After a time, the men started to head back to the castle. Drake went to the tavern to enjoy a good mug of mead, hoping it would help dissolve a few doubts before he followed his gut.
Ancel was looking forward to seeing Rebeccah again. She seemed much more relaxed with him, reminding him of how easy and free she was when he'd first met her. He hoped that was a sign she was beginning to be able to trust him a little again.
After much thought, Nichol decided to head into the lane of Lady Kaeliss' home. He secured his horse, then walked the path to her door.
He was bit startled at first when a mature lady answered the knock.
"Yes. May I help you?" the middle aged woman asked.
"Indeed. I'm here to see Lady Kaeliss, Madam." Nichol nodded.
"At this hour? What are you doing here? What are your intentions?" she demanded, her brown eyes narrowed upon him.
He opened his mouth to respond, but then he saw his lady coming into view behind the lady servant, looking ravishing in a navy wool blend gown.
"Helewise! What are you doing?" Kaeliss demanded, with her hands planted firmly on her hips.
"Keeping you safe, Milady!" the silver haired woman huffed.
"There's no need for your dramatic reaction. This is Nichol. He's a fine, nobleman. You may retire to your quarters, Helewise." Kaeliss said, with a knowing quirk of her brow.
"Milady, it's awfully late for you to be receiving gentleman callers." the woman frowned.
"You're dismissed, Helewise. Off you go." Kaeliss said, firmly.
"Very well, Milady Kaeliss." Helewise sighed. Then, she looked back at Nichol scornfully, shaking her head, before she took her leave and headed to her room.
"Oh, my. Good thing you intervened. I'm shaking." Nichol chuckled.
"Not as much as I will make you shake, Nichol." she smirked. Then, she cleared her throat. "Come in. It's cold out there." Kaeliss smiled.
"I won't keep you long, my lady. We mustn't incur the wrath of Helewise from Hell." Nichol frowned.
"Do not give it another thought." Kaeliss said, closing the door behind him. "She's not as bad as she seems. She won't come out of her room again until morning."
"How… convenient." he chuckled.
"Yes. Isn't it?" she said with a knowing quirk of her brow.
"I wasn't sure if this would be a good idea or not — stopping by unannounced." he said.
"It was a perfect idea, Nichol. You've occupied most of my thoughts this day." she smiled.
"Indeed. Likewise." he said.
Nichol pulled her in close to him and kissed her softly.
"Nichol." she breathed.
He could already feel himself growing hard for her.
"Damn it, lady. All I keep thinking about is your lips around my — "
"Which lips, Nichol? The ones I'm kissing you with?" Kaeliss teased, then passionately kissed him. After a few moments, she broke the kiss and looked at him, salaciously. "Or… the ones between my thighs?"
"I can't decide." he smirked.
"Then, we'll just have to test both methods. Again." she whispered.
"What about Helewise, my lady?" he whispered as he kissed her neck, then moved down to graze the skin of her breasts as he unfastened the silver buttons on the bodice of her gown.
"She performs chores, Nichol. She doesn't run my life." Kaeliss whispered, as he cupped her breast and began to lick and suck her hard pink nipple. "Mmm, lover. That feels very… nice." she breathed.
"She won't hear… us?" he whispered.
"It's my home, Nichol. I consent to have you take me. We can try anything you like. I'm ready. No matter what you desire, I agree to it. I want you, Nichol. Touch me and you'll see." she whispered. Then, she reached down and began to stroke him over his breeches.
"Kaeliss." Nichol breathed as he kissed her hungrily.
"I employ her. She can't stop us from doing what we want. What we… need." Kaeliss whispered. This time she reached into his breeches to touch him more intimately.
"Indeed, lady. I need you. I'm hard as a fucking rock for you." he growled.
Kaeliss helped him unfasten more buttons on her gown and then quickly removed it. Then she slowly raised her shift until it was above her hips, and spread her legs.
"Touch me, lover. I'm ready when you are." she whispered into his ear.
He reached out and gently touched between her thighs. She was right. She was more than ready for him.
"You're so wet, my lady." he breathed.
"Come to bed, Nichol. I'll bring the food and drinks afterward. But first… I'm going to take you in my mouth. As promised." Kaeliss said. She grabbed her gown then nodded for him to follow her.
"Lead the way, beautiful." he grinned. "You sure she won't… hear us?"
"I don't care if you make me scream with ecstasy, lover. If she wants to keep collecting her wages, she'll keep her mouth shut."
"I like the way you think." he grinned as she opened the door to her large bedchamber.
"Good. Come. I have plans for you. I'm going to make you quite content, Nichol." Kaeliss winked.
Lady Rhiannon had just stepped into the tub and had just started to relax. She had the missives on top of a folded towel on a chair beside the tub, and a goblet of a generous measure of brandy on a small table beside the tub, where the chair was placed in front of. She dipped down into the water until the level was at the base of her neck. She reached for the goblet and took some generous sips as she permitted herself to completely relax.
She remembered that she had taken a bath that morning, on the day she first met George. She knew she needed to start from there. The beginning. She needed to try to remember the moment she was taken, and go from there.
She remembered the sound of the rain falling outside the windows of his bedchamber. Then, she remembered noticing him sound asleep beside her. It was a soft rain falling, heightening the scents of nature. She remembered getting up out of the bed, throwing on her shift, and then stepping outside the door of his chambers. The sentry who was usually posted at his door, was speaking to someone about fifteen feet away from the door. Neither noticed her, so she made her way down the corridor, then down the stairs. She turned to her right, thinking the exit just ahead may lead to the back where the gardens were located.
She remembered sniffing the white rose that she had cupped in her hand from the garden wall. A sound startled her and the flower came off the stem, falling to the ground.
She turned her head and saw a figure of a man close by. At first, she thought it was George, but she quickly dismissed that because why would he try so hard to conceal his identity? Then, she decided it must be one of his men, thinking she was an intruder.
"Oh. You must be one of his men. I'm not an intruder. I'm his guest." Rhiannon had said. She recalled stupidly turning away from him and she resumed admiring the beautiful roses.
Mistake number two. Her first mistake, she realized, was not arming herself before heading to mass. Or, grabbing George's sword before she decided to leave the castle and look at roses during the cursed witching hour!
Then, Rhiannon remembered his first words spoken to her in that muffled sinister whisper. Words that she had buried and put to rest — until now:
"Ha! His guest, are you? Half dressed, I see. This is bloody perfect. You're no courtesan. I saw you in the cathedral following mass. Consorts don't bother with mass. You'll do nicely. Yes. Very. Nicely." he said, a gleeful cadence to his sinister tone.
She widened her eyes, as a feeling of doom overtook her.
"WHAT?" she asked in horror, before she could turn around to face him.
Rhiannon closed her eyes as she took another sip of the brandy. She set the goblet on the table beside her.
She kept the bath chamber dark with only a few candles burning in there, to help take her to that time. She needed to focus solely on those memories to get to the heart of it, with no outside distractions.
She took in a breath and immersed herself under the water for a few brief moments. Then, she emerged and leaned back, closing her eyes. She would look at those missives in a few moments.
There was a sudden knock on the door of the bath chamber, then it opened, softly.
"My lady?" the Sheriff asked.
She opened her eyes and smiled at him.
"I've been here for a bit. Was just checking to see if you need the opium vial, or anything."
"I'm fine, George." she nodded.
"I see you have those missives in here."
"Yes. I'm going to review them in a few moments."
"It's dreadfully dark in here, Rhiannon. Shall I light the torch that's unlit on the wall? It will be difficult to read without much light." the Sheriff suggested.
"No. It's darkened for a reason. I'm getting there, George. Some memories are coming."
"I see. Anything about our son yet?"
"No. I'm at the beginning. Just before he… I'm guessing he knocked me over the head with something before loading me into his wagon, or whatever. That's where I'm at so far." Rhiannon said, softly.
"I'm here for you if something… anything presents itself to you. Have you eaten, my lady?" the Sheriff asked.
"No. Not yet. I was waiting for you." Rhiannon smiled.
"Very well. How much time do you need, my angel? I'm only asking to coordinate the tray arrival."
"I'd say… a good half hour."
"Very well." a beat. "Only you could look so appealing looking like a drowned rat wearing a bath shirt, my angel." he chuckled.
"Thank you, sugar." she smiled.
"I'll leave you to it. Don't drink so much of that brandy you fall asleep in here. I don't want you slipping below that high water line." he sighed.
Then, he took his leave of her.
Slayer had just finished updating Blaise on a few drunks he just tossed out of the tavern. Blaise was relieving him for a break. He stepped inside the tavern and looked for Drake, whom he spoke to briefly when Drake stopped by roughly half an hour ago. He was surprised he came on his own.
He found him near the back and walked over to his table.
"Shall I ask someone to bring you another, mate? You look as if you could use it, Draco, right?"
"That would be good. Thanks, Slayer." Drake nodded.
"What are you having, mate? Ale?"
"No. Tonight, it's mead."
"Ah! One of those days, right, that you need the strong stuff? Understood." Slayer nodded. he waved at a serving lady to get her attention. He requested another mug of mead for Drake, and lemonade for himself.
Slayer took a seat in one of the empty chairs at Drake's table.
"Weren't you all headed to that church again tonight?" Slayer asked.
"Yes. It's done. We got three more of those rebels." Drake nodded.
"Hmm. Really taking a big bite out of crime, aren't you?" Slayer chuckled.
"There's roughly… sixty five more of them to go. It's going to take time." Drake nodded, then took a sip of his mead.
"Has he got all of the Priest's henchmen, at least?"
"There's one left."
"Hmm. One is easier to catch than five and half dozen of them, I'd wager, right?"
"You're good with arithmetic, I see?" Drake said.
"I am. If I wanted to convey that part accurately, right, I would've said five point four dozen of them, though, mate." Slayer shrugged.
"Indeed. Doesn't have the same ring to it, though."
Just then, the serving lady arrived to the table.
"Very well. Here we are. I've a fresh mug of mead for you." she said to Drake as she set the mug down in front of him. "And, I'm guessing the lemonade is for you, Slayer." she smiled as she placed the cup on the table before him.
"Cheers, Edeva. You know me well, right?" Slayer smiled up at her.
"Of course." she smiled. Then, she looked to Drake. "He never imbibes when he's on duty. So, if you were looking to share a few laughs with him, your expectations were high." the comely blonde serving lady scoffed. Then, she looked back at Slayer. "In fact, I don't think I've ever seen you drink? You were the only one besides Charlie who didn't imbibe at last year's staff Yuletide party."
"It's never a good idea to get wasted when you're in the company of people you work with, love, right? Some blokes were getting out of line that night. One of us needed to be on guard to deal with that, and I'm a better choice for that than Charlie, right?" Slayer pointed out.
"Hmm. You do have a good point. Very well. Shall I bring some food next?" she asked.
"Just a bowl of soup for me, love." Slayer nodded.
"I'm fine." Drake said.
"Very well. Suit yourself. I'll be back directly with the soup." Edeva said, then she left them.
"I think she likes you, Slayer." Drake said with a knowing quirk of his brow, then took a generous swill of his mead.
"Of course, she does, mate. Edeva is a friend of mine, right?" Slayer said.
"Just… a friend?"
"Yes. Nothing romantic going on, Draco. There never was. But, I'd cut a bloke if he laid a hand on her, right."
"Is that because… Charlie has rules about his staff not mixing in that… way?" Drake asked, curiously.
"Not that I know of, mate. Last year, one of the security men had a thing going with another of the serving ladies, right? They kept it discreet at work, but they did end up getting married. We were all invited to the wedding. Charlie walked her down the aisle. They live in London now." Slayer explained, then took a sip of his lemonade.
"You must be jesting! Charlie was fine with all of that?" Drake asked, incredulously.
"Of course, mate. What would he do about it? Get in the way of true love, or whatever? He just needed to hire two more people when they took off to London, right. It worked out fine for everyone. It was after that he hired Blaise to take over for the groom." Slayer shrugged.
"Interesting." Drake muttered.
"Is it? Seems kind of ordinary to me, mate." Slayer said. Then, he sipped of his lemonade.
"It's the part about Charlie being… agreeable with it."
"Charlie steers clear of squabbles and confrontations. It's just how he is. He likes to see everyone happy, right. That's why he runs this place, and has men like Blaise and me dealing with any necessary confrontations." Slayer explained.
"I see." Drake nodded.
"I'm guessing… Milord Sheriff runs things a bit differently from the look of shock, right, that crossed your face a moment ago?"
"Yes. You could… say that." Drake sighed, then took a generous swill of the mead.
"I suppose that's understandable, mate. The Sheriff is running the whole damn shire, not just a place where people come to drink, relax, and get a bit silly, right? Yeah." Slayer reasoned, then took another drink of his lemonade.
"Yes. So… it would seem." Drake nodded.
Ancel arrived to Rebeccah's door. He hoped it wasn't too late for her. He saw no one anywhere near her door. He took a breath, then knocked.
Within a few moments, the door opened.
"Perfect." Rebeccah smiled "You're just in time. The trays arrived only a few moments ago. Come in, Ancel."
She held the door open for him as he stepped inside.
"That's good, Rebeccah. I was concerned I was too late to visit you." he smiled as she closed the door.
"Not at all. How did it go on the assignment you were headed to?"
"Very well. It was a success."
"Good. And, you are safe, which is even better." she smiled.
"Is it?"
"Of course, it is, Ancel. Do not tease me." she sighed.
Ancel took her hand and kissed it softly.
"Forgive me, Rebeccah. I suppose I was just… surprised you said that."
"You shouldn't be. You're here with me now. If I didn't care about your safety, I wouldn't have let you inside." Rebeccah said.
"Yes. That is true." Ancel chuckled.
"You must be starved. Come. Let's see what they sent us from the kitchen." she smiled.
Lady Rhiannon was beginning to remember a few things. She had just read over the two missives again. She took a few generous swills of the brandy and leaned back in the tub. She remembered that she often felt faint while held captive. Too queasy to get food down. Too anxious to eat, even if it wasn't for feeling that she might retch. She remembered that for a long time she didn't see her captor. He would just wordlessly bring her food.
The bottle of Mortianna's divine rose scented liquid soap fell from the shelf on the wall beside her, landing in the tub. It was below her knees. She was grateful it was capped, and didn't sound like it had broken. She bent forward, fumbling for a few moments, then grabbed it and put it back. But, when she attempted to resume her position in the tub, she accidentally hit her head on the left side. She put her hand to her head, then suddenly, something new came into her thoughts — the last encounter before he stopped talking to her for quite awhile.
"A baby is it, wench?" Rhiannon could hear his voice, hissing at her. She closed her eyes, and it was like she was back there. She saw him pointing to her belly in revulsion, then he slapped her across her head, and knocked her to the floor. She remembered that she looked up at him with a determined resolve. She never let him see her fear.
"Oh, my God! Did… that really happen? Did he really say those words?" Rhiannon whispered, inaudibly, to herself.
She grabbed the missives and quickly scanned them. Something kept standing out to her in the first one.
"I have the child of your whore.", "Your bastard and your whore."
Next, she remembered the rest of that god-awful encounter…
"You little whore!" he bent down toward her and whispered close to her ear. "You're all alike. Didn't see a ring on your finger the night I grabbed you. And look at you now!" he laughed. "Nobody is going to help you now. Even your Sheriff won't help you!" he spat.
His voice was a menacing whisper as he continued.
"So… what to do with the two of you? You are no use to me. The child is another matter. But you, wench… " he paused while he kicked at her side. "… are nothing but a useless whore. I can use your child, but don't expect to live much longer after it is birthed from your body."
Rhiannon gasped and put her palm to her gaping mouth. She vividly recalled what he did next. She closed her eyes, shaking her head as it replayed in her mind. He punctuated his vile threat by closing his hand around her exposed throat. He kept it there a few moments, slowly increasing the pressure of his hold, but then he released his grasp, and removed his hand from her.
"What the… I was… with child? No, fool! You just hit your head." Rhiannon whispered softly, her eyes widened in shock.
She grabbed the goblet and took a few more generous swills of brandy. Then, she set it on the table. She grabbed the bottle from the shelf and began to lather her skin with the heavenly scented liquid soap, as she narrowed her eyes in thought.
"When did it happen? I need to remember something of my labours with him." Rhiannon murmured to herself. She massaged her left temple as it was still a bit tender from accidentally hitting it against the tub.
And then, another memory came to her.
She remembered being rudely awakened from a slumber, with her ears ringing. The bastard had hit her on the head again, to wake her! It was very dark. She tried to focus her eyes then, but couldn't see much. She knew he was close. She sensed him with a sick feeling in her gut. She was fearful, but forced herself to sit up. And then, he spoke. She shuddered as she remembered it.
"You've had it in you long enough, whore. It's time to give me that child!"
"No bloody way! The phrase I remember that kept repeating in my head for awhile, but it would never complete itself. Oh. My. God." Rhiannon whispered, softly.
She stepped out of the tub and began to dry her skin as more memories came flooding.
She remembered her immediate reaction. She looked at him incredulously and said,
"What?"
"Are you obtuse, as well? I know whom the child belongs to. Thanks, wench! Now I can get me some gold… how to go about this?" he pondered while rubbing his hands together.
Rhiannon recalled being knocked backwards. She guessed he hit her on the head again.
The next thing that happened after that, was waking up after what seemed like several hours later, realizing the cursed monster had violated her — and that seemed to set something in motion.
She knew it now. She remembered it. She recalled she awoke in horrible pain, deep in her belly. It spread to her lower back, hips, and the tops of her thighs. A white hot, seering pain that took her breath away. It came and went, gradually increasing in intensity and lasted many hours. Just like how she felt with Sela, except, that occurred closer to Sela's birth, than with her first.
"My first." Rhiannon whispered.
She put her shift on, then covered herself with her robe. She couldn't believe it. She really was a mother to a living, breathing child.
"Oh, my God. I remember it." a beat. "Fuck!" she muttered.
Then, she opened the door and breezed into the bedchamber. She began hunting through her gowns in the tall ornately crafted wardrobe. She needed to find something suitable.
The doors of the bedchamber opened and the Sheriff looked to her, curiously.
"Rhiannon? What are you doing? Do you really need to worry about dressing now? Or, are you organizing tomorrow's gown choice? There's no need to be rooting through your gowns at this time. Come wife. Our trays will be — "
"I'm sorry, George." Rhiannon said as she turned toward him, holding one of her gowns over her arm.
"Sorry for… what, my lady?" he asked, curiously.
"What I've put you through, by blocking all of that cursed codswallop out of my mind! But, it's true. It's all true! I… remember it now." Rhiannon said as she walked toward him.
His eyes widened as he grasped her shoulders.
"Rhiannon? Are you sure?" the Sheriff said, softly.
"I remember how it started. Then, I remember I had to manage it on my own when he was born. I tore the ribbons from my shift, and tied the cord as tightly as I could in two places. I used a dull knife — one used as cutlery, by the way — to saw at it between the two spots that were tied off. Then, I held him to my chest." Rhiannon explained as a tear rolled down her cheek.
"Rhiannon." he whispered. "Do you remember anything else from when you were delivered of him?"
"Yes, my love. He… he let out a gasp, then a soft cry after a few seconds. Then, he was alert, yet quiet and peaceful as I began to plot getting us the hell out of there. I remember I looked at him a moment, thinking he was the exact image of you, George. Just as he is now. And, then… oh, God… " Rhiannon sighed. She paused a moment to wipe the tears from her face.
"What is it, my angel?" the Sheriff asked softly, as he began to stroke her arms.
"And then… I felt an odd heat rush course through my entire body, and warm sticky liquid flowed from me. I looked at the baby again, then I looked up. I was panicked and… whispered a sort of… prayer to you." she whispered.
"Dear Zeus, my angel. You were in trouble then. You were losing your senses. Although, perhaps whatever you said helped you feel better?"
"It did, because it worked, sugar. I asked you to come quickly because I was bleeding. I needed you to come for our child. Then, it just became… horrible after that." Rhiannon said, then she couldn't hold back the tears any longer.
"My lady, do not cry. It's over now." he whispered as he held her in a soothing embrace.
"He laid on my chest, content and peaceful through all of this, George. It seemed to go on for awhile. The blood kept trickling. I could feel it pooling. And, even though I desperately wanted to, I couldn't do anything about it. I became cold, shaking, couldn't get warm. I couldn't move. My breath became laboured, and my vision blurred. Then, just before everything went black, I saw the cursed hooded man looming over me. Then, I felt the weight of… our boy being lifted from my chest." Rhiannon cried.
Nottingham was stunned. This was a terrible memory to come to her. He couldn't imagine the overwhelming fear she must have felt in that moment. He was very grateful he found her soon after that.
"Rhiannon. It's alright, my love. He can never hurt you again. You will never be alone to face that kind of danger ever again." he soothed as he stroked her dampened hair.
"I'm sorry, George." she whispered.
"There's nothing to forgive, Rhiannon."
Rhiannon extricated herself from his embrace. She wiped the tears away and looked up at him.
"I need to get dressed." she said, simply.
"What?"
"Too many people have seen me in these nightclothes today, George. Just this morning, Meridwyn and Sir Guy were witness to it. Of course, they did come by quite early in the day."
"And, you hadn't slept all night. You must be exhausted, my lady."
"No. I'm more awake now than I've ever been. I'm getting dressed, George. Then, I'm going to get our son. It's ridiculous that he's in those rooms by himself. He's only a baby boy, George!" Rhiannon huffed. Then she doffed her velvet robe, laying it across the bed.
The Sheriff regarded her, stunned.
"He's not alone. He has Lady Margaret with him. And, you don't need to dress for that, angel. He won't know the difference."
"Lady Margaret is a good carer, but she's not his mother. And, she already saw me in my nightclothes this morning, too." Rhiannon said as she put her navy wool tartan gown on over her head.
"She's seen you look worse than that." the Sheriff chuckled.
"Well, that just makes me appear enfeebled. And, being enfeebled implies weakness. I'm not weak, George. Neither is our son. He will always know his mother is a lady, too. And, ladies don't go around showing themselves to people in their nightclothes, George." Rhiannon said as she began fastening the buttons on the bodice of her gown.
"Very well, my lady. So, you said you wanted to get our son?"
"Yes. We're bringing him in here. He's going to sleep with us, George. Right next to us. The hell with his cradle. He's been away from us for too damn long. We'll bring his toys, his milk, and his wee baby snacks while we're at it." she said, firmly.
"Uhh… you sure you want to do that?" he asked.
"I'm very sure. Why are you hesitant?"
"What if… we smother him? He's quite small yet."
"We won't, lover. It's natural parental instincts that will keep him safe. He needs to be with us. It's time we had proper family time." Rhiannon said.
"Very well. Come, my lady." he smiled, then extended his arm out to her. "Let's go and get our son."
She took his arm and smiled up at him. The Sheriff leaned down and softly kissed her cheek, then they left the private chambers and went straight to the baby's rooms.
Nichol had just spent the last hour ravishing the hell out of his lady. Now, he was reclined in her bed against several pillows, waiting for her to return. He hated the idea of her waiting on him like a servant, but she insisted she would return directly with food and drinks for them, reminding him that it was either that, or she'd have to summon Helewise to bring them a tray.
Finally, she entered into the bedchamber carrying a large tray.
"I'm sure you're hungry, Nichol. You had a busy evening before you even arrived here, and then, well… we were busy. No doubt you're starved. And, parched!" Kaeliss smiled as she set the tray down. She poured some wine from a flask and brought a goblet over to him, then set another goblet aside for herself.
He took it from her, gratefully.
"It's kind of you to go to all this trouble, my lady. It's not necessary, however."
"Of course it is, Nichol." she smiled. Then, she went back to where the tray was.
She was there a few moments, then returned with a plate and two napkins. She sat on the bed beside him and kissed his cheek. Then, she put the plate on his lap.
"Oh! Trying to get rid of your food supply, my lady?" Nichol chuckled.
"It's only a bit of roasted pheasant, some bread, cheese, fruit, and nuts."
"Alright." he said. He picked up a piece of the roasted pheasant and fed it to her.
"Mmm. Delicious. Almost as delicious as you are." she smirked.
"Oh, really now?" he whispered.
"Indeed." she said. She grabbed her goblet of wine from the table beside her.
"A toast, Kaeliss." Nichol said as he held his goblet out toward her.
"Great! What are we drinking to, Nichol?"
"To us, my lady. We found each other. We shall cherish that." he said, softly.
"Mmm. Perfectly said, lover. I do cherish it. I cherish you. To us." Kaeliss smiled as she touched her goblet to his.
They each sipped of the wine as they gazed deeply into each other's eyes.
"You… cherish me?" he asked.
"Indeed, Nichol. I do. You're noble, kind, handsome, and we're a perfect fit. Don't you think?"
"Oh, I'd say we fit together very nicely, beautiful." Nichol smirked, salaciously.
"Indeed, lover." she smiled, contentedly. She took a few grapes from the plate and began to nibble on them.
"Are you content, my lady?" Nichol asked. He took a bite of roasted pheasant, then followed that with a sip of the wine.
"Yes. Especially when you're with me." Kaeliss smiled.
"Good."
"And… you?" she asked.
"I'm quite content, too, my lady. I've been wondering where the hell you've been when I needed you."
"It wasn't our time then, Nichol. This is our time." she whispered. She nuzzled into him and stroked his chest.
"So, it would seem. Might be an odd question, but… do you see yourself with me a month from now?"
"What kind of a strange question is that, Nichol?" she asked, looking up at him, curiously.
"I told you it was an odd question, Kaeliss."
"It's odd because I only think of you, Nichol. Even when we're apart, I'm…on fire for you." Kaeliss whispered.
"That pretty well sums up my end of it, too. Good. Perfect." a beat. "You're invited to yet another party in just under a month." Nichol announced.
"I am?"
"Indeed. It's the Sheriff's Lieutenant's wife's birthday celebration, my lady. Just a small gathering, but you're meeting them all on Friday at the dining engagement for the Prince and his wife." Nichol explained.
"That sounds lovely." Kaeliss smiled.
"Does it?"
"Yes, because I'll be your guest. I shall be proud to be on your arm."
Nichol picked up the plate and set it on the table beside him. Then, he turned to face her and caressed her cheek.
"I'm pleased to hear you say that, my lady." he whispered.
"It's the truth." she smiled.
Kaeliss sat up and removed her dressing gown. She wore nothing underneath it. She took the dressing gown and tossed it aside, then laid down beside her lover, facing him. She began to kiss him as she stroked his face.
"Kaeliss." he whispered, breathlessly. He ran his hand over the length of her body, then found his way between her thighs. He began to touch her intimately, stroking her softly.
"Fuck, Kaeliss. You're my dream lady. You're ready for me. Again." he growled. He felt himself instantly harden.
"I told you. I'm on fire for you all of the time." she whispered. She opened her legs so he could gain better access.
"I need to fuck you, beautiful." he growled.
"Good. Because I need you, too. But first, let me pour a little wine on you." she said as she gently pushed him to his back and began to stroke him. "I want to drink my wine from you, lover."
"Jesus, lady! Fuck, you've got me hard as a fucking rock!"
"Good. That's the idea." Kaeliss smirked.
She quickly reached for her goblet, then slowly poured it onto his manhood. She put the goblet back on the table, then leaned down and began to softly lick every drop of the wine from him. Then, she took all of him in her mouth and began moving her head back and forth, slowly, then rapidly, sucking and licking him while she stroked him simultaneously.
"Fuck, Kaeliss. That's it! Damn, lady, you're… so good." he moaned, softly.
"Because you made me this way." she purred, then continued her oral ministrations for quite a few moments longer. Until he worried he would release in her mouth.
Then, she stopped. She climbed on top of him and mounted him. Then, she began to grind him.
"Fuck, my lady!" Nichol moaned.
"Oh, lover, you feel so good!" she squealed as she continued to ride him.
