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?

45. Chapter 100

A crisp autumn wind was blowing through the window in the den of the Wordsworths' chambers, but Isabelle wasn't caring so much. She had shed enough tears, she decided a couple of hours ago.

It was now clear to her that this peculiar tea concoction that Mortianna had kept supplying her this day was not going to help. It was only three hours past sundown, yet Isabelle was getting low on her supply already. Mortianna had told her that last pot would last until dawn, but Isabelle started sipping from it as if it were ordinary tea. It certainly wasn't doing her any harm. Between that, and the cold breeze blowing in the room to help stay her nausea, she felt more mindful. She found her resolve.

This tea that the witch brought was not going to give her the result she was looking for, but it was not the end of the world. She knew she was a clever woman. She was certain she could contrive of something that would serve to end this nonsense once and for all. There was simply no use crying about the tea not working anymore.

She stood close to the window inhaling the cold air, taking in the scent of autumn leaves, dying grass, and the damp earth, holding her cup in her hand, while peering out of the window. Suddenly, there was a knock on her door. She sighed, for she knew whom that would be. She took another sip of the witch's useless tea, then went to answer the door.

She was a little surprised to see both of them had returned to her.

"Good evening, Sister. I knew it would be you." Isabelle smiled. Then she looked to Meridwyn. "I didn't think I'd see you again this day. You mentioned feeling queasy and having a headache the last time I saw you. I do hope you're feeling better?"

Rhiannon's eyes widened, surprised by the abrupt change in Isabelle's behaviour from the last time she saw her — when she was weeping and trembling, and hinting she can never make Robert happy. And then, she caught Meridwyn's reaction.

Meridwyn stood, staring at Isabelle with her jaw slightly agape.

"Meridwyn? Dearest? You're not answering." Isabelle said.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Pardon me. My jaw was a little frozen there for a moment from the change in you — and from the rude blast of arctic air that just shot out your door onto my face! What in the devil, Isabelle? Are you trying to make yourself sicker? For crying out loud!" Meridwyn huffed. She pushed passed Isabelle and strolled into the chamber.

Rhiannon followed her inside.

"Meridwyn, what are you doing?" Isabelle asked. She closed the door and turned to face them.

"I'm closing your cursed window, Isabelle. At least, most of the way. This room feels like a frozen tundra. Now, you're just begging to worsen." Meridwyn said, firmly. She walked directly to the wide open window and pulled it more closed, leaving it open a half inch.

"She's right, Isabelle." Rhiannon said with a knowing quirk of her brow.

Meridwyn walked back toward them with her arms folded.

"Now, what was the idea freezing out your rooms, Isabelle?" Meridwyn demanded.

"You weren't… planning to jump out of that — " Rhiannon began to ask but was cut off.

"What? You can't be serious? Look, you both knew I'd been feeling nauseous, dizzy — in a right state intermittently all cursed day. I needed the cold air to help with the nausea. Get those ridiculous thoughts out of your heads." Isabelle said. She exhaled sharply, then sipped of her witch's brew.

"Are you sure, dearest? These wild mood swings of yours have me almost more concerned than the malaise you've been feeling. Something is really off the mark with you." Rhiannon said.

"I'm sorry you saw me at my worst the last time you were here. I've since rested and… feel so much better. I actually… think I could eat something."

"Well, we're all free. Why don't we dine together?" Rhiannon suggested.

"That will be nice, Sister. I'll send for some trays to be sent here. Is that agreeable?" Isabelle asked.

"That's fine, Isabelle. But, you sit. You weren't feeling your best today. I'll take care of that." Rhiannon said.

"I'm fine with that. As long as you permit me to get a fire going in your fireplace, Isabelle. Honestly, how have you not turned into a gigantic icicle by now?" Meridwyn sighed.

Drake arrived to the tavern that was just south of the church he'd just come from, by five miles. He quickly secured his horse. He was surprised he found a spot fairly close to the door, since he could tell from all of the horses lined up around there that it was busy in the tavern. He walked toward the door.

Slayer was surprised to see him again so soon.

"You said you'd come by soon one of these days with your mates. I didn't think you meant tonight, right? Where are they? Securing their horses, mate?" Slayer asked, as he began to look around for them. He wondered if the grey eyed fellow was with them.

"No. I've come alone." Drake said.

"I'm not going to have much time to chat with you, mate. That's fine, though, right? You can watch the backgammon tourney! The bleeding Prince — of all people, is currently playing. Second time in almost a sennight! Wish I could observe for a moment or two, but, that's life, right?" Slayer shrugged.

"We need to stop him, Slayer. We need to get him out of here and to Nottingham Castle. The sooner the better." Drake said, urgently.

"What? You can't be serious? When Prince John shows here for a backgammon tourney, nobody can get near him, right? Have you ever seen him play?"

Drake sighed. This was taking longer than he imagined it would.

"No. Can't say as I have."

"He's like a mean dog with a bone, right? He's extremely attentive to it. He's going to be in a right state if he can't finish his game." Slayer frowned, shaking his head.

"Look. Here's the deal, Slayer. There's ten men including the Sheriff, and Safforus from City Watch currently gathered at the church that's five miles north of here. They're expecting rebels to show, who need to be captured. The problem is Prince John will be heading directly there on that road on his way to the Great North Way, to continue north to Newerche when he decides he's through playing his cursed games." a beat. "That will be a problem, Slayer. The last thing we need is a case of regicide on our hands. We need to make it clear to him the matter is urgent. Then, we need to talk to Charlie about getting Blaise to cover you again for a short bit, because the Sheriff needs your assistance." Drake said, firmly.

"Oh. I see. Right, we can talk to the Prince. And, Blaise is around here somewhere, right? I don't know what Charlie will say, though, Draco. He needs — "

"Wait… what did you just call me?" Drake asked, astonished that Safforus accurately guessed a nickname Slayer might assign to him.

"Draco. It kind of suits you, mate, if I do say so myself." Slayer shrugged.

"Seriously? Do I look like a "Draco" to you? Let's just leave it at Drake."

"Fine, Whatever floats your boat, mate."

"Right. Let's go inside and speak to Prince — " Drake started to say but was cut off.

"Oi! Where do you people think you're going?" Slayer called out to the pair of obviously drunken men who were trying to walk past him with a ginger haired, green eyed maiden.

"We heard the Prince was there. Err… here." the first man said, slurring his words.

"Aye, we just wanna have a wee look see. We don't get much exciterment. Although, this lass here might help us with that." the second taller one said, nodding to the maiden as he lost his footing. He tripped and fell into the ginger maiden, grabbing onto her cape and her gown, trying to steady himself.

"Curses! How did I end up with you two? How the hell did you meet Madam Birghiva's vetting standards?" the green eyed maiden huffed, rolling her eyes while she straightened her garments.

"Good to see one of you isn't drunk already. You two blokes were tossed out of here a couple of hours ago. You were carrying on like a pair of fools, tripping over yourselves, waving your daggers about, and one of you retched into another patron's pitcher of ale! You are still barred from entry until you can behave yourselves. Got it?" Slayer growled.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever, man." the first man said.

"Prepost… terrus. It's a tavern, not a church." the second man spat.

"I don't care what you think of it, right? I'm following the owner's rules, and you will, too. You will turn yourselves around right now, and head on to your homes. Sleep it off. We will review your options when you two are sober." Slayer said, firmly.

"Fine, whatever." the first man said. He turned to his mate who had fallen into the maiden. "Come on, Wymond. We'll take 'er back to my place. We can have more fun in a… privater spot, anyway."

"Like fuck you're taking her! The lady stays here. Get lost. Now!" Slayer roared.

"Ye know, for a big mean looking bloke, you're a bore." the second man said. Then, the two men turned and staggered away from the tavern.

Drake sighed and looked to the ground. He was trying to gauge how long this would take to get his task at this tavern completed. Clearly, he underestimated the timing factor.

"Thank you." the ginger haired maiden said. "I thought I was going to be stuck with those losers all cursed night." she sighed.

"Of course. Whom might you be?" Slayer asked.

"Gelldred. One of Madam Birghiva's girls." she nodded.

"We shall arrange to get you back there safely, alright? You go on in and get yourself a refreshment. Looks like you could use one after that, right? I'll sort you out. I need a word with my mate here if you don't mind." Slayer said.

"Very well." Gelldred nodded. Then, she continued past him and entered inside the tavern.

"Bleeding drunks, Draco. On nights like this, it's all the same. Absolute toe rags, I'm telling you, mate." Slayer spat.

"Right." Drake sighed. "We need to go inside and get word to the Prince, Slayer. Urgently… alright?"

"I can't leave this post yet, mate, right? You've seen what happens. You go on in and summon Charlie for me. I'll quickly brief him. We'll get him to send Blaise out here to cover me, and then I'll help you warn the Prince. Then, if Charlie grants his approval, I'll join you. But, before we go, I'm going to arrange to get that nice, unfortunate consort back to the brothel safely, alright? I'll ask her to wait for me, and I'll escort her when I return here."

"If that is what it takes. We need to get moving, though."

"Then, you best head inside and speak to Charlie right now, Draco. Don't delay. I'll wait right here for you both." Slayer instructed him.

Drake nodded with a sigh, then walked past him into the tavern.

Drake headed straight to the bar where he spotted the tall, lean man with dark cropped hair and kind eyes. Charlie was curious when he spotted Drake coming toward him at the bar. He recognized him immediately. After Drake spoke to him, he got another man to cover his bar duties and followed Drake to the door where the two men quickly explained the dilemma of needing to usher the Prince out of there expediently. Then, Drake explained that Slayer was needed to assist the Sherriff just five miles north and he wouldn't be gone long.

"You sure it's just for a short while? Blaise has never handled security alone on a busy night when an event is scheduled. Word of mouth is spreading about the Prince being here." Charlie sighed.

"Yes. The Prince won't be here much longer if he listens to our warning which comes directly from the Sheriff. Soon, he won't be on show for your patrons." Drake pointed out.

"The patrons who will be arriving after that won't know that. They'll still come, thinking they're going to see a royal, and are probably already gleefully betting against him winning." a beat. "As if losing a game of backgammon would break him." Charlie sighed.

"Blaise can do it, Charlie. He's ready, right?" Slayer said.

"You're serious." Charlie said, suspiciously.

"Confident as ever. I've seen him. He can cope, Charlie. I won't stay away long, and it's only five miles north, right. Anyway, I must return. I don't trust anyone else besides you to get that comely ginger maiden home who just walked in. She just had a pair of slobbering drunks hanging off her, who I tossed out of here earlier. Pretty sure the brothel is quite close by, too, right?"

"You're planning to visit the brothel now? Bloody hell, Slayer! What's gotten into you? Celebrating your new role on City Watch? You're not going to the brothel to get your jollies after dropping off that maiden at her home! You'll return here directly." Charlie said firmly, in a hushed voice.

"No, mate. You misunderstood. I'm just dropping her off there, right? That maiden is from the brothel. After what I just witnessed her having to endure, I'm not comfortable sending her walking there on her own. But, I didn't want her to leave with those blokes, either." Slayer said.

"Oh, I see. Alright." Charlie agreed.

"Can you ask this Blaise fellow to cover Slayer now so that we can get word to the Prince? Then, we must be on our way." Drake said.

"Very well. I'll take care of it." the barman nodded. Then, he left them to head back inside.

A few minutes later, a tall husky man with a mop of dark hair came strolling out of the tavern to cover for Slayer. Charlie waited for the two men at the door, just inside of it. Slayer thanked Blaise, then he and Drake went to talk to Charlie.

"I'll go and inform Prince John that you two need to speak to him about an urgent matter, and were sent by the Sheriff. You two wait just behind me, and you can take it from there." Charlie instructed.

Both men nodded and followed him inside to Prince John's table.

Charlie leaned down and whispered to the Prince. The Prince raised his eyebrow and frowned. He said something to Charlie, then nodded. He arose from his chair with a sigh, and nodded to the two men.

"Take him to my office, Slayer. You can explain this with no interruptions that way." Charlie directed, then he headed back to the bar to tend it.

"Ah! Officer Drake, correct?" Prince John nodded to him.

Slayer quirked his eyebrow, curiously. He was surprised the Prince knew him by name.

"Good evening, Your Highness. Yes, you are correct. Come with us. This matter is of highest importance as it concerns your safety." Drake said.

"Oh, my! Alright, men. Let's have a word, then."

Slayer led the way, with the Prince following behind him, and Drake following the Prince. Slayer took them to a hallway near to the bar. They walked to the end of it and down a few steps on the right that led to Charlie's office. Slayer held the door open for them and ushered them inside. Then, he closed the door.

"Now, what is so important that you two would deign to interrupt me in the middle of my game? I was winning, too. I was planning to donate the prize money to the Nottingham Orphanage." Prince John sighed.

Drake looked down to conceal a chuckle. He was quite certain the Prince wouldn't need any prize money to make a donation to the orphanage. He quickly composed himself and looked back to the Prince.

"Your Highness, there is a tenuous situation happening right now only five miles north from here. Your carriage will be in the direct line of fire as the road they're on is the only good option to get you to the Great North Way. The Sheriff, his Lieutenant, the Captain, and several of the Black Knights, plus one member of City Watch, are currently there. The Sheriff personally tasked me to come here directly, inform you of this, and insist you head to Nottingham Castle immediately. He asked for you to please wait there until he returns." Drake explained, hurriedly.

"Right. And, how long will that take, Drake? Until he returns to the castle?" Prince John asked.

"A couple of hours, likely." Drake said.

"Ah! Right. So, a quick wee conflict, then. Not a problem. I'll finish my game and then I'll be off."

"Your Highness, with all due respect… no. I must insist you follow Milord's directive. That was only a guess regarding timing. There's too many variables that can go south on us, if we do not take action now to prevent harm to you." Drake said, firmly.

"Hmm. Kind of Georgie to consider my welfare, I suppose. I am rather disappointed to abandon my game, however; but… Lady Rhiannon will be at the castle, right?" Prince John asked. The corners of his mouth turned up into a slight grin.

"Yes. I'm sure she will be, Your Highness." Drake said, his eyebrow raised, curiously.

"And, whom might you be?" Prince John asked, suddenly changing topics and turning toward Slayer.

"Slayer Martel, Your Highness. I'm the security man here at Charlie's establishment, and also a member of Milord Sheriff's City Watch." he nodded.

"Good for you. A noble endeavour, indeed." Prince John smiled.

"Slayer and I must return to the scene where the Sheriff and his men are, Your Highness. We will do that once you're on your way." Drake said, urgently.

Prince John sighed.

"Very well. If George has asked this, knowing full well how much I enjoy my backgammon games, then it must be quite pressing. Right. I'll concede to this. I do hope there will be no more of these shenanigans blocking off road access in future when I'm visiting this town." Prince John frowned.

"In fairness, Your Highness, none of this was planned. The place they're in position at was not chosen by Milord Sheriff, nor any of the men, but the rebels who are expected to show there." Drake reminded him, resisting the overwhelming urge to sigh and roll his eyes.

"Right. Of course. Onwards, then." Prince John nodded.

The men escorted him out of the tavern and to his carriage where Bardolph, the driver, was dutifully waiting. The Prince entered the carriage, then Bardolph took his seat. He steered the carriage out, then headed in the direction of Nottingham Castle.

Drake and Slayer ran to their horses. They quickly mounted them, with Drake leading the way until they were safely out of the way of wagons and horses coming south toward them.

Everyone was in position at the church. It was three and a half hours past sundown. Mordrid was desperate to light a torch, but knew that doing so would be foolish. He would rely on the moonlight. The men stationed outside of the church were growing restless. Just inside the church at the rear entrance, the Sheriff was pacing slowly about ten feet away from Luke and Adam, who were right at the door.

"You hear anything?" Adam asked, softly.

"No. Nothing." Luke said, quietly.

"Do you know… music?" Adam whispered.

"What? Where's that coming from, Adam? And, why now?" Luke whispered in frustration.

"Someone told us they witnessed you… appearing to write a song. Do you sing, mate?" Adam asked, quietly.

"Ha! No." Luke scoffed.

"Sure, mate. Says the guy who told us Castor slipped on a rug and landed face first into a door." Adam sighed, shaking his head. "That was really dumb, by the way. Coming up with such a tale for the Sheriff."

"Who said we lied to him?" Luke asked, with a knowing quirk of his brow.

The Sheriff cleared his throat. They turned to face him and were startled to see he was now only four feet away from them.

"Anything yet?" he nodded to them.

"No, Milord." Luke replied.

"And, how would either of you know that, Luke? You two were too busy chatting. What about?"

"Milord, I've a plan." Luke said.

"You… do?" Adam muttered.

"Great. And, what is that, Luke?" Nottingham sighed.

"Milord, there's a chimney on the northeast corner of the church. I can get up there. I can alert Alex before Castor can. Alex is close to us. Then, I can at least take care of one of those blokes as the men at the tree line close in. I can stop them before this door is breached." Luke explained.

"Luke, the idea is for this door not to be breached. But, how the hell are you planning to get up on that roof?" the Sheriff asked, curiously.

"With the rope I brought with me, Milord. I could attach it to an arrow."

"Bad idea, mate. You don't want to be doing that sort of thing in the dark." Adam pointed out.

"It's a three quarter moon. I can do it." Luke said, confidently.

"Really?" the Sheriff asked.

"Trust me, Milord."

"Have you looked at yourself in the mirror recently? I did, Luke — until that." Nottingham sighed.

"Let me try this." Luke insisted.

"Fine. Update Alex, and find out if he's seen movement from Castor. You better do this quickly. Who knows when those cretins will show." the Sheriff instructed.

Luke nodded, then quickly exited the back door of the church.

Robert was just coming out of the Council Quarters when he saw the Scribe approaching him.

"Robert?" the Scribe asked, urgently.

"What is it, Percival? You seem a bit troubled." Robert asked, curiously.

"We have a… situation."

"What kind of situation?" Robert asked, pointedly.

"You best go out to the courtyard. The Prince is here." the Scribe said.

"Rather unusual time for him to visit. Or, is this typical for him?"

"No, Robert. It's not at all usual." the Scribe replied, shaking his head.

"Very well. Stay close by in case I need you for any reason. I'll see what this is about." Robert said.

A short time later, he was walking through the front door into the courtyard. The ornately gilded royal carriage was stopped there. Prince John stood outside of it, casually leaned against it. Robert walked toward him. He stopped and nodded in deference to him.

"Your Highness? Is everything in order?" Robert asked.

"Right. You must be the one in charge. One of his Advisors." Prince John said.

"Yes, Your Highness."

"It's Wordsmith, isn't it?" Prince John asked.

"Wordsworth. Robert Wordsworth."

"Right. Well, let me brief you, Robert, because clearly, he didn't, for whatever reason. I was just rudely interrupted at the tavern during an exciting game of backgammon. I was winning. Next thing I knew, Officer Drake, and Slayer, the tavern security fellow and member of City Watch, are escorting me out of there. Their orders came from George. George insisted I report here immediately. I'm instructed to wait here until he returns. Apparently, the place they're in position at is inconveniently located on the cursed road I travel on to connect north on the Great North Way. So, here I am." a beat. "May I come in and wait for him there?"

"Yes. Of course, Your Highness. Follow me." Robert nodded.

At this point, the ladies were descending the staircase, with plans to head outside for some air briefly. Isabelle was insistent it would help with the queasiness that returned a short time after she finished her soup.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into going out into that cold, Isabelle." Meridwyn muttered.

"It's only for a few moments." Isabelle said. "It will be fine."

Rhiannon was in front of them. She was the first to step off the stairs and turn left towards the front door. She stopped in her tracks, then abruptly turned and ushered her sisters in law back up the stairs.

"What are you doing, Rhiannon?" Meridwyn asked, surprised by Rhiannon's behaviour.

"Hush, Meridwyn. Come on, ladies. We're going back." Rhiannon whispered.

"Whatever for?" Meridwyn asked.

Isabelle suddenly saw the reason for Rhiannon's reaction.

"What in heaven's name is he doing here?" Isabelle whispered.

"What?" Meridwyn asked. Then she turned to direct her attention where Isabelle was looking. "What in the devil?" she muttered.

"That's what I'd like to know, but I'd prefer George be present when he comes by. The absolute gall of him to come by at this time of night!" Rhiannon exclaimed in a whisper. "Come. I haven't the energy to deal with his brand of bollocks. Let's go." she sighed, then headed up the staircase.

"Rhiannon. What if… he's here to give news of George and Guy?" Meridwyn asked. Her eyes widened in fear, and she began to tremble.

"He wouldn't, Meridwyn. There's many of the men with them. It wouldn't be him. That sort of news would fall to the Captain, or the top men. Barring that, it would be one of the men. And anyway, George and I didn't survive through all of the rubbish in the last fortnight for him to go out in some silly mission, or whatever the hell it is they're up to. I didn't endure nearly losing him forever, then being a stranger to him for four days for that to happen now. If it's anything pressing, Robert will tell us. Let's go." Rhiannon instructed.

"Maybe it's important, though, Rhiannon? As the wife of the Sheriff, shouldn't you at least greet him?" Isabelle asked.

"He's the fool who shot my husband with an arrow. He let go of that arrow during a moment of heavy fog when he didn't have a clear view. Now, you don't need to be a world class archer to know that that's the stupidest thing you could possibly do. Screw him and his brand of total codswallop." Rhiannon whispered, shaking her head.

She started to head up the stairs, motioning for the ladies to follow her. They gave each other a look, then they shrugged and followed her lead. They made it to the top of the staircase, unnoticed by the Prince as Robert showed him inside.

Everyone was still in position at the church. Except, this time, Luke was crouched on the northeast corner of the roof, having managed to scale the wall and the chimney. He secured one end of the rope to an arrow. It took three attempts before it worked. Alex was crouched behind a tree and a large woodpile beside it, fifteen feet or so directly in front of the back door of the church where the Sheriff and Adam were waiting behind. Alex directed his attention to the area where Castor would be coming from, and also to Luke. Besides Luke assuring him that he could alert him quicker than Castor, Alex was still trying to figure out what Luke's plan was beyond that.

Luke had his eyes focused on Mordrid, and was listening. Finally, he could hear horses approaching coming from the north. He saw Mordrid stop to use his spyglass, then he turned and faced Castor.

"Alex!" Luke called out.

Alex stood and looked up to Luke.

"There's people coming. Alert Milord Sheriff." Luke called out to him.

Alex nodded then went to the door.

Mordrid ran back to Castor, and the two went running behind the church. They informed Alex it appeared the men were heading to the north side of the church.

A group of three men arrived. Two on horseback, the other steered a wagon, heading toward the north side of the church.

The Sheriff and Adam waited outside the door. The Sheriff directed Alex to resume his position behind the tree and woodpile. He nodded for Adam to follow him to hide behind the southeast corner of the church, on the south side.

Luke heard more horses approaching from the south, as the two men dismounted from their horses and one stepped down from the wagon. The three men looked toward the road. Then, Luke could see two horses coming. He called out to Alex.

"Drake and Slayer are here. Alert the Sheriff." he called down.

Alex ran to the southeast corner and informed the Sheriff.

"Curses! What took them so long?" he muttered.

"Drake will handle it, Milord. He's good." Alex said.

Then, suddenly, they heard a voice roaring out.

"Oi! What the hell do you blokes think you're doing?"

"Is that… Slayer?" Adam asked, quietly.

"Satan's teeth! He's going to blow the entire operation!" Nottingham muttered.

"Slayer! Wait!" Drake called as he followed after him.

"Calm down, Draco. I got this." Slayer called back.

"Slayer? Is that you?" one of the men called out.

"The one and only. What is going on here?" Slayer asked, nodding to the wagon.

"We're here to pick up our weapons. For that rebellion we told you about." the shorter man said.

"Right. You mean that rubbish Jesus cult you tried to recruit me to." Slayer scoffed, then regarded him with a knowing quirk of his brow.

"Shouldn't you be at the tavern?" the first man asked.

"Yeah. Funny thing about that, mate, right? I was there." Slayer began, then dismounted from his horse. "But then, duty called."

"Duty? Are you drunk, man? Your duty awaits you five miles or so south of here."

"Sure it does. And, now that I'm on City Watch, duty brought me here. Isn't that a funny thing, right?" Slayer said. Then, he charged the man and punched him in the face, knocking the man backward.

The man fell to the ground, unconscious.

"Curses! Go, Merek! Go get them weapons." one of the men said.

"You jesting, Everard? There's two of them to deal with!" Merek pointed out.

"Big deal! As if we can't handle two! Go! I'll deal with — "

"Will you, now?" Drake said softly into the enforcer, Everard's ear as he grabbed him from behind in a chokehold and held his blade to his throat.

Merek ran toward the back.

Luke called out to Alex.

"They got two of them, Alex! One is coming. Alert the Sheriff. Now! I'll try to tackle the fool." Luke called down to him.

Alex went to carry out the task, as the men at the tree line quickly advanced from there.

"What the hell is Luke doing?" Nichol asked the men with him as he pointed up to the roof of the church.

"Pretending to be Hood swinging off vines, except he's swinging down on a rope." Duke Farnsworth said, shaking his head.

"Let's go. Where there's one, there will be more. I heard horses coming after those blokes showed up. Hopefully, that was Drake and Slayer." Guy said.

"Where shall I be, Sir Gisborne?" Safforus asked.

"Stay with us. I'll keep you apprised." Duke Farnsworth said

Luke swung down from the rope which was well secured at the top, just as Merek Busby was approaching the northeast corner of the church. Luke held on until just the right time, then jumped on him, forcing Merek to the ground.

The two got into a scuffle for a few moments as the rest of the men arrived. Merek pulled a dagger from his boot and was pointing it toward Luke's throat when something sharp touched his own neck.

"I'd drop that silly little blade of yours right now if I were you. Otherwise, you'll never see that entire flock of offspring you've managed to sire… grow up." the Sheriff hissed, pointing the blade of his new sword at Merek's throat.

At this point, all of the men present except for Drake and Slayer, surrounded him, most with weapons pointed in his direction.

Merek sighed and dropped the dagger. Luke pulled more rope from the pocket of his surcoat and used it to tie the man's wrists behind his back.

Guy stepped forward. He reached down and picked up the dagger from the grass. He looked to Merek and sneered as he spoke.

"I'll take that." Guy said.

"Indeed." the Sheriff grinned.

"Let me guess. So you can add it to the rest? Who ratted us out?" Merek demanded.

"You had to have had some idea that the four of your fellow Jesus cult followers, plus that Priest… hmm. Name escapes me just now." Nichol began, and shrugged.

"Father Titlittle." the Sheriff smirked.

"Right. That guy." Nichol said, then turned back to Merek, who was struggling against Luke, trying to break free. "You know the ones I refer to — they're currently sitting in the dungeon. Surely, it crossed your mind they would be questioned? Odds were favourable that one of those five were going to crack, and tell us about the weapons." Nichol said smoothly, effectively taking the heat off of Kaeliss.

"That would require thought, Nic. And, the point you made is mathematical, which is a topic he obviously never grasped." the Sheriff sighed.

"He's right. What's wrong with you? Can't you give your wife a break from time to time? Or, at least learn how to pull out before you release? I see what kept you busy the three years I was away." Nichol scoffed at Merek.

"What's up with you? I thought you were dead?" Merek asked.

"Aye. So did I for awhile." Nichol muttered.

At this point, Slayer was approaching quickly from the north side of the church. He joined the men who were gathered at the scene.

"Ah. Good, Slayer. This is how we do it. Luke detained him and we're taking him back with us." the Sheriff said, nodding to Merek. "Where's Drake?"

"Well, we took care of the other two blokes, right? I knocked one out with my fist. He's still on the ground. Draco got the other bloke, right? It was epic, it was." Slayer said, proudly.

The Sheriff was surprised to hear Slayer use a nickname for Drake which Safforus uncannily predicted not very long ago.

"Yes. It sounds like it. That's fine, Slayer. Where's Drake?"

"He's minding the two blokes, Milord. They're both tied up. One hasn't woken up yet, though. We're going to need to transport him in that wagon." Slayer suggested.

"And, what do you propose I do with him once the wagon stops near the stables at Nottingham Castle? Are you suggesting we carry the cretin into the castle, then down into the depths of the dungeon, lay him on a cot, and call for a healer to see to him?" the Sheriff asked, facetiously.

"Uh… sorry, but… I just figured that's what might happen. All except the healer part, right?" Slayer shrugged.

"Take care of the one you knocked to the ground. Whether it's you, or Drake matters not. Deal with it." he said.

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

"Go. You and Drake can decide who shall perform the deed. We'll be meeting you there soon." he said to Slayer, ignoring the prisoner's plight.

Slayer nodded and took leave to carry out the order.

The Sheriff looked again to the prisoner.

"Are more of you brainwashed cretins expected here tonight?" he demanded.

"No. They're expecting us, though. When we don't turn up, they'll come looking. Killing one of us now just proves Father Tuttle was right."

"Nobody asked for your opinion, Busby. If you had any common sense between your ears you would never have gotten mixed up in this bollocks. You've got a whole colony of runts you're supposed to be raising! Unless, your only goal is to colonize the shire?" a beat. "You'll get your chance to speak when you're interrogated in my dungeon. In the meantime, shut it!"

"Let him go! There's no need to kill him!" Merek shouted.

"Keep this up and you'll be introduced to my tongue snippers." the Sheriff seethed.

Luke pulled Merek up from his knees. The prisoner tried to pull away from him.

"Stop resisting, you fool!" Luke said, evenly.

"Take him to where the other prisoner is, Luke. Adam and Alex, you go with him. The rest of us will join you in a moment." Nottingham directed them, then sheathed his sword.

"Shouldn't we give Drake and Slayer more time to — " Alex started to inquire, but was cut off.

"No. If it hasn't been done as yet, that's fine. Busby can watch."

"What? You're just as black hearted as ever!" Merek spat.

"Shut it, you demon seed spreader!" Nottingham roared. He sighed and looked around to the men. "Someone gag him with something. Unfortunately, we need answers from this fool, or I'd permanently take care of his interminable rambling now."

Nichol pulled a handkerchief from the inside pocket of his surcoat and advanced toward the prisoner. He positioned himself behind him, placing it over the prisoners mouth, then tying it in back of his head.

Luke and the two men took him away.

"Shall I search that wagon they brought, Milord?" Mordrid asked.

"Yes. Take Castor with you." he said.

Mordrid nodded. He and Castor left to carry out the task.

"He said more would come, Cousin. Maybe not tonight, but — " Guy started to say, but was interrupted.

"Indeed. They'll return. Then…what?" Nichol asked.

"Then, we'll be ready. We shall return tomorrow just after dusk. The absent weapons will lure them out of hiding." the Sheriff said.

"Same men?" Duke Farnsworth asked.

"I've reassigned Luke and Castor for the next two days. They can have the option of participating in Nic's training session at midday tomorrow if they wish, but they were out of line this afternoon, and they need to learn from it. Other than that, the only difference I foresee is the addition of Gerad and Ancel, and we likely won't have Slayer, or Safforus." he said.

"I'm available if you need me, Milord." Safforus nodded.

"Good to know, Safforus. Join us if you can."

"Very well." Safforus agreed.

"What are we doing with that wagon after Mordrid and Castor search it, Milord?" the Captain asked.

"We're putting the body of the dead Jesus rebel in back of it, then we're burning it." he said.

