Chapter Seven

A few days later, Allen was woken by a strange sound. He squinted into the darkness, waiting for some form of movement. But everything was still in his small cabin. If he listened hard enough, he could hear the small sound of Robin and Leon's slow breathing. For a moment, he remained still, wondering if he had dreamed the whole thing. But he could not stop the feeling.

As silently as he could, Allen eased himself off of his mat, hoping to not awaken the others. Slowly, he made his way out into the cold air. Camp consisted of five small cabins that were far too small to house the men that were crammed inside them. But they clearly had no time for building when the majority of their days and nights were spent in typical outlaw fashion. Allen noted no movement from any of them. But something was still amiss. Remaining perfectly still, he listened.

Finally, he heard something. A muffled sound. The sound of someone in pain, trying to stifle it. It was coming from the back of camp, concealed by a thick bunch of trees. Allen snuck forward, hiding behind the large trunks.

He saw Roger, knelt beside the small lake. His face was contorted in pain. A small piece of tree bark was clenched between his teeth in an attempt to remain silent. His shirt had been discarded, allowing Allen to see the deep burns that still scarred along his skin.

It took Allen a moment to realise exactly what was going on. Remembering recent events, Allen quickly searched for the tattoo. The problem was that Roger was covering it with a small staff. The staff seemed to be glowing. With horror, Allen realised that it was a staff from the embers of their campfire. Allen stifled his cry of anger as he finally understood. His cries were stifled by Roger as he groaned whilst burning away at his own skin.

The angle was unfortunate. Roger struggled to reach his own back. Hence it took a few tries as he continuously struggled, burning whatever he could reach. The smell of burning flesh filled the clearing. Allen felt pain himself before realising he had been pressing his hands into fists so hard that he had drawn blood. That was it! He now had no proof. Allen kicked himself for not going to Robin sooner.

No one would believe him. For he was the only who knew the truth. There was so much more to Roger Darnell than any of them could have ever guessed. He was dangerous.

"I will stop you," Allen whispered.

...

A week had passed, and still Robert failed to answer to the name Lord Allen. An entire week of impersonating his best friend had been far more difficult than anticipated. In front of others, both Robert and Marian were the prime example of the well-behaved young people that they ought to be. The façade was easy to maintain and Robert found himself rather enjoying the spectacle. Steffon was the opposite, he panicked and fretted constantly. Lord Carew, the current Sheriff of Nottingham was the picture of optimistic hope. Marian had been placed in his care a year previous. Initially, he thought it would be perfectly easy to find her a suitor. She was a beautiful woman with an impressive dowry. A niece to the King himself. But as Robert quickly gathered, her attitude made people desire to choke her. Or maybe that was just him.

"Lord Allen!"

Robert once again forgot to respond to his new name and Lord Carew was forced to yell at him a few times from across the courtyard. When Robert finally turned, he saw two horses and one very begrudged Marian.

"I thought a morning ride would help you two become acquainted," Lord Carew said merrily, handing him reigns.

Robert happily took them. He had always enjoyed riding. Marian sneered when his back was turned.

"Now let me just find you an escort." The Lord peered around.

"Surely there is no need, My Lord," Marian said quickly. "We won't stray far."

Robert smiled and the Sheriff relented. "Behave!" he warned, waggling a finger at the two of them before turning back to the castle. Marian was not successful in hiding her snort.

"So where are we headed?" Robert asked.

She steered her horse into a trot. "Sherwood Forest."

Robert hurried his horse to keep up. "So we aren't going to part ways after the gate?"

"Carew has spies everywhere. And besides, I enjoy a good ride. And you may extremely irritating but astoundingly, you are preferable to an escort. So you may accompany me if you wish."

"I would be honoured," Robert said sarcastically.

They rode in silence momentarily, but Robert could not contain his smirk. "What?" she asked.

"Nothing. It's just, you remind so of my friend Lord Leon. Or at least, you remind me of whom he used to be. The two of you would be well suited."

"So I suppose that I can expect a marriage proposal from his house soon?"

