Of Knights And Thieves

by thesewingscanfly

If Arthur is to secure a treaty with Mercia, he and his men will first have to bring a band of outlaws - lead by the infamous Robin Hood - to justice. But not all is as it seems. Enemies of the past rise to unite with new enemies, and grudges are never forgotten.

1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Relief comes when the forest leaves filter the high noon sun, sparing the men of Camelot from further being baked within their own chainmail. It had been a quiet morning. The unrelenting heat had silenced even the most boisterous of the knights. But beneath the shelter of the trees, only soft rays of light shower down upon them now, and Gwaine is the first to find his voice. He jumps into the story of how he once became a famous town minstrel without singing a single note. Quite a feat, if he does say so himself. The others pay him no attention, of course, except for Elyan who nods politely to show he's listening. Leon presses a damp cloth to the bridge of his nose which was raw and red from the harsh summer flares. And in the back of the group, Percival sits tall in his saddle. Face tilted toward the sky and his eyes closed; either trying to rest or – more likely – trying to block out Gwaine's voice.

As always, Arthur rides ahead with Merlin lagging a few feet behind. Merlin, perfectly comfortable in his lightweight linen tunic, takes in the splendor of the surrounding woods. He has seen his fair share of forests, but there is something different about these. It boasts a certain vibrancy that the stench of his clammy comrades cannot diminish. Even the air itself is full of wonder and life.

A cool breeze rolls across their path, sending loose leaves tumbling and drawing various praises from the armor-clad men. But it only brings about confusion for Merlin. He glances up at the sun then to the shadows around them before urging his horse forward. He falls into stride beside Arthur.

"We're heading south." Merlin attempts to keep his tone casual, but by the look he receives from Arthur, he knows he was unsuccessful.

"Merlin, I am going to assume you don't think I'm a complete idiot-"

"Well..."

"-and that you are pointing out the obvious because you have a problem with it." Arthur uses a spare rag to wipe his face free from sweat, "Go on then, what is it?"

"What is what?" Merlin straightens his back. "You assume I have a problem. I have no problem. And certainly not with going south. In fact, I think the south has a view that is particularly lovely this time of year. That's why I was pointing it out."

Arthur raises an eyebrow and throws the dirty cloth at Merlin, who makes a failed attempt at batting it away. The salty, damp swatch hits his face before falling into his lap. He wipes a hand over his mouth with a grimace, slumping back into his original posture, "We spent a full day riding north, and now that we're heading south it just seems like we may be-"

"Backtracking?" Arthur offers. "We're not. I wanted to enter Nottingham from the north so that we might be able to see a good amount of Sherwood Forest on the way." He nods his head to the trees around them.

"You...wanted to take the scenic route," Merlin nods, pretending to understand. He looks back to exchange amused glances with the knights, who are now listening. He smiles, "Becoming more in touch with your sensitive side, are you?"

"Shut up, Merlin."

"No, it's refreshing. Appreciating nature's beauty..."

"Merlin," Arthur warns.

"Embrace it, sire. This is a rare side of you we don't get to see very often. You know, maybe we could stop by the daisy fields on the way home." He jerks a thumb in its direction. "I hear they're in full bloom right now."

Arthur laughs, but it is not a comforting laugh. Not to Merlin. No, it is one to be followed with retribution, and that is always an unnerving prospect. He turns to Merlin, "You know, sometimes I think it is better to keep you uninformed about our expeditions. Maybe then he won't spoil anything, I think. How could he? All he has to do is follow along. But then you, being you, always manage to find a way. Questioning me on this or on that, challenging my decisions, suspecting I haven't thought everything through, the list goes on..."

"Does it?" Merlin adjusts his grip on the reins, glancing back at the knights this time with growing nerves.

"...thinking the worst, finding something to complain about, belittling my manhood. All because you don't know the plan." The king snaps his fingers. Pointing at Merlin, his voice raising in pitch, "And assuming I would want to go frolic in daisies with you!"

"I never said we had to frolic-"

"Would you like the truth of it all?"

"I always prefer the truth, yes."

"There are bandits in these woods," says Arthur, his eyes fixed on Merlin with a notable spark of mischief. Merlin can feel the blood drain from his cheeks, which his master must have noticed because a small grin of satisfaction forms on Arthur's lips. The forest around them suddenly holds an all new interest, or more accurately a threat, that Merlin must inspect. He scans the nearby landscape, but with hundreds of trees, there is no telling what all hides amongst them.

