Chapter 5


Lady Jennifer screamed at the Sheriff, holding her young daughter Molly behind her skirts for protection from the men who had suddenly invaded their home.

“Please don’t take him from me!” she pleaded.  The Sheriff of Nottingham had bodily picked up the young Lord, who was now unconscious and carried him down the stairs from his rooms.  He threw Justin over the saddle of his horse and climbed up behind him.

“Madam”, he said.  “Tell the leader of the men who have been robbing me blind that I shall be waiting for him.  In the meanwhile, Justin can amuse me”.  The Sheriff pulled his horse’s head around and he and his men galloped back to Nottingham Castle.  Upon arrival, he passed the still form of his prisoner over to the servants who were waiting.  “Take him to my chambers” he commanded, “and prepare him”.

Doing as instructed, Justin was carried to the Sheriff’s rooms and laid upon the bed.  Tenderly, two elderly women servants undressed him and then washed him.  He was not the first young man to be brought here for the Sheriff’s pleasure.

Brian’s plans for that evening had been thrown into disarray.  Just as he was setting out to meet with Justin, he’d received word that a shipment of gold was due to be delivered to the Sheriff.  He and his men had set a trap.  But their wait was in vain.  The shipment never arrived. 

Reaching St. James’ Castle much later than he had intended, Brian found Lady Jennifer sobbing.  “He’s taken him.  He’s taken my son”, she cried.  “Who?” asked Brian frantically.  “The Sheriff” said Jennifer.  “But it’s you he wants and said he will be waiting for you”.

Brian was mortified.  “Do not worry”, he said.  “No harm will come to him, I promise”, and he ran back to the horse tethered in the courtyard, desperate to get to Nottingham Castle as quickly as he could.

Lady Jennifer watched him go.  Turning to a terrified servant, she said “boy, go quickly into the forest and fetch help.  Tell Sir Brian’s men what has happened, for he will be no match for the Sheriff’s army on his own”, and the lad ran into the night in search of assistance.

With his horse at full tilt, Brian galloped recklessly towards Nottingham Castle.  He had no time to form a plan and could only rely on his instincts and prayed he would be in time to save Justin from the Sheriff.

He dare not dwell on what his young lover might be suffering.  All Brian could think of was the young man who had given of himself so freely and the promise he’d made to Justin’s Father on his deathbed:  How he’d promised to protect him.  He would not be able to live with himself if he failed him.

Now inside his rooms, the Sheriff reached for the wine flagon and swallowed down a large quantity of the dark liquid. The object of his desire was in his bed at last.  The guards would alert him when his visitor arrived.  He could take his time.  

After consuming the alcohol, the Sheriff mounted the few stairs to his bedchamber.  He walked across the room to the bed and gazed down at the young man.  Justin, still unconscious, had been laid on his back, his arms folded over his chest.  He looked so peaceful, so very beautiful.

Slowly, the Sheriff removed his cloak and sword and climbed upon the bed so that he was straddling the naked form.  He stroked Justin’s face and hair.  Then he took him by the wrists and pushed Justin’s arms up over his head.  Justin began to stir and opened his eyes.  Gradually, as his head began to clear, he realised who it was holding him down and tried to struggle.  But the man was too heavy and Justin could not push him away.

The Sheriff bent forward for a kiss, but Justin managed to turn his head.  Releasing one of his wrists, he took Justin by the chin and forced him to face him.  He roughly pressed his mouth on to Justin’s, but after a few moments sat bolt upright, yelping in pain, wiping the blood from his mouth that had been drawn with a bite.

With venom, the Sheriff slapped Justin hard across the face.  “You will pay for that” he spat.  Still weak, Justin was unable to resist and was rolled over on to his belly.  With one hand on the back of his head, he was held down as the Sheriff unbuttoned his breeches.

Pulling Justin’s head up by his hair, the Sheriff forced himself inside.  Justin cried out in distress, a red mist filling his mind from the hard thrusts of the man on top of him.  Try as he might, Justin could not hold in the tears which now streamed down his face from the agony being inflicted on him so easily.  His face was pushed into the pillows as the Sheriff’s thrusts grew faster and more violent, becoming too much to bear.

Justin could barely breathe and from the lack of oxygen, and the lasting effects of the drug, thankfully, he lost consciousness once more.

The Sheriff continued until finally he reached orgasm and withdrew.  Panting heavily, he buttoned up his breeches but remained sitting astride Justin, waiting for his breathing to return to normal.

With the blood still pounding in his ears, he failed to hear the door open behind him or detect the man walking stealthily across the floor.  And only became aware of his presence when the steel blade of the sword was pressed against his neck.

“Move away from him”, said Brian quietly.

Slowly, the Sheriff moved backwards on the bed until he was able to place his feet on the floor and stand up.  He turned to face the hooded man, who was now holding the sword at his throat.

“How did you get passed the guards?”  asked the Sheriff.  

“You call those men guards?  They are a drunken rabble.  It was not difficult to slip passed them” answered Brian.

