NOT YOUR FRIEND pt1
FOREWARD
In the first of three parts, Robin i’ the Hood is returned to Marion and his friends after an absence of one year, during which time they thought he was dead. He is now 21 years old. After regaining their strength and adding a different Alan a Dale to the band of Merries, all of the outlaws pledged once again to fight for England’s freedom. During a ceremony, using Albion, the outlaws were each given the ability to hear Herne in their minds, the same as Robin, although it would be sparingly, as needed. Herne sent them on a quest to find a mysterious voice only Robin could hear. They thought both the Sheriff, Robert de Rainault, and Sir Guy of Gisburne were dead. However, they discovered that Gisburne was not only alive but ‘the voice’ crying out to them. At the end of part one, they have saved him, but have no clue as to why. None of them are even sure they want to know, including Guy. Part two tells the story of Gisburne’s recovery and gives more insight into why the real Alan a Dale has come into their midst. Part three will send them on their next quest.
More stories will follow in my AU Robin of Sherwood series.
DEDICATIONS
This story is dedicated to Michael Praed (who still inspires me), the late Robert Addie (whose voice still haunts, and sometimes annoys me, as Gisburne), Claire (for all the beta work), Dan Rendell (for patiently answering all my questions), and all the fans of ‘Robin of Sherwood’ for keeping the dream alive.
_____________________________________________________________________________
An AU story based on the characters in Robin of Sherwood
Not Your Friend
Copyright 2012
Seven months had passed since the Nottingham Castle rescue. Now Guy was propped up against what the outlaws referred to as the Gisburne Tree. It had not escaped anyone’s notice that he was recovering faster than was to be expected for the condition they had found him in. But they had also accepted that there seemed to be a form of ‘protection’ around their camp that none of the soldiers had ventured into. Sometimes, it seemed as if they were invisible. However, they all remembered when they had first decided to follow Robin after the Castle Belleme incident. Besides his impassioned speech, he had added, “Shall I tell you where we are? My village. This is where Loxley stood.”
Two days after the rescue, Marion had slipped into the forest and gone to Herne’s cave. When she arrived at the far shore on the flat-bottomed boat, Herne was standing there with a small leather pouch. He handed it to Marion and simply put in her mind: his drink. Marion had nodded and left. She waited another two days, and when it seemed that Gisburne was responding to the medicine, she knew she had to say something.
Lying with Robin that night, her head on his shoulder, Marion murmured softly, “Do not be angry with me, Robin, but I knew that nothing in the forest could help Guy, so I visited Herne. I know we promised ‘no secrets,’ but I had to do something!”
“I followed you.”
“I love you.”
And they slept.
Marion, Tuck, and Alan had taken to calling Gisburne “Guy”. The others had not.
The outlaws foraged for roots and small game. One time, Much had brought down a deer, and there was celebrating that night, as it was the best they’d felt in a long time. Little John had visited Meg in Wickham and, at daylight, she had given him clothes.
“Your fishing trips get more and more interesting as time passes,” Robin had commented, raising an eyebrow and shaking his head. But the clothes fit Guy fairly well, so everyone was willing to let it go.
+++++
After a month, Guy was able to sit against the tree on his own. He now disdained lying down. His mind was working clearly and he felt he needed to keep an eye on all of them.
Tuck decided that it was time to get Guy moving, so Marion and Alan started bending Guy’s ankles, knees, wrists, and elbows. At first, Guy groaned, but soon lapsed into silence, gritting his teeth. Unknown to the rest, Guy had also taken to doing the same exercises on his own at night when they slept. The pain was worse without help, but he had survived war, Hugo, de Rainault, a myriad of failures, and the dungeon: he could deal with this. At least this had a purpose. He tried not think of his time at the hands of Sir Richard Fitzgilbert. I need to find a way out of here. Everything is most unnatural. Why have I not been found? Not that I want to be found. Where shall I go? The Sheriff will eventually go to Wales. He will think that is where I have gone, if I live. Still… As the time passed, he was soon able to feed himself. What a relief! Another relief would be never listening to Alan sing again!
+++++
A shower hit the clearing and everyone dashed into the shelter of the surrounding trees, pulling blankets over their heads as they huddled close to the ground. Suddenly, Tuck yelled, “Guy!” He stood up and scuttled across the empty space in his sandaled feet, holding the blanket over his head. The rest of the outlaws snickered, although Marion tried not to until she looked at Robin.
Tuck reached Guy, who had pulled his blanket over his head, exposing his feet. The friar pulled it back down and plopped himself next to Guy, throwing his own blanket over both their heads. He was puffing away, trying to catch his breath, and Guy bit the corner of his mouth. As time passed and Tuck’s breathing became less audible, Guy slowly turned to look at him. “Marry me.”
