Amaranthe Athenais; I respect your opinion and thank you for your feedback. I will confess I am no Robin Hood expert. Yes, it will be unlikely that Guy will join forces with Robin. I'll take into account what you have said. Thanks.
Lady Marian of Knighton; indeed :) The chapter is a little longer than I intended but I hope you enjoy.
Chapter 10; Trouble in Locksley
Guy woke early to the sound of raindrops tapping lightly on the thatched roof of a tavern. After shaking the guards off his tail, Guy opted to spend the night in a tavern, but hadn't had a very successful sleep. The smell of ale, the constant noise, the occasional brawls, the endless stream of drunk people all made sleep in the room above impossible. Yet it seemed better than spending the night at the mercy of the forest. Guy was still questioning that belief. He headed downstairs, wanting nothing to be free of this place. But before he did anything, Guy needed to quench his thirst. "Mug of ale." He commanded, shrinking into some godforsaken corner of the room. His drink came without delay, white froth spilling over the edge of his tankard. His eyes darted around the room; few people could be seen, either with their head on the table in a drunken sleep, or shady folk like himself with hoods pulled over their faces. The only reason he picked this tavern was because the name; 'Hangman's Noose.' Nobody would search for an outlaw here.
Guy took a sip of his ale and almost spat it out. "How could anyone drink this filth?" Guy muttered. Not a month ago he was feasting on the finest venison, while washing it down with wine imported from Burgundy. A life as an outlaw was a life without luxuries, something Guy hadn't really taken into account before his bold actions. A man stumbled up to him, almost falling onto the table Guy sat at. "Watch it." He snarled, pushing the drunk away from him with one hand, while the other gripped the remains of his sword. Guy hadn't realised it at first, but that sword had both taken and defended his life simultaneously. It was as almost as if it became a part of him. Guy shoved those thoughts to the back of his mind. It was stupid to get sentimental over a blade, but since he became an outlaw (or had gotten used to it), he valued things more than before; his horse, his food, even the warmth of a log roasting on a fire. It made it even harder for him to understand how Hood gave this all up willing.
"Sorry, mind if I sit here?" A boy, had to be older than seventeen yet younger than twenty-two stood waiting for his response. "Hmm? Oh, yeah." Guy sighed, pulling him out of his thoughts. There was plenty of other seats in the tavern, why on earth out of all places did he had to chose this one? "Tis' cold morning." The boy stated, pulling up a chair. "Indeed." Guy replied. He was in no mood to talk, or even sit in someone's company. His recent defeat haunted him, along with his broken sword (and pride). Guy took a sip of his ale, trying as best he could to blend in with the crowd, though he deeply regretted it as he forced it down his throat.
"My father used to take me here when I was young. He liked to drink." The boy looked as if he was about to burst into tears. 'If only I have my titles restored...' Guy pondered, hoping the boy would clear off. "He was a tax collector." Guy frowned. He had been the tax collector for many years in Nottingham, yet he hadn't come across someone like him before. Guy would've definitely remembered his face. "He... was... mudered." The boy's voice broke as tears streamed down his cheeks.
"Look boy, I came here to drink, not listen to someone's sob-story, now shut up or clear off." Guy snapped, losing his patience. The boy sat quiet for a minute, wiping his tears away as quickly as they appeared. He downed his own ale in one gulp, slammed the mug on the table and lent closer to Guy. "His name was Rufus. You should know him, Guy of Gisborne, because you murdered him." It seemed that everyone in the tavern stopped talking at the exact time the boy spoke those words. The eyes of the world were upon them, gazing at them with shock, but the boy had better plans. He tore his knife from his sheath, intended to stab Guy. The outlaw shot up, and blocked the attack. Guy kneed him in the stomach, then punched the boy in the face. "Murderer!" He screamed, attempting to stab Guy again. In one swift movement, Guy had the boy's head to the table, his knife-hand forced behind his back. "You-murdered-my-father." The boy sobbed as Guy slowly stretched his arm to breaking point. "I've killed a lot of people, get over it." Guy snarled. The boy had completely blown his cover.
"Gisborne!" Shouted that well-known voice from the other corner of the room. Robin Hood, stood there with his bow ready to kill. Guy rolled his eyes. "It was about time you showed up, Hood." Guy growled. "I could say the same for you, Gisborne. How do you find being an outlaw?" Robin snapped back. "Not too bad. It never seemed to do you much harm anyway." Guy retaliated. "Let the boy go. He has nothing to do with this." Robin commanded. "My name is Edmund." Edmund hissed, trying to get up. Guy slammed his head into the table, breaking his nose. "Let Edmund go." Robin repeated, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. Edmund's scream answered for Guy as he placed a wrist lock on him. Robin freed the arrow from his bow. Guy pulled Edmund up straight, using him as a human-shield. The arrow embedded itself in Edmund's chest. Guy tossed the corpse on the floor. "Taking a leaf out of my book, are you now, Hood?" Guy mocked, drawing his crossbow into action. Robin's gaze lingered on Edmund's body, then looked at Guy with new hatred. He pulled an arrow out of his quiver, but Guy's crossbow was faster. He fired it without second thought. Robin cried in pain. The shot had hit his arm, not his heart. Guy cursed to himself, but was drowned by another voice; "Outlaws! Outlaws in my tavern! Robin Hood and Guy of Gisborne! Guards! GUARDS!" Robin, who was still on the floor, managed to drag himself under a table. Almost immediately guards poured in through the door, the first sight that greeted them was Guy standing there like a lemon. 'What have I gotten myself into?' He thought, then opened fire on the guards in front of him. More came through. Guy was about to put up a fight, but realised he was heavily outnumbered. Instead, he grabbed a chair and threw it at the window, littering the floor with glass. Without looking back, Guy dashed into the open morning.
