The Tempest: A Guy of Gisborne Story

by Charlotte Hawkins

  The Tempest

  A Guy of Gisborne Story

  By

  Charlotte Hawkins

  The Tempest

  Copyright@2010 by Charlotte Hawkins

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of a brief quotation embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously

  ISBN: 1449993974

  Printed in the United tates of America

  To Avalon, for all of her support and friendship

  and

  To R.A. for being such an inspiration

  Chapter 1

  Nottinghamshire, England

  June, 1193

  Cassia lifted her head, listening to the distant sound of the church bells…a distinct sound, for the current time was neither daybreak nor dusk. In the middle of a day, as it was now, the bells tolled for only two reasons…a death, or a wedding.

  She looked over at her father, who sat hunched over a bucket as he milked one of their goats. Taking in a little breath, she tried to seem nonchalant as she broached a subject she knew was most sensitive.

  “It is mid-day. The wedding ceremony shall commence within the hour. Are you certain we will not attend?”

  Robert DeWarren shook his head. His tone was firm.

  “I will not celebrate the nuptials of Sir Guy of Gisborne. I will not honor anyone loyal to the Sheriff of Nottingham, or Prince John, for that matter. King Richard is the true leader of this kingdom. I will not bow down to his pretenders.”

  So you have been telling me for quite some time, she thought.

  Turning back to the laundry hanging on the line, she gave a little sigh. As she took down a bed sheet and folded it, she watched her father rise from his milking stool. He had more to say on the matter…of that she was certain. He paused just before her, and she glanced up to look at him. His brown eyes, while kind as always, were deeply serious.

  “I am much aware of your curiosity, daughter. All of the village is stirred over this wedding, but we shall not indulge in such hypocrisy. Our loyalty is to the King, and we shall honor him by keeping well away from Nottingham.”

  She nodded, watching him as he disappeared into the house. He would be there for some time, occupied with turning the fresh milk into cheese. If she slipped away for a short while, he would not take immediate notice. Neither would he be at all pleased when he found her gone.

  But she was eighteen years of age. She had a mind and a will of her own. And she, like so many of her neighbors, wanted to be in Nottingham. There was a great event about to take place…and she intended to be there to witness it.

  widthlign="CENTER" height="0" width="0">*****

  Heavens, he was magnificent to watch.

  She looked in awe upon the man pacing the stones in front of Nottingham Church. His arms were crossed, his broad shoulders hunched. His head was lowered, causing the unruly waves of his dark hair to fall forward, almost covering his eyes. Except for the red and gold coat of arms etched upon his surcoat, he was dressed entirely in black. His long legs took up great strides as he moved back and forth, giving him the likeness of a prowling panther. Impatience was written in every line of his face and figure, and after several long moments, he entered the church to speak with the Vicar…and Cassia could not take her eyes from him.

  “God be with Lady Marian.”

  Those words broke her reverie. She glanced at the person who had spoken them. He was no one of significance…just one of the many villagers gathered around to witness the wedding about to take place. But he spoke for so many of his neighbors.

  “Heaven have mercy on her, good woman that she is.”

  Such a sentiment was shared by nearly everyone in Nottingham.

  It had been all the talk of late…that Sir Guy of Gisborne was to wed Lady Marian of Leaford. Just a few days before, the Sheriff’s guards had made the rounds to every home, giving orders that everyone was to attend or face punishment. They were to celebrate with as much fanfare as possible. They were told to give great applause and cheering, to wave flags, to throw flower petals…anything to show they supported the new couple and wished them well. Sheriff Briwere liked a semblance of loyal subjects at every occasion, be it a wedding or an execution. It thrilled him to have a crowd gathered around himself.

  But under the forced smiles, a great tremor of fear and anxiety flowed through the crowd.

  Poor Lady Marian, many whispered.

  Everyone knew that her heart belonged to Robin of Locksley. And yet, she would soon be taking the hand of Sheriff Briwere’s notorious Master at Arms. Just the dark presence of the man was enough to send a chill through every heart.

  Lady Marian…the beautiful, kind and gentle defender of the people…married to such a barbaric human being. Sir Guy’s reputation for cruelty preceded him, and everyone was praying for some miracle that would save Lady Marian from her fate.

  Cassia understood their worries. Like so many of those around her, she feared Sir Guy and his ruthlessness.

  And yet, she’d never been so besotted with any man before.

  So many times, she’d watched him from afar as he rode through the village, tall and darkly magnificent as he sat upon his horse. She thought of his eyes. What a strange, beautiful shade of color they were…grey a of hstormy sky. When she looked at him, she found herself spellbound. To her he seemed like a great tempest...a dark, powerful storm on the horizon. Frightening…and yet, completely fascinating to behold.

  He was all that was forbidden and dangerous. But she could not help her feelings of attraction, even though she knew that everyone in Nottingham…especially her father…thought him the very definition of darkness.

