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Chapter Ten: Decoy

He could never remember feeling quite this bad. Back in the day he would divulge in a drink or two, and every once in a while would wake later to find himself a bit on the sore side, and lacking the ability to remember what exactly happened. This was clearly a different case; for starters there was a lot more pain, and try as he might, everything rushed pass him in a blur. Minute pain he was used to…but this…he felt as he had been whopped alongside the head.

Cautiously he opened an eye, sunlight greeting him through the tops of the trees as he stared straight ahead. Light did not help his throbbing head at all, and he let out a groan as he rolled to his side, muttering a few incoherent words.

"Nice of you to join us, Allan."

He glanced up; meeting Will's gaze before letting out a laugh, laying his head back down. Allan couldn't remember anything from the last night save for entering the town of Nottingham, and the tavern…he could always remember the drinking he had done.

"Now that you're awake, you can help us move camp."

Allan let out a groan, shaking his head. There was no physical way he could move at the moment, and honestly he felt more than eager to remain right where he was, even if it wasn't too entirely comfortable.

"Now Allan."

"I'm not being funny, but I can't remember a thing," he managed to croak, draping an arm over his head, shading his eyes from light.

"Not surprising," Will continued, moving about him. "That is the last time we ever go to the tavern."

"Speak for yourself," he muttered dryly.

"You can't tell me you actually enjoyed that?" the man commented, disbelief lacing his voice. "Are you enjoying yourself at the moment?"

Allan laughed, shaking his head. No, he wasn't. "That's not the point."

"Then what is?"

Slowly Allan rolled to his stomach, crossing his arms on the ground in front of him, raising his head. "A man should be able to do what he wants, when he wants."

"Even if it means making a complete fool out of himself?" Will inquired, gathering the extra blankets in his arms.

"Yeah," Allan nodded, frowning for a moment. "No…that's not what I was saying."

Will shook his head, watching him. "What do you mean then? Enlighten us."

"We should be living decent lives," Allan pointed out, "I mean, after all the work we do an' stuff. We should be able to go out, enjoy ourselves, and not have to worry about bein arrested or anything like that."

"We're outlaws," Will reminded him. "We always have to worry about being arrested."

"You've got a point," Allan admitted, laying his head back down. That fact alone presented a slight problem, but he wasn't going to worry about it at the present moment in time. After a decent rest…he would be able to figure it out then.

"Are you just going to stay there all day?"

He let out another groan, cracking open an eye. Why couldn't the man just leave him alone? "I just might; what business is it of yours?"

"We are moving camp; unless you want to stay here, by yourself, I suggest that you get up."

"Movin' camp?" he opened both eyes now, sitting up. "Why are you doin' that for?"

"Because, Allan," Will told him with a sigh, "Gisborne's guards frequently patrol this area. Not to mention we are close to the north road, and if someone happens to spot us, they'll point us out to the Sheriff. We have to move if we don't want to be caught."

"Well, why don't you build another camp then? Or better yet take back the camp from Robin. Senseless to keep moving about."

"We left," Will reminded him, "therefore we do not keep the camp. If you would like a similar camp, I suggest you build it, because I am busy at the moment."

Allan huffed, closing his eyes as he lay back down. It was unbelievable; Will was a smart man, but he consistently battled his conscience over the smallest of things. He himself would have taken the camp if he had been the one to built it…of course Allan hadn't been, so therefore logic spoke clearly to him that it wasn't worth fighting for. He, of course, had learned to ignore his own sense of right and wrong unless it was particularly important. He was what some people would consider low, but even men who were low had standards to maintain.

"We're leaving."

"Lovely," Allan scoffed quietly, "Let me know when you get there."

He waited for the reply, for the comeback, even anticipated being hauled to his feet, but instead all he heard was silence. Warily he opened an eye, surveying his surroundings cautiously, perplexed to find himself completely abandoned. It was a surprise; he hadn't actually expected them to leave him behind. Sitting up he caught sight of the pair as they wove through the trees, Allan letting out a quiet curse as he held his throbbing head.

They would come back for him…they had to, right? He sat there long enough for the world to come into focus clearly, watching as Will and John disappeared from sight. Apparently they were not…

"All right!" he called out forcefully, staggering to his feet. "I'm coming!"

