Sorry about the long wait, I ended up losing my computer to a virus for a time. Thanks for waiting patiently though, here is the next installment!
Thanks to Kegel for the beta :)
Chapter Twelve: A Secret Place
"What are you thinking?!"
He stood there, like some baffled child that had just been rebuked for doing something that was done naturally. If she hadn't been so angry with him she might have found it funny, even a little cute. Yet she was fuming, and for good reason.
"We do not make deals with Gisborne," John spat near her. Of course that caught the man's attention. Whatever she said held no merit; but John was big, John was strong…John didn't recognize the concept of friendly fire, and why it wasn't so greatly appreciated among friends. Will knew this as well, the man taking a step back in case John felt the need to exercise with his staff.
"What else was I supposed to do?" he questioned, throwing his hands in the air. "We can't let Marian die."
"Yeah, but we don't even know if she's gonna hang," Allan threw in his own opinion. The man was the only one not in the small circle, leaning against a tree as he flicked strays bugs off his flesh with his thumb and forefinger.
"Can we even take that chance? Marian's helped us out many of times. If she is to hang, then the least we can do is save her."
"We could have found another way!" Djaq spat out. "You did not have to agree to help him. Now he will know we are coming. There will be a trap."
"There might be. That's why I did not tell him what we planned on doing."
"Because there is no plan," Allan mused from where he stood. "We go in, we get the girl, we get back out. Gisborne knows we'll go to the dungeons; that's where they're keeping her, or so he says. Even Gisborne will figure that one out."
"We could have found another way," Djaq repeated , ignoring Allan's comments. "You could have said no. Make him think that we would not go."
"He would still know," Will argued, bitterness creeping into his voice. "What's done is done."
Unfortunately it was. If Marian was to hang, then they would have to save her. And it was not like they could go and fetch Gisborne now, and say that they were not coming in order to gain the element of surprise. That alone would probably land all of them in the dungeons, without even sorting together a plan in the first place. With a sigh she ran a hand through her short hair, resting it on the back of her neck as she tried to think.
She knew the reasons behind Robin's decisions; she understood them. And without the man, she felt incredibly vulnerable. It was fine for them to stay to the woods, to make the drops, or fill the stores. It was even fine to collect donations, forced or not, from passing travelers. But to go against Gisborne, against the sheriff, into the very heart of the castle itself, was a far different expedition. One that required real thought, not just the simple action of doing. And they were two men short.
That made matters all the worse. Robin was the daredevil, the one ready to take all and cover their escape. Much was the man of reason, the one who, for the most part, had a back door in case things went ill. These were two roles that now had to be filled, and part of her was afraid that they would fail even before it began.
"We need a way in."
She nodded. "The sewers?"
They ran most the length of the castle, and in some spots the wall was worn enough to provide a solid area for climbing. The smell alone would provide them with enough cover sound wise; after all, no guard was brave enough to hang his head down a privy in order to listen for someone sloshing along. Yet that only led to the main corridors; there still would be the question of getting down to the dungeons, which were supposedly heavily guarded.
"What about the passageway?" Allan wondered. "The one that Marian found, right? That leads straight to the dungeons…well, a part of the dungeons…"
"I would assume the sheriff and Gisborne were quick in closing that one up," Will muttered briefly.
It made sense. The sheriff would not allow such a passageway to remain open. Dungeons were meant for holding prisoners, not allowing them to escape. It could be easy, she assumed, for one of them to get arrested. It would ensure a way into the dungeons, but not necessarily a way out. Djaq pressed her lips together, trying to think. What would Robin do in this case?
"We can wait until Saturday morning" Will suggested. "If Marian is to hang, we can cause a distraction, free her in the confusion. If there is no hanging, Gisborne and the sheriff won't be able to trap us if we stay in the crowds."
"Last time we waited we were too late," Allan muttered bitterly. "My brother was already dead by then."
"We cannot wait," John agreed.
Djaq was agreeing as well. The sheriff would move fast if he suspected that Marian was consorting with them. Why the man was even waiting a day was a surprise, unless of course the man was expecting them to come. In which case he was right. She let out a sigh. Either way was not giving them a lot of promise.
"Nottingham," Will stated quietly. "We'll go from there. If Marian is to hang, the people will know. We'll figure out something from there."
Woodborough was a small village, small enough that it had not been listed on the map provided by Brom. It was what Robin had been hoping for. Earlier he had passed through a larger town, one that had been bustling at the seams in hopes of garnering some information. Everyone there had been in a hurry, rude and gruff and unwilling to linger in order to answer questions from some simple wanderer. Robin had not stayed long.
