The Lost Ballad of Sherwood Forest - Chapter 4 of 7

[gentleice]

4 Playing with the Flames of Time


There was one thing to be said for being stuck seven hundred years in the past; Noah now had greater appreciation for the modern technologies he had taken for granted. Part of his work as Deputy Sheriff was to keep records of the tax collections, consolidating information provided by the constables. Without the aid of a computer, it was a thankless and time-consuming task. It consumed him even now when he was walking through the woods after his daily round. Instead of enjoying the fresh air and the dulcet sounds of birdsong, he was tallying numbers in his head.

He was so preoccupied, he did not notice that someone was standing in his path. A gentle tap on his shoulder startled him back to his present surroundings. It was Luke, dressed in what he termed "Robin Hood drag"; a green tunic over tightly fitted green trousers, belted with a strip of green-dyed leather. But his boots were black and he had eschewed the feathered green cap, choosing to leave his head bare.

"Is something wrong, Noah? You seem to be brooding."

"Yes, about the joys of an Excel spreadsheet."

Luke scrunched up his face with distaste. "Ouch, it must be pretty bad if you're missing spreadsheets! Let me distract you for a while. Do you know Widow Jennings? She works for the farmer Evans."

"Yes, I visited her a couple of days ago to collect her taxes." Noah recalled a kindly woman in her late forties, with a smile that reminded him of his Aunt Ruth's.

"Did she mention her son, Tim Jennings? He recently came back to stay with her after spending a few years in Yorkshire."

"Yes, she told me about him. I wanted to meet him but he was out."

"Did she tell you about his hare-lip?"

"Hare-lip?" Noah frowned, not understand what that meant.

"It's what we would call a cleft palette," Luke explained. "He was born that way and in this century, it means there's nothing to be done about it. And it's the reason that Evans wants to evict Widow Jennings and her son from their home."

"He can't do that!" Noah was appalled.

"Exactly! There should be laws against that sort of thing, right?" Luke said heatedly. "That was the first thing I thought, but then I remembered that we're living in a feudal society. The landowners make the laws. Evans thinks that a hare-lip is bad luck. If he allows the Jennings to stay, his crop will apparently fail, or some such superstitious nonsense. So he ordered them to leave by tomorrow."

"Why didn't she say anything to me?" Noah wondered. "I can get the Sheriff to intervene on her behalf."

"She's scared, Noah. That's another wonderful thing about feudalism, on top of subjecting the working class to near penury. She's deadly afraid of Evans. I tried to persuade her to talk to you, but she thinks it'll just make Evans angry, and then she'll still have to go. But you can help her, right? I mean, feudalism be damned, you must have some authority as the Deputy Sheriff."

"I'll see what I can do, but I should speak with her first."

Luke nodded and was already tugging Noah by the elbow. "Come on, I'll take you to her."

They found Widow Jennings outside her tiny cottage, surrounded by several bundles wrapped in cloth. She had clearly been packing up all her belongings, preparing to move.

"Deputy," she said in surprise when she saw Noah with Luke. "What are you doing here? Was there a problem with my taxes? I counted carefully to make sure I gave you the correct amount."

"Good day, ma'am. I'm not here about your taxes," Noah assured her kindly. "You're packing to leave. Can you tell me why? If you'll let me, perhaps I can help you."

"Widow Jennings, tell the Deputy what you told me. Let him help you," Luke urged.

She looked at them uncertainly and was in visible distress. For a long while, she was silent while Luke put his arm around her and patted her on her shoulder. Just when Noah was about to prod further, she broke down and told him about her son's affliction and the eviction order from Farmer Evans.

"Please, Deputy," she finished, her voice shaking with tears, "don't tell Farmer Evans that I said any of this. I don't want to anger him. He'll take it out on us. Life's difficult enough for my poor Tim."

Noah did a few quick mental calculations and smiled. "Don't worry, I'll settle this matter with Evans. And there will be no trouble caused to you or to Tim. Leave it in my hands, Widow Jennings."

She still looked terrified but nodded gratefully. "Thank you, Deputy. May I ask what you plan to do?"

"I'm going to have a word with Farmer Evans," Noah said. "He'll be in the fields now, I believe. No time like the present. Stay here and await my good news, Widow Jennings. And please stop packing your things. You'll not be going anywhere."

He turned to leave and Luke followed behind him. When Widow Jennings was out of hearing range, Luke asked, "What are you going to do? And may I watch you doing it?"

"I'm going to talk to Evans, but I think it's best that I do it alone. It'd be strange if you were there with me."

"Okay, I'll just hide somewhere and eavesdrop. If there's one thing I've learned from hanging with Robin Hood's people, it's the art of eavesdropping. But tell me, what will you say to Evans?"

