PART TEN
Robin opened his eyes, blinking at the mist that had begun to envelop the trees. He had been sleeping so peacefully that he hadn't even noticed its approach. He rose to his feet and stretched. His hand rested momentarily on the tree, its roots having just served as his pillow. He walked through the mist that glided about his knees and headed towards the antlered figure who beckoned to him. Herne.
The forest god watched his son as he approached. Herne didn't speak until Robin was close enough for him to discern his face and know the thoughts that pressed
his mind. Robin waited too, waited for the prophecy Herne would expect him to fulfill.
"The Wheel has turned and another time is upon us. It is a time where you control your own destiny, a time where you control both beginning and end."
"But how? How does it end?"
"Only you can decide that. I cannot guide you. I am blind. Darkness has covered my eyes. Only you can see now."
"Is there nothing you can tell me then?"
"I can tell you this, Robin. You cannot follow the path to destiny until you have resolved the present and past. You must face them both and conquer them. Only then will the path be free for you to follow."
"But what must I do?"
"Together they must be. Together to be free...Brother must aid brother before the Wheel shall turn. When it is done, you will come to me, to a place and time of our knowing..."
"What place and time? How will I know?"
"You will know. You have always known..." Herne proclaimed. Then, he was gone.
Robin woke, feeling stiffness and pain in his muscles and joints. He stood and stretched, gazing up at the fading light of the late afternoon sky.
"My path begins in Nottingham," he spoke.
"Nottingham?" Loxley turned his head towards the young lord in interest. "Why?" he asked, more curious than suspicious.
"I'm going to find Guy and try to speak to him again."
"Is that wise?" said Loxley, remembering the dramatic escape Guy had made from Sherwood the last time Robin had tried to speak to him.
"No, but it's necessary. He could be in trouble," replied Robin, as if hoping to justify his reasons for going. Marion's ears pricked up at the word "trouble" but she didn't look at Robin.
"Trouble?" questioned Loxley. "What kind of trouble?"
"With Guy? It could be all kinds." Robin looked at Marion to ascertain this, forgetting for a moment that she didn't share a knowledge of Gisburne's vast history of incompetencies. He frowned when he remembered and went to fetch his horse.
Marion began to grow fearful. Why had Robert of Huntington looked at her when he had spoken of his brother being in trouble? Did he know? Surely he could have no idea and yet...He could find out. He might figure out everything, especially if he was going to speak with his brother again...She had to leave Sherwood while she still could. If Robert of Huntington found out about her plans, she would be the one in all sorts of trouble .
She looked at her servants, John and Nasir, and they read the intent in her eyes. Soon they too would be leaving Sherwood and returning to Belleme Castle.
It was rather late when Robin entered the castle, but he had the feeling that Gisburne wasn't sleeping at the moment. Robin headed for the great hall, assuming that, if anywhere, Gisburne would be there. He was right.
Gisburne laid half-sprawled across the raised chair and table, his legs crossed comfortably in front of him in a rather good imitation of the Sheriff. Robin walkedinto the hall unnoticed, which was odd considering that Gisburne was alone. The very nervous and tired servants had finally left Guy to himself.
The Sheriff had managed to escape to his bed about an hour ago. He had listened to all he could bear on the subject of horses, armour and tournaments. The Sheriff had left the hall in great puzzlement. He hadn't been able to understand why an earl's son should be interested in subjects that usually concerned only the most common knights.
Guy hadn't even thought of that being unusual at the time. He had been having far too much fun forcing de Rainault to listen to him as he spoke about some of the things that bored and irritated the Sheriff most. And the Sheriff had had to sit patiently and attentively through it all because he couldn't possibly be rude to an earl's son. It had been glorious!
Gisburne had already begun to plan what subjects he could torture de Rainault with tomorrow. Maybe he could discuss falconry, or his opinion on the upcoming
war in Wales. Or maybe even Robin Hood. Robin Hood...
"Gisburne!" hissed a voice, breaking through the knight's pleasant reverie.
"Hmm...?" muttered Guy, glancing down to see who had dared to disturb him. "Robin Hood!" He almost dropped the wine cup that was nestled so nicely
in his hand.
"You're drunk."
"Am I? I only had a few drinks to celebrate."
"Celebrate what?"
"My madness, Wolfshead. I'm celebrating my madness. To my madness," toasted Gisburne, raising his cup. "Sit down and join me. You probably drove me to it." So this was how Gisburne was accepting the situation. He had made the decision that he had gone mad. It didn't seem like such a bad notion really. Robin knew that he had been tempted to think that himself at first.
"You're not mad, Gisburne," stated Robin. "At least, not mad enough to think up all this. You're drunk."
"For more than a day?" demanded the knight. "No, that's impossible. Besides, I could never be so drunk as to see the Sheriff purposely ingratiating himself
before me."
"He thinks you're Guy of Huntington."
"And so does everyone else from what I've seen!" cried Gisburne.
"Then how can you be the one who's mad? You know you're not Guy of Huntington. I know you're not Guy of Huntington."
"So what does that prove? That a whole town's gone mad?"
