The Dragon of Throxenby, Part 11
+++++
Before they had gone halfway, it began to rain. Still holding the torch, Guy had to let go of Quenilda's hand in order to tug up the hood of his cloak. Quenilda adjusted her own hood, then reached out and took Guy's hand again, a gesture that he found surprising, but not entirely displeasing. The further they walked, in fact, the less displeased he became, until he found he was feeling something very close to contentment, or perhaps happiness.
At last, they came to Nottingham, and although the gates were shut, Guy pounded on one with his fist. A metal shutter set in the gate opened inwards and a guard looked out, annoyed at first, then shocked. "My lord! What are you doing back here?"
"Where else should I be, after the dragon burnt down my home in Locksley?" Guy asked. "I killed it, by the way. Now open the gate."
The guard opened it. "You killed it? The dragon?"
"Yes, he did!" Quenilda announced as they strode in. "Its body is back in Locksley, you can go see it to-morrow. I'm afraid there's not much left of the village, though. It was a terrible fight."
Their walk to the castle was very much like their walk through Throxenby after killing the first dragon, Guy thought, except that this time, he wasn't on the point of collapse. Everywhere, there were people lining the streets, staring at them and murmuring. Guy realized that most of them were residents – former residents – of Locksley who had fled to the town, huddled wherever they could find some kind of rudimentary shelter. But this time, however, there was no welcoming committee, nobody cheering and clapping in the courtyard of the castle, no minstrel plucking a happy song. There were only guards, reacting to Guy with no less surprise than if he'd come back from the dead.
"Where's the Sheriff?" he demanded of the guard closest to the main door, a man he'd known for years now as a competent, if uninspired fighter.
The man stared at him quizzically for a moment, then replied, "In … the Great Hall." He paused, then added, "M'lord," paused again, then explained, "He has guests."
"The Earl of Throxenby?" Quenilda asked eagerly, and the guard nodded. "Yes, m'lady."
"Right," Guy said, then commanded, "Open the door."
After the man had done so, Guy handed him his torch, and they went in, crossing the corridor to the upper entrance of the Great Hall. The doors here were wide open, and a guard stood at each side; Guy saw the bored looks on their face before they recognized him and their expressions changed instantly. Smirking as they straightened up and tried to present a more disciplined appearance, Guy strode through to the platform at the top of the stairs, and stood for a moment, staring down at the company. Quenilda came up beside him, scanning the faces of the guests, and when Guy heard her little intake of breath, he glanced over to her. At first she smiled in sheer delight, but then the smile faded and was replaced by an anxious expression. Perhaps she wasn't quite certain how her family would react.
Flipping back the side of his cloak, Guy extended one arm to her. She took it with a grateful smile, and they descended the stairs together. As guest after guest noticed their arrival, heads turned and conversation ceased. In the ensuing silence, Quenilda's mother cried her daughter's name, then stood up and flew towards them. They reached the bottom step together, and mother and daughter embraced.
The Earl stood up as well with a broad smile, and made his way over with only slightly less speed. "Sir Guy. Quenilda."
"My lord!" Quenilda exclaimed, trying to curtsey, but the Earl reached out and pulled her into a hug. Watching them, Guy was surprised when the Countess reached over and threw her arms around him. She kissed both his cheeks and he could feel the tears running down her face as she cried, "Sir Guy, thank you, thank you for bringing my daughter back safely."
"My lady –" Guy wondered if he should explain everything there and then, and make her realize that it was as much due to Quenilda as to himself that they'd both got back safely. As soon as the Countess let go, however, the Earl was next, hugging him, slapping him on the back, and even kissing his cheeks as well. "Sir Guy, you have our gratitude yet again."
One of his happy blows landed on a bruise, and Guy tried not to wince. "My lord."
"Quenilda!" Isolda was there as well, and when she'd finished squeezing her sister, she turned to Guy and opened her arms for a quick embrace without even hesitating once. "Sir Guy! Oh, I've never been so glad to see you in my life! Thank you for bringing her back!"
She didn't go so far as to kiss him, but turned her attention swiftly back to Quenilda. "Quen, where have you been all this time? Father sent messengers all over the shire, to every village, and even to Robin Hood himself! We came all this way just to find you; we were so worried when the messengers reported that nobody, not even Robin Hood, had seen or heard from you! Mother and Father were almost frothing in panic!"
A servant came up close, one hand extended, and Quenilda took off her cloak and handed it over. Guy quickly did the same with his, and was aware of both the Earl and the Countess scrutinizing their dirty and bedraggled appearance. The Countess' eye especially lingered on Guy's face, taking in the bruises that were not hidden by his three days' growth of beard. When she turned to her daughter, her voice betrayed a slight amount of the panic that Isolda had indicated. "Quenilda, are you well? Are you hurt anywhere?"
