by M. C. Frank
“Forgive me, I only…”
“I truly did not mean to pry, my lady. Only to voice my concern. You have hardly touched any food. If it is my presence that disconcerts you, I will remove myself at once.” He made as if to stand up.
“Indeed no, good sir. Although, I must admit that I still have not managed to sort out everything I heard from you but a few hours ago.”
“Please ask me anything you wish. I hope you have at least understood that it is my fondest wish to be of some help to you, no matter how inconsequential.” He smiled and for the first time, she saw that he could be charming. She would never consider him handsome, for she hadn’t ever seen him wear anything but a frown on his face, and his clothes were always so somber -he was dressed in black from head to toe once more- and most importantly he was no brave outlaw with stars in his eyes. But right now, an almost soft expression was on his face and his eyes held a look of honesty and the promise of goodness, something she had never before deemed him capable of. She opened her mouth to thank him, but was interrupted.
A young lady, having abandoned her place in a table at the opposite end of the banquet hall, was apparently trying to wedge herself between Rosa and Sir Hugh. She leaned against him, in a way calculated to provide him with a lavish view of her charms, and proceeded to speak in a throaty voice.
“Good Sir Hugh, I came over here to tempt you with a little wine, as I noticed with concern your lack of appetite. Although,” she added with a sly grin, “if what is at fault here is your company, we could remedy that as well, could we not?”
Rosa couldn’t believe the girl’s brazen behavior, especially when she moved as if to sit on Sir Hugh’s lap. It was too early for her to have become inebriated, wasn’t it? But then again, Rosa had slightly lost track of the time, thinking of the forest.
The girl swayed, landing awkwardly on Sir Hugh’s thigh and further proved Rosa’s assumption to be true, by an unladylike laugh. To Rosa’s surprise, Sir Hugh said nothing, neither to reprimand the girl nor to discourage her, but stood up decisively. He took the girl by the arm, rather roughly, and all but dragged her aside, where he thrust her to the support of an unsuspecting servant.
He came back with a quite disgusted look on his face and began earnestly apologizing to Rosa, but her mind was occupied with a question. She kept watching the girl’s progress through the room, and suddenly realized where she had seen her before. For the hostile face she had noticed watching her in the garden belonged to that same girl.
“Who is she?” she asked Sir Hugh.
“Her name is Eloise Cecil,” he answered reluctantly.
“Not the daughter of Lord Cecil, the Earl?”
“The same.” Sir Hugh glanced at her sideways, and gave one of his sad smiles. “I am afraid my conquest of her interest is not something which raises me in your esteem.”
“The conquest of her interest? I should think it is much more than that.”
“Why do you speak thus?” he frowned.
“Why, she positively hates me. If that is not an indication of her feelings, then what is?”
“You should not worry. You see, I don’t think we can talk of feelings where this particular lady is concerned. Ambition, yes. But no more.”
Rosa couldn’t help but smile ruefully at this, for it so accurately described Sir Hugh himself, in her opinion. He saw her expression immediately and leaned close to her ear, asking her eagerly: “What did that smile mean?”
“You have suddenly begun to notice a lot,” she couldn’t help but say.
“There is nothing sudden about it. I have paid particular attention to your every move, since the first day I saw you. It was here, in this very room, and you were but eleven years old…” he seemed lost in his thoughts for a minute.
“But… but that’s almost eight years!” she cried, amazed.
“So it is.” He smiled again. Then, as abruptly as it had come, the smile left his face and a look of deep concern took its place. “But you haven’t answered my question. What was that smile for?” Then he seemed to realize something, and said suddenly, “That’s what you think of me, isn’t it? You think I am devoid of feeling.” He said it calmly, like an observation, but his eyes belied his sadness at this discovery.
Rosa tried to think of something to say, but he lifted a hand to stop her, as if he knew.