Tuck straightened up and made one of his famous quizzical faces. Turning his head, he found that Guy was now looking straight ahead into the blanket. “Well! I must say that in my time living in the forest, several young women have flirted with me rather openly on occasion, despite my cassock. But none have actually proposed! And, while I do find it all quite flattering, I am afraid I must decline as I am already married to the Church.” He tried to look very serious, but had to turn away to hide a small smile.
A little more time passed before Guy closed his eyes and gave a long-suffering sigh. “I was joking…”
“Since it is a first for you, Guy, and given your tone of voice, how was I to tell?”
“I can be quite funny when I am of a mind to do so.”
“Never!”
“We spent much time together in the past. I am surprised you never noticed.”
“Well, I never noticed!”
“Are you two quite all right under there?”
Tuck lowered the blanket at the sound of Alan’s and Robin’s voices and blinked his eyes as he looked around to see that the shower had passed and a watery sun was peeking out. They were surrounded by a half circle of all the outlaws. His round face broke into a bright grin. “Quite, actually.” Guy sighed and scowled.
Will and Nasir broke into a fit of giggles and walked toward the hollow they had dug under one of the big trees for storage to get dry wood for a new fire. Much, looking a bit bewildered, turned and scurried after them. John reached down and grabbed Tuck’s upheld arm by the wrist, pulling him up with a loud grunt and rolling of the eyes. They, too, walked off toward the damp ashes. Robin bit the corner of his mouth then grinned, his eyes twinkling. Marion pulled the damp blanket off of Guy and they turned and walked away.
Left alone, again, Guy scowled at his wet feet and the damp hem of his scratchy trousers. This particular rain, and being caught at a bit of levity with Tuck, had not turned his mood very sour. His thoughts drifted to times he had huddled by himself or with other solders in downpours lasting for hours…days! Then he tracked ahead to the opulence of Hugo’s abbey. Even Nottingham Castle wasn’t all that bad. It was a bit damp and drafty, but there was crackling warmth from all the fireplaces to sit by with a cup of wine to ease the chill inside as well. He suddenly thought of home and the wild thunderstorms, when he huddled against his mother’s skirts. At night, he sometimes awoke, crying out in fear at a very loud crack of thunder and lightning that lit up his room like midday. His father would stomp in and yell at him not to be a baby and wouldn’t let his mother comfort him, instead slamming the door shut. But it made me stronger. Father was right. How would I survive now, if I had slept with Mother holding me all night?
Guy looked at the outlaws. They already had a fire going and were drying themselves by it. He narrowed his eyes. Is there nothing those wolfsheads cannot do? He finally zeroed in on Robin. Go ahead and laugh, peasant. Just go ahead and laugh. Finally, he bellowed: “WET FEET!”
The laughter and talking stopped and they all turned to look at Guy, with the exception of Alan.
“’E’s off again,” muttered Will.
Why are they all just staring at me! Why is no one doing something? He turned his full attention on Robin. “DO YOU THINK YOU ARE BETTER THAN ME, WOLFSHEAD?”
Alan sucked in his breath. It is finally coming. Whatever Guy has been hiding is finally coming. And it is aimed straight at Robin and Robin alone. And, as all the others jumped to their feet, Alan stayed where he was.
“WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?”
Robin straightened himself to his full height, pulled at the strings of his cowl, and spoke in an even tone, staring Guy in the eyes. “I know who I am. Robin of Loxley.”
The others quickly noted Robin’s answer. Something was happening. Perhaps the answer to all their questions. The main one being: Why was Sir Guy of Gisburne here with them in Sherwood?
Guy broke into a nasty smile and narrowed his eyes. “NOT BY A LONG CHALK! NOT EVEN IN YOUR WILDEST DREAMS! YOU ARE NOT LOXLEY! NOR ARE YOU SHERWOOD OR EVEN MILLER!” Guy shot an angry look at Much, then returned to Robin. “YOU ARE GISBURNE!” Guy was breathing heavily from so much exertion, but nothing could stop him now.
‘Never!” Robin refused to raise his voice and lower himself to Guy’s level. He would not rise to that bait. Guy wants to make me lose control in front of Marion and the men. I will not let that happen.
“GISBURNE!”
“My father was Ailric of Loxley.”
“EDMOND OF GISBURNE!”
Robin kept his voice steady. “And, although I have been adopted by Herne, I would gladly have been Robin the Miller, if that had been my fate.”
“LOXLEY RAISED YOU. FATHER CREATED YOU!”
Robin took a breath to steady himself. “My mother would have never willingly given herself to the likes of your father!”
Involuntarily, Little John reached out and put his hand around Robin’s upper arm, as if to hold him back, although Robin had not moved.
“I NEVER SAID…WILLINGLY!”
Everyone’s eyes grew round and their mouths dropped open. They felt as if their feet were rooted to the spot.
Guy pressed his lips together and paused for his last words to take effect before he added his final volley with a huge evil grin:
“THAT IS WHY SHE KILLED HERSELF AFTER YOU WERE BORN! AND, MORE’S THE PITY, SHE DID NOT HAVE SENSE ENOUGH TO DO IT BEFORE!”
