On Saturday morning, October 25th, the weather was unusually mild. Birds were heard chirping, and the autumn breezes flowed fresh and warm through the windows of the Council Quarters at Nottingham Castle.
The Sheriff was already seated casually on a random chair at the large table. He was looking to his right upon the table, his right arm resting upon it and poised over notes with a quill in hand. He was seated sideways, parallel to the table, with his left knee raised, resting his shiny black leather boot on the chair in front of him, casually resting his left arm on his knee. He put the quill down, then reached for the goblet beside him and took a sip of water. There was much to be accomplished this morning. He hoped his men heeded his advice and rested. They needed to come up with a new plan, and he wanted input from all of his men involved in the search and capture mission of Homely Hamon.
Nottingham added a few more notes, points he wanted to raise at the meeting. He finished, rested the quill beside the ink jar and began to proofread his notes. It was then Guy was the first to arrive. For, they had some time before the mid morning meeting that was scheduled shortly with the Captain, and select members of the Black Knights.
Nottingham was glad that Guy appeared ahead of the rest of the men. He had some matters to discuss with Guy, which he couldn't disclose to anyone else.
"Good day, Cousin." Gisborne greeted him as he strolled into the room, closing the door behind him.
The Sheriff nodded in acknowledgement before he began.
"I'm glad you're here first, Guy. There's some things I need to know." the Sheriff said.
"Oh?" Guy asked as he moved in closer, narrowing his dark, steely eyes.
"Yes. Bear with me. What does your wife know of our family?" the Sheriff blurted, as he set down the goblet and stood, facing him.
"Well, not much, truthfully. I mean, what is there to tell? You're the only family I've ever really known." Guy shrugged.
"Has she asked about them?" the Sheriff pressed further as he walked closer toward his cousin.
"Yes. Once." Guy replied, as he clasped his hands in front of him.
"Really. Just once." a beat. "One and done. Just like that. You must be jesting?" Nottingham shook his head.
"Yes, really. And not a joke, Cousin. She asked me once a couple of years ago. I told her what I knew, what was passed down to me. It was like I was speaking of total strangers, frankly." Guy said.
"My sentiments exactly, Cousin. Hmm. And she's seriously never raised the topic again to you since?" Nottingham asked again.
"Yes, that is correct. Absolutely. Probably because she knows I can't answer with any specifics." Guy said. He paused a moment, then asked, "Has someone been asking you about the family, George?"
"Yes. Lady Rhiannon was asking very pointed questions. Even about your parents." he remarked with a knowing look.
"You can't be serious? Why would she need to know about mine — especially him?" Gisborne asked with his eyebrow raised.
"That's what I'd like to know, Gis." Nottingham sighed. "She had questions about names, their appearance; about your parents, and my mother — oddly."
"That is strange. I can't begin to imagine why she'd care — about my parents, and especially the fake father." Guy said, shaking his head.
"She kept asking about aunts and uncles, too, but, she circled around to your father a few times." the Sheriff said.
"What? That doesn't make sense. Of all the people in the family! He was never part of our family, even though the bastard outlived them. I only saw him once in my adult life. As you know, that was a total waste of time." Guy spat.
"Indeed, Cousin. I don't know what's got into her, and why the sudden interest in our family." Nottingham said.
"Indeed. What was the context, Cousin? How did this even come up?" Guy asked.
"She was asking me about names for our child, suggesting given names of deceased relatives. I told her I wasn't ready for that." a beat. "We still have a nameless one who is nearly half a year old." Nottingham sighed. "It seemed like she was trying to lead me somewhere, but, damned if I know where she was going with this. After awhile it felt like the reason she gave for asking was… off the mark."
"Aye, It does raise suspicion a little. Those are very direct questions. Why the question about aunts and uncles? We're all we've got, Cousin." Guy said.
"Exactly. There is no one but us." the Sheriff said with a shake of his head.
"What if you tried to question her what her true reason for asking was? Do you think she'd tell you?" Guy suggested.
"I'm not sure, but, I'm paying attention. Something is definitely off here. I just needed confirmation that something wasn't right with the variety of questions she had for me. I'm not buying the story of names for our infant on the way." the Sheriff said. He sighed and walked over to the window for a moment.
"Perhaps she's worried that our family is going to pass some strange defect on to the child, Cousin? Maybe it's something innocent like that?" Guy mused.
"No, I don't think it's related to that." Nottingham said as he turned around to face his cousin.
Beams of sunlight coming through the window lit up his shiny, raven waves, and softened his countenance. He wasn't certain If it was the warm breeze wafting through the window, or something else causing him to feel a momentary surge of heat.
"As I mentioned, I don't believe her questions had anything to do with the child at all. Just a gut feeling I have. You know how I always trust my gut, Gis?" the Sheriff said knowingly with a quirk of his brow.
"Aye. I know this, Cousin." Guy nodded.
"Right then. Next topic." the Sheriff sighed.
He headed back to the table. He picked up the goblet of water, took a sip, then turned back around to face Guy. He set the goblet on the table then rested his hands upon it leaning against it.
"You recall the consort who poisoned me, Gis?" Nottingham asked.
"Yes. Did she finally return from wherever she went off to? I'm assuming she must have left, because this is a matter you wouldn't ignore." Gisborne said.
"Yes, you're correct on both counts. It has been revealed to me she's trying to trick me again, Cousin — by taking a baby from her pregnant relative and trying to pass it off as mine." Nottingham said with a frown. He straightened and folded his arms.
"Come again, George? What?" Guy asked, incredulously.
"I believe it." Nottingham said.
"Mortianna." Guy said softly.
"Yes, Cousin. And everything the witch said makes sense, and matches some of the information I've gathered while questioning the Madam and some of the consorts at the brothel." the Sheriff said.
"Why? What is her motive? Your wealth, Cousin?" Guy asked, still a bit astonished at this new revelation. He paused a moment then added, "I'm aware that seems a stupid question, but, she must know there's no way in God's Hell you could be seen publicly with her?"
"Indeed, Gis. No. It's not entirely about that, though, I'm sure it plays a part. It's worse in a way. It's some form of lunacy from what Mortianna explained, but, it's so strange it's almost indescribable." the Sheriff said.
"Try me." Guy said.
"Something to do with an obsession— with me. And a fantasy of living happily ever after that includes me and the child that isn't hers." Nottingham said, rolling his eyes.
"Uhm… okay, and just how does she think she'd achieve that, I wonder? The heralds announced your upcoming nuptials awhile ago, George. Honestly, this woman sounds delusional." Guy opined.
"That, I do not know. Mortianna didn't say. It sounds a bit ominous, though, don't you think?" Nottingham asked with his left eyebrow raised, knowingly.
"Hmm. Right. It actually sounds like this one needs to be wrapped up, Cousin — with a shiny, neat ribbon." Gisborne said knowingly, raising his brow.
"You surprise me, Gis. You're the one who often attemps to dissuade me from causing mortal harm — as with Hector, and Hestia. Now, you're saying I should eliminate her. Just like that." the Sheriff said with a snap of his fingers, rather astonished at his cousin's comment.
"Aye. She sounds rather unhinged, and frankly, a danger to the Villagers. She's taking someone else's infant! She poisoned you already, and now she's trying to destroy your life like a Minotaur. She can't be trusted, she's dangerous, and it sounds like she's beyond reasoning. Her crimes lawfully warrant execution. You'd be right to do so." Guy explained.
"What if I sentenced her to exile?" the Sheriff asked.
"She sounds like a liability, truthfully. You've always told me we eliminate all doubt. She is doubt, Cousin." Guy warned with a knowing glance.
"I don't want a public execution. It needs to be done quietly. And then, I wondered if I could just banish her somewhere." Nottingham said.
"Would she be missed?" Guy asked, pointedly.
"Yes, and that's just one of the problems that could arise from her demise. She was recently visiting her family. There has been some bloke — a Lord something or other whom I highly doubt is one, who keeps asking after her at the brothel. She's got friends at the brothel; and… she's also got a witch friend, it turns out." the Sheriff replied.
"Alas, then it must be private. Away from the brothel, and the Village, ideally." Guy said.
"Indeed. It's appearing that way." Nottingham sighed.
"Would you like me to take care of it, Cousin?" Guy asked.
"I appreciate it, but, no. I got it, Guy. It has to be me." the Sheriff stated.
"Understood." Guy nodded. "How will you do it?" he asked, curiously.
"I'm thinking on it. I want it to be swift." Nottingham said with his eyebrow quirked.
Gisborne nodded. "Makes sense, George. The quicker the better."
"The quicker and cleaner the better." the Sheriff hinted.
He could still hear Mortianna's voice telling him about foxglove: "It is different than most other poisons, Milord. There is no pain, no inability to move. Everything just… slows down -- until it stops altogether. She may feel faint, weakened, she'll become sleepy, and then… it shall all be over."
Guy looked at him curiously; and just then the sentry announced the arrival of the Scribe, who would be documenting the meeting, the Captain, and the select Black Knights who were working on the search mission.
The Sheriff and his Lieutenant greeted the men, and they soon assembled around the table. There was much chatter taking place initially, until the Sheriff, who was seated at the head of the table with Guy to his right, and Duke Farnsworth on his left, called the meeting to order.
"Good day, men. I hope you're all rested and ready to participate. The servants shall be here shortly with some soft ale and pastries; and we'll be putting our heads together to come up with a solid plan." the Sheriff announced.
"I think I speak for most of the men by saying there's some surprise that we're not continuing our search efforts today, Milord." Mordrid said.
"Yes. Well, that's not working so far, so we're stepping back. We need to lure him out of hiding." the Sheriff said.
"It makes sense to me, Milord. We lull him into a false sense of security. He may think you've decided he's not worth the trouble, and then he will make his presence known somehow. He still has a plan to execute, after all." Ancel said with a knowing look of his grey eyes.
"Correct, Ancel. This is exactly the strategy and the effect I'm hoping for." the Sheriff nodded. He looked to the rest of the men. "For those of you who haven't been introduced, I present Ancel Ward, our newest recruit to the Black Knights. He was the only good that came from our search efforts this past week, and he officially became a member on Thursday. He has skills in investigative techniques and is the newest Investigator on the team." the Sheriff said as he gestured toward Ancel.
At this announcement, the men collectively congratulated Ancel. After a few moments, order was called once more.
"My Lord, I think most of us are wondering when you'd like us to resume the search?" Duke Farnsworth asked.
"I don't think we should put that abandoned manor that Ancel took us to out of our minds just yet." Mordrid said from across the table to the Sheriff. He was seated at the other end of the table, with Luke and Ancel on either side of him.
"Yes, I agree." Ancel said.
"I concur." Luke nodded.
"Right now we're going to step back, men. I think you're right about the abandoned home, Mordrid. However, we're going to sit tight until Monday, and that's when you and Ancel will be sent back to that manor. We'll have some reinforcements stationed nearby, as well." Nottingham said.
"What about the forest, my Lord Sheriff? Should we continue to look in there, as well, since the man we're after and Ancel were bunking there for a time?" Adam asked.
"Yes. Good point, Adam. I want your groups split up. Some will be looking in the Village. Some will be looking through the forest. Just stick to the area surrounding Hood's former camp." the Sheriff said.
"Alright. So, we'll be resuming the search efforts on Monday then?" Guy looked left to ask his cousin.
"No. I propose we'll do the full scale search on Tuesday. On Monday, we concentrate on the abandoned manor." the Sheriff said.
"With respect, don't you think we're giving him too much time by not starting the full search until Tuesday, my lord?" Luke asked.
"Not necessarily, Luke. That depends on the resources he has, which I doubt amounts to very much." the Sheriff replied. He looked to Ancel. "Can you confirm where he stands on that, Ancel?"
"He has some money to last him, my lord. He also has a horse. He's not the best huntsman, though. He's going to need food to sustain him, and a place to plan his next moves." Ancel said.
"Are you saying the forest is the least likely place he would be then — since he can't hunt worth a damn?" the Sheriff asked with a quirk of his left eyebrow.
"Not necessarily, my lord. At least not for now, anyway. I did the majority of the hunting before I was brought to you. There's a good lot of rabbit kill and a couple of chickens available to him inside of Locksley's Larder." Ancel said.
"I see." the Sheriff nodded.
"Of course it's less likely he'd be in the forest, Ancel. It's freezing there at night now, and not much better in the daylight." Alex piped in.
"That's funny. I didn't see any chickens hanging in there on Wednesday, Ancel." Luke remarked.
"They were in there. There were only two. The rest were rabbits." Ancel said.
Alex sighed and rolled his brown eyes, irritated that his comment was completely ignored.
"I wonder if he consumed them then?" Luke mused.
"Hard to say. The wood ash in the fire pit was cold on Thursday." Ancel shrugged.
"Let's not venture too far off topic, lads." Gisborne reminded them. "It doesn't matter so much what variety of meat he has in the Larder, just that's it's there for him. If he's inept with hunting, all that matters is he has a food source there if he decides to bunk at that camp again." he added.
"Indeed. And he has to know somehow that we've been looking for him. Many have been questioned, and people talk. I can't see him strolling into the tavern, or any of the rooming houses, looking for a meal, for instance." Mordrid said.
"Yes, the homeowners of the rooming houses, and the owner and staff at the tavern were questioned by me, and Alex questioned the Madam at the brothel." Luke agreed.
"Yes, That is correct." Alex said with a nod. "I still say he would try accessing those places. It's coming close to mid autumn. If he's inept at hunting he's going to fail at building a fire — I can one hundred percent assure you. He could disguise himself somehow." he warned.
"Alex, the man could disguise himself all he wants; he could put a sack over his head and he's still going to look like a tree stump." Adam said.
Gerad and Alex began to chortle, and the rest of them who had seen Hamon, including the Sheriff, and his Lieutenant, concealed theirs.
"And while you lads were questioning the rooming houses, tavern, and brothel, our team was questioning regular homeowners. We even looked through Matheus Busby's barn and fields." Adam added as he looked to Luke and Alex.
"That is correct, Adam. And we came up empty." Duke Farnsworth said. Then he looked to his right toward the Sheriff and to Guy. "So, it's looking like if he wants to stay close to carry out his plan, he'll return to the forest to at least grab the kill."
"Yes, it's definitely appearing that way." the Sheriff nodded.
"Agreed. He might even grab the kill and take it to the abandoned manor." Ancel said.
"He'd be a fool to camp out in the forest solo." Gerad said. "Especially during this time of year. Alex is right about that."
"Yes, you would think." Alex agreed.
Just then the sentry stationed just outside the door announced the arrival of the servants. The Sheriff gestured for him to let them in, and the servants brought in trays of various croissants, and fruit filled pastries, as well as soft ale and juice for the men.
At this point, Lady Rhiannon was just arriving to the same place in the wooded area far in back of the castle. She was pleased she didn't need to wear her cape, though she brought it anyway. She was wearing a wool and cotton blend gown in a medium shade of orange; her hair tied back in a decorative braid, fastened with a ribbon in a shade to match her gown. She carried the large book about Erec and Enide with Lady Aelesia's journal tucked safely inside of it. Her plan was to peruse it when she took a break from target practice. She set the cape, the flask of water, and her book down on the ground, gathered the bow and arrows that were safely tucked under a mound of dead leaves under some bushes, along with the stuffed man, and set to work.
It took her some time, and eventually she was able to hit the target at twenty five yards. It didn't quite hit the center of the stuffed man's chest, but, she was still pleased with her progress.
She put the weapons against a tree, and seated herself beside it, upon her cape which she had spread out. She patted her face with the handkerchief, then took a drink of water from her flask. Next, Rhiannon picked up the book, opened it, as well as the journal inside, and thumbed through a few pages. She glanced over them quickly and found nothing of interest mentioned. Nothing exciting until:
"Friday, December 28th, 1156;
It's nearing the end of this year. I pray next year brings me a son."
