The heavy oaken door opened with a loud squeak, but Guy did not look up. It would be the warden bringing the usual hard bread, water and rancid cheese. Sometimes there was a little oatmeal and, if he was in a good mood, an apple as well. Opening the door half way, three steps into the room, putting down the tray, wheezing, grunting, three steps out of the room, closing the door.

This time, however, the door was opened all the way, and then – silence. As Guy looked up slowly, his eyes fell upon a knight unknown to him. Had they finally decided to hang him, after 4 years?

"You are free, Sir Guy. "

Guy blinked. Free?

The strange night stepped aside and waved in a servant. "I am Robert of Sangdon and I am here by the order of the King. Walter will provide you with everything you need. A bath will be prepared for you, and fresh clothing as well. As soon as you have recovered enough to travel, you will accompany me to Court; King John is expecting you."

Without any further explanations, the knight nodded his farewell and left.

Free… Kind John….King Richard was dead then. Guy got up awkwardly and followed the servant. On the threshold he blinked, being unaccustomed to the light, and took a look back into the dungeon in which he had been kept prisoner. His legs were stiff, far too long he had not used them. Being supported by the servant, he walked over to the bath house. Guy noticed the servant's shock when he took off the rags that were left of his clothes. This man, once muscular, was starved, his skin sallow and split, his hair, hanging down his back, dirty, filthy, and full of lice.

Slowly, Guy lowered himself into the tub and closed his eyes, and let his thoughts wander back.

So, King Richard had finally had the thought of returning home. Not everything had gone the way he had imagined. On the way back from the Holy Land he had been arrested and tons of silver had to be paid as ransom. All that for a King who did not like England and preferred to travel somewhere else. Still the simple people loved King Richard and had welcomed him in triumph.

He had gathered his loyal supporters and hunted down the traitors. Guy had been among them. Robin of Locksley had reported to the King who was really responsible for the assassination in Akra and Guy had been on the run since then. He did not regret anything and would do it again.

This allegedly so humane King did not mind slaughtering women and children if it served his military purposes or when he sought revenge. He had left his country to itself and hunted for glory while his country was in need.

It was Locksley himself who had caught Guy; a stupid coincidence had taken him into the area where Guy was hiding. Locksley had come upon him in surprise and struck him down before Guy even had the chance to reach for his sword.

Heavily wounded he was led away and had soon lost conscience; when he woke up, he was in a dungeon of an unknown castle. It had not concerned him any further for he knew that it was only a matter of days until he would be hung. But time had passed and nothing had happened and finally Guy had realized what Locksley had meant when he screamed "This bastard does not deserve to die a quick death!" He would die in this dungeon he had been thrown in. It had been a miracle that he had survived the traumatic fever. There was a big scar now on his leg, but the worst thing was the long scar that was left of a wound caused by Locksley and that ran across his entire cheek. Maybe, if someone had cared to sew the wound, but why make this effort of a traitor who would rot in prison anyway? Guy had been fed; just enough to keep him alive. How many times had he been tempted to leave it on the floor, to fade into nothing, simply becoming weaker and weaker, but something had held him back, even if he didn't know what. And now he was free.

A barber cut off Guy's long hair and washed it thoroughly. The servant had prepared new garments and let Guy into a comfortable room. For the first time in years he stretched out on a soft bed instead of straw and closed his eyes. A young maidservant brought fresh bread, ham, sweet oatmeal, cheese and wine and could not suppress a sound of horror when she saw the knight on the bed, apparently asleep. When Guy opened his eyes slowly and looked at her, the maidservant fled in panic. Guy knew how he looked, like a hollow-cheeked specter. He had once been called handsome and he had never experienced a lack of willing women, but now? Even if he regained his strength, the scar would disfigure him forever.

Cautiously Guy tried the food; his stomach was unaccustomed to these amounts of food. Then he stretched out on the bed again and went to sleep immediately. In the following days he wandered the halls of the castle in order to regain his strength. It would be a long time until he could fight again, if it ever came to that. Guy didn't even know what King John had in store for him. Guy had never told anyone that it was in fact the former Prince John who was responsible for the assassination in Akra. It would not have changed anything and probably King Richard would not have believed him anyway. King John must think it was loyalty that was behind Sir Guy's silence, and instead of getting rid of this bothersome witness, he had freed him now.

Guy saw the servants' looks and aroused his old irascibility. After he had broken a servant's nose with a strike of his fist, they only approached him with their eyes downcast and were relieved when this terrible man left for the journey to court with Robert of Sangdon.

