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?

43. Chapter 98

Lady Rhiannon was surprised when he began to guide her to the doors at the rear entrance of the castle. She couldn't imagine why they wouldn't be heading in the direction of their horses?

"We're not going to the stables, George? Won't we be needing our horses?" she asked.

"No. Not for this." the Sheriff replied, cryptically. He took her cape from her arm then placed it over her shoulders before donning his surcoat. Then, he led her through the doors.

They walked towards the garden wall in the gardens out in back. There was an aura of light in the distance. As they drew closer, she could see a large canopied area. The canopy was ivory in colour. The light was emitting from two cauldrons which contained fire burning inside of them, keeping the canopied area warm and aglow. In the centre of the table inside the canopy was a small bouquet of white roses, as well as glowing candles.

"Oh, George. This is… beautiful." Rhiannon gasped.

"I'm pleased you approve, my lady. Come. Let's get you warm. It's rather chill out here." he smiled as he took her inside the tented area, and pulled her chair out for her.

Rhiannon seated herself in the unusually cushioned comfortable chair, and looked across the table at him, questioningly, as he took his seat.

"What?" he asked curiously, as he tried to read her expression.

"You surprise me all of the time, husband. You gave this quite a bit of thought. What's the occasion? Have you something to tell me?" a beat. "Are you… planning to leave on one of your missions soon?"

"I wanted to do something just for you. I told you. It's to make up for being unable to take you away, my lady. No, I've no plans to leave, but if things continue the way they are regarding the fugitive, some of my men being sent on a mission to find him outside the shire may be in order." he sighed. "That's all I will say about that. Now is not the time. Now… is for us." the Sheriff said, softly.

"I see." Rhiannon said.

"My lady, do not quarrel with me now. Just be at ease and allow me to pamper you. Alright?"

"Of course, sugar. Forgive me. I guess I'm just… taken aback. Thank you for this."

"It's only just getting started, angel. The decor turned out well. Let's see what Jean Louis had in mind for our evening fare — if he remembered the instruction to bring it back here." Nottingham sighed.

Just then, a servant appeared, carrying a large flask of wine.

"Wine, Milord?" she asked.

"Indeed." he nodded.

The servant poured a small measure into his goblet. He sniffed of it, took a sip, then gestured for the maiden to continue. The servant added more to his before pouring into the lady's goblet.

Before they could even taste the wine, Jean Louis entered inside with a bright smile to greet them.

"Bonsoir, mon Seigneur Sheriff. Dame Rhiannon."

"Bonsoir, Jean Louis." Rhiannon smiled.

"What is on the menu tonight, Jean Louis?" Nottingham asked.

"Something a little different, mon Seigneur. You are choosy, though, so I added a few items for your dining pleasure."

"Oh." he frowned.

"What is the menu item that is out of the ordinary, Jean Louis?" Rhiannon asked, curiously.

"Something brand new. Except, it's not, really — where I come from. It's a noodle smothered in a rich, creamy and tasty sauce, with roasted pheasant, onions, and button sized mushrooms added in." Jean Louis smiled.

"Excuse me? What exactly is a… noodle?" the Sheriff asked.

"It's dough made from wheat, it's formed into shapes and then it is boiled. Seeing and tasting is believing. Describing how it's made does it no favours." Jean Louis explained.

"I shall take your word for it, because… you're right. It doesn't sound very appealing the way you describe it." he sighed.

"If you dislike it, I have other options, mon Seigneur Sheriff."

"I'm sure it will be fine, Jean Louis. Send it out directly. I'm starving." Rhiannon smiled.

The Sheriff looked to his personal chef and nodded.

"C'est bon! I shall bring it to you right away." he nodded, then left to carry out the task.

"This should be interesting." the Sheriff remarked.

"I'm sure it will be satisfactory, George. I can't think of any dish he's come up with I didn't like."

"That's funny. I can." the Sheriff scoffed.

"One dish. Galimifree. That's one of how many?"

"We shall see. I might be adding this noodle concoction to the 'do not serve again' list."

"You're so fickle, George." Rhiannon giggled.

"Aren't we all — at our core, my dear?"

"I suppose."

The Sheriff picked up his goblet and raised it. "Here's to us, Rhiannon. May we always be this happy." he smiled.

"Indeed, husband." she smiled. She picked up her goblet and held it toward him, then they both tasted of the wine.

"Very smooth." he smiled.

"Yes. It's delightful." she nodded.

A short time later, Jean Louis arrived carrying a tray. He set it on a small table that was near to them, then brought two shallow bowls over to them, and placed them on the table in front of them.

"There's a trick to eating this." the chef said.

"I figured that since we seem to be missing knives. What are we supposed to do with the spoon? Looks like it would be difficult to scoop this up in a spoon." the Sheriff commented.

"Indeed. I brought an extra small portion with the same cutlery for demonstration purposes, mon Seigneur." Jean Louis smiled.

"Of course, you did." he sighed.

Jean Louis went back to where the tray was, and brought the small bowl over to show them.

"Droit. Here's what you do. You hold the spoon in your non dominant hand, and use the fork with your dominant hand to grab a few of the noodles. Then you twirl the noodles around the fork upon the spoon. Just a few noodles. Like this." Jean Louis smiled as he deftly demonstrated how it was done.

"Oh, I see! Like this, Jean Louis?" Rhiannon asked as she attempted it, perfectly.

"Oui, Dame Rhiannon. That's exactly how it's done. Tres bien!"

Rhiannon tasted of the noodles in the creamy sauce.

"Oh, my! This is amazing. Quite delicious, indeed." she smiled.

"Merci. I'm happy you like it." Jean Louis smiled.

"Seems like a lot of effort, to me." the Sheriff remarked.

"It's really not, George. Try it." Rhiannon encouraged him with a smile.

He looked down at the curious dish before him, sighed, then held the cutlery exactly as he was shown, and made his first attempt. Once the noodles were wrapped around the tines of his fork, he hesitated a moment, then tasted it.

Jean Louis and Rhiannon waited for the verdict.

The Sheriff narrowed his eyes as he began to chew it, then his eyes widened in surprise.

"Hmm. I wouldn't have believed it, but this is actually good, Jean Louis." he said.

"C'est bon! Success! I'm pleased you approve, mon Seigneur Sheriff." the chef smiled.

Then, he removed the demonstration bowl and cutlery from the table, and took them back to the tray. He returned carrying a napkin lined basket with freshly baked bread placed inside of it.

"Some fresh baked bread to accompany the dish, mon Seigneur."

"Thank you, Jean Louis." he said.

The chef smiled, then took the tray with him as he left.

"I'm impressed, George. You could've asked Jean Louis to prepare anything you wanted. Instead, you left it to his discretion. And now, here we are, tasting a brand new dish for the first time together — in the same place where we first spoke." Rhiannon smiled.

"I'm glad you made the connection about why I chose this spot for dining. Originally, I was going to choose the balcony. Then, I decided to choose something out of the ordinary."

"It's all out of the ordinary, but, it's perfect."

"I'm glad you're pleased, my lady. It astounds me all of the time how you just entered into my life at the perfect time. I still don't know how it was you weren't wed by then." the Sheriff mused.

"That's because I raised a fuss over that. Robert tried. I put my foot down on that. I wasn't going to sacrifice my maidenhead to just anyone. Father might not have listened to my protests about it if he were alive then, but, eventually, my brother caved." she said as she took a sip of the wine.

"I'm glad you did raise a fuss. You were made for me, and only me, my lady." he smirked as he took another bite of the delicious noodles.

"You honestly never had that with another?" she asked.

"No. Not at all. I don't even think I truly understood the meaning of the word 'love' before I met you." he said.

"I only knew of it in the familial sense. My father, and my brothers. My uncle and aunt. I didn't quite understand what passion was about." she said.

"I'm glad you do now." he said as he sipped of his wine. "There's one thing I've always been curious about, however." the Sheriff hinted as he set the goblet on the table.

"What is that?" she asked.

"How you always seem to know how to please me, even though you were a virgin when we met." Nottingham said.

"I don't know. A good imagination and natural instinct, I suppose. Plus, there was that time… in the stables." Rhiannon hinted.

Luke had just stepped out of the bath, and threw on his robe after using the large fluffy towel placed by the tub. He was humming to himself as he went into the bedchamber, then stood before the mirror on the table. He was working on words to a jaunty song he'd been toying with the last few days, as he prepared to brush his dark wet hair.

"Up all night; your body's twitching la la la la la… " he sang, merrily.

Luke found this to be a perfect distraction from intrusive thoughts that kept nagging him of late.

"See the ladies with their gowns laced tight; la, la, la, la, la come the dead of night." he sang in a high register, completely lost in the moment.

And then, a knock on his door interrupted him. He fastened the robe, grabbed the towel he was using on his hair, and went to answer the knock.

He opened the door of his chambers exhaling a heavy sigh, and rubbing his wet hair with the towel.

"Catch you at a bad time?" Ancel smirked.

"It's fine. Come in. I assume you're here about the longbow?" Luke asked. He moved aside and held the door open.

Ancel stepped inside. "Indeed. I'm eager to see it." a beat. "Have you company at the moment?"

"No. Why?"

"Well, I could have sworn I heard… singing, or something, for one thing." Ancel grinned.

"I couldn't find something, and muttered curses aloud." Luke lied.

"I see. Secondly, You look like you just rolled out of bed. Is that sweat, or water in your hair?"

"I just bathed, if you must know. If you were assigned fraud shop duty today, you would have been thoroughly scrubbed by now, too; and, I'm not being funny about it." Luke sighed.

"Oh. Sorry to hear that. Glad I missed it. Guess that explains why you didn't answer when I knocked earlier."

"Did you find the fugitive?" Luke asked abruptly, ignoring the comment.

"No. The sodding swine got away!" Ancel huffed.

"How does this keep happening?"

"I'm guessing the ultra healthy fast horse the bastard had stolen had a lot to do with it. That was how Safforus described the horse." a beat. "Lucky sod!" he sneered.

"Oh, right. The man who works for Lady Hayward. How did he manage?" Luke asked, curiously.

"Very well. He instinctively knew how to react, and he fit right in with the team."

"Does the Sheriff know this?"

"Yes. He met with us when we returned, of course. He questioned Drake about him, and the rest of us agreed that Safforus would be a good candidate for City Watch." Ancel said. "The longbow couldn't have arrived at a better time. He wants us to leave at first light. Are you joining us?"

"No. He's got me minding his wife, and Lady Gisborne. I'm to escort them to Lady Gunilda's cottage for… I don't know. Some kind of hen party? Ridiculous." Luke remarked with a sharp exhale.

"It's probably important if he chose you for the task."

"Yes, he explained that. That he trusts me to protect Lady Rhiannon. That's nice and everything, but where are his priorities? Wouldn't I be more useful elsewhere, like on the search team? We're so close to getting the ginger bloke!"

"And, we will — if I have anything to do with it." Ancel sneered. "Now, show me the newly crafted bows. I must retire soon."

The Sheriff narrowed his eyes upon his bride, suspiciously.

"What are you referring to? We have certainly never been intimate in the stables. It would never dawn on me to take you in such a place." he said.

"Of course not, my sweet. I know you wouldn't, and I'm grateful. As much as I love my horse, there's really nothing romantic about the stables." Rhiannon scoffed.

"Then, what incident were you hinting at?"

"The scene I witnessed once in the stables at our family home."

"How intriguing. Enlighten me. It wasn't one of your brothers you witnessed, I hope?" he frowned.

"No. I might have ran from there screaming if I had." Rhiannon said with a shudder.

"What happened?"

"I went to see to my horse. I heard moaning and heavy breathing. I thought someone had taken ill. I was about twelve years. It turned out, it was the young stable master, having quite the delicious tryst with a maiden." she said with a knowing quirk of her brow. Then she took a sip from her goblet.

"Oh, my. What did you do?" the Sheriff asked, curiously.

"At first, I thought it revolting, but soon I was riveted once I realized no one was being harmed during this strange interlude. This was also around the time I was having more frequent dreams about… you. It was like I awakened to a whole new world. That there was more to life than childhood memories of Robert reading Tristan and Iseult to Edward and me." Rhiannon said, then twirled some noodles upon her fork.

"So, you learned something that day." the Sheriff smirked.

"Indeed. I can still see it in my mind, as if it happened only yesterday."

"How strange that must have been for you as a young girl." he said, as he sipped of his wine.

"Yes, it certainly was. I thought about that moment for days. I've never told anyone about it before now, though. The stable master was kind, and good to the horses. I didn't want to get him in trouble." Rhiannon shrugged.

"Of course, you didn't. Even then, you were weighing the pros and cons of revealing such a scandal."

"I suppose." she nodded as she sipped of the wine. "My, this wine is going down quite nicely. It's delicious!"

"You must be nearly finished that goblet?"

"Almost. I hope there's plenty more."

"Is it more delicious than the food?" he grinned.

"Both are delicious, husband. But, there's something so refreshing about this wine. It's paired nicely with the noodle dish, don't you think?" she asked.

"Indeed, my lady." he smiled. Then, a thought came to him, and he straightened his expression. "When was the last time you had a drop or two of opium? Surely, your ribs are still tender?"

"Right after I left you earlier in the den. Before I fell asleep after changing out of my leather."

"Good. It's been awhile, then. In that case, drink up, my lady. The servant left the flask on that small table there. I'll top that up for you." the Sheriff said.

He stepped away from their table to retrieve the flask of wine. In moments, he returned. He poured the wine into their goblets, then set the flask on the table before seating himself.

"So, you're sure you don't have to leave me for a time, George?" Rhiannon asked once more.

"For now, yes. Things can change, though, Rhiannon. You knew this about me from the beginning. As long as I am Sheriff, then, it is what it is." the Sheriff said, with a knowing quirk of his brow.

"I know. I understand all of that. It's just… with all of the happenings of late, particularly the… loss of our daughter, it's been a comfort having you near to me." she said, softly.

"I'm sure, my lady; but, you are strong." the Sheriff said.

"Yes. When I'm consciously aware. I can be as strong as I need to be. But, I'm not strong in the dead of night when I wake from recurring dreams of her. Each time I awaken, for a few moments it's like it just happened. Every cursed fucking night since we lost her this has been my reality, George." Rhiannon said, shaking her head.

"Why did you never wake me, my angel?" he whispered.

"We're both grieving, my love. I didn't want to add to yours."

"Yes. Operative word being "both". We share this loss together. At least let me hold you when you wake from these cursed nightmares, my angel. They will pass in time, I'm sure."

"Very well. I'll nudge you if it happens later. Forgive me, George. I didn't mean to speak of such unpleasantries during this spectacular moment you orchestrated for us. I shall always treasure this moment." she smiled, then sipped again of her wine.

"You didn't ruin anything. I'm glad you told me. Do not be afraid to share these things with me. Now, you better finish your noodles, my dear. If you keep drinking like that, you're only going to be intoxicated." the Sheriff warned.

"I won't have any more than this." she said, nodding to her goblet. "I was hoping it would help me sleep better. You're right, though. The noodles are too good to leave behind." she smiled as she twirled some of them on her fork.

Luke was taking Floria out back to the gardens. He saw the canopied area, an aura of soft light coming from it. He didn't know what was going on in there, but he steered clear of it.

Floria held his arm and leaned into him, smiling merrily. He smelled so good to her. A combination of a pleasantly woodsy fragranced soap, and English leather.

"What do you suppose is happening over there in that canopy, Luke?" she asked, softly.

"Not sure, my love. It must be a private party of some sort. That's fine. We'll stay away from there. I don't wish to interrupt whatever is going on in there."

"I don't think I've ever been back here?" Floria said.

"I only know it from my patrols. It's quite pleasing when the flowers are blooming." Luke said as he continued leading her well past the glowing canopy.

"You know, this would be a great place for an outdoor event. In the summer, of course. I can imagine the flowers blooming, torches lit, music, and dancing. It would be magickal, Luke."

"It sounds like a perfect vision. Do you dance?"

"Yes, Luke. I learned it as a child. I was told I was very good. A girl can't really make a living at it, though. I could only think of one thing that would pay well when my mother died, unfortunately. What about you? Do you dance?" Floria asked.

"I grew up with parties and social functions. It was my task to dance with Felicia and Mary, to prevent unsavoury characters from getting near them. Some were already eyeing Felicia as future wife material. Insanity!" Luke sighed, shaking his head.

"Oh. Who are Felicia and Mary?"

"They were my sisters. They were already quite lovely. If they were alive today, I'm certain they would be stunning." he said softly. "So, I kept them occupied at these functions so that the patriarchs would back off suggesting a marriage to my mother of their sons to my sisters. Mother was too liberal minded to entertain that nonsense for several years." Luke explained.

"Sounds like a smart lady."

"Yes. She was." Luke said.

"If we had music, we could dance, my sweet." Floria smiled.

"We still could, Floria. I… can sing." Luke admitted.

"Wait… what?"

"It's not something I tell people. Who ever heard of a musically inclined Knight?" Luke chuckled.

"Then, show me, Luke. Sing something. And, we can dance." Floria smiled.

"Seriously? Out here?"

"It's the perfect backdrop, don't you think?" she asked, while fluttering her long dark lashes at him.

"Well, yes. I would need to keep my voice down. I don't want whoever is inside that glowing tent back there to hear me." Luke said, nodding behind him to where the canopy was located, some thirty yards behind them.

Floria turned toward him and grabbed both of his hands.

"Do it, Luke. I'm eager to hear you sing. Is it a tune I would know?" she asked.

"No. You wouldn't, because… I wrote it." Luke said. "I'm not warned up, so I'll start by humming."