Marion let out a small gasp and, covering her mouth, started to shake. All but Alan clenched their fists, waiting for a signal from Robin.
But Robin surprised them by pulling away from John. Robin turned, picking up his tunic, and walked into the forest. They stared at Guy for a moment then felt the anger drain out their bodies. With a bitter taste in their mouths, they disappeared into the trees, singly, except for Much, who trailed after John, his face covered in tears. Only Tuck remained. He sighed, glanced quizzically at Alan still crouched across the fire from him. Then he knelt. He crossed himself, laced his fingers, closed his eyes, and, with bent head, began to pray.
________________________________________________________________
Alan waited for a moment after Tuck started to silently pray, then rose and walked calmly over to Guy. He sat so that their upper sleeves were touching. Alan could feel that Guy had raised his temperature with his angry outburst. Staring into the trees, Alan said, “Feeling better?”
“Rather.” Guy looked at Tuck and noted that Alan could speak in a low voice and had, no doubt, barely moved his lips. Guy, as a child, had often thought that his father had been carrying on conversations with visiting friends that were not heard by others around them. As a solider, Guy, himself, had been trained to speak this way to avoid attracting attention from the enemy or giving away any secrets. And Alan was correct. Guy had now relaxed and his temper had subsided. He was known for his quick flashes of anger that, just as quickly, disappeared. The men under his command in Nottingham had known the signs and when to make themselves scarce.
“Well, I am happy that I have already changed my name to Dale.” He used the abbreviated version of his name - the same way Guy had used an abbreviated version of Robin’s name moments earlier.
Still eying Tuck, Guy answered in kind. “But you are still a Gisburne, brother.” Again Tuck didn’t move. Guy relaxed even more and started breathing evenly. “I wish he would have hit me.”
“Why?”
“I would have…”
“Robin is not you, brother.”
Frowning slightly, Guy said, “Too bad.” Oddly enough, Guy suddenly found himself thinking of the boy, Much. Why had he attacked him? There was no reason for it. Except that he did bring Robin into my life when he killed that deer. He shook his head slightly to clear his thoughts of Robin and turned them to Alan. He had long suspected that Alan was more than he appeared to be, but finding him with his most hated enemies had been a bit of shock. Still, he did help care for him from the very beginning and, now, had stayed with him when everyone else had left. I wonder how long...? Guy had begun to ask himself, when he realized that Alan had just said the very same thing aloud. “Hmm?”
“How long have you known?”
“What?”
“About Robin.” Where had Guy gone wandering? Alan thought, feeling a bit annoyed. Most likely, thinking about himself…as usual.
“Not very long. After we got back to Nottingham, the Sheriff was quite peevish. He had been that way since he had returned to camp. Then the outlaws escaped and it surely looked like the Hooded Man. He shot me. Eventually, Richard Fitzgilbert began to believe the rumours and we were both arrested after his meeting with King John. I was not there.”
“Poor Gisburne.”
“Shut up! Do want to hear this or not?”
“Sorry, it was getting off track. Go on.”
“I was not ‘getting off track’. I was pointing out that I did not know why I should be arrested. I was shot!”
“Aah, but not killed. Why should Robin spare you?”
Guy frowned. In all the time he had been alone, it was the one thing that had not occurred to him. “De Rainault was hanged, but I was just moved to another cell. Time passed. Dunno how long. In there you lose track of the days. At least Arthur was not there…”
“Arthur…?”
“Nevermind. Ask the boy. Finally, Fitzgilbert came to see me. Started asking questions about our father. Did not know what he was on about. Something about a treasure. He was not inclined to believe that I knew nothing. After a few months, he told me it had to do with my brother. So, I thought he was talking about you.”
“Depends on how many Gisburnes there are.”
“So far as I knew at the time, three.”
“Hmmm…”
“Finally, The Sheriff told me that the treasure was Robin i’ the Hood’s mother’s. Something about Wales.”
“You love Wales…”
Guy snorted, sighed, and resumed. “Robin Hood! My brother! What a disgrace! A wolfshead!”
“Still…you called for him.”
“Never!”
“’Tis true. Robin heard you.”
“I yelled ‘no’…Screamed his name in my mind. Not aloud. I was furious with him and it kept me from screaming at the pain. It was all his fault after all.”
“That would explain why you would not tell us who or where you were.”
“Why would I? I hate him. A common outlaw.”
“So, I have risen in stature?” Alan smiled and laughed silently. “I remember when my mother died and she told me why we had moved to France. And, me, realizing I had known you for years. She felt safe there, I would assume.”
“So you told me.”
“I do remember your face. You were almost as livid as Robin.”
“You are a bleeding musician!”
“Troubadour.”
“I hate you…”
“You hate everyone.”