Lady Rhiannon smiled. "Your wish was granted, Lady Aelesia; and he has evolved into quite a man. I wish you could see him. I love him so…
She sighed, took another sip of water from her flask, then resumed reading.
"Everything outside of this castle is blanketed in white. The trees and flowers are dead now. The ground is white; as is the sky, from the falling snow these last two days. It looks like a shroud covering everything in a veil of death. I look forward to spring, when the world awakens from the winter slumber, and everything comes to life again.
The only good in winter is the Yule season. A time for family, festivities, and merriment. Giles hosted a marvellous Yule feast on Tuesday. Both of our parents were there, Giles' brother and his wife, Evie and her betrothed, Osric… "
And there it was. So, Guy's father was, indeed, the man mentioned by Lady Aelesia in the December 20th entry. It had to be him. Whom else would the man be who was described by the lady just eight days prior to this entry? Rhiannon shrugged then looked back to the journal.
"… as well as Aunt Mortianna. The food was delicious, and the wine was pleasing and ever flowing. A bitter, cold wind was attempting to thwart our gathering, but the burning torches and myriad candles placed around the room held fast and kept us warm.
I couldn't help but notice Master Osric eyeing me in the most salacious of ways.I felt like he was using his amber eyes to burn through my gown to see me -- in my natural state! I was both horrified, and… mildly aroused at that.
Later, asEvie was conversing with our mother, and the other women present; and Giles was engaged in a discussion with the men, there was an unexpected moment I had alone with Master Osric.
He said the strangest things to me. I should have slapped him, with respect to my sister. Instead, he lulled me into some strange bewitchment. I'd swear he was a sorcerer, the way he drew me in.
He asked me if I was attending the festivities planned for Monday night as we usher in the new year. I told him I would be in attendance. He asked what I would be wearing, telling me it would "be a shame to cover up too much." I asked what he meant and he just looked at me in that way again. A devilish grin. Then, he grabbed my hand and kissed it.
Why didn't I break free of his grasp then? I should have told Giles right then. I should have informed Evie… but, how?Osric asked for her hand on Tuesday. She would be tremendously affected by his brazen behaviour. I'm at a loss as to how to proceed with this."
Rhiannon closed the book and looked ahead of her to the castle. She was stunned. Osric was attempting to charm and seduce Lady Aelesia!
Did he succeed in this? Will Lady Aelesia mention this in any way? Oh, I wish I could stop reading these notes, but she's pulling me in and has me riveted.
Rhiannon sighed, then stood. She resumed her target practice, gradually increasing the distance with each successful attempt. A successful attempt in her mind was when she hit the stuffed man dead center five times consecutively.
Mistress Floria, the newest, and perhaps most overconfident of the courtesans at Madam Birghiva's brothel, was feeling a bit out of sorts. She sat in an overstuffed, whisper pink velvet chair at the window, gazing outside taking a moment to ponder a problem before she would venture outdoors to enjoy the unusually balmy weather this late October day.
Mistress Floria had become privy to some distressing news that pertained to the Sheriff of Nottingham. She needed to speak to him, and she would this very day. She was debating about how much to divulge to Madam Birghiva, and whether she should see the Sheriff on her own, and then tell the Madam, or, should she report the matter to the Madam first?
She sighed, then sipped of her cup of warmed mead with extra honey added. She wasn't as worldly as the older courtesans at the brothel, but, she was astute. She could tell when things were off. She only chose this occupation as a means to an end. The money was good and she needed it as she had nowhere to go. She was saving as much as possible, and making her own clothes. She did her own sewing for two reasons: she enjoyed it, and it was effective toward money saving.
Yes, something was definitely off. It was strange remarks Celestria made to Floria when they both stopped to powder their faces in front of a large mirror on the second floor, at the same time. The incident happened just an hour prior. Floria had been pondering the matter since.
Floria arrived to the powder room a minute or two after Celestria. She noticed Celestria was applying a paste to her skin, which left her skin reddened. She ailso noticed Mistress Celestria was trying not to heave while drinking what appeared to be water.
Floria commented a couple of points about what she observed. This resulted in some very strange banter from Mistress Celestria. It was during this brief encounter that Floria learned a few things she didn't know about the Sheriff of Nottingham. One of which was the fact he is to be wed in just over a fortnight.
Floria had a bad feeling. She needed to make haste to whichever castle that attractive old guy who claims to be the Sheriff of the county lives in, and tell him everything as she observed and heard it. Yes, she thought him a bore, and had previous to today wondered if he had something wrong with his manhood? Or, did he fancy men? She'd met a few regulars who did, and her thoughts about it amounted to: that was their business. But, now she knew why the Sheriff resisted her. She genuinely hoped that one day she'd meet a faithful man like him.
Floria arose from her chair. She grabbed her silver, brushed velvet cape lined in pale pink satin, threw it on and fastened it hastily. Next she grabbed the matching drawstring bag she made to go with it, and headed downstairs to speak to the Madam at once.
She found Madam Birghiva at the table in the room designated as the Office. The door was ajar, but she knocked, notwithstanding.
The Madam gestured for the Mistress to enter.
"Yes, Floria. What is it?" Madam Birghiva asked.
"I need to speak with you, Madam. It's vitally important and cannot wait." Floria said.
"Very well." the Madam remarked as her eyebrow quirked.
Floria closed the door then continued. She turned to face Madam Birghiva.
"Madam, I have some distressing news that must be shared with the Sheriff of Nottingham." Floria announced.
"Yes. I'm sure you do." the Madam commented wryly. She shook her head and sighed.
Mistress Floria looked at her strangely.
"You'll try anything to get him to come to you. What is it with you gals, anyway? Do you know he is nearly old enough to be your grandsire?" Madam Birghiva retorted, shaking her head. She arose from her seat and walked around the table to face her newest consort.
"You implied there were more than one of us attracted to him. Let me guess — Celestria." Floria stated.
"What do you know of her? And why did you use past tense?" Madam Birghiva asked, curiously.
"So… you know." Floria said.
"Yes. Some. Why don't you tell me what you know, and we'll compare notes?" the Madam suggested.
"There isn't much time for comparisons, Madam. After I tell you, I must speak to him straightway. You can decide if you should accompany me." Floria said.
"Two things about that: one, I will be accompanying you; no ifs, ands, or buts. And two, you cannot go to the castle dressed like that." a beat. "Rule number one in this business is don't get close to the clients. Rule number two is discretion. Part of discretion is the understanding it's not seemly for us to be seen with nobility. Don't get me wrong, your cape is darling, Missy. The problem is it's far too pretty and stands out."
"I thought it was quite demure, myself." Floria shrugged.
"Oh, it is. It's eye catching. That's the problem, my dear. We don't want to be noticed by anyone at the castle when we request an audience with him. The Sheriff must maintain decorum. His conduct is highly scrutinized." Madam Birghiva said.
"Oh. I see." Floria said, weakly.
"Is that the project you were working on when you arrived here a month ago?" the Madam digressed, gesturing to the cape and matching bag.
"Indeed, Madam." Floria replied.
"Exquisite." Madam Birghiva smiled. She reached behind her to the table to grab her goblet, took a sip of mulberry juice then got back to business. "Alright, Missy. Tell me what you know that is so important you feel the need to speak to the Sheriff directly."
Floria revealed everything she observed. She decided just before leaving her chambers she had no choice but to speak to the Madam before venturing to the Sheriff's castle. She'd only been employed by the Madam a little over a month. She couldn't leave this place, even though she couldn't wait to leave it in the dust; but, she was going to have to endure it for the sake of her wages. Those wages were needed for her future.
If she went to see the Sheriff without first reporting to Madam Birghiva, she feared retribution, especially possible loss of her employment at the brothel. Floria couldn't have that. Not only were the wages good, but, Madam Birghiva looked after her girls. Besides that, Celestria was no friend to Floria. Floria was barely acquainted with her.
At the end of it, Floria sighed then looked downcast.
Madam Birghiva set the goblet on the table. She fixed her amber eyes on Floria's before responding.
"You're correct, Missy. We must request a meeting with the Sheriff at once. Ideally, we should be dragging Celestria by her ears to accompany us, but, I'm going to leave the arresting part of it to him. Not a word to any of the girls! Are we clear?" the Madam said firmly, with her eyebrow quirked.
"Yes, Madam." Floria nodded.
"Come, child. Let me help you get sorted with more appropriate attire." the Madam smiled, pleased with the change in the Mistress' conduct since disrespecting the Sheriff — quite brazenly, just yesterday.
Back at the meeting in the Council Quarters of Nottingham Castle, the men had finished with a brief break. They resumed discussion, still nibbling on what was left of their pastries.
"So, gentlemen, are we clear on the directives regarding the next steps?" the Sheriff asked them collectively.
All of them nodded in agreement.
"If only there were a way we could better describe whom we're looking for to the townspeople. It's true he's quite… striking looking, but, I wonder if his appearance could lead to him going unnoticed, as well?" Luke suggested.
Duke Farnsworth looked to his right and gave a knowing look to the Sheriff. The Sheriff knew exactly what the Duke was hinting at.
"Actually, there is a way, but, that's going to involve a quick trip out of town." the Sheriff said.
"Richard… " Guy said.
The Sheriff nodded to his Lieutenant as he took a sip of water from his goblet.
"Do you mean the Richard we know, as in Officer Richard? Or, another Richard altogether?" Adam asked.
"The one and only." the Sheriff said with a smirk.
"I'm… so confused." Alex said, scratching his head.
"Me too. I don't think I've met this Richard fellow?" Luke said, shaking his head.
"You saw him, Luke, but, you weren't introduced. He was with us when we all returned from our mission in the north. We had the couple in custody who were charged with kidnapping. You were manning the portcullis that day with Adam and Drake." Duke Farnsworth confirmed.
"Yes, that's correct." Adam nodded. He looked towards Luke and added, "Richard was present that day, mate."
"Alright. It doesn't change the confusion level, though. What does this Richard fellow have to do with anything relating to my original point? It's feeling like I'm in the middle of a riddle — pardon me for rhyming; and I'm not being funny about it." Luke asked with a bewildered expression coming through his blue green eyes, while shaking his head.
At this last bit, Adam covered his mouth to stifle a chuckle. Gerad and Alex burst into uproarious laughter; and Ancel, and Mordrid smirked.
It took a second or two for the Sheriff and his top men to catch on, but, they concealed their knowing grins as they knew exactly what the joke was about.
"Alright. I'm not being funny, but, what seems to be the joke here?" a beat. "With due respect, of course." Luke sighed, his sparse moustache turned down in a frown.
"It's nothing, mate." Adam said, this time having difficulty concealing a chuckle.
"He's wrong." Gerad said to Luke while nodding toward Adam. "It's something, alright. But, it's not a bad thing." his piercing blue eyes twinkled while he smiled. He took a sip of the soft ale from his mug in an effort to keep from laughing.
"It's the way you say that. You're the only one who frequently uses that phrase, and — " Mordrid was cut off.
"It gets funnier every time you say it!" Alex began laughing again.
"I'm not being funny, but, you lads are missing the point." Luke said with a shake of his head and a sigh.
"Touché." Gerad said.
"Alright, lads, we get it. You're all correct. Luke has his own endearing language, and he is right — we have digressed way off of today's agenda. Save the jokes for later, but, do pay attention now." Nottingham instructed his men.
After a pause where he looked at each of them, he turned his attention to Luke. "Luke, do you remember the proclamations that were posted everywhere with sketches of the wanted couple on them?" Nottingham asked him.
"Yes, Milord. I thought it was a nice touch and very effective that their likenesses were drawn for those." Luke nodded.
"Yes. It was the reason the couple were found. Officer Richard has often drawn maps for us. It was discovered on that mission in the north that he can draw just about anything. He is an artist." the Sheriff said.
"But, if the men were searching for the couple, how did Richard draw them?" Luke asked.
"Mordrid and I had met with them, and we didn't find out they were the ones responsible until days later. I described them to Richard, and he accurately sketched them based off of my description. I sent the sketches and a letter to the Sheriff with a messenger." the Captain said.
Luke quirked his brow over his blue green eyes.
"Yes, and I had them reproduced in mass quantities by two local artists, and that's how those proclamations came to pass." the Sheriff said.
"Yes, and they yielded good results." Guy added.
"Indeed, Guy. Rather serendipitous results, as it turned out." the Sheriff nodded with a smile.
"Indeed, Cousin." Guy smiled.
"So, one of us should head to… wherever then, and meet with Richard, I'm guessing?" Luke queried.
"Yes. I think that's a very good plan." the Sheriff agreed.
"Hmm… which one, though?" Alex asked.
"I'd wager the man who knows the bloke the best." Gerad added, taking a bite of his apple and cinnamon filled pastry.
At this comment, everyone looked down the table at Ancel, the newest recruit to the Black Knights.
"Really?… Me?" Ancel asked. "There's some of you present who have also seen Hamon. You, Milord Sheriff. Sir Gisborne. Luke. Adam." he suggested as he nodded to each of them, in order.
"Yes, that's true, Ancel. But, you've known the man for two years. You would know and remember details that we might not. It could be a mole placement, a scar, a crooked nose. You get it now, I'm sure?" the Sheriff asked.
"Aye, Milord. I do now. Yes." Ancel nodded.
"Are you going to have proclamations drawn up again, Milord?" Mordrid asked.
"Not at this time. The drawings can be shown to those questioned in the Village." the Sheriff said.
"How soon would you like me to depart for wherever Richard is, Milord? And, if someone could direct me to Richard's exact location, that would be grand." Ancel said.
"I will be accompanying you, Ancel. There's someone I need to see there. I'll leave you and Richard to it while I pay a visit." the Sheriff said.
"Very well, Milord Sheriff." Ancel nodded.
"Just be prepared. I'll let you know when we will depart. You'll be sleeping in the same quarters tonight, and the next night… that room is yours, for now. If you need to wind down, you've a place to do it." Nottingham said.
"Indeed. Thank you, Milord." Ancel nodded.
Nottingham looked to his Scribe, who was seated to the right of Guy.
"Are you satisfied you have everything that was mentioned, noted for our records, Scribe?" Nottingham asked. He placed his elbows on the table in front of him, resting his chin upon the backs of his hands for a moment.
"Yes, Milord Sheriff. Everything mentioned today is documented." the Scribe nodded in obeisance.
"Good. Just give me a quick summary then. From the top." the Sheriff said unblinking, as he fixed his eyes on the Scribe.
"Right." the Scribe said. He looked to his notes and began to read. "Officer Mordrid, and then Duke Farnsworth expressed surprise at the halt in the search mission, and questioned when it would resume. You declared the men were taking a break, which is strategically planned, until Monday. Ancel was introduced and welcomed into the Black Knights. Next, you appointed Officer Mordrid and Ancel to go to the abandoned manor in the village on Monday, with back-up. You then said the full search will resume on — " the old man was interrupted.
"Thank you, Scribe. That will be all. I shall read the rest." Nottingham said with his palm facing the man.
"For those of us who won't be assigned as back-up for Mordrid and Ancel on Monday, what would you have us do, Milord?" Gerad asked.
"You shall be off duty — with the caveat that you could be called to serve at any time." Nottingham replied, then he addressed the rest of the men. "You know you have rooms to stay in since you're heavily involved in a high priority assignment?" he reminded his men.
His men nodded an affirmative.
"Good. All of you are free now. The meeting is adjourned." the Sheriff said. Then he looked to Gisborne and said, "You shall be in charge when I take Ancel to meet Richard."
"As you wish." Guy nodded.
The men departed and Guy stayed a moment to speak with the Sheriff.
"You sure you want to be taking Ancel to my manor in Nettlestone, Cousin? You're not bothered about him finding out about your son?" Guy asked.
