Celestria opened her eyes the following morning, unsure of her location. She sat up on the soft bed she'd been resting upon and rubbed her eyes, contemplating the matter. She remembered meeting up with Lady Gunilda, and riding behind her on Lady Gunilda's horse. After she dismounted, she began to feel faint, she suspected from her wound bleeding, and wasn't clear on what happened afterward.
She appeared to be in a large room. She could see out of the window that the sky was grey, giving portents of rain. There were candles aglow all about the room. She tried to raise her left arm, but found it painful. It was then she noticed she was bandaged. Just as she was about to call out for Lady Gunilda the door to the room creaked open. Lady Gunilda stood there with a grin upon her face, holding a dead rabbit, its hind legs held firmly in her hand.
"Ah, Good. You're finally awake, I see! Feeling hungry, my dear? I've got a bunch of eggs in a basket out there, as well." Lady Gunilda said, nodding to the room behind her.
"Where… are we?" Celestria asked.
"Funny thing about that. This was my uncle's home. He died recently and bequeathed it to me as his only living relative. I received a missive from his counsel soon after you and I met up in Derbyshire. I was planning to sell the place… we shall see." she shrugged. "That was part of the reason I journeyed here. The other reason was a gut feeling you were in trouble." Gunilda explained.
"Seriously?" Celestria asked, incredulously.
"Why, yes. How fortuitously these matters came together, my dear. Now, you should lie back against those pillows. You lost a bit of blood. I successfully removed the broken arrow from your shoulder. You're stitched up and bandaged. The wound will heal and you'll regain strength in your arm in a few days."
"Thank you, Lady Gunilda." Celestria smiled. "Now, I'm even more grateful our paths crossed."
"Indeed. Oh, one more thing before I go and dress this rabbit. You said last night that a woman shot you with the arrow. Who is she? Do you know her?"
"The Sheriff of Nottingham's betrothed." Celestria said, shaking her head with a frown.
"And, what would prompt her to do that, I wonder?" Lady Gunilda pressed.
"She appeared out of nowhere with another lady. I had some of my things brought to an abandoned manor in the Village. I was planning to make my journey home yesterday, and she and her companion showed up."
"Right. Still awaiting an answer, Celestria. So, she showed up. Randomly, I'm guessing. Then, what provoked her to fire an arrow at you?" Gunilda asked, her eyebrow quirked, curiously.
"I showed her my dagger." Celestria huffed.
"And then, the manor burned, you reported. Is that correct?"
"Yes. There was a man there, too. He set the fire. He wasn't known to either of them, nor myself, for that matter.
"Well, you better hope nothing happened to her. The Sheriff will be out for blood if that's the case. Your blood, no doubt. It's funny how you keep insinuating yourself into his world, my dear."
"Is it?"
"Intriguing. And, it's dangerous. You need to put all of this in your past. At once. No looking back. For now, you're going to remain in this… little cottage. Once you're well enough to travel, we're heading home." Gunilda said, firmly.
"I don't really want to go back there, Lady Gunilda. I just need to get away from… here."
"What you desire is of no consequence at the moment, Celestria. He's going to be looking for you, have no doubt. That is why you're to remain inside this… tiny little manor. We'll figure something out about your future living arrangements, but your actions have changed your course. Now, lay back and rest and I will bring you some nourishment in about an hour. There's a pitcher of soft ale on the table beside you with a cup."
"Very well." Celestria sighed.
"Drink. Rest. I shall return shortly with a tray." Gunilda directed her.
Celestria nodded, and lay back against the pillows.
Lady Rhiannon was seated in a chair near to the window in the bedchamber. She was tired, but unable to sleep. She was dressed in a white shift with her burgundy velvet dressing gown over top, and covered by a blanket. She sipped of wheatgrass tea which Mortianna had brought to her, telling her it would help to slow the bleeding.
She wanted to cry now that she was alone, but crying elicited pain in her rib cage, so she stared out of the window, trying to make sense of everything that went wrong since she foolishly suggested to Isabelle they stop by and take a look at the abandoned manor. It seemed innocent enough to have a normal curiosity about an uninhabited home which Robert was planning to buy for he and Isabelle. It should have been a happy moment. But, everything was soured the moment they set foot inside of it.
She wished she could forget she had been carrying a child. If she could forget, then she wouldn't feel empty and bereft as she did now.
The Sheriff came through the double doors of the bedchamber, carrying a tray.
"Perhaps a little something to break your fast, my angel? You worked hard during the night. You may feel more like resting after some nourishment." he smiled as he walked closer to her. He set the tray on a table near to her.
"Where is she?" Rhiannon asked.
"She is being prepared, my lady." the Sheriff said as he looked downcast.
"And then… what?" Rhiannon asked.
"And then, we shall bury her." he said, simply.
"Already?"
He nodded, wordlessly.
"Where?"
"We could bury her… with my parents. They are in the family burial ground behind the cathedral, my lady."
"I see. It's good that it's close by, so I may visit her."
"Of course, my lady." he said.
"What if… that was it for us?" Rhiannon asked.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"What if I can't give you a child?"
"My lady." he whispered as he put his hand on her left shoulder. "You're thinking too far ahead. There is no reason to believe we can't have a child in future." he said. Why couldn't you just remember the one we do have, Rhiannon? I was certain your labours would elicit a memory. He sighed, softly.
"I do hope you're right. She is so lovely. She must be frightened without us, and she is so cold." Rhiannon murmured as a tear spilled down her cheek.
"My lady, she doesn't feel fear or cold now. We shall remember her always, and keep her alive inside of us. Just as you do with your father, and your brother." he said, gently.
"I would wager they're looking after her now, George. I must believe that to be true!"
"Yes, my lady. It's a comforting thought." he whispered as he bent down and kissed the top of her head.
"Thank you, my love. I do feel comforted about that." she looked up at him and smiled.
"Of course, my angel. You must nourish yourself. When was the last time you ate any food?"
"Just before Isabelle and I left here yesterday."
"At least have some fruit. There's other items on the tray, but perhaps you'll be interested to sample them after having some fruit. And then, you should rest. You're exhausted."
"I will if you have some with me. I don't know how much rest I will get. I gave Isabelle permission to tell my brother. He'll probably wish to see me at some point." she said, as her betrothed gave her a small bowl with some grapes to nibble on.
"Of course, my lady." he said.
"I remember something about Isabelle telling you that Sir Guy came to see you during the night. Does he… "
"He knows you were labouring, my lady."
"And, Meridwyn?"
"I asked him not to say anything until I sent word."
"Mayhaps you could tell him after your Town Council meeting?" she said as she bit on a grape. She passed another grape to him.
"There shall be no Town Council meeting today, my dear. I will be meeting with my top men about another matter today, but I will not endure that. Not today." he said as he chewed on the grape she offered him.
"Then you have my permission to send word. Perhaps I'll feel more like resting after I visit with our family?"
"Are you feeling well, otherwise? Besides the… anguish, how does your body feel?" the Sheriff asked.
"Mostly tender from the injuries sustained yesterday. The bandaging on my ribs, and the sling help. I'm just a little tired and weakened from… the birth. I feel well enough." Rhiannon said.
"I'm grateful for that." he said.
"And, what about you?" she asked.
"What of me?" the Sheriff asked as his eyebrow shot north.
"You haven't looked yourself since you pulled me out of that manor yesterday. I've never seen you look so pale."
"Just lack of sleep, I suppose."
"You had better rest today, my love. I'd like to see some colour in your face." Rhiannon said.
"I'll find some time for a short rest after we get you sorted." he smiled.
As Lady Rhiannon began to sample of more of the food he brought her, he left the private chambers to head to the door. He asked the sentry to send word to Guy. He kept the message brief for discretion sake. Guy would know what he was inferring.
Drake and Adam were stationed at the portcullis on this dreary morning. There was very little activity so far. The most that had happened was Luke coming through the portcullis a short time prior, escorting a visitor to the new staff back to her home.
Adam had just finished his usual complaining about their boring assignment when Drake spotted a couple of sour looking men approaching on horseback. They dismounted and began to walk toward them.
"Cheer up, mate. Looks like we have business. Although, you should be careful what you wish for — by the looks on the faces of these blokes approaching." Drake said, nodding to the men.
"They don't look very pleased, do they?" Adam observed.
"Hope they're not associated with the waylayer who injured Emory yesterday." Drake whispered, shaking his head.
"Indeed." Adam nodded, keeping his eyes upon the two men.
"Good morrow, good Sirs." the older of the two men nodded.
"Greetings, men. Do you have an appointment with the Sheriff?" Drake asked.
"No. We're not here about that." the younger one said.
"Right. Then what is it we can help you with?" Drake asked.
"We're looking for a man. We thought perhaps you could lead us to him?" the older man said.
"Do we look like bounty hunters to you? We're on duty. We can't just go trawling about looking for someone for you, nor are we Village spies." Adam said, curtly. He folded his arms and assumed a wide stance.
"Adam." Drake admonished in a whisper.
"A most unfortunate tragedy has occurred in my family. My brother, the Lord Rothwell has been slew. My sources led me here." the older man said.
"Well, I can't imagine why. Can you describe the man you're seeking?" Adam asked.
"Yes. He is tall and lean. Has dark brown hair, a sparse moustache, and blueish eyes." he said.
"They could be green eyes, Uncle." the younger man said to the older one. "Lyonel, the rooming house owner, said he couldn't be sure if the man's eyes were green, or blue."
Drake swallowed, dryly. Adam shifted slightly in discomfiture, but kept his gaze upon them.
"And, why would you be asking us about the man?" Drake asked.
"Because we think he's a Black Knight. Lyonel from the rooming house saw him. The man had questioned him a sennight previously about a wanted man. On the night in question, when my brother was murdered, Lyonel recognized him, and witnessed him entering into the shed where my brother was later found." the older man explained.
"I cannot think of whom that would be. Can you, mate?" Adam commented to Drake with a shrug.
"No." Drake said, shaking his head. He looked to the older man. "There are many of us, you see."
"Well, should you see him, I would like a word with him. He needs to answer for such a crime."
"And, whom might you be?" Drake asked.
"Tylan Rothwell. My brother was Thurstan Rothwell. This is my nephew, Tobias Rothwell." the older of the men replied, nodding to his nephew beside him.
"Perhaps we should meet with the Sheriff, Uncle? He would know whom we're looking for." Tobias suggested.
"His Lordship is unavailable this day." Drake announced.
"That's fine. We don't need to see him. I only want to see the man who killed my brother. Perhaps you could be on alert for him? I will return another time." Tylan Rothwell said.
"Indeed." Drake nodded.
"And, if you should see the man my uncle described to you, don't think about warning him. I just need a few moments with him. Thurstan Rothwell was my father." Tobias spat.
"We won't breathe a word." Adam said, his jaw tightly set.
"Good. We shall be in touch. Good day." Tylan Rothwell nodded.
Then, the two men took their leave.
After they had left, both men exhaled a sigh.
"Curses, Drake! Those men are after Luke!" Adam spat.
"And, they are gravely mistaken. It wasn't Luke who killed the man in the shed. It was the stranger we were sent to look for. Although, I can understand the confusion from the rooming house owner. We were told the stranger left by way of the rear exit, just before Luke entered in through the front." Drake explained. He exhaled sharply and shook his head.
"I get the impression they don't wish to only speak to Luke." Adam sighed.
"I would agree. We shall inform Luke and the Sheriff of this development as soon as we are relieved, or possibly summoned — whichever comes first." Drake said.
"Agreed. I don't like this, Drake." Adam said.
"Nor do I." Drake nodded.
The Gisbornes had just arrived to visit with the Sheriff and Lady Rhiannon. The men were seated in the den. The ladies were visiting in the bedchamber. Meridwyn was seated on a chair across from Rhiannon, who was still seated by the window.
Meridwyn tried to conceal her concern. Lady Rhiannon looked slightly pale, with dark circles under her eyes. Her hair was tied back, still looking damp from her labours. She was covered in a blanket and sipping a steaming tea from her cup.
"You look like you need a good rest, honey." Meridwyn said.
"I don't know if I shall sleep, Meridwyn. I fear I shall review the events in my mind, and it will play out in my dreams, too — like a nightmare that won't be vanquished." Rhiannon said, softly.
"In time, the memory of it shall fade." Meridwyn said, soothingly.
"A part of me hopes for that, but then, another part wants to cherish her sweet face forever."
"A girl? You could tell that… already?"
"Yes, Sister. Our sweet baby daughter. I never would have imagined. I was certain I was having a boy."
"She sounds lovely, Rhiannon. I am sorry this happened. Was your betrothed present at the time?"
"Not at the precise time I was delivered of her. He was in the den. I… didn't want him to see the birth — death, whatever. The deed was done, Isabelle helped me wash, then George was summoned. Thank heavens he came in when he did. If he had no part of it, I fear they would have taken our daughter away before we could see her. George wasn't having it. He saw our little girl and brought her to me." Rhiannon explained.
"Oh, Rhi! I can't imagine. Did it help you to see her?" Meridwyn asked, curiously.
"Yes. I believe it helped us both. We had a good deal of private time with her. Just holding her, kissing her wee face, and George lovingly holding her tiny hands." Rhiannon whispered. She looked to her lap, into the cup she held in her hands. She closed her eyes tightly, blinking away a tear or two.
"Let it out, Rhiannon. It's quite alright. You need to release all of that emotion. It might help." Meridwyn said.
"If I let one tear escape, I fear they won't cease, Meridwyn. It hurts to cry, anyway. I found that out earlier."
"Your ribs?" Meridwyn asked.
Rhiannon nodded.
"Then keep drinking… whatever that is. Doesn't look like batwing tea. What exactly are you drinking, Rhi?"
"It's wheatgrass tea. It helps to slow the bleeding." Rhiannon said.
"Bleeding? Should we be summoning the medicus again?" Meridwyn asked, nervously.
"No, Sister. Thomas says that some bleeding following childbirth is normal. It settles after a few days." Rhiannon explained.
"Really? Oh my. As if everything else about it isn't hard enough on us!" Meridwyn huffed.
"That's not even all of it. My… uh… there is milk present. A cruel twist, Meridwyn. Having my bosom responsive to a child I cannot nurse." Rhiannon sighed.
"Oh, honey!" Meridwyn exclaimed. "When does that settle? Did Thomas say?"
"After a few days. I'm keeping them bound in the meantime. What a state I shall be in for the wedding. Wearing a cursed white gown." Rhiannon sighed.
"I'm sure you'll be better by then, dearest. At least, physically."
"If the wedding even happens at all." Rhiannon muttered.
"Whatever do you mean, Rhi? Why wouldn't it take place as planned?" Meridwyn asked.
"I failed him, Meridwyn. If I hadn't taken Isabelle to that manor yesterday, this wouldn't have happened. I'm sure of it. Thomas warned me yesterday that either a fall, or inhaling smoke can trigger labour. I sustained both. My desire for adventure caused this to happen." she frowned.
"Adventure? You make it sound as if you went jogging in the moors. All you did was see to your manor. Then, you took a detour to inspect the uninhabited home your brother was planning to purchase. I wouldn't consider that adventurous, my dear." Meridwyn said in an attempt to assuage her.
"What if that was my only chance to give him a child? What if… we're never given another?" Rhiannon asked.
"There is no reason to think of such a thing right now, Rhiannon. You are young and normally hale. I say normally, because you're looking a little weathered from the experience at the moment; but, you mustn't think of such things. He will not be casting you aside as a result of this."
"I hope that is true." Rhiannon said. "I wouldn't blame him if he did." she added.
"I can tell you're beyond exhausted, honey. You're not making any sense. It is a great loss to you both, but there is no need to foresee nothing but doom and gloom in your future with him."
"I can't help but feel complicit in causing the harm to… our daughter." Rhiannon said, softly.
