The Lost Ballad of Sherwood Forest - Chapter 3 of 7

[gentleice]

3 Tossed by the Tempest of Time


Leaving Barton Chapel, Noah half-expected to find the 21st century waiting for them outside, waking him up from a strange dream that had lasted three days. But he saw Salamander in the same spot where Luke had left her, and he had to accept that this was really happening. They were still in the past and might remain there indefinitely.

A man in clerical robes was walking towards them. For half a second, Noah wondered if this was the infamous Archdeacon. But then he saw that the robes were too simple and lacked the ornate embellishments associated with senior Church officials.

Luke was already formulating a new theory. "What if those tablets aren't birth records? Maybe it's not that our names aren't there, it's that they aren't there yet." He looked up and saw they were not alone. "That must be the chaplain. I'm going to ask him about this."

As he drew near, the chaplain bowed his head to acknowledge them, but there was no spark of recognition in his eyes. He appeared not to know that Noah was the Deputy Sheriff.

"Good morning, gentlemen. May I be of service to you? We only have an evening Mass service today, but perhaps you're seeking a confessor?"

"No," Luke said, "we were merely admiring the chapel. We're quite new in town, and we've heard that this is the King's favorite place of worship."

"Indeed it is," the chaplain concurred. "The King himself supervised the building of the chapel."

"May I ask what the tablets are, that line the north wall? Are they records of christenings?"

"No, although that is a most novel though. They are the King's honors list."

"Whom do they honor?" Noah asked, gulping down a lump of dread. "The dead?"

The chaplain chuckled, shaking his head. "Nothing so morbid. The tablets honor those who have been of service to the Crown and who have brought glory to the good names of Nottingham and England. The King personally selects those who are named on the list."

"I see," Luke said thoughtfully and Noah could almost hear the wheels turning in his head. "And might we have the privilege of seeing the King at Mass tonight?"

"It will be a few months before we see him here. Edward is in France for the summer. We expect he will come in the fall."

"That's a pity," Luke said and then smiled with charming sincerity. "Thank you for entertaining our questions, Father. We shouldn't detain you from your duties."

After the Chaplain had gone indoors, Luke immediately grabbed Noah by the elbow. In his excitement, he squeezed too hard and Noah squeaked out, "Ouch!"

"Sorry!" Luke apologized. "I'm just really stoked. We're not dead or erased, or whatever doomsday scenario I imagined. We're going to be honored by the King of England!"

"Eventually," Noah added, his pragmatism taking over. "We don't know when that will happen."

"When he gets back from France, that's when," Luke said cheerfully. "We'll do something that gets us on the King's honors list and our names will get carved into tablet thirty-two. And then, we touch the tablet, and we get to go home. We just have to wait out the summer. That's three months, maybe four at a pinch. We can do that."

"How will we survive through three months in this century?" Noah fretted. "The last three days haven't exactly been easy. I don't know really know what I'm doing as the Deputy Sheriff. I think we may lack certain essential skills to be the people we're supposed to be. "

Luke's enthusiasm faded slightly. "Yeah, you have a point there. I'm not sure I can keep up with the Merry Men for a whole summer. Those guys won't shut up about practicing with the sword and bow. Robin's the worst of the lot. I feel like the arty kid at a sports camp."

Salamander neighed gently, greeting a group of people who were walking up to Barton Chapel. Luke immediately pulled his cap down over his forehead and averted his face.

"Let's get out of here," he said beneath his breath. "We can talk about this when we get to Edwinstowe."

***

At Edwinstowe, with the aid of a crudely drawn map provided by the Sheriff, they navigated to a small hut at the edge of the forest. This was the Sheriff's eastern outpost, the headquarters and meeting point for the constables assigned to work in this part of the shire. The building was of humble proportions, comprising a small room furnished with a table and a bench.

"Not exactly the Ritz Carlton, is it?" Noah said jokingly, as they crowded into the small space.

