The following morning, Lady Rhiannon was asleep on the bed in Marie's room, with her blanket pulled up to her chin. The room was still dark, owing to the dreary weather. The sky was grey and rain fell softly outside of the window. That didn't curtail the excitement of the rest of the ladies present in the chambers.
"Rhiannon! Wake up, honey. It's your wedding day!" Meridwyn called to her as she gently shook her.
"Guys… leave me… alone. Father is… calling for… you." Rhiannon murmured in her sleep.
"Isn't that quaint? She's dreaming of a time long past when she and Robert were young, and their father and brother still lived." Isabelle smiled as she clasped her hands together.
"Yes, it's sweet, Isabelle. But, there's no time for the extravagance of lounging today." Meridwyn said.
"Of course."
"Rhiannon!" Meridwyn called again in a louder volume than before.
Rhiannon opened her eyes and looked up at her sisters in law. Both ladies stood at her bedside looking down upon her, smiling. They were wrapped once again in their dressing gowns, and their hair was still rolled upon their heads.
"What time of day is it?" she asked as she sat up and yawned.
"It's morning, dearest." Isabelle said.
"Oh, good. There's still time." Rhiannon said.
"Not really, Rhi." Meridwyn pointed out.
"The ceremony isn't until afternoon. I was adamant about that, Meridwyn. As it is, the celebrations are going to be drawn out forever. Why make it worse?"
"I swear you're the only lady in the shire who acts like they're dreading their own wedding, except for those arranged marriage types. Honestly, Rhi! You sure you still want to do this?" Meridwyn asked, curiously.
"Of course, I do. George isn't the problem. It's the long drawn out affair of it that bothers me. If it were up to me, it would just be immediate family." a beat. "Can't you let me sleep a bit longer?" Rhiannon pouted.
"Not from what Madam Oberon is saying. She says she's going to be brushing our hair for quite awhile to get it right. I don't know what she means by "quite awhile", but it sounds quite tedious." Meridwyn explained, hooking the first two fingers of each of her hands in the air around the mention of the time needed.
"Indeed." Isabelle sighed.
"And, don't forget: Galfrey will be stopping by to deliver the flowers that are needed for your hair, too." Meridwyn added.
"Alright." Rhiannon sighed.
Just then, Madam Oberon appeared at the doorway.
"Bonjour, mes chers! Jean Louis sent up some lovely foods to break your fast. I've water heating for tea." Madam Oberon smiled.
"Merci, Madame." Rhiannon smiled.
"Come, ladies. You shall have some tea, and some food, and then we shall get started."
"Already? The ceremony is hours away, Madame. Why must we rush?" Rhiannon asked.
"Beauty takes time, Mademoiselle Rhiannon." she smiled. Then she beckoned for the ladies to follow her out into the salon.
"It's a shame it's raining today." Isabelle remarked as they started toward the door.
"Not really. First of all, it's November. It rains quite a bit this time of year. And secondly, the day I met him was a day just like this, so, to me, it's quite fitting." Rhiannon smiled.
The Sheriff was meeting with his top men in the Council Quarters. The servants brought trays of food into the room, and poured water from the pitcher into goblets for the men.
"No soft ale to start the day, Cousin?" Guy asked.
"No. Not for any of us." he said as he took a seat at the head of the table. The rest of the men followed his lead.
"Well, this cant be good that we're having a meeting on your wedding day, Milord." Duke Farnsworth commented with a frown.
"No kidding." Robert remarked.
"It really doesn't matter what day it is, Duke. I'm still in charge of the county no matter what day it is." the Sheriff said, simply.
The men began to load their plates with pastries, slices of ham, fruit and cheese. Guy noticed his cousin didn't take any food.
"You should eat, Cousin." Guy suggested.
"Gis, there's going to be plenty of food served later. The last thing I need is to slow myself down with more of it." he said as he sipped of the water in his goblet. Then he looked to Luke. "How's things this morning with you, Luke? You feeling up to this today?"
"Yes, Milord. I am feeling more like myself now. I'm here to serve." Luke nodded.
"Good." he said.
"Is someone going to tell us what happened with Drake last night?" Mordrid asked.
"Yes. We'll get to that." Nottingham nodded.
"That was surely odd." Ancel added.
"Indeed. Men, we have a couple of potential problems to be vigilant about this day. First, we have the townspeople involved in the group that are endeavouring to form a rebellion. They belong to a group who call themselves the Christian Brotherhood — "
"Ha! That's rich!" Mordrid scoffed.
"Mordrid!" Duke Farnsworth admonished.
"Come on, Duke. You must admit it's a lame name for it. The most unoriginal name you could think of." Mordrid shrugged.
"That may be, but let him finish." the Captain said.
"I've no doubt some of those men will try to cause trouble today. We're stepping up the numbers of guards at the portcullis, the entrances to the castle, the cathedral, and in the Grand Hall. The next problem involves a delusional former consort who is currently the ward of Lady Gunilda." he said. He looked to Luke. "You're familiar with Lady Gunilda, Luke. She's the same woman you and Drake spoke with at the tavern on Friday afternoon. She… previously told us her name was Gisela." the Sheriff said with a knowing glance.
"Yes, Milord. I know whom you mean." Luke nodded with a knowing glance.
"The one who can… smell things more… acutely than others?" Ancel asked.
"Yes. That one."
"Are those ladies expected to arrive today, Milord?" Mordrid asked.
"No, but, the consort has a twisted plan. Lady Gunilda came to bade me warning last night. That's where Drake is. He is protecting her." the Sheriff announced.
"Are you going to explain whatever this "twisted plan" is that the consort has in mind, Milord?" Robert asked, hooking the first two fingers of both hands in the air at the mention of the Sheriff's description.
Nottingham sighed and took a sip of water.
"Oh, boy… " Gisborne muttered.
"Do not lead with emotion, Robert." Nottingham said, softly.
"Well, that says it all, doesn't it? It has to do with Rhiannon." Robert surmised, shaking his head.
"Indeed." he sighed.
"Why does a former consort wish to eliminate my sister? That's what this is about, isn't it? How would their paths ever possibly cross?" Robert asked suspiciously, speaking quickly.
"The Mistress has some delusional fantasies." he said.
"About what? Besides dark fantasies involving murder?" Robert fired back.
"She is obsessed with… my cousin, Robert." Guy added.
"What? How — "
"Thanks for that, Gis." the Sheriff muttered, facetiously.
"Did you… see this consort when she was actively employed as such?" Robert asked.
"No." the Sheriff lied. He could never explain to him how Celestria entered into it. Only Guy knew everything, and that's how it would stay.
"Then, why is she… fantasizing about you? To the point she plans to kill my sister? Why has she not been brought to the dungeon?" Robert demanded, his voice raised a decibel or two.
"Logic must supersede emotion, Robert. Keep that in mind." he said.
"I need a reasonable explanation to coax out my logical side." Robert said, with a quirk of his brow.
"The woman is not quite mentally sound, Robert. Therefore, she has a very flimsy plan. All measures are being taken to stop the woman in her tracks should she get the idea to try to sneak in past the portcullis; and to protect Rhiannon." the Sheriff explained.
"You sure you didn't overindulge last night, Milord?" Robert quipped.
The Sheriff's three top men shifted in their seats in discomfiture, and regarded each other with knowing looks, trying to be unobtrusive about it.
"Robert!" Nottingham sighed.
"Has everyone been drinking crazy potion around here? Why am I the only one asking the questions and demanding answers? This is a big deal, is it not?" Robert asked incredulously, as he looked around the table.
"Of course it is, Robert." Duke Farnsworth said in an attempt to assuage him.
Nottingham sighed, and put his palm to his forehead as he slowly shook his head. He wanted to explain it to him, but how could he possibly explain that Rhiannon wanted to kill the consort, and that she would need time to heal first before he would permit her to carry out her plan, with him backing her up? He could never share this with Robert! Curses!
"She will be safe — " he was interrupted.
"What in the devil sort of codswallop is this, Notty? This is ridiculously unacceptable and you know it!" Robert shouted as he stood from his chair, and banged his fist on the table to punctuate his statement.
"Curses!" Gisborne muttered under his breath.
The top men were surprised by Robert's angry outburst, but looked to their laps to conceal their grins at the moniker he gave to the Sheriff.
"God damn it!" the Sheriff huffed in frustration.
"Are you going to tell me what in the devil is going on here? This is madness! My God, Notty! Do you want her dead?" Robert exclaimed.
"Robert!" he admonished.
"Don't you "Robert" me! I am her brother in case you've forgotten. There has got to be more to it than what your saying. Talk about flimsy! Your entire explanation is flimsy! A consort doesn't just suddenly, out of nowhere, develop an obsession for a man without knowing him to some degree — "
The Sheriff stood from his seat.
"Step outside, Robert." he ordered him.
"What?"
"Step. Outside!" the Sheriff exclaimed.
Robert huffed but obeyed him, notwithstanding.
The Sheriff looked to his Lieutenant.
"You'll need to take over for a bit, Gis. I need to have a chat with my soon to be brother in law." he sighed.
"Of course, Cousin." Guy nodded.
The Sheriff left the meeting chamber. He was going to need to offer a little more information to Robert than he was prepared to speak about freely in front of the others. He didn't even wish to explain this to Robert, but Robert was making a show of himself. Now, he was forced to reveal more than he wanted to.
"Come, Robert. Let's head to my office." the Sheriff said.
"Why? What is it you need to tell me that you can't say right here?" Robert asked.
"You will know soon enough. Come."
"Uhh… are they going to be… okay?" Mordrid asked Gisborne as he nodded to the door.
"I'm sure they will be." Guy sighed.
"You don't think… they're going to start beating each other, do you, Sir Guy?" Luke asked.
"I don't — "
"He did have a point, Sir Guy. Why aren't we going to the witchy lady's cottage right now to arrest the deranged woman for conspiracy to commit murder? Just knowing about this plan, no matter how poorly conceived — doesn't it make us complicit? And, render Lady Rhiannon a sitting duck?" Ancel asked.
"He does raise a fair point, Sir Guy." Duke Farnsworth said.
"All I can say about it is the Sheriff has considered all of the angles, and this is how he wishes to proceed." Guy said.
"We'll take your word for it, Sir Guy. Perhaps you can tell us how you think he would wish us to handle this." Duke Farnsworth said.
"We need men everywhere. Especially if the Christian Brotherhood morons show." Guy began.
The door was closed at the Sheriff's office, and the two men prepared to hash out their disagreement.
"Okay. We're finally here, away from everyone else. I need you to explain this to me, adding in the parts you left out." Robert said.
"The consort will be handled, Robert." Nottingham sighed.
"Really? When? Next year?" Robert asked, facetiously.
"No." the Sheriff said, simply.
"Why are you dancing around my questions? Isn't that why we're here? So that you can tell me what you didn't want others to know?" Robert asked.
"Guy knows." he muttered, evasively.
"Knows what? Why didn't you deal with the matter when Lady Gunilda came to you?"
"It's being handled, Robert."
"Is it, now? From where I'm standing, it's being swept under the rug. You're treating this matter as if it's low priority. The Sheriff I know would have rode to that cottage last night and been done with the matter in seconds." Robert argued.
"Sit, Robert." he said, indicating the chair at the desk.
Robert sighed and took a seat, as the Sheriff walked over to his chair behind the desk and seated himself.
"Things are different." the Sheriff began.
"What? What kind of explanation is that?"
"Do you remember when you first arrived to the castle?"
"Ha! How could I forget that? I was your prisoner."
"Yes. And, it was clear to me that Rhiannon knew you well, but no matter how many times I asked, how many times I demanded the truth, she wouldn't say a word about your true relationship to her."
"Why are we waxing nostalgic on that chapter in our lives? The hell does that have to do with anything regarding a deranged consort who wants my sister dead?" Robert demanded.
"Sit tight, Robert. You shall have your answer soon."
"Sure." Robert scoffed.
"Even when I asked her if you were a past, or current lover, she wouldn't deny it. She stayed loyal to you throughout all of my questioning; so, it was plainly clear to me that she loved you. I just didn't understand why." the Sheriff said, quietly.
"I still don't understand where you're taking me with this long drawn out stor — "
"So, we had a bit of a falling out over it. Our first and only one, actually. She moved back to her manor. You may recall, she was there the day your… execution was stayed. Later, I told you I needed to go to her to bring her back. Anyway, I met with her a few times, still questioning who you were to her. She wouldn't say a word." he sighed.
"Okay?" Robert shrugged.
"And, during that time apart, your sister went to the brothel."
"She… WHAT?"
"To meet with the Madam there about hiring a consort to send to me to — "
"Test your devotion to her. Oh, Rhiannon… " Robert muttered, shaking his head with a sigh.
"The consort appeared at the door of my private chambers. Told me she was sent by the Black Knights to cheer me from the state I was in. Remember I visited you in your cell and accused you of sending me a gift?" the Sheriff reminded him.
"Yes. And, I didn't know what the hell you were talking about. Was that the gift you were referring to?"
"Yes. I didn't know the truth then, and I eventually figured out who sent the whore."
"And, dare I ask? What happened… between you and the consort?" Robert asked.
"Nothing. I was angry, so I invited her in. We had a drink, then I sent her away. I knew there was no way my men would have sent her. I was certain you arranged it somehow, because I was convinced you were either a former lover, or a current one — because neither you, nor Rhiannon were telling the truth."
"And… let me guess: the deranged consort with the flimsy murder plot is the same one my sister hired to visit you?"
"Yes."
"Curses! I swear her impulsiveness is going to get her killed one of these days!" Robert exclaimed.
"The consort also tried to poison me. She's had plans in motion from day one." the Sheriff said.
"Alright, none of this explains why you're sitting on your hands right now instead of going after — "
"Here's the part where you need to take a few breaths to calm yourself, Robert." the Sheriff frowned.
"What?"
"Last night when Lady Gunilda came to see me, we went to Madam Oberon's chambers to share this with Rhiannon."
"Why?"
"Because yesterday morning, when I met with Gunilda about another matter, Rhiannon showed up. And, after confirming with Gunilda that the consort is at Gunilda's cottage, Rhiannon expressed to both of us, quite adamantly and vociferously — that she wants to kill the consort herself." he announced.
"Wh… WHAT? You dissuaded her from that foolish notion, I dearly hope?"
"She is adamant, Robert. That whore has caused nothing but problems for the both of us. The day after she showed up here, she went back to my lady and lied through her teeth about what went on with our brief meeting. She invented quite a fantastical story, complete with made up graphic details. Our engagement was nearly called off because of this mendacious whore. Rhiannon finally learned the truth — from Madam Birghiva, the Madam of the brothel." the Sheriff said.
"I had… no idea." Robert said, shaking his head. "But, why must she insist on handling this herself? Surely you're not going to permit — "
"I would never put Rhiannon in danger. Know this, Robert: I would die to protect her. If it were up to me, I would have handled this swiftly. She is insistent on this, and I will not let her go alone. I will have her back. She will not be in danger. She wants this moment, and I will let her have her win."
"So, why didn't you two deal with this last night?"
"Because my lady is still healing from her injuries, Robert. She doesn't talk about it freely, but she still needs that opium from time to time to manage her pain. Listen. That whore nearly caused the dissolution of our engagement — our entire romance, actually. She was the one who pushed Rhiannon down the stairs last week. She injured her, and contributed to the death of our daughter. We both want that cursed bitch dead; but… it cannot be today. Not by Rhiannon's hand." the Sheriff said.
"But… Perhaps by the hand of another?" Robert asked.
"That depends on how things play out today with Drake guarding Lady Gunilda. If the whore makes any attempt to sneak out of there to make her way over here, Drake will arrest her, detain her, and we go from there." he explained.
"I see." Robert said, softly. He put his palm to his forehead and exhaled a sigh. Then, he arose from his chair and began to pace.
"I know this is probably quite alarming to you… "
Robert stopped in his tracks and turned to face him.
"Oh, it is. I'm not sure which part is more alarming, though. The part where my sister went on her own to a brothel to hire a consort to… service you?" Robert shuddered. "The fact that I basically created this entire mess by demanding she not tell you that I am her brother?" he looked up into the Sheriff's eyes, and shook his head, slowly. "I was convinced if you knew the truth, she would come to harm. I was basing my assumption on your actions from when Hood was your most wanted outlaw."
"I know." Nottingham sighed.
"But, the other part that has me the most alarmed, is Rhiannon expressing a desire to murder. My sister… a killer! How the hell am I supposed to reconcile with that?" Robert asked, shaking his head.
"My guess is you would need to consider her motivations, and the life experiences she accrued that led her up to this point." the Sheriff said.
"It's like she's another person altogether! She is nothing at all like the sister I left behind when I left for war. Edward would die all over again if he could see her now." Robert said, softly.
"Many things happened to bring her to this point, Robert."
"George? I don't want my sister to have blood on her hands. It will sit with her all the rest of her days. She doesn't realize the impact this will have on her. It will forever change her." a beat. "What if her motivation is to try to impress… you?" Robert said, folding his arms.
"I understand her motives, Robert. And, that is not one of them."
"If you, or your men could take care of this matter without her being involved in it, I'd be forever grateful. I don't care what story you would have to tell her, how many lies you'd need to utter to make it so, I will back you up. I get that the consort is a problem that needs eliminated, but if it could be handled another way… "
"I will take that under advisement. The truth is, I'd rather she not be involved, either. But, she was adamant when she expressed her wishes to myself and Lady Gunilda yesterday. If the opportunity presents and it can be handled without her, you just might have your wish." the Sheriff said.
"Or, you could create an opportunity?"
"I will consider everything you've said, Robert."
"I appreciate that."
"Good. Does that mean you still support our union?" he asked.
"Yes. I know you care for her. And, nobody could protect her like you can." Robert said.
"Good. Now that we've got that sorted, let's talk about the skills you have with daggers." Nottingham smirked.
"That was more to do with throwing than anything else." Robert said, modestly.