"No, my lady, I am quite well," Quenilda said, but her mother was gripping her hands and gently touching the rope burns around her wrists. By the end of her sentence, Quenilda's voice had begun to quaver, and Guy watched as she bit her lip, hard, obviously trying not to cry.
"They did not mistreat her badly," Guy announced. "She is only hungry and thirsty and—" he couldn't resist adding—"fatigued."
Quenilda gave him a swift glance, and although she couldn't quite manage a smile to acknowledge his use of the word "fatigued," she nodded in agreement. The Countess led her to the table. "Come, my dear, sit down and eat. You'll feel better afterwards."
The Earl laid a hand on Guy's shoulder, and they waited until servants had brought more chairs and place settings, then sat down as well. Quenilda ended up between the Earl and her grandfather, whom Guy hadn't noticed before, with Guy on Thurstan's other side. Thurstan finished giving his granddaughter a hug, too, then turned to Guy. "I'm so happy that you are both safe and well."
"Thank you," Guy replied. Without waiting for the servants, he reached for his own selection of food from the platters nearest him, and a quick glance to the side showed him that Quenilda was doing the same, although more discreetly.
"Very touching, this family reunion," the Sheriff said from the top of the table. Chewing a piece of meat, Guy looked up at him as he continued, "I must admit, Gisborne, when I heard that you'd vanished, I thought you'd crawled away into the forest to die, or let Hood kill you."
Looking away, Guy noticed the man at the Sheriff's right hand, a man he'd never seen before, even though the other faces around the table were all familiar to him. The man was tall and blond, and because he reminded Guy somewhat of King Richard, Guy found himself disliking him on sight. Noticing the direction of Guy's glare, the Sheriff smiled mirthlessly and said, "You haven't met Sir Edmund of Kimberworth, have you, Gisborne? Once you were gone, I took the liberty of installing him as my new master-at-arms."
Sir Edmund nodded politely, but Guy was too stunned to reciprocate. He'd been replaced? He no longer worked for the Sheriff of Nottingham? After losing his house to the dragon and his remaining fortune to Robin Hood, now he'd lost his position as well? His mouth went dry and he was unable to swallow the now-tasteless meat until he'd taken a big drink of wine.
"So, you're Sir Guy of Gisborne," Sir Edmund drawled. "I've heard all about you from the Sheriff."
He and the Sheriff both smiled the same derisive smile, and Sir Edmund went on, "You know, I think it can't be true that he killed the dragon at Throxenby. I think the young lady there must have done it for him, and they've paid their minstrel to spin us a different story."
Guy's hand tightened on his goblet, and he controlled his impulse to fling his wine into the man's face. If he only had his sword … or could get close enough to use his dagger.
"I thank you for the compliment you obviously meant to bestow on my granddaughter's strength and cunning," Thurstan said, lifting his own goblet in the direction of Sir Edmund with a bland smile. At the comment, the tension in the atmosphere dissipated almost instantly.
"I would thank you as well, Sir Edmund, but you are mistaken," Quenilda replied. She sounded almost calm again, but Guy thought he heard the slightest tremour in her voice. "Sir Guy slew the dragon at Throxenby single-handedly, and he also delivered the killing blow to the dragon at Locksley!"
"The dragon at Locksley?" the Sheriff asked, and Guy smirked at how astounded both men looked. Speaking slowly as though to an idiot, the Sheriff went on. "You killed the dragon at Locksley?"
"I did, yes," Guy replied, letting his voice drip with pride as a way, no matter how obliquely, of getting back at the Sheriff for his loss of position. "You can see its carcase to-morrow if you want."
"It was a terrible battle, my lord," Quenilda said. "Sir Guy was blessed to escape with only one burn."
The Sheriff wrinkled his nose at the mention of blessings in the same context as Guy, but before he or Sir Edmund could speak, Quenilda had turned to her father. "Did you see the dragon, my lord? Did it come here first? It was looking for Sir Guy, for revenge."
"I saw it flame this castle, just like in Throxenby," the Earl affirmed. "You can see the scorch marks on the wall to-morrow, when it's light. But now, my daughter, stop talking and eat up."
"Looking for Sir Guy?" the Sheriff scoffed. "Wanting revenge? You make it sound almost human, girl."
Swallowing hastily, Quenilda said, "Not human, my lord, but I know it wanted revenge on Sir Guy for killing its dam."