"At least it has a roof. I'd take this any day over sleeping on the ground," Luke groaned. "I hate to sound like a spoiled brat, but this business of camping out in the forest is not my idea of fun."

Noah nodded sympathetically. Sleeping and living outdoors must be hard for Luke, who was accustomed to the comforts of flying first-class.

"If it's any consolation, you're camping out with Robin Hood and the Merry Men," Noah offered.

"There's that," Luke agreed. "Although it's not quite as thrilling as I thought it'd be. And I haven't known him all that long, but Robin is rather different than what I thought he'd be like."

Noah was intrigued by this assertion. "What's he like? Okay, before you answer that, you have to tell me if he looks anything at all like Kevin Costner or Russell Crowe."

Luke laughed and Noah was ridiculously glad that he remembered their conversation from that first meeting in the Blue Boar Inn. Besides, Luke's dimples deepened when he laughed, and Noah decided that he liked the sight of that.

"He looks nothing like either of them. Nor does he look like Errol Flynn. And although I don't know how Douglas Far...," Luke halted, grasping for the name.

"Fairbanks," Noah supplied.

"Thanks. Although I don't know how Douglas Fairbanks looked, I'm sure Robin doesn't resemble him in any way at all." Luke paused and a surprised expression came over his face. "Holy shit, now that I think about it, Robin Hood looks a lot like Tim Randall."

"Who's Tim Randall?"

"He's the reserve member of the Oakdale University chess team. I swear, Robin's a dead ringer for him."

"That's...," Noah struggled to find the right word and finally settled for, "unexpected."

"Oh yeah, you can say that again. In fact, you can pretty much say that about most of the Merry Men. They confound expectations, Robin most of all. Not to speak ill of a legend, but so far, color me unimpressed."

"Robin Hood is unimpressive?"

"God, Noah, I was so excited to meet him and it was such a crushing disappointment! Maybe I was expecting too much because of how he's been built up as a legend. He's just not very charismatic. Worse than that, he's not the brightest bulb in the box."

"Robin Hood is dumb?" Noah was flabbergasted by the very suggestion. "I can't believe that, Luke."

"Okay, to be fair, he's not dumb. Just rather dull and uninspiring. He's certainly not as clever or as witty as the character in the books and ballads."

"You're going to tell me next that Little John is a dwarf!"

"Ha!" Luke exclaimed. "He's not a dwarf but by equal measure, he's not a giant. He's a little taller than you are, but really not any bigger than either of us. For his height, you might even say he's underweight."

"No," Noah protested, "this is too much for my brain to process."

"I know, right? I keep wondering what else the books got wrong! I bet the Sheriff of Nottingham isn't a villain at all. In fact, he's probably a pussycat or something. You've met him, Noah. What's he like?"

"He seems like a good man, and a reasonable one. Nothing at all like the character we read about. He told us not to collect taxes from those who can't afford it right now."

"See? I knew it! The so-called legends of Robin Hood are really romanticized fiction. I'm not ever believing anything I read again! Did you at least meet an evil Bishop, or a greedy butcher?"

"No Bishop, but there's apparently an Archdeacon with evil-sounding plans. The Sheriff warned us to watch out for him."

"Yeah, we heard about him too," Luke said. "He's going to be trouble for us, he and his two dozen foresters."

"You have to be careful, Luke. The chief forester is Sir Guy of Gisborne. He's the Archdeacon's brother and he does sound like he might be as villainous as the character in the legend."

"Now we're talking. That's a bit more like it." Luke appeared quite pleased with this new revelation. "I hope he is a villain. That would be one illusion that isn't shattered. And I want to see what really went... goes...," he broke off, frowning in frustration. "Shit, what's the right tense to use when things have happened in our time, but we're not in our time?"

"I don't know. For our own sanity, maybe we need to think about this as our current time."

"Okay," Luke agreed. "So, as I was saying, I want to see what really goes down between Robin Hood and Sir Guy of Gisborne."

