Robin Hood: Well Met Steel
By: Shadow Chaser
Started: 8/8/07.
Author's Notes/Disclaimer:
Robin Hood and its characters do not belong to me. I am not making a profit from this fic, this is just for amusement, especially that of my muses. I graduated college with a minor in History, which included a lot of English and European history along with Eastern and Asiatic history so my knowledge of the Crusades is pretty thorough.
Story:
Part 2 – Mistakes
June 15, 1192
OUTSKIRTS OF NOTTINGHAMSHIRE
The normal pace to get to London was at least a week and a half by horseback, but a few days into their journey, Robin had a feeling that they were going a lot slower than usual and he told himself it was probably James letting him enjoy the English air before he would have to return to the scorching dry heat of the sandy Holy Lands.
In the time he had traveled with James, he had learned a few interesting tidbits of what was at least the most current intelligence regarding the Saracens and King Richard's campaign. Jerusalem was a battlefield everyday and all of the civilians who had been living in the city had either fled or were driven underground. They had made a few allies within the community, but a majority of the people living there were Saracens. The Jewish populace, seeing that the Catholic Church denounced them and the Muslims did not acknowledge them, wanted nothing to do with the war have tried to broker peace between the two factions, but with unsuccessful results.
"How is the King?" he asked after a few minutes of silence in between their conversations.
"Battle-weary," James replied giving him an even look, "but he is confident that the mission in the Holy Lands that Pope Gregory and God commanded will happen soon."
"He needs to come back soon. You've seen how the lands have changed since Prince John took over and gave out the shires," Robin commented, looking around at the cloudy surroundings.
"These wars take time. The Saracens don't give up easily. You've seen how they fight, how they act. You yourself prevented at least three assassination attempts while there," James tilted his head, letting his helmet slide slightly to his left, "which by the way, I commend you for your last one. We all thought you weren't going to make it after that grievous wound you received."
Robin resisted the urge to flinch at the mention of his wound and wondered if he should tell James who the real assassin was during that last attempt. After a second of contemplation, he decided not to; he needed proof first and there was no need to voice his feelings just yet. Maybe he would find the proof he needed in the Holy Lands, especially if some of his Arabic allies were still alive there.
He hadn't admitted to anyone except to the King himself that he had grasped a lot of the Saracen language during his five years there. While he knew he hadn't mastered the language and knew that he probably would never master it, it was his understanding of the language that prevented a majority of the assassination attempts on his King.
Djaq and probably Much were the only two of his men that had suspicions towards his knowledge of the language and understanding of what the Saracen culture was. The others were mostly ignorant of that fact.
"Now I guess my little holiday is over and I'm headed back," he commented.
"Robin, we need you there," James shook his head, looking away into the distant green woods and rolling hills of the countryside, "things have been different since you were ordered back home. Tomas is in charge of the King's Guard now and he isn't like you. Sure he stopped a few more attempts, but many of the men don't like him, especially the other generals."
"But Tomas was my second-in-command," Robin was puzzled. He knew that Tomas of Rufford was probably one of the most beloved leaders in the army. He had a good head and hand for command and it was one of the reasons why he chose the grizzled middle-aged man to be his second-in-command.
"That's because he bowed down to your wishes. He was biding time, waiting for the moment when you would return to England so he could take over the King's Guard and rule it with an iron fist. He's been terrorizing the other generals. King Richard doesn't believe it, but then again, he's been away to many sorties so often that he doesn't realize it," James shook his head before pointing to his chest area, "I would show you the scar I 'accidentally' got from that man during one of our toughest battles yet."
"But isn't the Third Guard supposed to be the on the outer edges of the battles?"
"Tomas was the one who encouraged King Richard to leave you before heading south. He joined up with the Third Guard to advance the campaign," James gave a derisive snort.
Robin narrowed his eyes, confused. Somehow, he didn't believe a word James said. He knew Tomas…the man wasn't as power-hungry as James made him out to be. But then again, personalities and goals changed people while they were in the Holy Land. He himself had changed during his time in the Holy Land. Maybe Tomas had changed too?
"But since you're going back," the Crusader clapped him on the shoulder, "you can properly end this war, at least the infighting between our men. If there is one thing everyone in the King's forces knows, is that you are the peacemaker. You have the ability to rally people around a cause and we lost that when you were gone."
While Robin knew that James was trying to cheer him up, he felt less cheered by the news. He knew deep in his heart, he wasn't keen on going back into the battlefield, back to bloodshed and killing, even if things were as messed up as they seemed.
NOTTINGHAM TOWN
Market Day had returned to Nottingham with much fanfare and joy. Peasants and traders from all over the shire and even outside of the shire had flocked to Nottingham to trade their wares and sell their goods. There were sideshow entertainment by jesters and performance artists who entertained young children and women with their outlandish costumes and mock commentary of people like the ex-Sheriff Vaysey, Robin Hood, and even the nasty Guy of Gisborne. They portrayed some outlandish battles that Robin Hood had with the ex-Sheriff to the joy of the peasants and nobles who watched.
Rank didn't really mean a thing today as both peasants and nobles wandered around the bustling marketplace, reveling in the new money they acquired and buying things all over the place. Everyone was in high spirits, everyone except for one man.
Much wandered around the streets of Nottingham, forlorn and a bit lost. His cheeks were a bit tinged with pink, a sign that he had a bit too much to drink at the local pub and he stumbled into a basket full of fruit before sloppily righting it and continuing on his way down the streets.
The rest of Robin's former gang were also in Nottingham, mostly to see what was going on, but also for some to say their farewells to the people they knew. Will and Allan had decided that they would head to Scarborough to find Will's father and younger brother and invite them back to live in Locksley. Djaq still hadn't made up her mind whether to follow the two men or to set off on her own to Kirklees to the nunnery where Robin had once long ago promised her that the Abbess there would be able to find her transport back to her native lands.
Little John hadn't told them if he would send for Alice and his son since they were probably living with Luke the Cooper and instead, the big man was still very quiet with his new found freedom and pardon. Much had his lodgings at Bonchurch and was contemplating sending for Eve, but Robin's warning for him to keep an eye on Marian and her father when he was gone still lingered in his head. He wished that his master—former master, he amended silently to himself, was still here. He really didn't like the idea that Robin had left him here in England while he was going back into what he called the pits of hell.
Couldn't Robin understand that he was willing to follow him there? Follow him from hell and back, to even die for him? He had known Robin since he was a young boy; his mother had indentured herself as one of the maids within the Locksley household. His first thought was that Robin was a self-centered little bastard who thought of nothing of himself. Even then, Robin pushed him around, made fun of him, and even occasionally knocked him around during what he deemed weapons training. The only spark of humanity that he had seen that made his opinion change of Robin was after a year and half of meeting him, a fire had broken out in the kitchens of Locksley manor and his mother was caught inside along with a couple of the cooks.
