Fifteen minutes later the Sheriff stormed into the dungeon. Joseph, the new jailer saw him. He'd prefer to ignore the Sheriff, but Joseph greeted him nonetheless.
"My Lord." Joseph addressed him with a nod.
"Wait until I get my hands on him!" The Sheriff seethed in a fury. "Give me the keys!" He shouted to Joseph.
"Which ones?"
"The key that unlocks our hooded prisoner's cell door." The Sheriff drew the words out slowly. "The traitor's door as it turns out!" He spat.
"I have one." Guy said. He had just arrived and was a few feet behind approaching the Sheriff. The Sheriff turned around when he spoke. "What is going on?"
"You'll find out soon enough." The Sheriff said with a snarl. Then he added "And if I'm right, you're going to like this one." He smirked.
Guy raised his brows and tilted his head curiously. He reached into his pocket and handed the Sheriff the key to the prisoner's cell keeping eye contact with him as he did so. They proceeded to the door. The Sheriff quickly unlocked it and pushed it in so it thudded loudly on the wall, as he did the last time he came. The prisoner looked up. The Sheriff stood there a moment and bore a look of hatred into the blue eyes peering out at him from behind the hood. The Sheriff turned to Guy.
"Take a good look, Guy." The Sheriff began as he pointed to the prisoner. "Things are not always as they seem. You think this is our leperous insect friend. The murderer we know as the Fallen Knight?" The Sheriff said as he moved closer toward the prisoner.
Guy gave him a puzzled look.
"No. It is not. In fact, what we have here, cousin is…" The Sheriff inched in closer to the prisoner. "A traitor! Alas, behold your golden boy!" The Sheriff swiftly removed the hood from the prisoner as he spoke the words, and the face of his former jailer, Hector, emerged as the hood lifted. Guy was astonished. Hector's soft blue eyes widened in terror. He was gagged. The Sheriff ripped the rag from his teeth.
"You traitorous little ferret!" The Sheriff barked. "You dare to assist his escape!"
Hector bent his head down in shame and said nothing. He knew there was nothing to say. He unchained the prisoner, and that was when the prisoner became mad. He proceeded to beat Hector. When Hector awoke, he was suspended in chains, and he realized he was in the dungeon, wearing the prisoner's clothes. He knew then he would hang. Yet he prayed the Sheriff would be forgiving when he finally discovered the truth.
The Sheriff grabbed him by the collar and pulled Hector toward him. "You had better start speaking, boy! The only chance you get is here in this dungeon, because don't think there's going to be a trial!" The Sheriff growled.
"He insisted he needed to place the hood over his head himself." Hector began nervously.
The Sheriff shook his head. "So, once again, you felt pity for him. You had no authority to do it, and yet you freed the prisoner! You let a murderer go free! You fool!" He exclaimed.
"I am sorry." Hector muttered.
"It's no use telling me." The Sheriff said. "But perhaps, you can save it for your speech before you die. You can tell the families of the two maidens who have gone missing because of your moronic actions!" The Sheriff let go of Hector's collar. "If we drag this out long enough, I can arrange for their presence at your execution." The Sheriff stated as he patted Hector's cheek.
"My Lord?!" the young guard pleaded.
"You knew the punishment for betrayal!" The Sheriff hissed. "I bade you warning about aiding the prisoners. You went against me, my rules, and you placed people in danger by doing so. You are charged with treason." The Sheriff said matter of factly.
"What?" Hector cried. "No!"
"Anything you say will be used against you." The Sheriff grinned.
Hector shook his head in defeat. He knew nothing could save him. Not now. When the Sheriff, his former master, was in a state like this, there was no turning back. The Sheriff never backed down from his decisions.
The newly appointed jailer looked to the Sheriff. "What would you like me to do with him, my Lord? He was…one of us once." Joseph added quietly.
"He can remain here. But he may be moved out of isolation. It's not as if we're concerned he'll be a risk to the others. He even felt pity for a murderer." The Sheriff said with his jaw clenched.
