Lady Locksley

Chapter 36

Breaking Out

Guy of Gisborne was disappointed. In fact, he was downright furious, and mainly at himself. He had been lied to and betrayed by Allan A Dale, a common thief and outlaw, and a man who couldn't tell the truth if his life depended on it. If that wasn't bad enough, Guy, who generally kept people at arms length, had been completely taken in by Allan's duplicitous nature, and had actually begun to trust and even like the outlaw, which made his disappointment and shame all the more soul destroying.
Bringing the outlaw into the castle as a valued member of his team had made Gisborne look like a fool in front of the Sheriff, and this was something he could not forgive. His relationship with Vaisey was on rocky ground as it was after the revelation that Bridlington was angling for Locksley and Huntingdon, and Gisborne needed to be in his good books if he had any hope of securing land and a title of his own. Allan may very well have effectively ruined that.
Pausing at the entrance to the dungeons, Guy gathered himself, attempting to curb his anger. His traitorous ex-man was now languishing in a cell with his outlaw sidekick, and was due to hang the following day. Although he would never admit it, there was a small part of Guy that felt a degree of remorse at the severe consequences. But then, Allan had tricked them all, and he deserved to be punished for his deceit.
Wrenching open the door, Gisborne descended the steps into the dungeons, allowing his expression to settle into a disgusted sneer. He detested having to spend time in the depths of the castle, where it reeked of sweat and despair. His visit would be quick, just long enough to let Allan know exactly what he thought of him.
Sure enough, the outlaws were in a cell together, and didn't appear to be suffering nearly enough. Their time would come, Gisborne thought, darkly, as he strode up to the heavy, latticed gate that enclosed the prisoners within the oubliette. Spotting him, Allan had the grace to look guilty, and approached the gate warily.
"Gis." He shrugged. "What can I say? Sorry."
Guy glared at him. "It is SIR GUY to you, scum," he roared. "And sorry just doesn't cut it. You betrayed me."
"I'm not being funny but you tortured me into betraying my friends," Allan replied, defensively.
"Which you clearly didn't do," Gisborne snarled.
Allan shrugged again. "No, I didn't. Because they are my friends."
"Then why did you even come here, asking for work?" Guy snapped, feeling inordinately hurt. "You didn't need to. You could have just taken my coin and thought nothing more of it. But you chose to work for me. Why?"
Allan looked at him and spoke candidly. "Roana. I only came here for her. I'm sorry, Gis, but what did you expect? I would never choose to work for the Sheriff if I didn't have to. He killed my brother!" A look of fury and sorrow crossed Allan's face briefly, before his features settled into their usual indifferent expression. "I came here to protect Roana. You know how I feel about her. That was never a lie. But I am sorry for the rest of it, Gis. You need to get away from the Sheriff cos you deserve better."
Apoplectic with rage, Gisborne struck the gate with his fist and took great pleasure in Allan's reaction as the outlaw jumped back, out of reach. Shaking his head, Guy stormed away, taking the steps two at a time in his rush to get out of the dungeons before he did something he would regret.
Preoccupied with his thoughts, he slammed the door open with such force that the person on the other side went flying in a whirl of skirts. A tray and various pieces of food flew into the air and scattered across the ground before him, beside a slight girl with cascading red hair, cowering on the floor. A wooden flagon rolled across the floor towards him, spilling water onto the stone floor. Guy stopped it with his foot and picked it up, then approached the fallen girl.
"I do apologise, miss." He reached down to help her up, feeling remorse for the second time that day. She looked up at him, fearful, her hair falling around her small, heart-shaped face in waves.
Guy hesitated, suddenly captivated. She was dressed in typical servant attire, but he didn't recall having seen her in the castle before. He would remember hair of that colour, and such wide, soft-brown eyes.
Looking away from him, she scrabbled around on the floor until she found her wimple, which she smoothed back onto her head, concealing the flame of her hair. Then, she looked up and accepted his hand, shyly.
It was Roana's maid, Guy realised. Alice. He had never observed her with her hair uncovered, and had never taken the time to examine her pretty face and petite figure.
"Thank you, my lord." Her voice was little more than a whisper, and she curtsied before bobbing down to pick up her tray.
Gisborne knelt down to help, attempting to glimpse her face again as he did so, but she kept her head lowered, refusing to catch his eye.
"Is this for the prisoners?" He asked, attempting to draw her into conversation, but she stayed silent, nodding once. He could see that he would have to work a little harder.
"You have lovely hair," he said, awkwardly, handing her a bread roll.
There was a pause as she accepted it and arranged everything neatly on the tray before she replied.
"Thank you, my Lord," she said again, but he saw the ghost of a smile on her lips, and her eyes met his, briefly, before she looked away.
Walking away after holding the dungeon door open for her and watching her slender figure disappear down the steps, Guy felt a touch better.