"He's not going to find out about my son. Not yet. Not today." the Sheriff said with his eyebrow quirked.
"He hasn't even been confirmed for legitimacy yet." Guy added.
"No, but he will be. I've already sent a message to the Sheriff of Hampshire. I did that very soon after hiring Ancel, on Thursday." the Sheriff said.
"That's good to hear, Cousin." Guy said.
"Of course. I can't just take his word for it, even though he's appeared truthful thus far. I want to hear from the Sheriff of that county about Ancel's work record. I need to be absolutely certain." Nottingham said.
He went over to the door and opened it. Then he spoke to the sentry posted there.
"Tell the servants to get the dishes and food out of here at once." the Sheriff instructed.
The guard nodded and carried out the task. Just as the Sheriff was about to close the door again, the Page appeared.
"What do you want?" Nottingham asked.
"There's a woman here to see you, Milord. The same one as yesterday. She brought another young maiden with her. They say it's important they speak with you." the Page said.
"Madam Birghiva." the Sheriff said.
"Aye, Milord. That's the one." the Page said.
"Right. Send them in." he nodded.
"I'll leave you to this meeting, Cousin." Guy said, as he made his way toward the door.
The Sheriff put a hand out to indicate Guy stop where he was.
"No. Stay. Let us both hear what the Madam has to say. Perhaps she's brought the scheming little bitch with her. I'd like you to be a witness to this." the Sheriff said.
"Very well, Cousin." Guy nodded.
In moments, the Page ushered Madam Birghiva and, surprisingly, Mistress Floria through the door into the Council Quarters. The Sheriff dismissed the Page then, and the young lad left the room, closing the door behind him.
"Milord Sheriff." Madam Birghiva nodded. "We have some important news to share with you. Thank you for fitting us in." she said. Then she nodded towards Guy as she kept her gaze on the Sheriff. "Wouldn't you prefer to keep this private?" she asked.
"Sir Gisborne is my Lieutenant. He is the only one in my circle who is privy to the situation with Celestria. Anything you say, he can hear, as well." Nottingham said.
"Very well." the Madam said.
The Sheriff looked to the young consort beside her, a little startled not only to see her, but, to see her dressed in such a boring shade of brown. Both of the ladies were dressed in plain, drab colours. They wore no paint on their faces, and both kept their hair covered in a black chiffon scarf.
"I'm a little surprised to see you here, Missy, after your display yesterday when I visited for questioning." the Sheriff said with his eyebrow quirked.
"Aye. My apologies for that, Milord." Floria nodded.
"Yes. It's also startling to see you dressed like a Monk, after the… fine gown you wore yesterday." the Sheriff added.
"Thank you. I made that myself." Floria said with a nod.
"Interesting. I assumed it was one of Madam Oberon's." he said.
"No. I wish! I've heard about her work. I'd like to meet her someday." Floria smiled.
"I'm sure." the Sheriff said. "What is it you need to tell me?" he asked pointedly.
"I need to tell you something of a conversation I had with Celestria just this morning. You need to know what's going on." Floria said.
"Alright. Enlighten me." Nottingham said.
"I think she plans to harm your betrothed, Milord." Floria announced abruptly.
The Sheriff sighed.
"Tell me everything." the Sheriff directed her.
"Alright." Floria began. "We had a moment together this morning, in the powder room. I came across her spreading a strange paste on her skin — on her face, neck, chest. It reddened her skin quite dramatically. She was also trying very hard not to heave. I asked her if she was unwell." Floria began.
"Continue, lass." Nottingham nodded.
"She said she was in perfect control. So, I asked what she meant." Floria said.
"And?" Nottingham asked.
"She said she was going to reel you in. Next she informed me of your nuptials, which she found out about from the Heralds, and said it didn't matter to her, because she would make sure your betrothed was… Hmm. How did she word it?" Floria looked off to the right for a second or two to think on it. "Yes! She said she'd make sure your betrothed was well out of the way." Floria sighed.
Guy shook his head and folded his arms.
The Sheriff sighed, then shook his head.
Just then the servants arrived to remove the dishes, and leftover food and beverages from the meeting with the Black Knights. Normally, the Sheriff would send them away, but he hated the sight of used dishes and food sitting around. Nobody had proven it, but he was certain it led to illness. He looked to the ladies from the brothel.
"Hold those thoughts, ladies. The servants shall be quick. We just had a meeting with some staff. It was lengthy, so I fed them." Nottingham quickly explained.
"Very well." Madam Birghiva nodded.
Young Floria smiled. Suddenly this old guy didn't seem like such a bore to her anymore. Perhaps just a little bit, but, he had some likeable qualities, too. She lost interest in him in an intimate way when she learned he was to be married soon. It was obvious he was devoted to his lady. Floria was noticing things she hadn't before, and was finding him a bit fascinating in a different way now. A man she could possibly respect.
"If you could carry out your tasks expediently, that would be grand." Nottingham directed the two lady servants.
"Aye, Milord." one of them nodded.
Nottingham caught Floria looking his way, a genuine smile upon her face. He regarded her, curiously.
A few minutes passed, then the servants took the last of the table ware, food, and drinks away.
"Come. Let's be seated now. I can tell you have more to tell me." the Sheriff said to both ladies as he gestured toward the table.
The Madam, and young consort nodded and followed his lead, taking their seats at the table across from the Sheriff and Guy.
"Did she go into much detail?" the Sheriff asked the young consort.
"Not great detail, but some. I asked her if she was with child since she was quite queasy. Her reply was, "No, but you didn't hear that from me." She's not only trying to trick you, Milord, I believe she wants to, as she put it, get your lady out of the way so that she can take your lady's place. It was the way she said it about your betrothed that gave me a shiver, and the look in her eyes gave cause for great concern." Floria said.
"Anything else?" Nottingham asked.
"I asked her to clarify what getting your lady well out of the way meant. She told me to use my imagination. She didn't outright admit harm, but, it was definitely implied." Floria said.
"Floria came straight to me with this news, Milord. She was insistent on coming here to report this to you directly, with or without me. I chose to accompany her." Madam Birghiva nodded.
"Does Celestria know you were coming here?" the Sheriff asked.
"Absolutely not, Milord. She was busy with a client when Floria and I were dressing to journey here." Madam Birghiva said.
"That is true." Floria agreed.
"You did well to report this to me straightaway, Missy. Perhaps you're not whom I thought you were." the Sheriff remarked.
"Forgive me, Sir. I did not know you were engaged to be married. Although, having a lady or a wife hasn't stopped many of the men I've met." Floria said.
"Yes. Indeed." the Sheriff agreed.
What was this lass doing? The Sheriff thought. She obviously was clever, and possessed skills with a needle and thread, it seemed. To him, she looked like a baby, even though he knew many people her age were often wed by now, many with children. He never understood that, personally — society's acceptance of that, but, it's just the way it was.
He realized that he never would've cared in the past. But, he was going to be a father again come spring. This child could be a girl, and he hoped his potential daughter would never be in the position Floria is in, in her future. Every time he saw the young blonde consort, he had the same thoughts: You are too young for this. Where the hell is your father? How in the name of Zeus is he not on a warpath to get your backside back home?
"Apologies for overstepping here, but, is… working at the brothel part of your plan? Is this your end game?" Nottingham tentatively asked.
"No. The goal someday is to open a shop. I shall be creating clothing for women, Milord. Of course, I'd like to marry a faithful man like you are to your lady, and have one or two children, as well. That is my hope, but, that's a ways off into the future." Floria said.
"She designs and sews all of her own garments, Milord. Even coats, capes, and bags." Madam Birghiva added.
"How long have you been making your clothes?" he asked, curiously.
"I learned the basics ten years ago. I took it seriously and started making my own gowns six years ago." Floria replied.
"Interesting. I take it you come by your current line of work out of necessity then?" Nottingham mused.
"Well, yes. But, I wouldn't work for another Madam, Sir. Madam Birghiva is very good to us." Floria answered honestly.
Madam Birghiva looked downcast and smiled.
"Have you parents?" Gisborne asked.
"No, Sir. My father died before I was born. Mother died of a brief illness last year." Floria said.
She wondered where these men were going with this line of questioning. It's true she never gave a moment's thought with her outspoken comments to the Sheriff prior to today; but, now that she was here in this meeting room in his castle, she felt slightly intimidated.
"I see." Nottingham replied simply. He looked downcast to conceal a sigh.
"I would have liked to bring Celestria to you myself after this revelation, Milord, but, she would be suspicious. We felt it best to come to you with this and let you make the decision on how to proceed." Madam Birghiva said, redirecting to the topic at hand.
"Yes, Milord. When I shared this with Madam Birghiva she told me about Celestria poisoning you. I know no other details than that." a beat. "Celestria is going too far, Milord, if she hasn't already." Floria stated.
"Indeed. I think you both made the best decision." the Sheriff agreed.
"I concur, Milord. She would've attempted escape." Guy said.
"Alas, I didn't wish to risk that, even though Floria and I would have marched her in here if we thought we could sufficiently manage her." Madam Birghiva sighed.
"Indeed, we would have, Madam." Floria nodded to Birghiva.
"Was there anything else she mentioned to you, relevant to the matter?" the Sheriff asked.
"No. Those were the only sensible phrases extracted out of all that she said. Most of the time she didn't make sense. She was speaking rapidly, and had my head spinning with how quickly she jumped topics." Floria said.
"I see." Nottingham said.
Mortianna and Guy are right. Celestria is a liability. It's sounding like she's gone completely daft! She'll never keep her mouth shut!
"I'm glad you brought this to my attention, ladies." Nottingham said. Next he turned his attention to Floria. "Now, Floria, I would like a word with your Madam. I'll have my Lieutenant escort you just outside the door for a moment."
"Very well." Floria nodded. She didn't show it, but, inside she was beaming that the Sheriff finally addressed her by name.
After Gisborne had taken her outside the door of the Council Quarters, the Sheriff addressed Madam Birghiva.
"What is Floria's age? Do you know?" the Sheriff asked.
"She is fifteen years." Madam Birghiva replied with a quirk of her brow.
"When I come back to your establishment I'm requesting you pass me a small item that she has crafted. I say small, because I can't imagine concealing a whole gown in my surcoat." Nottingham said with a slight grin, and a knowing quirk of his left brow.
He would be grinning more in company he fully trusted, but, the Sheriff preferred to be guarded with any others.
"Yes. I can do that. Why?" the Madam asked pointedly.
"Nothing at all malicious." a beat. "You'll like it." the Sheriff hinted with a wink of his eye.
"Alright. When can I expect you?" the Madam asked.
"Sometime in the next couple of days. I may not have the time today as I have other matters needing my attention. One of my men and I have an assignment to complete forthwith that involves travel." Nottingham said.
"What am I to do with Celestria while she's carrying on like a raving lunatic, Milord?" the woman asked.
"Maybe let that "Lord" What's His Name know she's back in town." the Sheriff hooked the first two fingers of each of his hands in the air at the mention of the supposed title. "Keep her occupied. I'm sure you can rein her in somehow." he said with a quirk of his brow, knowingly.
"Very well. Indeed, I can. Yes, perhaps I could get word to Lord Rothwell?" the Madam wondered.
Fifteen minutes later, well after the Madam and the young consort had left the premises, the Sheriff was speaking to Guy in the Council Quarters.
The Sheriff was feeling like the last few days had increasingly become more sour as time passed. A series of unexpected events kept cropping up everywhere around him, at every turn, it seemed. Outside matters, and family matters, too. He really needed to gain his control back. He knew this innately in his soul.
"What are you going to do? The matter in Nettlestone can wait until the morrow, George." Guy suggested.
"I shouldn't need to say this, but, if the conniving whore is at all suspicious of Birghiva's and Floria's absences she'll probably figure it out and expect me to arrive today." Nottingham said firmly as he narrowed his amber hazel eyes into Guy's. "I need to catch her unaware. I'm carefully pondering my next moves, Cousin. Nothing is done without thought, trust me." a beat. "I'll see her when I'm ready. The scheming, murderous little bitch shall be apprehended and dealt with. That I can promise you. I will not be pressured." he said sternly.
"Very well, Cousin."
"As you were previously directed right before our unexpected meeting, you shall be in charge. I'll inform you when I'm departing to your manor. I have a few things I must see to first." Nottingham said.
"As you wish. I take it Lady Rhiannon is one of those matters?" Guy asked.
The Sheriff paused a moment, looking at him, curiously.
"You shall be gone a few hours. It's natural you'd want to see her, at least to make sure she is well, Cousin." Guy said smoothly.
"Yes. That is correct." the Sheriff nodded.
"It was a shock to hear about the level of trickery that courtesan is capable of." Guy said with a sigh.
"I guess I'm the only lucky one who has had to deal with maidens like her. The only good one I courted before Lady Rhiannon was Lady Meridwyn, as you know. And, there was another smart, trustworthy one man many moons ago, but too damn long ago now to count. I swear, Gis, there's a lot of them as crafty and vile as Celestria, just in different ways. Be thankful you are shocked." Nottingham huffed.
"Aye. I did know that, but, I guess I've just forgotten since I've had it so good these last three years." Guy said.
"Indeed. The news from the brothel is only one of the problems in progress. Some strange things are going on of late, Guy, and I shall get to the bottom of them all, and handle a few of these matters." the Sheriff said.
Sometime later the Sheriff was walking away from his private chambers on the second level. He went there to see his lady, but, was informed straightway by the sentry posted there that Lady Rhiannon had left just after he did in the morning.
He thought of looking for her, but, he decided he would wait to see what the next day would bring regarding her behaviour. He felt a little oddly that he needed to watch her so closely, but he was genuinely doing it to keep her safe.
The Sheriff was wishing he hadn't asked Thomas a few days ago specific questions of his mother's death in the childbed. He thought not knowing what happened to his mother would be least helpful as Rhiannon's condition continued forward. It was the only reason he asked Thomas the questions. But, now that he knew more details, he was more concerned for Rhiannon than ever. Thomas Cromwell commented that, "Birth is a gamble."!
The Sheriff has never given thought to the idea of children in his future before he met Lady Rhiannon, but, he was firm that there would be no more after the one due in the spring, because it was too risky, especially in Rhiannon's case having nearly died after giving life to their son. He would have to figure out a way to prevent this from happening again.
The journey to Nettlestone was welcome. Nottingham had a few moments during the ride to speak with Ancel, but, the majority of the time spent was him leading Ancel, since his newest recruit was from the south and unfamiliar with the area. He needed that time to contemplate a few things.
Once they arrived in front of the manor, which was situated on a large, private property of thirty acres; the Sheriff dismounted and secured his horse to the tree in front of the home, then gave instructions to Ancel.
"Here it is, Ancel. This is Sir Gisborne's manor. Isn't it rather quaint?" Nottingham said.
"Indeed. It's quite pleasing,Milord." Ancel agreed.
"Wait here a moment. I need to speak with my Officers, Richard, and Nigel who are guarding the manor."
"Very well, Milord." a beat. "Is this practice customary, or just a personal preference of Sir Gisborne's?" Ancel asked, sincerely.
"Which practice, lad?" Nottingham asked, a bit bewildered.
"Having his home guarded, Milord. It's a bit off the beaten path, there's no one around for miles, and there's fencing around the property from the two sides of it I could see. If no one is there, Milord, why the guards? I'm genuinely asking." Ancel added.
"You really are a good investigator. You don't miss a beat." the Sheriff remarked while concealing a grin. "Thing is, there is someone there, Ancel. A relative of Sir Gisborne's and myself." he regarded Ancel oddly. "At the meeting earlier, I did say I had someone I needed to speak — " Nottingham was cut off.
"Yes, Milord. You were non specific, however. You said there was someone you needed to see in Nettlestone. I mistook that as the general vicinity, rather than exact location." Ancel said.
