Chapter Text
After all, how long did he convince himself that there was nothing and it just had seemed, which means he need to throw it out of his head, and then his heart will calm down, but damn it! No, he didn’t calm down, and even more so he didn’t forget. Only for the time being he was in great illusions, but this is just not surprising - he lived by them all his life. Besides them, he had nothing, to be honest.
***
There were more than enough oddities that day from the very morning. However, there were heaps of them the day before, and then they didn’t decrease either - they grew like a snowball!
To begin with, Guy had to go from the convent of St. Mary to Nottingham, not just as a courier - his duty, which has long tired everyone on edge - but also to his new place of service with Sheriff Robert de Rainault.
Why he offered him the position of his deputy, Guy did not understand, no matter how hard he tried. It looked especially strange after an unsuccessful attempt to catch Robin of Loxley with the "help" of a witch. But, despite all these incomprehensibilities, Guy agreed almost immediately - ambitions took over, and the salary was not the last reason. Not to say the opposite
The next in a series of oddities was a conversation with the abbot, just before his departure. And not the fact of the conversation itself, but its ... content, or what?
—Have you decided to accept my brother's proposal?
— Yes, my lord,—Guy nodded and lowered his eyes, as he always tried to do when talking with a churchman. It didn't always work out, but Guy did his best, because it's better not to tease this "goose", especially when he is in a bad mood. And now this is exactly the case.
Hugo de Rainault., frowning like an owl, was silent for a long time and looked out the window, clutching a silver goblet in his hand, so much so that the knuckles turned white. Then he suddenly turned around and asked quietly:
— Why do you need this, Guy?
A very awkward silence ensued. Guy even opened his mouth in amazement and, forgetting about decency, stared at the abbot. He had no idea how to react: just like that, Hugo de Rainault did not call him by his first name. This is the first time.
And from this sudden familiarity in communication, it became very uncomfortable - Guy had a chill on his back. But a moment later the churchman became himself again, and Guy thought: did he misheard?
— Well, it's your decision. But I do not remove the post of forester from you. Yes, I know that before you did not receive a salary for this work, but now, of course, you will. And two days a week you are obliged to be present in the monastery. Besides, whenever I need you, you must come here without delay.
— Ah... er... m... —Guy was about to object that he would hardly have the opportunity to combine these positions, but while he was choosing his words, Hugo de Rainault suddenly added:
— But don't say anything to my brother. One of these days I will personally notify him and resolve this matter with him.
Dumbfounded and confused, Guy could only nod silently and left the abbot's office, involuntarily catching himself thinking that he would not want to be present at the brothers' conversation. He had already seen precedents, he knew how it could be, and, frankly, he would have done just fine without this knowledge.
Saddling Fury at the stable, he thought about the conversation, reproduced all the details in his memory and absolutely did not understand what had happened now.
The abbot looked more dissatisfied than usual during the conversation, it seems that his eye even twitched, which meant that he was wildly angry. The reason? Just the reason Guy could not understand. It seems that neither today, nor the other day, nothing happened to get so angry. The monastic business was going on as usual, there were no messengers from the bishop, and there were no guests either. Is it still because of the witch? ..
And Guy did not notice how he plunged into memories with reflections.
The churchman himself then ordered to find him something of the kind for a report for the bishop. Of course, they did not dedicate Guy to the subtleties of the case, and he was not eager to. However, an order is an order, and he went through the whole neighborhood, looking for a suitable candidate.
The case turned out to be very difficult, Guy only found the witch in Elsdon. And then almost by chance, thanks to the story of one of the foresters subordinate to him. Here Guy then seized on his chatter, went to that village, looked at, ahem, the "healer". This woman turned out to be really very suspicious and, despite her relative youth and cuteness, rather unpleasant, one might even say that disgusting. What exactly, Guy did not really understand, so he decided to assume that it was because of her behavior. It looked, in addition to being brazen and cheeky, also flirtatious.. Maybe she thought in this way to get rid of the prospect of an investigation? It is possible. But the way...
On the one hand, this type of bribe was met here although not at every step, but in half of the cases. On the other hand, behind all these grimaces and antics, it was felt that she was not suggesting, but that she was mocking, exposing it as a seduction. Well, at least she didn’t slip her daughter to him, otherwise many did .
Guy had seen enough of such debauchery since his campaigns in Aquitaine, and the dirty girls there were, at the most, nine or ten years old - still children. The locals were not much different.
At the recollection, once again it became disgusting, and Guy caught himself thinking that if this Jennet had even hinted, he would have cut her down on the spot, because there is a limit to everything. But what to take from these Saxon cattle?
