Robin Hood BBC: God Save the Queen

Chapter 2: Wise men

-- Outlaw's camp--

Will Scarlett couldn't erase the small smile on his face as he spread some wax on wood that had replaced on their 'roof'. He was careful to make sure the wax would go on every inch of the wood to keep the water out. He smirked amused at the thought that Nature was an odd odd lady. How could England have so much rain for most of the year and the Holy Land devoid of it? It practically only stopped raining when it was summer but then there was the sticky hot dew to contend with. Will stood on the wood to see if he had done it right. His smile brightened when he saw that he indeed had made it right with wax to spare.

He was about to climb down to solid ground when a drop of liquid fell on his head. His hand immediately reached to touch the spot to make sure it was water. When he retrieved his hands and saw that it was, he paused looking at the half block of wax he still had in his hand. He bit his lower lip with uncertainty and returned to his previous undertaking. He took his axe from his belt to chop off a little bit more wax to rub in the wood. One couldn't be too careful.

Besides, what else is there to do on a lazy summer's day? He looked down to take a quick overview of the camp. Through the slits of wood, he can see Much cooking lunch. Allan was on his bunk sleeping. Little John was leaning against a tree sleeping as well. Will's smile grew even more when he saw Djaq sharpening her sword with a stone near the camp fire. He knew it was silly that she still had that effect on him after all the time they had spent alone in the Holy Land. But it was a pretty automatic reaction.

"Is it just me, or is it a slow day?" Robin's voice pulled him out of his thoughts. Will looked down to find the gang's leader looking up at him with a knowing smile. Will's own smile faded slightly with concern. There was indeed a smile on Robin's face and it did look like his usual cheeky one. But then it wasn't the same. The light just didn't reach his eyes. He hasn't seen since the Holy Land.

"It's a slow day." Will agreed with a shrug.

"Wrong!" Much walked out to stand beside Robin to join the conversation with the carpenter. "It's a good day. And not the way John says it. It's just a good day." He grinned. "The sun is shining. The sky is blue. It's not cold. It's not terribly hot. The sheriff has been quiet. The mercenaries are gone from Locksley. The people are returning and well. We've finished the drops. No reports of anybody being tortured or hanged or what not. And we have food. All that before lunch. It must be some sort of record." Much said almost triumphantly. "In fact, I change my mind. Today is not a good day. Today is a great day."

Robin chuckled. "But it's a slow day." He repeated like it was an argument.

"What does that even mean? 'It's a slow day.'" Much replied. "So what if it's a slow day. We get to enjoy the day for once."

Djaq headed over to where they were congregating watching her love work. "What's going on?" She asked slightly confused. She's never seen the other outlaws so interested in wood work before. Something told her that it wasn't the wood or the man they were concerned about.

"Slow day, my love." Will answered with tinge of embarrassment when he let the affectionate term slip out of habit.

Djaq nodded with slight concern. "Yes, I was thinking the same."

Much gave the three outlaws a look of disbelief. "Am I the only one who thinks it's good that it's a slow day. We can play games to pass the time. We get to eat without being disturbed by the sheriff or someone in distress. When was the last day you had the time to just lay out in the sun and relax. And on a day like this." He answered pointing at the clear sky above the leafy forest canopy.

The camp's alarm rang before anyone could answer Much. Will started to make his way down while Allan and Little John woke up automatically. Robin gave his former servant a cheeky smile and a shrug. Much rolled his eyes part from shock and part from disbelief. "Why? Why does this always happen?" He complained.
--

--Sherwood Forest--

"For heaven's sake, if you stay still you won't get hurt as much, Father Benedict." A priest said to his older chubbier companion hanging on a rope. He took the horses by the reigns tying them to a low branch so that they wouldn't run free with their belongings without them. Then he inspected the tree his friend was in and winced. There were no low branches that he could use to climb it. He probably could scale it if he were in normal clothing but priestly robes limited his movements.

The struggling priest became still letting himself swing and twist freely. He closed his eyes as nausea started to set in. "Mark, do something to get me down. I think I'm getting sick." He said in a weak tone. He couldn't see the evidence of his swinging anymore but he felt it. Closing his eyes didn't help. In fact, it just made him dizzier.

Father Mark shrugged helplessly. "I have no knife with me to cut you down, sir. And I don't want to leave you here alone. What if there are animals?" He took a concerned step forward. "What if there are... outlaws?" He asked in a lower tone.

"And he said, "Ask and you shall receive."" A voice suddenly announced.

Father Mark turned placed a hand on his head before turning to face the inevitable in frustration. He watched as men came out from the trees and shrubs with weapons at the ready. They all went down to their location quickly and in utmost silence. He placed both his hands up in defeat knowing he could not fight what ensued next. He counted six of them in total. One of them, a Saracen, just sheathed her sword. He shook his head in dismay. "Outlaws." He muttered.

"If you're quoting scripture dear boy," Father Benedict said in the same small voice, "I want you to remember another line. From the Exodus-- "Let my people go."" He quoted in a pleading tone.

Allan saw Robin chuckle lightly. He didn't understand how the other man could find humour in this situation yet he could only see the consequences. He placed his hands on his hips confused. "Not being funny Robin, but I think we should let him down now. I don't want to get smitten by God anytime soon. Priests having a direct connection to heaven and all." He said looking to his other companions for support.

Robin gave the priests a smug grin while crossing his arms. "Oh, we'll let the good father down. Will? John? If you would do the honours of bringing that man back to Earth." The two outlaws readily followed his orders. Slowly, the man was lowered back to the ground as gently as possible. The priest stumbled to stand up. Will stepped forward to loosen the knot on the rope so that the priest could go free before standing back to give their prisoners some room.

