Thanks to kegel for the beta :)

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Chapter 10

Lord Walter was not someone Robin could recall in his mind. Yet of course, of what he could remember, he had spent five years in the crusades, and the others in the forest. And even if that was not so, Robin highly doubted he had dealt much with the man. Walter did not appear to be someone who was overly social, according to what Gisborne had told him of earlier.

So it was of little surprise for Robin when he finally came upon the room. All was dark save for the moonlight that shone through the open window, a chill in the air from the breeze that wafted through. The pale moonlight stretched across the room, illuminating the bed with the sleeping form.

With soft, measured steps, Robin drew near. The bedside table was the first place he checked, sliding open the door slowly, hands rummaging through the contents, hoping to accidentally brush the cold metal that would signal a key of some sorts. Yet there was none and he pulled back, a frown on his face as he searched the rest of the room quickly. If he was to hide something of value, where would he keep it?

He could hear the man grumble, muttering something in his sleep and rolling to one side. Robin took a quick step back, bow in hand and ready to fire as he brought it up defensively. A few tense moments passed, before the heavy snoring resumed. Robin merely shook his head, and went back to searching the room.

He knelt now, hand brushing against the floor, checking for a loose board. There were several in Locksley, he knew, though he hadn't bothered to hide much of anything there. Other lords, he knew, would hide money inside, perhaps something passed down throughout their family line that was of value. There was nothing quite of that value in his possession; he was not one to horde trinkets. But perhaps Walter did not think as he did.

Robin slid his knife between the boards, giving them an experimental tug, smiling when one popped loose. He grasped it with one hand, sliding it out of place and gently laying it down so it would make no noise. Reaching in he felt with slow, gentle movements. There was indeed a purse down there, several from what he could feel. Coins, it seemed, but no key...

Again the man above him moved in his sleep, Robin holding still until all was quiet once more. He placed the board back, testing the others nearby, but found nothing else. He stayed where he was, frowning as he thought things through. If the key was not here, then were else could it be? He did not have all the time in the world, but neither could he rush things. If he failed...he did not want to think of what would happen.

It would mean coming back another night. Maybe several nights; that would be the smartest of decisions. The safest, no doubt, but also the most disappointing. He would have to find Djaq, would have to trust that she understood what he was going to do. He had to hold to the hope that she would trust he would return. Would have to trust she would not say anything...

Walter was moving again, more incoherent sounds as he rolled over. He was beginning to wake up. Robin strung his bow once more, moving to his full height. Inside his chest his heart hammered, and he prayed his disguise would work. What would he say if it did not?

"Joe, that you?" Walter wondered, sitting up. The man was still waking up, rubbing tired eyes as he came to. Then he looked up, met Robin's gaze, and froze.

"What the-?"

"Do not make a sound," Robin threatened, pulling the arrow back a little further. He had dropped his voice, doing his best to disguise it. There was no telling if he had met the man before, and he could not risk being known. If the sheriff ever found out...

It was an odd thought; he had long ago grown accustomed to the sheriff knowing of what he had done. Had made it a point to drop his name so that others would speak of it. But that was in a different time, another world. It was not so here. Here he risked so much more than just his life. He risked the people of his village, the people that worked in his manor, and Marian.

It was the one reason he had donned the fabric down below. It was nothing more than a black scarf, worn and old, no doubt belonging to one of the serfs that took care of the manor. Unfolded it was large enough to cover his face, and he had cut slits in order to see through the material. Tied behind his head, and hood drawn to cover his face, there was little left to identify him.

"Tell me where the key is," Robin continued, using the same voice as before. There was no hint of recognition on the man's face and so it gave him more courage.

"Over my dead body," the man growled, not even attempting to pretend he didn't know what Robin was speaking of.

"That could be arranged."

"All I have to do is call my guards," Walter pointed out. "You are in no position to bargain-"

"How long would it take them to get here?" Robin wondered. "A full minute, maybe two? Longer even?"

He hadn't seen any guards in the house. Doubted they were even there. Serfs maybe, but they were fast asleep and would not hear the call right away. That left the rest of the guards outside, and even if they heard the first time, it would still take them several minutes to make it all the way to the top floor. In that amount of time, Robin would be long gone.

That realization was now showing up on Walter's face. Robin decided to press his luck even further. "Now tell me, how long would it take for this arrow to reach your heart? Or maybe your throat? Have you ever see a man try and talk with an arrow in his throat? I have; it's not a pretty sight."

Whether he had seen it in war or simply in dreams he could no longer say. But he didn't need to believe he had; he just needed for Walter to believe it. And believing it he was. There was a look of sheer panic on the man's face.

"You see," Robin continued, taking a step closer, "I wouldn't even have to kill you. Just hurt you, nothing serious. I know exactly where to shoot a man to cause a great deal of pain with little harm. And if you don't tell me where the key is tonight, then I will come again. Not tomorrow, but maybe the next night. Or next week. Or even a month from now. Your guards did not see me come in tonight. They will not see me return on any other night either. So the choice is yours. You can tell me where the key is, and keep everything intact, or we can play a bit of a game. What do you think?"