"Indeed. Anyway, I cannot go into detail, but, this is why we have two of my men, whom you shall meet forthwith, here at Guy's manor." the Sheriff explained.
Ancel sighed, in embarrassment.
"Oh, I see. Apologies, Milord. I didn't mean to pry. I was asking more from an investigative standpoint. Sometimes the alacrity for the work outshines common sense and propriety." Ancel nodded.
"Understood, Ancel." the Sheriff nodded.
He then turned to walk the cobblestone path to the front door of his cousin's manor. His trusty Officers were standing on guard, flanking either side of the door.
"Good day, men." the Sheriff nodded to each of them.
"Good afternoon, Milord." Richard nodded.
"Greetings, Milord. Who is that you have with you? Will he be entering the premises?" Nigel asked. His shoulder length, blond hair lashed in the wind from below his helm.
"That is Ancel, the newest member of the Black Knights. He is also our newest investigator. Yes, he will be entering the manor. But, be aware, he is not to know of my son. Too many people know of this already, and he's still in an early review phase. There's very good reason you two know the basics, but, not a word to him, men. Are we clear on that?" the Sheriff said sternly, folding his arms and narrowing his eyes upon them.
The men looked at one another with bewildered expressions then turned back toward their Sheriff.
"Very well, Milord. It shall be done." Nigel nodded.
"Yes, Milord. As always, we shall maintain the strictest confidentiality." Richard assured him.
"Good. Now, Ancel is here to speak to you, Richard. We need your artistic skills, once again." the Sheriff said.
"Oh. Am I drawing him or something?" Richard asked.
Nigel sighed. He noticed the Sheriff's scornful gaze and looked downcast.
"No. He will be describing an outlaw to you, much like when the Captain gave his descriptions to you on the mission in the north." the Sheriff said.
"Very well." Richard smiled.
"Will that be a real outlaw this time, Milord?" a beat. "It takes him awhile to do this drawing-from-dictation thing, you know." Nigel remarked as he nodded toward Richard. "I hope you had nothing else planned today, Milord — because if you did, it won't get done. I'm just saying." he added.
"Aye. He's real, alright." Nottingham said. He paused a moment to think on the other comment from Nigel, then he turned to Richard. "I need you to accurately sketch from Ancel's description, then make at least six more copies."
"Alright." Richard nodded
"How long will that take?" Nottingham asked with a quirk of his brow.
"Likely a few hours, Milord. It's quicker to accomplish it if the subject is in front of me. Drawing from someone else's memory can be a bit dicey." Richard explained.
"I'll say! It took you hours and hours, and hours more just to get one completed in the north, mate. How in God's nightgown will you get another six copies done expediently?" Nigel asked as he narrowed his green eyes.
"I only have one person to sketch this time, and copies are relatively easy." Richard replied.
"You're taking second watch overnight, I swear to Zeus, Richard." Nigel huffed at his mate, shaking his head.
"Got it, Captain." Richard quipped.
The Sheriff folded his arms and looked scornfully at Nigel again.
Nigel sighed and looked downcast a moment. Then he looked up into the Sheriff's eyes.
"May I ask why so many copies of Richard's sketch, Milord?" he asked.
"Normally I'd tell you to sod off, but, I'm sure you've many questions, and I'd rather we are all clear of what the strategy is." Nottingham sighed. "I want them divided up and given to every one of you who are out on assignment. You two shall have one copy. Officer James Curran will have a copy as he is currently guarding my lady's manor. My Captain and Lieutenant will each have a copy as they are both leading search teams; Officer Mordrid, and Ancel shall have one; the rest of the men assigned to the search; and a copy for Drake and Albert who are currently manning the portcullis most of each day." he explained.
"Who is Albert, Milord? Another new recruit?" Nigel asked.
"No, he's not new. You know him. He frequently guards the private chambers, and, alternately guards the entrance to the dungeon." the Sheriff said.
"Ah, yes! You mean Alfred." Richard said.
"Aye, that's Alfred. Kind of a quiet bloke." Nigel agreed with his mate.
"Whatever." the Sheriff sighed.
"How will we shield the child from Ancel?" Richard asked.
"The child is a baby, Richard. It's not like he takes up a large amount of space. I shall be on the second level with my son, and you and Ancel can meet in the sitting room on the first floor."
"I guess he's never heard the child wail." Nigel chortled while addressing Richard, nodding toward the Sheriff.
"What he means, my lord, is we can keep our mouths shut, no bother; but, we can't do anything to drown out the sound of a very upset infant." Richard explained.
"Why is my boy upset?" Nottingham asked pointedly.
"He's still teething, Milord Sheriff." Nigel said.
"At this stage, I think it's more than just pain. He knew exactly how to get what he wanted from his Aunt, but, Lady Margaret doesn't give in to him as much, and I swear he knows it." Richard added, genuinely aghast at how intelligent the baby boy was.
The Sheriff looked downcast and smiled proudly at his boy's cunning at only close to a half year old. This boy has a bright future already! The Sheriff could already feel it in his gut.
"In other words, the child could start his loud fussing at any moment. How shall we explain that, Milord?" Nigel asked.
"Let's change location for the artist consult, Richard. You and Ancel meet in the barn. It's far enough away from the manor. If the boy fusses, Ancel won't hear a thing." Nottingham said.
"With all due respect, Milord Sheriff, that is an odd venue for this kind of meeting. I'm fine with it, but, this Ancel fellow is going to be suspicious." Richard said to the Sheriff while nodding to Ancel, who was well in the background by about twenty yards, behind the Sheriff.
"Milord, no offence, but, the bloke might even wonder why he's being taken into the barn. He might think he's going to be tortured, in fairness." Nigel explained.
Nottingham sighed. "Right. Here's what we'll do: the meeting with you and Ancel will take place in the sitting room, as originally planned, Richard." he said to Richard, then addressed both the men as he continued. "If the child starts fussing, then you can go to the barn to continue. If the child's wailing is as loud as you describe, Ancel shall be glad to escape to a quiet place."
Both men nodded in agreement.
"He's already asked why there are guards here, so I told him a relative of mine and Sir Gisborne's is staying here. Just… follow my lead." Nottingham instructed both men.
Moments later the Sheriff brought Ancel toward the door, and introduced the three men.
"Now, Richard is going to show you to the sitting room, Ancel. I will be in another room visiting my… relative." Nottingham said.
"Very well, Milord." Ancel nodded.
"And you'll inform me when the work is completed, Richard." the Sheriff directed Richard.
"As you wish, Milord." Richard agreed. He looked to Ancel next. "How many times have you seen this outlaw I will be sketching, Ancel?"
"Many times, Richard. I wish it weren't the case, but, I'm chagrined to admit — he used to be a friend." Ancel said, then looked downcast.
"Splendid!" Richard exclaimed.
Ancel looked up at him, and all three of them expressed surprise at Richard's comment.
"Why is that a good thing?" Nottingham asked with his eyebrow quirked.
"Because Ancel knows the man well, Milord. We can achieve this much faster than the session in the north. The Captain had only seen the couple in question one time. The face of this outlaw would be unmistakably imprinted in Ancel's mind. It leaves zero room for error." Richard explained.
"Perfect." the Sheriff smiled.
"That's very good to hear, mate. I was expecting this to take all evening, and well into the night like when you were sketching for Duke Farnsworth." Nigel admitted.
"I don't think it will, mate. This changes everything." Richard said.
"Very good. I shall leave you lads to it then. You best get started. The men are going to need those sketches to show the Villagers in the coming days. We need to rein this bloke in." the Sheriff said.
"Agreed, Milord Sheriff." Ancel nodded.
"Mate? Before you begin, could you ask Lady Margaret about sending out a cup of my special tea? Lots of cinnamon and ginger. That will be warming, out here." Nigel asked, Richard.
"Of course, mate." Richard nodded.
"Cheers, mate." Nigel smiled.
"Tea time — on duty, Nigel?" the Sheriff asked, curiously.
"Just something warm to sip while I'm on watch, Milord. You should try it sometime. It puts a spring in my step, and a — "
"Zing in your spirit." Richard scoffed. Then he looked to the Sheriff. "I hear that phrase every day when he sips of it, Milord."
"Since it's only a harmless cup of tea, that's fine. As long as you lads aren't imbibing while on duty." the Sheriff said as his eyebrow shot north.
"No, Milord Sheriff. That would completely interfere with our training." Nigel said.
"I see. Very well." he nodded.
Later, Richard and Ancel were seated in comfortable chairs across from one another in the sitting room of Guy's manor. Richard had his right arm resting on a table in front of him where the parchment was waiting, charcoal in hand.
"I'm ready to begin. Tell me about this former friend of yours." Richard opened conversation, and their meeting.
"Right. Of course, you need specifics on appearance. He's short in stature, a bit rotund. He has balding red hair, blue eyes that bulge a bit, and more than one chin. How's that for a start?" Ancel asked.
"It's a great start — for the drawing part of it." Richard began. He kept his eyes mostly on Ancel, but his right hand was already at work. "You were his friend. The Sheriff wants him, yet… suddenly, you're the newest recruit in the Sheriff's militia." a beat. "You mind telling me how in God's nightgown that came about, Ancel?" Richard asked pointedly.
Ancel sighed. He was normally very private with his thoughts and kept to himself. He had shared more with the Sheriff and his top men these last few days then he ever had with anyone since his father. He knew he had to gain the trust of his fellow Black Knights, though, because he had come by this new position in the most unusual of ways. He was careful what he said to most of them. He trusted the Sheriff and his top men the most, he assumed because he was more familiar with them.
"Yes, it's an interesting story. How much do you want to know?" Ancel asked.
"However much you feel like sharing." he stopped drawing and continued. "I'm just curious, Ancel. To me, it's rather suspicious. I'm sure Nigel thinks the same. One doesn't just suddenly show up one day as not only the newest recruit, but, employed as an Investigator — right at the start." Richard said boldly with his eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"Indeed." Ancel sighed. "It all started back in — " he was interrupted.
"Wait. Have a look at this face shape and the details so far." Richard said, holding the parchment up to show Ancel.
"It's almost an exact likeness already, even though there's only eyes and nose shapes without detail yet. But… how did you do that? We were speaking the entire time! I didn't even notice you sketching, oddly." Ancel commented, incredulously.
"I'm not sure. It just happens on occasion. Especially when the subject is as engaged in the process as I am; and you're engaged. I know you're not the subject, but, you are still my eyes in this case." Richard attempted to explain.
"Alright." Ancel said. "You were right. Perhaps this won't take long at all. You're well on your way to capturing the man perfectly, and you've only just begun to sketch."
"You've been very specific in your description thus far. It makes this task far easier for me." Richard said as he looked to the parchment a moment while he added detail to the drawing. "What was it you started to say again?"
"Right. Well, it all began in Portsmouth… " Ancel started to say.
The Sheriff had just entered his son's room. Lady Margaret was just picking up a bowl and spoon to take away. She had just finished feeding the infant, and had put him down in his cradle after burping him. She turned toward the doorway when she heard footsteps.
"Oh, Milord!" she exclaimed, though, trying to keep her voice lowered; a little startled to see him. "I just finished feeding your son. He may soon be getting sleepy."
"I see. What is that in the bowl?" the Sheriff asked as he walked closer toward the cradle.
"Puréed carrots, Milord. He likes them very much." Lady Margaret said.
"Isn't that a bit much for him at this stage? He is only an infant." Nottingham pointed out.
"No, Milord. He is ready for it. Children his age like to eat soft foods, and it's good for them. He also has a thin porridge now, mixed with goats milk. He is drinking goats milk, as well." Lady Margaret smiled.
"Mil!" the curly haired child shouted. He had pulled himself into a sitting position in his cradle and was clapping his hands.
The Sheriff looked to his son, startled at the child's growth and abilities.
"Now, laddie, you just had your milk right before the carrots. We mustn't give you a sore belly." Lady Margaret smiled.
"Izzy!" the wee lad cried.
"Auntie isn't here just now, dear, but she'll be back." Lady Margaret said. She looked to the Sheriff. "Your boy is already quite wilful, Milord. He's full of personality, as you can see for yourself." she sighed.
"No. Izzeeeeeee!" the little boy shrieked.
"There, there, my boy." the Sheriff said as he walked to him and picked him up. "It's me. Your father. I shall bring your auntie by to visit you soon. It will be alright." he said as he held the child close to him.
"Now that I think of it, I'm not sure that would be a wise idea, Milord." Lady Margaret cautioned.
"You mean bringing Isa — " Nottingham was cut off.
"Don't say the name, Milord. Trust me on this." Lady Margaret stated.
"What?" he asked, slowly.
"The wee lad is quite attached to her. Too attached. I'm not sure if that's a good or bad thing, since she spoils him rotten. The problem will be when she leaves him next. It was very hard on them both, saying goodbye the last time. It had an affect for a few days with your boy, Milord. He's doing better now, but, he's still asking for her, as you just witnessed." Lady Margaret explained.
"Oh. I see. Yes, that makes sense. I will do my best to keep them apart, but, I won't promise it. If you are needed for either my lady, or Lady Gisborne, she will be sent back here as she is the only other lady I trust to care for my son, besides yourself. She is good to him, devoted to him, and she is family." the Sheriff stated firmly.
"Very well." the midwife nodded.
The raven haired, green eyed boy grabbed at the laces of the Sheriff's surcoat and began to chew on them. He rested his head against the Sheriff's chest.
"Mil!" the child squealed, laughing. The boy could already tell in his infant mind that his carer would never give in to him, but, his auntie, and his father would.
The Sheriff seated himself in a chair while holding the boy and looked to Lady Margaret, as she was starting to head toward the door.
"Bring me some goats milks to give him, Madam." he directed the midwife.
The midwife spun around to face him.
"Milord, he just had his fill. If he's overfed he will heave. That's what they do." Lady Margaret stated firmly.
"I'm sure, but, a small measure wont hurt him. Just do it, for the love of Zeus. I don't want him fussing. There's a new Knight in the sitting room with Richard just now. Get the damned goats milk before this boy throws a fit." the Sheriff huffed.
"Very well." Lady Margaret relented. "You had best be prepared. I shall bring you a small towel. God knows, you shall need it." she sighed, then headed out the door to carry out the task.
The Sheriff looked to his boy seated in his lap. He began to talk to him softly. He knew his son was incapable of understanding him right now, but, the Sheriff was more addressing the wise soul inside of his boy.
"Time is passing too fast, my boy. I see it every time we meet. The time is drawing closer when you and your mother shall behold one another. It's delicate, my boy. She doesn't know of you yet, but, she shall know it soon." the Sheriff sighed.
"Fa!" the boy squealed as he looked into his father's eyes.
"Are you trying to say "father", my dear boy?" the Sheriff smiled.
The child laughed and returned his attention to the laces on Nottingham's surcoat.
"Yes, my son. I am your father. I will see to it you never want for anything, and be protected, always." a beat. "I am thankful you will not remember this strange time in your life. Soon, my dearest boy, very soon, you shall have no one but your family around you at all times. There will be Mother and myself, Uncle Guy and Auntie Meridwyn, and your wee cousin who is coming. You'll also have Uncle Robert and Auntie — " he stopped himself. "Yes, you'll have Uncle Robert and Auntie back. Forgive me for this, my boy. There are reasons for it, and they shall be resolved very soon." Nottingham said as he looked down to his child, seated on his lap.
The child looked up at him, entranced by the soothing sound of his father's voice.
Rhiannon was taking a stroll through the gardens during a break from her target practice. She needed to find a quiet place to sit for a bit, since she'd been hard at practice. It was now late afternoon. She had her cape and her book with the journal safe inside of it, her flask of water and handkerchief within the pockets of her cape. The weapons and stuffed man were tucked away well behind her in the wooded area. She would return there soon to continue the practice session a little longer. There wasn't going to be too much daylight left. She was pleased with her progress thus far, and wanted to get at least another hour in before heading back inside the castle. She wanted to be well prepared before her betrothed returned from his duties.
