Outlaws Camp

"We must help my master, not chatter like schoolgirls this day." Much scolded Allan.

"I know, I know." Allan whispered, digging his palms into his forehead. "But if y' have any idea where he's gone, and how to save him, feel free and rush on over there and stop him." Allan was sure Much would come back with a perfectly 'stinging' remark, but as he opened his mouth, John spoke.

"He's after Gisbourne. He'll go to Nottingham. Gisbourne lives there now. We go to Nottingham. We save Robin, and knock some sense into him. Then we feed the poor." Allan looked stunned. He hadn't been quite sure that John was able to express such a long phrase.

"I agree with John." Spoke out Will.

"It is settled then. We go to Nottingham." Djaq accepted

Nottingham

Robin crept quietly over the thatched roofs of the line of houses parallel with Nottingham Castle. A flash of an arrow took care of a guard, and Robin was sliding over the windowsill, into the long hallway overlooking the gallows in the square. Robin had never been in Gisbournes room before; he was usually holding the knife to the sheriff's throat. And Robin would never be holding the knife to Guys throat. He would be cutting it.

A swish of black fabric came from behind Robin, signaling the presence of a guard. Robin's sword was in his hand as he pivoted, and ran the guard through. Rules did not matter to him anymore. Blood mattered. Gisbournes.

Robin carefully opened the door to Gisbournes room. Most likely, Guy's heart took after the rest of him, Robin thought, noticing the articles of leather and black clothing strewn across the room. Of course, that was taking into consideration that he had one. Guys windows were barred, most likely to stop robbers and murderers coming in that way. So he does notice who he kills Robin considered. He does notice how many people want to murder him. Too bad he doesn't have better guards.

He slipped over to his bedside, and drew out along, wickedly curved blade. He was so intent on his blade, and the open expansion of Guys throat, that he didn't notice the muscular guard stealthily

sliding towards him. And when he did, it was too late.

Tavern Outside of Nottingham

"Allan! We should not be stopping here! We need to save my master this instant. It is almost afternoon. My master has been in there since morning." Much cried, close to hysteria.

Allan sucked in a breath. "I know, and you should have listened when I had already explained it to you. We're stopping at the tavern to gather information, to see where the 'ell Robin is. There's no use storming Gisbournes quarters if Robins in the dungeon. If any place'll know, this'll be the one."

Resignedly, Much dropped into a seat. "I still don't see why-oh…" He stopped in midsentence, as a waitress sashayed up. She had short brown hair (odd for the time, but it still suited her thought Allan and Much); a dark green dress that Allan personally liked on her, and was carrying drinks in one hand.

"Can I get you gents a drink?" She said with a giggle.

They obliged, and she set the drinks down.

"Y' can pay me later." She said, and slid off to the next table.

"Wait!" Cried Allan. "We need a spot of gossip from you." She turned around with a hint of annoyance on her face, which she quickly wiped off. Allan was sure he had imagined it.

"Yes?" She turned and glided back to the table.

"Are you familiar with the outlaw 'Robin Hood'?" asked Much.

"Yes." She said, with a grim look clouding her elfish face. "He's to hang the 'morrow at sunset. The sheriff means to make a show of it."

Much's eyes widened, but then took on a steely glint. "And may I presume he is being kept in the Nottingham dungeon?"

"Yep." Was her reply.

"That is all we need. Thank You." Said Much, a bit preoccupied. She walked away.

"I have an idea…" said Djaq, but before she could finish, Allan interrupted.

"Hang it, I do believe I have lost my money bag."

"Trust a thief to lose what he most wants." Said Much, but he broke off as he felt around his waist. "We've been robbed!" He pronounced. The other outlaws soon realized that they were in the same predicament.

"I cannot believe it. We, who give to the poor, taken from!" Exclaimed Djaq.

"But who did it?" said Will softly, peering around.

Before anyone could reply, an uproar came from a table of rich nobleman.

"Stop! Thief!" They cried, pointing at the girl who had served them drinks.

"I don't believe it." whispered Much "All the good ones are spies or thieves."

A guard appeared out of a dingy side room, adjusting his helmet. He drew a sword. The girl reached into her pocket, and pulled out a small dagger. Shedding her dress, she gave the impression of being dressed in men's clothing. With a whistle, she threw the dagger, and it buried itself in the chest of the guard. Allan's eyes widened, as he looked out the window, and saw around twenty-five guards marching up the road, led by a man clad in black leather. A small crowd rushed out to watch the events in excitement, and the gang was swept along with it.

"We have been looking for a long time for this one." Shouted Gisbourne. "She has robbed many and killed others. The girl drew one, no two, swords from her side and raised them. It was a sight to behold as the guards attacked her. She darted, here-there as quick as a shadow, taking care of many of the guards. She reached Gisbourne, and offensively attacked him. She seemed to have the upper hand, slitting his cheek and arm. But she didn't notice the guard who came up behind her and wholloped her on the head with the butt end of his sword.

She sprawled into the dust, trickling blood from slices and scrapes, unconscious.

"She hangs with Robin tomorrow." He cried, and the crowd cheered.

Gisbourne slung her over the back of his horse, and rode off into the afternoon sun. The gang looked at each other. John groaned. "We're saving her too, aren't we?"

Allan could only nod.