The Forgotten Keepsake

Chapter 23

XXIII

Mina was worried.

She had been in Clun the past few days, helping out there as best she could in the aftermath of the attack by the Sheriff's guards and what she had seen there had left her shaken. As soon as she had heard about the attack she had feared the worst – she was of course familiar with such devastation having witnessed the destruction of her own village all those years ago and it was with a feeling of deepest dread that she had made her way over there to see what, if anything, she could do.

It was little consolation to anybody that the attack in Clun had not been as bad as what had taken place in Castlebrook. The houses may have been left standing but the scene in Clun was very much the same; many injured and in pain, many mourning, many shocked and scared, many lost and despairing. Mina may have experienced a similar fate to these people but still she could not take away their pain or tell them how to pick up the pieces as much as she wanted to.

On top of that, there had been many losses amongst the Sheriff's men and in those first moments upon arriving in Clun, Mina had been terrified she would be confronted with the sight of Guy amongst the dead. She was however not the only woman to love a man on 'the side of the aggressors' – as she searched amongst the dead, she found herself witness to the heart-breaking scene of one of the village woman mourning her husband – one of the guards who lay there slain like so much meat.

What had been the point of all this? What had it all been for? It seemed so senseless...

She longed to see Guy, to check if he was ok, what if he was injured? It scared her to think that he might be. Although nobody had said anything about him being involved in the attack, she could not be certain that it was not the case and as much as she wanted to ask the villagers if they had seen him, she knew it would not go down well if she did. She also wished to know why Clun had been attacked, what had the Sheriff to gain from terrorizing the poor souls there?

Her thoughts also turned to Castlebrook; it terrified her to think that Clun might be just the beginning, that the Sheriff may turn his attentions to other villages such as her own, and that she might end up watching Castlebrook burn all over again.

It was on the third day since the attack that she began to think of leaving. She did not want to go but she did not think she could stand to stay and live in fear of history repeating itself.

In the aftermath there was much talk of the events in Clun but not just the events in Clun; it was not long before the conversation turned to many of the Sheriff's past atrocities and the part that Guy had played in many of them. It pained her to hear of such things and it was enormously difficult to reconcile the man that she knew with what she was now so often hearing about him, but mostly she just felt sad, scared, and helpless.

Perhaps it would be better to go away, to leave it all behind her - for it was not looking much like there would be a happy ending to this story here – they were all at the mercy of a very cruel master; Guy, herself, the people of Nottingham, Clun, and Castlebrook and there was little any of them could do about it.

It had lately become her custom to steal away of an evening and sit by the river to think things over and this was just what she was doing, leaning against the old oak tree, her head in her hands as she felt warm fingers curl gently around her wrists and pull her into an embrace.

She knew straight away who it was.

She wondered for a split second if she was dreaming but then as his warm body enveloped hers, she was perhaps the happiest she had ever been to discover that she was not.

"Are you alright?" Guy whispered in her ear, placing a kiss just above it. She nodded and squeezed him tighter, overwhelmed with relief, joy, and a million other emotions; she had so longed to see him and now it was so incredibly wonderful that he was here with her that she felt herself begin to weep. He held her close, eyes closed, nuzzling into her, stroking her hair and whispering endearments – it was purest bliss.