He had tried to get his mother out, but the fires were too intense and had watched helplessly, unable to save his mother. It was then that he saw Robin jump boldly into the fire and successfully not pull out one of the servants stuck in there, but had also pulled his mother out, albeit to the danger of his own health. However, his mother did not survive much longer afterwards, having breathed in too much smoke and subsequently died soon after.
Robin had too suffered in the process and while he was recovering, Much swore fealty and loyalty to protect and die for his young master for saving his mother.
Now he felt lost and alone without Robin by his side, but he would obey and heed the last command his master gave him, protect Marian and protect Edward from anything the ex-Sheriff Vaysey would throw at them.
"-a clue: no. You see-"
Much halted in his wanderings and was mildly surprise to find himself within the castle walls. Sheriff Edward had declared that no guard would hinder anyone who wished to wander around the castle during his tenure, something that was revoked when Sheriff Vaysey was in charge. The only places someone wasn't allowed in were the vault, dungeons, kitchens, and personal quarters of the Sheriff.
That voice that had risen slightly yet fell muffled again sounded very similar to Sheriff Vaysey's and Much glanced at the unguarded door that he stopped in front of before looking around to make sure no other guards were nearby before creeping closer, hoping he could hear more.
"-now, the people will hate us. No, we must be quiet in our approach. We have to let him think that he is invulnerable at the moment, he can't be touched. That he has the backing he needs before we can move," the muffled voice of Vaysey came through the door.
Much narrowed his eyes, pressing his ear closer.
"But what about Hood?" the unrecognizable voice of one of the nobles asked.
"Blah-di-blah-di-blah," the ex-Sheriff replied, "who cares about Hood? He's gone for now."
"Are you sure this will work?"
"Of course-"
"Hey!"
Much jumped slightly before turning around to see a guard approaching him, weapon brandished menacingly at him.
"W-Who, me?" he asked stupidly, looking around.
"Yeah you! What are you doing there?" the guard asked, approaching him.
"Um…nothing," Much backed away slightly, "just…" He gulped as the guard pointed his spear at him, pinning him against the door. "Heh…just…"
"Oy," the guard called loudly towards the door, "I think you have a spy."
There was a scuffle of locks being unlocked before the door opened and Much fell to the ground. He scrambled up and turned around to find himself staring into the evilly smiling faces of the ex-Sheriff and four other nobles whom he vaguely recognized as the Sheriff's most vocal supporters in the villages surrounding the shire. He was vaguely surprised not to see any hide or hair of Guy of Gisborne there.
"Um…hi," he rubbed his suddenly sweaty palms on his pants, "I'm Much, Earl of Bonchurch…"
"We know who you are," the Sheriff smiled at him, making him feel small and insignificant, "and I think you were a naughty little boy for listening in. Didn't your parents tell you never to eavesdrop on your betters?"
Much didn't even get a chance to reply as a sudden painful blow to the back of his head sent him sprawling to the ground. Before blackness claimed his vision and he lost consciousness he could hear the evil laughter of the Sheriff ringing in his ears.
OUTSKIRTS OF NOTTINGHAMSHIRE
Night had fallen and they had set up camp within a small cluster of woods to protect them from the windy elements of the open fields and from any ambush by bandits or outlaws in the area. The four guards that had accompanied them rotated their watches, wary of any attackers.
But Robin was completely oblivious to anything happening around him, as he shifted in his bedroll, a dream consuming him.
He stood in the latest carnage that graced the bloody sands of the area they had fought in. The locals called this place Arsuf, thirty miles north of Jaffa, the city that the King had originally planned to take to launch another offensive at Saladin. They were fresh from their victory at Acre, though it was won with a lot of losses to the King's army. It was 1191 and King Richard felt confident that his push towards Jerusalem was going well.
The rubble of the town of Arsuf surrounded him along with the limbs of those he had cut down. Saladin had ambushed them on their march and Robin barely had any time to scramble a force together to prevent the King from being routed. He had sent messengers out to the Third Guard and Second Guards, both whom had been in the area, scouting ahead to send soldiers back to help them defend the city.
Still, he knew that this was only a lull in the battle. They had successfully pushed back two waves of Saladin's forces without the help of the Second and Third Guards, but Robin wondered how long they would be able to hold out. He could feel his limbs deaden from exhaustion, his hands barely holding onto his broadsword as he scanned the area.
His lieutenant, Tomas of Rufford was nearby, shouting orders to the various survivors to clear the field of the bodies of those that fallen, piling them up to the side. They would probably set fire to the bodies later since digging mass graves was a pointless task of wasting energy and manpower. Next to him was Much, hunched over his breaths coming in great gasps. He himself had already steadied his breathing through sheer force of will. There was no need to panic the troops if they saw him as exhausted as he felt. But he gently patted his manservant on the back.
"Take it easy Much…there will be more. Conserve your energy," he said gently.
"Yes – huff – Master," Much nodded before uncorking his water bag and taking a long gulp before corking it back on and putting it within his bag hidden inside his cloak.
Robin walked the battlefield, occasionally helping some of his men up to their feet while Much handed them his water bag to take drinks. He knew that a majority of the King's commanders didn't really associate themselves with the troops, but Robin did so because it reminded him that he still had a piece of humanity left in him and that it wasn't stabbed away by all of the killings he had done.
"Bless you Captain, thank you," a few of the troops called out as the water bag was passed around.
Robin just nodded at them, his eyes occasionally scanning the horizon and rubble filled streets of the town to make sure that no Saracen was going to ambush them.
"Master! A scout!" Much suddenly called out and Robin turned around to see one of their scouts, galloping towards him. A few seconds later, the scout reached him. "Milord! The Third Guard!" the scout took a deep breath and shook his head, "They're-"
"Slow down soldier," Robin placed a firm hand on the man's leg as he shook his head and took a few more deep breaths.
"Sire, they're…you must stop them! It's…horrible!"
"What? What's horrible?" Much had come over and a few of the soldiers were beginning to look interested in the conversation.
"They're pillaging the town, sire…and beating the women and children, even raping them!" the soldier looked completely disgusted.
Robin felt a pit of anger form inside of him. If there was one thing that he didn't like about the King's forces was that a majority of them had no concept of dignity or of chivalry. He had trained the King's Guard not to do any of those things and some of men in the other Guards had also begun to follow his lead. There was no need to further anger the Muslims or Jewish people in the area with their barbaric acts since they were already killing them.
"Tell Tomas I will be heading deeper into the town. This has to stop," he growled, to the scout who nodded and wheeled his horse away to find his second-in-command.
"Master, surely you would take a contingent of men with you?" Much looked worriedly at him as they set off deeper into the rubble-filled town, side-stepping some of the bodies.
"I'm sure the Third Guard would be more than willing to kill anyone who tried to attack them. I need to have a talk with their commander," he set his jaw. The Third Guard had been sent ahead to provide intelligence and a first strike offensive originally for Jaffa but since the ambush at Arsuf, they had been recalled to defend the main forces. Robin heard rumors that the Third Guard were bloodthirsty, ruthless men and loved killing for fun. He heard that they were drunk on the blood shed throughout the whole war and that they had turned into madmen. Even so, it did not justify the pillaging of a town that had already been turned into mostly rubble, nor did it justify the torture and raping of helpless women and children.