He very quickly learned that he was called Guy the Forester behind his back and many other things. The epithets were for the most part very indecent and directly related to his efforts in the service of the abbot...His zeal went sideways to too many here, but it did not work out to bribe. No one. A motive for hatred, understandable to a goat! And what if he took bribes, looked through his fingers at many things, did or did not do something else like that? Would it have made any difference? He didn't know, and he couldn't behave any other way, so the state of affairs was what it was
The local rabble — both serfs and yeomen— whispered and tried to guess what a huge salary should be, since he was at the monastery with the abbot and the steward, and the courier, and the forester, and much more. He guessed what was being hinted at, and it infuriated him, because the hints were baseless. Maybe the abbot had such an inclination, only he did not show it, and even more so in Guy's direction. But for some reason the locals were deeply convinced, as well as that Guy did not know about their conviction and did not guess.
Hatred is really such a small thing, but the fact that he served as the dog of Hugo de Rainault was a reason for contempt among these Saxons. And in general, since he does not have not only brains, but also self-respect, then God himself ordered to despise him. Only, having run into him, they were very surprised to the opposite. And Guy did not cease to be surprised at the impudence of all this mob, who suddenly decided that they could despise him. This rabble without a concept of honor and dignity, not to mention nobility?
Openly, of course, they tried not to express high feelings of this kind, but everything was read behind each forced bow, downcast look, respectful and polite tone. They called it a protest of real free Saxons and in all seriousness believed that England was still their country, and one day she would rise from her knees, and other dregs of the same kind.
Only there was one detail, and Guy knew it too well: this Saxon rabble of both sexes is ready to gnaw each other's throats for the opportunity to rise above the rest of their fellow tribesmen and be closer to the source of power, and therefore to their enemies - the Normans. And in the process, they did not disdain anything. They denounced each other, neighbor against neighbor, brother against brother and husband against wife for a penny profit and were ready to arrange a comedy with tears of grief and dances of joy almost simultaneously.
Guy felt this amazing hypocrisy constantly and in everything. Therefore, he fiercely hated these "proud and freedom-loving" Saxons, who, in fact, turned out to be worse than the latest dregs. They called him the dog of Hugo de Rainault, and they themselves were not even up to the dogs in their essence. Natural rats, vile, cowardly and greedy, just waiting to seize the moment and grab the throat!
Well, on the one hand, if you want to live, you will do anything, and Guy understood this very well, because he himself was a living example of this. But on the other hand, the selfish need to survive did not make the Saxons holy martyrs for freedom and faith and did not justify everything that they arranged under this sauce. And certainly not endowed them with permissiveness and the desired moral rightness ...
Among other indecencies, there was one fact that Guy had to constantly deal with in the service - you can try to avoid it in any way, but you stumble over it every time! And it pissed Guy off just to the point of white heat.
The bottom line was that local peasants, under the pretext of collecting brushwood, since there was permission for this, sent children to set and check snares for rabbits and catch partridges with a net. Also poaching, by the way, though small. And the children go, because of their infancy and naivety, they did what they were told by adults, and simply copying their behavior and actions, while not understanding the true essence of what was happening and how it could end. Although according to the law it was believed that at the age of seven children should already understand, but Guy knew perfectly well that this was not so. He also knew that before the age of twelve they had nowhere to go at all. They couldn't protest, they couldn't defend themselves even if they knew what was going on. But they did not understand, and were in the full power and property of their parents. Or those to whom these parents sold them as servants.
But most of the foresters closed their eyes to the fact that a rabbit's foot sticks out in a bundle of brushwood behind the back of a child met on a forest path, and a couple of birds probably lie in a basket under mushrooms, acorns and roots. They knew perfectly well where these children came from, what they were doing in the forest, why they returned home at dusk and whose they were - everyone here from the last villan to the thane knew each other, who was related to whom and who owed whom. The hand washes the hand, everyone covers each other. And Guy significantly spoils their well-established free life for them.
It sometimes occurred to him that the abbot took him into his service and did not even look at the lack of recommendations, only and exclusively because Guy was not local, he had no relatives here and he did not know anyone. Apparently, there were bad precedents before him, and, it seems, more than one. It is clear that they will be silent about them, like fish, especially if asked ...
And since he is not a local, he has neither connections nor clan support, and he will depend solely on his patron, who not only pays him money, but also protects him from others. And from this it follows that Guy will try his best and not express his opinion on any occasion...
That's what he was trying to do. And to comply, and to keep his mouth shut, as far as possible. In the opinion of the abbot, both turned out badly.