Noah inhaled deeply and said with as much confidence as he could muster, "Something I learned in a freshman Economics class. I don't actually remember that much from that course, but hopefully, I remember enough."

"Noah? Do you know what you're doing?" Luke sounded worried.

"Not really," Noah confided with a nervous laugh. "But I'm guessing that Evans will know even less than I do."

They were walking now on a lane bisecting a wheat field. This land belonged to Farmer Evans and they saw the man himself raking the soil in an empty plot. Luke quickly darted behind the row of trees growing on one side of the lane.

Evans stood upright as Noah came up to him. "Good day, Deputy Mayer," he greeted. "Is something amiss? It was only this morning when I saw you. My tax dues will be ready for your collection by next week, as we agreed."

"There was something I forgot to mention to you about your taxes," Noah said, making it up as he went along. "The amount we settled upon assumes that your hires and tenants are unchanged from your last declaration. Should you release any of them, there will be a surcharge of ten pounds per person."

Evans's eyes widened with astonishment. "I pay more taxes if I have fewer people in my employment? Deputy, that makes no sense!"

"The tax system is designed to incentivize hiring by landowners and yeomen like yourself," Noah explained. He was more or less fumbling in the dark but hoped that he came across as knowledgeable.

"Incen...?" Evans struggled to repeat the word and gave up. "What does that mean?"

"It means to encourage through reward. Landowners with more hires and tenants benefit from a lower tax burden. It's a reward for providing work to the needy and shelter to the poor. It's a newfangled idea. I'm not sure, but I believe it's all the rage in London and on the continent."

"Perhaps the King learned it from the French," Evans said. Although he was still frowning, he seemed convinced by what he had heard.

"That appears to be so," Noah agreed. "I confess that I cannot fully understand the instructions we receive from the Exchequer. We're merely vassals of the Chancellor. It's my duty to ensure that your tenancy list is in accordance with the records in our rolls. Is that the case, Farmer Evans?"

"I have a new man, not yet added to the rolls. Tim Jennings, son of the Widow Jennings. He's newly returned from Yorkshire. Tomorrow, he begins working in my fields."

Noah smiled and did his best to hide his inner glee. "I'll make sure to include his name in your records. This will be reflected in your dues for next year. Thank you for the notice, Farmer Evans. I'll not bother you and let you return to your work. Good day to you."

Noah walked away quickly and as soon as he was back inside the woods, Luke emerged from behind the trees. He pounced on Noah, grabbing him by the arm and holding on to him.

"You're a genius, Noah Mayer!" he cried, eyes bright with excitement and admiration. It made Noah doubly glad for what he had done. "I don't know how you managed it, but you just undermined the institution of feudalism. That was brilliant!"

"That was actually mostly bullshit. I was winging it and I had my fingers crossed behind my back the whole time."

"It was damn good bullshit, and delivered with complete conviction. That was one of the most incredible things I've ever witnessed! Really, Noah, I'm not kidding. You were amazing."

Noah flushed, embarrassed to be the subject of such effusive praise. "I was only doing my best to help Widow Jennings and her son. I'm glad they get to stay," he deflected.

"I can't wait to tell her the good news," Luke said.

In the distance, they could see Widow Jennings standing outside her cottage. She was too far away for her face to be seen, but it was clear from her body language that she was waiting anxiously for their return.

"Go on, Luke. Run ahead and tell her."

"Shouldn't you be the one to tell her? You sorted this whole thing out for her."

"But you were the one who brought it to my attention. Besides, I'm tired from a whole day on my feet and she shouldn't have to wait a minute longer than necessary. Go on. I'll be there in a while."

Luke grinned and sprinted towards the cottage. Noah watched as Widow Jennings threw her arms around Luke and hugged him tight. He smiled to himself. The duties of the Sheriff's Deputy were often dull and unpleasant, but this was a good day.

As Noah came closer to the cottage, a young man appeared from the other side of the woods. He was dressed in the uniform of the Royal Foresters and Noah recognized him as one of Sir Guy's men. Paying no heed to Widow Jennings, he drew his broadsword and brandished it in Luke's direction.

"What is your name?" he demanded without ceremony.

Luke stood his ground without cowering. "It's nothing to do with you but I'm called Luke Snyder. And what, pray tell, is your name?"

"I'm Henry Packard, a guard with the Order of the Royal Foresters. In the name of the Crown, I arrest you, Luke Snyder."

"Arrest me?" Luke asked, chuckling. "For what, if I may ask?"

"With my own eyes, I saw you hunting the royal deer in the forest," Packard declared, once again waving his broadsword at Luke. "Do not resist, Luke Snyder. Surrender yourself into my custody."

