Everliving Kings (the Heroes of Darkness Saga) (11 page)

Forgetting all about the farmer the
soldiers drew their weapons and formed a tight circle around Sir Guy to protect him.

“Nobody move!” came a shout from the tree line as a group of bow wielding men emerged from all sides. “You lot! What er ya fink yer doin ere’ eh?” one of the woodsman demanded to know as they su
rrounded the guards and their noble officer.

Sir Guy of Gisbon had been called many things since his childhood accident had changed his fortunes, but
cowardly was not among them.

“What?” he shouted at the newcomers as
he stepped forward defiantly. “We are here on the King’s business, not that it is any concern of yours!”

The red bearded fellow who spoke first studied the faces of those in front of him before he answered. “The King ain’t ere’ is e? So you got no reason ta stay. Be off wit ya afore ah change me mind.”

Sir Guy stood his ground and glared at the man. “We will be ‘off’ when the King’s business is completed. You should know the death of a King’s man now falls on the head of the land holder! Because of what you criminals have done that man must now be hanged!” he shouted as he pointed at the farmer.

The woodsman sneered and pulled his bo
wstring taught leveling an arrow at Guy’s throat. “Leave now or the King will lose more an one man.”

“Sir Guy!” Robert shouted as he regained his footing. One of the bowmen turned his attention t
owards him causing the noble to raise both hands in the air before continuing. “He is giving you a chance to leave alive. I suggest you take it.

Before Guy could answer him the bowmen who seemed to be in charge lowered his bow and r
elaxed the string as he said, “Take the advice of the hooded man, or die here and now.”

Sir Guy frowned but signaled his men to lower their weapons. “Fine, but the Sheriff will hear of this. Sir Robin, you have attacked a King’s man and now that man is dead. The law is clear here. You are u
nder arrest and will be held accountable for your actions. Take him and we will be on our way” he spit out in anger so fast he did not even notice his blunder.

The bowmen, who had pointed his weapon at Sir Robert, now stepped in front of him and aimed instead at the guards who had moved to arrest him. Once more the red bearded man spoke for his men. “Robin stays with us; any man wanted by the Sheriff is free in the greenwood. Now go, dis is yer last warnin’. Robin in the Hood and that strongbox stay with us.”

Gisbon mounted his horse with a sneer for the woodsman, “This will not go unpunished! I will see to it you all hang for this!” turning towards the portly friar he said, “Brother James you had better come with us.”

Much to Sir Guy’s surprise the friar shook his head and smiled. “Sir Guy, these men need my spi
ritual guidance, I cannot abandon so lost a flock in their hour of need.”

Guy’s jaw dropped in shock, “But these men are common outlaws!”

“As I recall, our Lord spent his time here on earth not with the righteous, but with the thieves and the prostitutes. I am quite sure I will be fine Sir Guy.”

Gisbon frowned at him before he nodded gi
ving in. With a final look of hate for the bandits he spun his horse around and raced off towards Nottingham castle.

12

The messenger waited in the imposing entr
yway of the great hall and inspected the age worn tapestries out of boredom. Before he tried in vain for the sixth time to make out the faded Latin inscription around the dusty fabric border, a servant girl stepped into the sunken stone room and called out to him.

“Oh I beg yer pardin’ fer the wait good
Sir, but the Sheriff will see you now.” She said with a bow before leading the young man to a large side room the High Sheriff of Nottingham and Devonshire used for official business.

The Sheriff barely looked up as the pair e
ntered the room and the servant announced the royal messenger. In fact Sheriff Brewer just put his left hand out expectantly, finally looking up at the man once the scroll was in his hand.

“Who are you from again?” he asked as he broke the wax seal and unrolled the parchment to in
spect it.

“His Majesty’s court at High-garden
you’re Grace.” The messenger said in a well-practiced way.

Leaning back in his chair the Sheriff frowned as he scanned the scroll until he found what he was looking for. “Ah, the Regent is on the way then. Well no need to return a message then my friend, you may go.” He said without taking his eyes from the paper.

After the young man bowed and turned to go he was practically run over by a second messenger boy who had obviously been in a hurry.

This second messenger was flushed red in the face and gasping for air as he held out a s
imilar scroll. “Message for you my Lord.” He stammered between heaving breaths. Once more the Sheriff frowned as he scanned the second scroll; this one however sent a smile to snake its way across his face. “Excellent! Go and eat something young man, you will need your strength for the return trip.”

Just then Sir Guy of Gisbon burst into the room just as winded as the messenger before him. Before he could open his mouth the Sheriff greeted him with a smile.

“Well Sir Guy! Just in time. This young man here is from our French associate, monsieur Tesouid. He is here for the final payment. Once he is rested and well fed you will turn the strongboxes over to him and accompany him to meet with our new friends.”

