Mortianna said.
The Sheriff nodded as Mortianna turned and went back to assist Lady Margaret. He stood there a moment and looked upon his lady. He wished to go back in time. To yesterday, when she seemed perfectly fine. He never would've believed this would happen to her again. Without warning. After last night, he never would've guessed. She was full of energy then. Last night, she gave to him her body and soul, and now she was lying there helpless. He shook his head. That cursed woman, Hestia! She said she'd be in touch. Hecate must have shown her some things.
"Cousin?" Guy said. He was suddenly behind him. The Sheriff turned around.
"What happened?" Guy nodded toward Lady Rhiannon. The Sheriff could sense he was genuinely concerned. The Sheriff could tell Guy anything.
"Come, let's have a drink." The Sheriff said. He moved toward the silver decanter containing his favourite brandy.
"A little early yet, isn't it cousin?" Guy asked as the Sheriff poured out two portions.
"No. These days it's never to early." The Sheriff took a sip from his goblet. "It's all very bizarre, Guy. Last night my lady seemed in perfect health, she was the lady of my dreams." He looked down at his brandy, gazing into the dark amber depths, remembering the taste of her. Her seductive look. And the clever thing she did with her tongue recently. He smiled. He took a large gulp of the tincture of rapture for courage before he spoke again, then he added
"Tell me, Guy. Has she ever done anything to you with her tongue that completely surprised you?"
"What?" Guy asked in confusion. He was beginning to think his better course of action would be to remain at the castle today and watch over the Sheriff. The man was not right. Indeed – he was beside himself!
"Work with me, Guy. Must I spell it out for you? Here, have some brandy." He handed the goblet to Guy, realizing he was remiss in doing so before. Guy maintained his bewildered expression and drew a sip of the brandy.
"When you and Lady Meridwyn are…intimate, has she ever startled you by using her tongue in rather clever ways?" The Sheriff asked with a sly grin.
Guy chuckled. "Well, no. But I think I know what you're getting at." He paused then added with a smile. "How fortunate for you."
"Yes, indeed." The Sheriff smiled. He took another sip from the goblet. "She is more than I ever dreamed of. Yet, she is in the throngs of a curse. Everything, Guy, I'm sure of it – it is all part of some twisted curse. Against me! I wouldn't be surprised to learn that loathed woman, Hestia knows our prisoner somehow!" The Sheriff growled.
"A lof of these matters could just be coincidence, George." Guy pointed out.
"No. This is far more than coincidence. There are too many elements to it that leave a bad taste in my mouth. Even this business with my jailer, Hector." He said in disgust.
"His father is dying, my Lord. Of course he had to take leave. That could not be helped – it was a matter beyond anyone's control." Guy said, attempting to reason with the Sheriff.
"There's something about even that, that does not sit right with me." The Sheriff began. "I don't know why, I just know that I have a bad feeling about it. Gut instinct, Guy. Mine is always right. You should get one."
"Indeed." Guy replied. His eyes downcast.
"It has served me well in many matters. And if you're going to be a husband to the lady of your dreams, that it is the most useful tool to possess." The Sheriff said.
"And if you're going to be a father." Guy added.
"Indeed."
"Shall I check on things in the dungeon before I venture out?" Guy asked.
"No. I'll deal with that later. I'm going to remain here for awhile. They are bleeding her at the moment. I want to make sure she suffers no ill effects from it. She was so weakened this morning. In fact, she was unresponsive."
"Of course." Guy said. "So, this thing came on rather suddenly with Lady Rhiannon?"
"When I fell asleep her glorious body was pressed next to mine. Everything was perfect. She had just given herself to me. She was radiant. When I awakened, she was pale as a whisper, and limp. Just as you saw her weeks ago when we found her in that abandoned castle." The Sheriff drew in a heavy sigh. "I thought that was all behind us."
"It will be." Guy reassured.
"If I have anything to say about it, you're right about that." The Sheriff said. They heard footsteps approaching from the door leading into the den from the corridor outside. Meridwyn stood there, rather pale, yet looking lovely in a pale orange gown.
"My love!" Guy exclaimed as he walked toward her. "You should be resting." He admonished.
"I'm tired of resting." Meridwyn said.
