“So you’re still alive, then,” a deep, gruff voice beside him said. As Gisburne couldn’t believe it was the man he thought it was, he turned his head.
“Why are you here?” Gisburne asked in a faint, hoarse voice he had trouble recognizing as his own.
“My son asked me to stay and look after Marion, but why she chose to stay…” He trailed off as the servant, Cecily, entered the chamber, carrying a bowl of what smelled like broth. Gisburne hadn’t known he was hungry until the scent of food had wafted towards him.
The Earl immediately vacated his chair but, to Gisburne’s chagrin, he didn’t leave the room.
“By the look of you, I’d say old Edmond had returned,” Cecily said, casting a critical eye over Gisburne’s bruised face. Gisburne glared at her but said nothing. Cecily had always been blunt. That was probably how she had survived Edmond’s wrath in the first place and all those years in the Gisburne household. She had outlived her lord and his lady. She had almost outlived their so-called son.
“Ah, cheer up, my lord. You’ll be well soon enough, I reckon,” she said with the rough kind of gentleness he could remember as a child. “Now I’m going to give you some of this broth. You should try to eat as much as you can. It will help you get your strength back.”
She was about to raise his head with one hand and hold the bowl with the other, when Huntington stepped forward.
“Let me help,” he spoke and, before Gisburne understood what was happening, the Earl was sitting on the edge of the bed and lifting the knight into a sitting position.
“Let go of me! I can do it,” Gisburne protested, trying to free himself from the Earl’s grasp.
“You can barely lift your head off the pillow,” the Earl argued, sounding amused. “Does your wound hurt?”
“No…no more than it did before.”
“Then sit still or I’ll force that broth into you myself!”
“That’s quieted him,” Cecily commented with an uncharacteristic grin. “He always was a bit stubborn, this one.”
“Yes, I can see that,” the Earl said. “Well, take the bowl, boy, before it grows cold.” The knight lifted his hands and Cecily passed the bowl to him. He felt her cool bony fingers circle his hands as she guided the broth to his lips.
It was hot but not scalding. A pleasant warmth spread through him, and his hunger was sated. However, the meal hadn’t provided him with more energy: it had made him drowsy. He could feel himself sinking then realized that Huntington was lowering him back against the pillow.
“Why fight it? If you’re tired you should sleep,” the Earl said. Gisburne was tempted to sit up and prove that he wasn’t tired, that he wasn’t weak, except that he did feel tired and knew that if he tried to sit up, he’d probably just fall back down again. However, the idea of sleeping while an enemy stood over him was hardly an appealing choice either.
In the end sleep prevailed and claimed Gisburne entirely.
He woke up when he felt something cold and wet pressing against his cheek. His eyes flew open just as his nostrils were assaulted by a distinctive canine scent.
“Roland?” he croaked. He turned his head slightly and found a muzzle in his face and a large paw on his shoulder. He managed to push the hound away, though Roland still kept his front paws firmly planted on the mattress. Then Marion was standing next to him as well.
“He insisted on visiting you,” she said, trying not to smile. Gisburne said nothing, only struggled to sit up as she poured him a cup of water.
“I told you you’d tear out the stitches if you weren’t careful,” Marion scolded. She lifted his head and placed the cup in his hand. He only took a sip before handing it back to her again.
“You really enjoy seeing me like this, don’t you?” Gisburne snapped. Marion set the cup back on the table calmly.
“No, not really,” she answered.
“Why?” Marion sighed, scratching Roland’s ears absently.
“I don’t like to see people suffer, even people like you.” Her eyes fell on the dog and she scratched his ears some more. Gisburne’s eyes drifted to Roland as well.
“Is Daniel dead?”
“What?” Marion lifted her head in surprise. “Why would you think that?”
“He hasn’t been here, and – and Roland would never leave his side unless…”
“Daniel isn’t dead and he has been to see you. You…you were just never awake.”
“Oh.” Gisburne looked away then closed his eyes, as if he was trying to will Marion away.
“He feels guilty about what happened to you,” Marion said, ignoring her enemy’s silent request. “He feels responsible.” Gisburne opened his eyes.
“Why on earth would he think that he’s to blame? He couldn’t have done anything except, perhaps, get himself killed. The man’s a fool.”
“If I brought him here,” Marion spoke, after a moment’s consideration, “would you tell him that?” Gisburne’s forehead creased.
“What? That he’s a fool?”
“No, that it wasn’t his fault.”
“Oh. Well, yes, I – I suppose so.”
“Good. It’s something he needs to hear.”