They rode briskly, quickly approaching Nottingham gates. "And so what if you do? Why are you so opposed to marriage?"

She considered for a moment. "I hate the idea of being controlled."

"So what do you plan to do? Do you really expect to be a maid forever?" Well, I suppose you could. I think you would look rather nice in a nun's habit."

Something he found about Marian was that her gaze of hatred lost its strong impact after the first few hundred times it was given. "I have no need to explain my future to the likes of you."

They approached Sherwood. Robert had no knowledge that he was entering his future home. It was little more than a forest. A vastness of trees and greenery. But he did feel strangely at peace the moment he entered. He had always enjoyed nature. The sound of birds singing and the wind gently flowing relaxed him. They rode down the main trail in silence for a time. She had no wish to speak to him and Robert found himself lost in the ambience of the wood. But eventually boredom overtook her. "So I know why I have no wish to marry, but what is your excuse?"

"Do you really find yourself 'that' desirable? Is the idea of someone having little interest in you so strange?"

Her silence answered for her. He scoffed. "Well, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but not all men are simply looking for a pretty little trophy. You best learn that now, while you have time to change?" He smirked, pushing back a stray lock of hair from his forehead.

"Are you really implying that I need to change?"

"Well, think of it this way. Right now, as you say, you have no shortage of suitors. You are young, beautiful, and have a strong family background. But if all things go according to your plan, you shant marry. Not for a while anyway. And then your looks will begin to fade and you will be left with your considerably giant ego. New maidens will reach a marriageable age and men will flock to them. You will still receive the occasional suitor, but he will only be introduced in your political position. And these men will no be as dashing as me. Far from it! You will wed a man twice your age, who probably drinks all that he earns while you raise a breed of his horrible children. At night, you will like in misery, stopping your fits of wailing to ponder back to that bewitching handsome and charming Lord Allen, of whom you were blatantly rude and nasty to. And you will know that he went on to marry a beautiful and humble woman, both of who are blissfully happy."

"And you say that I am the one with a 'considerably giant' ego?"

"We all have our flaws. But at least you can own up to yours."

"Has anyone ever told you that are well and truly mad?"

Robert suddenly pulled upon his reigns, not answering.

"Seriously?" she said, "you take offence to that?" Meanwhile you claim that I am going to-"

He held up a hand, silencing her. She was about to furiously put him in his place but then she heard it too. Footsteps. Running footsteps.

"Go!" Robert said hurriedly, turning his horse around.

The sound of a taught bow stopped him. "Leaving so soon?"

Robert looked up to see a man sitting atop a tree branch. Another stepped out from behind the same tree. Marian was looking to her left, watching three appear from her direction as well.

"Evening gentlemen," Robert said, watching the drawn arrows. "Anything we can help you with?"

One of them men jerked his head back to throw back a lock of shaggy brown hair. He was very pale, making the dirt all over his body very visible. The smell hit Robert instantly. "Just wanted to stop and say hello. Hello!"

"Brilliant. Now that you've said it, we best be on our way."

"So soon? We've barely gotten to know each other. You nobility are so rude. It's very nice to meet you, my name is Thomas."

"Allen. Now I hate to dash but we really must be on our way."

"Now, now, that aint very becoming of you, now is it?"

Robert had never been one for games. "What exactly is it that you want?" he asked, darkly.

"Blunt man. I like it." Thomas was close now. Close enough for Robert to smell the strong alcohol on his breath. "Why don't you just hand over all yer valuables, and we can all go on our merry way."

"And if we don't?" Robert asked. Marian glanced at him in panic.

Thomas snickered. "Well then we'll have to kill ya, now won't we?"

"Hardly seems fair."

"Life aint fair! Get over it."

"Well it's not. Five men again two. But how about this? You and me. Hand to hand combat. You win, you take all that we have. I win, we go free."

Thomas scrounged up his nose, confused. "Why would I agree to that? I've already won."

"To prove you're not afraid."

These simple words alit a fire. "I aint afraid!"

One of the other outlaws groaned. "He's playing you idiot! Let's take the gold and go."