"Its dam?" Sir Edmund exclaimed. "You're not telling us that the other dragon was female?"
There was a stunned silence in the hall as Quenilda told the story of her dream, stopping only occasionally to drink a little wine. Although he had heard it before, Guy listened respectfully, but also took the opportunity to eat.
"So," the Sheriff said when Quenilda had finally finished. "Saint Guy the Dragonslayer is actually responsible for killing a mother and its baby. Oh, but I forgot. You're not a saint, are you, Gisborne?"
"I've never claimed to be one," Guy said. "And from what I've heard, even the baby, as you call it, ate at least one human."
"Perhaps we should eat some dragon flesh, then," Sir Edmund suggested, and Guy smiled the false smile he'd perfected under the Sheriff's rule. Before he could invite the man to do just that, however, Quenilda spoke up again. "You cannot, my lord. Its blood eats away metal like rust – Sir Guy has lost two swords to it already. And even if you were able to cut it up somehow, it would surely kill you from the inside out."
Sir Edmund looked down at his plate with a slightly sickened expression, and Guy groaned inwardly at the lost chance. On the other side of the table, Isolda asked quietly, "Dragons lay eggs? Like chickens?"
"That's what Much said," Quenilda answered with a little smile. "Except he said ducks."
"Much?" Isolda's face lit up at the name. "You don't mean Robin Hood's Much?"
Guy felt himself tense and hoped that the Sheriff hadn't heard, but his hope was in vain. Even as the Earl quietly told Quenilda again to stop talking and eat, the Sheriff had already fixed her with his unrelenting gaze. "What's this about Robin Hood?"
"We met two of Robin Hood's men on the way, my lord," Quenilda reported. "Much and Allan a Dale."
"They just walked up and introduced themselves to you, did they?" the Sheriff scoffed.
"Did you see Robin Hood himself?" Isolda asked eagerly, her face so bright with anticipation that Guy felt one quick stab of pity for Ivo. She had to wait for her answer, though, as Quenilda was chewing and had to swallow first.
"Yes," she finally said. "We saw Robin Hood." She waited while Isolda squealed audibly with delight, then went on. "After we escaped from Osbert and his men—"
"Osbert?" the Earl asked suddenly. "Our Osbert?"
"Yes, my lord, our Osbert, the father of the first maid to be sacrificed," Quenilda explained, turning back to him. "He was angry with you and I think with me, too, but he took his anger out on Sir Guy, I don't know why."
"Because Sir Guy was convenient," Thurstan said, and Quenilda turned to him in surprise. "Grandfather?"
"Osbert knew he could do what he liked to Sir Guy without your father threatening to hurt him back twice as hard," Thurstan said, and Guy wondered briefly what it would be like to be part of a family that looked out for each other like that. Then Thurstan made an encouraging gesture. "But now I've interrupted your tale, my granddaughter. Do go on."
And after a moment of silent contemplation, Quenilda did. "Osbert was one of the robbers I saw in my dream, the ones who wanted to take Sir Guy to Robin Hood for the reward, but we escaped from them. And then Robin Hood's men found us in the forest and took us to their camp. Robin Hood was there, but he'd been wounded in a swordfight—"
Isolda gasped in dismay, but the Sheriff crowed, "Hah! I knew it!"
Leaning forward, as eager in his own way as Isolda had been in hers, he asked, "Was he full of gangrene? Was he dying?"
"No," Quenilda said simply. "His wound was infected, but it hadn't reached the point of gangrene yet."
The Sheriff sank down in disappointment, Isolda heaved a sigh of relief, and the Earl said, "Quenilda, eat. Sir Guy can tell us more about Osbert."
Quenilda bent obediently to her food, and Guy said, "There's not much to tell. Your guard Osbert had two other men with him. They took me prisoner, and when Lady Quenilda came along, they took her, too."
"Humphrey!" Quenilda suddenly exclaimed, and Guy blinked in surprise, looking around for the servant but not seeing him. Quenilda went on, "He was supposed to be following me, but I never saw him after I left the gate. What happened to him?"
"He fell off his horse and broke his leg," the Earl told her. "Did you know he couldn't ride?"
Quenilda gaped at him with her mouth open, then finally managed to reply. "My lord! I had no idea! Oh no – I could have got him killed! Will he be all right? Will he walk again?"
"Albreda's taking good care of him," the Earl said, "and according to her, he'll live and he won't even limp too badly, just enough that we can finally tell him apart from Godfrey. But you, my daughter, you need to eat, or you won't live to learn your lesson!"