“And this concerns you because…?”
“I like Daniel. He seems like a good man.”
“He is, though I’m surprised to hear you say that.” Marion almost smirked.
“Because I’m a wolfshead,” she said.
“No, because he’s my servant.”
“Ah. Well…” She started scratching Roland’s ears again. Gisburne was silent for so long that Marion thought he had fallen asleep. She was about to leave the room when he spoke again.
“What does that wolfshead plan to do with me?”
“Do with you? What do you mean?” Gisburne sighed loudly.
“Does he think I have information? Is that why I’m still alive? And where is he? Doesn’t he wish to gloat?”
“My son is with people who actually deserve his help, having chosen, wisely, not to waste it on you,” the Earl of Huntington stated as he entered the room.
“And yet you’re here,” Gisburne said.
“To look after Marion, that’s all.”
“In case I should choose to do what? Spit on her?” the knight demanded with a helpless wave of his arm.
“The venom of some snakes is said to be deadly.”
“Then leave or do whatever it is your son sent you to do.”
“I was just asked to look after Marion.”
“Then do it! Take her and go! Just – ” Gisburne started to cough, and Marion pushed the cup of water into his hand. Gisburne threw it as hard as he could.
“I don’t want it!” he shouted. Then he began coughing again. Marion retrieved the cup from the ground and poured some more water. This time the knight didn’t protest when she pressed the cup into his hand, but gulped the water down.
“I think we’d better leave,” the Earl said.
“Get some rest,” Marion told the knight as he sagged wearily against his pillows. Gisburne said nothing, simply stared at the wall. Marion walked briskly from the room.
“He’s in no condition to fight with you,” she said, once she and the Earl were outside Gisburne’s chamber.
“I didn’t provoke him. He was already arguing with you when I came.”
“He’s angry, confused and frustrated by his helplessness.”
“That doesn’t give him the right to treat you that way.”
“He only wanted the truth…I couldn’t give it to him.” The Earl laughed sharply, and Marion stared at him in surprise.
“You’re starting to sound like Robert,” he explained.
“If I am I’m glad.”
“Yes, I suppose you would be.”
“Does that concern you?”
“No…but I’ll freely admit that Gisburne isn’t the only one who’s confused.” Marion met the hard gaze without flinching.
“I know,” she said.
“If I asked you to tell me what this secret is, I don’t suppose you would, would you?”
“I’m sorry.” The Earl shook his head.
“No, don’t be. I suppose I should be grateful that Robert trusted me enough to look after you.”
“It’s not a matter of trust. It’s – it’s just that – ” Huntington raised his hand.
“It’s all right, Marion. You don’t need to explain. Perhaps you would be good enough to inform me when there is something useful I can do.” The Earl started to head down the corridor.
“My lord.” The Earl stopped and turned.
“There is something you can do,” Marion said.
Daniel had just finished brushing down the last horse and was about to lead it to its stall, when he heard footsteps in the stable.
“Who’s there?” he asked immediately.
“David of Huntington.”
“Oh. Is there something I can do for you, my lord?”
“Gisburne wishes to see you. I told Marion I would fetch you.”
“I see.” Daniel disappeared inside the stall. “Thank you for telling me, my lord. You shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble. You should have asked one of the – ”
“No, it’s all right. I needed some fresh air and exercise. The manor can be…er…”
“Yes, it can be, my lord,” Daniel said, smiling briefly.
“Daniel, how long have you been here?” Daniel tilted his head to one side and considered the question for a moment.
“I reckon I’ve been here nigh on twenty years, my lord.”
“Twenty years?” the Earl asked in disbelief. “Why would you stay so long? Why in heaven’s name would you stay at all?” Daniel stared straight at Huntington with his sightless eyes.
“Someone had to protect the boy.”
“The boy? You mean Gisburne?” Daniel nodded, his eyes still fixed on the Earl’s face.
“I couldn’t do much but it was better than nothing, I suppose.”
“But what did you protect him from?” the Earl asked, although he already had an idea of what the answer would be.
“Sir Edmond,” Daniel said quietly, though he had also assumed that the Earl knew the answer.
“He beat Guy?”
“He damn near killed him a few times.”
“What? Why?” Daniel’s eyes lingered on Huntington’s face for a moment longer before he finally tore them away. Now they didn’t seem to know where to go, and Daniel looked as if he was considering his best plan for escape.
“A father would never try to kill his son,” the Earl said, trying to draw Daniel out. The eyes flicked briefly in his direction.