Lady Gunilda had secured her horse. She took in a breath, before heading to the door. George gave her good advice, but she ignored the escort part of it. She had her enchanted dagger tucked into her boot, and she had her powers, though she didn't like to use them in the company of strangers. The unfamiliar door man nodded for her to go on inside.
The place was bustling. She walked inside, looking around her for a table. She advanced further until she was close to the centre, then she stood still when she saw him at the back, seated with the security man she recognized. She guessed that was Slayer, whom the Sheriff had spoken of. Slayer was looking to be eating something from a bowl while speaking, and Drake was nodding, sipping from a mug.
Slayer took a sip of his lemonade, then started to look around. He had a strange sense they were being watched. He looked to his left and saw the comely raven haired lady he'd noticed a couple of times before. She couldn't take her eyes off of Drake.
"Hmm. Speaking of a pretty lady and what she likes… there's one who can't take her eyes from you, Draco, right." Slayer smirked.
"Hmm. That will have to be too bad. I'm already spoken for." Drake scoffed, then took a generous swill of mead from his mug.
"Does she have dark raven hair, pretty eyes, with eyelashes, right, that go on for days? Because, if she does, mate — she's here." Slayer announced.
"What?"
Slayer nodded to the left of him.
Drake slowly turned to his right. She was right there. Standing about ten feet away. She smiled at him. He smiled and stood from his chair, as Slayer observed them looking at one another. He quietly chuckled, and took another mouthful of the delicious soup that Edeva had brought to him.
Drake began to advance toward her as Lady Gunilda slowly came forward. Finally, they were standing close, only a foot apart.
"I want to kiss you, but, now is perhaps not the time." Drake said, softly.
"Indeed. Save it for later, Drake. I'm going to need you to escort me home. Sheriff's orders." she smirked.
"What?" Drake asked, incredulously.
She leaned in close to him and whispered into his left ear.
"I'm his newly appointed espial, handsome. I'm here to work. Later, after you escort me home… I'll work on you." she whispered, then tickled his earlobe with her tongue.
"Oh, fuck." Drake muttered.
"Do not worry, Drake. We can do this. Screw him and his great grandsire routine of late. Right now, we need to somehow get some information from Slayer. George told me you mentioned to him that two of the men you handled last night acted like they knew him. Correct?" Gunilda asked, softly.
"Yes. That is true. They knew him from this tavern." Drake whispered with a nod.
"I take it he's on a break?" Gunilda asked.
"Yes."
"How much longer do you think we have with him, Drake?" Gunilda asked while side eyeing toward Slayer.
"At least a few minutes more." Drake whispered. "But, how the hell will you do this? He can't know you're an espial."
"We're both sharp witted, Drake. It will come to us." Gunilda winked.
"Alright. Come. I'll formally introduce you." Drake said. He nodded for her to follow him.
"Oh, good. You're back, Draco, right. I wasn't too sure I'd see you again tonight?" Slayer smirked.
"I'd like to introduce you to a friend of mine, Slayer. This is Lady Gunilda." he said, nodding beside him.
"Pleased to meet you, Milady. Slayer Martel." Slayer nodded as he stood from his seat.
"Likewise. No need for formalities. Please. Be seated, Slayer." Gunilda smiled.
Drake pulled out a chair for her, as Slayer resumed his position. Then, they all sat, huddled together.
Within moments, Edeva, the pretty blond serving lady appeared.
"May I get something for you to drink, Milady?" Edeva asked.
"Just a goblet of mulberry juice." Gunilda nodded.
"Very well." she nodded, then looked to Drake. "Are you getting low on your mead, Sir? Shall I bring another?"
"No, thank you. Just water." Drake smiled.
"Mmm. Right." she said, then she turned to Slayer. "Seems you're rubbing off on the patrons, Slayer." Edeva scoffed.
"Better than dealing with a room full of drunks, love, right?" Slayer said.
"I suppose. Just keep the sober folks at this table. Otherwise, Charlie might be a bit put out when he tallies up the money situation later."
"Don't you give another thought to that, love. Take a look around, right. Or, maybe you've been too busy? There's plenty of folks guzzling spirits around here."
Edeva looked around her, then sighed.
"Hmm. I guess you do have a point." a beat. "Right. I'll return directly with mulberry juice and water." she smiled, then took leave of them.
"So, have you noticed any… suspicious characters coming in here lately?" Drake asked him.
"Have you not been paying attention, mate? I meet suspicious people in here on the daily, right." Slayer scoffed, then took a sip of his lemonade.
"Like the ones we met last night, I mean. They knew you from visiting this place." Drake said, pointedly.
Slayer narrowed his eyes, then side eyed Lady Gunilda as he spoke.
"Don't think we should be talking about that, Draco, right?" Slayer warned.
"The Sheriff is a friend of mine, Slayer. I first met him over nineteen years ago. He's told me about the… rebellion thing." Gunilda said, softly.
"What?" Slayer asked, incredulously. He looked to Drake and nodded toward Gunilda. "Is she on the level, mate?"
"Yes." Drake nodded.
Slayer looked to Lady Gunilda. "Why do I have a feeling, right, that you put him up to asking me that question?"
"Drake is free to use his own free will. I've nothing to do with it." Gunilda shrugged.
"Hmm." Slayer nodded. He took a sip of his lemonade and looked back to Drake.
"Have you recognized any of the Jesus blokes tonight, Slayer?" Drake sighed.
"No, mate. Not tonight. Most of them would be discreet about that, right, if they were smart. I'd previously seen the two we dealt with, and there's a few others I know of, but I haven't seen them. It's early yet. They could still show. Some folks try to gain access when we're closing. They never stop filing in, right." Slayer sighed, then took a spoonful of the soup.
"Well, except for you being here, this was a time waster." Gunilda whispered softly to Drake.
"We'll bide our time. And… I was coming to see you, anyway." Drake whispered back.
"What are you two chatting about?" Slayer asked, curiously.
They were interrupted just then by the arrival of the pretty blond server.
"Sorry to keep you waiting." Edeva said. "Right. Mulberry juice for you, Milady." she smiled as she placed the goblet in front of her. "And, water for you, Sir. Did you finish the mead?"
"No." Drake said.
"Very well. I'll collect that mug when you're finished." she said, then looked to Slayer. "We've got a few real live ones tonight, Slayer." she sighed.
"What? Where? I haven't noticed anything. Since when, Edeva?"
"Since… probably around the time you started your break. There's a group of them taking up a couple of tables closer to the door." Edeva rolled her eyes.
"I'll see them soon. My break is about to end. Why isn't Blaise handling this by now?" Slayer asked, his eyes narrowed, suspiciously.
"Relax. It hasn't gotten to that stage that we need intervention yet, big guy. Charlie just told me to keep my eyes peeled in case things escalate." Edeva explained.
"Right. Cheers, Edeva. I'll be sure to watch for that on my way to the door." Slayer nodded.
"You can't miss them, Slayer. Trust me." she said with a knowing look.
"Alright. You know I do, love. Cheers." he smiled.
The serving lady smiled back at him, then turned to leave them.
"My! You two are surely happy. Good for you! What a lovely pair you make." Gunilda smiled, then sipped of her juice.
"Oh. Edeva? That lovely lass, right, she's just a good friend of mine. No more. You get to know people proper well when you spend several hours every day with them, right?" Slayer pointed out.
"Oh. I see." Gunilda nodded.
"Right. My break time is over. I'll leave you to it." Slayer said as he stood from his chair. "You know where to find me if you need me for anything, Draco, right?"
"Indeed. That goes for you if you notice anyone suspicious, too." Drake said, firmly.
"Of course, mate." he nodded. Then, he looked to Gunilda. "A pleasure to meet you, Milady."
"Likewise." Gunilda nodded.
The Sheriff was back in the private chambers with his own little family… at last. Rhiannon sat on a chair, holding the baby. The child sleepily looked up at her, content after just drinking some goat's milk. The Sheriff poured a measure of brandy into two goblets, and took one to his wife while he placed his on a table.
She smiled as she took it from him. She took a sip from it, then set it on the table beside her.
"Mother must burp you before you drift off to sleep, sweet boy." she smiled. She held the child to her and patted his back as he made cooing sounds.
"I knew you'd be a natural, my lady." the Sheriff said. He fed her a small bite of roasted duck.
"Mmm. Thank you, sugar. That is very tasty." she smiled. "Since you seem full of energy, maybe you could look in on the fire in our bedchamber? We mustn't have him getting a chill." she said, nodding to the baby.
"Right." he nodded.
Just then, there was a knock at the door.
"Curses. What a time for an intrusion." he muttered, then he went to the door.
He was a bit surprised when he opened it.
"Good even, Meridwyn. Shouldn't you be with Guy?"
"That's what I'd like to know." Meridwyn said.
"Come in." he said.
Lady Meridwyn nodded and stepped inside. She was immediately startled to see Rhiannon looking quite content as she held the baby in her arms.
"Oh. I'm sorry. I don't mean to intrude." Meridwyn frowned, then looked downcast.
"Intrude? You're family, Meridwyn." Rhiannon sighed. Since she'd successfully burped the baby, she turned him around, so he was facing out. "Look, sweet boy! Auntie Meridwyn is here to see us."
"Rhiannon?" Meridwyn asked, bewildered by the sudden change in her behaviour.
"It's fine, Meridwyn. The missives worked. I remember him. Isn't that grand?" she smiled.
"Seriously?" Meridwyn asked. Then she became distracted for a moment and began to rub her lower back.
The Sheriff observed that Meridwyn didn't look quite right to him. Something was off, but he couldn't put his finger on it.
"Yes. I remembered… quite a bit. There was a lot I had blocked." Rhiannon nodded, then she bent down and kissed the top of the baby's head.
"That's wonderful! Good for you, Rhi. I want to hear all about it. Perhaps on the morrow?" Meridwyn said, then she turned to face the Sheriff. "Didn't you and your men arrive back awhile ago?"
"Yes. At least an hour now. Why?" he asked.
"I thought I'd see Guy by now. I hardly saw him all day." Meridwyn said, then she looked to her friend. "The last time I saw him was briefly. The time I told you about several hours ago, Rhi. When he mentioned Robert and Isabelle were going to visit the baby. That was long before Isabelle's riding lesson." Meridwyn explained. There was a brief pause, then she couldn't ignore it any longer. Her hands went to her lower back and she began to massage her back. "Oh!" she exclaimed, frowning.
"Meridwyn?" the Sheriff asked.
"What is it, dearest?" Rhiannon asked. She stood from her chair, still holding the baby to her, and walked toward her.
"Give me a… moment." Meridwyn whispered. Then, she focused on her breathing.
The Sheriff and Lady Rhiannon cast curious glances at one another.
Meridwyn exhaled sharply, then closed her eyes a moment. She opened them and looked to them both.
"Good. That's better. I think she's… kicking in there, or something." Meridwyn smiled, ruefully.
"I remember feeling movement from Sela at times, but it certainly didn't take my breath away, Meridwyn. And, I didn't feel it in my back. Something isn't right, dearest!" Rhiannon exclaimed.
"She's right, Meridwyn. You don't look right. You had better sit down." the Sheriff said. He went to her and guided her to a chair.
Meridwyn seated herself and looked up at him.
"Where the hell is my husband? Did you assign him tasks upon your return from wherever you two took off to?" Meridwyn demanded.
"No. I assumed he'd join you directly. I've no idea where he is." he said.
"Well, isn't that just convenient!" Meridwyn huffed. Then, her eyes widened. "Oh, no. Not… again!" she muttered, closing her eyes in a grimace. She bent forward in the chair, one hand held to her lower back, the other gripping the arm of the chair until her knuckles turned white. "Curses! I… need… him." she whispered, breathlessly.
"Oh, my God. George! The baby!" Rhiannon whispered.
"He's fine, my lady. Looks like he's nodding off." the Sheriff smiled.
"Not ours, sugar. Theirs!" she whispered, nodding to Meridwyn.
"I'll ask the sentry to summon for him, my lady. I'll also summon for Lady Margaret since she's already close by." he nodded. Then, he walked swiftly to the door to take care of it.
After a few moments, Meridwyn relaxed, then resumed sitting normally. She closed her eyes and relished the relief she felt.
"We're summoning for Lady Margaret, Meridwyn. Something is wrong." Rhiannon said, firmly.
"What I need is my husband, Rhi. I'm sure everything's fine. She's just… putting on a show in there, or something. Quite active, I'd say. That's good. She's strong." Meridwyn nodded.
"We've summoned for him, too." Rhiannon added.
"Good. That's all I need, Rhi. Guy will give me a back rub. Everything is just fi — " Meridwyn started to say, but was rudely interrupted again. She resumed the same bent forward position as last time, hands in the same places. "Damn it! This… is… "
"Oh, Meridwyn!" Rhiannon exclaimed.
Just then, Guy followed the Sheriff inside. He was astonished when he noticed his wife.
"That was fast!" Rhiannon said.
"I was on my way here after noticing my chambers were empty. What the hell is going on?" Guy asked as he moved in swiftly to his wife. He put his hand on her shoulder. "My love? What is happening, dearest?"
"I… don't… know." Meridwyn muttered in a barely audible whisper. She kept her eyes closed, and was breathing more rapidly than normal.
"How long has she been like this?" Guy asked them both.
"Not sure exactly." Nottingham said. "She hasn't been here long and she hasn't looked well since she came in."
At this point, the sentry showed Lady Margaret inside.
"Is everything alright with the wee laddie, Milord Sheriff?" she asked as she strolled into the den. Then, she stopped when she noticed Meridwyn. "Oh, dear." she muttered.
"As you can see, the boy is fine, Lady Margaret. However, Lady Meridwyn is not fine." the Sheriff said.
Lady Margaret nodded and walked closer toward her. She waited until the lady resumed a normal sitting position to question her.
"Alright, Lady Meridwyn. We're going to need to work quickly. How long has the pains been coming?"
"I've been feeling off for a few hours, but they've intensified since I arrived here. Maybe a bit more than a quarter of an hour?" Meridwyn guessed.
"Good. Any bleeding, or clear water flowing from you?" Lady Margaret asked.
"Must I… answer that in the company of my husband and brother in law?" Meridwyn asked, aghast at the idea.
"Yes. You must."
"No, for both." Meridwyn sighed.
"Any urge to… bear down?" Lady Margaret asked, pointedly.
"No. Oh, my God! Does that happen?"
"Eventually, yes. But, if I've anything to do with it, not until your child is due in the spring. We might have success stopping this, Milady."
"Stopping… what?" Guy asked.
"Labour, Sir Guy." Lady Margaret said, simply.
"What? No! It's much too soon! We mustn't lose her! Guy!" Meridwyn cried.
Rhiannon looked to her friend with a tear rolling down her own cheek. She looked down and shook her head, silently praying that Meridwyn and Sir Guy would be spared having to bury their child. She held her son close to her and kissed the top of his head.
"We will get through this, my love. We'll do everything we can to stop this from progressing." Guy said.
"Good. We need to get her in her bed. That's where you come in, Sir Guy." Lady Margaret said.
"Very well. I'll carry her back." Guy said.
"What? This is ridiculous. I can walk, Lady Margaret." Meridwyn argued.
"Sure, you can. But, you won't. Not while I'm in charge." Lady Margaret said, firmly.
"Why not?" Meridwyn asked.
"Walking can facilitate labour progression. If this were closer to the time your child is due, it would be different. I'd encourage walking if labour was slowing, or not progressing. At this stage, however, we must do everything we can to slow, then stop progression of your labours, Milady. Understood?"
"Oh. I see. Very well." Meridwyn sighed.
"Alright, my love. I'm going to pick you up now." Guy said as he bent down to her.
"No. Wait!" Meridwyn said as she closed her eyes and grimaced. She bent forward again, holding the arm of the chair, the other hand massaging her back. "I… can't do… this." she muttered as her rate of breathing increased. "Curses!" Meridwyn cried, shaking her head.
"Should I summon Mortianna to assist you?" the Sheriff asked the midwife.
"Yes. That would be helpful. We shall see how this goes. I may need Master Crumwell, too. I'll know better after a proper assessment, and commencement of the intervention I have in mind." Lady Margaret said.
The Sheriff nodded, then headed to the door leading to Mortianna's lair.
"Breathe, Sister." Rhiannon said as she walked closer to Meridwyn.
Meridwyn stayed focused on her breathing, and massaging her lower back with her hand. Her knuckles of the hand holding the chair were white again as she grabbed it hard, praying for this to stop.
Guy noticed her white knuckles and shuddered, imagining the pain she must be feeling.
At the end of it, she put her head in her hands and began to cry.
"This is horrible. We must stop this, Lady Margaret. Another baby cannot die!" Meridwyn exclaimed, then wiped the tears from her eyes and cheeks with a handkerchief she took from a pocket of the skirt of her gown.
"Of course, Lady Meridwyn. Let's get you to your bedchamber, my dear." the midwife said, nodding to Guy to go ahead.
Guy bent down and gently picked her up.
"Hold on to me, my love. It will be alright." Guy soothed.
Meridwyn placed her arms about his neck.
"It better be, Guy. I mustn't lose her." Meridwyn muttered.
"We successfully stopped Lady Rhiannon's labours. There's a good chance it will be successful in this case, too." Lady Margaret said, in an attempt to assuage her.
"But, she still lost the baby?" Meridwyn argued.
"Yes, my dear — because a deranged woman pushed her down a flight of stairs. It's doubtful that will happen to you. Come." the midwife said.
"Oh, right. I'd forgotten that part. Hard to keep anything straight while enduring this pure bollocks, I suppose." Meridwyn sighed. She looked to Rhiannon and the baby. "Aww, Rhi. You look like a natural mother, just as I knew you would one day. I can't believe he slept through all of this."
Rhiannon walked closer to her and kissed her cheek.
"It will be alright, dearest. You're in very good hands." Rhiannon soothed.
Meridwyn smiled ruefully, then leaned down to kiss the baby's forehead.
"Sleep, darling boy. Auntie will see you again soon for a proper visit." Meridwyn whispered.
Just then, the Sheriff and Mortianna came into the den. Lady Margaret instructed Mortianna to follow them to the Gisborne's chambers.
Lady Margaret held the door. Guy turned back to face his Cousin, as he held Meridwyn in his arms.
"I will keep you apprised, and let you know when she can receive visitors." Guy said.
The Sheriff nodded. The group of them exited and made their way down the corridor.
"Oh, George! I hope Lady Margaret can put a stop to this. Meridwyn was right. Another baby cannot die!" Rhiannon exclaimed.
"She's competent, my lady. You know this. She will do everything she can for her."
"It's horrible that we're in here, content and at peace having our miracle boy with us, while Meridwyn and Sir Guy are worried sick." Rhiannon sighed.
"I know, but there's nothing we can do now except hope for the best." he said as he kissed her cheek, then he caressed the baby's face.
"I'm not sure I'll get much sleep because I'm worried about her, but I'm going to change out of my gown. I'll take him with me and lay him on the bed while I quickly do that."
"Alright." he nodded.
A short time later, he went into the bedchamber to take the child's teddy in, having found it on the floor. Rhiannon was on the bed, laying on her side. She supported her head with her left hand, her elbow against the pillows as she looked down to the baby, who was laying beside her on his back. Nottingham walked toward them and sat on the bed beside them.
"He's just beautiful, my sweet. Look how peaceful he is. Probably more at peace than he's ever been." Rhiannon smiled.
"He is, my angel. He was well cared for, though. First, by his uncle and aunt, then Lady Margaret."
"I don't know where to start, coming up with a name for him?"
"We have time, my lady. Although, a discussion about that would distract you. There's nothing you can do for her right now. At least, take your mind off the matter for a brief while." the Sheriff pointed out.
"Very well. It would take my mind off it." she paused a moment then sat up, facing him. "My father had a good name, but it sounds too close to your friend, Nichol. Besides, I can't imagine addressing my son with my father's name. Same reason as I'd never be with a man named Nicolas, Robert, or Edward." Rhiannon shuddered.
Nottingham smirked, stifling a chuckle. "That's a good start. Any other thoughts?" he asked.
"I… I've often thought I'd like to use my late brother's name. He was dear to me. The three of us were very tight. We had to be after father died."
"Of course. But, that brings us to your problem with — "
"Yes, the name. I couldn't imagine calling out, "Edward!", or, "Eddie!" to my son. That was my brother. But, if I could incorporate it somehow. Like… my parents did for me. My middle name is Nicola, after my father, Nicolas. Apparently, my mother came up with that." a beat. "At least, she got that part right." Rhiannon sighed.
"I like the way she came up with that variation. Perhaps we could do the same with your brother's name, Rhiannon? Not Edward, but something sort of close."
"Hmm. We'll need to think about that. What about you, George? Is there anyone you want honoured in naming our boy?"
"Yes. My father's name. Giles." the Sheriff said, simply.
"Really?"
"Yes, Rhiannon." he frowned. "Is there a problem with that?"
"No. Of course not. It's just… surprising. You've told me you feel about your parents the way I feel about my mother. Yes, they made us, but they're like characters in a book to people like us." Rhiannon reminded him.
"I did feel like that. But, where we come from influences where we go. My father died protecting my mother and me, from a band of thieves similar to Locksley and his cursed cult of miscreant followers. You see, I've learned a few things that have given me pause. It's also my middle name, if that helps." the Sheriff said, softly.
"Then we should, George." she nodded.
"Really?"
"Yes. We should add Giles into one of the middle names." she said.
"You won't give me grief about this later?" the Sheriff asked as his eyebrow shot north, knowingly.
"No. Because sh — I would like that." Rhiannon said, softly.
Yes, George. She would like that. Your mother. Giles was your father, even if only very briefly. Rhiannon shuddered when she realized the time her son and she had been apart, was close to the same amount of time that Giles Nottingham had with the only child he ever knew.
Luke and Floria were heading to Floria's quarters on the second floor. Once they reached the top of the stairs they saw Sir Guy carrying Lady Gisborne, who was breathing hard and clutching him tightly, as well as Lady Margaret and Mortianna, following directly behind them.
"Damn. Things must be serious if she's here." Luke murmured, referencing the midwife.
"Luke? What's that?" Floria asked.
"I need a word with Sir Gisborne, Floria."
"Doesn't look like now is a good time for that, Luke." Floria cautioned.
"No. It's the perfect time."
"What? Luke!" she exclaimed in a whisper.
"Trust me, my love." he said.
He led her toward the Gisborne's door. He walked quickly, and Floria had to hurry to catch up with him. As Gisborne was about to enter through the door he noticed Luke nearby, making eye contact with him. He nodded, and then went inside. Lady Margaret and Mortianna followed.
"What on earth was that? You didn't even speak with him?" Floria sighed.
"Oh, I shall." Luke smiled.
"What?" Floria asked, completely confused.
"He'll be right out."
"And, how would you know that? Are you a seeer now?" Floria huffed.
Then, as if to punctuate Luke's prediction, Guy stepped outside of the door and walked toward them.
"What the… " Floria muttered.
"What is it, Luke? Be brief. My wife… isn't well." Guy exhaled sharply and frowned.
"I noticed. Can I be of service, Sir Guy?" Luke asked.
"Hmm. You were a help when Lady Rhiannon was knifed, and when George damn near died. Very well. Stick around. Wait out here. If the witch, or the midwife need anything, you'll be in charge of that." Guy said.
"Very well." Luke nodded.
"Oh, and… I'll get you out of morning duty in the armoury for this. I think he might have something new in mind for you, anyway, but… that may change." Guy hinted.
"Oh. I see." Luke said. He was most curious to know what Guy referred to, but he knew he'd find out soon enough.
"You best get to your rooms, Miss. it's awfully late." Guy said, addressing Floria.
"Yes. I will." she nodded. Then, she looked to Luke. "Goodnight, Luke. Thank you for… teaching me."
Luke smiled at her and winked, unbeknownst to Gisborne. She knew that meant she would see him sooner rather than later.
"Of course, Floria. Goodnight." he smiled.
Floria nodded, then took her leave.
"I need to go back inside. Wait here." Guy said.
Luke nodded, then Gisborne made haste into his chambers.
Ancel and Rebeccah were bidding a good night to one another at Rebeccah's door. They shared a languid, steamy kiss moments ago while seated on the sofa in her den. It was then Ancel decided it was best he should leave.
"Thank you, Rebeccah. That was just what I needed. The pleasure of your company." Ancel smiled.
"Indeed, Ancel. I enjoyed it. Every… part of it." Rebeccah blushed.
He put his hand softly to her cheek.
"And… things will only get better from here. I want to make you smile like you did this evening, every time I see you. You're… even more beautiful when you smile, my dear." he smiled warmly at her.
"Thank you. I'm pleased you think so." Rebeccah smiled. She cleared her throat. "I'm guessing you've a full day ahead of you on the morrow."
"No, oddly. It's Milord's way of thanking myself and my comrade who was with me in Sherwood. He's giving us a break tomorrow. The only thing I have scheduled so far is the Town Council meeting, then a training session." Ancel explained. He only decided to share those points with her because neither were a secret.
"Wait. Did you say… the Town Council meeting? Seriously?"
"Yes, my dear. It's my first one." Ancel nodded.
"I've heard of those. You have to be quite important to be invited to take part."
"Of course, my dear. One needs to be a member of the Town Council. Milord asked another of the top men, and myself to participate."
"I'm pleased for you, Ancel." Rebeccah smiled.
"I thank you, Rebeccah. It's meaningful to me to hear you say those words." a beat. "As far as I know, that's all that's on my agenda tomorrow. I could… see you again if you like? I could take you somewhere if it's not too cold." he suggested.
"I should say I'd like that, Ancel." she smiled.
"Rebeccah." he whispered as he pulled her close to him, not even caring to look to see if they were being observed. He kissed her softly for a few moments.
He gave her a smouldering smile, then turned with a flourish as he headed back to his rooms.
Drake was reclined beside Lady Gunilda in her bed. She was smiling contentedly beside him. He was looking at the ceiling, one arm behind his head, the other around Gunilda. He wondered if he was going to pay the price for going against the firm instructions of his employer.
Everything was perfect, except for that part. They stayed a little while longer at the tavern, then Drake escorted her home, as nothing of any significance was presenting itself at the tavern. The unruly blokes who occupied two tables near the door, it turned out, were celebrating the upcoming nuptials of one of the men in the group. They were loud, but nothing more. The pair spent a few moments speaking with Slayer, then bid him goodnight and went on their way.
Almost instantly, when Drake stepped through the threshold of Gunilda's cottage, they were upon each other, kissing breathlessly, and frantically removing one another's clothing. There was a moment Drake reminded her that Milord Sheriff wouldn't like this one bit, but Gunilda responded that they were capable of intimacy, and performing well in their roles for him. He was hard for her and needed her, so he hastily agreed.
And now, he had her beside him. He'd just finished taking her, and it was everything he imagined it would be, and more. Thinking about it made him desire her again. But, that doubt wouldn't leave. The Sheriff was inside his head, even as he wanted nothing more than to dive into her and pump her hard yet again. Drake sighed, softly.
"Want a drink, handsome?" Gunilda smirked.
"Mmm. That would be nice." he nodded.
She sat up, then put on her dressing gown. She looked over her shoulder and regarded him with a sultry smile, her shiny raven hair fell to her shoulders, shimmering from the candlelight bathing the room in a warm glow. He felt himself grow hard for her as he licked his lips, surreptitiously. She left the bedchamber, leaving him anticipating her touch once more.
Early Monday morning, the Sheriff awoke on his side, facing his wife, and their child laying between them. The child was alert, quietly playing with his teddy, and chewing on the ears of it. He soon noticed he was being watched.
"Oh. Fah!" the child laughed.
"Yes, my boy." the Sheriff whispered.
Rhiannon opened her eyes instinctively, aware that her child was awake.
"Good morrow, my sweet boy. You must be feeling hungry. Mother will get that." she smiled and bent down to kiss his cheek. Then, she arose from the bed and prepared to fetch the boy his goat's milk and cereal mixture.