Guy ran, and ran, and ran, and ran some more. He didn't care where his feet where taking him, so long as it was away from that accursed tavern and its troubles. Even when all noise had been pushed out by the hammering of his pulse, Guy continued to push himself beyond limits, until he was forced to stop in case his heart gave out. The outlaw scanned his surroundings. Oak trees; thick and mighty, the sentinels of the woods, their limbs twisted, armoured in bark, impaled by a thousand twigs hiding behind a mask of leaves, their fingers brushing the ground or swaying in the breeze lazily. It looked oddly familiar, then Guy realised he was in the woods not far from Locksley. The same Locksley where his uncle had crowned himself King of the Peasants.
To his right lay a small hill, cloaked in trees. Guy knew that hill well. He came up here many a time as a boy. It was a place one could view the happenings at Locksley yet impossible to spot, impossible to a foreigner's eye. Guy began his climb and within minutes he was looking over the village he once ruled. White tents surrounded the small cluster of houses that made up Locksley, with wagons dotted here and there. Despite it being early, everyone was swarming like an anthill under attack by another bug. Most of Gareth's men were tending to the horses, building makeshift stables and forges, while the peasants did whatever peasants did. He wondered where his uncle was. Guy would've liked to see what happened when he met the sheriff, he would've liked to seen what happened two equally insane and stubborn forces collided. Speaking of the devil, Gareth emerge from the safety of Locksley manor, then speak to some men. Guy's curiosity bubbled to the surface. He was dying to get a closer look, yet he stayed where his was.
A twig snapped behind him. Guy went to turn around, then he felt a the steel tip of a sword at his back. "Don't move." A voice grunted behind him. Guy prayed it was one of the sheriff's men. He knew he could easily outwit them. "Turn around, slowly." In one swift movement, Guy spun round, crossbow in hand. The dark set of mail unmistakable belonged to the sheriff's men. Guy pulled the trigger before he could inflict any damage on him, sending the corpse crashing down the hill. Shouts followed, along with the cry of horses. Guy sprinted down the other side of the hill. 'Great.' He thought. Guy had no idea where he was going to run to. He could do a loop, then double-back on himself and find a place to hide, yet his energy was almost depleted. Then Guy's mind thought of the most craziest thing he'd ever thought off. He could run to Locksley. It was the least expected place anyone would look for him, but probably the most dangerous. But if he was caught there was no way he could escape or even remain alive for that matter. Unfortunately, he wasn't left with much choice as Locksley soon came into sight. Guy slowed his pace to a fast walk, as not to draw too much attention. It worked... well sort of. No one was chasing him down or trying to kill him. Yet.A squad of soldiers were heading his way. Guy ducked behind a wagon, then retreated till he was behind a house. No one had noticed him, but he was far from relived. Guy's heart battered itself against his ribcage. Everyone to him was a potential threat. The longer he stayed, the more paranoid he got. His uncle came into view, making Guy's heart jump a mile. He stood at the centre of the village, flocked by his men, the plated armour replaced by a set of shining mail.
"People of Locksley." He announced. The villages stopped what they were doing, and paid attention closely. "Now, I know the last regime was a brutal one. I intend to be different. So, I thought we'd get the boring business of collecting taxes out of the way this month, as a token of my... kindness. Yes, that's a nice way to put it." Guy didn't like where this was going. "Now then, step forth with your contribution, there'll be no need for violence and we can all get through this nicely." The soldiers came round the houses, the peasants handed in their money reluctantly, until they came around one house. "Sir, they won't pay." The soldier shouted. 'There is always one.' Guy thought. Gareth walked up to the peasants home, his men trailing behind. "And why is it, that you refuse to pay the taxes?" Gareth demanded. "We've just had a baby." The man replied, fear in his voice. "So, the king is in the Holy land, with his men, risking their lives for the sake of the country. And when they return, if they return, they can't have a decent meal because someone has got another mouth to feed." Gareth leaped forward and grabbed the man by his shirt. "I know all about. My son was amongst the dead."
"I- I'm sorry, my lord." The man begged, shaking. The mother stood in the doorway, the baby in her arms. Then Gareth's mood changed. "Ohhhhh, so this is the little leech. Well, isn't it adorable. What's it's name?"
