that now they were fighting side by side, they couldn't be happier.
Most residents had been left gloomy and miserable by the events, though - Jack, for one, who even now stewed about Adele and how he'd fallen for her. How he'd betrayed their whereabouts because he thought Adele would harm Mary.
Tate, too, had found it a struggle at times - having lost the place he had once called his home, and finding himself estranged from the person he'd failed so miserably to protect not just once, but twice. Gwen, who'd been the Sheriff's plaything once upon a time, snatched from the village named Hope after her partner Clive had been brutally murdered. Who'd returned to the village after the birth of her son at the castle - Clive Jr, who she still maintained was fathered by his namesake, but as he grew bore more and more of a resemblance to a certain Frenchman they'd all known. Gwen, who'd said she never wanted anything more to do with Tate again. His own fault, assuming he knew what was best for her, sending for her because he'd thought she'd be safer at the castle, then putting her in even more danger. When he'd found out that she'd almost been assaulted by Jace, one of De Falaise's former soldiers, Tate could scarcely forgive himself. So why should Gwen? The castle held many terrifying memories for her, and they all must have come rushing back when that thug-
The man was dead now, killed either by Gwen or someone else, they hadn't been able to determine which. The woman was certainly capable. She'd gone after the Mexican, Major Javier, the man who'd shot Clive, finishing him off during the very first fight for Nottingham Castle. But Tate had a strange feeling she'd had help this time. Gwen had also become even harder, if that was the right word, in the time since all this happened. For the most part she'd hidden herself away in New Hope - turning the place into a veritable fortress, its inhabitants into soldiers.
Tate had only seen her once since the Tsar's men had invaded, a few months ago when they'd held the Winter Festival at the castle - an attempt to put a smile back on the faces, not only of the people who lived here, but also those in the outlying regions. Gwen had come only because some of her own villagers had heard about it. The Festival itself - with live music from Dale - had been a roaring success. But it had been the inroads Tate had made with Gwen that proved the most successful from his point of view.
At first she still hadn't wanted to know. In fact Tate thought, when he approached she might just walk off, turn her back like she had when he'd tried to visit New Hope. But something about that time of year, about Christmas, about peace to all men and forgiveness, must have touched her heart. It was the Lord working His magic again he suspected. No, more than suspected, believed completely. For the fact that she'd spoken to him at all must surely have been some kind of miracle.
They'd left it open, with the possibility of talking again at some point; the friendship at least thawing a little. She no longer sounded like she wanted to rip out his throat, anyway. Tate had planned to visit New Hope again soon after and see how the land lay, but up till now things had been so busy at the castle. He'd resolved to definitely go there within the next couple of weeks, though, as spring took hold, because there wouldn't ever be a perfect time. He didn't want to waste the opportunity he'd been given back in December. Instead of rebuilding the castle, he had to now rebuild a few bridges.
He'd talk to Robert when he returned, ask for an escort. Once he'd resolved to do it, he found he was actually looking forward to seeing Gwen again. To talking with her, and maybe, just maybe, persuading her to abandon the path of hatred and anger she was currently on.
To return her to the fold of Christ, where she might actually find tranquillity again.
"Jesus H. fucking Christ!"
Gwen ducked back down as the bullet ricocheted off the
Most residents had been left gloomy and miserable by the events, though - Jack, for one, who even now stewed about Adele and how he'd fallen for her. How he'd betrayed their whereabouts because he thought Adele would harm Mary.
Tate, too, had found it a struggle at times - having lost the place he had once called his home, and finding himself estranged from the person he'd failed so miserably to protect not just once, but twice. Gwen, who'd been the Sheriff's plaything once upon a time, snatched from the village named Hope after her partner Clive had been brutally murdered. Who'd returned to the village after the birth of her son at the castle - Clive Jr, who she still maintained was fathered by his namesake, but as he grew bore more and more of a resemblance to a certain Frenchman they'd all known. Gwen, who'd said she never wanted anything more to do with Tate again. His own fault, assuming he knew what was best for her, sending for her because he'd thought she'd be safer at the castle, then putting her in even more danger. When he'd found out that she'd almost been assaulted by Jace, one of De Falaise's former soldiers, Tate could scarcely forgive himself. So why should Gwen? The castle held many terrifying memories for her, and they all must have come rushing back when that thug-
The man was dead now, killed either by Gwen or someone else, they hadn't been able to determine which. The woman was certainly capable. She'd gone after the Mexican, Major Javier, the man who'd shot Clive, finishing him off during the very first fight for Nottingham Castle. But Tate had a strange feeling she'd had help this time. Gwen had also become even harder, if that was the right word, in the time since all this happened. For the most part she'd hidden herself away in New Hope - turning the place into a veritable fortress, its inhabitants into soldiers.
Tate had only seen her once since the Tsar's men had invaded, a few months ago when they'd held the Winter Festival at the castle - an attempt to put a smile back on the faces, not only of the people who lived here, but also those in the outlying regions. Gwen had come only because some of her own villagers had heard about it. The Festival itself - with live music from Dale - had been a roaring success. But it had been the inroads Tate had made with Gwen that proved the most successful from his point of view.
At first she still hadn't wanted to know. In fact Tate thought, when he approached she might just walk off, turn her back like she had when he'd tried to visit New Hope. But something about that time of year, about Christmas, about peace to all men and forgiveness, must have touched her heart. It was the Lord working His magic again he suspected. No, more than suspected, believed completely. For the fact that she'd spoken to him at all must surely have been some kind of miracle.
They'd left it open, with the possibility of talking again at some point; the friendship at least thawing a little. She no longer sounded like she wanted to rip out his throat, anyway. Tate had planned to visit New Hope again soon after and see how the land lay, but up till now things had been so busy at the castle. He'd resolved to definitely go there within the next couple of weeks, though, as spring took hold, because there wouldn't ever be a perfect time. He didn't want to waste the opportunity he'd been given back in December. Instead of rebuilding the castle, he had to now rebuild a few bridges.
He'd talk to Robert when he returned, ask for an escort. Once he'd resolved to do it, he found he was actually looking forward to seeing Gwen again. To talking with her, and maybe, just maybe, persuading her to abandon the path of hatred and anger she was currently on.
To return her to the fold of Christ, where she might actually find tranquillity again.
"Jesus H. fucking Christ!"
Gwen ducked back down as the bullet ricocheted off the
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