But Guy knew about the connivance of the foresters. This was, in fact, the only concession he gave to his subordinates. And he himself understood very well that in a couple of years these children, who hunted by snaring rabbits, would turn into real poachers with bows and hunt bigger game. And they run a very serious risk of ending up either without a hand, or on the gallows, because he himself will catch them. He knew, he just tried not to think about it again, because it became disgusting to the point of nausea.
But it was even more disgusting for him to catch youngsters! He learned in the blink of an eye, even in the twilight, even in the fog, to determine who is hiding in the bushes - a child or an adult. And he made a deal with his conscience, almost a malfeasance, when he arbitrarily raised the age bar to fourteen years and did not pursue these children during round-ups, “mistaking” them for yearlings of wild boars and deer
There was no mercy for adult poachers. Maybe, in a sense, he took revenge on them. Guy knew all their tricks and caches - he could, if he wanted to, write a whole treatise about it! For this he was called the devil, hated, feared and despised at the same time..
This did not prevent, however, local girls of all ages from flirting with him in a completely brazen and shameless way. And then, in the same way, play a comedy for the abbot about the harassment of his forester and steward. Maiden honor and innocence, it turns out, were abused by Guy even among those who, even before his arrival, could not boast of them!
How one fits with the other, Guy did not understand, although he tried.
So then, at the antics of this herbalist, Guy only winced. He recorded testimony from local peasants and gave all these complaints to Hugo de Rainault. The abbot stuck his nose into the papers and thought the witch was not just a suitable, but a very suitable specimen. True, such a development of events did not suit her herself, which, in principle, can be understood, but who asked her opinion? No one asked Guy either. It’s nothing, he survived.
The proceedings were arranged according to the whole form and order - but how else, then, it's for the record! But who would have thought that it would turn into a natural farce, and the case itself would end in such crap? And that the de Rainault brothers would blame Guy for the very initiative of the trial.
Then, in his naivety, he did not even suspect that such tricks were in the order of things among the brothers, and at first he was simply dumb with amazement. But when this witch began to accuse him of harassment... Yes, he has the fame of a well-known throughout the district, it's clear who, but even he has some selection criteria and tastes with preferences! So, this witch was not included in them. That is, completely. And to be more precise, as a woman he did not want her absolutely. And if he didn’t want to, he couldn’t harass, and he didn’t give a damn what they would think and say about it. He did not do this, because others are sure of the opposite, the opposite will not become true.
And then the sheriff decided to use that herbalist as a ferret to catch Loxley.
By the way, Hugo de Rainault was very skeptical about her candidacy and the idea itself, to put it very delicately. And if not delicately, the brothers quarreled so that the office was almost smashed to pieces. If Guy had not seen with his own eyes how the abbot grabbed his sword and chased the sheriff, first through the scriptorium, and then through the castle, he would not have believed it. There was swearing - it seems they heard in the city!
Guy had to personally disarm the younger de Rainault, because there was no one else in the castle to do this - the crowd of secretaries is good only with goose feathers, and the soldiers are afraid of excommunication. There were, of course, a steward and a constable, but ... Yes, they are very courageous people in their way, they didn’t particularly believe in a threat, only it’s better not to trust them with a sword, even hold it, and neither one nor the other. So Guy was forced to act on his own, moreover, during his service as the abbot's steward, he had already become accustomed to the constant threats of the churchman.
After the scandal, the younger de Rainault scolded his relative aloud all the way to the monastery in such words that Guy was both embarrassed and admiring. But that anger was nothing compared to how the abbot got pissed off in his monastery a couple of days later.
Well, what did it all lead to? The sheriff dumped both the failure of the case and the very plan for him - Guy of Gisburne, making a complete fool of him. For the second time. And... immediately hired him as his deputy! How can this fit together?
And the churchman... Guy would have understood if the abbot had fired him, but Hugo de Rainault hadn't accused him of anything. The abbot not only listened calmly to his story, but also accepted his version that someone might be warning Loxley. Well, maybe in that case the witch herself told the robbers everything, but there were others before her. In a word, the abbot insisted that somewhere - either in their monastery, or in Nottingham Castle, or maybe both there and there - a fat rat wound up. And his steward and forester Guy of Gisburne, in fact, did everything that is possible and in human power.
This position was especially shocking for Guy - he did not expect protection from the churchman, and, frankly, his intercession was not superfluous. Then the sheriff not only shut up, but even, just in case, moved away from both his brother and Guy himself.
One way or another, now the obligations of the two services hung on him, and this made the already difficult situation even trickier. The only thing that consoled Guy was that a very good career prospect was forming, and, of course, the money.
