In Nigel's chambers, his lady love summoned Leofwin immediately when she noticed him shivering, and sweating. Soon after Leofwin went in to see to his son, Thomas arrived to relieve Leofwin for a spell. Now, all three were conferring as Nigel was sleeping through it all.
"I don't understand?" Lady Aeleanna questioned, fretfully. "He was awake earlier. He spoke to me, then to Richard. He was almost sounding like his normal self!"
"Yes, but he's not out of the woods yet, my dear." Leofwin said as he put a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"He's in a frightful state. This can't be right!" Aeleanna exclaimed. Her pale blue eyes pleaded with him.
"Why don't you step out into the sitting area, Milady? We need to confer." Thomas suggested, nodding to Leofwin.
"He asked for me to remain here with him. You know this. He was firm about that." she reminded him.
"Yes. He did." Thomas sighed.
"Damn it!" Leofwin huffed. "Take a seat in one of the chairs, Aela. We need to discuss the next steps."
"Very well." she relented. She took a seat in a chair by the window.
"He's burning up, Leofwin." Thomas said, with a knowing quirk of his brow.
"Damn it! I don't want to bleed him. He's lost too much blood already, Tom!"
"He's going to need it. We could try the leeches method. I have a jar of — "
"Hold on a moment! WHAT? What's this about leeches? I hope that's a queer name for a surgical tool, or a medicament, because surely you cannot mean the damn insects!" Aeleanna demanded as she stood from the chair, folding her arms in defiance.
"Hmm. It may be the only option." Leofwin nodded, ignoring her protestations.
"Are you two being serious? Just… what on earth are you planning to do to my Nigel… with sodding leeches?!"
"It's a viable treatment option used for bleeding, my dear. It offers more control, and presents less risks than the traditional bleeding method." Leofwin explained.
"What? What exactly are you going to do with them?" Aeleanna demanded.
"They shall be placed on his skin in the area close to his wound, Milady." Thomas said.
"Dear God! He would hate that!" she exclaimed.
"I'm quite certain he would hate dying, and the thought of leaving you, too, Milady." Thomas said.
"You're quite correct, Tom." Leofwin nodded.
"No. Not leeches! For the love of Mary!" Aeleanna exclaimed.
"It will be alright, my dear. I promise you." Leofwin said, gently.
"Curses! Very well." Aeleanna relented with a sigh. "But, only because you're both insistent. Once he discovers them, I'm directing him to you two."
"I expect you will, Aela." Leofwin sighed. Then, he looked to Thomas. "Get the leeches, Tom. We must begin."
Thomas nodded, then left the bedchamber to grab his bag from the den.
"How long has he been asleep, Aela?" Leofwin asked.
"It was soon after Richard left. He wasn't here very long."
Thomas returned to the bedchamber, carrying his bag. He just caught the end of their conversation.
"Richard left about three hours ago." Thomas said.
"Hmm. I guess that's not too long. And, he hasn't wakened since you noticed him shivering and sweating?" Leofwin asked Aeleanna.
"No. I tried once to gently shake him as I spoke. He didn't hear me, I guess." she shrugged.
"Try now." Leofwin directed her.
"But… doesn't he need his sleep?"
"He does, but we need to know we can rouse him, too." Thomas explained.
"Oh. I see." Aeleanna frowned. She walked to the bedside and leaned down to Nigel. "Nigel? Wake up, my love." she whispered into his ear.
Nigel frowned and slowly opened his eyes.
"Leanna?" he whispered. Then, he noticed his father, and Thomas standing nearby. "What the… fuck?" he demanded in a whisper. He pulled the blanket up to his chin as he shivered, and looked to his lady. "Make them… go away, Leanna."
Aeleanna scoffed and nodded behind her to the two physicians, while folding her arms.
"One woman, and two of them. Who do you think will win that one?" she remarked as her eyebrow quirked, knowingly.
"Damn it! Why are… the pair of you… in here?" Nigel demanded of them.
"Because you need us, Nigel." Leofwin said, firmly.
"I'm fine. I have… Leanna. I submit to… one of you looking in… from time to time, but… this is… bollocks!" he snapped.
"You're not well, Nigel." Thomas said.
"Bah! I'm just a bit… cold. I'm fine." Nigel argued.
"You're cold because your body is much warmer than the room temperature, Son. You're sick with fever." Leofwin explained.
"Bollocks! The room is… chill."
"That is incorrect. There has been a fire burning in the fireplace in this room since you were brought back here. Lady Isabelle had Richard take care of that before I arrived on the scene. It's been burning well ever since." Thomas said.
"Fine. Whatever! Fever. I know… what that means." he sighed, then looked to Leofwin. "Learned that… from you, Father." a beat. "Bleed me… then." Nigel huffed.
"It is not that simple, Son." Leofwin sighed.
"What? So… are you two here… to inform me… I'm dying, then? Is that… it?" Nigel asked.
"No, Son. Stop! Not on my watch." Leofwin said, firmly.
"You won't die, Nigel. Not if you permit us to help you." Thomas said.
"But… how can you help… if you cannot… bleed me?" Nigel asked.
"I didn't say we could not bleed you. I said it's not that simple." Leofwin said.
"What?" Nigel asked, genuinely perplexed.
"We shall bleed you using a different method than the more traditional one." Thomas added.
"Great. What method… is that?" Nigel asked.
"Oh, boy." Aeleanna sighed.
Nigel noticed and looked to her, curiously.
"We are going to bleed you using leeches." Thomas stated, casually.
"Wait. WHAT?!" Nigel demanded.
"It's effective, and in your case, much safer, Son." Leofwin added.
"Where the hell… are you… putting leeches?"
"On your belly. Close to your dressing." Leofwin said.
"Damn it!" Nigel huffed. "How long?"
"We shall keep them on there for two to three hours. Then, they will be switched out for fresh ones." Thomas explained.
"WHAT!" Nigel exclaimed.
"We need to make an effort to reduce your fever, Son. You're burning up." Leofwin said, firmly.
"How long must… I endure… leeches?" Nigel demanded.
"We shall formulate a new plan once you respond favourably to this bleeding method." Thomas nodded.
"This is a bunch… of bollocks! How can I… perform in my role… with leeches attached … to me?" Nigel sighed.
"Nigel, you won't be performing anything if we don't do this. And, by the time you're well enough to resume your duties, the leeches will be long over with." Thomas explained.
Nigel sighed and looked to his lady.
"Leanna? Can you… endure this… my love?"
"Of course, Nigel. If it will help you to recover, that's all I care about." Aeleanna smiled. Though, she was actually quite taken aback by his sudden consideration to her thoughts on such a matter. She would swear that ever since he visited her the day prior, that she was courting with a completely different man. She was so far unsure of what to think about that.
Nigel nodded, then looked to the physicians.
"Those things better… not move south… toward the lads!"
"They won't move, Son. Once they're applied, they stay there until we remove them." Leofwin explained.
"I could place a small towel over them after I apply them, so that you won't see them." Thomas added.
"Fine. Do it. Let's get this… bollocks over with. Then, leave me and Leanna… be." Nigel said.
"No one is leaving for awhile, Son. At least one of us shall remain here for a time after the leeches are applied." Leofwin said, nodding beside him to Thomas.
"I'm… tired." Nigel yawned.
"Close your eyes, Son. We'll wake you in a little while to take the wine and cloves mixture." Leofwin suggested.
"That stuff… tastes vile!" Nigel frowned.
"Think of it as being similar to your mother's mulled cider that she would serve during Yule." Leofwin said.
"Bah! Fat chance of that! It is nothing like… Mother's mulled cider. Her cider… was delicious. That rotten wine stuff… tastes like… the bottom of… a privy pot!" Nigel huffed.
Aeleanna looked to the floor and quietly giggled.
"Well, that's too bad for you, Son, because you'll be getting that every two hours for the next two or three days, at the very least." Leofwin said.
"Whatever. Just begin. Get me better… so that I can… get the fuck up… out of this bed… and out of… these rooms." Nigel demanded.
"One step at a time. And, when you're better, we're going to talk about your language. But, right now, just close your eyes. I'll wake you in awhile to take the wine." Leofwin directed him.
"Goodnight… Father." Nigel whispered as he closed his eyes.
In the Sheriff's private chambers, Lady Rhiannon was straddled on top of him on the bed, grinding and bouncing upon his manhood.
"God damn… lady!" the Sheriff exclaimed.
"Yes, lover! Yes!" Rhiannon squealed.
They both shuddered as she collapsed on top of him, kissing him. After a few moments of this, she lay beside him.
"Damn, wife. When was the last time we were… like that? We've been at it for hours." he grinned as he kissed her cheek.
"I think it was… our first night together, sugar."
"Hmm. Yes. I think you're right." he smiled.
"George?"
"What is it, my angel?"
"Do you know… that you called me a slut earlier? I think it was the first go around. I don't know, I've lost track. But, I heard that part." Rhiannon frowned.
"Yes, my lady. I believe I did. Once." the Sheriff said.
"You think I'm a slut? What would make you arrive at that conclusion?" she asked, curtly.
"Of course, I don't really think that, my lady. That was only spoken to you in a moment of passion, inside of this bedchamber. At that moment, you were my own personal little slut. And, I didn't hear any protestations about it at the time. In fact, if I recall, you asked me to… fuck you harder in response to that comment." he smirked, with a knowing quirk of his brow.
"Hmm. Yes, I did. You sure you don't really think that of me?" Rhiannon asked.
"Very sure. But, when we're together, and you're like a tigress, you are my slut. That's all it is, my lady. It's a good thing. It's my own secret term of endearment."
"Very well. When you put it that way, I suppose it makes sense." she nodded.
"There's no reason anyone would think of you in such a way, my lady. You mustn't concern yourself with that." the Sheriff sighed. Don't make me want to stop fucking you, my lady.
"All this time, and you still drive me to madness." Rhiannon smiled.
"Yes. I'm certain that was just like our first night together, Rhiannon." he nodded.
"Hmm. The night that… brought us our son." she said, softly. She sat up and reached for her dressing gown at the foot of the bed.
"Rhiannon. What are you do — "
"What if… " Rhiannon began as she fastened the sash around her waist. She turned and looked down upon him. "What if… you just impregnated me, George?"
"Then… I guess our son will have a sibling. Damn it! I tried to be careful, but there was that one time… it could have happened." the Sheriff said with a knowing quirk of his brow.
"That would have been joyous news, sugar — if we didn't already have a half year old child."
"Indeed. Zeus knows if our next child is anything like he is, the damn Village will suffer a food shortage." Nottingham sighed. "Where are you going?" he asked.
"I'm going to summon for hot water." Rhiannon said, nonchalantly.
"At this time of night? It's a little late for a bath, isn't it?"
"No. I think I had better. Don't take this the wrong way, but it might help to wash away… whatever you have left there." Rhiannon explained.
"Hmm. You're right. Seems logical to me. Don't be long. You need to get rested before you do the morning feeding, or whatever." he pointed out.
"Of course, George." she nodded.
"Oh. And, Rhiannon?"
"Yes?"
"Even if you think I might be asleep, alert me as soon as you have finished bathing, so that I can summon the servants to send more hot water for me." the Sheriff said.
"Thought you said it was too late for that?" Rhiannon asked.
"We worked up a sweat, my lady." he scoffed, as he leaned on his elbow. "I'd rather do it now, because I plan to pass out straight after that. One doesn't tend to sweat in their sleep. This way, it is done, and I'm prepared for the morrow. I don't want to smell like… some ner' do well bloke from the wrong side of town." the Sheriff said with a grimace.
Rhiannon looked to the floor, quietly giggling.
"Very well." she nodded, after composing herself.
"It shall be a busy day for us both, wife." he said.
"Right." Rhiannon nodded. Then, she turned and headed out of the bedchamber.
At Lady Kaeliss' manor, the couple were now seated upon her bed, reclined against several fluffy pillows. Nichol held her to him, as they gazed ahead of them to the fire blazing in the fireplace at the wall opposite to the foot of the bed.
"Do you need to leave me now, Nichol?" Kaeliss asked.
"No, my love. I hope you won't mind, but I'm staying… for awhile. I'm too spent to ride back at the moment, even though it's not far away." Nichol said, softly.
"Of course. It is perfectly fine. I was hoping you would. When… do you begin your duties on the morrow?" she asked, curiously.
"Probably not until late morning, but I plan to be back there by dawn. Less people to see, thus, less questions." Nichol said.
"You are welcome to stay as long as you wish." Kaeliss said, softly.
Nichol turned to her and softly caressed her cheek, as he looked into her pretty dove grey eyes, framed by perfect long lashes.
"The day shall come I won't care who knows it was your manor I just came from. It's early yet, Kaeliss. Neither of us need that added pressure when we're still… getting acquainted with one another." Nichol said, softly.
"Of course, Nichol. I understand." Kaeliss nodded, speaking flatly.
"Do you? Really?" Nichol asked.
"I hope you don't think… I'm a whore. Do you, Nichol?" she asked, pointedly.
"No. You certainly know how to please me, though." Nichol grinned.
"I'm good at other things, too. Just so… you're aware." Kaeliss sighed.
"I know. You manage your horse well, and you're a right good cook, my lady. That is what I know so far. But, there's something I'm curious about." he hinted.
"Oh? What is that?"
"There was… someone before me, wasn't there?" Nichol asked.
"Seriously?" Kaeliss asked. Her eyes widened in surprise that he would say such a thing.
"Look, no judgement, my lady. Alright? We both know I didn't steal your maidenhead. Also, you seem to… know things." Nichol said with a knowing gaze.
"So… you do believe I'm a whore? Well, that's just grand, Nichol." Kaeliss huffed. She sat forward with her knees raised under the blankets, and hugged them.
"No. Do not misinterpret my words. But, there was someone, wasn't there, Kaeliss? I'm just curious." he pressed.
"Yes. But, you needn't worry that he shall come between us, because he is long gone, Nichol." Kaeliss said, flatly.
"I'm sorry, my lady." Nichol said as he reached forward, putting his hand on her shoulder.
"It's fine, Nichol. It's in the past. That is where I prefer to keep it. Let us rest, my love. You have a busy day scheduled, from the sounds of it." Kaeliss said. Then, she laid back against the pillows.
At this time, Drake had arrived back, and was just entering through the front doors of the castle. He hated that he had to leave Lady Gunilda, but he knew that if he had stayed with her he would never make it back in time for the early morning departure to Sherwood. As he began to ascend the stairs, a satisfied smirk spread across his face as he thought of the myriad ways in which his pretty little witch had pleased him. He loved everything about how this affair was going. He only hated that they needed to sneak around in order to find company, and pleasure with one another.
Drake was certain of one thing, however. He would make this work, somehow. He would perform well in his role at Nottingham Castle, and he would continue to see Lady Gunilda. She was perfect. She made no demands of him, she just naturally knew how to put him at ease. And, not just because of what she could do for him, intimately. There was something about her, and he couldn't let go. He wouldn't.
In Rebeccah's quarters, Ancel was holding her to him in her bed. He sighed contentedly, his eyes beginning to close as fatigue overtook him.
"Ancel?" Rebeccah whispered.
"What is it, my love? Not sure if I'm able for that again just now. You already took everything out of me with the second go." Ancel yawned.
"Don't you… have to go?" Rebeccah asked.
He opened his eyes and looked into hers.
"Do you want me to?" he asked.
"No. I don't want you to go. But, you must at some point, right?"
"Yes, Rebeccah. I'll leave around dawn. There will be less people about, and it will give me time to rest in my rooms before I begin my duties." Ancel said.
"I hate that we must sneak around, Ancel. It's like we are each other's… dirty little secret." Rebeccah sighed.
"My love, you're my delicious secret… for now. I don't think now is a good time to reveal to people that we are… what are we, Rebeccah?" Ancel smirked.
"Ancel?"
"Romantically entwined… perhaps?" he grinned.
"Hmm. Perhaps." Rebeccah nodded.
"I wish to remain right here with you for now, my love. Is that agreeable?" Ancel asked.
"Of course, it is." Rebeccah smiled, then kissed him softly.
"Rebeccah… " he whispered as he caressed her smooth, shiny dark hair.
"You could choose any woman you wanted, now that you're a Black Knight. Indeed, one of his top — "
"My love, shush now. You're as poised, and bright as any noblewoman I've ever met; and certainly, as beautiful. I don't want anyone else. It is you who has my heart." Ancel whispered.
"Oh, my. I thought you were going to say, "It is you I desire." But, then you had to melt me into a puddle with your word choice. Your… heart, Ancel? Seriously?" Rebeccah asked.
"Yes, Rebeccah. My heart. Because… I love you, and, I don't care what anyone thinks of it." he smiled.
"I think I… love you, too, Ancel. Damn it!"
"Why is that such a bad thing, my love?" he asked, curiously.
"Because… that's when things can get… messy." Rebeccah sighed.
"It's also when things become more meaningful and joyful, my dear. There is nothing messy about us, beautiful. You have my heart." he whispered, then kissed her softly.
"Damn it. You're all I think of. I didn't want this to happen. It might get complicated." she said.
"Don't overthink it, my love. It is what it is. We are happy, and I plan for us to stay that way." he whispered.
"You're right. I'll try not to think about what comes next." she nodded.
"One day at a time, Rebeccah." Ancel smiled. He held her close to him.
They both fell asleep soon after that.
At about an hour before first light, when the Sheriff felt like he'd only been resting maybe two hours, a knock on the outer door jolted him awake.
He opened his eyes and frowned, wondering if he dreamed of hearing the knock on the door? He turned to look over his shoulder. Lady Rhiannon was sleeping peacefully.
The knocking happened again. He jumped.
"George?"Rhiannon murmured. She opened her eyes and prepared to turn around. "I think you're having a nightmare, my — "
"I'm awake, wife." the Sheriff sighed. He sat up and grabbed his quilted silk robe that had been resting at the foot of the bed. "I take it you didn't hear — "
The knocking occurred once more, slightly louder this time.
"That." the Sheriff sighed.
"It's not even dawn!" a beat. "Oh, my. I hope Meridwyn's labours haven't started again!" Rhiannon exclaimed, while she promptly sat up.
"Be at ease, my lady." he said. He pulled his robe closed over his breeches, and tied the sash around his waist. "I'll see what this is about."
The Sheriff walked out of the bedchamber into the den, towards the door. He was surprised when he opened it.
The first face he saw was his son's. The boy was held in Lady Margaret's arms.
"Fah!" the boy squealed, then he began to giggle, holding his teddy to him.
"It cannot be feeding time already, Lady Margaret. First light hasn't even broken yet!" the Sheriff huffed, then he cast a smile upon his boy.
"No, Milord. It's not feeding time, yet. But, it seems to be playtime. He is wide awake and full of vim, Milord."
"I'm pleased to hear it, Lady Margaret, however, my wife and I are not ready for playtime. We require sleep. Both of us have a busy schedule this day. Why would you disturb us at this time of — "
"I am needed in Officer Nigel's chambers, Milord. Masters Crumwell and Rainecourt have been working diligently up until now. I must take over from them, so that they may rest for a spell." Lady Margaret explained.
"What's going on? Has Nigel worsened?" he asked, pointedly.
"Something obviously must have happened to keep both of the physicians busy with him, Milord. I didn't get any details from your Page, but, I would guess that whatever it was must have since stabilized, or neither of the physicians would wish to be relieved from duty." she pointed out, assuredly.
"I see." he said.
"However, I cannot take the wee laddie in there. Forgive me, but, he shall need to be minded by your wife."
"Yes. Of course. Come in." he nodded
After the door was closed, he went to the bedchamber, and summoned his lady into the den.
Rhiannon entered into the den, looking at the midwife, curiously.
"What's going on? It can't be feeding time yet, is it?" Rhiannon asked.
"I'll let her explain it to you, my lady." the Sheriff said, nodding to Lady Margaret. "I need to dress."
When he returned from the bedchamber a short time later, fully dressed and prepared, the midwife was gone.
Rhiannon bent down to the floor and picked up the baby from the blanket he was seated on.
"I'm going to take him inside. Perhaps he will sleep beside me?" Rhiannon said, nodding to the bedchamber doors.
"Oh. I guess Lady Margaret was remiss to mention something." he hinted.
"What was it she forgot to mention?" Rhiannon asked.
"It's playtime, my dear." the Sheriff smirked.
"Fah!" the boy laughed.
"What? For crying out — "
"Enjoy, my lady. I shall return soon. Hopefully, we can sleep a bit more. I must head to Nigel's chambers." he said as he kissed her cheek.
Then, he took his leave of them.
A short time later, he stood inside the den of Nigel's chambers, meeting with the physicians. Ladies Margaret and Aeleanna were inside the bedchamber, tending to Nigel.
"What has happened? Is he worse?" the Sheriff asked them.
"He developed a raging fever earlier in the night, Milord." Thomas reported.
"We needed to bleed him." Leofwin added.
"But… he has already lost much blood." he pointed out.
"That's why I suggested the same method used on you a fortnight ago, Milord. Leeches. It offers us better control, and presents less risks to him." Thomas explained.
"Quite right, Tom. Thank God you kept a jar of those in your bag." Leofwin smiled.
"Was he awake through this?" the Sheriff asked.
"He awoke soon after we checked on him. We had Lady Aeleanna awaken him. He was informed of what our plan was." Thomas nodded.
"He wasn't pleased about it, but he relented, and finally agreed to it. He nodded off just before we commenced. He's been sleeping ever since." Leofwin added.
"I see. Are you satisfied with his status now?"
"He is stable for now. The fever has reduced some, but it still hasn't normalized. Hopefully, we shall see a move in that direction when the leeches are changed out in two hours time." Thomas said.
"In the meantime, Aela is keeping cool, dampened cloths applied to his face and neck; and Lady Margaret is keeping a watchful eye." Leofwin explained.
"When we return to change out the leeches, that is when we'll administer the next dose of clove infused wine. That way, we won't need to disturb him between now and then." Thomas added.
"Won't that alter the normal dosing?" the Sheriff asked, curiously.
"It will be an hour past due. In this case, the benefit of him getting added sleep outweighs the risks associated with that slight interruption in dosing. When he is next awakened, we will start by giving him the wine, before changing out the leeches. Then, we shall be back on course." Leofwin explained, confidently.
"I see. What can I do to assist either of you in any way?"
"There is nothing to be done, Milord. I'm staying in my usual quarters. Leofwin is staying here in the sitting area. The only thing I can think of is perhaps another pitcher of water for Nigel when he wakens. It helps him to follow the wine with — " Thomas began to explain, but was interrupted.
"He says the clove infused wine tastes like the bottom of a privy pot." Leofwin frowned.
"In fairness, I think he might be right." the Sheriff said with a grimace, as he recalled the taste of it.
"Also, perhaps some tea for Ladies Margaret and Aeleanna, Milord. Other than that, we're set in here." Thomas nodded.
"Of course. I will arrange that." the Sheriff said.
Just then, there was a knock on the door. At the same time, Lady Aeleanna stepped out of the bedchamber and into Nigel's den.
The Sheriff opened the door and was surprised to see the Scribe was there.
"Milord Sheriff, we have a visitor. He insists on seeing Officer Nigel at once." the Scribe announced.
"What? Whom is he?" Nottingham demanded.
"That's what I'd like to know." Leofwin said, as he moved closer to the door and stood beside the Sheriff.
"It is Nigel's brother, Noah Rainecourt. He said a note was left for him to inform him of Nigel's injury."
"Ah, yes. I did do that." Leofwin sighed.
The Sheriff suddenly recalled witnessing Leofwin quickly penning a note and leaving it on his ornate desk, just before they left the Rainecourt manor the night before.
"Ha! Since when would he care? It's not like they're the best of mates." Aeleanna sighed. She pushed some loose tendrils of her shiny blonde locks from her face.
"Fine. Where is he, Scribe?" the Sheriff asked.
"He awaits you in the Council Quarters, Milord." the Scribe said.
"We shall be there directly." he said.
The Scribe nodded, then took his leave.
The Sheriff looked to Leofwin.
"I know you're in need of rest, but, you should come with me to greet your other son." he said.
"Yes. I'm going to encourage him to return home." Leofwin nodded.
Thomas agreed to remain in Nigel's chambers until Leofwin's return, then the two men exited Nigel's rooms.
A short time later, they strolled into the meeting chamber together. The Sheriff dismissed the sentry who stood waiting with Nigel's brother. The young man stood from the chair he was seated upon. He looked very much like Nigel, except leaner, with shorter hair
"Good morrow. Noah Rainecourt, Milord Sheriff." Noah nodded as he quickly advanced closer toward them. "I've only just received word. I am here to see — "
"What do you mean you only just received word? Where in the blazes have you been?" Leofwin demanded.
"At ease, Father. It got rather late when my mates and I were making merry last night. We all stayed at Cecil's manor." Noah sighed.
"Right. Well, about your brother… I'll leave that to your father to address." the Sheriff said.
"Yes. And, now is not such a good time to see him, Son." Leofwin said, firmly.
"What? For God's sake, Father. He's been injured. I need to see him!" Noah argued.
"He is asleep, Noah. He bled quite a bit. Then, he developed a raging fever. We finally have him settled. We shall let him rest now. I will be staying in his chambers." Leofwin explained.
"Does Aela know?" Noah asked, curiously.
"Yes. She's tending to him along with an apprentice of Tom's." Leofwin nodded.
"That's good she's with him, but… you won't allow his brother to see him, Father?"
"Noah, I need you to see to a couple of my charges who shall be coming by on the morrow." Leofwin said, firmly. Then, he paused a moment and sighed. "Actually, today. I was momentarily confused since I haven't slept. Brida Thorne is coming by to have her vertigo assessed; and there is another gentleman I have scheduled to have sutures removed from a cut on his arm, which I needed to repair a sennight ago." he added.
The Sheriff's ears pricked at the mention of a Brida Thorne.
"Really? You customarily take care of those matters, Father." Noah said.
"You can handle it, Noah. You are ready, Son." Leofwin nodded.
"Father! I really would prefer to see my brother." Noah said, firmly.
"There's no point, Noah. He will be asleep. He won't know you're there. I suspect he shall be fit to receive visitors by sundown." Leofwin said.
"But, that's several hours away! And, I am not a visitor. I am his brother!" Noah huffed.
"That is my firm recommendation, Son. See to those charges who are scheduled to come by today. Come back at the gloaming. That is… if that is agreeable with Milord Sheriff?" Leofwin said, looking to the Sheriff.
"Yes. That will be fine. Someone will escort you to Nigel's rooms." the Sheriff said to Noah.
"Very well. I still think you're keeping something from me, though, Father." Noah sighed, shaking his head.
"He's had a rough go of it, and that is why he needs his sleep, Son. He is still critical, but stable for now." Leofwin said.
"What exactly happened to Nigel? All you said in the note you penned was that he was injured. What manner of injury are we talking about, anyway?" Noah asked, as he narrowed his green eyes, suspiciously.
His eyes were identical to Nigel's, the Sheriff noticed.
"He took an arrow to his belly." the Sheriff said.
"Dear God!" Noah exclaimed. "But… is it out of him now?"
"Yes. It was successfully removed last night." Leofwin said, gently.
"Damn! I best send word to Seraphina." Noah sighed. "I'll get right on that as soon as — "
"No. Don't do that just now, Noah. And, do mind your language, Son. Dear God! All that private tutoring — wasted on you and your brother." Leofwin sighed, shaking his head.
"But, Father — "
"She'll want to come immediately, and my grand babies need her. If things worsen, we will inform her. Otherwise, there's no need to trouble her, Son. We will tell her — after the fact." Leofwin said, firmly.
"She dotes on him, just like Mother did. Sera would want to know. You know this, Father!" Noah argued.
"May I ask… whom is Seraphina?" the Sheriff asked, curiously.
"She is my daughter, Milord. The eldest of the three." Leofwin explained.
"I see." he nodded.
"Right. Well, this is against my better judgement, but, I shall be off. I will return at the gloaming to see to my brother." Noah sighed.
"Indeed." the Sheriff nodded.
"Very good, Noah. I shall see you then." Leofwin said.
"I still think Sera should be informed immediately, Father." Noah said firmly, folding his arms.
"No." Leofwin shook his head, adamantly.
"Father, if you wait to tell her if Nigel worsens, it will be too late. If you wait to tell her when he's on the mend, it's still too late. Either way, Sera will be inflamed about this, and rightfully so." Noah said, firmly.
"Noah, you know what she is like. She will storm in here and try to take over. Nigel adores her, but that will drive him mad. It shall drive us all mad, believe me. I shall deal with her anger when the time is right. Now is not the time for his overbearing elder sister to show up." Leofwin sighed, exasperated to need to keep explaining this point.
"Very well, Father. As long as Sera knows this was your idea to keep her in the dark." Noah said, with a knowing quirk of his brow.
"Indeed, Son. It will be fine. We will see you at the gloaming."
"Very well." Noah relented, then he looked to the Sheriff. "Thank you, Milord. It was nice to finally make your acquaintance." he smiled. Then, he nodded to them both and took his leave.
"Forgive me, Milord. I should have anticipated he'd argue with me. I must say, it's times like this I'm grateful my wife and I only had three of them. Each of them are a handful in their own way." Leofwin sighed.
"It's fine." the Sheriff nodded.
"Try to limit the number of them, if you can. Children, that is. That's all I can say. There are ways, Milord. My children are blessings, and they can also be a right pain in my hind end, if you know what I mean."
"Right. I shall keep that in mind." Nottingham nodded, controlling the urge to smirk.
With that, they left the Council Quarters. The Sheriff instructed the sentry to have a servant bring the requested items to Nigel's rooms. Next, both men headed to the staircase.
The Sheriff soon noticed Nichol, who was just entering through the front doors. Leofwin didn't notice as he was too busy explaining to the Sheriff why he truly believed it best his daughter stay away.
Nichol noticed them, and stopped in his tracks, if only to avoid questions from Master Rainecourt.
"That may make me seem like a bad father, but, you'll understand one day, Milord, I'm sure. If you knew my daughter, you'd understand." Leofwin sighed. "That's too much to pile on Nigel right now, even though he's probably the most difficult of the lot of them."
"Yes, I suppose you're right." the Sheriff said, absently.
"Are you coming upstairs, Milord?" Leofwin asked.
"No. There's something I must see to first. I shall check in later." he said.
Leofwin nodded and proceeded up the staircase. The Sheriff continued walking toward Nichol, who began to make his way toward him.
"Just getting in?" the Sheriff smirked when he stopped in front of him.
"Yes. I did grab some sleep, though." Nichol said.
"Thought you were taking a break from her for a few days?"
"I did. Then, I saw her last night. The hours flew by, so… I stayed… there."
"I see."
"Why were you and Master Rainecourt coming from the Council Quarters, George? That's rather unusual, isn't it?" Nichol asked, curiously.
"We had just met with Nigel's brother, Noah. He arrived, demanding to see Nigel." the Sheriff said.
"Oh. Is he there with him now?"
"No. Leofwin was firm about that. Nigel had a setback earlier. Fever set in. Things are settled now, but he is still being closely observed. His brother is returning at the gloaming, when Leofwin believes Nigel will possibly be fit to see anyone." the Sheriff said, quietly.
"Curses! That doesn't sound good. I hope Nigel will pull through." Nichol frowned.
"Indeed. You best rest up, Nic. There's still time for you to get some decent rest, because I'd wager you didn't sleep much."
"That is correct." Nichol grinned.
"Good for you, Nic. Just try not to plant your seed in her, or I can promise there will be no rest for you. For many years." the Sheriff said as his eyebrow shot north.
"Mate?" Nichol asked. His eyebrow raised, questioningly.
"Come. I'll walk you up. I'm heading to my rooms, too." the Sheriff said, completely ignoring his friend's suspicious gaze.
A few moments later, Ancel had left Rebeccah's rooms and was just heading down the corridor when he noticed the Sheriff and Nichol approaching in the distance. He muttered curses under his breath when the Sheriff spotted him. He turned to his right into an alcove that featured a couple of doors in there. One was on the left. The other, straight ahead. He chose the one on the left. He would have to think of something fast, but, what?
"Interesting." the Sheriff muttered.
"What is?" Nichol asked.
"You didn't see him?"
"See… whom, mate?"
"Damn these lads and their wandering cocks, Nic!" Nottingham huffed.
"What?"
"Follow me." he nodded to him.
He swiftly walked to the area to his left where he saw Ancel dart into. The same place Gilda was found the night previous. Nichol followed closely behind him.
Ancel poked his head out of supply closet number one when he heard the inevitable footsteps advancing closer.
"Ancel? What the hell are you doing? Did you just come from Rebeccah's rooms, or, are you busy with one of the servants in the damn broom cupboard?" the Sheriff demanded. He folded his arms and tapped his boot impatiently on the floor, awaiting an answer.
Ancel stepped out of the closet holding a broom in his right hand.
"What the hell?" Nichol asked.
"Oh, my. You two are awake awfully early?" Ancel remarked.
"That's the thing, Ancel. We never know when we might be needed. You mind telling me what you're doing with that broom?" the Sheriff asked, once more.
"Right. Well, a gust of wind must have blown the ash from the fireplace onto the floor in my room. I couldn't find a servant. Hated to trouble them, anyway, so I went looking on my own. Found it!" Ancel grinned, holding the broom up, grateful he came up with a solid response.
"Seriously?" Nichol scoffed.
"Indeed." the Sheriff sighed.
"What?" Ancel asked.
"Step aside, Ancel." the Sheriff said as he began to push on the door of the supply closet. "Which one of them are you fucking in here?"
"Milord?" Ancel asked.
"It can't be Hildith. I think she might be… too old for you. Let me guess. Could it be Gundred? Or, Mirella?" the Sheriff asked, pointedly.
Ancel frowned, shaking his head.
"Uh… you know their names… how, again?" Nichol asked, suspiciously.
"I pay more attention to names when they perform well. Both of the servants I mentioned are competent, reliable, and… they're quite a bit easier on the eyes than the other ones. Except, Hildith, of course. She's pleasant looking, too. But, as I said, she's older than most of my men. Except… for you, and the Duke. So, do remind yourself of Rule Number One." the Sheriff winked.
"I'm spoken for, mate. Thanks, though." Nichol chuckled.
"You… are?" Ancel asked.
"I am." Nichol nodded.
"Don't let him distract you, Nic. Let us see what — or, rather whom is behind door number one, shall we?" he said as he moved past Ancel, entering into the closet.
The Sheriff was a bit surprised to see the space was empty. He stepped out and approached the other door that was straight ahead.
"I only needed a broom, Milord." Ancel sighed.
"Bollocks! You think I've never seen this before? One of my men fucking a servant in the sodding broom cupboard? Ha! Try again! How do you think Rule Number One came to be, Ancel?" Nottingham sighed as he proceeded to enter the second closet.
He was surprised. There was no one in that closet, either. The Sheriff sighed, shaking his head. He closed the door and whirled around to face him.
"So, you seriously expect me to believe you just want to sweep your own floor? Really, Ancel?" the Sheriff scoffed.
"Yes, Milord. It's only sweeping. Anyone can do that. I'll only be a moment with it, then I shall return the broom." Ancel said, smoothly.
"Fine." he exhaled sharply. "Take care of it, then you'd better try resting again. You look like you haven't slept a wink."
"It was difficult to relax enough for that, Milord. I'm concerned about Nigel." Ancel said.
"Yes. I suppose we all are. He's being well tended to. I just met with the physicians recently. In fact, before you head into town later, see me. There's somewhere else I want you men to check out. I've a lead where I think Thorne's wife might be today." the Sheriff hinted.
"Really, Milord?" Ancel asked.
"Indeed. How did you get a lead on that?" Nichol asked, curiously.
"A comment Leofwin made to Nigel's brother who was here earlier, asking to see Nigel." the Sheriff said.
"Very well, Milord. We'll look for you before we head out." Ancel nodded.
"Good. In the meantime I shall get confirmation of that from Leofwin. He dropped a name to Nigel's brother regarding one of his charges. I need to learn how she's related to that Thorne bloke. If she's no relation, then your group can all proceed to town." he said.
"Very well." Ancel nodded.
"How are you planning to get that information out of him?" Nichol asked, curiously.
"I have my ways, Nic." the Sheriff grinned, knowingly.
Later that morning, the Sheriff had managed to acquire another hour of rest, following a couple of hours of trying to quiet the child, along with his wife.
He was bewildered at first that he had awakened at all. Then, he realized it was almost too quiet now. He arose from the bed and walked over to the cradle to check on the child.
The child was sleeping peacefully.
"George?" Rhiannon whispered. "Is he alright?"
"He is fine, my lady. He's in a peaceful slumber now." he said as he walked toward the bed.
"Good. All is well. Come. You should rest a little more, husband." she said, patting the empty area on the bed beside her.
"No. This is about the time I would typically begin my day, anyway."
"True, but you hardly slept last night. Most of that is my fault. I can't blame our boy. It's no joy for him to have an upset belly." Rhiannon frowned.
"I'll make up for the sleep that was lost, later tonight. It will be fine. What about our son, though? Is he going to be fine? I thought the wormwood and mint drops were supposed to help?"
"I think he's just out of sorts because his feedings were altered yesterday. I gave him two drops of that just before he settled. I think it is helping him, George." Rhiannon said.
"He was doing so much better until Lady Margaret brought him to us. He should not be so alert in the middle of the night, my lady! It's no wonder we had a time getting him to sleep." the Sheriff sighed.
"I agree. His schedule seems to be off, or something. He needs his rest at night. That can't be good for him. When he's in my care, everything will be done to encourage sleep. No chatter, dim lighting, and making sure he doesn't go to bed hungry."
"We must convey that to Lady Margaret. I don't know what she's doing with him, but no child should be ready for playtime during the night." he huffed.
"I'll discuss it with her. I'm only pleased to see he's comfortable now." Rhiannon said, nodding to the cradle.
"Sleep, my lady. Get it while you can. I shall see you later." the Sheriff said.
He bent down and kissed her softly, before taking his leave of her.
He stopped at Nigel's chambers before heading downstairs. He was pleased that Leofwin was free to provide an update.
"Is there any change?" the Sheriff asked.
"Not as yet. No. His temperature is still elevated, though improved from before the first round of leeches were applied. He is still asleep. Though, I still suspect he will sleep through most of the day." Leofwin said.
"Did you expect the fever would have been broken by now?"