"My dear, you must pull yourself out of this dangerous notion. It will do you no good to blame yourself. He loves you. I knew it even before I met you. For many months when you were missing he was walking around here like a living corpse. There is no way he will cast you aside. I'd stake my life on it." Meridwyn said, firmly.
"Your words of comfort move me deeply." Rhiannon said.
"Good. You are loved, dearest. No one would ever dream of blaming you for this unfortunate tragedy. It shall all work out in the end. You shall see." Meridwyn smiled.
"You look like you could use a good sleep, Cousin." Guy said. He couldn't help but notice once again how pale his cousin appeared. In fact, as he thought about it, he had been looking that way since he was seen the night before.
"Later. I am a little tired, but, at the same time, I've never been more awake." Nottingham said.
"I'm sure. You have my sincere condolences."
"I appreciate that." Nottingham nodded.
"If there's anything you need covered today, just direct me and I shall take care of it." Guy offered.
"I might take you up on that later, Gis. At some point, we need to meet with our top men." he said.
"Perhaps after a short rest your mind shall be clear and ready for that?"
"I've never napped a day in my life. I'd rather not start with that habit." the Sheriff said, firmly.
"Would it be considered napping, though? You haven't slept since Saturday night, Cousin." Guy pointed out.
"A good point, Gis. Perhaps you're right. It might be better to meet with them when I can think more clearly." he nodded.
They were interrupted by a knock on the door. The Sheriff went to it, and within moments, the Wordsworths were invited into the chambers.
"I am sorry for what has happened, Milord." Robert said.
"Thank you, Robert." he nodded.
"Is she… "
"She is strong. She is tired from it, but she seems to be handling it thus far."
"Very strong. She never made a sound. Not even once." Isabelle added.
"She astonishes me all of the time." Nottingham said.
"May I see her, or is she resting?" Robert asked.
"Lady Meridwyn is with her, but they've been visiting for awhile now. You may go inside. She's expecting you."
Robert nodded and guided Isabelle to follow him. He lightly wrapped on the doors to the bedchamber. Rhiannon called out, giving them permission to enter.
Isabelle went to Meridwyn as Robert walked over to Rhiannon. He bent down and embraced her, kissing her cheek.
"I'm so sorry, Sister." he whispered.
"Oh, do not make me cry, Brother. It hurts my ribs to cry." Rhiannon said, softly.
"Of course. Is there anything you need?" he asked.
"I'm good, Brother. I'm feeling well enough. I have this… interesting tea they're making me drink. I had a few morsels to break my fast. I can only think of one thing." Rhiannon hinted.
"What is it, dearest?" he asked.
"Keep an eye on my betrothed. He looks worse for wear than I do — if that's even possible. I could swear there's something not right about him." Rhiannon said.
"He does appear quite pallid of complexion." Isabelle agreed.
"I'll say. He hasn't looked right since he returned from that hunt yesterday." Meridwyn nodded.
"He keeps telling me he's fine, just a little fatigued, but, I've never seen him like this." Rhiannon said.
"I've known him for three years. Never once has he looked so… off." Meridwyn added.
"I shall do my best, Rhiannon. I do think he needs rest, however. Perhaps his colour will return after that. You should rest, too. The darkness around your eyes will also fade after needed sleep." Robert said.
"I will do that soon, Brother." Rhiannon nodded.
Ladies Meridwyn and Isabelle left Lady Rhiannon to rest. They told their husbands they would be breaking their fast together in the main room of the Gisborne's quarters. The Sheriff visited briefly with Guy and Robert. When they weren't paying attention to him, he took a drop of the opium the medicus in Newerche dispensed to him. He resisted the urge to clutch at his lower left side, taking slow measured breaths as he waited for the effects of the opium to kick in and relieve him of the discomfort he felt.
"Who of the men do you wish to meet with, Milord?" Robert asked.
"All of the top men. The Captain, Luke, Mordrid, Ancel, and you two, of course." the Sheriff said.
"I'll arrange that for the afternoon. You should rest in the meantime. I doubt you had any of that during the night." Robert said.
"Yes, it's quite obvious." Guy added.
"That's fine. Make it somewhere around mid afternoon. Luke isn't available at the moment anyway, since Madam Birghiva was forgotten about due to the myriad happenings of yesterday." a beat. "Though, I'm not sure if sleep will come at this point." the Sheriff sighed.
"Perhaps a sip or two of your brandy will get you started on that, Cousin? It may even be helpful to Lady Rhiannon?" Guy pointed out.
"She's taking a couple of drops of opium to manage the pain in her rib cage, when needed. So, that's not an option for her at the moment. As for me, it's a bit early in the day. We both had some nourishment, so perhaps we will be able to rest for awhile." he said.
"Do not concern yourself with any other matters for now, Cousin. Robert and I will manage, and Duke Farnsworth is present, as well." Guy said.
"He will be wondering why he's not being sent to search for the stumpy bloke. I can't lose any ground just because a personal matter occurred during the night." Nottingham pointed out.
"We will cover that at our meeting, Milord. You can't direct any of us, my sister included, if you haven't taken care of your own basic personal needs. If you could only see yourself. It's written all over your face. You're as white as the driven snow." Robert pointed out.
"Indeed." Guy agreed.
"Am I? It's probably just fatigue." he said dismissively, with a wave of his hand.
"Yes. Very pale. I haven't seen such alarming lack of colour in a person's complexion since… " Robert began, but let his words trail off when he realized he was being verbose.
All Guy could think of was how Lady Rhiannon looked last May when they found her in the north. His cousin didn't look quite as bad as that, but close.
"Since… when? Or, are you referring to a person?" Nottingham asked.
"Since I saw the same in my mother — when she was labouring for days with Rhiannon." Robert said softly, and sighed.
"You would have been quite young then. How could you recall such a thing?" the Sheriff asked, curiously.
"I was eight years. That's old enough to remember some things, and that was a time I wish I could forget. At the time, I didn't quite understand the direness of the situation, but I knew I was frightened for my mother. I knew something was very wrong." Robert explained.
"Well, nobody is dying here, Robert. Only my daughter has died, but the rest of us are to go on living without her… for reasons I don't fully understand." he sighed. "I'm just weathered from the long day yesterday, and the events of the night." the Sheriff said.
"Of course, Cousin. We shall leave you to it now. You stay here and rest. I will summon for you when we're ready to start the meeting." Guy suggested.
He nodded and they took their leave of him. He sighed before he headed to the bedchamber. He was surprised to see she was still awake.
"Come, my angel. Let's get you out of that chair." he said as he bent down to assist her out of it.
"If you'd prefer, I could return to my manor." she said.
"Now, I know you're exhausted, Rhiannon. I think you might be lucid dreaming, or something peculiar. Why would you suggest such a thing?" he asked, as she stood before him.
"I just thought… since I… I killed your daughter… " she whispered as she looked downcast.
"Rhiannon. Stop this at once. You are not responsible. You will not be sent away. She was our daughter, my angel." he said as he reached over and gently tilted her face upward so their eyes could meet.
"You mean… could you mean… you still wish to proceed as normal? The wedding?"
"I told you from the outset I never planned to be a father. I never knew it would mean so much until I saw him… saw her." he cursed himself for slipping up. He prayed to Zeus she wouldn't notice. "But, I did know from the beginning I wanted you."
"Him?" she asked.
"It's just fatigue, my lady. It seems we both need a rest as neither of us are making perfect sense." he said, smoothly.
"Yes. I'd agree with you there." she nodded.
"You will not be leaving here. Not with my consent! We have eight days to get you well. Thomas says you should be fit for it. That is… if you still consent to be my wife. I would never force you, my lady." Nottingham said.
"Yes, I consent. Of course, I do. I just thought… with what has happened, things might change. Especially for you. You got a taste of fatherhood, although, it was a bitter taste. And, maybe you would rethink things? Since we don't know if I'm capable of bringing you… a child." Rhiannon explained.
"It's true there's plenty of fertile women who are not yet wed. But, I don't give a damn because they're not you. What good is it to create children with someone I couldn't stand for five seconds? None of it matters. Nothing matters, Rhiannon — without you. Alright?" he said, softly.
"George!" she whispered. She embraced him tightly with her left arm, and began to silently weep against his chest.
"My angel." he whispered as he held her close and smoothed her hair. "That's good. Let it all out. You have endured a great deal since yesterday."
"I thought you wouldn't want me now." she whispered.
"Never. I shall be devoted to you until my dying breath. It's time you get inured to that. Come, my angel. Perhaps you will be able to rest now that you know for certain my devotion is true." he said as he guided her to the bed.
She sat upon it then reclined against the pillows.
"Yes, my love. It helps greatly to know that. I would say I should fall into a sweet repose, but it wouldn't be entirely true. The repose would be sweeter if… she were with us. Alive and breathing." Rhiannon said, softly.
"Of course, my angel. Our beautiful little girl." he smiled.
If you could only remember our son, my angel. All is not lost, but it's not right to tell you now. Not when we're grieving our daughter. I shall be relieved when you know, however, because these ridiculous notions of questioning your future fertility are unfounded. But, I can't tell you yet. The timing is…
"You had better rest with me, George. I think you need it more than I. I hope I don't look as unwell as you do." Rhiannon said, shaking her head.
"You're lovely, my lady… and very tired looking." he said as he sat beside her on the bed.
He put his arm around her and allowed himself to recline against the pillows. He held her close to him as his eyes closed.
"George?"
"Yes, my angel."
"Do you think… we should name her? I mean… she is fully formed, she was just… too small to survive."
"I've been thinking that, too. She should have a name. If there is such a thing as heaven, she must be there now." he whispered.
"Of course. She has grandparents with her, and two uncles." Rhiannon said as she closed her eyes.
"Two? I thought you only had two brothers. Is there a third I haven't heard about?" he asked.
"No, silly. I'm talking about your brother. The one you never knew. He is waiting for our little girl, too, George." she said.
"Oh. Right. I didn't consider that. I admit I haven't given him much thought through the years. Just like my parents. It's strange to consider people I never knew." he said.
"Yes, I certainly understand. It's how I feel about my mother. Never knew her, so I don't think of her. If it weren't for my brother I wouldn't know a thing about her. Sometimes it makes me feel badly… for Robert." she said.
"Of course, my lady." he whispered sleepily.
As he began to doze off he thought of what she said. It was only a short time ago Robert mentioned his mother to him. As he held his lady to the right of him, he grasped his lower left side with his left hand, raising his knees a little, subconsciously guarding the pain.
At midday, while the Sheriff and his betrothed had finally succumbed to much needed sleep, still reclined upon their bed, Guy and Robert were in the Council Quarters preparing for the afternoon ahead. They had just met with Duke Farnsworth, who was puzzled not to be heading up another search mission at the moment. He acquiesced when they explained that the plans would be further hashed out at the meeting later. After the Captain left, only a few moments had passed before the sentry announced that Officers Drake and Adam were outside the door and needed a word.
Gisborne indicated to the sentry to send them in.
"I thought you two were manning the portcullis today?" Gisborne asked with a quirk of his brow as he arose from the table.
"We are, Sir Gisborne. Emory and Castor are relieving us for a time. We needed a word with the Sheriff. Is he busy?" Drake asked.
"He is indisposed for a short while." Guy said.
"Oh. That is rather unfortunate. He would want to know this." Adam sighed.
"Well, why don't you tell us about it? We shall be having a meeting with the Sheriff in a couple hours time. We shall bring it to his attention then." Guy suggested.
"Very well. For this cannot wait." Drake said.
"What can we help you with, Officer Drake?" Robert asked.
"It's about… Luke." Adam hinted.
"What about Luke? Is he injured, or something?" Guy asked.
"No. We tried to have a word with him when he returned to the castle, but he brushed us off, saying he needed to complete his patrols of the castle grounds." Drake said.
"Is this to do with the Sheriff's new hire — Floria?" Guy asked as he folded his arms.
"Sort of… indirectly. Or, maybe it is directly?" Adam pondered. He furrowed his brow and frowned as he looked away briefly, pondering the matter.
"God's nightgown, men! What exactly is this about? Speak plainly." Guy huffed.
"There's a couple of noblemen who… " Drake began.
"They're out for Luke's blood, Sir Gisborne!" Adam exclaimed.
"Wh… What?" Guy demanded.
"How much do you know of the events of Saturday evening when Luke brought Floria here?" Drake asked.
"Milord briefed me about it yesterday morning before he left for Newerche. All he said was that Floria was seen by the men who were on assignment, that harm had come to her, and Luke brought her here to safety as she was expected to arrive yesterday, anyway." Guy said.
"These men think that Luke slew their father and brother — the man who harmed her. But it wasn't Luke, Sir Gisborne. It was actually the stranger we were sent out to find. They want Luke's blood!" Drake exclaimed.
"Oh my… " Robert sighed.
"And, whom is this person who was slain? Does anyone know?" Guy asked them both.
"They styled him as a Lord, Sir Gisborne. Lord Thurstan Rothwell — whomever in the devil he was." Drake sighed.
"Indeed. I've never heard of him." Guy said. "Tell me more of this meeting you had with them."
"They came to the portcullis this morning. They didn't wish to speak to the Sheriff. They just wanted Luke. They tried to get information out of us. They described him to us, no doubt wanting us to give them a name and hand him over to them. But, we told them we didn't know whom they were talking about." Adam explained.
"Does Luke know any of what you just reported?" Guy asked.
"No. He knows nothing. After he returned from his task, he met us at the portcullis. We told him we had something important we needed to share with him." Drake began.
"But, he insisted that whatever we had to tell him could wait. He said he needed to do his patrols because none of that had been done yet today." Adam said.
"And then, he just left us." Drake added.
"That lad is so dutiful, one of these days it will be to his own detriment." Guy sighed.
"That's what I was trying to tell him, Sir Guy!" Adam exclaimed.
"Alright. Give me the entire rundown. I want names. I want to know whom supposedly witnessed Luke and made the incorrect assumption that he is responsible. I want every detail. Now." Guy said, firmly.
It was just approaching mid afternoon when the Sheriff awoke, clutching at his lower left side of his belly. He took a few moments to breathe through the tense moments, then prepared to move off of the bed. He checked the front pocket of his breeches. The vial of opium was still there. He turned to his right to look upon her. Lady Rhiannon was fast asleep. He smiled and softly kissed her forehead, then gently arose from the bed so as not to disturb her.
He went over to the table in front of the mirror near to the window, and splashed cool water on his face from the water in the washbasin. He patted his face with a clean towel, then he lifted his tunic up to inspect his bandage.
He was displeased to note the amount of sanguinous drainage on the bandage. Curses! What could he apply to it in the meantime? He thought for a moment, and then he knew how to proceed.
He softly walked to the trunk at the foot of the bed. He opened it gently, trying to prevent the creaking of the lid lifting. He shuffled through the items contained within, and there at the bottom he found it. An old, pristine white tunic. He hadn't worn it in many years. He couldn't recall when he'd last worn it, but it was clean and dry, and it would work.
He used his dagger to tear at the fabric, then he commenced ripping it into strips. Next, he removed the old bandage, cleaned the wound which was leaking a small amount of blood, then used the white strips of fabric to redress the wound. Satisfied, he took the old bandage, and the strip of his old tunic he used to wash the wound with, and he tossed them into the fireplace. He stood watching them burn before he changed into a clean black tunic and added his black velvet doublet. It was then he reached into the pocket of his breeches and extracted the vial. He unscrewed the cap, took two drops as the pain was increasing, capped it then stuffed it back into the pocket.
He waited a few moments for the effects of the opium to kick in, and then he proceeded out of the chambers and made his way to the Council Quarters.
Guy and Robert were relieved to see he arrived ahead of the others, for they had important news to report.
"Ah, there you are, Cousin! You look… a little rested now." Guy greeted him as he stood from the table.
Robert followed suit and stood from his chair, as well.
"Yes. Rested and ready to continue with a relatively normal day." he said.