"As you wish, Milord." Duke Farnsworth nodded.

The Sheriff instructed Luke, Drake, Adam, and Alex to go ahead of them and escort the two prisoners to the dungeon. Before they left, Luke informed the Sheriff that the prisoner Drake secured was Everard Nesdin. The Sheriff was pleased that he'd captured one of the remaining enforcers in the rebellion.

Mordrid and Castor reported the wagon was completely empty. The body of the third rebel, whom it was reported that Slayer took care of, was placed in the wagon. Then, Mordrid drove the wagon to a remote location close to Sherwood at the Sheriff's command, to burn the wagon with the body in it. Castor was assigned to go with him to take Mordrid's horse, and also for reinforcement for Mordrid. They were instructed to bring back the horses that pulled the wagon.

The Sheriff commended the two City Watch members for participating in assisting them. Slayer and Safforus took their leave after Mordrid and Castor left.

"Well, looks like the only thing left to do is decide what we're doing with these two remaining horses the prisoners rode in on." Guy said.

"Indeed. Mordrid and Castor are bringing the other two back. We'll take one of these." the Sheriff said.

"What about the other one, George? Both are fine and healthy." Nichol pointed out.

"I was thinking we could leave that horse for Fladius." the Sheriff nodded.

"Wouldn't that put a target on his back, though? Some of those fools, if not all of them, know that he's the groundskeeper here. Won't they wonder why one of their men's horse is here?" Nichol asked.

"Hmm. You do have a point. Fine. We'll take them both. The Page knows where Collin lives. We'll get the address from him and deliver the horse there for Fladius." the Sheriff said.

"George, I know where Collin lives, too. Our team was at his manor today, fact checking Fladius' story if you recall." Nichol reminded him.

"Right. That detail escaped me. Is it far from here?" he asked.

"No. Not that it matters. It's on our way. Ten homes south of here on the west side of the road." Nichol nodded.

"Very well. You will take one to Collin's home, and explain it's for Fladius." he said. Then he turned to the Captain. "Duke, you will bring the other to the castle. If any more of those blokes come looking for the ones who were here, they won't know a damn thing."

"Very well, Milord." Duke Farnsworth nodded.

Nichol and Duke Farnsworth rounded up the horses they were assigned to look after, then mounted their own. The Sheriff and Guy mounted theirs and they all began to make their way south on the road. After a couple of miles, Nichol turned right into the lane leading to Collin's home, telling the Sheriff he'd catch up with him later. The rest continued on to Nottingham Castle.

Robert was walking the Prince back to the Council Quarters after the two visited the Dining Hall. The Prince enjoyed a couple of goblets of wine, while Jean Louis kept them fed.

"Must we head back there now? At least there was a small measure of merriment in the Dining Hall." the Prince sighed.

"I imagine they'll be arriving soon. We'll wait a bit, and if nothing happens we can always revisit the Dining Hall." Robert said, attempting to placate him.

"Right. Very well. Where is everyone, anyway?"

"Your Highness, many of them accompanied Milord on this brief mission." Robert said.

"Brief? My left bollock, it's brief." Prince John sighed. "No. I mean… where are Lady Nottingham, Lady Gisborne, and your wife, Robert? How have we not run into any of them?"

"I'm guessing they are together. They probably chose to dine together somewhere. Since their men are all occupied, I'm sure that's what they decided to do." Robert said.

"Heavens, this is boring! Has he a chess board around here somewhere? Anything like that?" Prince John asked as they finally made it to the door.

"I have never seen anything like that lying around. In fact, the only time I've ever known him to enjoy a moment of leisure was when he went hunting… with you, Your Highness." Robert shrugged, then opened the door.

The Prince stepped inside the meeting chamber, then Robert followed, closing the door.

"Tonight was the last bit of excitement I was going to enjoy for nearly a fortnight. That's where my frustration comes in." Prince John said.

"I see. I could ask Percival if there's such a thing around here somewhere?"

"Splendid!" a beat. "Who is Percival?"

"Milord Sheriff's Scribe, Your Highness." Robert said.

"Isn't that funny? I've never heard anyone refer to him by name. I would sometimes guess what it was. He sort of looks like an Amis, or Basil, or maybe a Walter to me. Never would have guessed it was Percival."

"Yes, Your Highness." Robert sighed.

"Right. Will you send for him now to find out?"

"Very well, Your Highness." Robert said, then headed to the door.

"Oh, Robert?"

"Yes, Your Highness?" Robert asked, turning to face him.

"Do be a gem and summon for more wine to be delivered, won't you?"

"Of course, Your Highness." Robert smiled with a nod. Then he turned to open the door and exhaled a sigh.

Once the wine came and Prince John was pacified with another goblet of it, Robert excused himself, instructing the Prince to wait. He explained he knew of someone else to ask about a possible chess board since Percival couldn't provide an answer about it.

The Prince agreed and Robert went on his way.

He suspected that at the very least, his sister might be visiting Isabelle, so he went to his chambers. He was a bit surprised to see his wife appeared to be doing better, and was visiting both Rhiannon and Lady Meridwyn.

"Robert? Are they back now, dearest? Is that why you're here?" Isabelle asked as she walked over to greet him.

"Not yet, my love." he said as he kissed her cheek. Then, he looked to Rhiannon.

"Good. I'm glad you're here. Does George have a chess board lying about somewhere, Sis? If so, where would he keep it?"

"What? Does he look like the kind of man to you who could sit still for who knows how long, playing chess?" Rhiannon asked, incredulously.

"I take it that's a no, then?" Robert sighed.

"Does this have to with the Prince? We saw him. I was hoping he'd be gone by now." Rhiannon said.

"George got word to him to come here for his own safety. The place they are at is right on the road he'd be taking to connect to the Great North Way to take him north to Newerche." Robert explained. He shook his head and sighed. "His backgammon game was interrupted at the tavern. I've managed to placate him with some food and a few goblets of that inferior wine he prefers which George keeps on hand for him." a beat. "Couldn't you ladies come and greet him? It may help." Robert asked.

Rhiannon quirked her eyebrow, and regarded him with an incredulous stare.

"He has asked for you lad — "

"Then… no." she said, flatly.

"Really? Just like that." Robert sighed.

"Yes. Just like that, Robert. We're here for Isabelle. If you recall, she had a very bad day today. The last thing we need is to subject ourselves to him, especially with a few goblets of wine in him." Rhiannon pointed out.

"Right. I suppose you raise a good point. Very well. I guess I'll get back to him and keep him occupied." Robert said.

"Good luck with that, Robert." Meridwyn smirked.

"Indeed. I might need it." Robert said. Then he took leave of them.

Nichol had just exited the lane from the artist, Collin's manor. He hesitated a moment, contemplating whether turning left to go back north was such a good idea at this time? He thought about it, then headed back north, hoping Kaeliss might still be awake, and receptive to him coming by once more. She did ask him to return, he reasoned.

Fladius and his family thanked him, and extended their gratitude to the Sheriff for his generosity. They were taken aback by it. Particularly Fladius, and his daughter in law. They'd never dealt with the Sheriff in the past, but they were there when the Sheriff was a different man.

Nichol was struck by his observations this day of his mate. He'd witnessed all manner of reactions from the Sheriff ranging from behaving like the man he used to know — ruthless, dangerous… to the logical, thoughtful man who was accomadating. The way he handled Castor and Luke. Nichol knew there was no way a matter like that would have been handled nearly as reasonably as how George managed it this day, if it occurred three years previous. Also, Nichol was surprised he gave one of the horses to Fladius. He saw more facets of him in one day then he could recall noticing in years passed.

The moonlight guided him as he headed north on the road. He slowed the horse and steered it right, to the east, into the lane leading to Lady Kaeliss' manor.

Some moments later, after securing his horse, he walked the cobblestone path to her door and knocked.

She opened it and smiled up at him.

"Oh, good. You're safe." Kaeliss said.

"Of course, my lady." he smiled, then he took in her apparel. "Were you going somewhere? You're wearing your cape."

"No. I threw it on before I answered your knock, to cover myself." she frowned.

"But, why… wait. Are you… totally natural under there, or — "

"I'm wearing my dressing gown, Nichol. Had no time to dress. I took a bath while you were busy." Kaeliss shrugged.

"Look, I know it's late. I just wanted to see you again for a few moments." Nichol said.

"Come in, Nichol. It's cold out there." Kaeliss smiled.

He nodded and stepped inside.

"Can I get you something to drink?" she asked.

"Perhaps just a cup of tea, if that's alright?"

"Of course, Nichol. Seat yourself by the fire. I'll return with the tea." she smiled.

Nichol relaxed on the sofa with his head tilted back. He closed his eyes as he felt the warmth from the fire soothe him.

A few minutes later, she returned with two cups of tea. She didn't think he'd care very much if she poured it from a pot. She set the cups down on the table in front of him, then seated herself beside him.

"I'm glad you came back, Nichol." she smiled.

"I almost didn't." he said.

"Why?"

"I don't want to ruin this. I was planning to continue in the direction I was headed, toward the castle. Instead I turned in the opposite direction and headed to you." Nichol said as he took a sip of the hot tea.

"What do you mean by ruin, Nichol?"

"My lady, we're still getting acquainted. A gentleman wouldn't have knocked so late in the evening."

"Whatever, Nichol. Who cares what they do? I'm still glad you came."

"I am, too, my lady." a beat. "So, are you keeping that cape on?"

"That depends. For now, I will." she nodded.

"Were you planning to retire when I arrived?" he asked.

"No. I was… waiting for you. I just lost track of time in the bath."

"Really? You were waiting for me?"

"Yes, Nichol. I was hoping you'd come back." Lady Kaeliss smiled, then took a sip of her tea. "I suppose… I already said something to that effect."

"It's fine. I understand." Nichol smiled. "Tell me. How is it you ended up here from London? You mentioned you moved here with your father.

"Yes. Well, thank God that plan went up in smoke." Kaeliss sighed.

"What plan?"

"The ridiculous arranged marriage Father had tried to set in motion. The intended died unexpectedly while we were en route here. Then, we got settled in, and Father passed away from the flux three months later. Luckily, my Aunt was nearby." Kaeliss said.

"I'm sorry to hear that, my dear." Nichol said.

"It's fine, Nichol. Thank you, but you don't need to be. Things are working out nicely."

"Yes. They certainly are." he smiled.

"That assignment you were just on. Was it… dangerous, Nichol?"

"Ones like that present an element of danger. But, we're all trained to handle it." Nichol nodded, then sipped of the tea.

"So, there was danger, then? I see."

"This was more of a usual thing for me when I was Captain. In my current roles, most of the work will be at the castle, my dear. Tonight's mission was unexpected for all of us. I was there to assist. My capabilities are limited now." Nichol frowned, then sipped of his tea.

"You don't seem incapable to me, Nichol." she said.

"I appreciate you saying — "

"Would you like some wine?" she asked, abruptly changing the topic.

"That would be good, if you're having some, my dear." Nichol smiled.

Kaeliss stood from the sofa. "I'll be right back, Nichol. Sit tight." she smiled.

Nichol looked at her curiously, then watched her walk away. She returned a few moments later. He was stunned. She had doffed her cape. She was wearing a dark blue velvet dressing gown that was belted with a long sash. She carried the flask of wine and two goblets. As she moved closer toward him, he could see she wasn't wearing a shift underneath the dressing gown. He tugged at the collar of his tunic, suddenly feeling warm.

"We might just as well properly relax. Don't you think?" Kaeliss suggested.

"Of course, Kaeliss. I agree." he nodded.

She poured the wine into the goblets, and they both took them and began to sip from them, each gazing into each other's eyes.

"Drink up, Nichol. You worked hard, no doubt." Kaeliss smiled.

He took a generous swill then set his goblet on the table. Then, he took her hand in his, and softly kissed it.

"Don't know why it took you so long to remove that cape. You're beautiful, my lady." Nichol said, quietly. His green eyes smouldered as he gazed into hers.

Kaeliss could wait no longer. She set her goblet on the table, then deftly unfastened the sash of her dressing gown, letting it fall open.

Nichol looked at her and softly gasped as he beheld her beauty, instantly hardening for her. Then, she surprised him by swiftly straddling him as the dressing gown fell from her shoulders. She shook out of it and began to kiss him, the deep blue velvet dressing gown pooling on the floor at his feet.

"Nichol." she whispered, longingly.

"You sure you want this, my lady?" he asked, breathlessly.

She reached down and began to massage him. He closed his eyes and sighed. He was dying to take her

"Yes." she whispered.

She unfastened his codpiece and tossed it aside, then she unfastened his breeches. She took a hold of him and worked him into a frenzy over the course of several minutes while kissing him, before she guided him into her.

"You're ready for me. Damn, Lady." Nichol whispered.

"Of course, Nichol. You did that to me." she moaned. "Give it to me, Nichol." she pleaded as she began to bounce upon him.

"It will be my pleasure, beautiful. God damn, you… feel so… good. Damn, Lady!" he growled into her ear as he returned her fervor, gyrating and slamming into her.

They kissed hungrily, their tongues intertwined. Then, she moved in closer and pressed her breasts into his face as she rode him. He took each nipple into his mouth, sucking them, making her cry out with pleasure as he pumped not only his desire for her into her, but the years of uncertainty and anger, wondering if he would ever feel this alive again.

The Sheriff, Gisborne, and the Captain had made it back to the castle. They had just entered through the front door. Duke Farnsworth suggested he go to the dungeon to see that the two new prisoners had been received. The Sheriff agreed. The Captain nodded, then turned to head toward the stairs that led down to the dungeon, as the Sheriff and Guy headed for the Council Quarters.

"Thought Nichol would have caught up with us by now." Guy remarked.

"Yes, well, seems he must have taken a detour. I'm guessing he's bollocks deep inside of Lady Kaeliss right now." the Sheriff scoffed.

"Oh, right. Good for him." Guy chuckled.

"Indeed, Gis. I doubt he's had much of that in the last three years." he grinned.

They made it to the Council Quarters. The men nodded a greeting to the sentry, then the Sheriff opened the door.

The Prince was standing beyond the table, the windows behind him, facing Robert and the Scribe, who were seated, their backs turned to the Sheriff and Guy. The two men entered quietly, and the Sheriff softly closed the door as the men took a moment to observe.

Prince John was appearing to mimic someone. He stood with his hands held as if in prayer, his head bent down, a serious expression upon his face with his eyes closed.

Nottingham leaned against the wall beside the door and folded his arms. He shook his head, then gave a knowing look to Guy as he chuckled.

"A monk?" Robert asked.

Prince John shook his head, fiercely.

"What in the hell is he doing?" Guy whispered to his cousin.

"Not entirely sure, but it's looking like perhaps a game of charades." the Sheriff chuckled.

"I know! Is it a nun, Your Highness?" the Scribe asked.

"Well done, Percival!" Prince John exclaimed, excitedly. "Another point for you. Your turn now!" he looked to Robert. "Take a drink, Robert. You lost. That's the rule."

"Yes, Your Highness." Robert sighed as he took a sip from his goblet.

The Sheriff cleared his throat and the two men walked toward them.

"Ah! Georgie, old boy. You're back!" Prince John smiled.

Robert and the Scribe stood from their seats and turned to face the Sheriff and Guy.

"Indeed. I see you've been kept entertained, Your Highness." he said.

"Yes. Percival is quite good at this." Prince John said.

The Scribe looked to the Prince and nodded in deference to him. Then, he turned toward the Sheriff, nodded, and took his leave.

"Well? Were you successful, George?" Prince John asked. He came out from behind the table and walked toward the two men.

"Yes, Your Highness. We expect to capture more of the rebels tomorrow night, and in the coming days." the Sheriff nodded.

"I see. Is the road safe to travel on now?"

"Yes."

"Good. I do hope there won't be an issue when I'm travelling south here on Friday, friend?"

"Doubtful, Your Highness. If anything comes up, of course, I will get word to you." he nodded.

"I can see why you chose Slayer for City Watch. He's a rather formidable looking fellow. Although, he's also surprisingly pleasant." Prince John said.

"Yes. He's one of two we have selected so far for City Watch." the Sheriff said.

"Both were with us. They handled themselves well." Guy added.

"I'm glad to see the City Watch effort is coming along nicely." Prince John smiled. He started to advance a little closer but stumbled. He quickly regained his footing and smiled, sheepishly.

"God's nightgown." Guy muttered.

"Dear Zeus. You're drunk." the Sheriff sighed.

"What does it matter, Georgie? Perhaps you should have something, too? You're often uptight, friend. Do you know that?"

"Your Highness — " he started to say but was cut off.

"That's your problem, friend. You don't have one thing that interests you just for fun. You never take the time to engage in leisure. It's healthy, George! You must try it. Imagine my shock when I found out you don't even have a simple item like a chessboard anywhere in this gargantuan castle of yours? This is why Robert, Percival, and myself were enjoying a game of charades." he turned back toward Robert. "Helped the time pass swimmingly, didn't it, Robert?"

"Indeed, Your Highness." Robert nodded. Once the Prince turned back to face the Sheriff and Guy, Robert made eye contact with them. He shook his head slowly and grinned.

Nottingham nodded. Then, he looked down and sighed.

"You've a library in here, but I'd wager you don't read. Isn't that right, Georgie, old boy?" Prince John asked.

"I read what is necessary, Your Highness." he said.

"Right. So, no book reading. No games of any sort. I knew not to expect backgammon, but… chess, friend? Not a chess board and pieces to be had." Prince John frowned, shaking his head.

"A shame you didn't know the Page plays chess with Hildith's lad, Robert. She's one of the servants here." Guy said.

"No. I'll keep that in mind should a similar situation arise in future." Robert nodded.

"You don't take time for yourself to enjoy anything, friend. That's sad." Prince John said.

"How much did you have to drink, Your Highness? I see the flask and the goblets on the table. Robert and the Scribe were on duty, by the way." Nottingham sighed.

"Just a teensy bit, friend. See what I mean? You're so uptight."

The Sheriff looked to Robert.

"How much of that wine did he imbibe, Robert?" he asked.

"He's on his fourth, Milord. This is including the two goblets had in the Dining Hall when he first arrived." Robert said.

"I see." he looked to the Prince. "I don't recommend you travel, Your Highness. With respect, you're not fit to defend yourself should you run into trouble. I don't know why you insist on travelling without security?" he sighed.

"There's no need for it most times, George. As it is now. Bardolph can handle it." Prince John nodded.

"Have you looked at him recently? He looks older than the Scribe. Sure, he's fit to drive you around in a carriage, but he's not fit to fight, Your Highness." the Sheriff pointed out.

"Do not argue with me." Prince John huffed.

"Not arguing, Your Highness. I'm strongly suggesting, and mentioned a couple of facts to support my suggestion." he said.

"Regardless, I'm heading home. It'll be the last bit of peace afforded me for awhile. Then, I shall see you all in six days time for our dining engagement." Prince John said.

"You… will?" Robert asked.

"Oh. Did he not mention that, Robert?" Prince John asked.

"I haven't had the chance to tell him. That's fine. You just did." the Sheriff said. He then looked to Robert. "Prince John is bringing his wife, Isabella, the Countess of Gloucester to dine on Friday evening. You and Isabelle are invited, of course."

"I see. Very well. I'll mention it to my wife." Robert nodded.

"You must come, Robert. I need all the reinforcements I can get to keep my wife entertained." Prince John sighed.

"Does she like games, too?" Robert asked.

"No. She doesn't like anything that involves amusement. She's as dull as used bathwater, to be frank about it." Prince John frowned.

"Oh. I see." Robert said. He chuckled once the Prince turned back to face the Sheriff.

"Your Highness, are you sure you want to venture out now? Lawlessness is a problem at the moment, and there are many more rebels that still need to be captured." Nottingham said.

"It shall be fine, George. I appreciate your concern, but I'll be on my way. I need one more night to myself before my wife arrives and… ruins everything."

"Very well. I'll walk you to your carriage." he said.

The Prince agreed. He bid goodnight to Gisborne and Robert, then headed out of the meeting chamber with the Sheriff.

Later, as the Sheriff was returning to the meeting chamber, he saw the Captain and the four men he assigned to escort the prisoners, returning from the dungeon. He walked over to them to have a word.

"Ah! Good. The blokes are all settled in, I take it?" he asked.

"Indeed, Milord." Duke Farnsworth nodded.

"Right. We shall all be convening soon in the Council Quarters once Mordrid and Castor return." he said, then turned to Luke. "Except for you, Luke. You already know your assignment. That hasn't changed. The only thing you need to know is you're permitted to participate in Nic's training session."

"Very well, Milord." Luke nodded.

"And so, it shall be the same for Castor, Duke… should you see him before I do. He is permitted to attend Nic's training session, but he will still report for duty with Alistor, guarding the dungeon." the Sheriff said to his Captain.

"Alistor? Are you meaning Alfred, Milord?" Duke Farnsworth asked.

"Right. That one. Whatever. When they return, Castor will be notified of this, and Mordrid shall be summoned to the meeting." he said, firmly.

"Of course, Milord."

"Milord Sheriff?" Drake asked.

"What is it, Drake?"

"There's something you should know about that one prisoner, the short one. The one named Nesdin."

"Oh. What would that be?" he asked.

"Slayer said he tried to recruit him to join the rebellion. Except, like you, Slayer called it a cult. Nesdin and the dead rebel acted like they knew Slayer. From the tavern." Drake said.

"Hmm. Slayer might know more about these characters than any of us realized. Good. We must question him, see what he knows. Perhaps he knows of others who are in this cult? Perhaps he can help us find them faster?" Nottingham said.

Nichol was holding Kaeliss to him in her bed, which featured myriad pillows, fine linen, and soft blankets. Candles were lit on the table beside the bed, and the other tables scattered throughout the room.

Kaeliss sighed, contentedly, as she rested her head against his chest.

"I should… probably leave you soon, Kaeliss. You must be getting tired." Nichol said.

"After that… you wish to leave?" she asked, surprised.

"No, my lady. I don't wish to. It's not about what I want to do. It's about what I must do… for you." Nichol said.

"If you want to do something for me you'd stay with me, Nichol. You might think otherwise after my brazenness earlier, but… I'm not a whore." Kaeliss whispered.

"You misinterpreted what I was trying to say, my lady. I could never think of you in such a manner."

"Then, why would you take me, then leave soon afterward? Like a client to his consort?"

"Kaeliss, you've got it all wrong. I must court you properly. I'm needed on the morrow to conduct a training session. If I'm seen strolling into the castle in the morning, some will know where I came from. You're a lady. You should be regarded as such. Especially since… I'm inviting you to dine with me and a few other people in six days time at the castle." Nichol smiled.

"Oh, really? So, a small party, or something?" she asked.

"Yes. You and I; the Sheriff and his wife; Sir Gisborne and his wife; another of the Sheriff's Advisors, Robert Wordsworth and his wife; and… Prince John and his wife, Isabella, the Countess of Gloucester." Nichol nodded.

"I beg your pardon, Nichol?" Kaeliss asked, incredulously.

"What part didn't you hear, my dear?"

"Oh, I heard all of it. Is this… are you having a laugh?"

"No, my lady. I'm dead serious. You are invited to be my guest at a special dining engagement on Friday evening. The Prince and his wife will be the honoured guests." Nichol said.

"You… honestly wish for me to be present for this?" Kaeliss asked.

"Yes, my lady. Will you be my guest?"

"I shall be pleased to be your guest, Nichol." Kaeliss smiled as she looked up and gazed into his eyes.

He pulled her close to him and kissed her softly.

"Nichol?"

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

"Don't leave me… until I fall asleep?" she asked.

"Very well, beautiful lady." he smiled.

"There's just one thing about that, though." she said.

"What's that, my dear?"

"I'm not tired… yet. Perhaps… you should take care of that, Nichol?" she smirked.

"If that's an invitation to ravish you again, I'll take it, my lady. Then, we must remember to save some of our desires for later dates." he winked, then kissed her hungrily, before he plunged into her once more.

The Sheriff entered into the Council Quarters to speak to Guy and Robert.

"He left, Cousin?" Guy asked.

"Yes. I wish he had heeded my advice, however." the Sheriff said.

"Not much you could do about that, George. You made a valid point. He chose to ignore it. If he can't be trusted to make sound decisions it's not your responsibility to mind him. If he needs minding, the King should be taking care of that." Robert asserted.

"Indeed. I just hope he won't run into any trouble. Tonight, or on Friday." a beat. "I just saw the Duke, and the men assigned to take the prisoners to the dungeon. We're meeting once Mordrid gets back." he said.

"What about Castor?" Guy asked.

"The Duke was just informed that if he sees Castor before I do, he's to be made aware his assignment tomorrow hasn't changed. Same for Luke, and Luke knows this. The only thing either of them need to consider is whether are not they wish to participate in Nic's training session. As for the others, we need to know who else wishes to do their training on the morrow, so we can decide who goes to Sherwood. Then, we need to have a plan of attack for tomorrow night at the church." Nottingham said.

"I wonder how Ancel and Gerad are coming along in their pursuit?" Guy mused.

"Both are intuitive and highly energetic. Seems like a good pairing to me. All I can say is they will be exhausted when they finally return. They've been working non stop since dawn." he said.

"I'm sure they'll take turns resting if their pursuit lasts through the night, George." Robert pointed out.

"I agree. They will do that. But, when they return, I'm sending them directly to their rooms. They can join us at the church for round two tomorrow evening."

"Sounds fair. Have you… decided when we will meet with Rhiannon to tell her of — " Robert started to ask, but was cut off.

"That will depend on Isabelle, Robert. Wouldn't you agree? She was… a bit of a mess earlier, right?" he pointed out with a knowing quirk of his brow.

"True. But, I saw her with my sister and Lady Meridwyn not too long ago. I suppose… close to a couple of hours ago. I was looking for Rhiannon." a beat. "He was driving me to madness, lamenting about his interrupted backgammon game. Wanted me to find a chess board." Robert sighed.

"So, you thought my wife might know where I kept one." Nottingham chuckled.

"Indeed. She asked me if I could picture you sitting still for who knows how long, playing a game of chess." Robert said.

"Seems like she knows you very well, Cousin." Guy chuckled.

"Indeed." he nodded. He looked to Robert. "So, how was your wife faring when you saw her then?"

"She was behaving normally. As if none of what we witnessed earlier ever happened. Seemed like her usual self." Robert shrugged.

"Hmm. Interesting. When you're alone with her, do you notice anything different about her demeanour? Besides when she's not feeling well, I mean." he asked.

"One thing, but she'd be horrified if I spoke of it to anyone." Robert hinted and looked downcast.

"It's fine, Robert. I'm only asking to gauge when is best to arrange this meeting with my wife. We won't breathe a word." the Sheriff said, nodding to Gisborne, beside him.

"I swear it on my mother's grave, Robert." Guy nodded.

"Alright. I can't believe I'm about to share this. I don't speak of such things except with her." Robert sighed.

Both the Sheriff and Guy looked into his blue green eyes, curiously. Silently goading him to share whatever it was with them.

"Lately, she's turned into a sort of… tigress. Intimately speaking, I mean. This is out of character for Isabelle. She was never like this before? I mean, she wasn't an ice queen, either, but… she wasn't the seducer. She seems to want it… a lot. It's tiring me out, to be frank about it." Robert shrugged.

"Really?" the Sheriff scoffed.

Guy began to chuckle uncontrollably.

"Not a word. She might kill me if she knew I revealed this."

"Of course. So, it seems our little get together is dependent on whether your wife is heaving out of your windows, or… riding you damn near to the great beyond. Am I right?" the Sheriff smirked, then he resumed chuckling.

"Perhaps you should consider the other elements going on, and we'll work around those." Robert said, ignoring the joke.

"What other elements?"

"You're up to your eyebrows in two important missions. The pursuit of the fugitive fellow, and now, these Christian rebel blokes. Who knows when the two Knights currently in Sherwood will return? It may not be until morning, so, that time of day is out. If you were planning to do this on the morrow, that is? That is only one example, by the way. There's the matter of you mentioning returning to the church tomorrow around the same time, so that time of day is out, too." Robert shrugged.

"We could still tell her, Robert. We could tell her after mass. Or, we could tell her before we head back to the church at sunset." the Sheriff pointed out.

"Sure we could, but there's something you might not have considered."

"And, what is that, Robert?"

"She's going to want to see him. Right away. I know my sister. She's going to demand it." Robert said with a knowing quirk of his brow.

"Curses! You're right. It's got to be now." Nottingham sighed.

"What? Isn't it a little late in the day, Cousin?" Guy asked.

"There's still plenty of time before the date changes. Some people dine around this time." he said, then he swung his head back to Robert. "But, we haven't dined yet. Have we, Robert?"

"Well, no. But, I think our wives did with Lady Gisborne." Robert said.

"And, your wife is doing better, correct?"

"At last check in two hours ago, yes."

"Then, we shall do it now." he said. He looked to Guy. "Gis, have the Scribe arrange to set up the balcony similarly to how the courtyard behind the castle was done on Thursday evening. Tell him to have it ready in thirty minutes. I want a table covered by a canopy to keep our ladies warm. He'll know what to do."

"George?" Guy asked.

"What now? Why aren't you leaving to find the Scribe?"

"You wanted to meet with your men. What about that?" Guy pointed out.

"Curses! You see why timing this has been a problem, Robert? Between trying to run things, and her laughing in my face when I last mentioned it, not to mention everything else, it's nearly impossible!" he huffed.

"Understood." Robert nodded.

"We're still doing it. Mordrid should be here soon. Castor will get his instructions, then we shall have a brief meeting. I don't expect Nic to be present. We'll get that out of the way, then Robert and I will get on with the next plan. We must. Besides the obvious reasons why, we need Richard and Nigel back. Their skills have been wasted for two months. It's getting ridiculous around here in this cursed town. We'll tell Rhiannon, bring the boy back tonight, and bring the men back, as well.

"Go. See if Mordrid and Castor have returned. Find the Scribe, relay the instructions for the balcony, and report back here." the Sheriff instructed Guy.

"Very well." Guy nodded, then left to carry out his tasks.

A quarter of an hour later the men were gathered, seated at the table in the Council Quarters. Guy had made arrangements with the Scribe and quietly informed the Sheriff about it. Duke Farnsworth reported that Castor was informed of his instructions for the morrow, and that both Luke and Castor said they planned to show at Nichol's training session.

"Good. There's two for training tomorrow. Who else is interested in attending Nic's training session?" the Sheriff asked them collectively.

All of the men raised their hands.

The Sheriff sighed.

"Although, it's encouraging to see so much enthusiasm for the training, I cannot grant it to all of you. I need men in Sherwood, unless, by some miracle, Ancel and Gerad return with the stumpy bloke before first light." he said.

"Milord, perhaps you should decide who accompanies the Captain in Sherwood, and we can go from there. There will be other training sessions to choose from, isn't that right?" Mordrid suggested.

"Indeed. There will be. Very well." he nodded. Then he looked to Guy and the Captain. "Did Nic mention how many he expects to train per session?"

"No, I don't think he did." Guy shrugged.

"If he mentioned it, regrettably, I missed that, Milord." Duke Farnsworth said.

"Great. It would be nice if he were here so we can plan. Oh, well. You snooze, you lose. Right. Let's go with… Mordrid, Drake, and Adam will go to Sherwood. Alex, you will do your training with Luke, Castor, and Safforus on the morrow, and any others who wish to participate. If the session won't be long, one man could manage the portcullis. So, Emory and Beric can decide which of them will also attend the training session." he said.