"Yes, my Lord."
The Sheriff looked at Joseph and added: "Your position here is henceforth permanent."
The jailer nodded. Then the Sheriff turned to Hector. "And your life is henceforth shortened...dramatically." The Sheriff hissed.
Hector kept his head down but lifted his eyes to meet the Sheriff's, and swallowed.
"Tell him just how short a time he's looking at, Gisborne." The Sheriff said to Guy. He moved away from the prisoner to give Guy his moment.
"Indeed." Guy said coldly, maintaining his gaze upon Hector. "This was your first meeting with us. There will be one more." Guy moved in close to Hector. "And then the only other meeting you shall have before you die, is the one with the Bishop as he offers absolution!" Guy snarled.
Hector hung his head. He'd really rather die in this moment.
"Nothing you can say to me will grant your pardon, though you may try the next time we drop in on you." The Sheriff seethed. "You are the most pathetic excuse for a jailer and a guard I have ever encountered. And I thought the useless one that Locksley knocked over with a sack of loaves was the limit. But you! You even beat his idiocy!" The Sheriff spat.
"It was not my intent…" Hector began. He was cut off.
"Silence!" The Sheriff bellowed as he charged toward him. "I don't want to hear it! Do you hear me? I do not care!" He barked. "I've had enough. I cannot even bear to look at you!" He cried out in a rage and swiftly removed his sword from its' sheath. Then he turned and charged toward the lone chair in the room, and thrashed at it. It was split down the center and fell to either side in two pieces.
"Joseph!" the Sheriff bellowed, still standing there, his back to them.
"Yes, my Lord?" the jailer replied.
"Twently five lashes to this prisoner!" the Sheriff commanded as he pointed in Hector's direction using his sword.
Joseph swallowed. Hector used to be a friend of his. "As you wish, my Lord."
"Oh and Joseph?" the Sheriff turned his head back toward him as he put the sword back into its' sheath.
"Yes?"
The Sheriff spun around to face him. "I don't care that this pathetic little ferret used to be one of you!" The Sheriff barked as he hooked the first two fingers of both hands in the air around his last three words. "I do hope you remember the rules about not conversing with the prisoners?" the Sheriff challenged.
"Yes, my Lord." Joseph nodded. He suddenly wished it was his day off today.
"Good." The Sheriff smiled. "Because as you can see - it won't get you anywhere, except earn you a spot at the gallows." He said as he raised his eyebrow. Then he proceeded toward the door.
"No, my Lord!" Hector exclaimed. "Wait!" he pleaded.
As Guy was preparing to leave, he turned and looked at Hector.
"Save it!" he hissed. "You can state your case and plead for your life the next time you see him. Not that he'll listen to you." The Lieutenant shook his head and cast a steely glance with his dark brown eyes upon Hector. "I cannot believe I wasted my breath extolling your virtues defending you to the Sheriff. He is right. You are pathetic." Guy hissed.
Guy didn't say anything to the Sheriff until they were outside of the dungeon.
"How do you wish to proceed?" Guy asked him.
"I need a few moments to think, cousin. I wanted to thrash him to bits instead of that chair!" The Sheriff huffed.
"Fine. Where do you want to meet?"
"My office." The Sheriff replied. "Give me fifteen minutes, then meet me there."
Guy nodded and left. The Sheriff proceeded on his way there. He hoped he would not run into anyone. He'd be hard pressed to exchange pleasantries at the moment. He was angry at many. He was angry with the guard for his weakness. Angry at the Fallen Knight for tricking him. He was angry at Hestia, even though she was dead, because Guy was kept occupied surveilling her, instead of overseeing the dungeon. And he was angry with himself for being so wrapped up in Rhiannon's recovery, that he failed in his duties as the Sheriff. He was humiliated! If any of his peers knew that he held the man they'd been seeking for years in custody, and then let him get away – how would that look? His reputation would be ruined! That spineless guard was lucky the Sheriff didn't thrust the sword into him instead of that chair!
