Guy of Gisburne watched his enemies argue heatedly, dazed and confused about what was going on. There were so many questions filling his head, but none of these questions were being answered because he was being ignored. He hated that.
Why had they brought him here? Was he their prisoner? Who was behind all of this? Gulnar or that wolfshead? Was this another mad plan involving
that wolf demon, Fenris, or a plot of revenge hatched by Robin Hood and the outlaws? If it was the latter, then why was only Marion here and not the others? And what could they possibly gain by capturing him? For that matter, how had they captured him? The last thing he could remember was placing his head
down on the execution block.
Despite the jumbled array of images he last remembered in a mind edged with fear, he could swear that he had heard Brewer give the order to kill him. He even thought that he could remember the icy chill of the executioner's axe as it swung down. The hairs on the back of his neck tingled at the memory of it.
"I demand to know what's going on here?" he stated furiously, interrupting his enemies' angry exchange. "What's happening? Why have I been brought here? Where is that wolfshead, Marion? If I don't start getting some answers quickly, I shall have no choice but to force them from you! So are you going to tell me what's happening or not?" Marion froze, becoming increasingly alarmed at the whole change in his voice and manner.
"What have you done to him?" she questioned again, this time speaking only in a sharp whisper.
"My lady, I swear that I did nothing more than what you bid me to do," answered Lilith, who was beginning to feel a little anxious about all of this.
"If you should question anyone, it should be him," she added, waving a hand at Gulnar.
"Well?" demanded Marion.
"I don't care whose fault it is!" shouted Gisburne before the sorcerer could answer. "I don't even know what you're talking about!"
"My lord, you should rest," spoke Marion wearily.
"Rest? How am I supposed to rest around here? You only want me to rest so you can kill me!"
"Kill you? I've risked everything tonight trying to save you!"
"Save me? For almost as long as I've known you, you and those wolfsheads have been trying to kill me!"
"But I only met you tonight!"
"You're possessed if you think that, Marion. We've been enemies for years."
"But that's ridiculous, my lord. Why would I be your enemy?"
"Because you're a wolfshead!"
"I am not a wolfshead. I am Marion, Baroness de Belleme," said Marion firmly.
"And I'm Queen Guinevere," commented Gisburne in such a sarcastic tone that Lilith couldn't help giggling.
"Shall I fetch him a dress?" she joked.
"Get out!" screamed Marion, her cheeks flushing almost as brightly as her hair.
"Yes, my lady," murmured Lilith, who actually blanched. She and Gulnar quickly backed out of the crypt, leaving the Baroness and Gisburne alone.
Gisburne stared at Marion, completely taken aback. He had never seen her look that angry before. Someone must have possessed her and that someone must have been Gulnar. Yes, Gulnar could possess anyone, reasoned Gisburne, remembering his own frightening experience with the sorcerer.
Gulnar had possessed Marion and for some reason had wanted her to believe that she was Belleme's wife. Maybe it was a part of Gulnar's spell over her.
His enchantment over Marion was why she was acting so strangely. It was why she seemed to insist that he was this Guy of Huntington.
Well, she could shout as much as she wanted. He knew how to shout too. He could shout louder than anyone he knew. However, Marion didn't shout anymore. When she did speak to him at last, her tone was calm and quiet again.
"My lord," she spoke gently, gracing him with her kindest smile, "I don't wish to harm you. I only wish to help. Do you believe me when I tell you this?"
Did he? He couldn't trust her if his life depended on it! And unfortunately, by the look of things, it did.
"My lord, something is troubling you. It would help if you spoke about it. You might feel better if you do," she suggested. But Gisburne was barely listening. What was he going to do? He had to get out of Belleme Castle. That was what he had to do! But where could he go? If he went to Nottingham Castle, the Sheriff would personally see to it that his head was put back on the block. If he went anywhere else, the Sheriff might still see to it that he was arrested and executed.
"I'm going," stated Guy, deciding that the risk he was taking was worth it. Anything was better than being stuck in Belleme Castle with a possessed
woman and a sorcerer! He pushed his way past Marion, but she didn't appear to be too happy about this. Her hand latched on to his arm.