"Not… quite normal." Robert muttered.
"Of course, it's not. This has been anything but a routine day." Nottingham said as he went to the table to take a seat.
The men seated themselves, as well, and prepared to update him on the latest problem.
"I'm glad you arrived when you did, George. We have another matter we need to report to you before the others arrive." Guy began.
"And, what is that?" he asked.
"It's about Luke." Guy said.
"What about him? Has he been seen with Floria? I warned him not to be too familiar with her." he sighed.
"A couple of hours ago we had an impromptu meeting with Officers Drake and Adam." Robert began.
"Alright. You two are starting to unnerve me. What is going on? Is Luke in trouble?" Nottingham asked.
"It would seem, Cousin. This morning, a couple of men related to the man who harmed Floria on Saturday eve, arrived at the portcullis. They were looking for Luke." a beat. "They're out for revenge, Cousin." Guy said.
"What?" the Sheriff asked, slowly.
"It seems that the owner of a rooming house Luke questioned a sennight ago regarding the stumpy bloke, was in the vicinity of the tavern on Saturday evening. He witnessed Luke go into the shed where Floria was found. He, unfortunately, made the assumption that it was Luke who slew the man who harmed Floria, and reported this to the two men who arrived here today." Gisborne explained.
The Sheriff put his palm to his forehead, and slowly shook his head and sighed. He could feel slight discomfort in his lower left side. Curses!
"Does Luke know?" he asked, pointedly.
"No, Milord. When he returned from escorting the Madam, Drake and Adam made the attempt, explaining they had something of importance to tell him. Luke dismissed them, saying he needed to do his patrols on the castle grounds as they hadn't yet been done." Robert explained.
"Of course, he did. Sounds just like him." Nottingham sighed. "Do the two men who take issue with him know his name?"
"No. He was described to them by the rooming house owner. They, in turn, described him to Drake and Adam, who said they didn't know him." Guy said.
"Good. That was cleverly handled by the men. And, who are these blokes who came looking for Luke's blood? Do we know?" he asked.
"Yes, Milord. One was Tylan Rothwell, the man's brother. The other was Tobias Rothwell, the man's son." Robert reported.
"And, whom was the man who was killed by the stranger?"
"They styled him as a Lord, Cousin. Lord Thurstan Rothwell." Guy said.
"Rothwell. Hmm. Where have I heard that… Ah, yes. I've only heard his name mentioned at the brothel on the occasions I was there to question them about the… stumpy bloke. His name came up frequently. Seems he was a regular denizen there. Funny thing about that, though: I've never heard of him except from Madam Birghiva, and the consorts who were questioned. Isn't that odd?" Nottingham scoffed.
"Indeed. I've never heard the name either." Guy agreed.
"The men told Drake and Adam they would return." Robert added.
"Of course, they did! Determined to seek revenge for a man who was no more a Lord than the Scribe's great toe!" Nottingham sneered.
Gisborne looked downcast, concealing a chuckle.
"So, how would you wish to handle this, Milord?" Robert asked.
"Luke knows nothing of this, correct?" Nottingham asked once more for clarification.
"Aye. I'm sure if something had changed one of the lads would have informed us by now. At last report, Luke was unaware." Guy said.
"Even if he had slew this Rothwell bloke, he would have been right to do so. The man was attempting to violate Floria. As it was he had bruised, bloodied, and choked her. Rothwell was no saint, and certainly not a Lord. If the two relatives continue to plague the portcullis with such calumnies, they shall be taken care of. They will not threaten the Black Knights. Especially not one of my top men. Not… Luke." Nottingham said, firmly.
"As you wish, Cousin." Guy agreed.
"Indeed, Milord." Robert nodded.
"Robert, it's just the three of us present. There's no need to be so formal. We will be related by marriage in just over a sennight's time. Although it might be strange to you, you may address me by my given name." Nottingham said.
"Very well." Robert nodded.
"Also, we're going to be discussing classified matters, so I didn't invite the Scribe. I'm assigning you to take notes, Robert."
"Of course." Robert nodded. He reached to the centre of the table and grabbed some blank parchment, and moved the jar of ink and quill close within his reach.
Moments later there was a knock on the door. The sentry announced the arrival of the Captain and the top men. The Sheriff signalled for the sentry to send them in.
The door was closed and the men joined the Sheriff, Guy, and Robert at the table.
"Are we here to formulate a stratagem for capturing the prisoner who escaped, Milord Sheriff?" Ancel asked.
"That is one of the topics we'll be covering." he replied. Then he looked around the table to his men. "As you know, lawlessness is propagating in the Village. First, there was a man styling himself as a Lord who abused and attempted to violate a young lady on Saturday evening near the tavern… "
Luke shifted a little and looked downcast a moment.
"Next, we had a waylayer appear yesterday, who stabbed Emory before gaining access through the portcullis. And then, this morning, two others showed up, threatening another of the Black Knights." Nottingham said as his eyebrow quirked, knowingly.
"What? Who did they threaten, my Lord?" Duke Farnsworth asked.
"I will explain further in a few moments. Duke. The point is, these are only the ones we know of. Duke, you reported to Guy something you and the small detachment of men uncovered during the search last evening. Kindly update my top men on your findings."
"Very well, my Lord." Duke Farnsworth nodded. He looked to the men. "There is a growing resistance among some of the townspeople against the Sheriff and his betrothed. They are fuelled by the rumours being spread by one of the local parish priests."
"I can only imagine." Robert sighed.
"We live in a time of sanctimonious piety. Seems right on point." Mordrid sneered.
"Indeed." Guy seethed.
"How do you propose we meet with this challenge, Milord Sheriff? Perhaps it's time for… spies?" Luke asked.
"That's one tactic I'm proposing, Luke." Nottingham said. Then he looked to each of them. "We need espials, and we need to form a City Watch. An extension of the Black Knights who are given authority to enforce laws outside of the castle walls. It's something I should have considered in the past. I failed to prevent the farce that happened three years ago. I will not fail in preventing another such incursion." he said, firmly.
"I'm in complete agreement. Your plan is perfect, Milord." Ancel said.
"You said they'd be given authority to enforce the law, Milord. Whom would grant the authority, and what would be their scope of practice?" Mordrid asked.
"Since I am Chief Constable, I would ultimately grant them authority. With regards to their practice, they would be observant for lawless acts, and given authority to arrest. They would bring the accused to us. They would only be permitted to use their weapons to protect themselves, or others if the criminal poses a danger. Of course, there shall be a recruitment and vetting process before we enact a City Watch." the Sheriff explained.
"Sounds reasonable to me. There's only one obvious question left." Duke Farnsworth said.
"What is that, Duke?" he asked.
"Have you the funds for such an endeavour? The men recruited to the City Watch, and the espials will need compensation for their duties." Duke Farnsworth pointed out.
"Naturally. The coffers are sufficient enough, if we were to go ahead with it. However, I intend to discuss the matter with Prince John regarding the funding. He is our best link to the King. This serves his interest to keep lawlessness in Nottingham in check. As long as the plan proves successful we can then expand the practice throughout the shire." the Sheriff explained.
"You're right. It would be in the King's best interest. It would be shocking if Prince John didn't grant approval on his behalf." Guy said.
"Agreed. Some of you might know some in the Village you can suggest as either an espial, or a guard in the City Watch. Feel free to give names. I won't be approaching them and putting the plans into motion until I have full approval to do so." the Sheriff said.
"I can think of one such individual for the City Watch duties. If Drake were here he would have mentioned him by now." Luke hinted.
"Whom is that, Luke?" Duke Farnsworth asked.
"Slayer. The security guy at the tavern. We saw him in action. The man acts like a soldier and doesn't tolerate any rubbish from the patrons there. From what we could tell, he doesn't miss a beat." Luke smirked.
"Slayer? Seriously?" Mordrid chuckled.
"Yes. That's what he goes by, and I'm not being funny about it." Luke shrugged.
"Ah, yes. I seem to recall Drake mentioning him when he gave an account of the events of Friday evening." Nottingham grinned.
"Espials would be the bigger challenge, I'm guessing. They would need to be trusted, as they would be the informants." Ancel added.
"Indeed." the Sheriff nodded. He cleared his throat and then looked to each of the men at the table. "Now, there are just two other matters to confer about." he hinted.
"The search, no doubt. What is the other?" Duke Farnsworth.
"That will be covered at the end of our meeting. It's the matter regarding the latest threat to one of our men." he said.
It was well after mid afternoon when Lady Rhiannon had awakened. She was reclined against the pillows on the bed, still fighting sleep, and debating about whether she should read her book about Erec and Enide when there was a soft knock on the doors of the bedchamber.
"Enter." she called out.
The door opened and Mortianna stepped inside. She was holding a cup that had a visible steam floating from the top of it.
"I brought ye another cup of wheatgrasss tea, child. I hope I didn't wake ye." Mortianna said as she passed the cup to her.
"Thank you, Mortianna." Rhiannon said as she began to sip of it. "I don't suppose you have a trick up your sleeve to help me… forget some of what's transpired, have you?"
"We tried that once, Milady. The plan went awry, if you recall." the witch said, shaking her head.
"Isn't there… something you can suggest?" Rhiannon asked.
"I could suggest a few things, but, it is not wise."
"It's… overwhelming."
"Of course it is, child. And, it will ease, in time."
"I can't begin to think about the wedding. Not after this." Rhiannon said as she took another sip of the tea.
"Of course. It only just occurred, Milady Rhiannon. But, we can't put a stopper on the designs of fate, nor our reactions to it. They shape who we are." Mortianna said.
"I suppose you are right. I wish I could forget, however."
"And, if ye could forget, then what? Ye would have no memory, but he would remember. It would no longer be a shared moment in time. That would divide you. Sometimes when we alter things, the consequences are dire. As unfortunate and tragic as this event is, it was something meant to be shared between ye both." Mortianna explained.
"I suppose I never considered that, Mortianna."
"Everything shall heal. Your body and your heart. Ye will never forget, but ye will heal from this, Milady. Trust in that." the witch smiled.
"Thank you, Mortianna. For the tea, and your sage advice. It helped me to gain clarity." Rhiannon said.
"You're welcome, child. I am sorry this happened to ye. It is tragic. Ye are not alone, though. We shall all help ye through this time." the witch said as she gently grasped her hand.
As the afternoon wore on, the meeting in the Council Quarters was beginning to wrap up. The men were just finishing working out the details of the search.
"I will take the same group out at the conclusion of this conference, Milord." Duke Farnsworth said.
"Hopefully, the flesh wound Lady Rhiannon inflicted on him will slow him down." Ancel said.
"Indeed. The first order of business is sifting through that rubble. I need to know if either he, or the consort perished in that fire." Nottingham pointed out.
"Agreed, Milord. We shall start there." the Captain nodded.
"Good. That's two topics covered. Now, for the last point." he began.
"Indeed. You said this had to do with a threat made to one of the Black Knights." Duke Farnsworth said.
"Yes. And, this needs to be dealt with urgently." Nottingham said. He turned to face Luke. "Well, Luke, It seems you're in a spot of trouble."
"I beg your pardon, Milord Sheriff?" Luke asked.
"You should really pay attention to your mates when they tell you they have a matter of importance to share with you." he said with his eyebrow quirked, knowingly.
"I… don't understand?" Luke asked, shaking his head in bewilderment.
"It seems Lord Rothwell's family are incensed about his… untimely death." the Sheriff hooked two fingers of each hand in the air at the mention of the title. "You were witnessed entering into the shed on Saturday evening by one you had questioned a sennight previously about the stumpy fellow. The man made an unfortunate assumption after the body was found, and reported it to two relatives of the slain man." he said with his eyebrow quirked.
"I see." Luke sighed.
"The two of them lodged their complaints to Drake and Adam this morning. The men don't know your name, but they described you to your comrades. Your comrades covered for you, saying they didn't know whom the malcontents were referring to." the Sheriff said.
"As I reported to you, it wasn't I who delivered the fatal wound to the man, but if not for the stranger who did, I would have, Milord. He harmed Floria. He would have continued his assault on her if the stranger hadn't stopped him." Luke admitted.
"Forgive me, but, whom is Floria?" Mordrid asked.
"She was hired on Tuesday. She is the new assistant to Madam Oberon. Madam Oberon is Wardrobe Mistress and Dressmaker to my betrothed, and Lady Gisborne. She has also created a gown for Lady Wordsworth — Robert's wife." the Sheriff said.
"I see." Mordrid said.
"So, how do you wish me to proceed, Milord?" Luke asked.
"In the usual fashion, of course. I doubt you'll be able to talk your way out of this with them, so follow my rule about how we handle doubt." Nottingham winked.
"Doubt?" Luke asked.
"We eliminate all doubt." Mordrid said.
"Of course. Very well." Luke nodded.
"We don't let problems fester, Luke. We deal with them straightway. Occasionally, they build beyond our grasp, but we get them handled. The two blokes who came looking for you are a problem. They are reactive and they will not relent. You could argue your point with them until you run out breath; they will continue to believe what they choose to believe. So, we eliminate the doubt — before the two blokes turn this into an even bigger problem. Which they will, if you don't silence them now." Nottingham firmly explained.
"How can we know they'll turn this into a bigger problem?" Luke asked.
"We don't know, Luke. That's where doubt comes in. However, in my experience, they'll spread their calumnies, recruiting others to join them in a revenge plot against you. That is the greater problem that looms if we don't deal with the current smaller problem. We may even need to deal with the person you questioned who started the vile rumour that it was you who is responsible." Nottingham said.
"Very well, Milord. Understood." Luke said.
"Milord, if I may?" Robert interrupted.
"Yes, Robert." the Sheriff said.
"Must we really take such extreme measures with the two family members of this Rothwell fellow, and possibly the rooming house owner, as well?"
"What would you suggest as a sufficient alternative?" he asked as he narrowed his eyes, questioningly.
"Luke could explain his side of the story. There were two doors to the shed. Once he explains that he entered in the front, as the man who slew the Rothwell fellow exited out the rear door, wouldn't that suffice?" Robert pressed.
"Then it would be Luke's word against theirs, and their source who gave the false information. One cannot just settle things over a chat with people like them, Robert. They came with their minds made up. They want revenge, and said they'd return — probably to exact their revenge if they see Luke."
"I see." Robert said. "When you put it that way, it does make sense."
"Good. It seems we've covered everything, men." the Sheriff said.
"Should we be joining the Captain in the search, Milord?" Ancel asked.
"Tomorrow. For now, Duke Farnsworth will take the same contingency of men out as yesterday." he said.
"Very well." Ancel nodded.
Duke Farnsworth left to gather the men to embark on the search, as Mordrid and Ancel followed soon after. Luke asked to speak to the Sheriff privately as Guy and Robert were still conferring with one another in the meeting room.
The Sheriff led him outside the room and they found a spot not too far away where they could speak freely and not be disturbed.
"What is it, Luke?"
"I need to speak to the medicus, Milord. Is he still staying in a room in the castle?" Luke asked.
"Yes, he is. I will probably suggest he can return to his manor on the morrow. It's quite close in proximity should we need him, but things are settling now." Nottingham said.
"Milord, I need to check in with him."
"Is this about Floria, Luke?"
"No, Milord Sheriff. I haven't seen her today. It's actually about… you."
"What about me?"
"Milord… seriously? Are we just going to pretend what happened to you yesterday never occurred at all?" Luke sighed.
"Luke — "
"I have a… hmm. What would you call it? Ah, yes. A surgical report to give to him from the medicus in Newerche. I regret to admit that with the unexpected happenings last evening, even though I intended to speak to him at the outset and give it to him, it, unfortunately, got missed."
"You needn't wor — "
"Milord, this is important. You haven't looked right since this happened to you yesterday afternoon. I want him to have it. You need seen to, Milord, and I'm not being funny about it. At the very least, that dressing shall need changing, and your wound cleaned, as well." Luke insisted.
