Robin Hood: The Moment of Truth
Return to the Beginning
By: Shadow Chaser
Author's Notes:
Robin Hood and all of its characters do not belong to me. Robin Hood belongs to Dominic Minghella, Foz Allan, Tiger Aspect Productions, and BBC One. Assassin's Creed belongs to Jade Raymond, Patrice Desilets, Ubisoft Montreal, and Ubisoft. This story is written for fandom and not for profit. This story takes place in early November. It is recommended that you read all of the previous stories I have written for Robin Hood (including the crossovers), but not required to enjoy this fanfic.
Summary:
Since his return from the Holy Lands, Robin of Locksley fought for the King and for country. Becoming an outlaw, he has become a fighter for truth and for justice. But now, it comes down to this, the momentous showdown between the Sheriff of Nottingham and Robin Hood. For each moment, there is a pause. For each moment, there is a glimpse of dark. For each moment, there is the hope of light. Robin faces the moment of truth and this time, it will cost a life.
Historical Note:
King Richard signed a treaty with Salah al-Din around late August of 1192 before finally leaving the Holy Lands in September of 1192. However, he was captured by Leopold V, Duke of Austria before turned over to Emperor Henry VI of Germany and the Holy Roman Empire who held him ransom for a rather large sum of money. That debt was paid off mostly by his mother, Eleanor of Aquitaine and Richard finally returned home (home being northern France) in 1194. Due to continuity errors and for the sake of this story, I am ignoring the 1194 date and setting this story in late 1192. There will be an additional historical note at the end of this trilogy.
Story:
Part 1 – Stratagem
Mid-September, 1192
THE REPUBLIC OF VENICE
The cacophony of noise that was prevalent in a bustling city was heard by familiar ears as he stood upon the roof of a non-descript building, staring out at the many islands that made of the magnificent city-state of Venice. A major port of call for many of those looking to cross into the Holy Lands and from there to the Orient, it was also a gateway city back to the great empires of the Euro-Kings and Queens.
This was also why it made for one of the best places for the Hashashin to have a bureau. Granted it was a fledging one, having been commissioned by him earlier in the year, but his men had already made numerous progresses in establishing themselves in all walks of the Venetian society. So he stood upon the roof of the building, surveying the flatlands and marshlands that the city stood upon.
But he was not expected to stay long, having used the bureau located here as a stop point in his journey back to Masyaf, to make his report on the events that had happened just a little over a month and half ago. For Altaїr Ibn la-Ahad, the mission was complete, Hadiya killed, and the Piece of Eden still safe. The more pressing concern was now to warn his fellow Brothers and Sisters of the Hashashin of the growing influence the Knights Templar had over some of the Euro-Kings, especially from what he had overheard by the Sheriff of Nottingham and the French noble, Le Celle.
The fastest ship was already secured to sail him to Acre to leave port later in the day. He would have been down by the docks had it not been for the rumor he had heard yesterday from the Rafiq of the bureau. He had immediately seen to it that messengers were sent out to affirm the situation and they had yet to report back.
Suddenly the patter of feet upon clay rooftops made him turn slightly to his left, his ever present white assassin's outfit and hood up, making him look like an ordinary scholar. The informant, dressed in seaman's clothes, but bore the mark of the assassins, his left ring finger cut, approached him, face pinched and pensive.
Altaїr did not like the expression. "What news?" he asked quietly in English, his Arabic accent soft.
"The rumors are true Master Altaїr," the informant replied, "the others have stayed to watch their marks and bid me to return, but it is true. Leopold V, Duke of Austria has been confirmed as the new leader of the Templars."
Altaїr swore silently, gritting his teeth. It was only a year ago that he had killed the Knights Templar leader Armand Bouchart and had decimated their ranks in Cyprus, driving them out, yet they had already chosen a new leader.
"And he is headed towards France?"
"No Master," the young man shook his head, "to England."
This time Altaїr narrowed his eyes as he stared towards the western inland areas of the city-state. To England meant the Templars were serious enough to recruit Prince John, the regent, holding the lands for his brother King Richard. The last he had heard of Richard the Lionhearted before he had left for his mission to stop Hadiya was that the King was close to negotiating a truce with Salah al-Din and ending the Crusade.
If Leopold was headed to England, it meant that the King had failed in his truce and the Duke of Austria was taking advantage of that to bring his younger brother into the fold of the Templars. By extension it meant that if the Sheriff of Nottingham was in high favor with the Prince as he had heard rumors about, then Nottinghamshire would be controlled by Templars, endangering Robin of Locksley's efforts to depose the corrupt ruler.
Altaїr bit his lip, shaking his head slightly as he thought. He had no further obligation to his friend and the consequences were grave at the moment. The only thing he could do at the moment was to stop Leopold from ever setting foot in England or even meeting Prince John, thereby preventing the chain of events he had thought would happen. It would be helping Robin out in a distance, but he knew that his main goal was to kill the newest leader of the Knights Templar.
He clapped the seaman on the shoulder, "Thank you for your information. Tell the Rafiq that I will be returning back to England to assassinate Leopold V, Duke of Austria. Send word to Malik and the others of events happening here."
"But you will need men to help you get past his guards-"
"I leave for England now," Altaїr shook his head, "if the men are found, then send them after me."
"As you wish Master," the informant bowed his head slightly to him before scrambling down the side of the building and headed in. Altaїr watched him enter before turning and dashing across the rooftops, headed towards the inland coast to find a horse that would speed him back to the destination he had left just a month and half ago.
Time was of the essence.
November, 1192
THE NORTH ROAD
He stood there, a lone figure amongst the colorful red, yellow, orange, brown leaves of the fall season covering the dirt path before him. The familiar green cowl over his head he watched as the approaching carriage of the latest in tax revenue for the Prince slowly halted before him. The guards walking by the carriage tensed, their weapons drawn, but he was not concerned. His right fingers brushed gently on the feathers of his arrow notched into his bow, but it was not drawn, resting lightly in front of him.
The familiar curved Saracen blade hung by his side and his pack of arrows was slung behind him, a comforting weight. Behind his archer's hood, his green eyes sparkled in mirth and a roguish smile lit up his face as he stared at the wagon and guards.
