"My, don't you look rather worse for wear, Gisborne?" the Sheriff smiled from behind his large desk in his quarters, sunlight streaming through the windows behind him.
"Two nights of playing vampire is enough for me, Sheriff," Guy said as he sat in the chair opposite the Sheriff. He rubbed his eyes with his fingers, trying to get rid of the exhausting pain. "The undead don't need sleep, but I do."
"Yes, well, good work on the boy. You always were one to capitalize on a situation," the Sheriff watched Guy stiffen in his chair. A twisted smile crossed his face, "Don't let your conscience play games with you, Guy. The boy was in your way… and well… I knew you fit this vampire roll well."
Guy's cold grey eyes looked back up at the Sheriff, staring back filled with both shame and cruelty.
The Sheriff continued to speak, despite Guy's moody looks. "You know, thanks to that little boy's…passing on, people from all over the shire have been patronizing our friend, Geoffrey Minor. Word of the vampire's last meal has spread like wildfire, really. Already, he's turned in large profit, and that's just our portion." The Sheriff gestured to the piles of coins on the table.
He leaned down into Guy's gaze, waiting till he focused on him. "Now, if this is our share, imagine just how much we could make without our friend, hmm?"
Guy smirked half-heartedly, "I imagine we'd make exactly double that, unless he's cheating us."
"Exactly," the Sheriff pointed his finger at Guy only inches from his face. "Cut out the middle man and increase profit." The Sheriff straightened up, "Sounds like a plan to me, Gisborne. And I literally mean… cut."
Guy stood up, "How am I supposed to remove him when he is guarded by our own men, Sheriff?"
The Sheriff simply smiled, "You're a clever one, Gisborne. Just order them away, they are our men after all. Call them back to the castle quickly, then take more men and set an ambush. It's really quite a simple procedure, Gisborne."
Guy craned his neck backwards again, "And where would you have me set the ambush, my lord?"
"Well, I would think, in my vast experience with this, that the road between Locksley and Nottingham would be perfect," the Sheriff stood on his toes to look at Guy right in the eye, "But don't let me tell you how to do… your job… Gisborne."
Guy smirked, "Of course not, Sheriff." He bowed and walked out the door of the Sheriff's chambers.
Geoffrey was pleased as he sat back on the seat of his cart. Stupid peasants from Locksley had nearly wiped him out of his relics. "It's alright," he thought to himself, "Holy water is easily faked, and crosses of any kind will sell extremely well." He turned to look at the treasures behind him: chests once filled with stinking garlic now overflowed in gold and silver coins of every size. "The Sheriff can't possibly need even half of this," he thought, grabbing a handful and putting it in his own purse.
At that moment, a small troupe of soldiers rode up to him, riding through his own protective guards. "Geoffrey Minor," one guard addressed him. "We are here to replace your guard for the journey back to Nottingham. These men are needed for a very important matter for the Sheriff in the town of Klun. They must depart immediately."
Geoffrey distrusted this action, "Now?" his nasally voice asked.
"Now, by order of the Sheriff, sir."
"I guess I have no choice in the matter then."
"None," said another guard, his voice deep and gravelly.
Geoffrey turned to look at the guard, but before he could say anything, the head guard began ordering all the men to depart for Klun. Geoffrey shook his head and whipped up his horses, knowing just how badly the Sheriff wanted his share of the profits. The Sheriff wouldn't endanger the money simply out of selfishness, Geoffrey thought.
The cart rattled its way down the road out of Locksley as the Sheriff's men turned to follow behind the cart.
Allan ran up to Robin as the gang lay in wait for the purveyor's cart and soldiers to rattle by.
"They're coming, Robin," Allan panted and drew his sword from his scabbard.
Robin drew two arrows from his quiver, placing them both on the bowstring. "Alright, you take care of the guards. I'll get the purveyor and we'll use him to ensure our escape. We need him alive; his confession will prove to all the people of Nottingham that the only undead monsters draining blood from anything are Gisborne and the Sheriff feeding on the poor people of this land." Robin's voice grew with his passion. This would put an end to the Sheriff's scheme.
The rattle of wheels and the sounds of horses began to echo through the trees around the road. Robin nodded to his men, and they scattered.
Hiding behind a large oak, Robin peered down the road, his eyes opening wide when he saw that only three guards accompanied the cart, a cart piled with chests that chinked of money.
Only three guards would make this heist easier, but Robin still wondered what the Sheriff was up to with this game.
He really didn't have time to reconsider, "Now or never," Robin thought. Springing out from behind the tree, Robin let his two arrows fly through the air, sticking in the ground right in front of the carthorse. The horse reared, its whinny piercing the air as Geoffrey leaned backwards on his seat, pulling back the reigns.
"Outlaws!" Geoffrey cried, fumbling to draw his sword still seated.