“I try…”
Silence.
“I was tortured! Really, if I had known there was money to be had, even in Wales, would I be in Nottingham working for the sheriff, like a servant?”
Alan realized there was no answer for that and his brother was not expecting one. So, he changed the subject for the time being. If there were a treasure of some type in one of their father’s holdings, that would be between the two of them. Alan had already decided to distance himself from this whole affair, if it were possible.
“Guy?”
“Hmm?”
“Did you love your mother?”
“I adored her. Most likely why the Abbot Hugo gave me leave when I got word she was dying. I was glad to be with her at the end. Father was stiff and strict. But he was an excellent soldier. He did care for me, most especially when I went off to fight, in his footsteps. But mother was kind. Very gentle.”
“Did she know about our father’s, umm, hobby whilst away?”
“Most likely. But she would have forgiven him anything. She loved him. Women are odd. However, he loved her too. He always came home. She was at his bedside when he died and wept bitterly for days.”
“Was your sister allowed leave when your mother died?”
“No. More’s the pity. But when you take vows in the Church, you never leave the walls until you die. Why she took that type of vows, I shall never know. She was like Mother.”
Again, silence.
Guy glanced at Tuck, still in prayer. “I was in love once.”
“You looked in a mirror?”
There was a big sigh, with rolling of eyes, before Guy continued. “I was in love twice.” Alan smiled. Guy does have a sense of humour, he thought without interrupting Guy’s flow of words. “She was a Jewess. I was willing to give up everything for her. But she would have none of it. Claimed to be ‘promised’ to another.”
“A Jewess? You?”
“Hmm. Could have converted her.”
“Never.”
“Well, we shan’t find out. Robin interfered. I hate him.”
“Who are you trying to convince? Me or you?”
“You are writing a stupid ballad in your stupid head, Alan, whilst I am telling you of my lady love. You annoy me. But to be related to a wolfshead is positively unthinkable!”
“Could be worse.”
“How?”
“Could be Scarlet.”
“I hate you…”
Again, silence as Alan smiled and reminded himself that he had never found an ounce of humour in his brother, yet he had now heard two jokes in one hour.
“And he is pagan!” Guy said, interrupting Alan’s thoughts. “Herne the Hunter, Lord of the Trees, Keeper of Light and Darkness, indeed.”
Guy snorted.
“He is real.”
“Never! He is a man. I shot him.”
“Bad shot…”
“Still a man.”
“But he lives. And even if you had succeeded in killing him, there would have been another. He is possessed by Herne. I have seen Herne, himself. And heard him. He can speak to you inside your head.”
“Alan!”
“Oh, I know who the true God is. So, does the Friar there. He prays for them until the time he can use Robin to convert them to Christianity. You should have seen the look in Tuck’s eyes when he realized I speak Latin…” Alan smiled smugly.
“Robin is Christian?”
“Not now. But when the people regain England and put a proper king on the throne, Tuck is sure Robin will cross over. Herne will have no more use for him. And the people follow him. As far as I know, Herne could be working for God. Stranger things have happened. De Rainault saw snakes when he opened the Talmud.”
“I was there. I must say it was the strangest thing I have ever witnessed. However, in the end, I enjoyed seeing it.”
He’s off again. Better change the subject. “How many Gisburnes do you think there are, then?”
“Including my ‘little mistakes,’ as de Rainault used to call them?”
Alan smiled and mused to himself. “Wonder if I have any ‘little mistakes’?
“You two must look like your mothers.”
“Indeed. I've heard a description of our father and you do look just like him.”
“I am the lucky one.”
Alan scrunched his face. “A matter of opinion. And that would be three against one, now.”
“I am also growing tired of this. It is getting us nowhere.” Guy closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the tree. And they look a bit like mother. Father must have preferred dark-haired women. My sister looks a bit like them. Then, he shuddered at the last thought and decided to think of other things.
Alan sat in silence until he heard steady breathing, then he stood up. Guy is right, until Robin returns.
When Alan reached the fire, Tuck crossed himself and stood up. Looking straight into Alan’s eyes, he muttered, “Yes.” Then he turned and walked to the edge of the lake and stared into the water. He bent down and picked up a stone. Throwing it into the lake, he watched the small plop spread out into larger and larger circles. Life…he mused.
Alan knelt down, crossed himself, laced his fingers, and, bowing his head, placed his fingers against his lips, with his nose resting on top. What do I do now, God? Who do I listen to? Who do I follow?
Alan.
Alan started and, opening his eyes, looked at the friar, but Tuck was still staring at the water’s edge.
Alan?
He looked at Guy, but he was still sleeping peacefully. Alan squeezed his eyes shut and resumed his praying position.
Come.
Alan took a deep breath and crossed himself. Opening his eyes he found himself staring at Albion. Robin had left the sword behind and the fire danced on the blade. Pressing his lips together and shaking his head, Alan stood and walked into the trees. God be with me.
