Roger was one of the few Merry Men who loathed the times in which he was not needed to assist in missions. The concept of a break bored the life out of him. For during these times, he was forced to do what he hated most. Sit around and do absolutely nothing. The horror. If he had his way, he would spend every spare moment helping the poor. But Robin always made sure that his men were not over-worked. For tired outlaws made mistakes. And in our line of work, one cannot afford to make even the smallest of mistakes. Will was the same, and both knew this. So the smallest of silver linings came from being together on those dreaded times. Wordlessly, Will stood over Roger and handed over a bow, showing how they would be training on the morning. Roger nodded, taking the bow but groaned slightly. Archery had never been his strong point. He much preferred to be paired with a sword. He viewed the majority of archers as cowards who dared not face their enemies up close. To say such a thing in front of Robin was blasphemy, so he watched his words. At least Robin was skilled in every area. The archers of Nottingham were amongst those Roger hated the most. But anything to pass the time, he supposed. So he watched as Will carved a target in a distant tree.

"Do you two ever rest?" Luke asked incredulously as he watched. Obviously he had no intent of joining them, even though he desperately needed to. He was a smart man and had learnt quickly to be skilled with a sword. But it was surprise how few of the Merry Men possessed great skill with a bow and arrow. Luke had no need for pride though. He was very content to sit on the side and throw out criticisms as his way of helping. "You know that Roger cannot possibly hit that, don't you? Not unless he stood a few feet from it."

"He will learn," Will said, barely taking his eyes from his task. He was definitely one of the best amongst us at archery, despite only first holding a bow one year ago. But while others rested, he always had a weapon in his hand. His determination made him strong.

"Can I shoot?" Benny asked hopefully, bouncing about as he spoke. He was on the few amongst us who actually enjoyed training. The idea of glory appealed to him and he enjoyed every chance he received to show that he was just as good as the rest of us, despite his youth. In truth, when it came to archery, he actually was skilled. It was much safer to give him a bow than a sword. So Will grunted in response, informing him to stand up.

"At it again I see?" Amelia said, smiling as she walked past.

"Surprise, surprise," Luke said, sounding very bored.

Amelia just laughed as she tied her shawl around her head. Clutching at her basket, she told them, "I'm going to the market. Did Robin say he needed anything?"

"Yes actually," Luke said, "he said that he needed the largest boar you could find and you are to then serve it to myself alone."

"Of course he did," Amelia said, tapping him on the head with a flat palm. She always had a way of doing this that combined her surprising strength with the surprise of the action, which combined to cause quite the unfortunate agony for her victim. "That is what you get for lying," she said as he nearly fell back from the log he was seated on. "Enjoy your morning off," she concluded with a wave.

Benny was the only one to acknowledge her, waving enthusiastically. She ruffled his hair as she walked by. The other three just grunted.

"Could you be any more precious?" Luke asked, mocking Benny with a smirk as he waved his hand about in the same manner.

Benny just shrugged. "I like her," he said matter of factly. "And don't you ever wonder why she always gives me larger portions?"

Amelia's voice rang across camp, despite her distance. "Come now Lilly!"

Lilly scampered across camp, still wrapping her shawl around herself. We had all learnt early on that Amelia was to be obeyed instantly. "Good day," she said to them quickly. But while she addressed them all, her eyes never left Roger.

This did not go unnoticed by Luke, whose grin grew rapidly with the secret that he supposed he knew. Once the womenfolk were safely gone, he let out a long whistle. "Seems you have an admirer Roger."

Roger rolled his eyes as he testing the strength of an arrow. We were quite limited for weapons and knew that these arrows had been used many times before for training. Hence it near snapped under the small amount of pressure he applied. "Go and spread your poison somewhere else."

Placing a hand over his heart, Luke pretended to be offended. "I am merely stating what I see. And that is how there is far too much sappiness going on around here nowadays."

"Here we go," Benny muttered under his breath. He chose not to listen, instead taking aim. The arrow went flying straight and sure, landing an inch shy of the centre.

"Oh come on, you lot must have noticed," Luke said, waving his arms about in the hopes of distracting the others, as well as making his point. "We are supposed to be cut throat outlaws! Instead we are controlled by women."

Will rolled his eyes but was then focused on his target. He breathed deeply before aiming; blocking out the world so that nothing existed outside of him and the centre. His shot was quick but veered a little too far to the left.

Luke continued on as if he had them hanging upon his every word. "All I'm saying is that John and Amelia need to learn to control themselves. Honestly. If I hear one more sickly sweet nickname or see another sloppy eyed love stare or…"

"They were apart for years," Roger stated. He did not particularly care one way or the other about the relationships of others but he always took pride in disagreeing with the likes of Luke.