The Sheriff and his lady were leaving the canopied area following their meal. Rhiannon was holding the small bouquet of white roses which were previously the centrepiece on the table. She stopped for a moment and narrowed her eyes, turning her head toward the area that was further into the gardens.

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

"Listen. I hear humming. A very pleasant melody, actually." she smiled.

The Sheriff paused a moment, straining to listen. It took a few moments, and then he heard it.

"I must see who is humming, George." Rhiannon whispered. "It's a very pretty tune."

"Seriously?"

"Yes. Come, husband. Let's just go take a peak." she goaded him as she started to move in that direction.

The Sheriff shook his head, yet he followed her as she led him by the hand.

They walked a little ways, maybe twenty yards and then they heard the pleasing sounds of a young man's vocals in perfect pitch:

"Come with me,

Into my dreams,

We'll soar to places that you've never ever seen, love."

"Oh, my God! I don't know who that is, but he has a lovely voice. Never heard that song before, either. Come, George. I must see what's happening!" Rhiannon whispered, urgently.

"Alright, angel." the Sheriff chuckled.

They continued on, walking quickly, then Rhiannon stopped. They were about twenty feet away, and she peaked around a hedge.

"Oh my! It's Luke, George!" she whispered, her eyes widened in astonishment.

"WHAT?" he exclaimed in a whisper.

The Sheriff huddled in close to her and together they spied, peaking around the hedge, unobtrusive to the young couple. His eyes widened in shock as he took in the scene before them.

"Oh, my. Look at them dancing, my love! This is just adorable!" Rhiannon whispered.

"Dear Zeus! Is there nothing the lad cannot do?" he whispered.

"Go to a place,

Only we belong,

Where things are right, while the world is all wrong, love." Luke sang perfectly as he lifted Floria in the air, and twirled her around.

As she came down, she caressed his face, then grasped his hand. Luke held her at arms length and they lifted their clasped hands high in the air, as Floria executed a perfect turn. Then, he pulled her in close and their bodies moved in what looked like a perfect choreographed dance.

"And, here we are,

The moon is nigh,

My body's weakened and I'm starting to get tired."

The Sheriff frowned at that last lyric. Why would a young, perfectly hale lad be singing about impending death?

"You hold my hand,

Elevate my soul,

My spirit's lifting in the presence of your heart glow." Luke sang as he gazed into Floria's eyes. Floria beamed as he lifted her in the air and slowly twirled her.

"This is beautiful." Rhiannon whispered.

"He's… yes. He's very good." Nottingham smiled, in spite of his misgivings about this. It looked a bit too romantic for his liking, but he was moved by Luke's talent all the same. They danced like a pair of professionals.

"And when the world has tried to shut us down, love,

Know that you're the only one I dream of;

I'll take you places you have never seen,

Somewhere in your dreams,

I will be your beacon." Luke finished the song with a flourish as he dipped Floria. Her right leg was bent and her left leg extended up, perfectly poised beside him.

"Oh, my! George? Do you think… he composed that tune? I've honestly never heard it before. It's so pretty, my love!" she exclaimed in a whisper.

"I don't know. It wouldn't surprise me. He seems to be a young man of limitless talent. He came from nobility. He might have been educated in the musical arts." the Sheriff whispered.

"I didn't know that?"

"He only told me this on the weekend. I don't think he's shared that with many people."

"Where the hell was he two nights ago?" Rhiannon whispered.

"He was right there, my lady. Working for me. He was in Knight mode, not… entertainer mode. All this time, and I never knew he could sing. And, dance… apparently." Nottingham shook his head, smiling.

"I wonder if he even realizes how good he is? He's a natural, for heaven's sake!" Rhiannon whispered.

"Probably not. He is very humble and modest." a beat. "Come, my lady. We should go. It appears he finished singing that tune."

"Very well. I must admit, I'd love to know if he wrote that, and does he have any other compositions up his sleeve? No musical accompaniment, yet he sang it in perfect a cappella. Remarkable!"

"Perhaps if things get boring at Lady Gunilda's home on the morrow, you could ask him to entertain you for a brief interlude?" the Sheriff teased.

"Except, I wouldn't want to put him on the spot." Rhiannon said, as they began to make their way back toward the castle.

"I was jesting, my lady. He is going to be there for a specific reason."

"Of course, husband. That was so pretty, I don't think I shall ever forget witnessing that." Rhiannon smiled.

Luke looked deep into Floria's eyes as they stood facing each other, holding hands. Her eyes were misty, as she was overcome by Luke's talent, and the moment they just shared.

"Luke." she whispered. "That was… the most beautiful moment I've ever experienced. Your voice. That song you composed. You're… so talented!" she beamed with pride.

"Thank you, my love. I came up with that recently. I… wrote it for you."

"What?"

"Yes. It kind of came to me in a fever dream. As soon as I awakened, I had to write it down so I wouldn't forget." Luke smiled.

Then, he pulled her in close to him and kissed her softly. Afterward, he held her in an embrace.

"I love it, Luke. You can sing to me anytime you wish. No one has ever done that for me." Floria whispered.

"And… you can dance." he whispered as he pulled back from her to look into her eyes. "Your dancing is beautiful, my love. Never stop dancing."

"I won't. As long as you never stop songwriting and singing, Luke. You are… gifted." a beat. "Thank you. I shall cherish that moment all the rest of my days."

"Good. Come, my love. I see a bench just up ahead. Let's be seated. I have a flask of wine I stuffed into the inside pocket of my surcoat." Luke smiled as he grasped her hand and led her to it.

The following morning the Sheriff was headed to the Council Quarters. He was a little tired, as his wife did, indeed, nudge him to get his attention during the night when she had an unpleasant dream of their daughter. He hoped these interruptions to her sleep would come to an end soon.

Guy was waiting for him inside of the meeting chamber.

"Ah, good. You're rested, I see. You'll be on top of your game when you interrogate the Priest." Nottingham said.

"Indeed, Cousin. We dined soon after my bath, then I fell into a perfect sleep. How was your evening?"

"It was… illuminating. In more ways than one." Nottingham hinted.

"Anything you can share?" Guy asked.

"Rhiannon and I dined out in the back gardens, by the garden wall. A canopy was set up there, with two small fires going inside of it." Nottingham began.

"That sounds charming, Cousin. I would wager she liked that." Guy smiled.

"We both did. And, then, as we were heading back, we heard a soft humming. My wife insisted we investigate."

"I see. What happened? Was it the temporary worker from the stables out back, humming to himself?"

"No. The humming ceased, and then we were serenaded by someone no one would expect." he hinted.

"Did you see whom it was? Hopefully, it wasn't terrible." Guy scoffed.

"You're not going to believe it. I can hardly believe it, myself. He was very good." a beat. "It was Luke. He was singing to Floria. They were dancing. I've never seen two people dance like that. It was… astonishing, really. It was like watching a staged performance, they were that good." the Sheriff chuckled with a shake of his head.

"You can't be serious? Our Luke?" Guy asked, incredulously.

"Indeed. The lad surprises me all of the time. If you could have heard him sing, Gis. His voice was even better than Milo Medley's, if you can believe that." the Sheriff said as his eyebrow shot north.

"Damn! Next time we have a celebration we should ask him to sing. Too bad we didn't know this for your party on Monday night."

"Even if we had known this, he wasn't feeling quite himself then. You're right, though. He's too good to keep this hidden." Nottingham said, then cleared his throat. "When are you planning to visit His Holy Instigatorness?"

"Within the hour. Just need to find the Scribe to accompany me." Guy said. "I'm quite well versed in this, but, anything in particular you want me to add in the line of questioning?"

"See if he'll provide names of the key players — his closest contacts in the Jesus blokes. Find out if any of those men are the ones who were taken to the dungeon when he was. When the Duke returns with the men tonight, we shall meet right here. It will be us, the Duke, Robert and Nic. We will discuss the stratagem for the search. When we will do it, and who will be executing the search." the Sheriff said.

"Very well. I'll report back when I've completed the questioning."

"Perfect. Use every tool up your sleeve to get him to talk. Be sure to mention Fladius, the groundskeeper. Ask him if the groundskeeper is part of his rebellion. Fladius said the consort was being housed at the Priest's home for a time. Then, she disappeared, as he put it. I was going to get you to question him about that, but that's not a priority now. The cursed little wretch is dead. The key players' names, and whether or not this Fladius fellow is involved is our focus." Nottingham instructed.

"Consider it done." Guy grinned. He took leave and walked toward the door. He was surprised when he opened it and saw Luke standing there, his hand poised to knock.

"Oh! Good morrow, Luke." Guy smiled.

"Uh… good morrow, Sir Guy." Luke nodded, surprised by how animated the Lieutenant appeared, so early in the day. "I was just looking for — "

"Go on inside, Luke. He's here." Guy said, nodding behind him.

"Thank you, Sir Guy." Luke said. Then, he entered inside the meeting chamber after Gisborne left.

Luke closed the door, then turned toward the Sheriff.

"Good day, Milord. I hope I'm not disturbing you."

"No. Not at all."

"I was wondering if you knew an approximate time I shall be escorting the ladies to Lady Gunilda's home? If I know ahead of time, I can have the stable master ready the horses. I'm guessing I'm taking them in the carriage?"

"That would probably be best. It will kill Rhiannon not to ride her horse, but, it's best for Lady Gisborne." Nottingham said.

"Great. Did I hear Lady Gunilda say yesterday that the plan was for an afternoon visit?" Luke asked.

"Indeed. That is correct. I couldn't say if the ladies plan to leave just after midday, or mid afternoon. Check with Lady Rhiannon around midday in case I'm occupied."

"Of course, Milord. I will do that." Luke said, then turned to head back to the door.

"Luke?"

"Yes, Milord?" Luke asked as he turned back to face him.

"When… were you going to tell me?" Nottingham asked as he slowly walked toward him.

"Tell you… what?" a beat. "Not this again." he muttered, shaking his head. "I did not bed Floria, Milord. I swear to you."

"That's… not what I'm referring to."

"Have I done something to displease you, Milord?"

"No. I… saw you last night." Nottingham smirked.

"Wait… what? When?" Luke asked, his face turned ashen. He hoped to God the Sheriff had not seen him singing to, and dancing with Floria.

"You must have seen the canopy in the back gardens? Hard to miss since it was big and white, and glowing from the light of two small fires burning inside of it." Nottingham smirked.

"Oh, no! You were in there?" Luke asked, softly.

"I was dining with my wife. She heard you humming as we were leaving. You know she's a musical sort, too, right? Naturally, she was wildly curious."

"Oh, no." Luke muttered. He put his palm to his forehead, looked to the floor and sighed.

"We… saw you. It was like watching a stage performance, lad. I was impressed with you both."

"I'm… sorry I interrupted your special evening with your bride. I thought… only Floria could hear me." Luke sighed.

"No apology needed, Luke. It was deserving of applause. You're very good."

"Thank you… Milord." Luke sighed, then looked to the floor.

"No need to be modest, lad. You really are good. My wife is dying of curiosity. She might even ask you this later. Did you compose that tune?"

"I… did, Milord."

"When? However did you think of it?"

"It came to me in a dream when I was unwell over the weekend. I wrote it down immediately when I awakened."

"Intriguing. Did you know that my wife is a composer, as well?"

"I do know that the Medley Brothers played a song she wrote at your wedding fete. I was there, Milord." Luke nodded.

"She plays two instruments. What about you, Luke? Can you play anything?" the Sheriff asked.

"Yes, Milord. I play… a few, too."

"How lucky we are to have you with us. You should consider performing next time we have a celebration of some sort." the Sheriff suggested.

"And, how lucky I am to have more useful skills in my repertoire than those involving musicality. It's not exactly something one can make a decent living at. Not in these times. I'm sure the Medley Brothers would agree." Luke pointed out.

"Of course, Luke. But, next time there's a celebration of any sort, I want you to sing something."

"Milord, I don't think that would go over very well, honestly. How could I be taken seriously if I'm carrying on like a Bard, or something?" Luke sighed.

"I think you underestimate your natural talent, Luke. No one would dare to tease you about it. If they did, I can promise you their words would be firmly rooted in jealousy."

"Perhaps, Milord."

"I'm warning you. You have demonstrated you have something in common with my wife. I'm very sure that if she has a moment to do so, she will ask you if you wrote that song. She was also curious if you'd written anything else."

"I see. That's good to know. I have written others. Last night was the first time I sang anything to anyone since before my family were killed. The last time was at o party hosted by my mother." Luke explained.

"You're good, Luke. You shouldn't waste talent like that."

"It's just a hobby, Milord. I'm more useful with the other skills I have. Lots of people have good singing voices. Alas, nobody can make a living from it." Luke shrugged.

"Indeed. But, if I ever need someone to pose as a Bard while investigating a tavern denizen, or something similar, I'm sending you." Nottingham smirked.

"Of course, Milord. That would certainly be interesting." Luke smiled.

Ladies Rhiannon and Meridwyn were walking the corridor towards the Wordsworths' chambers. Both were readied for another session with Isabelle and the Gisborne's palfrey. Meridwyn would have preferred a little more time to relax, and she certainly wasn't expecting that Rhiannon was very serious about accepting Lady Gunilda's invitation.

"I can't believe you still want to go to visit with that Gunilda woman. She was once your husband's lover — yet, you wish to make friends with her!" Meridwyn huffed.

"Yes. That was nearly two decades ago. You and I were barely past knee high at that time. I'm interested to learn more about her." Rhiannon said.

"Fine. It shall be interesting, to say the least."

"It's all set. Luke will be taking us, Meridwyn. In a damn carriage. You don't even need to ride."

"Guy will be glad of that. Let us hope Isabelle is fit for this so early in the day." Meridwyn sighed.

Isabelle was surprised to see them so early when she answered their knock.

"Oh. Good morrow. What's going on?" Isabelle asked.

"If you're fit for it, we're going to drag you away from your husband and get you up on Meridwyn's palfrey, come hell or high water." Rhiannon whispered with a smirk.

"Yes, I suppose I am fit for it. I guess I wasn't expecting to do this so early, though. Come in." she said as she held the door open for them. "Also, there's no need to whisper."

"Where's Robert?" Rhiannon asked.

"In the armoury. They're working on something for Milord."

"I see. I have something to do in the afternoon. That's why we're going to do this session now." Rhiannon explained.

"Very well. I just need to change into something less fancy for the occasion. What's that draped over your arm?" Isabelle asked, curiously.

"A pair of my breeches. Put them on under your gown, Isabelle. You'll be glad of it if we actually manage to get you moving a few paces, seated atop the horse." Rhiannon said as she passed them to her.

"Very well." Isabelle sighed as she took them from her. "Just give me a few moments. Please. Be seated."

Guy strolled into the dungeon with the Scribe. Joseph greeted him as soon as they entered inside.

"Good morrow, Sir Gisborne. Which one of our prisoners are you here to see?" Joseph asked.

"The Priest." Guy said.

"Very well. Follow me. I put him in an isolated cell to keep him from the other Jesus followers, or whatever they're called." Joseph explained, rolling his eyes.

He led them down a path toward the door of the cell. He indicated the writing supplies to the Scribe right outside the door, then unlocked the door for the Lieutenant.

Guy pushed the door open and stepped inside, with the Scribe following directly behind him.

The Priest was seated on the floor, chained to the wall. He looked up at Gisborne with dark circles under his eyes. Guy smirked when he noticed how visibly tired the Priest appeared.

"What can I do for you, Sir Gisborne?" the Priest asked.

"First, you can state your name."

"Right. Father Tuttle."

"And, your given name?" Guy asked.

"Everyone just knows me as Father Tuttle."

"Yes. Well, things are a bit different right now, because now — you're in a spot of trouble. So, let's try that again, shall we?" Guy sighed.

"Fine. It is Amis Eluard Tuttle." the Priest sighed. He hoped this wouldn't take long. He hadn't slept at all these last three nights. Now, he felt like he could fall asleep at any moment, despite his accommodations.

"Explain this Christian Brotherhood for Jesus you lead. How long has this been going on?" Guy asked, directly.

"It's the Christian Brotherhood. Started a few weeks after the Heralds announced the Sheriff's nuptials." the Priest replied.

"I see. How many are there?"

"I… don't know. Our numbers have been growing." the Priest shrugged.

"A rough estimate would be nice." Guy sighed.

"Maybe seventy five, give or take a few."

"Good. Now, give me the names of the key players. Who are your henchman?" Guy asked.

"You have four of them in here already."

"No kidding, Your Graceless! Names!" Guy demanded.

"I'm sure they gave their names to your jailer." the Priest said with a yawn. He kept blinking, in an effort to keep his eyes open.

"God's nightgown! Wake up, you fool! Give me names!"

"You should mind your language, son." the Priest said, softly.

"I am not your son! I am here at the request of your Sheriff to gather information. We have ways of making you talk, since you seem clueless as to how things are done around here. Give me names of your key players in this cursed bible pushing organization you run!" Guy demanded, placing his hand upon the pommel of his sword, so that the Priest could see it.

"The four you are holding in this vile place are the top ones. There are two others, though." Father Tuttle muttered.

"Fine. The jailer will get the names of the four prisoners we have — since you seem to be experiencing a dose of senility secondary to sleep deprivation. Now, you tell me the names of these other two misguided cretins that are running things in your stead. Now!" Guy snarled as he unsheathed his sword.

The Priest swallowed.

"What… will happen to them?" the Priest asked, nervously.

"That depends how stupid they are. If they cooperate, there might be some leniency shown. No more stalling. Names!"

"Right. God forgive me. They are Everard Nesdin, and Gunter Thorne." Father Tuttle said while genuflecting.

