Heritage

Two blond men on a cliff, swordfighting. A group of people at the bottom of the cliff, watching them anxiously. A blindfolded man next to the two fighters, hands tied up on his back. And undetected by all of them a lot of about twenty soldiers in the colours of the Earl of Huntington and behind them, panting and puffing, the Earl himself. Within seconds, the soldiers pulled the blindfolded man aside, out of danger, away from the abyss of sharp stones and encircled the two combatants. When they finally noticed the presence of the soldiers, they turned around and lowered their swords. The younger, smaller one gave a sigh of relief. “Father!” he exclaimed, seemingly not so pleased like his initial sigh had sounded. The taller one, dressed in rags, snorted with rage and gave a snarl, seemingly inclined to make short work of everybody who dared to come any closer. “Robert, tell me, what is going on here!” the Earl demanded curtly. Meanwhile his men had freed Scarlett from the blindfold, with the result that he was trying to attack Gisburne, also snarling with rage. “Father, this,” the young man pointed to his opponent with his sword. “is Sir Guy of Gisburne, Nottinghams steward.” “Fine. And why are you two boys fighting?” the Earl inquired, sounding amused. Sir Guys aggressive snarl went deeper with every second. “I’d rather not tell.” Robert murmured. “Let me guess, you both are smitten with the same girl, hu?” the Earl guessed. This time Gisburne couldn’t stay silent. “Hell, no!” he snapped, rose his sword again and tried to continue where he was stopped, but a sharp bark from the Earl made him freeze. “Guy!! I reckon, you’ve been taught better than to attack an opponent that has already lowered his sword! Back!! Shame on you, boy!” “I’m not a boy to you!” Gisburne shouted angrily, casting murderous glares around. “And I have no time to listen to a lecture of a wolfsheads father, even if he’s an Earl or the King of England!!” With a fluent movement he attacked Robert of Huntington again, who had certainly expected him to do so. He intercepted the vicious blow and got ready for another hard fight, but within a split of a second a couple of soldiers grabbed Sir Guy, disarmed him easily and kept a tight grip on him, while Huntington picked up the sword and weighed it in his hand, a despising grin on his face. “Pathetic!” he stated, before he threw the sword over the cliff. “A cheap weapon. And talking about cheap… can’t de Rainault afford a decent wardrobe for his steward?” He plucked at Gisburnes ragged shirt, causing a wrince and a hiss, that earned the knight nothing but a black look. “I’ll concern with you later, boy.” Huntington decided. “But Robert, you still owe me an answer, don’t you?” The said one pushed Albion back into its scabbard and took a deep breath. “He dressed up as a leper.” He explained. “That may be… ummm… unusual.” The Earl had to admit. “But nothing atrocious or illegal. If he likes to play charades, why shouldn’t he?” Gisburne gave an exasperate sigh and tried to free his arms once more. “Stop putting on an act, my boy.” The Earl ordered him casually. “These are my men, they won’t let go of you until I order them to.” Gisburne stood still, submitting to the hard grips on his arms, but his pressed lips, and his eyes, blazing fire, told of his rage. “He dressed up as a leper to sneak into Croxden Abbey to steal their relic… a sacred cross. Probably his master, the Lord High Sheriff of Nottingham sent him.” This time the Earl gave a start, frowned and stared at his… first son. “Steal a relic?” he repeated in disbelief. “Well, Guy, explain this accusation to me!” he demanded. The knight tried to fold his arms haughtily in front of his chest, but the soldiers didn’t allow him to move. Instead of this, he threw his head back and wrinkled his little nose arrogantly. “I’m not answerable to an outlaws father!” he snorted. The joviality of the Earl vanished with every word the young man spoke He did a few steps to calm down again, took some deep breathes before he spoke in pretended courtesy. “Well, in this case you’re right, Sir Guy.” Confident of his victory, Gisburne smiled. “You’re certainly not answerable to an outlaws father.” He came closer to the young knight to look at his face… the face of his son. “But you’re damn sure answerable to your father, boy!” He alone saw the flash of fear in the opale eyes, helpless panic, reminiscence of something dreadful, as if the boy had looked into hell for the split of a second. But then it was gone, replaced with cool, distant malice that seemed to be much too old for this young man. “My father is dead, my lord.” He answered with a sneer. “And there you’re wrong, I feel quite alive.” The Earl snapped. “For I am your father!” Gisburnes eyes went dense. He stood there, motionless, like a statue of a knight, frozen in time, until a mad trembling shook his whole body. He opened his mouth, tried to speak, but he failed. He stared at his father, as if he had never seen a man before. The soldiers, seemingly touched by the boys obvious shock, loosened their grip a little bit, transformed it into a reassuring, steadying hold. But out of a sudden, Gisburne exploded into motion, breaking free, snatching a sword out of a soldiers scabbard, at the same moment swirling it through the air, lunging at the Earl. “You bastard!” he shrieked. “ Bastard!! I’ll kill you!” The Earl managed to jump back, making way for his men who overpowered Gisburne easily. Ten of them against one man, exhausted, but still with enough willpower to fight back, hissing and kicking out, snarling at them like a wild animal. The Earl gasped for air because of this assault. He had been sure that the boy, his son, wouldn’t threw himself into his arms, of course. But he had never expected this. “Tie this vicious beast up, he’s obviously absolutely out of his mind!” he ordered quietly. “It’s a lot to understand for him. Perhaps it’ll all be well later…” Will had followed this events, but when the Earl had finished his last sentence, he couldn’t hold back any more. “With Gisburne?” he snarled. “Not in a lifetime!” “We’ll take care of him, he’ll cool down after a while, it’s been too much for him.” Robert replied hastily and leads Will away. “And why is é your fathers son?” the angry man demanded. “Are you going to let ´im get away? You ´ad the perfect opportunity to finish that norman pig and you… ooh shit! You’re ´is brother!” “Half-brother, Will.” Robert corrected, while they climbed down the cliff, the cross safe in Roberts’s hands. “But that’s not the main reason why I didn’t kill him.” Will thought about it for a moment. “So why then?” he asked. “Because Guy of Gisburne isn’t the man he pretends to be.” “Did ´erne tell you this?” Scarlett scorned him but Robert didn’t answer.

