Lady Nottingham's Secret: Book Two

by Lady to the Sheriff

This is the continuation of Lady Nottingham's Secret. It turned into a bit of a novel but it's almost done. Chapter 1 here is actually 56. There's new twists & excitement coming. Will the Sheriff and his lovely lady survive the ultimate test?

30. Chapter 85

The men had dismounted their horses and were holding the reins walking their horses toward the stables at Nottingham Castle. They were surprised to see the Sheriff exiting the stables. He stood under a covered area near the entrance of it. The men walked closer toward him.

"Well, this is a first. I grant you three a night off and you're back — only a short while past sundown." the Sheriff chuckled.

"We went to the tavern, but — " Adam started to say.

"It was crowded and there was some commotion there." Drake said.

"And, a situation arose which we need to speak to you about, Milord." Luke added.

"I see. Did you lads drink?"

"Not much, Milord. We had just started on our mugs of ale when… the situation happened." Adam said.

"We cut it short then, Milord." Drake nodded.

"What situation? Whatever commotion you referred to, Drake?" the Sheriff asked, pointedly.

"No. Something different, Milord." Luke said.

"I see. Right. Get the horses inside the stables then come inside before you lads drown out here. We can talk once you're inside." Nottingham said.

"In the Council Quarters, Milord?" Luke asked.

"No. Go to the Dining Hall. It's warmer in there, and I'll see that you lads are served your ale, as well as something to nibble on if you like." he said.

"A very good idea, indeed, Milord." Drake smiled.

Fifteen minutes later they met him inside the Dining Hall. The Sheriff had the servants come over to their table, bringing them mugs of ale, and trays of fruit, cheese, figs, and nuts were placed upon the table.

After the servants left them the Sheriff spoke.

"Tell me about the situation that transpired." he said as he took a sip of brandy.

"Yes. It was rather odd." Drake remarked as he took a sip of the ale.

Nottingham looked at him curiously with a quirk of his brow.

"Were you recognized?" a beat. "Although, I'm pleased to see you're all out of uniform."

"We're not sure, Milord." Adam said.

"Indeed." Drake muttered.

"Just tell him, Drake. You had the encounter with him." Luke urged him.

The Sheriff set his goblet on the table and turned to Drake with his eyebrow quirked.

Drake nodded and sighed, then looked to the Sheriff who now had his eyes narrowed suspiciously upon him.

"I had an encounter with a stranger… whom I'm not sure is all that strange to me." Drake began.

"I'm sorry… what?" Nottingham asked slowly.

"I bumped into a man when a commotion broke out at the tavern." Drake said as he placed his mug on the table. "He walked with the aid of a walking stick. I regretted I nearly knocked him off balance, so I bought him a drink while I was getting some for my mates." a beat. "He seemed oddly familiar, and he was acting suspiciously, Milord."

"In what way?" Nottingham pressed.

"He averted eye contact, except once, briefly. Spoke in a low whisper — almost like he was trying to disguise his voice." Drake replied.

"Well, that could mean any number of things." Nottingham pointed out. "Other than that, was there anything else?"

"He seemed familiar to me. In the fleeting moment he looked at me, his eyes were familiar. And, even though he kept his voice lowered, that was familiar to me, too… somehow." Drake shrugged then took a swig of his ale.

"Interesting. You don't think it's just something involving you personally?"

"No. I don't think so. I invited him to join us at the table the lads were seated at. I pointed them out to him. He looked in their direction a moment, then made his excuses, saying he'd be leaving after he finished his ale."

"We got talking about it when Drake joined us. We began to wonder about his reasoning for acting so oddly with Drake." Adam added.

"Maybe he was drunk? You did find him in a tavern." Nottingham reminded them as he nibbled on a grape.

"He wasn't acting drunk, Milord. He was clear in speech and did not stagger. His eyes appeared normal in the brief second he showed them to me, not glassy looking like you'd expect from one who'd imbibed. I returned to the bar where I left him, very soon after speaking with him. We wanted to get him to talk more. But, he'd already left." Drake said, shaking his head.

"We wondered if he was on your wanted list, Milord." Luke said.

"We went outside to look for him, but he was gone." Adam added.

"I can't think of anyone on the list who uses a walking stick, but, I suppose anything is possible. The stick could even be part of his disguise, too. What else about him? Can you describe him?"

"He was tall. Kind of lean. Longish dark, chestnut coloured hair that was tinged in grey. Quite vivid green eyes." Drake said.

"Not too many people have eyes like that. My lady has soft green eyes, but, I think I've only known one with eyes like that." the Sheriff said with his brow furrowed as he took another sip of brandy. He sighed. "And, it's not him, so, I can't think of anyone meeting that description. Not even someone who is wanted, truthfully."

"Doesn't Nigel have green eyes?" Adam asked Drake.

"Come to think of it… yes. I believe you're right, mate. But the stranger's eyes were different. A bright vivid green. Nigel's are more… muted." Drake said.

"Well, it's good to hear the stranger is not someone you're after!" Adam smiled at the Sheriff as he took a swig of ale.

"Just because he's not known to me doesn't mean he hasn't done anything warranting looking into." Nottingham said, addressing each of them. "You're right. He raised your suspicions and your instincts kicked in. That's what makes you all invaluable to me. Never ignore your gut instincts, lads. Often it's a gut instinct that can guide you to act accordingly."

"Wisely put, Milord Sheriff." Luke nodded.

"Each of you were curious enough that you did a cursory search for him outside of the tavern." Nottingham reminded them as his eyebrow shot north.

"I'd swear I've seen those eyes before. Heard his voice before. I can't put my finger on it." Drake said, shaking his head.

"Milord, How would you wish us to proceed? Should we resume our search of him?" Luke asked.

"I need more information first." Nottingham said. "Tell me about this commotion in the tavern you mentioned. It could be he was trying to avoid being recognized by whomever was involved in… whatever that was."

"A couple of men pulled out their swords right in the middle of the tavern. Not sure what that was about. Adam and I saw it from our vantage point, but, obviously not as well as Drake." Luke said.

"Just a show of drunken bravado from what I could tell." Drake said.

"Did the man seem bothered by that?" Nottingham asked.

"No. I don't think so." Drake said.

"How long did that go on?"

"Not long at all. A tall burly guard at the door by the name of Slayer broke them up." a beat. "Slayer. Deadly!" Drake chuckled.

"Indeed." Nottingham grinned.

"Truthfully, it was like a shadow crossed over him once I pointed out the table where these lads were seated at." Drake added, nodding to his comrades.

"So, maybe it was us, or one of us he recognized?" Luke suggested.

"Then why keep his head low after a quick glimpse into my eyes? Or attempt to disguise his voice — before I pointed you two out?" Drake asked.

The Sheriff rested his elbows on the table, his hands clasped together.

"Coincidence?" Adam shrugged.

"There are very few coincidences in life, Adam. No. Think about it. What do you all have in common?" Nottingham quizzed him.

"We're Black Knights. We work for you." Drake sighed.

"I should have known." Luke huffed.

"Indeed." Adam said.

"I could be wrong, but it sounds like he recognized you men as being Black Knights, even though you're out of uniform." Nottingham said.

"So, how shall we proceed with this, Milord?" Luke reiterated.

He opened his mouth to respond, and just then, Gisborne entered into the Dining Hall.

Guy walked toward the table, curious to see his cousin sharing a libation with three of his men.

"Cousin. What brings you by?" Nottingham asked.

"One of Meridwyn's cravings. I came to see if Jean Louis had any mini venison meat pies to spare." Guy chuckled.

"I'll have one of the servants summon him. Pull up a chair, Gis. Your timing is impeccable. We need to pick your brain about something." Nottingham hinted with a knowing glance that said, 'Have I got a story for you!'

Guy grinned and took a seat at the table.

Darkness had cast a shadow over the room save for a few candles that were burning when Celestria awoke. She was surprised to note that she was feeling hungry. She sat up from the bed and noticed that Sister Isemay had fallen asleep in her chair. Celestria quietly and carefully arose from the bed so as not to disturb the sleeping nun. She found a warm velvet floor length robe at the foot of the bed and put it on over her shift. Next she grabbed a candlestick and carried it with her as she quietly crept out of the room.

Father Tuttle was in his sitting room downstairs preparing notes for his Sunday sermon. He read through what he had penned thus far then dipped the quill in the jar of ink to put more of his thoughts on the parchment. He noticed light in his peripheral vision and looked toward it. He was startled to see the young maiden was standing in the doorway.

He set the quill down, arose from his seat and walked toward her.

"Are you alright, Celest? Shouldn't you be resting? Where's Sister Isemay?" the grey haired priest asked.

"I'm fine, Father. I've rested quite a bit these last few days. Sister Isemay has fallen asleep in her chair. She's been tending to me day and night, so, it's not surprising." she said.

"I see. Come. At least take a seat. You're probably still weakened." he smiled as he directed her to a chair.

She nodded and let him guide her toward it. She took a seat and set the candlestick beside her on a table.

"Have you thought more on what we spoke of yesterday, Miss?"

"A little. I'm not sure it's needed, Father."

"Sanctuary, you mean?"

"Yes." she nodded.

The Priest furrowed his brow and took his seat across from her as he studied her a moment.

"Are you sure that's wise, Celest? He tried to kill you once. I've no doubt he'd try again." he reminded her.

"I angered him, Father. I went about… things in the wrong way." she remarked evasively, then looked downcast.

"And, anger justifies his actions? My dear girl, anger is no excuse — unless you executed a misdeed so egregious, or criminal, there is no excuse." Father Tuttle said.

"It was… a terrible lie, I suppose." she said.

"I see. Well, if you choose to reject the offer of sanctuary then you must consider your next moves. Where would you go when you're well enough to leave here?"

"I cannot go back… to the brothel. Forgive me for saying it, Father, but that is the truth of it. That is where I was employed. My employer, I'm almost certain, was the one who told him where to find me." she explained.

"What's the other choice?"

"To return home. To Derbyshire." she said with a shudder. She really did not want to go back there to live.

"I can see the thought of that troubles you, Celest." he said.

"It does. But, I can't leave this country, Father. And that's what would happen if I accept your offer of sanctuary." she said firmly.

"I also told you that I believe your case is different than usual, Miss." he reminded her.

"You did, but I'm not willing to risk that."

"I see. Perhaps you should take more time to think on it?"

"Perhaps." she said.

"In the meantime, is there anything I can get for you?"

"I am a little hungry, Father." she said.

"Very well. How does bread, cheese, and soup sound?" he smiled, pleased to see her appetite had returned.

"That would be divine, Father." she smiled.

A servant arrived at the table, refilling their goblets, and serving a mug of ale to Gisborne. The Sheriff requested a meeting with Jean Louis. The lady servant nodded then took her leave. The three men relayed the same story to Gisborne — who listened intently, just as intrigued by it as the Sheriff. At the end of their report, the Sheriff turned to Guy with a quirk of his brow.

"What do you think about that, Gis?" he asked.

"It's definitely curious." Guy agreed. Then he looked to Drake. "It would seem the man knew you somehow?"

"And then, he acted even more rattled after I pointed out Luke and Adam to him?" Drake pointed out.

"I'd say he recognized you as Black Knights." Guy said, taking a swig of the cool ale.

"Seems rather evident, doesn't it?" Nottingham nodded.

"Indeed. The description gave me pause, also. Especially the comment about his eyes." Guy said, softly.

The three men looked at Gisborne curiously.

"Agreed." Nottingham said as he took a sip of brandy. "That is purely coincidental, though. The rest of the description doesn't fit, anyway — besides what we already know to be fact. Lean? Grey tinge to the hair?" Nottingham shook his head.

"Maybe this man is related by blood, Cousin?"

Luke, Drake, and Adam observed their exchange, then looked at one another with bewildered expressions and shrugged.

"Doubtful. Like, whom? A cousin? He didn't have a brother, and he surely didn't have a son. Even if he did the boy would be a small child. Eye colour is the only part that's coincidental, Gis." he said as his eyebrow shot north.

"Indeed." Guy said.

"What should we do about this?" Adam asked both the Sheriff and Gisborne.

"It's worth looking into." Guy said.

"I'd agree." Nottingham said.

"Should we go back?" Luke asked.

"No. Not tonight, but it's wise to return." he said.

"When? Name it and I'll do whatever you ask." Drake said.

The Sheriff thought for a moment as all eyes were upon him, awaiting his directive.

"Yes. You shall definitely return, Drake. You got a better look at him. It's clear he knows who you lads work for… at least two of you anyway, since one of you are newer in the ranks." he said with his eyebrow quirked, knowingly.

"You want me to accompany him? What about the Captain?" Guy suggested.

"No. If it's true he recognized Drake, and probaly Adam, he'd know you both in a heartbeat."

"We can't send Drake alone." Luke said.

"Correct, Luke. Thus, you and Ancel shall accompany Drake. Go tomorrow after sundown. Again, dress and act normally — not in uniform. You know what to do: Order up ale for yourselves, but you men will go easy on the drinking. The less you imbibe the better, so, act the part of a tavern denizen. You're there to observe. If you see him, engage. If, after a time you don't see him, then expand your search." the Sheriff directed.

"Understood, Milord. Perfect plan." Luke nodded.

"As you wish, Milord." Drake said.

"It shall be done, Milord Sheriff." Luke nodded.