"It's in the safe," Walter confessed quickly, motioning with his head behind one of the curtains. Robin smiled. Of course he really hadn't intended to do any of the things he had just said, but that wasn't the point. What he needed was the cooperation, and it was what he was getting at the current moment.

"Get it for me?" He waited half a moment before frowning. "That was not a request, it was an order."

"Yes, of course," Walter nodded, slowly hauling himself out of bed. He was a large man, revealing in his wealth. He hobbled quickly over to where he had indicated, pulling the curtain back. Hidden behind it was a metal plate, bolted with a lock. Walter was quick in producing another key, fumbling with it for a moment before it opened up. A moment later he held up another larger key, offering it to Robin with a shaking hand.

"If I find out that you are lying to me-"

"I'm not!" Walter protested.

"If I find out you are lying," Robin started again, "I promise you I will come back."

"It is no lie, this is the key."

"Give it to me."

Walter nodded, swallowing hesitantly before stepping forward. One step, then another, and he was almost touching Robin's bow. That was when he moved. Robin dropped the arrow, brought up the bow and caught the unsuspecting man squarely in the chin. The man seemed shocked, before stumbling and finally sinking to the ground, unconscious.

Robin checked for a pulse, glad to find it steady, and tucked the key in his pocket, before moving to tie the man up. He used the curtains from the wall, tying the man to the bed, and making sure he was gagged as well. Walter would not be out for long, and when he came to, he would not be a very happy man. But with any luck, the guards would not dare to disturb their lord until the morning. That gave Robin more than enough time.

Much was surprised to see him. Most likely because of his quick return. Robin had secured the key, had seen to Djaq one last time, before climbing back over the wall. He had a way to free the slaves, but now he needed a plan to ensure their safety. Much was alone with the horses, a realization that caused him to frown as he pulled free the scarf.

"Where is Allan?"

Much simply shrugged in response. "He said he to take care of 'business'. That was almost twenty minutes ago. He probably went back home. He's probably sleeping, in my bed, no doubt. When we get back I am kicking him out; I am not sleeping on the floor."

Robin let out a gruff sigh, shaking his head at Much. "He did not go back to Locksley," he cursed.

"Where else would he go?"

"He ran off, Much," Robin explained, frustrated now. He could hardly blame Much; Allan had taken his first chance at freedom, and gone off. He should have known better. Now all of this would be that much harder.

"Well, it is good that he did. He does not belong with the likes of us. He is a thief, after all. He does not follow the law like we do."

"You do realize what we are doing here is not exactly following the law, right?"

To this Much blinked, but said nothing. Robin shook his head again, turning back to look at the village before him. "I need a distraction."

He could not use Much; the man would be recognized, and it would not be long before Robin would be answering for all that took place. His original plan had been to use Allan. To disguise him and send him to the gates, acting as a man in trouble. The man always had been good at trickery, plus he was already known as a thief. No suspicion would have fallen on Robin then.

The gates would have been open, and Robin would have been ready. While Allan played his tricks, the cages would be opened, the slaves would run, and the confusion would begin. The guards could not keep them all at bay. Robin would slip out amongst them, disappear into the night with both Allan and Much. He would send Allan away for a few days, hope the man would return, and meet up with Djaq later. He already had told her where to go. He could only hope she would listen.

Now with Allan gone, he was facing a serious problem. How to get the gates open. He rubbed the back of his neck, thinking. Then he turned to Much.

"Whatever happens, do not let yourself be seen," Robin told him. "Hide here in the forest, wait ten minutes and cause a ruckus. Yell, scream, whatever you might have to do. Scare the horses even. Make as much noise as you can."

"Whatever for?"

"We need them to get the gates open."

"Why?"

"To get the slaves out," Robin let out a sigh. Surely it couldn't be that hard to understand.

"What? You really are letting them go?"

"Of course," he was frowning now. Why else did the man think they were here for?

"I thought-"

"Do not let yourself be seen," Robin warned him once more. "And if you are-" he paused, trying to think of something. Robin swallowed. "If you are caught, tell them you were attacked by thieves. Tell them you were coming back from Nottingham when you were attacked, and forced to come this way."

They were close enough to the road for it to be believable. And at night it was even more plausible. What wasn't was the reason why Much was out in the middle of the night alone, with three horses.

"Tell them the horses bolted, and you and I were tracking them down, and we became separated."

That was a reasonable explanation. He looked up, meeting Much's gaze, who nodded in confirmation. "But only if you are caught. Try to not let that happen."

Robin pulled the scarf back on, making sure it was on tight before pulling his hood up once more. "Ten minutes, remember."

It was the third time that night he had climbed the rope. His head was starting to swim again, his muscles aching as he lowered himself down on the other side. Robin gave himself only a handful of seconds before pushing on. He had to be ready when the commotion started, the chance at success was small, and he was placing a lot of trust on simple hope. Hope that Much would do as he asked, hope that the guards would respond as he planned, and hope the slaves would fight their way out.