"Be careful, Luke," Noah repeated. "From what I saw of him, Sir Guy looks like a very dangerous person to be messing with."

"You've met him!" Luke's eyes were bright with excitement. "Come on, tell me, what's he like?"

Really attractive, Noah almost said before checking himself. He suspected that a straight guy might be interested in something other than Sir Guy's good looks. It irked him to return to the closet after all the effort to come out of it. But he did not want to cause Luke any discomfort, not when they had to stick together over the next few weeks if they were to return to their own time. While Luke seemed to be the furthest thing from a homophobe, it was by no means a certainty. Sadly, Noah had learned that bitter lesson from experience. Several of his friends, whom he had thought to be completely cool and open-minded, had distanced themselves from him after he came out to them.

"Very tall and rather menacing," he described Sir Guy to Luke. "I can't really put my finger on it, but something about him sets off alarm bells in my head. All the other constables say that he's ruthless and stops at nothing to get what he wants."

"He sounds like a formidable foe for the less than formidable Robin Hood."

"Robin can't be that bad. At the very least, he must be as brave as they say in the ballads."

"I'll grant him that much," Luke conceded begrudgingly. "And he does seem to be an excellent archer. He should be. They all spend far too much time practicing with their bows and arrows. That's one problem I'll have to work out. The Luke Snyder they know is quite the archer, judging from what they say. And I don't even know how to hold a bow, never mind figuring out what to do with the arrow. I've been begging off practice by claiming an injured shoulder. But I don't know how much longer I can keep up that excuse."

"I could help you to practice," Noah suggested. "I haven't studied archery but I do know how to shoot a rifle. Maybe the same principles apply. I'll be here most mornings and we could meet before I have to work, whatever that might entail."

Luke seemed touched by the offer. "Thank you, Noah. That would be such a great help, like having someone spot for me in the gym. And to return the favor, I'll teach you how to ride. Do we have a deal?"

"Deal," Noah said and they shook hands to seal the agreement.

They fell quiet for a moment before Luke exhaled shakily and said, "Would you believe this is how we're spending our summer? We'll be dining out on this story for the rest of our lives. That is, if anyone even believes us."

"They might, if we go missing for three months and suddenly turn up from out of nowhere."

Luke's face clouded with distress. "I hope we go back to the exact same point in time as when we left. I don't want anyone to worry about us and think that we've fallen off the face of the earth. It's bad enough that we'll be missing them while we're here. This is embarrassing to admit, but I usually talk to my parents everyday and it's four days since I last called them."

"It's always tough to be away from family," Noah said sympathetically. On top of missing his parents, Luke must also be missing Maddie, which made his situation all the more unenviable.

"How about you?" Luke asked. "You've never mentioned your family before, other than your Aunt."

"There's just my dad," Noah said and tried to ignore the pang that he could not quite dismiss. "We actually fought just before I came to England. It's complicated." He thought about the last time he spoke with his father and the angry words they had exchanged. And then he realized that it was the first time he had thought about his father since coming here. The experience of being in a different century was proving a matchless diversion.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stir up any unhappy thoughts." Luke's contrite expression then became one of surprise. "We don't know each other that well, do we? I mean, we only met a week ago. Given everything that's happened since then, it feels a lot longer. But we're essentially rather recent acquaintances."

"I guess we have the whole of summer to work on that," Noah said, making Luke smile.

***

After a week of sleeping on the ground, Luke concluded that familiarity bred contempt rather than indifference. He had hoped to get used to it but it was not to be. He hated almost everything about sleeping outside, most of all the lack of a roof over his head. While the other outlaws slept around him, he gazed up at the sky and agonized over each cloud he saw. A downpour would be the unwanted finishing touch to a deeply unpleasant experience.