Quenilda's horrified expression remained until the Earl tapped her plate with the tip of his knife, but she had scarcely taken two bites before Isolda asked impatiently, "Tell us, Quen, how did you meet up with Robin Hood? Did he help you escape from Osbert?"
The Countess tried to shush her, but Quenilda was all too ready to start talking again. As she related the story, Guy listened as enthralled as everybody else, finally discovering how he'd been transported far away from Osbert's team only to wake up in the clutches of Hood's men.
"I'm surprised Hood let Gisborne go," the Sheriff remarked. "After what happened in the Holy Land, I would have thought he'd carve Guy up like a roast goose!"
Sir Edmund smirked at that, but nobody else did.
Remembering the arrow in front of his nose, Guy was about to mention the fact that Hood had indeed wanted to kill him, but Quenilda spoke before he could.
"We made a deal," Quenilda said, fingering the pouch she wore at her waist. "Robin Hood would let Sir Guy go free to fight the dragon if I helped care for his wound."
"You made a deal with Robin Hood," the Sheriff stated slowly, in a flat, expressionless tone of voice that Guy knew was only leading up to a very emotional explosion. "And did you keep your end of the bargain? Did you care for his wound?"
"Yes, my lord," Quenilda replied innocently. "And Sir Guy slew the dragon."
The Sheriff stood up, leaning over the table and supporting himself with both hands. He was breathing hard, and his voice became louder and more furious as he continued to speak. "You helped Robin Hood? You helped keep the outlaw alive? You had the chance to poison him, to rid us of this scourge, and you didn't? And you, Gisborne—!"
If there hadn't been so many people in the way, Guy thought the Sheriff might have thrown his goblet at him. Instead, he just kept shouting. "You get yourself mixed up with yet another girl and what happens? You're right in Robin Hood's camp, but instead of killing him, you go off to play with a baby dragon instead? You are incompetent! You are useless! I'm glad you're no longer working for me! I'm glad I took the chance to get a better master-at-arms – anybody would be better than you! Marian would have been better than you – at least she had the guts to try and kill me!"
There was a stunned silence in the room, and even the servants had stopped what they were doing in order to see how the Sheriff's guests would react. Guy already knew from long experience that there was no point in trying to defend himself against the Sheriff's tirade, but that didn't keep him from feeling sick with fury and humiliation. He'd slain a dragon – he'd slain two dragons – and the man still raged on about his incompetence, in front of Quenilda and her family no less? He glanced down at his plate, clenching his fingers to keep from battering the Sheriff's face with it.
"Is that the same Sheriff speaking that I heard only a few hours ago, wanting to hide in the dungeons while screaming at his guards to get out there and kill that dragon?" Thurstan asked. His voice was exactly so nonchalant as to turn the Sheriff's expression into one of murderous embarrassment, and Guy almost laughed at loud at how fast the situation had changed.
"My lord Sheriff had that inspection of the cells and the torture chamber on his schedule for weeks!" Sir Edmund replied, doing his best to sound both indignant and honest. Guy looked away, disgusted at how Sir Edmund already knew the ways of making himself indispensable to the Sheriff, and wondered if the Sheriff had already started calling him incompetent, too.
The Sheriff gave his new lieutenant a quick look, then sank back into his chair with a quick smile, obviously going along with the lie in order to save face. "Absolutely right, Edmund. I have to make sure everything's in working order for when we capture Robin Hood, or members of his gang!"
"Of course," the Earl replied easily.
"Or anybody who's been known to consort with outlaws," the Sheriff went on, giving first Guy and then Quenilda a significant glance. Guy stopped eating and put his hand down to his dagger. It would be just like the Sheriff to give the order to have them both arrested and thrown into the very dungeons he'd just mentioned.
"Sometimes we must ally with our enemies in order to defeat a greater threat," the Earl said, and his sentence sounded more like a warning than a simple statement. "There's no shame in that."
"Robin Hood wanted to kill Sir Guy," Quenilda spoke up. "But he was also worried that the dragon might burn down the forest or other places in search of Sir Guy, and that letting it stay alive would mean only more destruction and more innocent people getting killed. He put aside his thoughts of revenge to help save others, and so did Sir Guy."
"How very noble," the Sheriff sneered.
"Yes," the Earl said simply. "It is."
Guy glanced over at him. Their eyes met briefly, and instead of the scorn that he'd seen in the Sheriff's expression, he saw the man nod in acceptance, even respect. It wasn't something he was used to seeing in his direction, and once he'd recovered from his surprise, he realized he enjoyed it, and didn't want the moment of approval to end. But then it was too late; the Earl had already turned back to his daughter. She glanced over her father's shoulder, however, and gave Guy a quick smile that conveyed much more than just approval.
