Lady Nottingham's Secret: Book Two

by Lady to the Sheriff

This is the continuation of Lady Nottingham's Secret. It turned into a bit of a novel but it's almost done. Chapter 1 here is actually 56. There's new twists & excitement coming. Will the Sheriff and his lovely lady survive the ultimate test?

36. Chapter 91

Saturday morning was rather dark and dreary as a misty rain was coming down. The weather was starting to match Lady Rhiannon's mood, as life had taken a dark turn in the last six days. Some of which she might have prevented, but some of it was completely beyond anyone's control.

The ladies were breaking their fast in the Gisborne's chambers. Lady Meridwyn was stifling a yawn as she sipped of her tea.

"How is it you're so awake, Rhiannon? I doubt you had much sleep, yet, you seem unfazed by that." Meridwyn commented.

"I suppose I had enough of it. The tea is helping." she said.

"For how much longer must you take that wheatgrass tea?"

"Mortianna thinks I should drink of it until Monday evening. Not that it matters anymore if I should bleed on Tuesday." Rhiannon sighed.

"But, that's your wedding day?"

"Oh, come on, Meridwyn. There's no use pretending everything shall be sorted by then."

"You mustn't lose hope, Rhiannon." Meridwyn said, trying to assuage her fears.

"I appreciate what you're trying to do to calm me, but, it's doubtful everything will just magically sort itself out in only four days time. I'm still a stranger to him, Meridwyn. We're going to have to come up with a different plan. Even your husband agrees."

"What sort of plan?"

"Right now, the priority is helping my betrothed to retain his position as Sheriff. That is the greater concern than our wedding taking place as scheduled." Rhiannon said as she sipped of the wheatgrass tea.

"What? You can't be serious?" Meridwyn asked, incredulously.

"Really, Meridwyn? To those who don't know what he's endured to bring him to this cursed state he is in, how do you think they would interpret his behaviour?" she asked, pointedly.

"Hmm. I suppose I… see what you mean." Meridwyn sighed.

"A Sheriff requires a sound mind. If he continues to bring up Robin Hood, or his former Captain, or any of the staff who have died since ninety four — as if they were alive, he's not going to appear very sound — will he?" she pointed out with a knowing quirk of her brow.

"Sweet Jesus, Rhi!" Meridwyn exclaimed as her eyes widened.

"If some kind of miracle doesn't occur by the end of this day, Sir Guy thinks we should cancel the wedding. So, I'm going to stop trying so hard to coax the George I know out of him, and enjoy my time here while it lasts." Rhiannon said, resolutely.

"I see. So, you're resigned to this. You're giving up on him." Meridwyn sighed, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Of course not, Meridwyn! I shall never give up on him. Not ever. But things happened, and plans changed. Keeping him cooped up isn't working, either. We just need to work out how to get him to stop mentioning Locksley, and his former Captain, primarily, and maybe… he'll have a lucky chance to keep his position — for now."

"When do you go back?" Meridwyn asked.

"I'm covering morning duty. Isabelle will take over when he wakes after that, sometime in the afternoon. And, that's when I'll be taking an actual break, continuing with a somewhat normal routine."

"Of course. An afternoon of reading?"

"Perhaps… after I check on my horse."

"But… what if he sees you?"

"I'll think of something suitable, I'm sure."

"I will accompany you." Meridwyn said, firmly.

"I appreciate that, Meridwyn, but I'm going to need time on my own to process this cursed mess. Besides, Sir Guy might take issue with that." Rhiannon countered.

"He might. But, who will watch out for you if you encounter a problem while you're alone in the stables?"

"I can look after myself, Meridwyn. You shouldn't be surprised by that. Anyway, do you honestly think George would harm me?"

"Might I remind you that you yourself were questioning that on Wednesday when you told me he threatened you with tongue snippers, or some such nonsense?" Meridwyn pointed out, folding her arms.

"That was when I was a total stranger. Now, depending on his mood, I'm "Anna", or "Emma", his dutiful servant." Rhiannon shrugged.

"For crying out loud, Rhiannon! This is insanity." Meridwyn remarked with an eye roll.

"You think?" Rhiannon scoffed.

"Well, I'm not going to lose hope. I'm going to cross my fingers that something changes soon." Meridwyn said, firmly.

"Don't hold your breath, Meridwyn. It's time we all started to accept reality." Rhiannon sighed.

"The reality is the man we've all come to know quite well, and accept and respect; and the one you love is stuck inside there and needs to be let out."

"Of course, Meridwyn. But, the fact remains we can't predict when that will happen. Or, even if it will at this point." Rhiannon sighed.

Just then, Guy came through the door.

"Oh, good. Duty calls. Something to take my mind off of the consequences of this ridiculous situation." Rhiannon remarked as she stood from her chair.

"He hasn't awakened yet, Milady. We have some time yet." Guy said. He walked over to Meridwyn, who stood to greet him, and softly kissed her cheek.

Rhiannon observed him, and wondered how long it would be before her betrothed would act that way toward her again? She sighed and resumed sitting in her chair.

"I feel terrible that you two have been kept apart for four days." Rhiannon said, softly.

"You shouldn't, Milady." Guy said.

"He's right. You mustn't feel badly, Rhiannon. No one could have predicted this." Meridwyn added.

"True, but this has gone on too long."

"It is what it is, Lady Rhiannon. You and I are the two closest to him. We must persist." Guy said.

"Until the wedding is called off. Then what? When should I consider taking Rebeccah with me and head back to my manor?" Rhiannon asked.

"You won't. There's a dangerous man still at large who is hell bent on harming the both of you. So, I suggest you make yourself comfortable, Milady." Guy said.

"I take it the men haven't found him yet?" Rhiannon asked, curiously.

"No. Not yet. But, my cousin made it a priority to find him, so we're continuing with the search efforts. Let's just focus on the tasks ahead for today. Try not to think too far ahead and worry yourself more." Guy advised her.

"I will do my best, but it's becoming increasingly difficult."

"So, we will do our best with the time we have with him today." Guy said.

"He's right. If you think too far ahead you will drive yourself mad, too." Meridwyn added.

"He is not mad, Meridwyn. Some… moronic fool who refuses to pay heed to weapons safety injured him, causing him to hit his head. First, he nearly died, and now… this. My George is in there! I'll never give up on him; and do not call him mad!" Rhiannon exclaimed.

"I'm sorry, dearest." Meridwyn said softly, as she looked downcast.

"That's the spirit, Lady Rhiannon. Tap into that energy whenever you feel hopeless about the situation. That's the woman my cousin needs right now." Guy smiled.

"You're right." Rhiannon sighed. Then she looked to Meridwyn. "Forgive me, my friend. My outburst was uncalled for."

"There's nothing to forgive, honey. It's natural that you're on edge. I would be, too."

"And, it's because of the support of friends like you that I'm getting through this." Rhiannon smiled.

"Good. Now, let's end this visit on a positive note. Perhaps it's time we head back to the private chambers, Milady." Guy suggested.

"Very well." Rhiannon agreed.

An hour later, Rhiannon was occupied with the task of general cleaning of the Sheriff's private chambers. She was using rags to dust surfaces with, and had just finished straightening the bed, and mopping the floor in the bath chamber. She was inclined to roll her eyes and mutter curses under her breath. Instead, she began to hum the melody of the tune she had composed.

The Sheriff was standing at the window in the den, peeking out of it and sipping his brandy when he suddenly noticed the humming. He frowned. He wondered if that meant she still had some work to do? He wanted to be alone. He needed to figure out why he had slept so much these last four days, among other questions swirling in his head.

Everyone kept telling him he'd been injured. He saw the dressing on his belly. Even observed the wound when he bathed the night previous. He could see it, and feel it, but couldn't understand for the life of him why he had no memory of it occurring. He didn't know who he was with, if anyone, when it happened. All he knew is what people told him. What they wanted him to know. He was in Newerche on a hunting venture, they said. Hunting — of all things. He sighed and shook his head, then took another swallow of the brandy.

He knew there was something quite strange going on. He felt like he was being controlled, but he didn't know the reason. Surely, it wasn't all because of the injury to his lower belly? And, who did this to him? He'd been wondering that since he was told about it. If it were Locksley who did it, he would know. He was certain he wouldn't forget, if that were the case.

He took another generous swallow of the brandy, then walked over toward the bedchamber doors. He stood in the doorway watching the green eyed servant busily toiling while humming, completely unaware of his presence.

"You've been at it for awhile now, Anna. Is your task nearly complete?" he asked.

She turned to face him, a bit startled to hear his voice.

"You expecting somebody… or, something, Milord?" Rhiannon asked.

"Ha, ha, ha! As if that is any of your concern. Why would you ask such a peculiar question? You jealous now?" he asked as his eyebrow shot north.

"Milord?"

"I realize you're fairly new to being assigned to my chambers, but I don't answer to my servants. Understood?" he said, firmly.

"Of course, Milord." Rhiannon said as she looked downcast.

"You know, you chose a peculiar occupation for one who is so… chatty."

"I suppose, Milord."

"Far too chatty. Probably the most talkative person of my staff." a beat. "Lucky me." he sighed.

"I shall remind myself to remain quiet, Milord. As long as you're satisfied with my work, that's what matters."

"Your work is fine. Just… some of the things you say so unabashedly are surprising to me. You're… unafraid." he said as he began to slowly walk toward her. He stopped about three feet away from her.

"Sometimes I… speak without thinking, I suppose." she shrugged and looked downcast.

"See, now you're just acting. Why not be the fearless woman you are and… look at me?" the Sheriff responded, firmly.

She slowly lifted her head and looked into his eyes.

"No trembling. No backing away. You're standing firm and facing me. That's what fearless is." he chuckled and took another swallow of his brandy.

"Should I be afraid?" she asked.

"That depends. Did you steal anything?" he asked with his eyes narrowed, suspiciously.

"No, Milord."

"Are you a spy?"

"Absolutely not, Milord. We've been over this already." she said, shaking her head.

"Alright, calm down. So, you say." he sighed as he moved in closer still.

Rhiannon swallowed, dryly.

"Are you involved in some sort of plot to control me?" he asked, pointedly.

"Excuse me, Milord?"

"You heard me."

"No, Milord. Of course not!" she answered, hurriedly, then looked away.

Damn it, George! It's not control. Some of us are trying to help and guide you. If you don't come out of this soon, hell will break loose. You could lose your title! Why can't you remember… something? Any little thing to bring you back? I'm so tired of that cursed tune, my lips are tingly, and I'm starting to hate my own composition!

"I find it rather peculiar that I've seen the same small number of people these last four days, over and over." Nottingham said, interrupting her thoughts.

"Pardon?" she asked.

"There's you; the other servant, Eleanor; a timid, mousey sentry at my door who is nameless; another one named Lyle; and my Lieutenant. That's pretty much it. The only people I've seen for four days, except a brief encounter with my Scribe, and another new staff from the armoury. Basically, I've only seen the same five people for four days, because I keep falling asleep, and getting nothing accomplished." a beat. "Interesting — don't you think?" he pointed out as his eyebrow shot north.

"Milord, why are you telling me this? I wouldn't know if that's normal, or out of the ordinary, because how would I know what you do all day? I am… just a servant." Rhiannon said.

"Because something suspicious is going on, and I think you're part of it. The question is… why? Is my Lieutenant granting you a few favours for your trouble?" he demanded.

"Milord, I'm just here to fulfill my duties — as your servant. Nothing more. Nothing less." she said confidently, hoping he would end this interrogation soon.

"You're absolutely sure you know of no trickery going on? No scheme to control me — keep me confined to my chambers?" he asked again, folding his arms, and assuming a wide stance.

"I know of no such plot, Milord." she replied, maintaining eye contact.

"I see." he sighed. "You never did answer me. Is your task nearly complete?"

"Yes, Milord."

"Good. Finish up, then you're dismissed." he yawned, then took another sip of the brandy. Then he left the bedchamber.

On her way out she turned to look at him.

"Is there anyone you'd like me to ask the sentry to summon for you, Milord?" Rhiannon asked.

"No. I'm rather sleepy… oddly. I'd rather be left alone." he said, waving her away.

"As you wish." she nodded. Then she exited the chambers.

After the door was closed, she looked to Gisborne.

"Alright. I'm done. Isabelle has the next watch, then I'll step in after that." Rhiannon announced.

"How was he?" Guy asked.

"All this time to himself is starting to show. He's full of questions now." she said, shaking her head.

"What kinds of questions?"

"Well, he's noticed that he's been limited in exposure to the same small number of people since Wednesday; and that he keeps falling asleep. He thinks there's a plot to control him and keep him confined to his chambers. He wanted to know if I was a part of it."

"I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised." Guy sighed.

"Of course not, Sir Guy. His gut is telling him something is off. His suspicious nature is what makes him a good Sheriff and Constable. I just wish his gut would direct him better to dig deeper." Rhiannon sighed.

"Indeed. Did he drink of the brandy?"

"Yes. The belladonna is starting to work. He's beginning to get sleepy now."

"Good. That will grant us some peace until the afternoon when Isabelle takes over for you. Looks like you'll be free probably until after dusk." Guy smiled.

"Yes. I shall try to make the best of it." she nodded.

"Good. Then you'll be better equipped to resume your role later."

"What about you, Sir Guy? When do you sleep?" Rhiannon asked.

"When Luke comes late at night. I might nod off here and there while my cousin sleeps, but it's always in the back of my mind I must be alert to him, so I don't really sleep. Even though the boredom is tiresome."

"I appreciate all that you're doing for him." Rhiannon smiled.

"Thank you, Milady Rhiannon. Likewise." he said.

After she went on her way, Guy quietly let himself back into the Sheriff's private chambers and closed the door. All seemed quiet. He was relieved.

He walked over to the bedchamber doors, took a breath in then softly opened one of them. The Sheriff was on the bed, reclined against pillows, fast asleep. Guy exhaled a sigh of relief.

