On Tuesday morning, Gisborne was meeting with the Captain, Robert, and the Sheriff's top men in the Council Quarters . They had some matters to discuss, since the Sheriff was out of commission for an unknown length of time.

"Shouldn't I be leading the men on the search by now, Sir Guy?" Duke Farnsworth asked.

"Not just yet. I was planning to summon you earlier, but I was too… distracted to think clearly." Guy said, quietly.

"Why do so many of you appear that you were awake all night? Sir Guy? Robert?" Duke Farnsworth asked them. He looked to Luke. "And you, lad? You look like you could use a bed right now!"

"Right. Forgive me, Captain." Luke replied, stifling a yawn.

"Luke is excused from duty today. At least, that duty." Guy said, firmly.

"Where is His Lordship? Will he be joining us?" Duke Farnsworth asked, suspiciously.

"No. He's unable to join us. He's recovering. Luke is part of the reason he is alive right now. Robert helped quite a bit, too." Guy hinted.

"Can one of you explain what he's recovering from?" the Captain questioned the men.

"He was injured with an arrow while hunting on Sunday. Last night, he started bleeding from the wound… a lot. Thomas Crumwell had to open it and repair what the medicus in Newerche failed to do properly the first time." Guy explained.

"What?" the Captain asked, incredulously.

"It is true." Robert said.

"The procedure finally ended a couple of hours before first light." Luke added.

"What in the devil happened in Newerche?" Duke Farnsworth demanded of the three top men.

"He was accidentally shot with an arrow when fog was present. The Prince summoned for a medicus to come to his manse to tend to — " Luke started to explain, but was interrupted.

"Oh, no. Must we go over that part again? I might need a large bowl brought in here to heave into." Mordrid sighed.

"My thoughts exactly." Guy frowned.

"How does that happen? I'm sure none of the top men would be so… careless as to shoot an arrow during… fog. Oh!" Duke Farnsworth exclaimed as he suddenly realized.

"Again, my thoughts exactly." Guy said with a knowing look.

"The Prince shot the Sheriff?" the Captain asked, incredulously.

"He did." Mordrid nodded.

"Indeed." Luke said.

"Unfortunately, yes." Ancel sighed.

"What's his status now?" Duke Farnsworth asked.

"He's stable for now, but quite weakened from the bleeding, and the presence of purulence inside the damn wound. He is being looked after by Crumwell." Guy explained. He sighed.

"What happens now, Sir Gisborne? Since the Sheriff is… recovering?" Ancel asked.

"I'm covering for him until such time as he directs me otherwise. I will follow his instructions once he's able to offer them, but in the meantime, I'm in charge. The search will go as planned, with the absence of Luke's participation." Guy said, then he turned to Luke. "You were present for the entirety of the incident from summoning the medicus at once, to assisting throughout the entire ordeal. You had the presence of mind to take over from Beric at the door because you trusted your gut. Your gut told you something was wrong, and you were right.

"After this meeting you're to report directly to your bed, lad. Once you're rested enough you'll be sent back to my cousin's chambers to guard the door, or offer any other assistance requested of you by either Thomas Crumwell, or Lady Rhiannon." a beat. "With tempers flaring in the Rothwell clan, it's probably best you lay low today, anyway. I'm sure my cousin would agree." Guy instructed him.

"Very well. Thank you, Sir Gisborne." Luke nodded.

"Well done, Luke!" Mordrid congratulated him.

Luke smiled and nodded.

"Was there anything of significance noted in the rubble yesterday, Duke? Like… a couple of bodies, perhaps?" Guy asked, curiously.

"Negative. No indication of any bodies present." Duke Farnsworth said.

"Curses!" Robert muttered as he picked up the parchment he was taking notes on and held it up in front of him. He moved it farther and farther from his face, then brought it in closer to him. He frowned.

"What is it, Robert?" Guy asked.

"Just a visual problem." Robert muttered.

"What do you mean?" Guy asked.

"On occasion, when I'm tired, my eyes play tricks on me. I cannot read my own writing. Everything is blurry." Robert huffed.

"I'll take over the documenting, Robert. If that would be agreeable to Sir Gisborne?" Luke offered.

"That would be fine, Luke." Guy nodded.

Luke took the parchment, quill and ink jar from Robert and continued with the task. He was glad to do it, as he had a note to write to give to someone in the castle, anyway.

"Great. So, it seems they got away." Guy frowned.

"So it would appear. Yes." the Captain nodded.

"Right now, the focus is on finding the escaped prisoner. Let's make that the priority. It would be nice to give such news to my cousin, once he's… well enough to receive such news."

"Agreed." Duke Farnsworth nodded.

"And we shall be joining him?" Ancel asked, as he nodded toward Mordrid.

"Yes. He wanted all three of you to participate, but given the change in circumstances I know he'd agree to keep Luke back for today." Guy said.

"Very well, Sir Guy." Mordrid said. He looked to Luke then. "You're writing up a storm, mate. You don't need to start a book." he scoffed.

"Just want to make sure I get everything down." Luke lied. He contemplated sharing what he was up to, but he knew he would be teased relentlessly for it.

"What else is on the agenda, Sir Guy?" Duke Farnsworth asked.

"That is the main goal for today. I've got the lads at the portcullis on high alert for the raging Rothwell blokes, and any other malcontents who may show. If you find him, bring him here, and we'll put him back in the dungeon — in an isolated cell as an extra security measure." Guy instructed.

"Noted. And if we don't? At what point should we return if the search turns up… nothing?" the Captain asked.

"Sundown. Return then, and prepare to resume the search on the morrow." the Lieutenant instructed.

"Sounds good. Will Drake and Adam be joining us again, or are they manning the portcullis?"

"They shall be joining you, Duke. I have Castor and Emory on duty at the portcullis." Guy said.

"Is Emory able for that?"

"Yes. Although, he may not be able to run, he can do everything else. Thomas says he should refrain from running until the morrow." Guy nodded.

"Good. We still have the drawings Richard penned, but it's good that they have seen him." the Captain said.

"Most of us have by now, but I agree." Guy nodded.

"Indeed. If that is all, I will round up the men and get started." Duke Farnsworth said.

"Indeed. That is all for now. When you return, report to me." Guy directed.

"Very well." the Captain nodded.

Duke Farnsworth, Mordrid, and Ancel arose from their seats.

Luke looked up from the parchment. There were two he had been writing on. He looked to the men present to make sure none of them were paying attention to him. Robert was rubbing his eyes, and the Lieutenant stood from his chair and saw the men to the door. Luke used the opportunity to quietly fold one of the papers on his lap, then he tucked it inside a pocket in his breeches.

"Thank you for taking over, Luke. It's frustrating when this happens." Robert said.

"You're welcome, Robert. What helps your vision in moments like these?" Luke asked, curiously.

"Keeping my eyes closed for a few hours. It's quite bothersome. It isn't just written words that become blurred, it's… everything. It's just the way my eyes are. It's been this way as long as I can remember. Luckily, there's been only a few instances I've been this tired that it was noticeable." Robert explained.

"Sounds like we both have appointments to keep with our pillows, Robert." Luke smiled.

"Yes. Is that a smile, or a subtle laugh? I cannot tell for certain." Robert sighed.

"A smile. It's not very funny to be as tired as we are." Luke nodded.

"Indeed." Robert agreed.

"Thank you for taking over from Robert, Luke." Guy said while he returned to the table.

"Of course, Sir Gisborne. I left the notes on the table." Luke said as he stood from the chair.

"I'm sure they're fine. I'll review them in a moment, and you should head now to your quarters."

"Very well. I will report to the Sheriff's chambers afterwards." Luke nodded and took his leave.

"It seems like you should do the same as Luke, Robert." Guy said.

"I will in a moment. But first, a word." Robert said.

"I thought your vision was disturbed?"

"Oh, trust me. It is. The thing is, my brain is working fine. It's just my eyes that aren't cooperating." Robert sighed.

"Alright. What is this about, Robert?"

"The Sheriff's gift from my sister. I'm going to be working on it with Eustace. There's a few things I need to know before starting. I realize the steel is coming tomorrow, but I'll make notes of this once I've rested my eyes."

"Very well. What do you need to know — in particular?" Guy asked, curiously.

"Like, how he fights. How he swings it? The other particulars I would want to know I already have covered." Robert explained.

"What are those, if I may ask?" Guy asked with his eyebrow quirked.

"I'd want to know height and his approximate weight, and which is his dominant hand. I have all of that noted. The other would be… what drives him. To fight. I think I have that covered, too." Robert said.

"I see. I didn't realize so much went into forging a sword?"

"All of those elements I mentioned factor into it. I wouldn't make a heavy steel blade for a man who is slight, for instance." Robert explained.

"I see. That does make sense. Well, as you know, he's tall, but quite lean. Therefore, he's generally quite fast on his feet. His swings are purposeful, and his movements calculated. He's difficult to best during training sessions. I can show you how he would move by unsheathing my own blade, and then you should report to your chambers, too, Robert." a beat. "How much of this will you be able to see? Your eyes almost look crossed. They're so… peculiar looking just now." Guy remarked with a frown.

"The sword is large so I will be able to see how you swing it. It's details I have trouble with. Like… your facial features right now. I see… two of everything." Robert sighed as he rubbed his eyes.

