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?

47. Chapter 102

A bit less than half an hour later, the men sent to the tavern entered through the front door of Nottingham Castle. They soon saw the Scribe. Ancel directed him to summon the Sheriff, Gisborne, the Captain, Robert, and Nichol to convene in the Council Quarters. The Scribe agreed and left to carry out the task as Ancel, Luke, Nigel, and Richard headed into the meeting chamber to await their Lord's wrath.

Some fifteen minutes later, the Sheriff had just stepped into the corridor from his rooms. He saw Nichol not too far ahead of him. He caught up to him and looked to him, curiously.

"Where are you headed, Nic?" he asked.

"I've been summoned, mate." Nichol said.

"So have I." Guy said as he walked toward them. He was walking in the opposite direction, but when he saw them just ahead, he walked past the stairs.

"The Scribe said the tavern team wanted to meet with me. He didn't mention anyone else was summoned." the Sheriff sighed.

"The Council Quarters, right? That's where I was told to report to." Guy said.

"Same with me." Nichol said.

"Curses! This can't be good." the Sheriff muttered. He nodded for the men to follow him.

Ten minutes later, they walked into the Council Quarters. Robert and the Captain were already there. A quill and ink jar were on the table in front of Robert. The men sent to the tavern arose from their seats when they entered. The Sheriff frowned when it appeared they hadn't brought prisoners back. Still, he'd wait to see what they had to say. Perhaps the prisoners had already been secured and the men just wanted to brief the rest of them on further updates.

"Good. You're back. Did Joseph find room for them?" the Sheriff asked as he and his men drew closer to the table.

"There was… no need, Milord." Ancel said.

"Oh. So, the cretins took off before you arrived, then. Figures! Funny. You were gone quite awhile?" he said with a curious quirk of his brow.

"No, Milord. We… spoke to them. Well, three of us did. Luke was entertaining the tavern patrons." Ancel said.

"So, they snuck out, then?" the Sheriff asked, pointedly.

"Not… quite, Milord." Richard sighed.

"Aaand, here we go." Nigel softly muttered

"WHAT? You let them get away? Are you fucking for real right now?" Nottingham roared.

"Oh, boy." Robert muttered softly, with a sigh.

"Told you, Ancel. Don't ever say you weren't warned." Nigel spat.

"Indeed." Richard huffed.

"Right. So, I take it since Luke was singing, and playing… that funny looking lute — or whatever that is, and your other two comrades are obviously annoyed with you, this is your doing, Ancel?" the Sheriff demanded.

"Yes, Milord." Ancel nodded. "They had nothing to do with it."

"WHAT?" he bellowed. He swiftly moved in toward him and grabbed him by the collar, pulling him toward him, his other hand on the pommel of his sword.

"Milord?" Luke asked, nervously.

The Sheriff ignored him, keeping his eyes on Ancel. "Explain yourself. Right now! And, you better make it bleeding good!"

"We're meeting them again at the same time tomorrow night, Milord. Charlie and Slayer are well aware." Ancel said, unfazed by his employer's strong arm tactics.

"Great. So, you'll have Slayer there, and he's prepared. But, I think I know which one Charlie might be. Let me guess. The tall slender man who is obviously older than the rest of the staff, with cropped dark hair. Kind brown eyes. Smiles a lot. Am I right?" the Sheriff huffed.

"Yes." Ancel said.

"And, what good will it do that he knows this? How is he to assist you?" the Sheriff demanded.

"It's his tavern. I informed him out of courtesy." Ancel said, maintaining the Sheriff's piercing gaze.

"Don't be smart mouthed, Ancel. Not now." Nigel warned.

"Indeed, Nigel." the Sheriff agreed. He looked back to Ancel, still holding him by his collar. "Tell me now, Ancel. Why the bleeding hell did you let those Jesus blokes escape?" he demanded.

"They were at ease with us. They think we're Aleyn, Noah, and Walter who accompanied their mate, a Bard named Lucas, into the tavern for a night of merriment. We got first names. They invited us to their table, then they asked to meet us the same time tomorrow night." Ancel explained.

"Walter?" Guy muttered, chuckling.

"Beats me?" Nichol grinned.

"Indeed." Duke Farnsworth scoffed.

"And?" the Sheriff demanded. "You say you got their given names. Was any of them named… oh, I don't know? Gunter, perhaps?"

"No. But, we're quite certain that once we meet up, they'll ask us to join them at another location altogeth — "

"Of course, Ancel! They're planning to ambush you men! You absolute bleeding fool!" Nottingham shouted.

"Now would be the time to pull that ace out of your sleeve, Ancel — if you have it." Richard advised.

Ancel looked to Richard and nodded.

Everyone looked to Ancel curiously; as the Sheriff seethed with rage, still with a firm hold on Ancel's collar and his right hand on the pommel of his sword.

"There will be more of them, obviously, wherever they plan to take us. My guess is… Gunter Thorne will be there, waiting." Ancel said.

The Sheriff sharply exhaled as he stared into Ancel's eyes. He held his gaze for a few moments, then he let go of him.

"Curses! Alright, men. Everyone take a seat. We need to work on Plan Fucking B." the Sheriff sighed.

"Good one, Ancel. You took it like a champ." Nigel said softly, quietly slapping Ancel on the back before they sat.

Ancel looked to him and nodded.

"Damn, that was close." Richard muttered, then discreetly genuflected.

"I don't think I've ever once seen him like this?" Luke whispered to the men. Even when the Sheriff grabbed him by the collar nearly a fortnight ago, not even knowing who Luke was, it was nothing like how he acted with Ancel.

"Consider yourself lucky, kid. That was actually mild." Nigel said with a knowing quirk of his brow.

"What are you men chatting about? Be seated. Have you eaten?" the Sheriff asked.

"Not sure if I'll be able to swallow after that." Ancel muttered, so that only his comrades could hear him.

"No, Milord. Ancel was quite committed to our… little act. We sipped of a concoction of half water and half ale so that people who were looking would think we were drinking." Richard explained.

"The kid had his lemon and honey tea, then he practically blew the roof off the place. None of us ate." Nigel added.

"I see." Nottingham nodded. He looked to the floor and smirked at Nigel's comment about Luke. Then, he straightened his expression, looked up, and asked the rest the same thing.

Duke Farnsworth and Nichol reported they had not yet dined.

"Right. Everyone get settled. I'll go and summon for food. We're probably going to be here for awhile. You're going to need back up tomorrow night. We need to discuss our strategy." he said.

"I'll take care of that, Milord." Luke offered.

"No. You get seated. Let me blow off some steam, lad." the Sheriff said.

Luke nodded, then the Sheriff walked to the door.

He didn't see the sentry right away, and muttered curses under his breath about that. Then, he heard a couple of men talking and laughing, and looked to where the sound was coming from. It was Drake and Adam. They were dressed as if they'd just been out and looked to be headed to the Dining Hall. He shook his head and sighed, then walked toward them. He positioned himself in their path with his arms folded.

They were too wrapped up in their conversation to notice him.

"That was incredible, mate. He was bleeding epic! He didn't just sing a tune. He held the entire audience in the palm of his hand, I swear!" Adam chuckled.

"I've never seen anything like it, mate. He needs to do more of that. He was so damn good!" Drake exclaimed.

"A little late for you two, isn't it? When you have an early start in the morning?" the Sheriff said, stopping them in their tracks.

"We were just headed to the Dining Hall, Milord. We… kind of forgot about our evening meal." Adam said.

"But, it was worth it." Drake added.

"Right. And, where did you just come from?" he asked, pointedly.

"We, uh… we went to the tavern, Milord." Adam said.

"To hear Luke." Drake nodded.

"I see." he scoffed.

"You must book him for any future fetes, Milord. It was insane! The people were clapping along, chanting his name — " Drake began, but was cut off.

"And, they were throwing money at him! It was bleeding wild, Milord!" Adam exclaimed, excitedly.

"Great. So, you interfered in their operation." he sighed.

"No, Milord. They never knew we were there." Adam said.

"We stayed away from them, and waited for them to leave before we did." Drake explained.

"And, you don't understand. It was very crowded in there. People kept coming in to find out who the Bard was who was performing." Adam added.

"Good. Alright. Be quick about it in the Dining Hall. Tell your server in the Dining Hall to have Jean Louis send food for six hungry men in the Council Quarters… since the sentry assigned to door duty seems to have disappeared." he sighed. "We'll need a pitcher of water, too."

"Very well, Milord." Adam nodded.

"Of course, Milord." Drake agreed.

Moments later, he walked back into the meeting chamber and took his place at the head of the table.

"Alright. Let's have it. Let's start with the names of the cretins you pretended to be friendly with." the Sheriff said, gesturing with his fingers, waving toward him.

"Right. The man who approached us is named Artorus. He was the one who invited us to their table." Ancel said.

"And, the others? How many were there?" the Sheriff asked.

"There were three of them altogether, Milord. The dark haired bloke said his name is Bert." Richard added.

"What a bleeding boring name. About as inspiring as the other bloke — the ginger wonder who acted like he had a large stick planted firmly up his — " Nigel began, but was cut off.

"A name, Nigel?" Nottingham sighed.

"Another classic, Milord. They called him Stan." Nigel smirked.

"Sorry, I can't be of help with that, Milord." Luke added.

The Sheriff scoffed and turned to Luke.

"No, Luke. It seems to me you held up your end rather well." Nottingham smirked. "Betwixt Nigel's comment about blowing the roof off the tavern, and the comments from two other of your comrades who witnessed this, we're going to get around to you shortly." the Sheriff hinted.

"What's this about two comrades who watched, Milord?" Luke swallowed, dryly.

"It's not gossip because I'm confident they'll tell you about it. However, if you don't know, I won't spoil it." Nottingham said.

"No. I don't know." Luke shrugged, shaking his head.

"That's news to me." Ancel frowned.

"I didn't see anyone, but we were too focused on Art, Bert, and Stan." a beat. "Stan the man." Nigel sighed, shaking his head.

"I didn't see any other of your men, Milord. It was quite crowded in there. But, Nigel is right. We were concentrated on the three Brotherhood blokes." Richard added.

"Good. I plan to have a word with them about not crashing undercover operations in future. I didn't want to waste time in the corridor." he said.

"Milord, I'm wondering if I should get that members list that was given to you by Mordrid's team on Saturday? We could look for the names of the three men you were just given." Robert suggested.

"It's a good idea, Robert. I'll get it." the Sheriff said. He arose from his chair and walked over to the desk where he recently stashed them.

"By the way, that's an interesting touch, you two." Nichol said, gesturing to his ear, while pointing to Nigel and Ancel.

"Indeed." Nottingham grinned as he seated himself. "Whose idea was that?"

"It was Ancel's, but I thought it was a good one." Nigel smirked.

"Yeah. He kind of took to it." Richard said, nodding to Nigel.

"Ancel offered the second one in the pair to all of us, but we declined." Luke said, nodding to Richard.

"I see." the Sheriff nodded, then he began to scan the members list.

After a few moments of looking, he nodded then looked up.

"Found that Artorus bloke. Artorus Becker. Can't find anyone by the name of Stan, or Bert, though." Nottingham frowned.

"Perhaps those are nicknames, Milord?" Duke Farnsworth suggested.

"Right. Bert could be short for Albert, or something similar. Not sure about Stan, however." Guy mused.

"Maybe it's Thurstan?" Duke Farnsworth suggested.

"Milord, I'll take a look. Perhaps I could find them while you move on with the next steps." Robert offered.

"Very well." he nodded, then passed him the document.

Robert took it and began to study it.

"There's going to be others waiting in the wings tomorrow night. No one will be in uniform. We'll have men in the tavern, watching; Slayer will be there; and others will be outside. The second those cretins walk you out the door there will be a tail on you men." the Sheriff said.

"Understood, Milord. Perfect." Ancel said.

"The more the merrier." Richard nodded.

"Nothing merry about this, mate. They'll be taking us to a trap." Nigel said.

"Indeed. It was an expression, mate." Richard sighed.

"I'm all for back up. We appreciate that, Milord." Luke nodded.

Just then, there was a knock on the door. Guy went to answer it and held the door while a couple of servants brought trays of food inside and a put a water pitcher on the table. They deftly set the food on the table and set out plates, napkins, and cutlery for the men to help themselves.

The servants took their leave, as the men began to serve themselves.

"I think I found them, Milord." Robert said, checking the parchment once again before looking up.

"Amazing. Tell us, Robert." the Sheriff directed him.

"It looks to me like… Hubert Rowntree, and Wolfstan Cross.Those are the only given names I can find with Bert and Stan contained in the names." Robert nodded.

"Good. I see you have your quill and ink with you."

"Yes. I brought them in case you needed note taking." Robert said.

"Good. Put an asterisk beside those names, and that Artorus Becker bloke. Then, I want you to put a check mark beside the names of Father Titlittle, Everard Nesdin, and Merek Busby. Once we know the names of the others downstairs we'll put a check beside theirs, too." the Sheriff said.

"Of course, Milord." Robert nodded, then dipped his quill in the ink jar.

"Wolfstan Cross. What an apt moniker for such a miserable bloke." Nigel chuckled.

"I would concur." Ancel nodded.

"So, who is accompanying the men on this covert mission, Milord?" Duke Farnsworth asked.

"I want Safforus and Albert outside with crossbows. We'll send Mordrid, Drake, Adam, Castor, Alex, and Gerad. In addition, you will be there, Gis, and myself." the Sheriff said.

"You don't want my help?" Nichol asked.

"You spent some time in that tavern recently. You might be recognized by some, as well, since you were my Captain not that long ago. You and Robert shall be in charge here, Nic." Nottingham said.

"Of course." Nichol nodded.

"Milord, with all due respect, how will you and Sir Guy accomplish this? Everyone in town recognizes you both." Luke pointed out, then took a bite of roasted chicken.

"Very carefully, Luke. We'll most likely be outside with the crossbowmen." he said, then sipped of some water from his goblet.

"I see. Very well." Luke nodded.

"On your way to Sherwood in the morning, stop by and inform Safforus of this, Duke." the Sheriff added.

"It will be done, Milord." Duke Farnsworth nodded.

"Right. So, we got that sorted for now. Since things started out heated in here, let's move on to something… light." he said, then looked to Luke. "Tell us about your experience, Luke."

"I didn't feel like I was much help. Yet, it was… surprisingly liberating, Milord." Luke nodded, then sipped of his water.

"The kid killed it, quite frankly." Nigel smirked.

"Never heard anyone play a stringed instrument the way he did, Milord. It was really good." Richard said.

"The crowd was going wild for him. If only you could have seen it." Ancel added.

"Sounds intriguing." Duke Farnsworth smiled.

"It was!" Richard nodded.

There was another knock at the door. The Sheriff stood and went to answer it.

He was pleased to see it was Mordrid.

"I thought you might be in here, Milord. I saw light from under the door. Just wanted to know if you wanted to meet with the team I'll be with on the morrow before we leave?" Mordrid asked.

"Yes. Come in, Mordrid. The men are back from the tavern. There's food on the table if you're hungry." he said.

"Thank you, Milord." Mordrid nodded. Then, he walked inside and joined the rest of the men at the table.

The Sheriff took his seat, and updated Mordrid on what had happened at the tavern, and the plan for the following night.

"Ah. So, you think that Gunter bloke will be meeting with you?" Mordrid asked Ancel.

"Yes. That is my hunch." Ancel nodded.

"I see." Mordrid nodded. Then, he smirked as he took in the men's appearance.

"So, those blokes think you're all just… ordinary blokes? Sort of?" Mordrid grinned.

"The one bloke thinks we're criminals who top Milord's wanted list. That's why he approached us." Nigel shrugged, then took a bite of fresh bread.

"Really?" Nottingham scoffed.

"Yes, Milord. That's pretty much what Artorus told us, verbatim." Ancel said.

"Classic!" Nichol chuckled.

"I'll say." Luke sighed.

"How the hell did you manage that?" Mordrid asked. "Besides… whatever that stuff is on your faces. The earbob things are a personal favourite, too." he chuckled.

"They think we're Aleyn, Noah, and Walter who went to the tavern with their mate, Lucas, the Bard." Richard shrugged.

"I see. And, how did the Bard act go over?" Mordrid asked.

"Oh, that reminds me." Luke said. He reached down under his chair and grabbed the leather sack he placed there when they first entered the meeting chamber. "Since I was working for you, this is yours, Milord. I offered it to Charlie, but he refused." Luke said, passing it to the Sheriff.

"What is this, lad?" Nottingham asked.

"Just a little — " Luke began, but was interrupted.

"A little? You jesting, kid? People were throwing their money at him, Milord! It was classic!" Nigel chuckled.

"WHAT?" Mordrid asked, incredulously.

"He was quite good from what I heard of it." Ancel said.

"The kid fucking killed it, Mordrid." Nigel added.

Nottingham opened it and peered inside. Then, he began to chuckle while showing it to Guy, Duke Farnsworth, Robert, and Nichol.

"Holy hell, Luke!" Guy chuckled.

"Well, it seems to me you have loads of admirers, Luke." Robert smiled.

"Astonishing!" the Captain exclaimed.

"Not really, Duke. We had the pleasure of hearing him for a couple of moments before they left earlier." Nichol said.

"Yes, and he didn't even have that queer looking lute with him." the Sheriff added.

"It's a gittern, actually." Luke said.

"You earned every bit of this, Luke. Take this, and enjoy it. Every time you use money from this sack, remember that people enjoy hearing you entertain." the Sheriff said, passing the leather sack back to him.

"It feels strange accepting this." Luke frowned, shaking his head.

"He's right. You earned that, Luke." Ancel said.

"Take it, lad." the Sheriff said.

"Very well." Luke nodded. He took the sack and placed it back under his chair.

"Hey! What was that second tune you played, kid? I didn't get a chance to pay attention to it all, because that was when the tall bloke took the rest of us to meet Bert and Stan." Nigel asked.

"The wording was a bit morose, but the music kind of… elevated it." Richard added.

"Yes, it had a good beat to it. What's the title of that one, Luke?" Ancel asked.

"It's called "Last Kiss Goodbye". I wrote it a few months ago." Luke said.

"You did?" Nigel asked.

"Yes." Luke nodded. Then, he looked to the Captain. "Remember when we met up north, four months ago? I wrote it as I got closer to Nottingham with the missive you gave to me to deliver to Milord."

"I do remember, Luke. And, now, you have my curiosity piqued. Can you share it with us?" Duke Farnsworth asked.

"What? Right now?" Luke asked, quite taken by surprise.

"Why not?" Nichol asked, curiously.

"We're in the middle of a meeting, are we not?" Luke pointed out.

"We've sorted the important points, Luke. We can take a few moments to listen." the Sheriff said, then sipped of his water.

"I'd like to hear it, Luke." Mordrid said.

"I would too. It sounded good, what I got out of it." Nigel agreed.

"You sure you're not sick of hearing me?" Luke asked.

"Go on, Luke." the Sheriff encouraged him.

"Very well." Luke said, then took a few sips of water.

Luke moved his chair back, away from the table. He grabbed his gittern that was propped up against the wall behind him and held it in both hands in his lap. He positioned both hands, the right on the body of the instrument, the left on the neck, and began to start with a pleasing melody, while intermittently tapping on the wood, and tapping his boot on the floor, in time.

"How much do you want to hear of it?" Luke asked while continuing to play.

"All of it." Duke Farnsworth said.

"Hit us with it, Luke." Mordrid said.

"Might as well. We can't really listen to you when we're working." Nigel added.

Luke nodded, then he began.

"The wind is howling on this winding path,

Some clown is raging up ahead,

He's killing the silence,

Never making sense,

The spirits no doubt went straight to his head."

"Holy. Fuck." Mordrid softly muttered with a smirk.

"Nice!" Duke Farnsworth smiled.

"One hundred miles from my starting point,

Me and the ghost of you land here, Mmm…

I just move along,

So I won't come undone,

Run away from tears." Luke sang. Then he looked up and said softly, "Here we go."

"Did I just miss

My last chance at happiness?

Was that the only love I'll know?

Was that a demon's kiss, or did my pride mislead me?

Back on the path

I've never rode."

The Sheriff smiled with pride as he watched his favourite Knight entertain them. He really was a natural with this.

Luke took a few moments to play before starting the next verse. Everyone was quiet in the room as all eyes were upon him. Before he sang, he hit five notes on the gittern, followed by three taps on the wood, then continued.

"There's some things a man will do,

he'll justify,

But not my deed, I can't forgive,

No…

I had a chance,

Could have made it right,

Not realizing, I gave her her last kiss.

"Was that not real?

Or, was I only dreaming?

Been a long journey, after all.

Was that a demon's kiss, or did my pride mislead me?

Am I the reason for her fall?"

He played on the gittern for a few minutes. The men were focused entirely on him, even if some were sipping water, or nibbling on something. Luke continued the surprisingly slightly uptempo melody, hitting the five signature notes and three taps on the wood, along with his boot tapping on the floor, before starting the next verse.

"The man still shouts, he won't relent

He's wailing now,

Lamenting of the world's end,

Mmm…

We both could use a saviour

But now I know that mine,

She's gone, and I'm still trying to make sense.

"Did I just miss

My last chance at happiness?

Was that the only love I'll know?

Was that a demon's kiss, or did my pride mislead me?

Back on the path

I've never rode." Luke sang, then played the same melody, but softer. He continued a few moments, completing the song.

All the men gathered applauded at the end, and some of them cheered.

"Can I get back to my chicken now?" Luke smirked. He put the gittern back against the wall, then pulled his chair in closer to the table.

"That was fantastic, Luke." Duke Farnsworth smiled.

"I can't believe it. You're really good, mate! Damn!" Mordrid exclaimed.

"Charlie told him he would have hired Luke right then on the spot if not for his role over here." Ancel said. He looked to the Sheriff. "You were right, Milord."

"I had a feeling." Nottingham smirked.

"I've a question." Nigel said to Luke.

"Very well. What is it?" Luke asked, then took a bite of his roasted chicken.

"You said you wrote that while on your way to Nottingham. That was in the summer." Nigel began.

"Yes." Luke nodded.

"What inspired it?" Nigel asked, curiously.

"If it's his own story, it seems kind of personal, mate." Richard said to Nigel.

"If It were that personal he wouldn't have written a song about it and shared it with people." Nigel pointed out.

Nottingham sighed and took a sip of water. The words in the tune implied Luke was referring to his late lady friend.

"I wrote it about a maiden named Emma." Luke said, confirming the Sheriff's guess.

"Was… she your — " Ancel started to ask, but was interrupted.

"I was planning to marry her, but… she died." Luke said, simply.

"What?" Mordrid asked, shocked that Luke had never mentioned this before now.

"Damn, kid." Nigel sighed.

"Kind of puts a new spin on it now." Richard frowned.

"Condolences, Luke. That's rough, lad." Nichol said, softly.

"You have mine, as well. I like that tune. It's got a good beat and clever use of phrasing, but… perhaps not the best choice when you entertain us at my wife's birthday celebration, Luke. Especially, given the current state of things. It's a little too melancholy, perhaps." Guy said.

"Of course. I'm thinking of retiring it for good, anyway." Luke said.

"What exactly does that mean regarding a song, Luke?" Nichol asked, curiously.

"It means I cease to perform it publicly." Luke replied.

"I see." Nichol nodded.

"Understandable. Given the fact that it's true. Or, I guess the part about her being a ghost is." Guy nodded.

"Which is another reason to retire it. Don't have to answer the questions that invariably come with a piece like that." Luke shrugged. Then, he looked to the Sheriff. "What about tomorrow night, Milord? Am I to pose as the Bard again?"

"You weren't posing, Luke. You were better than most Bards." Richard pointed out.

"Well, it would seem that Art, Bert, and Stan believe you're a Bard. So, take that funny looking lute thing with — "

"It's a gittern, Milord." Luke corrected him.

"Right. Take that with you, and at least play the part. If you show up without it, they might be suspicious." Nottingham said.

Luke acknowledged with a nod.

"Milord, there's something I forgot to mention." Ancel said.

"What is it?"

"Someone unexpected showed at our table." Ancel began.

"Yes. Immediately after that Artorus bloke arrived to us and seated himself like he owned the place." Nigel frowned.

"Whom?" the Sheriff asked.

"Lady Gunilda. She just breezed on over to us as if she were our long lost friend, and started up this… very weird conversation with that Artorus bloke." Ancel said, shaking his head.

"Ah, yes. That weird witchy woman who… smells strange things." Mordrid scoffed.

"Wait. Some of you know her? Who the hell is she? That was the strangest encounter ever. That was even stranger than the tall bloke seating himself in Luke's empty chair, and asking who the leader of our crew was." Nigel added.

"Wait. Gunilda? I could have sworn she introduced herself as Lady Gisela?" Richard shrugged.

"Her name is Gunilda Hayward. She's new in town. Friendly. Relatively harmless. I had her checked out. She's eccentric, but no one we need to worry about. She employs Safforus." the Sheriff said.

"Does she have a brother?" Nigel asked.

"No. She has no siblings." the Sheriff said. "Why do you ask?"

"She told Artorus that his mates talked to her brother about joining them. Then she asked if she could join in whatever their cause was, too." Richard shrugged.

"Interesting. How did he respond to that?" the Sheriff asked, curiously.

"He told her there was no cause to join and if there were they wouldn't be asking ladies to join them." Ancel said.

"So, then she left to join the crowd cheering on Luke, saying there was a… better aura over there." Richard added. "Whatever the hell that means." he shrugged.

"And, I got the impression that he was going to get back to her. He kept looking her way. Then, it was this total switch near the end -- as if he'd forgotten all about her. He didn't even notice her leaving, which was really strange to me." Nigel said, then took a bite of cheese.

"Yes. I noticed that, too. It was extremely odd." Ancel agreed.

"It was like she knew that he and the other two blokes are rebels. How in the devil would she know that?" Nigel asked.

"Because she smells things." Mordrid chuckled.

"She mentioned something about that. Said she could smell desperation in the air when she walked by their table, or some such nonsense." Richard said.

"I see. I wouldn't worry about it, men. I'll talk to her, find out what she knows." the Sheriff said. He took a sip of water from his goblet.

"I think that would be prudent. That sounds a bit strange, Milord." the Captain said.

"Indeed." the Sheriff nodded. Then, he looked to his three top men. "You will need to see me before you go in the morning. I need to tell you about the Jesus blokes' meeting place."

"Of course, Milord." Ancel nodded.

"Yes, Milord." Luke agreed.

"Very well. But, given what was just reported to us, how do you want it handled if the place is occupied?" Mordrid asked.

"Use your judgement. First, you will have Ancel confirm if those Art, Bert, or Stan blokes are present. If they are, retreat. We'll get more out of them by continuing with tomorrow night's plan. You're there to gather evidence." the Sheriff said.

"Understood, Milord." Mordrid nodded.

The meeting wrapped up a short time later. After the top men left, the Sheriff informed Nichol, Richard, and Nigel to report to him in the morning at the same time as the warehouse team. They agreed, then all of them left, most of them heading to their rooms.

Soon, Ancel was knocking on Rebeccah's door. Within moments, the door opened. She smiled when she greeted him.

"Good. You're back. Safe. I was a bit worried about the unfavourable characters you mentioned." Rebeccah said.

"It was fine. There were a few tense moments not that long ago." Ancel began, thinking of the Sheriff's reaction. "But, everything is fine, my dear. There's just one thing."

"What's that?"

"My comrade and I will need these earbob things tomorrow night, too. Can I give them back to you then?"

"Of course. Would you like to come in?"

"Very well. Just for a little while." Ancel nodded.

He stepped inside, then he held her in his arms after the door closed.

"You smell like ale, pipe smoke, and leather. I don't know where you were, but… you look… amazing, Ancel." Rebeccah whispered.

Ancel took her face in his hands and leaned down, kissing her softly, then passionately. A warm, languid kiss. At the end of it, he looked into her eyes and smirked.

"You're a very lucky woman, my dear." he said.

Rebeccah frowned.

"Why? Let me guess. Because I'm with you?" she muttered with a suspicious quirk of her brow. "Arrogance doesn't become you, Ancel." a beat. "But, then again, maybe it does." she sighed.

"No, nothing like that, Rebeccah. You're lucky because you don't work for the Sheriff." Ancel said.

"Oh, so now it comes out. Now, he's not so great of an employer. I see."

"What? No. If you'd let me finish instead of resorting to conjectures." Ancel sighed.

"Then, What makes me so lucky?" she asked, pointedly.

"You don't work for him. Therefore, we're not breaking his rule. Rule number one." Ancel said.

"What rule is that?" Rebeccah asked, curiously.

"That staff must never mix romantically." he smirked.

"Oh. I see. How… convenient." Rebeccah smiled.

"Yes. Lucky for us both, my dear." Ancel said as he pulled her into a warm embrace and resumed kissing her.

Luke sighed before he knocked on Floria's door. He was hoping to return to her long before now. He had visited his rooms first to put away the sack of money Charlie gave to him, and his gittern, before leaving again to check on her.

A few moments passed, then the door opened.

"I wasn't sure I'd see you again tonight." Floria said.

She stood before him wearing her soft hooded dressing gown over her shift. Her hood was pulled up. As she got a better look at him, she narrowed her eyes, then an eyebrow quirked, curiously.

"Forgive me. Something happened during the meeting that required the Sheriff to send some of his men out on a short mission. I was one of them he sent." Luke explained.

"What… is that on your face? And, lining your eyes?" Floria asked, slowly shaking her head.

"Just part of a… disguise. For the mission I was sent out on." Luke explained.

"Interesting. It looks… fascinating… " she mused. Then, she softly cleared her throat. "Come in, Luke. Some warm mead with added honey just arrived. I sent for two mugs just in case." Floria said, holding the door for him.

Luke nodded and walked inside.

After she closed the door, he took her in his arms and kissed her softly.

"Tell me what was troubling you earlier, my love." he whispered as he looked into her eyes.

"It was a missive… that brought memories back that I thought I'd buried." Floria said, softly.

"Alright. I'm here now, Floria. We won't be disturbed. Let's talk about it, then. And, while you tell me, I'm going to get a fire started for you. You're shivering." Luke said. He walked to the fireplace, crouched down and went to work.

"Thank you, my sweet." Floria said, then she seated herself on the sofa and sipped of her mead.