On the other side of the hill, the soldiers had a hell of a time to pull and drag Gisburne down to where the horses waited. The young man was still resisting, although he had been tied up securely and he still shouted insults and threats, kicking out like a mule and throwing his upper body from side to side. The soldiers grew tempted to smack some sense into the boy’s head. But after two or three blows, Huntington stopped them. “Good Gracious, leave the kid alone, don’t hurt him! He’ll break his neck if he falls.” “None of your business, traitor!!” Gisburne yelled and fought even more. “Well, lad, as soon as you’re down there, you’re in for something!” a soldier hissed and glared at him. Gisburne took the opportunity to headbutt him, pulling the second soldier with him. The man stumbled, fell and so did Gisburne. But while the soldiers were able to stop their downfall with both hands and feet, Sir Guy flew down the hill from rock to rock, like a rag doll. After a couple of yards the soldiers got a grip on him and pulled him to his feet. He was bleeding heavily from a cut over his left ear, his face was bruised and blood dripped from his split lower lip. This time he didn’t show any resistance when his father’s men steadied him and led him towards the group of horses. “Look after him.” The Earl ordered. “See, if he’s seriously injured and bandage him if necessary. Don’t open his restraints, he is dangerous.” “There you’re right, bastard traitor and as soon as I get free of this scum, I’ll kill you!” Gisburne hissed and added with a malicious grin: „Slowly!”

“But I don’t understand that, Robin!” Will fumed. “Why do you want to go? Because of ´im? Because of this norman pig? Is Gisburne worth that much?” “It’s not only because of Gisburne.” Robert told him. “Although I feel a kind of contempt for him, too. But I… I want to help my father… he… he is desperate, because I’ve joined you. He needs an heir.” He went silent for a moment. “And Gisburne is trained… I mean… he knows what to do… better than I could ever do… he is perfect. I know, he’s a rather perfect idiot, too, but nevertheless he’ll do, if we can persuade him somehow.” “Persuade?!?” Will roared. “ ´E won’t need much persuasion to accept being the heir of such a powerful man!” “No, Will.” Marian whispered. “Of course he would like to be an Earls heir, but methinks he’ll try to murder this special Earl… the man who made his mother a whore in is stupid little opinion.” “His mother was a good woman.” Tuck spoke thoughtfully. “But of course he was too young to understand.” “Ummm… when did he leave home?” John asked. “I reckon he must’ve been twelve or thirteen… went straight to war and came back the monster we all know. “ Much stared at them, agape. “He went to war, when he was a child?” he asked in disbelief. “But why?” “Oh, it’s quite usual… poor knights sent their sons away as soon as possible.” Robert answered. “That way they wouldn’t have to feed any useless mouth… not to speak about weapons and armours and horses they would need.” Much shuddered. “He must’ve been afraid… I’m glad that my father was not a knight but a miller.” He said. Marian sighed. “And now you’re going back to Huntington?” she asked. “They’ll kill you… the Sheriffs men.” “I won’t go.” Robert decided abruptly. All Merries stared at him puzzled. “Marian’s right.” He admitted. “I can’t go. First, the Sheriff will find me. Second, my place is here. In Sherwood. To serve Herne and to be his son, to help the people in Sherwood.” He paused again. “But I think somebody should accompany my father… and Guy. To bring things back to normal. Will?” The surly face stared at him for a long, long time. “What?” he rasped. “Want me to look after your beloved brother?” “Yes.” “Why me? You know I ´ate ´is guts!” “That’s why, Will. See, because you hate him, you’ll be the most vigilant guardian there ever could be. You’ll find out what he thinks… if he is trying to trick my father. He won’t trick you at least.” “And ´ow shall I travel with this… thing?” Will spat in disgust. “In a soldiers wardrobe, of course. But please… don’t harm him if it is not really necessary. I know, you’re angry with him, but what is happening here now is for once not Gisburnes fault. He is innocent… this time.” “Dressing up as a leper and ´e ´s innocent!!” “Patience, Will. You’ll find out in good time. But come on, let’s go to join them. And swiftly he ran off, around the hill. When he arrived there, Gisburne was still kept in check by two soldiers, fighting back weakly and shouting insults. A third one backhanded him casually and he was forced onto his knees. “Father, no!” Robert shouted. “Don’t let them do this!” “Stop it at once!” the Earl barked. “Stop hitting him, goddamn it! He’s just a boy!” When both Huntington’s approached the knight they saw blood on his face and blue eyes blazing fire. He spitted blood at his father and cursed him again. The Earl of Huntington took a step back. “That’s certainly not the behaviour I am expecting of my son.” He hissed. “I’m very angry with you, my boy. But as Robert, your brother, told me, the Sheriff of Nottingham, this petty little man commands you.” Gisburne growled deep in his throat, a beastlike, inhuman sound and tried to attack the Earl once more. The old man sighed. “Let him stand.” he ordered. “Perhaps you’ll calm down Guy, when you stand upright. And tend to his wounds. We’re going to Nottingham. My steed!! And two more for my sons!!” “I am not your son!!” Gisburne coughed. “And he is not my brother, this saxon cur! Set me free, goddamn it!” “He stays bound.” the Earl commanded. “And gag him, before he gets me really angry.” “Father, I can’t go to Nottingham.” Robert said quietly, while they were walking away from the raging knight. “Not even with you. The law is on de Rainaults side, I am an outlaw.” “First of all you are my son! Like he is! And I reckon both of you have to learn to obey your father.” “Not even you can protect me when the Sheriff arrests me… and he will! And he will arrest you too, he is only waiting for a pretext to get hold of you… and thereby of your land!” “But…” the Earl sighed. “I’ll sent my best man with you.” Robert interrupted hastily. “He’ll dress up as one of your guards and take care of Gisburne.” Suddenly the Earl snatched Roberts’s shoulder and pulled him around, hard. “Don’t you say this wicked name once again!” he gritted. “Never call him that again in my presence! He’s your brother! And I expect you to treat him like that! And don’t call him Gisburne! His name is Huntington!” “He does not react to this name!” Robert fumed back. “And if you ask me for my opinion, he never will. If you want him to listen to you, you’ll have to call him Gisburne!” “I never will! He is my son, he is my seed and I’m not going to give him another mans name!” the Earl paused. “This man of yours.. you said, he will take care of your brother. Does he know him?” “Like the back of his hand.” “Can he probably talk him into listening?”--- Robert bursted out laughing. “I doubt that.” he coughed. “Beat him into obedience, perhaps, but well, I reckon that he’ll…”