Luke stuck out his chin and said defiantly, "You may have seen someone hunting deer, but it wasn't me. As you can see for yourself, I have no bow with me, nor a quiver."

"The man I saw was fair-haired like you. And he was all in green, also like you. I don't think the resemblance is coincidental." Packard advanced upon Luke but was foiled when Luke neatly evaded him.

"Your accusation doesn't signify," Luke said. "Fully a fifth of the men in Nottingham are fair-haired like me. And there isn't any law against wearing this color. I'm told it brings out the sparkle in my eyes."

"Cease your impudence, Snyder!"

However, Luke was now on a roll. "If I'm breaking a law by wearing this color, then you must arrest yourself. If you'll look down at your own attire, you too are all in green."

"This is the uniform of the Royal Foresters!"

"And very fetching it is. It lends a very pleasing flush to your complexion."

"Enough, Snyder! I order you to surrender," Packard demanded angrily.

Luke shook his head and asked, "When and where was it that you witnessed this incident of which I'm accused?"

"Below two hundred yards away and not above a half hour ago."

"Then it couldn't have been me," Luke pronounced. "I was here with Widow Jennings a half hour ago."

"Yes, he was," the lady spoke up timidly. "I'll vouch for Luke."

"The word of a peasant counts for naught," Packard scoffed.

Deciding that he had heard enough, Noah made his presence known. "Would the word of the Deputy Sheriff count for more?" he asked.

"Deputy Mayer!" Packard exclaimed with surprise. "Have you been standing there all this while?"

Luke shot Noah a warning look, raising one eyebrow in alarm. Noah understood what Luke was trying to say; by pitting himself against the foresters, Noah was putting his own position in jeopardy.

Noah shook his head slightly at Luke, and then told Packard, "A half hour ago, I was here with Luke Snyder and Widow Jennings. You have two witnesses to counter what you claim. The man that you saw hunting the deer wasn't Luke Snyder. I suggest you look elsewhere for the true culprit."

"If you say so. I'm sorry to have troubled you, Luke Snyder," Packard said, bowing his head and sheathing his sword. He turned to go, doubt still showing on his face.

Later, after Noah had received Widow Jennings' gratitude and as they were walking away, Luke looked at Noah and asked in a worried tone, "Why did you do that, Noah? Won't this cause you problems with the Archdeacon?"

Noah shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe. But I couldn't stand by and do nothing. I can't very well let Packard arrest you."

"And for that, I thank you," Luke said earnestly. "But I don't want you getting into trouble because of me. It's not worth it, Noah."

"It is worth it," Noah insisted. "I'm in a position to do it, so I have to look out for you, Luke. It's just how it is."

Luke fell quiet for several moments and his eyes were downcast. Then he smiled and said, "I think I might have told you before, Noah Mayer, but it bears repeating. If I have to be stuck in the past, I'm glad to be stuck here with you."

Noah thought that this was a very good day.

***

Luke shot an arrow into the air and it landed just shy of the dime-sized target, an old woodpecker hole in a tree. Noah applauded as Luke went to retrieve the arrow and replace it in his quiver.

"You're getting quite good at this," Noah observed.

"My hit rate's pretty decent for up-close targets," Luke agreed. "But I haven't the strength to hit anything too far away. Which is good, in a way. It keeps me from having to hunt. I said my shoulder isn't fully recovered and they're buying it for now."

"Speaking of hunting, did you figure out who it was that Packard saw and mistook for you?"

"It was probably Will Scarlett. He's blonde and he's about my height. And he brought a deer back to camp that day. Ugh." Luke shuddered and stuck out his tongue, as if to air away the unwelcome taste of venison.

"I wish I could meet them," Noah said wistfully. "Robin Hood and the Merry Men. It's a crying shame to come all the way here to medieval Nottingham and not meet the legends themselves."

Luke nodded sympathetically. "I know what you mean. Maybe before we go back, you'll have your chance to meet them. But right now, if you meet them, you'll probably have to arrest them. At least the ones who are known members of Robin's band, like Alan-A-Dale and Little John. You know, the ones who get mentioned in the ballads. Fortunately, Luke Snyder isn't in that illustrious company. Normally, I might be a little miffed at that, but hey, it kept me from being arrested! Anonymity isn't always a bad thing."

"And not being arrested it always a good thing. You're on their radar now, Luke. You have to be extra careful if you run into any of the foresters."

"Speaking of which, has this come up with Sir Guy? I imagine Packard must have reported this to his boss."

"I haven't seen Sir Guy since the incident."

"That was almost a week ago. Didn't you say that he practically lives at the Sheriff's house? I thought you'd run into him when you're there."