Father Mark rushed to his companion's side making sure that he was unharmed. He looked at Robin upset. "Are you mad boy? Trapping people like that? That is not the Christian way." He chastised.

"Alms then?" Robin suggested putting out a cupped hand. "It is for the poor of Nottingham." He added when he saw the priests just stare incredulously at him.

It was Much's turn to interrupt. "Master, are you sure? I hate to admit it but Allan is right. They're in the Holy Order. Remember? Ordained? God? Ring a bell?" He reminded their leader.

"I'm just asking for alms for the poor." Robin defended innocently. "That IS the Christian way. To give to the less fortunate. Which, I will remind you, is what we do." He turned his attention back to the priests. "I promise you on my life that it is what we do. Now, alms?" He asked again.

Father Benedict straightened out his black robes and cap. "Apologies... Robin is it? We are simple priests on our way to Nottingham town. We have nothing to offer except the bible in my bag and prayers." He smiled. "And I promise you that in God's name." He swore crossing himself quickly.

Robin examined the two well dressed priests but was not convinced. "Check them." He ordered with a tilt of his head.

Father Mark let his jaw drop taking a step back. "Nottingham IS a godless place." He commented with disbelief.

Robin ignored the comment. But when he heard and saw no movement from the gang, he turned slightly so the prisoner and the gang was in his field of vision. "What?" He asked.

"Priest, we do not rob." John pointed out.

"And he swore by God. It has to be true." Will followed.

Robin saw Allan raise both his hands up taking a few steps back showing his dissent. Much shook his head. "Djaq?" He called out.

Djaq shook her head as well. "Holy men are Holy men in any religion." She reasoned.

Robin threw his hands in the air with a sigh of defeat. "Apparently, my gang here still have the fear of God in them. You should be happy. There are five less people to evangelize." Robin announced disappointed. He took several steps to the side of the road. "You have safe passage to Nottingham." He declared stepping aside.

The two quickly untied their horses from the tree. Father Mark helped his friend in mounting his horse. He was about to mount his own when he looked back at Robin. "What's your name? So that I might say a prayer for your soul." He said a little dryly.

"My name is Robin Hood." He said with a small bow. He sighed when the thinner priest mounted. Robin watched in annoyance as the priests rode away. "Nice horses for simple priests. Well dressed too." He said out loud hinting that they may have made a mistake.

John patted his shoulder as he went past. "Let it go. Slow day." He said before he headed back to camp.

"Yes, it is a slow day." He agreed still watching the cloud of dust settle with great suspicion.
--

-- Nottingham castle--

Sir Guy of Gisbourne leaned on the landing banister just stare at the quad below. It was a bright sunny day but it didn't feel like it. He needed to look at open space if only for awhile. Rooms were stifling him. He could hardly sleep in his own bedroom in Locksley. Even in the great hall, he felt like the grey walls were closing in. The castle was now unbearable. There was nothing left inside but ambition. The problem is sometimes his ambition wasn't good enough a motivation to serve the sheriff of Nottingham. He was loyal to the Black Knights still. But Sir Guy was having trouble seeing the future like he was used to imagining it. He must force himself to forget, to assume like she never existed.

"Guy?" Came a familiar warm voice from the end of the hall. Gisboure wanted desperately not to look. She was gone after all. But he found his head turning against his will.

And there she was-- her hair a cascade of chestnut waves. She was wearing that olive dress with orange embroidery he never brought himself to tell her he loved. "Marian." He barely whispered. Gisbourne followed her as she walked past him to turn the other corner. Then she stopped, tilting her her head to one side as if she was confused.

"Aren't you going to accompany me Sir Guy?" She asked with a tempting smile. "I thought I wasn't to be left unsupervised." She said.

Gisbourne didn't know what was happening but he found himself chasing after her. Marian would always be ahead of him, stopping at corners and stairwells just until he came into view. Then she was off again. It was like a chase he couldn't bring himself to stop. Finally he turned the last corner expecting her to be there but she wasn't. He looked around dumbfounded realizing where he was. He was at the entrance of the Great Hall. He shook his head when he saw the door open. The Sheriff wouldn't like it if he found out that people could hear him when he didn't want to be heard. He was about to close it gently when he heard voices on the other side with the Sheriff's own voice. He was taken aback. The sheriff didn't mention that he was expecting visitors.

"So you took her out to the dessert and left her tied to their doom with this Robin Hood? You didn't just kill her?" A man asked.

"I thought I was doing her a favor tying her up with that outlaw of hers. You see, the pretty one did me a favor. I now know that Gisbourne's loyalty is without question. I was merely showing my gratitude." Gisbourne saw the sheriff lean back on his chair from the opening of the door. "No matter now. She's no longer a threat. Gizzy killed her later on. My dear boy grew a backbone. Sniff." The sheriff grinned. Gisbourne could feel his temper start to rise. So this is how she got loose to be with that outlaw in the last moments of their plans to kill King Richard. What the sheriff told him, that Robin Hood must have freed her, was a lie.

"Is this meant to be your confession or his?" Another voice asked.

"Confession?!" Guy whispered to himself in pure shock forgetting his feelings of betrayal for a second.

The sheriff looked at his visitors with slight amusement. "Do I look like I'm dying? A clue." He mouthed the word 'no' while shaking his head. "I am merely telling you a story. A story you can pass on to the other Knights when you see them. They only know the basics. Embellish it of course. Make it to a silly chant. You'll never know. The story of the Black Knights might be famous one day hm? It could be a tavern hit." He suggested standing up and walking out of Gisbourne's sight. "So, what word do you have from Spencer?"

