Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. They're owned by Rupert Holmes, yadda, yadda, etc.
Lady Betty woke to find herself in bed, alone. Thank goodness! she thought.
She looked around. Yes, she was still stuck in the castle, in the bedchamber the Sheriff of Nottingham imprisoned her in last evening. The villainous swine had kidnapped her as she was riding to her home with her servant girl riding alongside her. The sheriff's men leapt from behind the trees as she and young Maple had just crossed a tiny stream in the forest. They had quickly subdued Maple and carried her off, with Maple protesting loudly. Lady Betty also decided not to go away quietly. She quickly tossed her money-pouch at the nearest soldier's head, causing him to fall back onto his rump. The other soldiers had laughed, but kept coming. One caught hold of her horse, and another grabbed her leg, and dragged her off of her horse. As she fell, she heard them all chuckle. One of the soldiers, their leader, presumably, had nodded to the others and said, "We've got her. Tie her up and take her back to the Sheriff." And so that's what they had done.
Once she arrived in the castle, the Sheriff quickly found his way to her, and had once again fawned all over her. Lady Betty quietly ignored his attempts to woo her. Finally, the Sheriff had gotten the message, and had his soldiers take her to the highest bedchamber in his castle to spend the night. The Sheriff's parting words to her were, "When next we meet, it shall be our glorious wedding day!"
Lady Betty was too tired to put up much of a fight after that, and had allowed herself to be taken to the bedchamber in which she now found herself.
As she looked around, she could see that during the night, someone had entered and placed a beautiful wedding dress over on the table near the window. Lady Betty got up out of her bed, and paced quietly over to the dress. Yes, it was indeed a wondrous garment. "Hmph!" Lady Betty said, smirking. "I shall never don those clothes for as long as I live."
"What a pity," a voice said from the doorway behind her. Lady Betty spun around. The Sheriff stood before her. "I should hate to have to marry a corpse."
"We cannot always have what we desire, Sheriff," Lady Betty retorted quickly.
The smile on the Sheriff's face faded only briefly, but just returned just as quickly as he replied in kind. "Indeed, we cannot. As you, yourself, shall not have the hand of your beloved ne-er-do-well. For, even as we speak, my finest soldiers are sweeping through the forest in search of him. We shall have him momentarily, I am sure. Who knows?" The Sheriff chuckled. "I may even ask him to be my Best Man!"
Lady Betty arched an eyebrow. "There is no way in heaven or in hell that my beloved will ever do as you ask!"
The Sheriff nodded. "I am sure. I was speaking in jest, of course. I would never ask him to be a part of the ceremony."
Lady Betty turned her back on the Sheriff. "Get out."
"You forget yourself, my Lady, this is my castle, you are my guest. I am the one to give orders here." He turned to the doorway, and clapped his hands. "Servants!" A quartet of young, scared-looking girls rushed into the room. None of them dared look at the Sheriff. "I wish to be married within the hour. Have the Lady Betty dressed and ready for the ceremony as quickly as possible." The servants nodded, and moved towards Lady Betty. "I will see you shortly, my sweet!" And with that, the Sheriff swept out of the room.
The servant girls, tears in their eyes, moved towards Lady Betty. Lady Betty eyed them closely. She could see they were terrified, and were merely doing as they had been bidden by their cruel master. She knew that if she fought and resisted them, a worse fate than changing a Lady's clothes awaited them. So she sighed, and said, "I am ready."
*****
The huge cathedral looked impressive. Flowers of many different kinds lined the pews, and giant tapestries and draperies lined the walls and the ceiling. The windows high up along the walls let in beams of golden late-morning sunshine. The guards stationed at the entry rather marred the effect, though.
Due to the sudden nature of the ceremony, few invitations had been delivered, much less accepted. Only a few people sat in the pews, most in silence. The robed and hooded priest stood at the far end of the center aisle in front of the altar, awaiting the imminent approach of the Lady Betty. To the right of the priest stood the Sheriff, preening himself in his glorious vestments. He had obviously put on his finest clothing for this ceremony. A burly guard walked beside Lady Betty, clutching her arm, refusing to let her get away.
"My Lady, you look absolutely splendid!" the Sheriff called from far across the cathedral. Of all the impertinent cheek! How dare he shout at me, in the middle of the ceremony no less! Lady Betty fumed.
Finally, silently, Lady Betty reached the altar. The guard still held her arm firmly. The Sheriff noticed that and frowned at the guard. The guard let go of Lady Betty and moved stand by the first row of pews.