"No one has gone mad. Rhiannon's Wheel has turned and we're in a different--" Gisburne started to laugh audibly.
"You're talking about a bunch of old stones turning and you think no one here has gone mad?" Gisburne pushed the wine jug across the table towards Robin. "Here. Take it. You need it more than I do," he commented. Robin pushed it back. Gisburne started to laugh again. He sat down in the Sheriff's chair, folding his hands neatly on the table.
"Why have you come here, Wolfshead? What do you want?" he questioned.
"We need to talk."
"Again?"
"You left earlier before I could finish."
"Yes, well, I'm sitting down now , so you can go ahead." Gisburne sniggered at his own meagre attempt at humour. This was going to be a little harder than Robin had first anticipated.
"I need your help, Gisburne," muttered the outlaw.
"Pardon me?" asked Guy.
"I need your help," repeated Robin. "And you need mine."
"Oh, do I? And why is that?"
"Because unless we help each other, we're going to be trapped in this time forever and we'll never be able to return to our time again."
"Oh Lord, not that again!" implored Gisburne. "Wolfshead, why don't you find someone else to bother. The Sheriff's gone to bed, but I'm sure if you were to wake him he'd talk for hours!" Guy yawned, his hours of drinking beginning to catch up with him. Robin yawned too, thinking about how amazing it was that Gisburne could remain just as unpleasant drunk as sober.
"All right," spoke Robin, trying another tactic, "even if you don't believe that we're in a different time, you must see that everything around you has changed. And," he said quickly, before Guy could open his mouth, "it isn't because you've gone mad. That would mean that I had gone mad as well and I don't believe that."
"What are you trying to say?"
"I'm saying that this isn't right. We have to change things back to the way they were."
"Whatever for?"
"What do you mean 'whatever for?'" Gisburne folded his arms and sat back.
"If, as you claim, everything has changed, then why should you wish to interfere with it? Perhaps it has changed for a reason."
"Yes, but not for the right one. The Wheel turned when it wasn't meant to turn. None of this is right."
"And how do you know that?"
"You just have to look around you to see that. It isn't right. Nothing here is right!"
"Everything looks fine to me. In fact, everything looks perfect."
"But it isn't right ," persisted Robin.
"So? What does that matter?" asked Gisburne irritably.
"You and I don't belong here. This isn't our time." Gisburne fidgeted in his chair, looking away from Robin for a moment in exasperation.
"How do you know that? Maybe, Wolfshead, it is. Just because you think that you don't belong here, doesn't mean that I don't! Who are you to judge
any of this? Do you think I'm going to listen to you because you're some pagan forest god's son? What gives you the right to decide anything?"
"I don't have that right, but I understand what is happening here and I know that it's wrong."
"You don't understand anything, Wolfshead! And I don't understand you! Why would you want to change things back to the way they were? You're free of them. You're free of those cutthroats. You're practically a pardoned man. The Sheriff thinks that you're Robert of Huntington again!"
"And that you're my brother."
"Yes, well, what he and everyone else is stupid enough to believe is hardly my concern. The whole notion is absurd! However, although my ambition was to be
High Sheriff of Nottingham, I suppose I could settle for being an earl's son," mused Gisburne playfully.
"This isn't a game, Gisburne," admonished Robin.
"But that's where you're wrong again, Wolfshead. Everything is a game. Life is a game. You either win the game or lose it."
"I see. Is that why you're afraid to go back? Because you lost?" Gisburne pushed back his chair and stood up.
"I didn't lose! He cheated!"
"Then why don't you go back and tell the truth about what happened?"
"I did, you idiot, and they still believed the Sheriff! Why do you think they tried to have me executed? If I go back there, I'm a dead man!"
"But you're already a dead man here!" protested Robin. "Guy of Huntington was killed remember."
"Well, I'd rather be a rich dead man than a poor one!"
"What's the difference? If you're dead, you're dead!"
"I'm not dead! I don't feel dead at all, Wolfshead!" Gisburne snapped. "Why should you care either way what I do? Why wouldn't you want me to be dead in
this time, when you want me dead in the other time...?" Gisburne paused. "What am I saying? There is no other time!"
"So you're mad then."
"Not as mad as you, Wolfshead." He sat down again. "I know why you want to deny all of this," spoke Guy, his words slightly slurred.
"And why is that?"
"Because you're afraid that you might lose Marion to Loxley. Isn't that right?" Gisburne had hit the target.
"That has nothing to do with it!" yelled Robin.
"Oh, doesn't it? The only reason you joined that group of scum was because of her."
"That's not true!"
"Isn't it?"
"I joined because I wanted to fight against tyranny and bring justice to the people: something you wouldn't understand, Gisburne," replied Robin in fury.
"What I don't understand is why an earl's son would give up his land, fortune and title to join a bunch of cutthroats unless it was for her. Though why you should think it was worth it--"
"You've never cared about anyone in your life, have you? I don't even think you've ever cared about yourself! You're so heartless, cruel and arrogant! If
you're going to drink to something, drink to that!" Robin stated, thumping the wine jug down in front of Gisburne. He started to walk away, adding, "I'd watch
my back if I were you."
