Nottingham Castle - The year of Our Lord 1194

The pain, which in the meantime had spread from his back to his entire body, seemed so immeasurably severe to the knight, so inconceivably excruciating, that at that very moment he wished for nothing more than to have a chance to escape it. For him it was irrelevant whether this would mean losing consciousness or dying, the important issue was not to suffer any more. Everything else was beside the point, even the fact that he was - also - aflame.

Sir Guy was sure he knew what had transpired. He was convinced that he could only have been shot in the back with a crossbow bolt, and it seemed to him that his injury was so severe - based on his years of experience - that he did not expect to recover. He could only hope that the end would come quickly, for he already got the impression that he had to endure the intense pain raging in his body for an eternity, and this moment seemed to continue to stretch out indefinitely. Therefore, he would give everything to be delivered from it as soon as possible.

It was not the first time that Gisburne was on the verge of death. During the time he had fought for King Henry in Normandy, he had already gotten into a number of similar situations, from which he always came out alive - to his great surprise. After he had been given the opportunity to return to England, he had had high hopes that he would be spared such situations in the future, but his encounters with Hood and his people had taught him otherwise. Now this bitch had dealt him a death blow, simply for the reason that he had underestimated her. He had to admit to himself that he would never have actually believed that a Lady like her would shoot a man in the back. He had not even considered her capable of firing a crossbow. Apparently it was true, though, what the Sheriff kept blaming him for. He was an idiot.

The knight was not afraid of death - despite the fact that he had not been given a chance for confession and the ensuing absolution - nevertheless, there were definitely some regrets.

But this did not include having to die at this age. Even as a child, he had already understood that it was not his fate to grow old. Strictly speaking, back then he had assumed that he would not survive his childhood. At least his stepfather had done everything to ensure that his wife's hated bastard would not live longer than he would, but despite all his efforts he had not remained successful. In Guy's opinion, however, this was mainly due to the fact that his mother's husband had restricted himself in his deeds as he did not want to sully his own reputation.

For this reason, Sir Edmund had not even managed to deny Guy his knighthood. However, that day, which was the culmination of an unloved son's miserable life, brought once again the realization that he would not be granted reaching an old age. However, this was not what a true knight aspired to.

What the young Sir Guy had actually aspired to, however, did not come true either. After he had entered the service of the Sheriff of Nottingham - although this was not so very long ago - he had to realize that he was getting further and further away from the image that he - and probably many others - had formed of a knight, even though he repeatedly tried to work against this. However, he simply did not manage to assert himself against the influence of the Sheriff - and his brother. At some point, he seemed to have also become indifferent to it.

And then there was Hood. Sir Guy was convinced that this outlaw was the very person who had finally caused Gisburne to turn away from the conception he had of a knight, believing that only in this manner he would have a chance to exact revenge for the humiliations to which he had been subjected, both on the part of Hood and the Sheriff.

Now all of this had come to an end, as had his life. The Lady Outlaw that Marion of Leaford, who had in the past appeared to be so gentle, had become after falling for Robin of Loxley, was responsible for the fact that there would soon be no one left to bear the name of Guy of Gisburne. Nor was it any longer in the knight's hands to change this state of affairs.

Nevertheless, there was something he regretted at that very instant. During his last moments in this world, he came to understand that there had never been anyone in his life whom he could have loved and who would have returned this love. He had never expected to find a wife - who would want to marry a knight without land or property - and to raise a family, but he had wanted love even when he was just a boy. But he had never found it.

It was too late now. Destiny had caught up with him and he would not get another chance to know what love was like. This was the only regret he had for not having achieved this. Everything else was beside the point and already fading in his memory.

At last, the young knight was engulfed by darkness, and after that he knew nothing.

A suburb of London - The year 2032

"MIKE!"

Although the apartment was not so large that one could have escaped this shout, there was no stir. It was as though the person being addressed would not be conscious.

The one who had been calling, however, did not seem to be bothered by the lack of response. On the contrary, he was encouraged to try again.

"MIKE!"