Guy then did not yet suspect that he would not receive either one or the other. Officially, everything was arranged as if the abbot had given Guy to the sheriff of Nottingham. Actually, it’s strange, since Guy himself was not a vassal of the de Rainault family, and the brothers had no right to transfer him to each other, in fact, as a thing ...
However, he was more concerned about how to find the "rat". He also wanted to understand something unusual and even mysterious that had happened to him. At the lake, he suddenly heard a voice that called him by name, and not just said, but persistently called. And it's already the second time...
No matter how hard he tried, Guy could not find an explanation and calmed down that it could just be a hallucination, a joke of a fading consciousness. After all, it happened during the torture that the robbers arranged for him, and specifically Loxley.
Speaking of Loxley. To catch this bastard along with a horned stuffed animal - his dad, is a must. Moreover, for Guy in the service of the sheriff, this will already be part of his direct duties. But he will think about this a little later, when he gets used to the new place, but now ...
And again, like a thorn, the thought: what if it wasn't a hallucination?
About one year ago Baron de Belleme, not remembered by nightfall, got into the habit of going to the de Rainault brothers and talking nonsense about some Herne and his son, and all sorts of devilry began around the district. Well, in the end, the lion's share of such cases turned out to be the work of human hands, but it's not all the same, which is the worst and most suspicious! And there were so many of these oddities that ... No, this is no longer an accident or a coincidence, but the most that neither is a trend!
And after all, this had not happened before, although at the very beginning of his career as an abbey steward and forester, Guy heard a very strange phrase from an old monk:
—There are places around here where people still pray to the ancient gods.
This was not said directly to him, but rather in passing, as if the monk was talking to himself. But Guy remembered the words, although for the time being he did not attach any importance. He thought about it when the Baron de Belleme fell on their heads and the devilry began.
But no matter how much he thought about it, he could not understand how all this fuss around the Man in the Hood and his dad Herne suddenly began. And this strange prophecy was dug up from somewhere ... Who came up with all this? And for what? Surely there is someone who extracts his own, and very sickly, benefit from the situation, otherwise what's the point of arranging this whole farce?
Everything seems to have started with Bellem. Did he have anything to do with the local riot many years ago? They say it was arranged by Loxley's own father. One that is truly native. It seems that the baron was in Palestine at that time, but who knows where he actually hung out.
But Guy did not think about it for a long time, concentrating on what was happening now. The case could be like this: the baron created a "threat", then offered to help eliminate it, planning to get in this way ... What? Power? Didn't fit. Bellem already wielded exorbitant influence. And most importantly - he died in the process of getting rid of this threat. But the mummery Sherwood farce has remained and flourishes to this day, it is not going to die.
And if the initiator and true beneficiary of this whole crazy house is not Belleme at all? Then who? Well, definitely not Loxley! This one is just a puppet pulled by the strings by a local deer-dresser who calls himself a priest of the god Herne. And if that Loxley, the eldest, he also pulled? Judging by the rumors, the Horned One has been sitting in the forest for a long time, so it is possible! And a good question is, is anyone pulling the horns of this forest scarecrow itself. And there is no one to ask! Yes, even a hint on this topic is dangerous. Especially with the sheriff and the abbot. But on the other hand, you can't just leave everything like that! Something must be done!
In these reflections, Guy left the monastery of St. Mary, finding himself under the shadow of Sherwood Forest, a considerable piece of which stretched between the abbey and Nottingham. And here another very strange and mysterious thing happened to him. Just from the category of the same devilry.
The road from the monastery to the castle during the year of service with the abbot was traveled to the gnashing of teeth, and its surroundings are familiar to the pain in the eyes. How it could happen that he got lost, Guy did not know. Maybe you didn't get lost? How could he turn off the road when he did not turn off it and remembered it? That's right, he couldn't..
He had just been riding along the path along the Rhineworth, with Winkerfield and Deerdale on his right, and Bilsthorpe on his left, and soon Oxton would appear, and beyond Calverton. Everything was relatively in order and calm, when all of a sudden Guy suddenly felt dizzy, even sick. Undoubtedly, from the heat and oppressiveness - it was nearing noon, the air above the path had warmed up so much that it was already moving in waves.
Guy sighed and let go of the reins, leaving the horse to choose its own speed, and Fury immediately began to walk. The thought flashed his mind that Nottingham and the sheriff would not be going anywhere anyway, if he arrived a couple of hours earlier or later. His head was splitting mercilessly, his mouth was dry. Guy took off his helmet, wiped the sweat from his forehead, rubbed his temples. He took a flask from his saddlebag and took a few sips of water, closing his eyes for a moment in the simple pleasure of quenching his thirst. And when he opened them, he realized that he was anywhere, but not on the Rufford road..