________________________________________________________________________
In the first of three parts, Robin i’ the Hood is returned to Marion and his friends after an absence of one year, during which time they thought he was dead. He is now 21 years old. After regaining their strength and adding a different Alan a Dale to the band of Merries, all of the outlaws pledged once again to fight for England’s freedom. During a ceremony, using Albion, the outlaws were each given the ability to hear Herne in their minds, the same as Robin, although it would be sparingly, as needed. Herne sent them on a quest to find a mysterious voice only Robin could hear. They thought both the Sheriff, Robert de Rainault, and Sir Guy of Gisburne were dead. However, they discovered that Gisburne was not only alive but ‘the voice’ crying out to them. At the end of part one, they have saved him, but have no clue as to why. None of them are even sure they want to know, including Guy. Part two tells the story of Gisburne’s recovery and gives more insight into why the real Alan a Dale has come into their midst. Part three will send them on their next quest.
More stories will follow in my AU Robin of Sherwood series.
DEDICATIONS
This story is dedicated to Michael Praed (who still inspires me), the late Robert Addie (whose voice still haunts, and sometimes annoys me, as Gisburne), Claire (for all the beta work), Dan Rendell (for patiently answering all my questions), and all the fans of ‘Robin of Sherwood’ for keeping the dream alive.
_____________________________________________________________________________
An AU story based on the characters in Robin of Sherwood
Not Your Friend
Copyright 2012
Seven months had passed since the Nottingham Castle rescue. Now Guy was propped up against what the outlaws referred to as the Gisburne Tree. It had not escaped anyone’s notice that he was recovering faster than was to be expected for the condition they had found him in. But they had also accepted that there seemed to be a form of ‘protection’ around their camp that none of the soldiers had ventured into. Sometimes, it seemed as if they were invisible. However, they all remembered when they had first decided to follow Robin after the Castle Belleme incident. Besides his impassioned speech, he had added, “Shall I tell you where we are? My village. This is where Loxley stood.”
Two days after the rescue, Marion had slipped into the forest and gone to Herne’s cave. When she arrived at the far shore on the flat-bottomed boat, Herne was standing there with a small leather pouch. He handed it to Marion and simply put in her mind: his drink. Marion had nodded and left. She waited another two days, and when it seemed that Gisburne was responding to the medicine, she knew she had to say something.
Lying with Robin that night, her head on his shoulder, Marion murmured softly, “Do not be angry with me, Robin, but I knew that nothing in the forest could help Guy, so I visited Herne. I know we promised ‘no secrets,’ but I had to do something!”
“I followed you.”
“I love you.”
And they slept.
Marion, Tuck, and Alan had taken to calling Gisburne “Guy”. The others had not.
The outlaws foraged for roots and small game. One time, Much had brought down a deer, and there was celebrating that night, as it was the best they’d felt in a long time. Little John had visited Meg in Wickham and, at daylight, she had given him clothes.
“Your fishing trips get more and more interesting as time passes,” Robin had commented, raising an eyebrow and shaking his head. But the clothes fit Guy fairly well, so everyone was willing to let it go.
+++++
After a month, Guy was able to sit against the tree on his own. He now disdained lying down. His mind was working clearly and he felt he needed to keep an eye on all of them.
Tuck decided that it was time to get Guy moving, so Marion and Alan started bending Guy’s ankles, knees, wrists, and elbows. At first, Guy groaned, but soon lapsed into silence, gritting his teeth. Unknown to the rest, Guy had also taken to doing the same exercises on his own at night when they slept. The pain was worse without help, but he had survived war, Hugo, de Rainault, a myriad of failures, and the dungeon: he could deal with this. At least this had a purpose. He tried not think of his time at the hands of Sir Richard Fitzgilbert. I need to find a way out of here. Everything is most unnatural. Why have I not been found? Not that I want to be found. Where shall I go? The Sheriff will eventually go to Wales. He will think that is where I have gone, if I live. Still… As the time passed, he was soon able to feed himself. What a relief! Another relief would be never listening to Alan sing again!
+++++
A shower hit the clearing and everyone dashed into the shelter of the surrounding trees, pulling blankets over their heads as they huddled close to the ground. Suddenly, Tuck yelled, “Guy!” He stood up and scuttled across the empty space in his sandaled feet, holding the blanket over his head. The rest of the outlaws snickered, although Marion tried not to until she looked at Robin.
Tuck reached Guy, who had pulled his blanket over his head, exposing his feet. The friar pulled it back down and plopped himself next to Guy, throwing his own blanket over both their heads. He was puffing away, trying to catch his breath, and Guy bit the corner of his mouth. As time passed and Tuck’s breathing became less audible, Guy slowly turned to look at him. “Marry me.”