  But as deeply as she loved her father, she could not share in his contempt. She was his assistant when it came to aiding the poor. She even tolerated the occasional appearance of Robin Hood and his gang, who sometimes came to her father with a sick child or wounded villager. But she did not hold with his ideals about the saintly King Richard. Though she knew it was treason, she saw their King in the way she saw all royalty. Power hungry, vain…each cruel in their own different ways. While the Sheriff terrorized here at home, under the orders of Prince John, Richard was doing the same in the Holy Land. The blood of men was the blood of men, no matter where it was spilled. It was all senseless slaughter, no matter how one tried to justify it. And Guy of Gisborne was no innocent bystander.

  But God help her, there was something about him. Something that captivated her, no matter how often she heard ill of him.

  Her heart was breaking now as she mingled among the wedding guests. She imagined Guy at the altar, slipping a wedding band on the finger of a woman who didn’t love him. A woman whose heart and soul belonged to another. Why was he so obsessed with her?

  Everyone knew she possessed a great dowry. That alone was enough to attract many a nobleman’s interest. Briwere might have had her for himself, were it not for his own wife…albeit, one he’d had locked in a convent.

  But it seemed that Guy was interested in something more than her wealth. Everyone had heard rumors from the servants at Nottingham Castle…that Sir Guy pursued Lady Marian at every turn. That all she had to do was crook her little finger and he would follow her anywhere…allow her anything, even access to parts of the castle where few others were given admittance. No matter
that she was rumored to consort with outlaws in secret forest rendezvous. He was unwavering in his devotion to her, and now he would have her…too blind to see how much she truly despised him.

  Oh Guy, she thought with despair. Why can you not see her as I do? I have seen her with the outlaws. I have heard her speak of you with such disgust. I have seen her with Robin Hood. She stands in his arms, speaking of her great love for him. And yet she smiles at you, saying she will give herself to you in every way. You will take her to the marriage bed…but what face will she be seeing when she lies with you?

  The quiet afternoon was broken by the pounding of horse’s hooves. All heads turned to look as a rider came thundering to the church. It was a castle paige, judging from his garments…and the crowd watched in confusion as the boy skidded to a stop, leaping from his mount to rush into the church. He fell on his knees before Sir Guy.

  “My lord Gisborne! Lady Marian has disappeared!”

  Those spectators that were close to the doors watched and listened as the boy stammered an explanation.

  “There was a rope made of sheets that was hung from the window…and there was this parchment, tacked to the wall by an arrow.”

  An arrow.

  Everyone within earshot knew what that meant. Those who could see the activity inside…Cassia in particular…watched as Sir Guy scanned the note in his hand. Then in a moment he crumpled it furiously, tossing it aside…and stormed off to exit the church.

  Seeing him emerge, everyone bowed in submission. Cassia’s head was lowered as well, her long hair obscuring the troubled expression on her face. As she bowed her head, she heard a faint snicker or two among the crowd.

  Sir Guy has been abandoned at the altar.

  That tidbit was sure to stir up the gossip mills around town. Most of the villagers, and quite a number of the nobles as well, would find great delight in seeing him made such a fool. Though they feared his violent temper, they also laughed in their sleeves at him when he passed. He was, after all, a favorite target of humiliation for the Sheriff. More than once he’d been publicly degraded, usually when he failed to capture Robin Hood, or when Hood made one of his many notorious escapes.

  And now, Sir Guy’s degradation was complete.

  Cassia couldn’t help herself. She knew it might mean her life if she lifted her head to look…to dare cast her eyes upon a scorned nobleman, one who could very well choose her as a means to satisfy his thirst for revenge. But she had to look at him. Slowly, her gaze rose. And her heart felt a shock when her eyes met his. He was staring directly at her, an unreadable expression on his face. Then he turned away, rushing off with a band of guards following behind him.

  Many months would pass before she would be so close to him again.

  *****

  Stealing.

  It was a petty crime, but one punishable by the removal of a limb. It was an end that hardly justified the means…at least, in his eyes.

  But she had taken the risk. And lost.

  Guy stood with arms folded, his eyes cast aside, as Marian was brought into the square below. He feared that if he let his gaze fall on her, he would see her looking back at him, pleading for his help.

  But she didn’t deserve his mercy. Lying, scheming bitch that she was.

  Standing near him on the observation platform, Sheriff Briwere stepped to the railing. Tall and thin, his blond hair short and severe, he had an air of menace about him, particularly in his eyes. They were pale blue…chilling when cast on those he looked down upon. He lifted his arms, calling for the attention of the crowd below.

  “People of Nottingham! Cast your eyes upon this deviant criminal whore! Think not that her position as a noblewoman will benefit her, for she will face punishment as would any vagabond who dares patronize with criminals! Five days hence, you will all be witness to her death. And when her traitorous body hangs from the gallows for all to see, let it be a reminder that no man, woman, or child escapes justice under my regime!”

  He made a motion, a signal to the guards to take her away. As he turned from the platform, Guy followed behind.