He knew the vague area of Arsuf that the Third Guard held and his predictions were right on the mark when he encountered a group of Crusaders pushing two children around; a young girl who was trying to protect her younger brother, the girl looking no more than eight-years-old.
"Excuse me!" he called out loudly, startling the soldiers. The girl immediately took advantage of their momentary distraction and grabbed her brother's hand and ran away.
"Oy! Come back here!" one of the soldiers tried to swipe for them but missed and instead turned upon him and Much. "You better have a good reason you bloody fool for interrupting our fun." All the other soldiers grinned at them in a menacing way but Robin just stared at them with icy cold blue eyes.
"I wouldn't consider it fun to push around and harm a young girl and her brother, would you?" he said in calm tone.
"Who the hell are you?" another one of the soldiers stepped up, completely towering over him. "We're the Third Guard! A pea brain like you better show us some respect!"
"Excuse me-" Robin held up a hand to silence Much who backed down, fuming.
"Uh…hey, Robert…I wouldn't-"
"Shaddup!" the man towering over him named Robert shot back at one of the other soldiers.
"No, I'm serious Robert-"
"When I want your opinion, I'll get it, okay Dennis?!"
"I would listen to your friend there, soldier," Robin raised an eyebrow at Robert before glancing down at his own uniform which held an emblem, indicating what unit he was and what rank he held.
Robert also looked down at the same spot before his face turned as pale as a sheet and he backed up and dropped to one knee.
"Begging your forgiveness milord!" the tall man blubbered, "I mean no disrespect!"
"Where's your commander?" he asked icily.
"Two buildings down on your right sire," the man replied before Robin brushed passed him.
"I expect you lot to clean up your act! Next time, the King will hear about it," he called back as he made his way towards where the soldier had indicated the Third Guard's commander was.
He found James lounging in opulence, surrounded by a few Saracen women and children whom he apparently had taken prisoner. They were serving him with various foods, fanning him, and even massaging him. A well of disgust filled Robin as he was stared at James who looked completely pleased with his surroundings.
"Ah, Robin, good to see you, come, want a date?" James indicated to a bowl of the food sitting next to him, held by a girl who looked no more than five.
"Has a perimeter been set up?" he asked quietly, ignoring the man's question.
"Of course," James shrugged before waving to his men milling about outside beyond the building he was in. "They're doing it."
"And how are you helping the populace out?"
"You jest," James smiled at him, "I am giving them something to do."
"Serve you like slaves," Robin shot back.
"They would do the same to us, if you haven't noticed," James replied, giving him a warning look that Robin completely ignored.
"We are not that barbaric!" he said loudly, startling a few of the women and children, "I would have thought that you'd be out, making sure that the King and the rest of our men are safe!"
"I seem to remember that," James stood up, knocking over the girl who held the plate of dates in the process, "that was your job, you know, to protect the King."
"Yours is the advance guard," he replied, stepping closer so that they were almost nose to nose.
"Tread carefully Captain…you wouldn't want an incident to happen do you?" James said in an icy tone.
"Incident?" Robin gave him a half menacing smile, "I would like to think that applies to you."
"Oh, no…I mean for you, in battle. It be a pity," the commander of the Third Guard replied, letting the rest of his statement hang.
"I'll be keeping an eye on you James," Robin said before stepping back and turning to the women and children who were staring at the two of them. "You're all free to go. Bury your husbands, your brothers, your sons, and your families. Leave this city before sundown and you may survive. Saladin's men will be back," he said in his best Arabic as possible.
Apparently his message got through as all of the Saracen people there stared at him for a second before running out of the room, some of the women chatting rapidly in Arabic to their children, ushering them along. Robin pointedly stared at James, daring him to do anything, but the man just gave him a blank look.
Seeing that his work was done, he turned around and started to head back to the other side of the town…
Robin blinked open his eyes suddenly, finding himself staring up at the starry night sky of the English countryside. His left thigh ached slightly from the dream as he remembered James' warning from the past. Saladin had launched a counter attack right after sundown, after prayer time and in the thick of the battle, Robin didn't know if it was one of Saladin's men that had sliced at him or perhaps James himself, but he had received a deep wound to his left thigh. It had nearly put him out of commission, but he had managed to keep himself upright on his horse and launch a successful route of part of Saladin's forces away from the King and back towards the waiting hungry swords of the Third Guard.
Shaking his head, he propped himself up from his bedroll and looked around, seeing that almost everyone except for the lone guard on watch a bit away from the camp was asleep. He had a suspicious feeling about James ever since his men found him in the trap they had set up. Though he never voiced his suspicions, hoping that the man had changed for the better during his time in the Crusades, he couldn't help but wonder.
He sat up and glanced down at his pack that he used as a makeshift pillow. Rummaging through it, he pulled out the letter James gave to him from King Richard and stared at the red seal of King Richard's signet ring holding the paper together and also at the seal within the letter. He scooted a bit closer to the fire for a better look at the seal.
After a few minutes of staring at it, he put the letter down and pulled out another piece of parchment, this one also with the seal of King Richard and the seal within the letter. This particular piece of parchment was the letter Richard left for him when he was recovering from his near-fatal wound before the King headed south.
He picked up the letter James gave to him in one hand and held the letter from Richard himself in the other, staring at the loopy strokes of writing. He wasn't an expert on handwriting, but both seemed to bear the same style…
Suddenly his eyes found something puzzling and he peered closer at the bottom of both letters, right where the seal of the signet ring was. He remembered getting a couple of letters from King Richard, including one where he was called up to volunteer in the King's Crusade. He also remembered receiving messages on the battlefields of the Holy Lands with Richard's mark on them. He also remembered one particular incident where the King had accidentally broke his signet ring in a fit of rage during one of their earlier campaigns against Saladin.
He immediately had another commissioned for him, with the same seal, but there was one particular change within the seal. It wasn't a square outline anymore; rather, it was circular in shape.
This seal that James gave him bore the mark of a square signet…the one he received from the King personally was circular in shape.
Robin folded both parchments back up again and placed them inside the folds of his clothing, before he glanced over to the others in their party. He didn't know what connection James had with Sheriff Vaysey, but he knew that he was in a precarious position. There were probably only two reasons why James was taking him to London, it could have been to send him back to the Holy Lands and get rid of a pest within Vaysey's realm, but it could also mean throwing him into the dungeons of Prince John's castle.
He knew he had to get back to Nottingham…everyone was in grave danger.
NOTTINGHAM TOWN
"Where did he go?" Djaq asked throwing her hands up in frustration as she looked around at the peasants milling about in the early morning hours of Nottingham town.
