VII

Travel Interrupted

Warren turned one of the dead soldiers over with his boot. He grimaced at the sight of the blood and mud stained corpse. He kicked the body away and it rolled over again; limbs splaying out in a most undignified manner. Warren gave a sniff and looked back up at the rest of the dead surrounding him. Based upon the wounds, Warren guess most men had met their end by sword or dagger. Judging from the position of the bodies whatever had killed them had taken them by surprise, as there was no organization. A few of the wounds; however, intrigued the knight. He knelt down beside one of the bodies. This one had no wounds upon him to speak of, yet he was most assuredly dead. He began to fumble with the chainmail about the soldier's neck. There was only one way to kill a man without leaving any blood behind.

Strangulation. Warren held down the chainmail to glance at the soldier's neck. There were punctures into the skin, but the man's armor had prevented whatever had gotten a hold of him to draw blood. Warren examined the unique wounds. What manner of weapon could make such a marking? It wasn't a weapon at all. More like fangs. A wolf? Why would a wolf or any creature attack a man? Curious circumstance to be sure.

His horse whinnied nervously. The smell of the dead beginning to aggravate the animal's senses, but Warren was not interested in leaving this scene just yet. In the center of all the bloodshed there was a mound of dirt. A grave, and a hastily constructed one at that. This was most unusual. He squinted hard at the ground, blood splatters were everywhere. A satisfied grin spread across his face. The blood seemed to lead off and away from the carnage and into the forest; providing a perfect trail in which to follow the possible culprits. How fortuitous. Perhaps if he caught up with the outlaws he could ask of the whereabouts of his missing betrothed. Better still perhaps this trail would lead him right to her. Of course if the murderer or murderers were unwilling to help him he could always provide his own justice. The day was shaping into a most productive one indeed.

He mounted his horse and turned it away from the scene and rode off at a moderate trot down the path. Keeping a keen eye on the blood trail before him.

***

It was at least another hour before nightfall when Meg collapsed. The rag-tag trio had been walking at a decently swift pace for the better half of the day. Meg had been tired long before she had fallen, but she hadn't dared said a word. The wound in her side felt as if it had been lit on fire. The pain seemed to spread into her legs and try as she might to ignore it, eventually her exhaustion won out.

"Meg!" Even given the pain she was in she could not help but take comfort in the amount of concern in Guy's shout.

"I'm fine." She said as she tried to rise to her feet. Pain shot from her wound, the suddenness of it caused a cry to be wrung from her lips. She sunk back down, holding her side. The next instant she was lifted into Guy's arms.

She couldn't hide the laughter in her voice, "Aren't you getting tired of carrying me?"

"Would you rather I leave you behind?"

She laughed and contented herself with resting against him as he walked on. "How much further to the Abby?" She asked him.

"I don't know." He said honestly, "I've never been this deep in the forest before."

"Don't tell me we're lost." Meg groaned.

"I never said that." Guy said reassuringly, "We'll have to rest nearby for the night. We should find the Abby tomorrow."

"Why couldn't I have escaped with a man with a sense of direction?" Meg sighed.

"You should learn to lower your expectations of people." Sarcasm laced Guy's words.

"Or you should learn to raise people's expectations." That silenced him. She seemed to have a talent for this. They had only been in one another's company for a few weeks and already she knew exactly what to say to give him cause to think, even in the most unthoughtful of conversations.

Carwyn gave a pathetic whine and crouched down to the ground, slowly easing himself to the floor. "I think he's tired." Meg said, "He's not the only one." She yawned.

"Fine, we can stop here for the night." Guy was far from happy to end their travels earlier than he wanted, but there was nothing he could do about it. Meg may be making light of the situation, but she could not mask the very real and very sharp pain she was so obviously feeling. He set her down against a sturdy trunk of a gnarled ash tree. Close to the trunk, a large root lay slightly above the surface, curving back down in a hump into the ground. It served as the perfect nook for Meg to nestle herself against.

Guy sat down beside her. He peeled apart the torn folds of her dress to where the bandage wrapped about her stomach. Meg tried to swat him away. "What do you think you're doing?"

"You could have torn a stitch." He explained, "I just want to make sure you don't start to bleed again."

At that she let him go back to examining her. She tried not to blush as she felt his hands upon her. Even through the bandages she could feel the warmth of his touch. She cleared her throat, "Well?"

"You're fine." Guy announced, moving away from her. Meg wished he would remain close to her.