“You needn’t contradict it. I am grateful for this small glimpse into your thoughts. All I can hope now is that I might endeavor to prove you wrong. Only tell me this, I beg you. Might I still try? It rests entirely in your delicate hands.” He took her hand in his and gently kissed her palm, his eyes never leaving her face, intense, beseeching.
She didn’t however have the opportunity to answer him, for it was just then that the increasingly merry and loud feast all around them was interrupted into deadly silence.
For at that precise moment, a feathered arrow flew in by way of the window and planted itself right in the fleshy part of the remaining uneaten deer’s meat, which also happened to be placed directly in front of the Sheriff.
CHAPTER 3
THE KISS
Confusion reigned at once. Male voices calling:
“Guards! Guards!”
Female voices screaming. Feet running. Metal clanging. And in the midst of it all, the Sheriff’s booming, furious voice.
“Get him, now! I will have your heads, you hear me? He was right outside the window, you useless bastards!”
A few soldiers rushed out the door, others tried to climb the window in an effort to discover the way the outlaw or outlaws had managed to intrude the sacredness of the Sheriff’s domain.
Rosa’s father fell heavily back in his chair, motioning to a servant to bring him the offending arrow. There was, as expected, a small note attached to it.
Enjoy your feast, Sheriff, it said laconically, and was signed R.H.
The Sheriff turned an alarming shade of purple, and his guests tried to collect their wits and restore something of the former splendor of their feast. However, the Sheriff was not to be consoled.
“They’re mine!” he kept shouting at the outrageous robber, imagining him right there, at throttling distance. “I don’t need your permission to enjoy my deer, you thief, you abominable-”
“Thought you said he was dead, that forest fellow,” a voice muttered sarcastically next to him. The Sheriff stood to his feet, rage distorting his face in an ugly grimace.
“And so he shall be, I swear! My horse. Saddle it! Immediately.”
“Good Sheriff, it is the middle of the night…” Someone tried to dissuade his from further folly.
“At once, I said!” the Sheriff swept the hall in what he considered to be a majestic gesture and was gone.
The Sheriff rushed from the room as fast as his heavy cloak, lined with fur, and his increased weight allowed him, amid snickers from his guests. Damn that Robin Hood, he thought. The wretch took pleasure in humiliating him, but no more. He vowed it to himself right then and there. No more.
Amid all the commotion no one had noticed it, but one person was absent from the room -one who would have had a great deal of interest in witnessing this vehement outburst. But Rosa had left the banquet hall a couple of moments previous to that. And this is how it happened.
Sir Hugh was still holding her hand in his reverently when the arrow flew in through the window. He felt her trembling violently next to him and reached out a hand to support her. But then he looked in her face and discovered that she had gone completely white.
“My lady… what is the matter?” he asked, alarmed. “Play, do not be concerned. I do not believe there is any real threat…”
Rosa tried to speak, but her lips were trembling. How could he be so stupid, was all she could think. To do a thing so dangerous, to so blatantly laugh straight at the face of danger, of certain death even… Was there any solid reason for Robin to risk his head that way?
She was so afraid that she couldn’t breathe for a moment. And then
she started to feel the familiar dull pain beginning to throb at her side. Immediately, she was alert. It certainly wouldn’t do to have an attack right now. She tried to breathe regularly, rhythmically, but already the pain had grown to an almost insupportable pitch. She felt her face drain of blood and fought to remain conscious. Next to her, Sir Hugh was holding her upright and looking at her with something akin to panic.
“Are you unwell, Rosa?” he said again, in his haste using her Christian name. “No, no do not close your eyes. Stay with me!” he commanded. Then, “Maybe you should breathe some fresh air. Yes, that’s it.”
Decisively he helped her stand, encircling one arm about her waist. When he found that her legs would not support her, he put his other arm around her as well and thus holding her, he all but carried her from the room. As soon as they were on the terrace, he made her sit on a stone bench and returned in a minute with a glass of wine in his hand. He helped her drink, while holding her upright, and then sat and gazed at the expressions that were taking form on her face. She was silent, but her eyes shone like stars with intensity and excitement. And pain, although, mercifully, it seemed to be subsiding a bit.