"You sure there's nothing wrong, Robert?"

"Very sure. It's been this way since boyhood. Resting them restores my vision. It's just one of those things, how my body responds to extreme fatigue. With me, my sight is altered." Robert said.

"Very well." Guy said as he took his own sword from his scabbard. "This is how he would generally hold it." he said as he wielded it. "And he would swing it, kind of like this… "

It was nearing midday as Lady Rhiannon had carefully arranged a spot near the bed where she could sit comfortably and read, while being ready for the needs of her betrothed. She had recently assisted Thomas with propping up her betrothed and giving him a measure of the wine and cloves mixture. The Sheriff fell back to sleep easily after that, and Thomas inspected the dressing, then changed out the leeches. He told her he would return in a few hours. She brought an extra chair over to the chair between the window and bed, and placed a pillow upon it. Then, she seated herself, resting her legs on the extra chair. On a table beside her was a goblet of water and her book.

She had managed to read three or four pages of Erec and Enide when she heard a knock at the main door. She set the book down and made her way out of the bedchamber and through the den.

She opened it and the sentry announced Lady Meridwyn was there to see her. She nodded and held the door open for Meridwyn.

"Just thought I'd stop by to see if there's anything you need, honey." Meridwyn said as Rhiannon closed the door.

"I thought you'd be resting? You were up most of the night, and you're with child. That can't be good for — "

"I'm fine. I had loads of rest afterward. It's you I'm worried about." Meridwyn said.

"I'm doing well." Rhiannon smiled.

"And how is my brother in law?"

"Sleeping endlessly, but Thomas says that is to be expected. He's been taking a wine and cloves mixture every couple of hours, and there's another treatment Thomas is utilizing to help the purulence inside the wound."

"Oh? What is that?"

"Trust me, Meridwyn. You don't want to know. But it seems to be working. I think the fever might be finally breaking. He doesn't feel as hot to the touch, and he's been sweating." Rhiannon said.

"Finally some good news, Rhiannon!" Meridwyn smiled. "That is very good to hear. This must be quite tedious for you, though."

"It is mostly a waiting game, but it is how it must be. I want to be near when he finally comes around."

"Of course, you do. If you decide you need anything, summon for me at once. You don't have to do everything alone, dearest. I don't know how you're managing with only one arm free." Meridwyn sighed.

"Thank you, Meridwyn. I'm managing quite well. It's only a temporary adjustment. I've been trying to read. I may doze off while I do that. I've been keeping my legs elevated. I've got a couple of chairs set up by the bed. One is for my legs."

"Good thinking. Do you have any pain?"

"No. It's quite manageable." Rhiannon smiled.

"Has he said much to you?" Meridwyn inquired, curiously.

"No. Not really. I can see he's exhausted."

"That must be strange to you to see him… so quiet for such a long length of time."

"Yes. It is. He's not known to be the strong, silent type, that is certain. It takes some getting used to, to see him in the state he's been in." Rhiannon sighed.

"It sounds like he's on the mend, though. From what you've said."

"Yes. I'm grateful, but still cautious. Thank you for keeping me calm during the night, dearest. I'm very thankful." Rhiannon smiled.

"Of course, Rhi. Remember, summon me if you need anything at all. I'll let you get back to him." Meridwyn smiled. She kissed Rhiannon's cheek before she left.

Rhiannon had just seated herself upon the chair and opened her book when Mortianna arrived to the room carrying a cup of something steamy.

"Wheatgrass tea for ye, Milady. Ye mustn't forget your own needs in times like these, child." Mortianna said as she set the cup on the table beside Rhiannon.

"Yes. Thomas said something similar to me just after the procedure was completed." she said.

"Because, it's true." Mortianna said.

"Are you alright, Mortianna?"

"Yes, child. Why do you ask?" the witch asked, her eyes narrowed, suspiciously.

"Because he's your… Sheriff." Rhiannon said. She was glad she stopped herself from saying "nephew".

"I admit, it's a bit alarming to see him like this; but he is strong and has much to look forward to." the witch said. She walked over to the bedside and lightly touched the Sheriff's forehead. "It appears the fever is breaking, child. That's encouraging." she whirled around to face Rhiannon then. "Rest as much as ye can, and be sure to drink that tea. I'll bring ye more of it in a few hours time."

"Thank you, Mortianna. Each and every time one of us is down, you are the one constant. I don't know how we'd fare without you." Rhiannon smiled as she sipped of the tea, which she found tasted good, surprisingly.

"You don't need to think about that, child. I shall be here for ye whenever ye need. I might be a bit older, but I manage quite well." Mortianna smiled, before taking her leave.

Floria had just stepped outside of her quarters. She was growing restless being shut inside there. She hadn't seen anyone since Luke took Madam Birghiva back to the brothel on Monday morning. She found that a bit odd. She thought perhaps the Sheriff would want a word with her at some point but, oddly, he never showed. Then, she wondered if Luke might come by again to check on her. He never came. Nor did Lady Rhiannon, which she also found strange, as she was so attentive to Floria on Saturday night when Luke brought her back to the castle. Was the Sheriff reconsidering hiring her? She couldn't help but wonder.

She asked the sentry in the corridor to direct her to Madam Oberon's quarters as she was hired as Madam Oberon's assistant. The sentry directed her to the room beside her, the door to the left of hers. She thanked him and walked over to it. She gently wrapped on the door, not even sure what she was planning to say.

Madam Oberon opened the door and smiled.

"Ah! There you are, Mademoiselle Floria. You're settled into your quarters now?" Madam Oberon asked.

"Yes, Madam Oberon. I arrived on Saturday evening, a bit… unexpectedly. No one has come by to see me since yesterday morning, quite briefly. I'm uncertain of when exactly I'm meant to be starting my work, so I thought I would check in with you. I hope you'll forgive me for intruding." Floria said.

"No intrusion, Mademoiselle. Do come in, s'il vous plaît." Madam Oberon said as she held the door open for Floria.

"I'm wondering if something has happened, Madam Oberon? The Sheriff and his lady know I am here. Both of them saw me on Saturday night when I was escorted here by one of his top men. Then, I saw Sir Gisborne a few times on Sunday. He seemed like he was quite busy. It feels like… something is wrong?"

"Whatever it is, it is naught to do with you, Mademoiselle. I am confident of that. Mon Seigneur Sheriff was most eager to have you assist me. He had no qualms about hiring you at all." the Seamstress smiled, warmly.

"I do hope you're right, Madam." Floria sighed.

"From my perspective, you shall begin now, Mademoiselle, if that is agreeable?"

"Of course, Madam Oberon." Floria smiled. "I'm eager to begin. I've been cooped up in my rooms since Saturday night. I kept myself busy with sketches, but there's only so much sketching I can do before I'm eager to get a needle and thread into my hand."

"Oui. I concur. Come. Let me show you what I've been working on. I've been adding the finishing touches to Mademoiselle Rhiannon's gown." Madam Oberon said as she beckoned for Floria to join her in her salon.

"Very well. I should like that, Madam Oberon." Floria nodded.

In mid afternoon, the men had split up into groups of two for the search mission. Drake and Adam were pleased to be paired together, as they often were not, aside from manning the portcullis. They were covering the outskirts of the Village, closest to Sherwood, when they happened upon a quaint small manor. They dismounted and secured their horses, then walked the cobblestone path toward the front door.

"I think there's an older man who lives here. Let's see if he's seen the stumpy bloke we're looking for." Drake suggested.

"Good plan." Adam agreed.

They were surprised when they saw who opened the door. It was the raven haired lady who came to the castle on Thursday evening, imploring them to speak to the Sheriff.

"Well, that was fast. How did you find me?" Lady Gunilda asked them, curiously.

"We're not here for you, Miss. We're looking for a man. We were hoping you might have seen him?" Adam said.

"Oh, I see." the comely lady smiled.

"Are you visiting someone, Miss?" Drake asked, curiously.

"I've recently acquired this property. It belonged to my uncle. He passed away recently and left everything to me. I'm the sole surviving heir." Gunilda explained.

"Interesting turn of events, Miss. what exactly did he bequeath to you?" Adam asked.

"Everything. His home, property, all moveable goods, his horse." she said. She didn't mention the coffers. These men didn't need to know everything, and she was already regretting her verbosity with the rest of it.

"I see." Drake nodded. He could tell she was a bit older, perhaps close to the age of the Sheriff; but she was quite comely for a lady of her age.

"Whom is it you're looking for? I just returned not long ago. I was visiting the shops. Perhaps I might have seen him if you could describe him to me?" Lady Gunilda asked them.

"Yes. Well, he's rather… short." Drake began.

"And stout, too." Adam added.

"He has balding ginger hair, and more than one chin." Drake said.

"He sort of resembles… a potato. Or a tree stump, depending on how you… look at him." Adam said. He scoffed.

"Ah! Sounds rather unfortunate. Not the most attractive man in the Village, then?" Gunilda smirked as she gave Drake a knowing look.

"I suppose not, Miss. That is correct." Drake nodded, then looked downcast.

"I'd remember a man like that. No. I haven't seen anyone who looks like how you described him. Would you like to come in for a cup of tea?" she asked them both.