"I haven't, in the last few days," Noah said, averting his eyes from Luke's.

He did not tell Luke that he had been avoiding Sir Guy since that uncomfortable night in his room. He had not told Luke about that disastrous encounter, nor about the scene he witnessed between Sir Guy and Thomas the valet. It dismayed to him to withhold anything from Luke. They shared the tales of their daily experiences like two soldiers comparing war wounds. But telling this tale in its entirety would mean telling Luke that he was gay. Having put off that conversation for so long, Noah no longer knew how to broach the subject. It had always seemed too soon before, and now it was too late.

"He sounds fascinating," Luke was saying, oblivious to Noah's inner distress. "The villagers talk about him all the time. They're quite in awe of him although they don't quite know what to make of him. Which sort of makes him the medieval version of Batman. And that's something I never thought I'd say about Sir Guy of Gisborne."

"My ears are burning," an unexpected voice broke in. "Are you talking about me?"

The interruption came from Sir Guy himself who was standing straight and tall in a pool of morning sunlight. It was as if he deliberately chose that very spot, like a model finding the center of a spotlight. As always, he was all in black and cut a striking figure, especially with his mahogany hair gleaming against the cloudless sky. Noah squinted and saw Sir Guy's horse grazing quietly in the distance. Sir Guy had deliberately come here on foot, perhaps hoping to catch Noah unawares.

"Sir Guy, why have you come here?" Noah asked, assuming his most professional tone.

Sir Guy flashed his customary smile, which had a high quotient of smirking condescension. "I always wondered why you spent so much time in this provincial outpost, rather than the comforts of a great house in Nottingham Town." His gaze alighted on Luke and his voice dropped by half an octave. "Now that I've seen the scenery, I understand the pleasures to be found here. It's a most rewarding sight indeed."

Noah suppressed a groan. Luke was regarding Sir Guy with awe-struck bewilderment while Sir Guy was studying Luke appreciatively, like a cat with its eye on a particularly tasty canary.

"Sir Guy," Noah said sternly, "you didn't come all this way to admire the view. Can I be of assistance to you in any way?"

"Ah, Deputy, you refused to be of assistance in the way I truly wanted. But the past should be put behind us, yes?" Sir Guy arched his left eyebrow meaningfully, then said more seriously, "I came to speak with you about an incident witnessed by Henry Packard, one of my men. He saw someone hunting deer but you vouched for the culprit."

"I wasn't the culprit because I didn't do it!" Luke spoke up indignantly. "Choose your words more carefully, Sir Guy of Gisborne. You and your men are wont to judge a man guilty before he's proven innocent. It's an unbecoming trait for officers of the Crown."

"The man himself! You must be Luke Snyder," Sir Guy said, seeming quite amused.

"I am."

"Packard described you as fair-haired and impudent. He's correct on both counts. But he neglected to mention that you are pretty as the flowers in May. A tragic oversight on his part."

Sir Guy was now resorting to his hood-lidded smile, his upper lip curling with sensuous intent. To Noah's amazement, it seemed to charm Luke, who was smiling back at Sir Guy in a way that Noah had never seen before. Or more accurately, in a way that he had never seen from Luke before. It was a smile he had seen often in gay bars and clubs. Hell, he himself had been on the receiving end of such a smile more times than he cared to count. But never before from Luke. And not now either; it was Sir Guy who was the beneficiary of this particular smile.

"You don't mind being called pretty, do you?" Sir Guy continued, now completely ignoring Noah. "I find it the perfect word for a beautiful youth like yourself. You should not take offense when I meant it wholeheartedly as a compliment."

Luke inclined his head and his cheeks flushed slightly. "I'm very flattered, thank you. Such praise from you is a pot calling the kettle black. Or more aptly, a dove saying that a swan is white."

"I hope I'm not the dove in that delightful picture. You'll find that I'm not so docile nor tame, Luke Snyder. My temper prefers the beast that beats in the heart of a wild swan."

"I like to think there is both a beast and a dove in each of us," Luke said.

"Indeed, there's nothing more alluring than watching a dove turn wild in the heat of passion," Sir Guy agreed, his voice lowering even further into a rumbling purr.

Noah felt like he was drowning. Luke and Sir Guy were enacting a full-scale flirtation in front of his eyes. Even as it unfolded, it seemed distant and surreal. It was like watching abstract experimental theater; there was a hidden meaning to everything being said but the subtext was beyond his comprehension.

He was holding his breath and was consequently feeling dizzy. He coughed to force air back into his lungs and was surprised by the loud sound the effort produced. It startled Luke and Sir Guy, who both turned to face him.