A shout and the sound of a horse, prancing and shying turned both men’s attention back to the guards. Somehow they had managed to put Sir Guy on a large, bay stallion, but obviously something went wrong, the horse kept rearing up and lashing out in all directions, Gisburne tied up on it and unable to control the animal and thereby in danger of being thrown and trampled on. Or, even worse, the horse could fell and bury him under its weight. “Get the reins, you idiots!” the Earl shouted and ran towards the group of men. “´E won’t let us!” a soldier shouted back and when they came nearer they understood that he didn’t mean the bay. “This goddamn fool!” Will rasped, blood trickling down from his nose. “What has happened?” “That bastard kicked me!” he snapped. “And now ´e ´s kicking the horse!” Gisburne really dug his heels into the animal over and over again, trying to escape on it, but the stallion, a sensitive and well-trained horse wasn’t used to such a harsh treatment. Furthermore the circle of men was so close that it would have trampled on somebody if it had obeyed and there was no way the gently bay would do so. Gisburne cursed the horse and went on, making it impossible for the men around him to get a grip on either him or the stallions reins. “Stop it, boy!” the Earl barked at once. The knight spat at him, sneering and urged the horse forward again. “That’s it, I’ll have you whipped, Guy!” the Earl shouted, outraged. “So what?” Gisburne roared back, kicked the stallion with all his might and finally made it rear up higher than ever before, he fell and the horse shied away, fortunately not stepping on the helpless man. A soldier managed to catch the reins and led the trembling, sweating stallion away. Two others hauled Gisburne to his feet to face their lord. The knight was gasping for breath, he had fallen hard, bruising his ribcage. “No, father, no!” Robert shouted, when the Earl approached Gisburne with a definite intention. “So why the hell not? Should I let him spit at me?” he fumed. “He has gone too far!” “Well, I know!” Robert barked back. “But what did you expect him to do?” Gisburnes head fell forward, and he coughed, obviously in more pain than he would admit. Cautiously, Huntington stopped. “Father, I guess, he has been beaten enough and to spare in his life. It’s no use to continue what he already knows. Punish him by other means.” The Earl lowered his head and considered it for a while. “Allright.” he agreed. “Gag him at once. Then tie him to a rope and lead him. Since he is apparently not willing to ride to Nottingham, he’ll have to walk.“ The Merries as well as Huntington’s men could barely hide their smiles. It was about ten miles to Nottingham, much too far for Gisburne to walk. He was exhausted, cold, bruised all over, tied up and gagged. Huntington turned around to his first – or second? – son, a broad smile on his face. “Two or three miles.” he murmured. “Then he’ll collapse.” “Sure father.” Robert admitted, also grinning. “This stubborn lout… but he has guts, hasn’t he?” the Earl boasted abruptly. “Riding a horse without reins is stupid, not couragious.” Robert replied and raked a hand through his long, fair hair, staring thoughtfully at his half-brother. “And that’s the problem…”

Will took the end of the rope and tied it firmly to his saddle. “Ready for a walk, Gisburne?” he mocked him and earned a murderous glare for this. “So come on, boy, come on.” He urged the horse to a slow trot, the rope tightened and pulled the knight abruptly forwards. Gisburne staggered and nearly fell, but managed it somehow to keep his balance and follow the horse. Scarlett let the horse fall into an industrious walk, a pace the knight could do easily, due to his tallness, but he was already tired and hurt, it would wear him out after a short while. During the first mile, he even tried to pull back, to resist, but of course these attempts were pathetic and nobody paid any attention. So when they continued their journey, Gisburne walked, meek as a lamb, head lowered, concentrating on his way. When he grew slower and stumbled more often, the Earl let the party stop, rode beneath the knight and circled round him some times. The young man stood still, breathing harshly, looking down, a downright wretched figure in the dirty rags he wore, but his eyes still held a deadly fire. Huntington smiled and patted the fair, short hair briefly, but at once Gisburne stepped aside, eyes narrowed and full of hatred, tearing uselessly at his restraints. The Earl shook his head, amused. “As you please, my boy, as you please.. Forward!” After two more miles, Sir Guy fell for the first time. At once Will urged the horse into a canter, dragging the young knight a couple of yards over the stony ground. When he stopped, he pulled him to his feet again. Now Gisburne was trembling, and apparently he took his weight off the right leg. When the Earl approached him his time, he gave a little sound and tried to step back, seemingly afraid of the man. Patiently, Huntington made his horse walk beneath the knight once more. Gisburne backed up, until his back touched another horse and now he was “caught”. He sighed, prepared to endure the touch of this hated man but Huntington didn’t. He pulled at the reins and his horse stepped back, giving room to the knight. “It’s allright, boy.” Was there a trace of contempt in his voice? “I won’t force you. Guards! Get him on a horse, it’s enough!” Gisburne was sat on an old nag that wasn’t suspected to do anything like moving voluntarily, but he was too tired to care. At least he didn’t have to walk anymore.

“Where might this wretched Gisburne be?” Angrily de Rainault paced up and down the hall. “What is taking him so long? Damn him, he wouldn’t dare to keep the cross for himself, would he?” A guard rushed into the hall and bowed hastily. “My lord Sheriff, the Earl of Huntington has entered the yard already with his men and…” “The Earl of Hunt… but I… he didn’t announce his visit, did he?” “No, my lord but he… “ “Shut up, man! And you, serfs, bring food and wine! Captain! Since Sir Guy isn’t here, you’ll welcome the Earl!”