She found a spot in amongst greenery, and some roses that had managed to endure through the autumn. Before today the weather was rather chill, so the sight, and fading, sweet fragrance of them was a delightful surprise to Lady Rhiannon.
She sat on a bench which was placed there, and opened her book, as well as Lady Aelesia's journal inside of it. She quickly perused a few pages and then found a page, which from a quick glance over, was looking riveting. She began to read the first few lines:
"Wednesday, January 2nd, 1157;
It's strange to be writing. I should be eager with the start of a new year, but, I'm uneasy.
Monday evening's festivities began merrily, but, ended rather strangely. I don't know what to make of Evie's betrothed, but, he's starting to act a little… sinister? Or, perhaps I'm making a fuss… "
"Ah! There you are, Rhi!" Lady Meridwyn exclaimed.
"We've been looking everywhere, dearest. My, you do like to be elusive, don't you?" Isabelle teased.
Rhiannon closed the book and set it down on the bench. She stood to greet her sisters.
"Why are you perspiring so, Rhiannon?" Lady Meridwyn asked pointedly. "What have you been up to?" she questioned, saying the words slowly as she tilted her head, narrowing her sky blue eyes in suspicion.
"Indeed." Isabelle agreed with a nod.
"Don't you find it rather warm, dearest?" Rhiannon asked Meridwyn. "I'm sure the child is somehow making me feel quite warm today, apart from the mild weather, of course. Normally, I react quite the opposite." Rhiannon partly lied, with a shrug.
"I suppose that's true for some ladies, but, maybe I haven't been as stimulated as you are?" Meridwyn said with a quirk of her brow.
"Yes, perhaps." Rhiannon muttered absently.
"How long have you been reading, Rhiannon? That stone bench is no good for your back, especially now." Isabelle cautioned.
"Not long at all, Isabelle. I was walking before this. I had just sat down moments prior to your arrival." Rhiannon said.
"Walking? Or, running? My God, Rhi, you're dripping!" Meridwyn exclaimed.
"Dearest, are you feeling unwell? You shouldn't be perspiring like this. Are you feeling feverish?" Isabelle questioned with genuine concern.
"Yes, walking." Rhiannon said to Meridwyn. Then she looked to her sister in law and added, "I'm feeling perfectly well, honestly, Isabelle." she said as she pulled the handkerchief from the pocket of her cape, which was draped over her left arm; and dabbed her face, neck, and décolleté with it.
"Interesting. You don't look it, honey. You look like you either just finished running away from someone — because I personally refuse to understand why you'd do it for fun; or, we should summon the medicus, and/or the midwife." Meridwyn said firmly with her arms folded and her blue eyes narrowed.
"I will relieve Lady Margaret again, so she can be available to you." Isabelle offered, her soft blue eyes twinkled in a reassuring smile.
"Ladies! There is really no need for such fuss. I was walking, quite briskly. I don't like sitting idle, I never have. I feel well, I promise you." Lady Rhiannon smiled.
"A brisk walk? What exactly is that, anyway? You seriously look like you've been running… or doing something strenuous you shouldn't be." Meridwyn said.
"What is it with maidens being afraid of a little exercise? I swear it is good for the body. Exercise, Meridwyn. You should try it some time." Rhiannon sighed.
"I get plenty of that from my husband, truth be told." Meridwyn said with a knowing smirk.
"Oh, my!" Isabelle giggled, putting a hand to her mouth.
"I mean, why would I subject myself to more than that?" Meridwyn shrugged, speaking to both of them. "The last thing I need is encouraging moisture. Have you noticed this hair?" she pointed to her fiery red curls, which were dancing with orange light cast from the warm sun, which was lowering in the sky. "You don't even want to know what it looks like with a whiff of dampness in the air, or if I should perspire. It's not pretty in any way." she sighed.
"If you say so — on both points." Lady Rhiannon murmured softly, mostly to herself. She missed the touch of her betrothed. She cleared her throat and refocused. "I've never noticed your hair change in rainy weather. I remember it rained when we journeyed north to look for our men, but, the hood of your cape covered your hair. Then you were too sick, and I was too distracted with thoughts of how to get us the hell out of there and away from that criminal to notice your hair." Rhiannon shrugged, as she addressed Meridwyn.
"Wait… you two were held together as captives?" Isabelle asked, rather shocked.
"Yes. I don't remember any of it, but — " Lady Meridwyn was interrupted.
"It was the second time the bastard had me in his custody. The first time was for nearly eight months. Some of that I don't remember. This last time, I was prepared. I gave it to him good, right in his side." Rhiannon winked at her sister in law.
"You hit him?" Isabelle asked, her bonny blue eyes widened in shock.
"Hell, no, Isabelle. She stabbed him with the Sheriff's dagger. I wish I could've seen that. That woman is fierce!" Meridwyn grinned as she nodded towards Rhiannon. Then she turned and faced her friend.
"I wish you'd twisted the blade, though. That was the only thing wrong with it — it didn't finish him off."
"Indeed. It worked out, though. George got him in the end." Rhiannon said.
"Oh… dear me… " Isabelle said softly. She was stunned at how nonchalantly they just described a man's death, and that Rhiannon admitted to stabbing him.
"Justice was deserved, Isabelle. Our brother in law was doing us ladies a giant favour, you can trust me on that. Our captor robbed many families of wives, sisters, mothers, and daughters. Guy told me a little about it. The man's crimes were terrifying." a beat. "Do not be afraid of the Sheriff. He is not the man you may have heard about any longer." Meridwyn reassured.
"That may be, and I'm grateful he took appropriate measures with that outlaw if what you say is true. I did see a different side to him once, however. A side neither of you might have been privy to. That memory keeps me on my guard, even though I've not witnessed that side of him since." Isabelle admitted, tentatively.
"Understood." Rhiannon nodded, and briefly grasped Isabelle's hand and squeezed it.
"We've digressed. You sure that was just a… brisk walk, as you put it? Or, is something amiss with your condition, dearest?" Isabelle asked her sister in law.
"I'm very sure. A brisk walk. A faster pace than boring strolling, and not quite a run. I'm feeling well — I'm certain because of the brisk walk." Lady Rhiannon sighed.
"You better not be lying, Rhiannon, I swear. I'm still trying to decide if you're fibbing or not." Meridwyn sighed.
"This child is important to me, Meridwyn. I wouldn't deign to jeopardize his safety by lying about my health, I swear it." Rhiannon said firmly. "On my father's grave." she added.
"Interesting… " Meridwyn muttered.
"I'll say." Isabelle agreed.
"What is?" Rhiannon asked.
"You said "father". No mention of your mother's grave. Just curious, is all." Meridwyn commented.
"My friend, I only knew one parent. In my mind there's only one. Why would I swear something on my mother's grave? It would be meaningless because I never knew the lady." Rhiannon sighed.
"Because she's… your mother?" Lady Meridwyn suggested.
"Well, she's technically my mother, but, you must understand — I had no mother. I had a loving father, and two dear brothers. Luckily, I still have one of my brothers. However, there was no mother, so… " Rhiannon shrugged.
"Okay… " Meridwyn relented with a shrug of her slender shoulders.
"You may not want to repeat that too often to Robert, dearest. He speaks of your mother often. He loved her dearly." Isabelle said.
"I don't mean to disrespect their relationship, Isabelle. I just don't relate to it. It's natural he would feel fondness for her. He knew her for eight years." Rhiannon explained.
"Alright. So, the point is, you're swearing we don't need to summon for the professionals then." Isabelle said.
"Yes. My! You two can be as bad as… well, everyone, it turns out." Rhiannon sighed. "Anyway, what was the specific reason for looking for me? Am I needed?" Rhiannon asked.
"What has gotten into you? I'd swear you're not yourself?" Meridwyn pressed.
"We've just been concerned, dearest. You've been elusive these last two days. If there's something we can do to assist you, well, naturally we would be present." Isabelle soothed.
"Forgive me, sisters. It's not my intent to be abrasive." Rhiannon said. "Babies can do strange things to a lady." she sighed.
"Yes. Indeed, they can." Isabelle agreed as she thought of her wee nephew in Nettlestone.
"I'm… utterly and completely speechless." Officer Richard remarked at the end of Ancel's story.
"Yes. I'm sure." Ancel said, as he successfully stifled a sigh.
"You were investigating this… funny looking bloke,… " Richard said while nodding to the sketch taking shape on the parchment. "… yet, you consorted with him. You played him; you played them all! I've never heard the likes of that before. And you told the Sheriff all of this — and he offered you a position straightway. A top position at that — while you were still technically his prisoner! What? Did I hear you correctly, or was I not catching everything since I was sketching?" Richard asked, incredulously. He shook his head, his dark hair glistened with light cast from the torches, and the fading sunlight beaming in through the window.
"Aye. You did hear me correctly. All of what you said is true." Ancel nodded.
"Has the world gone mad, or have I?" Richard asked.
"Neither, but, you're right to question it. I never would've believed it either, but, here we are." Ancel said.
"Is the Sheriff well these days? I just can't fathom how he'd hire a prisoner for a top position in the Black Knights. This is quite unlike him. You're either a damn good thespian, or a bleeding genius. I'm still trying to figure out which, frankly." Richard sighed.
"The fact that you're questioning it tells me you have decent investigative skills, as well, Richard. Understood. I don't expect trust right now. If you trusted me now it would tell me perhaps you're not suited for your position. All I can do is act accordingly, and later we can talk about trust." Ancel stated, confidently, and matter of factly.
"Very well. And to add to your first point, all of us have investigative skills, but, only those deemed the best by the Sheriff are given the official title." Richard said with a knowing gaze.
"Then I have much to prove." Ancel said.
"Indeed." Richard nodded. He held up the parchment to show the newest member of the Black Knights. "How am I doing now?" he asked.
"Hmm… " Ancel narrowed his grey eyes as he squinted briefly. "You're getting close. The nose is slightly off, his face is rounder than that, and, I can assure you, he has more than just one chin. His head and neck are shaped like a person's great toe, truthfully." he shrugged.
Richard, who was a bit disappointed at first to realize he wasn't close to completion of the sketch, burst into uproarious laughter at Ancel's final comment.
"Ah ha ha! That was quality, I must remember that one!" Richard laughed.
"Funny thing about that, Richard — I wasn't jesting. I was serious." Ancel said.
"Oh, my. That's not good — for him, at least. But, the bloke is definitely going to stand out in a crowd — like a stubbed toe, it would seem. At least, from what I'm seeing on paper, and your descriptors get worse as we go." Richard sighed.
"Aye. I do believe that shall be his downfall. He's being elusive for now, though. Many in the Village have been questioned, no one has seen him so far. Unless, some of those people questioned were lying… " Ancel mused.
"What do you think?" Richard asked while he looked down at the parchment briefly, making further modifications to the sketch.
"I have only suspicion, not proof. I was working another angle with Officer Mordrid. We weren't involved with questioning the Villagers." Ancel explained.
"I see." Richard said. "How committed are you to the Sheriff finding your former comrade?"
"I'm in this — all the way." Ancel said, unblinking.
"Seriously? This isn't a joke?" Richard asked as he nodded toward the drawing taking shape so far. "You had me there, Ancel. I thought you were making this up to throw us off course. No one could be this unfortunate looking!" he shook his head.
"No, he is. The Sheriff, Sir Gisborne, and Officers Luke, Adam, and Drake can verify what I tell you. They've seen him, too." Ancel stated with a knowing gaze.
Officer Richard clicked his tongue against his palate a few beats.
"That bloke won't stand a chance. Who could ever forget him?" he exclaimed.
"Indeed. That's why the drawings will help. The Villagers will, hopefully, take it more seriously if we show them those sketches." Ancel said.
"I'm not so sure about that. I'm having a time not turning his face into a caricature, to be quite frank." Richard sighed.
"How's it coming along, lads?" Nottingham asked, startling both of them as he suddenly appeared in the doorway.
"I'm still working on the first sketch, Milord. It shall be ready in a — " Richard was interrupted.
"Really? I thought you said this would be faster than the last time you were tasked with this by Duke Farnsworth?" the Sheriff asked with his eyebrow quirked. He advanced through the doorway and moved closer toward the men.
"I did, Milord. And it is faster — very much so. It took me several hours to achieve the first sketch deemed accurate by the Captain. This has only taken a couple of hours so far." Richard explained.
Nottingham sighed.
"We're going to be awhile yet, aren't we?" the Sheriff asked, folding his arms in frustration.
His son was already eating, yet again. The child was stuffing something into his gob every couple of hours. The Sheriff was beginning to wonder how many more feedings would his son need before this sketch was completed? The longer they stayed the higher the risk of the child fussing, and the Sheriff preferred that Ancel not hear the sounds of the infant's cry, not for one moment.
"At least two hours more, possibly three. Ancel tells me I'm getting close." Richard said.
"Have a look, Milord. I'd like you to see how close we are getting to Hamon's likeness." Ancel suggested.
The Sheriff nodded and walked closer toward the table the parchment was placed on. Richard turned the drawing around so the Sheriff could properly see it. Nottingham looked down and studied the sketch a few moments then spoke.
"Hmm. Very good, Richard." Nottingham nodded. He paused a moment longer while looking at it again before continuing. "I'd say his face is broader — round, with no distinguishable chin. Other than that you're nearly there, from what I can see." Nottingham said with a smile.
"Yes, Milord. Except for the nose being a bit off." Ancel agreed.
"See, that's why it was crucial for you to be the one describing his features to Richard, Ancel. Only you would know details like that." Nottingham pointed out.
"Indeed, Milord." Ancel nodded.
"Wait. So… the bloke really does look like this?" Richard asked, incredulously.
"Yes. Make him look fat, and you got him!" the Sheriff grinned.
"I'm not understanding how no one has seen him. He has very distinctive features — and not in a good way. People would remember a face like that." Richard said, shaking his head in bewilderment.
"It's even more curious if you could see all of him in the flesh. He's shaped like a sphere. He's behaving like a wizard lately, however." the Sheriff said, shaking his head.
"I think the sketches will help, Milord. When the villagers are shown the drawings, even if they hadn't seen him before, they'll recognize him if they do see him after that. That's what happened in the north. A man had seen your proclamation, he spotted the woman at the market, then he informed us." Richard explained.
"Exactly. That is the outcome I'm hoping for." the Sheriff said. He folded his arms before continuing. "Alright, lads. I'll leave you to it then. I shall return to visit my relative, and hopefully the drawings shall be completed before dusk." he said, directing the last point to Richard with his eyebrow raised. "I'd like to see my bride to be before she falls asleep, preferably." Nottingham sighed.
"Indeed, Milord. I believe I'm getting close with this first illustration. I shall endeavour to get the copies done expediently." Richard nodded.
Just before dusk, Lady Rhiannon was returning to the castle. Meridwyn and Isabelle had left her soon after their meeting in the gardens. She explained to them that she wanted to read a little more of her book while there was still daylight. She did want to get back to reading Lady Aelesia's journal, but, she utilized the remaining time for target practice instead.
Soon after entering the castle she ran into the Scribe. She asked him to instruct the servants to fill her tub with warm water and some of the rose scented liquid soap made by Mortianna. He agreed and dutifully left to carry out the task.
She turned and headed down the corridor toward the stairwell and saw Guy of Gisborne coming out of the Council Quarters.
"Good evening, Lady Rhiannon." Guy greeted with a friendly nod.
"Good evening, Sir Guy." Rhiannon smiled.
"Are you quite yourself?" Guy asked, curiously.