He muttered a few curses to himself, wrapping up in his cloak as he hurried through the woods to make up lost time. The two had slowed their pace after he had called out, allowing him to catch up, before returning to the normal pace. They had done this walk more than once in the previous season, before Will had constructed their new permanent camp. The only difference was that this time, there was silence in the small group.

Travel with everyone, there at least had been a short exchange between them all, not enough to draw unwanted attention, but certainly enough to keep things interesting. Now the air between them was filled with their quiet steps, the snapping of twigs, and the shuffling of earth beneath their feet. It was maddening, yet comforting at the same time because Allan doubted he had the diligence to keep up with a conversation at the moment. He was a talkative person by nature, always yearning for the need to say something, even if it was to hear himself to talk. The only major flaw he had was the fact that half of what came out of his mouth wasn't even true.

The man had reached a point in his life where he wasn't sure what was fact or fiction. He supposed if he sat down, and sorted through every story he had told he could pinpoint what was true or not, but he didn't have the time for that sort of thing. Vague memory remained with him, and as he encountered each new situation, he would pull the fabrication forward, and spin the tale a little differently. Close enough to the first story that the slight anomalies would go unnoticed by the simple minded folk.

But his head was still hurting, prompting him to rub in gingerly. It was the oddest feeling, the slight bump under his fingers, sensitive to the tender touch.

"Did I fall and hit my head or somethin' like that?" he finally asked, the question nagging at his mind. Maybe that was why he couldn't remember…

"Something like that," Will answered, snickering quietly.

"I said sorry," John returned.

"What?" Allan glanced at the larger man, "you knocked me out? Not being funny, but that hurt."

"You nearly blew our cover," Will cut in, stopping as he faced him. "We should have left you there."

Allan rubbed the back of his head, frowning as he moved on by. "A couple of lousy friends I have. A man tries to enjoy a mug of ale, and he gets clobbered for it!"

"You deserved to get clobbered," Will argued briefly, moving to catch up with him. "You said you would help us; instead you were only interested in helping yourself."

"Hey," he shot back, "I said I'd get you in, and I did, didn't I?"

"You said you knew where the food was too. John and I had to find that ourselves, load everything, and get back out, all the while we were babysitting you."

"Not my problem," Allan laughed. It was his opinion that Will was digging far too deep into this. "Don't want my help, don' ask for it."

"I'll keep that in mind," Will replied coldly, taking the lead once more.

Allan let out a sigh, shaking his head as he continued to follow. Robbing the rich, feeding the poor…it all seemed like too much work. And then you had to turn around, and do it again, because they were all hungry again by the time you were finished. It was pointless, and Allan knew with the skills he had, they could serve far better uses than petty thefts, and minor triumphs.

As much as he knew this, he also knew something else. Will was right; he was an outlaw, which meant he had nowhere to go. Sure, he would be able to get by for a short time before someone noticed him, and then he would be forced to move on to something new. But he was beginning to wonder if a life such as that was better than what this bleak existence had to offer.

"How far are we going?" Allan asked quietly.

They had moving for nearly an hour now, steering clear of any roads, and taking the smaller, rougher paths through the trees. At times with Robin, before they had their camp, the man would lead them through a series of twists and turns for several hours, before settling down. Allan could have sworn the crusader had led them in circles, and had often wondered if that had been the point of it all, to confuse them so deeply that not even they knew where they had wound up.

Whatever the case, Will was no Robin Hood, and Allan was growing hungry, and his body still yearned for the proper sleep it had missed out on. The mere prospect of wandering around for several more hours made him want to weep like a babe.

"Not much," Will reassured him, switching the bundle of blankets he carried to his other shoulder. "The top of the hill."

"So are you goin' to build a camp or what?"

"We don't have the materials," Will told him blandly. "Or the time, John and I are going to Nottingham, tomorrow."

"Nottingham? Why?"

"Silver," John replied quietly. "The Sheriff is getting silver."

Silver? Allan laughed, grinning as he followed them up the hill. "You know, I have some ideas…"

"No!"

Allan came to a stop as both of them had cried out, halting their movement.

"No," Will said again, quieter this time. "Thank you, your last plan didn't work our so well."

"Oh come on," Allan protested, "it won' happen again. I mean…any silver is going to be guarded, right? You're going to need more than just the two of you."

"I think we'll manage."