"So? And they were married long before that. Surely they must start hating one another by now. At least, they should be. It would do us all favour."

"No one cares," Will said with a sigh, knowing that this would do little to silence the other man.

At least Luke seemed to finally see that he held no captive audience. "Oh you lot are no fun," he said with a playful sneer. He wandered about camp, picking up stray items and tossing them about. Finally he camp across a note from Robin that none of them had bothered to yet look upon. "Have you seen this?" he asked the others, not sounding particularly excited.

"What?" Will asked.

Luke bit loudly into an apple and continued his wondering. His words were rather inaudible thanks to the apple but the others understood that Robin wished for two of them to travel to the village of Stamford later in the day to do drop offs.

"Stamford?" Roger asked in surprise. "Bit far out isn't it?"

Luke just shrugged, still finding his apple more interesting than the conversation. "We have horses." This was almost true. Last winter had been a hard one and far too many families were near death. With what we had given, many families made it through, including that of the owner of the Locksley stables. Since then, he considered himself forever indebted to us, despite the fact that Robin never asks for anything in return. And since Locksley is very near to us, it was rather useful to have a few horses at our disposal during desperate situations.

"Why Stamford?" Benny asked curiously.

"Well obviously we have don't go there often" Luke said. "So why not?" Every now and then, Robin did select a village that was a little beyond on normal reachings to ensure that as many as possible had as much spoils as we could spare. So such a request was normal. However the response of Roger and Benny was not normal.

"What?" Luke asking, rather rudely.

"Nothing," Roger said, casting aside his bow and heading off to prepare.

Benny stayed still, looking a little lost. "I actually lived there for a while. When I was on the streets." Then he seemed lost in the memory. Benny never spoke of his past. Of his days being completely alone. He was but a child when his parents passed. And so he roamed about, thieving what he could to survive. No wonder the art came so easily to him.

Even Luke had the decency to not press the subject. "So you and me, aye Roger?" he asked, putting an arm around him. Roger glared, hating being touched but Luke grinned on. "Just picture it. The two of us. Roaming about. Daring great feats! Pillaging what we wish! Saving hundreds of starving lives!"

"It is just some pathetic village," Roger said with more spite than he intended.

His words greatly amused Luke. "Some pathetic village?" he said as he placed a hand Roger's chest and searched with it.

"What are you doing?" Roger asked.

"Just checking," he said pleasantly.

"Checking what?"

"Checking to see if my suspicions are true and you are somehow living without a heart." And with that he listened intently.

"Leave off," Roger said, trying to push him off.

Luke remained staunch. "Why? So we can go save that pathetic little village of starving poor folk? What kind of Merry Man are you? Where is your compassion?" Then his face lit up as he pretended to strain himself with listening. "Wait… I think… Oh Lord, I think I hear something!" He then further angering Roger by pulling him into a passionate embrace and jokingly acting as if he had just discovered the happiest possible news. "I was wrong everyone! It's there! He has a heart! Let us all rejoice!"

Will finally cut in. "I will go with you Luke but for goodness sake silence yourself."

Luke all too happily leapt to Will and transferred his arm. "So you and me, aye buddy? Daring great feats! Pillaging…"

"Shut up," Will said bluntly.

Roger remained silent, busying himself toying with a few weapons on the rack. Will came to join him. "You had no need to do that," Roger said angrily, not so much as looking at him. "I would have been fine with going to Stamford."

Will surprised him by giving Roger a strong knowing glance. "I have been running form my past for years. So I know how to spot a man who is doing the same."

Roger was unnerved. "I'm not running from anything."

Will shook his head. "I care not what it is. But I do remember how difficult it was for me to go anywhere near Locksley after… well, you know."

"How did you do it?" Roger asked quietly.

Will shrugged, showing little emotion. "I just had to do it. Locksley is too important to our cause. My fear wasn't going to help anyone."

They were silent for a time before Will finally shook off the moment. "But I shall go to Stamford," he said finally.

Roger nodded in thanks.

Shortly after Will and Luke departed, Levon came running into camp. He had that dreaded look upon his face. The one that informed the remaining two Merry Men that their free morning was about to be cut short. "The Sheriff is transporting slaves through Sherwood," he panted, "come quickly."

"Brilliant," Roger said, clutching at his sword.

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.

"So do we have a plan?" Benny asked Robin. They had run far through Sherwood, nearer to Nottingham than they had expected. It seemed that Robin knew little of when they would actually pass by and therefore wanted to be prepared for anything.