"Why, yes. I should say I am." she smiled, then she stood on her toes to look past Guy's shoulders into the meeting room behind him. "Where's George? Is he in there, Guy?" Rhiannon asked.
"He's occupied elsewhere for the moment, Milady." Gisborne replied evasively then returned to his original point. "Are you sure you're well? You look like you might have a fever or something. Your colour is flushed, and sweat is beading on your skin." he observed, narrowing his dark eyes.
"It was rather warm today. I think I should've chosen a lighter weave gown to wear in the gardens when I was outside, reading." Rhiannon lied.
"Hmm… Perhaps that's true." Gisborne said, noting she was still carrying her book, and wearing her cape. The sun was nearly set. Why would she be reading in fading sunlight, he wondered?
"Is he in the Office then?" Rhiannon pressed.
"Whom?"
"Your cousin. My betrothed!" Rhiannon sighed.
"He left with his new recruit of the Black Knights. They went to meet two other Knights who are out on assignment. It's all part of the active investigation we're currently working on." Guy explained.
"Oh. I see." Rhiannon murmured.
"I expect him to arrive in the next couple of hours or so." Guy added.
"Very well. Thank you, Guy." Rhiannon smiled.
"You best put your feet up, Milady. You look like you could use a rest." Guy suggested.
"Indeed. I believe I will." Rhiannon said.
They bid good evening and went their separate ways.
The Sheriff had just put his son down in the cradle, following yet another feeding. He had burped the child as Lady Margaret had shown him earlier, then held him for awhile before the boy soon began to get sleepy.
It was just over two hours past dusk, when Lady Margaret arrived to the child's room to inform the Sheriff that the work was completed by Richard. He bent down into the cradle and kissed his son's cheek. Nottingham bid him farewell for now, then grabbed his surcoat which he had tossed on a chair, on the way toward the door of the boy's room.
He was pleased when he was shown the original sketch and the copies of the drawing Richard had penned.
"Well done, Richard. That is exactly what he looks like." the Sheriff nodded.
"Dear God. Seriously, Milord? The bloke really looks like… that?" Richard asked, nodding to the sketches, still rather stunned. "Forgive me for repeating the question, but, I'm rather stunned, truthfully."
Richard honestly had thought Ancel was making up the man's features, to lead the Sheriff and the search team away from the real outlaw — whom Richard guessed was at least as regular looking as Ancel.
"Yes. From what I know of the stumpy bloke, it looks perfect." Nottingham said. "However, there's really only one opinion here that matters, and it isn't mine." he said, then addressed his newest recruit. "What say you, Ancel? What do you think of them? Take a good look at them, both of you lads. Make sure nothing is missed on any of the copies. It's imperative we get this right." he said, firmly to both of the men.
"They're exact, Milord. I see nothing missed on any copy. Officer Richard captured the man perfectly." Ancel agreed with a nod.
"Thank you. I'm glad I could be of assistance in the matter." Richard nodded as he passed the drawings to the Sheriff.
Nottingham rolled the copies and placed them safely in the pocket of his surcoat. He passed the original drawing back to Richard.
"Yes, these drawings shall greatly assist us, I'm certain. Keep this with you, lad. You and Nigel are to get familiar with that… unfortunate face you just laboured on. Let us go back outside to speak more on the matter now. I need to speak to Nigel, as well." Nottingham said.
"Indeed, Milord Sheriff." Richard nodded.
"Very well, Milord." Ancel agreed.
The men followed him out of the front door and rejoined Nigel outside. The sky was dark now. The Sheriff sighed. The welcome warm breezes that were present earlier this day had disappeared completely, changed to crisp autumn winds. The moon was waxing, nearly full. He was grateful for the light it provided. It would make the journey back to Nottingham Castle easier.
Richard showed the original drawing to Nigel.
Nigel gasped, and the Sheriff spoke.
"Study that very well, Nigel. You both are to watch for any sign of this unfortunate looking man." Nottingham said, addressing them both while folding his arms.
"Right. And, if we see him? Do we apprehend him, or — " Nigel was cut off.
"You get that bastard, restrain him, and one of you bring him to me immediately. You do whatever you deem necessary to get him into your custody and to my castle at once." the Sheriff said with a sneer.
"Very well, Milord. Are you expecting he might show here?" Richard asked.
"This fool has a plan in motion to murder my lady. That's why I want the bastard. If he knew about the… relative staying here at Sir Gisborne's manor, he'd be all over the place like flies on a corpse. Just get familiar with that face in the sketch and study it well." Nottingham said firmly.
"Very well, Milord. Hope I don't have nightmares, though…" Nigel sighed.
"We will study it and be on the lookout for him." a beat. "How tall is the man?" Richard asked.
"Short bloke. Damn near as round as he is tall. He resembles a tree stump." Nottingham sighed.
"Sounds like he'll be easy to spot." Nigel nodded.
"Yes. Sort of like a stubbed toe, evidently." Richard remarked with a smirk, looking at Ancel.
"Indeed." Ancel nodded, with a knowing grin. He looked to the Sheriff. "I'll let you finish with your Officers, Milord." he nodded then walked down the path toward the horses.
Once Ancel was out of earshot, Nottingham addressed Officers Richard and Nigel.
"Don't lose that sketch, and be vigilant. Make sure you relieve each other for sleep breaks at night. I want you both rested, but, if one of you sees the man we're after while the other is resting, wake the one who is resting. The man is unhinged. Handle him as a team. Do not give him a moment's opportunity to breech the entrance to this manor. Are we clear, men?" Nottingham said sternly.
"Clear as a crystal ball, Milord." Nigel said. "It shall be done."
"Understood, Milord. Very well." Richard nodded. "Do you honestly believe he'd think to come here, Milord? Only trusted persons know of your… relative." Richard asked quietly.
"This bastard approached my Blacksmith — you know him. Robert Wordsworth. His wife, Isabelle was here recently, caring for… my relative. The wanted bloke was trying to commission a Spanish steel blade for a sword from him! There's another witness — two other witnesses since Isabelle was present, who can verify the man has murderous intent. Ancel is the other witness, and now, the Wordsworths' story adds weight to Ancel's." he said to both of the men with his eyebrow quirked, knowingly.
He wouldn't have shared that lead with Ancel present. Until he received word that his new recruit was confirmed to be legitimate, he wouldn't taint the investigation by oversharing information with him.
"Aye. Ominous, for sure. Let us hope he never hears about your relative, but, if he should present himself we'll get him, Milord. He will get nowhere near your relative." Nigel assured him.
"Good —" the Sheriff was interrupted.
"Milord, if I might ask, we never did find out how the prisoners we dragged back here from the County of York came to be… working for you, and trusted carers for… your relative?" Richard asked.
The Sheriff narrowed his amber hazel eyes upon him. They glowed by the light of the torches burning nearby. He looked downcast a moment, sighed, then focused his eyes on both of the men.
"I'll just give you the cliff notes, since I must be on my way, but, I don't mind telling you. I'm surprised Robert didn't mention it to you both…" Nottingham began.
Both of his Officers nodded, curious what the Sheriff was about to share.
"It turns out Robert is my betrothed's eldest brother. He was presumed dead, but, that was a clever ruse on his part to protect my lady — from me." he hinted as his left eyebrow shot north.
Both men were stunned. The Sheriff had their full attention.
"Suffice to say, my soon to be brother in law was one in Locksley's band of outlaws. He was more a background player, as it turns out. Anyway, the short of it is, when I discovered he is, in fact, my lady's brother, the execution was aborted immediately. Both he and Isabelle were given special dispensation and pardoned of all charges." Nottingham stated.
The men looked at one another briefly, aghast at what their Sheriff had just told them. This was quite out of character for him. They turned back to face Nottingham.
"With all due respect, Milord Sheriff, do you trust him? Robert, I mean. Since he was one of Hood's men, do you trust him around… the wee lad?" Richard asked pointedly, whispering the last three words.
"Yes. He did what he did to survive. A clever, decent sort, who is my relative's uncle. He's a good blacksmith, but, he's a bit too astute to stick with working with his hands for the rest of his life, if you get my meaning." the Sheriff said with a knowing glance.
"Indeed." Nigel nodded. "He is, Milord, and he's very good to… your relative. Both he and his wife are."
"Aye. I've noticed that about him, as well. That's partly why I asked. The more I spoke with him the more I felt regret that he was once our prisoner." Richard admitted.
"Indeed. He and his wife are family. I don't need to say this, but, I'm reminding you that you shall extend the same respect to Robert and Isabelle Wordsworth that you show me." Nottingham said firmly, addressing both men.
"Affirmative, Milord Sheriff. It shall be done." Nigel said.
"Yes, Milord. Very well." Richard nodded.
"Good. Now, be watchful of this man we're after. I say to you once more he is behaving madly, yet he has a plan. And, what will you do if you see him?" he challenged them, suddenly.
"If one of us spots him when we're alone, we wake the other, then we capture the funny looking bloke. We detain him — " Nigel was cut off.
"And then one of us will bring him to you immediately. The other of us will be guarding this manor, and protecting your relative, Milord." Richard said.
"Precisely lads. Well done. This is why you were chosen to guard my… son." Nottingham said softly. "You're both trustworthy, clever, and skilled… I shall bid you goodnight. We best be on our way now. It shall be late when we arrive back to the castle." Nottingham said.
The men wished the Sheriff a safe journey, and promised again to follow his orders.
The lustre of the opaline, soft white light of the moon provided ample light as the Sheriff and his new recruit made their way down the narrow path from Gisborne's manor. When they reached the main road toward Nottingham they slowed their horses to a cantor for a mile or two. The wind was colder now, and a heavy dampness portended autumn rain on the way, likely on the morrow. It was at this juncture they took a moment to speak.
."I appreciate your role in helping us with the drawings, Ancel." Nottingham said.
Ancel nodded his gratitude. After a few moments passed he added, "They're good men, Milord. Richard is a stroke of luck, truth be told. He could easily make a good living of his artistic talent. I can already tell he's a good investigator, too. He had many pointed questions for me. We're very fortunate to have him. He's invaluable." Ancel said.
The Sheriff glanced to his left at Ancel, who rode his horse beside him, with his left eyebrow quirked curiously.
The moonlight reflecting upon his raven hair created soft blue dances of light on his shiny, tousled waves. The silver studs on both of their garb shone like diamonds, while catching the light.
"Yes. We are lucky to have him." the Sheriff agreed. He noticed Ancel's use of the word "we" and that it showed he considered himself part of a team. "How are you liking it so far? Is being a part of the Black. Knights everything you hoped?"
"It's good, Milord. Yes, it's how I imagined it would be. They are good men, Sir." Ancel nodded.
"Yes. Each have something valuable to bring to the table. There were only two in the past who didn't measure up, and that's because they made grave mistakes and failed miserably. They were… dealt with accordingly." the Sheriff hinted.
"I see. So… this doesn't happen often?" Ancel tentatively asked.
"No. Both of them freed criminals, Ancel. One was Robin of Locksley; that was three years ago. The other was in August. The criminal was even worse than Locksley ever was" a beat. "Did you hear about that loathsome man who was responsible for the murders of twenty nine maidens in all, in this and two other counties north of here? That was the other bastard who was freed by my incompetent Knight." Nottingham sighed.
"Yes, I did hear about that, Milord. Shameful." Ancel said.
"Because of the actions of that Knight, the vile leper went on to kill another two maidens in the north. He then kidnapped and was preparing to do the same to the guard's own grieving bride to be! It would have been thirty two dead women, Ancel, but, myself and my men arrived in time in two cases to stop any further harm from happening." a beat. "One of those women was the Knight's bride to be. One was Lady Gisborne. The other was my bride to be."
Ancel shook his head, aghast at what he was hearing.
"Surely you can imagine why the Knight who freed him when the bloke was held in the dungeon for kidnapping and harming my lady, and killing twenty seven other maidens — needed to be disciplined for his actions? It was because he freed the prisoner that after he was hung, his own betrothed was the last of the maidens to be kidnapped." the Sheriff said knowingly, his eyebrow quirked.
"Aye. I understand, Milord." Ancel nodded.
"The one who failed me three years ago had an opportunity to stop Locksley, but instead, Hood got away and managed to steal a wagon load more gold, and valuables from every traveller passing through Sherwood on the Great North Way. Plus, Hood damn near blew up the Village Square and parts of Nottingham Castle. Nobody in my militia has ever failed me, or the community, as horribly as those two former Knights did. In fact, none of my men have even come close." the Sheriff said firmly.
"Understood. But… was Robin Hood really an outlaw?" Ancel pondered.
"Some disagree. They fall for that 'steal from the rich to give to the poor' game of his and have romanticized him into some sort of legend. Stealing is stealing." Nottingham said with a snarl.
"Has that time affected you in your role, if you don't mind my asking?" Ancel asked.
"Yes. I can't really explain it, but, after he was killed it didn't take long for me to note the unsatisfactory victory. All of my plans dissolved at that moment. He was an amusing, though irritating adversary. After I killed him, I saw everything with new eyes after a time. That's all I will say about that… except, that I haven't gone soft. I still exert power when need be." Nottingham warned with a quirk of his brow.
"I see." Ancel nodded.
"Let's pick up the pace, lad. You need rest, and I need to see my lady before I get mine." Nottingham said.
They urged their horses into a gallop and continued toward Nottingham.
It was late when he entered into the den of his private chambers. He doffed his gauntlets and surcoat and continued into the bedchamber. The torches ensconced on either side of the fireplace were lit along with the fading fire in the fireplace, creating soft orange light in the chamber. Lady Rhiannon was semi reclined and nestled under blankets, dressed in her velvet dressing gown. Her dampened hair lay flat against the pillows. He went over to her side of the bed to approach her and his boot made contact with her large book that had fallen to the floor, obviously when she fell asleep. The book had fallen closed. He picked it up and moved it to the table beside the bed.
Rhiannon opened her eyes when she heard the sound of the book being placed on the table beside her.
"Oh, good. You're back." Rhiannon smiled.
"I didn't intend to wake you, my angel. I'm afraid you lost your place in your book, though. It had fallen to the floor." the Sheriff said.
"Was it open?" Rhiannon asked, a little too urgently.
"No." he said, a little bewildered.
"Oh. Alright… " she murmured.
"My angel, what's with all of the clothes? Aren't you a little overdressed?" Nottingham asked, as he removed his doublet and his boots.
"When you're not here it's rather cold. Can't you feel that chill wind coming through the window, George?"
"Not really. It might be because I just spent a few hours riding in that wind, however." he said. "I'm here now, my lady. You shall be cold no more." he smiled as he bent down to kiss her cheek. Then he walked back around the bed and got settled under the bed linens.
She inched closer to him to absorb his body heat. He responded by placing his arm around her while he reclined against feather pillows.
"I missed you, my love." Rhiannon whispered as she nestled into him.
"Me too, my angel." he murmured softly.
She held him and kissed his neck.
"My lady… " he murmured. "Don't start something we can't finish." he whispered, closing his eyes and sighing.
"It will be alright, my love. Everything has been fine." Rhiannon said.
"Yes, I know. I don't want to stir things up, however." he muttered.
"Have you lost interest?" she asked.
"You know that's not true, Rhiannon." he turned on his right side to face her, leaning his head on his hand with his elbow on the pillow, supporting him. "I want you, lady. You have no idea. I never imagined myself marrying any woman, but, I #will marry you. It's not about you, my angel. Well, maybe to a degree… I worry about the child, and about you in the process of giving birth to our child. I think those pains you had gave me pause." the Sheriff explained.
"My love, intimacy surely can't be the cause of that. We could do this. Just… be gentle." Rhiannon suggested.
"Don't tempt me, lady." Nottingham said.
"Sugar, I haven't even gotten started." she smiled.
"You don't need to, my angel. Just looking in your eyes provides all the temptation I need." he commented with a slight smirk.