"How are you with handling a sword?" Nottinhgam asked.
"Fine. I can manage well."
"You have one?"
"When I was brought here, my sword was left behind."
"Hmm. Right. Then, I want you to grab one from the armoury. It will be yours unless you decide to forge a better one for yourself in future. Everyone of us needs to be armed today in case the Christian Brotherhood cretins show up." the Sheriff instructed.
"Very well. Consider it done." Robert nodded.
Then, they left the office and made their way back to rejoin the meeting in the Council Quarters.
Drake was positioned outside the front door of Lady Gunilda's cottage. So far, everything was going well, but that was because neither had needed to come up with an explanation for his being there, yet. The rain fell softly, landing with a splat sound on the dead leaves that were scattered on the cobblestone path, just in front of the covered area where he was standing. Most of the trees were nearly bare, except for the two evergreen trees on the property. There was light seen beyond the window near where he stood. He suspected Lady Gunilda was preparing something in the kitchen, since he didn't hear voices. Then, the door creaked open. He instinctively put his right hand on the pommel of his sword and turned around.
"Good morning, Drake." Gunilda smiled. She wore a stylish gown in navy blue velvet.
Even this early in the day she looked poised and polished, Drake couldn't help but think to himself as he took in the sight of her.
"Oh. Good morrow, my lady." he noticed she held a cup in her hand.
"Here. I've brought you some tea. It's rather chill out here." she said as she passed it to him.
"You don't need to look after me, Lady Gunilda. I'm here to serve."
"Nonsense! You still need to replenish yourself. Take it."
He took the cup from her and took a sip.
"Oh, my. Now, that is the most interesting cup of tea I've ever tasted. What variety of tea is this?" Drake asked.
"It's my special brew. You'll never taste it again unless you get it from me. It's not so much the tea, it's how it's brewed, and what is added." she winked.
"Is that… spirits I'm tasting in this?" he asked as he tentatively took another small sip, trying to identify the flavours.
"Only a little. A mead with honey, and a dash of juniper was added."
"I'm on duty, Lady Gunilda. None of us imbibe when we're on duty. It dulls the sens — "
"Just drink it, Drake. It's a day of celebration in Nottingham. The quantity is too small to render you drunk. Just enjoy it! You're going to eat, too. You won't be any use to me, or the Sheriff if I don't keep you fed and hydrated." Gunilda smiled.
"That is very kind, but you mustn't go to any trouble. I'm here for a reason, and it's not to be entertained by you." Drake said. Even though I wouldn't object to that under normal circumstances.
"I'm sure you'd rather be performing your usual assignment — whatever that would be. But, you're here now. There is no law that says I can't provide basic necessities to you. You will drink that, and then you shall eat." Gunilda insisted.
Actually, I'm glad of this change in assignment. He can send me here anytime he wants. Drake thought as he gazed into her caramel coloured eyes, framed by her long, dark lashes. He concealed a smirk as he gratefully took another sip of her magnificent concoction.
"What about your ward? Is she awake?" Drake asked, curiously.
"I just checked. She appears to be still in dreamland."
"Well, that works — for now. I doubt she'll be thrilled when she sees me here."
"Probably not, but we'll handle it, Drake. Now, you drink the tea, and I'll be right back." Gunilda smirked.
"Very well." he nodded.
A short time later, she returned to him holding a plate.
"There's a chair beside you, Drake. Take a seat. You need to be fortified." Gunilda said.
Drake hesitated a moment, then shrugged. He took a seat in the chair, and she passed him the plate. There were eggs, ham slices, fresh baked bread, grapes and cheese upon it. Next, she handed him a napkin and cutlery.
"I must say, I'm not accustomed to being catered to like this." Drake said as he tried the eggs.
"I'm sure. I won't tell anyone if you don't." Gunilda smirked.
"Deal!" Drake smiled.
"Have you thought about what you will tell her for your reason for being here?"
"Of course, Lady Gunilda. Don't worry. It's not so far fetched that it won't be believable." Drake assured her.
"Good. You'll see what she's like. She's unhinged, Drake. She lives in her very own fantasy world."
"Yes, you kind of hinted to that when you spoke to me at the castle last evening." he said as he took a bite of ham from his fork.
"Just don't be… too alarmed. She has it in that foolish head of hers that she is the Sheriff's one and only." Gunilda said with a quirk of her brow.
"I can't imagine where she'd get an idea like that." Drake sighed, shaking his head.
"I don't know, either. She's always been a bit strange, but this is very unusual, indeed."
"Thanks for the warning. And, most of all, thanks for this delicious food and tea." Drake smiled.
"Our little secret, Drake. I'm good at keeping secrets." she smirked, with a knowing quirk of her brow.
"That's certainly good to know." he grinned.
Just as Drake finished the food that Gunilda had brought to him, they heard noises coming from inside the home.
"Perhaps you should go inside, Milady." Drake suggested, as he stood from his chair.
"Or, perhaps we should get this over with?" Gunilda argued as she took the plate and the cup. She covered the plate with the napkin, then hid them under an evergreen shrub that was in front of the porch. "Don't know if you were finished with the tea, but I'll get you more, Drake. After I deal with her." Gunilda smirked.
Within moments, the door opened. Celestria stepped outside, curious to see whom the man was Gunilda was talking to.
"What's going on here?" Celestria asked them both. Then she focused on Drake. "Isn't it a little early to be knocking on doors?"
"He didn't knock, Celestria." Gunilda remarked.
"What? But, he looks like one of the Sheriff's men. Wait. Did you… you didn't report — "
"You best step inside, Miss. it's not safe out here." Drake said, as he made a point to look around them before looking back to her.
"What? What are you talking about?"
"There's a group of men we're after, and another one on his own who is a danger, too. The Sheriff sent some of us to be strategically stationed at various homes in the vicinity to protect the public, and catch these bastards if we see them." Drake said without hesitation as he looked into her eyes.
Gunilda gave a knowing smirk to Drake, then she looked down to conceal a giggle.
"Wh… what?" Celestria asked, completely baffled by this turn of events.
"It's true, Miss. You best go inside."
"That's a bunch of bollocks! Lady Gunilda was already out here with you. If there's so much danger about, why was she permitted out of the cottage?" Celestria demanded, as she put her hands on her hips.
"Because I needed to speak with her." Drake replied.
"Really? About what?"
"I needed to inform her of being assigned to watch her home. Then, I needed to know the number of occupants inside the home, and who was inside." Drake said.
"Oh. I see." Celestria frowned.
Well done, Drake! Damn. You're a keeper! Handsome as hell, and quick witted, too. George can send him to me anytime. Gunilda thought with a smirk.
"You go inside. I'll let you know if you ladies need to take cover."
"But, I need to leave later." Celestria said.
"I'm afraid I can't permit that, Miss. Orders from the Sheriff."
"What? But, I must get to him… my lover, you see. He's expecting me." Celestria pouted.
"I'm afraid that's going to have to wait. It's not happening today, Miss. If your lover cares for you, he will understand. I'm sure he'd want you safe, would he not?" Drake pointed out.
"It must be today! We're… planning to start our life together this day!"
"Really? That's a shame, Miss; but, there's plenty of days to come. You mustn't fret." Drake said, attempting to assuage her. Was the Sheriff the "lover" she was speaking of?
"Come, Celestria. He can't do his job properly if you spend all morning arguing with him." Gunilda sighed.
"This is ridiculous. Why this home? Couldn't you man the next home over, or something?" Celestria insisted.
"No, Miss. This is what His Lordship has asked of me, and this is how it will be. It's unfortunate it's altered your plans with your… lover, but, I'm sure your lover would prefer if you were alive and unharmed. Wouldn't you agree?"
"I… uhh… I suppose." Celestria huffed.
"I don't understand, Gunilda? This seems rather odd to me." Celestria whispered as she was ushered inside.
"It will be fine. You'll feel better after you break your fast and enjoy a nice cup of tea." Gunilda soothed. She looked back to Drake and mouthed the words "thank you" to him.
Drake smiled, giving a nod and watched the pretty raven haired lady escort the problem maiden back inside, and wondered what she would look like without her navy velvet gown covering her.
The Sheriff and Robert had returned to the meeting chamber to rejoin the men. Everyone looked upon them curiously, wondering what transpired between them in the time they were absent.
"Everything alright, Milord?" Duke Farnsworth asked.
"Yes." the Sheriff replied, simply. "Did Guy go over the details with you?"
"Yes, Milord. We're clear on the plan." Mordrid said.
"Except, how will we know who they are? The Brotherhood blokes, Milord?" Luke asked.
"If they suddenly reach for our weapons and point them towards one of us, you'll know." he said, dryly.
"Everyone will be checked for weapons at the gate, for one thing." Duke Farnsworth added.
"The guests who are invited have been here before. Although, there's some Luke and Ancel may not recognize." the Sheriff said.
"So, Luke and Ancel won't be assigned portcullis duty, then." the Captain said.
"Obviously. Besides, their skills will be best served elsewhere. The top men will be inside the cathedral for the ceremony, then in the Grand Hall for the fete. Others will be present, too, but it's imperative they are there, closely observing." the Sheriff said.
"Of course, Milord." Mordrid said.
Luke and Ancel nodded in agreement, as well.
"Everyone will be armed. Robert will be armed, too." he added.
"Good." Guy said.
"I'm happy to help." Robert nodded.
"When was the last time you used a sword?" Guy asked.
"It's been a few months, because I've been without my own blade since I… arrived here. But, I did survive the Crusade using my sword." Robert said with a knowing quirk of his brow.
"Yes. Of course." Guy nodded.
"Everyone clear on the plan?" the Sheriff asked them collectively.
Each of them expressed their agreement.
"Good. The others need to be notified. I want an extra man at the portcullis. I'll leave that to you, Duke. Make sure the men at the portcullis have been here long enough they can recognize an intruder, and that they're not hesitant to use some muscle." the Sheriff instructed.
"Consider it done, Milord." Duke Farnsworth nodded.
"Make sure you warn the men that one of the intruders might be a woman — in case the cursed whore manages to get past Drake somehow. And, of course, remind them of the stumpy bloke who may be brazen enough to attempt to gain entry." he added.
"Of course, Milord." the Captain nodded.
The ladies were seated in the salon, sipping a soothing chamomile tea which Madam Oberon insisted they try. She told them it would calm them, thus making her job a little easier. It was time to begin preparing their faces and their hair for their grand reveal at the most talked about event of the year.
Madam Oberon entered into the room carrying a tray containing a basket; hairbrush; small vials of various fragranced oils; a few ribbons; tiny brushes; and the three silk drawstring bags that she prepared for each of them containing the necessary products to be applied to their faces, lips, and lashes.
"Now, mes chers, we are ready to begin." Madam Oberon smiled as she set the tray down on the table before them.
"Oh, good! Can we start by getting these headache inducing roller things out of our heads?" Meridwyn pleaded.
"Shouldn't we be dressing first?" Rhiannon asked.
"Non, and non." Madam Oberon said, flatly.
"Why? That doesn't make sense?" Isabelle asked.
"The last thing to be done is donning your new gowns. We shall start with preparing your faces. Colour will be applied to your cheeks, your lips, eyelids, and lashes. Then, we work on your hair. Next, you shall dress, and afterward, we'll add the flowers to your hair, Mademoiselle Rhiannon. So, do keep in mind that Monsieur Flower Man will be popping by sometime soon, so we best begin." Madam Oberon warned.
"Since we're expecting Galfrey, perhaps we should dress first?" Rhiannon suggested.
"No. That would risk the possible transference of the colour from the powders and creams onto the fabric of your gowns. There's good reason why these steps are being followed in specific order, mes chers. Trust me." Madam Oberon said.
"Very well, Madame. I trust you. You know best. Begin, then." Rhiannon said as she sipped of her tea.
"C'est bon. I will begin with Dame Isabelle."
One by one, the seamstress deftly tended to each of them. She washed their skin, applied a buttery soft cream to it, then began to gently and precisely apply the powders, and the tinted creams to their faces. Lastly, she darkened their eyelashes. Then, she gave them a handheld mirror to pass between them.
"Oh, my! I never imagined this was possible?" Isabelle remarked as she stared into her reflection, lightly touching her face to confirm it was real.
"I look like one of those courtesan women — except, so much better. My eyes have never looked so blue! Guy is going to fall over." Meridwyn said, softly. She was stunned by the change in her appearance. Then, she passed the mirror over to Rhiannon.
Rhiannon held it up in front of her face. It took a few moments for her to respond, then her jaw fell slightly agape. It was truly a work of art.
"This is more than I could have possibly hoped for. Merci beaucoup, Madame." Lady Rhiannon smiled.
"Je t'en prie, Mademoiselle Rhiannon." the seamstress smiled. (You're welcome) "Now, it is time we work on your hair."
"Finally." Meridwyn muttered.
"I shall start with Dame Isabelle."
"Very well. I'm interested to see how this will look." Isabelle said.
Madam Oberon stood behind Isabelle and began to take the hand sewn rollers out of Isabelle's hair, placing them into the basket. Rhiannon and Meridwyn observed intently as each of them were removed, until finally, they were all out. What was left was super curly hair, where the curls were so tight one would think her hair had been cut. The two of them began to giggle.
"Oh, no. It looks funny, doesn't it?" Isabelle asked.
"It is amusing, I'll say that for it." Meridwyn said.
"We're only just getting started, mes chers. Patience. This is where patience is needed." Madam Oberon commented as she reached for the brush.
She began to brush the hair in sections, and often brushed out the same section many times. What was left was soft, elegant waves, as she shaped each wave over her fingers using the brush.
"Oh, my God!" Meridwyn exclaimed.
"What is it?" Isabelle asked, nervously.
"I can't believe the difference." Rhiannon said.
"Is it… bad?" Isabelle asked.
"No, honey. Not at all. You look positively stunning!" Meridwyn exclaimed, excitedly.
"It's beautiful, Isabelle." Rhiannon smiled.
"Still, this is just the beginning." Madam Oberon smiled. "Now, Dame Isabelle, how do you want it? Up? Down? A little bit of both? Some braids in it?"
"A little bit of both, using a couple of small braids, perhaps." Isabelle said.
"Parfaite! That will look lovely on you, mon cher. I shall weave a ribbon through the braids that will match your gown. Are you agreeable?"
"Oh, yes. That sounds wonderful, Madam Oberon." Isabelle smiled.
"C'est bon! Let's get started, then. I also need to add a little oil to your hair to add shine." Madam Oberon smiled.
The Sheriff was standing at the table with the large mirror, near the window in the private chambers, dressed only in his breeches and boots as he prepared to shave. He recently stepped out of the bath, and now it was time to begin preparing. He applied a thick cream to his face and neck, and grabbed a straight razor to clean up the extra stubble. Deftly, he scraped the blade along his skin until he was satisfied, then he removed the extra bits of cream with a towel.
Next, he finished dressing. A black silk tunic which he tucked into his breeches. Then, he added a black velvet doublet that matched well with his black suede breeches. It was trimmed with golden buttons, and fancy embroidery of golden silk around the collar and the hem of the sleeves. He would add the black suede surcoat that was trimmed in gold just before leaving.
He walked out into the den and poured a libation of brandy into his goblet, then took it and sat by the fire. He leaned back in his chair, resting one boot on the table in front of him, and began to sip it, letting the liquid slowly warm him. He rarely got a moment to relax like this, and he was trying to enjoy this moment of reprieve. He heard the rain falling outside of the window. He took his goblet and walked over to it. He thought if he looked closely at the rain falling it would serve as a distraction. He could look at it and remember when he met her. Instead, the tight feeling in his gut kept intensifying.
He exhaled sharply as he realized — he should have listened to Guy. The consort should have been handled by now. The Sheriff had a nagging thought running through his head. He tried to put it out of his mind because he shouldn't have that thought, especially not today. He had too many questions, and he still had a bone to pick with Mortianna. He took his goblet of brandy and headed to the door that led down into Mortianna's lair.
Lady Rhiannon stood in front of her sisters in law, marvelling at how beautiful they both looked. They were both dressed now, but neither had seen the full effect yet. Madam Oberon was directing them to the full length mirror when Rhiannon stood and gasped.
"Wait until you see! You are both breathtaking." Rhiannon smiled.
"For now. My hair is going to be back to its usual kinkiness the moment a drop of rain hits it." Meridwyn frowned.
"Do not fret, Dame Meridwyn. Your hair will be covered when you're outside." Madam Oberon said, as she gestured to the mirror.
Meridwyn and Isabelle walked over to where the floor length mirror stood and stopped, gazing upon their reflections.
"I'm… shocked. In a nice way; but, do you think Robert will think I look like a… harlot?" Isabelle asked as she turned side to side, critiquing her appearance.
"For crying out loud! Here we go again!" Meridwyn sighed.
"Absolutely not, Isabelle. If he says anything untoward about your gown, or anything else, I will kick him into next week. I'm quite certain he will be pleased, however. If he isn't, well… then, there's something bloody well wrong with him!" Rhiannon said, firmly.
"I just love my gown. The colour, fabric. The whole look has me nearly beside myself. My Guy is going to be quite impressed. I'm sure of it." Meridwyn smiled.
"The colour is beautiful on you, Meridwyn. In fact, both of your gowns are perfect for each of you. Both enhance the colour of your eyes. It's astonishing, really." Rhiannon said.
"It's your turn now, Rhi. Time to get out of that dressing gown and put on your wedd — " Meridwyn was interrupted.
"No. The more I think of it the more I realize it was foolish of me to ask about getting dressed for Galfrey's arrival, earlier. I'm going to stay just like this until after he's come and gone. No man besides my brother is going to be permitted to see me in all of my wedding splendour before my George can." Rhiannon stated.
"Understood." Meridwyn said.
"Makes perfect sense to me." Isabelle nodded.
"I agree completely, Mademoiselle Rhiannon." Madam Oberon smiled.