The hearing before the King had been brief. The Sheriff of Nottingham had drowned in a river, running away from King Richard's myrmidons and the current King was visibly uncomfortable with this living memory of his assassination back then. He thanked him fort he services to the Crown – Guy had almost burst out laughing –, had given him a bag of silver and awarded him the title of Earl of Bamburgh. Bamburgh Castle was located in Northumberland; formerly an important castle and the domicile of the Kings of Northumbria; it was now a lonely building up north, in a godforsaken area. However, its proximity to Scotland caused trouble; there were always incidents. King John made it clear that he expected Guy to quell the troubles and also emphasized that he did not care to see Guy in the near future. Guy realized that he had traded his little sinking dungeon for a big, more comfortable prison. On the next day, the new Earl of Bamburgh set off for the long journey to his new land.

Guy inhaled deeply. Within just a couple of months he had regained his old strength. He had come to love this country, where he could ride for hours without coming upon a living soul. The horses down at the stables were the only creatures he liked to be close to; they did not care what his face looked like, they sensed the love he had for them. Guy's servants, on the other hand, had learned to withdraw fast and without drawing attention to them, if they wanted to escape his easily aroused rage.

The lands were fertile but parts of them poorly cultivated. The manager was scared when his Lord had him show him the books. Knights who could read were rare; the previous Earl had always nodded his agreement and pretended to be capable of checking the entries. Guy had been quick to detect that a part of the earnings had found its way into the manager's pocket and had thrown him off his property after a public whipping on the town square of Bamburgh. The books he had taken over himself.

Guy's father had, as a pact with God, so to speak, turned over his son to the monastery, where Guy learned how to read and write. He had seen very soon, however, that life at the monastery was not for him; especially the obedience part. Jean of Gisborne had accepted it and Guy had left after his father had paid off the abbot with a donation to the monastery.

Shortly after, Jean of Gisborne had been convicted for treason against the French King. Guy and his mother had been able to flee; Guy's father and the three brothers had been executed. Guy had grown up with his mother's relatives. He had always felt, though, that he was the „poor relative" and had grown up with his mother's words to give glory again to the name of Gisborne. On her deathbed he had promised her to fulfill his parents' wish.

What would Anne of Gisborne have said if she had seen this castle? But Guy knew it would remain empty and the Gisbornes would die with him. He had loved once, but not been loved back. Like a fool he had worn his heart on his sleeves and given Lady Marian his love, but she had only used him to spy against Vasey. All feelings for him had been faked. The humiliation when she had hit him in his face at the wedding ceremony, he would never forget that. Guy's hands balled into fists in blind rage when he recalled that moment. He had learned very early in life that there were no second chances and he would not make that same mistake twice, trusting a woman. The whores he called up to the castle remained faceless. In the surrounding villages they told among themselves that the new Lord had a pact with the devil; he had this horrible scar in his face and nobody had ever seen him laugh.

The money that Guy made he spent for horses and a few valuable manuscripts. The old stable manager was fast to realize that his Lord know more about horses than anyone else did in the whole area, and that he could deal with horses far better than with people. While the other servants avoided the Earl von Bamburgh as far as possible, the stable manager observed Guy very closely. The gruff and irascible man treated his horses gently and spent the whole night at the stables when his favorite mare foaled. Nobody had ever seen him use a whip, and more than once he had heard him talk to a horse with a gentle voice. A truly peculiar man, the stable manager thought. He knew that he could not afford to get personal although Guy of Gisborne appreciated his knowledge as stable manager. He was friendly to horses only and only these knew that his overbearing voice could sound different.

After his daily ride Guy dismounted and led his new stallion into the stable where he handed him over to a servant who wiped the horse dry. Before he left, he rubbed the animal's coat and rewarded it with an apple. How often had he been thrown off and how much time and effort it had cost him to tame him, but he had been worth it. When Guy approached the gate with long strides, a servant came running up to him. "Milord, a messenger from the King is expecting you…"

A messenger from the King? What did King John want? This was probably about the muggings committed by the Scots within the past several weeks. Guy had succeeded in arresting some of the culprits and to convict them, but very often their families took bloody revenge.

The young knight was waiting in the great hall where a servant had served a meal and lit a fire; he had already eaten and was now waiting impatiently for Guy of Gisborne.

"My name is Henry of Statton. I have an important message from King John for you, Milord." He bowed and handed Guy a scroll; Guy broke the seal and started to read. With every word, Guy's mien grew darker and when he finally looked up, his eyes flashed with anger and his hands balled around the scroll, his knuckles turning white.