"It's really not — "
"You can be angry with me all you want." he sighed. "Forgive me for talking over you, and arguing my point. Your health is important, and frankly, I'm worried about it, Milord Sheriff." Luke whispered.
"I'm not angry with you, Luke. I'm rather… moved by your concern. You truly are loyal and faithful to me. However, we don't need to bother him with that just now. I cleaned and redressed the wound just prior to the meeting. The timing is wrong today, lad, for reasons I cannot expound on just now. You may deliver the missive from the Newerche medicus to Thomas on the morrow. Fair?"
"Very well, Milord Sheriff." Luke nodded.
"And, as for the Rothwell clan, you deal with them as you see fit. I shall cheerfully join in if you need me. No one is going to threaten one of my men and get away with it." he huffed.
"Thank you, Milord. I hope you don't mind speaking to me out here in the corridor. I had a strong hunch you haven't shared this with anyone yet."
"That is correct, Luke. Not yet."
"Very well, Milord. I shall give the surgical report to Crumwell on the morrow before he heads back to his manor." Luke nodded, then took leave of him.
Luke exhaled a sigh as he walked away. The Sheriff looked quite unwell. He might not have shared this with anyone yet, but Luke, the other two top men, and now Robert would be observant of him. Luke was determined to keep reminding him until he was seen to by Thomas Crumwell.
"Is everything alright with Luke, Cousin?" Guy asked when the Sheriff returned to the Council Quarters.
"Yes. He just needed some clarity on handling the Rothwell clan." he said.
Robert had a strong hunch about the real reason Luke needed to speak to him privately. He was convinced this had more to do with what the Sheriff's top men shared with him when they arrived ahead of the Sheriff the night before, but he kept his head down reviewing his notes of the meeting, and kept his thoughts to himself.
"Are you satisfied with the notes, Robert?" the Sheriff asked.
"Yes. Everything is documented. I just reviewed them." Robert said.
"Good." he nodded.
The Sheriff went to the table and picked up the parchment. He quickly reviewed them, then rolled the document. He took it over to a desk and placed it inside a drawer there.
"Is there anything else you want covered today, Cousin?" Guy asked.
"Just the usual. A visit to the dungeon for another assessment of the damages incurred from yesterday's fire would be in order. And, check in with the lads at the portcullis for whomever might be showing up there to cause trouble. We have the Rothwell clan, nosy Lady Gisela, and possibly a few angry townspeople against the upcoming nuptials to be on guard for. Beyond that, the only matter from yesterday which was deferred was a meeting with Fingle. I was planning to take my top men to him to see about crossbows, since they are the only archers available to us until we have Nigel back. That will have to wait for another day." the Sheriff said.
"Very well." Guy said.
"I should probably check in with the armoury." Robert added.
"Very well, but don't linger there, Robert. I need you to assist Guy. He will be in charge the rest of the day. I need to get back to Rhiannon." he said.
"Indeed. As you wish." Robert nodded.
"Good. I shall leave you men to deal with these matters." he said as he took leave of them.
He was surprised to see Lady Rhiannon seated by the fireplace in the den when he returned to his private chambers. Her book was on a table beside her.
"I thought you'd still be resting, my lady." he said as he moved toward her. He took a seat in the chair across from her.
"I am resting. Sort of. Just not sleeping any longer." Rhiannon smiled. "Now, it's your turn."
"For what?"
"Rest, my love." she frowned. "Have you not taken a moment to glance at your reflection in the mirror?"
"It wasn't on my list of priorities. No." he said, dryly.
"Can I get you some brandy?"
"No, my lady. I'm fine. And, you need your rest. I shall speak to the sentry about having a tray sent to you soon." he said as he closed his eyes a moment.
He could feel the discomfort returning. Curses! Instinctively, he placed his left foot up on the table in front of him. Having his knee bent helped it in a strange sort of way. His hand rested over the pocket of his breeches. He could feel the vial of opium there. He wanted to reach for it, but he would wait until he was out of view of her.
"You mean… a tray sent to us, don't you?"
"I'm not hungry, my lady." he said, his eyes still closed. He was waiting for the pain to lessen.
"George, what is it?" she blurted.
"Grief, I suppose. Our daughter… "
"There's something more. You're refusing brandy. You're still as white as my shift. Refusing food. You can't tell me there isn't more to it." Rhiannon huffed as she narrowed her gaze upon him.
"My lady, it's really noth — "
"Yes, so you keep saying." Rhiannon sighed. She arose from her seat and moved swiftly toward him.
He felt her hand upon his face. He opened his eyes and looked up at her.
"Your skin feels warm. Too warm. I think you might have caught a chill yesterday, George." Rhiannon said.
"The weather was actually… quite pleasant." he said, softly.
"I shall speak to the sentry about a tray. You need to rest on the bed, George. This is madness. If you could only see yourself you would know it to be true." she sighed.
"I suppose you're right. Perhaps I should rest a bit longer." he nodded, too overcome with discomfort at the moment to be bothered to argue with her about it.
"And, you will eat, George. I shall ask for soup, and bread." Rhiannon said. She grabbed his arm. "Come, my love."
"What? What are you doing… Rhiannon?"
"For God's sake, George! Stop being so obstinate and listen to me. You need to get up on that bed in there." she said, nodding in the direction of the bedchamber. "Now."
"You're being ridiculous, Rhiannon. Honestly. It is you who is injured, and laboured all cursed night. I don't need to be mollycoddled." the Sheriff said, firmly.
"George!" Rhiannon huffed.
"Just… give me a few moments. You're hovering. I just need… a few moments." he said.
"Fine. Very well." she sighed then walked toward the door to speak to the sentry.
The Sheriff used this moment to extract the vial of opium from his pocket. He hated to take it, because he considered it poison, but the pain was making it difficult to concentrate. He took three drops this time, capped it, and quickly stuffed the vial back into his pocket, all the while muttering curses under his breath for needing to take poison to control the damn pain. He resisted the urge to clutch at his side. He kept his left leg raised, and closed his eyes tightly, waiting for the effects to take hold. He quietly took slow measured breaths in an attempt to further distract him from the discomfort he felt.
Nottingham stayed like that for awhile, completely oblivious to anything else. He realized he must have nodded off for a few moments. He finally opened his eyes and was stunned to see his betrothed standing before him, fully dressed in her navy tartan wool gown. Her hair was fashioned in a ponytail and fastened with a shiny ribbon matching the shade of her gown.
"My lady. You're dressed. How did you manage that with your arm in a sling?"
"Quite carefully, my sweet. Getting dressed is fine. Trying to do anything more elaborate than this with my hair is quite tricky, I discovered, though." she sighed.
"I can imagine. Where are you off to?" he asked.
"I'm just about to lose my senses being cooped up in here any longer. All it does is make me review last night's events incessantly. You obviously need a few moments to yourself, George. I won't be long. I'll be back by the time the tray arrives. I shall see to it that you take nourishment, even if you push the tray away, or me in the process." Rhiannon said, firmly.
"Very well." he yawned. He was grateful the pain had subsided. He moved his left leg and rested his boot on the floor, and began to slouch in the chair.
"Now, I know there's something amiss, because you didn't argue with me once." Rhiannon sighed, folding her arms.
"You… still didn't say where you're going, my lady. Should you be doing this? You've been through… hell these last twenty four hours." he muttered.
"I'm doing well, sugar. Do not worry. The bleeding has slowed down considera — "
"Bleeding?"
"Yes. Thomas says some bleeding is normal for a few days. I've got it under control, thanks to the wheatgrass tea Mortianna brings to me at frequent intervals." she said.
"Oh, I see." he nodded.
He remembered the wheatgrass tea that Lady Margaret sent with James when they were looking for her last spring. It helped her to get well enough to move her and get her back to Nottingham.
"What about the pain in your ribs? Your arm? Have you taken a drop or two of opium of late?" he asked. He was finding his eyelids were growing heavy and it was difficult to focus.
"Not for a few hours. It's fine. Between the bandaging there, the sling, and the bindings on my bosom, it's helping it quite a bit." she said as she narrowed her eyes upon him, trying to work out what was going on with him. He looked like he was falling asleep during their conversation.
"Bindings? Why do you need bindings, my angel?" he asked as his eyelids fluttered.
"To help dry the milk." she said, simply.
"I see. I never thought of that." he whispered.
"Neither did I. But, that's what happens when an infant is delivered, apparently. Even if they're far too small to survive." Rhiannon sighed.
"I'm sorry, my angel." he whispered.
"You mustn't be, sugar. It is what it is, and everything is beginning to heal now — for me, anyway."
"What… do you mean… by that?" he asked.
"It is you who needs healing now, George, from whatever illness is trying to take hold of you. I'm convinced you caught something while you were away yesterday. In the morning you were hale. Full of vigour, with a healthy pink colour to your cheeks. That was all gone from you the moment I looked at you last night." she said.
"I'm just… it's just fatigue, I'm sure." he said.
"Sure. You just rest, George. I shall return to you soon, I promise." she said as she went to him, and bent down to kiss his cheek.
"You're still too warm for my liking. Don't worry. You won't be without me for long." Rhiannon nodded..
"Very well. Mind yourself, my lady." he whispered.
"Do not worry. I will return to you forthwith." she assured him.
Normally she would have sought out her friends, or headed to the back property of the castle for target practice, but Rhiannon was determined to find Sir Guy. She made her way to the main floor. After asking a few staff, she was directed to the Council Quarters. She explained to the sentry she needed to see him, and that it was about her betrothed. He relented and announced her arrival. Guy nodded and signalled for the sentry to send her in.
She was surprised to see her brother was there with Sir Guy.
Guy stood from the table and went to her.
"I'm surprised to see you, Milady Rhiannon. I thought you'd be needing your rest." Guy said.
"Yes. Well, you thought wrong. It is not I people need to be concerned about. Have you taken a good look at my betrothed?" she asked, pointedly.
"We just met with him not long ago. He does seem a little pale, but he was fine at the meeting." he said.
"Fine? He's a mess! He didn't even argue when I told him I was leaving the chambers for a time. I'm telling you, Sir Guy, I don't know who the hell that is sitting in the den of the private chambers just now, but, that is not my George." Rhiannon sighed.
"What's going on?" Guy asked.
"He returned from your meeting and seated himself in the den. He hasn't moved from the chair since. He was nodding off in mid conversation with me. Prior to that, he almost looked like… he was in pain. Perhaps the expression on his face was his attempt at masking fatigue. I'm not certain, but, something is off." Rhiannon said, adamantly.
"Perhaps he just needs a good rest, Rhiannon?" Robert suggested.
"I think he managed to doze off for a short while prior to his meeting. Yes, perhaps a good long sleep after I force him to take some soup. He keeps saying he's not hungry. I saw him ingest one measly grape today. That's it." Rhiannon said.
"You both have endured a lot since you were found last evening. It's on point for him that he would see to your needs ahead of his own. Perhaps now he'll be too exhausted to fight it any longer?" Guy suggested.
Robert shifted and looked downcast. He knew he should probably speak up about what the Sheriff's top men had told him the night before, but the Sheriff was going to great lengths to keep the matter to himself. He wasn't certain which would be worse to deal with — the Sheriff's ire, or Rhiannon's. He sighed. It wasn't his place to say anything — not yet, but he would be vigilant.
"That's not even the reason I wanted to see you, but upon seeing the state of him after I readied myself to leave the chambers, I was compelled to bring this to your attention." Rhiannon said.
"What was the other matter , Lady Rhiannon?" Guy asked.
"I'm still deciding on what to gift him on our wedding day, and his birthday. Have you had a moment to think more about it?"
"Well, no. But, now that you mention it, he could probably use a new sword. He's had his sword for years." Guy said.
"That sounds easy enough. What say you, Robert?" she asked her brother.
"Right. A new sword." he said.
"The steel will be arriving in two days time from Spain. Would that give you enough time to craft him one?" Guy asked.
"Yes. Just in time. I shall speak to Eustace about it." Robert nodded.
"That is good. That will work. Make it special, Brother. I want him to love it." she said.
"Very well. I shall confer with Sir Guy about added touches to make it personalized for him." Robert smiled.
"Perfect, Brother. Thank you." she nodded. Then, she turned to Gisborne. "I better go and check on him. I may come looking for you again, Sir Guy. Just so you're aware." Rhiannon warned, with a knowing quirk of her brow.
"Very well. I'm sure he'll return to normal after a hot bowl of soup and a good sleep." he tried to assuage her.
"Let us hope." Rhiannon began. "Something is going on with him, and I'm going to get to the bottom of it. I must for the good of his health, because he is stubbornly hiding something. This is more than an alteration in humours, as the medicus would call it. It shall be to his detriment if I don't find out, I fear.
"You will probably see me again, Sir Guy — or someone sent at my behest. If I don't see improvement, I will persist." a beat. "And, if my guess is right, you should consider whom shall take his place temporarily. He… may not be fit for a few days." Rhiannon said softly, yet matter of factly.
Both Guy and Robert were stunned at her strength and ability to contrive so well considering all she'd endured in the last twenty four hours.
"Noted, Milady Rhiannon. I shall check in with him before I retire. The medicus is still on site, as well." Guy said.
"Sis? You… uh… might want to check with Luke and the other two top men, if he doesn't improve and… you need answers." Robert suggested.
"What do you know, Brother?" Rhiannon asked as her eyes narrowed, suspiciously.
"They were by his side all of yesterday, dearest. Perhaps they could tell you what they know, and when they noticed the… change in him?" Robert pointed out.
"Right. We shall see. Both of you be on alert." she said.
The men nodded, and then she took her leave.
The Sheriff's top men were enjoying their reprieve and gathered in the Dining Hall for food and refreshments. They toyed with the idea of going to the Tavern, but thought better of it, considering they would be needed for the search mission on the morrow.
They feasted on roast chicken, with vegetables, and whipped potatoes, bread, and an assortment of cheese, and fruit. The servant had just brought them a pitcher of ale, as they began a conversation pertaining to their master.
"Did you end up giving that report from the medicus in Newerche to Crumwell, Luke?" Mordrid asked.
"It got missed last evening with all of the unexpected chaos that was going on. I spoke to the Sheriff privately about that after our meeting, since… it appeared he was keeping that to himself." Luke said, as he took a sip of ale.
"He really looks… bad, doesn't he?" Ancel sighed.
"He does look pale, but he was sharp as an arrowhead as usual at the meeting. He didn't miss a beat, and he was full of very well thought out plans." Mordrid added.
"That is true, but why do I have a sinking feeling about it?" Luke pondered.
"Because we're not accustomed to seeing him in such a state." Mordrid said.
"You mentioned your uncle is a medicus, Ancel. Has he ever mentioned that one would appear to be pallid if the wound begins festering?" Luke asked.
"No. He doesn't usually go into too many details at family events. He says it's not cheery dining conversation. I've only picked up a few things from listening to him confer with other professionals on the topic, or, on occasion, seeing him in action." Ancel said as he took a bite of chicken from his fork.
"I see." Luke nodded.
"You never did tell us, Luke. What did the Sheriff have to say about you giving that report to Crumwell?" Mordrid asked.
"He asked me to defer doing that until the morrow. He said something about the timing being wrong, for reasons he didn't wish to elaborate on." Luke said, as he took a bite of bread.
"Naturally. I'd suggest being ready to give it to Crumwell in the morning, Luke. I've a feeling the Sheriff is going to keep on deferring. For instance, besides us sharing this with Robert, do you think anyone knows… anything?" Mordrid pondered over a sip of ale.
"I'm guessing that some people are wondering, but don't know the truth of it. He doesn't associate with anyone who is… addled. Just my observation, so far. I noticed Sir Guy regarding him with a look of concern at times, both last night, and again at the meeting earlier. I'd wager even Lady Rhiannon is wondering." Ancel said with a knowing quirk of his brow.