They had all spent part of yesterday looking for Much before turning in for the night at Locksley manor, vowing to return the next day to Nottingham to look for their friend. Allan had made a couple of quips about Much being so worried and lonely that he had gotten himself completely drunk in the local pub and was probably spending the night under a table or something.
Now, they had been searching for the past couple of hours, asking peasants and traders if they had seen Much, with not even a word on their erstwhile companion. It was starting to prove frustrating, as evident by Little John beating a helpless grain sack to the point where it burst open.
"I mean, he could have headed after Robin, you know?" Allan shrugged as they walked along, Djaq peeking in a couple of barrels.
"No…I don't think so," Will was staring at a familiar looking horse that had been left on one of the side streets. It was definitely Much's horse as his signature multi-colored poncho-sweater-thing was hanging from one of the bags on the saddle. "Look," he pointed at the horse, "that's his horse. He didn't leave here…"
"Well then, where is he?! We've asked everyone including the Sheriff! No one knows where that idiot went to!" Djaq vented loudly.
"The banner of Prince John is coming! The banner of Prince John is coming!" someone suddenly shouted near them and all stared at each other puzzled, before heading towards the main street of Nottingham to see what was the hubbub about.
They arrived just in time to see men dressed in black armor, all holding spears with the banner of Prince John on them ride into Nottingham, plowing past a few peasants that were unfortunate to have crossed their paths or weren't fast enough to get out of the way.
Djaq seized Will's arm and shook her head in a warning to stop him from doing anything rash. She had a bad feeling about those men on the horses. They looked like the Crusaders that had stormed her family's house at night and slaughtered her father, mother, and twin brother all those nights ago before leaving her for dead in the rubble of their home.
"Make way! Make way!" the lead soldier on one of the horses shouted before he halted in front of the stone steps before the castle. Edward and Marian were hastily making their way down to greet the soldiers.
"What can we do for the Prince's guard?" the Sheriff asked.
"You can admit treason against the Crown," the soldier sneered before gesturing to his men, "arrest Edward Fitzwalter and his daughter."
"No!" Djaq shouted as the rest of the mounted men pointed their spears at the surprised and shocked expressions of Marian and her father before behind them, the guards also drew their swords and pointed it at the two.
"Oh," the soldier said loudly, "and arrest Robin Hood's men too."
Djaq and the others suddenly found themselves surrounded by guards that they didn't know had approached them silently. It was only until a very familiar looking face stepped out from one of the nearby stands that she realized this whole thing, all the letters and everything else afterwards, was one giant set up.
"Pity Locksley can't get you lot out of this one," Guy of Gisborne smiled wolfishly at them.
In the next few hours, peasants that had vocally supported Edward as the Sheriff or Robin Hood were rounded up and chained to the outside of the castle. Djaq, Will, Little John, and Allan were thrown into the dungeons while Edward and Marian were confined to separate quarters, each with a guard posted outside.
Vaysey was reinstated the Sheriff and all looked bleak for the whole of Nottinghamshire.
OUTSKIRTS OF NOTTINGHAMSHIRE
With the knowledge that this whole thing was a charade, Robin watched the guards with careful eyes, his mind thinking of different ways of escaping the eyes of his captor. He needed to return to Nottingham as soon as possible, if it wasn't too late already. He didn't understand if the slowed pace they had been taking was to delay him so that he wouldn't know that they were setting a trap for his friends or was it something else.
He knew that this was probably going to be a stupid idea in the long run, but he never shied away from anything and part of him could already hear Much's plaintive voice telling him not to do it, but he shushed that part up. "James, might I ask you a question?" he glanced over at the Crusader who had a blank look on his face.
"Hmm? Sure," it was now that Robin could see the malice in the Crusader's eyes that wasn't there before. How he could have missed that expression since a few days ago was beyond him, but now he knew better.
"As far as I can tell, these woods don't look like the ones Much and I passed by on our way back from London," he looked around, making another quick head and weapon count of the men that surrounded them, "are you sure we're going the right way?"
"Of course we are, why do you say that?"
"Because," he shrugged, "I think we're going towards Birmingham, not London. Maybe a roundabout route? But from what I remember, Birmingham is known for its trade and for the hub of prisoner transport."
James shook his head, "Robin, you're just worried, that's all. I know it's going to be hard for you to leave your friends, that's why I'm taking this at a slower pace."
"Taking what?"
"Your letter? Your recall from the King to return to the Holy Lands – Robin did you eat some of the wild mushrooms growing by the side of the road last night? Have you gone daft?"
"No, but I think you have," Robin said quietly, staring at James with a hardened gaze, "tell me something, Atherstone; is this really on the Sheriff's orders, or is it Prince John's?"
James stared at him for a split second before a cruel smile curled up on his lips, "I see that you've managed to put two and two together Locksley. I don't know how you did it-"
"-my leg injury and your penchant for cruelty and subterfuge. As I recall, that was what the Third Guard was really good it, wasn't it?"
"It was, but since you now know," he snapped his fingers as they stopped in the middle of the road and Robin looked around to see all four guards surrounding him, their spears and swords pointed straight at him. "Do not resist Locksley."
"I don't intend to," Robin held up his hands in a gesture of surrender, "but do you think taking me to London will be the best thing? If this is truly Prince John or the Sheriff's work, you think my allies would free me?"
"Oh no, Locksley," James' smile got wider, "Prince John doesn't want you in London. He's too smart for that. He knows having you in London, whether or not brought in quietly or publicly wouldn't do well for his own support base. He knows that your mere presence could incite a revolt amongst the peasants and some of the nobles who have been conspiring against him. Whereas yes, he could use you to take down the nobles that rise up against him, it's too much of a hassle."
"No," James shook his head, "we're taking you back to Nottingham. You will be hanged for the whole of the shire to see."
"You know," Robin tilted his head, "the Sheriff did say that once or twice and it never really did work."
"This time it will work, Locksley. Trust me. I have the element of surprise and a few extras that you don't know about," James made a cutting gesture with his hand.
Robin didn't see the blow coming, but he felt a brief flash of pain behind his head before blackness claimed him.
James watched the young man slump into his saddle, knocked out, a wide smile gracing his aristocratic features before he nodded to the other two soldiers who dismounted and proceeded to bind Locksley's hands and feet in shackles. His little plan of revenge was turning out much better than he anticipated and if Prince John upheld his part of the bargain, he would have all of Robin's dearest friends in the dungeons already.
"You should have killed me back in Arsuf, Locksley…" he muttered before wheeling his horse around and started back towards Nottingham.
NOTTINGHAM CASTLE
Marian paced around in the bedchamber that was her prison, the shock of having been betrayed and taken prisoner long gone and now impatience and anxiety was settling in. She didn't know where her father had been taken, but she knew that they wouldn't harm her father because they needed him. A part of her was also worried for Robin, if he knew that this whole thing was a set up by both Prince John and Sheriff Vaysey. Vaysey had come and gloated to her only a few hours before, having been reinstated to his position by a letter he waved in front of her face, apparently signed with the seal of Prince John.