"No, thank you, Miss. We must decline. We've a lot of ground to cover before we return." Drake said.

"That's too bad. Perhaps another time, then?" Gunilda smiled, grateful they didn't fall for her bluff.

Celestria was sleeping in her room at the moment, but Gunilda couldn't be certain when Celestria would awaken.

"Thank you for your time, Miss. If you should see him, we'd appreciate it if you could alert us." Adam said.

"Of course." Gunilda smiled. She wished them good fortune in finding the wanted man and watched them take their leave.

There was something about the taller, dark haired one that caught her attention. Gunilda sighed, then went back inside.

Lady Rhiannon sighed as she placed her book on the table beside her. She arose from her chair and walked over to the bed. The Sheriff was still sleeping, having been only awakened a few times briefly to take the wine and cloves mixture.

She climbed up on the bed beside him. He didn't move in response to the bed shifting. She sat beside him, facing him and holding his hand.

"My love, I am here. It's been so long since you were fully awake. I may need to step outside the chambers once Mortianna returns with some wheatgrass tea for me. It's deathly quiet in here without you. You're here, yet you're enveloped in this cursed slumber. I know I was like this a time or two for much longer than you have been sleeping. I don't know how you got through it?

"But, you did. You had plenty of things to occupy you. I've a book, George. It's not the best distraction. How I long for you to awaken. To hear your voice. Sleep, my sweet, but come back to me soon. It's haunting seeing you like this." Rhiannon whispered as a tear fell down her cheek.

She stretched out beside him, facing him. She looked upon him for a time, then soon found her eyelids grew heavy. She fell into a sleep as she held his hand.

Lady Rhiannon awakened a couple of hours later. She sat up and turned to her left to look upon him. He was in the same position, laying supine against the pillows. She grabbed the flask of clove infused wine from the bedside table, then propped him up, encouraging him to take some. He took a good measure of it, then swiftly returned to his sleep, saying nary a word to her.

She was standing at the table with the mirror, splashing cool water on her face from the basin there. She grabbed a soft towel to pat her face dry, when Mortianna entered the room with her wheatgrass tea.

"Thank you, Mortianna." Rhiannon said as she took the cup from her and sipped of it.

"Have ye been able to rest, Milady?" the witch asked.

"Yes. It's so eerily quiet in here, it's easy to nod off from time to time." Rhiannon said.

"Indeed, child. Ye are also healing. It's natural ye would be needing rest."

"Of course. I'd also like to clear my head." Rhiannon said as she drank more of the tea.

"I see." Mortianna said.

"Would you sit with him for a bit? Maybe if I went for a short walk to the balcony to get a breath of air I'd feel better? It wouldn't be for long." Rhiannon said.

"Of course. Ye best take your cape, Milady. It's chilly today, and a light rain has just started. I think a storm may be coming." Mortianna cautioned.

"Very well. I should be warm enough in this wool gown, and the cape. I won't be long at all. I just need a quick reprieve." Rhiannon said as she put the cup on the table.

The witch nodded and took a seat on the chair beside the bed.

Rhiannon grabbed her cape and put it on over her rust coloured velvet gown, then took her leave.

The Sheriff was deep in sleep once more. Yet, it was as if he were watching everyone and everything — including himself upon the bed — from up above, somehow. He had no idea how this was happening, but he wondered if this was what it was like to be dead? Am I dead?

"Good morrow, Father." Sela said, as she suddenly appeared beside him.

They were both floating. Or… perhaps they were flying? He couldn't really tell which. He just felt weightless.

"Oh, good! You're back, Daughter. I thought I'd never see you again?"

"I'm here to show you some things, Father." Sela smiled up at him.

She was much closer in proximity to him this time. She reached out and grasped his hand. He sighed with pure contentment.

"Am I dead, Sela?" he asked.

"You mean like… how I am? I guess I'm dead. Do I look it?"

"No, child. Of course not. I can see light reflecting in your eyes, and on your shiny dark curls. Your hand feels warm. No, Daughter. You don't seem dead to me." the Sheriff smiled.

"But, I don't exist where you and Mother, and my elder brother do. So, technically, I am. But you are not, Father. You're only here for a visit with me. I'm meant to show you why it's not your time to join us."

"Very well. What is it you must show me?"

"A few things, Father." Sela said.

In the very next moment, they were floating at the balcony. Rhiannon was there, holding on to the ledge with her free hand, looking down over it, a tear rolling down her cheek. The hood of her black velvet cape was up, and she held the edges of it close about her.

"Oh, George.… I wish you could hear me somehow. I've whispered into your ear so much, I feel like a mad woman. Thomas tells me to keep talking to you. What's the point if you cannot hear me? What is the point of anything? Without you, there is no point. How the hell do I get through to you?" she sighed. She turned and noticed an empty goblet on the stone floor of the balcony. She walked over to it and bent down to pick it up. "Looks like yours, George. Were you out here recently? Sipping of your brandy? " she whispered as she grasped it and held it to her. She walked back to her previous spot at the ledge, and inhaled the chill autumn air, letting the soft rain wash over her.

"Damn it! Whom will I share all of our memories with? Without you, those memories will be like stolen dreams. Like… my dreams of you, before we even met. What was the point of following those dreams? They led me to you. I'm meant to be with you. And… whom will I share the memory of our sweet baby daughter with? She was ours, George. We just lost her. Not you, too." Lady Rhiannon whispered.

"Oh, Mother… " Sela whispered, in a moment of yearning.

"I know it's futile to be standing out here on the balcony, whispering to you… as if in prayer. You'd laugh if you could see it. But, I've tried whispering in your ear. I talk to you when we're alone, hoping I'll get through. That you'll hear me, somehow? Now, I'm hoping I can somehow reach your soul. You need to know that I need you beside me. The life we've created is meaningless if you're not with me. Oh, hear my plea… somehow, my sweet." Rhiannon whispered, solemnly, and looked downcast.

"Is this… actually happening, Daughter? Right now?" the Sheriff asked.

"Yes. Mother asked Mortianna to sit with you for a short while. She's been at your side throughout. Everything you shall see is currently happening, or has already happened this day in the reality you've escaped from. My job is to get you back there." Sela explained.

"I see… sort of." he said. He looked upon Rhiannon. She looked so… lost and… numb. Like, she was in shock. "I'm coming, my angel. Do not give up." he whispered.

"You had better, Father — or I haven't done my job correctly. Next location!" Sela exclaimed with a giggle.

In a flash, they were gone from the balcony. Next, they were inside what appeared to be the kitchen. Jean Louis was there. Several staff were milling about, performing various chores from food preparation and cooking, to washing and drying dishes and cutlery. For some odd reason, Luke was there, speaking to Jean Louis. He was passing the chef a note.

"Now, Father, this event happened earlier today. In the morning. I don't know why, but I was meant to show you this. I do know that Luke is your most faithful Knight."

"That is very true. What do you suppose they are talking about?"

"I'm not sure. All we can do is listen in to their conversation." Sela said.

The Sheriff nodded, then he looked to Luke and Jean Louis.

"So, you're one of the top men? I do believe I've seen you on occasion in the Dining Hall with the other men." Jean Louis said.

"Yes. Milord Sheriff is… under the weather. I wonder if it would be too much trouble for you to prepare this for him? It's one of the few things I can think of that I can do to help." Luke said as he passed Jean Louis a folded parchment.

The chef took it, unfolded it, and began to read it. He smiled as he glanced at it, then looked up.

"Ah! Soupe au poulet. Oui! I have these ingredients on hand at the moment, Officer Luke. I shall be glad to prepare it for him. Une merveilleuse pensée!"

"Thank you, Jean Louis. I greatly appreciate your help in this matter. I'd offer to do it myself, but I don't wish to intrude in your kitchen, and I doubt I would do as well with it as you, as I'm not thinking straight. It was a… long night." Luke explained. He looked down a moment and sighed.

"He was by your side all night, Father. He knew something was wrong, so he took over guard duty at your door. When Mother told him she needed the medicus, Luke had him there in moments, and stayed throughout the entire ordeal. Uncle Guy sent Luke to his chambers after a meeting this morning, but Luke came here first." Sela smiled.

"I still can't figure out what he's doing, Sela?" he asked, curiously.

"He's doing a very good thing for you, Father. You shall soon see when you return."

"He is like a son to me. I haven't trusted a man as much as I do him since your Uncle Guy… or Nic." the Sheriff said.

"He's devoted to you, Father. I do wish I could find this Nic fellow you keep mentioning, however. Oh, well… Come. We're not finished yet." she grinned at him.

In the next moment, they were in the Council Quarters. Guy was there speaking to Robert.

"This happened just after the meeting this morning, Father." Sela said.

"Alright. Why is Gis running about with his sword unsheathed? I don't understand?"

"He's showing Uncle Robert something. It may not make sense right away when you return, but it will eventually, I am told. All we can do is listen."

"Very well." he nodded.

"So, he really moves, kind of like that?" Robert asked.

"Yes. He moves fast. As I said, he's difficult to best during training sessions." Guy nodded. "The point is to keep moving, anticipating your opponent's every move. My cousin excels at that."

"Does he swing it? Or, does he… just go for it, aiming straight for the target and running them through?" Robert asked.