A short time later, when she returned, her husband was sitting upright against pillows, the child on his lap.
"Oh, good. You're back. I must dress, Rhiannon. It's Monday. Those tend to be busy days" he said.
"Of course." she smiled. She set the bowl, the cup and the spoon upon the table beside the bed, then she took the baby and seated herself in a chair beside the table.
After he finished dressing, he turned toward her.
"I'll find out how things are faring with Meridwyn, my lady. If Lady Margaret is going to be tied up with that for the foreseeable future, we're going to need help. I will never ask you to give up every moment of your days to care for our boy, even though he's a good laddie."
"He's too young to be anything but good, George. He's darling and innocent; but, I do appreciate that. I'm happy to keep minding him in the meanwhile, though." a beat. "Yes. Do find out how Meridwyn is faring. I'm worried about her."
"Of course, my angel. I'll let you know when you can visit her." he said as he kissed her cheek.
The Sheriff touched his son's cheek, then went on his way.
He was surprised to see Luke standing guard outside of the Gisbornes' chambers.
"Luke? What the absolute hell are you doing here? You're supposed to be in the armoury shortly!" he whispered, impatiently.
"Yes, Milord. I'm here assisting Sir Guy." Luke nodded.
"Really? With… what, exactly?" he sighed.
Just then, the door opened.
"I'm going to need you to fetch me another flask of wine, Luke. Hmm. Better make that two flasks." Guy instructed while peaking his head out of the door. Then, he noticed his cousin standing there. "Oh. George." Guy nodded.
"The hell is Luke doing here? He's supposed to be in the armoury today." the Sheriff demanded.
"Right. Well, that sort of changed." Guy said as he stepped into the corridor and softly closed the door.
"How long has he been here?"
"All night, George." Guy said.
Luke sighed softly and looked to the floor.
"Could no one else assist you with whatever you needed?" the Sheriff sighed.
"No one else was around. Luke was, and he's been a great help, so I'm kindly requesting he be excused from morning duties in the armoury, Cousin. As soon as he returns with the flasks I requested, I'm sending him to his rooms." Guy explained.
The Sheriff sighed and shook his head.
"Very well. Only because these are extenuating circumstances." he said, then he looked to Luke.
"Before you run off to get the wine, you mind telling me what you were doing in the training area with Floria last evening?"
"Teaching her some self defence pointers, Milord Sheriff." Luke nodded.
"Hmm. We were wondering that, but we weren't certain. You must be careful being seen with her, Luke." he pointed out with a knowing quirk of his brow.
"Milord? Does she really work for you? I mean… she assists Madam Oberon, correct? Therefore, that technicality kind of puts a twist in rule number — "
"Crafty little bastard! Nice try, Luke. By that logic, only those in higher positions around here work for me, and the rest work for them. That's not how this works, lad. That's not how any of it works, and you know this." Nottingham sighed.
"Hmm. I never thought beyond the Seamstress, Milord." Luke muttered.
"I'm giving you a pass, Luke. Try and keep it discreet. Although, I do think that idea of yours holds merit."
"Which idea, Milord?" Luke asked, curiously.
"Teaching a few of the ladies around here some self defence tricks." Nottingham smirked.
"Milord?" Luke asked, incredulously.
"That will be a new assignment of yours in the coming days. As long as Lady Gisborne improves, because — " he started to say, but was interrupted.
"I want my Meridwyn to participate in those sessions." Guy said.
"Oh, I see. Very well." Luke nodded. Although, he was still a bit puzzled by the idea of heading up self defence sessions — for the ladies of the castle. "I'll go fetch that wine for you, Sir Guy. I'll return directly." he said, then took his leave.
"What news, Guy? How is your wife faring?" the Sheriff asked.
"It's stopped, Cousin." Guy closed his eyes briefly and exhaled a sigh of relief.
"Good news indeed, Gis! How did that happen?"
"Lady Margaret did a thorough examination. Said there was no sign of impending birth, therefore it was safe to go ahead with her recommendation to slow it. So, not long after we left you, we started her with taking a goblet of wine. She objected at first, because she tries to avoid spirits. She's getting a goblet of wine every three to four hours. Lady Margaret said this method worked successfully on Lady Rhiannon last month." Guy explained.
"It did. Everything was going perfectly — until she ended up being pushed down a flight of stairs in a burning manor. Anyway, that's encouraging that the wine is working."
"Indeed. Thomas has been notified, because Lady Margaret wants to review all of this with him. She says they should handle this together in case the pains return. For now, all is quiet, and my lady looks content and peaceful." Guy nodded.
"Good. Now, where were you yesterday? She said she was having a time finding you."
"I was working on a project with Gervase. He's back on duty, as you know." Guy said.
"What the hell would Gervase need you for? He has help in those stables. Groomers, exercise trainers, hay shovelers, and — "
"I needed him, George. Not the other way around. I needed him to help with something, so I could get it done expediently." Guy hinted.
"And, what was that?" the Sheriff asked.
"He helped me build a small little wagon. For your son, Cousin. It has tall sides so the wee lad won't fall out. There's a cushioned area to sit upon, a handle, wee wheels. If Lady Rhiannon wishes to take him anywhere out on the grounds, or whatever, it will be easier for her." Guy smiled.
"You're serious?" the Sheriff muttered, astonished.
"Indeed, Cousin. I put it in your office for now. I figured there was no sense bringing it up to your rooms. Imagine trying to haul that down the stairs with the wee boy inside?"
"I'm grateful, Gis. Very thoughtful of you." he smiled. Then, he cleared his throat. "Right. Will you be able to manage joining us for the Town Council meeting?"
"If things remain like this… yes." Guy nodded.
"Good. When shall I advise my wife to come by to visit? She's quite concerned about Meridwyn."
"I'd give it until at least midday. The pains didn't subside until around the witching hour. They finally stopped completely shortly before dawn. My lady is resting." Guy said.
"Good. I'll inform Rhiannon to wait until then."
"She looked much more at ease with your boy last night, Cousin. Does that mean — "
"Yes. She finally remembered. She remembered carrying him, then birthing him. And, that last part sounded like a nightmare. The way she described it when the bleeding started." the Sheriff said, softly. He shook his head and sighed. "We got to her just in time."
"Indeed, Cousin. Despite all of that they both survived, and they're both safe now. Finally, he's here, and you can begin to move on from that." a beat. "I hope Meridwyn doesn't have a time like that when the time comes — hopefully, not for several months." Guy frowned.
"Don't think about that, Gis. You'll make yourself insane, worrying too much. All is quiet now. Just think about today." the Sheriff advised him.
"You're right. I'm pleased to hear Lady Rhiannon remembered your son. Oh, there's one more thing I forgot to mention." Guy said.
"What's that?"
"Yesterday, when I went to the dungeon to speak to Joseph about the meeting, and separating the new prisoners, Alfred expressed an interest in joining in Nic's training session today. I didn't think it would be a problem, since the session is relatively short, so I approved it."
"Seriously? He usually just guards doors, Gis." the Sheriff reminded him.
"Yes, but he seems eager to learn. Castor said he'd be fine there until Alfred returned from training." Guy explained.
"I'm sure he would be. Very well. If Albert is eager to learn it, then, good for us, I suppose. The more men who are skilled with the crossbow, the better. Although, I'm not expecting him to perform as well as the others."
"I guess we'll find out later, Cousin. I best get back inside, in case Meridwyn wakens." Guy said.
"Very well. I'll leave you to it, Gis." he nodded, then headed back to his chambers to speak to his wife.
A few hours later, he went into the Council Quarters to put away some documents he didn't want seen when the meeting commenced later. He had the letter from the Sheriff of Hampshire, as well as the documents that were recovered from the church to stash away in a desk in there. He was just sorting through them, putting them in order, when Nichol walked in, with the stupidest of grins spread across his face.
The Sheriff looked up when he heard the door open. He looked upon his friend and scoffed before he spoke.
"Well, from the look of you, I can now guess why you disappeared when we were all returning back here last night. You took a detour, didn't you? Straight to Lady Kaeliss' home, I'd wager." the Sheriff chuckled.
"I think I… might love her." Nichol nodded as a smile curled his lips. He strode to the table and took a seat.
"What?"
"I think I… I've fucked her more in the last two days than I have any woman combined in five years. She's bloody perfect, mate! You don't understand."
"I think I have an idea." he smirked. "Except, I'm no expert on it, of course, but there's got to be more to it than just that, Nic. Have you actually talked with her much? Discovered any common ground?"
"Hmm. We have talked… a little, I guess. Mostly, however… we just fuck. Over and over, and every which way you can imagine. She's like my own personal little slut. It's a bloody miracle, mate. I'm telling you! I've been wondering where she's been." Nichol grinned, deviously.
"I'm glad for you, mate. But, perhaps you should exercise a bit more control, and find out if you like anything else about her?" the Sheriff said.
"I could try. It's hard to think of that when she's sucking the life out of me, though. Bloody hell! I thought I was going to explode in her mouth." he sighed. "Forgive me. Don't mean to bore you with details, but, she's got me in a daze of sorts. I never knew an actual noble lady could be such a perfect little slut in the bedchamber."
"Hmm. Some can." the Sheriff nodded. He looked down to the table and grinned, thinking of his own perfect little slut. He picked up the documents and took them to the desk.
"I can tell you she's smart, sweet, giving — oh, how she's giving!" Nichol chuckled, then continued. "She can ride. She can cook. She lives on her own. She… she keeps my belly full, and my bollocks empty, mate. She's beautiful, especially when she's riding my — "
"Sounds like quite the lady, Nic." Nottingham smirked. He put the documents in a drawer in the desk, then returned to the table.
"If things keep going like this, I might have to marry her. She makes it a challenge to pull out of her in time. It… might be hard not to plant my seed in her." Nichol sighed, then poured some water in a goblet for himself.
"If she didn't fuck your brains out of you the last couple of days, would you still think of asking for her hand?" the Sheriff asked.
"Possibly, but, I'd still need to bed her before I could decide, if that were the case. I mean, if you're going to marry a woman, better make it a good one. This one knows how to please me in more ways than one. I'd be a fool to pass this up." Nichol shrugged, then took a sip from his goblet.
"I don't think I've ever seen you like this?" Nottingham said.
"Christ, she's an excellent fuck, mate! I've never been with a woman like her. On top of that, she said she cherishes me. How perfect is that?" Nichol smiled.
"That sounds good, mate. Just remember none of them are perfect. But, if she's perfect for you, that's all that matters. Just… don't let her take up so much room in your head that you're distracted." Nottingham cautioned.
"Of course, George. But, when the day is done, I'm heading there to get looked after, since I can't think of anything better to do in my off time." Nichol winked.
"No doubt. Try not to think too much about that when you're leading the training session today."
"Like you, I can handle all of my roles, mate."
"Indeed. But, I'd give it more time before you ask for her hand, Nic. You obviously know her intimately, but you need to know more things about her than just that. For instance, has she said much about that ungrateful cousin of hers? They are related, after all." Nottingham sighed.
"She doesn't talk about her much. But, she's close to that maiden's mother. She's mentioned her Aunt Ostara a few times." Nichol nodded.
"Hmm. Yes. The apple is in a completely different orchard there. Your paramour's cousin is nothing at all like her affable and poised mother." a beat. "Has she told you anything else? I don't mean to be blunt, but if she's managed to let you take her every which way, as you put it… upside down and sideways, it doesn't sound like she saved her maidenhead for you." the Sheriff pointed out.
"Yes, I've been meaning to ask her about that. I never get that far, because… well, I guess you could say she's like a bitch in heat, mate. But, she did tell me she came here from London with her father a couple of years ago. She was set to marry. Her father arranged it. She wasn't too keen on it. The intended died while they were travelling here, and then her father died three months later. That's basically all I know so far." Nichol said, then took a sip from his goblet.
"Then… whom has she been fucking before you, Nic? There was obviously a lover before you." he pointed out.
"Hmm. Good question, mate. Next time I see her I must ask her. Truthfully, I think I might need to take a break for a day or two, else my cock might fall off."
"Damn! That's quite a declaration, mate. You don't hear too many men complain about that sort of problem." Nottingham laughed.
"I know, mate! But, I think I need to give the old boy a break." Nichol sighed.
At this point in time, north in Sherwood Forest, deep into the heart of it, Duke Farnsworth was just about to send Alex to locate a stream to take their horses to and refill their flasks, which Alex kept reminding them was nearby,
"Alright, Alex. We get it. You're water is getting depleted. You need to be more prepared, lad!" the Captain huffed.
"I'm quite sure we're close to it, Captain." Alex said.
"In that case, you are tasked to find it. We'll remain here and wait for you to direct us to it." Duke Farnsworth instructed.
Alex nodded, then steered his horse just north of them.
Duke Farnsworth looked to Richard and Nigel. Then, he took his flask from the pocket of his surcoat, uncapped it, and took a swig before he spoke.
"Alright. I can guess why you two have suddenly rejoined us in Nottingham. Correct?" he asked.
"We're… not permitted to speak of it, Captain." Richard said, shaking his head
"I'm part of the very exclusive, select few who knows of the situation, in case you'd forgotten who headed up the search mission for his abducted child." Duke Farnsworth pointed out with a knowing quirk of his brow.
"Indeed, Duke. The boring child minding days are behind us. He's in the castle now." Nigel nodded.
"Nigel! He asked us to keep our mouths shut." Richard admonished, exhaling sharply.
"Relax, Richard. Milord wouldn't mind the three of us speaking privately about it, I'm sure. We're in that group I mentioned." the Captain said.
"Duke? What the hell is going on with him? I swear, he's not right. He's gone bleeding daft!" Nigel sighed, shaking his head. His green eyes narrowed.
"What do you mean, Nigel?" Duke Farnsworth asked.
"Duke! He's recently hired a bleeding messenger, then a prisoner — of all people, to join the Black Knights. But, he wasn't done! He didn't stop there. He made them his top men! What the fuck, Duke?" Nigel spat.
"Both of the men you mention are invaluable to us, Nigel. They continuously exceed expectations. You'll need to accept that about Luke and Ancel. Now, what else has you questioning Milord's sensibilities?" the Captain asked, pointedly.
"Strange that you don't find that curious." Nigel remarked as his eyebrow shot north, suspiciously.
"What else?" he repeated.
"Alright. What the hell kind of punishment was that for the misconduct of Castor, and that Luke bloke? They look like they'd been in a tavern brawl, Duke; and, they just get new assignments for a couple of days?" Nigel pointed out to him, incredulously.
"I imagine it was influenced by a number of factors." Duke Farnsworth said.
"With respect, Duke… enlighten me." Nigel said.
"Nigel, let it go, man!" Richard admonished.
"The men reported that the skirmish took place after the sear — "
"Skirmish? Is that what you're all calling it? Have you looked at their faces? The pair of them beat the hell out of each other, Duke." Nigel huffed.
"That may be, but they resolved their differences and made their apologies. I'm sure that was weighed by the Sheriff when he decided on disciplinary measures." Duke Farnsworth explained.
"That isn't discipline. That's a bloody reprieve from the more difficult tasks the rest of us are doing." Nigel argued.
"Every move he makes is carefully planned. He hasn't made an impulsive decision in years. I'm not going to speculate on his reasoning. If you need specific answers, you'll need to ask him. But… I'd caution you not to. It comes across like your role is expendable. Understood?" Duke Farnsworth said, firmly.
"Yes, Captain." Nigel sighed.
Everyone was assembling in the Council Quarters. Present were the Sheriff, Guy, Robert, Nichol, the Scribe, Mordrid, Ancel, Joseph from the dungeon, Samson Fingle, Matheus Busby, Gregor, the Tax Collector, Cerdric, the Town Crier, Safforus, and, surprisingly, Slayer.
The men took their places at the table and looked to the Sheriff.
"Very good. A few new faces here today. This meeting is called to order. Now, some of you might not know some of the men you see at this table. Two of my top men are with us today." the Sheriff began. He gestured to both of them. "Men, this is Mordrid and Ancel. They are among the lead Investigators of the Black Knights. Next, we have Joseph." he said, nodding to him. "He is my Jailer. I thought it was about time we included him since the dungeon is getting busy, and it may get a bit crowded down there in the coming weeks."
Matheus exhaled a sigh and stared at his hands, clasped upon the table.
"Really, Milord? It's a right state of chaos down there as it is." Joseph said.
"Then, we may need to consider getting you more help down there, lad." Nottingham said.
"Thank you, Milord." Joseph nodded.
"Also, let me point out our first two members of City Watch, men." he said, gesturing to them as he spoke their names. "Safforus Forester, and Slayer Martel. Both have already been instrumental in assisting us in handling various situations in the last few days."
"Well done, both of you." Samson smiled, nodding to them both.
Samson, Gregor, and Cerdric introduced themselves to the men, telling Slayer they knew he was a good choice for City Watch.
Matheus was quiet. He sipped water from his goblet and looked at the table.
Guy noticed, and nudged his cousin. The Sheriff regarded him curiously, while the men were talking. Guy nodded toward Matheus. The Sheriff looked at Busby and frowned.
"Matheus? Have you anything to say?" the Sheriff asked. He hoped Matheus wouldn't use this time to express his concern for his brother.
"You're damn right, I do." Matheus huffed.
"Oh, fuck. Here we go." Mordrid muttered, almost inaudibly.
"What?" Ancel whispered to him.
"Milord, with respect, of course… what the bleeding hell is my brother doing in your dungeon?" Matheus demanded. Then, he looked to Joseph. "Do you know?"
The Scribe was quietly taking notes. He looked to Robert who was seated beside him.
"Robert, do you know what this is about?" he asked.
Robert had his head down, with his arms folded. The Scribe frowned, realizing Robert looked far too at ease. He nudged him gently.
Robert opened his eyes and looked over at him.
"What is it, Percival?" Robert whispered, quietly.
"You nodded off. Don't let him see that." the Scribe warned in a whisper.
"I only follow the rules. I don't make them." Joseph said to Matheus.
"He's there because he needs to be, Matheus." Nottingham said.
"How is Harriet supposed to manage all of my nephews and nieces, Milord? They only just had another baby boy a sennight ago! Now, Stanzi is over there incessantly, helping her; and we've our own little boy to raise. Stanzi helps me on the farm and at the market, too." a beat. "What exactly did Merek do to prompt you to toss him in your dungeon?" Matheus asked, still stunned from this recent development.
"I'm guessing he didn't tell you." Nottingham sighed.
"Tell me… what, Milord? I can't work out for the life of me why Merek would be branded a bleeding criminal. He's a hard working family man, Milord."
"That may be. Yes, he's a family man. We all know he's managed to singlehandedly colonize the whole damn town. However, he's a part of something else, too. And, I've a strong suspicion he kept that part of him secret from his family." Nottingham said.
"Well, if he is part of something, you got that right, because I'm his brother and I have no clue in Hell what it is he's allegedly a part of?" Matheus sighed.
"That would be… the Christian Brotherhood, Matheus." Nichol said.
"Thanks, Nic. I still refer to them as the Jesus Blokes." the Sheriff sighed.
"Wait. WHAT? You can't be serious? Merek doesn't even attend mass as much as Constancia and I do?" Matheus asked, incredulously.
"I'm surprised he has time to attend anything." Guy chuckled.
"No doubt." Nichol grinned.
"I suggest we fill you in after the meeting, Matheus. Rather than air this all out right here in front of the Council." the Sheriff said with a knowing quirk of his brow..
"Very well. I do have some questions, as I'm sure you do, too." Matheus relented.
"Good." he nodded, then addressed all of them. "Starting with City Watch. Things are running smoothly with that. Slayer and Safforus are quite capable, and excelled at a training session headed up by Nic yesterday. However, as I mentioned last week, we need to increase our numbers to make this venture even more effective."
"I know a few people, right, that might be interested in this venture, Milord." Slayer said.
"Anyone I might know, Slayer?" Safforus asked.
"You might, Saffy, right? One of them covers me on the occasions Charlie grants me a day off." Slayer said.
"How often is that?" Joseph asked, curiously.
"One night a week. Usually the early part of it. Thursdays to Sundays are out, right. We're busy those days." Slayer explained.
"Right." Nottingham sighed. "Well, that's good that you have connections, Slayer, because no one else has made suggestions." the Sheriff said.
"I can think of a couple of men who would be good in that role, but I don't think they'd have the time to devote to it." Samson shrugged.
"I've a brother who would be suited for this, Milord. He has no criminal past. He can fight, though. He survived the cursed Crusade, too." Gregor suggested.
"Good. At the end of this, leave his name with the Scribe. Same goes for you, Slayer. I need names. An assurance your associates have no criminal history would be helpful, too." the Sheriff said.
"No, Milord. None of them do that I'm aware of, right. They're good, solid blokes. Yeah. They would get the job done and give you no trouble." Slayer nodded.
"Perfect. Pass those names to the Scribe before you leave here later." he instructed him. Then, he addressed everyone seated. "Indeed. All of you keep your eyes open. If you notice anyone, or think of someone who would be a good candidate for City Watch, get their names to us. Slayer and Safforus have already proved themselves, but they can't be expected to watch the whole damn town, especially since they have other responsibilities they're juggling, along with their new roles. I want at least five more names by the next meeting. And, don't leave it to Slayer and Gregor to get those five names to me. Understood?" the Sheriff said, firmly.
The men all nodded.
"Good." he nodded. Then, he looked to his Scribe. "What's the next point of mention, Scribe?"
"Right. That would be… " the Scribe began as he retrieved the parchment he wrote the agenda on, from underneath the tablet he was using with chalk. He would transcribe the meeting notes to parchment later. "Yes. That would be the butcher shop, Milord Sheriff." the Scribe nodded.
Guy shook his head and grimaced.
"Ah, yes. Massacriar's fraud shop." the Sheriff said.
"Indeed." Nichol sighed.
"What a total dump." Guy muttered.
"Glad I missed that, now." Mordrid added.
"Agreed. Luke told me it was an utter disgrace." Ancel said, shaking his head.
"It was. I retched before scrubbing myself in the tub, once we returned." Nichol frowned.
"So, what's going on with his shop?" Cerdric asked.
"Indeed. It looked to be boarded up when I passed by it two days ago." Samson said.
"Massacriar's shop is closed until further notice. We stopped by on Thursday. I was there with Gisborne, Nichol, and Luke. You men were right. He was passing off horse and donkey meat as beef, and most of the meat was rancid. There was offal found in the back room that appeared to be prepared for sale. It was sitting on wrapping paper. The place looked like the bowels of Hell. Not sure what set off that turn of events, but, here we are. We tossed and burned every last bit of decayed random flesh he was peddling, and he was ordered to clean every square inch of the place. We boarded it up and posted notices. His membership to Council is suspended." Nottingham briefed them.
"Until when, Milord?" Gregor asked.
"Until such time as I'm satisfied his shop is fit to sell wares that are safe for the public's consumption. It's a miracle no one has reported illness. Have any of you heard of instances like that?"
Everyone shook their heads.
"If anyone gets sick from something they purchased from his shop, I want to know about it. Gregor, you will collect taxes from whatever the thief earned for this month when you collect in early December. After that, his business will be exempt until he's possibly back up and running."
"Noted, Milord." Gregor nodded.
"Next, I was going to mention the Jesus blokes and how we're getting on with that… " Nottingham began. Then, he looked to Matheus. "Now, I'm wondering if that will be a point of contention." he said as his eyebrow shot north, questioningly at Matheus.
"If he's a part of this, he's a damned fool!" a beat. "Continue, Milord." Matheus nodded.
"Good." the Sheriff nodded. He suddenly noticed Robert yawning. He sighed and shook his head, then he looked to Mordrid and Nichol. "I'll leave it to you two to fill in the Council about your mission on Saturday and what was uncovered."
Nichol nodded for Mordrid to begin.
"Two days ago a small contingency of us were sent to search key locations given to us by Milord, based on information obtained by interrogating the leader of the… Brotherhood cult. The mission was a success." Mordrid began.
"A number of documents were recovered. We found a mission statement, notes from meetings, a members list, attendance lists from each meeting, and — " Nichol was interrupted.
"Weapons." Mordrid said, simply.
"Seriously?" Samson asked, astonished.
"A whole shed load of them, to be precise." the Sheriff remarked with a knowing quirk of his brow.
"Unreal." Joseph muttered, shaking his head.
"I thought you said this was some sort of Christian group? Why the weapons?" Matheus asked.
"Are to we expect another incursion like ninety four, Milord?" Joseph asked.
"Sweet Christ, I hope not." Mordrid muttered.
"One of the mottos around here, Joseph, is to expect anything. Then, we are always fully prepared." he said, then he looked to Busby. "Don't let their moniker fool you. When they hold their meetings, I doubt there's prayers and bible study going on. They have a separate agenda from the rest of us." the Sheriff said with a knowing quirk of his brow.
Just then, there was a soft snoring sound interrupting them. Everyone looked around the table and all eyes landed on Robert. Some of the men began chuckling, as the Sheriff exhaled sharply.
"Robert!" he called out to him.
Robert jolted awake and looked up, embarrassed that everyone noticed he had nodded off.
"Are we keeping you awake?" Nottingham sighed.
"Forgive me, Milord. I… uh… had trouble sleeping last night." Robert sighed.
"Have some water, and try to stay with us." he said, sarcastically.
"Of course, Milord." Robert nodded. He took a few sips of water from his goblet.
"Milord? What's happening with that fugitive your men have been chasing?" Gregor asked.
"Ancel is a part of that team, except for today." the Sheriff began, then he looked to his newest recruit in the Black Knights. "I'll let you answer that one, Ancel." he nodded.
Ancel nodded, then took a brief sip of water before he addressed them.
"Following a lead that Safforus gave us, we headed in the direction he was last seen." Ancel began.
"Where?" Gregor asked.
"He was last seen in Sherwood, dressed as a monk. He was seen by a carriage driver, heading into the forest from the Great North Way, several miles north into it." Safforus said.
"Indeed. So, two days ago the team was scouring that area. We found the horse he'd stolen from Lady Hayward. It was left abandoned, so — " Ancel started to say, but was cut off.
"So, you all must have searched the perimeter surrounding the horse." Joseph guessed.
"Indeed. I followed a blood trail. I found gauze wrappings that had been used on a wound. We think he's in there somewhere. Obviously, not far because he's on foot, and it's looking like he's injured. Gerad and I stayed in Sherwood that night, and returned yesterday afternoon. We found more wrappings, and his flask. So, now we're looking for an injured funny looking ginger haired bloke — in case any of you notice a man matching that description." Ancel said.
"Yet, still he remains elusive." Cerdric said.
"Not if I have anything to do with it. We'll get him. We're getting close." Ancel nodded.
"Damn! I best be keeping my eye out for him, right, at the tavern. If he's on foot, has no water supply, and he's injured, he's liable to come strolling into the tavern, right. He'll be needing a meal and beverages, for sure, Milord." Slayer said.
"Indeed, Slayer. Everyone must be on the lookout for him, and alert us immediately if he is seen." the Sheriff said.
The meeting adjourned soon after that. Gregor and Slayer provided names to the Scribe for potential City Watch candidates. Then, most of the men left, except for the Sheriff, Guy, Robert, Nichol, and Matheus.
Matheus was briefed on what had happened Saturday night at the church, his brother's involvement with that, and his arrest. Next, he was questioned to make certain once more that he was truthful in his earlier statements. The Sheriff was quite convinced he knew nothing of it, however. He wouldn't have allowed Matheus to participate in their meeting if his gut told him otherwise.
"I don't understand this, Milord? I don't know what has gotten into him, but this is… shocking to me." Matheus frowned.
"Can you think of anything you've noticed recently that was unusual for him?" the Sheriff asked.
"No, not really, Milord." Matheus sighed. Then, a thought came to him and his eyes widened. "Hmm. There was that time over a fortnight ago."
"What happened?" Guy asked.