The next afternoon, a visitor came to Sherwood Forest. Luke was gathering firewood near the camp site when a young woman came into view, strolling through the trees as elegantly as if she was taking a walk in town. She had lively eyes and the fresh-faced prettiness of an English rose. She was well-dressed, but not extravagantly so. When she saw Luke, her face lit up with a delighted smile.

"Luke, you're back in Nottingham! And you look very well."

This had to be Maid Marian, Luke thought. But erring on the side of caution, he omitted her name when returning the compliment, "As do you. It's good to see you again."

She took him by the arm and led him towards the camp. "Come, walk with me, Luke. Later you must tell me all about London Town, but first let me see what Robin and the men have been doing since I last visited."

When they arrived at the camp site, several men were there and they immediately called out, "Marian!"

She gazed around the camp and her mouth hardened into a thin line. "Robin!" she said sharply. "What happened to the shelter?"

Robin shrugged. "It was wrecked during the storms last month."

"Then you should have repaired it! I don't visit for three weeks and this is what happens to the camp? Twenty grown men and you can't even take care of a simple shelter! What will you do if it rains at night while you're sleeping? You'll all catch your deaths out here!"

Luke secretly cheered Marian on. It needed to be said. He had learned early on that he was a junior member of Robin's band and not in the position to dictate how things were managed. Marian, however, appeared to be a person of influence. The men all stood at attention while she spoke.

"Right, all of you, start picking up wood," she took charge. "We'll rebuild the shelter before the sun goes down. You can forgo archery practice for one day. Your bows won't know the difference."

At that very moment, Luke could have kissed her out of sheer gratitude.

The men set to work and soon a rustic but serviceable shelter was erected. It had no walls, but it had a floor raised above the ground and a roof made of tightly woven fronds and reinforced with wood. It could house twenty men if they squeezed in and slept on their sides, which would only happen in the event of rain. Much to Luke's incomprehension, most of the men professed to prefer sleeping on the ground. He did not complain, because it meant he would have more space in the shelter for himself.

When the sun began to descend below the tree line, Marian brushed her hands on her skirt and said, "I have to go before it's too dark to find my way out of the woods. I'll come back again in a few days. My father is away in Yorkshire for the rest of the summer and I'll be able to visit more often now."

The men cheered this announcement and several offered to walk her out of the woods. Luke raised his hand as well, but expected Marian to pick Robin as her escort. To his surprise, she nodded at Luke and held her arm out towards him. Robin scowled at him and he considered refusing Marian but she grabbed his elbow before he could say anything.

He walked her out to the fringe of the woods and took the opportunity to thank her for organizing the shelter. "I can't tell you how grateful I am. Without you, it wouldn't have been done. Robin was disinclined to attempt anything before you came today."

In response, she smiled and shook her head. "Robin's a grown-up boy who needs someone to mother him into taking care of himself."

"Isn't that true of the rest of us who follow Robin?"

"Some of you," she said shrewdly, "but not all. I wouldn't count Friar Tuck among that number. Nor you, Luke Snyder." She smiled and would not be drawn further on the subject.

When Luke returned to camp, he was teased mercilessly by the other men. "So that's why a pretty lad like you is still unattached! You've been waiting for the fair Marian," they said. "Aye, you have a fine eye, Luke. And you've caught the eye of a fine one."

Luke clenched his jaw and bore it as well as he could. The teasing was mostly genial and harmless. But Luke could see that Robin was stewing while trying to look unaffected. A part of him was tempted to shut them all up by telling them that he was gay. In his 21st century life, he usually declared his orientation to the world at large, whether or not the world wanted to know about it. For him, it was an act of defiance and a way of directly confronting the bigots that crossed his path.

And now here he was, stuck in a situation where an open declaration would bring him nothing but trouble. Worst of all, he had to keep the truth from Noah. If they were still in the 21st century, Luke would have told Noah by now. If Noah was uncomfortable with Luke being gay, then they would have parted ways and that would have been the end of it. But here in the 14th century, Luke could not risk alienating Noah. Much of the time, Noah's presence was the only thing keeping him sane.