"Who would know precisely which room Crumwell is staying in? In case I need to find him before the morning?" Luke asked.
"It appeared to me that the sentry manning the doors of Milord's private chambers took care of that. Incidentally, he's posted there at the same time every evening." Mordrid said.
"Right. I'll stop by and have a word with him. I want to know where to find the medicus if he is needed. If he's not needed, I will pay him a visit in the morning." Luke said.
"Good plan." Ancel nodded.
Luke took a generous swill of the ale. He had more than just one plan in mind for keeping the Sheriff safe.
Guy had just entered into his chambers, holding a tray. He found his wife reclined on the sofa reading her large book about Lancelot.
"Feeling hungry, my lady? I brought some favourites." Guy said as he set the tray on a table nearby.
"Thank you, Guy. Yes, that's fine." she said. Then she looked again to the pages in her book.
"Meridwyn?"
"Yes?" she replied, keeping her eyes on the page of her book.
"I want my wife back." he said, simply.
Meridwyn paused a moment, then closed the book, placing it on her lap.
"That hurt yesterday, Guy. Right in front of Robert. I'm not accustomed to hearing your voice raised, and certainly not with company present." Meridwyn sighed. She sat up from her semi reclined position and put her feet on the floor as she regarded him. Her bright blue eyes glistening, as tears formed.
"I apologize, my dear. I was pressed, and I misspoke." Guy said as he went to her.
"Very well, Guy. If you're sincere."
"Of course, my dear." he said.
"And if you could be mindful not to admonish me in the company of anyone in future, that would be grand." a beat. "God knows I don't want to be one of those wives." Meridwyn sighed.
"I will, my dearest. Now, what would you like to start with? Chicken soup, or the mini venison pies?" he grinned.
"The venison pies, of course. I'll just have one, maybe two. I'd be better to stick to soup. I fear I'm getting too stout." she frowned.
"You are not, Meridwyn. You're lovely." he smiled as he kissed her cheek. Then he went to the table where the tray was placed to bring her a plate with the pies.
"Guy?" she called out to him.
"Yes?"
"I saw a drawing on your desk in here. It sort of… looked like a house?" Meridwyn asked.
"It sort of is a house. A miniature one." he hinted.
"I don't follow, Guy."
"For our daughter's… dolls, dearest. It's a sketch of something I plan to build… in the future." he said.
"That is endearing, husband. But, a few things come to mind. Firstly, we don't know if it's a girl. It could be a boy. Second, that's a long way into the future if it even is a girl. Third, it could bring us bad luck." a beat. "I'm frightened, Guy. What if something happened to our child? What if that was our daughter who is being prepared for burial, as our niece is now?"
"My love, you mustn't fill your mind with those thoughts. It's not for us to know why this happened to my cousin and Lady Rhiannon. All we can do is cherish each day you carry our child, and hope for the best outcome possible." Guy said, softly.
He wished he could reassure Meridwyn that Lady Rhiannon was known to have difficulties with childbirth, there was clear evidence of that with her first child. But, Meridwyn didn't know about the boy, and he couldn't share it.
"In my head I know you're right. But, what happened with Rhiannon gave me a fright. Our babies were due to arrive close to the same time." Meridwyn frowned.
"I know, Meridwyn. Feel for her all you want, but don't take on the burden completely. Don't will what happened to her upon yourself." he pointed out.
"I shall try." she said as she nibbled on the venison pie.
"Now, I've a question for you." he said.
"Very well. What is it?"
"Have you noticed anything… odd about my cousin since — "
"Since last night? Yes, Guy. A few things." Meridwyn answered with no hesitation.
"Tell me." he pressed.
"He was acting rather peculiar after you and the men left him in the chambers last night. Isabelle and I noticed him stopping for a few moments every now and again. It appeared he was bent slightly forward, holding his abdomen. Then he'd straighten up and act normally. He's also quite pale." Meridwyn explained.
"Interesting. I think I noticed him behave similarly."
"Rhiannon mentioned something to myself and Isabelle yesterday." she hinted.
"What was that?"
"She said that soon after he carried her through the front doors, Luke and another of the Black Knights by the name of Ancel were insistent he have Luke carry her to the private chambers. He told them to stop fussing over him, as if it wasn't the first time they were doing so." Meridwyn said.
"Now, that is very interesting." Guy mused.
"What are you thinking, Guy?" she asked.
"I'm going to stop by his chambers to check on his welfare after we finish dining. It would make me feel better." he said.
"A wise plan, husband." Meridwyn nodded.
The sentry posted at the door of the Sheriff's private chambers was surprised to see one of the Sheriff's top men approaching.
"Good evening, Officer Luke. I'll let the Sheriff know you're here." the young man said.
Luke stopped him just as he was about to knock on the door.
"No. Do not bother him. Milord and his lady need their rest. Can you direct me to the quarters of the medicus?" Luke asked.
"Aye. Keep walking and turn left. It's the third door down on the left." the sentry reported.
"Good. Oh, by the way, I'm here to relieve you. I don't think we've met before?"
"I'm Beric. It's nice to formally make your acquaintance; but, it's not time for a reprieve?" the sentry questioned.
"No. I'm here to relieve you for the night." Luke said.
"That's funny. The Sheriff didn't mention that. I am here every night… since Alfred was tasked with guarding the dungeon." the sentry said.
"It's just for tonight. His Lordship requested it." Luke lied, yet maintained his gaze.
"I see."
"You shall resume your duties on the morrow., Beric." he added.
"So… what then? What is my assignment now?"
"You are… free until the morrow."
"Just like that?"
"Yes." Luke nodded. He hoped his decision wouldn't anger the Sheriff.
"Very well. Who am I to question when the Gods finally grant my wish? It's not the most pleasant of assignments. It's usually rather dull — "
"I started out at this post. I'm aware. I'm sure I'll manage." Luke said.
"Of course, Officer Luke. I'll leave you to it, then." he said, then he cheerfully took his leave.
The Sheriff and his lady were seated in the den of the private chambers. The Sheriff was acting a little more like himself and Rhiannon was pleased that he finally was eating. It wasn't much, but he managed to nearly finish a bowl of soup.
"I'm glad you listened to me and finally fortified yourself, even if it was only soup." Rhiannon said.
"It did help." he nodded.
She arose from her seat and went to him. She reached out to him, placing her left palm on his forehead.
"You're still quite warm to the touch. I suggest you switch out that brandy for water and get yourself to bed, George."
"You're starting to sound like Thomas." he sighed.
"Maybe I learned a few things? You really need your rest." she reminded him.
"Perhaps after some water, my dear. And, you need to rest with me." he said, with a quirk of his brow.
At this point, Gisborne was heading down the corridor toward his cousin's private chambers. He was a bit surprised to find Luke manning the door.
"Luke? What in the devil are you doing here? You're one of the top men — not meant to be doing this assignment."
"I'm covering the sentry for his reprieve." Luke said.
"That's good. You're needed for the search on the morrow. We wouldn't want you posted here for the night when you need to rest for the morrow."
"Of course, Sir Guy. It is only for a short while. I shall announce your arrival." Luke said.
He wrapped on the door. Within moments, Lady Rhiannon stood before them.
"Good even, Milady Rhiannon. Sir Guy is here to see the Sheriff." Luke announced.
"Very well. Thank you, Luke. Come in, Sir Guy." Rhiannon said as she beckoned him inside.
"How is he now?" Guy whispered.
"I finally talked him into eating something. He's still pale, and his skin feels a bit warm, but he's much more responsive. We shall see." Rhiannon said, softly.
"It's a good start." he whispered.
"Ah, Gis." Nottingham said as he stood from his seat. "Are there any problems?"
"No. Just came by to tell you I've completed the tasks you requested. All is well." Guy said as he walked toward him.
"So, the dungeon is in order, and no malcontents have plagued the portcullis?" he asked with his eyebrow quirked.
"Aye. A rather uneventful day thus far." Guy nodded.
"That's good to hear. Are you sure that is all?"
"Not unless, there is anything you need?"
"No. I've everything I need. " the Sheriff said.
Guy didn't want to ask him directly how he was feeling. It would only annoy his cousin. Guy could see he still looked rather pale. Except for that, he seemed to be behaving normally.
"Very well. If you think of anything do let me know." Guy said.
"I will, Gis. I'm sure you've better things to do than fuss over me."
"Cousin?"
"We've a 'no news is good news' policy around here. You didn't need to come by to tell me there is nothing of consequence to report." a beat. "I know why you're here." the Sheriff said. Then his eyebrow shot north.
Guy stood wordlessly, uncertain how to respond.
"We're fine here, Gis. Rhiannon is doing well. I'm feeling more like myself. We just dined."
"That is good news, indeed, Cousin." Guy said.
"I appreciate the concern, but all is well." the Sheriff said.
"Good. Well, do alert me if there's anything you need."
"Of course." he said.
Guy bid goodnight to them both then took his leave.
Later, the Sheriff took his place to the left of Lady Rhiannon on the bed. She was seated against several fluffy pillows, attempting to read her book about Erec and Enide. He was semi reclined and beginning to close his eyes. At this stage he couldn't fight sleep any longer.
The fire was roaring in the fireplace at the wall past the foot of the bed. The Sheriff was still wearing his breeches and a tunic, and, oddly for him, was covered by a blanket despite being almost fully clothed. Rhiannon found that strange. She would stay by his side, putting off her own sleep until she was certain he would be well.
Several hours passed and most everyone was tucked into their beds, asleep; save for some of the Sheriff's men who were dutifully keeping watch at various locations on the grounds, at the portcullis, and inside the castle. Luke was among them, still standing guard at the door of the Sheriff's private chambers.
At one point recently, he contemplated his move, wondering if this was such a good idea. He brushed it off, still guided by the strong hunch he couldn't shake. He needed to be vigilant, and if all turned out well, he would see the medicus first thing in the morning, and he'd have to find a way to work through fatigue on the morrow.
By this time, both the Sheriff and his lady were fast asleep. She was still reclined with her open book laid upon her lap. He had pulled the blanket to his chin, and was succumbing to the strangest of dreams…
He was walking through the mazes of gardens in back of the castle. Rhiannon would be in the wooded area, practicing with her bow. He wanted to see how she was faring, and encourage her to come inside. The clouds in the sky portended an imminent storm.
He made it close to the wooded area. He could see someone just ahead of him, maybe ten yards away; but, it wasn't Rhiannon. The figure was too small. They were dressed similarly to Rhiannon when she was out here shooting arrows at the target. They had their hood pulled up. It appeared to be a child? Was that… the Page? What was he doing here?
The child took aim and fired an arrow, directly hitting the target at centre mass. When did the Page develop such skill? The boy was usually distracted, and not known for talent with weapons. The Sheriff found it hard to believe what he was seeing.
"Boy! What are you doing with my lady's weapons?" he called out.
The child stopped, then turned to face him. It wasn't the Page. It was a young girl. The Sheriff moved in closer to her until he was approximately eight feet away from her. He moved in slowly with his eyes narrowed, trying to place her.
Her cheeks were rosy, and her dark curls were blowing in the wind beneath her hood. Her eyes were familiar. They were an amber hazel colour, framed by long dark lashes. He swallowed when he realized. They were like his.
"Father." she smiled.
"What?" he asked, slowly.
"Do not be afraid, Father. It is I."
"But, you're… grown? Sort of. I had one daughter. She was too small to live. You are… quite a bit older." he said.
"Of course, Father. How else could I speak with you?" she smiled.
"This isn't happening. This isn't real." the Sheriff muttered, then looked downcast.
"It is as real as we're permitted." she said.
"How… what is your age, child?" he asked, still bewildered by this strange encounter.
"If I were standing before you in life, I would be eleven years. Old enough to know some things, and not too young to babble a load of nonsense. That's… not what you need." she said, sounding quite sage for a young girl.
"Would you… have looked like this had you… lived?"
"Yes, Father. They tell me I'm you, through and through. They say I have my father's eyes." she beamed at him.
"Who tells you this, daughter?" he asked, curiously.
"Grandmother and Grandsire Nottingham, Grandmother and Grandsire Wordsworth, Uncle Edward, and Uncle Gawain." the girl smiled.
"Uncle… Gawain? Don't you mean Uncle Nic?"
"I don't know a Nic, Father. Just Uncle Edward, and your brother, Uncle Gawain. There's also your Uncle Gilbert, but I don't see him as much as the others." she shrugged.
"What's he… like? Gawain?"
"Like you, but small -- like me." She smiled.
"Has your mother seen you?" he asked, curiously.
"No. She doesn't need me. You do."
"Why?"
The child sighed.
"Grandmother Nottingham tried to tell you. You must heed the warnings. They are there, but you ignore them." the child frowned.
"What? What am I ignoring?" the Sheriff asked.
"Yourself."
"I don't understand." he sighed.
"You're close, Father. Close to having a real family. But, you are also close to… "
The wind picked up just then. Myriad leaves in a variety of autumn colours began to swirl around her. Some crimson red leaves also fell in front of him, landing at his feet. They always reminded him of blood, and he had no idea why.
"Speak plainly, child. Close to… what?" he asked, pointedly.
"Close to this. Come. Let's spar, Father!" she challenged.
She dropped the bow and quiver of arrows on the ground, and unsheathed a small sword from her scabbard, which he never noticed she was carrying before now.
"This… what? What are you talking about?" the Sheriff asked, pointedly.
"An existence like mine. Peaceful, somewhat floaty, and free." she giggled. "I'm just as good as you, Father. You cannot best me." she grinned as she nodded to her blade.
"You are just like her." he scoffed.
The Sheriff couldn't help but notice the girl had some of Rhiannon in her, too. Her fiery spirit, and the exact same sweetheart shaped lips that Rhiannon has.
"I am part of you both, but they tell me I'm more like you. What does it matter? Come, Father!" she urged him, excitedly.
"When… will I be with you?"
"You mean… all of the time? That is… in three days time, or, the month of May." she shrugged.
"This… makes no sense." he sighed, shaking his head.
He tried to walk closer toward her, but she seemed to move farther away, even though she wasn't actually moving her feet.
"What is your name?" he called to her.
"Sela. Do hurry, Father! The wind is picking up. There is blood at your feet." she warned him.
"What? Why do autumn leaves remind me of blood?"
"Grandmother. You saw the blood. She left you in November. Just as I have. Just as you and I were born in this month, except, I arrived here -- just like Uncle Gawain. Come, Father! The blood is pooling. Look down."
The Sheriff looked down to where the fallen leaves gathered around his boots. Except, they were no longer leaves. It was blood pooling at his feet. He looked up. The child was laughing, encouraging him to follow her, but she was farther away, and he couldn't move from the spot where he stood.
"Sela! Daughter! Come back to me, my dear." he implored her.
"It will be alright. Do not fear, Father." the pretty little girl called back, her voice echoing in the distance.
"No! When will I see you again?"
"From time to time. Or, in three days time, or… the month of May." she giggled.
Why must she speak in riddles? He sighed.
"Sela! Come back, daughter!" he called out to her.
Rhiannon was jolted awake as she could sense her betrothed's restlessness. He had sweat beading on his skin as he moved his head back and forth. He looked like he was trying to speak, but no words were coming. She sat up and reached over to gently touch his forehead. He was burning up. She pulled the blanket from him. His tunic was damp from sweat. She gently tried to shake him awake.
"George." she whispered. "Wake up, George!"
He didn't respond right away. She bolted from the bed, as her book fell to the floor. There was no time to worry about it now. She quickly went to the table where the mirror was. A basin of cool water was there. She grabbed a soft cloth, wet it, and half wrung it out which was challenging with one hand, then brought it to him, applying it to his brow, then his face.
"George! You must wake up, sugar!" she called.
"Sela! Come… back." he whispered.
"George!" she tried shaking him again.
"Sela… " he whispered once more.