Robin smiled confidently but looked sideward. "Well… One could call it a plan in progress."

"In other words, no," I said, hoping that my annoyance was apparent. "And not from lack of trying. How many plans did I offer up? But no. You want to wing it."

"How hard can it be?" Robin asked. "I doubt that the Sheriff would arm the carriage with many guards."

"And if he did?" I asked.

"Then you can say that you were right and we will never hear the end of it!" he said, clapping me on the back.

"Great," I grumbled but no one was listening. "What a prize."

Tuck was the only one who took any notice. "Robin is right Allen," he said in that soothing voice. He had been the one to warn of us the Sheriff's plans. We had been continuing with yet another successful forest raid. Five carriages and three carts were robbed quickly and easily. But the thing that took our notice was a single rider fast approaching us from the direction of Nottingham. Naturally it was Tuck with instructions of changing our plans. So instead of a well thought plan, we were to act like barbarians and simply attack the guards. Sometimes I do not know why I bother.

John arrived back, lugging a large cart behind him. Even he seemed to be struggling a tad, his face was a little too red with the effort. He dropped it with quite the crash. "Yes, no one help!" he said dramatically.

"Actually, I wanted a little to the left," Robin said with a daring twinkle in his eye.

John raised his quarterstaff menacingly. "You move it then," he said darkly. We had been very lucky that in our mornings raid, we had met one of the most cowardly men that we had faced so far. He had fled almost instantly. Left everything behind as he cut the horse free and fled. We did not mind. He left plenty of spoils and that rather useful cart.

"I don't see why I have to play the beggar!" Levon groaned as Thomas took great pleasure in rubbing dirt over his face and through his hair.

"It is the penance of being a new Merry Man," Thomas said with a chuckle. "We all had our demeaning times, now it is your turn."

"Is the mud really necessary?" Levon squeaked. Despite himself, he was still used to being in a life of splendor. Mud was still foreign. Knowing this, Thomas rubbed all the harder.

"We need the horses to stop," Matthew told him kindly, explaining once more. "It would be too difficult to attack them elsewise. So you just have to stand there, pretend that your cart broke and enforce the fact that you are blind. Blind beggars cannot simply move their own carts. So they have to stop to clear the path and that is when we attack."

"Yes, yes, I know," Levon grumbled. "But I still find the mud unnecessary."

'Yes but it is mighty fun," Thomas said with a grin.

The sound of footsteps drew our eyes to Much as he ran down the path toward us. 'They're almost here," he called, fulfilling his job of lookout.

"I will wait a little way down the track," Tuck said regretfully. We all knew that he could never be seen with us. Everyone else headed into the shelter of the trees.

"John wait!" Robin called, looking to the cart. "They have to believe that the cart broke and that the horse ran off."

John strode forward and a quick motion, kicked hard at one of the wheels. With a mighty crack, the wood tore apart and the wheel fell clean away. "Remind me to never get on your bad side," Matthew said, slightly wide eyed as he followed John and Much to the left side of the track. Thomas and Roger went to the other. Robin, Benny and I ran a little way down the track and climbed low branches, bows at the ready.

And finally the party came into sight. There were six guards in total, one riding out in front, two on either side and one bringing up the rear. It was looking far too easy. What caught our attention was the carriage they rode alongside. It was a cage. And a small one at that. Inside there were about thirty people, men and woman. And even the occasional child. From what Tuck had told us, we knew that they were the servants of a French Lord. This Lord had wanted to gain favour with Prince John and had given away a number of his slaves.

The men hidden beside the track looked to Robin for confirmation. But Robin held up a hand, not convinced that we needed to attack.

Levon's cart blocked a great majority of the track. Horses could easily pass it but there was no way of passing the carriage by without stopping. Levon played his part well. We had wrapped a stray piece of torn cloth around his eyes but even without this he would be convincing. He seemed to have a secret gift as he stumbled about the track, calling out for help. I had to work to maintain a straight face.

The leader in front of the carriage called for his men to halt and looked in anger at this delay. "Move out of the way immediately!" he said with menace and a strong French accent.

"I would, Milord," Levon said, even adding stutter to his voice. "Bu-but my cart! It must have lost a wheel or something! And my horse! She fled. Please, oh please help me."

The guard rolled his eyes and waved a hand at two of his men. They were far less strong than John and could not even lift from the ground between the two of them. "Fools," The head guard muttered and gestured for two more to help. They too dismounted and struggled desperately.

Robin finally felt assured and confidently strode out, bow nocked and ready. "I'm afraid that slavery is not permitted in Sherwood," Robin said.

The Guard narrowed his eyes. "On whose authority."

