Dawn had just broken a short time ago. The day was overcast, the cumulus clouds were darkened, threatening rain later this day. Ancel guessed rain would appear around midday. This was a benefit for hunting conditions, in his opinion. Ancel was a mile due north from Hood's former outlaw camp, searching for small game to kill for himself and… he had concluded, his former mate. He informed Hamon last night that he would take care of the hunting, starting pre-dawn. Ancel breathed a concealed sigh of relief when Hamon agreed to it.
Ancel wanted this time to himself to ponder a few things. Firstly, the matter of Hamon. Ancel had been witness to things he didn't like, yet went along with. However, when they arrived to Nottingham, everything began to implode when Hamon discovered Hestia's home was burned to the ground.
Ancel felt sympathy for him at that point, thus was loyal to him. It was indeed troubling, the question of where Hestia is, and is she still breathing? Ancel suspected she had perished in the fire; yet, he could not prove this theory because where was her body? There would normally be a charred corpse found in the ashes, or a rotting body with, perhaps, some burns present; the individual, being overcome with smoke and heat, would succumb even if their body did not burn. He knew this for certain from personal experience. So, where was she, then? Indeed, none of this made any sense, but there was still no justification for what Hamon was plotting. It didn't take long for Ancel's loyalty to wane.
Up until now, he played the loyal fool. Played it to the hilt because, in fact, Ancel was no fool. He was playing a part to gather more information in an effort to stop this nonsense. In actual fact, his plan was to present his findings to the Sheriff of Nottingham, as Ancel was ambitious to join the Black Knights. He had been thinking of how to broach this new path of possible employment even before they left Portsmouth, but he never shared that fact with anyone. He presumed most of the Knights in the Sheriff's militia were appointed by the Sheriff himself, but he had hoped to request a position.
Ancel was a very private person. He kept his thoughts and tactics to himself and played the game that way. Unlike Hamon, who gave away every next move of his plan to murder the Sheriff's lady, specifically, in a fire. Speaking freely to someone he assumed was loyal and trustworthy. He didn't know Ancel was a consummate Investigator, having learned from one of the best of them.
Hamon was beyond reason now. Completely obsessed with his plans ever since he saw the ashes of his sister's home. Yet, it couldn't even be justified by a mad person, because where was the proof Hestia burned in that fire, anyway? Where was her body?
Ancel sighed as he thought about it while quietly stepping through the path within the forest to hunt for rabbits. He didn't like what he had been witness to since then. He was disturbed by this obsession Hamon had with Lady Rhiannon Wordsworth. Hamon had never even met the lady, nor laid eyes upon her. Ancel had initially hoped this was only a passing fancy, and that Hamon would let it go. But, he didn't. He never tired of it. In fact, he increasingly became more focused on it; and now, Ancel was finally seeing things with absolute clarity, following several weeks of suspicion. Because now, Hamon wanted to harm Rebeccah, as well! He was getting out of control and Ancel didn't want any part of this. And while he silently loaded the longbow with an arrow and took aim, he made a decision. He focused on the brown rabbit some thirty yards away, took a slow breath, fired the shot, and felt freedom as the arrow hit its target.
He was finished with this. Hamon was not his mate. Hamon had taken entire leave of his senses and was now a danger to innocent ladies, just like that recent bloke who had brought several maidens from three Counties to their demise. Ancel made the decision that the time to break ties with Hamon was now, but he wouldn't let Hamon know. He would find a way to protect the ladies from harm. The only questions were how, and should he involve the Sheriff?
He was certain he'd been added to the Sheriff's wanted list by now, but so far his only crime had been allying himself with Hamon. Except for that time he threatened one of the Knights in the Sheriff's militia with his dagger. If he spoke to the Sheriff about this, would the Sheriff dismiss any pending charges against him? What if he told him the truth about why he stuck with Hamon? Would the Sheriff even believe it — Ancel's ambition to become a member of the Black Knights? Would he believe that Ancel was investigating, rather than assisting Hamon?
Regardless, he had to come up with a strategy to stop Harmon's plans, at least for today. There was not much time afforded Ancel to strategize further beyond this day, so he would have to work in steps for the time being. He reached down to grab a hold of the rabbit, removed the arrow, and smiled as an idea formed.
Lady Meridwyn found Lady Rhiannon seated upon a stone bench in the gardens early that morning. Rhiannon was reading her book and drinking Mortianna's batwing tea from the Sheriff's flask as it was easier to carry with her. Both ladies looked lovely in their newly created pieces by Madam Oberon. Lady Meridwyn wore a deep wine coloured cotton and wool blend gown that was trimmed in ivory lace. Her fiery red tresses were fashioned into one elegant braid in back of her, tied into a neat bow with a ribbon matching the colour of her gown. Lady Rhiannon was dressed in a royal blue cotton and cashmere wool blend gown in a tartan pattern. She wore her black velvet cape over it as the air was becoming increasingly chill. She pushed her shiny sable tresses from her face when she noticed Meridwyn approaching.
"Oh, good! They've finally released you from that chamber, I see. Some fresh air will do you some good." a beat. "Alright, then. Leave your book with the Page, or something, and let's head into the Village." Meridwyn suggested to her friend.
Rhiannon sighed. She had just checked on her horse before coming to the gardens. She was desperate to ride her. She closed her book and placed it beside her on the bench before responding.
"I'd like that, Meridwyn, but I must decline." Rhiannon said.
"Are you feeling unwell? Has the pain returned?" Meridwyn inquired.
"I'm grand, Meridwyn. No pain. Everything is quiet." she smiled.
"Then, let's go into town. Aren't you eager to find Isabelle? She's nowhere to be found in this castle. I'm wondering if she went back to Nottingham Inn? Though, that would be very unseemly for a lady." Meridwyn mused as she seated herself beside her friend.
Rhiannon looked at her, curiously.
"Honestly, Rhiannon, aren't you a bit curious as to where in God's creation Isabelle could be? There's something funny about it, if you ask me." Meridwyn asked again. She sighed.
"Ha! I'll say! There's something funny about a lot of things around here of late." Rhiannon hinted as she took a sip of the batwing tea from her flask.