He looked at a huge oak tree in the middle of a completely unfamiliar clearing and did not understand where he was and how he got there..
With great suspicion, he glanced at the flask - did they put something in there? But this was unlikely, because he personally washed it and filled it with water right before leaving. In the monastery, a spring gushed out of the ground. The water there is not only very tasty, but in any heat it’s almost icy, it hurts your teeth. It's still cold. Guy was very fond of the local water, it quenched his thirst better than any ale, and he could freely take it himself, and free of charge, which in his case was of no small importance.
As an employee of the abbey, he was entitled to a gallon per day from the monastery drinking supplies, and on holidays also wine, but ... In short, in order to get a drink, he had to ask the cellarer, which was an extremely unpleasant procedure for Guy. Because the cellarer immediately disliked him very much for something..
Guy had no idea what was the matter, and somehow he was not eager to find out - he had no time, and to such an extent that he could eat calmly only in the saddle and what he stole from the monastery kitchen in the morning. Well, or what he got hold of in the village. The option with the kitchen was preferable - there the bread is much tastier.
As for the hostility of the cellarer, perhaps it played a role that the cellarer was from a very old and well-born Saxon family that had lost a lot with the advent of King William, and Guy himself, respectively, was a Norman from the “conquerors”? Perhaps. Or the reason was something else, but the fact remained - the monk spoke to him arrogantly and in every possible way pointed to his own privileged position and, without hiding, showed hostility. Either it will dilute the drink with water, or it will pour stale ... Guy did not want an open conflict, his own position was rather precarious, in which case he was not ready and did not want to lose his place and the only source of livelihood. Just stopped coming for his share of the ale, that's all. He refused to buy somewhere else on principle, and that instead of ale he drinks water, so this is not ordinary water, but, one might say, from a holy source. Need to understand the difference.
No, it was not the contents of the flask, and there must be some other explanation for what was happening. But what?
And then he noticed that the dizziness and pain had gone.
Without knowing why, Guy dismounted from his horse and went up to the oak. He touched the bark, walked around the mighty trunk, looked up into the crown, but saw nothing unusual. It seems to be a tree like a tree, there are thirteen of them in a dozen.
Behind the oak tree, less than fifty yards away, was either a small dam on a stream, or a lake with extensive meadowsweet thickets along the banks. There were quite a few of those in the area. The place gave the impression of being pleasant and even peaceful, it smelled of flowers and herbs, and the water blew cool. However, something was... not right. Guy felt it almost with his skin, but he could not explain, however, as always. Yes, this “not right” was in a good way, only ...
A noise from behind made Guy turn around and he saw Fury, with the most serious and concentrated expression on his "face", trying to reach a low-hanging oak branch to feast on the greens. Finally the horse succeeded - he grabbed it, pulled it and tore it off with a bang. The prey, which was not sickly in size, crashed right under the horse's hooves, he surveyed it with satisfaction and began to eat leaves from it.
And then Guy felt ... Or did he just imagine? As if there is someone behind! He turned around quickly, but saw no one. In the meadow he was alone, except for the horse. It only seemed that the air thickened into a bizarre shape, somewhat reminiscent of a human figure. But after all, there is no one here and could not be, and in front of him there are only untrodden thickets of flowers, which in these parts are called bridewort. Here a light, slightly yellowish haze spreads out, and behind it the water surface gleams. And from the sounds - only the horse snorted, the wind rustles the leaves, and somewhere in the branches the woodpigeon grumbles and hoots. Not a soul around. Yes, and Fury is calm as a log, and he is very sensitive to all sorts of out-of-the-ordinary things, and to strangers too - how many times thanks to him did Guy find out about the ambush a moment before the rest! Helped a lot sometimes...
No, someone is definitely here! Guy did not see him, but felt. But who is this?
If you recall the locals with their manner of writing off all the oddities on ... In general, the forest evil spirits can play with people in this way. And they, according to rumors, are a dime a dozen here. Water goblin, kikimora swamps and other devilry. Guy himself was never distinguished by superstition, rather the opposite, but the endless Saxon tales, with or without reason, got on his nerves. And it would be nice if only they, because there were other stories. In fact, Guy often heard such tales in his childhood, in his homeland in Stancliffe. They say that they lived here once, even before the Romans, and they still live in Ireland and Scotland to this day. They look like people, but only in appearance, because these have never been people. Moreover, they fiercely hated people and did not miss a chance to harm them. They lived here for centuries, and then they disappeared somewhere. According to rumors, they went into some hills. Or is that just what they say? Or did these pretend to leave? How are they called? Fairy, right? Or the Sidhe? An intricate name, one for all ... Tuatha de Danann!