For the most part he kept to himself. At night he took to the forest and slept in short bursts, waking at every unfamiliar sound, and during the day he kept to the less traveled roads, stepping off into the brush at the first sight or sound of an approaching traveler. It had only been three days since leaving Nottingham, and already Robin knew that he could not continue at this pace.
His food supplies had already been diminished, and hunting had proven to be a poor sport the further south he went, leaving him with a petty diet of seeds and berries collected on the way. Water was plentiful and easy enough to find, satisfying his hunger to a degree, but it would not last forever. And he needed a decent night of rest. He did not have the money to buy his way into an inn, and nothing to barter with for food. His hope was that people in Woodborough would be more charitable to others than those of the larger towns. Robin had seen it happen more than once.
Larger towns, such as Nottingham, were a mixture of people on business, with no time or patience to waste, and every thought and effort was turned towards making a profit. In smaller villages, it was more about the work, and sharing amongst others in order to ensure that everyone was taken care of. While Robin knew that he could not expect this of every village, he still held some hope.
He spent the night in the forest, moving into the village after the morning fast had taken place in order to not spread any alarm. Villagers would receive him more openly if he entered in the midst of the day rather than sneaking through at night. There were some wary glances his way, but no one seemed too keen on approaching him. Robin passed by the first few houses, his eyes searching out the village and how it lay.
He would get the most response from a miller, or perhaps a carpenter; someone who was significant in the village and dealt with outsiders on occasion as part of their trade. Robin wasn't certain of what he was to do yet; he had no money, nothing of real value, and no real knowledge of how the villagers would respond to his presence if he remained.
He had not been this far from home since the war. Back then he had been among the company of some of the finest warriors England had to offer, and under protection of the king and so had little to fear when traveling through the country. Now he bore no mark of a crusader, or even a noble, his clothes were worn and dirtied, his stomach hungry. He would pass off as little more than a beggar, which he believed would be better than an outlaw. How far his outlawry stretched he wasn't certain.
Back home he knew well enough of when to still his tongue, and when to assure someone of who he was. Some people took comfort in his name, as though it was some sort of promise. Others would trap him and turn him over in a heartbeat in order to collect the prize on his head. Robin was no fool; if anyone had heard of the infamous Robin Hood it would have been through offered rewards from the sheriff of Nottingham, and not through the deeds Robin had done in the small villages about his home. Anyone here would more likely be foe than friend, if they found out who he truly was. That was why he had to choose his words carefully.
He saw the movement from the corner of his eye, and he was turning before he even had time to think. The thatching wasn't heavy, just awkward, proving cumbersome for just one person. Robin balanced the one end of bundles in his arm, helping the woman lift it from the cart. He could hear her sigh in relief as they set one end on the ground, the other coming to rest against the fence.
"Thank you."
"That seems like a lot of work for one person," Robin nodded to the cart. There were still easily a few dozen bundles left on the cart, all as large as or even larger than the one just pulled off. A couple of boys could easily handle it, but certainly not one lone woman.
"Usually my husband takes care of it," she explained, "but there was business today, and he needs the cart ready by morning. I don't have any other choice."
"Let me help you," Robin offered, already removing his pack.
"I have no way to pay you."
"I am not here to ask for money," he reassured her, jumping onto the cart. It would take some time to unload everything, and from there Robin was not sure of where he would go or what he would do. He still needed supplies, and longed for a solid night of rest, but he wasn't certain anymore if he would get it from here. His journey here now was beginning to seem as though it had been in vain, and would only put him further behind.
Yet he would not simply leave this woman to fend for herself when the task was obviously beyond her ability to perform. Part of him was wondering as to why no one else had offered help, and why she had so obviously expected that he would request money in return for lending a hand. Whatever the case, Robin hoped he would at least garner some information, hoping that someone had either seen, or even heard, of the two men traveling through with a third.
He was the first one to use to the water. He liked being first, it was always clean that way, instead of dirtied with dust and a layer of grime. It was cold, as expected, and despite the chill in the air it felt refreshing on his heated skin. Much hated the cloth that wrapped about his head, even though he knew it was to help protect him. It made much more sense in his mind to simply let all the slaves go. Then no one would have to wear the heavy, grimy bits of fabric that made you sweat unforgivably.
He splashed the water on his face, droplets clinging to his eyelashes and trailing off his nose and back into the bucket. His fingers moved to wipe off the excess, running down his cheeks and over his chin, wiping at his beard. It was still strange, to feel how long it had grown, and Much wanted nothing more than to be able to trim it back. Back at camp he could do that easily given a good sharp knife and a bit of glass to watch what he was doing. Here, there was nothing he could use, and so he had to learn to put up with it.
