"As Constable to the King, it is my duty to decide both of your fates and to pronounce whatever sentence I see fit," said William Brewer to the two lords that sat side by side below him. Brewer himself was stretched out comfortably in the High Sheriff's chair, his heels lying slack on the table. He glared down at the two men as contemptuously as a god might gaze upon two fleas.
This was a trial to determine which lord had been responsible for the loss of the grain shipment collected from various villages of the shire. This grain was to have been added to the supplies sent to Newark, where King John was gathering an army to march against Llewellyn. Because both the High Sheriff, Robert de Rainault, and his steward, Sir Guy of Gisburne, had failed to safeguard this shipment, the charges levied against them were all the more serious...and deadly.
They quickly dismissed their plan to seek a pardon from King John when they both realized what truly lay at the bottom of their newly acquired cart, that it wasn't the body of Robin Hood but some kind of clay being instead. And, so, with this in mind, and too close to Nottingham to turn back, they had returned to the castle to await whatever fate had left in store for them. Now, a week later, they were facing a man who was about to determine not only their crimes but their very lives as well.
They both knew which man was guilty. Perhaps William Brewer knew as well, but in a court run by King John's Constable justice didn't matter. Power was the game here. The Sheriff had claimed that he would clear both their names, but every word that he and his brother had spoken that day had been against his steward. Gisburne soon discovered that this was another promise the Sheriff didn't intend to keep. The Sheriff was only interested in saving his own neck, not risking it to save somebody else's. Unfortunately for Gisburne, the extent Robert de Rainault had gone to save himself had not made the knight look good at all.
"From what I have heard so far," said Brewer, "you, Guy of Gisburne, have much to answer for. Both the Sheriff and his brother, Lord Abbot Hugo de Rainault, have given various testimonies against you. I have listened to the accounts of both these men carefully and I don't like what I've heard. Your incompetence has been...utterly astounding! It has cost soldiers' lives rather than those of any of the outlaws, which was supposed to be your responsibility in the first place! In fact, you have made barely any progress whatsoever in capturing this rogue, Robin Hood.
"Your ineptitude has been a shame for us all to bear. You have no right to any position within the law, or, for that matter, any position at all! I find it incredible that you have managed to live this long without surrendering your head to an executioner's block and astonishing that you have not been tried before this!" William Brewer paused, taking a long sip from his wine cup before continuing. "I'm surprised, de Rainault, that you have put up with him all these years. Why did you allow him to continue working in your service for so long when you knew the truth about his vices?"
"My lord," answered the Sheriff, in his best speaking voice, "it shames me to think that I could have been so mistaken about the true nature of my steward and so blind to his...his wickedness and apparent abuse of power. Yes, I was blinded. Blinded by the loyalty I felt I owed a man who had once served my good brother. Blinded by the belief that if I provided...Guy with the proper training and knowledge, he would eventually learn to be a competent steward and deputy. I always thought of him as my...protégé, hoping that one day he might take over the position of High Sheriff after my own untimely passing."
Gisburne stared at the Sheriff in amazement, unable to believe the complete fabrications that had just tumbled out of his mouth. "That's a lie," he stated at last, finding his voice.
"What did you say?" inquired Brewer, squinting haughtily down his nose at Gisburne. "Is there something you wish to add?"
"Yes, my lord," said the knight. The scribe stopped his frantic writing for a moment as Gisburne rose slowly from his seat and placed both hands flat upon the table in front of him. "They're lies! They're all lies!"
"All of them?"
"Well, yes. Most of them, anyway."
"So you admit that some of the Sheriff's accounts are true. This is not good, Gisburne."
"My lord, I am innocent," said Gisburne, with steady deliberation and something close to weariness in his voice. He had spoken those same words some seven or eight times throughout the trial already. It had gotten to the point where even he had some trouble believing it.
"Gisburne, I wish to hear nothing further from you. Sit down. My lords, I have reached a decision. I find Guy of Gisburne guilty of mismanaging the supervision of the grain shipment from the villages of this shire, as well as plotting possible treason against King John."
"That's not true!" exclaimed Gisburne, his blue eyes blazing as he jumped up again.
"Really, Gisburne, you should have more respect!" said the Sheriff.
The fire behind the knight's eyes suddenly died and they became cold and barren. Then Gisburne launched himself on the Sheriff, both hands circling de Rainault's neck. In the end, it took three guards to pull Gisburne away.
"This has gone too far, Gisburne!" hissed Brewer, who loathed such scenes of violence. "I have had enough of you! Tomorrow morning you will be sent to the castle courtyard where I shall personally supervise your execution. Guards, take this thing to the dungeon!"
Brewer's gavel crashed down on the table, its loud echo ringing in the powerless knight's ears as he was hauled away.
* * * *
"Have you heard the news?" asked John, entering the outlaws' camp. "The King's heading for Nottingham. He should be here by tomorrow."
"But I thought he was in Newark gathering an army to march against the Welsh," said Tuck, offering his friend a swig of ale, a gift from the rich and colourful merchant they had met that morning.
"I wouldn't have thought that anything would drag him back to Nottingham now."
"I reckon something bad has happened."
"Or something important enough to draw him away from Newark," said Tuck.
John grinned. "Oh, oh. The Sheriff and Gisburne must really be in trouble this time."
"Don't be daft," said Will, deciding to join in the conversation. "Those two are always getting into trouble and the King doesn't come running."
"Aye, well, maybe you're right, Will, but why did Gisburne run off to join Gulnar and Fenris then?" argued John. "Either the Sheriff got rid of him, or he was in trouble, right?"
Will rolled his eyes. "He went back to the Sheriff, though, didn't he?"
"Maybe the Sheriff wants to get rid of him again," suggested Much.
"He doesn't need the King to do that!" said Tuck. "The Sheriff could easily boot him out any time he wants to."
"Or Gisburne could get himself booted out without anyone's help," muttered Will, causing his friends to laugh.
Tuck wasn't willing to let the subject rest just yet. "Look, we still haven't figured out why King John's coming to Nottingham."
"And what road he'll be taking," added Nasir.
"But I want to know why he's planning to come to Nottingham in the first place!" said Tuck.
"To leave all his fancy jewels with the Sheriff so we can take them from him," answered Will with a leer.
Tuck sighed and looked at Robin. "Why do you think King John's coming to Nottingham, Robin?"
The outlaws turned to their leader as one. Up until that moment, Robin had been trapped in a daze. He sensed that his men were staring at him and found that he had to release the one part of Marion he had left: his memories of her. "I'm sorry, Tuck. What did you say?"
Tuck rose and laid a hand on the young man's shoulder. "Why don't you go and talk to her?"
"What do you mean?" asked Robin, although he knew perfectly well.
"Marion. Why don't you go and talk to her?"
"No. There's nothing left to say. She's made her decision. Nothing I can say will change her mind."
Will threw a twig into the fire. "Well, you can try, can't you? Maybe she has changed her mind."
"It's been a week, Will, and I haven't seen any sign of it."
"Maybe she's afraid," said Much, trying to make a contribution.
Will snorted. "Don't be daft. They love each other."
"Yeah, but if she loves him, then why didn't she stay with us?" asked Much.
The outlaws groaned silently to themselves and Robin put his head in his hands.
"Much, go on watch," said Will.
"Why? What did I do?"
"Just go!"
Much stood up, resigning himself to the task. "Why is it always me who has to do it?" he grumbled, stomping away.
"You know, Much is right," said Robin, once Much had left. "She is afraid. She's afraid that if she loves me, she'll lose me as well. Perhaps she was just trying to be kind. Perhaps she never loved me at all."
"Now hold on!" cried Tuck. "That isn't true! Listen, Robin, I've known Marion for some time. I've known her as a girl and as the woman she has become. She loves you. If you love her, you'll fight for that love. It's not too late. You can still go to her and--"
"No!" said Robin. "She's made her decision and I've accepted it."
John shook his head. "No, lad, you haven't. You've been moping around this camp all week saying nought to any of us. If you really love her, go and tell her! You can't go on like this, Robin. You've got to do something."
Robin seemed rather startled by this outburst: almost as startled as John himself. Robin opened his mouth to speak. Then he cast his eyes away and quickly left the camp. John rose to stop him, but knew it was too late.
Will glared at his confused companion. "Now why'd you do that for?"
"I didn't know he'd do that!"
"Yeah, well, maybe you should have. I should have sent you away instead of Much, that's what I should have done!"
"Ah...shut up, Scarlet!"
"Me? You're the one who--"
"That's enough," said Tuck, putting an end to their squabble. "This isn't going to help him and you know it. Isn't that right, Nasir?"
The Saracen nodded. "It is right."
"Robin needs time to heal his broken heart," said Tuck.
"Time heals all wounds," stated Nasir.
"If he's left alone, he can seek solace within himself and find comfort."
"There cannot be a new day without the sun..."
"As David said to Solomon--"
"Hold on, this is all hogwash, that's what it is!" exclaimed Will. "And since when have you had so much to say?" he asked Nasir. The Saracen smiled and shrugged. "He's made us all mad, that's what he's done. I love Marion as much as you lot. Maybe even more. But it's her fault, ain't it? He's lost his senses completely because of her. He's no good to anyone...He's absolutely useless!"
John sighed. "Will's right. He can't even think straight anymore."
"I'd best have a talk with him, then," said Tuck.
"You had better," agreed Will. "Just keep David, Solomon, Moses, or any of that other lot, out of it."
* * * *
Robin ran through Sherwood, swerving around trees, leaping over fallen logs and branches, heading deep into the forest. His heart pounded within him, his lungs threatening to burst. But he kept on running, heedless of it all.
There was a hollowness inside of him. An invisible claw had tightened around his throat. Thinking of her made every breath he had to take more painful. He stopped and slid to the ground, exhausted more by his emotions than any physical strain. Sweat beaded his brow and his hair clung damply to his face. He closed his eyes for a few moments, opening them to find mist creeping slowly around him. For one moment, the glade was empty. Then, in a flash of brilliant light, Herne, forest god of Sherwood, had appeared. Robin went on one knee and Herne gently laid a hand on his shoulder.
"The Time of the Wolf has ended, but a new time could come to take its place."
"A new time?"
"A time where you control both beginning and end, a time that might have been but wasn't. The people cry out and are lost in pain and despair. Death afflicts them. You cannot hear them. You do not understand until it is too late and the Wheel turns again. Remember that you control your own destiny. The greatest battle will be with yourself, but by believing in what is right you shall succeed. Make of it what you will, Robin i' the Hood."