“I’m sure you’re right, my lord,” Daniel stated, almost placatingly. Then he walked past Huntington, towards the door.
“Where are you going?”
“You said Sir Guy wanted to see me, so I’m going to go see him.”
Although Daniel knew the manor better than anyone, he still found it reassuring to hear Roland’s enthusiastic barks as he walked through the open door of his lord’s chamber. Then he felt the hound’s cold, wet tongue on his fingers.
“I’m surprised he was willing to part from you,” came a wry voice from the bed. Daniel moved slowly towards it.
“He’s your dog, my lord. His place should be at your side.”
“Ah. Well, you’ve hardly set him a good example in that regard, have you?”
“My lord?”
“When you didn’t come, I thought you were dead. I thought they had killed you too.”
“They should have after what I allowed to happen.”
“What you allowed to happen?”
“I should have known that they were here, tried to protect you.”
“I’m a soldier. I should have been able to protect myself.”
“When I found you, I didn’t know you’d been wounded, Master Guy. I thought that you were…Well, that…”
“That I was drunk?” Daniel hesitated and, although he couldn’t see Gisburne’s eyes, he found he couldn’t make the effort to meet them.
“Yes, my lord.”
“I see. That’s why you haven’t come to see me, at least when I was awake.” Daniel swallowed uncomfortably, wishing he could detect what emotion lay in Gisburne’s voice.
“Forgive me, my lord. I was – was…” Daniel shook his head in frustration. “I couldn’t face you, Master Guy. I was…ashamed. I’ve…I’ve always been ashamed.”
“Always? Why?” Gisburne demanded sharply. “Why?” he repeated when Daniel didn’t respond.
“I failed you when I let those men hurt you. I failed you when I couldn’t protect you from Edmond. I failed you when I saved his life in the Holy Land.” Daniel bit back a laugh that could have been a sob. “I failed you before you were even born!” He started to back away, almost bumping into Roland Then he felt Gisburne’s hand circle his wrist.
“No, you didn’t fail me: she did.”
“Your mother was a good, kind lady.”
“My mother was a whore. She’s the one who failed me. She destroyed me.” Daniel’s other hand rested on the one Gisburne had wrapped around his wrist.
“If you truly believe that, Master Guy, then you must hold at least one other person responsible,” Daniel spoke softly.
“Who? Edmond?”
“No, your father.” The chamber went completely silent for an instant. Only the sound of Roland’s pants could be heard.
“I can’t,” Gisburne said at last, pulling his hand away from Daniel. “I don’t know who he is.”
“And if you did?”
“I’d kill him.” There was another pause of silence.
“Would you, Master Guy?”
“I don’t know.” Daniel nodded slowly.
“You look tired. You should rest.”
“Will you come back?”
“Yes. Yes, of course I will,” Daniel said with a smile. Gisburne smiled himself, though Daniel couldn’t see it. Daniel turned and had almost reached the door, when a question he had never had the courage to ask crossed his lips.
“Do you ever wonder...ever think about…?”
“I used to wish it was you.” Daniel’s sightless eyes widened. “You were…good to me,” Gisburne explained quietly. “You were the only one who seemed to…to care what happened to me. But I knew you weren’t my father, that you couldn’t be my father.”
“Because I was in the Holy Land with Sir Edmond when – ”
“Because you could never have been that cruel,” Gisburne said. Then he closed his eyes. Daniel stared at him for a moment. Then he walked slowly from the room, ignoring the man who had slumped, shaking, against a wall in the corridor.
* * * *
Will shifted again, trying to relieve the sore muscles in his back. While the branch he had chosen provided him with a good view of the road, it was not a comfortable place to sit. Just his luck: he would have to choose to lean against a trunk riddled with hard knobs and lumps. He tried not to curse aloud and focused on the thought that Nasir would arrive in about an hour to take over the watch. Will scratched his head and sighed. It would be a long hour.
He needed some action. The past week had also been long: long, quiet and utterly boring. While the various villages had seemed pleased to see them, they had had no need for the outlaws’ assistance – if you didn’t count the angry sow John had chased halfway across Elsdon. Even the road through Sherwood had provided them with few distractions. They had only found one traveller who had been worth robbing, a merchant who had been wise enough to leave most of his purse at home.
Will swatted at a fly that was circling his head, gazing down at the road almost as an afterthought. Two riders were approaching. He almost fell off the branch in surprise.
“It’s about time!” he whispered to himself.
He cupped his hands over his mouth and was about to signal to the others, when he changed his mind. There were only two riders. He could handle them himself.
