Sir Guy of Gisborne

If the dark shape of the man passed out at the foot of a tree not too far from the lake looks like he stinks, it is probably because he does. Too much wine, beer and mead; all mingled up with stale sweat, anger and heartbreak.

The wine helps him sleep. The beer pushes him over into being so wasted he doesn't care anymore. The mead, mostly, is for a change from the monotony.

The rest is thanks to the nightmares of a foreign land, a woman who wouldn't love him and that moment, just after waking, when you remember everything.

His skin is cold and clammy to the touch.

It did not bode well, the faint sound of splashing emanating from the Sheriff's chambers.

Not well at all.

It foretold a horror to go with his failure to prevent the thieving scum of the forest from stealing yet another shipment of tax money.

Still. He would have to face it.

"DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT GISBORNE."

Or at least, keep his back to his employer or face to the side. The prospect of Vasey's nudity made sure that Guy's eyes were firmly averted.

"My lord, we now know the strongroom works. Stopped Hood dead in his tracks."

"NOT DEAD ENOUGH." Funny how even naked, the Sheriff could still rage at him from his position seated in the tub. "Stealing the money on the way here is one thing. Stealing it from under my nose is another. The Black Knights are coming, expecting their share out, Gisborne. At this rate THERE'LL BE NOTHING LEFT TO SHARE!"

Too late, Guy failed to foresee that the Sheriff would punctuate that exclamation by standing and looked away in disgust.

"Gisborne, I want him dead." Vasey paused briefly. "Meanwhile, how's your German?"

"German?" Was the Sheriff bringing in mercenaries? Surely he had not failed on that great a scale that mercenaries were being brought in?

Guy turned back to the Sheriff, warily, and then remembered. "Ahh, this guest you're expecting."

"Count Friedrich of Bavaria. He's one of the richest aristocrats in Europe by all accounts and stupid too, so you and he should get on. He also has a weakness for gambling."

It was making sense now.

"Your alterations to the Great Hall." Vasey was planning to make use of this Count's wealth.

"Yes. We will extend the Count every courtesy Gisborne. I've taken my bath six months early for a reason and then... we will take the inbred booby for all that he's got."



Guy could not let the preparations for Count Friedrich's arrival keep him from one task in particular though.

Hood knew of the strongroom.

Someone must have told him.

Only a few knew of its existence - the Sheriff and himself, of course. There were a few guards - who were at least bright enough to know that they could not betray their employer and get away with it...

...and there were the apprentices and workmen who had built it. Skilled men, undoubtedly...but they were peasants. Peasants who were easy to lead astray if their precious outlaw promised them their King would return to set things right.

And at least one of them was mouthy and greedy enough to try it on, when his men had rounded them up.

One of them must have let slip. His men would take care of them and if it was not them? Well, they would be an example.


The Great Hall looked impressive. It had been completely transformed into a gaming room and Guy barely heard the Sheriff's grand rousing speech for the servants as he looked around at it.

"Ah, Lady Marian."

Now that was one word guaranteed to catch Guy's attention and instinctively, he turned to see where she was.

She did not look happy, he noted, while at the same time carefully not noting how the pale green suited her complexion.

The Sheriff's suggestion that she show their guest a 'good time' had her looking at him briefly, wide-eyed in alarm. As if she expected him to object on her behalf.

She had no right to that now.

"Good idea." Was she surprised that he agreed? Guy decided that he did not care if she was.

He took the opportunity to study her, while the Sheriff enquired after her father. This was what he had hoped to marry. She was beautiful, yes, and spirited. She was intelligent enough.


She was a liar who had promised to fulfil a marriage vow to him only to leave him in the church.

"But what if he sees my heart isn't in it?" A poor excuse.

"Well then, pretend. Deception comes easily enough to you."

So did the outrage, which brought a flush across her skin at the Sheriff's suggestion that she buy a more risqué gown.

Guy easily caught the single coin the Sheriff deemed enough for Marian's new gown and flung it a short way down the nearest gaming table.

"Fetch."

It felt good to be cruel to her like this. It felt like he was in control again.

Leaving the dungeon, Guy headed out to where the Sheriff and his guards were assembling in the courtyard. The plan had been put into action and the trap, it seemed, was about to be sprung.

And there, summoned for the spectacle perhaps, was Marian.


Taking as little notice of her as he could manage, Guy strode forward to join the Sheriff.

"Now that Sir Guy has found the time to join us..." The Sheriff of Nottingham gestured towards the gate. "Shall we?"

They followed the children and their guard out into the marketplace.

"People," Vasey began. "My dear people."

At that Guy couldn't help raising an eyebrow as he watched the crowd for any troublemakers. Dear? That was taking it a bit far,

"These two young scallywags here, think that because they are children, they can escape justice." The Sheriff tutted, wagging a finger sternly.

Guy's eyes wandered to check that the soldiers and castle guard were properly in place. The Sheriff...Guy assumed the Sheriff was carrying on with his speech. He had ceased to listen when the familiar patronising drone that Lord Vasey so often used with the peasants set in.

"...they must lose a hand." The Sheriff mimed some gesture of a missing hand and the murmurs of alarm in the crowds caught Guy's ear as he studied them warily again.

The woman tied to the stake, however, was more than alarmed. She was positively horrified.

"Come along," Vasey was nothing if not impatient. "Chop chop."

And he had a knack for the most inappropriate puns. At least this time it was not directed towards Guy.

