Disclaimer: As much as we like running through the forest with bows and arrows and eating stew of questionable origin, we do not own Robin Hood or any of his merry affiliates.
Author's Note: This story was half-planned by Hero of Locksley (Robin) and half-plotted and written by Jacquerie's Wish (Much), who grows quite weary of her counterpart's half-baked schemes. Enjoy.
The sun lingered on the horizon in a halo of desert haze. Day would be gone soon and with it, their lifesource. The others didn't believe her at first—"but I don't understand it, Djaq, the desert is hot"—but even before sunset they began to feel the chill of darkness and prepared to set out at once.
The Saracen feasts had just begun in the city, and the streets were deserted. Golden lights filtered through the cloths that covered each window in the squat, sandy dwellings. They skirted in the shadows, chasing the pattern of light and dark beneath the windows. Muffled voices chattered and goblets clinked as they passed.
They reached the end of the street as night overcame the city. Djaq motioned the other two to come closer, and when they did the commotion of celebration broke into the open.
"There." She pointed. An enormous walled courtyard, with pillars that rose high above the rest of the city, twinkled before them with starbursts of lantern-light. Through the bushes that grew around the borders, they could see four men carrying a spit containing the largest roast pig any of them had ever seen.
"We'll be dead before we reach the table," came a voice behind her.
"Surely you have more faith in your own competence than that. Am I mistaken, or were you once one of Robin Hood's men?"
Will pulled off his mask to give her a look. "You were too. We didn't work like this back home."
"It is hardly different. Just… upfront and personal."
"See, Will, we're improving our people skills," said the figure behind them. The mask betrayed no expression but for the sparkle of clever eyes.
"Hilarious." He retied his mask and pulled up his hood. "Just tell me when."
"Now," said Djaq. They slipped out from the corner and approached the courtyard. She smiled at Will. "In through the nose, out through the mouth."
"I know how to breathe."
"You do not sound like you know."
"Are you going to show us the way or not?"
Djaq opened her mouth to reply, but the figure in front shushed them both. "Hurry up, both of you."
Will and Djaq ran to the edge of the courtyard and kept watch as the third member pulled the bow and an arrow from the quiver on its back and fired away. The sound as it struck the top of the pillar was lost among the party noise. The rope at its end trailed down. Will caught the end and tugged for safety. He braced his feet on either side and began to climb. Djaq followed and, once they had both made it to the top, gave the signal.
The figure put away its bow and reached into the pocket of its trousers. It drew out a long hairpin that reflected every star in its silver surface. The easiest part was over. With a deep breath, Marian tied back her hair with the pin, pulled up her hood, and fled after them toward the glow of the Saracen feast.
Thank you for your readership! If we are not complete lazy gits, we will bring you the next chapter with due haste. Reviews may or may not aid this process.
- Robin & Much