Maid of Sherwood

by Shanti Krishnamurty

  “Somehow I think Lady Nyneve will have a hand in those choices,” Father interjected. “She seems to be a force of nature.”

  “You know what she is better than anyone else,” Mother said. “How many songs have you written about The Lady of the Lake and Camelot?”

  “More than I can count,” Father said. “The real question, Bea, is what are we going to do about the sword?”

  Mother sighed. “It is Marian’s, just as it was mine and my mother’s before me.” She met Marian’s gaze. “So the question becomes, what are you going to do about the sword, Marian?”

  Marian gulped. “Me?”

  “You.” Mother said. “It is your responsibility now.”

  “Bea, that is hardly fair,” Father complained.

  “This is the life she chose, Alan. While I am proud of her choices, now she needs to learn what they are all about.”

  “Ummm…” Marian bit her bottom lip as she thought. “I think the sword should go back to Nyneve. It was hers originally, and she seemed very angry at you for bringing it here.”

  Mother nodded. “That is a very responsible decision, Marian. You can inform the Lady of your decision over dinner. Just ensure you are not overheard.”

  “No, I mean yes. I mean, I will make sure.”

  “Then that takes care of that,” Mother said. She rose. “Now we need to dress for dinner. It would not do to be late. We do not need the sheriff attempting to break down our suite door in his eagerness for your company.”

  Marian giggled at the idea, then calmed when she remembered the chapel. If a place of God was not safe from the sheriff, no-where would be. It was a sobering thought.

  “Anna has not returned from the kitchens, so I will help you dress,” Mother said. “Alan, if you will excuse us?”

  “Of course,” Father agreed.

  Marian and Mother walked into the other set of rooms. “We should not be too long,” Mother threw back over her shoulder.

  “I will wait out here.” Father said. He crossed his legs at the ankles and closed his eyes.

  “He is not…sleeping, is he?” Marian asked quietly.

  “No, he is probably just composing his next ballad. He says he can concentrate more in perfect quiet.”

  Marian nodded and closed the door behind them.

  Chapter Nineteen:

  “You look lovely.” The sheriff greeted Marian as she walked into the dining hall with Mother and Father.

  “Thank you, sheriff,” Marian returned smoothly. Mother had put Guinevere’s jeweled comb in her hair, and she truly did feel lovely.

  “Prince John has requested your presence at his table,” he continued, including Mother and Father in the thinly veiled order. “The Lady Nyneve is already seated there.”

  Marian threw a glance at her parents. Father nodded minutely at her in a silent reply.

  “Thank you, sheriff,” Mother said. “We would be honored.”

  “Lady Marian, can I hope you might be seated next to me?” The sheriff asked.

  “I did not realize you’d be joining us, sheriff.” Marian said.

  “I always take my meals with His Highness,” the sheriff replied. “My place is at his side.”

  “So I see,” Marian murmured, but quietly enough that he did not hear her.

  With the sheriff leading the way, they wound their way to the prince’s table and took their seats next to Nyneve, who winked at Marian.

  “Lady Marian, Lady Beatrix, Alan, we are glad to see you are well.” The prince took a bite of cheese as he spoke. “The sheriff tells me you spent some time in the chapel today?”

  Mother nodded. “It is a quiet place to think.” She tittered. “I am afraid my time spent away from court dulled my senses to all the entertainments you have provided.”

  The prince narrowed his eyes. “If that was truly the case, why did you have a need to bar the doors, thus keeping everyone else in need of prayer outside?”

  “As I told the sheriff,” Nyneve interrupted, “that was entirely my doing. There was no reason to bring it to your attention.”

  “Any time a door is barred in my castle, it is deserving of my attention. I am regent during my brother’s absence, Lady Nyneve. It would not service you well to misremember that.”

  “You forget yourself, Your Highness,” the old woman replied calmly. “My loyalty is to the throne, not the one who sits in it. I have been Nottingham’s historian since before your father ruled, and my current duties allow me certain freedoms you, as regent, cannot take away.”