He let out a groan, hurrying up the rest of the hill. Food was one thing…silver, now that was a whole different story. He could a lot with a share of silver…if only he could convince them.

"I'm here, aren't I? I'm still a part of the gang," he shrugged, "Let me help. I made a mistake, alright?"

Will dropped the blankets on the ground, turning to him. "You really want to help?"

"Yeah," Allan nodded with a grin. He had the bait, all he needed to do was reel it in. "I'm still here, right?"

"Good," Will kicked the bundled towards him. "Then you can help set up camp."

Robin had spent the evening sleeping, and most of the night waiting. He sat alone by the kindling fire, tending it throughout the hours as he kept his mind occupied, divulging in what he and the others had learned. The consignment itself was set to go out in the morning, the decoy leaving Locksley at first light, and would travel through the forest.

Robin fathomed that the chest would make its way for a while before the real silver would appear. If Gisborne anticipated him taking it, than no doubt the man wanted the box intercepted far away from the village as possible. Acquiring the real silver, now that would be another difficulty.

Gisborne would not leave Locksley, and he would be a fool to leave the chest completely unguarded. Between he, Much and Djaq, the weight of the silver alone would present a challenge. They could not carry it, and fight at the same time, and with so few numbers, their defense was nearly nonexistent.

It was another worry in his mind. The smallest of sounds, the slightest movement caught his eyes as night slowly passed by. Each time Robin turned, hoping to see the others, to find Will, John and Allan returning. It had been several days now, and yet he had failed to see even the slightest of signs. It was worrisome, but at the same time, Sherwood was a large forest, and he had taught his men to be invisible. There was no way they would be disordered now simply because they had left. Still, he missed their company, and had felt certain they would have returned by now.

As night slowly began to pass on, Robin doused the flames, waking his companions. He wanted to be in Locksley to see the trap set in place, and prepare for the coming silver. There was still no sound plan in his mind, and he was desperate to see what his opportunities were. They had to intercept the silver…especially after failing to garner the donation chest.

The three had traveled silently through the woods, slowing as the approached their destination, arriving shortly before the first golden rays pierced the sky. They settled down on a small hill that gave them the overlook, just beyond the Locksley household. Robin kept a careful eye on the village, Much fighting off a yawn next to him.

"I don't understand why we are here so early Master," he commented tiredly.

"Patience my friend," Robin replied softly, giving his companion a warm smile. "It will pay off in the end."

"If we can get it," Djaq reminded him. "There are only three of us Robin, and not even you can take on everyone."

"Oh come on," he laughed, "I'm better than them."

"Better, maybe," Much agreed, "but not necessarily smarter."

"Not?" Robin questioned, watching him, "Why would you say that?"

"Robin, the chest," Djaq interrupted, bringing the man's attention back to what was important.

Robin turned, glancing to where she was pointing, smiling as the chest was carried from the house, the load being hoisted between two men. Gisborne was talking to the pair, indicating with a hand for more guards. A total of three. Robin bit his lip, searching the village for more.

"Three guards," Much laughed, watching as the chest moved out, "it is like they want us to take it."

"They do," Robin said quietly, pointing through the trees. "There are more guards about the village. I'm sure there will be more as the chest travels along its journey. Not just a decoy, but a trap as well. Clever."

"Well, it is a good thing we know it is a trap. Gisborne will be surprised, that's for sure, when none of us go after it. He's going to wonder who told you as well. He had enough of the villagers talking about it, I'm sure all of England knows by now."

Robin frowned, listening to his words. Something didn't feel right, and the man didn't know what. He wasn't sure if it was something Much had said, or if the logic had finally reached his mind, but there was a sudden, sickly feeling in the bottom of his stomach. And it was those feelings, he knew, that shouldn't be ignored.

"Stay here," Robin said suddenly, pulling back. "Watch for the silver, see where it goes, but do not intervene. I will meet you back at camp at sundown."

"Where are you going?" Much asked suddenly, confusion and worry written across his face as he pulled back. "What about the mission?"

"We must figure it out later, right now there is something I must do," Robin told him, turning to Djaq to see if he had her compliance. She nodded, already a step ahead of his friend.

Robin returned her nod, tossing Much his sword, but keeping his bow and quiver in case he should need them before parting. He drew his hood up, before he took off running, keeping to the trees and staying light on his feet, following the direction the decoy had taken. He could only hope his instincts were wrong, and he knew if they were not, that he would have to rely on luck, and luck alone.