Guy wished he could walk over to him and slap some sense into him. Instead, he closed the door again and went to a chair in the den, seating himself. All he could do was hope against hope that his cousin would return to his senses today. It had to be soon. The longer this went on, the higher the chances became of someone — other than the select group of people who knew of the situation — being alerted to the fact that something was seriously off with the Sheriff's state of mind. And, once that happened, it was only a matter of time when hell would start to rain down on Nottingham Castle.

When Rhiannon returned to the Gisbornes' chambers, her friend was eager to speak with her.

Meridwyn held the door open as she entered the chambers.

"You were gone awhile?" Meridwyn said when she closed the door.

"Yes." Rhiannon said as she held her ribs and went to sit in a chair.

"God! What did he have you do? Now, you're in pain! I'm getting the opium." Meridwyn sighed.

"Normally, I'd protest. However, this time, I'll concede to one drop. Curses!" Rhiannon muttered.

Meridwyn grabbed the vial from the table by the sofa and brought it to her.

"What took so long, Rhi?"

"I mopped the floor of the bathchamber, straightened the linens on the bed, then dusted every surface in the bedchamber." Rhiannon said with a knowing quirk of her brow. She uncapped the vial and took one drop.

"What? You know, the funny thing about that is, he would never allow you to perform all of those tasks. I'm sure of it."

"That is correct. He hates to see me doing anything, even lighting the fire, even though I keep telling him I'm perfectly capable." Rhiannon sighed.

"You had better rest, Rhiannon."

"I plan to. I'll visit my horse later in the afternoon. After all of that, I can't be bothered for awhile. Did anything exciting happen while I was gone?"

"I stepped out of the chambers for a bit to get some air on the balcony. I was feeling a bit queasy." Meridwyn began.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, better now. I ran into Floria on my way back here." Meridwyn said with a knowing look.

"Floria! Oh my. I'd forgotten all about her being here."

"Understandable, Rhi. I don't know how you're keeping anything straight right now, frankly." Meridwyn frowned with a shake of her head.

"I hope she doesn't run into George later. It wouldn't surprise me if he leaves his chambers when next he wakes." Rhiannon sighed.

"She reminded me that you're due for another fitting, either today, or tomorrow." Meridwyn said with a quirk of her brow.

"I had… forgotten about that, too. The last fitting of my wedding gown. Ha! What wedding?" Rhiannon scoffed, then held her ribs more tightly.

"Honey, we don't know what the next few days hold. Don't give up on this yet." Meridwyn reminded her.

"I'm just being… realistic."

"Be real all you want, but don't lose faith."

"It's difficult not to, Meridwyn. He's stewing in all sorts of questions. He's starting to wonder about some things." Rhiannon said.

"Good! Then maybe he'll start piecing things together, and something will come to him to snap him out of this state he's in." Meridwyn said.

"I hope you're right, but, there's no use going for a fitting of my gown. I can't even bear to see it right now, Meridwyn." Rhiannon said. "Things keep happening to either cancel, or postpone the wedding. Maybe fates are trying to warn me that… it's not meant to be?" she mused.

"What do you think, honey? Are you and my brother in law meant to be?"

"I've always thought we were, from the time he asked for my hand. Now… I don't know anymore." she sighed.

"Don't think on any of this now, Rhi. Perhaps you should get comfortable on the sofa?" Meridwyn suggested.

"I think you're right." Rhiannon agreed.

She stood from the chair and went to the sofa, seating herself. She placed the opium vial on the table, and covered herself with the soft blanket she brought from the Sheriff's bedchamber.

"I'll leave you to it. I'm going to get back to my knitting." Meridwyn said, as if it were a normal hobby of hers.

"What? Since when do you knit, Meridwyn?"

"I was taught when I was a girl. Lost interest in it. Now, I'm… making a bonnet and blanket for the baby. Next, I'll start on the booties" Meridwyn explained. Then, she realized she shouldn't have mentioned that, and she looked downcast.

"Don't do that, Meridwyn. Don't be hesitant to mention your child coming. You know I'm thrilled for you, and that sounds adorable! Show me once I awaken. Alright?"

"I will." Meridwyn nodded with a smile. Then she took leave of her.

It was early afternoon when Robert decided to pay a visit to Guy in the Sheriff's private chambers. Guy stepped outside the door to speak with him after he noticed the corridor was empty.

"How goes it, Sir Gisborne?" Robert asked.

"The same as ever. He's managed to stay in there all day… " Guy began, nodding to the door behind him. "… but, it wouldn't surprise me if he decides to go off somewhere when next he wakes." Guy sighed.

"Indeed. I imagine he's growing impatient being cooped up in there." Robert said.

"What news, Robert? Is there any?"

"Indeed. Firstly, the men are still away from the castle. Hopefully today's search will yield a decent lead, at least."

"Has there been any leads?" Guy asked.

"I'm not sure. Drake and Luke had something to report to the Captain at the end of the search yesterday, but… " Robert began, then let the words trail off. He shook his head.

"But… what, exactly?" Guy pressed.

"Well, Duke Farnsworth wasn't sure what to make of it, either." Robert sighed.

"Can you give me a hint?" Guy sighed, shaking his head.

"It has to do with the… how did Duke Farnsworth word it? Right. The word from Officers Drake and Luke is that… they were given a bit of a flimsy lead from the raven haired lady — who met with yourself and the Sheriff just over a sennight ago. I believe they said she showed up late, Thursday before last." Robert said.

"Wait… what now? What would she have to do with anything concerning the potato bloke?" Guy asked, incredulously.

"It turns out, Drake and Adam had seen her on Tuesday when they were knocking on doors to question people about sightings of the escaped prisoner. She told Drake and Luke yesterday she's been on the lookout for the man since she was told about it three days prior." Robert shrugged.

"Well, isn't that interesting? When we met her she spent most of her time arguing with us, and challenging us. And, suddenly, she wants to help us? Now, that's a new one. I dearly wish my cousin was of sound mind right now, because that's a good laugh I'd like to share with him!" Guy scoffed.

"Indeed." Robert said.

"So, what's this flimsy lead about?"

"It's rather peculiar, Sir Gisborne. Perhaps you should have a word with Luke about it when next he takes over from you?" Robert suggested.

"Luke doesn't come until late at night." Guy said, folding his arms.

"Perhaps a word with Duke Farnsworth, then?" Robert parried.

"Do I look like I have time to meet with the men? I barely have time to lay eyes upon my wife with all of this nonsense going on." Guy huffed in frustration.

"Right. She told Drake and Luke that she… knows the man is close by."

"Why? Was she sheltering him? Aiding him in any way?"

"No. Something to do with… an ability she has." Robert shrugged.

"What?" Guy asked, slowly.

"That's what she said to the men yesterday."

"Classic! And, what about this home she was oddly found occupying when Drake and Adam were at her door on Tuesday? I thought she was just here for a brief stay?"

"Apparently, she is staying there. She inherited the home and property when a relative passed away recently."

"How convenient! I wish George was back to normal so he could hear about this. This is ludicrous! So… she's staying now? In Nottingham?" Guy asked, shaking his head.

"It would appear so. Yes." Robert nodded.

"Well, that's another matter we'll have to tackle once the escaped prisoner is found. Is there anything else?"

"Well, back on that topic, she told Luke and Drake she is requesting to meet with Milord again." Robert said.

"Really? I wonder why?"

"I don't know. The men don't know what's it's regarding, either. She just said she had something of importance to share with him that he would be interested to hear." Robert said.

"Well, that's going to have to wait. Any other updates, Robert?"

"Yes. The sword for the Sheriff is nearly complete. The one my sister commissioned us to craft for a wedding gift for him."

"Hmm. I'd forgotten about that. I've been… growing increasingly concerned about other things." a beat. "I suppose there's no rush for that sword now."

"I guess we shall see. I just went ahead with it as if everything were… normal. It's not up to me to sully their… plans." Robert said.

"Their wedding plans have already been sullied from the looks of it, Robert. I'm not holding my breath that anything will change soon." Guy sighed.

"My sister is already losing hope. If I remain hopeful, maybe it will help to lift her spirits?"

"Indeed."

"So, If things do change, I'd like you to take a look at it. There's still a few enhancements I'd like to add to the hilt, and the pommel." Robert explained.

"Indeed. I'm interested to see it, Robert. Let us hope he comes back to his senses soon."

"The memory loss surely cannot last much longer. Could it? That wouldn't make any logical sense." Robert suggested.

"That's what I thought when this was noticed on Wednesday, yet, here we are." Guy sighed.

"Right. I best get back. I have Percival transcribing a few notes for me. His writing is more legible than mine is."

"Percival? Whom is that?" Guy asked, slightly bewildered.

"Percival Peveril. He is the Scribe." Robert smiled.

"Oh, I see. I don't think I ever knew his name." Guy said.

"Well, now you do. I think he quite likes being called by name."

"Right. Well, keep me apprised of any developments."

"Of course." Robert nodded. Then he took leave of him.

When mid afternoon came, Isabelle reported to the Sheriff's private chambers to join Guy in waiting for the Sheriff to awaken. She was glad when Thomas made an appearance to check in on the Sheriff and assess his wound. There was a growing tension amongst those who were privy to the change in the Sheriff's health. She felt it from everyone: her husband, her sister in law, Guy, even Meridwyn who hadn't witnessed the change first hand, but was well aware of what those changes could mean.

Everyone had the same concern: someone else was going to get wise to the abrupt change in the Sheriff's state of mind. And then, it would be difficult to keep the private matter contained. Once word got out, the consequences would be dire. As far as she could tell, it was up to she and Thomas to try to keep everyone calm.

After a time, Thomas came out of the bedchamber, and reported to them that physically speaking, the Sheriff was doing well. His wound was healing, the fever was still absent. No evidence of internal bleeding. Nothing of any significance to report. Every day he had good news to report, yet nothing had changed. She sighed as she observed their conversation.

"This is madness, Thomas. Every day you say the same thing: he's healing and progressing well. When is that head of his going to follow suit?" Guy asked, impatiently.

"I cannot answer that." Thomas frowned, shaking his head.

"There must be something else we can do, because… obviously, what we've been doing isn't working. There must be some other treatment, or medicament we can try?" Guy insisted.

"I know of no other course of action besides sleep, fluids, nutrition, and time."

"Thomas, let me be frank with you. There's an urgency to this that I don't think you under — "

"The wedding scheduled in three days hence. Yes." Thomas said.

"It's a lot more serious than that. Forget the wedding. Everyone privy to this is wise to the fact that the wedding shall not be taking place. This is about much more than that. Lady Rhiannon will never give up on him. That much we know. Once he snaps out of it, of course, they will resume their plans." Guy sighed. "The larger problem threatens his title — as Sheriff of this county. He needs to demonstrate a sound mind in order to retain his position. Right now, he is not of sound mind. His role as Sheriff is not just a job to him, it's part of his entire identity!" Guy exclaimed.

"I see." Thomas exhaled sharply. "Yes, I suppose I thought we had more time to work with before that became an issue."

"We're running out of time, Thomas. We must come up with a new plan." Guy said, firmly.

"Very well. I will think on this and get back to you later. For now, let's continue what we've been doing. There's another medicus just outside of the Village. I'll send word to him to ask his opinion."

"Good. My cousin can work around physical injury. That's not a problem; but, we need to hasten the recovery of his mind. There's no way he can perform his duties in the current state he is in." Guy reiterated.

"Understood. As I said, I'll look into this further. For now, continue what you've been doing." Thomas said.

"I will. When you consult your colleague about this, do not mention my cousin's name as the charge you're referring to with the memory problem. Am I clear?" Guy asked, firmly.

"Of course, Sir Guy." Thomas assured him.

Guy nodded, and Thomas went on his way.

Rhiannon was just waking from her nap. She sat up from the sofa, rubbed her eyes, then walked over to the doors of the Gisbornes' bedchamber and knocked.

"Come in!" Meridwyn called out, cheerily.

Rhiannon opened the door and smiled as she watched Meridwyn set her knitting project down.

"Ah! You're finally awake, honey. You poor thing. Your sleep schedule is a mess right now, if you don't mind my saying so." Meridwyn said as she walked over to greet her.

"You got that right. At least I feel better than I did this morning. Do you… happen to have a couple of buckets of water on hand in your bath chamber, Meridwyn? I should like to wash my hair before I venture outside."

"I do. I like to keep it on hand for hand washing, or splashing water on my face. Things of that nature."

"Good. Would you mind if I use the water? I shall send for more for you on my way out." Rhiannon said.

"Of course not, Rhiannon. Although, I can't imagine why you'd wash your hair before going to the stables — of all places." Meridwyn sighed.

"It's not like I plan to lay down in the stall." Rhiannon grinned.

"I should hope not, Rhi!" Meridwyn laughed.

"Before I do that, let me see what you're making. I'm intrigued. I never knew this about you."

"That I could knit? It wasn't exactly a hot topic to mention before." Meridwyn said as she picked up the bonnet she was working on, carefully, so that the stitches wouldn't slide off the needles. She held it up in front of Rhiannon.

"It's adorable, Meridwyn! And, very fine work, I must say." Rhiannon smiled.

"Thank you. I was always good at it. I just lost interest in it. I picked it back up about a fortnight ago. Probably won't need to do this again until I'm old and in need of a shawl, but… "

"Or, if you have another child."

"Let's not get too far ahead of ourselves, Rhi. One child at a time. Hopefully not too many of them. If I start to resemble Harriet Busby in the future, you have my permission to slip a few drops of whatever lethal poison into my tea." Meridwyn smirked.

"Duly noted. The same goes for me, although, I still need to work on the first." Rhiannon said softly, then looked downcast.

"It will happen, honey. There's no reason it won't. You're young, fit — "

"And, my betrothed doesn't know who I am. Closest I've been to him since this started on Wednesday is a couple of feet from him." Rhiannon sighed.

"Don't think on that just now, Rhi. This is your time off. There's fresh towels in the bath chamber. Do you need soap?"