"Whose do you think?" Robin said. Benny and I joined him, arrows also at the ready. The Guards leapt back as they saw John, Matthew, Much, Roger and Thomas emerge from the trees, weapons pointed at them.

"You think to fight us," the Guard said, filled with fury.

"What gave us away?" Robin asked sarcastically.

"Well you have made quite the mistake!" the Guard said. Benny grew bored, knowing that he would just make a speech of our impending doom that he would never be able to bring about. He had heard it all before. So he lowered his bow and instead pulled a slingshot from his belt. Alongside it was a large stone. He weighed it up in his hand, judging the strength he would need. Then he quickly placed the stone in the slingshot, pulled back and sent the stone soaring. It flew quickly across the path to strike the Guard hard on his forehead. His eyes rolled back as he fell backward from his horse to the forest floor.

"Anyone else?" Robin asked charmingly. The other guards proved rather cowardly as they lay their weapons down. "Look at that Allen," Robin said to me, "Looks like my lack of plan worked rather well, don't you think?" I rolled my eyes as I pulled some rope from my satchel and threw it to Matthew so he could tie them up. Benny held them all with his bow whilst Matthew, Much and Roger tied.

The rest of us turned our attention to those in the cart. It was obvious that the majority of these folk could not speak in a word in English. So they knew not what we were doing. They saw only the weapons and thought us another enemy. And they let their fear show. The cage was cruelly small, but they still found a way to race about it, trying desperately to get themselves as far from the bars as possible. Some screamed. Others muttered in what appeared to be prayer. Robin tried his best to calm them but even standing near to them only worsened their panicked state. He looked to me in desperation, knowing that I must have had lessons in French. But I looked to the ground nervously. I had always hated the French language and had quickly given up.

Robin gave me a look of incredulous disbelief. So he turned to Levon who looked just as lost.

So he turned to Much. "I can't speak French!" Much said with a laugh.

"I never would have guessed," Robin said sarcastically. "But you can whistle."

Much placed those cursed two fingers and once more let out that horrid high-pitched sound. Even the slaves covered their ears and were silent.

And then we were surprised as a young girl pushed her way to the front of the carriage, shaking all the while. She must have been in her eleventh year, maybe twelfth. Her long red hair was plaited down her back. She looked to Robin bravely and said, "I speak English."

"Oh thank goodness," Thomas muttered behind me.

Robin looked to her kindly, making a large gesture of untying his sword from his belt and throwing it far away. "Thank you," he said warmly. "Now would you please tell the others that we mean them no harm?"

The girl nodded slowly and spoke to the others in French. They still looked uncertain.

"Tell them that I am Robin Hood. And I will protect them."

I shook my head at my friend's ignorance. He thought himself important enough to have tales of him reach France.

Apparently, he was right as a fair few looked up in surprise when he spoke his name. The girl spoke again. Gentle murmurings broke out as those who did not understand were quickly told. But they still seemed terrified.

Robin turned to me. "Did any of the guards have a key?" Matthew tossed over a small bronze key that seemed to match the lock. But before Robin opened it, he spoke again to the girl. "Can you please tell them that everyone is more than welcome to leave. But they would have to fend for themselves. And this is a dangerous place, especially for those who do not speak the language. But I swear I will protect you all. You just have to trust me. If you choose to stay, I will not let anything happen to you."

Finally they seemed to calm as she spoke and Robin unlocked the cage. No one moved.

"Nicely done," Tuck said as he joined us. "So do you have a plan?"

I scoffed at the idea. Robin ignored me. "You said that we could hide them at the Church. We can feed them there, get them warm. Then find out their trades. And find them somewhere safe."

They spoke quietly, knowing now that there was now someone who could understand them. "You're not going to hand us over to them are you?" the girl asked, tears in her eyes.

"What did the Sheriff want them for anyway?" John asked.

"They were sending us to Edwalton," the girl said quietly.

Levon looked shocked. "No one lives there for good reason," he explained. "That was the location of one of the worst cases petulance that England has ever seen. They quarantined it too late and it began to spread. But by the time they released the quarantine, everyone was dead."

"Why would the Sheriff send slaves there?" Benny asked, disgusted.

"Someone has to work in the mines," the girl said.

"Economic gain," Levon muttered darkly.

The girl seemed to be getting more terrified. Robin stood close and smiled warmly at her. "What is your name?"

"Polly," she said.

"Well Polly," he said. "I swear to you that you will never see that village."

Something about his words managed the smallest of smiles from her. "Thank you."

I busied myself with the issue of getting everyone in Nottingham. The cage would have to be abandoned of course. Far too conspicuous. I began to sort them into groups so that a few Merry Men would go with each group under a different guise.