Herne lifted his hand from his son's shoulder and was gone. Robin watched the mist disappear with him and rose wearily to his feet. What did it all mean? What was he supposed to do? It was another one of Herne's riddles. There had been no visions or dreams to guide him, no path that he could follow. Robin gave a quiet murmur of anger. He may have been chosen by Herne to be his son and do his bidding, but it didn't mean that, today, he had to like it.
* * * *
That night, under a starless black sky, a small group of savage men, both dishonoured and possessed, entered the village of Wickham. Their weapons were daggers, staffs, torches, and a burning desire for revenge. They were the wolves that had been separated from their pack. They were lost and left with nothing.
They knew only one craft: killing. Murder would satisfy their gnawing and relentless hunger for blood. They hungered for the blood of innocents: man, woman or child. It didn't matter in the least to them.
The people of Wickham slept, ignorant of the evil that had begun to menace their village. Some dreamed and some had nightmares. Others tossed and turned, like Edward, who had the fate of his village to fret over.
The past couple of weeks had been hard for all of them. They had suffered much in the fight against Gulnar and Fenris. Some of them had died in this struggle, leaving women without husbands and children without fathers. They had lost their precious grain. They might have starved when winter came if Robin Hood and the other outlaws hadn't helped them. The villagers and outlaws had fought bravely against Gulnar and Fenris. They had certainly earned the grain they had taken from the dead monks of Grimstone.
There was peace in the village now as people tried to continue with their lives. They were safe at present, for a little while at least. But Edward couldn't help feeling tense and frightened about something. At the back of his mind an unrelenting fear nagged at him, but it was one he didn't understand. Surely the dangers they had faced were over. Still, there was that fear in his mind and a terror he felt about something...About what?
A torch was struck against one of the straw roofs and orange flames began to greedily engulf a hut. Then there were screams and weapons clashed. More torches found their way to the village homes. Men and women began to fall, crushed and battered to the ground. Blood spilled as the horror and chaos grew. People who tried to escape from the savages did...at the cost of their own lives.
Both girls and boys were beaten and small children wept for their mothers and fathers. A hundred voices seemed to cry out against this injustice, but no one heard them. Soon Wickham, like Loxley, was destroyed.
* * * *
"Robin Hood!" called a frantic voice. "Robin Hood! Robin Hood, where are you?"
Little John, with quarter-staff in hand, appeared on the well-worn road that led through Sherwood. He met up with a wide-eyed peasant that he had seen enough in Elsdon to know by name.
"Stephen, what are you doing here?" asked John in astonishment.
"Little John, I've just been to Wickham to see Edward and, and..." The man shut his eyes and shuddered.
"What is it, lad?" demanded John, suddenly feeling his blood run cold. "What's happened?"
"I think you had better come...As soon as you can..."
John grabbed the villager's arm and they quickly headed for the camp. In a matter of minutes, the outlaws were rushing to Wickham. Then they were staring at the village in horror.
There was nothing left standing. Huts were just dead black ashes with wisps of smoke rising from the ground. Livestock had been stolen or killed during the onslaught. The villagers of Wickham lay silent and still.
The outlaws broke out of their stunned trances. They bolted across Wickham to search for anyone who might have survived. Then Robin saw Edward, his wife and son huddled together in a pile. Robin shook as he slowly knelt on the grass beside them and took Edward's cold hand in his.
Anger, pain and anguish welled up inside of him like fire. His mind reeled desperately with a whole array of confused and bewildered thoughts.
Why didn't I see this? Why didn't you tell me, Herne? Why couldn't I understand? I could have stopped this if I had known...If only I had known! They were innocent. They did nothing to deserve this. I've fought all this time to save them from poverty and injustice and now they're dead. They're all dead! All dead because I wasn't here to save them. You chose your son wrongly, Herne. I wish you had never laid eyes upon me at all! I wish I had never become your son.
Robin bent his head and closed his eyes, feeling the scalding tears burn in them. He concentrated fiercely and his mind locked with Herne's.
Herne, Lord of the Trees, I call upon you!
There was a flash of lightening and the forest god was before him.
* * * *
Guy of Gisburne was led into the courtyard, his hands tied behind his back. He had given up his struggle. He chose instead to meet death as honourably as he could, as a knight and a soldier. He felt many eager eyes upon him, but he didn't flinch as he was made to kneel in front of the block. He didn't look up at the large dark executioner, with axe wielded in hand. He let himself be blindfolded and rested his head on the hard stone. He gave no speech and said no words. He didn't even make an attempt to pray. His mind was focused on the man who had brought him here and was about to witness his death.
I'm free of you at last, Sheriff, thought Guy bitterly. I'm free. If only I had had more power, Sheriff. I could have beaten you, then. You, and your position, and money, and men. Oh, but I'll get you, Sheriff...Even if I have to wait until you're in hell to do it.
Gisburne's thoughts ended there, as William Brewer finished pronouncing his sentence of death. There was a terrible silence. Guy almost felt his heart stop. Then the axe flew down and the Wheel turned...
* * * *
Robin's head brushed against the pillow. He managed to open his eyes despite the pain that throbbed in his head. He wasn't in Wickham anymore. He wasn't even in Sherwood. He was in a castle, judging by the fine chamber and bed he lay in. Then he realized that it was Huntingdon, the very castle he had been born in.
Robin scanned the room and recognized it as his own. There was a man seated in the corner of his chamber. His head rested in his hands, and fair hair touched his fingers. He lifted his head and Robin stared at him in amazement.
"Gisburne?" Robin croaked, trying to find his voice.
The man turned his head and was out of the chair in an instant. "By Heaven, Robert, I thought you were dead!" he exclaimed, pulling his chair up beside the bed.
Robin couldn't believe it. Gisburne was actually concerned about him. And he had called him "Robert". He never called him "Robert". What was happening here? Was this a dream?
"I should never have left you alone with that horse, Robert, but I thought you could handle him. I didn't know he would buck."
"What happened...Guy?" asked Robin, deciding to use the knight's Christian name since Gisburne had already used his twice.
Gisburne didn't seem to notice. "You were thrown off your horse during the hunt."
"The hunt? What hunt?"
"Don't you remember? Are you all right? I can fetch the physician." Gisburne began to rise.
"No, stay...I'm fine," replied Robin, wishing that he really was.
Gisburne leaned forward. He reached his hand out towards Robin, who flinched and tried to sit up.
"What's the matter with you?" asked Gisburne. "I was only going to feel your head for a fever. You act as if I'm going to hurt you, as if you don't trust me."
Robin was about to say just that, but held his tongue instead. He was better to keep silent until he knew how he had arrived at Huntingdon and why Gisburne's attitude had suddenly changed so dramatically.
"I should never have allowed you to go on that hunt," continued Gisburne, as he actually began to reprimand himself. "Father's going to be very angry when he returns and finds you like this."
"What did you say?" cried Robin.
Guy gave a start. "I said Father's going to be very angry when he returns. He'll want to flog me for this."
"Father?" exclaimed Robin again. Did Gisburne know that they were half-brothers, then?
"Look, are you sure you're all right?"
"Yes...yes, I'm fine."
Gisburne leaned back in his chair and studied Robin, shaking his head. Then the door burst open and a young woman came into the room. She sighed almost thankfully when she saw that Robin was awake and sat down on the edge of his bed.
"Thank God you're all right, Robert," she said quietly, squeezing his hand. "I've brought you some broth to eat. You'll need something to get your strength back." She smiled serenely, and her pale anxious eyes seemed to clear a little as he took the broth from her. She was small and thin. Her hair was pulled back a little too severely in a braid along her back, but she had simple beauty and there was kindness in her manner. She gave Guy a reproachful glance, and Robin watched them both as he broke his fast. Were they friends? Enemies?
"You should never have allowed him to go, Guy. You're reckless enough with your own safety, but to have taken Robert along..."
Robin waited for an angry protest or sharp words, but there were none.
"I should have taken you along, Margaret. We would never have caught anything, but we would have been safe. You could have prayed for the good of the hunt."
Margaret hit Gisburne's arm, but she didn't do it hard enough to hurt him. "It's beastly to hunt down poor defenseless creatures. It's horrid."
"Well, the hounds have a right to their supper, don't they? And the horses needed some exercise..."
"I don't care," Margaret said. "I still don't approve of the sport."
"Oh, you'll never change, Margaret," Gisburne stated with a grin.
Margaret turned away from Gisburne in false contempt and focused her attention on Robin again. "Don't you think that Guy is an absolute boar? I would shun his company from now on." She smiled and patted Robin's arm. "How do you feel, Robert? Are you truly well?"
Robin's mouth had fallen open a little and he was staring at the woman in wonder. "Who are you?" he asked, before he could stop himself.
Margaret gasped and almost fell off the bed. "Guy, he doesn't know me anymore! He's forgotten who I am!"
"I'm fetching the physician," said Gisburne. He rose from his chair, held it out for Margaret, then left the room.
Margaret seemed a little dazed and hurt, as if Robin should have definitely known who she was. Gisburne knew her and even appeared to be on amiable terms with her. Robin couldn't remember seeing her before in his life.
"I'm sorry," said Robin gently, trying to soothe Margaret.
"Oh, no, don't be. You can hardly help it. It's not your fault. You really don't know who I am, do you?"
"No, I don't," Robin admitted.
"Robert, I'm your sister...Margaret."
"Sister?" Robin gasped. Now it was his turn to be shocked. How could this be? How could she be his sister? He didn't have a sister.
"Actually," said Margaret, as if reading his thoughts, "I'm only your half-sister. Guy is my full brother."
Of course, thought Robin. Margaret. That had been Lady Gisburne's name. This young woman must have been named after her.
"Margaret of Gisburne was your mother," said Robin aloud.
"What? My mother was Margaret of Huntingdon. I've never heard of her being called by that other name before. Well, at least you remembered that her name was Margaret. That's something."
Yes, but according to this woman's story, Lady Margaret was never a Gisburne but a Huntingdon, which meant that Lady Margaret must have married his father. But then how did he himself fit in, or his own mother for that matter? Lady Margaret had only died recently and she had died at Croxden Abbey, hadn't she?
"What happened to your mother?" asked Robin.
Margaret shifted in her chair and looked slightly taken aback. "She died in child-bed...shortly after I was born. Guy and I barely knew her. It was your mother who helped raise us. Your mother, Robert. Can you remember her?"
Robin hesitated, wondering what he should say. He was saved by Gisburne as he entered the room with the physician, who Robin knew as the kind old man who had helped him out of many injuries and illnesses as a child. The physician re-examined Robin's wounded head with the same thoroughness that Robin remembered from his childhood. That is, if this man had existed during his childhood.