"See how simple that was? Splendid." Guy smirked, then he looked to the Scribe. "Did you get all of that, Scribe?"

"Yes, Sir Gisborne. Everything he's said thus far." the Scribe nodded.

"Perfect." Guy nodded. Then he turned his attention back to the Priest.

"The Sheriff met with Fladius yesterday. Is he involved in this rebellion you head up?" Guy asked.

"No. He knows nothing about it. He likes to lead a quiet life. It's not something I thought would interest him. He would probably see it as… criminal." Father Tuttle sighed, realizing too late his poor choice of words.

"Isn't that fascinating? Because that is how we see it! Don't worry. We'll be searching his quarters, too, to confirm that. Now, where are you people holding your meetings?"

"If you have the names, isn't that enough?"

"If it were, I wouldn't waste my breath asking the damn question! Where are your meetings taking place?"

"In an old abandoned warehouse on the other side of town. It's a few miles north from my church. The Church of the Holy Trinity." Father Tuttle muttered with a yawn.

"When are the meetings held, and how often?" Guy pressed him.

"Every two weeks on Thursday nights."

"Good. When was the last one scheduled?" Guy asked.

"Last night. They're probably expecting me to head up the next one."

"Well, isn't that too bad, cupcake? I can promise you that you won't be in attendance for that one. You should just get settled in here, since that will not be happening." Guy scoffed.

"Surely, I'm to be released at some point? I'm a Priest, for heaven's sake! Who shall deliver the Sunday sermons?" Father Tuttle pointed out.

"You should have thought of that before entertaining the foolish notion of heading up a God damn rebellion!" Guy shouted.

"Mind your lang — "

"Shut it! You're in our house now. Our rules. I couldn't give a flying rat's bare arse whether my choice of wording offends you or not!" Guy sneered.

"I'll pray for you." Father Tuttle muttered.

"You had better just pray for yourself, if that's what makes you happy. Not that it will do a damn thing for you!" Guy sighed, then looked to the Scribe. "Did you jot down what we learned of the meetings, Scribe? The location, and when the next one is scheduled?"

"Indeed, Sir Gisborne. The abandoned warehouse a few miles north of Father Tuttle's church, on Thursdays. Next one is scheduled in close to a fortnight." the Scribe said.

"Very good. Thank you, Scribe. The Sheriff will be pleased we had success down here." Guy nodded.

"Does that mean we are finished now?" Father Tuttle asked.

"Why? Am I keeping you from something?" Guy chuckled. Then he straightened his expression. "Yes. Unless… you have anything else to share?"

"I've told you the important points."

"Then, we are done here. You'd better take a nap. Expect to see us again sometime." Guy sneered.

Then he turned, as he and the Scribe left the cell.

The morning air was chill as the ladies were assembled in the area out back of the stables. Isabelle had finally achieved mounting the palfrey. Rhiannon walked beside the horse as she instructed Isabelle on how to ride it.

Now, Isabelle was doing it all on her own. Rhiannon stood beside Meridwyn about twenty feet away, and called out to Isabelle.

"Well done! That's brilliant, Sister. Now, get her to trot about sixty paces or so, then turn her around and come back. Alright?"

"You're sure I won't fall off? Last time you walked beside us." Isabelle shouted back.

"You won't. You're doing it, Isabelle. You're riding! Remember what I told you about balance. And, do not frighten her." Rhiannon called out.

Isabelle nodded, then gently kicked the palfrey into motion.

"Damn, Rhi. You did it! I didn't think there was any chance in hell she'd even mount the horse today, and she's riding because of you." Meridwyn smiled. She had her elbow leaned on the fence, her right hand supporting her head as she faced her sister in law.

"Thank you. We're not quite there yet, but, this is a good start." Rhiannon said. She leaned against the fence and turned her head to Meridwyn.

"When exactly do you wish to leave for Gunilda's cottage?"

"Soon after midday, I imagine. I need to find Luke and let him know."

"Why not just send a message to him?" Meridwyn asked.

"Because… I need to talk to him about… last night." Rhiannon said.

"Excuse me? What about last night?" Meridwyn asked with a suspicious quirk of her brow.

"Oh, for God's sake, Meridwyn! George and I saw him last night." Rhiannon sighed.

"Okay?" Meridwyn shrugged. "Still doesn't explain much."

"I told you we dined in the gardens, right?"

"Yes. You mentioned it when you arrived at my chambers. It sounded sublime, by the way."

"When we were leaving, I heard humming. We went to see what was happening. We peaked around a hedge and saw Luke and Floria, dancing perfectly together as he sang her a song I'd never heard before." Rhiannon explained.

"What? What was… that like?"

"Meridwyn, it was… divine. I've never seen anything so beautiful and moving. His voice is magick. Their dancing was equally as good." Rhiannon smiled.

"That sounds dreamy, Rhi; but… you might reconsider mentioning this to him." Meridwyn said, surprising her.

"Why? Doesn't he deserve due praise?" Rhiannon asked.

"Of course, but, remember: that was a private moment that you were spying on. He's likely to feel some sense of shame he was overheard, and seen."

"Nonsense! Besides, I need to know if he composed the tune he sang. It was lovely. Honestly, he'd be a perfect choice to sing at your party next month — if Sir Guy decides to give you one." a beat. "I should talk to him about that."

"If he's that good, why not have him sing something at the Yuletide Ball? I'm sure it will happen this year. It's tradition here at Nottingham Castle. Been going on as long as your husband has been Sheriff. Except, there was that one time… last year. He cancelled it last year, I'm sure… because he was missing you." Meridwyn said.

"Oh. Another public event to look forward to." Rhiannon sighed. "That's a good idea, though. I'll mention that to Luke when I speak with him." she said, then turned her attention to Isabelle. "Excellent, Sister! Bring her back now!" she called out.

Isabelle waved and began to ride slowly back toward them.

"I would just be careful how you approach this with him. Performers can be… shy. My mother had a friend who performed. On stage, she was a firework. Off stage, she would mumble, act quite shy, barely made eye contact. I think Mother felt sorry for her. Mother met a few of her friends who also entertained people. They were just as strange, Rhi." Meridwyn said, shaking her head.

"For God's sake, Meridwyn. You know Luke! He's perfectly well adjusted. He'll be fine." Rhiannon pointed out.

"Of course, he is. But, I'm telling you, Rhi, those artsy people can be funny. You're going to see how funny I'm meaning when you raise this topic, mark my words." Meridwyn stated, firmly.

Later, close to midday, Lady Rhiannon found Luke in the corridor of the second floor.

"Good day, Milady. How soon will we be departing?" Luke inquired as he drew in closer to her.

"I'd say about forty minutes. Is that enough time?" Rhiannon asked.

"Indeed, Milady." he nodded.

"Good. Uhm… Luke? I need to discuss something private with you, if you don't mind. My husband and I heard — "

"Before you go any further I'm going to stop you right there." Luke said as he held his palm out to her. "I was already questioned by Milord earlier. I'm… embarrassed I was heard by more than just one person, never mind the two of you — of all people." Luke sighed. "If you'll pardon me for being outspoken about it." he added, then lowered his hand.

"Oh. Alright. I only wished to compliment you. Don't be ashamed. You were the perfect ending to a perfect evening with my husband." Rhiannon smiled.

"I thank you, Milady Rhiannon." Luke nodded, as he shifted in discomfiture.

"Have you ever considered… playing with another musician?" she asked, softly.

"No." Luke replied, quite surprised by the question. "I don't write music for public entertainment. I don't know any musicians, anyway. I did once, but… my mother died, you see."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Luke. And… now you know another musician." Rhiannon said with a knowing look.

"Yes. Milord told me you play two instruments. That would be awkward, and very bad visuals. As a musician, I would welcome it. I'd like to hear how we would sound. But, as one of the Sheriff's Investigators, and top men, I must decline… whatever it is you're proposing." Luke sighed.

"But… what if we practiced and only played for a limited audience? George, Sir Guy and Meridwyn, Robert and Isabelle, Floria, and Nichol? All of whom support you, by the way. We could surprise them. Lady Gisborne's birthday is coming up in a month. It would be grand." Rhiannon whispered, with an encouraging smile.

"Milady Rhiannon, with all due respect — you can't be serious? I'm already being monitored for the time I spend with Floria. I cannot give him a reason to distrust me, or bring him disappointment." Luke said firmly, in a hushed voice. "I made that mistake once already, and I never wish to see the look of disappointment on his face as he looks into my eyes again. With all due respect, I serve him —ultimately."

"I appreciate your loyalty to him, but… aren't you being a bit silly? Why on earth would you think us playing instruments while you sing would displease, or disappoint him? He quite enjoyed your performance last night." Rhiannon pointed out in a whisper.

"Because it wouldn't look right. You are the wife of my employer. And, I wasn't performing. Performing is something else entirely. That was a spontaneous moment between Floria and I that you happened in on."

"I understand that, but I'm going to talk to him about it. Regardless, you must consider entertaining us all at the Yuletide Ball next month." Rhiannon smiled.

"That's flattering, but… no. That is much too large of an audience for me. I suggest you book the Medley Brothers again. They're the best around here from what I can tell." Luke said.

"So, you did write the song you sang last night? You mentioned earlier you don't write music for public entertainment."

"Yes. I did." Luke said.

"What is the title?"

"The Beacon."

"People need to hear you, Luke. I don't think you realize how talented you are."

"I'm a Knight, Milady Rhiannon. It's not my job to entertain people."

"At least consider performing for the people who care about you. Your song was sublime, and your vocal is unmatched." Rhiannon pointed out.

"Perhaps someday, if all the right elements are in place. I might need to be drunk for that, though — which puts a kink in that plan because… I don't generally get drunk."

"I bet your comrades would like to hear you."

"If Milord ever asks me to entertain at some small party in future, I might consider it. The Yuletide Ball, though? No. There's no way I'd be at all comfortable with that. The Medley Brothers are inured to performing for crowds. I am not. I do appreciate you and Milord having confidence in me, though." Luke smiled.

"I see. Very well." Rhiannon sighed.

"I will go inform the stable master to ready the horses, Milady." Luke said, then he turned in a flourish and headed toward the staircase.

Rhiannon watched him for a moment, shaking her head. Oddly, Meridwyn was right. Luke was always so pleasant, yet in this instance he firmly dug his heels in. She would speak to her husband about this. Surely, Sir Guy was planning something for Meridwyn's upcoming birthday? If so, what would she need to do to convince Luke to sing a song or two?

Guy found his cousin on the main floor. He was with the Scribe who had already transcribed his notes onto parchment.

The Sheriff walked toward them.

"How did it go, Gis?"

"You were right. Having him squirm for one more sleepless night in his cell did the trick. He was too exhausted to deceive in any way." Guy smirked.

"I have the notes here for you, Milord." the Scribe said, passing the rolled parchment to him.

"Good." he said as he took the parchment from the Scribe. "Let's convene in the Council Quarters."

They followed him inside the meeting chamber. The Scribe closed the door, as the Sheriff took the parchment with him. He unfurled it and set it on the table.

"Hmm. Amis Eluard Titlittle. What an unfortunate series of names." Nottingham chuckled. Then, he frowned as he read further. "Wait. He didn't give the names of the four being held in the dungeon?"

"He could barely stay awake, Cousin. We shall defer to Joseph for their names. He said those are the four top key players, but, he did provide names to two others." Guy said.

"Yes. I see that notation. Everard Nesdin, and Gunter Thorne. Splendid." Nottingham smirked.

"We also got the location of the meetings noted, and when the next one is set to take place, Milord." the Scribe added.

"Very good. We'll have to take a look at that warehouse, as well. What did he say when you mentioned the groundskeeper?"

"He says that Fladius fellow is not a part of the Brotherhood. Said that he didn't tell him, because Fladius would probably find it to be criminal." Guy chuckled.

"Indeed. If Fladius was truthful, sounds like he's the only smart man over at that cursed church. We will still search his quarters to get confirmation of his assertions about that." Nottingham said with a knowing quirk of his brow.

"Of course." Guy nodded.

"Did you need to use strong arm tactics with His Holy Instigatorness?"

"No, Cousin. Not at all. I think he wanted to get the questioning over with so he could nap. The bloke could barely keep his eyes open." Guy scoffed.

"Perfect. It's always nice to have a cooperative prisoner for a change." the Sheriff smirked. Then he looked to the Scribe. "I need you to inform Nichol for me that we are leaving to go into town this afternoon."

"As you wish, Milord." the Scribe nodded, then left them to carry out the task.

"What's happening in town? You going to look for the Priest's contacts her gave us?" Guy asked.

"Not yet. None of that will be done until tonight's meeting. No. We're going to drop by the Inn. I need to warn Erasmus to pay attention should potato bloke turn up. You'll be in charge here, of course." Nottingham said.

"Good plan. Of course, Cousin." Guy nodded.

It was just over an hour after midday when Luke was steering the carriage into the lane at Lady Gunilda's cottage. He was startled when he noticed the state of her yard at the front of her property. The horses came to a stop, then he jumped down from the driver's seat and opened the carriage door.

"What in heaven's name do you suppose happened to that oak tree?" Meridwyn asked him, pointing to it.

The tree was split vertically down the centre of the trunk, with plenty of debris from fallen limbs and branches littering the base of it.

"Good question. I was wondering the same. I can't even begin to hazard a guess." Luke replied. He looked at it, curiously, then looked back to the ladies. "Come, ladies. I will assist you down the steps." he smiled.

As he was helping them out of the carriage, Lady Gunilda stepped outside of her front door and walked over to greet them with a smile.

"I'm pleased that you decided to come." Gunilda said.

"Indeed, Lady Gunilda." Rhiannon smiled. "I've been looking forward to it."

Meridwyn looked upon her friend, curiously.

"Welcome to my humble abode." Gunilda said. Then she looked to Luke. "Nice to see you again. Aren't you a friend of Drake's? Forgive me, I… don't know your name?"

"It is Luke, Milady. Yes, Drake is a friend of mine. I need to have a word with your stable master. Is he back in the stables?" Luke asked.

"Yes." Gunilda replied, looking upon him, curiously. "Have you met him?"

"No, Milady. I haven't. But, he made an impression on the men. I just need a moment with him, then I will return here and… guard your manor."

"Very well. I'll leave you to it, then." she said.

Luke nodded, then left to find Safforus.

Gunilda directed her attention to the ladies.

"Follow me inside, ladies. It's awfully chill out here. I have a nice fire going in the sitting room."

"What happened to the oak tree on your property, Lady Gunilda? I've never seen such a sight." Rhiannon asked.

"A lightning bolt struck it on Tuesday. What a mess to deal with." Gunilda frowned.

"Odd. I didn't see lightning that day. It did rain, but it was too cold for that sort of thing?" Meridwyn remarked.

"I suppose it's one of Mother Nature's mysteries, ladies." Gunilda shrugged. "Come. It's a bit chilly out here."

They walked the cobblestone path, then she held the door for them and directed them toward the sitting room.

"Do make yourselves comfortable. What can I get you ladies to drink?"

"What are you having?" Rhiannon asked.

"I'm nursing a goblet of wine. Would you care for some?"

"Wine would be grand." Rhiannon said.

"None for me. Perhaps tea, if you have it. I'm expecting a child, and I prefer not to imbibe too often." Meridwyn said.

"Understood. I'll return directly with refreshments for you." she said as she stepped away for a few moments.

"This is… so strange." Meridwyn commented in hushed tones.

"Nonsense, Meridwyn. Be at ease. She's only being hospitable to us. She's new in town. It's natural she would want to get to know people."

"Her former lover's new bride. Sure, Rhi. That's totally natural." Meridwyn sighed while rolling her eyes.

"Just keep an open mind, Meridwyn. If I can do it, you should be able to, as well." Rhiannon whispered.

"Here we are, ladies." Gunilda said as she breezed into the room carrying a tray. She set it on the table, then passed a goblet to Rhiannon, and a cup of tea to Meridwyn.

The ladies thanked her and began to sip of their beverages.

"How do you like living in Nottingham?" Rhiannon asked.

"It's much more enchanting a place then where I come from. I quite like it here." Gunilda smiled while taking a seat in her chair.

"Where was it you lived before, again? I'm not sure that I knew?" Meridwyn asked.

"Castleton, in Derbyshire."

"And, that's where you met Milord Sheriff?" Meridwyn pressed.

"Indeed. A long time ago."

"Yet, you never wished to marry him, or… anyone, you said." Meridwyn added.

"Meridwyn!" Rhiannon admonished in a whisper.

"No. It's easier that way. I don't think you understand. You see, I have certain… abilities. They tend to scare most regular people." Gunilda attempted to explain.

"You mean… like a witch?" Meridwyn asked.

"I suppose so. Some of them just come naturally to me, though." Gunilda shrugged, then sipped of her wine.

"Like… what, for instance?" Rhiannon asked.

"I can sense things others cannot, through sight and smell." Gunilda said.

"Really? Can you elaborate on that?" Meridwyn asked.

"I suppose." she said, then turned toward Rhiannon. "For instance, a couple of times, recently, I saw a small girl standing near your husband, Lady Rhiannon. She looked to be about ten years, or so. Had dark, bouncy curly hair. Eyes like his. But, she wasn't… among the living. I could tell she was a… I guess you might call her a wraith, or a spirit." Gunilda said, calmly.

"Sela." Rhiannon murmured. She looked down then took a sip of her wine.

"And, you, Lady Gisborne. Your suspicion and nervousness are palpable. I can smell it from you."

"What? Who ever heard of such a thing?" Meridwyn laughed, nervously.