She didn't know whom he was referring to, but it mattered not at this moment. She needed to get that damp tunic off of him. She reached across, gently putting her hand on his abdomen to try to shake him again. She felt something bulky beneath the tunic. She lifted the tunic and was horrified to see he was bandaged. It was covered in fresh blood.
"God damn it, George! Wake up, for God's sake!" she shouted.
"Child… " he whispered. "Do not… leave. Come… back." he whispered.
"Curses! Leave it to you to keep a secret such as this." she muttered, shaking her head with a sigh as tears pooled in her eyes.
She grabbed her dressing gown from the foot of the bed and threw it on. Her left arm was in the sleeve, the other side draped over her shoulder as there was no time to fuss with the cursed sling. Then, you she ran through the bedchamber and out through the den. She arrived breathlessly to the door, and threw it open abruptly.
She was surprised to see Luke was still there at this hour.
"Milady Rhiannon?" he asked.
"He needs help, Luke. Right now!" Rhiannon said, urgently.
"I shall get the medicus, Milady. What shall I tell him?"
"He's bleeding quite a bit, and he will not awaken! Go, Luke. Do hurry back!" she insisted.
He nodded and quickly made haste.
Within moments he was knocking on the door of Crumwell's quarters. Soon the door opened. The bleary eyed medicus stood before him, wearing breeches and a loose tunic hanging over them.
"Yes? How can I help you?" Crumwell asked.
"The Sheriff needs you, Master Crumwell." Luke said.
"Is Lady Rhiannon — "
"It's not Lady Rhiannon. It's about Milord Sheriff. On Sunday, he was accidentally shot with an arrow while hunting. Myself and two other of his men were with him. He was stitched up and bandaged by a medicus in Newerche. The medicus wrote a report to give to you." Luke quickly briefed him. He reached into the pocket of his doublet and extracted a scroll. He passed it to Crumwell.
"Why wasn't I informed of this before now?"
"He asked me to wait until today to give it to you." Luke said.
"Very well. I shall fetch my bag." Thomas said.
He left Luke standing at the threshold for a moment or two, and soon returned to him holding his bag.
"Alright. Let's go. Tell me, what is happening with him right now?" Thomas asked as he closed the door.
"He is bleeding quite a bit, and not very… responsive. Lady Rhiannon said he's not waking up." Luke said as they quickly made their way to the private chambers.
"Stubborn fool." Thomas muttered.
Lady Rhiannon was continuing to tend to him, mopping his brow and his face. She managed to get the tunic off of him, which was difficult with one hand. She cursed the sling as she did so. He began to shiver, then opened his eyes and looked up at her.
"My… lady." he whispered.
"Shh. Shh. Don't talk, my love. Thomas will be here any second. Luke was guarding the door and he went to get him." she whispered.
"Luke? But, he's… not — "
"It matters not, sugar. Now, tell me just one thing. You were calling for someone named Sela."
Just then Thomas and Luke came through the bedchamber doors.
"Who is Sela?" she asked.
"Our… daughter." he whispered.
She looked at him, trying to conceal the look of horror on her face.
"Sela was your aunt, Milord Sheriff. Your father's sister who died only months before him. She was close to both of your parents." Thomas said.
"What?" Nottingham whispered.
Thomas went to him, instructing Luke to light the torches in the room and to bring one near the bed.
"You should have informed me of this on Sunday night, Milord. I shall have to work fast. There's no time to get Lady Margaret here." Thomas said.
He looked to Rhiannon. "It's a gamble, but I'd like your sister in law here to assist me. She did well yesterday looking after you. I think she'll be useful."
"Couldn't I assist?" she asked.
"Isabelle proved she doesn't faint at the sight of blood. She will be helpful. You can stay, but you're too close to him, Milady." Thomas said.
"Very well." Rhiannon relented as a tear spilled onto her cheek. She wiped it away and noticed Luke approaching the bedside, holding a torch.
"I'll take that." she said as she grabbed the torch from Luke. "I need you to wake Isabelle, and also Sir Guy. Both need to come at once. When you return, I need you to summon Mortianna for me." she directed him.
"Very well." he nodded.
"And, just as we did for Lady Rhiannon recently, I need two clean sheets to place under him, then over him when it's done, plenty of clean rags, and clean water. Plus a strong wine, or spirit to disinfect the wound, and wash my hands with." Thomas instructed.
"As you wish." Luke said. He quickly made haste to carry out his tasks.
Thomas opened his bag and extracted a few of the clean rags he had in there. He passed them to Lady Rhiannon.
"I'm going to remove this bandage, Milady. Then I need you to apply pressure to the wound with those clean rags when I tell you to, Alright? I'll take the torch. And while you do that, I'm going to quickly read through this surgical report that Officer Luke gave to me." Thomas said.
"Of course, Thomas. But… surgical report?" she asked, rather astonished.
"A medicus in Newerche tended to him on Sunday. He wrote a report for me."
She looked at him, shaking her head in disbelief.
"Don't think on that now, Milady. I need you to pay attention. I'm removing the soiled bandage now." he said as he began to unravel the bandage. Next, he used a clean dagger to cut the cloth, stripping it from the Sheriff.
"Now! Apply the pressure now, Milady. Lots of pressure, even if he takes issue with it!" Thomas said, urgently.
She made a wad with the rags and pressed down over the wound.
The Sheriff moaned in response and attempted to push her hand away. She applied the pressure with her left hand, wishing it was as strong as her dominant hand. She wished she had an extra hand to swat his away.
"Shh. It will be alright, George. Don't move my hand. I know it hurts, but you mustn't!"
He moaned again but removed his hands from hers. His eyes closed and he became quiet, the only sound was his shallow breathing.
Thomas held the report near the torch in order to read it.
"Did he not… check the blood vessels weren't actively bleeding before he closed him?" Thomas muttered with a sigh, shaking his head.
"What is it, Thomas?" Rhiannon asked.
"Just that I seem to have my work cut out for me. Bleeding and contagion inside the wound. It's quite obvious. Keep applying pressure, Milady. Do not relent." he advised, firmly.
"It's… becoming saturated." Rhiannon informed him as her own rate of breathing increased.
Thomas nodded and grabbed a couple more clean rags from his bag. He set the scroll in his bag, then quickly wadded the rags.
"I'm going to take over from you for just a moment. Follow my instructions."
"Very well." she nodded.
He moved her hand from the bleeding wound and passed her the wadded rags. He took the saturated rags from the wound, using a clean end of it to mop at the seeping blood, then tossed it to the floor.
"Apply pressure again. Now." he said, firmly.
She did so as her betrothed lay still on the bed. This time he didn't respond to the pain.
"George, what in God's hell were you thinking?" she whispered into his ear. "Don't you dare leave me. Do you hear me?" she whispered softly, so that only he might hear her words.
"Rhiannon… " he murmured.
"I love you so… " she whispered, still applying pressure to the wound.
Just then Luke returned with Lady Isabelle into the bedchamber.
"Sir Guy will be here imminently, Lady Rhiannon." Luke said.
She nodded, then Luke left to head to the door in the den that led down into Mortianna's apothecary.
"What has happened?" Isabelle exclaimed.
"He was wounded with an arrow while hunting, Lady Isabelle. A medicus in Newerche tended to him, but… didn't do a very good job of it." Thomas sighed.
"What would you have me do?" Isabelle asked.
"You're going to assist me. We're waiting on the servants to arrive with clean bed linens, clean rags, water and disinfectant before I open him back up." Thomas said.
"You're going to… what?" Rhiannon asked, incredulously.
"I must, Milady. He's bleeding inside and it's coming through the wound. It has to be stopped, or the outcome will be grave." Thomas explained.
"Dear God!" she exclaimed. "Very well. Do what you must." she sighed. She was beginning to feel a bit sick, so she focused on her breathing to prevent it.
At this point, Guy came hurriedly into the room. He was aghast when he saw the amount of blood coming from an unknown wound on his cousin.
"What in God's nightgown is happening here? Did… someone stab him?" Guy demanded.
"I'll fill you in as we go, Sir Guy. There was no intruder. The injury happened while he was hunting. Perhaps Officer Luke could explain it when he returns with Mortianna." Thomas explained.
"So, he's been hiding it?" Guy asked.
"Yes, Sir Guy. Isn't that just like him?" Rhiannon sighed as she continued to apply pressure.
Guy shook his head and sighed.
Just then Luke reappeared with Mortianna. She was carrying a small cauldron of boiled water as she recalled it was useful when Lady Rhiannon needed mending nearly two months prior.
"Would this be useful, Master Crumwell? It was requested of me the last time a similar situation occurred in these chambers." Mortianna said.
"It's perfect, Mortianna. Set it on the table over there by the mirror; carefully, so as not to contaminate it with the basin of cold water that's already there. I shall place the necessary instruments in there. After that, I need you to hold the torch for me." Thomas instructed.
The witch nodded and carried out the tasks.
Guy nodded to Luke to join him in the den. They found a spot away from the doors of the private chambers to speak freely.
"Luke, what the hell happened? And, why in the devil are we only finding out about this now?" Guy asked quietly, but firmly, with his arms folded.
"He was accidentally shot with an arrow. The Prince summoned the medicus in Newerche to his manse to tend to Milord Sheriff." Luke whispered.
"What? Who the hell was so careless? How… does one accidentally shoot another with an arrow?" he demanded.
"Prince John fired the arrow. There was a fog present so he didn't have a good visual on the target to begin with. The fog cleared and he realized it was the Sheriff he hit, not the stag." Luke explained.
"What? Imbecile! Who shoots an arrow in heavy fog?"
"Apparently, His Royal Highness does." Luke said with a knowing look, then rolled his eyes.
"My cousin must have been livid with him."
"Actually, he wasn't, Sir Guy. He was quite calm about it, oddly. The Prince was very apologetic." Luke said.
"You're right. That is odd." Guy remarked.
"The medicus stitched him up, dressed his wound, and gave him a vial of opium for the pain with instructions on how to take it. He also wrote a surgical report and gave it to me." Luke explained.
"Does Thomas have that report?"
"Yes. Just when I went to summon him. The Sheriff didn't want me to give it to him until later today, but I was planning to see him in the morning."
"Is this why you were posted at the door?"
"Yes. I had a strong hunch that I couldn't shake. He's been looking poorly since the incident happened." Luke said.
"You were right to do so. He'll appreciate that if… he comes out of this. That's a lot of blood. Looks to me like the medicus in Newerche didn't do a very good job of it." Guy sighed.
"Indeed. I'm going to step out and see what's taking the servants so long. Thomas needs plenty of clean rags before he begins." Luke said.
Guy nodded while Luke exited the chambers.
"You performed well yesterday, Isabelle. I need you to, once more, not fail me. This will be different than anything you've seen, but, blood is blood. Except, there will be a lot of it in this case. You can look away for very brief moments if you must, but I need you to focus for me, and heed my instructions. We're not afforded the time to get Lady Margaret here. You must perform her role in her stead." Thomas advised Isabelle.
"Understood. I will do my best to assist, Master Crumwell."
"Is your ankle wrapped?" Thomas asked.
"Yes. It relieves the discomfort to keep it wrapped."
"Do you feel up to the task?" he asked.
"Yes. I'm sure I can manage." Isabelle nodded. "Now, what are we going to do about controlling pain while you work on him? Dwale? Hemlock?" she asked, curiously.
"I can't risk it in this case. The bleeding is too heavy, and I can already tell that wound is festering. Those alone can be a shock to him. I'm confident he won't feel much, anyway. He's at that point from the blood loss." Thomas said.
"I see." she said.
Isabelle hoped his guess was correct about the Sheriff not feeling anything. The task ahead was going to be a challenge for her. She hoped she could meet it without retching anywhere near the wound. She had been been feeling a little off for the last few days.
Luke entered the room with a few servants who carried the requested items. Thomas advised the servants where to put everything, then he dismissed them. He asked Isabelle to take over the wound pressure from Rhiannon, using two clean rags to do so, and instructed Rhiannon to continue to hold the torch.
Guy stood at the doorway observing how Crumwell was orchestrating every move. There were quite a few people in the chamber, but each were playing an important role.
"Sir Gisborne? Could you come here a moment?" Thomas asked, beckoning with a wave of his fingers.
"What do you need, Thomas?" Guy asked as he walked closer toward him.
"You and I, and Officer Luke are going to turn him side to side getting him off of that soiled sheet, and put a clean sheet beneath him. It's important. His wound is festering on top of everything else. Everything touching him needs to be clean." Thomas said, firmly.
"Very well." he nodded.
"Isabelle, you're going to stay where you are, maintaining constant pressure to that wound while we do this. I don't care how you achieve it. You can use your fist, heel of your hand, whatever it takes to help you maintain pressure. Alright?" Thomas instructed.
"As you wish." Isabelle nodded.
"Once he's positioned on the clean sheet, Milady Rhiannon will apply the pressure for a moment. Your hands need disinfecting. We're going to start with you, because following that you will again resume applying pressure while I disinfect my own hands. Following that, you remove the rags at my signal, we pour wine over the area, and then I commence. You shall have an abundance of clean rags always in your hand. Try and count them as we go." Thomas instructed.
"Got it. Apply pressure during sheet change; hand off to my sister in law; disinfect my hands; reapply pressure; remove the rags at your signal; have clean rags at the ready, and count them." Isabelle recited, pleased with herself.
"Very good." Thomas nodded. "We've gone through six rags now, plus the bandage. I'm guessing that was the one the medicus in Newerche applied." Thomas said.
"Negative. That was the second bandage. The Sheriff told me he redressed and cleaned the wound right before our meeting in the afternoon." Luke said.
Guy shook his head and sighed.
"That's a lot of blood. I'm guessing it's been half a day since he dressed it." a beat. "Right. Let's get started, then." Thomas said.
After they had the Sheriff repositioned on the bed with the fresh clean sheet underneath him, Guy looked to Thomas.
"Am I needed for anything else? I can't be a witness to this butchery. I'll just be in your way as I'll be needing one of those basins over there… " he nodded toward the table with the mirror. "… to heave into if I must stay too… close." Guy said with a grimace.
"First off, it's not butchery, Sir Guy. I'm going in to repair a problem caused by an arrow. If all goes well, he shall heal." he sighed. "You do have a strange colour to your face, however. Stay in the den for now. At some point I shall call you in to take that torch from Mortianna." Thomas advised.
"I could hold the torch, Thomas." Rhiannon said.
"You can, but you won't. Not while I'm here. You shall put your feet up. You can do it in here, but you will rest them for a time." Thomas said, firmly.
"Very well." she sighed.
Lady Meridwyn was restless in her chambers. She wasn't able to fall back to sleep after Guy was summoned. She wasn't even sure what exactly he was summoned for? She wrapped herself in her blue velvet dressing gown, after failing to focus on the words in her book, and headed over to the door.
She opened it and stepped outside looking up and down the corridor for any sign of her husband. She saw a flurry of activity at the north end of the corridor. Several servants were walking together and they turned toward where the staircase was located. She shrugged and was about to head back into her chambers, when she noticed Robert.
"Robert? Have you seen my husband?" Meridwyn asked.
"No, but I was wondering the same thing about my wife. I awakened not long ago, and she is gone." Robert said.
"That's odd. Guy was summoned a short while ago. I'm not sure where he was needed, however."
"I bet I can guess." Robert sighed.
"Do you think something has happened to Rhiannon?" she asked.
"No, because why would Sir Guy be summoned if it were Rhiannon in trouble? I think this has to do with Milord Sheriff." Robert said, shaking his head.
"Oh, my! Maybe we should head to his private chambers? Rhiannon will be sick with worry."
"If I'm right, there's going to be a lot going on in there at the moment." Robert warned.
"We could at least wait for word just outside the door. There's a bench close by." Meridwyn suggested.