The physician turned to Guy and smiled calmly. "There's no need to worry, my lord. I'm sure that with plenty of rest, our young Master Robert will be well again and able to remember everything."
"Well, that's good," said Gisburne, who appeared to be sincerely glad to hear the news. "I'm not taking my eyes off of you again, Robert."
Margaret laughed. "Yes, well, you're going to have to, Guy. Robert needs his rest and you won't be able to give him any. I will attend to him
myself."
"That seems like sound advice, my lady," said the physician. "Under your care, he's sure to recover. I'll leave you to it." The physician left and Guy was about to do the same. His sister stopped him.
"Can I speak to you, Guy?" asked Margaret.
"Of course."
"Alone?"
"If you feel it's necessary."
"I do." She rose from her chair and kissed Robin's cheek lightly. "You just try to sleep. I'll return shortly." She took Gisburne's arm and nearly pulled him from the room.
Robin was curious. He wished to know what she had to say to Gisburne in private, but he was too tired to find out. All of this was so confusing and bizarre. What had happened?
Suddenly, he recalled how Herne had turned the Wheel of time, and Wickham itself had seemed to spin with it. Had that turn of the Wheel resulted in this? Everything was so different now, especially Gisburne! His face and body were the same, but his whole manner had changed completely. He was like a different person altogether. Then, there was his sister. It was as if she had appeared out of nowhere. Where were his friends? Were they alive in this strange new world and time? They certainly weren't in this castle. Robin hoped they were safe in Sherwood.
He yawned and struggled to stay awake. As soon as he could, he would have to find a way to return to Sherwood. Once there, he could find Herne and his friends. He needed to discover what had happened and escape from this time.
* * * *
"Guy, I really think that there's something the matter with Robert," said Margaret.
"But the physician said that he would be fine. He had a bad knock on the head, that's all."
"He acted like he had never seen me before."
"Yes, that is strange. You are both so close. He should have remembered you. He remembered me."
"Well, you are brothers. Perhaps your tie with him is stronger."
"Yes..."
"He seemed to know our mother, although he called her Margaret of, um...Gisbone, or some such name, instead of Huntingdon."
"Gisburne? Are you sure?"
"Yes. Have you heard that name before?"
"That was what he called me when he first woke up. I don't know why. I've never even heard of this Gisburne before."
"Then why should he call you by that name?"
Guy's brow creased and he shook his head. "I don't know. I really don't know."
* * * *
Chapter Two
Robin woke the next morning to the sound of birdsong outside his window. He blinked pleasantly as a ray of sunlight fell across his bed. It took him a few moments to remember where he was. When he did, he was more determined than ever to go to Sherwood to find his friends. He felt greatly replenished after his night of peaceful slumber. He was prepared to meet up with almost anything: even his new sister and brother.
He pushed the blankets back from his bed and managed to find some suitable clothes to wear before heading down to the great hall. As the oldest son of the Earl of Huntingdon, it would be Guy's place to be there, dealing with business of some kind while their father was away. Robin soon discovered that this was true, but the business Guy was dealing with was Margaret.
"Guy, I refuse to marry that man," said Margaret. "He's a hideous Welsh...animal!"
"He's not Welsh. His castle is just on the border, that's all. Besides, Father agreed to an alliance, and it is the King's wishes--"
"But I hate him! Guy, he's rude and brutish and, and...disgusting! You said that yourself when he came here a year ago. Why, he's not even Christian!" Margaret crossed herself, while Guy sighed and looked away.
"Margaret, there's nothing I can do," said Guy. "If Owen of Clun wants to marry you--"
"Owen of Clun!" cried Robin.
Guy and Margaret turned abruptly, seeing their younger brother for the first time in hours.
Margaret gazed at Robin in concern. "Robert, you should be in bed. You need your rest."
"I'm all right," said Robin, his mind still reeling with the news of Owen of Clun. He had thought the man was dead. "What is this marriage you're speaking of?" he asked.
Guy grimaced. "Oh, you remember Owen of Clun. He's that Marcher lord King John was trying to win over, so he could pass through Clun's land when he attacked Llwellyn. Half of the nobles in this shire came to the feast Father agreed to hold in Clun's honour. Owen was close to agreeing to King John's terms, but then decided against it for some reason..."
"But now that King John plans to march against the Welsh, he is more eager than ever to seek passage through Owen of Clun's lands," said Margaret. "Lord Owen of Clun will agree to this if he is given more land and power. He wants an alliance with Father and to do that he needs me. Don't you see, Robert? I've been made the pawn. In order to succeed, Lord Owen hopes to marry me!"
Guy rolled his eyes. "Margaret, it hasn't been agreed to yet."
"But according to this letter, it would seem that it has!" Margaret exclaimed. She folded her arms and fumed silently to herself. Robin didn't have to know her to see that she was furious. Of course, if Robin had been in her place, he would have been furious too. He had met Owen of Clun and could understand why anyone would hate him.
"You can't make her marry him," stated Robin firmly. "Owen of Clun is evil."
Guy lifted an eyebrow and studied his younger sibling for an instant before speaking. "It's not my choice to make. It's Father's."
"But Father isn't here," persisted Margaret, "and Owen of Clun could demand an answer before he returns."
"And you refuse to marry him."
"I believe that any lady would. Guy, think about it. Would Father allow me to marry a man like that?"
Guy bowed his head, his eyes fixed on the letter Margaret had placed on the table beside them.
"He wouldn't," replied Robin, "even if the King did wish it. Guy..." He paused, still not comfortable with using Gisburne's Christian name. "Guy, you mustn't agree to this. The King must find another way to form an agreement."
"You see," said Margaret. "Robert agrees with me."
"Be quiet, both of you!" snapped their older brother. "I'm trying to think." Guy took the letter in hand and began to skim through it. "It says here that there will be a feast in two days at Nottingham Castle. An agreement will be reached then. The High Sheriff, Robert de Rainault, will be representing the King in this matter. And, I suppose since Father is away, I'll be representing him...Besides that, the letter tells us nothing we don't know already." Guy lowered the parchment and lifted his eyes again. "I'm going to Nottingham."
"Today?" asked Margaret.
"Now," answered Guy. "See that my horse is saddled," he told a servant.
"Are you going to talk to the Sheriff, Guy?"
"It appears that I'm going to have to. He seems to be the only man who understands what's going on here! Margaret, you'll have to see to things while I'm gone. Robert, you should get some rest!"
"Guy, wait!" Robin followed Guy as he began walking out of the great hall. "I want to go with you," he said, knowing that this could be his best chance of reaching Sherwood.
"You're not well. You should stay at Huntingdon. You'll have other opportunities to go to Nottingham."
"I said I was fine," stated Robin, trying to sound earnest. "I could help. I want to help."
"Yes, well, all the same I think you should stay here, Robert."
"But Guy..." But the older brother was off again and Robin almost had to jog to keep up with him. Robin was determined to go with Guy to Nottingham. He had to find a way to reach his friends in Sherwood, even if it meant begging Gisburne for permission to do so! It reminded him of the arguments he used to have with his father. Then Robin realized how much Guy was like the Earl of Huntingdon and was startled by that fact. Through all of his encounters with Gisburne had he been battling his evil brother or his father? They entered the courtyard.
"Guy, she's my sister too! I have every right to go!"
"Right? Don't speak to me about rights! I'm your older brother, Robert. I have every right to tell you to remain here!" Guy paused, gained control of his emotions, and even managed to smile. Arguing with his brother wasn't sensible. If Robert really wanted to go, why should he stop him? Their father wanted Robert to take on more responsibilities..."Well," said Guy, "I suppose I could use some company on the journey, especially since we'll be riding through Sherwood..." Robin beamed at the thought of it. Luckily, Guy didn't notice. "All right, you can come. But I'm giving you our sister's horse to ride!"
* * * *
It was a bright and beautiful day. The sun's rays were filtering through the trees as the two brothers entered the forest. The branches of the trees circled closely around them, and Robin felt more secure because of it. They had entered his domain now. He listened to Guy's incessant chatter with half an ear and fell to thinking of the freedom he would soon hold again in Sherwood.
"Looking for outlaws, Robert?" asked Guy, and Robin turned to him in surprise. His glances through the trees must have been more eager than he had realized. "They say there are quite a few in these parts," added Guy. "We shall have to watch our backs."
"Yes," murmured Robin.
Guy began speaking about the joys of the hunt again and the wonders of a good horse. At least in this respect Gisburne hadn't changed.
Suddenly, Robin's trained ears heard a twig snap. He knew that someone was about. He looked in the trees, but saw no nets or rope for anyone to swing down from. However, he did see a rope lying across the road and worked out the trick.
There would be at least one man on either side of the road waiting for a traveller or soldier to go past. When the victim had come close enough, the men would raise the rope and knock the rider from his saddle.
Robin would have shared this knowledge with Guy, but Guy seemed so enthralled with the subject of hounds that...
"Jesus Christ!" roared Guy. He stared furiously at the men who had surrounded him, but it was the other brother that was the more shocked of the two.
"Robin!" he gasped, and the dark-haired young man beamed a polite smile. It was Robin of Loxley, a man who should have been dead. Robin, the Earl of Huntingdon's son, gawked at the outlaw in disbelief. How was this possible? How could Loxley still be alive?
"You filthy serfs!" said Guy, who desperately wanted to rise from the ground but couldn't. There were at least five arrows aimed at his throat.
Loxley studied his fallen adversary for a few moments. Then he signalled to his men, none of whom Robin recognized, to lower their weapons.
Guy stood up brusquely, ignoring the hand Loxley offered him. "How dare you assault me?" he shouted. "Who are you, boy?"
"My name is Robin Hood," stated Loxley calmly.
"Robin Hood, is it? Yes, I believe I've heard of you."
"But I don't believe I've heard of you," said Loxley boldly.
"I am Guy of Huntingdon, the Earl of Huntingdon's son."
"Are you?" Loxley smiled again. "Who's this?" he asked, nodding his head in Robin's direction.
"He's my brother, Robert," answered Guy. "Not that it is any of your business, cutthroat. I demand that you let us pass, or I'll see that you have the Sheriff of Nottingham to answer to!"
"We mean you no harm. We only want your money."
"My money!"
"For the poor and oppressed."
"But I've brought no money, wolfshead."
"Then we'll have your horse."
"What good will my horse do you?"
"Well, he'd earn a fair price at the market and, if nothing else, he could feed a whole village for a month," joked Loxley. The other outlaws laughed heartily, but Guy wasn't amused. His sword was soon out of its scabbard.