"Gentlemen," Robin of Locksley, former Lord of Locksley, now outlaw, greeted pleasantly, "I am Robin Hood-"
The guards visibly started and the smile grew an inch wider.
"-and I am here to relieve you of your gold."
"He's only one man!" the fat, portly man next to the driver spluttered. Robin's eyes lit up with amusement as he saw that indeed this man would be loaded with gold, especially on his persons. One did not get that fat except from unhealthy eating in this day and age, which meant, he had a lot of gold to spare to buy rich foods.
"You must be the King's new tax collector, I presume?" Robin inclined his head towards the portly man, "pleased to meet you, I'm Robin Hood."
"Get him!" the man's face was turning a nice ugly shade of red and Robin lifted his bow slightly in a warning gesture as the guards surrounding the carriage as they tentatively approached him.
"I wouldn't," he grinned just as the rustle of more leaves being trampled along with bushes crushed emerged from all sides and looked around to see three more of his gang surrounding the carriage.
"There are only four of them!" the portly man's face was now turning from red to purple in outrage.
"Uh, guess again," Robin gestured with the tip of his bow and arrow to the surrounding trees as they rustled around them. Immediately the guards, driver, and portly man's gaze shot to the surrounding trees before the soldiers crowded around the carriage, murmuring prayers. Some even drew the sign of the cross across their chests. He heaved a loud sigh, bringing the portly man's gaze upon him and noticed to his amusement that the purple coloring was gone and in place, the man looked like a white sheet. "Now then, shall I be relieving you of your gold or will you continue to put up a fuss?"
The man gave an audible gulp before raising his hands in a gesture of surrender as did the others and Robin nodded once.
"Good," was all he said smile wide on his face.
The smile was soon wiped off in less than an hour.
"Run!" Robin shouted as he and the rest of the gang of outlaws fled through the forests of Sherwood. The thundering hoof beats of horses echoed loudly behind them, pursuit not even letting up. He had already dropped at least one bag of gold from the two he was carrying in an effort to stall the soldiers chasing after them and was only clutching one, slung over his shoulder as he and Much ran as a pair through the multi-colored forest.
He had known something was to go wrong ever since the guards had surrendered so easily. He knew that his reputation preceded him and that made guards and caravans even more nervous, but somehow, something just seemed too easy, especially with that many guards surrounding the tax collector's wagon. And his unease was proven true when a small guard of soldiers had ridden into view on the North Road, bearing the colors of the Sheriff and Prince John, determined to capture them.
His gang had immediately scattered into pairs, knowing what to do at the first sign of trouble and he hoped as he had gone in his own direction with Much that none of them would get caught. They all knew to meet up after the sun had set for the day at one of their secret locations, but until then, they were to hide.
In recent months, there had been an increase in guard patrols and ambushes along the roads that the outlaws had used to stake out their ambushes. It made for some tricky planning and secondary planning to steal the gold from under the Sheriff's nose, but instead of despairing, Robin took it as a good sign. A sign that his actions were infuriating not only the Sheriff, Gisborne, and all of the crooked nobles in Nottinghamshire, but had also reached the ears of Prince John and most certainly his court of nobles.
It meant that his actions had an impact, and he hoped galvanized many of the nobles who were on the fence about his the months past, the legend and stories of Robin Hood and his gang had grown into a potent reputation amongst Nottinghamshire and if Robin's ears were correct, stories of their exploits were also gaining traction amongst the nobility throughout England.
Rumors spoke that some of the nobles who opposed Prince John's regency and heavy taxation of the lands were galvanized by his efforts, seeing it as a way for them to freely oppose the tyrannical Prince in any way. Though he did not mind being used as the scapegoat in this respect, it still heartened him that at least now the nobles were doing something instead of cowering to Prince John's every whim.
The only problem was still in Nottinghamshire. Sheriff Vaysey had grown increasingly agitated and became tighter fisted with the money collected. The nobles of the province still cowered at his rule and Robin knew that an inevitable confrontation between the two of them was fast at hand. However, if he could provide some relief to the populace in any way shape or form, he would do so. But with the increase in guards, it was getting trickier to find ways to help the populace.
The Sheriff had started to resort to severe retaliation against those who suddenly had an influx of money, so Robin had to think of new and clever ways to disguise the influx of money that appeared in the villages at times.
"Robin, they're still following!" Much's voice jumped slightly as the two of them slid down a hill, leaping across a couple of fallen branches before Robin took a sharp right and ran towards a series of bramble and bushes. Branches whipped across his facing, stinging him with their quick swipes and he could feel one cut into his cheek, but ignored it as he heard the thunderous hoof beats behind him, catching up to them.
He considered dropping the gold he had on his back, but quickly decided against it with a look at his former manservant. Much only had one bag too, but at least half of it was ripped open, leaking gold pieces everywhere. If the others had lost the gold they had collected then it would all be for naught. Will needed the gold to trade for lumber and supplies to build their winter quarters. The young carpenter had not told anyone where he was building the winter quarters save for Little John who always helped me carry the wood needed, but he said that he only needed at least a bag worth of gold to finish the job before snow started to fall.
This was their last chance; Little John had said that he could smell the snow coming within a couple of weeks. Holing up with villagers in other towns would put them too at risk for the Sheriff to discover where they were. Their best bet was to stay in the woods until the Sheriff was deposed or when the King returned from the Holy Land. He risked a quick glance back and narrowed his eyes. At this rate, they would lose both bags of gold…
"Much!" Robin made a quick decision and threw his bag of gold towards his friend, "catch!"
He saw him fumble for a second, nearly dropping the bag onto the mossy ground before Robin skidded to a stop and drew his bow, notching an arrow. "Keep running! I'll be behind you!" he shouted before firing his first arrow, hitting a soldier in the leg. The soldier fell off of his mount, screaming in pain before Robin notched another arrow and let it fly, deliberately missing the ear of another so much that he abruptly pulled on his horse's reigns and the horse immediately bucked him off.
Ducking as two arrows flew by his head, he let another one loose, scratching the flank of another horse, making it rear, throwing its rider off before it galloped away. Firing several more arrows, scattering the soldiers that had been sent after him and Much, he smiled grimly as the soldiers all either had fallen to the ground or were trying to keep themselves up on their mounts.
