Outcasts

Chapter 51 - Alone in the Night

The wind was howling, and it shook the windows of the castle, trying to penetrate the closed shutters. Robin turned in the bed, unable to sleep even if he felt terribly tired.
The room was too empty, its shadows cold and terrifying, and every little sound startled him.
He sat up with a nervous, embarrassed laughter.
It was ridiculous, he thought, he had never been afraid of the darkness, not even when he was a child, and yet now he couldn't take himself to put off the candle on his bedside table.
If he closed his eyes, he had visions of Isabella all alone in the camp, or crying while her husband dragged her away, he could see the scars on her white, smooth skin, and her blue eyes filled with tears. And Gisborne's eyes too, so similar to his sister's and equally filled with fear, the blood trickling down his cheek and his face white and still as he dropped to the ground in a swoon.
Robin shuddered. If he tried to sleep he could also relive the terrible ride to the castle, with people who kept looking at him, calling his name, acclaiming him, while he only wished to disappear, to hide from their eyes.
He had managed not to disgrace himself only focusing on following Gisborne's horse, his eyes fixed on the back of the knight, his thoughts on his sister.
But now he was alone in that room, and every unpleasant thought, every fear, every terrible memory, they were all assaulting his mind, making him feel as if he was about to die, his heart pounding in his chest and feeling more sick than he had ever felt when he had travelled by sea to reach the king in the Holy Land.
He got up from bed and he glanced at the chamberpot under the bed, but he decided against using it, choosing to reach the privy at the end of the corridor, instead.
He staggered out of his room, hoping that the colder air could ease his nausea a little, but as soon as he was in the corridor, he remembered that during the siege he had run along those same corridors, trying to stop prince John's soldiers after he had killed the sheriff, and finding only blood and corpses, innocent victims, dead because of his actions. And it was there that Much had been killed and that he had lost his mind...
Robin could almost see the blood seeping from the walls and pooling on the floor, and he knew that he couldn't keep his stomach from turning. He ran the last few steps to the privy, making it there just in time before being sick. He fell to his knees in front of the stinking hole on the ground and he threw up.
When his stomach was finally empty, he didn't get up and he didn't move, too exhausted and upset to do anything.
How can I hope to help her, when I can't help myself?
The stones of the floor where cold and dirty, and Robin thought that he really should get back to his feet, but the simple idea of getting out of that room seemed too overwhelming.
He closed his eyes, trying to steady his breath and he found himself thinking of the words that Gisborne had told him just a few hours ago, that they weren't alone.
He wondered how Guy was, if he too was suffering like him. With a pang of jealousy he thought that Gisborne probably was with Marian and that he was getting from her any comfort he could need.
That unpleasant thought gave him the strength to get up from the floor. He opened the door of the privy, deciding that he had at least to go back to his room, that he had to avoid to be seen like that.
He leaned on the wall of the corridor to walk because he felt weak and unsteady on his feet. When he arrived to a window he stopped to look outside and to take a breath of fresh air, but he was startled to see a lonely figure sitting in the courtyard by the tree, despite the wind and the snow.
Robin recognized Gisborne and he wondered why he was there all alone, sitting outside in the cold weather. Instead of going to hide into his room, Robin found himself walking towards the courtyard.

Guy pushed back the hood of his cloak and lifted his face to the falling snow, closing his eyes to better feel the cold touch of the snowflakes on his skin.
He listened to the silence of the night, broken only by the howling of the wind, and he tried to not think, but his mind kept going back to the conversation with Sir Roland.
The sheriff had been harsh, but at last he had decided to do nothing about Isabella and he had forbidden Robin and Guy to tell him where she was hiding.
"If I don't know where she is, I won't have to lie when her husband comes to ask it to me."
But Sir Roland hadn't said if he could save her from her terrible marriage. Guy suspected that the sheriff could sympathize with Isabella, but that he didn't have the power to help her.
I will save you, somehow. Guy swore. I sacrificed your happiness so many years ago, and now I have to make things right.
Guy opened his eyes feeling, more than actually hearing, a presence in the courtyard, and he looked around until he saw Robin approaching.
"Hood?"
Robin reached him, and Guy moved aside on the bench to leave him some space to sit.
"What are you doing here, Gisborne?" Robin asked, dropping himself at Gisborne's side. "Trying to freeze to death?"
Guy glanced at him.
"Said the one who isn't even wearing a cloak... You alright, Hood?"
Robin let out a ragged sigh.
"No, I'm not," he admitted.
"Me neither."
"Does it still bleed?" Robin asked, pointing at the cut on Guy's cheek and Gisborne shook his head.
"That scratch is nothing. I may feel faint because of it, but it doesn't matter, it isn't important. I keep thinking of Isabella and I just wish that I could reach her to protect her, but I guess that it would only make things worse."