"Sometime between now and midday was my original guess. It's variable, and often unpredictable."
"I see." the Sheriff sighed.
"Tom just applied a fresh batch of leeches. Perhaps we shall see some improvement by the time those are due to be replaced." Leofwin nodded.
"I admire your composure through this, Leofwin." the Sheriff said.
"I have to be, Milord. If I don't stay composed, I won't think straight. If I can't think properly, I will fail. Failure is not an option in my line of work. And, this is one of those times I must strive to get it right."
"Of course. You're obviously doing something right if they're travelling to your manor to see you." the Sheriff smoothly pointed out, leading into to his question.
"I suppose. Many good physicians practice similarly, though." Leofwin shrugged, modestly.
"Earlier today, you mentioned a name of one of your charges to your son, Noah. I believe you said… Brida Thorne?"
"I did. She's… due to arrive at my manor this day." Leofwin said, his green eyes narrowed, curiously.
"Would… she perhaps be any relation to Gunter Thorne?"
"Yes. She is his wife. You know her husband?"
"Yes, we are acquainted. I didn't know his wife's name, however." the Sheriff said.
"I see." Leofwin nodded.
Just then, Lady Aeleanna came through the bedchamber doors and out into the den, closing the doors behind her. She took a deep inhale, then walked toward the physician.
"Dear God, Aela! You look like you haven't slept a wink. That's why Lady Margaret is in there. You may rest, my dear!" Leofwin quietly exclaimed.
"I can't rest, Master Rainecourt. Not until I see some improvement. When will that be? He's still quite warm." Aeleanna asked, fretfully.
"It shall be a few hours yet, my dear. You must close your eyes while you can. You'll be no good to him if you're about to fall over."
"I'm quite worried about him." Aeleanna frowned.
"Let Lady Margaret take over. She's already in there doing other things. I promise I shall wake you if anything changes."
"Very well. I shall try." Aeleanna yawned.
"Put your feet up and rest your eyes, my dear. It will be alright." Leofwin smiled.
She nodded, then went back into the bedchamber.
Leofwin sighed, shaking his head.
"Why wouldn't a man marry a woman like that? She is devoted to him! The whole thing just astonishes me."
"I'm guessing he has his reasons. I'm sure they must have discussed it." the Sheriff said.
"I would hope." Leofwin sighed.
An hour later, the Sheriff and Guy, along with the two Advisors were waiting in the Council Quarters to meet with the team assigned to head into town. They were surprised when the door opened and the sentry showed Duke Farnsworth back inside. It was only a short time ago the Sheriff saw him headed for the front doors of the castle with Drake, Adam, and Alex.
The Sheriff stood from his chair at the table.
"What is it Duke? Weren't you just leaving to head to Sherwood?" he asked, curiously.
"They're waiting for me at the portcullis, Milord. We have… another problem." Duke Farnsworth sighed.
The Sheriff walked toward him. The other men at the table were wondering what the problem was as they looked upon the Captain, bewildered expressions upon each of their faces.
"I'm not sure what's going on, but… Emory and Beric are dutifully on guard out there — "
"Of course, they are. That is their assignment today, Duke, until Beric relieves Borin in the armoury for the training session." Nottingham sighed.
"Yes, Milord. We're all quite clear on that plan. However, there's something that you don't know." Duke Farnsworth hinted.
"What now?"
"Those two men appear as if they're about to pass out." Duke Farnsworth sighed.
"What?" he asked, incredulously.
And, then he remembered that the two men were, oddly, still on duty at the portcullis last night when they arrived back to the castle, and still there when he left and returned a second time with Richard and Lady Aeleanna. The night guards should have been there. How long had those two men been working?
"What the hell, Duke?" Nottingham demanded as he exhaled sharply.
"Something funny is going on with the night guards, Milord. Emory and Beric seem to be managing things alone out there. I'm not sure how long they've been at it, or how much sleep they both had last night, but they look exhausted, and they're both quite bothered about some damn thing, which they say they must speak to you about." the Captain said, shaking his head.
Just then, Mordrid, Ancel, Luke, Gerad, and Castor entered into the meeting chamber and took their places at the table.
"What's happening? Shouldn't the Duke be heading to Sherwood right now?" Mordrid quietly asked the men at the table.
"Something is up at the portcullis." Nichol said, softly.
"I'll say, Nic! Emmer and Beric are supposed to be on daytime duty. Why the hell were they still at it very late last night by the time Alfred, Alex and I returned?" Castor huffed.
The Sheriff caught some of that comment and turned to face Castor.
"Wait a moment. What's that you were just saying, Castor?" the Sheriff asked.
"When I returned here with Alex and Alfred late last night, Emory and Beric were still on duty, Milord. Aren't they assigned daytime duties at the portcullis?" Castor asked.
"I thought it was unusual they were still on duty when we made it here, too. That must have been awfully late when you returned?" Luke asked Castor.
"It was. It was very late." Castor frowned.
"Something dodgy is going on for sure, Cousin." Guy frowned, shaking his head.
"Indeed." the Sheriff agreed. He turned to look to his Captain. "Bring Emory and Beric in. While we're meeting with them, have your men keep watch at the portcullis. We will work this out — whatever it is, and decide whether a change of plans are necessary."
"It will be done, my Lord." Duke Farnsworth nodded, then promptly left to begin his task.
"Should we leave and return a bit later, Milord?" Ancel asked.
"No. There's no need for that. We'll hear what the men have to say, and then we'll move on to your instructions for later. There's a slight change of plans for you lot. We'll discuss that after we deal with whatever problem Emory and Beric have encountered." he said.
"Looks like you have a little time to fill us in now, if it pleases you, Milord." Luke pointed out.
"Very well. Originally, I was planning to send all of you to go into town to the market as a group. Now, you will be split up. Two will go to the market. The other three are going to head to the Rainecourt manor." the Sheriff began.
"Oh? Why the Rainecourt manor, Milord? Does Master Rainecourt need us to pick up some things for him there?" Mordrid asked, curiously.
"No. Nothing like that. This morning, when Nigel's brother arrived, it was discovered that Gunter Thorne's wife is expected there today. She's one of Leofwin's charges. She'll be meeting with Nigel's brother."
"Oh. I see. Are we to question her, Milord?" Mordrid asked.
"No. That would be a waste of time. She won't reveal a damn thing. It would be surprising if she did. That tactic is being put on hold with her. We're not ready for that — yet. So, the three assigned to journey there will follow her. From there, no doubt, you shall find that Thorne bloke." the Sheriff said, firmly.
"I see. So, we'll wait in the shadows to watch for her to leave, then follow her." Mordrid said.
"Indeed." the Sheriff nodded.
"She might make several stops before she finally arrives to her home, Milord." Castor pointed out.
"She might. Or, she may just go directly home, since she's seeing Nigel's brother about a vertigo problem. Either way, I'm sure she'll lead you to her dearest darling." the Sheriff scoffed.
"Then, what? Arrest him on the spot?" Luke asked.
"Right. Do we bother to knock, or — " Gerad began, but was cut off.
"You need to determine if he is there. You won't knock. Again… we're not ready to announce ourselves — yet. He's bound to make mistakes. We'll detail the finer points — " the Sheriff started to explain, but was interrupted by the sound of the door opening.
He turned to face the door, as Emory and Beric approached with the Captain. Both looking pallid with dark circles under their eyes. Both of them appearing to be quite perturbed about something. He asked the men at the table to stay seated, then addressed his men.
"Alright. Explain to me why you two look as if you're both in danger of collapsing? Just… how many extra hours were you men working last night?" the Sheriff asked them, directly.
"Hmm. It was awhile. How many do you think, Beric?" Emory asked, looking to his left at his partner.
"Seven. At least. Probably eight, or a bit more. Not sure. I lost track." Beric shrugged.
Both men looked to their Lord and nodded.
"WHAT?" he demanded, his volume raised a decibel or two.
"God's nightgown!" Guy exclaimed, quietly. He looked down and shook his head.
"Who are the ones on night duty? I've forgotten their names. Emory?" Nottingham asked.
"They are Osworth and Finn, Milord." Emory said.
"And, how long have they been with us?" he asked.
"You hired them the same time as Alfred, my Lord. Two years ago." Duke Farnsworth said.
"But, that's not all. Let's not forget that Faramond bloke, Emory." Beric said.
"Whom? I'm sure none of the Black Knights have that name." the Sheriff asked.
"The groomer, and also horse trainer guy. We'll get to that, Mil — " Emory started to say, but was interrupted.
"Why isn't Gervase handling this? The hell do I need an extra groomer for?" the Sheriff huffed.
"Milord, since early August we've added five extra men to our numbers, including their horses. Luke, Ancel, Nichol, and the return of Nigel and Richard." Duke Farnsworth pointed out.
"Plus, there's the newly acquired horses from the Jesus blokes. Remember? We brought three back from Saturday night's venture. Then, another three the following night." Nichol added.
"There's… horses coming out of the arse, Milord." Castor said.
"Probably only one horse shy of a stampede; and, I'm not being funny about it. I'm sure that's why Gervase requires assistance." Luke added.
"Right. I suppose that makes sense, then. When did the night duty guards actually show up last night?" he asked his men from the portcullis.
"It was long after Master Rainecourt arrived. We also greeted you and Richard with Nigel's lady. It wasn't until after Alex, Castor and Alfred returned here." Beric said.
"That is unacceptable! What excuse did they give? Did they leave together?" the Sheriff pressed.
"They didn't really give us an excuse, and they did leave together. They said they'd only be a few hours." Emory said.
"Which turned into several." Beric sighed. "And, oddly, the horse trainer groomer guy followed soon after." he added.
"Curses!" the Sheriff muttered.
"And then… something else odd, Milord." Emory hinted.
"Indeed." Beric nodded.
"What is it now?" he sighed.
"Some time after you and Richard returned here with Nigel's lady, the strangest thing happened. The… portcullis raised… all on its own." Emory said with a quirk of his brow.
"What?" he asked, incredulously. Then, he recalled Gilda making an unexpected appearance, and using an invisibility spell to gain access to the castle. And, he could share that fact with no one.
"Hmm. Sounds kind of witchy to me." Mordrid quipped.
"Indeed. It has that Gunilda lady's signature written all over it." Ancel nodded.
"But, she wasn't here. She would have had to pass by me, and the only lady that arrived here last night was Nigel's lady." Nichol said, firmly.
"There was no one seen at the portcullis. It just raised on its own." Emory remarked to Mordrid and Ancel. He pushed his sandy brown hair from his eyes.
"And then, it happened again maybe three quarters of an hour later. Very odd." Beric shuddered.
"It was the damndest thing ever, Milord!" Emory exclaimed, then shrugged.
"That's mad! I can't imagine how that would happen? It's far too heavy to blame on wind?" Gerad said, shaking his head.
"Indeed. I'll get someone to come by and take a look at it." the Sheriff said, smoothly. "Back to the matter at hand. You two look like you need rest. We had a lot planned for today, but if you two need relief out there, then, that's what we'll do."
"I'm sure we can manage, Milord. We don't wish to throw a kink in the agenda for today." Emory said. He tried to stifle a yawn, but was unsuccessful.
"Yes, we just needed to… fill you in." Beric added, then rubbed his eyes. He shook his head and his light brown curls shimmered, reflecting light from the torches blazing in the room.
"Right." the Sheriff sighed. "Curses." he muttered. Then, he looked to the Captain. "Change of plans, Duke. Drake and Adam shall manage the portcullis. These two need some rest." he said, nodding to Emory and Beric.
"Swear to God it's a personality change spell." Nichol muttered softly to himself. He scoffed. The Sheriff he knew three years ago would have told Emory and Beric to "man up".
"What's that, Nic? Something about a spell?" the Sheriff asked, suspiciously.
"Just… still attempting to adjust to changes around here." Nichol shrugged.
"Right." he said, simply.
"The portcullis will be handled, Milord.,Are we abandoning the Sherwood search for today?" Duke Farnsworth asked.
"No. You'll only have two with you, however. You're getting Alex and Richard. Stick to checking out the cave at the Curve, then return here." he said. He looked to Nichol. "Crossbow training, and Albert's training are postponed until the morrow."
"Noted, my Lord." Duke Farnsworth nodded.
"Very well." Nichol agreed.
"Gis, you shall notify Joseph, Aldred, and Albert in the dungeon about the change of plans. Robert, you will notify Borin."
"Of course, Milord." Robert nodded.
"I'll take care of it, Cousin. What are we doing about Finn and Osworth?" Guy asked.
The Sheriff nodded, then looked to the men from the portcullis.
"When exactly do those two generally show for the start of their duties?"
"Not until after the gloaming, Milord." Emory said.
"Good! Then, a surprise shall await them when they show." Nottingham sneered with a derisive grin.
"Milord?" Beric asked.
"Come, you two. Sit. Try not to fall asleep. We're going to go over the plan for the gloaming at the portcullis. All of you pay attention. Everyone will have returned back before then. We'll quickly discuss that plan, then Emory and Beric are relieved." he instructed. He looked to Emory and Beric. "I'm going to need you two back at the portcullis before sundown to make this work."
"Very well." Emory nodded.
Beric nodded in agreement, then the two men plus the Captain joined the men at the table.
"There's something I must remind you which I think might have slipped your mind." Nichol said.
"Really? What is that you think I've forgotten, Nic?" the Sheriff asked, curiously.
"Isn't Nigel's brother, Noah, expected back at the gloaming?" Nichol asked.
"Hmm. Yes. He is. Damn it!" the Sheriff huffed.
"If Nigel's brother comes at precisely that time of day, this might work, Milord." Emory said.
"Indeed. There's a good chance of that." Beric added.
"Really? Why is that?" the Sheriff asked.
"They're never on time. Especially Osworth." Emory said.
"We shall see. This might work, then. We will make it work, regardless." he said, firmly.
"Indeed." Guy said.
"Alright, men." the Sheriff began as he took his place at the table. "I've a vague recollection of hiring the two night guards along with Albert at the time. But, I have zero memory of hiring anyone named Faramond to assist in the stables. Can anyone here fill me in?"
"It was somewhere between the time Ancel was brought on board, and Nichol returned to us. Gervase mentioned he could use some assistance down there. I ran it by you, and you approved it. Gervase suggested him, so we went with it, Cousin." Guy said.
"Hmm. Yes, I do recall you mentioning it once. So, the bloke was brought in without any vetting, it seems." the Sheriff frowned.
"Would he ever have reason to come inside the castle?" Robert asked.
"Yes, sometimes Gervase comes in. So, I'm sure the new bloke might have come inside a time or two." Guy shrugged.
"Hmm. He might be the one." Robert sighed.
"The one… what, Robert?" Nottingham asked.
"Your mole, Milord." Robert said with a knowing quirk of his brow.
"Hmm. He could very well be. Curses! Well, we're going to get to the bottom of it. We'll start by questioning the two night guards. They might even be in on it, too, if that's the case." the Sheriff sighed.
"It wouldn't surprise me. Those three seem awfully thick, if you ask me." Beric said.
"Indeed. They appear to spend a lot of time together." Emory nodded.
"Is that so? So, you've seen them together before?" the Sheriff questioned.
"Indeed, Milord. A few times in the last fortnight." Beric nodded.
"Sounds a trifle suspicious, in my opinion." Nichol said.
"Indeed. Since when do Knights chum around with fellows who work in the stables?" Robert said, with a knowing quirk of his brow.
"That's the part that has me baffled." Luke added.
"I'll say, Luke!" Castor agreed. Then, he looked to his mate. "Ye were right to report this, Emmer. Everything ye have told us is insane, frankly." he frowned, shaking his head.
"Indeed, Cas." Emory nodded.
"That is correct. And, we're going to get to the bottom of it." Nottingham said, firmly.
At this moment, the door opened and Richard stepped inside. He instantly was abashed at having interrupted a meeting in progress.
"If you'll pardon the intrusion, I was only looking for Nichol, Milord. Regarding the timing for Alfred's session." Richard explained.
"That's fine, Richard." the Sheriff said as he stood from his chair. "Come. Join us. Your assignment has changed for today, and you need to be brought up to speed on Operation Sundown." he said.
"Operation Sundown, Milord?" Richard asked, genuinely bewildered.
"Guess you didn't notice anything funny about the portcullis." Emory said.
"It makes sense, Emmer. He's only been back a few days. He wouldn't have had the time to notice details like that. He probably doesn't even know the night guards." Castor pointed out.
"I do notice details. So does Nigel, incidentally. But, what are you two on about?" Richard asked.
"Come. Take a seat at the table. That's what we're going to discuss. It affects everyone's assignment this day. It's also the reason for Operation Sundown." Nottingham said.
"Very well, Milord." Richard agreed, although still bewildered.
Both men took their seats, and the Sheriff looked to Richard.
"Are you fit for normal duties this day?" he asked, pointedly.
"Yes, Milord." Richard nodded.
"I need you rested, Richard. You'll be in Sherwood navigating that cursed narrow path on the actual curve — at the damn Curve! You need to be sharp for that!" Nottingham said, firmly. "Then, I'm going to need you at Operation Sundown. That's going to be enlightning, possibly challenging, and perhaps, amusing. You'll need to be clear minded for that, too. The blokes are armed. They'll be vastly outnumbered, but they could get to you first. So, that said… did you sleep last night?"
"Yes, Milord. I did manage to sleep. It put me at ease speaking with Nigel. He was weakened, but sounding like his normal self." Richard smiled.
A few of the men looked down and frowned. The Sheriff sighed.
"Did I miss something else? About Nigel?" Richard asked.
"There was a problem late last night." the Sheriff said.
"With Nigel, Milord?" Richard asked, worriedly.
"He developed a raging fever, as Thomas put it. He was treated with a bleeding method, and he's been asleep ever since."
"What? He lost enough blood already, yet… they bled him? Again?" Richard asked, incredulously.
"They didn't use the traditional method. They're using leeches." Nottingham said.
"What the hell?" Mordrid muttered. He swallowed dryly and looked down.
"What? You can't be serious, Milord?" Richard asked, incredulously.
"If you have questions about it, Leofwin will explain it better. It's the best method in Nigel's case. The fever has reduced some, so, that's a start." the Sheriff said.
"Oh. I see. Is he going to be alright?"
"That is the plan, Richard. He's being well tended to. Now, can you shift your concentration to your duties today?" the Sheriff asked.
"Yes, Milord. Who are these blokes we are expecting later at this Operation Sundown event? More of the Brotherhood blokes?" Richard inquired.
"That would be Osworth and Finn, the two who are supposed to be on night duty at the portcullis." the Sheriff said.
"Wait. We're ambushing two of our own?" Richard asked, incredulously. He looked to Castor next. "I do know Osworth and Finn, by the way."
"At this time, it's not clear where their loyalties lie, Richard. You might have noticed that it was Emory and Beric who were on duty last night." the Sheriff pointed out.
"Yes, but I didn't give much thought to it. I was too concerned about Nigel, frankly." Richard shrugged.
"They asked us to cover for them for a couple of hours. That turned into… damn near a whole extra shift for us." Beric said, nodding to Emory beside him.
"What? Seriously?" Richard asked.
"As serious as leprosy." Emory sighed.
"They may be colluding with a new hire in the stables. Some bloke named Faramond who was hired as a trainer and a groomer to assist Gervase. We don't know for certain, but this is what we will find out. So, pay attention. We will go over those details now, and then you and the Captain will be heading into Sherwood with Alex. The location today will be the cave at Dead Man's Curve." Nottingham said.
"Very well, Milord." Richard nodded.
"Alright, men. Let's go over the finer points. We must sort this out now, because the three teams heading out today need to be back here well in advance of the gloaming. So, this is what we're going to do… " the Sheriff instructed them.
About an hour later, on a cold late autumn morning that felt more like winter to her, Lady Gunilda was riding through town. She slowed her horse to a canter when she came across the butcher shop. It was boarded up, and a notice was posted on the front door. She brought the horse to a halt to better read the sign.
"As of this day, Thursday, November 13th, 1197
This business, Massacriar's Butcher Shop, is CLOSED due to a threat to public safety, until further notice.
By order of,
Nottingham
— Sheriff and Chief Constable."
Gunilda smirked, then she scoffed. She was glad he put a stop to that vile place remaining open. She gently kicked her horse into motion and urged the filly to the area where the market was located. She needed to acquire a few things, and she was planning to listen in on conversations at any opportunity to see if she could glean anything regarding the Christian Brotherhood fellows. She also hoped her keen senses might guide her.
The sky was, oddly, whitish grey in colour, with crisp wind gusts at times. The two men assigned to browse at the market had already secured their horses and began to make their way through the crowds.
"There's a lot of merchants here. Maybe we should just drop by the popular ones first?" Castor suggested.
"Sounds fair. We'll start with the ones selling various foods, the textile merchants, and, our best bet is going to be the tented area that's made to look like an ale house, to be honest. And, I'm not being funny about it." Luke said.
"I would concur. If people are going to talk at all, they're going to do it in there, Luke. When the ale is flowing, the tongue gets loosened. I think we should head there. Why waste time at the merchants' tables?"
"It's early yet. It might be a slow time in the ale tent. If we remain there waiting for people to arrive, it will appear suspicious. If we leave, and then return, that will look suspect, too. I know it'll be tiresome, but… trust me." Luke said.
"If a seer had told me a sennight ago that I'd be partnered up with ye and not minding it too much in just a week's time, I'd have laughed so hard I might have self combusted, mate." Castor scoffed. Then, he straightened his expression. "Alright. We'll try it your way."
"Good." Luke smirked. "Understood. I've seen things in the last… five years I never would have believed, either; but… here we are." he sighed.
"No doubt, Luke." Castor frowned as they walked together. "Do ye think we should split up?"
"I don't think it's necessary. Let's start with the Busbys. They're just up ahead." Luke unobtrusively pointed out the tables set up from the Busby Farm. "I get the impression the Busby woman knows loads of people, Cas. She's well acquainted with Milord's wife, Lady Rhiannon. She also told Sir Guy and I about a friendly chat with the ruddy ginger fugitive the rest of you call 'potato bloke'. If she's heard anything she will tell us. Matheus is on the Town Council." Luke said quietly, his eyebrow raised, knowingly.
"Ah, yes. Good point, mate. Let's go see what's happening over at the Busby tables." Castor nodded with a smirk.
"Wonder if she brought any tarts this time? On occasion, she sells her homemade tarts. I could use one right about — " Luke began to say, but was interrupted as his eye caught something.
"Those tarts must be good, because I think you're daydreaming about them, Luke." Castor scoffed. He straightened his expression while eyeing him, curiously. "Luke?"
"Curses!" Luke exclaimed in a whisper.
"What is it?" Castor asked.
"Now, why would she be here?" Luke muttered when he noticed Lady Gunilda about fifteen yards ahead of them.
"Hate to break the news, mate, but we're at a market. Loads of women come here to blow their husbands' money." Castor chuckled.
"It's that Gunilda lady. The pretty, older one. The one who has a thing for Drake, and who turned up at Charlie's tavern on Monday night. She's nobody's wife. She's nobody's anything at the moment. There's something… mesmeric about her. I don't know if that's a good thing." Luke mused, narrowing his blue green eyes. He nodded in her direction.
Luke remembered the Sheriff telling him just over a sennight ago he was considering her for an espial role. Did that happen, officially? The Sheriff also told him she was a witch. What kind of a witch? He'd been wondering since the night of the wedding fete what she meant when she shouted to the Sheriff in the shed, "Now, Milord! It's working! Do it now!" What was working? Some kind of a spell?
"It's sounding like you might be the one having a thing — for her, mate." Castor chuckled.
"Seriously, Cas? She's likely old enough to be my mother! No, it's nothing like that. I just think it's kind of… odd how she keeps showing up at the strangest of times. Don't you think?" Luke pointed out.
"I still think you're reading too much into her being here right now." a beat. "I do recall seeing her on Milord's wedding day, though. She came with Drake. Apparently, he was sent to guard her home the night before." Castor said.
"Yes. That is true." Luke said, evasively.
"Now that I think of it, the night before that, she showed up. When we told her the Sheriff was occupied, she asked for Drake." Castor shrugged.
"Interesting." Luke said.
"Kind of strange." Castor added.
"It matters not. Let's go over to the Busbys' tables. Perhaps Constancia Busby will have something to share with us." Luke instructed.
They started to walk in that direction when Castor suddenly thought to address something Luke mentioned.
"What's this about that mysterious raven haired lady having a thing for Drake, Luke? Does Drake know this? If so, he was very good about hiding that when we saw him with her at the portcullis on Milord's wedding day."
"Not sure about that. He's never spoken of it. You know him, though. He's astute about many things, but seems to be slow to pick up on obvious cues from the ladies. She's laid the charm on him quite thickly a couple of times, but he didn't seem to notice." Luke said.
"I thought he was courting a maiden named 'Mirrorball', or some such peculiar name — "
"Her name was Mirabelle. He hasn't mentioned her in quite awhile. Probably close to two months since I've heard him drop her name. I'm guessing that romance died, Cas." Luke shrugged.
"Hmm. I wonder why?" Castor smirked, with a knowing quirk of his brow.
The team sent to the Rainecourt manor were making their way on the path leading to it, following the Sheriff's directions.
"I hope we're getting close. And, I also hope Thorne's wife hasn't already been in to see Nigel's brother and left already." Gerad said when the men had slowed their horses to a canter.
"I think that's it, Gerad." Mordrid said.
"Where?" Gerad asked, as he scanned both sides of the path in front of them.
"Just up ahead on the hill, to the left." Mordrid pointed to it.
"You mean… that great big manor? No! That can't be?" Gerad said, shaking his head.
"It would make sense, based on the directions and description Milord gave us. He mentioned a large manor, that looked newer to him than most places. " Ancel nodded.
"He did. He guessed it was probably built in this century. I suppose we shall see when we reach the top of the hill." Mordrid added.
"How did I miss that?" Gerad asked.
"You were having a quiet side conversation with Nic. You need to pay attention, Gerad. Fortunately, I don't think Milord Sheriff noticed." Mordrid sighed.
"Noted. You're right." Gerad nodded, then he looked ahead to what he could tell from his angle was a very large stone manor. "Holy hell! It's huge! More like a manse. All this time we've known Nigel, Mordrid — it's looking like he comes from nobility. What?" Gerad exclaimed.
"So does Luke, Gerad. And, he's one of our best — just like Nigel." Mordrid pointed out.
"Damn! He's never said a word about it." Gerad narrowed his vivid blue eyes, and pushed his long raven black hair from them.
"Of course, not. Why would he? And, only you and I, and Richard knew his father is a medicus. He doesn't talk about his family, except with Richard." Mordrid said.
"I guess that makes sense. Wonder what his brother is like?" Gerad mused.
"Richard has told me he's studious, and he looks exactly like Nigel, except his hair is cut short, and he's lean like their father. Not muscled like Nigel is." Mordrid said.
"Nobody is as muscled as Nigel is, in fairness." Gerad chuckled.
"Yes. Well, that's going to change when he recovers and teaches us his training regime, and some of his moves." Ancel smirked.
"Damn right, Ancel. I'm eager to learn from him, too. I need to get into better form before I see Demetria. Let us hope he pulls through. In the meantime, let's make haste and find a place to hide. I don't want to lose that Thorne woman if she's already there." Mordrid said, firmly.
A short time later, they were hidden in a tree line at the edge of the expanse of property. They noticed a horse secured to a tree on the front of the property, and wondered who owned the horse.
"She might be in there." Mordrid said.
"No. Doubtful, Mordrid. Didn't the Sheriff tell us she was seeing Nigel's brother about a vertigo problem? I say she hasn't shown as yet." Gerad said, quietly.
"We're about to find out. The front door is opening." Ancel said, nodding in that direction.
The men looked toward the front of the Rainecourt manor as two men stepped outside. One stood near the door as the other looked like he was preparing to leave. The one who was leaving nodded, then shook the young man's hand, before heading to the horse and untethering it from the tree.
"My God. He does look like Nigel. I'd swear that was Nigel standing at that door and waving at the other bloke — if Nigel cut his hair off… and stopped training." Gerad whispered, shaking his head.
"Yes. Looks like Richard was right about that." Ancel agreed.
"Indeed. Wonder how long it will be before Thorne's wife shows?" Mordrid said, softly.
The man mounted his horse and headed further north, as Noah went inside and closed the front door. And then, snowflakes appeared, floating in the air and gently falling to the ground.
"Well, this is a bit unusual." Gerad remarked.
"What is?" Mordrid asked.
"It's snowing." Gerad said, simply.
"No kidding, Gerad. The white sky should have been your first clue." Mordrid scoffed.
"It's only the nineteenth of November. A little early for that, don't you think?" Gerad pointed out.
"Perhaps. Nothing we can do about it, except mind any icy bits on the paths." Mordrid said.
"Well, let's hope we don't have a quick thaw then a refreeze. Hopefully, we won't get much of it." Gerad sighed.
"It's damn near winter, Gerad. We're going to see snow. Are you actually whinging about snow?" Mordrid quietly pointed out, in a huff.
"Winter is depressing. Any other season is fine with me. Autumn is probably my top season." Gerad shrugged.
"You do have a point." Ancel nodded.
Then, just as Mordrid opened his mouth to add to that, Ancel stopped him.
"I hear the sound of horses' hooves on the path." Ancel warned them.
"I hear it, too." Mordrid nodded.
"Sounds like they're coming from the opposite direction we came from. If that's her, would she be coming from Nettlestone?" Gerad asked.
"Possibly. We shall see." Mordrid said.
He pushed his flaxen blond hair from his eyes and reached into the pocket of his surcoat, extracting his spyglass. He held it up to his right eye, squinting the other as he peered through it.
"It's a woman. She's driving a wagon, oddly. Let's see if that woman is heading to this place." Mordrid said, moving the spyglass from his eye.
"If it is her, it's strange she doesn't have a driver — since she's allegedly suffering from vertigo." Ancel pointed out.
"Exactly." Mordrid nodded.
"Looks like she's steering the wagon onto the Rainecourt property. It must be her." Gerad said, nodding in that direction.
They were about thirty yards away, but they could see a small woman with reddish brown hair fashioned in a bun, step down from the wagon and walk to the door. She pulled the hood of her grey coloured cape up over her head. After a few moments, the door opened, and the lady stepped inside. A few moments after that, a man appeared from the side of the manor the men couldn't visualize as well, and moved the wagon. They guessed he was taking the horses to the stables.
"Hmm. Wonder how long that sort of problem takes before a medicament is given and she's sent on her way?" Gerad mused, quietly.
"It's different for everyone. Hopefully, she won't faint in there as a result of it." Ancel said.
"How is it you know so much?" Gerad asked. Then, he noticed Mordrid not reacting. "And, why are you unfazed that Ancel just spoke like a medicus?"
"My uncle is a medicus." Ancel said, simply.
"We found that out the day the Sheriff was shot with that arrow. It was Ancel who told us to leave the arrow in place until the medicus saw to him." Mordrid added.
"I see. He came around quite quickly after that. Did his wound look… as bad as Nigel's?" Gerad asked, curiously.
"No. And, Milord didn't have the poor colour to his skin that Nigel did. He was… fixed up rather quickly." Mordrid said, he momentarily shuddered as he recalled the medicus working on him.
"He was, and then he insisted we ride back soon after that." Ancel added.
"If only It were that simple for Nigel." Gerad sighed.
"Nigel is younger, strong, and was perfectly hale before this. He'll fight this, Gerad." Mordrid said.
"Of course, he will. I hope that woman won't be long. The snow is picking up and we're going to need to follow her, farther away from the castle." Gerad frowned.
"We will do what needs to be done, Gerad. Even during snowfall. Ease up!" Mordrid huffed.
"Got it." Gerad sighed.
At the market in the Village, there were a group of young children playing close to Busby's tables. A very young boy threw a rock at a small girl, to which the little girl cried. Her mother came running over to comfort her, nearly bumping into Castor on her way there. And then, a shriek.
"Oliver! No! What are you doing?" Constancia Busby admonished. She ran from behind the table to grab his arm and escort him to where she stood. "You are not to throw rocks, Oliver! At anyone!" she added firmly, shaking her pointed index finger at him. Then, she was giving her apologies to the girl's mother, and demanding her son do the same with the girl.
Luke and Castor were approaching the Busbys' tables, and couldn't help but notice the interruption with the wee Busby boy. Also approaching was Lady Gunilda. She was about six feet to the left of the men, who didn't notice her presence.
"How many times have I told you to stop throwing things at people, Ollie!" Constancia huffed, after the girl and her mother went on their way.
"Yes, Mother." the boy pouted.
"Stanzie? What's going on? We have customers, my dear." Matheus sighed.
"Of course, Mat. Next time his nurse calls off sick on a market day, I'm staying home with him. He's a growing concern." Constancia said, firmly. She looked to the men and the others appearing at their tables. "Give me a moment. Matheus will assist you. I'll be right back." she smiled.
"Stanzie!" Matheus admonished in a huff.
"I'll get him sorted, Mat. I'll only be a moment." she said. Then, she escorted the wee lad to an area well in back of the tables.
"Forgive the minor interruption. We weren't expecting to bring our son with us. What can I do for you?" Matheus asked the two men.
"Would you have any of your wife's tarts available this day?" Luke asked, casually. He didn't want to mention anything related to business in front of the other customers.
"You're just in time, Officer Luke. They're selling fast." Matheus smiled. Then, he looked to Castor. "I recognize you from the portcullis at the castle." he said, softly. "Don't think I know your name, though."
"It's Castor. Nice to meet ye." Castor nodded with a smile.
"Likewise. I'm Matheus. You probably already knew that."
"Indeed. What variety of tarts do ye have available? Luke has me interested in trying one."
"We have cherry, apple, mulberry, and one with a filling of raisins, brown sugar, cloves, and nutmeg. It might not sound appealing, but that is my favourite. It's delicious."
"Oh. Right. I'd like one of those raisin ones, please." Castor said.
"I'd like a cherry tart, please, Matheus." Luke smiled.
"Very well." Matheus nodded.
Matheus carefully wrapped the tarts and placed them in small sacks and gave them to the men after collecting coins from them.
The men took their sacks, and then were interrupted by a woman's voice.
"Ah! It's Luke, isn't it? Drake's friend? You're the one with the dreamy voice." she said, quietly.
"Dreamy voice?" Matheus asked, narrowing his eyes, curiously.
Luke and Castor turned to their left to face Lady Gunilda.
"Good day, Lady Gunilda." Luke nodded.
Castor gave her a smile and a nod and was just about to greet her, when they were suddenly interrupted.
"Oh, my stars! It's Lucas!" an unfamiliar blonde woman suddenly shrieked, pointing to him.
"Oh my, God! You're right, Mirenna! It's him!" another lady squealed with glee.
"What the — " Luke began, but was cut off.
The two ladies shouting out his name grabbed the attention of more young ladies, who were pointing at him, and excitedly joining in the fray.
"What in the devil is happening?" Matheus asked.
Castor began to chuckle.
"Lucas?" Matheus quietly asked Castor, nodding toward Luke.
"That's his stage name, Matheus. You best address him by that, since… he seems to be famous now." Castor smirked.
"Stage name?" Matheus asked.
"Lucas!" the two ladies' friends began screaming.
The group of ladies began to swiftly advance closer to them.
"Fuck." Luke muttered. He pulled up the hood of his surcoat and looked downcast.
"Think you're too late for that, mate." Castor chortled.
"Oh, my goodness! May I have your autograph, Lucas? I've a quill and a wee jar of ink in my bag for occasions such as this. All I need is parchment, or something." the first woman said.
"We could grab some bark off that birch tree just over there, Mirenna! We'll hold it under our capes to keep it dry." the second lady suggested, pointing to it about ten yards away from where they stood.
"Well, uh… " Luke began, then he looked down and sighed.
"A grand idea, Agnes! I'll be right back." Mirenna, the excited blonde lady said. Then, she looked to Luke. "Wait right here, Lucas. I'll only be a moment!"
"Right." Luke said, flatly.
"Uh… can you enlighten me what all this fuss is about?" Matheus quietly asked Castor.
"He was entertaining the patrons for two nights straight at the tavern — as a Bard. A Bard who actually sings. They don't know his real identity, obviously. We were… working." Castor explained in a whisper.
"What? You must be jesting!"
"No. He's damn good at it, too." Castor smirked.
"You're not helping, Cas." Luke muttered.
"It seems he must be right. Here comes another group of your fan followers… Lucas." Matheus said softly with a grin.
"What?" Luke asked, then he turned and saw another group of young women walking swiftly toward him.
"Oh, my! He looked right into my eyes! Isn't he the sweetest?" one of the women loudly told her friends.
Then, they all shouted in unison, "LUCAS!"
"For the love of — " Luke began, shaking his head, but was interrupted.
"Just talk to them for a moment, mate. Keep your hood up. We'll find a way out of this." Castor said.
"Damn it, Cas! We'll never get anything accomplished at this rate!" Luke huffed.
Just then, Constancia arrived back to the tables and was bewildered to see a group of overly exited young ladies surrounding and fawning over Officer Luke of the Sheriff's Black Knights.
"What in the world is happening? Mat?" Constancia quietly asked her husband.
Matheus whispered into her ear for a couple of moments, then a grin formed upon her face.
"He's really quite good." Gunilda said softly to her.
"Yes. I can imagine." Constancia giggled.
Luke began to reluctantly sign bits of birchbark that was being brought back by several of the young ladies who followed Mirenna to the birch tree. Castor tried very hard not to laugh. The other customers visiting the Busby tables looked on, curiously. Matheus looked down and chuckled.
"I'm going to have to get Mat to take me to the tavern that Offi — that Lucas performs in." Constancia remarked softly to Lady Gunilda, nodding ahead to Luke and his throng of admirers.
"I recommend it. I saw him there on Monday night. He's uniquely talented. Never heard another like him." Gunilda smiled.
"How delightful!" Constancia remarked, merrily.
"Indeed! Have you fruits and vegetables? It's getting crowded on this side of your tables, so I cannot properly see all of your wares."
"I do. We have potatoes, and several different root, and gourd vegetables. They're perfect for soups and stews, Milady." Constancia smiled.
"Very good. Would you mind bagging some for me? I need six potatoes, carrots if you have any, and whatever gourds you think might bode nicely in a lamb and mutton stew." Gunilda said.