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Guy entered into his private chambers. He needed a moment to think. Everything had just changed in the ten minutes they spent in the prisoner's cell. Never knowing it was Hector the jailer who was chained inside these last seventeen days! He went over to the far corner. There was a washstand there. He poured cool water from a metal jug into a basin, then he placed his hands inside and scooped some water and splashed it on his face.
"Something troubles you." Meridwyn remarked. Guy turned around. She stood behind him.
"My lady. I didn't see you come in." Guy said as he patted his face with a towel.
"No. You walked right by me in the corridor." She stated.
"I did not see you." Guy repeated absently. She looked at him. She was starting to appear more like herself. She wore a pale green gown. Her curly fiery red hair danced upon her shoulders. Guy put the towel down then walked toward her and put his hands on her shoulders.
"My love, I may have to take a journey." He began.
"No! You just got back." Meridwyn cried.
"Well, I'm not certain yet. My cousin and I have to discuss it first. But, if he should choose to send me on this mission, I want to know you'll be waiting when I return." Guy said.
"What kind of a silly thing to say is that?" Meridwyn laughed. "Of course you know I'll be waiting for you."
"As my betrothed." Guy said quietly.
"What?" Meridwyn asked.
"Will you marry me, my Lady Meridwyn?" Guy asked.
"I…I am stunned, my Lord." She finally said.
"And? What say you, my Lady?"
"I will." Meridwyn said, smiling.
Guy kissed her then. If the Sheriff should choose to send him on a search for the Fallen Knight, he would be strengthened knowing his darling Meridwyn would be waiting. She would finally be his Lady Gisborne.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The Sheriff was sitting with his head in his hands, his elbows resting upon the table when Guy came into the Sheriff's office. The Sheriff looked up.
"When do you wish for me to leave, cousin?" Guy asked.
"Leave?"
"Yes."
"I don't wish for you to leave." The Sheriff said.
Guy regarded him curiously. "If you leave, then I shall go with you." Guy announced.
"I'm not leaving either." The Sheriff remarked.
"Cousin?"
"That's what he wants, cousin. He wants to send me on a wild goose chase."
"I don't think it's wise, sire. Someone has to look for him." Guy advised.
"I'll send some of my men." The Sheriff began. "But we really have no vested interest any longer. Except that he escaped my custody." The Sheriff spat. "But think about it – the child is in others hands, they are being pursued separately. Nobody from my county is in danger. Let the Baron tell the Sheriff in his own county to do something about the maidens missing up there!"
"But, cousin!" Guy countered.
"He wants my attention. He's not getting it. Eventually I have a feeling he will venture back here. Right into my hands." The Sheriff grinned.
"Perhaps you should give this matter more thought, cousin." Guy proposed.
"No. There's no need. I had a few moments to myself to simmer down and ponder the matter. At the very least I want to give it a few days. But at this point, I say you and I stay right here." The Sheriff said.
Guy stared at him.
"You seem surprised by my decision." The Sheriff remarked.
"I am." Guy agreed. "It's not like you to sit on your hands."
"That was before I had to consider the lives of other people." The Sheriff replied. "Trust me, it is taking a great deal of restraint not to run down to the stables and mount my mare right now, to charge after that bastard!" The Sheriff growled. He pushed his chair out from the desk and arose from his seat. He walked over to the window and gazed out while he continued. "It is all a game to him, and it's all about getting my attention for some cursed, peculiar reason. If he's not getting my attention, he's going to slip up. I'm sure of it, cousin." The Sheriff turned around to face Guy. "As sure as I'm standing here before you."
"Well, when you explain it that way, I hate to admit it, it starts to make sense." Guy said. "But I think you're being rather arrogant to presume all of his crimes have been centered around you." Guy stated calmly, for he was treading on thin ice and he knew it. "I'm sure you didn't know all of the twenty seven maidens he killed, and the two more I presume he's taken."