She noticed Meridwyn's suspicious glance at the flask and quickly explained what she was drinking, and her reason for using the flask.
"It helps with the nausea, as you know. If only Mortianna could concoct a mixture that would put me in control of my sensibilities again." she crossed one leg over the other, smoothed her skirts and continued. "Does carrying a baby make you sensitive to things and cause you to be more irritable? Angry, even?"
"I suppose it can at times. I can't say that I've noticed it much, however. Why?" Meridwyn asked.
"I really flew the coop last night, friend. I had some pointed questions for George and, I dare say, I got carried away. Luckily, I calmed down so that we could have a civilized discussion." she sighed. "I don't like that. I have better control of myself than that."
"That may be, Rhiannon, but, you never answered the question. The one about Isabelle." Meridwyn redirected her.
"I agree. There's something funny going on about that — and a few other things." Rhiannon hinted.
"Like, what other things?"
"Like, the fact that I'm told I can only remain within the castle and the grounds because danger lurks in Nottingham." Rhiannon hooked her fingers around the last four words, then sighed, shaking her head.
"What?" Meridwyn asked, incredulously.
"That's what George told me. That's what my pointed questions were about. It's killing me not to be able to leave freely to check on my manor. I'd normally be headed there today. I also want to know what happened to Isabelle. Come to think of it, I haven't seen my brother in awhile, either." Rhiannon pondered.
"Do you think they headed back to Pocklington?" Meridwyn asked.
"No, not at all. Robert wouldn't do that. He would never leave without telling me, especially when he shall be an uncle next spring." Rhiannon stated, firmly. "Aside from the guilt he carries over faking his death, and promising he'd never leave me again." she added.
"Perhaps your betrothed only feels it best you don't venture too far away, dearest. You did give us all a fright not that long ago. Imagine if you went into labour while you were riding alone to your manor?" Meridwyn shuddered.
"Possibly, but that's not how he framed it. He honestly made it sound like there was someone to be feared, but I honestly don't know whom."
"There's always people about to be wary of. That's no reason to keep you cooped up, however. This is very strange, indeed, friend." Meridwyn nodded.
"Indeed." Rhiannon agreed, as she took another sip of batwing tea from her flask.
"What if I asked Guy about this? I'd speak to George myself, but it would probably carry more weight if Guy casually brought this up to him. He will listen to Guy." Meridwyn suggested.
"Perhaps. Has Sir Guy mentioned anything to you about some unknown danger in Nottingham that you must be alert for?" Rhiannon asked.
"No, my dear. Not at all. Isn't that odd?"
"Indeed. If there is danger in this town it affects us all, not just myself, Meridwyn." Rhiannon commented with a knowing glance.
"There is one other possibility." Meridwyn hinted.
"Yes?"
"Do you think your betrothed had a chat with Mortianna? You know she sees things that regular people cannot, right? With her third eye vision, or whatever she refers to it as. Could she have seen something and informed him about it?" Meridwyn opined.
"I suppose it's possible." Rhiannon said. "I wonder if I should ask Mortianna about it?" she mused.
"I wouldn't suggest it, Rhi — she would never divulge it. If she had a glimpse of something, what she would call a vision, and she needed to warn you, specifically, you would know by now. She's very private that way." Meridwyn said.
"Aye. Secrecy is strong in this castle." Rhiannon muttered. There was a pause before she added, "You just called me 'Rhi'." she smiled.
"My thought was interrupted. It wasn't intentional." Meridwyn said, apologetically.
"It's fine, Meridwyn. It was nice to be called something different for a change." Rhiannon said.
Meridwyn smiled.
"As I said, I wasn't meaning to, but I'll keep that in mind." she straightened her expression, then continued with the topic at hand. "Now, you were talking about secrecy. It's not about secrecy. It's more about confidentiality, my dear. If you had a private meeting with Mortianna about a matter pertinent to yourself, would you want her blabbing it to anyone who would listen?" Meridwyn pointed out as her brow quirked knowingly over her blue eyes.
"No. You're right, Meridwyn. Good of you to mention that as I hadn't considered it." Rhiannon said.
It wasn't that long ago Rhiannon was initially angry when she found out her betrothed knew that she sought the help of Mortianna's talents. Rhiannon realized she'd be equally upset if Mortianna had told Meridwyn or anyone else what only Rhiannon, the Sheriff, and the witch knew regarding what that loathed man had done to her, and the lengths she willingly put herself through to forget it. If anyone were meant to know of it, Rhiannon would prefer to be the one to mention it.
"It's ridiculous, him keeping you cooped up around here like a pet." Meridwyn stated, shaking her head, as she smoothed her skirts.
"Both times he mentioned this he insisted that this was not a punishment, but an act of love to keep me safe. I tend to believe that is what he believes, Meridwyn. This isn't like him. He normally likes my independent, free spirited side." Rhiannon shrugged.
"Let me ask Guy about this, dearest. I won't mention any details, except ask him if there's something going on in this town that I should be on high alert for, and explain that this is what you were told."
"That sounds fine, Meridwyn. Perhaps your husband can shed some light on this mystery. God knows he is much more forthright with you. Sometimes George has a tendency to obfuscate matters." Rhiannon sighed. She pulled the edges of her black velvet cape closer about her, to shield the chill autumn air.
"Good. It's settled then. I shall speak to my husband and perhaps we can get this matter sorted before the day is lost. Perhaps George would let you ride to your manor if I accompanied you? We could look to find Isabelle after that. At least make some inquiries about town if anyone has seen her?"
"That would be grand, Meridwyn. I'm going to put a lid on my optimism, though." she sighed.
Lady Meridwyn walked solo on her way back toward the castle. Rhiannon expressed desire to take a few moments to get back to her book before heading back inside, especially with the portents of rain looming. As Meridwyn was approaching the doors to the main entrance, she saw her husband walk through the doors, heading toward her in the direction of the stables. It was time for his daily search assignment.
"Guy, I need a quick word." Meridwyn nodded to an area about ten feet to her right.
"My dear, I haven't much time. I must conduct the search." Guy reminded her.