"Of course, Milady. I would suggest you add the chopped gourds to it near the end of the cooking time, so they don't turn to purée in there." Constancia nodded, then moved down to the other end of the tables grabbing a large sack to take with her.
There was a group of ladies crowded around Luke and Castor. Another group of both men and women were gathered in front of the tables in the area where Constancia was choosing produce for Lady Gunilda, waiting to meet him.
"Do you have a wife? A… lady friend, perhaps?" a young excited lady with long dark hair asked, hoping he would say, 'No.'.
"Uh… " Luke parried.
"Joya!" another girl admonished.
"You're so silly, Berta! It's a normal question."
"Is it?" Castor said, with a questioning quirk of his brow.
Young Joya looked to Luke and smiled. "We saw you on Monday night. You were wonderful! I mean… where can we find you, Lucas?"
"You can find me at Charlie's tavern… from time to time." Luke said, smoothly.
"Curses. Not sure if that Charlie fellow will grant us entry again, Berta. He kept looking at us in a funny way." Joya pouted.
"I think he will, but stop acting desperate." Berta admonished, quietly.
After the group of young women moved a little further away, beaming that they had a chance to interact with the Bard they admired, the smaller group came by to meet him and shake his hand. One man stayed behind after his friends started to disperse.
"I must thank you, Lucas." the man smiled.
"Thank me? For what?" Luke asked, curiously.
"My wife and I were at the tavern last night. We enjoyed it very much. We returned home after your performance. I don't know what happened, but she wouldn't leave me alone. We haven't had a night like that since our wedding night." the man shared with him, grinning.
Castor looked to the ground and started to chuckle.
"Oh. I… see." Luke said, with a soft sigh.
"Hope we see you there again soon. Very good show, Lucas!" he said, slapping Luke on the back.
"Right. Thank you." Luke nodded.
The man took his leave, and Castor looked to Luke, still amused by it all.
"I might lose my morning repast." Luke muttered. He exhaled sharply and shook his head.
"Relax, Luke. It's over now. We should make our way over to that ale tent — "
"What's the point, Castor? I'll probably just get gawked at and swarmed over there, too." Luke huffed.
"I'd suggest you keep your hood up, and your head down." Gunilda said when she suddenly appeared before them, carrying a large sack.
"Indeed." Luke nodded.
"Mate, I'm going to see if there's anyone at the ale tent. I'll be back directly with a report." Castor said.
Luke agreed, and Castor swiftly left them.
Lady Gunilda nodded for Luke to come closer to her. He moved in toward her.
"How much has he told you about me, Luke?" Gunilda asked, quietly. "I get the impression he's… rather bonded with you." she added, referring to the Sheriff.
"Yes, I guess you could say we are. I know that many, many years ago, you and he were… sort of… courting. He told me this when I was… unwell, just over a sennight ago. I'm one of the few he informed he was considering you for an espial role." Luke whispered.
"That is true. I am officially one now, as of Sunday. Did he mention… anything else?" Gunilda asked, curiously.
"As you know, he doesn't share much. But, he did say that you are… a witch." Luke said, softly.
"I guess you could say I am. And, here is where that bit of information can help you now, Luke." Gunilda hinted. Her caramel coloured eyes twinkled as the odd snowflake fell to her eyelashes.
"Help me… how?" Luke asked, his blue green eyes narrowed, suspiciously.
"You and your comrade need to head to the ale tent. I'm guessing you two are here on assignment. Correct?"
"Uh… yes." he nodded.
"And, you'd like to perform your tasks without being overtaken by your admirers."
"Of course. But, not sure how that's possible now — without placing a large sack over my head." Luke sighed.
"I can help with that, Luke. But, you mustn't tell your comrades. I'm fine with you telling George, however." Gunilda smiled.
"What? How?"
"I can make it so the people who just swarmed you won't recall seeing you. It will last for about a quarter of an hour, and you'll have that time to do what needs to be done at that ale tent." Gunilda said, softly.
"It… won't harm them, will it? Whatever it is you're planning? I'm guessing it's some sort of enchantment?" Luke asked.
"No. No harm at all, Luke."
"You'd do that? For me?" Luke asked.
"George is a friend of mine, and now his wife is, too. I can tell he thinks very highly of you. It was also clear that Ladies Rhiannon and Meridwyn were comfortable with you, as well. They all trust you. So does Drake." a beat. "I'm happy to help." Gunilda smiled.
"But, how? Do we have to be near those people again?"
"No. They're all still close by, because they're all fascinated with you. Understandable, because you are very talented. I just need a moment to direct it to them. It can be done right here. Just don't interrupt as I summon the spell." Gunilda explained.
"The young ladies are still staring at me, for God's sake!" Luke huffed, quietly.
"Not a problem, Luke."
"Very well. As long as you promise no harm will come to any of them. I'm sure they're all nice people, but, I've a task to perform." Luke sighed.
Gunilda nodded, then turned toward the people who were about twenty feet away from them. They were still looking in Luke's direction. She closed her eyes, surreptitiously waving her fingers toward them.
"Momentous absentia." she whispered repeatedly.
Luke observed her, then slowly turned his head toward the crowd of people who had gathered around him only moments ago. The young dark haired girl, Joya, was smiling at him and gave him a wink. Luke sighed, then a moment later each of them had bewildered expressions upon their faces. He quickly turned away from them, pulling his hood even more on his head to conceal his identity.
Then, he heard young Joya.
"Wait. Where did I get this, Berta? This looks like an autograph from that dreamy Lucas fellow — on a piece of birchbark!"
"Beats me? Maybe someone here is selling things from Lucas?" her friend replied.
"I have one, too!" Mirenna, the blonde lady exclaimed.
"So, did that work?" Luke quietly asked after Gunilda opened her eyes.
"Yes." she smiled.
"But, they still know who I am?"
"Of course, they do. The only thing I did was remove you from their memory of interacting with you moments ago. And, you'll be invisible to them for about a quarter of an hour. You will still need to conceal yourself in the interim because… it seems people around here like you, Luke." Gunilda smirked.
"Hmm. I suppose that makes sense. Thank you, Milady."
"I'm pleased to assist." she nodded.
Castor arrived back at that moment.
"The ale tent is filling, Luke. Seems like a good time to head in there." Castor said.
"Very well." Luke nodded. Then, he looked to Lady Gunilda. "Are you going to be alright carrying that sack, Milady?"
"I'll be fine, Officer Luke." Gunilda nodded.
"You best mind yourself, Milady. The snow is really picking up." Luke cautioned her.
"Indeed. Have ye a driver to see ye home, Milady?" Castor asked.
"No. I brought my horse. I'll be fine, men. Thank you. I'll be sticking to the main pathways." Gunilda smiled. Then, she took her leave of them.
"Alright, Cas. Let's go. We haven't much time." Luke said as he started in the direction of the ale tent.
"What? What do ye mean we haven't much time? We have plenty of time before the gloaming, Luke." Castor pointed out.
"Of course, we do. But… we might want to make our way back before there's a full on blizzard happening, don't you think?"
"Hmm. Yes. Quite right." Castor nodded. Then, he frowned as a thought occurred to him. "Damn! I hope the men headed to the damn Curve are going to be alright. What a terrible day to need to be there!
"Indeed. I've never been there, but it sounds awful." Luke frowned.
"It's harrowing as fuck, mate — on a good day!" Castor exclaimed, quietly.
"Damn." Luke said, softly. He hoped the Captain might call off the endeavour if the path was that bad.
Nichol entered in the castle through the front entrance and made his way inside. He saw Nottingham up ahead of him, heading for the Council Quarters.
The Sheriff noticed something in his peripheral vision and turned his head. He walked toward Nichol, curiously.
"Where were you just now, Nic?" he asked, then squinted his eyes slightly for a moment. "Is that melted snow that dampened your face, or are you sweating?"
"It's a little of both." Nichol said.
"Why would you be perspiring? And, why were you outside, anyway? I've nothing for you out there. Your training sessions are postponed." the Sheriff reminded him, his eyes narrowed, suspiciously.
"I was splitting and chopping wood." Nichol replied, casually.
"Whatever for? We've people around here that take care of that!"
"It's snowing outside."
"What? Did you hit your head? Of course, it is." the Sheriff sighed.
"And, it's turned awfully chill. So, I was gathering some wood to take to Kaeliss." Nichol explained.
"What?"
"Requesting to borrow one of the wagons for a short jaunt to my lady's manor and back. I will return directly, George." Nichol said.
"Really, Nic?" the Sheriff sighed.
"When Lady Rhiannon was living at her manor, didn't you worry about her staying warm through the winter months, mate?"
"Uh… in fairness, last winter was a… we were apart. I did worry about her. I couldn't get to her, however. She's been here with me this season, so I ensure she's kept warm." the Sheriff said, evasively. He sighed and looked downcast.
"What?" Nichol asked, quite bewildered by his response.
"Right. Since there's no one around us right now, here's the abridged version: Lady Rhiannon was held captive last year, and part of this year. For many months." Nottingham explained, quietly.
Nichol narrowed his vivid green eyes a moment, studying him. The Sheriff never broke eye contact.
"You're not jesting. Are you?" Nichol asked.
"No. I do not." he said, unblinking. Then, he sighed, shaking his head.
"How long was she captive?" Nichol whispered.
"Over eight months. Damn near nine."
"Are you bleeding serious right now, George?" Nichol whispered, incredulously.
"I'm dead serious, Nic. I couldn't make this up if I tried. There's more to the story I wish to share with you, but, not right now. You're right. If my lady was staying at her manor, I'd be doing the same." the Sheriff said, softly. He sighed. "Fine. Take one of the wagons. Don't be long."
"Requesting permission to take the Page, as well — to assist me with loading and unloading the wagon." Nichol added.
"Fine. Since it's you asking — granted." the Sheriff nodded.
"Cheers, George." Nichol nodded. "I'm sorry that happened, mate. You don't need to say more about such a difficult subject. She is here now. You are now wed. Best to leave that in the past."
"Normally, you would be right. But, there is more for you to know. I will tell you about it. There is some ground to cover regarding the vicissitudes since you've been absent. Even in the last year. We're going to talk about it. Just not now." the Sheriff said, firmly.
"Understood. I'll be on my way. The snow is really picking up now." Nichol nodded. Then, he took his leave.
The Captain and his team were deep in Sherwood, a couple of miles from Hood's former outlaw camp. They were approaching the point in the forest known as Dead Man's Curve. It featured a narrow winding path that curved sharply to the left over a steep ravine. The men dismounted and secured their horses to trees before continuing the rest of the way on foot.
"Mind your footing, men. I wasn't expecting this cursed snow." Duke Farnsworth said, firmly.
"Indeed. It shall prove interesting, no doubt, attempting to get that injured, pudgy potato bloke across this cursed path." Alex huffed
"Every time I'm here I'm reminded of how this place got its name. I think Nigel was forgetting the bloke is probably injured now when he suggested we check here. The fugitive might not even be in the cave. If he's that bad off, can't imagine why he'd choose to take this damn path." Richard added.
"You could be right, but we must confirm that by checking. We will see this through, men." a beat. "Follow me." the Captain directed them. Then, he nodded for the men to get in back of him.
The three men carefully began to walk the path in single file.
The men made their way across the narrow path, careful to watch their footing. At one point, Alex's boot caught on a rock which was buried under snow, and he began to slip, but the Captain and Richard were able to safely guide him and prevent him falling over the side into the ravine. Finally, they made it to the end of the treacherous path. Twenty yards ahead was the mouth of the large cave.
Once they made it to the entrance, they stopped for a moment. Duke Farnsworth held an unlit torch in his right hand.
"Alright. Which of you brought the flint and the fire striker?" the Captain asked.
"I have them." Richard nodded. He pulled them from the pocket of his surcoat and went to work, lighting the torch.
"Stay close, men. Let's see if our fugitive is inside." Duke Farnsworth nodded.
"I've never liked the Forest, but this place is the worst of it. It makes my skin crawl, it's so creepy." Alex whispered.
"Onward, Alex. I expect this won't take long." Duke Farnsworth said, firmly.
The light of the torch illuminating the white, tan and brown coloured stalactites that hung like icicles from above them —some as long as ten inches or so, the stalagmites on the floor, as well as the empty hollow feeling the large cavern evoked, punctuated Alex's words.
The Captain held the torch closer to the ground.
"Blood drops, men." he said as he pointed to them.
"Looks like they run in two directions, Captain, if we go by what Ancel explained about it." Alex said.
"Great. So, he came here, and at some point he left." Richard sighed.
"And, the damn snow is destroying any blood trail left outside this cursed cave." Duke Farnsworth huffed. He held the torch high, advancing further into it.
"Is anyone here?" he called out, his voice echoing in an eerie hollow replay.
"Who is there?" a man called out.
"We were here first." a woman's voice rang out, ending with a giggle. It evoked an eerie feeling when it echoed.
"Go on! There's a smaller cave just north of this one. We're not sharing with ye, whoever ye are." another man's voice added.
"What in the devil? Is he here with two others?" Duke Farnsworth exclaimed in a whisper.
Richard sighed. Alex nodded at Richard, then looked to the Captain.
"I think some highwaymen and a woman are having a… wee party in here, Duke." Alex said.
"What? You must be jesting. Why the hell would anyone want to be in — " the Captain started to quietly argue, but was interrupted.
"He's right, Duke. I'm starting to smell the damn godsflesh mushrooms. They're smoking it. Bunch of fools. They're going to fall in the ravine and kill themselves." Richard sighed, shaking his head.
"Curses!" Duke Farnsworth muttered.
He kept moving, with his men following. A few minutes later, they found a group of four — two men, two women, doing exactly as Alex and Richard had predicted. They sat in a circle on the floor of the cave, around a small fire. They drank from flasks, and seemed blissfully unaware of anything beyond the cave.
"Alright, everyone. Time to go." Duke Farnsworth said, firmly. "Get up. Put on your cloaks and capes, bundle up, and let's get moving."
"What? Who the hell are you to give us orders? You don't own the damn cave. Sod off!" a man with brown hair and eyes snapped.
"Wrong. This area is part of Nottingham County. My men and I are acting on behalf of the Sheriff of Nottingham." Duke Farnsworth said, sternly.
"Figures." the young man muttered. He sighed and shook his head.
"Told ye this was a bad idea, Rolf." the young blonde haired man sighed.
"What's the idea bringing ladies in here?" Duke Farnsworth demanded.
"Ha! That's sweet that the old ginger fellow thinks we're noblewomen, Sophi." a young woman with shiny, curly dark hair began to giggle. She held the pipe to her lips and applied the flame on the end of a stick she held in her opposite hand to it, and began to puff.
Duke Farnsworth exhaled sharply, shaking his head.
"Aye, Nesta. It is proper amusing." the other young lady laughed. She paused a moment and frowned. "Come on, Ness! Don't hoard the damn thing. Pass it!"
"Put the damn pipe down. Now!" Duke Farnsworth commanded, sharply.
"My! Are you a real grump!" Nesta shot back, disdainfully.
"Look, man. We're not hurting nobody. Why can't ye just let us be?" the young blonde haired man asked in a huff.
"For your own safety, it is best you be on your way. That path is challenging on a good day. There's a snowstorm happening. I don't see a wood supply waiting in here. If you end up stuck in here you'll freeze to death come sundown. Unless you're well familiar with this part of the forest, you'll be in trouble getting out of here without daylight." Duke Farnsworth stated, firmly.
"He's right. I damn near slipped and went flying over the edge of that cursed path." Alex added. He was exaggerating, but these people were too impaired to think straight and notice. "If not for the Captain and my comrade here, I wouldn't be telling you about it."
"Curses! I don't like the sounds of that." the fair maiden with reddish blonde hair sighed.
"Agreed, Sophi." the brunette maiden nodded. She turned to the brown haired fellow sitting to the right of her. "Let's go, Rolf. I'd rather face Madam Birghiva's wrath than die in a God-forsaken place like this."
"Ah. So, you ladies are her gals, then?" Duke Farnsworth asked.
"Indeed." the pretty brunette consort smiled. "I'm Nesta. This is Sophronia." she said, gesturing to the strawberry blonde maiden seated on her left. "Happy to be of service to you gentlemen anytime you're… feeling lonely." she winked, smirking at them.
"Hey!" Rolf admonished.
"Look at the mess you got us into! Bringing us out here in the freezing cold, just so you could get wasted, and get your jollies." Nesta huffed.
"It was ye whores that told us about this place!" the blonde haired man argued.
"Enough with your bollocks, for the love of Christ!" Duke Farnsworth shouted.
"Fine. We'll go." the blonde fellow relented. He stood and looked down to the group he was with. "Come on, everyone. If it's actually storming like they say, we best go and find somewhere warm."
"I think Sophi and I would like to return home now." Nesta said.
"She is correct." Sophronia nodded.
"You're not travelling on foot, I hope?" Richard asked.
"No. We brought our horses. The ladies rode behind us." Rolf said.
"Funny. I didn't see any horses." Alex shrugged.
"We secured them to trees about fifteen yards from the other side of the path." the blond man said. Then, as he began to move forward he started to slip. He was able to correct his footing, preventing a fall. "Those cursed rags that ginger bloke left in here! I keep slipping on the damn things!"
Duke Farnsworth narrowed his blue eyes and frowned. He pointed the torch toward the floor. There they were. Evidence the fugitive had been in here. Several bloodied rags were seen on the floor. They had moderate amounts of blood and a greenish fluid staining them. The Captain sighed and raised the torch.
"When was it you saw the ginger haired fellow who left the rags littered on the floor of this cave?" Duke Farnsworth asked, pointedly.
"It was when we came in here about two hours ago. He was leaving, and we passed him on the other side of that narrow path that leads in here." the man named Rolf said.
"He mustn't be too far, Duke. He's on foot." Alex said.
"Ha! If he didn't steal one of the horses these men brought." Richard added, nodding to Rolf and his blond haired mate.
"What's this about the fat ginger bloke taking one of our horses?" the blonde man demanded.
"Ease up, Basil. Did that man look to you like he could easily mount one right now?" Rolf scoffed.
"You saying you don't think he made it very far?" Richard asked.
"I'm guessing he could walk, but he seemed a little slow to move. I doubt he'd get himself up on a horse right now." Rolf said. He stood from his seated position.
The two ladies followed suit. Sophronia walked over to the Captain.
"So, since you work for the Sheriff, you must know Nigel, then?" she asked.
"Uh… yes." Duke Farnsworth nodded.
"What happened to him? Haven't seen him in ages. Probably since last mid winter." Sophronia shrugged.
"He's been away on assignment." Richard answered, smoothly.
"Oh, I see. That's too bad." Sophronia frowned.
"Indeed." the Captain sighed.
The blonde fellow began to douse the fire, then the group followed Duke Farnsworth and the men out of the cave. They all managed to get across the narrow path safely, despite the accumulated snow on the ground. Their horses were located precisely where they said they secured them. The two young men ended up thanking Duke Farnsworth for the warning. They mounted their horses with the ladies riding behind them, holding tightly to the men, then they headed to the road that would lead them out of the forest — the Great North Way.
The Sheriff had just exited his office and was walking swiftly along the main floor corridor in the castle. He had just donned his surcoat and was carrying his gauntlets. He was headed to the door, on his way to the stables to speak to Gervase when he noticed Slayer walking toward him, who was accompanied by Drake. Slayer was curiously carrying a large black leather drawstring sack.
"Slayer. Have you news?" the Sheriff asked.
"Good day, Milord. No. Not about that Thorne bloke, anyway. I've got it worked out with Charlie today. I'm free until tonight, which gives me time to look around for that crafty bloke, right?" Slayer said.
"Very good, Slayer." the Sheriff nodded. Then, he addressed Drake. "Did you really need to leave your post?"
"I thought it best to show Slayer inside, Milord. I'm returning now." Drake nodded, in obeisance to him.
"When Emory and Beric return prior to the gloaming, you and Adam are to remain there. We'll be joining you." the Sheriff instructed.
"What's happening then, Milord?"
"We're going to have a chat with Osworth and Finn. Who, oddly, I can't seem to recall for the life of me." he frowned.
"I know them, Milord. Finn seems alright. Not sure about Osworth, though, right? If… we're referring to the same Osworth. The one I know is a gangly looking bloke with curly ginger hair. Would that be about right?" Slayer asked.
"That's him." Drake said.
"Indeed, Draco. Kind of an odd bloke, right?" Slayer nodded.
"That will be all, Drake. I'll fill you in later." the Sheriff instructed. After Drake took his leave, he looked to Slayer. "What did you mean by your comments about the men you mentioned?"
"Finn seems like a decent bloke. He's only chummy with the wrong kind of mate. I've seen Osworth at the tavern." a beat. "Hmm. Come to think of it, think I might have seen him with a pair of those Brotherhood blokes." Slayer frowned.
"Why am I not surprised!" Nottingham huffed. "Can you name those you saw him with, Slayer?"
"One was that short bloke who tried to recruit me to their cursed cult, Milord. I think his name is Everard. There were a couple of others there, and Osworth was one of them. Not sure of the other bloke's name." Slayer shrugged.
"It wasn't that Finn fellow, was it?"
"No. That definitely wasn't Finn. The bloke looked old enough to be Finn's grandsire, right, in fairness." Slayer smirked.
"I see."
"Speaking of names, I'm here to report something else, Milord." Slayer said.
"What is that?"
"I had a chance to speak to two of my mates. The ones I referred to at the meeting on Monday about the City Watch roles, right? They are both keen to help, Milord." Slayer smiled.
"Splendid! Do we have their names?"
"Rykorus Wells, and Jasper Parry. I gave the names to the Scribe after our meeting the other day, but requested he give me time to have a word with them before they'd be contacted by you, right?" Slayer explained.
"I see. And, in your opinion, they're suited to the role?"
"Yes, Milord. They're solid blokes, right. They meet your requirements."
"Very good. Arrange a meeting with them. I'm trusting you know where to find them?" he asked.
"Yes, Milord."
"Good. Tell them to come tomorrow at midday. I'll see them in the Council Quarters, along with my Lieutenant, and at least one of my Advisors. Will you be bringing them?" the Sheriff asked.
"I can, Milord. I'm not due at the tavern until late afternoon on the morrow." Slayer nodded.
"Good. Bring them to me then, Slayer."
"It will be done, Milord. I've another one in mind, but I haven't had the chance to speak to him yet. The Scribe has his name, too."
"Right. Whom is it, Slayer?"
"It's Syrtrick Benwicke. He covers my duties at the tavern on my off days." Slayer said.
"Good. Once you speak to him, tell him I must meet with him."
"I will, Milord. Any ideas where you'd like me to refine my search for that escapee bloke today? Hope the hell he didn't hop on the back of someone's wagon, or steal a horse. Can't understand why he left his own horse in the first place?" Slayer shrugged.
"Check the area around where that cursed warehouse was before we burned it to the ground. Also, check the Inn. I've got eyes on his wife today, who will hopefully lead my men to his home. If he's not seeking aid from her, he might have checked in there. Doubtful he'd choose to make a camp somewhere in this weather. The bloke didn't look like the hardy outdoorsman variety to me." Nottingham smirked.
"I would concur, Milord, right?" Slayer scoffed. He paused a moment, then straightened his expression. "Is there word about… Nigel, Milord?"
"He's holding on. As far as I know, he's been sleeping since around the witching hour."
"Was… the arrow removed from him?" Slayer asked with a shudder.
"Yes, and he was stitched back up after that." the Sheriff nodded.
"That's good to hear. I hope he pulls through." Slayer said, then looked down to the sack he carried in his hand. "Oh! I almost forgot. Charlie gave me this to give to Luke, Milord. Would you see that he gets this?" he asked, passing the sack to him.
The Sheriff took it from him, looking to him, curiously.
"What is it, Slayer? Did he leave something behind?"
"No. Those are the tips the patrons donated to him last night for the great performance he gave, right?" Slayer chuckled.
"I see." the Sheriff grinned.
Just then, the Scribe came scurrying toward them coming from the direction of the front doors.
"Milord Sheriff!" the Scribe said urgently, as he approached.
"Yes, Scribe. What has you running about?"
"You have a visitor, Milord."
"Someone here to see Nigel?" the Sheriff asked.
"No, Milord. Prince John has just arrived." the Scribe announced.
"Can't imagine what this is about. He was supposed to be entertaining his wife at his manse in Newerche." Nottingham sighed. "This is a bad time for him to be seen in the Village." Nottingham frowned.
At this juncture, the Prince was walking toward them, coming behind the Scribe. He was escorted by Drake. He smiled as he approached. His flashy deep wine coloured velvet surcoat featuring shiny gold embroidery waved and billowed behind him as he moved
"Ah, George. I'm glad you're here." Prince John said when he stopped in front of them.
"Indeed, Your Highness." the Sheriff nodded. Then, he looked to Drake. "You need to return to your post, Drake." he said, sternly.
"Yes, Mil — "
"Ease up on him, George. I asked him to show me in." Prince John said. He turned to Drake. "Thank you, Drake. Tell Bardolph I won't be long."
"Of course, Your Highness." Drake bowed in deference to him, then took his leave of them.
"And, how nice to see Slayer and Percival again." the Prince smiled at them both.
"Likewise, Your Highness. I was just on my way." Slayer nodded. He looked to the Sheriff. "If I find him I shall return, Milord. Otherwise I shall see you on the morrow when I bring Rykorus and Jasper to you. And, as soon as I can, right, I'll speak to Rick."
"Rick?" the Sheriff asked, curiously.
"Syrtrick, Milord. He also goes by Rick." Slayer nodded.
"Perfect, Slayer. I appreciate your assistance in these matters." the Sheriff said.
Slayer nodded and took his leave.
"I'll leave you now, too. Good to see you again, Your Highness." the Scribe said.
"Indeed, Percival." Prince John smiled.
The Scribe nodded to them both, then went on his way.
"I thought you'd be kept occupied with your wife, Your Highness?" the Sheriff asked.
"Good news, friend. She's not expected until the morrow now. And, she won't be extending her stay with me as a result of the change. Isn't that grand?" Prince John grinned.
"I suppose it is, in your case. What brings you out to see me on such a wintery day?" the Sheriff asked, curiously.
"Yes. Right. We might have a problem, friend."
"Come. Let's speak in the Council Quarters." Nottingham suggested.
The Prince agreed and followed him inside the meeting chamber. Once the Sheriff closed the door, he turned to the Prince.
"A problem? What kind of a problem?" he asked, curiously.
"I've heard from Geoffrey Fitz Peter. He is the Justiciar of England, as you know." Prince John began.
"Indeed. What is it you're getting at?"
"A group of marauders slowly making their way down from York are… causing problems." Prince John frowned.
"Splendid! More trouble." Nottingham huffed. "What is their issue, specifically?" he walked over to the desk and placed the leather sack inside a large drawer there, then walked back toward the Prince.
"My brother, it turns out. They are on their way to London. Geoffrey says it's a guess where and when they will strike while they're en route. They may only pass through here, as they're concentrated on getting to London. Geoffrey has alerted the necessary officials. I'm sure you'll be receiving a missive from him, too, but I thought it best to alert you immediately. We must be vigilant, George." Prince John said.
"Indeed. Doesn't that fall under the responsibility of the Sheriff of York to take control over those marauders before they left York County?"
"Yes, well, my late father's bastard child, Geoffrey Plantagenet, has proven to be nothing but a giant thorn in our backsides, friend. What the hell good is it to have an Archbishop in a position such as that, anyway?" the Prince frowned, shaking his head.
"You do raise a good point." Nottingham said.
"He is unfit for it. Richard is looking to appoint Geoffrey Fitz Peter as Sheriff of York in the coming year, which I fully support. Out with the bad, in with the good, I say." Prince John scoffed.
"Of course. Well, good thing we're expanding the City Watch team. That's one of the things I was discussing with Slayer." the Sheriff said.
"Oh? Care to expound on that?"
"Of course. I'm meeting with two candidates for the role tomorrow at midday. Slayer is bringing them here."
"Hmm. So, that will potentially raise those numbers to four."
"Slayer has another man in mind he plans to speak to about it, so, hopefully we shall meet him, as well. I'm also expecting to hear from Gregor about his brother possibly joining that team." the Sheriff said.
"Gregor?"
"You know him, Prince John. The Tax Collector." the Sheriff said.
"Ah, yes. Splendid! I'm pleased to hear that venture is doing well, George."
"Indeed."
"The City Watch team can be your eyes should these marauders come through here with plans to burn things and plunder. Let us hope they're already imprisoned in one of the other counties, or that you capture them should they make it this far." the Prince said with a knowing quirk of his brow.
"Of course." the Sheriff nodded. He looked down briefly and sighed. As if there isn't enough to deal with around here!
"I'll be at my manse for a time, George. Do let me know if you'll need reinforcements."
"I will." Nottingham said.
"Is everything still in place for Friday evening?"
"Indeed, Prince John. The guest list is growing. My top warrior was damn near mortally injured last night. He's been tended to, and is recovering now. It turns out, Friday is his birthday, so as long as he is fit for it, he and some other of my men will also be joining us. There shall be some light entertainment, as well." the Sheriff explained.
"Marvellous, friend! That sounds delightful. I'm looking forward to it." Prince John smiled.
"I'm relieved to hear you approve of that, Prince John." he said.
"Of course, George. We'll have a fine feast and celebration. A merry time, I'm sure."
"Indeed. Was there anything else you wished to discuss?"
"No. That covers it. It looks like you were heading out. I mustn't keep you. The snow isn't letting up out there, so I will be on my way." Prince John said.
"I'll walk you out. I was just headed to the stables. You best mind yourself out there." the Sheriff cautioned him.
"Indeed. Likewise for you." Prince John added.
Then, the two men left the meeting chamber and walked toward the front doors.
Nichol arrived to the manor. He brought the Page with him to help him unload the wood for obvious reasons, as well as a chance for the lad to earn some extra coins.
"Wait here, Page. I'll be back directly." Nichol instructed before he climbed down from the driver's seat.
"Yes, Sir." the lad nodded.
Nichol walked the cobblestone path to the door and knocked on it.
"My goodness! Who would be venturing out here in this weather?" Nichol heard a woman exclaim from inside the manor.
He sighed. That wasn't Kaeliss speaking.
The door opened and Helewise greeted him with a curious frown on her face as she narrowed her brown eyes upon him.
"Good morrow. I'm here to see — "
"Bah! Nothing good about this day with frightful weather such as this!" Helewise huffed. She pushed some stray silver tendrils from her face. Her hair was fashioned in a bun, but it appeared she'd been kept busy.
"Right. I'm sure what I'm here to see her about shall benefit you, as well." Nichol smiled.
"Really? We shall see about that." Helewise scoffed. She turned her head and began to call out. "Milady Kaeliss! You're needed at the door."
"What? Who is here?" Kaeliss asked. She came into view behind her lady servant. "Thank you, Helewise. That will be all. I'll take it from here."
"Don't be long, Milady. You'll catch a dreadful chill." Helewise advised, then she went on her way.
"Nichol. Wasn't expecting to see you so soon." Kaeliss said.
"Yes. I've brought something for you, my lady." Nichol smiled.
"Oh? What is it? Whom is that young lad waiting at the wagon you brought with you?" she asked, nodding behind him to the young lad in the distance who was seated atop the wagon.
"He's helping me, my dear. He is the Sheriff's Page."
"Why would you need help, Nichol?"
"Because he's going to help me unload the wagon."
"What? What on earth is in the wagon?" Kaeliss asked.
"Lots of wood, Kaeliss. You're going to need it to keep you warm this day. I brought something else, too, but the wood is my first priority."
"Oh, my! Where'd you get it? No doubt people are buying up loads of it from local woodsmen — "
"I chopped and split the wood this morning. We had a large supply of logs out back." Nichol said.
"What? Nichol!" Kaeliss exclaimed. "You shouldn't have went to all of that trouble."
"I couldn't bear the thought of you freezing in here, my lady. We won't be long." he smiled as he kissed her cheek. "We'll bring plenty of it inside, then you can direct us where to put the rest of it."
"Thank you, Nichol. That's very thoughtful of you." Kaeliss smiled.
"It is nothing, my lady. As long as you're mine, I will endeavour to make sure you're looked after." Nichol smiled. Then, he turned and headed back to the wagon.
Kaeliss stood at the door, observing him. She pulled her white cashmere shawl close around her. She wore a teal coloured velvet gown underneath it. She looked a vision to Nichol when he looked back to her when he got to the wagon. Her shiny chestnut hair, which she had braided and fashioned upon her head with a ribbon threaded through it to match her gown, and the lovely colours she wore blended perfectly with the falling snow, and the soft fallen snow that was now blanketing the ground, the trees, and covering the roofs of Kaeliss' manor, and the stables.
He wished to never forget exactly how she looked in this moment, so he stood watching her a few moments. He smiled and slightly waved with his free right hand, so she wouldn't be unnerved by him staring, beguiled by her beauty. He wished Richard was here. If he were, Nichol would ask him to sketch this scene, then bring colour to it with paint, later. Nichol sighed, then turned to his right.
"Alright, lad. Let's get started. I've only got one arm to work with, you may have noticed. We've a number of rooms to get that wood distributed to." Nichol said, firmly.
"Yes, Sir." the young blonde haired lad nodded. He jumped down from the wagon and went to the back of it to begin his task.
Lady Kaeliss was cross with him this morning for asking such a personal question, but now she smiled as she watched he and the Sheriff's Page begin to grab armfuls of wood and carry it to her; her lover struggling using only one arm as his other used the walking stick. She leaned against the door frame, sighing contentedly as she watched them approach. She held the door for them, as they entered inside.
"Where would you like this, Milady?" the Page asked, nodding to the wood held in his arms.
"In the sitting room, please. I'll take it from there." Kaeliss said.
"No, you will not, my lady. I know there's fireplaces upstairs, too." Nichol began.
The Page looked to Nichol, curiously, then looked to the floor as he shifted uncomfortably.
"I won't have you hauling this wood up the damn stairs, Kaeliss. We will take care of it." Nichol said, firmly.
"There's really no need — "
"We've got it, my lady. Do not argue with me." Nichol smirked.
"Very well." Kaeliss nodded, a warm smile upon her face. "It's really no bother, Nichol." she added, subtly nodding to his left leg.
"It's quite fine. Do not give it another thought." he smiled. He nodded for the Page to follow him.
A few moments later, they encountered Helewise in the corridor of the second floor. She was carrying folded fluffy towels and other linens in her arms.
"Direct me to your chambers, Madam. We brought wood for you and Lady Kaeliss." Nichol said.
Helewise narrowed her eyes, suspiciously at him.
"What is your game?" she demanded.
"There's no game, Madam. If you'll kindly answer the question, that would be — "
"Nobleman, huh? That's what Milady said about you when I first met you. What is it you… do, again?" the women asked with a questioning quirk of her brow.
"Currently, Advisor and Chief Weapons Trainer for the Sheriff of Nottingham. Formerly, his Captain of the Black Knights. That position doesn't work for me anymore." Nichol said, dryly.
"I see." she sighed.
"Look, Madam. We have much more wood to unload from the wagon we brought. Kindly direct us, so that we may begin." Nichol said, firmly.
"It's down the corridor. Fourth door on the left." Helewise relented with a sigh.
"Good." Nichol nodded.
"I trust I don't need to remind you of where to find Milady's chambers?" Helewise asked, sarcastically.
"Indeed, Madam. Such a memorable moment has every detail of it etched in my mind, including where to find her rooms." Nichol smirked.
The Page raised his eyebrow, surprised by Nichol's comment.
"I see." Helewise said, curtly.
Nichol nodded for the Page to continue down the corridor with him.
"Sir? Would it not be best if I took some wood to that old lady's rooms, and you take your pile to Milady's chambers, since you know where they are?" the Page quietly suggested as they walked toward the lady servant's rooms.
"No. We'll get Helewise from Hell stocked up in there, first. Otherwise you'll need more than one trip to her rooms. Best to limit contact with the nosy woman." Nichol whispered.
"Oh. Alright." the Page nodded.
After they unloaded the wood by the fireplace in Helewise's chambers, they encountered her again in the corridor. This time her arms were folded. It seemed she'd put the various linens in their rightful places. Nichol sighed as he walked toward her.
"How is it you became acquainted with Milady Kaeliss?" she asked him when he stopped a few feet in front of her.
"Does my lady know you like to meddle in her affairs?" Nichol sighed.
"Milady Kaeliss is still impressionable, in my opinion. She has no one to guide her. Alas, her parents are deceased. There's a sister in London, but distance is a problem there. As for local relatives, her aunt has her own hands full with that insufferable daughter of hers. True, the young lady grieves, but she's always been insufferable. Anyway, I try my best to look out for the lady. Someone needs to." Helewise said, firmly.
"I see." Nichol said. "In answer to your question, Milady was dutifully reporting criminal activity the first time I met her, when I was out on assignment with the Sheriff and three of his men. Our paths crossed once again, days later, when she once again reported suspicious activity."
"I see." Helewise nodded.
"I appreciate your concern for her. I care for her, as well. Good day, Madam." Nichol nodded, then continued toward the stairs.
After the Sheriff saw Prince John to his ornate, gilded carriage, and Bardolph guided the carriage toward the portcullis, the Sheriff walked over to the stables. He entered inside, and Gervase was swift to respond.
"Good morrow, Milord Sheriff. Shall I saddle your horse for you?" Gervase asked, while quickly approaching him.
"No. That's not necessary at this time. I need to talk to you about Faramond, Gervase." the Sheriff began.
"Oh, I see. What about him, Milord?"
"What can you tell me about him? How long have you known him?" the Sheriff asked.
"I met him about six months ago, Milord. We attend the same church, you see."
"Which church is that, Gervase?"
"The Church of the Holy Trinity, Milord." Gervase nodded.
"Naturally." Nottingham muttered, facetiously.
"Milord?"
"Hmm. Only six months." the Sheriff said.
"Yes, Milord. We soon discovered we had things in common. Horses being one of them." Gervase explained.
"Would you know of any other affiliations he might have?"
"I know that he attends meetings. Not sure what that's about. I think other men from church attend them, too. Every other Thursday in the evenings, Milord." Gervase said.
"Interesting."
"What is, Milord?"
"You sure you know nothing about that? You've never attended one of those meetings with him?"
"No, Milord. He tried to get me to accompany him once. They started these meetings sometime in August, I think. But, that's around the time I met my lady friend, Orella. I see her on Thursday evenings, among other nights, for a fine meal. She's a very good cook, Milord." Gervase smiled.