While this frantic action started, the Earl of Huntington stepped in, accompanied by two guards and at once Robert de Rainault displayed a winning smile. “My dear Earl… it’s a pleasure to welcome you in Nottingham castle.” He stepped down from the dais to embrace the Earl, but the mans frowned face made him stop. “I must admit that the reason for my visit isn’t that pleasurable.” He replied curly. “So… what is it, my lord?” “This wretched, insolent thing you call a steward!” De Rainaults face fell. “Oh no… him again!!” he groaned. “He is the most ill-bred, insolent young man I ever met!” Huntington continued. “I caught him swordfighting and asked him to stop as his opponent did. But when both had lowered their swords, he tried an ambush! I had my guards overpower him, he started to shout blasphemies and curses… at me!… and after all, he spat at me! What do you have to say to this?” The Sheriff swallowed hard. What the hell had gotten into Gisburne? Even he wasn’t that stupid to treat an Earl like a serf. “My lord, I’ll have him punished, severely punished!” he promised hastily. “When he returns, he’ll be brought straight into the dungeon!” “Bah, dungeon!” the Earl hissed. “And I’ll have him whipped, of course.” De Rainault offered. “Whipped?” Seemingly the powerful Earl calmed down, he even accepted a goblet of wine to sip at. “Why don’t you rack him?” he suggested. “Rack him?” de Rainault asked puzzled. “I shall rack him?” “Would this cause a problem to you? Perhaps there are other… instruments in your dungeon, too?” Well, Gisburnes health – or even his life - for the benevolence of one of the most powerful men in England, that seemed to be a bargain. “Perhaps even I haven’t seen his obvious… wickedness until now, my lord.” the Sheriff admitted cautiously. “But please tell me what you had in mind for him and I’ll see that he receives an appropriate punishment as you see fits.” The Earl smiled. “My lord Sheriff, I’m not as… familiar… with those things like you are.” he replied. “What would you do to a young man of barely no… qualities at all who dares to insult, humiliate and even attack a man like me?” “I’d take his life.” De Rainault answered without thinking. “And I’d take it slowly, inch by inch.” Huntington’s smile became a broad grin. “I thought so.” He declared. “Bring him in!” Gisburne who had been kept outside the door had overheard every word of the two men’s conversation, so he knew that there’d be no mercy, no lenience at all, when the wolfshead and another guard pushed him inside, towards his master and his – father. De Rainault glared at him, but the young knight also recognised the fear in the older mans eyes. “Furthermore!” Huntington continued. “ I didn’t tell you what he did, before I caught him, did I?” The Sheriff refilled his goblet and emptied it in instants, reminding Guy of his own thirst. “Do you know what the sacred relic of St. Ciricus is? It’s in Croxden Abbey.” De Rainault swallowed his wine the wrong way and coughed. “Well, I guess, it is a cross, isn’t it?” the Sheriff asked innocently. “Yes, it is.” the Earl replied with a grim smile. “And this boy – your steward – stole it. To steal a relic… that is the most outrageous, blasphemic sin I’ve ever heard of.” De Rainaults eyes bulged out of their pits. “I’ll have him flogged to death, my lord!” he croaked. “And his tongue removed first of all, methinks.“ the Earl pondered. Gisburne gave a small whimper, apparently trying to justify his deed and tried to break free. “Stop it, Gisburne!” de Rainault roared and the voice of his master made Gisburne flinch and stop his frantic struggle. “Kneel!” Sir Guy stared at him, eyes wide opened. “Down on your knees, goddamn it!! Stubborn, headstrong dog!” By force of habit, the knight tried to obey, but a strong grip held him upright. Will grinned disdainfully and shook his head. “Because,” the Earl continued. “if you don’t cut his tongue off, he could perhaps talk. He could give away that you ordered him to steal the cross, my lord Sheriff!!!” De Rainault jumped to his feet and threw his goblet away. “He is lying! He’s a goddamn liar! This bastard would say anything to save his neck!” “He told me nothing!!” Huntington shouted back. “The boy did not speak a single word except of curses and blasphemies! He didn’t betray you!” He paused. “His brother told me.” “Rubbish! He has no brother!” “Well, not quite a brother… his half-brother.” Huntington admitted, smirking. “And by the way: he is not bastard born. Guy is a legitimate child… of Lady Margaret of Huntington and of me.” “But…” “No buts! Guy, come here!” The knight threw his head back in refusal. “Nobody will whip or rack you or do you any harm.” Will pushed the knight forward and led him to his father’s side. Anxiously the young man looked up to his master, his eyes pleading for help, but obviously, de Rainault was desperately in need of help himself. He was white as a sheet, not knowing what Huntington intended to do now. “We’ll stay in Nottingham for the night.” The Earl decided. “Since my son… unfortunately is a little bit… puzzled and obviously more than afraid of you, I want a safe room for him, fitting an Earls son and of course decent clothes, food and drink for him and some of my guards.” Huntington regarded the young man a his side with a wry smile. “And I reckon he’s desperately in need of a hot bath.” With an encouraging smile he patted the boys shoulder and thereby made him shy away. “Hush, Guy.” he whispered soothingly. “I’ll take the gag out, allright?” Gisburne stood still and lowered his head to allow the smaller man easier access to the gag. “But behave yourself, boy!” Huntington warned him, before he released him of the gag, causing a relieved sigh. Dried blood stained on Gisburnes lips and he looked really worn out. “Off with the boy.” Huntington ordered casually. “See that he is looked after. And you, de Rainault, we have some business to settle now, haven’t we?”