"I will brief Ancel about the plan." Nottingham said.

"What would you have us do when we find him, Milord? Should we detain him, and bring him to you?" Drake asked.

"On what grounds, though, Drake? Based on a hunch?" Luke asked.

"Precisely, Luke." Nottingham said, then he addressed them both. "Follow through with your earlier plan. Keep him drinking. Get him talking. Keep your eyes open." he drew in a sigh then continued. "And, I must impress upon you again to pay attention to what you're drinking, too. In times like these, I only pretend to imbibe. Control is always key, lads." Nottingham instructed.

"Of course, Milord." Luke nodded.

"Yes, Milord. I agree. We shall do that." Drake said.

"And the three of you will have to make a judgement call based on that, if you find him. But, since he hasn't committed a crime that we know of, there's no use searching all night. And, besides… "

"Besides… what, Milord Sheriff?" Luke asked.

"You shall be coming with me on a stag hunt on Sunday." Nottingham replied to him, matter of factly.

"Me?" Luke asked.

"Yes. You and Mordrid. You're to bring your bows with you."

"Naturally, Milord. Swords are useless for hunting. But… why us? Just… curious." Luke asked.

"Because I need my archers. We're going to have a talk on our way to Newerche." the Sheriff said. He caught the look of concern on Luke's face and added, "Don't give it a moment's thought, Luke. This is a good thing."

"Very well, Milord." Luke nodded.

"Shall I return to the portcullis?" Adam asked.

"You can offer to relieve Castor and Emory for a time. After that, you're free until morning. Then you can return to your post." Nottingham said.

"Very well, Milord." Adam nodded.

A short time later the Sheriff was exiting the Dining Hall. He was surprised to see Ladies Meridwyn and Isabelle walking toward him.

"Funny how I keep running into you two." he remarked as they came closer toward him. He shook his head and frowned.

"Yes. We were looking for Rhiannon." Meridwyn said. "We knocked on the door of your private chambers, but she's not there."

"Surely, she's not sleeping? It's rather early for that." Isabelle said.

He knew then that she must be taking a bath. She was busy with target practice for much longer than was expected.

"Perhaps she stepped out of the chambers for awhile." he suggested.

"Perhaps. Maybe she's at the stables?" Isabelle wondered.

"Again?" Meridwyn asked.

"I don't suggest you go out there, ladies. There's a heavy rain falling." the Sheriff said.

"Indeed. Your hair is soaked." Meridwyn said.

"I just came in." he said.

"Oh. Will you be going back out there to look for her, Milord — "

"For heaven's sake, Isabelle." Meridwyn admonished. At this point she found it hard to stop herself whenever Isabelle addressed him formally.

Isabelle regarded her with a tight lipped frown and quirk of her brow.

"No. I'm sure she's somewhere inside. Even she wouldn't be out there alone this late, especially this late in the season. It's quite cold, and the rain is lashing. Perhaps she's in the library?" the Sheriff remarked.

"Right. Well, about that matter we wish to discuss with — " Meridwyn began, but was interrupted.

Just then, Gisborne came through the door of the Dining Hall carrying a tray.

"Curses … " Isabelle murmured.

The Sheriff heard it, despite her attempt to muffle her voice, and regarded the two of them curiously.

"Oh. Guy! I thought you were busy with something?" Meridwyn said, startled to see him.

"I came to get you the venison pies, my dear." he said.

"How sweet." she smiled.

"Do you think the chef would prepare something for me? I'd like to have something for Robert when he returns." Isabelle said.

"Of course. I'm sure it won't be a problem." Nottingham said. "But, where is Robert?" he asked as his eyebrow shot north.

"He's still in the armoury. He's working on something with Stephanus, and they have the Swordsmith assisting. I think he said the fellow's name is Eustace." she said.

"Interesting. Their workday finished hours ago."

"Yes. I don't know what it is. He just said they're working on something extra for you." Isabelle added.

"Alright. Well, come inside with me, Isabelle. I'll summon Jean Louis for you. A few of my men are finishing up in there." Nottingham said, nodding to the doors of the Dining Hall.

"Very well." Isabelle nodded.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow." Meridwyn said to Isabelle.

"Indeed." Isabelle smiled, wryly.

Nottingham couldn't help but notice the strange looks the ladies gave each other. Something was amiss with them, but he couldn't imagine what it was.

Lady Rhiannon was reclined against several pillows on the bed in the private chambers, reading from Lady Aelesia's journal. Since then she had read over what she last saw on Monday, nervous to press forward. Tonight she decided to read further into it. She thumbed through it until she got to the next page past where she left off. The last entry she looked at was dated February 17th. That one haunted her. The lady alluded to something sinister, and implied that it was caused by Osric. She couldn't imagine what it was, the lady was unclear. Perhaps she could get more information from newer entries? The next one didn't come for nearly two months. She wondered if something had happened? Was Lady Aelesia or her husband ill during that time? Rhiannon took in a breath, and dared to read…

"Monday, April 1st, 1157;

I am silently cursing over something I used to dream of… because I think there's a chance this is a nightmare instead.

It was two months ago today when I last bled. Thomas says I'm with child. Giles is very pleased. I'm not sure how pleased he would be if he knew the truth of it, because I've been stewing all of this time, still debating on what to tell him. How do I begin to tell him?

A curse on that… beast! I'll never give him the satisfaction, however."

Rhiannon's jaw fell open slightly as she took in what she just read. It was no wonder the lady hadn't written anything in so long. Based on this one and the entry before it, the lady basically implied that Osric had violated her, and now she was with child. The child was George! Why must so many men display such opprobrious behaviour?

"The way she described him… dark hair. Fiery eyes. She described George. Could… George and Sir Guy actually be… no. Don't get ahead of yourself." Rhiannon whispered, softly. She was shaken. She flipped the page to continue reading a little further. There were several lines crossed out -- more than once with a quill -- and then, she guessed a reference to Mortianna...

It's a double edged sword. She is a trusted soul whom steadfastly supports me, but I wish she didn't see this one in one of her visions -- or however she gathers her portents.

I've tried reaching out to Evie. She still remains silent! This is pure lunacy. The time shall soon come for my husband and I to announce our forthcoming child. I want her a part of my child's life, but I do not want… him to be anywhere near my child, nor myself -- yet, she is still consorting with him. Betrothed to him! This is an impossible situation. Am I to completely sever the ties with my sister because of that rotten sod? I despise him. Perhaps one day after I see him dead, I can have her back.

"Well, you must be at a gripping part of the story, my lady. Your mouth is agape." the Sheriff chuckled as he suddenly startled her.

"Yes. Indeed, my love." Rhiannon said as she closed the journal and the large book it was contained within. "But you're here now. Is the day done now, George?"

"It is, my lady. And, you? I assume you just stepped out of the tub. Your hair is wet." he observed.

"Of course. Immersion in the soothing hot water was exactly what was needed." she smiled, starting to arise from the bed.

"No, my lady. Stay there. You look too comfortable to disturb. The night has fallen. I will get the fire going. Even I can feel the chill coming through the window."

"I can guess why. Your hair is soaked through. Perhaps you should have a hot soak now, George?" a beat. "Who were you after this time?" Rhiannon smirked.

"No one, my lady. I was informing Gervase, the stable master that he must prepare to have a few horses saddled on Sunday morning." he looked downward briefly to conceal a grin, because he met with Gervase about another matter, as well.

"Oh? What's happening then?"

"Prince John has invited myself and some of my men for a stag hunt in Newerche, near to the property where he's staying. He suggests we need a reprieve for a few hours. I planned to decline the offer, but I'm taking Luke and Mordrid to see the bow craftsman in town after the hunt. And, I'm still deciding whether or not to bring Ancel with us. It would be good if he's skilled with a bow, but that remains to be seen."

"Oh. Bow craftsman — I assume you mean Samson Fingle?" Rhiannon asked, startling the Sheriff with her knowledge of him.

"You know of him?" the Sheriff asked with his eyebrow raised.

"Of course. I had met with him a couple of days before I met you, George." she said matter of factly.

"You did?"

"Yes. I asked him if he'd ever crafted a bow for a lady before. He said he had on two occasions. We were arranging to meet in a few days hence for him to craft me a bow, and set me up with a quiver of arrows. Alas, that never transpired. I met you two days after that, and then, well… we both know the rest." Rhiannon sighed.

"How did you hear about Fingle?"

"Through Matheus and Constancia Busby. I was speaking to them, asking if they knew of a good bow craftsman nearby. Matheus recommended Samson."

"I see."

"But… Who is Ancel?" she asked. "I've never heard you speak of him."

"You have, my lady, you just haven't heard me name him."

She quirked her eyebrow as she continued to gaze into his eyes.

"He's my newest recruit in the Black Knights." Nottingham said.

"Oh. The one you're waiting to hear from the Sheriff of Hampshire about?"

"Yes, my lady."

"Oh, I see." she said. "Will I be meeting this fellow sometime?"

"Of course, my lady. He's still in the trial phase of his duties, however. Yet, he's proving to be invaluable to us thus far."

"That's good to hear, my love." she said. She grabbed the goblet of water from the table beside her and sipped of it, trying to shake the thoughts creeping in of what she'd just read in Lady Aelesia's journal.

Perhaps I should just stop reading it now? Although, I'm curious to see what she wrote about George; and if there were any entries just prior to her death? No… now you're being morbid, Rhiannon. Curses! I should give this journal over to George. But… when? And… would he actually read it? Or, would he burn it? But, he must know! Curses!

"Rhiannon? What is it, my lady?" the Sheriff asked, curiously. Wondering what was distracting her.

"Nothing, my love. Just thinking I should get the fire going. It is you that has me worried. You must get out of those wet clothes. I shall ask the sentry to send for the servants to bring hot water to us." she said as she arose from the bed and stood before him.

"My angel, there's no need for you to do all of — "

"I'm perfectly capable, my Prince. You're too accustomed to seeing me enfeebled. Guess what? This is what I'm usually like." Rhiannon smirked with a knowing quirk of her brow.

"Oh, I know how capable you are. But, let me get the fire going so you'll be warm while I'm soaking." he said.

"Well, if you insist." she said as she kissed his cheek.

Next, she left him for a moment as she headed through the chamber doors then out into the den.

He began to make fire in the fireplace. The kindling was just being added to it when she returned to the room.

"The servants are being summoned as we speak, my love." Rhiannon smiled.

"Very good." he nodded, adding more kindling to the fire.

"George?"

"Yes, my lady?" he asked as he turned toward her.

"Is there… anything you've been wanting lately?"

"Oh. I can think of a few things." he chuckled.

"No, silly goose. I mean, like… for your wedding gift?"

"You are my gift, my angel." he smiled, then picked up a log from the large basket near the fireplace to place it upon the fire.

"I knew you'd say that." she sighed. "Can't you think of anything?"

"Not really, my lady. I have all I need, and want."

"Oh. Great."

"What about you?"

"I thought you said you've already taken care of that — on a couple of occasions?"

"I have. But, perhaps I should have asked if there's anything you desire?" he said as he stood and walked toward her.

"Well, sure. I can think of one thing." Rhiannon said.

"Of course, but you can have that anytime. Except, not too often right — "

"It seems strange to make a gift request on the occasion of your birthday, my love. Maybe I could tell you about it closer to Yule?"

"It is also our wedding day, my lady. A day we will both honour forever. If you have something in mind that would make you happy, then tell me."

"I should say a dagger of my own would be quite lovely!" Rhiannon blurted, excitedly.

"A… what, now?" the Sheriff asked, slowly.

"A dagger, George. Every lady should have one. You can't be present all of the time, and why shouldn't a lady be prepared to protect herself?" Rhiannon said, folding her arms.

"There are guards here at all times, Rhiannon." he pointed out.

"Of course, silly. But, what if they're busy? And, if you think I'm going to stay cooped up in here forever, even if you're away, you have another thing — "

"I would hope if I'm away you wouldn't be galavanting about on your own. Completely unaccompanied." he said as his eyebrow shot north.

"Of course, but a lady should be prepared at all times, George. If you're not here and the guards are otherwise engaged, then I will need to defend myself. I might need to protect myself, our child, and of course, Meridwyn and Isabelle. And, Meridwyn's baby, too."

"My angel, you've got this all figured out, haven't you?" he chuckled.

"Naturally. I'm no fool. Fools don't prepare."

"I doubt you'd be in a position to need to protect our whole family, as you so dramatically explained." he paused and looked into her pleading eyes. He sighed. "Very well, my angel. I will see what I can do." he smiled.

After she had her fill of a hearty bowl of soup, bread and cheese, Celestria managed to have another request granted. Father Tuttle reluctantly agreed to give her parchment, a quill and a jar of ink when she said she had one friend she wished to inform of her wellbeing.

"Don't stay up too late writing, dear girl. You're still recovering from that vile poisoning you endured." Father Tuttle cautioned her.

"Of course, Father. Do not fret. I shall pen this letter to my friend, and then I will return to my bed and rest." she nodded then turned toward the door.

"Celest?"

"Yes, Father?" she asked as she turned back toward him.

"Can you trust this friend of yours?"

"Yes. She is my closest friend."

"We can't have her disclosing your whereabouts to everyone around town. I'm endeavouring to keep you safe from harm, child. We cannot risk you being found." the Priest firmly advised.