"Do you think that the sheriff will actually find a way to help her?" Robin was dejectedly sitting on the bench, his eyes downcast and staring at the ground, and he had spoken in a low, hopeless tone.
"I don't know, but probably he's right to keep us here at the castle while he thinks about it. The guards won't lift the portcullis to let us out."
"How do you know?"
Guy sighed.
"I tried. How could I sleep when I remember so well how afraid of the dark she was when she was little? When we had to spend the night outside because we didn't find a shelter, she was always terrified. She remembered the scary tales she heard from the servants about wolves and the wild animals that lived in the forests, and she was afraid that they would come to eat us while we slept..." Guy ruefully smiled at that memory. "She wouldn't sleep if she couldn't grab my cloak and she kept waking up and asking if I had heard this or that noise. At last I ended up staying awake most of the night so that she could sleep peacefully, knowing that I was keeping watch..."
"There are other ways out of the castle rather than the portcullis," Robin said, but Guy shook his head.
"I don't like that he had to give orders to the guards to stop us, but I think Sir Roland is right, actually. If we openly side with Isabella, we could be outlawed, we'd lose all the privileges we have as nobles and any power we could use to help her. My heart wants to go to her, but staying at the castle is the most sensible thing we can do for now. Even if it hurts."
"That's why are you sitting here under the snow?" Robin asked. "I thought you would be with Marian." He added, a bitter vein in his voice.
"I wish I could," Guy said, with a resigned grin, "but she's more guarded than the portcullis. Until we marry, the sheriff won't allow us to create a public scandal in his castle. She has to stay with the other women and do embroidery with them."
"Oh, she'll love it!" Robin said with an ironic grin and Guy smiled too.
"When I heard your steps, I half expected to see the Nightwatchman trying to run away from the castle."
"Sorry to have disappointed you."
Guy shrugged.
"I guess that your company is still better than being alone with my thoughts."
He glanced at Robin, and he frowned, noticing how pale he was. He stood up, dusting the snow away from his cloak.
"Hood? Maybe we should better get inside. You look like you're about to be sick."
"Too late for that," Robin muttered, but he got to his feet too, albeit a little unsteadily, and Gisborne grabbed his arm to support him.
They walked slowly to the main entrance of the castle, and Guy helped Robin to climb the stairs, worried to see how weak he seemed. He was afraid that he was going to faint or that he would slip on the snow covered steps and fall down on the hard stones of the courtyard. Once they entered the castle, Guy took one of the corridors, and Robin gave him a confused look.
"Our lodgings are not this way."
"We're not going there."
"Where, then?"
"The kitchens."
Robin gave him an annoyed look.
"I surely don't want to eat, now."
Guy opened the door of the kitchens and the servants who were working there looked at Robin and him, worried.
"We're not here to eat, but I need a few ingredients. Now sit by the fire and wait there. You!" Guy called a scullion who was stacking some firewood near the fireplace. "Bring a chair for Sir Robin, and you," he turned to one of the cooks, "let me see what you have in the pantry."
The boy hurried to obey, running to fetch a chair for Robin, while the cook gave a wary look at Guy. She remembered him before the siege and she had always been frightened by him, but she also knew that during the attack he had bravely fought to defend the castle and she was grateful for that because, thanks to his resistance, she and a few other servants had the time to hide or run away.
"Are you hungry, Sir Guy?" She asked respectfully, but Guy shook his head.
"Do you have any herbs here?"
The cook gave a curious look at him.
"Herbs, my lord? We use some of them to cook, of course, they are there."
The woman pointed at a shelf, and Guy examined the bags and the pots that contained the herbs, choosing a few of them.
"These will do. Now boil some water, not too much, but enough to fill a pitcher."
The cook promptly obeyed, and she poured water in a pot, placing it on the fire. Guy added the herbs to it, took a spoon to carefully taste the result, and he added a few other pinches of herbs and spices from the bags he had selected, until he was satisfied.
He glanced at Robin, who was sitting by the fireplace with his eyes closed, and he added some more chamomile to the infusion.
"Do you have honey too, by any chance?" He asked the cook, and the woman nodded, still unsure.
"Yes, Sir Guy."
The woman went to the pantry and came back after a moment with a pot of honey.
"Very well. Now take the infusion away from the fire, pour it in a pitcher and bring us two cups. And you, boy, take another chair by the fireplace."
As soon as the servants obeyed, Guy poured the herbal infusion in the two cups, and added some honey to both of them, then he gave one to Robin, and kept the other for himself.
Robin looked at it, frowning.
"What is it, Gisborne? Have you decided to put me out of my misery by poisoning me?"
Guy sat on the other chair and he enjoyed the warmth of the fire for a few moments before answering.