Actually, it was completely unnecessary to shout, since the apartment - as mentioned before - was not very large. In fact, it was so small that only a few steps were needed to get from the door leading to the building's staircase to the bed on which the man lay, who had not responded to the shout. His mate, however, had apparently not been able to wait nonetheless. Obviously, something out of the ordinary had occurred. Which did not mean, however, that he was successful in his course of action.

But that did not seem to bother him much, as he had at the same time made the short walk to the alcove that served as his and his boyfriend's bedroom. Once there, he pulled aside the curtain separating the bed from the living room in an impatient manner, enabling him to take a - affectionate - look at his partner, who despite his loud shouting still remained in a state of blissful sleep.

Xander - actually the caller's name was Oleksander, but apart from his mother no one called him that, not even Mike - was not at all surprised, however, that the fellow did not react whatsoever. After all, he was well aware that this was not the result of his lover getting drunk to the point of unconsciousness the previous evening - although the two of them were not averse to booze - rather, it was the consequence of the other one having spent the whole of yesterday waiting - in vain - to be able to audition for a theater production. But not only did the whole business drag on until late in the evening, it then came to pass that the part had already been cast before Mike even got a chance to demonstrate what he was capable of. Yet again.

Xander knew how that felt. He had also auditioned countless times, but had never been lucky enough to land a role, no matter how small. Sometimes he was considered too young, sometimes too tall, sometimes too blond, and when he did seem to meet the requirements of the role, someone else was still preferred over him.

His partner had been a bit luckier in this respect, having already been involved in theater productions and also in advertising. Once even in a television show. But there had never been any opportunity to get further roles. Time and again, Mike had had to practically start from scratch when he applied for an audition. Sometimes the two young men asked themselves whether their dream was worth all the effort and hardship. Only to regularly answer in the affirmative, as acting was what they both lived for. Everything else they were doing was just a means to an end. And to make a living.

"Mike," the well-built fair-haired man addressed the sleeper once again, but this time much more gently. At the same time, he put a hand on his shoulder and shook him lightly. His gentle touch then seemed to do the trick in getting the dark-haired man to finally stir. Although even now he still did not give the impression that he might wake up anytime soon. But at least he had started to move and had let out something like a grumbling.

Xander was not discouraged by all of this, for he had known the other man for a very long time. They had been friends before they realized that they meant more to each other. Having been a couple for almost ten years now, they both firmly believed they would still be together in their old age. They could not imagine that their reciprocal attraction would ever lose any of its potency.

So while Mike began to toss and turn on the wide bed - this piece of furniture was one of the few things in this apartment that could be called a luxury - his partner busied himself with preparing breakfast. He had already turned on the coffee machine before heading for the door, having noticed that some mail had been delivered. They rarely received anything in this manner, but when they did, it would arrive fairly early in the day, as the carrier who was responsible for this district usually started work very early in the morning in order to be back home by the time her children got out of school. Xander and Mike were probably part of a small group of people who knew the woman on a personal level as well, precisely on account of the fact that they did not work regular hours - unlike most of their neighbors. This had allowed them to become friends with the woman and now they helped each other when they were able. Therefore, Xander could be sure that their mail would not get lost.

He took a look in the refrigerator and breathed a sigh of relief when he discovered that there was still some bacon in there. The two men had already passed their vegetarian phase - which almost all young people went through nowadays - some years ago, which was perhaps also due to the fact that neither of them was actually English and had not been influenced by the native community to the same extent as others. Mike's family hailed from Wales, and Xander had obviously been shaped by the example of his mother, who had grown up with different ideas in her homeland.

Moreover, they felt that their current eating preferences were better suited to the activity with which they earned most of their money. Of course, they were aware that this was actually nonsense, but in the meantime they had both acquired a taste for meat. They also felt fortunate that this was no longer socially frowned upon, which was also related to the fact that much had changed for the better in the production of meat-based foods. Now it was once again possible to turn away from a vegetarian - or vegan - diet without getting into trouble. The overall situation had eased quite a bit - not only in England - although it had appeared completely different for a few years. However, by the time the producers got into serious trouble, they had finally started to implement far-reaching alterations so that they could stay in business.