"I'm sure, Gervase. So, you're unaware of what goes on at these meetings?" Nottingham asked, pointedly.
"I thought it was some kind of bible study, or something, since… Father Tuttle is always in attendance. I get enough of that on Sundays, Milord. I've no need for further study, especially when I'd much rather be spending that time with my Orella." Gervase smiled, with a knowing wink.
"Indeed." Nottingham scoffed. "Very well. Thank you, Gervase. You've been most helpful."
"Of course, Milord." Gervase nodded, though he wasn't sure what exactly he just helped the Sheriff with?
Nichol and the Page finished distributing the wood inside Lady Kaeliss' manor about a half hour after stocking Helewise's rooms, and took the rest of it to a small shed in back of the manor. After that, the Page waited at the wagon, and Nichol went to the front door again to give one more thing to Kaeliss.
"Some mead to also keep you warm, my lady." Nichol smiled as he passed a jug to her.
"Oh, my! Thank you, Nichol." Kaeliss smiled as she took it from him. "I'm puzzled about one thing, however. How did you know I was in need of wood?"
"Because I noticed a meagre supply of it in your sitting room, and also in your chambers when I was here last night, my dear." Nichol said.
"Oh, I see. Of course, you would notice a detail such as that." Kaeliss scoffed.
"Indeed, Kaeliss. I'm pleased to bring it to you. I feel much better knowing you'll be kept warm over here."
"You're a good man, Nichol. I'm overwhelmed by your thoughtfulness." a beat. "Forgive me for being rude to you this morning when you… asked that question." she sighed and looked downcast.
"Say no more, my love. It is behind us." Nichol smiled.
"No. You need to know. I thought I… loved him. But, he was a dastardly scoundrel, Nichol. He was playing me — and playing his wife, it turned out. Like a damn harp! Once I found out I was only a bleeding appetizer to him, I put a damn stop to it!" Kaeliss huffed.
"I'm sorry you endured that, beautiful." Nichol said softly, caressing her cheek with his right hand.
"And, you just called me 'my love', Nichol." Kaeliss smiled.
"I did, didn't I? Probably because… you are."
"Nichol." she whispered.
"Hold unto that thought, my love." Nichol said. Then, he leaned in and softly kissed her lips.
At the end of it, she looked up at him and smirked.
"The Page might have just seen that, Nichol."
"Whatever! I care not. You shouldn't, either, my lady."
"Very well." she nodded.
"If I don't see you tonight, I shall see you on the morrow, my dear. If that is agreeable with you?"
"Of course, it is. You are welcome anytime." Kaeliss smiled.
"Stay warm and safe, beautiful. I will see you soon." Nichol said, softly.
Then, he took his leave of her.
Things were progressing quite nicely in the ale tent at the Village market. Luke and Castor found a table far enough away to maintain a working distance from the rest of the customers who were merrily imbibing, chatting, and laughing. This bode rather well for them once the ale arrived to the table which they couldn't avoid ordering. They covered for each other and held the mugs in their hands, taking turns tossing most of their ale under the table. Then, Luke covered for Castor when he discreetly topped up their mugs with the water from his calfskin flask.
They were glad to be out of the wind, seated inside the heavy canvas tent. Several cauldrons blazing with contained fires were strategically placed throughout to provide warmth. The men faked sipping from their mugs as they spoke quietly about various topics.. After some time had passed, they were approached by two men.
"Mind if we join you?" a tall dark haired man asked, nodding to the fit bald fellow beside him.
"Suit yourself." Luke shrugged. He was playing along, just as Ancel had coached him before. He was glad they made the decision to stay out of uniform this day.
They started by speaking about inconsequential things. A couple of finds the strangers had purchased at the market, and the surprising winter storm that came upon them. The strangers ordered another round of ale for themselves. Once their mugs were brought to them and they started in on drinking them, they surprised Luke and Castor with the direction they took the conversation next.
"You two are highwaymen, aren't you? Don't think I've seen you around?" the dark haired stranger mused, rubbing his chin. He looked to his friend. "What do you think, mate? Have you seen them before?"
"No. I don't think so." his friend said, shaking his head.
"Yeah. We're not from around here." Castor said, then sipped of his very diluted ale.
"Indeed. A long way from home." Luke agreed.
"Hmm. How far are we talking about?" the dark haired stranger asked.
"Originally, far in the north; but — " Luke began, but was cut off.
"But, we never stay in one place long enough to call it home. We've been here, there, and everywhere ever since." Castor added, smoothly.
"Tell him, Sid. I'd wager they'd be interested to join us tomorrow night." the bald fellow goaded his friend.
"Join you… where?" Luke asked.
"At a meeting… of sorts. Kind of a… social thing. You know? Welcome the newcomers into town sort of thing. A 'meet your neighbours' affair." the dark haired man said.
"Really? Is this about that thing… Father Tuttle heads up?" Luke whispered. "We heard about it. But, wasn't he captured?"
"Indeed. Gunter ended up taking over. He's supposed to be there tomorrow night, but… no one's seen him since last night. A few hours after sundown was the last sighting." the bald man said, quietly.
"Oh. Isn't that a shame, Lucas?" Castor said to Luke. Then, he looked to the men. "We were hoping to meet him."
"Indeed. I'm Sygrid. And, this is Ingram." the dark haired man said, nodding to his friend. "Who are you, by the way?"
"I'm Gryffen." Castor said.
Luke looked to Castor, curiously, then sipped of the diluted ale before he spoke.
"Lucas." Luke said, softly. "Where is this meeting happening? Is there a specific time we should be there, Sygrid?"
"Normally, they're held in an old abandoned warehouse." Sygrid said, quietly. "But — "
"Seems it's been burned. Hope the hell Gunter wasn't trapped in there. There's nothing left of the damn thing!" Ingram exclaimed in a whisper. He took a swill of his ale, and shook his head.
"No!" Castor exclaimed.
"So, we're gathering at the church instead." Sygrid said.
"Church?" Castor asked.
"The one Father Tuttle was in charge of before the damn Sheriff got him!" Sygrid sighed.
"Aye, but… which one? There's more than one church around here, isn't there?" Castor asked.
"We weren't sure of the exact church Father Tuttle was affiliated with." Luke added.
"I see. It's the Church of the Holy Trinity." Sygrid said, then took a generous swill of ale from his mug.
"Very well." Luke nodded.
"Originally, the next meeting wasn't scheduled until next week, but… in light of recent events, Gunter suggested we move that date up by a sennight. And, now that he's missing, the change in schedule is even more crucial." Sygrid added.
"Oh. I can imagine." Luke nodded, then took a sip of the diluted ale. He knew there'd be a good deal of planning needed amongst these blokes, with an incursion scheduled in a fortnight.
"We generally meet a few hours past sundown." Ingram said.
"Grand. Should we bring anything?" Castor asked.
"Really?" Sygrid scoffed.
"You know. Since… it's some sort of party, you said." Luke pointed out, then shrugged.
"Oh. Right. No. There's no need. There shall be plenty of refreshments and victuals provided." Sygrid smirked.
"Indeed, Sid." Ingram chuckled.
"Sounds intriguing. Perhaps we shall drop by? See what all the fuss is about." Luke said. "Are you expecting a large crowd?"
"Usually, it would be. Not this one, though. Many of them are holding out for Gunter to lead us, and the rest disagree with the venue choice." Sygrid said.
"That's one of the topics we'll be covering — a suitable discreet location for future… parties." Ingram said.
"Of course." Luke nodded.
"Ye sure it will be alright? We don't want to intrude." Castor asked.
"It will be fine, Gryffen." Ingram said.
"Good. We look forward to it, then." Luke smiled.
A short time later, after the two Brotherhood blokes left them, Luke and Castor arose from their seats and made their way out of the ale tent. The crisp wintery air hit their faces, instantly removing the memory of warmth. The snow was still falling heavily, but they didn't mind. Their task was complete. Not without a few hiccups, but their patience with that paid off.
"Jesus! I can't believe how gullible they were. They damn near spilled everything, Luke!" Castor quietly remarked with a chuckle.
"I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it for myself. Do you think they were playing us, Cas?"
"Could be. Surely, they're not that stupid, are they? Real criminals would never get anything accomplished if they acted like those two. They openly advertised that dumb cult!"
"Which is why I'm wondering if they were playing us." Luke sighed.
"Indeed." Castor nodded.
"Either way, whoever is at that church tomorrow night will have some unexpected company. Let's make haste. We have much to tell Milord Sheriff." Luke instructed.
"Glad we don't have far to go. It's brutal out here." Castor muttered.
"How did you come up with the name 'Gryffen', by the way?" Luke asked, curiously.
"My father is Gryffen. Couldn't think of another name so quickly, so I went with that." Castor shrugged.
"I see. It's a good name, Cas." Luke smiled.
"Indeed. Better than mine is." Castor sighed.
"Don't be silly, Castor. It's a fine name." Luke smiled.
"Cheers, mate. I still disagree, but I appreciate ye saying so." Castor said.
The men sent to the Rainecourt manor had followed Thorne's wife several miles farther toward Nettlestone. She finally stopped at a property where a modest sized manor was located, a couple of miles from the heart of the Village. They guided their horses to a line of trees on the edge of the property and stopped, dismounting from their horses and securing them. They watched a stable master come to lead the horses and wagon away. Then, the lady walked slowly toward the door. She lost her footing and nearly fell a couple of times. Then, she went inside the manor.
"Now, what?" Gerad asked. "We still don't know if the bloke is in there."
"You'd think if he was there he would've met with her to at least assist her to the door. She nearly went flying." Mordrid pointed out.
"Not sure if that was due to weather conditions, or her condition, but he should have been there." Ancel added.
"We're going to have to peer into the windows. We won't know if he's there if we don't take a look." Mordrid said.
"Indeed. There's no other way." Ancel agreed.
"All of us?" Gerad asked.
"Ancel and I will do it. You stay here and keep watch, Gerad." Mordrid instructed. He reached into the pocket of his surcoat and extracted his spyglass, then passed it to him.
"Very well." Gerad nodded as he took it from Mordrid.
Gerad stayed back to mind the horses and keep watch, as the other two men stealthily ran toward the manor. They both chose to look through windows on either side of the manor, and in back of it before Ancel peered into a front window. Fifteen minutes later, they returned to Gerad.
"Anything?" Gerad quietly asked.
Both of the men shook their heads.
"There's no one else inside of there that I could tell." Ancel shrugged.
"I watched that lady sit in a chair by the fire in the sitting room, and weep. What sort of husband wouldn't comfort their wife at a time like that?" Mordrid pointed out to them.
"I don't think he's there." Ancel said.
"I know he isn't. I heard her at one point say in between sobs, "Gunter, where are you?". I don't think she's going to be much help to us." Mordrid sighed.
"But, he could still show." Gerad said, softly.
"Indeed, Gerad. So, we must wait a time to see if that happens." Mordrid nodded.
"Sounds fair. How long do you want to give it, Mordrid?" Gerad asked.
"At least a couple of hours." Mordrid said.
"Very well." Gerad said.
"Good plan. Hope she'll be alright. Poor lady. Being stuck with a man like him." Ancel added.
"Indeed. At least she is warm now." Mordrid said.
Isabelle was standing at her window and gazing out of it, smiling at the beautiful wintery scene before her. She had always thought that freshly fallen snow was quite lovely. She wanted to walk in it later when the snowfall stopped, but she looked down to her belly, patted it and frowned.
"Why on earth is it so big at this stage?" she muttered to herself. She sighed, shaking her head.
The only way to hide it if nothing happened to stop this was to wear her cape. She couldn't wear her cape indoors, so she grabbed her soft ivory woollen shawl to wrap around her, using the ends of it to drape in the front of her navy wool and cotton blend gown. Then, she walked to her door. She took a breath and stepped out of her chambers. There was only one solution she could think of for now.
Madam Oberon was a little surprised when she answered the knock at her door. She greeted the lady with a warm smile, wearing a lovely wine coloured wool blend gown.
"Bon après-midi, mon cher. What can I do for you?" Madam Oberon asked in her cheerful mellifluous voice.
"I need… your help, Madam Oberon." Isabelle frowned.
"Oh, cher. Why the long face? Do come in, s'il vous plaît." the Seamstress said, motioning for the lady to enter as she held the door.
Isabelle smiled ruefully, and stepped inside.
"Now, mon cher, what is it I can do for you? How about a lovely cup of tea to begin? You're looking a trifle pale." Madam Oberon suggested, after she had closed the door.
"I suppose it wouldn't hurt. That would be nice." Isabelle smiled.
Madam Oberon nodded and turned to leave the room. A few moments later, she returned carrying a tray, upon which a small pot and two cups were placed. She set the tray on a table, and motioned for Isabelle to seat herself.
Isabelle took a seat in one of the chairs in the salon, while Madam Oberon poured from the pot, then passed her a cup of steaming hot tea.
"Thank you." Isabelle smiled when she took it from her.
"Be at ease, mon cher. You appear as wound up as a harp string." Madam Oberon said. She seated herself in a chair across from Isabelle, and sipped of her tea.
"Yes. Perhaps… I am." Isabelle nodded, then tasted of the soothing tea.
"What brings you by, Dame Isabelle?"
"I need… a couple of new gowns. Or, maybe more than that? I don't know. Three? Or… maybe… yes. Yes, you could just… perhaps… adjust some of the ones I have?" Isabelle stammered.
"Pardon, mon cher?" Madam Oberon asked, bewildered by the lady's visible nervousness. Madam Oberon had never noticed this about her before.
"What do you call it when the waist of the gown is… well, it's not there. At all? It's like… it's way up, directly under the… bust? You know what I mean, surely, Madam? No waist at all, and the fabric just… flows freely all the way down to the hem of the skirt?" Isabelle asked.
"Ah! Oui. It's an empire waist, mon cher." Madam Oberon nodded, then took a sip from her cup.
"Grand! I need… a few gowns that look like that." Isabelle nodded. Then, she frowned. "Or… maybe I could just bring you a few of mine I need altered and… and you could adjust them accordingly?" she mused.
"Really? Whatever for?"
"Because… because… curses! I am… getting fat, Madam Oberon." Isabelle stated, flatly. She frowned, then looked to her lap and shook her head. Her golden blonde hair shimmered by the light of the torches behind her.
The Seamstress wondered if Isabelle had applied a drop of fragranced oil to her hair, as she had taught her. That distracted her from the first thought that came to mind: what was Dame Isabelle talking about?
Isabelle had always liked her slender, yet slightly curvy, comely figure. She had never felt so huge in her life as she did of late. She wondered how Robert never seemed to notice this… strange and clumsy size she had become, in her opinion.
"Quoi?" the Seamstress asked while slowly shaking her head.
"I must have… indulged too much at Rhiannon's wedding fete. And now… oh, my!" she exclaimed, then began to speak rapidly. "I'm expected at a dining engagement on Friday even. The Prince, and his wife, the Countess of Gloucester will be there, and… I'm going to look like a right fright if we cannot get this sorted!" Isabelle lamented. She sighed, then took another sip of the soothing tea.
Madam Oberon raised a curious eyebrow over her lovely twinkling blue eyes, bemused by Lady Isabelle's peculiar demeanour. She exhaled a soft sigh, then started to make a suggestion.
"Mon cher, we must measure you ag — "
"No!" Isabelle replied, firmly. She pulled the edges of her shawl down to adequately cover the front of her gown.
"I cannot work blindly, Dame Isabelle. If I don't know what I'm working with I can't promise the gowns will fit properly. We would only be wasting time." Madam Oberon explained.
"Couldn't you just add… about four or five inches to sufficiently cover everything from below the bust to the tops of my thighs?" Isabelle suggested.
"I highly doubt you've gained that much weight in just over a sennight, mon cher." Madam Oberon smiled.
"But… I have! You don't understand!"
"Dame Isa — "
"I feel like I've gained at least a stone!" Isabelle exclaimed.
"In a sennight? You just blamed it on what you ingested at the wedding fete — eight days ago. No one gains an entire stone in a sennight, mon cher. Mon Dieu!" Madam Oberon pointed out, shaking her head. Her silver hair, fashioned in a lovely signature chignon, glinted by the light of torches and candles in the room.
"But… Madam Ober — "
"Do not fret. T'will be alright. Come. Set that cup down, and let's get you properly measured." Madam Oberon instructed. She stood from her chair, gesturing for Isabelle to follow her.
"What? No!" Isabelle argued.
"We must, Dame Isabelle. You want to look your best on Friday evening, non? Come. You're making such a fuss, mon cher."
Isabelle exhaled sharply.
"Dame Isabelle?"
"Fine. Please, not a word to anyone about… how stout I'm looking." Isabelle said as she finally relented and stood from her seat.
"Of course. Come. To the back. Everything off except your chemise."
"Thank God!"
"Pardon?"
"It is nothing." Isabelle sighed.
A short time later, she had her arms raised above her, as the Seamstress measured around her bust line.
"Oh, cher. There's an inch added here, as well." Madam Oberon muttered.
"What?" Isabelle exclaimed, incredulously.
"Never mind that, mon cher. Be at ease now and rest your arms at your sides. Let's measure around your bodice." Madam Oberon said, gently.
Arianna Oberon knew exactly what the cause was as soon as she measured the bust, but she said nothing. It was obvious the lady wished to keep her delicate state a secret.
The Seamstress wrapped her measuring tape around Isabelle's bodice, then her waist and her hips. She removed the measuring tape and hung it around her neck, then sauntered over to a table where parchment, a jar of ink, and a quill were at the ready. She dipped the quill in the ink jar, then jotted down the new measurements.
"Well? Can this be done, Madam Oberon?" Isabelle asked.
"Oui, Dame Isabelle. Now, before we discuss the possibility of altering some gowns you already have, let's talk about what you have in mind for Friday. A fabric choice, and a colour preference would be a good place to start."
"I was thinking a nice blue velvet." Isabelle smiled.
"Oui. You seem to favour that colour. Very well." she nodded. "I have a variety of shades, and two different varieties of velvet."
"Isn't velvet just… velvet? As in… one variety?"
"Non. One is the more common kind, the other is called brushed velvet. Both are very soft, but I find the brushed velvet gives off a better sheen when it's near light. You shall… glow, mon cher. Trust me. I've a lovely soft blue one in mind for you." Madam Oberon smiled.
"Delightful! But… wouldn't a navy colour be a better choice to… hide me?" Isabelle asked.
"Non, but that's up to you. I can tell you that you won't need to hide. Je te rendrai belle." Madam Oberon smiled.
"Pardon, Madam?"
"Ah! Oui. I will make you beautiful. You shall look and feel belle, mon cher."
"I'm sure. And… I guess I already feel… belle. Because… that's what my husband calls me. Belle." Isabelle smiled.
"How lovely, mon cher!"
"Yes. Now, will altering a few of the gowns I already own be difficult?"
"Non. There's an issue of timing, however. It can be done, but altering gowns takes more time. I can have a new gown made for your event on Friday, and have a gown of your choosing altered and refashioned for that same day. Any others you want altered will take a few extra days. Possibly a sennight, depending on how many more you wish for me to alter. I shall do my best to repurpose the fabric comprising the skirt and the bodice, but I may need to add all new fabric below the bust. As well, the sleeves may need adjusting." Madam Oberon explained.
"Oh, I see." Isabelle said. "Great. I'll have a look through my wardrobe and decide which ones need altering. I'll bring the first one by later."
"Bon! Now, you get dressed and I'll retrieve the shades of blue velvet and brushed velvet fabrics to show you. And, after that, I have something else to show to you." Madam Oberon hinted.
"Very well. What is it you wish to show me?" Isabelle asked, curiously.
"Something I think you'll appreciate right now, since it's getting colder. Will you be seeing Dames Rhiannon and Meridwyn this day? They seem to be occupied of late."
"Yes, I expect I will." Isabelle nodded.
"Bon! I will explain when I show it to you — after you are dressed. You should do that now, mon cher. You mustn't catch a chill." Madam Oberon advised.
Isabelle nodded and pulled the curtain around her to begin dressing.
Madam Oberon sighed softly and frowned. It wasn't that long ago, not much longer than a fortnight she measured Lady Isabelle for the gown that was made for Lady Rhiannon's wedding. The measurements she had just taken startled her. There was quite a difference in the bust and girth already. Madam Oberon hoped there was nothing amiss with the child that Lady Isabelle was obviously carrying.
At this point in time, Robert had come from the armoury. He found the Sheriff speaking to Sir Guy on the main floor in the corridor.
"If it keeps snowing like this, maybe I should go out and build a snowman for the wee laddie to look at, Cousin." Guy remarked with a chuckle.
"I doubt he would care at this point, Gis; but I like your optimism — thinking you'd have time for such nonsense." the Sheriff scoffed.
"God. You're not going to be one of those serious, boring old fathers, are you?" Guy asked, genuinely.
"Hmm. Well, I suppose the old part is a given since this was never on my agenda. Serious? Yes, I suppose I am. Boring? No." he scoffed.
"Not now, but… as he ages, so shall you, Cousin."
"Thank you for that most enlightening arithmetic lesson, Gis." the Sheriff remarked facetiously with a sigh.
Right." Guy said, dismissively. "Now I'm wondering if I should have built my nephew a sleigh instead of a wagon. Maybe I can have a word with Gervase and we can come up with — "
"I'd hold your horses if I were you. Gervase will be kept quite busy until we can find him someone suitable to assist in the stables. That Faramond character will be out of here. Well, not technically out, since he'll be in the damn dungeon, but… he's cut from the staff as of now." the Sheriff said, firmly.
"I take it you spoke with Gervase?"
"Indeed. He's with those cursed Jesus blokes, Gis. The bloke tried to recruit Gervase, too. But, Gervase declined, thankfully."
"That's good. Gervase is good. That would be most disappointing if he were involved with them." Guy agreed.
It was then, the two men noticed Robert approaching them.
"How are things in the armoury, Robert?" the Sheriff asked.
"Things are moving along quite well. I'm wondering… after this Operation Sundown thing finishes up, if I could meet with you two, the Captain, and Nichol — since Nichol is the Weapons Trainer?" Robert asked, quietly.
"I don't see why not. I'm not expecting the situation at the portcullis to take long. It's probably better for timing, since everyone will be busy until then." Nottingham said.
"Good. The Council Quarters, then?"
"Yes, That is fine."
"You might wish to have your top men present for this, too." Robert suggested.
"Very well. I'll inform them when they return. None of them have come back as yet."
"Perfect. I must return. I'm helping Eustace with something down there." Robert said.
"As long as you know I'll be summoning you when the men start to arrive back. I want you and Nichol present when they give us their reports." the Sheriff said.
"Very well. I will see you then." Robert nodded, then went on his way.
At about an hour or so past midday, Lady Rhiannon was holding her son in her arms, preparing to feed him, a dropper and jar of goat's milk at the ready. She planned to take him to the balcony directly afterward so that he could experience his first snowfall.
"I'm not going to give you too much this time around, Son. Just enough to satisfy you, but you need to be alert. There's snow falling, darling boy. These are the first signs of Father Christmas coming. Your first one." Rhiannon smiled as she headed toward the sofa in the den.
"Oh. So!" the boy giggled.
"Yes, darling. It's snow. We'll work on your diction later on down the road. I know you're young yet, but we'll work on it. You must be properly prepared for what lies ahead. Destiny is yours. Don't let go of Teddy, darling." she chuckled.
"Bear!" the child laughed.
Just then, there was a knock on the door. Rhiannon walked over to the door with her child in her arms, and answered it.
"Izzy!" the child squealed, merrily.
"Yes, sweet boy. It is I." Isabelle smiled.
"Oh, Sister. Do come in." Rhiannon smiled as she motioned for her sister in law to enter. After she closed the door, she continued. "What's that in your arms, dearest?" Rhiannon asked, nodding to the object draped over her arms. It looked like simple white cotton, but the cotton seemed to be covering something.
"Something for you from Madam Oberon, Rhiannon. The hooded dressing gowns. She and Floria completed them this morning." Isabelle smiled. "They're simply sublime. Just wait until you see them!"
"Grand! Follow me. Be seated. I'm just going to go ahead and feed him, if you don't mind. We have this down to a fine art now. Don't worry. I shall cover myself, Isabelle." Rhiannon explained as she headed to the sofa to seat herself.
"That's just fine, Sister. I do not wish to interrupt. I'll just leave yours right here." Isabelle suggested.
"Nonsense. Come in, Isabelle. Maybe you would prefer to sit near the fire, dearest, since — you're wearing that woollen shawl over the already warm looking gown you're wearing?" Rhiannon suggested.
"I'm fine, Rhiannon. I'm comfortable with it on." Isabelle said as she tugged at the ends of it, making sure it covered her front. "Anyway, let me show you." she grinned as she removed the white cotton sheet from the dressing gowns.
"How come I'm only seeing two there? Where's yours?" Rhiannon asked, narrowing her eyes, suspiciously.
"Mine needs… a little adjusting. She'll have it ready when I take her one of my gowns to — " Isabelle stopped herself, far too late in her mind. She cursed herself for not checking herself before she responded.
"Take it to her… for what reason?" Rhiannon asked with a curious quirk of her brow.
"A minor alteration, dearest. It is nothing. Now, do you want me to hold up your dressing gown, so that you can see it?"
"Yes, just give me a moment." Rhiannon said.
Lady Rhiannon positioned her boy at her left breast. She deftly covered herself with a large navy cashmere shawl, then unfastened the buttons on her bodice. The baby took to her immediately, as she reached to the right of her where the necessary items were waiting on a table. She drew up some goat's milk from the jar into the dropper.
Just as the boy started making a face and was about to pull away, she spoke.
"I know, darling. It's coming, do not fret." she said, soothingly. Then, she put the dropper into the corner of his mouth.
"Forgive me, Sister. I think we're good now. Yes, hold it up for me." Rhiannon nodded.
"How is it you're so adept at… all of that already? I can't imagine how you're managing doing that with a dropper, Rhiannon?"
"Motivation, determination, and a willingness to learn. Whatever's best for him, I want to learn it. I've used books in the past to teach me things. I'm willing to learn for this role, too. I've a mind to ask Lady Margaret to borrow any books she might have on child development that she reads for her studies."
"Oh, my! Don't think you need to go that far, Rhiannon. You're already proving yourself to be a good mother." Isabelle nodded. She sighed, softly. Not sure I could be bothered with all of that nonsense.
"Thank you. Now, show me the dressing gown." Rhiannon coaxed her, eager to see the new creation.
"The colour is just perfect, dearest. It's going to look lovely with your colouring." Isabelle smiled.
She set the dressing gowns down, draping them over a chair, before she selected Rhiannon's. She picked it up with both hands holding it up at the shoulders.
"Oh! It's perfect. Even better than I had imagined." Rhiannon smiled. "I can't wait to wear it. I shall put it on tonight, after a nice hot soak.i just know I'm going to love the addition of the hood."
"That sounds perfect. I might do that, too. Hopefully, mine shall be ready for tonight." Isabelle sighed.
"A bit strange that it's not ready, since Madam Oberon has your recent measurements?" Rhiannon pointed out.
"Yes. Well, it just needed a… slight adjustment." Isabelle lied.
"Oh? What kind of an adjustment, Isabelle?" Rhiannon asked.
"Right. Well… the… uh… the… sleeves were too short." Isabelle stammered.
"How peculiar?" Rhiannon remarked, though she wasn't referring to sleeves.
"Indeed. And, did you see the gorgeous shade of purple on Meridwyn's dressing gown? She shall look stunning in that." Isabelle said, nodding to the purple hooded dressing gown, draped over the chair to her left.
"It's beautiful, Sister. She will love it." Rhiannon agreed.
"It's funny how the colours we all chose look so pretty together." Isabelle said. "Wouldn't it be marvellous if Madam Oberon could make one for Meridwyn's wee girl, if she indeed has a girl?"
"Oh, Isabelle! That would be beyond adorable! I really hope she does have a girl. It will be fun to spoil her." Rhiannon smiled.
"Indeed." Isabelle nodded.
She took the dressing gown over to Rhiannon and placed it on the sofa beside her. Then, she took a seat in a chair a few feet away from her. Isabelle couldn't believe her sister in law was going to all of this trouble to attempt to bring milk forth to properly nurse her son. As much as Lady Isabelle wanted the child she carried, even if she could safely carry the child to term, she was certain she lacked the energy to be bothered with all of that. Her mind wandered off, thinking of several strange things at once, as Rhiannon tried to get Isabelle's attention. But, Isabelle was far away, lost in questions and speculation:
Stop thinking of such things. You're not going to have a choice about your child's feedings, because dead children cannot eat. This child will be passed by Yule. Hmm… curses! Maybe not. The child must be huge! How is he so… big? Robert is tall, but he's not that big! This is utter insanity! I best pass this child soon, or… oh, myGod! It's going to be like when Rhiannon delivered Sela! It was hours, and Sela was a tiny wee bird! No way this one is that small. Something's not right. What is wrong? What in the world is going on?
"Isabelle?" Rhiannon inquired, a little louder this time.
"Yes. Forgive me."
"Are you alright? You're looking pale again. And, I can't figure out why you're wearing… all of that." Rhiannon said, nodding to Isabelle's shawl.
"I'm fine, dearest. You mustn't fret. Anyway, looks like you're busy. I mustn't keep you. I'm guessing our riding lesson is delayed with the change in the weather."
"If you're well enough, we will do so on the morrow." Rhiannon said. Then, she looked to her son, and put the dropper into the corner of his mouth.
"There's snow on the ground, Rhiannon. It might be still there on the morrow, unless it warms." Isabelle said.
"Indeed. You shall dress warmly, and we'll do it on the morrow." Rhiannon answered, casually.
"But, isn't that… dangerous?"
"We're going to the horse exercise area, Isabelle. You'll be riding a palfrey if it's still okay with the Gisbornes. You won't be going faster than a trot. It will be fine,
Hmm. I wonder if a fall from the horse would… help speed things along? Sounds like a good possibility if I must ride that palfrey through snow. What would that be like? Don't want to break any bones. That would be dreadful. Don't want to lose my memory like Sheriff George did, either. That was awful. But, maybe it might elicit bleeding? Pains? Things that should have been elicited by that cursed useless tea that Mortianna brought to me. Cursed stuff only made me gag!
"Isabelle!" Rhiannon called out to her.
"What is it, Sister?" Isabelle asked after she jolted at the increased volume of Rhiannon's voice.
"I swear you're either ill, tired, or distracted by something. You keep… losing concentration. I'm going with option one." a beat. "I do wish we'd see more colour in your cheeks, Sister. Are you… eating enough?"
"Ha!" Isabelle scoffed.
"What's that, Isabelle?"
"Food intake isn't a problem." Isabelle nodded. Even though she often felt queasy, she obviously must be overeating in her opinion, because it looked and felt to her like she was carrying a whale.
"I see. Well, if you're up to it, I'm going to take the baby for a short visit to the balcony to show him the snow — "
"Why the balcony? Why not just venture outside?"
"It's not as if we've made an announcement about our son's arrival. Only those who matter know of his existence. George and I aren't prepared for that as yet." Rhiannon said.
"Maybe you should think of doing that, Rhiannon." Isabelle suggested.
"Of course, but not now. Anyway, after that I'm going to check in on Lady Aeleanna. She's been here since last night." Rhiannon explained.
"Oh, right. Officer Nigel's lady friend, correct?"
"Yes. She might appreciate some company. Maybe I can even encourage her to get out of those rooms for a brief while. You should come with me if you're feeling well enough, Isabelle. You helped work on him. I'm sure she'd be delighted to meet you." Rhiannon suggested.
"What about the baby, Rhiannon?" Isabelle asked.
"I'll make sure he's sleepy enough and take him to Meridwyn. Then, we can join her after a brief check in with Nigel's lady. And, you can give Meridwyn her dressing gown then. How's that?"
"I think that sounds fine. After that, I shall need to visit Madam Oberon once more. I need to get… that gown to her that needs altering." Isabelle said.
"I'm sure you can take your time, Isabelle. There's no rush."
"I really need that gown altered, dearest." Isabelle said, firmly.
"I see. It will be fine, Isabelle. Why don't you go and retrieve that gown of yours while I finish up? Grab your cape, too, since we're going to the balcony. You could leave your gown here, and when we've completed our visits, you can come and grab it on your way back to see Madam Oberon." Rhiannon suggested.
"A good idea, Sister. I'll go and take care of that now." Isabelle smiled as she stood. Then, she went on her way.
The Sheriff was speaking to Guy and Nichol in the Council Quarters, when the door opened, and the guard showed Luke and Castor inside.
Nottingham stood from his chair and dismissed the guard.
"Good. You're back. Did you see any of the others on your way in?" the Sheriff asked as he walked toward them.
"No. We didn't, Milord. They had farther to travel, though, and — " Luke began, but was interrupted.
"And, the weather is nasty out there, Milord. It might take them a little longer than normal." Castor added.
"I would definitely concur." Nichol said.
"Right. Well, did you have any luck? You two were gone long enough." the Sheriff frowned.
"Yeah. We… uh… we kind of got held up by one of them… meet and greet moments, Milord." Castor smirked.
"Pardon? The hell do you mean by a meet and greet? No one was meant to know your identities. That's why you wore regular clothing, Castor! For the love of — "
"They don't know us by our real names, Milord… except for three people we saw." Castor said.
"Yes. Matheus Busby, and his wife, Constancia, and Lady Hayward, Milord." Luke nodded.
"I see, but, what's this about a meet and greet? Satan's teeth, Luke! You weren't there to make friends with the market goers!" Nottingham exhaled sharply while shaking his head.
"Trust me. I wasn't making friends. Truthfully, I wish I could forget it, and I'm not being funny about it." Luke sighed.
"It wasn't so bad, Luke. It was kind of amusing… and nice — in a weird sort of way." Castor scoffed.
"It was a right pain in my — " Luke started to loudly argue, but was cut off.
"Will one of you explain what the absolute hell you're talking about? Since it put a pause to your tasks, it's my business to know." he said as his eyebrow shot north, knowingly.
"Some people at the market recognized him, Milord. From the tavern." Castor smirked.
"And, it kind of took a turn from there." Luke sighed.
"Bloody epic, it was! He was handing out autographs!" Castor laughed, nodding beside him to Luke.
Guy and Nichol started chuckling.
"I see." Nottingham smirked, trying hard not to laugh. "Right. Well, what about the rest of it? Though I do appreciate the anecdote, both of you managed to craftily evade the question at hand. Did you gain any information while you were there?"
"We did, Milord. In the interest of time, do you want us to wait to share this once the other teams arrive and we all give our reports?" Luke asked.
"I haven't actually thought that far — "
"With respect, ye might want to do that, Milord." Castor suggested.
"Why?" the Sheriff challenged, folding his arms.
"Because, what we have to share will involve group input. You're going to want to respond." Luke hinted.
"Whatever it is you learned, can the information wait until the other two teams return?" the Sheriff asked, curiously.
"Yes, Milord." Luke said, confidently.
"Very well. We will do that. Oh, and, before you go, I have something for you, Luke." the Sheriff said.
"Milord?" Luke asked.
The Sheriff walked over to the desk and opened the large drawer. He extracted the large leather drawstring sack, then closed the drawer and took it to Luke.
"Slayer brought this for you. Charlie sent him with it. Your tips from last night, lad." the Sheriff smirked as he passed it to him.
Luke took the black leather sack, a little taken by surprise.
"Ha! Classic! Ye can buy us all a round when we are granted some time off, Luke." Castor chuckled.
"Seems you've found a way to supplement your income, Luke. Well done!" Nichol smirked.
"Indeed." Guy chuckled.
"It's strange to be receiving money just for singing a couple of songs." Luke shrugged.
"You earned it, lad. Enjoy it. Put it away in a safe place, directly." he said, then addressed both of the men. "You'll both be summoned when the rest of the men return. Let the Scribe know where to find you." the Sheriff instructed them.
Both men nodded, then took their leave.
"Now, that was comical. I want to hear more about it." Nichol chuckled.
"Just imagining it makes it hard to contain the laughter!" Guy agreed.
"Except… it presents a problem." Nichol frowned. "Maybe Luke was too damn good with that Bard act? Now he's well known — and sought after. He's got a load of loopy admirers, now. This will be a challenge when he's sent on assignments."
"I don't regret sending him. It got the job done — even though we damn near lost Nigel. We got a good few of those Jesus blokes, too. It will be a challenge, and we'll need to work around it. Luke can handle it, Nic." the Sheriff said, firmly.
"That's good to know, mate." Nichol nodded.
It was three quarters of an hour later that Gisborne was on the second floor, a few doors down from his own door. He had just finished checking in on his wife, and was now speaking to Hildith, the comely and efficient servant lady. She nodded, obeying his request.
"I shall take care of that, Sir Gisborne. I just need a moment to direct Gundred to cover for me." Hildith said, softly.
"Indeed. Crack on, then." Guy nodded.
She nodded, then swiftly took leave of him.
Gisborne continued walking a short distance and saw Ladies Rhiannon and Isabelle, coming from the hall that lead to the balcony. Lady Rhiannon carried the child, who was wrapped in a fluffy black blanket to match his mother's velvet cape. As he drew closer, he noticed snow scattered here and there on their capes, and parts of the blanket.
"Good day, Sir Guy. We're going to see Meridwyn." Rhiannon nodded. "Are you agreeable?"
"Indeed. Just do me a favour. Don't bother with knocking on the door. I don't want her out of that bed more than necessary. Things are going smoothly so far, and I don't want… that to happen again." Guy said, firmly.
"Understood." Rhiannon nodded.
"Yes, Sir Guy." Isabelle said.
Gisborne continued on his way, and the ladies followed his directive, letting themselves into the chambers. Together they walked to the doors of the bedchamber, then Isabelle knocked.
"Did you forget something, Guy?" Meridwyn called out. "What is it? I'll get — "
"It is us, Meridwyn. We saw Sir Guy in the corridor. He gave his permission to see you, and asked we don't knock on your door." Rhiannon said after she gently opened the door.
"What? For crying out loud!" Meridwyn huffed, as they walked into the bedchamber. "Wait. Where were you two just now?" she asked, narrowing her blue eyes while noticing their attire.
"The balcony. Showing him his first snowfall." Rhiannon smiled, nodding to the child.