Just then, there was a knock at the door. Madam Oberon answered it.
"Good day, Madam. Galfredus Gateron here to see Lady Rhiannon Wordsworth about her wedding flowers." Galfrey nodded, holding a box in his hands.
"Ah! Oui. Do come in, s'il vous plaît." Madam Oberon said as she held the door for him. "Mademoiselle Rhiannon! Monseiur Gateron is here to see you, mon cher!" she called out.
Rhiannon came to the door to greet him.
They exchanged greetings, and then Galfrey presented the flowers.
"These will look nice in your hair, Milady Rhiannon." Galfrey said, nodding to the box. "I've everything you requested… except, of course, the gardenias. You recall we decided that even if we could obtain them, which we cannot — even in a fat chance in hell — that anyone daring to touch the petals would turn them brown? Not a good look on your wedding day, Milady."
"Yes, Galfrey. I do recall you warning me about that, and I do agree. Just… tell me you got me plenty of white roses, and white poppies?" Rhiannon asked, eagerly.
"I surely did, Milady. I think you'll be pleased." Galfrey said as he set the box down on a table and lifted the lid to show her.
Meridwyn and Isabelle joined in the fray to take a look, as well.
"Oh, they're beautiful, Galfrey." Rhiannon gasped.
"Gorgeous!" Isabelle exclaimed.
"Those are going to be perfect in your hair and with your gown, Rhiannon. With that unique train on your gown, you're going to look positively regal." Meridwyn smiled.
"The colours are going to look perfect against your hair, Mademoiselle Rhiannon!" Madam Oberon agreed.
"I'm still surprised you didn't want a wreath, Lady Rhiannon." Galfrey said.
"Every woman wears those. I want something different." Rhiannon said. Then she looked to Meridwyn. "I mean no offence, Meridwyn. The orange blossom wreath you wore was beautiful on you. I just desire a different look." she explained.
"No offence taken, Rhiannon. I understand." Meridwyn smiled.
"I can see it in my mind, mon cher." Madam Oberon smiled.
"Good. I was hoping you would." Rhiannon nodded.
"The rest of the flowers have been placed in the cathedral, the entrance to the castle and the foyer, and the Grand Hall, Milady. I think you'll be pleased with the arrangements." he said.
"Thank you, Galfrey. I'm sure I will be. This is exactly as I envisioned." she smiled.
"Very good. I wish you and Milord Sheriff good fortune on this special occasion, Milady." Galfrey bowed, then he took leave of them.
"Come, Mademoiselle Rhiannon. We must get you dressed, and then we shall add the flowers to your hair." Madam Oberon smiled as she guided Rhiannon to the dressing area.
Drake continued to stand guard outside of the front door of Lady Gunilda's home. He was relieved that there hadn't been any further encounters with the problem consort. He expected there would be. Just as he was beginning to wonder if she calmed down, perhaps at the hand of Gunilda, he heard footsteps approaching from his left. They were sounding like they were coming from the direction of the back of the home, and moving toward where he was positioned at the front. He positioned his right hand on the pommel of his sword, in readiness for the encounter.
Finally, a tall burly bald man with a dark beard and moustache appeared before him.
"Good morrow. Can I help you?" Drake asked.
"Are you one of the Sheriff's Black Knights?" the man asked.
"Yes. Officer Drake. I'm assigned as of today to guard Lady Gunilda. And… whom night you be?"
"I see. I'm Safforus. I managed the stables, and the grounds for Gamel Hayward. I stayed on when Lady Gunilda took possession of the home and property. I noticed you earlier when I was coming out of the stables. Naturally, I'm curious why you're here — all of a sudden." he said as he narrowed his eyes, suspiciously.
"Of course. The Sheriff assigned me this task. There's a few malcontents, and a malefactor running amuck. One of them is an escaped prisoner we expect would be looking for refuge. This home would be a target as the ownership has changed, and Lady Gunilda might not recognize intruders as easily as a permanent resident would — like, your former employer, for instance." Drake explained, while he removed his hand from the pommel.
"I see. Are you referring to those Brothers for Jesus blokes, or whatever they call themselves, as being the… malcontents?" Safforus asked.
"What do you know about them?" Drake asked with his dark eyes narrowed.
"They're a strange bunch. Talk about old fashioned. If they had their way, they'd set us back a hundred years. A couple of them tried to talk me into checking out one of their meetings. Like, they wanted to recruit me. I told them not so politely to sod off." Safforus sighed.
"What is their goal?" Drake asked.
"To restore us to pious traditions, or some such utter codswallop. The leader is a Priest. Father Tuttle is his name. That tells me everything right there, I don't know about you."
"Yes, it does sound rather outdated." Drake agreed. Then he cleared his throat before changing the subject. "What's your background? You don't look like a typical stable master, if you'll pardon me for saying so. You look more like a warrior to me." Drake observed.
"You trying to recruit me to the Black Knights?" Safforus laughed.
"I'm not in a position to do so, but there's opportunities available as an extension to the Black Knights. I'm just saying."
"I fought in the Crusade. Came back from Jerusalem a few years ago. Saw a lot of crap over there I'd rather forget, so I decided on a quieter life." Safforus explained.
"Well, managing the grounds and stables of this quaint little cottage would certainly achieve that." Drake said.
"It works, for now. I'd be open to something different if the right opportunity presented. It depends what it is. Anyway, what about this fugitive bloke who escaped from the Sheriff's dungeon? Describe him to me — in case he gets to me before you."
"He is quite easy to spot. He's very short. Almost as round as he is tall. Balding ginger hair, a few chins. Kind of looks like a tree stump." Drake smirked.
"Sounds like a bloke only a mother could love. I'll watch for him. Haven't seen anyone fitting that description as yet. I'd remember a bloke who looked like that." Safforus chuckled.
"Indeed." Drake smirked.
"It was good to meet you, Drake. I best return to the stables. Just call out if you require backup."
"Thank you, Safforus. I will." Drake nodded.
After Safforus left, the front door opened and Gunilda stepped outside.
"Isn't she going to be wondering why you're out here talking to me?" Drake asked her.
"No. She's down for the count. I gave her some tea — with a couple of drops of Devil's root added. Just like last night. She's sleeping soundly with Queen Belladonna at the moment, Drake." Gunilda smiled.
"Well, aren't you clever?"
"If you say so, Drake. But, yes. I can be." Gunilda said.
"Was she referring to the Sheriff earlier? As being her lover?" Drake asked.
"Yes. The one and only." Gunilda sighed, rolling her eyes.
"Oh. She really is delusional, isn't she?"
"Indeed. And, becoming increasingly harder to handle." Gunilda sighed as she began to rub her shoulders and her neck.
"Let me, Lady Gunilda." Drake suggested.
"Excuse me?" Gunilda asked.
Drake walked toward her, and positioned himself behind her. He placed his hands upon her shoulders and began to massage them, then he kneaded the tightness out of the taut muscles in her neck. Gunilda closed her eyes, tensing her facial muscles in response to the initial pain; but, then she soon relaxed and sighed.
"That's much better." Gunilda whispered as she leaned her head back against his chest.
"Yes. Your muscles are relaxing. I can feel it." Drake said, softly.
"It's so much better when you do it, than anything I can do myself." Gunilda said.
"Good. I'm glad it's helping." he whispered.
At this moment, Celestria was standing at the front window peering out of it, and observing Lady Gunilda and whatever this dance of seduction was that was taking place between her and the Sheriff's Knight. She smirked as she realized she had a perfect opportunity now to make an escape.
Celestria was suspicious of the tea Gunilda served her earlier, and every time Gunilda wasn't looking she was expelling the tiny mouthfuls of it into a napkin. Then she pretended to fall asleep. It was now clear to Celestria that Gunilda must have reported her; and the Sheriff sent this tall dark haired Knight to stop her from leaving. Funny, how it seemed there was even more to it than that from the looks of things beyond the window, but Celestria didn't have time to ponder that. Now was the time. Gunilda and the Sheriff's Knight were seemingly quite preoccupied. Who knew where that shoulder massage would lead? She grabbed her cape and her dagger, and quietly escaped from the rear entrance.
"That should do it, Milady." Drake said, removing his hands from her shoulders.
"Yes. Thank you. They feel less tense for sure." Gunilda said.
Then, Gunilda saw a flash of movement ahead of her and to the right, weaving around one of the evergreen trees. She thought she recognized Celestria's cape. She took a few steps forward and closed her eyes to concentrate, unobtrusively placing a hand out in front of her, and muttering incantations under her breath.
A moment later, a bolt of lightning touched down on an oak tree just ahead of Celestria by only thirty feet or so, splitting the trunk. Large portions of branches began to fall. Celestria was startled, but managed to get past it and out of the way of falling limbs and debris.
"What the absolute hell just happened? I've never witnessed anything like that in my life!" Drake exclaimed.
"Curses! She got away. The silly little wretch got away!"
"What?"
"She made her escape, Drake! Didn't you see her sneaking through the trees?" Gunilda asked.
"No. I was too busy wondering how a bolt of lightning just appeared out of nowhere in this chill weather — to split a sturdy oak tree, to be frank!" a beat. "How are you not alarmed by that?" Drake asked, narrowing his eyes, suspiciously.
"So much for the tea. She must have spat it out, in suspicion I was drugging her. Damn the girl!" Gunilda exclaimed in frustration, ignoring his question.
"Don't worry, Milady. She won't get far very fast on foot. You go inside. It's safer there in case more lightning touches down. I'll go after her." Drake instructed.
"There won't be more lightning." Gunilda whispered inaudibly, only to herself.
Drake ran in the direction he suspected the consort took, as Gunilda stood observing, her back against the door.
The Sheriff had just finished a long diatribe in which he strongly admonished his counsel for daring to reveal something so personal and private about him to Lady Rhiannon, without clearing it with him first.
"Did it not work in your favour, Milord? Lady Rhiannon accepts and is understanding of your past history with the… comely witch." Mortianna pointed out.
"Yes. That is true. But, it comes with a downside, too." he huffed.
"Which is what, Milord?"
"She has dictated how I must handle the consort." he sighed, and then uttered the nagging thought that wouldn't leave him. "Why am I allowing a woman to dictate how I should handle a problem? And, why is the sodding consort bitch still a problem, anyway? The foxglove was useless! I gave the full measure of it. It didn't work, Crone!" he spat in frustration.
"If ye recall, when I gave ye the vial of foxglove I said that a half dram should work, not that a half dram definitely will work." Mortianna explained.
"Next time you will be one hundred percent certain. You gave me an inferior product, and now, look at the mess we're in? On my wedding day, no less! That machinating whore still has plans to put an end to my lady, and my lady wants to be the one to take care of her. If you hadn't ran your mouth off to Rhiannon yesterday, I could have had the sodding bitch ran through by now!" Nottingham snapped.
"Yes, Milord. I see the error of my ways. Forgive me." Mortianna said.
"Always remember: you work for me!"
"Of course, Milord." she nodded.
"You best get your vial of snake blood and your runes ready, Madam. I need to know if you can see anything unusual that will take place this day." Nottingham said, then took a sip of his brandy.
"I've already seen it, child. Or… some of it. It's difficult to distinguish beyond a certain point. It's like my vision is being blocked by an outside source?" Mortianna began to explain, shaking her head.
"What? I've never heard you report anything like that before?"
"Because it's a first, Milord. I saw the fete. Spirits are flowing, music fills the Hall, everyone is joyous. And then… it just stops, abruptly. Everything fades to grey. The only thing that explains it is there is either a mage, or a powerful witch present, and whatever they are doing, I'm not meant to see." Mortianna said.
"What?" he asked, incredulously.
"It's the only explanation I can think of." she repeated.
"Is this mage, or powerful witch attacking us, or defending us?" he asked.
"I do not know. All I know is that they will be there." Mortianna said.
"Unbelievable. As if there aren't enough potential problems to be vigilant for today!"
"I could try again?" she suggested.
"Do it! I need to know what more I need to do to prepare." he instructed her.
Mortianna sighed and walked away from him to gather her implements. The Sheriff stood near the table, his back against the wall. He took a sip of brandy, then set the goblet down and folded his arms. He was of a mind to run after the consort and finish her after the witch tried once more. Surely he could ride to Gilda's home, finish the whore off, and be back in time for the ceremony? He wondered.
After a time, Mortianna returned to him, holding a golden tray. Upon it was a vial, and a small calfskin sack. She placed the tray on the small table, then removed the vial and sack from it. She opened the vile and poured the blood upon the tray, then she emptied the sack onto it. The bone dice runes landed in a clatter upon the tray and into the blood. She picked up the tray to closely examine it.
"What do you see?" the Sheriff asked.
"It takes me to the fete. Everyone is imbibing, laughing. Some are dancing. Ye are looking around from where you're standing for your new bride." Mortianna said.
"That's strange? Where would she go off to at our wedding celebration?"
"That is not clear. You are speaking to Guy, Robert, Nichol, and the Prince." she squinted her good eye as she continued to study it. "Then, Luke is at your side. He appears to be concerned about something, but I can't hear what he's saying to ye. The only thing I can make out is the name "Drake". Who is Drake, Milord?"
"He's one of my men. But, he's currently guarding Gunilda's home— where the scheming whore is staying. Drake shouldn't be at the fete — not unless there's a problem!" the Sheriff huffed.
"Music is filling the room. It's difficult to hear the conversation. Then, Luke steps away. He looks like he is on high alert. He has his hand on the pommel of his sword." Mortianna said as she continued to study the vision she was seeing in the runes.
"Curses! It sounds like trouble from what you're telling me!" Nottingham huffed. He took a generous swill of brandy from his goblet.
Mortianna jolted, then began to shake her head.
"What is it?" he asked, as his eyebrow shot north at her reaction.
"The same thing that happened the last time. There's a bright flash, then everything fades to grey." Mortianna said.
"What? That's impossible!"
"Not if there's a mage, or powerful witch present." she said, softly.
"I must go now, and end that consort once and for all." he huffed.
"There isn't time, child. Not if ye wish to be on time for your wedding."
Nottingham put his palm to his forehead, shook his head and sighed. Then he kicked at a chair in frustration.
"You best hope nothing happens to my bride this day. If anything happens to her, I'm considering you culpable. You're the reason she is adamant about taking care of the consort herself." he said evenly, his jaw tightly set.
Then he exhaled sharply, grabbed his goblet and took his leave.
Drake returned to the cottage close to three quarters of an hour later.
Gunilda opened the door and frowned.
"I lost sight of her, Milady. I don't understand? She's on foot! Did she hitch a ride to the castle on someone's wagon, or — "
"We had better go." Gunilda said, grabbing her cape off the hook on the wall beside her at the door.
"What? No! You should stay here, Milady. I've got a bad feeling about this, and it's best you remain here. Besides, what if a bolt of lightning appears again? I can protect you from a lot of things, but I cannot protect you from that!" Drake huffed.
"It won't." Gunilda said, simply.
"What? How can you know that?" he asked, suspiciously.
He couldn't help but wonder… did she have anything to do with that lightning bolt? He knew there was a possibility she is a witch. She certainly was different to most people. Now, Drake considered something else. Was Lady Gunilda a witch? Or, was she a mage?
"I just do. Come." Gunilda said as she donned her cape, then locked the door.
Drake shook his head and sighed as he followed her. Gunilda was walking quickly toward the stables. As she neared them, she called out.
"Safforus! Saddle my horse, and Officer Drake's horse. Now!"
Emory and Castor were guarding the portcullis this day, along with another young Knight by the name of Beric. There had been a constant onslaught of guests showing up, but at the moment there was a lull. The rain continued to fall softly as they stood, waiting with bated breath for the next group of guests to appear.
"Is this your first time on portcullis duty, Beric?" Castor asked.
"Aye. I'm usually guarding doors, or the dungeon inside the castle."
"I remember those assignments. So boring." Emory remarked.
"It can be. I had a nice surprise granted me a week ago, though. I was guarding the Sheriff's door. Officer Luke showed up and took over from me. I thought he was just there to relieve me for a time. But, he gave me the rest of the day off." Beric shrugged.
"That is certainly unusual. I wouldn't be expecting that sort of thing to happen regularly if I were you. You'll be quite disappointed." Castor said.
"Yes, I figured that." Beric said.
"Here comes another group. Looks like a Priest is steering that wagon." Emory said.
The driver of the wagon pulled on the reins of the horses to stop the wagon in front of the men. Beside him was a young woman. She looked to her lap, quietly keeping to herself.
"Good day, men. I'm here to assist Bishop of Hereford for the wedding ceremony of His Lordship and Lady Wordsworth." the man announced.
"Really? And, who are you?" Castor asked.
"I'm Father Tilly." he said.
"I'm quite certain the Bishop can well handle the ceremony without you. Nice try." Emory said.
"And, whom is that with you?" Beric asked the Priest, nodding to the young woman.
"She is assisting me." the Priest said.
"Ah. So, you're assisting the Bishop, and she is assisting ye. With what? It's a wedding, not a mass confessional!" Castor scoffed.
"I'm telling you, Cas, he's lying." Emory sneered.
"The Sheriff has requested communion for everyone present following the exchanging of vows. That requires a bit of… work. That is why the Bishop of Hereford has requested my assistance. This lass has only just joined the nuns. Sister Isemay sent her to assist me with this task." the Priest said, nodding to the maiden seated beside him.
"Fine. Whatever. You're boring me, and there's more guests behind ye. Both of ye step down from that wagon. We need to make sure you're not carrying, or concealing weapons." Castor said.
The Priest and the quiet young woman nodded, then stepped out of the wagon.
In Madam Oberon's chambers, Ladies Meridwyn and Isabelle were seated on a sofa in the salon, waiting for their friend to emerge from the dressing room. As they were chatting and sipping on chamomile tea, Madam Oberon was first to appear.
"She'll be out in moments, mes chers." the Seamstress beamed.
"I can't believe this day has finally come." Meridwyn said.