Part 12
Before they had gone halfway, it began to rain. Still holding the torch, Guy had to let go of Quenilda's hand in order to tug up the hood of his cloak. Quenilda adjusted her own hood, then reached out and took Guy's hand again, a gesture that he found surprising, but not entirely displeasing. The further they walked, in fact, the less displeased he became, until he found he was feeling something very close to contentment, or perhaps happiness.
At last, they came to Nottingham, and although the gates were shut, Guy pounded on one with his fist. A metal shutter set in the gate opened inwards and a guard looked out, annoyed at first, then shocked. "My lord! What are you doing back here?"
"Where else should I be, after the dragon burnt down my home in Locksley?" Guy asked. "I killed it, by the way. Now open the gate."
The guard opened it. "You killed it? The dragon?"
"Yes, he did!" Quenilda announced as they strode in. "Its body is back in Locksley, you can go see it to-morrow. I'm afraid there's not much left of the village, though. It was a terrible fight."
Their walk to the castle was very much like their walk through Throxenby after killing the first dragon, Guy thought, except that this time, he wasn't on the point of collapse. Everywhere, there were people lining the streets, staring at them and murmuring. Guy realized that most of them were residents – former residents – of Locksley who had fled to the town, huddled wherever they could find some kind of rudimentary shelter. But this time, however, there was no welcoming committee, nobody cheering and clapping in the courtyard of the castle, no minstrel plucking a happy song. There were only guards, reacting to Guy with no less surprise than if he'd come back from the dead.
"Where's the Sheriff?" he demanded of the guard closest to the main door, a man he'd known for years now as a competent, if uninspired fighter.
The man stared at him quizzically for a moment, then replied, "In … the Great Hall." He paused, then added, "M'lord," paused again, then explained, "He has guests."
"The Earl of Throxenby?" Quenilda asked eagerly, and the guard nodded. "Yes, m'lady."
"Right," Guy said, then commanded, "Open the door."
After the man had done so, Guy handed him his torch, and they went in, crossing the corridor to the upper entrance of the Great Hall. The doors here were wide open, and a guard stood at each side; Guy saw the bored looks on their face before they recognized him and their expressions changed instantly. Smirking as they straightened up and tried to present a more disciplined appearance, Guy strode through to the platform at the top of the stairs, and stood for a moment, staring down at the company. Quenilda came up beside him, scanning the faces of the guests, and when Guy heard her little intake of breath, he glanced over to her. At first she smiled in sheer delight, but then the smile faded and was replaced by an anxious expression. Perhaps she wasn't quite certain how her family would react.
Flipping back the side of his cloak, Guy extended one arm to her. She took it with a grateful smile, and they descended the stairs together. As guest after guest noticed their arrival, heads turned and conversation ceased. In the ensuing silence, Quenilda's mother cried her daughter's name, then stood up and flew towards them. They reached the bottom step together, and mother and daughter embraced.
The Earl stood up as well with a broad smile, and made his way over with only slightly less speed. "Sir Guy. Quenilda."
"My lord!" Quenilda exclaimed, trying to curtsey, but the Earl reached out and pulled her into a hug. Watching them, Guy was surprised when the Countess reached over and threw her arms around him. She kissed both his cheeks and he could feel the tears running down her face as she cried, "Sir Guy, thank you, thank you for bringing my daughter back safely."
"My lady –" Guy wondered if he should explain everything there and then, and make her realize that it was as much due to Quenilda as to himself that they'd both got back safely. As soon as the Countess let go, however, the Earl was next, hugging him, slapping him on the back, and even kissing his cheeks as well. "Sir Guy, you have our gratitude yet again."
One of his happy blows landed on a bruise, and Guy tried not to wince. "My lord."
"Quenilda!" Isolda was there as well, and when she'd finished squeezing her sister, she turned to Guy and opened her arms for a quick embrace without even hesitating once. "Sir Guy! Oh, I've never been so glad to see you in my life! Thank you for bringing her back!"
She didn't go so far as to kiss him, but turned her attention swiftly back to Quenilda. "Quen, where have you been all this time? Father sent messengers all over the shire, to every village, and even to Robin Hood himself! We came all this way just to find you; we were so worried when the messengers reported that nobody, not even Robin Hood, had seen or heard from you! Mother and Father were almost frothing in panic!"
A servant came up close, one hand extended, and Quenilda took off her cloak and handed it over. Guy quickly did the same with his, and was aware of both the Earl and the Countess scrutinizing their dirty and bedraggled appearance. The Countess' eye especially lingered on Guy's face, taking in the bruises that were not hidden by his three days' growth of beard. When she turned to her daughter, her voice betrayed a slight amount of the panic that Isolda had indicated. "Quenilda, are you well? Are you hurt anywhere?"