Carwyn padded his way over to his new owners, lying down before them. He curled himself into a ball as he began to lap at the gash on his flank. The blood from his wound had since dried, but that did not stop the wolf from attempting to tend to his injury. Guy frowned as he watched Carwyn. "How long has he been bleeding?" He asked Meg.

She merely shrugged, "I don't know. Probably since we left the cave."

Guy stood up and walked over towards Carwyn. His eyes followed the way they had come from. Squinting, he could see small flecks of blood leading down and away into the forest. Guy cursed under his breath.

"What is it?" Meg asked.

"Your wolf has left a blood trail."

"What?"

"Carwyn's blood!" Guy accused, "It leads back to the cave all the way here." He gestured wildly. "Which means--"

"Someone could follow it!" Meg gasped, catching on. "Oh God, what are we going to do?!"

"We are not going to do anything. You are going to stay here and rest. I will take care of this."

"But--"

"For once, Meg, don't argue with me." Guy sighed. He unrolled the blanket they had carried from the cave and draped it over her. He tucked Meg against the trunk and the root of the tree as if he was putting her to bed. He then grabbed the bow and took one of the three arrows, just in case. Meg eyed him worriedly.

"I shouldn't be long, but if I am, stay here for the night. If I don't come back by morning continue on to the Abby. I'll find you there."

"But I can't make it there by myself." Meg protested.

"Yes you can." Guy insisted with a smirk. "And you will if you have to." He knelt down beside her, "Don't worry. I only need to throw off the trail slightly. I'll be back before you can think of new insults for me." That drew a small smile from her.

Meg grabbed Guy's arm before he could turn to leave her. "Guy!" As he turned back to face her Meg raised herself up to give him a quick kiss on the cheek, "Be safe." She whispered.

His eyes widened at the feel of her lips upon his face. He had not been expecting that. "I will be." He found himself whispering to her. He brushed a few strands of hair from her face reveling in the hidden look of affection in Meg's eyes. There was a wealth of unspoken words in that look. He would have no choice now, but to make sure he stayed safe so that he could return to hear what she had to say to him.

He left her with reluctance. Shouldering the bow and checking to make sure the sword he had stolen from the scabbard of one of the dead soldiers was still at his side; he set out, nervous energy rattling through him, causing his hands to shake. He hated leaving Meg alone in the woods by herself. A long howl echoed about the darkening forest. At least Meg still had Carwyn. He would keep her safe, and that was all that mattered.

***

There was a small group of soldiers riding along beneath a hillside. Warren dismounted and led his horse quietly along the ridge of the hill, keeping watch. There were only four of them, three soldiers and a lady. Looping the reigns of his horse about a tree, Warren slid down the hillside, dodging and weaving his way behind tree to tree in his attempt to get closer to the group.

"What do you mean there's no sign of them!" The woman was berating the three men, "I've sent three patrols of men to scout this forest and you're saying that there is no sign of them?!"

This was a most interesting development. Who was this woman searching for? Could it be they were looking for the same person? In a moment of excitement, Warren leaned forward, peering around the trunk of a tree. A few twigs and leaves crunched underfoot alerting the soldiers and the woman of his presence.

The woman looked up at him startled, her harsh and jaded eyes wide with momentary fright. Upon seeing that her intruder was only one man her expression shifted to lazy disturbance. "Seize him." She ordered quiet calmly.

The three soldiers advanced. Warren cursed his stupidity and drew his sword. It mattered not, he was outnumbered and he was not the most skilled with a blade. Figuring it would be better to live and explain oneself than die like a fool he flung his sword to the ground and raised his arms up behind his head as he stepped out. His arms were grabbed by one of the soldiers and he was led over to the stern eyed woman.

"You are not one of Hood's men." She sniffed, "I don't recognize you."

Warren could only suppose that she was referring to Robin Hood. He gave a small chuckle at that, "I am not, my lady." He said, wisely addressing her respectfully. She had shown command over these three soldiers, she was surely a woman of some means and power.

"Then who are you?"

"My name is Sir Warren Garrett, my lady. I am a knight in the service of Prince John." The name gave him protection wherever he went. He could not mask the glimmer in his eyes at the shock this gave to the lady. She dismounted from her black steed almost immediately. He was expecting a forthcoming apology for his treatment when he found a dagger pressed to the side of his neck.

"Prove it." She hissed.

"If my lady will permit me..." He wriggled his arms a bit to show that he could prove nothing while he was being held.

"Release him." The lady ordered and at once Warren found his arms under his own control once more.