"What in the devil?" Nottingham whispered.

"Careful what you say around here, Father." Sela warned.

"Right. I… forgot for a moment." he frowned.

"It depends on the situation. He can do both. Easily." Guy said.

"Very well. That kind of makes the task easy, then. Next, I'll just need to confer with you about the details for the —"

At this point, Sela quickly covered both of the Sheriff's ears with her hands.

"What are you doing, Daughter?"

"It's a surprise, Father! You must not listen to that part."

"You're shouting, Sela. Can't they hear you?"

"No. They cannot." Sela smirked.

After a few moments, she removed her hands from his ears, and grasped his hand once more.

"It is truly strange to be planning things without him, to be holding meetings without him." Robert said, with a slight shake of his head.

"Indeed." Guy nodded.

"Has this ever happened before, Sir Guy?"

"Never. He's been in excellent health as long as I can remember." Guy said.

"Let us hope he wakes soon, restored, and on a good path toward healing." Robert nodded.

"I truly hope so. I shall do my best to cover in his stead, but it's not the same. I'm glad to have you and the Duke to lean on during this time." Guy sighed and looked downcast, while he sheathed his sword.

"I shall be with you soon, Cousin. Hopefully, you can explain why you were dancing around the meeting chamber, wielding your sword. Wish I knew what in the dev — what that was about." Nottingham said, softly. He noticed Robert was rubbing his eyes quite frequently. "What is wrong with Robert, Sela?" he asked.

"Uncle Robert and Aunt Isabelle were with you in the bedchamber all night, as well, Father. Uncle Robert is having trouble with his vision from lack of sleep. Aunt Isabelle was acting like a medicus would, assisting Thomas Crumwell, most expertly. Uncle Robert held the torch. Luke was there to assist. Mother was there, except for a few brief moments. Mortianna stayed throughout, and Uncle Guy was present for some of it, too." Sela said.

"I see. I have some thanking to do when I get back."

"Of course, Father. We've one more place to visit." Sela said.

She squeezed his hand firmly, and in a flash, they were in another location entirely — Guy's manor in Nettlestone.

The Sheriff took a deep inhale as he saw his son sitting on the floor, playing with his rattle. He was smiling and laughing. Lady Margaret strolled into the room and placed a tray on the table.

"Hungry, laddie?" she smiled.

"Mil!" the boy laughed.

"Yes, dear boy. We have milk and puréed carrots for your dining enjoyment." Lady Margaret smiled as she went to him and picked him up. She took a seat on a chair, sat him on her lap and began feeding him.

"My son… " the Sheriff whispered.

"It's strange to see my older brother as a baby while I'm like this, I must say. But, I've had a quick glimpse of who he becomes. He needs you in order to become that man, Father." Sela said, firmly.

"We needed you, as well, Sela." he said as he squeezed her hand. Then, he brought her hand up to his lips and softly kissed it.

"It's not our place to question why that could not be. I don't know the answer. I just know that it will be revealed to us, in time."

"Sela? Am I going to remember this? Our… time together? My dear girl, I never want to forget this." the Sheriff said, softly.

"That, I do not know, Father. I hope you won't forget, too. This was like a present, being with you. But, even if you forget, your soul will know. It will guide you." Sela smiled.

"I… do not know if I'm ready to go back, Daughter. I don't… wish to part from you." he sighed, and looked downcast.

"I shall always be with you and Mother. My brother, too. This is how it must be, Father. If my love could hold you, you'd never leave me, but it is not time. It's not time for you to join us, Father. Not yet. Mother and my brother need you. Your niece is getting ready to join you all soon, as well. Right before you know it… she'll be there." Sela smiled.

"Niece? Guy was right?"

"I don't know about Uncle Guy having too much to do with it… beyond the obvious, but, yes. Perhaps I've told you too much. Oh. Except, one thing." she hinted.

"What is it?"

"Consider someone you'd least expect as a good espial for you. I believe you've already… sort of met." she hinted.

"Surely, you don't mean my escaped prisoner?" the Sheriff huffed.

"No, Father. He's all wrong for it, anyway. The one I refer to is a lady. You've met her. It shall come to you, Father." Sela said.

"Can you not tell me who she is?" he asked.

"No. It has to be you who makes that decision. I cannot bias your thinking. But, you will know. Your gut is always right. It will lead you." Sela smiled.

She squeezed his hand, and in another quick flash, they were back in the private chambers.

"Go back. Arise from the bed. Sit upon that chair by the window. She will be there with you in moments." Sela directed him, pointing to the chair.

"No, child. Do not leave me yet. I am not ready." the Sheriff whispered, firmly.

"I must, Father. I can't keep you here any longer, or you'll never get back."

"When will we meet again?"

"From time to time. Or, in three days time, or… the month of May."

"Wait. Didn't you say the same thing yesterday? Wouldn't that be two days — "

"Three days time, or the month of May." she giggled.

"Back to riddles, I see." he sighed. "No, Sela. I'm not ready."

"I love you, dear Father." she smiled as she released his hand from her grasp. "Now, go. Get back. Arise. Go to the chair. It's time, Father." she said, then kissed his cheek.

"Sela!"

"It's time, Father… " her voice echoed as she faded into the distance… until she was no more.

Lady Rhiannon was returning to the private chambers. She didn't really wish to go back into the deathly quiet quarters, watching her betrothed lying there… like a breathing corpse, but she knew she needed to. She was pleased to see Luke was back on duty, guarding the door.

"Good afternoon, Luke." she smiled.

"Greetings, Lady Rhiannon. It is good to see you look rested now." he said.

"Yes. Although, I think it will be awhile before I can fully rest."

"And how is Milord Sheriff doing? Is he… improving?" he asked, tentatively.

"He's in a deep sleep, but he does respond when I awaken him to take a special wine that Thomas wants him to have. It's mixed with cloves." Rhiannon explained.

"Well, that's encouraging that he's able to be roused, isn't it?"

"I suppose, but… he just… looks awful in the intervals between doses of the wine. It's quite jarring to witness." she murmured.

"Have faith, Milady. Once he starts to feel better he will do everything he can to return to his regular life. You know this would frustrate him to no end." Luke attempted to assuage her.

"That is true. I'm just so grateful you were here. You knew exactly where to find Thomas."

"In fairness, Lady Rhiannon, the guard I took over from knew where Thomas was staying, as well. I just had a funny feeling I might be needed. I assisted Thomas in September when you were injured. From experience, I had an idea of what he would require." he said, modestly.

"Do not undervalue yourself, Luke. You are my betrothed's most trusted Knight. And for that matter, mine, too." she smiled.

She was incredibly relieved that he was there for them right now. Just knowing that made the idea of facing her betrothed laying in an interminable repose lift a weight from her shoulders.

"I thank you, Milady." Luke nodded. "If there is anything you, or the medicus needs, I am here to serve."

"Thank you, Luke. I appreciate that more than you know." Rhiannon smiled as she opened the door. Then, she stepped inside.

Rhiannon unfastened the ribbons from her cape and removed it, placing it over a chair. She was taking her time and she knew it, but she was nervous about heading back inside the bedchamber.

She inhaled a few deep breaths, smoothed her skirt, then walked toward the doors and opened them.

She gasped when she saw the sight before her.

The Sheriff was alone in the bedchamber, but he wasn't laying on the bed. He was seated on the chair that she had sat in recently. His eyes were open and he appeared to be looking straight into hers, but when she paused a moment to take it in, she realized he never blinked. He sat there looking at her as if he were a statue. Motionless, and staring into her eyes. She was fearful, and haunted by it.

"God damn it, George!" Rhiannon shouted and ran to him.

She tried to gently shake him.

"George! My love! What the hell is happening?" she exclaimed.

She fell to her knees and rested her head on his lap, placing her hand upon his knee.

"Oh, my God. I'm too late! How can this be? How did you get yourself over to this chair, and just… die like this? I was only away from you a few moments. What? George!" she cried.

Rhiannon began to weep as she held onto his knee with her left hand. The soft velvet of his black breeches was a comfort to her, even though he was lifeless. This went on for a few minutes, and then, she stiffened when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"George?" she asked, completely bewildered. "Is that just… one of those dead people reflexes I've heard about? Damn it, do not tease me! What a cruel joke this — "

"My angel." the Sheriff whispered.

"George!" she shouted as she quickly stood before him, placing her hand upon his shoulders. "Oh, thank God! You're breathing!"

"Of course… my lady." the Sheriff whispered as he looked into her eyes with a bewildered expression on his face. As if he just awoke.

"My sweet, what just happened?" Rhiannon implored him.

"I… do not know. Did you… put me in this… chair?"

"No. How on earth would you think I'd be strong enough to do that? One arm in a cursed sling, and with no one assisting me? I can do a lot of things, but I couldn't do that." she smiled as she wiped a tear from her cheek.

"I don't know… how I got here? Do you think I was… sleepwalking?"

"Possibly. I'm not certain. All I can tell you is I thought you were dead. But it appears you were sleeping — with your eyes open, if you can imagine such a frightful sight! You were looking right at me, but you never blinked." Rhiannon shuddered.

"Hmm. I guess that explains why my eyes feel like… there's sand in them." the Sheriff muttered as he rubbed them.