"No, my lady, I am quite well," Quenilda said, but her mother was gripping her hands and gently touching the rope burns around her wrists. By the end of her sentence, Quenilda's voice had begun to quaver, and Guy watched as she bit her lip, hard, obviously trying not to cry.
"They did not mistreat her badly," Guy announced. "She is only hungry and thirsty and—" he couldn't resist adding—"fatigued."
Quenilda gave him a swift glance, and although she couldn't quite manage a smile to acknowledge his use of the word "fatigued," she nodded in agreement. The Countess led her to the table. "Come, my dear, sit down and eat. You'll feel better afterwards."
The Earl laid a hand on Guy's shoulder, and they waited until servants had brought more chairs and place settings, then sat down as well. Quenilda ended up between the Earl and her grandfather, whom Guy hadn't noticed before, with Guy on Thurstan's other side. Thurstan finished giving his granddaughter a hug, too, then turned to Guy. "I'm so happy that you are both safe and well."
"Thank you," Guy replied. Without waiting for the servants, he reached for his own selection of food from the platters nearest him, and a quick glance to the side showed him that Quenilda was doing the same, although more discreetly.
"Very touching, this family reunion," the Sheriff said from the top of the table. Chewing a piece of meat, Guy looked up at him as he continued, "I must admit, Gisborne, when I heard that you'd vanished, I thought you'd crawled away into the forest to die, or let Hood kill you."
Looking away, Guy noticed the man at the Sheriff's right hand, a man he'd never seen before, even though the other faces around the table were all familiar to him. The man was tall and blond, and because he reminded Guy somewhat of King Richard, Guy found himself disliking him on sight. Noticing the direction of Guy's glare, the Sheriff smiled mirthlessly and said, "You haven't met Sir Edmund of Kimberworth, have you, Gisborne? Once you were gone, I took the liberty of installing him as my new master-at-arms."
Sir Edmund nodded politely, but Guy was too stunned to reciprocate. He'd been replaced? He no longer worked for the Sheriff of Nottingham? After losing his house to the dragon and his remaining fortune to Robin Hood, now he'd lost his position as well? His mouth went dry and he was unable to swallow the now-tasteless meat until he'd taken a big drink of wine.
"So, you're Sir Guy of Gisborne," Sir Edmund drawled. "I've heard all about you from the Sheriff."
He and the Sheriff both smiled the same derisive smile, and Sir Edmund went on, "You know, I think it can't be true that he killed the dragon at Throxenby. I think the young lady there must have done it for him, and they've paid their minstrel to spin us a different story."
Guy's hand tightened on his goblet, and he controlled his impulse to fling his wine into the man's face. If he only had his sword … or could get close enough to use his dagger.
"I thank you for the compliment you obviously meant to bestow on my granddaughter's strength and cunning," Thurstan said, lifting his own goblet in the direction of Sir Edmund with a bland smile. At the comment, the tension in the atmosphere dissipated almost instantly.
"I would thank you as well, Sir Edmund, but you are mistaken," Quenilda replied. She sounded almost calm again, but Guy thought he heard the slightest tremour in her voice. "Sir Guy slew the dragon at Throxenby single-handedly, and he also delivered the killing blow to the dragon at Locksley!"
"The dragon at Locksley?" the Sheriff asked, and Guy smirked at how astounded both men looked. Speaking slowly as though to an idiot, the Sheriff went on. "You killed the dragon at Locksley?"
"I did, yes," Guy replied, letting his voice drip with pride as a way, no matter how obliquely, of getting back at the Sheriff for his loss of position. "You can see its carcase to-morrow if you want."
"It was a terrible battle, my lord," Quenilda said. "Sir Guy was blessed to escape with only one burn."
The Sheriff wrinkled his nose at the mention of blessings in the same context as Guy, but before he or Sir Edmund could speak, Quenilda had turned to her father. "Did you see the dragon, my lord? Did it come here first? It was looking for Sir Guy, for revenge."
"I saw it flame this castle, just like in Throxenby," the Earl affirmed. "You can see the scorch marks on the wall to-morrow, when it's light. But now, my daughter, stop talking and eat up."
"Looking for Sir Guy?" the Sheriff scoffed. "Wanting revenge? You make it sound almost human, girl."
Swallowing hastily, Quenilda said, "Not human, my lord, but I know it wanted revenge on Sir Guy for killing its dam."
"Its dam?" Sir Edmund exclaimed. "You're not telling us that the other dragon was female?"