Tuck straightened up and made one of his famous quizzical faces. Turning his head, he found that Guy was now looking straight ahead into the blanket. “Well! I must say that in my time living in the forest, several young women have flirted with me rather openly on occasion, despite my cassock. But none have actually proposed! And, while I do find it all quite flattering, I am afraid I must decline as I am already married to the Church.” He tried to look very serious, but had to turn away to hide a small smile.
A little more time passed before Guy closed his eyes and gave a long-suffering sigh. “I was joking…”
“Since it is a first for you, Guy, and given your tone of voice, how was I to tell?”
“I can be quite funny when I am of a mind to do so.”
“Never!”
“We spent much time together in the past. I am surprised you never noticed.”
“Well, I never noticed!”
“Are you two quite all right under there?”
Tuck lowered the blanket at the sound of Alan’s and Robin’s voices and blinked his eyes as he looked around to see that the shower had passed and a watery sun was peeking out. They were surrounded by a half circle of all the outlaws. His round face broke into a bright grin. “Quite, actually.” Guy sighed and scowled.
Will and Nasir broke into a fit of giggles and walked toward the hollow they had dug under one of the big trees for storage to get dry wood for a new fire. Much, looking a bit bewildered, turned and scurried after them. John reached down and grabbed Tuck’s upheld arm by the wrist, pulling him up with a loud grunt and rolling of the eyes. They, too, walked off toward the damp ashes. Robin bit the corner of his mouth then grinned, his eyes twinkling. Marion pulled the damp blanket off of Guy and they turned and walked away.
Left alone, again, Guy scowled at his wet feet and the damp hem of his scratchy trousers. This particular rain, and being caught at a bit of levity with Tuck, had not turned his mood very sour. His thoughts drifted to times he had huddled by himself or with other solders in downpours lasting for hours…days! Then he tracked ahead to the opulence of Hugo’s abbey. Even Nottingham Castle wasn’t all that bad. It was a bit damp and drafty, but there was crackling warmth from all the fireplaces to sit by with a cup of wine to ease the chill inside as well. He suddenly thought of home and the wild thunderstorms, when he huddled against his mother’s skirts. At night, he sometimes awoke, crying out in fear at a very loud crack of thunder and lightning that lit up his room like midday. His father would stomp in and yell at him not to be a baby and wouldn’t let his mother comfort him, instead slamming the door shut. But it made me stronger. Father was right. How would I survive now, if I had slept with Mother holding me all night?
Guy looked at the outlaws. They already had a fire going and were drying themselves by it. He narrowed his eyes. Is there nothing those wolfsheads cannot do? He finally zeroed in on Robin. Go ahead and laugh, peasant. Just go ahead and laugh. Finally, he bellowed: “WET FEET!”
The laughter and talking stopped and they all turned to look at Guy, with the exception of Alan.
“’E’s off again,” muttered Will.
Why are they all just staring at me! Why is no one doing something? He turned his full attention on Robin. “DO YOU THINK YOU ARE BETTER THAN ME, WOLFSHEAD?”
Alan sucked in his breath. It is finally coming. Whatever Guy has been hiding is finally coming. And it is aimed straight at Robin and Robin alone. And, as all the others jumped to their feet, Alan stayed where he was.
“WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?”
Robin straightened himself to his full height, pulled at the strings of his cowl, and spoke in an even tone, staring Guy in the eyes. “I know who I am. Robin of Loxley.”
The others quickly noted Robin’s answer. Something was happening. Perhaps the answer to all their questions. The main one being: Why was Sir Guy of Gisburne here with them in Sherwood?
Guy broke into a nasty smile and narrowed his eyes. “NOT BY A LONG CHALK! NOT EVEN IN YOUR WILDEST DREAMS! YOU ARE NOT LOXLEY! NOR ARE YOU SHERWOOD OR EVEN MILLER!” Guy shot an angry look at Much, then returned to Robin. “YOU ARE GISBURNE!” Guy was breathing heavily from so much exertion, but nothing could stop him now.
‘Never!” Robin refused to raise his voice and lower himself to Guy’s level. He would not rise to that bait. Guy wants to make me lose control in front of Marion and the men. I will not let that happen.
“GISBURNE!”
“My father was Ailric of Loxley.”
“EDMOND OF GISBURNE!”
Robin kept his voice steady. “And, although I have been adopted by Herne, I would gladly have been Robin the Miller, if that had been my fate.”
“LOXLEY RAISED YOU. FATHER CREATED YOU!”
Robin took a breath to steady himself. “My mother would have never willingly given herself to the likes of your father!”
Involuntarily, Little John reached out and put his hand around Robin’s upper arm, as if to hold him back, although Robin had not moved.
“I NEVER SAID…WILLINGLY!”
Everyone’s eyes grew round and their mouths dropped open. They felt as if their feet were rooted to the spot.
Guy pressed his lips together and paused for his last words to take effect before he added his final volley with a huge evil grin:
“THAT IS WHY SHE KILLED HERSELF AFTER YOU WERE BORN! AND, MORE’S THE PITY, SHE DID NOT HAVE SENSE ENOUGH TO DO IT BEFORE!”