"Harriet couldn't find him. She was having some discomfort that evening and worried their baby was coming that night. He was gone for hours. We stopped by to take some things to her for the baby. She told us he left, and she didn't know where he went off to. But, she was bewildered by it, and frankly, so was I."
"Do you remember a date, or day of the week?" the Sheriff asked.
"Yes, Milord. It was three Thursdays ago. Hmm. I suppose that would have been… October thirtieth?" Matheus shrugged.
Nichol and Guy gave knowing looks to the Sheriff. He nodded to them, then he sighed and looked back to Busby.
"The looks you just gave each other tell me you know where he might have been." Matheus frowned.
"Indeed." Robert muttered, as he paused a moment from taking notes at this private meeting.
"Yes, I'm quite sure I know where he was that night, Matheus." the Sheriff nodded.
"And, I bet that wasn't the first time he took off on a Thursday night, either." Nichol scoffed.
"Where, Milord?" Matheus asked.
"The Jesus blokes meet every other Thursday night. That's what the Priest revealed to Guy during interrogation." he said.
"Indeed. He did say that." Guy nodded.
"What? Why would he do this? What incentive would there be? This is insanity." Matheus huffed.
"We're not sure about his reasoning, but we shall find out."
"Did he… kill anyone, Milord?" Matheus asked, nervous to hear the response.
"Not that I'm aware of, Matheus."
"So… there's a chance he could be released?"
"We won't know until he's questioned, along with the other ones we've got locked away down there." he said.
"You're welcome to search my home, too, if you must. And, if you could keep me apprised of any new developments with him, I would be much obliged, Milord."
"Of course, Matheus." he nodded.
"Can I see him?" Matheus asked.
"Not until he and the others are questioned." he said.
"Right." Matheus sighed. "Very well."
Matheus left soon after that, then Nichol took leave so that he could start with the next crossbow training session.
"Alright. Now that it's just us three, would you mind sharing why the hell you could barely stay awake through our meeting, Robert?" Nottingham asked, his amber hazel eyes narrowed upon him.
"Forgive me. It won't be repeated." Robert said.
"Was Lady Isabelle having a bad night? You don't look right, Robert." Guy added.
"No. She was having a grand night of it." Robert sighed.
"Then… why do you appear as if you're about to fall over?" Nottingham asked.
Robert sighed and took a sip of water from his goblet.
"Robert? Out with it." he said firmly, waving his fingers toward him. "You're one of my Advisors and Zeus knows how much you got out of that meeting. I agree they're usually painfully boring, but even I can stay alert for them — which is a sodding miracle. Come on. Out with it!"
"Last night was just… another one of those nights." Robert said, evasively.
"That tells me nothing, Robert. Why were you unconscious through parts of the meeting?" the Sheriff pressed.
"She… wouldn't leave me alone. Isabelle. She was like… an animal during mating season. I… don't know what's come over her, but when I have duties the following day, it's… disruptive. To my sleep."
"Really?" the Sheriff scoffed.
"Well, congratulations, Robert. That can't be too bad, could it?" Guy asked, grinning.
"All night long, Sir Guy? Finally, when I was leaving her this morning, she was sound asleep. I was almost angry at her for that. Almost." Robert sighed.
"This is reminding me of a chat I had earlier with Nic." Nottingham chuckled.
"What do you mean, George?" Guy asked.
"Seems Lady Kaeliss is wearing him out, too. He actually said he'd need to take a break from her for a day or two — because he's worn down, and worried it… will fall off."
"Ha! Deadly!" Guy laughed.
"Wait until he lives with her. For now, he can get away from her if needs be. What the devil am I supposed to do? Go sleep in the library?" Robert sighed.
The Sheriff and Guy couldn't hold back their laughter.
The men were gathered in the fenced in training area to begin their lesson. Nichol had just set the chair down on the grass and took the large bag from his shoulder. He set it on the ground, opened it, and removed the necessary writing supplies, and the two crossbows.
Then, he straightened and looked to the seven men who were gathered.
"Good. Another good turn out today. Good to see you with us, Alfred. It is Alfred, isn't it? Sir Guy told me you were a last minute addition to today's roster, so to speak." Nichol said.
"Yes, Nichol. That is correct. It's nice to meet you. I've heard great things about you." Alfred nodded.
"It's good to meet you, too, Alfred." Nichol smiled. Then, he addressed them collectively. "Now, two of you were present when we met with Fingle on Wednesday. As for the rest of you, have any of you handled a crossbow?"
Everyone shook their heads, except Alfred, who nodded.
"You've used one, Alfred?" Nichol asked.
"Yes." Alfred said.
"I see. How long ago?"
"Last week." Alfred nodded.
"What? I've never even seen you use a longbow!" Emory exclaimed, incredulously.
"Or… any weapon, really." Gerad said.
"Don't usually need them when guarding doors. Well… not as much as you would." Alfred shrugged.
"Then… how the hell do you have experience with crossbows?" Adam asked.
"Indeed." Drake sighed.
"My cousin taught me quite awhile ago. He used one in the Crusade. We meet up frequently and practice." Alfred explained.
"Ha! This has got to be a joke, right?" Gerad chuckled.
"We shall see, men. Alfred shall have his moment to demonstrate his skills. Now, as we go along, some of you will perform better than others. I shall be taking notes, but remember, men: this is not a competition. If you can just meet the expected number of bolts fired per minute, and hit that target over there… " Nichol pointed to the target that was fastened to the tree some seventy yards away from them. "Then, you're golden. It's really not as difficult as you may think."
"What do you mean by bolts, Nic?" Adam asked.
"They're like arrows." Alfred said.
"He's right. The bolt is the projectile that is fired from the crossbow. It's sort of similar to an arrow, but… " Nichol began. He bent down and reached for one of the bolts from inside his large leather bag. He held it up to show to them, then he passed it around. "That is a bolt, men. As you can see, it's in the same vane as an arrow, but it's quite different."
"What exactly makes these weapons so special, Nic? All I see are most archers avoiding them since they're a pain in the arse to load." Gerad said.
"Take a look at that bolt. The tip of it is called a quarrel. Again, similarly shaped like an arrowhead, but it's different. There's four sides to that quarrel, men. Those things have been known to penetrate plate armour, and they can more easily pierce chain mail armour than an arrowhead, sometimes even better than the tip of a sword." Nichol said. His eyebrow raised over his vivid green eyes, knowingly.
"Really?" Emory asked.
"It's a fact." Nichol nodded.
"Why is it that neither of you have questions?" Gerad asked the two top men.
"We already got tutored on those facts by Samson on Wednesday." Mordrid nodded.
"Indeed." Ancel said.
"Of course, you did." Adam sighed.
"They're going to have us all beat today." Emory remarked, shaking his head.
"It's not a competition, Emory. Remember that." Nichol said.
"Why would we need weapons with the capability of piercing chain mail and plate armour, Nic?" Drake asked, suspiciously.
"They sound more suited to battle to me." Adam pointed out.
"Are we expecting an ambush, Nic?" Gerad asked, pointedly.
"No. The Sheriff wants us to be prepared. These weapons will give us an edge." Nichol said.
"How? We're going to be spending all of our time trying to load the damn things." Gerad sighed.
"They're not as difficult as you would think. In some ways they're easier to use. The crossbow does the work for you. All you need to do is focus on your target, aim, and release the bolt. The crossbow gives greater force, and allows for better accuracy. It also offers better control and precision. I will demonstrate how to load and use one. Then, you will each take turns. We have two crossbows here, so we'll get through this in no time." Nichol explained.
Just after midday, Lady Margaret came to the Sheriff's private chambers to see to the baby, and make sure Lady Rhiannon had no difficulty with him.
"George told me this morning that Meridwyn's pains had settled. Is that still the case?" Rhiannon asked.
"Yes. I'm cautiously optimistic, but things are headed in the right direction, Milady."
"Oh, good. I'd like to see her."
"I'm sure that will be fine. I'll mind the wee lad. Would you like me to take him to his rooms? I'm not due back to check on her for a few hours." Lady Margaret explained.
"That would be grand. May I take her some food? She must be famished."
"Not today. Perhaps on the morrow. She may have any liquid you can see through for today. Only clear fluids this day, Milady. Juices, broth, and, of course, the wine which is being used as a medicament in this case." the midwife instructed.
"Oh. Right. Of course." Rhiannon nodded.
"Make sure to encourage her to stay put. Now that she's awake, she's eager to move about. She mustn't, Lady Rhiannon. Not today." Lady Margaret said, firmly.
"Very well." she nodded. She looked to the baby who was seated on a blanket on the floor, playing with his teddy and his rattle. She smiled.
"Good boy, darling! Lady Margaret is going to take you to your rooms for a bit, my sweet. Mother will see you again shortly. I must see your Auntie in the meantime." she smiled, then looked to Lady Margaret. "He ate his cereal this morning, and I last gave him his milk close to an hour ago."
"That's perfect, Milady. I'll send for some puréed carrots and sweet potatoes for his midday meal. He loves those." Lady Margaret said. She went to the child and picked him up, taking his teddy and rattle with her.
"Thank you, Lady Margaret." she nodded.
The three of them headed to the door, and parted ways once they got out into the corridor.
Gisborne let her into the chambers, saying he'd just came by to check on his wife. She was pleased to see the worry upon his face from the night before had all but left him. He looked much more at ease.
"She's dying to get up out of that bed. That's the only thing that concerns me right now." Guy frowned.
"I'll have a word with her about that, too, Sir Guy." Rhiannon smiled.
"Good. Maybe she'll listen to you. Come. I'll let her know you're here." he nodded.
They walked to the doors of the bedchamber, and he tentatively opened the doors.
Meridwyn was sitting up in bed, working on her knitting.
"My love, is everything well?" he asked.
"What do you think, Guy? Would I be bothering with this if I wasn't feeling better?" Meridwyn said, nodding to the blanket she was working on, knitting needles in both hands.
"No. I suppose not, my dear." he chuckled. "Good. You have a visitor."
"Good! Something different for me to focus on." Meridwyn smiled.
Rhiannon nodded to him, then stepped in the bedchamber.
"Oh, good! You're here, Rhi. Where's my nephew?"
"He's with Lady Margaret, dearest. You had a fright recently and you must remain quiet." Rhiannon said as she walked toward her. She took a seat in a chair beside the bed.
"I'll leave you ladies to it. I'm right out here in the den." Guy said, then he closed the doors.
"God, I'm bored out of my mind, Rhi! This is painfully tedious. I enjoy knitting, but… a whole damn day of it? I suspect the only reason I'm not fighting all of this is because they're forcing a goblet of wine on me every three to four hours. I'm starting to feel a wee bit funny, Rhi." Meridwyn sighed as she set her knitting on her lap.
"Funny? Not pain, I hope?" Rhiannon asked, fretfully.
"No! No, nothing like that, honey. The kind of funny like you witnessed on Friday from that delightfully fruity wine Lady Gunilda gave to us." Meridwyn smirked.
"Oh, right!" Rhiannon chuckled. Well, you don't seem as inebriated as you did that day."
"Stick around. I think the next dose of it is due soon. Maybe an hour, or a little bit more? I can't keep track. How can anyone keep track of anything being stuck in their bed? Luckily, I have that book, and the knitting, but even that gets boring after awhile." Meridwyn sighed.
"It's only temporary, Meridwyn. Your activities will gradually resume. Let's just get you through today."
"I'll tell you one thing I plan to do later. I'll have to time it when Guy is out and in between the midwife's rounds." Meridwyn hinted.
"You mustn't get up out of that bed, Meridwyn!" Rhiannon admonished.
"There's no need for alarm, Rhiannon. I'm going to take a bath. Just look at the state of my hair! It got damp with sweat last night, and it's a total mess now, as is the rest of me from perspiring so much. I know that will make me feel a lot better when I'm scrubbed clean top to bottom."
"Perhaps you should check with Lady Margaret before you do that, dearest." Rhiannon suggested.
"It's only a bath. It's not like I'm planning to go jogging, for crying out loud."
"Still, it might be best to make sure it's safe to do so at this point in time." Rhiannon cautioned.
"Perhaps. Enough about that. So, things are going well with the baby? I'm so pleased you finally remembered. Can you talk about what you remembered?"
"Yes, things are grand, dearest. He spent the night with us, and it was lovely. There's a… lot that I had buried. Once I remembered, I knew why. I want to tell you everything, Meridwyn, but the topic is unsettling. I don't want to speak of those details with you right now, because it wouldn't be right." Rhiannon said, shaking her head.
"Damn. That bad, is it? I see." Meridwyn frowned.
"It's the birth part of it that's the most unsettling. And, that is the last thing you need to hear about right now. I will tell you, Meridwyn; but, not just now."
"Understood. Perhaps that's best. You're right. After last night, I don't want to think of that sort of thing. This child must stay quiet for quite awhile yet." Meridwyn said, nodding to her belly.
"Indeed." Rhiannon smiled.
"You hungry, Rhiannon? Perhaps Guy could send for trays for us? I'm feeling a bit famished."
"Oh." Rhiannon muttered.
"Oh, right. You probably need to go. It must be time for Isabelle's riding lesson."
"Oh, no. It's not that. It's just… "
"What, Rhiannon?"
"You're… not permitted to eat, Meridwyn. At least… nothing solid, anyway." Rhiannon said, softly.
"What?" Meridwyn asked, incredulously.
"Clear fluids today, dearest. I know. It's terrible. I remember that part of it, too. But, the time shall pass quickly and before you know it, you'll have — "
"Forgotten being stuck in my bed, drinking juice and broth, and reading and knitting until I make myself cross eyed, Rhi? Funny. It's a month later, yet you still remember it." Meridwyn sighed, folding her arms.
"Of course, Meridwyn. But, it needed to be done. It worked for me. If not for that whore who pushed me down a flight of stairs, Sela would be safe. I'm certain of that, dearest. It's working for you, too. There's no reason to believe any peculiar accident shall befall you. So, even though I agree it's tedious, you must follow Lady Margaret's instructions to the letter." Rhiannon advised, firmly.
"I hate this, Rhiannon. This sedentary life is so boring I'm about to rip my eyes out with those knitting needles." Meridwyn sighed.
"You can do this, Meridwyn." Rhiannon smiled.
"Yes. I suppose, I must. At least… it's preferable to the alternative. A repeat of last night is something I cannot do. Not right now, anyway." Meridwyn nodded.
"You'll have lots of things to keep you entertained. I shall visit often. Perhaps Isabelle would like to visit? And, if everything remains quiet, I'll bring the baby by on the morrow for a brief visit." Rhiannon smiled.
"I would like that. I want to hold him, and kiss his wee chubby cheeks. He's such a sweet boy, Rhi."
"Yes. He is."
"At least, that part is sorted."
"Indeed. Now, I must put the rest of what I remembered out of my mind. The only important part of that was him."
"Indeed. Don't give the rest of it another thought, honey. You don't need that taking up space in your mind." Meridwyn said.
"Agreed." she nodded.
"When… this happened to you a month ago, how long were you kept in your bed, and holed up in your rooms? I can't remember that part."
"I think I was in bed a couple of days, then stuck in those rooms a few days more." Rhiannon said.
"Really? I hope they won't make me stay confined to these chambers. I don't know if I can bear it. Besides, there's that dining engagement on Friday evening."
"You're looking forward to that?" Rhiannon asked, surprised.
"Of course. Aren't you just the least bit curious about the Countess of Gloucester, Rhi? She's married to the Prince. She's either got to be some sort of saint, or meek as a door mouse. I'm interested to find out which." Meridwyn smirked.
"Hmm. I suppose I hadn't given much thought to it, but when you put it that way, it is a fascinating prospect." Rhiannon smirked.
"Isn't it? And, Nichol is bringing his new lady friend, apparently. That should be interesting — observing how she handles herself amongst a royal couple." Meridwyn scoffed.
"He has a lady friend? Already?"
"Yes. Apparently, they met by chance on Thursday. I don't know any details beyond that, except that Guy said Nichol seems very content."
"I suppose, I can guess why." Rhiannon smirked.
"Indeed." Meridwyn grinned.
"I don't usually pay much attention to these sorts of things, but you're making the possibilities sound intriguing." Rhiannon grinned.
"Right? I'm telling you, Rhi: I cannot miss that dining engagement. That will surely distract me from all of this bollocks, because it promises to be entertaining. You must admit."
"Then, make it a goal."
"Pardon?"
"Make that your goal. Do everything you can. Comply with the midwife's instructions. If things stay quiet by the time that day comes, there's a good chance you'll be permitted to leave these chambers." Rhiannon pointed out.
"Hmm. I suppose you make a good point. Very well. I'll follow her advice." Meridwyn sighed. Although, she was determined to take that long, glorious bath, despite any objections to it.
Lady Gunilda had just handed her horse over to the stable master at Nottingham Castle. As she was walking toward the entrance coming from the stables, she heard some men talking and looked to her right. There appeared to be a group of the Sheriff's Black Knights inside a large fenced in area, well in back of the stables. It looked to be a training session of some sort. She could see a target fastened to a tree in the distance.
She identified him right away. Even amongst all of those men, some just as attractive as he was, Drake stood out to her. She followed her instincts and took a short detour to her right.
As she drew closer to the fence, she saw Nichol pass a crossbow to Drake. Beside Drake, holding another crossbow was another one she'd seen him with before — at the portcullis, at her door when they canvassed the area questioning about sightings of the fugitive, and once at the tavern. He was shorter with reddish hair. It seemed that he had just taken aim at the target, and now it was Drake's turn.
"Alright, Drake. Take a moment to focus on your target. Then, just aim, and use the trigger mechanism to fire." Nichol called out from the chair he was seated upon. It looked to Gunilda that he was taking notes.
"Come on, Drake. You got this." Gunilda whispered, inaudibly, to herself.
Drake took aim and the first bolt hit in the central area of the target.
"Well done, mate! Keep going!" Adam cheered.
He fired two more bolts in rapid succession and hit centre mass.
"Very good, Drake! You got near perfect accuracy and fired three in a minute. Well done." Nichol smiled, then he looked to his lap and jotted a few notes, while holding the minute glass in his left hand.
"Thanks, Nic; but… three seems kind of poor to me." Drake sighed.
"Three bolts in a minute is good performance, Drake. Crossbows are different from longbows. No one in the world would be able to fire as many bolts in a minute as an archer can fire arrows with a longbow. That's just how it is." Nichol explained.
"If you say so." Drake shrugged.
"Relax, mate. You did better than me. I only got two, and Nichol said it was good." Adam pointed out.
"He's right." Nichol nodded.
"Very well." Drake said.
"Good. Okay, Gerad and Emory, you two are up next. Take the crossbows from Drake and Adam." Nichol instructed.
After Drake gave the crossbow to Gerad, he noticed Mordrid, Ancel, and Adam looking past him toward the fence, and the castle beyond that. He wondered what they were looking at. He turned around and was startled to see Lady Gunilda standing there on the other side of the fence, observing him.
He sighed and walked toward the fence to speak to her.
"Bravo, Drake. That was brilliant." Gunilda smiled.
"Don't take this the wrong way, but, what are you doing here? A meeting with the Sheriff?" Drake asked.
"No. But, I do have a meeting." Gunilda hinted.
"What sort of meeting?" Drake pressed her.
"I'm meeting Lady Rhiannon's personal Seamstress for a consultation about new gowns. Got any favourite colours, Drake?" she smirked.
"I'm sure the men are already wondering why you're standing here talking to me, Milady. Even though, I'm pleased to see you."
"Oh, I'm quite certain they are, Drake. Not a problem." Gunilda nodded, waving her hand dismissively.
"What? No one can know about us, Gunilda!" Drake admonished in a whisper.
"Relax, Drake. None of them will know a thing. They won't recall seeing me. It's nothing that a little momentous absentia won't fix." Gunilda said casually, as if she were speaking of weather patterns.
"What?" Drake asked, incredulously. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"Come here, handsome. Then, I need you to move a few feet to your right." Gunilda said.
"WHAT?" Drake asked, in complete confusion.
She grabbed him and pulled him toward her. Then she bestowed upon his lips a hot, languid kiss; offering up portents of moments to come.
"Milady!" Drake whispered breathlessly at the end of it. "I liked that, but… that kiss might have just got us both sacked." he frowned.
"Now is the time to move a few feet to your right, Drake." Gunilda said.
He looked at her questioningly, but followed her suggestion, notwithstanding.
Gunilda took a breath as she focused on the men gathered. She closed her eyes, then discreetly pointed her fingers in their direction, waving them in a circular motion.
"Momentous absentia." she whispered, repeatedly.
Drake narrowed his eyes upon her, suspiciously. He turned to look back at the men. Within moments, those who had previously gave he and Gunilda questioning looks, now didn't notice her at all.
"No one saw a thing, Drake." Gunilda smiled.
"What? What do you mean, my lady?"
"None of them will recall seeing me in this time frame. It's like I'm not here right now, Drake. They might see me leaving later, but they won't recall seeing me here these last few moments. I'd better make haste before that spell wears off." she quickly explained.
He shook his head slowly, staring into her eyes.
"Quickly. Got a favourite colour, Drake?" Gunilda asked.
"Blue, or red." he nodded.
"Noted. Oh, by the way. Your performance out there proved that you can fuck me, and still remain focused on your tasks." Gunilda smirked knowingly at him. Then, she turned to quickly proceed to the castle, leaving Drake completely mesmerized, and perplexed all at once.
He walked back to join the men. Within moments, Mordrid, Adam, and Ancel walked toward him.
"What the hell is wrong with you, mate?" Adam asked, suddenly.
"What do you mean?" Drake asked, nervously.
"You were standing over at that fence, alone and brooding, Drake. Are you that disappointed with your performance that you had to go off on your own and pout about it, mate?" Mordrid asked, shaking his head and squinting his blue eyes, in disbelief.
"Indeed, Drake. What the hell was that about? Are you quite yourself?" Ancel asked, curiously.
Drake was astonished that it appeared Gunilda's spell had worked. He swallowed dryly, then sighed.
"I guess I just needed… to walk for a bit, and think about how to improve on that." Drake shrugged.
"Like Nichol said, it's not a competition, Drake. Relax. You did grand!" Mordrid chuckled.
"Come, mate. Let's go and join Alfred. He's the only one cheering on Gerad and Emory." Adam suggested.
"Good idea, Adam." Ancel nodded.
"Alright." Drake agreed.
The four of them walked back to observe Gerad and Emory tackle handling the crossbow.
The Sheriff knocked on the door of Guy's chambers.
The door opened within moments. Guy was a bit surprised. He thought it might be the midwife returning.
"Oh. Am I needed for something, Cousin?" Guy asked.
"Nothing too pressing." he said.
"Come in. Your wife is here." Guy said as he held the door for him.
"I figured she might be. The child seems awfully quiet right now. Maybe he's asleep."
"He's not here." Guy said as he closed the door.
"Then, who is minding him?"
Just then, the doors of the bedchamber opened. Rhiannon came out and walked toward them.
"She's hungry, Sir Guy. I was coming out to summon for a tray. She's already been warned she can only ingest things that she can see through." Rhiannon said. Then, she looked to her husband. "Wasn't expecting to see you here, my love." she smiled.
"Rhiannon, who is minding our son?" the Sheriff asked, pointedly.
"Lady Margaret is. She took him back to his rooms. She's not expected to come back to check on Meridwyn for awhile yet." she explained.
"Hmm. Awhile, you say?" he asked.
"Yes. Why?" Rhiannon asked, curiously.
"And, I take it since Meridwyn is hungry, that's a good sign?" he asked them both.
Guy and Rhiannon nodded, each wondering where he was going with this.
"Good! You'll be here with her for a time, won't you, my lady?" the Sheriff asked.
"Of course, George. You know I was worried about her?"
"Perfect." he smiled. Then, he looked to Guy. "It seems things are going smoothly here, Gis. How about a breath of fresh air, then?"
"What?" Rhiannon asked, shaking her head. She folded her arms as she narrowed her aqua green eyes upon him.
"Sounds fine to me, George." Guy nodded.
"What's going on, George? You mustn't drag him away. What if the situation changes with Meridwyn?" Rhiannon pointed out.
"We're not going to be far at all. We're going behind the stables." he said.
"Right. Nic's training session." Guy nodded.
"Indeed, Gis. I thought we'd observe that for a time, see how it's coming along."
"We saw him teaching the men yesterday. It looked like they were using a crossbow." Rhiannon added.
"Indeed. He has a number of them to teach." the Sheriff said. Then, he looked back to his cousin. "Well?"
"I'm fine with that. Let me just look in on my wife for a moment first." Guy nodded. Then he headed to the bedchamber.
"How were things after I left you, my lady?" he asked.
"It was fine, my love. He was perfectly content. When Lady Margaret came by he was sitting on a blanket on the floor, playing with his teddy and his rattle. He was a perfect wee angel." she smiled.
"Good. I'm glad there were no problems"
"None at all, George. He's a sweet, happy child."
"I'm happy, too." he smiled. Then he pulled her close to him and kissed her softly, yet passionately.
At the end of it, she looked up at him.
"Well, I wasn't expecting that, sugar." Rhiannon smiled.
"Told you I was happy." the Sheriff winked at her, salaciously.
Moments later, Guy emerged from the bedchamber. He grabbed his surcoat that was laying over a chair.
"All is well. There was some grumbling about being forced to drink broth instead of taking food, but she's resigned to it." Guy chuckled.
"She'll do it for the baby." Rhiannon said.
"I know she will. She's not happy about it, but she will." Guy nodded.
Then, the men left the chambers. After they left, Rhiannon summoned for a tray.
They were surprised when they noticed Lady Gunilda being escorted up the stairs as they descended them.
"Gilda? Where in the devil are you going?" the Sheriff asked, suspiciously.
"She's meeting with Madam Overun, Milord." the Page nodded.
"For the love of Zeus! Will you ever clean out your ears, boy?" he huffed.
"Alright. Sir." the lad nodded.
"Go wait for her at the top of the stairs. I need a word." he instructed.
The Page nodded and scurried up the stairs.
"Right. So, you're seeing the Seamstress. Any luck with your first assignment yet?" he asked, quietly.
"No. A trip to the tavern offered no results." Gunilda frowned.
"Keep at it. Something is bound to present itself." he said.
"Slayer knew a couple of them. What about that angle?" Guy asked.
"Slayer knows of a few of them, but he didn't see them last night." Gunilda whispered.
"You think he was truthful?" Nottingham asked, pointedly.
"Yes." she nodded.
"Good. See what you can find out about Merek Busby's involvement, also. I'll be in touch."
"Indeed. As will I, if I learn anything." she nodded. Then, she lifted her skirt a little and proceeded up the stairs.
A short time later, the Sheriff and Guy were walking toward the fence of the training area well in back of the stables where Nichol was teaching a group of seven men. The sky was overcast and there was a chill wind present. It looked like portents of heavy rain slowly rolling in from the northwest. The two men walked to the fence and leaned on it as they observed.
"Well done, Mordrid! Impressive. You just need to work a bit on your accuracy, but your speed was great." Nichol said.
"Seriously? I only shot three of them! What the hell, Nic? You know I can fire twelve arrows a minute with my longbow." Mordrid huffed.
"I do know, Mordrid. But, these babies aren't longbows. That was your first attempt. Your first serious attempt, because firing off one bolt in Fingle's yard doesn't count. There's opportunity for you to improve if you wish, but that was grand." Nichol said.
"Wish I could have seen that better. I could see him taking aim as we were walking past the stables, but we weren't close enough to get a good look." Nottingham said.
"He's competitive, George. He's always pushing himself to do better. Faster. Stronger. Higher. Nigel is that way, too." Guy said.
"He is. Too bad the lad seems to have a chip on his shoulder at the moment, though." Nottingham sighed.
"Very good. Alright, Ancel. You're up next." Nichol said.
Ancel already had a crossbow and bolts in hand. He went and stood in front of the target, then turned back to face Nichol.