Robert dismounted, still calm. "Trouble is, we have none."

"He lies!" another outlaw hissed.

"Search me," Robert said, holding out his arms. "I assure you, I have nothing."

The man in the tree leapt down, but he did not look at Robert. "I'll search her," he muttered.

Robert dismounted quickly to stand in front of him. "Not going to happen." Then he once more looked to Thomas. "Deep down, you can tell that I am not lying. You will gain no spoils from us. So I dare you. Fight me. Leave with your dignity."

"We'll take the horses," another outlaw said.

Robert spoke only to Thomas. "You know that you wish to fight. So let the horses be the prize."

Thomas took one final swing from his flask. "It's been nice knowing you, Pretty Boy," he said, drawing his sword.

"Hang on!" Robert said definitely. "I don't have a sword."

"That's your problem," Thomas shrugged. "A sword was never part of our agreement."

"Allen!" Marian said, with the clear sound of metal. He looked to her in time to see the sword she offered toward him.

"Where were you hiding that?" he said in confusion. But Thomas attacked before she had a chance to reply.

Robert had not indulged in a decent fight for what seemed like an age. He had left his training six years ago when he was around fourteen years of age. Sadly, he barely saw Wilfred since. Allen was always busy in his new boring political position. Leon liked to train with him on the off time he was able to visit Barnsdale but Robert still found himself missing the art. Thomas was far from what he would have wanted in a partner. But he was better than he expected, despite the obvious alcohol factor. Thomas clearly favoured attacking, striking his sword back and forth, thinking to drive Robert back. Robert held off defending himself strongly, simply dodging about, block gently. He wanted to see what the other man would do. As he suspected, Thomas had not expected his opponent to possess much skill. If he had, he never would have agreed to fight. When he finally paused to realise the mistake he had made, Robert lunged forward. Thomas almost dropped his sword with the shock. Most swordsmen favour either attack or defensive because they lack talent in the other. This was true for Thomas as he struggled to defend each strong blow that Robert dealt him. He simply stumbled about, tripping on countless tree roots and pieces of fallen twigs and leaves.

Finally, Thomas found himself with his back pressed to a tree. Robert brought his sword forward causing Thomas to push his whole weight into blocking it. With one quick flick to the right, Robert knocked the other mans sword away to the forest floor. Triumphantly, he pressed his blade to Thomas' neck.

"Alright, alright!' Thomas said nervously. "Guess we best be on our way."

"Call off your men," Robert said.

"Thing is though, the tallest of the outlaws said, "they aren't 'is men at all. They're mine."

Robert twisted Thomas' arm, forcing him in front, sword still poised. "Well then, call off 'your' men or this man dies."

The outlaw snarled. "You think I care?' Kill 'im. Or better yet-" Taking a few steps forward, he pulled at Marian's arm, sending her tumbling down from her horse. His own sword was then in front of her neck. "Kill 'im and I kill 'er."

Robert's fists curled tightly with his fury. "Let. Her. Go."

The man laughed, his rotting teeth on show.

Another member of the outlaws looked on in fury. "Since when are we your men?" he said, addressing his 'leader.'

"Since I said."

"Well, I say I'm in charge."

"That's not how it works!"

"I still think I'm in charge!" Thomas said but no on paid him the slightest heed of attention.

The man holding Marian was clearly furious at the others defiance. "You can do as I say or I will make you pay!"

"Oh yeah?" The man strode forward, pushing Marian out of the way as he pushed his sword deep into the other's chest. He pulled it back, only to stab him again, even more ferociously.

Robert ran forward, pulling Marian back with him. She was trembling in shock, wiping blood that had spattered over to her face.

Looking to the horses, Robert knew that he stood no chance in regaining them. One of the outlaws held the reigns. And he looked rather excited at the sight of all the blood.

"I suggest you get out of here," Thomas muttered under his breath.

Robert clutched at Marian's hand, pulling her after him. He gave Thomas an appreciative glance, not knowing that he had once more, stumbled upon another of his future men. He heard shouts after them and pounding footsteps. But they ran fast and eventually there was silence.