"He has." The Sheriff said. He was too taken aback by the rest of what Guy said to comment on it right away. He fixed his eyes upon Guy's a few moments then slowly walked toward him.
"There are far too many coincidences in this cursed puzzle. He has said he blames me for whatever happened to his face. Alas, some of his crimes may have been fueled somehow by me. But I can't imagine how." The Sheriff said.
"Oh, I can." Guy remarked.
The Sheriff eyed him curiously.
"If you'll remember, cousin, you weren't exactly the kindest man about town a few years ago." Guy said. "Then again, neither was I." He chuckled.
The Sheriff regarded him with a halfhearted smile. For he wasn't in the mood for jocularity. "We are not paid to be kind." He said.
Guy cleared his throat. "Right. You are certain this is what you wish to do?"
"I am." The Sheriff said.
"Very well." Guy relented.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________
In the north of the country, Duke Farnsworth and Mordrid were leading the group of the Sheriff's soldiers who were still continuing their search for the Blacksmith and his wife. The men were growing tired and restless, so far they'd turned up nothing.
It was midday. They traveled over hills. The scenery was breathtaking, but none of them paid attention.
"We're traveling in circles, Duke. We must be going in the wrong direction." Mordrid said.
"Maybe we should split up the group. There's still a few villages we haven't hit." The Duke commented.
"It's been nearly three weeks!" Mordrid exclaimed. "By now the Sheriff has received your message, if he's not still out pursuing the man. And what have we accomplished in that time? – Nothing!"
"You must remain focused, Mordrid. No mission is easy. I've seen other searches take much longer than this." The Duke pulled on the reins to slow his horse. Mordrid and the other men followed. The Duke continued. "This is only the beginning." He winked at Mordrid.
He turned the horse around and faced the men. They all halted and gathered before him.
"Men, I know you are all tired, hungry, and bored. But this is a very important mission. We cannot fail my Lord Sheriff. We will separate into two groups and hit all of the villages and surrounding homes in a seventy five mile radius." The Duke instructed.
"It will be months before we are home again." One of the younger dark haired men muttered.
"I figured that out a fortnight ago, Richard. Where have you been?" Mordrid chortled.
"Listen!" The Duke raised his voice and lifted up his hand trying to gain control. "Men! We are making sacrifices, it is true. But we have been entrusted by my Lord Sheriff to carry out this mission. And he has been good to us has he not?"
The men nodded. They held the second highest appointed position from the Sheriff of Nottingham – Black Knights in his militia.
"Cease your complaining." The Duke continued. "Do not think about what you are sacrificing, but think on this: a child has been apart from its' father for three months. They have never even locked eyes. And its' father is our master! We must find the child!"
"You are right, Duke." Mordrid said. "He was very kind to me when Demetria had childbirth complications. He gave me a day and a half off from my duties." He smiled.
"I thought you were ailing because you partook too much mead." Richard joked. The men laughed. Mordrid rolled his eyes. Then he looked to Duke Farnsworth. He wanted to wrap this up expediently, even though he agreed that finding his master's infant was an urgent matter. So Mordrid made a suggestion.
"You and I are the only two of the lot of us who have seen the Blacksmith and his wife, Duke. I think you and I should split up. It doesn't make sense for us to be partners in this case, even though we always are."
"I agree, Mordrid. I was about to suggest the same. We will divide into two groups. Mordrid, you choose three men, I shall choose two." The Duke said.
The Duke and Mordrid made their choices and the two groups of Knights discussed their strategy first – which group would visit which designated villages. Richard was quite talented in the art of cartography. He drew up two maps and distributed them to the Duke and Mordrid. After an hour of discussion, both groups departed and continued on their mission.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Later in the afternoon while Rhiannon was taking a walk against the advice of Lady Margaret, she passed by the Council Quarters. The door was ajar so she went inside.
The Scribe was inside placing scrolls on the table. He turned when he heard a noise behind him. Lady Rhiannon stood there in a lavender gown. The sleeves were the colour of a January moon.