Suddenly, someone's sad voice said: “Oh, Guy, if only it were so easy! Everything is much more complicated.”.
Guy was not exactly scared, but very uncomfortable. Who has spoken to him? And how does he know his name? If, of course, he spoke and it was not a hallucination. So after all it had happened already.
"No, it's not a hallucination. Then too. By the way, this oak that you are interested in is three thousand years old."
Guy suddenly thought that the tree does not look so ancient. The tree may have been a hundred years old, but not three thousand. And Guy almost blurted out aloud that, they say, that cannot be, but he restrained himself. What is he thinking about anyway?..
And a soft chuckle in response: “Maybe quite. He deftly learned to wear his mask, otherwise he would not have lived so long. He wouldn't be able to survive at all. As are you, Guy. As I. Only the masks we all have are very different.
How did this know his thoughts? And what kind of nonsense is he talking about?
Guy couldn't shake the feeling that the voice was just like at the lake. And the most disgusting thing is that this voice reminded him of Loxley's voice. No, it all seemed to be! Especially now, and then too. After all, there were serious reasons. And now, from this heat with stuffiness, the brains are already melting like wax, so all sorts of dregs with absurdity are heard, and then ... And it was as if he dived back into that situation.
He desperately tried to hold his breath as best he could, but the robbers kept him underwater for too long. He could not stand it and inhaled, water, of course. The scoundrels pulled him out and gave him - no, not to catch his breath, just take a breath of air, if, of course, he can take this opportunity and have enough strength to inhale. And they repeated it again. He didn't know how long it lasted, he lost track of time, how he finally lost consciousness, or maybe even almost died - he never understood. But just at that moment, he...let him hear someone call his name. Persistent, appealing.
Then he vaguely remembered being dragged somewhere, and came to his senses on the shore by the fire, covered with a blanket. Fury was grazing peacefully a few paces away. The robbers had left, but all things with armor and weapons were left, as well as a flask of brandy. For some reason, Guy thought that Tuck had left it.
The involuntary and extremely unpleasant memories were interrupted by the voice.
"I didn't want it to happen like this, but I had no choice. What opportunity fell, that was used. And then, I had to do whatever it took... Don't let you leave".
Guy swallowed convulsively. Reality was spreading and falling apart before his eyes, leaving from under his feet, seeping through his fingers. IT knew exactly what he was thinking and what he was remembering! How can this be, and what's going on?
And it suddenly declared something quite strange:
"I'm so glad that after everything you were able to feel my presence and come here".
Why is this all of a sudden and where is this “here”? He didn't go anywhere!
“You just didn’t notice the border, or rather didn’t understand that it was it.”
What nonsense! He was dizzy from the heat, that's all!
“That's what I told you! Only the heat has nothing to do with it, Guy.”
But the voices are really similar, but still not exactly! This type never had such a manner of speaking...
Guy immediately thought that everything seemed to be in general! But in spite of everything, it was terribly curious what he encountered. He almost blurted out aloud, saying who you are, but the answer followed immediately: “After all, you yourself know!”
Guy swore he was hearing Loxley right now. His tongue-in-cheek and slightly snarky manner...
It suddenly sighed heavily and sadly asked in a completely different tone: "Do you remember the first time I called you?"
A rather nasty chill ran down Guy's back. And from the memories, and from the almost naked pain in the voice of his "interlocutor". Yes, Guy remembered how then in the forest a gust of wind brought a single word - his name.
“I had the right to summon, and I did. And you answered.”
At that moment, Guy suddenly felt deep inside himself something like that... He himself did not know what it was, he could not put the feeling into words. Maybe it was his response? But who invited him?At that moment, as if by magic, he returned to his grandfather's house, long lost in childhood, where he was truly happy, where he always aspired with all his heart and soul, where he was himself without fear. But, unfortunately, this delightful feeling immediately ended.
“You see, you understand everything! And do you remember! So we can talk now.”.
Guy squirmed again. And again the same thought came into his head as then: isn't it all a nightmare? It may very well be, because when he heard the voice ... Was there a voice - that's another question! Well, in general, when he heard what he heard, Lady Leaford, who was riding almost nearby, looked at him very suspiciously, it was not to say staring, her eyes bulging. His appearance at that moment must have been strange, and so much so that she looked sideways at him all the way through the forest. Guy felt dislike emanating from her and with every minute growing. Even after the mill, she didn’t have such a face and look, and then she grimaced quite a lot ... Although, it would seem, why such amazement with disgust? For a year now, they had been introduced to each other, and who he was and why the abbot kept him, periodically lending him to the sheriff, she knew perfectly well. And she also saw his work regularly, not to say constantly, and nothing, her appetite did not spoil. And then suddenly her nose turns up. And then.....