******

There had been a number of occasions in recent days when Allan had imagined his escape from the castle with Roana. He'd have fought off the guards and Bridlington, been hailed a hero by his fellow outlaws, and ended up with the beautiful girl by his side. But life never panned out so easily for people like him. Robin, maybe - he always came out on top. But it was standard for people like Allan to suffer some kind of injustice first. A spell in the dungeons seemed apt, and he wouldn't mind if that was the extent of it. But, no. The Sheriff had to blow it out of all proportion. Allan had known his time in the castle was coming to an end, but he hadn't quite envisioned going out on the end of a rope. He didn't want to die just yet; there was so much to live for.
They needed a plan. Or a miracle. One that involved getting him and Will out of this cell so he could rescue Roana. He needed to save her from Bridlington.
Turning away from the gate as Gisborne left, Allan ran his hand through his chestnut hair and sighed. He was worried about Roana. She was on her own up there and he couldn't get to her, which was driving him crazy. As well as that, he couldn't help but feel a touch of guilt when he thought of Gisborne. The knight didn't have any friends, and Allan had probably been the closest thing he had had to a confidante. Still, if he didn't carry out the Sheriff's bidding with such relish, he'd be a lot more likeable, and then he'd have friends. So, maybe it was his own fault.
Allan glanced at Will, who was staring at him with raised eyebrows.
"What?" Allan said, defensively.
"Since when have you and Gisborne been best mates?" Will said, suspiciously.
"We're not best mates," Allan replied, scornfully. "But Gisborne— well, he's alright, y'know?"
Will rolled his eyes. "I'll take your word for it." He looked suddenly curious. "But what about Roana, the stuff you said? Is that true?"
Preoccupied, Allan answered without thinking. "'Course it is. I love her."
They were both startled at the revelation, and Allan quickly changed the subject, moving to examine the gate.
"Can we break out of this?"
Will crossed to the door and examined the hinges closely. He prodded at them, then knelt down to inspect the keyhole.
"The workmanship is shoddy. I could easily pick the lock, or even remove the hinges, but I'd need tools of some kind." He glanced around the tiny, empty cell. "Except, we've got nothing."
Allan looked around the oubliette too. Nothing but stone and dirt, and shackles on the walls, which he was thankful they hadn't been secured to. Will followed his gaze and moved over to pick up a shackle, weighing it in his hand. He then pulled it to the end of its chain and yanked it hard. There was a pattering sound as the wall it was attached to crumbled slightly.
Will and Allan exchanged exhilarated glances and Allan crossed over to help, then immediately darted back to the gate as light footsteps heralded a new arrival. Will placed the shackle back against the wall gently, and turned to the gate.
"Alice," Allan said in relief as the maid came into view. "Is Roana alright?"
Alice nodded, her face pinched with worry as she opened the small hatch in the door. "She's fine, but under heavy guard. They won't let her leave her room." She passed a flagon through the hatch. "Here's some water, and some food. Sorry I couldn't get more, but the Sheriff didn't want to feed you at all. Sir Guy convinced him to let you have something." She caught Allan's eye as he took the bread from her. "Lady Roana said to tell you that she's thinking of you."
Allan's heart lit up at this and he almost missed the message Alice was trying to convey, and the nudge of metal in his hand as she attempted to pass him something extra. Holding her gaze, he closed his hand around the object and winked at her.
"Thanks, Alice. Tell her I'll see her soon."
Alice nodded and smiled, briefly, and then she was gone, hurrying away. Allan turned to Will and grinned as he opened his hand to show him the hairpin resting on his palm.