She beckoned for him to follow her. He sighed and strode toward her.
"Guy, this mission you're currently working on, does this mean I should be concerned? I mean, for you, as well as myself?" Meridwyn asked.
"No, my dear. This particular man's crimes have more to do with conduct deemed punishable in the eyes of the church than an immediate threat to the public. Although, he's a chap I do not like." Guy said. "Is that it, Meridwyn? You know you have my whole heart, but you also know how George is."
"Almost it, just one more question. Are you aware your cousin told Rhiannon otherwise? He won't let her leave beyond the castle grounds, Guy." Meridwyn quirked her eyebrow knowingly.
"No, my love. I was not aware. Hmm. That's interesting." he pondered.
"So, there's nothing you can think of I should be on alert for in regards to safety?" Meridwyn inquired again, for clarification.
"No. Nothing more than usual. I'll see what I can find out without telling him you asked. I can ask questions about his opinion on the safety of the Villagers. I have my ways." he smiled, knowingly.
She kissed his cheek. "I know you do. Thank you, my love. Now, go get your heretic." she winked.
He grabbed her arm gently as she turned to be on her way. Guy pulled her toward him and softly kissed her. Just briefly. A teaser of what to expect when he returned to her.
"I shall see you next this evening, my lady. Perhaps with an answer to your question." Guy said to her as they parted ways.
The Sheriff was walking along the corridor of the main level, having just come from his office. He had safely placed the drawings that Richard had sketched for him inside of his vault. He didn't want to risk Rhiannon finding them. He only placed them in the desk drawer in the corner of his den temporarily.
The Sheriff was thinking more about what Luke had told him of the two messages Homely Hamon had for him. Something about keeping an eye on his belongings, that he's watching it, too. And… what of this vision of Mortianna's? Does this tie in at all, or is it a separate matter? Whose home was going to burn?
His gut was telling him to have one of his men guard Lady Rhiannon's manor. He really had no idea whose home might burn, but he'd never forgive himself if it turned out to be hers. Zeus knows, she had a propensity for wandering off, so it would, indeed, be plausible that she could somehow be there, inside of a home — her own, when the unthinkable happens. At this point in time, the cause was not as concerning as the fact that there was a chance a fire could occur at Lady Rhiannon's manor. He needed someone to man it, but whom? All of his best men, even Gisborne's top men from his patrols, were all occupied. Some were conducting the search for Hamon and his henchman. Two were guarding Guy's manor in Nettlestone, and others were guarding the castle.
The Sheriff looked up when he heard the sound of a female voice, clearing her throat.
"Our nuptials are three weeks from now, and already you don't see me." Lady Rhiannon scoffed.
"Forgive me, my lady. My mind was occupied with thoughts of matters that need managing, tasks that I need to take care of." the Sheriff explained. He looked to her arms and sighed. He reached out to her and added, "You shouldn't be carrying that heavy manuscript, my lady. Let me take it upstairs for — "
"No. I'm fine, my love. It's really not that heavy. Thank you, though." Rhiannon smiled. She sighed then added, "I've never understood this woe-is-me woman thing. Why do ladies do that? You know, I actually feel better, stronger even, when I use my muscles. I can ride a far greater distance and feel more comfortable doing so than most other maidens. That's only one benefit. I prefer to push myself. Being idle is a precursor to weakness." she said. It was a mantra she had often heard her father repeat to her brothers. She agreed there was wisdom in those words.
The Sheriff nodded, his eyebrows raised as he contemplated what she had just said. Her words made perfect sense, but he didn't want her to overdo it, either. At any other time he would support her need to be active, but now she was carrying a child. She already had a close call not that long ago. He wouldn't argue about the book, but he'd keep an eye on her to make sure she wouldn't try lifting anything much heavier than that.
"Indeed, you are stronger than any maiden I have ever met. That's fine, my angel. If it would make you feel better, I'll leave you to it, then." he smiled.
"George?" she began.
"Yes, my lady." the Sheriff said with a questioning glance.
"I apologize for my behaviour last night. I shouldn't have shouted, and I was completely unreasonable. That's really not me. I will be better." Rhiannon smiled.
"It is fine, my lady. All is well. I know you were just reacting to your doubt. Doubt that I had created. It doesn't help that my work often involves matters that swear me to secrecy, either." Nottingham sighed.
"But, that is who you are, and I shall abide by it. If I have questions for you in the future, I will endeavour to present them with less emotion. There was seldom raised voices in my family home, and I had no right to raise mine in yours." Rhiannon said.
"My lady, just be who you are. For you are a lady. You know how to conduct yourself publicly, yet, you're also comfortable challenging me from time to time." he reminded her with a knowing quirk of his brow.
"Yes." a beat. "One more thing, before you get back to your tasks." she sighed. "Uhm … where would my brother and sister in law be?"
"Robert is in the armoury at the moment. As you know, he had a good deal many pieces of armour, as well as helms, that needed either repairing, or replacing. He had his work cut out for him the moment he walked in there." the Sheriff replied without hesitation. "Poor Stephanus… " he added, absently.
"Indeed." she sighed. "What of Isabelle, then? Why have I not seen her in weeks?" Rhiannon pressed.
"Evidently, she is taking her time getting settled into her new living quarters, and is giving you space so as not to intrude upon you, my angel." he replied, smoothly.
He and Robert already talked about this and agreed this would be their reply when Rhiannon asked the question, because both of them knew she would. She was far too clever not to notice the absence of her sister in law.
"That's what Robert said, too. Yet, it makes no sense. She is family, for God's sake. What would she be intruding upon?" Rhiannon asked.
"I'm not sure, Rhiannon. Perhaps that is just her way?" he suggested in an attempt to satisfy her curiosity.
"I hope I have not offended them in any way. Robert has a strong faith, and I imagine Isabelle leans that way, too. Perhaps… my current condition is an issue for them since I am not yet wed?" she suggested.
"No, my dear. I truly don't believe that." Nottingham said. "Don't think on this now, my lady. All is well, I promise you." he smiled as he leaned in closer and kissed her cheek.