"Indeed. I'm eager to see her in all of her glory." Isabelle nodded.
Within a few moments, Rhiannon slowly emerged from the dressing room in the back, walking toward them.
"Oh, Rhiannon! What a glorious sight you are!" Isabelle exclaimed.
"Damn it. I'm going to ruin the tint you put on my lashes, Madam Oberon." Meridwyn sniffed.
"Try not to cry, Dame Meridwyn. I can touch that up before you go, but you must try." Madam Oberon warned.
"Are you sure I look… alright?" Rhiannon asked.
"Alright? Really? You're an absolute vision! You must go to the mirror, honey. Try not to faint." Meridwyn smiled.
Lady Rhiannon smiled, then slowly walked toward the full length mirror. She stopped in front of it, staring at her reflection, stunned by the image before her.
"Madame Oberon… this is exactly how I envisioned it. I love it! I think George just might be rendered speechless very soon." Rhiannon smiled.
"It's so ethereal, the overall effect, Sister. And, the way the flowers are positioned in your hair, it's so unique and elegant. Very different from the usual wedding wreath, but it suits you perfectly!" Isabelle smiled.
"I agree, Isabelle. It's beautiful. She might start a new trend with that!" Meridwyn giggled.
"You do know… it's still raining, Rhiannon?" Isabelle said. She was looking forward to stepping outside, as she was feeling warm and lightheaded for the moment.
"Yes. I'm aware. That's why I came prepared and brought my cape. It will be fine." Rhiannon said.
Madam Oberon looked to the floor and smirked. She had a surprise for Mademoiselle Rhiannon, but she would wait until just the perfect time before presenting it.
Just then, there was a knock at the door.
Madam Oberon went to answer it. Within moments she was bringing Sir Guy of Gisborne, and Robert Wordsworth inside the salon to join the ladies.
They stopped in their tracks when they saw the ladies.
"Oh, my! All of you look ravishing." Guy said. He walked over to his wife and kissed her hand. "My lady, you are a sight to behold." he smiled.
"Thank you, husband." Meridwyn smiled.
"I… can't believe it." Robert whispered, as he looked to his wife, and then to his sister.
"Is it… too much?" Isabelle asked.
"I'd think carefully about how you answer that, if I were you, Brother." Rhiannon smirked.
"It's… most unexpected." Robert said.
"Too bright? Over the top?" Isabelle asked.
"Oh, for crying out loud." Meridwyn muttered.
"Robert, I swear, if you give her a hard time you shall feel my boot up your — " Rhiannon was interrupted.
"I've never seen you look more beautiful, dearest. Except, on our wedding day." Robert smiled, as he took Isabelle's hand and kissed it.
"Thank you, sweet husband." Isabelle said.
"And you!" Robert exclaimed as he turned to his sister. "We may be witness to a first in the history of the shire, with you looking like that."
"What do you mean?" Rhiannon asked.
"He may be in danger of falling over on first glance of you, Rhiannon. You look… stunning." Robert smiled.
"Thank you, Brother." she smiled back, as he kissed her cheek.
"I will concur with that, Robert." Guy smiled. Then he looked to his wife and Isabelle. "Well, ladies, are you ready? I shall escort you both, then Robert will join us after he's escorted Lady Rhiannon down the aisle. Robert and I brought your capes since it's raining outside. They're hanging by the door."
"I'm ready, Guy." Meridwyn smiled.
"I am, too." Isabelle said. She squeezed Robert's hand before she walked over to join Meridwyn and Sir Guy.
"You ready, Rhi? I'd embrace you, but we already did that and I don't want to wrinkle your gown." Meridwyn said.
"Indeed." Isabelle nodded.
"I'm good, Sisters. Better than ever. I'm marrying my George in a few moments." Rhiannon smiled.
Guy walked over to her and took her hand and kissed it.
"I am pleased you shall be my sister in law, Lady Rhiannon. You bring life to my cousin." he smiled.
"Thank you, Sir Guy. Your words move me." Rhiannon smiled.
Guy nodded, then he and Robert took their ladies closer to the door and helped them don their capes. Then, Guy escorted them out of the chambers.
"Do not leave here until I return, Mademoiselle Rhiannon. I'm stepping out for a moment to change my gown, and I'm bringing one more little surprise for you." Madam Oberon said.
"Of course, Madam Oberon." Rhiannon smiled, wondering what the surprise could be.
The seamstress smiled then left the salon, heading to her private chambers.
"You're beautiful, Sister." Robert whispered.
"Thank you, Robert." Rhiannon smiled.
"Don't… change too much." Robert said.
"Why would I change at all?"
"You… already have." he muttered as he looked downcast.
"What? What are you talking about, Brother?"
"Do me a favour… just let George handle it." Robert hinted.
"Let… George handle what?" Rhiannon asked, as she narrowed her eyes, suspiciously.
"I know about the consort you plan to kill." Robert suddenly blurted.
"WHAT?"
"He had no choice, Rhiannon. We had a meeting this morning. One of the people we were told to watch out for is the consort whom, apparently, wants you dead. Naturally, I had many questions. I demanded answers. So, we left the meeting, and I pushed and pushed until George filled me in." a beat. "You hired a consort for him? Were you mad?" Robert sighed, shaking his head.
"What the bleeding hell? Are you jesting right now? How dare he tell you of this!" Rhiannon huffed as she walked away from her brother toward the window. She folded her arms as she tried to distract herself by gazing out of it.
"What did you expect, Rhiannon? Everyone is on high alert for a few people that want to throw a kink in your wedding plans. One of those people, we were told, is a consort with a twisted plan. Naturally, I had questions. He tried to throw me off, but I persisted until, finally, I got the whole story. And, you wish to kill her yourself! I get that the woman has been a thorn in both of your sides, but have you thought about how that will change you?" Robert implored her.
"He had no right involving you in this!" Rhiannon exclaimed as she whirled around to face him.
"Rhiannon, I didn't give him a choice. Do not blame him. I'm his Advisor, so I was present at the meeting. Of course, as your brother, I had plenty of concerns about a consort with a "twisted plan" who may intrude upon your wedding celebration."
"You have no idea what that conniving whore has put us through!" Rhiannon huffed.
"I've a very good idea after my talk with him. I understand why you want to take care of it. I just don't think you realize how this will affect you. There's no going back once you've taken a life." he cautioned.
"Even if they deserve it?" Rhiannon retorted.
"Just think about it." Robert said, softly.
"I don't know who I'm more angry with. You, or him."
"Don't be angry with him. It's your wedding day. He loves you, and God know's, he shall always protect you. Better than anyone else ever could; and you need that, Rhiannon. Whether you want to admit it or not." Robert said.
"But, he told you about something personal, that only he and I knew."
"I didn't give him a choice, Rhiannon. I'm sorry, but when your life is in danger, it affects me, too." Robert said.
"Well, I'm not very pleased to hear this, but, what's done is done. I will think about what you've said, Brother. I'm starting to regret he offered you that role, however." Rhiannon sighed.
"It's an unusual circumstance. You mustn't worry yourself that he'll share secrets with me. Just think on what I said, and let's focus on what's to come. We must get you to the cathedral."
"I do love him, Robert." Rhiannon said, softly.
"Of course, you do. And, I can see plainly that he loves you. I'm pleased for you, Sister."
"Thank you. I might need to have words with him later, however." Rhiannon muttered.
"Don't let it put a damper on your day. I needed to take a moment to implore you to reconsider your plan. I've said my piece. Let's just put that to rest and get through the next steps." Robert suggested.
"Very well. I'm still a bit… disappointed with you both, however." she sighed. Then, she walked back toward him.
Just then, Madam Oberon returned to them, holding something shiny in her arms.
"Your cape is lovely, Mademoiselle Rhiannon, but it's a poor match for your wedding gown. This will work better for you, I think." she smiled as she held it up to show it to the bride.
"Oh, Madame! Merci beaucoup! It's absolutely divine!" Rhiannon exclaimed.
"Indeed. I've never seen anything quite like it." Robert smiled.
He took the cape from Madam Oberon and put it on Rhiannon. The effect was magical, the way it complemented her gown, and the flowers in her hair.
"How do I look?" Rhiannon asked.
"Like a vision." Madam Oberon smiled.
"Stunning." Robert smiled.
"Good. I just need to stop at the private chambers, and then we'll be on our way." Rhiannon said to her brother.
"Why? What do you need from there?" Robert asked.
"I'll be quick. There's no need to be concerned." Rhiannon said. She looked to her Wardrobe Mistress. "You look lovely, Madame. I'm glad you're coming."
"Merci, Mademoiselle Rhiannon. I wouldn't miss it, mon cher." she smiled.
"We should go if you insist on stopping at the private chambers." Robert said.
"I'm ready." Rhiannon nodded.
Nottingham donned his surcoat and opened the door to leave the private chambers. He was surprised to see Nichol there, his hand poised to knock.
"What is it, Nic? Trouble already?" the Sheriff asked.
"No. Can a man not offer to walk his friend to the cathedral on his wedding day?" Nichol smiled.
"Of course. I suppose I just… wasn't expecting it." he said as he closed the door.
"Nervous?" Nichol asked as they walked together down the corridor toward the staircase.
"About marrying my lady? No. I'm more than ready for that." he said.
"Good. Everyone is gathered. All we need is you, and then the bride. Too bad about the rain, however." Nichol frowned.
"Rain is fine. It's common for this time of year, and reminds me of the day I met Rhiannon. It's perfect, actually." the Sheriff remarked.
Robert waited at the door as Rhiannon went into the bedchamber in the Sheriff's private chambers. Just as he was getting impatient, wondering what was keeping her, she emerged.
"Okay, I'm ready now, Robert." Rhiannon said.
"You mind telling me what was so important that you needed to grab at the last second?"
Rhiannon reached into the pocket of her cape and extracted a delicate linen handkerchief adorned with lace. She held it up to show him and he recognized it immediately.
"Mother's handkerchief. I haven't seen that since… you were born." Robert whispered.
"Father gave it to me about six months before he died. Told me he gave it to her before they married. So, today I shall have a piece of both of them with me." she smiled.
"A lovely token, Sis. Now, can we go?" he asked.
"Yes. I've everything I need." Rhiannon smirked as she took his arm and stuffed the handkerchief back into the pocket of her cape.
Then, she patted over the cape to feel for the item she had placed in the right pocket of the skirt of her wedding gown. It was safely tucked inside. She was ready, and prepared for any eventuality. Most of all, she was soon to behold the face of her betrothed, who would be her husband in just a very short time.
At this time Drake and Lady Gunilda we're nearing the portcullis at Nottingham Castle. They pulled on the reins of their horses to slow them to a canter.
"The men on duty might ask to check for weapons, Milady. You have any on you?" Drake asked.
"I've a dagger. I keep it for protection." Gunilda said.
"You will need to relinquish it to the men at the portcullis. I cannot grant you a pass to bring that in. You understand?" Drake said, firmly.
"Of course." Gunilda nodded.
Nottingham entered into the cathedral with Nichol and was immediately greeted by his cousin, Lady Meridwyn, and Lady Isabelle, who waited for him before seating themselves.
The ladies looked remarkable. He was stunned by their transformation. Meridwyn wore a teal green brushed velvet gown with gold, white, and purple silk embroidery that decorated the neckline and hem of her sleeves. It had an empire waist to hide her growing belly. Her hair was in loose waves, with tiny braids encircling it. A ribbon was threaded through them to match her gown. Isabelle wore a deep pink velvet gown that had muted pink lace overlaying the bodice and sleeves. Her hair was up in an elaborate braid, with some falling loosely in soft curls at the back. She also had a ribbon matching her gown woven through the braid. Both had subtle colour added to their cheeks, eyelids, and lips, and their lashes appeared darker. Guy stood in the centre of them, dressed in shiny black leather. Behind them, the cathedral was filled with guests, and he spotted some of his men. Candles and torches were aglow, and tall arrangements of white roses, and white, pale blue, and yellow poppies, with baby's breath and greenery stood near the tall candelabrum.
"You ready, Cousin?" Guy asked.
"I am." he nodded.
"We didn't want to seat ourselves until we greeted you." Meridwyn explained.
"I appreciate that. You ladies look remarkable." he said, nodding to each of them.
"And, so we should after an entire night and morning of preparation." Isabelle said.
"Better you than me!" Nichol quipped.
"Indeed, Nic. But, you must admit the result is astonishing." he said.
"And, wait until you see your bride." Meridwyn winked at the Sheriff.
"Oh, I can imagine. She doesn't need any help to bring out her beauty, so this shall be a surprise, I'm sure." he smirked. He cleared his throat and looked to Gisborne. "Any trouble presented for us yet?"
"No. There's a number of your men positioned inside, at the ready should there be any problems."
"Good." the Sheriff nodded.
"Not sure what you're referring to, but, as you can see, I am armed." Nichol said, pointing to his sword.
"Perfect." he smirked.
"You speak as if you're expecting an attack of some sort? Funny. I don't recall any of the Knights being present and ready to defend us at our wedding, Guy?" Meridwyn pointed out.
"They were there, my dear. I just didn't point them out to you." Guy explained.
"Indeed." the Sheriff nodded.
"No. This is different. You are both acting like you're fully expecting an attack of some sort." a beat. "Should we be going ahead with this?" Meridwyn asked.
"What are you suggesting, Meridwyn? That I call off our wedding — now?" the Sheriff asked with a suspicious quirk of his brow.
"No. Of course, not. But, in light of new developments, perhaps it should take place somewhere else?"
"It's a little late for that. No. We're continuing with it as planned." he sighed.
"Is she right, Milord? Should I be worried?" Isabelle asked.
"Of, for crying out loud, Isabelle! He's going to officially be your brother in law in a matter of moments. Why must you insist on being so formal?" Meridwyn admonished in a whisper.
"Meridwyn!" Isabelle scorned, quietly.
"To answer your question, do not fret, Lady Isabelle. If anything should happen, myself, and all of my men are well prepared for it, I can assure you." the Sheriff said, attempting to assuage her.
"Very well." Isabelle sighed, softly.
"We best take our seats and get George up to the front. We don't want to be standing here when she arrives." Nichol said.
"Wait just a moment." the Sheriff said to them as he suddenly spotted some ladies seated in the back pew. He frowned. There was one present whom he was not expecting to see. This could present a problem.
"Very well. Do make it fast, though, friend." Nichol advised him.
Nottingham nodded and walked to the pew at the back. Right at the end near the centre aisle, Madam Oberon was seated.
He leaned down toward her and spoke, softly.
"Thank you for coming, Lady Arianna. It's good to see you here." he smiled.
"Oh, mon Seigneur Sheriff!" Madam Oberon whispered with a smile. "I'm pleased to be invited. Mademoiselle Rhiannon insisted I bring my daughter. You remember Marie?" she asked, nodding beside her.
"Of course, Lady Arianna." he nodded, then smiled at the girl.
"Bonjour." Marie whispered.
"And… Floria? What are you doing here?" he asked.
"I was invite — "
"She is my… how you say? Guest." Marie said, simply.
"Ah. How convenient for you, Floria." Nottingham sighed.
"My daughter and Floria have become friends, mon Seigneur Sheriff. My apologies if this arrangement doesn't meet with your approval." Madam Oberon frowned.
"No, Lady Arianna. It's fine." he said.
He knew there was no way the Seamstress could have possibly known that her new assistant could be a potential distraction for one of his top three men.
Then, the Sheriff followed along behind the pew and positioned himself directly behind Floria. He leaned down and whispered into her ear.
"I need his full, undivided attention. Do keep that in mind." he warned.
"Yes, Milord." Floria nodded in obeisance to him.
He rejoined Nichol, Guy, and the ladies.
"We must take our places. It is almost time." Nichol pointed out.
They all agreed and walked to their seats in the front row. Nottingham took his place at the front and stood before the Bishop.
Seated at the same pew as the seamstress, but much further down was Father Tuttle and Celestria.
"I still don't understand why you insisted on accompanying me, Celest." Father Tuttle whispered. "And, what about that report of yours of a lightning bolt destroying a tree on the property of where you've been staying? There's been no lightning seen all day?"
"I have good reason for being here, Father — "
"You should accept my offer of sanctuary!" he whispered, firmly.
"And, I don't know what more to say about the lightning. It frightened me half to death! It split the tree directly in front of me -- in two!" she whispered urgently, ignoring his comment.
"Mayhaps, it was your sign from the heavens that you shouldn't have come, child." Father Tuttle sighed.
"And, I don't understand your reason for being here?" Celestria whispered.
"You shall see. And, when you do, I strongly suggest you keep your head low with the hood of your cape pulled up. He mustn't see you!"
"I know, Father. My hood is up. I will." she whispered.
Just then, Officer Drake and Lady Gunilda made a very quiet entrance. They quickly found a space in the back pew, opposite to the one where Celestria was seated. Drake took a quick glance around to see if he could spot Celestria in the crowd, but he was unable to see her. He sighed, frustrated that he couldn't find her on the way to the castle.
A few moments later, Lady Rhiannon appeared at the door holding the arm of her brother. They stood a moment before beginning their walk, taking in the sight before them.
"Oh, my." Rhiannon whispered.
"Are you alright, Sis?" Robert asked, softly.
"Yes. Just… overwhelmed. I'm glad you're here, Brother." she smiled.
"She is here, Milord. It's time to turn and face your bride." the Bishop whispered.
Nottingham took in a breath and nodded, then he slowly turned around as the haunting voice of a young woman who was positioned in a balcony above them began to fill the cathedral in perfect a cappella:
"The songs they'll sing all through the years,
Of how we lived, and loved, my dear;
An endless flame,
Our love, unchanged."
Lady Rhiannon began to slowly walk toward him the moment the vocalist began to sing, never breaking eye contact with her betrothed, as she held steadfastly to her brother's arm.
The Sheriff softly gasped when he saw her. At first, her gown was covered in an elegant heavy white satin cape, with pure white ostrich feathers decorating the ends of the sleeves and around the large hood. Robert gently removed it from her, and Madam Oberon quietly came to their side to take it from him.