Marion let out a small gasp and, covering her mouth, started to shake. All but Alan clenched their fists, waiting for a signal from Robin.
But Robin surprised them by pulling away from John. Robin turned, picking up his tunic, and walked into the forest. They stared at Guy for a moment then felt the anger drain out their bodies. With a bitter taste in their mouths, they disappeared into the trees, singly, except for Much, who trailed after John, his face covered in tears. Only Tuck remained. He sighed, glanced quizzically at Alan still crouched across the fire from him. Then he knelt. He crossed himself, laced his fingers, closed his eyes, and, with bent head, began to pray.
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Alan waited for a moment after Tuck started to silently pray, then rose and walked calmly over to Guy. He sat so that their upper sleeves were touching. Alan could feel that Guy had raised his temperature with his angry outburst. Staring into the trees, Alan said, “Feeling better?”
“Rather.” Guy looked at Tuck and noted that Alan could speak in a low voice and had, no doubt, barely moved his lips. Guy, as a child, had often thought that his father had been carrying on conversations with visiting friends that were not heard by others around them. As a solider, Guy, himself, had been trained to speak this way to avoid attracting attention from the enemy or giving away any secrets. And Alan was correct. Guy had now relaxed and his temper had subsided. He was known for his quick flashes of anger that, just as quickly, disappeared. The men under his command in Nottingham had known the signs and when to make themselves scarce.
“Well, I am happy that I have already changed my name to Dale.” He used the abbreviated version of his name - the same way Guy had used an abbreviated version of Robin’s name moments earlier.
Still eying Tuck, Guy answered in kind. “But you are still a Gisburne, brother.” Again Tuck didn’t move. Guy relaxed even more and started breathing evenly. “I wish he would have hit me.”
“Why?”
“I would have…”
“Robin is not you, brother.”
Frowning slightly, Guy said, “Too bad.” Oddly enough, Guy suddenly found himself thinking of the boy, Much. Why had he attacked him? There was no reason for it. Except that he did bring Robin into my life when he killed that deer. He shook his head slightly to clear his thoughts of Robin and turned them to Alan. He had long suspected that Alan was more than he appeared to be, but finding him with his most hated enemies had been a bit of shock. Still, he did help care for him from the very beginning and, now, had stayed with him when everyone else had left. I wonder how long...? Guy had begun to ask himself, when he realized that Alan had just said the very same thing aloud. “Hmm?”
“How long have you known?”
“What?”
“About Robin.” Where had Guy gone wandering? Alan thought, feeling a bit annoyed. Most likely, thinking about himself…as usual.
“Not very long. After we got back to Nottingham, the Sheriff was quite peevish. He had been that way since he had returned to camp. Then the outlaws escaped and it surely looked like the Hooded Man. He shot me. Eventually, Richard Fitzgilbert began to believe the rumours and we were both arrested after his meeting with King John. I was not there.”
“Poor Gisburne.”
“Shut up! Do want to hear this or not?”
“Sorry, it was getting off track. Go on.”
“I was not ‘getting off track’. I was pointing out that I did not know why I should be arrested. I was shot!”
“Aah, but not killed. Why should Robin spare you?”
Guy frowned. In all the time he had been alone, it was the one thing that had not occurred to him. “De Rainault was hanged, but I was just moved to another cell. Time passed. Dunno how long. In there you lose track of the days. At least Arthur was not there…”
“Arthur…?”
“Nevermind. Ask the boy. Finally, Fitzgilbert came to see me. Started asking questions about our father. Did not know what he was on about. Something about a treasure. He was not inclined to believe that I knew nothing. After a few months, he told me it had to do with my brother. So, I thought he was talking about you.”
“Depends on how many Gisburnes there are.”
“So far as I knew at the time, three.”
“Hmmm…”
“Finally, The Sheriff told me that the treasure was Robin i’ the Hood’s mother’s. Something about Wales.”
“You love Wales…”
Guy snorted, sighed, and resumed. “Robin Hood! My brother! What a disgrace! A wolfshead!”
“Still…you called for him.”
“Never!”
“’Tis true. Robin heard you.”
“I yelled ‘no’…Screamed his name in my mind. Not aloud. I was furious with him and it kept me from screaming at the pain. It was all his fault after all.”
“That would explain why you would not tell us who or where you were.”
“Why would I? I hate him. A common outlaw.”
“So, I have risen in stature?” Alan smiled and laughed silently. “I remember when my mother died and she told me why we had moved to France. And, me, realizing I had known you for years. She felt safe there, I would assume.”
“So you told me.”
“I do remember your face. You were almost as livid as Robin.”
“You are a bleeding musician!”
“Troubadour.”
“I hate you…”
“You hate everyone.”
“I try…”
Silence.