"Not just any outlaws," Much said as he came out from hiding. The gang also appearing from behind trees and under bushes. "We are Robin Hood's men!" Much smiled as he brandished his sword and shield.
Robin smiled, "And as such, we want you to give something like a speech to the people you have been cheating. We know you're working for the Sheriff, now we just want everyone else to know it too… from your own mouth." Robin smiled, raising his eyebrows, "We'll also be relieving you of your ill-gotten gains, now that the people won't be fearing the undead vampires any longer."
Geoffrey's face blanched in panic, he turned to first look over his treasures and then to his guards. "Well?" Geoffrey's nasally voice cracking in fear, "Do something!"
One guard rode forward, alongside the cart. "Well, Hood," the guard's voice deep and gravelly, "I set a trap for one man who's cheating the Sheriff, and I catch Nottingham's most wanted outlaw in my snare as well." The guard removed his helmet, and Guy's smirking face glared down at Robin as he drew his sword.
"Give up, Hood. Give up, or I kill the purveyor," Guy pointed his sword's point right towards Geoffrey's wide middle, burying it slightly into his clothes and then deeper into his waist.
Geoffrey whined, "No, please." Then he looked at Robin, "You there, I'll tell you everything… I'll… I'll give you everything I have with me if you just let me live." He folded his hands together, his voice shaking in fear, "Please don't let him k-kill m-me…"
Robin began taking a step closer and watched as Guy's smirk hardened in anger as he dug his sword deeper into Geoffrey, the purveyor's whine growing louder in pain. "I'm not joking, Hood. Nothing will stop me, and there is nowhere for you to run."
"On the contrary, Gisborne," Robin responded, fingering the arrow that lay slack against his bowstring. "You have only two other soldiers with you, and I," Robin paused as he drew his bow, "I have my whole gang with me."
Guy didn't back off, instead he began to chuckle and shake his head, "You never learn, do you Hood?" Guy nodded to something in the distance, and troops began to file through the forest, surrounding Robin's gang and the cart.
Robin circled around, his eyes wide as he assessed the new numbers. He smiled: ten to five was still an even fight. "You know, Gisborne, I've never been a quick learner. Not when it comes to knowing my place, apparently."
Guy laughed, throwing his head back. "Your place is hanging from the gallows along with your cohorts. How long will it take for you to realize you have nothing left, Hood. I run your lands, I control your money, I am the lord of your people…" a smirk crossed his face even wider, "… and I will take your former betrothed and marry her right before your eyes, Hood."
Robin felt his face grow dark with anger; Marian would never let that happen. She would never even come close to giving her life to this man. Give herself to this… monster. Just the thought of it…
"I doubt that Gisborne," Robin drew his bow again. With a soundless breath, the arrow flew through the air, knocking Guy's sword out of his hands with a metallic clang. Guy quickly turned to face Geoffrey and jumped from his horse onto the cart next to the man. "Get them!" he screamed at his soldiers.
Robin ran forward, he had to save the purveyor or else all would be lost. He could see his gang all easily defeating the soldiers, John and Will knocking out three guards then grabbing the large chests filled with money from the back of the cart. Robin smiled and drew out his scimitar, racing towards a pair of guards that stood between him and the cart. With a solid thud, Robin punched the first in the face and spun around to slash the second in the shoulder. He paused to look at the cart.
He saw Guy punch the purveyor once across the face, reaching around in his belt to pull out his dagger. Guy's face drew back in a cold sneer, placing the dagger against Geoffrey Minor's fat neck, "None of your relics or herbs can stop this vampire attack, purveyor." Robin ran faster, his mind blank with only the thought to save the man. He reached to his quiver, pulling out his last arrow and plying it to his bow.
But it was too late. Robin watched as red blood sprayed from the purveyor's neck, Guy's dagger-blade dripping red. Guy pushed the body from the cart, landing in a ditch beside the road. He turned to face Robin, his look of victory etched across his face. But then from behind him, Guy heard a deep, "ahem." He turned only to be punched from the cart by John, landing flat on his back between his horse and the cart.
John grabbed the reigns, "Robin. We go now."
"I couldn't agree more," Robin laughed as he jumped on the seat along side his friend. With the gang all aboard, John whipped the horse into a run, leaving behind the injured soldiers and a stunned Guy still crippled on the ground.
Guy tried to get to his feet, pausing on his knees and clutching his injured cheek. "Get after them!" he yelled to his men. The soldiers ran off on foot after the cart, leaving Guy alone on the road with his horse. He shook his head to clear out the pain, raising himself to his feet.
Guy stood beside his horse, hoisting himself into his saddle. He turned his horse to chase the cart. "At least I cut out the middleman, just as the Sheriff wanted," he thought. "And now I'll be able to sleep through the night once again."