"What happened, my love?" Luke turned back to face her, holding some kindling in his hands. "You were acting like… someone died."

"Someone did die, Luke. And, the only reason I'm glad I know about it is because now, I'll be able to go and spit on his grave when the mood hits." Floria said, flatly.

"Jesus!" Luke exclaimed. He got the tinder going. He quickly added the kindling, then turned around to look at her. "Whom, my love? Who is it who has you in such a fluster?"

"He was technically an uncle, but he's been dead to me for years, to be honest."

"I see. So, I suppose there's a story behind that anger." Luke remarked. He put a log onto the fire, then walked back to join her on the soft cushioned sofa.

"It's not a story, Luke. It's the truth. The truth isn't always nice." Floria said, then sipped of her mead.

"Yes, my love. I agree with you there." he said as put his arm around her.

"He was my father's brother. I was young when father died. So, he started coming around under the pretence of helping my mother." Floria began.

"Seems reasonable enough." Luke said.

Luke reached down to the table in front of him and grabbed the mug of mead. He smiled when he noticed the small bouquet of yellow and blue chrysanthemums in a short vase, which was placed on the table. Many of her feminine touches had been added, enhancing the decor, and giving a welcoming sense to her rooms.

"Sure. In normal families it is. But, he wasn't normal, Luke. He wouldn't help. He would drink excessively, and when he was supposed to be minding me when mother was trying to earn a living for us, he was… " Floria looked down as she let her words trail off and set her mug back on the table.

"He was… what, Floria?" Luke asked, softly. He had a tense feeling in his gut that wherever she was going with this, it wasn't good. He sighed and took a generous swill of the mead.

"He was entirely inappropriate with a little girl!" Floria snapped. Then, she put her head in her hands, and began to softly weep.

"Fucking bastard!" Luke muttered. "Did that scum… violate you?"

"If violation strictly means penetration, then… no. But, I still felt violated then, and I do now — remembering this pure fucking bollocks!" Floria cried.

"Floria." Luke whispered. "It's alright, my love. He can never hurt you again. I will never let anyone hurt you ever again." he set the mug on the table, then held her to him, stroking her silky hair to soothe her.

"I know, my love. You're the sweetest, kindest man I've ever known. I'm so lucky that you love me." Floria whispered. She looked up into his eyes. "You… still love me after… knowing this, don't you?" she asked, tentatively.

"Of course, I do." Luke smiled. He pulled her in close to him and kissed the top of her head. "What I don't understand, my love, is why someone felt the need to find you and inform you of this?"

"First of all, the only one who knew was my mother — who promptly booted him out the door. We moved away after that." Floria said, softly. Then, she sighed before she gazed into Luke's magnetic blue green eyes. "And because, apparently, I am his heir." a beat. "Isn't that a joke? He had no children, and he was my father's only relative. So, he left everything to me. As if I would fucking care!" Floria huffed.

"I understand your anger, Floria — "

"Do you?"

"Right. Maybe I don't. But, I understand your reaction. However, it might be best to sit on this for a few days before you do anything rash." Luke gently advised.

"What could I do that would be considered rash, Luke? I can't kill him. He's already dead. If I wanted to be rash I would've killed him before nature took its course." Floria pointed out.

"I mean, making a decision to decline whatever your inheritance is. It could have an influence on your future."

"I only care if my future involves you being at my side, Luke."

"Of course, my love. But… what about the shop you want to open in future?" Luke reminded her.

"Yes. I'd like to do that, unless you have objections?"

"I don't have any objections. You can realize your dreams, and I'll still be at your side. Whatever he left for you might help with that." Luke explained.

"If that beast left any money for me, I'd like to shove it up his ass using a very large stick before they bury him!" Floria exclaimed, exasperated.

Luke looked away for a moment and grinned, stifling a chuckle. He'd never heard her use so many obscenities before, and he was beyond shocked now, and quite amused by that. That part helped to quell the anger that he could never put to use for what had been done to Floria, because it was too late. The bastard was already dead.

"Of course, my love. Just think a little longer about it, alright?"

"Okay, but I'm only doing it for you, Luke." she nodded, then nuzzled against his chest.

Nigel had just left the grounds upon his horse. He was too wound up to sleep. Between the excitement at the tavern, and the meeting they just had with the Sheriff — which went from tense, to ordinary, yet unusual in no time — he decided he needed some air. He would ride for a bit and then return, hoping the crisp night air would finally lull him off to sleep.

He had only travelled about three miles when he spotted a rider coming toward him. As they drew closer, he could tell it was a maiden upon the horse. He squinted his eyes to get a better look. Then, he sighed.

Nigel eased his horse in closer, blocking her path. The maiden brought her horse to a stop.

"Oh, my God! He lives." the pretty maiden said with her eyebrow quirked curiously over her blue eyes.

"Aeleanna, what the hell are you doing out on your own at this time of night?" Nigel admonished her.

"What the hell is on your face? And, why are you wearing an earring, for heaven's sake?" the comely maiden demanded. Her long wavy golden locks peaked from beneath her hood, and floated in the chill air of the night.

"It was part of a disguise for a job I was doing. What are you doing? It's late! Have I taught you nothing?"

"Heard you were back. Was coming to see for myself. I thought you were dead. It's been ages, Nigel! Half a fucking year! What in the devil?"

"We didn't get much notice. No time to prepare. We were sent out on a mission that took us way the hell up north in the bleeding County of York, and ended up being complex, and very deep. Didn't get back until two nights ago. That's all I can say about it, but, you knew from the very beginning it wasn't going to be easy." Nigel said with a knowing quirk of his brow.

He cared for her. Aeleanna was special. But, sometimes her challenging him a little too liberally got under his skin. He was planning to visit the brothel in the next day or two, hoping one of his usual choices were available, since until now, he was convinced she'd be through with him. But, this might do rather nicely, he thought. He would much rather be with her.

"Lover, I thought you were bleeding dead!" the pretty maiden gasped.

"Let me show you just how alive I am." Nigel smirked, salaciously. He took his surcoat off and handed it to her. "Put this on and pull up the hood. And, for God's sake make sure your skirt isn't showing at the bottom. You'll look just like one of us."

"You're sneaking me into the castle?" she smirked. She took the surcoat and followed his instructions with it, laying her own cape over the saddle.

"I'd take you directly to my rooms, but if we were seen people would think you're a consort. There's somewhere on the main floor that no one visits at the best of times." Nigel said.

"Wouldn't it be easier if we just went back to my manor, Nigel? We wouldn't have to sneak aroun — "

"You love the danger, Leanna. Don't pretend you don't. It's part of the adventure. When we keep things spontaneous, we have a much better time of it. You know this!" he sighed.

"Hmm. I suppose you're right. Except, I don't need all of that extra drama to create my need for you that was already there. I… missed you." she said, softly.

"It's been a long ass time, gorgeous. I've missed you, too. Let's have a little fun." Nigel smirked. His green eyes twinkled with the thoughts swirling in his mind.

"Very well, Nigel. Lead the way." she smiled.

A short time later, after he secured their horses, they walked together into the castle. They followed along for a few minutes on the main floor. Nigel was glad he didn't see anyone he recognized except a couple of servants. He handled that by instructing his paramour to keep her head low. Soon, they arrived to the door. He opened it and he ushered her inside.

"The library, Nigel?" she sighed.

"I told you, no one comes in here." he said.

Nigel grabbed her by the hand and led her to a corner of the large room by a window, where books lined the shelves floor to ceiling, and a few chairs were placed.

"You're just what I need right now." Nigel growled as he moved in toward her, putting his hands on her shoulders.

"Right. It's been a long time. You're generally insatiable. You're telling me that there's been no one else in all this time?" Aeleanna asked, suspiciously.

"Lady, there was neither the time, nor the opportunity for anything like that. Trust me. What about you?" he asked with his eyebrow quirked, suspiciously. "You say you thought I was dead, after all."

"Just one man." she smirked.

"What!" he admonished in a whisper.

"Yes. Just one man. You. Every night in my dreams, I was fucking you, Nigel." she whispered into his ear.

"That's my girl!" Nigel whispered, then grabbed the back of her head, pulling her into him, and kissing her fervently.

They stayed like that a few moments, then she looked up at him, breaking the kiss.

"I was going mad without you, lover. I was worried about you." Aeleanna whispered.

"Forgive me, Leanna. I couldn't send word because it would have compromised the assignment I was on. I'm here now." Nigel said, softly.

"I like this new look of yours, handsome. And, I'm not talking about whatever that is on your face. Your… hair. It's… so pretty. It's… almost as pretty as any maiden's? And… " Aeleanna whispered as she ran her hands over his arms and gently squeezed. "Did you… put on muscle? How is that possible?"

"Lots of training." he smiled.

"I'm still deciding about the earring, however. Can't tell if it's weird… or sensual." she scoffed.

"Either way, I'll take it." Nigel smirked.

Lady Aeleanna, his most eager paramour, removed his surcoat from her and threw it on a chair beside her while he resumed kissing her, simultaneously unbuttoning the bodice of her gown. Within moments it seemed, she was completely naked. Her gown and shift were tossed to the floor. She bent over the back of the chair and spread her legs, looking back at him seductively, over her shoulder. Her shiny blond, wavy tresses spilled over her shoulders, framing her face, and just touching her long dark eyelashes. They perfectly framed her smouldering blue eyes which further enticed him with their gaze.

"Come, lover. I'm ready for you." Aeleanna purred, desperately, while swaying her hips side to side, enticing him.

Nigel discreetly licked his lips with a smouldering gaze, and unfastened his breeches as he moved in behind her. He reached out and stroked her intimately.

"Fuck, you're wet! Got me hard as steel for you." he growled. He felt himself harden for her even more.

"Then, give it to me, lover. It's been too fucking long!" she pleaded, opening her legs even more.

"Fucking right, it has!" he whispered into her ear. Then, he guided himself inside of her, as his breeches fell down around his ankles. "God damn, lady! How'd you know I was in desperate need of a good hard fuck?"

"Mmm, I needed you, too. Give it to me, lover! I need to feel all of you!" she squealed, as she frantically moved her hips back and forth against him.

"Good girl. You did wait for me. You're… gah! So tight! Leanna… " Nigel growled as he slammed into her, while tugging on her hair.

"Mmm, Nigel… " she moaned. "I missed you, stud. Fuck me good, lover!"

"Fuck, you feel good on my cock, gorgeous! Damn!" he growled.

"Mmm. Yes! Give it to me hard, lover. Then, you can fuck my mouth when you're ready." she moaned.

"That's what I like about you. You always know what I need." he whispered. "You know I love watching you when you do that, my gorgeous, sweet slut. Fuck!" Nigel exclaimed as he pumped her hard.

He finally fell into a peaceful sleep hours later after he escorted her home, which, fortunately, was not far away. As he closed his eyes, he thought of the many ways in which Aeleanna pleased him.

At the same time, Ancel was in Rebeccah's large, soft bed with her. He had his arm around her, holding her close to him. He'd just taken her recently, and it was everything he imagined.

"Are you alright, my dear?" Ancel whispered as he kissed the top of her head.

"I am. I haven't been this content in years." Rebeccah whispered as she looked up at him. She looked into his grey eyes, caressing his cheek with her hand. "You look… so wildly arousing. It's… making me crazy."

"Oh, really?" he smirked.

"Yes. Take me again, Ancel. I'm yours." she whispered.

He ran his hand over the length of her body, travelling over her curves and found the spot between her thighs.

"Mmm. Ready for me, I see." Ancel growled.

"I am. Are you?" she whispered.

"I'm hard as a rock for you, beautiful. You sure?"

"Yes. Give it to me, Ancel. I've wanted you since you first kissed me." Rebeccah pleaded.

"How coincidental. Those were my thoughts exactly." he smirked.

He climbed on top of her, mounting her again as he gave her a deep kiss, their bodies moving in a dance. Afterward, he stayed with her awhile, then delivered a soft languid kiss before he took his leave of her.

In the Sheriff's chambers, things weren't nearly as peaceful overnight. Rhiannon had been up a few hours with the baby, holding him, walking the floors with him. She finally got him settled in the wee hours before dawn.

When the Sheriff awakened, he reached out to her and began kissing her. Soon, they were unclothed, and he was just about to take her, when the child awakened and began to cry.

"Curses!" the Sheriff sighed. "That doesn't sound good."

"Maybe he's hungry, my love? I'll see to him." Rhiannon said. She sat up and grabbed her dressing gown from a chair beside the bed. She quickly put it on and walked over to the cradle, tying the sash around her waist.

"Is this… normal? Something isn't right with him, my lady." the Sheriff asked.

"He is just a baby, George. Crying is what they do sometimes. I'm not sure, though. He had an awful time settling last night. I'll ask Lady Margaret about it." she said.

Rhiannon arrived to the cradle. She bent down and picked up the baby.

"Darling boy. What is the matter? There, there. Shush. Mother's here." she soothed.

The child continued to cry despite his mother's touch, and her soothing words.

She laid him back in the cradle to more closely assess for one possible problem she could think of.

"Well, that's odd. He's dry. He doesn't need changing." Rhiannon said. "I'm guessing he wants his milk." she said as she picked him back up.

"I don't think I've ever seen him in such a state?" the Sheriff said. He arose from the bed. He hastily put on his breeches and tunic, then his robe and boots.

"I must be doing something wrong." Rhiannon frowned.

"No, my lady. Don't think that. You're doing everything a mother should. I'll get the fire going. It's a little chill in here." he said as he walked toward the fireplace.

He soon had the fire started and Rhiannon heated the boy's goat's milk. Then, she put it in his cup, took him to a chair and attempted to give it to him, but the baby was still fussy and wouldn't take it.

"The poor wee thing, George. He's so upset! It's like he's in pain?" Rhiannon frowned as tears formed in her eyes. "Hush, my darling boy. It's alright." she whispered as she held him close to her and kissed the top of his head.

"Perhaps we'd better consult the midwife. She has much professional, as well as personal experience with matters of this nature." the Sheriff pointed out.

"Of course, my love." she nodded.

Before the Sheriff could get to the door to summon for her, there was a knock.

"Dear Zeus! I'll see what this is about, Rhiannon." he said.

He was relieved when he saw who it was.

"I just came back from checking on Lady Meridwyn. I was headed to my rooms, but I heard the wee laddie, Milord. Would you like some assistance?" Lady Margaret asked.

"Indeed. I was just about to summon for you. Come in. Rhiannon is walking with him in the bedchamber. It's warmer in there." he said, holding the door for her.

Within moments, they walked into the bedchamber. Lady Margaret went to Rhiannon swiftly.

"Thank goodness you're here. He had an awful night, Lady Margaret. Fussy off and on most of last night and into the wee hours, and now he's beside himself. He doesn't need changing, and he won't take his goat's milk." Rhiannon said.

"I think the laddie has an upset belly, Milady. That happens to some babies. Often they just need a good burping, but, occasionally, that's not enough. There's a couple of things I can think of that will help." Lady Margaret said.

"What is that?" the Sheriff asked.

"One is a medicament, which is entirely safe for him. A mixture of wormwood and mint to soothe his wee belly." Lady Margaret explained.

"Oh. Is that it, then? The couple of things you could think of?" Rhiannon asked.

"No. That is one solution. The other is even simpler than that." Lady Margaret hinted.

"Tell me. I hate to see him so distressed, Lady Margaret." Rhiannon implored her.

"The other plan involves a change to his feeds. Perhaps goat's milk isn't the best thing for him right now, exclusively? It was given to him in Nettlestone because there were no other options, but now, there's another option."

"Oh. You mean sugar water? I've heard of that." Rhiannon remarked.

"Sugar water has its place, but that won't sustain him. Not at all. Mother's milk will, though." Lady Margaret said with a knowing quirk of her brow.

"What? But, my breasts were bound for a time after my daughter was delivered. There couldn't possibly be anything to give to him." Rhiannon said, shaking her head in confusion.

"How long ago did you give birth, Milady?" Lady Margaret asked.

"A fortnight ago."

"It can be done. We can easily achieve this." Lady Margaret smiled.

"What? Really?"

"Indeed, Milady Rhiannon. Tell you what. You keep doing what you're doing, and I'm going to go down to see Mortianna. She most likely has some wormwood and mint on hand. That will save a lot of time, rather than me going into town to the apothecary. We'll get the wee lad sorted with that, and then we'll talk about the next steps for nursing him."

"Very well. Thank you, Lady Margaret." Rhiannon smiled.

"Do not fret, my dear. I'll be back directly." the midwife said. Then she went to the door that led down to Mortianna's apothecary and opened it.

"You sure you wish to do this, Rhiannon?" the Sheriff asked.

"Offer him my own milk to sustain him, the way it was meant to be? Of course I do, my love. It's been weighing on me that I couldn't do that for him when he needed it most. I was planning to put him to my breast when he was born, but I was so weakened I couldn't." Rhiannon explained.

"Alright, my lady." he smiled. Then, he frowned. "Hmm. I guess… sucking on those sweet nipples of yours while I'm taking you is going to be out for a time."

"They're going to be fuller and firmer, I imagine, lover. You'll like that part. As for the other, we'll make it work." Rhiannon smirked. Then, she looked to her boy and frowned. "There, there, sweet boy. Hush, darling. It will be alright." she whispered as she held him close to her, swaying her hips back and forth in a rocking motion.

It seemed like ages to them, but it was just over a quarter of an hour later when Lady Margaret came out through the door from Mortianna's lair into their den. She held a small flask in her hand and passed it to Rhiannon.

"Apologies. Mortianna needed to prepare the tincture. Here we have a wormwood and mint preparation for him. It shall be administered about a half hour before each feed. He may also have a drop or two in between feeds if no other measures are helping him, like burping him, or a change of his wee pants." Lady Margaret instructed.

"It wouldn't harm him if he takes too much in a day?" Rhiannon asked.

"Not if you follow my directions, Lady Rhiannon. Give two drops a half hour before each feed. He may have one to two drops in between feeds if he needs settling, including at bedtime." the midwife instructed.

"Very well. I guess I shall start with that now. He hasn't fed this morning yet." Rhiannon said.

Lady Margaret measured out two drops into the cap of the flask and passed the cap to Rhiannon.

"Here, sweet boy. It might not taste the best but it will help your wee belly, darling." Rhiannon said as she administered the drops to him.

"Perfect. He swallowed it. Now we wait a bit for that to start working while we talk about how to get you ready for feeding." Lady Margaret said.

Rhiannon took the baby with her as she seated herself in a chair. She held him to her, lightly stroking his back while she looked up to the midwife.

"If this can be done, it would be great. But, I'm not understanding how this will work?"

"It happens with wet nurses all of the time. They step in at some point after weaning their own infant, or, sometimes after a time following their own infant's death. It can be done, Milady. You recently lost a baby, but now you'll have an opportunity to nurse a child of yours you didn't know you had." Lady Margaret smiled.

"Good. How? Shall I put him to my breast when he settles from that concoction I just gave him?"

"I wouldn't completely discourage it, but until we do some work, there won't be much yet to give to him."

"What do you mean by work?" Rhiannon asked.

"Nothing that frequent applications of warm compresses, an increase in fluid intake, breast massage and nipple stimulation won't fix." Lady Margaret said, matter of factly.

The Sheriff's eyebrow shot north, suspiciously over that last part the midwife mentioned.

"Wait. What's this about… massage and… nipple stimulation?" Rhiannon asked. Her eyes were narrowed suspiciously, as she tilted her head slightly, wondering what the midwife was getting at.

"Just what it sounds like, Milady. As far as the stimulation part, you can achieve that with cold cloths, rubbing, squeezing, or… sucking."

"Oh. So, I should try to get my baby attached and suckling, then?" Rhiannon asked, still bewildered by the confusing information.

"Or, you could get your… husband to do that when the mood strikes."

"What in the devil? What is the meaning of this, Lady Margaret?" Nottingham demanded.

"When you're intimate, you do pay attention to those, do you not?"

"What my wife and I do in private stays between us!" he admonished.

"Of course, it does. But, if you wanted to help things along, you could follow those instructions. Massage, and stimulating her — "

"Alright. Whatever. We get it!" he huffed.

Rhiannon looked to the floor and softly chuckled, then quickly composed herself.

"There's just one thing about the milk, Lady Margaret." she said.

"What is that, Milady?"

"Isn't the milk that is produced for a newborn much different than if a mother has been nursing all along and is now feeding an older infant? It can't be the same. Is it?" Rhiannon asked, curiously.

"You're correct. The milk produced for a newborn is thinner in consistency at first, with more of a yellowish colour to it. As the child ages, so does the milk change." Lady Margaret explained.

"Then… how will my milk be any good for him? The milk I'll be bringing forth will be meant for Sela, my daughter, who would be two weeks old if she'd lived. My boy is half a year old. Will that even help him?" Rhiannon asked.

"Yes, because your body will adapt to suit him, Lady Rhiannon. I see this all of the time with wet nurses. It shall work."

"Oh, good! When shall I begin this warm compress thing, then?"

"I'd suggest after the wee lad's feed. After he's settled. He will most likely nap, because it sounds like he had a rough night. While he does that, you begin the warm compress applications. Apply them for twenty minutes, every two to three hours."

"Well, it sounds like you're set for a busy day, my lady." Nottingham sighed, shaking his head.

"Lady Meridwyn is doing remarkably well now. I can take the wee laddie whenever you wish." Lady Margaret said.

"I appreciate that. I'll take you up on that later tonight. For today, I want my son to get accustomed to me." Rhiannon said.

"Very well." the midwife nodded.

Rhiannon noticed a quietness settle over them. She looked to her baby and smiled.

"I think it's helped him, Lady Margaret. Shall I try him with the goat's milk, then?"

"Yes. Don't give it all to him. At the end, we're going to apply some of that to your nipple, then get him suckling that from you. We need to get him used to you and to your scent."

"Oh. Very well. If you think it will work." Rhiannon nodded, then she held the cup to the baby and he took some of the milk.

"This seems like an awful lot of steps, and a large load of codswallop just to get the boy accustomed to her, Lady Margaret." Nottingham sighed.

"It will take a little bit of work, but the reward shall be great." the midwife nodded.

"You sure you're up for all of this, my lady?" he asked.

"I am. I wish to offer what is best for him." Rhiannon nodded.

"Very well. I admire your determination with this. Right." he sighed. He went to her and leaned down, kissing her forehead. "I'll leave you to it, then. Got some people to meet downstairs."

He doffed his robe, exchanging it for his black suede doublet. He fastened the golden buttons on his way to the door.

In the Council Quarters, Nigel, Richard, Mordrid, and Luke were present, seated at the table waiting on the others to join them.

"How come you two are here?" Mordrid nodded to Richard and Nigel. "And, what's with that stupid grin spread across your face, Nigel?"

"We were asked to meet here, too, before we go to help train Alfred. And, I had a damn good night last night, Mordrid. Gave me a perfect sleep." Nigel said.

"Hear that, Luke? Your singing last night helped him sleep." Mordrid chuckled.

"Glad I could be of service to someone." Luke shrugged.

"Nice try, Mordrid." Nigel scoffed.

"So, I take it the ride was helpful, then? Let me guess. You took a detour to the brothel. Was it Gelldred, Aelina, or Sophronia who helped with that, mate?" Richard asked with a knowing look.

"None of them. Ran into my lady." Nigel smirked.

"Aeleanna? You haven't spoken of her in months." Richard pointed out.

"Yes, because there was no point to it. Had no chance to say goodbye to her. No point talking about her when all that would do is get me frustrated."

"You do have a point there." Mordrid sighed.

"I figured she would be either ready to kill me, or could have easily gotten herself married, or worse — pregnant — in all that time. But, Leanna was none of those. She waited for me. Fuck, that girl is good!" Nigel grinned.

"That's good to hear, mate." Richard nodded.

"Maybe you should marry her?" Luke suggested.

"Leanna and I have a lot of good times together, because nothing is scheduled, or planned. No day to day ho hum boringness for us. That's what makes it perfect, kid. From what I see of married people, it bores me nearly to death. She's a great woman. Beautiful, smart, loads of fun, adventurous, and an outstanding fuck, but… hmm. I don't know about marriage. Jesus." Nigel grimaced.

"It's really not… that bad, Nigel." Mordrid said, then sipped of some water from his goblet.

"Really, mate? When was the last time you fucked Demetria? There's another stunning looking woman. That poor lady is going to grow cobwebs down there, unless… she got tired of waiting for you?" Nigel said with a knowing quirk of his brow.

"Mmm. Yeah. It's… been a time. You're right. I need to pay a visit to her before she forgets me." Mordrid sighed.

"See what I mean, kid?" Nigel said to Luke, while nodding to Mordrid. "Married people. Exhibit A, right there. The bloke's afraid his wife will forget him." he sighed, shaking his head. Then, he addressed Mordrid. "You better take some flowers, or something else extra special when you finally get around to it. She might think you're dead, mate. Leanna thought I was dead. Made her miss me even more. If that's the case, you better get ready. You might not be able to walk right when you finish with her." Nigel chuckled.

"Point taken." Mordrid grinned.

At this point Ancel, Nichol, Gerad and Castor entered the room. Nichol had dark circles under his eyes and yawned as he made his way to the table.

"Oh, good. You two are here." Nichol said to Nigel and Richard. "Hopefully, the fresh air will do me some good. Don't think water is going to cut it." he took a seat and leaned his walking stick against the wall behind him.

"What happened to you, Nic?" Mordrid asked.

"Couldn't get a bleeding wink of sleep. Kept tossing and turning." Nichol huffed, as he poured some water from the pitcher into a goblet. He took it and began to drink from it.

Nichol was frustrated. All he could think of all night was Kaeliss.

Ancel smirked, unable to hide the satisfied grin upon his face.

"And, what are you grinning about?" Nigel asked.

"It's nothing. Just… in a good mood, I guess." Ancel nodded with a shrug.

All Ancel could think of was the momentous night he shared with Rebeccah. How open, sensual, and giving she was to him. He sighed. He couldn't wait to take her again.

"Hmm. From the look of a few of ye, I'd say ye have women on your minds." Castor said.

"Indeed." Luke nodded.

"Fuck, I need to get laid." Gerad sighed.

"Tell me about it." Mordrid muttered.

"For fuck's sake, Mordrid. Just go to her and give it to her. Don't let that lovely woman rot. If she's not getting it from someone else, she's essentially rotting, waiting for you. Just go fuck her, mate!" Nigel goaded him.

"He's right. Life is short, Mordrid." Gerad agreed.

"Indeed. I will." Mordrid said.

At this point, the door opened and the Sheriff and Gisborne entered the meeting chamber. They strode to the table and took their seats.

"Satan's teeth, Nic! The hell happened to you?" the Sheriff asked.

"Nothing, really. Couldn't sleep. You're not exactly looking bright eyed, either. Busy night?" Nichol chuckled.

"I didn't sleep, either. But, not for the reason I know you're thinking." a beat. "I wish!" he muttered.

He was still frustrated that an intimate moment with his wife was rudely interrupted earlier, even though he was concerned about his son. He poured a measure of water into a goblet and took a sip before he continued.

"I hope all is well, mate?" Nichol asked.

"It will be, Nic. Everything's fine. Just a little kink my wife and I need to straighten out." the Sheriff nodded. "Alright, men. It looks like we better start with the training team. Nichol looks like he could use some fresh air, and perhaps a strong pot of tea."

"You got that right." Nichol sighed.

"Richard and Nigel, it appears you kept up with your training in the time you were away." he said.

"Indeed. We did, Milord. It was hard to keep up with him, though. He was at it every chance he got." Richard said, nodding to Nigel.

"Why am I not surprised?" Guy chuckled.

"Got to stay in top form, mate." Nigel smirked at Richard.

"Of course, you wouldn't be surprised, Gis. One look at him says it all." Nottingham scoffed.

"Indeed." Nichol agreed.

"Hmm. How does that explain the hair, though?" Mordrid chuckled.

"Had to look my best for my lady." Nigel smirked.

"Hmm. A lady, is it, Nigel? Try to keep those breeches of yours fastened as much as possible. Posing as Lancelot won't do you any good around here." the Sheriff said, firmly.

"Of course, Milord. She knows this, too." Nigel said.

"They've been together off and on for years, Milord." Richard added.

"Damn straight. She understands. That's why we work." Nigel said with a knowing quirk of his brow.

"How long?" Guy asked.

"Hmm. Not sure? Five years. Maybe six?" Nigel shrugged.

"Damn! That's longer than Meridwyn and I courted." Guy muttered.

"Good. The rest of you be sure and take some mental notes from him. This is how you handle juggling your role as a Black Knight, and getting your jollies when the mood hits. Last thing we need are distractions." the Sheriff sternly advised.

"Understood, Milord." Luke nodded.

"I know you do, lad. You're the least of my concerns when it comes to the issue of my men and their wandering cock problems." he sighed.

"What? Why is that, Milord?" Nigel asked, suspiciously. Then, he looked to Luke. "What is it, kid? You like blokes, or something?"

"For fuck's sake, Nigel." Mordrid sighed.

"Don't you recall the song about Emma, the maiden he planned to marry before she died?" Richard reminded him.

"Ah, yes. The Ode to Emma tune. Maybe his door swings both ways, mate?" Nigel shrugged.

Luke sighed while he folded his arms. He kept his gaze on Nigel.

"Emma?" Gerad asked.

"Indeed. She died, too?" Castor shrugged.

"What do you mean… too?" Nigel asked.

"Maybe I'm just better at controlling myself." Luke muttered.

"Aaaand, there it is! There's the little brown-nosed goody two boots I started out distrusting." Nigel snorted.

"Nigel!" Richard admonished.

"Satan's teeth!" Nottingham muttered.

"You think I don't have a nice maiden in my life? I do. We're just… not where you and your Lady Aeleanna are at… yet." Luke sighed, then sipped water from his goblet.

"No kidding, kid. So, are you trying to tell us you haven't taken her maidenhead yet? Ha! Classic!" Nigel chortled, then looked to his mate. "Do you hear this pious load of bollocks from the kid, Richard? Astonishing!"

"Nigel, do try to stay focused. We're not here to discuss the secret intimate lives of everyone gathered at this table." Nottingham reminded him.

"That's good, because if I shared what my Leanna can do for me, it would curl the eyebrow hair of everyone present." Nigel grinned.