The room they led Guy to was really noble.. Serfs were scurrying to and fro with buckets of hot water, preparing the bath for Guy. Scarlett snorted and pushed the knight into a corner, forcing him on the floor. “Take a good advice, Gisburne, stay down!” he hissed and started to pace the room restlessly. “I should kill you, Gisburne!” he rasped. “Kill you with my bare ´ands!” He slapped the boys bowed neck not as hard as he had intended to, but nevertheless Gisburne retreated further into his corner, sighing softly, too weary even to snarl back. “D´you know ´ow it feels to be a leper? Eh?” Scarlett fumed and stomped back to Gisburne, who flinched back again. Disdainfully, Will waved off, regarding the knight’s right ankle. It seemed to be swollen, probably sprained. Other serfs brought in trays with food, roasted meat, pork and beef, cheese, grapevines, apples, bread and wine, enough to feed a family for a week. Murmuring under his breath, Will helped himself to a hearty dinner, while he watched the boy, huddled into the corner, occasionally looking up for a yearning glance to the abundant meal. “Later, Gisburne.” he promised, grinning. “Perhaps… if you behave.” He laughed again. “I really should let you ´ave some of it… regarding that we stole your lunch… poor boy. But first you father wants you to be reasonably clean.” The serfs had finished their tasks and left, bowing. Scarlett had finished his meal, too and grabbed Gisburnes hair to haul him to his feet. “So what shall I do with you now, Gisburne?” he mused aloud. “Cut your bounds or cut your throat?” He cut the ropes but put his dagger to Gisburnes throat at once. “I reckon, you’re old enough to bathe on your own, aren’t you?” he hissed, grinning. But his smile faded soon. “Undress, Gisburne!” he commanded him. At once Sir Guy held his breath and stiffened. Scarlett sighed. “Oh c ´mon, don ´t be shy, I won’t look!” he mocked the knight. Slowly Gisburne obeyed, revealing a sickeningly scarred body. Scarlett frowned and raised his free hand to touch an extraordinarily deep scar across Gisburnes left last rib. Immediately the young man flinched back, not caring about the knife anymore. “Well, get into the bath, boy.” The outlaw hissed, angry about the sudden feeling of contempt he had felt for an instant. With Sir Guy being too slow for Scarletts taste, he pushed him into the bathtub. Gasping for breath, Gisburne tried to get out of out again, obviously in panic. The hot water had to be unpleasant to say the least. “Ah, you don’t like water… at least in my presence.” Scarlett sneered and gripped the short blond hair again, pulling the knights back against the tube to put the dagger to his throat again. “But you’ll ´ave to get used to it, Gisburne. I ´ope you know what you’re to do in a bathtub, for I ´ave no intention to wash you of all men!” Some of Gisburnes spirit obviously reappeared. “And I won’t let you, wolfshead!” he growled back, earning a blow for this. Resigned he began to do what he was told, but the hot water made him feel how tired and hungry he was after all. When his movements ceased, Will relaxed a little bit and fetched a towel. “Allright, get out.” he ordered him, much softer than before. “Nooo… not yet… “the young knight complained sleepily. “Oh yes. I don’t want you to fall asleep in a tube of ´ot water!” Will snapped. “And you ´ave to eat!” The promise of food finally got Gisburne out of the bath. Scarlett wrapped him up in a towel, like a child, for he was obviously much too tired to rub himself dry. He tied his hands up in front of him and pushed him down onto a chair. Since he wouldn’t give him a knife, he cut the food into pieces, small enough for Gisburne to handle. Nevertheless, the knight wolfed it down in minutes, accompanied by some goblets of wine and this got him even sleepier. His constant yawning started to get on Wills nerves. “Let’s see, ´ow I can tie you up for the night… ah well, that’ll do.” He forced the knight to the bed and tied both of his hands to a bedpost, leniently the one in front of him. But then he made a noose and put it loosely around Gisburnes neck, tying the other end to the bedpost behind him. “You can move a little that way, but you certainly can’t chew on the ropes.” he said satisfied and threw a blanket over the tall body, before he made himself a lair with several blankets on the floor. Hearing Gisburne breathe softly and regularly, Will decided that the knight was sound asleep and probably wouldn’t cause any trouble for some hours. So he tried to get some sleep himself and fell into a light doze after a while.

Meanwhile the Cross of St. Ciricus had been brought back safely by the outlaws, much to the delight of the Abbot. Although they were asked to stay for the night, they refused and went back into Sherwood. Much had been very quiet all the time. After some miles he came closer to Robert. “Where’s Will?” he asked shyly. “Will he come back?” “Oh yes, of course he will.” Robert soothed him. “He is just helping my father to get Gisburne to Huntington in one piece.” “Why should he do that? He hates Gisburne! We all do!” Much protested. “Because it is necessary.” The blond man answered wearily. Then, suddenly an idea crossed his mind. “Guy the gamekeeper caused us a lot of trouble, didn’t he?” he asked cheerily. “So Will is getting him out of our way.” Much stared at him for a while, before a broad smile crept to his face. “Ah, yes, now I understand.” he replied happily and slapped his forehead. “Stupid me!”

”Well, de Rainault, explain it to me once again, I’m not quite sure that I’ve understood this!” Huntington snarled. “So your brother passed the boy to you… and you used him for a steward and a whipping boy if my informers right.” The Sheriff tried to think of an suitable answer, but the Earl continued, highly enraged. “Easy, isn’t it? A young man, nearly a boy, coming straight from the wars in Europe, owning nothing but a horse, a sword and an armour, landless, powerless, without relatives, without anybody to protect and guide him, nothing more than a serf to you and your noble brother, eh? But there you’ve made a mistake, Sheriff, he has a father of some influence, oh yes. Do you know how I’d ´ve liked to find my son? Well, I’ll tell you. I would have liked to find a young, well-mannered knight, kind and caring with the peasants, a fair fighter, straightforward, loyal, perhaps a hotspur like all boys tend to be but in general a son to be proud of. Instead of this I found a malicious, vile, incalculable, deceitful, abused, ferocious beast, obviously more of an animal than of mankind! And that’s what you made him!” “I did my best to control him!” de Rainault tried to argue, but this statement made Huntington burst out in fury.

“ You’ve tried to control him?” he fumed. “So how did you do that? With spurs and a bit? Or with a collar and a leash? Idiot!” He threw the goblet with wine in the direction of the Sheriff. “You goddamn idiot. But well, apparently I have nobody else to question about my son but a brainless, smug scarecrow! So tell me, Sheriff, if you noticed it, what does Guy like? What company, what distractions, what food… “ “He is just a common knight, what should he like?” De Rainault barked back. “Tournaments, horses, armours and some such stuff! And he eats anything!” “Probably he could never choose his food.” The Earl pondered. “Well, that`ll change.” he decided.