A knock on her door startled her out of her thoughts and she looked up to see the door open to admit the last person she wanted to see at the moment. "Sir Guy," she said neutrally as he stepped in, closing the door behind him. His presence made the small room almost smaller and she involuntarily took a step back. "I thought you were en route to London."
"Don't play coy with me, Marian," Guy's piercing gaze raked hers as he walked closer to her, "I am not here to spar words with you."
"Spar?" Marian gave him a hesitant sad smile, "then was the letter Sir James gave you all a lie?"
He looked away for a second before shaking his head, "No. I do have my lands back, but for a price."
"A price," Marian looked away, finding the knothole on a part of her small end table very interesting.
"I'm sorry, Marian," Guy's sincere and soft tone made her turn back and stare at him again. "I didn't want to do it, but in return of the Gisborne lands and estate, I am now a man of true status, of power."
"Congratulations," Marian desperately wanted to be elsewhere other than talking with Sir Guy. While she would never admit to, especially to Robin, she felt somewhat attracted to the man for his attempts of sincerity towards her, but he also made her afraid of him for his brutal and callous actions. Though she herself had occasionally strung Gisborne along, she had her reasons, especially to feed Robin information and to protect him from Gisborne's wrath.
"The Gisborne estate…is wealthy, with vast lands and holdings. It is bigger than three of the villages in Nottinghamshire put together," he walked away from her and stared out of the single window in her room, out into the afternoon sun that was just dipping to the ground.
"It is the good…for the standings of any noble," he continued in a hesitant voice and Marian started to feel a thrill of dread filling her. He turned around and stared at her with his piercing blue eyes.
"I can save you, Marian," he said, a note of pleading in his voice.
"How?" she replied, the dread growing stronger.
"Marry me."
"But Sir Guy-"
"I know I was wrong to lie to you about King Richard's return almost two weeks ago," Gisborne ducked his head, "and I forgive you for hitting me and then riding off with Locksley-"
Marian didn't miss the note of disgust and derision in his voice when he said Robin's name.
"-but we are still engaged, Marian…"
"You lied to me," Marian couldn't keep the surprise out of her voice as she stared at him openly, "you lied to me and you expect us to be engaged?"
"It's the only way I can save you!" he suddenly shouted, startling her, "it's the only way I can still save you!"
"Still?!" Marian caught his words carefully.
Gisborne shook his head, heaving a deep breath, "Prince John and the Sheriff expect to execute you and your father within the next few days once Locksley is brought back here."
She felt the blood drain out of her face and grabbed one of the bedposts in order to steady herself. Execution? She knew that she had toed and even crossed the line a few times, but execution?!
"I can save you. All you have to do is agree to marry me as soon as possible. You cannot wait for King Richard to return. The suspicion fallen upon you is too great in order to enact a delay. Even the Sheriff won't see that now," in two strides, Gisborne was in front of her and held her tightly by the arms, his face inches from her, "please Marian."
"What about my father?" Marian was still too shocked to comprehend how close they were.
"He's in too deep," Gisborne shook his head, "I cannot save him. Only you, Marian. I do this for you; because…you are my friend and…I…I feel something for you."
It was then that she finally registered how close their bodies were and she stared up into his blue-eyed gaze, seeing the hunger of passion inside of them, reflected back onto her. "If you do feel something for me," she replied coolly, rejecting those passion-filled eyes, "save my father."
He gave a growl of frustration as he suddenly released her and stalked away back towards the door, "I can't Marian! He's in too deep! Prince John and the Sheriff will execute him for usurping the position of Sheriff!"
"On those fake orders!"
"It doesn't matter," he shook his head.
"If you cannot save him, then I am sorry," Marian turned around and stared out of the window, her hands wringing together, "I can't marry you."
There were a few minutes of silence and she knew that he didn't leave. But his next words made her blood run cold. "I am sorry too, milady. I was hoping you could prevent me from carrying out my next orders, but seeing that you can't, I have no choice."
"Choice?" she turned around, tears coming unbidden to her eyes.
"I have orders to kill your father," he said gravely before opening the door and leaving before she had a chance to register what he had said.
It was then that the tears that had been forming in her eyes spilled down her cheeks. "What have I done…" she whispered.
They were all placed in separate cells, except for Djaq who had been thrown into the same cell as Much, and ordered to tend to the battered and bruised man who clearly had been tortured long before they had arrived in the dungeons.
"How is he?" Will asked as he stared across the from the cell that Djaq was in, who was turning Much over, the man's face scrunching up in pain at the movement.
"Shh, shh, it is me, Djaq," Djaq said quietly, "I'm only making sure you don't have anything that could be bleeding on the inside."
"Can you not touch that spot…they've been at it for a while," Will felt a wash of relief fill him as he heard Much complain. He never really told any of the gang as it didn't seem right, but he constantly worried over everyone, especially Robin who seemed to bear so much of an unseen burden on his shoulders. He had to admit, even if he wasn't indebted to Robin for saving his life, the noble did had a persona that exuded confidence, yet a hint of war-weary sadness.
Before, he would follow Robin anywhere, even to the pits of hell and back. But now, one other person also ranked high on the list he would do anything for, Djaq. He was attracted to her strong and forceful personality and the gentle side that he rarely saw from her. He had confessed in a spur of the moment to the others that he loved her, though he would never admit it in front of her, he made it his duty to make sure that she was happy and perhaps would return the feelings he had for her.
But even so, he was glad Much was okay, though looking worst for wear. He had seen the man's heart break at the sight of being left behind by his former master and didn't envy him. He too was sad that Robin had been leaving for the Holy Lands and had childishly pouted in the days following the party at Locksley manor. He felt abandoned and knew that while he had a family in Scarborough, he also felt that the gang was his second family, especially Allan who was like a surrogate brother to him. To him, Robin was the older brother he never had someone he could look up to and emulate.
But now, part of him was afraid; afraid for Robin, for Allan, for the rest of the gang, and especially for Djaq. The Sheriff knew that Djaq was a girl and a horrible feeling washed over him before a deep seeded anger replaced it. If they so much as harm one hair on Djaq…
The rattling sound of the main doors to the dungeons being unlocked brought him out of his thoughts and he looked up to see two guards, the jail keeper, and Sheriff Vaysey walk towards them.
"Ah…just the people I wanted to see," the Sheriff gave them a congenial smile, "how are we feeling right now? Hmm? Not so high and mighty are we? Hmm?"
Will resolved to stay silent in the face of the Sheriff's taunts before and out of the corner of his eyes, he could see that the others were also giving the Sheriff stony looks.
"Well," the Sheriff didn't seemed disturbed by their silence and instead clasped his hands together, "lets get the party started shall we? Take…him!"
Somehow, Will expected the Sheriff to choose him; after all he was the youngest of all of them and probably looked the most stubborn aside from Little John. He didn't protest, didn't say a word as the guards dragged him out of his cell and shook his head imperceptibly at Djaq who looked like she was about to say something as they pushed him down a few stone steps and across to the other side of the dungeons.