"If you want my horse, wolfshead, you're going to have to fight me for it," said Guy.
"Fight?" asked Loxley, and Robin was surprised to see him hesitate.
"What's the matter?" said Guy. "Do you lack the courage?"
The other outlaws exchanged concerned glances, but Albion appeared nevertheless.
Both swords crashed together and the fight began. Robin noted that Guy's skill had remained about the same, while Loxley's had greatly deteriorated. Loxley swung Albion through the air with heavy, clumsy strokes, like a boy just learning to fight. Then Robin realized that this was probably what Loxley was. None of the other men wore swords at their belts. It was obvious that they couldn't fight either. Perhaps without the skill of such men as Will Scarlet, none of the outlaws had been properly trained to do so. Will. Where was he? Where were any of them?
Loxley gasped as Albion was wrenched from his hand. Guy held his sword at the outlaw's throat.
"No!" cried Robin. He quickly dismounted his horse and ran between them.
"I wasn't going to kill him," stated Guy cooly, placing his sword back in its scabbard. "I wouldn't have wasted my breath."
The other men quickly had their arrows aimed again, but Loxley ordered them to lower their bows.
"You fought well," admitted Loxley. "The horse is yours."
"As it always was," said Guy. He mounted his steed, and Robin had no choice but to do likewise. He looked around miserably. What had happened? Where were his friends?
"Robin!" called a voice, and Robin's heart leaped.
"Much?" Robin said.
The young man appeared, but he stared up at Robin blankly, his nose crinkling in confusion. "Do I know you, my lord?" he asked.
Guy was watching Robin with questioning eyes. "Do you know this boy, Robert?"
"No," answered his brother quietly. "I must have been mistaken."
"Much, where have you been?" demanded Loxley. "You should have been here over an hour ago."
"I was helping Father."
"You're an outlaw, Much. You shouldn't have even been there."
"But I promised, and-and he said I could go with him when he went to Laxton."
"Laxton! Much, you're the best archer I've got. I need you here!"
"But Robin--"
"How are we supposed to fight for the people if you're not even here half the time? What if someone passes through Sherwood? We'd need your help, then."
"Yes, I'm sure he would," said Guy, sounding smug. "Why don't you just turn yourself in, Robin Hood? Your petty raids and ambushes are pathetic. You're nothing but a common nuisance. I shall report this outrage to the Sheriff and see that you are hanged for your impudence. Come, Robert, these men are idiots." Guy gave his reins a sharp jerk, and his horse glided smoothly past the outlaws. Loxley's gaze fell upon Robin for a moment, before he and Much began to argue again.
* * * *
As soon as he and Guy had entered the great hall of Nottingham Castle, Robin knew that some things hadn't changed. The Sheriff and his brother were there as usual, discussing problems that Hugo was having with his land. The Sheriff was trying to placate his brother but not succeeding.
Guy told a servant that he and his brother wished to be announced. The Sheriff and Abbot Hugo leapt up as the names of their visitors echoed through the hall.
"My lord of Huntingdon," said the Sheriff. He and his brother bowed to Guy and then Robin, much to the latter's surprise. "Please sit down, my lords. Ralph, bring us some wine," he commanded to his steward. The alert young man nodded and hurried off to fetch some.
"We've just been attacked by Robin Hood," stated Guy. The Sheriff and his brother froze in their chairs.
"By heaven!" cried the Abbot.
"My lord, were you injured?" asked the Sheriff, who sounded most anxious.
"No," said Guy. "We were fortunate enough to escape. That man is a menace, Sheriff. He should be dealt with."
"Oh, he will be, my lord. He will be. Yes. Ever since he tried to lead that rebellion, he's been too headstrong for his own good."
"He's starting to become dangerous," said Hugo. "One of my best foresters was found with an arrow in his back!"
Guy glanced at Robin. "That could have been us couldn't it, Robert?"
Robin nodded sullenly.
"Ralph, I want soldiers to be sent to Sherwood at once," said the Sheriff when his steward returned.
"Make it fifty," instructed Guy.
"Uh, yes...fifty," repeated the Sheriff, regretting that he had to use so many men. "And, Ralph, lead them yourself, will you?"
"Yes, my lord."
"Now to other business," said the Sheriff, trying to steer the conversation away from Robin Hood.
Guy was quite happy to change the subject as well. "Oh, yes. After all that has happened, I almost forgot. I need to speak to you about Owen of Clun...and this marriage."
"Ah, the marriage..." purred the Sheriff, thinking about how happy it would make the King and, in turn, himself.
"I want the wedding stopped," said Guy.
"What?" exclaimed both the Sheriff and his brother.
"I want you to find a way to stop it, Sheriff. My sister is unhappy and she refuses to marry the man."
"Well, can't you force her?" asked the Sheriff peevishly.
"I love my sister!"
"Oh, yes, of course you do!" cried the Sheriff frantically. "Of course you do, my lord! We can't make your dear sister marry if she doesn't want to."
"But, Robert, what about the King?" hissed Hugo.
"Uh, yes...the King...That does make things difficult. You see, my lord..." The Sheriff started to explain about the politics involved with such a marriage and the dire consequences that could result if such a marriage was not carried through. Robin barely heard any of it. He waited for the appropriate moment then silently crept from the hall, intent on discovering what he could while he was still in the castle.
There might be a servant who could give him information about his friends and their whereabouts, though if his friends weren't in Sherwood where could they be? Would any of them be in Nottingham?
"Brother Tuck!" called a voice from another corridor. It sounded like a young girl. Robin moved closer.
"What is it, my child?" asked Tuck, employing the gentle learned tone of a dedicated priest.
"Oh, Brother Tuck, I sought penance for my sins and I think God has forgiven me," she said.
"But have you forgiven yourself and are you truly repentant for what you have done?"
"Oh yes, Brother Tuck!" cried the girl. "But...will you listen to another confession? I think I might have left something out, or...I might have sinned again."
Robin heard his friend's cheerful laugh as Tuck patted her arm. "Aye, I'll listen to another confession."
"Thank you, Brother Tuck," the girl said sweetly.
Tuck smiled grimly. "Please don't mention it, my child."
She giggled and scurried off, failing to notice Robin as she passed.
"You can come out now, my friend." Tuck had seen a flash of Robin's tunic. He had known that someone had been listening to his conversation. Robin did what was honest and stepped out into the corridor.
"Tuck," he said.
"Do I know you?" asked the other man.
"Oh, Tuck, not you as well!" groaned Robin.
"I'm sorry, but I don't understand."
"Tuck, don't you know me at all?" implored Robin, almost desperately.
"No. I can't remember ever seeing you before. Should I know you?"
"I...I don't know anymore. I'm Robin...Robert of Huntingdon."
"Oh, yes..." mused Tuck. "You must be Guy of Huntingdon's younger brother." Robin grimaced but nodded.
"What are you doing here?" asked Robin. "Why aren't you in Sherwood?"
"Sherwood? Should I be...? I'm the Sheriff's chaplain, my lord. My place is here."
The Sheriff's chaplain? Robin remembered that Tuck had once been the Sheriff's chaplain, but he had given all of that up when he had joined Loxley and the others. Hadn't he?
"My lord, are you all right? If I can help you in any way..." began Tuck.
"Yes, I think you can. Tell me what happened to the others."
"The others?"
"You know. John, Will, Nasir...Marion."
"Marion?"
"Yes!" cried Robin, realizing he had gotten through to Tuck at last. "Marion. Marion of Leaford. You must know where she is, Tuck."
"Aye, but she's Marion of Leaford no longer," said Tuck sadly. "I'd stay away from her if I were you."
Robin gasped. "Why?" he demanded in alarm. "Where-where is she, Tuck?"
The chaplain sighed. He seemed to find it difficult to speak about. "She's at Belleme Castle. She's Simon de Belleme's wife."
"Wife!"
"Well, no...his widow. Belleme was killed two years ago."
"And Marion...?"
"Is the baroness."
"But that can't be!" protested Robin. "She never married him! She was rescued by Robin Hood. They were in love...He wouldn't have let Belleme marry her!"
"Lady Marion in love with Robin Hood? It's the first I've heard of it!"
"But she...She could never have married Belleme..."
"Well, she did. She was forced into it. From what I've heard, the Baron wanted a sacrifice to his devils and Lady Marion was to be that sacrifice: the virgin innocent and pure. But he changed his mind somehow. I don't know why. Maybe she was more useful to him alive. Well, whatever happened, she hasn't been the same since. From that day forward, she changed."
"Changed? What do you mean, Tuck?"
The chaplain opened his mouth to answer, but he was interrupted by Guy's shouts.
"Robert! Robert, where are you?"
Robin cursed silently.
"I'd better go," said Tuck, who started to shuffle away.
"Tuck!"
"Robert! Where have you gone?" yelled Guy.
"Tuck, come back," pleaded Robin. "We have to talk."
"There's a feast in two days," stated Tuck. "Will you be there?"
"Two days! Tuck, I can't wait that long."
"Robert!"
"I'm sorry, my son," said Tuck again. "I want to help you, but I must go. Come to the chapel when you can and we'll sort through this together."
"Tuck!"
"Robert, where on earth have you gone?"
Robin turned in exasperation and rushed back to the great hall, meeting his brother halfway.
"Oh, there you are, Robert. I thought you had gone deaf. Where did you go anyway? Oh, well, it doesn't matter. Come on. Let's go."
"Go? Now?"
"Of course. Our business here with that miserable little man is done."
"But isn't there anything else you need to discuss?" asked Robin, trying to gain some more time.
"Not a thing," answered Guy obstinately. "The sooner we leave here, the better. That imbecile has said that it's impossible for us to stop the wedding and that an agreement is an agreement. As if we had the chance to agree to anything! Margaret's going to be terribly upset...She'll go on about it for days," he grumbled.
"But why can't we just bargain with Clun ourselves. We could attack him if need be, or even hide Margaret somewhere in Sherwood," said Robin before thinking: something Gisburne was supposed to be an expert at. Guy laughed, thinking it was a joke.
"You are funny sometimes, Robert," he said, thumping Robin on the back. "Well, we mustn't stand about here all day, brother. We've got to get going. There's nothing to hold us in Nottingham."
* * * *
The lady visited her husband's crypt, tracing the carvings on the stone with a finger. It seemed as if a century had passed since she had married him. He had forced her to marry him with his spells, possessing her and holding her in his power. She had tried to fight it, but the Lords of Darkness had overtaken her soul in the end. They made her their slave and victim as they had done with her husband, Simon de Belleme.