The Sheriff took another long swig of his wine. “And how are you planning to do that?” he asked, doing little to hide his disdain for the young knight they were talking about. “I´ve guided him through all those years, I gave him the opportunity to learn and to form his character and what did he do? Whoring around with some peasant sluts, playing hide-and-seek with your other son, cheating, lying, stealing... and you think you can change him? Face it, man, he is sheer malice.” He emptied his goblet in instants.

“And by the way, he is my steward, I spent lots of time and money for his training, and I am not willing to let him go that easy. He owes me, you know. And all the time I waited patiently for the day he´d pay his debts. But unfortunately the day hadn´t come yet. So...”

“Oh shut up, you godforsaken, bloodsucking scum!!” Huntington shouted back. “Are you trying to tell me, you want money?? From the boy??? What did you pay him for being in your service for so long, getting nearly killed, being forced to humiliate himself, being forced to commit atrocious acts in your services, like the massacre to the jews in Nottingham and don´t try to tell me it was the rabble in the streets crying for blood! It was you, de Rainault, with him as your willing tool! So who owes whom?”
”I have it all written down!” de Rainault countered calmly. “By yourself I suppose! And that´s not enough. I don´t trust you, Nottingham!!” “But the law is on my side.” de Rainault answered with a sly smile. “Like it always is. But I am a reasonable man, Huntington, very reasonable and I suppose I can make you an offer you´ll find very reasonable, too...”

In the meantime, Gisburne was sleeping badly. He moaned and whimpered, tossing and turning his head to and fro, obviously caught in a nightmare. Will awoke by this and stared angrily to the bed where Gisburne was fighting his personal demons. “Shut the hell up, Gisburne!” he growled. “Go to sleep, idiot!” The body under the blankets reared up desperately and tore at the ropes, whimpering helplessly. Sighing and groaning, Will got up, seeking for an excuse to beat the living daylights out of his mortal enemy. But when he lighted a candle he found the young man crying in his sleep, shaking with an unknown terror or sorrow. “Gisburne. Hey, Gisburne, wake up!” he demanded angrily. Blue eyes, filled with tears, opened and gazed at him without understanding. “You were having a nightmare.” Will explained curtly and returned to his lair , angry about Gisburne, angry about his own weakness not to take his revenge now, just because of some tears on a sleeping mans face. When he put the candle back on the table he heard a quiet little sniff from the bed, followed by nothing but silence. Not even a breath was heard, so he assumed that Gisburne was afraid to attract his attention. Good. At least Gisburne knew how it should be. Satisfied, Will laid down again and went back to sleep.

The next morning, the Earl of Huntington and the Sheriff of Nottingham slept longer. They had been arguing nearly until cock-crow, so they were sleeping soundly, when Will awoke. He dressed up as a soldier and ordered a meal for him and his captive. With a disdainful look to the sleeping knight, he decided that Gisburnes breakfast could wait. He left the room for a short walk to the castles yard and tried to memorize a possible way to escape, in case he needed it. When he returned half an hour later, Gisburne was awake and the ordered meal has been put neatly on the table. Will sat down and started to eat. He really wasn´t hungry, but he didn´t trust de Rainaults hospitality, so he tried to eat something. This would end sooner or later and when it would end, he would need all the strenght he could gather now. After a while Gisburne, who had simply glared at him for a while started to move restlessly. “What´s up now, you norman pig?” Will snarled, still angry because of the nightmare. “Open the ropes you saxon scum!!” Gisburne hissed back disdainfully. “And why the ´ell should I do that, Gisburne?” Will asked scornfully. “Because...” Gisburnes voice trailed off and he blushed slightly, a peculiar sight, seeing Gisburne blush. “Because of what?” Will asked amused. “Because you´re a norman knight or why?” The knight didn´t look up again, but after a while he began softly pulling on the ropes again. Appearantly he was in a minor discomfort and couldn´t help himself with it. Will came closer to see what was the problem with the man. The ropes were tight, all right. Gisburne couldn´t get out of them, but they surely didn´t hurt that much. Will took a deep breath and snorted angrily. “So what´s the matter with you?” he asked, trying to sound a little less menacing. “I need to...” Gisburne didn´t end his sentence, but his look was almost desperate, when he looked up to the outlaw. “You need..?” Will frowned, thinking heavily. What was the problem? What did he miss, Gisburne got food, water, sleep... oh, that was it. Will laughed in relief. “Oh that´s it, you need to go outside!” Gisburne stared at him, halfway embarassed, halfway reliefed. With a smug grin, Will released him, but pulled his sword out and nudged Gisburne carefully with it. “Well, then go.” he allowed him. “But I´ll go with you, boy and don´t try to do anything funny, allright?” Gisburne made a face and thought about it for a second. But then he sighed and went out of the room, followed by Will.

Meekly he passed the hall where several spilled cups of wine told of a long night for the Sheriff and the servants of course, too and entered the yard. He looked around, no guards in sight and the outlaw in his back would get suspicious even more than he was already now, if he didn´t move it. Thereby he strolled on to the stables...

Robert de Rainault, High Sheriff of Nottingham awoke with a severe hangover. His head hurt like a bunch of horses had trampled on it in his sleep and he groaned. When he remembered yesterdays happening, he groaned even more miserably. This goddamn Gisburne! Why didn´t he execute him years before... or even better... never took him into his services! He snapped his fingers, when a servant entered the room.
”Where is Lord Huntington?” he croaked. “And where´s Gisburne?”

“My lord Sheriff, the Lord of Huntington is still asleep and so is Sir Guy.” the servant answered shyly. “Good.” At least the both of them couldn´t cause trouble right now.

“Tell me immediately when they´re awake.” he ordered sharply. “It has the highest priority to me, understood this?” “Aye, my lord Sheriff.” The serf bowed and left him to his abundand breakfast, glad that he had escaped the obviously moody Sheriff for this time,

Sir Guy meanwhile wasn´t that lucky. Will was as vigilant as a bloodhound, never left his side for a moment. Suddenly the young knight turned around, his eyes blazing fire. “Would you leave me the hell alone, wolfshead?” he hissed. With a mean smile, Will shook his head. “Wolfshead...” Gisburnes words were hard as steel, but so was Wills face. “God´s Throat, leave me the hell alone!” Gisburne shouted. When he saw no particular result of his angriness, he sighed softly and added:” Please...”