"No. I have a lovely rose scented liquid soap that Mortianna made for me, and a similarly scented rinse to apply after it's washed."

"Damn! How come she's never offered me liquid soap? I must have a word with her about that. That sounds divine."

"Its heavenly. It's perfect in the bath, too. I'll mention it to her if you like?" Rhiannon suggested.

"Good thinking. I think she favours you better than me. Let me know if you need anything else."

"Silly goose. I don't think she has favourites. Anyway, thank you, Meridwyn."

"Don't mention it, honey. You best get started since you've a date with Sugarlumps." Meridwyn giggled.

"It's Sugarstar, Meridwyn." Rhiannon corrected her.

"Of course. How silly of me." Meridwyn sighed, then returned to her knitting.

Close to an hour later, Rhiannon was standing outside of Madam Oberon's door. She prayed that Floria wouldn't be inside there. It was already going to be difficult enough to lie to Madam Oberon. She took in a breath and knocked.

In moments the door opened. Madam Oberon smiled when she greeted her.

"Ah! Bon après-midi, Mademoiselle Rhiannon. Are you here for your fitting? You must be!" Madam Oberon exclaimed, excitedly.

"Actually, no, Madame. Not at this time." Rhiannon began.

"But, the wedding is fast approaching, non?"

"Indeed, Madame. But I'm… not up to that today. Perhaps tomorrow? How would that work for you?" Rhiannon lied.

There was no way she could get around this. She simply could not reveal the truth of the matter — that there would most likely not be a wedding happening on Tuesday. And, if she had to tell her Wardrobe Mistress such news — yet again, she would have to come up with some reason — aside from the real reason, why it was cancelled.

"Are you sure, Mademoiselle? You seem a little… distressed. Although, I'm pleased to see your arm must be improving?"

"It is. I'm fine, Madame. Just having a bit of an off day. You know, since… losing the child."

"I see. Tomorrow is perfect. Would you like to come in for tea, mon cher?"

"No, Madame. Not tea, but, I would like to come in. But… you don't… have company with you in there, do you?" Rhiannon asked.

"Just myself and Marie, mon cher." Madam Oberon smiled.

"Good." Rhiannon nodded.

Madam Oberon held the door open and beckoned for her to come inside. She took a deep inhale as Rhiannon breezed past her, and closed the door.

"Are you wearing an eau de toilette, mon cher? It's smells of roses. Tout simplement divin, Mademoiselle!" Madam Oberon smiled. (Simply divine)

"Merci, Madame. It's a combination of scented soap, and a rinse. Both were used on my hair. It makes me feel cheery."

"Oh, I'm sure it does, mon cher. It's good to find joy in simple things when we need them."

"Indeed, Madame. Which is why I'm here. I need to — "

"Change into your leather? Of course, mon cher. Say no more." Madam Oberon winked.

"Merci, Madame. I won't be long. I do thank you. I need a distraction. You understand?"

"Of course, mon cher. I only have one suggestion to make. You shall take my cape. It's wet and rather chill outside."

"Very well, Madame. If you insist." Rhiannon smiled.

At this time, Guy and Isabelle were waiting in the usual spots outside of the Sheriff's private chambers, expecting him to open the door at any moment. Isabelle had the goblet prepared with the two drops of belladonna, and the brandy decanter at the ready. She stood in the alcove, waiting, and listening. After a time, she heard the door open.

"Guard? I need my servant to bring me my brandy. Who the hell keeps taking it away? This is absurd!" the Sheriff demanded.

"I haven't noticed anyone taking it from your chambers, Milord. I'll make some inquiries about it." Guy said softly, keeping his voice disguised and his head low.

"Good of you to show some initiative, for once." he remarked, facetiously. "Have her bring a broom, too." he said, then closed the door.

After a few moments, Isabelle stepped out of the alcove with the decanter of brandy in one hand, and the goblet in the other.

"Did you hear?" Guy asked.

"Indeed. Sounds like a simple request for a change. Except, not sure what cleaning he would require since Rhiannon cleaned the entire bath chamber, and bed chamber this morning." Isabelle commented, shaking her head.

"Indeed. I hope she rested after that." Guy sighed.

"Yes. I saw her just before she fell asleep. She was on the sofa, covered in that blanket she took from his chambers, when I stopped by. She looked exhausted." Isabelle frowned.

"No doubt. He had her run ragged this morning. You stay hidden. I shall find a broom." a beat. "God, I'll be glad when I don't need to know where the cleaning supplies are kept anymore." Guy huffed, then he went on his way.

He returned only a short time later, and passed her the broom.

"Do you think we've waited enough time now?" she asked, as she took it from him.

"Yes. Let's get this over with. The sooner we begin, the quicker he'll be asleep." Guy said. Then, he turned and wrapped on the door.

The door opened within moments.

"Good! Do send Emm — " he stopped when he saw who had stepped into view from behind the guard. "Oh. It's you. Right. Enter."

"Yes, Milord Sheriff." Isabelle nodded.

He closed the door after her, and directed her to the table where the brandy was usually kept.

"It's Eleanor, right?" the Sheriff asked.

"Sure." Isabelle sighed as she set the decanter and the goblet on the table he had indicated.

"Eleanor, would you know who keeps taking the decanter, and the goblet out of my chambers?" he asked, pointedly.

Isabelle turned around to face him.

"No, Milord. I'm not aware. I… just thought this was your preference. So, I never questioned it, or noticed who might be doing that." she lied.

"It's funny. It was never noticeable to me until recently. Only the last four days. Isn't that rather peculiar?" he hinted.

"I… suppose it is, Milord. Anyway, it's here now. You might as well enjoy some of it while I sweep… what is it you'd like me to sweep, Milord?"

"A cursed gust of wind must have blown in through the window again. There is wood ash from the fireplace littering the floor in the bedchamber. If you could take care of that, that would be grand." he sighed.

"Of course, Milord. It shall be done." Isabelle nodded. Then, she carried the broom into the bedchamber.

Nottingham walked over to the table and poured a small measure of brandy into the goblet. He picked up the goblet and walked over to the window in the den. As he looked out of the window and absently brought the goblet to his lips, he suddenly stopped as a thought came to him.

"Anyway, it's here now. You might as well enjoy some of it… " he heard the servant's voice echoing in his mind. Words spoken only moments ago.

He moved the goblet away from him and peered inside of it, sniffing it. And then, he suddenly realized.

The reason he had been so sleepy these last four days. Thomas and Guy told him it was because of his injury — sustained during an outing he had no memory of. Very odd! He remembered Thomas giving him a vial on Wednesday, instructing him to take two drops to ease a simple headache. He was asleep for hours!

Next, Mortianna had summoned him, telling him nothing new with her portents. She gave him batwing tea to drink. He felt sleepy soon after, and again, he was asleep for several hours.

The Sheriff narrowed his eyes and set the goblet on the window ledge as he thought more of it. Every time he awakened, it was usually the same mousey guard on duty. Every time he summoned a servant to come, they would bring the decanter and a goblet, and encourage him to drink.

He suddenly recalled a moment when the green eyed servant was attempting to light the fire in the fireplace for him on Wednesday. He bent down to assist, then he felt pain. What was it she said to him? He pondered that for a moment or two. And then, it came to him.

"If it's painful, perhaps more brandy might help? It will also help to warm you."

Next, he could hear his own voice challenging her:

"Why are you eager for me to drink more brandy?"

Someone was consistently bringing him either a goblet, or a goblet plus a decanter into his chambers. And, soon after drinking it, he would get incredibly sleepy. Except for yesterday, when he made it to the Council Quarters. There were two goblets by the pitcher of water on the table. And, oddly, Guy was drinking water out of one of them. He rarely did that, not unless they were engaged in a lengthy meeting. Soon after he started drinking water out of his own goblet, the Sheriff felt sleepy. He recalled commenting about it to Guy.

"Why would I be feeling tired already? What the hell is going on, Gis?"

And, that's when Guy gave the usual response about him losing a lot of blood from his injury, and that he was still healing.

"Bollocks!" Nottingham muttered inaudibly, to himself.

Oh, there was definitely trickery going on. At least two servants he'd never laid eyes on until very recently, his cousin, the medicus, even Mortianna had been routinely drugging him using an unknown potion that Thomas gave to him. It appeared they were adding the same potion into brandy on several occasions, then, once with Mortianna's batwing tea, and once with water. Curses!

Nottingham picked up the goblet and walked toward the fireplace in the den. He poured the whole lot of it into the ash. He didn't know why these people were plotting to keep him asleep and confined in his chambers, but he was done with it, and he would certainly get to the bottom of it — imminently!

He walked over to the bedchamber and stood at the doorway, observing the blonde haired servant, sweeping the floor.

"Almost finished, Milord." Isabelle said, cheerfully. "How was your brandy?"

He stiffened just then.

"It was… quite pleasing." he lied. "Say, you didn't happen to see my Lieutenant on your way into my chambers, did you, Eleanor?"

"Well, no, Milord. I haven't seen him at all today." she lied.

"Right. He's supposed to be searching for the man at the top of my wanted list, along with his men. I'd forgotten that for a moment."

"Of course, Milord."

"And… what of my usual servant? Anna. The dark haired one who usually shows up. Where would she be?" the Sheriff inquired, curiously.

"It's her afternoon off, Milord Sheriff. She might be in the stables — " Isabelle stopped herself, covering her mouth briefly.

"What the hell would be she be going to the stables for?" he demanded as he folded his arms.

Isabelle was startled. He seemed awfully alert and focused for a man who had just drunk a goblet of brandy — containing two drops of belladonna. She looked downcast and sighed, trying to think of something.

"I'm waiting." he said, curtly.

"Right. She was… taking… some buckets of water down there for the stable master… to be used to groom one of the horses, Milord."

"What? That doesn't even make sense! Why can't Gervase get his own bloody water?"

"I don't know, Milord. All I know is when I saw her briefly this morning, she mentioned she was… needed in the stables later." Isabelle said.

The stables… I know what "the stables" is code for. Wait… what? How would I know that? How would I possibly know that Anna, or Emma -- or whatever that green eyed servant's name is, would be somewhere other than the stables, when she says she is headed there? What the hell is wrong with me?

"Are you alright, Milord Sheriff?" Isabelle asked, noticing how distracted he suddenly became.

"I'm fine. Finish what you're doing, then let yourself out. Nothing is to be taken to be laundered, and the decanter and goblet stay where they are. Understood?" he directed her, sternly.

"Yes, Milord Sheriff." she nodded.

He left the bedchamber, then grabbed his surcoat and gauntlets. He hastily donned them, then quickly left the chambers.

"Milord Sheriff? Is everything alright? You seem to be in a rush." Guy said, keeping his head down.

"What did I tell you yesterday, you nosy little insect? Or… are you in on this, too?" Nottingham asked, suspiciously.

"I don't know what you — "

"That's it! We're done here. Your time is up, whomever the hell you are!" he hissed through his teeth as he drew his fist back, then landed it hard on Guy's face, knocking him over.

Guy fell to the floor, unconscious.

"I'll deal with you later, you nosy waste of time!" he sneered.

Then, he quickly made his way down the corridor toward the staircase, his boots clicking confidently on the floor as he moved.

It was quite chill and windy outside, as rain was softly falling. Rhiannon was glad of it. She planned to work up a sweat. It had been at least a sennight since she had a chance to enjoy target practice with her bow and arrows. She knew this would be the perfect distraction for her to take her mind off of the current concern she and others were having.

Or, maybe not. But, at least she could work off some of her anger and frustration, and the fresh air would do her some good.

Finally, she arrived to the wooded area. She went to the weapons chest that her betrothed had kindly given her to store the bow, quiver of arrows, and the stuffed man inside of it. She sighed, wondering when the man she knew and loved would emerge from the shell he was stuck inside of now.

Forget it. There's no use wasting time thinking about any of that now. All I have is now to enjoy. These moments of solitude and perfecting my skills are all that I have to hold on to, until… who knows when? So, forget it, and take in the present.

She took the items out, then took Madam Oberon's velvet cloak off and placed it inside the chest, closing the lid. The chest would keep it dry until she was ready for it. Then, she walked toward the tree she always used, and fastened the stuffed man to it. She grabbed the bow, slung the quiver of arrows over her shoulder, and walked a good eighty yards away, positioning herself to take aim.

She deftly pulled an arrow from the quiver, and positioned it in the bow, pulling back on the string to take aim.

"This is for whomever the fool was who injured my man with an arrow. I'm imagining you being the target. You nearly killed him! And now, you've left me with someone who may be forever altered. God damn you, you cursed, irresponsible moron!" she exclaimed, then released the arrow.

She smirked with satisfaction when the arrow hit the target — dead centre mass.

Robert was just exiting the Council Quarters with the Scribe. The Scribe had successfully transcribed, and compiled the notes that Robert had tasked him with.

"Thank you, Percival. Your handwriting is much more legible than mine is." Robert smiled.

"Your welcome, Robert. I'm glad to assist, especially… for one who is as thankful as you are." the Scribe grinned.

"Indeed." Robert smiled.

Just then, the Scribe could hear loud footsteps bounding down the staircase. Those footsteps sounded awfully familiar to him, and hearkened back to another time for him. He knew instinctively whom those belonged to. He looked ahead and to his left for confirmation. He sighed.

"Robert? Cast your eyes over to the staircase."

Robert turned his head, then exhaled sharply.

"Curses! Where do you suppose he's headed?" Robert asked, quietly.

They stood and watched as the Sheriff moved purposefully toward the rear door that led out to the gardens.

"What the… what do you suppose is back there?"

"I'm not sure, Robert, but… perhaps you should follow him? He'll listen to you. He surely won't listen to me. Especially… in the current state he is in." the Scribe suggested, with a shake of his head.

"You're right." Robert sighed. "If I was one who used profanity, here's a time I would use it. But, I won't." he muttered as he started after him.

"Good fortune to you, Robert!" came the parting words from the Scribe.