That night, Luke shared the newly built shelter with Alan-A-Dale and Will Scarlett. They had enough room to roll over several times in all directions. It was definitely a great improvement over sleeping on the ground, but not quite as nice as Noah's cozy hut in Edwinstowe. Luke pictured the small room and imagined Noah sleeping there, with his dark hair tousled and his deliciously long limbs stretched out along the floor. Swallowing hard and scolding himself, Luke put the image out of his mind and tried, unsuccessfully, to sleep.

***

The practice sessions were not going well. Not that they were failing to have fun; that was far from being a problem. Noah could not remember the last time he had enjoyed himself quite this much. He liked being around Luke and the time they spent together in the early morning was the highlight of his day.

The problem was with Luke's archery skills, or the complete lack thereof. On a good day, he missed the target by two feet. On average, he missed by two yards.

"Ugh!" Luke groaned as he released yet another errant arrow. "This is going nowhere and I'm running out of time. Robin's getting suspicious and Little John said he's never heard of an injured shoulder which didn't recover within a month."

"You'll get there," Noah encouraged him. "You just have to keep working at it. If I can learn to ride a horse, you can learn to shoot an arrow."

"Sally's more cooperative than this damn bow," Luke complained. "I think we need a new approach, Noah. The way we're doing it right now isn't working. I've been doing some thinking."

"Luke, what do you have in mind?" Noah was a little worried by the expression on Luke's face.

"We need something else for me to aim at. That mark on the tree isn't doing it for me. I think maybe we should try something more specific, like an apple. Are you familiar with the legend of William Tell?"

Noah gulped and said nervously, "Luke, I like you a lot, but not so much that I'm putting an apple on my head for you to shoot at." He reviewed that statement and added, "And that's something I never thought I'd ever say in my life."

They both burst out laughing at this. By the time Luke's giggling fit passed, his frustration had abated.

"I need a break from practicing," he said, putting down the bow. "Tell me about your work. Have you had any run-ins with the Archdeacon or any of the foresters?"

"Not yet. We're all keeping a low profile and it seems to be working for now. Have you run into any of them in the forest?"

"I haven't, but Marian mentioned meeting several of them when she was came the last time. They tried to follow her but she took a long detour and led them on a wild goose chase. She's a smart cookie, is Marian."

"What's her story?" Noah asked. "Is she involved with Robin, like in the ballads?"

"Some parts of the legend are accurate. She's Robins friend from Locksley and they grew up together. She says she helps him because she can and he needs her help. As for the other thing, I don't know what the hell is going on between them. I think Robin carries a torch for her, but she doesn't seem that interested." Luke squirmed and looked discomfited.

Picking up on it, Noah asked, "What's wrong, Luke?"

Luke fidgeted with a piece of grass, shredding it to pieces. "I don't even want to say this, because I hope it isn't true. But I think Maid Marian has a thing for Luke Snyder."

"She has a thing for you?"

"Not me!" Luke corrected hastily. "The Luke Snyder of this century. She's always flirting with him."

"With you," Noah pointed out. "You are the Luke Snyder of this century, at least right now and for the next few weeks. So Maid Marian's flirting with you."

"Yeah," Luke conceded with reluctance. "And to be honest, I don't much like it."

To be honest, Noah did not much like it either. It was ludicrous, but he was rather jealous of Maid Marian.

"Is this causing problems between you and Robin?"

"Unfortunately, it is. He hasn't confronted me outright yet. For now, he just looks at me like he wants to strangle me. I expect him any day to challenge me to an archery duel. And we all know how that's going to end."

His shoulders slumping in desolation, Luke picked up his bow and nocked an arrow to the string. He released the arrow, sending it so far off target that it hit the branches of a tree several yards away. A flock of birds flew up into the sky, squawking indignantly.