Her gown was exquisite. The bodice and sleeves were chiffon covered in delicate white lace. The neckline was straight across the bust with a two inch wide ribbon sewn across the top of it in colours of white, bright blue, gold, and black, incorporating the colours of both of their family crests. The skirt was full in shimmering white satin. A long, unique train of white chiffon was affixed to her shoulders and travelled all the way down her back and softly followed on the floor behind her, like a cloud.
He smiled as he looked into her eyes while she slowly made her way down the aisle toward him. The haunting vocals of the singer melodiously filled the air, causing Rhiannon's sisters in law to dab the corners of their eyes with their handkerchiefs:
"I see my future in your eyes,
Embraced in peace, as the moon draws nigh;
An endless flame,
Our love, unchanged.
When tides do turn, and darkness nears,
The skies unleashing endless tears;
I'll be your flame, dear,
My love, unchanged, dear."
Suddenly, she stood before him. He couldn't take his eyes from her. Her hair was fashioned up in an elegant loose braid and rolls. Her diamond combs were in place in her shimmering hair, and some white roses, and a couple of pale blue poppies were inserted in the braid and the rolls along with a thin pale blue ribbon woven through the braid. Loose tendrils framed her face and shined by the light caught in her delicate diamond earrings.
"My lady." the Sheriff whispered with a smile of longing.
She sighed happily and looked into his eyes, smiling back at him.
The Bishop cleared his throat and spoke.
"Who gives this lady to His Lordship in holy matrimony?" he asked.
"I do, Your Grace. I am her brother." Robert nodded.
Robert lowered his arm that she had been holding, then squeezed her hand and softly kissed her cheek. Then, he left them and took his place beside his wife.
"If anyone here knows of any reason why this couple should not be wed, speak now, or forever hold your peace." the Bishop announced.
"Keep your head lowered and that hood up, Celest. Now!" Father Tuttle whispered, urgently. Then he stood from his seat.
"I have an objection!" Father Tuttle called out.
At this point, four other men stood up, scattered throughout the cathedral, in solidarity with the Priest.
The Sheriff's men were also quick to respond, standing from their seats, their hands on the pommels of their swords.
"You've got to be bloody well joking!" Nottingham muttered, as he turned around to face the man who had the gall to stop the ceremony.
"George, what is it, my love?" Rhiannon whispered, as she turned and grabbed his hand.
"What is your objection?" Bishop of Hereford called out.
"And, who the bleeding hell are you?" Nottingham demanded.
"Father Tuttle. I'm here to say that you two have been mocking holy matrimony for quite awhile. It's ludicrous this is being backed by the Bishop, and performed in a house of God!" Father Tuttle exclaimed as he looked to the couple.
"How dare you!" Rhiannon shouted.
"Oh, my." the Bishop muttered under his breath.
"Take a breath, my angel. Let me handle this obnoxious cretin." Nottingham whispered.
"Get him out of here, George. How did he get in here, anyway?" Rhiannon sighed.
"Leave it to me." he smirked.
The Sheriff let go of her hand then slowly walked down the aisle until he had a closer look at the Priest. He made sure to make eye contact with each of his men, giving them a nod. The men made their way to the four men who stood when the Priest spoke.
"Well, don't just stand there! Get over here and explain to me how you're here? Because my bride and I surely did not invite you, nor your… friends." Nottingham ordered him.
The Priest made his way out of the pew and stood in the aisle, just a few feet away from the Sheriff.
The Sheriff swiftly moved in and grabbed him. Duke Farnsworth was closest to them, and he rapidly responded to take over detaining the Priest from the Sheriff.
"Well, we have four of them, and their joke of a leader." Nottingham sneered.
"Indeed, Milord. We'll take care of them." the Captain said.
"What? What are you talking about?" Father Tuttle asked.
"We know all about you and the Christian Brotherhood. You brought four followers with you? Is that all you've got?" the Sheriff chuckled.
"There's more than those four who agree with me." Father Tuttle said.
"How misguided of them. Don't worry, we'll find them. Now, to the dungeon for you."
"What?" the Priest exclaimed, as he tried unsuccessfully to writhe out of the Captain's hold of him.
"Enjoy your stay." Nottingham seethed.
Duke Farnsworth began to take the Priest out of the cathedral, who loudly protested on the way out. The other four men were also removed by the Sheriff's three top men, and Adam.
The Sheriff sighed then walked back to the front of the cathedral where Rhiannon and the Bishop stood.
"They're part of a rebellion. Can we move on?" the Sheriff asked the Bishop.
"Of course, Milord." he said, softly. He cleared his throat and continued. "We are gathered here today to witness the joining of this man, and this lady in the bonds of holy matrimony." he addressed the congregation.
Then he looked to the bride and groom.
"We are ready to begin. Now, turn to face one another." he said.
The Sheriff and Lady Rhiannon turned toward each other, and grasped one another's hands.
The Bishop looked to the Sheriff.
"Milord Sheriff: Wilt thou have this woman to be thy wedded wife, wilt thou love her, and honour her, keep her and guard her, in health and in sickness, as a husband should a wife, and forsaking all others, cleave thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?" the Bishop asked.
"I will." Nottingham said, smiling at his lady.
Rhiannon smiled back at him, and sighed with happiness.
"And you, Lady Rhiannon." the Bishop began. "Wilt thou have this man to be thy wedded husband, wilt thou love him, and honour him, keep him and obey him, in health and in sickness, as a wife should a husband, and forsaking all others, cleave thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?"
"I absolutely will." Rhiannon smiled, as she looked deeply into the eyes of her soon to be husband.
"Now, Milord Sheriff, repeat these words after me." the Bishop said to him.
The Sheriff nodded while looking into Rhiannon's eyes.
"I, George of the House of Nottingham, Sheriff of Nottingham take thee Lady Rhiannon of the House of Wordsworth… " the Bishop directed.
"I, George of the House of Nottingham, Sheriff of Nottingham take thee Lady Rhiannon of the House of Wordsworth… "
The Bishop continued to lead him, and he followed his instruction as he looked to his bride:
"… to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness, and in health, till death do us part, if the holy church will ordain it; and thereto I plight thee my troth." Nottingham said.
Then, the Bishop went through the same formality with Lady Rhiannon. She took in a breath, and followed his lead.
Celestria sighed as she watched and listened to the exchanging of vows. She was feeling a bit sickened observing this farce. What was he doing? Why was he going through with this? How could he after the moments they shared? She thought. She was conveniently forgetting that he tried to poison her.
"… to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness, and in health, till death do us part, if the holy church will ordain it; and thereto I plight thee my troth." Rhiannon said, never breaking eye contact with her groom.
The Bishop spoke to those gathered in the cathedral. "What God has joined together, let no man put asunder." he looked to the Sheriff and Lady Rhiannon. "By the powers vested in me, I now pronounce you: man and wife." the Bishop smiled.
Nottingham stepped forward and kissed his bride. Then, he leaned in and whispered in her ear.
"If we didn't have an audience, I'd kiss you for a much longer time than that, my angel." he smiled.
"I know, sugar. Hold onto that thought for later." she whispered with a smirk.
"I now present to you, the Sheriff of Nottingham, and his wife, Lady Rhiannon Nottingham." the Bishop announced to the congregation.
Everyone gathered erupted into cheers and applause, as the Sheriff and his bride walked down the aisle as man and wife.
"That was lovely. That song as she walked down the aisle — hauntingly beautiful." Gunilda whispered to Drake.
"Indeed. Except for the slight interruption by the Priest and his pitiful showing of followers. Speaking of intruders, did you happen to notice your ward anywhere in sight?" Drake asked.
"No. I couldn't see her. There's so many guests, though." Gunilda sighed.
"I couldn't see her, either. If she is here, any guesses as to what her next move might be?"
"She would probably try to blend in with the guests. I imagine there shall be festivities continuing in the castle now, yes? If so, she will be there if she got past the portcullis."
"Yes, That is correct. The fete will be taking place in the Grand Hall. We will make our way there with the rest of the guests." Drake instructed.
"Good. I think that is best." she nodded.
"Here they come. The Sheriff and his bride are drawing closer. Keep your head low. I will make our presence known to him, but not right now." Drake said.
Gunilda nodded. They both kept their heads down as the Sheriff and Lady Rhiannon walked down the aisle toward them to make their exit from the cathedral.
Madam Oberon was waiting for Lady Rhiannon near the doors, holding the white satin cloak. The Sheriff took it and placed it on his bride.
Bells were chiming to mark the occasion, and a carriage awaited them just outside the doors of the cathedral.
"I know it's a close enough distance to walk, but you endured a lot to look the way you do, my lady. The rain would ruin your gown, among other things." Nottingham smirked.
"It's perfect. Normally I'd tell you I don't mind the rain, but, you're right. Besides, it will be one of the few times today we'll be left in peace." a beat. "Tell the driver to proceed slowly, would you?" Rhiannon asked.
"Indeed. I like the way you think." he smirked as he extended his hand out to her.
Rhiannon took it as he helped her up the steps into the carriage. He followed her, and took a seat beside her, putting his arm around her. He called out to the driver, and soon the horses began to pull them along.
"Rhiannon, I'm mesmerized. I've seen you in all manner of situations, and, even at your worst, you were always beautiful; but… you look like a conjured vision of an actual angel. I've never seen you more radiant." Nottingham said, softly.
"Thank you, my love. I'd say the same of you. You've never looked more handsome, and I'd never believe that was possible." she said as she leaned into him.
"You're finally mine. Officially, my wife." he smiled as he kissed the top of her head.
"Yes, it's a little surreal. We endured much to get to this moment, my love."
"Indeed." he sighed.
"Happy Birthday, George." she whispered, as she softly kissed his cheek.
"Thank you, Rhiannon. You're the best gift I've ever received."
"Now, we just have to get through the rest of this day. I hate to say it, but I'm looking forward to the part where everyone goes to bed." Rhiannon sighed.
"You're not looking forward to the fete, my lady?"
"Well, yes. Parts of it. I'm looking forward to dining with our family, a little music and dancing; but, I'm very much looking forward to being able to breathe in a sigh that it's over, and just… relax with my handsome husband." she smirked as she looked up into his eyes.
The Sheriff gazed into her eyes and held her face with his hand.
"I don't know how I got so lucky. I never deserved it." he whispered.
"It's not for you to decide what you do, or don't deserve, sugar. I feel quite fortunate to have you, too. So, there's that." she said.
The Sheriff leaned in and kissed her lips softly, yet hungrily as he held her close to him.
"I can't wait to ravish you later, Lady." he growled.
"Good. I want it, too, my love. There's still the rest of the day to get through. We… already had an intrusion at the beginning of the ceremony. How dare those fools put a blight on our wedding! And now… well, did you look for her as we were leaving the cathedral?"
"I did, Rhiannon. I didn't see her." he said.
"I had a quick look around, too. Same result for me. Do you think she could still show up, George?" Rhiannon whispered.
"It's doubtful, my angel. All of my men are on high alert for her. Drake is the first line of defence. He has orders to detain and arrest her if she tries to sneak out of Gunilda's cottage. The men at the portcullis were warned to watch for her, too. Everyone permitted entry was checked for weapons, and only invited guests were granted entry." a beat. "Just relax and enjoy the day, my lady. This is our day." he soothed.
"You're right." she smiled.
A short time later, after stepping out on the balcony to wave to the townspeople who had gathered, they arrived to the Grand Hall for the feast and fete to begin. The room was aglow with the light of several torches, and candles burning in iron candelabrum placed throughout. Several flower arrangements identical to the ones in the cathedral decorated the room and filled it with a pleasing fragrance.
The Sheriff and Lady Rhiannon greeted their guests, then made their way to the head table. Guy sat beside the Sheriff on his left, with Lady Meridwyn to Guy's left. Rhiannon was seated to the right of her husband, with Robert to her right, and Isabelle to the right of Robert.
A group of jugglers were entertaining everyone in the centre of the floor as servants began to bring wine and spirits to everyone gathered.
"How long is this going to go on?" Rhiannon asked him as she took a sip of wine from her goblet, and nodded to the jugglers.
"Hopefully, not too long, my lady." he said.
"That was quite a surprise, seeing you in that white satin cape, Rhi." Meridwyn said.
"Indeed. I didn't know about it until Madam Oberon presented it to me just before leaving her chambers. She said it would match my gown better." Rhiannon smiled.
"Very kind of her, dearest. You looked like you stepped out of a dream." Isabelle added.
"Indeed, she did." Nottingham smirked.
The Sheriff's top men as well as other select members of the Black Knights were scattered throughout the room. Luke was standing with his back against the wall, when a familiar voice startled him.
"I was hoping I'd see you here, Luke." she whispered.
Luke turned to his left to respond to her.
"Floria! What are you doing here?" Luke asked in a whisper.
He was surprised, but also stunned by her manner of dress. She looked just as lovely and poised as the three official ladies of the castle; and he knew it was her own design. Luke resisted the sudden urge to lick his lips as he took in the sight of her.
Floria wore a deep blue velvet gown. It had a low neckline but a high winged collar lined in gold satin. The flounce on the ends of her sleeves were lined the same, and she carried a matching drawstring bag.
"Well… that wasn't the reaction I was hoping for." Floria pouted.
Luke grabbed her hand and took her behind a large column nearby.
"Of course, I'm happy to see you. You look… unbelievably ravishing. It's just… it's unexpected, and I'm working, my dear." Luke whispered.
"I know. I can see that. Lady Rhiannon's Wardrobe Mistress was invited. She's the one I was hired to assist, as you know. Madam Oberon's daughter was also invited, and her daughter asked me to be her guest. Isn't that… convenient?" Floria smirked.
"It is. It would be more convenient if I could share a drink and a dance with you, but… it shall have to wait. If we don't get the opportunity to dance just once, I might go mad. You are… beautiful, Floria." he sighed.
"Thank you. I'm pleased you noticed." she blushed. "But, we can't risk his ire, Luke. It's his wedding day, after all." Floria said.
"Come to my chambers tonight, my dear. You can get away, yes?"
"Of course, Luke. I will."
"Once this wraps up, and everyone disperses, I want to see you in my chambers. We won't be interrupted. The medicus is finally satisfied with my recovery. And, our employer will be kept busy." Luke said with a knowing smirk.
"Good. I'll be there, Luke." Floria smiled.
He took her hand and kissed it, then she made her way back to the table where Madam Oberon and Marie were seated.
After the jugglers finished and were met with applause from the guests, the Sheriff stood at the table.
"Welcome, everyone! His Royal Highness, Prince John; Lords, and their Ladies; invited guests. We thank you for coming and helping us celebrate this occasion. There shall be plenty of entertainment, feasting, and drinking. Enjoy!" he called out to them.
The room erupted into cheers and applause for the Sheriff and his bride. When the cheering began to fade out, he spoke again.
"The Medley Minstrels will now entertain us with their music." he announced as he gestured to the three brothers. They nodded and took their places in the centre of the room and began to play.
Soon after the Medley Brothers began playing, the servants, along with Jean Louis brought out several trays of food. There was a soup starter, then roasted peacock brought to every table, roasted potatoes and various vegetables, mini venison pies as per the bride's request, freshly baked bread, an assortment of cheeses, and plenty of spirits were being poured.
Some mimes joined the minstrels in the centre of the room to entertain as they began feasting. Lady Rhiannon mindlessly sipped of her wine, as she tried to unobtrusively look around the room.
"I'm glad that you requested the venison pies, Rhiannon. I could eat a whole tray of them!" Meridwyn smiled as she took a bite of one from her fork.
"Of course. One taste of those and I knew we needed to add them to the menu." Rhiannon agreed.
"The food is delicious." Guy smiled as he washed down the roasted peacock with a generous swill of wine.
"You're not eating much, Sis. Are you alright?" Robert asked.
"Are you in pain, dearest? I'll go and retrieve your opium if you need it." Isabelle offered in a whisper.
"I'm fine. I guess I'm just too wound up from all of the excitement." she shrugged. Then she went back to scanning the room, looking out for the notorious consort who planned to intrude on the festivities.
"Is that true, my lady?" the Sheriff whispered. "What are you looking at? Are the mimes that enthralling?" he grinned.
"I'm not watching them, George. I'm sure you can guess what — or whom I'm looking for." she whispered.
"Surely you can see my men at various places in the room, on guard and at the ready? It will be alright, my angel. Fortify yourself." he said.
"I shall try." Rhiannon sighed. She stabbed a piece of roasted peacock with her fork and took a bite.
He smiled at her as he took a sip of wine from his goblet. Then he looked back to his guests, and his men. Ancel was closest to him. He made eye contact with him and nodded for him to come to him.
Ancel arrived to the table in moments. The Sheriff excused himself from the table, telling his family he'd rejoin them shortly. He arose from his seat and nodded for Ancel to follow him. The Sheriff chose a spot well away from everyone and behind a column. He stood, waiting to speak to him.
Ancel was there in moments.
"Yes, Milord. Has something come up?" Ancel asked.
"Has anyone done a walk through of the second floor to make sure there are no intruders lurking about?" the Sheriff asked. He couldn't help but think of his cousin's wedding, when Lady Marian managed to sneak to the second floor and went directly to his private chambers.
"I don't think anyone has. None of the men have mentioned it, so I would guess the answer is a firm no."
"Then you shall do it, Ancel. I think we got all of the brotherhood cretins, but pay attention if you notice anyone suspicious. I also want to know if that consort is lurking somewhere up there. She could be in or around the private chambers. Have a quick look inside my chambers, see if you see her."
"Can you describe her, Milord? It might help."
"She's sort of medium height, dark brown hair, deep blue eyes." he said.
"Very well."
"Make sure you look under the bed, too. She's a crafty little bitch, that one." Nottingham sneered.
"Duly noted, Milord." Ancel smirked.
