For Those Who Once Lived
Chapter One
The village burned. It burned so brightly that the flames lit up the night sky like a miniature sun. Pain filled cries drifted on the wind. One of the larger buildings collapsed, throwing sparks high into the air. They looked like tiny shooting stars. The mounted men raced through again, swords flashing in the firelight as they killed the few people left alive.
A group of injured, weeping men stood in the centre of an armed circle. One tried to break free as he saw his wife cut down by a mounted guard. He almost made it past his captors before a mace shattered his ribs and dropped him to the ground in a screaming pile. The screams died away when the same guard brought his weapon down on the dying man's head.
Safe in the darkness above the village, Robin let out a slow breath, hand clenched tight around his bow. His knuckles were white. A fine tremor ran down his arm, rage contained in muscle and bone. He lifted his head a little, peering through the rough grass that covered the hill. His men lay next to him, faces smudged with soil. Each was heavily armed. Each was tense with barely contained fury. The village was below them, spread out like a child's toys.
Another building collapsed, the fitful wind carrying sparks into the few homes left intact. The summer dry thatch caught alight easily, bursting into flames that danced against the sky. Will murmured a curse, his dark eyes fixed on the ruined streets.
"So now we know who is behind these night raids," Robin said, voice low and tight. "The Sheriff's men. Taking conscripts for their army." His eyes, almost bronze with reflected firelight, were filled with cold anger.
"Now what do we do, Master?" Much asked. "Do we go down there?"
Grim, Robin shook his head. "No. There's nothing left alive in that village that we can help. We got here too late."
"So what do we do?" Much pressed. His face was set in a worried frown, hands wrapped tightly around the wood of his bow.
The clatter of many hooves on stone made them all duck low, hiding in the wild grass. Below, the Sheriff's men left the village. Tired, bloodied men walked behind them, tied at wrist and ankle with sturdy rope. One man tripped, almost taking the two people next to him down before they caught his arms and forced him back upright. A nasty wound on his leg dripped blood.
"We follow them," Robin said and eased into a crouch, staying low as he made his way down the hill. The others followed behind him. They flowed down the hillside, dark green clothes blending in with the dappled shadows around them. Robin's cloak tangled on a sapling, and he paused to tug it free carefully, so not to leave any sign of their passage behind. The wind was already at work smoothing the grass behind them.
They jogged behind the group of guards, staying in the edge of the forest where they could easily slip into deep cover. Robin stopped after a few minutes, quietly leading the group of outlaws away from the path. A branch snapped under someone's foot as the group worked their way through the tightly woven trees. Everyone kept moving. Sound doesn't carry very far in the forest, and strange noises can be explained away a thousand different ways.
The trees opened out into a small clearing, barely big enough for all of them. A large, fallen tree lay across the space, propped up at one end by a moss covered rock. They stopped, speeding out around the clearing. The forest settled quiet and still around them. All eyes turned towards a rustle, hands reaching automatically for weapons. A well-fed fox ambled out of the undergrowth and froze, staring at the outlaws. After a long moment, its nerve broke and it fled the way it had come.
"Why are we stopping?" Will asked.
Robin stripped off his cape, dropping it into a neat bundle in the hollow of a fallen tree. He shrugged his shoulders to settle his weapons and adjusted a strap a little so it laid flat over his shoulder.
"I know where they are going." His voice was taut with quiet fury. "I need one of you to go ahead and warn the village. The rest of us are going to stall them."
Allan raised his hand. "I'll do it." He copied Robin's example and dropped his cape into the hollow tree. "Where?"
"They're heading towards Locksley next."
For a second, the forest fell into absolute silence. Will broke it, cursing. "Robin, we have to stop them!"
"I know. It's my home too, remember?" Robin said, adding "Allan, off you go. John, you go with him. Get as many people out of there are you can. Tell them to hide in the forest until dawn. We'll hold them for as long as we are able."
Allan nodded, then slipped into the forest, heading away from the group. John gave the group a sombre look, then followed Allan. His dark clothing blended with the trees, easily hiding his larger size.
"What's the plan?" Will asked.
"We move through the forest and cut them off by the crossroads. We'll have the high ground there, we should be able to force them to stop. They can't move very fast with injured men behind them. If we can force them to break into two groups, we have a much better chance of stopping them," Robin said quietly.
Everyone nodded, checking weapons and adjusting clothing.
"Are you ready?" Robin asked, then set off at a fast jog, weaving through the trees with innate grace. The others followed as best they could, keeping up with Robin until they reached the crossroads. Most of the horsemen had already passed through, but the guards on foot trailed behind, slowed considerably by the wounded men they were guarding.
Robin stopped inside the tree line and nocked an arrow in his bow. It cut through the air quietly, striking a guard on the far side of the group. He dropped, screaming, one hand covering his arm where the arrow had lodged. Before any of the other guards had change to react, Robin had fired another arrow, hitting one of them in the thigh.
The other outlaws joined in, sending arrows soaring through the air to strike the guards. Confused and starting to panic, the few remaining guards drew back along the dark road, moving away from the crossroads and away from the village. The wounded men seized the advantage, rushing the guards and using their greater numbers to drive the guards to the ground. None of them got up again.
"Now, onto the village," Robin said.
He eased out of the tree line and onto the road, breaking into a run, bow tucked by his side. Already, screams and the sound of flames had started to carry on the wind. He tucked his chin down a little, and ran faster, thinking I just hope that we're not too late this time.