  “My lord, perhaps we should assign more guards to the task of watching her. While she is in custody, Hood is sure to be plotting her rescue.”

  The Sheriff snorted in reply.

  “Such would not be the case if you had captured him the first time. But do not trouble your simple mind with him or his associates. I have my own plan regarding any attempt to hasten to her rescue.”

  Always a plan, Guy thought. And always a failure. But as always, he had no opinion to give. His duty was not to question, but to follow…which he did so in silence.

  They stood within her cell. Guy kept his eyes lowered, only occasionally glancing up to see The Sheriff traipsing back and forth. There was a shining of evil delight in his eyes, one that Guy knew all too well. Briwere always enjoyed taunting prisoners…but this was no ordinary captive. And Briwere seemed gleefully aware of it.

  He walked back and forth just inside the room, his long robes flowing behind him in dramatic fashion. He eyed Marian with utter contempt.

  “Well, well. The woman of Robin Hood, awaiting her death with such stoicism. How noble.”

  Guy did not want to look at Marian…but he found he could not help himself. She sat in a chair, her spine so straight it made no contact with the back of the seat. Her hands were folded neatly in lap, and she stared silently out the window. In the face of doom, she was proud and uncowardly. The Sheriff, however, was not impressed.

  “What a pity,” he said. “A true pity indeed that her beloved outlaw will not reach her in time to save her neck.”

  Guy saw her flinch. But she did not turn, even as the Sheriff went on with a jovial menace in his tone.

  “Robin Hood has fallen for a trick. He thinks he has several days to formulate a plan…that his beloved will have a trial before she faces justice.”

  The tone of his voice suddenly darkened…and raised to a near roar.

  “WRONG! Your neck will stretch first thing in the morning! And may your deceitful soul burn in purgatory!”

  He turned away in a furious movement, leaving the room.

  But Guy did not follow. He slowly turned to her…and his lip curled in a sneer. Eyes narrowed, he spoke coldly.

  “Thou art a fool, Marian. Do you see where your loyalty to Robin Hood has placed you? Had you been true to me, you would not be in this danger.”

  At long last she spoke. She did not turn to look at him. But her voice, which had once fallen on his ear with such warmth, became bitter with loathing.

  “Guy of Gisborne, ‘tis you that has been the fool. Did you truly believe I would dishonor my people and my country by wedding an enemy of the king?”

  He snorted in disgust.

  “Your country and your King indeed. All that you do is for Robin Hood. You have lied and stolen on his behalf. You commit treason because of him. Will you now be a whore for him as well? A whore for an outlaw?”

  “I would rather be called an outlaw’s whore than to be cursed with the name of a man I despise. You are despicable, Guy of Gisborne.”

  Her hatred smote his soul. This woman, whom he had been so deeply in love with, was nothing but a liar and a fraud. All this time she had been deceiving him, using him…and he wanted her to pay for her treachery. He had an impulse to go over and strike her across the face…to see her cower before him in fear. He wanted her to feel the agony that he was feeling at that moment.

  Instead, he turned and left her, slamming the cell door shut behind him…blind with hurt and rage. And he silently cursed her soul.

  *****

  Late that night, he sat in his castle chambers, staring into the fire. He knew he should have been in his own bedchamber at home. Several times he’d attempted to rise and depart.

  But he could not go.

  He was besieged by thoughts of her. Her beauty had always been his weakness. Dark-haired, ivory-skinned, with a pair of emerald green eyes that shined so
brilliantly. He had known many attractive women in his life, but they all paled in comparison to her. He had sworn to give her everything he had…his heart, his hand, and a share of all his possessions. He had wanted no other woman for his wife.

  And in the end, she had blatantly rejected him for another man.

  He wanted to hate her for it. He wanted to rejoice in her punishment…to see not only that she paid the price for betraying him, but that the manloved would know ultimate suffering.

  Her true love. Robin of Locksley. The elusive, cunning little bastard.

  He tried to imagine Hood weeping over the death of his beloved Marian. He wanted him to feel pain like he’d never felt before. He wanted him crawling on the floor, wailing in misery.

  For a few moments, Guy felt a deep wave of satisfaction at the thought of his enemy in such torment.

  But then he had a mental image of Marian in the hands of the guards. Of her being bound at the wrists…being lead up the steps to the scaffold…the noose being placed around her neck. And when he thought of the trap door falling beneath her feet…the agonizing sound he knew would follow…it was more than even he could endure…

  His boots pounded along the stones of the castle tower. His expression was dark, his mouth drawn in a deep frown as he made his way through the dimness, his path illuminated by the dancing light of a torch. As he neared the door to her room, he spoke silently to himself.

  He would take her as his wife.

  Her consent was not required. He could take her, bound and gagged if necessary, and force her to kneel before a priest. There was no other way to keep her from execution…and he did not care if she despised him. He would not allow her to hang…not when he could save her.