Eleri gave him some hope. Apparently every few months they were allowed a brief moment to shave and shorten their hair. Much was not sure of how long he had been here , having lost track of the days long ago. At first he had kept track, using pieces of old, charred wood to mark the ground just under his bed roll. After a while he had given up.
The marks had only smudged into one another, and even if they had remained in-tact, it wouldn't have mattered, for he could only count so high. But he hoped he would be allowed to shave soon. The way the fabric rubbed at his beard made his face itch, and sweat became easily stuck between the tiny hairs and he didn't like the feel of it at all.
"Are you just going to stand there?"
He met Eleri's gaze, apologizing meekly as he moved out of the way. Everyone was eager to wash, and he was eager to eat, despite the fact it was the same food as it was always. It was something he had grown used to. When he had been away at war with Robin, their diet had changed little. Food was hard to come by across seas, dependent on stores coming from England that could hold for such a length of travel, and any trading that was done in towns and markets had been for quantity, not quality. Of course, things had changed when they had initiated into the King's Private Guard. There had been what seemed an endless supply of meat, of fine wine and cheese, and even exotic bits of food Much had never seen before.
That, of course, had only come after a time of fighting. Then Robin had been wounded, and the pair sent home, having to once again ration their supplies so that they would not go hungry. Therefore Much was familiar with a lack of variety, and he ate without complaint. Eleri sat near him, as she always did, finishing her own meal in the same silence. Soon it would be time to sleep, and when they woke the day would follow as it always did. It made him miss life in the forest all the more. That was a luxury compared to here.
He found Eleri watching him, and Much couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. "What?"
"I want to show you something," she moved to her feet, indicating that he should follow. His brows furled in confusion. The others were already bedding down, some even already asleep, and the day's work had left him longing for the same. Aside from that, what could there be in here that was so fascinating that it could not wait for another time?
"Come on," she held out her hand to him, and after a moment Much accepted hesitantly. Eleri pulled him forward, stopping to pull free one of the torches that had been suspended from the wall, the flame lighting their way as they moved throughout the bodies on the ground. Few looked up, and those that did lay right back down, with hardly any interest. It was strange, to be walking among them all.
One of the things he had learned early on was that each group stayed to their own. There were no interactions among the lots, despite the fact that their masters were not down here to watch them. Garner as well as the other guards who took charge of the workers did not linger here, turning instead to their warm beds above ground. Much envied them. Though they stayed in the mines during the day, they were always allowed to go back up at night, and every fifth day they stayed above while another guard filled their spots. Much would give every morsel of food he had for even a few moments in the sun.
He shook the longing from his thoughts, nearly stumbling over the rocky floor. There was a word of caution from Eleri, and he watched as she moved up the side of the cave, half-climbing, half-clambering over a pile of jumbled boulders, and into a small hole that was barely big enough for her. Much wasn't sure if he would be able to fit through, but he was able to just fit.
The tunnel widened a little, and Much could hardly wonder as to why he had never noticed it before. Of course the cave was always dark, and it was a bit away from where they slept, but this path obviously led somewhere and it was a wonder why it was not blocked, or heavily used. Size could have something to do with it, he imagined. Even now he had to stoop, nearly crawling on hands and knees through some parts as Eleri led the way.
It was slow going, each twist and turn hardly seen even with the aid of the torch, and more than once he hit his head, letting out a muffled cry as he massaged his head with timid motions to try and clam the ache. Eleri was of no real help, only suggesting that he be more careful, which he was trying, but it was hard to remember he couldn't lift his head very high, and that was hard to not do because he wanted to see where he was going.
They came to the last turn, another warning from her to watch his head came as she slipped through. Much followed, successfully he might add, stretching as the walls around him widened onto a small ledge that jutted out before dropping off into the darkness. The crawl had left him sore, even more so than a full day's work, and part of him was a bit miffed at the fact that she just had him do all of that. For what? To go to yet another cave? They were all same, and his opinion had not changed for the better…
Eleri's smile was the first thing he saw, a soft, mirthful grin playing on her lips. He watched her in confusion, glancing around him only when she nodded. The fire from the torch was small, but the flickering flames cast shadows around them, light dancing on the walls, the floor, the ceiling.
Here the walls were not all black and grey. Instead they were light, almost a cream, or a yellow, and strange rocks hung from the ceiling above like icicles that hung from roofs and trees in the midst of winter. Some seemed to be upside down, coming from the ground and turned about as if they had been confused on what way they were supposed to go. The walls were smooth, like water frozen in motion, and even now Much could hear the intermittent drips of water far below.