There was a stunned silence in the hall as Quenilda told the story of her dream, stopping only occasionally to drink a little wine. Although he had heard it before, Guy listened respectfully, but also took the opportunity to eat.
"So," the Sheriff said when Quenilda had finally finished. "Saint Guy the Dragonslayer is actually responsible for killing a mother and its baby. Oh, but I forgot. You're not a saint, are you, Gisborne?"
"I've never claimed to be one," Guy said. "And from what I've heard, even the baby, as you call it, ate at least one human."
"Perhaps we should eat some dragon flesh, then," Sir Edmund suggested, and Guy smiled the false smile he'd perfected under the Sheriff's rule. Before he could invite the man to do just that, however, Quenilda spoke up again. "You cannot, my lord. Its blood eats away metal like rust – Sir Guy has lost two swords to it already. And even if you were able to cut it up somehow, it would surely kill you from the inside out."
Sir Edmund looked down at his plate with a slightly sickened expression, and Guy groaned inwardly at the lost chance. On the other side of the table, Isolda asked quietly, "Dragons lay eggs? Like chickens?"
"That's what Much said," Quenilda answered with a little smile. "Except he said ducks."
"Much?" Isolda's face lit up at the name. "You don't mean Robin Hood's Much?"
Guy felt himself tense and hoped that the Sheriff hadn't heard, but his hope was in vain. Even as the Earl quietly told Quenilda again to stop talking and eat, the Sheriff had already fixed her with his unrelenting gaze. "What's this about Robin Hood?"
"We met two of Robin Hood's men on the way, my lord," Quenilda reported. "Much and Allan a Dale."
"They just walked up and introduced themselves to you, did they?" the Sheriff scoffed.
"Did you see Robin Hood himself?" Isolda asked eagerly, her face so bright with anticipation that Guy felt one quick stab of pity for Ivo. She had to wait for her answer, though, as Quenilda was chewing and had to swallow first.
"Yes," she finally said. "We saw Robin Hood." She waited while Isolda squealed audibly with delight, then went on. "After we escaped from Osbert and his men—"
"Osbert?" the Earl asked suddenly. "Our Osbert?"
"Yes, my lord, our Osbert, the father of the first maid to be sacrificed," Quenilda explained, turning back to him. "He was angry with you and I think with me, too, but he took his anger out on Sir Guy, I don't know why."
"Because Sir Guy was convenient," Thurstan said, and Quenilda turned to him in surprise. "Grandfather?"
"Osbert knew he could do what he liked to Sir Guy without your father threatening to hurt him back twice as hard," Thurstan said, and Guy wondered briefly what it would be like to be part of a family that looked out for each other like that. Then Thurstan made an encouraging gesture. "But now I've interrupted your tale, my granddaughter. Do go on."
And after a moment of silent contemplation, Quenilda did. "Osbert was one of the robbers I saw in my dream, the ones who wanted to take Sir Guy to Robin Hood for the reward, but we escaped from them. And then Robin Hood's men found us in the forest and took us to their camp. Robin Hood was there, but he'd been wounded in a swordfight—"
Isolda gasped in dismay, but the Sheriff crowed, "Hah! I knew it!"
Leaning forward, as eager in his own way as Isolda had been in hers, he asked, "Was he full of gangrene? Was he dying?"
"No," Quenilda said simply. "His wound was infected, but it hadn't reached the point of gangrene yet."
The Sheriff sank down in disappointment, Isolda heaved a sigh of relief, and the Earl said, "Quenilda, eat. Sir Guy can tell us more about Osbert."
Quenilda bent obediently to her food, and Guy said, "There's not much to tell. Your guard Osbert had two other men with him. They took me prisoner, and when Lady Quenilda came along, they took her, too."
"Humphrey!" Quenilda suddenly exclaimed, and Guy blinked in surprise, looking around for the servant but not seeing him. Quenilda went on, "He was supposed to be following me, but I never saw him after I left the gate. What happened to him?"
"He fell off his horse and broke his leg," the Earl told her. "Did you know he couldn't ride?"
Quenilda gaped at him with her mouth open, then finally managed to reply. "My lord! I had no idea! Oh no – I could have got him killed! Will he be all right? Will he walk again?"
"Albreda's taking good care of him," the Earl said, "and according to her, he'll live and he won't even limp too badly, just enough that we can finally tell him apart from Godfrey. But you, my daughter, you need to eat, or you won't live to learn your lesson!"
Quenilda's horrified expression remained until the Earl tapped her plate with the tip of his knife, but she had scarcely taken two bites before Isolda asked impatiently, "Tell us, Quen, how did you meet up with Robin Hood? Did he help you escape from Osbert?"