"I said," he repeated coldly, "I'm going."
"But, my lord, you can't leave," she protested, gripping his arm even tighter.
"And why not?" questioned Guy, trying to keep his temper long enough not to explode.
"You're still not well enough. You should--"
"I'm fine!" snarled Gisburne. "Marion, let go of me!"
"All right. Yes, all right," she replied hastily, watching nervously as his mood became darker and darker still. She slowly released his arm.
"Good. I'm glad you've been taught to obey something," said Gisburne, managing a very thin smile. He started to walk away, but then gave another growl of anger as Marion's hand fell on his arm again.
"WHAT?" he exploded.
"You may go anywhere you wish, my lord, but I'm coming with you," answered Marion. Guy shook his head vehemently.
"No, you'll stay here!" he ordered in his best military style of command. Marion ignored him.
"You're going to Sherwood, aren't you?"
"Sherwood? Now why would I do that?"
"You keep talking of Sherwood, Robin Hood and outlaws. You even accused me of being one! Is that where you wish to go, my lord?" she questioned earnestly.
"I don't care about that wolfshead! I have enough to worry about without getting mixed up with him!"
"Then where is it you wish to go?" Gisburne hesitated, then threw up his hands in despair.
"I don't know," he grumbled. He pulled away from his adversary, sliding down to the ground. Marion sat down beside him, watching him with a puzzled glance
as he placed his head in his hands. "Leave me alone," he growled, sensing that she was staring at him.
"But you do want to go to Sherwood, don't you?" she persisted, unwilling to give up just yet. "If we went to Sherwood, I could prove to you that I'm not an outlaw. Then, you would trust me."
"Ha! Trust you?" came the muffled reply through his hands.
"But if we went to Sherwood, we could rid Nottingham of this wolfshead once and for all!" she cried enthusiastically. Gisburne shook his head. She had gone mad. She had truly gone mad.
"No," he began. "I..." Then he hesitated, wondering if maybe her idea wasn't such a bad one after all. He would have Marion with him, who had proved to be a valuable bargaining piece in the past. It wouldn't matter to that wolfshead if she was possessed or mad. The miserable fool loved her. He would do almost anything to save her even, and Gisburne had to smile at this, throw his own life
away to preserve her.
With Marion as a hostage, Robin Hood would have to surrender himself to Gisburne. Then Gisburne could deliver the outlaw to the King and be pardoned.
Yes, and perhaps he would even be the next High Sheriff of Nottingham. Once he had won the King's favour with Robin Hood's capture, Robert de Rainault would be the one with his head on the block!
"Are we going to Sherwood then?" asked Marion, almost as if reading his thoughts.
"Yes, yes, all right! We'll go to Sherwood!" he snapped. God's Teeth, she's as stubborn as a mule, he thought, remembering the words the Sheriff had once used to describe her. And she's as stupid as one too, he mused pleasantly, as they both rose and headed out of the castle.
Chapter Five
Loxley sat silently, watching the fire glow against the darkness of the night. His companions slept peacefully around him. He had tried to sleep
but found that it was impossible. The words he had shared with Herne were still etched deeply in his mind.
"But I am your son," he had protested.
"There is another."
"Another?"
"Yes. He will come to the forest to be my son and do my bidding, and he will lead you until the Wheel turns again. When he comes, you will know and
understand his power and you shall bring him to me."
Another son. No matter how hard Loxley stared into the thin orange and yellow flames, he couldn't forget the words. As he watched the fire hungrily devour twigs and branches, he could feel a painful emptiness inside him. It was as if the flames were devouring his heart as well.
He had failed Herne. That was why Herne needed another son.
He wondered if the powers of Light and Darkness had ever truly been with him, or if it had all been a mistake. Had everything they had done been for
nothing? Was their quest to help the poor and oppressed nothing but a farce? The people of Nottingham seemed to think so; there was laughter heard whenever someone spoke his name.
Herne seemed to think so, for there was the prophecy he had given.
Loxley had promised to follow Herne's wishes, althought he had been unwilling to relinquish his title.