"Sounds good to me, Milord." Duke Farnsworth nodded.

Mordrid, Drake, Adam, and Alex nodded in agreement.

"What about your plan for tomorrow at sunset?" Guy asked.

"Yes. Well, first, I want it known that when you men run into Gerad and Ancel they are to report back here. They've given enough of their time to potato bloke for one day and night, and I want them with us tomorrow evening. Also, your team will return here earlier than normal, Duke. We're all going to that same cursed church come sundown. We won't have Luke and Castor because…" he looked around to the rest of the men gathered. "Because, quite frankly, when you fuck up, there are consequences, men. Luke and Castor fucked up this afternoon. True, Castor managed to find all of the evidence I was seeking. True, the men resolved their differences and made their apologies before they reported back to me. However, for the next two days they are stepping back and taking assignments they've never done before because they need to learn the importance of teamwork. So, even though their contributions are generally invaluable to us, they will not be included in tomorrow night's venture."

"Understood, Milord. When would you like us to return from Sherwood?" the Captain asked.

"Well before dusk. Late afternoon. Enough time that you can all fortify yourselves before we venture out again." he said.

"Very well." the Captain nodded. "Is there anything else left to discuss?"

"I'm going to be tied up with… a family matter shortly. So will Robert. This will most likely result in a quick jaunt out of town. Should Gerad and Ancel return if I'm out, get a briefing from them, then they should fortify themselves, and report directly to their rooms. They will be free on the morrow until sundown." the Sheriff instructed.

"Very well." the Captain nodded.

"Good. The meeting is adjourned. Myself and Robert have somewhere we need to be." the Sheriff said. He leaned to his right to speak to his cousin. "Have a room prepared for him, Gis. Somewhere near my rooms." he whispered.

"Of course. Good luck, Cousin." Guy said, quietly.

The Sheriff nodded to Robert. The two stood from their seats, then proceeded out of the meeting chamber.

A short time later, Robert was showing him inside his quarters. Rhiannon and Isabelle were seated on the sofa, sipping tea. They were startled when their husbands walked in.

"Oh, good. You're back." Rhiannon smiled. She set her cup on the table and walked over to greet her husband.

"Indeed, my lady." he smiled.

"I'll just grab my cape and we can be on our way, George. We were planning to go outside briefly earlier, but we saw Robert escorting the Prince inside and… changed our minds. That's how I have my cape here." Rhiannon shrugged then went to get it.

"That's fine, my lady. You will need it." he said.

She stopped in her tracks and turned to face him.

"At this time, my love? Where would we be going at this time? And, why are you still wearing your surcoat?"

"It's where… all of us will be going, Rhiannon." Robert said. Then, he looked over to Isabelle and gave her a knowing look.

Isabelle knew right away that Robert was telling her, 'It's time.' just by the look on his face. She smiled and nodded at him.

"What are you two up to?" Rhiannon asked both of the men with a suspicious quirk of her brow.

"Neither Robert, nor myself had a chance to nibble on anything with all that was happening. I'm sure you ladies have dined, probably together. Will you join us? You can have some wine, my lady, or any spirits of your choosing." the Sheriff said.

"Since when do you care about food, George? You never care about food." she said.

"It's a little late for anything too heavy. We're just going to have a few victuals, and perhaps a goblet of… whatever, and we can have a family get together." Robert smiled.

"Well, I think that sounds nice, Robert." Isabelle smiled. She stood from the sofa and walked toward them.

"Why are you so agreeable all of a sudden, Isabelle? My word! Your moods have been so up and down today, it's like I'm riding on a giant bouncing ball." Rhiannon sighed.

"It's unexpected and spontaneous. Something a bit different. It can't hurt, Rhiannon. We might as well indulge them." Isabelle said.

"Hmm. Now, I'm starting to wonder if all three of you are in on this." Rhiannon said, folding her arms.

"My lady, just grab your cape, and let's go. It's just the four of us. Come." the Sheriff said, softly.

She looked at him a moment and exhaled sharply.

"Very well. I do hope we won't freeze, though, since you say I'll need my cape." Rhiannon sighed.

"You both will need to be dressed warmly. Just grab them. Then we will be off." he directed both of the ladies.

Rhiannon and Isabelle retrieved their capes. Their husbands helped them into them, then Robert grabbed his surcoat, and the four left the chambers together.

A short time later, the Sheriff opened the door of the balcony. A table had been set up for them under a large canopy which had been secured to withstand the wind. A small fire was burning in a metal cauldron inside to keep the area warm. The ladies commented on the beauty of the decor, and that they were glad the dining area was covered with a small fire burning inside there. A servant brought them all libations, and Isabelle chose tea.

"So, how did you fare with… whatever that was you were busy with tonight, George?" Rhiannon asked as she sipped of her wine.

"We had some success. Two men were captured. We expect to get more rebels on the morrow." he nodded.

"That's good to hear." Rhiannon smiled.

The servants returned bringing trays of various foods: bread, a variety of cheese, slices of roasted pheasant, fruits, dates, and custard tarts.

The Sheriff took a generous swill of brandy, swallowed, then looked to his wife. "Oh, didn't you say you were planning to have a word with Constancia Busby on the morrow after mass, my lady? You might want to choose your words carefully. Her brother in law is currently in the dungeon." he said, matter of factly, then nibbled on some pheasant.

"What? You can't be serious? Merek is in the dungeon? For crying out loud! They just had another baby only five days ago." Rhiannon said.

"Remember those cretins who interrupted our nuptials? He was a part of that crowd." the Sheriff said.

"Oh, my! Doesn't he and his wife have several children, Rhiannon? I think you and Meridwyn mentioned something about eight of them when Constancia was speaking to us the night of your wedding." Isabelle asked.

"Indeed, Isabelle. Yes. Those are the ones with a whole brood of children." Rhiannon sighed.

"A little too many for my liking." Robert said as he nibbled on some cheese.

"He's a damned fool!" Rhiannon huffed, then she took a sip of her wine.

"Indeed, my lady." the Sheriff nodded.

"No, I mean… what is it with people who are blessed with children, yet they can't be bothered to appreciate them?" Rhiannon asked.

Isabelle had just taken some of her tea before Rhiannon spoke, and now she was coughing as she had choked on it, in reaction to those words. She held a napkin to her lips, then looked down and sighed.

"Are you alright, Belle?" Robert asked.

"Yes, my love. Some tea just… went down the wrong way." Isabelle smiled.

"That fool has a house full of children to raise, and he goes and does something foolish. Meanwhile, here I am." Rhiannon sighed.

"What do you mean, my lady?" the Sheriff asked.

"What if… what happened has… rendered me barren? What if I can't have another child?" she asked.

The Sheriff exchanged knowing glances with Robert and Isabelle. They make an unspoken agreement in that moment that the timing is now.

Nottingham sighed, then took a very generous swill of brandy before he spoke.

"My lady… what if it's not too late for that?" the Sheriff asked, softly.

"Are you suggesting we get started on that straightway? Is that what you're suggesting? And, you choose now to speak of it — in the presence of my brother and sister in law?" Rhiannon sighed and rolled her eyes.

"No. You can still be a mother." he said, simply.

"How's that, George? You take in another stray? Or, did you finally decide to adopt the Page?" Rhiannon laughed.

Robert and Isabelle shook their heads. Nottingham shot them a definite, 'You see what I'm dealing with?' look. They were beginning to understand how it had taken so long to finally tell her.

"What if I told you… you already have a child?" he said quietly, as he looked deeply into her eyes. He never flinched.

"For God's sake. Not this again! Honestly, you mentioned something about this before. Did you recently hit your head, or something — yet again?" Rhiannon remarked with a shake of her head.

"Yes. I did try to tell you. When you found the proclamation with Robert's and Isabelle's portraits on it. I tried to tell you the child that was kidnapped was ours, but… " his words trailed off.

"Sister. Listen to him." Robert interjected, surprising Rhiannon. She looked at him with a curious quirk of her brow as he continued. "Incidentally, we're not going anywhere. We're here to help him tell the story." he commented as he nodded to his wife while maintaining eye contact with her.

"What?" Rhiannon asked, slowly.

"Yes." Robert nodded.

"It's true." Isabelle added.

"What the… my God! You're all mad! I swear it on Father's grave. I think I would know if I had given birth. This is ludicrous! What manner of japery is this?" Rhiannon stood and stormed past them, out of the canopied area, and stood near the parapet. She held the edges of her cape closed as the biting wind chilled her.

"My lady. Turn around. Look at me." Nottingham said as he walked slowly behind her.

She reluctantly obeyed. Then, she moved closer to the wall.

"My angel. This is no game, believe me when I say to you… we have a son."

"WHAT?!" Rhiannon questioned in disbelief, her voice raised a decibel or two.

"He's being truthful, Sis. He did believe we kidnapped your boy. Someone placed the child on our doorstep. Turns out, it was the monster who held you captive." Robert said.

"We had him for three months, before we were captured and brought here. We had no idea he was… your child." Isabelle added.

Rhiannon faltered and fell back against the wall, her face ashen. She reached behind her to steady herself by bracing herself against it. The Sheriff went to her immediately, placing his arm around her.

"What? You're serious. A… child… ours, and he had our child for a time?" she asked her husband.

"Yes. Before I knew there was a child at all, he took him." Nottingham said.

"No! This cannot be. It cannot be! I would remember such an important event as giving birth to my son, would I not?" she turned to Isabelle. "Explain to me how I would not recall giving birth."

"A number of reasons, honestly, Sister." Isabelle replied.

"Poisoning at the top of the list. Losing so much blood with his birth that you were actually near death when I found you just in time is the second reason." Nottingham added.

"Are you people jesting? I have a son? But… that was in May you found me, wasn't it? How old is… our son?"

"He is… six months old, Rhiannon." Nottingham sighed, then looked downcast.

"Where is he?!" she exclaimed in a fright.

"My lady, he is safe. He is being cared for by Lady Margaret at Guy's manor in Nettlestone. He has toys, two guards on duty, a nurse, and visits from Robert, Isabelle, and myself." a beat. "Oh, and he won't stop eating."

"Babies do that. They're growing, after all." Rhiannon said, still in shock over what she was hearing.

This had to be a strange dream, surely? One of those vivid ones where she knew she was dreaming, yet it was eerily real, like in waking hours. This had to be a dream, it cannot be real life. This was actually surreal to her.

Come on, wake up! This is the part where you can usually get yourself out of the nonsense and wake yourself out of it. Why can't I wake up out of this? Because… this is surely nonsense!

"Really. So, there was no possible Black Death. Instead, Isabelle was absent because she was caring for… my son, when Lady Margaret was caring for me?" she shook her head. "What a waste of time her's and the physician's efforts were. Look where that got Sela. Dead, anyway." Rhiannon rambled.

"Rhiannon." Robert whispered.

Rhiannon permitted her husband to escort her back to the table, out of the cold. He pulled her chair out for her. She seated herself then took a few sips of her wine.

"It's a terrible loss, dearest. We all agree on that. No one could predict what happened to cause the loss of your daughter. In your grief, perhaps you'll find much comfort in the arms of your son?" Isabelle said.

"That may be, but… " she replied, then looked to the Sheriff. "Who knows about this? Be honest." she demanded.

"At first It was myself, Lady Margaret, Mortianna, and Guy. And, of course, once Robert and Isabelle were brought here, they were eventually told he was our child. Thomas knows since the time you threatened to go into labour. A limited number of my men know. The ones who were sent to find the child, two of which are guarding him now; and Luke." he nodded, then sipped of his brandy.

"What?" she asked again, slowly. "So… basically, everyone?"

"No. It was a need to know situation, Rhiannon. Only those sent to look for him, and or guard him, and those who have and continue to care for him." Nottingham said, softly.

"And… how much do these people know, George?" she asked.

"Nobody knows specific details. The care team, including Mortianna, know what they needed to regarding your status with the bleeding and unconscious situation." Nottingham shuddered as he recalled that awful time.

She noticed his reaction and realized that must have given him a fright when he found her.

"The family members mentioned would know the most. Guy was beside me when you were found. He thought you'd been murdered and was trying to usher me out of the room to spare me from seeing… the blood. I saw it, anyway." he said, softly.

Robert and Isabelle exchanged looks of concern between them. It was unsettling to hear how grave Rhiannon's condition was when she was finally found. Isabelle grasped Robert's hand and squeezed it.

The Sheriff cleared his throat, then continued. "As for Luke, he knows the least of all. All he knows is that boy is ours. I told him I was in no position to share anything more about it with him, and the topic has never been mentioned since in our many conversations."

"I see. I appreciate that. And…Meridwyn?" she asked.

"She doesn't know, my lady. Not yet. That, I'll leave to you to decide how to tell her." he said.

Rhiannon sighed, then scanned their faces.

"Alright. I'll bite. All of you have much explaining to do right now. I need answers. I want the entire story from start to finish because I need to know why it's taken until my child is half a year old before any of you decided to share that fact with me. And then, after that, someone better take me to him — imminently!" she said, firmly.

At the end of their explanation, she shook her head, still in utter disbelief. She took a generous swill of wine, then posed a question to her husband.

"Is there any proof of this to support what you're telling me, or must I wait to see him for myself?" Rhiannon asked.

"Actually, yes." the Sheriff said.

Robert and Isabelle looked at him, curiously.

"I guess you could say it is another part of your wedding gift, my lady. It's the second part to it. I was waiting for this moment to present it." he said.

"Excuse me?" Rhiannon asked.

"I need to step away to get it, my lady. Trust me. I'll return within minutes." he smiled. He stood from his seat, then bent down to kiss the top of her head.

"Very well, George. Don't keep us waiting long." she nodded.

The Sheriff left them and quickly headed to his office to retrieve the sketch that Richard had drawn of he and the boy together. He ran most of the way back, finally making his way back to the balcony. He approached the table holding a rolled parchment in his hand. As he made it to his seat, Rhiannon looked up at him, curiously. The Sheriff nodded to her and handed it to her gently.

Rhiannon took it and unfurled it, and her jaw dropped on first glance. She touched the child's face on the drawing and sighed, her hand trembling as she held the parchment.

"Does… he have a name?" Rhiannon whispered.

"Not yet, my angel. I've some ideas for that, but, it's important we both have a say. There's one decision I made without you that I think you'll approve of, however." he hinted.

"What's that?" she asked with her eyebrow quirked.

"Robert and Isabelle have agreed to be his godparents." he smiled.

Robert and Isabelle both smiled at her and nodded their agreement.

She was so taken aback by the news and everything they just said, she took a few deep breaths. Then, she looked up at the Sheriff.

"Take me to him. Now." she whispered.

A short time later they entered into the stables. They didn't know it, but Nichol was in there. He had just returned from his delicious two part evening with Lady Kaeliss and was getting his horse settled into the stall. He was feeding his horse sliced bits of apples. He turned his head when he heard voices. He thought it sounded like George and Lady Rhiannon were speaking.

"Are you sure this isn't some kind of bizarre joke, George? Because, if you and my brother came up with a plan for you and I to ride off somewhere together, you didn't need to create all of that melodrama. You know I would have willingly left with you, without feeding me a tale such as that one." Rhiannon sighed.

Nichol kept feeding his horse and stroking the horses mane to keep him placated. He wondered what Lady Rhiannon was referring to?

"It's not a joke, my lady. It's not a tale. It's a fact. You shall see very soon, my angel. When we walk into Guy's manor and you behold his face, you shall see we were speaking truth." he said.

"I don't understand… any of this? How do I remember nothing of it? Every woman remembers. Am I even fit for this if I cannot recall the event for the life of me?" Rhiannon asked. She looked to the floor of the stables at the bits of straw scattered on the floor boards as tears began to spill down her cheeks.

"Rhiannon." he said softly, as he went to her. He pulled her in close to him and held her, smoothing her hair. "My angel, you endured more in those months… that most women only see in their nightmares. It's understandable that you don't remember."

What the hell is he talking about? What did Lady Rhiannon endure that was just compared to nightmares? Nichol wondered, with his mouth slightly agape. He shook his head, astonished at some of what he was hearing.

"He's going to wonder where I've been. Why I never cared?" Rhiannon said, softly.

"He won't, my lady. Trust me." he said.

"I'm so… nervous. I've never been so wound up. Now, I'm glad you encouraged me to have some wine."

"Are you fit to ride, my lady? You can ride with me on my — "

"I will be fine. I haven't ridden Sugarstar in a good while. Won't… Lady Margaret be put out we're coming by so late, though?" Rhiannon parried.

Nichol was trying to think whom Lady Margaret was. The only Margaret he ever knew was James Curran's wife. She had just started up her midwifery practice right before Nichol's injury. He shrugged, deciding Margaret was a fairly common given name.

"Doubtful. I think she'll be glad to see you, my lady." he smiled. So will my men. He thought.

"Very well. Let's do this, George. I need to see him. Perhaps I'll feel better when I see him." she said.

Nichol couldn't help but wonder what his mate and Lady Rhiannon were speaking of. Who was the "he" being referenced who was, apparently, staying at Guy's manor in Nettlestone? Must be a very important bloke for them to be heading there now. And, what was the bit about Lady Rhiannon's comments about not remembering a certain event? And, certainly, what the hell was she subjected to, apparently for "months", that George likened to nightmares?

Floria was pleasantly surprised when she answered the knock at her door and found Luke standing before her — until he looked up at her and she noticed his face.

"Oh, Luke!" she exclaimed. "What on earth happened to you, my sweet?"

"A little… accident when I was out on assignment today, my love. It's fine. It shall heal soon enough." he said.

"Are you sure? It looks… painful." she frowned.

"It's a bit better now. I'll be right as rain in no time." he smiled. "I'm glad you're still awake, Floria." he said.

"I've been working on some sketches. And, you've been kept busy lately. Come in." Floria said. She held the door for him and he walked inside.

"I didn't mean to interrupt if you're busy working, Floria." Luke said.

"It's fine, Luke." she said as she closed the door. "It's just… a bunch of doodles. Is it really considered work if I like what I'm doing?"

"Sure, it is. The work you do now you enjoy, right?"

"Well, yes."

"Then show me these… doodles or whatever they are, my love. I'm interested to see them. I don't think I've seen your drawings before."

"I asked Madam Birghiva to bring more of my things over. One of the things I requested was my charcoal, and the supply of parchment I use for my sketches. She brought them on Wednesday just before dusk." Floria said.

She nodded for him to follow her to the table where the drawings were. He arrived to the table and quickly glanced at them, then he picked them up to examine them.

"These are more than just doodles, my love. These are very artistic sketches." Luke remarked as he looked through them.

"I suppose. Just drawings of some pieces I'm imagining in my head." Floria shrugged.

"Oh, right. I'm guessing these are some of your designs… of ladies apparel that you've committed to paper?"

"Yes, Luke. That's exactly what I'm doing." she smiled.

Luke set the pages back on the table then turned and embraced her.

"You're so talented, my love. You surprise me often with the things you can do. An artist, a creator, a seamstress, and a dancer. Is there anything you can't do?" Luke chuckled.

"There's a few things. Cant handle a weapon very well. And, I certainly can't write lovely songs, or sing, like you can."

"Those things can be learned. There's one of those things you mentioned that I think you should learn." Luke hinted.

"Oh. You going to teach me to sing so we can harmonize together, Luke?" she giggled.

"No. I was thinking I'd… teach you to defend yourself. With a weapon, my love." Luke said.

"What? But… you could protect me, couldn't you, Luke?"

"Not always, Floria. For the times I can't be here for you, I'd feel better if you knew a few basics."

"Ah. So, you're going to teach me?"

"Yes. How does tomorrow sound, after I finish my duties? My assignment ends late afternoon. We could meet after that." Luke suggested.

"You're actually serious!" Floria exclaimed.

"Dead serious. These are trying times, my love. A lovely lady such as yourself should know how to protect herself. I'd do the same for my sisters if they were alive." Luke said.

"But, I'm not your sister, Luke."

"Don't I know it, my love!" he smirked, then kissed her softly.

The Sheriff and Lady Rhiannon made it to Guy's manor in Nettlestone. They guided their horses into the lane leading to the manor.

"Nigel!" Richard whispered, urgently. "I'd get up from that chair if I were you."

"Who the hell is showing up here at this time of… wait. Is that… the Sheriff?" Nigel asked. He quickly arose from his chair and stood beside Richard, resuming position.

"He's with someone. Who is that? It's so dark, I can't tell." Richard sighed.

Then, the clouds rolled past the three quarter moon and they suddenly had a better view.

"Oh, fuck, mate! Is that… his wife?" Nigel asked.

"My God. I think you might be right, mate. It must be?"

"Holy hell! Looks like this assignment might be coming to an end, mate. Thank fuck for that!" Nigel whispered, excitedly.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Nigel. Let's wait to see what his directives are." Richard said, softly.

The Sheriff and Lady Rhiannon slowly came into focus as they advanced on the cobblestone path toward the door.

"Good evening, men." the Sheriff nodded.

"Good evening, Milord Sheriff." Richard smiled.

"Good evening, Milord. Nice to see you back again so soon." Nigel said.

"You were here recently?" Rhiannon asked as she held his arm.

"Yes, my lady. I was here five days ago." he said. Then, he looked to his men. "Men, this is my wife, Lady Rhiannon Nottingham." he said, then he addressed Rhiannon. "My lady, this is Richard, and Nigel." he said as he gestured to each of them at the mention of their names.

"How do you do? Thank you for… watching over… our boy." she nodded.

"It's nice to meet you, Milady." Nigel nodded.

"Pleased to meet you, Milady Rhiannon." Richard said.

"Richard. You're the artist, right?" she asked.

"Well, not technically, but… I suppose I am." Richard nodded.

"He is. A right good one, too, Milady Rhiannon." Nigel added.

"Oh, good. I see some light coming through the window." Rhiannon said. "Does that mean Lady Margaret is still awake?" she asked the men.

"Most likely. She has a little more time in the evenings, now that he sleeps more through the night." Nigel said.

"Yes. That was how she found the time to make him his teddy bear." Richard smiled.

"Oh. I see." Rhiannon nodded. Then, she looked to the ground and took quiet deep breaths. This was becoming very real now. She felt a bit lightheaded.

"Right. Very well, men. Stay here until further instruction. We're going to have a word with Lady Margaret, and then we're going to see our son." the Sheriff instructed them.

The men nodded, and the Sheriff proceeded to the door. He opened it and ushered Rhiannon in, quietly closing the door. He nodded for her to follow him inside.

The Sheriff led her into the large sitting area.

"Lady Margaret?" he called out to her, softly.

In moments she entered into the room from a doorway, drying her hands on a linen towel.

"Milord Sheriff? Is everything — " Lady Margaret started to ask, curious why he was visiting so late, and then she stopped dead in her tracks.

"Hallelujah!" Lady Margaret smiled at Rhiannon with her free hand to her bosom as she quickly advanced toward them. "This must mean… you know." she sighed merrily, then folded the towel lengthwise, placing it over her shoulder.

The Sheriff sighed.

"Well, yes. I suppose I… technically know. But, in fact, Lady Margaret, I actually don't know. I remember nothing of any of this. I feel like I've been led through a portal because all of this is… odd to me." Rhiannon explained.

"Of course it is, my dear. You endured a lot. You nearly died giving birth. You were alone, and held prisoner by an absolute loon, never mind what was happening inside of your body. Of course, you don't recall, Milady Rhiannon. I'd be surprised if you did recall a lot of that time." Lady Margaret said.

Lady Margaret remembered her initial reaction was shock that the lady had no memory of the baby. She told Mortianna this once when she went down into her lair to see her regarding Milady's noncompliance with care instructions. But, the witch set her straight, and as more time went on she realized Mortianna was right. The memory loss made sense to her now.

"Really?" she asked.

"Indeed. My thoughts exactly. I'd been waiting six months for a memory to present, but… it never did." Nottingham sighed.

"Of course, Milord. She had a traumatic childbirth, during a highly traumatic time. It's natural most of those memories were blocked. It's the mind's way of protecting her." Lady Margaret nodded. Then she looked to Rhiannon. "Do not fret. You'll hear him soon, Milady Rhiannon. It's around this time he wakes up needing his milk, and sometimes his cereal mixture if he's hungry. That will make it all real for you, when his wee belly wakes him." Lady Margaret smiled.

"Oh, my." Lady Rhiannon whispered. She looked to the floor, and began to breathe rapidly.

"My lady? Are you alright?" Nottingham asked.

"I… I need to sit, George. The room is spinning."

He helped her to a chair and she seated herself. The Sheriff regarded her with concern. Rhiannon didn't notice and looked to Lady Margaret.

"Can we open a window in here? I think I need… some air." Rhiannon asked.

"Very well, Milady, but, it looks to me like you could use a good strong cup of tea. Perhaps some crumpets to go with it? When did you last fortify yourself? You're looking frail." Lady Margaret asked while she opened one of the windows near Rhiannon.

"Am I? I was feeling well enough… until now." Rhiannon sighed.

"Wait right there, my dear. I've some tea steeping right now. We have time before the wee one wakes." Lady Margaret instructed, then she turned and left the room.

The Sheriff crouched down before her to get a better look at her. Her head was bent down.

"Rhiannon?" he asked.

"Hmm?" she raised her head then opened her eyes.

"What is it, my lady? Are your ribs painful?"

"No. It's nothing like that. It's numbness… and some vertigo. I was planning to look in on him if he were sleeping, George. I can't move, however." she said, fearfully.

"I think you're in shock. It will pass. Perhaps the tea will help? It will be alright, Rhiannon. I'm here with you." the Sheriff soothed, softly caressing her cheek.

"What kind of a mother is afraid to see her child?" she asked.

"One whom wasn't aware she was a mother, my lady." the Sheriff said.

"What kind of mother doesn't recall giving birth to their son, George?"

"One whom went through hell and back prior to, and during the time she gave birth. They were extreme circumstances, Rhiannon. It's really a miracle you both survived." he whispered as he grasped her hand.

"George — "

"There's nothing wrong with you, my lady. You're a mother. You just haven't seen him yet."

"I'm a… mother." she whispered.

"Yes, my angel. You shall see. You shall feel it. Do not be afraid."

Lady Margaret came back into the room carrying a tray. The Sheriff stood beside the chair Rhiannon was seated in.

"Very good! I'm all prepared. I've his cereal warming on very low heat, and here we have some tea. I brought some pastries and cheese for you, Milady Rhiannon. You must eat. You're looking awfully small, my dear." Lady Margaret frowned once she neared them, then she set the tray on the table.

The midwife passed a steaming cup of tea to Lady Rhiannon, then she used a fork to place two pastries and cheese onto a plate. She passed the plate to her and gave her a napkin.

"Thank you, Lady Margaret." Rhiannon said as she sipped of her tea. "And, the boy. He's thriving?"

"He's a growing concern, Milady. He has quite an appetite — "

"He never stops eating. It's ridiculous." the Sheriff sighed.

"He's a baby, Milord. He's growing. Hate to break the news, but he'll be growing for the next seventeen and half years." Lady Margaret said, flatly.

Rhiannon stifled a nervous giggle then took a bite of her apple filled pastry.

"Dear Zeus! Really? Hope Jean Louis can keep up with the demands." he said, shaking his head.

"So, that's good. He's eating well. Anything else?" Rhiannon asked.

"He, of course, has been able to hold his head up for awhile. He sits on his own. He can pull himself to stand. He crawls all over the place during the day. He loves his rattle that Sir Gisborne made for him, and he loves to cuddle with his teddy. He sleeps with his teddy." Lady Margaret smiled.

"Oh, my. That sounds sweet. A loving boy, too." Rhiannon said as she sipped of her tea.

"Yes, Milady. He's a good laddie."

"You said Sir Guy made him a… rattle?" Rhiannon asked, curiously.

"Yes, Milady. He also made him a cradle, and a rocking horse. They're lovely. Quite finely crafted." Lady Margaret nodded.

"I didn't know Sir Guy could craft things from wood, George? He's a carpenter?" Rhiannon asked, then nibbled on some cheese.

"Yes, my lady. He was taught when he was a boy." the Sheriff nodded.

Just then, they heard stirrings on the second floor. They thought they heard a voice. Then there was a soft thud. A moment later, the thud was followed by a cry.

"It's him, isn't it?" Rhiannon asked as she set her cup of tea on the table.

Then, she surprised them both as she quickly arose from her chair and bolted out of the room heading for the stairs.

"Rhiannon!" the Sheriff called as he went after her.

Lady Margaret shook her head and went into the kitchen area to prepare the wee lad's warm goat's milk, and his warm cereal. She would bring it up to the boy forthwith.

Rhiannon ran past a few rooms, quickly peaking into them. She kept moving frantically when the rooms were found to be empty. The child was beginning to wail.

"Bear! Mil!" the boy called through sobs.

Finally, she stood in the doorway, holding onto the doorframe for a moment as she saw him, catching her breath. He was bent down over the side of his cradle, reaching for his teddy which had fallen to the floor.

"My… boy." she whispered as she walked toward him.

The Sheriff reached the doorway, slightly breathless, then proceeded into the room. He stood closer to the doorway as he watched his wife and son.

"Do not cry." she whispered. She bent down and picked up the teddy then brought it to the cradle.

The boy looked up in awe, never taking his eyes from his teddy.

"Bear." he said as he took it from her. He hugged it to him then looked to the doorway. He began to smile and point.

"Oh! Fah!" he laughed.

Rhiannon observed this exchange, her eyes widened in disbelief.

"Yes, my boy. It is I. And tonight, we have someone special with us. Mother is here, my boy. Isn't that marvellous?" he smiled as he moved in closer.

"Fah! Mil!"

"Yes. She's getting your milk, child. Do not fret." he sighed.

"He… looks just like you." Rhiannon said.

"Perhaps. His eyes are all you. Robert once told me he reminded him of your brother when he was small. Said your brother had lighter hair, but everything else was just like him."

"Really? That's interesting to hear, since that was well before my time." Rhiannon said.

Just then, the boy, who'd been playing with his teddy, looked to the doorway. He set his bear down and began to clap.

"Oh! Mil!" he excitedly exclaimed.

"Yes, laddie. Heaven forbid you miss out on this." Lady Margaret said. She carried a small tray into the room and set it down on a table.

"Milady Rhiannon? Perhaps you'd like to give him his milk and feed him? I've a bit of his warm cereal he likes. It's ground oats mixed with goats milk, with a wee dash of honey. He loves it." the midwife said.

"Oh. Very well." Rhiannon said.

She bent down and picked the baby up from his cradle. Then, she carried him toward the table where the tray was. A chair was there by the window. She seated herself, grabbed the cup of goat's milk and held it to his tiny mouth. The child began to drink from it, fervently. He put his tiny hands over Rhiannon's encouraging her to tilt the cup as the quantity depleted. She took the cup from him when it was half full, then began to feed him his cereal.

The Sheriff watched them, feeling more at peace then he could remember ever feeling. His little family was finally together.

Rhiannon stared into the face of the boy, still in disbelief this boy was hers. She felt cheated. She couldn't remember anything about him, not even carrying him. She was cheated by the vile man who held her prisoner. And then, her husband cheated her, too. Or… did he? She still couldn't understand how she couldn't remember anything about carrying a child? This child couldn't be hers… could he?

"Are you… alright, my lady?"

