Chapter 2 - "It's a long tale."
He was there the next night, rattling the grill in the window hole insistently. Overcoming her fear, Gwen stormed out of the door, throwing her worn shawl around her and hissing angrily "if it is true that you wish to see me more often then I suggest you learn patience and discretion!"
"Is it so shameful for you to be out with me?" he asked.
Gwen did not reply. It was her wish not to be seen because she knew the endless jibes and torments she would suffer at the tongues of her colleagues. Instead she stood awkwardly a meter or so from him, studying tracks in the dirt at her feet.
He made no move towards her the way he had done the night before and she began to have doubts. Did he all of a sudden want to meet with her to talk? She hadn't enjoyed the state of their previous relationship, but it had been easier to cope with than starting a new one would be. "Let's get out of the town for a bit?" he suggested. He started to walk, dragging his feet a little as he waited for her to follow.
"The gate's closed" she protested, standing still.
"There are other ways out," he shrugged.
He was very careful that night. They hardly spoke when inside the Nottingham walls and the only time he touched her was to help her over the battlements at a point of particular disrepair. They wandered slowly down to the riverbank and sat together awkwardly, each trying to get to know the person they had been liasing with for so many months now.
"How did you end up in Nottingham's castle?" was his opening shot.
"I was taken from my family forcibly. I was just sixteen when the Sheriff and his men came..." she stopped before adding more, but he noticed her swallow those next words.
"Go on."
"The troubles of my family that night were used as bait to lure out Lord Locksley, who was killed not two hours after my brother."
"What connection have you to Locksley?" there was a certain sharpness in his voice now.
"He was my family's landlord," Gwen answered truthfully. "Why do you react so strongly to the mention of his name?"
He said nothing for a few moments, obviously perturbed at being the recipient of the questions. "It's a long tale."
"I'm not going anywhere." Her curiosity had been piqued now.
He sighed and gave a nervous laugh. "I don't know where to start!"
Patiently, gently, she suggested, "what connection have you to Locksley?"
"He was my father. When Lady Locksley died he took solace with my mother, a penniless peasant woman who provided sympathy and cups of warm milk. When I was born, his son..." for a moment Will's voice cracked, and to Gwen's eyes the moonlight shone too brightly on his cheeks. "His son made him abandon mother and I when he found out. He left me fatherless and he—" Will stopped abruptly, glancing at her with wild eyes. "But you asked me about Locksley. I've told you what relation he is to me."
Gwen nodded, not dreaming of pressing that point until he was ready. "How old are you?" she suddenly wondered, laughing a little at such a ridiculous question and hoping that it would divert his mood.
"Ah...nineteen? Thereabouts. I'm not so sure anymore..." he said a little woefully. "You must be seventeen?"
"Yes." Questions were coming easier now. "How did you come to be in the dungeons?"
"I was captured when the Celts attacked Sherwood Forest," he said with a good measure of disgust.
"Then you were a member of Robin of the Hood's band of outlaws?"
He snorted. "Yeah. And what were you doing in the dungeons?"
Gwen flushed red. "I was accompanying the Sheriff. Did they hurt you badly there?"
"That's what the scars you've seen many a time are from." She blushed again at this. "Were you hurt badly by the Sheriff?"
Gwen drew a breath. This was something never mentioned between her and the other women. Those others who had served the Sheriff shared her reluctance to talk about it, and those who hadn't did not like to talk about it. "No worse than can be expected," she said shortly.
They both sat in silence for a few minutes, each thinking about the things the other might be hiding, each longing to ask more, each wishing to be asked more and to release all the things they had bottled up.
"What's all this about?" Gwen suddenly asked.
"What?"
"Wanting to see me more? Wanting to talk?"
Knowing she wouldn't be fooled with a simple 'just because I wanted to talk to you,' Will took his time formulating an answer. "I'm not entirely sure. Yesterday I reached a point where I couldn't take the feeling of separation I had everywhere I went. Usually when...when I visited you that feeling was temporarily gone, but last night I couldn't shake the uh...desire for more than empty deeds and words that side step the point. You surely understand the way that enclosed feelings and untold secrets will start to hammer their way out of a person?"
"Yes."
They were both silent, her sharp answer seeming to ring through the brittle night air.
Eventually Will sighed. "Let's go back home."
"Yes, I'll never be able to get up in the morning as it is," Gwen agreed readily, getting to her feet and following him back along the bank of the river to the gap in the wall. Once outside the castle she found herself standing in the same awkward position as earlier that night – head bowed, eyes studying the ground. "Well...goodnight."
Will watched her cringing form, seeing for the first time her discomfort in his presence, and wondering just what he had been putting this girl through. "Goodnight, Gwen. Thank you."
Unspoken as he walked away was his fervent prayer, 'please find it in your heart to forgive my selfishness.'