They ran until Robert feared that he would collapse. And he prided himself on his stamina. So he assumed that Marian would be far worse off. He slowed, looking behind him at the empty trail and feeling safe to come to a complete stop.

Marian stood away from him, not able to tear her eyes away as she watched desperately for any sign of being followed.

"Are you alright?" Robert asked.

She nodded, not looking at him. "I just need a minute," she said, unable to hide the tremble in her voice.

He slowly approached her, putting his arms around her. Her fear was released as she sobbed into his shoulder. Gently, he wiped the blood from her face as she shuddered.

"Sorry," she said quietly, wiping her eyes. "I'm being ridiculous."

"No, you're not."

"I've just never seen anyone die before."

Feeling a heavy drop of rain, Robert looked up to the dark grey of the sky, cursing how far into the forest they had ventured. "We should move. Before we are trapped by the rain. How long is it to Nottingham?"

"Without horses?" Hours probably."

True enough, the rain began to pelt down. In mere moments, Robert felt his hair become plastered to his head and raindrops dripped constantly down his face. He shivered as the strong wind picked up. A storm as only just beginning.

"Locksley isn't too far from here," Marian said, teeth chattering. "We can take shelter there."

Robert quickly unfastened his cloak, placing it around her shoulders. "Lead the way."

Robert pounded his fist upon the first door they came upon. The heaviness of the rain made it difficult to see but eventually they had stumbled upon a mill, near to Locksley town. The door was opened by a kind looking old man who instantly ushered them inside, no questions asked. "You'll catch your death," he hurriedly said, gesturing to a roaring fireplace. Nothing had ever seemed more appealing as Robert shivered in place.

The man introduced himself as Lewis Burner, owner of the mill. His wife, Sarah was just as welcoming, if not more so, racing about to fetch them blankets and wine to warm them. She had an affectionate but orderly tone as she ordered her sons about, giving them tasks such as finding a spare change of clothes for Robert. Three of the sons raced off. They were all older than Robert and of similar strong build and height. The youngest son, Much, managed to walk into the wall.

Robert wanted nothing more than to warm himself by the fire but first he hung back to speak to his kind host. "I really can't thank you enough," he said again, overwhelmed by the kindness shown.

Lewis brushed it all away. "It's what any neighborly Christian man ought to do. And the very least I could do for Nobility. I'm sorry that our humble lodgings are far from what you yourself are used to."

"I am no Lord," Robert said, without thinking. He sighed as he realised that his new clothing spoke for him. "What I meant by that was, to you, I am little more than a stranger. And you treat us with nothing but kindness. So I cannot thank you enough."

Sarah returned with Marian, having leant her a simple peasant skirt and blouse. She was beautiful, no matter what she did, but it was nice to see her away from the excessive jewels and materials. Even with dripping wet hair and features, he lost his breath a little to look upon her.

His reaction did not go unnoticed by Lewis. "Nice girl you've got there," he said with a wink.

Robert stuttered a little. "She's not- I mean, she is nice, of course but she's not mine-"

Lewis just gave him an all-knowing smile.

One of the sons returned with a simple white shirt, frayed with age and wear. Robert thanked them profoundly all the same, heading to the fire as he shrugged away the dripping doublet. "Do you mind?" he said with a cheeky grin to Marian. "I see your roaming eyes. Kindly allow me to dress in peace."

She was not amused but he only laughed harder because he was not lying. He had seen her eyes upon him.

"So," he said as he sat down beside her, " does that happen with many suitors? Or am I just special?"

"What? Near death experiences? No, I must say, so far they are reserved just for you."

"Good. Keep it that way."

Both watch the flames for a spell. "Thank you," she said, after a pause. "For everything you did today."

Despite himself, he smirked. "I'll wager that really hurt you to say."

"It felt horrible."

"See! I'm not all bad am I. You have absolutely no cause to hate me."

She looked surprised. "I don't hate you."

"And here I was thinking that you were just a little unbecoming to strangers."