"Does it matter if I crouch down and angle it up forty five degrees, or can I try a dead on shot, since you said the target is seventy yards away?" Ancel asked.
"You can use either technique. I'm watching for speed and accuracy. Technique will come later, because most of you are new to this." Nichol nodded.
"Most? What is he talking about, Gis?" Nottingham asked, quietly. "Nic is the only one there with crossbow experience."
"One of them must have used one in the past?" Guy pondered. "I don't know whom, though? Emory, perhaps?"
"If that is the case, why hasn't he said a word about it?" he huffed.
"Good question. Kind of an important detail to be secretive about." Guy shrugged.
Ancel dropped the bolt he was trying to load. He muttered curses and picked it up from the grass.
"You got this Ancel. Just focus on the target, aim, and hit that trigger mechanism." Nichol encouraged him.
"Do better than I did, mate. One of us needs to be brilliant." Mordrid called out.
"It's lesson number one, Mordrid; and, it's not a competition." Nichol sighed.
"I know, but it's hard not to think of that." Mordrid muttered.
Ancel stood a moment, the bolt loaded, ready to go. He took a breath, aimed and released the bolt. The quarrel hit centre. Then he quickly reloaded and fired once more. Again, success. At the end of it he fired off four shots in a minute, three hitting centre mass, the last one hitting what would be a shoulder if the target were a person.
"Well, that was a poor show." Ancel sighed.
"You jesting? That was great, Ancel!" Gerad said.
"I thought it was, too. Well done, mate!" Mordrid exclaimed.
"Really? I'm so much better with a longbow." Ancel said.
"Of course, you are! Nobody else can fire as many arrows a minute as you can. Not even Nigel, last I checked." Mordrid reminded him.
"Really? How many can Ancel shoot off?" Emory asked.
"Fourteen of them! It's wild to watch him." Mordrid said, excitedly.
"Holy hell!" Adam exclaimed.
"You men need to stop comparing these to longbows. They're similar, but they're not the same." a beat. "That was very good, Ancel. Your speed is perfect. Your accuracy can use a tiny bit of work, but so can almost everyone's, in fairness." Nichol said.
"Thank you, Nichol." Ancel nodded.
"You said almost everyone needs to work on accuracy. Whom among us doesn't need to work on that?" Drake asked.
"Good question, mate. I'm wondering that, too." Gerad nodded.
"That was Safforus from City Watch." Nichol said.
"No bleeding way!" Adam chuckled.
"The hell is he doing on City Watch if he's that good?" Emory shrugged.
"It matters not, men. This is not a competition." Nichol exhaled sharply. "If there's things you want to work on, that's great. It's strongly encouraged; but, we are all on the same team. Even Slayer and Safforus are on our team now. Got it?" he said, firmly.
The men nodded in agreement.
"You might not be aware of this, because your back is to them, but… we have company., Nichol" Ancel said quietly, nodding behind Nichol.
"Oh, really?" Nichol asked.
Nichol turned in his chair and saw the Sheriff and Guy watching on the other side of the fence. He nodded to them, then picked up the wooden tray from his lap, and the parchment, while pocketing his minute glass. He stood from his chair, setting the items upon it, and used the leather bag to prevent the parchment from blowing away.
"Take a few moments, lads. I'll be right back. One of you go and remove the bolts from the target and bring them here with the others." Nichol instructed. Then, he walked over to the fence.
"We didn't mean to interrupt your session, Nic." the Sheriff said.
"We just came to observe." Guy added.
"That's fine." Nichol nodded.
"How are they doing?" he asked.
"Quite well. A couple of them are a little hard on themselves despite a good performance, though."
"Really? Who?"
"Well, Mordrid — as you just witnessed, and Drake. Ancel, too. Frankly, I think all of them compare the crossbow too much to a longbow. I'm trying to convey that they can't measure their performance based on their longbow skills, but it's not sinking in yet." Nichol frowned.
"Did all of them take a turn already?" the Sheriff asked.
"There's only one left."
"Oh. Who is that?" Guy asked.
"Alfred." Nichol nodded.
"Hmm. Maybe we should head back, Gis. We missed the others." the Sheriff suggested.
"I think you should stick around, George." Nichol said.
"Really? Why?"
"Don't know. Just… a feeling." Nichol replied, evasively.
"Very well. Carry on, Nic." the Sheriff nodded.
Nichol nodded and walked back to the men.
"Alright, men. There's one man left to go. You're up, Alfred. Take the crossbow from Ancel, and let's see what you got." Nichol instructed, nodding to the weapon held in Ancel's hand.
"Very well." Alfred nodded.
Ancel handed him the crossbow, and a couple of bolts.
"I'm going to need a few more." Alfred said.
Alfred walked over towards Nichol and bent down to grab four more bolts, just in case he missed the target with one or two of them.
Nichol sat poised in his chair, his quill in hand, which he already dipped in the ink jar, and the minute glass held in his left hand. He leaned forward, curious to see how this would play out since Alfred, apparently, hadn't told a soul until today that he shoots off bolts for the fun of it, with his cousin.
"The hell does he need six bolts for?" Mordrid whispered to his mates.
"Good question." Ancel shrugged.
"Maybe he wanted extra in case he misses the target?" Drake pointed out.
"You're right, mate. That must be it." Adam nodded.
"Sure is taking him long enough." Emory sighed.
"I'll say!" Gerad sighed.
Over at the fence, the Sheriff and Guy observed, a bit bewildered by Alfred taking longer than Ancel had to get in position and take aim.
"Thought you said he was eager to participate, Gis?" the Sheriff asked.
"He was. Very eager. Looks to me like he's putting a lot of thought into getting it right, or something?" Guy mused.
"Hope it not because he's having visual difficulty. That's all we need!" Nottingham sighed.
"Anytime you're ready, Alfred. Just focus on that target, aim, and hit that trigger mechanism." Nichol encouraged him.
Alfred nodded, then turned back to face the target. He had the bolts in one hand, ready to go.
"I'm going to tackle this using an upward forty five degree shot, then dead on." Alfred declared, confidently.
The men were surprised to see him appear at ease and more self assured just then, than any other time.
"That's fine. Whatever suits you, Alfred. We're ready when you are." Nichol goaded him.
Alfred stood a moment, squinting his chocolate brown eyes on the target for a moment.
"The hell is he doing, lads?" Emory asked.
"Relax, Emory. Looks to me like he wants to get this right." Mordrid said.
Alfred got himself into position. He closed his eyes a moment, then took a breath in. Then, he opened his eyes, focused solely on the target and commenced. Working quickly, he fired two shots in rapid succession from a crouched position. Then, with great speed he stood and took aim for a dead on shot. Two more shots were fired rapidly after the first in a standing position. All five hit centre mass.
The Sheriff was speechless, his mouth slightly agape. He shook his head slowly, incredulous over what he just witnessed.
"Holy. Fuck." Guy muttered.
He nodded to Guy to follow him and they walked into the area to join the men.
The men erupted into cheers, applause, and whistles, incredulous at Alfred's performance.
"Fantastic, Alfred! Well done! Perfect accuracy, and no one has matched your speed." Nichol smiled.
"Thank you, Nichol." Alfred nodded.
"Sweet Christ on a pony, Alfred! You fired off five of them!" Mordrid exclaimed. He looked to Nichol. "Is that correct, Nic? Was it five? He was so fast it was like a blur."
"That is correct." Nichol smiled.
"The hell are you doing guarding doors, man? Holy fuck!" Gerad chuckled.
"That's… what I'm beginning to wonder." Nottingham said, taking the men by surprise.
The Sheriff and Guy had joined the men, curious to talk to Alfred about the secret he'd been keeping from everyone.
"Milord?" Alfred asked.
The Sheriff looked to all of the men gathered.
"Who knew about this? Someone had to have known." he demanded, nodding to Alfred.
"I didn't know this, Milord. If I had, I would have alerted one of you, or the Captain." Mordrid said.
"I can speak for Adam and I, because I'm certain. We didn't know." Drake added.
"It's true." Adam nodded.
"None of us knew anything about this, Milord." Gerad said. Then, he looked to Alfred. "You're so bleeding weird, mate. You just go along like everything is coming up roses, even though you're doing nothing but blending into the background — day after day. You're basically invisible the way you carry on, and you throw this at us? Why didn't you tell anyone you were skilled with a crossbow?" he spat.
"Indeed." Emory muttered.
"I was planning to ask the same question, but you phrased that perfectly, Gerad." the Sheriff said. Then, he looked to Alfred. "How is it that none of us knew until moments ago that you could do… that with a crossbow?"
"No one asked." Alfred shrugged.
"Weak, Alfred. Do better." Guy said, firmly.
"Alright. Here's the thing: I've never actually aimed a crossbow at a person." Alfred began.
"What have you killed… with any weapon?" Nottingham asked, directly.
"Chickens, rabbits, pheasant, stag, and partridges."
"That's a start. So, what about the crossbow. Is that what you use to hunt with?" he asked.
"No. I use a longbow for hunting. With the crossbow, it's only used on targets. My cousin taught me when he returned from the Crusade. He insisted I should know the skill. I liked it, then we started making it a routine. It's like a game to us. We have a drink. Shoot at the target for awhile. It's just… something for us to do." Alfred shrugged. "That's quite a bit different than what they're intended for."
"Still, perhaps it's time we moved you off of door duty, Albert." Nottingham said.
"But, I'm not sure if I'm ready. And, it's Alf — "
"You're a Knight. You're ready." he said, firmly.
"Alright. Whatever you wish, Milord." Alfred nodded.
"There's only one criticism I have that you should keep in mind when you're using one for real, Alfred." Nichol began.
"What's that?" Alfred asked."
"Don't take so much time getting into position and taking aim. I get it. That's what you're accustomed to doing when you're shooting at an inanimate target. That's what one is afforded time for when they're doing it for sport, like you and your cousin are. But, in real life, it's not sport, Alfred. Taking aim with that first shot is what you need to be faster with." Nichol advised.
"Understood. I was only thinking in terms of a perfect aim. I'm good at it when I shoot bolts with my cousin. I know it's different than using it as an actual weapon." Alfred nodded.
"Good. Now that that's cleared up, all of you convene in the Council Quarters later. Closer to dusk, when the Duke's team arrive back. Mordrid, you will inform Luke and Castor that they will join us." Nottingham said.
"It will be done, Milord." Mordrid nodded.
"Very good, men. Nic told me you all performed well. Just stop comparing them to longbows." he said.
"I want to know how many arrows Alfred can shoot off in a minute… speaking of longbows." Emory said.
"Indeed. I'd like to know, too." Mordrid nodded. He turned his head toward Alfred and gave a questioning quirk of his brow.
"I don't really know. I've never bothered to count." Alfred shrugged.
"There's a few things that will need to be worked on. Wouldn't you agree, Nic?" the Sheriff asked.
"Indeed." Nichol nodded, then looked to Alfred. "We're going to need to get you through some training. There's some tips you need to learn regarding sword fighting, and perhaps use of your longbow. You're well on your way with the crossbow, though. Just remember to be faster about taking your first shot."
"Very well." Alfred nodded.
"Good. You're all dismissed. Mordrid, you alert Luke and Castor about our meeting at dusk when the Sherwood team arrives. You will also inform Robert when you stop by the armoury that he will be needed at the meeting, as well." he instructed.
"Yes, Milord." Mordrid nodded.
Luke was standing in the work area of the armoury, getting forging lessons from Robert, Stephanus, and Eustace. He found the subject surprisingly fascinating. It seemed to him to be a noble endeavour that required much thought, creativity, and planning. He could have lived without the extreme heat in the armoury, however.
"And, this is how it begins, Luke." Robert said. He took a long bar of Spanish steel which Diego had recently delivered. "Looks like nothing, right? Just a boring ingot of steel. Well, that's what it looks like to you. To all of us in here — it is so much more."
"It's like gold to us. Or, a canvas to an artist. It starts out looking like nothing, but to us — the possibilities are endless." Stephanus added.
"Indeed. All it needs it a lot of fire, shaping, refining — " Eustace started to say, but was interrupted.
"And quelling. Then, it needs sharpening and polishing." Stephanus nodded.
"That's quite a few steps." Luke remarked.
"That's the reason the armoury is only as good as the smiths working inside of it. A decent sized team of blacksmiths and sword smiths, all with good experience, and apprentices to assist help the operation run smoothly and efficiently. Quality material, and supplies like a decent grindstone, oil to quell, and clean work areas are also crucial." Robert explained.
"Having someone artistic for details like hilt design helps, too. For things like that, Robert is the go to. Stephanus was very good at that, too." Eustace said.
"Cheers, Eustace. Yes. I liked that part of it, too — before I lost my sight." Stephanus sighed.
"And, that's one of the first steps. We think of a design. Basic swords and daggers don't need it, but others involve a design on parchment before we begin." Robert said.
"So much thought goes into it. I suppose I never stopped to consider that before. Much like I had no idea how much work went into crafting longbows until Samson perfectly explained the process to us on Wednesday." Luke said.
"Indeed. When it comes to weapons, they demand quality. That comes from knowledge, skill, and following certain standards. Weapons are of no use if they fall apart. Besides that, it makes the man vulnerable when his weapon fails. Around here, we not only forge blades and armour, we test them before releasing them to the Sheriff. I'm certain that Samson practices in a similar fashion." Robert nodded.
"Yes. He made that very clear to us. So, what has to happen to that ingot to turn it… into something?" Luke asked.
"We'll show you, Luke." Robert said. He looked to Eustace. "That's where you come in Eustace."
"Indeed." Eustace nodded. He took the steel bar from Robert. "We're going to take this and apply a lot of heat. We need to get that metal glowing yellow to shape it." he explained. He nodded for Luke to follow him.
Eustace carefully placed the bar over flames while Luke observed.
"How long does that take?" Luke asked.
"It takes awhile to get it up to temperature before it can be shaped. The smith working beside Eustace is shaping a dagger using a small hammer. See how he's flattening the steel into a workable blade and shaping it?" Robert said, pointing to it.
"Yes. I do. Looks like that takes a lot of time, too."
"It does. A lot goes into shaping and refining before it can be quelled." Stephanus added.
"Earlier you said you use oil for quelling. Why oil, and not water?" Luke asked Robert.
"Water will work faster, but it can also easily crack the metal. Oil works best." Robert explained.
"Of course. That makes sense once you explained it."
At this point in time, Borin approached them to alert Robert and Luke that Mordrid was waiting to speak to them at the door.
"Carry on. We'll see what this is about." Robert said to Stephanus and Eustace. Then, he nodded for Luke to follow him.
Moments later, they stood before Mordrid.
"Christ, it's hot as Hell in here. Every time I need to come here it's the first thought that comes to mind." Mordrid sighed, tugging at his collar.
"Couldn't agree more." Luke sighed.
"I take it Milord sent you?" Robert asked.
"He did. He's calling a meeting. You're both summoned to join us in the Council Quarters at dusk — once the Sherwood team arrives." Mordrid nodded.
"Oh. Wonder what that's about? I thought I was only meant to focus on this assignment until the morrow." Luke shrugged.
"Guess not. I've also been asked to summon Castor."
"Wonder why he's calling this meeting? Maybe it's about tomorrow's assignments?" Luke pondered.
"Possibly, but he generally doesn't require an Advisor for that." Robert pointed out.
"I don't know, but something sparked in him when he and Sir Guy stopped by at the end of our training session. Once they saw the performance of the last participant, the wheels started turning in his head, I think." Mordrid opined.
"Really? What about the last participant? Who was that?" Luke asked.
"It was bleeding Alfred, mate. He makes the rest of us look like a bunch of amateurs. He shot five bolts off in a minute from two different aiming positions, and hit centre mass with all of them!" Mordrid chuckled, shaking his head.
"Alfred? That's insane, mate. That's even better than Safforus. He was the star at yesterday's training session."
"That's even better than Nic, Luke. It's insane, alright. I think Milord wants to get him off door duty. I'm sure that will be talked about at the meeting. Just be there. Both of you." Mordrid said.
"We will." Robert nodded.
"Of course." Luke agreed.
"I don't know how you're standing it in here, Luke. It's like the seventh circle of Hell in here. Try not to melt, and I'll see you both later." Mordrid scoffed, then he took his leave.
"Come, Luke. Let's see if the steel Eustace is heating is ready to begin shaping. Also, I want to show you the fine chain mail hauberk that was designed and started on by Stephanus before his eyes failed him. It's quite something to behold." Robert said. He nodded for Luke to follow him.
"Oh. I think I saw someone working on that yesterday, but I didn't get a good look. He had parchment there on his work table he kept referring to." Luke added.
"Indeed. Those were Stephanus' designs and instructions the smith was following. Quite amazingly crafted, actually. Superior to others I've seen."
"There's more than one design?" Luke asked.
"Indeed. Stephanus worked on a hauberk, and he also drew a design for a hood. He is very talented, Luke. It was good Milord kept him on. He's too good a smith to let go."
"It's a shame he lost his sight. I'm sure he'd like to see his chain mail creation reach completion. He probably wishes he could do it himself." Luke said.
"Oh, he could do it, Luke. Stephanus has said that, and I believe it. But, because that kind of work involves a very keen eye, Stephanus said he could finish those — but it would take until Milord and my sister's tenth wedding anniversary for him to do it on his own. This is why we're very glad he wrote out the instructions and drew the design and diagrams long before his sight was lost." Robert explained.
"Interesting. I'd very much like to see it, Robert." Luke smiled.
"Of course, Luke. Follow me." Robert nodded.
Ancel took in a breath and sighed before he wrapped on Rebeccah's door. He thought he'd have more time with her, but an unexpected meeting was called for dusk.
The door opened. She stood before him and smiled.
"Good day, Ancel. How was your training session?" Rebeccah asked.
"It went very well and proved to be entertaining, as well as informative." he nodded, wondering why she wasn't inviting him in.
"And… the meeting?"
"It was interesting, Rebeccah. It was good." he said, eyeing her curiously.
"Right. I'll just grab my cape, it's right over here on a hook by the — " Rebeccah nodded to her right as she spoke, but she was interrupted.
"Let's talk first, my dear." Ancel whispered.
"You're… here to your rescind your invitation, aren't you?" Rebeccah asked. She scoffed.
"No. Nothing like that. I just don't want to discuss other options from what I had in mind — out here in the corridor."
"Come in, Ancel." she nodded.
He walked past her as she closed the door. Then, she turned to him and regarded him, suspiciously.
"What's going on?" she asked, pointedly.
"I'm needed for a meeting at dusk. That doesn't afford us the time for me to take you where I had in mind. So, let's come up with something that we can accomplish in about three hours." Ancel said as he moved in toward her.
"Really?"
"Yes, Rebeccah." he nodded.
"Hmm. Then… take me to Milady Rhiannon's manor. I need a few of my things. We can accomplish that in plenty of time."
"Seriously?" Ancel asked, quite surprised.
"Well… yes." she nodded. She looked upon him, curiously.
"My dear, I can escort you there any time you wish. Can't you think of something more — I mean… less practical?" Ancel asked. He wanted to say "something more romantic", but stopped himself in time. He didn't know why, but he often found himself holding back with her.
"I really do need some more clothes, Ancel. I'll be quick, you can say hello to James, and then… we can do something else." Rebeccah smiled.
"Like… what?" he asked as he grasped her hand.
"I don't know. Whatever you wish. Perhaps we could go visit that tavern for a bit?" Rebeccah suggested.
"Rebeccah, my dear… are you jesting?" Ancel asked.
"Well… no, Ancel. I'm serious."
"I doubt the tavern is a place for you." he sighed.
"It'll be fine, Ancel. I could use a good cup of cheer, and you'll be with me." she smiled up at him.
"Very well. And, before we go there, I'll wait outside at Lady Rhiannon's manor. It's probably best." Ancel said.
He let go of her hand and went to grab her cape from the hook by the door.
"Whatever for? You've met James before. The one whom guards it."
"Yes. That's the problem. We both work for the Sheriff, and you work for his wife. I'm not sure I'll be able to hide my truth about you, Rebeccah. I'm usually good at playing a part if needs be. That's a part of how I landed this role. But, I think I will fail trying to hide that from James." Ancel whispered in her ear from behind her. He let his lips softly graze her neck as he spoke. Then he put the cape around her shoulders.
"Really, Ancel?" Rebeccah asked, whirling around to face him as she fastened the ribbons on her cape.
"Indeed." he said, softly.
She leaned in and kissed his cheek, then whispered into his ear.
"You're quite dear to me, too. Even though a part of me fights against that, telling me I'm a damned fool." she smirked. She pulled away then nodded toward the door. "Come. We mustn't waste away the time we have, Ancel."
"We'll take a wagon. I'll drive." he grinned. Then, they left her rooms.
The Sheriff was speaking to Guy and Nichol in the corridor of the main floor of the castle.
"What's the plan later, mate? Are we heading out to that church again?" Nichol asked.
"We'll cover that at the meeting." the Sheriff nodded.
"What's this about, anyway? Tomorrow's assignments?" Nichol asked, curiously.
"That will be discussed, but there's more. I wouldn't need you and Robert there about assignments." he said, with a knowing quirk of his brow.
"Right. You have ideas. You're contriving of something. God help us, mate."
"God doesn't factor into the equation, Nic." he said, firmly.
"Of course." Nichol nodded.
"Good. So, what do we do about Alfred? Castor will be off dungeon door duty on the morrow. Will Alfred be staying at his post — " Guy started to ask, but was cut off.
"No. I'm going down there to speak to Joseph. He won't be thrilled with it, but he must designate two of his men to guard the door. We're pulling Albert from door duty. A sodding waste of skill to not have him taking a more active role around here." the Sheriff huffed.
"Alright. I will admit he's a bleeding magician with a crossbow. He's better than I was. Better than anyone I've ever seen handle one, but that doesn't make him a soldier, mate." Nichol pointed out.
"Well, it's about time he damn well learned. Recently, he told me he's worked for me for two years. That's more than enough time manning doors." he said, firmly.
"Fair enough. I'll work with him to get him there, George." Nichol said.
"I expect you will." he said.
Nichol nodded, then took his leave.
"Good. If I'm not needed for anything, I'm going to check on my wife." Guy said.
"I'm sure you'd be informed if anything changed."
"If anything has changed I want to know about it. I need to know she's fine." Guy said, firmly.
"Very well. I'll see you back in the Council Quarters at dusk." the Sheriff nodded, then he headed to the stairs that led to the sub level.
A short time later Guy walked into his chambers and headed straight to the doors of the bedchamber. He was alarmed to see she wasn't in there. He walked over to the door of the bath chamber and knocked.
"If that's you, Guy, you may enter." Meridwyn called out.
He sighed with relief that she hadn't left their rooms. Still, he was concerned. He opened the door and stepped inside.
Meridwyn was wearing a bath shirt, reclined in the tub, merrily lathering her hair with soap.
He chuckled, despite his misgivings.
"Well, don't you look a sight, my love? Should… you be doing this?"
"Don't worry, my love. Against my better judgement, I asked Lady Margaret about it first. She came by to check on me about three quarters of an hour ago. She actually shocked me." Meridwyn said as she continued to massage the soap into her hair and scalp.
"Oh? It's a bit surprising she agreed to this." he said as he walked closer to the tub.
"She said as long as there was no bleeding, or… water trickling from me, that it was fine. She said it would relax me. She's right. Betwixt this and the goblet of wine she foisted on me, I'm feeling plenty relaxed, husband." Meridwyn smiled.
"Good. I'm glad to hear that, my love. I shouldn't have listened to you on Friday." he sighed, then looked downcast.
"What do you mean, Guy?"
"You were a little tiger when you returned from Lady Gunilda's. I tried to be gentle, but… "
"Don't do that, my love. Nothing we did caused whatever that bollocks was last night. Everything is fine. She kicks every now and then. I know she's fine." Meridwyn smiled.
"Good. And, you're feeling well?" Guy asked.
"I am. Just give me a moment before we continue." she said. She took her hands from her scalp then immersed herself in the tub, squeezing the soap from her hair as she emerged from the water. "That is so much better." she smiled.
"I'll let you finish up, Meridwyn. I'm not due back until dusk, so I will keep you company." Guy nodded.
"Perfect. I'll be out directly. I'm following all of the midwife's recommendations." a beat. "I'm not missing that dining engagement on Friday, Guy."
"I guess that will depend on how you fare between now and then, and what she has to say about it. And, Thomas, since she informed him of what happened." Guy said.
"If things stay like this, I'm not missing that, husband. That is my first goal."
"Very well, my lady." Guy chuckled softly. He moved in closer to her and bent down, then kissed her forehead before taking his leave of her.
Castor and Alfred were talking outside the dungeon door. A ruckus from inside there had only recently just subsided, and they were grateful the noise level had been reduced.
"It's so noisy down here. I really don't know how ye can stand this on the daily, Alfred. How has your head not been fit to explode?" Castor sighed.
"I don't know. Most days it's not too bad. I don't know what that was that just happened. Sounded like a riot starting. Good thing they got that handled." Alfred frowned, shaking his head.
"Right. Back to what I was trying to ask ye earlier. How did training go, mate? Ye haven't said one word about it."
"It was… good." Alfred shrugged.
Nottingham sighed. He had just made his way there and quietly approached. He stood about eight feet away.
"It was better than good. You were outstanding." he said. He walked closer toward them.
"Good day, Milord." Castor nodded. "Really? He was that good?"
"He has everyone beat. Even Nic. That's what I'm here to speak to Joseph about." Nottingham hinted.
"Milord?" Alfred asked.
"You're being pulled from door duty. No more doors for you, Alistor. We're going to get you trained like a soldier. Skill like that should not go to waste. Not as long as I'm in charge." he said, firmly.
"As you wish, Milord." Alfred nodded.
The Sheriff nodded. He noticed that was a common response from him — "As you wish." He was going to address this at the meeting.
"Did Mordrid tell you of the meeting?" the Sheriff asked Castor.
"Yes, Milord." Castor nodded.
He nodded, then walked inside the dungeon after Castor opened the door, in search of his Jailer.
"Christ, Alfred? Did he see you? He's acting like he watched. Just… how good are we talking about here? Three bolts? Four? What about your aim?" Castor asked.
"Yes. He and Sir Guy were observing. He watched the final three of us. Though, I'm not sure how much they saw of Mordrid's try." Alfred shrugged.
"How many, Alfred? And, your aim?"
"Five. Centre mass." he said.
"WHAT?"
The Sheriff found Joseph conferring with Aldred not too far ahead of him.
"Good day, Milord. Are you here to see one of the prisoners?" Joseph asked.
"No. I need to see you. Both of you, actually."
"Oh? What about, Milord?"
"Castor won't be on door duty on the morrow, Joseph. As it turns out, neither will Alistor." he said.
"Milord? Who is Alistor?" Aldred asked.
"The one who hardly speaks who mans the door every day — for awhile now." the Sheriff huffed.
"Right. You mean Alfred." Aldred nodded. Then he frowned and looked to Joseph. "Hell, Joseph. What are we going to do about that?"
"Indeed." Joseph frowned.
"That's what I want you two to decide. Choose two of your men to man the door until I come up with plan B." the Sheriff said.
"Milord, it's been chaotic in here with the increase in the prison populace." Joseph said.
"It's only temporary, Joseph. Keep Aldred in here with you. You two seem to have the best grip on things. Choose two to man the door for the next two days. Once we get that sorted, you two are checking into one of Nic's training sessions."
"Very well, Milord." Joseph nodded.
"Yes, Milord." Aldred agreed.
"Milord, if I may, why is Alfred being pulled now?" Joseph asked.
"Because he outperformed everyone — even Nic — at the crossbow training session earlier. It's time he learned other skills, and how to be a soldier."
"I see. Understood, Milord." Joseph nodded.
"You two put your heads together and decide who shall man the door." he said. Then, he turned and took his leave.
A quarter of an hour later, he walked into his private chambers. Rhiannon was seated on a chair in the den, holding the baby and giving him his milk.