"He says everything is ready. He says that Prince John will attend himself." The first voice answered. "Which means, he says, you better be sure this is going to work. Here is your bible."

"Oh ye of little faith." The sheriff preached. There was a sound like something was dropped on the wooden table.

Then another one but this time something jingled. Gisbourne knew that sound. It was the sound of coins hitting each other inside a bag. "Money." He said grimly. He pulled himself up to enter the hall. He would have to make some excuse of course. But that would be easy. After all, Robin Hood was still alive. Gisbourne made sure that his appearance will betray none of his anger before he pushed the door open. "My Lord Sheriff, pardon this interruption." He greeted grimly when he came in.

The sheriff of Nottingham motioned for him to come closer with his hand without looking at him. "Gisbourne! Whatever it is, it can wait." He replied slyly. "I want you to meet our new friends, Father Benedict and Father Mark." He grinned. "They, dear boy, successfully went past Sherwood with nothing stolen from them. Isn't that wonderful? Yes. Robin Hood didn't even lay a finger." He said sounding half amused and half sarcastic at the same time.

"Call it divine intervention." Father Benedict chuckled.

Gisbourne gave the two priests an unconvinced scowl. "Priests my lord?"

"Yes, Gisbourne. As you can see, they are priests. Real priests. Habit and all." Vassey replied looking suspiciously at his pale lieutenant. "Are you alright Gisbourn? You look like you've seen a ghost. Our leper friend again?" he asked. Then he looked at the two priests with a small smile on his face. "Do you do exorcisms by any chance?" He asked. The two priests looked at each other. "No? That's too bad." The sheriff gave his attention back to his right hand man. "Gisbourne, accompany our friends to the chapel. They might want to talk to their superior before they leave tomorrow morning." The two men stood and bowed at the sheriff. They moved to the hall doors. Vassey clapped his hands twice. "Off you go." He said

Gisbourne rolled his eyes as he turned to leave the great hall with the two men. He was careful to stay silent the whole way to the chapel. He opened the door for them. Once they were inside, he let the door close. "Guard." He called out to a soldier nearby. "Make sure they do not roam around unaccompanied inside the castle." He said pointing to the chapel doors.

Sir Guy didn't bother to see if the soldier followed his command or wait for his reply. He just left. He was in absolute rage with the sheriff. He knew that the sheriff was the hand that feeds him but he finally realized that the sheriff had a hand in the demise of the love of his life. If the sheriff hadn't brought Marian to die with Robin in the dessert, then she wouldn't be there when the King had been shot. The king would have been dead. Their plan would have worked out. And by this time, he should have had everything he has ever wanted. Land. Power. Marian.

By the time he looked up to where he had walked to, he was surprised to see himself in town outside the Trip Inn. It was just after lunch. Only some of the patrons of the the tavern on the first floor remained. He spotted a piece of chalk on the first step and picked it up. All of a sudden, a plan started to form in his mind. He stared at it for a few seconds trying to see if he should indeed do what he wanted to do. He wasn't even sure if it would work. Then, the sheriff's innocent betrayal flashed back in his mind. With a tightened jaw, he went to a nearby post drawing a quick triangle pointing into the bar inside. He tossed the chalk aside as he headed to the tavern doors. It didn't matter now. If it didn't work, it was no loss to him. He would still drink his sorrows away.
--

-- Nottingham town--

Weaving through the crowd with their hoods on became increasingly easy for Allan- a- Dale. Being an outlaw twice has given him more than enough motivation to keep his existence away from the guards that patrolled the market. It was this reason why he decided he should be going around with Robin and Much. It was simple self preservation. If he were caught, at least he would be in the company of a really good archer. Or at least, he wouldn't be suspected of treason again.

The situation he found himself in slightly irked him. There was a slow day a year ago, a day just like today, that he didn't want to remember again. But here it was again. They were in an alley way. Robin and Much were eying the castle gate with much interest although nothing interesting was really happening. The only thing they noticed were the extra guards at every post. But even that was expected because it has been that way since Much's escape. He was just leaning against a wall watching out for guards or what not. He was trying to look inconspicuous enough as to not get caught. He was bored. And he was increasingly getting tired of Much and Robin's conversation.

"Now, you're just looking for trouble." Much reasoned. "Maybe the horses were gifts to the abbey. People give gifts to the Order. They're called donations. I mean, they need to get around too. They can't stay in the church forever. They need to get out there and spread the Word. And I think they'd need horses to do that." He pointed out.

Robin just shook his head slightly. "No. I don't think so. There's something odd about those two." He said.

"Because they quoted scripture? You quoted it too." Much argued.

Allan had enough. "Much. Shut up mate." He said.

To his dismay, Much turned to face him. "What Allan? You agree with him?" He asked accusingly.

"Well." He shrugged. "Not being funny or anything, but if they really wanted to bring people back in the Church, why aren't they making speeches in the market where all the people are? That's how they do it don't they?" He retorted.

"No. They hold confessions and service and the like inside the Church. In fact, I think you should go confess. When was the last time you went to confession." Much answered.

Allan just placed both his hands up. "Hey hey. That's not exactly fair is it? It's not like you're a saint." He replied. He saw the offended look on Much's eyes and decided that he didn't want to do this right now. He was not about to lose his temper again. "Look, gents, I don't want to pick a fight today alright. So, I'm just going to go. Back to the camp. Or something." He said backing away.

"That's right, Allan. Just walk away." Much yelled out after him.