Herne was his master. Loxley had sworn to obey him. However, as Loxley looked down at his sleeping friends, he couldn't help wondering how much longer that would last.
He rose, suddenly feeling cold despite the warmth of the fire. He wrapped his blanket of fur around himself tightly and decided that he would try to get some sleep. After all, he and the others were planning a raid tomorrow. If they were to have any chance of succeeding, they would need all the sleep they could get. It was hard enough for them to rob anyone when they were awake! Loxley sighed. No wonder the people of Nottingham laughed. He sometimes felt
halfway between laughing and crying himself.
He was about to kneel down to extinguish the fire, believing there was no point in keeping flames that provided no warmth when he turned, sensing
something other than trees behind him.
"Robin," spoke a voice, and a young man stepped forward. Loxley studied the face, trying to remember where he had seen it before. The man's fair, golden hair was tinged red like the flames of the fire, his pale, blue eyes sparkling from some strong source of energy that came from within. Loxley saw the hope and strength he had been missing, the young man's smile yielding the confidence he could never acquire. And there wasn't just confidence in that smile, but warmth of spirit as well.
"You're the one," stated Loxley.
"The one?"
"My successor...Herne's son."
"I..." began the other man, hesitating. But then he grasped at his courage and looked Loxley straight in the eyes.
"Yes," he replied. "I'm Herne's son."
"Come with me," said Loxley.
Robin allowed Loxley to lead him to Herne's cave although he knew that he could probably guide himself blind which, at night, was what he practically
was. But they both knew and understood the forest better than anyone and the steps they took were sure.
How many times had Loxley travelled through the huge and towering trees of the forest, or across the dark, still waters of the lake to meet the forest god? How many times had Loxley heard him speak the words of a prophecy, the words of a riddle he could not understand? How many quests had Loxley set out on, carrying the powers of Light and Darkness on his shoulders? For that matter, wondered Robin, how many times had he done all of these things himself?
He's so young, thought Robin. He had momentarily forgotten that Loxley was about the same age as he was, if not older. However, he could still hear Loxley questioning his own competence and abilities and whether his strength and courage as a leader had been true. Had he truly earned the right to be Herne's son? Was this right about to be taken away, along with his title?
Robin could understand Loxley's concerns perfectly. He had felt them himself many times. Robin knew that if he ever returned to his proper time, he would probably experience these same concerns again. If he ever managed to return again...
"We're almost there," stated the present Robin Hood, breaking through his companion's thoughts. "See there? Through that tree? That's Herne's cave."
"Yes, I see it. I think I can find my way from here. Thank you." Loxley gave a brief nod, his eyes wild and lost for a moment. Then he turned away and
was gone, disappearing quickly into the night.
"I will not steal this from him," vowed Robin. "No matter what happens, he is still Herne's son; he is still Robin Hood."
* * * *
Robin listened to the echo of his footfalls as he made his way down the dark passage. Light flickered in the distance. Robin was certain that its source had to be the Sacred Fire.
Herne would be there waiting for him, but would this be the same Herne he had come to know? Robin entered the cave, deciding that it was time to find out. However, Robin paused at the entrance, watching Herne's shadow as it cast itself, huge against the cold, damp wall. Then Robin gathered up his courage again and walked forward to greet the man in front of him. They eyed one another for a moment and then Herne's strong hands clasped Robin
by the shoulders.
"Good. You have come. We must act quickly, Robin. The Wheel will soon turn again. You must be prepared," spoke Herne, and Robin was vastly relieved to see that at least Herne hadn't changed with the Wheel's turning.
"What happened, Herne?" he asked. "Why is everything so different now? I only wanted to save the people of Wickham from dying, not change time altogether." Herne smiled, but it was with a sense of forlornness.
"You ask questions that require too many answers. Come," he said. They moved closer to the fire. "Take the cup and drink," he commanded. Robin
took the chalice from the stone altar in front of him and sipped from it, prepared for the strange burning sensation of the drug as it spread through
him. He then braced himself and made ready to look into the fire. But Herne stopped him.