"Wanna bet?" Nichol challenged.

"Indeed." Ancel nodded, agreeing with Nichol.

"Christ, I need Demetria." Mordrid muttered, then took a sip of his water. Afterward, he tugged at his collar and held the cool metal of the goblet to his cheeks for a brief few moments.

"Why me?" Nottingham muttered softly, shaking his head.

"Look what all work and no play has done to him." Nigel pointed out, nodding to Mordrid. Then, he addressed Mordrid. "Pathetic, man. You need to get your arse over there and show her you still got it, before your head explodes. Just… don't forget to take a small broom with you to dust the cobwebs from her — "

"Alright, men. Moving on!" Nottingham said sharply, rolling his eyes.

Between yesterday's graphic chat with Nichol regarding Lady Kaeliss; the interruption this morning during a crucial moment of intimacy; and the surprising points being raised so far at this meeting; it was taking all of his restraint not to run up the stairs into his rooms, rip those hot compresses from his wife's breasts, and give it to her until she could barely walk. Nottingham exhaled sharply and took a generous swill of water.

"Let's talk about what you men are going to do with Albert today. I want him ready for tonight." the Sheriff said, firmly.

"What are we doing, Nic? Specifically?" Nigel asked.

"Well, we know that he has the crossbow down to a fine bleeding art. I need to know how he handles a longbow, and, even more importantly, a sword." Nichol said. "Who wants to train him with a sword?"

"Don't know if he's ready for Nigel's moves, Nic. In fact… can't believe I'm saying this, but… I'm actually not sure any of us are, to be frank about it." Richard said.

"Cheers, mate." Nigel nodded.

"What?" the Sheriff asked.

"You didn't see him in Ne — where we were, Milord. The bloke was balancing on tall poles made from cut down trees, swinging that sword about, jumping from pole to pole, never missing a step, or a beat, or letting go of the bleeding hilt. I mean… who does that?" Richard asked, incredulously.

"Hmm. I used to be able to do things like that… years ago. I'd like to see this." Nichol grinned.

"Agility and balance are key. You all should know this already." Nigel sighed.

"What's this about poles in m — the yard?" Guy asked suspiciously, nearly letting it slip he was talking about his own yard.

"Indeed, Gis." the Sheriff nodded, suddenly recalling Richard mentioning something about this when he visited the day before his nuptials.

"He's… got a whole sodding obstacle course happening over there, Sir Guy, to be frank about it. He kept trying to get me to join in, but — " Richard was cut off.

"Ha! You're such a chicken, Richard. You only used it maybe thrice. No wonder you're looking a bit scrawny. You're actually starting to resemble a chicken! Damn. Man up, mate!" Nigel scoffed.

"An obstacle course, huh?" Mordrid asked, curiously. "A little obsessed, are we… Nigel?"

"Ha! You might call it obsession, mate. I call it standard procedure. How can you expect to fight effectively, run if needs be, climb, or jump, or any of that when you don't use your muscles? We gotta be more than just skilled with firing off a few arrows or bolts, or being lucky with our blades." Nigel said.

"He's got a point, Mordrid. And, the proof is right there in the pudding. Your question was redundant, because… I mean, look at him." Nottingham said.

"Oh, I'm looking, alright." Mordrid said. He looked to Nigel and scoffed. "Nice hair, by the way."

"Whatever, mate. Leanna commented on that the most. Said it was pretty. Coming from her, I took that as a compliment." Nigel nodded.

"Ha, ha! Sure." Mordrid smirked.

"Wait. What the hell am I to do about — what are we going to do about the poles in the yard, Cousin?" Guy asked.

"Called it!" Richard whispered to Nigel.

"How do you know it's a place with a yard, Gis? I mean… " Nottingham shrugged.

"Right. Could be anywhere." Guy muttered.

"Sure." Nigel scoffed.

Gerad and Castor regarded each other curiously, with their eyebrows raised, while side eyeing the Sheriff, Gisborne, and Nigel. Both had the same thought: the three of them seemed to be speaking in code.

"I don't know, Gis. But, we're going to take a look at these alleged poles and the obstacle course and possibly transport them to our training area. Ease up, Cousin." the Sheriff said, firmly.

Guy nodded. He looked down and sighed.

"If it's any good, you shall assist Nichol with training the men to use it." Nottingham said to Nigel.

"Of course, Milord." Nigel nodded.

"That's… going to take a lot of manpower." Richard sighed.

"What is, Richard?" the Sheriff asked.

"Nigel's… obstacle course. It's… insane, Milord, to be honest." Richard said.

"What?" Guy exclaimed.

"Really? Who built the damn thing? And, how much money do I owe them?" Nottingham demanded.

"It cost nothing… only time, which there was enough of." Nigel said.

"What manner of riddle is that? Get to the point." the Sheriff sighed.

"Nigel built it himself, Milord. That was almost training for it right there. He was chopping and hauling wood, digging holes to place the poles, carrying bleeding big rocks. I'm telling you: that's why it's insane. The thought and work that went into it, besides how proficient he is with using it." Richard explained.

"Interesting." the Sheriff grinned.

"God's nightgown!" Guy muttered.

"Right. Well, thanks for that information, Richard. That shall prove to be quite productive, indeed." he nodded.

"Of course, Milord." Richard said.

"So, you have a plan for Albert, Nic?" he asked.

"First thing we're doing is assessing his skill level with other weapons, then we'll work on refining his movement and technique. He still might not be up to par with the others by the time you go into town tonight, Milord. Just saying." Nichol warned.

"Just do what you can. He's going to be using a crossbow tonight, and he won't need to get up close and personal to fire a good shot. Your job is to explain the difference between moving, breathing targets and the ones he's been playing at with his cousin." Nottingham instructed.

"Of course." Nichol nodded.

"Good. We have that matter sorted. Moving on to the Jesus blokes' meeting place, and the team covering that today." the Sheriff began. "I'm glad to see you're not in uniform. Should you be seen by the three you met, they can think you're the alternate personalities they met last night." he smirked.

"Indeed, Milord. We thought it was best." Luke said.

"Milord, I've been thinking… is it wise for Luke and I to be there, in case the blokes with the boring names we met last night are also there? They'd be bound to recognize us? Isn't it best we're not spotted, snooping around?" Ancel pointed out.

"At our meeting at dusk yesterday, didn't I say I want my top Investigators on this? You two are among the top men. There's always a reason behind every move I make. There's a reason all five of you were chosen to take care of this. Understood?"

"Yes, Milord." Ancel nodded.

"Damn, man. If you can't stand the heat, get out of the kitchen." Nigel muttered.

"Nigel!" Richard sighed.

"The hell is that supposed to mean?" Ancel asked, firmly.

"Simple. If you can't take the pressure of being at the top of the ranks, maybe step aside and give one of the rest of us a go." Nigel said.

"There he is -- the bloke I met on Sunday." Luke sighed.

"I can handle it." Ancel said.

"So, where, precisely, are we going, Milord?" Mordrid asked.

"It's a few miles north of that church, on the way to Sherwood. An abandoned warehouse." Nottingham said.

"Very well." Mordrid nodded.

"Anything specific you're looking for from the meeting place, Milord?" Luke asked.

"Anything documented, or just generally suspicious. If it's copies of the documents we already have, leave them. You men will know it if you see it."

"Understood, Milord." Luke said.

The rest of the men assigned to the warehouse search mission agreed.

"Good. Anyone have anything to add?" the Sheriff asked around the table.

"Just… one thing, Milord. It's not related to any of this, but I must mention it before I forget." Luke said.

"This should be good." Nigel scoffed.

"Very well. What is it, Luke?" he asked.

"A request for Sir Guy." Luke said, then he looked to Gisborne.

Guy looked at him with his eyebrow raised, slowly shaking his head.

"I need bits of information about your Lady Meridwyn, Sir Guy." Luke began.

"What? Why?" Gisborne asked, suspiciously.

"It's for her upcoming birthday celebration. I thought I would… compose a song about her for it — since I was asked… hmm. Actually, ordered to perform for it." Luke smirked.

"Ooh! That sounds intriguing." Nottingham grinned.

"Yes. Doesn't it?" Nichol chuckled.

"I see. What… kind of information are you looking for?" Guy asked.

"Just basic things. Character traits, likes and dislikes, where she hails from. Anything you can think of to highlight her qualities, or your courtship with her. I thought it might be… a nice touch. Just a simple gesture to make her celebration special." Luke explained.

"Oh. Alright." Guy nodded. "Now?"

"That doesn't sound at all creepy that you want to know all of that information, kid. No. Not at all." Nigel scoffed, facetiously.

"Normally, I'd agree. But, this is for artistic purposes." Luke replied to Nigel. Then, he addressed the Lieutenant.

"No. We can either hash it out together at a later time, or, if it's easier, you could just jot it all down for me, Sir Guy." Luke suggested.

"Very well. How long does it take you to compose a song, Luke?" Guy asked.

"It's variable. When something comes to me I can write a song in a few minutes. Sometimes it will present in a dream, and I jot it down quickly upon awakening, so I won't forget. You know how dreams are. Fleeting. Or, sometimes it can take days, or weeks, and I'm not being funny about it." Luke shrugged.

"Ah! The life of a creator." Mordrid chuckled.

"Indeed. Good thing his work around here doesn't require much contemplation." Nigel scoffed.

"Perhaps not, Nigel, but being able to think critically is rather important. Fools would never do well in the Black Knight role." the Sheriff said.

"Very well. I'll give some thought to this, and perhaps we could meet later, Luke?" Guy suggested.

"Perfect." Luke nodded.

"All these comments about how great Luke was last night, and now this. I need to hear him perform." Gerad grinned.

"Tell me about it, mate! Sounds like it was a sight to behold last night." Castor agreed.

"Well, you just might get your wish tonight. He'll be taking his queer looking lute with him — " Nottingham began, but was interrupted.

"It's a gittern." Luke corrected him.

"Right." the Sheriff nodded, then looked back over to Gerad and Castor. "Anyway, he's taking that with him, and as long as hell isn't breaking loose when he's playing, you'll get your chance tonight." he said.

"Oh, good!" Gerad smiled.

"Sweet!" Castor agreed.

"Good. We're done here, men. Go. Get it done." he instructed them.

After the men left, the Sheriff and Guy stayed in their seats to discuss a few personal matters.

"You… haven't asked about Meridwyn." Guy said.

"Didn't need to, Gis. First of all, you were present at our meeting. We walked together to the meeting, if you recall. If there was a problem, you wouldn't have left her." the Sheriff pointed out.

"Right. That's true."

"And, I knew before I saw you in the corridor upstairs. The midwife commented that your wife is doing remarkably well. Her words, verbatim."

"Oh. You saw her today? Already?" Guy asked.

"Yes. She heard our boy wailing and responded. Thank Zeus!" he sighed.

"Is he alright, George?" Guy asked.

"He was settled when I left. Lady Margaret has come up with a new feeding plan and recommended a medicament to soothe him." a beat. "You best get prepared, Gis. They're not cutesy little dolls. And, their wailing can interrupt… everything." he said with a knowing quirk of his brow.

"Ah. So, that's why you didn't sleep last night."

"Very perceptive, Gis. It sure as hell wasn't because I was fucking my wife all night." he sighed.

"That's too bad, Cousin."

"You're damn right, it is! Thank Zeus, Lady Margaret is taking him tonight. I'll have to work it in before my wife collapses of exhaustion, though. She spent most of the night walking the floors with him." he said.

"You sure the lad is alright?" Guy asked.

"Yes. Lady Margaret assures us that this happens with some infants. She has it all sorted." a beat. "Sort of." he exhaled sharply.

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

"Right. So, since Meridwyn is doing better, I say we head into Nettlestone."

"I am curious to see the poles and whatever this obstacle course thing is — in my bleeding yard, Cousin! God's nightgown!" Guy muttered.

"Precisely. Let's get a good look at it, and we can decide whether it will work in our training area, and, if so, how we can transport it efficiently. I got the impression the poles are a part of the obstacle course, though." the Sheriff suggested.

"Very well. I can only imagine how bad it looks over there. A sodding obstacle course — in my fucking yard, Cousin!" Guy huffed, then he took a sip of water from his goblet.

"Relax, Gis. I didn't see any of this when approaching your manor from the front. I've never seen it. There's a hundred acres of property in back of it. It's more than likely behind the manor. It would have to be! They knew to be on the lookout for potato bloke, who could very easily have wandered over there. Nigel is headstrong, but he's astute. There's no way he would have built that damn thing, putting it on show for all to see. That would have put a target on the place." Nottingham pointed out.

"Is that true? You've never seen it? You were there fairly frequently, weren't you?"

"Not as frequently as I would have liked, but… yes. I was only just there on Saturday night. I was also there in the full light of day last Monday. I didn't see it. I've never seen it."

"Alright. Good. Yes, I'm curious to see this thing, and figure out what will need to be done to the property after it's taken down. I'll need to get the holes in the ground filled in and levelled where he somehow placed the sodding poles. I can't have wee Evie running around back there, tripping over them and injuring herself!"

"Satan's teeth, Gis! You're a long way off from worrying about that. The child won't be here for months yet, and then, you're looking at a couple of years before the child will be able to run." the Sheriff sighed.

"Of course. And, from the sounds of it, it might take until then to fix my bleeding yard!" Guy huffed.

"Ease up, Gis. We'll handle it." the Sheriff said, firmly. There was a pause before he continued. "I will be stopping somewhere briefly before we head to your manor, by the way."

"Where are we going?" Guy asked.

"Take a wild guess, Gis. We're going to see Gilda. What the hell good is it to have her working as a spy, when people are going to figure it out that she's a spy? Curses!"

"I'm sure the lady had a plan."

"And, I need to know what that is, before she blows up the entire operation! Right now, go see to your wife. I'm going to check on the absolute load of bollocks that's currently taking place in my chambers. Then, we leave." Nottingham said.

"Load of bollocks? Thought the wee lad wasn't quite right? I'm sure it's not his fault, Cousin." Guy pointed out.

"Of course, it isn't. It's no one's fault. But, the feeding plan thing sounds like it's going to be far too involved just to sustain him and soothe his belly. Not sure who to feel worse for. My son? Or, my wife?" he sighed.

"It can't be all that difficult, George? Why are you making it sound challenging just to feed an infant? I think… I must be missing something." Guy said, shaking his head.

"Lady Margaret! She's playing on Rhiannon's regret and misplaced guilt over the inability to nurse our son for the last six months. She's got my wife believing it can still be done! Have you ever conceived of such lunacy? And, you wouldn't believe how many steps, and how much work will be involved to get that going. Unbelievable!"

"Oh, my! Is that… even possible?" Guy asked, incredulously.

"Lady Margaret says it can be easily achieved. Easily achieved, my left bollock! She's got Rhiannon filled with hope, and determination. But, after she described what this will entail, all I could do was shake my head, Gis. The boy is eating puréed sweet potatoes, carrots, peas, and some weird mushy cereal mixture, for the love of Zeus. Basically, anything that can be mashed or puréed — he's inhaling it." he said dryly, with a knowing quirk of his brow. "He's not going to care about milk from Rhiannon! Doesn't take a genius to work that out. I'm foreseeing a lot of frustrated tears on Rhiannon's part." Nottingham sighed.

"Damn! Is it going to be like this with Meridwyn? I haven't even asked her yet if she wishes to nurse our baby. Guess I had better do that." Guy mused.

"I don't think it will be an issue for your wife as much as mine, from the bits of information the midwife shared. The issue with Rhiannon is trying to encourage milk to come when everything was done to stop that after Sela was delivered. But, the midwife says it can be done — with a little work." he said with a knowing quirk of his brow.

"Hmm. You're right, Cousin. I don't even know the steps involved, but it does seem like a lot of bother." Guy frowned.

"You don't know the half of it, Gis. Satan's teeth!" Nottingham spat. "I've a mind to have a stern word with the midwife about it. The way she's playing on Rhiannon's emotions when she's endured enough already makes my blood boil."

"See how Lady Rhiannon is faring with whatever these steps are before you do that, Cousin. I'm just saying: give it a chance."

"Why? You haven't seen what these wee babes can do to disrupt lives yet, Gis!"

"Trial and error, Cousin. You won't know if it's not best for either of them if you don't let her try."

"Again. Why?"

"Because, I think that nursing thing is important to most mothers, whether lowborn, or noblewomen." Guy shrugged.

"Hmm. We shall see." the Sheriff said, flatly.

The two arose from their seats and walked together, exiting the meeting chamber. Their confident strides along the marble tiles created a rhythmic tapping of their shiny boots as they headed to the staircase.

Meridwyn was sitting against pillows on top of her bed, watching Rhiannon fidget in her chair. Her friend had just arrived while Meridwyn was busily engaged in knitting a new project: a lovely deep navy blue soft blanket featuring a cable stitch done in white wool around the perimeter. She reached over to the table beside her and grabbed her goblet of wine. It was time for her dose, and she was actually glad of it, because Rhiannon was making her nervous. She sipped of it and looked to her sister in law, curiously.

"You got an hourglass around here?" Rhiannon asked.

"Of course. I use it when I'm putting the oil treatment on my hair before I wash it out. It's in the bath chamber, I believe." Meridwyn said. She shook her head slowly as she observed Rhiannon head in there to retrieve it.

Meridwyn sighed then went back to her knitting. Rhiannon was quick to return. She turned the hourglass upside down, setting it on a table. She sighed, then took a seat on the chair.

"That is darling, Meridwyn." Rhiannon said, nodding to the blanket Meridwyn was working on. There was only about six inches of it done, by a little over three feet wide, but Rhiannon could tell it was a blanket. "What happened to the other one you were working on?"

"Finished it. Completed the booties, too. I've been so bleeding bored. So, instead, I've made the boredom productive. It also helps to distract me from thinking of food. Which is good, because I'm stout." Meridwyn said with a knowing quirk of her brow, as she busily knit, while maintaining eye contact with her friend.

"You're not stout." a beat. "How can you do that without looking?" Rhiannon asked curiously, nodding to the wooden knitting needles.

"Practice, I guess." Meridwyn shrugged.

"It's beautiful, but… why is it blue? Don't get me wrong, it's the perfect shade of blue, in my opinion, but… thought you two were convinced your child is a girl?"

"Oh, that. Well, it's not for Evie. It's for my nephew. If I'd known I had one I would have started with this to begin with, since he is here first." Meridwyn smiled, still busily working her hands.

"Oh, Meridwyn! It's absolutely beautiful! I can't wait to see it when it's complete." Rhiannon exclaimed.

"Good. At this rate, you won't be waiting long." a beat. "Alright. Enough with the extraneous, unimportant questions. I've a couple for you. One: what in God's bleeding hell is up with you and the hourglass? That's the reason I picked up my knitting needles, incidentally. You were making me nervous!" Meridwyn sighed.

"What's the other question?" Rhiannon asked.

"Where's my nephew, Rhi? I thought you were bringing him?"

"The hourglass is giving me my cue to leave. I need to get back there to start the… warm compress thing, and… a couple of other… things." Rhiannon said, evasively.

"Wait. What?" a beat. "Are you festering where that bleeding consort kicked you, Rhi? A curse on that bitch's soul!"

"No. No, nothing like that. The warm compresses are being applied to… my breasts." Rhiannon sighed.

Meridwyn narrowed her bright blue eyes, shaking her head in confusion.

"It's so that I can nurse Ed — my sweet boy." Rhiannon said.

"Is that possible, when everything was done to stop your milk from flowing when Sela was birthed from you?"

"Lady Margaret says it is. Says it can be easily achieved, but it takes a bit of work." Rhiannon smiled.

"Oh, how lovely, Rhiannon! That will be marvellous if she can make this work for you." Meridwyn smiled.

"I know! I had him to my breast earlier. There was nothing for him, of course, but goat's milk was applied, then more of it administered with a dropper. Lady Margaret says that will help encourage the milk to come back if we keep doing that. Him suckling does something to help it along, apparently."

"I see. And, how was it?"

"It felt… beautiful and natural." Rhiannon smiled.

"Amazing. I'm delighted for you, Rhi! Good for you!" Meridwyn exclaimed. She paused her knitting to sip more of her wine. "Now, what of my nephew? Where is he?"

"Lady Margaret is watching him for now. He's resting. He had an awful time last night. This is how the change to his feeds came up." Rhiannon explained.

"I see. That makes sense. Well, if he's feeling better later, do bring him by, Rhiannon."

"I will."

"Oh, good. I see we have time on that hourglass. Would you mind asking the sentry to send for some scrambled eggs? Lady Margaret says that's the extent of solid food I'm permitted for today. Guess that's better than a day of boring broth." Meridwyn sighed.

"Of course, Meridwyn. I'll be right back." Rhiannon said as she stood from her chair.

"Alright. Here's my stop." Guy said to his cousin, nodding to his door. "I'm sure this won't take long."

"That's fine. I'll see what's going on in my chambers, then I'll meet you — "

Just then, the door opened. Rhiannon stepped outside of it. She told the sentry of Meridwyn's request. He nodded, then took leave to find a servant to get word to the kitchen.

"Normally, I would guess you'd be here, except… not today, my lady." the Sheriff said, while eyeing her, curiously.

"I'm on a schedule. I'm using Meridwyn's hourglass." Rhiannon said.

"Of course, you are." he sighed. He was hoping by now she'd given up on the midwife's idea, but it would seem she had not.

"Is she alright in there, Lady Rhiannon?" Guy asked.

"She's doing just fine. She's knitting a beautiful blanket for our boy, and she's hungry for scrambled eggs. Lady Margaret informed her that was the only solid food she could have today." Rhiannon explained.

"Very good." Guy smiled. He opened the door and nodded for them to follow him inside.

The Sheriff and Lady Rhiannon waited in the den, while Guy went into the bedchamber to see to his wife.

Nottingham walked over to his wife and stood before her, gently placing his hands upon her shoulders.

"You're going to run yourself ragged with all of this nonsense the midwife has you doing, Rhiannon. What's happening when the hourglass is up? Is that the next feeding time, or something?" the Sheriff whispered.

"That's when I need to start on the warm compresses, massage, and some type of… stimulation." she said, softly.

"Dear Zeus, Rhiannon! Does this not seem odd to you that you need to perform all of these bleeding steps? Things happened beyond our control to prevent you nursing our son right away. It's not a failure, my lady."

"Perhaps, but if it can work I must try." Rhiannon whispered.

"You already look like you're about to fall over. You'll never get a moment's peace. Satan's teeth! He's already eating puréed vegetables, mashed up bananas, and that vile looking cereal mixture! He couldn't give two flying figs at this point about something simple like… that." the Sheriff said, firmly.

"George, we finally had our moment earlier, and it was perfect. Well… except for my supply being nonexistent at the moment, but it was lovely. I was at peace, and he was content. I have to keep going with this." Rhiannon said, softly.

"You're determined, I see." he sighed.

"I thought you'd approve of this?" she asked.

"My concern is with the probability of the… milk not coming back. You're going to be even more disappointed, and beyond exhausted, my dear. I don't want this for you. You've endured enough already." he whispered.

"Let me try this, sugar. I need to know I can do it. I won't know if I don't at least try." Rhiannon said.

"If that is your wish… very well. I'm more than skeptical it will work, but, fine." he sighed. "But… we've some unfinished business to attend to tonight. Especially, since the midwife will be minding him." he whispered with his eyebrow quirked, knowingly.

"Mmm. Yes, I'd forgotten about that." Rhiannon smirked.

"You forgot?" he asked, incredulously. "You forgot that I'd just touched you with it, and was just about to enter you?"

"A lot has happened since then, my love."

"Hmm. Yes. It would seem. Well, do you think you can slot me in somehow between all of those cursed steps you need to complete?" the Sheriff huffed.

"Of course, sugar. You can take care of the massage and stimulation part for me, too." she smirked.

"So much for spontaneity." he sighed.

"For crying out loud, George! It's not a competition between you and our son. He's only a wee baby." Rhiannon reminded him.

"He won't even be there, wife. What are you going on about? I'm talking about you scheduling me in for what's looking like a brief and basic fuck — between compresses on your breasts, and all of the other fondling requirements before we even get to sodding penetration!" the Sheriff exclaimed in hushed tones, rolling his eyes.

"Ahh. So, that's why you don't want me to do this. It will put a damper on our intimate moments. Of course, that would be your chief concern." Rhiannon sighed, and pulled herself away from his grasp.

"Angel, I told you what my concern is. If this doesn't work, you're going to be most upset, and ten times more exhausted than you already are. I'm not concerned about us in that way. We always make it work. You know this!" he exclaimed in a whisper. Then, he sighed as he moved in closer to her. He leaned in and whispered in her ear. "It's you I'm concerned about. Our son is going to be just fine. He damn near eats everything in sight." he softly sighed, then he moved in front of her. "You're a strong lady, but you can only take so much. Think about what you're doing."

"Really, George?" she whispered.

"Yes, my angel." Nottingham said softly, as he looked into her eyes. "Just give it a bit more thought before you get too involved in all of this pure bloody bollocks. You can enjoy your time with him in many other ways."

"This is what mothers are made for. One of the things, anyway. If I can make this work, I will feel complete." Rhiannon said, softly.

"Alright. Then, think about it when you go back to put those cloths on those fine breasts of yours, at least."

"Very well, but there's something I think you should know. I think it will help you to know." Rhiannon hinted.

"What is it?"

"If you're worried about… tasting it, don't. You won't. I asked Lady Margaret. You'd need to suck on them for quite a time at this stage of it to make that happen. There's no danger you're going to get a mouthful of anything… later." she whispered.

"That's… very good to know, wife." he smirked, salaciously.

"Alright. I'm ready if you are, Cousin." Guy said as he stepped out of the bedchamber. He grabbed his surcoat and turned back to address Rhiannon. "It doesn't look as if there's much time left on the hourglass. Maybe a quarter of an hour."

"Very well, Sir Guy. I'll go back and see her." Rhiannon nodded.

The Sheriff kissed her cheek before she took leave of them, then the men left Gisborne's chambers.

The team sent to search the abandoned warehouse were on the main road heading toward Sherwood, when they finally spotted it about a quarter of a mile ahead.

"There it is, men. Just up ahead on the west side of the road." Mordrid said, pointing to it.

"Hope ye brought your spyglass for when we get closer, mate." Castor said.

"When have I have ever disappointed?" Mordrid smirked. He pulled the spyglass from the pocket of his surcoat to show to him.

"Good. Because, we need to know if any of those blokes are there before we approach it." Luke said.

"Indeed." Ancel agreed.

"Ye never did tell us, mate. How did it go with Fladius?" Castor asked Mordrid.

"He was glad of the warning. He's going to stay at his son's home until we advise him otherwise, but, this has spooked the old fellow. Says he's thinking seriously of giving up those quarters at that church, and buying a home and property of his own. I think he's done with that Priest, too." Mordrid nodded.

"Good for him. He seems too kindly to be even remotely associated with that lot — the odd priest and his followers." Luke said.

"Aye. I'm glad the Sheriff gave him that horse, too." Castor added.

"We best get going." Gerad suggested.

"Indeed. Let's pick up the pace, men." Mordrid instructed them.

The men kicked their horses into motion and headed closer toward the building.

A short time later, they were crouched down, concealed within trees and brush at the edge of the property. Their horses were already secured further into the trees, south of the property. Mordrid held the spyglass to his eye and observed. Within a few moments, he frowned.

"Curses!" Mordrid muttered.

"What is it?" Luke whispered.

"We're not alone." Mordrid sighed, lowering the spyglass.

"How many?" Ancel asked.

"I counted four so far. You want to have a look to see if you recognize any of them?" Mordrid asked, passing the spyglass to Ancel.

Ancel nodded and took it from him. He held it to his eye and got a good look.

"Well, we're fucked." Ancel sighed. "At least, for now."

"What is it?" Gerad whispered, urgently.

"Let me guess. You know one or more of them from the tavern last night, right?" Luke asked.

"Yep. I see Artorus, the tall bloke that approached us. And, the sour ginger one… Stan. Damn it! There's two others with them I don't recognize. I… can't figure out what they're doing? One bloke is passing things to that Stan Cross bloke." Ancel said. Then, he moved the spyglass from his eye. "I don't know. Maybe I need a better angle?" he shrugged.

"May I?" Gerad asked.

Ancel nodded and passed the spyglass to him. Gerad moved away from the men, walking closer to the edge of the tree line. He pushed his raven black hair from his face, then held it to his eye, observing the scene ahead. After a few moments, he lowered the spyglass and walked back to the men.

"I could be wrong, but it looked like one guy was passing papers and crossbows to the ginger bloke. Then, the ginger bloke took them into the building." Gerad said.

"What?" Mordrid whispered.

"They're preparing for tonight, I reckon." Ancel said.

"Seriously?" Luke asked.

"Yes. I think this is precisely where Art, Bert, and Stan will be bringing us." Ancel said.

"This has turned into a whole load of unnecessary bollocks, and I'm not being funny about it." Luke sighed.

"We just need to be at ease, and wait." Ancel said.

"He's right. Don't lose your composure, Luke." Mordrid warned.

"What if they don't leave?" Luke asked.

"Then, we'll have to wait for tonight. All we can do is watch, and wait." Mordrid instructed.

"And, if they don't leave we'll know this is where the hive is. Although, it seems this is the hub, anyway." Gerad added. He passed the spyglass back to Mordrid.

"Indeed." Ancel nodded.

"Well, looks like we're going to be here awhile. Who brought snacks?" Castor asked, facetiously. He sat on the ground and leaned back against a tree with his knees raised.

"Don't be getting too comfortable, Cas." Mordrid said, firmly.

"Why? At this rate, I almost see the opportunity for a nap." Castor sighed.

"We never did decide how long we'd leave it before we abort the mission. Assuming the blokes over there won't leave." Gerad said.

"I say we give it at least a couple of hours." Mordrid suggested.

"Now, there's a definite opportunity for a nap." Castor scoffed.

"Nobody's napping, Cas. Got it?" Mordrid said, sharply.

"Of course. It was only an expression. Ease up!" Castor sighed.

"Maybe you should be on the lookout over there, Mordrid. I think I see a couple of new blokes added into the foray now." Luke said, pointing to the scene ahead.

"Damn it!" Ancel muttered.

