Grant What I Wish

Grant What I Wish - Chapter 15. Accept

Chapter 15. Accept

If you are joyful, I am.

If you grieve, or if you're bitter, or graceful,

I take on those qualities.

Like the shadow of a cypress tree in the meadow,

Like the shadow of a rose, I love

Close to the rose.

-Rumi

Nottingham Castle

1195

Alan was dead. Guy felt hollow at the knowledge that one of their own had been hunted down and murdered by Vasey. The murder had all of the earmarks of the Sheriff: strike from a position of surprise, and strike until the target is dead. Guy knew only too well how cruel the Sheriff could be; power was an aphrodisiac for him, and he would do whatever was necessary to obtain and keep that power. Guy was well aware of what Vasey was capable of doing. The former sheriff was sending Hood a message that any thought of diplomacy, any attempt at maintaining human decency, was at an end.

It was surely a fight to the death now, for each and every one of them, Guy thought grimly, with his name no doubt topping the list of those to be annihilated. He felt no fear for himself, but his heart clenched at the idea that Marian might be harmed. If Vasey knew that Marian was alive, he would not rest until he harmed her in retaliation for Guy's treachery. No matter that the Sheriff had attempted to murder him; it was a game of revenge for Vasey. He would not rest until his enemies were punished, Guy and Robin foremost; and if he could get to Guy through Marian, even better. He must not know that she is alive, no matter what happens, Guy thought. He hated to think of what Vasey might attempt were he to know she was here, in the castle.

He sunk onto a chair, exhausted by all that had happened that day. At the realization that the Sheriff had returned, everyone had sprung into action. Work had been performed to fortify the gate and courtyard from attack, while those who had set up camp outside moved their families and possessions into the castle to occupy new, safer living areas.

Guy's back ached from the effort of pushing carts and hauling lumber about, and he longed for his bed and sleep. He was now ensconced in his old chambers, and found himself fighting off the memories of all that had gone before-his arguments, struggles, and humiliations at the hands of the Sheriff. He had hoped to steal a few hours of rest before the castle came under siege, but feared that his mind was too overwrought for sleep. Still, it would not do to meet the oncoming challenge exhausted and fuzzy-minded.

Struggling wearily to his feet, he walked toward the bed, pulling his tunic and shirt over his head. He had just reclined upon the bed when a knock sounded upon the door.

Wondering in irritation what required his attention at this particular moment, he rose once more and opened the door to find Marian standing upon the threshold. Without speaking, he stepped back and motioned for her to enter.

She strode into the room in her usual confident way, but he thought that her eyes looked anxious. Moving toward the chair he had so recently occupied, she took off her cloak and veil and placed them carefully over the chair's back. He closed the door behind her and turned to face her, wondering what had brought her to him.

He noted in surprise that her hair was not in its usual severe braid. Instead, it spilled over her shoulders and down her back in a riot of tangled tresses. He remembered the day the Sheriff had ordered her hair cut as punishment for some rebellious infraction; she had not made a sound, but he had seen her eyes fill with tears and had chafed that there was nothing he could do to save her from such public humiliation. He had not realized how long her hair was now, and longed to sink his hands into it, to feel the long cool strands flow through his fingers.