"How?"
Eleri laughed, holding the torch out so that it lit more of the cave. "Amazing, isn't it?"
It was. Much had never seen anything like it, had never even known …There was a lot he had seen on his travels with Robin, beauty like he had not seen back in England, but even that did not compare . Tentatively he reached out, fingers pressing against the strange forms, surprised to learn it was hard, like rock. It was rock…but rocks were not like this, rocks were a strange, almost roundish shape, and these…
"This…you knew about this?"
Eleri nodded. "I wanted to show you earlier, but it's hard, I mean, when you first start. You spend your day working, then you sleep because you're tired."
That he could understand. If Eleri had suggested that he go anywhere before, Much probably would have declined. His eyes searched the cavern, of what little he could see, an idea forming in his head. If this was here, then surely there was more, and that meant…
"We could escape."
"How?"
"Well, there's water, the water has to come from somewhere, right?"
"Much, we can't see the bottom," Eleri told him softly. "Drop a pebble down there, it falls a long while before it hits ground. A fall would kill you, and there's no hope in climbing. Look at the sides. Smooth, like a newborn babe's bottom."
Much wasn't sure about that one, he had never touched a baby's bottom, or anyone else's for that matter, but he could understand to what she was trying to say. He too could see how the walls of the cave slopped like water falling, and from here he could see no visible holds at all.
"There has to be a way," he protested, glancing around. There was a bit of fresh air down here, a promising sign. The breeze, the water…there was an opening, and if they could reach it, then they could go free.
"There is no way," she told him gently. "If there was any chance of anyone leaving, we would not be allowed to come here at all. We are lucky they even allow us this small respite."
He knew, in his heart he knew she was telling the truth. But he didn't want to believe it. It was beautiful, yes, but tormenting as well. He realized then that they were no closer to escape than when they were in the mines, just one tunnel away from the ladder that would lead to their freedom. Much bit his lip, turning away.
"It was one of the reasons I was afraid to bring you," she told him quietly. "I hoped it would make you happy, if only for a little while. I'm sorry."
"No," he shook his head, trying to chase away the disappointment. He hadn't meant to hurt her feelings. It was ridiculous to think that there was a way to escape. If there was, then surely she would have already done so. "It is beautiful. It must be nice to come here, after being…there, all the time."
"It is at first. But after a time it loses its appeal, it stops being beautiful. You can only see what you can't have, and instead of feeling happy, you feel sad. Not very many here enjoy it."
"Robin would like it," Much commented briefly, his eyes still searching the cavern. Surely there was a way out somehow. He heard her sigh, his own breath catching in his throat as he heard her do so. She was like this whenever he brought up his master. Why, he did not know. He had asked her before, and she had refused to answer, aside from the blatantly obvious fact that she did not like any masters.
He tried, really honestly tried to not mention Robin at all when she was around. It was hard, a task more difficult than mining itself, a slip of the tongue that he could not stop, the words themselves pouring from his mouth before he even thought about what he was saying. Robin was a part of who he was, had been his master, his constant companion for more than ten years. How could he do anything, let alone talk about anything, without bringing someone like that up?
"We should go back."
Her voice was bitter, the cold tone she took when she was angry with him. Much seemed to be good at getting her angry that. It was all he could do to repress a longing sigh, not wanting to leave just yet. The cave was beautiful…as beautiful as a cave could be, he supposed. He had never before held such a high opinion of something so dreadful before, but he supposed that if he was able to choose any cave to live out the remainder of his days in, then it would be this one.
Eleri had already gone ahead, not waiting for him to follow, the light of the torch fading as she slipped in through the small entry way. Much took a final glance around, before turning to follow as well. It would get rather dark in here without the light, and he could remember how horrible it had been to crawl through that tunnel the first time. It would be much more difficult trying to do so without any light. Yet he couldn't help but pause, his eyes catching the smallest shaft of light from above.
When Eleri had been in here with the torch before he hadn't been able to see it. Now that darkness was enveloping him, it was easy to see the faint glow. There was an opening, somewhere far above. There was the smallest bit of hope in him, but it faded just as quickly as the last of the light disappeared. It was probably just his eyes, seeing things he wanted to be there. Even if it were real, if a way out existed way up there, there would be no way he could reach it. As Eleri had pointed out, the walls could not be climbed.
He shook his head, clearing the thoughts as he scurried over the opening, squeezing himself back through. Eleri was a good ways ahead, but he could see the dim flicker and followed without question. He would come back here, on his own if he had to.
But he really wouldn't mind if she came with him.
TBC