He didn’t want to, but memories fell upon him in spite of desire and will.
— I heard you noble knights love duels. Here is your opportunity. Prove in a fair fight what you yourself are worth, without your soldiers!
— I won't fight you, you dirty stinker. And it will not be a fair duel, but a fiction.
And then this lousy scarecrow with a bow spewed such nonsense that it couldn't be worse
I am the King of Sherwood!
Foolishly and naively, Guy thought at first that he had misheard, but he immediately realized the mistake, and therefore the further cries of this ... ahem ... "king" simply passed over his ears. It became extremely clear to him that someone had gone crazy here, and it was definitely not himself.
Loxley then grabbed him by the hair and held the dagger to his throat, and at the same time he almost burst with complacency, declaiming to almost the whole forest what should be handed over to the sheriff.
And here something went awry, Guy felt it clearly. What exactly happened, he did not know, but certainly not in the way Loxley wanted. For a moment, their eyes met, and Guy suddenly felt reality begin to split in two.
The rest, it seems, did not understand anything and hardly even suspected, but the shaggy scarecrow ... Guy realized from his eyes that Loxley had understood: it was not possible to inspire the beaten and bound hand and foot, thrown over the saddle like a bag, the captive enemy that a demonstration of moral superiority and great spiritual power is now taking place. Instead, the life left to the enemy turned out to be only an extremely unsuccessful claim to nobility with generosity and mercy. Say, he could take the opportunity and avenge the murdered so-called stepfather, since the winner is in his right, but he didn’t, because he was higher than this.
No, not above. It was the most common revenge, and a rather vulgar spill, because not for the death of a miller, but for a slap in the face of a presumptuous poacher, which Loxley has always been. It was for her that their self-proclaimed Sherwood Majesty deigned to be offended to the full depth of their petty Saxon little soul.
And it turned out to be a very strange thing: for everyone around, the fact of humiliation seemed to be, but it did not affect the object of humiliation, in the sense of Guy. Instead, this object not only perfectly understood the true essence of what was happening, but also dared to react accordingly. Guy could not show it to the public, but these were trifles, because Loxley saw and understood everything.
Guy understood because he had already come across: his so-called dad was a great master of his own meanness and abomination to expose for nobility and generosity.
But if the farce for the public was more or less successful, albeit with a certain stretch, then with the latter, Loxley did not succeed аt all. Even the noble radiance of the "King of Sherwood", which he tried to portray in the process, was nothing more than ordinary chalcedony< /abbr>. And they both knew it, and about each other too.
There was only one detail in that story that remained a mystery to Guy. There was no explanation for it. None at all. And Guy could not understand: who later untied the ropes that tied his ankles together?
Through the haze of semi-consciousness, pain and nausea, he felt someone grab his legs, and they were suddenly free! This brought him back to his senses, as far as it was possible in his condition. But in an attempt to finally get rid of the bonds and see who helped him, Guy twitched and fell off his horse. Unfortunately for him, he hit his head as he fell and lost consciousness.
Some peasants on their way to Edwinstowe stumbled upon him lying on the road like a crushed frog. They brought him to his senses and bandaged his broken head with something.
They say that if a person is hit on the head well, he can forget a lot. But for some reason this trick did not work with him. Yes, even if he forgot, what's the point? He would be reminded, and more than once, and with pleasure. The news of what had happened spread throughout the county the next day.
To the abbey, which, fortunately, was not so far away, he barely hobbled, holding on to Fury's mane, because he could not ride - his head was too dizzy and blood was coming from his nose. And to go in a cart, as the peasants suggested ... It would be better for him to die in a ditch along the way!
He knocked down his legs in the blood, he could hardly keep on them, but he still made it.. True, then he lay for a week, unable to just get out of bed, even when he tried to sit up, he turned inside out, and in the monastery hospital they gave him a decoction of heather - the only thing that did not cause nausea.
But the head was thinking, you can’t forbid it! It was then that Guy for the first time seriously wondered what was happening here and what he had gotten himself into. But he did not succeed in finding an answer.
While he was coming to his senses, the sheriff came up with the "brilliant" idea to catch Loxley with a silver arrow, and then with Lady Marion. Although the idea with Lady Marion belonged to Belleme, but the difference turned out to be small, because the result ... Well, yes, some crazy people are purely a natural disaster, worse than fire and flood combined, and Loxley came out as the clearest proof of this. And both times.