Well, this worked. The wolfsheads face suddenly bore an air of contempt. “If you´re not back in a minute...” He didn´t need to finish his threat. Gisburne nodded eagerly and went around a corner, appearantly to relieve himself. When he knew that the wolfshead

and his sword were out of reach, he crawled on the roof of the stable. Fury gave him a wary look and snorted. “Ksshht!” Gisburne hissed and crawled further. From the roof of the stable he could reach the castle walls and didn´t waste a second. He ducked, jumped and dug his fingers desperately into the rough material, not caring about his aching, raw hands. Cautiously he took a step further towards the window of the Sheriffs room.

Said Sheriff was already occupied with dressing up. He had an important guest and an important talk ahead of him. Both could be worth a fortune. Thinking of the Earls richdom, he whistled joyfully. After all, Gisburne turned out to be worth something...

His valuable possession was coming closer to the window, just a few more steps and...
”Gisburne!! Damn bastard norman scum!!!” Oh dear! The wolfshead! He had detected him, howling with rage, perhaps even aiming at him already. With a desperate jump, Sir Guy made it to the window and clinged to the railing like a limpet. With a great amount of willpower he dragged himself into the Sheriffs room, falling to the floor, coughing and panting hard. The Sheriff jumped up as if he had been stung by an adder. “Gisburne!?!” he gasped. His steward fought to get back on his feet and take a decent appearance. “My lord.”

“Gisburne, what the hell are you doing here?” de Rainault asked, barely hiding his anger. Goddamn it, did the boy have to mess up anything? Obviously Gisburne did not understand. “My lord?” “Why did you escape, Gisburne? You have been left in good hands!” “ Good hands??? Good hands? I was left in the hands of this wolfshead, this one Scathlocke and that´s what you call “good hands” ?” the knight fumed. “I was abducted, humiliated and all you say is:” You were in good hands.” ?!?”

De Rainault whipped around. This thing was getting more and more out of control. “Guards!!” he yelled. “Guards!!” Two of de Rainaults soldiers stomped in, their swords drawn. “My lord Sheriff?” He pointed towards his steward. “Sir Guy... arrest him at once!!”

Gisburne stared at him in shock. “But... but my lord!?!” was the only thing he managed to say before the soldiers grabbed him and tied him up that mercilessly that his wrists started to bleed in instants. “Let go of me! Idiots!!” he yelled a second later. “There are wolfsheads in the castle!!” “Don´t listen to him, guards, he´s distressed!” de Rainault shouted. “Bring him back into his chamber, he is not to leave it without my explicit permission!” “Let go of me! There are wolfsheads, goddamn it! Morons! Idiots!! Stupid saxon peasants!! Damn bastards!!!” Gisburne fought back like an animal, tried to free himself, but caused only more harm to his already torn wrists. De Rainault bore a superior, overbearing smile.

Obviously Gisburne found his speech back. “No, my lord, you can`t!” he pleaded, still trying to get free. “I have important news, the wolfshead...” “Shut up, Gisburne!” de Rainault shouted, his patience at its limits. “Shut the hell up!” Desperately, the young knight tried to explain, but it was no use, the guards dragged him – a little rougher than they had to - back to his room, threw him in , tied up as he was and literally to the feet of a raging Will Scarlett. Gisburne didn´t waste a second, he curled up at once and prepared himself for a heavy beating. And man, was he right to do so, because he got one, until Scarletts red-hot rage cooled down and he stopped to look at his handiwork. Gisburne was huddled into a miserable ball, his breathing ragged and harsh. He obviously was in pain, to Scarletts great delight. He snatched he collar of Gisburnes shirt and hauled him to his feet. “Get up you bastard!” he snarled and held the staggering knight upright. “Try this again an´ I kill you, Gisburne!!” Weakly, the boy tried to free himself from the iron grip. “Let go of me, wolfshead!” he hissed back. “No way! I won´t let you run around again.” Scarlett snorted. “This has been the first and the last time I´ve ever shown you mercy...” he swore and pushed the knight to the floor again. When he was just about to land another vicious kick, the door swung open and Huntington entered the room, looking at the two men bewildered. Then he knelt down beneath Gisburne, who flinched back immediately, afraid of being hit by this man, too. “Hush boy.” the Earl murmured and stroke the golden hair for an instant. “I know you´re afraid, son.” He rose slowly, positioning himself carefully between Scarlett and his victim, staring at the outlaw for a long long time. Scarlett glared back defiantly. “Was this necessary?” the Earl asked. “Or merely your kind of revenge?” While Will was searching for a suitable answer, Huntington continued: “Whatever might have overcome you, make sure that it doesn´t happen again. If I want my son beaten or otherwise punished, I´ll do it myself or at least give the explicit order to do so. But first of all, I want him to get a little more confident if this is possible.” He cut the ropes that held Guys wrists and frowned, when he saw the bloody marks they had left. “The Sheriffs men.” Scarlett pointed out. “That´s not the treatment I would recommend for an Earls son, is it?” the Earl asked innocently. “De Rainault will have a lot to explain now.”

Gisburne hadn´t listened to them at all. He was occupied with trying to breathe and not to whimper with pain. For the wolfshead had hit him bloody damn hard to be honest. But at least somebody freed his hands now, now he could use them to cover his ribs and stomach against further blows, that would soon follow. He tried to be very quiet. If he was quiet, they´d probably think that he had passed out and might not hit him anymore. Of course, the wolfshead couldn´t even spell the word “pity”, but even he should know, that it was no use flogging a dead horse. Or beating an unconscious knight, that is. But now the Earl of Huntington, the bastard who claimed stubbornly to be his father, tried to help him to stand up. Didn´t this goddamn moron know that it was much safer for him to stay out of this? The outlaw might kill him, too. Gisburne tried to say something, but all he uttered was a pitiful whimper. “No, don´t be afraid, it´s over.” the white-haired man whispered to him. “Nobody will harm you, you´re safe.”

