Sir Guy of Gisborne's Diary

Entry 15

My arm is still smarting where the sheriff burned it with that horrible Saracen brew courtesy of Hood's rescued gang member, Djaq. I'm also still smarting over the fact that I didn't notice the Saracen had boobs. Small of cup size they may be, but I really should have noticed them when the outlaws gatecrashed my party.

Talking of burned things, this past week I came very close to having a lot more than a scolded arm. In fact, I was lucky not to be burned to a crisp.

It all started at the Treeton Mines when my friend Lambert demonstrated the power of Greek fire to the sheriff. I say friend, but he was more of an acquaintance really. It seemed that he thought of me as a friend, however, as he always addressed me as Guy. I'll freely admit I only ever knew him as Lambert and have no idea whether that was his first or last name. Anyway, I called him friend because on the few occasions we met, I felt comfortable enough to confide in him about my unhappy childhood and, one time, he listened for a whole hour without laughing.

The idea - my idea - was to use the explosive capability of the black powder to increase production in the mines without endangering lives. Actually that was just the cover story I gave to Lambert for I soon realised that this Greek fire would be of great interest to the sheriff and that we could use it for our own ends.

Unfortunately, Lambert decided that he did not trust Vaisey and after the demonstration changed his mind about selling the powder and the formula to us. This culminated in him being chucked in our dungeons. To be honest, I did feel sorry for Lambert and wished I'd never introduced him to the sheriff.

Vaisey told me I was off the project. So angry! It's been ages since I've been given a project I could get my teeth into. The last time that happened was shortly after Vaisey and I arrived in Nottingham, disposed of Edward, Marian's father, and took up residence in the castle. I was given the task of re-designing the Great Hall along with our living quarters. I made paper mache models, painted them, even decked them out with little paper people. I still get them out from under the bed from time to time and have a little play, though the last time I did this was when I was in a strop about something or other that the sheriff had done to me and in a fury, I tore off Vaisey's head.

Right, where was I? Oh, yes, Lambert.

Things took a slight turn for the better when we arrested one of Hood's men, the simpleton, Much.

This, I proudly told the sheriff, is one of Hood's inner circle, his right hand man. The sheriff was unimpressed. I suggested that we hang the man, but the sheriff had other ideas and decided to dub him the Earl of Bonchurch. I know, completely bonkers. It was a scheme, of course. The sheriff always has schemes. I profess that half of the time I don't actually get them, though I always pretend that I do for fear of looking stupid. I certainly didn't get this one and I was livid that he'd just given away a piece of my Locksley estate. Watching the simpleton donning lordly robes was the last straw and I took my leave of the sheriff and headed outside. Marian found me quietly fuming in the courtyard.

It was my project, I told her, all but stamping my foot, and the sheriff took it away from me. She suggested I rescue Lambert and take him to a place of safety - Kirklees - after which I could work on finding out where the ledger that contains the black powder formula was. I was about to say don't be so stupid, but then she touched my arm and I went all gooey inside and agreed to it. Honestly, if she'd only touch me a bit more I'd agree to anything, and if she'd touch a certain part of me, and a most impressive part I might add, I'd even agree to killing the sheriff and repainting the castle pink.

I never got the chance to carry out Marian's plan because the sheriff found out from his spy, Eve (pretending to be a servant at Bonchurch), that Lambert had told Hood where the ledger was and Hood had taken it and hidden it somewhere. So the sheriff stabbed Lambert to death.

Marian was most distressed and I'll admit even I got a lump in my throat. I tried to tell her that it had everything to do with loyalty, though the truth is it also had a lot to do with me keeping in the sheriff's good books lest my new leather man-bag go the way of Mr Paws and dolly Marian.

I met Marian again after a ridiculous council of nobles meeting where the sheriff spent much of the time neighing like a horse - something to do with making fun of Hood's manservant who'd been invited to give his thoughts on the new plough tax to which he said nay. I was about to offer my impression of a sow in labour when I cottoned on to the fact that the sheriff was taking the mickey. Thank God I held my tongue.

I met Marian afterwards in one of the castle corridors. I noticed she was not wearing her betrothal ring. I was angry, especially since I'd spent half a day raking through forest leaves looking for the damn thing after dropping it during the punch up with Hood. I explained to her that I had had no choice in the Lambert matter. She said she would wear the ring again but that we would never find ourselves in a similar situation and that everything was back in its box, whatever that means.

The whole day ended disastrously, as so many of my days seem to.

Hood, thanks to Eve's treachery, tricked us over the ledger and I unwittingly led him straight to the cave where I'd hidden the three barrels of Lambert's black powder. As always, Hood was one step ahead of me. Hidden from view, he had waited for us to arrive. As I was above to begin moving the powder, Hood sent a flaming arrow towards the cave. The resulting explosion flattened me and singed my leathers. I've never been so humiliated. (Actually, I have, dozens of times.)

So, dear diary that was my week. A not good one by all accounts. I lost a sort of friend. I probably won't get touched by Marian again for ages. I've further reinforced the notion that I'm a fool and I have slightly melted leathers. And to top it all, I have no idea where this box is that Marian spoke of. I shall ask her next time I see her.