  Much to Marian’s shock, the prince bowed his head to the historian. “I know of your importance to my brother. But you still have not answered the question.”

  “If it is that important to you,” Nyenve said, “the answer is simple. I wished for a certain amount of privacy and I closed the doors to ensure it.”

  “Very well.” Prince John turned to his right. “Does that answer suffice, sheriff, or do you still believe Lady Nyneve is telling falsehoods?”

  “It is the same thing she told me,” the sheriff agreed. “So yes, my prince, the answer is sufficient.” He snapped his fingers and a servant standing behind him poured what Marian assumed was wine into his goblet. Taking a long swig, he stared at Marian across the table.

  Marian shifted uncomfortably and sipped at her own goblet, trying unsuccessfully to avoid his eyes.

  “Did you notice he is here?”

  She was not sure if she was the only one who heard the sibilant whispering of multiple boyish voices. No-one else seemed to respond. Marian glanced at the prince. His face had bleached to a color resembling Mother’s wedding gown and his hand, as he reached for his goblet, shook slightly.

  “He is scared of us. See how he shakes?”

  “He should be,” the first voice said. “He killed us.”

  “Enough!” Prince John roared. The hall fell silent and all eyes turned toward him. The ghosts laughed and laughed.

  Prince John pushed away from the table. “I shall leave within the week,” he announced abruptly. “Sheriff, you will accompany me back to London.”

  “I—I cannot possibly, Your Highness,” the sheriff stuttered.

  A small breeze ruffled the collar on Marian’s gown. “He cannot leave,” a voice whispered in her ear. “If he does, she will die.”

  “Who?” Marian asked, looking around her. “Where is she?”

  “We cannot tell you,” the little boy’s voice said.

  “Who are you talking to?” Mother asked.

  “You cannot hear it?” Marian turned to face Mother.

  Mother shook her head. .”And neither can anyone else. You sound crazed.”

  “It is the ghosts, Mother.” Marian lowered her voice. “Or at least one of them. He told me if the sheriff leaves, someone will die.”

  “Did he tell you anything else?” Mother’s voice was serious. “Like who, or where?”

  “All he told me was that she will die.”

  “Then we have a week to figure out who and where ‘she’ is.” Mother said. She turned to Prince John, who had seated himself again. “Your Highness, does your announcement mean we are released from our duty and can return home?”

  A frown crossed the prince’s brow. “My request was that you attend me for the duration of my stay. Was that not made perfectly clear to you at the outset?”

  “Not exactly,” Mother said. “We were simply informed to attend upon your Highness.”

  “Sheriff, it seems you have been lax in administering our express desires,” the prince said. “Our instructions were to issue invitations, not orders.”

  “I apologize, Your Highness,” the sheriff said. Marian could hear the falseness in his words, but Prince John merely nodded.

  “Try some peacock, Lady Marian,” the prince said. “The eyeballs are particularly tasty.”

  Marian shuddered. “No, thank you, Your Highness. I am afraid I did not grow up with this type of food. It is taking some getting used to.”

&
nbsp; Prince John shrugged. “Have the servants bring you something more to your taste, then. We won’t have anyone go hungry at our table.”

  “I will have some vegetable soup and some bread, Highness. Thank you for your concern.”

  “Are you enjoying your visit here?” The prince asked Marian. “We have not seen very much of you during your stay.”

  “It has been enlightening,” Marian’s voice was carefully non-committal.

  Prince John laughed. “I do not think anyone has ever called their visit to Nottingham ‘enlightening’ before now.”

  “I do not mean to insult you, Your Highness,” Marian began, but the prince cut her off.

  “I have not been insulted by your words. No, Lady Marian, I find your words refreshing. You are like a freshly picked rose in a vase of dying blooms.”

  “I—thank you, Your Highness.”