"So!" the boy giggled, then chewed on the ears of his teddy bear.
"It's called 'snow', darling. I'll keep reminding you." Rhiannon scoffed.
"He liked it." Isabelle smiled.
"Yes, I can see that. And, isn't he just adorable right now?" Meridwyn grinned.
"That's good that you think so. I need to… leave him with you briefly. We're going to check in on Lady Aeleanna. Officer Nigel's lady friend." Rhiannon explained, quickly.
"That's fine. Looks like he's getting sleepy." Meridwyn said, nodding to the boy.
"We won't be long at all. I'm going to arrange to see her later, if I can." Rhiannon said.
"It's fine, Rhi. Take all the time you need. We will be grand. Bring him to me, won't you?" Meridwyn smiled. She set her knitting down beside her and outstretched her arms.
"You're a doll, Meridwyn." Rhiannon said as she passed the child to her.
The sound of a woman clearing her throat behind them at the doorway caused them to direct their attention there. Hildith stood there with her hands clasped in front of her.
"Forgive the intrusion, Milady. Sir Gisborne asked me to come forthwith to see to your needs, and I was instructed not to knock." Hildith explained.
"Oh, for goodness sake!" Meridwyn sighed.
"I could perhaps draw you a nice hot bath if you like, Milady?" Hildith suggested.
"Not just now, Hildith. I'm going to be minding my… relative." Meridwyn said, nodding to the baby who was layng on the bed beside her.
"Isn't he lovely? How is he related to you, if you don't mind my asking?" Hildith asked, tentatively. She pushed some loose shiny dark tendrils from her face.
"Yes. Well… you see — " Meridwyn started to say, but was cut off.
"I'm going to need you to assist her with minding him, Hildith. You shall be compensated for it. I'll take care of it." Rhiannon said, firmly.
Hildith narrowed her blue eyes, looking to them both, curiously.
"But, I thought he was related to Milady Meridwyn?"
"He is. And, I'm going to do a good turn for you both. You assist Lady Meridwyn, and I shall pay you." Rhiannon said.
"This makes no sense. Why would you do that if you're no relation to — "
"I shall mind him. You don't really need me when you see Lady Ael — " Isabelle began, but was interrupted.
"Since I know you well enough to know you're competent and know enough to keep your mouth shut, let me fill you in. The child is related to Lady Meridwyn through marriage. He belongs to Milord Sheriff and myself. No one is to know this right now. Understood?" Rhiannon said, firmly.
"Yes, Milady Rhiannon." Hildith nodded, quite bewildered by the lady's declaration. She wondered if Lady Rhiannon was faring well? She certainly looked quite small of late, in Hildith's opinion. Perhaps the lady was unwell?
"You shall take care of whatever needs Lady Meridwyn has, and assist her with whatever my son might need. Now, you best pay attention. I've a few instructions for you." Rhiannon said, firmly.
"Yes, Milady. Do you expect to be long?"
"No more than an hour." Rhiannon said.
"Thought we were making our visit brief?" Isabelle asked.
"The lady deserves at least an hour's reprieve from those cursed doom and gloom chambers, don't you think?" Rhiannon pointed out.
"I suppose. But, Meridwyn needs her rest."
"Rest? How much more rest do I need? I'm bored out of my head, Isabelle. I will be fine." a beat. "It's you I worry about. How are you not perspiring in all of those clothes? I can see your shawl under that cape because the edges are open." Meridwyn sighed.
"I was feeling a bit chill, I suppose." Isabelle shrugged, then looked downcast. She pulled the edges of her cape closer about her.
Ten minutes later they were knocking on the door of Nigel's chambers. Leofwin greeted them, surprised to see who was there.
"Lady Rhiannon." Leofwin smiled. Then, he looked to Isabelle. "And, Lady Isabelle, I see. What brings you by?"
"We'd like to see Lady Aeleanna for a spell, if she's awake. Would that be alright, Master Rainecourt? I thought it might be good for her to get out of that bedchamber." Rhiannon explained.
"I concur. Do come in, ladies. She is awake. I was just in a short time ago." Leofwin said as he motioned for them to enter while holding the door.
After he closed the door, he went to the bedchamber and summoned for her.
"She'll be joining us forthwith." Leofwin nodded when he returned to the ladies.
"How is Officer Nigel faring now?" Isabelle asked.
"He is sleeping. I expect he might waken in a few hours time. We shall see. Still waiting for that fever to break." Leofwin frowned.
"Is there anything I can do to assist, Master Rainecourt?" Isabelle asked.
"That's kind of you, Lady Isabelle. You're still looking a trifle pale, though. Did you even sleep?"
"Yes. A little." Isabelle nodded.
"Lady Margaret is currently in there." Leofwin said, nodding behind him to the bedchamber. "It's only a waiting game for now. I'm expecting Tom to return soon." a beat. "No. You two keeping Aela company is helpful. She needs a reprieve."
"Precisely." Rhiannon agreed.
Just then, Lady Aeleanna came from the bedchamber out into the den. Her normally shiny golden hair was now falling from the chignon she had it fashioned in. She pushed some strands from her face.
"Oh! Lady Rhiannon. Forgive me. I must look a right state. Never occurred to me to bring a hair brush." Aeleanna said as she advanced closer toward them.
"Don't give it another thought, Lady Aela. This is my sister in law, Lady Isabelle Wordsworth." Rhiannon said, gesturing beside her to Isabelle. "Isabelle, this is Lady Aeleanna."
"A pleasure to meet you, Milady." Isabelle nodded.
"Likewise." Aeleanna smiled.
"Lady Isabelle assisted us with Nigel, my dear." Leofwin said.
"Oh, my!" Aeleanna exclaimed, her eyes widened. She looked to Isabelle. "You did?"
"Yes, Milady." Isabelle smiled.
"Thank you. I'm most grateful for your help." Aeleanna smiled.
"I was glad to be of assistance." Isabelle said.
"It is kind of you both to come by and check in on Nigel." Aeleanna said as she pulled her ivory cashmere shawl close around her.
"Yes. But, that's not the only reason we're here. We came to see you." Rhiannon said.
"Really? Whatever for?" Aeleanna asked. Then, she frowned as a thought occurred to her. "Oh. I see. You must be here to tell me it's time for me to go. That's fine. I guess I'll just grab my ca — "
"No, Lady Aela. Not at all." Rhiannon smiled.
"Pardon?"
"We're here to take you out of here for a spell. You've been dutifully tending to him all day, and probably most of last night, too. You need a break." Rhiannon said.
"But… he's still not well. I don't wish to be away from him when he finally awakens. That cursed fever is bound to break sometime soon." Aeleanna pointed out.
"It will be alright, Aela. Lady Margaret is with him. I'm here. Tom shall be here soon. We'll give him the clove infused wine, then change out the leeches. If anything changes, I'll summon for you. I expect you won't be too long." Leofwin reassured her.
"Promise you'll get word to me should he awaken. I don't want him thinking I've abandoned him." Aeleanna said, firmly.
"Of course, my dear. He would never think that, anyway. You've been steadfast with him for a very long time, already." Leofwin said with a knowing quirk of his brow.
"Very well." Aeleanna nodded. She looked to Rhiannon next. "Do I need my cape, since you are both wearing yours?"
"No. We just came in. It's freezing out there, and there's loads of snow." Rhiannon smiled.
"Yes. I saw that from Nigel's window." Aeleanna nodded.
"We're going to my chambers. I shall send for tea for us to warm you. Come." Rhiannon said.
"Very well." Aeleanna nodded.
A short time later, they were gathered in the den of the Sheriff's private chambers. Rhiannon and Isabelle doffed their capes. Isabelle and Aeleanna took their places in a couple of chairs by the fireplace, as Rhiannon went to a table where the decanter of brandy and some goblets were located.
"Do you like brandy, Lady Aela?" Rhiannon asked.
"I do, but… aren't we about to have tea? Didn't you ask your guard to summon a servant for tea and pastries?" Aeleanna asked.
"I did. And, a little bit of brandy wouldn't hurt, either. I do hope it's warmer in Officer Nigel's bedchamber than it is in his den." Rhiannon said as she began to pour.
"It is. We keep that fire tended to. I think Master Rainecourt has just been too preoccupied to think to stoke the one in the den." Aeleanna commented.
"Understandable. And, what about you, Isabelle? Brandy, dearest?"
"No, thank you, Rhiannon. The tea shall be sufficient." Isabelle said.
"Very well." Rhiannon nodded. She took the goblets and walked over to Aeleanna, handing her one of them.
"Thank you, Lady Rhiannon." Aeleanna smiled as she took it from her.
"Have you managed to get any sleep at all?" Rhiannon asked as she seated herself in a chair.
"Yes. Here and there. I want to be alert and ready when Nigel wakes. He looks frightful. I've never once seen him looking anything but hale and strong." Aeleanna sighed softly, then took a sip of the brandy.
"Of course, Milady. Everything is being done to see that he returns to his usual state of being." Isabelle said, attempting to assuage her.
"I know, but it's… it's all still quite jarring to me, truthfully." Aeleanna frowned. "So, you're Lady Rhiannon's sister in law?"
"She is. She's married to my brother." Rhiannon smiled.
"How lovely." Aeleanna said.
"Yes, it is." Isabelle agreed.
"Indeed." Rhiannon nodded.
"I hope I'm as close to my brother's future wife as you both appear to be." Aeleanna smiled.
"Is he older than you?" Rhiannon asked, curiously.
"No. He's the baby in the family, and the only boy."
"Oh. Is he courting someone, Milady?" Isabelle asked.
"No. He's too busy horsing around with his mates to care about things like that." Aeleanna chuckled.
"That will come, I'm sure." Rhiannon smiled.
Aeleanna took a generous sip of brandy from her goblet. Then, she set the goblet down on a table in front of her, and began to try smoothing her hair.
"You ladies look so perfectly put together, and I look an absolute mess." Aeleanna sighed. She looked down and frowned. "Oh, dear. Curses! I've only just noticed I've a bit of blood on the skirt of my gown, too. Forgive me."
"There's nothing to forgive, my dear. Why don't we go into the bedchamber and we'll see about loaning you one of my gowns? You could use my hair brush while you're at it." Rhiannon suggested.
"There's no need for you to go to so much trouble, Lady Rhiannon."
"Nonsense. It's no bother at all. I also have an extra dressing gown and plenty of shifts if you'd like a clean shift to wear. You can wear them tonight, so that you don't have to stay in your gown when you're trying to rest." Rhiannon said. She stood from her chair and nodded for Aeleanna to follow her.
"That is too generous, Milady. There's really no need for you to do this." Aeleanna said.
"Come, Lady Aela. The dressing gown I mentioned is freshly laundered. I have plenty of gowns for you to choose from. I will speak to Hildith about getting your gown laundered for you, so that's it's ready for you when you're ready to return to your manor. Once Officer Nigel is improving, of course." Rhiannon smiled.
"Whom is Hildith?" Aeleanna asked.
"She's one of the servant ladies here. She's basically in charge of the other servants. She's very good. Don't worry about a thing. She'll have your beautiful purple velvet gown looking brand new again." Rhiannon explained.
"Oh. I see. Very well. I suppose it would be nice to look freshened up once Nigel awakens." Aeleanna relented. She stood from her chair.
"It's such a lovely gown you're wearing, Lady Aeleanna. I particularly like the addition of the ivory lace trim at the neckline, and the ends of your sleeves." Isabelle smiled.
"Thank you. I quite like it, too. And, so does Nigel." Aeleanna grinned.
"Where did you find it, Lady Aela? Isabelle is right. It's exquisite!" Rhiannon said.
"At Madam Oberon's shop, about a year ago. Funny. Don't know what happened there, but she hasn't been seen in awhile." Aeleanna commented with a shrug.
"She is here, Lady Aela. She serves as Seamstress to myself, Isabelle, and Lady Gisborne. She also serves as Wardrobe Mistress to myself and Lady Gisborne." Rhiannon explained.
"Oh. Well, that's good for you ladies. Too bad for her other customers, though." Aeleanna nodded.
"She takes commissions. If you need to meet with her, let me know, my dear. I'll arrange it." Rhiannon said.
"That would be wonderful, Lady Rhiannon. Thank you." Aeleanna smiled.
Rhiannon noticed Isabelle hadn't moved from her chair.
"Come Isabelle." Rhiannon said. "No sense waiting out here on your own, Sister."
Isabelle nodded and followed them both inside.
In the late afternoon, Robert left the armoury and stopped by his chambers to check on his wife. He was concerned because she still looked rather pale in the last couple of days. The sitting room was empty, so he looked in the bedchamber, and even checked the bath chamber. He shrugged, wondering if she went for a walk. She often did that with the first snowfall of the season. Just as he emerged from the bedchamber, she came through the door, with something pink and velvety draped over her arm.
"There you are, Belle." Robert smiled as he walked toward her. "What's that you have, my love?"
"It's a new dressing gown. Isn't it pretty, Robert?" Isabelle smiled.
"Yes, dearest. I'm sure it will look lovely on you." Robert said, as he greeted her with a soft kiss on the cheek.
"Has Master Crumwell come by yet, Robert?" Isabelle asked.
"Well, no. Isn't he tied up with Nigel? Oh. Right. Is he taking you there to assist with something?"
"No. He's coming to see me."
"Is something wrong, Isabelle?" Robert asked.
"Well… yes. But, nothing of urgency — depending on whom you ask." Isabelle sighed.
She laid the dressing gown over the arm of a chair, then tugged at the ends of her shawl to cover the front of her. Next, she folded her arms.
"What do you mean? Is there pain? Bleeding?" Robert gasped.
"No, husband. Nothing of the sort."
"Then… what is the prob — "
"I'm far too fat, Robert, if you must know! How you haven't noticed is beyond me." Isabelle huffed.
"What? You're glowing, Belle… in a pale sort of way. But, you look beautiful. You're with child, dearest. This is normal. It's to be expect — "
"You're far too kind, husband. I'm now requiring some of my gowns to be turned into tents! Does that sound normal to you?" Isabelle asked with an eye roll.
"What?" Robert asked, shaking his head.
Just then, a knock at the door interrupted them.
Robert sighed and went to answer the knock. Thomas looked at him, curiously. He was holding his calfskin leather bag in his left hand, fervently hoping he wouldn't need anything of importance contained within it.
"Is everything quite alright with your wife, Robert?" Thomas asked.
Isabelle swiftly joined her husband at the door.
"It's not labours, Master Crumwell. But, there's definitely something right peculiar going on! I have a few questions for you if you can spare the time." Isabelle said, firmly.
"I do have time."
"Good. Come in." Robert said, holding the door for him.
After the door was closed, Robert folded his arms as he watched his wife fire off questions at the medicus.
"Something is not right, Master Crumwell. I've carried and lost four other babies, and this has never happened with any of them." Isabelle began.
"What do you refer to, specifically, Lady Isabelle?" Thomas asked.
"I'm showing already! I feel like I've gained about a stone in only a sennight! That is not normal. I don't care what you say to try and smooth that over — it is not normal!" Isabelle exclaimed. "What is wrong, Master Crumwell? Something must be terribly wrong, wouldn't you agree?"
"How many of your monthly bleeds have you missed, Milady? I've forgotten with all of the excitement since last night." Thomas asked.
"Two." she said.
"Then, you're far enough into it that it seems reasona — "
"Reasonable? You must be jesting! I don't fit into most of my clothes — already! That has never happened at this stage, Master Crumwell. I swear it! Now, what could be causing this? What is wrong? I don't think I've been overindulging. Half the time I can't get anything down! Is this child… grossly deformed, or something?"
Robert shook his head and frowned.
Thomas sighed.
"We best go into your bedchamber, then. I need to see for myself what you're speaking of." Thomas said. He motioned for Robert to join them.
Fifteen minutes later, the three emerged from the bedchamber.
"I saw you frowning when you noticed the change in my girth, Master Crumwell. What in the world could be wrong?" Isabelle asked, fretfully.
"Milady, are you certain you've only missed two of your monthly bleeds?" Thomas asked.
"Yes. There was definitely bleeding in September. Only for a day or two, but it was there." Isabelle said.
"Hmm." Thomas mused, rubbing his chin in contemplation.
"What are you thinking, Thomas?" Robert asked.
"Well, there could be a couple of obvious reasons contributing to this… sudden weight gain." Thomas said. He looked to Isabelle. "You're either further along than we originally thought, or you could have an excess of fluid building in the sac that the child is contained in. I've seen that a few times before."
"Oh. If that's the case, what can be done about that? Can you drain it somehow?" Isabelle asked.
"You're normally quite astute, Milady. Did you really just ask me that?" Thomas said with a knowing quirk of his brow.
"There must be something to be done. I feel like I'm carrying a whale!"
"Oh, Belle… " Robert sighed.
"The fluid cannot be drained, Milady. The fluid is needed for your child until the time comes for the birth." Thomas said, flatly.
"Then… what can I do to stop production of the cursed fluid?" Isabelle asked.
"To my knowledge, nothing, Milady."
"What if I restrict intake of food and fluids?" she pressed him.
"Often when there's an overproduction of fluid, the child ends up being smaller than normal. No. No restriction on your intake. Your child needs to grow, and it will draw from whatever you ingest." Thomas advised.
"Great. So, nothing can be done. So, I'm to expect to grow as big as one of Milord Sheriff's wagons then! Grand!" Isabelle sighed.
"Eventually, the weight gain shall taper off and normalize." Thomas said.
"When? When I need to turn sideways to pass through a doorway?" Isabelle demanded. Then, she frowned. "Scratch that. At this rate, I won't be able to get through a doorway at all!"
"I think you're exaggerating, Milady. You mustn't worry yourself about that. I've never known any woman in your condition unable to get through a doorway." Thomas sighed.
"I can no longer fit into the gown I wore to my sister in law's wedding — just eight days ago. That is not normal!" Isabelle exclaimed. She looked down and wiped the angry tear she felt rolling down her cheek.
"Take a breath, Belle. You must calm yourself, dearest." Robert said, softly.
"Calm? Who could be calm about this, Robert?" Isabelle pointed out, quite loudly.
"Right. Well, I noted your measurements, Milady." Thomas said, nodding to his bag in his hand. He had used a measuring tape he kept on hand, and had made note of his findings. "We're going to keep an eye on that. I shall measure you at the same time each sennight. That will give me a better idea what to rule out, as well as needing to know the changes, if there shall be any more."
"Are you telling me there could be other causes for this… frightful state I'm currently in?" Isabelle asked. Her blue eyes widened, incredulously.
"Very rare occurrences, Milady. It's unlikely, but I must closely observe for changes." Thomas said, attempting to assuage her.
"Can you explain? Do you expect my wife to grow… larger than is expected?" Robert asked.
"Signs at the moment indicate a strong possibility of that. But, the timing might be off, too. In which case, her weight gain would be on course. There's been cases of ladies having… bleeding while actually with child, which tricked them into believing they were not pregnant." Thomas explained.
"And, if I'm certain of my dates, what else is there that has possibly caused this alarming weight gain?" Isabelle asked.
"Then, it's more than likely what I explained moments ago about increase of fluid in the sac. But, I think the dates are probably off." Thomas explained, confidently.
"What if the… child is deformed and that's why it's so big? What if… it has a head like a giant ball?" Isabelle asked, genuinely wondering if that was the cause.
Robert looked down to the floor and sighed. He put his palm to his forehead. He was beginning to feel slightly queasy, imagining in his mind the various things the two of them were describing.
"No one ever knows in advance if a child shall he malformed. Some infants with abnormalities are often quite small." a beat. "This is good for you to ask such questions if you're thinking of furthering your work in this field, incidentally." Thomas said.
"Yes, well… right now, I'm more concerned about this child, and spend most of my days trying to come up with new ways to stay the retching — so I won't freeze to death while hanging my head out of my window, Master Crumwell." Isabelle said, firmly.
"Isabelle!" Robert admonished. He sighed and shook his head.
"I was making a point, Robert." Isabelle said. Then, she looked to the medicus. "The point is the weight gain can't be related to what I'm taking in, because the more I think about it, most of the time just the thought of eating makes me want to gag. My question about infants with overly large heads was a legitimate one. Is there… such a thing?"
Thomas sighed.
"I've heard of such a thing, but, I've never seen it. It's very rare. It's even more rare than the other possibilities. Logic tells me the dates are off. You mentioned you only bled for two days. It's quite possible that the last real monthly bleed was three months ago, rather than two. And, that would explain the weight gain, Lady — "
Suddenly there was the sound of a chair scraping along the floor before toppling over, followed by a loud thud. Isabelle and Thomas turned their attention to where the sound was, both letting out a gasp.
"Robert!" Isabelle exclaimed as she ran toward him.
"Saints help me." Thomas muttered. Then, he moved in swiftly.
Half an hour later, the Sheriff, Guy and Nichol were seated at the table in the Council Quarters, greeting the two teams who had just arrived, while waiting on Robert, Luke, and Castor to show.
"Take your places, men. Luke and Castor will be joining us. They arrived back hours ago. We're also waiting on Robert. I thought he would be here by now." the Sheriff directed them.
"He should be here soon, Cousin. The Scribe said he informed him." Guy said.
The men took their places at the table. At this moment, the door opened and Luke and Castor were shown inside.
"Good. Come to the table, men. Any sign of Robert out there?" the Sheriff asked the sentry who let them in.
The guard shook his head. The Sheriff dismissed him, and the sentry returned to his post.
"Did either of you see Robert on your way here?" he asked Luke and Castor, impatiently.
"No, Milord." Luke said.
"I haven't seen him." Castor said, shaking his head.
"Should we begin without him, Milord?" Duke Farnsworth asked.
"I'll give him a few moments more. If he doesn't show then, we shall start without him. I don't know what's keeping him, but I shall have a word — "
Just then, the door opened and Robert stumbled inside. He sighed, then continued walking to the table, keeping his head down.
"Robert, what the hell? You're late. Are you bleeding drunk?" Nottingham demanded.
Robert looked up at him. He frowned and then took his place beside Gisborne, as a few gasps were heard around the table.
"Jesus!" Nichol exclaimed.
"What the bleeding hell happened to you?" the Sheriff asked.
"You look like you walked into a door!" Guy exclaimed.
"I… uh… yes. I had a… wee fall." Robert said dismissively, while straightening the parchment in front of him, and moving the quill and ink jar closer to him. He was preparing to take notes at the meeting.
"A fall? From what? Did you fall off your horse, or something?" the Sheriff asked.
"No. Nothing like that. All is well!" Robert smiled, ruefully.
Most of the men were staring at him, some with their jaws agape. Robert had some nasty bruising and a couple of minor cuts on the left side of his face.
"Right." the Sheriff said, shaking his head. "Alright, men. Let's start with you, Duke, and your team. Your assignment was checking out the cursed cave at Dead Man's Curve. Let's hear your report first."
"We found evidence that he had been there. He wasn't there, however." Duke Farnsworth said.
"He was seen, but not by us, Milord." Richard added.
"Really? Seen by who?"
"The two men, and a couple of consorts who were found to be drinking and smoking it up inside there, Milord. They were so wasted they had no idea it was snowing." Alex said.
"Indeed." the Captain sighed.
"What? Smoking what, exactly?" the Sheriff asked, curiously.
"Godsflesh mushrooms, Milord." Richard said.
"There was a blood trail present on the floor of the cave, and some of his wrappings were found in there." the Captain added.
"But… not him." the Sheriff sighed.
"No. So, I questioned the four who were there. They had seen him two hours prior when they were approaching the path and he had just crossed it. Unfortunately, the snow destroyed the blood trail outside of the cave, but we watched for him on our way out of there, after we assisted the group back to their horses." Duke Farnsworth said.
"Cursed elusive fool!" Ancel muttered.
"Indeed, Ancel, but… we're closing in on him." the Sheriff said. Then, he looked to his Captain. "Tomorrow. Same time. Same place."
"Of course, my Lord." Duke Farnsworth nodded.
"Good. And, what about your team, Mordrid? I'm guessing that was unsuccessful since I didn't hear of a prisoner needing accommodation in the dungeon?" the Sheriff sighed.
"We saw her, Milord. She drove a wagon to the Rainecourt manor — oddly — " Mordrid started to say, but was cut off.
"So, we waited for her to finish up in there, and then we followed her." Ancel added.
"Did she lead you to their home?" the Sheriff asked.
"Yes, Milord. Just right outside of the town of Nettlestone. Since no one greeted her — " Gerad was interrupted.
"Ancel and I moved in and looked through the windows, Milord. We had Gerad keep watch." Mordrid said.
"And? Did you see him?" he pressed.
"Negative. He wasn't there, Milord." Ancel said, shaking his head.
"You're certain?"
"Yes, Milord. I observed his wife seat herself in a chair by the fireplace in the sitting room. She was weeping. At one point, in between sobs, I heard her say, "Gunter, where are you?". I don't think she has a clue." Mordrid frowned.
"We waited a few hours to see if he would show. He didn't, Milord." Gerad added.
"Another elusive one!" Nottingham spat.
"We could stake out that home again on the morrow if you wish, Milord." Mordrid suggested.
"We shall see." the Sheriff said. Next, he turned his attention to Luke and Castor. "Alright men, tell us about your market visit."
"When did you get back?" Mordrid asked them.
"It was afternoon." Luke said.
"But, didn't you two leave here around the same time we did? It shouldn't have taken you that long." Ancel pointed out.
"We were… held up there for a time." Castor smirked.
"With what?" Gerad asked, curiously.
"Let me guess. Did you take him directly to the ale tent, Cas?" Richard scoffed.
"We did visit the ale tent at the end of our time there, but… that wasn't what slowed us down." Castor hinted.
Luke sighed, shaking his head.
"Go ahead. Tell them, Castor. You might as well, since the men need to be aware next time they have need to go into town with Luke." the Sheriff said.
"Must we, Milord?" Luke asked.
The men curiously looked to Luke and then to each other, wondering what had happened at the market.
"I think it's relevant, Luke." Nottingham said. Then, he looked down and smirked.
"A number of people there recognized him. Mostly, a bunch of swooning young ladies, but there was a group of both men and women at the end of this meet and greet interlude. The young ladies were… shouting out his name. Well, not his real name, of course." Castor said, addressing all of them.
"Really?" Mordrid chuckled.
"Yes. There was one blonde lady named Mirenna, who just happened to have a quill and ink jar tucked into her drawstring bag — for some strange reason. So, she asked Luke for his autograph, and then — " Castor began to explain, but was interrupted.
"It went downhill from there. At least… that part of it, anyway." Luke sighed.
"Ah, ha, ha! Quality!" Alex laughed.
The Duke, Nichol, Gerad, Richard, and Robert began chuckling.
Guy looked to the table and smirked, managing to conceal his laughter.
Ancel and Mordrid looked to each other with knowing smirks spread across their faces.
"So, how did that work… exactly? Where did you find parchment?" Mordrid asked, curiously.
"Did she have that shoved into the bodice of her gown, or something?" Alex chortled.
"Fuck… " Luke muttered, quietly.
"No. Her friend suggested they rip bark off a birch tree that was close by. So, a bunch of overly excited young ladies followed that Mirenna woman to the birch tree, and next thing we knew, a whole bunch of them were in a queue to get his autograph!" Caster exclaimed with a chuckle.
"Ha! More like huddled around us, so that we damn near couldn't breathe, Cas." Luke pointed out. He exhaled sharply, shaking his head.
"Brilliant!" Richard scoffed. "I wish Nigel was here. He'd find this quite amusing."
"Don't worry. We'll tell him all about it. We'll make sure Castor is there so that we don't leave out the juicy details." Mordrid grinned.
"Same thing happened last night at the tavern. A group of people approached him before Charlie invited him up on stage. One lady mentioned getting his autograph, to which Nigel smoothed that over by telling her Luke didn't bring the necessary writing supplies." Ancel chuckled.
"Then, they were trying to book him to perform at an upcoming family event." Richard added with a grin.
"Ha! Classic!" Alex chortled.
"I knew this Bard stuff was a bad idea from the get go." Luke said, shaking his head.
"Wrong, lad. It worked." the Sheriff said.
"Damn! So much for trying to work your way through there anonymously." Gerad added, then resumed chuckling.
"Maybe you were too damn good, mate?" Alex mused.
"We managed it. After that, Luke kept his head down, and his hood up." Castor said.
"And, you shall need to do so in future, Luke, when going into town." the Sheriff said.
"Of course, Milord." Luke nodded.
"Good. So, tell us, men. What did you learn after your… meet and greet moment?" the Sheriff asked.
"After that interruption, we headed to the ale tent." Luke began.
"We tossed most of the ale we couldn't avoid ordering, and topped up our mugs with water. But, we figured that would be our best bet for gathering information, because that's the place at the market where people speak freely, Milord." Castor explained.
"Indeed, Castor." the Sheriff smirked.
"And, it paid off." Luke added.
"What happened in there, men?" Duke Farnsworth asked them.
"Within about a quarter of an hour of sitting in there, we were approached." Luke said.
"By two of them Jesus blokes." Castor added. "Pair of gullible fools!"
"Either that, or we were finessed, Cas." Luke pointed out.
"Indeed, mate." Castor nodded.
"Do enlighten us." the Sheriff said.
"One was tall with dark hair, the other was a bald muscled bloke. Told us their names were Sygrid and Ingram." Castor said.
"And, they invited us to the next meeting." Luke said, with a knowing quirk of his brow.
"Ah, yes. Next Thursday, no doubt." the Sheriff nodded.
"No, Milord. The meeting has been moved ahead to tomorrow night." Luke said.
"Interesting." Guy muttered.
"Indeed, Gis. What's interesting is that they're planning a meeting at all." Nottingham scoffed.
"Is it, Milord? They have an incursion planned in a fortnight." Richard reminded him.
"That is true, except… now they know we're after them, Richard." the Sheriff said.
"Sygrid said that in light of recent events, the meeting was moved ahead, and Gunter was supposed to be there to lead them." Luke said.
"Great. So, did they drop any hints as to where he might be?" the Sheriff asked.
"Ingram said no one has seen him since a few hours past sundown last night." Castor said.
"In fact, Ingram, the bald bloke, expressed concern that Thorne might have been trapped in the warehouse when it burned." Luke added.
"Curses! So, the fool hasn't been in contact with his fellow Jesus cult followers!" the Sheriff huffed.
"Not those two, anyway." Castor shrugged.
"So, they invited you to the meeting. Where is this meeting taking place?" he asked, curiously.
"At the Church of the Holy Trinity." Luke smirked.
"What? Ha! What a bunch of fools!" Nichol chuckled.
"Indeed, Nic." Nottingham smirked.
"Luke asked if they were expecting a large turnout. Sygrid said that many of the members disagreed with the venue choice and weren't planning to attend." Castor said.
"I guess those are the contingent of them who actually possess brains." Nottingham scoffed.
"Agreed, Milord. But, he also said that the rest were hesitant to show without Gunter to lead them. Ingram added that one of the agenda topics involves discussion of a new venue option for future meetings." Luke nodded.
"Right. So, what did you tell them after they invited you?" he asked.
"We said we might stop by to see what all the fuss is about." Luke said.
"You're damn right, Luke. You two will be there, as well as your reinforcements." the Sheriff grinned, deviously.
"We thought you might say that, Milord." Luke nodded.
"When exactly is this meeting set to take place?" he asked.
"Ingram told us a few hours after sundown, Milord." Castor said.
"Looks like we're going to church tomorrow night." Mordrid smirked.
"Indeed, Mordrid. We'll go over those details shortly." the Sheriff nodded. He then looked to Luke and Castor. "Sounds like you two had a very interesting time at the market." he smirked.
"Ha! I'll say!" Gerad scoffed.
"That's insane that you had people calling your name, and asking for your autograph, mate." Alex chuckled.
"That wasn't even the worst of it, oddly." Luke sneered, with a knowing quirk of his brow.
"What do you mean, Luke?" Richard asked, curiously.
"Well, one young woman about the age of Flo — quite young, wanted to know if I was available to court her, basically. And then, she wanted to know how to find me." Luke responded, shaking his head.
"Ye make a good point, Luke. That was strange as hell." Castor nodded.
"It was bleeding creepy, Cas!" Luke exclaimed. Then, he looked around the table to everyone gathered. "It was bloody deranged, and I'm not being funny about it." Luke huffed.
"And, how did you respond, Luke?" the Sheriff asked, pointedly.
"I didn't quite know what to say. I told her she could find me at Charlie's tavern — from time to time. Should have told her to sod off." Luke said.
"Yeah. That part kind of bothered me, too. But she was very young, so I chalked it up to that." Castor added with a shrug.
"Agreed. And, even that wasn't the worst of it." Luke scoffed with a knowing quirk of his brow.
"What happened?" Ancel asked.
"Oh, right. Ye must mean the man at the end of the madness, oversharing about his — " Castor started to say.
"Let's just forget it, Cas." Luke said, firmly.
"What? What did the bloke tell you about?" Mordrid chuckled.
"He said he was there at the tavern with his wife last night. Mentioned how much they enjoyed "Lucas'" performance… " Castor began. He hooked the first two fingers of each of his hands in the air at the mention of Luke's alias.
"Castor! Can we just forget it? I may actually ret — " Luke started to argue, but was cut off.
"He then went on to say that they went home directly after Luke's show. He next told us his wife was all over him. Wouldn't leave him alone. Said he hadn't had a night like that since his wedding night; so, he thanked Luke." Castor smirked.
"I think I may vomit." Luke sighed.
"Good for you for spreading the love around, Luke!" Gerad chortled.
Everyone gathered began to howl with laughter.
The Sheriff stood from the table and walked over to the desk, still chuckling. He opened the drawer, and began a search through the documents he kept in there. He grabbed a rolled parchment and took it over to the table, as the men were still having a laugh about Luke's sudden fame around town.
He set the scroll on the table in front of Robert.
"We have two new names, Robert, and another I don't think we checked off yet." the Sheriff began. "Find Sygrid and Ingram in this members list, and jot an asterisk beside their names. Next, be sure to put a check mark beside Wolfstan Cross, since we finally got the cretin." the Sheriff instructed him.
"Got it." Robert nodded. He took the scroll from him and began to unfurl it.
The Sheriff took the opportunity to lean down, close to Robert's ear, since everyone else was still too preoccupied in uproarious jocularity to notice him.
"What really happened, Robert? I don't buy the wee fall story." the Sheriff asked, quietly.
"I fainted." Robert whispered.
"What?" he asked, incredulously.
"The banter between my wife and Thomas… it was too… detailed, frankly. I'll tell you more later." Robert whispered.
The Sheriff nodded and returned to his chair, as Robert began scanning the document for the names Luke and Castor just provided them.
"Alright, men. It's time to get serious now." Nottingham ordered them, his voiced raised to gain their attention.
The men composed themselves and took heed of him.
"Good. Before tomorrow night's venture we have one coming up shortly, since it's now nearing the gloaming. So, let's start with what is known so far." he began.
"All we really know so far is that there's three shady characters by the names of Finn, Faramond, and Osworth who work for you. One wasn't vetted, and the other two slack off. Isn't that about right?" Nichol pointed out.
"What I know is that Faramond, the horse groomer and trainer bloke, is actually a Jesus bloke, Nic." the Sheriff said, firmly.
"You spoke to Gervase, I take it." Nichol sighed.
"Indeed." he nodded, then addressed the rest of his men. "It's confirmed. We have a sodding Jesus bloke working in the stables. He tried to recruit Gervase!" the Sheriff spat.
"Curses!" Duke Farnsworth muttered.
"But, Gervase declined?" Nichol asked.
"Gervase thought they were meeting every fortnight for a bible study since Father Titlittle was perpetually in attendance, and he had better things to do on Thursday nights. Said he got enough of that on Sundays." the Sheriff scoffed.
"Good. So, we can cross Gervase off the list of possible moles." Ancel said.
"Indeed. So, I'm guessing it's either Faramond, or one of those night duty guards who provided the floor plans to the Jesus blokes. My money is on Faramond at the moment, but we shall see. That's what Operation Sundown is about." the Sheriff said.
"Next, we must find out whom has been backing them. Someone's giving them a good deal of money for those weapons." Nichol said.
"Which is going to be one of the pointed questions I have for Faramond, and any other confirmed cult followers — in the dungeon, and possibly the indolent night duty guards." the Sheriff nodded.
"Indeed." Guy sneered.
"I've been taking notes, while also scanning through this members list, Milord. I've checked off that Cross bloke, and Ive found the two others listed here." Robert spoke up, while indicating the document in front of him.
"Good. Enlighten us. What are their full names?" the Sheriff asked.
"Sygrid Capron, and Ingram Malek." Robert said as he dipped the quill in the ink jar. He quickly jotted an asterisk beside the two names.
"I see." he nodded, then he turned to Luke. "And, I trust you didn't divert to a different alias than 'Lucas', did you, Luke?" he asked.
"No. I stuck with that one." Luke said.
"And you, Castor?"
"I told them my name is Gryffen, Milord." Castor nodded.
"Good. You two will stick with those names and whatever story you fed them, tomorrow night." the Sheriff instructed. Then, he looked to Robert. "While you're at it, be sure to cross off Artorus Becker and Hubert Rowntree on that members list. Also, look for that Fulke bloke's name and cross him off, too. None of them shall be a problem anymore since they're all suffering from a case of death." he commented dryly, with a knowing smirk.
"Of course, Milord." Robert nodded. He dipped his quill in the ink jar once more.
"If, for some queer reason you find more than one bloke named Fulke listed, jot a question mark beside all the cursed Fulkes, Robert. All the stupid fulking Fulkes." the Sheriff added.
Some of the men began to chuckle amongst themselves.
"Uh… of course, Milord." Robert nodded, though he regarded him curiously.
"It's a long damn list, Robert. We will be sure there's only one fulking Fulke listed before you strike out the name." the Sheriff explained.
Many of those gathered were having a time attempting to conceal their laughter.
"Right. I figured that out, Milord. It will be done." Robert said. He cast his eyes to the document once more.
"And, while you're at it, you shall look for the names Finn, Faramond, and Osworth." the Sheriff added.
"I'm looking now, Milord. Just crossed off Fulke since there is only one. Hmm." Robert muttered as he held the document up in front of him. "Yep. Here's that Faramond bloke. Again, only one with that name. Faramond Draper."
"Asterisk that one for now. What about the others?" he pressed.