“I was tortured! Really, if I had known there was money to be had, even in Wales, would I be in Nottingham working for the sheriff, like a servant?”
Alan realized there was no answer for that and his brother was not expecting one. So, he changed the subject for the time being. If there were a treasure of some type in one of their father’s holdings, that would be between the two of them. Alan had already decided to distance himself from this whole affair, if it were possible.
“Guy?”
“Hmm?”
“Did you love your mother?”
“I adored her. Most likely why the Abbot Hugo gave me leave when I got word she was dying. I was glad to be with her at the end. Father was stiff and strict. But he was an excellent soldier. He did care for me, most especially when I went off to fight, in his footsteps. But mother was kind. Very gentle.”
“Did she know about our father’s, umm, hobby whilst away?”
“Most likely. But she would have forgiven him anything. She loved him. Women are odd. However, he loved her too. He always came home. She was at his bedside when he died and wept bitterly for days.”
“Was your sister allowed leave when your mother died?”
“No. More’s the pity. But when you take vows in the Church, you never leave the walls until you die. Why she took that type of vows, I shall never know. She was like Mother.”
Again, silence.
Guy glanced at Tuck, still in prayer. “I was in love once.”
“You looked in a mirror?”
There was a big sigh, with rolling of eyes, before Guy continued. “I was in love twice.” Alan smiled. Guy does have a sense of humour, he thought without interrupting Guy’s flow of words. “She was a Jewess. I was willing to give up everything for her. But she would have none of it. Claimed to be ‘promised’ to another.”
“A Jewess? You?”
“Hmm. Could have converted her.”
“Never.”
“Well, we shan’t find out. Robin interfered. I hate him.”
“Who are you trying to convince? Me or you?”
“You are writing a stupid ballad in your stupid head, Alan, whilst I am telling you of my lady love. You annoy me. But to be related to a wolfshead is positively unthinkable!”
“Could be worse.”
“How?”
“Could be Scarlet.”
“I hate you…”
Again, silence as Alan smiled and reminded himself that he had never found an ounce of humour in his brother, yet he had now heard two jokes in one hour.
“And he is pagan!” Guy said, interrupting Alan’s thoughts. “Herne the Hunter, Lord of the Trees, Keeper of Light and Darkness, indeed.”
Guy snorted.
“He is real.”
“Never! He is a man. I shot him.”
“Bad shot…”
“Still a man.”
“But he lives. And even if you had succeeded in killing him, there would have been another. He is possessed by Herne. I have seen Herne, himself. And heard him. He can speak to you inside your head.”
“Alan!”
“Oh, I know who the true God is. So, does the Friar there. He prays for them until the time he can use Robin to convert them to Christianity. You should have seen the look in Tuck’s eyes when he realized I speak Latin…” Alan smiled smugly.
“Robin is Christian?”
“Not now. But when the people regain England and put a proper king on the throne, Tuck is sure Robin will cross over. Herne will have no more use for him. And the people follow him. As far as I know, Herne could be working for God. Stranger things have happened. De Rainault saw snakes when he opened the Talmud.”
“I was there. I must say it was the strangest thing I have ever witnessed. However, in the end, I enjoyed seeing it.”
He’s off again. Better change the subject. “How many Gisburnes do you think there are, then?”
“Including my ‘little mistakes,’ as de Rainault used to call them?”
Alan smiled and mused to himself. “Wonder if I have any ‘little mistakes’?
“You two must look like your mothers.”
“Indeed. I've heard a description of our father and you do look just like him.”
“I am the lucky one.”
Alan scrunched his face. “A matter of opinion. And that would be three against one, now.”
“I am also growing tired of this. It is getting us nowhere.” Guy closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the tree. And they look a bit like mother. Father must have preferred dark-haired women. My sister looks a bit like them. Then, he shuddered at the last thought and decided to think of other things.
Alan sat in silence until he heard steady breathing, then he stood up. Guy is right, until Robin returns.
When Alan reached the fire, Tuck crossed himself and stood up. Looking straight into Alan’s eyes, he muttered, “Yes.” Then he turned and walked to the edge of the lake and stared into the water. He bent down and picked up a stone. Throwing it into the lake, he watched the small plop spread out into larger and larger circles. Life…he mused.
Alan knelt down, crossed himself, laced his fingers, and, bowing his head, placed his fingers against his lips, with his nose resting on top. What do I do now, God? Who do I listen to? Who do I follow?
Alan.
Alan started and, opening his eyes, looked at the friar, but Tuck was still staring at the water’s edge.
Alan?
He looked at Guy, but he was still sleeping peacefully. Alan squeezed his eyes shut and resumed his praying position.
Come.
Alan took a deep breath and crossed himself. Opening his eyes he found himself staring at Albion. Robin had left the sword behind and the fire danced on the blade. Pressing his lips together and shaking his head, Alan stood and walked into the trees. God be with me.
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