"...blah di blah di blaah chop off their hands!"

"Somebody save my children!" shrieked the woman, as the Sheriff looked about him in glee.

...and there, right on cue, was Locksley on a nearby rooftop. Guy reached toward his sword, waiting to see how Hood would react.

"Touch those children and there's an arrow here for you Sheriff!" Robin was nothing if not predictable.

Scrambling from his rooftop and fighting his way through the guards scattered about the market, Hood headed towards the shackled children.

Predictable.

"NOW!" Guy shouted to the dozens of extra soldiers in disguise, who promptly surrounded the outlaw. Things were starting to look up.

"Clever. Very very clever."

"Put down your weapon Hood."

At least Locksley knew when he was beaten.

"So, tell me." Robin looked to address the woman he knew as 'Rose'. "Are these even your children?"

"Children? Bruurgh." 'Rose' gave an exaggerated shiver, showing exactly what she thought of children, and strode towards Hood. "Now, you show me your face."

She flipped back the outlaw's hood. "And I'll show you mine."

Guy had to admit that the Sheriff's sister was a very intelligent woman, as she removed her disguise to reveal her usual immaculately coiffured blonde hair to the gasps of the surrounding peasants.

"Did I tell you I had a sister, Hood?"

~*~


The meeting of the Black Knights started off in much the same way as any other time they had met.


This time, however, there was some entertainment to liven things up and there was something supremely satisfying about seeing Hood strung up above a pit of writhing snakes, even if he still managed to be irritating as hell.

Being slowly lowered into the pit, did make up for that somewhat. As did taking the opportunity to ask a few questions.

"Tell me, Hood," Guy sneered. "Who is the Nightwatchman?"

"I don't know Gisborne, but I do know I'll kiss him when I see him for stealing from you." He turned away from Hood, who though it wise to carry on speaking. "And for showing it's not just me. Y'see, there are people like me and the Nightwatchman all over England, who will stand up for justice."

Guy rammed the end of Locksley's bow into his stomach.

"Look at you. Handed life on a plate and you threw it away." Truth be told, in some ways, Hood disgusted him. "For what?"

Another hard blow with the bow.

"So you could be king of the paupers?"

Thump.

"Did you think they'd love you?"

Thwack.

"Did you think they'd kneel at your name?"

Blow after blow, Guy channelled his anger and frustration into hurting the outlaw.

"Trust me, you're not dead yet and they've forgotten you already."

He stopped for a moment to catch his breath, but there was the sound of a fight outside the doors of the meeting chamber and then a knocking. Guy moved over to the doors and peered through the crack between them.

"The Nightwatchman."

"Whaat?" The Sheriff was incredulous.

Guy grabbed the key and unlocking the doors, burst out into the corridor. The guards were unconscious , but seeing no one about he edged warily towards where it seem the Nightwatchman had fled.

The Nightwatchman, who jumping down from somewhere behind him, knocked him off his feet somehow.

He sprang back up as the Nightwatchman dashed away and darted back into the meeting chamber.

"The Nightwatchman, get after him!"

Guy ran out into the bright sunlight of the courtyard, flanked by two guards, and caught sight of his nemesis running towards another passageway.

They turned the corner and... he was gone. He had vanished again. Guy moved forward, slowly, carefully and then his eyes drifted upwards.

It was enough to be tricked once, but not twice. The guards moved to stand opposite, to block the way once the Nightwatchman dropped from his perch.

"Remember this, Nightwatchman?" Guy held up his curved knife.

It was enough to provoke the masked man to drop from the beam, to be captured by the waiting guards.

"Take off your mask, I want to see your face when you die."

Quick as a flash, the knife was kicked from his hand, there was a boot in his stomach and then what felt like a fatted cow pushing down on his head. Guy recovered and rose to find the Nightwatchman leaping down to the courtyard.

"Giiiisborne!" It seemed the Sheriff had been overpowered. "Get him!"

"Don't worry," Guy unsheathed his sword. "He's mine."

There were other, more pressing, matters to attend to before Guy could descend into the castle's dungeon to deal with the young man imprisoned there.

The young man, who was part of Hood's merry band of outlaws.

There was no hurry though. The outlaw was in no real position to negotiate anything and Guy would be able to take the necessary time to get what he wanted.

"So tell me," he started, coming close to the bars of the cell. "Where are your friends?"

It wasn't the strong right hook that hit him hardest, it was the sight of her eagerly hurrying away from him down the aisle that winded him. A journey they might have made together, albeit a touch more sedately, had a few moments more passed. In a few months time, if he had had the courage to tell her the truth himself.

Now they would never have that. He had been a fool to think that he could have this one dream, that he deserved this happiness, that he could ever be worthy of such a woman.

And not just any such woman. Marian.

She would never be his Marian. Not now. He would never hold her close to him nor listen to the sound of her breath in the night. He would never see their children born nor grow old with her. He had been a fool to hope. A fool and an idiot.

As he got to his feet he was dimly aware of someone saying they could catch her for him.

He could still feel the impression of the ring on his cheek and dull, warm throb of what would likely turn into a bruise.

She could never be caught; her body perhaps, yes, but never her spirit. Not caught, never caught, never could or would be like one of the Sheriff's caged songbirds.

The ring lay discarded on the reed mat of the chapel floor. Carelessly strewn on the floor without a second thought. Some part of Guy's mind wondered whether her engagement ring had been similarly discarded; his mother's ring, given in trust and in hope.

"No. Let her go."