Grant What I Wish

Grant What I Wish - Chapter 2. Rank and File

The pieces of poetry are from The Essential Rumi, translated by Coleman Barks.

Chapter 2. Rank and File

Nottingham

1194

Why do you stay in prison

when the door is so wide open?

—Rumi

He lay upon his bed in a drunken stupor, trying in vain to chase sleep. It was mid-afternoon on a fine spring day; he should be out hunting, hawking, ranting, and roaring, yet he found he could not move himself to participate in his usual activities.

He was drunk most days now. Drinking ale, mead, or wine seemed the only manner in which he could slip from consciousness and find release from the crushing grind of life. His days were a never-ending nightmare, a continuous parade of torturous moments. Since he had returned to England, he had spent countless hours listening to Vasey's bitter laments on their failed mission to the Holy Land, the perfidy of the Black Knights, and the greed of Prince John. The Sheriff had become more suspicious and mercurial since the failed assassination attempt. His sole focus centered on protecting his position and power. It appeared to Gisbourne that he suspected plots and treachery around every corner of the castle.

Unlike the sheriff, Guy no longer cared for position or power-these had lost their allure when he lost the one object of value in his life. His sole focus now was on surviving each day as it came. He no longer cared about demonstrating loyalty to the Sheriff; he enacted every cruel or unusual order without question or complaint. What did it matter, given that he was beyond redemption? He longed for someone, anyone, to put a period to his miserable life. He gave no thought to his immortal soul. When he had killed Marian, he had murdered his soul. What did it matter how many other inhumane deeds he performed, when that act alone placed him in his own eternal purgatory.

And so, each afternoon, he sought oblivion in drink. Downing cup after cup of spirits, he sought unconsciousness, deep and dreamless. All too often, however, dreams would intrude. All were centered on the woman he still loved beyond thought or reason.

Some nights, he dreamed that Nottingham was once again under siege by Prince John's minions. He rode his horse into the castle keep, intent on finding her, protecting her, or perishing by her side in the attempt. As he rushed into the Great Hall, crying her name, she gazed up at him with eyes alight with love and admiration. As he turned and stood his ground against the advancing troops, she moved to stand next to him and laid her soft hand upon his arm. Feeling the warmth of her touch, he turned his head and looked into her eyes. Whatever he saw in her glance impelled him to ask her to marry him. Her unblinking gaze was soft and luminous, and he watched with thundering pulse as she parted her soft lips to reply. Time and again, he awoke before she gave him her answer, and the dream slipped from him like a wraith of smoke.

Other nights, he dreamed he caught her once more in the guise of the Night Watchman. His fury knew no bounds, and he was determined that she face punishment. However, she brought him up short with her challenge to accept her for who she was. In spite of the rage and hurt he felt at her betrayal, he decided to save her life with a ruse, asking Alan to disguise himself as the notorious criminal and enact an escape. In his severe disappointment, the Sheriff had struck him across the face and threatened his life, believing that the Night Watchman had escaped. When Guy met Marian later in her room, she moved willingly into his arms and held him tightly. He felt her quiver in his embrace as she had not done before, but when he turned his head to find her lips, she changed to grains of sand and slid to the floor in a glittering heap, scattering to the winds as he awoke.