"What are you doing here?" Guy asked her.
"Mortianna brought me a breakfast tray. Lady Margaret came to fetch her for assistance. I couldn't help but overhear." She looked at the Sheriff and went toward him.
"Lady Rhiannon…what is going on? What can I do to help?" She asked.
"She has fallen ill again, like before." He said. "They're tending to her right now." He gestured toward the private chambers.
"Is she awake?" Meridwyn asked.
"No." The Sheriff shook his head and looked downcast.
"How has this happened?"
"Long story." The Sheriff replied. He looked to Guy. Guy smiled and nodded.
"May I see her for a few moments?"
The Sheriff nodded. Meridwyn smiled and looked over at Guy.
"Rest as much as you can today, my love." Guy said. "I must take care of something in the village. I will return later." He kissed her cheek. Meridwyn smiled then went into the private chambers.
"Don't worry, cousin. I will personally accompany Lady Meridwyn back to your quarters." The Sheriff said. He cleared his throat. "I will see her to the door."
"Thank you, cousin."
"When you return, I want a full report." The Sheriff instructed.
"Indeed." Guy said before he turned to leave.
__________________________________________________________________________________________
The woman brushed her strawberry blond tendrils out of her face as she tended to the herbs in her garden on the north side of her manor. She smiled. She knew there was a good chance her sister was dead. It was years since her disappearance. She looked up. The sky was clouded over but occasionally the sun would peer out from behind the veils of white, so intense it almost blinded her. She cultivated some of her precious harvest. Herbs she used not only in culinary dishes but for potions as well. Like her sister, Hestia dabbled in witchcraft. She had to practice in secret. She was careful to keep that part of herself hidden. For if anyone knew, she would burn for it.
She knew she was taking a chance venturing to Nottingham Castle. The Sheriff moved in the same circles as Bishop Hereford. Bishop Hereford was Hestia's greatest fear. For if the Bishop found out that Hestia practiced witchcraft, he would be the one who would have the power to order her burned at the stake. But she couldn't help herself. She had been waiting too long already. And she left it too late. For now, it seemed the Sheriff had a lady he loved. She should've made her move long before this. But she found a way to get to him. He would come around. She was forced to make it difficult for him in order to get his attention, but she was confident that in time he would react to her more kindly than in their initial meeting. Hestia smiled. The Sheriff had been invading her thoughts for a long time. Even before Hecate's disappearance. And once she worked out the problems with the particular variety of potion she was trying to perfect, when she mastered that – he'd be right where she wanted him to be. Eating out of her hand.
The sunlight peeked out again and glinted on her long silver chain. She forgot it was not tucked into her gown. A pentagram medallion dangled upon it. She tucked it into her bodice. Unaware that the Sheriff's Lieutenant, Sir Guy of Gisborne, was positioned amidst the trees on his horse nearby, watching her.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________
"I don't understand it." Meridwyn said as she walked with the Sheriff. She held onto his arm to steady her. "She seemed fine. She was content. She was speaking of your wedding."
"She was?" the Sheriff asked. He smiled.
"Yes. She asked me to stand up with her. As her witness."
"Yes, she did mention that." The Sheriff said.
"How did this happen?" Meridwyn cried.
"I don't know. But I will see to it she has the best care."
"Of course." Meridwyn said quietly as they continued to walk. They remained silent the rest of the way until they stopped at the door to Guy's chambers. Meridwyn looked up at the Sheriff.
"She really cares for you."
The Sheriff smiled. Meridwyn continued. "I never pictured you with a lady. For any quantity of time greater than a fortnight, I mean. But now, I cannot picture you and Lady Rhiannon apart from one another."
"It's funny you say that. That is exactly how I feel about it." The Sheriff said.
"She is strong. And she is in love. So, she shall fight." Meridwyn said.
"I hope you're right." The Sheriff replied.
"Trust me. Rhiannon wouldn't want to miss anything. She will be up before you know it." Meridwyn reassured.
The Sheriff smiled as she nodded at him, before she let herself into the chambers.
___________________________________________________________________________
Later that day the Sheriff was entering the dungeon. He approached the same guard he spoke to the day before about keeping watch over Hector.
"How are things with our prisoner?" the Sheriff asked him.