The aroma of fried bacon - in combination with that of the coffee - finally managed to get Mike out of bed and to the breakfast table, where he gladly accepted to be waited on by his boyfriend. Still, it took him quite some time before he was able to utter anything meaningful. Xander - who was familiar enough with this and did not mind it - meanwhile informed himself about the latest news using his tablet, but did not come across anything that he was really interested in.

On the other hand, he would very much like to know more about the envelope lying next to Mike's plate - he had made sure that it could not be overlooked - but so far the other one had ignored it. Instead, he had preferred to keep his eyes on his tall, fair-haired and blue-eyed boyfriend, which made it impossible for him to miss how impatiently the other was keeping an eye on him. Surely he knew what Xander was after, but he still had no intention of acting on it.

"What's up with you?" queried Mike his friend, bestowing a smile on him.

"With me?" Xander was unable to suppress a snort. "I don't have any appointments today." He was sure the other one had not forgotten about that.

"Oh, well," the dark-haired man admitted as he returned his attention to what was on his plate. "I do recall. You don't have to be out till tomorrow."

Xander could only nod in response as he had just shoved a piece of bacon into his mouth. His mother had taken great pains to teach her son what it meant to behave. This included not talking with his mouth full. This was important to her, even though she had always grumbled about the food in England, which she had never been able to get used to. Fortunately, nowadays it was not hard to get the stuff she knew from her native Ukraine.

Mike, however, had no problem waiting patiently for his lover to be able to speak once again.

"The production company has made the decision to shoot all the stunts they need me for on the same day. So in all likelihood I'll be busy until late in the evening. They're paying me a handsome bonus for that, though." This was nothing to sneeze at in Xander's opinion, as otherwise this month things were not looking very good regarding further job offers. But the rent still had to be paid and they wanted to eat, as well. "Don't you have an appointment tomorrow, too?" he then posed a question in return.

"A commercial. I hope this won't drag on too long," Mike replied, and finally took his first look at the envelope. Xander had placed it in such a way that the front was showing, so there was no way to tell who it was from. Nor did Mike have a clue who might have sent it. The production companies and agencies he usually worked with mailed him their offers online. These days, letters were considered pretty out of date. The only reason he could think of for choosing this method was that a letter could not be hacked. On the other hand, it could certainly get lost. So whoever decided to use this mode of delivery wanted to clearly set themselves apart from their competitors. Mike was unsure whether to consider such an approach good or not. At least not without having opened the letter, which he was still reluctant to do. As long as he had not yet looked inside, he did not need to bother with the contents.

On the front, printed in easy to read letters, it said 'Meical Noble' and this was another difference between the mail and other offers, as he was known as 'Mike Noble' by most of the companies. This very thought brought a brief smirk to his face, as he was reminded that most people thought this was a stage name, when in fact it was the name he had been born with.

Needless to say, this involuntary reaction had not escaped his boyfriend's notice, causing him to raise one of his eyebrows inquiringly. Mike only shook his head for a second, then gave him another smile to show the man that his question had definitely pleased him.

This prompted Xander to return to the subject that interested him most on that morning. "Aren't you going to open the letter?" he therefore tried to get his friend to finally deal with the mail. He was sure the other one would not have failed to notice that this was not an advertisement. On the contrary, it seemed to be quite important and this then had been the only reason why he had woken Mike up at all, since he would usually not have bothered him for some time yet, having gotten home so late.

The no less well-built dark-haired man - who also earned his money primarily as a stuntman - made no effort to follow his boyfriend's suggestion. But he did turn the letter over warily to see if a sender could be identified.

'NIF - Nottingham' it said, which meant nothing at all to Mike. He could not remember hearing that name mentioned ever before, so he picked up the envelope and pointed with it at Xander.

"You know them?"

The other man had already taken a look at the sender, of course, so now he was able to shake his head rather quickly. "Never heard of them," he had to admit. For his part, he now picked up his tablet and allowed his partner to look at the display while he continued talking.

"It just says the company is based in Nottingham. Nothing more." He frowned. "That's odd."