He was gone now. She was alone, alone with the Lords of Darkness. They called for her in her dreams, plagued her thoughts, and made her worship them. She feared Azael and the Lords of Darkness, but found herself excited by them too.
They were crying out for chaos and destruction, to destroy the balance between good and evil in the universe. Evil was to exist everywhere and they were to reign like gods on the backs of the victims sacrificed in their honour.
They wanted power: more power than she possessed. They needed an influential lord to take Simon de Belleme's place and carry out the deeds of Azael. The Baroness was to seek out that lord and make him Azael's slave...or die trying.
* * * *
"I'm sorry, Margaret, but you'll have to marry him," said Guy.
Margaret was sewing in one of the castle's antechambers and had been waiting anxiously for her brothers' return. Her hands quivered a little. She dropped her needle, sitting transfixed before them. "I must marry him?"
"Yes. The Sheriff says it would be impossible to break the agreement. The King is determined that this marriage will take place. Any action taken against his wishes would be seen as treason."
"So if I refuse the marriage, I would be accused of treason by the King?"
"No...not you."
"Father!"
"Yes."
"Then there's nothing I can do. I have to marry Owen of Clun..."
Guy bent his head, unable to watch the tears that flooded down his sister's face. "I tried Margaret...I tried." His face had turned even paler than hers. Robin suddenly realized that beneath all of his pompously brave words and actions, Guy had been upset too!
Margaret seemed to notice this as well. She took his hand, forcing herself to smile as he looked back at her. "Don't be sad, Guy. Everything will be all right. I just need time to accept this, that's all. Owen can't be as bad a man as we have made him out to be. There's a bit of good in everyone, I think. I've just got to look a little harder to find it in him, especially since he's a heathen. Oh, Guy, you once said that I could put the fear of God into anybody, even, God forgive me, Lucifer himself! By being a good and patient wife, I shall help him to see God's light and his soul will be saved. I will be a better Christian for it and, with that knowledge alone, I shall be happy," she proclaimed.
Guy wrenched his hand away and headed towards the door.
"Guy!"
"I don't care about Clun's bloody soul or your piety to God!" Guy fumed. And he slammed the door behind him.
* * * *
"Tell me what happened at Nottingham Castle this morning, John," commanded the lady to the giant, who had been known as Little John in another time. The bearded man bowed his head then kneeled at his mistress' feet.
"My lady, two lords visited the Sheriff and the Abbot Hugo."
"Who were these lords?"
"They were brothers, sons of the Earl of Huntingdon."
"His sons? Yes, I remember. Guy and Robert...Go on. Do you know what they spoke of?"
"Guy of Huntingdon wanted to stop his sister's marriage to Owen of Clun. He argued with the Sheriff about it. The Sheriff said there was nothing he could do to stop the wedding. Guy of Huntingdon became angry and left the castle."
"Then it is as I have seen it...John, tell the servants to prepare my belongings and ready the horses. And fetch Nasir. Tell him we're going to Nottingham Castle to spend a few days there as the Sheriff's guests."
"Yes, my lady," replied John, his voice devoid of emotion. He left the room and Marion de Belleme smiled, clapping her hands together.
"Guy of Huntingdon," Marion murmured and she began to laugh aloud.
* * * *
"My lord, the Baroness de Belleme is coming towards the castle," reported Ralph.
"God's Teeth!" groaned de Rainault. "Not Marion again!" He bustled off to the courtyard and arrived just in time to greet her.
"Lady Marion. How good it is to see you again," lied the Sheriff. Marion was assisted from her horse, and the Sheriff politely kissed her hand. "My lady, the feast isn't for another two days. I'm flattered that I should receive a visit from you so soon."
"I've come to stay, Sheriff," Marion announced and she walked past him into the castle. John and Nasir were flanking her on either side. The Sheriff hurried after her. She gave orders to her two servants and looked calmly around the castle.
Marion was still quite young, but much of her girlish spirit had left her. She was the widow of a baron with important matters on her mind. She hardly seemed like the Marion of old, who had been so gentle and kind-hearted. Her years at Belleme Castle had made her harder. Much harder. She was still rather stubborn, free-willed, and clever too, but all of these assets were being used for evil purposes rather than good ones.
Her beautiful auburn hair had been restricted by a tight bun and hidden under a dark veil. Even her lively face had become more pale and hardened.
She resembled a dark statuette with her severe black gown. She seemed rather frail, but she was stronger than she looked. She had great control over herself and, for that matter, other people as well. She was a powerful woman and expected to be treated like one, as the Sheriff quickly discovered.
Marion seated herself in the great hall, watching the Sheriff expectantly, as if waiting to be served. The Sheriff poured her some wine then sat down beside the young woman who had once been his ward. He feared her. He feared her almost as much as he had feared her husband. Sometimes he feared her more.
Marion did not like the Sheriff, but she believed he could be useful. She smiled at him sweetly, and the Sheriff knew that she was up to something.
"My lord," said Marion, "I have heard news that there is to be a marriage between Margaret of Huntingdon and the Marcher lord, Owen of Clun. Is this true?"
"Yes, my lady. In fact, I am representing the King himself in this matter," boasted the Sheriff.
"You are? Then you must be on good terms with the Earl of Huntingdon," observed Marion pleasantly.
"Well yes, I suppose so, my lady," said the Sheriff.
"And his sons?" asked the lady.
"His sons? Ah, well..."
"Guy of Huntingdon doesn't want this marriage to take place, does he?"
"How do you know that?" questioned the Sheriff in alarm.
"I have my ways," Marion responded softly. "Tell me, what is to be gained by this marriage?"
"Why, the King shall gain passage through Owen of Clun's lands, and Owen of Clun shall form an alliance with one of the most influential families in England."
"But surely he won't gain everything. Lady Margaret is just the daughter. The earldom won't be his..."
"The earldom will go to the oldest son."
"Guy of Huntingdon?"
"Yes."
"And then to his oldest son?"
"He is unmarried, my lady, but--"
"Oh, I see," said Marion.
The Sheriff eyed her warily. "My lady, may I ask why you are taking such an interest in all of this?"
"No, you may not!" Marion snapped. Then she smiled, deciding to be indulgent. "Because Azael wishes it and Azael is everything," she uttered. The Sheriff crossed himself, and Marion fingered the silver pentacle around her neck.
* * * *
Robin gazed out of a window, eyeing some trees beyond the castle's garden. He wished he was back in Sherwood, where the trees were taller and one could look several miles before seeing any sign of a building or castle.
Although it was good to be back at Huntingdon, the castle where he had been born and raised, he knew it wasn't his home now. He felt alienated by it. He was a stranger to Huntingdon, possessing a brother and sister he barely knew. Also, his mind kept wandering back to Herne, Marion, his friends and Sherwood.
He still wondered about the fates of Will Scarlet, Little John and Nasir. Would Will be living in Lichfield with his brother? Would John be a shepherd in Hathersage? Would Nasir even be in England now, or was he in the Holy Land? Then, there was Marion. Was Marion really the Baroness de Belleme? What was it that Tuck had tried to warn him about her? Robin couldn't understand why she would be seen as a threat.
How was it that Robin of Loxley was still alive? Why had only Much joined him? Since Loxley was still alive why wasn't Marion with him? Why hadn't he rescued her from Belleme? They should have been happily married and living in Sherwood, along with not just Much, but the others as well. Why had everything changed so completely?
He would have to find a way to see Herne. Only Herne could provide the answers he required and help him find a way to escape from all of this.
He could disappear tonight while Guy and Margaret were at the feast. They would be leaving within the hour. He could return to Sherwood soon after. This could all be over in a matter of hours. Herne would turn the Wheel of Time again, and everything would be as it should be.
Unfortunately, the situation was more complicated than Robin had imagined. He had family problems he hadn't even begun to think about...
"I'm going, Guy!" yelled Margaret, as she and her brother stepped into the garden. "I have every right to be at a feast that determines my future!" Her voice echoed as it travelled up the walls to Robin.
"I said I'd take care of it," said Guy. "You're not needed there. And, besides, last night you told me that you didn't want to go!"
"Well, I do now and-and you promised!"
"I promised nothing!"
"I'm going!"
"Well, go then! Why should it matter to me?" Guy headed into the castle, climbed a set of stairs, and ended up in the same room as Robin. They stared at each other for a few moments and then the older brother strode past the younger one without a word.
"Guy!" Margaret was running up the stairs after him. She gasped a little in surprise when she met Robin on her way past.
"He went that way," replied Robin, pointing helpfully towards the door.
"Thank you." Margaret was about to leave when she suddenly decided against it. "No, maybe I shouldn't go after all. He doesn't want me to and I'm not really certain if I wish to go."
"But you have to go," said Robin, realizing that she was changing her mind about the feast. He needed her to go or he might not be able to reach Sherwood.
"Oh, Robert, he's been angry ever since he returned from Nottingham! If it will help him keep his temper, then maybe I should stay."
"No, Margaret, you should go. Forget Guy and his temper. You deserve to go. Besides, he's not angry with you. He's angry about the marriage."
"Do you really think I should go?" asked Margaret.
"Yes! Go, Margaret. Go."
"Oh...I don't know..."
"You must go," stated Robin firmly.
Margaret hesitated for a moment then turned to Robin with eager eyes. "Then come with me, Robert."
"What?"
"Oh, please. I couldn't possibly bear it alone."
"But-but Guy will be with you."
"Guy's barely speaking to me and-and when he does speak to me, we only quarrel. Oh, you must come, Robert," she pleaded. "Please..."
Robin didn't want to go, but he found it impossible to refuse her. She looked as if she truly needed help. Surely his visit to Sherwood could be postponed for just a little longer. If he went to the feast, he could meet with Tuck in the chapel as Tuck had suggested. The monk could provide him with more information about Marion and possibly the others. It couldn't hurt to know more about the situation he was dealing with. He decided that his visit to Sherwood could wait and soon found himself relenting.
"Oh, thank you, Robert!" Margaret cried, kissing him on the cheek. "You had better speak to Guy and tell him you're going. I'll have a servant prepare your things." She clasped her hands together and hurried off, her pale face almost glowing now that some of her burden had been lifted. Robin felt a twinge of guilt. Margaret was his sister and he had done nothing before this to help her.
He would help her now by attending the Sheriff's feast. At least he could make that one effort for his sister: a sister he wouldn't have after the Wheel turned.
Robin headed off to find his brother. He found Guy in another chamber talking to the steward.
"I sent him a letter two days ago. Are you certain there's been no reply?" said Guy.
"No, my lord. The Earl has sent nothing."