"Ah, that's better. I do love the sound of your silence." Arthur holds up a hand to signal his men to stop. He turns his horse to face them. "There is more to this peace treaty than a mere signature. The Steward, Lord Vaisey, has called on me for help. Bandits have been terrorizing the land ever since Bayard's death. Endangering travelers, stealing countless fortunes, aiding in the escape of captured criminals. These thieves are not to be taken lightly. They are lead by a notorious villain of a name not yet revealed to me."

"Robin Hood," Gwaine says immediately. All eyes turn to him. There is a moment of silence and Arthur cocks his head ever-so-slightly upon hearing the name, his eyes distant as if searching for something that isn't there. Gwaine must take the king's look as one of disapproval because he raises his hands in innocence. "We had a pint together once. Nothing binding."

Arthur shakes his head, though Merlin suspects it is not to dismiss Gwaine, but rather rid himself of a particular thought. "I should hope not. Because we are to bring...Hood and his men to justice." Arthur points to the trees. "Keep an eye out. Let us see what we are up against." He guides his horse back around to continue south, calling over his shoulder. "There is a stream not far ahead. We will stop to replenish our water supply!"

With a furrowed brow, Merlin catches up to Arthur, "Do you know that name? Robin Hood?"

"I can't say I do."

"Because when Gwaine said his name, you had a look like-"

"It's nothing. I was mistaken."

The horses bow their heads to drink from the shallow water that trickles over the stones of the riverbed. Alongside them are their riders, stooped down, dousing their faces and quenching their own thirsts. It is only another hour until they're upon the gates of Nottingham now, so the men do their best to make themselves presentable; some working more diligently on that matter than others. Not far off, Merlin sits on a boulder, working a bit of mud out of Arthur's red cloak and attempting to dry it in a beam of sunlight.

"Do you suppose they'll have a feast waiting for us?" Elyan asks with more longing than curiosity. Sir Percival dries his face before standing to stretch his legs.

"They had better if they know what's good for them."

"Ah, you forget!" Gwaine says, reclining back on the grassy bank. "We always have Merlin, the master chef, to come to our aid." He flashes Merlin a cheeky grin.

Merlin, lost in his thoughts, is made aware of the knights laughing at his expense. He lifts his head to join in their mirth, smiling a bit too broadly for it to be sincere, "Oh, absolutely! I know how much you gentlemen love to chomp on the hide of a nice fat rat."

"Well, we know Percival here does," Leon says, patting his friend on the back.

Elyan nods, "The man needs his protein."

"I have never had rat in my life!"

Gwaine is not fussed by the prospect, "I'm sure we all have at one time or another."

As the knights argue about who has or has not eaten rat in their life – though Merlin knows for a fact that they all have, multiple times, amongst other things best left unsaid – Merlin gathers Arthur's cape in his arms. He hikes back up the small bank toward where Arthur stands with his horse, repacking some of their provisions.

"I think I got out the last of it," he helps to fasten the cloak around Arthur's neck. Arthur inspects the fabric, looking to see where the stain once was.

"You have all the makings to be a fine housewife someday, Merlin." He smiles, giving him a hardy clap on the shoulder before turning to adjust the straps on his saddle. Merlin winces at the force of Arthur's appreciation.

"I already feel like one," he mutters beneath his breath.

"Come again?"

"I'm glad you're pleased, sire."

"Let us hope Lord Vaisey is as well," Arthur slips his gloves back on. "There is a lot riding on this. Giving even the slightest impression of being some unkempt child could weaken my credibility as a competent ally."

Even as he speaks, Merlin can see by the way Arthur's brow is knit tightly together and how he endlessly fidgets with his suit of armor that the young King of Camelot is nervous. "May I ask you a question?"

Arthur freezes in the middle of tightening a buckle, his face contorting. "Since when do you ask for permission? On anything?"

"It's just..." Merlin glances over his shoulder at the knights before lowering his voice, "Why does this duty have to fall upon you?"

"You really haven't a clue what it means to be king, do you?"

"Something doesn't feel right. Mercia is a proud kingdom, surely they would prefer to catch Robin Hood and his men on their own. Especially if he is a man decent enough to sit down and share a drink with Gwaine?"

Arthur raises an eyebrow at that, "I would not base a man's merit on his drinking history with Gwaine." He gives a smile. But Merlin doesn't.