The door to the torture chamber room opened with a loud creak and Will took a quick look around for anything that he would be able to use as a tool and spotted a few things. He had a feeling that the Sheriff would torture him until he was unconscious and battered like Much and knew that he didn't have much time to steal one of the tools and place it in his boot before they started.
He tensed, waiting for the inevitable shove that usually came when the guards dumped him into the room…now! As soon as their grips on his arms slackened he pivoted on his feet and punched on the guards in the face, a shot of pain traveling through his arm as his fist also connected with the side of the guard's helmet before he dove towards one of the tables holding a multitude of smallish objects, some with flat sharp ends. Using a few tricks he picked up from Allan and his sleight-of-hand, he pocketed one of the smaller torture tools into his boot before his other hand grasped a slightly bigger object and pointed it like a sword towards the guards, the Sheriff, and the jail keeper.
"Hmm…you've got spirit, I'll give you that," the Sheriff mockingly clapped at him and he continued to stay silent. "Come now, put that thing down…"
The two guards, one of them still shaking his head from the punch that he gave him earlier advanced towards him, their swords drawn. He stared warily at the two of them, backing up slowly until he could feel his back against the wall.
"Let my friends go," Will said, marveling at how steady his voice was while his heart was beating as fast and as loudly as a hammer.
"Or you'll do what, little whelp? You can't do anything and Robin Hood isn't coming to your aide. Oh no," the Sheriff gave him an evil smile, "if at all, I think you'll find that Hood's going to hang first before all of you."
"He'll come," Will stared defiantly at the Sheriff but before he even got a chance to attack the guards, the door suddenly opened and to Will's horror, even more guards came in. He knew that he had an easy chance to overpower the two guards, jail keeper and perhaps the Sheriff, but now with at least eight more coming in…
"You see…you can't win," the Sheriff smiled as the eight guards that had just come in all drew their swords and pointed it at him.
Outnumbered, Will dropped his makeshift weapon and held up his hands in surrender.
OUTSIDE NOTTINGHAM TOWN
The first thing that greeted Robin was a painful throbbing in the back of his head as he cracked open his eyes. The second thing was a vision of his hands and legs bound to shackles, one running underneath the belly of his horse and around his legs, the other tying his hands together.
Blinking his eyes a few more times he glanced up and resisted the urge to wince as the bright sunlight beat its rays down upon his eyes.
"Good afternoon Robin, so glad you can join us," James' oily voice made him turn in his saddle to see the Crusader riding next to him, a congenial smile on his face.
He noticed that James was carrying his recurved bow and arrows and a quick glance around himself showed that he had been stripped of all of his weaponry, including his favorite Saracen sword.
"We aren't that far out of Nottingham town," James replied before gesturing further down the dirt path they were traveling. In the distance, Robin could see the dark grey walls of Nottingham and beyond that, the town's structures. He realized that either he had been knocked out for a long time or they really had been traveling very slowly in a wide circle.
A wave of dizziness suddenly passed over him and this time, Robin couldn't really keep the grimace off of his face and he leaned against his horse's mane, half-closing his eyes.
"Water?" James said and offered him a water sack to which he took and drank down a few gulps, soothing his parched throat and driving the dizziness away.
"Thank you," he handed the water bag back, "so why are you taking me back to Nottingham? I'm sure you know I've made my escapes from there many times."
"Public spectacle, Locksley, public spectacle," James shrugged, "and don't worry, I have my finest guards and those that Prince John provided for me to keep a strict eye on you."
Robin gave him a skeptical look. Already a plan was starting to form in his head. He knew that if he escaped now, he wouldn't put it beneath James to torture or even kill his friends, the peasants, or even Edward or Marian. He had to escape from within Nottingham castle and also make sure that the others were safe first before he disappeared.
"Each one of the guards has been told that if they let you escape or if they let any of your little friends escape, the punishment would be severe," James smiled, "and of course, they've sworn loyalty to me, so it was easy to persuade them."
"I'm sure," Robin replied shortly, a frown on his face.
"I'm only doing this on orders, Locksley," James noticed the frown on his face; "I really have changed from my times in the Holy Lands. It's only because word of your exploits and defiance of Sheriff Vaysey has spread so much throughout the country that Prince John's worried about the populace emulating you."
"Nice to know I'm famous," Robin smiled crookedly, glad that his actions were making a difference.
"More like infamous," James shook his head, "Prince John is worried so when I returned here, he tasked me to set this all up."
"Clever," Robin saw that the walls of Nottingham town were closer now, "I had a feeling something was wrong the first time I saw you in my little trap."
"Am I that bad, Locksley?" James gave him a sardonic smile.
"Quite," Robin shot back, "I can still smell the blood on you; the smell of a bloodthirsty murderer."
The back-handed slap to his face stung, but Robin took it in silence and instead gave a pointed look at the Crusader who was readjusting his gloves. "Your debacle with the Sheriff a couple of weeks ago really made the Prince furious. He is expecting results and I expect to deliver on them."
Robin didn't say anything, sensing that the conversation was over and instead stared out into the distance, the town's walls inching ever closer. He had to admit, this was a very clever plan.
NOTTINGHAM CASTLE
They brought Allan in, one side of his face an ugly purple color, his cheek completely bruised. That same purple color traveled down his neck and past the folds of his clothes, Will noticed before the guards dumped his unconscious body into the same cell that he was in along with Djaq and Much, the latter of the two looking worst for wear, but otherwise awake.
Will was still in too much pain from his own torture session a few hours ago to help Djaq and Much drag Allan's body over for their resident physician to look and instead gave a small nod of acknowledgment as Allan blearily opened his eyes and stared at him before Djaq snapped her fingers in front of his face to make him look at her.
"Who's next?" one of the guards asked the jail keeper before glancing at Little John who was the only one left who sat his own cell. "Him?"
"Nah…too brutish. The Sheriff has something special planned for him," the jail keeper shook his head.
"The boy then?" the guard jerked his head at Djaq who looked up from her ministrations to Allan, her eyes narrowed.
"She's a girl, ya know?" the jail keeper leered and Will immediately felt anger fill him. Pain be damned, no one was going to touch Djaq, least of all the jail keeper and his horrid torture machines.
"Stay away from her," he growled as he forced his aching and protesting body to move to cover Djaq just as Much also half-stepped in front of her at the same time.
"Ah…protective aren't we? Now we know why you lot keep a girl like her around, eh?" the jail keeper waggled his eyebrows suggestively as a sick feeling pushed some of the anger away from Will. "Whaddaya lot gonna do? Bleed on me?"
The guards made a move to drag Djaq out before another one burst into the dungeons and ran up towards them.
"We've been summoned," the new guard said hastily before an unseen signal went around the two guards and jail keeper before they shut the cell and locked it.
