Black Knights deception

Black Knights Deception Part 3

Chapter 6

Malcolm was on the side of the road, some ten miles from Nottingham, He had been trying to get to get there in search of work. Not that he had really held out any hope of employment. People only hired fit young men, not men with twisted spines. He had collapse an hour or more ago, weak from hunger and thirst. The sun beat down. Death could not come too quickly. His time on this earth had been miserable. The sound of hooves registered in his brain but he had no energy to draw attention to himself. He was vaguely aware of his lips being moisten with liquid, before being lifted on to the horse by a brown cloaked figure.

Nottingham Abbey lay some three miles from the town, the man was cared for by the brothers from the adjacent monastery and one in particular was most attentive, the man who had found him by the road. After a week he was well enough to get up and walk in the Abbey gardens. He was enjoying the warm sun, when his rescuer approached.

"I am glad to see you have recovered," he said.

Malcolm wished he could see the man's face but it was hidden behind a mask made of bronze. Before he could answer the monk spoke again.

"You wonder at my mask. It hides scars caused by a fire in a monastery, I was staying in while, on a pilgrimage. What are your plans do you intend to seek work in Nottingham?"

"Yes, not that I expect to find any, my spine is deformed and I am seen as weak. You have delayed my death Sir and I am grateful, but I know that I have no hope to live for long." The man felt a stab of pity for the monk, he knew what it was to be deformed.

"What if I found work for you here at the Abbey, would you stay?" the monk asked.

"You mean take orders? I am not sure that I am that holy a man," he smiled.

"I did not mean for you to join the order," the man said mysteriously.

"What work would I do?"

"You would be me when I am not here, you would walk in my footsteps, as if you were me. I have God's work to do, the new Sheriff would not approve, but I could bluff him into believing I am in the monastery, when things happen he doesn't like. I know there are risks but I will pay well."

He looked at the monk, the sheriff was an evil man, in three months of his reign of terror Malcolm had seen many injustices served in the name of the sheriff. If he could help upset his plans in any way he would.

"My name is Malcolm and yes I will work with you, but I do not see how I am to be you? You are tall you're back as straight as a long staff..." he stopped speaking abruptly as the man before him seemed to shrink, his spine becoming curved.

"You have not to worry about looking like me, for I will look like you. You will have to wear a mask of course. Come let us walk and I will tell you my plans."

Nottingham Castle was perched high above the town, it had been undamaged in the siege, which was more than could be said for many people from the Shire. Many had lost their lives, including Lord Loxley Earl of Huntingdon and many more had been injured and maimed. All in all, the new Sheriff thought, a good day, the day Nottingham had fallen. Sheriff Vasey was a man of small stature, and like many short men, he had an overwhelming need to prove himself. In his case his ambition knew no bounds; he aimed to be the most powerful man in England. Nottingham was just the beginning he intended to go much further. He used and manipulated others to feed his desire for power; loyal to no one but himself. The locals were proving tiresome he needed someone to command his forces in Nottingham and keep the Earls of the shire in line; it was too tiresome to have do all this himself.

The great door at the end of the hall opened and a page came forward. Vasey looked questioningly at him.

"Sheriff Vasey, Sir Guy of Gisborne seeks an audience with the new Sheriff, if he pleases?"