Mordrid held the spyglass to his eye as he studied the scene for a minute or two.

"You're right, Luke. There's more." Mordrid sighed. He lowered the spyglass before he continued. "Quite sure I counted three new blokes added into the mix."

"Great. We want them to leave, but more keep showing." Gerad spat.

"Then, we wait." Mordrid said. Then, he peered through his spyglass once more.

In the training area well in back of the stables, Nichol had just set a chair on the ground, now he was having a word with Alfred. Richard and Nigel stood several feet away, observing, and waiting for their cue.

"This is going to be a nightmare, Richard." Nigel muttered, nodding to Alfred in the distance.

"Oh! There you are. The cockiness where you think you can conquer anything is… gone." Richard scoffed.

"What?" Nigel asked, incredulously. "The fuck are you going on about?"

"Perhaps Luke is right." Richard said.

"What?"

"She grounds you, Nigel. You were acting all flighty, and far too confident. Arrogant, even. Then you saw Aeleanna and you've been… almost normal ever since." Richard pointed out.

"Amazing what a much needed and well deserved fuck can do, mate." Nigel smirked.

"It's more than that. You love her, don't you?" Richard asked.

"I don't know?" Nigel shrugged. "I guess I do care, because if any man got anywhere near her, I'd kill him — with the exception of her father, brother, and grandsires, of course."

"Yet, it's okay for you to play around with the whores at the brothel. Funny how that works, mate." Richard chuckled.

"The times I visited there were the times that Leanna and I quarrelled, and I thought we were done. But, we always found our way back. Truth be told, she is better than any whore, and there's also the bonus of not having to worry whether or not she's diseased with… something." Nigel said, grimacing.

"Then, maybe you should consider marrying her?"

"And, ruin everything? It's perfect the way it is. Our moments are perfect. She's perfect. It's all over once the vows are spoken, mate. Let's be real, for fuck's sake. Just because I'm in a good mood after getting some, that's not a qualifier for marriage. You honestly think I'm marriage material?" Nigel sighed.

"I think you love her, and I can also tell she's good for you. She's right for you. She… does something to you. Grounds you. Just a thought, mate." Richard said.

"Oh, she does something to me, alright. If you only knew!" Nigel chortled.

"Really, mate?" Richard sighed, rolling his blue eyes.

"She lets me fuck her… everywhere, mate; and, she does so, cheerfully. I'm telling you: she does things whores can't be bothered to! How many married blokes do you know speak of their wives that way? They usually complain. That won't be me. Leanna doesn't give me a reason to complain. The second I marry her, that all goes away. Fuck that bollocks, mate!" Nigel scoffed.

"You act like your father wasn't happily wed. For God's sake, Nigel!" Richard admonished in a whisper.

"Yes. And, he's about the only one I know who was truly happy to be a husband. Look where that got him, mate? Alone, anyway. With a bleeding broken heart to go with it." Nigel sighed.

"She didn't mean to die, mate." Richard said, softly. He noticed Nigel glaring at him, then he cleared his throat. "Mordrid is married. I've never heard him make one unkind remark about Demetria." he reminded him.

"Of course, mate. That's because he never sees her!" Nigel chuckled.

"You're impossible. Here comes Nic. Guess he's worked out a plan." Richard said.

"This is going to be interesting, at the very least." Nigel chuckled.

"Alright, men. Stay at ease. We're going to observe his longbow skills before we move on." Nichol said as he moved in closer to them.

"Great. Should we come back in about an hour, then?" Nigel smirked.

"Nice try, Nigel. No. You're to remain right here." Nichol said, firmly. Then, he turned and called out to Alfred. "Alright, Alfred. When you're ready. Show us what you got!"

"Noted, Nichol!" Alfred called to him. Then, he turned back to face the target. He was positioned in the same spot as he was the day prior, seventy yards from the target.

"Did you bring your minute glass with you?" Nigel asked.

"Of course. I don't need it just now, though. We need to know whether he can hit the target."

"He's starting." Richard said to them, nodding to Alfred.

"Perhaps I'll just take a seat in the grass." Nigel said.

Alfred took aim and released his arrow. It hit dead centre mass.

"Or… maybe not?" Nigel muttered, shaking his head.

"That's great, Alfred! Go retrieve your arrow, then we'll see how many you can fire in a minute since you weren't sure of that yesterday." Nichol called. He pulled his minute glass from the pocket of his surcoat, then he seated himself in his chair.

Alfred nodded, then he turned and headed to the target.

A few minutes later, he was back in position. He took stock of the arrows in his quiver, then he took a moment to visualize the target.

"Whenever you're ready, Alfred." Nichol called.

"I'm ready! Okay, start the minute glass now, Nichol." Alfred called.

"This should be good." Nigel chuckled.

Nichol flipped the minute glass upside down, and Alfred took aim. He deftly took shot after shot, in rapid succession. Nichol leaned forward in his chair, with piqued interest; as Richard and Nigel's eyes widened in disbelief as it went on.

"Holy fuck! This can't be?" Nigel exclaimed.

"What in the devil?" Richard muttered.

"Fantastic! The minute is up. Well done, Alfred!" Nichol exclaimed, excitedly.

"How many did he fire off, Nic? I lost count." Richard said.

"Fifteen! That's even better than Ancel!" Nichol chuckled.

"Damn! He hit centre mass, too! Why the bleeding hell has he been keeping these skills under wraps?" Nigel asked, incredulously.

Alfred moved in closer to them.

"Shall I retrieve the arrows and try again, Nichol?" Alfred asked.

"No. We'll get back to that later. That was good." Nichol smiled.

"How many did I fire off?"

"You mean you don't know?" Nigel asked.

"No. I don't bother to count them. I just work on aim and speed." Alfred shrugged.

"How do you know if your speed is any good if you don't count them?" Richard asked, shaking his head.

"Precisely, mate. It's like he just thoughtlessly performs a task, hoping for the best." Nigel said, knowingly.

"That's what today is for, Nigel. Try to stay with us." Nichol said, firmly.

"Got it." Nigel nodded. Then, he turned his head and scoffed.

"The number of shots fired were fifteen, Alfred." Nichol said.

"Really? That's much better than I thought."

"Indeed. So, looks like we can forego further longbow training and move on to your skills with a blade." Nichol said.

"That's where we come in." Nigel smirked at Alfred while nodding to his mate.

"Oh." Alfred sighed.

"Indeed. They are good, Alfred. For obvious reasons, I need their assistance." Nichol said, nodding to his leg.

"Of course, Nichol, but… maybe I should be trained by men who aren't as good as… they are?" Alfred shrugged. He was really hoping Luke would be assigned to train him. There was nothing intimidating about Luke.

"Ha! Looks like we found the weak spot!" Nigel scoffed.

"Wrong, Alfred. Those men you speak of don't exist in the Black Knights. If the men were no good with weapons they wouldn't be here. You need to learn the right moves and techniques. You're getting the best instruction here, particularly with Nigel." Nichol said, firmly.

"I see." Alfred said.

"Man, how the hell did you earn your position with that obvious self esteem problem of yours?" Nigel asked.

"Not all of us think we're a gift from the Gods, as you do." Alfred pointed out.

"Confidence is not conceit. Why aren't you more confident when you've beaten the lot of us —including those funny City Watch blokes — with the crossbow, and now, the longbow?" Nigel pointed out.

"I don't know? Probably because I'm always shooting at a stuffed target, or game."

"Look, man. What you see from me is not conceit. It's confidence in my abilities. Why the confidence? Because I train, Alfred. A lot. I train hard. Once I started hoping for the best as I believe you do, I trained my fucking ass off, mate, because hoping for good outcomes never works. You need to get there, too." Nigel said, firmly.

"I was planning to give you a stern warning, but… that was actually perfectly stated." Nichol nodded to Nigel, then turned to address Alfred. "He's right. Everything he said is accurate."

"Very well. Then, I guess we best get started. I've a long way to go before I'm where he's at." Alfred said, nodding to Nigel.

"Not to worry, Alfred. We'll get you there. Now, you and Richard prepare to duel in a training exercise. We shall observe for a bit, and then Nigel will show you what he knows." Nichol instructed.

"Very well." Alfred nodded.

"Since you probably haven't used your blade much, you shall start by using staffs." Nichol said.

"Yes, Nichol." Alfred agreed.

"Of course." Richard nodded, then he looked to Alfred. "Come, Alfred. Let us begin." Richard said, nodding for Alfred to follow him.

The men had just arrived to Gunilda's home. Guy couldn't help but notice the destroyed oak tree at the front of the property.

"God's nightgown! Wonder what the hell happened there?" Guy exclaimed, nodding to the tree.

"Apparently, it was a lightning bolt that hit it. Happened on my wedding day." the Sheriff said.

"At this time of year? How strange. It rained, but there was no lightning. It was too bleeding cold!"

"Well, apparently, it hit over here. I'll let you ruminate over that while I go and have a chat with her." Nottingham said, dismounting from his horse.

"You don't need me, then?" Guy asked.

"She'll be more forthcoming with me. This won't take long." he said while securing his horse.

"Very well." Guy nodded.

Lady Gunilda had just placed a pie on a rack near the hearth when she heard a knock at her door. A part of her hoped it would be Drake, even though she knew that was impossible. She sighed, wiping her hands on a linen towel, then went to open the door.

She was a little surprised to see who it was.

"I've nothing for you… yet." Gunilda said. She noticed Sir Guy was seated atop his horse a distance away from them.

"Gilda, what the bleeding hell were you doing at the tavern last night?" the Sheriff demanded.

"My job." she said, simply.

"Damn it! You nearly blew the whole operation! You knew my men were on it. You approached them!"

"And, everything turned out well." Gunilda said.

"Not without raised suspicion on the part of my men. Or, were you just there to see Drake? I know he was there!" he exclaimed in a whisper.

"I didn't know your men would be there, including him. Yes, I saw him. We spoke briefly. Don't worry. He kept his distance."

"Sure. I can only imagine what you spoke of. Planning your next rendezvous, no doubt." he scoffed.

"He actually made the same points you just did. Warned me about ruining your men's plans and advised me to go home." Gunilda sighed.

"Good. Glad to hear he was using his head." the Sheriff huffed.

"At least, I was able to figure out one of the rebels you want." Gunilda said.

"Yes. I heard about that. As it turns out, my men assigned to the task got a read on him, too. As well as a couple of others."

"Good. They can work on those three. I'll go back there later, see what I can find out." Gunilda said.

"No. They're heading back tonight, along with reinforcements. It will be an even bigger operation tonight, and we don't need you there."

"We?"

"I plan to be there. Yes. So, for today, you have a reprieve. Leave this to us tonight, Gilda." the Sheriff said, firmly.

"Very well." she nodded.

"Besides raising suspicion with my men last night, you most definitely raised questions with the rebel blokes, I'm certain." the Sheriff sighed.

"Wrong. Those men don't know a thing." Gunilda smirked.

"Excuse me? How is that?" the Sheriff inquired with a suspicious quirk of his brow.

"Nothing that a little momentous absentia couldn't fix." Gunilda hinted.

"What? What in the devil are you going on about?" he demanded.

"Just a little spell to make them forget they saw me at that time. I used that right before I left."

"I see." he said. This explained Nigel's comment about how the Artorus bloke seemed to suddenly forget all about her.

"Will that spell addle their brains, possibly making them more dangerous?"

"Not at all, George. It won't erase me from their vision if they should see me again, either. It only takes care of them seeing me for a few brief moments in time. To them, I wasn't present at the tavern." Gunilda explained.

"Right. Well, thank Zeus you didn't use that on my men."

"Of course. I had no intention to." she said. She paused a moment before she continued. "How is Lady Rhiannon doing? She came by to see me just after you left here on Sunday. She wanted suggestions to retrieve a memory. She said you were fully aware what she needed to remember."

"Your suggestion worked. Cheers for that, Gilda." he nodded.

"Oh, good. I'm glad I could help." Gunilda smiled.

"Indeed. I am, too."

"So, this plan for tonight, is that why Safforus is needed? He mentioned something about needing to join your men tonight, after a few of your men stopped by this morning."

"Yes. He will be joining us."

"I see. Is that all you needed to speak to me about?" Gunilda asked, curiously.

"What exactly did you learn from your strange meeting with the one bloke at the table where my men were gathered?" the Sheriff asked, pointedly.

"Not a whole lot. Just that he was lying when he said there was no cause to join in. I could smell the desperation from them as I walked past the table where the rebels were seated. I know I confused your men. Could tell from the looks on their faces, but… I had to try, George." Gunilda said.

"I see. Just keep your distance tonight. Stay here. I don't know what exactly those blokes are up to, but it won't be good, Gilda."

"Understood. I'd invite you and your cousin inside for some fresh baked apple pie, but it looks like you're going somewhere." Gunilda said, nodding to Gisborne.

"Yes. Gis and I have somewhere we need to be."

"Very well. I shall adhere to your instructions." Gunilda nodded.

"Good. We'll be in touch." the Sheriff said, then he turned to head back to his horse.

As the day progressed, Rhiannon was beginning to understand the points her husband raised about too many steps involved with getting her ready for nursing. It was now early afternoon. She'd just finished with another round of massage and friction applied to her nipples using a cold cloth. Now, she had hot compresses applied to her breasts, while she had plenty of liquids at her side. A pitcher of water, and a goblet filled with it was there, at the ready. She drank of the water while she waited.

She started to nod off at one point, and her dreams were a mixture of memories and unusual visuals, some of which she couldn't make sense of. There were memories of birthing her son, and that was mixed in with scenes from when she laboured with Sela. Then, she could hear her husband telling her to just relax and enjoy their baby, that she didn't need to go above and beyond to prove she was a good mother. Then, she heard the voice of her brother, Edward. She couldn't see him, but his voice was clear.

"The name you both chose for him -- I like it, Sis." he said.

In the next strange part of the dream, she was standing at the window as heavy rain was coming in, soaking the bodice of her gown. It was very cold, yet, in the dream, she couldn't move from it.

Suddenly, she jolted awake at the sound of a knock on the door. She touched the compresses. Now, they were cold.

"Damn it!" she muttered.

She quickly removed them and put them in a basin that was on a table beside her, before quickly drying with a small towel, adjusting her shift underneath her gown, and fastening the buttons on the bodice of her gown. Then, she sighed and went to the door.

"Oh. Good day, Isabelle." she said, greeting her. She noticed right away that her sister in law appeared quite pallid of complexion again.

"Did I interrupt something, dearest? It took you a time to answer." Isabelle asked.

"Not really. I thought you might be Lady Margaret bringing my boy back. It will be feeding time soon."

"She's not taking care of that?"

"Not today. We're trying something… new." Rhiannon said, evasively.

"Oh? A new food item, or something?" Isabelle pressed.

"Yes. You could say that. It's a new item, alright."

"Fascinating!"

"Not really. It's good and everything, but, it's a bit of work."

"Work? To feed a baby boy, Rhiannon? Has he started heaving, or something?" Isabelle asked, worriedly.

"Come in, Sister. I'd much rather tell you privately." Rhiannon said as she ushered her inside.

Once the door was closed, Isabelle eyed her sister in law, questioningly.

"Is everything alright with the wee lad, Rhiannon?"

"It will be. I'm hopeful." she began.

She quickly explained the change to the baby's feeds, and some of the steps needed to get that going. She left out the bits regarding massage and nipple stimulation, though. As far as Rhiannon was concerned, only her husband needed to know about that.

"Oh, that's delightful, dearest! How dedicated you are to make this work! I think it's wonderful." Isabelle smiled.

"When he's at my breast, it is. Except, I've nothing for him right now, so… that's discouraging."

"It will come, Sister. He's getting the goat's milk that you're putting there for him. Eventually, it will come."

"Have you heard of anything like this, Isabelle? You've a bit of experience in the childbirth end of things."

"I have, Sister. With wet nurses, in particular. It can be done. From what I gather, it involves the warm compresses you spoke of, an increase in fluids on your part, and I think I recall something about breast massage and stimulation of nipples, too — if memory serves me right." Isabelle explained.

"It does involve a lot of… steps. I'm hoping this works, except it already feels like my world revolves around my breasts, which is a bit tedious." Rhiannon sighed.

"Looks like this is keeping you busy, Rhiannon. Not quite understanding why, though, when he wouldn't need to be fed as often as a newborn would?" Isabelle shrugged.

"That is correct. That is just my misfortune for not knowing I already had a baby when I agreed to the bindings to stop the milk from flowing when I lost my daughter. Lady Margaret says I need to keep at it frequently to make it work." Rhiannon sighed.

"You need a lot of motivation to make this work, dearest. It takes a good deal of effort and time to make it happen. Wet nurses are paid to do this. You are not." Isabelle pointed out.

"What are you saying, Isabelle? Do you… think this is a bad idea?" Rhiannon asked.

"No. I'm just informing you of what I know — that it takes time and effort. And, also letting you know that it's alright if you decide it doesn't work for you. You will not have failed your baby."

"That's funny. That's almost exactly what George said about this." Rhiannon said, narrowing her eyes while folding her arms.

"That's understandable, dearest. He's likely concerned about you." Isabelle nodded.

"Did he put you up to this? He talked to you, didn't he?"

"No, Rhiannon. Why would he speak to me about such a matter?" Isabelle pointed out.

"Hmm. I suppose your right."

"I came to ask about when the next riding lesson might be. Looks like I should give you some time. Just let me know when that might work for you."

"Looks like I should give you some time, Isabelle. You're pale again. You haven't been right lately. I do hope Thomas will be checking on you today?" Rhiannon asked.

"I… uh… hadn't planned on it." Isabelle frowned.

"Dearest, have you not looked at your image in a mirror lately? You're white as a sheet right now! Are you alright? Maybe you best be seat — "

"I'm fine, Rhiannon. You mustn't fret, dearest. Didn't Lady Margaret warn you that worry can slow milk production? Pain does that, too, incidentally." Isabelle said smoothly, removing the focus from herself.

"Really?"

"It's true." Isabelle nodded.

"I didn't know that."

"Yes. So, if your ribs, or the other injuries you sustained a sennight ago are tender at all, take a drop of your opium, Sister. It won't hurt you to do so." Isabelle advised.

"Oh. I see. Thank you, Isabelle. I appreciate your advice. Are you sure that you're quite alright?"

"I am." Isabelle nodded.

"Maybe you should eat something?"

Isabelle took a deep breath to stay the nausea and urge to gag she felt just then.

"I… will. Soon." Isabelle said, feigning a smile.

"What do you think I should do?" Rhiannon asked, curiously.

"Only you know what's right for you, Sister. And, when you've had enough. I support you no matter what."

"Thank you, dearest." Rhiannon smiled.

"Of course." Isabelle smiled.

"It may be a couple of days before I can schedule time for your riding lesson. Will that be agreeable?"

"Of course, Rhiannon. Take all the time you need." Isabelle nodded.

The two women embraced before Isabelle took her leave.

The Sheriff and Gisborne had arrived to the manor in Nettlestone. They secured their horses to trees rather than in the stables, since they weren't planning to stay very long.

"You see, Gis? No poles, or evidence of this obstacle course from the front, or along the sides of your property." the Sheriff said, as he gestured to the areas he mentioned.

"That's a start, I suppose. Let's see if it's out back." Guy suggested.

The two walked around the large stone manor to the back property. They didn't see anything at first, until Guy squinted his eyes when he noticed something in the distance. About one hundred yards well in back of the property, not far from a tree line.

"I think that might be it." Guy said, pointing to it. "It looks like it's going to be… big. God's nightgown!" he muttered.

"I think you're right. Let's go see this creation." the Sheriff said. He nodded for Guy to follow him since Guy appeared hesitant at first.

A short time later, they stood closer to it, at one end. They looked up, and shook their heads in disbelief. There were evenly spaced poles, some not in a direct line but in a zig zag pattern. At either end of the course, two very tall poles stood that held a support beam overhead, high in the air. From that, at the centre, were three long poles, evenly spaced, held by chains to the support beam which swung like pendulums, under which more poles were placed for balancing.

"What the hell, Cousin? Are you seeing this?" Guy asked, shaking his head.

"Oh, I'm seeing it. Uh… impressive." the Sheriff smirked.

"George, how in the devil would he get up on those poles and hop across them — with a bleeding sword in hand! What? They got to be close to four feet high, and nearly that spaced apart! WHAT?" Guy exclaimed, incredulously.

"Indeed. Not to mention the swinging poles. And, how the hell did he construct this… alone? Now, I'm beginning to understand a couple of things." Nottingham said, in awe of the construction.

"What's that?" Guy asked, curiously.

"One: why Richard is hesitant to use this thing. And, two: why Nigel looks as strong as a bleeding ox!" Nottingham chuckled.

"God's nightgown, George! Richard was right. It's insane!"

"It certainly is, Gis."

"I mean, I don't know whether to be angry, or proud of the bloke!" Guy exclaimed, shaking his head in pure astonishment.

"Looks like this is only the start of it, too, Gis. Walk with me. Let's get a closer look at this." he said, nodding for Guy to follow him.

"George, how can we possibly expect the others to master this damn thing? I can't even work out how Nigel manages it?" Guy asked while they walked beside it.

"It's like you said yesterday. Nigel is very competitive. Remember you said that about he and Mordrid? Although, I think Nigel is winning with that at the moment." the Sheriff said with a knowing quirk of his brow.

"Is it a win, though? I can't think of any one of us who would be ready for this… besides him, of course."

"Seems to have worked well for him, so far. Very good. He was more than prepared for any fool who might have come here to threaten my son." the Sheriff smiled, proudly.

Once they surveyed the entire obstacle course, the Sheriff looked to Guy, shaking his head.

"We could probably move this, but, we're going to need many pairs of hands. We need men, and… more than a few wagons, it would seem. Richard was right." Nottingham said.

"Indeed. Who?"

"The ones who know of my son. I'm not ready to talk about the whole story yet, Gis. But, we can make this work. It might be a few days, however. We have other priorities at the moment. If we can make some progress with a few more of the rebel blokes, perhaps we can start on this on Thursday, then finish up with it by the end of the day on Sunday."

"Of course, Cousin." Guy agreed.

"I'll need to talk to the men. We'll need Nigel, Richard, Mordrid, the Duke, Luke, you and I… and, I can't think of anyone else. The only other one might be James, but he's not even aware of Ed — my son. He's occupied, anyway." he said, glad he caught himself before revealing his son's name. He and Rhiannon planned to do that together with their family.

"George, you can take all of your best archers, your best swordsmen, your best crossbowmen, and, with the exception of Nigel who is good with his sword and his bow — no one is going to be able to do this without injuring themselves. And then… what?" Guy pointed out.

"It worked for Nigel, Gis. Perhaps you're right. Maybe the bloke is a descendant of Hercules, or something, who knows? We'll scale it down a bit so that the men can use it. We'll start there and see how it goes. I'm seeing a benefit to this. Nigel was always fit, but he looks stronger than he's ever been. There's no denying it. We can make this work. It will give us an advantage, and that edge that we've been talking about of late." the Sheriff said with his eyebrow quirked, knowingly.

"Very well." Guy nodded.

"And, when we return, we'll bring the rocking horse that got left in the barn. The one you crafted for my son."

"Of course. Have you had a chance to use the wagon yet?" Guy asked, curiously.

"Not as yet. That may be a couple of days depending on when my wife decides to drop all of this feeding nonsense with our boy. As it stands now, she doesn't have the time to lace up her boots with all of the pure bollocks she's trying to keep up with." he sighed.

"Sounds damn tedious to me, Cousin." Guy frowned.

"Indeed, Gis. That's the polite way of describing it."

The two started to walk together toward their horses.

"I just thought of one other man who can help us, who knows about my boy." Nottingham said as they were passing the barn.

"Whom?"

"Robert. He might not be a part of the ranks, but he's capable. Nic will have to be in charge." he said.

"Good. With that many of us we can surely do this. I'm hopeful." Guy nodded.

The team assigned to the meeting place of the Christian Brotherhood rebels finally had the opportunity to move in closer. The rebels began to leave on horseback a short time ago. Ancel and Castor were tasked with keeping watch using Mordrid's spyglass. Mordrid, Luke and Gerad had just made entry into the abandoned warehouse.

It was a very large, mostly empty space. There were a few long tables and chairs scattered about, some wooden crates spotted at the back of the room, and a large desk placed near a window of the north facing wall.

Luke and Gerad headed to the back of the room to investigate the crates, while Mordrid went straight for the desk.

There was nothing on top of the desk, so Mordrid went through the drawers. He found copies of documents that were already submitted to the Sheriff, but then a large scroll caught his eye. He grabbed it, unrolled it and took a look. His eyes widened when he realized.

"Oh, fuck!" Mordrid muttered, softly.

In the meantime, Gerad worked to pry open one of the crates while Luke assisted him. It took quite a bit of effort and several moments, but finally, the lid gave way.

"Damn it!" Luke muttered when he looked inside of it.

"Christ, what are they planning?" Gerad gasped.

"I think I know." Mordrid sighed. He turned to face them, leaning against the desk holding a large parchment in his hand. "Let me guess. Weapons in the crates?" he asked with his eyebrow quirked knowingly over his blue eyes.

"Correct. There's a lot of them, and this is only one crate we're looking at." Gerad said.

"What is it, Mordrid. What's in your hand?" Luke asked, nodding to the parchment.

"This is bad, lads." Mordrid frowned as he walked closer toward them.

He held it out to show them.

"No. Bloody. Way." Luke sneered as he looked at it.

"Is that… what I think that is?" Gerad asked, his eyes widened in shock.

"It is, Gerad. Blood of my blood." Mordrid exhaled sharply. "Damn it. We must get word to the Sheriff immediately. I don't think we can get all of those fucking weapons out of here, though. Curses!"

"I've got some leather sacks I brought. We can stuff some in those. And, you need to bring that with you, Mordrid." Luke suggested, nodding to the parchment.

"Got it. Start gathering whatever you can of those weapons. We leave soon. Make it so." Mordrid urged them.

Things had progressed slowly in the training area. Nichol was taking a moment to speak to Alfred about his observations when Alfred attempted to duel with Richard, and when Nigel stepped in afterward.

Richard was watching Nigel. He couldn't help but notice that his mate was acting strangely when he was instructing Alfred. At one point Alfred lunged toward him with his sword pointed at him, and Richard noticed Nigel flinched slightly. Even though Alfred was doing what Nigel instructed him to, and that everyone knew Nigel was more than capable of besting Alfred. This moment occurred when Nigel was assessing how Alfred handled his blade, before they would train using staffs.

And now, Nigel was quiet, which was unusual for him. Richard observed him for a moment, then walked toward him.

"Are you alright, mate?" Richard asked.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Nigel asked.

"I don't know. That's why I'm asking. You're not yourself, Nigel. Kind of quiet. And, you reacted weirdly when Alfred — "

"You think I'm afraid of him, Richard? Is that it?" Nigel scoffed.

"No. I'm just noticing something off about you."

Nigel exhaled sharply and looked to the ground. Then, he slowly looked up into his eyes.

"I guess… something is off." Nigel muttered.

"What is it!" Richard asked.

"Strange senses, mate. It's hard to describe. First, I feel compelled to see Leanna again." Nigel began.

"Maybe you should give her a break with that, Nigel." Richard chuckled.

"Oddly, I'm not referring to that. I… need to talk to her. Even though… I don't know what we'd talk about? Not yet, anyway. It will come to me." Nigel muttered.

"Nigel? Mate, you're not making sense?" Richard asked, shaking his head.

"Something feels… unsettling. It's been coming to me off and on all day, ever since a raven was perched on my window ledge when I awoke this morning. It was a bit surreal. It was looking right at me for a few moments before it flew off. As if… it was trying to communicate with me, or something weird? Like a bleeding warning!" Nigel exclaimed in a whisper.

"That is strange, mate. You were completely different this morning, though. All you could talk about was your meeting with Aeleanna." Richard reminded him.

"Because I purposely put the creepy raven out of my head, and filled it with last night's juicy memories, mate. Except, the weird sensations of… foreboding started creeping in again." Nigel said. "I don't know. Beats me?" he shrugged.

"Don't be spooked by that raven, Nigel. It was probably just coincidence you saw it. It wasn't giving you a sign." Richard advised.

"Milord Sheriff says there's no such thing as coincidences. I suppose, we shall see." Nigel nodded.

"Here comes Nic, mate. Try to put that out of your mind. All is well." Richard smiled, reassuringly.

"That was good, lads." Nichol said.

"Was it? I think we still have some work to do." Nigel said.

"He doesn't have a lot of experience using that sword, but after you showed him some moves I think we're on the right path now."

"I observed his basic sword fighting skills for a few brief moments. We trained with staffs. Still a bit different than wielding an actual blade, Nic." Nigel pointed out.

"Still, he's getting the best of instruction. I observed, too. We're definitely gaining some traction with this." Nichol said.

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

"Indeed." Nigel nodded, absently.

"Are you quite yourself, Nigel?" Nichol asked, noticing Nigel seemed bothered by something.

"I'm great, Nic. No worries." Nigel said.

"Really? Quite agreeable, and no smart remarks. That's how I know something is off with you." Nichol said with a knowing quirk of his brow.

"Everything's fine, Nic. What now? Shall we have another go around with Alfred? A little more work wouldn't hurt." Nigel suggested.

"Yes. I'll leave you to do that, Nigel. You gave him good instruction."

"Good. Very well. Cheers, Nic!" Nigel smiled. Then, he called over to Alfred.

Richard and Nichol looked to each other curiously, while side eyeing Nigel.

"Alright, Alfred. You ready for round two?" Nigel called as he picked up the staff. He held it high to show to Alfred.

"Ready, Nigel." Alfred nodded.

Nigel walked over to him, and the two prepared for another training session.

"Is… he alright, Richard?" Nichol asked, nodding to Nigel.

"I think so, Nic. He'll be fine." Richard nodded.

"Let us hope. We need him sharp tonight."

"He's always sharp, Nic. You know that." Richard said.

"Yes, you're right. He just seems bothered by something. And, the fact he's keeping whatever that is to himself is troublesome. He's never quiet."

"True, but I'm sure there's no need for concern." Richard nodded.

Later that afternoon, the Sheriff and Guy returned to the castle. They had only just entered the front door when the Scribe approached them to report the men sent to search the warehouse were in the Council Quarters, requesting an urgent meeting.