She pulled her blanket further around her, and in doing so inched a little closer. "I never hated you. I just have a strong dislike for suitors. And you didn't exactly help things by trying to help with my archery."

Robert looked quizzical but let her continue. After a sigh, she added, "my brother was the one who trained me. He left about a year ago to fight in the crusade. And I haven't heard even one word from him since. For all I know he could be dead."

"He won't be," Robert told her, with complete assurance.

When she looked to him, he saw her completely differently. The fear in her eyes made her appear so much younger. "How can you be sure?"

"Because the same blood that runs in your veins, runs in his. So the stubbornness must be there too. And I can only imagine the horror of someone like you going to war. Trust me, the Saracens would flee."

"I would be a brilliant soldier," she said, laughing.

"How are you with a blade?"

"How do you think? I am not exactly given time to practice."

"Well, now that I know I am not allowed to train you in archery, perhaps I could show you a few of my expert moves."

"Expert?" she scoffed but Robert could see the spark of hope in her eyes. It was then that he saw a large similarity between them. Both longed for more in life. But both were restricted, doomed to the menial lots as the days dragged by.

"Well, there you go then. We have a new long term plan for you. A bit of training and you can run off and join the war. No need for marriage."

"That's the other reason I need my brother home. When our parents died, he became my legal guardian. Carew is fair and I am lucky to have him. But soon he will tire of me. He already is. That's why he pushed for me to be wed. Rhys would never do that. He understands me. He never wanted to wed either and found a way to avoid it. Of course, that was to go off to war, which he did. And he left me alone. Bastard."

She looked to Robert as he tried to hide his pity. He could see that she was not someone who sought it. "So? That's my reason for avoiding marriage. Now tell me yours."

"I am not avoiding marriage! I just have no belief that marriage can be arranged by other people. It's all been so business-like. As if love could be controlled. And how can one believe that they are to find love simply within their social class? What if I was intended to marry a whore?"

She laughed and he found himself losing his breath at the sound. "Or what if you were intended to marry a servant?"

She gave him a confused glance, confused by his words. Robert desperately wanted to hear her answer but know not to press it. And besides, he already knew the answer. There was no chance.

"You are a strange man. Has anyone ever told you that?"

"And this is coming from you?"

He knew not how to respond. Suddenly his head cleared of everything. He found this to happen often when he looked at her and found her staring back. They sat very close together, arms almost touching. And when they turned slightly to face one another, he found himself unable to look away. From her lack of movement, he assumed the same could be said for her. And despite his best efforts, his eyes flicked to her lips. Time seemed to stretch into an eternity and both sat, neither wishing to break the moment.

But fate had a messenger. "Sorry!" Much said as he brushed the door open. His face went red when he assumed what he had walked in upon. They scrambled further apart, muttered excuses.

"I sent a messenger to Nottingham," Much said, averting his eyes to floor, his face reddening further. "A coach should be sent to collect you soon."

Robert found himself unable to concentrate for the rest of the afternoon. The Berner's were a lovely family and he enjoyed the time spent with them. But conversation was often repeated multiple times to him before he was able to respond logically. He tried his best to focus. But something internally was taking control. Curiously, most emotions were targeted toward Allen. Logic told him that he was being ridiculous. Allen was not even present. But that was the trouble. He knew then and there that he was furious at Allen. If Allen had not been so cowardly and run off, he would never have been put in this position. He would never have met Marian. But then Allen would have met her instead, hence, further jealousy. Even now, Allen could ask for Marian's hand and his wish would be granted. They could claim this whole switched identity was a rouse, easily brushed aside. And Allen would have her.

Robert watched Marian as she spoke with Sarah while helping to prepare the evening meal. Both laughed at something Marian said. She clearly had little experience with domestic chores. In the time it took Sarah to peel four potatoes, Marian had completed one. And that one was scrapped rather small after she accidentally peeled away too much time and time again.

He could deny it no more. He cared for her. Deeply. But even that was a lie. He knew that he was falling in love with her. And that could never happen.