"Robin, my lord." The women answered, letting Gareth take it off her. "Aww, little baby Robin. How sweet..." Gareth cooed, cradling it, then his voice turned dark. "We were all like you once, depending on others for survival. But you're such a cute little thing..." Gareth turned to face his men. "Louis!" He cried. The man called Louis came trotting up to him. "Burn it."
What?
'Have I heard correctly?' Was probably the most frequent question everyone asked themselves. Burn it? Was he serious? It was just a child? Not many children survive after birth, but to murder such innocence was inhumane even by Guy's standards. "Burn it! For Godsake, Louis, I want to see something burn!"
Guy's mind screamed at his body to move, yet his legs remained bound to the ground. He was completely paralyzed with shock. He couldn't leave it but he couldn't interfere either. Then Guy did something he never dreamed of doing. He prayed that Robin Hood would fly in and stop this. Wasn't this the type of thing he did? Wasn't this his job, his duty, to stop such horrors happening? Or was that privilege exclusive to just Guy and the sheriff only?
'He's going to be here any minute, he'll be here just in time.' Yet there was no sign Robin or his men. "Where is he?" Guy complained under his breath, finding the strength to move his jaw at least. Then he remembered. Robin of Locksley was lying in some tavern with a crossbow bolt sticking through his arm. Guy could've ripped out his own throat.
"We could b-burn something else, my lord. Couple of houses won't go down too bad." Louis mumbled. "Ugh, do I have to do everything myself?" Gareth moaned, snatching the child from Louis. "Build me a fire. Now!" The father of the child reached behind his back and pulled out a kitchen knife, hand shaking. "You can take my gold, kill my livestock, destroy everything I own, but you will not lay a finger on my child!" There was a gleam of delight in Gareth's eyes as he nodded to Louis. His right-hand man took out his sword and finished the father there and then. The mother of the child stood there, gobsmacked and hollow.
"Now, back to business. Let this serve as a brief reminder that I'm the boss here. Pay your taxes and we'll get along nicely." Gareth held up the child, his hand enclosed tightly around its head. The baby hiccuped quietly, its eyes jammed shut. "Refuse to pay, then may God have mercy on your soul." Guy shut his eyes tight, trying to imagine that he was in a different place. There was a dull thud mixed in with a crack. The battle of Guy's stomach began as he tried desperately stop his food from rising. He wasn't here. Guy's mind drifted to some far off place. He was riding through the forest, he was in Locksley having an evening meal, he was in the castle bossing people around. Anywhere but here.
"Hey, look who I found."
Guy went to grab his crossbow but two men came behind him and grabbed his arms. "Get off me!" Guy yelled, trying anything and everything just to break free of their grip. He almost had it, until another two men joined in and overpowered Guy. They dragged him out into the open, his feet barely touching the ground. Gareth's face lit up at the sight of Guy into a twisted smile like a child at Christmas. "Well, my dear nephew, you have truly made my day." Gareth exclaimed. Guy didn't bother to reply. "I expected my men to catch you later than this." Guy kept his silence. He couldn't be bothered to listen to the ramblings of a madman. "Don't you even what to know how you were caught so quickly?" Gareth asked. "Doubled the guard?" Guy sighed. "That and the fact I'd know you'd be hiding here. You see, I expected you to expect that this would be the least-expected place anyone would search for you, but that made it most-expected place at the same time, making it one big gamble. So here you are,-"
"Lord, give me strength to endure this pointless babbled." Guy prayed to himself. "How dare you-"
"Are you going to kill me or not? I'm in a bit of a hurry."
"No, I'm not going to kill you, not just yet." Guy was caught off guard at Gareth's statement, but then realized it could only mean one thing- torture.
"I'm hoping you will provide me with some good entertainment. This whole 'outlaw' thing, is really driving you insane. Running up and down the forest at day, and sleeping with both eyes open on the night. It's causing more pain than I could ever do." Gareth spoke the truth. Guy may have gotten used to covering his tracks, but he was never going to get used to sleeping under the stars, picking pockets every now and again, battling the elements, trying to catch food without being hunted down by the Sheriff, even simply living in the forest with only the trees for company. It was tiresome.
"But I'm not going to let you off easy this time. No, I will take something far more precious than your life." Guy was filled with dread. The only thing he valued more than his life was Marian, his crossbow and Locksley.
Locksley.
Guy's heart sunk to his boots. Not Locksley. He couldn't. He wouldn't. It was a bluff. It had to be. Yet the archers lined up and dipped their arrows in oil. "I want to see something burn." Gareth hummed to himself, rocking on his heels. "Archers! Take aim... and fire!" A dozen blazing arrows hit the thatched roof of the manor, orange flames devouring it in seconds. "Time to go to sleep, dear nephew." Gareth said, walking over to a paralyzed Guy. With a stout blow to the head with a gauntleted fist, Guy hit the deck immediately.
This chapter was longer than I expected but hope you enjoy. P.s, not sure if the chapter title is fitting. If anyone thinks of a better one, feel free to say.