The outlaw climbed soundlessly from the tree and crept to the edge of the road. He crouched down in the grass and waited for the two travellers to come closer. When they were only a few feet away, Will leapt onto the road, drawing his sword from its scabbard.
The one traveller, a woman, screamed loudly. The other rider, a young man with fair hair, didn’t flinch, only smiled at the outlaw calmly.
“Hello, Will.”
“Robin! What the hell are you doing ’ere?”
“It’s nice to see that you missed me.”
“I thought you were…”
“I was,” Robin answered, his smile fading. “Will, this is Matilda and her son.” Will turned his attention back to the other rider and noticed for the first time that there was a little boy seated on the horse in front of her.
“Where’s Marion?” Scarlet demanded.
“She’s still at the manor with my father.”
“Why?” Robin’s eyes shifted slightly from Will’s steady gaze.
“I’ll explain later,” he said quietly.
“And what about these two?” Will asked, motioning to Matilda and her son. “Will you explain why they’re ’ere, or is that something else you’ll explain later?”
“They’re here because they need our help.”
“Are they related to Gisburne too? Because if they are – ”
“What, Will? What would you do?” Robin snapped. Scarlet stared at his leader, taken aback by the anger in his voice.
“Margaret and I were not related by blood, but she came to feel like a sister to me,” Matilda stated softly. “And considering what happened to her brother – ”
“Something happened to Gisburne?” Will asked, turning eagerly to Robin. “Is that why Marion’s still back there?” Robin said nothing, lifting the boy from the horse.
“We shouldn’t stay out in the open like this,” Robin said. “You’ll both be safer at the camp.”
“Was Gisburne captured? Wounded?” Will demanded. Robin took Matilda’s hand and helped her down from the horse next. The lady laid her hand on Robin’s shoulder for an instant.
“I’m truly grateful for everything that you’ve done for us. I wish there was some way that I could thank you, but –”
“See that your son reaches manhood, my lady: that is the only boon I require.” The lady smiled and patted his cheek.
“You’re a good man, Robin Hood. I would be honoured to see your camp and – ” She cast a quick glance at Will. “And meet your other men.” Robin extended his arm to the lady and took her son by the hand.
“See to the horses please, Will,” Robin called over his shoulder, as his friend watched him lead their two guests away.
“What happened to Gisburne?” Will shouted.
“Gisburne’s what?” John exclaimed. Robin nudged the sticks of the campfire with his boot, trying to ignore Will’s grin and the look of concern that was plainly evident in Tuck’s eyes.
“Gisburne was wounded,” Robin repeated. “He may even be dead by now. I’m not sure. He didn’t look good when we left.”
“And these were the same men who killed Margaret?” Tuck said. Robin nodded.
“And you left Marion there after what they did to Gisburne?” Will demanded, his grin disappearing.
“My father is at the manor with her and, if anything, she’s probably safer there. Those men couldn’t get information out of Gisburne and they must know by now that the boy has escaped them again,” Robin said, gazing at their young guest, who was sleeping curled up against his mother. Matilda, however, was wide awake.
“Robin, are you certain that it’s safe here? I’m – I’m not questioning your wisdom or your judgment, but I feel so…so exposed here. The forest – this camp – it doesn’t appear to offer much in the way of – of protection.”
“I realize that it doesn’t seem like much, my lady. It doesn’t have a castle’s defences, but it does have something a castle doesn’t have: the element of surprise.”
“I – I don’t understand.”
“We know the forest better than they do and that gives us the advantage. We’ve learned how to move among the trees without being seen or heard. There are hundreds of places to hide here and hundreds of places to spring traps, launch attacks – ”
“I don’t care about that. I only want my son to be safe.”
“My lady, these men have proven that they’ll use any means to get to your son. We have to be ready for them, which means that we have to start thinking the way they do.”
“But if we start thinking the way they do, do we not risk behaving the way they do, of committing some act of evil?”
“I don’t believe this!” Will cried. “She wants us to protect ’er son, but she doesn’t want us to do nothing to protect ourselves!”
“She’s just asking herself some of the same questions we’ve asked ourselves a dozen times, Will,” Tuck said, smiling gently at Matilda. She returned the smile gratefully.
“Evil to him who thinks evil,” Much stated, remembering the words his foster brother had once spoken.
“Aye, that’s right, Much. Wouldn’t you agree, Robin?” Tuck asked. The young man had removed Albion from its scabbard, studying it, seemingly lost in thought.
“Robin?” John prompted, touching his shoulder.
“When they come we’ll be ready for them,” Robin said.