Having regained Sir Guy's attention, Noah said in a business-like tone, "Sir Guy, regarding the incident that brought you here, I trust the matter is resolved to your satisfaction? Luke Snyder was not the man that Packard saw. There is nothing to investigate."

"Quite so," Sir Guy agreed. "I have come all this way on a fool's errand. But I've never been so glad to be a fool as today." He bowed with a flourish, waving his hat in a salute to Luke. "I trust we'll cross paths again very soon, Luke Snyder. I look forward to it."

With that, he whistled for his horse and it galloped up to him. In a flash he mounted the animal and was riding away. Before he was out of sight, he favored Luke with a blazing smile, accompanied by a wink.

When they were alone again, Noah asked shakily, "Luke, what the hell was that?" He hoped that a logical explanation was forthcoming before his brain decided to shut down.

Luke seemed not to hear him and said with breathless excitement, "Noah! You never said that Sir Guy of Gisborne looks so much like Brian Kinney!"

"Brian Kinney?" Noah repeated, puzzled and flustered.

"Brian Kinney! You know, the Brian Kinney! From Q.A.F.?"

"Q.A.F.?"

"Queer as Folk, it was a series on Showtime," Luke elaborated, still in the grips of an adrenaline rush. Then he calmed down and appeared to become aware of Noah's unease. His facial expression changed from giddy to guilty to sheepish, and finally settled on grim determination.

"Luke, please start saying something that makes sense," Noah pleaded.

Luke was now scarily composed and there was a strange stiffness in his movements as he lowered himself to the ground. "I think we should sit down for this."

Noah followed suit and imitated Luke's sitting position, hugging his knees close to his chest. "Luke, what's all this about?"

"It's all in the title. Queer as Folk, folk who are queer. Queer as in LGBT. You're probably not familiar with the show because you're not part of the target demographic. But Noah," Luke paused and time suspended until he continued, "I am part of the demographic. I should have said something a long time ago, but you should know that... I'm gay."

Noah could not respond to his sudden revelation. This was another too-sudden twist in an already overly twisty morning. At the back of his mind, he was convinced that he would soon wake up and learn that this was all a dream.

"I've never kept it a secret since coming out all those years ago," Luke went on, directing his words to the tips of his boots. "It was killing me not to tell you and I hated myself for it. But we're here in this time, and it's just the two of us. Like it or not, we have to rely on each other to survive. I couldn't afford to alienate you or make you feel uncomfortable around me. And then we were getting along so well, I just didn't want things to become awkward between us."

Luke chanced a glance at Noah and there was a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. Still unable to form a coherent reply, Noah offered a reassuring smile.

"I wasn't very fair to you, Noah," Luke continued. "It wasn't right for me to assume that you'd react badly. I should have trusted you more and told you the truth. I guess, despite all my bravado about being out and proud, there's a part of me that still fears being rejected. Especially in a crunch situation like ours. But it's not an excuse. I'm sorry, Noah, and I hope that you'll forgive me."

Noah finally found his voice. "Only if you forgive me too. Or rather, there's nothing to forgive. Not when I did the exact same thing, and for the exact same reasons."

Luke was quick to catch on. "You're gay? Why didn't you... right, you just said it yourself. You thought I might be an asshole about it." He laughed and his shoulders relaxed. "We are a pair, aren't we? We could have had this conversation out of the way weeks ago!"

"Maybe not," Noah confessed, shame-faced. "I'm not really very practiced in this business of coming out to people."

Luke nodded sympathetically and squeezed Noah's shoulder. "You came out very recently," he surmised. Then he sat up straighter as realization sparked in his eyes. "You said you argued with your father before coming to Nottingham. Was it because you came out to him?"

"I told him I'm gay and he disowned me." That argument had lasted over an hour but it could be summarized with such brutal concision.

"I'm more sorry than ever that we didn't have this conversation earlier," Luke said ruefully. "You could have done with a sounding board instead of bottling it all up. And I know a thing or two about dealing with parental rejection. I don't know, maybe I could have helped you."

Noah smiled, feeling lighter than he had in weeks. "You can help me now. I could still do with that sounding board."

Luke returned the smile with one of his own, radiant and bright. This was, Noah decided, his favorite smile from Luke's considerable repertoire.

"Okay then," Luke said happily, "let's talk."

And so they talked. About Noah's father and Luke's mother; about being gay in a heteronormative world, about dealing with bullies and about tolerating gay stereotypes. They talked until it seemed there was nothing left to talk about.

And yet, Noah had a niggling feeling that the most important thing still remained to be said.

***

"Luke, my lad," said Little John, putting his arm around Luke's shoulder and guiding him away from camp. "A word, if you don't mind?"

Luke shrugged and allowed himself to be led. It was his turn to gather firewood for the day and it was a task he had no qualms about putting off.