"God's Blood," cursed Guy. He fell heavily into a chair. Then, as if by instinct, he lifted his eyes to Robin. "Leave us," he told the steward and, with a nod, he invited Robin in.
"You're going tonight, aren't you?" Guy asked.
"Well..." began Robin.
"Good," replied Guy. "I'll need your help. It could prove to be a difficult evening."
"It could?"
"Yes. You have to promise me that you'll support any decision I might make tonight and stay on my side no matter what happens."
"Your side?" asked Robin. He didn't understand why Guy was asking him this.
"This is very important, Robert. Can you promise me that?"
There was a long pause as Robin considered the matter carefully. What was Guy planning? Could he really trust him? He was his brother. He was going to have to.
"I promise."
"Thank you," said Guy and, before Robin knew it, his brother had disappeared from sight.
* * * *
Chapter Three
Several hours later, Robin found himself in Nottingham Castle. He sat at the high table between the Sheriff and Guy, feeling much as he had felt the last time he had shared a meal with the two men: more than just a little disgusted. However, this time it wasn't the Sheriff or Guy who were causing his disgust. Owen of Clun had been placed at the far end of the table, and Margaret had been made his unfortunate supper companion.
Margaret sat stiffly, looking as if she were trying desperately not to cry. With everyone watching her, she couldn't.
Clun had been telling her stories about his blood games and the prowess of his champion, describing the horrors of Clun Castle in intimate detail.
In turn, Margaret had tried to be as polite and civil as possible, but she soon discovered that this effort on her part was futile. Clun did not care about manners or decorum. He was a barbarian and such concepts eluded him.
Margaret sat mutely. She touched nothing on her plate, her hands clenched fiercely in her lap. Robin felt compelled to watch her, as painful as it was to do so. He glanced at Guy. He was watching Margaret too or, rather, Owen of Clun.
Like Margaret, Guy had paid little attention to the food on his plate. He had only picked at it with his dagger. His eyes were ice, and Robin could detect a gleam within them that was almost murderous. He would have to keep a close watch on Guy tonight in case he was as willing to act on his feelings as Gisburne usually was. Robin still couldn't be sure what characteristics kept Guy of Gisburne and Guy of Huntingdon apart, or what qualities they shared in common.
The tension seemed to grow with every minute that passed. It only lessened to a degree, when Guy finally tore his eyes away and the tables from supper had been cleared away for the further festivities of the night: festivities that entailed more than any of the guests had first anticipated.
As the light dimmed, and the servants lit more candles, she came. She appeared from the shadows, floating gracefully into the light. She charmed all of the guests as they each, in turn, beheld her.
Her hair flowed loosely down her back, glowing in the torchlight. She was dressed in an impressive gown of deep purple silk that rustled softly across the floor as she walked. She moved like a dancer, her eyes sparkling with some secret enchantment. The guests cleared a path for her, moving as if controlled by magic. Everyone was silent as she walked towards the center of the hall. She was beautiful, so beautiful that she was bewitching.
Robin stared at her in amazement. "Marion?" he whispered. But it was as if he did not exist. Marion ignored him completely, neglecting to even toss Robin a glance. Instead, she walked over to Guy. She curtsied, taking his hand as she did so.
"My Lord of Huntingdon," she said, and Guy gaped at her, bewildered.
* * * *
"Who are you?" Guy asked as Marion rose from her curtsy and smiled up at him.
"My name is Marion," the baroness answered.
"Marion," Guy mused. Then he smiled too. Gradually, the silence that had filled the hall reverted back to a healthy noise; the guests began to speak among themselves. Robin stood watching Guy and Marion. He couldn't believe it. Marion was being polite to Guy and, even more shocking, friendly as well! What was she doing? She hated him. Why should she wish to speak to him? Robin knew that Guy wasn't Gisburne, but surely he wasn't the type of man Marion would choose to speak with. What was she up to? Guy seemed to be wondering the same thing.
"My lady, why...why did you present yourself to me? I'm not the host, or the guest of honour. You should have greeted the Sheriff or Owen of Clun."
"But, my lord, I wished to greet you," said Marion. "I've already had the honour of meeting the Sheriff, and Lord Owen of Clun is with Lady Margaret." Guy looked quickly past Marion to his wretched sister and frowned. "You disapprove?" asked Marion.
"It's not for me to say," Guy replied curtly.
"Then it should be," said Marion gently and, to Guy's surprise and Robin's chagrin, she took Guy's hand and kissed it. Guy's frown promptly left him. Then, so did Marion.
"Wait! Come back!" cried Guy, but it was Robin who went after Marion.
"Marion!" said Robin.
Marion turned, thinking it was Guy. Robin quickly read the disappointment on her face.
"What is it?" Marion asked coldly, as if speaking to a mere slave. Robin felt as if his heart might stop.
"What are you doing?" demanded Robin angrily. "What's happened to you?"
"What do you mean?" Marion said. "I don't even know you!"
"But you did once, Marion...So did Much and Tuck. You just don't remember. It...it was another time," Robin muttered, feeling foolish at the words he chose to use as an explanation.
"Another time?" Marion asked. "What are you talking about? Who are you?"
"I'm Robert of Huntingdon," said Robin, wishing he wasn't.
Marion laughed lightly. "Oh, I see..."
Did she see? Did she understand?
"You're Guy of Huntingdon's younger brother!" said Marion. "You dear boy. How sweet!" She patted Robin's cheek as if he were a child then walked away.
"Marion!" shouted Robin, but Marion only laughed some more before continuing on her way.
"What a woman," said Guy, suddenly appearing at Robin's side. "She...she is incredible! So beautiful...and what spirit!"
Robin stared at Guy, his anger growing into fury. He wanted to hit him. He wanted to hit him with a force that would send him reeling against a wall, smashing his bones as it did so. He wanted to hit him harder than he had ever hit Gisburne.
Guy spoke about Marion as one might speak about a horse. He didn't love her. He was amused by her. He thought of her as an entertaining diversion. Guy had no real feelings for her, and Robin hated him for that. Robin had been in love with Marion since the first time he had set eyes on her. It had been less than a fortnight ago that they were to have been married in Wickham. Robin had lost her to the church and, now that she was free, she was chasing after Guy! And Guy didn't seem too upset by the idea. In fact, he really seemed to be enjoying it! Robin remembered the look on Marion's face when she had spoken to him. It was the same look he had seen when she had been the captive bride of Owen of Clun, possessed and controlled by Gulnar. It was as if she were being controlled now, as if she were under someone else's power...
Robin shivered as he felt an icy tendril reach across the room to touch his back. Gulnar had entered the hall. He went over to speak to his master.
"Where have you been?" demanded Clun, pulling him aside and out of Margaret's earshot. "You should have been here. This feast could determine if there will be a marriage between myself and that Huntingdon girl, Gulnar, and if there will be sons in the House of Clun to carry on my name. Where were you? Meddling with your spells?"
"No, master," hissed Gulnar. "I was doing something much more important than that!" He flashed Margaret a hideous leer, and she shuddered, seeking refuge by Guy's side. Gulnar's eyes followed her, but rested themselves on Robin.
They widened and the right one twitched. Then, he started to laugh, a hollow eery laugh. It echoed throughout the hall, taunting Robin and challenging him to a deadly battle between the Powers of Light and Darkness.
I have to leave here, Robin thought. I have to go to Sherwood. He bolted from the hall, his feet carrying him away from Gulnar's maniacal laughter.
"Robert! Robert, where are you going? Come back here!" commanded Guy. But Robin didn't care. Guy could shout his lungs out if he wanted to. Robin had had enough. He marched down a corridor, hoping it would be one that could lead him out of the castle. Where it led him though was to the chapel and Tuck, who was delighted to see that Robin had sought him out at last.
"Welcome, my son," said Tuck. "Sit down and I shall hear your confession." He tried to usher Robin to a chair, but this wasn't what Robin had had in mind.
"Uh...no, Tuck," Robin stated quickly. "I'm sorry but there isn't time."
Tuck smiled gently. "My son, the Lord always has time."
"I'm sorry, Tuck. I have to go. I can't give you a confession."
"Then we should talk. You look upset."
"I'm fine. I really must go."
"Where? What are you running from?"
"I'm not running from anything."
Tuck frowned. "Then why do you insist on leaving?"
Robin groaned. Tuck was the one who was being insistent. Why did he have to be so stubborn?
"It would help if you talked about it," added Tuck.
"There's nothing to talk about," said Robin, although he sat down all the same.
"Does this have anything to do with your brother?" asked Tuck. Robin wondered if there was ever a time when it didn't. Tuck sensed that he was right and continued. "I saw him and the Lady Marion speaking to one another at the feast."
"You did?"
"I was looking for you. We agreed to meet, remember?"
"I remember."
"You were concerned when I told you about her. Maybe we should speak about that and how you feel about her and your brother."
Robin shook his head. He couldn't believe that any of this was really happening.
"I want to help," said Tuck. He laid a hand on Robin's shoulder, smiling, attempting to give him some reassurance.
Maybe Tuck could help. He seemed to be the same kind and understanding man whom Robin had always known. It was a question of whether Robin could trust him or not. Robin decided that he didn't have much else to lose if he took that risk.
"Tuck, I want to talk to you, but not just about the feast or Guy and Marion. I want to tell you everything."
"Aye, all right," said Tuck.
"I wouldn't agree too quickly," warned Robin. "This could be a very long story."
* * * *
The Baroness de Belleme entered the courtyard, glad to be free of the smoky, crowded hall. She took a breath and inhaled some of the fresh, cool air surrounding her. The wind blew through her hair and caressed the soft fabric of her dress. She crossed her arms, hugging herself for warmth. The nights were becoming colder now as autumn and winter made their approach. Soon the leaves would die and fall from the trees to the ground, the downy white snow covering them like a blanket.
She watched the night's stars, her mind racing with thoughts of her plan. She had caught Guy of Huntingdon's attention, but she had yet to capture his heart. He had seemed interested enough in her. He may have even been attracted to her. But would this be enough? She didn't want to resort to sorcery, but she would do so if it became necessary. She needed to act quickly. Azael and the Lords of Darkness demanded it.
She sighed and walked briskly across the rough stones of the courtyard. She had to succeed. She could not afford to fail. She knew what kind of fate awaited her if she did. It made her blood run cold...
She gave a start and froze, terrified by the sudden vision that appeared before her. It came forward, a pale being skulking close to the ground. For a moment, Marion mistook it for an apparition. She feared that it might be a spirit sent from the underworld to torment her. She wasn't far from being right. Her ghostly spectre was Gulnar.