"A king should not have to risk his life to show he is worthy of being an ally. Shouldn't Camelot's legacy speak for itself?"

"I don't expect you to understand. With Bayard gone, our treaty is null. I have to prove my worth to Lord Vaisey if he is to sign a new pact. And if that means bringing down a group of bandits, then so be it. I have faced far worse. And so have you." He grips Merlin's shoulder.

"You're certain this has nothing to do with Gwen?"

The sudden shift in conversation causes Arthur to retract his hand as though it had been placed on hot coals. "It has to do with peace, Merlin." His face is hard as stone, and a bitterness has fallen onto the edges of his words. "The well-being of my people. Nothing more. We have a strong army capable of vanquishing our foes, yes, but at what price? My soldiers are my responsibility too and they deserve just as much protection if I can give it. I cannot single-handedly defeat Essetir or Odin's men...or Mercia, for that matter," he motions towards Nottingham, "but I can bring peace. I can give them that. I can give them a little more security along our borders, and one less enemy to worry over. You should have more faith in me by now."

"You have all of my faith." Merlin shakes his head, "But your men are here to serve you. To ensure your safety. The knights could have come on their own. They represent you and all that you are. You are already making a difference in every corner of Albion with the knights as your hands. You didn't need to come here yourself."

Arthur paces away, "Did you hear nothing I just said?"

"I hear you," Merlin keeps his tone quiet for the sake of privacy, "but I also see you. Everyday, as it were. Staying to the training fields or the throne room. Avoiding the halls where she would walk by or the courtyard where you would see her fetching a fresh pail of water. You don't even like to be in your chambers. It was a place you two were supposed to share." Arthur says nothing, keeping his gaze off into the woods. Only the muscles tightening in his jaw give tell that he is hanging on Merlin's every word. The castle had become a prison of painful memories for the king; a place where his father, Uther, died, and where the woman he loved betrayed him with another man. Even now, almost a year later, as Arthur dines with Agravaine, Merlin sees the way he casts his gaze over the dining hall. Looking for her. For Gwen. Who was always there, ready to fill his empty glass in more ways than one. The walls of the castle had become a vice, pinching in and suffocating him.

"You didn't come to prove yourself," Merlin continues. "You came to free yourself...even if only for a little while. But you must think about this, Arthur. If Robin Hood is as dangerous as they say, think of all that you're risking for a momentary reprieve...your life, the life of Camelot, and all that you've-"

"Merlin, please," Arthur's voice turns sober. He's back. The expressionless form he takes on when consumed with pain, the shell that seems to be alive, but shows no vigor. He walks briskly to his horse and mounts. "We make for Nottingham!" As the knights hurry to gather themselves, Arthur casts his eyes down at Merlin. "I know you mean well, but speak of this again and you will sorely regret it." He urges his horse onward, putting distance between himself and the others.

Red fabric whips around Merlin as the knights take off after their king, their capes spilling out behind them. When Gwaine passes, however, he slows to give Merlin's downcast cheek a friendly pat.

"No need to fear. I won't let the bandits get you." He takes a thoughtful pause. "Then again, it's said Robin Hood never misses his target. Not much I can do for that I'm afraid, so let's just hope he doesn't go painting a bullseye on your back, eh?" With a wink Gwaine is in hot pursuit of the others, leaving Merlin to himself.

The young dragonlord cannot help but see that his destiny grows more difficult when matters of the heart come into play. He will have to make certain that in freeing and proving himself, Arthur isn't also successful in getting himself killed.

The crack of splintering wood fills the air. Merlin spins around. A lone twig tumbles from a nearby tree and lands at the base of the trunk. Any thought of Arthur's plight with Gwen has turned to the task at hand. He surveys the branches suspended above him, afraid of what he might find. Eventually dismissing it as paranoia, Merlin reaches blindly behind him for his horse, grabbing the horn of the saddle and mounting as quickly as he can.

Another twig breaks. He leans down to spur his horse on, "Reáchtáil ag luas mór!" His vision flashes gold and they take off at great speed down the path. Throwing one last glance over his shoulder, Merlin sees a nondescript figure jump down to the forest floor, landing in a crouch. Straightening his posture, the sun's rays backlight the man, revealing something in his hand. A bow.