When they were a considerable distance away, Little John sat down on the stump of a felled tree. He stroked his chin gravely and said, "Far be it for me to meddle with the matters of the heart, Luke, but may I ask what it is between your good self and the fair Maid Marian?"

"Between us? There's nothing between us but friendship," Luke said with a sense of dread. He had been doing his best to downplay the special attention that Marian paid to him. He had even told her in so many words that he had no romantic interest in her, a declaration which had elicited a wink and a knowing smile, but no cessation of her affectionate behavior towards him.

"It sure looks like much more than friendship to me. Most importantly, it looks that way to Robin," Little John sighed. "The heart wants what it wants, young Luke. If your eyes are on Marian, I can hardly blame you, but you should know it doesn't sit well with Robin."

"I have no intentions towards Marian other than friendship," Luke asserted. "I've said it many times before and I wish you'd believe me."

"It's not me who needs convincing, lad. You're ruffling Robin's feathers whether you mean to or not."

"He ruffles his own feathers!" Luke protested indignantly. "If he's so troubled, he should speak to Marian rather than misdirect his ire at me. I don't appreciate being cast as the villain when I've done absolutely nothing."

"Ah, now I've annoyed you," Little John said sadly. "Think no more about it, lad. Come, let's return to camp before they miss us."

Luke walked back with Little John, still irritated by their conversation. Perhaps the wise course of action would be to keep his distance from Marian. But he genuinely liked her and enjoyed her company. In some ways, she reminded him of his grandmother Lucinda, with her no-nonsense approach to dealing with Robin and the men. She was by far the most practical and level-headed person associated with Robin's band; and the only one who thought about something other than archery and hunting. The "give to the poor" part of the Robin Hood legend was entirely due to her. They rarely robbed from the rich- only once in the weeks since Luke joined them, and by all accounts, only twice in the twelve months before that- but when they did, Marian was the one who reminded the men of their obligation to share the spoils with the villagers.

Mutinously, Luke contemplated simply telling Robin the truth; Luke's amorous attentions would sooner settle on Robin before Marian, just by virtue of Robin being male. Even then, Robin would be rather low in Luke's pecking order. Treacherously, Luke's mind conjured up the image of Noah in all his long-limbed glory, with that gorgeous face and those beautiful eyes that sometimes seemed so troubled. Until yesterday, Luke had not known the reason for that lingering discomposure. Now that he did know, Luke understood Noah better but was also more confused by him. Before yesterday, Noah was the attractive straight friend and therefore safe fantasy fodder, like a matinee idol to be admired from afar because anything more was impossible. Now, such fantasies were dangerous because there was the nominal appearance of attainability.

Luke rebuked himself to stop thinking of Noah as anything other than a friend. Obligingly, his imagination called up the sight of Sir Guy of Gisborne, tall and sleek in black leather, lips curled in a lazy smile. There was no mistaking Sir Guy's intentions, nor anything confusing about his behavior. He wanted Luke and was straight-forward about it. Unlike Noah, it was safe to fantasize about Sir Guy. Luke clung to the thought of that blatantly seductive smirk, although it could not quite erase the ever present memory of piercingly blue eyes.

When they arrived back at the camp site, Marian was there. She greeted Luke with a warm smile and immediately took his arm. Watching from the side, Robin gave Luke a dark glare and then scowled. Annoyance provoked Luke into rebellion. He returned Marian's greeting with exaggerated enthusiasm, going so far as to kiss her on the cheek. If Robin wanted to act like a jealous idiot, Luke would give him a proper reason to be jealous.

Marian tugged at a lock of hair at the back of Luke's head, now extending below his ear. "Your hair is getting long. Should I cut it for you? You have very pretty hair but a shorter length suits you better. You needn't worry that I'll stab your scalp. I'm used to trimming my cousin's hair. It'll be better than taking up the shears yourself, or trusting one of this lot." She disdainfully gestured at the Merry Men who were indulging in their favorite pastime; fletching their arrows.

"I put myself in your hands," Luke said cheerfully.

"Come with me, I need more light for this task." Marian pulled Luke with her and they walked a short distance to a small area clear of trees where the sunlight was plentiful.

From her traveling bundle, Marian produced a pair of sprung scissors which were essentially bladed tongs. Luke was slightly alarmed by the sharp tips on the tool but sat down and quietly submitted to Marian's ministrations. She snipped away at his hair and he watched the golden locks scatter onto the ground.

"I'm almost done," she said at length. "Just this stubborn bit here, behind your ear."

She bent very close to him, till he could feel her breath on the back of his neck. Then there was a blur of motion and Luke felt the blade of her scissors grazing his nape, drawing blood. He jerked his head back reflexively and turned to look behind him.