Seeing that pursuit was all but halted, he turned and dashed off, catching the tail end of Much's multicolored poncho before he disappeared over a ridge. Robin slung his bow across his shoulder and ran, leaping through bramble, his breath coming out in short quick misty gasps as the cold air was sucked into his lungs and pushed back out.
The late fall and prick of cold winter invigorated him as he slowly caught up to Much before the two of them ran up another hill and towards a small series of trees that served as one of their lookout points. "Much!" he called out, making his manservant turn back around, a relieved smile on his face.
"Are they-"
"Up the tree, come on!" Robin urged him to start climbing the trees and he did so as well. A few minutes later they sat comfortably high on the branches surrounded by the red-gold foliage of the tree. He knew that soon they would not be able to use this place as a hiding spot anymore, due to the lack of foliage covering them, but for now, it still served its purpose.
"Master, are they…all gone?" Much huffed, out of breath. Robin patted him gently on the back before nodding.
"I think so," he glanced down and through the branches for any sign of pursuit. It would take some time for the soldiers to get their mounts to obey them, after the flurry of arrows he had shot at them, but he couldn't discount the fact that these were soldiers bearing the colors of the Sheriff and Prince John.
The Sheriff's men he knew would be terrified of him, but Prince John's men, they were as good as the King's own Private Guard and just as loyal to their Prince. Why the Prince's men were doing here was puzzling to Robin and made him worried, but he knew he should have expected it as much. It meant his fame and status was growing to the point where the Prince had to send his own soldiers to Nottingham to at least take some semblance of control over the situation here.
"What do we do with the money?" Much asked as the two of them kept a wary eye out for any of the pursuing soldiers.
"Most of it will have to go to Will, if this is all that's left. Then part of it will be for Marian's father-"
"The medicine, right," Much nodded in understanding.
Robin smiled slightly and also nodded absently. Sir Edward had fallen ill just a few of weeks ago with the winter cold, but unlike most others who had gotten well after a week, the cold seemed to cling onto him and he needed the local herbs the apothecary was will to sell, but at a very high cost. He knew that Marian could have gotten the medicine, but she had been too worried about leaving her father alone to make the necessary journey to Nottinghamshire every other day.
So Robin and his men had volunteered to get the medicine for Marian and deliver it to Knighton Hall. If anyone had wondered how she had gotten the medicine, they had Rowan to step in for her. Ever since the summer solstice tournament, the young man from Treeton had asked permission to become a squire under Edward's household and both Marian and Edward had agreed.
In a twisted way, though he would never admit it to anyone, even Much, he was glad that Marian's father had fallen ill. It meant that Marian didn't spend so much time in Nottingham Castle where the risk of her being caught as an outlaw sympathizer was great. It also meant that she didn't spend so much time with Guy of Gisborne to whom Robin had witnessed more than once try to sway Marian to his side. He would not deny the jealousy within him, but he would never trust the man who had almost assassinated his King.
The neigh of a horse coming down a path jolted Robin out of his thoughts as he tensed, quietly unshouldering his bow and drawing an arrow taunt. He knew he had a limited supply left, so each shot had to count. Beside him Much drew in a sharp breath as the two of them watched three soldiers, dressed in the colors of Prince John trot near and around the trees they were hiding in.
Robin picked out the nearest target to him and steadied his hand as he watched them wheel around several times. He could feel a bead of cold sweat rolling down his face, chilled by the late fall air. However, his breath came in steady beats, his eyes narrowing to his target. Just as suddenly he relaxed, letting the arrow sit on his bow as the soldiers wheeled about and rode away, headed towards a different direction.
Much let out a loud sigh of relief and sat back against the branch he was sitting on. "At least that's over…"
"Not until the last man," Robin grinned, reminding him of the first thing they did when they had arrived at the borders of Nottinghamshire. "We'll wait here for a while just in case then you go back to the hideout and I'll head to Nottingham."
"Just yourself? But Robin-"
"Don't worry, I am not going to let myself get caught, this time," he clapped his friend on the shoulder and shook it reassuringly.
"You'd better not," his former manservant grumbled mostly to himself before rubbing his hands together for some warmth. "I can't wait to get back…hot fire, food…"
Robin had to laugh at the simplicity of Much's words. Ever since his return, he had found that there were more simple things to laugh than ever before. His only wish right now was for the King to return, then everything he held dear to him would be able to be celebrated in the open and the laughter would be really just that, a simple unaltered laugh.
NOTTINGHAM CASTLE
Sheriff Vaysey did not have the luxury of laughing as he looked up at his leftenant. "Tell me Gisborne," he watched as he leaned against one side of the wall of the great hall where a meeting of the nobles had concluded about an hour ago, "Why is it that you haven't caught Robin Hood yet?"
He was pleased to see Gisborne's jaw tighten as he reminded him yet again of his failure to capture the slippery outlaw. That had been one of the bigger topics in today's meeting and one that the Sheriff made his displeasure felt by the other nobles. They were in charge of their villages and whatnot, not Robin Hood, and they were the ones who needed to enforce the law. He suspected some of them were already in league with the damned bastard, but he needed more proof.
"Eight months since he's returned to England, and in eight months, you have not been able to capture or even execute him!" he said, inwardly surprised at how calm his voice sounded. However, he caught Gisborne flinching under his words. Good, let the man squirm. He was becoming more and more incompetent for not even being able to capture one single outlaw.
He picked up the parchment he had been given this morning, hence the emergency meeting with the nobles just over an hour ago. He had not allowed Gisborne to attend, hoping to make him squirm a little more, and it did make the man squirm. He was sick and tired of the man's incompetence and the letter he had received this morning did nothing to assuage his feelings. It was high time that Gisborne grew some backbone; otherwise he would find himself a new leftenant.
"Do you know what this is?" he lifted the letter a bit and saw him approach, shaking his head. "It's a letter from Prince John."
He saw Gisborne's eyes widen slightly.
"Yes, that Prince John. The same Prince John that had apparently ordered you to try to kill me for being unable to capture Robin Hood five months ago," from this letter, Vaysey had learned of the supposed secret orders that the Prince had given to Gisborne should he fail in making sure James of Atherstone killed Hood. However, he figured he should at least be somewhat grateful that Gisborne's loyalties were stronger than he had imagined.