Mike Noble again flashed him his dazzling smile, which had already earned him several engagements. "I wouldn't call it odd, I'd call it mysterious."

Now it was Xander's turn to give his friend his characteristic half-smile. "You always manage to find some good in everything," he then confirmed the fact that his friend usually saw matters in a favorable light, while he was the one to first spot what was not working. He considered it reassuring that they complemented each other in this respect. And he viewed it as great delight that this was not the only aspect that defined their partnership.

This made him reach across the table and place his hand on his friend's before pestering him again.

"Now at last you should open the letter. Who knows, maybe it will be your breakthrough!" At this point he had to laugh at his own words, since both of them had been hoping for something like this for years. But so far it had remained pure wishful thinking.

Mike did him finally the favor and tore the letter open. Inside, however, there was not an ordinary piece of writing - as they had both expected - but only a laminated card the same size as the envelope, with a short text printed on it. Reading the few words, it was the dark-haired man's turn to frown.

"What's it?" the other wanted to know, for the light was reflected on the laminated surface of the card so he was unable to make out the words.

"It's an appointment for an audition. In three days. In Nottingham," was the answer, revealing astonishment.

"For what production?"

"It doesn't say anything about that. Just that I'm supposed to maintain an open mind."

"Mysterious," while getting up Xander repeated the very word his friend had used earlier.

He stepped around the table and now brushed the other man's shoulder tenderly. "Obviously, you can't solve this riddle just now. Since we have nothing else to do all day, I would like to make a suggestion." He leaned down to his friend, who was looking at him just at that very moment, and kissed him extensively to make him understand what else he was willing to do. It took the other only a short moment to react and his 'answer' made it abundantly clear to Xander that he was favorably disposed to his suggestion.

It was not much longer before the two men had made themselves comfortable on the wide bed. In any case, they had no intention of being bothered once again on this day. And also not to rack their brains over the mysterious letter.

Nottingham - The year 2032

It had been no problem for Xander to accompany his boyfriend to the audition in Nottingham, since he himself had no appointments at the moment. Given that Mike would most likely return to London late in the evening or even in the night - but had already had to leave at dawn - he had made up his mind to come along. He also hoped that they might be able to celebrate in the other city that he had indeed landed a role, even if it turned out to be a small one. He knew very well that Mike - just like him - saw himself first and foremost as an actor and not as a stuntman, even if they made more money that way.

Moreover, the fair-haired man had also come along since he was interested in learning what was behind this offer. What project did this company want to set up and why did they not want it to be known, although it was quite common to broadcast everything in the social media. Had they chosen to act in this manner in order to reach an even larger audience or were they afraid that someone else might beat them to it?

The address shown on the card to which Mike had been summoned turned out to be a large, modern building, with a number of halls located on several floors. After entering the building, the first thing they noticed was that the individual locations had been titled with unusual names. Unusual at least in terms of being used by a company that apparently produced films. But perhaps it was also possible to draw conclusions about the subject of the production based on the names. Several halls had been labeled 'Castle' and were then further distinguished by the addition of a digit. In addition, there was also 'Forest', 'Village', 'Town', 'Road' and some more. If only actors for one project were sought here, then this was obviously quite large.

Xander also figured this from the number of people who showed up in the foyer throughout the day to make their way from there to their auditions. With several of them he had spotted the same kind of laminated card that Mike had received.

The two men had arrived here long before the appointed time, for they had set off early - for fear of a train cancellation and to avoid being late in any case. Therefore, they had lingered in the foyer for a while, observing the other people passing by. Then Mike had had to leave for his own audition - he had been ordered to a room marked 'Lake' - and Xander had stayed behind all alone, after seeing his boyfriend off with a heartfelt kiss.

He had always had trouble keeping still for any length of time, so after only a short while he began to roam around the large room. He studied the plans of the building that hung next to the entrance pointing out the evacuation routes. He once again perused the names of the halls, trying to figure out what kind of project this might be, trying not to dwell on what kind of role Mike had been invited to audition for. And he let his eyes wander over a rigorously planned - and thus rather dull - garden landscape that could be seen through some of the floor-to-ceiling windows at the rear of the building.