The Countess tried to shush her, but Quenilda was all too ready to start talking again. As she related the story, Guy listened as enthralled as everybody else, finally discovering how he'd been transported far away from Osbert's team only to wake up in the clutches of Hood's men.
"I'm surprised Hood let Gisborne go," the Sheriff remarked. "After what happened in the Holy Land, I would have thought he'd carve Guy up like a roast goose!"
Sir Edmund smirked at that, but nobody else did.
Remembering the arrow in front of his nose, Guy was about to mention the fact that Hood had indeed wanted to kill him, but Quenilda spoke before he could.
"We made a deal," Quenilda said, fingering the pouch she wore at her waist. "Robin Hood would let Sir Guy go free to fight the dragon if I helped care for his wound."
"You made a deal with Robin Hood," the Sheriff stated slowly, in a flat, expressionless tone of voice that Guy knew was only leading up to a very emotional explosion. "And did you keep your end of the bargain? Did you care for his wound?"
"Yes, my lord," Quenilda replied innocently. "And Sir Guy slew the dragon."
The Sheriff stood up, leaning over the table and supporting himself with both hands. He was breathing hard, and his voice became louder and more furious as he continued to speak. "You helped Robin Hood? You helped keep the outlaw alive? You had the chance to poison him, to rid us of this scourge, and you didn't? And you, Gisborne—!"
If there hadn't been so many people in the way, Guy thought the Sheriff might have thrown his goblet at him. Instead, he just kept shouting. "You get yourself mixed up with yet another girl and what happens? You're right in Robin Hood's camp, but instead of killing him, you go off to play with a baby dragon instead? You are incompetent! You are useless! I'm glad you're no longer working for me! I'm glad I took the chance to get a better master-at-arms – anybody would be better than you! Marian would have been better than you – at least she had the guts to try and kill me!"
There was a stunned silence in the room, and even the servants had stopped what they were doing in order to see how the Sheriff's guests would react. Guy already knew from long experience that there was no point in trying to defend himself against the Sheriff's tirade, but that didn't keep him from feeling sick with fury and humiliation. He'd slain a dragon – he'd slain two dragons – and the man still raged on about his incompetence, in front of Quenilda and her family no less? He glanced down at his plate, clenching his fingers to keep from battering the Sheriff's face with it.
"Is that the same Sheriff speaking that I heard only a few hours ago, wanting to hide in the dungeons while screaming at his guards to get out there and kill that dragon?" Thurstan asked. His voice was exactly so nonchalant as to turn the Sheriff's expression into one of murderous embarrassment, and Guy almost laughed at loud at how fast the situation had changed.
"My lord Sheriff had that inspection of the cells and the torture chamber on his schedule for weeks!" Sir Edmund replied, doing his best to sound both indignant and honest. Guy looked away, disgusted at how Sir Edmund already knew the ways of making himself indispensable to the Sheriff, and wondered if the Sheriff had already started calling him incompetent, too.
The Sheriff gave his new lieutenant a quick look, then sank back into his chair with a quick smile, obviously going along with the lie in order to save face. "Absolutely right, Edmund. I have to make sure everything's in working order for when we capture Robin Hood, or members of his gang!"
"Of course," the Earl replied easily.
"Or anybody who's been known to consort with outlaws," the Sheriff went on, giving first Guy and then Quenilda a significant glance. Guy stopped eating and put his hand down to his dagger. It would be just like the Sheriff to give the order to have them both arrested and thrown into the very dungeons he'd just mentioned.
"Sometimes we must ally with our enemies in order to defeat a greater threat," the Earl said, and his sentence sounded more like a warning than a simple statement. "There's no shame in that."
"Robin Hood wanted to kill Sir Guy," Quenilda spoke up. "But he was also worried that the dragon might burn down the forest or other places in search of Sir Guy, and that letting it stay alive would mean only more destruction and more innocent people getting killed. He put aside his thoughts of revenge to help save others, and so did Sir Guy."
"How very noble," the Sheriff sneered.
"Yes," the Earl said simply. "It is."
Guy glanced over at him. Their eyes met briefly, and instead of the scorn that he'd seen in the Sheriff's expression, he saw the man nod in acceptance, even respect. It wasn't something he was used to seeing in his direction, and once he'd recovered from his surprise, he realized he enjoyed it, and didn't want the moment of approval to end. But then it was too late; the Earl had already turned back to his daughter. She glanced over her father's shoulder, however, and gave Guy a quick smile that conveyed much more than just approval.
Part 12