"I'm fine. I'm just feeding him. It's not that hard." Rhiannon said, focused on the baby. She took another spoonful of the cereal and.gave it to him.

"Right. Good." he said.

"You don't need to supervise me, George. We are fine here." she said.

"Very well. I'll give you some time alone with him. When you're finished, we must pack his things and be on our way. I'll ask Lady Margaret to continue caring for him for awhile. We have some adjustments ahead of us, my lady." he said.

"Of course. We must bring him… home." Rhiannon said as she gave the boy another spoonful of his cereal.

"Are you sure you're quite yourself, Rhiannon?" the Sheriff asked. He was perplexed that she hadn't looked at him once since she started to feed the boy. And, it was only a short time ago she complained of vertigo.

"Yes, George. I'm fine." she said, still focused only on the baby.

"Very well. I'll give you some time to yourself." he nodded. Then, he exited the room to speak to Lady Margaret about the continuing care of the boy.

"They tried to do their damnedest to keep us apart. That vile creature who held us prisoner tried to break us both. We can't be broken — if you're indeed my…. child. We are oaks, not willows." Rhiannon whispered.

"Mil!" the boy laughed.

She mindlessly put the spoon back into the bowl, then held the cup to the child's mouth.

"Then… it looks like Fah tried to keep us apart, too. For whatever reason. Isn't that odd? Alright, I can forgive that he didn't know you existed for a time. Until he got that ransom missive from the vile man who took you from me! Fucking bastard, he was — that man who dared to take you from us. Thank goodness he gave you to Uncle Robert.

"Now, I understand that your Fah didn't see you for the first few months of your life, but he certainly waited a hell of a long time to break the news. I've missed so much of your milestones. Damn these people! The first months of your life have been all in upheaval. You will never endure upheaval again. Do you hear me? You shall be safe, and warm. Well cared for. There shall be family who love you, and there's a cousin on the way. Your Auntie Meridwyn is going to nearly faint when we tell her about you, and present you to her. We must break it to her gently. She's carrying your wee cousin right now." Rhiannon said.

The boy looked into her eyes, curiously. Then he pushed the cup away from him.

"Oh. You're finished now? That's a good boy." she smiled. She set the cup on the table beside her, then patted his back lightly to encourage him to burp.

The child grabbed the ribbons from her cape, put them in his mouth and began to chew on them.

"My goodness! You're still hungry?" Rhiannon chuckled.

"No, Milady. He's teething, you see." Lady Margaret called softly from the doorway, then she walked inside the room.

"Oh. I guess I never thought of that." Rhiannon shrugged.

"It will come, Milady. You're doing fine." Lady Margaret smiled. "I've spoken to your husband. I will stay on to care for the wee lad for a time. It will be nice to be back in town. I can resume my studies better there."

"Perfect, Lady Margaret. I appreciate your help more than you know." she smiled. "Where's George now?"

"He's speaking to his men, Milady."

"Oh. I see. Very well. That's fine, too. It gives me some time with the baby."

"Of course, Milady. I will start packing some things for the wee laddie, and myself." Lady Margaret nodded then turned to leave the room.

"Lady Margaret?" she asked.

"Yes?" the midwife asked as she turned back to face her.

"If he wasn't with me in that dingy abandoned castle up north… " she began, nodding to the boy. "How did anyone figure out I gave birth to a child?"

"Well, firstly, you lost a great deal of blood, Lady Rhiannon. Your husband found you just in the nick of time. It was days after you were found that you were well enough to be brought home. Mortianna saw you first, while they waited for me to answer the summons. Even then, you were still bleeding heavily. But, there was something else that was present that made the childbirth theory undeniably clear." the midwife hinted.

"What was that?"

"You had milk present to nurse your baby. Milk is only produced by women who have given birth." Lady Margaret said.

"Right. And, it's even present in women who have given birth to a dead child." Rhiannon sighed. It was only recently the bindings could be removed from her breasts.

"I'm very sorry for the loss of your daughter, Lady Rhiannon. Milord Sheriff mentioned it when he came by recently."

"Thank you, Lady Margaret. I'm afraid all of yours and Thomas Crumwell's efforts were for naught. I… wasn't expecting to be pushed down a flight of stairs, however." Rhiannon shrugged.

"I beg your pardon, Milady Rhiannon? Who did that to you?"

"It's fine. She's been handled. My… brother took care of her in the end — while she was trying to kill me and my Wardrobe Mistress' new assistant, Floria. The night of our wedding, as a matter of fact." she sighed.

"Oh, dear!" Lady Margaret exclaimed, putting her hand to her bosom. "Sounds like we've some catching up to do, Milady. What a time you've had!"

"Indeed. It… saddens me that I missed the opportunity to nurse my… boy, though." she sighed, then looked down to the baby.

"Oh!" he squealed with delight and put his hand to her cheek.

"You're here for him now, Milady Rhiannon. That's what matters most." the midwife smiled.

The midwife left her and started on packing some things for the child and herself, so they could be on their way expediently.

Soon, the Sheriff walked into the room.

Rhiannon stiffened as she held the baby to her, still seated in her chair. She had a mixture of emotions regarding her husband at the moment. True, he saved her life, probably more than once; but, she couldn't get past the anger at how long it took him to reveal this huge, gargantuan secret to her.

"How was it, my lady?" he asked.

"It was fine. He drank all of his milk, took all of his cereal. He's settled now."

"Good. Everything is in place. We're just waiting on Lady Margaret to finish up."

"Wait." Rhiannon said. Her eyes widened as a thought came to her. "What were we thinking? We brought our horses. We did not bring a carriage. I can't carry him in my arms and manage Sugarstar, too! Curses!"

"It's alright, Rhiannon. There is a carriage here. One of the men can drive it, the other can take the driver's horse along. Lady Margaret and our boy will be safe in the carriage." he smiled.

"He should be with his mother!"

"Right. So, shall we have Lady Margaret ride Sugarlumps?" the Sheriff said with a knowing quirk of his brow.

"It's Sugarstar." she sighed. "No. I guess not. Very well. Luckily, we won't need to travel too far. He'll need his teddy with him. And, some warm blankets, of course."

"Indeed. I've also instructed the men to bring his other toys and his cradle. It's not like we have an abundance of cradles circulating in the castle, my lady." he said.

"The rocking horse. Where's that? I haven't seen it."

"It's in the barn. The rocking horse can wait. He's not ready for that yet."

"I see. Very well." she nodded.

A bit less than an hour later they made it to Nottingham Castle. Everyone took their horses to the stables, and Richard steered the carriage closer toward the front door of the castle.

Richard and Nigel were delighted to be back. They wished that it wasn't so late so that they could speak to their mates. Nigel took the cradle to the designated room close to the Sheriff's private chambers. Then, they both took the portmanteau and a number of other bags from the carriage and showed Lady Margaret to the boy's room.

The Sheriff and Lady Rhiannon went into the child's room at the end of it, to see he was settling in.

The Sheriff looked at the number of bags that had been brought back from Guy's manor, astonished at the amount of belongings that were transported.

"Dear Zeus! What's with all of these bags, Lady Margaret?" he asked, pointing to them.

"Some are his things, and some are mine. I've got my books for my studies in one. Another bag has all of my sewing supplies. And, of course, clothes, his toys. Things like that."

"Sewing supplies?" Rhiannon asked.

"Yes. I made that teddy for him. Now, I'm working on a floppy earred bunny doll to give him for Yule. I think he might like that." Lady Margaret smiled.

"Right. I see. I imagine he will like it." Rhiannon nodded.

"Does this mean I can have my old room back, Milord? After I stay with the wee lad tonight, of course." Lady Margaret asked.

"I'll stay with him tonight, Lady Margaret. You could probably use a night of uninterrupted sleep." Rhiannon said.

"Are you sure, my lady?" the Sheriff asked.

"Indeed. Me and our no name boy have catching up to do."

"Right. Very well." he nodded then looked to the midwife. "Very well. You can have your room back."

"Splendid! And, when do I get to see my husband? I've almost forgotten what he looks like."

"He's… on assignment. I'll see what I can do."

"Guarding my manor, you mean." Rhiannon said.

Nottingham looked at her, curiously.

"Isabelle and I saw him. Almost a fortnight ago before we ended up at the abandoned manor in town — which featured a house full of crazed individuals, if you'll recall." Rhiannon sighed.

"Indeed. I'd forgotten about that. Right." he sighed. Then he addressed the midwife. "As I said, Lady Margaret, I'll see what I can do to arrange that."

"I'd appreciate that. Thank you, Milord." the midwife nodded. She looked to Rhiannon. "Good. Now, you had better sleep, too, Lady Rhiannon. Never forget to look after yourself first. I've a list of instructions I've placed on that table near his cradle. I will return to this room at first light and take it from there. The instructions have to do with things that might wake him, his schedule, his likes and dislikes. Do not fret. In no time it shall be you leaving me the instructions. Alright?"

"That's perfect. Thank you, Lady Margaret. We are indebted to you." Rhiannon nodded.

Lady Margaret nodded, then took leave of them.

"My lady, why don't you go and change into your shift and your dressing gown while I mind him until you come back. Fair?" the Sheriff suggested.

"Yes, George. That will be fine. I'm going to bring a pillow and a blanket for myself, as well — if you dont mind?"

"Of course not. Bring whatever you need. You sure you're up for this?"

"Of course, George. I must become inured to it whether I'm up for it just now, or not. He's a baby boy. He's dependent on us." she said.

"Indeed. Also, you should bring your opium in case you need a drop during the night. Just keep it away from him." he reminded her.

She nodded, then turned to leave the room.

Nigel and Richard headed to the Dining Hall. They planned to have a couple of celebratory libations. It seemed too late to head to the tavern, and nether of them could muster the energy to be bothered for a ride into town.

Nigel opened the door and the two stepped inside. They were pleased to see Alex was there. He looked like he was just about to leave, then he saw them and waved them over to his table.

"It's about damn time, lads! We were wondering if we'd ever see either of you again." Alex said as he shook both of their hands.

The men took their seats and Alex took another sip of ale from his mug.

"We were beginning to wonder the same damned thing, mate." Richard nodded.

"Indeed. Thank fuck that's over! Now, where is everyone? What a bunch of bores. It's not that late they need to be tucked in their beds, is it? Or, did they go to the tavern for a right piss up, mate?" Nigel asked.

"As far as I know, everyone, except Ancel and Gerad are in their rooms. I should be, too. Couldn't sleep. Had no stash of anything to drink in my quarters, so I came here for my sleeping elixir. Right boring, drinking alone, mate. I was just leaving when you arrived." Alex explained.

"Ancel. He's the new guy, right?" Nigel asked.

"Aye." Alex nodded.

"Seemed like a decent bloke." Richard shrugged. "How's he working out?"

"The bloke's a bleeding genius, if you ask me." Alex said.

"Really?" Nigel asked, his curiosity piqued.

"Anything to drink for you men?" the servant asked suddenly, surprising them as they didn't hear her approach the table.

"Aye. Ale would be nice, love." Nigel smirked.

"We haven't imbibed in ages, Nigel. Maybe something a bit better than that might be in order?" Richard suggested.

"Right. Brandy? Wine? Mead?" the woman asked.

"Mead would be your best option, mates." Alex said.

"Right." Nigel nodded. Then he looked to the young maiden. "We'll all take a good mug of mead. And, be sure to bring a few victuals out, too. The curly haired bloke to my right, and myself, haven't a moment of fun in two months time, love."

"I see. Right. I'll get started on that, then." she nodded, then left them to fetch their food and refreshments.

"So… what's this about the new recruit bloke being a bleeding genius — as you put it?" Nigel asked, his green eyes narrowed.

"I'd like to hear about that, too." Richard said. He sat back in his chair, folding his arms, looking across the table to Alex.

"He's very clever. Instinctual. And… the bloke knows things that most of us never heard of. I can't quite describe it. He's good." Alex said.

"What things?" Nigel asked, pointedly.

"Have you two heard about the potato looking bloke we're after?" Alex asked.

"We did, mate. That was Richard who sketched the funny looking bloke's likeness on a bunch of parchment you lads were meant to show to townspeople when questioning if there were sightings of him." Nigel pointed out.

"Ah. Yes! Sometimes I forget it was Richard who drew those. Right. Anyway, the bloke was captured once by Ancel and Mordrid. Everything was fine. Then, he escaped the dungeon by starting a fire. We've been looking for him every day since."

"No kidding, mate. Get to the genius part." Nigel said.

"Potato bloke stole a horse from a lady in town. A carriage driver directed Drake and Safforus to an area the bloke was seen riding the horse, deep in Sherwood. We were — "

"Who the hell is Safforus?" Nigel asked.

"Must be another new recruit." Richard shrugged.

"No. He's a member of City Watch." Alex said.

Richard and Nigel looked to one another curiously, and shrugged. Then, they looked back to Alex.

"Some of us were in that area today. We found the horse there in a small clearing, deep into Sherwood, right? The Captain sent us on a perimeter search around the horse. You know. Ordinary protocol. Ancel spotted a blood trail and followed it. It was the way he described it to us, how to recognize the pattern of it and know how to follow it. We were surprised." Alex explained.

"Right. Here we are, men. I brought a pitcher of mead and three mugs. I'm taking that one you have." the servant said to Alex. "It kind of looks rank right now." she sighed, taking the mug. She set the pitcher on the table and placed the mugs in front of each of them. "I've fruit and cheese on this plate to get you started. I'll be back with more for you fellows." she nodded, placing the plate on the table before them.

"You move like a bleeding wraith upon us, Miss." Alex sighed.

"You want efficiency, or loud entrances?" she pointed out.

"Why can't you be efficient and not scare us out of our seats at the same time?" Alex asked.

"Right. Here's your warning, Sir: look for me in a few moments when I return with more snacks."

"Nice one. Thanks." Nigel smirked.

The servant nodded and left them once more.

"Continue, Alex. What was it you learned from Ancel about blood trails?" Richard asked.

"Ha! Big deal. Blood trails!" Nigel scoffed. He poured a measure of mead into each of the mugs and passed them around. "Who hasn't seen one of those?"

"Yes, of course. But, did you know how to properly interpret them, Nigel?" Alex asked.

"Alright. I'll play. What did he say about that?" Nigel asked, then took a good swill of mead.

"The larger rounded part of the drop is the direction the wounded person travels. The pointy end indicates the direction they came from." Alex said as he nibbled on some cheese.

"Interesting." Richard nodded.

"He's an Investigator, right?" Nigel asked.

"Yes. One of three official ones selected from the Black Knights. Five if you include the Captain and Sir Guy." Alex said.

"Guess that makes sense. Sounds like he's suited for it. Seems to care more about details like that than anyone else would. So, Mordrid is obviously one of the other ones. Whom is the third Investigator of the Black Knights?" Nigel asked, curiously.

The servant arrived to the table, again, surprising the men with her quiet approach.

"Right. Here's the rest. We have ham, pheasant, bread, dates, and some custard tarts. Bon appetite!" she said as she placed the tray of food on the table, then set plates in front of each of them.

"Was that French at the end of that, Miss?" Richard asked.

"Yes." she nodded.

"How do you know French?" Nigel asked.

"The Sheriff's personal chef is French." she shrugged. "Let me know if you need more mead."

"Right. We'll be needing a bit more soon, love." Nigel said.

"I'll get right on that." she sighed, then took leave of them.

"Kind of impertinent, but she's quite comely compared to the other ones." Nigel remarked. Then, he took a swig of mead before continuing. "Right. Tell us, Alex. Whom is the third Investigator from the Black Knights?"

"Oh. Right. That would be Luke." Alex nodded, then took a swill of mead.

"Luke?" Richard asked.

"Who the hell is Luke?" Nigel asked. "How does some unknown random guy land a top Investigator spot?"

"I think you lads met him briefly. It was mentioned at a recent meeting when your names came up and Luke asked who you were. The Captain said that he did meet you both briefly. The day you men returned from the north, you met Luke at the portcullis. He was there with Drake and Adam." Alex explained.

"Oh. Right, the — " Richard started to say, but was cut off.

"No fucking way, mate! Not that guy? Not… Mr. Duplicitous who was hired by the Duke as a bleeding messenger when we were stuck way the fuck up north — damn near in Celt territory, for months! That guy, Alex?" Nigel shook his head and sighed. "You're bleeding jesting with me, mate, right?"

"No joke, Nigel. Luke is very good, too." Alex said.

"The tall scrawny messenger fellow? You can't be serious, Alex!" Nigel chortled.

"He's lean. I wouldn't say scrawny. Don't judge him until you work with him, mate. He's fast, good with a bow and a sword. He can climb things if needs be to surprise a criminal. You name it — he can do it. He saved Lady Rhiannon once. Plus, that bloke proved himself worthy of being one of us long before you two first laid eyes on him up north. We heard about that a sennight ago — the vengeance he took for his family members. He might tell you about it sometime." Alex said.

"Wild, mate. A lot of changes around here." Nigel said to Richard.

"No doubt. This shall prove interesting." Richard nodded, then took a bite of ham.

"Right. What's on the agenda for you tomorrow?" Nigel asked Alex.

"I'm booked in for Nichol's training session. Then, I'm free until the church venture at sunset." Alex said, then he nibbled on an orange slice.

"Same with us. The Sheriff told us about the training session. Said it was our choice which day we would attend."' Richard nodded.

"So, we chose the first session. We've already missed a lot. Who will be at that one?" Nigel asked. He took a bite of pheasant from his fork, then followed it with a swill of mead.

"Luke, Castor, Safforus, either Emory or Beric who are at the portcullis tomorrow, and us from the sounds of it."

"What about Mordrid, Drake, Adam, James? And, where the hell are Gerad, and the new guy, Ancel?" Nigel asked.

"The first three you mentioned are with the Captain in Sherwood tomorrow. You'll see them on the church mission. James is on assignment. Gerad and Ancel chose to stay in Sherwood, continuing the pursuit of potato bloke." Alex explained.

"What? Who's wacky idea was that?" Nigel asked.

"It was Ancel's. Then, Gerad volunteered to stay with him."

"Suddenly, the ho humdrum life we just left sounds slightly appealing." Richard muttered.

"I can't believe we have crossbow training with the messenger bloke tomorrow, Richard. Is everyone drinking crazy potion around here? And, why would anyone choose to stay in that cursed forest at night, when it's black as pitch in there?" Nigel sighed, shaking his head.

"You got me, mate." Richard shrugged.

"It's a bit comical — in a maddening sort of way — how one Investigator starts out as a messenger, the other one as a bleeding prisoner! I guess we've been away too long, Richard." Nigel sighed.

"It's certainly different, that's for sure." Richard agreed. He took a sip of mead from his mug.

"I'm telling you, Pay attention to Luke and Ancel. They deserve those roles. They're both quite good, lads." Alex said. Then he took a bite of pheasant.

"Right. We'll just have to see about that, mate. Won't we?" Nigel whispered evenly, narrowing his green eyes.

The way the torch light on the wall behind Nigel and Richard was highlightning an aura of darkness to the former, Alex couldn't help but notice. The light gave a backdrop to Nigel's shoulder length dirty blond braids. His hair was tied back and the hair looked clean and shiny for once, despite the style, but the juxtaposition to the shadow across his dark green eyes and chiseled features belied a quiet yet intense storm, startling Alex.

The time passed slowly — or, so she thought — for Lady Rhiannon. The child's room was set up like most of the other rooms. There was a bedchamber, and a sitting area most referred to as a den. She was seated on the lounge chair in the den, reading Erec and Enide.

Rhiannon was having trouble focusing on it, however, because she would set the book down, go to the doorway and frequently look in on the baby. He held his teddy to him as he slept in his cradle, side lying and facing the door. Then, she would repeat this every few minutes or so.

She felt ill prepared for this. She prepared for everything she ever set out to accomplish. She wasn't accustomed to this life at all, and was concerned herself she wasn't bonding with the baby. She felt a disconnect, even though she cared about him. Rhiannon wondered if she was cursed. She kept thinking the same thing: what manner of mother would feel next to nothing about having their brand new baby home?

During one of those moments she went to his cradle, just after the witching hour. She didn't know it, but her husband was quietly observing her, lurking in the shadows at the door of the bedchamber.

The child was rubbing his eyes and yawning.

"It's alright. You sleep now. You're home." Rhiannon said softly, as she pulled up his blanket. "Child, I need to tell you something."

The Sheriff narrowed his eyes as he continued to watch her.

"I know you're very little yet, but you must be patient, alright? I see you. You're beautiful. You look just like him. You don't feel real to me yet. You don't feel like mine… yet. I do care for you, because you're a sweet cherub boy. Please forgive me, though. You don't feel like… you came from… me. I don't feel that in my heart right now. But, you know I'd do anything for you. Just give me a wee bit of time, and we shall see. In the meantime, I need to work out my thoughts about Fah just now, because… they're confusing." Rhiannon sighed.

The Sheriff quirked his eyebrow curiously, at her last comment. He sighed, shook his head, then quietly took his leave.

He was more concerned about what she had told their son before her last comment. She felt no connection to him. She cared about him, and dutifully took care of his needs since she met him, but she didn't feel like his mother.

What the hell am I supposed to do about that? We can get through her anger, but what kind of miracle do I need to make her understand she is that child's mother? the Sheriff thought as he sharply exhaled and went back into his private chambers.

In the morning, Rhiannon was back in the private chambers. She had planned to dress, but she couldn't muster the energy to do it. She had been up for most of the night, constantly checking on the baby. Even though he slept through, she got less than an hour of unsatisfying light sleep.

The Sheriff came in after having a word with Guy. He found his wife half sitting on the sofa in the den, her head tilted back, asleep.

He smiled and walked over to her, bent down and kissed her forehead. Her eyelashes fluttered as she opened her eyes and looked up at him. Then, she bolted upward in a sitting position.

"Is something wrong, George? Is he alright?"

"He's fine, my lady. There was some wailing about an hour ago, but Lady Margaret has him settled again. Everything is fine."

"Oh. Right, then." she nodded as her eyes closed while she was still sitting up.

"You had a bad night, I see." the Sheriff said.

"Not because of him, really. He slept through everything. But, I was afraid to sleep in case I would miss something. I must have checked on him about a hundred times." she sighed.

"I see. Of course. I checked in a couple of times, too."

"You… did?" she asked.

"Yes. The first time you were at his cradle, so I left to give you time with him. The second time you were napping in the den. I went in to see him. He was asleep."

"I had no idea what… being a mother is like. This is tiring."

"Yes, my lady. You're not expected to wait on him hand and foot. You will never be expected to do everything on your own. You do realize that, right?" he reminded her.

"Yes. But, that was his first night with us." she said.

Just then, there was knock on the door. The Sheriff sighed and went to open it. Guy and Lady Meridwyn were there.

"She said she was coming to see Lady Rhiannon. I was free, so I thought I'd escort her here." Guy said with a knowing look.

"Right, do come in." he said, motioning for them to enter.

They stepped inside and Meridwyn walked toward the sofa.

"When are we planning to do the riding lesson with Isabelle today, Rhi? I'm ready for it." Meridwyn asked. Then, she took in her friend's appearance and frowned.

"Dear God! Are you alright, honey? What's going on?"

"I'm fine, Meridwyn. Yes, we can do that… later. I didn't sleep much last night."

"No kidding? Did you hear that baby howling about an hour ago? Why do the servants insist on keeping their brats here?" Meridwyn sighed.

"You… heard that?" Rhiannon asked.

"Of course, Rhi. I'm not deaf. Though, if that keeps up I might be in the near future." Meridwyn shrugged.

"George?" Rhiannon asked her husband, looking up at him, and trembling.

He nodded to her and walked toward her.

"I don't… know how to tell her, George?" Rhiannon whispered.

"Gis and I will start, Rhiannon. We have a better grip on the backstory to this since you don't remember." the Sheriff said, softly. He turned and nodded for Guy to join them.

"Tell me… what?" Meridwyn asked, with mounting confusion.

"Sit down, Meridwyn." Rhiannon said, patting the space beside her on the sofa.

"Did someone die? Or, is someone… dying?" Meridwyn asked nervously, as she took her place beside Rhiannon.

"No. The short of it is… you're an aunt." Rhiannon said, simply.

"Oh, my God! You're expecting a child, Rhi? How marvellous!" Meridwyn squealed, merrily.

"No. He's… already here." she said.

"What? Wait." she turned and narrowed her sky blue eyes on the Sheriff. "Were you unfaithful to her?" she demanded, nodding to Rhiannon. "Is that what this is about? You were dallying around, and somehow the bastard is here… somewhere. In the castle? Is that what you two are trying tell me?" she asked, looking to them both.

Before he could reply, she quickly arose from her seat and walked over to him. She regarded him with fury, and began slapping him on his arm.

"What is wrong with you? How dare you! She's the best thing that ever happened to you, and you know it!" Meridwyn shrieked.

"Meridwyn! Come. Calm down!" Guy said firmly, as he pulled her away from his cousin.

"Satan's teeth." Nottingham muttered.

"You've got it all wrong, Meridwyn." Rhiannon sighed. "Please. Come and sit. The real story is even stranger than that one." Rhiannon said, shaking her head.

"What?" Meridwyn asked suspiciously, then returned to her seat.

"It's a highly unusual story, but nobody was unfaithful to anyone." the Sheriff sighed.

"My love, do you remember that time that George and I were away? It was when we were looking for Lady Rhiannon." Guy began.

"Yes. And then, she was brought here to recover." Meridwyn nodded.

"Yes. Well, my cousin and I found her, along with the Captain. She was in a very bad state when we found her. There was blood… everywhere. She looked lifeless lying in this pool of… blood, yet — " Guy was interrupted.

"Yet there were no cuts present anywhere on her body." the Sheriff added.

"Then… what was all of that blood from?"

"She had given birth to a child only hours before then. Our child. He was abducted by her captor." the Sheriff said.

Meridwyn looked at all of them, staring incredulously with her jaw agape.

"And I… remember nothing of any of it." Rhiannon said, flatly.

"WHAT?" Meridwyn shook her head. "Of course you remember him holding you captive. You were gone for months!"

"Yes, I do. But, I don't remember carrying the child, or giving birth. I don't recall any of that. It's strange. We have this baby boy. It's like he was just dropped out of the sky at six months old, and… it feels like he belongs to… someone else entirely." Rhiannon said. She put her head in her hands and tried very hard not to cry.

Meridwyn looked at her, astonished at what she was saying.

Guy looked to his cousin with a look of concern. He always just expected Lady Rhiannon would be thrilled about the boy, and his cousin and she would carry on like a happy family once the boy was brought home.

"It's like a… fucking nightmare." Rhiannon muttered.

"You can't mean that." the Sheriff said.

"George, I'm a mother to my dead daughter. Even though she's gone, I'm still her mother. I felt more connected to my cat, Otis, who I raised since he was a kitten. But, that boy? He's sweet, don't get me wrong, but I feel like I've taken him away from his real mother. I… can't describe it." Rhiannon shrugged.

Meridwyn looked at her in astonishment.

"She's in shock." the Sheriff said. Then, he walked to his wife and placed a steadying hand upon her shoulder.

"And… we're sure this child belongs to Rhiannon?" Meridwyn asked, trying to make sense of everything, even though her question sounded stupid to her, even as she uttered it.

"Yes. We are sure. One look at him and you shall see." the Sheriff nodded.

"Bollocks! He looks nothing like me. He looks exactly like you." Rhiannon said.

"With your eyes, my lady." he pointed out.

"What if… she had her monthly — " Meridwyn began, but was quickly interrupted.

"Have you ever known a woman to bleed so profusely on a regular monthly basis that she is rendered unconscious and near death?" the Sheriff pointed out with a knowing quirk of his brow.

"Well, no… but — "

"She, uh… she looked like a murder victim, Meridwyn." Guy added. Then, he looked to Rhiannon. "Forgive me, Lady Rhiannon."

"It's alright, Sir Guy." Rhiannon nodded.

"So, the baby was taken from her, and she was left to… bleed out?" Meridwyn asked with a shudder.

"Yes. It never occurred to any of us a child was involved. I thought the bleeding was from some sort of poison." the Sheriff explained.

"Then… when did you find out there was a baby?"

"Once Lady Margaret examined her when we got her home. And then, a missive arrived — from him. A ransom demand. Naturally, he was toying with me. It was all a game to him." the Sheriff seethed as he remembered.

"He left further instructions. Another letter was found where he was supposed to meet George. Said he left the baby at a home somewhere in the north. Turns out — " Guy began, but was cut off.

"He left the child with Robert and Isabelle at their home in Pocklington." the Sheriff said, interrupting Guy.

"What? Oh, my God!" Meridwyn exclaimed.

"You see, Meridwyn? I told you the truth of this story was more strange than you could ever imagine." Rhiannon sighed, still trembling.

"Where is the lad? I haven't seen him in quite awhile." Guy asked.

"You've seen him?" Rhiannon and Meridwyn asked in unison.

"Yes, but, it's been awhile. He's a delightful laddie."

"Why don't you take him to see the boy, George?" Rhiannon suggested, looking up into his eyes. "I think I need a few moments with my best friend before I take her to meet him."

"Are you sure, Rhiannon?" he asked.

"Yes. I'll be fine."

"Very well. Come, Gis. We'll leave them for a time." he nodded to him, then the two men took leave of them.

"I don't know what's wrong with me, Meridwyn. There must be something wrong? Wouldn't most women be… happy about this? I'm not prepared for this. Not at all!" Rhiannon muttered as she began to cry.

"Oh, honey! There's nothing wrong with you at all. This is a great shock to you." Meridwyn said as she put her arm around her.

"He's a sweet boy. The problem is I feel like I've stolen him from his real mother. How am I suppose to get past that, Meridwyn?"

"Time, I imagine."

"We don't have time, though. He's been needing his parents for six months. He's growing fast. He can say short words. He nearly crawled out of his cradle trying to retrieve his teddy bear. He's six months old and he doesn't even have a name. How much more patient can a baby be for a mother?" Rhiannon pointed out.

"He's an infant, Rhi. He's never going to remember this time in his life. You know that!" Meridwyn pointed out.

"We just got married five days ago. It hasn't even been a sennight. It's only been a sennight since Sela was buried, and I haven't even taken time to think about that, except for when I'm wakened every night since with bad dreams about it; then, suddenly this six month old boy is foisted on me, out of nowhere. And, they're like, 'By the way, you had a child six months ago.' as if it's the most normal thing in the world! And… I swear, I've been shaking ever since." Rhiannon admitted as tears streamed down her face. She looked to her lap and angrily wiped them away.

"If only you could at least remember something of carrying him, it would make this more real to you. That's what's missing, Rhiannon. Of course, you feel no connection to him because you don't remember that. Who's been caring for him since he was found?" Meridwyn asked.

"Lady Margaret. At Sir Guy's manor in Nettlestone." Rhiannon said with a knowing quirk of her brow.

"What!" Meridwyn exclaimed. Then, she remembered having a quarrel with Guy some time ago when he said he was in Nettlestone assisting Gregor with tax collection. She kept asking when they could go back to his manor, and he kept brushing her off. "Hmm. Guess that does explain a few things." Meridwyn muttered.

"Like what?"

"Nothing important. What does Lady Margaret have to say about your memory loss?"

"She says it's my mind's way of protecting me, or… something of the sort. Because of the situation I was in, and the 'traumatic birth' as she called it. I asked her how she figured out I gave birth when he was nowhere in sight when I was found."