The Sheriff and Guy looked to each other, curiously. The Scribe took leave of them, and the men continued swiftly to the meeting chamber.

They opened the door and stepped inside, walking toward the large table. Each of the men stood from their seats when they entered the room.

"What news, men? The Scribe said this was urgent." the Sheriff asked as he drew closer to them.

"Do you want a quick rundown before we get to the items we found?" Ancel asked.

"Anything important, I want to know. Now." Nottingham said, firmly. He stood a few feet from the table with his arms folded.

"We had to wait a time, Milord. Two of the men Ancel, Richard, and Nigel met last night were present, along with two others." Luke explained.

"Mordrid brought his spyglass. Using that, I was able to see one bloke handing crossbows and papers to the ginger bloke, Stan Cross. Cross was taking them inside the warehouse." Gerad reported.

"Ancel identified Cross before Gerad took the spyglass from him to better see what exactly they were doing at the warehouse." Mordrid added.

"Interesting." Nottingham muttered.

"After a time, three more blokes showed up, and we waited. Finally, all seven left." Mordrid said.

"Ancel and I kept watch while the others checked out the warehouse." Castor added.

"Once we breached entry, Gerad and I went to investigate large wooden crates at the back of the room. Mordrid looked through a desk, Milord." Luke explained.

"What was in the crates?" he asked.

"They were filled with weapons, Milord. Seems they're maintaining a steady supply since that shed at the church was emptied out." Gerad frowned with a knowing quirk of his brow over his piercing blue eyes.

"Bastards are planning something!" Guy spat.

"You're telling me." Mordrid muttered.

"And, what did you find in the desk, Mordrid?" the Sheriff asked, pointedly.

"At first, all I found were copies of the same documents we already submitted to you which Castor found in the church on Saturday. And then… I found the… worst part of all of it." Mordrid sighed.

"Thus, the reason this meeting was urgent." Ancel added.

"What is it?" he asked.

Mordrid extracted a scroll from the pocket of his surcoat and passed it to the Sheriff.

"You need to see this, Milord." Mordrid frowned.

The Sheriff took it and unfurled it, and held it horizontally. Guy stood beside him, peering at it with him.

At once, their eyes widened while they looked upon it in astonishment.

"God's nightgown!" Guy exclaimed.

The Sheriff waited a moment before commenting, staring at the document.

"Interesting how these sodding cretins think they're clever!" Nottingham spat.

"Milord?" Luke asked.

"What kind of fighting experience do those Jesus blokes have, Luke? They'll never beat us. All of you are highly skilled, and one can do things damn near no human can — hop around on poles with a sword in hand while more poles swing past him!" Nottingham exclaimed while waving the scroll — a diagram of the castle, including the general layout. Then, he addressed all of them. "Yes. Gis and I saw the obstacle course. It's insane, alright!" a beat. "We're gonna get all of those brainwashed, misguided cretins. What I'm more interested in knowing is: who the fuck gave them this information? Whomever it was won't be breathing for much longer!" he spat.

"Indeed, Milord." Mordrid agreed.

"The other thing I want to know is: who the hell is backing them? Weapons aren't cheap, and those bunch of brainwashed fuckwits are still managing to stockpile them! I'm telling you: a few heads will be rolling after this!" Nottingham hissed through his teeth with rage.

"We'll get to the bottom of it, Milord Sheriff." Ancel vowed.

"We will, Milord." Luke agreed.

"Indeed." Mordrid nodded.

Just then, there was a knock at the door. The sentry opened it to announce Nichol was there with Nigel and Richard.

"Good. Send them in directly." Nottingham instructed.

Within moments, Nichol entered the room with Richard and Nigel flanking either side of him.

"We finished our training with Alfred for the day, Milord. Alfred went to assist Joseph with door duty for a time before he meets us here when the Sherwood team returns." Nichol explained.

"Good. How did that fare?" he asked.

"He's good with his longbow. Fired fifteen shots in one minute, all hitting centre mass. His swordplay needs work, but he could probably hold his own. Although, they trained using staffs. It will take a bit more refining, but he's keen on it." Nichol said.

"Good, because I need everyone in top form." Nottingham said with a knowing quirk of his brow. He passed the scroll to Nichol. "Look what was found at the Jesus blokes' meeting place, Nic."

Nichol looked to him curiously as he took it from him. Richard and Nigel moved in closer to get a better look. They all stared at it, and began to shake their heads.

"No way." Richard muttered.

"Fucking bastards!" Nigel spat.

"Shaping up to be just like ninety fucking four!" Nichol sneered, passing the scroll back to him.

"Great. Just as I suspected. The Nottingham Siege — Part Two." Nigel sighed.

"No, men. It won't be anything like that. This time, we know it's coming, and we are better prepared. We were already getting prepared before Mordrid found this today." the Sheriff said, confidently. Then, he looked to Nigel. "Even you were preparing with that obstacle course you built, Nigel — though, you may not have realized it at the time."

"But, we don't know when they plan the incursion, Milord." Mordrid pointed out.

"And, that's what we're going to find out. Tonight." the Sheriff said.

"Has our strategy changed, Milord? Thought we were going to take them by surprise, and make some arrests?" Ancel asked, curiously.

"We need to know more of what they're planning. All we have is a damn diagram and layout of the castle. We don't know the timing, or their plan. We need to know those things." he said.

"They're going to be on to you, George. They must know it was you who emptied out their shed full of weapons behind the church. Now they will notice this scroll is missing. They'll point the finger at you, first thing." Nichol warned.

"No, they won't." the Sheriff smirked.

"How?" Guy asked.

"We're going to return this to them. A copy of this." the Sheriff said, waving the scroll in front of them.

"Milord, they may already have noticed it is missing from the large desk in that warehouse." Luke pointed out.

"And, everyone makes mistakes, Luke. A copy of this will be put back when you men are taken to the warehouse tonight. They'll think they misplaced it. You see, I'm almost certain that's where those blokes will be taking you." Nottingham said with his eyebrow quirked, knowingly.

"I concur." Ancel nodded.

"Sounds tricky. A copy, Milord?" Luke asked.

"Indeed." the Sheriff nodded. Then, he looked to Richard. "That's where you come in, Richard. I need you to draw an exact copy of this. They must believe the copy is the original. But, we're keeping the original. This is evidence." he said, nodding to the parchment in his hand.

"Really, Milord?" Richard asked.

"You successfully drew three people accurately, without ever meeting them, mate. You can easily do this!" Nigel encouraged him.

"He's right, Richard." the Sheriff nodded.

"But, I've never before copied another's work?" Richard argued.

"Satan's teeth, Richard! It's a damn diagram!" Nottingham huffed.

"Yes, but there's writing on it, as well, Milord. I'd need to get the handwriting exact." Richard pointed out.

"You can do this, Richard. You will do this. You'll have it ready before we leave tonight."

"Very well, Milord." Richard nodded.

"And, while we're at it, do any of you recognize the handwriting on this?" the Sheriff asked all of them as he held the scroll up in front of them.

"I don't, mate." Nichol said.

The rest of the men shook their heads.

"It's not the Scribe's handwriting. I'd recognize his anywhere. I can't identify this writing at all. The only ones who take notes for me are the Scribe and Robert. This is not their handwriting. Curses!" the Sheriff spat.

"We will endeavour to get to the bottom of it, Milord." Ancel said.

"Good. Now, the four of you who were sent to the tavern last night will assume the same alter egos you used then. You will dress the same, use the same names. Luke, you will take that queer looking lute with you and you'll Bard your ass off tonight. You men will learn of their plans. If you could also learn whom our mole is who supplied the details of the castle, as well as whoever in fuck is funding them, that would be grand. No one will be in uniform tonight." the Sheriff instructed them, firmly.

"Very well, Milord." Luke nodded.

"Understood, Milord." Ancel agreed.

"Yes, Milord." Richard said.

"Sounds great in theory. There's just one… tiny problem with that." Nigel said.

"Leave it to you to take issue. What is that, Nigel?" Nottingham sighed.

"How shall we learn of their plans, never mind put the copy of that diagram back — when the ambush happens? Isn't that what we're expecting them to do once we cross the threshold of that warehouse place? They might not even wait for that." Nigel pointed out.

"This is where playing your parts, and doing what you can to gain their trust comes in. Ancel is the expert on that. Learn what you can from him."

"Very well, Milord." Nigel nodded.

"You will still have reinforcements. And, we'll still be tailing you the second that those Art, Bert, and Stan blokes lead you men away to their little hub." he said as his eyebrow shot north, knowingly.

"Of course, Milord." Nigel nodded.

"Well, that's good to hear. This could go awry very easily." Richard muttered.

"We won't let it, Richard. We stay in the game with our alter egos, and we'll stay in control." Ancel said, confidently.

"You see, men? Ancel gets it. I'm telling you, he is the best when it comes to playing a part to stay ahead of a criminal's plans. Three of you here don't understand that yet." he said, looking to Nichol, Nigel, and Richard. "But, let me make it clear. We put Ancel through intense interrogation, which turned into a group interview. There's a very good reason he was offered his position as one of the top men. He went above and beyond what any of us would do to stay ahead of potato bloke's plans. Follow his lead, and you'll all be golden." the Sheriff said, firmly.

"Yes, Milord." Nigel nodded.

"Understood, Milord." Richard agreed.

"Good. Well done to all of you today. You're all on break until we meet here at dusk when the Duke's team arrives. The four of you assigned to tavern duty last night will come prepared to that meeting, using the same costuming, face paint, earbob things, and props you had last night. That means your funny looking lute, Luke." the Sheriff said.

"Gittern, Milord." Luke nodded.

"Whatever. We're leaving directly after the meeting, so make sure you have a few tunes up your sleeve, lad."

"Of course, Milord." Luke nodded.

"You should do that Lightning tune again, kid. That put everyone on notice." Nigel chuckled.

"I'll see how it goes. I have a few others in my repertoire similar to that." Luke grinned.

"This is going to be deadly!" Castor chuckled.

"Indeed." Gerad agreed with a smirk.

"And, it's all for show. It's not meant to be fun and games, you two. All of you are there to perform a task, even Luke with his Bard act." Nottingham said, firmly.

"Of course, Milord." Gerad nodded.

"Aye, Milord." Castor agreed.

"Milord, if I could address the men before we adjourn?" Nigel asked.

"Go ahead, Nigel." the Sheriff nodded.

"I say we make use of our time and have a go in the training area to get further prepared for tonight." Nigel suggested to his comrades.

"I suppose that would be useful." Mordrid nodded.

"I agree." Gerad said.

"Good idea, Nigel." Luke nodded.

The rest nodded in agreement.

"Good. See if you can teach them a few moves you honed in your time on that mad obstacle course you constructed, Nigel." Nottingham scoffed, with a knowing quirk of his brow.

"Milord?" Nigel asked.

"We saw it today, Nigel. What in the bleeding fuck, man?" Guy asked, incredulously.

"Sir Guy?" Nigel asked, shaking his head.

"Lad… how the hell did you do it? Building that… monstrosity? And, how do you not go flying off those poles and lop your head off with your blade?" the Sheriff asked, genuinely curious for the reply.

"Strength, agility, and a lot of timing, Milord. As for building it, I guess… patience, and motivation." Nigel shrugged.

"I see. Well, you and Richard, Mordrid, and Luke take note that starting Thursday we're going back to start disassembling this… monstrous and heavy creation of yours, Nigel. Gis and I will be accompanying you, along with the Captain, and Robert." the Sheriff said.

"As you wish, Milord." Nigel said.

"Will that be enough men to help, Milord?" Gerad asked.

"Yes. The assignment Nigel and Richard were on is only known to a select few. Those men will be taking care of dismantling and transport. However, most of you will assist with reconstructing it in the training area." the Sheriff said.

"Milord? If it's that monstrous in size, and heavy, as ye say; plus, this will take time and manpower to dismantle it and move it here, so… couldn't we just build a replica of it here?" Castor asked.

"Using whose trees, Castor? Mine? A clue: No. It's perfect as is. The bloke created a damn masterpiece, I'll say that for it. We're moving it here." the Sheriff said, firmly.

"Of course, Milord." Mordrid nodded.

"Hope you lads are strong. There's some rocks we need to lift. We're going to need to bring them, too." Nigel warned.

"Curses! I was afraid you'd say that." Richard sighed.

"The hell do we need rocks for?" Mordrid asked.

"To support the structure. All of the poles that are firmly planted into holes in the ground were done using dirt and rocks." Nigel said.

"Bloody hell." Luke sighed.

"Oh, and we'll need to dig holes for those, of course, when we erect it in the training area. Hope your muscles aren't soft. I'm gonna make them sing." Nigel chuckled.

"You're loving this, aren't you?" Mordrid asked, facetiously.

"Have you gone soft, Mordrid?" Nigel teased.

"Never." Mordrid grinned.

"I guess we shall see." Nigel said, then stood from his chair. "I'll meet you men there shortly." he said. Then he looked to the Sheriff. "Are we finished for now, Milord?"

"Yes, Nigel. Go, do what you need to do, then you can whip these lads into shape… so to speak." the Sheriff grinned.

"Very well. Thank you, Milord." Nigel nodded. Then, he took his leave.

Nottingham noticed that Nigel was behaving oddly polite the last few moments. He contemplated that a moment or two, then he turned his attention to the rest of the men.

Next, Richard asked to take the diagram with him. He explained to the men that he would meet them in the training area soon after he worked on copying it.

Soon, the rest of the men began to file out of the room leaving the Sheriff, Guy, and Nichol in the meeting chamber.

"Damn it, George! You sure you're confident how this will play out tonight?" Nichol asked.

"I am. They already made it work last night. Ancel is good at playing parts and gathering information while pretending to be an ally. Then, we got a skilled Knight who also has musical talent, and another one who has some kind of magick in him to allow him to do superhuman things. You didn't see that obstacle course, Nic. It's fucking mad!" Nottingham grinned.

"Indeed." Guy muttered.

"You sure we're better prepared than we were for that sodding incursion in ninety four, mate?" Nichol asked.

"I am, Nic. You should be, too. You've been working with them the last three days. We also have our two City Watch members which we didn't have then." he pointed out.

"Yes. That is true. Forgive me for still being… bitter about that damn day, mate." Nichol sighed.

"Understood, Nic. Now, I'm going to leave it to one of you to remind Robert about the meeting here at dusk. You and he will be in charge tonight, Nic. I need to… check on something." he said as he stood from his chair.

"Of course, Cousin." Guy said.

"Very well." Nichol nodded.

The Sheriff took leave of them and headed to the stairs. A short time later, he walked into his private chambers. He immediately noticed it was quiet, and assumed Rhiannon had possibly fallen asleep. He headed to the bedchamber doors and softly opened them.

Lady Rhiannon sat in a chair holding the child to her breast. She held something in her free hand close to the baby's mouth, but the Sheriff couldn't identify the object. He was more intrigued by his wife softly singing some sort of lullaby to his son.

Rhiannon was sweetly singing to the baby in a lilting, mellifluous tone.

"Hush, my darling,

It will be alright.

We came out of the darkness,

Now we walk in the light,

Of the moon

It's never too soon."

The Sheriff smiled as he gazed upon them, leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded. He was still concerned this nursing endeavour was a futile waste of time and effort, but he couldn't deny that seeing his wife and son in this moment gave him a sense of peace.

"Don't you fear the dark,

Sweet baby boy,

You were borne from strength,

Blood of my blood,

You're my joy.

So, hush my darling,

And dream of sweet things,

The roads you'll take,

And all of the man you shall be,

You better believe

In your dreams." Rhiannon sang softly, completing her lullaby.

"Lovely, my lady." he said softly, while he slowly walked into the room.

"Oh! I didn't see you there?" Rhiannon said.

"I just came by to see how you're managing, my lady. Are you remembering to look after yourself?" he asked as he bent down and kissed the top of her head.

"Sure. God knows my breasts have never been cleaner." Rhiannon sighed.

The Sheriff looked down and finally took in the sight before him. The boy was sucking from Rhiannon's entire left nipple, as she held a dropper in her right hand containing what appeared to be goat's milk. Every five seconds or so, she'd place the dropper in the corner of his mouth and squeeze it.

"Rhiannon? Is he… going to choke on all of that? He's got your entire nipple — the whole damn thing shoved in his mouth, and then you're sticking that dropper in there! Does Lady Margaret know you're doing this?" the Sheriff asked, suspiciously.

"Of course, George. I'm following her instructions to the letter." Rhiannon smiled.

"What? He's going to quit breathing soon the way this is looking! Satan's teeth, Rhiannon!" he exclaimed.

"Oh, my God. George! Relax, for crying out loud. He's old enough that he will pull away if he cannot breathe properly. Lady Margaret says even newborns will do that." Rhiannon sighed, hoping the elevation in her husband's voice wouldn't disturb the baby during his feed.

"Why does he have half of your breast shoved in his mouth? I can't even see any part of your nipple anymore?" the Sheriff frowned, squinting his eyes as he studied the scene before him. "That can't be right, my lady!" he admonished in a whisper.

"Lady Margaret said that was important. It helps the milk come, and once it flows it's still important… so that I won't get… chafed, or cracked, possibly bleeding nipples." Rhiannon said.

"Wait. WHAT!" Nottingham exclaimed.

"But, that won't happen, George, because I'm doing this the proper way." she nodded.

"Dear Zeus. The details just get worse, and worse." he sighed, slapping his palm to his forehead, shaking his head.

"I will say one thing. I'm enjoying this… for now. I can't see myself committing to this long term, however. I might be able to last until Yule, possibly the new year. We shall see." Rhiannon shrugged.

"What? That… long? He'll be eight months old by then! He's going to have teeth! He'll be damn near old enough to prepare his own meal the way you're talking!" Nottingham exclaimed in exasperation. Then, he exhaled sharply before he continued in softer tones. "Angel, I swear you're not thinking straight. You must get your rest. I'm going to send for food for you, because I would wager you haven't eaten in quite awhile. You're fading away to a damn shadow, in case I haven't mentioned it. I've seen you looking much more hale than you've been of late." he said with a knowing quirk of his brow.

"I've just been… so wound up, my love. We lost Sela, and that has been rough. And then… my God, lover." Rhiannon swallowed, as tears welled in her eyes. "I thought I lost you forever. I thought you were dead, my sweet! I've never been more terrified in my entire life, I swear it. Then, the confusion in the four days that followed, wondering if you'd ever know me, and would we marry? Next, the injuries sustained on our wedding night. It's been… taking its toll. I've… lost a lot of my appetite." Rhiannon explained in a whisper.

"My lady, you must look after yourself. All of that is past. I'm not dead. I'm right here beside you. You must find that appetite… for life that you have." he whispered as he bent down and kissed her cheek.

"I do have it, sugar. I'm just… not as interested in food as I used to be. Not that I was all that interested before. Not like… Meridwyn is. Especially, since she started carrying her child."

"You must fortify yourself somehow, my lady. I've never known you to be as… small as you are now." Nottingham frowned.

"Very well, George. In that case, some hearty stew and bread might be nice after all of the effort put in today." Rhiannon smiled.

"Shall I order dessert for the boy, too? Or, does he move on to his puréed vegetables when he's done with you?" the Sheriff sighed.

"You're impossible, George!" Rhiannon chuckled.

"Really? Mark my words, wife. At this rate, he'll be chewing on the furniture next."

"Are you going to dine with me, husband?"

"If you wish. I'm not hungry at the moment." he said.

"And, you're talking to me about my food issues, George? You're never interested in food."

"I could never be a glutton. I eat when I need to, to keep my body nourished. I don't eat just for the sake of eating." he said.

"I know. I've never understood the fascination some people have with food, either. As long as the food I'm giving our son is useful, that's what matters." Rhiannon smiled.

"I'm sure that maintaining your own nourishment is important in order to feed him, Rhiannon. I will send for those trays, my lady. Are you nearly finished there? How long does he need to be at it for?" the Sheriff asked, curiously.

"Just a few more minutes, lover. And then… we switch sides." Rhiannon said.

"What?" the Sheriff asked, incredulously.

"That's important, too. Otherwise… I'll be all lopsided when the milk comes. It also increases the chances of that chafing, cracking, and bleeding thing happening on one nipple." Rhiannon said, her eyebrow quirked, knowingly.

"Satan's teeth! And, you want to do this until at least Yule? You're going to collapse long before then, Rhiannon."

"George." Rhiannon sighed.

"I'll summon for the trays, my lady." he said. Then, he headed out of the bedchamber.

Nigel had arrived to the familiar tenth century stone manor. Luckily, it was close enough to the castle that he decided to quickly drop by to say what he needed to say; and then he could get back to the training area at the castle to get some work done before having to dress, paint his face, and run off to the meeting in the Council Quarters scheduled for dusk.

It was simple. He could do this. There was only one problem…

He still wasn't sure what exactly he was going to say.

Nigel sighed as he dismounted. He quickly tethered his horse to a tree then walked the path leading to her door. He stood for a moment, took in a breath, then knocked.

A few moments later, the door opened. She stood before him wearing a purple velvet gown trimmed in ivory lace.

"Nigel?" Aeleanna asked, curiously.

"You look… beautiful, my lady." Nigel whispered.

"Are you… alright?" she asked with her eyebrow quirked, suspiciously.

"Of course, I am." Nigel nodded.

"You may come in. I… wasn't expecting you." she said as she gestured for him to enter.

He nodded and stepped through the door. Aeleanna looked to him curiously as she closed the door.

"Let me guess. You got in trouble for taking me to the library last night. Taking me… in the library." she smirked. "Someone saw us. Is that about right?"

"No." he said, simply.

"Oh. I see. Very well." she nodded, then began to unfasten the top button on the bodice of her gown.

Nigel gently put his hand on hers to stop her.

"What are you doing, Leanna?" Nigel asked.

"What does it look like? You're here for a reason, lover. If you want it, you shall have it." Aeleanna nodded.

"Why?" he asked, pointedly.

"I beg your pardon, Nigel?"

"Why… are you so giving, consistently?"

"What?" she asked, genuinely confused by his demeanour.

"Leanna, those… things you do for me, when we're… close — "

"When you're fucking me, Nigel?" she smirked.

Nigel brought her hand up to his lips and kissed it softly. Aeleanna furrowed her brow as she observed him. He was starting to worry her.

"Nigel?" she asked, shaking her head.

"Those… things you do for me, and permit me to do to you, could… you see yourself doing those things… with another?" he asked, tentatively.

Aeleanna pulled her hand away from him and looked at him, aghast.

"My lady?"

"Don't you "my lady" me, Nigel! This is your way of saying farewell, isn't it? You gave me your goodbye fuck last night in the sodding library at the castle — of all damn places — and now, here you are. To what do I owe the pleasure of an in person goodbye, Nigel? I must say, for you — that's a new one!" she huffed.

"For fuck's sake, Aeleanna!" Nigel sighed. "It was a genuine question. I'm not here to say goodbye. Can you just… answer the damn question?"

"Seriously?" she asked.

"Yes." he nodded.

"No! There's no way I can picture myself with any other man but you, Nigel." Aeleanna sighed. She put her palm to her forehead, and shook her head.

"But… you love it. You love it when we fuck, lady." Nigel pointed out to her.

"Of course, lover. My God! For a smart man, who sometimes has sage advice to offer, you're stupid as hell about some things! I can't believe you don't see it? How you haven't seen it in all of this time? Aeleanna said, incredulously.

"See what?" Nigel asked with a shrug.

"Must I say it, Nigel?"

"Say… what, gorgeous?"

"Damn it! I love you, Nigel. I do these things for you, to you, and with you… because I love you." Aeleanna said, softly.

"You… do?" Nigel asked.

"Of course. I've loved you since the time you first held my hand."

"Hmm. Long time. Five years ago — "

"Six years, Nigel. It's been six years. You're the only man for me. How you didn't already figure this out is beyond me." Aeleanna said, shaking her head.

Nigel stood before her, staring deeply into her eyes.

"Nigel? What's going on? You're starting to scare me. You're usually fucking my ass by now." Aeleanna sighed.

"Shh." Nigel whispered as he softly caressed her cheek.

"Nigel?" she asked, confused by his behaviour. This was not like him.

"I… love you, too, Leanna." he whispered.

"What?"

"I said: I love you. It's true." he whispered as he moved in and softly kissed the corner of her mouth.

"Nigel." she breathed. "Are you sure? You didn't have to say it just to be polite." she whispered.

"I'm not being polite, Leanna. I'm finally seeing the truth." Nigel whispered as he gently held her face in his hands.

"What… truth?"

"That… I think I've loved you all along." he said. Then, he kissed her softly, passionately.

"Lover… " Aeleanna whispered, then she broke the kiss, breathlessly looking up into his deep green eyes.

"Lover, are you… quite yourself? Is something wrong?" she asked, pointedly.

"Just… whatever happens, know this: you were loved." Nigel whispered as he looked deeply into her eyes.

"You're scaring the hell out of me, Nigel!" Aeleanna whispered as tears spilled from her eyes onto her cheeks.

"Do not cry, my Leanna." he said, softly. He used his thumbs to nudge away her tears. "You're too beautiful to cry."

"Hold me, my love." she said, as she held unto him fast.

"My sweet Leanna." he whispered as he held her close to him.

"I want you, lover." she whispered.

"I didn't come here to fuck you, but, I want you, too. I always want you. I fucking crave you, lady." he growled as he kissed her hungrily.

"Nigel." she breathed. "All I've ever wanted was… your heart."

"You have it, gorgeous. Turns out… you always did." he said. "Listen, my love. I'm going to give that beautiful body of yours a little break. I must. I need to get back. I need to get to the training area, then we have a meeting, and then there's another venture I'll be taking part in tonight." Nigel explained.

"Be safe, my love." Aeleanna whispered.

"Always, my lady. You know this already. I want to see you later. If it's not too late, would that be alright?" Nigel asked, surprising his paramour with his politeness.

"Too late? Nigel, since when is any hour too late for you?" she asked.

"You need your rest."

"What?" Aeleanna asked, shaking her head. She reached out to put her palm to his forehead.

"What are you doing?" Nigel sighed.

"Checking to make sure you don't have a raging fever. My God, Nigel! What is wrong? You're so not yourself! Are you… unwell, my love?" Aeleanna exclaimed in fear.

"I'm fine, gorgeous. You mustn't worry." Nigel smiled.

"Come back to me later, Nigel. I don't care what time of night it is. Come back to me, safely."

"I will, my love. I shall hold you close to me all night. I won't even take you. I'm just going to hold you." Nigel said, then kissed her forehead.

"What? Nigel, I swear there's something dreadfully wrong with you! Lover, what is it?" Aeleanna pressed him.

"Everything is fine, gorgeous. Things have never been better." Nigel said softly, as he held her to him and smoothed her silky, wavy blond hair.

A quarter of an hour later, after he quickly handed his horse off to Gervase at the stables, Nigel entered the training area.

Mordrid and Ancel walked over to greet him, as the others were heavily involved in training.

"Well, look at that. Looks like the kid is good with his blade." Nigel smirked, nodding to Luke in the background who was training with Gerad.

"Where the hell have you been? This was your idea, Nigel." Mordrid demanded.

"Nowhere special." Nigel lied, with a shrug. "Just needed to quickly take care of something."

"Great. Are you done with that?" Mordrid pressed.

"I'm here, aren't I? Of course, I'm done." Nigel sighed.

"Good. Because you and I are having a go. Right now. Think you can handle it?" Mordrid smirked.

"I take it you weren't paying attention to Richard's comments about him, and the Sheriff's after he saw the obstacle course." Ancel pointed out to Mordrid.

"He's right, Mordrid. As I said earlier, I'm gonna make your muscles sing, mate." Nigel grinned, as he quickly unsheathed his sword.

"Ha! You wish!" Mordrid chuckled.

"Wait. Where's Richard?" Nigel asked.

"He's taken that diagram and is working on copying it. He said he'd join us as soon as he completed it." Ancel said.

"Hmm. Well, let us hope it won't take him as long as it did when the Captain had him drawing the Wordsworths when we were way the hell up north — County of bleeding Nowhere." Nigel sighed. "The most painfully tedious endeavour I've ever witnessed. It took him hours and hours, mate. You have no idea." Nigel sighed.

"It's just a diagram, Nigel. I'm sure it won't be too difficult for him." Mordrid said.

"Yes. Normally, I would agree. But, we're talking about Richard, mate — the perfectionist." Nigel chuckled.

"Seriously?" Mordrid asked.

"If you've never watched him sketch, you wouldn't know. You wouldn't believe how much parchment ended up being used as kindling when we were in the north. He's very good, but he aims for perfection every time." Nigel said with a knowing quirk of his brow.

"Hmm. He's right, Mordrid. I got that sense, too, when I described the outlaw, Hamon, to him that time Milord took me to meet with him about it." Ancel added.

"Hamon?" Nigel asked.

"Most of the men refer to him as 'potato bloke', or 'stumpy bloke', Nigel. The fugitive bloke we've been stalking Sherwood for. You remember, surely?" Ancel asked.

"Oh, right. Guess I just forgot the bloke's name. Too bad I can't get his funny looking face out of my head, though." Nigel frowned.

"Indeed." Ancel huffed.

"Let's go, Nigel. For a man who acts all super human, according to the Sheriff, you're taking your time getting started. Show us these famous moves of yours." Mordrid said.

"Hope you're ready for it, mate." Nigel winked as he twirled his sword in a perfect arc, then grabbed the hilt, with the point of the blade facing up at the end of it.

"How the fuck did you just do that?" Mordrid asked, incredulously.

"Practice, mate. Loads of it!" Nigel grinned.

A short time before dusk, the Sheriff stopped by to see his wife again. He debated for quite a time, and then he decided he should talk to her.

He found her resting on the bed against pillows. She was still dressed in her wool tartan gown, holding the baby in her arms. The boy was sleeping soundly, but Rhiannon's eyelashes fluttered when she heard footsteps entering the bedchamber. She opened her eyes. He stood beside the bed, looking down upon her.

"George? Don't you have a meeting to get to?" Rhiannon whispered.

"I'm heading there soon. I wanted to look in on my wife and son. Is there a problem with that?"

"No, of course not. Just surprising."