Rhiannon sighed. He was probably right, but she couldn't shake the nagging questions she had.
"Yes, you're right, my love. It just seemed strange to me, but I will try to put it out of my mind. I'll leave you to your duties." she smiled at him, then continued on her way.
Ancel had the scroll he had penned tucked safely into the pocket of his black suede surcoat. He smiled. He had always possessed the skill of good penmanship. He learned it from his sisters, and his tutor was often impressed by his handwriting when he was a lad. He was satisfied his writing would pass as a woman's handwriting. He had taken a moment after hunting to sit on a rock by the stream and pen the scroll. It wasn't his best idea, but it should work to stall Hamon this day. He always kept parchment, a quill, and a small jar of ink inside a pocket of the quiver where his arrows were kept. He was certain Hamon thought him to be illiterate. He chuckled to himself. Just keep playing the fool. Let him keep believing you're a blithering idiot.
He wondered if any of Nottingham's Knights ever had to play a role in order to gather intelligence and investigate certain matters? Would they ever have to ally themselves with criminals in order to achieve it?
Hamon shook his head as Ancel approached camp.
"It sure took you long enough! Where is your kill — "
Ancel had a few rabbits hanging from a large stick he had slung over his shoulder. He pulled it off of him, holding it out to show Hamon.
"Marvellous! That should do us for awhile, I'm sure. We shall cook one and feast on it now. Then, we must head into town. Today could be the day she shows up." Hamon reminded him, with his eyebrow quirked, knowingly.
"Indeed. We wouldn't want to miss … that. Would we?" Ancel replied, stifling a chuckle.
"Most definitely not! Very good, Ancel. Perhaps I should leave you in charge of hunting from now on?" he mused.
"If you say so." Ancel replied. Sometimes it was quite challenging trying to stifle a laugh.
That afternoon, at the edge of a clearing close to the path in a neighbouring Village of Nottingham, Gisborne was meeting with some of the men. There was another group led by Duke Farnsworth who were currently searching a different area. Rain was falling, but not heavily, yet. The men has dismounted to stretch their legs. They held the reins of their horses as they stood under the shelter of a large oak tree.
"Alright, lets go over this again." Gisborne addressed them. "Now, this bloke we're after, I strongly assure you, would stand out in a crowd like a festering wound. So, why haven't we found him? Did any of you check the Inn? They could have went back there."
"I did, Sir Gisborne. There was no sign of either of them. The Innkeeper reported they never returned to the Inn, but who knows? The point is there's no evidence they are staying there." Luke said.
Gisborne nodded, rather surprised by his response.
"Did you check on any place else?" Guy asked, narrowing his steel blue eyes, a little sceptical of what the reply would be.
"Yes, Sir. I visited the local tavern, and also four rooming houses in the vicinity. I interviewed the Owner, serving ladies, and the patrons of the tavern. For the rooming houses, I questioned the homeowners who were offering temporary lodging." Luke sighed.. "They have not been seen in the tavern, or the rooming houses, either." he said.
"Right. Well done, Luke." Guy nodded. He looked to the others. "What about the brothel?"
Luke interrupted. "You saw him, didn't you, Sir Guy? Do you think he'd really be welcome at a brothel? I'm not being funny, but… he doesn't look the type." his blue green eyes twinkled as he stifled a smirk.
"Have you seen the consorts employed there, Luke? They wouldn't need to be intimate with him. He could have them massage his neck, or clip his ratchet toenails — as long as the price was right." Gisborne sighed, then took a swig of water from his hip flask.
Officer Gerad chuckled. His raven locks danced in the wind as his body shook with increasing laughter.
Guy folded his arms and glared at him. For he was not joking.
"Aye, Sir Guy. It is done. I checked it. I interviewed Madam Birghiva, and the consorts who were available to speak with." Officer Alisaundre said. He was better known to the men as 'Alex'.
"Any luck?" Guy asked.
"Negative, Sir Guy. No one has seen him there, nor his henchman. I asked Officer Luke to describe the henchman to me before going there to check. No one fitting their description had visited the brothel." Alex reported. He quirked his brow over his brown eyes, knowingly.
"He's got to be somewhere close by. He as much as admitted to Luke, Drake, and Adam that he's surveilling the bleeding castle!" Guy huffed as he kicked at the oak tree.
"It's like he has vanished." Alex said as he pushed his brown hair from his eyes, and took a swig from his flask."
"That better not be mead, Alex." Guy remarked, scornfully. "You almost lost the opportunity of joining us on our search in ninety four because of your taste for it." he spat.
"It's water, Sir Guy." Alex said.
"Alex has a point. It is like he vanished." Gerad interrupted. "Just like when we couldn't find Locksley — for the longest time." he shook his head and sighed.
"Aye. But then, one day you did." Luke said.
"Excuse me, lad?" Gisborne asked.
"Then one day, you did find Hood, plus his men." Luke pointed out. "I know I wasn't here three years ago. Alas, I am from the north. However, the stories of the events from that time are still being spoken of and are widely known. Some facts might get blurred with each account, but everyone knows about the day of the siege, and how Hood and his men were found in Sherwood Forest." Luke explained.
"Alright. I'll bite." Guy said as he rolled his eyes. "What in God's nightgown does bringing up that cursed chapter in our lives have anything to do — "
"There's one place we haven't looked, Sir Gisborne." Luke replied with a knowing glance.
"God, I hate that place." Alex sighed.
"Right. Sherwood bleeding Forest." Gerad agreed as he shook his head, rolling his piercing blue eyes.
"Indeed." Gisborne muttered in chagrin. "Let's continue our regular search efforts for now. There's only a few hours before the gloaming when we will head back to the castle. I shall present this idea to the Sheriff in my report to him then."
The men nodded in agreement. Each of them mounted their horses, and then they continued to ride, searching relentlessly for the two elusive outlaws.
Robert found Rhiannon seated on a bench in a covered, yet open area outside, between two wings of the castle. She looked to be reading a very large manuscript, and was sipping something from a flask. He approached her softly, because she appeared to be thoroughly enjoying whatever it was she was reading.