"And, check on Rebeccah, too. She might have seen her. I thought she'd be here. She was invited, but I have not seen her. Have you?"
"No, Milord. I haven't seen her in days. I don't think she wants to talk to me, quite frankly." Ancel sighed.
"Well, that will have to be too bad for her. We've a conniving consort with murderous intent, who stated she had plans to crash our celebration and hunt my lady down like prey." Nottingham said as his eyebrow shot north, knowingly.
"But, Drake is guarding that cottage, isn't he?"
"Indeed, but one can never be too cautious, Ancel."
"Very well. I will report back to you." Ancel nodded, then he left to carry out the task.
The Sheriff returned to the table and took his seat between his bride and his Lieutenant. He took a generous swill of wine from his goblet.
"Is everything in order, Cousin?" Guy asked him.
"Yes. Ancel is going to check the second floor for intruders. In particular — that conniving little bitch." he whispered.
"Good idea." Guy nodded.
"What are you two conspiring about? Can business not wait until the morrow?" Meridwyn asked them.
"That's what I'd like to know, too, Meridwyn." Rhiannon sighed. She looked to her husband. "What were you and Ancel talking about?"
"Nothing, my lady. Just making sure everything is in order." he said.
"And, is it?"
"Yes. There's nothing to worry about."
"Really? But, you had to take him away to find that out?" she pressed.
"Yes. It's our wedding feast, my lady. I didn't want to interrupt that with business talk."
The feasting continued, and everyone at the head table agreed the fare that was served was perfectly delicious. The servants came out at the end of it to clear the tables, then several desserts were brought out.
The Medley Brothers resumed playing after everyone was served dessert. The Sheriff recognized the tune immediately.
The harmonious voices of the brothers filled the room, with Milo performing lead vocals. They sang the first verse in harmonized a cappella before they played their instruments.
"The night, though dark, the stars did shine;
To guide the way of the maiden, divine,
The Knight, cloaked in black, upon his steed;
He blinked his eyes, and tasted mead… "
"Oh, isn't this a lovely tune? I don't think I've ever heard this one?" Meridwyn said softly to them.
"Yes. They sang this one last night for us. I asked them to perform it again today." Nottingham said as he took a bite of a lemon custard tart.
"I've heard it before. I quite like it." Robert said.
"It's beautiful." Rhiannon smiled as she turned her attention to the minstrels.
"Alas, in a vision, the mage appeared;
The messenger, veiled, yet the words were clear:
You can wield your sword, and count your gold,
But, power is nothing without a hand to hold." the minstrels sang.
"It's very catchy! It's… almost like they're singing about you, husband." Rhiannon remarked.
"What?" he asked, nearly choking on his wine.
"Yes. "The Knight, cloaked in black, upon his steed." That's you, George."
"Sure sounds like it." Guy added.
"Yes, but then they said the Knight blinked his eyes and tasted mead. I don't tend to drink mead, my lady. You know that."
"Of course, the Medley brothers wouldn't know that, George. They just needed to rhyme a word with steed." Rhiannon smirked.
"She does have a point there." Robert said.
The Sheriff sighed and took a sip of his wine.
When the minstrels got to the chorus, Rhiannon sang quietly along with them.
"You can wield your sword, and count your gold,
But, power is nothing without a hand to hold." Rhiannon sang, then began to giggle.
"How much wine have you drunk, my angel?" the Sheriff asked.
"Just a goblet… or two."
"I see. You may want to slow it down for awhile, Rhiannon." he suggested.
"I will… see what I can do." she smirked.
"Rhiannon!" he exclaimed in a whisper.
"It's our wedding feast. You going to make me stop drinking? Is this one of those times I'm meant to obey you? I knew I should have had that part omitted from my vows to you." Rhiannon huffed, then took another sip of wine from her goblet.
"There's a couple of reasons you should consider before finishing that goblet, Rhiannon. The first is we still need to maintain decorum, even though the feast and fete are for us. The second reason — which you'll probably put more stock in, is that you should have a clear head should we encounter a problem." he said quietly, with a knowing quirk of his brow.
"Oh. Right." she said as she set the goblet on the table. "You're right. I was trying to relax, but… perhaps that wasn't the best idea."
"Just pace yourself, my lady."
"Very well. If she's going to show I wish she'd just do it. Then we can be done with her, and I can go back to enjoying some wine on our wedding day." she sighed.
"I know, my lady. It's best we're fully prepared, however." he said, softly.
Ancel had just finished going through the Sheriff's private chambers. As requested, he even looked under the bed, and he checked the bath chamber, too. The rooms were clear. On his way out, he instructed the guard to lock the door again, then he went back to scouring every inch of the second floor. He found no one lurking. Lastly, he slowly made his way to Rebeccah's chambers. He paused a moment outside of her door before he knocked.
A few moments later, she opened it. She frowned when she saw whom was there to greet her.
"What are you doing here? I thought you'd be busy?"
"I am. I was tasked with checking the second floor for intruders. The Sheriff asked me to check on you, as well." Ancel said.
"Well, isn't that thoughtful of him?" she remarked, facetiously.
He noted that she was dressed in a plum coloured velvet gown, trimmed in ivory lace on the neckline and sleeves. Her shiny dark hair was up in an elegant chignon. It appeared she might be headed to the fete.
"You're missed at the wedding celebrations, Rebeccah. He noticed your absence. Shall I escort — "
"I was present at the ceremony. I skipped the rest because… " she let the words trail off and looked downcast.
"Because… what?" he asked.
"Because you're one of his supposed top men now, so… I knew you'd be there." Rebeccah said, simply.
"I see." Ancel sighed. "So, you're just going to avoid me forever now?"
"You best come inside if you plan to keep talking. Someone might see you here." Rebeccah said as she held the door for him.
"I was sent here, but, perhaps we should clear the air." Ancel said as he followed her inside.
She closed the door, then stood before him with her arms folded.
"You're angry." he said.
"You're the reason so much has happened, Aleyn. Curses! Ancel. I don't even know who you are! Who the hell is Aleyn, anyway?" she huffed in frustration.
"He was my brother." Ancel said, softly.
"I see. Regardless, you brought that friend of yours into town, and he's had it in for Lady Rhiannon from the start. You acted like you were courting me! But, all the while you were casing the place, gathering information, and reporting who knows what to… him. Meanwhile, your friend set that abandoned home on fire, with my lady and her sister in law inside of it. And, here you are, having somehow charmed the Sheriff, and been given the keys to the castle — in a manner of speaking." a beat. "And, isn't that convenient for you? What other games are you planning to try your hand at?" she demanded.
"There are no games, Rebeccah. And, you insult the Sheriff by insinuating that he can be easily charmed — as would a fool. He's as sharp as an arrowhead, and he is no fool. I endured several hours of group interrogation. He listened to what I had to say, and somehow was not just satisfied with it, but impressed. He believes in me and saw something that he decided would be useful to him as one of his men. I expected to be tossed in the dungeon. I'm just as surprised as you are." Ancel said, firmly.
"So, you admit your guilt, then?"
"No. Everything I've told you is true. I didn't expect him to believe a word I had to say to him, but I had to tell him."
"Why?"
"I've told you why. Lady Rhiannon was in danger. My former friend had a target on her back. The Sheriff needed to know." Ancel said, softly.
"Who am I supposed to believe? Aleyn? Or, Ancel?" Rebeccah asked, pointedly.
"I've always been Ancel. And, when you knew me by my alias, I was being real with you. But, that's up to you what you choose to believe now. I've said my piece. There is no game, Rebeccah. But, I think the thing to do now is to get you downstairs to the Grand Hall so that you can join in the fete. You are missed by the guests of honour. It's poor form that you're not there."
Rebeccah narrowed her eyes as she regarded him, stunned by his answer. Then, she sighed and shook her head.
"Is that a no, then?" Ancel asked.
"I want to believe you." she whispered.
"What?"
"You can't play with women's hearts, Ancel. You… don't know what they've already endured." she said softly, then looked downcast.
"I wasn't toying with you. I swear. But… what did you mean by that?" Ancel asked.
"I was… married once. A long time ago. I wasn't always someone's boring lady servant."
"Really? I don't think you mentioned this before?"
"Actually, I did. I mentioned I was a widow when we first met at the market. Then, I spoke a little more of it when you came to see me the following evening. When you brought me the flowers."
"Oh, right. I'd forgotten about that. Forgive me, Rebeccah."
"Of course." she nodded.
"It's strange. I remember well what you wore and how you looked. You wore a dark blue gown with a matching cape. Your hair was up, with loose curls framing your face. Bouncy little rings of curls. I recall all of that, yet I'd forgotten that part. I don't recall if it was mentioned again after that." Ancel said.
Rebeccah was quite stunned that he remembered those details of the first time they met. Even she had no memory of what she wore, or how she'd fashioned her hair.
"It's difficult to speak of. At one point, for a very brief time, I had it all. A good husband, a home, and we had a daughter." she said, softly.
"Wait… what? What happened, Rebeccah?"
"Our little girl… died in her cradle when she was five months old. A year after that, my husband passed away." Rebeccah said.
"I am sorry to hear that."
"Yes. Not nearly as sorry as I. I've endured quite a bit. I've been haunted since. I miss them every day. I resigned myself to the prospect of a life of solitary, only in service to others. Then, you took my heart… and broke it, when I finally believed joy could belong to me once again."
"Rebeccah." Ancel whispered. He moved in closer to her and put his hands upon her shoulders as he looked into her eyes.
"I don't know who you are, but I want you to be who you were when you stole my heart. Before you broke it." a beat. "Or, maybe it's not possible. Maybe I conjured you into this fantasy — of someone you cannot be? I don't know anymore… " Rebeccah whispered, and then she began to tremble as tears fell onto her cheeks. She rubbed them away with both hands and hung her head.
"Oh, Rebeccah. I did care. I still do. I never wanted to hurt you, my dear." he whispered as he embraced her.
It took her a couple of moments, and then she held him, too, and wept.
"It will be alright, Rebeccah. I'm still here for you. And, we're going to get that bastard — my former friend. It's no lie, what I told you since the Sheriff hired me. I was investigating him, not colluding with him. I don't expect you to believe it right now, but, perhaps in time, you shall see." he whispered.
"I'm tired of being disappointed and angry, Ancel. I missed… this. You holding me. I didn't realize I needed it until I had it, and then it was gone." Rebeccah whispered, still holding him fast.
"I've hurt you. Unintentionally, but I did. I will regret that for a long time." he said as he kissed the top of her head. Then he extricated himself from her embrace. "Let's get you composed, my dear. Perhaps you could splash some water on your face? You are missed downstairs. You should be there." he said.
"Very well. You're right. I was being childish staying away to avoid you." Rebeccah said as she pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of her skirt and dabbed at her eyes. "Now, what's this about intruders?"
"There's one in particular I was sent to look for. She's a former consort with a plan to crash the celebrations and… harm Lady Rhiannon."
"What?" Rebeccah asked, incredulously.
"I don't know the story behind it. I was just tasked to come upstairs and look for her, then to check on you and also ask if you'd seen her. Have you seen a strange woman lurking about? She, apparently, has dark hair and blue eyes." Ancel asked.
"No. I haven't seen her. Why would a consort — of all people, wish to inflict harm on my lady?"
"As I said, I don't know the story behind it, just that she's a problem."
"I see. Very well. I will let you escort me to the Grand Hall. Just give me a moment to compose myself."
"Of course, my dear." Ancel smiled.
"You said… you still care. Is that true?"
"Yes." he nodded.
"But… how would that work? Us, I mean? You're a Black Knight now. I'm just… a lady servant. It could never work." Rebeccah sighed as another tear spilled onto her cheek. She angrily wiped it away with her handkerchief.
"I'm not understanding what the problem would be? I don't care if you're a serving wench in the local tavern. It matters not to me. You mustn't worry about the semantics. I care for you. Just you, Rebeccah. That comes from my heart. Now, it's up to you to choose what to do with that information." he said.
"I see. I will have to think on that, Ancel." Rebeccah said. Then, she left him to go into her bedchamber to freshen up.
Celestria was hiding behind a large column far away from the head table, and closer to the doors. She kept the hood of her cape up, but she was careful not to get noticed. She was nearly seen a couple of times by the Sheriff's men, but she managed to escape their notice. Sometimes, she would glance at the head table. He didn't even look happy, in her opinion. He looked troubled. Why did you go through with it? You look miserable. She'll never make you happy like I will. I will fix this… soon.
Everyone was just finishing up with desserts, as the Minstrels continued playing.
The Sheriff reached over and grabbed his bride's hand.
"Feeling a little better, my angel?" he whispered.
"Not quite as exuberant since I stopped sipping the wine, but more like myself. I don't know if that's such a good thing, my love. I wish I wasn't… on edge." Rhiannon whispered.
"Try to put it out of your mind. It's doubtful she got past the guards at the portcullis — if she attempted to at all. She's not exactly the type to try climbing over the walls, either, so… she's probably not here." he said, quietly.
"You're right, George. It's our wedding day, and your birthday. I shall heed your advice."
"Good, my lady. See that you do."
At this time, the Medley Brothers finished playing the tune they were performing, and Milo Medley spoke.
"Can I have everyone's attention?" he shouted out to everyone in the large room.
The chattering of everyone gathered was brought down to a low simmer, and they turned their attention to the minstrels.
"Thank you. Good evening! Is everyone having a good time?" Milo called out.
The room erupted into cheers and applause. When the noise faded out he spoke again.
"We are pleased to be here to entertain you. I'm Milo Medley. These are my brothers, Timm, on the panflute, and Loris, on the psaltery." he said as he gestured to each of them at the mention of their names. "The next song we are going to play for you was not composed by any of us. This one is sure to be a hit, but we're only playing the music, at the request of the composer. We are going to debut this song for all of you to hear. This song is called "Dark Knight of the Dreamer", and it was composed by one of the honoured guests: the bride, Lady Rhiannon Nottingham." Milo smiled as he gestured toward her.
Everyone gathered began to cheer.
"What? Are you kidding me, Rhi? You can compose music?" Meridwyn exclaimed in a whisper.
"She learned to play the psaltery and the panflute when she was six." Robert smiled, proudly.
"And, we're just finding out about this now?" Guy asked.
"She's a woman of many talents. Just take a listen. Until now, the only ones who have heard it are myself, and the Medley brothers, and Milo Medley's wife when Rhiannon took the sheet music to him. Listen, and you will see how talented she is." the Sheriff smiled as he took a sip of his wine.
"Thank you, my love." Rhiannon whispered as she grasped his hand and looked to the minstrels.
"Let there be dancing!" Loris Medley called out, gleefully.
"I think that's our cue, George." Rhiannon said.
"Already? Alright, my angel." he said as he stood from his chair and extended his hand out to her.
She took it and stood from her chair to join him.
Milo counted down softly for his brothers, and then they began to play.
Celestria was stunned by the announcement, and took deep breaths to control the urge to retch. She stood at the large column peaking around it to observe this obscene spectacle. She shook her head and moved back in position, her back against the large column, unable to watch this farce any longer.
The Sheriff and his lady began to dance, their hands grasped as they began to move to and fro, impressing everyone in the room as it was obvious they had practiced. They moved in closer and Rhiannon began to sing to him, softly:
"Spare a thought for the lady;
Yearning for her knight;
She knows she needs him, though she is afraid;
She has only seen him in her mind."
Nottingham smiled as he stared into her eyes, then completely surprised her by moving in closer. He let go of her hands, grabbed her waist then lifted her off the floor and twirled her around. Her gown and the lovely watteau train made of chiffon circled around them, creating a spectacular sight of dreamy romanticism.
Lady Rhiannon began to laugh as she held onto his shoulders, and everyone gathered erupted into loud cheers, and a standing ovation for them.
Just then, Ancel was escorting Rebeccah into the room. They stood a moment to watch the Sheriff twirling his bride in the air for a dance.
"Oh my! Don't they look adorable, Ancel?" Rebeccah smiled.
"Indeed, they do, my dear. I guess… that's what true love looks like." Ancel said.
"Of course."
"We could look like that, too." Ancel murmured.
"What's that, Ancel?"
"We should get you some food, my dear. And, get you seated." Ancel said.
They were near the table Madam Oberon was seated at. She noticed them standing near the doors. She gestured for them to come to her.
"We've two chairs at this table, mes amis. I'm Arianna Oberon, Dame Rhiannon's Wardrobe Mistress and Seamstress." she smiled.
"I'm Rebeccah. I manage her manor. Did you… make her wedding gown?" Rebeccah asked.
"Indeed."
"It's beautifully crafted!"
"She also made the gowns for Lady Gisborne, and Lady Isabelle Wordsworth." Floria added.
"Oh, my! They're all stunning!" Rebeccah exclaimed.
"And, I believe she crafted the lovely gown she's wearing, as well." Floria smiled, nodding to the soft blue raw silk gown the Seamstress was wearing.
"Your gown is beautiful, too." Rebeccah smiled.
"Indeed." Ancel agreed.
"Merci, mon cher. Come. Sit. The bride composed this song you're hearing." Madam Oberon smiled.
"What?" they asked in unison, both of them stunned.
"Oui! That's what the leader of the minstrels announced before they began to play."
"Lovely!" Rebeccah smiled.
"I'll come back in awhile to check on my friend, Lady Oberon. I'm on duty, you see." Ancel said.
"Of course. She'll be in good hands with us." Madam Oberon smiled.
Ancel pulled out the chair for Rebeccah. After she was seated, he took her hand and kissed it softly.
"You'll see me again, my dear. And, later, I shall escort you back. Alright?"
"Yes. Thank you, Ancel." Rebeccah nodded.
"He's sweet on you, Miss. Seems like a good man." Floria commented after Ancel left them.
"Yes. That's what I'm hoping." Rebeccah said before they introduced themselves.
"Damn it. I might cry again. They are beautiful. They look so happy!" Meridwyn smiled as she sniffed.