"He would hate this, you know. So many people fussing and hovering over him. I don't know the man well, but I'd bet money on that." Robert sighed. "Very well. We'll wait outside. We only go in if we're summoned. I'm confident the medicus is with him, carefully organizing every detail."
"You're right. He would hate it, but that will just have to be too bad." Meridwyn said, with a knowing quirk of her brow.
"Right. Come, Lady Meridwyn. Let's see if we can learn anything." he beckoned her to follow him.
The procedure was underway. Thomas muttered curses under his breath when he got inside the abdominal cavity and saw the collection of blood there.
"Keep those rags coming, Isabelle. And, mop this up for me, will you? I need to see where the blood is oozing from." Thomas directed.
"I've got it." Isabelle said as she followed his command.
"Bloody… hell!" the Sheriff groaned.
"Bear with me, Milord. Do not move!" Thomas stated, firmly.
"Breathe, George. Focus on your breathing!" Rhiannon instructed.
"Get closer with that torch, Mortianna. Hold it above where I'm working." Thomas directed.
The witch nodded and followed his instruction.
"Sela… come back." Nottingham whispered, faintly.
Rhiannon sighed. As soon as he said he spoke to their daughter in his dreams, she knew things were grave. He wasn't exactly a man who was receptive to the unexplained.
"Hold on, George." she whispered. "He's almost done."
"The hell I am!" Thomas whispered so the Sheriff couldn't hear him. "The medicus — If you can style him as such -- from Newerche, was obviously in over his head. I've a real mess to fix. Curses! Keep those rags coming, Isabelle!"
Guy could hear quite a bit from where he stood in the den. He knew he should return to take over from Lady Rhiannon, but he could feel the blood draining from his face, and a salty taste starting in the back of his throat. He needed out of there, and he needed to do it now.
He stepped outside the chambers into the corridor, his back against the door and then he bent forward, taking deep breaths.
"Husband! Are you alright?" Meridwyn exclaimed as she moved quickly toward him.
"Meridwyn?" Guy asked. He looked up and noticed Robert was there, too.
"What is happening, Guy?"
"A moment, wife!" he said firmly, with his hand up while his head was bent down. He wished the balcony was closer. He needed air.
Guy took a few moments to get rid of the salty taste in back of his throat, and take a few measured breaths before refocusing on his wife and Robert.
"That's… a bit better." Guy sighed.
"Can you tell us what has transpired?" Robert asked.
"It's my cousin. He was wounded with an arrow while hunting. He was mended in Newerche, but, it seems the bloke who posed as a medicus like a common mummer hadn't the slightest idea what he was doing." Guy frowned.
"How do you know this?" Meridwyn asked.
"Three things, Meridwyn: Luke just told me of the incident; Thomas had muttered complaints about the work of the first medicus; and thirdly… he looks like death warmed over. He was lying in a pool of blood until… Thomas had Luke and I assist with changing bed linens." Guy inhaled deeply as he felt his colour drain again.
"Oh, husband!" Meridwyn whispered.
"Thomas will know what to do. He's performed well helping my sister, and my wife." Robert said in an attempt to reassure him.
"I'm meant to return to take over holding the torch from Mortianna. I'm not sure I can. It looks… bad." Guy frowned.
"I will do it." Robert said.
"I'm grateful, Robert." Guy nodded.
"I shall alert you when it is done." Robert said before he stepped inside the private chambers.
Celestria was stirring in her bed. She opened her eyes and could see it was well past sundown from the glow of a few candles burning. She sat up, shaking her head. She remembered the fine morning repast that Lady Gunilda had prepared, and the soothing tea that she enjoyed with it. She recalled feeling relaxed after that. They dined together seated in chairs in the room. She recalled Gunilda taking the tray out of the room at the end of it, and then sitting on the bed. After that, she remembered nothing.
It was chill in the room. She arose out of the bed and grabbed a candlestick from the table nearby, while heading to the fireplace. She started by arranging tinder then kindling, setting it alight using the burning candle. Just as the fire began to burn well enough to add a log, she heard a knock on the door, then creaking as it opened. She turned and saw Lady Gunilda standing there.
"I didn't mean to sleep so late, only to nap. It must be just after sundown. Do you need assistance preparing the meal?" Celestria asked.
"My dear, we're well past sundown. In a few hours time it will be first light." Lady Gunilda smiled.
"What? I don't under — "
"My tea is known for its calming properties. Steeped with a drop of Devil's root. Just a tiny hint, and a needed rest follows." she grinned as she walked inside the room.
"If it is… past the witching hour, why are you awake?" Celestria asked.
"I had a fascinating meeting with my uncle's counsel last evening, while you were sleeping." Gunilda grinned as she pulled a scroll from a pocket in her gown. "Here it is. The Last Testament of my uncle with his express wishes that I am to… " Lady Gunilda paused as she scanned the document. "Ah, yes. By right of kinship and as the sole surviving heir I am bequeathed his home, his property, movable goods, his horse, and the totality of what is contained in his coffers." Gunilda looked away from the scroll as she continued. "My uncle called this place we're staying in a manor. Personally, I'd call it a cottage. I didn't think he had coffers. I figured if he had any coins he'd put them in a jar. I was directed to them with a separate note the counsel gave to me from my uncle. Turns out the old fellow was stashing it all in there — for me. Wasn't that thoughtful of him?" a beat. "We're going to go shopping later." Lady Gunilda winked.
"Do you think that's wise? He… doesn't know I survived the fire." Celestria pointed out.
"Ah! Right. I was so overwhelmed with my dear uncle's kind generosity, I forgot about that point." she sighed. "Indeed. Perhaps you should stay here. You are still mending. I can guess your size fairly accurately. You must promise not to step foot outside this… cottage." Lady Gunilda said, firmly.
"Very well."
"Try and rest while you can. I shall do the same. I'll let you know when I'm heading out. When I do, I won't be too long." Lady Gunilda said.
"I will." Celestria nodded.
"We will break our fast together before I go. There shall be eggs, bread, cheese, and a little bit of rabbit meat. I'm saving most of the meat for a stew I'm planning for our evening meal." Gunilda smiled.
"That sounds grand." Celestria said. "Perhaps I'll be of more use to you after further rest."
"Don't even think about that, Celestria. You were wounded and suffered some loss of blood. When you awaken I will take a look at it for signs of festering, before we break our fast."
"Very well." she nodded.
Back in the Sheriff's private chambers, Thomas was working diligently to control the problem at hand, trying valiantly to suppress his frustration. By this time, Robert was holding the torch, and Rhiannon had stepped out into the den. She had been sitting for a few moments with her legs elevated and couldn't bear to sit idle any longer, but she didn't wish to return just yet. So, she went to the main door and opened it, and saw Sir Guy and Meridwyn seated on a bench nearby. Guy was bent forward with his head down at his knees.
"Meridwyn? Sir Guy?" Rhiannon called.
"Oh, honey. There you are! Come and sit, dearest." Meridwyn said. She stood and guided Rhiannon over to the bench.
"It looks like Sir Guy needs to lay down… or something?" Rhiannon whispered.
"He'll be fine, Rhi. He doesn't do well with these procedures that Thomas takes care of. I thought he was going to lose his evening meal one night when he was trying to tell me about assisting in Stephanus' eye surgery." Meridwyn explained in a whisper.
"Oh, my!"
"Is he… holding on in there?" Meridwyn whispered as she nodded to the door of the chambers.
"So far. It's too unnerving being in there, Meridwyn. I can tell Thomas is quite displeased by the work of the first medicus who tended to George." Rhiannon sighed.
"Don't think on that now, honey. Come. Sit. There's plenty of room for the three of us." Meridwyn smiled.
"Curses! He just left that mesenteric artery oozing? Where on earth did the man obtain his credentials?" Thomas couldn't help but mutter aloud.
"Can you see well enough to work?" Isabelle asked. She had her hand inside the cavity mopping the blood. Then she tossed the rags and grabbed some clean ones from a basin of them on a table beside her.
"You're doing a fine job, Lady Isabelle. Your work at mopping the blood isn't… the problem." Thomas sighed.
"What is the problem?" Robert asked.
"Deciding on a suitable suture for anastomoses." Thomas said, matter of factly.
"What?" Robert, Isabelle, Mortianna and Luke asked, simultaneously.
"It's the term used for suturing one end of a blood vessel to the other end. It's not a straight cut that's present, else Milord Sheriff wouldn't be alive right now. The problem is the sutures I do have. Catgut is too tense, the silk I have is not fine enough, and lacks the tension needed." Thomas explained.
"Catgut?" Luke muttered, shaking his head.
"There must be some way, Master Crumwell?" Isabelle asked. "Can't you think of… anything?" she was beginning to feel warm and slightly lightheaded again. She took some slow deep breaths, unobtrusively, as she feared nausea would follow soon.
He paused a moment as he applied pressure to the artery, while Isabelle switched out the rags again. Then, a thought came to him. He'd never applied it in practice, but had heard about it from some other physicians who had success with it. He remembered his colleague, Leofwin Rainecourt, mentioning this to him a few months ago when Thomas visited his manor near Nettlestone.
"There is one thing that I can use to mend the artery." Thomas hinted.
"What is it?" Isabelle asked.
"Hair."
"What?" the four others present exclaimed, incredulously.
"Yes. It has to be long." Thomas said.
"My hair is up, but I can get Robert to take it down and pull some strands while I continue my work." Isabelle offered.
"You can have some of mine, as well." Mortianna said.
"No. Mortianna, your hair would not be strong enough. And, both yours and Lady Isabelle's would be very difficult to see." Thomas said.
"Lady Meridwyn is outside the door of the chambers. I'm sure she'd be more than willing to help." Robert suggested.
"Hers would be easy to see, but it's too curly." Thomas said.
"There's only one I can think of with hair that would work, Master Crumwell." Isabelle said. She focused on her task, applying pressure, and closing her eyes briefly. The idea of hair and blood mixed together was unsettling to her. She prayed she wouldn't retch.
"Indeed. I need Lady Rhiannon to come back in."
Robert looked through the doorway as he stood and held the torch.
"I don't see her in the den, Thomas. I'll go get her." He looked to Mortianna. "Would you hold this torch for me until I return with my sister? I'm sure she's just outside speaking with Lady Meridwyn."
"Of course." Mortianna nodded as she took it from him.
"Don't tarry, Robert. I need your sister's hair. Now." Thomas said, urgently.
Rhiannon was surprised when Robert came out of the chambers. She arose from the bench and walked toward him.
"Is it finished?" she asked.
He shook his head.
"Thomas needs you, Rhiannon." Robert said.
"To hold the torch?"
"No. Come. He needs you straightway." Robert said.
She was bewildered but followed him inside. They walked into the private chambers, and Robert took the torch from Mortianna, resuming his position.
"What is it, Thomas?" Rhiannon asked.
"I need about three strands of your hair, pulled from the root." Thomas said simply.
"What?" she asked, incredulously.
He quickly explained what the hair would be used for and why it was the best choice of suture material.
"You're sure this would work?" she asked as she pulled the ribbon from her hair that tied it into a ponytail.
"Yes. Some of my colleagues have spoken about using it in similar instances. It's been known to be successful." Thomas said.
"Very well. Let us hope you're right." Rhiannon said.
"Once you pull them, hand them to Mortianna. I shall take then from her and thread my needle." Thomas instructed.
Rhiannon followed his directive and gave her hair strands to Mortianna.
"How much longer, Thomas? George hasn't stirred in quite awhile." Rhiannon said.
"Yes, and I'm glad he hasn't, frankly. This is the last of it, Lady Rhiannon. I repaired a nick to the small bowel — "
"The which, Thomas?"
"Some might call it entrails." Thomas said.
"I see." she said, feeling slightly queasy again.
"With your hair I shall suture the blood vessel back together so that blood will flow through it, but not flow out of it into his abdominal cavity and out through his wound." Thomas explained, then added, "It shall maintain his circulation without compromising it." he said while he threaded the needle using light from the torch that Robert held to guide him.
"Then, the bleeding will stop?" Rhiannon asked.
"Yes, That is the goal. Once that's achieved, I close him, and then we shall discuss a treatment plan that will mitigate the festering of his wound." he said as he walked back to the bedside holding the needle threaded with a strand of Rhiannon's hair.
"Very well."
"Normally, I'd advise you to sit with him, talk to him, but, he might respond to your voice and awaken. It's better if he stays as he is for this part."
"Of course. I'd rather he is not aware of what you're doing." Rhiannon said.
Thomas nodded, then looked to Isabelle and Robert.
"Okay, Isabelle, one more mop up in here. I'm going in. Robert, keep that torch held just above where I'm working." Thomas instructed them.
Rhiannon stood a moment and looked upon the face of her betrothed. He was as white as snow and his breathing was shallow. He almost appeared as though he were… dead. It frightened her to see him in such a state. She felt a tear coming, and angrily wiped it away. Then she left the room and exited back out of the private chambers.
After she closed the door she leaned against it, staring at nothing, while she attempted to process all that was happening. She took slow deep breaths to ease her frazzled nerves.
Sir Guy and Lady Meridwyn came to her straightway.
"Are you alright, Lady Rhiannon?" Guy asked, placing his comforting hand, gently upon her left shoulder.
"He's in an awful state." Rhiannon whispered.
"What did Thomas need, Rhi? To talk to you about his condition?" Meridwyn asked.
"He needed my hair. I gave him three strands." Rhiannon said, matter of factly.
"What?" they asked in unison.
She quickly explained what was told to her by Thomas, why her hair strands were needed.
Guy put his head down, and held his fist to his mouth.
"I need to learn to… stop asking questions in times like these." Guy whispered.
"You best sit back upon that bench, Guy." Meridwyn advised.
"No. I need air. I'm going to the balcony before I embarrass myself further. Some chill air will do me good." Guy said.
"Very well. I'll let you know when it's done." Meridwyn said.
He nodded to both of them and quickly took his leave.
"Meridwyn, it's like I've had a glimpse of… George's death!" Rhiannon exclaimed in a whisper as a tear streamed down her cheek.
"Oh, honey!" Meridwyn said as she embraced her friend. "Do not think of such a thing, dearest. I know it's frightening, but Thomas knows what he's doing." she soothed.
"Meridwyn, I'm frightened!" Rhiannon said.
"Come, dearest. Come and sit with me. You're tired, and injured yourself." Meridwyn soothed as she guided her to the bench.
The ladies seated themselves. Meridwyn placed an arm around her, and Rhiannon leaned into her.
"But, not like he is. He literally looks like death, Meridwyn."
"As you did on the night of my wedding. Yes, I heard all about it. We all thought we'd lose you. But, you held on, thanks to Thomas, and Lady Margaret. He is working his magick again."
"Don't let Thomas hear you say that. He would say it is not magick, but science. The healing arts or something similar."
"Whatever it is, we are fortunate to have him available to us all and living close by." Meridwyn said.
"This appears insurmountable. Even for Thomas." she whispered.
"When you were wounded with a dagger, at one point your betrothed was being prepared for the worst possible outcome. You came back from it, Rhiannon. So will he." Meridwyn said, firmly.
"I dearly hope you're right. Does… anyone know who did this to George?" Rhiannon asked.
"I imagine the three men who were with him know. Guy said that Luke told him of the incident, after Guy was summoned. I don't know how much detail Guy knows." Meridwyn shrugged.
"If I lose him, whomever did this to him is going to pay." Rhiannon said, evenly.
"Of course, dearest. Let's not think — "
"He saw our daughter." Rhiannon blurted.
"Who did?"
"George. When I was finally able to rouse him a bit, he was whispering to someone named Sela, asking her to come back to him. That was what I got out of him while waiting on Thomas."
"You can't be serious?"
"I asked who Sela was. He whispered, "Our daughter"." Rhiannon said, her eyebrow raised, knowingly.