Cheerful is not the word one would use to describe Nottingham. The towering, though weary walls are more of a deterrent than an enticement; as if they are attempting to repress something toxic from spreading, not protect something precious that lies within. It stops Merlin and the knights in their tracks. They sometimes forget how fortunate they are to call Camelot their home, but it is times like this, when the air seems heavier and the dirt darker, that they remember.

There are no friendly faces at the gates to greet them; no one is there to meet them at all, leaving Arthur and his men to navigate themselves through the congested market towards the castle that rests at the rear of the city. People mill about, but very few speak. Instead of voices filling the streets, geese honk and gabble from their pens outside of the poulterer's shop, the butcher's cleaver echoes with every slaughter, doors slam, horses' hooves clack, but there is little merriment. No laughter or spirited conversation. Not even the ruckus of a nearby tavern can be detected. A beggar, coughing harshly, falls into step beside Arthur's horse. His trembling hand caresses the fine leather of Arthur's boot.

"Move along, sir," Gwaine crowds the man with his horse, causing him to scurry away. Others take the man's place, sauntering closer and hovering near the group. The behavior is peculiar to Merlin until he admits that even he sometimes hopes to seek refuge beneath the shadow of a great oak.

"Sire, if you'll allow us..." Leon nods to Elyan to take the lead with him, protecting Arthur from the front, while Percival and Gwaine follow behind with Merlin. Arthur gives no response. He does not even seem to realize the six of them have become a spectacle, their bright red cloaks drawing the eyes of many. He is too busy taking in the sights and the faces of the citizens, blackened with grime and creased with despair, displaying the hard times that have fallen on Nottingham and, perhaps, all of Mercia. He waves at a few of the onlookers, and Merlin is pleased when they return his king's gesture with a smile.

A shrill cry pierces through the sky, painting it red with the setting sun. It sends people cowering into the nearest storefront or doorway and chills down Merlin's spine. The scream continues, and this time it is clear where it is coming from. Arthur breaks formation, riding hastily through the now vacant streets toward the castle.

"Arthur!" Merlin calls after him, though he knows it is in vain. He sets his horse off after him, the knights following close behind.

The gates to the castle courtyard are open, but the entrance is blocked by the masses of people surrounding the gallows that stand erect at the square's center and looms high above them. Arthur dismounts his horse, leading it closer. Over the heads of the crowd, Arthur can see a man stands trial beneath a slack noose, while his wife claws at the guard who attempts to tame her.

"Please!" She cries, struggling against the guard's strong grasp. "It was a gift! A gift! Please! It was given to him! He has done nothing wrong!"

At the top of the castle stairs is a throne being occupied by whom Arthur can only assume is the steward, Lord Vaisey. He is a graying man, with more hair on his chin than his head, and a golden tooth that reflects the sunlight when he grins. At his right hand, stands a tall and severe-looking man, all in black; his arms are crossed over his chest, and his eyes remain fixed on the woman, though they divert from time to time to a young lady standing by his side. They are backed by at least a dozens soldiers, also in black, and standing at attention. Arthur presses through the crowd to get a closer look.

"Tell me, do tell me," the steward says calmly, his posture slumped against the back of the throne, "if I were to accept a gift from Lucifer himself, would I still be a righteous man?" Without a beat to spare, flecks of spit fly from the corners of his mouth, "No!" He springs forward in his seat, his palms slamming down on the arms of the throne. The vein in his temple beats visibly, his face flushing maroon. "No!"

Arthur furrows his brow. This man, a steward of ill-manners and a quick temper, is all that stands between him and achieving peace with Mercia. It is quickly becoming clear that this will not be an ally easily gained. He feels a pair of eyes on him, and notices the man in black looking directly at him from his position up front. The man turns away from the crowd to address Vaisey in private. As the steward listens to the man, Arthur can see Vaisey slowly gaining control again, and his eyes begin searching. For him.

"Arthur!" Merlin grabs his shoulder, appearing beside him, and Arthur glances back to see the knights have joined him as well, all with their horses in tow.

"What is this?" Merlin strains to see the source of the cries they heard.

"A terrible start," Arthur mutters to keep others from hearing.

The steward of Mercia stands, a smile suddenly plastered on his face. He throws out his arms in a grand gesture, causing the man in black to duck and spare his nose from harm, "Ladies and gentlemen! A brief intermission is in order! It has come to my attention that our guests have arrived!" Lord Vaisey initiates a round of applause, which the man in black reluctantly joins in on, giving two claps before crossing his arms once more. "All the way from the shining kingdom of Camelot: King Arthur and his knights!"