"And, how did she explain that?" Meridwyn asked, curiously.

"The excess bleeding was one thing. But, the thing that made it certain was… I was producing milk." a beat. "God damn it, Meridwyn! Why does everything in my life have to be so damned difficult?"

"It can only get better from here, Rhi. I do recall you mentioned something about… I'm guessing the day your baby was born?" Meridwyn said, squinting her eyes trying to recall exactly what Rhiannon told her.

"What? Tell me, Meridwyn. Anything that can help me remember him would be useful." Rhiannon coaxed her.

"It was the day you and I met in the gardens, Rhi. Remember we talked about… him, and how we both escaped? And, I told you I saw him… take you?" Meridwyn shuddered as it still bothered her that she witnessed that, but she was too paralyzed by fear to react appropriately.

"Yes. I do remember the talk we had. It was one of the best days of my life, Sister. That was the day we became friends." Rhiannon said, softly.

"Mine, too, honey." Meridwyn smiled and grasped her hand. "You said something else. Something about what happened before you were found. If I recall correctly, you said you remembered laying on a small uncomfortable bed. That you were… exhausted and frantic about something. Then, some type of bizarre heat rush came over you, you said your entire body. Then everything went black, and next you knew, George was there holding you. I'm guessing the heat rush was just before you bled. But… what if the reason you were frantic was because of your baby, honey?"

"It could have been. I've no way of knowing. I'd even forgotten I said those things to you. The only parts I remember of my time in that lousy place are not knowing where I was, and wondering if I'd ever see George again, and how… my captor was acting." Rhiannon sighed.

"There must be something… some way to elicit a memory of at least carrying your baby?"

"I always knew my first child would be a boy. And, he's here, but, it feels like I took him from his natural mother!" Rhiannon exclaimed.

"He's been here how long, Rhiannon? A few hours?"

"He was brought back late last night."

"One night, he's been here. This is only the beginning, Rhiannon. Don't be so hard on yourself." Meridwyn advised.

"And, imagine George waiting until last night to drop this existential news on me? And, expect me to just carry on like it's a normal day! Well, it's not a normal day. Nothing about this is normal. Everything about this feels entirely wrong!"

"You better take some deep breaths, honey. You're getting yourself into a right state. Just be yourself. Let the baby fit into your life. You don't need to be mother of the year right now. Lady Margaret is here to help, yes?" Meridwyn asked.

"Yes, she is."

"Then use her. I think you're feeling smothered by all of this right now. You must find a way to adapt. The child doesn't need to be attached to you every waking hour. You can still be you, and also be his mother." Meridwyn said.

"Really? I'm so overwhelmed by this, I feel like I'm standing on the precipice of madness." Rhiannon said, shaking her head, and angrily wiping away her tears.

"You're not, honey. Any lady would feel like that if they'd endured the horrors that you did. Just give it time. It will come. I promise you." Meridwyn smiled and then she embraced her.

A short time later, after Meridwyn encouraged Rhiannon to wash her face and brush her hair, they walked into the baby's rooms. Lady Margaret was seated on a chair in the den reading a large book. She looked up when they entered the room, then set the book down and stood from her seat.

"The men are inside with the wee laddie, Milady Rhiannon." she nodded.

"Very good. I'm going to take Lady Meridwyn in to see him." Rhiannon said.

"Good." Lady Margaret said. She looked to Meridwyn. "I trust you're faring well, Milady Meridwyn?"

"Yes. Everything is grand." Meridwyn nodded.

"Glad to see you're looking hale. Can't say the same about your friend, however. She looks like she's lost a couple of stone. Which is insanity, because she didn't need to lose weight to begin with." the midwife said, clicking her tongue against her palate a few beats, while folding her arms and shaking her head.

"Hmm. Now that you mention it, she does look noticeably thinner." Meridwyn frowned as she regarded Rhiannon

"I'm fine, ladies. There's no need for concern. Come. Let me take you to him, Meridwyn." Rhiannon said.

"Alright?" Meridwyn shrugged, wondering why she was suddenly eager for the visit, after everything she just said.

Rhiannon nodded for her to follow her to the door of the bedchamber. Meridwyn relented.

"Alright." Rhiannon whispered. "Let's get this over with so we can move on." she said, flatly.

Meridwyn looked at her with an eyebrow raised, suspiciously. Then, Rhiannon opened the door.

"Ah. There you are. Come in, ladies." the Sheriff smiled.

Guy was standing near the cradle, using the teddy bear to play with the baby. The child was laughing, squealing, and clapping.

"Come, Meridwyn. Meet your nephew." the Sheriff said.

Meridwyn looked to Rhiannon. Rhiannon nodded for her to go ahead.

Meridwyn walked over to the cradle, and reached down to touch the boy's cheek. He looked up at her and smiled.

"Hello, darling boy! I'm your Auntie Meridwyn. Aren't you just the sweetest wee thing?" she smiled. Then, she reached in and picked him up.

The baby held onto her and smiled. Then he noticed her braid and put it in his mouth to chew.

"Aren't you funny? Is this that teething thing I've heard about?" Meridwyn asked.

"Yes. That's what we've been told." the Sheriff said.

Rhiannon couldn't help but feel inadequate that Meridwyn recognized the baby was teething, having no experience with babies, yet that thought never occurred to her. She folded her arms, exhaled sharply, and looked to the floor.

"Bear!" the baby called out to Guy.

"Oh, you want your toy, I see. Right. We mustn't keep you waiting, laddie." Guy chuckled, then brought the teddy to him.

Rhiannon observed as everyone was behaving as if the messiah had arrived. Everyone, including her husband, knew how to be natural, at ease, and merry with him. Yet, she couldn't just go to him and act the way a normal mother should. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was being played. Controlled in some way in some sort of game. This had to be an elaborate game of sorts. Wasn't it?

The baby was hugging his teddy with one arm, and continuing to use his other hand to put Meridwyn's braid into his mouth.

"Isn't he adorable, Guy?" Meridwyn smiled.

"I can't wait for him to meet our wee Evie, my love." Guy said as he kissed her cheek.

"Well, looks like his Uncle and Auntie are a big hit!" the Sheriff chuckled.

"Indeed." Rhiannon nodded.

Everything inside of her was screaming at her to run out of there, but that would only raise more questions and suspicion. She would be as poised as possible, while praying this interlude would be over soon.

The Sheriff couldn't help but notice how detached from everyone else Rhiannon was. The more he thought about it, her words mirrored her actions from the start. Last night, when she was feeding the child before they left the manor in Nettlestone, he noticed that her actions were mostly task oriented. There was no emotion behind it. It was like someone pushed command buttons to force her to perform tasks. She really didn't feel a connection to the child. It was visibly apparent. He wished that some memory would come to her, because he couldn't think of anything else that would help her accept her new role.

"Have you thought of names for the lad?" Guy asked them both.

"We haven't had a chance to talk it over." the Sheriff said. "We shall do that tod — "

"He's waited this long. What's a few more days, right? I can't begin to think of that right now." a beat. "We'll let you know." Rhiannon nodded.

"You're serious, Rhiannon." the Sheriff frowned.

"Yes, I'm serious. Don't think he cares too much about it right now, do you?" Rhiannon shrugged.

"You don't think he deserves a proper name? He's six months old!" the Sheriff pointed out.

"Exactly. He's been nameless for six months already. What's another few days? I can't do that right now, George." Rhiannon said, matter of factly.

"Rhiannon, we need to give him — "

"I don't know, George. Maybe call him by whatever his real name is? You're all in on this elaborate jape. Maybe ask his mother what his name is?" she said dismissively, with a wave of her hand.

Guy and Meridwyn looked at her, astonished. Meridwyn took the baby to his cradle and set him down inside of it with his teddy.

"I'm asking his mother now." the Sheriff said, evenly. He folded his arms and regarded her, scornfully.

"Good one, George. Tell you what. You people can have your wee homecoming party in here. I'm about to fall over. I'm going to sleep. Do not wake me." Rhiannon said, firmly. Then, she turned and left the bedchamber.

"Satan's teeth!" the Sheriff muttered. He turned to follow after her.

"Leave her, George. Leave her be for now." Meridwyn said, firmly.

He stopped, then turned to face her.

"This can't go on, Meridwyn. I don't know what she thinks this is, but it's not a jape." he growled.

"She doesn't remember anything about him. She's had no time to prepare. That's what carrying a child is all about — a time for preparation. She doesn't remember that. To her, it's like she ended up with another woman's six month old infant. She didn't get a blessed wink of sleep last night. She's wound up tight as a harp string. If she feels tired enough to sleep, she should sleep. She'll make much better sense after a good rest." Meridwyn explained.

"Makes sense to me." Guy nodded.

"All this time I've waited for the perfect time to tell her. I've finally got him home where he belongs — and she's acting like that. It never occurred to me that the family reunion I expected would turn out like this." he sighed.

"She's right." Guy said, nodding to Meridwyn. "Let her sleep, and then see what happens later."

"She needs to remember… something of him. It's the only way she'll accept this. How do I get her to remember?" the Sheriff asked.

"You can't. It will come to her." Meridwyn said. "And, incidentally, she's wrong. I see both of you in him. She will, too. Eventually."

"Eventually is too relaxed a time frame for me to depend on… or him." the Sheriff said, nodding to the boy. "The boy needs his mother to get in the game. She thinks this is a game? It's a game of reality, and we need her to join our team." he said, evenly.

"Don't push her, George. She's confused and scared right now. Just let her sleep and go about your day. I'll look in on her later." Meridwyn offered.

He nodded and decided to just see what the day brings. There was no use grumbling about Rhiannon's reaction. He knew he needed to keep in mind the circumstances that led up to this in order to keep his anger at bay.

An hour later, the Sheriff and Guy were looking for Nichol on the first floor. He was glad to see Nigel and Richard coming from the Dining Hall. He needed to have a word with them.

"Ah! There you are! Welcome back." Guy said to them.

"Thank you, Sir Guy. It's good to be back." Richard nodded.

"Good to see you again, Sir Guy." Nigel said. "We were hoping to see Nichol before our crossbow training."

"We're still stunned he survived. I don't think we'll believe it fully until we see him." Richard explained.

"Indeed. Have you seen anyone else since you arrived?" the Sheriff asked, curiously.

"Only Alex. We had a drink with him in the Dining Hall last night." Richard said.

"You didn't mention anything about the specifics of your assignment in Nettlestone, did you?" he asked.

"No. We didn't say anything about it. I don't even think we mentioned where we were." Nigel said.

"Good. Let's keep it that way until further notice." the Sheriff instructed.

"Milord?" Richard asked.

"How are you going to hide the boy when he's wailing, Milord?" Nigel asked, softly.

"Look, men, I'm not in the frame of mind to explain this to people. Not right now. Nichol doesn't even know. There's a lot he doesn't know, actually. He's endured a lot, too. I will be the one to tell him. For now, just keep your mouths shut about where you were, and what your assignment was. Got it?" the Sheriff said, firmly.

Both men nodded in agreement.

"Has the two men who stayed in Sherwood last night returned, Milord?" Richard asked.

"No. Not as yet. Hopefully, we'll see them soon."

"A lot of changes around here. Alex told us that messenger bloke is now a top Investigator. Shocking, Milord." Nigel remarked.

"It won't shock you once you see him in action. There's a reason he was promoted to that role. Don't be causing any trouble, Nigel." the Sheriff warned.

"Sure, Milord. 'Twas only a comment. We were just… surprised. We first saw him in the north when the Duke tasked him to get a message to you, in July. We never would have expected this." Nigel explained, smoothly.

"Good. Because Luke will be at your training session. Teamwork amongst you is crucial around here. Two of the men are learning this now. You're astute. You'll probably figure out which two I refer to soon." he said.

"Right. They'll be noticeably absent because the two you're meaning are in the dungeon, I'd wager." Nigel shrugged.

"Wrong. Any of the men who are in the dungeon are those tasked to work there. Nobody from the Black Knights is being held prisoner." he said.

"Oh. Well, that's good to know." Nigel nodded. Then he looked down and smirked.

"Indeed." Richard agreed.

"Are we clear… Nigel?" the Sheriff asked pointedly, with a suspicious quirk of his brow.

Nigel straightened his expression and looked up at him, confidently. The Sheriff wasn't exactly sure, but something about him was different now. He began to notice this on Monday when he went to visit his son. Nigel was more muscled than before, which was noticeable because he was always strong looking, anyway. His hair was different, and so was his overall demeanour.

"Yes, Milord. Crystal clear. No mentioning of your… relative." he began in a whisper, hooking the first two fingers of each hand in the air with the last word. "Even though there are a number of your men who were part of that search and rescue mission; and, we must abide by the numerous staffing changes in a very short amount of time."

"Nigel!" Guy admonished.

"Mate, what the hell are you doing?" Richard whispered.

"I realize you've had no supervision in the last couple of months — " the Sheriff said evenly, but was abruptly interrupted.

"Supervision? Since when do I need supervision, Milord?" Nigel asked.

"Are you arguing with me, Nigel?"

"No. I'm just making a couple of points." Nigel said, confidently.

"Jesus Christ on a pony." Richard muttered.

"Right. As to the first point, some of the men know that the child who was kidnapped is my son. The only one who knows any of the details about that is standing beside me." the Sheriff said, nodding to Guy. "Now, regarding the second point — "

"You have to admit, that's quite a few staffing changes in a short span of time." Nigel pointed out.

"Regardless, those are done deals. Now, you can either accept that, or, you can move on." Nottingham said firmly, with a knowing quirk of his brow.

"Milord, I was only pointing out there's a lot for Richard and I to get accustomed to."

"And, I'm pointing out that the Sheriff you used to know only a few short years ago still lurks just below the surface. You might think I've gone soft. Grown a heart, or whatever. Do not mistake my composure for weakness! Understood?" the Sheriff said, evenly.

"Yes, Milord." Nigel nodded.

"Good. Try to get through your training session with Nichol without causing trouble."

"Of course, Milord." Nigel said.

"You can count on us." Richard nodded.

"I know I can count on you, Richard. It's Nigel who is raising my eyebrow." the Sheriff said.

"It's fine, Milord. I'm here to serve. As always." Nigel nodded.

"Good. Do keep that in mind." the Sheriff warned.

The men nodded and went on their way.

"Uh… is it me, or does Nigel look a bit… different to you?" Guy asked.

"Yes. He's different, alright. In more ways than one." he sighed.

"Where's Robert, by the way? I thought we may have seen he and Isabelle this morning when we visited the boy." Guy asked.

"They went to mass. Seems Isabelle must've been feeling better today. We were planning to attend, too. For appearances sake. That got put on hold."

"I'm sure the Bishop will understand, Cousin. Anyway, they should be back soon."

"Right. As to the first point, I don't care what the Bishop thinks about my absence." he said, firmly. " And, regarding the Wordsworths, if you see them before I do, tell them where my son is. I'm sure they'd like to visit with him at some point." the Sheriff said.

"Of course. Where will you be?" Guy asked.

"After I check in with Nic's group and give Safforus his starting wages, I'll be heading to Gilda's home to talk to her about the espial role." he said, quietly.

"Good. And, while you're doing that, do you want me to interrogate the new prisoners?"

"No. As we did with Father Titlittle, we're going to let them stew in there a few days first. That worked out very well with him if you recall."

"Indeed." Guy nodded.

"The only thing you need to do regarding the dungeon is have a chat with Joseph. Make sure those cretins are held separate from each other. I don't want them to have any opportunity to see or talk to one another. Got it?"

"Understood. I'll head there now."

"Also, I think it's high time we let Joseph sit in on tomorrow's Town Council meeting. Tell him he will be joining us for that on the morrow. Usually, we have Aldred do it, but perhaps the Council members might like to meet the actual Jailer for a change." Nottingham instructed.

"Good plan, Cousin. Consider it done." Guy nodded, then took his leave.

There was still some time before midday. The area in back of the stables — which was right next to the track and the pasture where horses were exercised — was used for training by the Knights. The men were beginning to assemble, and Nichol had yet to arrive.

Safforus had just arrived and was met by Luke, Alex, and Beric. Safforus was introduced to Beric, then they spoke about Alex seeing Richard and Nigel the night before; Luke's unusual assignment in the armoury; and that they must find time soon to assist Safforus with the shattered tree in Lady Hayward's yard.

"I don't understand. What exactly happened to the tree?" Beric asked.

"A lightning bolt hit it, if you can imagine." Safforus sighed.

"What does that look like?" Beric asked, curiously.

"I like the way Adam described it best. He remarked it looked like a dragon flew overhead, swinging a gigantic axe, and split it vertically down the centre." Alex scoffed.

"Pretty accurate." Luke nodded.

"What? It's totally the wrong time of year for something like that to happen, isn't it?" Beric asked, incredulously.

"Yes. One would think." Safforus nodded.

"We'll have to talk to the other lads about that, Safforus. We'll put our heads together and choose a time. That whole yard is in a right mess, and I'm not being funny about it." Luke sighed.

"Aye. Still can't understand how the hell that happened." Safforus muttered.

Alex suddenly noticed the two men approaching them.

"Here they come, Luke." Alex whispered.

"The two who have been away?" Luke asked, quietly.

Alex nodded. "The blond strong man guy has a chip on his shoulder, mate." he whispered the warning.

"What?" Luke whispered.

"Ah! Look, mate. I think that's the messenger bloke we met way the hell up in the middle of fucking nowhere in the north." Nigel began, nodding ahead of him to Luke, who's back was turned to them. "At least… I think that's him. It's hard to tell from the back, but he does look kind of skinny — like the messenger bloke." he said while squinting his eyes and tilting his head to the side, with an appraising glance.

Richard sighed, shaking his head.

Luke swiftly turned around to face them, folding his arms and assuming a wide stance as he looked directly into their eyes.

"Well, this looks like fun. Should have brought snacks." Safforus whispered to Alex, with a grin.

"Why is he so grumpy?" Beric whispered to Alex.

"I think he's angry about Luke's promotion." Alex replied, softly.

"The fuck happened to your face, kid? Looks like you got kicked in the head by a horse!" Nigel chortled.

"Right. Whom might you be?" Luke asked, flatly.

"Get a load of Mr. Duplicitous, Richard. Suddenly, he's acting all proper and educated — even though it appears he was mixed up in a tavern brawl." a beat. "Astonishing!" Nigel chuckled, nodding to Luke.

"You must be Luke." Richard said, ignoring his mate.

"Indeed." Luke said.

"I'm Richard. We've been away for a time. Six months total to be exact. The last two months — "

"Were boring as fuck, to say the least." Nigel sighed.

"Right. And, you are?" Luke repeated.

"Nigel. Richard and I have been serving the Sheriff for years. Imagine the shock to find out that not only are you a Black Knight now, but a top Investigator, too? The fuck did you do to land that role, kid? Blow him?" Nigel asked, pointedly.

"Nigel, what the hell, man? Ease up!" Richard exclaimed.

"How dare you! You know noth — " Luke started to say, but was interrupted, and surprised all at once.

"Oi! Who the bleeding hell are you to make such allegations, mate, right? Did I just hear you say that you think this Knight here, right, had to give Milord a proper blowy to be a top bloke… or whatever?" he said, nodding to Luke.

"Slayer?" Luke asked, incredulously.

"We didn't think you were coming?" Safforus remarked.

"Right. Well, since I'm new to the role, I thought it best I make the effort and show, right?" Slayer nodded.

"Quality!" Alex said, softly. He looked to the ground, trying hard not to laugh.

"I'm telling you, Richard. Everyone is drinking crazy potion around here. Yet another new hire for the Black Knights. Has he gone bleeding daft? A messenger, a prisoner, and now… " Nigel began, then frowned as he nodded to the new guy. "Well, I'm not exactly sure what you call that, but… a real character, for sure."

"Many new recruits. Indeed, Nigel." Richard nodded.

"I'm on City Watch, right? And, so is Saffy here." Slayer said, nodding to Safforus. "We're a bit like you people, right? Except, we're exempt from the uniform bit, and we work the streets. We're legit, mates."

"It's uh… actually Safforus." Safforus added.

"You're legit, are you? As legit as Luke here? One of the Sheriff's top men — all of a sudden?" Nigel demanded, nodding to Luke.

"Look, mate. I don't know who shat in your morning meal, right? You don't need to continue to stand here sharing the same air as us peasants, so, since there's plenty of space here, you can bugger off." Slayer said firmly, folding his arms.

"Who the fuck do you think you're talking to?" Nigel seethed.

"Well, I don't know who you think you are, mate, but it's obviously inflated in your own mind. Jealousy is a bitch, mate."

Luke looked to the ground and stifled a chuckle.

"What the hell? What's this about jealousy?" Nigel demanded.

"Definitely should have brought snacks." Safforus scoffed.

"I'll say!" Beric whispered.

"Fuck." Alex muttered.

"Nigel, let it go, for the love of — " Richard began, but was interrupted.

"It's obvious, right, the reason you got a stick up your arse about Luke. You're jealous. You saw yourself in that top bloke spot, and you're ready to spit nails. Understandable, mate. I get it. You'll have to learn how to deal with that, however. Until Nichol gets here, though, there's a spot over there you and your mate can go, right. Yeah." Slayer said as he pointed to an area well away from them.

"We don't take orders from you, City Watch tough guy." Nigel said, evenly.

"It's not an order. Just a strong suggestion, mate." Slayer nodded.

"Fuck you, City Watch guy. The hell are you two doing here, anyway?" Nigel demanded, nodding to Safforus.

"We were invited to participate by Milord Sheriff. You'll have to take it up with him." Slayer said.

"Bollocks!" Nigel spat.

"Nigel, ease up!" Richard admonished.

"This is a load of codswallop, Richard. We don't need to listen to tough guy from City Watch." Nigel argued.

"Right. Trot on." Slayer said, dismissively.

Suddenly, they were interrupted by the Sheriff, whom none of them noticed approaching.

"What's going on here?" he asked, suspiciously.

"It is nothing, Milord. We were just… making our introductions to Richard and… Nigel." Luke lied, while gesturing toward Slayer and Safforus.

"Indeed, Milord." Nigel smirked.

"Is he making trouble, Luke?" the Sheriff asked pointedly, nodding to Nigel.

"No. All is well, Milord." Luke nodded.

"Good." he said, then looked to Slayer. "Glad to see you could join the men today, Slayer."

"Yes, Milord. I'm sure we'll learn a lot at this session." Slayer said.

"Indeed. I just need a word with Safforus before you get started."

"Milord?" Safforus asked.

The Sheriff nodded for him to follow him away from the men. Safforus did so and they walked about ten yards away from where the men were gathered.

"Is there trouble, Milord?" Safforus asked.

"No." he said as he extracted a small sack from the pocket of his surcoat and passed it to him. "This is for you to get you started with your new role, Safforus."

"Thank you, Milord." Safforus smiled as he took it from him and stuffed it into a pocket of his cloak.

"Did I interrupt something over there, Safforus?" the Sheriff asked, nodding to the men.

"Not really, Milord. The guy with the braids was throwing his weight around, but Slayer showed up and set him straight." Safforus said.

"Good." he chuckled. "You're not going to look into that sack I just gave you?"

"No. I trust you, Milord." Safforus nodded.

The Sheriff nodded, and Safforus rejoined the men. He started to head to the stables, passing Castor along the way. Castor nodded a greeting to him, then kept walking. Then, he saw Nichol soon after. He was carrying a wooden chair in his right hand, a large sack on his right shoulder, and holding the walking stick with his left. He stopped to talk to him, before he continued on to the stables.

"I'll take that, Nic." the Sheriff said as he reached for the chair. "Could nobody lift a finger to help you? I just passed Castor moments ago. Why didn't he bring this?"

"It's fine, mate. I didn't ask for help. Castor must have been way ahead of me because I didn't see him. I'm sure if he saw me, he would have insisted on taking the chair. That was a part of what his argument with Luke was about yesterday on the lead up to their… abuse session." Nichol said with a knowing quirk of his brow.

"Seriously?" he asked, suddenly intrigued.

"Yes. Castor took umbrage with the fact that I was on the second floor of the Priest's home, performing my search. Told Luke he should have stopped me. Luke disagreed, and it escalated into all manner of malarkey from there, George." Nichol scoffed.

"I see." Nottingham chuckled.

"That's the thing. I made the choice to bring this." Nichol began, nodding to the chair in his hand. "If I were only to teach and observe, I wouldn't need it; but, I'm taking notes, mate. They're all going to get graded on performance. I brought ink, parchment, a quill, and a minute glass to time their firing speed. They're wrapped up and in that sack on my shoulder, along with the weapons. I wouldn't expect anyone's assistance at this stage."

"Fair point." the Sheriff nodded.

"So, were you just talking to the men gathered for my training session?" Nichol asked.

"Indeed. Richard and Nigel are back from their assignment. They will be joining you today. Also, Slayer unexpectedly showed. We didn't think he could make this session due to scheduling, but he made the effort."

"Very good. That's perfect." Nichol smiled.

"You seem rather chipper today, mate. Does that have anything to do with Lady Kaeliss?" he chuckled.

"Yes. I believe it might." Nichol grinned.

"Ah. I see. She let you bed her, Nic?"

"Indeed. And, how sweet it was. She's as good as any consort, mate. She let me take her every which way." Nichol winked.

"Good. I'm glad your day is off to a good start, Nic." he nodded.

"Something wrong, George?" Nichol asked.

"Keep an eye on Nigel. He's got a chip on his shoulder about Luke."

"Where were they, anyway?"

"They were out of town on assignment. I'm not ready to get into it right now, but I will tell you about it. There's a story behind that." he said.

"Alright. Looks like you're going somewhere, and I must get started." Nichol said, nodding to the huge sack slung over his shoulder which contained the weapons, bolts, and writing supplies.

"Did you bring the extra crossbow you confiscated from the church shed?" Nottingham asked.

"Indeed, mate. Hopefully it works just as well as the one Fingle gave to us. It will certainly help speed up the training session."

"Indeed. I'm heading into town. If you see Gerad and Ancel returning, they're to fortify themselves, then rest up for tonight." Nottingham instructed.

"Noted. I thought we would have seen them by now?"

"Hopefully, they're on their way here." he said, then he took his leave and continued to the stables.

The men were still gathered, the conversation staying heated as Nigel completely ignored Slayer's suggestion.

"So, you're telling me that you two beat the hell out of each other, and the only consequence to that was a slight change in your assignments?" Nigel asked incredulously, gesturing toward Luke and Castor.

"For fuck's sake, Nigel." Richard sighed.

"Why is that so hard to believe?" Luke asked.

"We returned with every bit of evidence he asked for, Nigel. And, we reported that we resolved our differences. We're moving on. Why can't you?" Castor pointed out.

"Because there's something obviously wrong with him lately. He never would have accepted this sort of conduct before." Nigel spat.

"Times change, mate. What would you rather he do about it, right? Run them through?" Slayer asked, pointedly.

"Nobody asked you to weigh in!" Nigel seethed.

"You seem to have a lot of misplaced anger, mate. Maybe you should consider a trip to the brothel and get that out of your system, right? Yeah." Slayer scoffed.

"Slayer, it's probably best we stay out of this… whatever the hell this bunch of codswallop is about." Safforus suggested.

"You may be right, Saffy, but I've seen this before. Arrogance in the form of cock measuring. Blokes trying to prove who the alpha is, right?" Slayer said.

Alex and Beric looked down, both trying hard to stifle their chuckling.

Luke and Castor looked at one another and smirked.

"Christ, this was a bad idea, signing up for session number one!" Nigel muttered to his mate.

"It's mostly you making it a problem, Nigel. Sorry to say, mate." Richard shrugged.

"Problem? What problem?" Nichol asked while setting the chair down on the ground.

"There's no problem, Nichol." Luke said.

"Look at goody two boots trying to ingratiate himself with our former Captain, Richard." Nigel whispered.

"Nigel!" Richard admonished in a whisper.

"I understand you two have been away for a time?" Nichol said.

"Indeed, Nic. But, not as long as you. Good to see you again." Nigel nodded and shook his hand.

"I'm glad Milord Sheriff warned us ahead of time about this. I might have actually fallen over otherwise. It's good to see you back and looking hale, Nic." Richard smiled, then shook his hand.

"We all thought you… were dead." Nigel said.

"Honestly? So did I, Nigel." Nichol sighed. Then he looked to Slayer. "I'm pleased you could join us today, Slayer."

"Thank you, Nichol. I'm ready to begin." Slayer nodded.

"Good. Now, as far as I'm aware, Safforus is the only one with crossbow experience. Am I correct?" Nichol asked them collectively.

All of them but one nodded in agreement.

"Oh, you've used them, Slayer?" Nichol asked.

"Not regularly, but I do have some experience, right. Last handled one about a year ago." Slayer nodded.

"That's a good start. You'll pick it up quickly. As for the rest of you with no experience — not a problem, men. Fingle told us that he gets frequent requests for these particular weapons from young lads — which he denies them — because of their ease of use."

"Seriously? They're a pain in the backside to load. Only one I ever saw use one effortlessly was you." Nigel pointed out.

"I should have taught some of you then, but we were rather busy in the months leading up to my injury." Nichol sighed. "I'm sure you'll have no problem, Nigel. You're skilled with your bow." he smiled. Then, he addressed all of them. "Anyway, I will start. I'll show you how it's done, and then you will go two at a time since we have two crossbows." he said as he removed the large bag from his shoulder. "I've already got a target set up." he pointed to a tree in the distance with a life sized rag doll attached to it. "Alright, men. pay attention. After I demonstrate, we'll see who wants to go first."

At close to an hour past midday, Lady Rhiannon was awake and fully dressed in her leather, covered by her cape, and leaving the private chambers to go looking for Meridwyn and Isabelle. She managed to sleep a little over four hours, and decided now was the best time to do the next riding session, because she had somewhere she needed to go afterward. That would involve leaving the property, but she was not caring about the consequences. She needed some space, and a few answers to her newfound huge dilemma, and she had a good idea where to start.

She was halfway down the hall when she saw Meridwyn walking toward her.

"Oh! You're awake! I was just coming to look in on you. Going somewhere, Rhiannon?" Meridwyn asked.

"We're going to see Isabelle. Now is as good a time as any to do the next riding session."

"I think she might be visiting the baby. I saw Guy not long ago. He saw them when they returned from mass. It was mentioned then."

"Really? Interesting. Right. You get your cape, and then we'll go tear her away from my brother and the… baby." Rhiannon sighed.

"Alright?" Meridwyn shrugged. Then she headed to her rooms which were nearby.

Ten minutes later, they walked into the chambers now designated as a nursery for the boy.

Lady Margaret was once again reading a large book while seated in a chair. She stood when the ladies entered.

"Ah! Good to see you back again, Lady Rhiannon. You… weren't looking well when you left here earlier."

"Indeed. I'm feeling better now. What is that book you're reading?"

"It's for my studies. It wouldn't be of interest to you. Just something to keep myself occupied with when your son has visitors, Milady. Your brother and sister in law are in there with him." Lady Margaret said, nodding to the doors of the bedchamber.

"I see. Interesting. We're going to go inside. We need Isabelle to come with us." Rhiannon said.

"Oh. I see. Very well." Lady Margaret frowned, then took her seat. She was a bit surprised the lady showed no interest in visiting with her son at this time.

Rhiannon nodded for Meridwyn to follow her. They walked toward the doors of the bedchamber. Rhiannon opened them and they stepped inside.