"No one. Except for me." Gunilda said, simply.

Luke wandered into the stables. He didn't see anyone inside, at first, but he moved through there anyway, looking around for Lady Gunilda's stable master.

"Hello?" Luke called out. "Is anyone here?"

Within a few moments he appeared, emerging from one of the stalls.

"Ah! Another of the Sheriff's Black Knights, I see." Safforus said as he walked toward him.

"Safforus?" Luke asked.

"Indeed. My name precedes me, it would seem." Safforus nodded.

"I'm Luke. Pleased to meet you."

"Likewise. What can I do for you, Luke?"

"The Sheriff requests a meeting with you this day, if you can arrange that."

"Oh. Really? Whatever for? Did I overstep yesterday in some way?"

"No. He probably just wants to thank you and question you more about what you saw." Luke said.

"Oh. I see. Good. Don't want to get on the bad side of… the dark side." Safforus quipped.

"Pardon?"

"You know. The Sheriff. The dark side. At least, that's what he used to be like. So, I've… heard."

"From Lady Gunilda?" Luke asked.

"No. Just rumours."

"Those days are passed now." Luke said, suddenly struck with a new idea.

"Are you here to escort me there?" Safforus asked.

"No. The Sheriff's bride, and the Lieutenant's wife are here visiting Lady Gunilda. I was sent to keep watch in case that ginger bloke ends up here. That fugitive has a target on Lady Rhiannon's back — she is the Sheriff's bride. It's up to you when you wish to depart." Luke explained.

"Right. In that case, I'm staying right here until they finish up. If that bloke ends up here, you shall need backup." Safforus said.

"Very well. That will be fine." Luke said. He couldn't help but notice that Safforus placed more priority on that than meeting with the Sheriff right away.

"Good. I'm just finishing up in here. I'll come and keep watch with you shortly." Safforus said.

"There's really no — "

"If that strange bloke in the monk costume shows up for some outrageous reason, you shall need assistance. I insist." Safforus said.

"Very well. Thank you, Safforus." Luke nodded. "By the way, what's up with the damaged oak tree on the front of the property?"

"Apparently, it was hit by a bolt of lightning on Tuesday. Rather odd, don't you think?" Safforus asked.

"Indeed. It's certainly the wrong time of year for that. It was quite chill that day, if I recall. That's something you'd generally only see during summer solstice." Luke shrugged.

"It's a right mess, too. It's going to take quite a bit of time to deal with that." Safforus frowned.

"If you need a hand with that, I'm willing to help during my off hours."

"I'd appreciate that, Luke. If you like mead, I'll give you some of Lady Hayward's special blend. Best mead I've ever tasted." Safforus smiled.

"You don't need to, Safforus. Although, you have piqued my curiosity." Luke grinned.

"Alright, ladies… I hope you skipped your midday meal. I have some delightful pastries I threw together earlier. I think they turned out well. We also have fruit, and some homemade soup if you'd prefer something to warm you." Gunilda smiled. She had just come into the sitting room carrying another tray, this time with food.

"Thank you, Lady Gunilda. The pastries smell div — " Rhiannon was interrupted.

"Why are you doing this?" Meridwyn asked, suspiciously.

"Thought we went over that, Lady Gisborne?" Gunilda said as she placed the items from the tray on the table before them.

"What manner of poison is in those pastry things?" Meridwyn demanded.

"Poison? You've got me all wrong, my dear." Gunilda said. She reached to the table and picked up one of the pastries, then took a bite from it. "Mmm. You know, these turned out better than I thought they would. Could have used a dash of lemon, though." she frowned.

"Alright. What's in them?" Meridwyn nodded to the pastries on the table.

"Creamed cheese sweetened with honey, mixed in with berries." Gunilda smiled. "Fancy one?"

"It does sound appealing. Very well." Meridwyn nodded. She reached for a pastry and took a napkin. She took a tentative bite and began to chew slowly as she narrowed her eyes. Then, she began to nod and looked to Gunilda.

"Alright. I'll admit right now that if you put some fatal poison in that, it's a sweet way to go. It tastes kind of like heaven to me, and I can't believe I just said that." Meridwyn frowned with a shake of her head.

"No poison. It's actually not a sweet way to go, as you put it. Anyway, do enjoy the fare. And, I have a question for you, Lady Rhiannon." she hinted, when next she turned to the Sheriff's lady.

"Oh? What is that?" Rhiannon asked as she took a sip of wine from her goblet.

"You may have noticed that my gowns don't exactly fit in around here. I went into town yesterday, and what a futile venture that was." Gunilda began, rolling her eyes. "This personal Seamstress of yours — how busy is she? Does she take commissions? If so, would you be so kind as to connect me with her?"

"I'm sure she's not cheap." Meridwyn said, sipping of her tea.

"I can pay." Gunilda said, firmly.

"She working on something with her assistant for Meridwyn, myself, and my sister in law at the moment, but I could ask her if she would be willing." Rhiannon said.

"Thank you. It would be grand to update my wardrobe. At least a couple of new gowns, anyway."

"So, about these… abilities of yours. Or gifts, or spells, or whatever. How often do you use them?" Meridwyn asked.

"It depends in what capacity the intention is for. I don't do anything that will cause harm. To do so for a witch is a bad omen, anyway. It brings everything back to us much, much worse. What we call Karma." Gunilda explained.

"Can you charm… objects, for instance?" Meridwyn asked.

"Oh, yes. That reminds me. If you'd like to see a demonstration, I've yet to infuse it with magick." Gunilda said as she stood from her seat. She spoke as if she were talking about the most normal thing in the world.

She left the room, leaving the two ladies looking at one another, with bewildered expressions upon their faces.

Within moments, she returned, holding a dagger in her hand.

"What are you doing with that?" Meridwyn asked. She stiffened when she saw it.

"You'll see." Gunilda smiled.

Rhiannon observed curiously, as Lady Gunilda placed the dagger upon the table. She stood before the table and closed her eyes, directing her hands toward the dagger.

"Luminus victorus." Lady Gunilda repeated several times in a soft voice.

Then, suddenly the blade began to glow with a bright white light. Both of the ladies gasped as they stared at the dagger in awe. The light lasted a few moments, then it faded, leaving the blade gleaming as if it were only just polished.

"What… just happened?" Rhiannon asked.

"Is that thing going to jump off the table all by itself and aim directly for my heart now?" Meridwyn asked, nervously.

"I called upon the white light of wisdom to guide me when I must wield this dagger." Gunilda explained.

"Would… you do that… for me? I have my dagger with me, too." Rhiannon asked.

"Rhiannon? What are you doing?" Meridwyn admonished in a whisper.

Gunilda began by shaking her head. Then, she seated herself in her chair and took her goblet in her hand.

"All magick comes with a price — usually involving sacrifice. The spell I used compels me to always use my weapon wisely, even if I object to using it at all. T'would be the same for you." Gunilda frowned.

"What's wrong with that?" Rhiannon pointed out.

"Besides magick, Rhi? Are you losing your sanity?" a beat. "Has she bewitched you?" Meridwyn demanded as she nodded to Gunilda.

"Allow me to explain this in simpler terms to both of you." Gunilda began. "Lady Rhiannon, think of a possible scenario. For instance, imagine one day you come across a situation with your husband. And, even though you'd never dream of it in a million years, you are compelled to use your dagger — on him. Because, to you, it's the right thing to do in that moment, for whatever reason.

"You do so without question. Perhaps he has a chokehold on someone, or is holding a blade to their neck. You don't know why. You'd never imagine hurting him without at least questioning what he's doing, but this would be your new reality. This is what that spell will do!" Gunilda warned.

"Hmm. Point taken. I take that back. Just one obvious question: if that is the case, why on earth did you do that to your dagger?" Rhiannon asked.

"Didn't you just explain that all magick comes with a price? Was that a real spell, or, were you just trying to gain our sympathy about needing to pay your dues, or… whatever?" Meridwyn asked, suspiciously.

"It's about gaining trust. I just showed you a little bit about me that I'm reluctant to advertise, for obvious reasons. The enchantment of my dagger will guide me; and, besides… I've already paid my price." Gunilda said, then took a sip of her wine.

"What?" the ladies asked in unison.

"Oh, my! I forgot to bring the fruit with me. Who needs a top up of their beverage? More wine, Lady Rhiannon?" Gunilda asked, completely ignoring their question.

"Oh. Yes, please. This wine is lovely. Quite fruity." Rhiannon smiled as she sipped more of it.

"More tea, Lady Gisborne?"

"Alright. That would be nice. Thank you." Meridwyn said.

Gunilda arose from her chair and left the room for a few moments.

"This has got to be the strangest tea session I've ever had, Rhiannon. I mean, what if that dagger develops a life of its own now?" Meridwyn whispered, nodding to the blade still on the table.

"She explained that. Just because we don't understand it doesn't mean we should fear what we saw."

"I've never witnessed that kind of magick. Have you?"

"No. But, I think she might have done something to the consort out in the shed on Tuesday night. I saw George speaking with her before he confronted Celestria. And, right before my brother managed to kill her, Gunilda shouted to George that 'it was working, do it now'. Whatever she did, she did so in collaboration with George. Whatever it was, she did it to save Floria and I, so I'm not judging her." Rhiannon explained in a whisper.

"Interesting. That she would save her former lover's new bride. I must have missed that part." Meridwyn shrugged.

"See? She's really not so terrible, Meridwyn."

"Here we are, ladies." Gunilda announced. She walked into the room with a flask under her arm, a plate of fruit perched upon her forearm, and a pot of tea carried in her opposite hand.

"Oh, my! Let me help you with that." Rhiannon said. She arose quickly from her chair and took the plate of fruit from Gunilda.

"Thank you, Lady Rhiannon. I don't know what I was thinking, forgetting to put the fruit on the tray earlier." Gunilda said, shaking her head.

She walked over to where Meridwyn sat and poured more tea into her cup. She set the pot down as Rhiannon placed the fruit on the table, then Gunilda poured from the flask, topping up the wine goblets.

"So, are you going to tell us what you meant when you said you've already paid the price for enchanting your dagger?" Meridwyn asked, then nibbled on a grape.

"I'm interested to know, too. Can you share that?" Rhiannon asked.

Gunilda seated herself, then took a generous sip of wine before continuing.

"The dagger was forged in Castleton, a few weeks before I left there. It was given to me by someone very close to me, right before they died by their own hand — from taking a poison. They explained it all in a letter they left for me." Gunilda said.

"So, what does that have to do with the price you must pay… or, whatever you explained earlier?" Meridwyn asked.

"Sh — they were the sacrifice. This person understood me like no other, because they were like me. They… did it to get out of a marriage arrangement. They didn't love their intended — didn't even like their intended, to be fair; and they were a witch. It would never work, but their family was insistent." Gunilda said. She looked to her lap as she unobtrusively wiped a tear from her eye.

"I'm sorry for your loss; but, at this point we've all lost people we loved. I've lost my father, and a close childhood friend. Rhiannon has lost her father, and a brother. I don't mean to sound insensitive, but, if you only just charmed the dagger moments ago, doesn't the price still need to be paid… or, whatever?" Meridwyn asked, still confused by Gunilda's explanation.

"Not in this case. Sh — they were my kindred spirit, so to speak. I shall not see her again in this life. That is a huge price."

"Her?" Rhiannon asked.

"Did I say "her"? Hmm." Gunilda sighed.

"Yes. You did." Meridwyn said as she sipped of her tea.

"Oh." Gunilda said softly, then looked away.

"Did you… love her? The way I love my George? The way Meridwyn loves Sir Guy?" Rhiannon asked, tentatively.

"Yes, if you must know." Gunilda said, then sighed. "Not a word of this to anyone. The last thing I need is to be labeled a deviant as well as a witch. I usually prefer men. The man I'm interested in now is quite a delicious catch. But, she was extraordinarily special. My soul mate, I suppose you could say." Gunilda said, then sipped of her wine.

"Of course, we won't say anything. It matters not now, since your lover is dead. What was her name?" Rhiannon asked.

"It was Savina." Gunilda said, softly.

"What's… that like? Being with a woman?" Meridwyn asked, curiously.

"I wouldn't be with just any woman. When I met her, I didn't even imagine it then. It's difficult to describe. It's… comforting — with the right one. Like I said, though, it's not my usual preference. She was the only woman. Right now, all I can think about is the man I mentioned who interests me. Which is odd, because… I'm still grieving for Savina."

"Would we know the man you currently fancy?" Meridwyn asked.

"Maybe. I don't know." Gunilda lied. "I've already shared too much as it is. Now, you know about my magick, and you also know that I was romantically involved with a woman. No one has ever known that last part. Savina and I always had to keep that secret. Townspeople just assumed we were friends." Gunilda shrugged.

"Is he here in Nottingham?" Rhiannon asked.

"Yes. And, before you ask, it is not Milord Sheriff, nor his Lieutenant. He is young, unattached to any other woman, but a very fine specimen of a man, indeed." Gunilda smirked.

"Understood. Can you tell me… what was… George like back then?" Rhiannon asked.

"Quite a bit like he is now, only much younger. Clean shaven, not as filled out as he is now. He wasn't at all who he was reported to be when he was pursuing Robin Hood. Smart, often outspoken, distrusting, and very protective of Sir Guy — who was only a wee lad at the time. He was like a big brother figure to him." Gunilda said.

"What about Guy? Did you meet him back then?" Meridwyn asked.

"Only once. George and Nichol were in town on business and they brought him with them. He was a delightful, curious, smart little boy, and just darling. He had shoulder length light brown hair, deep, dark blue eyes. He looked like a little cherub." Gunilda smiled.

"Oh, that sounds adorable. I wish someone had painted his portrait back then." Meridwyn sighed, wistfully. She took a sip of her tea, then looked back to Gunilda. "And, what about Savina? What did… she look like?"

The mention of Meridwyn wishing there was a portrait of Sir Guy back then gave Rhiannon an idea. When this Richard fellow of the Black Knights was free to do so, besides asking him to draw portraits of her father and Edward, she wondered if Gunilda would be interested to describe the little girl to him she had seen with George? Rhiannon was certain that little girl was Sela.

"She kind of looked a lot like you, Lady Gisborne. She had hair the same colour as yours, except hers was in loose waves. Soft green eyes. About your height and size."

"Oh. How fascinating." Meridwyn said.

"Yes. She certainly was." Gunilda replied, softly.

"Guy and Nichol weren't at your home when George was there to see you… were they?" Meridwyn asked.

"Goddess, no! They were all at the market looking for a person of interest. I bumped into them there and George introduced us."

"How interesting to hear from someone who knew our husbands so long ago, don't you think, Meridwyn?" Rhiannon asked.

"Indeed. The only person I could ask what Guy was like then would be your husband, and he doesn't generally like to wax nostalgic about such things." Meridwyn shrugged.

"Indeed." Rhiannon nodded.

"This… man you're interested in at the moment. Do you… love him?" Meridwyn asked.

"Hmm. I don't know about love. My love was recently buried. I quite enjoy his company, and conversing with him. He's a very attractive man. Smart, ambitious. There's a definite mutual attraction there. Right now we're just… friends, I guess you could say. But, I think it will develop beyond that soon." Gunilda said, then sipped of her wine.

"And… you're sure it's not Milord Sheriff?" Meridwyn pressed.

"Very sure. Why would I be entertaining you ladies if it were him? This man is quite a bit younger than him, and, I think, only a bit older than your husband, Lady Gisborne."

"Oh. I see." Meridwyn said. She took a sip of her tea.

"Honestly, Meridwyn! How would either of our husbands have time to be dallying with other women? They hardly have time for us… or, anything social. They have so much going on at the moment." Rhiannon pointed out.

"Hmm. You do have a point there." Meridwyn sighed, then took another sip of the tea. After she swallowed it, she looked to Gunilda. "And, should things develop with mystery man, what would you do should he propose to you?"

"Oh, my! I've never given that any thought. It seems premature to conceive of such a thing. Honestly, I don't know what I'd do. I'm so used to being solitary. It's usually safer for people like me." Gunilda explained with a knowing quirk of her brow.

"Does he know you can perform magick?" Rhiannon asked.

"Actually, he does. He's seen it. Twice."

"What did he say about that?" Rhiannon asked, curiously.

"He said something to the effect that it was certainly strange and different for him, but, that he doesn't fear me because of it." Gunilda smiled.

"Maybe you should hold onto him, should he ever ask for your hand?" Meridwyn suggested.

"We're a long way off from something like that." Gunilda said. "Now, enough about me. Tell me a bit about yourselves."

The Sheriff and Nichol guided their horses along the path that led to Nottingham Inn. As they drew closer, the Sheriff noticed all of the doors to the rooms had been painted with realistic looking animals, a couple of mythical creatures, and a man on them. The last time he was here, there was one with a dragon painted on it, and perhaps a couple of others with different images — the work of Michael, the local artist, Erasmus said. Now, there was a door with a horse reared up painted on it; one with a lion's head; one with a stag's head; one with a ferocious looking bear; a mermaid; a siren; and one with the silhouette of an archer in profile, his bow raised as he took aim. The Sheriff appreciated the artistic talent as each one was impeccably executed, but he wondered if the Inn was attracting more of Madam Birghiva's patrons as a result?

"Well, this place certainly looks different than when I was last here with Gregor a few years ago." Nichol said.

The men dismounted from their horses and secured them.

"Yes. You know that artist you commissioned to paint the portrait of the fugitive for the celebration on Monday night? He's the one who painted the doors." the Sheriff said.

"Right. Michael. He's very good."

"And, so is Richard, Nic. I don't know if you knew that. Not sure if Richard paints, but his sketches are excellent. I've one of them in my pocket we're going to show to Erasmus."

