The Journey To Acre

Chapter 24

On the third day in Acre, Vaisey died.

Since he was to be put to death anyway, his jailors didn't see the point in treating his injury so the wound was left to fester.

Guy figured he was in a bad way because he'd quit yelling insults at him. What he didn't know was that his cell neighbour had at some point slipped into a coma and the next time he'd be seeing him was when they dragged out the body.

It shouldn't have been a shock really - Vaisey was flesh and blood like any other, but it was utterly surreal for Guy to see the most powerful man in his world reduced to a lifeless heap. It didn't seem right somehow - that he should go so quietly; it wasn't his style - kicking and screaming all the way to the gallows would've been more fitting, perhaps a snide comment or two for his favourite dogsbody before they both swing...

He suddenly feels more alone than he's ever felt in his life, because his master's death means he'll have no company in his final hours and it wasn't as if Vaisey was any help in dealing with the stress (quite the contrary) but it had consoled him a little to know that at least somebody would be with him on that final walk to the scaffold.

His thoughts turn to Marian, as they so often do, and he wonders if she knows. If she and her friends are celebrating Vaisey's demise. If they plan to watch when it's his turn to go. He wonders what she has told them of her time on the boat, if she thinks of those weeks and months at all... or of him... if she knows that the hours he spent with her there made him happier than he ever had any right to be...

He shakes his head because he doubts she thinks of any of that, indeed, she probably doesn't have time, what with getting reacquainted with her friends... and Robin...

The thought of her with him depresses him immeasurably and yet it would be foolish to deny the inevitable. They were probably in the midst of wedding plans this very moment - it would no doubt be a large affair, what with Locksley being a show off, and perhaps the king would give Marian away, god knows she deserves it after putting in a good word for him all those times on the boat.

All's well that ends well...

He sighs and tends to his wounded hand, though he doesn't quite know why. Perhaps it was because secretly he was a sentimental soul and he'd promised Sully he'd hang on. Then there was the flask of alcohol that Sully had secreted on his person before his arrest – a parting gift that had clearly made all the difference when it came to avoiding sepsis in the dank conditions. He smiles fondly when he thinks of his friend who has saved his life in so many ways and continues to save what's left of it on a daily basis – the memories of the plainspoken carpenter and his plucky cat sustaining him through many an endless hour in the dungeons of Acre.

And then there was Marian...

He keeps telling himself not to torture himself like this because it will do no good, but how can he not think of her? How can he not think of the love of his life, knowing as he does that he'll soon be dead? He pictures her in the garden at Locksley playing with her children - perhaps one of each; a little boy who likes to play swordfighting and a little girl who is as lively and fierce as her mother, who enjoys stories of great adventures across the sea... and perhaps one day there will be a mention of a man who went on one of those adventures with her, who wasn't a good man but tried to be better, who loved her with all his heart and would've died for her, whose last deed on earth was to send a prayer up to the heavens for her...

He doubts it will happen but likes to pretend. It comforts him to think that in some small way he might live on through her. Otherwise, he has to face the fact that this is where the Gisborne line ends and that is something he despairs to contemplate. So he hangs on to the hope that for all the misery he caused, he went someway to making it up to her in those weeks and months on the Mary Peel. That she can forgive him. Maybe even think fondly of him...