He was so lost in thought that he almost leapt up when he was unexpectedly approached from behind.

"Still time before your appointment?" someone demanded to know. Xander had been set on hearing Mike's voice, which made him turn around rather abruptly. Besides, he did not like it when someone sneaked up on him from behind.

His gaze fell on an elderly man in inconspicuous but casual attire who was shorter than himself - which was often the case, since he measured 188 centimeters - but with the bearing of someone who knew exactly what he wanted and who was also used to having others follow him.

He shook his head and explained to the other one that he was just accompanying a friend.

"So you are free for now," was all the man would say in response. Indeed, he carried on straight away before his vis-a-vis could remark on the statement. "Come along." His tone suggested that he was expecting Xander to follow him no matter what.

The latter had already started to move before he became aware of it. When he noticed this, he did not want to expose himself in front of the man, although he clearly felt caught off guard by him.

However, he obviously had not been able to completely cover up his insecurity. "Don't worry, I'm not planning to kidnap you," the stranger informed him with a kind smile before immediately following up with the question regarding his name.

"Xander Murray," was the prompt reply.

"Xander? Is that really your name?"

The younger man had definitely been hoping that the man would assume that this was his proper name, since he had already met a few people who actually went by the same. However, his ID card said something else and he did not intend to start this encounter with a lie.

"Oleksander Murray," he replied therefore.

"Russian?" ensued the one question that was apparently unavoidable.

However, it was not that being of Russian origin would have bothered Xander, it just did not match the truth.

"My mother is from Ukraine," he enlightened the other.

"I see," was the curt reply, followed by, "But that's not relevant right now. I was just curious, Xander."

While they were carrying on this conversation, the two men had entered one of the numerous elevators and had already reached the third floor, where they got out. Eventually, they stopped in front of a room labeled "Castle 2."

The other one was giving the impression that he was about to open the door, when obviously something else occurred to him after all. "Have you ever auditioned before?" he then inquired.

Xander nodded.

"And what have you been performing?" the other one wanted to know subsequently.

"Nothing at all," Xander was forced to admit.

"What do you do for a living then, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I'm a stuntman."

"Stuntman? Well, what about it?" The other one eyed him with definite curiosity, and Xander wondered if what went through his mind was what most people used to think of when they looked at him. Tall, athletic, fair-haired and blue-eyed. And handsome, as not only his boyfriend kept confirming to him, although that was irrelevant for a stuntman, since no one ever got to see his face.

"I have already participated in Viking productions, as I am quite good with a sword, but also with other medieval weapons. However, my specialty is riding and the handling of horses."

"Indeed? That's splendid." The other one even beamed at this point and finally opened the door.

The hall that appeared beyond was not as large as Xander had expected it to be. He was interested, of course, in the camera that had been aimed at a platform - some kind of stage. So this room was indeed set up for an audition. He had not really been able to believe in it until that moment.

To be on the safe side, he reminded the other guy that he did not have any appointment, as he did not want to get into difficulties for having been mistaken for someone else. That could then also have an impact on Mike.

"No problem," the other shrugged it off. "If you would please make your way up there," he then asked him in a friendly but firm tone, as if he were used to giving instructions.

Xander ascended the few steps, but then he stopped, not knowing what was expected of him.

The other man, who still had not introduced himself, fiddled with his smartphone, whereupon the camera was properly aimed at the stage.

"What do you want me to do?" Xander was too nervous to wait for the other person to tell him what to do.

"Picture yourself as a knight in the Middle Ages having to address a large group of peasants. You are extremely annoyed, or more accurately, enraged, for the people always resist you. Furthermore, you are of the opinion that you are superior to these peasants. I'm not interested in the words you use, I'm more interested in the way you deliver them."

At first, Xander had absolutely no clue what he was supposed to do. Being annoyed and enraged was not really a problem, as he had learned to convey something like that. And he had already demonstrated it in auditions. Nevertheless, just now he was uncertain what the other one wanted to hear and see as he had had no time to prepare for this situation. On the other hand, he also did not want to let this opportunity pass, and therefore he had to decide as quickly as possible how a knight would act in front of a group of peasants. Usually, he made do with imagining people he knew, but who should he choose in this case? How could he put himself into the right mood?

