Chapter 2

Both now lying on the road, Allan and Will stared at each other with expressions of equal shock, before Will recalled that freezing in the midst of a battle was not a good idea. Grabbing his axe which had dislodged from Allan's leg when he fell, Will got up preparing for another fight, only to find the few soldiers who weren't dead or unconscious were busy running away. The other outlaws were heading towards him or more precisely the carriage he was standing by.

Sheathing his sword, Robin strolled over and smirked down at Allan who had shifted his position so he now sat with his back propped up against the carriage. "Come on then, Allan. Run away with your little friends."

Allan rolled his eyes at him. "Don't you think I would if I could," he replied as he removed the hand clasped to his calf showing Robin the large gash there.

Robin frowned at the stream of blood slowly seeping from Allan's leg, but Will couldn't tell if it was from concern for Allan or annoyance at having to deal with the traitor once more. Looking at his axe, Will saw the blood of his former friend glistening on the blade and suddenly felt a wave of nausea through his throat. He knelt down and hastily wiped the blood off on some leaves.

Much and Little John made their way past Allan and into the carriage shooting looks of tired disgust and anger at the fallen man. They hauled out the chest containing the money and dumped it onto the road.

Throwing open the lid, Robin gave the coins contained within a pleased nod. "Good job, gang."

Allan's face contorted with a grimace of pain. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back against the carriage and let out a long, shaky breath. Djaq took an uncertain step towards him, but stopped and exchanged looks with Will who bit his lip in frustration.

"Time to disappear," Robin called.

Much and John lifted the chest once more and began making their way towards the trees, but Will was still watching Allan. The man's face was growing paler as the pool of blood by him got larger.

"We can't leave him like this," Will said suddenly.

Allan's eyes snapped open in surprise.

Rubbing his hands tiredly across his face, Robin gave out an exasperated sigh as if he'd known something like this was coming. "You can wrap up his leg, but that's it."

"Wait a minute," said Much who had stopped when Will made his sudden outburst. He made his way back towards them leaving John in charge of the chest. "Since when do we give aid to our enemies."

"If we don't help him, he could die," replied Will. "I thought we tried not to kill if we could avoid it."

"He's not going to die," Much said gesturing towards Allan. "It's just a scratch."

"If the wound is not stitched and bandaged soon, he could bleed to death," pronounced Djaq.

This left the outlaws momentarily silent.

"But, but…" stuttered Much searching for an argument.

"I agreed you could bandage his wound," said Robin. "We don't have time to waste stitching it too."

"Listen…" began Allan.

Turning with a scowl, Robin levelled a finger at him. "You don't have any say in this."

"So you would rather he bled more slowly to death or died of infection," countered Djaq. "The wound needs cleaning as well."

"This is not our problem," announced John setting down the chest. "The Sheriff's men should be here in a few hours. They can take care of him."

"Can you guarantee they'll actually come?" questioned Will. "What if they decide he's dead already and don't bother coming? What if the Sheriff is so angry about the gold he lost, he decides to kill him anyway?"

While they argued, Allan used the side of the carriage to painfully pull himself up. He leaned against it keeping his weight off his left leg. "If you just wrap my leg up and help me onto a horse…" he chocked out through clenched teeth.

"No horses," said Will shaking his head.

Allan glanced at his own steed lying dead on the ground and then at the front of the carriage where the two horses that had pulled it were missing having been cut loose at some point during the fight. His shoulders slumped and he hung his head.

Turning back to the others, Will said, "There's no way he's going to be able to make it anywhere on that leg."

"Fine," declared Robin raising his arms. "We'll take him somewhere he can be taken care of."

"Where?" asked Much.

"Nottingham."

"So the Sheriff can kill him?" stated Will. "Besides it'll take us a couple hours from here by foot."

"Locksley."

"That will still take too long and Gisborne is there," Djaq insisted. "Robin, you know it's dangerous to move a man when he's injured and that wound needs to be taken care of as soon as possible."

"And are we really going waste all that time ensuring the safety of this traitor?" added John.

Robin raked his fingers through his hair as if he was going to start pulling it out. "Clun. Nettlestone. Kirklees. There must be somewhere closer."

"The camp," said Will.

"Oh, no," Much protested. "We are not taking him to the camp."

Djaq raised her eyebrows. "What's the problem? It's not as if he doesn't already know where it is."

"Yes, but…"

"We can get back to the camp in less that half an hour," said Will. "There Djaq can take care of his leg and when he's rested, we can take him somewhere else or at least, get him a horse so he can get himself somewhere else."

"Why are you so insistent we take care of him?" questioned Much raising his voice again. "Don't you remember what he did, what he's been doing?"

"He saved my life."

Will's words left the outlaws wide eyed and confused glancing between Will and Allan who still stood pale and shaky against the carriage.

Robin frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"When the Sheriff captured that Fool and me, Allan had the key to our shackles. The Fool picked them off his belt."

Shaking his head, Much snorted. "That's ridiculous. Allan's the best pickpocket in the Shire. Some silly Fool couldn't just pick his pocket without him…" He trailed off as realization dawned on his face. "Oh."

"Exactly," Will said. "Without that key, we wouldn't have been able to overpower the hangman and get away. Despite everything he's done, Allan's never tried to kill us or hurt us, at least, not physically. And the same can't be said about us. When we were fighting just now, Allan had the opportunity to take me. He had the high ground, but instead, he stopped. But I didn't. I'm the one who buried my axe in his leg." Briefly closing his eyes, Will took a deep breath. "This man used to be one of my best friends and I am not going to be the reason he dies."

Silence followed as what Will had said sank in. It was during this pause that Allan finally decided to pass out.