"You should probably lay down, sugar. You've been in repose almost twenty four hours, off and on."

"Then, that is… twenty four hours too long. Wasted." the Sheriff sighed.

"No. Not wasted, George. It was needed. You don't understand. You very nearly died!" Rhiannon exclaimed.

"The… arrow injury." Nottingham muttered.

"Yes! It became purulent, and something was missed by the first medicus. You were bleeding internally and out through the wound. Thank God for Luke. He had Thomas here in no time."

"Luke?"

"Yes."

"I want to… sit here a bit longer."

"Very well. But soon, I shall assist you back to bed. You're still recovering." she said, firmly.

"You're going to… make me… hate that bed." he whispered.

"It won't do you any good if you fall asleep sitting up again. My sweet, you haven't been able to keep your eyes open for the longest time."

"Did I… say anything?" he asked, curiously.

"Hardly anything at all. I've been dying to hear your voice." she smiled.

"Good. You're not… sick of it. Yet." he smiled.

"Never. I could never be, George. Anyway, now that you're awake, it is time for your next dose." she said as she walked over to the bedside table. She picked up the flask that the wine mixture was in. "Oh, no. It appears to be empty." she muttered.

"Dose? Of what?" he asked, suspiciously.

Just then, Mortianna came into the bedchamber with another flask in her hand.

"Oh, my! You're awake, Milord. And upright, too — sort of." Mortianna said.

"Weren't you with him, Mortianna?" Rhiannon asked.

"Yes, child. I was. But I noticed we needed more wine and cloves mixture. The other flask is near empty. I left moments ago to get it. When I left he was laying supine, in a deep slumber. I was thinking we'd have a time waking him to take this." a beat. "Did you — "

"I did not move him to the chair. I found him like this. He was sleeping… with his eyes open, sitting on this chair." Rhiannon explained.

"Blood of my blood!" Mortianna whispered.

"It's alright, Madam. I'm… alive, as you can see." the Sheriff sighed. "I even feel tingly." he added with a frown. He looked down and reached for his lower abdomen.

"It's probably just the wound healing, my sweet! You mustn't touch the bandage." Rhiannon said, abruptly. She knew full well what he was feeling, but now was not the time to draw his attention to… them.

"Of course. I would agree with her, Milord. Now, it is time for your next dose. Do not argue, and take a measure of this, won't ye?" Mortianna said as she passed him the flask.

"What are you… giving me?" he asked.

"It is wine infused with cloves. Thomas requested it. It will heal your blood. Ye lost a lot of it, you see." Mortianna replied.

He took it from her and peered inside of the flask.

"Right. I think… I remember Thomas ordered the same… for my lady once." a beat. "Yes. After the cursed knife wound."

"Indeed. And look how well it worked for me? You need to take a good measure of it every couple of hours, George. Until Thomas says otherwise." Rhiannon instructed.

"Very well." he frowned, then took a good swallow of it from the flask. He passed it back to Mortianna.

"It's done. What now? I need… something to… rid me of the… taste of that." he whispered.

"Perhaps I could send for a tray? You haven't eaten a thing since yesterday." Rhiannon said.

"Right. I vaguely remember that." he said.

"Do you think you could eat something?" she asked.

"Perhaps, but… not much."

"Very well. I'll send word to Jean Louis to send you up something light." Rhiannon smiled, then headed to the doors.

Once the door opened, Luke jolted to attention.

"Do you need anything, Lady Rhiannon? Shall I summon the medicus?" Luke asked.

"No. There's no need for that. He's awakened now. Can you send someone to fetch him a tray from the kitchen? He's ready to eat, but he wants something light."

"Very well. I shall summon a servant to retrieve a tray from the kitchen." he smiled, grateful to hear the good news. Then, he straightened his expression. "Might I make a suggestion, Milady?"

"Alright?" Rhiannon shrugged, narrowing her eyes upon his.

"As well as direct a servant, or the Page — whomever I see first, to get the request to the kitchen; I suggest you permit me to notify Sir Gisborne of the positive change in Milord's status. He is family, and he's in command in Milord's stead. Respectfully, he deserves to know." Luke advised, strongly.

She paused a moment, frowning as she contemplated his suggestion.

"I hate to say it, but you're right." Rhiannon sighed. "Yes, he should know. I just… wonder if I should run it by my betrothed before Sir Guy turns up, catching him off guard. You know how prideful he is, Luke. He would want fair warning." she said with a knowing quirk of her brow.

"I will suggest Sir Gisborne give it some time before he comes to visit. Would that be agreeable?"

"Very well. That will give me time to prepare him for it."

"I shall begin my tasks now, Lady Rhiannon." Luke nodded.

"Thank you, Luke." she said, before heading back inside.

Rhiannon returned to the bedchamber, grateful to see he was still awake, not nodding off as she had expected he would. Mortianna took leave of them to grant them some privacy, saying she'd be returning in a couple of hours to bring the lady's tea to her.

"Come, my lady. Sit… with me. There's an extra chair here… with a pillow on it, oddly." the Sheriff grinned.

"Yes, my sweet. That was what I was resting my legs on while I was reading, in between the times I was trying to get through to you." Rhiannon said as she walked to the chair. She moved the pillow from it and took a seat beside him.

"Did the bleeding stop?" he asked.

"Yes. The bandage has been dry since Thomas and Isabelle applied it. Just a few hours predawn." Rhiannon smiled.

"That is good to know. I'm sorry I… gave you a fright." he sighed.

"George?"

"Yes, my angel?"

"You know I love you, but… sod off! Don't you ever do that to me again. Don't hide a possible mortal injury; and damn you for sitting there sleeping with your cursed eyes open, having me think you're a corpse! I love you, but damn you, George." she huffed.

"Alright, angel." he chuckled. He grabbed at his lower left side as the act of laughing caused slight discomfort.

"It's not funny, George!" she pouted.

"Oh, I know. I've been there a time or two… with you." he whispered.

"I'm glad you're… back. So… you won't mind if… your cousin drops by in awhile?"

"I don't know, Rhiannon. I'm not all that… presentable." the Sheriff frowned.

"You're fully dressed." she pointed out.

"Yes, but… I've been wearing these clothes in bed. For a… long while, you tell me."

"Do you think he's coming to scrutinize your clothing, my sweet? Everyone has been concerned about you. He saw you when blood was pouring from you."

"And knowing that is… bad enough. Fine, just grab me my robe, then. I'll throw it on over this to hide… the wrinkles in them." he said, indicating his tunic and breeches.

"Very well. We have some time before then." she smiled.

He reached out and smoothed her hair.

"You shouldn't have… been out on the balcony, my angel. I can hear the rain falling… through the window behind me. Your hair is damp. You're still healing. You mustn't get… a chill." the Sheriff whispered.

Rhiannon looked at him, attempting to conceal the horror upon her face.

"Wait… how did you know I was out on the balcony? I didn't tell you I was there." she asked, shaking her head.

"I am not certain. I… just know. You were… talking to me."

"What! George?" she exclaimed with a shudder. How on earth could he have possibly known this?

"Weren't you? Talking about… our shared memories becoming like…stolen dreams if I… didn't come back to you? Something like that… " he sighed as he shook his head.

"What in the devil? Alright, now you're scaring me, George." Rhiannon said as she stood from her chair and looked upon him, she grabbed her sling with her left hand, in an attempt at folding her arms. "Please explain how you could possibly know any of this. I was alone on the balcony. There was no one there, or near there. How would you know where I was for a brief few moments, and what I was doing there?"

"I have… no idea. But, somehow… I heard you. I could… see it, too." he whispered.

"What?"

"Yes. I could see you there, hear your words… some of them." he whispered.

"How very odd. Maybe… being ill gave you unexplained powers of some sort?" Rhiannon mused.

"I remember… other things." he whispered, then looked downcast.

"What is it, my love?" she asked as she put her hand on his cheek. "Good. You're only slightly warm now." she smiled as she resumed sitting and held his hand.

"These strange memories. They come in waves. Like… they're part of a dream." the Sheriff said, softly.

"Perhaps it's flashes of dreams playing over in your mind?"

"It was like… being outside of my body. I saw you on the balcony. How? I was in here, my angel. I was… unconscious. But, I saw you whispering. You had… tears coming down your face. You picked up a goblet from… the floor."

"I did. Oh, my God! How can this be? Was that… your soul? Somehow… watching over me?" she asked, as she looked at him in horror and shuddered.

"I do not know, my lady. Someone was… there. Showing me these… various scenes." he said as he narrowed his eyes, pondering the possibilities.

"My love, do not worry yourself thinking of such things. It matters not. You're here now. Looking almost like… yourself again." Rhiannon said.

"But now, I have… a battle wound. Except, it's not. It's from a… fool who doesn't know the… basic rules of weapons use." he sighed.

"Who cares? You're alive, George! Except… in time, I'd like to know whom the fool was who did this to you." Rhiannon said.

"I will tell you about it, my lady." he said. He sighed. "Not just now."

"Of course, my love." she smiled.

Just then, there was knock on the door. She excused herself and headed through the bedchamber, then out through the den. She opened the door and was surprised to see Jean Louis was there holding a tray.

"Oh! Bonsoir, Jean Louis." Rhiannon said.