Noah sat up, struck by a sudden thought. He watched the birds as the idea took form in his mind.

"Luke!" he said excitedly. "You're good at Angry Birds, right?"

Luke glared at him and huffed, "Noah, now is not the time to mention the conveniences of 21st century technology. Not when I'm dealing with this primitive piece of wood!" He then directed his glare at the bow in his hand.

"No, Luke, listen to me. I'm talking about archery. We've been going about this all wrong. You've been trying to aim for that target the way I'd aim a rifle. But they aren't the same thing. Arrows don't travel in a straight line. Their trajectory is an arc."

Luke considered this and nodded. "Okay, I'm with you so far. Where's this leading?"

"You need to picture it in your mind. How the arrow would move through the air, not in a straight line but in an arc. You need to aim not directly at the target, but at the angle you need to hit the target. Don't you see, Luke? It's basically a game of Angry Birds."

The wonder dawning on Luke's face was a sight to behold. "Oh my God, Noah! You're right! It's all physics. The right angle and the right tension."

Luke shot another arrow, holding his shoulder straighter than he had before. This one sailed in the desired direction but landed on the grass, just shy of the tree where the target was located. He tried again and the arrow hit the tree, six inches off the target. The next few arrows were similarly a few inches short. On his eight attempt, Luke landed the arrow on the inside edge of the target.

He whooped with joy and turned to look at Noah, his face wreathed with a dazzling, jubilant smile. "Did you see that, Noah?"

"You did it, Luke!"

"No, this one is all on you, Noah! God, you're a genius!" Luke said and his smile grew even wider.

It was everything that Noah could do not to grab Luke right then and just kiss the life out of him. He restrained himself by clenching his fists and averting his eyes.

***

When possible, Noah spent his nights at Edwinstowe. He preferred it there because it meant he could meet with Luke the next morning for one of their practice sessions. But two nights a week, he was obliged to be in Nottingham Town and those nights he slept at the Sheriff's house. He appreciated that it was more comfortable there; he had a large bed there rather than the hard floor of the hut. And he could avail himself of the Sheriff's pantry, which immeasurably improved the quality of his meals.

Tonight, he was dining with the Sheriff and a few invited guests, among them the Archdeacon and his brother Guy of Gisborne. Although Noah had been formally introduced to them a few weeks ago, he had never spent much time in their company before this. When he was at the Sheriff's house, he did his best to avoid Sir Guy who was a constant fixture there, according to the cook. "He comes so often, he must fancy one of the scullery maids," she told Noah more than once.

Noah spent most of tonight's dinner marveling at the Archdeacon's appetite. Already a man of corpulent proportions, he ate as if he intended to double his waistline. It was hard to believe that this man was related to the lean and lanky Sir Guy of Gisborne.

Sir Guy winked several times at Noah during the first course, which Noah found unsettling but did his best to ignore. He had learned by now that Sir Guy flirted with anything that moved, and quite a few inanimate objects as well. Before the end of the first course, Sir Guy excused himself from the table and never returned.

While Noah was walking back to his room, he heard screaming from the servants' quarters. He hurried towards the sound, tracing it to a corner room. The screaming was getting louder and now that Noah was close enough, he could tell that it was a man making that noise. Without knocking, he opened the door and was stopped dead in his tracks.

Thomas, the Sheriff's valet, was bent over the side of the bed, bare as the day that he was born. His face was buried into the mattress, which muffled his screaming somewhat but not altogether. Behind him, equally naked, was Sir Guy of Gisborne. His eyes were half-closed and he was moving his hips against Thomas's buttocks in a hard, driving rhythm.

Fuck, Noah thought. He did a mental double take. Fuck. Exactly.

Riveted by the sight, Noah was unable to look away although he knew he should. He watched as Sir Guy tightened his hold on Thomas's hips and the screaming turned to a soft moaning. Then Sir Guy turned his head and his eyes met Noah's. He held Noah's gaze and raised his right eyebrow. Without interrupting the thrusting of his hips, he raised one hand from the valet's hip and blew Noah a kiss.