"I see an Osworth Orphelin listed. There's no one else with that given name, nor the same surname." Robert said.
"Thank Zeus for that. Asterisk that one, too." the Sheriff instructed.
Robert jotted the asterisk beside the name, then scanned the document once more.
"Don't see anyone with the given name Finn. Not even anything passing as a long form of that name, Milord." Robert said.
"Good. We're still going to detain him for questioning, because I learned long ago to trust nothing in matters such as these." the Sheriff said, firmly.
"Understood, Milord." Robert nodded.
"There's the bloke I know." Nichol muttered, quietly.
Nottingham looked to Nichol and smirked. Then, he surreptitiously winked at him.
The Sheriff turned to his right to address his Lieutenant.
"We will question this Finn bloke straightway so that he doesn't have time to come up with a lie. Since, he's the unconfirmed Jesus bloke. He might be a new recruit to the cult whom hasn't yet been added to the list. We'll know better after he's questioned. Don't give him a second to coordinate his story with his comrade. The other two we're going to let stew down there as we did with His Holy Instigatorness." the Sheriff instructed.
"Of course, Milord. It will be done." Guy nodded.
"Milord, if I may?" Luke interrupted.
"Yes, Luke?"
"Did… anyone think to check if… those Rothwell blokes were listed there?" Luke asked, nodding to the document that Robert was currently scanning.
Robert looked up, holding the document in his hands.
"I don't believe we did." the Sheriff nodded. He turned to Robert. "Robert?"
"Already on top of that, Milord." Robert replied, casting his eyes on the document before him. He set it back on the table, shook his head, and dipped the quill in the ink jar. "They're all right here, Milord. Listed alphabetically, it seems." Robert scoffed. "Someone's organized!" a beat. "Yes. Thurstan, Tobias, and Tylan Rothwell. I'll cross out the mummer who posed as a Lord, and put a check beside Tobias. Do you want an asterisk beside Tylan's name? Or, do you want confirmation of his whereabouts first?"
"God's nightgown!" Guy exclaimed.
"Doesn't surprise me, and Im not being funny about it." Luke shrugged.
"Who are these Rothwell blokes they're talking about?" Richard asked Mordrid, quietly.
"We'll fill you in later, mate." Mordrid whispered
"Don't need confirmation. Two of my men can identify him — Drake and Adam. Plus, we got the demon seed spawn of the dead mummer bloke in the dungeon."
"Tobias Rothwell." Robert nodded.
"Also known as bleeding Toby Rothrogers." he scoffed. "As for the uncle, we know the bloke's name. We got his nephew, Toby, to taunt until he cracks; and two men can identify him. We'll get that bloke. Asterisk that bloke's name. Traitorous, mendacious cretin!" the Sheriff spat.
"Got it, Milord." Robert nodded.
"Now, we shall discuss our strategy for handling the portcullis." the Sheriff began, addressing them collectively. "Everyone, pay attention. Also, once this has been handled, my Lieutenant and I shall meet with the two Advisors, the Captain, and the three top men, here in these chambers. Robert will be heading up part of that one, and then, I have another piece of news. Now, here's how we're going to handle Operation Sundown… "
He could tell it was still dark when he started to awaken, but he could see a faint orange glow beyond his eyelids. He guessed the glow came from torch light. Nigel slowly opened them and started to scan the room. He observed his lady slumped in a chair by the window. She was wearing a navy blue tartan wool gown. He smiled. He wanted to go to her, but there was considerable pain present.
"Hey, gorgeous." he called out to her, softly.
She instantly jolted awake and opened her eyes. Her eyes widened when she noticed he was alert. She smiled and swiftly went to him.
"Nigel!" Aeleanna exclaimed, softly. She sat on the bed beside him and held his hand. "How do you feel?"
"Sore, hungry, and… forgive me, but… I need to pi — pass water." Nigel sighed. "Where's the… smothering healer posse?"
"Your father is in your den. He just summoned Lady Margaret to come out and give him an update. You've got about another hour before the leech change and your wine dose." Aeleanna said.
"For fuck's sake, Leanna. Why the… hell is… Lady Margaret here?" Nigel sighed, shaking his head.
"She's a midwife who is studying to be a medicus under the tutelage of Master Crumwell. She assisted them during the… arrow removal process. She's also, apparently, married to one of your comrades. Not sure which one, however. She's been observing you, as have I."
"I know. She's… James' wife. Well, I'm fine with… you observing. I only wanted… you in here. Why is she involved? I was only… napping for a… brief time. It's still dark." Nigel pointed out. He was confused because he was certain Lady Margaret was meant to be minding the Sheriff's and Lady Rhiannon's child.
"My love, many hours have passed. It's sundown. Wednesday." Aeleanna explained.
"What?" he asked, incredulously.
"Yes. You had a raging fever. I think it's starting to break now." she smiled.
"No wonder… I need to… pass water! That's going to… be fun trying to… get up from this… cursed bed." Nigel frowned.
"I must alert your father, Nigel."
"No. I can… do this, Leanna." he argued, firmly.
"He needs to know you've awakened. If your fever has reduced, perhaps they can reconsider adding fresh leeches with the next change out? Also, I want his permission to give you a drop of opium before we assist you out of that bed." Aeleanna explained.
"I don't… need assistance."
"You will, Nigel. You've been laying down since that cursed arrow hit you." Aeleanna pointed out.
"Fine. Make it quick. It's been many… hours since… I've relieved myself." Nigel sighed.
"Very well."
"Nice gown. Don't think I've… seen that one before?" he remarked.
"You haven't. Lady Rhiannon kindly loaned it to me while mine is being laundered."
"You look… amazing." Nigel smiled.
"Thank you. Now, there's something I should warn you of, so that you're not caught unawares." Aeleanna sighed.
"What's that?"
"While you were sleeping, your brother came by. He was here quite early in the day. Just before dawn, I believe. Your father sent him away, but… "
"Great." Nigel exhaled sharply. "But… what, Leanna?"
"He's due back to visit you. He made arrangements with the Sheriff and your father to return here at the gloaming, and… the gloaming has now come." Aeleanna said with a knowing quirk of her brow.
"Seriously? For… fuck's sake, Leanna! Can I not… get a moment's peace?"
"You have had peace, lover — for several hours."
"No. Peace is us being… left alone. You said I had… Lady Margaret… hovering in here. I'm tired of… all these damn people… looming over me!" he huffed.
"Just visit with him a few moments, Nigel. Then, you can pretend you're sleepy, or something. It will be alright. I shall be here." Aeleanna said, attempting to assuage him.
"Very well. I hope he hasn't… sent a… message off to… Sera. It would be… something he would… do. Fuck. I… love my sister… but, she'll… drive me to… madness, Leanna!"
"We shall cross that bridge when we come to it. I must speak to Master Rainecourt." she said as she started to get up from the bed.
Nigel grabbed her arm and gently pulled her to him.
"Nigel? What is it?" Aeleanna asked.
"I'm really… glad you're here. Thank you… Leanna." he smiled, then softly kissed her cheek.
"There's nowhere else I'd rather be, Nigel." she whispered. Then, she bent down and softly kissed his lips.
"Leanna… you're the… only cure I need." Nigel whispered.
"I swear… it's like someone else came along and took over your body ever since you came to see me yesterday before all of… this happened." Aeleanna said, slowly shaking her head in bewilderment.
"I'm not… addled, Leanna — from… losing blood, or from… whatever medicaments they're… giving me. Told you. I finally saw… the truth." Nigel said as he squeezed her hand.
"I'm still getting you a drop of opium before we get you up so that you can… relieve yourself." Aeleanna smirked.
"Alright, gorgeous." Nigel smiled.
The meeting was just finishing up in the Council Quarters when the Scribe was shown in by the sentry.
"Yes, Scribe. What is it?" the Sheriff asked.
"Noah Rainecourt has returned to see Nigel, Milord." the Scribe said.
"Where is he now?"
"He is seated on a bench in the corridor, Milord."
"Good." he nodded. He then looked to Richard. "You know him, I take it?"
"Yes, Milord." Richard nodded.
"Take him up to Nigel's chambers, Richard. You may take a few moments to see Nigel, if he's awake. Do not linger in there. Make your visit brief. I need you in position." the Sheriff instructed.
Richard stood from his seat and nodded in deference to him.
"Of course, Milord." Richard said. Then, he walked toward the door to head out with the Scribe.
The Sheriff stood from his chair..
"Scratch that, Richard. We shall both escort Noah to Nigel's rooms. I want a word with Leofwin while you offer a quick greeting to Nigel — if he has awakened, that is."
"Very well, Milord." Richard nodded.
"The rest of you, start taking position. We shall join you forthwith." the Sheriff directed them.
Everyone nodded their agreement and began to get up from the table, as the Sheriff and Richard followed the Scribe outside the meeting chamber.
Ten minutes later, the Sheriff, Richard and Noah were in Nigel's den speaking with Leofwin and Lady Margaret.
"How is he, Leofwin? Has he awakened?" the Sheriff asked.
"That's what I'd like to know." Noah added.
"He's in the bath chamber. Using the privy in there. Aela is waiting outside the door, in case she needs to summon for me. He awakened a short time ago." Leofwin nodded.
"We administered a drop of opium before helping him up. He was having quite a bit of pain." Lady Margaret said.
"Maybe something is wrong? Father?" Noah asked, fretfully.
"I've examined him, Son. There's no sign of internal bleeding. This is just… normal post operative pain. Remember, his muscle was sliced by the arrow, and cut further to free it. He will be tender there for a number of days." Leofwin said.
The Sheriff began to feel slightly queasy at the mention of Nigel's muscle being ripped and cut. He looked to Richard, then softly sighed. Richard's face became pallid.
"Yes. Quite right, Father." Noah nodded. He noticed Richard shifting in discomfiture and looking to the floor, his palm over his mouth.
"Are you… quite yourself, Richard?" Noah asked.
"Yes. Just a little… indigestion, I think." Richard said, smoothly. He took subtle slow deep breaths to stay the urge to gag.
"I suggest you send for peppermint tea, Richard. It will help soothe your belly." Lady Margaret smiled.
"Right. Thank you, Lady Margaret. I'll try that later." Richard nodded.
Just then, Lady Aeleanna emerged from the bedchamber.
"He safely made it back to bed, Master Rainecourt." Aeleanna announced.
"Very good." Leofwin smiled.
"Oh. Good evening, Noah." Aeleanna nodded when she noticed Nigel's brother in the room.
"Good even, Aela. Thanks for being here for him." Noah smiled. Then, he looked to his father. "I'd like to see him, Father."
"So would I." Richard said.
"Are you needed somewhere, lad?" Leofwin asked Richard.
"He is. We have something to take care of after he says a quick hello to Nigel. I shall see Nigel another time. I came to get an update from you." the Sheriff explained.
"Very well. You go first, Richard." Leofwin suggested.
"Thank you." Richard nodded, then headed to the bedchamber. He stopped and turned to face Aeleanna. "Are you coming, Lady Aeleanna?"
"Not just now. I'll give you fellows a moment alone." Aeleanna smiled.
Richard nodded and proceeded inside the bedchamber.
The Sheriff looked to Aeleanna, suddenly noticing her gown.
"That's a very lovely gown, Milady. I could swear my wife owns one that looks identical to it. Is that… possible?"
"This is Lady Rhiannon's gown, Milord Sheriff. She kindly loaned it to me, insisting I have my own gown laundered. I… looked an absolute disheveled mess when she and Lady Isabelle stopped by to see me earlier." Aeleanna explained.
"Good. I'm glad the ladies checked in on you." the Sheriff said. Though, he wondered whom was minding his son during that time, since he knew Lady Margaret was at Nigel's bedside since before dawn?
"Indeed, Milord. It was definitely needed. Your wife insisted that Aela take a break, and they took her to your rooms. When Aela returned, she looked like a brand new lady, dressed in this fresh, fine gown, and her hair had been re… coiffed." Leofwin smiled.
"Indeed Master Rainecourt. She is very kind and thoughtful." Aeleanna agreed.
"Good. I'm glad she took care of that. She is wise." the Sheriff smiled, proudly.
"She's a lovely lady. I can tell you think that, too, Milord. When you speak of her, you remind me of what I once had with my wife, Morganna. Treasure her, Milord." Leofwin smiled.
"I do, Leofwin. Thank you." the Sheriff nodded.
Richard quietly approached the bed. His mate was reclined against pillows. His eyes were closed, and his knees drawn up under his blankets, and a grimace was upon his face.
"Nigel?" Richard asked softly when he arrived to the bedside.
Nigel opened his green eyes and looked up at him.
"Ah. There you are, mate." Nigel smiled, ruefully. "How was… your day? Sit."
Richard nodded and seated himself in the chair beside the bed.
"Pain?" Richard asked.
"Yes. It's… fine. It reminds me… that… I'm alive."
"You don't need to bear it, mate. Why did you only take one drop of opium before getting up out of bed? I'm sure you're permitted two drops in a case like this." Richard pointed out.
"It's… fucking poison, mate. I'll survive." Nigel said, while lightly massaging his belly. "How was… it today?"
"I was in Sherwood with the Captain and Alex. Looking for that funny looking ginger fugitive." Richard said.
"Did you go… to the Curve?" Nigel asked.
"We did. The Sheriff specifically asked us to check there based on your comments about that yesterday."
"Good. Any luck?"
"He had been in there. We found a blood trail inside there running in two directions to and fro, and some of his foul wrappings from whatever cursed wound he's nursing." Richard said, making a face at the mention of the rags found on the floor of the cave.
"Good. So, you followed the… blood trail, then?" Nigel asked.
"We couldn't. The blood trail was destroyed outside of the cave."
"Oh, right. Probably rain. It rains… a lot this time… of year." Nigel said.
"No. It wasn't rain. We had a ton of snow today, mate."
"Really?"
"Yes. We found a group of people in there, smoking it up and drinking."
"Cursed… godsflesh mushrooms… no doubt." Nigel scoffed.
"Indeed. One of them asked about you." Richard hinted with a knowing quirk of his brow.
"Whom?"
"Mistress Sophronia. Said she hadn't seen you since mid winter last." Richard smirked.
"Fuck! What did you… tell her, mate? I don't want… her to know… I'm back. Last thing I need are… fucking consorts… bothering me!" Nigel huffed.
"It's fine, Nigel. I told her you've been away on assignment. Which is actually true, but, she thinks you're still away."
"Good. I've got a… good thing going… with Leanna. She hasn't… left my side. Except… when Lady Rhiannon… took her away for… a short break. Don't need… any consorts… ruining what I have… with my girl."
"Good for you, mate. You finally got wise to that fact." Richard grinned.
"Damn straight, mate. Thinking you're… going to die… changes every… thought process. You'd be… surprised what… I think about now." Nigel said, his eyebrow raised, knowingly.
"Really?"
"Yes. I'll enlighten you… when I'm feeling… better." Nigel smirked, his green eyes twinkling.
"Don't change too much, mate. You were fine as you were."
"No, I wasn't… mate. But, I'm seeing my… way more… clearly now. You best… hold on tight."
"Damn. Can't you hint at what you're meaning, Nigel?" Richard coaxed him.
"Not yet. I can't… plan anything until… I'm feeling… fit again. But, I am changed."
"Of course, you are. You nearly bleeding died, mate!" Richard exclaimed, quietly.
"But, I didn't. And, my Leanna… shall be… rewarded for… her steadfast devotion. She's a… fucking… gift to me, mate." Nigel nodded.
"I would agree, Nigel. I shouldn't keep you. Noah is waiting, and — "
"Who told… him to come? Curses!"
"Your father left him a note before we left his manor. I assumed it was meant for Noah. We had just made contact with him, and he was coming here to assist." Richard explained.
"I see." he sighed. "What else were… you about to say?" Nigel asked, curiously.
"I need to be at the portcullis soon." Richard sighed.
"The hell for, Richard? Did he… demote you? The fu — "
"Many of us will be there — including him." Richard said, his eyebrow raised, knowingly.
"What's going on?" Nigel demanded.
"Emory and Beric ended up pulling nearly a double shift yesterday, mate."
"What? Why does that… require a… group response? Why doesn't he… just sack whoever… obviously didn't… show for duty?" Nigel asked, genuinely bewildered.
"There's much more to it than that, mate. A few shady characters involved, and that's about all I can say. It's not my place to. Milord should be the one to explain that one to you." Richard said.
"Have you gone… bleeding daft? You might think… I'm enfeebled, but… I am still… a Black Knight!" Nigel stated, firmly.
"It's still early in the investiga — "
"Who didn't… bother turning up… for portcullis duty?" Nigel sighed, folding his arms.
"Nigel — "
"Who, Richard?"
"Not sure if you know them. Finn and Osworth." Richard finally relented.
"Yes. I know them. Some of the men think… Alfred is the… useless one. They are mistaken. The two you… mentioned, particularly Osworth… are the useless ones." Nigel scoffed.
"So, it would seem. I best take leave. I need to take position on the lower part of the stairwell. That's where I begin. Then, I'll be joining everyone as we all arrive to the portcullis." Richard explained.
"Sounds… quite contrived. Wish I … could join you all." Nigel sighed.
"You shall — if you pay attention to what the healer team tells you, mate. Anyway, Milord Sheriff is waiting for me. He said he will see you later. Also, your brother is waiting." Richard said.
"Lucky me. Come back later… when Brother dearest… is out of sight." Nigel smirked.
"I will. But, I won't bother you if you're sleeping."
"I've had… enough of that, mate. Sleep is for… the weak." Nigel said.
"Not right now, it's not. You almost died, mate. You need rest, and anything else your father and Master Crumwell recommend." Richard advised, firmly.
"Don't get too… serious on me, mate. Since, I'm not… around to keep you… in line." Nigel said.
"Really?"
"Man, you're all… worried about… the rules, and now… you're lecturing me about… the healer posse." Nigel sighed.
"Because, if you heed their instructions, you might just be back to your normal self much sooner than expected. This isn't the time to dig your heels in the sand in the name of pride, mate." Richard said, firmly.
"News flash, mate. This is my… new normal. I'm changed. Once I'm… healed, it will be… for the better. I'll be me… but, better." Nigel smirked.
"Well, that was a relief to see a glimpse of the real you just now. Your current condition hasn't altered your arrogance any." Richard chuckled.
"It's not… arrogance, mate. It's like… I can finally see… after being blind, but… not even knowing… I was walking around… blind." Nigel explained.
"Jesus, mate. I better summon your father. You're not well!" Richard whispered, urgently.
"Relax, Richard. I'm fine. All is… well." Nigel smiled.
Just then, there was a sharp knock on the bedchamber doors. The doors opened and Nottingham strolled inside the bedchamber.
"Forgive me, Milord. I was just coming out." Richard said as he stood from the chair at the bedside.
The Sheriff nodded, then looked to Nigel.
"Are you alright, lad?" he asked Nigel.
"Yes, Milord. I am… getting there." Nigel nodded.
"I'm pleased to see it, Nigel. Keep following all of their directives." the Sheriff said, nodding behind him to the doors, indicating Leofwin and Lady Margaret out in the den. "I need to borrow Richard now. We have an appointment at the portcullis. And before that, he has an appointment on the bottom risers of the stairs." he grinned, nodding to Richard.
"Milord, what is… happening at… the portcullis?" Nigel asked, directly.
"A couple of indolent fools who don't belong in our ranks, Nigel. Plus, two sodding Jesus blokes are among us. We're going to deal with them. I'll fill you in later." the Sheriff said.
"Damn! How did… I miss so… much in… only one day?"
"Yes, lad. A lot has happened. Do not worry. I will still keep you informed. Right now isn't the time, however. We're going to go and get that sorted, and you must focus on recovering. Plus, your brother is — "
They were interrupted by the bedchamber doors opening once more, and Noah Rainecourt walked into the room.
"Fuck." Nigel muttered.
"Brother? What the hell is that all over your face?" Noah asked curiously, as he approached the bedside.
"It's fine, Noah. I guess… Leanna must have forgotten… to wash it… off me." Nigel shrugged.
"Is that… an earbob on your ear? " Noah asked, incredulously. "What the hell were you doing when you got shot? Were you at some sort of masquerade party?"
"Really, Noah? That is… what you choose… to focus on?" Nigel sighed, folding his arms.
"He was working, Noah. He was on a very important assignment with Richard, and two others. Many of us were there to back them up." the Sheriff said.
"Oh. I see. Sort of." Noah said, shaking his head.
"I will visit with you properly later, lad. If you're asleep when I return, I'll be here on the morrow." the Sheriff said, addressing Nigel.
"That would be… fine, Milord. There is something I… think I would like… to talk to you… about." Nigel said, softly.
Richard narrowed his blue eyes, curiously. He wondered what Nigel was referring to?
"We shall confer then, lad. Focus on rest and following their directives in the meantime. We must go." the Sheriff said. He nodded for Richard to follow him out.
As they were leaving the bedchamber the Sheriff looked down and smirked when he heard Nigel make a comment to his brother:
"Tell me you… did not send… word to Sera! She will… drive me bloody… insane, Noah!"
The Sheriff was pleased to see that nothing was altering Nigel's mind. Not even pain. Then, he realized that Nigel was probably inured to pain from pushing himself to the limit with his training regime. He sighed. He hoped Nigel's recovery would be quick.
Twenty minutes later, everyone was impatiently holding their positions, waiting for the night duty guards to show. Finally, the two men assigned night duty at the portcullis came from the Dining Hall . As they drew closer before exiting the front door, they noticed Richard poised on the bottom risers of the stairs. He was leaning slightly over the railing while speaking to Luke and Castor.
"Tell Nigel we said hello, and to get well, mate!" Castor said.
"Right. Tell him we'll drop by tomorrow." Luke added.
"Cheers, men. I'll tell him." Richard smiled.
Osworth and Finn looked to each other curiously, while side eyeing the three men they were about to pass.
"Since when is Luke chummy with either of those two? And, especially Nigel?" Osworth whispered to his mate.
"The four of them trained with Nichol on Sunday. Plus, you know how Luke is — the friendliest Black Knight ever. I agree, though. It's a bit… weird." Finn whispered a reply.
They nodded to the three men as they walked past them.
The three men nodded to them briefly, then resumed their fake conversation in a quieter tone than before. After a few moments had passed, Luke nodded for Richard and Castor to follow him.
The men quietly began to follow the two night guards, staying about twenty feet behind them.
Osworth and Finn passed through the front doors. Some ten yards ahead and to their left they noticed Gerad and Alex speaking to Mordrid and Ancel. Gerad pushed his raven black hair from his vivid blue eyes and caught sight of the two men. He nodded a greeting to them, then looked to the three men he was engaged in a pretend conversation with.
"They're coming. Richard, Luke, and Cas are tailing them." Gerad whispered to them.
The two night guards smiled at the men as they passed by. The four men nodded to them in response.
"It's about bleeding time!" Alex whispered.
Mordrid nodded for the other three to follow him, and they began to slowly pursue the two men, about ten feet behind them, with Richard, Luke, and Castor coming up the rear.
Finally, they joined Emory and Beric at the portcullis.
"We're here now. You two are relieved of duty." Osworth said.
"Cheers! Good of you to let us know you're here to save the day." Emory scoffed.
"Indeed. And, only about an hour late tonight. That's some kind of bleeding miracle, I'd say!" Beric chortled.
"What? What the hell are you two getting at?" Finn demanded.
"Just pointing out the obvious. We won't be covering for the pair of you anymore." Emory said, firmly.
"Are you two looking for a fight?" Osworth asked, pointedly. He unsheathed his sword and pointed the blade in their direction.
"I'd drop your weapon if I were you." Drake called out to him. He was seated on the bough of a tree about six feet off the ground, along with Adam, just across the snow covered dirt path from where the portcullis was located
And then, there was a loud thud sound when Drake and Adam landed on the ground, having jumped from the tree. They advanced toward the two men, their swords pointed towards them.
"Drop your steel, Osworth." Mordrid called out.
Osworth and Finn shook their heads as they observed Mordrid, Ancel, Gerad, Alex, Richard, Luke and Castor coming at them from the opposite direction, each with their sword in hand. All of the men formed a wide circle, surrounding the two of them.
Osworth kept his blade pointed outward, while slowly turning in a circle in a futile attempt to show he was prepared to fight.
"Ah! What have we here, men?" the Sheriff's voice called out, startling the two men.
The Sheriff, Guy, and the Captain came out from behind the trees across the snow covered path in front of the portcullis and were now joined in the fray.
"Bah! I see a pair of fools who don't deserve the privilege of wearing those uniforms." Guy sneered.
"Indeed, Gis." Nottingham said. Then, he looked to Osworth. "Drop your weapon right now. We both know you're not fit to defend yourself against any man here. Dear Zeus! The state of you. It's astonishing that you can even lift that damn thing!" Nottingham scoffed, nodding to the sword.
Osworth stared at him a moment, then prepared to slide his blade into his scabbard.
"No. I said: drop it. You won't be needing that anymore." the Sheriff said.
"What?" Osworth asked. He dropped the sword on the ground.
"Thanks. I'll take that." Guy sneered at him, then he bent down and picked up the sword.
Duke Farnsworth swiftly moved toward Finn and motioned for him to hand his weapon over. Finn sighed, and reluctantly unsheathed his sword, passing it to him.
"What is the meaning of this?" Osworth demanded.
The Sheriff inched in closer to him and grabbed him by his collar.
"You're not in a position to ask questions. We ask the damn questions now. Oh, and good for you for accruing yet another charge — threatening my men with your sword." the Sheriff hissed.
"I'm one of your men, Milord! What's this about charges?" Osworth asked, trepidatiously.
"Ha! You think so, do you?" the Sheriff chortled. He looked to his Lieutenant. "This is going to be even more amusing than I thought! Be sure he gets the royal treatment in the special… suite awaiting him in the dungeon, Gis."
"Indeed, Milord. T'will be my honour." Guy chuckled. He grabbed Osworth, as Alex bound the man's wrists behind his back with a length of rope he pulled from the pocket of his surcoat.
"Wait… what?" Osworth asked, his voice shaking with fear.
"Milord?" Finn asked. He tried to wrestle from the restraint hold Mordrid had on him, while Gerad was using a length of rope to bind his wrists behind his back.
"I have one question for you two pair of wasters before I get you settled in your new… rooms. Where's your buddy, Faramond?" the Sheriff demanded.
"Milord?" Osworth asked.
Finn looked at him and shrugged.
"Don't think I don't know that you three have been in collusion. That's fine. We'll get to the bottom of it. Enjoy your stay." Nottingham hissed.
"Milord? No!" Osworth shouted.
"What?" Finn questioned.
"Take them away, men." the Sheriff commanded Mordrid, Gerad, Guy, and Alex.
The men nodded and proceeded to escort the pair away.
"Mordrid. Gerad. You're taking the shorter one to the Council Quarters first. We'll begin the questions in there before we place him in the dungeon." the Sheriff said.
"Of course, Milord." Mordrid agreed.
Gerad nodded.
"On your way inside, keep him well away from the scrawny ginger one that Guy and Alex are managing." he added.
The two men nodded, and waited a moment or two for the Lieutenant and Alex to gain a solid lead on them.
Finn squinted his eyes, looking to Mordrid, Gerad, and then observing his comrade being taken away. He was furious with himself for not tearing himself away from Osworth's and Faramond's schemes the night before. He should have known they were up to no good. He wished he had never tagged along with them.
The Sheriff looked to Emory and Beric.
"I hope you two rested up?" he asked, quietly. His eyebrow shot north, knowingly.
"Yes, Milord. I grabbed a couple hours. Didn't want to overdo it so I could resume a normal schedule this night." Emory whispered.
"My answer echoes his for the very same reason, Milord." Beric said, nodding beside him to Emory.
"Good. It seems you both would know this Faramond bloke better than anyone. Except for the pair of fools we're currently tossing in the dungeon, you men would see him the most. So, stay at this post for the next two hours, or until the trainer bloke arrives. Whichever comes first. If he's still not here in two hours, Gerad and Alex will take over. This is all just temporary, because in the meantime, the Captain shall be finding me two capable men to take over the cursed night duty here." the Sheriff said, firmly.
"Very well, Milord." Emory nodded.
"Of course, Milord." Beric agreed.
"I'll start heading inside now. I'll inform Gerad and Alex, then find two to send here for night duty." Duke Farnsworth said.
"Good." the Sheriff nodded. "And, do not tarry, Duke. We're meeting with the Advisors, the top men, and that Fish bloke is gong to join us for, hopefully, a brief question period. Once he's taken away, we have two important matters of business to discuss. One of which is being presented by Robert." the Sheriff added.
"Duly noted. And… whom is Fish bloke, my Lord?" Duke Farnsworth asked, curiously.
"That failure of a Black Knight we'll be questioning in the Council Quarters forthwith."
"It's Finn, my Lord." the Captain corrected him.
"Whatever! Fish. Finn. I hear the name, I think of fish. It matters not. One more thing. Once Alex returns from the dungeon with Gis, have him take over from Mordrid and assist Gerad with guarding that Fish bloke. Mordrid is needed to remain at our meeting after the bloke is taken away, and I want two of our men on him in case he tries anything funny." the Sheriff said, firmly.
"It will be done." the Captain nodded. Then, he took his leave to begin his tasks.
"You two will be sure to describe this Faramond character to Gerad and Alex before you leave your posts here. Am I clear?" the Sheriff instructed Emory and Beric.
Both men nodded, then commenced their duties at the portcullis.
The rest of the men were gathered close by, and looked to the Sheriff for their directives.
"Richard, didn't you mention earlier today that you are familiar with the pair who were just taken away?" the Sheriff asked.
"Yes, Milord. That is correct." Richard nodded.
"Do you think Nigel knows them at all?"
"He does, Milord. We're not friendly with them like we are with… well, everyone who participated with this venture, but, we're both acquainted with them." Richard explained.
"Good. Then, you shall be present at the meeting in the Council Quarters. You can help us gauge if that Fish bloke is lying." he instructed.
"Very well." Richard nodded.
"Drake, Adam, and Castor, you are all free until the morrow. Luke, Ancel, you're heading to the Council Quarters." he said.
The men nodded, and they all made their way back toward the castle.
A short time later, the Sheriff, his Lieutenant, and his Captain were convened with the two Advisors, the top men, and Richard. Each of them were seated in their places at the table. Standing a short distance from the table, Gerad and Alex flanked either side of the newest prisoner, Finn.
"Ready, Robert?" Nottingham asked his brother in law.
"I am, Milord." Robert said, nodding to the parchment on the table in front of him. His quill was poised in his right hand, and his ink jar was at the ready.
"Good. Let us begin." he said, then looked to his prisoner. "State your name."
"It is Finn, Milord."
"Right. Your full name." the Sheriff sighed.
"Really?" Finn asked.
"Answer the damn question!"
"It is Finn Glanville."
"Good. So, tell us… Finn. Were you about to be added to the members list for the Christian Brotherhood blokes?" the Sheriff asked, pointedly. Then, he looked to Nichol. "Did I get the name right?" he asked, quietly.
"Indeed." Nichol nodded.
"The which, Milord?" Finn asked, quite confused by the question. He shook his head slowly. His soft brown hair glimmered from the light of the torches.
"Don't play coy with me. It never works. You know damn well what I refer to! Your two mates are up to their eyebrows in it!" he exclaimed. His eyes narrowed upon him in a scornful frown.
"That's their thing, Milord. I didn't want anything to do with it, once I pried some particulars about it from Osworth. I didn't even know there was a name attached to the group?" Finn shrugged.
"Is he for bleeding real?" Mordrid muttered to his mates.
"I can't tell. He makes no sense at all. Although, he hasn't broken eye contact, which only further confuses me." Luke whispered.
"He's either naive as fuck, or a very poor liar." Ancel sighed.
"Indeed. He's young. He looks even younger than Luke." Richard shrugged.
"And, clearly, not nearly as bright." Mordrid pointed out with a knowing quirk of his brow.
"You got that right, mate." Ancel whispered.
"Indeed." Richard agreed.
"Cheers, men." Luke whispered.
The Sheriff arose from his chair and slowly walked toward his prisoner.
"You must be jesting, right? This is not the time for you to jest! You and your mate were absent from your duties last night for several hours. Emory and Beric worked double duty covering for you two! That's not acceptable! Just what the fuck were you doing with Osworth and that bloody Faramond character all damn night… Finn?" the Sheriff demanded.
"We met with some of Faramond's mates at his home. Later in the evening, we went to the tavern." Finn said.
"What a coincidence." Mordrid smirked.
"Indeed." the Sheriff nodded.
"What do you mean? Am I missing something?" Finn asked.
The Sheriff narrowed his amber hazel eyes upon the young man, curiously.
"Just the obvious — some bits of your brain." the Sheriff said evenly, shaking his head.
"What is the coincidence?" Finn asked, genuinely bewildered.
"At what time of night were you there?" the Sheriff asked, impatiently.
"It was late. We were told there had been a really good Bard entertaining the patrons earlier in the night, but, he was long gone when we arrived." Finn shrugged.
"So, you're telling me you consorted with those two for several hours, and you didn't once feel a sense of guilt for abandoning your duties?" the Sheriff asked, incredulously.
"Osworth said he had it covered. That I shouldn't worry. Said we were granted approval for the time off, so I didn't worry about it. Those two were deep in discussion. I was concentrated on — "
"Nobody granted approval for you two to abandon your posts to go gallivanting into town to the damn tavern! I certainly did not." Nottingham said, evenly.
"I apologize. I did not know." Finn sighed, softly.
"And, what was it you were concentrated on at the tavern while your mates were deep in discussion?" Nottingham asked, pointedly.
"Edeva, Milord." Finn nodded.
"Whom?" the Sheriff asked. He squinted his eyes while slowly shaking his head.
"Ha! Oh, boy. Is he fucked." Ancel chuckled, quietly.
"She's a serving lady at the tavern. She's lovely. And, when she looks at me with those puppy dog brown eyes of hers — "
"Did you just compare a woman you're trying to put moves on — to a dog? Man, are you sure you were old enough to be one of us?" Mordrid chuckled.
The Sheriff had his eyebrow raised at Finn's wording. He shook his head and sighed.
"Forget it. You don't stand a chance. She's Slayer's mate." Ancel smirked.
"What?" the Sheriff asked, curiously.
"It's true, Milord. They're best mates, from what Edeva told us. She served us last night. Nigel made the mistake of calling her "love". She explained that only her best friend, Slayer, was permitted to address her as such." Richard added.
"Who is Slayer?" Finn asked.
"He works security at the tavern, and, he also works for me. He's on City Watch." the Sheriff said.
"Are they friends? Or, are they courting?" Finn asked Richard and Ancel.
"You think that matters right now? Are you really this obtuse, or is this your way of deflecting?" the Sheriff demanded. He reached across and yanked the collar of the young man's surcoat, pulling him toward him.
"No, Milord." Finn said, softly.
"Now. One more time. Are you with the Christian Brotherhood blokes?" the Sheriff asked, directly.
"No, but I… guess I'm friends with… two of them." Finn sighed.
"And, you never thought to report them to us?" he demanded.
"I didn't know what they were planning, Milord. I still don't. I stayed out of it. I was just glad for a night off, and to have a moment to converse with Edeva." Finn said.
"Which of you in this trifecta of losers provided the castle floor plans to the God damn Jesus blokes, Finn?" the Sheriff demanded.
"What? I don't know anything about floor pla — "
"Try again!" he barked.
"Floor plans… for what? I don't know about floor plans." Finn said, aghast at the news.
"Curses! Richard? What's your take on his answer?" the Sheriff asked, turning to face him. He maintained a tight grip on Finn's collar.
"I hate to say it, but I think he's being truthful with that." Richard shrugged.
"Fuck." Nichol muttered.
"This is going bleeding nowhere!" Guy said, shaking his head.
"Alright. Let's try another angle. Who is giving financial backing to these cult blokes, Finn?"
"Milord?" Finn asked, curiously.
"Who gave them a boat load of money to purchase a shed full of weapons… Finn?" the Sheriff demanded with a sneer.
"What? Weapons? Milord, I am unaware of these weapons you speak of." Finn said, shaking his head.
Nottingham let go of his collar. He exhaled sharply while folding his arms, still standing uncomfortably close.
"Are you bloody for real? You've been consorting with two confirmed Jesus blokes, and you're telling me you aren't privy to any of these important details? Explain to me how the hell that happened! Think carefully about your answer, because you're getting a choice to influence your outcome. There will be no choice for them. There is no coming back for either of those fools. They're on the shit list, and you're not listed on the shit list." the Sheriff said, sternly. He walked a few steps to the table and reached down in front of Robert and grabbed the members list, holding it up to show Finn, then put it back down. He slowly walked toward him.
"That was the members list. Your name isn't listed there. That's why you're being given the courtesy of stating your case to those of us present here in this meeting chamber. Your mates will be questioned, too, but in their isolated cells in the dungeon. Their answers won't matter a tinker's damn to their fate. It's only a formality. As for you, it could be that the sodding list hasn't yet been amended to include your name. Or, maybe you actually are naive as fuck? We don't know… Finn. That is why we're here. Don't waste our valuable time, and don't waste the rest of your life." a beat. "Who. Is. Backing them?" Nottingham demanded.
"Milord, I don't know any of those details. I don't know about the business side of it, political side, who funds them, anything about floor plans, and I didn't know it was so formal they had an actual list of memb — " Finn replied using rapid speech, but was interrupted.
"Remember I said you're getting a choice? Your choice is this: tell us the truth, or side with the fucking Jesus blokes… Finn." he sneered in disdain.
"Choose wisely, Finn." Mordrid said.
"He's right, lad. Prisoners aren't often questioned here in the Council Quarters." Duke Farnsworth said.
"I can only think of one." Guy said, nodding to Ancel.
"Indeed, Gis. That turned out very well, and proceeded quite differently from this session. Ancel was forthright the second he opened his mouth." the Sheriff nodded.
"Wait… Ancel was your prisoner initially?" Finn asked, incredulously.
"Man, what the fuck? It was the talk of everyone here! Are you obtuse, or did you have your head stuck up your own arse during that time?" Mordrid asked, pointedly.
"Right? It's been awhile now since you came on board, hasn't it, Ancel?" Luke asked.
"Yes. Almost a month." Ancel nodded.
"I knew there was a new recruit, but I didn't know the details. It's not my place to know those things." Finn shrugged.
