Sir Guy of Gisborne's Diary

Entry 18

Good news! I made sixteen loaves of bread this morning (from the grain that should have been sacks of coin) and nearly all of them were edible. Those that weren't (I forgot to add yeast, I burned them to a crisp, etc) I gave to the guards as a little addition to the rat stew on tonight's menu.

Actually, that wasn't the good news I wanted to write about.

This is the good news - The king is returning to England!!!!!!!!! What's more, he's coming to Nottingham. I can marry Marian. Yippee!

After learning of these glad tidings, I hurriedly saddled my horse (so hurriedly that I didn't fit the saddle securely on Brutus's back and a mile out of Locksley it slipped sideways and I fell off and landed in a puddle). To be honest, I could have fallen in Locksley pond or even the River Trent and my spirits would not have been broken, for I was in love and rushing to see my bride to be. Thinking about it, though, perhaps my spirits would have been broken had I landed in either pond or river because I can't swim.

Happily, leather dries fast in the sun and that day (and rightly so) the sun was shining gaily, the birds were singing, insects were buzzing and butterflies were dancing prettily in the light breeze. See how happy and in love I am! Normally, I hate the sun in my eyes, the dawn chorus makes me want to stick pins in my ears (or in the birds themselves), insects are only good for swatting and butterflies are, well, all right because I have a small one tattooed on my lower buttocks, but too colourful by far.

I had meant to tell Marian the good news in a cool and collected manner, swinging down manfully from my great brute of a stallion, sauntering over to her, my legs ever so slightly parted to remind her of my glorious assets, with a dazzling smile on my face because, for a 12th century man, I don't half have good teeth. Instead, I got all giddy and stupid with the thought of finally seeing Marian in a wedding dress (preferably in black, but I'll go with her choice) waiting for me at the altar and cocked it up. I tumbled off the horse ungraciously because my damp leathers had stuck to the saddle and my walk was all wobbly because I suddenly felt all shy and sick and stupid.

I started to speak and then, in the knowledge that I wasn't good with words, decided instead to take action and without warning scooped her off her feet and slung her over my shoulder. To my complete surprise, she somehow broke free of my grasp, slid off my back, cartwheeled a yard or two away from me and landed squarely on her feet without so much as a wobble. I was impressed. I'd never learned that kind of grace when I did ballet lessons with Isabella. Marian seemed angry with me, though I don't blame her. Who likes being slung over someone's shoulder like a sack of grain without a by-your-leave? I apologised, saying that I only wished to sweep her off her feet. Swallowing down my embarrassment (quite a mouthful, I'll tell you), I requested that she come with me to Locksley as there was something I wanted to show her (my wealth, which is not a euphemism, but it probably should be).

Although she didn't exactly skip around my bedchamber when I showed her all the coins in my chest, she did look interested. I'll admit I was quietly confident that this marriage was going to work out rather well. What's more, it will be soon as the king is arriving in Nottingham this coming Saturday. That thought sent me into something of a panic, as I realised there was much to do before the great day. I must demand some of the peasants decorate Locksley church while others are busy preparing the food that will be consumed at my - correction, our - (our, oh what a lovely word, our) wedding feast. Then I will need to arrange for someone to bring wine from the castle cellars to Locksley (I should probably keep this quiet. Don't want the sheriff sticking his oar in and limiting me to two bottles of Burgundy and some cheap white plonk). And, most importantly of all, I should make sure that Locksley's bed linen is given its annual wash a month early.