In a moment it was evident in his face that he suddenly knew that this trembling, which still shook her, wasn’t terror for her own safety.
“So that’s how it is, eh?” he said quietly, as if speaking to himself, a moment later.
“What?” she asked, almost visibly gasping for breath..
“That is where your loyalties lie, fair Rosa,” he pronounced in a voice quiet and astonished. “I should have known. It was always thus, wasn’t it? From the very first. And I thought all this time… I wanted to kill the villain personally, did you know that? I wanted to kill Robin Hood for being the cause of your suffering, of your death almost. Damn, it was him that should have been hurt that day, not you. But apparently I was wrong.” He brought his fist vehemently down on his thigh.
“I would gladly have laid down my life for Robin Hood that time and any other time, if that is what you mean,” she replied, a hand pressing her aching side.
Only then did he realize what the matter was.
“Good God, is it hurting you? Your injury?” his eyes examined her, his expression dark with concern.
“I’m better now, I think it’s passed.” She took another careful breath. Yes, the pain had definitely grown less intense. She closed her eyes in thankful relief.
“I did not know it still troubled you…” he murmured, frowning.
“It doesn’t, really,” she replied dismissively. “I only suffer some rare attacks, usually caused by uneven breathing, or some extreme agitation. The left lung is quite destroyed, you know.”
“Attacks?” He persisted, much to her discomfort. “Of what kind?”
“Of black, intense pain, if you must know.”
“It appears to me you take no small amount of pride in this,” he said slowly, observing her.
“Indeed, you are correct, Sir Hugh. I consider it to be the great accomplishment of my life.”
Silence reigned for a minute after this emphatic statement. A nightly breeze stirred a few stray hairs that had escaped her elaborate braids, and she lifted her burning cheeks to the blissful coolness it brought with it.
“Why?” Sir Hugh burst out suddenly, anger darkening his eyes. “I mean, I have never made the mistake of comparing you to other women, but still this act was by far the most heroic deed I have ever heard about, and I have seen my share of battle. Such a brave, fearless risk you took, probably knowing you might meet your end by it, too. Why? What has this robber done to inspire such unbelievable courage in your heart, to earn your loyalty unto… well, death, literally?”
“He has given me hope.” She answered simply, a faint smile softening her features. “He made me believe in goodness again. And justice. You know,” she continued after a moment’s pause, since he didn’t seem to be inclined to speak, “I sincerely believe that everyone, from the poorest waif to a king, both men and women, everyone needs a worthy cause to live for. To believe in, to fight for and even to die for if necessary. Life acquires meaning when one lives for something worth dying for. Robin Hood is that to me.”
He regarded her in silence for a few minutes; admiration, respect and incredulity mingling in his expression. Finally, a thought seemed to strike him and he spoke angrily again.
“I… I cannot even begin to imagine the gratitude, the guilt… the pain this injury of yours would- or must I say should- have caused to he who is responsible for it, even if he thought it was accidental, which were not the case. If, of course he were a man of honor-”
Rosa interrupted him abruptly.
“He doesn’t know!” she cried.
Sir Hugh looked at her for a moment and then laughed a dry, harsh laugh.
“Of course he doesn’t,” he said. “God, how could I have thought otherwise, knowing you as I do? Of course the coarse, uncivilized oaf has no idea whatsoever.”
…
Rosa wouldn’t have thought it possible, but some miracle must have occurred.
It was the next day and here she was, riding into the forest a few hours before sunset, her heart lifted almost to the skies.