"Good day, Sister." Robert spoke. He stood approximately six feet away, with his hands clasped in front of him.
"Can you step a little closer? I'm not sure I know you. Sir." she taunted, with her eyebrow quirked.
"Really?" he sighed.
"It's been a long while, Brother. I scarcely recognize you." she sighed. "What is going on, Robert? Where have you been?" she placed the book down and stood. "And… what in the devil? Just where are you hiding my sister in law?" she challenged.
"Sis, I don't think you comprehend the absolute load of chaos I stepped into from day one of duty. It's madness! I am still trying to get caught up." Robert said.
"Alright. That may explain your absence. I say 'may' because I'm still deciding whether these excuses are a well contrived fib or not. But, that does not explain where the hell Isabelle is."
"Rhiannon, mind your tongue! Good Heav — "
"Oh, for the love of Satan himself, Robert! I'm not a child anymore, and I doubt God cares as long as I do not smack you." Rhiannon huffed, with a knowing glance.
"Rhiannon, perhaps you should come out of the cold. It's raining, dearest." Robert began.
"Do not try to change the topic, Brother. We are sheltered here." she pointed above them.
"It's not enclosed —"
"Robert. Where. The absolute hell. Is my sister in law?" she pressed. She folded her arms and glared into his eyes, demanding truth from him.
Robert took a breath before he spoke. The usual excuse wasn't working, so, it was time to think of something new. Anything to placate her! He'd have to tell Nottingham later of the change to their story.
"She has taken over for one of Lady Margaret's charges. Isabelle has the skills to handle it, so she's, uh… doing that. But, there's plenty of staff to help her, and she has protection, as well." Robert sighed. Only part of that was a lie. He had to think of something, and if everything he said was untrue she would know it in an instant.
"What?" she asked slowly, with her eyebrow quirked.
"It is true." he said. He glanced over at a rose bush nearby.
"Right. Take me to her, then. I'm sure George would be fine with my going there if you accompanied me, since… this is happening." she pointed to her abdomen and sighed.
"I cannot, Rhiannon." Robert said.
"Why not?"
"Lady Margaret's charge is not well, dearest. The medicus is questioning contagion." he embellished, speaking rather quickly.
He couldn't believe he just said that, but he didn't know what else to do? Her persistence demanded further explanation than the story that he and the Sheriff agreed upon. It was the only excuse he could come up with to keep her from demanding she be taken to where Isabelle was — minding Rhiannon's child. The son she couldn't remember. He shook his head and looked downcast.
"Robert, we must get her out of there! This is madness! How on earth are you agreeable with this? You're working away while your wife is caring for someone so sick, she's putting herself in harm's way?" Rhiannon exclaimed.
"She shall be returning to us soon." Robert muttered. Oh, boy. You're just digging yourself deeper into a hole here, but she will not relent! Nottingham was right. She'll never let this go.
Rhiannon sighed and quirked her eyebrow questioningly at her brother.
"So, she'll be returning to quarantine for a time. She shall miss the wedding if she stays wherever she is much longer. She'll likely need to quarantine for at least a fortnight. This is ludicrous, Robert!" Rhiannon exclaimed.
"I'm confident she'll be grand, Rhiannon. She is clever and she is careful." Robert said.
"You sure this has nothing to do with my carrying a child before I am legally wed, Brother dear?" she asked.
"Yes, I'm sure. She is, indeed, covering for Lady Margaret." Robert said.
"Because the midwife is on duty for me." Rhiannon sighed.
"Aye, I suppose." Robert sighed.
"Isabelle may possibly come to harm because of me." she said.
"She will be fine, Rhiannon. You're making this situation sound much worse than it is."
Her jaw dropped in response to his nonchalance over the matter. He cannot be serious?
"I seriously cannot believe you have no concerns, Robert. What on earth has gotten into you?"
"I have faith that — " he was interrupted.
"Oh, for the love of Mary, Robert! Faith. Ha! I also seem to remember the old adage about God helping those who help themselves." she sighed, then took a sip of the batwing tea from her flask. "So, what are you doing about it, then? You can pray all you want, but it will help her a lot more if you get her out of there."
"She takes her duties seriously." Robert replied, absently. "Are you imbibing, Rhiannon? What is in that flask? No wonder you're argumentative." he sighed.
"It's batwing tea, courtesy of Mortianna. Why are you parrying?" Rhiannon demanded.
"Doesn't sound very palatable." he quipped.
"It helps me to not heave in the mornings. Carrying a child makes mornings unpleasant." she replied.
"I see." he said. Truthfully, he didn't quite understand it, and he was glad he didn't for the moment.
"Now, do you want to explain to me how both you and George had a tale to tell about Isabelle getting settled in and keeping her distance so as not to intrude upon me, or some such codswallop?" Rhiannon asked, pointedly. "As if… you two rehearsed that story?" a beat. "I must have words with him, since you both, obviously, came up with that excuse. He actually said to me, "all is well". Ha! As if!" she huffed, using air quotes in reference to the wording of her betrothed.
"We thought Isabelle would only be occupied for a short time, and that you'd scarcely notice her absence. But then, when the charge worsened and the medicus began to question a contagious illness, we didn't wish to alarm you, dearest. Do not blame him. Isabelle accepted the responsibility willingly." Robert explained.
"I see." Rhiannon said. She looked downcast and softly sighed.
"It couldn't be helped." Robert added.
"Bring Isabelle home, Brother. You must! There's no need for Lady Margaret to be sitting idle in the castle, waiting on this child to declare himself ready to arrive. She'll be waiting a long time, and Isabelle should be the priority now." she sighed. "I can't believe I need to explain this to you. Have I not taught you anything about how to treat a lady?" Rhiannon said.
"Indeed. You did give valuable advice. Mother taught me that, too; and Father with how he treated her." Robert put his hand to his forehead, shook his head and sighed. "I will speak to your betrothed about it." he muttered, absently.
"Wait… what, now? Why would you need to speak to George about this? This is a time for action, not words. And what in the devil does he have to do with it? Why should you need his approval before going to rescue your wife from a contagious illness? For God's sake, Rob — "
"He would need to speak to his physician about it, because for the time being, Master Crumwell is in charge of your care. It would be the decision of the medicus whether or not Lady Margaret would be granted leave of you to care for her charge." Robert said, smoothly.