"It's nice to know there was someone in the ranks who didn't question my authenticity." Ancel scoffed, then shrugged.
"I didn't question it, mate. Especially after the interview." Luke said, quietly.
"Cheers, mate." Ancel smirked.
"Funny thing about that… Finn. Much like you, Ancel was consorting with an outlaw. That's how it appeared. Except, he wasn't consorting. He was actually investigating the outlaw in order to stay steps ahead of him. He reported every minute detail to us. He told us the truth, and we have proof to back up everything he told us. That is why Ancel is one of the top men. When I first looked upon Ancel, I assumed he'd be placed in my dungeon. Instead, he was placed in a vacant room, and hired the following morning." he paused as his eyebrow shot north while he stared into his eyes. "Things aren't looking so bright and rosy for you, however… Finn." Nottingham scoffed.
"Milord — "
"You need to get off the fence you're perched upon and choose a side, Finn."
"What? What's this about a fence?" Finn asked. He was so overwhelmed by the turn of events he couldn't think straight.
"What the fuck, lad? Are you bleeding drunk? Taking some kind of cursed poison? Or, are you just too damn obtuse to recognize a fucking metaphor?" the Sheriff huffed, impatiently.
"I'm not drunk, Milord."
"Huh! Not sure if I'm pleased to hear that, or not? Let's try that again. Which side do you choose? Our side, or the side of those fucking Jesus blokes?" the Sheriff asked, pointedly.
"I pledged to serve you, Milord. I'm on your side." Finn said.
"That's a start. I think. And, since you're on our side, then you won't mind telling us the truth. Let's hear the truth. Right now." Nottingham ordered him. He had his palm extended and waved his fingers toward him.
"I stated the truth. I knew Osworth was mixed up with them, but I didn't really know what it was about. I just kind of… tagged along. Most of the time we'd meet with a few of Faramond's mates at the tavern. I wasn't paying attention to them, because I used it as an excuse to see Edeva. If you could see her, Milord. She's quite — "
"Sweet — as a puppy dog. Ha, ha, ha!" Mordrid chortled.
"She is comely, I'll grant him that." Ancel smirked.
"Smart, too. And, she speaks her mind." Richard added.
"True." Ancel nodded. Then, he looked to Finn. "And, if you somehow manage to weasel your way out of this total mess you're in, I suggest you move on. You'll never have a hope in hell with her. Slayer adores her and is fiercely protective of her."
"She seems to think the world of him, too… and, I'm not being funny about it." Luke added.
"And, they're only mates!" Richard chuckled.
"They might only be best mates, but Slayer speaks very fondly of her. And, he certainly never compared her to a damn dog!" Ancel scoffed.
"From the sounds of it, I think the "best mates" arrangement shall soon change." Mordrid smirked. He hooked the first two fingers of both of his hands in the air at the mention of the nature of their relationship.
"It better not!" Finn exclaimed.
"That will be up to Edeva… if you won't be detained in my dungeon." the Sheriff said, sternly.
"Yes, Milord." Finn sighed, softly.
Nottingham began to slowly circle Finn, as Gerad and Alex continued to stand guard on either side of him.
"So, you have nothing for me. No names. No information." the Sheriff said. He stopped directly in front of Finn, only a foot away. He stared directly into the young man's light blue eyes. "Nothing, Finn?"
"Milord, I — "
"If you have anything to add, now would be the time." he said, sternly.
"You might not believe it, lad, but he's giving you a pass. There's still hope for you — if you cooperate. You need to give us something to work with, Finn." Duke Farnsworth strongly advised.
"I've seen them talk to others, but I'm not clear on names. Hmm… there was a Sygrid and some guy named… it was a funny name. They were at Faramond's home last night. I think… they addressed the bald bloke as… 'Ingy'? Which makes no sense." Finn sighed. He shook his head and shrugged.
"Well, that tracks, Milord. Those are the two Cas and I met today at the market." Luke said.
"Makes sense. Ingy would easily be a shortened form of Ingram." Duke Farnsworth added.
"Anyone else?" the Sheriff asked his prisoner.
"Last week they met with Everard, Merek, and another bald bloke named Fulke." Finn said.
"Right. Well, the first two are currently housed in the dungeon. Fulke is no more. Richard kindly dealt with that cretin for us after he tried to kill me and damn near killed Nigel in the process, so… there's that." Nottingham scoffed.
"What?" Finn asked, incredulously. He swallowed, dryly.
"As I said, this is a serious matter. And, you might want to take note that while you abandoned your post last night to allegedly flirt with a barmaid, Nigel was taking care of some outlaws for us, and damn near died while he took a giant leap out of bleeding nowhere to be my shield. He, and everyone you see before you conducted themselves as true Black Knights last night. You did not, Finn. To put it politely." Nottingham scowled at him.
"Yes, Milord. But… what the hell is Osworth involved in?" Finn asked.
"One should always choose their mates wisely, Finn." Mordrid said, his eyebrow raised, knowingly.
"But, he was supposed to be a Black Knight!" Finn exclaimed quietly, aghast at what he was hearing.
"So was Hector, Finn. Look where bending the rules got him?" the Sheriff reminded him. His eyebrow shot north, knowingly.
"And Cyrus, too." Mordrid smirked, folding his arms.
"Who?" Finn asked.
"I left Cyrus out of it since that happened a year before Finn was employed." the Sheriff nodded. He looked back to Finn. "So, now you know there can still be consequences for your actions. Being a Black Knight doesn't grant you immunity when you severely fuck up… Finn."
"Yes, Milord. Understood."
"Do you? I'm not sure you do understand as yet. So, I'm going to have Gerad and Alex get you all settled in now… downstairs in the dungeon." he smirked, deviously.
"What?"
"You think more on anything you need to tell me. You'll have one night to mull it over in your little brain. There shall be no contact with your mates, incidentally."
"Very well, Milord." Finn sighed.
"You shall be questioned again on the morrow. Except, you won't have four of your peers present as you do now. Their input will influence what happens next, as well as your candor. Your mates will not have that luxury because they are confirmed to be members of a known rebell force who are stocked up to their eyeballs with weapons. There's other disturbing facts about this matter that I shall withhold until I know you're being truthful.
"You better just be naive as fuck… as I suspect. We can work with that. Nichol, Richard, and Nigel — once he's recovered, can train that bollocks out of you in no time. That — I can work with. Anything more than that, like proven collusion with the parade of fools will not turn out well for you. Up until now you were a Black Knight, so you should know the rule about doubt. Let me refresh your memory: we eliminate all doubt." a beat. "One night… Finn. That's all you have to think on your answers for our next meeting — in your isolated cell." the Sheriff said with a knowing quirk of his brow.
"Understood, Milord." Finn nodded. "I was being truthful." he added.
"Possibly, but you're holding something back. Think more on that."
"Yes, Milord." Finn nodded.
"Your future depends on your honesty. I need to know I can depend on you to act as the four Black Knights you see before you did last night. There's a storm — metaphorically speaking — on the way, and I need my men prepared. If you choose wisely, you might earn your position back, but be prepared to train your ass off if you do." the Sheriff said, sternly.
"Yes, Milord." Finn nodded.
Gerad and Alex nodded to the Sheriff, then proceeded to lead Finn out of the meeting chamber.
"Well. That was intense." Nichol sighed after the door was closed.
Nottingham walked back to the table and rejoined the men, resuming his position on his chair.
"Those of you who knew Finn before now, I want your opinions first. Was he lying?" he asked them.
"I don't think so, Milord." Richard said.
"I agree with you that he's hiding something, Milord; but the names he gave already check out, and he also referred to a serving lady at the tavern whom some of our men are acquainted with." Mordrid added.
"I think he was honest with what he divulged, but agree he's withholding information. I also think he was nervous, and it appears his role here is more important to him than it was to Osworth, my Lord." the Captain opined.
"Very well. Anyone else have anything to add?" the Sheriff asked, addressing all of them.
"I concur with those observations, Milord." Ancel said.
"He didn't avert eye contact when answering the questions." Luke pointed out.
"We might be able to work with him." Duke Farnsworth added.
"That would be useful. I'm cautiously hopeful he'll use his time wisely while detained overnight. We can't really afford to lose two of our men right now." the Sheriff said.
"Indeed." Guy agreed.
"Very well. Your opinions are noted. Now, we will move on to the next topics on our agenda."
Richard stood from his chair and was preparing to take leave.
"And, where are you going Richard?" the Sheriff asked.
"Thought that was my cue to leave, Milord? You do have a meeting to get to with your Advisors and your top men." Richard explained.
"Be seated, Richard. You might not be an official top Investigator, but you're still an Investigator, and one of the best of my men. Join us. I'm sure what Robert has to say will be of interest, and I can personally guarantee that what I have to add after that will definitely be of interest." Nottingham said with a knowing quirk of his brow.
Everyone gathered looked to him curiously, wondering what he was referring to?
"Very well, Milord." Richard nodded. He seated himself in his chair.
"Alright, Robert. We're ready. Now, what is it you wished to see us about?" the Sheriff asked.
"Right. About that. We may need a little more time. Perhaps you could begin by discussing the topic you have in mind?" Robert suggested.
"What? You asked to meet with us. Why are you not ready?" he frowned, shaking his head.
"I'm waiting on — "
"Waiting on what, Robert? Yule? Candlemas? Just how hard did you hit that head of yours during that wee fall you took?" the Sheriff sighed.
"I'm waiting on — "
"Satan's teeth, Robert! If you weren't prepared, why did you ask to — "
Just then, there was a sharp knock on the door. The Sheriff called out for the sentry to enter. The door opened and the sentry announced that three men were waiting outside the door, saying they were expected inside the meeting chamber.
"I'm already engaged in a meeting! Whoever is out there can wait." the Sheriff huffed, impatiently.
"Milord, the men he's talking about are meant to be here. I asked them to come." Robert said.
The Sheriff looked to Robert, narrowing his eyes, suspiciously. He sighed, then looked to the sentry. "Alright. Show them in. This shall be interesting, I'm sure." he scoffed.
The sentry nodded, then stepped out for a moment. Next, he held the door as Stephanus, Eustace, and Borin entered the room. Each were holding a large object covered in a sheet of white cotton cloth. Eustace took the object from Stephanus so that he could better navigate the path toward the table using his walking stick.
The Sheriff stood from his chair.
"Is there a spot on the table we can place these, Robert?" Stephanus asked, looking ahead trying to gauge where Robert was seated.
"Yes, Stephanus. It's directly ahead of you about ten paces forward. You'll be standing by Richard and Mordrid there, and our men will set them down on the table." Robert said. He arose from his chair and walked to Eustace, taking the extra object off his hands.
"What's this about? This certainly appears interesting." Nichol questioned.
"Indeed." the Captain nodded.
The men placed the large covered objects on the table, then took their places beside Stephanus, their hands clasped in front of them as Robert prepared to speak.
"Hmm. Are those what I think they are, Robert?" the Sheriff asked, nodding to the items on the table.
"I believe so, Milord." Robert nodded. Then, he began to remove the coverings from each of them.
Slowly, the objects were revealed. They were three gleaming new shields, identical to the first one he had presented to the Sheriff and Guy nearly a month prior. This time, the shields featured only one difference — the addition of the Nottingham crest. Everyone present had their eyes fixed upon them. The way the torch light reflected off the high polish of the metal, mesmerized each of them. Many had their jaws slightly agape, and some quiet gasps were heard.
"Perfect. We could use a few of those." Mordrid whispered to his mates.
"They're very pleasing to look at, but — " Richard began, but was cut off.
"But, will they work?" Ancel pointed out.
"Lads, I observed them in the armoury on Monday. I was in the work area for two hours as Robert and the two other smiths here educated me. I watched them all work down there. They were all synchronized, each committed to their tasks." a beat. "They will work." Luke said quietly, nodding to to the shields on the table.
"It's about time, Robert. We met here in this room on October twenty sixth. That's damn near a month ago. You told my Lieutenant and I it would take a month or more to make fifty of them. You only needed to produce twenty. Are you telling me you just now have the agreed upon number of them ready?" the Sheriff asked, pointedly.
"No." Robert said, simply.
"What? It's been twenty four days, Robert! The order should be comp — "
"It is complete, Milord. We made thirty of them. Since things have… kind of gone to hell in a hand basket around here of late, and because you specified then that you prefer even numbers — " Robert began to explain, but was interrupted.
"We thought it best to step up production of them, Milord Sheriff." Stephanus added with a nod, looking in the direction of the Sheriff's voice.
"We have quite an abundance of Spanish steel, Milord. The shields were forged using that. We have plenty more of it if you would like us to produce more of these." Eustace explained.
"There's still several crates filled with the steel Diego brought to us exactly a fortnight ago, Milord. They're… taking up space in the back of the armoury." Borin said.
"And, he shall be bringing us more on January seventh, Milord." Robert added with a knowing quirk of his brow.
"Good." the Sheriff said. He looked to Luke. "Don't he getting any ideas about Diego's next scheduled visit, lad."
"Yes, Milord." Luke sighed.
Richard narrowed his blue eyes curiously, wondering what the Sheriff and Luke were referencing?
"And, they're all exact?" the Sheriff asked. He walked the length of the table to more closely inspect them.
"Yes, Milord. Only one change was made to them. A decorative change." Stephanus nodded.
"And, all have been tested, Milord. They are highly durable, yet easy to manage." Robert added.
"Indeed, Milord. Perhaps your men would like to take a closer look?" Eustace suggested.
"They're well crafted, Milord. I think they will be quite useful." Borin said.
"Very good." he nodded.
Duke Farnsworth nodded and began to quietly push his chair back from the table.
"Well, I don't know about you men… " Nichol began. He grabbed his walking stick and tapped it on the floor a couple of times, then arose from his chair. "But, I'd like to closely inspect them." Nichol said, addressing the four Black Knights present.
The Captain stood from his place at the table, and joined Nichol.
The Sheriff looked to his left, to speak to his men.
"He's right. Come and take a closer look at these, men." the Sheriff said, nodding down to the shields. "I want you to handle them, too. Same as if you were testing out a sword for the first time."
The top men arose from their seats and proceeded toward the area where the shields were placed, while Richard stayed seated.
"That includes you, Richard." he said, firmly.
"Really? But… I wasn't meant to be here in the first pla — "
"But, I asked you to be here, and here we are. I need your opinion, too. I want the input of the best men, and that includes Nigel. He will be shown one, too. Go and see what you think of them." the Sheriff directed him.
"Very well, Milord." Richard nodded.
"You say you tested these, Robert?" Mordrid asked, curiously. He nodded to the shield he held in his left hand.
"Yes. All of them were tested. A few blades were broken in the process." Robert said.
"Great. And, you didn't think to mention some steel was wasted?" the Sheriff huffed.
"It didn't go to waste, Milord." Stephanus said.
"We melted them down and made new blades with them." Eustace explained.
"And, they will still be durable, even though they had been melted before being… re-formed?" the Sheriff asked, suspiciously.
"Yes, Milord. We wouldn't present low quality weapons to you." Robert said.
"It's just so… hard to believe they're strong enough, because… " Mordrid began.
"Because they're not as heavy as they look." Richard said, looking to the shield he held in his left hand.
"Yes, it's quite a bit different than I thought. Light weight." Luke added. He looked to the shield he held in his right hand, still fascinated by the gleam of the metal, and the well executed Nottingham crest.
"How come you're holding that with your right hand, Luke?" Ancel asked, nodding to the shield he was holding.
"What do you mean? Why wouldn't I?" Luke shrugged.
"It's best to hold it in your weaker hand, Luke. Your right hand needs to be free to hold your sword — because you sure won't be able to use your longbow if you're needing one of these babies." Mordrid explained, nodding to the shield he held, as well as Luke's.
"They're right. You should try holding it in your left hand. It's your left hand that will be using it." Richard added.
"Oh. I guess I just didn't think of it." Luke said.
"How could you not think of it, Luke?" the Sheriff asked.
"I use my right hand the most, but I can use my left hand just as well as my right. Often I use my left hand without thinking about it." Luke shrugged.
"Seriously, lad? That's a good skill to possess." the Sheriff said.
"It is useful. Definitely." Luke nodded. "Don't know anyone else who has that ability."
"I only know one. You know him, too, Luke." Richard hinted.
"Oh? Whom would that be?" Luke asked, curiously.
"Nigel has the same ability. He's as skilled with his left hand as he is with his right." Richard said.
"Interesting." Luke nodded.
"Indeed." the Sheriff agreed.
"Can he write with his left hand? I'm assuming the way you worded that, that he's generally right handed?" Luke asked.
"Yes, right handed. I'm not sure about that part of it. I've only witnessed him writing with his right hand. You'd have to ask him about that. Things like weapons, dining utensils, fastening buttons, even fussing on his hair… he can easily use both hands." Richard explained.
"Fascinating. Now that you mention it, I do remember witnessing that when we were in the north, Richard. I didn't really think of it then, however. I'm guessing it was because I was so inured to seeing him use both hands that I didn't actually notice… if that makes sense?" Duke Farnsworth mused, narrowing his blue eyes.
"It makes sense to me, Duke. He's been with us for many years, and I never noticed this either. But, now I can think of times I've seen him use both hands." the Sheriff agreed. Then, he looked to Luke. "What about you, Luke? Can you write using your left hand?" he asked, curiously.
"Yes, Milord. It doesn't look as good as anything written by my right hand, but it is legible, and it's fairly close to my usual handwriting." Luke nodded.
"Strange. I've never noticed this." Mordrid shrugged.
"Luke uses his left hand to eat with. I noticed that on Monday night. It was after we got back from the tavern. Milord had trays sent to us. And, now that I think more on it, Luke was holding his mug of fake mead with his left hand, at the tavern last night. So was Nigel, but he always does that." Richard said.
"Still, Luke, if you're planning to hold your sword with your right hand during battle, you should test how that shield feels in your left hand." Ancel advised.
Richard and Mordrid nodded in agreement.
"I would concur." Nichol said.
"Of course." Luke nodded. He switched the shield to his left hand.
"It feels even lighter held in my weaker hand. Strange?" Luke remarked.
"You sure these are durable, Robert?" the Sheriff asked.
"Yes. We put them through vigorous testing." Robert nodded.
"Eustace also swung at them with his war hammer, Milord. They withstood even that." Borin added.
"So, you were in the work area to witness that. Away from your post. Is that what you're saying, Borin?" the Sheriff asked, suspiciously.
"No, Milord. It was hard to miss, though. I could see well enough from my position at the door, but it was the loud banging that first alerted me." Borin explained.
"He's right, Milord Sheriff." Stephanus said.
"I see." he nodded. "Well, since our men are skeptical of the strength of these shields, I suggest we try our own testing right here and now, if… you're in agreement, Robert?" the Sheriff asked, as he swung his head toward him.
"I assumed you would. Of course, Milord." Robert said, gesturing to the shields.
"Good. Who wants to be the brave one and hold the shield while some of the rest of us have a go at it?" the Sheriff asked around the table.
"I'll do it, mate." Nichol volunteered. He grabbed his walking stick and prepared to stand.
"No, Nic. I need you to train Albert, Borin, Joseph, Aldred, and possibly that short lad we just sent to the dungeon. And, even if that wasn't on your agenda, it's still a no."
"Right." Nichol said.
"I'll do it, Milord." Luke volunteered.
"I need you tomorrow, lad. We can't risk harm to you, in particular, when you're meant to meet with those pair of Jesus bloke — "
"For the love of Mary!" Robert huffed. " I shall do it, Milord." he said, adamantly. He moved in closer to Luke and held out his palm to him. "Pass it here, Luke." he directed him.
"You sure, Robert? We shall do our best to avoid injury but if those damn things fail — "
"I stand by our work, Milord." Robert nodded, then he took the shield from Luke. "Hit me with it." he grinned at the Sheriff.
"Right. You asked for it." Nottingham smirked as he unsheathed his sword from his scabbard.
He aimed the blade outward toward Robert and paused a moment. He took a breath, then jabbed the blade to the shield. It did not pierce the metal.
"Told you." Robert scoffed.
"Good. However, let's have two more give it a go." he said, looking to each of the men. "Let's have Gisborne and Mordrid try it. Come." he instructed them.
Guy arose from his chair and walked to join Mordrid who was already in position beside the Sheriff.
They positioned themselves in front of Robert, each taking a turn at repeating the same motion with their swords. Neither of them were able to penetrate the steel.
"That makes me feel better." Ancel said.
"Agreed." Richard nodded.
"Indeed. Very good." the Sheriff said. He moved in closer to Robert and squinted his eyes, studying the shield. "Well done. I do see a small scratch. Otherwise, they seem strong enough."
"We can easily fix that scratch." Robert said.
"Good. And, the rest are in the armoury?"
"Yes. They're ready for you when you need them." Robert nodded.
"Perfect. Leave one here with me. I want to show this to some of the others. The other two can go back to the armoury for now until we're ready." the Sheriff said.
Robert covered two of the shields using the white cotton they had been wrapped in and passed them to Eustace and Borin. They nodded in deference to the Sheriff, then Eustace, Stephanus, and Borin took their leave of them.
The Sheriff and his men took their places at the table, and the meeting resumed.
"What is it you wish to discuss with us?" Guy asked.
"A couple of things. Slayer came by today to tell me he had spoken to two of the men he had in mind for City Watch. He's bringing two men to meet with us on the morrow at midday about the City Watch positions." Nottingham announced.
"That's good to hear. Who are these men?" Nichol asked.
"They are Rykorus Wells, and Jasper Parry. Those are the two he spoke with who are eager to meet with us. There's another one who covers for him on his off days at the tavern named Syrtrick Benwicke whom he was planning to speak to sometime today, so he might be coming, too."
"Good news, indeed, my Lord." Duke Farnsworth nodded.
"Indeed. We need all the help we can get right about now." Guy sighed, folding his arms.
"That is correct, Gis. You don't know the half of it. Not yet." the Sheriff said with a knowing glance.
Gisborne narrowed his steel blue eyes upon him, suspiciously.
"And, hopefully Gregor had a moment to speak to his brother. He mentioned that at the Town Council meeting." Ancel added.
"Indeed. Haven't heard from Gregor as yet, but I'm hopeful. At least Slayer followed through for us. Anyway, that is the good news." the Sheriff sighed.
"Oh. So, I guess you're going to spill the bad news now?" Nichol asked.
"Yes. While I was finishing the meeting with Slayer, the Prince arrived." he said.
"Oh? What news, my Lord?" Duke Farnsworth asked.
"The Prince has received a missive from Geoffrey Fitz Peter. He is the — " the Sheriff began to explain, but was cut off.
"Justiciar of England, I believe." Robert said.
"That is correct. There's trouble on the way from York County. Fitz Peter has notified all of the necessary officials. I'm expecting a missive from him to arrive either the morrow or Friday." Nottingham said.
"What variety of trouble would that be?" Guy asked, curiously.
"Just as bad as Locksley and his cursed parade of minions, from the sounds of it. A group of marauders making their way to London, wreaking havoc along the way." he huffed. "And, now you know all, Gis."
"God's Nightgown!" Guy exclaimed.
"So… this is the storm you referred to with Finn?" Ancel asked.
"Yes, but there's more than one storm, as you know." he remarked as his eyebrow shot north, knowingly.
"Fuck… " Mordrid muttered.
"You better hope that Finn lad turns out to be re-employable, George. Sounds like we're going to need him." Nichol sighed, folding his arms.
"We're going to need everyone prepared, Nic." the Sheriff said, firmly.
"Yes, but… try not to kill him." Nichol suggested, then scoffed.
"Don't lose your wits over… personal matters on me, Nic. If that… intellectually challenged lad we just questioned is found to be in on it, there needs to be consequences. I cannot just execute two for being traitors, and an absolute embarrassment to the lot of us, and smack the third one on his wrists — as if he's a child. Think, Nic!" the Sheriff huffed.
"Understood." Nichol nodded.
"What will you have us do, Milord?" Luke asked.
"You will keep your eyes and ears open to any sightings or reports about them." a beat. "Rather large fires will be a definite sign. Not to mention the rest of it." Nottingham sneered, addressing all of the men.
He stood from his chair and slowly walked to the window, gazing out of it for a moment. He was relieved to see no signs of fires anywhere on the horizon from his vantage point. He sighed, then turned to face them, leaning back against the window frame with his arms folded.
"We must keep a close eye when we're in Sherwood on the morrow — " Richard began, but was interrupted.
"You won't be going to the forest, Richard. You will be assisting Nichol with training Joseph, Aldred, Alistor, Borin, and possibly, that Finn bloke." he said, firmly.
"I see. Very well." Richard nodded.
"Good." he said, then addressed the rest of the men. "I will need one other to assist with that in Nigel's place. How about it, Luke?"
"Milord?" Luke asked. He was certain he would be relieving Joseph during the training session, as was previously assigned to him.
"That is your assignment. After that, you're free until we head to church tomorrow evening." the Sheriff said with a knowing quirk of his brow.
"Yes, Milord." Luke nodded.
The Sheriff then turned to Nichol.
"I'm going to need you and Robert tomorrow at midday when we meet with Rykorus and Jasper, and possibly the other one Slayer has in mind. The meeting is here in this chamber. Plan your training session accordingly." the Sheriff said.
"Good. I'd like to meet them, since I'll be training them." Nichol nodded, then looked to Richard and Luke. "We shall meet in the training area in the afternoon. It will be following the meeting with the City Watch candidates." he instructed them. He next turned his attention to Robert and Gisborne. "Robert, inform Borin of the time and place. Gizzie, you inform the three in the dungeon since you're in charge of it."
"It will be done, Nic." Guy nodded.
"Of course. I'll tell him." Robert agreed.
"Anything for me?" the Captain asked.
"You're getting Alex again, plus Drake and Adam. Emory and Beric will resume normal duties at the portcullis, so the other two won't be needed there. Go to the same place. And, pay attention to the Great North Way. Those marauders are coming from the north, and that road is the only route to London, as you well know, Duke." the Sheriff said.
"Of course, Milord." Duke Farnsworth nodded.
"We will meet here before you leave. I'm going to show the lads this shield, and inform them about the marauders."
"Very well." Duke Farnsworth agreed.
"Mordrid, you're taking the same group to head to the same place: Thorne's home in Nettlestone." the Sheriff instructed.
"Very well." Mordrid nodded.
"Your task is to be on the lookout for him. Don't bother with his wife, but if you see him, bring him to me." he said, firmly.
"Yes, Milord." Mordrid agreed.
"What about Castor? And, what about the personnel shortage in the dungeon during their training session with Nichol? I thought Luke was meant to cover Joseph? And, wasn't Alfred meant to cover door duty while crossbow training was in session?" Guy pointed out.
"Originally, I had Luke in mind to cover Joseph, but now I think it's best he covers Nigel. We need to continue with training, Gis. An absolute show of shite is headed this way!" he huffed. He unfolded his arms and placed them on either side of him, grasping at the window ledge. "Castor shall take over for Alistor, manning the doors. Nic will do crossbow training with Joseph, Aldred, Borin, and possibly Finn. After that, they will work on Alistor's training, as well as Finn's — if Finn passes his next round of interrogation, that is." a beat. "And, you will take over for Joseph." the Sheriff smirked.
"Really?" Guy sighed. "So, I assume that includes interrogation. Which ones shall I question?"
"No interrogation. We're letting those scheming cretins stew, and grow very weary. As you know, it cracks them. It makes them talk. The exception tomorrow will be Finn. But, we're taking care of that in the morning. It will be done long before you take over at midday, performing only Joseph's duties." he directed him.
"Very well." Guy nodded. Next, he turned to Nichol. "How long do you expect the training session to be?"
"No more than four hours. It may be less, since I have two men assigned to assist." Nichol said.
"Oh." Guy sighed. "If you get Joseph through it first, that would be grand."
"Satan's teeth, Gis!" the Sheriff admonished.
"I will… see what I can do." Nichol smirked. Then, he looked to the Sheriff. "What am I doing in the morning?"
"There's nothing for you until midday when me meet with the City Watch candidates. You'll be busy enough from that point on."
"I see." Nichol grinned.
"Yes. I'm sure. Just be back by midday at the latest." the Sheriff scoffed.
"Of course." Nichol agreed.
"Also, immediately following the interview with the candidates, we will have a brief subsidiary meeting with all members of City Watch. Safforus shall be summoned to meet us for that. They need to be informed about the York County criminals who are coming. Robert, Nic, and Gis — you will stay for that. It will be brief. Training can begin after that." the Sheriff said.
"Very well." Nichol said.
Robert and Guy both nodded in agreement.
"Shall I notify Safforus on our way to the forest in the morning, my Lord?" Duke Farnsworth asked.
"Indeed, Duke. Perfect." the Sheriff nodded.
The meeting came to a close, and everyone went on their way except for Robert. After the Sheriff saw the last man out, he closed the door and turned to Robert with a questioning look upon his face, walking slowly toward him.
"Alright, Robert. What really happened? What was your wife and Thomas discussing that was so unsettling to you that it made you faint? Was it about Nigel? Is he worsening?" the Sheriff demanded.
"No. It was nothing to do with Nigel. It was about… the state of my wife." Robert replied. He sighed and looked to the table.
"Is something amiss with Lady Isabelle?" he asked. He wondered if this had anything to do with her peculiar demeanour of late?
"She has… gained more than the usual amount of weight for this stage of her condition. It's not from overindulgence. If anything, she's lacking that way. She barely eats, George." Robert said, softly.
"Oh. That seems… concerning." the Sheriff said. He pulled out a chair across from Robert and seated himself.
"Naturally, my wife has questions. I didn't — until Thomas measured her. He looked concerned. That's when I believed her. So, I had questions, too. And, when they got into the possibilities regarding the cause for her unusual weight gain, it was… disturbing. I tried to get to a chair but I toppled it over on the way down." Robert sighed.
"Understood. Is everything alright… with the child?" he asked. He couldn't help but think of Mortianna speaking about seeing Robert's son with his son in the future.
"Thomas thinks so. He thinks Isabelle's dates are erroneous. That she is one month further into it than was previously thought. He said that would explain the weight gain, and it would be on course for that stage of it. My wife, however, is quite certain of her dates. If she's correct about that, there could be trouble."
"I see."
"Can you still manage to keep this from Rhiannon? Isabelle isn't ready to share the news." Robert explained.
"Yes. She's astute, however. If Lady Isabelle's weight increase is noticeable, you know she'll have questions." the Sheriff said with a knowing quirk of his brow.
"I know." Robert sighed.
"Your wife won't be able to hide this forever. Hell, if I figured it out, anyone can." the Sheriff scoffed.
"Indeed. Belle shall need to come to terms with that."
"I'm concerned about all of our wives right now. Two are pregnant, and one is a new mother. Then, I'm also considering ladies like Aeleanna, and Nichol's lady, Kaeliss. From the sounds of it, she shall be carrying his child any moment now." the Sheriff said, sharply exhaling. "I'm also concerned about Gilda. We have an absolute shower of shite coming for us! Betwixt the planned incursion by the Jesus blokes, and the York County specials coming this way, we might be needing to relocate the important women in this castle, and a few others for a time." the Sheriff said.
"Yes. I've been wondering about that since we found out the Brotherhood men had planned an incursion." Robert said.
"That will also include relocating Madam Oberon, Floria, Rebeccah, and possibly Mortianna. Also, Lady Margaret since she'll be caring for my son when she's through helping Nigel." a beat. "Curses! I hope he is fit soon, because we need him! He's the best damn warrior of the lot of them. Could use him for the training sessions, too."
"Once that fever breaks I'm sure he'll do everything he can to get stronger. He seems like the type of man who likes to push himself." Robert opined.
"Indeed. You're right about that." the Sheriff agreed.
A quarter of an hour later, Nottingham entered into his chambers. The torches and candles which kept the den lit, as well as the fire slow burning in the fireplace, created a magnificent ambient orange glow. The doors to the bedchamber were open, the room also lit, but much more dim. The effect was added depth, in a physical as well as a dramatic sense.
Lady Rhiannon was seated in a chair by the fire in the den. Her head was tilted back, as a large closed book was resting loosely on her lap. Her hair was wet, and she was wearing a dressing gown he'd never seen. It was a pleasing light periwinkle blue colour, and as he slowly walked toward her, he could already sense that it was made of very soft fabric before he gently put a hand on her shoulder, and his guess was confirmed.
"My lady." the Sheriff whispered.
Rhiannon jolted awake.
"Oh!" she exclaimed.
The book fell from her lap to the floor.
"Curses!" Rhiannon muttered, then quickly bent down to retrieve it. She did not want him to see what was kept inside that book about Erec and Enide.
The Sheriff regarded her, curiously.
She held the book firm on her lap, looked up at him and smiled.
"Bad dream?" he asked.
"No. Just on high alert."
"I take it he's asleep?" the Sheriff asked, nodding to the doorway leading into the bedchamber.
"Yes. He'll probably awaken in three or four hours for his nightly milk feeding. He's been doing better today." Rhiannon nodded.
"Good news, indeed, wife." he said. "I saw Nigel earlier. That was good of you to see to his lady." a beat. "She looked fine in your gown; though, I prefer it on you."
"Thank you." she smiled.
"She was here for a time. She must have seen our so — "
"She didn't. He wasn't here." Rhiannon said, casually.
"Right." Nottingham exhaled sharply and frowned. He seated himself in a chair beside her and leaned in close to her. "Lady Margaret was tending to Nigel. Lady Isabelle was with you and Lady Aeleanna. Whom was minding our son, Rhiannon?" he demanded.
"Meridwyn and — "
"You must be jesting! What? She is confined to her bed, is she not? How can she manage an infant with needs like… his?"
"It was fine. He was tired."
"Whom was the other person present with Lady Meridwyn, Rhiannon?" the Sheriff asked, pointedly.
"Uh… " Rhiannon stammered.
"Whom?" he repeated, more firmly this time.
"Don't be cross, George. And, keep your voice lowered." she said, nodding to the doorway of the bedchamber.
"What? Whom was assisting Meridwyn? I know it wasn't Gis!" he exclaimed in a whisper.
"It was… Hildith, George." Rhiannon sighed.
"What?" the Sheriff quietly demanded. "She knows? Before anyone of significance?"
"She knows because she's capable of two things: performing well, and keeping her mouth shut, George. Our boy was in fine form when I went back for him after Lady Aela left. Hildith did a fine job with him. I'm certain she tended to him the most." she explained.
"Hmm. Very well. I suppose it is good to have back up for times like these when Lady Margaret is occupied with another task." he relented with a sigh.
"That was my thought." Rhiannon nodded.
"So, you must have brought some gowns out here from the wardrobe in the bedchamber to show Nigel's lady, I take it?" he asked, curiously.
"No. All three of us went inside the bedchamber briefly."
"Then, she must have seen the empty cradle." Nottingham sighed.
"No. I don't think she did. Why would it matter if she had? Her long time paramour was chosen by you to guard our son?" Rhiannon pointed out.
"As with all of us, he wouldn't reveal details of an assignment, or any investigation no matter how long they've been together. He basically leads two separate lives. One with her, and one as a Black Knight." the Sheriff explained.
"That's sad."
"No. It's necessary. I'm sure he might give her vague bits of information to appease her, but he wouldn't disclose something like that to anyone." he said, firmly.
"I suppose that's good to know. Anyway, Lady Aela was far too distracted with her concern for Officer Nigel to notice details about furniture in a stranger's bedchamber. The only piece of furniture she looked at was my wardrobe, George." Rhiannon said, confidently.
"I see." he nodded, then moved away from her, not quite settled into his chair. "Shall I send for a tray?"
"It is done. It should be here soon." Rhiannon smiled.
"And, how long has he been napping?" he asked, nodding to the doorway of the bedchamber.
"Probably an hour."
"Good. He had those… wormwood and mint drops?"
"Yes. I'm sure it will be fine." Rhiannon said.
"Let us hope. You can barely stay awake these days, and you're fading away to a cursed shadow, my lady. Even with that fluffy new dressing gown you're wearing, I can still see it." he said, firmly.
"George?"
"I hope you sent for something substantial. And, I'm hoping — mostly for your sake, our son won't be… fussy this night."
"I don't know what we're receiving in the way of food. I left that decision to Jean Louis." Rhiannon explained.
"Then, we shall be surprised. If it's some fool thing like broth, Jean Louis will be instructed to rectify that. You need your strength" he said.
"Very well." she sighed.
A knocking on their door interrupted them.
"That's probably the evening meal coming now. Stay seated, my lady." he said.
He arose from his chair and went to the door.
He was surprised to see whom was on the other side of it.
"Is something amiss with — " the Sheriff began to question, but was cut off.
"No. He's doing better, Milord. He's alert, and the fever seems to be breaking. He's a bit disgruntled about the pain factor, but he's improving." Lady Margaret nodded.
"Best news I've heard all day. Good. Shouldn't you be there, however? Just in case?" he asked.
"Master Rainecourt dismissed me. He's staying in Nigel's den, and Lady Aeleanna is there inside the bedchamber. I'm not needed there until the morning. Therefore, I'm free to take the wee lad for the night, if that is your wish." Lady Margaret explained, quietly.
"Come in." he said
After the door was closed, Lady Rhiannon walked over to greet her.
"Oh, Lady Margaret. Good evening. Is Officer Nigel — "
"He's doing better, Milady. I'm free of my duties there until the morning. Master Rainecourt has it handled. I'm free to mind your son this night if you'd like." Lady Margaret explained.
"Thank you. That's kind of you to offer, but we're good." Rhiannon smiled.
"My lady? You could definitely use the extra rest." the Sheriff reminded her.
"Yes, but so could Lady Margaret. She hasn't had a decent rest in two nights, and is needed in the morning." Rhiannon said. She turned to the midwife. "I might take you up on that tomorrow night, if you're available?"
"Of course, Milady."
"He's resting peacefully now and I don't wish to disturb him." Rhiannon added.
"That's fine, Milady. I understand. If you need any assistance, send for me."
"Thank you. I will." Rhiannon nodded.
After the midwife left them, the Sheriff walked over his wife, who was stoking the fire in the fireplace.
"You should have taken her up on her offer, Rhiannon. You need food and rest." he said. Then he shook his head as he moved in closer. "My lady, what are you doing? Let me take care of that." he sighed as he grabbed the poker from her hand.
"I'm not incapable, George." Rhiannon huffed.