"Well then, he must get well. He needs to tell you about this… dream of her or whatever it was. Obviously she wasn't just a baby in the dream. How would he know her name? Unless… you discussed it?"
"We talked about naming her, but hadn't come up with one as yet. But, that's not even the strange part, Meridwyn. Thomas and Luke walked into the bedchamber just as I asked who she was and he gave his answer. Thomas must have heard, because he mentioned that Sela was George's aunt. His father's sister, who died shortly before his father, and that both of his parents were close to her."
"Oh my. Maybe it was a vision, or a fever dream, or something?" Meridwyn suggested.
"George acted like he'd never heard of her. And, how would he have? To him, his parents are like characters in a book." she sighed as she wiped tears from her cheeks, still resting her head against Meridwyn's shoulder. "I believe he really did… meet our daughter… somehow."
"I hope he can remember, so he can tell you about it."
"I do, too. But, all I want right now is for him to survive. I've built my life around him, Meridwyn. Nothing makes any sense… without him." Rhiannon whispered.
"Shh. Do not think on that, dearest." Meridwyn soothed as she held her close.
"There. Almost done. I'm placing the last stitch on the skin." Thomas said. "How's your ankle, by the way, Lady Isabelle?"
"It's a little tender, but holding me up. Not as painful as when you last saw me."
"You've been a true soldier through all of this. I want you to elevate that leg soon after this is done. Alright?"
"Very well. You're satisfied, with the procedure?" Isabelle asked.
"Yes." Thomas said as he knotted the last silk stitch and cut the end off. "I never would've closed him if I wasn't." he looked to her husband. "You can put the torch back now, Robert."
Robert nodded and took the torch away.
"Isabelle? That was fine work. I couldn't have managed this without you. Well done." Thomas smiled.
"Thank you, Master Crumwell." Isabelle nodded.
"Shall I bring Lady Rhiannon back in the room, Thomas? I'm going to have the servants take away the bloodied rags, anyway." Luke asked.
"Yes. That would be helpful." Thomas said. Then he looked to Isabelle. "I'm going to clean the wound once more, and next we're going to dress it. I shall need your help with the dressing."
"Very well." Isabelle nodded.
Within moments, Luke stepped outside of the chambers. He noticed Ladies Rhiannon and Meridwyn seated on the bench nearby and walked toward them.
"Lady Rhiannon?" he asked, softly.
Rhiannon looked up at him.
"It is done." Luke said, simply.
"Is he… alive?"
"Yes, Milady, but he has not yet wakened. Come. I shall escort you inside."
Rhiannon stood and took Luke's arm, nervous to enter back into the chambers.
"Is there anything I can do to help?" Meridwyn asked.
"I need for the servants to return to take the bloodied rags away that were used during the procedure." Luke said.
"I shall summon for them to come." Meridwyn nodded.
"Thank you." he nodded, then he opened the door and escorted Lady Rhiannon back inside.
She couldn't feel anything. Not the discomfort in her ribs, nor the ache in her belly where her daughter was recently housed, and not even her feet touching the floor as she walked with Luke across the den and back into the bedchamber. All she could feel was fear… of losing him.
"It is finished, and it was successful, Lady Rhiannon. Isabelle and I just dressed the wound, which has finally been properly tended to." Thomas said.
"Yes. I see that. He still looks quite poorly, though." Rhiannon frowned as she took in a deep breath.
Luke guided her closer toward the bed, then he exited the bedchamber.
Robert and Isabelle observed her, then regarded one another with knowing looks of concern.
"That's to be expected. He lost quite a bit of blood. That damn wound was festering, too. We'll discuss how we're going to deal with that matter shortly, but first, it's time he is awakened. I thought I'd leave that to you." Thomas said.
"Of course." she said.
Rhiannon walked closer to the bed and seated herself beside him. She began to caress his cheek. He looked like nothing while laying there so still, unanimated. She couldn't wait to hear his voice and look into his eyes.
"It is done, my love. You must wake up now." Rhiannon whispered into his ear.
He began to moan, softly.
"George? It is I. Your lady. Wake up, sugar." she whispered.
There was no response.
"What would you have me do now, Thomas? Should I shake him?" Rhiannon asked.
"Yes. Try that. I need to know that his faculties aren't compromised."
She nodded and turned back toward her betrothed.
"My love, you must wake up!" she said softly, as she began to gently shake him.
This time, he fluttered his lashes then slowly opened his eyes. He looked into her eyes, then looked around the room with a bewildered expression upon his face.
"George? Can you speak?" Rhiannon asked.
"My lady." he whispered, softly.
"Yes, my love. I am here." she smiled as she bent down to kiss his forehead.
"What… in the devil… is happening?" the Sheriff whispered.
"Do you know where you are, Milord?" Thomas asked.
"I'm in… my bedchamber. But… why are you, and everyone else… here?" he whispered.
"Do you recall your hunting injury?" Thomas pressed.
"Yes. There was fog. He shot me… just before… it lifted." he struggled to keep his eyes open as he spoke. "He… didn't mean to." he added in a whisper.
"I had to repair things inside of you, Milord. You were bleeding heavily. You are also full of contagion inside. Your wound was festering. We handled some of that, but you shall need to follow my instructions to the letter, or you won't be well in time for your wedding." Thomas said.
"I will. The wedding… shall proceed… as planned." the Sheriff nodded.
"It will if you heed my instructions." Thomas said.
"Whatever… " the Sheriff whispered as he closed his eyes.
Thomas sighed and slowly shook his head.
"George!" Rhiannon exclaimed.
"It's alright, Lady Rhiannon. We managed to rouse him and that's a good thing. It's normal for him to feel quite tired now. The loss of blood alone will do that. He may rest, but shortly, we shall have to rouse him again to take some wine infused with cloves to heal his blood." Thomas advised.
Mortianna excused herself from the chambers, saying she'd return directly.
"Is that it, then? The instructions?" Rhiannon asked.
"No. That is only the beginning. We have to pull that purulence from him."
"Bloodletting?" Isabelle asked.
"Yes, but not done in the traditional sense. He's lost far too much blood already. He will need to be observed closely the next little while."
"What other means of achieving bloodletting are there, Master Crumwell?" Isabelle asked.
"Leeches." Thomas said, matter of factly.
"What? You must be jesting! Not leeches. What on earth would you do with leeches to my George?" Rhiannon exclaimed.
"They would be used to extract the contagion from his blood, Lady Rhiannon. They suck blood. But, it's a much more controlled means of achieving bloodletting. We get rid of the poison in his body, without fear of him bleeding out any further." he explained.
Rhiannon shook her head and sighed.
"Are you certain of this? It seems… extreme."
"Not as extreme as traditional bloodletting. He needs that poison out of him, or we shall be right back to square one. It's the safest means of achieving this for him right now."
"Fine. If you think it's best. How many of those would you need to place on him?"
"No more than three, or four."
"Very well." Rhiannon sighed. "I guess we'll wait for those to show up."
"No waiting needed. I have some in my bag." Thomas said as he walked over to it.
"What? You just happen to have leeches… in your bag?" she asked, incredulously.
"I put them in my bag whenever I'm called upon, Milady. I never know when they'll be needed."
"Of course, you do." Rhiannon exhaled sharply. She looked to her brother and sister in law. "Thank you both for your assistance. We're good here now, I think. You should both rest. Especially you, Isabelle. You're looking a little pale."
"I'm fine, dearest. Perhaps just a wee bit tired." Isabelle said.
"I agree. You need to elevate that leg, Isabelle." Thomas said as he brought the jar of leeches over to the bedside.
"If you're sure, Rhiannon." Robert said.
"I'm sure." she smiled.
"Very well. Send word at once if you need anything." he said as he kissed her cheek. Then he guided his wife out of the room.
Shortly after that, Mortianna returned carrying a flask.
"I have the wine and cloves mixture here, Thomas." Mortianna said.
"Ah! Splendid!" Thomas smiled.
He had just finished placing the leeches on the Sheriff's skin. They were scattered on his lower abdomen, just above the bandage.
"Lady Rhiannon, try and wake him again. Then we're going to lift him off the pillows a bit while Mortianna holds the flask to his lips." Thomas directed.
Rhiannon nodded and turned towards her betrothed.
"Wake up, my love. You must wake up and drink now." she said as she gently shook him.
"My lady. What… is it? Let… me sleep." he whispered with his eyes still closed.
"You may sleep after you drink. Wake up, George. It's important!" Rhiannon urged him.
"For the… love of… Zeus!" he whispered in annoyance of having his peaceful sleep interrupted.
He wanted to see Sela again. Why couldn't they just leave him be?
"I know you're very tired, my love, but you must drink this for us. It will help you heal. Please, George!" she implored him.
"Then… can I sleep?" he asked.
"Yes. But, every time you're wakened to drink the infused wine, you must take it, Milord. It's imperative. These are my instructions. You must heed them." Thomas said, firmly.
"Alright. Whatever… " he whispered.
Thomas and Lady Rhiannon lifted his head slightly off the pillows, as Mortianna held the flask to his lips.
"Drink, George." Rhiannon said.
He obeyed, and swallowed a measure of the infused wine.
"Is that… it, then? Can I… sleep now?" the Sheriff whispered, softly.
"Yes, Milord. That will do." Thomas said.
Together, the medicus and Lady Rhiannon eased him back against the pillows.
The Sheriff returned to his sleep rather quickly. Rhiannon was visibly alarmed by that.
"Remember what I said. It's normal for him to be very tired after what just happened, Milady. Keep that flask of wine nearby. I want him to have a good measure of that every two to three hours." Thomas said.
"I will, Thomas. I will see that he takes it as instructed. How long do those leeches need to stay on him?" Rhiannon asked, nervously. She hoped he'd tell her no more than an hour.
"I'll change them out in about an hour, or so." Thomas said. "That's when new ones will be applied."
"Oh. Very well." she sighed.
"You must rest now. You need it, too. I shall be just outside in the den for a time." Thomas said.
"I will try, but… those leeches aren't going to move, are they?" Rhiannon asked, as she grimaced, and shuddered all at once.
"No. They will need to be coaxed off of his skin."
"Oh my! Well, can we cover him… where the leeches are? I want to stay close to him while I rest, but if I open my eyes and see them, I'm afraid I'll scare him with my reaction."
"That's fine. We can cover them with a towel." Thomas said.
Mortianna nodded and went over to the table with the mirror to retrieve a towel. She brought it to Thomas who placed it on the Sheriff's lower abdomen. Next he covered that with the clean sheet, then the blanket.
"Thomas? Is he… going to be well? When will we know he will be through the… worst of this?" Rhiannon asked, fearful of the answer.
"The next twenty four hours are crucial. He's lost a good deal of blood, but he is mended now and I'm cautiously hopeful that he'll heal from that. Now, we're taking steps to mitigate the contagion that's circulating within him, and aid his healing. You must be diligent with my instructions. Talk to him as much as possible to hopefully prevent him falling into a deep slumber he cannot come back from. That is the fear now." Thomas said, solemnly.
Rhiannon swallowed and bit her lip to stop the tear she felt forming in her eye, and betraying her resolve.
"I will follow your recommendations to the letter." she said.
"I will be checking in frequently, Lady Rhiannon. I'm extending my stay. Together, we shall see him through this. At the same time, you mustn't forget your own needs. You've endured much in the last two days. Remember: you cannot pour from your cup, if your own cup hasn't been kept abundantly full. In order to care for someone, you must first take care of yourself." he advised.
"Very well. I shall heed your wise instruction." she nodded.
A little while later, all was quiet in the bedchamber again. Lady Rhiannon was back in bed beside her betrothed, but she couldn't sleep. He still looked quite pale, and he was fast asleep.
She sat and stared upon him, willing him to rise up, full of energy and speaking to her in his normal commanding voice. She thought about how she felt when she first laid eyes upon him; the way he made her feel later in the gardens when he took her hand and kissed it; his amber hazel eyes piercing into hers. She saw an energy there, a fire. Like his soul was burning for hers. The way he affected her never left her, except for a short time when her brother and sister in law were brought to the castle as his prisoners. And then, that was resolved and they were back to where they were, as strong as ever; this time with family on both sides near to them, supporting them.
"Damn it, George. You must hold on, my love. We've been through so much in a short time, really. You have changed my life. What was the point of all of this if this is our end? Your end?" she whispered into his ear.
"You must come back to me, my sweet prince. Life is bleeding nothing without you! How I wish you would hear me. I'm frozen beside you. I'm fighting hard, and you must now fight, too. Please be well, my dearest heart. I've loved you since before we even met, don't you understand?" she pleaded tearfully, in a futile attempt to get through to him.
Then she had the most disturbing thought, a memory that came to her. She thought she understood it at the time, but she didn't, really. Now, she fully understood the horror of it.
She was recalling the first time she met Madam Oberon in mid August. She and Meridwyn saw the black satin gown, with the delicate beading, the trumpet sleeves, and the matching black veil, hanging on the wall in Madam Oberon's manor. It chilled her to look upon it. And then, a short time after Madam Oberon hastily covered it, she arrived, looking bereft and defeated.
At the time, Rhiannon thought she could understand how Brigid must have felt. Just imagining it gave Rhiannon a shiver at the time. But, she didn't know. How could she?
And now, she could hear Brigid's angry words, see the tears streaming down her face as she shrieked: "Alas! The Sheriff has made me a widow, before I can even grant my lover one night in the marriage bed!"
Rhiannon swallowed dryly, choking back a tear and deliberately slowing the rate of her breathing.
The memory was so vivid in clarity it was like she was right back there, to that one day in time. She remembered that later that same evening when he found her seated on the scaffold, she told him what she thought she understood at the time:
"Because if that were you hanging there like a rag doll, I'd want to wear my morbid black wedding gown… every day of my wretched, miserable life after that!"
"I know now. She wasn't mad at all. She was right. If something should… happen, I will wear a black gown every day. And, my life will be wretched and miserable, because this life that we've created is nothing. It is nothing at all without you, George.
"You must hear me. You must believe it, too. I don't care about a child in my future. As you said, what good is it creating a child with someone you can't stand for five seconds? If there's no you, I shall soon follow you, because my heart will be broken beyond all repair. There's no use without you! My sweet, you must hear me. I need you to come back to me." she whispered as she kissed his cheek.
She laid back against the pillows and closed her eyes. Perhaps if she rested them a bit she could make another attempt with talking to him, and trying to awaken him? She managed to doze off into a light sleep where dreams were just beginning to form, then she jolted awake with the cold reality that her betrothed was not well and needed her.
Rhiannon reached beside her to the bedside table. The flask of wine infused with cloves was there. It had to be at least two hours by now since he last took some. She grabbed it with her left hand then turned to her left to face him.
"You need to awaken whether you want to, or not. Just for a moment." she said.
She attempted to lift his head off the pillows. His eyelids began to flutter.
"It is time, George. You must drink a good measure of this, and then you can sleep, my sweet." Rhiannon said.
"Let me… sleep." he whispered.
"Of course. In a moment, after you've taken a measure of this wine mixture."
"What's… it for?" he asked softly, as he attempted to open his eyes.
"To heal your blood. You lost… a lot of it."
He nodded to her, signalling for her to give him the wine. She held it to his lips, carefully using her right hand as her left was holding him up, and he took a few good swallows.
"Tastes… as bad as the Prince's… favourites." he muttered with a grimace.
"It shall help you heal, my sweet." Rhiannon said as she guided his head back to the pillows.
The Sheriff's eyes closed once more as he began to relax again, while Rhiannon was placing the flask back on the table.
"Sleep… my lady." he whispered.
"Yes, you may sleep now." she said as she turned back to look upon him.
"No. You… sleep."
"I shall try. Yes." she whispered.
She laid on her left side, facing him, and reached out with her leftt hand and gently held his hand. He was already asleep, but she took some comfort in the fact that he'd just spoken to her and made sense when he did. It had to be a good sign — wasn't it?