"As happy as us, my dearest heart." Guy smiled as he squeezed her hand.
"And you, husband! Keeping Rhiannon's musicality a secret from us. It's such a lovely song. She never once mentioned she could play instruments, or compose music." Isabelle said to her husband.
"It probably just never came up. She's been too busy with other hobbies — like, perfecting her skills with a bow." Robert smirked.
"She seems to have mastered many things." Guy added.
"Well, I can think of one thing she's not good at." Robert hinted.
"What's that?" Guy, Meridwyn, and Isabelle all asked in unison.
"Don't ever ask her to cook for you." Robert chuckled.
Nottingham smiled as he gently set her down. They managed to dance their way closer to the minstrels. He looked to Milo as he moved in closer.
"Do encourage others to join us, Milo. I'm starting to feel like a show pony." the Sheriff whispered.
"Of course, Milord Sheriff." Milo said, softly.
He continued playing as he called out to the guests.
"I think our honoured guests would like some company on the dance floor. Everyone, make merry!" Milo called out.
With that announcement, the floor soon filled with guests joining the Sheriff and his bride in dancing to Lady Rhiannon's song for her husband. As the floor began to fill with guests, they weren't paying as much attention to the bride and groom anymore. The Sheriff pulled his bride in closer to him, and she sang softly into his ear:
"Spare a thought for your lady,
Dark Knight of the dreamer;
She's knows you exist somewhere;
She is yours, but you have yet to meet her."
"Perhaps you should change that lyric at the end to, "She is yours, and you need her."… or something." Nottingham smirked.
"I'll think about it. It's not like I plan to go public with the lyrics. Only you know them. Even when I played it with Milo, he and his wife, Lin, only heard the music. It's… too personal, my sweet. The lyrics are only meant for you." Rhiannon explained.
"I'm the luckiest man in the land today, my lady." he whispered as he softly kissed her cheek.
"Then, I guess we both feel lucky, my love." she beamed at him.
The music stopped and everyone erupted into cheers and applause, with some even calling out Lady Rhiannon's name.
"George, I'm just going to have a quick word with Milo and his brothers to thank them for giving such a marvellous performance of my song." Rhiannon smiled.
"Very well. You do that, and I'll make my way back to you at the table." he smiled as he kissed her hand.
He was planning to visit the table where Nichol and Prince John were seated, but as he scanned the room, he suddenly noticed Drake at the back, seated at a table close to the doors. Oddly, Gunilda was seated beside him. He shook his head and sighed, then headed in their direction.
"Oh, no. He's just spotted us, Milady. I wanted to get to him before he saw us first." Drake said.
"I'm sure he'll be understanding, Drake. If not, I'll make him understand. Especially, since we just did a quick search of the main floor looking for the brat." Gunilda said.
"Will he understand? Or, will he, naturally, assume I failed him?"
"It's not a fail if you're still in pursuit of her."
"Ha! You don't know the Sheriff very well, I see." Drake whispered, keeping his eyes on the Sheriff who was fast approaching them.
"You'd be surprised." Gunilda said, softly.
Drake looked at her curiously, with his eyebrow raised over his brown eyes as the Sheriff drew closer.
The Sheriff positioned himself directly beside them.
"Imagine my surprise seeing you two here?" he commented facetiously, with a knowing quirk of his brow.
"Of course, Milord. We are here to look for — " Drake was interrupted.
"I figured that, Drake. Come. I need to speak to you both privately."
They both stood from their seats. The music resumed as the Sheriff led them just outside the doors of the Grand Hall.
Once the doors were closed and they were safely in the corridor with no one around, he spoke.
"Right. Do you mind telling me how the hell you could possibly let her get away? You were sent there to mind the bitch, and to guard Lady Gunilda, Drake." the Sheriff growled.
"She slipped past — " Drake started to say, but was interrupted once again.
"It's not his fault, Milord. I thought she was sleeping. I'd given her a tea infused with Devil's root. When I checked on her, she was asleep, or, so I thought. Within moments of that, I went to the door to report this to Officer Drake. Seconds later, I saw her get away. She obviously only pretended to drink the tea." Gunilda sighed.
"I went after her immediately, Milord, but she was gone. I've no idea how, because she left on foot. So, we came here. I tried to deter Lady Gunilda from coming, but — "
"I insisted." Gunilda added.
"Naturally. And, have you seen her?" he asked them both.
"No, Milord Sheriff. Not as yet. We just did a walk through of the main floor before you saw us." Drake said.
"Gilda, could you give me a few moments with my Knight?" the Sheriff asked.
"Of course. There's a bench across the way. I'll wait there." Gunilda nodded.
He nodded and waited for her to give them some space before continuing.
"Who is on duty at the portcullis, Drake?"
"Castor, Emory, and Beric, Milord."
"They were given implicit instructions to be on the lookout for her. They were also supposed to be checking for weapons."
"They did, Milord. Lady Gunilda relinquished her dagger to them. I also questioned them at the time we came through, and since then. They do not recall seeing her."
"She's lurking somewhere. I'm sure of it." Nottingham seethed. "It's unfortunate you couldn't persuade Lady Gunilda to stay back."
"She insisted, Milord. There was no stopping her." Drake frowned as he exhaled a sigh and looked downcast.
"What is it, Drake? There's something you're not telling me." the Sheriff pressed.
"I'm not sure how to tell you this, Milord?" Drake parried.
"Tell me!" he urged him.
"This is going to sound like pure madness. And, I assure you, I am not mad." Drake hinted in a whisper.
"Go on."
"Milord, I think Lady Gunilda has… some kind of… strange powers." Drake whispered.
"What would make you say that, Drake?" he asked curiously, with a quirk of his brow.
"When she spotted the consort running away from the cottage, Lady Gunilda moved away from me, her back to me, and stood a moment. She had an outstretched hand, and she was whispering something, but I couldn't make out the words. Within moments of that, a lightning bolt touched down on an oak tree, splitting it into two, about thirty feet ahead of the consort." a beat. "Swear to the Gods above, that is what I saw. I've… never seen anything like that in my life." Drake shuddered.
"Hmm. Interesting." the Sheriff mused.
"You… uhh… don't find that a bit unsettling, Milord?"
"I know there exists such a power. I've just never seen it. This bears further investigation, Drake. Let's continue our chat with Lady Gunilda." Nottingham said.
He nodded for Drake to follow him as he approached Gunilda who was seated on the bench across from where they stood in the large corridor.
"Before I permit you and Drake to continue on your… unlikely mission, let's go to my office, Gilda. I'd suggest the Council Quarters, but, we'll be afforded more privacy there." the Sheriff said.
"Is this really necessary, Milord? We're wasting time." Gunilda sighed as she stood from the bench to face him.
"Yes. Don't worry. Drake will be joining us, too. We've a few things to sort out before we get back to the matter at hand: the capture of the murderous whore you've been tending to and sheltering." he said with a knowing quirk of his brow.
"Very well." she sighed.
Lady Rhiannon was making merry on the dance floor with her sisters in law. They were holding hands and laughing as they did their own little dance to a jaunty, uptempo number that the Medley Brothers were currently playing. The tune had a good response as the dance floor was so filled with guests, that nobody noticed the ladies were ignoring everyone else and only sticking to themselves.
"I still can't believe that song you wrote, Rhiannon. It was beautiful!" Meridwyn smiled.
"Thank you, Meridwyn." Rhiannon said.
"She's right, Sister. You amazed us all. Quite sublime! In fact, all of the music has been grand." Isabelle added.
"And, that song when you walked down the aisle, Rhi! I almost turned into a puddle right then and there. That was perfect!" Meridwyn exclaimed.
"Yes, she sang it beautifully. Thank you, ladies." she smiled.
"It was nice to see you and Milord dancing, too, Rhiannon. It appeared you both had rehearsed that?" Isabelle asked.
"Indeed. We did, Isabelle." Rhiannon smiled.
"I hope we'll see a repeat performance of that. I thought you two would be dancing a little more. You looked so at ease, as if you two had been dancing like that for… always!" Meridwyn exclaimed, gleefully.
"I'm sure I can coax him to dance again." Rhiannon said as she took a second to glance around the room. "Of course, I would need to find him first." she sighed.
"What? Where would he go?" Meridwyn asked as they continued to move two steps forward then two back, hands still clasped and facing each other in a circle.
"He's probably just mingling. He won't be long, I'm sure." Rhiannon said, more in an attempt to convince herself than her sisters in law.
The Sheriff stood in his office with Drake and Lady Gunilda to continue their brief discussion.
"Drake tells me you two just completed a search of the main floor." the Sheriff began.
"Yes. We didn't see her, but she is somewhere here in the vicinity." Gunilda said, confidently.
"Because, let me guess: you can smell her." he flatly replied.
"I can, Milord. I sense her desperation. She is beyond reason."
"Interesting perception you have. And… powers. Am I right?" the Sheriff asked, pointedly.
"Milord?" Gunilda asked.
"Are you, or, are you not capable of wielding certain powers?" the Sheriff asked, directly.
"Powers?" Gunilda asked, nervously.
"You know exactly what I mean. Come on. Out with it! Do you possess magickal powers?"
"Must we announce my… differences to an audience, Milord?" Gunilda sighed.
"Gilda!" he urged her, impatiently.
"Alright. Yes. I try to keep that under wraps along with… other things, but — "
"Right. So secretive about it you conjured a lightning bolt right in front of Drake!" the Sheriff scoffed.
Drake stood there staring at the both of them during this exchange with his jaw slightly agape. He didn't know if her confirmation of his suspicion was fascinating, or frightening to him. He also wondered about the nickname the Sheriff used for her, as if he were quite familiar with her?
"I used it in a last ditch effort to deter her. Unfortunately, it scared her for just a moment, but it didn't stop her." Gunilda said.
"Show me." Nottingham said.
"Excuse me?"
"Show me an example of the magick in you, right now. With myself and Drake as witnesses." he directed her.
She sighed and pondered this a moment. Then, she slowly shook her head.
"Very well. Both of you stand back. Closer to the door." Gunilda instructed them.
The men looked at her curiously, but obeyed, notwithstanding.
She stood in the centre of the room with her back to them, facing his desk, and closed her eyes a few moments, raising her hands out in front of her. She whispered a few words under her breath that they couldn't hear, then waved her hands around. Suddenly, several cooing white doves appeared, flying near the desk and by the window. Some were perched upon the desk.
The Sheriff and Drake both exhibited shock at the scene before them. They were speechless. Their jaws fell agape, as they took in the surreal sight before them. The Sheriff slowly moved forward, his jaw still slightly agape. He tilted his head and stared at the sight, in awe of what he was witnessing.
They only had less than a minute to behold this sight, and then Lady Gunilda waved her outstretched hands again, with a flick of both of her wrists, and the doves disappeared right before their eyes in an enchanting puff of pure white mist.
"The fuck did… I just watch?" Drake muttered, completely astonished.
"Magick. That was power, Drake." the Sheriff smirked. Then he looked to Gunilda. "How often do you use such power?" he asked the comely witch.
"Not often. But, it comes in handy from time to time. I had hoped the lightning would scare Celestria to the point of returning to the cottage, but, no such luck." Gunilda sighed.
"I guess this explains why you weren't fussed at all when I warned you you'd need to give up your dagger at the portcullis." Drake sighed as he folded his arms.
"I can make do without a weapon, but I prefer to keep it on me, because, as I've said, I don't use my powers too often." Gunilda explained.
"And, you're sure you're not in on whatever her plan is?" the Sheriff asked with his eyes narrowed.
"I can assure you, I am not, Milord. I insisted on coming with Drake to help in whatever way I can to stop her."
"Good. I'm sure you understand the consequences if you're, in fact, lying to me?"
"Of course, Milord." Gunilda nodded.
"Then, I'll let you two get back to your mission. I'm sure you've noticed there are other men positioned at various locations in the Grand Hall, Drake. Enlist their help if you need them."
"Noted, Milord." Drake nodded.
"What if she somehow changed her mind, and returned to your cottage, Lady Gunilda?" he asked.
"Then I would send word to you, Milord." Gunilda said.
"If you're going to be my espial we shall need to meet in person."
Drake curiously quirked his brow at the Sheriff's comment. He hadn't yet revealed to anyone, to Drake's knowledge, whom he might be considering for the role of spy.
"That is true in most instances, but, it doesn't have to be that way all of the time." Gunilda hinted.
"A missive can be easily intercepted." Nottingham pointed out.
"True, except no one could read the ones I'd be sending to you."
"Why? Is there a code I need to learn?"
"No. Not at all. Not with the ink I'll be using." Gunilda said.
"Well? Do enlighten me."
"I'll be using alum ink, Milord. It is invisible. You would only be able to read the missive if you hold it near to a heat source." she smiled.
"Brilliant, Gilda!"
Lady Gunilda nodded.
The Sheriff suddenly remembered what Mortianna said to him just hours ago.
"… there is either a mage, or a powerful witch present… " he could hear the crone's voice reporting this to him.
Gunilda must be the powerful witch Mortianna was speaking of. Or, is she, in fact, a mage? Indeed. She just conjured a flock of doves, then made them vanish!
"And, if you found her here tonight before I was alerted to it, would you use your powers on her? Perhaps to… vaporize her, or… something?" the Sheriff asked.
"I don't use them to harm people, Milord. I consider the ability more of a curse than a blessing, especially in these times. That's why I don't use them often. I could use them to immobilize her, though. Without drawing attention to myself." Gunilda suggested.
"That would work perfectly. If an opportunity like that arises, do it." he instructed.
"Very well, Milord." Gunilda agreed.
"Good." he nodded. Then he addressed his Knight. "Oh, and Drake?"
"Yes, Milord?"
"I'm sure I don't need to remind you that what you've seen here, and the discussion we just had about communication between Lady Gunilda and myself, once she is formally hired as espial — is to remain private?" he said with a knowing quirk of his brow.
"Of course, Milord." Drake agreed.
"You cannot tell a single soul about Lady Gunilda's powers. Not your mates. Not your mother. Nobody. Got it?"
"Indeed, Milord. I understand how sensitive this information is. I would never wish to bring harm to Lady Gunilda." Drake nodded.
Gunilda looked to the floor and smiled.
"Indeed. Because, if you divulged this, you know that is exactly what would happen." he said, firmly.
"Indeed, Milord. You have my word." Drake said.
"Good. You two resume your task. Keep me apprised."
"Indeed, Milord. We're going to take a look out on the grounds now, to see if we can find her." Drake said.
"If that turns up nothing, have another thorough look where the fete is taking place. She might be hiding in plain sight in the Grand Hall. I'll be observant for her, too." the Sheriff instructed.
"Ah! I finally have a moment to come to you and extend my personal congratulations, my dear. You look ravishing, I dare say, Lady Rhiannon!" Prince John exclaimed as he stood at the table in front of the bride, leaning down a little too closely for her liking.
"I thank you, Your Highness. I do hope you're enjoying yourself?" Rhiannon smiled through gritted teeth.
"Of course, my dear. It's a jolly good party! Where's Georgie, by the way? I don't see him?" the Prince asked drunkenly, as he paused to look around the room.
"He will return momentarily. I'm sure." Rhiannon said, dearly hoping that he would return swiftly to rescue her from this importunate deviant masquerading as a Prince.
"Let us dance until he returns, Lady Rhiannon." Prince John suggested.
"Dance? You mean… you… and I?" she swallowed.
"That's generally what that phrase means. Yes!" he chuckled.
"My next dance is promised to my husband. Thank you, anyway." Rhiannon nodded.
Meridwyn and Isabelle looked to their laps and began to giggle. Robert and Guy exchanged knowing smirks with one another.
"Right. Perhaps later, then, my dear?"
"Perhaps." she nodded, knowing full well she would never indulge him in this.
"There are some ladies on the guest list who are not betrothed, or wed, Your Highness. There's plenty for you to choose from to dance with." Guy chimed in.
"I couldn't give a rat's fart if they're spoken for, or not. If I see something I like, I'm taking it!" the Prince winked as he laughed.
"Charming." Rhiannon muttered, softly.
"Of course, Your Highness." Guy nodded.
"Very good. I'll come back to give my personal regards to George when he is available." the Prince added before he took leave of them.
"Well, I see the low end variety of wine he favours is doing its job." Robert quipped.
"Indeed. Look at him." Guy said to Robert while nodding toward the dance floor. "Looks like he's already moved on with some unsuspecting maidens." Guy scoffed.
"What did I miss?" the Sheriff asked, startling them, as they didn't see, or hear his approach.
"I'd say you're just in time, but, you're a few moments late, husband." Rhiannon sighed.
"You handled it perfectly, Sis." Robert smiled.
"Indeed. She did." Guy agreed.
"Handled… what, perfectly?" he asked.
"Just… a drunken Prince, behaving in his usual importune manner." Rhiannon frowned.
"Forgive me, my angel. I… had a little business to attend to. He seems preoccupied at the moment, though. He won't be a problem." he said as he nodded in the direction of the Prince.
"I'm sure, my sweet. Not unless… he keeps imbibing." a beat. "Saints help us." she sighed.
"Now, I need a couple of moments with my Lieutenant and my Advisor." Nottingham said as he addressed the ladies collectively.
"Oh, for crying out loud! It's your bleeding wedding day, George!" Meridwyn admonished in a whisper. "Can you not just calm down for one cursed day?"
Rhiannon was planning to add a comment, but was too busy trying to control her giggling to speak.
"The matter is important, Meridwyn. And, no. I cannot calm down — as you so eloquently put it. I wasn't making a request. I was giving you notice that you'd have to cope without your husband for a few brief moments. Understood?" he said, firmly.
"Got it." Meridwyn sighed.
He nodded for the men to follow him.
As Ancel was standing guard in a corner, looking around the room for anyone acting suspiciously, he was startled by a familiar voice.
"Hiding in plain sight." Luke said, cryptically.
Ancel turned around to face him.
"Who is? Did you see someone suspicious, Luke?"