"Lady Rhiannon. I did not see you come in. My Lord Sheriff is not here." He spoke.
"Yes. Then – what are you doing here?" Rhiannon asked pointedly.
"I have documents I have drawn up for him. I am unable to find him, but I know he will find these here. They are important."
"Yes. I will see to it that he gets them. I will wait for my Lord in here. I know he comes by here every day." Rhiannon said.
The Scribe felt slightly uneasy about leaving her there, but relented notwithstanding.
After he left, Rhiannon wandered toward the table and touched the scrolls the Scribe had placed there. They were not sealed. Would it hurt for her take a look at them? She was filled with curiosity about the things that filled her lover's day in his duties as the Sheriff. She unrolled one. It appeared to be notes from a meeting. She glanced over it, it looked uninteresting to her so she rolled it and put it back on the table. There was one more. She picked it up an unrolled it. This one seemed interesting. What have we here? Notes from a meeting with a prisoner. She couldn't understand what the first part referred to. Most of it was written in point form:
"Doorstep. – the home is located in small village. One day's journey to the north from abandoned castle.
Remaining Fugitives: Locksley's Band of Outlaws
John Little/ Little John – whereabouts unknown.
Bull – whereabouts unknown.
Much – whereabouts unknown.
Azeem (Locksley's companion) – no longer living in England.
Robert Wordsworth – North England – uncertain of exact location."
She recognized Locksley's name. The Sheriff told her about him – his enemy from years ago, before they arrived back to Nottingham. She recognized one other name on that list. She touched the parchment where the name was scrolled there and let her fingers linger there a moment. No. It cannot be, she told herself. There had to be another with the same name. She looked upon the document a long moment then rolled it again. After she put it back she stepped away from the table, and the door opened. She turned around and looked up. The Sheriff stood before her.
"My lady!" the Sheriff exclaimed. "I did not expect to see you in here." He said as he walked toward her. "You should be resting." He said as he raised his brow.
"I know. But I wanted to take a walk." Rhiannon said.
"Indeed." The Sheriff smiled. "You can walk with me back to my private chambers. And then you can rest." He said.
"I don't want to rest." She said. She cleared her throat. "The Scribe was just in. He left you some documents on the table there." Rhiannon said. She pointed to them.
He eyed her curiously with his left eyebrow raised again. "Really?" he remarked. She was positioned precariously close to that table. Was she about to look at them when he came in?
"Yes. And there's something else." She said, her eyes downcast.
"What is it?" He asked.
"Are you going away on a journey again?" Rhiannon blurted out.
"No, my love. Why do you ask?" The Sheriff said.
"Because I was speaking to Lady Meridwyn. She told me to be prepared."
The Sheriff was puzzled. "Meridwyn told you I was leaving?"
"Sir Guy told Meridwyn that he might be leaving, but he would be discussing it with you first. And so, because he thought he was going on a journey, he asked her for her hand." Rhiannon said.
"It's about time." The Sheriff commented.
"So you are not leaving on a journey then?"
"No, my angel." The Sheriff smiled. "I am staying right here with you."
"Why would Sir Guy assume that he would be leaving?" Rhiannon pressed him. "It sounded like he expected you to send him."
"Yes." The Sheriff said. "We had a problem." He walked toward the table and picked up the scrolls. Rhiannon observed him as he unrolled them and glanced over the Scribe's notes. She knew he clearly did not want to discuss it, but she pressed on anyway.
"You did not answer." She pointed out. "Can you discuss it?"
"Not really." The Sheriff said absently as he continued to glance over the documents. "But I can tell you one of my former guards will hang for treason in the days ahead. I just don't know which one yet." The Sheriff cleared his throat and turned his head to look at her. She looked beautiful. He'd never seen the gown before. It appeared to light her up. "You're going to find out, and I'd rather you heard it from me." He said.
"You're hanging one of your own staff?" Rhiannon asked, incredulous.
The Sheriff slowly walked toward her. She was looking upon him with distaste and disappointment. He tried to shake the intrusive memory of Lady Marian that suddenly came to mind.