The Sheriff didn't know why he was compelled to venture through the mazes of hedges and garden walls, but he knew he must. He had to keep going, all the way to the back. He wished he understood the reason why, but he couldn't conceptualize it. He was following his gut instinct. His gut instinct was never wrong.

I should be going to look for Guy. He has some serious explaining to do! But, why do I know that green eyed servant is well beyond the gardens, possibly in the wooded area? Strange… but, she'll be first to be questioned… until I see him and wring his cursed neck!

Robert was about ten yards behind him. He wouldn't normally follow that closely, but with the labyrinth of gardens he was walking through there was no choice. Robert would lose him if he didn't stay close.

He took a brief moment to note the beautiful landscaping in the area, even though the design of it made it difficult to navigate through. There were a number of sculptures, stone benches, a couple of fountains, and myriad varieties of flowers, most of which were in a state of autumn decay. He did detect a few roses still holding on, here and there. It was the hedge mazes that were infuriating him, however.

Robert wondered what on earth could be so important back here that the Sheriff needed to get to? He would have been less surprised to see the Sheriff head to the stables. He shook his head as the wind and rain picked up, and wondered how the Sheriff got past Sir Guy who was manning the door of the private chambers. And, where was Sir Guy now? The last time Nottingham managed to escape the confines of his chambers, Gisborne wasn't that far behind. Was Isabelle still toiling inside of those chambers, acting as a servant?

Finally, the Sheriff got through the mazes of gardens and was walking through the clearing that was ahead of the wooded area. He thought he could see a figure of a person just past the clearing. They were dressed all in black, facing the opposite direction of him. What was that person doing, standing there? And, whom was it? It certainly didn't look like one of the Black Knights.

Whomever it was they were clearly no one on his staff. Nobody came out this far unless it was necessary.

As he slowly moved in closer, he could see the person was wearing a black leather cloak with the hood pulled up. A thought occurred to him that it could be Locksley, except the closer he advanced, he could tell this person couldn't be him. They were not nearly tall enough, and too small framed. But, it could be one of the other players in Locksley's band of outlaws.

He positioned his right hand on the pommel of his sword as he continued, hiding behind trees when he could, so as to maintain the element of surprise.

Robert finally made it through the other side of the labyrinth of hedges. He continued through the clearing, but he couldn't see anyone ahead of him. He was bewildered, and stopped in his tracks. Where was Nottingham now?

The Sheriff observed the leather clad person walk away from him. They were headed to a tree in the distance. As the person moved, he could see something fastened to a tree. It appeared to be a stuffed man used for target practice. Who would be way out here honing their bow skills? The men usually did that in the training area near to the stables.

He observed the individual remove the arrow from it, and they headed back in Nottingham's direction. He quickly scanned the area and noticed an old oak tree nearby, in amongst other trees. He ran to it to take cover. He didn't wish to be seen. Whomever this person was, he would surprise them.

While he was hiding behind the large trunk of the tree, he was completely obscured, even from where Robert stood in place, halfway through the clearing.

Robert paused a few moments, looking around him. He could no longer get a visual on the Sheriff. He sighed and shook his head, frustrated that he lost him. There was only one thing to do now. He needed to get Sir Guy. Gisborne would know what to do, and he might possibly know what is so intriguing back there to have the Sheriff practically running down the stairs and out the rear door of the castle. He took a last look around, then turned to head back, annoyed he would need to make his way through the cursed hedges again.

The leather clad figure finally came into view again, moving a little closer toward the tree where the Sheriff stood. The person turned toward the tree they were shooting at, their back to him. He stepped from behind the tree to get a better look.

He was approximately ten feet away. Close enough to tell the garments the person wore were finely tailored. They were not dressed like an outlaw at all. This person before him was wanting for nothing. He began to question his initial instinct that they were part of Locksley's rabble. But… who could it possibly be? They looked too small to be a man?

The figure positioned their arrow in the bow and pulled it back in the string. A moment passed, then the arrow was released. Nottingham was surprised to note the arrow hit the target dead in the centre.

It was then he decided it was time to make his presence known.

"You there! Who the hell do you think you are, using my property for your leisure? Impressive shot, but you're not one of my Black Knights. Turn around and face me, craven." the Sheriff growled.

The figure stiffened, then lowered their longbow. After a moment passed, they slowly turned around to face him.

The Sheriff's eyes widened when he recognized the eyes staring back at him.

"What in God's hell are you doing way back here — dressed like that? Whom did you steal those weapons, and garments from? One of my men?" he demanded.

"These are my clothes and weapons, Milord." Rhiannon said.

"Alright. I'll play. If you're honestly that financially secure, what the hell are you doing working for me — as a servant, no less?" he demanded.

"Milord?"

"Oh, so you're going to play coy with me? Guess what, Missy? That doesn't work with me! I'll tell you what you're doing playing the part of a poor, unfortunate working girl: you're playing at working as a servant because you're actually an espial!" he shouted, unable to contain his fury.

"Oh, for God's sake!" Rhiannon exclaimed, rolling her eyes.

"May I remind you I'm your Sheriff, Missy? Whether you really are a servant, an espial, or one of Locksley's cult followers, I am still your Sheriff!" he bellowed.

"Oh, I know exactly who you are. Do you? Rhiannon retorted, unmoved.

"You impertinent wretch! You're in on it. Don't pretend you're not. You, my Lieutenant, my medicus — of all people, a couple of sentry, and that other servant, Eleanor. You're all slipping poison into my drinks, forcing me to be confined to my chambers. But… why?" a beat. "You best tell me now, Missy. Start talking. Who put you up to this? Was it Locksley, or one from his parade of minions?" Nottingham demanded, sharply, and inched in a bit closer.

"Oh, the hell with this." Rhiannon muttered.

She didn't know why she was compelled to do it, but she'd just about had it with the man at this moment. She reached behind her to quickly grab an arrow from the quiver, loaded her bow, and aimed it at him.

"Do not take one step closer." she said, firmly.

"What the hell are you doing? Do you think you're the only one here with a weapon?" he grinned, deviously, as he pulled back his surcoat to reveal his sword. It was still sheathed, the scabbard attached to his belt, but the silver hilt was quite visible, gleaming against the black velvet and leather he wore.

Rhiannon had no intention to fire the arrow, of course. That was the reason he got into this cursed mess. But, his accusations were ludicrous. She needed to get him to stop.

"Now, you listen to me! You are being ridiculous now. I honestly don't know what else to do to get you to see?" Rhiannon exclaimed in exasperation.

"What are you nattering about? What in the devil could it possibly be that you would want me to see?"

The wind picked up and nudged the hood from her. It fell to her shoulders, and her hair, though tied back, began to dance in the wind.

"Step away from me, Milord. Why don't you take a few steps back, stop talking, and just look at… "

Suddenly, her voice became distant as the breeze brought a waft of fragrance toward him. A heavy scent of roses was detectable in the air as the wind picked up and the rain fell a little harder. He briefly closed his eyes, unable to escape the scent. And then… a sudden flash of images played out in his mind.

He remembered being in the Cathedral on a misty, dreary day in September, only a year ago. He was in the reception hall when he noticed a woman in the distance wearing a black and burgundy gown. She dropped her eyelids and glanced at him from the corner of her eye. He was immediately drawn to her. Then he lost sight of her, but later found her out at the garden wall in the courtyard. She was cupping a white rose and holding it to her nose, sniffing it, when he approached her from back of her.

And then, he saw everything. Kissing her in the rain. He heard the words she spoke to him when the rain picked up and he led her back to the castle.

"Afraid of a little rain, Sheriff?… You're confusing me with other maidens, my Lord. We are not all cut from the same cloth."

Next, he grimaced when he vividly recalled seeing her laying in a pool of blood. Her skin so white it matched the sheet she was covered in. He thought she was dead, and remembered the horror when he first saw her laying lifeless on that bed in a darkened room of an abandoned castle, a fortnight's journey north from Nottingham.

Then, he could see every joyous moment they shared, and every argument; the number of times he nearly lost her; the horror when she almost went into labour; the expression on her face when she pulled the bed linens down and noticed she was bleeding. He saw her eyes glistening with tears as she nestled into him when they held their dead baby daughter; and her crouched by his feet, weeping into his velvet breeches when she thought he was dead. She found him seated in a chair; and she told him his eyes were open, unblinking, yet he thought he was asleep. She was terrified.

He opened his eyes and his face softened as he looked at her.

She was too worked up to notice the change in his countenance.

"Are you even listening to me? Kindly back away from me, Milord." Rhiannon said firmly, still holding the loaded bow, aiming it directly toward his chest.

"Go ahead, my lady. For, I know you're a good shot, even if you stood eighty yards away from me. Zeus knows you're a better shot than… never mind." he sighed before he continued. "If I am the villainous man that you fear, then take your shot." a beat. "You only get one, Rhiannon." the Sheriff said.

Rhiannon stared at him, her mouth gaping slightly. Her complexion turned pale, and she lowered the bow.

"George?" she asked, slowly.

"Of course, my angel. Who on earth did you think I was? I'm standing directly in front of you! Why… what in the devil were you aiming your bow at me for? And, why address me formally?" he asked, shaking his head in bewilderment.

"Oh, my stars! George!" Rhiannon squealed. She dropped the bow and arrow to the ground and moved in quickly toward him. "George? It's really you?"

"Of course, my lady. What has you so frightened? Come." he said, as he wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

"My love, I thought you were lost to us… forever!" Rhiannon looked up into his eyes as a tear streamed down her cheek.

He gently used his thumb to wipe the tear from her face.

"My lady, what are you talking about?" he asked, genuinely. Then he stopped and pulled away slightly. "Wait… how did I get here? Why… don't I recall coming out here? What day is it?"

"You don't… remember? What is the last thing you remember?" Rhiannon asked, curiously.

"Falling asleep beside you last night. It was an hour or two after I met with Luke. Before him I saw Guy. Oh… and Thomas visited in between the meetings I had with them — to change out the cursed leeches!" he huffed.

"Sugar, that happened on Tuesday. Today is Saturday." Rhiannon said, gently.

"What?" he asked, incredulously. "Was I unconscious all of that time? How did I get here, then? Sleepwalking?" he asked, narrowing his eyes, and shaking his head in disbelief.

"No, George. You were lucid."

"Impossible! How could I be lucid?"

"We have some catching up to do. You lost your memory, my love. And with that, your sense of time. For the last four days, you didn't know me, nor anyone who wasn't known to you… three years prior to now." Rhiannon explained.

"What?" he demanded. "How the hell could that possibly happen?"

"Is your head hurting you, George?" she asked, annoying him that she was changing the topic.

"What does that matter?"

"It matters." she said.

"Yes, it does. Especially, at the back. And, it's no wonder with all of this nonsense you just told me of." he huffed.

"George, when you were hit with the arrow last Sunday, you fell off your horse. You hit your head when you landed on the ground. That is what caused the change in your memory. You thought you were… living in eleven ninety four when you finally awoke on Wednesday."

"Curses! That bastard owes me for this! All of that time wasted. You said I didn't know you. Is that true?"

"Yes."

"Forgive me, my lady." he said and looked downcast.

"There's nothing to forgive. This was none of your doing. I just pray that… the George I know is here to stay."

"Of course I am, my angel. I'm with you. Always." he said as he held her in a gentle embrace, then softly kissed her lips.

"Oh, how I missed you." she whispered.

"My angel, the rain is picking up. We should tuck away your weapons and the target, then head back inside. We have some things to take care of."

"What things?" Rhiannon asked, curiously.

"Firstly, answer me this, Rhiannon, and tell me truthfully: am I still the Sheriff?"

"Yes, my love. You're still the Sheriff of Nottingham." she smiled.

"Then, I owe a great deal of debt to whoever involved who covered for me to afford me to retain my position. It sounds like I had lost my senses for too long of a time. That could have had disastrous results." he sighed.

"Indeed, my love, but that's behind us now. Hopefully, it shall never be a concern again."

"Good. Very well. We have people to meet and a castle to ready, my angel."

"For what?"

"Are you being coy? Our wedding is in three days hence!"

"Is that still your wish?" she asked.

"Of course it is, my lady. Why wouldn't it be?"

"A lot happened in… four days."

"Do not tell me I was unfaithful to you." the Sheriff sighed.

"You were not. But, you weren't… your usual self." she said.

"I suppose not if I thought the year was eleven ninety four." he sighed. "Try to put that out of your mind, my lady. At least until we're back inside and alone again, then you can share that with me. I just hope I… didn't scare you. We'll discuss all of it, my lady. We have a wedding to plan, and we need to talk about… when we're going to bury our daughter. All I need to know is will we do it before, or after the wedding? Generally, it would have been taken care of long before now, but, the stars had other plans." he sighed and looked downcast.

"Very well. Maybe you should sit on that bench nearby, George? You're looking a bit pale again. I'll take a few moments to put my things away." Rhiannon suggested.

"No, my angel. We'll do it together." he smiled. "Let's go, before the rain starts lashing. It has already picked up. Those clouds above us are ominous looking. We're in for a storm."

Robert was walking swiftly down the corridor of the second floor toward the Sheriff's private chambers. As he drew closer, he saw no one manning the door. Then he noticed Sir Guy and Isabelle seated on a bench near to it. Gisborne was bent forward, his head in his hands. Isabelle was bent down, too, talking to him.

Isabelle straightened when she heard footsteps approaching. She expected it to be the Sheriff. Instead, it was Robert.

"Robert! Come. Sir Gisborne has been hurt!" she exclaimed.

"What's happened?" Robert asked as he moved in closer to them.

Guy slowly raised his head. His upper cheek and the area around his left eye was swollen and bruised.

"What in the devil?" Robert asked.

"The bastard knocked me out… with his fist. Damn it! I've just about had it up to my eyebrows with him!" Guy exclaimed.

"I just saw him." Robert said.

"Where?" Guy asked as he suddenly found the strength to stand. He folded his arms and narrowed his eyes. "Where is he, Robert?"