And then Guy was pulled out of his memories.
"I'm not asking you to forget what happened, not at all! But move it aside for a moment. Then you yourself will look at everything differently, but now, I beg you, come with me!”
The voice was soft, as if enveloping. Guy suddenly felt that someone had touched his face. Not a gust of wind or anything else, but the touch of a hand. He froze in surprise, confused, not knowing what to do. He almost never allowed anyone to touch his face, especially if it was not absolutely necessary - it was physically unpleasant, almost to the point of disgust. And everything ended well, if not a flash of rage and anger.
Meanwhile, someone's invisible warm fingers moved a lock of hair from his forehead, slid down his cheek and traced the mark on his neck from a cut with a dagger - the wound left by Loxley became inflamed, healed for a long time, and left a scar. Until now, it hurt
But this touch, even more of a caress, for some reason did not cause rejection, but rather the opposite. And deep inside, where the heart is, it suddenly became so warm, and Guy clearly saw the contours of the figure in front of him. There was something very familiar in this guise... Is it a human at all? This is how people go crazy!.
“No, Guy, you're not crazy. I will explain everything to you, and as many times as you need, but this cannot be done here. I beg you, let's go quickly, I can't leave mine ... I can't leave him for long. In general, I don't have much time for such things and even less opportunities. Please, come with me right now!”
The air around him rippled like water on a windy day, and a marvelous creature held out his hand to him! Like a human, at least very similar. And Guy again felt that magical feeling somewhere inside and almost took a step into this living haze to ... But to whom? Where was he called?
And then he suddenly realized what kind of creatures they were. Not what they are called - it, this name, can be changed, but the essence remains. No, he understood exactly who they were and what they were doing - they were hunting people, but in such a perverted way that there was nowhere to hide!
It hunts down its prey and lures it into a pleasant, bright place and lulls its vigilance with something...But it is absolutely necessary that a person go voluntarily, being in his mind, because apparently it is forbidden for them to force something to do, suppressing the will and using any other force. And these have chosen a method that is more disgusting than you can imagine. They somehow create for their victim the illusion of something that he trusts in the depths of himself, and unconditionally. It forces to drop shield and lower weapons. So you're doing it yourself to get... Get what?
And then it dawned on Guy - they do not even create an illusion, but rummage through memories and look for the most secret, the most joyful, the happiest there. After all, everyone has it, it’s just that for others it is hidden far and deep, where everyone is small and naive. And a person creates an illusion for themselv- On such a hook, which everyone has their own, they catch the unfortunate who do not understand what is happening and cannot protect themselves ...
And these take advantage of the moment to... What the hell!
“No, Guy, you are mistaken! It's not at all what you're thinking... I'm not...”
It darkened before his eyes, and in a single moment his insides seemed to freeze, it became unbearably painful to breathe, and in his mouth there was again the taste of blood, rotten water from the lake and bile. Guy mustered the last of his strength and barked at the top of his lungs:
— Get off to hell!
And he drew his sword and pointed it at the monster. Or rather, to the place where it seemed to be! All he heard in response was a heavy sigh of sorrow.
“I understand… I’m sorry I can’t stay any longer, I need to go back. But I am patient and I will wait for another opportunity. Maybe next time you will follow me, my…”
— Don't wait...
A sudden strong gust of wind rustled the leaves in the mighty crown and drowned out both Guy's words and voice. That moment the haze disappeared and it was all over. There was just a forest around, just a lake, just thickets of this grass with small white, slightly yellowish flowers that smelled of honey so that you could go crazy. As well as from the heat, midday and suffocating.
Or maybe everything seemed to be, and there was nothing? No voice, no creature?
Guy slid his sword back into its sheath, shook his head, and rubbed his temples to ward off the haze. He thought it was necessary to read the "Pater noster", but the words did not come. And he didn’t really want to, to be honest, he just stood a little, absently looking at the flowering meadowsweet. And then he walked over to Fury, pulled a flask from his saddlebag, took another sip of water, and rinsed his face. Yes, it seemed to be. It cannot be otherwise!
And, sitting in the saddle, he hastened to leave this place without looking back.
The wind picked up the remains of last year's foliage from the path and swirled it, but Guy, immersed in his thoughts, did not notice how he drove through the formed funnel. He tried to put out of his mind everything he seemed to see and perhaps hear. Because... Well, it can't be!
He did not yet know that he would never forget, and for the time being he was sure of the opposite. In Nottingham, he was instantly not up to it - the next day, Robert de Rainault went on a tour of the county and, of course, took him with. Thus began his official service as a deputy sheriff, which he soon hated with all his heart and soul, as well as his patrons ...