The child turned his head when the door opened.
"Fah!" he squealed and began to clap.
"Yes, my son. I'm here." he smiled as he walked toward them. "How was your visit with Meridwyn, my lady?" he asked.
"It was good. She's doing so much better now. Fingers crossed it stays like this."
"And, I see he's doing well." he scoffed, nodding to the child.
"Yes. Lady Margaret said he'll likely nap after this. He often naps around this time." Rhiannon said.
The baby reached out to pull her hand holding the cup to him.
"Yes, darling. I know. Don't worry. I haven't forgotten you." she smiled as she put the cup to his lips.
"Amazing, the difference a new day brings. This time yesterday I never would have pictured this for quite some time." he said, gesturing to the baby in her lap.
"What's amazing is unlocking the memories I needed. I'm glad they finally came. The only thing to think of now is… how do we explain this?" Rhiannon sighed.
"He's our son, Rhiannon. We shouldn't need to explain much more than that." the Sheriff said, firmly.
"We haven't even been married a sennight yet, and here we are with a six month old baby, George." Rhiannon pointed out. She set the child's empty cup on the table beside her and proceeded to burp the baby.
"Yes, well, circumstances changed the natural progression of things. It was months before I found you. If you hadn't been taken, we would have been wed long before he was born, my lady. People are just going to have to accept it. A bunch of bollocks happened, and we're making the best of it."
"I know. It just… feels strange whenever I imagine telling people." she sighed.
"It's your call how much is shared, Rhiannon. You're the survivor of that nonsense." he said.
"Thank you, my love. As for your best mate, I'll leave that to you. Since you trust him, that's good enough for me. I don't know him well enough, and the whole thing is… embarrassing, frankly." Rhiannon sighed.
"My lady, how is it embarrassing?"
"It portrays me as a whore, and a victim. Don't think I didn't try to get away from that beast, George. I did. A few times. But, he kept me under his thumb with some unknown poison. To have to explain all of this to people so they won't think I just opened my legs to you, fell pregnant, then conveniently was abducted just turns my stomach, George, honestly." Rhiannon sighed, shaking her head.
"Are you… serious right now?" the Sheriff asked, shaking his head slowly.
"Yes, husband. I need my son to be accepted as the son of a nobleman, and appointed official. He is not a bastard. It's not his fault I was taken from you." Rhiannon frowned, then she kissed the boy's forehead while she lightly rubbed his back.
"He will be, Rhiannon. You mustn't concern yourself with that. You're my wife, and he's our legitimate son. I don't give a rat's bald arse if the Pope, or even Non King Richard have a problem with that. He is our boy, and he will be the future Sheriff of Nottingham." the Sheriff said, firmly.
"Very well. Then, I guess we decide how, and when… and who we tell about this. And, what we're going to name him. I'm happy to keep calling him 'darling' and 'sweet boy', but… " she smirked.
"Agreed, my lady. So far, I gathered you want Nic to know. I'll take care of that, just uncertain when. He's wrapped up in a few things at the moment. Training sessions, assisting us with rebel capture, and quite wrapped up with his new paramour." the Sheriff scoffed with a knowing quirk of his brow.
"Meridwyn mentioned something about that. Guy told her. We were discussing the plans for Friday evening." a beat. "So, I'm guessing he's smitten with her?" Rhiannon asked, curiously.
"Indeed. He needs to rein it in, and I think he knows it, too." he frowned. "Anyway, by the time we go to sleep tonight, we'll have made those decisions." a beat. "What's the plan with our son tonight, Rhiannon?"
"I'm debating that, George. Lady Margaret, naturally… " Rhiannon frowned, rolling her eyes. "She cautioned me that the boy must learn to sleep separately from us so he won't be too needy — or some such total codswallop! Honestly, he's a baby! What part of six month separation is she missing?"
"I see her point. It was nice having both of you beside me last night, though." a beat. "Even though I tried to stay awake so I wouldn't roll on him, or something similar." he frowned.
"Hmm. Guess we should decide on that, too, George." Rhiannon agreed. Then, she looked to the baby. "He's asleep now. I'm going to lay him on the bed. Let's go talk in there. I want to watch over him. Nothing in these rooms are as safe as that cradle."
"Well, that answers one question, my lady. He sleeps in his cradle. For the times you want him with us, we'll bring the cradle."
"You're right. Very well." Rhiannon nodded as she stood, holding the baby to her.
"You two go and get settled. I'll bring you some brandy and get a fire started in there." the Sheriff smiled.
Ancel helped Rebeccah down from the wagon, then led the horses to a place to secure them outside of the local tavern. They had just come from visiting Lady Rhiannon's manor. Rebeccah quickly collected more of her belongings, while Ancel briefly spoke with James.
In moments, he was back by her side, and he led her toward the door.
"Ah! Last I saw you before that riveting meeting today, right, you were with Draco, and Luke, just right inside there." he nodded behind him. "The newest recruit in the Black Knights, and yet another top bloke, right?" a beat. "No wonder the bloke with the blond braids has his bollocks in a twist, mate, right?" Slayer chuckled.
"Ancel? What is he talking about?" Rebeccah asked.
"I'll tell you inside." Ancel said, softly. Then, he looked to Slayer. "He does?" he asked.
"He does, mate. He doesn't mention you much, but he's got a right bee in his helm about Luke. Personally, I think he's just angry he didn't get the top bloke spot. The man is itching to start a fight. I can spot that a mile away, mate. I see blokes like angry braided bloke all the time, right? Yeah." Slayer nodded.
"Hmm. I'll keep that in mind. It might be worth it to keep an eye on him." Ancel said.
"I would, Ancel. Don't let him get out of line. He was trying to antagonize Luke yesterday. Luke mostly ignored it, and the rest of us weren't having it."
"Good to know. Think we can get a table at this time? It's not too busy, is it?" Ancel asked.
"It won't be a problem, mate. It's quiet for the moment. Things don't really pick up until closer to sundown, right?"
"Good. That's fine. If you get a break soon, come sit with us. This is Rebeccah, by the way." Ancel said.
"Pleased to meet you, Miss. I'm Slayer. Security man here, and also one of the members of Milord's City Watch. Look for me if you ever need assistance while your out in town, right, Miss?"
"I will. Pleased to make your acquaintance, too." Rebeccah nodded.
"I will be taking a break shortly. I'll look for you. You best go on inside. It's kind of cold out here for the lady, right." Slayer suggested.
"Indeed." Ancel nodded. Then, he led Rebeccah inside.
Ancel led her to a table near the back, close to a fireplace which had a roaring fire burning inside of it. A pretty blond servant was at their table moments after Ancel helped Rebeccah into her chair.
"What can I get you both to drink?" the server asked.
"Ale for me." Ancel said.
"Mead for me, please." Rebeccah nodded.
"Really?" Ancel asked.
Rebeccah nodded.
"Good. Anything from the kitchen? Today's special is venison stew. You also can't go wrong with our beef and kidney pie." she smiled.
"We'll take the stew." Ancel nodded.
The server nodded, then took her leave.
"Mead is strong, my dear. You sure you don't want wine, or ale instead?" Ancel asked.
"I need to relax. I've been wound up for too long. Mead will be just fine." she nodded. "Now, what on earth was that Slayer fellow talking about, Ancel?"
"He was referring to one of the men who recently returned after being away for quite a time on assignment. The one who returned seems to have a problem with one of the others. That's why I told Slayer I'd keep an eye on the disgruntled one." Ancel explained.
"Oh. I see." she nodded.
The server was back at their table, surprising them both with her fast, yet quiet approach.
"Right. Here we are. Mead for you, Miss." she said as she placed the mug in front of Rebeccah. "And, ale for you, Sir."
"Thank you, Miss." Ancel nodded.
"And, your stew is here, also." she smiled. She took the bowls from her tray and placed them in front of them and gave them both spoons and napkins.
"That was fast with the stew." Ancel remarked.
"It's a top seller. They keep a steady stream of it, simmering in the kitchen. Enjoy." she smiled, then she left them.
"It smells delicious." Rebeccah said, as she took a generous swill of the mead.
Ancel took a spoon of the stew and tasted it.
"Mmm. It's really good, Rebeccah. It is delicious." he smiled.
"So is this mead." Rebeccah smirked.
They ate their stew, and enjoyed pleasant conversation. After a time, the server returned to take their bowls and cutlery, and they drank from their mugs, enjoying each other's company.
"This is perfect, Ancel. It was a good time to come here. It's not noisy. We had a delicious meal, and we're just free to be ourselves." Rebeccah smiled.
"Of course, my dear. And, we can be free to be ourselves… " he began, then took a generous swig of his ale for courage. "Anytime you're… ready." he said, softly.
"Ancel, are you suggesting what I think you're — "
"Ah, good! I didn't interrupt your meal." Slayer surprised them as he suddenly appeared at their table. He turned and gestured to the blond server.
She quickly approached their table again.
"Edeva, love, bring me a mug of — "
"Lemonade. Got it. Your favourite stew is the special today. Shall I bring you a bowl, big guy?" she asked.
"Perfect, love. You know me well, right."
"Of course." she smiled, then went on her way.
"Is that your… lady friend?" Ancel asked.
"Edeva? No, mate. She's just a good friend of mine. Speaking of which, what's going on with you two, right?" Slayer asked, gesturing to the both of them.
"We're… very good friends, too." Rebeccah said, sipping of her mead.
"For now." Ancel added with a smirk.
Duke Farnsworth and his team arrived back to Nottingham Castle at dusk. Richard and Nigel approached the stables after the Duke and Alex, so they told them to go ahead and they'd meet them in the Council Quarters. When they finally left the stables, they noticed Emory escorting the Madam of the local brothel toward the front entrance of the castle.
"Now, why do you suppose Madam Birghiva is here… of all places, mate?" Nigel asked.
"Leave it to you to even know her name!" Richard sighed.
"Don't pretend like you've never been there!" Nigel admonished.
"Sure, but only because I was with mates who were insistent on going there." Richard argued, giving a knowing look.
"Whatever, mate. You got your jollies there. Don't pretend to be a bleeding saint. Come." Nigel said as he picked up the pace.
Soon, they were within a few feet of them.
"Madam Birghiva?" Nigel asked.
The Madam stopped, turning to face them.
"What brings you here?" Nigel asked.
"I'm here to see… a friend of mine. She is employed here." Madam Birghiva said with a nod.
"Isn't that Interesting?" Nigel smirked.
"Is it?" the Madam asked.
"Well, yes. It's rather unusual for you to be seen in such a place as this, wouldn't you agree?"
"For God's sake, Nigel!" Richard huffed.
"Right. And, does he know that you're one who used to be a regular customer of mine? Oddly, we haven't seen you in awhile now. About half a year? Or, perhaps a bit longer. I could usually count on you coming by at least thrice in a year. I like to call it the A, B, Cs. For the anniversary of your date of employment, your birthday, and Christmas — we could count on your patronage. Anniversary. Birthday. Christmas. A, B, C." Madam Birghiva smirked.
Richard chuckled and looked to the ground.
"How surprisingly clever of you." Nigel sneered.
"Whatever. I'll tell Gelldred, Aelina, and Sophronia you're back. They are your usual go to gals, aren't they? The Yuletide season is coming up, of course. Your birthday, too, I believe?"
"Indeed." Nigel sighed. Although, there was a true lady he was more interested in seeing — if she wasn't fit to kill him for taking off for six months, of course. "This friend of yours. What is it she does here? Is she a servant? A maid?" Nigel pressed.
"No. She assists Lady Rhiannon's personal Seamstress. My friend is also a Seamstress, and designs clothing." Madam Birghiva said. "Will that be all? I must see her, then get back."
"Of course." Nigel nodded.
Emory nodded for the Madam to follow him, and they went on their way.
"What the hell was that about, Nigel?" Richard demanded.
"Just a hunch."
"What?"
"I think the Seamstress' assistant might be a former consort. What a fascinating prospect, mate!" Nigel chortled.
"We don't know that, Nigel." Richard sighed.
"Who else is she going to be familiar with, Richard? Have you ever seen a noblewoman dropping by to visit her? Have you ever seen her out on the town in the company of any other woman besides those in her employ?" Nigel pointed out.
"No, but, in fairness, it's been many months since we've been here, and I never paid much attention to her in the first place." Richard reminded him.
"Ah, yes. The saint routine again. I'm telling you, mate, the assistant working for the Seamstress must have worked for the Madam once. Very… interesting." Nigel smirked.
"Why are you so determined to start trouble? I swear, since you started upping your training regime… and changed your look, you've become a little too confident. Arrogant, even." Richard said. He opened the door at the front entrance for them.
"All of us can always use improvements, mate. A little more training wouldn't hurt any of us." Nigel said.
"That may be, but try not to start trouble, mate." Richard cautioned.
"Wonder what Lady Rhiannon and Lady Gisborne think about a former consort being employed here — all of a sudden?" Nigel scoffed, as the two walked through the door.
"Nigel!" Richard sighed.
"I swear, Richard, the Sheriff isn't right. Someone is feeding him crazy potion." Nigel muttered.
Luke was speaking to Floria at her door. He felt badly he wasn't able to get back to her the night previous.
"Forgive me, my love. I thought I might be only tied up for an hour or two. I wasn't expecting it to take… all night." Luke explained.
"It's quite alright, Luke." Floria said, and sniffed. "You were busy. It's fine." she said, then looked downcast.
"Then… why do you appear as if you've been crying? Are you… alright?"
"It's fine, Luke. I have been, but it's not because of you. I promise you."
"Didn't I see Madam Birghiva a few moments ago? Was she here, Floria?" Luke asked.
"Yes. She brought a missive to me that arrived, but then she had to return to the brothel." Floria explained.
Luke reached out and grasped her hand.
"It was bad news, wasn't it?" he asked, softly.
"It was news, but more of the confusing sort. I mustn't keep you, Luke. Didn't you say you have a meeting to get to?"
"Yes. I do. But, you can tell me, Floria."
"I'd rather talk about it when we're not pressed for time." she said. She pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of her skirt and blew her nose with it.
"Very well. Will you be alright? I'll return to you as soon as I can."
"Of course, Luke. I appreciate that. You go on. I'll see you soon and tell you about this." Floria smiled.
He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it gently.
"Very well. I'll return to you soon, my love." he smiled, then he went on his way.
He ran into Ancel and Rebeccah as he headed toward the stairway.
"Oh. Good even, Ancel. Are you not coming to the meeting?"
"Yes, Luke. I'll be there directly. I'm not sure if you've been formally introduced. This is Rebeccah." Ancel nodded to her as he spoke.
"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss. I'm Luke. Another of the Sheriff's top men."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, too, Luke." Rebeccah nodded. She remembered his name being mentioned by Slayer. He said the Knight with the braids was antagonizing Luke yesterday. She couldn't imagine why. He seemed a nice fellow.
"I'm escorting Rebeccah to her door. It will only take a moment." Ancel said.
"If you like, I'll wait for you by the top of the stairs." Luke suggested.
"Perfect. I'll see you there soon." Ancel nodded.
Soon afterward, he stood at the door as Rebeccah opened it.
"Will you be alright, my dear? You were a little wobbly when I escorted you to the wagon." Ancel pointed out.
"I haven't felt this relaxed in a good long while, Ancel. Thank you." she smiled.
"Well, let me take this portmanteau inside for you, at least." Ancel said. He walked in and set it down upon a chair.
"Thank you. You're very kind."
"It's hard not to be where you're concerned." Ancel said. Then, he went to her and pulled her into his arms, and kissed her softly, yet passionately.
"Now, you've given me something sweet to think about while you will be busy." Rebeccah whispered. She smiled as she looked up into his eyes.
"Good."
"If it's not too late, you're always welcome to return."
"Oh, really?" he smiled.
"Yes. When we're not under a time constraint." she whispered.
"Very well, my dear. I'll see how this goes." Ancel said, then kissed her again. Then, he took his leave of her.
Once he arrived to the stairway, Luke stood waiting, eyeing him curiously.
"So, what was with the portmanteau?"
"She needed to collect more of her things from Lady Rhiannon's manor. Not surprising. The weather is changing. She needs warmer clothing." Ancel shrugged.
The men proceeded to descend the stairs.
"Does he know you took her there?" Luke asked.
"No. I had the time, so I offered. What's with the interrogation, Luke? And, while we're at it, where were you coming from? The armoury is two levels below us." Ancel pointed out with a knowing quirk of his brow.
"I came from my rooms." Luke lied. "In case you've never been in there, it's hotter than Hell in the armoury, and I'm not being funny about it. I needed to freshen up a bit." a beat. "He's really coming down hard on rule number — "
"That rule doesn't apply to me Luke. Rebeccah doesn't work for him." Ancel smirked.
"That may be, but he's paying attention to everyone's social activities. I'm not even sure he's thrilled about Nichol's situation." a beat. "Can't say as I blame him. The man was acting almost giddy yesterday." Luke scoffed.
"What situation?" Ancel asked.
"He has himself a lady friend. From the way he's acting, I think it's coming along rather… well." Luke smirked.
"I see. Well, since I'm not breaking rule number one, and if I continue to perform well, what would be the problem?" Ancel asked.
"I don't know, but he's got a bee in his helm of late. I expect we'll be hearing some of that buzzing shortly." Luke shrugged.
Things were picking up at the local tavern. A steady stream of customers were filing through the door, and then Slayer recognized a couple of them.
The men greeted him. They spoke for a few minutes, then he let them pass. He shook his head and frowned, but then got back to work.
Within a few moments, Blaise was by his side.
"Everything good? Charlie noticed you talking to a few of the customers before they came through. Were they giving you trouble?" Blaise asked.
"No. But, I have a problem, mate. And, you're going to help me."
"Wait. I am?" Blaise asked, bewildered.
"Stay here. I need to run down to Charlie's office, right. I must jot a quick message." Slayer said.
"Very well. But, Charlie expects me back inside to keep watch. The place is starting to fill, man. Quite odd for a Monday." Blaise pointed out.
"He'll understand. I'll fill him in after you've left to deliver the message." Slayer said with a knowing quirk of his brow.
"What? Where is it going?" Blaise asked.
"Not far. Nottingham Castle, mate. Directly to the Sheriff. Urgently. Wait here. I'll return directly, mate." Slayer instructed.
Then, he quickly made his way through a crowd gathered near the door and went inside.
A short time later, everyone was convened in the Council Quarters, seated and ready to begin.
The Sheriff cleared his throat, then addressed all of them.
"This meeting is called to order. We have a few things we need to discuss. The first is the addition of a new person to join our ranks for the more important missions. He is not new to us, but he'll be new to the work. Albert is being pulled from door duty. Lately, he's been manning the dungeon." he announced.
"You mean Alfred, Milord." Nichol said.
"Sure." he sighed.
"Really? Alfred? A fighter? What would prompt the change in his assignment, Milord?" Nigel asked.
"Nigel, ease up!" Richard admonished in a whisper.
"That would be his performance today." Nichol said.
"Not that I need to justify a decision of mine to you, Nigel, but he outperformed everyone at crossbow training — " Nottingham started to say.
"Including me." Nichol added.
"Indeed. Skills like that mustn't go to waste." he said, then he addressed all of them. "That change in assignment comes with a caveat. We must get him ready, which we will do. Nichol is going to handle that, and we must do it soon… because, that brings me to the next point of mention." the Sheriff hinted.
"Here it comes. Whatever he's contriving." Nichol muttered.
"We're going to burn the meeting place where the Jesus blokes convene once a fortnight." the Sheriff announced.
"I object, Milord. That will be considered an aggressive act of war. They will retaliate." Robert stated, firmly.
"A few short years ago, I rarely consulted anyone, Robert. I just did what I thought needed to be done. I still don't need your permission. Burning it will draw them closer into town. The place they gather in is just a bit north of that sodding church. It will possibly draw them to the church." the Sheriff said, firmly.
"I see." Robert sighed.
"And, what about Fladius?" Castor asked.
"He'll need to stay with his son until this bollocks blows over." he nodded. Next, he turned to Mordrid. "Mordrid, I'll leave that to you to inform him."
"Very well, Milord." Mordrid nodded.
"When do you plan to burn down… wherever this place is?" Gerad asked.
"First, we need intelligence." Nottingham said.
"A search?" Guy asked.
"We need to know where to find this Gunter Thorne bloke — the remaining henchman of the Jesus cult, and any other players. I also need to find out Merek Busby's involvement. I've got someone on that, but pay attention to anything unusual, or rumours you might hear. In the meantime, we will search the place they meet. I'm going to need all of the top Investigators on this, and we're going to need the best crossbowmen we have — Albert and Safforus — for show time." the Sheriff smirked as his eyebrow shot north, knowingly.
"Fuck, this is some kind of japery." Nigel muttered.
"Nigel!" Richard warned in a whisper.
The Sheriff looked to Nigel with his eyes narrowed in a frown.
"Something to add, Nigel?"
"Milord, with respect, of course… how will we possibly get Alfred prepared for that?" Nigel asked. Then he looked to Alfred. "Have you ever used your weapons, besides at training?"
"I use a longbow for hunting." Alfred said.
"Oh! Bolly for you, Alfred. That's a bit different than sixty five of these fighting Jesus blokes, though." Nigel sighed.
"And, we will have him ready, Nigel." the Sheriff said, firmly.
"He's right, Milord." Alfred said.
"It's time. You're ready." he said.
"As you wish, Milord." Alfred nodded.
"You know, I hear that phrase a lot from you, Albert. Why don't you enlighten me. What do you wish?" the Sheriff asked, pointedly.
"To serve you well, Milord." Alfred said.
"Good. Then, follow my directives."
"Yes, Milord Sheriff." Alfred agreed.
"Milord, how do you want to handle the search of their meeting place?" Luke asked.
"And, when?" Ancel added.
"And, when are we burning the place they hold their meetings?" Alex asked.
"Which will bring us to: The Nottingham Siege — Part Two." Nigel muttered.
"Nigel!" Richard whispered.
"Tomorrow, we conduct the search." the Sheriff said. He turned to his Captain. "Tomorrow, you will take the same men on your hunt for potato bloke, with the addition of Drake and Adam."
"Very well, Milord." Duke Farnsworth nodded.
Drake and Adam gave their verbal agreement.
"The top men, along with Castor and Gerad will be sent to the place the cult blokes meet at, and conduct a search. That's when you will notify Fladius, Mordrid. Collin's home is on your way there." Nottingham instructed.
"Yes, Milord." Mordrid nodded.
"Once that place has been cleared, then we make a plan for a nice big bonfire." the Sheriff scoffed.
"We haven't done that in awhile." Mordrid said.
"Indeed." Guy nodded.
"I don't know about this." Robert sighed.
"It's fine, Robert. The place they meet at is abandoned. No one owns it. No one will suffer. We'll be sending a message — "
"Oh, they'll get the message, alright. It's their response to it that concerns me." Robert said.
"And, we'll be prepared for it." he said, firmly. He looked to Alfred. "Your training will start on the morrow. I expect Nichol will want to start you — " the Sheriff began, but was cut off.
"Bright and early." Nichol said. "We've got some work to do, lad."
"Very well. I'll be there." Alfred nodded.
"Milord, the kind of training Alfred will need would take a good sennight — and that's probably a generous estimation." Nigel pointed out.
"After what I witnessed today, I'm confident a condensed version of training will work. Will there be any more objections, Nigel?" Nottingham exhaled sharply.
"No, Milord." Nigel sighed.
At this point in time, there was a knock on the door.
"What the bleeding hell?" Nottingham sighed. He called out for the sentry to enter.
The door opened and the sentry stood in the doorway.
"Milord, I'm to tell you that a man is here to give you a missive marked 'urgent'. " the sentry said.
Guy, Robert, Nichol, and the Captain exchanged curious looks with one another.
"As you can see, we've a meeting in progress." the Sheriff sighed.
Another man with a mop of dark hair appeared, directly behind the sentry. He moved beside the sentry, cleared his throat and prepared to speak.
Drake recognized him immediately.
"Milord, this message is from Slayer. He sent me to get this to you. It's explained in the letter." Blaise said.
The Sheriff nodded, gesturing for him to come forward.
Blaise walked into the meeting chamber, passing the Black Knights, and other of Nottingham's men. He took measured breaths to stay the intimidation he felt. He made it to the head of the table and passed a folded parchment to the Sheriff.
The Sheriff took it from him. He unfolded it and took a moment to read it. He nodded, then looked to the messenger.
"Very well. Tell him he'll have his reinforcements. Just give us a bit. They'll be there within the hour." the Sheriff said.
"Very well, Milord." Blaise nodded, then he turned to take his leave of him.
Everyone looked to the Sheriff, curiously, wondering what Slayer had to say.
"What is it, Milord?" Duke Farnsworth asked, nodding to the parchment.
"There will be changes to some assignments on the morrow. I just came up with a new plan." the Sheriff said.
"What's going on?" Guy asked.
"I shall read this to you." he said. He picked up the parchment and began:
"Milord Sheriff; I've sent my partner, Blaise, to deliver this as I must stay and keep watch. A couple of the fellows belonging to the Christian cult just showed. You may want to send a couple of your men. Others may be joining them. — Slayer." the Sheriff read aloud, then gave a knowing look to the men.
"Good work, Slayer." Nichol said, softly. He looked to his mate. "What's the plan?" he asked.
"I'm sending four men there." he said, simply.
"Who, Milord?" Duke Farnsworth asked.
"The first one who comes to mind is the one who could pass as a professional thespian." he said, then he looked to Ancel. "None of you will be in uniform. I want you all to blend in with the tavern denizens. You do that best, Ancel. You know how to cozy up to the worst of them while gathering information. You will coach the others on how to play parts." the Sheriff commanded.
"Very well, Milord." Ancel nodded.
"Two of you haven't been seen in town for months because you were away on assignment. Thus, you won't be as noticeable as others. Richard and Nigel, you will also join Ancel." the Sheriff said, firmly.
"Of course, Milord." Richard nodded.
"Very well, Milord. And, whom is the fourth man joining us?" Nigel asked.
"All of you were chosen for good reasons." a beat. "You're going to need a Bard." the Sheriff smirked.
Luke looked up at him, his eyes widened. He looked to the Sheriff, vehemently shaking his head. Then, he bent his head toward the table and sighed when he realized it was futile to protest.
"That would be you, Luke." the Sheriff said.
Many of the men let out a collective gasp.
"Wait. What?" Nigel asked, incredulously.
"I knew Safforus wasn't lying. So, you do sing, then!" Adam exclaimed.
"Is this for real, Milord? Luke?" Mordrid asked, shaking his head in disbelief.
"Damn it! Now, this — I'd pay to see!" Gerad grinned.
"I would concur." Castor chuckled.
"Agreed." Drake smirked.
"I'm kind of wishing I could see this, myself." Duke Farnsworth added.
"Me too." Nichol nodded.
"Milord, you can't be serious? He's liable to get us thrown out of the tavern for driving the patrons away." Nigel pointed out.
"That's what you think, Nigel, and you're wrong. I've heard him. The customers might enjoy it. Charlie might even offer him a job." the Sheriff smirked.
"Who is Charlie?" Emory asked.
"The owner and barman of the tavern." Drake said.
"Honestly?" Nigel asked, shaking his head.
"I'm as serious as scrofula, Nigel. Do pay attention and quit with the grumbling, won't you?" Nottingham sighed.
"Yes, Milord." Nigel sighed, then looked downcast.
"Milord, I'm not prepared for this at all, and I'm not warmed up." Luke protested.
"The fuck does that mean, kid? You frigid, or something?" Nigel chuckled.
"Nigel, you're going to be working in disguise with him soon. Get that chip off your shoulder and move on." Nottingham said softly, yet sternly. His eyes were narrowed in a frown.
"Very well." Nigel said, straight faced. He turned to Luke. "What do you mean by not being warmed up? What needs to warm up?" he asked.