"You're lucky little girl," the jail keeper muttered before slinking after the guards, leaving them alone.
Will let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding before sliding painfully back to the cell floor, letting himself rest against the rocky wall. Much also sat down and put his head in his hands before staring at Djaq who resumed her examination of Allan.
"How is he?" Much asked quietly.
"Bruises…that is all," she replied before patting Allan gently on the head, "get some rest Allan. It looks like they've only pulled a few of your muscles and gave you bruises."
Allan nodded wearily before turning his head to the side as he fell unconscious again.
"Are you okay?" Will asked, staring at Djaq who leaned against the wall, her face covered in sweat.
"Yes," she glanced at him and nodded, "thank you…both of you."
He wanted to say more, but it was more for a private time and instead settled for nodding before reaching into his boot and pulling out the small torture tool he had hidden in there before he himself was tortured. "John? Do you have the piece of wood?" he glanced over to the big man who nodded and pulled out a rectangular piece of wood that had a weird form that looked somewhat like a key and tossed it across the bars at Much who caught it and handed it to him.
As soon as he had been roused to consciousness a couple of hours ago he told Little John to break the stool in the corner of his cell and hand him a few of the wooden pieces so he could chip away at them and make a makeshift key of sorts, just like how they had escaped from the castle's vault a month and half ago.
If there was one thing he could count on was that the locksmith who created the locks for the boxes he, his father, and brother made during tax collection were made by the same locksmith who created the cell door locks, and probably just about every lock within the castle.
Last time he was able to create the key in a few minutes, but then again he had all of his tools and weapons on him, this time, he only had the single tool he stole from the torture chamber. It was going to be a while before they went anywhere…
Ignoring his protesting body he hunched over the piece of wood and continued to work on his key, hoping that by distracting himself with making their means to escape, he wouldn't have to focus on the pain throughout his body and the sympathy pain from his friends.
"After we get out of here," Much suddenly said out of the blue, nearly startling Will, "we have to go to London to warn Robin…"
"I don't mean to be funny," Allan croaked from his place on the ground, "but…what about Lady Marian and her father? Robin's not going to be happy if we don't spring her from this place."
"I'm sure they won't harm her-"
"She's too valuable, so is her father," Djaq interrupted Much who numbly nodded. "They won't execute her until they're sure Robin gets back to save her."
"Robin is our priority," Little John said gruffly from his cell.
Silence lapsed in the dungeons a few seconds later, only punctuated by small groans of pain from Allan as Djaq continued her examination to make sure he was all right and by the tapping sounds Will made in his corner. But everyone knew that time was of the essence…something big was going to happen, and soon.
When they threw him into a small, but sparsely furnished room in the castle instead of the dungeons, it had caught Robin by surprise. Before the door closed, he saw that they had posted at least a guard outside to prevent anyone from rescuing him or from him to escape. The window in the room was just a few narrow slits in the stone walls and his sleeping pallet was a wooden plank filled with hay. A single torch dimly lit the room, and even the torch was placed high enough that even if he jumped, his fingers barely brushed the edges of the torch holder.
Overall, a very secure room that they placed him in, much cleverer than placing him in the dungeons where he could have shouted insults at the guards and then stole their keys as they approached him.
Glancing around, his first thought was figuring out if anything in the room was usable for an escape. Setting fire to the hay bed was not an option unless he wanted to choke to death from the smoke. Plus that would give James and the Sheriff too much of a satisfaction to see him die from his own ineptitude. He knew that by now, his men were probably either caught or were being hunted down if they escaped. He had held out some hope of maybe one of them escaping, but that hope was fading fast, especially since he had seen a lot of peasants sitting in chains as he was paraded into the castle.
James had made it a grand show of leading him around in chains before proceeding to let the guards shove him and poke him with their weapons to his room. He still bore a number of shallow cuts and scratches from the ordeal, and his ratted clothes attested to that, but Robin ignored his small wounds. They would heal in a day or two…but the look of defeat many of the peasants wore when they saw him being paraded around was enough to set a very deep seeded anger in the core of his being.
He would get his revenge against James for doing this to him, to his men, to Marian and Edward, and to the people of Nottinghamshire. As clever of a trick this was, to punish the peasantry and nobles who were only following orders, even if they were illegal, it just wasn't right. No one should be punished just because they supported the other faction.
Suddenly his roaming eyes caught on the door on the opposite side of the room, near the windows and walked over to the door. Twisting the handle, he pushed against the door, but it wouldn't budge. He tried pulling on it, but it still wouldn't budge. However, he did notice that keyhole was near the handle and peered through it. The door lead to another room and his eyes caught a brief flash of color before he heard the other room's door open and the next sound floored him completely.
"What can I do for you Sir Guy?" Marian's voice filtered through the keyhole.
Marian kept her voice neutral and polite even though seeing the dark-haired man again made her heart cry out in anguish. She dared not look through the keyhole of the door connecting her room to the next one over since Guy had told her that he had orders to execute her father. She didn't want to see the room next to hers as that was where her father had been in during his last moments.
She knew that they had taken her father out of his room during the middle of the night and he was probably lying somewhere, dead.
"May I come in?" he asked stiffly.
"Seeing that you are holding me prisoner here, I don't see why you should ask," she replied shortly and sarcastically.
"Marian, I…"
"What?" she narrowed her eyes, "you want to apologize to me? For what? For killing my father? For confirming what I dreaded for so long? That you are just a common executioner? An assassin?"
"That's a low blow," he replied, unable to keep the hurt out of his eyes, but Marian ignored it.
Instead, she turned and walked back into the room, her arms crossed over her chest, unable to keep the tears out of her eyes this time. The silence between them lasted a while but she could feel Guy's eyes on her the whole time.
"I…have a horse for you," he said quietly, almost apologetically.
She turned around and faced him unable to keep the contempt out of her eyes and face as she saw him holding a bundle of dark clothing tied with a piece of string out towards her. "You're offering me a way to escape?"
"I'm…sorry," he looked away, "I know you may hate me for my actions, but I still truly believe that you would be able to redeem me and heal my soul for all of the transgressions I have done in my life." He tossed the bundle to her and she caught it, staring at the bundle. In ways, the outfit he had prepared for her looked reminiscent of her Nightwatchman clothes she had burned a couple of weeks ago.
Her hands curled against it in anger and she walked over to him before shoving the clothes back into his chest. "Keep it," she said curtly, "I don't need your gifts or show of wealth anymore. You have your lands for that. You murdered my father. Do not think lightly of asking for my forgiveness."
He stared at her with unscrutinable eyes for a few seconds before he turned and walked out. "Keep her door locked at all times," he ordered the guard who closed the door behind him, leaving Marian alone once more.
Robin counted slowly to thirty after Gisborne had left to make sure that he wasn't listening in before knocking gently on the door separating his room and Marian's room. When she didn't to answer, he knocked again. "Marian," he whispered, hoping she heard him.