Allan rolled his eyes. He knew where his feet were leading him. He reached behind his cape to get three small silver cups. He grinned. The tavern trickster lives again. Only this time, he would be sure he didn't get caught by the guards or Gisbourne. He reached the entrance of the Trip Inn with eager anticipation. Then he paused when he saw the sign on the post. He gingerly placed a hand on it making sure that it wasn't just chalk that didn't wash away the last time he sold information. Although he knew that couldn't be plausible, he needed to check. When the white mark transferred to his hand, he knew the mark was fresh. His brow furrowed with suspicion. The sign was something only he and Sir Guy of Gisbourne knew about. But if he didn't put the mark, then who did?

He knew he should have just walked away. But curiosity go the best of him. He opened the door of the tavern just enough to take a peek at the people inside. His eyes widened. There he was in the far corner of room drinking where Allan used to sit. Allan quickly looked around to see if there were any guards. Finding none, he stepped inside the tavern just to step out again. He turned and started to walk away. He was the tavern trickster. And the tavern trickster will not be tricked.
--

Gisbourne lifted his head away from the table. His hand released the mug he's been holding for quite a long time. He didn't know how long he has been in the tavern only that maybe he has had far too much to drink in one afternoon. His head had started to throb from the mixture of drinks he's been taking. The tavern was empty now that it was mid afternoon and people had gone back to work. Only Jess, the barmaid remained and she was no where to be found. It didn't matter. He didn't need a refill. It was time to leave. The plan had failed. He should go back to Locksley to tend to his on- coming hangover. It would be quiet afternoon without the squabbling mercenaries around. Silence was what he needed now.

It was then that he watched a man slide nervously into the empty seat in front of him. Sir Guy of Gisbourne gave him a small smug grin. "Took you long enough, Allan." He managed to slur out.

"Not being funny, but this isn't exactly my idea. Little too familiar. You know what I mean?" Allan gave him a nervous smile. Suddenly, two arrows embedded themselves on the table, one after the other making both of the occupants jump slightly. "Now might be a good time to remind you not to try anything funny. Alright Guy? I mean it. You can take a look around if you want. Gang's all here. Don't want to give the a reason to kill you right? Not like you haven't given them a few already."

Gisbourne rolled his eyes. "Lah di dah di dah." He said looking around. That's when he saw them. Robin was in the second floor railing with an arrow aimed right at him. Little John was by the door making sure no one comes in or out. Will Scarlett and Djaq were sitting a few tables away and Much sitting on a stool by the bar. "Can't do it alone Allan?" He taunted.

Allan just stared at him for one second. "Not being funny, but are you drunk?" He looked back at where Robin was. "He's drunk, Robin. He's just going to spew out nonsense. Let's get out of here before the sheriff starts looking for him and we all get spotted."

Much looked up from the bar. "He's got a point, Master. And this is Gisbourne. Whatever he says might be a trap."

"Shut up!" Gisbourne shouted at them holding his head with both hands. "You're giving me a headache." He complained.

"Not being funny, but I don't think that's us." He hinted nudging the mug on the table towards the Black Knight.

"Not being funny but this might be the only chance you have at information. I'm making something clear. This is a one time event. It's never going to happen again. At least I don't think." Gisbourne leaned his head on the wall behind him.

"So what do you have?" Allan asked.

There was silence in the bar for a moment. Gisbourne tried massaging his temples. "Go to church lately?" He taunted with a small smile on his face breaking the quiet. "Or maybe you feel like you don't need to with all your angelic work." He continued wryly. "Or maybe a pair of priests held mass for you when they passed by this morning. Yes, God will save your souls because you let a few of his minions go. Very nice." Another arrow was let loose making Allan jump. "What? Still can't kill me Hood?"

"Believe me I would. But she wouldn't like that." He replied liking the way Gisbourne frowned when he said it. "Stop playing games with us, Gisbourne." Robin said in a threatening way. "What about the priests."

Gisbourne chuckled. "Priests are interesting beings. They are messengers of..."

"Of God." Will finished for him. "Robin, he's drunk." He stated.

"Of War." The drunk lieutenant interrupted before Robin could reply. "Isn't that the type of thing that you don't like? Are not so holy Holy men not on your list because they are still Holy men? Black Knights found a new way to send messages between them and their service is not free. Apparently, God isn't the only one they love. " He snickered. "At least they have the color right."

Allan smirked. "Yeah. They'd fit right in won't they. Black robes and all." He commented.

"How do we know we can trust you? You're the sheriff's right hand man. The sheriff's little dog." Djaq pointed out..

Sir Guy of Gisbourne started laughing. "You know what. You can go see for yourselves. Your little priests are staying in the Castle tonight and leaving tomorrow. Know any other priests who do that? In fact, I'd do you another favor. I won't be in the castle today."

"Why?" Robin asked suspiciously.

"Do I look like I'm in any condition? Maybe I'm not the one with my world spinning madly." He said bowing his head to be supported by his hands again.

"I think I like him like this." Allan grinned. "Very amiable. Not being funny, but I think we should give him ale more often."

"I meant, why are you doing this? Feeding us information. Could hurt your position, Gisbourne. Isn't that what you care about? Power. Money. Position." Robin remarked.

"Not today. Besides, who's to know? Jess will say I've drank too much and made myself ill. Which is true." He answered dropping his head to the table. His world was side ways now. He closed his eyes feeling faint. "You want to know why Locksley?" He asked with a softer voice. "Why else? Revenge." He admitted before the darkness took him.
--

-- Outlaws camp--

Robin shifted in his costume uncomfortably. For the first time since he came back to England two years ago, he was nervous. The gang needed to go in to see if Gisbourne was right. And if he is right, they needed to know what the priests know. Gisbourne had mentioned war. The camp's recent visitors from Aquitaine had told him to keep watch of the Sheriff. The Black Knights recently met in Nottingham. Ellingham and his mercenaries have been recalled to the castle without any sign of going back to Locksley. It couldn't be a coincidence.

