Chapter 9: Ambush

"Robin! Master!" Much's yell disturbed the quiet of the forest as he came running towards the camp, stumbling and tripping over tree roots and fallen branches in his haste. Robin and John stood as Cassie looked up from the trousers she was darning, and Allan, who had been dozing, awoke with a start.

Much skidded to a stop, bending over as he panted. "There's…someone…" he gasped. "Someone in the trap!"

The gang moved into action seamlessly, shouldering weapons and following Robin before splitting up and moving into position stealthily, forming a circle around the trap. A man dangled from a tree, ankles tied by a rope.

"Who are you?" Robin asked, an arrow nocked and pointed at the intruder.

"A villager!" the man replied, his voice trembling. "A villager from Clun. I come to ask for your help."

Robin considered him for a long moment. He looked innocent and did not appear to be armed. He nodded at Cassie. "Cut him down."

The girl scrambled up onto the lower branches of the tree, pulling a dagger from her boot and slicing through the rope. John stood below the man, lowering him to the ground to prevent him from falling on his head.

The man staggered as he tried to stand, as the blood had rushed to his head whilst he hung upside down. The gang waited for him to recover before Robin became impatient.

"You said you want our help."

"Yes," the man replied, looking at Robin imploringly. "I come on behalf of the village of Clun. One of our men has been arrested for thieving. He is due to hang at dawn."

"What did he steal?"

"A brace of rabbits."

A murmur rippled through the group. "The noose? For stealing a couple of rabbits?" Allan voiced their disbelief.

The man shuffled his feet slightly. "He took them from Gisborne."

Robin tensed, as the others eyed each other nervously. They were not surprised that Gisborne would assign such cruel punishment for simple thievery, nor were they surprised that Robin looked ready to go and tackle Gisborne himself. They were just afraid of the fire in his eyes.

"Where are they keeping him?" Robin's voice simmered with barely suppressed rage. "In the castle dungeon?"

The man nodded. Robin looked round at his men.

"Robin…" Much started warningly.

"It'd be suicide!" Allan told him. "We haven't been to the castle for months, and for good reason."

Cassie was silent, exasperated, knowing there was no point in trying to argue. She had soon learned how to read the men, and Robin was perhaps the most expressive of all. He had that look in his eyes, that expression of irrepressible boyishness that said he was ready to put the world to rights.

John just gave a barely audible sigh and banged his staff against the ground. "We go after dark."

XX

It was surprisingly easy to get into the castle. Allan was wary, Much downright suspicious, thinking they were walking into a trap – but as Robin reminded them, they had not broken into the castle since before the Holy Land. There was no reason for the Sheriff to expect an attack.

Arriving at the dungeon John took great pleasure in knocking out the jailor before taking up guard at the entrance. Allan hid in the shadows further down the corridor, keeping watch.

It was Cassie's first time entering the dungeons and she tried not to choke on the stench or the sight of the filth coating the ground. As Much and Robin hastened towards the back of the dungeon, glancing in each cell to find the prisoner, Cassie pulled her scarf up over her nose and walked up the left hand side.

"Cassie?"

Cassie froze; she knew that voice, weak and tired as it was. Taking two steps backwards she stopped at the door to a cell and slowly turned her head.

Her gasp drew Robin and Much to her, along with the Clun villager whom they had swiftly freed from his imprisonment. "What is it?" Robin asked urgently as Much cast a nervous glance over his shoulder.

Cassie ignored him, stepping closer to the cell and gripping the bars with her hands. The man imprisoned inside slowly placed his own palms over her fingers and squeezed her hands gently.

"Why are you here, Cam?" Cassie asked her old friend.

XX

Cam sat in the outlaw's camp, gratefully gulping down a flask full of water. He tipped the last drops over his head, rubbing at his face to try and remove the traces of dungeon grime that clung to his skin.

Robin and Much were watching him, waiting impatiently for him to tell them what had happened to him since disappearing without trace from Stonewell. Cassie was desperate to know as well, but settled for clutching his hand rather than badgering him to tell her what had happened.

Cam looked up at Cassie. "I'm sorry, Cass. I was trying to get revenge for Farrell, I didn't think –"

"Stop," Robin ordered. "We need to wait for the others."