There were many things that could go wrong. Much could do nothing; he was not the same man Robin remembered. Not as daring, and nowhere near as loyal as he was before. And even if he did, how well was the man at lying? He could keep a secret well enough, Robin guessed, musing over the secrets he was keeping for Marian. But when faced directly? How long before he was admitting to everything?

He pushed those thoughts aside. Now was not the place for doubts. The guards were still as unconcerned as they were before, not even noticing the cloaked figure that ran between the shadows. Djaq was waiting for him, relief etched on her face as he arrived.

"They must wait," he told her, even as he slid the key into the lock. "Tell them all to wait, if you go too soon, you will not get out."

"You want us to stay in here?" she asked incredulously. "To stay prisoners?"

"For a little longer," Robin agreed. "You must trust me. You will get out of here, but if you go before the gates are open, they will stay closed. You will be caught again, and I will not be able to help you a second time. Tell them."

She nodded after a time, moving away from him, staying low to the ground as she moved across the cage. There were silent whispers moving from one to the next, even as Robin moved to unlock the second, then the third. There were eight in all, and as he opened the last, the commotion started.

Robin found himself smiling, a bit of relief coming to him. The first part of the plan had worked. Now he could only hope the rest would follow. He shook his head as Djaq looked at him expectantly, hands on the door that kept her from stepping into her freedom. Robin pointed towards the gate that was still closed and she nodded in understanding.

The guards were leaving the slaves, moving towards the door. Robin held out a hand, halting her movements. Just a little longer now...

He smelt it first, and then the fire burst to life. It was past the cages, towards the back of the manor. A pile of hay was consumed by the flames, illuminating the area around them. He cursed, pulling back into the shadows as the guards turned their way. There were shouts for water, to put the flames out. In the flickering light Robin could see a second arrow come soaring over, striking the thatch of manor. It too caught fire, burning with a vengeance. Robin swore again moving towards Djaq.

"Go now!" he shouted towards her and the others, waving a hand. They did not need a second invitation. In fact several had already bolted, scared by the flames that were working their way. Djaq was leading the way, and he grabbed her by the arm. She fought against him, yelling as he pulled her back.

"Promise you will meet me?" He pleaded, ignoring the angry look she gave him. "Promise me!"

"I promise!" she agreed, and he let her go. She did not turn back, melting instead into the crowd that was racing towards their freedom. The gates were not open yet, but he had feeling they would be soon. He turned his attention back to the manor, seeing that most of it was engulfed. He moved towards it quickly.

Another arrow came down, nearly striking him in the process. He yelled, more in surprise than anything else, but kept pushing on. There were men carrying buckets, trying in vain to douse the flames. But Treeton had only a small well located at the other end. It would do no good.

"Get Lord Walter out!" he called out, ordering some of guards who were simply watching the chaos unfold. They started quickly, not even realizing it was a masked man that had given them orders. Robin knew he could not stay long. Whoever was attacking had stopped, for no more arrows came over, but the damage was already done. The manor was nearly engulfed, and already the fire was licking at the edges of the cages that held the slaves prisoner. There would be no going back now.

Robin tore a bit of cloth from his cape, wrapped it around the head of an arrow. It was easy to find an unattended flame, and he let the cloth burn until it was strong and fierce. Then stringing his bow he moved towards the center of the village; right where the mines were. He let the arrow fly, readying a second and doing the same, as well as a third. Then he left as quickly as he came.

The iron ore would burn, just as it had before, the mines would be inoperable once again. The gate was open, rather destroyed, and unguarded. Most of the men had either fled, or gone to help where they could. He paused there, turning back to watch the scene before him. He could see the guards stumble out, Lord Walter in between them. Could hear the man cursing. He was alive. Robin let out a breath, knowing that was his cue to leave.

He raced across the forest, relieved to find Much still waiting for him. The man was watching the village with wide eyes, mouth open. "What has happened?"

Robin turned, pulling free the scarf and dropping it to the ground. Even from here he could see the flames, the bright light filling the sky. That he could not answer. Who would have fired upon the village like that?

"What do you think? And that was all with three arrows! Am I good or what?"

"You!?" Much yelled even as Robin turned.

"Where the hell have you been?"

Allan held up his hands in surprise. "I thought you might need a distraction," he shook his head. "I overheard some guards talking about it once, always wanted to give it a try. Not a bad shot if I say so myself," he held up his hand that was short of fingers.

"You almost shot me," Robin frowned. He wasn't sure if he wanted to be angry, or simply relieved the man had come back. "Not to mention kill everyone in there."

"And I suppose you had a better plan?"

"Yes," Robin answered. "One that did not involve destroying the entire village." He was about to continue arguing, but more voices could be heard. No doubt it was the others evacuating. They could not be found here. Quickly Robin mounted, motioning the others to do the same. Within moments they were riding away, leaving the fire behind.

TBC