"The throat needs a warm up of sorts. Humming and singing out notes in practice, and drinking a not too hot cup of lemon and honey tea beforehand helps loads — and I'm not being funny about it." Luke explained.
"Damn. Okay. I'll play. This should be good." Nigel scoffed.
"Except, I'm not warmed up." Luke said, simply. Next, he looked to the Sheriff. "This is going to be a carriage wreck, Milord, and I'm not being funny about it." he sighed, folding his arms.
"Damn, I'm not dreaming. Another one who kept their talent hidden. I'll be damned!" Gerad chuckled.
"Indeed." Drake agreed.
"Were you warmed up the night I heard you, Luke? You sounded prepared to me. Do your humming thing, or whatever it is you do to get ready, and take whichever instrument you play with you. You might as well make it good and put on a believable show, lad. Once you get to the tavern, explain this to Slayer, and have him clear your musical interlude with Charlie." the Sheriff instructed.
Duke Farnsworth began to chuckle, softly.
"Very well." Luke sighed.
"Ye play an instrument, too?" Castor asked.
"Yes. A few." Luke nodded.
"Ha! Deadly!" Alex chuckled.
"Christ. The jokes just never end around here lately." Nigel muttered, softly.
"Calm down, mate. Let's see how this plays out." Richard whispered.
"I can already guess. It will be farcical, Richard." Nigel sighed.
"Nigel, What the bleeding hell is the problem now?" Nottingham demanded.
"Just… concerned this won't come off as well as you expect, Milord." Nigel said, smoothly.
"It will be fine — as long as you don't get a superiority complex and try to start trouble." he said, sternly.
"Yes, Milord." Nigel nodded. He was seething on the inside. This plan was a joke to him.
"Now, before you go off and get ready for your interesting venture, this will change tomorrow's assignments a touch. Richard and Nigel, instead of heading off to Sherwood you'll be helping Nichol train Alistor." he said, firmly.
"Alistor, Milord? Who… is that?" Richard asked, somewhat confused.
"He means Alfred, Richard." Mordrid said.
"Indeed." Alfred muttered.
"Right. Very well." Richard nodded.
"Of course, Milord." Nigel agreed.
"Duke, you'll have to manage with Drake, Adam, and Alex. Will that be agreeable?"
"Indeed, Milord. We'll be fine." the Captain said.
"The four heading into town right now will require a later start on the morrow. Make it mid morning. Something for you to keep in mind, Nichol, as well as Mordrid, Gerad, and Castor." he said as he eyed all those he mentioned.
"Understood, Milord." Nichol nodded.
The other three nodded in agreement.
"Emory, you shall man the portcullis with Beric on the morrow." the Sheriff instructed.
"Yes, Milord." Emory nodded.
"Good. Meeting adjourned. The four of you on tavern assignment, make haste. And, utilize Slayer. He's on our team now, and he's good." the Sheriff instructed.
Most of the men started to file out of the room.
"Milord, if I may?" Ancel asked.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Requesting permission for the tavern team to convene here and now for a brief subsidiary meeting." Ancel asked.
"The hell do we need to have a meeting about? We know our task. We need to go. The comical tough guy on City Watch is being told to expect us within the hour." Nigel pointed out.
"True. And, I was tasked to coach you on blending in. The tavern isn't far. We'll make it." Ancel said with a knowing quirk of his brow.
"Request granted. I'll summon for that not too hot lemon honey tea vomit you mentioned, Luke." the Sheriff sighed, then stood from his chair.
"Uh… thank you, Milord." Luke said.
"Alright, so we opt for normal clothing. What else should we be doing?" Richard asked Ancel.
"You two might not be as much of a problem as Luke and I will be, because no one in town has seen you for many months. I'd suggest pulling up your hoods before we enter, though. There's also things we can do to disguise our appearance." Ancel explained.
"Really? None of us can grow beards that fast, or change our hair, or eye colour." Luke pointed out.
"No, but we can do things to camouflage our look." Ancel said.
Guy, Robert, and Nichol sat at one end of the table, listening in. They were finding Ancel's explanations fascinating.
The Sheriff returned to the table and joined his Advisors and Lieutenant.
"The hell are you talking about, man? You want me to darken my hair with coal, or something?" Nigel scoffed.
"Can't change my hair colour." Richard sighed.
"Indeed." Luke nodded.
"No. But, we can use cold coal from the fireplace to make… enhancements." Ancel said.
"What? How?" Luke asked.
"This is ludicrous." Nigel muttered.
Ancel stood from his chair and walked over to the fireplace. As he did so, the Sheriff answered a knock on the door. He returned with the tea and took it to Luke as Ancel was returning to the table holding a cooled piece of coal.
"What are you planning to do with that?" Nigel asked, suspiciously.
Ancel reached over to grab the pitcher of water. It was the only thing reflective he could think of inside the meeting chamber to use. He took a seat and bent down, peering into his reflection as everyone watched him hold the coal to his face and draw with it. They were completely perplexed and riveted all at once.
Within moments, he looked up at them.
"Holy fuck. Deadly." Nigel smirked.
"I like it." Richard nodded.
"Really? Who ever heard of a Bard looking like that?" Luke asked, shaking his head. Then, he sighed and sipped of his lemon and honey tea.
"Will you show us, Ancel?" Nichol asked.
Ancel turned to face them.
"Interesting." Guy nodded.
"A little… scary looking." Robert frowned.
"Intriguing. I think I… like it." the Sheriff smirked.
"I would concur. Definitely don't look like a Black Knight anymore." Nichol's nodded.
"Indeed." Ancel said.
Luke took another sip of the tea and began humming and tapping his fingertips on the table.
"What kind of song are you going to do Luke? Whatever you're humming and tapping to seems upbeat." Richard asked.
"It's almost like an anthem of sorts. A sort of battle cry." Luke said.
"Something you heard, I take it?" Ancel asked.
"No. I wrote it."
"Ha! Seriously? You composed a whole damned tune?" Nigel scoffed.
"Yes. I've written a few of them." Luke said, then took another sip of the tea.
"Fine. I'll play. What's the title of the tune?" Nigel asked, curiously.
"It's called 'Lightning Struck'. And, now that I think of it, the coal might be an interesting enhancement while… performing it." Luke said.
"Right. I'll pass this over to you lads, and you can apply it, too. You keep warming up, Luke, or whatever it is you need to do. Drink that tea. Richard and Nigel can get to work with it while you do that, then you will apply the coal. After that, you better get whatever instrument you need from your rooms." Ancel suggested.
"Very well." Luke nodded.
Luke resumed tapping his fingertips on the table, and humming. Then, he began mouthing words, synchronizing them to the beat of the finger tapping, as Richard began applying coal to his face the way Ancel had demonstrated.
"Luke, why don't you run a few lines of your song for us?" the Sheriff suggested.
"Now?" Luke asked, surprised.
"No, Luke. Tomorrow." Nottingham sighed. "Of course, now!"
"I'm already nervous at the idea of doing this at the tavern. I don't know — "
"You might just as well get inured to it, Luke." a beat. "We've got you booked for December thirteenth." the Sheriff smirked.
"Excuse me, Milord?" Luke asked, incredulously.
"Wait. What?" Nigel asked.
"A celebration for my wife that night. It's her birthday the next day." Guy explained.
"I suggest the Medley Broth — " Luke began, but was interrupted.
"Yes. And, you will do a tune or two, as well. Consider it a part of your penance for Saturday's slip up. Now, get on with it and sing a couple lines of this battle cry tune of yours." the Sheriff directed him.
Luke sighed.
"Alright." he nodded, then he took a few sips of the throat soothing tea. "I feel silly doing this, but since you insist, this is actually the second chorus in it." Luke said.
He took a couple of deep breaths as all eyes were upon him. Then, he began to tap a fast beat on the table with his hands. After a couple of moments of build up, he began to sing in a high register.
"So many miles, travelled all alone,
Over the moors, the hills, for years,
I wasn't done.
They never saw it coming,
Sleight of hand and twist of fate;
Gave a good blow, put on a show,
It's never too late." Luke sang. He tapped his hands on the table a couple of beats after the last note and stopped.
Guy, Robert, and Nichol were visibly stunned. Despite that, they applauded, along with the others. Nigel gave a slow clap and chuckled.
The Sheriff grinned.
"I want to hear more. When does the lightening struck part come into it?" Richard asked, curiously. He passed the piece of coal to Nigel.
"Very soon after that." Luke said.
"Question, before I comment on how that sounded — what inspired this tune? The damaged tree from a lightning bolt in Lady Hayward's yard?" Ancel asked.
"Sounds interesting. I'd like to see that sometime." Richard said.
"No doubt, mate." Nigel agreed. Then, he went back to applying the coal.
"No. The lightning is more of a metaphor, sort of. It refers to my sword. I've never told anyone before, because it seems a bit odd, but… I gave my sword a name years ago: Lightning." Luke explained.
"Ha! Deadly!" Guy chuckled.
"Indeed." Nottingham nodded.
"As a Blacksmith, I don't find that odd, Luke. Many have been known to name their sword. King Arthur named his 'Excalibur'. Or… maybe it was that sorcerer character, Merlin, who named it?" Robert pondered, stroking his chin.
"Or, the siren." Richard added.
"I'd forgotten that. Thanks, Robert. Now I don't feel so silly for naming it." Luke nodded, then sipped some more of the tea.
"Jesus, Luke. You're good! Why did you keep this secret?" Ancel asked.
"Because who ever heard of a musically inclined Knight?" Luke pointed out.
"Indeed." Nigel said. He passed the coal to Luke. "Your turn, kid. Hate to say it, but it sounds like you're warmed up, or whatever. Use the coal then we best head out."
Luke took the coal and pulled the water pitcher closer to him, and went to work with it.
"I want you to perform that song at my wife's birthday celebration, Luke." Guy said.
"Indeed. I need to hear more of that one." Nichol agreed.
Luke looked up at him, pausing for a moment with the coal in hand.
"I don't know if it's appropriate for that, Sir Guy. It's kind of a dark theme." Luke explained.
"Hmm. He might be right, Gis. Just from the wording used in it, I think I know what inspired that tune." the Sheriff said. He suspected the song was inspired by the vengeance Luke took for his family.
"It doesn't matter. It's uptempo and catchy. I think Meridwyn will like it. I think Lady Rhiannon might like it, too." Guy pointed out.
"I don't know about Meridwyn, but I agree. I think Rhiannon will like it." the Sheriff smirked.
"I think my lady will like it, too. She's kind of an… edgy sort." Nichol grinned.
"Very well. If that is your wish. It's your party, I suppose." Luke shrugged. Then, he continued applying the coal.
Moments later, Luke finished his task and drank all of the tea. The four men arose from their chairs, promising the Sheriff they would be back with prisoners.
Once they were outside the meeting chamber, Ancel told the men he needed one more thing from his rooms, and suggested he walk up with Luke.
"We need to find more suitable clothing, too." Richard said.
"Indeed. We'll all head to our rooms, then meet at the stables." Ancel suggested.
The men made their way to the stairs.
Nigel's and Richard's rooms were closest to the stairs. They went inside their chambers, as Luke and Ancel kept walking.
Moments later, Luke looked to Ancel, suspiciously.
"We just passed your door, Ancel." Luke pointed out.
"I need to stop at Rebeccah's door first."
"Weren't you just with her recently? Can she not wait until we return?" Luke asked, with an exasperated huff.
"No, Luke. I'm going to borrow something from her for this venture." Ancel said.
"What? You can't be serious! What would she have that would be of any possible use to you… for this?"
"You'd be surprised, Luke." Ancel smirked.
"Not that I'm in a rush, but we don't have time for you to cozy up to her." Luke sighed, stopping at his door.
"I know. That's not the point of my visit. Trust me, Luke. It's all part of… the look." Ancel hinted.
"What?"
"Go on, Luke. I'll see you at the stables directly." Ancel said.
"Very well." Luke sighed, then went inside his rooms.
Soon, Ancel was at her door. She answered his knock within moments.
Rebeccah was startled when she saw his face. She couldn't believe it, but, somehow he looked ten times more handsome than he already was, and he was very handsome to her.
"Ancel? What is… what have you done to your face?" she smirked.
"It's part of a plan. The Sheriff is sending myself, Luke, and two others to a place where… some unfavourable characters are gathered, and we… can't look like Black Knights." Ancel explained briefly.
"I see. Well, you've definitely accomplished that. I can't think of anyone besides Celts who use war paint, or whatever. Certainly, none of the Sheriff's Knights." she smiled.
"Is it… bad?" he asked.
"No. It's… uh… rather arousing, I think." Rebeccah said. She could feel her cheeks flushing.
That detail did not go unnoticed by Ancel.
"Really?" he smirked.
"Indeed. Shouldn't you be on your way, then? Or, did you just come to show me the new look?"
"I need to borrow something, Rebeccah, if you'd be so kind. You'll get it back when we return."
"Very well. Just promise not to wash your face before you see me next. I like that, Ancel." Rebeccah smirked. "Do come in." she said, holding the door for him.
Lady Rhiannon held her sleepy baby in her arms when she answered the knock at the door.
"I hope you don't mind my dropping by." Isabelle said, astonished to see she was holding the wee lad.
"Not at all, Sister. Come in." Rhiannon smiled. She held the door open for her.
"Thought I might have seen you before now. Then, I got a bit busy and forgot our riding lesson." Rhiannon remarked while closing the door.
"I had a very lazy day. I… didn't sleep well last night. I made up for it this afternoon." Isabelle explained. "I must say, I'm pleased to see you holding him. You seem more at ease with him." she said, nodding to the baby.
"I remembered, Isabelle." Rhiannon said.
"Good news, indeed, Sister." Isabelle smiled.
"Yes. Reading those missives again did the trick."
"I'm glad. It was time." a beat. "Have you seen Meridwyn?"
Rhiannon sighed. She went to a chair to get more comfortable while holding the baby.
"Meridwyn is resting, Isabelle." she said.
"Already? Is she not well?"
"She had a fright last night. You may as well know." Rhiannon frowned.
"What happened?" Isabelle asked. She walked to a chair across from her sister in law and seated herself.
"It looked like she was starting her labours. Lady Margaret saw to her right away, and it is stopped. The pains stopped just before dawn." Rhiannon said.
"Oh, my! I'm glad Lady Margaret got that sorted. Poor dear Meridwyn." Isabelle sighed.
"Indeed. We could see her on the morrow if you like? She was also asking to see my boy. As long as she stays settled the three of us could look in on her." Rhiannon suggested.
"That sounds grand. I'd like that." Isabelle smiled.
"What about you?" Rhiannon asked.
"Excuse me?"
"Are you well? You said you didn't sleep last night, and it sounds like you slept a lot today. Is everything well with you? You haven't been yourself of late, you must admit."
"Oh, yes. I feel fine. I just couldn't get comfortable last night. Tossed and turned frequently. It wasn't because of feeling unwell." Isabelle said, smoothly. She could never admit the truth — that she kept her husband awake all night. She was on fire for him, and she also hoped all of that intimacy might help to speed things up since the copious amounts of the witch's brew she had consumed didn't do a thing.
"Good. Perhaps tomorrow we could do a quick riding lesson." Rhiannon suggested. She grabbed a soft blanket that was laying over the arm of the chair and used it to cover the baby with.
"That will be fine." Isabelle nodded. She looked at the baby and smiled. "He looks so content and serene, Rhiannon."
"Yes. He's finally where he belongs. My poor sweet boy." Rhiannon said softly, then kissed the baby's head.
"Are you thinking of a name?" Isabelle asked.
"We're working on that. We have some ideas. We're going to get that sorted when George returns." Rhiannon nodded.
"That's good to hear." Isabelle agreed. She paused a moment, then decided to ask about something that was on her mind. "Have you ever heard of a… Dead Man's Curve?"
"No, but wherever it is, it doesn't sound good." Rhiannon frowned. She looked to Isabelle, suspiciously. "Is my husband planning to go there? Is that what Robert told you?"
"No. I didn't hear it from Robert. I heard someone else mention it. I was… just curious, is all."
"It's better we don't know of such a place, Isabelle. Sounds like a place to avoid." Rhiannon warned.
"Indeed." Isabelle nodded.
The Sheriff, Guy, and his Advisors were still conferring in the Council Quarters.
"Damn. Would I like to be a fly on the wall at the tavern — just to hear Luke." Guy chuckled.
"Agreed. He's great! Can't imagine that with whatever backing instrument he's taking with him." Nichol smiled.
"Right? Told you he was good. He's damn good." the Sheriff said.
"I've never heard a tune like that." Robert added.
"I've a mind to go over there. Just pull up the hood of my surcoat, sit in a corner blending in with the wall, like I used to do before Prince John got to me." Nichol said.
"And, take Lady Kaeliss with you?" Nottingham asked with a knowing quirk of his brow.
"No. She'll hear it at Lady Meridwyn's party. Besides, if the men needed me for any reason, Kaeliss would get in the way." Nichol said.
"Funny. I'd like to do that, too, but I should check on my wife." Guy said.
"Would she be annoyed if you left, Gis?" Nichol asked.
"No. Not at all. It's nothing like that. She's… not herself." Guy muttered.
"Is she unwell?" Nichol asked.
"She was acting like… she was going to lose our child last night. It's fine. Lady Margaret got everything under control. It stopped before dawn, but she's still under the care of the midwife." Guy explained.
Lady Margaret. Was this the same woman Lady Rhiannon referred to in the stables on Saturday night? Nichol wondered. It had to be! But, she was in Nettlestone then?
"Lady Margaret. Are you referring to James' wife?" Nichol asked, curiously.
"Yes. She's a midwife. I thought you knew that, Nic?" Guy asked.
"She had only just started up her practice before I was injured. Anyway, I'm glad she fixed whatever the problem was with your wife." Nichol said.
"Yes. I'm glad of it, too." Guy nodded.
"I'm sorry to hear that, Sir Guy. Is there anything Isabelle and I can do?" Robert asked.
"Everything's fine. She'll probably want to see Isabelle on the morrow. She's already going a bit stir crazy being stuck in the bedchamber." Guy said.
"Of course. Perhaps some company will help." Robert nodded.
"Indeed. Guy agreed.
"Are you going to go watch the show at the tavern, Nic?" the Sheriff asked.
"I thought about it, but… no. The men might notice me and all that will do is mess up whatever plan they've contrived. Especially, Luke. He is good, I'll agree there; but, it's clear he's nervous about sharing that side of himself." Nichol said.
"He shouldn't be. He's talented. He had me mesmerized. If he could pull that off in perfect pitch with no instrument backing him, I don't know why he'd be shy about it?" Robert wondered.
"I imagine it's because it's not something he does very often." the Sheriff said. Then, he looked to Nichol. "You going to visit your lady?"
"No. Like I told you earlier, mate, I'm taking a break tonight. Perhaps I'll stop by tomorrow evening." Nichol said.
Drake and Adam were in the stables taking their horses from their stalls. When they exited the castle, they could see the four men assigned to the tavern riding together towards the portcullis.
The men walked their horses out, then mounted them.
"We'll make this brief. We have an early start in the morning, Adam." Drake reminded him.
"Of course. I'm sure they won't be there long. We'll just be discreet, try not to get noticed by anyone -- including them, listen to Luke, then go." Adam said.
They kicked their horses into motion and headed toward the portcullis.
"Slayer will recognize us, mate. He's always at the door." Drake warned.
"The men will have already spoken to him about Luke. We'll just tell Slayer to keep our presence a secret unless our assistance is needed. He's going to have two top men, plus Richard and Nigel there. If, for some strange reason Ancel and Luke can't get a grip in there, Nigel will handle whatever comes." Adam said, confidently.
"Alright. Sounds good. Let's go watch our mate entertain. Hopefully he won't make an ass of himself." Drake chuckled.
"Milord said he's good, Drake." Adam pointed out.
"True, but his opinion might be biased. We shall see."
They cleared the portcullis, then picked up the pace of their horses, the nearly full moon lighting their path.
Gisborne and Robert took their leave from the meeting chamber. The Sheriff used this moment to question his friend further.
"Alright. It's just us now, Nic. Were you truthful earlier when you explained why you didn't wish to see your lady this evening?" the Sheriff asked.
"Yes. That pretty much sums it up." Nichol shrugged.
"Well, can't say as I'm disappointed, but, I'm a bit surprised. The way you were raving earlier that she's the best fuck in England — it is surprising." he scoffed.
"That's just it, mate. That part is perfect, but there's no other parts to it. And, the part that is getting to me is this: what if… it's an addiction? An affliction of sorts?" Nichol frowned.
"Well, you do act like an infatuated boy about it, but… an addiction? No, Nic. We've been there once. You're not weak. You weren't even weak then, because you fought it and won. You wouldn't allow a woman to hook you like a poison once did." Nottingham said, assuredly.
"Every part of me wants to go over there right now, George. It's like I've been bewitched." Nichol sighed.
"Maybe it's because you have nothing to compare this to? I don't remember you ever being in a serious courtship. Then again, neither had I." he sighed. "It could be confusion about that, or maybe she really does lead you by the bollocks. Either way, I'm glad you're using your head a little more." Nottingham said with a knowing quirk of his brow.
"Of course." Nichol nodded.
"Since she has you ruminating over the entire two day affair already, does this mean you're reconsidering bringing her to the feast with the Prince and his wife on Friday?" he scoffed.
"No. I still want to bring her. It will… actually be refreshing to see her in a normal setting. I'm interested to see how she'll conduct herself, frankly." Nichol said.
"Ah. So, a test, then?" the Sheriff smirked.
"Of course. I already know she excels at pleasing me in the bedchamber. Now, I need to know how she conducts herself in other situations. I don't even know if she can hold a conversation? I guess the longest one was the first night I was there. Through the meal and dessert. That was probably close to an hour. The conversation decreased rapidly after dessert… and in a steady decline since." Nichol smirked.
"I see. Well, good you're keeping your wits about you. It might be a long day for you on the morrow." the Sheriff said knowingly while opening the door.
The men were a formidable looking group as they strode alongside each other toward the door of the tavern. Each wore basic black leather surcoats over their clothing. Their hoods were up. All had lined their eyes using the coal, some added lines or crosses at the corners of their eyes, or down over their cheeks. Ancel and Nigel each sported on earring — a silver drop earring that featured a small dangling cross, courtesy of Rebeccah.
"I gotta say, kid, that's the funniest looking lute I've ever seen." Nigel said, nodding to the six stringed instrument slung over Luke's shoulder.
"That's because it's not a lute. It's a gittern." Luke said.
"A what?" Nigel asked.
"It's similar to a lute, but has a different sound. I can play a lute, too, but I like this a bit better." Luke said.
"Right. So, you got your instrument. Did you bring your blade. Lightning, or whatever?" Nigel pressed.
"Nigel!" Richard sighed.
"It's a valid question, Richard. Ease up!" Nigel huffed.
"Yes. I'm armed." Luke nodded.
"Alright. There's Slayer. Let's see what he has to say, then we'll get Luke cleared with that Charlie fellow." Ancel directed them.
They waited behind a small group that were entering before them, keeping their heads down. Slayer let the group pass, then the men looked up at him as they moved in closer.
Slayer narrowed his eyes at them for a second or two, then he began to chuckle.
"Oh. So, you're the team the Sheriff sent for this, right? Okay. Got it." Slayer said. Moments before, he let Drake and Adam enter. They insisted he must keep quiet about them being there, but he could've sworn they were jesting.
"You seem confused. As if others in the Black Knights were expected?" Richard said, quietly.
"The only thing I'm confused by, right, is… what in the devil did the lot of you do to your faces? And, what's with those ear bob things? How the hell did you get those things in your earlobes, right? Holy fuck, mates." Slayer chuckled.
"They kind of screw on at the back." Nigel sighed.
"Quality!" Slayer exclaimed. Then, he straightened his expression as he looked to Luke. "Mate? What the bleeding hell is that funny looking lute doing slung over your shoulder? You planning to use that as a weapon? About the only use for it, right? That would cave a bloke's head in, I imagine. Yeah." Slayer chuckled.
"Not really, Slayer. It's hollowed to make the sounds necessary. It's a gittern." Luke said.
"What the hell do you need that for, then?" Slayer asked, curiously.
"He's going to play it. We need you to clear that with Charlie." Ancel said firmly, while folding his arms.
"What? Are you people for real right now?" Slayer asked, incredulously.
"Look, City Watch tough guy. We're here on assignment, but only you and your man, Charlie, can know that. That's why we're dressed like this, and why the kid is carrying that ridiculous looking musical instrument. He's posing as a Bard, while the rest of us watch those Jesus blokes. Try to keep up." Nigel spat.
"Just as pleasant as you were yesterday — as pleasant as a dose of the flux." Slayer said flatly, folding his arms.
"Look. You either need us, or you don't. The Sheriff sent us, directing us to be out of uniform, and asking the kid to perform. Are you going to let us pass, or not?" Nigel asked, with a sharp exhale.
"Very well." Slayer said. "I'll have a word with Charlie, then I'll point them out to you. I need to get my partner to cover the door."
"Perfect. Don't use our names. No one else needs to know our identities." Ancel said.
Slayer nodded and gestured for them to go inside.
Drake and Adam were seated at a table at the back of the room. They were glad they took a shortcut to get there, because they didn't see the men assigned to the tavern as they looked around the room.
"Good thing we took that shortcut, Drake. I can't believe they didn't do the same." Adam said.
"Luke and Ancel might not be familiar with it. The other two might have forgotten about it since they've been away for half a year." Drake suggested.
"Indeed. Good for us. And, good we picked a spot with no empty tables near us."
Just then, Drake noticed the four men walking inside the tavern.
"Here they come, Adam. Keep your hood up and your head low." Drake said.
"What the hell is that… that Luke is carrying? That's the funniest looking lute I've ever seen." Adam smirked.
Just then, a familiar blond server, with pretty brown eyes appeared at their table.
"What can I get you fellows from the bar?" she asked.
"Ale for me." Adam said.
Drake looked up for a brief moment, then bent his head down.
"Same for me." he said.
"Didn't I see you with Slayer last night? Funny. You were drinking mead then." Edeva said.
Adam looked to Drake, curiously.
"Uh… " Drake muttered.
"Yes. There was a pretty raven haired lady seated with you both. Although, she seemed to be entirely focused on only y — "
"Yes. That was me. Slayer knows we're here, but you didn't see us tonight." Drake said.
"Oh. I get it. You're meeting with another lady altogether this night, I'd wager. Typical." Edeva snorted.
"Not quite, but — " Drake began, but was cut off.
"But, we're not here." Adam said, with an eyebrow raised, knowingly.
"Right. I'll be back directly with ale for you pair of invisibles." Edeva smirked. Then, she took her leave.
"Interesting. I can only think of one lady we know that matches that description. You and Slayer were with Lady Gunilda here — last night?" Adam asked, suspiciously.
"Of course, she knows me, Adam. I was sent to guard her home a sennight ago. She recognized me, so she sat with us… for a bit." Drake explained, leaving out the part where he escorted her home, then bedded her.
"Hmm. Interesting." Adam remarked.
"It's really not." Drake sighed.
They saw Slayer coming in through the door. Drake noticed him walking over and having a word with Blaise for a moment. Blaise nodded, then headed out the door as Slayer went to the bar.
Charlie, the owner and barman, listened to Slayer's briefing. At the end of it, he sighed, then asked another man to cover him at the bar. Moments later, Slayer led him to the table where the four men had just been seated.
"Alright, men. For those of you who don't know him, this is Charlie." Slayer said, gesturing to the barman.
The men quietly introduced themselves to Charlie.
"Right. So, you men are Black — " Charlie remarked, but was cut off.
"No one needs to know that, Charlie. Only you and Slayer know… and I guess the other security guy that Slayer sent with the missive." Ancel said, then he looked to Slayer. "Be sure to tell your security partner to keep our real identities under wraps, too."
"Of course, mate." Slayer nodded.