"Greetings, Mademoiselle Rhiannon. I have something specially prepared for mon Seigneur Sheriff. I wanted to deliver it personally." Jean Louis said.

"Do come in." Rhiannon smiled as she held the door open for him. "He's seated in the bedchamber. I'll take you inside."

Within moments, they were in the bedchamber. Nottingham was visibly surprised to see his chef bringing the tray into the room.

"Bonsoir, mon Seigneur Sheriff. I have prepared a special soup for you at the request of another. I did a taste test. It's perfect for whatever ails you." Jean Louis smiled.

He set the tray on a table and brought the bowl over to the Sheriff, along with a spoon.

"What do you mean — at the request of another?" the Sheriff asked as his eyebrow shot north, curiously.

"This is not my recipe, mon Seigneur Sheriff. Just try it." Jean Louis encouraged him.

The Sheriff looked at him strangely, but scooped a little of the soup onto his spoon and tasted it. He narrowed his eyes a moment, then a pleasing smile came over him as he swallowed it.

"This is good, Jean Louis. Now, can you tell me? Whose recipe is this? Do I know them?"

"Oui, mon Seigneur Sheriff. You know him. It is Officer Luke's recipe." Jean Louis said.

"Wait… what?" he asked, incredulously.

"Oui. He brought me the recipe this morning and asked me to prepare it for you."

Nottingham narrowed his eyes for a moment, and then he remembered what Luke said to him the day he hired him, when he asked Luke to list his skills:

"Well, I'm good at riding. Good with a bow. I'm a fast runner. I write rather well, and I can cook!"

"He was right. He can cook." Nottingham chuckled.

"He gave me the recipe. I prepared it, however." Jean Louis said.

"And obviously… the lad can cook… if he concocted the recipe." the Sheriff pointed out.

"Indeed, mon Seigneur Sheriff." Jean Louis nodded.

"Merci, Jean Louis." Rhiannon smiled.

"Thank you. It's delightful, Jean Louis." Nottingham said.

"De rien, mon Seigneur Sheriff." Jean Louis smiled, then turned to take his leave.

"What did he say, my lady?" the Sheriff whispered.

"He said you're welcome. Don't mention it." Rhiannon smiled. "What a nice surprise to find out that is Luke's recipe."

"Indeed. He told me he… could cook the day I hired him. When I asked about his skills, he listed all of the particulars I'd expect, and added that part at the end — that he can cook."

"And you like it?"

"Yes, my lady." he smiled as he swallowed another mouthful.

"Good, my love. You must finish it. You must be starving."

"Not really, but this is going down… perfectly."

Within moments, another servant arrived with another tray with a bowl of the same soup for Lady Rhiannon, as well as bread, cheese, and fruit for them both.

They had just eaten some of the soup and some bread, when there was another knock on the main door. Rhiannon grabbed the Sheriff's black silk quilted robe from the foot of the bed and gave it to him to put on, then took her book from the table as she went to open the door. She had a feeling it would be Sir Guy. She put the book upon the sofa in the den before heading to the door.

She opened the door, and he was standing there beside Luke.

"Good evening, Sir Guy." Lady Rhiannon smiled.

"Good evening, Lady Rhiannon. Did I allow enough time before coming by?" he asked.

"Of course. Do come in." she said as she held the door open. "He's seated on a chair in the bedchamber. You may go inside. I'll be reading in the den."

Guy nodded and stepped inside.

"Don't go too far, Luke. I've a feeling he will want to see you next." Rhiannon smiled.

"Very well, Lady Rhiannon. I shall be here on door duty." Luke nodded.

She smiled and went inside, taking a seat on the sofa in the den, and opening her book to give the men their privacy.

"Cousin." Guy said as he walked inside the bedchamber.

"How goes it, Gis?" Nottingham asked.

"Everything is running smoothly thus far. I'm very glad to see you looking a bit better than the… last time I saw you." Guy said.

"Yes. So tedious, languishing in bed… all of that time." Nottingham sighed, with a shake of his head.

"But, you weren't languishing, Cousin. You didn't see what we did. The blood. I haven't seen that much blood since… " Guy let the words trail off. He didn't wish to remind his cousin of the state they found Lady Rhiannon in six months prior.

"I see."

"How are you feeling?" Guy asked.

"Not quite myself, but closer to it than I was… the last couple of days. And there's this… odd, tingly sensation… near the wound, I think?"

"Well, that is reassuring, indeed. Maybe it's a good sign of healing? It is good to see you up." Guy nodded.

"Any word on the results of the search today?"

"They haven't returned yet. I expect them to arrive shortly."

"Did Mordrid and Ancel go along with them?" Nottingham asked.

"Yes. I kept Luke back because he was present throughout the entire ordeal last night, from summoning Thomas, to assisting and seeing it through to the end. He was prepared to go, anyway; but I thought it best he catch up on sleep, then report back here for duty. He's guarding your door, Cousin." Guy explained.

"I agree. That was a good plan, Gis."

"I was just speaking to Robert not long ago, before Luke came to tell me the change in your status. We were wondering about going ahead with the Town Council meeting in your absence? Possibly scheduling it for Thursday to give enough time for everyone to assemble. I doubt you'll feel up to that on Monday. Even if you're feeling much better, your wedding is — "

"No. I think I'd like to be present, Gis — believe it, or not. I want to share the plans regarding the City Watch. We will not be sharing the plan to include espials in how we run things, however." Nottingham added with a knowing quirk of his brow.

"Of course, George. Understood." Guy nodded. Although, he wasn't really paying too much attention. All he could think of was the blood pouring from his cousin the night previous, and how pale he still appeared.

"Good." he nodded.

"I think both will be advantageous to us." Guy said.

"Agreed."

"What was that you just ate, Cousin? It smells tantalizing."

"Ah, yes. Do you recall the day I hired Luke? Remember the skills he listed when asked about them?"

"Yes, but… what has that to do with whatever you just ate?" Guy asked, curiously.

"His last point. He told us that day that he could cook."

"Right. I do remember now that you mention it. I'd forgotten all about that. We had a good chuckle over that, but — "

"Well, it turns out he can cook, Cousin." the Sheriff smirked.

"Are you telling me he was working in the kitchen instead of getting needed rest?"

"No. He gave a recipe to Jean Louis after your meeting this morning. Jean Louis prepared it and delivered it personally a short while ago. Honestly, you should taste it, Gis. It's — "

"Wait. How… do you know about the meeting? Did Luke tell you about it?" Guy asked, curiously.

"No. I haven't seen Luke since yesterday."

"I never mentioned there was a meeting this morning." Guy said with a curious quirk of his brow.

"Didn't you? Funny. I thought you did." Nottingham said with a shake of his head. "Anyway, taste the soup, Cousin. I have nothing you can catch."

"Alright." Guy nodded, still wondering how his cousin would know about the morning meeting.

The bowl was resting upon a table beside the Sheriff. Guy grabbed the spoon and put a small amount on it, then tasted the chicken soup.

"Oh, my! It really is delicious, Cousin. This was Luke's recipe?"

"Yes. Who knew? I didn't know what to make of it when he told us he could cook that day. I thought he just threw that point in there for good measure. Turns out, the lad is an actual cook — on top of everything else." Nottingham smiled.

"He is still dutifully guarding your door." Guy reminded him.

"Yes. I'm going to have a word with him shortly. He deserves due praise."

"Indeed." Guy nodded. "I guess that explains why he seemed to be writing more than what was spoken of at our meeting. He must have written out the recipe for Jean Louis, while also taking notes."

"Don't mention this to the men, Gis. I'm guessing he took great measures to keep that discreet. You know them. They would label him a bootlicker, or some such nonsense. They don't get it. He is not. He is genuinely thoughtful, and trustworthy."

"Agreed. I won't mention it, Cousin."

"Good." the Sheriff nodded.

"Have you seen anyone else today? Robert, perhaps?" Guy asked, still trying to work out how his cousin would know about the morning meeting. He didn't mind him knowing, but he couldn't figure out how his cousin knew?

"No, Gis. Besides you, the only people I've been in contact with today that I'm aware of are Lady Rhiannon, and Mortianna. And Jean Louis brought the soup."

"Oh. I see." Guy said. "I shouldn't keep you much longer. I'm thankful to see for myself that you're on the mend. I shall keep you apprised of any further developments."

"What's the plan if they find the stumpy bloke?"

"To apprehend him, and put him straight back in the dungeon — in an isolated cell this time." Guy said with a knowing glance.

"Very good." the Sheriff grinned, sardonically.

Rhiannon stood from the sofa when Guy entered the room, as he closed the doors of the bedchamber.

"Thank you, Lady Rhiannon. No doubt, your attentiveness to him has brought him around." Guy said.

"I wouldn't have it any other way, but I'm not the only one who has tended to him." she smiled.

"Have you… noticed anything different about him?" Guy asked, curiously.

"Well, he is more responsive than he's been since… about twenty four hours ago. This is the most I've seen from him. He could barely open his eyes when Mortianna and myself were propping him up, giving him a special wine Thomas prescribed. Then suddenly, he managed to walk from the bed to the chair, with no one present. I'm kind of… waiting for him to nod off any moment." Rhiannon sighed.