"No kidding? I knew he was good with drawing maps." Nichol said.

"Yes. Who knew I had two men working for me who possess hidden talents?"

"Two? Whom is the other?" Nichol asked, curiously.

"Luke. He plays instruments, writes music, and can sing." the Sheriff smiled.

"You can't be serious?"

"As serious as scrofula." Nottingham said with a knowing quirk of his brow.

"Damn! Hope I get an opportunity to witness that sometime." Nichol laughed, certain his mate was jesting.

"Indeed. I hope to hear him perform again, too."

They walked up to the main door and knocked, their hands clasped in front of them as they awaited an answer.

Within a few moments, the door opened. Erasmus attempted to conceal his frown when he saw who greeted him.

"Good day, Milord. If you're here about the taxes, I paid Gregor at the beginning of the month." Erasmus said.

"Relax, Erasmus. That's not why we're — "

Erasmus suddenly noticed who stood beside the Sheriff. He grabbed onto the door frame to steady himself as his colour turned ashen.

"I knew there was something off about that soup I was served for the midday meal. Someone has tried to poison me! Now, I'm seeing things — people… who aren't real!"

"It's not an hallucination, Erasmus. I am real." Nichol said.

"How… how can this… be?" Erasmus asked, in complete confusion.

"Long story. Suffice to say, I am back now. Right where I belong." Nichol nodded.

"Duke Farnsworth is still my Captain, for obvious reasons. Nichol has an Advisor role now, and will be training the men." a beat. "Now that we've cleared that up, let's move on to the matter at hand." the Sheriff said.

"Very well. What is it I can do for you, Milord? Is this about the doors to the rooms? Have there been complaints?" the innkeeper asked.

"No. This is about the same wanted man I spoke to you about over a month ago. Remember when I was here with my Lieutenant and Mordrid? We did a search of the rooms, looking for him."

"Yes. I do recall."

"The bastard is still a priority. We had him, but he escaped by starting a cursed fire. Let me refresh your memory." Nottingham said. He reached into the inside pocket of his surcoat to extract the sketch of the fugitive. "Take a good look. Memorize that unfortunate face."

Erasmus took the sketch from him and studied it.

"I haven't seen him since he was here with his henchman. But, I'll be on the lookout for him, Milord Sheriff." he said, then passed the sketch back to him.

"Oh, and just so you're aware, his former henchman, it turns out, was never a henchman at all. He stayed by his side to stay ahead of the cretin's plans. That henchman you refer to is Ancel Ward. He works for me now. He's a Black Knight and one of our top Investigators. If you see him, you shall show him the same courtesy as you would with the rest of us." the Sheriff said, firmly.

"Oh. What an interesting turn of events? Very well, Milord. Duly noted." Erasmus nodded.

"If that malefactor should show up here, give him a room. Be warned: he will possibly show up dressed as a monk, and he'll probably be carrying a blade. Then, you must alert us immediately. If you act as if you know nothing about him and cater to his accommodation needs, we'll have a better chance of capturing him." the Sheriff explained.

"Of course, Milord. That makes sense. Except… would he be a danger to the other guests here? I'm not exactly sure what he's wanted for."

"He has a specific target. You and your guests will be fine. Just alert us right away."

"Very well, Milord Sheriff. Should he turn up here, I will follow your instructions." Erasmus said.

"Perfect. We appreciate your assistance in this matter." Nottingham nodded.

Back inside Lady Gunilda's home, Meridwyn looked upon the lady, curiously.

"Oh. What is it you'd like to know?" Meridwyn asked.

"A bit of your background." Gunilda said. "If you feel like sharing, since, I shared a few secrets."

"Alright. I'll start." Rhiannon said. "I come from Knaresborough in the County of York. Lived there with my father and brothers. We had a good life. My father died when I was young. Then, my oldest brother pretty much raised us. Later, my brothers went off to that cursed Crusade. One was killed in Jersusalem by a Saracen fighter. The other, the eldest, is currently an Advisor and Chief Blacksmith for my husband. I arrived here a year and a half ago, looking for a change. I'm glad I did. Six months later I met my husband." Rhiannon said, then she took a bite of the delicious pastry Gunilda had baked.

"My, how fascinating. You just… packed up and left, all on your own?" Gunilda asked.

"Yes. Rather like you did, from what I can tell." Rhiannon shrugged.

"Hmm. Yes. You do have a point." Gunilda said. Then, she looked to Meridwyn. "And, what about you, Lady Gisborne?"

"Well, I was born and raised in Colchester in the County of Essex. It was just my mother and I almost as long as I remember. I was about six when my father died. I don't remember a lot about him, just that he was a good man and a comforting presence to us. Mother and I moved here when I was thirteen years. I've been here ever since. She moved away, however. She lives in France now." Meridwyn said.

"You must miss her." Gunilda said.

"Indeed. Especially now. She's most distressed to be so far away, but, she's hoping to be here when the child is due to arrive." Meridwyn smiled.

"Meridwyn! You didn't tell me, dearest. That's wonderful. When did you hear that?" Rhiannon asked.

"Her latest missive arrived a sennight ago. I guess… with so much going on, I forgot to mention it. You'll finally get to meet her. I hope she's here before the child arrives. I'd like her to be with me when the time comes. I'm going to need my mother." Meridwyn sighed.

"Naturally, you will." Gunilda said.

"Yes. A mother's ministrations are exactly what is needed at a time like that." Meridwyn said.

"Indeed. I'm sure you'll be most grateful to have her there during that time." Gunilda nodded.

"I wouldn't normally do this, but, I think I've changed my mind about the wine, Lady Gunilda. Perhaps a small measure might be in order, if there is enough of it?" Meridwyn asked.

"Of course. I have plenty of it." Gunilda smiled.

"What made you change your mind?" Rhiannon asked.

"Speaking of Mother coming. It's the reason she's coming that has my nerves on edge. Just thinking about… giving birth. How can any woman not fear that?" Meridwyn said.

"Say no more, Lady Gisborne. I'll be right back with a goblet for you, and we'll pour you a splash of this lovely, fruity wine." Gunilda said. She arose from her chair and went back into her kitchen to fetch another goblet, and another flask of wine.

It was late in the afternoon when Nottingham and Nichol returned. They saw Guy coming out of the Council Quarters as they walked the corridor of the main floor.

"How'd it go at the Inn?" Guy asked as he approached them.

"I thought the bloke was going to pass out from shock when he realized Nic was beside me, other than that, it went well." the Sheriff said.

"He remembered the fugitive. George showed him Richard's sketch of the bloke. Erasmus said he'd be on the lookout for him." Nichol added.

"He's agreed that if the malefactor shows up looking for accommodation, he will give him a room, then alert us immediately." the Sheriff said.

"Perfect. We'll be able to catch the bloke that way." Guy smirked.

"Indeed. That is the plan — if potato bloke gets bored of the forest." a beat. "I didn't see the carriage when we took our horses to the stables. Did Luke go back out with it after he brought our wives back, Gis?"

"Negative. They have not yet returned." Guy said.

"That's a little odd, don't you think?" the Sheriff asked.

"Yes. A little. I figured if there was a situation evolving, Luke would send Safforus to us. I'm just assuming they're having a pleasant afternoon. Especially, since our wives haven't had an opportunity lately to get up to their usual adventures." Guy said.

"True. And, I know it's damn near killing Rhiannon." Nottingham sighed.

"Yes. I think they've missed spending time together away from the castle." Guy nodded.

"So, your wives are good friends, then? That's certainly a plus." Nichol smiled.

"Indeed. They're very close. Like sisters." the Sheriff said.

"Interesting. Kind of like how you two are more like brothers." Nichol said.

"Aye. I suppose, you're right." Guy nodded.

"Perhaps. And, if they're not back here by dusk, I'm heading out there to see what's going on. Maybe even before that. I don't like this when we've got potato bloke on the loose. Not when he has a target on Rhiannon's back." Nottingham huffed.

"We'll go together, George. Robert and Nic can mind things here, since the Duke won't be back until after dusk." Guy suggested.

"Sounds fine with me." Nichol nodded.

"Good. We'll keep you apprised if we need to head out to Lady Gunilda's cottage." the Sheriff said.

The ladies were now quite relaxed at Lady Gunilda's home. Lady Gunilda has just finished stoking the fire and was walking back toward her chair.

"Ah! That's better. That should keep us warm a little while longer." she smiled, then seated herself in her chair. "How's that wine, Lady Gisborne?"

"It seems silly to be so formal, especially since you've been hospita… hospit… hospit…able to us. You may address me as Lady Meridwyn."

"Very well. So, how's the wine?" Gunilda smirked.

"It's sublime. And, it's obvious I've been abstaining. Six sips so far and I'm drunker." Meridwyn giggled.

"You mean… drunk. Yes, I would concur." Rhiannon scoffed.

"Perhaps you should have a little more food, Lady Meridwyn? It might help. I could bring you a cup of strong tea, as well?" Lady Gunilda suggested.

"One more pastry because you talked me into it. That will be finer." Meridwyn nodded, then reached for another pastry.

"I really mustn't keep you ladies too much longer. It shall be dusk soon. I'd ask you to stay for an evening meal, but he's liable to hang me if I keep you much longer." Gunilda said.

"He wouldn't hang you, Lady Gunilda." Rhiannon said, shaking her head.

"Just a figure of speech. I was jesting." Gunilda explained.

"Oh, I see. You're right, though. We have kept you for quite awhile now."

"Thank you for the fine refresherments and food, Lady Gunilda." Meridwyn said. She dabbed at the corners of her mouth with a napkin, then took another sip of wine.

"Yes, and for such pleasant company." Rhiannon added.

"You're welcome. And, you're both welcome here anytime. I'll walk you ladies out." Gunilda said.

Gunilda stood and walked over to a table and took something out of a jar. She held it within her palm and then donned her cape, as the ladies also donned theirs.

A few moments later, they stepped out of the front door. Each pulled the edges of their capes close about them since the air was increasingly chill as the sun began to set. Rhiannon walked ahead to alert Luke as the other two ladies stood near the door.

Luke stood with his back against a tree close to the front of the cottage. His right knee was bent, the sole of his boot against the tree. He was lightly tapping his fingers upon his elevated knee.

As Rhiannon moved closer toward him, she could see he had his eyes closed and was bobbing his head, as he was softly humming and adding in words to a melody.

"La la la la la, the dark side of the moon. La la la la la… I know it's strange… and la la la la la la."

"Luke?" Rhiannon asked, softly.

"Yes?" Luke asked as he quickly composed himself. Then, he cleared his throat. "Oh. Right. Are you and Lady Gisborne ready now?"

"Yes. We'll just speak to Lady Gunilda for a moment longer. We'll meet you at the carriage."

"Very well, Milady. I'm going to let her stable master know. He kept watch with me. I'd like to thank him. He stepped away to patrol the perimeter." Luke said.

"Very well." she nodded.

"The sunsets are lovely here." Gunilda commented, once Rhiannon rejoined them.

"Indeed. Although, I wouldn't think they'd be much different in Derbyshire?" Meridwyn mused.

"Perhaps it's because here is a place for new beginnings." Gunilda mused.

"What a lovely way to phrase it." Rhiannon smiled.

"It's a fact, Lady Rhiannon. Where's your guard?" Gunilda asked.

"He went to thank your stable master for keeping watch with him."

"Saff did that? What a gem he is!" Gunilda smiled.

"Apparently. It's good that he seems quite protective." Rhiannon added.

"Indeed. I do sleep well having him around. He's effective with a lot of things."

"Thank you again." Rhiannon said, as they moved away from the front door, out into the open.

"Yes. I had a… surprisingly pleasant time… indeedy!" Meridwyn giggled.

"You're most welcome." Gunilda smirked, then looked to Rhiannon. "Good thing you came in a carriage. Don't think she'd be fit to ride right now."

"I'll say!" Rhiannon scoffed.

"Ah! Look how pretty the setting sun looks now as it begins to dip into the horizon. Pink and orange. Purple, too!" Meridwyn laughed.

"Perfect. It's the perfect backdrop." Gunilda smiled.

"For, what exactly?" Meridwyn asked.

"For this. Now, both of you ladies pay attention. Look at me, then look up to the sky." Gunilda instructed.

"What?" Rhiannon asked, quite bewildered.

"Are you going to bewitch us? Or, are you going to… kiss one of us?" Meridwyn asked, with her eyes narrowed.

"No. Just the sky, my dears." Gunilda winked.

Gunilda held her hands out in front of her, close to her face. There were a bunch of soft rose petals in her right palm. She cupped them with both hands, then blew them upward.

The ladies watched her in fascination, keeping their eyes on the rose petals. The petals floated up, then continued their way up to about twenty feet, oddly. Then the petals disappeared. In the next moment, the sky filled with twinkling lights above them, in myriad colours, like tiny, glowing, shining stars.

Ladies Rhiannon and Meridwyn gasped, then exclaimed over the breathtaking, spectacular sight.

Luke had just made his way back to the carriage, and couldn't help but notice the glimmering lights covering the sky directly above Lady Gunilda's property. He'd never seen anything like it. He wished Floria could see this.

"Oh, my! It's so pretty! How on earth did… wait? Did you actually do that?" Meridwyn asked.

"Indeed, Lady Meridwyn."

"But… how? The rose petals. They… just disappeared!" Meridwyn gasped, in wonderment.

"T'was magick." Gunilda smiled.

"How did they not… just fall directly to the ground?" Meridwyn pressed.

"It's all magick." Gunilda nodded.

"Who's going to pay the price for that?" Meridwyn asked.

"No one. That kind of magick is free." Gunilda smirked.

"I thought all magick comes with a price?" Meridwyn frowned.

"It's rather nuanced, Lady Meridwyn. Most of it does. Something enchanting like that, which has no use except to provide ambience, however… it does not."

"Oh! How enchantingly!"

"Yes, isn't it?" Gunilda chuckled.

"So beautiful. What a perfect ending to such a pleasant afternoon. You thought of everything." Rhiannon smiled.

"You should do that next time you see the gentleman fella you fancy. He'll be captivated, I'm sure!" Meridwyn added.

"Thank you, ladies. I think I'll wait awhile before I spring something like that on him. It's best to use magick in small doses, especially around ordinary people who aren't inured to such things." Gunilda smiled.

The ladies waved farewell as the carriage pulled away. On their way back to the castle, Rhiannon couldn't help but smirk and softly chuckle to herself at Meridwyn's inebriation. She was slurring her speech slightly, and giggling over every little bump on the road. Then, she began to call out and wave at passers by along the way.

"Honestly, Meridwyn! If Sir Guy could see you now, I'm not sure if he'd laugh, or slap me for letting you get this way?" Rhiannon chuckled.

"I can't remember the last time I felt so carefree, Rhi. Even at your wedding fete I was very careful about what I permitted myself to imbibe. I swear, I didn't drinker much wine."

"I know. I observed. You're acting like you polished off an entire flask." Rhiannon scoffed.

"Maybe it's the wine, and the… magick we saw." Meridwyn whispered.

There was a lull in conversation for a few minutes. Then, they heard Luke humming to himself, adding words to whatever melody he was humming.

"La la la la la, to the dark side of the moon, la la la la la, and I know it's strange, la la la la la la la." Luke hummed. "Hmm. Rhyme something with moon." he muttered. "Right. The moon. It's just a metaphor."

"What's that you're humming up there, Luke?" Meridwyn asked, sticking her head out of the front window, facing the back of him.

"Nothing, really." he said as he briefly looked over his shoulder.

"Really? Ha! I heard you can sing, you know. Rhi told me all about it!" she laughed.

"I'm sure. Sorry. I didn't mean to bother you." Luke said.

"No! Keep humming away you turquoise eyed little devil, you. It's quite… gooder as we take in the nice scenery and… everything! Oh, look! There's a fawn!" Meridwyn giggled, pointing to an area between the trees along the side of their path.

"Don't mind her, Luke. She's drunk." Rhiannon called out to him.

"Yes. I figured that." Luke chuckled.

"Did you two see it?" Meridwyn asked.

"I'm watching the road." Luke scoffed.

"No, but I'm sure it was lovely." Rhiannon smirked, shaking her head.

Luke began to softly hum again, as he was composing a new song.

"La la la la la, to the dark side of the moon, I think I've been, and I know it's strange, la la la la la la la."

"Isn't it a pity when a tune is stuck in your head, and you can't member… recall the words to it?" Meridwyn giggled.

"Yes, it can be." Luke said, trying to stifle his laughter.

Rhiannon sat quietly, observing them both. Meridwyn was probably going to need assistance into the castle the way she was acting. And, she could tell that Luke was in the process of constructing a new song. She smiled. She definitely needed to talk to her husband about what they could do to showcase Luke's talent.

When the carriage arrived to the castle, Luke steered it up toward the front entrance. He saw the Sheriff and Sir Guy coming toward him from the entrance, and waved to them.

The horses were brought to a halt, and Luke jumped down from the driver's seat as the men walked toward him.

"Oh, good. You're here!" Luke smiled.

"We were heading to the stables. We thought something had happened, so we were going to ride to Lady Gunilda's cottage." Nottingham said.

"All is… almost well." Luke sighed.

"What does that mean?" he asked with a suspicious quirk of his brow.

"Seems there was some imbibing going on over there. Lady Rhiannon is fine. It's — "

"Ah! There you are, my handsomer husband!" Meridwyn called out with a wave, as she attempted to descend the steps of the carriage.

"God's nightgown!" Guy muttered.

"Meridwyn, for God's sake! Let Luke help you — " Rhiannon started to warn her, but the scene before her stopped her.