But that wasn't the reason why he was nervous and uncomfortable. They were going to infiltrate the castle. But this time, she wouldn't be there like she used to. He wouldn't be able to spend even a fleeting minute with her. The realization set that Marian had spoiled him good. He can't remember the last time he had to work so hard to get information. They always relied on her to spoon feed them. Robin suddenly chuckled and looked into the heavens where he thought she would be watching. "This is your fault." He jested.

"Did you say something, Robin?" Will asked beside him adjusting his guards uniform heading towards his bunk for the helmet. Will saw a ghost of that familiar mischievous shine in Robin's eyes for the briefest of moments. He gave his leader a small smile.

"Me? Nothing." Robin shrugged before turning to the gang who were all in guards uniforms. He smiled rubbing his hands together. "So, are we ready?"

Much sighed. "Is there no point in telling you that what we are about to do is a sin? And we're going along with it. This is preposterous." He commented.

"Then we're all damned." Robin replied grinning.
--

--Nottingham Castle--

A platoon of yellow and black soldiers marched up to castle's main gate. The four guarding the gates blocked their way automatically. They had their orders to assume extra precaution. The Sheriff has been prudent lately. He ordered the Solstice banners to be put down. He ordered to check the castle fortifications. In fact, they haven't had a public hanging in weeks. One of the guards spotted a man in a thinning brown hood leaning on his staff half limping. The guard saw the spots on his hand and grimaced. The man had a sickness. "What does he want?" he asked impatiently.

"He's been asking around to see the two priests. Something about them forgetting something in the abbey. Not being funny, but it must be important because those two priests are the guests of the sheriff's." One of the soldiers shrugged.

The guard eyed the hooded man with suspicion. "Take off the hood." He ordered.

"That'll be a mistake." The same soldier answered. "Believe me, I've seen it. This man is horribly disfigured and sick. Abbey took pity on him." The soldier said with a slight chuckle. "I'm think I'm going to have nightmares for weeks." He admitted.

The guard suddenly felt uncomfortable. He didn't want to get whatever the man had. Sure, the man looked like he was well fed but the spots on his hand looked like leprosy. Or worse. It could be a plague of some sort. "What's his name then?" He asked a bit less menacingly.

"Friar..." The soldier started but trailed off as if he had forgotten the name.

"Tuck!" Another soldier said suddenly. "Friar Tuck." The largest soldier at the back finished for him.

"Yeah, that's right. Friar Tuck. Apologies. It's an odd name. Easy to forget. You know what I mean?" The first soldier shrugged again.

The guard gave his companions behind him an uncertain look which he was glad the others shared with him. He didn't want to get into trouble with the sheriff by being fooled by some friar. But at the same time, if the friar was indeed a guest, he would be punished for not letting him in. It was a precarious situation they faced themselves in. The only way out is for some sort of confirmation. "Sir Guy isn't here. You should go ask the sheriff." He said.

His friend was about to protest when a voice coming from the quad behind them interrupted their potential argument. "Let him in. The priests have been expecting him." He commanded with a tone of authority they normally only heard from Sir Guy of Gisbourne. The guards looked back to see one of their own standing patiently in the middle of the quad. The man placed his hands on his hips when nobody moved. "Well? Do you want to keep the sheriff's guests waiting?" He crossed his arms over his chest.

The guards split in the middle letting the Friar and three soldiers pass while two stood with the four guards by the gate. "We'll just wait for our lot here then. We don't all need to go in." The soldier said leaning on the wall.

His friend quickly took to standing beside him. "We'll help you watch out for those troublemakers from the forest." He offered.

The Friar limped towards the waiting guard and raised his eyes to meet his. "Carter." The friar tried to stifle a chuckle. "Very commanding." He greeted barely whispering.

"Robin." The guard greeted as he turned to accompany the friar. "Very creative." He said in the same tone.

Behind him, another argument was brewing. "Tuck?!" Exclaimed one of the guards while careful not to be too loud. "Can't you have picked a better name? Like Peter, Matthew or James." He suggested.

"Shut up!" The large man answered. "There was a chicken clucking." He defended in a matter of fact way.
--

Father Mark paced the length of the castle chapel nervously. This was the first time since they started their travels that they were staying at a castle and not some inn or chapel in town. Father Benedict had been joyous at the fact that they might have better accommodations in Nottingham they left Rutland two days before. But Father Mark had a problem with castles. Castles had a lot of guards wielding weapons. And he was very scared of those weapons coming near him. It didn't help his nerves that there was a guard right outside the chapel doors.

"Mark." The older priest called out with his eyes closed from the second pew. "Stop pacing. It's distracting. I keep forgetting where I am in my prayers." He said simply.

Mark took a seat at the edge of the nearest pew. "I'm sorry Father." He apologized. "It's just that... are you sure you do not want to stay at an inn tonight?" He asked sweetly.

"We've been through this haven't we?" The other man answered. "It is a waste of the order's money. Why should we pay when we can stay in the castle for free."

The younger priest stayed silent. He kept glancing at the chapel doors imagining the soldier outside coming in to slay them. He thought he was keeping his nervous behavior to himself until he was called by the older priest again.

"Mark, stop tapping the pew." Father Benedict requested.

The tapping stopped. But the door to chapel door opened. Father Mark's eyes widened when he saw a soldier come in to hold the door for someone else. He immediately stood from his seat heading for wall of windows opposite the door. He watched as a limping friar came in along with four other soldiers. To his dismay, the four soldiers remained inside the chapel when the doors closed. He gave the their visitors a nervous smile as he watched the friar limp forward to the altar. "Father Benedict. We have visitors. An old friar and four soldiers." He managed to say.

