Will opened his eyes, rays of sunlight burning them instantly as they broke through the canopy of leaves that serves as the hideout's roof. He winced, covering them as he sat up and let his legs hang over the edge of his sleeping platform.
He was, as always, the second one awake. Much's bed was empty, probably gone to catch their food for the day. He tried to distract himself from the desire to look at Allan's bed, the memories of the previous night too startling and intense for him to entertain. He moved over to the lit fire and was about to fill up a pot and heat some water when he heard the sound of boots frantically crunching the leaves in their path, running.
"Everyone! Wake up!" Much's breathless voice called as the entrance to the hideout swung open, spraying dirt and leaves everywhere. "Heavily guarded caravan. Prince's insignia. North road!" he burst between gasps, rummaging through his possessions to swap his hunting gear for shield and sword.
Everyone jumped into action immediately, all fatigue from the sleep forgotten. Djaq and John were already fully outfitted, Allan was pulling on his boots and Robin had moved to stand at the entrance next to Much, grinning.
"Alright, we're going to have to hurry. It's heading out of the forest, away from Nottingham. It's got to have the Sherrif's money in it, collected at night while we slept. He probably hoped to get it away before dawn, but something must have delayed them." He paused to look at Much and then John. "Get the bow racks in position and loaded." The flustered Much nodded and hurried off, John saying nothing as he followed behind.
"The rest of you, with me. We're going to intercept that caravan." He declared, jumping off the stool he'd had a foot on and running out of the hideout.
Only minutes later after a frantic dash through an acre of forest, everyone was in position. John and Allan were crouched behind a rise on the west side of the road, with everyone else hiding east. Robin had his ear pressed to the earth to listen for signs of the caravan. "They're close, but we're ahead of them. It's a big one."
He paused a little longer to listen before addressing everyone. "I'll stop the caravan alone. At my signal, Much, release the bows. Then I want you and Djaq to show the ends of your bows, rustling some trees with your strings. Allan, Will and John, you'll be behind the caravan now. Once I've stopped it, start dispatching the guards. Silently."
His plan was the simple one, too direct for Will's preference and doomed to fail if the Caravan was large. But Robin seemed as confident as always, so no protest was made. The signal was made for silence as the approach of the target became audible without listening to the floor. Will's heart was pounding in anticipation, he and Allan had been positioned at the very back of the group. An immense amount depended on them.
It finally came into view after what seemed like an eternity of tense anticipation, the hoofs of the horses beating up dust clouds as they stomped on the dry earth. The creaking wagon on it's wooden wheels following behind bumpily.
A guard sat in the driver's platform, with two guards as a vanguard, two as a rear guard, and two on each side of the caravan. They were alert, but suspected no more on that stretch of road than they had the rest.
Once the caravan was in the dead centre of the group, Robin appeared. He calmly stepped out from his concealment at the side of the road, his bow held and two arrows nocked.
"The money you carry will feed the poor for a winter. Be honest with what you have and we'll only take a tenth, lie and we take it all. We have you surround, so don't try and escape." He said calmly. None of the guards wanted to move for fear that one of the arrows of his bow would end up through their chests, for they all knew who he was.
"You'll get nothing from us. Attack him, he only has two arrows ready!" shouted the driver, who must have also been the leader of the group. Robin flicked his hand slightly, signalling a hail of arrows fly over the treetops and bury themselves amid the caravan. Two of the guards were dispatched instantly, those that had been guarding the left side. The advantage of surprise were gone, they had all drawn their weapons and were surging toward Robin.
Will raised his head slightly, the rearmost of the guards immediately visible right in front of him. He looked past the man and saw Allan looking back at him. The man's hand appeared, signalling a countdown from three. The countdown was interrupted as the caravan's driver launched the attack. With a nod to eachother, they jumped out from beside the road. Will's axe sailed into the man's neck before he had managed to take a step, and he saw that Allan's sword had gone straight through the other man's stomach. That one let out a long groan of pain as he lay in a heap on the floor.
Allan ran over to join Will as the guards on his side were already dead. One guard turned to face them, his sword now at the ready. Allan swung for him, and his attack was parried with ease, bringing the weapon into Will's path and interrupting his attack. They couldn't get behind him as there wasn't enough space between the caravan and the raised roadside.
John, Djaq and Much had joined at the front now, battling with the mounted Vanguard. Robin had taken out the Driver with two arrows, the first had hit hidden armour under the heavily padded clothing. The second had cut clean through his neck however, and he sat slumped and leaking blood on to the seat.
John was facing a guard alone, his staff deflecting blows from the other's sword then sweeping for the horses' legs. Robin and Much were working on closing the other in so he had no space to ride and would be force to dismount, while Djaq was deflecting blows from the final surviving guard with her shortsword, unable to get in close enough to wound him.
A horn sounded in the distance behind them and Will spun around in time to throw himself to the floor as an arrow sailed over his head and thudded in the earth behind him. Figured were emerging from the cover on both sides of the road now, a hidden rear guard that had managed to catch up with the caravan. Will panicked, he was the only one who knew what was happening. They were still a distance away, and there was time to act. He turned, shouting "Get down!" to Allan. The man dropped instantly and Will's axe was thrown from his hand, planting itself in the man's face.
He died near instantly, gasping as he fell over on to Allan. Will darted over and hurled the body off, snatching up his axe again as he went. He offered his hand to Allan, taking a sharp breath but disguising it as a gasp of effort as he heaved the other man to his feet.
"We have to go. Reinforcements." He said simply.
Allan looked behind him, the anguish clear on his face. "Aw bloody 'ell," he grumbled, patting Will on the shoulder. "I'll get in the drivers' seat, you get the others." He said, sparing no time as he whirled around and climbed up on to the wagon, fumbling with the rains to get the panicking horses under control.
Will could still feel Allan's hand print on his shoulder even through the thick material of his shirt, his mind fogging for only an instant as he rushed forward. The shouts from behind were loud now, they'd be swamped in seconds.
His legs pounded into action, clearing the side of the caravan to see the battleground the road had become. The guards had been pushed so their backs were to him, hemmed in by the other members of Robin's company. Much had been injured, his shield arm hanging limply as he struggled with the others to fight what must have been a very elite guard. Their surviving horses had deserted them and they were on foot.
Will jumped forwards, propelling himself into the guard that was fighting John and smashing his fist into the back of the man's neck. He'd held his axe in his fist, it giving him the weight necessary to break the man's spine. The sickening crunch was mirrored by two of his own knuckles as they were trapped between the force of his punch and the man's spine, he let out a cry of pain and his axe thudded on the earth.
He got up to his knees and heard Allan's piercingly high whistle, turning to see the cart lurching toward him, preceded by two furious looking horses. He managed to roll out of the way, standing in time to grab on to the back of the wagon with his good hand, both of his feet finding purchase on a ledge at the wagon's base. His stomach lurched as he saw his axe, lying bloodied on the floor and getting increasingly further away from him. The two guards were led on the ground at the sides of the road, having been trampled by the horses.
Arrows were still following them, but their pursuers had not gained on them quickly enough to shoot with any accuracy. He couldn't move around to see if the others had climbed on due to his lame hand, but he could hear their shouts and whistles of victory jeering at the cluster of men that looked ever further away.