"Is that a threat?" said Gisburne.
"Not from me," stated Robin, who promptly left the hall. Gisburne poured himself another drink.
"To being heartless, cruel and arrogant then," he toasted. He raised the cup to his lips, draining it of every last red drop.
"Guy," spoke a voice. The knight glanced down and saw a skinny, bald-headed man before him. Gulnar grinned and this time the wine cup did fall from Guy's hand.
The clatter of the cup as it hit the table wasn't even heard by Guy, though Gulnar noted it and clapped. He slinked towards the knight, coming quite close. Gisburne flinched unwillingly and moved back.
"Do you fear me?" questioned Gulnar.
"No," responded Guy, though his voice shook a little. Gulnar slithered away from the table, but made sure to keep Gisburne within the range of his fire.
"What do you want here? Why have you come here?" inquired Gisburne, who suddenly felt terribly sober again.
"I came in search of you, my lord."
"Me?" queried Guy, rather tremulously. He cleared his throat and did what he could to disguise his fear. "I thought you spent your time with witches and harlots, not knights, er...or earl's sons," he proclaimed with forced bravado.
"An earl's son? You're not an earl's son," sneered Gulnar.
"What do you mean?" asked Gisburne, who had just assumed that the sorceror was as ignorant of his true identity as everyone else.
"I know exactly who and what you are," said Gulnar. "As I should. I brought you here."
"Brought me? Oh yes, are you still pretending to have brought me back from the dead? I'm not sure who's more mad: you, Marion, that wolfshead, or me for listening to any of you!"
"It is you, Guy. Not because you are listening, but because you are not hearing any of us. I did bring you back from the dead. Marion had nothing to do with
it. She thought that we were bringing back Guy of Huntington, but we both know differently don't we, Gisburne?"
Guy felt a cold iron grip inside of him at the sound of his real name coming from Gulnar's lips.
"So he was lying...This isn't a different time! You wouldn't have known my real name if it was!"
"Why should I persist in calling you by a name that isn't yours?"
"Indeed," agreed Gisburne.
"And why should I allow you to remain free when you are, and always shall be, my servant." The iron grip tightened.
"What?"
"I am your master, Guy of Gisburne. You are mine."
"I'm a free man. I don't belong to anyone," protested the knight.
"You are nothing more than a slave now, Gisburne. You are a slave because you possess nothing here. You are only possessed. Even your own body is not yours.
It belongs to another."
"That's nonsense!" gasped Guy. "You don't know what you're saying!"
"I know," hissed Gulnar. He glided back to Gisburne, a sharp, bony finger digging into his chest. Guy felt his breath catch in his throat and, for a
moment, thought he might choke. The sorcerer glared up at Gisburne and, although the knight towered over him, Gulnar was not the one to feel dwarfed.
"I know," continued Gulnar, in the same serpent's drawl. "I saw your time. I know who you really are. I know that your true body lies across an executioner's block!" The finger dug painfully deeper into Guy's chest. "I know that you betrayed me."
"Betrayed you?" whispered Guy.
"Yes. And you betrayed Fenris. You broke faith with us. You only joined us to save yourself. You never had any true allegiance to us." Gisburne squirmed, trying to escape from the sorcerer's grip.
"I saw my death," stated Gulnar, holding tighter. "The death you helped bring upon me!" Guy tried to back away. "Are you repulsed by me, or the fact that I know the truth?"
"I didn't kill you!"
"Then how did you know I was dead? How were you so certain that I was dead?"
"I didn't kill you!"
"You owe your life to me because you took mine away. You took mine away when I worked with that stupid wench, Lilith, to bring yours back! Do you wish to hear about it?" Gisburne shook his head. "I said do you want to hear about it?" repeated Gulnar.
"I don't want to hear anything you have to say!" Gulnar flattened his hand against the knight's chest and pushed him into the Sheriff's chair with a
force that Gisburne couldn't remember experiencing with even his strongest opponents. He looked up at Gulnar with all the stunned wonder a child might possess towards a bully.
Gulnar began to tell him everything about the previous night's adventures. Gulnar told him about his pact with Marion, Guy of Huntington's death and the
ritual they had used to resurrect Guy of Huntington from the dead. But this time, Gulnar included those details he had kept from Marion and Lilith about the slip of parchment he had pushed into Guy's mouth. This slip of parchment had contained the spell to transport Gisburne's soul to this time and into Guy of
Huntington's body. Like Gulnar's man of clay, it had turned a dead body into a living one.
And Gulnar didn't stop there. He told Guy about Marion's plans for him to become leader of the Lords of Darkness and head servant to the demon Azael.
"But when they finish with you," spoke Gulnar, "your body will not be sacrificed to Azael. It will be sacrificed to Fenris."
"No! You're insane! I'm not going anywhere with you!" shouted Gisburne.
"You belong to me. I am your master. I control you body and soul. You will obey me."
"I won't obey you! You can't make me do anything!"
"Oh, can't I?" questioned Gulnar, and he gave a wicked smile.