Noah closed the door and fled back to his room.

***

A knock sounded on Noah's door. He wondered who it was, coming to his quarters at such a late hour. Thinking it might be the Sheriff seeking him out because of an emergency, he opened his door without first asking who was behind it.

Sir Guy stood at the doorway, grinning lazily like a cat who had just swallowed a pitcher of cream. Without pausing for permission, he swept into the room and planted himself on a chair. Noah remained standing, frowning to convey to Sir Guy that his presence was not welcome.

"What are you doing here, Sir Guy?"

"I wished to speak with you," Sir Guy answered, sounding far too pleased with himself. "You witnessed something earlier tonight and I believe we should discuss it."

"There's nothing to discuss. It's between Thomas and you, and it's your personal affair. It has nothing to do with me."

"You're not as uninterested as you pretend, Deputy." Sir Guy smirked. He was one of those arrogant bastards who could smirk attractively and knew it.

Noah was unmoved. "You overestimate your ability to read my mind, Sir Guy."

Sir Guy's upper lip curled into a smile. "The boy has some fight in him, I see. So you're more than just a handsome face, Deputy. I like that. May I address you as Noah? Since you've seen me in such an...," he paused and lowered his voice to a purr, "intimate state, surely we are beyond the formality of titles."

He stood up and stalked towards Noah, his eyes glinting in the dimly lit room. Noah backed into a wall, both mesmerized and horrified by the expression on Sir Guy's face; a confusing hybrid of menacing intent and hypnotic persuasion. The functioning cells in his brain screamed at him to resist this seduction. There was no mistaking that this was indeed a seduction, as Sir Guy drew ever nearer and spoke in a low, husky rumble.

"I saw you watching us, Noah. And I saw the way you were watching us. If you were not one of us, the sight would have disgusted you. But you are one of us, aren't you? You know the pleasures to be had with another man. And you want it, don't you? To feel all that skin and muscle, to touch all that hardness with your hands, to taste it on your tongue. It's a wonderful thing, isn't it, to have a man's cock in your mouth?"

As he asked that last rhetorical question, he moved his hip and raised his knee so that it very deliberately caressed Noah's groin. Too flustered to respond with words, Noah tried to sidle away but was foiled by Sir Guy's tongue flickering on his earlobe. First he shivered involuntarily at the touch, and then he froze when Sir Guy moved his mouth across Noah's cheek and stopped, hovering half an inch away from Noah's mouth. He stuck out his tongue and licked Noah's lower lip.

Noah shivered again despite himself. For some reason, his brain had turned to mush and his limbs were struck by temporary paralysis. A voice in his head urged him to push Sir Guy away, but he was powerless to move. He stood motionless as Sir Guy's mouth touched his, brushing their lips together. The contact was too brief to be a kiss but firm enough to communicate Sir Guy's desire for much more than just a kiss.

Sir Guy withdrew his mouth, replacing it with his forefinger. He traced the line of Noah's lips, moving across to his jaw and continuing down his throat. When he reached Noah's Adam Apple, he circled it and pressed down lightly on it. Noah jerked his head back. Once again, he summoned his legs and arms to move, but they remained stubbornly leaden.

"You shouldn't fight what you so obviously want," Sir Guy said, his finger now trailing down to Noah's collarbone. "The pleasures of the flesh are not meant to be denied. Your body ails if it doesn't have what it craves."

Sir Guy's hand was now on Noah's chest. Looking down, Noah saw that the top button of his shirt was unbuttoned and Sir Guy was already working on the second button. Strength flooded back into his limbs and he pushed Sir Guy away from him and stumbled to the other end of the room, putting as much distance as he could between them.

"You've overstayed your welcome, Sir Guy. I request that you leave at once," he said as coldly as he could, although to his dismay, he could hear the trembling in his voice.