"The answers you seek will not be found in the flame's light. See the pool of water lying on the altar?" asked Herne. Robin nodded, taking in the
plain wooden bowl. "It is there that you will find your answers. It is there that you will see the reflection of yourself and the flame's light. The Sacred Fire holds knowledge of the past, as well as the future. The true time will be a reflection of this one. The knowledge of the Sacred Fire will guide you."
"Draw your eyes upon the water. Focus your thoughts to the time that existed before the Wheel turned and what should have been this time, but was
not. Let your thoughts fly free and unfettered! Let your mind travel on the ripples of the water and carry you where you must go..."
Robin allowed himself to be drawn and then transported by the ripples. The simple wooden bowl seemed to grow ten times larger. Robin could see his
face turn ugly and grotesque as it was reflected in the huge circle in front of him. It shimmered for a moment, then slowly disappeared under the smooth
darkness of the water. The bright, yellow flames of the Sacred Fire rose to replace it. The flames were all he could see. They filled his entire vision until the gentle flow of the water returned again and the flames were calm. Then, it was as Herne had said. Robin let his thoughts float on top of the water, the slow ripples flowing deeper and deeper into his mind. **
From the depths of the water, an image began to form. It took Robin several seconds to discern what it was. Then, he saw the trees of a forest and a boy holding a bow at his side. It was Much: a younger Much, in fact, and the forest he was in was Sherwood. Much raised the bow, taking an arrow from his quiver and releasing it. It struck a deer.
The deer's wide, terrified eyes were all Robin could see for a few seconds, before the image was washed away by the water. The deer's eyes became
Robin of Loxley's eyes as he looked at the slain animal. Next, Robin could see Loxley walking angrily to some bushes to haul out the frightened boy. They
were arguing as Robin hoisted the body of the deer over his shoulders and searched for a place to hide it...
The vision faded and Robin almost gasped as he gazed into the cold, unfeeling eyes of Guy of Gisburne. The knight was with a small party of
soldiers. Gisburne's horse moved and the soldiers were thundering down a hill and into the glade below...
The vision of the horses racing past dissolved and melted away and Loxley and Much were running frantically from the soldiers. They were soon surrounded on all sides, a triumphant Gisburne gloating down at them from his mount...
Everything was replaced by darkness. Loxley and Much were in the dungeon at Nottingham Castle. A figure stepped into the light. It was Scarlet, accompanied by two other men. One by one their hands fell on top of Loxley's. Their eager faces peered through the grime of the dungeon, out of the grille and into the light...
Loxley and his friends were flooding into the courtyard, soldiers running to attack them. They fought off the ones they could and ran towards
the portcullis, everyone escaping but Loxley...
Gisburne was chasing his quarry, his sword waving in his hand. Loxly ran back into the castle...
The stone walls forming the outside of the castle transformed into the inner walls of a chamber. Loxley was staring at a startled girl. She looked as boldly as she could at the intruder. Marion...
Her deep hazel eyes turned into pools of water that merged into the vision of a pond. Beside the pond was a mill. It was the mill Much's father had once owned...
Gisburne was there questioning the miller. The men were arguing. Gisburne's sword was out and, in an instant, the man was dead...
Blood seemed to pass across the water in the bowl. It blocked out everything until Robin could see the vision of Much sobbing in the trees. Then, a shield of mist covered the images Robin had seen. Robin felt himself being slowly released from the strong pull of the water and the hold of the Sacred Fire. He found himself looking into the same wooden bowl he had started with. Shocked, he realized that the reflection staring back at him wasn't his own.
Robin gave a start and backed away from the altar.
"What did you see?" questioned Herne, taking Robin by the shoulders again.
"At first, I thought it was me but when I looked closer...I don't know who it was...It should have been me but it wasn't..."
"You will find out soon enough. Rest now and return here by nightfall. Go now and Blessed Be," spoke Herne. Robin did not argue with him or insist on staying. His head ached and he suddenly felt exhausted. He was also frustrated that his visions had ended before he had learned more. Even more disheartening was the fact that he didn't understand these visions at all.
** The following images are lifted straight from the first episode of Robin of Sherwood, "Robin Hood and the Sorceror," written by Richard Carpenter.