"Exactly. I feel the same when I look into yours." Rhiannon admitted. "My love, we mustn't create distance between us. This is how couples fail. You know I'd do anything to keep you satisfied."
"I do. But, understand that you and our child's safety are my top priority. I can wait, my angel." he said.
What is she talking about -- "we mustn't create distance"? What the hell has she been doing these last two days? The sentry said she was gone all day. She returned to the private chambers at dusk! The Sheriff sighed.
"Wait? For how long, George? The child isn't due for months. We shall both be mad by then." she whispered.
"We won't need to wait that long. Just until we know our child will survive if you should do that true labour thing — you know, that women do before giving… you know… " he muttered.
"That's several months away, George. At least five. Are you serious right now?" Rhiannon asked as she suddenly sat up. "You honestly want to wait until April of next year before we are close again?" Rhiannon asked, shaking her head.
"Oh. I didn't realize it would be that long of an interval, my lady." Nottingham said with a quirk of his brow. He arose to a seated position to face her.
"The child needs to be fairly close to the expected date, my sweet. Infants that are too small just don't stand a chance. Prior to April, our wee boy will be too small." Rhiannon said.
"Hmm… this presents a dilemma. Besides the fact that the child could be a girl. How shall we solve this, lady?" he asked.
"We either take it slow if we try, or we abstain for five whole months, George." Rhiannon said with a sigh.
"That's a long time, especially when we're — " he was interrupted.
"About to be wed in just a little over a fortnight — on your birthday, my love. The idea of not being close to you on the day of those two very auspicious occasions saddens me, truthfully." Rhiannon said. "Our wedding day shall only happen once." she reminded him.
"Indeed, my angel." the Sheriff whispered as he reached for her hand. His face softened as he looked into her eyes.
"You're right, my lady. I won't take that from you — from us. Let's refrain until the night of our wedding. I'll give you all of me then, but, I will be gentle. I have to be, you understand?" a beat. "Then we can renegotiate after that." the Sheriff said.
"Alright. That sounds fair. Except, what will we be renegotiating?" she had an inkling, but, that couldn't be right.
"An appropriate time for our next… encounter. Maybe if we just lessen the frequency it will work." the Sheriff mused as he rubbed his chin, and looked toward the fireplace.
"If you look at it like a mathematical problem, all of the passion shall be lost. Our wedding night is a special occasion. It will also be our first celebration of your birthday. I missed it last year because of that vile bastard who took me by force." Rhiannon took a breath then continued. "After we're wed it shouldn't be scheduled. Spontaneity is key, sugar. Let's not become rigid and boring. That is # not us. That is what attracted each of us to the other."
"You're right, my lady. It's not us, but, maybe it shou — " Nottingham was cut off again.
"If we become rigid and boring something is going to go wrong with us. I just know it." Rhiannon said firmly.
"We could be rigid with the timing for just a few short months, my angel. We shall never be boring, however." he grinned.
"I don't like rigid, George. Neither do you." Rhiannon stated.
"Damn you, lady." Nottingham sighed.
"You know it's true." she said, folding her arms.
"Of course, I do. It's not about any of that, though. It's about keeping our child alive, and keeping you healthy so you'll survive the ordeal. That's really all I care about, frankly." the Sheriff said.
Rhiannon smiled. "I know you do, my love. But — "
"Listen, we won't plan it down to a specific date, but, a week. That will leave room for spontaneity. Fair?" he asked.
"Yes. That sounds agreeable, my love." Rhiannon said. She got back under the covers and lay on her side facing him.
He resumed his former position, looking into her aqua green eyes as he spoke.
"We can do this, my angel. We've been through worse than this. Honestly, I can wait." he attempted to reassure her.
"Maybe I can't wait. I need you, my love. I need to feel close to you. Our wedding night feels far away." Rhiannon whispered.
"We can be selfish in other areas, but, we can't be with this." he reached over with his left hand to gently grasp her arm. "Listen, you need to stick around. Besides the unimaginable grief, I cannot raise babies on my — "
"Wait… babies? What? There better be only one happening, George. Do not jinx us with two!" Rhiannon huffed.
"Well, with the way fortunes have been going lately, twins wouldn't surprise me." the Sheriff muttered.
He looked downcast and frowned, attempting to conceal his disappointment at her comment.
Understood." she said.
"My love, it will be alright. We'll get through this, and it doesn't mean you need to stay away from me. I'm not going anywhere, and I need you next to me when I retire for the night." he said.
"I never thought carrying a child would be so hard. I knew it would be difficult giving birth, and probably every day after, but, this part? This is ludicrous." Rhiannon sighed.
"You're doing it again." the Sheriff sighed.
"Doing what, exactly?" she asked.
"That's the thing, my angel. You do it without even knowing. Tempting me, I mean." he said.
"How would talking about carrying a child and being stuck with it forever be tempting in any way?" Rhiannon asked.
Why was she behaving so strangely of late? He would hide it, but, inside he was astonished at how she just characterized parenthood. Should he be having a word with Thomas Crumwell about this? He wondered.
"George?"
He jolted out of his thoughts and responded.
"Maybe it's because you said it was hard. Normally I wouldn't even notice. But we've been… a little frustrated lately, if you understand my meaning." he said with a quirk of his brow.
"Hmm… and there it is. Now, you're doing it, too." Rhiannon said.
"Doing what, my lady? I don't recall doing anything?"
"It's the same. You don't even realize it yourself, and why would you? It's just a mindless facial expression, but, when you do it, I melt every time." Rhiannon admitted.
"I'm so confused. What did I do, my lady?" the Sheriff asked.
"I don't know if I should say. You might stop doing it… " she said.
He sighed and narrowed his eyes upon hers, expecting an answer.
"When you raise your eyebrow. It seems that to you it's as natural as breathing. I don't know why, but, when you do it, it just sends me… somewhere. Lots of people do it, but, I never took notice until you." Rhiannon explained.
The Sheriff chuckled.
"You're right. A lot of people do that; and it's true, I don't really notice when I do it, it just happens. Interesting it would have that sort of effect on you, my lady." he smiled.
"After all this time, you're still all I see." Rhiannon said.
"My thought, as well, my lady. Put me in a room with you and many other beautiful women, and the only one I would notice is you." the Sheriff sighed. "Damn it, Rhiannon. How shall we do this? You know I need you, right?"
"Yes. As I need you." she whispered.
"No. I can't be selfish." he said, his eyes downcast.
"Would it be selfish, my love?" she asked.
"Yes, if I could cause harm. Look what happened the time before when you started having pains and needed treatment from the medicus? We were intimate the night before." Nottingham said. He arose from the bed and grabbed his fur trimmed robe.
"That was pure coincidence, George. I'm sure of it. I'm not arguing, though." Rhiannon sighed. She sat up and leaned against the pillows. I will not beg. I will never beg for affection from anyone! "Where are you going?"
"Not far, my angel. I'm going to the den to grab the decanter of brandy. It's been a long day, I'm still wide awake, and a libation is in order. Shall I grab you a goblet?" Nottingham asked as wrapped the robe around him and fastened it.
"Yes, my sweet. I'd like that very much. I'm not tired, either. I wouldn't have fallen asleep earlier if you were here." she smiled.
He smiled back at her then left the room.
Moments later they were seated on the bed, sipping brandy from their goblets. The wind coming through the window picked up. It was feeling more chill than when Nottingham was riding home, which wasn't that long ago. He set the goblet on the table beside the bed and arose from the bed. He went over to the fireplace, adding more kindling and was preparing to place another log on it.
"George?" Rhiannon asked as she took another swallow of brandy.
"Yes, my lady?" he turned to look at her while poking embers at the kindling in an attempt to get it going again.
"Do you… think we're too familiar with one another?" she asked.
"What?" he asked, slowly.
"Is this what happens to people? I mean, come on now. How can people spend their entire lives with one person? It's longer than you'd spend with your own immediate family. I mean… how do they not bore of it? And if not, how do they keep their desire alive?" Rhiannon mused.
The Sheriff paused what he was doing for a moment to turn and face her.
"Rhiannon, are you bored? You're not sounding like someone eager to be wed, or even have children, from what I've been hearing tonight." Nottingham asked with his eyebrow quirked. Then a thought came to him. "Wait… is this the reason for the bizarre questions about my family? Have you discovered something about them, or me, that has raised doubts? Or… what's going on, my dear?" he asked pointedly. His eyes narrowed on hers, suspiciously.
"No, I'm not bored, George. I do worry about you boring of me, however. You've seen me at my worst on several occasions. You've had to tolerate me being in a weakened, infirm state many times. That is not me. I've never been laid up with anything a day in my life until this damn year. I wasn't implying anything." Rhiannon stated.
"You're sure?" he asked.
"I am. It was a genuine question. I don't ever want to bore you." Rhiannon said.
"My lady, you never have and never will bore me. You were not weak and infirm on those occasions you mention. You were injured by other people! And the last time… Hmm. I'm responsible and caused labour to damn near start; so that was caused by injury, too, if we want to get semantic about it." Nottingham said with a sigh, then turned to urge the glowing embers in the fireplace to take form into flames.
"My love, we've talked about this. You did not cause those cursed pains to start. If you're to blame then so am I. I wanted it just as much as you." a beat. "I still do…" she whispered.
"Damn the interminable rain! The bleeding kindling and the log are damp." the Sheriff sighed as he continued to urge the fire to start. "What was that last part you said, my dear? Sorry…" he nodded to the smoky mess in the fireplace, rolling his eyes.
"It's very cool now, the night air." Rhiannon said. It wasn't really a lie, but, she didn't wish to repeat what she'd said. She would never beg.
"Yes. I'm working on it, my dear. It will take longer than usual, but, I'll get it going." Nottingham said.
She got up from the bed and grabbed his goblet.
Nottingham had just managed to see tiny flames forming in the kindling. He was rearranging the twigs to encourage more of it to light, when he was startled by her sudden presence beside him. He stood and faced her.
"You move like a wraith." Nottingham remarked.
"I brought your brandy, my love. I thought you might like a sip. You've been working up a thirst, I'm sure." Rhiannon said as she passed the goblet to him.
"Indeed." he smiled, taking the goblet from her. He took a generous swig, then looked back at her. "You know me so well. Understand me like no other woman has. If that's familiarity, my dear, I'm taking it. There's your answer." the Sheriff said.
"Right. So, you're not bored?" she asked.
"No. Boredom has nothing to do with it. I only want you, my lady, and I'd also greatly appreciate if you could stick around for many years to come. Your child and I shall need you, if the child survives at all." Nottingham said, softly. He exhaled a sigh then continued. "This is what I think about, Rhiannon. You have your worries, well, that is mine. This is a thought that occupies each day, and before falling asleep."
Rhiannon shook her head slowly. "Incredible. You have more heart than I. It is I who is the selfish one." Rhiannon said.
"In what way, my dear?"
"I don't have those thoughts at all." Rhiannon admitted.
"Not once?" Nottingham asked, rather surprised.
"A few times the thought occurred to me, but, I pushed it out of my mind. I had to. It does me no good to think on that, George. I have a job to do come spring, and I need to stay strong." Rhiannon said.
"I understand. And you need to understand my concern." Nottingham said.
"Yes. I do. It's frustrating, but, I do." Rhiannon sighed.
He rested the poker against the wall and went to her.
"Rhiannon, what brought on these strange questions about familiarity, and talk of being… what was it, again?" he wondered as he stroked his beard, thoughtfully. "Ah, yes. Rigid and boring." he said as he stared into her eyes.
"Hmm. Not sure if I should say. It might put you in a right state," Rhiannon hinted, sipping the brandy from her goblet.
"From the top. Let's hear it." Nottingham said, with a beckoning gesture of his right hand.
"Alright, but, don't get cross." Rhiannon said.
He sighed and shook his head slightly.
"Celestria told me something rather appall — " she was cut off.
"Damn you, lady. Why in the devil did you have to drop the name of that machinating, wretched little bit — whore?" the Sheriff spat, hoping his lady didn't catch what he was about to call the consort.
Rhiannon noticed immediately. Oh, go ahead… Say it, George. You're not wrong. She is a bitch. She damn near succeeded in keeping us apart! She looked at him curiously, then effectively concealed a smirk.
"I asked you not to get cross. Honestly, there's a point to this, if you could just let me finish, George." she sighed.
"Astonish me." the Sheriff challenged, folding his arms.
"She told me that some wives paid the consorts to service their husbands, or if they knew about their husbands they didn't care, because they were involved in clandestine, scandalous encounters, too." a beat. "That horrified me, George. I never want to get to the point where I couldn't care less if you were getting satisfied elsewhere. That's not living. If a woman doesn't care if her husband is intimate with another woman or not, what even is the point of chaining herself to him in the first place?" Rhiannon asked.
She walked over to the fireplace, grabbed the poker and began to arrange the kindling.
"Interesting way of describing marriage, my dear." he said as he walked closer to her and took the poker from her. "Sit. You are doing far too much. I need you to sit still for once, and perhaps calm down." Nottingham sighed.
"I am calm, George; but, I'd rather feel rage than nothing at all, because at least it would mean it was borne out of affection for you." Rhiannon explained as she seated herself in a chair near to the fireplace.
"Agreed. That still doesn't tell me how we got onto this insane topic." Nottingham said, shaking his head.
"We can't ever be like those people, George. We must never become people like that." she stated.
"Who said we were headed in that direction?" Nottingham asked.
"It wasn't spoken of, but, that is what I thought." Rhiannon said.
"I see." he nodded, then turned back toward the fireplace. Small flames were finally reappearing. He added some kindling to it then turned his head toward her before he continued. "It's finally working. You see how I had to work at it to get this fire going, Rhiannon?" Nottingham asked.
"Yes. Of course." Rhiannon said, bewildered by the question.
"I don't have to work at it to feel the fire in me when I'm near to you. It's just there… from the moment we met." the Sheriff said.
"Oh, sugar… " Rhiannon sighed.
"Rhiannon, I don't want to hear another word about being too familiar, being boring, rigid, overprotective, being "chained" to me, and "stuck with" our children forever." Nottingham sighed, narrowing his amber hazel eyes upon hers. "Look, if you're not ready for marriage, just say so. I'm not forcing you to. Just give me the child when the time comes. You can be free, Rhiannon. All you have to do is say the word."
She couldn't believe what he'd just said, but, she'd never let him know that. At least… not now.
"That's not what I want. I want you by my side, helping me to raise our child. Giving him something we lacked — a complete family with both of his parents." Rhiannon said stoically, as she bit her lip unobtrusively to control the tear that threatened to make its presence known.
"Then you must trust me, my lady." Nottingham said simply.
"Very well." Rhiannon nodded. Then she looked downcast and softly sighed.
A tear fell from her eye and onto her lap. Damn it, George! Why would you say such a thing?
"Good." Nottingham said.
The fire was burning well now. The Sheriff added a couple of small logs to it.
"You mentioned "children" again, rather than just the one we're currently having." Rhiannon pointed out. She wiped the tears away quickly since he was occupied.
"Yes. Because you were speaking in terms of a spurious future — where we despise each other, apparently." Nottingham sighed.
"I see." Rhiannon said.
"It's not going to happen, my lady. That won't be us. Don't let your mind go to that place. That will never be us." the Sheriff said firmly.
"Alright." Rhiannon said.
Nottingham was satisfied with the fire at last. He set the poker against the wall beside the fireplace, grabbed his goblet off the mantle, and took a swig before adding, "Perhaps you need a mindless hobby or something, my angel? You're seriously overthinking damn near everything of late. You're going to make yourself sick pondering these one in a million scenarios repeatedly." Nottingham sighed.
"Really?" Rhiannon asked, seriously.