The bald and bony little man gave a satisfied chuckle once he had spotted Marion. She eyed him with disgust.
"Marion, how good it is to see you again," he said, waiting to observe her reaction.
"We've never met!" Marion answered in alarm.
"Oh..." Gulnar replied, feigning sadness. "I must have been mistaken." He turned to walk back the way he had come, but Marion grabbed his arm. He grinned, peering at her with almost wolfish delight.
"Who are you?" Marion demanded, her courage returning again.
"I am Gulnar, servant to the Lord of Clun," said Gulnar.
"Your master is the Lord of Clun?"
"Yes..."
"You're a sorcerer," said Marion, realizing this at once.
"Yes," Gulnar purred. "And you are a sorceress: a very powerful one at that!"
Marion smiled, pretending to be flattered by the compliment. "Your master is hoping to wed Margaret of Huntingdon, is he not?" she asked innocently.
"Yes, and so he shall!"
"Are you sure? I think he will not."
Gulnar's eyes almost popped out of their sockets. "What do you mean?" he cried. "Why do you think that?"
"Her brother is against the marriage and he dislikes your master."
"Ha! Do you really think he would dare stop this marriage?" snarled Gulnar.
"I wouldn't be surprised if he tried," said Marion.
"Then the man's a fool!" snapped Gulnar.
Marion shrugged. She gave no response, but Gulnar was aware of what she was thinking.
"I know what you are planning," said Gulnar. "You are planning to wed Guy of Huntingdon."
Marion lifted her eyebrows, but gave away nothing. "What makes you think that?" she asked calmly.
"Because Azael and the Lords of Darkness wish it!"
Marion gasped. "How could you know that?" she exclaimed.
"I see things," said Gulnar, with the wise tone of a sage. "You need him for your plans. I could help you."
"Help me?"
"I could break a man's spirit in the moment it takes for a bird to flutter its wing," Gulnar stated, and Marion felt as if his eyes were delving into her soul. She forced herself to look away, and Gulnar chuckled at what appeared to be weakness on her part. Marion then glared back fiercely, and Gulnar's laughter stopped.
Marion placed her hands on her hips and studied Gulnar shrewdly. "And what would you gain from this?"
"I would gain nothing, but my master would gain everything. You said that Guy of Huntingdon was against this marriage?"
"Yes."
"Well, you could help convince him that it is right. He could cause trouble if he continues to go against my master."
"And you think I could convince him?"
Gulnar sneered. "Oh, yes. I'm sure you could, my lady. In return, I shall do what I can to help you if..."
"If?"
"If the House of Clun is spared when the great Azael comes to power. We would willingly serve him of course, but--"
"I will do what I can," said Marion.
"Then it is agreed?"
"It's agreed," stated Marion, and the two shook hands.
* * * *
Tuck listened to the tales that Robert of Huntingdon told him in amazement, finding them difficult to believe but hard to doubt. The young man held such conviction in his voice as he spoke about his adventures in Sherwood as Robin Hood!
Robert of Huntingdon claimed he was led by a forest god named Herne in a battle between the forces of Light and Darkness, along with Lady Marion, himself, a Saracen, a giant, a vengeful bully and a miller's son. It seemed impossible.
In Tuck's opinion, Robert of Huntingdon was deranged. How else could an apparently sane man hold such loathing for the Norman lords of his own race? He accused almost every noble in the country of being corrupt! He was the son of the Earl of Huntingdon. It didn't make sense. However, what baffled Tuck more was what Robert said about Guy of Huntingdon.
Robert stated that Guy of Huntingdon was his worst enemy: a cruel, heartless knight who worked as the Sheriff of Nottingham's steward. It was ridiculous. The Sheriff practically cowered at the sight of him! Robert had even stated, though not in direct words, that Guy of Huntingdon was illegitimate. How could he be so spiteful towards his own brother? Tuck knew that Guy of Huntingdon was hardly perfect, but surely he didn't deserve this! He wondered if it was mere jealousy over a woman that caused the younger brother to be so infuriated with the older one.
Robin concluded his story and waited to see if Tuck would speak. However, the monk was too bewildered to know what to say.
"You don't believe me!" said Robin at last.
"My son..." began Tuck.
"It's true! You have to believe me, Tuck!"
"Even when you choose to speak against your own brother?" asked Tuck, a little too coldly. Robin felt his temper flare.
"I'm not speaking against him. I'm telling the truth. Guy is...Guy is my enemy. He's arrogant, cruel, deceitful--"
"'And Cain talked with Abel his brother: and it came to pass, when they were in the field, that Cain rose up against Abel his brother, and slew him.'"
Robin turned his head away, exasperated. Cain and Abel was a biblical story of the jealousy between two brothers. Cain had murdered his brother when God had accepted Abel's offering and not his own. Was Tuck comparing him to the murderous brother?
"I'm not Cain," argued Robin angrily. "If anyone is, he is!"
"I didn't say that you or Guy was Cain, nor did I say you were Abel," said Tuck. "Those two brothers could have worked out their differences, but, instead, one was killed and the other made to walk to the ends of the earth in suffering. Now are you telling me that you want this to happen to you and your brother? Talk to him, Robert, before it's too late."
* * * *
"My lady, where have you been?" said Guy, approaching the Baroness in one of the castle's corridors. "I've been searching everywhere for you."
Marion watched him, feigning a smile of delight. "My lord, I didn't know I was lost," she answered.
"Well, when you didn't return to the hall, I thought that someone should go find you."
"Are there not other ladies you should be searching for, my lord?" asked Marion boldly. But Guy wasn't one to easily blush.
"No other lady has taken the liberty of kissing my hand before," said Guy with a grin.
"Did I dishonour you, my lord?"
"Dishonour? No. But you did disappoint me."
"How did I disappoint you?"
"You left the hall before I had the chance to ask you for a dance!" he cried.
"Or kiss my hand," added Marion and she held it out before him. Guy laughed and accepted her invitation, touching the back of her hand briefly with his lips. He then laid his fingers against her cheek. He leaned forward and Marion waited for what must surely be a kiss...
"Let go of me!" screamed a voice from nearby. Guy tore himself away.
"Ignore it," stated Marion quickly, resting her hand upon Guy's shoulder. "It's probably just two of the servants, that's all."
"No, it...it sounded like my sister!"
"It couldn't have been," said Marion, fighting to keep Guy's attention, but Guy broke away and hurried down the corridor. "My lord!" Marion cried. Then she had no choice but to follow. Guy was calling out his sister's name, positive that it was her voice he had heard. He soon discovered that his suspicions were correct.
Owen of Clun, drunk and lustful, was making strong advances at Margaret, who, small and frail, had trouble fighting against them. Guy felt the fury well up in him. He saw that part of Margaret's gown was torn at the shoulder and tears flooded down her cheeks. When Margaret saw Guy she ran to him, sobbing in shame, sorrow and relief. Guy held her for a moment, then passed her gently to Marion.
Owen of Clun held the smirk of an idiot, so Guy treated him like one and pounded him in the face. Clun staggered back, but didn't fall to the ground. He straightened up and gazed at Guy stolidly, rubbing away some of the blood that dripped from his nostrils.
"It's been decided, Huntingdon," Clun slurred. "She'll soon be my bride and I can treat her as I like. And there won't be any damn brother that can stop me!"
"You filthy heathen. Do you really think I'm going to let you marry her? I wouldn't let you marry my horse!"
"You dare to insult me, Lord Owen of Clun?" Clun shouted. "Get on your knees, boy, and I'll show you what it is to be insulted!"
"Don't call me boy, you miserable dog, or I'll do more than just wipe that smirk from your face!" raged Guy.
"Is that a challenge, Huntingdon?"
"Yes, it would seem that it is!"
The men drew swords, and both women watched them in horror.
"Guy, no!" protested Margaret, as they commenced fighting. She would have run between them if Marion had not had enough sense to hold her back.
"Don't be stupid! You'll be killed!"
"We have to stop them!" cried Margaret. "We have to do something!"
"Stay here," Marion commanded firmly. "I shall get help."
"Then hurry! Please!"
Marion lifted the skirts of her silk purple gown and ran down the corridor.
The two men continued to fight, their faces gradually becoming clammy with sweat, their swords ringing in their ears. They fought on for what seemed an eternity to Margaret. Guy had the upper hand and was trying to use it to his advantage, but Owen was strong and not prepared to surrender just yet. However, as they continued, Owen's strokes became clumsier as the depths of his drunkeness became more and more apparent.
Guy's strokes remained true and his fury was unrelenting. It didn't matter how tired he got. Clun had tried to dishonour his sister and blacken the Huntingdon name. He had to pay through way of defeat, humiliation, and possibly even bloodshed: that was how enraged Guy of Huntingdon was. It proved to be his downfall.
Owen of Clun's captain, Grendel, came into the corridor in search of his master. He quickly found him with another lord he couldn't quite remember. That lord was fighting against his master. His master was in danger.
Grendel drew his own sword and approached the two lords. Guy had just disarmed Owen. He had decided, with a cooler head, that he would spare Clun if he apologized to his sister and called off the marriage. But Clun didn't know this and neither did Grendel.
Owen caught sight of his captain, with sword in hand, and his features changed from fear to surprise. Guy wheeled around and Grendel struck his sword into Guy's belly.
Margaret screamed. Guy felt sick and dizzy as the pain of his wound ripped through him. Everything started to blur around him as he fought to stay on his feet. He tried to fight it, but it overtook him and he collapsed.
Margaret fell on her knees beside him. She started to weep, calling his name softly between shattered breaths. Owen turned to Grendel furiously.
"You fool!" he spat. "That was Guy of Huntingdon, the Earl of Huntingdon's son! You've just killed the man who was to be my brother, Grendel!"
His servant turned pale and swallowed nervously. "M-my lord, how was I to know that he was the Earl of Huntingdon's son? He was trying to kill you!"
Owen growled and struck Grendel with the back of his fist. "You idiot! How am I going to explain this to the King? He and the Earl will want my head for this!"
"My lord, we must return to Clun Castle. No one can harm you there. No one will dare try. We'll take the girl. While we have her they can do nothing, master."
"Yes, Grendel, that's good. Margaret of Huntingdon will be my hostage first, then my wife! Come, girl, on your feet!" Clun grabbed Margaret and pulled her up by the wrist.
"No!" Margaret shrieked. "Don't touch me! Leave me alone, you murderer!" She struggled violently, and Clun found it was a challenge to keep her still.
Clun laughed, his teeth flashing in triumph. "Ah...what spirit, Grendel. Look at how she fights. I love her already!"