"You must trust me, my lady. The evidence is irrefutable. He committed an act of treason, and also put countless lives in danger by doing so." The Sheriff sighed. "I cannot go into it further, but it cannot be reversed. I cannot change the outcome." The Sheriff stated.
"Not even for one of your own?" Rhiannon said. It was a rhetorical question. He knew it, but proceeded anyway.
"The punishment for betrayal is death." The Sheriff said.
Rhiannon sighed. "Well I'm sure you have your reasons, my Lord. I do not wish to observe it, however."
"I wasn't expecting you to." The Sheriff reassured. He still didn't like the look upon her face. So he continued to expound a little more on the matter. Just a little of her understanding was all he desired.
"My lady, there is one more thing. Perhaps you'll see it my way when I tell you this: the actions of my guard may be the reason that two maidens are missing now. Perhaps they have men who care for them and are worried. As I once was." He added quietly. "They should not have to endure that. Surely you can understand this better now?" The Sheriff asked.
"Yes." Rhiannon said. "I do. I think I would just feel better if it was not your name appearing on the execution papers." Rhiannon said. She glanced up at him then looked downcast.
"The Writ of Execution." The Sheriff corrected. "Yes. Well, unfortunately my love, that is part of my duties." He said as he placed his hand softly upon her cheek.
"Must you…do that often?" Rhiannon asked tentatively, unsure she wanted to hear the answer.
"Sign the Writ of Execution?" He asked.
"Yes."
"Well, it depends. It goes in cycles you see. I haven't needed to do it for a few years. But sometimes when there is lot going on, then I find I must do it a little more…regularly." The Sheriff attempted to explain. He realized he had said too much.
"Oh." Rhiannon said quietly.
"Rhiannon, if I had another choice in this matter, I would consider it. But I don't. My former guard and jailer must hang." The Sheriff said. "I don't take these matters lightly. It is best for you to leave alone that which you have no understanding of. Alas, I've been doing this a long time."
"Yes, my Lord." Rhiannon acknowledged. The Sheriff had just lectured her, perhaps for the first time. Why did it appear that he was uncomfortable discussing anything pertaining to his duties with her?
The Sheriff placed his hands gently upon her shoulders. "My lady, I am prepared to share my life with you. But you must not question my work. There is much about it you could not begin to understand." He said. "And I do not kill people on a whim." The Sheriff added. Although I used to, he thought.
"I know, my love." Rhiannon said. "And so I will not think on it any longer. Forgive me. I did not mean to question your decision." Rhiannon smiled. Though she was curious to know about the name she saw written on the scroll that the Scribe left for him. But she could not speak of it. If she did, the Sheriff would know she read it.
"Come, my lady." The Sheriff said as he offered her his arm. She took it.
"Where are we going?" She asked as he lead her out of the room.
"Back to the private chambers." The Sheriff announced. "You are still recovering, my lady. You must rest."
She was close enough to him to take in his scent – the combination of musk and English leather.
"I'll stay put…if you stay with me." Rhiannon teased him.
The Sheriff chuckled. "My lady, that sounds rather appealing, yet I do have some other items on my agenda." The Sheriff smiled.
"Indeed, my Lord. And I can think of more interesting items to add to my agenda than sitting idle too." Rhiannon said.
He eyed her curiously, his eyebrow shot north. Yet she didn't see it. She was looking elsewhere, lost in thought. She knew there was no use complaining. She'd have to figure something out on her own. She was going to go out of her mind.
Rhiannon looked up at him as they walked together. He was now focused on the path ahead. She loved this man, would do anything for him. But someday, she hoped he would understand that she was a free spirit, just as he was. And to expect her to sit idle and fill her time with mindless, silly hobbies was completely unacceptable to her. One of these days, she was going to have to tell him. She just wasn't sure how he was going to react. And as much as she desired to be his wife, she was especially nervous about telling him she didn't wish to be a mother right away.