The entire courtyard turns their focus to the men in red, who smile politely, giving nods of appreciation. Arthur steps forward to address the steward, attempting to maintain his pleasant demeanor amidst an execution, for which a woman still grieves.

"My apologies. It seems we arrived at a time of great inconvenience."

"Oh pish-posh! Out with the old, in with the new!" Vaisey throws a hand toward the man at the gallows then another toward Arthur. "Not the most joyous of welcomes I admit," Vaisey takes a look around. "But festive nonetheless, don't you agree? Come, Your Majesty! Join us on the stairs." He snaps his fingers. "Gisbourne!"

The man dressed in black motions to a few of his men, "Take their horses to the stables, get them fed!" The soldiers, once still as statues, break into motion, descending the stairs and approaching the men of Camelot. Arthur hands the reins over before going to meet the steward properly. He walks across the courtyard, the spectators dipping into bows as he passes them by. Distracted by their admiration, Arthur does not notice Lord Vaisey, who is not handling the people's show of respect quite as gladly. He is still smiling broadly, but it looks as if his jaw might shatter if he clenches his teeth any tighter. Arthur offers a few more nods to the onlookers.

Ascending the stairs, he clasps the steward's arm in greeting, "Your people show great consideration. I am honored by their reception."

"Yes, yes, as I had hoped you would be." While the steward goes on to boast about his people, a feminine whisper comes from beside Gisbourne.

"This is King Arthur?"

He smirks down at the young lady, "Not so impressive in person, is he?"

Arthur is too busy trying to look engaged at what Lord Vaisey is saying to take note of the offense directed his way. When the steward suddenly stops talking and his brow furrows, Arthur exchanges an uncertain glance with Merlin.

"My Lord?"

"I am overcome with the strange sensation that I am forgetting something. What is it?" He squints as he looks to the sky, snapping his fingers repeatedly. "What is it? What is it?" He hits Gisbourne's chest in frustration.

Gisbourne lets out a breath, "My lord..."

"Oh yes, that's right" He points to the man waiting at the gallows. "Hang him." Smiling at Camelot's king, his gold tooth gleams once again. "Come inside." He turns on his heels to lead the way.

But finding her strength once more, the woeful woman lurches from the guards' grasp, running up the stairs and knocking Merlin off his feet to get to Arthur. Percival catches her around the waist before she can do anything but grab the hem of Arthur's cape.

"Please!" she gasps, "Help us! Have mercy!"

Bewildered, Arthur quickly checks on Merlin, who is being helped up by Elyan and the young lady, before turning his attention to the woman, "I'm sorry, but your steward has spoken. There is nothing I can do."

"You are King Arthur!" She says. "Your reputation precedes you, and I have heard of your mercy. I see it in your eyes! I see the compassion. Even now. Will you not help us? Will you not save his life from such an injustice?"

"You think you would find favor beneath the reign of King Arthur?" Vaisey appears at Arthur's shoulder, his venomous tone causing the hair on the back of the king's neck to stand up. "That he is more noble and just than I am?"

The air among them becomes thick, making the tension known to the knights, who hover closely beside Arthur, their hands resting casually on the hilts of their swords.

"She's desperate," Arthur says, hoping to offer reason. "That's all. If she sees an ounce of hope anywhere, she will cling to it."

"Hope," Lord Vaisey nods, taking a step down to be closer to the woman. He grabs her chin, "Shall we seek a second opinion on your husband's behalf?" The woman lets out a sob of relief as she nods. He curls a lip, "Very well then."

Arthur opens his mouth to speak, but only shuts it, his lips pressing together in a slight grimace. There is not an outcome he can see where both the man walks away with his life and Camelot walks away with a peace treaty. Lord Vaisey paces in front of the people, his hands clasped behind his back.

"This will be quick," he says. "I assure you all of that. Go on, tell the king what happened."

"You are the governing voice here," Arthur insists. "This is not necessary."

"Oh, come come," Vaisey grins. "Where is your sense of fun, hmm?"

The woman fiddles with the bit of fabric from Arthur's cloak she still holds in her hands, her eyes refusing to meet anyone's. Arthur rubs his forehead before finally motioning for Percival to release her. He pulls his cloak free from her grip and rests his hands on her shoulders.

"What is your name?"

"Catraine."

"And your husband's?"