Father Benedict could hear the fear in his companion's voice. He sighed as he stood to turn. "Mark, at ease. They have probably heard that we are here and wanted our to receive the sacrament of Reconciliation." He faced his colleague with an easy smile. "A confession, Mark." He said before placing his attention to their limping visitor. "Isn't that right my friend?" He asked.

His eyes widened when the crouched man suddenly straightened to his full height. Father Benedict watched as the soldiers behind him barred the door with a wooden plank. The soldiers then took their helmets off placing them on a pew. They revealed themselves and unsheathed their swords. Suddenly, he felt Mark standing beside him. The man finally took off his brown hood. "Yes Father. We are here for a confession." The grinning man said. "Yours." Father Benedict stood frozen on the spot.
--

Will watched as Allan shifted uncomfortably in his spot once again. They were standing beside each other on one side of the gate in relative silence waiting for the others to come out. Hopefully, if the plan goes well, they would just be able to walk away from the castle unscathed. The rest of the normal guards manning the gate were a bit further off the gate waiting for anything or anyone who would attempt to enter the castle without an invitation. It amused Will to know that the people they were bent to stop were already inside without them noticing.

He saw Allan steal a glance back at him before looking out to town as if he had a question that he was trying not to ask. Will was starting to get uncomfortable with all of Allan's stolen glances. He knew they haven't really talked since he redeemed himself in the barn. But for some reason, Will had expected the talkative Allan to initiate the conversation, not the other way around. "Yes?" He finally asked careful not to name him.

"Well," Allan started suddenly interested on the dirt on his boots. "Not that I don't want you and Djaq here, I mean I do. It's great and all. But why did you come back? You had it all in the Holy Lands didn't you? A place to stay, food to eat, reckon they need carpenters there too, and well... Djaq." He said with slight hesitation. "You have to admit, you left a dream of a life in the Holy Lands. Now you're back with us, not that I mind. You know what I mean?" He asked.

Will turned his head slightly to face Allan. "It wasn't all that great." He replied honestly. "Bassam's was good I must admit. But once you step out, you're the only English person in the city. People don't really like us there with the war. They were calling me a name which I had to plead Bassam to translate." He shook his head at the memory.

"What was it?" Allan asked curiously.

"White devil." Will sighed with a small smirk on his face.

Allan chuckled placing his hands on his hips. "Not being funny but I think they were thinking of the wrong outlaw." He grinned motioning to himself.

"Yeah, I thought so too." Will teased his companion. "It would have been fine though as long as Djaq was ok. But nobody would talk to her because she was with me. In the end, it didn't quite feel like any home." Will raised his head watching people go by in the market place. "Not like here." He added.

Allan gave his fellow outlaw a supportive pat on the shoulder. "Well, it's good to have you back." Allan saw Will turn to face him and retrieved his hand quickly. The two stood in silence for a few seconds until Allan couldn't take any more of it. "Will," he started tentatively, "we're good now, right mate?" He asked.

Will nodded. "Yeah." He answered. "You pulled through at the end didn't you? Just like my dad."

"Not being funny, but I'm nothing like your father." Allan grinned finally assured that he has been forgiven by the people that mattered most to him in the gang. He stood up straighter feeling like his world seemed a bit lighter.

"You're right. You're not." Will joked with a small smile on his face. It felt good being back into normal terms with Allan. They were real brothers in arms again. He never liked the bad air between them. It always just felt wrong. He took a glance back at the castle. Now, waiting for the others won't take as long as it really was. He shrugged. "Plus, there's really nothing much to chop there exactly. You can't whittle sand." He added turning to a laughing Allan knowing he would have a clever response.

--
Carter leaned on the wall to the right of the alter watching the scene unfold before him with a small amused smirk. Robin himself was leaning against the alter as his gang took various positions around the two priests. Little John was standing at the end of the pews nearest to the doors cutting off any escape the priests had. Djaq was by the other end, only she was sitting on a window sill. Much was standing on a pew a two rows behind the priests with a look of disgust on his face.

"You are revolting." Much said. "You should be ashamed of yourselves. What kind of holy men would do the bidding of the Black Knights? Good people do not help bad people. Absolutely revolting." He finished crossing his arms.

Robin shook his head slightly. "Enough." He calmly ordered before his friend could continue on. Much let go of the deep breath he took just to start walking up and down the pew he was standing on. The priests turned to face him knowing they are at his mercy. Robin tilted his head to one side. "Kneel." He commanded.

The two priests fell to their knees. Father Benedict watched as Robin walked towards them and placed a foot on the pew in front and leaned forward so that his face was right in front of them. "So this is what priests do now? So much for the vow of poverty." He said before turning back to his former position at the alter. "Tell me something, are you even real men of God?" He inquired leaning on the altar again.

"We are indeed priests." Father Benedict answered pulling out his rosary to show the elaborately designed cross only given to those who are in the order.

"God bless us all." Robin replied dryly.

Father Mark raised his head for the first time. "You might have come in disguised as guards. But one scream from us and the guard outside will alert the castle." His voice trembled slightly as he threatened the outlaws. He watched as all the outlaws he could see suddenly fixed their gaze to the blonde he did not recognize at leaning against the wall.

Carter stared at the group innocently. "You mean me?" He asked. "Now why would I want to do that?" He smirked.

Father Mark paled. "What do you want from us?" He barely whispered in fear.