He had been tracking the chest nearly the entire day, concealing himself in shadows, watching it from afar. It was slow going, requiring a lot of patience, and Will wondered, curious now, to whether Robin ever became impatient while waiting for so long. Robin did most to all of the scouting in cases such as this; he did the planning, and would call on the rest of them when the timing was right.

Sleep hadn't come easy; anxious about missing the chance to stake claim on the silver, Will had been up early with John and Allan, his stomach too tight to even try and eat. Now he wished that he had, his insides twisting and turning, protesting at the lack of a meal. But it would have to wait, he knew. They were here now, they couldn't afford any distractions.

Quickly Will moved from the awning of the meat stand, slipping into the shadows of an old abandoned stall, watching as the peasants carried the chest further into town. The entire morning now his mind had been working, sorting out a plan, and yet it was as hollow and empty as his stomach. Planning wasn't as easy as Robin made it seem.

He huffed quietly, arms crossed, peering out from underneath his hood. Comparing himself to Robin wasn't fair, nor was it wise. The man had many years of practice under his belt, having fought in the wars. Will was certain that with time, all of this would become easier.

In the forest there had been too many guards to intercept it. Upon reaching the town they had filtered off, leaving the pair to carry the chest alone. Perhaps they were counting on the citizens of Nottingham to shelter it unknowingly. A good plan; any attempt to attack now would only endanger lives. Surely that was what they were counting on.

Will dropped his hands to his side, leaning against the wood, his eyes never leaving the chest as his fingers wrapped around the hilt of his axe. It was slow enough, not to draw attention, but quick enough to enable a firm grip. With a sudden move he pulled it free, swinging it round to dispatch the newcomer quickly. But the blow never landed, a hand wrapping about his own, halting his movement.

The other man watched him amusedly, raising an eyebrow. "You're going to kill someone doing that, you know."

"Robin," Will growled, pulling free from his grasp. "You of all people should know not to sneak up on someone."

"True," the archer grinned, moving around him, his eyes searching their surroundings. "Call it a habit."

"What are you doing here?" Will asked, thrusting the axe back into his belt. He was irritated, but mostly embarrassed at his reaction. If the man had not been so prepared, there was no telling what could have happened.

"I could ask the same for you," Robin replied, gripping the post as he continued to survey the area. Finally satisfied with what he saw he pulled back, facing him. "Shouldn't you be helping the poor or something?"

"We already have," Will informed him, "Locksley is eating, no thanks to you."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You stole their food," Will cried, watching him. "Gisborne took what little food the villagers had left. They had nothing."

"They do now," Robin shrugged, "And how do you know that it was I who took the food?"

"Who else would have?"

"Good point," the man nodded towards him, his expression softening. "Does Gisborne know?"

For half a moment Will thought about answering in an affirmative, wanting to blame him for all the troubles caused. It was Robin's fault their food store was robbed in the first place, resorting to more thieving, and the punishment of innocents. Yet he knew he could not, and with a sigh he shook his head, muttering a quiet negative.

"So," Robin let out a sigh. "You had some extra time and decided what…to do a little shopping?"

"Don't play coy with me Robin; you know why I'm here."

The man laughed, folding his arms with a smile. "The silver."

Will nodded, moving around him to track the chest once more. "My men and I have been tracking it all morning; just waiting now for an opportune moment."

"Your men?" Robin scoffed, laughing.

"Yes," Will answered, turning back to face him. "My men. Is there a problem?"

For the briefest moment Will was sure Robin had rolled his eyes, but it was so short he couldn't tell if it was real or imagined.

"Of course not," Robin answered instead, tilting his head to one side. "You have a plan?"

"I'm working on it."

The man nodded, slight amusement crossing his face. "You won't get it."

The negative comment hurt more than he wanted to admit, but Will brushed it off, turning his gaze back out into the market. "I'm sure we will manage."

"If you say so," Robin replied mildly.

"Why are you always like this?" Will pressed, turning back to him quickly. He took a breath, giving himself a moment to keep his voice low. The last threat they needed was attracting the attention of a passing guard. Still it was hard to control his anger. "You always put yourself above others, you think you are the only one that can do something right. But so can we, the rest of us; we are good as well!"