"Of course, Father. I will just let her know that I'm safe, and I shall swear her to secrecy. It will be alright." she soothed.

"Very well. I shall help you up the stair — "

"No. I'm fine, Father. You get back to penning your sermon. I fear I've kept you long enough. I will be fine. I promise."

"Very well. Just call for me if you have any trouble ascending the stairs, child."

She smiled and left the room. After she closed the door behind her to give the Priest more privacy she tentatively walked toward the front door. Peering out of the window beside it she noticed the entry way outside of the door had a small roof over it, sheltering a couple of chairs. There was a heavy cloak on a hook by the door. She paused a moment while debating the matter, then sighed while she grabbed it and quietly exited the Priest's home.

She sat in one of the chairs placing the ink jar on the empty chair to the right of her and began to pen the letter by the light of the blazing torch ensconced on the wall outside of the door.

She managed to get three sentences on the parchment when she looked up at the sound of footsteps on the wet cobblestone path. A slender middle aged man with silver hair was approaching. As he moved closer he narrowed his gaze, and then his eyes widened in surprise.

"Well, hello, Miss. How pleasantly shocking to see you looking well! Shouldn't you be inside, though? You shouldn't be out here in this cold."

"Uhh… do I know you? Funny. You don't look familiar?"

"Ah, yes. Of course, you wouldn't remember me. I am Fladius. I'm the groundskeeper and caretaker of Father Tuttle's church. It was I who found you five days ago and brought you inside the church."

"Oh, I see. I thank you for that. I am… Celest." she said.

"It's good to formally meet you, Miss. I must get you inside now." he said.

"No, I'm fine. I have a warm dressing gown under this cloak. I'm warm enough. I need to pen this note to my friend. It's easier to do it here. Sister Isemay is sleeping on a chair in my room. I don't wish to disturb her." Celestria explained.

"I see."

"Were you coming to speak to Father Tuttle?" she asked.

"Aye."

"He is busy preparing his sermon."

"Oh. Well, I wouldn't want to disturb him." a beat. "Perhaps you could help me, then?"

"With what?" she asked, quite surprised at his suggestion — since he was a stranger to her.

He picked up the jar of ink and nodded to the empty chair beside her. "May I?"

She nodded and he took a seat beside her. He carefully placed the ink jar on the stone floor beside him on the right, off the path from the door in case the Priest made an unexpected appearance.

"Now, what could I possibly help you with?" she asked curiously.

"It was you I was coming to see Father Tuttle about, but, since you are… obviously improving, I could just ask you about it directly." he hinted. He pulled a flask from his cloak pocket, uncapped it and took a sip.

"I don't understand? Ask me… what, exactly?"

"Have you an aunt who… might be missing you, Miss?"

"Well, no. I have an uncle on father's side who is unmarried. The aunts I had on mother's side are long deceased. Why?" she pressed.

"I guess it is nothing, at least — pertaining to you." Fladius parried.

"You have me curious." she said.

"There was an unfamiliar lady in the Village in the afternoon. She was asking a lot of questions about her missing niece. I just thought perhaps you were the niece, since… well, I'm guessing no one knows you're here?"

"Aye. No one knows, but the person I'm penning this letter to shall know I'm alive and well. I have no aunt to speak of, Fladius." Celestria smiled.

"Rather concerning there is yet another missing maiden, however. I'd let the Sheriff know, but… who can trust him?"

"Indeed. Although, I'm sure the woman will inform the Sheriff if she hasn't already."

"I'm sure you're right, Celest." Fladius nodded. Then he took another sip from his flask and narrowed his eyes. "So, who is delivering this message for you?"

"I, uhh… honestly never thought that far ahead. I doubt Father Tuttle would deliver it once he knows where it's going. Sister Isemay wouldn't hear of it." Celestria sighed.

"Where is it going?" Fladius asked.

"What is in that flask of yours?"

"It's mead. Nothing a lady would — "

"May I have a sip, Fladius? I promise I have nothing you can catch from me." she smiled.

"Very well." he said as he passed the flask to her.

She took a long swill letting the liquid warm her throat then passed it back to him.

"Where is the letter going, Miss? Perhaps I could deliver it for you?" Fladius suggested.

"That would be grand — if you don't hesitate when I tell you the location."

"It's not too far from here, is it? I doubt Father Tuttle would be agreeable to me leaving for a time. Perhaps I could find you a messeng — "

"It's not far at all, Fladius. It's the brothel." Celestria stated, matter of factly.

"Oh, I don't know about that. It's bad enough that I secretly sip mead without Father Tuttle knowing. He would be most displeased if I went to the brothel, Miss." Fladius said, shaking his head.

"It will honestly work. You see the name of the maiden I'm penning this letter to?" Celestria asked while she showed the page to him.

"Well, yes."

"Go there and ask for her. You shall pretend to be a client in order to see her. Hand her the note, wait there for her to pen a quick reply, then bring it to me." Celestria said.

"The brothel? I've never been there my entire life. It doesn't feel right, Miss. My Mildred would turn in her grave if she knew I was even near it." Fladius sighed while shaking his head. Then he removed the cap from his flask and took a generous swig of the mead to calm him.

"It will be fine. You're only there to deliver this message. She will be most grateful once she reads it."

"Will I need to pay the lass… for my time, I mean?"

"No. Not unless… you request a service from her."

"Couldn't I just hand it off to someone to give it to your friend? Instead of going inside?" Fladius fervently suggested.

"The Madam would most likely be answering the door. She would either intercept it, or have endless questions for my friend. Only my friend can know about this letter. People are nosy in there. So nosy that my friend will be instructed to burn it after reading." Celestria explained.

"I would prefer it if I could just hand the note to her in the entryway, Miss. Look. I'm certainly not perfect, but I'm a… relatively pious person. I wouldn't be in the employ of the church if I wasn't. I won't go to her quarters." Fladius whispered, firmly.

"You must be discreet!" Celestria exclaimed. She took in a breath and lowered her voice. "I know better what the response will be if you do that. Madam Birghiva, and any of the women who might be near to the door will have more questions for my friend than if you acted like a client and just passed it to her in her room." Celestria insisted.

"I see." Fladius sighed as he tugged at the collar of his cloak and the tunic beneath it. "More mead, Miss?" he asked as he passed the flask to her.

"Indeed. I am most grateful." Celestria smiled as she took it from him. She took two more generous swigs from it then narrowed her eyes upon him. "So, you will do as I ask?"

"It's against my better judgement, but… yes." Fladius sighed.

"Good. It's the best way." she nodded.

"You won't say anything about the mead to Father Tuttle, will you? I don't partake of it to lose myself. It relaxes my tender muscles after a long day." Fladius explained.

"Deliver this message as I instructed and my lips will be sealed. I won't tell him about the mead, and you won't tell him I sent you to the brothel to deliver this message. Will that be agreeable?" she asked while passing the flask back to him.

"Very well, Miss. Agreed." Fladius nodded. "I'd prefer to preserve anonymity. Any suggestions how I can achieve it? I'm sure your… Madam lady doesn't just let anyone in?"

"True. And, you're not known to anyone there. Word of mouth and repeat clients are what keeps the business going. You could say you're a friend of one of the clients."

"Oh, good. Whom?"

"Just start with that. If Madam Birghiva asks for a name, tell her Lord Rothwell recommended you pay a visit. If he's there he'll be too busy to see a thing. Trust me." she raised her eyebrow in a knowing glance.

"Very well. When would you like it delivered? It's getting rather late at the moment."

"Aye. She'll probably be occupied anyway. Friday nights are a busy time. On the morrow?"

"That is fine."

"Make it afternoon. She often sleeps late on Saturdays."

"As you wish, Miss."

It was well after dusk, but the men were unaware since they were too engrossed in their tasks, as well as the lack of windows in the armoury. The heat was intense from the fire used to forge the armour, and a sword that Eustace Bromley was working on.

They had completed six shields now. Robert was satisfied with the progress, pleased it had taken less time than he'd anticipated.

"What do you think, Robert? Is this satisfactory?" Eustace asked.

"Yes. They're finely forged and equal in size and weight. Not too heavy to hold, yet effective." he nodded.

Stephanus reached over to touch one, then gently took it from Robert to note the weight of it. "I think these will do just fine, men." he smiled then passed it back to Robert.

"We should test them again to be certain of their durability." Robert said. "We must be certain they'd offer good protection for the Sheriff and his men."

"Right. I'll get the testing sword, Robert." Eustace nodded. He turned from them and was about to step away, when Stephanus spoke. He turned back around, his curiosity piqued.

"Speaking of protection and durability, there's something else I've been working on for the Sheriff and his men. I fear if I continue the task alone he'll be waiting until his tenth wedding anniversary for it." Stephanus sighed, shaking his head.

"Besides the shields? You're going to have us busy until Yule as it is with the large order of shields the Sheriff requested." Eustace huffed.

"Not necessarily, Eustace. We've made six shields in record time already." Robert reminded him. He looked to Stephanus. "Alright, Stephanus. What is this other project you're eager about?"

"I was working on them before I lost my sight. It's work that requires a keen eye and precision." he paused as the men regarded him curiously. He sighed. "I was just starting to fashion new chain mail hauberks, and hoods to be worn under their helms."

"Those haven't been needed in three years. There's no war in progress — unless I missed news about it?" Eustace sneered.

"Right. And, were we expecting that cursed incursion to happen, Eustace? There was no warning, suddenly Robin Hood had a whole colony of combatants at his side, didn't he? War can happen at any time. Chain mail is good defence against most weapons." Stephanus said firmly, folding his arms.

"That is true, Stephanus. It does serve as a good layer of protection. It also takes a lot of time to craft." Robert said.

"Well, why do we need them, anyway? We have the old version available from three years past?" Eustace asked.

"On the newer ones I've riveted the rings using a four to one pattern. As you can imagine, such a task would be nearly impossible for me to complete now. I'm certain I could do it — but it would take me forever." Stephanus explained.

"I see. Have you an example to show us?" Robert asked.

"Yes. It's on a table in the back room. Hand me my walking stick. I shall retrieve it."

Robert turned and grabbed the walking stick that Stephanus used to feel his surroundings with while walking. Stephanus took it and made his way towards a room in back of them about ten feet away from where they stood.

"Robert, you can't be serious?" Eustace whispered. "Look, I'm sure it's good quality — what he has so far, but, we aren't afforded the time. We must finish the order for the shields, and we have Diego Florez coming with a steel shipment on the fifth. The Sheriff always wants new swords forged after Diego shows up."

"Let's just take a look at it. We could present it to the Sheriff and go from there. He can decide whether he would like us to move forward with it, and when — if he decides to proceed." Robert said, keeping his voice lowered.

"Very well." Eustace relented.

Just then the sound of the stick tapping followed by his boots clicking along the stone floor interrupted them.

Stephanus returned carrying the almost completed chain mail hauberk. He reached the table in front of them, felt around for an empty area on it and carefully placed the hauberk there.

"This is what I have thus far. As you can see, it is only three quarters of the way completed." Stephanus frowned, still angry with himself for not finishing it before he became completely blind.

"It's very fine work, Stephanus. The four to one pattern works well." Robert said as he held it up to get a closer look."

"Ah. I see what you did there. Some rings are solid but most are riveted. Nice!" Eustace smiled.

"Steel mixed in with iron rings, too. Very well thought out, Stephanus." Robert said.

"Once we get the shipment from Spain we could consider doing all steel rings. For at least one of them, anyway. The steel would be better for the hoods, as well." Stephanus suggested.

"Is there a hood completed, Stephanus? You mentioned you were working on both the hauberk and a hood." Eustace asked.

"No. I've only actually worked on the hauberk. I have drawings and specific measurements regarding the gauge and number of rings needed noted on parchment." Stephanus said.

"Very good, Stephanus. I suggest we meet with the Sheriff. This time you should be there. I want the drawing and written measurements for the hood, and this hauberk to show the Sheriff. From there, he can decide if and when he wishes to proceed with them. Fair?" Robert asked.

"It would be better if I had the hauberk completed to show him."

"It's not going to get completed fast enough. Robert is right. Let's show him what you've worked on so far and see what he has to say." Eustace suggested.

"Very well." Stephanus nodded.

"Good. I'll arrange a meeting with him." Robert said, then turned to the Swordsmith. "Now, Eustace, go fetch that testing sword so we can assess the durability of these shields once more."

It was mid morning on Saturday when the Sheriff was meeting with Ancel in the Council Quarters. Ancel had just arrived and the two took a seat at the large oak meeting table.

"What is it you wish to see me about, Milord Sheriff?" Ancel asked.

"I need you to accompany Luke and Drake tonight." Nottingham said.

"Very well. Where am I accompanying them to?"

"The tavern."

"Oh. Right. Are we expecting some trouble there? Or, am I to mind the lads as they imbibe?" Ancel asked, hiding a chuckle.

"There shall be no imbibing. Just pretending to partake. And, that is only if he is there."

"If who is there, Milord?" Ancel asked with a quirk of his brow.

"That is the thing, Ancel. We don't know who he is. Luke, Drake, and Adam saw him last night. Drake spoke to him and the man acted suspiciously, as if he was hiding his identity. I'm sending you three because Drake will know him, and if the man was reacting because he recognized Drake and Adam as Black Knights, then it's best to send you and Luke along with him, since you two are the newest recruits. There's a good chance the man won't know that you two work for me." Nottingham explained.