"What are the Black Knights planning?" Robin demanded with his carefree behavior giving way to a more serious expression. The priests stayed silent. Robin rolled his eyes. "If you do not tell us, I can not guarantee that we will leave you unharmed." He shrugged. He took his bow and an arrow from underneath his brown robes. He took aim.

"You can not harm us, dear boy. Nothing has changed since our meeting this morning. We are still men of God." Father Benedict insisted.

Robin met John's gaze. "Are holy men still holy men if they do not wish peace, John?" He asked curiously.

"No." John answered automatically.

"Djaq?" Robin turned to the Saracen.

"A joke." Djaq replied.

Robin let an arrow loose hitting the area perfectly in between the two priests. "Do I really have to ask again?" He took another arrow and took aim.

"Alright alright. Just don't hurt us." Father Mark gave in. "We don't know their plans. We were just sent here to inform the sheriff that everything is ready and that the sheriff should not fail. We were ordered to give him a bible. It's a real bible. We've used it on several occasions in this trip. That's all we know." He bowed his head again clasping both hands.

The gang looked to Robin and Robin stared at the two priests suspiciously. "Check them." He ordered.

Father Mark closed his eyes as he felt the outlaws close in on them. "Please don't hurt us. Please don't hurt us. Please don't hurt us." He chanted softly with his eyes closed as light hands patted down his sides eventually finding his new purse. He felt his purse being lifted but didn't care for it as he prayed on.

"Shut up, Mark." Father Benedict growled when his own purse was lifted and the outlaws backed away. He watched as the leader of the gang catch the two fat purses and hid them under his robe. "You will be cursed for this insolence. All of you! God will not forgive you for laying a hand on his representatives on Earth." He said angrily.

Robin was taken a back as he placed his hood back on. He took his bow and an arrow once more taking aim. "Well that's not very nice is it?" He protested feigning insult.

"Revolting." Much said behind the priests as he placed his helmet back on.

"Confession's over, Robin. Are you going to give them absolution?" Carter advised while moving towards the door.

"Maybe." Robin grinned. "Why don't you close your eyes and pray the rosary?" He suggested with his arrow still drawn. Father Mark closed his eyes automatically but Father Benedict was more hesitant before he followed. "Come on now. I'll start it off for you. Credo in Deum Patrem omnipotentem..." He said quietly heading towards the door while keeping his voice resonating within the chapel so that the priest would hopefully notice the hoax.

"Creatorem coeli et terrae. Et in Jesum Christum, Filium ejus unicum, Dominum nostrum..." The priests continued along with Robin's voice.

"Very good." They heard Robin comment. And suddenly, Robin's voice disappeared.

Father Benedict's eyes flew open in furry. He stood at once searching for the outlaws at the risk of being shot by an arrow. When he found that they were gone, he was furious. He pulled upwards on the robe of his praying comrade. "Get up!" He commanded running for the door. He swung the door open finding neither a guard nor the outlaws. Enraged, he ran to the nearest landing, took a deep breath and shouted. "Outlaws escaping!"
--

The sheriff was inspecting the used bible with interest in the great hall when he heard the commotion below. He raced to the window to see what had happened. There were four guards running alongside a friar portcullis where four of his soldiers were waiting. Reinforcements were running to the quad via the landing but even he could see that they would not make it in time to stop the rogues. But those soldiers in the gate were quickly knocked out by two of their own from behind. The friar took a side trip to set off the gate mechanism before rolling underneath the falling grills. The chasing soldiers immediately tried to raise the gate in vain. There was a cheer from the other side. The friar took off his hood and looked up to the great hall with a cheeky grin and a salute before running away.

"Robin Hood." The sheriff scowled. Then he turned around and yelled incoherently at the empty hall. He was stomping his way back to the long table when the door opened.

A tired soldier stumbled forward trying to catch his breath. "My Lord Sheriff." He said trying to catch his balance. "Outlaws disguised as guards and clergy... escaping." He managed to stammer.

The sheriff growled loudly in anger. He started throwing the fruits on the table at the soldier. "Escaping?!" He yelled. "Escaping means they could still be caught. Escaped! You idiot! They've escaped you blundering buffoon!" He pointed out throwing an apple.

The soldier tried to dodge the flying fruits to no avail. He couldn't get away from them all. The soldier's eyes widened when he saw a wooden tray that used to hold the fruits suddenly flying towards him. Luckily he went out of its way fast enough for it to hit the door and break. He winced at the fury of the sheriff now that he had nothing to throw.

"Where's Gisbourne?" He demanded in a menacing tone.

The soldier stood perfectly still darting glances at the empty corridor that he just came from. "Retired to Locksley my lord. He is ill sir." His voice trembled in reply.

"Leprosy!" He eyed the poor soldier who was cowering in fear. "Tell Gisbourne to get his little sad bottom here. Now! No. Excuses!" He emphasized cried again.

"Yes, my Lord Sheriff." The soldier bowed quickly then left.

The sheriff lifted the bible he had immediately feeling better. He ran his hand against the leather back cover and smiled when he felt what he was looking for.
--

--Outlaw's camp --

Much eyed Carter wearily as he stirred his pot. Sure, they owed the man for getting inside the castle in the first place. But his appearance caught them all off guard. He was suppose to be on his way to the Holy Lands after all. Much watched when Carter placed his short swords on the table near him. When he was noticed, Much quickly looked away. He heard the other man chuckle.

"Just come out with it." Carter said turning to face the former servant.

"We thought you were going back to the Holy Lands." Much asked poignantly.

"I was." Carter answered crossing his arms. "I accompanied Evangeline to Falmouth--"

Much turned around to face the man for the first time confused. "Falmouth? All the way to Cornwall? I thought they were going to Portsmouth? That's at the opposite end of the south coast." He interrupted.