They didn't have to wait long before the door to the camp opened and Allan and John entered, having returned from escorting the villager they had rescued back home to Clun. As soon as they were settled with a piece of bread and some water each, Robin nodded to Cam to continue.

"You all know that Farrell got killed, right?" he asked the assembled outlaws. They all nodded. "One of the guards told Sloane that Farrell helped Cass to escape, and I knew who it was. Wanted my revenge didn't I? So I went to his house and killed his chickens."

Robin sighed. What had Nottinghamshire come to, when the cruellest form of revenge was killing someone else's animal? A chicken was especially valuable as a possession, providing eggs every day and a hearty meal should hunger drive the owner to kill and cook the bird. "How did you end up in the dungeons?" he asked.

"Got caught, didn't I? Thought I'd just get a spell in the stocks or a bit of a beating but Sloane had me hauled off to the castle. Been in there for a few weeks, scared me out my wits it did, didn't know what they were going to do with me."

"Lucky we came, you'd have been for the noose," Allan told him. Cassie shuddered and squeezed her friend's hand tighter.

"Lucky for you, you mean," Cam replied with a grin. Robin raised an eyebrow at him. "Got some useful info for you haven't I?" He tapped his nose. "Inside info."

"Speak up, then," Allan encouraged impatiently.

"Learn some very interesting things in the dungeons. The guards don't worry about secrecy down there; what're we going to do, we're locked up!" Cam took a bite of bread, clearly relishing his importance as the deliverer of useful information. "Few nights ago a pair were talking, said they were being dispatched to guard a wagon coming down from up north. Donation to the King from an estate near Sheffield, they're bringing in to Nottingham on the way down to London."

The outlaws all looked at each other, eyebrows raised, communicating without words. They knew what this meant; no doubt the Sheriff would take at least some of the money for 'safe-keeping'. Perhaps it was in fact all a ruse, and the money was actually part of the Black Knights' scheme.

"When is the money scheduled to arrive?" Robin asked.

Cam's grin widened. "Tomorrow. Great North Road."

Robin smirked. "Everyone, get some rest. There's money to be taken in the morning."

XX

Allan peered out around the tree he was hidden behind, on a ridge to the left of the road. He tried to make out Cassie, hidden similarly in the trees on the opposite side of the road, but could not see her.

Trying to entertain himself he fiddled with the bow he held in his hands, testing the string to make sure it was firm. His bow was one of the few material possessions that actually meant something to him; it wasn't worth much but was perhaps the most precious thing he owned. His touch was fond as he glided his fingers along the smooth wood, rubbing at a fleck of dirt to clean it.

His head snapped up as a low whistle sounded through the quiet forest. The signal. He nocked an arrow and held the bow ready. Straining his ears he made out the soft creaking of wheels as the wagon slowly trundled towards his hiding point. He could hear the clanking of the guards' armour as they walked alongside it.

A second whistle sounded. Still invisible from the road Allan let loose an arrow, quickly followed by another. His arrows struck the road a few feet in front of the horses that pulled the wagon, and were soon joined by Cassie's.

As the wagon rolled to a halt Allan leaped out from behind the tree, jumping down onto the road. Cassie was soon at his side. Up ahead Robin and Cam were stood higher in the trees, one on either side of the wagon, arrows pointing down towards it. The dozen guards quickly looked behind them, searching for an escape route, but Allan knew that John and Much would be stood to the rear of the wagon to block prevent any retreat.

"This is an ambush, fellas," Allan announced, grinning as he relished the familiar words that rolled from his tongue. He liked being one of the good guys again.

"We reckon you've got a bit too much money in that wagon," Cassie added.

"Looks a bit heavy," Allan agreed. "Bearing in mind there are hundreds of people going hungry."

"Put down your weapons," Cassie ordered.

The guards sniggered, drawing swords. "We outnumber you two to one," one of them shouted back. "Back off and no-one gets hurt."

Cassie looked at Allan. "I have to say I'm not that worried at the thought of getting hurt. What about you?"

Allan gave her a roguish grin. "My old ma always said I had a death wish."

They drew their swords simultaneously and leapt forwards. They were soon joined by the rest of the gang and the forest was filled with the crashes and clangs of colliding weapons.