However, after so many months of failures, he wondered if Gisborne's loyalties were waning or was he beginning to get too soft. Maybe he was even beginning to listen to Hood's prattling, though he suspected it was probably because of that she-bitch Marian that held sway over his heart. When would Gisborne get it through his thick skull that he could just take the girl by force if he wanted to? None of the stupid chivalry and two-timing stuff that made men so weak-hearted.
He continued to stare at Gisborne, making him squirm under his gaze before tossing him the letter. "He's arriving," he saw the shock flit across his second-in-command's face, "today."
"T-Today, sire?" Gisborne asked, picking up the letter and hastily scanning it.
"Yes," Vaysey snapped, "apparently your efforts in capturing Hood has proved fruitless so he feels he can come in, and make sure the job is done right." He made sure the hint of warning was in his tone and that his second-in-command was fully aware of the implicated consequences. The Prince and regent of the realm did not enter another Lord or Sheriff's territory without some consequence for said Lord of the realm. He knew full well that someone was going to pay for the incompetence in Nottinghamshire, and he fully expected to place the blame on Gisborne.
And looking at his leftenant, he saw that Gisborne understood the consequences too, a twitch of fear running through his body as he placed the letter back down on the table. Now who would Gisborne blame was most curious indeed. Or at least Vaysey hoped it would help, it would spur him to double his efforts at capturing Hood.
"Well?" he asked, expectantly.
"I must take my leave," Gisborne quickly bowed and headed up the stairs and away from the great hall, leaving Vaysey alone in the great hall once more. At least his second-in-command was now properly motivated, he thought as servants came in with piping hot food for his late lunch meal.
The only thing that he could count on was the fact that the other plan that the Prince had specifically ordered him to do a week ago, was about to take effect.
NOTTINGHAM TOWN
Robin hid under the guise of being a peasant looking for wares as he threaded their way through the market stalls and shoppers that peddled their products. Though taxes were at an all time high, at least some semblance of market day had returned. The Sheriff may be a pain in his backside, but even he knew that people needed food and commerce was good for a region. But in his opinion, there were still far too little people on the streets for even the semblance of a bountiful market day. Only the rich, nobles and simpering peasants who pandered to the Sheriff's every whim were on the streets, looking at the meager wares the stores put out for them.
He watched a few peasants turn their noses up at some of the food on display. He should have expected that human nature made even these peasants the way they were. They had turned in their neighbors, those that could not pay the latest taxes to the Sheriff in exchange for amounts of gold. And even when their neighbors returned after their time in jail, they still had turned them in yet again for not being able to pay again.
It was people like these that disgusted him at times now. No more than the nobles who ran after Vaysey's coattails, but he had remembered a few of them looking at him as the hero, the savior. He remembered giving a few of them gold back when he had become an outlaw, seeing that everyone in Nottinghamshire needed his help. Now bolstered with the gold they horded, they had tried to curry favor with the Sheriff and he had given it to them.
He glanced to his left at the physician's storefront that was a few stalls over, by the corner of Pine Street. A patrol of guards was wandering by, too close for Robin to be able to sneak in and make the medicinal purchase that he needed to for Marian's father. Narrowing his eyes slightly, he wondered if there was a way to distract the guards-
"Please, sir, spare a few?" a beggar spoke up near the stall he had paused at, and he glanced down, recognizing the voice.
A slight smile appeared on his face as he saw that it was Rowan in disguise and saw the smile reciprocated on the young man's face. Robin leaned over the stall he was looking at and spilled a few small pieces of fruit onto the ground.
"Hey!" the stall keeper glared at him and he bowed his head.
"Sorry, sorry," he apologized before kneeling on the ground and made a show of collecting the spilled produce he had knocked over. The billowing flare of his cloak covered the deft fingers he used to drop the bag of money Rowan needed to buy the medicine. The guards knew Rowan as both the winner of the silver arrow contest and as the competing knight of Lady Marian so they would not give him trouble nor would the physician himself. Robin knew that the physician had sworn to take no sides in the apparently subtle battle between Robin and the Sheriff, upholding his oath, but he was a skittish man, prone to babble and stutter whenever Robin was around.
But he treated all of those who sought his aid with a fair attitude. Rowan would be the safer alternative to get the medicine Marian's father needed.
"Thank you good sir," Rowan winked at him and he finished picking up all of the dropped fruit before getting up and placing them back on the stall. Taking some of the coin that he always kept upon himself, he pressed a couple of coins into the seller's hand paying for the fruit he had dropped. No sense wasting perfectly good food even though it was slightly bruised and a bit dusty.
"Yeah, you be paying for what you dropped you lout," the stall keeper growled out before he turned away and headed towards the northern gates of the city, assured that everything was in good hands.
A quick glance back made him see the flash of Rowan's brown cloak as he disappeared around the corner towards the physician's storefront. Turning back around, he made to turn down another street when the thundering of hooves and the shouts of surprise followed by scattered people across the main thoroughfare, made him pause. He was swept along with the crowd as they pushed back against walls and stalls, watching the horses gallop by.
Robin narrowed his eyes as he recognized the red-black banner that was Prince John's. The same banner he and his gang had encountered this morning in their ill-fated attempt to rob the latest tax collector's wealth. Had the guards traced him here? But that was impossible… He and Much had parted ways after they were sure that the guards had gone off searching for them in a different part of the woods.
He tilted his head slightly, pulling his cloak closer to him as he realized that this set of guards, four of them, were surrounding somebody, protecting him. As the small entourage passed by, Robin's eyes widened in shock. He knew the man in the center of the protective detail…
He had been considerably shorter than his brother, but nonetheless also held the same regal bearing. However, that had been spoiled by the gleam of unhinged power and need for it when it was announced that his brother would be embarking on a Crusade to recapture Jerusalem for the glory of God and the Church. Robin had only met him once, but it was enough for him to understand that this Crusade needed to be finished quickly before the corruption that was Prince John, regent, spoiled the rule that was Richard the Lionhearted.
He quickly hid his own face by bowing his head as the other peasants did the same, hoping that the Prince would not recognize him in the garbs of a peasant. No doubt that his deeds had given much credence to his image and appearance. As the small entourage thundered by, he wondered what the Prince was doing here in Nottinghamshire. Was the Sheriff in serious trouble? Was a new Sheriff to replace him? A million other questions flitted through his head and he glanced back down the streets, the ones that would lead out of Nottingham and to parts of the shire.