"Understood, Milord." Ancel nodded.

"Drake will fill you in more on his observations."

"Very well. What are we to do with the man? Is he to be detained and brought to you?"

"No. Only if his actions tonight warrant it. You're to keep his mug filled and get him talking. The man is hiding something. The lads think he might be a person of interest to us and I tend to think they're right. Non criminals don't act that way." Nottingham said with a knowing quirk of his brow.

"Indeed, Milord." Ancel agreed.

"Now. A question for you." Nottingham began, changing the topic.

"Very well. What would you like to know?" Ancel asked.

"How skilled are you with a bow?"

"I can handle them well, Milord. I use it for hunting. I haven't used it in battle, but if needed I could."

"Very good. With some training, would you consider using it for fighting if needs be?"

"Yes, Milord." Ancel nodded.

"Perfect. Then I have three archers. That is good, Ancel. Tomorrow you shall accompany myself, Luke, and Mordrid on a stag hunt in Newerche with Prince John. After that we will all be meeting someone in the Village."

"As you wish, Milord. I shall be pleased to join you."

"Good. Now, regarding tonight, I've instructed Luke and Drake to conduct a limited search if the man isn't at the tavern. Don't spend too much time searching because tomorrow comes early. It's not that pressing. And, you know what to do if he shows."

"Of course, Milord. We feign drinking, keep his mug filled, and get him talking. Hopefully his mask will slip and he'll reveal his intentions." Ancel nodded.

"Precisely." Nottingham agreed. He sat back in the chair and folded his arms. "You didn't happen to run into Rebeccah on your way down here did you?"

"No, Milord."

"You haven't seen her outside of her chambers again?" he pressed.

"No, Milord. I returned her there yesterday, and haven't seen her again since. But… you were going to speak to her, weren't you?"

"I did. Yes. I reviewed the rules with her. Just inform me if you should happen to notice her wandering about again." he directed.

"I will, Milord." Ancel agreed.

"And get her back inside her rooms if you see her."

"It will be done, Milord. And what would you have me do before accompanying the lads to the tavern?"

"Guard the stables."

"Very well, Milord." Ancel nodded. Then he arose from his seat and left to carry out the task.

Lady Rhiannon was seated at the table with the mirror in the private chambers, staring at her reflection, and contemplating what precisely she was going to do about her hair on her wedding day. She brushed it yet again then held it with her hands, half arranging it on top of her head. She knew she wanted it fashioned off her shoulders, most likely up on her head, but was uncertain how she could make it appear special from her usual off the shoulder styles. She sighed and let it fall again, then fashioned it in a braid, tying it with a green ribbon to match her emerald green cotton and wool blend gown. Just as she finished it there was a knock on the door of the den.

"You have company, Milady." the sentry outside of the door said when she opened the door to answer.

"Oh? Where then, the Council Quarters?"

"No, silly! It is us." Isabelle said as she and Lady Meridwyn moved into her line of vision.

"Did we catch you at a bad time, Rhi?" Meridwyn asked.

"No, not at all. I was just trying to decide what exactly to do with my hair on the day of the nuptials. Nothing exciting. Won't you come in? I'll need to tend to the fire, though. I fear there's only embers burn — "

"No, honey. No time for that. Perhaps following our appointment we could." Meridwyn said.

"What appointment?"

"Oh, you haven't heard?" Isabelle inquired.

"Heard what?"

Just then the Page appeared at the door.

"What is it?" the sentry asked.

"I'm to relay a message to the Sheriff's lady." the young lad replied.

"Yes, Page. What is it?" Rhiannon asked.

"The seamstress lady… uh, Ma damn Overrun? Aye… something like that. Right. She wishes to see you, Milady." the young lad stammered.

Isabelle covered her mouth to stifle a giggle and looked to the floor.

Meridwyn couldn't help but join in and looked away, quietly chuckling.

"Are you bloody serious, boy? You've obviously got that wrong! What in the devil manner of name — " the sentry's admonishment to the boy was interrupted.

"I see." Rhiannon said. She looked to her friends. "The appointment you mentioned?"

"Indeed." Meridwyn nodded.

The sentry was stunned that Lady Rhiannon knew whom the Page was referring to.

"Thank you, Page." Rhiannon said.

The boy nodded.

"That can't be her actual name, is it?" the sentry asked.

"It's Madame Oberon." Isabelle said.

"Ma damn Overrun. Really lad? You either need your ears cleaned out, or to cease daydreaming!" the guard huffed at the Page while shaking his head.

"Aye." the boy nodded then took his leave.

"Alright, ladies. Just give me one moment." Rhiannon said as she went back inside the rooms.

The ladies looked at her strangely, then look at one another and shrugged.

In moments she reappeared. Lady Rhiannon closed the door behind her and the three of them headed down the corridor to meet with the seamstress.

Madam Oberon was smiling when she greeted them at her door. Her shiny silver hair was fashioned in a perfectly coifed chignon, and her pale blue eyes sparkled as she spoke in her pleasing, mellifluous voice.

"Ah! Bonjour, mes chers! Do come in! I've a treat for you all this day." Madam Oberon smiled cheerfully as she held the door wide.

"Isn't this about the gowns, Madame?" Rhiannon asked as she led her sisters inside.

"Oui. But, it's more than that, too! Now, off you go into the salon. We're going to have a lovely time of it while you see your completed gowns." the seamstress smiled, closing the door.

The ladies were curious and eager to find out what Madam Oberon had planned. They followed her directive and headed into the sitting room, with Madam Oberon following close behind them.

The Sheriff was just closing the door of the Council Quarters when he noticed the Scribe approaching.

"Yes, Scribe. What is it?"

"A message just arrived for you, Milord." the Scribe said as he pulled a small scroll from his pocket.

The Sheriff took it, unfurled it and began to read it.

"I hope it's not bad news, Milord?"

"No. A new staff member is arriving here tomorrow to commence her duties." he said.

"Good news indeed, Milord."

"Yes. Summon Gerad for me. I'm going to send him there to bring her here." he instructed.

"Very well." the Scribe nodded, then he left to carry out the task.

After the Scribe left, Robert suddenly appeared.

"Oh good! I'm glad I found you." Robert said when he drew nearer to him.

"Shouldn't you be with your lady? It's your day off, Robert."

"She's busy. She's headed for another gown fitting, along with Lady Meridwyn and Rhiannon." Robert replied.

"Again? Didn't they just do that?"

"Yes, not too long ago. But, you know how ladies are. I imagine the seamstress strives for perfection, and the ladies want to look a certain way. It is a notable occasion, after all."

"Right. I suppose that makes sense — sort of. What was it you needed to see me about?"

"Stephanus and I request a meeting with you, Milord. Are you occupied for the entire day?" Robert asked.

"Nothing too pressing today. I shall be busy until the afternoon, however. Need to brush up on my bow skills before tomorrow's stag hunt." he said with a knowing glance.

"Oh. So you've decided to go, then? That's good. Some fresh air and activity will do you some good."

"Indeed. What's this about? Is something amiss with Stephanus? He's not in a bad way, is he?"

"Oh, no. Nothing like that. He's managing quite well, Notty." Robert whispered with a smirk.

"Indeed. And, don't get too comfortable tossing that name about." he sighed, shaking his head. "Can you at least hint at what this is about?"

"Something that Stephanus was working on for you before he lost his sight. It's not quite completed, but I can say this about it: it's very fine work." Robert said.

"Really? My. He's been quite ambitious."

"Indeed. We wish to show it to you. You may want to see the project through to completion, but we didn't want to go ahead with that until speaking with you first." Robert explained.

"Oh. I take it Stephanus couldn't just complete whatever it is and then show me?"

"No. Well, he is still quite capable and gets on rather well, despite his condition. He said he could do it, but if he did he wouldn't have it ready until your tenth wedding anniversary." Robert grinned.

"I see. Sounds rather complicated. Not a new sword, then?" a beat. "Oh, that's right. Diego will be here on Wednesday with a fresh steel shipment. No new swords until then."

"No, nothing like that. When would be a good time for you?"

"Let's make it mid afternoon. That should give me enough time to do what I must with target practice."

"Very well. We will see you then. Here? The Council Quarters?"

"Indeed. Should I have Guy and the Captain join us?" Nottingham asked.

"Yes. A good idea." Robert said.

"Good. Get word to Stephanus and inform him of the meeting time."

"Very well." Robert nodded then took his leave.

No sooner than Robert left him, Gerad was there answering his summons.

"You wished to see me, Milord?"

"Yes. Come inside. There's too many… people out here." Nottingham said.

He turned around and opened the door of the Council Quarters, then quickly shut it once Gerad followed him inside.

"How can I assist you, Milord?" Gerad asked.

"We have a new staff member arriving tomorrow. You will bring her here." the Sheriff said.

"Oh. Alright. Where am I going to fetch her, Milord?"

"The brothel." he said, simply.

"The… which, Milord?" Gerad asked, incredulously.

"She's currently employed there, but now she shall be working here."

"I see."

"As the assistant to Madam Oberon, the Seamstress." Nottingham said firmly.

"Oh. Very well."

"Take the carriage with you. She will be bringing her things with her. She shall be staying in the room next to Madam Oberon."

"Very well. Any specific time?"

"Go to the stables in the morning. That's when myself, Luke, Mordrid, and Ancel will be there. We will be heading to Newerche."

"Oh, yes. The stag hunt." Gerad nodded.

"Yes, but it's more than just a stag hunt. I'll fill you in another time."

"Very well. Who is this maiden I'm picking up, Milord?" Gerad asked.

"Her name is Floria. Normally I'd send Luke to escort her, but he'll be occupied." a beat. "She took a shine to him when he brought her here to meet with me and Madam Oberon." he said with a knowing glance.

"Oh. That's rather interesting." Gerad scoffed. His vivid blue eyes twinkled.

"Is it? More like a disaster, Gerad. And, don't you be getting any ideas either!" he warned.

"Very well, Milord. I shall see you at the stables in the morning." Gerad nodded.

The ladies were surprised when Madam Oberon brought some tea to them as they sat comfortably on a velvet covered sofa.

"Madame? How is the tea still steaming? I don't see any servants about and we didn't pass one in the corridor?" Rhiannon asked.

"I take care of my own tea, mon cher. I do have a fireplace!" Madam Oberon chuckled as she pointed to it.

"Oh. Intriguing."

"I did have sweets brought to the room for you ladies, though. Well, more than just a few sweets… "

"Grand! But, how did you manage that? Did you ask the Sheriff to send for them?" Meridwyn asked as she took a sip of the tea.

"I met the chef in passing the other day. Imagine that? I asked if he would have un problème with my making a request of him on occasion. He smiled and said he'd be pleased to honour my requests, as long as they wouldn't require much work." Madam Oberon explained.

"How delightful!" Isabelle smiled.

"Oui." Madam Oberon grinned. "Now, forgive me, mes chers. Normally I'd serve wine or some other manner of spirit, but I know Mademoiselle Rhiannon and Dame Meridwyn would prefer to refrain just now."

"Indeed. I appreciate that, Madam." Meridwyn said.

"As do I." Rhiannon agreed, sipping of her tea.

"Bon!"

"Are you two going to abstain on the occasion of the wedding?" Isabelle asked the ladies.

"I shall enjoy a small measure of wine at the wedding feast." Rhiannon said.

"Yes. As will I. I'm usually rigid with it, but… well, how else will we tolerate the minstrels, the jugglers, and god only knows what other manner of entertainment? Some of it can be quite boorish at times." Meridwyn sighed.

"Especially if there's puppeteers there. I grew out of that at least a hundred and a quarter moons ago." Rhiannon added.

"Mon Dieu." Madam Oberon muttered.

"I suppose you're right. That is good. I'll feel better about celebrating if you ladies enjoy some of the wine, too." Isabelle smiled.

"Very good, mes chers. Now, excuse moi un instant." Madam Oberon said as she stepped away.

"Marie! Viens ici" the seamstress called out.

In moments Madam Oberon's daughter appeared.

"Oui, Maman?"

"Apportez-moi les robes, ma fille." Madam Oberon instructed. (bring me the gowns, daughter)

"Comme tu veux, maman." Marie nodded. (as you wish, mother)

"On va commencer les raccords. Après cela, vous apporterez les autres éléments dont nous avons parlé plus tôt." (We'll start on the fittings. After that you shall bring out the other items we spoke of earlier.)

Marie nodded again with a knowing smile then turned to carry out the task.

Madam Oberon returned to her guests. "Now, let me get the traite pour vous!" she smiled then moved toward a table by the fireplace. (treats for you)

"The which, Madam?" Meridwyn asked.

"Oui. Pardonne-moi. I said I will get the treats for you."

"Oh, yes! Please do, Madam." Isabelle smiled.

"Indeed." Meridwyn sighed.

"Just don't take too much, Meridwyn. You want to be able to fit into your gown in ten days time." Rhiannon giggled.

"How come you don't seem to have cravings?" Meridwyn asked.

"Maybe it's because I'm having a boy and you're not? I'm not sure." Rhiannon shrugged.

"Oh. So, you think I'm having a girl, too?"

"I just know I'm having a boy. I always knew my first child would be a son. I've no idea why I don't think of food incessantly, dearest. It was just an idea."