Robin Hood had his hand around Marian's wrist and she was glaring at him angrily. She opened her mouth to say something but he stopped her. "Not now, Marian. Go back to the camp and I'll join you there shortly. I have something to say to Luke first."

"I'm not...," she protested but Luke nodded at her, silently telling her to do as Robin bade.

When they were left alone, Luke squared his shoulders and said, "Whatever it is you're thinking, you're wrong, Robin. You should..."

"No!" Robin shouted. "I'm not listening to any of your excuses. I don't know what happened to you in London Town, Luke Snyder. But you seem to have forgotten that there is honor even among us thieves. You know what Marian means to me and yet you..."

"Do I know?" Luke demanded, all semblance of patience now gone. "Does she know? It's not as if you've ever said anything. You're so hell-bent on being stoic, I've seen more emotion in a tree stump than from you!"

"How dare you talk to me like that!"

"It's about time that someone did! If you like Marian, then do something about it. Don't make me bear the brunt of your own wishy-washiness. You're the great Robin Hood, for crying out loud. But you act like a fourteen year old who can't string a sentence together in front of a girl he likes. It's really quite pathetic when I think about it. You know something? I don't blame Marian for looking elsewhere."

Luke was wildly exaggerating; that was the point of indulging in a rant. But he saw Robin's face tighten and he knew that he had gone too far.

"I want you leave," Robin ordered coldly. "We have no more use for you. Go, Luke Snyder. Now."

Luke did not argue and asked instead, "May I at least collect my things from camp?"

***

"Come stay with me," Noah said when Luke was done recounting his argument with Robin Hood.

"Stay with you?"

"At the Sheriff's house. My quarters there are large enough for two, with room to spare."

"But how will you explain it to the Sheriff?"

"You're my friend who's visiting Nottingham Town and in need of a place to stay. The Sheriff won't mind."

Luke sighed and looked a little less miserable. "It'd be good to sleep in an actual bed with an honest-to-goodness roof over my head. And there's the added bonus of not having to worry about wild animals attacking in the night."

So it was that they rode from Edwinstowe to the Sheriff's house in Nottingham Town. There, Noah introduced Luke to the Sheriff and his wife, both of whom warmly welcomed Luke to stay as long as he wanted. Noah then took Luke to the wing of the house where his living quarters were situated. Luke whistled appreciatively when they were inside the modestly furnished space.

"After two months in the woods, this is the height of luxury." He stopped at a desk covered in scraps of parchment. "What's all this, Noah?"

"Work," Noah said dolefully. "Tax records for the eastern districts. I'm supposed to be compiling them."

"Oh, I'll help you with that," Luke offered. "It's the least I can do since you're letting me stay here. I'll do it when you're out doing your rounds and keeping the peace, and all the other things you have on your plate."

"I can't push this onto you, Luke. This stuff is possibly worse than sleeping outdoors for two months."

"I have three younger siblings," Luke reminded him. "And therefore I have a black-belt in homework assistance. Let me take care of this for you."

Luke wandered away from the desk to the adjacent bedroom and stopped dead in his tracks. Even standing behind him, Noah could tell that he was vibrating with delight. The source of his joy was the bed that took up most of the room.

"I have a completely ridiculous urge to bounce up and down on that mattress," Luke announced, laughing out loud.

"Please don't!" Noah said, alarmed by the suggestion. The mattress was stuffed with feathers and cotton. While comfortable enough to sleep on, it was not sprung for bouncing.

"I won't," Luke assured him. "It was just a crazy impulse. Don't worry, it's passed. Besides, why waste time on bouncing when I can do this?" He flopped down onto the bed and sighed with satisfaction.

Sprawled out like that, Luke took up most of the mattress. Noah swallowed, suddenly remembering that there was only one bed here. When he invited Luke to stay with him, he had not considered sleeping arrangements. Although it would be a squeeze, the bed was large enough for two. However, the thought of sleeping in such proximity to Luke made him feel hot and cold all over.

"What's wrong, Noah?" Luke asked, obviously sensing his discomfort.

Noah fidgeted and waved awkwardly at the bed. "It's just... that is, there's only..."

Luke read his mind and filled in the blanks, "You're worried about who's sleeping where."

"Yeah."

"Not a problem at all. We'll share the bed," Luke said, like that was the most obvious solution.

"But..."

"But what?" Luke interjected tersely. "It's a bed, it's meant for sleeping and we both need to sleep. What else do you think is going to happen? I hate it when people assume that two gay men can't be in the same room without going at it like bunnies."

"I don't think that at all," Noah clarified at once. "I just thought it might be a little uncomfortable, that's all. The bed's kinda small."