Meridwyn lost her footing and stumbled, falling down the steps and landed on her backside on the ground, laughing uncontrollably all the while.

"What the absolute hell?" Guy exclaimed as he walked toward her.

Nottingham chuckled as he observed the scene before quickly going to assist Guy. Rhiannon walked down the steps then bent down to offer Meridwyn a hand up.

The Sheriff shook his head at her.

"No, my lady. I shall assist." he said softly, yet firmly.

"Wife? What in the devil has gotten into you?" Guy demanded.

He, together with the Sheriff, helped Meridwyn to stand, then Guy took over.

"Wine… and magick, my love! It was… delightfully… fruity… and everything!" Meridwyn giggled.

"It's curious, Sir Guy. She really didn't drink much at all. It was only a small measure of wine Lady Gunilda gave to her, and… this is the result." Rhiannon shrugged.

"Probably because she's been staying away from spirits." Guy said, softly.

"What are you two talking about? We should have a party! Did you know Luke can sang, my love?" Meridwyn laughed.

"No." Guy lied. He didn't want Luke to think everyone was talking about his singing ability when it came out during a private moment he shared with Floria.

Luke shook his head then looked to the Sheriff.

"Safforus will be here soon, Milord. When he learned about the reason I was there, he insisted on keeping watch with me in case I would need backup." Luke whispered.

"More and more he is sounding perfectly suited for the role I shall speak to him about. Perfect, Luke." Nottingham said, softly.

"Hey! Did you fellas see the pretty lights?" Meridwyn asked, excitedly.

"The… which, my dear?" Guy asked, with a look of bewilderment upon his face.

"My lady? What in the devil is she talking about?" Nottingham turned beside him and whispered to his wife.

"She's actually not lying. She's just not making sense because she's drunk." Rhiannon shrugged.

"What the hell are you meaning? What lights is she talking about?" he asked, quietly.

"You didn't see the pretty lights in the sky? Oh, it was a sight to behold, indeedy!" Meridwyn laughed.

"Rhiannon, what the devil is she rambling about?" the Sheriff asked once more.

"I need to shut her up before she tells the whole world about the special things Lady Gunilda can do." Rhiannon sighed, then she walked toward Sir Guy and Meridwyn.

The Sheriff stared after her, a furrow to his brows as he wondered what Gunilda had done while they visited her.

Guy had his arm around his wife, to steady her. Meridwyn held onto him and looked at her friend, curiously.

"What's that look for? What's wrong with you? Come, Rhi. We're gonna have a wee party!" Meridwyn giggled.

"You took a little spill only moments ago, dearest. I think it's best Sir Guy puts you to bed. We don't want anything to happ — "

"Bed, schmed! He can put me to bed — and have me in bed anytime he wishes. Oh, let's have a party, Rhi! I feel like I could fly!"

"Oh, you're flying, alright." Guy sighed, shaking his head.

"Honestly, some of you people are as dull as used bath water at times. You all need to get… looser." Meridwyn giggled.

"Arms around my neck, my lady. Now." Guy said, firmly.

"You gonna do me right here, lover?" a beat. "Sounds like fun!" Meridwyn smirked.

"Meridwyn, just do as I ask. You need to hold onto me." Guy said, shaking his head.

"What the hell for?" Meridwyn asked.

"Because I'm picking you up." Guy said.

Then, he lifted her off the ground, carrying her in his arms, and turned toward the front entrance.

"What are you doing, Guy? What kind of party is this?" Meridwyn pouted.

"The kind where I put you to bed —to sleep it off."' Guy sighed.

"I'll take the carriage to the stables, Milord. Then, I'll perform the evening patrols." Luke said.

"That's fine, Luke." the Sheriff nodded. Then, he looked again toward Guy and Meridwyn, and chuckled. "Not sure if I've seen her like that?" he said to his wife.

"I'm not sure how much she's going to remember of the last hour or so. We both drank the same wine, but she really didn't have much at all. I don't understand?" Rhiannon said, shaking her head.

"If she's been abstaining from spirits, as she has mentioned on occasion, then it makes some sense." he said.

"Perhaps. I guess I just wasn't expecting it. She was calling out to townspeople and waving at them on the way back. Oh, and she called Luke a "turquoise eyed little devil". That was a personal favourite." Rhiannon scoffed, shaking her head.

"Damn. Is she going to have a bad time in the morning!" the Sheriff chuckled.

Mortianna was outside the Wordsworths' door awaiting a reply, as she was summoned to bring batwing tea again. Within a short time, Isabelle opened the door and greeted her.

"This should keep ye going until tomorrow evening, at which time I shall bring ye more of this." Mortianna said. She held out the covered pot to her.

"Thank you, Madam. Although, perhaps tomorrow we could just get on with it?" Isabelle said as she took the pot of tea from her.

"So, you're determined, then?"

"Indeed. It's silly to put it off any longer." Isabelle said.

Just then, Mortianna heard footsteps approaching from the direction of where the staircase was located. She looked to see whom it was.

"Are we gonna have our own party, Guy? I'm feeling great! I'm gonna show ya how great in a moment." Meridwyn giggled.

"Yes. I'm sure. Hush now, wife. We don't need the entire castle knowing about the state you're in." Guy sighed.

"Merlin's wand! You best let me in if ye don't want anyone to know ye summoned me!" Mortianna whispered, urgently.

"What's going on?" Isabelle asked. She peaked her head out of the door and saw Sir Guy carrying a laughing Meridwyn. She gestured for the witch to step inside, grateful that Sir Guy was too preoccupied with his wife to notice either of them.

Once the door was closed she took the pot of tea and set it down, then returned to speak with the witch.

"You're sure this is what ye truly desire, child?" Mortianna asked.

"Yes. That will be the outcome, anyway." Isabelle shrugged. "Have you something in your apothecary that will work?"

"Yes. I shall bring it in the morning. That way ye won't lose a night of sleep."

"Lose sleep?" Isabelle asked.

"Indeed. It's not easy losing a child no matter the stage of your confinement. Ye should know this, unless the four lost to you were painless events?"

"Yes. One was painless, the others were not." Isabelle said, softly.

"There will likely be pain, child. Cramping. Bleeding. I can't say how long that will go on before the process is complete, but t'would be surprising if there's no pain. I can't do anything about the bleeding, however. Blood is a given. There will definitely be bleeding. If I were to give it to ye now, I promise, ye would not sleep for a second tonight." Mortianna said.

"How long does it take to work?"

"That's variable for every woman, too. It could be an hour, or it could take several." Mortianna explained with a shrug.

"What is it you'd be giving me?"

"It's a tea. And, that's all I will say about it. I'll bring ye enough to last ye the day. One cup every three hours or so. As long as ye understand one thing."

"What is that?" Isabelle asked, curiously.

"Whatever happens will be your own doing. Not mine. This will fall upon you, and the loss of your child will be brought on by your own hand." Mortianna said with a knowing quirk of her brow.

Isabelle swallowed, dryly. The witch's words were reminiscent of what she told her in her dream yesterday, which was suddenly coming back to her. Though, the words were a bit softened, it was still the same message. Suddenly, she remembered everything the witch told her in yesterday's dream:

"When ye drink of this, it shall be your deed alone. It will be you who kills your child." the witch had warned her in the dream.

She recalled that in the dream she told Mortianna the child would be lost to her, anyway, but Mortianna held firm.

"The child's fate is in your hands now. Drink of it, and you will kill your child." Mortianna repeated before she faded away in the dream.

"Lady Isabelle? Do you understand what I just told ye? Ye look a bit pale, child." Mortianna asked, interrupting her thoughts.

"Yes. I understand." Isabelle said, softly.

"Good. Look for me again in the morning. Perhaps ye should summon for me after your husband leaves?"

"Very well. Tomorrow, then." Isabelle nodded.

"I wonder why Mortianna was at the Wordsworths' door, my love?" Meridwyn pondered after Guy closed the door of their chambers behind them.

"I think you're mistaken, my dear. I did not see the witch in the corridor." Guy said.

"You can put me down now, Guy. I'm jus loverly!" a beat. "She was there. I saw her. She was there a moment, and then she went inside. Now, why would she be needed by Isabelle, or Robert?"

"You're not fine, wife. You're drunk. I don't know what you were thinking? You could have hurt yourself and our wee girl if there were more than three little steps you tumbled down." Guy huffed as he continued toward the bedchamber.

He opened the doors, then continued inside and walked toward the bed. Then, he gently set her upon it.

"What now, Father? You gonna tuck me in, too?" Meridwyn giggled.

"God's nightgown, wife!"

"Guy, I swear on my father's grave — Mortianna was at their door. I saw her!"

"Then, why didn't I see her?" Guy pointed out.

"Because you were busy minding me."

"Or, maybe because you're seeing things the rest of us cannot. Like… lights in the sky, for instance. Explain that one, Meridwyn." a beat. "I'll wait." he smirked.

"Why must you look so… arousing when you're cross?" she sighed. "There were lights, Guy! Lady Gunilda made them happen! She had… rose petals in her hands. She blew on them and they floated… up and up… way up! And then, they vanished, and these pretty twinkling lights… happening. In the sky above, husband! All kinds of colours! They twinkled like little wee stars right above us!" Meridwyn explained, excitedly.

"Curses! Just how much did you imbibe, Meridwyn? All this time we've been together, you've never once been like this." Guy huffed, folding his arms.

"Just a wee bit, Guy. I swear! I was having tea. Then, at the mention of Mother coming, and the reason for her visit, I… got scared. So, I asked for wine. They were having it. They were finer!" Meridwyn giggled as she doffed her cape, then began to remove her gown.

"Yes, because you've been staying away from spirits, I suppose. You're acting like you drank every last drop of spirits the lady had in her home!"

"Was only a wee, wee bit, Guy." Meridwyn said. Then, she pulled her shift up over her head.

"Meridwyn. What are you doing?" Guy asked, as he licked his lips, surreptitiously. She was now naked before him.

"I'm… on fire for ya, handsome. Come here. Let me show ya!" Meridwyn smirked. She sat on the edge of the bed and spread her legs.

"Meridwyn… " Guy whispered.

"I'm ready for ya right now. Why don't you come and find out?" she said as she waved her fingers, gesturing for him to come toward her.

"Meridwyn, it doesn't feel right. You're not likely to remember this." Guy said softly, yet moved closer toward her, anyway.

"I'm sure I will. I'm dying to feel every inch of you inside of me. But, first… lemme do something to get ya started." she smirked.

She reached out and removed his codpiece, then unfastened his breeches. She took hold of him, stroking him. Slowly at first, then she picked up the pace. Next, she leaned in and took all of him in her mouth as she sucked and licked him.

"Jesus, lady! You're killing me! I'm going to… Fuck! Explode!" Gisborne growled.

"Mmm. You taste good, lover." she moaned as she kept working on him, rapidly moving her head back and forth, as she looked up at him.

Finally, she pulled away. He turned her over so she was bent over the bed, and plunged deep within her.

"Fuck, you're delightfully wet." he whispered in her ear as he moved inside of her.

"Told ya I was ready! Give it to me, Guy. Hard!" she pleaded.

"If that is your wish, my gorgeous little fireball!" he lied with a growl into her ear. She would have to wait for quite a time, well after their child was born for that kind of coupling.

Afterward, she covered herself with a blanket, and nuzzled into him. Within moments, she was asleep. He stood from the bed, then readied himself to leave her. There was going to be a meeting soon, once the men returned from the search. He straightened his clothes, fastened his breeches, then splashed water on his face. He walked over to the bed, leaned down and kissed her forehead, then he took his leave of her.

Guy found his cousin on the main floor. It looked like he was heading toward the Council Quarters. He walked toward him well before the Sheriff reached the door.

"Have the men returned, Cousin?" Guy asked.

"Not yet, but I'm expecting Safforus to arrive. Luke told me he'd be here soon. You should join me since this will be his interview."

"Very well. Sounds great." Guy smiled.

"You're looking particularly cheerful. Is Meridwyn settled now?" he asked.

"Yes. She's sound asleep at the moment." Guy grinned.

"Yes. I can imagine." the Sheriff scoffed as he opened the door, then the men stepped inside.

"I must find out what the hell went on at Gunilda's cottage. My wife told me your wife was not lying about the curious lights in the sky." Nottingham said as his eyebrow shot north.

"Seriously? I just assumed that was a result of Meridwyn's inebriation?" Guy said, shaking his head.

"Apparently, not. Though, I've yet to hear the details. Did your wife provide any?"

"Something about Lady Gunilda blowing rose petals from her hand, which travelled upward — oddly, and vanished. Then, the sky filled with lights above them, or something of the sort. Truly, I wasn't convinced. Her speech was slurred, peppered with numerous odd word choices and contractions. She told me she felt '"loverly", so I was taking her words with a grain of salt." Guy smirked.

"Hmm. Yes, I… see what you mean." the Sheriff chuckled.

Just then, there was a knock on the door. The Sheriff called out for whomever was there to enter.

The door opened and Luke stepped inside.

"He's here, Milord. I saw Safforus when I took the carriage back. I decided to show him in before I complete my evening patrols." Luke announced.

"Very well, Luke. Have him come in, then you can continue with your task." he nodded.

Luke left the room, and within moments he returned, showing Safforus inside. He made the introductions, then Luke nodded and took leave of them.

The Sheriff noticed immediately that Safforus had a disarming presence about him, even though he walked toward them, smiling.

"Good evening, Milord Sheriff. Sir Gisborne. I hope I didn't step out of line yesterday. That… wasn't my intention." Safforus began.

"We were told you were most helpful in assisting with the search of the fugitive we're looking for." the Sheriff said.

"If that were the case we would have captured him." Safforus sighed. "Officer Drake had told me about him on Tuesday, Milord. He was clear in his description. Because of him, I recognized the man. Unfortunately, I was about sixty yards away when I spotted him helping himself to a horse from the Hayward stables." Safforus said, shaking his head.

"It matters not. Still, you went after him, then assisted my men to search further. We appreciate your help." he said.

"Indeed." Guy nodded.

"What is your background?" the Sheriff asked.

"Background?" Safforus asked, curiously, narrowing his eyes.

"Indeed. Can you tell us about that, including your surname?" he asked.

"Alright." Safforus shrugged. "My name is Safforus Forester. I was born and raised in Clun. Don't know if you've ever been to Clun, but, it's a rather… uninspiring place."

"Yes, I would concur." the Sheriff chuckled.

"I came to Nottingham when I was fifteen. Ten years later, I was off to join in the Crusade. Before the Crusade, I worked mostly in construction. I returned home three years ago. I met up with Gamel one day in town. He was looking for a handyman to update the roof on his cottage, and build better stables since his at the time were in an awful state. I've been at the Hayward residence ever since, when he discovered I was also good with horses." Safforus said.

"And, you've obviously some experience with tracking, and fighting, it would seem." Guy said.

"Yes. I did a lot of both in the Holy Land." Safforus shrugged. "But, what does that matter? Am I in trouble for overstepping yesterday?"

"No, Safforus. Absolutely not." Nottingham said.

"Then… what does my background matter to you? If you're wondering if I participate in criminal activity, rest assured — I do not."

"A criminal wouldn't have acted the way you did yesterday, Safforus. A criminal would have turned a blind eye and said nothing about it. You reacted exactly as if you were one of us." the Sheriff said.

"I… suppose." Safforus shrugged.

"Let me be clear why we wished to meet with you. My Captain and the other men on the search team reported to us how helpful you were to them yesterday. We are in the early phase of starting a City Watch. It would be like an extension to the Black Knights, with a strong possibility of someone like you given an opportunity to join the Black Knights in future. Right now, I need men like you out in the town to enforce the law." Nottingham said as he walked closer toward him.

"Really?"

"Yes. You would be perfect for the role from everything I've been told."

"I agree." Guy nodded.

"I am… a bit shocked. I was not… expecting this." Safforus said.

"Can you give me a rundown of your skills?" Nottingham asked.

"Very well. I'm educated, I can read and write quite well. I'm good with a longbow, as well as a sword. I used a crossbow in the Holy Land, but haven't used one since I returned. I was able to fire off four bolts a minute with the crossbow, and I can fire eleven arrows a minute with a longbow. I can run, even though I hate it. And, I'm good with horses, Milord." Safforus said.

"Well, that sounds to me like you're as skilled as some of my Knights. I say some, because not many have experience with crossbows. And, I was told that four bolts a minute means you were highly skilled." a beat. "We are endeavouring to change the crossbow skill level, though, with the rest of the men." Nottingham said.

"I would need a refresher with the crossbow, Milord. It's been three years since I handled one." Safforus said.

"That's not a problem. My Advisor, Nichol, is tasked with training the men to use the crossbow. As part of the City Watch — if you accept, you will be included with the men on the training."

"I see. I am flattered that you deem me worthy for such a role, Milord. I've just one question. Well, actually, make that two questions."

"Question away." Nottingham said.

"The first question is, would I still be able to assist Lady Hayward? I think she feels a sense of security having me there."

"Yes. Not to the full capacity you are now, but, your work with her can continue." the Sheriff nodded.

"Good. I do enjoy working with her horses. The other question on my mind is… who else would be part of the City Watch?" Safforus inquired, curiously.

"Well, that's the thing, Safforus. You're the first man my cousin and I have interviewed for the role." Nottingham sighed.

"Oh. So, it's very early stages yet. I see."

"Indeed. There is someone else we've yet to speak to. He's been recommended by some of the Knights, as well as one of the Council members." he said.

"May I know whom?" Safforus asked.