Robert was seated on a chair. The baby was seated on a blanket on the floor in front of him, with his teddy held to him, and the rattle within reach. Isabelle was seated on the floor with him.

"Izzy!" the boy squealed and laughed.

"Yes, darling boy. Auntie missed you. That's alright. We'll have lots of time to catch up now." Isabelle smiled.

Meridwyn noticed Rhiannon bristle, and took over by closing the door.

"Just what the hell is going on here?" Rhiannon demanded as she walked toward them, her hands placed on her hips.

Robert sighed and stood from his chair.

"A better question is: what is the matter with you, Rhiannon?" Robert asked with a suspicious quirk of his brow.

"What? Are you jesting right now? Can you not see the problem, Brother?" Rhiannon asked incredulously, nodding to Isabelle and the baby.

"Oh, boy. Here we go." Meridwyn muttered.

"I'm a bit bewildered. What problem?" Robert asked, shaking his head.

"Indeed." Isabelle nodded.

"For God's sake! Isabelle has been sick off and on for how long now?" she pointed out, then she turned to face Isabelle. "What are you doing sitting so close to him when you've been enfeebled with God only knows what? What if he catches what you have? Or, is the batwing tea the witch is supplying you with being given for something other than what you've stated?" Rhiannon asked pointedly, folding her arms.

"What the hell is she doing?" Meridwyn whispered, inaudibly, to herself.

"I'm feeling better today. And, this is as close as I've gotten to him." Isabelle said. Then, she looked to the floor as she felt her cheeks flushing.

"Really? Then, who picked him up and put him on his blanket?"

"I'm guessing Lady Margaret did. We haven't been here long. This is how we found him." Robert said, looking at her, suspiciously.

"Right. That's… good to hear, I suppose. We're going to steal Isabelle for awhile."

"What for? Don't you wish to visit your son?" Robert asked, incredulously. He began to slowly shake his head.

"I can visit with the boy later. He's living here now, so it's not like I won't be able to find him." Rhiannon shrugged.

"I see. So, you care if he might become ill, but… you don't want to see him. Is that right?" Robert asked.

"Not now, Brother. We both need time to adjust." she said firmly, nodding to the baby.

"Right." he sighed.

"Don't you have somewhere you need to be?" she asked, pointedly.

"I'll be heading into the armoury shortly after I properly visit with my nephew." he said, firmly.

"Great. Then, you won't mind if we take Isabelle with us for awhile." Rhiannon said.

"I guess not." he frowned.

Rhiannon nodded, then looked to Isabelle. "Come, Sister. Time is wasting."

"You sure you don't want to visit with him first?" Isabelle asked, nodding to the baby.

"I'll be seeing him later." Rhiannon said, firmly.

"Very well." Isabelle sighed. She stood, gave a knowing look to Robert, then followed the ladies toward the door.

As Meridwyn opened the doors, the boy looked their way and began to cry.

"Izzy! Izzeeee!" he began to sob.

"There, there, lad. It will be alright." Robert soothed as he went to the baby and picked him up.

Rhiannon exhaled sharply and shook her head, as Meridwyn closed the doors.

"My brother will visit a bit longer, Lady Margaret. I'll come by later." Rhiannon nodded to the midwife.

"He sounds upset in there. Perhaps I should see if Robert needs assistance." Lady Margaret said.

"I'm sure he can handle it. You should take a break."

"I take them when the boy is resting, Milady."

"Right. Suit yourself. I'll see you again later." Rhiannon nodded, and then she led the ladies out the door.

Once they were in the corridor, Isabelle looked at her, baffled by her behaviour.

"Where are we going, Rhiannon? And… why didn't you wish to visit your baby boy?" Isabelle asked.

Meridwyn nodded in agreement with her.

"Where do you think, Isabelle? We're doing your next riding lesson. Might as well get it out of the way, since you're feeling hale at the moment. Regarding your second question, I will visit him later." Rhiannon said, simply. Then, she nodded for them to follow her as she started walking.

"You barely even noticed him! Are… you okay?" Isabelle asked.

Rhiannon stopped in her tracks and whirled around to face her.

"What do you think, Sister? Am I okay, you ask? No. I'm not okay. A half year old baby boy just dropped out of the sky — out of bloody nowhere, and everyone insists he is mine. Guess what, Isabelle? It doesn't work that way. I told you three last night I've no memory of carrying him, or giving birth. Nothing has changed. I still don't remember. And, since I don't… he doesn't feel like he belongs to me. That's the way it is. That's the way it will be until either a memory comes, or his real mother shows up looking for her baby. Alright?" Rhiannon said, sharply.

Isabelle looked at her, astonished by her words.

"Nod if you heard me." Rhiannon sighed.

"Rhi, you need to ease up." Meridwyn warned, quietly.

"I will not! This is an absolute mess, and I'm going to get to the bottom of it. Alright?"

"Fine. Understood." Meridwyn said, shaking her head.

"You haven't said a word." Rhiannon said to Isabelle. "Did you hear any of what I just said?"

"I heard you, Rhiannon. Not sure I understand it, but I heard you." Isabelle muttered.

"Good. That's a start. I don't expect anyone to understand, because who the hell would? Now, as to the other matter, are you feeling well enough to ride?"

"Yes, I suppose."

"Grand. Let's go retrieve your cape and be off, then. I've somewhere I need to be after this." Rhiannon sighed. Then, she continued walking.

"What are you planning? Where is it you need to be? It's not somewhere outside the castle walls, I hope?" Meridwyn asked, with a suspicious quirk of her brow.

"There's no need for alarm. Everything will be fine." Rhiannon said, dismissively.

"You're leaving the grounds. I knew it!" Meridwyn exclaimed.

"Rhiannon, you mustn't!" Isabelle warned.

"Or, what? You going to rat me out — to George? That's rich. The same man who kept his baby a secret for six months, and waited until last night to tell me about it — with you and my brother there for moral support? I couldn't give a flying fig what he thinks about where I go right now. How about that?" Rhiannon huffed.

"What do you mean… his baby? The boy belongs to you both!" Isabelle exclaimed in a whisper.

"Until I have proof of that, for now, he's George's boy because… obviously!" Rhiannon exclaimed in a huff.

"Well, sure. But, you're part of him, too. Even Robert sees it. He says your son looks like your brother, Edward, when he was small." Isabelle said, softly.

"And, isn't that convenient since that's five years before my time?" Rhiannon sighed.

"She doesn't see it, Isabelle. Even though the rest of us can." Meridwyn said.

"All I see is a boy who looks very much like my husband. It's obvious they share blood. And, he waits until we've been married for four days before dropping this gigantic load of Byzantine fire on my lap!" she exclaimed in a whisper. "Look. I haven't the energy to discuss this right now. Let's just get to the stables and take that palfrey out for a ride."

"Very well." Isabelle nodded.

"That's fine, Rhiannon." Meridwyn agreed.

Meridwyn and Isabelle exchanged knowing looks of concern between them. Then, they continued walking to the Wordsworths' chambers.

The Sheriff had just secured his horse at Lady Gunilda's home. He was a little shocked when he first noticed the damaged oak tree which was evident even before her cottage came into view. Drake had told him about it, but words didn't quite describe the visible destruction of it, not to mention the debris.

He walked the path to her door and knocked.

Within moments, she opened the door and greeted him.

"Oh! Good day. Nice to see you again." Gunilda smiled.

"Indeed. Do you have a moment to talk?" he asked.

"Of course. Come right in." she said, then held the door for him.

"If you want anyone to find you here, just tell them about that tree, Gilda. Satan's teeth! What a disaster." he remarked, incredulously.

"Yes. Saff tells me a few of your men have offered to help him deal with it. Naturally, they all noticed and made comments anytime they came by." she said while she closed the door.

"Wait. Is that really necessary? Can't you just… wave your hands about, chant a few words, and make it disappear? You made the flock of doves you conjured disappear." the Sheriff pointed out.

"That was a bit different because those birds were borne of my imagination. They looked real, but, they weren't really real." Gunilda shrugged.

"What? Of course, they were real. We saw them!"

"I made them appear because I imagined it to be so. It was a conjuring, George. The tree is real and a part of the earth. Any living person or thing, anything belonging to this earth, I cannot make disappear. It's far too complex. I wouldn't even try, because it could have disastrous consequences." she attempted to explain.

"I… see." he nodded. The thing about that was, he didn't see, but he had something else to discuss with her.

"What brings you by? Can I get you a refreshment?"

"Brandy might be nice if you have it, but it's not — "

"It's no trouble. Take a seat, George. I'll be right out." she nodded, gesturing to the chairs in the sitting room.

He took a seat in one of the chairs while she left the room. Within moments, she returned with a flask in one hand, and two goblets held by the stems in the other. She set them on the table and began to pour from the flask, then she passed one to him.

"Thank you." he nodded as he took it from her.

Gunilda took hers and seated herself across from him.

"Where's your wife? We had a lovely time on Friday." Gunilda smiled.

"She was feeling a little… out of sorts today. She's resting." he said, then sipped of the brandy.

"Oh. That's too bad. I do hope she's feeling better soon."

"Yes. I'm sure she will be."

"What did you wish to discuss? Is this about Safforus' new role on City Watch?" Gunilda asked.

"No. Unless… you have a problem with it? He will still be able to fulfill his duties here." he said.

"No. That's fine."

"Good. Because what I need to discuss is confidential. The only ones who are in the know about it are a select few of my men, and… Rhiannon."

"Is this about what you spoke about on Monday when we had our meeting in your office, to which Lady Rhiannon took part in?" Gunilda asked.

"Yes. Are you up for this, Gilda? I'm officially offering you the role of espial." the Sheriff said.

"Indeed. If you deem me worthy for such a role, I'm all in." she nodded, then sipped of her brandy.

"Even with the risks associated with it?" he reminded her.

"Once I knew I was different from others, I've faced risks ever since, George. It's not a foreign concept to me." Gunilda said. Then, she looked to his immediate right.

The Sheriff wasn't sure, but he could swear he noticed her smile and nod. Her actions were subtle, but he still caught it. He looked beside him, wondering what she was looking at.

"Of course. I'd prefer if you don't mention this to Safforus. An espial is only useful if no one knows they're an espial." he said.

"Absolutely. Understood." Gunilda nodded. Then, her eyes followed to his immediate right again. It was coming through too strongly for her to attempt to ignore.

The Sheriff looked at her curiously, with his eyebrow raised. He took a sip of brandy, then turned his head to the right. He looked back to Gunilda, who was still looking to the right of him. Then, he moved in his chair to observe behind him. He shook his head and looked back at her, narrowing his eyes, suspiciously.

"You seem distracted by something. What exactly are you looking at?" the Sheriff asked.

"I'm… not sure you'll still want me to fulfill the role if I tell you, George." she shrugged.

"What? What is there? Did a bird fly in here, or something?" he asked as he took another look beside him, then behind him.

"No. It's nothing you would be able to see. Only I can." Gunilda hinted.

"Tell me what you see." he pressed.

"Alright. I'm not sure what you'll think of this, but… a young girl is seated on the right arm of your chair. She has her left hand on top of your right hand." Gunilda said, matter of factly.

The ladies were assembled in the same fenced in area they'd used before, well in back of the stables. They couldn't help but notice the training session going on in the field next to them.

"They seem intent on what they're doing. Wonder what Nichol is teaching them? Meridwyn mused, nodding to the men in the distance.

"Not sure, but I think they're using crossbows." Rhiannon shrugged.

"I couldn't tell. Was too busy noticing the change in Officer Nigel's appearance. It's… startling." Isabelle said.

"Really?" Rhiannon asked.

"Yes, but in a good way." Isabelle shrugged.

"I see. Well, are you ready, Sister? Think you can get up on this palfrey using that mounting block?" Rhiannon asked, nodding to the horse beside her.

"Sure she can. She did well the last time." Meridwyn smiled.

"I think so. Don't leave me yet." Isabelle said.

"Of course, Sister. You can do this. Do not worry." she nodded.

Isabelle got up on the mounting block, then she took the reins and held onto the pommel of the saddle, positioning her left boot in the stirrup exactly as Rhiannon had taught her. She struggled a few moments to pull herself up, but then she accomplished it. Victory! She managed to seat herself properly in the saddle, her boots firmly in place in the stirrups.

"Well done, Isabelle. You managed to mount her with more ease this time. That's good. You never want to land hard in the saddle. It would scare her, and… that wouldn't be good for you." Rhiannon explained.

"Yes, you did say that, Sister." Isabelle nodded.

"Also, it would hurt her back. Remember, she is an animal, but she's not impervious to pain and injury, and she's not stupid." Rhiannon explained.

"Oh. I see. Alright." Isabelle said.

"Is that why you name them?" Meridwyn asked nodding to the horse. She was leaned against the fence, her elbows resting on the top of it.

"Some animals can be gentle. They deserve respect. Giving them a name helps when I care for them. Like, when I'm feeding my horse." Rhiannon shrugged.

"I guess that's sort of sweet. I feel a bit better up here than the last time." Isabelle smiled.

"Good. I'll walk with you for a bit. Then you can try it without me at your side. Agreed?"

"Yes. I'd feel better if you accompany me to start. Very well." Isabelle said.

Then, at Rhiannon's cue, she urged the horse into motion, while Meridwyn stood observing, leaned against the fence.

The training session was off to a good start. Alex and Castor had just finished their attempts with the crossbow.

"Very good, men! You just need to work on your speed loading the bolts and firing them. Both of you averaged two bolts in a minute." Nichol smiled. Then he began writing notes on the parchment on his lap. He was using a small wooden tray under the parchment.

"No offence, Nichol. But, two of them in a minute seems pathetic to me." Alex shrugged.

"He's not wrong." Castor added, nodding beside him to Alex.

Nichol shook his head.

"No. These are different than longbows. Two bolts per minute is actually good." he said.

"Seriously, Nic? Most of us who use them can fire at least ten arrows a minute from our longbows. What's the purpose of these, anyway?" Nigel asked, nodding to the weapons.

"Greater accuracy and force." Nichol said. He grabbed a bolt and held it up to show the men. "These babies have been known to pierce plate armour. They've a greater chance of getting through chain mail armour. Much less strength is needed by the user to achieve that. The crossbow does all of the work. All you need to do is focus on your target, and release the bolt."

"Nic? Are we expecting an ambush, or something similar? Why does the Sheriff want us learning how to use these when they sound like they'd be best suited for battle?" Richard asked.

"Good point, mate. Yeah." Slayer added.

"Are we going to need them at the portcullis?" Beric asked.

"I can't comment on his reasoning for each of you to be properly trained to use these. I can say that he thinks we'll be better equipped, and prepared. Crossbows will give us an edge. As to who will be using them, and where, that will be his decision." Nichol said.

"I see. Right then. I'm all for greater force, and improved accuracy." Nigel smirked, folding his arms.

"Good! You and Slayer are up next, then." Nichol grinned.

"Seriously?" Nigel frowned.

"That sounds good to me, Nichol. I'll knock his bolts out of the way." Slayer scoffed.

"No, you won't. You're still taking turns, or I won't be able to judge your skills individually. You go first, Slayer. Then, Nigel will follow." Nichol instructed as he passed the crossbows to each of them.

Nigel took his, then he went to stand with Richard by the fence that separated the field they were using from the horse exercise area.

"Ha! I think I'd rather be riding on that narrow path over the ravine at Dead Man's Curve than take a turn with that guy." Nigel said to Richard.

"No, mate. Nobody wants to do that. You'll be fine. You're good with your bow." Richard said.

At this point, Isabelle was riding the palfrey near the fencing that separated the horse exercise area from the area to the right of that where the Black Knights were training. The men weren't far from the fence. She saw Nichol passing weapons to Officer Nigel and another fellow she didn't recognize. Her ears pricked up moments later when she heard:

"I think I'd rather be riding on that narrow path over the ravine at Dead Man's Curve… "

She couldn't help but wonder… where was this Dead Man's Curve place? How could she find out? Now, she was quite curious…

"What's going on over there with those ladies? Two of them look like the ones who visited Lady Hayward the other day." Safforus said to Luke, nodding to the fenced in area next to where they were gathered.

"You're right. They did visit her on Friday. Looks like they might be teaching Lady Isabelle to ride." Luke shrugged.

"How can you tell that?" Safforus asked.

"Well, for starters, there's only one horse. But, the mounting block is a dead give away." Luke said, pointing it out to him.

"Ah! Yes. Quite right. I didn't notice that before." a beat. "What do you suppose the problem is with the guy with the braids?" Safforus whispered.

"I wasn't certain at first, but I think Slayer hit the nail on the head, and… I'm not being funny about it." Luke sighed.

Back at Lady Gunilda's home, the Sheriff was astonished at her observation of the spirit sitting so close to him.

"What?" he asked incredulously, then looked to his right again. "Describe her."

"She's quite young. Maybe nine or ten years. Looks like she could be related to you because there's a strong resemblance. Quite a pretty little girl. Whomever she is, she is protective of you. This is… the third time I've seen her with you." Gunilda said.

"Really? You can see her plainly as if she were… actually here?" the Sheriff asked, then looked beside him to his right.

"Yes. And, she is actually here. Just in spirit form. Only people like me would be able to see her. What I'm picking up is that… she senses you need her right now, for whatever reason." Gunilda smiled.

He looked down to the goblet in his hand. "Sela." he whispered, inaudibly, to himself.

"She just squeezed your hand, George." she said, softly.

"What?" he asked, incredulously. He looked to his hand, then to his right.

"Don't think of it too much. I told you it might prompt you to reconsider your offer."

"It's just… very strange to hear. No. I trust you, Gilda. I know you're right for this role." the Sheriff said.

He set his goblet on the table, then reached into the pocket of his surcoat and extracted a small leather drawstring sack. He stood, then walked toward her and passed it to her.

"This is to get you started with your new role." he said.

She took it from him and smiled.

"Thank you, George. Anyone you need me to zero in on right now?" Gunilda asked.

"Did Safforus mention anything of our mission last night?" he asked as he resumed his position in the chair. He picked up his goblet and sipped from it.

"Just that he was assisting you and your men, along with the other City Watch fellow. That was basically it." she shrugged.

"You and Drake were present at my wedding ceremony, correct?"

"Yes. We were seated at the back."

"Remember the interruption at the start of the ceremony when the Priest and four of his followers were escorted out of the cathedral?" he asked.

"I do." she nodded, then took a sip from her goblet.

"That Priest was spearheading a rebellion. He told Guy during questioning that he estimates there's approximately seventy five members of his group of rebels. We have seven of them in the dungeon at the moment, including him, and five of his enforcers. There's another one out there by the name of Gunter Thorne, and, I suppose… sixty eight others to round up and question. I'm not expecting to get all of them. But, I need information on where to find this Gunter bloke, and any others." Nottingham explained.

"I see. I'm sure I can manage that." Gunilda nodded.

"It turns out Slayer, the other member of City Watch, was approached by one of the Priest's henchmen about joining this cult. It was mentioned last night. He and Drake captured the bloke who tried to recruit Slayer, and took care of one other." the Sheriff said.

"Did they? Very good." she smiled.

"Drake said that those two men acted like they knew Slayer from the tavern. Slayer is the security man there." the Sheriff explained.

"Oh, right. I know whom you mean. He's very efficient with the riff raff, yet pleasant and affable with the rest of the patrons. I can see why you employed him." Gunilda nodded.

"Slayer might know more than even he realizes about these characters, Gilda. He might be able to point you in the right direction. But, as I said, only myself and a limited number of my men know about me considering you for this role, including Drake, and my wife — only because she was present at our meeting nearly a sennight ago. So, you'll need to tread carefully trying to gather information." he warned.

"Understood. I wouldn't be any good in this role if people knew the truth of why I was prying."

"That's where your intelligence and… feminine charm comes in. As well as your heightened senses." he said with a knowing quirk of his brow.

"Not a problem, George. I'll see what I can find out and report back to you." Gunilda nodded.

"Perfect. Make sure you're armed, just in case."

"Of course." a beat. "Any ideas on whom the… little girl spirit might be? Or, should I even ask?"

"I think I know, but the age doesn't match at all." he said.

"She might have chosen this age so she can… relate to you better."

"Not sure what good that did when I can't see her, or communicate with her." Nottingham shrugged.

"Trust me. She has heard every word you've said. She looks to you with pride, and adulation." Gunilda smiled.

"Oh." he muttered. "If it's whom I think it is, I'll perhaps tell you about it sometime, but, not now."

"Understood. I just thought you might like to know. Today, I couldn't ignore her. She is too strong a presence." Gunilda explained. She took another sip of brandy before she continued. "Once I obtain the particulars about this Thorne fellow and any others involved in this… cult, as you put it, am I to question them at all?"

"No. Leave that to us. It's too dangerous. Get the information to me, and we'll take it from there. I don't want you getting anywhere near those men. They're more than likely armed to the teeth. Promise me you'll heed my warning." he said, firmly.

"Very well. Understood. I promise." Gunilda agreed.

"Very good. Looks like we're off to a very good start. Now, one more… delicate matter to cover before I leave you." the Sheriff hinted.

"Alright. What is that?"

"Any fool can see that there's an undeniable… connection between you and Drake. Would you agree?" he asked directly, with a knowing quirk of his brow.

"I hesitate to respond to that, but… yes." Gunilda sighed.

"How far has that gotten?" the Sheriff pressed. Then, he looked to his goblet as he sipped of the brandy.

"We're mostly friends, but… we've kissed a couple of times." Gunilda admitted. She sighed and looked downcast. Here it comes. Drake warned me of this! She seethed as she stewed in her thoughts.

"So, you haven't lured him to your bed as yet?" he continued to question, giving her a knowing look.

"Now, why would you assume that would be my doing?" she shot back.

"Come on, Gilda. You were a master seductress nineteen years ago." the Sheriff said with a knowing quirk of his brow.

"If you'll recall, you didn't need coaxing. It takes two, George." Gunilda sighed.

"Have you bedded him?" he demanded, exhaling sharply.

"No. We haven't been intimate." Gunilda frowned.

"Good. Keep it that way." the Sheriff warned.

"Now, when did you start acting like everyone's great grandsire? Honestly, what difference does it make what Drake and I do in private… or, anyone else for that matter?" Gunilda argued.

"I have a few rules for my staff, Gilda. There's only one that I can think of pertaining to you. Rule number one is: people who work for me must not mix romantically. It presents nothing but problems. Both of you work for me." he said, firmly.

"He's not just some fling. I… care about him. He's the only man who's never objected to my… abilities." Gunilda sighed.

"Right. Maybe he lacks a self preservation factor. It matters not. Unless you hand over that black leather sack I just gave you and turn down the offer, you both still work for me." he pointed out.

"Technically, yes; but… it's not like we will ever work together?" Gunilda shrugged.

"That remains to be seen. You could be in the same place as you're trying to gather information. It's still a firm no, Gilda. Understood?"

"Yes. I'm not too happy about it, though." Gunilda sighed.

"I'm sure." he sighed. Then he shook his head, frowning. "Ha. great grandsire, right? Did you just compare me to boring old ancient blokes?"

"Why… yes, George. I believe I did." she smirked, with a knowing quirk of her brow. Then, she sighed, straightening her expression. "This is nonsense, and not who you are at all. When I knew you long ago, you would have given one of your men a congratulatory slap on the back for getting some. Both Drake and myself value our roles under your employ. Nothing would happen to jeopardize either of our work." Gunilda explained, firmly.

"I'm a better leader today than when you knew me, and it's from experience and logic. There's too many variables and probabilities. I don't need to justify my reasoning. For now, the answer is no." the Sheriff said, sternly.

Gunilda sighed. She was missing Drake, and her desires for him were heightened. She would have to contemplate this on her own.

"Very well. Understood." Gunilda nodded.

"Good. It's all settled, then. Thanks for the brandy. Oh, and don't forget to heed my words: arm yourself when you begin your assignment. Don't imbibe when you're there. You need to keep your head about you. You can take Drake with you if he's free, have him escort you home. Just don't fuck him. Don't be out too long after dark, Gilda, especially if you have no escort. That puts a target on you when malcontents spot you as you're riding alone. Ask Safforus to escort you if you're going to be late." Nottingham instructed her.

"My Goddess, George! You're sounding like you care about my welfare?" Gunilda scoffed with a knowing quirk of her brow.

"Of course, I do. No lady should be out galavanting after dark." he sighed.

"Very well. Duly noted, George."

"Good. Hopefully, the 'don't fuck Drake' part is at the top of the list on your notes." he smirked. Then he straightened his expression. "Right. I'll leave you to it, then. I'll be off." the Sheriff nodded. He stood, then headed to her door.

Isabelle had a productive riding lesson and was heading back toward the fence where Rhiannon and Meridwyn stood. She couldn't help but notice the change in her sister in law since their session started. She was smiling more. Carefree and light. Just the way she generally was, but, of course, there had been no mention of the baby since they headed down the stairs of the castle earlier. Isabelle sighed. She hoped Rhiannon would come to terms with her new role soon. It didn't seem right that the wee lad's mother showed disinterest in him.

She slowed the horse on approach and came to a stop near the mounting block, which was a short distance from the ladies.

"That was good, Isabelle. Well done! You seem more at ease with her now." Rhiannon smiled.

"It feels a bit more natural now, even though I'm so high up from the ground."

"Eventually, it won't bother you so much. Practice will help you be more comfortable with it, and that will help you control the horse. They sense fear. They can also tell when their rider respects them." Rhiannon explained.

"Yes, so you've said, dearest. Is there more you want me to do right now, or are we finished for the day?"

"It's fine, Isabelle. You may dismount. We accomplished a lot with this session." Rhiannon smiled.

"You're starting to look like an accomplished rider, Isabelle. You were grand." Meridwyn smiled.

"Thank you, ladies." Isabelle nodded.

Rhiannon moved the mounting block closer to the horse, then Isabelle began to dismount.

The training session was progressing smoothly. Luke and Richard followed Nigel and Slayer. All had handled the crossbow well and had good aim. Luke and Nigel managed three bolts a minute, the others fired two. Next, it was Beric and Safforus. Beric was quite pleased, thinking he'd have some trouble with it, but, he also managed to fire two bolts in a minute.

Safforus was last in line to try his hand at the crossbow. He rubbed his hands together and took a deep breath as he picked it up and loaded it.

"Good, Safforus. Remember, you were skilled with this when you used it in the Holy Land. It won't take you long to get there again." Nichol encouraged him. He leaned forward on the chair to observe, the small minute glass in his hand, at the ready.

Safforus loaded the first bolt. He was crouched down, focused on the target that was seventy yards away. Then, he hit the trigger mechanism, and the bolt managed to hit close to centre mass on the target.

"Well done, Saffy! Go, mate. Yeah!" Slayer cheered.

"You got it, Safforus. Keep going." Nichol said, while watching Safforus, as well as the minute glass.

Safforus had already fired the second bolt, and was loading the third. He quickly aimed and released, then he loaded the fourth. All hit the chest on the target, very close to centre, but the fourth one hit dead centre.

"Holy hell!" Richard exclaimed in a whisper.

"You did it, Safforus. Well done! Perfect aim, and you fired off four in a minute. Impressive." Nichol smiled, then began to jot a few notes.

"Unreal. You beat the whole lot of us?" Nigel said, shaking his head in disbelief.

"I had a lot of experience with it in the Crusade." Safforus shrugged.

"It's not a competition, Nigel." Nichol said.

"Isn't it?" Nigel spat.

"Only for you, it would seem." Luke said, evenly.

"Alright, men. That's it for today. Those of you that wish to improve your speed and accuracy are welcome to come to the next session." Nichol said. He stood from the chair after placing the writing supplies back into the bag.

"Great. When will that be, Nichol?" Luke asked.

"That will depend. Ultimately, Milord will decide who attends the next session based on people's assignments." Nichol said.

"But, since we've been taught already, couldn't we just come out here on our own with the crossbows and have a go that way, Nic?" Castor asked.

"Indeed." Nigel nodded.

"Again, that will depend on your assignments."

"I see." Richard nodded.

"Right then. You're all dismissed." Nichol nodded.

"Right. I'll be off then. Still have time to catch a bit more shuteye before I report for duty at the other job. Yeah." Slayer said.

"What job is that, that you need to sleep during the day?" Richard asked.

"Security at the local tavern. Perhaps I'll see you there sometime? Bring your mate, right. The bloke needs to loosen up a bit." he said, nodding to Nigel.

"A good Knight never gets so drunk that they can't perform. Something you should keep in mind for this… City Watch thing you're doing." Nigel said.

"I don't need to, mate, right? I'm well aware. I deal with fools like that on the daily. I don't generally drink when I'm being paid to perform, so… there's that, right."

"Sure." Nigel scoffed.

"Alright, men. Don't start squabbling. That's how Luke and Castor started before they learned things the hard way yesterday. Those of you on assignment, get back to your posts. The rest of you can ask Sir Guy if he has something for you." Nichol instructed.

Safforus and Slayer thanked Nichol, then bid goodbye to the men before heading to the stables to retrieve their horses. The rest scattered. Castor took the chair from Nichol, insisting he carry it since he was heading inside the castle, too.

As they left the area, Luke saw Ladies Meridwyn and Isabelle leaving the stables. They walked past him, not noticing him as they headed to the castle doors. Then, he saw Lady Rhiannon. She was heading into the stables. He wondered if she was going to see to the horse Lady Isabelle had just been riding. Then, he noticed Gerad and Ancel coming out of the stables. Nichol wasn't far behind Luke. He followed Luke as Luke was walking over to greet them.

"Good. You made it!" Luke smiled as he greeted them.

"It's a bleeding miracle. It was black as pitch in there last night. Couldn't see a damn thing, but there sure was enough racket in there." Gerad sighed. Then, he took another look at Luke and frowned. "The hell happened to your face, mate?"

"A little… incident took place yesterday during the search at the Priest's home. It's fine." Luke shrugged.

"You sure? It looks dreadful, Luke." Ancel said.

"It's fine, lads. Now, what's this about racket?" Luke asked.

"Wildlife mostly, wind, and — " Ancel started to say, but was interrupted.

"Those cursed wind chimes in the damn trees, mate. Leftovers from Locksley and his rabble." Gerad sighed.

"There you are, men. Good to see you back." Nichol nodded as he closed in on them.

"Yes. Even though it was unproductive, we're glad to be back, too." Ancel said.

"You got that right, mate." Gerad nodded.

"I see. I've a message for you from the Sheriff. He is out at the moment, but he left instructions for me to pass on to you." Nichol said.

"What is that?" Ancel asked.

"Both of you are to fortify yourselves in the Dining Hall, then report to your rooms directly after. You need to rest up. You'll be needed in a few hours. Things happened yesterday that you missed. We're continuing with that this evening. You'll be briefed later."

"That sounds perfectly fine to me." Gerad said.

"Indeed. How long before we're needed again?" Ancel asked.

"You have until just before sundown."

"Come. I'll walk you to the doors. I'm needed back in the armoury." Luke said.

"What are you doing in the armoury?" Gerad asked.

"Guard duty with Borin." Luke said.

"What?" Ancel asked.

"He's following, Milord's orders. Let's go." Nichol urged them. "Anything to brief us on from your overnight mission in the forest, men?"

"Only a couple of things. We'll tell you as we make our way inside." Ancel said.

