A Chance To Believe In More.

Fear, Despair and a New Found Peace

It would be days before Gwen would see her new ally and she had to admit, she missed His company.

In that one meeting, he'd got under her skin. She'd let him in, and she knew he'd certainly started to let her see the real Guy of Gisborne and he was a nice, gentle and highly fragile man behind that curled lip and moody stare. She'd done her best as had every page and serving girl to keep the Sheriff in good spirits, something was occurring, there was talk of Prince John coming to Nottingham and if that was the case, it wouldn't bear well for the residents of the area.

She ran everywhere bringing everything the senior members of the household staff needed, her feet were aching and her hands almost raw to the bone. Sleep became a luxury she didn't have time to take and exhaustion was making her ache, Gwen knew she was close to breaking down and crying but tears wouldn't help her, getting through this night would be the only way.

Tonight was the night it appeared for grand visitors as the Sheriff ordered that the castle be spotless, all grates to have fires burning in them and it was believed, the cells beneath the castle to be full of ruffians to be have their necks stretched. Innocent men and boys were down there now knowing that this would be their last day on Earth. Her dress had been washed and her hair hidden once more – why she made the effort as she placed the bland of embroidered flowers through it was beyond her but nevertheless as she saw herself in the reflection of the small fragment of the looking glass, she smiled. She felt pretty, though she hoped her change would not draw the attention of the Prince and his entourage.

Walking into the Hall she saw the long tables and benches laid out, wine and ale was set out throughout them and the nobles were in the finest clothes, everything screamed wealth which even Gwen had to admit was ironic as the Sheriff was notorious for trying to hide the fact there was any money in Nottingham – something that was becoming truer by the week. Villagers were starving, grain was becoming sparse as the Sheriff demanded it along with money to come to him and the man, Sir Guy of Gisborne, who she wanted to know more about, was the one often sent to reclaim the taxes no matter the cost. It was no wonder that his blue eyes were haunted, the things the Sheriff made him do coupled with the betrayal of Lady Marian had altered him irrevocably.

The noise was deafening, musicians were playing on lutes to keep the nobles entertained but no one was listening, all eyes were on the chair the Sheriff normally sat at – he was sitting to the right of it tonight, making it perfectly clear as to where he stood with the visitor. Sir Guy was standing behind the sheriff, the look of boredom etched over his face and his eyes boring into everyone if they passed his line of vision. Gwen as a servant could not raise her eyes to meet his but that didn't stop the feeling of his eyes on her as she moved to ensure all the nobles some fifty or so at this table had wine and ale at all times. Food was starting to find it's way to the floor and to the Irish wolfhounds that seemed to go hand in hand with being a noble in these parts, she knew that it wasn't seemed to be acceptable for nobility to clear their plates but surely that didn't mean eat worse than animals? The noise quickly stopped as the sound of footsteps was heard and the announcement that all knew was coming was heard clearly. His Majesty, Prince John was there. Gwen' eyes never left the floor from that moment, she was already trying to avoid the eyes of the Baron de Belleme a man she had heard was in league with the Devil – his eyes terrified her, so dark and menacing she feared that he could turn her into some beast if she was found looking at him. The rumours of such things were rife around the servants areas. She escaped down to the cellars for probably the sixth time that night only to find herself coming face to face with the Master of Arms as she went to come upstairs and return to the hall and the drunken nobles celebrating their ability to destroy lives for their own advancement with the Prince – who it was clear was enjoying the power and strong hold he had on England in the absence of the Lion Heart.