"Quite the contrary, I'd say. This will make you feel better. I used herbs that soothe the stomach and others that can help to relax, and it's warm, it helps after staying outside in the snow." He drank first, emptying his cup to show Robin that it wasn't poisonous, and he smiled. "And honey makes it taste good too."
At last Robin decided to trust him, and began to drink the infusion. Guy looked at him for a while, pleased, then he turned to fill his cup again and he met the incredulous stare of the cook.
"What?" Guy asked, frowning, and the woman winced.
"Forgive me, my lord! I was just surprised!"
"Why?"
The woman hesitated, afraid of angering him, but she knew that when one of the nobles asked a question, the servants had no choice but answering.
"I had heard about it, some women at the market were saying that the healer, Matilda, claimed to have you as an apprentice, but I couldn't believe it... Is it true, Sir Guy? Did she really teach you how to treat illnesses?"
Guy nodded.
"Well, she did, a little. She taught me a few things, but there's still a lot I have to learn yet."
The cook stared at him for a moment, impressed, then she gave him a respectful little bow and went back to do her work.
When Guy turned back to look at Robin, the other man was staring at him in mild surprise.
"I think you shocked her. The dangerous henchman of the sheriff who is able to treat stomach aches and colds..." Robin said, shaking his head with an amused look in his eyes.
"You are making fun of me again, it means that you feel better."
Robin looked at the empty cup and sighed.
"I wasn't making fun of you, Gisborne. Actually this isn't half bad, I must admit it."
"Now I am shocked, Hood, was that a praise?" Guy said, grinning.
"Maybe I was just thanking you."
"Yes, you are definitely unwell," Guy said, serious. "and I feel tired. Maybe we should get some sleep."
Robin grimaced.
"I wish I could."
"The nightmares... When you close your eyes, they come... They come even when you're not asleep, they just lurk in the dark, waiting for you to be alone..." Guy sighed. "I know how you feel, Hood, even too well."
"Don't you have a remedy for that?"
"I wish I had. Some herbs make you sleep, but Matilda says that you have to be careful with them, that we should use them only when there is a real need."
"Like when one tries to slash his own hands?" Robin asked, looking at the scars on his palms.
Guy nodded.
"Yes, we gave that remedy to you too. Did it send nightmares away?"
"No, it trapped me inside those nightmares. I wanted to wake up and I couldn't."
"I'm sorry. But it was necessary."
Robin sighed.
"I know. And I suppose you are right, I'm exhausted and we can't afford to be weak if we want to protect Isabella. I must at least try to sleep." He stood up and Guy followed him.
When they arrived to Robin's room, Robin opened the door and he glanced at the darkness waiting for him: the candle went off while he was gone and he couldn't move from the threshold.
He felt silly for that irrational fear, and he tried to hide it, but still he couldn't force himself to step into the room.
"Hood? Why is your fireplace unlit? This room is chilly." Guy said, glancing through the open door, and Robin's gaze flew to the fireplace. Gisborne was right: the fire in it was reduced to embers and Robin remembered that earlier a servant had come to knock at his door, saying that he had to rekindle the fire, but he hadn't opened, feeling too upset to see anyone.
"I should have added some firewood to it, but I forgot."
"It doesn't matter, I'll call for a servant."
"No!"
Guy frowned, and he looked at him.
"You can't sleep in such a cold room."
"Can I sleep in yours? If there's a cot it will be alright, otherwise I can sleep on the floor, I'm used to it. I... I just don't think I can be alone tonight."
Gisborne glanced at him, worried to see Robin so vulnerable and unsure, but he nodded.
"Not a problem. The sheriff assigned us large rooms, there's enough space for both of us and I'm already used to hear you snoring," he concluded with a grin.

Isabella looked at the fire, and she added another log to it. The flames were warm and bright and they would burn at least until dawn, so she could go to sleep without fear of freezing.
The camp was strangely comfortable to be in the middle of the forest, and the sheltered part of it had been built in solid wood. The bunks were comfortable and there were no drafts, so with a good fire and thick blankets she didn't feel cold, even if outside it was snowing.
She was alone.
Matilda's daughter accompanied her, explaining her how to open and close the secret door and how to set the fire, then she went away because she had to care for her child.
It felt strange to know that nobody was around and once she would have been scared, but she found out that instead she was feeling very calm.
She was alone, but she was also free and safe, at least for now.
Nobody would find her there, nobody could hurt her.
Isabella wrapped herself in the blanket, and she smiled because it was Robin's blanket and she could imagine his arms holding her. She wondered if he was worried for her disappearance, and she hoped that he and Guy would support each other and find a solution to free her from her cruel husband.
She sighed, knowing perfectly well that only death could set her free. It was to see if it would be her death or her husband's.
Obviously she hoped for the latter, even if she knew that, whatever was going to happen, surely there would be a price to pay.
She prayed that it wouldn't be too high.