"It's big enough," Luke said and added apologetically, "I shouldn't have gone off on you like that. That topic is something of a hot button for me. I'm sorry, Noah."

Noah smiled and said jokingly, "It's okay. You're forgiven as long as you promise not to hog the blanket."

Unfortunately, it turned out that Luke was both a blanket-hogger and a snuggler. Throughout the night, he kept turning to Noah, burying his face against Noah's shoulder and throwing his arm around Noah's chest. Noah tried several times to carefully disengage Luke's limbs from his own but Luke would simply murmur sleepily and tighten his hold. After several sleepless hours, Noah taught himself to ignore his arousal and the tantalizing warmth of Luke's skin. Instead, he lulled himself to slumber by listening to Luke's steady breathing.

He woke up with a raging erection, which was only to be expected as Luke's hand was resting in a spot dangerously near his groin. Groaning with frustration, Noah got out of the bed and went into the next room. He would masturbate away his problem, but there was no bathroom for him to hide in. Among many other things, one of the major drawbacks of this century was the lack of indoor plumbing.

As a stop-gap, he wet a towel with cold water from the basin left by the maid last night. Then he wiped himself down and his erection duly subsided upon contact with the ice-cold towel. He put on his work clothes and was about to leave when Luke appeared at the bedroom door.

"Are you up already? It's still early," Luke said groggily, rubbing his eyes.

"I have a meeting with the Sheriff before I leave for Edwinstowe. I'll be there most of the day but I'll be back tonight. You'll be okay here, right?"

"Yeah, don't worry about me, Noah. I'll help you with those tax collection records. And I promise to lie low and not get in anyone's way."

"Okay, I'll see you tonight then. Go back to bed if you're still sleepy."

"Hmmm," Luke said through a yawn, "I think I'll do just that." He turned and returned to the bedroom.

Noah left his quarters and had not progressed ten paces when he encountered Sir Guy of Gisborne coming towards him. This was unusual; while Sir Guy came every day, he seldom visited this part of the house. There were no other rooms here other than those that Noah used.

"Sir Guy, what are you doing here?"

"I'm told that your friend Luke Snyder is staying here as your guest. I've come to pay you both a visit and to convey my regards. But I see that you're on your way elsewhere. Am I too late to catch you both in residence? Is young Mr. Snyder already up and about as well?"

"I have a meeting with the Sheriff and Luke is still sleeping. This isn't a good time to visit," Noah said curtly. He began walking away, but Sir Guy made no move to follow him.

"Ah, work above all else! How very responsible of you," Sir Guy drawled. "If I had the delectable Luke Snyder warming my bed, I would not leave it so readily. Nor would I let him sleep when there are much better uses for our time."

Exasperated by Sir Guy's nonchalantly offered innuendos, Noah blurted, "Luke and I aren't..." He stopped himself and finished, "It's none of your concern."

Sir Guy's left eyebrow inched upwards. "So, that's how it is. Fascinating. And I beg to differ, Deputy. It's very much my concern to know that Luke Snyder is available for the taking."

"You've said enough, Sir Guy!" Noah said through gritted teeth, ire flashing hot.

"Are you jealous, Noah?" Sir Guy smirked, leaning in very close. He was so tall that Noah experienced the unfamiliar discomfort of having someone towering over him. "It wasn't so long ago when you were the object of my pursuit. But not to worry, Noah. You'll find that my appetite is not so limited. There's room to embrace you both. You need only to ask, and I endeavor to satisfy."

Sir Guy caught hold of Noah's hand, gripping it tight. Noah tried to shake him off but Sir Guy was remarkably strong. It was not until he let go that Noah was able to free himself.

"I'll have none of what you're offering," Noah said shakily. "Leave me alone, Sir Guy. And leave Luke alone."

Sir Guy threw back his head and laughed. "You're admirably decisive, although I think you do protest too much. I'd attempt to prove it to you, but alas, you're late for your meeting, Deputy. It's rude to keep the Sheriff waiting."

Behind them, a small voice spoke up. It was Jane, one of the maids. "Pardon the interruption, Sir Guy. I don't mean to intrude but the Sheriff is asking for you, Deputy."

Noah turned and smiled reassuringly at Jane's apprehensive face. She was obviously somewhat in awe of Sir Guy. "Thank you, Jane. I'm coming now."

Reluctantly, Noah followed Jane towards the main hall. Sir Guy stayed put and saluted Noah in mock farewell. As Noah turned the corner, he could hear Sir Guy still chuckling behind him.

Then Sir Guy called out to Noah, his voice ringing in the hallway. "As for leaving your friend alone, let's ask Luke if that's what he really wants."

***



Continue to Chapter 5