"Robin?!" her surprised, but hushed voice came back and he saw her kneel beside the keyhole, before part of her face and her sharp blue eyes met his and he smiled. "Robin, it is you! What are you…no…"
"I have a plan," he reassured her and noticed that her face quirked up into a skeptical look. "All right," he admitted, "half a plan."
"Find a way to get out of here. They will kill you-"
"I'm not going anywhere without you or my men-"
"They will kill you! The Sheriff has already planned it! Where's Sir James?"
"Planning with the Sheriff," he replied before a knowing look passed over her face.
"Then it was all concocted by the Sheriff…like what he did with the fake King Richard."
"Not quite," Robin shook his head, "I think James is the main instigator in all of this…on Prince John's orders."
"The Prince?!"
He nodded before looking down then back up at her, wishing he could see her whole face instead of just a sliver of it. "Is it true? Your father…?"
"I…don't know," the sadness returned to her eyes and his heart went out to her. He wanted so badly to hold her and comfort her for her loss… "I don't want to believe it…but…"
"Marian," he tried to comfort her with his voice, "cry if you have to. I will be here."
She smiled sadly at him before shaking her head, "You're always trying to be the noble one, aren't you? Always trying to put up a brave front; this is all a game to you."
"Marian-"
"I am not some tiny teacup that can be broken," she continued, angry, "don't think about coddling me like some child."
Robin nearly banged his head against the door in frustration and instead, settled for thumping his hand against the stone wall. Did she have to turn every single conversation they had into a fight?! He knew that she was hurting very much in her own heart from her loss, so why couldn't she be open with him? He was only trying to provide her with some measure of comfort and she was throwing it back into his face.
"I don't know why people think that I should be someone to dote upon. I am just Marian, a simple girl who wants to do things on her own. I want to take care of my father, and make sure those that are unfortunate receive help-"
Robin realized that she was still murmuring to herself and he strained to look beyond the keyhole and saw her slide down to the wall next to her door, tears falling openly from her face and realized that she wasn't taking her anger out at him…
"It's okay Marian…just…cry," he said quietly.
He settled himself by the door, leaning against the frame so that his had a partial view of her face. She was such a strong woman and to see her like this almost broke her heart. It also made him realize that he had said hurtful things to her, especially about her father. She loved her father terribly and he knew that he had only said those things because he had no parents, not ever since he was a young boy…
"I'll be here," he said softly.
Sunlight filtered through the narrow windows of Marian's room and she awoke with a particular beam of sunlight that had been slowly inching its way over with the passage of time finally hit her square in her left eye. She stretched and worked out a painful crick in her neck that had occurred from her sleeping against the wall next to the door connecting her room with Robin's.
She had been so surprised to hear and see him there…she would have thought that by now, he would have been imprisoned in London or worst, sent back to the Holy Lands. By having him here, she felt her spirits rise, though she would never admit it to him. He gave her hope, even though he didn't really have a plan to escape, but she knew that his clever mind would come up with something as daring as escaping from Nottingham castle – he always did.
There was a faint skittering sound across the stone floor and she turned towards the source of the sound to see a folded piece of paper with a red seal on it skid to a halt in the middle of her room, having been slipped under her door only moments before.
She got up and picked up the paper before unsealing the flimsy sheet, noting that the seal belonged to Sir Guy.
Dear Marian,
Your father is still alive, currently held within Locksley Manor for his own protection until I can secure your release. I have arraigned a transport for the two of you to go to Birmingham where you will be under the protection of the family of Tobias of Lachlann. I could not tell you before because James has spies everywhere. My order to kill your father comes directly from Prince John, but he will not know of this matter; I will see to it.
I hope you will forgive me for the deception and perhaps in the future, come to love me as I love you.
Sincerely,
Guy
Marian re-read the letter twice before folding it back up and placing it within the folds of her clothing. Her initial assumptions about Guy were wrong it seemed…and her own feelings for him had been thrown into chaos again. She knew that Robin was right and perhaps jealous of her relationship with Guy, her friendly attitude towards him and for her to overlook the worse aspects of his personality, but she knew that Guy had a hidden heart, one that was willing to give her anything to make her happy.
The fact that he had spared her father showed that he cared lot about her and she knew that she had to apologize. She was afraid of him, yet felt attracted towards him.
The unlocking of her door drew her out of her thoughts and she unconsciously smoothed the wrinkles out of her clothes as the door opened to admit James of Atherstone, the last man she wanted to see. Behind her was Sheriff Vaysey, a beaming smile on his face as he practically danced into her room.
"Ah, Lady Marian," he greeted politely, "my condolences on the death of your father."
"No doubt under the Prince's orders," she replied.
"Well, we had sufficient evidence that he was the instigator of a potential rebellion and the Sheriff here provided it," James nodded in acquiesce of the Sheriff who just clasped his hands together before walking towards the other door in her room, the one connecting her room with Robin's and examined it, knocking on parts of it.
"This connects to the room next to yours doesn't it?" the Sheriff asked and she glanced quickly at the door before back at James, not knowing what to say.
"I'll take that as a yes," Vaysey gave her a brief smile before turning back to the door and suddenly pounded on it hard, rattling it. "Can you hear me Hood?! I know you're in there!"
Marian stared at James who shook his head and looked at her, "I've also heard rumors from the Sheriff that you have been consorting with Locksley and while I place little to no stake in rumors, they are whispered so loudly that I can't simply ignore them.
"However I can say that I can overlook those rumors if you are willing to travel to London where you will be protected by the Prince's good graces," James continued.
"Where I will become his whore," Marian shot off and received an astonished look from the Crusader.
"I told you she speaks her mind," the Sheriff stopped his pounding and walked back over to them.
"The only offer I will take is the freedom of the peasants and all those deceived by the Prince's trick," she knew that both the Sheriff and James were trying to have her admit her association with Robin.
James stared at her for a few seconds in silence before shrugging, "Then this is unfortunate, milady. I would hate to see such a beautiful face like yours be stained with tears and anguish tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?"
"Why tomorrow is the execution of Robin Hood and his men! Goodie," the Sheriff said sarcastically.
"You will watch along with his men and the populace of the shire as we hang Locksley," James said almost congenially, "it will be the observance of justice to show that anyone who defies the Crown will be punished and executed, swiftly."
"And what happens afterwards?"
"Well, my dear, you will get your trial, after all, you aren't an outlaw. If you are found guilty, well…you know what comes next," the Sheriff said, smiling nastily before walking out of the door, waving a jaunty goodbye.
"Good day, milady," James gave her a short bow before following her out, closing the door behind him, leaving her alone once more.
Author's Notes:
Okay, who thought I was actually going to send Robin back to Jerusalem? Hah…I'd rather have him here in Nottingham where I can have sooooo much fun with him. I've finished part 3 already, but that's being tweaked/beta-ed on, so happy reading folks! Also, I usually chapter my stories about 7-8 pages on MS Word typed, so they're not usually this long. This is supposed to give an episodic feel to the story (3-episodes).