"Yes," Robin answered sternly, his expression changing as he drew in closer. "You are good; but it doesn't matter how good you are, you won't get the silver."

"Give me one good reason," Will challenged him, anger lacing his voice.

"Because the real silver is back in Locksley."

For a moment he almost didn't catch what the other man had said. "What?"

Robin nodded out to the crowds where the chest was being carried. "It is a decoy, a trap."

Will glanced fleetingly out to the market, shaking his head. "I don't believe you. You learn this from your friend? Gisborne's puppet?"

"No," Robin shook his head.

"From who then?" Will challenged, but Robin was already shaking his head.

"Doesn't matter."

"You would take the word of a betrayer over your own eyes? The chest is right there, Robin."

"How many times have you seen two men hoist a chest full of silver so easily?"

Will blinked, his mouth open but failing to produce any words. Quickly he turned, watching as the men wove around the milling crowds, heading towards the castle. They were moving slowly….but carrying the box effortlessly.

"Look up to the castle walls," Robin told him, "What do you see?"

Without thought he did as was told, cursing himself mentally shortly after. Why did he take orders so easily? With a silent sigh he answered, his voice taunt. "Guards, so what? There are always guards up there."

"There are two kinds of guards," Robin continued, moving up next to him. "Ones that are stationed, and ones that are on patrol. They," the man pointed to the corners, where the wall drew into a point, offering a structure to protect from inclement weather, "are stationed. Their job is to watch the outside of the castle, and keep the town protected from external threats. Where are they looking?"

"The market," Will answered quietly, following him now.

"You see the others?" Robin asked, pointing now towards the middle. "They are patrol guards. They have rounds to make within a certain time, and yet they are hardly moving. There are two more, one by the meat stand, one further up by the gate. Both patrol guards, and yet they are moving in only one direction."

"With the chest," Will answered quietly, closing his eyes.

"Always check your surroundings," Robin told him. "Not only for your own sake, but for the safety of the men you are leading. Every decision you make affects them, never forget that."

"Why are you helping me?"

The question was an honest one. Just days ago Robin had forced him from the group with unfair terms, and now here he was, acting as though they were old friends who had fought on the battlefield together.

"Will," Robin laughed, shaking his head. "We had words, but that does not mean I wish you harmed."

He nodded after a moment, letting out a sigh. "If you knew this was a decoy, why are you not in Locksley?"

"Because I knew you would be here."

"How?"

Robin smiled, watching him. "Because I know my men."

Will returned the smile, as weak as it was. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice soft, "but we are not your men anymore. We left, remember?"

"Come back to camp," Robin returned, his voice just as quiet. "We will put this behind us, and not speak of it again. Then together we can intercept the silver as it leaves Locksley."

It was a generous offer, Will knew. He also knew that it might not come again, and the words ran through his head. Only days into his new life and Allan was already grinding on his nerves with his endless sarcasm, and his greedy ways. John was a comfort, providing the only real sanity he could cling to, but already the moving of the camp had began to wear him down. Then there were other things he missed.

The smell of the camp, the soft beds, the warmth of the night from the close quarters. He missed the warm fresh meals Much prepared, he missed Djaq's gentle interactions, and worse of all he was beginning to miss Robin's leadership. The quiet words the man spoke that seemed to make sense after a short while, the daring, the plans…the friendship.

Yet Will knew that things would be the same. It would be fine at first, but he could already see it in his mind the way things would change. How he would disagree with Robin again and eventually come to an impasse in which he would finally explode. That was not a path he wished to travel down.

Slowly he shook his head. "I can't."

"Why?"

"Because I can't follow your leadership."

Robin was silent for a moment, but then nodded. "An honest answer. That I can take. If you do change your mind, you know where to find us. Now call your men off before it is too late."

Will nodded, hating the fact that the other man was right. He could not risk such a move, and now he was angry at the wasted morning, knowing his time spent added up to virtually nothing.

"Oh," Robin caught his attention one last time, turning to face Will before he left. "You may want to tell Allan to steer clear of the tavern, it is not becoming for him, especially during a mission."

"What?" Will furrowed his brow, but the man did not respond, disappearing almost as quickly as he had come, leaving him to muse over two things. The wondering of how Robin knew such things, and the knowledge that he was going to kill Allan if the man had actually been drinking once more after promising to put an end to it.

TBC