I did all I could to please the Sheriff. My body ached from the work I did and my thoughts never stopped, sleep never came easily to me since that night so many months ago when Sir Guy had sat at my side sleeping. He was all I thought of and yet, I knew it was foolish.

Sir Guy of Gisborne was and is a man so much higher than me. He was a man of noble birth and I was a common girl, someone to be used, to be worked to death. I was replaceable and easily so as the Sheriff and indeed the man who haunted what sleep I did get, the Baron.

When I got time away from the many errands I ran, I went to the stream and walked through the cool waters, recalling the first time Sir Guy had spoken to me in his soft and gentle tones. I stood here now, my feet bare as I walked through the damp grass, my arm was painful, the Baron once more had focussed his cold stare on me and I had panicked... the fine shirts belonging to the Sheriff I had been carrying fell to the ground and as I tried to stop them, the Baron had taken hold of me, I fought with every fibre of my being but that hadn't saved me, the flame of a candle touched my skin and as I screamed in pain he has stared into my eyes, the look within them making my heart stop.

God help me... this man would bring my death. I prayed as I lay down to sleep under the stars for Sir Guy to keep his word, to save me.

I lay there feeling the warmth of the covers around me and listened to him move on the chair by the fire. Guilt consumed me, he was weary and I didn't deserve to be where I was. The guilt however was for the feelings of comfort I had being in his presence.

I watched him quietly, barely breathing in case he knew I was awake and told me to leave. I was content here, I could see the man who was going to keep me safe from the Sheriff and from the Baron. The cold fear even thinking about him nearly causing me to whimper out. I thought over his words, I was to move to serve him, did that mean I was to leave the castle and return to his homestead in Loxley? As much as the idea of being away from the men who terrified me, I couldn't bring myself to be that far away from Sir Guy.

Feeling sleep finally claim me, I whispered out a prayer to keep us both safe as I looked at the man in the chair and tried to calm my beating heart.

I tried to sleep... sat in that chair by the hearth..the fire crackling and the furs closely wrapped around me. I'd periodically check that Gwen was sleeping. I had no cause to alarm her. I wanted to protect her.

I wondered if the Sheriff having maybe sensed my fondness for this girl had sent me on a fools errand and left her to face the kind of punishment he revelled in so heartily. Making others suffer for his personal gratification. The fact that he was entertaining the Baron only made this assumption loiter even more on my mind as each hour passed and daylight grew nearer.

Tomorrow I would set about finding a way to keep her hidden from his view. I did not know how, or why I felt compelled to do this. Only that it was for my benefit as much as it were for hers.

The Sheriff plagued my daylight hours and my nightmares. I longed for freedom, for my little place of freedom when I'd seen him.

I did as I was bid, carrying flagons of wine that were often far too heavy and awkward for my little hands to hold properly but it mattered little to the man dressed in furs whose red cheeks showed his level of drunkenness was far beyond his ability to see reason. If the good Sheriff Vasey even knew the concept of reason though... I would have been amazed. I kept my eyes lowered as I moved around the many drunken men, it didn't pay to lift them and catch the eye of one, you'd be as good as dead or lying in their bed if you did.

I didn't know if he was there, if the man whose smile was helping to break the nightmares apart was standing on the dais with the Sheriff as he normally did. I felt someone watching me but surely it wasn't him. Sir Guy had been kind it was true but I knew my place, and it was not to be a friend of a man such as him. I was too far beneath him, he was Master of Arms and I was nothing, if not worse than that.

Then there was the crash... my musing over him had led to a disaster for me and outrage from a drunken noble, a man I didn't recognize and worse still I would face the wrath of the Sheriff. I'd fallen forward over a discarded bone perhaps and knocked the flagon I'd been carrying to the floor...

I heard him scream at someone to get me out of there and before a hand could touch me, I ran. I knew it was foolish but I wanted to escape even for a few brief seconds rather than be dragged out of there like an animal.

Over the years I'd become accustomed to the ways of the Sheriff. Still, I could not shake the ghosts of my past and those of Marian who stalked my sleep and invaded my dreams.
It had been Five years since the countless betrayals and false promises of the woman I loved.. Marian, the love of my life.

I'd resigned myself now to that loveless life of servitude and obedience begrudgingly fulfilling my promise to my late Mother. As much as this pained me daily it also brought its own rewards, ones of politics and power, fear and compliance.

I grew weary and suspicious of any female company preferring my own or none. "Women" Vasey would cackle "Slyer than Dogs Gisborne!  and much less faithful" what did Vasey know? Had he ever felt like his soul would shatter into a thousand pieces rather than then lose the most precious thing in the world he wanted so desperately to possess and to care for?

So how did I find myself here? After a few fleeting moments with a girl barely 18 years of age. Why did I feel the soft warmth of a smile as it crept over my lips, and more importantly who was she? and what would she become to me?

There are many who wonder about the Master of Arms, Sir Guy of Gisborne. Namely wondering if today was their day to be on the receiving end of his wrath. I was different, I wanted to see if his eyes really did sparkle when he smiled, which he did rarely but one could hope. Of course, there was a catch to all of this - I was one the girls paid a pittance to keep the hallways clean, the goblets full and the men content though thankfully the last task was one I'd escaped from and I had every intention of keeping it that way.

I'd seen him maybe a handful of times and the man who stood a full head and shoulders over everyone else with his black attire, hair and piercing blue eyes had piqued my overly curious mind. I wanted to know if the man who scared so many could be someone entirely different to how he was perceived by those around him. It was idle fantasy, if I ever found myself before him - I'd be there because I'd done something wrong...

Twelve moons have waxed and waned, — the infant year
Hath wept her tears into the violet's bell,
Recalling them in sweetness — summer fair
Hath pierced the bottom of the forest dell,
And left a smile there; and the moaning swell
Of autumn gales has made the green leaf sear;
And wintry tempests rung creation's knell,
And shrouded her in snows, since withering care
Threw o'er my dearest themes oblivion and despair.


Sherwood Forest
Robert Millhouse