He wanted to visit Marian and make sure she was doing all right; wanted to go back to the gang to make sure that everyone was all right and that they had enough money for Will to make the last of his purchases, but… He bit his lip as he looked towards the castle, looming over the town. Prince John's arrival spoke volumes and he wanted to know what the man was up to.
Shaking his head, he let loose a quiet sigh and wrapped his cloak tighter around him, preserving the warmth in the chilly fall air from making him cold. There was only one decision he needed to make.
Robin turned and headed towards the castle.
KNIGHTON HALL
Marian tended the fire in the hearth, making the fire blaze a bit hotter as the wooden logs were consumed. "Better?" she asked, glancing at her father who was sitting in a high-backed chair, near the fire, blankets covering his frail, thin form. She tried to keep her voice light, but it was hard to see her father like this, reduced to such a weakened state.
"Thank you, Marian," her father's blue eyes were bright and he attempted to smile, his lips pulling across his emaciated face. "You should get some rest. You've been taking care of everything in the house for the past week."
"I will," she smiled slightly, putting the hot poker to the side and went over to embrace her father. "I'm just glad you're feeling better," she could feel the bones through the blankets and felt tears pricking at the corner of her eyes. Ever since her father had gotten sick from the mysterious wasting disease he had, she had a feeling that he would not survive the coming winter.
Yet she held out hope and brought the medicine needed to combat the sickness, hoping by some miracle of God that he would spare her father for at least one more year. It just seemed like months ago that he was as vibrant as always, attending functions and tournaments with her, giving her a shoulder to cry on, keeping her healthy when she was recovering from her shoulder wound and from the illness she had contracted in Nettlestone.
He had even kept Gisborne at bay during those times, and she had been so grateful for his efforts. Now…now it seemed like he was literally slowly dying in front of her eyes and there was nothing she could do about it. There were times when she had just sat in her room, tears silently streaming out of her eyes. Sometimes Robin was there with her, holding her as she cried, but more often than not, she was alone with her grief.
A gentle knock on the front door made her look towards it and she gave her father a brief kiss on his cheek before hurrying to the door and opened it. Rowan stood on the steps, his boyish features maturing almost everyday into manhood. He had a sheepish smile on his face, but nonetheless held out the small jar of medicine he had in his hands towards her.
"Thank you," she opened the door wider as she took the medicine from him and gestured for him to come in.
Ever since the summer solstice tournament, Rowan had visited her and her father whenever he got the chance, hoping to learn how to be a proper squire and acquire other useful skills to help his village of Treeton. Since her father had gotten sick, he had also become a go-between whenever Robin was not able to bring the medicine her father needed due to the Sheriff's men still watching her house.
"Hello Sir Edward," Rowan greeted her father with a slight bow of his head, "I apologize if I'm disturbing your afternoon nap…"
"No, no," Edward cleared his throat roughly, shaking his head as best as he could under all of the blankets, "you know you are more than welcomed here young man."
"Thank you," Rowan bowed again before turning to Marian as she hurried to pour a dose of the medicine for her father, "I think Robin's going to visit later, though I'm not too sure."
"Rowan?" she looked at him, concerned.
"Rumor had it that they were ambushed this morning by guards belonging to Prince John. Then a bunch of guards in colors I didn't recognize raced through the main streets of Nottingham up to the castle."
"Is Robin well?" Marian felt a spike of fear run through her at the thought of the Sheriff ambushing Robin and his men and at the thought that the Prince's guards were involved. She had heard the rumors that her love and the band of outlaws he ran with were getting extremely popular. In the rare times she did go into Nottingham, there were constant whispers of the latest exploits or tall stories of exploits that Robin Hood and his Merry Band of Men had accomplished.
Most of those stories were just that, tall tales, but Marian knew that Robin's infamy was growing. She finished pouring the needed dose and gave it to her father who drank it all with a wince of disgust on his face.
"He looked fine," Rowan replied, "do you want me to find Much and the others?"
"No," she shook her head, but before she could say anything else, the sudden thunder of hooves and whinnies of horses followed by men shouting made her stare at her door in concern. Even Rowan looked alert, a frown on his face.
She opened her mouth to ask if he had been followed when suddenly, the window next to the door shattered as a torch was thrown in. Marian involuntarily screamed as the burning embers hit the ground and the curtains next to the window burst into flames. "Marian!" her father shouted and she turned, her eyes wide and fearful, before she realized that her father needed her help getting out of the house. Hurrying over to him, she coughed and squinted as the smoke from the fire spread throughout the house before Rowan appeared by her side and together the two of them lifted Edward gingerly to his feet before hurrying him towards the door.
Rowan reached out and flung the door open and Marian breathed in a quick breath of fresh air, coughing slightly before hurrying out of the house. She felt her father stumble along side her, but kept pulling him further away from their house. Turning her head slightly, she felt a choked sob escape her lips as she saw that the roof was now on fire, the flames quickly spreading to her father and her room. All of her possessions, keepsakes…everything…
"No…" she whispered, her voice hoarse and broken. She could feel her father trembling beside her.
"Milady look out!" Rowan suddenly shouted as he ran from doorway of the house, pointing frantically towards her.
Marian opened her mouth, puzzled and stricken before she realized that the young man was pointing behind her and turned. With the rapidly setting sun in her eyes, she barely caught the glint of a blade headed towards her, but managed to duck and pull her father down at the same time as the sword and the rider upon the horse which held it whistled past her. Shock ran through her for a split second before she realized that brigands were attacking her. She watched in horror as several others on horseback appeared, a couple of them riding past the burning flames of her and her father's house, adding more torches to the fire.
Anger filled her as she surged to her feet, her father on the ground, still trembling from the cold or from shock, she did not know, and she charged the nearest one who wheeled his horse to face her.
"Feisty little one aren't ya?" he drawled out, flourishing his sword once, "think you could take down a man from a horse?"