"I see. Perhaps I could speak to George about it?" Rhiannon offered.
"I will do it, Rhiannon. It will be alright. Everything will work out, you will see." Robert said.
"I'm rather worried about her, Brother. You best speak to him today about this. She needs to be brought home where we can keep her safe." Rhiannon sighed.
"I will, my dear. Do not fret. I best be getting back to the armoury. It's very busy in there and I have tarried too long."
"Alright. Do not wait over a sennight before seeing me again. And for God's sake, bring Isabelle home." Rhiannon stated, firmly.
At twilight this day, Rebeccah was quietly sipping her tea as she sat upon a chair in Lady Wordsworth's back garden. A small outdoor fire burned in a pit surrounded by various rocks forming a circular wall, close to where she was seated. This was Lady Rhiannon's idea entirely. The lady often liked to sit outside by the fire, usually reading and sipping tea, or occasionally, spirits.
Rebeccah was debating switching her tea to something stronger, for she was feeling rather disappointed. She was hoping Aleyn might drop by today but, alas, he did not. She wondered if he stayed away because he thought Lady Rhiannon may visit to check in on things? Yet, Rebeccah was certain she made it clear to him that the lady was recovering from an illness, and that she wasn't expecting to see her anytime soon.
She arose and headed back inside the manor for a moment. She decided there would be no harm in her imbibing in a small measure of spirits just now. Just a little. Her tasks for the day were completed. Perhaps a few sips of wine might quiet her thoughts?
For Rebeccah had questions. What was it about Aleyn that attracted her to him, yet, raised her suspicions at the same time? There was something suspect about the man, Rebeccah thought, as she seated herself again by the fire, a goblet containing a small measure of wine in hand.
She took a sip of the wine, letting it warm and relax her as she hoped she might see him again. At the same time, she wondered if that would be such a good idea?
The two men were seated on logs by the fire at dusk. Hamon took a swig of mead from his mug and shook his head, the letter held in his other hand. He was still trying to figure out if this was some kind of a trick.
"Isn't this rather convenient? She just happens to send a letter to your dearest darling — on the day you bring me there to stand watch some several yards away, waiting to surprise her." Hamon sneered.
"I told you already that she was recovering from some unknown illness." Ancel reminded him.
"Interesting, since the nuptials are in three weeks hence. Maybe they'll be cancelled again by then. Who knows?" Hamon mused.
Hamon drank from his mug and looked to the letter once more.
"Tuesday, October 21st, 1197, Anno Domini
Rebeccah;
I regret to say that I am unable to see to the manor this day.
I am getting better. Do not fret. Look for me, quite possibly, in a sennight hence.
Be well.
- Lady Rhiannon."
"So… either we wait a week, or I just stroll on over to Nottingham Castle to deal with the cursed little bitch there." Hamon said, firmly. "And you're coming with me if I choose the more favourable option — option two." Hamon said, firmly.
"We cannot just steal into the castle, for it's the only way of attempting to gain access and avoid capture." Ancel said. He concealed a sigh and looked away. What in the devil are you doing? Stop being yourself. You must play the part of the fool!
"Like I said, I'm still deciding." Hamon said, shaking his head. "Is that some kind of tonic to improve brain function you're drinking, Ancel? Instead of mead? Why are you almost sounding… normal?" Hamon chuckled.
"How much sense does one need to be lacking to not understand the obvious? He's after us, Hamon. As soon as we're spotted by Nottingham's men we will be captured. Tossed into the dungeon, friend!" he sighed as he choked out the last word. "So, there's no other choice but to sneak in there like a pair of thieves, and that doesn't sound like the best plan, either. There's too much risk involved. Your plan has a much better chance of succeeding if you bide your time for a sennight. I will continue to gather information from her lady servant on the days you approve of my going there." Ancel suggested, smoothly.
Hamon shook his head and took a good swallow of mead. He was astonished. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but you may have a point, Ancel. I shall think it over and sleep on it. Now, how was your lady friend, anyway?" Hamon pried.
"Grand. She was a little frazzled as she had a busy day of chores." Ancel lied.
"I was hoping to get a glimpse of your little lady. Alas, I was standing right beside that maple tree only twenty yards away. Funny how I didn't see a lady open the door for you?" Hamon said, with his bushy ginger eyebrow quirked.
"I'm sure I was blocking her from your view, as she was standing directly in front of me." Ancel said.
"Do you normally only visit for a quarter of an hour, Ancel? Rather brief, wasn't it?"
"She had a busy schedule today. Plus, what do you want me to do with her? With you only a short distance away." Ancel sighed.
"Indeed." he said. "So, she just happened to casually mention to you that she received a letter from the cursed woman this day?" Hamon persisted.
"In a nutshell, yes. I mentioned I should keep my visit brief in case the lady of the manor visits. She told me of a messenger who brought the message to her this morning. I grabbed it from a table when she wasn't looking before I left." Ancel explained, smoothly. All of it, a lie. He had no choice in his actions this day.
"How does the Sheriff's bitch know she will, indeed — for certain, be magically healed and ready to travel to her manor in exactly a week's time? Hmm." Hamon pressed.
"I don't know, and I doubt her lady servant would know, either. Maybe the Sheriff's lady is just eager to visit it for a brief time, and check in with her staff, or something? Perhaps she's tired of being ill? I mean, who knows?" Ancel said.
"There's something a little off to me, yet I can't quite put my finger on it. Maybe it's just that the Sheriff's bitch is the one who is off and it's jumbling my brain matter the more I think on it." Hamon mused as he stroked his pudgy chin with his thumb and first two fingers.
Oh, there's something off, alright. It was off the moment I took you on the path heading in the opposite direction of Lady Wordsworth's manor and led you to an abandoned manor, miles away from hers. I shall never take you there. You shall never cast your bulgy eyes upon Rebeccah, nor the lady to the Sheriff of Nottingham, you sodding —
Ancel's thought was interrupted.