"I don't believe that's what you truly want." Sir Guy was cool as a cucumber and once more began advancing on Noah.

"Stand back," Noah commanded and straightened his spine. "I asked you to leave and I meant it. I hope we can settle this as gentlemen would. We shouldn't trouble the Sheriff to resolve a dispute under his own roof."

Sir Guy's face hardened before he smirked again. It was astounding that such a handsome man could look so ugly, but in that fleeting moment, his face was disfigured by unsuppressed rage.

"I'm not accustomed to being thwarted, my pretty young Deputy," he said, his usual casual arrogance back in full force. "But I suspect that I'm not yet thwarted, just... delayed. We'll revisit this discussion at more opportune juncture. I hope to see you at breakfast tomorrow. For now, I bid you farewell and good night."

He bowed and bestowed another one of his seductive, hood-lidded smiles on Noah. Then he left the room without waiting for Noah's reply.

Noah bolted the door and went to bed, his heart still thumping uneasily.

***

Noah left for Edwinstowe early the next morning, before the sun had risen. He had spent a restless night after Sir Guy's uninvited visit and was still unsettled by the experience. He wanted very badly to see Luke, who was his anchor to sanity and his real life back in the 21st century, where there were no charismatic bastards trying to seduce him an hour after bonking the valet downstairs. Of course, he could not tell Luke about his encounter with Sir Guy. Telling Luke would mean either outright lying or coming clean about being gay. He was prepared to do neither and therefore he would keep the incident to himself.

Against his will, his mind played back the scene in his room last night. He was appalled at how close he had come to letting Sir Guy have his way. In those few minutes, Sir Guy had held him in thrall and he could not explain it. Perhaps it was something to do with pheromones, triggering a physical reaction that defied logic or analysis. It even defied emotion because he certainly felt nothing for Sir Guy beyond distrust and a growing dislike.

He rode at a fast pace, much faster than anything he had attempted before. With Luke's tutelage, he had overcome his initial trepidation and quickly become quite comfortable on Salamander's back. But he had always ridden at no more than a steady trot, afraid of losing balance. Today, he threw caution to the wind and Salamander fairly galloped the miles across Nottingham to the eastern end of the shire.

When he arrived at the post in Edwinstowe, he sat outside and waited for Luke. Then he wondered what he was doing here. He had no standing appointment with Luke this morning, and Luke may very likely not come at all. Worse than that, he was becoming far too attached to Luke and no good could come from that.

He had run from Sir Guy, someone who definitely wanted him, if only for a purely physical fling. Judging from the sounds that Thomas had made, a fling with Guy of Gisborne would be a very satisfactory experience. He had run here to Luke, someone who was by now a dear friend and who could be nothing more than that. A dalliance with Sir Guy would cost him little beyond a slight loss of self-dignity; he did not much care for sex without intimacy but he understood the allure of it. With Luke, he was risking much more; he was setting himself up for heartache by falling for someone who was unattainable.

He stood up and headed for the door to the hut. It may be wise for him to spend less time here when he was not working. After all, Luke's archery skills had improved by leaps and bounds. These practice sessions no longer served any real purpose.

"Noah!" Luke's voice called out behind him.

He turned and saw Luke running up the path towards him.

"I didn't think I'd see you this morning," Luke said breathlessly. "I came on the off chance that you'd be here, but I wasn't expecting it."

"Is something wrong?"

"No! Far from it," Luke assured him. He laughed, giddy with excitement. "Yesterday, I joined the band for their archery session. I told them my shoulder was finally recovered but that I was probably too rusty. Guess what? I beat Little John in a head-to-head contest! Left him eating my dust. All thanks to your Angry Birds brainwave. I'm so glad you came this morning because I was dying to tell you about it."

Luke's smile took up all of his face, and he looked so pleased to see Noah.

And Noah was glad that he came after all.

***



Continue to Chapter 4