Rhiannon was halfway to her destination. She was glad to have this opportunity to ride her horse. It had been a sennight since she took the horse out when she visited Milo Medley's home, and before that she couldn't recall when she was free to go riding through town on her own.

It was quite chill, so she was glad to have brought her cape, even though she was dressed in her leather underneath it. She was content to be riding again, but it didn't take away her frustration with the current state of things back at the castle.

As she urged the horse to gallop through town on the main road, she gave a lot of thought to it. Everyone insisted that the child was hers. Wouldn't she know if he was hers? She wondered. It seemed out of character for her husband to contrive of such an elaborate scheme, but it felt wrong to her. Like everyone was in on this cursed game she'd been thrust into. She needed a memory to come — if one existed at all — to prove their claims.

In the distance, a rider was approaching, heading in the opposite direction of her. The rider was dressed in black, riding a black stallion. She got to maybe twenty yards away when realization hit her.

"Curses! Where the hell is he coming from?" she sighed.

It was George. She recognized him immediately.

"Come, Sugarstar. We're not doing this now." she said as she steered the horse right onto a narrow path. She kept her head low, and hoped he hadn't seen her.

He noticed immediately. He shook his head and sighed. Why she kept her head down was beyond him. He recognized her, and he also recognized her horse.

"The hell is she doing, ignoring my instructions?" he muttered.

The Sheriff knew that trying to reason with her now wouldn't work. So, he deliberately passed the path he saw her head for, then found a spot behind some trees to his right where he steered the horse and hid.

Within a few moments, he saw her again as he peaked between the trees. She was back at the main road, looking south, probably looking for him. Then, she steered the horse to the north and continued.

The Sheriff decided he would follow her, but he waited for a time before he guided his horse back to the road.

About twenty minutes later, she arrived to her destination. It was not to be missed — with its new landmark that stood out like a sore thumb. She guided the horse into the lane, then brought her to a halt. She dismounted, then secured the horse.

Lady Gunilda had already opened the front door, responding to the sound of horse's hooves coming down her lane. She stood outside in front of the door.

"My Goddess! Two Nottinghams in one day. What are the odds of that?" Lady Gunilda chuckled, as Rhiannon approached her.

"Oh. George was here?" Rhiannon asked, suspiciously. She looked down as she felt her cheeks flushing.

"It's fine, Lady Rhiannon. You mustn't fret. It was all business talk." Gunilda smiled.

"Oh. I see." Rhiannon sighed then looked up to face her. "Forgive me for my unexpected visit."

"It's quite alright, my dear. Do come inside before you catch your death of illness out here." she said. She turned, then opened the door, gesturing for her to enter.

The Sheriff was hidden by trees at the edge of the property near the road as he observed the two women speaking, then heading inside the cottage.

What is she doing here? I thought she needed sleep! And, why must she insist on taking off on that horse of hers every time she is angry? He thought. He sighed, shaking his head. He would wait there and catch up with her on the way back. He hoped her visit wouldn't be long.

"How are you feeling, Lady Rhiannon? I'm guessing you must be better since you made the journey here." Gunilda asked.

"I've been fine, Lady Gunilda." Rhiannon shrugged.

"I see. George said you were… out of sorts today."

"Did he?" Rhiannon sighed. "I suppose, I was." a beat. "So, he came here to talk about me? Or… something else?" Rhiannon asked, with her eyes narrowed, suspiciously.

"That was the only time he mentioned you. It was when I asked after you when he first arrived. He officially offered me the espial role. I guess the vetting process worked out. Then, he instructed me on my first assignment, and after that, he warned me about one of the staff rules. Then, he was off." Gunilda shrugged. She looked to Rhiannon, curiously.

"Seriously? That's it? He mentioned nothing personal?" Rhiannon asked.

"No, Milady. You know how guarded he is."

"Yes. You're right." Rhiannon sighed.

"Would you like a drink, my dear? Looks like you could use one."

"Yes. That would be nice, Lady Gunilda. Have you anything stronger than wine?"

"I have mead. It's my special blend. It has a little lemon, some honey added, and just a dash of ginger." Gunilda smiled.

"Perfect. It sounds lovely." Rhiannon smiled.

"Good! Take a seat. I'll be right back with that." Gunilda said, then turned to leave the room.

Some moments later, when they were seated, sipping the mead from their mugs, Gunilda couldn't help but notice how distracted Lady Rhiannon was. Plus, she was picking up on her emotions.

"I received your message, by the way. Thank you for arranging the consultation with your Seamstress, Milady." Gunilda smiled.

"Of course. I was glad to help." Rhiannon nodded.

"Are you sure you're alright, Lady Rhiannon? You're troubled." Gunilda said.

"You say that as if you're certain." Rhiannon shrugged.

"I am. I'm sensing some things. I'm picking up… fear, betrayal, anger, frustration. That's the thing about people like me. We know things." Gunilda said with a knowing quirk of her brow.

"Right. I'd forgotten that about you for a moment." Rhiannon sighed. "Yes. You're correct. I came here because I need the aid of a… witch. I didn't want to… consult Mortianna, because — "

"She works for him. Understood. Very well. What is it I can help you with, Lady Rhiannon?"

"I need to… remember something from a specific time. The memory I lost is relevant to my future. And… the future of a couple of others, too." she said, softly.

"Right. I can read emotions, but, I can't read minds. I'm going to need a little bit more to go on than that. That was a bit too vague, my dear." Gunilda said.

"Hmm. Alright. Here goes. A year ago, I was taken. He knocked me out, transported me a long way from here, and held me captive. It lasted several months… " Rhiannon began.

Gunilda raised her eyebrows, and widened her eyes in astonishment.

"Something happened during that time, and also the day I was found. That is what I desperately need to remember, Lady Gunilda." Rhiannon explained as simply as she could.

"Curses. Do you think… he violated you?"

"He did. Once. Sadly, I remember that." a beat. "No one knows of that besides George, and Mortianna, by the way. She only knows about it because she saw it in one of her visions." Rhiannon explained.

"Understood. And, it's not my story to tell." Gunilda nodded.

"Indeed. Back to that period of captivity, there was something else happening that I need to know for certain. How can I summon that memory, Lady Gunilda? I can pay you."

"No. Don't you even think about that, my dear. And, I'm sorry that happened to you. My Goddess!" Gunilda exclaimed, placing her right hand to her bosom.

"Thank you. So, what do I need to do?" Rhiannon asked, then took a generous swill of her mead.

"Any memory that is summoned may include many dark, unpleasant ones. You sure you want to go there?" Gunilda frowned.

"I need to know. Even if dark memories crop up."

"Alright. Well, there's no magic potion for that. There's a couple you can use to get rid of a memory, but nothing to elicit one. In situations like these, associations work best, but… " Gunilda said, letting the words trail off.

"What do you mean by associations?"

"Things like a place, or something pertaining to your captor, or anything really… from that time. Revisiting the place he held you prisoner is out. So, it would have to be something that reminds you of that time. Is there anything else you can think of, pertaining to the captor, I mean? Something that might be useful to spark a memory." Gunilda asked, then sipped the mead from her mug.

"Well, he sent two missives to George. It was George and his men who found me." Rhiannon said.

"Would George still have them?"

"I don't know." Rhiannon shrugged.

"You need to see those, Lady Rhiannon. Reading them, written in his words might help you get to the truth of what you are seeking." Gunilda advised.

"Oh, my. I never thought of that. I do hope he didn't burn them." Rhiannon sighed.

"Does he know you're wanting to recall something from that time?" Gunilda asked.

"Yes. He does." she nodded, then took another swill of the mead.

"Then, ask him about those missives he received. Tell him you need to see them. It might help you remember. And, once you do remember whatever it is you need to know, put that vile man who did this to you well into your past." Gunilda instructed.

"I couldn't agree more. I plan to." Rhiannon nodded. "You honestly think seeing those messages will help?"

"Yes. Because, when you read them, it will be like you're hearing him speaking again. Between that, and whatever the content is he wrote about, it's bound to spark something in you." Gunilda explained.

"I see. Very well. I'll mention this to George. Hopefully, he didn't destroy those missives." she said. She paused to take a sip of the mead, then continued. "Congratulations on your new role, by the way. What was that rule he told you about?" Rhiannon asked, curiously.

"I was basically warned that the Black Knights are off limits." Gunilda sighed.

"Excuse me?"

"I was informed of rule number one."

"And, what is that rule?" Rhiannon asked.

"That staff must not mix romantically."

"Strange he felt the need to tell you about that." Rhiannon shrugged, then sipped some more of the delicious mead. She was starting to feel an internal warmth from it, and much more relaxed.

"Apparently, everyone he employs are informed of rule number one." Gunilda sighed, shaking her head.

"Hmm. I guess that makes sense. I can see him doing that."

"He's so… serious now. Is he as boring as he comes across?" Gunilda asked.

"I wouldn't say so. At least… not with me. Except, for a couple of things, but I think he is just protective. For instance, he doesn't know I left the property to come visit you solo. He wouldn't like that, only because of the fugitive he's after who has a target on my back." Rhiannon explained.

"Yes, he did tell me about that. You're right. He's right to be protective of you, and no wonder! After what you've endured, my dear? He's probably determined to never let you out of his sight. Can't blame him after what happened to you." Gunilda frowned.

Rhiannon nodded. She never thought of it that way, but that explained why he imposed these restrictions on her. She never gave much thought to how it must've been for him during the time they were apart.

A short time later, after she finished her mead, she thanked Lady Gunilda for her advice, then took her leave.

The Sheriff stayed hidden within the trees, grateful that she was finally leaving after what seemed an interminable length of time to him. He watched as she guided her horse south on the main road, then waited for a time before he followed after her.

After two or three miles, he was caught up and he guided his horse beside hers, on her left.

"Fancy seeing you out here, my lady." he said with a sardonic smirk.

Rhiannon was startled by his voice, for her hood was pulled up, and the wind that had picked up drowned out the sound of his approaching horse. She looked to her left, her eyes widened in surprise.

"George! What are you doing here?" Rhiannon asked incredulously, while slowing her horse to a canter.

"I might ask you the same." he said, slowing his horse alongside hers.

"I needed to… see someone." she muttered, evasively.

"Right. I can think of someone else you need to see, too." the Sheriff sighed.

"I'm sure. You want me to step in as mother to your child." Rhiannon huffed.

"Follow me, wife." the Sheriff nodded as he led her off the road.

They headed west, into a wooded area about a half mile from the road.

They both dismounted, stretching their legs. The Sheriff walked toward her, then continued their conversation.

"Come on, Rhiannon. I don't care about other people's children. Why would I take on someone else's giant problem if I didn't have to?" he demanded, exhaling sharply.

"Because, clearly, he is your child. You kept him a secret and now you want me to step in to be his new mother. An instant little family." she countered.

"Rhiannon, first of all… no. And, I was true to you even with uncertainty we'd see each other again. There can only be one woman designated as his mother. That would be you." a beat. "Lady, I'm not interested in raising any child but ours." the Sheriff said, firmly.

"And, that's why I went to see Lady Gunilda." Rhiannon sighed.

"What? You told her about all of… this?" he demanded.

"I asked for her help to retrieve a memory. Told her I needed to recall something from a specific time. She needed a bit more information, so I briefly explained my captivity. I didn't mention… the boy."

The Sheriff sighed.

"You mean… our son." he frowned.

"Whatever. I didn't mention him." she said, shaking her head.

"And, how productive was that encounter? Since… you ignored my strong recommendation to stay put inside the walls surrounding the castle." he said, firmly.

"She told me an association would help."

"What?" he asked, incredulously.

"Those missives he sent you. Were they… destroyed?"

"No. I meant to burn them. The first was crumpled into a ball and tossed against the wall of my office. The Scribe must have found it, because next I returned there it was on my desk. I took that and the second one and tucked them away, planning to burn them, but they were forgotten about. Why?" he asked, his brow raised, suspiciously.

"I need to see them, George." Rhiannon said.

"Why would you wish to read those, Rhiannon?" the Sheriff asked, surprised by her request.

"Lady Gunilda thinks if I read them, it will help spark a memory. I'd be hearing his voice in my head as I read the words and it might take me where my mind needs to go to remember something about that child… if he is mine." she said, flatly.

"He is yours, my lady. He is our boy." the Sheriff sighed.

"Then, help me remember, George. If he is mine, I need to remember. I need to feel it. Right now, I'm not feeling it at all. I don't feel like his mother. I feel like I was chosen to step in, replacing his real mother." Rhiannon explained as she looked deeply into his amber hazel eyes, pleading for his understanding.

"What if, by reading those you remember sinister things that are best kept buried?" the Sheriff asked, placing his hands upon her shoulders.

"Lady Gunilda warned me of that, too. I'm willing to risk that if it will help me remember something about carrying a child — if I was at all."

"You did, Rhiannon. That boy you keep avoiding is our son." he said with a knowing quirk of his brow.

"Then, help me to remember. I'm… tired. Tired from the confusion, the shock, and… I don't want to be angry with you anymore." Rhiannon whispered.

He sighed and thought for a moment, as he gazed into her eyes. Those aqua green eyes that were pleading with him. He told himself it was a good sign she was willing to go the distance to remember anything about their son.

"Very well. Once we get back, I'll retrieve them, then you can read them in the private chambers. I will be there with you. Zeus knows what other things you might remember, and I don't want you to be alone if you do." he nodded.

She was pleased he was understanding, and didn't admonish her for ignoring his instructions to never leave the property unaccompanied. She felt tears welling in her eyes.

"Are those… tears? Or, are the glassy eyes a response to whatever you were imbibing at Lady Gunilda's?" a beat. "Wine, my dear?"

"It was mead." she muttered.

"Oh. Good thing I'm here to see you get home safely." he chuckled.

"They might be… glassy; but… those are… fucking tears." she exhaled sharply, then looked downcast.

"Do not worry, my angel. Everything will be alright." he said as he caressed her cheek.

"This is all so… overwhelming." she whispered. Then, a tear spilled down over her cheek.

The Sheriff wiped it away with his thumb, then he held her to him.

"Do not cry, Rhiannon. We will face all of this together." he soothed.

"George." she whispered and held onto him fast. She began to tremble.

"Breathe, my lady. Everything will be well." he whispered.

"How? I don't know how to be a mother, George." she argued as she pulled away to look into his eyes.

"Frankly, I don't know how to be a father, either, my lady. All I know is that I care for that boy, because he belongs to us both." the Sheriff said, softly.

"But… you are good with him. He recognizes you, and calls you by name — in his wee infant way." she smirked, knowingly.

"Rhiannon, if you think I just eased into this without a degree of shock, you're wrong. When I was told last May that you had borne a child, my first reaction was complete disbelief. Once Lady Margaret explained the reasoning of why she was a hundred percent certain of it, I understood, but I was still shocked." he said, firmly.

"Really?"

"Of course, my lady. Who would ever expect that? We spent one night of passion together before you were taken. But, then it became real for me when the ransom demand arrived."

"I see. So, did you ask for my hand because of the baby, then?" Rhiannon asked, pointedly. She pulled away and folded her arms.

"No. I asked you to marry me because I knew early on — once I realized you had been harmed — that I loved you." he sighed, then continued. "Rhiannon, if I felt nothing toward you, I would have given you and the child a monthly allowance for years to come. But, that never entered my mind, because… you taught me what love was about. Mostly, because we share too much commonality to ignore." he explained.

"I… love you, too, George." she said, softly. "So, now what?"

"Now, I take you home. I'll get those cursed missives, and you will read them in the private chambers with me at your side."

"George?"

"What is it, my free spirited wife?" he smirked.

"I don't know what I'm more fearful of? Reading those and remembering nothing except the things I don't want to know, or… remembering something that proves you're all totally right about that boy? How do I move from the life I knew before last night, to one that involves me being an instant mother?"

"Firstly, by being patient with yourself, my lady. I'm sure every couple has doubts when they learn a child is coming. We did with Sela." the Sheriff reminded her, his brow quirked, knowingly.

"Indeed. But, we had several months to get accustomed to the idea of it, or… so we thought." Rhiannon sighed.

"This is a unique situation, Rhiannon; but, it's doable. We are both skilled, astute people, and we have the means to hire helpers, and grant him everything he will need until he's old enough to leave us. We have all those things, and family who want to help. It's seriously going to be fine." the Sheriff sighed. He wondered if he could ever make her understand she won't be expected to have the boy attached to her hip every hour of every day?

"I guess… we shall see. Alright. I guess we better be off, then." Rhiannon shrugged. She turned and started to move toward her horse.

He started after her and grabbed her arm.

"George?"

He loosened his grasp, so he wasn't holding her as tightly. Then, he shook his head and frowned.

"I appreciate that you were seeking answers to help you accept your new role; but… damn it, wife! You must heed my warnings." the Sheriff said, sternly.

"I was just about to doff my cape. I'm wearing my leather under this." Rhiannon smirked pointing to her cape. "If that funny looking ginger bloke had been on my route, he would have assumed I was a man. You see? I thought of that, George."

"You must be accompanied when you choose to leave the property. Understood? The man is unhinged, and he's armed. And, he's after you! Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes." she nodded.

"An unconvincing response. I know what that means." he sighed. "I've said it before, and I'll say it again: your willfulness will get you killed! Promise me, Rhiannon." he said, firmly.

"Alright." Rhiannon nodded.

"Say it. Promise me. We need you." he said, softly.

She looked at him curiously, then sighed.

"Very well. I promise I'll have someone accompany me if there's going to be a next time." Rhiannon nodded.

"Good. Let's go, my lady." the Sheriff nodded, releasing her arm from his grasp.

They mounted their horses and headed back to the main road.

Half an hour later, they had entered the castle at the front entrance. They spotted Nichol as the Sheriff was escorting Rhiannon toward the stairs.

"You go on ahead, my lady. I need a quick word with Nichol, then I'll head to my office to retrieve those cursed missives." he said.

"Very well. I'll see you soon." she smiled.

He kissed her cheek softly, then Rhiannon went on her way.

He walked toward Nichol who turned to greet him, recognizing the pattern of his footsteps.

"How did it go in town, George?" Nichol asked as he moved in closer toward him.

"Good. We officially have our first espial sorted out." he nodded.

"Very good. Some other good news, as well. Sort of. Gerad and Ancel made it back. They're currently resting."

"I see. You didn't mention the fugitive, so I'm guessing they were unsuccessful with that." the Sheriff sighed.

"Indeed. Mostly, all I heard about from Gerad was how dark it was, and how Hood's old wind chimes spooked him." Nichol smirked.

"Seems on point… for Gerad. Did Ancel have anything to say?"

"He found a hip flask that he identified as belonging to the fugitive, as well as more wrappings from whatever wound the bloke is tending to, but… negative on any sightings of the fugitive." Nichol said.

"Hmm. I suppose all is not lost, then. The bloke won't get very far without water… unless, he has another flask. His apparent injury is favourable for us, too." the Sheriff said with a knowing quirk of his brow.

"True enough. Especially if he continues to hide out in Sherwood." Nichol agreed.

"Do they know they're needed before sundown, Nic?"

"Yes, but they don't know details. They'll need to be briefed."

"Good. You're joining us again, aren't you?" he asked.

"Of course, mate. I'm ready for it." Nichol nodded.

"Good. How did the training session go?"

"Very good. Everyone performed well. Most of them fired off two bolts in a minute. Nigel and Luke managed three. Safforus exceeded everyone, though. First attempt, he fired four bolts a minute, all landing in centre mass. The last one hit dead centre. He picked it up as if he never put the weapon down in three years." Nichol smiled.

"Impressive." the Sheriff agreed.

"Yes, even he was surprised."

"Very good. I need to take care of something, Nic. I'll see you before we head out. We're convening in the Council Quarters before we leave. That's when we'll brief Ancel and Gerad, as well as Richard and Nigel, then review our strategy." the Sheriff said.

"Very well. I'll see you then." Nichol nodded.

The Sheriff nodded, then went on his way, heading to his office.

Castor was standing guard at the door of the dungeon. His head was starting to ache from the perpetual cacophony from beyond the door. He removed his helm and shook out his black wavy hair.

"Oh, hell, no. It's worse!" Castor spat, then put his palm to his forehead.

"What's worse, Castor?" Alfred asked.

"I took the helm off because my head is aching. Now, it's worse from the noise! How the hell do ye stand this, Alfred? Day after day. More to the point — how the fuck does Joseph, Aldred, and the rest of the men in there stand it — where it's even noisier than here?" Castor asked, genuinely curious.

"Not sure. I guess you just get accustomed to it, mate." Alfred shrugged. "How was your training session? You never did mention it."

"It was good. Everyone did well with it. But, one of the new guys on City Watch, Safforus, he worked that thing like a bleeding professional, mate. It was deadly!"

"Really? As good as Nichol, do you think?" Alfred asked, curiously.

"Definitely. Nic was impressed, too. And, you'll get your turn on the morrow. That was good that Sir Guy approved your request to participate. I was… kind of surprised ye asked him about it." Castor said.

"I suppose no one would expect that from me. I tend to stay… in the background. But, I have experience with crossbows." Alfred shrugged.

"You do? Since when? I've never seen ye actually use any weapon." Castor pointed out.

"True. Because my job is always to man doors. I've never used one on duty. My cousin taught me to use one. We get together frequently and use them for target practice. I've never actually aimed it at a person, though."

"It will be curious to see how ye fare with it at the training session, then."

"Indeed. That City Watch Guy you mentioned who excelled with it… maybe that bloke is too good for City Watch? Sounds like we could use him around here."

"Aye. I can definitely see that happening in the near future. The other guy on City Watch is good, too. I can see why the Sheriff chose them for the job." Castor said.

"Good to hear. Speaking of chosen for the job, how'd you end up down here, Castor? Does… it have something to do with the state of your face? That left eye looks awful, mate." Alfred frowned.

"Possibly. I was just told to come and join Albert for the next two days." Castor shrugged. "When ye going to set him straight on your name, mate? Err… haven't ye been here a couple of years now?"

"Aye. I have. I just follow orders and collect my wages. I've stopped thinking about it."

"Maybe ye oughta try a nickname? Like, "Al", or "Alfie"?" Castor suggested.

"He'd probably still get it wrong, frankly." Alfred sighed.

"Well, that's something that only ye can fix, as far as I can tell, mate. Ye got to do something to get his attention. Something that will impress him, I suppose. Then, he'd remember your name."

"What did you do to get him to take notice of you?" Alfred asked, curiously.

"Nothing, come to think of it. It's probably because I possess a queer name." Castor shrugged.

The Sheriff spent a few minutes looking, uncertain of where exactly he put them. He had been searching shelves in his office. He finally found the missives inside a drawer in his desk. He sighed and took them from the drawer.

He was still a bit surprised Rhiannon wanted to read them. He hoped that only the right memories would come through for her. Except, he hated that her entire confinement and birth of their son would always be associated with the most miserable time of her life.

Fifteen minutes later, he was in the den of the private chambers. He directed her to sit in one of the chairs. She nodded and took a seat.

"You sure this is what you want, my lady?" the Sheriff asked.

"It's what I need to do, George." she nodded.

"Very well." he said. He reached into the pocket of his black suede doublet and extracted two documents that were rolled together. He separated them and passed her one that had been obviously crumpled. "This is the first one. The messenger he sent to deliver it said the man had an infant with him. Described the child as having dark hair, and green eyes. Anyway, see if you can make sense of most of the flowery nonsense before he gets to the cursed point." he sighed, then passed it to her.

She looked at him curiously, as she took it from him. She looked down to the parchment and began to read:

"My Good Sheriff of Nottingham.

Debauched, and sought by maids.

You never deny yourself pleasure.

I have the child of your whore.

You think you can play me?

You'll have to compensate me first.

My Good Sheriff…

And by and by, anon

Thine eyes shall see their fill of thine own face in the eyes of your cursed infant,

whence you meet the demands as follows:

Meet me on the hill by the castle where your maid was held prisoner.

Do this or it's off. Your bastard will die.

Come then, in a fortnight hence.

As the moon rises.

Bring me one thousand gold pieces.

Come alone.

These demands are non negotiable.

Do this or your failure to respect my requests will result in both of their deaths.

Your bastard and your whore.

Trust we understand each other.

The Fallen Knight."

Rhiannon stared at the page and shuddered. Lady Gunilda was right. She did hear it in his voice. There it was. He mentioned the baby right here in this missive. A ransom demand and a threat to their lives, yet…

"My lady? Are you alright? You're trembling." the Sheriff said, softly.

"She was right. I did hear it in his voice. I read it all. The ransom demand, the damned threats, yet… " Rhiannon began, letting her words trail off as she looked across the room, trying to recall a memory. Something.

"Did anything happen? A memory of some sort?" the Sheriff asked.

"No. Nothing yet. Just his cursed voice in my head." Rhiannon huffed.

"Alright. Perhaps this one might trigger something, Rhiannon. Here's the second one. This one was waiting for me on the cursed hill I was supposed to meet him on." he sighed, shaking his head as he passed the second missive to her.

She took it from him, placing it over the first one in her lap.

"Why did he call himself the Fallen Knight? Was he a Black Knight at one time, George? One of yours?" Rhiannon asked.

"No. He was never a Black Knight, nor a Knight of any sort. He was one in Locksley's rabble. That moniker was just part of his illusory superiority, my lady. It was only a delusion." the Sheriff said with a knowing quirk of his brow.

"I see. That definitely seems on point. He was certainly mad." Rhiannon nodded. She took a deep breath then looked down to read the second missive in her hand:

"My Good Sheriff of Nottingham;

If Indeed your eyes are cast upon this scroll, I admit, I'm impressed.

I never thought you'd part with your money to spare a child.

It makes my plans for you all the sweeter…

Because, my Good Sheriff,

now… perhaps you understand my position.

You think you can pay me off?

Your gold can not buy back my brother's life, my face, or give my lover back to me. So…

I no longer have your bastard child.

The child was given to a home in a village nearby.

Love is gone. Passed away….

Or, is it?

You have two loves now. Before, you had none. Both are in opposing directions. A distance of some two hundred miles.

Will you look for your child?

Or, shall you return to Nottingham.

For your lady?

Oh… I forgot. She's safe there at Nottingham Castle, no less.

Surrounded by your guards. Isn't she, Sheriff?

Just as your two consorts, the Mistresses, Catherine and Hecate, were safe. Tucked into their cozy little beds with your guards stationed nearby.

You do remember them, don't you?

Yes, dear Sheriff -- safe and sound.

Your child, or your lady?

Don't think on it long.

I can play this as long as needed, and I shall.

I hope you can begin to endure the game.

-- The Fallen Knight."

"Catherine and Hecate. You asked about them on the first day you lost your memory. You thought I might be a friend of theirs. Sir Guy told you they were dead, and you didn't believe it. He… killed them, didn't he? That's why he was taunting you about them being safe and sound, with guards nearby. As I was. Another fucking threat!" Rhiannon spat.

"Yes, my lady. We believe Catherine and Hecate were his first victims." he sighed. "This was a bad idea, Rhiannon. I knew it! All it's doing is drudging up cursed memories… of him." he huffed. He reached out to take the missives.

"No, George. Can I keep them for a bit? Nothing is hitting yet, but, perhaps if I read them again later something will come?" Rhiannon suggested.

"You sure, Rhiannon? I need to meet with the men in a couple of hours, and then we're heading out. I don't want you in a state of distress if you recall something particularly bleak while I'm not here with you." the Sheriff said with a knowing quirk of his brow.

"Yes. It will be fine, George. I've weathered that cursed storm, anyway. All I need to remember is carrying that boy. That bastard can't hurt me anymore. You took care of him." she nodded.

"You're incredibly brave, my angel. Fierce as hell. Very well. I'll leave them with you. And, when you finally remember something of our son, we're burning those." he said, firmly, nodding to the missives.

"You'll get no argument from me, George." she said.

"I'm proud of you. You were willing to read them and go back to an unpleasant time to remember something of our boy." he smiled as he put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"It needs to be done, my love. If that boy is mine, I need to know it. I'm going to look these over again when you're out. If I really concentrate, something might come to me." she said. She set the papers aside on a table beside her, then stood.

"And, when you do this later, if something comes to you… then what, my lady?" the Sheriff asked.

"Then, I shall wait for you to return home safely to me, and you'll be the first to know it." Rhiannon smiled.

"There's my angel. Finally. A genuine smile."

"I can never stay cross with you for too long." she whispered. Then, she embraced him, holding him fast.

"Even though I still don't remember what I need to, seeing that all laid out in writing… it helps me understand a bit how difficult it must have been for you." Rhiannon whispered.

"Yes, my angel. It was unsettling, to say the least. At one time, I questioned whether I would have you both here with me, safe in this castle. But, the worst is over now." the Sheriff said softly, as he held her close.

Rhiannon pulled away from him to look up into his eyes.

"I will do what it takes to remember our boy, George."

"I know, my angel. You just proved that to me." he smiled.

"Damn that bastard for what he did to our… family. I hope he's rotting in hell."

"I will never let anyone harm you, or our son ever again." he said as he caressed her cheek.

"My love, you never let it happen in the first place." she pointed out.

"I fell asleep. I didn't notice you leave the bed, or these chambers. By the time I was alerted to that, it was too late." he sighed, then looked downcast.

"No. It doesn't matter. You found me, George. Then, your men found the boy. You did your best, and did everything right once you knew… I was taken." a beat. "I'm sorry for the hell you went through, too." she smiled and kissed his cheek.

"A man will do anything for the woman he loves, my angel." the Sheriff said, then kissed her softly.

Luke was getting close to finishing guard duty with Borin in the armoury. He couldn't deny that the Sheriff had been right. He watched the smiths working together; even the blind blacksmith, Stephanus, was kept busy. They seemed to be working on shields, and one was following instructions written on parchment while working on chain mail armour, which appeared to Luke to be quite a delicate and tedious undertaking.

"So, what do you think so far, Luke?" Borin asked.

"Well, it's a shame there's no windows because it's bleeding hot as hell in here. But, it seems okay. Don't know if I'd want to do this long term, though. It's… kind of stuffy in here, don't you think?"

"Aye. It can be, but I suppose one just gets used to it." Borin shrugged. "How come you got stuck down here, anyway? You're one of the top men, are you not?"

"Yes. Just not… today, or the morrow." Luke sighed.

"Uh… does this assignment change have anything to do with… the state of your face? The hell happened there, Luke? Looks like you walked into an oak door… or, something."

"A little incident that happened yesterday. It's fine, Borin. Milord just… wanted me to try a new assignment for a couple of days." Luke lied with a shrug.

"Ha! Right." Borin scoffed.

At this point, Robert came over to speak with them.

"Well? How do you like it down here, Luke?" Robert asked.

"You need to speak to Milord Sheriff about getting a few windows down here, Robert. If… that's even possible? It's hotter than hell down here, and… I'm not being funny about it." Luke said.

"Yes. It can be." Robert chuckled. "That's the nature of the work. Can't shape steel without fire. Don't think windows are an option at this stage. This castle is solid rock. Even if contractors could do it without toppling the whole structure, that would take years, likely."

"We get around that by keeping the door open." Borin added.

"Hmm. Yes, you raise a good point. I guess I never thought of it that way, since I know nothing about building things." Luke shrugged.

"But, you do know how to fight. And, here is where we forge weapons and armour. As you may have noticed, it takes time, skill, teamwork… and a lot of heat." Robert said.

"Yes. I've noticed." Luke nodded.