"He slipped out the rear exit. I followed him past the hedge labyrinth, but then I lost him. I thought it was best to come and get you."

"The hell would he be going there for?"

"I don't know." Robert shrugged.

"Let's go. If I have to tie him down, we're doing it. Perhaps I should return the favour to him… " he said while pointing to the left side of his face. "… then, maybe it will knock some cursed sense into him — finally!" Guy huffed.

The two men turned and quickly headed toward the staircase, leaving Isabelle sitting there on the bench, stunned.

It was about fifteen minutes later as they entered into the courtyard. They looked ahead and saw nothing, but the maze of hedges quickly came into view, blocking everything else. They just started through the maze when they saw the Sheriff and Lady Rhiannon walking toward them. They were about fifteen feet ahead. Rhiannon was holding Nottingham's right arm. The blue velvet cape she wore, and his black leather surcoat billowed in the wind behind them. The rain was falling harder and the wind was fierce, but they didn't seem to notice. They appeared to be engaged in a cheerful conversation.

"Uh… that doesn't look like a Sheriff and his servant to me." Robert scoffed.

"No." Guy muttered.

The Sheriff finally noticed Guy and Robert walking toward them. As they moved in closer to them, he spoke.

"Gis? What in the devil happened to your face?" a beat. "Did one of the Rothwell clan do that to you? Where's Luke?"

"No… Cousin. It wasn't one of them." Guy said, somewhat astonished that his cousin was making perfect sense… finally.

Robert gave Rhiannon a knowing look. She whispered something to the Sheriff. The Sheriff turned back toward the men, widening his eyes.

"Wait. Did… I do that?"

Guy sighed as he paused a moment before answering.

"Indeed, Cousin. In fairness, however… you didn't know it was me." he muttered.

"Rhiannon tells me that for the last four days, my mind tricked me into thinking the year was eleven ninety four." a beat. "I've known you your entire life, Gis. How did I not know you?" he asked, curiously.

"Because I was playing a role — as a sentry stationed at your door." Guy said.

"Forgive me, Cousin."

"Are you really… fine now?" Guy asked.

"I think so. My wound is tender, and my head hurts a little, but I'm back in the present." the Sheriff nodded.

"What brought you back… to your senses?" Guy asked.

"I'm not sure, but I think it may have something to do with Rhiannon's hair." he said.

"My what?" Rhiannon asked, astonished.

"It smells like you steeped it in rose water, my lady. The first time we spoke you were sniffing a white rose, out in the courtyard." Nottingham explained.

"Now, I wish I'd thought to use the soap and the rinse long before today!" Rhiannon huffed.

"It matters not. I'm here now, my angel." he smiled.

"Guess you were right about sounds and smells triggering memories, Sir Guy." Rhiannon smiled.

"Aye. Who knew? That was only what I'd heard, but I didn't know it to be true. Until now." Guy said.

"Let's head inside. I need you men to bring me up to speed on everything I've missed." Nottingham said.

"You go ahead. The cold rain is… feeling good on my face." Guy said, as he looked up to the sky.

"We can apply something cold to it inside the castle, Gis." the Sheriff said.

"Very well." Guy sighed.

The four of them continued on their way toward the rear entrance of the castle.

"Should I ask Percival to join us?" Robert asked.

"That depends. Who in God's hell is Percival?" Nottingham asked with a quirk of his brow.

"Your Scribe, Milord. He… actually has a name, you know." Robert smirked.

"I see. No. We don't need him right now. It will just be us… unless, the Captain is here?"

"He is out with the men, searching for the escaped prisoner." Guy said as they got closer to the door.

"Good. I'll have a talk with the Duke and my top men when they arrive."

"You might want to speak with Drake, too. Possibly Adam, as well." Robert hinted.

"Fine. Let's get inside out of this rain, and you can clue me in why I should need to meet with Drake and Adam." Nottingham said.

Once they got inside the door, Rhiannon stopped for a moment.

"What is it, my lady?" Nottingham asked.

"Earlier, you said your wound was tender and your head was hurting. I've something with me that will help." Rhiannon said as she pulled back the cape. She reached into a pocket of the long, black leather fitted coat she was wearing, and extracted a vial.

Guy and Robert were astonished when they caught sight of the garb she wore under the blue velvet cape.

"Rhiannon? What… are you wearing?" Robert asked, curiously.

Nottingham grinned and looked downcast.

"It's what I wear for target practice. You got a problem with that, Brother?"

"Target practice?" he asked.

"Yes, target practice. For God's sake, Robert. It was you and Eddie who taught me. I've my own bow and arrows now." she sighed.

"Guess that explains how she shot an arrow at the threatening… maiden in the abandoned manor last week." Guy said to Robert.

"Indeed." Rhiannon smirked.

"Wait. What is that you're giving him, Milady?" Guy asked.

"Opium. Thomas gave some to both of us." Rhiannon said.

Guy looked to his cousin.

"Are you feeling tired at all?" Guy asked.

"No. Should I be?" Nottingham replied as his eyebrow shot north, suspiciously.

"That depends. Do you recall drinking any brandy recently?"

"I've a vague memory of tossing a goblet of brandy into the wood ash in the fireplace in my den. Although, I don't know why I would do such a thing?" Nottingham said with a bewildered expression on his face.

"You must have figured it out." Guy nodded.

"As a matter of fact, he did. He had that part all worked out before… he returned to the present time." Rhiannon said.

"Figured what out? What are you two on about?" Nottingham asked, suspiciously.

"That there was something in your brandy to make you sleep." Guy sighed.

"What? Who would do that?" the Sheriff asked, pointedly.

"Lady Isabelle did it this time." Guy said.

"What?" he asked, slowly.

"Thomas recommended you sleep as much as possible to heal your… mind, George. Every time you awakened, one of us put two drops of belladonna into your brandy, or whatever it was you might have been drinking at the time, to facilitate that." Rhiannon explained.

"I see." Nottingham sighed. "Well, I feel fine now. I'm not tired, and the pain is just a nuisance. I don't need the opium, my lady."

"Take the vial with you, anyway. If I need a drop I'll grab your vial. I know where it is." Rhiannon said as she passed it to him.

He took it from her and slipped it into the pocket of his surcoat — only because he didn't feel like arguing with her. They arranged to meet later, and the men headed to the Council Quarters as Rhiannon headed up the stairs.

Once they got into the Council Quarters, the door closed behind them, Robert looked to the Sheriff.

"You sure you're up for this right now?"

"Indeed. From the sounds of it, I've missed enough already." Nottingham said as he went to the table and seated himself at the head of it.

The men followed suit, and their meeting commenced.

"Today is Saturday, correct?" Nottingham asked.

"Indeed, Cousin." Guy nodded.

"Did the steel arrive here on Wednesday?"

"Yes, Milord. Diego brought two shipments. We have ten crates taking up the whole back area of the armoury. Diego brought us enough to last until he returns in January." Robert said.

"Interesting. We've never done that before. Did he say why?"

"He says December is a busy month in Spain with the Yuletide season, Milord. Also, it's a bad month to travel by ship." Robert explained.

"I see. Was he paid appropriately for that?"

"Yes. Percival took care of it." Robert nodded.

"Of course." Nottingham sighed.

"He also left a gift for you. From Maximus Herrero to mark the occasion of your wedding, it was left with your Scribe." Robert said.

"Splendid. Now, what's the status on the search?"

"He hasn't been found as yet, Cousin. I considered it might be best to send a small detachment to Portsmouth in case he headed back there. But… now I'm not so sure that's the best plan." Guy said.

"Why is that?" Nottingham asked, pointedly.

"You may want to redirect that question to Luke and Drake once they return, Milord. The men should be arriving shortly." Robert advised.

"Why?"

"An encounter they had with someone at the local tavern yesterday afternoon, when they were there to canvas patrons with questions about the outlaw you're after." Robert replied.

"That tells me nothing, Robert. Whom did they speak to at the tavern?" Nottingham pressed.

"Apparently, you've met her once." Robert hinted.

"Her? What?"

"The story I got was that the raven haired lady from Derbyshire we met just over a sennight ago with questions about her missing niece… was the one whom Drake and Luke spoke with." Guy said. He sighed and shook his head.

"You're jesting!" the Sheriff scoffed.

"He is not. This was the report I got from Duke Farnsworth when the men returned last evening. Drake and Luke reported this to him." Robert added.

"What would she know of the malefactor we're after? Unless, she's in collusion with the bloke?"

"That's the thing about it, Milord. She's never actually seen the man." Robert said.

The Sheriff turned to his Cousin.

"Gis? Do I look normal to you?"

"Cousin?" Guy asked, bewildered by the question.

"Do I appear to be taking leave of my senses again? Because I'm having a hell of a time understanding what I've just been told!"

"It's not you, George. All of us, including Luke, Drake, and the Captain are bewildered by it. I haven't had the chance to speak to Drake, or Luke about this. I was kept quite busy." Guy said with his eyebrow quirked knowingly. "That's why I think Robert made a good point earlier. We need to hear this story from Drake and Luke. They can tell us precisely what she said." Guy suggested.

"After hearing this, I agree. I want to hear every detail." Nottingham said.

"Duke and Mordrid uncovered some strange occurrences, as well. Turns out the Rothwells have joined forces with a resistance that is forming." Guy said.

"A resistance. Resistance to what?" he asked, pointedly.

"You. They take issue with the validity of your upcoming nuptials — if it's still going ahead. The resistance is headed up by some Priest. Tuttle is his name." Guy said.

"Just what I need — a Priest with a chip on his shoulder!" Nottingham huffed. "What did you mean by: if it's still going ahead?"

"You've been unwell, Cousin. There's only a couple of days to prepare."

"Our wedding has been planned for some time, Gis. Everything is in order. The wedding is going ahead as planned." Nottingham said.

"Good news indeed, Cousin." Guy nodded.

"The best news all sodding year — besides the day we found Rhiannon, several months ago." the Sheriff said.

"I can think of one other thing, Milord." Robert said.

"What's that?" he asked.

"Your son." Robert smiled.

"Indeed. Hopefully that matter gets rectified soon, as well." Nottingham sighed.

"Of course." Robert nodded.

"I take it with the search going on, that my three archers haven't had the opportunity to meet with Samson Fingle about the crossbows?" the Sheriff asked.

"That is correct, Cousin. Plus, Luke has been working… double time." Guy sighed.

"What? What do you mean by that? Who put Luke in a position like that?" he demanded.

"Luke did, Cousin."

"Really? What's he been doing? Helping Floria get settled?" he sneered.

"I doubt he's had a moment to lay eyes on her. I met with the top men on Wednesday evening about the change in your condition. Besides family, they were the only ones kept apprised. Since you didn't know three of those men, they needed to be warned to steer clear of you." Guy began.

"Right. A wise decision, Cousin. Now, tell me what that lead in to the story has to do with Luke working like a dog?" Nottingham sighed.

"Luke came to see me later that night. Said he couldn't sleep, thinking about it. He insisted on filling in for me for a few hours each night to permit me to sleep. So, he not only covered for me every night for a few hours, he invited me to sleep in his rooms while he did so. Then he'd get a scarce few hours to sleep before he reported for his regular duties each day." Guy explained.

"Best thing I ever did was follow my gut and hire him. Why couldn't you go to your own chambers to sleep when Luke covered for you, Gis?"

"Because my rooms were full. Since you didn't know Lady Rhiannon, she was staying with Meridwyn. She was of a mind to return to her manor until things returned to normal, but her help was needed, and I convinced her to stay in my chambers." Guy said.

"Satan's teeth! When I think of all of the chaos that ensued because of… Prince sodding John, I could just about wring his scrawny little neck! My bride to be having to sleep elsewhere; my best Knight working like a dog; and you two, no doubt working together to cover for me so that I could retain my position — that bastard owes me for this! He had better agree to funding for the City Watch, and the use of espials." Nottingham growled.

"Indeed." Guy sneered.

"I wouldn't be surprised if he offered reparations for the harm he caused you, Milord. Royals often do that in cases like this to maintain appearances. It's a sort of… public relations stratagem." Robert added.

"Sure. Except, it's been six days since he shot me with the arrow. He is staying in Newerche until the wedding. Did he even bother to stop by to check on my welfare?" Nottingham asked.

"No." the men replied in unison.

"Craven!" Nottingham spat. "Is there anything else we need to cover before the men return?"

"No. Those are the important points." Guy said.

"Good. We'll reconvene when they return. I must go, before Rhiannon starts moving her things from your chambers back into mine all on her own, Gis. Her ribs are broken. She shouldn't be lifting anything." Nottingham said as he stood.

"Agreed. But, neither should you be, Cousin. You're injured, too. Let's go together and I'll take Lady Rhiannon's portmanteau back to your chambers." Guy suggested.

"You can come so you can see to your wife. I've been coddled enough to last a lifetime already, Gis." he said. Then he looked to Robert. "You stay here to greet the men when they return. I want the top men, plus Drake and Adam to assemble right here. Summon myself and Guy when they have arrived."

"Of course, Milord." Robert agreed.

"My thanks to both of you for managing in my stead, by the way." Nottingham said.

"Of course." Robert nodded.

"It was precarious for awhile there, but I'm glad your back, Cousin." Guy said.

The Sheriff and his Lieutenant turned and left the meeting chamber together. Their black leather surcoats were waving behind them as they moved, while their boots clicked in unison along the floor.

Rhiannon had only been with Meridwyn for about ten minutes. Both of them were drinking tea when their men came through the door. She was a little surprised, and hadn't even taken a moment to explain to Meridwyn that her betrothed appeared to be back to normal now, mostly because she was still wondering if he'd stay like this?

"Oh!" Meridwyn exclaimed as she jolted and stood from her chair, looking at the men, curiously. Her first concern was the state of her husband's face, but she knew now wasn't the time to inquire about it.

"Right. As you can see, your servant is here. I suppose you're wondering who I am and why we're here in your Lieutenant's quarters?" Meridwyn sighed and looked downcast.

"Meridwyn — " Guy was interrupted.