Gisbon’s eyes went
wide with horror at the Sheriff’s suggestion and his jaw dropped open. “Ah…but my Lord the ah…the  strongbox, well it ah…”

Brewer could tell something was very wrong and had an odd sensation of the walls closing in around him. He waved for the messenger to leave and rose to his feet.

“Gisbon,…you do still have my strongbox don’t you?” he asked as his voice slowed and lowered with each word. “You did collect all of the taxes like I asked you too did you not?”

Sir Guy frowned in concentration at the She
riff’s double negative line of questioning.

“Um, yes.”

Brewer smiled and let his shoulders slump a bit in relief until Guy continued.

“Oh, um…no? Well yes and no. You see I did collect the taxes my
Lord, but that is what I wanted to tell you! One old fellow refused to pay; he said he had no money. Well he did have eight coppers in his house but not a single florin. He did have two small grain sacs and that may have been worth half a florin or so but we didn’t weigh them so I can’t be sure.”

The Sheriff leaned forward on the desk as Sir Guy continued to rant.

“He did say something about the crops being light this year, and…”

“Guy.”

“…truth is told I did have other farmers…”

“Gisbon.”

“…say the same thing. Well you know about…”

“
Gisbon!”

“…the crops not the money I mean because…”

“GISBON!” the Sheriff shouted, “Where is my money!?”

Sir Guy blinked, “Oh well I…”

“Gisbon, I gave you a simple task that even one as incompetent as an anvil should have been able to accomplish! Are you telling me you have lost the strongbox?”

Once more Sir Guy frowned in thought, “Oh no my
Lord, I know right where it is. It is not lost just stolen.” He said with a nod.

“What!? What do you mean stolen? Stolen by whom?”

“Oh, Bandits… and Sir Robert, I mean Robin. Well that’s what they called him, I had no idea he was not who he said he was.”

Brewer scrunched up his face in rage, “What the hell are you talking about Guy? Who the hell is Robin?”

“Robin in the hood.” Guy corrected.

“Sir Guy…” the Sheriff said as he took a deep breath and tried to calm himself, “Sit down and slo
wly tell me everything that happened to you today. I want you to leave nothing out, and pray nothing else bad happens to you today.”

Sir Guy sat, as he was told, and relayed all of the morning’s events as best as he could recall. When he had finished, he was surprised to see how calm the Sheriff was. Instead of screaming and throwing things as guy had expected, he simply leaned on his desk and stared off into the corner of the room, idly scratching his bearded chin.

As Guy watched the Sheriff study the stones of the wall, the messenger boy for the mercenaries returned fresh from his rest. He knocked on the open door and leaned into the room saying, “Am I disturbing you my Lord?”

The Sheriff smiled at him, as if he had not a care in the world and waived the boy to approach.

“My Lord I am ready to travel and my Lord Tesouid is eager to begin his work. If you will turn over the coins to me I will be on my way.”

The Sheriff smiled and slid his arm around the boy like a proud parent. “Yes, fine, fine. Do you have an armed escort with you?” he asked innocently enough.

“No my Lord, that would attract attention. It’s just my horse and me. I do carry lots of pots and pans like a tinker to cover the sounds of any coins though my Lord. You need not worry; your coin will be safe with me.” He smiled.

The Sheriff shook his head, “Yes, I did hear about your little run in with bandits today. A shame really.”

“My Lord?” the messenger said in confusion.

“You know
, the Bandits…” Brewer said just before he plunged his dagger into the unsuspecting man’s chest. “…The ones who killed you and stole the strongbox; such a shame. Gisbon?” the Sheriff said quietly as he let the body of the messenger slide down to the floor. “I need you to listen to me very carefully. You will go to the Huntington estate and give them the sad news of Sir Robert the elder’s loss in the Holy land, and the capture of his son; who was kidnapped not far from here by the evil wolfs-head Robin Hood. You will tell them the bandits have demanded ten thousand gold florins in three days’ time or they will behead Sir Robert. Tell them we are doing all we can to locate these criminals and rescue Sir Robert; if Madame Huntington wills it, but it would be best to give you the money now for her grandsons’ save return. Do you understand Sir Guy?”

Sir Guy was wide eyed and staring at the bloody dagger still in the Sheriffs hand. “The elder Robert is dead in the Holy Lands?”

The Sheriff smiled and nodded his head, “Yes I am afraid so, he had a run in with Moorish assassins.”

Guy lifted his gaze from the blade to the She
riff’s eyes as he grasped the plan, “And the outlaw Robin Hood?”

“A murderer and a thief; I was just about to draw up the official orders when you told me of his latest outrage! I will have the scribes sketch a po
rtrait of this outlaw to post about with a reward notice for his capture. Get to the Huntington estate and get me that money, then you will hunt down and kill this wolfs-head! Do you understand Sir Guy?”