However, it did not take as long as he had feared, and when he hit upon the solution, he even had to suppress a chuckle. There was indeed someone he would really enjoy bashing, and that was the guy who snatched a role from him the last few times he had gotten really close to it in an audition, just for being more connected than he was, not more talented. So now Xander pictured him standing down there in front of the stage - amidst the group of imaginary medieval peasants. Nor did he have any more trouble envisioning himself as superior to them. With this man, after all, he was sure that was the truth.

When asked later what he had been saying exactly, he realized he could not recall anything about it, but he remembered that he had put all his contempt for his untalented rival into his speech, as well as his anger at having been ousted by him. He only became aware of his surroundings once again when he heard the other man clapping.

"Excellent," he called out. "That was exactly what I had in mind. Not yet flawless, but it's something I can work with. Come down to my side, Xander, but start considering whether you'd like to work for me. As an actor, not as a stuntman. For an entire show."

An entire show? This was the first tangible information Xander got about this mysterious production.

"What's it all about?" he inquired promptly.

"I can let you know as soon as you have signed the non-disclosure agreement. However, if you choose to take on this role, I won't let anyone else audition for it. You are the very person I have in mind for it. What's more, you'll be able to do your own stunts."

"But...," Xander followed up, for he suddenly was not sure he was up to an entire show.

"No buts!" the other one cut him off. "Anything that may still come up in terms of problems, we'll be able to fix together. I'm confident about that."

The man seemed so certain of himself that Xander followed him to an adjacent room, where there were several seats next to a desk and a cabinet. The other man was simply bursting with vigor. He made his way behind the desk, pulled out a sheet from a pile, simultaneously pointing with his free hand to one of the vacant armchairs - on which the younger man obediently sat down - put the agreement in front of him and placed a pen next to it, which he all at once had in his hand. It all happened so fast - and so smoothly - as if it were a well-rehearsed stage act.

"There!" He pointed to the dotted line. Xander nearly signed it without reading through what was there, but he just managed to pull himself together. He need not have worried, though, for it was really just a standard non-disclosure agreement that he had dealt with a few times in the past. He put his signature under it and then leaned back. He now wanted to know what he was getting himself into here.

The other man took the sheet back, put it on the side and leaned back as well. He had a very satisfied look on his face.

"Well ..." he began, "I'm sure you're curious." Xander almost commented that this was quite an understatement, but he was just able to restrain himself, and the other one went on.

"We want to shoot the remake of a British show that will have its 50th anniversary two years from now, but still enjoys great popularity. This series, set in the Middle Ages and dealing with a popular legend, was originally aimed at families back then, but that's something we want to change. Even though we want to stick to the theme and keep the old stories, we want our show to be targeting an adult audience. This implies more violence and more sex. We are of the opinion that this has great potential."

This information immediately got Xander wondering what show he was talking about here. He could come up with several that were about popular medieval legends, but he was not sure how old most of them were. But the likelihood that Mike and he might have seen it already was very high. Still, what he had so far been told was not yet sufficient for him, although he was itching to sign the contract right this minute.

"What's the show called?" he wanted to know.

"Robin of Sherwood," came the reply, which was immediately followed by the question of whether he would be interested. Xander was unable to respond straight away, however - although he was now quite sure that he definitely did not want to miss out on this, no matter what role he was supposed to play - for first he had to catch his breath, as this was one of his favorite shows - despite its antiquity - and he knew that this also applied to Mike. He then became aware that his partner had apparently auditioned for it as well. Or hadn't he?

"Is it known to you?" the other man inquired. Xander was only able to nod.

"So you're familiar with the characters, then," the other stated, to which the younger man once again had to nod. The man on the other side of the desk beamed.

"I present you now with the opportunity of playing a part for which I think you are eminently suited. You are to portray Sir Guy of Gisburne. The audition has convinced me and furthermore you have certain characteristics in common with the actor who originally performed this role. Sign now and I promise that no one will have the slightest chance to snatch this role away from you. There will be no one able to reverse my decision in this regard. What do you say?"