He moved alongside the bed so that he could see Justin more clearly and was thankful to find that his lover was still alive.

“Who are you?”  the Sheriff asked.

“My name is Brian Loxley, Earl of Huntingdon” replied Brian, lowering the hood.

“Loxley?” said the Sheriff.  “Yes, of course.  Your Father was a very foolish man.  He stood against me, so I had to teach him a lesson – at the end of a rope” he gloated.

Brian stiffened in anger.  Suddenly, Justin moaned softly and, for a split second, his attention was diverted away from the Sheriff, who seeing his chance, moved swiftly towards him, catching Brian with a glancing blow on the shoulder as he tried to move out of the man’s reach.

Brian stumbled backwards, but regained his footing.  He now stood in the middle of the room, his sword still trained on the other man.  The Sheriff smiled.  “Will you not allow me at least the courtesy of a fair fight?  As you can see, I am unarmed” he said.

For a few moments, the two men faced each other.  Brian then motioned to the Sheriff to retrieve his sword, which he’d discarded earlier, walking backwards as he did so, in order to maintain the same distance between them.

The Sheriff bent to pick up his weapon. However, he did not share Brian’s good breeding and instead of acknowledging the civility that had been accorded him as was customary, he immediately charged towards Brian, but Brian parried him.  They moved around the room exchanging blows, each man striving to anticipate the other’s action.

They were well matched: each countering the other man’s swordplay.  The Sheriff was becoming angry that he could not overcome Brian and was determined to somehow bring him to his knees.  Feigning a thrust to his left, he suddenly moved to the right, but Brian managed to hold him off.  The Sheriff stepped in close to Brian and caught him in the chest with his forearm.  Brian went tumbling backwards, but he held on to the Sheriff’s tunic and the two of them rolled on the floor together.  

The Sheriff was winded, but Brian recovered quickly.  On his feet in an instance, he now stood over the older man, his sword at the Sheriff’s throat.

The room was silent, save for the men’s hard breathing.  Sir Brian and the Sheriff of Nottingham looked each other in the eyes.  The Sheriff knew that by rights he should now be dead and could not understand the other man’s hesitation.  Brian was sweating and he began to shake.  ‘How many more men will I have to kill?’ he wondered.

The Sheriff began to smile.  He reached up and slowly pushed Brian’s sword away from his throat.  Brian stood back, releasing him.  “You don’t have the stomach, do you?” gloated the Sheriff, rising to his feet.

Brian was breathing hard and his blood pounded in his ears.  He shook his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts and for just a moment, closed his eyes.  From the bed, Justin stirred, crying out in fear and confusion, bringing Brian suddenly to his senses.  But it was too late.  In that instance, the Sheriff was upon him.  He grabbed Brian’s arm holding his sword and the two of them were locked together.  

Memories of other encounters such as this came flooding back to Brian.  Many a time he’d fought in close combat, face to face, hand to hand, with other enemies.  Brian staggered backwards under the weight of the larger man and fell against the windowsill.  Hitting Brian’s arm against the wall, the sword fell from his hand.  The Sheriff was the heavier and Brian found himself shoved backwards over the edge, the other man intent on pushing him over.

Using all the strength he could muster, Brian forced him back.  The Sheriff was raging and with a growl, which came from deep within him, he lunged at Brian for one last time.  As the man hurtled towards him, Brian moved quickly sideways, catching him in the ribs and shoving him upwards in one motion.  Before he could stop himself, the Sheriff found he was falling through the opening and, with arms flailing, fell to his death on to the cobbles below.

Brian sat on the floor under the window trying to recover his senses.  He could hear the sounds of horses and shouting coming from below.  He knew he had to get Justin away from there as speedily as he could.

Getting to his feet, he recovered his sword and moved swiftly to the bed.  Justin was curled tightly into a ball.  He was shaking.  Brian sat down beside him and gently placed a hand on his shoulder.  Justin shuddered and cried out in fear at the sudden touch.  “It’s me”, Brian whispered.  “You’re safe now”.

Quickly, Brian wrapped Justin in the bedcovers and, gathering him in his arms, carried him down the stairs, where he found John and the Men of Sherwood holding back the Sheriff’s army.  The Sheriff’s death had left his men confused and powerless, and without a leader, were no match for Brian’s men.

John helped Brian place Justin upon his horse and Brian climbed up behind him.  The young man was shaking and in the dawn’s light, Brian could see the tearstains on his face, bruised from the Sheriff’s treatment of him.  ‘How could I let this happen?’ he asked himself.  

Lady Jennifer ran to meet them as they returned to St. James’ Castle.  Brian gently handed Justin down into John’s arms, but did not dismount from his horse.

Justin’s Mother looked up at him accusingly.

“John”, she said.  “Please take my son up to his rooms so that I might tend to him”.  She looked at Brian.  “Sir”, she said.  “You are not welcome in my home”.  

Slowly, Brian turned his horse around and rode away.


To be continued……