"I see." Meridwyn nodded.

Isabelle set her cup of tea on the table as she began to cough.

"Are you alright, Sister?" Rhiannon asked.

"Yes, my dear." Isabelle said. She held a handkerchief to her mouth and coughed one more time. "I think my tea went down funny, or something. Into the wrong place. All is well." Isabelle nodded. In truth she was stunned at what Rhiannon had just said about her first child being a son. She was certainly right about that, because her first child is a son.

"Here we are, mes chers!" Madam Oberon, suddenly appearing before them. For, she moved quietly. She set the tray on the table before them.

"Merci, Madame." Rhiannon smiled.

"Marie shall be here soon with the gowns."

"Oh. That reminds me. I've brought mine, too." Meridwyn said. She arose from her seat, remembering she had placed it on a table by the door when they walked inside.

"Oh. Do I need to alter it, mon cher?"

"No. But, we're dressing in your quarters on that day, are we not, Madam Oberon?" Meridwyn asked.

"Ah! Oui. That is good. After the ladies have tried on their gowns I shall store the three of them together."

As Meridwyn was returning to them with the covered gown draped over her arm, Marie entered into the sitting room carrying the gowns. They were covered by a large cotton sheet of fabric.

""Ah! Here they are now!" Madam Oberon smiled.

Marie passed the bundle to her and Madam Oberon deftly removed the cloth, then placed each gown over two chairs and invited the ladies to get a closer look at them.

"Oh, Madame Oberon. Ils sont vraiment époustouflants!" Rhiannon exclaimed. (they're truly stunning)

"Beautiful!" Meridwyn agreed.

"Sublime!" Isabelle sighed.

"Are you ladies ready to try them on?" Madam Oberon asked.

"Oui, Madame." Rhiannon said.

"Yes. I'm excited and nervous all at once." Isabelle nodded.

"You can both try them on together. I have two separate dressing areas in the back. Marie shall assist me should we need to make any adjustments." the seamstress said.

"Very well." Rhiannon nodded.

"Wait. Just one thing I'd like to mention." Isabelle began.

"What is it?" Rhiannon asked.

"I should say I'd like to see Meridwyn's gown. I don't think either of us have seen it, Sister?"

"You're right. I haven't seen it either. Not that it matters. I'm sure it's exquisite." Rhiannon said.

"I don't mind. Just don't ask me to try it on again. Today belongs to you both." Meridwyn said.

"Actually, mon cher, it's been awhile since our last fitting. Perhaps we should make sure the fit is perfect." Madam Oberon said. "The day draws nearer and you want to look your best, don't you?"

"Yes, it's in ten days time. She's right, Meridwyn." Isabelle chimed in.

Rhiannon regarded Meridwyn with a nod of encouragement.

"Very well. But not until you two have tried on yours." Meridwyn agreed.

"C'est bon! Then it's all settled. Alright ladies. Let's get you to the back room and get started." Madam Oberon said. She carefully picked up the gowns and led the ladies to the fitting area.

Madam Birghiva was surprised when she answered the knock on the door, just after midday. She quirked her brow curiously, then narrowed her amber eyes on the strange man on her doorstep.

"How can I help you?" she asked.

"Yes. I'm here to see… Gelldred." Fladius said. He then looked downcast, still keeping the hood of his cloak up.

"And, whom might you be, then? You've never visited us before."

"A friend of mine recommended her to me. Indeed, it's my first time visiting this… establishment, Miss."

"Madam Birghiva. At your service. You may enter." she said as she held the door open and beckoned him inside.

He was startled by her appearance. The Madam wore a gown that was orange and red in colour. It seemed to match with her bright red hair. He'd never seen a lady dressed similarly. She had some sort of indistinguishable colour added to her cheeks and lips. Fladius couldn't imagine how she achieved that.

"Thank you." he said as he stepped inside. He stood near to the door as the Madam closed it, with his hands clasped in front of him.

"I shall summon her for you." Madam Birghiva said. She proceeded to ascend the stairs.

It felt like ages to Fladius who was uncomfortable being there; but, in fact, it was only moments before she returned to him as Gelldred stood on the lower risers of the stairs.

"Hello. I am Gelldred." the golden red haired maiden said to him.

"Good day, Miss." he nodded.

"Well, no need to be bashful! Come. I will lead the way." Gelldred said. She held out her hand in a beckoning gesture.

He nodded and headed toward the steps.

"Just a moment. You mind telling me who referred you to us?" Madam Birghiva asked. Her eyebrow quirked, suspiciously.

He turned around to face her, then looked toward the floor. "Lord Rothwell." he said. He swallowed, dryly.

"I see. Very well. Continue then. God knows he gives us more business than any other gentleman in the shire. A real denizen of my establishment." Madam Birghiva sighed.

"Indeed." Fladius nodded.

Once the door of her quarters was closed behind them Gelldred turned to face him.

"Alright. It's a little early in the day for me, but, no matter. What can I do to please you, Sir?" Gelldred said as she reached out attempting to remove his cloak, while fluttering her long lashes, coyly at him.

"Nothing, Miss. Thats not why I'm here." Fladius stated as he moved back from her.

"What? You want me to sing for you, or something? A foot massage, perhaps?"

Fladius was stunned, but managed to conceal a gasp.

"Heavens, no. No, Miss. Nothing of the sort. I'm here to deliver a message to you." Fladius said.

"Why couldn't you just have left it with Madam Birghiva, then?" Gelldred asked, shaking her head.

"You shall see when you read it." he said. He reached into the pocket of his cloak and passed her a folded parchment.

She took it from him, unfolded it and began to read.

"Friday, October 31st, 1197

Gelldred;

It is I, Celestria. I am well. No one is to know this. Not even Madam Birghiva.

I need to get away from here, but I require some of my things: a couple of gowns, my hairbrush, my dagger -- which is on the table beside my bed, and certainly my bag. I shall need my money, which is inside there.

Where can me meet? I cannot return to the brothel.

By the way, this man who has given you this note thinks my name is Celest. He is instructed to await your written reply and bring it to me. And, you are instructed to burn this note upon reading it. No one is to know you've heard from me! I am insistent on that. I shall tell you more when we meet.

Fondly,

Celestria."

Gelldred drew in a long breath then looked up at the man before her.

"Is it true? She is well?"

"Indeed, Miss. She's had a time of it, but she's faring quite well now. She will tell you more." Fladius nodded.

"Very well. Take a seat while I pen a reply. I won't be long." Gelldred said, indicating a chair beside the bed.

Fladius nodded and moved to the chair. As he seated himself he hoped the maiden wouldn't tarry. He was eager to leave this place.

To distract himself he decided he would make a quick stop at the market before returning to his quarters — a small structure located between the church and Father Tuttle's home.

Nottingham had arrived to the wooded area beyond the maze of gardens in back of the castle. He was carrying a weapons chest with him which he'd commissioned Gervase to make for him. Besides being the stable master, the man was also a carpenter. He was the logical choice as the Sheriff didn't want to ask Guy to do it for a number of reasons.

He arrived at the spot where she told him she kept her bow and quiver of arrows. After a few minutes he uncovered them as they were blanketed by leaves and twigs, underneath some bushes beside a tree. He moved them, brushing the leaves from the bow and the quiver, and levelling the ground where it had rested. Next, he moved the chest there where it would still be concealed by the bushes and low hanging tree branches. He opened it, took his own longbow and quiver of arrows out, replacing it with Rhiannon's. He found her stuffed target, secured it to the tree she used for target practice, then set to work. It had been a long while since he'd used his bow. It was best he kept his skills up to date.

In Madam Oberon's quarters, Ladies Rhiannon and Isabelle stood before the floor length mirror. The seamstress and her daughter were on one side of them, with Lady Meridwyn on the other.

"It's perfect, Madame. Merci beaucoup." Rhiannon turned toward Madam Oberon and smiled. They both are!"

"Indeed. The addition of the lace really made a difference to mine. But, I love this skirt." Isabelle smiled as she slowly twirled, examining it in the reflection of the mirror.

"For heaven's sake, Isabelle. We told you not to touch it. It was perfect as it was." Meridwyn pointed out.

"And, I told you I'm not accustomed to so much… colour. Hmm, now I can't decide." Isabelle mused.

Madam Oberon looked to her daughter.

"Qu'en penses-tu Marie ? L'ajustement est-il satisfaisant avec chaque robe?" (what do you think, Marie? Is the fit satisfactory with each gown?)

Marie stepped forward and turned to face the ladies, narrowing her blue eyes as she studied the gowns.

""Celui-ci est peut-être un peu trop long et trop large dans le corsage." Marie said to her mother while nodding to Isabelle's gown. (This one might be a bit too long, and too large in the bodice.)

"What is it?" Isabelle asked.

"I asked my daughter to give her opinion on the fit of your gowns. She says yours may be too long, and too large in the bodice." Madam Oberon said as she gently turned Isabelle around then stepped back from her, studying her work.

"Yes. I think she's right." Rhiannon said. She looked to Marie then. "Je suis d'accord." (I agree.)

Marie nodded with a smile.

"Come away from the mirror now, mon cher. I must make a couple of adjustments." Madam Oberon said to Isabelle, then she looked toward her daughter. "Passe-moi les épingles, mon cher. Là, sur la table près du miroir" (Pass me the pins, my dear. There, on the table by the mirror.)

Marie turned to her left and grabbed the small container of pins from the table beside the mirror, then walked over to her mother, handing them to her. As Madam Oberon was occupied with pinning Isabelle's gown, Marie returned to her place.

"Je vois que tu parles couramment maintenant." the young maid remarked to Rhiannon. (I see you're fluent now.)

"Pas encore tout à fait." Rhiannon smiled. (not quite yet.)

"C'est sympa de parler enfin avec toi." (It's nice to be finally speaking with you.)

Meridwyn looked over at them, curious what they were speaking about.

"En effet. Mais, peut-être qu'il est temps que vous appreniez un peu d'anglais maintenant?" Rhiannon said with a quirk of her brow. (Indeed. But, perhaps its time you learned some english now?)

"C'est difficile?" Marie asked. (Is it difficult?)

"Non. Et cela vous servira mieux dans ce pays, Marie." Rhiannon smiled. (No. And it will serve you better in this country, Marie.)

"Alright, What are you two chatting about?" Meridwyn interrupted them.

"Marie commented that I am fluent now… in French. I disagreed, but told her she should learn English as it will serve her better here."

"I'd agree with that." Meridwyn nodded.

"Mon ami est d'accord que vous devriez apprendre l'anglais." Rhiannon said to Marie. (My friend agrees you should learn English)

"j'y penserai." Marie nodded.

"What's that?" Meridwyn asked.

"I told her you agreed that she should learn it. She says she'll think about it."

"Oh. Yes. I see." Meridwyn nodded.

"That is better. Oui! Now turn and look in the mirror again, mon cher." Madam Oberon said to Isabelle.

Isabelle followed her directive and was pleased with the result.

"The fit is so much better, Madame." Isabelle agreed.

Marie nodded to her mother indicating it was an improvement.

"Much better! Now you won't be tripping on your skirt, and the fit across the top is much improved." Meridwyn agreed.

"Yes, it's perfect." Rhiannon said.

"Bon! Now, Dame Meridwyn, it's your turn, mon cher." Madam Oberon smiled.

"Now?"

"No time like the present. Come. Let's get you changed out of your gown and into the new one. I must be assured the fit is still perfect."

"Very well." Meridwyn nodded.

Madam Oberon then grabbed Meridwyn's gown and lead her to the back room.

Soon after the curious silver haired gentleman left, Gelldred was descending the stairs. Madam Birghiva was passing by when she saw her. She thought she detected some unease with the girl.

"How did it go with the new one, Gelldred?"

"Oh, it was fine, Madam. Just fine." Gelldred said absently as she took the last step. She looked down towards the floor.

"You sure? You seem rather… quiet and distracted. Very unlike you. He didn't try anything funny, did he?" Madam Birghiva asked, her amber eyes narrowed suspiciously. She cupped the maiden's face in her hand, lifting her chin and gently turning her face left to right, inspecting for signs of injury.

"I'm fine, Madam Birghiva. Truly. He didn't hurt me, I assure you." Gelldred said.

"That is good. We can't have men like that frequenting the place. This is what other Madams in the business permit, but I will not. Not ever. Safety is crucial."

"It's not like you could do anything about it if a problem presented." Gelldred challenged.

"That's what you think, Missy. I've been known to use my dagger on occasion. I've been recently considering employing security, as well."

"That would fetch a pretty penny."

"Business is faring well." Madam Birghiva smiled.

Just then Floria came bounding down the stairs.

"All packed, Missy?" Madam Birghiva asked.

"Yes, Madam. I shall leave for the castle on the morrow. I sent word to the Sheriff I'd be coming."

"Very well. Feel up to one last encounter? You-know-who has asked for you tonight. Actually…" Madam Birghiva quirked her brow as she regarded both of them. "He wants both of you."

"What? But, I can't tonight, Madam. The gentlemen who just left said he may need my company this evening." Gelldred said.

"Again? Twice in one day?" Madam Birghiva asked as her brow quirked suspiciously.

"We didn't actually do anything earlier, Madam. The man is lonesome. I think he might be widowed." Gelldred explained.