Xander was in no position to say anything until all of a sudden he was reminded of another question to which he absolutely had to get an answer.

"Is everyone around here auditioning for this show today?" he demanded to know, and immediately recognized that the other had not expected this question, for he frowned.

Suddenly, though, a smile lit up his face. "You want to know if your friend has also succeeded, don't you? Can you tell me to which room he has been called?"

Before the younger man had a chance to answer, however, the door to the corridor was suddenly yanked open and someone came rushing in. "I found him," he exclaimed as soon as he had crossed the threshold.

"That's great, Josh," was the response from the man behind the desk, whose name Xander still did not know. "And I've also found someone to play the part of Sir Guy of Gisburne, namely this young man here. But I see you're anxious to show me who you deem fit to portray Robin Hood? Did you bring him with you?"

"Of course," Josh replied, pulling Mike into the room.

Nottingham Castle - The year of Our Lord 1194

Sir Guy puzzled about why he had such an unusually hard time waking up on this particular morning. Had he drunk more than usual the night before? The fact that he did not experience any of the effects of excessive consumption of liquor would argue against this. What, then, could be the cause for his problems? And why could he not immediately figure it out?

When he finally managed to open his eyes, he was surprised a second time, for everything he looked at seemed unfamiliar to him and he did not know his whereabouts. In addition, he also had the impression that something very important was missing.

All of a sudden he noticed someone moving nearby and the next moment the worried face of the physician, who was attending to the Sheriff, loomed over him. Everything that had seemed unfamiliar to him previously at once fell into place, and he also knew straight away that he was in Nottingham Castle. Moreover, without realizing it, the sense of loss that had plagued him just a moment ago vanished, and so completely that it did not even leave the shadow of a trace.

Instead, everything else came to his mind once again, although he would gladly forget some of it. There was the King's order to secretly dispose of the outlaws - which reminded him of the disgust he had experienced after he had realized he was to be used as an executioner - there was his failure to pay due attention to Lady Marion, which had resulted in a bolt in his back, and there was the fire in the barn, together with the pain and the realization that this was now his end.

Obviously, he had been wrong about the latter, since he was still staying in the castle. At least he hoped that this was not Hell.

"How long?" he croaked out, which not only brought an answer - three days - but also a cup with a liquid - cider - held to his lips. Gratefully, he took a few sips.

Three days? Gisburne frowned, as this seemed more than unlikely to him. He had a pretty accurate understanding of the severity of his injuries, and according to that, he should not have felt that well again - seen relatively - after only three days.

"My back?" was therefore his next question.

"You were lucky, My Lord," replied the physician, whose name did not come to the knight's mind at that moment. "The bolt actually didn't go in very deep, even if at first it had seemed otherwise. The Sheriff reckons it must have grazed something else first."

Gisburne frowned once again, remembering exactly the sensation when the bolt entered his flesh. At that moment he had puzzled that the arrow had not stuck out of the front of his chest. Now, just like that, he was told that the wound was not very deep. Could it really be that he had only imagined everything else?

Instead of mulling it over further, he asked about his arm, for he could still well remember the flames that had consumed his flesh.

"You were lucky there, too, My Lord. Your clothes were indeed completely burned, but what we first mistook for the remains of your skin was apparently also just cloth. You will probably not even be left with a scar."

The knight was once again sure that the pain he could recall was indicative of something more serious, but perhaps the entire affair had actually confused him so much that he thought he was remembering things that had not even occurred.

Gisburne had to realize that his eyes were falling shut all over again. Even if the physician claimed that he had been lucky with all of his injuries, this did not change the fact that he felt quite exhausted. And before he could ponder any further which of his memories he should trust, he had again drifted off to sleep. At this point, of course, he could not know that he would be able to remember much less after the next time he woke up.

Maybe it would have comforted him, though, if he had already known that then everything would go back to its usual course. On the other hand, it was perhaps quite good that he did not know that yet, for the usual course of events did not mean that everything would be fine again for Sir Guy of Gisburne.