The Storyteller

Chapter 5: Bandages

Three days had come and gone. Lynna had occupied herself with her weaving and had taken to telling some of the Castle servants a few tales during supper. It was one of the only times she was permitted to leave her room and she relished it. The company of the serving girls and boys gave her a fragment of friendship. She enjoyed talking with them, even if it was only for an hour or two.

The day proceeded in its normal, tedious fashion. By noon Lynna was just starting to consider the day productive. She had spent all morning re-threading strands of yarn which had gone into the loom awkwardly. It was a dull task, but at last she had just about finished and was finally moving forward with her work.

She heard someone step inside her room and for one moment she payed the intruder no mind as she let the strand of yarn in her hand run into the loom before turning to look. She had a smile of working contentment on her face, but it quickly vanished into a look of surprised horror as she stared upwards at Guy. “My lord?” She asked with a squeak. His hateful glares felt like sharp barbs in her chest. She averted her eyes, as she had become accustomed to doing whenever she was near him.

“The Sheriff wishes to see you, runt.” Gisborne snapped.

The insulting nickname had ceased bothering her somewhere around the fifth time he had used it. What did she care for how he addressed her, when secretly she cursed him in all the ways she knew how.

Lynna nodded and rose to her feet in silence. She had learned that asking questions would only get her a cuff about the ears or a slap to the face. She had already earned enough bruises to make any warrior proud, she had no desire to decorate her body further.

She kept up with the man as best she could, her eyes focusing on her feet and nowhere else. She felt a prickly sensation along her neck, as if someone was watching her. Casually, she let her eyes roam and her head tilt upwards but a little. Guy was staring at her. Her stomach turned and she looked away again. It was such an odd look; full of anger yet there had been a curious look in the glare. As if he was trying to read her like a book. Well, she was the storyteller and she did not wish to be read. She shrunk inward on herself and as a result her limp became heavier and less comfortable. She wished she could wrap a cape about her and disappear underneath the castle stones instead of enduring Gisborne's insufferable glares.

Once again she was led into the Great Hall. She gulped at the sight of the stairs. Was he going to kick her down them yet again? She remembered how much it had hurt the last time, and she had only just recovered from it.

“And here she is.” Lynna recognized the Sheriff's mockingly cheerful voice.

She blinked and looked down to see several men staring back up at her. They were all well groomed and dressed in fine cloths. Lynna found herself staring back down at them. They must be nobles. There was no mistaking it. If that was so, then what business did she have to with them?

Guy looked as if he was about to shove her down the steps again, but the Sheriff stopped him, “Ah, no, not this time Gisborne. I would prefer you leave the girl without a broken neck.”

Lynna sighed in relief and this only seemed to further Guy's annoyance with her. He hauled her up off the ground by the collar of her dress, with one hand, and proceeded to drag her down the steps. Lynna tried not to physically gag as the collar of her dress chocked her. She was slammed back onto her own two feet once Guy had reached the bottom. She winced visibly at the shock to her legs. She half limped, half stumbled over to the Sheriff, giving him a polite bow.

“I am very glad to see you, m'dear.” The Sheriff grinned, “We could use a little...entertainment.” A few of the other men in the room restrained chuckles, the others remained watching her silently.