"Of course. I've yet to meet him, but we've heard Slayer, the security man at the local tavern, would possibly be a good candidate, as well."

"Oh, right. I know Slayer! They're right, Milord. He'd be perfectly suited for it — if he agrees to it. He takes his work at the tavern quite seriously. He's most invaluable there, as you can probably imagine." Safforus smiled.

"Indeed. We've heard that, too. That's why we're interested to meet with him, as well." he said.

"So, there's technically no one else on the City Watch, then?" Safforus asked, suspiciously, with a quirk of his brow.

"Not yet. I'm planning to meet with him soon, however. I'm sending someone to summon him on the morrow. With any luck, I'll be having this same discussion with the famous Slayer by this time tomorrow." Nottingham scoffed, amused that the man with the "killer name", as Drake put it, seemed to be known by everyone. He straightened his expression, narrowing his amber hazel eyes curiously upon the deadly looking bald guy before him. "What about you, Safforus? You've already met some of the Knights, you've met my three top men, and you've also met my Captain. Would you be interested?"

"Yes, Milord Sheriff. It's been some time since I was engaged in anything remotely like that kind of work. I accept. Thank you for the opportunity." Safforus smiled.

"Splendid. I'm pleased you're joining this endeavour. As part of City Watch, you are formally invited to participate in our Town Council meetings. You shall be the first to be our eyes and ears about town, so we welcome your input." Nottingham said.

"Very well. When do those meetings take place, Milord? And… where?"

"Every Monday at mid morning. Right here in this meeting chamber."

"Oh. Alright. Does this mean you wish me to start with this straightway?"

"You're the only official member of City Watch, so… yes; but, we also don't expect you to watch the whole damn town on your own. Hopefully, the number of members will increase very soon. Right now, stick to the area surrounding Lady Hayward's home, and, of course, keep your eyes and ears open when you're in town." the Sheriff instructed.

"Very well, Milord. Consider it done. And… whom, specifically, do I report to?"

"As with all the Knights, you would report to either myself, or my Lieutenant, or the Captain; and if none of us are available, one of the top men: Mordrid, Luke, and Ancel. If, for some odd reason they are unavailable, too, then it would be one of my Advisors, Robert Wordsworth, or Nichol Burgess." he explained.

"Very well."

"We are pleased to have you on board." Nottingham said, shaking his hand.

"Welcome, Safforus. We look forward to working with you." Guy said, also extending his hand in agreement.

"Thank you." Safforus nodded.

"Now, come and sit with us. We will discuss your wages." Nottingham said, gesturing to the large oak table.

Sometime later, as the men were finishing up their meeting, there was another knock on the door. The Sheriff called out for whomever it was to enter.

A moment later, Robert and Nichol stepped inside. They looked to the men at the table, wondering whom was meeting with the Sheriff and his Lieutenant.

"Ah. Forgive us. We can come back, Milord. We were only convening because the men should be returning to us soon." Robert said.

"Indeed. We didn't mean to interrupt." Nichol added.

"It's fine, men. Come. Meet our very first member of City Watch." Nottingham said as he arose from his chair. Guy and Safforus followed suit.

"Oh! Very exciting, indeed." Nichol smiled.

"Men, this is Safforus Forester." he said as he gestured to him. "Safforus, these are my Advisors, Robert, and Nichol. Nichol shall be overseeing your training as well as the Black Knights."

"A pleasure to meet you." Safforus nodded to them.

"Likewise." Nichol said, shaking his hand.

"We are pleased to have you on board. That shall be an exciting assignment, I'm sure." Robert said, extending his hand to him.

"Thank you. It was most unexpected, but I'm pleased that so many here have confidence in my abilities." Safforus nodded.

"Nic, the man tells me he was firing off four bolts per minute with a crossbow while fighting Saladin's Saracens in that interminable, cursed war." the Sheriff said, nodding to Safforus. "He will be trained with the others. What's your assessment of that, when he hasn't used one since returning three years ago?" he asked.

"Indeed. How long would it take me to get my skill level back?" Safforus asked.

"We were told just two days ago by our supplier, a long time bow craftsman, that most crossbowman can only fire two, perhaps three bolts a minute. Any more than that is considered highly skilled. I don't think it would take long at all. A day or two, perhaps?" Nichol said.

"Brilliant! I'd be grateful, Nichol." Safforus nodded.

Just then, the sentry opened the door to announce the arrival of the search team.

"Perfect. Send them in." the Sheriff said.

"Perhaps now is a good time for me to take leave, Milord. I don't want to interrupt business with your men." Safforus said.

"No. Stay a few moments, Safforus. The men need to know about your new role." he said.

"Very well." Safforus nodded.

The door opened and Duke Farnsworth strolled into the room, along with Mordrid, Ancel, Drake, Adam, Alex, and Gerad.

The Sheriff frowned as it appeared the fugitive was not in their custody.

"I take it that was a no for today, as well?" Nottingham sighed.

"Correct, Milord." Duke Farnsworth huffed.

"We think he might still be in the forest, Milord. We found a campsite. The wood ash was still relatively warm in the campfire — " Ancel added, but was interrupted.

"There were a couple of dead rabbits left hanging in a tree there." Drake said.

"We're going to head back at first light, Milord." the Captain said.

"Good. You've all met Safforus yesterday, I'm guessing?" the Sheriff asked.

"Yes, Milord. We did." Gerad nodded.

"Not all of us. I missed that. I was at the portcullis yesterday." Adam shrugged.

"Indeed. Is Safforus our newest recruit to the Black Knights?" Alex asked.

"No. But, that might be a possibility down the road. Safforus has agreed to be our first member of City Watch." the Sheriff said.

"Very good. Congratulations, Safforus. Your work in that capacity shall be invaluable to us." Duke Farnsworth smiled.

"Thank you, Captain." Safforus nodded.

"I knew soon after we met you would be suited for it. That was solidified in how you handled yourself yesterday." Drake added.

"Is this what you referred to on Tuesday?" Safforus asked.

"Indeed." Drake nodded.

"You were a bit cryptic when you spoke of it. I didn't quite understand what you were referring to." Safforus said.

"I had a feeling soon into our conversation." Drake smiled.

"Welcome, Safforus. Looking forward to working with you." Mordrid said.

"Indeed. We all are. You proved yourself to us yesterday. No doubt about it." Ancel added.

"Congrats, Safforus. I'm Adam. It sounds like you impressed the members of the search team yesterday." Adam smiled.

"I appreciate your words of encouragement. However, if I was that good we would've got the bastard." Safforus shrugged. "The fool had a head start on me."

"It doesn't matter. You went after him fully prepared, and then you stopped to report this to my men on the search team. You did everything right. That's why you're our first member of City Watch." the Sheriff said.

"Thank you, Milord. I shouldn't keep you. You've probably matters to discuss with your men." Safforus said.

"Very well. Keep your eyes and ears open. We will be in touch." he nodded.

Safforus nodded, then took his leave.

"We shall leave you, as well, Milord. We understand you have a meeting with the Captain." Mordrid said.

"No." the Sheriff said, shaking his head. Then, he began to pace. "No. You men stay. Have the sentry outside the door summon Luke, Castor, and Emory. It's about time we all convened and… had a little chat." he addressed all of them when he stopped in his tracks.

"With all due respect, Milord, why include Castor and Emory? They are often on portcullis duty." Mordrid pointed out.

"We have more than just potato bloke to sort out. Unless… there's something else about those two that you might know of?" Nottingham asked as his eyebrow shot north, suspiciously.

"No, Milord."

"Good. Go to the door and summon for them, Mordrid." the Sheriff said, firmly.

"Very well, Milord." Mordrid nodded with a sigh, then he turned and headed to the door.

Within a short time, less than a quarter of an hour, the men responded to the summons. They were all gathered in their places at the table. The Sheriff stood and began to address them.

"Firstly, I think it's time I refresh your memory a bit." he said as he reached into the inside pocket of his surcoat. He extracted the sketch of the fugitive that he had shown to Erasmus only hours before. "Men, especially those of you on the search team, this is your target. Pass this around and study that face." he instructed. He turned to his left and gave it to Duke Farnsworth.

"I wish his were a face I could forget." Ancel said, as he nodded to the sketch in Nichol's hand now.

"You will, Ancel. When this is done, he'll become a distant memory. There is one thing about him that had a surprisingly positive effect — he brought you, and Luke to me. I would never tell him that, though. We just need to get the fat fuck." the Sheriff said quietly, with a sneer.

"Agreed, Milord." Ancel nodded.

"May I ask what ye wanted with us, Milord?" Castor asked, gesturing to himself and Emory, who was seated beside him.

"I'm with Cas. We are on portcullis duty most of the time, Milord." Emory said.

"That may change. I've got more than just that unfortunate cursed cretin to contend with." he said.

"Does this have to do with the Priest, Milord?" Luke asked.

"Yes. We must allocate a team to execute a search of his residence, the church, and his groundskeeper's quarters, too. Preferably soon, before the groundskeeper starts destroying evidence — unless, for some insane reason, he was truthful about not being a part of the Jesus cult." Nottingham said, firmly.

"When, Milord? And, who shall be on that team?" the Captain asked.

"The morrow." he said. Then he looked to Mordrid. "You shall lead that team, Mordrid. I'm keeping the Duke in charge of the potato bloke mission."

"Very well, Milord. May I choose who accompanies me?"

"No. You're getting Luke and Castor. The same men who were on the search in Sherwood today will continue their assignment on the morrow."

"Milord? Perhaps it's better if I accompany the Sherwood team? I've seen the fugitive a number of times." Luke pointed out. He hoped the Sheriff would reconsider.

"No one has seen that cretin more than Ancel. He shall be in Sherwood. You will be with Mordrid and Castor." the Sheriff said, firmly.

"Yes, Milord." Luke sighed.

"Do I detect hesitation, Luke?" the Sheriff asked.

"No, Milord." Luke said, shaking his head.

"Just let it go, mate." Castor said.

"Cas. Not now." Emory warned, softly.

"What seems to be the prob — " the Sheriff began to question, but was interrupted.

"No, Emmer. We know what's up his arse. Mister high and mighty Leige Lord over there, trying to exercise his authority over bollocks said in jest." Castor said, nodding across the table at Luke while addressing his mate.

"What in the bleeding hell is he rambling about, lad?" Nottingham asked Luke.

"Beats me, Milord… truthfully." Luke shrugged.

"Bollocks! Ye know exactly what this is about! I see you're suddenly feeling well now, aren't ye? Yeah?" Castor asked.

"Jesus." Mordrid muttered, shaking his head.

"I'm fine." Luke said, curtly.

"They tried to tell us that was the reason ye stepped out of line." Castor scoffed, then he turned to the Sheriff. "The bloke thinks he has all the power. He's got a stick up his arse, I'm telling ye, Milord."

"Alright, I don't know what the hell you two are on about, and I'm not sure I want to know. I don't give a rat's bald arse what your issues are with each other, but you two will sort it out! Do I make myself clear?" Nottingham said, sharply.

"Aye, Milord." Castor said.

"Yes, Milord Sheriff." Luke nodded.

"I will not have discourse amongst my men. You are a team. You need to be able to work together as such."

"Of course, Milord." Luke nodded.

"Are we going to have a problem with you two working with Mordrid on the morrow?" he asked.

"No, Milord." Luke said.

"As long as Mordrid is in charge, I'm… sure it will be fine, Milord." Castor nodded.

"Cas, you need to dial it back a bit." Emory warned, quietly.

"Emmer, for the love of Christ! Ye saw how he acted on Wednesday!" Castor muttered.

"Mordrid and Ancel said he wasn't well. Ease up, mate!" Emory admonished.

Luke looked across the table, scowling at Castor.

The Sheriff sat, shaking his head as he noted the animosity between Castor and Luke, wondering how the hell that happened when they hardly work together?

"Do you have something you need to get off your chest, Castor?" Duke Farnsworth asked with a sigh.

"It is nothing, Captain." Castor said through gritted teeth.

"Really? It doesn't sound like nothing to me." Guy added.

"Perhaps we can discuss this at a later time. In private." Luke suggested to Castor.

"Why? So you can hide from him what an arse ye are? Going on about consent? The hell kind of world are ye living in, anyway?" Castor huffed.

"Decency is an important virtue of a Black Knight." Luke pointed out.

"Sure. Because you're properly perfect, aren't ye?" Castor argued.

"Cas, for fuck's sake!" Emory admonished in a whisper.

"What the hell, Emmer! Ye were there!" Castor exclaimed.

The Sheriff looked to Guy and the Captain who were seated on either side of him.

"It's times like this I wish we had Richard, Nigel, and James back with us." he whispered to them, then sighed.

"No doubt, Milord." Duke Farnsworth nodded.

"We could have them back anytime. It's your call, Cousin." Guy pointed out in a hushed voice.

"Not now, Gis." the Sheriff warned in a whisper.

"I never said I was perfect. Far from it! But, you needed reminding of one of the rules, if you'll recall." Luke said, sharply.

"Luke, don't engage. Not here. Not now." Mordrid quietly warned.

"Logic over emotion, Luke. Let it go." Ancel added.

"The hell is going on?" Adam asked Drake.

"Beats me, mate. It is a bit curious, though." Drake whispered.

"Last week, it was the Luke Show. This week, it's the Castor Show." Alex added with a chuckle.

"Never a dull moment around here." Gerad muttered.

"Rules? Who the hell do ye think ye are being the rule enforcer, mate? Oh, that's right. Says the man who moved up from portcullis duty to a top Investigator rather quickly. Isn't that right?" Castor demanded.

"Maybe if you paid attention to the rules and how things are run around here, an opportunity like that might come your way, too?" Luke argued.

"Satan's teeth!" Nottingham huffed.

"Men! Look, I don't know what the ever loving fuck has gotten into the two of you, but you will sort this… whatever the hell this is — on your own. After the meeting. I suggest you get this out of the way before you head to the Priest's home and church on the morrow." Nichol said, firmly.

"Of course, Nichol." Luke nodded.

"Look at him, Emmer. He's such a fucking bootlicker." Castor muttered to Emory.

"Alright, Castor. We get it. You've got a problem with him for whatever reason. You two will be working together tomorrow whether you like it or not. Understood?" Nottingham said, firmly.

"Aye, Milord." Castor nodded.

"Right. Moving — "

"I don't think ye understand what he's after, Milord." Castor interrupted him.

"Excuse me? What is it you think I don't understand?" Nottingham demanded.

"He's trying to kiss his way all the way up through the ranks." Castor said.

"Cas, What the hell are you doing? You trying to get yourself sacked — or worse?" Emory warned, quietly.

"That is your genius assessment? Ha! You don't even know me. You know nothing!" Luke shot back.

"Luke, What the hell? Ignore him!" Mordrid admonished in a whisper.

"Ye can't even handle a good laugh with your compatriots without launching into some ludicrous diatribe about rules and consent like you're the fun killer." Castor sighed.

The Sheriff noticed Luke was about to respond, so he put a stop to it.

"Here's an idea, Castor. Why don't you look at that sketch that Alex just passed to you, and stop running your mouth off? Nobody cares what your perceived slight is about. It ends now! You will work with Luke on the morrow. You will complete your tasks and put aside your differences! Understood?"

"Aye, Milord." Castor sighed.

"Look at that sketch. Study it." he commanded.

"It's not like I'll see him where we're going on the morrow." Castor shrugged.

"The fugitive is at large, Castor. He could be anywhere! If he's directionally challenged he could end up where you will be. Stop arguing, and pay attention!" the Sheriff huffed.

Castor nodded, then looked at the drawing in his hand.

"Is it always like this?" Robert whispered to Guy, seated to his left.

"No. These last two meetings with the men are unusual." a beat. "Hope we're not seeing the start of a trend." Guy said quietly, shaking his head.

"Milord? What about my assignment?" Emory asked, as he took the drawing from Castor.

"You shall remain on portcullis duty on the morrow with Beric. That doesn't mean you should ignore that sketch like your mate just tried to. All of you need to get familiar with that face." he said, firmly.

"Of course, Milord." Emory nodded, then looked to the sketch in his hand.

"Alright, so we're clear on everyone's assignment? Everyone who was in Sherwood with the Captain today shall continue the search for the fugitive on the morrow. Except for two men, particularly Mordrid, who is leading an evidence search at Father Titlittle's church and manor. And, Emory will remain at the portcullis." the Sheriff said.

Everyone nodded in agreement after they stopped laughing over the moniker he gave to the Priest.

"Good." he sighed. Then he turned to Mordrid. "You and your team will meet me here in these chambers before you head out in the morning. I need to review a few particulars I want covered, but, after this, I lack the inclination to go over that now."

"Understood, Milord. We will meet you in the morning." Mordrid said.

"You want to tell us whom the other exception to the Sherwood search team is, Milord?" Duke Farnsworth asked.

"Not sure yet. Need to take a poll first." he said.

"What?" Guy asked, incredulously.

"Men! Remind me. Show of hands. Who here has been to the tavern in the last fortnight, and can identify Slayer, the security fellow?" the Sheriff asked them, collectively.

Everyone raised their hands, except for Guy, Robert, and Duke Farnsworth.

Nottingham sighed.

"At ease. Now, show of hands of who was there on assignment in the last fortnight?" a beat. "I can't keep track at the moment."

Luke, Drake, Adam, and Ancel responded to the question.

"Right. Tell me, then: which of you spoke to this Slayer fellow the most?"

"I think we all spoke to him, Milord; but, Drake tends to get a bit verbose over there." Adam said.

"I'd agree. Drake would have spoken the most with him." Ancel said.

Luke nodded, in agreement with them.