She glared at him, and he threw his head back laughing before spurring his horse to meet at her. She bit her lip as he swept by before ducking and rolling at the last minute. His blindingly fast swipe nearly took the hairs off of her head, but her hands reached out and managed to grab for the bow and a handful of arrows that he had on the back of his horse's saddle. Turning around with her bounty in hand, she immediately hurried over to her father's huddled form and strung up an arrow, pointing it at the various brigands that surrounded her and her burning house.
"Rowan! Find Robin! Find the others!" she shouted, weaving her bow back and forth, warning the others to stay back. Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see the rest of Knighton fleeing in panic from a couple of others who rode around, torching barrels of hay and other houses.
"Stay where you are boy, unless you want arrows in ya!" the leader of the band, the one she had stolen the bow and arrows from shouted, pointing his sword over her shoulder at Rowan.
"M-Milady-"
"I'll cover you," she let loose her first arrow, nearly nicking the flank of the leader's horse. Turning slightly she gave Rowan what she hoped was a confident smile, "Run!"
She immediately notched another arrow and shot it at another man who charged at her. She could barely hear Rowan scrambling behind her as she watched the arrow go wide. Gritting her teeth, she turned and she hurried to fire another one at one of the horses chasing Rowan as he dashed towards the outskirts of Sherwood Forest. She knew she was not the best of shots, certainly not compared to Robin, but she was pleased to see that her arrow had found the flank of the horse, making it stumble and fall to the ground, pitching its rider high up into the air. Turning back around, she was about to notch her last arrow when the glint of metal against her neck made her freeze up.
To her left, she saw the leader still sitting upon his horse, sword pointed at her throat. "You've been a very bad girl, Lady Marian," he tsked in a not so gentle manner, tapping the flat edge of his sword against her jaw.
She resisted the urge to flinch lest receive a wide cut across her neck from the sharp point of the double-edged sword. Her hands still held the bow and lone arrow taunt, and to her dismay she could see them tremble from the effort she was using to pull against the string. "How do you know who I am?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady as she kept the string taunt.
"Silly little girl," the leader shook his head, chuckling mirthlessly, "you've been such a thorn in the Sheriff's side. He wants you out of the way…"
"You're going to kill me?" it was hard to keep the tremble out of her voice as she realized that for all of her efforts, the Sheriff had realized she had been helping Robin out ever since his return from the Holy Lands.
"P-Please…don't…" her father croaked from where he was huddled.
"Shut up old man!" the sword point suddenly retracted from her neck as the leader waved it in the air, glaring down at her father. "You, the Sheriff wishes he can kill."
"Then do it," she could feel tears streaming down her face as she finally loosened the string, dropping the weapon by her feet. She turned and glared up at the leader of the brigands, mercenaries hired by the Sheriff no doubt, "Kill me because I won't be hung in front of everyone in Nottingham." Her only hope now was that Robin would find her, grieve and mourn for her, but learn how to move on. She silently whispered her apologies to Robin as she stood there, her fists clenched with anger, tears falling out of her eyes.
The brigand leader barked out a single burst of laughter before raising his sword. She dared not track the path of the sword, but instead, kept her eyes locked on the man's face, burning her hatred into his eyes. So concentrated was she on the man's face that she did not notice the way the sword was angled towards her before a brief flash of pain erupted across her head.
Surprise filled her and for a split second she realized that he had not intended to slice her head away from her body, but merely clipped her across the head with the flat of his blade. Then black ness engulfed her as she collapsed to the ground, knocked unconscious.
OUTLAWS' CAMP
Much sprinkled some more of the herbs he had onto the roasting rabbits he had cooking on the spit in their camp. It was already dark, but the fire lit the camp in enough light for him to see the outlines of the others sitting nearby. Turning the spit gingerly, he sprinkled the other side before sitting back to admire his handiwork. Robin would be pleased about dinner tonight and also that the rest of the gang had made it back safely. However, they only had just a couple of bags of money to show for their ambush today, but Much supposed it is better to live than to be rotting in the Sheriff's dungeons.
Heavy footsteps suddenly vibrated the ground next to him and he glared up at Little John who had extended a hand towards the spit. "It's still raw," he said pointedly before a twittering of laughter erupted around the fire.
"Just checking," Little John's voice was full of mirth to which Much realized that the big woodsman had been trying to get him riled up, again.
Sniffing loudly, he glared at the others around the fire, knowing full well that they could barely see him as he could see them. "Very funny guys," he groused. He hated that ever since he had followed his former master in the forest that the gang thought to always try to play jokes on him.
"That joke never gets old," Allan chuckled somewhere to his left and he kicked a few leaves at him. "Hey!" was the indignant reply and Much grinned, glad that something irritated him before a hail of leaves came flying at him.
He cried out, throwing up his hands and spitting out dried leaves, trying to fight through the smelly, dirty, half rotting things before he managed to swipe all of them to the ground. "That's it!" he glared towards Allan's direction, "no food for you tonight!"
"Oh, playing mother now, aren't we?" Djaq's voice came across the fire and he glared towards her, seeing her dark eyes glinting with humor as the fire crackled and blazed. Sitting next to her was Will, laughing into the sleeve of his woolen shirt.
"I'm not your mother-"
"I hope not," was Little John's gruff, but amusing reply from his right.
"-and if you guys keep this up, none of you will get food!"
"Oh, did he just threaten us?" Allan's voice was teasing, but Much frowned. He had long hated the man's teasing tone. But every time he had tried to talk to Robin about it, his master just did not get it and told him that it was all in good fun. The tone was too similar to the same teasing tone had had always gotten from Carter, another one of Robin's friends back in the Holy Land.
At least Carter was still in the Holy Land otherwise, he would probably snap from the constant teasing the two of them would probably put upon him. Why his master allow such things were beyond his comprehension.
"Yeah, I think he threatened us," Will's quiet voice spoke up and Much sighed loudly, shaking his head.
"Will, you too?" he had hoped that the young carpenter, just a couple of years younger than he was, would be an ally between the others, but it seemed time and time again, Will always sided with Allan. Just his luck too.
"Argh!" he pulled his hat in frustration before turning the spit once more, a bit more harshly than he had intended, "you all find food, because this is for me and for Robin!"
"Then I believe we should subdue the cook and take the food for ourselves!" Djaq crowed laughing, the others joining in with her. He shook his head, but had to smile at her attempted stage of a rebellion.