Nottingham walked slowly toward her, as Meridwyn began to instinctively back away. He sighed as he stopped and looked into her eyes.

"I know who you are, Lady Meridwyn. You're my sister in law." Nottingham said.

"What?" Meridwyn asked, slowly. She was completely caught off guard. She looked to all of them.

"You've been here long enough to say something, Rhi? Or… did you even know?"

"Yes. I knew." Rhiannon muttered.

"Wh… when did this happen?" Meridwyn stammered.

"Not that long ago. I… I'm still having trouble believing it." Rhiannon said as she sipped of her wheatgrass tea.

"Well, isn't this confounding, Gis?" the Sheriff said. "What exactly was I like these last four days? Your wife is afraid of me." he sighed.

"Remember how things were three years ago, Cousin? You had a number of pressing matters you were dealing with at the time. Chasing after Locksley and his rabble, trying to gain support from the Barons, pursuing… another lady entirely and the power that you thought might come with it? Remember you were rather impatient, and quite… gruff at times? Unpredictable? That's the man we saw these last four days." Guy said with a frown.

"Right. I guess a lot has changed since then." Nottingham muttered.

"To put it mildly." Meridwyn nodded.

"Tell me now, Gis: who was I in direct contact with since Wednesday?"

"Myself, Lady Rhiannon, Lady Isabelle a couple of times, Thomas, of course, and Mortianna once. Oh, and Luke, as I mentioned to you earlier." Guy said.

"How was I with Luke?"

"Well, the first night he covered for me, you stepped out to ask him to summon for the Captain. He made the mistake of mentioning Duke Farnsworth by name, to which… you… "

"What happened, Gis. I need to know." Nottingham pressed.

"You grabbed him by his collar and demanded to speak to… Nic. You asked for Nic… a lot. None of us could reveal that truth to you." Guy said and looked downcast.

"So, I wasn't very… congenial with him. Curses! Anything else?"

"Just that you kept calling him "Lyle"." Guy said.

"Except for you, he couldn't get any of our names straight, truthfully. I was either "Emma" or "Anna", and for some reason, Isabelle was referred to as "Eleanor"." Rhiannon said to Guy.

"Did I… harm anyone?" the Sheriff asked.

"No. Well, except for when you thought I was the mousey guard — as you dubbed me, and knocked me out with your fist." Guy sighed.

"Oh, my God! That's how you got like that, Guy?" Meridwyn exclaimed.

"He didn't know me, my dear. I was playing the role of sentry. In fairness, if my sentry asked the probing questions I was asking him, I'd be tempted to do the same. Especially, three years ago." Guy explained.

"I didn't see you during that time, Milord. I stayed hidden in these rooms. The only other thing that comes to mind, back to the question of harm is, you threatened Rhiannon with… " Meridwyn began, but let the words trail off.

"Threatened my lady with what, exactly?" he pressed.

"Tongue snippers." Rhiannon said.

"WHAT?"

"It was within moments of you waking up, in the altered state you were in. Lady Rhiannon and I were with you then. It was afternoon, and we had been trying to wake you. You knew me, of course; but, you didn't know her. She was speaking to you as she normally would, and you were — " Guy was interrupted.

"Understandably, confused and annoyed by it." Rhiannon shrugged.

"I threatened you with my tongue snippers? Satan's teeth!" Nottingham exclaimed, shaking his head.

"It doesn't matter now, Milord. It's over now. Isn't it?" Meridwyn asked.

"Good question, Meridwyn. That's what I'm wondering." Rhiannon said.

"It has to be! Why wouldn't it be?" Nottingham asked.

"You've been fine since Robert and I found you two out back." Guy added.

"Even when you men had your meeting with Robert just moments ago?" Rhiannon asked.

"Yes. We discussed similar topics to what we'd spoken about on Monday and Tuesday. He's in the current time frame. His mind is sound." Guy answered.

"I'm right here, Gis!" Nottingham sighed.

"Of course, Cousin."

"Does this mean… the wedding is back on?" Meridwyn asked.

"Are you telling me it was called off?" the Sheriff asked, as he looked to all three of their faces.

"Not… yet." Rhiannon said.

"Yet?"

"We were giving it until tonight, Cousin. We made the decision that if things didn't change by tonight it would have to be called off. There was a greater threat in question, and, if you stayed like that, there was no other choice. Surely, you'd agree?" Guy pointed out.

"Yes. I suppose that seemed appropriate." he said, although, he felt a slight betrayal upon hearing it spelled out for him like that.

"It never got that far, George. Fortunes shined upon us, and you came back." Rhiannon smiled.

"I suppose that's a relief." he muttered. "So, now what? Are you… ready to return with me, my lady?" he asked.

"I haven't really unpacked. It didn't matter to me if my gowns were wrinkled. I was playing the part of a servant, anyway. There's just my portmanteau, and a blanket." Rhiannon said.

"Yes, I thought I recognized the blanket on the sofa." he said as he pointed to it.

"And, don't forget your soap and hair rinse, Rhiannon. They're in the bath chamber. I will put them in your portmanteau for you." Meridwyn said as she headed in that direction.

A short time later, the Sheriff and Lady Rhiannon entered into the private chambers. She was content and nervous all at once. She wasn't going to be able to rest easy until the next day. If he woke up in the current time the following morning, then she would be able to exhale a sigh of relief that moment in time was behind them.

She took the blanket from him, and went to the sofa in the den as the Sheriff took her portmanteau into the bedchamber. When he returned he was surprised to see her laying on her side on the sofa, covered with the blanket.

"My lady? Are you… alright? Is there pain?"

"It's eased up now. It was hurting after this morning, but I took a drop of opium. I'm fine now." she said, absently.

"It's a little early in the evening for sleep, isn't it? It's just after dusk now."

"Speak for yourself, George. It's been a busy day for me."

"I don't know how you're not furious with me." he muttered as he took a seat in a chair across from her.

"My love, I was… tired. I am still tired. I was nervous, frustrated, impatient, annoyed at times. I wanted to slap you a couple of times — to try to slap sense into you, but, I was never angry with you." Rhiannon said as she rested her elbow on the pillow and leaned her head into her hand.

"But you were prepared to call off our wedding?" he asked, pointedly.

"It wasn't my wish, George. But, I spoke about it with Sir Guy last night. He raised some very good points. If anyone else besides the select few of us who knew what was going on saw you, there would be serious questions about your fitness to retain your position." she explained.

"I understand that, but… what about you? Where did you truly stand?" Nottingham asked, slightly hesitant to hear the answer.

"Right by your side, as always. I was not giving up on you. If the wedding got called off, I knew it was only temporary." Rhiannon said, firmly.

"Thank you, my angel." he smiled. "Now, tell me why you're so tired?"

"I don't know if I should." she muttered as she looked to the floor.

"Rhiannon. Just tell me."

"Well, this morning you had a number of chores for me." she hinted.

His eyebrow shot north as he looked at her, questioningly.

"I mopped the floor of the bath chamber, straightened the linens on the bed, and dusted every surface in the bedchamber." she sighed.

"What?" he asked, incredulously.

Rhiannon nodded.

"Curses! Forgive me, my angel. I can't believe what you endured, but you were determined to see me through to the other side of all of that cursed nonsense. I shall never forget."

"I know, sugar. As I said, I was playing a part. We couldn't force you to remember everything that brought you to the here and now. You had to come to that place on your own." Rhiannon said.

"I've said it before, and I'll say it again. You are the greatest gift to me, my angel." Nottingham said, softly, as he arose from his chair and walked toward her.

"There's the George I know. Don't be too soft, though." she smiled as she sat up.

He bent down before her, leaned in and kissed her lips softly. He pulled her in close to him and held her as he tasted her lips and her tongue with his.

"George." she whispered.

They broke the kiss and he held her face in her hands, looking deeply into her eyes.

"I never want to see you toiling away like that in front of me again… even though I don't remember it." he whispered as he brought her left hand to his lips and kissed it. He looked at her ring finger and narrowed his eyes, suspiciously.

"I knew I forgot something." Rhiannon muttered.

"Rhiannon? What happened to the betrothal ring I gave to you? My mother's ring?" he asked.

"I asked Meridwyn to tuck it in a safe place on Wednesday, George. I was wearing it when you awakened that day, and luckily, you didn't notice it. Before I came back here to see you next, I knew I had to do something with it to keep it safe. I was a stranger to you. If you'd seen that ring on my finger there would have been serious consequences." Rhiannon explained with a knowing look.

"You're right, my angel." he sighed. "If I didn't know you, I'd accuse you of stealing it. You're sure she's kept it in a safe place?"

"Yes, my love." Rhiannon said.

Just then there was a knock at the door. He went to open it, then was informed by his sentry that the top men were assembled in the Council Quarters and waiting to meet with him.

"You're needed again… already?" Rhiannon asked.

"Yes. Just a quick meeting with my Captain and a few of the others. I'll stop by Guy's chambers on my way back to retrieve your betrothal ring, my lady. You rest."

"Thank you, my love." she smiled as he bent down and kissed her forehead.

Then, he turned and took leave of her.

Everyone was assembled in the Council Quarters when the Sheriff arrived a short time later. Guy was conferring with Robert and Duke Farnsworth by the table. His top three men, as well as Drake and Adam were gathered by the window, further away from the area where the other three were huddled.

The Sheriff noticed Luke with the men, and Luke made eye contact briefly. Luke's expression was unreadable. Serious looking. Luke stiffened, then looked downcast. From the moment he looked into the Sheriff's eyes for that brief second, he became somewhat disconnected. He wasn't even responding to his comrades anymore, who were speaking amongst themselves during this brief moment.

Nottingham was keenly aware of the change in demeanour of his favourite Knight. He sighed and headed to the table, greeting Guy, Robert, and his Captain. Then he called the meeting to order and they all took their seats at the table. The Sheriff sat at the head of the table, with Gisborne to his right, Duke Farnsworth on his left, and Robert sat to the right of Gisborne.

"Uh… what happened to your face, Sir Guy? Are you… alright?" Mordrid asked.

"No kidding." Adam agreed.

"It's fine. It was just… a fall. Nothing to worry about." Guy said, hurriedly.

"Alright, men. Let's begin. A couple of you aren't aware of the reason for… my absence these last few days. Some of you are, and some are more keenly aware than others." Nottingham began.

Luke sighed and stared at the table in front of him.

Nottingham noticed it, but continued, notwithstanding.

"I'll be brief with the explanation for that, as we have much to cover. I was injured while hunting last week. It caused… a few problems." he began.

"I'll say." Luke muttered.

Both Mordrid and Drake gave a stern look to Luke, wondering why he was acting so oddly.

"What's that, Luke?" Nottingham asked.

"Nothing, Milord." Luke said, while continuing to avoid eye contact.

The Sheriff looked to Guy, who responded to him by shrugging. Then he turned to his Captain, who shook his head in confusion while side eyeing Luke.

"That's all behind us now — " the Sheriff was interrupted.

"Is it?" Luke asked abruptly, still looking at the table.

"Yes, Luke. I'm back now." he said.

"Yey." Luke muttered.

Nottingham's eyebrow shot north, curiously. Then he shook his head, slowly.

"Jesus, Luke!" Adam whispered.

"The hell is wrong with him?" Drake muttered to Mordrid.

Mordrid just shook his head and shrugged.

Nottingham sighed.

"Men? If we could have your full attention now, that would be grand." Robert announced, in an attempt to distract from the uncomfortable exchange, as well as get them to focus.

"Thank you, Robert." Nottingham said. He looked around the table to all of them. "Now, I received a briefing earlier from my Advisor and my Lieutenant regarding the search efforts you've been involved in. I understand the woman from Derbyshire who met with Gisborne and I late on the eve of… Samhain — of all nights, was seen by a few of you."

"That is correct, Milord Sheriff." Drake said.

"Now, start from the beginning. Who can tell me more about the encounters with her? Leave out no details." he urged them.

"Drake and I first encountered her on Tuesday afternoon, Milord Sheriff. We were going door to door to canvas people, asking if anyone had seen him." Adam began.

"There was one cottage we hadn't visited. Last I knew, it was owned by an older man. We knocked, and she answered our call." Drake said.

"Ah. So, she found a place to stay while she searches for her… niece." the Sheriff surmised.

"More than that, Milord. Turns out, the older bloke was her uncle. He died recently and bequeathed to her his entire estate." Adam said. He turned to Drake. "What was it she said?"

"The home, the property, all moveable goods, and his horse. She said she was the sole surviving heir." Drake added.

"Hmm. How convenient. And, how do we know she didn't kill the previous homeowner?" Nottingham asked.

"Well, we don't. I suppose, Milord, but… I had the impression she was being genuine." Drake shrugged.

"Of course, because she'd taken a shine to you, I imagine." Nottingham scoffed.

"Milord?" Drake asked.

"I don't know how you never notice this about some of the ladies we encounter at the portcullis, Drake." Adam sighed.

Mordrid and Ancel began to quietly chuckle. Luke just smirked as he stared at his hands, which were clasped on the table.

"I took her at her word, as you appeared to, Adam. As far as I knew, there was nothing about her we were given any notice about. I was surprised, but her story seemed plausible to me." Drake said.

"This can easily be confirmed, Milord." Robert interrupted. "There would be documentation about the passing of the previous landowner, and we could find out whom he bequeathed his estate to."

"Yes. Look into that for me, Robert." the Sheriff instructed.

"Of course, Milord." Robert nodded.

"Right. So, you explained your reason for knocking. What did she have to say?" he asked the men.

"We described the man we were looking for. She said she hadn't seen him, but would remember him if she had." Drake said.

"She invited us in for tea. We declined. She said she would be on the lookout for him, and that was the end of it." Adam added.

"I see. And, it was — until yesterday, correct?" the Sheriff asked.

"Yes, Milord. Yesterday afternoon, Luke and I went into the local tavern to question the barman , and any patrons about whether they'd seen the bloke. We also spoke to Slayer, the security guy at the door, on our way out." Drake said.

