. . .
"What are you going to do?" Much asked frantically, his voice rising a couple of octaves, "You can't just let her die!"
Robin frowned and loosed an arrow.
. . .
As the arrow sliced through the rope and stuck into the wooden post in the center of the scaffold, the Sheriff chuckled.
"Nice try, Hood," his voice grated on Marian like sand in a fresh wound, "But we've thought of that. She's tied to the post, and every time you break the rope we replace it and give her a little punishment for your naughty behaviour. Come out, and we'll let her go."
The girl cried out as the hangman slapped her hard twice and then drew down a second rope and fitted it over her head.
"Alright, Vaisey," Robin's voice rang out as he sauntered carelessly out of the woods with his bow over one arm, "Here I am, now let her go."
"Very good..." he drew out the words as he nodded to the hangman to release the child, "Now that you've decided to join our little party, we can get down to business."
Much, watching from the woods, desperately wished that his master had divulged his plan before he left... because he had a sinking feeling that Robin didn't really have one and was improvising as usual.
"Now," the Sheriff leaned back in his chair slightly, and watched as his guards closed in around Robin, "I could just hang you right here and now, but the whole village has turned up for our little show and we don't want to cheat them, do we? No. So let's make things a bit more interesting, shall we?"
As the sheriff glanced their way, a line of guards parted to reveal a pen filled with children, and next to it a small campfire.
"Do you know what those are?" he couldn't keep the smile off his face as Robin's brow furrowed, and he walked closer to where the outlaw stood, speaking quietly, "Those are my special guests, here to help me convince you not to leave the party early. All of the children in this whole town are in that pen, and either you are going to die, or they are. Now, before you get all dramatic on me, allow me to explain the program and your part in it. There are only two things that get on my nerves every single day; the fact that you are still alive, and Gisborne whining about his unrequited love. And killing you right now would only solve one of my problems. So I've come up with a plan that will make everyone happy. Gisborne wants that woman that was your betrothed before you left, and you want your freedom. So, you are going to fight each other for your prize. But I'll let you in on a little secret... Gisborne is going to win because if you were to beat him, all of those children would get - shall we say - toasty."
"You make me sick," Robin responded just as quietly, "You have no idea how many times I have spared your life. It won't happen again."
"No doubt," the confession did nothing to dampen his enjoyment in knowing that he had the upper hand, "So, you have a choice; either you fight Gisborne, lose, and die alone at noon, or you fight Gisborne, win, and have a lot of local company in your trip to hell. Do you understand?"
. . . .
Yes, I know... my stories have not been proof-read.