We may require a little chat later about that flippant comment, you just made, George. I'm not sure I possess that kind of energy right now, but… God! You were seriously that nonchalant about setting me free and taking our child? What? Rhiannon sighed. She was starting to wonder if she was in a bad dream, like being caught in some fantastically strange new reality?
"Yes. It's a little melodramatic at times." Nottingham muttered softly.
He headed over toward the bed.
"Pardon, my love?" Rhiannon asked.
"It is nothing, my dear. Join me now and warm yourself." Nottingham smiled as he semi reclined on the bed, holding his goblet.
Lady Rhiannon semi smiled and arose from her chair. She took her goblet with her and joined him on the bed. She leaned into him and looked straight ahead at the blazing fire.
"It's brilliant, George. Thank you for that." Rhiannon said to him, nodding to the fire burning before them.
"Indeed, my dear. I will not have you get chilled. Besides, there is no need to thank me. It's a basic skill." he said, sipping his brandy.
"True. Though, not everyone is good at it." Rhiannon said.
"Shameful." Nottingham remarked.
"You must be getting tired, my sweet. Close your eyes. We don't need to speak any longer." she said, still watching the fire, mesmerized by the dancing flames.
"I'm fine right now, my dear. I shall sleep soon, probably when I finish the brandy." he explained, though he wondered how much of what he just said was heard.
"Good." she muttered, still staring into the flames that were licking their way through the wood. She loved watching, and was enticed by the fragrance emitted from the wood burning.
Don't try to be sweet to me now, George. You were willing to throw me away, and take my baby! What… or whom has gotten into you?
"Rhiannon?" he asked.
"Oh, right." Rhiannon said as she turned to face him. "Forgive me. The flames are enchanting to watch. It has always fascinated me. So, you said you'll sleep soon, but not now. You've had such a long day, though." Rhiannon said.
"And so have you, my dear." Nottingham said.
"I wasn't kept busy like you." she said.
"Sure, you were." he said, startling her.
Rhiannon regarded him curiously, then looked downcast.
"You are kept busy carrying our child. Thomas says that fatigue is common. It is you who needs rest, my lady." Nottingham said.
"I will." she promised.
"Just look after yourself, my lady. Take every opportunity to rest. You take care of yourself, and let me take care of you, too." he said.
"I do look after myself. And yes, you can take care of me in seventeen nights hence — on the night of our wedding." Rhiannon quipped.
If I deem you worthy, George. We'regoing to speak about this on the morrow, and you had better come up with something spectacular to right the wrong you just cut me with.
"Point taken, but, there's more to taking care of a person than just that." he said.
"Indeed." Rhiannon said with a stifled yawn.
She took a sip of brandy then set the goblet on the table beside her.
"Sleep, my lady. You need rest. Come." Nottingham whispered as he placed his arm around her.
Rhiannon nestled in close to him. She looked up at him and gave a halfhearted smile. Her eyes were blinking frequently when she spoke.
"Forgive me. I am so sleepy just now. I shall see you in my dreams"
He bristled a bit at her phrasing. In his mind, it implied she didn't expect to awaken.
"You will see me when you wake, my angel." the Sheriff assured her.
"Alright… " Rhiannon whispered.
She extricated herself from his embrace, turned onto her back and was soon sound asleep.
After a time, when he was certain his lady would not waken, Nottingham arose softly out of the bed so as not to disturb her. He topped up his goblet of brandy and took it with him as he crept toward the door, careful to conceal the sound of his boots on the marble floor.
Soon he was walking down the steep, circular stairwell that had an entrance from his den, into his counsel, Mortianna's apothecary. He called out to her as he made entry.
"My child. I thought you'd be sleeping. Have you come to inquire about — " the diminutive crone was interrupted.
"Foxglove. Yes. I'm quite intrigued, and I'm considering it. I need to know more, though, Mortianna." he said as he sipped of his brandy.
"Very well. Come." Mortianna beckoned for him to follow her.
Her black taffeta skirts rustled on the floor as she led him toward the table in the apothecary.
"How do I use it, Madam? What is the quantity needed? And, are there any special considerations for myself? Should I avoid touching it, for instance?" the Sheriff pressed as he raised his eyebrow.
"Yes, I would… I began by grinding it into a very fine powder, Milord. You shall only need a small measure to achieve the result you seek. A half dram should do it. I have that exact amount in a small vial for you when you're ready." the witch took a sip of batwing tea from her cup then added, "I recommend avoiding touching it. It is a powerful drug, my child."
"I see. How shall I administer it, Madam?"
"The same manner in which she tainted your brandy, Milord. She needs to ingest it somehow." a beat. "Just one more word of caution: don't get near to her face after she takes it. Do not let her try to kiss you. There's too much risk."
He furrowed his brow and took a generous swig of brandy from his goblet. Nottingham stared a moment before responding.
"Sounds quite dangerous." Nottingham commented, failing to conceal a wicked grin forming. A thought came to him then and his expression straightened immediately. "I'm going to get it from you when I depart for this event. I don't wish to take it now. I don't want Lady Rhiannon coming in contact with it. If she finds it she might surmise it's a version of face paint potion that Madam Oberon makes." he said with a shake of his head.
"Why would the lady come to that conclusion?" Mortianna asked, curiously.
"It's a long story, but, my lady was introduced to the face paint stuff recently and she liked it. It's similar to what consorts apply to their faces, except not as severe, thank Zeus." Nottingham sighed.
Mortianna sipped of the batwing tea, eyeing him curiously.
"She may think it's one of her Yule gifts if she finds it. It will probably resemble those creams and powders she had on her face." he explained.
"Yes. Lady Rhiannon has always been too curious for her own good." the witch nodded. "A wise decision, Milord. We mustn't risk Lady Rhiannon getting near to it."
"Precisely. Will this poison leave any signs?"
"Not a trace." Mortianna said. She paused a moment or two before adding, "Would it matter?"
"No, but, I was curious. Now, is it still in powder form? If so, it's going to be a bitch to dissolve it."
"No, Milord. It's already been liquified. It will mix well with anything. It's colourless, and odourless. It is almost tasteless, too, but, when mixed with spirits it will be so." the witch assured him.
"Brilliant." Nottingham smiled.
"Just don't come in contact with it, my child. I don't often use foxglove because I don't trust it. It's too dangerous. It makes me a bit anxious working with it, and, besides — ye need me to stick around so I can whip up some Byzantine fire for you. As ye know, I've been labouring on that intermittently for years." she reminded him.
"Very well. I shall heed your warning, Madam. Any further disturbing visions of Lady Rhiannon trapped in a fire?" he asked.
"No, Milord. The vision only came to me once." she shrugged, then followed with a sip of the tea.
"Hopefully, that's a good sign."
"Indeed." Mortianna agreed.
"Very good, Mortianna. I shall see you next as I'm leaving to carry out the task." Nottingham said with a quirk of his brow, knowingly.
"Very well." she nodded.
Later he sat in the chair by the fireplace in the private chamber. He was pleased the plan was in motion now. After everything he'd learned, he was convinced this was the best course of action for the scheming courtesan. She was completely unmanageable now, and the matter needed attention.
The Sheriff sipped at his brandy as he looked over at Lady Rhiannon, sleeping serenely. He was loathed to turn down her affections earlier. All he could think about were the two matters who were a threat to her: Hamon and Celestria. He had several of his men working on the Hamon case, and only he could take care of Celestria. Until he got the necessary task out of the way, he couldn't begin to contemplate intimacy with his betrothed. He was contemplating every move of the unpleasant task before him, for the situation was demanding his immediate attention. The consort's day of reckoning shall happen on the morrow. He spent a few hours thinking on how to execute it perfectly, moving between the chair he was sat on now, and the den outside the private chambers, with a stroll down the corridors all the way out onto the balcony where he recently dined with his lady, and future in-laws.
Nottingham was on his second goblet of brandy, the fire burning well in the fireplace, when Lady Rhiannon awakened. She sat up in bed, pulling her velvet dressing gown closer about her over her shift, for she felt the cold autumn wind blowing in the window more than she felt the heat from the fire.
"George?" Rhiannon hesitated a whisper.
Nottingham turned to his right, surprised to see his lady was awake already. The day had only just changed over. He sat forward in the chair.
"My angel… are you alright?" he asked with concern. It wasn't like her to awaken so soon after falling asleep. Had the pains returned?
"I'm fine. I just woke up thirsty, but, now that I'm awake I feel chill. Anyway, I was about to ask you the same. Have you even slept, George? The bed is cool to touch." Rhiannon pointed out.
"I wasn't ready for sleep, my angel. I had to think on a plan for today's course of action as part of… the investigation that's ongoing." Nottingham sighed.
"I see." Rhiannon nodded.
"What is it you'd like to sip of, my lady? Brandy, or water?"
"I'll get it, my sweet." Rhiannon said as she turned to get out of bed.
"Rhiannon, let me take care of you. Rest now. Is it water you crave, my lady?" he asked.
He arose from the chair, setting the goblet on the mantel above the fireplace, then turned to walk closer to the table where the pitcher of water was kept.
"Yes. Thank you, my love." Rhiannon nodded.
Moments later he passed her the goblet of cool water, then turned to head back to the fireplace.
"Come, my love. You need sleep." Rhiannon urged.
"I will, but first, the fire needs more wood added. I need to get you warm, you're shaking like a leaf — with all of those clothes you're wearing, and the blankets, for the love of — "
"Yes. Thank you, George."
He looked at her suspiciously with a quirk of his brow, then turned to carry out this one last task. He wanted to get a very good fire going so that he could hope to get a few hours of sleep. The Sheriff had a busy day planned.
"You mentioned "today's course of action." Is it Sunday now?" Rhiannon asked.
"Yes, my dear. Only just." he answered as he placed a small log on the fire.
"Oh. That means we have mass to attend, don't we?" Rhiannon sighed, sipping from her goblet.
"I'd forgotten about that. Hmm." the Sheriff said as he turned to face her. "Normally we would make an appearance since we've asked the Bishop to conduct our nuptials, but, you don't look able for that, and I don't have time for it, so we'll — "
"What do you mean you "don't have time for it"? There is no search today. You told me your men were granted a reprieve today." Rhiannon challenged.
"Yes, and a few of us will still be occupied with other things related to it." the Sheriff said. He looked downcast to avoid eye contact.
"Oh. I see." Rhiannon said. "Right. Well, when you have time there's something I need to speak to you about."
"About what? We can talk about it now." Nottingham said.
"No. Not now. It's just a small detail about the wedding."
Satisfied the fire would burn for a good while, Nottingham grabbed his goblet from the mantel and walked toward the bed.
"Good. A perfect topic before sleep, my angel — "
Don't you "my angel" me, George.
"So, lets hear it then. What would you like to talk about, my dear? Let me guess. It won't be the gown as I'm certain Lady Arianna has that covered, knowing her. So, is it the menu for the feast? Flowers? Guest list?" Nottingham asked. He narrowed his eyes then added, "It's not my wardrobe selection, is it?" he sighed.
"No. Nothing like that. Let's talk about it later. I haven't the energy to get into this now." Rhiannon said.
She set the goblet of water on the table beside her then semi reclined against the soft down pillows, pulling the blankets over her.
The Sheriff was astonished. He narrowed his eyes upon her as he quickly got under the bed linens and sat against the pillows.
"You… haven't got the energy." he said slowly. "To mention whatever it is about our wedding? Why is that, my dear? Is it something I'm not going to like?" he said as he folded his arms.
"I'm not certain. That's why I don't have the energy for this right now." she sighed.
Nottingham shook his head slowly as he looked into her eyes. He was trying to read her, but, he was unable to.
My lady, are you even in there? Where have you gone, Rhiannon? You're acting so distant… What is the connection between her sudden interest in the family history, and the sudden disinterest in marriage, nor even motherhood?… It's too late for that attitude, Rhiannon. You're with child -- your second one. If you'd only let me tell you about our --
"George?"
"Right." he sighed.
"Where were you just now? You just looked at me funny for the longest time, but, you didn't speak. You didn't even blink." Rhiannon shuddered. She tried to conceal it, but, failed to do so.
He noticed her physical reaction to her own words. He saw a flash of fear, something he never wanted to see from Rhiannon, of all people. It reminded him of how Lady Marian had regarded him three years past.
"Trying to decide how to say this…" Nottingham hinted.
Rhiannon sighed. "Say what, George?"
"I think I'd feel better about sitting here beside you in this bed if you'd just answer me this: would you rather me sleep in the den, or the guest chamber across the hall right now? Now meaning… well, however long #now is to you." Nottingham asked pointedly.
"No, my love. This is your bed, in your chambers, in your cast — "
"Right. Would you rather me take you back to your manor then? Even though, I don't recommend that at the moment."
"What? No — unless, that's what you want?" Rhiannon asked.
She could feel tears forming again. Damn it!
"No. I don't want you to leave. I just needed to know." he said.
Because if you wanted to go home, sorry to say, but, I can't let you leave. There's a pair of unhinged criminals out there who want you dead… and I can't even tell you, Rhiannon. I cannot risk burdening you with such knowledge. It could put you at risk of labour starting again! Damn it, Rhiannon!
"I don't know why you would think such a thing." she commented.
"I don't want you to leave, but, I'd like my Rhiannon back now." the Sheriff said.
"I never left." she muttered.
"Yes. You did." a beat. "And you know what? Now I don't have the energy for this, my dear. Let's talk about this later today, and you can ask the question about the wedding — as it were." he sighed.
"That's fine. How late is later today — approximately?"
"Probably late afternoon sometime, no later than dusk, I would guess."
"Oh. I see. Very well." Rhiannon nodded.
"My lady?" he whispered as he looked over at her, puzzled by her moods of late.
"Yes, my sweet?"
"You sure you're alright? You're kind of… acting a bit off." Nottingham said.
She opened her eyes and turned her head left, to face him.
"I'm fine, George. We'll talk more later at dusk." Rhiannon said.
"I can't tell if it's a health related thing, a change of heart, or both, to be frank; but, you're definitely off." he said, unblinking.
"Are you trying to be rid of me?" Rhiannon asked pointedly.
"No, Rhiannon. Our childre — child needs us both. I need you, too, but now there's two of us who needs you."
"Well, only one of you needs me right now." she reminded him.
"Sure." he said, absently.
There are still two of us who need you right now, Rhiannon. Why the hell cant you remember? It would help me greatly if you could, believe me.…
"Honestly, my love, I'm feeling fine — "
"No, you're not, my lady. You're bundled up as if you're camping in a snow storm. Other times you're perspiring, your skin is flushed." the Sheriff pointed out.
"Yes, but, I don't feel unwell. Thomas says that some ladies notice the cold more when carrying a child. And, I've been reminded that I've always been this way, I just didn't pay attention to it until lately — when it became difficult to warm my skin." Rhiannon said.
"I see. You sure you don't wish to discuss now whatever is on your mind about the wedding, Rhiannon? You have my undivided attention."
"It's probably better we wait until you come back at dusk. We both need our rest. We'll both be fresh." she said.
"I'm not sure how fresh I'll be by then."
"My love, how are you not tired? You rode a fair distance. Guy said you were out on assignment." Rhiannon said.
"It wasn't too far, my lady. We were following up on a lead. And, I'm wondering what it is you'd like to discuss?" the Sheriff asked.
"It's honestly not pressing, my sweet. We'll speak about it after you're back from whatever it is you'll be up to today." Rhiannon said with a yawn.
"Sleep well, my dear." Nottingham said.
He looked upon her a moment with a quirk of his brow. The old him was inside of him, trying to tell him: This is the reason you wouldn't get involved with them before. Eventually, they start behaving like this.
But, he pushed those thoughts out of his mind. He chose Lady Rhiannon to be his bride because she related to him in myriad ways like no other woman had. He knew she was still inside this strangely hardened shell. He just needed to find a way to crack it to help her emerge from it… if it wasn't too late.