"Drink up, Ancel. Your dearest darling lived to see another day. An occasion to celebrate, I'm sure." Hamon smirked as he nodded to Ancel's mug.
"Aye. That, indeed." Ancel said, taking a swig of water from his mug.
He'd collected it in his flask from the stream when he penned the letter early this morning. The water was clean and safe for drinking. Thus, no need to heat it over the fire, drawing attention to himself. Hamon would wonder why the sudden need to drink more than the usual measure of water, instead of spirits.
There will, indeed, be cause to celebrate — when I hand you upon a golden platter to the Sheriff of Nottingham. The day is coming. Ancel thought. He took another sip of water from his flask, then looked to the ground and smirked.
The Sheriff was meeting with Robert in the Council Quarters at dusk. He expected Gisborne and Duke Farnsworth to be arriving soon with their evening report of the day's search efforts, as well.
"Let me get this straight. She continued to press you for answers about your lady wife's whereabouts, to the point you told her that Lady Isabelle is caring for a person whom the physician suspects has some sort of life threatening, contagious disease process?" the Sheriff sighed as he quirked his eyebrow at his soon to be brother in law.
He seriously wanted to laugh as he pictured this exchange between his betrothed and her brother, but he suppressed the urge to do that, for now.
"I know. She wouldn't let up, Nottingham. I suspect she is more comfortable demanding answers from me than you." Robert said.
"You'd be surprised." the Sheriff commented, wryly.
"Actually, I admit, I am not." Robert said. "That sounds about right." he shook his head, stifling a grin.
"From the top, then. What exactly did she say to you to have you come up with this riveting story?" the Sheriff asked, as he clasped his hands together in anticipation.
"She said, and I quote: "Robert. Where. The absolute hell. Is my sister in law?" Her arms folded, boot tapping impatiently and, as you can imagine, a sardonic look upon her face." Robert said with a knowing glance, using air quotes to reference her phrasing.
The Sheriff suppressed a grin. He would have liked to have been witness to that part of their conversation.
"Oh, I can imagine." the Sheriff agreed. "As you said, that sounds about right."
"So, I told her Isabelle was covering for Lady Margaret, taking care of one of her charges. Then, Rhiannon demanded I take her to Isabelle — naturally. I had to think of something to dissuade her from pressing either one of us to take her to Isabelle immediately, because… you know she would. So, I told her Lady Margaret's charge was very ill, to the point that the medicus was questioning contagion." Robert explained. He placed his thumb and forefinger at the inside corners of his eyes and shook his head. "I realize I strayed off course from our original story, but… if you could have seen her. She immediately interrogated me upon seeing me. She wouldn't let up! I dare say, if you're ever in need of another Investigator, you might consider her. If she were born a lad she would have made a fine addition to your militia, I'm sure." Robert sighed.
"Indeed. She's certainly very astute, and has the right mind for it." the Sheriff agreed. "I must say, that was a good one, Robert. I admit, I don't think I would have thought of it." the Sheriff said with a grin.
"Aye. If we want to continue to wait until after the wedding to tell her the truth of the matter, you might want to consider relieving Isabelle of her duty just now. Because, well, you said it. My sister is very astute. So, now she is, of course, considering that my wife shall need to quarantine for at least a fortnight when she is relieved of her duty." Robert said.
"You're right. I shall have Lady Margaret resume her duties in Nettlestone. I shall speak to Thomas about it to get his approval first. I'm sure it will be fine, as Rhiannon has improved considerably." the Sheriff said.
"That would be grand. For your sake and mine, above anyone else at this point, Nottingham." Robert said.
Just then, the Scribe interrupted them, appearing at the door to announce the arrival of Gisborne and Duke Farnsworth. Robert took his leave to allow the Sheriff a private moment with his men.
"Well?" the Sheriff prodded his top two men. "Your combined lack of enthusiasm is telling me that would be a 'no' for today." he accurately surmised.
"Indeed. The men in my group did a thorough search of several properties, businesses, and empty fields. Adam and I even looked in Matheus Busby's barn. Nothing so far, my Lord." Duke Farnsworth said. He shook his head and sighed.
"The men I am working with also conducted a comprehensive search. Officer Luke accomplished a good majority of the work. There were many people interviewed and all of them reported they hadn't seen either of the men." Gisborne reported.
"Well, this is puzzling, isn't it, Gentlemen?" the Sheriff shook his head. "He's most certainly nearby, as he pointed out to three of my men. It's like he's lying in wait like a snake in the grass."
"That was my comment, too, Cousin, when our group had a briefing mid afternoon. One of your Knights had an idea regarding our next move." Guy hinted. "It would be a bitch to execute, but it's worth mentioning."
The Sheriff's eyebrow shot north, with piqued curiosity.
"Right. And what idea is that?" he asked.
"You probably won't like it." Gisborne sighed.
"Try me." the Sheriff challenged.
"Luke thinks it would be worth searching through Sherwood Forest." Guy said.
"It's not a bad idea, my Lord." the Duke said. "Tedious as hell, but often the best plans are."
"And here I thought that we put that bloody place behind us." the Sheriff sighed. "I agree, the plan holds merit. Locksley was just as elusive to us three years ago. It went on for months before we finally discovered the lot of them in the forest." he said.
"That was what Luke pointed out to us, and reminded me that we have searched everything but the forest to find that stumpy bloke and his comrade." Guy said.
"Hiding in plain sight — just like Hood." the Duke said with a knowing glance. "It's, indeed, possible. It would be a perfect cover." he added.
"Indeed." the Sheriff agreed. "That's fine. I agree that is our best option for our next move. The good thing is we won't need as many men as last time since we only have two of them to look for, and really, only one who matters — rather than a motley crew of eight, plus a parade of minions." he sighed. "We can achieve it with the men already tasked with the search, without pulling men away from other assignments — an absolute logistical nightmare." he added.
The Sheriff, his Lieutenant, and his Captain all agreed, and made the decision to commence the tedious task of beginning a search of Sherwood Forest on the morrow.