"You're jesting! So, what… he paid you to talk with him, or something?" Floria asked.

"Well, yes. That's basically all we did." Gelldred replied, then looked downcast.

"You're not meant to be their confidante, Missy. You're there to perform. Conversing too much leads to attachment. Rule number one — "

"I know, Madam. I felt sorry for him, truthfully. He seems harmless, and kind. It will be alright. He's too old for me to get attached to anyway." Gelldred said.

"Well, as long as you're comfortable with it I'll permit it. Just don't get too comfortable. Is he coming by here?"

"No. I'm to meet him."

"I don't like this, Gelldred. Not at all. Sounds like a trap." Madam Birghiva huffed.

"I will be meeting him before sundown, Madam. There's no need to fret."

"Very well, but only this once." the Madame sighed.

Gelldred nodded.

"Madam Birghiva? Isn't there another who could service Lord Rothwell? I'm really not up for this tonight." Floria explained.

Truthfully, she was done with pleasuring men. There was only one she wished to please, and she would remain faithful to him as long as it would take before they could be together, courting as real couples should.

"Tonight he has other plans, my dear. He was planning to take you girls out on the town." Madam Birghiva smiled with a knowing quirk of her brow.

"Oh, I see. So, it's fine for Floria to leave here tonight, but you were hesitant to permit me the same?" Gelldred questioned.

"Lord Rothwell has been frequenting here a long time. We're barely acquainted with this man who came to see you today. Do you even know his name?" Madam Birghiva asked while folding her arms.

"Well, no. I never got that far." Gelldred admitted.

"I see." the Madam sighed.

"Seriously? And you're planning to meet him later." Floria remarked with a shake of her head.

"It will be fine. He's a decent sort. I didn't even hear him use profanity. He's quite gentle, really." Gelldred said.

"You don't know the man, Gelldred." Madam Birghiva pointed out.

"True, but I can usually tell if they're off. And, he seems genuine." Gelldred assured her.

It was near mid afternoon when Fladius returned. He put the wares he had purchased at the market into his quarters before heading over to Father Tuttle's home. He hoped he would have a moment to speak to the recovering maiden without the Priest nearby. As he approached the manor, he was pleased to see her sitting on the chair outside of it, sipping from a cup.

"Oh. You've returned already." Celestria said.

"Yes. I followed your instructions and she penned you a note." Fladius said as he looked around. "Is Father Tuttle nearby?"

"He's inside, speaking to Sister Isemay."

"Good." he said. He reached into his pocket and took the note out of it, passing the folded parchment to Celestria.

She took it and began to read. After a few moments she looked up at him.

"Do you know this place Gelldred mentions?"

"I've passed by it on a few occasions. I know where it is."

"Good. Can you escort me there? You wouldn't need to come in. And I won't be long. I'd rather not walk and I doubt Father Tuttle would appreciate it if I took his horse to meet her."

"If that is your wish. I'd rather you not go on your own, either. I will take you there and then bring you back."

"Very good. Thank you."

Just then the door opened and Father Tuttle was there to greet them. Celestria discreetly tucked the note into the pocket of her cloak.

"I've been looking for you, Fladius. Where did you go off to?"

"I went to the market. Do you need anything? I have quite a few fresh eggs and an abundance of fresh vegetables if you'd like." Fladius said.

"That would be appreciated. I'm getting low on both, truth be told. Thank you, Fladius. Now, I just need you to prepare for tomorrow." Father Tuttle said.

"Of course. I've done that, Father."

"Already?"

"Yes, Father. Just before I went to the market." Fladius smiled.

Celestria looked to her lap and grinned, then took a sip of her tea.

"Very good. Thank you, Fladius." Father Tuttle nodded with a smile. Next he turned his attention to his charge. "It's rather chill out here, Celest. Perhaps you should step inside and warm up."

"Yes, Father. I'll be right in." she nodded.

"Very well."

"I'll head to my quarters and bring those wares over to you, Father." Fladius said.

Father Tuttle nodded then went back inside.

Once a few moments had passed they resumed their conversation.

"She'll be there near sundown, Miss. How will we achieve this without either of them knowing?" Fladius whispered, nodding to the door.

"I'll think of something. Just meet me near the church." Celestria said.

Fladius nodded then went on his way.

"Oh! That is lovely on you, Meridwyn!" Rhiannon exclaimed as the ladies were taking in Meridwyn's gown.

Meridwyn stood at the mirror examining the reflection of her new gown.

"It's a beautiful colour on you. It's perfect with your hair and eye colour." Isabelle smiled.

"It feels a little… snug across the bosom, though. I don't know." Meridwyn mused as she turned side to side while looking in the mirror.

"That's not surprising, mon cher. It's been some time since your last fitting, non?" Madam Oberon said as she stood back a few feet to study the gown.

"What do you think, Madam? Will it be alright? I couldn't get any bigger in less than a fortnight. Could I?"

"It is snug, indeed. I shall need to make an adjustment." Madam Oberon said.

"Can you accomplish that, though? I imagine it is easier to take a garment in to a smaller size, than to make it larger. Correct?" Meridwyn asked.

"Oui. In this case I was expecting it with yours and Mademoiselle Rhiannon's gowns, so I considered that when sewing them."

"That's a relief!" Meridwyn sighed.

"Oui. Do not fret, mon cher. It's a solution facile." Madam Oberon smiled.

"A which, Madam?" Meridwyn asked.

"Oui. Pardonne-moi. I said it is an easy fix."

"Very good. Thank you, Madam Oberon! I'm very pleased." Meridwyn smiled. Then she looked back at her reflection in the mirror. "You don't think the colour will look strange when I'm standing next to Rhiannon and Isabelle, do you?"

"Non. I think the colours will blend nicely, mon cher."

"I agree." Rhiannon smiled.

"Do not worry about such nonsense, Meridwyn. Not strange at all." Isabelle added.

"Now, come back to the dressing area, mon cher. I shall need to measure you once more over your chemise to get the fit right. Then, we will put all three gowns beside each other draped over the chair here in the salon so you can see for yourself how well the colours blend."

"Very well." Meridwyn nodded.

After Madam Oberon measured Lady Meridwyn once again, and the ladies viewed the gowns together, in agreement that the colours worked well, they resumed their places on the sofa, drinking tea and nibbling on the fruit filled pastries that Jean Louis had sent up.

"The tea and pastries are lovely, Madame." Rhiannon smiled.

"Indeed. Isabelle nodded.

"Is this what you meant about our fitting session being so much more?" Meridwyn asked.

"Not entirely. Non." Madam Oberon hinted.

"There's more?" Isabelle asked.

"Oui. Where is Marie? I asked her to bring the items to me after the fittings." the seamstress remarked. She stood from her chair and walked toward the back room calling out to her once more.

Soon, Marie appeared carrying a sack and dutifully handed it to her mother before returning to the room.

"What's this?" Rhiannon asked.

"Treat bags for you ladies." Madam Oberon smiled.

"Really?" Meridwyn asked.

"Oui." she said.

Madam Oberon opened the sack and extracted three handmade silk drawstring bags which she had monogrammed with fine embroidery work for each of them.

"I don't know what's inside of these bags, but they're beautiful!" Meridwyn exclaimed.

"Exquisite." Rhiannon agreed.

"I love it." Isabelle said.

"Tres bien. Now you may open them, mes chers." Madam Oberon smiled.

Within each bag was a separate satchel containing tiny jars, small brushes, and another large sachet filled with soft rose petals.

"Is this what I think it is, Madame?" Rhiannon asked, indicating the satchel of tiny jars.

"Oui! Remember the last time we met I taught you some beauty tricks? Now you each have your own supply. The rose petals will soften and fragrance your bath water before you dress on the wedding day." Madam Oberon explained.

"Amazing!" Rhiannon exclaimed.

"Just keep the rose petals in a cool place until that time." the seamstress advised.

"How lovely!" Meridwyn added.

"Indeed. So very thoughtful!" Isabelle agreed. "Except, I'm not sure I could apply the powders and pastes to my face as deftly as you do, Madam Oberon." Rhiannon frowned.

"Agreed." Meridwyn sighed.

"If you'd like, we can keep them here. I will show you all again how to apply it on the day of Mademoiselle Rhiannon's wedding. Just take the rose petals with you. I promised I would help you ladies primp and be beautiful on that day." Madam Oberon smiled.

"That sounds divine. I've never been so excited for someone else's wedding day in my life." Meridwyn giggled.

"I know! I've never heard of such a thing. I'd wager that royal ladies aren't treated as nicely!" Isabelle squealed with glee.

"And, it would mean nothing at all if you two — my sisters, were excluded from sharing in this with me. All of my favourite women right here in one room." Rhiannon smiled. Then she looked to Madam Oberon. "I'm overwhelmed, Madame. This is above and beyond what any bride could ever possibly expect."

"Je suis content de le faire, mon cher." Madam Oberon smiled. (I am pleased to do so.)

"Merci beaucoup, Madame Oberon." Rhiannon said.

"And, that is not all. I shall also help you ladies with your hair."

"That's perfect, because I can't figure out what to do with mine. I just know I want it up, and how I wish to adorn it." Rhiannon said.

"This just gets better and better." Isabelle smiled as she took a sip of the hot, soothing tea from her cup.

"All I can say is: good luck to you with mine, Madam. You shall have your work cut out out for you with this mess." Meridwyn said with an eye roll as she pointed to her tresses.

"Nothing is impossible, mon cher. You will be surprised."

"That reminds me. I have this for you." Rhiannon said as she pulled a small scroll from her pocket, passing it to Madam Oberon.

"Une invitation de mariage?"

"Of course, Madame. And you're to bring Marie with you. You must come. Tu es comme une mère pour moi." Rhiannon smiled. (You are like a mother to me.)

"Merci, Mademoiselle Rhiannon. I shall be pleased to attend." Madam Oberon smiled proudly.

The Sheriff was coming through the rear entrance of the castle, having finished with a few hours worth of brushing up on his bow skills. It was now close to mid afternoon. He walked through the corridor and as he got closer he noticed his Lieutenant and his Captain walking together, coming toward him from the opposite direction.

"Do you know what this meeting is about, my Lord?" Duke Farnsworth asked.

"Yes, but not entirely. Robert and Stephanus are meeting us. Stephanus was working on something for us before his sight was lost. They wish to show it to us and we will decide if it needs to be completed." the Sheriff said.

"Hopefully it won't be as disastrous as the other pieces he butchered for us before we discovered what the problem was." Guy said.

"Whatever it is, Robert said it is very fine work. We shall see. Come. They shall be joining us soon." he said as he opened the door.

They stepped inside and were surprised to see that the men were already there waiting, with a sentry standing beside them. Once more there was something resting on the large table, covered by a sheet of heavy cotton.

The Sheriff nodded to the sentry to indicate he was dismissed. The door closed and the Sheriff and his top men walked closer toward them.

"He is here, isn't he?" Stephanus whispered to Robert.

"Indeed." Robert said.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen. Now, what's this you wish to show me today?" Nottingham asked.

"It is something I was working on before I began to have issues with my sight. With all of the changes that came with that, It was almost forgotten about until we started working on the shields for you, Milord." Stephanus said.

"I see. And, how are the shields coming along?"

"Splendidly, Milord. We have completed six of them thus far. They've been tested and they provide good protection." Robert said.

"Very good. Let me see what this curious item is under that cloth."

"Very well." Robert said. He walked over to the table and slowly peeled back the cloth to reveal the gleaming chain mail hauberk.

"It is good, but don't we already have chain mail armour, Stephanus?" Nottingham asked as he ran his hand over the metal.

"Yes, Milord Sheriff. The difference is this has been improved upon to increase the level of protection it offers." Stephanus said.

"Interesting." Guy said.

"Indeed." Duke Farnsworth agreed.

"How has it been improved upon?" Nottingham asked.

"This time the majority of the rings are riveted in a four to one pattern. Some of the rings are solid." Stephanus explained.

"Also, it's a combination of iron and steel rings." Robert added. "Pick it up. Examine it for yourself and you shall see."

The Sheriff did so and was pleased with how finely crafted the piece was. He invited his top men to do the same.

"This is very fine work." Duke Farnsworth declared.

"I'll concur with that. When would it be finished?" Guy asked them.

"Well, that's the thing about it… " Stephanus began.

"How long?" Nottingham asked.

"It takes a lot of man hours to craft a piece like this." Robert said.

"But, worth it since chain mail with a vest worn underneath provides good protection against most weapons." the Captain said. He looked to the Sheriff. "This would be invaluable to your men, my Lord."

"Can it be sliced with a sword?" Guy asked.

"No. Slashing wouldn't work. It could possibly be punctured, but the tip of the weapon would need to be fine and placed in perfect position to achieve it. A nearly impossible feat. There could be bruising and soreness after a sword fight, but less chance of you losing one of your men." Stephanus said.

"And, that would give us another edge." Nottingham grinned.

"Indeed, Milord." Robert nodded.

"And, there is more." Stephanus said as he extracted a scroll from his cloak pocket. He held it out in front of him and the Sheriff took it.

"What's this?" Nottingham asked.

"Drawings and diagrams containing specific measurements, gauges of the metal used, placement of the patterns used for the hauberk… and the hood that I never got around to." Stephanus said.

The Sheriff unfurled the scroll, studying it a moment then showed it to his top men.