"Now, you're nearly finished your duties for today. But, tomorrow … would you like to watch us more closely? A few of us could show you how we go from a boring slab of steel to something spectacular." Robert suggested.

"Do you think Milord Sheriff would object to that?" Luke asked.

"No. I think he'd be fine with it. You were sent for a particular reason. Some close observation of the work we do around here, and how we achieve it may be of interest." Robert said with a knowing glance.

"Right. Then, I think that would be just fine." Luke nodded.

"Good. I look forward to showing you a few things. It will be sometime following the Town Council meeting. That's shaping up to be a fascinating one since one of the members of Council is related to one of the new prisoners." Robert scoffed. Then, he looked to Borin. "There's a couple of things a few of the smiths are continuing with, so we'll need you to stay until they finish up. No more than an hour more than the usual timing."

"That's fine, Robert." Borin nodded.

"Perfect." he said. Next, he looked to Luke. "Your time is up, Luke. You're free now until the morning." Robert smiled.

"Very well. Thank you, Robert." Luke said.

Isabelle had just come to the Nottinghams' private chambers to check on her sister in law, and to thank her again for the riding lesson. They had only just seated themselves when there was a knock on the door.

"Maybe that's Meridwyn, Isabelle. She'll be wanting company since Sir Guy is out with George." Rhiannon said as she stood from her chair.

"Right. Do let her in, Sister." Isabelle nodded.

Rhiannon was surprised when she opened the door and saw who greeted her.

"Oh! Sir Guy. Aren't you supposed to be with George just now? He left a short while ago."

"Yes, I'm on my way to meet he and the men, but, I wanted a word. I'm sure my wife shall be here soon, so, I need to make this brief." Guy hinted.

"Right. Come right in, Sir Guy." Rhiannon nodded. She closed the door after him and wondered what he needed to discuss without Meridwyn present?

"Ah. Good!" Guy said when he noticed Isabelle seated on her chair. "That's good. I need a word with both of you ladies."

"Sir Guy? Is something wrong… with Meridwyn?" Rhiannon asked, nervously.

"That's what I'd like to know." Isabelle said as her eyebrow quirked.

"No. Everything is fine. It's nothing like that. I need both of you to help me plan… December thirteenth."

"Pardon?" Isabelle asked.

"Oh, right! Her birthday is near then. Isn't it the fifteenth?" Rhiannon asked.

"It's the fourteenth. It's a Sunday this year, so I'm planning a small celebration for her the night before. You will be there, of course, with your husbands. You're her dearest friends." Guy said.

"Of course, Sir Guy. We'll be pleased to attend." Rhiannon smiled.

"Indeed. We will." Isabelle said, merrily.

"I'm going to need your help giving it that… lady's touch, or whatever. Would you two be willing to help a bit with the planning? I've a few things sorted."

"Great. Like what?" Rhiannon asked.

"I already mentioned this to George yesterday. He granted approval for use of the Dining Hall. He suggested I meet with the chef. I will speak to the Medley Brothers, too. There shall only be a little music, maybe dancing. It's a small gathering, so there won't be additional entertainment. She would loathe that, anyway." Guy explained.

"Yes. She would." Rhiannon agreed.

"She should have all of her favourite foods." Isabelle suggested.

"We'll need a few floral arrangements. She'll need a new gown. And, I'm going to ask Luke to sing for us." Rhiannon smiled.

"What's that, Sister? Did you say Luke can sing?" Isabelle asked, curiously.

"Yes. George suggested that, too. He told me about the time you found Luke to be singing a song he wrote." Guy nodded.

"He was sublime. Meridwyn will like that." Rhiannon smiled.

"Good. So, can you ladies assist to make this party perfect for her?" he asked.

"Absolutely." Rhiannon nodded.

"Indeed." Isabelle agreed.

"Good. Perhaps having this event to plan can serve as a pleasant distraction for you both." Guy said with a knowing quirk of his brow.

"I'm sure, Sir Guy." Rhiannon nodded.

"I must go. She's liable to arrive soon, and I'm due in the Council Quarters." Guy said. He nodded to each of them and took his leave.

A short time later, Luke arrived to Floria's quarters. She opened the door, smiling at him.

"Are you ready, Floria?" he asked.

"Yes, I think so. What am I learning about first?"

"I'm going to teach you how to use my longbow, my dear. I think we should start with that, plus a few simple self defence pointers." he smiled.

"Oh. Alright. I'll just grab my cape, Luke. Then we can be off." Floria nodded.

She reached beside her to take her cape from the hook that was hanging beside the door. Then, she put it on and stepped out to close and lock her door.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked as they walked together toward the stairs.

"There's an area in back of the stables. There's already a target fastened to a tree out there because it's being used for training with new weapons." he said.

"Oh, I see. Sounds kind of exciting."

"I suppose. But, I need your concentration, Floria. This isn't amusement. This is serious stuff, and I need you to pay attention. What I will be showing you might save your life someday."

"Of course, Luke. You already have my attention." she smiled at him as she held his arm.

Ancel stood outside the door in the corridor, looking around him to make sure he wasn't seen. He took in a breath, then he knocked.

A few moments later, it opened. Rebeccah seemed a bit surprised to see him.

"Ancel! I thought maybe you'd been away on some mission. I haven't seen you for days. Come in." she said.

He stepped inside, then she closed the door.

"Have you dined?" she asked.

"No. It's s bit early for that. I only arrived back hours ago, and my comrade and I ate some victuals before we retired to our rooms. We needed to rest up. I'm needed soon, but I wanted to see you." he said.

"Oh?"

"Indeed. Forgive me. I haven't had a chance to come by since I saw you last, my dear." Ancel said as he took her hand and softly kissed it.

"It's quite alright. I know you're one of his top men. Of course, you've been busy."

"I was in Sherwood all last night with my comrade. We were looking for any sign of… him. The fugitive. My former… friend. It was dark, and cold, and… I thought about you." Ancel said softly, looking downcast.

"You've been in my thoughts, too, Ancel." she said. She focused her brown eyes upon him, curiously. Her long lashes fluttered, seducing him with her beauty.

"Would you… dine with me when I return, Rebeccah? Unless… you're starving now, of course."

"That sounds fine. I shall wait for you, Ancel. How long will you be?"

"I'm not quite sure. Probably a few hours past sundown. From what I've been told, this won't take very long. But, if it does, you eat without me, and I'll see you before I retire. Is that agreeable?"

"I'll wait for you." Rebeccah said, softly.

Ancel smiled then pulled her into an embrace. Rebeccah took in his scent as she rested her head against his chest.

"It was not my intention to stay away, my dear. Just so you're aware. I'll tell you a bit more about that later." Ancel said, softly.

"I understand." she said.

Ancel leaned down and kissed her softly. She melted into his touch, realizing that as hard as she tried, she didn't really wish to resist him.

He promised he would return to her as soon as possible, then he took his leave of her.

The Sheriff was meeting with Guy, Robert, and Nichol in the Council Quarters as they waited for the rest of the men to arrive.

"No sign of the Captain and his men when you were coming here, Gis?" he asked.

"No. I didn't look outside, however. I came directly here." Guy said.

"Directly? That's funny. Took you long enough."

"I met with both of your wives briefly before I came down." Guy said, addressing them both.

"Really?" the Sheriff asked.

"Indeed." Robert nodded. "What was that about?"

Nichol looked to Guy curiously, as he sat in a chair, resting his hands on his walking stick.

"I asked for their help planning Meridwyn's birthday celebration. Thought it might be a nice distraction for them both, besides needing their assistance getting the feminine touches right." Guy explained with a shrug.

"Good idea, Gis. You're right. Rhiannon needs something to look forward to." the Sheriff nodded.

"I can see my wife being interested in that, too. When is this event set to take place?" Robert asked.

"Saturday, December thirteenth. It shall be hosted in the Dining Hall. The ladies were already brimming with ideas." Guy smirked.

"Oh, I can imagine." the Sheriff chuckled.

"Like what, for instance?" Robert asked.

"Lady Isabelle said I should have all of Meridwyn's favourite foods served. Lady Rhiannon suggested flowers, a new gown for Meridwyn, and one other thing." Guy hinted.

"What was that?" the Sheriff asked, curiously.

Nichol took a generous swill of water from his goblet as he observed their conversation.

"She's going to ask Luke to sing a song or two." Guy smiled.

Nichol began to cough as some of the water went down the wrong way. He put his hand to his mouth, trying to regain composure.

"Nic?" the Sheriff asked.

"Did you say… Luke? Our Luke?" Nichol asked, incredulously. He put his forearm to his mouth as he resumed coughing.

"I did." Guy nodded.

"What? Seriously?" Nichol asked again.

"I already told you this, Nic. Just before we knocked on the office door at the Inn on Friday." the Sheriff reminded him as his eyebrow shot north, curiously.

"I seriously thought you were jesting, mate."

"You mentioned that then, and I told you I was as serious as scrofula. And, you still thought it was a joke? Do I look like a jester to you, Nic?" Nottingham sighed.

Nichol shook his head.

"Are you distracted, Nic? Does any of this have to do with your new… paramour, or…whatever it is you're calling her?" the Sheriff asked, pointedly.

"After the things she did to me, and let me do to her, she is… my lady." Nichol said with a devious grin.

"Good for you. Don't let it take up your entire head, however." the Sheriff said.

"Of course. So, Luke really can sing, huh?"

"Indeed. He sings very well, writes his own songs, and it turns out he can play a few instruments." the Sheriff said.

"You can't be serious?" Nichol asked, shaking his head in disbelief. He took a small sip of water to soothe his throat.

"He came from nobility, Nic. I'm guessing he was educated in the musical arts." Nottingham shrugged.

"I haven't heard him, myself. But, George told me about it, and how good he was. I'm most interested to hear him." Guy said.

"I'm interested, too." Robert smiled.

"Hmm. Nobility, huh? Guess that explains a few things." Nichol said.

"Like what, Nic?" the Sheriff asked, curiously.

"He's quite well spoken, and a quick study. He did very well with his crossbow training today."

"He was good in the armoury, too." Robert nodded.

"Oh, good. So, no problems, then, Robert?" Nottingham asked.

"No. None. His only complaint was that I need to speak to you about somehow getting windows. I told him that would very likely be unfeasible at this stage."

"Ha! No kidding!" Guy chuckled.

"Right. So, I guess he was educated on many subjects, except… anything having to do with building and construction." the Sheriff scoffed.

"So, it would seem, mate." Nichol chuckled.

"You're invited, too, Nic." Guy said.

"Oh. Really? I'm not that well acquainted with your wife, though."

"You will be. We've that dining engagement with the Prince later in the week. If things are still going well with Lady Kaeliss, you can bring her as your guest. Then, you can hear Luke serenade us, as long as Lady Rhiannon successfully convinces him." Guy suggested.

"Thank you, Gis. I appreciate that. Yes. So far things are moving along quite nicely with Kaeliss." Nichol smirked. Then, he looked to his mate. "Now, what did you mean about your wife needing something to look forward to? Is everything well with Lady Rhiannon?" he asked.

Nichol couldn't shake the conversation he overheard in the stables the night before between George and Lady Rhiannon. Something was definitely going on. Whom were they going to see? What had happened to her that George had likened to nightmares?

Robert sighed and looked downcast.

Guy looked to the floor.

"It's fine, Nic. She's… well. There is something to say about that, but… we're not quite ready for that. All in due time, mate." Nottingham said.

"Alright. Very well." Nichol nodded.

"It's good to hear things are going well with your lady, too, Nic. I noticed you dropped the formality a moment ago and just referred to her by name. So… I take it that's a good sign?" Guy asked.

"Oh. Indeed, Gis. Things are moving along quite… sweetly." Nichol grinned.

"He, uh… made that clear a moment ago." Robert said.

"Oh. Right!" Guy chuckled.

"Indeed, Gis. He finally got a good solid fuck." Nottingham smirked, then began to chortle.

"Well, that's a good start!" Robert smiled.

"Indeed." Nichol nodded, with a satisfied grin.

"George, if we could swing back to the topic of Luke, I need to run something by you. A suggestion I made to him just before he completed his duty today." Robert said.

"Very well. And, what was that Robert?" the Sheriff asked.

"I suggested to Luke that he should observe us working tomorrow, more closely than he did today. I was thinking I'd bring him in to us, away from the door with Borin — just for awhile, so he can see for himself how the teamwork down there creates magick… so to speak." Robert explained.

"A sound idea to me, Robert. It probably would be useful to him. Don't be mollycoddling him, though. No more than two hours of his entire day shall be spent closely observing you." the Sheriff instructed.

"Very well. Noted." Robert nodded.

At this juncture, the sentry announced the arrival of some of the men. The Sheriff nodded for him to show them inside. Within moments Ancel, Gerad, Alex, Richard, and Nigel were entering the room. They took their seats at the table.

"Good. I've some time to brief you before the Captain and the Sherwood team arrive. Just the men I need to see." the Sheriff said.

"Shouldn't they be here by now?" Richard asked.

"I'm sure they'll be arriving soon. They are all fully aware of our next task. Four of you need to be brought up to speed, except, Gerad and Ancel will at least know more of who I'm talking about." he began, then he looked to Richard and Nigel. "Pay attention. I've only got time to say this once."

Nigel folded his arms and gave a straight faced nod.

"Of course, Milord." Richard said.

"I will make this as brief as possible. There's a rebellion calling themselves the… what the hell are they called? I've just been calling them the Jesus blokes, or Jesus cult." Nottingham muttered."

"The Christian Brotherhood, Milord. Headed up by Father Tuttle." Robert said.

"Right. Indeed, Robert." he nodded, then he looked back to Richard and Nigel. "These Jesus blokes have been brainwashed by Father Titlittle — " he started to say, but was cut off.

"We're going after a bunch of church people, Milord? Is this why we need blokes on this new venture known as City Watch?" Nigel asked.

"City Watch is another topic we'll get to another time, Nigel. Suffice to say, we need their help, and the two we have are suited to the role. It is also supported by Prince John, and the King. Now, as to the matter at hand… no. This is beyond a Priest and his flock of parishioners. This is a supposed Priest I like to call Father Titlittle, whose brainwashed a number of men in town to take a stand against us. All of us, really. They're organized; apparently, well funded; and they're armed." Nottingham said with a knowing quirk of his brow.

"I see. So, we're going to hunt them down tonight?" Nigel asked.

"In a word, yes. There will likely only be a few, though. We don't expect more than six to show."

"So, this is where the church comes in." Richard guessed.

"Yes." he nodded. He continued, addressing both of the men. "Yesterday, a search was done of the church, the Priest's home, and groundskeeper's quarters. Everything I was looking for was found in the church, and something unexpected was discovered directly behind the church, in a shed. It was, basically — a shed load of weapons. Those weapons were confiscated by us. Three of their cult followers showed last night to take the weapons. We were in position, and we took care of them. Two of those fools are in the dungeon. The other is currently suffering from a case of death. That makes a total of seven we have in the dungeon, including the Priest, from an incident on Tuesday. We expect more of them to show tonight to retrieve the weapons. We're particularly interested in the last of Father Titlittle's henchmen, a bloke by the name of Gunter Thorne." the Sheriff summarized for them.

"They sound like they're bleeding cracked. We'll get them for you, Milord." Nigel nodded.

"Indeed, Milord. Understood." Richard agreed.

"Good." he said. Next, he looked to Ancel. "And, some news for you, Ancel. Your employment is now official. A glowing letter of recommendation arrived yesterday from Hugo de Bosco, the Sheriff of Hampshire. Your former employer. Seems each of the four Sheriffs you worked for were pleased with your work. Well done." the Sheriff smiled.

"Thank you, Milord." Ancel nodded.

"Congrats, Ancel. Not surprising, though." Alex grinned.

"Indeed. Well done, mate." Gerad smiled.

Ancel nodded to both of them.

"And, I'd like to add that's it good to see you two back with us." Gerad said to Richard and Nigel.

"It's damn good to be back. Cheers, mate." Nigel nodded.

"Yes. We're glad to be here." Richard agreed.

"Milord? What do we know of this Gunter Thorne bloke, besides him being one of the Priest's henchmen? Do we have a description?" Ancel asked.

"No. So far, just a name." he said.

Moments later, the Captain and his team joined them in the meeting chamber. They greeted Richard and Nigel, welcoming them back. Then, the meeting was reconvened, and they began to discuss their strategy for the task just ahead of them.

Meridwyn had recently joined her friends in the Nottinghams' private chambers. She and Isabelle were pleased to see that Rhiannon seemed a bit more at ease for the time being.

"Look, ladies… I'm sorry I've been a bit testy." Rhiannon said.

"It's fine, Rhi. Understood." Meridwyn nodded.

"It's alright, Rhiannon. It's a lot to think about just now." Isabelle said.

"And, maybe it will be easier when a memory comes." Rhiannon said.

"You said "when", not "if". Is that… hopefulness I'm detecting?" Meridwyn asked.

"Perhaps. I'm doing everything I can to try to recall the important part of it. Remember George told us of the missives he'd received from… him?"

"Yes?" Meridwyn shrugged.

"Yes, Sister. He did tell us about that." Isabelle nodded.

"He still had them. I asked to read them." Rhiannon said, simply.

"What?" Meridwyn asked, incredulously.

"Oh, Rhiannon! Why would you want to? I can't imagine that would do you any good." Isabelle said, shaking her head.

"No. I think I'm getting close. I read them first with George present. I still have them." Rhiannon said. She turned to Meridwyn. "You know, he mentioned you in the second missive, Meridwyn."

"You can't be serious?" Meridwyn asked in disbelief.

"It was a brief mention, but it revealed plenty. Don't think he ever got over you."

"It just mystifies me how Will turned into… that. I never would have believed this about him in a million years." Meridwyn frowned.

"You knew him?" Isabelle asked, incredulously.

"Yes. Long before he turned into a monster, I can assure you. He could be a bit sullen, and prickly at times, but he certainly wasn't murderous." Meridwyn said.

"Oh, my!" Isabelle exclaimed.

"Maybe if… you two read them you might… glean something I didn't " Rhiannon hinted.

"Really?" Meridwyn asked.

"Yes. Why not? These were sent several months ago. The bastard is dead. He can't hurt anyone anymore." Rhiannon reminded them.

"Well, if you think it might help, I'll take a look." Meridwyn nodded.

"Very well, Sister." Isabelle agreed.

Rhiannon walked to a table that was between two chairs near the fireplace. She grabbed the documents from the table. She passed the first one to them.

"This is the first message George received." she said.

Rhiannon watched as the ladies read it together. Their eyes began to gradually widen, and then all manner of expressions of shock and disbelief crossed both of their faces as they read further.

Then, they both looked up at her, speechless for a few moments.

"Well?" Rhiannon asked.

"Unbelievable. What the hell happened to him to make him… like this?" Meridwyn asked, nodding to the parchment.

"It's disturbing… to say the least." Isabelle sighed.

"Agreed. Right. Here's the second one. It's even more troubling than the first, and explains a bit more." Rhiannon said as she passed them the next missive.

Isabelle held it, and the two began to read.

After a few moments, Isabelle commented on a line she just read.

"There it is, Meridwyn. This must be you he's talking about: "Your gold can not buy back my brother's life, my face, or give my lover back to me." That's you, right? But… who was his brother? And, what did he mean about his face?" Isabelle asked.

"Yes. That's me he refers to. I was… with him long before Guy. His brother, it turns out, was Robin of Locksley." Meridwyn said.

"What? Robin Hood, you mean?" Isabelle asked, astonished.

"Yes." Meridwyn nodded.

"As for his face, it was burned on the day of the final siege, the incursion here at this castle. The day that Hood was killed, and the same day that Nichol was nearly mortally injured." Rhiannon explained.

Meridwyn scanned the rest of the page, and began to shake her head.

"Both of these, filled with threats. He taunts George, brazenly through both of these letters!" Meridwyn exclaimed.

"His head must have been spinning with the mention of the threats to you, Rhiannon, and your baby… kept some two hundred miles apart. The man makes it clear — which one was Milord going to go after and save? My goodness!" Isabelle sighed.

"Indeed. Once I read those I fully understood the worry he must have experienced. But, that's what fuelled him to come up with a plan." Rhiannon said.

"And, what about you, Rhi? Did anything come to you when you looked at these?" Meridwyn asked, nodding to the missives.

"Not yet, but I'm going to look at them again when I'm alone. All I got out of those were his voice in my head, and remembering the feeling of fear about a few things. No memory of that boy yet." she said.

"Except for the part where he mentioned what he did with your son, he was just playing George like a damn harp, Rhi. He had no intention of giving the child to him in exchange for the gold. Looks to me like his goal was to lure George well away from you since you were here recovering, and then make his way back here while George was up north thinking he was going to meet with him." Meridwyn said, shaking her head.

"Exactly. Both of our men were away on that mission. And, we were both here. I think he was aiming to come and nab us both, like he obviously did with Catherine and Hecate. Otherwise, why would he mention you in the second one?" Rhiannon pointed out.

"Thank God that's all behind us." Meridwyn sighed.

"Indeed." Isabelle nodded.

"I'm just grateful that boy is thriving, even though I don't remember carrying him, or birthing him. It's a bleeding miracle he left that boy with the right people." Rhiannon huffed.

"That part was kind of like… a divine intervention of sorts. Even though… it didn't feel like it once the Captain and Officer Mordrid started going door to door, questioning people about a baby who'd been kidnapped. It was then we were told the baby belonged to your husband, Rhiannon. We knew nothing of the child's mother." Isabelle explained.

"That's all behind us, Sister. I'm thankful the bastard took the boy to you and Robert. At least that part gives me some semblance of peace." Rhiannon said.

The men were wrapping up their meeting in the Council Quarters. They had effectively discussed their strategy for the task just ahead of them.

"Very good. Is everyone clear?" the Sheriff asked.

Everyone nodded in agreement.

"Mordrid, did you bring your spyglass with you?" the Sheriff asked.

"Yes, Milord." Mordrid nodded. He extracted it from a pocket in his surcoat and held it up to show him.

"Perfect." he said.

"What about tomorrow's assignments?" Duke Farnsworth asked. "Any changes to that?"

"Yes." the Sheriff nodded. "Ancel and Mordrid are going to join us for the Town Council meeting. Gerad will be staying back, too, since Gerad and Ancel spent a whole day and night in that cursed forest."

"The Town Council meeting? Don't think I've ever been to one of those." Mordrid shrugged.

"I know I haven't." Ancel said.

"It'll be fine, men." he nodded.

"And, what about the search team?" Guy asked.

"Nic, were you planning another training session on the morrow?" the Sheriff asked.

"I'm ready for it, Milord. I figured it would depend on assignments." Nichol nodded.

"Good. You shall have Mordrid, Ancel, Gerad, and Emory, and… " the Sheriff looked to his Captain. How many do you need on the search team?"

"We managed just fine with three today, Milord." Duke Farnsworth nodded.

"Right. Tomorrow you shall have Alex, Richard, and Nigel with you. Drake and Adam, you two will also take part in crossbow training." he instructed them.

"Very well, Milord." Drake nodded.

Drake was grateful for the change in assignment for the morrow. He would be afforded more time to sleep since the training session would not likely be until midday, as opposed to leaving at dawn for the search mission. It hadn't been confirmed, but he was guessing the training session would be the same time as the one this day, since Nichol would be expected to be present for the Town Council meeting. He looked down and smirked. As soon as this church mission was over, he was going to go straight to Lady Gunilda's cottage. He had some unfinished business with her. Mostly involving the removal of apparel.

"Sounds good to me, Milord." Adam agreed.

The Sheriff looked to Nigel and Richard.

"What about you two? Are you ready for the Sherwood search?" he asked.

"We've heard so much about this bloke. I'm ready for it, Milord Sheriff." Richard nodded.

"Yes, Milord. Some action sounds appealing." Nigel smirked.

"From the sounds of it, most of the action you seek will be tonight at that church, Nigel." Gerad said. Then he looked to the Sheriff, narrowing his blue eyes, curiously. "These Brothers for Jesus blokes seem like nothing but trouble. Shouldn't we have Luke and Castor with us for this, Milord Sheriff?"

"Right. Can you possibly explain why Luke was in the armoury? Don't we need all of the top men right now?" Ancel added.

"Indeed. Didn't Castor mention he was assigned to dungeon duty?" Nigel smirked at Alex.

"Luke and Castor were given different assignments for today, and tomorrow. This is their penance for acting like a pair of fools yesterday while performing the evidence search. They fucked up, so this is the result." Nottingham said, firmly.

"Should have seen this coming." Ancel muttered.

"Indeed, mate." Mordrid nodded.

"You two act like you know something?" the Sheriff said as his eyebrow shot north, suspiciously.

"Just a little… friction with them of late, Milord." Mordrid said. "I shouldn't have sent Cas to help Luke and Nic after he searched the church. I should have had him guard the groundskeeper's quarters while I assisted."

"It's not your fault, Mordrid. This is on them." Nichol said.

"They told us they resolved their differences, today at the training session." Alex chimed in.

"Indeed. They did." Nigel scoffed.

"They told you about this?" the Sheriff asked.

"Only because everyone wanted to know what happened to them. Their faces are hard to ignore right now." Alex shrugged.

"Indeed. Alright, men. We can manage just fine without two of our men. We've got plenty of muscle, skilled swordsman, and three good archers right here in this room -- Mordrid, Ancel, and Nigel. We'll also be joined by Safforus from City Watch." the Sheriff said, then he looked to Nichol. "I don't suppose you thought to bring one of those crossbows and a few of those… arrows, or whatever the hell they're called — "

"Bolt's. They're called bolts, Milord." Nichol corrected him.

"Right. Did you think to bring those along for the best crossbowman, so he can have a go with it?"

"I did." Nichol grinned.

"Splendid." he nodded. "Alright men. Let's go get these cretins. I want that Thorne bloke alive. We need answers out of him." he instructed them.

Then, they arose from their chairs and began to file out of the door of the meeting chamber.

Luke had taken Floria to the fenced in area that was used earlier in the day for crossbow training. The target was still fastened to the tree. He took her in close to it to show it to her.

"So, this is what you men practice on?" Floria asked curiously, nodding to the stuffed man attached to the tree."

"Yes, when training with our bows. We were using it today." Luke said.

"I see. Well, where do you want me to start, Luke? I'm ready." she smiled.

"We're not quite ready for that, my love. We'll get to it." Luke said.

"It's kind of cold out here, Luke. Why the delay?"

"You need to learn a few basic pointers first, Floria. In case you either don't have a weapon on you, or can't load it, or grab it in time."

"Oh. I see. That sounds like a scary thought." Floria frowned.

"It can be if you don't react appropriately, my love. But, I'm going to help you with that. Do not worry."

"Alright. What do you have in mind?" she asked.

Luke took a few steps back from her until he was about six feet away.

"Alright, suppose a bloke has been bothering you, maybe even just looking at you funny, and he's suddenly lunging toward you, facing you." he said as he moved quickly toward her to punctuate his words. He grabbed her shoulders, startling her. "What would you do?"

"Scream." Floria said, simply.

"Yes. That's important to get attention. But, there's something you can actively do to disable him, so you can get away quickly." Luke began.

"What's that. Slap his face?"

"He's got a firm grasp on your shoulders like I do now, Floria. You can't do that. It's a physical impossibility; but, he's not holding your legs." Luke said with a knowing quirk of his brow.

"What?" Floria asked.

"You use your knee, bringing it up with as much force as you can possibly muster and aim it hard in his groin. That will render him disabled for a few moments, giving you time to get away. Then, you have another option to further disable him. Whether you do one, or both of these things, after that, you run. Run like the wind." Luke said.

"What's the other option?"

"Take the heel of your hand and aim it hard under his chin, or upward at his nose. Do that after the groin kick. He'll be in pain at both ends, and it buys you a bit more time to get away." Luke explained.

"I see. Like this?" Floria asked. She held up her hand with the palm flattened and the heel of the palm upward and facing out, as she demonstrated the motion needed, barely grazing Luke's chin, then his nose.

Luke flinched a bit when the heel of her hand came in toward him, then relaxed when she barely made contact.

"Yes. That's perfect, my love." he smiled.

"Alright. Well, that covers when they face me. What if someone sneaks up behind me?" Floria asked.

"Then, you would stomp on the top of their foot, kick backward toward their shin, and start beating your elbows into him. Once he lets go, you break free, and either wound him further with a weapon, or run." Luke instructed.

"Let us hope I'm in neither of those situations, Luke. The hell with that. Show me how to use that bow." Floria said, nodding to the bow that was slung over his shoulder.

As the men were heading into the stables, the Sheriff followed them, walking with Guy, Nichol, and Duke Farnsworth. He looked to his left and saw Luke with Floria in the training area. Luke was holding her shoulders.

"Hmm. That's interesting." he said as he slowed his pace.

"What is it?" Nichol asked.

Guy and the Captain were wondering what he was referring to.

The Sheriff looked to each of them, then nodded to his left. Then, they all observed for a moment.

Floria appeared to be aiming to strike Luke.

"What in the devil is she doing?" the Sheriff asked.

"I might be wrong, but… I think he's teaching her how to defend herself." Nichol shrugged.

"Really?" Guy asked.

"What leads you to draw that conclusion, Nic?" the Sheriff asked, curiously.

"Indeed." the Captain agreed.

"Luke seems to be doing most of the talking. He didn't appear to flinch when she aimed for his head, and he's got that bow and a quiver of arrows slung over his shoulders. The target is still fastened to the tree near where they're standing. We used that today." Nichol explained.

"Interesting." the Sheriff said, softly.

"If that's what he's doing, I wouldn't mind him instructing Meridwyn on a few pointers." Guy said.

"I was just thinking that about Kaeliss." Nichol agreed.

"Hmm. You men might be on to something. I'll find out for certain what he was up to, and if that was the case, then he might just have landed an extra… interesting assignment. Especially, if Rhiannon joins in. She's liable to knock him flying." he scoffed. Then, he straightened his expression. "I'll need to warn her."

Three quarters of an hour later, they arrived to the church. Safforus was there to greet them. They all secured their horses, well in back of the church past the tree line, then took their positions.

Alex pointed out to Nigel the northeast corner of the roof where Luke had climbed to the night before, as they headed to the spots they were assigned to.

"You're telling me the skinny messenger bloke climbed up there?" Nigel asked, in disbelief.

"He did. And, he's not a messenger, Nigel. He's one of us now." Alex corrected him.

"Yes. So, everyone keeps saying." Nigel huffed.

Mordrid took the same position as the night before. Drake was positioned where Castor had been on the first go around.

Some time later, a little more than half an hour, Mordrid spotted riders on the main road approaching from the north. He could see light. Someone, he guessed at the back, was carrying a torch. As they drew closer the light reflected on the glass. He was blinded for a moment. He called to Drake to warn him.

There were four men coming on horseback, following two by two. When the one carrying the torch saw his torch light reflect on something shiny, he abruptly stopped his horse and turned to head back north, strongly suspecting it was a spyglass — much to the dismay of the three others.

The men managed to capture the three men who showed. The Sheriff assigned Richard, Nigel, Mordrid, and Alex to escort the prisoners to the castle, then on to the dungeon.

Two of the men were quite relieved not to be assigned that task, for they had ladies to see. Nichol was debating whether he should stop by to see Lady Kaeliss. And, the Sheriff was wondering if his wife had remembered anything after spending more time reading those cursed missives?