Guy nodded and smiled, “Yes my
Lord, I will not fail you! But what of the body?” he asked as he pointed to the quickly cooling corpse at their feet.

“Ah Yes, poor devil. You were right to bring him to me Sir Guy, another victim of Sir…er…Robin Hood. I will have him buried here and send word to his master of this tragedy. Perhaps
the Frenchmen may wish to aid you in tracking this criminal down. Oh I think things are starting to go our way Sir Guy! Now go get me that money and take as many men as you may need, I don’t want this one disappearing as well.”

Sir Guy rushed away to round up the guards and the Sheriff could not help but smile.

Anya and Julnar could clearly hear the Sheriff’s foot falls on the stone steps as if he were an invading army, so it should not have come as a surprise to him that the door was open when he arrived, and the Risen and her ‘child’ were waiting patiently for him.

“My
Lord High Sheriff,” the Risen began, “I can tell by the spring in your step you must have good news for us, please join us.” Anya said, with a gesture towards the empty love seat across from the couch she and Julnar occupied.

Brewer smiled at the warm welcome and closed the door behind him
, before settling in to the offered chair. “Ah, yes indeed I do my Lady, but first, I am curious to see how you stand on my….proposal.”

Anya did not flinc
h as she had expected as much from him. True she had no desire to be involved in human politics, and even less interest in human marriage, but she knew the proposed ‘wedding’ was little more than a convenient alliance for both sides.

She drew a slow breath and said, “I will accept your proposal, provided we are very clear on the terms first. Any major surprises and the ‘til death’ part may come far sooner than you expect.”

Brewer smiled and nodded his head in agreement, “Of course my Lady, I would expect no less from you.” He had to admit this Vampire did conduct her business in a way he was fond of himself. Knowledge is power, and no move should be made without escape plans in place. “I am sure you and I will make a formidable team my Lady; so before you state your terms I would like to inform you of some recent…developments, that may make our work here easier than expected.”

The
Vampire arched a single eyebrow at that but said nothing.

“First of all,” he continued, “The Prince Regent has accepted my invitation as expected and is on the way here.
Second my friends from France have arrived on our shores and are also on the way here, so you see my Lady I can provide you with both the military aid and Royal protection as promised. Now however I must tell you the troubling news.”

At that, he sat forward and looked down at the finely woven rug under their feet, as if he were trying to decide what to say. “I am afraid young Sir Robert has turned against us.”

Now it was Anya’s turn to sit forward and frown. “In what way Sheriff?” she asked in a ‘go on’ type of voice.

“Well as you know, the French Knights I hired are of course mercenaries.”

Anya nodded as he went on.

“And mercenaries require money, so I added a small tithe to the King’s normal taxes to raise that share.”

At that the Risen cut him off, “So you are stealing Royal taxes to pay for your own coup? I would say that is an interesting strategy that is bound to be unpopular. In fact it is quite rude of you to do; I like it.”

Brewer shrugged in response, “Well taxes are hardly ever popular with anyone, but I
was raising the money for the good of the realm and not just for the good of me.”

Anya smiled and shook her head, “And what, pray tell, did you tell them it was for? Foreign i
nvestments? Better roads? Pension plans?” she teased.

Now it was the Sheriff’s turn to smile, “No. A
ctually, I told them it was for the war effort; and it really is. Once we have rid ourselves of that fool of a Prince Regent, we will need to deal with King Richard, but that is another matter. Back to my original point, those taxes were meant to pay the Frenchmen for their help in both dealing with the Prince and your father. Our gallant Sir Robert has stolen the lot if it!” the Sheriff paused to see the response of the Vampire, but was surprised by her reaction.

Anya took a deep breath
, closed her eyes and let that breath out with the shake of her head and a groan of frustration. “That boy is a fool. I am quite sure he meant well you’re Grace, he was just…off the mark.”

The Sheriff’s eyes went wide, “You
knew of this my Lady?”

Again the
Risen sighed before speaking. “No, but we did have a conversation about doing what you think is the right thing to do. I have no doubt that is what he was thinking.”

“Be that as it may My Lady, he is now a da
nger to us. He and the good friar have joined a band of outlaws in the forest claiming they are protecting the people or some such nonsense. I have sent Sir Guy to Robert’s estate to raise the money he stole from us. Not to worry my Lady, this is but a minor setback. In a few days the Prince will be here and I will introduce you to him as my noble intended, after all you were Royal born.”

At that the
Risen could not help but smirk as memories of her childhood as a princess came flooding back to her.

“I will inform him of the plot to kill him and steal the crown by
Lord Rathbone.”

Again the
Vampire girl smiled, “So you will tell the Prince your plan and then point the finger of blame at my father; that much you have already said, but what makes you so sure he will believe you? And please don’t say me! He has never met me so he has no reason to trust me.”