"It's reassuring, but I understand your reasoning for caution. He's also acting like he's almost… clairvoyant." Guy muttered.

Rhiannon stiffened when he mentioned it.

"What do you mean, Sir Guy?"

"He knew about a meeting that was held this morning. He knew about it, and when it happened. I hadn't yet mentioned it to him. Unless… you heard about it from Robert or Luke and told him, I'm not sure how he knew?"

"No, Sir Guy. Luke didn't mention it, and the last time I saw my brother was when he left these chambers after the procedure was completed." Rhiannon shrugged.

She didn't wish to mention to Guy her experience of the Sheriff seeing her alone on the balcony. It was too personal to her.

"I must put it out of my mind, or it will keep me awake tonight, wondering." Guy said, shaking his head.

"Indeed. I will keep you informed of any changes, Sir Guy."

Guy nodded and took his leave.

Just after Guy left, she was startled by the sound of the raised voice of her betrothed.

"Rhiannon! Come!" he bellowed.

She moved swiftly toward the bedchamber doors, terrified that the bleeding started back up again. She threw open the doors, expecting the worst.

"What is — " she stopped when she saw what was happening.

He had his tunic pulled up and was inspecting his abdomen.

"Rhiannon? What in the bleeding hell are these… damned leeches doing on my belly? What in the hell is going on?" Nottingham demanded.

Lady Gunilda was seated on a chair in the sitting room, sipping wine from a cup that was meant for tea. Celestria was so tired she had only awakened an hour ago, long after the Sheriff's men came calling looking for a man who was, no doubt, on the Sheriff's wanted list. Lady Gunilda was a bit surprised they didn't ask about Celestria, too. She wondered how long it would be before the Sheriff would have his men searching for her? Or, was he planning to take care of that personally?

The rabbit stew was simmering in a medium sized cauldron over the fire. It created a pleasing aroma that soothed her as she sipped of the wine, waiting for Celestria to come out of her room, wearing one of the gowns Gunilda purchased for her several hours ago.

Finally, the door to her room opened and Celestria stepped out.

"It's beautiful, Lady Gunilda! I just caught my reflection in the mirror. I don't know if I've ever looked this nice before?" Celestria beamed.

"It does suit you well, my dear. Come a little closer, so I can better examine the fit."

Celestria advanced toward her until she was close enough to touch her.

"Hmm. Yes. Very nice. Now, step back and turn around. I want to make sure the skirt is the right length."

Celestria moved away from her. She slowly turned and stood a moment, then turned back around to face her.

"I don't know how you did it? Though, I'm sure the bodice will fit better when I can get rid of the bandage on my left shoulder." Celestria frowned.

"I'm pleased it fits you." Gunilda smiled. "Do you feel up to a bit of wine?"

"Yes, that would be welcoming." Celestria said.

"Come, child. Sit." Gunilda directed her to one of the chairs.

Celestria nodded and seated herself.

Gunilda arose and went to a table where the flagon of wine was and poured some into a goblet. She brought it back and passed it to Celestria.

"Hungry?" Gunilda asked.

"I wasn't until I began to smell the stew that is cooking." Celestria said as she took a sip of wine.

"Good. You need some nourishment. And plenty of rest, as well. It's important for your recovery."

"And then… we head home?"

"Not for several days, at least, dear girl. How are you going to hold the reins and guide your horse with your shoulder in a state like that?"

"I never… considered that." Celestria muttered.

"Of course, you didn't. You've been unwell. You were injured and lost some blood. You're sleeping a lot because your body is trying to heal. That's why I'm here. To oversee your care, and bring you back to health." Gunilda said.

"Yes." Celestria nodded, as she sipped again of the wine.

"Now, I do have a question for you. When I went to the brothel on Thursday, looking for you, your Madam told me she hadn't seen you in four days. Your injury and the fire in the manor you were at didn't happen until Sunday. Where… were you during that week in question?" Gunilda asked, with a curious quirk of her brow.

"I was… at a local church. Father Tuttle brought me into his home after I was found by the church caretaker and groundskeeper, Fladius." Celestria said.

"So, you just showed up there… all on your own. At a… church — of all places?" Gunilda pried with a suspicious quirk of her brow.

"I got… lost." Celestria lied.

"Who else was there?"

"A Nun named Isemay. She cared for me."

"Because you were lost? Why didn't they just point you in the direction of the brothel, then?"

"Because… I was ill, Lady Gunilda."

"You were ill? Or, looking for sanctuary?" Gunilda asked, pointedly.

"I was ill. I don't remember how I ended up at the church, or being brought inside of it. I don't remember how I made it to Father Tuttle's home, which is close to the church. Fladius told me he brought me inside the church, and he and Father Tuttle carried me to the Priest's manor." Celestria explained.

"Fascinating. What was that like — being immersed in the lives of those… pious people?" Gunilda scoffed.

"They were kind to me, Lady Gunilda."

"I see. I imagine they might be wondering what happened to you, too." Gunilda said as she seated herself again on the chair. She picked up the cup and took a generous mouthful of wine.

"I suppose. I never thought about it." Celestria said. She took a sip of wine before continuing. "Do we have some time before the stew is ready?"

"Yes, my dear."

"Oh, good. Do I have time to try on the other gown you bought for me?"

"Of course." Gunilda smiled.

Celestria set the goblet down and arose from her seat.

"Very well. I'm going to change out of this one and see how the other one fits. I will show it to you."

"Good. I'm interested to see how it looks on you." Gunilda smiled.

After Celestria returned to her room, Lady Gunilda gazed into the fire as she sipped of her wine. She knew Celestria was lying about some things. She also knew when Celestria came to her in Derbyshire looking for help to deceive the Sheriff that the girl was playing a dangerous game. It was well known the Sheriff was betrothed and set to be wed in a sennight's time. Why would the Sheriff's lady shoot an arrow at Celestria, unless provoked? Celestria said she was wielding a dagger, but… what else was going on that she hadn't divulged?

Gunilda didn't like that Celestria was trying to involve her in a scheme involving the Sheriff, one that Gunilda wasn't fully aware of. She found the Sheriff to be a fascinating, commanding sort. And Gunilda was growing a fondness for this cottage her uncle had left to her. It had grown boring in Castleton. The same uninspiring people about, day after day. Lady Gunilda was starting to feel at home in Nottingham. She was interested to speak more with the enigmatic Sheriff; and she was definitely interested in the dark haired Knight who worked for him. She wondered how she could smooth things over regarding her encounter with the witch in the Sheriff's employ, and her hand in assisting Celestria with her ridiculous lie, however.

At Nottingham Castle, in the Sheriff's private chambers, Thomas Crumwell had just finished the wound inspection, and changing out the leeches on the Sheriff's abdomen.

"There. That should do it. I shall take them off and put new ones back in a few hours time." Thomas said.

"Explain to me again why these sodding leeches are needed." the Sheriff said, firmly.

"They are used as a more controlled form of bloodletting, Milord. The wound was full of contagion. Purulence. Bloodletting was needed, but I didn't think it safe to use the more traditional method, as you had lost a great deal of blood." Thomas explained.

"How long must I endure this absolute codswallop?" he huffed.

"At least another full day, Milord."

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

"It has helped you, George. It's probably part of the reason you are fully awake right now." Rhiannon pointed out.

"I would concur with that." Thomas said.

"You're sure?" he asked.

"Yes, Milord. Just one more day."

"Fine. Whatever. There's no danger they're going to… move from the spot you've placed them, is there? Like, up towards my face? Or… down?" he asked, with a shudder.

"No, Milord. They are stuck to you like honey. They won't move." Thomas said, assuredly.

"Very well, but if those insects move just a hair's width, they're coming off."

"As you wish, Milord, but they will not. Now, you must take another measure of the wine infused with cloves. It's helping you heal, as well."

"Right. And how long is this… healing going to take? I have a daughter to bury, a lady to make my bride, and a County to run — in case you'd forgotten." the Sheriff asked pointedly, as Rhiannon handed him the flask.

"I wouldn't be planning to return to your full duties on the morrow, if that's what you mean." Thomas said as he closed his bag.

Nottingham swallowed a good measure of the wine and cloves mixture, then set the flask on the table beside him.

"This is absurd. I'm obviously fit now." Nottingham argued.

"Milord, with all due respect, you haven't moved from the chair the entire time I've been here. You may feel well enough now, but it was only hours ago you couldn't be properly roused from a deep sleep. Your body is weakened from purulence, and blood loss." Thomas sighed as he pondered a moment, while rubbing his chin. He narrowed his blue eyes, then looked to the Sheriff. "You could possibly oversee things and confer in meetings, but you probably won't be fit for much else for a few days. However, at this juncture, I cannot even predict how you will be feeling on the morrow."

"We shall see." Nottingham said.

"Indeed, Milord. I shall return to my chambers. I will return in a few hours time to change out the leeches. In two hours time, I strongly suggest another measure of the special wine." Thomas said.

"Very well." he nodded.

After Thomas left, the Sheriff put his elbow on the armrest of the chair, leaned his head on his hand and sighed.

"Bear with me, my angel. For you may be witness to me finally losing my mind." the Sheriff said, gruffly.

"Now, I know you're feeling a bit better. You're testy." Rhiannon smirked.