"I see our boy looks much more peaceful than this morning." the Sheriff said softly, nodding to the baby.

"Is… everything alright?" she asked.

Rhiannon quickly arose from the bed, still holding the baby and took him to his cradle. She gently laid him down, covering him with his blanket, then turned to face her husband.

"It's fine, Rhiannon. Why do you ask?" the Sheriff asked.

"You're acting… rather queerly, George. Like… you're deciding how to tell me something." Rhiannon sighed as she walked toward him. She stopped a couple of feet away and looked up into his eyes. "I can see the wheels turning in that mind of yours." she said with a knowing quirk of her brow.

"My lady… " the Sheriff sharply exhaled, then continued. "In the coming weeks, maybe days, I… may need to move you and our son from here."

Rhiannon's eyes widened, and she shook her head a moment.

"WHAT? You can't be serious? Surely? she demanded.

"Not just you, angel. Same goes for Meridwyn, Isabelle… hmm. Also Lady Margaret, Lady Arianna and her daughter, also, Floria, Rebeccah, possibly even Mortianna." Nottingham huffed.

"Wait. What? What the hell is going on, George? Why are we being sent away? You make it sound as if our husbands won't be joining us?"

"That is correct." he sighed.

"George? No! I'm not leaving you. We're finally a family now." Rhiannon said, firmly.

"It's the best plan."

"Why?" Rhiannon demanded.

"We have strong reason to believe a group of rebels are planning to breach the castle walls and attempt to gain entrance into the castle. We don't know the details. We're going to gather that information tonight." he said.

"And? What then?"

"We will naturally try hard to stop them. We most likely will. The problem is someone around here provided them a floor plan, and yet another is funding them. They're heavily armed. Don't know how skilled they are with them, but they've got the goods, Rhiannon. They're coming here… at least, they think they are." he said with a frown.

"Let's wait and see what you learn tonight before we do anything rash, my love." Rhiannon said, then she pointed to the cradle. "He has been through far too much already. He's lived in goodness knows how many places in his short life. He's finally settled, at home with his parents, where he should be. Where everything is safe."

"I know, my lady. And, I need to keep you both safe. Very well. We shall see how this plays out. At least now, you're forewarned." the Sheriff said softly, as he pulled her in close to him and held her.

Rhiannon looked up into his eyes.

"I didn't agree to a life without you, lover. I expect you to be away sometimes, but for us to live apart in separate residences? That's a bunch of bollocks, George. We didn't come this far to be torn apart now." she argued.

"And, I said vows on our wedding day, wife. I swore to protect you. I didn't need to say them, though, because no man with brains in his head, and love in his heart for his wife and family would ever knowingly and willingly place them in danger." the Sheriff said. His eyebrow shot north in a knowing look.

"Hmm. You did say that in your vows. Curses!" she huffed.

"And, if you'll recall, you swore to obey me, wife," he smirked.

"I have my bow, and that lovely dagger you gifted me. I'm giving you permission to ignore that vow. I can protect myself and our boy." Rhiannon nodded.

"No, my lady." the Sheriff chuckled. "You're in no way prepared for the weapons those blokes plan to bring with them."

"We've only just started our life together." she frowned.

"Rhiannon, if we can't stop them for some reason, it's going to take all of us to defend the place. Fortunately, we've been preparing with training, and new weapons."

"Good. Then kill those bastards, George. Do what you need to do. Get the rebels, the fool who gave them the floor plans, and whoever is backing them. Get them all and stop this nonsense, husband. Do whatever it takes to keep our family together!" Rhiannon pleaded with him.

"I shall endeavour to do that, my angel." he whispered, then kissed her softly.

Everyone was gathered in the Council Quarters, save for the Sheriff, Guy, Robert, and Nichol. The Captain and his men had just come in to find the tavern team dressed and ready for another go at the tavern, it appeared.

"What's this? Round two at the tavern, I'm guessing?" Alex asked, taking in the appearance of Ancel, Nigel, Luke, and Richard.

"You men missed a few things." Mordrid hinted.

"I'll say!" Castor agreed.

"Why do I have a funny feeling this is going to involve us, too?" Drake asked.

"We won't spoil it for you, Drake. Milord will brief you soon." Nigel said.

"Yep. We're going." Adam said to Drake with a knowing quirk of of his brow.

"It's certainly looking that way." Alex agreed.

"You men won't spoil it, but… maybe Alfred can?" Drake said, then he turned to give Alfred a questioning look.

"It's like Nigel said, Drake. Milord Sheriff will reveal the plans. I'm sure he will be here soon." Alfred nodded.

"How come you don't look surprised by their appearance, Captain?" Adam asked, nodding to the four who were assigned to the tavern the night previous.

"I was present at the briefing last night when they returned. But, a lot can happen around here in a short span of time, so I'm not up to speed on any new plans." Duke Farnsworth said.

"Is this why you stopped to have a word with Safforus this morning, Captain?" Drake asked.

"He's meeting us there." Duke Farnsworth nodded.

"Us, huh? So, you will be there. Hmm. Sounds intense." Adam sighed.

"That's all I know. As I said, any new developments will be covered when Milord arrives."

"Indeed." Mordrid nodded.

"Let me see that thing, Luke. May I?" Gerad asked, nodding to the gittern.

"Very well. Just be careful with it, Gerad. I've got it all tuned up nicely." Luke cautioned.

Gerad carefully picked up the instrument and began to strum at it.

"Ha! You'll never make it sing like the kid can, Gerad!" Nigel chuckled.

"I'll say! It sounds dreadful right now, but wait until Luke takes hold of it later. You better buckle in, Gerad. He's gonna blow your breeches off with what he can do with that." Richard grinned.

"Yep. We're going with them." Drake said to Adam, smirking.

"We don't know for certain what his plan is, Drake. Let's wait to find out what Milord has to say." Duke Farnsworth said.

"Any luck with the stumpy ginger bloke, Captain?" Luke asked.

"Not as yet. We found more bloodied and… foul looking rags deeper into the forest, though." Duke Farnsworth said with a grimace.

"Yep. Whatever wound he has — it appears to be festering." Alex added.

"I'll say! Damn things were rank!" Adam sighed.

"Curses! Where could he be in there that we can never find him?" Ancel mused.

"I bet I know." Nigel said.

"Really, Nigel? Enlighten us with your wisdom, then." the Captain sighed.

"Simple, Duke. He needs a place to hide out, correct?" Nigel said.

"Yes?" Duke Farnsworth shrugged, slowly shaking his head.

"Where else is as good place to hide in there but the caves near Dead Man's Curve?" Nigel suggested.

"Fuck! Why didn't I think of that?" Drake sighed.

"God, that place is so creepy." Alfred shuddered.

"I know why I didn't. Never heard of such a place. Didn't know there were caves in there, either." Ancel huffed.

"Nor I!" Luke spat.

"Of course you didn't, kid! Neither you nor Ancel would have known. Neither of you are from here, and you're both still relatively new in town." Nigel said.

"The smaller ones on the way there?" Richard asked.

"The one I'm thinking of by the Curve is very large. You know the one? People have been known to gather in there to drink, take poppy milk, smoke godsflesh mushrooms, and all sorts of other manner of potions." Nigel pointed out.

"Ah, yes. I'd forgotten about that." Richard nodded.

"Only fools would go in the large one for that sort of activity. The path there is treacherous. It's mostly highwaymen that do that sort of thing. Normal people aren't trekking into the forest to get wasted. Normal people go to the tavern, the brothel, or just do that at home." Alex pointed out.

"It doesn't matter what normal people do. The point is potato bloke is stuck in that forest without a horse, and has some sort of festering wound. If he sees those caves he'll be going in to conceal himself." Nigel sighed.

"It's definitely worth a shot to see if he's there. Good call, Nigel." Duke Farnsworth nodded.

"Cheers, Duke." Nigel smiled.

"Hamon wouldn't have known about the caves, either, though. He's from Portsmouth." Ancel pointed out.

"Maybe not, but he's obviously been spending a lot of time in the forest. When you were with him learning of his plans, did you spend as much time in the forest as he has of late?" Nigel asked him.

"No. Not much time at all." Ancel said.

"He might have come across them while he's been wandering around in there. Remember, you were his insurance policy. You were never as much a person of interest as he is. He's desperate now, and he'll be looking for a place to hide. Plus, he needs water. There's a stream near those caves." Nigel explained.

"I see." Ancel said. "Wished I'd known about that place when I was with the search team. It makes perfect sense." he sighed.

Just then, the door opened and the Sheriff, Gisborne, Robert and Nichol entered into the meeting chamber. They proceeded to the table and took their seats.

"Good. Everyone is here. How was it in Sherwood, Duke?" the Sheriff asked.

"We didn't find him, but there were indications he's still there somewhere. More bloodied, festering rags were found. His injury is obviously in a bad way. We found them deeper into the forest, Milord." Duke Farnsworth explained.

"Where in there could he be? Especially since he's been disabled by an injury?" he asked.

"I wasn't sure… until Nigel offered a suggestion." the Captain hinted.

"Where?" Guy asked.

"The caves at Dead Man's Curve." Nigel said.

"Yes. Perfect, Nigel. Depending on how things go tonight, the Sherwood team will go to the Curve tomorrow." the Sheriff instructed.

"It will be done, Milord." Duke Farnsworth nodded.

"Good. Now, let's move on to the meat of this meeting. There was a new development today that the team assigned to the warehouse uncovered." Nottingham began, then he looked to Richard. "Did you finish the copy, Richard?"

"Yes, Milord. It is done." Richard said. He extracted it from the pocket of his surcoat and passed it to the Sheriff.

The Sheriff unrolled it, and studied it.

"Perfect, Richard. It looks exact. Well done, lad." he said then gave it back to him. "You'll be in charge of putting this back in its place."

"Very well, Milord." Richard nodded, even though he was hoping the Sheriff would assign that task to another.

"What exactly… was that, Milord?" Duke Farnsworth asked.

"Oh. That?" the Sheriff asked, nodding to the scroll in Richard's hand. "Just a copy of something Mordrid found today in a desk in that cursed Jesus cult meeting place. We're keeping the original."

"I see. What is it a copy of?" the Captain asked.

"A diagram of the castle, including sodding floor plans, Duke. Those fuckwits are planning an incursion." he sighed.

The Captain's eyes widened in response.

"What?" Robert asked, incredulously.

"No bleeding way!" Alex exclaimed.

"Right? As if once wasn't enough for us." Nigel said, shaking his head.

"Fuck." Drake muttered.

"I see. What's the plan now?" Duke Farnsworth asked.

"Well, as you know, the tavern team are meeting with the three they met last night. They're going to keep playing the game to get the information we need. All we have is a diagram. We have no information on timing, or their plan of attack. We also know, as you've probably figured out, that someone provided that information to them. Someone in the know about this castle, likely someone who works for me in some capacity — is a bleeding mole, Duke." the Sheriff said as his eyebrow shot north, knowingly.

"Indeed." Duke Farnsworth sneered.

"And, in addition to that, a large supply of weapons were also found in that warehouse. Someone is backing them. Some fool with lots of money to burn is funding them. We've already confiscated a shed full of weapons from the church, yet, they're undeterred. Somehow, they're still managing to stockpile them." the Sheriff huffed.

"I see. We need answers." the Captain sighed.

"You're God damn right we do, Duke. And, that's where the four on the tavern team come in." he said. He looked to Ancel just then. "Ancel, you're up next. Many of those with us now weren't present when you returned last night. Quickly brief them now on what you learned." the Sheriff directed him.

"Yes. Milord." Ancel nodded. Then, he looked around the table to everyone gathered. "Last night, while Luke was entertaining the patrons, the rest of us met three of the rebels. One came to our table and asked who the leader of our crew was. We discovered his name is Artorus. A short time later, he took us to their table to introduce us to two others, by the names of Bert and Stan. They asked to meet us again at the same time and place tonight. We believe they'll be taking us to another location where others in the Brotherhood will most likely be present. Where, I'm guessing… Gunter Thorne will be waiting."

"Damn!" Adam exclaimed.

"That… doesn't sound good." Drake sighed.

"Once we got back, Milord Sheriff and Robert found their names on the members list that Castor found at the church. They are Artorus Becker, Hubert Rowntree, and Wolfstan Cross." Ancel added.

"And… who do they think you guys are? You weren't in uniform. And, if you looked like this last night, obviously they don't know who you really are." Alex asked.

"They think we're Aleyn, Noah, and Walter, who accompanied their mate, Lucas, the Bard, to the tavern." Nigel said.

"Who the hell called himself 'Walter'?" Adam chuckled.

"Take a wild guess, mate." Nigel grinned, nodding to Richard.

"Bleeding classic!" Gerad chortled.

"And, those are our names tonight, so you might want to remember that depending on what the plan is." Ancel said.

"Indeed, Ancel." the Sheriff said. Then, he looked to all of the men. "With the exception of Robert and Nic who will be in charge here, we're all going to the tavern tonight."

"What's the plan, Milord?" Duke Farnsworth asked.

"The four principle players from last night will resume their personas. Luke is going to entertain, which, apparently won't be a problem with Charlie, the tavern owner. The other three are going to parlay with Art, Bert, and Stan. In the meantime, Alfred and Safforus will be outside the tavern armed with crossbows. You, Gis, and myself will also be in position outside, as will Slayer most likely." the Sheriff said.

"And, what of the rest of us, Milord?" Mordrid asked.

"The rest of you will be scattered throughout the tavern. Your task is to keep an eye on Ancel, Nigel, and Richard. Luke will be doing so, too, as I'm sure he did last night."

"I did, Milord." Luke nodded.

"Good. Now, at some point we expect the cult trio to leave the tavern taking our four men with them. That's what you men need to watch for. The second that happens, we're tailing them." the Sheriff instructed.

"Understood, Milord." Mordrid nodded.

"Scatter yourselves throughout the tavern. Don't huddle together in one group. I need eyes everywhere in there. You mustn't lose focus of Ancel, Nigel, and Richard, in particular. The cult trio might only choose to take them to the second location, which will probably be their meeting place. They may leave Luke behind, since I gather they didn't meet Luke last night."

"That is correct, Milord. They didn't speak to him." Nigel said.

"They saw the four of us walk in together, though. They believe Lucas is our mate." Richard added.

"It's true, though." Ancel said to Richard. "They might choose to only take us three with them."

"Either way, we're following you, Ancel. You will have plenty of backup." the Sheriff said.

Ancel nodded.

"Alright. Is everyone clear?" he asked as he looked around the table to all of them.

All of the men nodded in agreement.

"Milord, What are you doing with the copy of that diagram that was found today?" Robert asked.

"The copy will be put back in the desk at the warehouse where Mordrid found the original. Richard is taking care of that." the Sheriff said.

"Milord, maybe it's best you don't put a copy of that back where it was found? Then, they won't know anything about the layout of the castle?" Robert suggested.

"They'll be on to us more if it's not put back, Robert. And, whomever gave it to them will just give them another. Our men are going to play the game tonight, and by doing so, they'll get the details we need. Those blokes can just think they misplaced their precious diagram." the Sheriff pointed out.

"Very well." Robert nodded.

"Good." he said, then he looked to Luke. "What about you, Luke? Is that queer looking lute thing tuned up and ready to go?" he asked.

"It's a gittern, Milord. Yes. It's ready." Luke nodded.

"You ready with a few tunes up your sleeve, lad?"

"Yes, Milord." Luke said.

"Hope you have another uptempo one prepared, kid. Remember what Charlie said? Never start with a ballad." Nigel reminded him.

"Yes. I think he said something about the probability of apples being thrown at you if you do." Richard said.

"We shall see. I'm still deciding which uptempo song to use, but I do have the slow one worked out. I guess you'd call it a ballad." Luke shrugged.

"What's the title of that one, then?" Ancel asked.

"It's called "Night Mage"." Luke said.

"Sounds intriguing. With a little luck, we might get to hear it." the Sheriff said. Then, he looked to his Advisors. "As of now, Robert and Nichol, you're both in charge here."

"Very well, Milord." Robert nodded.

"We'll hold things down here. Good fortune to you on your mission." Nichol said.

The Sheriff nodded, and then looked to the rest of the men.

"Onwards to the stables, men. Ancel, Nigel, Luke, and Richard, you men will go on ahead of us. If we all show up together it will look too suspicious." he directed them as he stood from his chair.

"Agreed, Milord." Nigel said.

"Indeed. We'll keep things on a low simmer there until we see some of our men filing in." Ancel nodded.

The men arose from their seats and they all began to file out of the Council Quarters.

A bit less than a half hour later, the four men arrived back to the tavern. They secured their horses and headed toward the queue outside the door. They soon noticed a slight commotion several feet in front of them.

"Oi! Just where the hell do you think you're going, you two?" Slayer exclaimed, grabbing the two scrawny, obviously drunk lads who attempted to walk past him into the tavern.

Ancel began to chuckle as he gave his comrades a knowing look. Nigel grinned in agreement.

"What the hell, man? We jus wanna wee drink." one lad with greasy brown hair complained in slurred speech.

"We heard there was a good Bard guy las night. Maybe he'll be back tonight?" the second ginger haired lad said.

"Classic. Check out your fan base, kid." Nigel quietly scoffed at Luke, nodding to the pair Slayer was dealing with.

"Lucky me." Luke sighed.

"Well, if he shows, that will have to be too bad for you two, right? I already tossed your scrawny arses out of here only a couple of hours ago. You're both still as drunk now as you were then." Slayer huffed, holding them both by the backs of their collars.

"Bloody hell, man! It's a bleeding tavern! Everyone is drank in there!" the brown haired bloke shouted.

"No kidding, Warin. This bloke is a merriment killer." the ginger one agreed, nodding to Slayer. He tried to kick at Slayer, which only resulted in him yelling out when he somehow managed to hurt his foot.

"Nobody is so drunk in there that they are carrying on the way you two were! One of you tried to fondle a serving lady, the other decided to try pissing on the wall! Good thing that was caught quickly, right, before you contaminated the place. Go!" Slayer ordered them. He took them further away from the door and gave them both a shove.

"Yer a self righteous waster, ye are! We know our rights! The Sheriff will hear of this." the ginger lad threatened.

"Really? Go ahead, right. Make my day." Slayer sneered.

He stood near to them a few moments to make certain they headed to the road, then he returned to his spot once the two lads were gone.

A couple of moments later the four men stood in front of him.

Slayer looked upon all of them and smirked.

"Well, it's nice to know you found a way to match that face paint and your ear bob thingies with some different attire, right? Plan to get this settled tonight?"

"Ha! At this rate, we might be needing to ask for a garment allowance." Nigel sighed.

"We need to learn a few things before that happens, Slayer. Have the same three from last night shown up yet?" Ancel asked.

"No, not as yet."

"Good. That gives us time to prepare." Luke said.

"Prepare what?" Slayer asked.

"Prepare our game plan, and get some lemon and honey tea into the kid." Nigel smirked.

"Right. Do you need me to summon Charlie for you, then?" Slayer asked.

"No. We'll take care of that." Richard said.

"Indeed. There's more men coming, Slayer, including Safforus. The Sheriff will be here soon and I'm sure he'll brief you when he arrives." Ancel explained.

"That's good Saffy is joining us. Very well. I'll watch for Milord Sheriff. You go on in. Not sure how much time you'll have, right, before those Brotherhood blokes show." Slayer warned them.

"Indeed." Ancel nodded.

"Just let me know if you need my assistance." Slayer added.

The four men nodded, then proceeded toward the door.

A short time later, they were seated at the table. The friendly attractive blonde serving lady was soon upon them. She looked at Ancel curiously, squinting her eyes.

"Weren't you with Slayer yesterday? I believe there was another with — " she started to say, but was interrupted.

"I was. It's Edeva, isn't it?" Ancel asked.

"Yes." she nodded.

"Good. We require a pitcher of diluted ale by fifty percent, one cup of lemon and honey tea for our Bard mate here." Ancel said, nodding to Luke. "Then, we're going to need a word with Charlie, and then we're going to need you to be discreet about seeing me with Slayer yesterday, Edeva." Ancel said, firmly.

"I see. Got it. I'm agreeable to that last bit only because any friend of Slayer's is a friend of mine. I'll do it for the big guy, not for you. As long as we understand each other." Edeva sighed, then she left to fulfill his requests.

"Damn, mate. I guess you've been told!" Nigel scoffed.

"Is that Slayer's paramour, or something?" Richard asked.

"No. They're very good friends, apparently." Ancel said.

"Damn. Good for him!" Richard chuckled.

"Why is it good for him, mate? She's got him in the friend corner." Nigel chuckled.

"Hmm. You do have a point." Richard nodded.

"How come you're so quiet, kid? What the hell are you looking at?" Nigel asked Luke. He turned his head in the direction Luke was looking, wondering what held his attention.

"What is it, Luke?" Ancel asked. "Do you see them?"

"No, but there's people a few tables over that keep looking this way. I don't think they're part of the brotherhood blokes, though. There's ladies with them, and they're looking at us, too." Luke shrugged.

"Yeah. I see them now. Looks like a bunch of men out with their wives, to me. I agree, kid. Doubtful they're with those rebel blokes." Nigel said, quietly.

"You going to tell us who you were here with yesterday?" Richard asked Ancel.

"I came with a friend. Slayer sat with us during his break. Nobody in here needs to know that I was talking to Slayer. Those rebel blokes would wonder about that, I'm sure." Ancel said.

"Indeed." Nigel agreed.

Just then, Charlie appeared at their table.

"Edeva informed me you were here. You lads ready for whatever your plan is?" Charlie asked them.

"We are. We're just waiting for those blokes to show. Milord is on his way. There will be plenty of back up. Slayer may alert you if the Sheriff wishes to see you." Ancel said.

"Very well." Charlie nodded. Then, he looked to Luke. "I see you brought your lute with you. Does that mean you're prepared to entertain?"

"It's a gittern. Yes, if that's agreeable with you?" Luke asked.

"Of course, it is. That's good to hear. People have been asking about you already." Charlie smiled.

"Really?" Luke asked.

"Don't act so surprised, kid. They threw their money at you last night!" Nigel reminded him with a chuckle.

"Indeed. Once I see your drinks have arrived I'll give some time for you to take your tea before I announce you. Hope you brought another catchy tune with you to start with." Charlie said with a knowing quirk of his brow.

"I did. It's a similar quality to the one I started with last night." Luke said.

"Good. I'll leave you for now. Looks like you're about to have company, anyway." Charlie smirked.

"What?" Ancel asked, his eyes widened in alert mode.

"They're here, aren't they?" Nigel sighed.

"Not yet. Don't worry. You'll see." Charlie chuckled, then he took his leave of them.

Luke suddenly noticed a few people headed their way. At first he thought they were headed to the bar, or to another table.

"Curses! Some of those people that were watching us are coming here, it seems." Luke huffed.

"That's strange." Richard frowned.

"Where's the blonde server with the diluted ale piss when you need her?" Nigel sighed.

"Excuse me?" a man asked as the four approached them.

"Yes?" Ancel asked.

"Are you… Lucas? The Bard who was here last night?" he asked, looking to Luke.

"Yes?" Luke said.

"You were just delightful! We really enjoyed it!" the dark haired lady exclaimed, who was holding the arm of the first man who spoke.

"Thank you." Luke nodded.

"I've never heard anyone like you!" a blonde haired lady exclaimed, excitedly.

Another man who appeared to accompany the blonde lady added, "Indeed. Are you booked solid?"

Nigel looked down and began to chuckle. Ancel and Richard soon followed suit.

"I'm sorry?" Luke asked.

"You must be in high demand, Sir, surely? With a voice and talent like yours?" the dark haired lady asked.

"Well… uh… " Luke stammered.

"Our family has a few events coming up. We could surely use an entertainer like you." the first man said.

Luke frowned and raised his eyebrow, curiously.

"Indeed. What's your fee?" the dark haired lady asked, unabashedly.

"Damn it, wife! That's not something that should be discussed now!" her husband admonished her.

"I'm… kind of new to performing for crowds. I appreciate your kind words, but for those events you mentioned, I recommend the Medley Brothers. They're very good." Luke said, smoothly.

"I see. Very well." the man said.

"Could I… maybe get your autograph?" the blonde lady asked.

"For God's sake, Isadora!" her husband admonished.

"He… didn't exactly bring his quill and ink jar with him." Nigel pointed out.

"I'm sure the tavern owner keeps things like that in his office." the blonde lady said. Then, she looked to Luke. "Have you granted autographs before?"

"Well… uhm… " Luke sighed, completely unsure how to respond.

"You might want to check with him later, Miss. We mustn't disturb his… energy. He's preparing to go on stage shortly." Nigel said, concealing the smirk that threatened to form.

"Oh. Oh, my! Alright. Yes, we mustn't distract him." the blonde lady nodded as her cheeks flushed.

"Looking forward to hearing you again, Lucas!" the dark haired lady smiled and winked at him.

Luke nodded, then waved at her with a rueful smile.

Then, their husbands ushered them away from the table.

"Bleeding Classic, Luke!" Ancel laughed, once the four were out of earshot.

"You have fans, kid. Quality! Can't believe I'm saying it, but… thank the Gods for you, or there'd be no amusement at all with this tavern assignment." Nigel scoffed.

"You got that right, mate!" Richard chuckled.

"That may be, but it puts me at a distance from you men, too. It keeps me out of the loop from the conversations you're having with those rebel blokes." Luke pointed out in hushed tones.

"What you're doing is just as important, Luke. It sells our story to them." Ancel said, softly.

"He's right, kid. It makes everything so much more believable." Nigel added.

"Yes, it does. Because, you're very good at it." Richard nodded.

"Cheers, men. I suppose I never thought of it that way." Luke shrugged.

"Good thing for us all that Milord knew about your musical side. He knew it would work." Nigel said, quietly.

At this time, Edeva returned to them carrying a tray.

"Right. I have everything you requested. Thought you were jesting about the diluted ale until Charlie insisted I bring it to you." she shrugged, then placed the pitcher in the centre of the table. Then, she placed mugs in front of the three men, and placed another steaming mug in front of Luke. "And, here's your lemon and honey tea, Sir. You going to serenade us again tonight?" Edeva asked.

"Yes. That's the plan. We've already spoken to Charlie." Luke nodded, then took a sip of the tea.

"Many patrons are going to be glad of that. Nearly every table I've covered tonight has people asking me if you're returning tonight." Edeva smiled.

"Oh. Really?" Luke asked.

"Indeed. You made quite an impression on the patrons last night." Edeva said, then she looked to the others. "I don't know what you fellows are up to, but I'm guessing Charlie and Slayer knows. Try not to create a scene. The patrons are excited to hear this guy." she said, nodding to Luke. "They're going to go mad if their show is interrupted."

"We shall try to keep things going smoothly, love." Nigel smirked.

"Right. The name is Edeva. Or, you can call me 'Miss', if you prefer. Only one man calls me 'love'. That would be my best friend, Slayer, who is manning the door." Edeva said with a knowing quirk of her brow.

"Noted… Miss." Nigel nodded.

"Do you fellows want anything from the kitchen?" she asked.

"No, thank you. The ale is perfect, Edeva." Ancel said.

"Good. Enjoy. I'll be by later to see if you fellows need refills." Edeva smiled, then she took leave of them.

"Damn. Imagine having a best mate who looks like her?" Richard chuckled.

"Right. I bet it's killing him, too." Nigel added.

"Seems to work for them somehow. I can't imagine it, but Slayer said the same. He's very protective of her." Ancel said as he sipped of his diluted ale.

It was at this time, the Sheriff and his men arrived. The Sheriff, Gisborne, and Duke Farnsworth chose plain black leather surcoats with none of the usual adornments like shiny buttons, or fur, to reduce the chances of drawing attention. They kept their hoods up in an effort to conceal their identities. Nottingham looked ahead to the tavern and noticed Safforus speaking with Slayer. He sighed, then he looked to Drake.

"Drake, go over there and tell those two to stop chatting. They shouldn't be seen together. Of every one of us present, you know them both the best." the Sheriff said, nodding toward the door of the tavern. Then, he reached into a leather bag that was strapped to his midnight black stallion, and extracted a crossbow and a quiver containing bolts. "Nic sent this for Safforus. I want Safforus positioned in the trees, well out of view on the left side, which is south. I'm sending Albert to the tree line on the opposite side of the front of the tavern. Get him in position, tell him to only use it if ordered to, then send Slayer to me. You will cover the door for Slayer. It will only take a couple of moments."

"Very well, Milord." Drake nodded, then dismounted from his horse. He quickly secured his horse, then took the crossbow from the Sheriff and headed toward the door.

"The rest of you head inside the tavern. Who knows if those Jesus blokes are already conferring with our men. Albert, you take that crossbow and those bolts that Nic gave to you, and go to the tree line at the front on the north side so you'll have a clear view of who is coming and going. Don't fire any shots unless I tell you to." the Sheriff instructed.

All of the men nodded and proceeded with their tasks.

Shortly after that, Slayer walked further toward the road and approached the Sheriff, who had just dismounted from his horse.

"How can I assist, Milord?" Slayer asked as he drew closer.

"I've got Safforus and Albert out front and concealed, with crossbows. We don't know if we'll be needing to use weapons, but we're prepared. My Lieutenant, the Captain and myself will stay over here. Your job is to stay at the door, unless you're instructed otherwise. We may need your assistance, or, we may not." the Sheriff said.

"Very well." Slayer nodded.

"Are you armed?"

"Yes, Milord."

"Good. Are the same trio the men saw last night here?" the Sheriff asked.

"Not yet, Milord."

"Very well. They'll probably arrive soon. I need a word with Charlie. We'll have to make this quick. Bring him outside and I'll talk to him there by the door. Make haste. We must do this well before those Jesus blokes show." he instructed.

"Of course, Milord." Slayer nodded, then he turned and ran back to the tavern.

Soon after that, the Sheriff was speaking to the tavern owner closer to the door, about ten feet to the south of it, while Slayer resumed his post.

"Good even. I am Charlie, the owner of this establishment. You wished to see me, Milord Sheriff?" Charlie asked.

"Yes. I've a number of my men in there to back up the four on assignment." the Sheriff said.

"I see. I just saw Drake at the door. I'm guessing the five who just came in were with him. They're scattered throughout the tavern right now, Milord. Are… you expecting a fight here tonight?"