Her lip quivers at the very thought of him, "Brom, sire." She finally plucks up enough courage to meet his gaze, though she cannot hold it for long. "We, our family, was starving. Taxes were collected just a few days ago, we had no money left for food. But we awoke this morning to that basket on our doorstep." She points down the stairs to where a basket, frayed and smashed, lays with fresh produce and baked goods littered around it. "My husband was the one to discover it. He brought it into the house. That's it. Nothing more."

"Blah-dee-blah-dee-blah," Lord Vaisey says with a tired drawl. "You leave out the most important detail, my sweet. Yes, tell King Arthur the name of the man behind the gift."

"It was...it was Robin Hood, sire."

"There. You see?" Vaisey leans in close to the woman's face, sniffing like a dog. "She reeks of treason. Luckily! I am chivalrous, and have generously allowed her neck to be spared."

Arthur releases the woman, hesitating before deciding to speak, "Forgive me, my lord, but the only thing I see is a family in need of nourishment. I do not think they had malicious intent."

"If it is nourishment they desire, they can buy it!"

"With what money!?" The young lady elbows her way out from behind the men.

"Marian," Gisbourne grabs her arm, but she wrenches it loose to stand beside Arthur, who studies her intently as she talks.

"Any money they have is going to your taxes." Her strong voice and resolute demeanor, the kindness in her eyes that cannot be overshadowed by her anger, and the curls around her face that shake as her temper grows...it all strikes at a memory he can't quite grasp. "You're forcing them to seek the help you should be providing from other people. You cannot punish them for that."

"My dear, you may want to control that tongue before I cut it out." He pouts, "It would be a shame though, wouldn't it? I know Gisbourne would not approve."

Gisbourne grabs her more firmly, pulling her back by his side.

"Lord Vaisey, perhaps a warning would be sufficient to handle this minor offense," suggests Arthur. "They show remorse for what they..." He trails off when Lord Vaisey begins wagging a finger.

"Hmm, no, I have a better idea," he says. "I am going to ask you a question. Just one, little, tiny question. But your answer to that question shall serve as his charge, and he will receive the sentence attached to that charge. Are we in agreement?"

"I..." Arthur hesitates, glancing to a few of the people around him. He hopes to find encouragement from Merlin, but only finds the all too familiar panic being taken out on the lip that he is biting down on. It is the face of Catraine that spurs him on, her eyes wide with hopeful expectation and waiting with bated breath for his answer.

He reluctantly gives Vaisey a nod, "If that would please you."

"Excellent!" Lord Vaisey claps his hands together. Percival, gently takes Catraine's arm, pulling her away to give the two men more space. "In Camelot," Vaisey begins, "I hear you have a nuisance of your own there."

Arthur nods, "A few, you could say."

"A sorceress by the name of...oh, what is it? Lady Morgana! Yes, that's it." Arthur's body stiffens at her name, bringing a small grin to Vaisey's lips. "You knew her quite well then, as I should hope, she did grow up in the palace with you. Almost like a sister, you would say. Lovely girl. Truly." The king offers no words on the matter, so Vaisey continues, "Then...something happened, as it always does, and things changed, as they always do. She has developed a certain hatred for you. Well, loathes you, actually. Aw...your own sister. There is not a kingdom in Albion who isn't aware of that. And she felt the same towards your father, though he's no problem to her now, of course. Pity."

Arthur swallows hard, feeling his cheeks begin to burn, but he settles into a wider stance, keeping his eyes fixed on Vaisey, who delights in going on, "An accomplishment on her part, I imagine. I am sure it is not easy to penetrate the walls of Camelot, but she managed it, though I hear she often uses other people to do her bidding. Hmm, I do wonder where she finds these people, so willing to risk their lives and make an attack against you. Another betrayal that surely stings, and rightfully so. If I am being honest, how you manage to trust anyone is beyond me." His grin widens after Arthur's gaze lowers to the ground in contemplation and his posture weakens. Arthur feels movement behind him as Merlin steps forward to speak, but the strong hand of Leon stops him from causing any further trouble.

Vaisey gives pause to Merlin before stepping in closer to Arthur, tilting his head back to see into the face of the king, "Rumor has it, it has become her daily goal to kill you, Arthur Pendragon. To bring down your kingdom and sit upon the throne herself. To wipe away all that your father has done to create a peaceful and prosperous Camelot, and all that you are currently doing to further improve it, to make the sacrifices you have both made stand for nothing, so that it may be torn down and rebuilt to reflect her values, her power." Lord Vaisey shakes his head, pretending not to notice the heavy rise and fall of Arthur's chest as the words begin to take effect.