"Yes well, there are also lots of mercenaries at Portsmouth. And Calais is a long way from Aquitaine." He smiled wryly. "If they take Falmouth, they can land in Saint- Malo in Brittany. It's faster and safer. And because her uncle used to trade tin and gems, she has a few unlikely friends in the walled port." He explained. "So, I was on my way--"

"Hold on." Robin said behind them. "She has unlikely friends? Why are they unlikely?" He asked curiously grabbing onto a line of rope above him.

Carter gave them a look of disbelief. "It's Saint Malo!" He exclaimed expecting them to know the place. His friends gave him a questionable expression. "It's a sanctuary for corsairs, pirates and thieves. You didn't think a two crusaders could teach that girl to thieve and pick pockets did you? At least, that's how she explained it to me." He shrugged off the shocked look on both of their faces. "In any case, I had to pass by London to send a message to the king that I was returning by a loyal contact. But when I got there, there was a message ordering me to stay in England and to foil any of Prince John's attempts for war to continue in the Holy Lands especially now that our King and Saladin are discussing their terms. So I came to Nottingham because the Black Knights have left it to the Sheriff. I've been at the Trip Inn for two days. I saw the priests go in. They never came back out and I decided to investigate it myself. Then I saw you lot." He summarized so quickly that the two couldn't interrupt again. "By the way, I don't think the guard trick would work again." He warned.

"Oh." Much said turning back to his cooking. "Welcome back to Nottingham them." He greeted simply.

Robin nodded with a mischievous smile on his face. "Great. That means we have someone in town close enough to the castle." He said.

Carter could almost see the gears in Robin's head turning when he shook his head giving him his own sly grin. "You mean inside the castle. I met a feisty blonde girl who's been enslaved in the kitchen and trapped in the castle for months. She's says Gisbourne finally caught her and she's willing to give me information for free out of spite."

"Impressive." Robin replied nodding again. "Have you been to Robert Thatcher yet? Seeing him later?" He asked obviously amused.

The crusader sighed. "Yes I have. I sent a message to Eva saying I'm staying in Nottingham. She replied that Bobby's birds are for emergencies and information, to be careful and to say hi to you lot. As for sending her a message about the priests, I'm not too sure. We didn't really get a lot from them aside from their plans are ready. Useless to send a message saying there's danger is near. They already know that." He said not able to hide his disappointment.

"Someone's bitter." Much teased with amusement. "Maybe you should tell her about the kitchen maid." He added. Robin chuckled but blonde stayed silent just giving the cook daggers with his eyes.

When Robin was able to compose himself, he took stool to sit on. Suddenly, he pointed at Carter. "They did say something about a bible. Ask your kitchen maid about it." He leaned back when he saw the other man nod and start to leave. "Hold on!" He called out just as Carter was securing his weapons. "What's her name this kitchen maid?" He asked.

"Ironically, her name is Eve. Said she used to serve in Bonchurch?" He said without turning to look back.

Much felt his heart stop for a moment just to resume pounding heavily in his chest. He turned slowly to face their visitor. "What?" He asked breathlessly.
--

-- Nottingham Castle--

Sir Guy of Gisbourne took a deep breath before he entered the sheriff's quarters. He gave one last glance at the window before proceeding. Darkness has fallen. He hoped that the events earlier this afternoon would be gone from the sheriff's mind or he would have to bear the sheriff's anger. The priests, he found, were unharmed but were shaken. He ordered the kitchen to give the two the best meal in the castle for dinner-- after the sheriff of course-- for their grief. He knocked on the door waiting for the sheriff's orders. "Come in!" He heard the sheriff say.

He pushed the door open with his eyes closed. "You sent for me my lord?" He asked. When he opened his eyes, he was surprised to see the room's curtains drawn and the torches unlit. The room was pitch black except for a few candles in the sheriff's desk. He saw the eerie shadows the lack of light threw on the sheriff's face as he sat behind his desk examining something.

Vassey waved to Gisbourne to come nearer without letting his attention waver. "Come here, Gisbourne." He summoned lightly.

The lieutenant eyed his superior tentatively as he carefully approached the desk. He's seen how quickly the man's temper can turn sour. "I'm sorry about leaving the castle earlier, Sheriff. I fell ill." He apologized. He stood behind the sheriff like he often does. He peered over the man's shoulder and he let his jaw drop in shock. The sheriff was observing a closed bible.

"Lah di dah di dah. Those holy men are fine. They've done their purpose." He said almost whispering. A wide smile grew on the sheriff's face as he gently lifted the bible revealing the ink impression it left on the parchment below it. He saw the neat cursive writing on the parchment and gasped with delight. The sheriff carefully sprinkled some fine sand before the ink could smear or blot. He blew the sand away then stood so that his right hand man could see what was there.

Sir Guy's eyes widened in surprise when he read what was on the paper. "My lord, this is..." He trailed on unable to speak.

"You see, Guy." The sheriff's turned to face him. "We have bigger fish to fry."

--

Note: That's the Latin apostle's creed up there. I remembered there was this Robin Hood story about him stealing from two priests in the forest. The priests lied to him about not having anything er... or something like that. He somehow ended up robbing them anyway. I couldn't find it-- the actual story. It's funny, I keep thinking it's part of the 'Robin Hood and Little John walking through the forest-- golly what a day' song cartoon. But I'm sure I'm mistaken since that was for kids and I doubt that they'll show little kids a fox robbing two priests. So, i must've read it in a book somewhere a few years ago when I was trying to find the actual legend of Robin Hood after reading this fantasy novel about his kid... evs. I didn't intend to take a stab at the Church, for anyone that happen to be offended. Um.. that's all