"No, Charlie. But, we're ready for that if the cult trio get any funny ideas. The four men you met last night are meeting them to gather information. We expect the trio will most likely be taking the men to another location at some point during their meeting. That may, or may not include Luke."

"Right. The musically gifted one." Charlie smiled.

"Indeed. And, that's only one thing he's good at. He's one of my top men. Has he started with his Bard act yet? I don't hear anything?"

"No, Milord. He's drinking his lemon and honey tea. I will be announcing him when I return. I warn you, it will get quite noisy when I do that. The patrons will be very pleased. Many have been asking after him all night, well before your men arrived. A few have even approached him at their table." Charlie smirked.

"Good. So, he's fitting in rather nicely." Nottingham grinned.

"Quite nicely, Milord. I think the customers will be expecting him to come by regularly. Every one of my servers working this evening have been questioned about him."

"Perfect. Glad to hear that's working out well. If you notice anything suspicious once those blokes arrive, discreetly alert one of my men, but not the three who will be talking to the cult trio. From there, someone needs to get word to Slayer, who will signal to those of us in position outside here." the Sheriff instructed.

"Very well. I best get back inside. And, you must hide yourself before those rebels show." Charlie said.

The Sheriff nodded and the two men parted. The Sheriff swiftly rejoined Gisborne and Duke Farnsworth, as Charlie headed inside the tavern.

The Sheriff, Guy, and Duke Farnsworth stayed hidden in the trees across the road from the tavern, to get a clear view of the area in front of the tavern.

"Are the rebel blokes in there, Milord? Did the tavern owner say?" Duke Farnsworth asked.

"They haven't arrived yet. Seems they plan to keep the men squirming while they wait on them. Too bad for them that our men don't squirm." he smirked with a knowing quirk of his brow.

"Indeed." Duke Farnsworth grinned.

"I don't hear any music, or clapping going on. I take it Luke hasn't stepped onstage yet?" Guy asked.

"That will start any moment now. Charlie said he was going to announce him when he returned inside. Warned me it's going to get loud because the patrons have been asking for him." Nottingham chuckled.

"Good to hear that part of it is going well." the Captain smiled.

Guy began to chuckle, then he turned his head to the right, looking north, when he heard something that got his attention.

"Hope Luke has a few tunes ready. Thought those cult blokes would be here by now?" Nottingham sighed.

"Not completely sure, but this might be them coming south on this road, Cousin. I see three men on horseback. About fifty yards to the north." Guy said, pointing to them.

"Alright. Pay attention, men. Let's see what the bastards are up to." he instructed them.

The tavern was busy again. Charlie was pleasantly surprised by that. The Sheriff's men were all in position scattered throughout the tavern. Most were pretending to drink ale, while Mordrid was sipping water.

The four men at the table were almost becoming restless as they wondered where the Brotherhood men were. Luke was finishing his tea, as Ancel kept looking toward the door.

"They're not going to come to us sooner just because you keep watching for them every three seconds, Ancel." Nigel said.

"Makes me wonder what else they're planning." Ancel huffed.

"Oh. You mean, like… how many more of them will they be bringing with them? Yes. I've had the same thought, mate." Luke sighed, then took another sip of his tea.

"It doesn't matter, kid. We're prepared for anything. That's our motto." Nigel nodded.

"Indeed. And, I hope you're prepared, Luke. Charlie is heading toward the stage. Looks like it's nearly showtime for you." Richard said, nodding in Charlie's direction.

Luke turned to look, then sighed. He picked up his mug and finished the last of his tea.

"Give it to them, kid. Give them another like your opener last night. You do your thing, and we'll handle things here — if they ever show." Nigel sighed.

"I will. And, I'll be watching in case you'll be needing me." Luke nodded.

"Indeed, mate. You've got this." Ancel said.

Some of the patrons began applauding and cheering when they noticed Charlie walk up on the stage, in anticipation of the merriment yet to come.

"Good evening, one and all! We have a treat for you tonight. He made his first appearance last night, and — "

"Will ye ever shut up and bring Lucas out?" one man shouted.

"Lucas! Lucas! Lucas!" the people started chanting very loudly.

Luke looked down to the table with his palm to his forehead and sighed, shaking his head.

"Better get used to it, kid." Nigel scoffed.

"Damn! Do you two hear that?" Guy asked, pointing to the tavern.

"Good God! Luke has a bunch of screaming fans it would seem!" Duke Farnsworth chuckled.

"Hmm. I knew assigning him to pose as a Bard would work, but… wasn't quite expecting this?" Nottingham grinned.

"Alright, everyone! You want it? Then, you got it! Please welcome to the stage, the one and only: Lucas!" Charlie called out to the patrons, then joined them in applause for Luke.

Luke arose from his chair, taking his gittern with him. The volume increased substantially when the patrons first saw him. They were still chanting his name, some were whistling, some cheering. Luke found it quite overwhelming.

"Holy hell, Gerad! They're going bleeding mad over him!" Castor chuckled.

"Damn! I'm glad he sent us here tonight, mate!" Gerad laughed, while clapping along with the other tavern denizens.

"Damn straight, mate! These people wanna make Luke famous!" Castor exclaimed, excitedly.

Luke walked up on the stage, nodding to Charlie as he took position. He noticed Charlie had already placed the same wooden bucket that was used for tips the night previous, onto the stage near the edge of it for the patrons to easily reach it. He positioned the strap of his gittern over his shoulder as the crowd went wild, most of them pushing toward the stage.

Mordrid was nearly knocked over in the rush toward the stage. He shook his head, grinning, then backed up out of the way.

Luke raised his hand with his palm facing out to get them to quiet down.

"Good even. How are you, this evening? My name is Lucas." Luke called out to them.

Everyone started applauding, cheering, whistling, and banging on tables.

"Oh, good! Some of you like to bang things. That's great. We could use a little of that." Luke grinned as he began to strum a six note melody to start his song.

Then, he suddenly stopped, and scratched his head. The crowd responded loudly, most chanting his name, and some were groaning.

"What the hell is he doing?" Nigel asked his comrades at the table.

"Not sure, but it might be part of his act." Ancel said.

"You know, this song works best when it gets loud. Who wants to come up and help me out here? I need a couple of people who like to bang on things, but you need to be able to do it in time." Luke smirked as he called out to the audience.

A number of patrons raised their hands.

"Very well. You, Sir!" Luke pointed to one of the eager patrons. A burly looking lad with a mop of ginger curls. Next, he pointed to a slightly older man whom he recognized from the night before. "And you, Sir! Both of you come and join me."

Both of the men left their places and walked up on the stage.

"I need a couple of moments with these men, everyone. Patience, if you please." Luke shouted to the audience.

Then, he turned away from the audience, despite the audience continuing to cheer, and gestured for the men to come closer. He looked to the ginger haired lad.

"What's your name?" Luke asked.

"It's Rowan." the ginger lad nodded.

"Can you tap a fast beat, Rowan?" Luke asked.

"Indeed. I can." the young lad smirked.

"Good. Count to about fifteen seconds after I start playing, then give me a steady four beats per second. Can you manage that? There's a table right there you can bang on." Luke said, nodding to the table behind them. "Keep your gauntlets on. It will sound better and be easier on your hands."

"Got it." the ginger lad nodded then went to the table near the back of the stage.

"What about me? If he's tapping at four beats a second, how am I needed?" the older man asked.

"Because you're going to bang a bit louder. About every ten seconds, timing it with him, but you won't come in until close to a minute. At forty five seconds from when I start, then you will start, with three loud thuds in succession. Not as fast as he is. One beat per second." Luke instructed him.

"Very well. Good thing I haven't imbibed much yet, so timing won't be a problem." the man smirked.

"Good. And, what's your name?" Luke asked.

"It's Manfred. Most just call me Manny. Nice to meet ye, Lucas." the man smiled.

"Likewise, Manny. Go join Rowan at that table. Follow the same advice I gave him about keeping your gauntlets on." Luke nodded.

The older man nodded, then went back to join the younger man.

The crowd never stopped being loud, but they went wild when the two men were in position at the table, and Luke turned around to face them.

"Alright, everyone. I'm going to get this started with the help of Rowan and Manny behind me." Luke called out. "Be nice to them. It's their debut!" he chuckled.

Then, he started on the melody and a hush fell over the crowd. Rowan started counting in his head once Luke started the first note and exactly at fifteen seconds he started with a very fast beat, exactly as instructed. The crowd started going even more wild. Thirty seconds later, the older fellow, Manny, gave three good bangs on the table and kept it up every ten seconds.

At one minute in, Luke began:

"Gather round,

Hear the tale

Of he who could not fail,

Through the eyes of misled.

Sucking in,

Their goodwill,

Beguiling them all,

With the touch of his hands.

One hand on the yew wood,

The other aims for the death.

"He said,

Come with me,

You must heed,

These words I say,

If you want to see another day." Luke sang as the crowd went mad, and the two men on stage with him kept up with the beats.

"Damn! He's just as good as last night, mate!" Adam exclaimed.

"He would've been so much more entertaining at the celebration we had for Milord last Monday. If only we had known, mate." Drake grinned.

"People are starting to throw their money in that tip bucket again, too. Classic, mate!" Adam chuckled.

"Indeed. Not surprising, though. I'm going to slowly move around in here. I'll see you in a bit, Adam." Drake said.

Adam nodded, then Drake started walking away from him.

"Can't hear all the words very well, but he's sounding good, men!" Duke Farnsworth said to the Sheriff and Guy.

"It does sound good. I suppose it's encouraging he's still playing since I think those blokes that just walked in are that trio the men are meeting. Just based on their descriptions of them." the Sheriff said.

"We should have asked Slayer to let us know." Guy said.

Just then, Slayer walked swiftly toward the road as there was no one waiting to go inside at this moment.

The Sheriff came out from the tree line and looked to Slayer. He mouthed the words, "Was that them?" Slayer nodded and gave a thumbs up. The Sheriff nodded, and Slayer quickly returned to his post.

"There you go, Gis. Right on cue. That was them. Slayer just confirmed it." Nottingham said. He slipped back into his hiding spot.

"Now, we wait." the Captain nodded.

"Damn, that kid is good!" Nigel chuckled, nodding toward the stage.

"I can't tell which one I like better? The tune about lightning, or this one?" Richard said.

"He's done it again, that's for sure. And, looks like our merriment is over, lads. They're coming." Ancel frowned.

"They're here?" Nigel asked.

"Yes. All three of them. Don't see anyone else with them, but they've spotted us and they'll be here in a moment." Ancel said.

"Only them? Astonishing." Nigel sneered.

Luke kept playing between verses, and noticed movement in the corner of his eye. Without missing a beat, or a note, he looked to his right and saw the same rebel blokes from the night previous approaching the table where his comrades waited.

"Fuck." Luke muttered under his breath.

"I see your mate, the Bard bloke, is at it again." Stan, the sour one commented, nodding toward the stage once he approached the table.

"Yes. He's killing it. Again." Nigel smirked.

"Indeed." Stan said. He looked to the dark haired man with him. "Grab us some chairs, Bert. I don't know how far we'll get in here with all of that racket going on, but we need to have a word with these…" he paused then looked to the three men who were seated. He gestured to all of them, waving his hand in a circle, then continued. "Whatever the hell they're supposed to be." he sniggered.

Bert nodded and left to get the chairs.

Stan seated himself in Luke's empty chair and looked to the three men, as Artorus stood beside him.

"Are you blokes ready to get serious?" Stan asked them.

"You see, that's funny." Nigel scoffed.

"What is?" Stan asked.

"You never did specify last night what it is you want from us… specifically." Ancel said.

"You know. I don't think you blokes are nearly as stupid as you're pretending to be. Are you… Aleyn?" Stan asked, suspiciously.

"Damn! He remembered your name, mate!" Nigel chuckled.

Richard sighed and sipped of his diluted ale. It was all he could do not to admonish Nigel as he normally would — using Nigel's actual name.

"I've got all of your names noted… Noah." Stan said to Nigel.

"Good. Then we're off to a good start… Stan." Nigel said.

"What exactly is it you want from us?" Richard asked.

"Simple. We want you three to join us, Walter." Stan said.

Luke was starting into the second verse, while Rowan and Manny kept perfect time. The crowd was clapping along when he began.

"From the dark,

Comes a man,

In the midnight hour,

Gleaming steel in his hand.

Tasting blood,

Thoughts of war,

He rides through the night,

With his blade and a plan.

The archer rallies his comrades,

Raising their spirits high." Luke sang and then shouted to the crowd, "What did he say?"

The crowd responded in perfect time, singing back to him:

"He said,

Come with me,

You must heed,

These words I say,

If you want to see another day!"

"That's right!" Luke shouted back to them, grinning as he continued to play.

"Damn, he's bleeding good!" Alex said to Mordrid who suddenly appeared beside him.

"He is. I agree. I like how he gets the audience involved. Did you notice the rebels arrived?" Mordrid asked.

"Yes. I was just taking a moment to watch Luke." Alex nodded.

"Good. Try to keep your eyes on Ancel, Nigel, and Richard." Mordrid instructed.

Alex nodded, then Mordrid left him.

Meanwhile, Gerad and Castor were in complete awe of Luke.

"Holy hell! He's even better than I imagined!" Gerad chuckled as he clapped along with the patrons, in an effort to blend in.

"Right? Who knew? I'm… kind of speechless. It's mad!" Castor agreed.

Just then, the dark haired man named Bert arrived with two chairs for he and Artorus. They brought their chairs to the table and took their seats, flanking Stan.

"Where are we at, Stan?" Bert asked pointedly, nodding to the Sheriff's men.

Ancel, Nigel, and Richard cast curious glances at one another, keeping it discreet from the Brotherhood men.

"Right at the part we order us a round, Bert. Let's get something for these misfits while we're at it." Stan said firmly, nodding to the Sheriff's men. "Summon a server."

"That won't be necessary." Ancel said, firmly. "My mates and I are set for that. We've nearly a full pitcher here." he nodded to the pitcher in the centre of the table.

Stan leaned in uncomfortably close to Ancel and said, softly, "I insist."

"Ha! Why is it important to you to have us drunk? What manner of codswallop you planning to sell us on, Stan?" Nigel asked pointedly, folding his muscled arms so they could see he could easily take them.

It was a bold move, and he knew it, but Nigel had a plan. He needed things to progress to the stage where he and his comrades would prod the answers out of them. Then, Nigel wanted to get this night behind him. He wasn't sure why, because he knew he could easily best these men, but he kept getting strange senses.

"Noah!" Richard admonished in a whisper. But, then he noticed something, and wondered if his mate had a plan?

"If we're drinking, you're drinking with us. It's been a long day." a beat. "We're drinking." Stan said, gruffly.

At this juncture, Drake was walking by the table, and heard every word of that conversation. He kept his hood up and didn't look at any of the men.

Once he passed the table, he slowly headed for the bar to speak to Charlie.

In the meantime, Luke was beginning the third verse of the tune that had nearly the whole crowd engaged. Patrons were placing money in the wooden bucket again. Rowan and Manny kept perfect time and enhanced the sound.

"Clash of steel,

Clash of wits,

The sky as black as pitch,

Yet they fought through the night.

Lock your doors,

Hide yourselves,

'Til the man with the plan,

Will make everything right.

Mystery man rallies his soldiers,

Raising their spirits high." Luke sang in perfect pitch. "What did he say?" he shouted to the crowd.

"He said,

Come with me,

You must heed,

These words I say,

If you want to see another day." the crowd responded immediately, singing it perfectly.

"Damn, that tune sounds good, even way the hell over here!" Guy said to the Sheriff and Duke Farnsworth.

"Sounds like he's got the crowd singing along, too. Clever! No wonder they've been asking for him." the Captain chuckled.

"I wish I could hear it better. Gis, you must ask him to perform that one at Meridwyn's party." Nottingham said.

"No argument from me, Cousin!" Guy agreed.

A short time later, Edeva arrived to the bar and waved at Charlie to come to her. He nodded and swiftly walked toward her.

"They're asking for mead at the table where the first three men who were seated there already requested that diluted ale that you agreed to." Edeva said with a suspicious quirk of her brow. "Funny how they suddenly want to move on to mead, don't you think, Charlie?"

"Who asked for the mead?" Charlie asked, pointedly.

"One of the fellows that just joined them. The ginger haired one. He's kind of sour." Edeva frowned.

"The three men who were already seated there won't be getting mead, Edeva." Charlie said.

"What?" Edeva asked, curiously.

"We'll give the strongest mead we have to the three new blokes. The other three wearing the face paint and the ear bobs, they won't be getting mead. Trust me. It's all part of the plan." Charlie winked.

"If you say so. I don't know what's going on, but as long as you're in the know, that's fine with me. Am I taking the mead and fake mead to them, or would you rather do it?"

"You will, Edeva. The ones who just joined that table will be suspicious if I take it. You must be certain your giving the correct mugs to the right men, alright? It's crucial." Charlie said, firmly.

"Of course, Charlie. I won't fail you." Edeva smiled.

Charlie nodded, then started preparing the order.

"So, are you going to tell us, or must we wait for the mead?" Nigel asked.

"You're rather impatient, aren't you, Noah?" Stan chuckled.

"We're here now. If you could tell us a bit more it would be helpful. Why draw it out?" Nigel pointed out.

"My mate has a good point." Ancel added.

"You blokes look… like you probably got on the bad side of the Sheriff. Why you're fine with showing yourselves here in such a public place has me stumped, though." Stan pondered, rubbing his chin.

"Simple. When was the last time you saw him deigning to step foot in this place? Nobody recognizes us. Everyone's too focused on that funny looking ginger bloke he's after. His men have been going around town flashing a drawing of the bloke at them. Don't think he's got around to us yet." Nigel said smoothly, with a shrug.

"Ah, but he will." Artorus said. "He always does. And then… what? You want to be fugitives? Or, do you want to join us, and take a stand?"

"Indeed, Artorus. Smartest thing you've said in awhile." Stan said.

"Sounds intriguing. How?" Ancel asked.

"We're planning to break in to his castle." Bert said with a smirk.

"For God's sake, Bert! I'd rather we not discuss that here!" Stan admonished.

"How? How would you know the entry points, or even the floor plans? That is — if you plan to actually get inside of it." Nigel asked.

"That's where an associate of ours came in handy. He works for the bastard. Isn't it bleeding poetic?" Stan grinned.

"Yes. So, it would seem." Ancel nodded. He wanted to throttle the man.

"Whom would that be?" Nigel asked.

"You seriously want me to divulge that — here?" Stan scoffed.

"It would be helpful for us to know." a beat. "We'd like to get in there and break into his vault." Nigel lied, in hushed tones.

Richard raised his eyebrow and looked to his mate, curiously.

Ancel's eyes widened, then he narrowed his grey eyes, wondering what angle Nigel was playing?

"Rather bold if you're on his wanted list." Stan said.

"I'm sure we can handle it." Nigel nodded.

Just then, Edeva appeared at their table holding a tray.

"Fuck." Nigel muttered, softly. He was hoping the name would be given of the one who provided the castle layout to the rebel blokes.

"Your mead is here." Edeva said as she placed the mugs in front of each of the men.

There was no hesitation from her. She knew exactly which mugs contained the liquid that looked like mead, but wasn't mead at all. And, she knew precisely who to give them to.

"Cheers, Miss." Stan said.

Edeva smiled, then took her leave of them.

"Right. Well, cheers to a new alliance, I suppose." Stan said raising his mug.

The rest of them raised their mugs then took a swill of it.

Ancel, Nigel, and Richard immediately detected that they weren't given mead, but they all knew instinctively that Charlie was behind that. They effectively kept their reactions hidden.

Nigel looked down and smirked. He was hoping Drake heard that conversation when he was slowly passing by them. He was glad the plan worked.

"Stay on guard, folks,

Don't close your eyes,

Or you'll see blood,

Come the sunrise.

Mystery man, he works

through the night,

Would you join him

In his plight?" Luke sang, then pointed to the crowd. "What did he say?" he shouted.

"He said,

Come with me,

You must heed,

These words I say,

If you want to see another day!" the crowd responded enthusiastically, in a louder volume.

"God's nightgown! Could your mate be any louder?" Stan huffed, nodding toward the stage.

"If you look around you'll see a number of the tavern denizens are enjoying it." Nigel said, then sipped of whatever fruit drink Charlie must have concocted for him.

"Drink up, Noah. You need to calm the hell down before we proceed." Stan said, sternly.

"Right. It is quite good, isn't it?" Nigel said, nodding to his mug. Then, he picked it up and took a generous swill of it.

Luke finished his song, and the crowd erupted in thunderous applause, whistles and cheers. He looked back to the two men behind him.

"Take a bow, you two!" Luke called to them. Then, he turned back toward the audience. "Let's hear it for Rowan and Manny!" he shouted. He turned to the two men and applauded them.

The crowd continued to applaud and cheer. Soon, the two men were preparing to leave the stage. Luke tapped the young lad, Rowan, on the shoulder as he was just walking past.

The young stalky man with the fiery ginger curls stopped and turned around to face him.

"Why don't you stay and provide the beats? For my second tune." Luke said.

"Really?"

"Yes. You have a rhythm in you. You kept up that insane tempo through the entire song we just performed. I'm not even going to tell you what to do with this, because I think you'll know what to do, and I'm not being funny about it." Luke said with a knowing quirk of his brow.

Rowan smiled, then headed back to the table behind Luke.

Then, Luke began to play a soft melody for a few moments.

"I'm bringing it down, now. Hope you like it. This is called "Night Mage"." Luke said. Then, he began to sing:

"Walked through my door

And stepped across the ashes,

Took the fastest,

Road to get the hell out of there.

A moonless night, and

I was going nowhere,

No reflection,

No direction.

Then in the journey,

I was met with someone…"

Rowan starting taping softly and slowly at this point. Luke smiled and continued.

"Felt the power,

In that hour.

And I can't begin to explain,

I find it hard to say,

Her deep blue eyes, they found me,

and they seized me in their gaze,

I can't begin to tell you,

But should you ever need,

Those sapphire eyes you'll only see if you should meet the

Night mage,

Beautiful sage." Luke sang, in sweet melodic tones.

"I can't believe it. He's so damn good." Castor said.

"Damn right, he is. Have you been watching the table where the men are at?" Gerad asked.

"Of course. Why?" Castor asked.

"That ginger bloke they're talking to seems a bit off. Even from over here." Gerad sighed.

"All we can do is keep watching. We'll respond if we see something." Castor said.

"Indeed." Gerad nodded. "Let's just hope there's no escalation over there."

"Right. So, I take it since you're planning a… very large task ahead, you're… set for weapons?" Ancel inquired in hushed tones.

"Indeed." Stan said, softly.

"We have plenty!" Bert said, excitedly.

"That costs some coin." Nigel remarked.

"No kidding. What are you getting at?" Artorus asked, suspiciously.

"Who… paid for that?" Richard asked.

"You blokes are full of questions this night, aren't you?" Stan said, evenly. It was a statement, not a question.

"Look, I just want to know if I can bring my own blade, or do I have to buy one or more of yours? Is there a fee for the members, or something?" Nigel asked, smoothly.

"Really?" Stan asked, suspiciously.

"Do we look like we're rolling in a bed of gold every night to you, Stan?" Nigel asked with a quirk of his brow.

"He does have a point, Stan." Bert scoffed.

"That's funny. Could've sworn you wanted to know who was backing us?" Stan said, evenly.

"If you wanted us to know, you would tell us." Ancel said.

"Indeed." Stan said, taking a generous swill of his mead.

"Alright. Tell us what you expect of us when you plan this… venture. What are our roles?" Richard asked, then sipped of the tasty, fruity, unknown beverage that was obviously organized by Charlie.

"Patience, Walter. We'll get to that later. Drink up. Then, I'm ordering another round of mead for us all." Stan smirked.

"Cheers, Stan. The mead is very good." Ancel smiled, smoothly.

"Yes, Aleyn. It's quite tasty." Nigel grinned, then took a generous swill of his fruit beverage.

Stan summoned Edeva to request more mead. She took their order and left swiftly to carry out the task.

The patrons were swaying to the melody, and slowly clapping along, as Luke began the second verse.

"People dreaming

Of a better future,

Happy Yuletide,

Happy New Year.

Give them the hope

to make the preacher feel good,

Empty faces,

Hollow phrases… "

Drake stood, watching Luke; mesmerized by the quality of his voice, and the song, and also thinking of his own beautiful night mage. He couldn't believe it. He felt like his mate could see into his mind, and wrote a perfectly apt song about he and Lady Gunilda. The only thing Luke got wrong was her eye colour. Drake shook his head a moment, then glanced at the table where his comrades were entertaining the Jesus blokes.

"In the darkness,

She awaits the summons,

Always waiting,

Like she knew me.

Saw those eyes,

And I was come undone,

She peered into me,

She looked right through me!" Luke ended the verse in a high register, at perfect pitch. His voice echoed beyond the tavern.

The Sheriff heard it, and his eyes widened in awe. Even from where he stood, he could hear Luke's perfect vocals piercing the chill night air.

"Did you hear that? He sounds incredible!" Duke Farnsworth whispered, excitedly.

"I like that one. Definitely getting him to sing that at Meridwyn's party." Guy nodded.

"Good idea, Gis." the Sheriff agreed, grinning.

"And I can't begin to explain,

I find it hard to say,

Her deep blue eyes, they found me,

and they seized me in their gaze,

I can't begin to tell you,

But should you ever need,

Those sapphire eyes you'll only see if you should meet the,

Night mage,

Beautiful sage." Luke sang, then played the melody on his gittern for a few minutes.

Edeva returned to the table and set the mugs in front of each of the men, making sure the non mead option was given to the right three men. Then, she took away the old mugs, adding them to her tray.

"Would you care for anything from the kitchen?" Edeva asked.

"No. We're good, Miss." Stan said, firmly.

Edeva nodded and took her leave of them.

"Are you going to tell us when this little event you're planning is set to take place?" Ancel asked, pointedly.

"As I said, we'll get to the finer points later. I'm not about to get into that here." Stan sighed, then took a swig of the mead.

"It was you blokes that approached us, if you'll recall." Nigel pointed out.

"What's your point, Noah?" Stan asked, directly.

"You're being evasive with a few of our questions." Nigel sighed.

"It's too noisy in here, for starters. Although, it's nice to hear your Bard mate can actually sing for a change instead of screech. There's also too many pairs of ears in here. We'll finish our mead, then we're going to take you blokes to a quieter place we know that's nearby to talk about details." Stan explained.

"Very well." Ancel nodded, then took a swig of the fruit beverage he was given.

"Sounds good." Richard lied.

"What about you… Noah? You seem to be the one who's itching for an argument so far." Stan said with a knowing quirk of his brow.

"I'm fine with that." Nigel nodded. Then, he took a swill of his fruit drink.

"There's just one… little problem with that." Ancel hinted.

"Indeed, mate." Nigel muttered.

"What's that?" Artorus asked.

"You didn't mention anything about our mate, Lucas." Richard said to Stan, nodding toward the stage.

"Isn't he coming with us?" Nigel asked.

"All I know of your mate over there is that he's tall, lean, has dark hair and lip hair, and that when he actually sings he sounds as good as Milo Medley. But, he seems to like to screech a lot." Stan scoffed, then sipped of his mead.

"Too modern for you, Stan? Lucas' song was just a different type of tune. That sounds like something an old bloke would say." Nigel chuckled.

Stan exhaled sharply before responding.

"There's also the matter of him looking oddly familiar. So, no. Your Bard mate won't be joining us." Stan said, firmly.

"Very well." Ancel shrugged, then sipped of his unknown fruit beverage.

Richard and Nigel looked to each other, then to Stan and nodded.

"Good. Drink up, men." Stan instructed them.

"And I can't begin to explain,

I find it hard to say

Her deep blue eyes, they found me,

and they seized me in their gaze,

I can't begin to tell you,

But should you ever need,

Those sapphire eyes you'll only see if you should meet the

Night mage,

Beautiful sage." Luke sang to the audience. The crowd continued to clap along to the melody and sway to the rhythm.

Luke looked to the crowd and spoke. "Sing the chorus with me." he called to them.

The patrons joined him in singing the chorus once more:

"And I can't begin to explain,

I find it hard to say

Her deep blue eyes, they found me,

and they seized me in their gaze,

I can't begin to tell you,

But should you ever need,

Those sapphire eyes you'll only see if you should meet the

Night mage,

Beautiful sage." they all sang together, then the song was complete.

The crowd erupted into loud applause, cheering, and whistling. Some of them began to chant his name. Luke smiled, then he saw movement in the corner of his eye. He glanced to his right, over to the table and noticed the men leaving with the Brotherhood blokes. Next, he saw his comrades preparing to follow them.

He took a bow and thanked the audience, then he gave his regrets saying he needed to leave, as the crowd began to groan. He waved at them, then swiftly left the stage and headed for the door.

Once outside, he headed towards Mordrid, Drake, Adam, Gerad, Alex, and Castor once Slayer pointed them out to him.

He looked in the direction where the patrons tethered their horses, about fifty feet away from them.

"Yeah. That's them over there, Luke. We're just giving them a bit of a head start." Mordrid said, nodding to the group who were mounting their horses.

"Guess they didn't want you to join?" Alex shrugged.

"Makes sense. I made no contact with them at all. To them, I'm a stranger." Luke said, quietly.

"You were amazing, Luke." Gerad smiled.

"Yes. Very good! You must perform at our next party -- whenever that will be." Castor added.

"Damn right! You shouldn't hide it, mate. You're deadly!" Alex chuckled.

"Cheers, men." Luke smiled. Then, he looked back to where his comrades were positioned.

The three men had mounted their horses, and were following the brotherhood blokes on their way toward the road.

Everyone, including Safforus, Slayer, and Alfred watched as the six of them started north on the road.

Mordrid motioned for all of the men, including Slayer, Safforus, and Alfred to follow him toward where he knew the Sheriff and Sir Guy would be. They noticed the Captain begin to follow the men on horseback.

The Sheriff came out from the tree line, as Guy untethered their horses. He walked across the dirt road to meet with his men.

"I've sent the Captain ahead of us. Can you join us, Slayer?" the Sheriff asked.

"Yes, Milord. As soon as the men left their table, Charlie sent my partner out to cover me, right." Slayer nodded.