"And?" Nottingham asked.

"The barman and aptly named guard at the door hadn't seen him. We got an… interesting report otherwise from one of the patrons." Luke said, still looking at the table. He began to fidget in his seat, and started to rub his arms, oddly.

Luke's curious behaviour did not go unnoticed by the Sheriff. It reminded him of another time, long ago. He shook his head slowly, trying to put it out of his mind.

"Tell me about it." Nottingham pressed.

"It was her, Milord. She heard us asking the barman. The barman said he hadn't seen him, then he walked away from us." Drake began.

"She spoke. Told us he had been there." Luke said, still avoiding eye contact with the Sheriff.

The men were noticing Luke's odd behaviour, too. He wasn't looking at anyone when he spoke, and he seemed quite fidgety to them.

"Yet, she said she hadn't seen him." Drake shrugged.

"What in the devil?" Mordrid asked.

"Well, that's a new one. Can't wait to hear the explanation for that!" Ancel scoffed.

"The lads told me about it. It's a good one. Pure lunacy if you ask me, though." Adam added.

"If you two could elaborate — hopefully, a little better than how it was relayed to me, it would be useful, men." Duke Farnsworth prompted them.

"She said he'd been there and that we had just missed him." Luke muttered, still looking at the table.

"So, Luke commented that the tavern was an interesting place for a lady to be who wasn't a courtesan. Then, he asked her if she was… a courtesan." Drake began.

"She scoffed at that. Said she had better things to do with her time. So, I asked what she was doing there." Luke said, looking into the eyes of the Sheriff briefly, then he looked back down to the table.

"And?" Nottingham asked.

"She said she was following her nose." Drake said.

"What?" Nottingham asked, shaking his head.

Mordrid and Ancel couldn't conceal their chuckles this time.

"It gets better!" Adam chimed in.

"I still don't understand this." Duke Farnsworth sighed, shaking his head.

"Do continue." Nottingham pressed them.

"I asked her what she meant by that comment. She said she could smell him." Luke said.

"From a mile away!" Drake added. "And, that's when she said that ordinary people wouldn't notice such a thing, but she could. She said that he smelled of… what was it again, Luke?" Drake asked his mate.

"Brine and overly fermented wine. The scent of arrogance and fear, among other unmentionable character traits. Those were her words. Verbatim." Luke said.

"Ah, ha, ha! Seriously?" Mordrid asked, unable to contain his laughter.

"Hmm. Sounds rather witchy to me." Ancel postulated.

Nottingham gave Ancel a knowing smirk.

"Indeed. That's what we said." Drake added. "She said she wouldn't go that far, but that she has certain abilities that are misunderstood. So, Luke asked what she was planning to do if she saw him."

"I see. What was her answer?" the Sheriff asked.

"She said she would have reported it to us straightway because we'd be more fit to handle him, and she has enough to contend with." Luke said.

"Interesting. What does she have to contend with?" the Sheriff asked.

"I asked her that. She said that is something she wishes to speak to you about. Said it was important she meet with you, and what she has to share with you would greatly interest you." Luke said, hoping this meeting would be over soon. He began to fidget in his seat again.

"We told her we would try to arrange that. Then, Luke said something to the effect of: if we were to believe her, did she think he had left the vicinity." Drake continued.

"I can just imagine." Mordrid smirked.

"Yes? Continue." Nottingham encouraged.

"She said he was still around. Close by. Said he was getting cagey while trying to stay hidden. That he has a plan, but he's becoming impatient. I asked directly how she knew those things. She said she could smell him, and she can also see images and pick up on emotions. Told us she was confident we'd find him." Luke said, still keeping his eyes on the table.

"So… after that, did she take off on a flying broom?" Ancel chuckled.

"No doubt. Sounds like there's a new witch in town." Mordrid said.

"If she helps us find the stumpy bloke, I don't give a flying fig what she is right now, frankly." Nottingham said.

"Indeed, Cousin. Although, that's one of the strangest stories I've ever heard." Guy said.

"You think?" Robert agreed.

"I concur. I thought the eve of Ancel's interrogation that turned into a hiring interview was up there with the most unique story ever." Duke Farnsworth said. "Except, Ancel made perfect sense the more he spoke. This one just gets more confusing as it goes further along." he sighed, shaking his head.

"Because she was trying to explain things that none of us can begin to understand." Luke said, turning to his right to address the Captain. Then he looked to the Sheriff. "Perhaps the best person to gauge her intentions is absent from this meeting?" he hinted, then looked back to the table.

"Whom would that be, Luke?" Nottingham asked.

"You're very astute, Milord Sheriff. Which… confounded me the last few days… " he muttered, still looking to the table.

The Sheriff narrowed his eyes, wondering what Luke was driving at.

Drake, Adam, Mordrid and Ancel looked at one another in confusion, shifting in their seats, all wondering the same thing: what was bothering Luke?

Luke regained composure and looked back into Nottingham's eyes.

"Isn't it obvious? She is absent because she is never a part of our meetings, but… Mortianna is the one I speak of. She would be able to to sift out the truth from the… charming tale she told Drake and I about."

"You got that right, mate. There is a certain charm about her." Drake muttered.

"You might be right, Luke. Although, I've never involved Mortianna directly when I'm questioning a person of interest." Nottingham mused, while stroking his chin.

"You sure that's only charm she used on you two?" Ancel asked.

"Ha! I'll say! Sounds more like a spell. But… why?" Mordrid asked.

"I can't see her being in collusion with potato bloke, Cousin. Can you? Honestly?" Guy asked.

"You're right. I get the impression she wouldn't have the patience for him." the Sheriff nodded with a sardonic grin.

"I can tell you that in the time I was associated with him, there were never any dealings with a woman, or anyone, for that matter. No missives were ever sent to him, from Derbyshire, or anywhere. And, the way your men have described her, Milord… I'd remember her." Ancel added.

"Is it possible she might have met up with him since she arrived here, though?" the Sheriff asked.

"Anything is possible, Milord. I don't rule anything out until evidence tells me otherwise." Ancel said.

"Fair point." Guy said.

"Very well. Perhaps I should pay a visit to this lady's… cottage?" Nottingham mused.

"Are you… fit to do that, Milord?" Luke asked, pointedly.

"Luke, what the hell is up your arse?" Drake muttered.

"I am, Luke. And, if I decide to do so, you're accompanying me." Nottingham smirked.

"But… I haven't been to her cottage, Milord." Luke argued, weakly.

"Your comrades have. They are capable of pointing us in the direction of her home, are they not, Luke?"

"Yes. Forgive me. I wouldn't want to… waste your time with my nonsensical arguments." Luke muttered as he stared at the table in front of him.

The Sheriff's eyes widened in response. Luke had never once acted this way toward him!

Guy sighed, shaking his head, also stunned by Luke's general demeanour. Guy warned Luke late Wednesday night not to take anything personally that the Sheriff might say to him. It was becoming increasingly apparent to Guy that Luke was still grappling with that.

"Jesus, Luke! What the bleeding hell is wrong with you?" Adam asked, abruptly, unable to keep his voice lowered.

"He's been acting queerly for a few days now, truth be told." Drake added quietly.

"Excuse me? Say that again, Luke." Nottingham demanded.

"It is nothing, Milord. I… misspoke." Luke muttered.

"You certainly did, lad! I don't know what's got into you, but keep a lid on it, won't you?" Duke Farnsworth admonished.

"Yes, Captain. You're right." Luke sighed.

"That settles it. Tomorrow we are paying a visit to the mysterious raven haired lady, Luke." Nottingham stated, firmly.

"As you wish, Milord." Luke said.

"Right. Moving on. I was also informed that there was some sort of alliance forming between the raging Rothwell clan, and a group headed up by a Priest." Nottingham said, addressing his Captain and Mordrid.

"Oh. Right. I get it. This must be what has our friend, Luke here on edge." Adam muttered, nodding to his mate.

Nottingham opened his mouth to speak, but wasn't quick enough.

"I can handle the Rothwell family." Luke said, evenly.

"Right. Mild mannered, agreeable Luke." Drake chuckled, teasingly.

"Agreeable? Have you met him recently?" Mordrid added with a quirk of his brow.

"You'd be surprised." Luke said, firmly.

"Funny. You uttered those same words to Ancel and I a sennight ago at the tavern, when no one could hold you back from racing after Rothwell when he was taking Flower out of there. What are you hiding from us, Luke?" Drake asked.

"Taking? I believe the word you were looking for is dragging." Luke said in a huff.

"Whatever! What are you hiding?" Drake repeated.

"Again: you'd be surprised." Luke muttered.

"How the hell did our meeting turn into the Luke Show?" Adam asked, glancing at the rest gathered, shaking his head.

The Sheriff sighed and leaned back in his chair, folding his arms, taking in the banter before him, mildly amused and irritated all at once.

Guy looked down and smirked, though still shaking his head in disbelief about the change in Luke.

The Captain was rather aghast, and was rendered speechless.

Robert was beginning to wonder if this was typical of these meetings, or out of the ordinary?

"Perhaps you ought to switch places with Milord Sheriff? Or, should we give you a platform, Luke?" Adam continued with a quirk of his brow.

"You men are being ridiculous, and I'm not being funny about it." Luke sulked, folding his arms and shifting in his chair.

"Men — " Robert began, but was interrupted.

"You've had a chip on your shoulder for a few days now, mate. We've all noticed it." Drake said.

"Define all." Luke snapped back at him.

"All of us. Even Emory and Castor inquired if all was well with you." Adam said.

"It's fine. All I said was that I can handle the Rothwells." Luke muttered.

The Sheriff cleared his throat.

"Right. Moving on! It's time we allow cooler heads to prevail." the Sheriff said, in an attempt to get them to refocus. Next, he addressed his Captain, and one of his top men. "Now, Duke and Mordrid, tell me more about this alliance thing you uncovered."

"Mordrid and I were at the Busby Farm, questioning Matheus and Constancia about any further possible sightings of the escaped prisoner." Duke Farnsworth began.

"When?" he asked.

"On Tuesday, Milord Sheriff. Probably around the same time that Drake and Adam stumbled across the raven haired lady's new abode." Mordrid added.

"I see. Continue."

"Matheus said they hadn't seen him again, but that's when he told us about rumours of the Rothwells finding out about Father Tuttle's mission." Mordrid said.

"Mission, huh? How interesting. Sounds like a man with a plan to me." Nottingham sneered.

"Ha! A Priest! As if he could do anything!" Adam scoffed.

"Never underestimate men of the cloth, Adam." Robert said. "Research how the Crusades started, for one." Robert added.

"Some of them are unstoppable once they taste the power given to them." Duke Farnsworth agreed.

"Does Matheus have knowledge of any plans in the works by this Father Tuttle, his followers, and the Rothwells?" the Sheriff asked.

"We asked him that, Milord. He said he didn't know of any scheme they were involved in." the Captain said.

"But, we asked him to alert us if he heard anything, and he said he would, Milord." Mordrid nodded.

"Good. This is why we need enhancements… like espials, and enforcers in the city to help us run things smoothly." Nottingham said.

"Again, it all boils down to who you could trust to carry out those tasks." Duke Farnsworth said.

"We've some time to work out the semantics. I still need to present the idea to… Prince John." Nottingham sneered.

"I'm sure he'll oblige." Luke said, quietly.

Mordrid and Ancel looked at Luke with expressions of surprise. As far as they knew, only a few who were present knew that it was the Prince who shot the Sheriff. Was Luke about to reveal this to Drake and Adam now?

"Why is that, Luke? How could you know how the Prince would respond?" Drake asked, curiously.

"Right? How is he in thick with the Prince, Drake?" Adam asked his mate.

"Just a feeling." Luke shrugged.

"Indeed. Let us hope your feeling is right about that, Luke." the Sheriff agreed, glad to be moving on from that topic… or, so he thought.

"He's got a feeling, alright." Mordrid whispered to Ancel. "A feeling that the Prince is a lousy archer." he chortled.

Ancel grinned and looked downcast.

"Why would you say he was a lousy archer, Mordrid?" Luke asked, pointedly. Then he abruptly stood at the table, surprising everyone as he leaned across to him, his palms firmly planted on the table, and fixing his blue green eyes on Mordrid's as he continued. "A lousy archer because he took the shot in the first place? Or, a lousy archer because he didn't hit centre mass?"

Guy, Robert, and Duke Farnsworth all gasped.

The Sheriff was too stunned by Luke's behaviour to react beyond staring at him with an expression of shock on his face.

"The feck is the matter with you, mate?" Mordrid asked quietly, slowly shaking his head while fixing his blue eyes on Luke's.

"Is he a lousy archer because he missed centre mass… on Milord Sheriff? You saying he shouldn't have missed?" Luke repeated, bringing the decibel range of his voice up a notch or two.

"Luke, take a seat and calm down, lad." Nottingham said quietly, yet firmly.

"Holy hell, Drake! Is he saying… the Prince shot the Sheriff?!" Adam exclaimed quietly to his friend.

The Sheriff sighed.

Drake shot him a look to warn him to keep his mouth shut.

"No, Luke. You misinterpreted what I quietly spoke of in a side comment to Ancel." Mordrid said.

"Did I?" Luke asked, curtly, as he finally took his seat again.

"You know those fear mongering comments Alfred likes to make about… a couple of former Knights, Luke? When he's… trying to warn us of… consequences?" Mordrid asked.

The Sheriff, Guy, Robert and Duke Farnsworth looked at each other with confusion upon their faces as they had no idea what Mordrid was talking about; but the rest of them knew exactly what Mordrid was referring to.

"Yes. What does that have to do with anything?" Luke asked, hurriedly.

"Are you aiming to do something to prove Alfred right? For God's sake, man. Ease up!" Mordrid exclaimed.

Luke sighed.

"Great! Now that we've confirmed that… it was the Prince who shot me, and no one here wishes me dead, can we kindly move along?" Nottingham retorted.