"Quite well. He is quiet and cooperative today." The young guard replied.
"How peculiar." The Sheriff remarked.
"Not really, my Lord. The prisoners weaken over time. We find that after a few days of being held here, that they easily bend to our will."
"Is that so?" the Sheriff challenged.
"Yes, my Lord. They are often quiet at this point in time."
"I find it hard to believe that man would be at a loss for words."
"See for yourself." The guard replied.
The Sheriff nodded for the guard to accompany him and they went to the door leading into the prisoner's cell. The guard unlocked it and they entered in. The prisoner was still suspended in chains. This time he was wearing his hood. His head was bent down as if he didn't hear them come in.
"What's this, Knight?" the Sheriff growled as he advanced closer. "You're not going to acknowledge me?"
The prisoner looked up. His blue eyes peered through the small cutouts of the hood at the Sheriff. He mumbled an inarticulate phrase.
"What's that?" the Sheriff taunted. "Did someone get a hold of my tongue snippers and not tell me?"
The prisoner only moaned an attempted reply.
"You're awfully quiet, Knight." The Sheriff hissed, his left eyebrow raised suspiciously. "What? No clever remarks? No boorish riddles? Well, let me tell you something!" He snarled as he inched closer to the prisoner. "You are more tiresome to me now! But…" He grabbed the prisoner's collar. "Don't think just because you're quiet and cooperative that I'm going to make it easy on you. I'm already onto this new game of yours."
The prisoner nodded. The Sheriff looked at him curiously.
"So you have nothing to say to me?" The Sheriff asked again.
The prisoner shook his head in reply. The Sheriff let go of him in disgust. "That's fine, guard." The Sheriff said as he looked to the guard beside him. "I'm finished here."
The prisoner mumbled an inaudible response. The Sheriff turned toward him.
"Whatever! I'll deal with you later. Perhaps you'll be able to speak in articulate phrases next time!" The Sheriff huffed.
The prisoner sighed as the Sheriff left. He'd escaped…this time. He didn't know whether it was better to talk or to mumble. There was nothing he could do about it anyway. The Sheriff was satisfied to end this meeting, but he knew the day coming. He knew he would die at the hands of the Sheriff of Nottingham. The only question remaining was when?
_____________________________________________________________________________________________
When the Sheriff approached his private chambers, he found Guy standing there outside of the door waiting for him.
"She's a witch." Guy announced.
"You mean Lady Hestia?" The Sheriff asked.
"Indeed."
"Come." The Sheriff said, as he lead Guy into his other quarters across the hall from the private chambers. It would be more private in there. Once they were inside, Guy continued.
"I found her outside of her manor today. She looked to be gardening."
"Oh, I'm sure. I'm sure she grows her own ingredients for her poisonous mixtures." The Sheriff remarked sarcastically.
"I waited for a time, then peered through the windows once she was inside. I saw her remove a chain from around her neck. Then she unbuttoned her gown and walked toward another room. I snuck inside." Guy said.
"A risky move." The Sheriff commented.
"Yes. I could hear water splashing. I believed she was bathing. So I took a quick look around. There was an altar there, candles, jars of several varieties of powders, a small double edged dagger, and this." He dangled a silver chain from his hand that gleamed in the light. A large silver pentagram hung on the end of it.
"A pentagram." The Sheriff said. "Mark of the witch. Well, well, well. What a surprise."
"This changes everything, cousin." Guy exclaimed. "All we must do now, is tell the Bishop. You must show this to Bishop Hereford!"
"I cannot do that!" The Sheriff said angrily. "Think about it! Everyone in this town has by now figured out that Mortianna, my counsel – is a witch. How can I then support the Bishop, which I must do, to sentence another witch to burn at the stake?"
"Mortianna is protected." Guy said. "She works for you."
"No." The Sheriff shook his head. "The people will protest. I don't want another repeat of the village square in ninety four when the townspeople went completely mad and formed a revolt." He sighed. "Useful information, Guy. There's no doubt about that. But her fate lies in our hands. It will be done quickly and privately. Nobody shall know but us."
"Indeed." Guy relented.
"Keep watching her." The Sheriff instructed. "And while you do that, I'll bide my time with other things until the time comes to end her miserable existence."