"My Lady, I cannot tell you how privileged I feel at this moment," the Sheriff said, grinning hugely. His eyes glinted with the fervor of a man about to achieve his life's ambition. "I am anxious to begin. Shall we?"
Lady Betty turned slowly to the Sheriff. She looked at him quietly, fuming inside. Saying nothing, she turned her head away, and stared forward at the altar.
"You will look at me, My Lady, when I speak to you!" the Sheriff growled. He reached out his left hand to grab her jaw...and his hand was suddenly skewered by a long, thin arrow!
The Sheriff spun around, clutching his hand, screaming in agony. "Guards!" he managed to spit out. "Find him! He's here! Stop him!" One of the guards rushed to help the Sheriff with his wound, one stayed close to Lady Betty, who was looking around fervently, and the rest of the guards ran about, confused.
"Hiya, Betty!" a voice cried out. One of the guards shouted, and pointed up at one of the windows high up in the wall.
"Sorry I'm late. Did I miss anything?" shouted Scott of Sherwood, boldly. The guards rushed towards the window in which Scott's body stood framed against the sunlight. Scott slung his bow over his shoulder, grabbed a nearby drapery, and with a quick jump out of the window, swung himself over the oncoming guards, and let go just as he reached the altar, landing nimbly on his feet next to Lady Betty. "Got held up in traffic. You wouldn't believe what I had to get through to make it here in time."
The priest at the altar swung back his cowled hood and beamed at Lady Betty. "Hello, Lady Betty!" said Friar Mackie.
"Scott! Mackie! I'm so pleased to see you both!" Betty cried, so happy she was nearly in tears.
Scott turned to Mackie. "Father?"
Mackie nodded. "Yep, I gotcha covered, boss." He reached under his robes and produced two gleaming swords. He flipped one to Betty and kept the other for himself. "Time to go to work, kid," he said to Lady Betty.
Lady Betty nodded, as she and Mackie turned to face the guards, who by now had recovered themselves and were rushing back at them.
Scott, meanwhile, jumped over to where the Sheriff cowered, clutching his left hand. "I don't think the Lady Betty is particularly fond of you, Sheriff," he said. "And frankly, neither am I." He held his sword out before him. "Shall we?"
The Sheriff stood up, grimacing. He unsheathed his own sword, held it out before him, and said, "Why not? I'll enjoy despatching you. I've been looking forward to it for far too long!" With that, he lunged at Scott, who easily parried the attack.
"Get used to disappointment," Scott chuckled as he spun and angled in for an attack. Their swords clashed, the sunlight from the windows gleaming on the silver blades. "Ya know, Sheriff," Scott said, conversationally, as he continued duelling, "I have just one thing to ask of you. You're not gonna like it, though."
The Sheriff, tiring from his struggles against Scott, growled, and said, "What? Say it, you foolish devil!"
"Well, don't say I didn't warn you," Scott said. "But instead of dancing here with you, there's another person who I'd much rather spend my life with on the dance floor. And I think she'd rather dance with me, instead of you. Perhaps you know her. She's right over there." Scott pointed behind the Sheriff.
The Sheriff spun around to find Lady Betty right in front of him, sword in hand. He could see his guards lying on the ground behind her.
Lady Betty's eyes narrowed, as she leaned in towards the Sheriff, and said "May I cut in?"
Lady Betty's sword flashed quickly, the sunlight glinting brightly. The Sheriff grimaced, spun, clutched his stomach, staggered to the first row of pews, and collapsed. Friar Mackie rushed over, holding his sword as he checked the Sheriff. "Yep, that about does it, folks," Friar Mackie said. "He's dead."
Lady Betty and Scott both dropped their swords, and rushed towards each other. They embraced, and held each other close. "Oh, Scott," Lady Betty breathed.
"Betty, Betty, Betty..." Scott murmured as he hugged her close. They paused, looked at one another.
Their eyes met. Time slowed. Scott began to lean towards Lady Betty, his lips about to touch hers...
....Betty's eyes snapped open. The thunder that had woken her still rumbled outside her bedroom. She sat up quickly, and looked around. "Oh no!" she cried. "It's the Barbican! No, no, no, no, no!!"
Quickly she shut her eyes again, jumped back under her covers, and squeezed her eyes shut as hard as she possibly could. "Back to sleep, back to sleep, back to sleep, back to sleep, back to sleep..." ~~~The End~~~
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