Everyone quickly nodded in agreement, and verbalized their eagerness to proceed. All except for Luke, who sat quietly, and seemed disconnected again as he kept shifting positions in his chair, and rubbing his arms again. The Sheriff took notice.

"Good. And you, Luke?" he asked.

"What's that, Milord Sheriff? Forgive me. I… missed the question." Luke said.

"Luke?" he asked.

"Yes, Milord?" Luke muttered, staring at his wringing hands on the table before him.

"Look at me." Nottingham commanded him.

The room became so deadly quiet as everyone stared intently at the exchange between the Sheriff and his favourite Knight, that one could have heard a pin drop to the floor.

Luke sighed and raised his head. He turned to his right to look upon the Sheriff. Then, he quickly looked back to his wringing hands on the table.

"No, Luke. Not for only one second. Look at me for at least a count of three." Nottingham directed.

"You can't be serious, Milord?" Luke sighed.

"I'm dead serious. Do it. Now!" Nottingham ordered, sharply.

Luke rolled his eyes and sighed, then looked to the Sheriff once more, this time holding his gaze. Then he averted his gaze after the count of three but kept facing the Sheriff.

The Sheriff looked into his eyes. They were glassy and bloodshot. The pupils were quite small despite the dim lighting of the few candles on the table and the torches on the walls. Not all of the torches were lit, but it was enough for the Sheriff to see that something wasn't right about Luke. He also had dark circles under his eyes, he was twitchy, and obviously irritable. This had to be more than whatever he said to Luke when he wasn't himself. Nottingham knew exactly what the problem was. He knew it in his gut. He took in a breath then sighed.

"Thank you, Luke." he said, simply.

"Really? That's it? After all of that, "Thank you, Luke" is all you have to say?" Luke remarked, incredulously. He shook his head and sighed.

"Sweet Mother Mary, here we go again!" Drake sighed.

"Yep. Right back to the Luke Show." Adam muttered.

"That is all I have to say right now, Luke." a beat. "Are you done?" Nottingham asked, sternly.

"Yes, Milord." Luke sighed, as he began to fidget uncomfortably.

"Right. Is there any other points of mention I need to know of right now?" Nottingham asked as he looked at each of them gathered at the table.

"From my perspective, we've covered everything I wanted you to know of, Milord." Duke Farnsworth said.

Each of the men gathered shook their heads, indicating there was nothing further of significance to discuss.

"Good. The meeting is adjourned. You are all dismissed." Nottingham said.

The men started to arise from their seats. Luke exhaled a sigh and stood from his seat to join them.

"Not you, Luke." Nottingham said.

Luke shook his head and sat back down, staring down at the table once more.

As the Captain and Robert ushered the men out of the room, the Sheriff nodded to Guy and indicated the door to him. Both of them went and stood by the door, away from Luke, to speak privately.

"Have you noticed anything strange about Luke in the last couple of days?" Nottingham asked in a whisper.

"Just that he looks a bit tired, even though he seems quite alert — oddly." Guy said softly. "It also appears he is bothered by something you said to him when you were… not yourself."

"It's more than that, Gis. He's been taking something to keep him awake — probably started when he began covering for you while I was away from duty." Nottingham whispered.

"No! That can't be right?" Guy whispered, incredulously.

"It in his eyes, his behaviour. He's Irritable. Cannot sit still." Nottingham said.

"Hmm. Good luck with that, Cousin." Guy whispered.

"Indeed. Rhiannon left her betrothal ring in your quarters with your wife. Could you set it aside for me? I'll come by after this to retrieve it for her. I'm… not sure how long this will take when I… confront him." Nottingham said quietly, nodding behind him where Luke sat, waiting.

"Of course, Cousin. Take your time. Don't be too hard on him. If your guess is right, he was only doing it to… help." Guy whispered.

The Sheriff nodded then Guy took leave of him, closing the door.

Nottingham exhaled a deep sigh after the door was shut. He stood a moment, looking toward the table, still deciding how he would tackle this problem. He never thought he'd ever need to address such a problem, especially with Luke. He walked toward the table and took a seat directly across from him. Luke jolted a bit when the Sheriff pulled out the chair to sit in it.

"When was the last time you slept, Luke?" the Sheriff asked.

"Milord?"

"You didn't sleep last night, did you?" he pressed.

"No, Milord. Not well." Luke muttered.

"What about the night before?"

"Hmm. I don't know. Maybe a couple of hours? What difference does is make?" a beat. "Who cares?"

"I care, Luke."

"Really?" Luke scoffed.

"The fact that you had to ask that tells me everything, lad." Nottingham sighed.

"Really? Like what?"

"That you're not… yourself."

"Ha! Isn't that ironic, because neither were you!" Luke exclaimed, then added, "You did that to Sir Guy's face, didn't you? How… professional of you." he scoffed.

"Luke?"

"Yes, Milord." Luke muttered as he focused on his wringing hands on the table.

"Look at me, for the love of Zeus!" he commanded.

Luke looked up and into the Sheriff's eyes. He sighed and starting darting his blue green eyes around the room after a couple of seconds of eye contact.

"God damn it, Luke! You can't even control it at this point, can you?" Nottingham exclaimed, horrified at the change in his best Knight.

"I… don't understand what you mean?"

"Bollocks, you don't! Now, you tell me right now, lad. What the fuck have you been taking to keep yourself alert?!" the Sheriff demanded.

"Milord?" Luke asked. He swallowed, dryly. He was desperate for a drink of water.

"I am aware that you were working beyond your usual hours of duty, covering for my cousin for a time for the last three nights. You should have naturally had sufficient sleep because of the long hours. Instead, you're as jumpy as a new bride!" a beat. "I'm no fool, Luke. I was your age once, too. Many before you have been known to toy with certain plants and herbs as a performance enhancer… or, so they thought. You cannot fool me, because I've seen this rubbish before in my time!" he warned, sharply.

"I'm fine, Milord. There's really no need to — "

"Have you looked at your own reflection in a mirror lately?"

"Ha! Who has time for that? Bloody time waster." Luke scoffed.

"Right. Stay right there, lad. Try to sit still for five seconds, alright?" Nottingham sighed.

"Sure." Luke muttered.

Nottingham stood abruptly from the table and went to the door. He stepped outside of the meeting room for a moment.

Guy and the Captain were nearby with the men who had just left the room. Luke's mates looked to the Sheriff with concerned expressions upon their faces. They knew there was something odd about their friend's behaviour, but whatever it stemmed from was kept secret from them.

Guy excused himself from them and walked toward his cousin.

"Gis, he is on something. I know it! You know we've seen this rubbish before, many years ago." Nottingham said with a knowing quirk of his brow.

"Luckily, a brief moment in time, but I haven't forgotten it, Cousin." Guy nodded.

"We nearly lost Nic back then because of some strange stimulant he was ingesting. Luckily, we got through to him and got another seventeen years out of him before sodding Locksley ended him. I must get through to Luke!"

"Of course, George. How can I help?"

"I want Thomas and Mortianna to meet us in Luke's chambers. Give me about twenty minutes more with him. You will bring them to Luke's quarters then. Got it?"

"It will be done." Guy nodded.

"You slept in his chambers the last three nights. Did you notice anything strange laying about in there? Some curious vials, potions, powders, or plants?" he asked.

"There is a plant, actually. It's kind of exotic looking. Never seen anything like it. With a bunch of long oval shaped leaves that looked like mice had been gnawing at them." Guy shrugged.

"Not rodents, Gis. It was Luke." Nottingham sighed. Then he turned and went back into the Council Quarters.

"Trying to find a space for me in your dungeon, Milord?" Luke asked, facetiously.

"I know that's not you speaking to me, lad. It's whatever cursed drug you're taking! Come. Get up! We're going to take a little walk." Nottingham directed.

"The walk that leads to nowhere?" Luke asked, shaking his head in resignation.

"Just get over here and walk with me. Pay no heed to anyone you see in the corridor. Your mates are concerned about you, lad; and frankly, so am I." the Sheriff said with a quirk of his brow.

"Very well." Luke muttered, yet obeyed his instructions, notwithstanding.

They walked together out of the meeting chamber. Some of the men had already went on their way, except for Drake and Adam, who stayed nearby. The Sheriff led Luke toward the front entrance. Luke kept wondering what the Sheriff was planning. Was he about to lose his position in the Black Knights?

Rhiannon was at the window looking down onto the courtyard just then, when she thought she recognized her betrothed walking purposefully across it, with someone else beside him. She squinted her eyes to see better, and finally the lit torches along their path gave way to a better view, and she recognized Luke with him. They seemed to be headed to the stables. Where would they be going? She wondered.

Just then, there was a knock at the door. She shook her head and shrugged, then went to open it. She was a little surprised to see Sir Guy standing there.

"Sir Guy. I thought you men were having a meeting?"

"Oh, we were." a beat. "What a calamity that was!" he scoffed. "Forgive me for troubling you, but I need to get Mortianna. It's faster if I go through the den here than using the alternate entrance to her lair." Guy quickly explained.

"Is something the matter with George, Sir Guy?" Rhiannon asked.

"No, Lady Rhiannon. He is fine. But, something is wrong — with someone else. I need Mortianna, and Thomas, as well."

"Very well. Do come in." Rhiannon said as she held the door for him.

He stepped into the den, shook his head and headed toward the entrance to Mortianna's lair.

"Sir Guy? What's going on? Can I help at all?"

He stopped and turned to face her. He paused a moment before responding.

"There's something wrong with Luke, Milady. George has a good idea what it is because we've seen this before; but, we need help. The lad has got himself in a mess of a situation. He's not himself. At all. He was very disruptive during the meeting, and we need Thomas and Mortianna to help sort him out. I'm not… really sure what more you could do." Guy said with a shake of his head.

"Oh, my. Very well. I'll leave you to it then." she nodded.

Guy opened the door that lead to Mortianna's apothecary and started down the stairs, as Rhiannon quickly went back to the window to see what she could make out from the scene below.

"I get it now. You're escorting me off the property. Figures… " Luke muttered.

"You know nothing right now. But you will… soon." Nottingham said as he led him in the direction of the stables.

"Im sure! So, just because I spoke out of turn a few times at your: "Look at me! I'm back!" meeting, now I'm suddenly sacked?" Luke asked, facetiously. He hooked the first two fingers of each of his hands in the air at the mention of his description for the meeting. "Boy, isn't that rich?"

Nottingham stopped in his tracks and turned to face him. He placed his hands firmly on Luke's shoulders, forcing him to focus, as he spoke.

"I don't know what the hell you're poisoning yourself with, lad, but it ends tonight." the Sheriff said, sternly.

"Don't be afraid to show me the real you. I've already seen some of the real you, anyway." Luke muttered.

Nottingham removed his hands from him, shaking his head in disbelief at what he was seeing. He never would have believed this in a million years.

"I can find my horse myself, Milord. I'll be out of your way. I've some things in my rooms I'd like to gather, though." Luke muttered.

"Oh, I bet! The drug you've been taking, right? Ha, ha! That would be a no, Luke. Whatever it is you're taking is going to be destroyed. Do you hear me?"

"You're completely off the mark!" Luke exclaimed.

"You're the most honest person I've probably ever known, Luke. Thus, you're a terrible liar. It's better if you just keep your mouth shut right now before you make a bigger mess of things than what you already have done." the Sheriff warned.

"I'm not a child! I can saddle and unhitch my own horse, and be on my way. There's no need for you to make a great big show of things." Luke huffed.

"You're not going anywhere, Luke." Nottingham said with a sneer. "Now, get moving. Follow me."

"Huh?" Luke asked, rather bewildered.

As they approached the stables, Gervase came out to greet them since he'd heard their voices travelling across the courtyard, growing increasingly closer while they moved toward the stables.

"Good evening, Milord Sheriff. Shall I prepare your horses for you?" he asked.

"Not just now, Gervase. But, I would like you to have my horse, and Officer Luke's horse saddled in the morning. We have an appointment in the Village on the morrow — immediately following mass." the Sheriff said.

Luke's jaw dropped just then as he looked to the Sheriff. What was he playing at? Was he taking him somewhere tomorrow to finish him off, or something?

Oddly, Luke had already forgotten about the planned visit to the curious raven haired lady's home. His immediate needs involved getting a drink of water, and getting into his chambers so he could nibble on the leaves of the plant that Diego brought for him. He didn't know it himself, but paranoia was starting to set in.

"As you wish, Milord. I shall have them readied for your journey." Gervase said.

"Thank you, Gervase." Nottingham nodded.

Gervase went back inside the stables, and the Sheriff turned, gesturing for Luke to follow him back to the castle.

Luke nodded in feigned agreement. He walked a few steps behind until they were about thirty feet away from the stables, then he stopped. He's planning to kill me tomorrow. He's going to draw it out until then. Just like what he did to those other two Knights, which Alfred keeps reminding us about. Luke thought.

The Sheriff thought Luke was directly behind him. Then, he heard a sword being unsheathed from its scabbard.

Rhiannon was looking out of the window again. The men had just been seen at the stables, then they appeared to be headed back toward the castle. She saw Luke stop in his tracks. She watched in horror as Luke unsheathed his sword.

Just then, Gisborne and Mortianna came through the door that lead down into her lair.

"Sir Guy!" Rhiannon exclaimed urgently, as she ran toward them.

"What is it, Milady?"

"George and Luke. They're down in the courtyard close to the stables. Luke is wielding his sword! What the hell is happening?" she asked, fearfully.

"God damn it!" Gisborne exclaimed.

"We must do something!" Rhiannon shouted.

Guy looked to Mortianna.

"Go get Thomas straightway, Mortianna. Then both of you get to Luke's quarters and meet us there. The sentry outside the door will direct you. Go!" he urged her.

Mortianna nodded and quickly left the chambers.

Guy ran through the door just then. Rhiannon stood there a moment, speechless. She ran back to the window to see what was happening. What did Sir Guy mean that he and her betrothed have seen this before? What on earth had happened to Luke?