Does He Understand Flight, the Pale One?

Chapter One

It was late one afternoon and the sun was beginning to set deep within Sherwood Forest, home of Robin Hood and his band of thieves. All was quiet as what appeared to be a lone traveler wearing a hooded cloak and driving a cart was trying to pass through without trouble, knowing just how dangerous these woods could be, or more likely how dangerous those who lived there could be to a complete stranger should the stranger be carrying money intended for lining the Sheriff of Nottingham's pockets.

Unfortunately trouble came, though not in the form of the outlaws expected. A small group of the Sheriff's soldiers on horseback came riding through on the same path as the traveler and upon seeing that the stranger to these woods was alone, the three men slowed their animals and turned back to bring the horse pulling the cart to a stop, while the outsider, whose face remained hidden beneath the cloak, stayed seated.

One of the soldiers spoke up first saying coolly, "It isn't wise to drive a wagon through this forest all alone. There are thieves and killers that live amongst these trees."

The traveler wearily, yet firmly replied, "The only thieves and killers I see are the men standing before me and keeping me from my journey. Let me pass, or I promise you, you will wish that you had."

"Who are you to speak to the Sheriff's men like that?" another of the men responded angrily as he grabbed hold of the stranger's wrists and roughly pulled him down to the ground, then swiftly yanked off the hood so that they could see who they were speaking to.

"You're a woman?" the same soldier stated in surprise upon seeing the stranger's face and eyes as she stared up at him coldly, despite the pain she felt as his grip tightened on her.

The third soldier dismounted from his horse and moved to stand beside his comrades as he added, "She is a Saracen. What kind of journey brings filth such as you here to our country, woman? Your kind does not belong here."

The Saracen finally pulled her wrist free from the man's grasp and slowly stood as she heartbreakingly answered, "I have come to bury my husband. I may be from the Holy Land, but he is English and once lived here in Sherwood Forest. It is where he would wish his body to be laid to rest, now that he has passed on."

"Oh really, well we'll just see about that," one of the men replied again cruelly as he moved toward the back of the wagon and was about to pull back the blankets covering the body until the traveler quickly rushed to stand between them and the cart to prevent them from doing so.

"No stop!" she called out. "You cannot touch him. Don't even get near him or you will risk falling ill as he did; risk death. Is that what you want? My husband died of the plague and though he was a strong man, he could not fight it off. He died slowly and in agony. I doubt you want to die the same way."

The man who attempted to go near the cart swiftly backed away as he glanced over at her and responded worryingly, "If he really died of the plague, how is it that you're still alive and unaffected?"

She sadly answered, "Believe me, I have asked Allah the same question many times and still have yet to receive any answer."

"I see," the soldier, who appeared to have taken charge said curtly, then turned to the other men and motioned for them to do as he ordered. "Set fire to the wagon and be sure that the body burns, as well as everything else. We will bring the woman back with us to the castle, to the Sheriff. He will want to speak to her himself about how she survived when few others live."

The Saracen tried to fight against the men when they swiftly took her prisoner as she cried out in fear, "No! You can't… Please! No!"

As soon as one of the men lit one of their torches, which they carried with them in case night fell before they could return to the palace, and was about to touch the fire to the cart, a flock of white pigeons suddenly flew above their heads as an arrow soared dangerously close past the soldier's cheek, slicing him as it did, and became embedded into the soldier's hand, successfully knocking the torch to the ground before the fire could burn the wagon carrying the precious load.

The man screamed in pain as he and the others, including the woman, all turned around in shock to see at least five bandits as they began to charge at them from the trees, the leader of the group wielding a bow as he notched another arrow and let it fly, this time hitting the man who was holding the Saracen in his shoulder to get him to release her.

One of the soldiers shouted out, "Robin Hood! Kill them!"

"I think you lot are a bit outnumbered," Allan replied as he easily knocked one of the wounded men down by striking his head with the hilt of his sword, while John fought against the man with an arrow in one hand, his own sword in the other, and Much worked to put out the fire that burned hotter once it hit the ground. "Just go ahead and kill him already, John."

"There's no need to kill them," Robin responded coolly as he forced his own attacker, the soldier who took charge of the men, back against the side of the wagon, by thrusting the tip of his blade up against his throat. "Not unless they leave us with no other option. Go back to Nottingham to tend to your wounds and tell Vaisey whatever you wish, but if you, or anymore of the Sheriff's men return to Sherwood and try to threaten one of my friends again, my men and I will kill all of you. Am I making myself clear?"

The two men still standing upright quickly made their way over to their third to help him off the ground, glared back at Robin Hood and his men, and finally took off running through the woods toward Nottingham without their horses, then the woman let out a sigh of relief while she looked at the woodsmen now standing before her and ran into the leader's arms as she exclaimed, "Robin! Thank Allah, I have found you."

Robin hugged her back tightly as he whispered, "Djaq. It is good to see you again. But so soon?"

"Is it true?" Much asked sadly as he looked at their Saracen friend in confusion. "Is Will really dead?"

"Will!" she suddenly cried out again as she pushed away from Robin and ran back to the cart, then quickly climbed up into it to pull back the blankets, as the men looked on, even more confused than before.

As she looked fearfully upon the unconscious and severely ill man whom she loved very deeply and had married only two weeks ago while still in the Holy Land, running her hands gently along his face and his chest, she answered worryingly, "He is still alive, but only just. I only told the Sheriff's men he died of the plague…"

Brother Tuck moved over to the wagon and offered his help to the woman he did not yet know as he finished for her, "In order to keep them back and from learning that he was still among the living, very smart thinking."

"Yeah, only until it backfired and they tried to finish him off anyway by setting the cart on fire," Much replied gruffly, getting rewarded with an immediate punch to his shoulder from John for his momentary lack of sympathy, who then also moved to the wagon as he, Tuck, and Djaq carefully pulled Will down from the wagon so that they would be free to take care of him properly once they arrived back at the outlaws' camp just over the hill from where the previous battle took place.

"So, how did this happen?" Robin asked their friend as he helped Djaq walk, having noticed how exhausted she was, while John carried Will gently within his arms. "How long ago…?"

Tears fell as she responded sadly, "It's a long story. I will explain, but first I need to tend to his fever and his wounds."

Robin nodded as he looked between his men, then stopped his eyes upon the deathly still form of Will Scarlett and answered, "Of course. You both are safe here, Djaq. No matter what it is you're running from, you're safe. And if we can, I promise you we will make those responsible for this pay."