"Yes. You." Luke smirked.
"What? What are you talking about?" Ancel whispered.
"You used those same words about me last night. Said that if I had a lady friend, if I were smart, I'd hide her in plain sight." Luke began. "Funny, that — how you projected your scenario onto me. Isn't that what you're doing, mate? Hiding your paramour in plain sight?" Luke asked, pointedly.
"Wh… what?"
"I saw you bring Lady Rhiannon's servant into the room. You even kissed her hand. What's the story there?"
"We… spent a little time together before you captured me and brought me here. It's really nothing spectacular. We're… acquainted." Ancel shrugged.
"You looked to be more than just acquainted, and I'm not being funny about it." Luke sighed.
"Look, mate. I don't generally kiss and tell. Do you?" Ancel asked.
"I… suppose not." Luke relented.
"If you bedded Flower, would you announce it? We're his Knights, Luke. Our first commitment is to him, or… it's supposed to be." Ancel said.
"Her name is actually Floria. And, yes. I… see what you mean. Sadly." Luke sighed.
"I don't think he'd have a problem with it later on, but we're new, Luke. We wouldn't want to create waves."
"Indeed."
"So, why mention it, then?" Ancel asked, curiously.
"Because, if I could pick up on that, anyone could, Ancel. We just… need to be careful."
"We?"
"Yes. You've obviously taken a shine to Rebeccah. And, you've already figured out that I like Floria." Luke shrugged.
"Point taken. Have you seen anyone suspicious? The dark haired, blue eyed consort, perhaps?" Ancel asked, purposely diverting Luke from the awkward topic.
"Negative."
"You, uh… think you've got enough weapons on you?" Ancel grinned, nodding to the sheathed sword, plus the bow slung around one shoulder, and the quiver of arrows on the other.
"I find it's always good to be prepared. If I'm a distance away from trouble, that's what my bow is for." Luke said with a knowing look.
"Duly noted. We should split up again."
"I'll head back across the room." Luke nodded, then took leave of him.
The Sheriff led the men out of the Grand Hall so they wouldn't be interrupted. Once the doors were closed, Guy questioned him.
"What's going on, Cousin? Did you get a lead on the consort?"
"Indeed. We think she might be here somewhere." the Sheriff nodded.
"We? Who is we?" Robert asked.
"Drake is here with Lady Gunilda." he announced.
"What? I thought Drake was guarding her home? Wasn't he supposed to detain her if she escaped?" Guy asked.
"Indeed. She pretended to drink a tea that Gunilda made for her that was meant to induce sleep. Instead, she made her escape on foot. Drake went after her immediately, but she got away. So, they made their way here." he explained.
"Curses!" Guy muttered.
"Now what, Milord?" Robert asked.
"They did a walk through of the main floor looking for her. Now, they're out on the grounds. Ancel searched the second floor, but I haven't talked to him yet. Just keep your eyes open. She's medium height, dark hair, blue eyes. She'll be on her own."
"Of course, Milord." Robert nodded.
"Indeed. I'll watch for her, Cousin. I can't imagine how one little woman could be so much trouble!" Guy huffed.
"You'd be surprised. She's a crafty little wench." he sighed.
They made their way back into the room. The Sheriff spotted Ancel and went to speak with him. He sighed after Ancel's report. He knew the woman was somewhere in or around the castle, but where? How was she escaping everyone's notice?
Drake and Lady Gunilda were out on the grounds. They checked the courtyard first, and just finished walking through the labyrinth of gardens in the back. Now, they were on their way to the stables.
"She must be inside the castle, Drake. We've checked everywhere." Gunilda said.
"We haven't checked the stables. After we look there we'll head back inside." Drake suggested.
"I hope I… didn't frighten you." Gunilda said as she walked beside him.
"Frighten?"
"Well… yes. It's not every day that one would witness pure magick. You mustn't be concerned. Like I said, it's not something I would normally tap into." Gunilda explained.
"Yes. You did say that." he muttered.
"You're a good man, Drake. I hope to have you over for a nice meal and a good flask of wine once this business with Celestria is concluded. The last thing I wish to do is… scare you away." Gunilda admitted.
Drake stopped in his tracks and turned to face her.
"I'll admit, I was rather… alarmed. But, you said you don't use your powers often, and you don't use them to cause harm. I believed you when you said that. It's definitely new to me, Milady. However, I'd be pleased to dine with you sometime." Drake smiled.
"You would?"
"Of course. Don't give it another thought. Right now you're using your abilities to help. That's a good thing, from my perspective." he said.
"You're sure you're not just saying this to appease me?" Gunilda asked.
"I'm sure." Drake smiled.
"Good."
They continued on their way. Ten minutes later they arrived to the stables. Gervase heard them approaching and met them at the door.
"Oh. Do you need your horses saddled already? I'll get right — "
"No. Not yet, Gervase. I need to do a walk through of the stables. Sheriff's orders." Drake said.
"Is there a problem, Officer Drake?" Gervase asked.
"No, but I'm looking for one. She's of medium height, and has dark hair and blue eyes. Sound familiar?"
"No. Sounds like a fair maiden. I'd remember her if I saw her, but I haven't."
"I'm sure, but, I'll be the judge of that." Drake said as he walked past him.
Gunilda began to follow him.
"Perhaps you should wait there with Gervase, Lady Gunilda? The edges of your skirt and your lovely cape will get soiled in here." Drake suggested.
"You might need my help, Drake. I'll survive. I'm coming with you." she said, firmly.
Gervase looked at them curiously, wondering what the maiden they were looking for had done? In his mind, the misdeed had to be quite egregious.
"Very well. Don't say I didn't warn you." Drake grinned.
Gunilda leaned in and whispered into his ear.
"If worse comes to worst, I can make any dirt disappear." she smirked.
"Aye. Of course, you can." Drake sighed. "Let's get this over with. I'd prefer if you were inside the castle where it's warm, and out of this relentless rain."
"Agreed." she nodded.
Together, they entered into the stables to begin a thorough search.
Gervase leaned against the doorway and watched the unlikely pair for a moment. He couldn't help but wonder — was the comely lady a friend to Officer Drake? Or, something more?
Rhiannon was seated at the head table, mindlessly sipping of the wine in her goblet, and looking out over the crowd of guests. Meridwyn and Robert switched places since it made it easier for conversation. The ladies were to the right of Rhiannon and engaged in their own banter. The men were speaking in hushed voices, so she guessed it was a private business matter they were discussing.
As she was scanning the room, she noticed her husband speaking with one of his men by the doors. She couldn't tell which of them it was because the Sheriff was blocking him from her sight line. She exhaled a sigh and took a couple more generous swills of the wine.
Just then, Matheus Busby and his wife, Constancia, approached their table. Matheus was speaking with Sir Guy, as Constancia approached the ladies.
"Rhiannon, my dear!" the gentle woman exclaimed with glee.
"Stanzie! I'm so glad you could come!" Rhiannon smiled as she held the woman's hand.
"Thank you for the invitation. We're having a glorious time! I do miss Ollie, but it's nice to have a night out with Mat. Congratulations, my dear." Constancia smiled.
"Thank you. Where's Merek and Harriet? I thought they'd be here?"
"Oh my. You didn't hear?"
"Hear what?" Rhiannon asked.
"Harriet just brought forth a baby boy last night." Constancia smiled, her blue eyes twinkling.
"Again?" Meridwyn asked, drolly. "What is that now? Seven?"
"Eight." Constancia and Rhiannon answered in unison.
"Bless her. My husband and I dearly want a child, but that's… far too many blessings to handle, I think." Isabelle said.
"Aye. I concur, Sister. It goes from precious to pathological at some point, doesn't it?" Rhiannon shrugged as she took a generous swig of the wine.
"I beg your pardon!" Constancia exclaimed.
"Oh, boy. Uh… Rhi? You might want to ease up a bit." Meridwyn whispered.
Rhiannon ignored them as she took another sip of wine from her goblet. At this point, Guy, Robert, and Matheus turned their attention to the ladies.
"Oh, come now, Stanzie. Even you have to admit it's… a lot. Wouldn't you say?" Rhiannon remarked with a knowing quirk of her brow.
"I suppose, but that's my sister in law, Rhia — "
"It's a crying shame, really… that the only way to prevent it is to stop fucking." she said, matter of factly.
"Rhiannon!" Robert exclaimed. He shook his head, briefly closing his eyes.
"Uh, Rhi? Are you drunk?" Meridwyn whispered. "Damn it! He's going to have an absolute conniption — "
"Well, he's not here. Is he?" Rhiannon retorted.
"Rhiannon! Time and place!" Robert admonished.
"I don't know what's got into you, but just because you're the bride does not give you license to behave like an insufferable sow." Constancia whispered while folding her arms.
"Forgive me. I shouldn't have spoken my mind. It… must be the wine." Rhiannon shrugged.
"I certainly hope so, Rhiannon. It's quite unlike you." Constancia said, as she looked at her, curiously.
"We are pleased for you and Milord Sheriff, Milady. Our deepest best wishes to you both." Matheus said, attempting to smooth over the rough waters.
"Thank you, Matheus. My husband shall return soon if you wish to convey that to him, as well."
"Very well." he nodded. Then he took his wife back to their table.
"Rhiannon… what the bleeding hell was that?" Meridwyn demanded.
"Oh, come on, Meridwyn. Don't tell me you didn't need to control the urge to roll your eyes. I rolled mine so far back in my head, I damn near killed myself!" Rhiannon chuckled.
"Sis, people can't help how many children they're given." Robert added.
"We are women, Brother. Not brood mares!" Rhiannon scorned in a whisper.
"That may be, but you need to carefully choose your audience when you speak. There's also the matter of timing." Robert sighed.
"I agree, but I must admit — that was amusing as hell." Guy chuckled.
"I agree, husband. But, it also wasn't fair to Stanzie. She took time away from her little boy to come to the wedding and the fete, in a show of support. She's close to Harriet. It's natural she'd take offence." Meridwyn explained.
"I never thought of it that way… that she left her little boy to share in our celebration." Rhiannon frowned.
"Well, you did apologize, but… perhaps a more heartfelt one when you're yourself again would be in order." Robert suggested.
"Indeed." Meridwyn nodded.
"Yes. I'll speak to her again about it. Perhaps at mass on Sunday." Rhiannon nodded, weakly.
The Sheriff was speaking to Drake by the doors. Gunilda was leaned against the doors with her head down.
"So, you couldn't find her anywhere on the grounds?" the Sheriff asked.
"Negative. She's nowhere to be seen. The stables are clear, too."
"Then she must be close by. I need to get back to my table. You will go to the Captain. Brief him on what you told me — that she escaped and is likely to be here. Then, the rest of the men need to be informed. I don't care who tells them — you, the Captain, or both of you. Everyone needs to be on high alert, Drake. That crafty little bitch is here somewhere!" the Sheriff huffed.
"Of course, Milord. I'll get Lady Gunilda seated, then I'll take care of that straightway."
"Good. See that you do." a beat. "Did you say Lady Gunilda went into the stables with you to help with the search?"
"I don't think I mentioned that directly, but, she did, Milord."
"How is it her gown and cape look so pristine? It's raining outside, too, isn't it?"
"She fixed it… with magick." Drake said with a knowing smirk.
"Clever!" he grinned.
When he arrived back to the table he was bewildered to note that his wife was casually drinking her wine, while the others appeared to be expressing disappointment with her.
"What's going on?" the Sheriff asked.
"Ah! There you are, husband. I… almost forgot what you looked like." Rhiannon sighed.
"My lady… how much of that wine — "
"Have I drank? Not nearly enough, George." Rhiannon said, flatly.
"What did I miss now?" he sighed.
"She'll be fine. She just… was a bit too honest a few moments ago." Meridwyn hinted.
"More like brutally honest, Meridwyn." Isabelle added.
"Alright! Point taken!" Rhiannon huffed.
The Sheriff narrowed his eyes curiously, as he wondered what they were referring to.
"Matheus and Constancia came to congratulate your wife. It turns out, Harriet delivered yet another child last night." Guy explained.
"Oh. I see." the Sheriff sighed. "I can only imagine. What… exactly did you say?" he asked her.
"I might have made a comment about… how at some point, it turns from precious to pathological." Rhiannon shrugged.
"And, my personal favourite — how it's a shame that the only way to prevent it is to stop fu — " Meridwyn was interrupted.
"What?" he asked, incredulously.
"I… couldn't help myself. I don't know why. I did apologize, though." she said, weakly.
"Rhiannon." the Sheriff sighed as he took a seat beside her. "I'll say it once again. You need to ease up on your wine intake."
"You said yourself it's unlikely the consort is here. I'm just trying to take the edge off, George."
The Sheriff sighed again, while Robert and Guy exchanged knowing looks of concern with one another.
"What were those looks about? Brother? Sir Guy? Is someone going to clue me in on what's really going on?" Rhiannon asked.
"It's fine, my lady. Everything is in order." Nottingham whispered.
"Bollocks, it is! You've spent most of your time speaking with your men, and there was that time recently that you left the Hall. You three are acting like you know something." a beat. "Is that bitch here, George? Because, I'm prepared if she is."
"Husband? What in God's bleeding hell is she talking about?" Meridwyn asked Guy.
Guy shook his head and sighed.
"Surely you don't mean that strange one that pointed a dagger at us last week. Do you, Rhiannon?" Isabelle asked, nervously.
"What is that supposed to mean? Don't tell me you're arm — " the Sheriff started to say, but was interrupted.
"A lady needs to protect herself. You've been kept rather busy. Now, back to the question that you so craftily evaded: is she here?" she asked, pointedly.
"It's possible." he muttered.
"What? Either she is, or she isn't." Rhiannon huffed.
"We don't know for certain. She… escaped from Lady Gunilda's cottage. Drake and Gunilda are here to help with the search for her."
"Well, isn't this a fine celebration! First, we had those fools interrupting our ceremony, now this." Rhiannon sighed.
"Weddings around here seem to attract trouble." Guy muttered.
"I'll say!" Meridwyn exclaimed.
"What do you mean?" Robert asked.
"We had a problem in September at Guy and Meridwyn's wedding." Nottingham said.
"Well, I hope it wasn't too disastrous?" Robert asked.
"It nearly was." the Sheriff muttered.
"Yes, Robert. That was the night that Robin of Locksley's grieving paramour tried to end me." Rhiannon announced as she sipped of her wine.
"What?" Robert asked, astonished.
"She stabbed me in my right side, because she wanted George to feel the same pain she felt when Hood was killed."
"You're jesting!"
"No. I'm not. I'd show you the scar I have to look at for the rest of my life, but, it's not seemly. Trust me. It's there. Perhaps I'll show it to Isabelle and she can tell you about it?" Rhiannon sighed.
"Well, there won't be anything like that happening tonight, my angel. Tonight, we are all prepared." he said in an attempt to assuage her.
"You're God damn right, George. And, I'm one of the ones who are prepared for it." she said, firmly.
"Language, Sis!" Robert admonished.
"For God's sake Robert! I'm entitled to be angry at what Marian Dubois did to me. She nearly killed me and scarred me for life!" a beat. "I swear, if you hadn't managed to find the best wife in the world for you, I'd wonder why you didn't just become a man of the cloth. You're so puritanical." Rhiannon sighed.
"Thank you, Sister." Isabelle smiled.
"Honestly, Isabelle. I don't know how you tolerate him half the time." Rhiannon frowned.
"This is your wedding day, Rhiannon. It's not going to come around again. You look so elegant and poised; and running off your mouth like a sailor doesn't suit you. Especially, not today, my dear." Robert said.
"I suppose you're right. I guess I got a little passionate recalling that time in my life."
"It's one of the reasons I adore her. She's fearless as hell." Nottingham smirked.
"Yes. More and more it becomes quite clear why you both are well suited to each other." Robert nodded. "Of course, fearless is what happens when you're spoiled during childhood." he smirked.
"Robert, for God's sake!" Rhiannon admonished.
"Come, my angel. I know just the thing to get your mind off of these other matters." the Sheriff said as he stood and extended his hand out to her.
"Where are you taking me, husband?" she asked.
"To the dance floor, my angel. You need to let out some steam."
"It's rather amusing that you call her that." Robert quipped.
"What's that, Robert?" Nottingham asked.
"Your angel. Ha! Even as a child, I can assure you, my sister was no angel. Although, she did have Father fooled." Robert smirked.
"For God's sake, Robert! Will you never let up on your relentless teasing?" Rhiannon sighed as she accepted her husband's hand and stood from her seat.
"Alright. I shall try, just for today. But, it's part of the job. That's what brothers are for." Robert grinned.
"Yes. And, I can think of a few things to share with Isabelle about you, too, Brother dear." she remarked with a knowing quirk of her brow.
"Duly noted." Robert sighed.
"See what I mean, Guy? Every time I think of how nice it would be to have a sibling, these two remind me of how blessed I am." Meridwyn giggled.
"Indeed, dearest. The idea of it is a foreign concept in our family." Guy agreed.
As the Sheriff began romancing his new bride on the dance floor, most eyes were upon them, others were dancing, or engaged in conversation. The Captain was informing the last of the men about Drake's report. Luke had just returned to his post having walked about the room to look for the consort. Now, his eyes were drawn to Floria. She was seated at her table, laughing, engaged in conversation with the Seamstress, the Seamstress' daughter, and Lady Rhiannon's lady servant. He couldn't help but be drawn to her beauty. Ancel was observing Rebeccah from his vantage point. He was feeling regret he had caused her distress. He hoped he could make it up to her. Drake went back to the table Lady Gunilda was seated at to speak with her. So, nobody noticed anything strange about one of the servants who was handing out goblets of wine to the guests.
The night had just begun. The music of the Medley Minstrels filled the Hall. Spirits were flowing, and the guests were making merry. There was still much in store for the rest of the evening's celebrations on the occasion of the Sheriff and Lady Rhiannon's wedding day.