//Idiot! Fool!! He´ll kill you, too, if you try to help me! Run away, run... //

Suddenly, the young knight tried to get up.His legs weren´t working properly, they were weak and trembling and so he collapsed to the floor again, but tried nearly instantly to get up again, determined to get to his feet, before the wolfshead draw his sword.

“Hush, don´t be afraid, he won´t harm you again.” the Earl repeated warmly, his voice filled with contempt for this battered, beaten creature that must have been a man once. Before he was forced to become a maniac beast and before he had been punished for being what he was. Gisburne, meanwhile didn´t understand this. He had been captured and tied up and thrown to this wolfsheads feet by the guards of his own employer, the man who definitively had no sympathy for him, but would defend him at least, if only to spare himself the hassle to search for another adaequate... spell: cheap... steward. Shuddering he curled up even more, still unable to escape or to put up any resistance. He was lost...

The Earl of Huntington sighed. The devil may knew what was going on in this boys mind. One instant he tried to get back on his feet, obviously determined to attack, the next moment he laid there, calm, motionless like a dying animal. He decided to talk to the boy.

“Can you try to get up?” a voice asked softly, nearly concerned. It couldn´t mean him. Nobody ever had been concerned with him, not even his mother. Her voice had been quiet and forlorn with resignation and fear and self-pity. She had had no power left to be really concerned. Even Gisburne himself wasn´t concerned about himself. He was afraid of pain, he was afraid of dying, too, but if it should happen, it would happen. He gave a soft sigh and kept his eyes shut. Why should he see the kick, when it came... and it would come... he would wince soon enough. There was no mercy. Not for him. Never for him.

The Earl of Huntington was seriously worried. His sons face was pale, contorted in agony, but strangely relaxed. He had given up the fight, appearantly determined to get through with the inevitable punishment he seemed to be expecting. He shook his head, unwilling to accept this behaviour. “Come on, Guy... get up.” he encouraged the boy silently. “C´mon, you can do it, you´re strong enough.” Gisburne sighed quietly, but didn´t move at all. For a moment he laid there, panting and trying to recover a little bit, until he stretched and tried to get up again.

The wolfshead stared down at his pitiful attempts to get up and sneered hatefully. “You did a thorough job.” the Earl remarked ironically and bowed down to help the young man get back on his feet. But when Gisburne got back to his feet, swaying and staggering, an incredibly fast spin kick from Scarlett sent him back onto the floor, his hands pressed to his knee. This time, Huntington exploded in fury. “What shall this mean?!?” he roared and glared at Will angrily. “He was just about to get up! Why did you kick him down, what did he do now? I´ll not tolerate this!!” Wills face went red, but he held his temper. Menacingly he came closer. “Listen up, nobleman, and listen well...” he hissed in his husky, deadly tone of voice he usually reserved for Gisburne and his men. “´e tried to escape me... even more, ´e tried to fool me! And I´m not the man who´ll let this pass unpunished. `e´ll learn to obey me, sooner or later... the one way or the other. And if you and your son really want me to take care of this... this murdering scum, you´ll ´ave to let me ´andle things my own way.” He turned around, slowly, every muscle in his body tensed, ready to fight, if it should be necessary. Gisburne gasped with pain. The kick had taken him totally by surprise, he was quite sure that he´d be allowed to get up, because this Earl of Huntington wanted it . But obviously, the wolfshead was in charge of him, so he had to be even more careful what he did. This cutthroat hated his guts... even more since he tried to search shelter with the Sheriff... and there would surely be even more pain and punishment when the Earl left. He stifled a whimper, not to attract anybodys attention, but he had been heard already. Scarlett whipped around, his fists clenched, his teeth gritted, ready to lunge at the helpless norman knight, when suddenly he felt himself being grabbed and whirled around to met with a definitely hard punch right to his chin. Being the bully-boy he was, Will certainly wasn´t stunned at once, he was just astonished. Astonished that someone who wasn´t from Lichfield could ever hit so hard. “Listen up, peasant and listen well...” the Earl of Huntington hissed back. “If I want him punished, I´ll do so!! Is this understood? I´ll ´andle things my way!” Subconsciously, Wills hand creeped up to his chin to feel it gingerly. Man, this Earl damn sure had a good smack! “If he fooled you, I have an easy and good advice for you: don´t let yourself be fooled! End of matter!” Noticing Gisburnes bewildered, but surely amused grin, he added: “And you, my son, you´re surely much too old to play such childish games, aren´t you? Next time I expect you to play less annoying games with your companion. You know exactly why I won´t allow you to walk around here freely, don´t you, boy?” Sir Guys glare would have cut through glass. “Neither am I your filthy son, nor am I a boy to you, traitor.” he snarled. “The only son, if you could call it that, you ever had is this boyish wolfshead, this failure of a knight...” A short but hard backhand made Gisburne shut up. He stared at the earl as if he had never seen a human being before. “Now you both got what you obviously needed badly.” the grey-haired man stated calmly. In spite of their mutual despise of each other, Gisburne and Scarlet exchanged a stunned glance, looking at each other, then at the earl. Suddenly, Scarlet started to laugh. It began as a giggle, transforming within seconds into a hell of a laughter. He laughed and laughed for about a minute until tears got into his eyes, doubling up with the pain this hilarious laughter caused him, but still wasn´t able to stop laughing. Sir Guy watched him cautiously when he grabbed the earls shoulder to steady himself. Even this man had began to smile broadly. Gisburne didn´t understand what the hell could be so funny about the whole situation. Slowly, Will calmed down and wiped the tears from his face. “For this one...” he coughed. “for this one I´ll forget the blow you gave me.” He laughed again, more like hiccuping for the lack of air then a real laughter. “My, did you see his stupid gaze? You seem to be just the man to ´andle ´im, really. At least you found a way to shut him up!” He bursted out laughing again. “I really can´t see the joke about it!!” Gisburne snapped and retreated to the bed to sit down on it. “I wonder that ´e didn´t smack you back.” Will quoted cheerily. “You seem to ´ave impressed ´im!”

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