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Each gallop of the stallion stabbed into Guy's back as he made it back into the camp just outside of Nettlestone. His body, and his mind, were worn rugged and ached with the work of the past week. An occupation of ordering about soldiers would not be so bad if Vesey would hire a cluster that could actually manage to do something themselves, he mulled over in his mind. The Sherriff foolishly demanded that the imperial troops not have the intelligence or wits or rise up against him, which inevitably led to failure and incompetence abound. Guy was done carrying the workload of thirty men. He was unaware that just yards away Marian was pressed against the trees giving her goodbyes to Robin of Locksley.
She felt cloaked by the foliage and wrapped up by the branches and shrubs off the path. With one last kiss Robin finally extracted himself from her gravitational pull, missing the taste of her lips already. Her hazel eyes sealed up the moment because both Marian and the outlaw were fully aware that their rendezvous was coming to a close.
"You need to go," Robin whispered with a flavor of Irish words, "You can't be found out of the castle." Lady Knighton nodded solemnly and tightened her mouth for a moment – it was falling into dusk. Purple would soon streak the skies as an orange glow tumbled down the horizon.
"Come for me soon." She pleaded. Robin's beard parted for a smile, knowing the deal. They exchanged visits – he went to her and she would travel to him, never twice in a row except for emergencies.
"Eh, it's a bit of a ride from Sherwood, Marian. I don't see it happening soon." He said, but could not pull off a serious expression nor keep a steady tone. She swatted his chest hard and pushed back a few pieces of hair from her shoulders.
"Well I shall make it worth your while then." She sultrily jabbed, nudging around his body and proceeding to the trail. Her soft soled shoes scuffled to the border of the path into town as Robin chipped in his farewells.
"I love you." He tossed over with a heartfelt passion.
"And I you, Robin Hood." She flung back without turning to see his wave. She stepped up onto the stirrup of her mare and slid onto the back of the animal. Marian was fully aware that she had to race back to Nottingham, and she had no doubt it was possible. A person with her skill in equestrian riding would have no problem, she conceitedly pondered whilst kicking off and pounding south. Coming up to a fork, she veered left but halted instantaneously as she noticed a group of guards in polished armor and yellow sleeves. Gisborne's men. The hooves of her horse skidded and flailed on the rocky soil at the sudden change of direction, rocking her body unsteadily and plucking at the ears of the guards. Marian stormed over to the other side of the split in the road and slipped herself and the mare into a small pocket between two trees. It was poor cover. Recognizing this, she tapped her heels and pulled out back onto the thoroughfare.
"Marian?" bolted a voice from a few sapling trunks away. She shut her eyes and pasted on a porcelain face; she would recognize that baritone voice from much further away. Gisborne strolled his own black horse up parallel to hers and lowered his chin. Although each muscle in his face depicted sternness, his crystal blue eyes were flecked with surprise, "You are not to be out of the castle."
"Sir Guy, I know," she hoarsely hammed it up and avoided looking at his looming presence, "but really, I just needed air. One cannot breathe between stone walls."
"There is a courtyard." He dashed in on her excuse. Marian could not start to realize just how much Guy was boiling up inside at her misconduct; she crossed him both personally and professionally each day of the week and he had had enough.
"Guy, please." she stared up with doe eyes and tried to appeal to his affections. Unfortunately for her, they had scabbed over and seeing her riding easily half an hour away from the fortress of Nottingham. He waved over a few soldiers and sharply tugged his reigns to stop his horse's fidgeting.
"These men will escort you to your chambers, where we will discuss your ridiculous behavior when I return. It is your choice whether I find you in your room or a jail cell." Gisborne watched the truthful sadness hit her just before a gauze of phony remorse came into play. His nostrils flared at her games. He watched as the metal clad men led the woman away and could not push the frustration down; the constant lies to his face and false sorrow really ate at his heart. He could not bear the constant deceit and veiled hatred she held in her deep eyes. A woman's eyes were nothing but tools with which to manipulate you. Looking down at his leather glove Guy's mind suddenly flipped to last week; green eyes. Those blue eyes were fake, poisonous, and offensive weapons, however green eyes had only done him good. Green eyes were grateful. April was respectful.
Gisborne tugged his gloves up and stared along the dusty path that led to a deep blue horizon. Kirkslee's Abbey was only about ten minutes away; he could certainly make it by nightfall and be back in time to finish packing up the camp before he needed to sleep. The fresh scent of healthy pine floated into his nostrils; would April even want to see him? Sure she said she was 'indebted,' but all women are independent, selfish liars. Or were they? Gisborne's curiosity pushed the stallion forward towards the north road to the Abbey, giving him no time to prepare his next move. His chest tightened in anticipation of hearing honesty. This, he feared, would only be a letdown.