  The prince nodded and at the sign, musicians Marian could not see began to play softly.

  “Lady Marian, would you give me the honor of this dance?” It was more an order than true request, and Marian immediately rose to her feet.

  “I would be honored, Your Highness.” She put her hand in his and let him lead her to the center of the room.

  Chapter Twenty:

  “Your mother was quite the figure at court when she lived here,” Prince John said, casually spinning her about the dance floor.

  “I do not know what you mean, Highness,” Marian said. “She never speaks to me of her time here.”

  “And you are quite sure she never once mentioned Excalibur to you?”

  “Yes. I do not even think Mother knows which end of a sword is which.”

  “Yet I heard a rumor that you are trained with one.” The prince observed.

  “Father thought it was a good idea,” Marian said carefully. “In these times of unrest, and the fact that we live so close to the forest, he believed I should be able to protect myself.”

  “Very wise of him,” the prince said. “And have you had occasion to do that?”

  “Do what, Highness?”

  “Protect yourself.” Prince John kissed the back of her hand before releasing her and Marian realized with a start that the music had ended.

  “No, I have only ever practiced with Father.”

  “Dare I hope you brought your sword with you?”

  It was not where Marian expected the conversation to go. “Ummm…I am sorry, Highness. I did not.”

  “Ah, that is a pity. I have never tried my hand against a female opponent.” He snapped his fingers. “But I can provide you with one. What type of blade are you familiar with?”

  “The only sword I’ve used was an old arming sword,” Marian admitted.

  “An ancient weapon, indeed. Tell me, it is a family blade?”

  Marian’s heart began to pound. The prince was a master, it seemed, of delving for information. “I do not know, Your Highness. You’d have to ask my parents. All I know is it is the sword I was given.”

  “Well, I have swords in the armory. My guards can find one for you.”

  “You want to duel with me, Highness?’ Marian asked.

  “I believe that is what I have been saying,” Prince John returned. “You need not worry. I will go easily on you.”

  There was no way for her to refuse. Instead, Marian smiled and nodded her agreement. “I look forward to it.”

  “I will send for you first thing in the morning. We shall duel after we break our fast.” His eyes raked over her once. “After I send you some more suitable clothing. I would not wish it said I won unfairly.”

  He had, Marian noticed, stopped using the royal ‘we’. She wondered if it meant something significant about the king’s absence. Or his possible return.

  “I hate to leave you,” Prince John said, “but I have much to do before I return to London. I do hope you enjoy the rest of your evening.”

  “I—thank you,” Marian stuttered.

  The prince strode away and the music started up in his absence. Marian glanced around her. Couples were moving onto the floor. She noticed the sheriff striding toward her.

  “Lady Marian, I hope you were not leaving,” he said as he reached her. “I was looking forward to dancing with you again.”

  “I was going to stroll through the gardens,” Marian said. “I have not had the opportunity to walk through them at my leisure yet.”

  “If you do not mind, I will join you,” the sheriff said. “The gardens are particularly lovely in the moonlight, especially the maze.”

  “Ummm…I have walked in the maze before. I am afraid it might prove too much of a challenge to get through at night.”

  The sheriff laughed. “Lady Marian, I was here when that maze was built. I can keep you safe.”

  “Allow me to be perfectly honest,” Marian said, lying through her teeth. “I would rather stay close to the castle until I am more comfortable here.”

  “Of course. There are perfectly lovely gardens just below the battlements. Would you care to see them?”

  “If you mean the vegetable gardens,” Marian said, “I have seen them already and while they are abundant, I do not know if I would use the word ‘lovely’ to describe them.”

  The sheriff raised one eyebrow. “I did not realize you were so familiar with the grounds.”

  “I am learning more each day,” Marian returned carefully. She scuffed one shoe lightly against the marble floor.

  “Well then, since you have already seen the gardens, would you like to join me for a cup of wine?”

  Marian shook her head. “I do not drink wine, but a cup of honey mead would be welcome.”