"It is a threat," Vaisey says, "that must bare down heavily on your young shoulders. If you do not stop her, not only will you lose your own life, but the lives of your people, your knights, of everyone you love; they will all fall under her reign. Into a life of enslavement, if not death. And yet here you are, you continue to endure this encroaching shadow of terror. Every day, watching over your shoulder, wondering if today is the day she strikes again, and if you can even withstand another attack. Wondering if today will be the day that you fail as king. All because of this one woman. This one infallible enemy."

Arthur shows no shame, raising his eyes to meet Vaisey's, and though they brim with tears, he does not allow a single one to shed, "And the question, my lord steward?"

"If Lady Morgana were to bestow a gift of, oh I don't know, food perhaps to one of the citizens of Camelot. And they received her gift gladly. Open arms. Without any hesitation." He steps right up to Arthur, raising his eyebrows, "Without any thought of you. Or Camelot. Aw...and you found out. With one word, just one little word...tell us, what would you charge them with?"

There is nowhere Arthur can look to find an answer that would spare this man's life, but he casts his gaze over the waiting crowd anyway. All of these people who have heard of his benevolence, and willingness to pass grace instead of judgment, how would they look upon him if he allowed the only word currently on his tongue to slip and sentence this man to death?

Merlin's soft voice breaks through his muddled thoughts, "He's manipulating you, Arthur, do-"

"I am helping you to see reason!" Lord Vaisey spits, in a poor attempt to contain his anger. "If you or I allow those consorting with our enemies to go freely, we will lose everything we have worked for! And our enemies will only gain one more foot in the door. Is that what you want?"

"No, of course not."

"Then we need to promote loyalty!" The steward turns to his people and points at Brom. "That man has betrayed me. He has befriended one who would ruin Nottingham if he had the chance! And in doing so he has proclaimed where his allegiance truly lies! Therefore, I find you guilty of-" he flourishes a hand towards Arthur, prompting him to give his one word answer.

"Of..." Arthur shakes his head ruefully, "Treason."

A shrill cry escapes Catraine as her legs give out beneath her, collapsing into Percival's arms, which easily catch her before she hits the harshness of the brick steps. Lord Vaisey smiles.

"You heard the king," he shrugs innocently. "Hang him!" The crowd erupts in a flurry of voices, some crying out for Brom, others yelling against the steward, and still others shout to express their outrage over Arthur's uncharacteristic proclamation against the downtrodden.

The noose is tightened around Brom's neck, and a guard prepares to disengage the floor beneath him. Arthur cannot bring himself to watch. He tries to divert his attention from the fated man, from the disappointed faces of those around him, when he notices someone on top of the courtyard walls. Squinting against the setting sun, he sees the figure draw back on his bow, but does not have enough time to even let out a yell of warning.

The arrow strikes the gallows, shredding the rope that held Brom's noose, drawing out more screams from the spectators. The archer fixes his bow over a rope tether, jumping from the wall and flying down to the gallows. Nottingham's soldiers launch into action, while Gisbourne tries to wrangle Marian inside and out of harm's way. The steward cowers behind Gisbourne until he can reach the safety of the castle doorway.

"It's Hood! Shut the gates!" He yells, only his head poking out from behind the door now. "Shut the bloody gates! Find him! Kill him! Kill him!"

A handful of men leap out of the crowd, bearing arms. The people quickly shy back, desperate to get away lest they become collateral damage, but it is too late. The gates leading out of the courtyard have already been sealed. As the knights of Camelot draw their swords, Arthur shoves Merlin down behind the back of the throne, pointing sternly at him.

"Stay out of sight!" He races down the stairs before Merlin can even respond. The first outlaw he comes across is enthusiastic, albeit a little petite with a bandana covering his ginger head.