"I'm fully aware, wife. Just seat yourself. You're doing that… squirrely thing you do, and it makes me dizzy!"
"Fine. You deal with that. I need to check on our boy, then I must bring the basin — " Rhiannon stopped herself. She looked down and sighed. He seemed to be in a right mood, and now she wondered if it would be better to just take care of this in the bedchamber?
"What the hell do you need a basin for?" the Sheriff asked.
"For the… compresses." Rhiannon said.
"Oh, right. I momentarily forgot about that absolute bollocks. Must you do that now?"
"It's time, George. So, yes. I'll be right out."
The Sheriff nodded, then looked back to the fire. He added a log, and decided he would have a talk with her when she returned from the bedchamber.
As Nichol was approaching the lane to head into Lady Kaeliss' manor, there was a rider coming from the north. A fine white horse was guided into the lane. Nichol frowned and urged his horse forward.
Soon, he was guiding his horse toward her. She had just dismounted and was leading her horse by the reins toward the stables to the right of her home.
He dismounted from his horse and walked toward her.
She didn't hear him approaching because the winds were fierce, and the accumulation of soft snow on the ground was muffling footsteps.
"My lady." Nichol said, placing a hand on her shoulder.
She turned around to face him, then sighed.
"Kaeliss, where did you just come from? You shouldn't have been out. It's after dark and the roads are treacherous."
"I needed to check on my aunt, Nichol. I took some things to her. God knows my cousin isn't any use to her right now." Kaeliss said. "She's not far from here. I wasn't gone long."
"That's good to hear." he smiled.
"I wasn't sure I would see you tonight, Nichol." Kaeliss said.
"I wanted to make sure you were faring well over here, and keeping warm."
"Come inside, and you shall see. It's dreadful out here!" she exclaimed with a shiver.
"And, there's more snow falling. Good thing you are here now, my lady."
"That was kind of you to bring that wood to me. Thank you." Kaeliss smiled.
"You already thanked me, Kaeliss. Come. Let's take our horses to the stables. I don't want to leave mine out here in god awful weather like this." Nichol said.
"Of course." she nodded.
A short time later, they entered into her manor after securing their horses in the stables.
"I'm a bit surprised Helewise didn't greet us at the door." Nichol smirked.
"I'm not. Normally, she would. But she was in fine form when I left. The only reason she didn't raise a fuss about my leaving for a time was because she was a bit inebriated from the warmed mead I gave to her." Kaeliss smiled. She doffed her cape and hung it on a hook by the door.
"Well, aren't you a crafty one, my lady?" Nichol chuckled.
"Only when I need to be. I wasn't in the mood to deal with her usual nonsense."
"I see."
"I'm glad you came back. Even though you shouldn't have."
"Why shouldn't I have, Kaeliss?" Nichol asked.
"Because of the frightful weather." she replied.
"It was all the more reason for me to check in on you."
"You're very thoughtful." she smiled.
"Only where you're concerned, my lady. I won't stay too long." he said, as he took her hand and kissed it.
"You're here now. Stay with me. We won't be seeing Helewise until the morning. The mead will put her to sleep. It always does."
"Are you sure?" he asked.
"Completely sure. And, I want you to stay with me." Kaeliss looked up into his green eyes and smiled.
"I will keep you warm, my lady." Nichol said, softly. He pulled her toward him and softly kissed her lips.
"Nichol." Kaeliss whispered, then held onto him fast. She rested her head against his chest, smiling in complete contentment.
The Sheriff and Lady Rhiannon were seated in the den, finishing their meal. He took a sip of brandy from his goblet, looking into her eyes. He set the goblet down, pausing a moment before he began.
"My lady, are you feeling unwell?" he asked.
"Just a bit tired, but nothing I cannot handle." Rhiannon shrugged. "I'm fine, George. You mustn't be concerned."
"Rhiannon, have you paused a moment to look upon your reflection in the mirror? I mean… really look upon your reflection."
"Well… no. Only when I'm fixing my hair, or — "
"You're smaller than I've ever seen you. Not even when I thought you might be dying did you look like… this!" Nottingham exclaimed in a whisper. "My angel, you are fading to a shadow. I feel your bones when I embrace you!" he frowned and looked to his lap a moment, then looked back into her eyes. "Something isn't right."
"Honestly, I feel well enough, George. Just a little tired. I'm sure a lot of new mothers feel the same." Rhiannon shrugged.
"Funny. I've never noticed Harriet Busby fading away after each child she has brought forth. Are you… keeping your food down?" he asked.
"Yes. I just think it's related to poor appetite of late. I've been feeling rather… wound up. Ever since we lost Sela. And then, right after that, I nearly lost you. So much has happened in the last few weeks, my love. I'm still trying to sort through it all in my mind, I suppose." Rhiannon explained.
"You must take better care of yourself, my lady. I need you to be your usual strong self." he said. He stood from his chair and walked a few steps toward her, then crouched down before her.
"Of course. Strong for… what?" Rhiannon asked, curiously. She shook her head slowly, scanning his eyes.
"Strong for whatever comes. You're getting so thin I'm wondering if you've the strength to wield that dagger I gifted you, wife." he remarked with a knowing quirk of his brow.
"For heaven's sake! Of course, I do." she sighed.
"You need to acquire more rest. I will speak to Thomas about a recommendation to help you sleep. Something to take away those damn nightmares you've been having of our daughter." the Sheriff said, grasping both of her hands.
"Very well. I have no objections to that, as long as I can still respond to our son if he needs me." Rhiannon nodded.
He reached out and softly caressed her cheek.
"I couldn't be more pleased that we are finally wed, and that our family is complete; but… I need my lady to come back to me." the Sheriff whispered.
"I'm right here, my love." Rhiannon smiled. She leaned in and kissed his cheek.
"Of course you are, Rhiannon. I need you to go back to being strong, however." a beat. "Physically strong." the Sheriff said, firmly. He looked downcast for a moment.
His inability to maintain eye contact was her first clue that he was hiding something.
"Again, George: strong for what… exactly?" Rhiannon asked, directly. "What are you trying to tell me?"
"Rhiann — "
The Sheriff was interrupted by a knock on the door.
"Satan's teeth! What now?" he muttered. He stood and headed to the door.
His Scribe awaited him.
"Yes? What is it now, Scribe?" he asked, impatiently.
"Slayer from City Watch has returned, Milord. He awaits you in the Council Quarters." the Scribe announced.
"Splendid. He wouldn't be here without news to share. I'll be there directly." the Sheriff said.
The Scribe nodded and went on his way.
He closed the door and returned to his lady.
"Rhiannon, whatever it is you need to do to stay awake for a time, I need you to do it. You look like you're about to nod off. I must step away for a time."
"I see. I'm sure I can manage." Rhiannon said, then stifled a yawn.
"Listen, if you think you cannot stay alert to respond to our son while I'm out, promise me you'll summon either Lady Isabelle, or Hildith to come and assist. I don't know how long this meeting will take, and I don't want our son unattended." the Sheriff said, firmly.
"Of course, my love. I will not place him in danger. I promise you." she nodded.
"Good. I shall return as soon as is possible." he said as he leaned down and kissed her forehead.
Then, he took his leave of her.
A short time later he entered into the Council Quarters. Slayer was awaiting him, with a guard standing close by. The Sheriff dismissed the guard with a nod.
He looked to Slayer after the door was closed.
"Is that cretin in the dungeon now? I'm guessing you had success finding that Thorne bloke." he asked as he walked toward him.
"No luck locating him, but I do have news, Milord." Slayer said.
"And, what news is that, Slayer?"
"The Innkeeper guy, right? Erasmus? He was curious why it was me questioning him about any Thorne sightings and not one of your Black Knights. Once I explained I was on City Watch under your employ, he said my timing was perfect. He was just about to send a messenger here. I told him I could get to you faster, right."
"What is the message?"
"That funny looking ginger bloke that's at the top of your wanted list — the one some refer to as 'potato bloke' — has checked in… at the Inn." Slayer said with a knowing smirk.
"When?" he pressed.
"Not long before I arrived. I was planning to deal with the bloke myself and bring him to you, but Erasmus explained he was instructed to act normally, and alert you right away. So, here I am." Slayer explained.
"That is true. How is it you're even here? It's after dusk. Aren't you expected at the tav — "
"I discovered this right before my usual start time. I stopped by to quickly brief Charlie on my way here. My partner is covering for me."
"Very good." the Sheriff nodded.
"You want me to accompany you, Milord? To help you capture that funny looking bloke?" a beat. "I only saw him a couple of times, right? But, can't forget that bloke… regrettably." Slayer frowned.
"If you think you can spare the time, that would be good. We believe he may be injured, but we might need backup if he somehow managed to arrive to the Inn from his position in the forest — on foot. To our knowledge, he didn't have access to a horse, though he's a known horse thief." the Sheriff said.
"Of course, Milord."
"Wait right here. I must send for Luke, and inform my Lieutenant." the Sheriff directed.
Then, he headed for the door. He was pleased to see the Scribe was in close proximity, passing in front of the meeting chamber. He appeared to be heading in the direction of his office.
"Scribe!" he called out.
The Scribe turned his head toward him and stopped in his tracks. He swiftly responded to the summons and walked toward him.
"Yes, Milord?"
"I've a list of places to send you, so pay attention." the Sheriff said, firmly.
"Yes, Milord." the Scribe nodded.
"First, you shall inform Luke that he is accompanying me to Nottingham Inn on official business. He must report to the Council Quarters directly. Next, inform Gisborne he is in charge here in my stead. Tell him I'm going to the Inn to make an arrest. He will know. After that, you shall head to the Wordsworths' chambers and ask Lady Isabelle to report to my chambers to assist my wife. Again, she will know. If Lady Isabelle is unable to do so, you must tell Hildith to do it. The order comes from me. You will see these people in the priority I specified and you will do it now. Understood?" the Sheriff instructed him.
"Yes, Milord. Luke first, then Sir Guy, Lady Isabelle, and if she's unavailable I shall send Hildith to your chambers." the Scribe said.
"Good. Make it so." he said, firmly.
The Scribe nodded and headed to the staircase to carry out his tasks.
After the door closed, the Sheriff walked over to the table and poured himself a measure of water into a silver goblet.
"Water, Slayer?" he asked.
"I'm good. Cheers, Milord." a beat. "I saw Rick, right, when I checked in with Charlie." Slayer began.
The Sheriff whirled around to face him.
"Ah. Yes. Syrtrick Benwicke, right?" a beat. "And?" he asked, then took a sip from his goblet.
"He's quite interested, Milord. He will meet you with the others on the morrow."
"Very good." the Sheriff nodded. "Well done. Hopefully, their interview will work out. We need them, I'm chagrined to admit."
"Aye. But, we're chipping away nicely at those Cult blokes, right, Milord? We'll have that entire group of brainwashed blokes dealt with in no time." Slayer pointed out.
"We have more to think about than just them, Slayer. After I interview the three candidates, you and whoever I hire will stay. I'll be summoning Safforus to join us, too. We'll be having a City Watch meeting. You need to be brought up to speed on the latest developments. The City Watch will likely be the first of my men to spot the new batch of criminals." the Sheriff instructed. He took another sip of water, then placed his goblet on the table.
"Of course, Milord." Slayer nodded.
Soon after this discussion, and Slayer assuring the Sheriff that Jasper, Rykorus, and 'Rick' are well suited for the roles of City Watch, Luke was shown into the Council Quarters.
"I'm ready when you are, Milord. Who's hiding out at Nottingham Inn? Thorne? Or, the short ruddy ginger bloke? Or… both?" Luke asked, curiously. Then, he quickly greeted Slayer.
"It's the stumpy potato bloke, Luke. Slayer is accompanying us."
"I see. Won't two of us be enough, Milord?" Luke asked.
"Yes, ordinarily. Slayer was the one who made this discovery while searching for Thorne, however. We may need an extra pair of hands. If that bloke was able to make it out of the damn cave in the cursed forest and all the way to the Inn - on foot, then being prepared is our best bet. We always prepare for anything. You know this." the Sheriff reminded him.
"Yes, Milord." Luke nodded. He turned to Slayer. "But… aren't you needed at the tavern?"
"Lad, for the love of — " the Sheriff started to admonish, but was cut off.
"It's fine, Luke. I've got it all worked out with Charlie, right. My partner is covering me because he needs more experience with that, and Rick is covering my partner, Blaise, inside the tavern. You may be meeting Rick soon. He has a meeting, right, on the morrow with Milord Sheriff." Slayer smiled.
"Indeed. We shall be interviewing him regarding City Watch." the Sheriff said.
"Good to hear that's hopefully expanding." Luke nodded.
"Indeed. Come, men. Let's make tracks. Onwards to the stables." he directed them.
Slayer went ahead of them, and Luke took a moment to speak to his Lord as they walked through the main floor corridor toward the front doors.
"Milord, forgive me, but… do we really need Slayer? Or, couldn't we just handle this and spare you the trouble?" Luke asked, quietly.
"I want to watch him work, Luke. I know he's good, but I've only watched him once. I need to see it if I want to make a note about bringing him on board with the Black Knights in future. I plan to personally critique each member of City Watch for the same reason." a beat. "There is a reason behind each decision I make. You should know this by now, lad." he said firmly, yet in soft tones.
"I see. Understood, Milord." Luke nodded.
"Start thinking like a leader, Luke. There's a few of my men I can easily imagine as Captain in the future. You're one of those men. Whatever you can learn from the top ranking men here, soak it in." he advised.
"Very well. Forgive me for questioning you. I was only offering an alternate solution." Luke explained.
"I know. You don't need to be forgiven, Luke. I prefer alacritous participation from you men, rather than a 'Yes, Sir; No, Sir; Whatever you say, Sir' response." the Sheriff said with a knowing quirk of his brow.
"Of course, Milord. Should I hold back and let Slayer take the lead when we get to the door of the short ruddy ginger bloke's room?"
"Yes, lad. As I said, I want to watch him work. I need to see how he handles it. You and I are there to back him up." the Sheriff instructed.
"Very well." Luke agreed.
In the private chambers, Lady Rhiannon had just let Isabelle into the den. She rubbed her eyes, shaking her head, then looked to her sister in law.
"Is everything quite alright, Isabelle? You still look rather pale." Rhiannon asked while eyeing her, curiously.
"It's grand, dearest. I'm here for you." Isabelle smiled.
Rhiannon scoffed.
"George sent you." she sighed.
"Yes, but it was the Scribe, Percival, who requested I come. I can see why." Isabelle frowned while giving her a quick appraising glance. "You look tired."
"I told him I'd summon you if I became sleepy!" Rhiannon huffed.
"I'm sure Milord could see your fatigue, too. He only wanted to help. It matters not, dearest. I'm here now. Use me. You rest." Isabelle attempted to assuage her.
"It's you who appears to need their bed. You best stand by the fireplace, Isabelle. You're dressed like you were planning to step outside! Why are you still wearing that shawl? Does Robert not keep the fires stoked in your rooms?" Rhiannon sighed.
"I've just been feeling… a bit chill. There's no shortage of warm fires in our rooms. My husband looks after me very well."
"I see."
"Is he awake?" Isabelle asked, nodding to the bedchamber.
"No. He's been sleeping close to two hours." Rhiannon said.
"Why don't you rest, and permit me to take over? If he awakens, I'll take care of it." Isabelle suggested.
"This is only until George returns." Rhiannon said, firmly.
"Of course. You mustn't fret."
"Very well. Should he awaken, get him ready for me. Check his wee pants and change them out if required. Would you be able for that, Isabelle? It can be rather… unpleasant." Rhiannon commented with a grimace upon her face.
"Of course." Isabelle nodded.
"Good. After that, give him two drops of the wormwood and mint elixir. Once he gets his drops, flip the hourglass over. I'll need to feed him half way through. Alert me once you've flipped the hourglass. The elixir and the hourglass are on a table near his cradle." Rhiannon directed her.
"Very well. You sit and put your feet up."
"Thank you, Isabelle." Rhiannon smiled.
"The new dressing gown looks lovely on you, Rhiannon." Isabelle remarked.
"Yes. I quite like the colour. The softness, and the addition of the hood are quite appreciated, too. Did Madam Oberon fix your dressing gown?"
"Yes. It fits perfectly now." Isabelle nodded.
"Very good. I'm sure the colour is lovely on you." Rhiannon smiled.
"Yes. It's quite sublime, dearest. Robert likes it, too." Isabelle smiled.
"I'm sure." Rhiannon said. She yawned and walked over to the sofa.
"Wouldn't you like to rest in your bed, Sister?" Isabelle asked.
"No. I'll wait for that when my husband returns. I would need light to read with. I'm keeping it dim in there to encourage sleep for my boy. This will be fine." Rhiannon nodded.
She sat upon the couch and reclined on it, placing a blanket over her legs. Then she reached beside her where her book was resting on a table and grabbed it, placing it on her lap.
Isabelle walked into the bedchamber to look in on her nephew. She hoped her sister in law was faring well. She was looking far too thin of late.
At Lady Kaeliss' manor, she and her new beau were seated on the sofa in the sitting room, a roaring fire blazing before them. They were sipping warmed mead and nibbling on some tasty foods which Kaeliss brought out for them.
"This is perfect, Kaeliss. It's still snowing like mad outside, yet… here we are. Perfectly warm, and completely at ease." Nichol smiled, then took a bite of roasted chicken. "Mmm. This chicken is quite nice, too."
"I'm so glad you're here." Kaeliss smiled, then raised her goblet to her lips. She took a sip of the warmed mead, savouring the flavour as it warmed her.
"Yes, my lady. You've mentioned that. I'm glad to be here, too."
"Yes. I did, didn't I? How silly of me."
"Don't play shy now, beautiful. You don't need to be afraid of me." Nichol said.
"I do not fear you, Nichol. Perhaps… we're moving too fast, however." Kaeliss sighed.
"It's a little late for that, don't you think? What are you trying to tell me? Thought you were glad I'm here?"
"I am, Nichol. I just wonder if… maybe I should have held off on seducing you. Or, wait for you to seduce me." Kaeliss said, then looked downcast.
"I'm glad you did, my lady. It was quite a refreshing change. I desired you."
"I wanted you, Nichol. But, now… you're all I think about. You're deep in my heart… already." she admitted.
"Kaeliss… " Nichol whispered.
"I need to learn the art of creating mystery, or… something. There I go again. Putting it all on the table. Consequences be damned." Kaeliss sighed.
"You're in my heart, too, my lady. Do not worry so." Nichol smiled.
"Really, Nichol?" she asked.
"Yes. Really. Don't overthink this, Kaeliss. I'm right where I want to be. Right here next to you." Nichol said, softly. He put his arm around her and kissed the top of her head.
"Nichol. I don't think I've ever been so happy." Kaeliss smiled, as she looked up into his eyes.
"Enjoy it, beautiful. I'm eager to spoil you." Nichol whispered as he held her close to him.
"You already are, but I'm not complaining. I could use a little spoiling from time to time. Especially since… " Kaeliss sighed, letting her words trail off.
"Especially since… what, my lady?" Nichol asked, pointedly.
"Uh… it is nothing." she parried.
Nichol readjusted his position, turning to face her.
"What is it, Kaeliss? What did you stop yourself from saying?" he asked.
"My, uh… my sister is… coming to Nottingham." Kaeliss sighed.
"I take it that is not good news, my dear." Nichol said with a questioning quirk of his brow.
"It's good and bad. I love her to bits, and have missed her terribly since I moved here with Father. But, I like my privacy, too." Kaeliss explained.
"Its only temporary, until she returns to her home." Nichol pointed out.
"Who said it was temporary?"
"My lady?"
"It's not for a visit, Nichol. I think she wants to move here. She is recently widowed. She mentioned in her letter she sees no reason to remain in London. I'm sure she'll buy a home here, but I don't know how this will work, having her so… close by." Kaeliss said. She reached for her mug and took a generous swill of the soothing warm mead.
"We shall make it work, my lady." Nichol smiled.
"We?"
"Would you prefer to keep me a secret from your sister?" Nichol asked, curiously.
"Well, no, Nichol. Not at all."
"Good. Then, we will make this work, Kaeliss. It will be fine. What is her name?"
"It's Ceradwyn."
"She shall need some company at a time like this. Perhaps we can help her make a few friends?" Nichol suggested.
"It's been a year since my brother in law died." a beat. "You know anyone who's tall, dark haired, preferably blue eyed? She definitely favours men with those features. She's a sucker for them. Maybe that would help?" Kaeliss asked, jokingly. She giggled, then sipped more of her mead.
"Hmm. I actually do know a man like that. She's probably not thinking much about things like that, anyway, my dear. Even so, she may be too… old for him." Nichol smirked, then took a sip of mead from his mug.
"She's a year older than me. Not old at all." Kaeliss nodded.
"I see. Well, let's get her settled in, my love. We'll find out how she feels about that, and then I can arrange an introduction if you like. He's probably going to be at the party on Friday night." Nichol suggested.
"You just called me ''my love". Again." Kaeliss smiled, warmly.
"I did." Nichol grinned, then kissed her hand.
"I like it." a beat. "What's this about a party, Nichol? Thought it was just going to be five or six couples present for dinner, including the Prince and his wife?"
"The guest list has expanded a bit. Some of the men will be present." Nichol explained.
"Oh. Is the man you referred to a Black Knight?"
"Yes. He is." Nichol nodded.
"Oh. She will like that." Kaeliss giggled.
"Perhaps you should slow your intake of that mead, my dear?" he suggested, nodding to the mug held in her hand.
"Perhaps. But, it has helped me to relax."
"I'm sure. Come. Rest against me." Nichol smiled. He pulled her to him, and repositioned his right arm around her shoulders. "Be at ease, Kaeliss. You're not alone anymore."
"Thank you, Nichol." Kaeliss whispered. She smiled merrily as she rested against him, while gazing into the fire.
Erasmus was quick to answer the sharp knocking on the door of his office when the Sheriff and his men arrived.
"Where is he, Erasmus?" the Sheriff demanded.
"Room four. It's the forth door from the left when you're approaching the Inn. The one with the Siren painted on the door, Milord." Erasmus said. He produced a key from his pocket. "Here's my original key to gain access."
"Stay here." the Sheriff instructed him as he took the key. Then, he nodded for his men to follow him.
He turned to his left and headed to the end of the long rectangular structure. Moments later they came upon a door with a Siren painted on it.
"Alright, Slayer. You lead." the Sheriff said.
"Excuse me, Milord? Forgive me, right. Did I hear that correctly? We've one of your top men here with us." Slayer asked, genuinely bewildered as he nodded to Luke.
"You're leading this mission. Start by knocking on the door. If there's no answer, then we gain entry." he said, holding the key up in front of him. "And then, you will begin." the Sheriff said, firmly.
"Very well." Slayer nodded. "Just… one question before I begin."
"What is it?" he asked.
"Is it agreeable with you if I announce myself as City Watch, Milord? He may respond more readily to that." Slayer asked.
"That's just fine, Slayer." the Sheriff nodded.
Slayer nodded, then turned and proceeded to bang loudly on the door.
"Oi! City Watch here. By order of the Sheriff of Nottingham, open the door!" Slayer commanded. He banged on the door again. "We're not going away. Open the door at once!" Slayer called out.
Luke looked to the Sheriff and smirked.
"I like that line. The part about us not going away. Must remember that." Luke remarked, quietly.
"Indeed, Luke." the Sheriff agreed. Then, he looked to Slayer. "Good. That's enough warning. Let's go."
The Sheriff used the key to unlock the door.
"Milord? What is the criminal's name?" Slayer asked.
"Hamon Hatchet." a beat. "Isn't that a beauty, Slayer?" he scoffed.
"It's unfortunate, alright. Quite apt, though, right?" Slayer chuckled.
The Sheriff opened the door and the three men stepped inside. Slayer immediately set to work and began delegating. He was glad to see torches were already lit inside of there.
"I'll proceed further to the bedchamber. Follow me." Slayer said.
The Sheriff and Luke nodded, then proceeded to follow him.
"This room is clear." Slayer said. Then, he walked to the bedchamber doors and opened them.
"Hamon Hatchet! Make your presence known. City Watch here!" Slayer called out.
He made his way into the bedchamber looking around the room. He proceeded to the bed and looked beneath it, as the Sheriff and Luke followed behind; all of them with their hands on the pommels of their swords. Next, Slayer looked inside the tall armoire that stood to the right of the bed against an outside wall.
"Damn it. It's clear so far, Milord. Let me have a look in here." Slayer said, nodding to the bath chamber door.
"Good. Proceed, Slayer." the Sheriff nodded.
Slayer opened the door and stepped inside. The room was quite small with no places to hide.
"It's clear, Milord." Slayer frowned.
"Curses! How did we lose that stumpy bastard?" the Sheriff huffed.
"I'm not sure we did, Milord, right?" Slayer hinted.
"He's not here, Slayer. Of course, we lost him!"
"No. I can smell him. Didn't you say he was injured? That injury is festering, Milord. I swear, right, I'm smelling it." Slayer remarked, confidently.
"Now that you mention it, I'm getting a whiff of it, too. If degradation had a scent, that would be it… and, I'm not being funny about it." Luke added.
"It smells like rot. He's in a right state, Milord. I'm certain of it, right? He's not far. He can't be."
"Lead us to him then, Slayer." the Sheriff said, firmly.
As they left the room, the Sheriff instructed Slayer and Luke to search around the property. They scattered to carry out the task, as he headed to the office to have a word with Erasmus.
When Erasmus opened the door, he was immediately hit with questions.
"Erasmus! What the hell? Is there any way he could have overheard you speaking with Slayer earlier?" Nottingham demanded. He folded his arms and frowned.
"Milord?"
"He's not there. Could he have discovered you were sending word to me?" he asked again, impatiently.
"I don't know how, Milord? He looks dreadful, quite frankly. The bloke could barely stand upright. There's a foul smell coming from him. Don't know if he soiled himself or what, but it's bad. If it wasn't for you alerting me of him possibly coming here, I would have denied access — so he wouldn't contaminate the place and pass on the flux he must be suffering with. He looked feverish, too." Erasmus sighed with a grimace upon his face.
"Damn it! Then, how the hell did he escape? If he's that unwell, who the fuck helped him, Erasmus?" the Sheriff demanded.
"I… can't think of anyone, Milord. I can't imagine why anyone would wish to get close to him right now, frankly." the Innkeeper frowned.
"Someone must have! Curses!" the Sheriff huffed.
"Trust me, Mil — "
"Ah, ha, ha! That's a good one, Erasmus — coming from the man who told me his whole damn family was sent to a leper colony — to avoid paying taxes!" Nottingham chortled, then he straightened his expression. "Who could have helped him?" he demanded.
"I don't know, Milord. I'm telling you, wherever he is, it isn't far. He's not even fit to mount a horse, so stealing one to make a fast escape can be assuredly crossed off your list of possibilities. He seems very ill, Milord."
"If I find out you're hiding something — " the Sheriff began to threaten with his voice raised, when he was interrupted.
"Milord Sheriff!" Luke called out from the darkness, behind him a few feet.
"This better be good news, Luke." Nottingham huffed as he whirled around to face him.
"We got him, Milord. Well… not technically, but — "
"The hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Slayer is keeping watch. He will make the arrest when we return. Milord, that ruddy ginger bloke is not going anywhere. He's in a right bad state, and I'm not being funny about it. I think the bloke… might be dying, Milord. Slayer is in position about fifteen yards away. The bloke is out on the property in back of the Inn." Luke explained.
"Very well. Let's go, lad." the Sheriff said. He turned back to Erasmus as he began to walk away, shaking his head with a sneer.
They arrived to the scene in minutes. Slayer was hidden amongst trees, looking directly east, shaking his head.
Nottingham stopped behind Slayer and tried to see what Slayer was looking at. All he could see were trees covered in snow, falling snow, and snow blanketing the ground.
"Well? Where is he?" the Sheriff demanded.
"Why are you looking that way, Slayer? He was located precisely in the opposite direction — west." Luke asked, suspiciously.
"He went running… east! Only moments ago. I was just about to start after him, Milord, right?" Slayer said.
"What? I thought he was deathly ill? Satan's teeth, Slayer! Alright, you lads go after him. Take your horses. Cursed stumpy bloke is a bleeding sorcerer on top of his other crimes!" the Sheriff commanded them.
Slayer and Luke nodded, then left running toward their horses.
The Sheriff went to see the Innkeeper briefly, to tell him he was keeping the key.
"Why do you need the key, Milord?" Erasmus asked, curiously.
"Until we conduct a proper search in there and clear it, that room is mine. I am going to lock it right now before I leave, and a team will be here shortly to conduct the search of room four." the Sheriff said sternly, with a knowing quirk of his brow.
"Yes, Milord." the Innkeeper nodded.
The Sheriff turned, then swiftly proceeded to the room, locking the door. Next, he headed to his horse. He couldn't begin to understand how the fat stumpy injured bloke was able to escape again while in sight of one of his men. But, by all reports, he knew the man couldn't have made it very far. All he needed to consider now was whether to end the bastard once and for all upon capture? Or, should he just draw this out and let the man suffer? Either way, he hoped to be making this decision soon. As he untethered his horse, he hoped that Slayer and Luke had him in custody by now.
Lady Gunilda was seated on a chair in her sitting room sipping warm mead from her mug. She just finished stoking the fire in the fireplace and was about to head into her kitchen to check on the stew she had simmering in there over a low flame, when she was startled by a loud banging on her door.
"Hello? Is anyone there? I require your assistance! Help!" a man called out.
Gunilda sat frozen in her chair a moment. She quietly set the mug on a table beside her.
"Hello? I need help immediately! Is… anyone there?" the man shouted, banging on the door again.
"Goddess help me." Gunilda muttered, softly. Then, she reluctantly headed to the door.
She opened the door and was stunned to see a short, rotund, sickly man with balding ginger hair standing before her. There was sweat beading on his face, and a foul odour emanating from him.
"Who are you?" Gunilda asked.
"I need… your help, Miss. I'm not… well." he said. He held onto the doorframe to better support himself.
"Yes. I can see that." Gunilda frowned. "You don't have anything that can be passed on to others, do you?"
"No. I'm wounded, Miss. I think it… might be festering." he whispered, weakly.
"Very well. Come in. I'll get you fed, then I'll take a look at your wound." she relented. She held the door open and ushered him inside.
The man stumbled as he headed inside. Gunilda gestured toward a chair and he seated himself, then slumped into the chair. He rested an elbow on the arm of the chair, holding his head with the same hand.
Gunilda eyed him curiously, thinking there was something familiar about him.
"It's very cold outside. Let me get you some mead." she suggested.
"Thank you, Miss. That would… be grand. I've been on the… run for… days." he muttered, carelessly.
And, with that comment, she knew. This was the fugitive George had been after. Celestria had spoken of him, too. This was the man who tried to steal her horse, and was planning to murder Lady Rhiannon!
"You're safe now. Stay there. I'll be right back with the mead. I've some stew simmering, which I'll bring to you after that." Gunilda said, smoothly.
"I'm most grateful, Miss." he said, weakly.
She turned, then headed into the kitchen. She set to work immediately, ladling the mead into a mug. Then, she went to a cupboard and opened it, grabbing a vial from the back of the shelf. She uncapped it, then hastily added two drops to the mead. Gunilda put the vial back, then swirled the liquids together in the mug. She had a satisfied smirk upon her face as she deftly blended the liquids together. This will definitely keep him on ice until she could alert George. She needed to work quickly, and hoped the man would consume all of it fast.
Moments later, she returned to the sitting room and passed him the mug.
Hamon took a swill of the tasty mead and smiled, looking up at her.
"Thank you, Miss. this is really… quite good." he said. Then, he proceeded to take several more sips as he was quite thirsty.
"I'm glad you like it. It's my special blend. There's plenty more, if you like. I'll head back and put some stew in a bowl for you. Will you be… alright while I take care of that?" Gunilda asked.
"Yes, Miss. This is actually… helping the pain. Thank you, Miss." he yawned.
"It's Milady. And, you're welcome." Gunilda smiled.
"My… apologies, Milady." he said, then sipped more of the tainted mead.
Lady Gunilda went back to the kitchen to get the stew. She hoped he would fall asleep soon. She needed to alert Safforus. She ladled some stew into a bowl, placed it on a tray along with a spoon and a napkin, and brought the jug of mead with her.
When she returned to the sitting room she placed the tray on a table and took the stew, spoon and napkin to him.
"You must fortify yourself. You were just in time." Gunilda smiled. "The stew had just finished cooking when you arrived."
"I am… most grateful, Milady." he said, taking the bowl from her. He eagerly scooped some stew onto his spoon and ate it.
"This is very good, and… most appreciated." he said with a yawn, then took another bite of the delicious stew.
"Good. I'm glad to help. Would you like some more mead? I brought the jug with me."
"That would… be nice. Let me just finish taking… the last bit in… my mug." Hamon nodded. He raised the mug to his lips and swallowed the last of it.
She smiled, then poured the mead into his mug. He took a few more generous swallows before working on the stew.
"It is very… kind of you to… help, Milady." Hamon whispered, with a yawn.
"Of course. You poor thing. Don't think another thing of it. It's dreadful weather to be out in it in the state that you're in." Gunilda smiled.
For Goddess' sake, hurry and fall asleep. Curses! I'm going to be scrubbing and scouring this entire cottage all night to get rid of the vile odour!
Hamon started to nod off while trying to eat his stew.
"Sir? Maybe you should lay down?" Gunilda suggested.
"I'm very… sleepy. Forgive me."
"Come. Let's get you on the sofa. You must rest a bit, and then I'll look at your wound." she said as she walked toward him.
He slowly stood from the chair and let her guide him to the sofa. He flopped down on it, then slowly lifted his legs upon it.
"Gah! The… pain!" he exclaimed in a whisper. He had been cursing the Sheriff's lady ever since his wound started to fester. Once he was feeling better, he planned to end the bitch — once and for all!
"It will subside. Just take some deep breaths and be at ease. We will get you sorted." Gunilda soothed.
He smiled up at her, then closed his eyes.
He was sound asleep in moments.
Gunilda grabbed her cape and quickly donned it, then stepped outside to head to Safforus' quarters.
The wind was fierce and snow was still falling. She trudged through soft snow which was now nearly a foot deep, pulling the edges of her cape closed, and keeping her hood up.
Safforus' quarters was a small cabin located in back of the property not far from the stables. She finally made it to the door and sharply knocked on it.
He opened the door within moments and looked at her, curiously.
"Is everything quite alright, Milady?" Safforus asked.
"You know that fugitive Drake told you about? The one who stole our horse?" Gunilda began.
"Yes, Milady. What of him?"
"He's inside of my cottage, Saff. Stinking up the entire place with whatever has rendered him ill. I need you to alert the Sheriff." Gunilda said.
"Of course, Milady." Safforus nodded. He took his surcoat from a hook by the door and quickly donned it. "I don't like the idea of leaving you here with him, though." He stepped outside and closed the door.
"It will be fine. He's in no shape to give any trouble. Trust me. And, that was before I subdued him further with a couple of drops of belladonna added to his mead." Gunilda smirked with her eyebrow raised, knowingly.
"Good thinking, Milady. You best get back in case he stirs. I'll be on my way." Safforus said.
"Thank you, Saff." Gunilda smiled.
He proceeded quickly to the stables, as Gunilda headed back to her cottage.
A short time later, perhaps a mile south and not far from Nottingham Inn he saw three riders up ahead on the main path. They were stopped and appeared to be conferring with one another. One turned to look in his direction.
"Is that you, Saffy?" Slayer called out.
Safforus slowed his horse on approach of them and brought the horse to a halt.
"I bet I can guess why you three are outside on such a chill winter's night." Safforus hinted.
Snow was continuing to fall heavily over the Village. Safforus pulled the hood up on his surcoat as the wind began to pick up again.
"Did you see the stumpy fugitive we're after, Safforus?" Nottingham asked, pointedly.
"Not personally, but… I can take you to him, Milord. I was on my way to the castle to alert you, in fact." Safforus said.
"Where is he?" he demanded.
"He's inside Lady Hayward's cottage. He's in a bad way. She commented about a foul odour coming from him. She has subdued him with two drops of belladonna in a mug of mead, Milord." Safforus said with a knowing quirk of his brow.
"Perfect!" the Sheriff grinned. Then, he looked down. "Well done, Gilda." he whispered inaudibly, to himself.
"Well done, Saffy!" Slayer chuckled.
"Indeed." Luke agreed, grinning.
"Let's go, men — before the sodding tree stump bloke begins to stir." the Sheriff instructed them.
"What will you do with him, Milord?" Slayer asked as they began to make their way north on the path toward Gunilda's cottage. "From the sounds of it, right, the bloke is already suffering."
"I've a few ideas I'm mulling over. First, we must capture the cretin."
"Don't think we shall have a problem there, Milord Sheriff." Luke added with a smirk.
"Perhaps not." the Sheriff nodded, then he addressed Slayer. "You're still in charge, Slayer. Even though he may still be subdued when we arrive." Nottingham instructed.
"Very well, Milord." Slayer nodded.
They picked up the pace with their horses, gently kicking them into a gallop. The snow on the path sprayed up from the ground into a fine, glistening stream of pure white powder as the horses moved fast as lightning on the snow covered path.
A short time later, the Hayward cottage came into view. The men slowed their horses to a canter on approach. Slayer looked ahead, his jaw flew agape in awe.
"Holy hell! Look at the state of that oak tree! Wonder what in the devil happened with that, right?" Slayer exclaimed.
"I know. I still can't believe it myself." Safforus agreed.
"What the hell, Saffy?" Slayer asked, completely astonished.
"I'll tell you about that later, Slayer — even though the explanation for that still makes no sense to me." Safforus said with a sigh.
"Indeed." the Sheriff scoffed.
Safforus led the men to the front of the property and they quickly dismounted from their horses.
"Alright, men. Let's get this sodding fugitive out of there. Lady Gunilda needs us to secure her home. Safforus, you will enter inside with us. Make sure Lady Gunilda is safe. Slayer, you're in charge here. You and Luke will detain him and get him back to the castle." the Sheriff directed them.
The three men agreed, and together they made their way to the front door.
The Sheriff wasn't relieved yet. He was fervently hoping Gilda was still safe in there. He didn't trust that fugitive to do her no harm, regardless of whatever state he was in. He also hoped the fugitive was completely clueless that Gilda was a close friend of his.