"I cannot be expected to lounge about while… all manner of disorder is… happening." Nottingham stopped himself from being verbose when he realized whom he was speaking to. He sharply exhaled as he looked away from her.

She didn't know what was going on in the Village, with the formation of a resistance, right down to the rotten Rothwell clan who were threatening Luke. The Sheriff decided he must keep himself in check. He was divulging too much. In his opinion, loose lips landed people in trouble. He trusted her, but he needed to be more careful.

"What do you mean by… all manner of disorder? What disorder, George?" Rhiannon pressed him. Her eyebrow raised, suspiciously.

"Forgive me. I misspoke." he said as he looked downcast.

"Right. Hardly! What disorder?" she repeated, more firmly this time.

"Just some Village business on my mind. You see? Even when I'm in a state like this, my mind never stops."

"Of course. I never doubted that." Rhiannon smiled.

He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward him.

"Thank you, my lady. For everything, but most of all, for truly caring for me. From your heart." Nottingham said as he gazed into her eyes.

"Of course, my love. I'm just glad you're awake and speaking with me." she smiled.

Then, she bent down and kissed him softly.

"You mustn't think too much about what's ahead. Just take it as it comes. You'll know what to do. Let your body guide how you perform your duties. You have people to help you, George." Rhiannon advised, softly.

"I shall try, my lady. You know how impatient I can be, however." the Sheriff sighed.

"Indeed."

"Now, I need to speak to Luke, my angel. Would you — "

"Stay right there. I'll go and summon him." Rhiannon said.

Luke turned to face her when the door opened.

"He's asking to see you, Luke." Rhiannon said.

"Very well." Luke nodded.

He stopped a guard who was passing by, and asked him to cover for him for a few moments. The guard agreed, then Luke stepped inside the chambers.

"He's seated in the bedchamber. He hasn't been walking yet, so you'll need to go to him. I'll be out here, reading." Rhiannon said.

Luke nodded and walked toward the double doors. He lightly knocked, waited for the Sheriff to grant permission to enter, then opened the doors.

"Good even, my Lord Sheriff." Luke nodded and walked inside. He closed the doors then turned to face him.

"Good evening, Luke. Do come in."

"You're looking almost hale, Milord." Luke smiled as he advanced closer to him.

"Some of that is owed in part to you, I'm told." the Sheriff nodded.

"In fairness, I'd say it's all you, Milord. Not many could have survived from… the state you were in last night, but you did. I'm grateful."

"It is I whom is grateful, lad. Why would you be?"

"I'm grateful to see you looking better than last I saw you. That you're alive, and recovering." Luke explained.

"I appreciate that. Now, I need to talk about one thing." the Sheriff hinted.

"What is that, Milord?"

"The soup. Jean Louis personally delivered it to me. Imagine my surprise when he told me it was your recipe which you passed to him this morning?" Nottingham grinned.

"I… uh… did tell you I could cook from the outset." Luke reminded him.

"You did. But, there's ordinary throwing things together because you're hungry cooking, and then — there's actual cooking. Anyway, I thank you, Luke. It was very pleasing, and I do hope my chef made a large quantity of it."

"Don't hope for that, Milord. Food safety is rather important. It… won't keep for too long. The last thing we need is you getting ill again anytime soon. Never… would be preferable."

"Luke, you don't realize it, but there is a reason you're one of the top Investigators. Take these last couple of days, for instance. You were following your instincts, even at risk of going against me, because you had a hunch. That's gut instinct, and you trusted it." Nottingham said.

"I… uh… suppose." Luke shrugged, modestly.

"Your instincts were correct. You followed them through without involving anyone on the periphery. You did all the right things, and you performed them discreetly for my benefit. I'm thankful to you, and pleased to have you at my side as one of my top men." Nottingham said.

"Thank you, my Lord. I'm honoured to hear you say that." Luke smiled.

"Who taught you how to cook like that?"

"My mother, mostly. I often helped her with it. Especially, in her later… years." Luke said, softly. He looked downcast.

"You've never spoken of your family."

"There's not much to say, Milord. They're all deceased now." Luke said, evasively.

"Well, perhaps one of these days you might tell me more of your background." Nottingham said.

"Yes, Milord. For now is not the time. You need your rest."

"I've had a lot of that, Luke." the Sheriff sighed.

"Yes, and you were bleeding out less than twelve hours ago, Milord. It's a miracle you're awake now after that." Luke pointed out.

"Yes, so I'm told."

"Don't concern yourself with your duties just now. Sir Gisborne has been managing, and he has Robert and the Captain to advise him, and now, you."

"It's good of you to remind me, Luke. I shall try to be less concerned, but I won't promise."

"Understood, Milord." Luke nodded.

"One more thing." Nottingham said.

"Yes, Milord. What is that?"

"Since you're one of my top men, you are invited to the wedding feast. You will, of course, be on duty, as well. You are permitted no more than two goblets of spirits, but you will be on guard." a beat. "Zeus only knows what manner of miscreant may try to slip past the guards at the portcullis." Nottingham huffed.

"Very well. Thank you, Milord. May I bring someone… to dance with once, or twice?"

"Hmm. Let me guess." the Sheriff sighed as he folded his arms. "Floria?"

"Yes, Milord. If it would meet with your approval." Luke nodded.

"Part of your task that night will include being observant of any suspicious behaviours of anyone present, whether they're guests, or part of the entertainment — from minstrels, to dancers, to any manner of performer. How can you be observant and responsive to whatever arises if you're… cozied up to her most of the evening?" Nottingham asked with a knowing quirk of his brow.

"You're right, Milord. I didn't consider all of that." Luke said. He tried to conceal the frown that threatened to form.

"Don't lose yourself to her, lad. Your work is important. You just don't fully realize it yet, since… ego is no issue with you."

"I see."

"You don't right now, but you shall see it, eventually." the Sheriff said.

"Very well, Milord. I shall honour your wishes and fulfil my duties that night." Luke nodded.

"Very good." he smiled.

After Luke left, Lady Rhiannon went back into the bedchamber. It was getting late, but she was fearful of her betrothed falling back to sleep. She knew he needed it, but what would happen then? Even Thomas warned he couldn't predict what the morrow would bring.

"Am I to be expected to recline on the bed with… those things attached to my belly?" Nottingham asked.

"It's already happened, my sweet. Thomas is right. They don't move. They just… latch on and stay there." Rhiannon said, suppressing a shudder.

"And… you were alright with that?"

"Yes. Once I saw for myself. They seem to have a positive effect on you. That's all I care about."

"Very well." he nodded, then slowly arose from the chair.

"Are you alright, George?"

"I'm fine." he said, dismissively.

He made his way over to the bed. He removed his robe, tossed it over the foot of the bed, then took his position there, reclined against the pillows.

Rhiannon removed her gown, then put her dressing gown on over her shift, draping the right side of it over her shoulder. She walked toward him then climbed up on the bed beside him.

"You haven't told me… how are you feeling, my lady? You're still recovering, too." the Sheriff asked.

"My ribs are a little sore, but I'm fine. My arm is better, but I'll be glad to burn this cursed sling. Everything else is proceeding normally." she smiled.

"Well, not very normally." he said, softly.

"I suppose not, but it seems to be our normal at the moment."

He put his arm around her and she nuzzled against him.

"George?"

"What is it, my lady?"

"When this happened last night, what alerted me to you was that you were restless, and appeared to be dreaming. You were calling for someone named… Sela." Rhiannon began.

"I was?"

"I asked you about it, but I don't know if you were making sense, or not. You said Sela is… our daughter. Is… that true? Did you see her somehow? In your dreams?" Rhiannon asked.

"Really?" the Sheriff asked, surprised by her report.

"Yes, my love."

"Hmm. Sela. Interesting name." Nottingham whispered, as he tried to make sense of her words.

"Thomas was brought in just as you told me whom Sela was. He heard that part, then told us that your father had a sister with the same name. She died months before he did, and your parents were close with her." Rhiannon added.

"I did… not know that." he said.

"Yes. You alluded to the same when he said that, but I wasn't sure how much you understood just then. I'm very interested to hear what… our Sela is like."

"So am I." the Sheriff said, shaking his head.

"You… don't remember?" Rhiannon asked.

"No, but… I wish I did." he frowned

The Sheriff pondered that, trying desperately to recall. If he was given a chance to see his daughter, it was a cruel joke he couldn't remember it. He closed his eyes, trying to recall. After awhile, once he relaxed, in his mind he saw autumn leaves swirling in a variety of colours. They were in the air, blowing in front of someone, and crimson leaves were landing at his feet. He focused on his breathing and let it slow down. Then, he could hear a child's voice coming through in a memory.

" … they tell me I'm more like you. What does it matter? Come, Father!"

The Sheriff's eyes flew open as he shook his head. He could hear the girl's voice in his mind. It came through as plain as day.

"What is it, my love?" Rhiannon asked.

"It is nothing, my angel." he said as he closed his eyes once more.

"They say I have my father's eyes."

Nottingham opened his eyes once more. Was this real? Was he remembering a dream? Or… a vision he might have had with his daughter? He could hear the voice, but couldn't recall seeing her. All he could remember was autumn leaves, and the sound of her voice… possibly, coming through. He wished to Zeus he could remember more.