However, all of them immediately quieted down as they heard the crunch of leaves underfoot, hurrying towards them at a fast pace. Much saw Allan and Little John stand up first, their weapons drawn before he too half stood up; gripping the handle of the spit he was cooking with. His sword and shield rested near the log he was sitting on, but he knew how to use anything as an improvised weapon, his years in the Holy Land taught him that.
Both Will and Djaq had also stood up, and to his surprise, or rather he knew he should not be surprised, Will had pushed their resident healer in back of him, trying to shield her. His grip tightened on the spit and he was about to lift it to attack whoever was running towards them when Rowan's face appeared on the edges of light the fire was giving off, making all of them breathe a sigh of relief.
"Rowan?" Little John moved around the fire towards the young man who looked winded and completely out of breath.
Much could not quite see from his angle, but he thought he saw Rowan's clothing streaked with soot, dirt, something dark.
"You have to come with me, quick! Lady Marian's under attack by raiders!" the young man managed to gasp out before tugging on Little John's sleeve.
His statement about Marian in trouble was all that was needed to spur the outlaws into action. Much immediately doused the fire before grabbing his sword and shield as the others mounted their horses, Rowan riding double with Djaq, headed towards Knighton Hall. However, he realized that Robin needed to be warned and there was a good chance his master was still in Nottingham or at least on his way back to camp.
"I'll go find Robin!" he shouted at the others, before peeling off from the group mounting his own horse and headed towards the city. A niggling sense of worry filled him as he knew that his master would not react well to the fact that Marian was under attack. He sent up a quick prayer to God that Marian was all right, and that she was able to fend off her attackers without any harm to her.
Because if she was hurt in any way, it would herald the return of the more dangerous side of Robin that frightened Much more than anything else.
NOTTINGHAM CASTLE
After so many months of slipping in and out, Robin knew the corridors and halls of Nottingham Castle like the back of his hand. So getting past the regular guards the Sheriff always had on staff was easy. However, getting past the added guards that wore the colors of Prince John that was a little harder and took a bit more of a creative bent on Robin's behalf. But this time, some spilled tar, a bunch of chickens, and the possibility of a lit wagon of hay did the trick in making Prince John's guards panic and think someone was attacking them. The straw dummy upon a horse wildly galloping through the town also added fuel to the fire and made the chase even more interesting.
He now walked up a set of stairs, towards the Great Hall's second-floor balcony, dressed in the guise of one of the castle guards. His Saracen curved blade and cloak had been left behind one of the storage closets in the kitchens. His bow and arrow pack had been taken back to camp by Much as it was too obvious and too conspicuous for him to be in the town with them strapped to his back.
"Halt!" one of the guards spoke up as he approached the set of wooden doors that lead to the balcony.
"Relief duty," he muttered, glad that the helmet he wore changed most of his features.
"Where's Ant?" one of the guards asked, puzzled.
"Sick, been coughing all day," he replied quickly, wondering if the guard was asking about the one he had knocked out.
"Oh," the guard paled slightly and gulped audibly, "even had a drink with him too yesterday."
"The weather's changing, could be nothing," Robin shrugged, leaving the rest of his sentence to hang.
"You know…I think I feel a tickle in my throat," the same guard rubbed his neck, clearing his throat abruptly before hurrying past him, "go on then…hey Rob, you mind staying-"
"After what you just pulled?" the other guard looked nervous.
"I'm sure no one's going to peek in, if the two of you want to get checked out by the physician," Robin said innocently, fighting to hide the grin from his face.
"Uh…yeah, sure. Prince's men's here and all of that," the guard named Rob smiled hesitantly before the two guards brushed past Robin and headed down the stairs he had just come up from, their booted feet clattering loudly on the stone ground.
Robin finally allowed himself to chuckle a bit at the sight of the scared guards before pushing one of the doors open slightly, allowing the conversation from within to spill out. He dared not go any further lest risk being seen by the Sheriff or worst Prince John. Peering in as best as he could with his helmeted head leaning against the wooden door, he saw glimpses of the Prince, pacing back and forth in front of the Sheriff who was seated in his chair and Gisborne, leaning against the wall, his arms casually crossed.
However, he could tell even from this distance with his sharp eyes that Gisborne was anything but calm. In fact, the man looked nervous and pale. Whatever the Prince had said, or was saying, it made him uneasy. Good, a part of him enjoyed watching the traitor squirm. Taking a deep, but quiet breath, he let it out slowly before forcing his senses to sharpen and concentrate on the three of them in the room down below.
It was an ability taught to him during his time in the Holy Land, serving with the Hashashin as a go-between the King and the mysterious group who refused to side with either the Saracens or the Crusaders. Specifically it had been taught to him by the Rafiq of the Damascus bureau he had been operating out of with his friend and head of the Hashashin Altaїr. He had used it to search out the details and pluck information from the mouths of others from far away during his mission, though he knew he was not as good with it in long distances.
Hopefully with this much silence and only three others talking, well, at this time it was just Prince John, he would be able to hear their conversation clearly, as if he had been standing next to them.
"…treaty has been completed?"
"Ah, my scribe has been working on it, Your Majesty," the Sheriff replied to the Prince's inquiry.
"Has he told anyone?"
"No, milord, he's mute," Gisborne added, lips thinning.
"You sure?" the Prince looked at him shrewdly.
"Accidents can happen," the Sheriff offered up as if it was nothing.
"Yes, accidents do happen," Prince John emphasized before walking to the other end of the table, tapping his knuckles into the table, a heavy clunking metal sound filling the air. The metal was from all of the rings the Prince wore on his left hand, including his own signet ring.
"Leopold will arrive soon, within a week's time, last I heard," Prince John started conversationally, "and yet, here the two of you are, standing here. How very disappointing."
Robin could see the Sheriff's jaw tighten before the man cleared his throat, "Hood will be captured by then."
He had to suppress the grin threatening to appear on his face. How many times had he heard that statement and how many times was it not true. The Sheriff was posturing now, buying time, unable to face his failure to Prince John of all people. He was here to gather information as to why the Prince was here, but it also did not mean he could enjoy hearing the Prince ream Vaysey out for his incompetent failure.
"You know, my men nearly caught him robbing your latest tax collections today," that statement from the Prince immediately killed Robin's good mood and he focused once more on the conversation down below.