After the Duke bid them both a goodnight, the Sheriff and Gisborne were walking the corridor of the main level of the castle on their way to the staircase leading up to the second floor. Guy decided this was a perfect time to attempt to get an answer to the question his lady wife was seeking.
"Cousin, is there anything I should be aware of with concern to public safety?" Guy asked.
"Well, Zeus knows what that stumpy Hamon character is capable of — I doubt not very much, but… no. Why? Have you heard something about a threat to the Villagers, Gis?" the Sheriff queried.
"Well, you know how it is when you're about town more than conducting work within the castle walls. You hear things. I heard something about it being best for ladies to be vigilant for now." Guy said. Why did I agree to this? The man can spot a lie a mile away!
Guy kept his gaze focused on the path ahead, once they reached the second floor. It was a good excuse for averting looking into his cousin's eyes.
"Is that a fact?" the Sheriff asked, his eyebrow quirked in suspicion.
"Aye." Guy muttered.
"Interesting. Well, I can't imagine why? Except that Samhain is approaching. You know how strangely people can behave at that particular time. Every. Sodding. Year." the Sheriff sneered.
"They were probably just telling tales. I thought you might know what they were speaking of." Guy said, relieved his cousin didn't press him further.
"No, Cousin. I have no idea what they were referring to, but if any of them know more about this matter, then they need to inform me. Next time you hear conversations like that, Gis, investigate it. Don't ignore it. That way, you make the decision on what information is pertinent or not." the Sheriff advised.
"I will do, Cousin. You are right. I was more focused on the search and didn't pay heed to their comments enough to question further." Guy lied.
"Understandable." the Sheriff said.
"By the way, your instincts were right. Luke is turning out to be a fine addition to the Black Knights. I'm surprised to be saying so, but I can see him moving up the ranks. He's ambitious, and is suited to the work." Guy said.
"I'm pleased to hear that, Gis. You're right. He's a good Investigator. I need another with those kind of skills. I can only name four of my men in total possessing that skill: You, the Duke, Mordrid, and now, Luke. We could always use another. Can you think of anyone of our men I might not be aware of who would be suited for it?" the Sheriff asked.
"None that I know of, Cousin. Except, Nigel. But he is quite… busy at the moment." Guy said, softly.
"Indeed. He is. With a very important task. Keep your eyes open. I'll ask the Duke to do the same. Both of you will know if any of the available men possess a talent for it. I shall keep Nigel in mind in future, but we need another top man on the team now, Gis. It's best to be prepared, and one more Investigator would nicely solidify our position." the Sheriff said.
"Indeed." Guy agreed. He paused a moment before adding, "So, let's say our ladies wanted to venture into town to do some shopping. You can't think of anyone who might pose a threat to them at this time?" Guy asked once more, for clarification.
The Sheriff stopped in his tracks while he took a moment to contemplate his reply. He preferred to keep his discussion with Mortianna private, but how to explain his reasoning for being overprotective of Lady Rhiannon at the moment? Only one explanation would do.
"No, I am not aware of any such person who is a threat to the public. However, I would prefer to have Rhiannon stay close by. No further than the walls surrounding the grounds of the castle." the Sheriff said.
"Are you concerned she is in any danger?" Guy asked.
"Yes, and no. Not in the way you might be thinking in relation to what you overheard in the Village, but in regard to her current condition, Cousin." he explained.
There really was no other way of explaining it without divulging what Mortianna told him. He didn't want to risk Lady Meridwyn finding that out, because she would worry, and possibly tell Rhiannon.
"She seems to be getting on rather well at the moment, though, George?" Guy pointed out.
"True. However, it took a good deal of care and treatment to get her to this state of wellness. What if her pains returned while she's wandering about miles away from home?" the Sheriff asked with his eyebrow quirked. "I can't have that, Gis. She was all alone when she brought forth our son. I can't imagine how frightening that must have been. I cannot have my lady endure that again. She will be properly tended to, and pampered when it's time for the little one to arrive. Thomas says she's at risk because of what happened to her then, and the pains she had just recently. Both her mother and mine died giving birth. I will do everything I can to ensure it won't happen to her." the Sheriff vowed.
None of what he said was a lie, but it wasn't the full truth of why he wanted Rhiannon to remain close. He feared losing her in childbirth, as much as he did her being trapped in a burning home or building. There was more he could do to prevent the latter, however.
"I understand, Cousin. That makes perfect sense, and I'd make the same decision if in your position." Guy nodded.
After they bid each other goodnight, the Sheriff thought more about what they had just spoken of. He decided when he spoke to Thomas on the morrow about sending Lady Margaret back to Nettlestone, that he would finally ask the question that had been haunting him for many years. He didn't really want to know before now; but perhaps if he knew, it might shed some light on how to protect his betrothed from the same kind of danger?
A/N: Thank you, dear readers, for your patience, and forgive me for the years long wait to continue this story. It was a hell of a last decade.
Some of you might be wondering, 'Weren't there several more chapters uploaded?'. There were, and they will be back. Recently, I was referencing something about one of the background characters for Chapter 108, which is halfway completed. I did my referencing here — and noticed several errors. I couldn't have that. Everything beyond this chapter is being tweaked. There may still be errors here and there because my eyesight isn't the best, but I'm happier with the results, and I hope you will be, too.
There's tons of surprises in store — even leading up to the wedding, and beyond. Background players come into it; a twist involving a mage; a visitor to the castle — who is only spoken of at this point — unknowingly alters things for one of the Black Knights. And, of course, it's not all smooth sailing at the Wordsworth/Nottingham Wedding. It could never be boring! Some things took shape that I never imagined myself when I started this, but I'm pleased with what I have to share.
It may not look so pretty to read, but I added the translations to words spoken by Madam Oberon, her daughter, Marie, Jean Louis, the chef, and Lady Rhiannon so that you wouldn't have to. You will also see that in later chapters with someone else who hails from another country outside of England, and another who is often mentioned in Robin Hood lore, but wasn't included in the film this story is based on.
So, stay tuned, and hold onto your hats. I do hope you enjoy reading, as much as I have enjoyed writing this.
I thank you for reading. Cheers to all of you!
— Donna.