"Good. Alright, men. Go get your horses. We must make haste, lest those bastards gain too much time on us. Mordrid, Luke, Gerad and Castor, you will lead us." he instructed them.

The men nodded, and ran to get their horses. A few moments later, they all headed north on the road.

Meridwyn frowned when she detected a knock on her door. She set her knitting aside and arose from the bed. She smoothed the skirt of her gown, then headed out of the bedchamber.

A few moments later, she was quite surprised to see who it was.

"Milady Meridwyn, what are you doing out of your bed?" Thomas asked. He sighed and looked to her, scornfully.

"Indeed. I thought I was clear with my instructions, Milady." Lady Margaret said with a knowing quirk of her brow.

"Someone needed to answer the door. My husband is occupied at the moment." Meridwyn explained.

"Someone should be with you for moments like this, Milady. It's best you stay off your feet." Thomas said. "May we come in?"

"Why? You going to strap me down?" Meridwyn sighed.

"I'd like to properly assess you." Thomas said.

"Now?" Meridwyn asked, suspiciously.

"Yes. You had a fright only two nights ago. It would seem Lady Margaret had success in thwarting your labours, but I'd like to decide that for myself. It will be alright. Lady Margaret will be present, of course."

"Well, I should hope so, since Guy cannot be here." she huffed. "Very well. Come in." she relented, holding the door and gesturing for them to enter.

Thomas asked to see her in the bedchamber, so that he could properly assess her in a reclined position. He sat on the bed beside her and nodded to the knitting that was placed on the bed to the other side of her.

"Is that what you were doing when we knocked?" he asked.

"Yes. I was reclined on this boring bed, knitting."

"That's good. Try to remain quiet, Lady Meridwyn."

"For how long? I've followed all of the instructions to the letter, and there hasn't been pain since very early yesterday morning. Nearly two days. I've a dining engagement to attend in three days time." Meridwyn nodded.

"It's probably best if you remain in here on that — " Thomas began, but was cut off.

"I don't care if Guy has to carry me to the Dining Hall, I'm going to this feast. Prince John and his wife, the Countess of Gloucester are invited, as well. I'm not missing that!" Meridwyn said, firmly.

"We shall see, Milady." Thomas said.

"Did you honestly come by at this time of day just to see me?" Meridwyn asked, curiously.

"No. I have one other to see, and then I'm going to quiz Lady Margaret on her studies." Thomas nodded.

"Isn't that a strange time to be quizzing her?"

"I'm going to be minding the wee laddie tonight — as long as you stay quiet. He had an awful night last night, so, I'm not expecting the night to be peaceful. We don't expect to be late." Lady Margaret explained, nodding to Thomas.

"I see. Who is the other person you need to see?" Meridwyn asked, curiously.

"You know I cannot divulge that, Milady." Thomas frowned.

"Perhaps you should see to Isabelle." Meridwyn advised.

"Really?" Thomas asked, curiously. Isabelle was precisely whom he was planning to visit next.

"She came to see me earlier. She was as white as the driven snow. She hasn't been looking right for awhile." Meridwyn said.

"Duly noted, Milady Meridwyn." Thomas said.

Lady Rhiannon was standing on the balcony, the hood of her black velvet cape was pulled over her head. She held her baby in her arms, standing a few inches away from the parapet.

The child was alert. Wrapped in a warm and soft blanket, he was holding his teddy and playing with the black satin ribbons on her cape; yet, every now and then, he would look up at the waxing moon in the sky, then down below to the courtyard where the combination of moonlight and blazing torches gave it an even more grand appearance than it was during daylight hours.

"Take a good look, my sweet darling boy. This is home. You are a Nottingham. You are son of the Sheriff of Nottingham, and you will fill his boots one day. It's a most important role, my sweet." Rhiannon smiled as she kissed his forehead.

The child looked up at her and softly touched her cheek.

"Yes, sweet boy. It is I." she whispered.

He gazed beyond the parapet, looking down to the courtyard. One of the groomers from the stables, who also was employed as a trainer, was walking a horse, heading toward the portcullis.

"You're in Nottingham Castle, sweet boy. This will be yours someday; hopefully, far into the future. Your father is a man to respect. He's out there somewhere, defending us this very moment. We must always defend Nottingham Castle, and our family. Family is everything, son." Rhiannon whispered.

"Ya." the child said quietly with a smile as he looked at her. Then, he began to toy with her ribbons once more.

"Clever boy! It's like… you understood that? I know it's just coincidence, but I'd like to think that some part of your soul comprehended everything I said." a beat. "Tell your soul: I'm proud of you, darling." she smiled.

She rocked him a little while, breathing in the crisp autumn breeze, taking in the fragrance the damp air clung to, then carried him back inside and walked toward the private chambers.

Duke Farnsworth had arrived to the warehouse. He tethered his horse within the trees, then stealthily walked closer to the warehouse, being on the lookout for men who might be guarding it outside.

On the south side of it there were a few windows. He crept to the middle one, then slowly peered inside.

His eyes widened in response.

He moved away from the window, then slowly headed back toward the road.

"Curses!" he muttered, once he was well away from the warehouse.

He headed into the trees, using them as a cover on his way toward the dirt road.

Inside the warehouse, Ancel, Nigel, and Richard were standing with Artorus over by the desk, as Stan and Bert were speaking with four other of the Brotherhood rebels, closer to the door.

Nigel decided to use this moment to distract Artorus, so that Richard could complete his task. He looked to Richard, nodding to the desk, then Artorus. Richard nodded. Then, Nigel proceeded, as Ancel moved to block the view from the six men who were gathered near the door.

"Say, what's in those crates back there, Artorus?" Nigel asked, pointing to them, and walking closer toward him. "Are those where your weapons are kept?"

"You're quite perceptive." Artorus said, dryly.

"Looks like those crates would hold a good number of them. Is there… a lot of men in this… group of yours? Or, just the ones who are here now?" Nigel asked.

At this moment, Richard was able to slip the scroll into the desk drawer. He did so quietly, avoiding detection. He was able to hear a few things the group were discussing by the door. He listened for a couple of moments, then quickly moved back beside Ancel, a few feet from the front of the desk.

"There's more, but I won't say any more. Not until those fellows join us." Artorus said, nodding to the group speaking by the door.

"I see." Nigel nodded.

Just then, Bert and Stan, and the four men they had been conferring with walked toward them. They stopped when they were six feet away.

"Any problems, Artorus?" a tall man with shoulder length brown hair and a goatee beard asked.

"No, Gunter. Everything is in order."

Ancel, Nigel, and Richard looked down and to each other, casting knowing looks to one another. Then, they looked up to the men standing before them.

"Is this where we get the introductions out of the way?" Nigel smirked.

"That depends." Gunter said. "Stan and Bert tell me you blokes had a lot of suspicious questions for them tonight." Gunter said with a suspicious quirk of his brow.

"It was your men who approached us last night. Your man, Stan, wants us to join you in an incursion at Nottingham Castle. Naturally, we had a few questions for them." Ancel explained.

"You see, that's interesting. Perhaps wanting to know when it occurs, and what you'd all be doing would be good questions to ask." Gunter began.

"Indeed. Those were two of our questions." Richard added.

"Right. You must be Walter. Indeed. Those questions are understandable. Trying to prod the information out of them about our associate at the castle, and wanting to know who provides the funding for our weapons is well beyond normal questions!" Gunter spat.

"We explained all of that." Nigel pointed out.

Gunter spoke to Stan while side eyeing Nigel.

"Is he the one you were telling me about?"

"Indeed." Stan nodded with a frown.

"Right. Noah, is it?" Gunter asked, gruffly.

Nigel nodded.

"Those had to be the most contrived explanations I've ever heard. Really? You plan to break into the Sheriff's vault? All three of you are wearing finely tailored calfskin leather. And, you're hard up for coin at the same time? Why would you need to steal if you can afford such fine leather… Noah?" Gunter asked, pointedly.

"They have fine horses, too, Gunter." Bert added.

"I noticed that, too." Stan sneered.

"How do you think we paid for these surcoats? And, our horses? With the money we stole. We don't need it so much, as we now like the thrill." Nigel said, smoothly.

"Indeed. Noah's right. It gives one quite the rush." Ancel nodded.

"And, the questions about who supplied our weapons?" Gunter demanded.

"If you're planning an incursion, you're going to need a lot of men, and plenty of weapons." Ancel pointed out.

"Right. But, since you're new around here, that's none of your concern." Stan said, sharply.

"Wrong. We're already wanted. You're asking us to risk our necks for whatever reason you have a bee in your helm with the Sheriff about." Nigel pointed out. He hoped this would be over with soon. All night his thoughts kept turning to Aeleanna. He was looking forward to seeing her later.

"I don't like this, Gunter. These blokes are shady as hell." a stalky bald man commented with a frown.

"Indeed. I'm starting to think that, too." Gunter nodded.

"What shall we do about that, Gunter?" Stan asked.

"Perhaps we should just be on our way?" Ancel suggested.

"Good idea, mate!" Nigel nodded.

The three men started to move slowly away from the rebels.

"You're not going anywhere." Gunter said, gruffly.

The men arrived to the warehouse, slowing their horses. Duke Farnsworth was there to greet them right at the roadside.

"Ancel was right, Milord. There's four more of the rebels inside there." Duke Farnsworth said, nodding behind him to the warehouse.

"What did you see? Did you hear any names?" the Sheriff asked, pointedly.

"I looked through a window on the south side. Was too far from them to hear anything, but our men were standing with the tall blonde bloke, several feet away from where the other six were huddled. They were looking at our men funny, Milord. I think they're on to them and deciding what to do with them, from the looks of it." the Captain sighed, shaking his head.

"Fuck." Mordrid muttered.

The Sheriff instructed the men to take their horses into the tree line and secure them. The Sheriff and Guy followed, and once all the horses were quickly tethered, all of them raced toward the warehouse. Mordrid and Luke were sent to look through windows.

"There's really no need to detain us, just because we're not seeing eye to eye." Richard said.

"Really." Gunter sneered. "You bastards are no more wanted than my wife. You just thought you could look the part trying to dress like highwayman. Thieves aren't generally known to ask so many pointed questions." he spat.

"Really? Guess you never met any clever ones, then." Nigel scoffed.

Gunter drew his sword, a scowl upon his face as he looked to Nigel.

"You're a smart arse, aren't you? It's going to be amusing watching you die." Gunter hissed.

"Hmm." Nigel muttered, then looked to his comrades. "What do you think, mates? Time for Plan B?" Nigel asked, his right palm on the pommel of his sword since the moment Father Tuttle's henchman drew his.

Then, Nigel noticed his comrades had done the same.

"Indeed." Ancel seethed.

The three men unsheathed their swords, brandishing them, then pointing them toward the rebels. Their swords, made from Spanish steel, gleamed brightly in the torch light.

"Their steel, Gunter. Those are castle forged!" Bert exclaimed in a rage.

"I knew it! You're bleeding Black Knights!" Stan shouted, pointing his sword at them.

"Explains the sodding questions!" Gunter spat.

"Artorus, you imbecile! You invited the bastard's men into our circle! Curses!" the stalky bald man shouted.

"Relax, Fulke. We can take these blokes. Easily." Gunter smirked.

"Wanna bet?" Nigel hissed.

With his sword held in his hand, Nigel took a sudden sprint towards a table just ahead. Ancel, in particular, was perplexed, wondering what Nigel was trying to do.

Richard smirked, knowingly.

Nigel jumped and landed on both feet on the table, which was at least three and half feet from the floor. Then, he ran toward the edge and lept off the table. He aimed his feet toward one of the men after Gunter and Stan jumped out of way, and simultaneously took a swing at Bert using his sword, right before landing on his feet in a perfect fighting stance, facing Bert.

Ancel was fighting between keeping his eyes on his targets, and marvelling at Nigel, in awe. It was then he decided this obstacle course coming to their training area was going to be a good thing.

The first man Nigel managed to kick was already on the floor, weakened and groaning. Bert pointed his sword toward Nigel.

Luke and Mordrid ran back to the rest of the men who were now gathered near the front.

"What's going on, men?" the Sheriff asked, urgently.

"The Captain was right. Those blokes are on to them." Mordrid said.

"There's a bloke I don't recognize who seems to be making all of the calls in there, Milord. He's got shoulder length brown hair and a beard similar to yours. Except… his needs much work, and I'm not being funny about it." Luke sighed.

Alex began to quietly chuckle.

Guy and the Captain looked to the ground and grinned.

"Yes, Luke. The point, lad! What's going on in there? Are they fighting in there?" the Sheriff asked, nodding to the warehouse.

"That bloke might be that Gunter Thorne man you're after, Milord. He drew his sword, and pointed it toward Nigel." Luke began with a frown.

"That's when we ran back to alert you, Milord." Mordrid said.

"It hadn't started when we left, but it's about to begin in there. Our men had their hands on the pommels of their swords when that man reached for his." Luke added.

"Indeed." Mordrid nodded.

"Then, we won't waste any time, men. Here's what we're going to do… " the Sheriff began to quickly brief them on the plan, addressing all of them.

Back inside the warehouse, Nigel was engaged in a duel with Bert, as Ancel was fighting off another rebel. Richard was fighting against the bald man, Fulke, and Artorus.

The sound of steel clashing was almost deafening. Finally, Nigel managed to weaken the blade of Bert's sword. It was broken off near the hilt. Bert looked to Nigel in horror, as Nigel ran him through. It was then that Gunter and Stan charged toward Nigel.

Just then, the men had started to slowly enter through the front door. The Sheriff, Guy, the Captain, Mordrid, and Luke formed a line at the front, with Alfred and Safforus flanking them on either end, with their crossbows in hand. The rest of the men were behind them.

They observed all three men engaged in sword fighting. Ancel had just ran one man through. Two others were on the floor, laying in pools of blood. Richard was fighting off Artorus and a bald bloke. At the same time, Nigel leaped on to a table with great ease and agility, proceeding to run down the length of it, then taking a giant leap onto another table. From there, he leaped toward Stan and Gunter. Both men got their swords knocked from their hands, and they responded by running to a back room.

Nigel was about to go after them when Richard called to Nigel, warning him that Artorus was aiming for him, while Richard fended off the bald man.

"Now, Albert. Take your shot at that blonde bloke going after Nigel." the Sheriff commanded.

Alfred nodded. He quickly loaded, aimed, then hit the release mechanism on the crossbow Nichol had given to him for this mission. Then, he fired two more shots after that.

Artorus was hit in three places. The base of his neck, a spot near his shoulder, and his chest. He immediately fell to the floor, lifeless.

Fulke, the husky bald man was distracted in his duel with Richard, when three bolts shot past him in rapid succession. Richard had just managed to knock the sword out of the man's hand. So, now, Fulke had a longbow loaded and ready. He turned toward the door, not noticing that Nigel was heading toward the Sheriff and the others, swiftly, yet stealthily, walking close to the north wall.

Fulke began to walk closer toward the Sheriff, then stopped about fifteen feet away. Ancel and Richard began to creep up behind him.

"There he is. The man of the hour." Fulke hissed, nodding to the Sheriff.

Next, it was as if things moved in slow motion, yet at the speed of light all at once. Before the Sheriff could respond, draw his sword, or command either of his crossbowmen to fire shots, the bald man swiftly aimed his loaded bow and released the arrow at the Sheriff.

Out of nowhere, it seemed to the Sheriff and his men, Nigel leaped through the air, becoming a human shield for his employer. He landed on his feet in front of the Sheriff, facing the arrow. Everyone watched him in complete and utter astonishment at his performance, and his valour. Many of them let out an audible gasp.

"Nigel! NO!" Richard shouted.

It hit him one second later in the abdomen. Nigel looked down at it. Then, he looked up, a strange serene smile upon his face. Immediately, the image of the raven that was perched upon his window ledge that very morning flashed in his mind, along with every happy memory all at once — and many moments with his beautiful paramour. And then, he grew angry, even as a panic set in. Just as he finally figured out who the true love of his life was, that bald guy just took it away — in Nigel's mind.

"Leanna!" he whispered, urgently. Then, everything turned to black, and he began to slump.

Nottingham reached out swiftly, grabbing Nigel under his arms and assisting him to the floor.

"You fucking bastard!" Nottingham looked up and roared at the bald man, completely enraged.

And then… a battle cry, with an unearthly quality to it as Richard let out a wail. He charged toward the bald man, jumped on him, and ran him through with his sword, as tears began to blur his vision. The man let out a yelp then fell in a heap to the floor.

"God damn it, Nigel!" Richard exclaimed, looking to his friend who was laying on the floor.

The Sheriff bent down on one knee to more closely see how Nigel was faring. He removed his gauntlet from his right hand and held it an inch from Nigel's nose and mouth. Then, he felt his forehead. The Sheriff exhaled a long sigh.

"We can still save him, men, but, we must work fast. He is breathing normally for now, and his skin is warm." Nottingham said.

"Milord? I saw a wagon parked to the side of this place when we were coming in, right." Slayer suggested.

"And, I often keep a blanket attached to my saddle. Someone was kind enough to keep Emma warm with one when she lay dying. Even though it was nearly summer solstice, she got very cold before… she passed." Luke sighed.

"Good. Slayer and Luke, bring that wagon around to the front, as well as your blanket, Luke." he instructed them.

Luke and Slayer ran to carry out the task.

"Alright men, I want those crates of weapons taken out of here right now. We're shoving those to the back of the wagon." Nottingham said, pointing to the crates at the back of the room.

"Must we concern ourselves with that? It will waste time when Nigel needs — " Duke Farnsworth started to say.

"We're taking those sodding weapons out of here! They will be placed at the back of the wagon. Nigel will be at the front, so that he can be moved out of it faster at the castle. Someone needs to ride with him to make sure he doesn't try to pull that cursed arrow out of him." Nottingham said, firmly.

"Very well." the Captain nodded.

Mordrid, Drake, Adam, and Gerad went to retrieve the crates.

"I'll ride with him, Milord." Richard nodded, angrily wiping a tear from his eye.

"You might be too close to him, Richard." the Sheriff parried.

"He would do it for me, Milord Sheriff." Richard said.

"Very well. He's out of it now, but should he awaken, he's going to try to pull that arrow out. It's purely instinctual, and natural. Trust me." he exhaled sharply. "No matter how much he begs, and how much he tries to fight you on it, you must not let him touch that arrow. Only Thomas can remove it! Understood?" he said, firmly.

"Yes, Milord. If I have to knock him out again, I'll do it to keep him from touching it." Richard said, adamantly.

"Good. It's crucial, Richard. He will surely die if he tries to remove that damn thing." the Sheriff said with a knowing quirk of his brow.

"Noted, Milord." Richard nodded. Then, he knelt beside his friend.

Richard placed his hand on Nigel's shoulder as he took in the sight of his normally strong and hale mate. Now, he was white as death, his lips bluish in colour.

"God damn it, mate. Fight like fucking hell!" he whispered urgently into Nigel's ear.

At this point, Mordrid, Gerad, Drake and Adam we're heading toward the door with the crates.

"Good. Take them out. Two of you will load those in the wagon. Have Luke report to me at once. The other two who won't be loading those crates will swiftly get Nigel's and Richard's horses. You will quickly hitch those to the wagon along with whatever horses are already pulling it. The faster, the better." he instructed, firmly.

The four men nodded, then left quickly to carry out the task.

A couple of minutes later, Luke ran into the warehouse.

"Luke, you're going to drive that wagon. You can probably move it the fastest. Richard will be in the wagon with Nigel, keeping watch over him, and making damn sure he won't pull out that arrow if the bumps on the road jolt him awake." Nottingham instructed.

"Of course, Milord." Luke nodded.

The Sheriff looked down to Richard, including him in his next instructions.

"As soon as you men get to the portcullis, tell one of the men there to summon for Thomas at once! Lady Margaret is present at the castle for a few reasons, and Robert's wife, Lady Isabelle, has experience in these matters, as well as Mortianna. So, Luke, you will organize that with Robert and Nic, or the Scribe if you see him first. I want Lady Margaret, Lady Isabelle, and Mortianna on it — steadily until Thomas can get there. Luckily, he lives close by now, but timing is crucial for Nigel. While that's taking place, Richard will carry Nigel to his rooms. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Milord." Luke nodded.

"Of course, Milord." Richard nodded.

"Whatever those women need, you will assist them, Luke. Understood?"

"It will be done, Milord." Luke nodded.

"Is the wagon out front?" he asked.

"It is, Milord." Luke nodded.

"Good. Ride like the wind, Luke." Nottingham instructed.

Duke Farnsworth bent down on the other side of Nigel and looked across to Richard.

"You're going to be carrying him into the castle and up to his rooms, lad. I'll get him into the wagon. Follow me." the Captain said gently, placing a hand on Richard's shoulder.

"Thank you, Duke. Be careful with him." Richard cautioned.

Duke Farnsworth nodded, then swiftly, yet gently managed to lift Nigel, carrying him in both arms so as not to disturb the arrow. Nigel was like a limp rag doll in his arms, which startled the men who were gathered there.

"Damn. Stay strong, mate!" Castor said, placing a hand on Nigel's shoulder before Nigel was carried away.

"Fight, Nigel! You must, mate!" Alex whispered, urgently.

"Fuck." Guy muttered.

"You were… fucking amazing, Nigel. Get well, so that you can teach us your moves." Ancel leaned in and whispered into Nigel's ear.

Duke Farnsworth proceeded to carry Nigel out of the warehouse. Luke led them, and Richard walked beside the Duke and Nigel.

"Castor, Alex, and Albert, your job is to burn this sodding hell hole right down to the ground, including the bodies that are in here as soon as the rest of us leave it." the Sheriff instructed, firmly. "I want everything in here turned to ash." he added.

"Yes, Milord." Castor nodded.

"We will, Milord." Alfred said.

"Of course." Alex agreed.

"Ancel, you're going to take Luke's horse with you." he said.

"Very well, Milord." Ancel nodded.

"Ancel, incidentally — who were the two blokes who got away? Do we have names?" the Sheriff asked, hurriedly.

"Yes. The shorter fiery ginger bloke with the sour expression is Wolfstan Cross. The other one? Turns out that is Gunter Thorne, Milord." Ancel huffed.

"Never mind, Ancel. We're going to get those two fuckwits. All of you performed well tonight."

"I thank you, Milord. Nigel was the most outstanding in performance, truthfully, well before his… heroic act." Ancel said, stopping himself from calling it a 'final act', because he refused to believe that a man who could fight like that would be taken out like this.

"Indeed. We witnessed some of that. It did not go unnoticed. He shall know about it if he recovers. And, that obstacle course of his is going to be named in his honour, regardless of the outcome." the Sheriff said.

"I'm hoping it's a good sign he didn't leave behind… too much blood." Guy muttered, nodding to Nigel's blood on the floor.

"It's not exactly a small amount, either, Gis. You saw him. He looks like death! Any amount of blood spilled from my men is too much." Nottingham huffed. Then, he looked to Safforus. "I want you and Slayer to search for those pair of bleeding fuckwits who got away." he instructed.

"Very well, Milord Sheriff." Safforus nodded.

"They're going to pay for this! And, we still need answers, as far as I know!" he sighed, then turned to Ancel. "Ancel?" he asked.

"Oh, we tried, Milord. We tried every possible angle. We didn't get a damn thing out of them, and that's when Stan must have got suspicious. The moment we arrived here, he and Bert immediately met with Gunter and the other three, away from us. Artorus stayed with us while they conferred." Ancel spat.

"We'll have a briefing later, Ancel. It's fine. You men tried, and then you all fought like hell. At least we now have that Gunter bloke identified." the Sheriff said.

"Thank you, Milord." Ancel nodded.

"Something has been nagging at me, however." he frowned.

"What is that, Milord?" Ancel asked.

"Why do you suppose those two who got away stood and did nothing while Nigel was fighting against that dark haired bloke?" the Sheriff asked, curiously.

"Truthfully? I think they were drunk." Ancel scoffed.

"Really?"

"Yes. There's a story behind that. I'll cover it at the briefing." Ancel smirked.

"Good." the Sheriff nodded.

Ancel nodded, then headed toward the door.

Outside, the extra two horses belonging to Nigel and Richard had been successfully hitched to the wagon by Safforus and Slayer. Mordrid, Drake, Adam, and Gerad had finished loading the crates. They stood at the end of the wagon as Duke Farnsworth gently laid Nigel into it. He grabbed the folded blanket that Luke had placed there and covered Nigel with it. Then, Richard climbed in and sat beside his mate.

Mordrid sighed and ran his fingers through his flaxen blonde hair, as he looked upon Nigel.

"Damn it, Nigel! You're the best warrior of us all. Don't leave us, you hear me?" Mordrid said to him.

The other three men looked upon Nigel with grave expressions on their faces.

"Ready back there, Richard?" Luke called to him from the driver's seat.

"Ready!" Richard called.

Luke began to guide the wagon toward the dirt road. Once he was there, the wagon sped off south on the road toward Nottingham Castle, fast as lightning.

Slayer nodded to Safforus to follow him. They followed Ancel as he was heading to the area where the horses belonging to the backup team were tethered.

"Ancel?" Slayer called out.

Ancel stopped, then turned around to face him.

"What is it, Slayer? I need to get Luke's horse as well as my own." Ancel said.

"I didn't get a good look at them two blokes that got away, right. Saffy probably got a better look since he had that crossbow aimed in their direction, but…"

"I didn't get the best look at them, either. I could only see their profiles." Safforus frowned.

"Can you briefly describe them to us? Saffy and I are going to look for them." Slayer explained.

"Right. He did say he wanted you to search, didn't he?" Ancel sighed. "Yes. There's two of them. Stan Cross is the shorter, bulkier one with bright ginger hair. You've seen him, Slayer. You let him into the tavern the last two nights." he said with his eyes narrowed, curiously.

"True, but when I'd seen him at the door his head was covered with a hood." a beat. "Got it. A ginger bloke who is short and bulky. That means he can't run worth a damn, right?" Slayer said with a knowing quirk of his brow.

"They won't be running, Slayer. If they got out of the warehouse, they took their horses." Safforus said.

"Wrong. There's only two horses missing over there now, from when we first arrived — when those escapees were inside that warehouse. The two that are missing were just hitched to the wagon — Richard's and Nigel's horses." Slayer said, nodding to the area where Ancel's horse, as well as the rebel's horses were tethered.

"How in the devil would you know that detail?" Ancel asked.

"I counted them when we arrived." Slayer said.

"I see. Good call. Now, the other one is Gunter Thorne, the leader's henchman. Tall, shoulder length brown hair, and a poorly groomed goatee." Ancel said.

"Sounds like quite the pair." Safforus scoffed.

"Damn straight. We'll find them in no time, Saffy, right? I don't know what use they were, anyway? They mostly just stood around holding their blades, but they acted like a bleeding pair of drunks when Nigel jumped on them, right? That was damn near bleeding biblical." Slayer smirked.

"I concur." Safforus grinned.

"That's because they were drunk, Slayer. Charlie made sure of that. I think your friend, Edeva, had something to do with that, too. When Stan insisted on ordering us all mead, Nigel, Richard and I did not get mead. But, they did. I think Charlie gave them the strong stuff, too." Ancel grinned.

"That's clever! Cheers to me mate, and Charlie!" Slayer chuckled.

"Indeed." Ancel nodded.

"Thanks, Ancel. We'll get those bastards. They need to pay. I hope Nigel will recover." Safforus sighed.

"I didn't much like him at first, since he was mouthy with Luke. But, by the time I had contact with him earlier tonight, he was cordial. Was finally starting to tolerate the bloke. He's a hell of a fighter, though, right? Mad respect to him for that. Hope he pulls through." Slayer added.

"That is the plan. The Sheriff's personal medicus will be seeing to him. The medicus is very good." Ancel said.

"Good. We'll be off. We've a pair of drunk wasters to catch." Slayer said.

The men bid goodnight, then Slayer and Safforus took leave of him.

Castor, Alex, and Alfred stayed behind to carry out the Sheriff's order. The Sheriff had a quick word with them, then he, Guy, and the Captain headed out the door to join the rest of the men. Ancel was waiting to meet them, already seated upon his horse, with a rope attached to Luke's. Mordrid, Drake, Adam, and Gerad were approaching them upon their horses. They pulled their horses to a halt once they reached them.

"Go on ahead, men. We'll be right behind you. Mordrid and Ancel, once you get there, see that things are running smoothly with Nigel. Make sure that Thomas is on his way, and the three women I mentioned are on it. That would be James' wife, Lady Margaret, Robert's wife, Lady Isabelle, and Mortianna, since you probably missed that part, Mordrid. Luke will be assisting them, too." the Sheriff said, firmly.

"Of course, Milord." Ancel nodded.

"It will be done, Milord. And… what should we do about… Richard?" Mordrid asked.

"I don't think he should be assisting the way Luke will be, Milord. Those two are best mates." Duke Farnsworth said.

"Agreed. He shouldn't be in Nigel's chambers when Thomas and the ladies are working on him." the Sheriff agreed. Then, he looked back to his men. "Keep him outside Nigel's rooms. Depending on how things go, I might need to ask him where to find Nigel's father and brother. Also, if I'm to visit this Aeleanna woman to give her news, I want Richard with me. I got the impression he knows her." he sighed.

"You're right, Milord. Richard does know her. I've heard them both speak of Lady Aeleanna in the past, well before today." Mordrid nodded.

"That is correct, Milord." Gerad agreed.

"Good. Also, when we have our briefing, Ancel, Richard will be joining us. We need to help him to not fall apart. We'll do that after we've had an update from Thomas." the Sheriff said.

"Noted, Milord." Ancel agreed.

"We'll see what we can do to cheer Richard a bit, Milord." Gerad said.

Drake and Adam nodded in agreement.

"We'll take care of it, Milord." Mordrid nodded.

"Slayer and Safforus started the search for the two that got away, Milord. They have descriptions of the blokes. We'll be off, we'll take care of these matters, and we'll meet you there." Ancel said.

"Good." Nottingham said.

A short time after that, he, his Lieutenant, and his Captain were racing north toward Nottingham Castle. The Sheriff was hoping against hope that the men wouldn't be waiting long on Thomas. Nigel needed help, and fast. He needed Nigel to win this fight. He was too damn valuable.