"Ah," the Sheriff's lips twitched as if he could not decide whether to smile or frown.
"Your men, are incompetent. Perhaps the execution of a few would properly motivate them to do their jobs? Or is it that you are in league with Robin Hood?"
"Milord, I would never-"
"Then why? Why of all times you've had Hood in your grasp would you let him go?" the Prince suddenly shouted, leaning across the table, glaring at Vaysey as he shrank back into his chair, his eyes wide with surprise and shock.
"Y-Your Majesty-"
"You've had Hood for the first time back when he turned himself in. You could have killed him then instead of parading him around for the peasantry to see," the Prince hissed softly, almost too softly for Robin to be able to hear, but nonetheless he was able to make out most of the words.
"You had him when Prince Malik came for negotiations and yet, you were not able to kill him then-"
"I…I have a perfectly good explanation for that. You see assassins came after the Prince and were going to kill everyone else-"
"You were overcome by your greed for wealth," the Prince shot back, "is not the power I provide and give you enough? Or do you wish the Crown too?"
"M-Milord, I don't-"
"And don't you look so smug, Guy of Gisborne. You pitiful, title less holder of no lands," the Prince suddenly pulled back from his confrontation with the Sheriff and instead, pinned his angry gaze upon Gisborne who was blinking in surprise.
"That's-"
"-precisely what you are," the Prince finished for him, rapping his knuckles on the long table loudly, "you would could not even follow an order written and signed by my own hand! You let James of Atherstone parade around like the pompous arrogant ass that he was and you could not even kill the Sheriff here."
"I thought those-"
"You thought wrong," the Prince stepped back and glared at the two of them, "pathetic lot the two of you are. I am giving you one last chance. Fail me this time, and both of you will never live to see my England when Leopold comes to sign the treaty for my brother's lands."
"My Prince, Hood has allies, even in villages-"
"Then burn them," the Prince shot back, glaring at Gisborne, "burn the whole damned Sherwood Forest for all I care. I want Hood dead. Do you hear me? Dead."
"Your Majesty," the Sheriff started up hesitantly, "to kill him now, he would be a martyr-"
"Well that's through your own fault, isn't it, Vaysey?"
Robin saw the Sheriff's lips press into an extremely thin line before glaring down at the table. This was even better than he had imagined and doubly even more entertaining. However, he killed the smile just as quickly as he saw the Prince lean down towards the table once again, pinning both the Sheriff and Gisborne with a steady look.
"Rumor has it that my brother is returning soon. This treaty must be signed and all obstacles eliminated before he returns," the Prince's eyes darted back and forth between the two.
"How soon?"
"My spies put him less than a month away," the Prince's eyes flashed angrily, "Hood must be dead before Leopold arrives. The treaty must be signed in two weeks time and everything, I mean everything, every single traitor, sympathizer, everyone who has supported the King or Hood, must be eliminated by any means necessary before my brother arrives."
"Milord, but that's…the people…" Gisborne looked a bit pale at the prospect. However, the Sheriff did not and turned in his seat slightly to glare at his second-in-command.
"Oh grow a spine Gisborne," Vaysey shook his head and plastered a smile on his face as he turned back to face the Prince, "it will be done, Your Majesty."
"Good," the Prince replied, "Because the price of failure will be your heads I present to my brother on a platter when he arrives."
By Robin's reckoning when he finally left, it was just a little past dinner time judging by the smells of food being cooked emanating from the houses in the town. He managed to slip past the gate guards who looked to be occupied with their own meals and found his horse, still standing quietly by the hitching pole. He patted the horse's neck before mounting it and wheeled it towards the path that led to the forest.
Riding towards Sherwood Forest, he decided to head back to camp, feeling a bit hungry himself, but also for the fact that he knew Marian and her father would want to eat without his company to disturb them. He would wait until he was sure Edward had retired for the night before visiting Marian. Spurring the horse to a fast cantor, he was about to turn to the main path that led deeper into the woods when he saw a frantic looking rider, barely visible under all of the shade and moonlight that stretched long dim shadows in the woods.
As the rider drew closer, he squinted and could barely make out the familiar multi-colored poncho that was Much. "Much?" he asked, wondering why he was agitated as he pulled his horse up next to him.
"Marian…under attack, Knighton Hall," his manservant gasped out and Robin's eyes widened in horror.
"Who?" he demanded, shaking Much by the shoulder.
"Don't know, the others," his former manservant struggled to take a deep breath, "they went there…Rowan told us to come."
"Let's go," he immediately spurred his horse into action, putting it in a fast gallop as he took a side path that led towards Knighton Hall. Behind him he heard Much's gasping breaths as the two of them tore through the woods. If anything happened to Marian, he ruthlessly quashed the thought. Marian was more than capable of taking care of herself. She was a fighter and would always be, no one could defeat her…no one.
He soon smelled it before he saw it. Acrid smoke, the stinging sensation in his eyes, and the scent of burning wood, straw; however there was also a scent in there that Robin was all too familiar with, the churlish, fattening scent with just hints of sweat mixed in that was human flesh. He nearly gagged at the smell, the memories of the vicious long battle at Acre rushing through his mind as he and Much burst out of the woods and into the edges of Knighton.
His horse abruptly halted, whickering its displeasure at being so close to a fire, but Robin was too fixated on the scene before him.
The whole town was engulfed in flames.
Author's Notes:
Hello all and welcome to my last multi-part story that I will be writing for the BBC Robin Hood fandom. I believe that it is time to conclude my alternate universe take after the events of Season 1 and I'm glad that all of you have taken the time to read this and my other stories. I say this is the last story only because I don't want to suffer from fandom burnout like I did with some of my other stories, so I am ending it. I know there are a few missing stories, especially Quarantine and Witch Hazel, but perhaps in a few years down the road, those stories will be written. Otherwise, the occasional one-shot may pop up.
So pull up a chair, stick around, because this is only the start of a fast-paced, exciting conclusion to the legend of Robin Hood! Each part of the trilogy will have 3 sub-parts, for a total of 9 parts as of right now. There may be more than 9 after this story is done depending on the level of detail and scenarios to come.
I promise, this story will have a much better ending than Season 2 or Season 3. ^_^