He was there the next night, rattling the grill in the window hole insistently. Overcoming her fear, Gwen stormed out of the door, throwing her worn shawl around her and hissing angrily "if it is true that you wish to see me more often then I suggest you learn patience and discretion!"
"Is it so shameful for you to be out with me?" he asked.
Gwen did not reply. It was her wish not to be seen because she knew the endless jibes and torments she would suffer at the tongues of her colleagues. Instead she stood awkwardly a meter or so from him, studying tracks in the dirt at her feet.
He made no move towards her the way he had done the night before and she began to have doubts. Did he all of a sudden want to meet with her to talk? She hadn't enjoyed the state of their previous relationship, but it had been easier to cope with than starting a new one would be. "Let's get out of the town for a bit?" he suggested. He started to walk, dragging his feet a little as he waited for her to follow.
"The gate's closed" she protested, standing still.
"There are other ways out," he shrugged.
He was very careful that night. They hardly spoke when inside the Nottingham walls and the only time he touched her was to help her over the battlements at a point of particular disrepair. They wandered slowly down to the riverbank and sat together awkwardly, each trying to get to know the person they had been liasing with for so many months now.
"How did you end up in Nottingham's castle?" was his opening shot.
"I was taken from my family forcibly. I was just sixteen when the Sheriff and his men came..." she stopped before adding more, but he noticed her swallow those next words.
"Go on."
"The troubles of my family that night were used as bait to lure out Lord Locksley, who was killed not two hours after my brother."
"What connection have you to Locksley?" there was a certain sharpness in his voice now.
"He was my family's landlord," Gwen answered truthfully. "Why do you react so strongly to the mention of his name?"
He said nothing for a few moments, obviously perturbed at being the recipient of the questions. "It's a long tale."
"I'm not going anywhere." Her curiosity had been piqued now.
He sighed and gave a nervous laugh. "I don't know where to start!"
Patiently, gently, she suggested, "what connection have you to Locksley?"
"He was my father. When Lady Locksley died he took solace with my mother, a penniless peasant woman who provided sympathy and cups of warm milk. When I was born, his son..." for a moment Will's voice cracked, and to Gwen's eyes the moonlight shone too brightly on his cheeks. "His son made him abandon mother and I when he found out. He left me fatherless and he—" Will stopped abruptly, glancing at her with wild eyes. "But you asked me about Locksley. I've told you what relation he is to me."
Gwen nodded, not dreaming of pressing that point until he was ready. "How old are you?" she suddenly wondered, laughing a little at such a ridiculous question and hoping that it would divert his mood.
"Ah...nineteen? Thereabouts. I'm not so sure anymore..." he said a little woefully. "You must be seventeen?"
"Yes." Questions were coming easier now. "How did you come to be in the dungeons?"
"I was captured when the Celts attacked Sherwood Forest," he said with a good measure of disgust.
"Then you were a member of Robin of the Hood's band of outlaws?"
He snorted. "Yeah. And what were you doing in the dungeons?"
Gwen flushed red. "I was accompanying the Sheriff. Did they hurt you badly there?"
"That's what the scars you've seen many a time are from." She blushed again at this. "Were you hurt badly by the Sheriff?"
Gwen drew a breath. This was something never mentioned between her and the other women. Those others who had served the Sheriff shared her reluctance to talk about it, and those who hadn't did not like to talk about it. "No worse than can be expected," she said shortly.
They both sat in silence for a few minutes, each thinking about the things the other might be hiding, each longing to ask more, each wishing to be asked more and to release all the things they had bottled up.
"What's all this about?" Gwen suddenly asked.
"What?"
"Wanting to see me more? Wanting to talk?"
Knowing she wouldn't be fooled with a simple 'just because I wanted to talk to you,' Will took his time formulating an answer. "I'm not entirely sure. Yesterday I reached a point where I couldn't take the feeling of separation I had everywhere I went. Usually when...when I visited you that feeling was temporarily gone, but last night I couldn't shake the uh...desire for more than empty deeds and words that side step the point. You surely understand the way that enclosed feelings and untold secrets will start to hammer their way out of a person?"
"Yes."
They were both silent, her sharp answer seeming to ring through the brittle night air.
Eventually Will sighed. "Let's go back home."
"Yes, I'll never be able to get up in the morning as it is," Gwen agreed readily, getting to her feet and following him back along the bank of the river to the gap in the wall. Once outside the castle she found herself standing in the same awkward position as earlier that night – head bowed, eyes studying the ground. "Well...goodnight."
Will watched her cringing form, seeing for the first time her discomfort in his presence, and wondering just what he had been putting this girl through. "Goodnight, Gwen. Thank you."
Unspoken as he walked away was his fervent prayer, 'please find it in your heart to forgive my selfishness.'