Quite a few Merry Men came to help me, offering ideas and what not.

I was far too busy to notice Roger. He had separated himself from the group and was sitting in a trance off to the side. Robin however did notice and went to speak to him. "Are you alright?" he asked in concern. Roger was one of his most stable men and had never acted in such a fashion.

Roger simply nodded. Not very convincingly. Finally he said, "I think I should go back to camp."

"Not unless you give me a good reason," Robin said.

Roger stared at the cart. More specifically at Polly.

Robin looked to. And his face changed in surprise. For he saw the similarities. "Is she…?" he asked, but trailed off when he realised how strange it would sound.

But Roger nodded. "She is my daughter."

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.

The Sheriff glanced yet again toward the main road. But still he saw nothing. Exactly what he did not want to see.

His guards stood nervously, knowing full well what the Sheriff was prone to do when his plans went awry. He had a tendency to take out his anger on those around him. And one could easily tell that his anger was brewing.

They stood as near as they dared to the village entrance. Some believed that even breathing in the air could be a cause of the plague. That was the terrifying aspect. No one knew the cause. So there was no way to stop it.

But innocent lives meant little to the Sheriff. As long as tasks were completed. If the slaves lived, he would know the pestilence was over. And if they died, they were easily replaced.

"How long have we been standing here?" he asked calmly.

No man had the courage to answer. And besides, words were not needed. The cause of his problems was rather obvious. Even a fool could see.

Finally there was movement. The guards in question limped into view. Without the desired slaves. The Sheriff's fists clenched tightly. "Why would you dare show your faces here without my slaves?" he said, trying to withhold the fury.

They looked to each other, begging each other with glances for someone else to speak first. Finally, their leader stepped forward. The Sheriff noted the large bruise on his forehead and took slight pleasure from it. But that was where the good news ended.

"We were ambushed," he said, voice quivering, "by…"

"Don't you dare speak his name!" the Sheriff roared. He turned on his heel, striding slightly. He buried his face in one hand as he rubbed away the emerging headache. As he sighed, those around him thought how well he seemed to be handling everything. He absentmindedly flicked a hand to one of his own men who strode forward and stabbed his sword deep into the opposing leader. "The rest of you can go into the village," the Sheriff said, looking to Edwalton. "Start the experiment early. See how long you last."

Their terror was delicious. But it did not solve his problem. "Just once," he muttered to himself. "Just once, I would like something to go my way."

"Shall we return M'lord?" one guard asked, terror all over his face.

The Sheriff froze at his words. "Return? Return to what? Hood has defeated me again! I shall have those slaves and I shall have them now!"

The guard stammered, "but just before you were complaining. Saying that you did not particularly need them."

"Yes, but that was before Hood came into things!" the Sheriff said, not caring that he sounded like a child.

"M'lord," another guard said, pointing to the path, "Someone is approaching."

He was right. A lone rider was fast approaching them. The Sheriff raised a hand to his brow to block out the sun. But it was soon apparent that he did not know this man. And the Sheriff did not trust what he did not know. Whoever it was, he was handsome. Everything seemed too perfect. It made the Sheriff feel a little sick. Those perfect blue eyes and fair hair repulsed him.

The stranger dismounted and looked to the Sheriff with a look that the Sheriff had not seen in a long time. Finally he figured out what it was. The man did not look to him in fear. Another repulsive aspect. Or perhaps not. It was rather refreshing.

"You are the Sheriff I take it?" he said, still displaying genuine confidence.

"Who wants to know?" the Sheriff asked curiously.

The man smiled. "Guy of Gisbourne.

The Sheriff looked unimpressed. "And this is important to me because?"

Gisbourne dismounted as he said, "Lord Drayton sent me to ensure you received his gift."

"Well you can go back and tell your Lord Drayton that his debts are far from settled because no slaves were received!"

"He feared that would happen," Gisbourne said. "That is why he sent me."

The Sheriff paused, still off-put that the man had not so much as shuddered in his presence. "You mean to say that you will retrieve them?"

"That is why he sent me," Gisbourne repeated.

Something was not right but the Sheriff could not quit pin-point what it was. "Why did he not send you with the rest of them?"

"Well he hoped that he would not need me. I am more of a safety precaution. One that he hoped he would not need."

The Sheriff was still far from trusting him. But what did he have to lose?

Gisbourne smiled as he saw the other man relenting. "Tell me everything you know and I assure you, you will have your slaves."

Finally, the makings of a smile appeared on the Sheriff's face. "Those are the words I like to hear. I think I could learn to like you Gisbourne."