"I see. I recognize two of you, but I haven't seen either of you before." Charlie said suspiciously, addressing Richard and Nigel.
"We were away on assignment for quite a time." Richard said.
"Six sodding months. We only just got back, late Saturday night." Nigel said.
"Right. And, Slayer tells me that part of your ruse here tonight involves… " Charlie began then swung his head toward Luke. "You. Posing as a Bard. Can you actually play that weird looking lute? And, even more importantly — can you actually sing?"
"Yes to both of your questions. It's not a lute, it's actually a gitt — "
"That's fine. As long as you can play it, the proof will be in the pudding. It's often a tough crowd here, lad. People generally come here to drink and parlay. We shall see what you can do." Charlie chuckled.
"Fair enough." Luke said.
"How much time do you need, lad?" the friendly barman asked.
"If you could send someone with a hot lemon and honey tea, that would be grand. Then, I just want to check the tuning on my gittern, in case I need to improvise." Luke said.
"Right. About a quarter of an hour, then?" Charlie pressed.
"Yes. Perfect." Luke nodded.
"Guess this won't be over fast." Nigel muttered.
"It's better we take our time anyway, mate." Richard said, quietly.
"What kind of tune you planning to start out with, lad?" Charlie asked, nodding to the instrument.
"Probably a balla — "
"Nope. Definitely not a ballad, lad. Everyone does ballads, and it bores the life out of people, especially our regulars. I suggest you start with something catchy and unique. Otherwise, they're liable to throw apples at you and boo you off the stage." a beat. "Trust me. Told you it's a tough crowd here." Charlie said with a knowing quirk of his brow.
"Well, mate, best of luck or whatever they say, right, to you musical types. I hope you're good. I hope you're damn good. Otherwise, this is going to be a right disaster in here." Slayer said with a sigh.
"I can't believe I'm saying this, but… I think the kid might be able to manage it." Nigel shrugged.
"Oh, he can manage it." Ancel smirked.
"We shall see. What can I get the rest of you to drink while we're preparing the lemon beverage for your Bard guy here?" Charlie asked dryly, nodding to Luke.
"It's best we don't drink. You got anything that can sort of pass as ale?" Richard asked.
"Yes. But, you're not going to get that froth on the surface." Charlie warned.
"I see. What would be the substitute?" Ancel asked.
"Apple juice."
"Christ. That stuff looks like piss. Can't get past that." Nigel sighed.
"Alright, we'll take diluted ale. By fifty percent. That won't affect our performance." Ancel said.
"I wish we could just drink water." Nigel said.
"Nigel, blokes that look like us — " Ancel started to say.
"I've never seen any man that looks like you lot." Charlie scoffed.
"I concur, Charlie, right?" Slayer chuckled.
"Indeed." Ancel sighed. He looked back to Nigel. "Blokes don't come in here to order water. That will make us appear suspicious."
"Fine." Nigel said.
"Right. I'll get that taken care of." Charlie said, then left the table.
"Okay, Slayer. Discreetly point out these… cult blokes that are here somewhere." Ancel instructed.
"Three tables in from the door, to your left, but it would be your right if you were coming from outside. You see them?" Slayer asked, quietly.
"Yes. There's three of them gathered there, if I've spotted the right table." Ancel said.
"Yes. That's them. The tall bloke met them after I sent the message to the Sheriff." Slayer nodded.
"The blokes just look like ordinary townspeople. Strange." Luke said, softly.
"It's not like they'd be wearing signs hung around their necks that say 'Jesus Blokes', kid." Nigel scoffed.
"No kidding." Luke sighed. He took the gittern from his shoulder and began to pluck each string to check the tuning.
"Don't most people use a quill on the strings of those?" Richard asked.
"Yes. It's down to personal preference. I prefer to just use my fingers." Luke said.
"Damn! I can only imagine the state of your fingertips afterward, right, depending on how you play that thing, mate." Slayer frowned.
"Yes, it can be a problem if you're playing for awhile." Luke shrugged.
"Speaking of problems, has there been any problems with those Jesus blokes, Slayer?" Ancel asked.
"So far, they haven't been any trouble. I'll leave them to you to do your thing. You know where to find me if you need back up." Slayer said.
Drake and Adam were sipping their ale, looking across the room at their comrades.
"Was that the bar owner that Slayer took to meet with them, mate?" Adam asked.
"Yes. Looks like he's going to let Luke play. It looks like Luke is checking that odd looking lute." Drake said.
"Wonder how this is going to go over?"
"I guess we shall find out soon, mate." Drake grinned.
The Sheriff strolled into his private chambers. He went straight to the brandy decanter and poured himself a measure into a goblet, then he headed into the bedchamber, looking for his wife.
He opened the doors and walked into the room.
"Rhiannon? I hope you're prepared for a jolly good time tonight. It's been awhile since I've ravished — " He stopped when he noticed, finally. The room was dimly lit, so it took a few moments for his eyes to adjust.
Rhiannon was seated in a chair, bent down, lightly massaging the baby's back. He was laying in the cradle before her, looking like he was falling off to sleep.
"So, we're having company tonight, my lady?" he chuckled.
"Yes. In case Lady Margaret is needed for Meridwyn. He's only just settled now. Something was bothering him, George. The poor thing was fussy. Acting like his wee belly was hurting." Rhiannon frowned.
"But, he seems fine now?"
"It was dreadful, my love. He was so unhappy and it took a lot to make him feel better. I just wanted whatever was troubling him to go away." Rhiannon said, softly.
"Seems to me whatever you did for him worked." he said as he advanced closer toward them. "Have you thought more of what we talked about earlier?" the Sheriff asked.
"Yes. For now, you can disclose this with Nichol and Luke. Besides Sir Guy, you trust them the most."
"Indeed, my lady."
"As for the rest, theres a couple of different options we can choose for his given name." Rhiannon said.
"Good. We'll get to that in a few moments. I'll send for a tray, and bring you a goblet of brandy. Looks like you could use it, my lady." he said, as he bent down and kissed her cheek.
"Yes. Thank you, George." she smiled. Then she looked down to the baby. "Ah, good boy. You rest, my darling. Everything is fine now." she soothed.
"It pleases me to see this." he smiled.
"What does?"
"You and our son right here in this chamber, my lady."
"We are all together. At last." she smiled.
He nodded, then went to summon for a tray for them.
Charlie, the owner and barman, was back at the men's table after a short time. He personally delivered the pitcher of diluted ale, and the tea.
"Alright, men. Your drinks are up." Charlie said, nodding to the tray in his hand. He set the pitcher on the table, then placed mugs in front of each of them. Then, he set the cup of tea down in front of Luke. "And, your lemon and honey tea."
"Cheers." Luke nodded. He picked up the cup and took a few sips of the soothing hot liquid.
"Is that instrument of yours ready to go?" Charlie asked.
"Yes. I checked it. It's in tune." Luke said.
"Good. Hope you are, too, lad. Just let me know when you're ready to go."
"I just need a few moments to sip of this. It will soothe my throat before I begin." Luke explained.
"How shall I introduce you? Since no one is to know your names." Charlie asked.
"Lucas. I had a great aunt once who insisted on calling me that, despite repeated attempts by my mother and me to correct her that it's just plain old Luke. Nothing more. Nothing less." Luke said.
"Alright. Noted. I'll announce you in a few minutes." Charlie said. Then he looked to Ancel. "Did Slayer point out the rebel blokes to you?" he whispered.
"Yes. We have a beat on them." Ancel nodded.
"Good. I'll leave you to it, then." he said. Then, he took leave of them.
Nigel picked up the pitcher and poured into each of the goblets.
"Drink up, lads. Might as well pretend we're here having a bit of merriment." Nigel said.
"I don't think we're meant to be merry. Look at us. We don't look like the merry type." Richard pointed out.
"Indeed." Luke nodded, then sipped more of his tea.
"Whatever. You better get merry, kid. There goes Charlie, headed to the stage. Odd he's got a small stage in here when he made it sound like it's seldom used." Nigel mused.
"What? Already? Ah, fuck." Luke exhaled sharply.
"Jesus, kid. Don't freeze up now!" Nigel huffed.
"Relax, Luke. It will be fine." Ancel said, sipping of his ale.
Then, Charlie's voice was calling out to the crowd gathered.
"Can I have everyone's attention?" Charlie called. "Attention!" he shouted, more forcefully.
"This is it, Drake. I think he's going to introduce Luke." Adam said, softly.
"Wonder how he'll do that? The Sheriff wanted them to be discreet." Drake whispered.
The room began to hush as all eyes were upon the owner.
"We have someone here tonight to entertain you for a few moments." Charlie said.
Some of the denizens started moaning, and booing.
"I know it's not your usual fare, but give the lad a chance. Let's see what he's got. Everyone, welcome Lucas to the stage!" Charlie called out.
Half of the people gathered there began to clap. The rest were reticent, and annoyed by the interruption.
"Lucas?" Adam asked, shaking his head.
"Beats me. We'll have to ask if that's his full given name — once we admit to him we were here." Drake said, while clapping.
"You're up, kid." Nigel said.
"You got this, Luke." Ancel nodded.
"I hope you're right." Luke sighed. He grabbed his gittern and walked toward the stage.
Charlie stepped aside once Luke took the stage. Luke positioned the strap across him over his right shoulder, the gittern in his hands as he looked out to the crowd.
"Good even. How's everyone doing tonight?" Luke called out to them.
Most people started cheering, but a few were booing.
"Better if ye'd go back to your table!" one man shouted.
"Noted. I'll make this quick." Luke said. He began to slowly strum on the gittern. A brief nondescript warm up as he continued. The sound coming from the gittern was nothing at this point.
"This is a little tune I wrote some time ago. This is about what happens to a bunch of bad blokes when they mess with the wrong guy's family." Luke said. Then he began to strum a pleasing quick riff on the strings of his instrument. The melody was beginning. The skill of his fast moving fingers hushed the room even more. Now, he had their attention.
Drake and Adam leaned forward, mesmerized by the ease with which their mate was beginning to command the audience, and the skill he was showing with that funny looking lute he was playing.
"You see, when you mess with the wrong man, you better watch out. You might get struck… by lightning. This tune is called 'Lightning Struck'." Luke called out to them.
His hands were moving rapidly on the strings, his left hand on the neck, his right on the body of the gittern. Then, the right hand somehow started to also tap beats on the wood.
"Christ, he's good with that thing! Can't believe I'm saying this." Nigel said.
"I've never heard anyone play a stringed instrument like that." Richard added.
"Agreed." Ancel nodded.
"Feel free to match my tapping with your hands on the table. Here we go." Luke said.
Then, he began to sing.
"I was lost, foundation blown down to the cracks.
From then I knew, there was no way I could go back"
The crowd were slapping their hands on the tables to match his beats.
"Holy fuck, this is amazing!" Drake called out to Adam.
"He's a bleeding natural, mate!" Adam laughed as he clapped along.
"Faces of strangers, burned to memory." Luke sang.
"Here, Charlie. You're going to need this." Edeva smirked as she gave to him a small wooden bucket to place on the stage. She nodded to the patrons who were starting to approach the stage with coins in their hands to tip Luke.
Charlie grinned as he took it from her, and placed it on the stage. He directed the patrons to place their tips inside of it.
"Holy fuck! People are throwing money at him!" Nigel chuckled.
"I wish there was some kind of way to capture this moment to adequately share this with the Sheriff and the rest of the men." Richard said.
"Indeed. This is quite spectacular. Who knew?" Ancel chuckled.
"There was no choice, no other choice but vengeance to seek." Luke sang out, and continued to tap on the wood of his instrument.
"Then the rain came down,
Steel cut the sound,
Then a white light shone,
In a moment it was gone.
Lightning struck.
They went down when my lightning struck." he sang, then he played on the gittern rousing the crowd, who were eager for him to continue.
At this point, the tall man who was seated with the brotherhood fellows approached the table where the Sheriff's team were seated.
Luke noticed this from the stage, but kept playing.
"So, who is the leader of your crew?" the tall man spoke.
"Crew? What makes you think that?" Ancel asked.
"Do none of you own a bleeding mirror, mate?" the man chuckled, then casually sat in Luke's empty chair. Before he did that he flipped the chair around backwards, straddling it, and leaning his arms over the back of it while he sat.
At this juncture, Drake and Adam were standing, along with many of the tavern denizens, clapping along to the uptempo tune Luke was performing. Drake noticed someone standing in the doorway in his peripheral vision. He picked up on it because of the pleasing colours coming through. He turned his head to get a better look.
Fuck! Oh, no. Not that table! What the hell are you doing? And, why now? Drake exhaled sharply. Then he turned back to observe Luke.
"Who wants to know?" Nigel asked, then sipped of his diluted ale.
"Good evening." Gunilda suddenly appeared, and nodded to the men. Then, she focused on the surprisingly handsome blond fellow seated backwards on the chair. "Are you with the two fellas by the door. About three tables in?"
"Why? Who are you?" he asked, suspiciously.
"Lady Gisela." she said, without missing a beat.
The Sheriff's men stared at her, astonished at what they were seeing.
"Right. And, why do you want to know?"
"I can smell the desperation in the air. Particularly, at your table. It doesn't mix well with the general conviviality currently taking place here." Gunilda smirked.
"Who. The fuck. Are you? Damn!" Nigel softly muttered. He smirked as he regarded the fearless, comely raven haired lady.
Gunilda looked to Nigel and winked, unbeknownst to the tall blond fellow from Father Tuttle's group of rebels.
"Again, lady… what is your interest in my friends?" the man asked, pointedly.
"I wanted to chat with you about that… thing you got going. You know? One of them spoke to my brother about it. He's currently deciding. I mean, if it's that good, perhaps I could join your cause?" Gunilda smiled.
The Sheriff's men stared, their mouths agape. Richard began to choke on his diluted ale. He quickly composed himself.
"Christ. She's going to ruin the whole operation!" Drake muttered when he stole a glance toward his comrades' table.
At this point, Luke was distracted, keeping an eye on their table. Despite observing a possible cult follower sit at their table, Luke also observed Lady Gunilda approach them, yet his playing was on point. He was wondering what the hell was going on when the crowd started intermittently chanting "Lucas!" every few seconds. He looked back at them and smiled.
"So many miles, travelled all alone." Luke sang in a higher register than the first chorus. He gestured to the crowd encouraging them to keep tapping their tables.
"Over the moors, the hills, for years,
I wasn't done." the singing continued.
"I don't know what you're talking about, lady. And, we don't need a lady joining us for anything." the man said with a dismissive wave of his hand.
"I see. My mistake. If you change your mind, I'll just be over there." Gunilda nodded to the gathering of people at the stage, enthusiastically clapping along and participating in the song delivery by performing the background beats on tables. "There's a much better aura coming from there." she said, then she turned and headed to the bar.
She would order a drink and watch more of the performance of the Bard… whom, curiously, looked like Drake's friend, Luke. Gunilda ordered mulberry juice, then waited. She knew that man would have questions. He would find her.
"They never saw it coming,
Sleight of hand and twist of fate.
Gave a good blow, put on a show,
It's never too late." Luke was singing to the crowd.
"LUCAS!" they shouted, repeatedly.
"Drake! Have a look. People are still donating in that tip bucket!" Adam laughed as he clapped along to the tune.
"This is bleeding deadly, mate." Drake grinned, despite his growing concern since his secret paramour just walked through the door and went straight to the Black Knights' table — where a Brotherhood bloke had just seated himself at.
"And they shook at the knees,
Said, 'Mister, if you please',
I said, 'You can't make it right,
Lightning is gonna strike.'
"And that's when
Lightning struck
They bowed when my lightning struck." Luke sang then went back to another solo on his gittern to keep the crowd wanting more.
"Now, why were you asking about talking to a supposed leader of our… supposed crew?" Ancel asked the tall man.
"Indeed. What would we have that interests you?" Nigel asked, his eyebrow raised, suspiciously.
"We might share a… common ambition. You lot look like a bunch of criminals. You're probably trying to lay low — despite your presence here. We can help with that."
"Oh, really?" Ancel said as his eyebrow quirked.
"And they shook at the knees." Luke He sang, then he shouted out to the crowd, "And, what did they say?"
"Said, 'Mister, if you please!" the crowd sang back to him.
"I said, 'You can't make it right,
Lightning is gonna strike.'
Lightning struck
They fell when lightning struck.
They went down when my lightning struck." Luke sang, completing the song.
The crowd went wild, cheering, whistling, and thunderously applauding him.
Luke took a bow, then he started to walk off the stage.
The crowd grew even louder, chanting out, "Lucas!" repeatedly, while clapping and banging on the tables.
He looked to Charlie who nodded for him to continue. Then, Luke went back to take position at centre stage. The crowd cheered.
"If you lot are on You-Know-Who's wanted list, you shall need a better cover than…" the tall blonde rebel began to chuckle while gesturing to them all. "Than whatever the bleeding hell this is supposed to be."
"Right. And, let me guess. You can give it to us. A better cover." Nigel said, folding his muscled arms.
"We got a beef with him, too. We could commiserate and you can decide if you want to… join us." the blond man said.
"Join… what exactly?" Ancel asked, pointedly.
"Indeed. And, what are you planning? Why would you need us?" Nigel asked, narrowing his green eyes, suspiciously.
"That's what we'll confer about." the blond rebel smirked, knowingly.
Ancel looked to Richard and Nigel who both nodded for him to proceed.
"Very well." Ancel nodded.
"Good. Come to our table, men." the man directed as he stood from the chair.
Luke noticed the men rising up from their chairs and following the tall man back to another table. He frowned. That didn't look good. The crowd was eagerly shouting his name. He looked back out to them.
"Alright. I'm going to take it down a notch now." Luke said as he began strumming a softer yet rhythmic medody to start the next song. He strummed a pleasing melody for twenty seconds or so.
Then, he began to sing.
"The wind is howling on this winding path,
Some clown is raging up ahead,
He's killing the silence
Never making sense,
The spirits no doubt went straight to his head." Luke sang.
The crowd clapped along in a rhythmic beat to the song.
"What's going on, Artorus?" the dark haired man at the table asked, nodding to the three men he brought with him.
"I think they might be interested." the tall blond fellow said.
"Do you?" the man scoffed.
"Interested in what?" the third man asked, suspiciously. "What did you tell them?"
"He told us we might be interested in… joining your cause — whatever that is." Nigel said.
"Yeah? And… what cause would that be?" the third man asked.
"He told us you have a beef with the Sheriff, so I'm guessing it has to do with that." Ancel said.
"Fuck, Artorus! Why you running your mouth off here -- of all places!" the third, red haired grumpy man admonished.
"Because they look like they'd… fit in." Artorus, the tall blond fellow said.
"Really? Was it too dark for you to see them where you just came from?" the dark haired man scoffed.
"Look, man. Just forget it. We'll go back to our table and you three can carry on." Ancel said, nodding to Richard and Nigel to follow him. He was bluffing.
"No, that's fine. Sit." the dark haired man said.
"One hundred miles from my starting point,
Me and the ghost of you land here,
I just move along,
So I won't come undone,
Run away from tears." Luke sang, as most of the people gathered in the tavern stood near the stage and clapped along to the tune.
Charlie noticed the Sheriff's men were taken to the table where the supposed rebel blokes were seated. He managed to get Blaise's attention.
Blaise responded immediately.
"What is it, Charlie?" Blaise asked.
"Go switch places with Slayer. I want him inside here." Charlie instructed.
Blaise nodded, then headed toward the door.
"I wonder what happened to the server lady?" Adam said to Drake.
Drake had already noticed Gunilda at the bar.
"I'll go get us more ale, Adam. Stay here." Drake said.
Adam nodded. Drake turned to head over there and make his way through the crowd. He finally found a spot at the bar about five feet away from Gunilda.
She turned to see who had appeared beside her, having no idea it was Drake. The place was too crowded, and the merriment level too high for her to notice his presence, either by sight, or her keen perceptive abilities.
One look into soft brown eyes and she knew to stay where she was, not getting any closer to him.
"Is that… your friend serenading us tonight?" she asked quietly, so she wouldn't be heard by others while nodding to the stage.
"Yes. I'm here with another friend to hear him. He's part of a team Mil — he sent here, my lady. Don't blow it for them. They don't know I'm here with another of his men." he said.
Drake couldn't help but notice how lovely she looked. She wore a brushed velvet silver gown under her emerald green velvet cloak. They shimmered by the light of candles and torches.
A barmaid approached Drake to take his order. He requested two mugs of ale as he placed some coins on the bar. She smiled and went to get the ale.
"One look at them, and I knew they were here for a reason. I'm not obtuse. I could smell the desperation a mile away from the riff raff they're currently engaged with." she said.
"Good. Just so we're clear. Why are you still here since you know they have it handled?" Drake asked, suspiciously.
"I sense the tall blond fellow with the two your comrades went to speak to might come back to me with questions. I fed him some lies to get his wheels turning in that small mind of his." Gunilda admitted, then sipped from her goblet.
"Jesus, what are you doing? You're playing with fire." Drake warned.
"I'm doing… my job." she said, quietly.
"Let the men handle them. They're trained, and they're armed. Ancel has a plan. Luke's part of the plan, too. It just so happens he has the talent to pull off this Bard act of his." Drake said quietly, after looking around him to be certain no one was listening.
"Indeed. He's really very good." Gunilda smirked, then she looked toward the stage.
"Did I just miss
my last chance at happiness?
Was that the only love I'll know?
Was that a demon's kiss,
Or did my pride mislead me?
Back on the path
I've never rode." Luke sang, his eyes closed as he thought of Emma. He'd written this song about her.
"I want you to know… I want to come closer; but, I can't. Five of my comrades are here, my lady." Drake said.
"I know." she smiled.
"Your ale, Sir." the barmaid said as she placed two mugs in front of him.
He thanked her. The barmaid nodded, took the coins he left on the bar, and went to serve another patron.
"It might be best you make haste now while the night is still young, my lady. I can't escort you home. I'm with another of… his men. I don't think he knows of your role." Drake explained.
"Understood." she nodded, then sipped of her mulberry juice.
"Be safe. Are you armed?"
"I am."
"Maybe you should use that… momentary absence thing on the man you just talked to, and the other rebel blokes, to be on the safe side?" Drake suggested as he picked up the two mugs of ale from the bar.
"The which?" Gunilda asked. Then, it came to her. She smirked. "Ah, yes. Momentous absentia. Might be worth a try."
Drake nodded, then headed back to Adam.
After she finished her juice, she heeded his advice. Gunilda used the spell on the rebel fellows, then she took her leave.
The three of the Sheriff's men continued talking with the Brotherhood men. Mostly, Ancel spoke with the rebels as Richard and Nigel looked increasingly astonished as it went on.
Finally, the rebels stood and headed toward the door as Nigel looked suspiciously at Ancel.
"What the fuck was that? Why aren't we arresting them?" Nigel demanded.
"We might be able to obtain more information from them beforehand." Ancel said.
"You know our next meet with them is a trap, Ancel. Surely, you know this?" Richard asked.
"Of course, I do. And, we'll be prepared."
"What? How?" Nigel asked.
"We'll have reinforcements. Milord will come up with a new plan." Ancel said.
"He's going to be irate. He's expecting prisoners!" Nigel spat.
"Hope you got another ace up your sleeve, Ancel. Nigel's right. He's going to be very displeased." Richard sighed.
Luke finished his song to a rousing round of applause and cheers, and then the crowd reluctantly dispersed away from the stage when he gave his apologies, saying he must take leave now. He exited the stage and went over to the table to join the men.
"What happened? Where the hell did they go?" Luke asked, curiously.
"He let them go!" Nigel spat.
"What? Who?" Luke asked.
"We have another meeting booked with them on the morrow at the same time. Here." Ancel announced.
"Wait. What?" Luke asked, again, slowly shaking his head.
"I think the plan is to meet us here, then continue the meeting at a different location. They're going to get down to busin — " Ancel started to explain, but was cut off.
"Yeah, they'll get down to business, alright. It's a trap. It's a bleeding set-up!" Richard exclaimed.
"It'll be a fucking ambush, Richard. Let's just face it." Nigel muttered.
"And… why are we agreeing to this load of bollocks?" Luke asked.
"Even the kid agrees with us!" Nigel scoffed.
"We're going to tell Milord all about this, and he'll make a new plan." Ancel said.
"He expects prisoners, Ancel. Let's go after them. This is rubbish! They can answer questions in the dungeon." Luke said, urgently.
"We can get more information from them while they think we're just ordinary blokes — "
"Ordinary? That Artorus bloke is convinced we're a bunch of criminals topping Milord's wanted list! Did you not hear him, or was I dreaming that while drinking the diluted ale piss you ordered for us?" Nigel sighed, shaking his head.
"The point is, they don't know we're Black Knights. They think we're Aleyn, Noah, and Walter — "
"The hell did you pick "Walter" for?" Nigel asked Richard. "You no more look like a "Walter" than I look like an "Osgoode", mate." Nigel chuckled.
"It was the first thing that came to me. My Uncle Walter was great fun." Richard shrugged.
"Whatever. The point is they think we're Aleyn, Noah, and Walter who came here with their mate, Lucas, the Bard." Ancel said, then looked to Luke. "Because, you were one hundred percent right, mate. No one ever heard of a musically inclined Knight." he said with a knowing quirk of his brow.
"Hmm. When you put it that way, it starts to make sense… sort of." Luke shrugged.
"Don't let him convince you of whatever fuckery this is, kid. Let's get back to how we're going to deal with the Sheriff's ire." Nigel said, exhaling sharply.
"It'll be fine, Nigel. If he's angry I'll take the blame. Once I explain it to him — " Ancel began, but was cut off.
"His head will explode. Then, he'll put it back together, and organize a ceremonious neck stretching for the lot of us!" Richard exclaimed.
"He won't. You two need to calm down." Ancel sighed.
"We've worked for him a hell of lot longer than you have. You've no idea what we've witnessed." a beat. "You're being too relaxed about this." Nigel argued.
Just then, Charlie approached the table holding a large leather sack.
"Your tips, lad. Edeva and I took them from the bucket and put it all in here." Charlie said, then passed it to Luke.
"You should take it. Use it for running your tavern." Luke suggested.
"I'm doing well here, lad. Don't you worry about me. You earned it." Charlie insisted.
"Thank you." Luke said, as he took it from him.
"People are already asking when you're coming back. Anytime you feel like entertaining us, drinks are on me, lad." Charlie smiled.
"Cheers, Charlie." Luke nodded.
"If you weren't currently occupied with your role at the castle, I'd be hiring you right now. I've never seen the crowd react like that, Luke. Not even with the Medley Brothers." Charlie smirked.
"I appreciate that, Charlie." Luke smiled.
Charlie looked to Ancel.
"What happened to the rebel blokes?" Charlie asked, curiously.
"They want to meet with us again. Same time, same place. On the morrow. I hope that will be agreeable with you?" Ancel asked.
"It's fine. Just try to keep the bloodshed down to a minimum." Charlie said.
"We're meeting them here, but we think they're going to lead us to another location. Unless one of them tries to start trouble, there will be no bloodshed here, Charlie." Ancel said.
"Good. I'll see you lads then." Charlie nodded, then took his leave.
"Well, at least one good thing came out of this. The kid got a bag full of money, and Charlie wants him to come back and serenade the patrons again. I'd laugh since it's so amusing, but I'm too concerned how our employer is going to react." Nigel sighed, giving a knowing look to Ancel.
"Indeed. Pardon the pun, but it's best we go and… face the music." Ancel said, rising from his chair.
The four left their table, and had a quick word with Slayer. They told him of the plan for the following night, so he could be prepared. Then, they bid him goodnight and headed out the door toward where their horses were secured.
Ancel was confident that once he explained his reasoning to the Sheriff that he would agree with this plan. Still, the cautionary words of Richard and Nigel wouldn't leave him. Particularly, Richard talking about "ceremonious neck stretching". He dearly hoped they were wrong in their assumptions of the Sheriff's reaction to this.
