Chapter 4

The outlaws made Robin as comfortable as they could. Tuck gathered what healing herbs he could find and mashed them into a paste. He applied this foul smelling concoction to the angry gash and wrapped it tightly with rags.

John snared a couple of rabbits and roasted them on a spit. Nazir had gathered some wild berries and found a spring of cool water. He made a refreshing drink for Robin.

Robin took it with gratitude but inwardly he heaped blame on himself for slowing them down. Perhaps his father was right. Not everyone is born to greatness. That had been his father's mantra as Robin had tried at many tasks. He was that bit slower than his father's prized swordsman, he wasn't quite as good a horseman as their castle guards.

He had learned to accept his father's frown of disapproval, it did not matter. No ones feelings were hurt but his own but this was different. He was chosen to lead this group of men and now the youngest of them was missing. He was somewhere injured and needed him possibly to save his very life. As he lay there in the dark, the others sleeping around him , Robin set his mouth in a grim line as he stared up into the trees. He would not halt their progress tomorrow, he told himself. He would find the boy tomorrow.

~o~

Mathew was stalling for time. He held them at bay but to what end. He was hopelessly outnumbered but he refused to give way. He would not let them take the boy.

"We hear he's injured. He'll likely die anyway Mathew. Better this way.." Elrick gestured to the others,

"They've brought clubs and sticks. It will be quick, he won't suffer. We can dispose of him in the swamp."

"Elrick, he's just a boy. This would be a heinous act of cruelty. Is this what we've come to?"

"I'm sorry Mathew, people have died for looking Lord Gisborne in the eye, if they find this outlaw here they'll burn this village to the ground and kill us all. No, we must act."

He signalled to the others and they ran past Mathew towards the barn. Mathew could only look on helpless as his wife screamed and struggled with them. Soon after the boy was dragged out.

"Don't drag him like that, you'll open the wound," Mathew called as they dragged him between them. He could see clearly that it was too late, a fresh patch of scarlet had formed quickly on the bandage and spread across his abdomen. Much grimaced in pain, his eyes shut tight as he was pulled along.

They all stood in the yard wondering how best to kill him. their torches illuminating the scene.

Much had lapsed into unconsciousness which was probably just as well.

"Well. someone start," Mark the shepherd said looking from one to the other. "He's just a boy, he don't bite. Someone hit him."

"You hit him then," Paul Ramsdon roared at him. "You're so keen, you hit him,"

Mark raised his weapon snarling at the other man. "How bout I start in on you,"

A scuffle broke out, the two men grappling with each other, others moved in to break it up. Much had regained consciousness by now and he pulled from his captors and went to run. All stopped as they realised and watched him for a moment as he staggered towards the forest. He crumpled to the ground in a heap just feet away from the first tree.

"We can't kill him," Paul muttered.

"I know that," Mark roared. "Damn you, Mathew, damn you to hell for bringing this upon us." He turned in frustration and walked over to check on the boy.

~o~

Robin passed a bad night, fever brought on hideous nightmares. He could see Much struggling up ahead, he could clearly see him trying to walk but he could not get to him. All at once it was raining hot painful blood. He could not understand why the rain was painful but he had to get to Much and just couldn't. The rain was too painful. He came awake with a jump. Marion raised her head and gazed at him in concern. Her warm familiar scent was comforting.

"Are you alright?" She put a hand to his head. "Robin, you're burning up,"

"I'm fine, it was just a dream," he told her.

She shook her head, "you are not fine Robin that wound has brought a sickness."

"I'm fine," he snapped as if saying could make it so.

He stared out into the wilderness his pale features wearing a haunted expression.

"I'll see to it Marion, I'll see to it when we find the boy,"

"You're hard on yourself." She told him softly as she reached up to stroke his cheek.

He took hold of her hand and kissed it. He then took her in his arms and settled back down.

"He didn't choose this life. It was...foisted upon him," Robin spoke with some anger.

"You didn't either," she looked up at him in the darkness, she could see his eyes clearly in the moonlight.

"I did," he nodded, "I had choices. That boy had no choices. They burned the mill where he lived, killed his parents, killed his brother. He had no choice but to turn outlaw. He's not particularly good...but he has no choice. It's the only road open to him. We are all he has. At his age I was given a fine stallion for my birthday and I spent the summer in Cambridge enjoying a festival. I doubt he's ever been to a real festival."

"You think a lot about these things Robin,"

"No it's just, the world has to be a fairer place Marion. It has to be as accommodating to the Much's of this world as it is to the likes of Guy of Gisborne. Justices and choices for all."

Marion smiled in the darkness. "And you wonder why Herne picked you,"