  The sheriff bowed. “Your wish is my command.” He strode across the floor and Marian walked to a nearby chair.

  “Are you having fun?” Father startled her and she squeaked.

  “I did not see you, Father. I—yes, I suppose I am.” She smiled up at him. “Why are not you dancing with Mother?”

  Father shrugged. “Your mother is busy holding a court of her own.”

  Marian looked where Father pointed and giggled. There was Mother, surrounded by courtiers. Interestingly enough, there were very few ladies in the group.

  “How does she do that so easily?” Marian asked.

  “Do what, exactly?”

  “Change personalities like that,” Marian said. As she watched, Mother flipped her hair over her shoulder and laughed. “She seems so—so at home.”

  “This was her home for many, many years,” Father pointed out. “She knows what’s expected at court; she knows how to play to an audience.”

  “I do not know who she really is,” Marian said. “What I saw in the chapel made me realize what I grew up with was false, but how do I know that was not a front, either?”

  “Remember what I told you back home? ‘Your mother is who your mother is. No more and no less’? That is the sum of it, Mari. Both personalities are true. Just at different times.”

  “That must get very confusing,” Marian stared at Mother.

  “Here is your mead,” the sheriff said. A tall goblet was thrust at Marian. “What do you find confusing, Lady Marian?”

  “Marian was just telling me that she is not used to castle life,” Father said. “She finds it overwhelming.”

  “Exactly,” Marian agreed a trifle too quickly.

  “Is there anything I can do to put your mind at ease?” The sheriff asked.

  “No, I think it will just take some time. But I appreciate your concern.” Marian said.

  Father smiled at both of them. “I think I will go join your mother. Sheriff, it is always good to see you. Marian, do not forget tomorrow is Sunday. We shall attend service first thing in the morning.”

  “I will be at the chapel early,” she promised.

  “You will enjoy the Sunday service,” the sheriff told her. “I never miss it. Shall I save you a seat?”

  “I would rather sit with my parents,” Marian said. The next words almost stuck in her throat, b
ut she forced them out. “But I am sure no-one would object if you joined us.”

  “Regretfully, I must decline. The prince demands my undivided attention during his visits here.”

  “Can I ask you something…personal, Sheriff?” Marian placed one hand on his arm and leaned toward him confidentially.

  “Of course,” he replied.

  “Why is Prince John so afraid of the ghosts?”

  The sheriff stiffened. “The prince is afraid of nothing,” he snapped.

  Marian softened her voice further. “He seemed distraught at the noise they were making during dinner.”

  “They are pests,” the sheriff said. “It was nothing more than that.”

  “But what happened to them? Why would they say he killed them?”

  “You seem to be very interested in the ghosts of dead children.”

  “There were dozens of them, Sheriff. How could you not be curious?”

  “He is not curious because he killed us, too.”

  The whisper against her ear startled her and she fought not to twitch in response.

  “I am not curious, Lady Marian, because they are dead.” The sheriff’s voice was flat, as though he was talking to her about the weather.

  It sent shivers up Marian’s spine.

  “The ghosts are not a subject I care to discuss,” the sheriff continued. “And I suggest you do not bring it up to the prince. He’ll view it with less…kindness…than I have.”

  “My apologies,” Marian murmured. “I certainly did not mean any offense.”

  The sheriff smiled. “None taken. I find you to be quite charming, if a bit unrefined. But I am sure a longer stay here will easily remedy that.”

  “I believe my parents plan on leaving when the prince does.”

  “I was not referring to your parents,” he said. “I was referring to you.”

  Marian shook her head. “Oh, but I cannot stay without them. It wouldn’t be proper.”

  “You would be my personal guest. I guarantee nothing would happen to you without my express permission.”

  She caught the glimmer of madness in his eyes and swallowed. “It is inappropriate for you to even suggest such a thing, Sheriff, and I am not particularly comfortable with where this conversation is going.”