"Very well." the Sheriff nodded. Then, he looked to Drake. "You're off the search tomorrow. Instead, you will go to the tavern. You will summon Slayer for me." he directed.

"Seriously, Milord?"

"We need more than just one man on City Watch. This Slayer guy is so obnoxiously famous, the whole cursed town, even Safforus seems to know him. We need to get him on board. Do whatever it takes to get him to tear himself away from that pit of a vat of ale over there, and get him over here. Understood?"

"Yes, Milord." Drake nodded.

"After that, you can join Emory and Beric on portcullis duty. Or, if it suits you, you can man the dungeon with Alistor."

"Alistor, Milord?" Drake asked, curiously.

"Come on, Drake. You know whom he means." Mordrid scoffed.

"Oh. Right." Drake nodded, then he looked to the Sheriff. "I think you mean Alfred, Milord."

"Whatever! He could probably use your assistance before the other prisoners get any bright ideas to follow suit of the potato fugitive, since I took Mordrid off that assignment." Nottingham sighed.

"Very well, Milord. I'll join Alfred." Drake nodded.

"Splendid. So, we're all clear on tomorrow's plan?"

The men nodded and expressed verbal agreement.

"And, what about crossbow training, Milord? When do you want me to start with that?" Nichol asked.

"Tomorrow is already planned. Let's make it Sunday. Someone will need to notify Safforus."

"I can take care of that, since I'll be nearby, Milord." Drake suggested.

"You won't be that close. It's on the way to Sherwood. The search team can stop by, and one of them can inform him." the Sheriff said.

"We will take care of that, Milord." Duke Farnsworth nodded. He turned to Nichol. "When should I tell him to arrive?"

"Better make it midday. In case he plans to go to mass." Nichol said.

"You think he looks the type to make mass a part of his routine?" Nottingham scoffed.

"One never knows. Others might have plans to attend mass, as well. It matters not. The first session won't take long."

"I see. Midday then, Duke. Inform him on your way there. Don't wait until you're heading back at the end of the day." the Sheriff said.

"Of course, Milord." the Captain nodded.

"Right. Meeting adjourned." he announced, grateful it was over.

After the men took their leave, the Sheriff, Guy, Robert and Nichol remained behind to discuss further particulars regarding the meeting and plans for the coming days.

"Alright. Do any of you know what the hell that was about between Luke and Castor? Or, do I even want to know?" Nottingham sighed.

"I haven't the faintest idea, Cousin." Guy shrugged.

"I certainly don't." Robert added.

"All I got out of that was that I think they were referring to some peculiar exchange that happened between them on Wednesday. Castor mentioned that day as a reference point. Emory mentioned something about Mordrid and Ancel telling them Luke was unwell, as an excuse to whatever Luke said to anger Castor." Nichol sighed. "My guess is whatever it was happened just after we returned from Fingle's shop. Remember we saw Mordrid and Ancel holding Luke in a peculiar restraint hold, mate? It had to be just before we observed them."

"You saw Luke privately that evening, didn't you, Nic? When you recommended the batwing tea to him? Did he have anything to say about it?" he asked.

"No. He didn't say a word about it. He just said he's still on edge, and still craves whatever drug he took at times. So, I spoke a bit about my experience, and recommended the tea." Nichol said.

"Your experience?" Robert asked.

"Yes. I fell into the same damn trap, many, many moons ago. George and Gis talked sense into me. Even though Gizzie was only a young lad at the time, his observations were like a gut punch. I was treated similarly by Thomas, except I didn't need to be bled like Luke was." Nichol admitted.

"I don't even remember what I said? I remember some of that, but I couldn't tell you what I must have said." Guy shrugged.

"You said my eyes looked funny, and that I'd better step away from you and George because I was sick. Coming from a young boy, that was all the motivation I needed to realize that George was right." Nichol smiled.

"Oh." Guy said. He furrowed his brow as he tried to recall.

"Interesting. I'd wager that helped Luke hearing your perspective on it." Robert added.

"At first, he was angry — until something clicked with him. It might have been something George said to him that triggered a memory; and then, he was most interested to hear what I had to say." Nichol nodded.

"And, I'm glad you shared that with him, Nic. But, now I'm a bit concerned how this will play out on the morrow. Are those two going to throttle each other instead of getting the search completed? They have three places to search. We also need a search of that abandoned warehouse where the Jesus blokes hold their meetings, but, after witnessing the hostility between Luke and Castor, I didn't mention it. As it is, it's looking like Mordrid will have his hands full tomorrow." the Sheriff sighed.

"Indeed." Nichol nodded.

"Are you going to be able to adequately train the men with only one crossbow?" he asked.

"Yes. I'm going to start with small groups. I'll demonstrate how it's used, then they will take turns." Nichol said.

"Good."

"If that's all, I think I will retire for the evening, mate." Nichol said.

"Just one more thing, Nic. Are you fit to accompany Mordrid's team on the morrow?"

"I've nothing planned. I'm up for it." Nichol said.

"Good. Mordrid might need your help reining in Luke and Castor. We'll never get anything accomplished if those two are going to argue, antagonize, and possibly fight each other on the morrow. See if you can find out what the hell their quarrel is about." the Sheriff said.

"Very well. I think it's better if there's an extra person with them to help buffer whatever their issues are about. We'll get the search done, George." Nichol vowed.

"Good. I appreciate it, Nic."

Nichol nodded, and grabbed his walking stick as he arose from his seat. Then, he took leave of them.

"Is there anything else, Cousin?" Guy asked.

"Hmm. There's something that was driven home to me at our meeting; but, it's my problem, Gis." the Sheriff sighed.

"What is that, George?" Robert asked.

"We need Richard and Nigel back. Both are very competent, and that's why I chose them to guard my son. But, this has gone on long enough." the Sheriff said, shaking his head.

"Holy hell! You've finally decided to tell her, George?" Guy asked.

"I must. I'm just not sure when. It needs to be within the next few days. Rhiannon is having nightmares about Sela, every night since this happened. Perhaps, our boy might help her." the Sheriff sighed.

"It's certainly about time!" Robert smiled.

"You offered to help me tell this story to her, Robert. Are you still open to that? I know your wife has been… feeling some malaise of late."

"I haven't forgotten that promise. Of course. My wife and I could help you share this with her. Just name the time." Robert smiled.

"Wait a moment. Is that wise right now, Cousin? We've got potato bloke on the loose, and the Priest told me today there's about seventy five of those Jesus followers in his organization who all have a problem with you and Lady Rhiannon, for some cursed, bizarre reason. Is it wise to bring your son home at this juncture?" Guy pointed out.

"He's only got two men guarding him at your manor in Nettlestone. Here, we have men guarding the portcullis, high walls surrounding the property, and a number of Black Knights. Every measure will be taken to ensure his safety. We need him home, and, we need Richard and Nigel back with us. I'd like to bring James back, too, but he is needed to guard Rhiannon's manor until we get that cursed fugitive we're after." Nottingham said.

"It's going to be good to have them with us." Guy smiled.

"I've missed that little lad. He's such a delight." Robert nodded.

"I just don't know how the hell I'm going to tell her. How angry is she going to be? Will she even begin to understand?" the Sheriff muttered, shaking his head.

"You did try to tell her once, didn't you, George?" Guy asked.

"I did, indeed. It was exactly a sennight before your wedding when I told her."

"What? What happened, George?" Robert asked.

"She damn near laughed her head off. I just wish she would fucking remember… something of it! I thought her labours with our daughter would perhaps elicit a memory for her. Nothing! I'll never understand it." the Sheriff huffed.

"We'll make her understand." Robert said.

"We must. That child is growing fast. He eats incessantly. He can sit up on his own, and can pull himself to a standing position now by holding on to something. He's saying a few words, is about to sprout teeth, and Lady Margaret is convinced he'll probably start walking in the next few months. He needs his family. He needs Rhiannon and I. And, we must name him."

"Of course. I'm glad to hear he's thriving, though." Robert said.

"Indeed. When was the last time you saw him, Cousin?" Guy asked.

"Four days ago. All he wants to do is eat, chew on anything in sight, and he takes frequent naps, apparently."

"Well, good luck, Cousin. I know it's been difficult with the timing of telling her. I'm sure she'll be delighted in the end." Guy smiled.

"Let us hope. I still don't understand how she remembers nothing of it. Nothing whatsoever. The lady is astute. How can she not remember?" the Sheriff asked, shaking his head.

"Didn't you say back then when we found her it appeared she'd been drugged? Also, let's not forget the blood. There was so much of it! At first glance, I thought she'd been murdered." Guy pointed out.

"Dear God! Seriously?" Robert asked, incredulously.

"Yes. He's right, Robert. I guess it's been so long I'd forgotten about the fact she'd been obviously poisoned. We found her just in the nick of time. We had no idea what was wrong. How would we know all the particulars about childbirth? Especially, when there was no infant at the scene? It was Lady Margaret who figured it out when Rhiannon was finally fit for the journey home. Then, she was out of commission for days." Nottingham explained.

"Oh, my." Robert frowned.

"And then, other things kept happening to her. Isn't that right, George? She was ill again in the summer. Didn't she need to be bled?" Guy asked.

"Yes. And, she recovered from that, but, on the night of your wedding, Lady Marian nearly mortally wounded her with a cursed dagger." Nottingham sighed.

"What a series of unfortunate events." Robert sighed.

"And, they kept happening. Since you arrived, Robert. You've seen it. She went into labour, and Thomas was able to stop it. We finally got that sorted. Then, she was injured along with your wife at that abandoned manor; and I was wounded on the same day, and missed four cursed days of my life. Next, Sela was born too soon and died. Then, she was injured again on our wedding night. Every time I thought there was a good time to tell her, hell would break loose." he sighed.

"And, she never hinted that she could recall anything of it?" Robert asked.

"She did for awhile, but it had nothing to do with giving birth. Unfortunately, memories would come back from time to time of her captor and how he… treated her." he said.

"Well, thank God he didn't harm the boy." Robert said.

"And, he left him with the right people, it turned out." the Sheriff added.

"Indeed." Guy agreed.

"Don't think about it too much, George. Together, we shall tell her of this. Just let me know how, and when you want to do this." Robert said.

"Indeed. I'll think about that. I won't put this off much longer." Nottingham said.

Later, the Sheriff strolled into his private chambers and went directly to where the brandy decanter was located and poured himself a goblet of it. Then, he sat near the fire in the den, thinking about the plans in motion to catch the fugitive; the evidence search of the Priest's home and church; and how he would begin to tell Rhiannon the story about their son. The more time went on the more complicated everything was becoming, even though some things were going smoothly; like, having someone finally assigned to City Watch. That was only a start, however. Even if the famous Slayer agreed to be a part of it, there was still others who were needed to also join the City Watch; and, he was still waiting for confirmation from Prince John that the King was on board with this initiative.

He sipped of his brandy, staring into the fire, so wrapped up in his thoughts he was oblivious to his wife who had just entered into the den from the bedchamber.

"Is everything okay, my love? I didn't even hear you come in." Rhiannon asked as she walked toward him.

"Yes, my lady. It's just been a long day." he said as he rubbed his temples with his thumb and forefinger.

"Shall I send for a tray for us, George?"

"Not just now. I'm… not hungry. At all." he said as he took a sip of his brandy.

"Something's wrong, sugar. You look very distracted by something." Rhiannon frowned. She took a seat in a chair across from him.

"All is well, my lady. Do not fret about it." he said, attempting to smile.

"Whatever it is, I'll listen when you're ready. I can tell you're lying, George."

"Fair enough." he said, simply.

"So, you admit it, then?"

"There's just a number of matters on the table that keep piling up, my lady. That is all. I will fill you in on some of it, but after the meeting I just had with my men, I'm not fit for it at the moment." the Sheriff said, taking another swallow of brandy.

"Very well. I'll grant you some breathing room. I'm going back into the bedchamber to read." she sighed, then stood from her chair.

"You don't need to do that, Rhiannon. We've only been wed for three days. You don't need to hide yourself away from me."

"You're sure you don't want privacy, George?"

"Yes, my lady." he smiled. "Forgive me. I would have normally greeted you first, but this time I needed a little brandy. I thought it might help the ache in my head that was starting."

"We should let Thomas know. You hit your head when you fell off that horse nearly a fortnight ago, George. We can't have you returning to the year eleven ninety four again. Saints help us." Rhiannon sighed, shaking her head.

"This is different, Rhiannon. I hit my head at the back, I'm told. No. This is from all the clamour that happened at the meeting. Things got heated between two of the men — for reasons only known to them, and their cursed noise got to me after awhile." he sighed.

Rhiannon seated herself back into the chair across from him. She looked at him and frowned.

"Are you sure, George? Thomas said to report any changes to him, particularly headaches."

"Rhiannon." Nottingham said sternly, resisting the urge to show anger.

"George?"

"I don't need to be mothered. I'm telling you what I know to be true. There's no need to summon him." the Sheriff said, firmly.

"Alright. If that is your wish."

"Indeed, my lady. It is."

"That's fine. But, I'm going to do something for you, and it has nothing to do with being mothered, as you put it." she said as she stood from the chair and advanced toward him.

"Not now, my lady. Neither of us are fit for it. Underneath that bandage, you look like you've been trampled by a horse; and my head is feeling heavy." the Sheriff said, shaking his head.

"Not everything is about that, husband." Rhiannon smiled as she walked past him, then positioned herself behind him.

"What are you doing, my lady?" he asked.

"Just be at ease, my sweet. There's nothing to fear. Close your eyes." she whispered.

He sighed, but followed her suggestion, anyway. After a moment or two, he felt her fingertips on his temples.

Rhiannon began to massage them in a circular motion, then she moved her hands to his neck and shoulders, also kneading his tight muscles.

"My lady… how is it you always know how to handle me? No matter the circumstance, you just instinctively know." he whispered. He breathed in a sigh as he felt his tension lift.

"Because you are my heart, sugar. I'd do anything for you. You did this for me recently. You massaged my arms and shoulders. Remember? Now, you need it." she said.

"Yes. I remember." he said, softly. He took a sip of brandy, then his head fell forward as he felt his muscles begin to relax. She began to massage his temples again.

"Is it helping you, my love?" she asked.

"Yes, my angel. I'm grateful." Nottingham whispered.

"Just ease into it. You'll feel a difference soon." she assured him.

"How do you know about these things, my lady?"

"I watched my father do this for Robert sometimes. Robert would get occasional headaches from studying too much." Rhiannon explained.

"I see. It is helping."

"George?"

"Yes, my lady?" he asked as he settled into her ministrations to his neck and shoulders once more.

"Remember on Sunday, just after we buried Sela?"

"Of course. What about it, Rhiannon?" he inquired as his eyes flew open.

"You asked us if we could see the girl in the distance. Do you recall?"

"Yes, I do." he said. He wondered where she was going with this.

"What did… she look like?" Rhiannon asked.

Ever since Lady Gunilda mentioned seeing a young girl with him a couple of times, Rhiannon thought back to his comment about seeing a girl at the burial grounds. Could they both be the same girl? If his description matched Gunilda's, she would know.

"It matters not. My eyes were… playing tricks on me." he said, dismissively.

"Tell me what the girl looked like." she insisted.

"Very well." he sighed. "She looked to be about nine or ten years. Had dark, shiny curly hair that fell to her shoulders, and floated in the wind. Couldn't tell much else, however."

"I see. Very well." she said.

"That's it?"

"Yes. I wondered if it was Sela. Now, I believe it was."

"I think… that was Sela, too." he admitted.

"Really?" she asked. She stopped the massage and walked around his chair so she was facing him.

"Yes, my lady. Perhaps we should switch topics. We shouldn't speak too much about her. I'd rather you think of pleasant things between now and when you drift off to sleep." Nottingham frowned.

"That's not for awhile yet." Rhiannon reminded him.

"It won't seem like it when you awaken in the night, dreaming of her. What prompted this question that came out of the blue?"

"I've just been wondering if that girl you saw might possibly be our daughter. That's all."

"It will be alright, my lady. You will see." he said.

"How can you be so certain? We just lost our first child recently. We've no idea if I can carry others?"

"We mustn't think of that now, Rhiannon. We will take things as they come."

"Very well. I suppose you're right." she relented.

"No matter what lies in store for us, we shall face it. Together." he smiled.

"Of course, my love. I'm grateful to have you by my side. Always." she said.

"As am I." he nodded.

"But, right now, I'm going to leave you with your brandy, and your thoughts." Rhiannon smiled.

"Where are you going, my lady?"

"Just to the bedchamber. I'm going to read, then I might have a bath. You let me know when you feel like eating something and I shall send for a tray." she said. She bent down to kiss his cheek.

"I'll send for it, my lady. In a little while. Near the end of your bath." he smiled and squeezed her hand.

Rhiannon nodded and took leave of him.

It was going to take time, and probably more quiet tears before Rhiannon could put the loss of their daughter behind her, but, the Sheriff hoped that having their boy home soon will help her. He also hoped that he could finally get this matter out of the way before more trouble could start, as trouble seemed to be an expectation of late. Nothing ever seemed to play out smoothly. Even their wedding day had them both on their guard.

The Sheriff took another swallow of brandy, and was more confident about his decision. Having their son home was the right thing to do. He wouldn't need to guess any longer about the child's welfare. He would know. Each and every day. He hoped Lady Margaret would be willing to assist for a few more days, continuing in caring for his son as Rhiannon adjusted to the changes. He would need to find someone to be his boy's nurse. He would never expect Rhiannon to spend every waking moment of her life devoting the next several years to caring for their child. She shall have her son with her, and he would also grant her her freedom, especially when the cursed fugitive is captured.