Margaret kicked and flailed her arms, bruising and scratching Clun in the process. Clun yelled then nodded to Grendel, who hit Margaret in the face. Margaret was thrown over Lord Owen of Clun's shoulder and carried off to his castle as a prisoner.
* * * *
Marion had been stunned when she had arrived in the hall and found it filled with silence. She had gazed around in astonishment. Each and every lord and lady had been slumped forward at their tables or stretched out on the floor. They had been sleeping so soundly, that they appeared to be dead. Marion had tried frantically to rouse a few of these nobles, but whatever enchantment they were under would not wear away.
She had run down to the barracks, attempting to find a soldier that could help her. But everything had been the same. There wasn't a single guard or soldier who was awake.
She couldn't understand this. Was Azael testing her in some way she couldn't fathom? Why would Azael risk Guy of Huntingdon's life to do it? He was too important to the Lords of Darkness. They wouldn't want him to die.
Marion kept running. There had to be someone in Nottingham Castle who could help her end the fight. Then she remembered Guy's younger brother. What was his name...? Robert. Yes, that was it. She would find Robert. He would stop the fight.
She scoured the castle, determined to find Robert of Huntingdon. It was by chance that she bumped into him as he was heading for the stables with Tuck. Robin had again decided that he would go to Sherwood, but had found that he was unable to go alone. Tuck had refused to let him go there at night, unaccompanied.
Robin was very surprised to see Marion once more and wondered, with a faint heart, if she had been trying to find him. He decided that it was Guy she was pursuing. He stood passively, waiting for the blow she was surely going to deliver. She did deliver a blow, but it wasn't the kind he was expecting.
"Robert, you must come at once!" Marion exclaimed breathlessly. "Your brother and Owen of Clun are fighting!"
"What? Where are they?" demanded Robin.
"Come with me. I'll take you to them."
The three rushed to the corridor where the battle had taken place. They froze. Guy of Huntingdon lay motionless on the ground.
"Guy!" cried Robin, kneeling quickly beside him. Guy groaned and Robin lifted him gently by the shoulders. "Guy, can you hear me? What happened?"
Guy opened his eyes. The lids fluttered weakly. "He's taken her, Robert," he gasped. "You...you must save her."
"What do you mean? I don't understand."
"Clun has...Clun has taken our sister...You have to save her, Robert...before it's too late..."
"Guy..."
Guy's head fell back and his body went limp in Robin's arms.
Marion felt for a pulse along Guy's neck. Her eyes widened in terror. "He's dead!"
"Dead?"
Guy was dead. His brother was dead. Robin felt a kind of numbness fall over him as he lowered Guy's lifeless body to the ground. Robin had fought him for so long and now Guy was dead. It didn't seem real. He had never expected this to happen. Was he supposed to be happy about his enemy's demise, or grief-stricken by his brother's death?
There was nothing but the slight tightening of his throat and the heaviness of his limbs as he rose to his feet.
Tuck was praying over Guy's body, but Marion just stared at it blankly. Robin walked away slowly. He headed for the stables to find his horse.
Tuck soon ceased his prayers, lifted his head, and followed. He believed that he could now do more for the living brother than the dead one.
Marion remained where she was, oblivious to everything except the despair she felt over Guy of Huntingdon's death. What was she to do now that he was gone? What would happen to her plans? What would happen now that she had failed Azael?
Marion heard the sound of footfalls behind her. Without looking, she knew who it was. "You said you would help me," she said quietly. "You have betrayed me."
Gulnar stood over Marion and Guy, gazing down at the latter's corpse in morbid fascination.
"Why didn't you stop your master from killing him?" Marion asked. Then it dawned on her. Gulnar was the one who had concocted the spell to make everyone in the castle sleep. He had purposely wrecked her plans.
"Why did you do it?" Marion hissed. "We had an agreement! Now he's dead and I'm likely to follow! You've ruined everything, Gulnar!"
The sorcerer started to laugh, and Marion stood up to slap him. Gulnar grasped her arm before she could do so and held it tightly like a vice.
"Do you not think I can bring him back from the dead? Do you not think I can make his heart beat again and his breath quicken? Do you doubt my powers, Marion? Your own husband created a circle of power to protect himself from death. He lays there now, waiting...waiting for the Arrow."
"The Silver Arrow?" said Marion. "He was a fool. It doesn't exist anymore. It may never have existed at all."
"Are you certain? Wasn't Herne's son supposed to guard it?"
"You mean that outlaw, Robin Hood? I don't think he's even seen it."
Gulnar grinned. "What would you say if I told you that he had and that it truly did exist? Would you believe me?"
Marion didn't answer.
"Herne kept it hidden for years, so that no one would ever find it again. But I knew where it was and it was on this day that I came to find it!"
Marion gasped as silver flashed before her eyes. Gulnar was holding the Arrow.
"I stole it from Herne," Gulner said. "I took it from right under him and he didn't notice. Herne's son did nothing. He didn't know. I took it because I knew we would need it tonight."
Marion shuddered. "You mean that...But we can't...It's impossible!"
"Oh, but it will be, Marion. We must go quickly. The Sheriff and his guests will soon be awake. I have told your servants to prepare a cart in which to carry his body."
"But where are we going?"
"To Belleme Castle where, with the sun, this man shall rise again!"
* * * *
Chapter Four
For once, Sherwood seemed to be a rather mysterious and frightening place to Robin, as he and Tuck passed through the forest in the moonlight. Perhaps he felt this way because it was late and he was tired. Maybe all of the events of the evening had had more of an affect on him than he had first realized.
He thought he saw objects that weren't really there, as trees took the form of monstrous figures and shadows clawed with menace from their wake. The eery echo of a lychfowl reverberated through the forest with fearful clarity. As Robin passed a glance to Tuck, he saw that the monk's eyes were wide and that he trembled almost visibly in fear. Tuck had obviously heard the tales that had been told about the ghosts and spirits of Sherwood as well.
Robin had never believed in them himself, but, at the moment, he couldn't help wondering if the sounds made by the various creatures of the night weren't some signal to mortals from the dead...Robin quickly shook this ridiculous thought from his head. He scolded himself for allowing his imagination to run rampant like that and for thinking that Tuck could believe in such stories. Surely, even Tuck wasn't that superstitious...or was he?
A twig snapped and Tuck halted his horse, staring wildly around him. Robin stopped as well, but only with the intention of explaining to Tuck that there was nothing to fear, that the twig had probably been broken by a small bird or animal. However, Robin soon found that Tuck's fears were justified as a man stepped quietly on to the road, his figure only a silhouette against the faint light of the moon.
There was the soft and deadly sound of metal sliding from a scabbard. The stranger had drawn his sword. "Your money," the stranger said, edging closer to them, "or your life." He eyed the young noble on the grey horse in defiance, but Robin only smiled. Some light had fallen on the stranger's face. Beneath the hint of an unshaven cheek and tousled unkempt hair, lay fierce and aggressive eyes.
Robin knew who it was. It was Will Scarlet.
* * * *
The cart wheeled into the courtyard, dwarfed by the oppressive vision of Belleme Castle. The cart rattled over rough cold stones, its still passenger jolting momentarily as if possessing life once more. Marion gazed long and hard at it, as if to ensure that it didn't but wishing that it did.
The cart stopped and John and Nasir were soon lifting Guy's bloody corpse from it, following their mistress' instructions and carrying it straight into the castle. Marion glanced anxiously at Gulnar, who only leered at her unpleasantly. She shivered. It was a cold night to be about in, a cold night to be waking the dead.
A sharp wind blew and, even in the darkness, Marion could see it was the young witch, Lilith, who walked on its tail. Lilith, who had once been servant to her husband, Simon de Belleme, and one with the Lords of Darkness. No night was ever too cold for Lilith, thought Marion grimly, watching Lilith approach their small party of horses with the utmost confidence. Oh, yes, she Lilith the true Powers of Darkness as an enchantress and disciple of the Dark path.
Marion envied her her powers and the weight she seemed to wield with the Lords of Darkness. However, they had chosen her, Marion, to lead them in their present quest, not Lilith. Or had they? Was there a look of smugness in those flaming dark eyes and the slight upward tilt of Lilith's chin? Had they chosen this woman to take her place?
Marion's eyes were ice to smoulder the burning coals, but the fire kept burning as Lilith returned the waves of repugnance, intensifying them with her own fiery resolve.
Lilith had never liked Marion, nor had she trusted her. She had always hated her for marrying the Baron and living so near him as his wife: a title that Lilith had sought and craved for herself but had failed to attain. She loathed Marion because she feared that the Lords of Darkness and Azael favoured her for her greater beauty, intelligence and inner strength. And now Marion sat like some goddess upon her horse, making her, Lilith, feel more mortal than she wanted to be. However, Marion didn't feel much like a goddess. She glared down at the cloaked woman in front of her with pure animosity.
"What are you doing here?" Marion demanded angrily. "I told you never to come here again."
"I was summoned here," responded Lilith heatedly. "Here, Baroness. Is this not your hand?" She reached into her cloak and removed a scrap of parchment, waving it like a challenge before her mistress. Marion snatched the parchment, trying to read its dark curly scratches in the moonlight.
"This is not my hand," Marion said at last.
"Then who sent it to me, my lady?" asked Lilith innocently, passing a silent glance to Gulnar, knowing full well who had sent the letter.
"You!" cried Marion, catching the meaning behind Lilith's look. "What right had you to summon one of my servants?"
"Every right, Marion," answered Gulnar softly. "We cannot bring him back without her."
"Bring him back?" said Lilith. Then the fire behind her eyes grew brighter. "We're bringing him back?"
"No," replied Marion, knowing that Lilith meant the Baron. "Not yet." Lilith frowned, her pretty mouth pouting angrily. "We are bringing back Guy of Huntingdon. He was killed tonight."
"Guy of Huntingdon!" snapped Lilith. "Who is that?"
"He is the Earl of Huntingdon's son," said Marion.
"And his heir," added Gulnar, a faint glimmer of greediness dancing in his eyes.
"So?" demanded Lilith. "Why should you wish to save him and not your own husband? How can you even hope to save him without the Silver Arrow?"
"We have the Silver Arrow!" said Marion. "Do you really think I would have suggested such a plan without it? And, as for Guy of Huntingdon, that is no business of yours! You are my servant and the servant of Azael and the Lords of Darkness. All you have to know is that they have commanded this to be done and, so, you will do it without question. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Baroness," hissed Lilith, with pure venom, "I understand."
"Good," said Marion, shivering again. "Let's go inside. The sooner we begin all of this, the better."