Within minutes eight of the guards were flat on the floor, unconscious. The other four quickly surrendered and were tied to trees, ready to be freed when their comrades awoke.

The outlaws stripped the wagon of its contents, taking the chests of coins as well as a sack full of food. They had found a letter sealed with the insignia of the Black Knights so felt no remorse for taking it all. Laughing with the pure joy that came with taking from those who were corrupt and immoral they shouldered their loads of coins and disappeared into the trees.

XX

Later that night the mood in the camp was cheery as the outlaws celebrated their victory with a flagon of wine that a grateful Nettlestone villager had bade them take a few days previously. There was an air of satisfaction - their bellies were full, their cheeks flushed with liquor, and the lids had been removed from the chests of gold so the coins glinted in the firelight, reminding them of their victory that day.

After a mealtime of happy laughter a comfortable silence fell over the gang. For once, it was Much who disrupted the quiet rather than Allan.

"I've been thinking," he said, leaning back against his bunk, a contented smile playing across his lips. "We need a better signal."

"We do?" Robin asked, amused, one eyebrow raised.

"Mmm, we do. A whistle is all well and good to attract attention, but the problem is, it might attract the wrong attention. The bad guys. So I was thinking we need something more subtle. More…woodsy."

"Woodsy?" Robin couldn't hide his smirk whilst Allan was already laughing into his tankard. "What did you have in mind?"

Much grinned confidently and raised a clenched fist to his lips. He began to whistle and fluttered his fingers, until a noise halfway between an owl and John's snoring emitted from his fist.

Allan had given up all pretence at sombreness and was howling with laughter. Cassie was a bit more subtle in her laughter as she wasn't making a sound, but silent tears flowed down her cheeks. Cam looked slightly alarmed and John just seemed bemused.

Much looked up proudly. "See? It's a birdcall! Like in the forest. Now if we make it, the guards or whoever won't expect us. They'll just think it's a bird."

"Or they'll think someone's being tortured," Cam muttered.

"It's subtle!" Much protested, looking wounded.

"Not being funny, but how is making a noise like a strangled cat being subtle?" Allan asked.

Cassie let out a sudden snort, unable to keep her laughter hidden any longer. "I'm sorry Much! I'm sorry!" she gasped, wiping her cheeks. Much's face changed from wounded to sulky and he folded his arms across his chest, glaring at them all. "I think it's a good idea, it just needs…practice." Much seemed slightly mollified by Cassie's words.

"Moving on," Robin interjected smoothly. "I think a toast is in order." He lifted his cup and the others followed suit. "To today's success."

"To robbing from the rich," Much added.

"And giving to the poor!" John clinked his cup against Much's.

"To being outlaws!" Allan cheered, his cheeks flushed from being more than slightly merry.

"To Cam," Cassie added, smiling at the boy. "For the tip off."

"Ay, to Cam!" the others echoed.

"Which brings me to the next thing I wanted to discuss." Robin directed his gaze at Cam, who looked nervous under the intense scrutiny. "We all had a chat earlier, reckon you did a good job with the ambush, and…" Reaching into his pocket, Robin withdrew a familiar sliver of engraved wood dangling from a piece of leather.

Cam stared at him, open mouthed. "You're 'aving a laugh!" he burst out.

"Yeah I am," Robin replied, moving to shove the tag back into his pocket.

"Idiot!" Allan cuffed Cam around the head as Robin tossed him the tag and he hung it proudly around his neck.

Robin raised his cup one last time and the others joined the familiar refrain. "We are Robin Hood!"


Author's Note: YAAAY! Dissertation is finished and handed in. To celebrate I bought the series 1 Robin Hood DVD boxset and watched the first nine episodes in a row, then wrote this chapter, and am now working on a Will/Djaq fluffy one shot! Then to watch the rest of the episodes.

Anyway, thank you for the reviews! Three for one chapter! Excited!

candyfloss77 - Djaq might come back...you'll just have to see once this is finished and the sequel is started! Its all part of the mystery...

gatewatcher - Aww I know! I think Allan definitely has a soft side. But no, not stealthy!

teawithsilk - Oh I'm glad you like it! And I'm so glad you like Cassie, I'm always a bit wary of writing OCs. And yay for protective Allan!