"This is good. It's so detailed." Duke Farnsworth said.

"Very well conceived." Guy nodded.

"So, could others in the armoury understand these plans and craft the chain mail as finely as this hauberk, giving us the same results?" the Sheriff asked.

"In theory, yes. It would take some time, however." Robert said.

"Very well. I like it. Get this piece finished and start on a chain mail hood. Then you shall bring them to us for our approval once more before we decide to increase the production of them."

"Very well." Robert said.

"And make sure the specifications on these diagrams are followed to the letter, with approval from Stephanus before we see them."

"Of course, Milord." Robert agreed.

"Yes, Milord. It will be an honour." Stephanus nodded.

Ladies Meridwyn and Isabelle were seated together on a stone bench amongst the fading flowers in the gardens. Following their meeting with Madam Oberon, Rhiannon told them she had some things she needed to attend to, so they separated once they descended the stairs to the main floor.

The weather was chill yet still pleasant, with sunlight peeking through the greying engorged clouds, and very little wind. The ladies were enjoying the change in weather and scenery as they wondered what their friend was doing to keep her from spending time with them.

"Did she say anything to you, Isabelle?" Meridwyn asked.

"It's not like we had a moment to speak privately, Meridwyn." Isabelle said.

"Sure you would have. When I was trying on my gown. Madam Oberon was busy tending to me. Marie was assisting her. That was a perfect moment. Could you not glean anything from her?" Meridwyn pressed.

"I uhh… sort of forgot to mention anything about it. I was rather caught up in the excitement." Isabelle explained.

"For Heaven's sake, Isabelle!" Meridwyn huffed as she shook her head.

"Apologies, Meridwyn." Isabelle said as she looked to her lap.

"Never mind that. What's done is done. But, we must find her. God knows what she's got up her sleeve, but we must get to the bottom of it. All we need is a time frame. We must tell the Sheriff. He's going to think we suffer from hysteria or something the way we keep running into him, stammering out lies about a wedding surprise. Only he can ultimately stop her. You know this, right?"

Isabelle drew in a heavy sigh. "Aye. I suppose you're right. Curses! I had my chance and let it slip away."

"All we can do is press on, Isabelle. Where do you think she might have gone off to?"

"I should say you would know the answer to that better than I, Meridwyn. You're her closest friend and you've known her much longer than I." Isabelle pointed out.

"You're a close friend now, too. But you're right — I've known her longer. These gardens are her usual hideaway. Her and her books." Merdiwyn sighed, shaking her head. "Unless… she's busy making arrangements for the nuptials? Perhaps she went to meet Jean Louis to discuss the dishes for the wedding feast?"

"Without her betrothed?"

"Why would he care? He's a man, Isabelle. They don't bother themselves over such details. The only thing he knows about it is he doesn't want galimafree served." Meridwyn said.

"Should we see if she went there?" Isabelle asked.

"It certainly couldn't hurt. We need to find out more about her plans. The sooner the better. Guy says that the Sheriff will be away tomorrow. I would wager tomorrow is the day. We need solid information to relay to the Sheriff before he cannot stop her in time." Meridwyn said with a knowing quirk of her brow.

"Indeed. We best head to the Dining Hall." Isabelle nodded.

They arose from the bench and made their way towards the castle.

Lady Rhiannon was making her way to the stables to check on her horse. She thought of taking her horse for a walk, but she didn't have much time before sundown. On the way out of her seamstress' quarters she warned Madam Oberon she would be returning again soon to change into her breeches and leather. Madam Oberon just winked her eye in reply. She would check on her horse, then quickly make her way back to Madam Oberon's quarters, then there would be a quick session of bow practice to wind the day down.

She was surprised to see a new guard manning the stables. This one appeared to be adhering to the rule book. He stood firmly at attention by the entrance to the stables. She sighed as she drew closer toward him.

"Good day. I don't believe we've met. What business do you have here at this time?" he asked.

"I'm here to check on my horse." Rhiannon replied.

"Oh. You don't work here, then?"

"Pardon? Work? What kind of work are you referring to?" she asked, suspiciously. Surely this man wouldn't presume she was a consort? Would he?

"Ah! So, you're not a groomer, then?" he asked, completely surprising her.

"Groomer! A lady groomer?"

"Where I used to work, the best groomer in the stables was a young maiden." he explained.

"How very odd." Rhiannon said.

"Not really. You'd have to know her, and her father — my employer. Whatever she wished he would grant it to her. She insisted she be permitted to groom all of the horses in the stables since she enjoyed grooming her own."

"Fascinating. Whom was your employer, if I might ask?"

"The Sheriff of Hampshire." he said.

"Oh. So, you're Ancel. The newest recruit in the Black Knights?"

"Indeed." he said slowly, rather surprised. "And, how did you know that?"

"Because my betrothed has mentioned you a few times. He's impressed." she smiled.

"You're… the Sheriff's lady. Am I correct?"

"Yes. Rhiannon Wordsworth. Pleased to make your acquaintance." she nodded.

"Likewise. I am Ancel Ward. So, you have your own horse, then? Is this the usual time you'd come to see your horse?"

"It could be anytime in the day. I don't get the time to ride Sugarstar as often as I'd like, but I make the time to see her." Rhiannon said.

"That's a great name for a horse, Milady. Well… if I were in the habit of naming my horses, that's a catchy name, for sure." Ancel chuckled.

"Indeed. It's kind of you to say. Most just tease me about naming her." a beat. "Will you be here tomorrow, Ancel?"

"No. I will be with your betrothed on the morrow. The Prince invited him to a stag hunt. The Sheriff has asked a few of us to accompany him."

Rhiannon looked down to the ground a moment to conceal her satisfied grin. She could definitely make this work on the morrow. She was still debating if she should, however.

"It's very rare he takes time for leisure. I'm sure it shall be enjoyable for you." Rhiannon said.

"I'm sure. I best practice with a bow when my duty here is finished. It's been nearly a fortnight since I've hunted. The last kill were rabbits and chickens."

"If you can hit a rabbit and a chicken, I've no doubt you'll have no problem shooting a deer." Rhiannon said.

"They move quite fast, too. You'd be surprised. Although, you speak as if you're familiar with handling a bow?"

"I've handled them before. Yes." she hinted.

It was nearly an hour later when she arrived at the spot where she kept her weapons. She couldn't help but notice Meridwyn and Isabelle wandering the halls of the main floor of the castle when she quickly descended the stairs from Madam Oberon's chambers while on her way to target practice. She hoped they didn't notice her. They would have questions about that for sure.

They wouldn't understand any of this. Even if Rhiannon were to face them she could never make her friends understand that she was headed to target practice; that she'd been practicing for some time, and what a good thing since she was certain something funny was going on at her manor. She still was questioning the real motives behind a chance meeting with Rebeccah just yesterday, in the gardens, of all places. Rhiannon knew they didn't want her to go to her manor, and she guessed they were probably right; but she knew there was something amiss. Rebecca was hiding something. Rhiannon was certain.

Rhiannon was stunned when she saw what awaited her deep in the wooded area where she kept her weapons. She opened the chest and there was her bow and quiver of arrows resting inside, shielded from the elements. She smiled. She knew straightway her betrothed arranged it and placed it there as a surprise for her.

The Sheriff was good to her. He said he wanted to come up with a solution when he asked where she kept the bow and arrows. "We shall have to do something about that." he said to her on Monday when he caught her shooting the arrows. It was the only time it was spoken of, and she had forgotten about it until just now. He must have been planning this since that brief mention in their conversation five days ago. Rhiannon sighed. He always knew exactly how to surprise her.

"Damn you, George. You make it so hard to lie to you sometimes." she whispered.

She was close to reconsidering her plan. He did offer to escort her to her manor personally after they were wed. She was giving it thought, and it all changed when she saw Rebeccah. She wasn't buying the story about Rebeccah suddenly needing to report the town butcher's poor business practices to the Sheriff.

She fastened the makeshift target to the usual tree, took the bow and quiver of arrows, then walked approximately eighty yards to take position. She fired arrow after arrow, retrieving them and constantly repeating the process until she was satisfied with the results, near the gloaming.

Ladies Meridwyn and Isabelle were walking along the corridor of the main level of the castle, having just checked the Dining Hall and the Library for any sign of Rhiannon. Suddenly, they both noticed an unfamiliar, slender appearing man of medium height dressed in black leather quickly descending the stairs then heading toward the doors leading to the rear of the castle. Oddly, the person had the hood of their fitted cloak up over their head.

"Who do you suppose that was, Meridwyn? They weren't dressed like one of the Black Knights." Isabelle pointed out.

"I have no idea, but that was very peculiar, indeed." Meridwyn agreed.

"Perhaps it was one of them reporting late for duty and they hadn't had time to change into their usual attire yet?" Isabelle mused.

"Perhaps, but probably doubtful. Normally, I'd suggest we look into it, but we must find Rhiannon. I'm one hundred percent certain that tomorrow is the day she'll go to her manor." Meridwyn said.

"Unless she changed her mind?"

"Again, doubtful. Think of it. It's the perfect time. Her betrothed won't be here to check on her and question her. No. I know her. Tomorrow is the day." Meridwyn warned with a knowing quirk of her brow.

"Indeed. You're probably right." Isabelle sighed.

As they were approaching the Council Quarters the door opened and the Sheriff, Guy, Duke Farnsworth, Robert, and another man who walked with a stick were exiting.

"And there are our men, Meridwyn. But, we won't get a chance to speak to the Sheriff. Curses!" Isabelle quietly exclaimed.

"We must find a way, Isabelle. Come." Meridwyn urged her.

Guy and Robert were speaking to the Captain near the door as the Sheriff and Stephanus engaged in conversation away from the men. Soon, the Captain took his leave and the ladies headed over to their men.

"Imagine finding you two together once again?" Guy remarked with a chuckle.

"Yes." Meridwyn said absently.

Guy looked at her strangely with a suspicious quirk of his brow, but she was completely ignoring him.

"How did it go at the gown fitting?" Robert asked.

"It was good, Robert. We had a lovely time." Isabelle smiled.

"Where is Rhiannon, then? Wasn't she with you?" Robert asked.

"She was, but then she said she needed to take care of some things. We don't know where she went off to. We were just looking for her." Meridwyn said.

"She does that a lot." Isabelle added.

"She does what a lot?" the Sheriff asked as he suddenly joined into their conversation.

"Nothing really." Isabelle muttered.

The Sheriff stared at both of them, folding his arms awaiting a better answer. He didn't know what these two were up to, but more and more he was convinced they were plotting something.

"She disappears from sight." Meridwyn said.

"Yes, sometimes she does do that." he agreed. "You were just with her, weren't you? Wasn't there a meeting in Lady Arianna's chambers earlier?" a beat. "Robert told me about it."

"Yes. We were all fitted once again." Meridwyn said.

"And, everything went very well. We all had a lovely time; but, she told us she had some things to take care of, so we were separated." Isabelle explained.

"And, we were just looking for her." Meridwyn added.

"I see." Nottingham said with a quirk of his brow.

"Well, since you're here, we can escort you now." Guy said.

"Yes. A fine idea, Sir Gisborne." Robert nodded.

"Escort us… where?" Meridwyn demanded.

"I'm with her, Robert." Isabelle said as she folded her arms, in an unusual display of defiance. "Where exactly are we being escorted off to?" Isabelle asked.

Nottingham looked to the floor to conceal a chuckle.

"Wouldn't you like to go back to our rooms?" Robert asked.

"Not just now. We… need to… find Rhiannon." Isabelle stammered.

Nottingham looked up, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

"What is going on, ladies?" he demanded, as he glared into each of their eyes.

"Nothing, Milord." Isabelle said. "She… said she wouldn't be long, is all." she lied, then quickly looked to the floor.

"We were… planning to keep her company tomorrow. You'll be away. Guy told me. We could keep her occupied and keep her out of trouble for you." Meridwyn rambled, laughing nervously.

"Yes, and we didn't get a chance to tell her of our plans, since she left us rather… abruptly. After our meeting with Madam Oberon." Isabelle added.

"Right. Was there anything else you needed to mention?" he asked.

"Well… no. Not… right now." Meridwyn said, but her blue eyed stare was imploring him to remember they wished to speak to him privately.

Nottingham noticed her staring at him oddly, but couldn't imagine what was so important that these ladies couldn't just tell him now whatever the matter was, in the presence of their husbands. Didn't they understand he had a busy schedule?

As the sun was beginning to set, Celestria arrived close to the specified location in the Village. The carriage came to a halt, and a few moments later Fladius opened the door for her.

She took his hand and stepped down from it.

"Where would you like me to wait, Miss?" he asked.

"Where exactly is this place I'm to meet her at?" Celestria asked as she began to look around.

"That's it there." he pointed to the structure. "It looks to be about sixty yards or so. I didn't want to get too close."

"This is good. You remain here and I won't be long at all."

"If you're still there after dark I'll be moving in closer to fetch you, Miss. Danger always lurks after dark. Especially on this night. The night of the dead." Fladius shuddered.

"Thought you said you were a pious man? You don't fall for that superstition, do you?"

"I'm not sure what to believe about superstition, Celest. But, I'm no fool. Each year it seems that strange occurrences take place right around this time." a beat. "I'll leave the carriage here with the horses secured. I will come quietly on foot if you're still in there after sundown."