Very slowly to show that he meant no harm, and so as not to jar the blade digging into the sensitive skin of his neck, be brought his hands down to his sword belt. A small leather purse, almost the size of a pocket was attached to the side of the belt. He opened it and pulled out a simple ring bearing the Prince's insignia. The lady snatched it from his hands at once. She examined carefully as if expecting it to be a trick of some kind. She lowered the blade from his throat and handed him back the ring which Warren once again pocketed securely.

"Forgive me, Sir Warren, but I had to be sure. One can never be too careful these days." She smiled and Warren was reminded of a wolf.

"It is understandable and it is to your credit that you are so cautious." Warren said honestly.

"This still does not solve the matter of what you were doing spying on me and my men." She remarked, still toying with her dagger.

"I can say honestly that it was by circumstance alone that I found you. It was not my intention to pry into your business, my lady, but I thought you might have found something I was looking for." Warren said, crossing his arms. "You see I am searching for a woman who was said to have escaped from Nottingham not but a few weeks ago."

The woman raised an eyebrow, "How intriguing. What would such a woman be to you?"

"My betrothed. Her name is Meg Bennett."

Warren was shocked to find that this caused laughter in the woman. "Meg Bennett? How fortuitous indeed."

"You know the girl?" Now it was Warren's turn to be surprised.

"Yes, she escaped along with my brother."

"So I see we were both heading towards the same general goal." Warren said.

"If I had men capable of discovering a trail." She rolled her eyes.

"Then it is lucky we found one another, my lady--"

"You found a trail?!"

"Yes; whether or not it leads me to the girl or to your brother or to anyone I do not yet know. I find it worth exploring."

"And what if you do not find the girl?" She was seeking his motives.

"If it leads me to another I will find if such a person could give me information on where to go next." He shrugged.

"And if such a person is less than cooperative?"

"No one is uncooperative with me, my lady." Warren said and he realized that this was exactly what the lady wanted to hear.

"I think you could be useful to me, Sir Warren." She announced with a sly tone hiding in her voice. As if she was already calculating how she could use him to any advantage of hers.

"Could I?" He said warily. "And who exactly would I be useful for?"

She smiled, "Lady Isabella, Sheriff of Nottingham." Her grin intensified as she saw Warren's eyes widen at that. "And I'll make you a deal, Sir Warren."

"What would that be?" A deal meant a reward, and he was always eager for that.

"Meg Bennet and my brother, Guy of Gisborne escaped together. Chances are if you find one you'll find the other. If you work with me I'll give you the proper means to hunt them down." Isabella said silkily.

"What's the price?" Warren grunted.

"Oh no price, Sir, I could use smart and able bodied men like you. If you help me I guarantee your rewards will be plentiful."

Warren let out a short laugh. Did this woman think he would give her his aid under such vague circumstances? He made deals with devils daily. A feat he would not be able to accomplish if he let the first greedy and short-sighted lord or lady trap him with promises unknown. "Define how plentiful such rewards would be, my lady."

"Lands, perhaps."

He shook his head, "I don't care for lands."

"Two-hundred gold crowns." Isabella said immediately.

"Hefty price." Warren nodded.

"I reward good service and loyalty as you will soon find if you decide to join with me."

He eyed her critically as he weighed his options. He could refuse, he did better alone than commanding a troop of bumbling soldiers. Then again, did he have a choice or was this an ultimatum? He tried to read the hidden expressions in the cunning woman's eyes. He nodded slowly as he understood. Her soldiers were still standing behind him, they hadn't moved since this conversation started. Without even turning around he wagered they had their hands upon the hilts of their sword blades, just waiting for a nod from their lady. He smiled with false good humor. "We have a deal, my lady."

She smiled as well, it was a devilish grin and Warren found that he could come to admire such a cunning woman. She had successfully outsmarted him and he was not so above giving praise where it was due. She held out her hand and he clasped it in his. She had a firm grip. Warren could almost feel deception leaking from it. "Welcome to Nottingham, Sir Warren."

A/N: Right, so we've run into events leading up to the start of ep10. I'm not sure if it's obvious so I'm just mentioning it. I never really did figure out how Guy had a bow and a sword at the start of that episode. So...now we know, eh? XD

Anyway, Isabella is actually quite fun to write as she's by far different from the average baddie on RH. The writers were out of their minds reducing her to a Disney villain. I half expected her to start spouting, "Mirror mirror on the wall who's the fairest of them all?" I don't like one dimensional characters so I plan on fleshing out Isabella more, as I thought the writers were going to do...but...alas.

Hope you are still enjoying this story! Much more to come soon! :)