Maid of Sherwood

Chapter Twenty-One

"Where is she going?"

"She does not know."

Marian strode past the stairs leading to her suite. The ghosts were right. She had no idea where she was headed.

"If she does not know, then how is she supposed to get there?"

"If you are not going to speak to me, then would you kindly not speak at all?!" Marian snapped aloud.

The ghosts laughed.

"She is feisty; no wonder the sheriff likes her."

"The sheriff is not the only one..."

"Stop it!" Marian commanded them. They did not listen, just giggled harder.

"Do you think she needs a hint?"

"We could give her one," a single, very young, voice replied.

"What are you talking about?" Marian gasped when the shadows which had been clinging to the walls she walked past began shifting and sliding toward her.

"I like her. Let us help." The young ghost announced.

The laughter tapered off and the shadows crowded closer around Marian's skirts.

"Follow us," they whispered. "It is not too much further."

Marian shook her head. "This is mad."

The shadows tugged at her skirts, gathering in close, and then stretching farther down the hall. "You have to hurry," they demanded. "She needs you."

"She? Who is she?" Following shadows was mad, but the idea of not following them was even crazier.

The ghosts did not answer, just kept undulating back and forth, forcing her further and further down. And the direction she was walking was down. The air around her cooled, and the walls, bare now of the shadows which were clinging to the stone floor and her skirts, grew clammy and damp.

Guttering torches placed every few feet did little to relieve the dimness of the long corridor, producing a thick smoke that rose into the air and made her cough. She stepped deeper, taking shallow breaths to keep the smoke from filling her lungs. A skittering sound near her feet caught her attention and she glanced down, stifling a scream as a rat scurried into the flickering shadows the torchlight created against the stone walls.

"Where are you taking me?" She did not really expect an answer.

"The dungeons," was the reply she received. "That is where she is. That is where she has been."

The dust stirred at her feet as she walked and she sneezed. The dust tickled her nose again. She blinked suddenly in surprise. There were footprints on the floor before her and they continued down the corridor for as far as she could see.

"Why is she slowing down? She needs to walk faster, not slower."

"Leave her alone; she is following us."

That was true. She was following them. But where were they leading her? The question so preoccupied her that she barely noticed the wooden doors she walked past until the shadows collected at the last door on the left side of the corridor.

"There. She is in there."

Marian wiped suddenly damp palms against her gown, leaving faint sweaty stains on the light green cotton. She was not sure what was behind the door, but she was equally positive she really did not want to find out.

"Look at her, she is scared." The shadows giggled.

"I am not scared!" Marian said. "I came down here, did not I?"

"Bet you will not walk through the door," the voices taunted.

Marian's spine stiffened and, without hesitation, she twisted the wrought iron handle on the shadow darkened door and stepped inside.

At first glance the room was empty. Torches placed every two feet on the far walls met her gaze. Only two of the torches were lit, throwing flickering shadows on the floor and walls. As Marian watched, the shadow ghosts crawled into the dungeon, coating the floor and the walls with their presence.

"What is this place?" Marian's voice was hushed.

"Are you sure she is not dense? Did not we already tell her?"

"You know, considering I followed you down here, I would think you would be nicer to me," Marian huffed.

"Look around," the shadows directed. "You will see."

"I am just a bit tired of being ordered around by shadows," Marian complained.

Laughter.

"H—hello? Is someone there?" The voice was hesitant, and broken, but it was a woman's voice.

Marian took a hesitant step forward. Darkness, a real blackness brought on by lack of torchlight, kept her from walking further.

"P—please, is someone there?"

"Who are you?" Marian peered into darkness, trying to pierce the faint light from the torches.

The woman coughed a dry rasping sound. "Do you have water?"

Marian shook her head before realizing the other woman could not see her. "No, I am sorry."

"It—it does not matter." Marian heard her swallow. "Come closer, so I can see you."

"It is dark," Marian felt stupid as soon as the words left her mouth.

"She is scared of the dark!" "I thought only babies were scared of the dark!"

"Hush," the other woman said softly and the ghosts' teasing subsided. "Do not be scared, child." Chains rattled. "I certainly cannot hurt you."

"But," Marian moved closer. "Who are you? Why are you down here?"

The woman laughed. It was more of a wheezing sound than anything Marian thought of as laughter. "The sheriff brought me here as his 'guest' nearly five years ago. He did not want me to leave."

Marian was finally close enough to make out the other woman's features. Greasy brown hair pooled around where she lay, curled into a ball on the cold stone floor. Chains bound both her feet to the closest wall, disappearing under a once fine gown, now stained with water and bits of food.

"Oh, my...what did he do to you?" Marian hurried over, kneeling down by the other woman.

The woman squinted at her. "Do I—know you?"

Marian automatically started shaking her head, then paused. "You almost look like someone I know..."

"I am sure I do not look like anyone anymore. Not even myself."

"Do you have a son?" Marian asked.

"I had a son once," the woman answered on a sigh. "I have not seen him in a very long time. He was twelve or thirteen. A tall boy, nearly as tall as his father."

Marian narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. "What is your name? Do you remember?"

The woman's voice when she replied was sharp. "Of course I remember! The sheriff calls me his Scarlett Bird, you see...and that is my name. Dulcina Scarlett."

Marian gasped. "You are Will's mother!"