"We are Robin Hood!" He pumps his fist into the air, turning just in time to realize he is being charged at by the King of Camelot. Letting out a yell of surprise, he brings up his blade to block the oncoming assault. He twists their blades free and swings at Arthur who jumps back. The tip of the small man's blade only manages to cut the fabric of Arthur's tunic. Arthur swings high. It's blocked. His opponent kicks him roughly in the gut, sending him stumbling back. As he tries to regain his footing, the small man takes a swing at him. Grabbing the man's arm, Arthur thrusts him around, throwing him to the ground, knocking the wind out of him as he lands on his back. He strikes down at him, but the small man blocks again using both hands on the hilt of his sword. Arthur, seeing the grimace on the small man's face and feeling the waver in his arm, presses harder against him, knowing he will soon give. His opponent huffs and puffs as he tries to push him away, but to no avail, Arthur is much too big for him. The man's wild eyes shift from Arthur to just over Arthur's shoulder; a smile of relief comes to his face.

Another man comes up behind Arthur, choking him with a giant rod as he pins him back against his chest by his neck. Arthur sputters for air. He can tell by the meaty, hairy arms holding the rod that this new opponent is not quite as small. He may even be a challenge for Percival. Still close enough to reach, Arthur kicks the smaller man in the gut and into a Nottingham soldier, who keeps him occupied. The rod presses harder against his throat and it is all Arthur can do to keep breathing. He thrusts the hilt of his sword into his opponent's ribs, drawing out a pain-filled grunt that only seems to give the man more vitality.

"Arthur!" Merlin's voice is distant, though not distant enough to insure he has stayed out of harm's way, but it is not something that Arthur can allow himself to be distracted by.

With a loud crack, Arthur is suddenly able to draw breath as the rod snaps in half right where his throat had been. He shoves himself away from the man's chest, spinning around to face his opponent. The large bear of a man stands in awe, looking dumbfounded by the broken pieces of staff in his hands. Arthur, coughing in an attempt to regain his breath, is just as impressed. He was certain his neck would break before the likes of a rod that thick would.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Merlin sprint past him and into the crowd. He whirls around in an attempt to grab the loose back of his jacket, but the growl of the bear draws his focus back to the task at hand.

"Merlin!" Arthur calls out angrily before turning to block one of the splintered halves of the rod. He uses his forearm to block the other half that swings at him. "Bloody fool," he mutters to himself, knowing Merlin was no warrior, and likely to get himself killed.

"I know a few of those," the man says gruffly before using all of his might to shove Arthur flat on his back. Arthur rolls over to avoid being struck, then rolls the opposite direction to spare himself once more. When he looks to his opponent, he notices that something is pulling his attention to the front gates.

"Well, it's time for me to go," the bear-like man tosses the broken pieces of rod to the ground.

Arthur furrows his brow, never hearing a more ridiculous statement in the middle of a fight. He swings his blade at the man, who catches the arm wielding his sword with one hand and punching him violently in the face with the other. Casually stepping over Arthur, he makes for the castle gates.

After getting himself reoriented, Arthur scrambles to his feet to see what is going on. In front of the closed gate stands, who Arthur can only assume, is Robin Hood. Beside him are his men, along with Catraine and Brom. But most alarming is who Robin holds hostage with a knife to his throat: Merlin.

"Raise the gates!" Robin demands. His eyes are fixed on Lord Vaisey, who has reemerged along with Marian. "Let us and these two innocent people go, or this boy dies."

The steward lets out a boisterous laugh, "Of all the people here, you choose a servant to hold at ransom?" His laugh suddenly ceases. "Um, no. Go ahead and kill him."

"No!" Arthur shouts, holding a steady hand out to Robin, "Let him go." He turns his head to address the steward. "Just let them go. Let them have one last victory. We'll put everything right in the end. I promise you."

Lord Vaisey curls a lip, "He's just a grubby servant boy."

"I'm here to prove my worth to you as an ally," Arthur says. "The least you can do is lend me your faith in return by sparing my manservant and trusting that I will do as I promised."

He sighs dramatically, waving a hand towards the gatekeepers "Oh, alright. Spare the poor boy. Raise the gates! But he is your problem now, my dear King."

Arthur slips his sword back into his sheath, approaching Robin and Merlin. The gate clicks as it starts lifting behind them.

"Your men are good fighters, they will prove to be a challenge," Robin grins, a glint of arrogance in his eyes. Arthur says nothing, only looks to Merlin, making certain the skin on his neck has not been broken by Robin's blade. "Don't worry. He is unscathed."

"Robin, let's go," the bear of a man slips through the opening beneath the gate with the others.

Waiting until everyone has made it out safely, Robin shoves Merlin into Arthur with a broad smile, "It's nice to see you again, Wart."