Was it possible that the man was actually telling the truth when he spoke of having true, honest feelings for her? If not, how else could she explain his covering her absence so that she could go on an excursion to the Sherwood Forest? Especially since he had made known his thoughts toward Robin Hood with so much vehemence last night. In fact, she had asked him just that. Instead of a response he had looked straight into her eyes, his own light blue ones poring into hers with so much intensity in them that it had silenced her.
“Might I ask you a question too, fair lady?” he had said after a moment. “Why do you not leap to your noble hero’s defense when I so often abuse him? I confess, a few times I thought to provoke you. But you seem hardly to notice it. That isn’t the case, however, is it?”
“Well… the truth is, Sir Hugh, I hardly think it worth the trouble.” She had said it calmly and smilingly, as if it hardly upset her at all.
“I see.”
“You are so obviously the very opposite, by character and birth… And your loyalties certainly do not lie with the true king-”
He had interrupted her angrily at this.
“True king be damned! He has abandoned this country to God’s mercy, running away like a coward to have his fun in the East. I tell you, this outlaw of yours, who you think is so devoted to the true king, along with those ragtag half-wits that follow him, they are all hypocrites. Do you really think for one moment that he has accumulated all this wealth merely to distribute it? Talk about gullibility!” he had caught a glimpse of her outraged look and checked himself. “Look, I know you believe my actions and plans with the Sheriff to be… traitorous at best. But have you stopped to consider, this country is bereft of a king, true or otherwise. We are merely seeking to remedy this.”
Rosa had narrowed her eyes at him.
“Do you want me to be so naïve as to think that the good of this land is the only thing you plot about? Please, do not ask me to believe this of my father, however well you may seek to present your suit to me.” Disgusted, she had made to leave, but he sprang to his feet and lightly touched her arm to stay her, his eyes beseeching her understanding.
“I do not pretend ignorance of the Sheriff’s own plans. But I really thought you would be generous enough to separate me from such ulterior motives. I beg you to understand, I beg you… Are you indeed blind to the situation king Richard has abandoned England to?”
Rosa had studied him for a while, trying to see him in the light his surprising statements implied. It was rather obvious that he was trying to separate himself from her father’s base and selfish motives, but with what motive? She was reluctant to trust his misplaced goodwill for her country.
“In truth, Sir Hugh, I may not agree with the king’s present choice, namely, to be so long absent f
rom his subordinates. However, he is the rightful and only king of this land. That alone is enough for him to earn my lifelong loyalty and devotion,” she had replied, choosing her words carefully, but speaking them with firmness and conviction.
“Well, I cannot fail to admire that,” he had said and suddenly took her hand and brought it to his lips. He had kissed it long and passionately, his eyes tightly shut, and then slowly released her.
Afterwards, however, he had told her she was free to go visit the forest if she liked and that he would say that she was with him the entire time, implying they were engaged in secret and intimate rendezvous, which wouldn’t be hard for everyone to believe. Her eyes had grown round with surprise at this, and to her obvious question, he had answered, with his customary sad half-smile:
“I wish, more for your own safety than for anything else, that you wouldn’t go there ever again. However, I seem to have a great weakness for your happiness. And it seems to me that this is the only thing that would make you so. I can’t… I can’t bear the look of unhappiness in your lovely eyes. Now go, if you must, go before I regret it. I’ll see to it that everyone thinks you’re with me.”
Rosa had been so overwhelmed by his words, that before she had had time to think of it, she had impulsively thrown her arms around him, whispering happily ‘thank you, thank you so much!’
At first, he froze with the shock of her nearness, but then his hands went round her fiercely, violently, almost threatening to choke her. Then he released her abruptly. He stepped away from her, his head bent down, but before he did, she had a fleeting glance of tears gleaming in his eyes. It took him a minute to compose himself, but then he approached her again, so close that all she could see of him was the black silk of his tunic, for he was towering above her.
She felt his trembling hand touch her hair lightly and he whispered in her ear: “Promise me you’ll be careful. If something were to befall you, I don’t know how I… Promise me you will be safe, I beg thee.”
