I don't own Robin Hood. I've said it- now let us commence!
Part one- Much
It had been five years since he'd seen his home. Things would never be the same, he'd spent his entire life serving the nobles at Locksley- he wouldn't know what to do with himself, now he was a free man. Still, he supposed, he'd stay near Master Robin and he was sure to learn the ropes swiftly- but before he could do anything, he'd have to get home. They must've been a day away from Locksley when they came across an unsavoury sight; soldiers had ahold of a boy, who by looking at him had seen fewer than ten winters, and were preparing to remove one of his fingers with a blunt axe. Had England changed this much in their absence? They hatched a quick plan and soon saw the boy, who apparently had tried to kill a deer, hurrying off into the woods. Their subsequent getaway was worth it if they had saved a boy from pain. He hadn't expected to see the boy again, but of all places in the dungeons of Nottingham, he was brought before them.
"You are not from Locksley." Robin informed the boy, sternly.
"Yeah... I know, but... You saved me life before, and I thought maybe..." He didnt know whether or not to trust the cherubic look the boy was pulling as he spoke to the floor, and neither it seemed, did Robin. Sighing, Robin knelt in front of the boy and spoke.
"Your lies today could be your undoing." he paused as the boy looked, fearfully into his face. "I cannot save the others, now I fear you shall share their fate..."
"wh... what fate?" the boy's gaze, panicking, flitted between Robin and himself and he found he couldn't watch his face any longer. Robin chose this moment to leave, and he gladly followed, trying to ignore the boy's desperate pleading with the gaoler.
"Master... surely they cannot...?" he only received a dark look from Robin and found himself feeling rather ill at the thought of four young boys losing their lives as a sick game of men with too much power, but they were far from being able to forget about them- Robin being appointed to oversee the hangings himself. What he couldn't beleive was the old, kind, fair sheriff and his daughter, who urged Robin that he had to allow the hangings. For heavens sake- the eldest amongst the boys was only 23 years of age! And what had they done? Stolen flour, pickpocketed from the wrong man- very minor crimes, and by looking at them- they had only stolen to feed themselves before they wasted away. All he could do was wait to see what Robin decided to do.