She nodded and then made her way to the location.

After a short time she was walking the cobblestone path leading to the doorstep. She stood at the door and began to knock. She thought there was something familiar about the place, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

In moments the door tentatively opened and Gelldred peaked through the crack.

"Come in. Quickly." Gelldred urged as she held the door open.

Celestria quickly passed through the threshold and Gelldred closed the door behind them.

"I thought you might be dead." Gelldred said, softly.

"I nearly was, but then the man you met earlier found me, and I've been seen to by a healer — apparently; a nun, and a priest ever since." Celestria remarked with a quirk of her brow.

"You're jesting!"

"I wish I was. Did you bring my things?"

"I did, and I brought your horse, too. I shall have to walk back to the brothel."

"No, you won't. The man who delivered the note to you brought me here in a carriage. I'll have him take you there before he takes me to where I have been staying."

"Won't you be staying here tonight? Before you leave Nottingham?" Gelldred asked.

"No. I'll slip away tomorrow. I'll return here, and then I shall begin my journey." Celestria said quietly, looking to the floor.

"What happened to you, Celestria? Did the Sheriff hurt you? You said you nearly died. What in God's nightgown is going on? Are you running from him now?"

"I'm fine. There's no need to fret." Celestria remarked, flippantly.

"He did hurt you, didn't he." Gelldred insisted.

"We had a very nice time." Celestria said in hurried speech, as she looked around the room.

"What? Celestria. You're not making sense!"

"It was a lovely time. He brought a special wine. It was fruity. Almost sweet. We talked about a… future." Celestria whispered.

"Celestria, perhaps you ought to sit down. You're not well. The man is betrothed. You know this!" Gelldred urged.

"He didn't hurt me." Celestria lied.

"What? Then who did, Celestria? It's been six days since you left with him, and just now you admitted you nearly died. So, what the hell happened between last Sunday and right now that caused you to nearly die?" Gelldred demanded.

"I drank… too much. I was sick. I… went for a walk for some air and… lost my way. I was hungry and ate some berries. Next thing… I was at a church." Celestria lied.

"What? Why are you leaving, then?"

"I need some time to think." Celestria said.

"Will I see you again?" Gelldred asked.

"Not unless you look for me in Derbyshire. It's best I get away."

"I see."

Celestria took a moment to really take in her surroundings. She was suddenly startled. She rubbed her arms as she began to shiver.

"What is it, Celestria?"

"I've been here before." Celestria shuddered. "It was… not a very pleasant experience."

"When? We're you here recent —"

"How did you know of this place, Gelldred?" she asked, curiously.

"I'm surprised you haven't heard. Some of the ladies at the brothel like to come here in their off hours to drink wine, and partake of poppy milk." Gelldred commented with a smirk.

"Interesting. No, I haven't heard about that."

"Is there somewhere specific you'd like your things?"

"I'll take a quick look around and find a secure place for them."

"Very well."

"Nobody can know about me, Gelldred. I'm emphatic about this. You never saw me. As far as you're aware, I'm still missing." Celestria stated firmly.

"Aye. You made that very clear. No one shall know." a beat. "Now that I assured you of that, you want to tell me why the hell you're running?"

"I'm not running. I'm starting a new chapt — "

"What did you do, Celestria?" Gelldred demanded.

"Got attached to the wrong man." Celestial quietly replied.

"Celestria… " Gelldred whispered, slowly shaking her head.

"Did you burn the letter?"

"Of course. Just as you asked." Gelldred nodded.

"What about my horse? Is the horse somewhere safe for the night?"

"Aye. There's stables close on the property."

"That is good." a beat. "You're a dear for all of this. Thank you."

"Of course." Gelldred smiled.

The two women briefly embraced, and then Celestria went looking for a perfect spot to conceal her portmanteau which contained the requested items.

As the day was winding down, the Sheriff decided to go out to the stables to see how Ancel was faring, and to remind him that they would need to leave in the morning to make their way to Newerche.

He ran into his cousin as he was making his way toward the staircase.

"Did you find your lady?" Guy asked.

"I wasn't looking. She's probably somewhere reading her book." Nottingham said.

"I see."

"Glad I saw you. I was going to look for you shortly. I forgot to mention this to you earlier. I'm sure I don't need to tell you this, but you're in charge tomorrow while I'm busy in Newerche."

"Very well. Will you be coming here directly afterward?"

"We're going to make a stop at Samson Fingle's manor. He wouldn't be working tomorrow, but we'll need to see him." the Sheriff said.

"Alright. I'm a bit surprised you're going, truthfully."

"I have little interest in it, but, it's a good excuse to round up my archers, fill them in on the plan for poisoning arrowheads, and taking them to see Fingle. So, we keep up appearances with the Prince, and get something productive accomplished simultaneously." Nottingham grinned.

"A wise plan, Cousin." Guy agreed with a grin.

"The Duke will be here as well should you need him in my absence. Hopefully things will go smoothly around here, though. It's not as if I'll be gone too long." he pointed out.

"Of course, Cousin. I'm sure we can manage just fine without you for one day." Guy nodded.

The Sheriff nodded then continued on his way.

Ancel was surprised to see the Sheriff approaching. His time at the stables was drawing to a close. Soon he would need to wash up, change clothes, then meet with Luke and Drake for their evening assignment.

"Good evening, Milord." Ancel greeted him.

"Good evening. How was it manning the stables?"

"In fairness, it was a little mundane, until there was an unexpected visitor a few hours ago." Ancel hinted.

"And, whom was that? It wasn't the tall, dark haired lady dropping by to inquire about her missing niece again, was it?"

"No, Milord. There was a dark haired lady, but certainly not the one you're describing."

"Oh? Did you get a name?"

"Yes, Milord. It was your lady, Rhiannon. She came by to check on her horse. She stopped to chat, probably out of curiosity since she'd never seen me before. I introduced myself to her." Ancel explained.

"Good. I'm glad you had the chance to meet." Nottingham said.

"Yes. We only spoke for a few moments and I can already see that you are very well matched, Milord." Ancel smiled.

"I appreciate that, Ancel." the Sheriff said. "Are you ready for your next assignment?"

"Yes, Milord. My duty here is ending soon, and then I'll ready myself, and prepare to meet Luke and Drake back here where we will grab our horses and head to the tavern."

"Good. And tomorrow, we leave for Newerche in the morning."

"I shall remind Luke of that." he paused a moment before asking the question that he couldn't ignore. "Milord? Whom is this woman you spoke of who's niece is missing? Should we be looking for the missing girl?"

"No. The woman trekked all the way here from Derbyshire. It's not something we need to concern ourselves with as yet." Nottingham said.

"I see. Very well."

"May I ask how the conversation went with my lady?" he asked, curiously.

"Yes. It was brief. When she approached I asked what business she had in the stables, and did she work here."

Nottingham chuckled. "I imagine that didn't go over too well at first."

"I'm afraid she thought I meant a different sort of worker, Milord. Until I asked if she was a groomer. Then I explained that the best groomer in the stables at the Sheriff of Hampshire's castle was a young maiden. That's how she guessed my name." Ancel explained.

"Interesting. A woman groomer?"

"Yes, Milord. The Sheriff's daughter. She insisted and he seldom refuses her wishes." Ancel stated.

"Well, you learn something new every day." Nottingham laughed.

"Indeed, Milord."

Nottingham started to move past him toward the entrance to the stables.

"You don't need to remind him about saddling our horses in the morning, Milord. I reminded Gervase not too long ago." Ancel said.

"Ah, very good, Ancel. You read my mind. Very well. Now, remember what I said about drinking this evening."

"Yes, Milord Sheriff. We shall only pretend to imbibe."

The Sheriff nodded and headed back toward the castle.

The sun had just set and darkness was now looming, so the Sheriff was somewhat surprised when he arrived to his chambers and found nothing but silence to greet him. He was certain she'd be arriving shortly, so he poured a libation of brandy and began to sip it, deciding he would look for her if she didn't return imminently.

He sat on a chair in front of the fireplace, and was halfway through his goblet of brandy when she came strolling in through the door.

"I suppose I can guess where you went off to after your meeting with Madam Oberon." he said as he arose to greet her.

"How did you know about that?" Rhiannon asked.

"Robert told me."

"Oh. You saw him today?"

"Yes. We had a meeting in the afternoon. And then the ladies were looking for you." he said.

"Oh. I see. Yes, I was involved with target practice after our meeting with Madam Oberon." Rhiannon explained. "Thank you for the lovely weapons chest, my sweet." she smiled.

"Of course, my lady. It was needed." he said as he went to her and kissed her cheek. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"I'm feeling well. I think a hot soak is in order before we dine, though." Rhiannon smiled.

"I thought as much." he chuckled.

He set the goblet down and went to the door. He informed the sentry to summon the servants to bring buckets of hot water to the chambers.

Sometime later, while Rhiannon was soaking in the tub, he was seated again in the chair, sipping of his brandy. He nearly dropped the goblet on the polished marble floor when the tiny bells pealed — a summons from the witch.

He set the goblet down and opened the door from his den that lead down into her apothecary.

She was waiting for him at the base of the stairs.

"Yes, Madam. What is it? More visions about the fire?" he asked.

"No. Nothing like that. Come. I shall get you a cup of batwing tea." she smiled as she led him inside.

He took a seat at the table across from her as she set a steaming cup of the tea in front of him.

"Drink." she said.

"Fine, but I won't drink too much of it. I've been drinking brandy, and I plan to finish the goblet of it when I return. Now, what is this about?"

"I don't think I've told you the importance of this day." Mortianna began.

The Sheriff regarded her with a bewildered expression. "What about it? I don't recall there being an historical significance to note about November first?"

"Categorically, in most lore, today is the day of all days of the year in which it is the easiest time to contact the dead. Some call this night: the Night of the Dead." the witch announced, as if she were commenting on a weather pattern.

Nottingham looked down and began to shake his head.

"Really? You called me down here for this?" he looked up and glared at her, then he began to arise from his seat.

She held out her hand then nodded to his chair. He sighed and resumed sitting.

"Aye. I thought ye should know." she said while maintaining his curious gaze.

"For what purpose?" he inhaled sharply then continued. "When one is dead, they are dead. The dead cannot speak, Madam."

"You'd be surprised. Of course they don't speak in physical form like us, but the veil between their world and ours is thinnest right now, even until moonrise tomorrow. Of course, ye can talk to them any day of the year that you wish. They will hear you; but, they're more likely to respond on these days, Milord."

"I suppose you're going to tell me I require a crystal ball, bone dice runes, or some similar means of obtaining portents." Nottingham sighed.

"Not necessarily." Mortianna hinted.

"Fine. I'll play this game. Whom are you suggesting I contact, then?"

"Your parents, perhaps?"

"Bah! I never knew them. I managed just fine all of these years without them. I'm sure I can continue to get by without bothering them." Nottingham said.

"Of course, Milord. But, it can be an enlightening experience."

"Why now? And, you know me. Of all people, why would you presume to believe this would interest me? A clue: it does not."

"Because you're a father now, and are about to be wed." she answered, unfazed by the hostility in his tone. She took in a breath. "Surely, you've thought of them?"

"On occasion. It rarely crosses my mind, as I don't miss them. How can you miss people you never knew?" a beat. "If they were to magically appear, I still wouldn't know them."

"You'd never know without trying, Milord. All it takes is ye speaking to them, imagining they are there with ye in life."

The Sheriff took another small sip of the batwing tea before setting the cup upon the table. He stood and glared at her, shaking his head.

"This is a new one, Crone — even for you. Fascinating suggestion, but none of this is relevant to me now. And, if I were to talk to anyone it would be Nic, but he is dead."

"It works the same for anyone who is dead, Milord."

"Is there anything else pertinent you can tell me, or is that the sole reason you called me here?" he demanded.

"That was all, Milord."

"Right. We must stop meeting like this." the Sheriff sighed. "Goodnight, Madam." he said as he turned and took leave of her.

Nottingham was glad when he returned to his chambers. He retrieved his goblet and resumed his previous position on the chair. The day had been long. He would enjoy this moment of pure leisure and let the warming liquid soothe him.

Night of the Dead! And, she was serious? Nottingham shook his head, still in disbelief what Mortianna had summoned him about. He took another generous mouthful of brandy, unaware that the night would be long, too.

A/N: Thank you, dear readers, for your patience, and forgive me for the years long wait to continue this story. It was a hell of a last decade.

Three years ago I read through the entirety of what I had so far, and then began to continue writing. But then, I kept thinking of things, and then I was tweaking this and that. Currently, I have 18 more chapters from this one that are completed. There's tons of surprises in store -- even leading up to the wedding; background players come into it; a twist involving a mage; a visitor to the castle -- who is only spoken of at this point -- unknowingly alters things for one of the Black Knights; and, of course, it's not all smooth sailing on the Nottingham/Wordsworth Wedding day. It could never be boring! Some things took shape that I never imagined myself when I started this, but I'm pleased with what I have to share.

It may not look so pretty to read, but I added the translations to words spoken by Madam Oberon, her daughter, Marie, and Rhiannon so that you wouldn't have to. I think I did that when Diego comes into this, too.

So, stay tuned, and hold onto your hats. I do hope you enjoy reading, as much as I have enjoyed writing this.

Cheers to all of you!

-- Donna.