Valarie was even smaller than Lilly remembered. And never before had she met one so small. It constantly amazed her how someone so small could have such force. If you just walked past Valarie, you would think you were seeing a sweet old woman, who could not harm so much as a fly. But woe betide you if you angered her. No one could keep Nottingham Castle's servants in line better than she. Lilly remembered being on the receiving end of such anger many a time as a result of her laziness. And yet, Valarie welcomed her with the warmest of smiles. Lilly had always loved when she smiled, how her wrinkles stretched about her face and somehow made her look years younger. "Lilliana Scarlet," she said warmly. "Come crawling back have you?"
Lilly pulled back her hood cautiously, looking around desperately for guards. "Calm yourself child," Valarie said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Who do you think arranges the schedule of those pathetic excuses for guards. None are anywhere near this area."
Lilly laughed. "Would it be strange for me to say that I have missed you?"
Valarie glared at her, "it would be strange if you didn't! Now come here, let me look at you."
Lilly pretended to grumble as she stopped down to allow Valarie to place her hands on her face. That was always how Valarie showed affection. She was still a proper woman of course and embracing was highly out of the question. But Lilly had quickly worked out that the holding of ones face was reserved for those closest to her. Lilly felt oddly at home in that moment, looking into those familiar eyes. She had always loved how many colours were speckled amongst the brown.
Valarie was all too happy to ruin the moment, slapping her face gently. Lilly was sure that, had Valarie been a few years younger, she would have felt that slap a lot more. But for the time, she pretended to nurse her cheek. "What was that for?" she grumbled.
"Running off with outlaws for one thing! Disgracing all of the time I spent training you in matters of grace! Wearing the clothing of a man!"
"It's more comfortable," Lilly said with a shrug. And it was better for convenience too she had found. Once again, Lilly was a lazy soul. So hence, she hated washing her clothes regularly. She had quickly run out of dresses. And so she stumbled across a forgotten shirt of Benny's that fit her nicely. When that was dirtied she found a shirt of Roger's that she belted to ensure it would fit her, She had nothing against gowns but did quickly find that she had a preference for men's clothing.
She would have argued this further but noticed an odd look on Valarie's face.
"If your Father could see you now," Valarie said with a quiver in her voice.
Lilly felt as though she had been struck in the face. Tears pricked at her eyes. "What-?" she said, trying to defend herself.
Valarie just held up a wrinkled hand. "Let me finish! If your Father could see you now, he would be as proud of you as I am."
Lilly quickly forgot what was considered proper and ran forward to wrap her arms around Valarie. She hoped desperately that Valarie knew how thankful she was.
Lilly's Father had died in disgrace, whipped to death for stealing. And under the Sheriff's new laws, this should mean complete disgrace for the entire family. Many employers and tradesman would throw people out on the streets for any minor thing that a family member had done. All in fear of the Sheriff. But Valarie had stood firm and somehow, defended Lilly to keep her position.
Lilly finally pulled away. "So you really think my Father favoured always doing the right thing and helping others?"
"Of course! What sort of question is that?"
"But do you agree with it? Do you think that we, as rather well off people should be doing everything in our power to help those less fortunate."
Valarie placed her hands on her hips as she noticed where Lilly was headed. "Oh good Lord, what do you want from me?"
"I am here to help you! I know how you never had enough staff around the castle and I am here to remedy that!"
Suddenly Valarie's eyes were full of sadness. "I'm sorry Lilly. But the Sheriff has already been here. I cannot take your slaves."
A new voice joined the fray from the doorway. "Since when has the Sheriff stopped you from doing something that you put your mind to." Wilfred slowly entered the room, followed by a silent but triumphant Robin. Lilly was forced to surpass a giggle as she saw Valarie quickly straightening her dress and flicking back stray locks of hair. Robin pulled a face of disgust at her, which she did giggle at. She hoped that this was a sign that he had forgiven her for what she had said.
"Wilfred, you are not positioned anywhere near this part of the castle."
There was a spark in Wilfred's eye as he spoke. It made the younger pair suppress even more laughter. "Well Robin here came to ask for my help. Which, I should not be surprised by. That is after all, the only reason that the runt ever comes to see me."
"Why would I sit through such abuse if I wasn't going to get anything out of the experience?" Robin asked. They both ignored him. They only had eyes for each other.
Valarie sighed. "The Sheriff has already guessed this plan. He would notice any new servants."
Wilfred cocked his head to the side. "Does the Sheriff ever notice anything outside of his own ego? We just have to be clever about this. I'm sure Robin has a plan."
"Naturally," Robin said as his voice trailed away. "Lord of Improvisation is on the task!"
"England is in very secure hands," Wilfred said sarcastically, swatting at the back of Robin's head.
"Challenge accepted Wilfred."
.
.
.
"Right," I said. "I am ready to be amazed by this marvelous plan."
"What are you implying there Allen?" Robin said. He was paying little attention to me though. He was checking the sharpness of his sword against his thumb. Everyone snapped into action at this. We all knew that this was a sign that Robin was preparing to move out.
"So what are we doing?" John asked.
"What do you think we're doing Johnny boy?" Robin asked with a smirk.
John looked a tad startled and did not quite know how to reply.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Robin said, treating the whole thing like a game, "Stunned silence was not the answer. So the question goes to Much! What do you think we are going to do?"
Much made a few choking noises under pressure.
I rolled my eyes, thinking to put everyone out of their misery. "We are going to throw caution to the wind and attack the Sheriff's men somewhere to make a point to him. And you will threaten him and somehow things will work out?"
"Very good Allen!" he said, "that is in fact what we would normally do."
"Normally?" I asked cautiously.
"Yes," Robin added, "because if you suspect we will do that, then the Sheriff will think the same."
I smiled slowly. "So as he and his men all wait in bulk in one location…"
"We shall sneak everyone around in minor groups that would easily be overlooked," Robin finished.
I considered his words. "I suppose that could work," I said slowly, not wishing to give out praise.
"True words of glory indeed," Robin said happily, seeing through my guise.
"But I suppose that you expect me to think of a cover story for each individual group and entrance routes don't you?" I said with a sense of foreboding.
"Well I can't be expected to do all of the work," Robin said with a grin.
It seemed that a few of the Merry Men grew a tad more attached than others. Benny somehow became the crowd favourite. Even despite his language barrier for he was easily one of the worst amongst us with the French tongue. But somehow, his actions amused them rather than making them uncomfortable; a talent that we did not particularly have managed. We just gained that look of pity whilst he had them rolling on the floor laughing.
"Who would have thought huh?" Thomas said as he sat down beside me, following my gaze. He shuffled about uncomfortably for a moment with a grimace. "I hate these darn pews," he said, gently ramming his fists into the cold wood. "Church is boring enough, why must they insist on making take part in torture of sitting?"
"What are you babbling on about?" I asked in confusion.
"Oh right, my first point!" he said, struggling to remember. "Benny and his twelve apostles over there."
I ignored his horrible calculation. "You are really enjoying the religious imagery today aren't you?" I said with disinterest.
He responded by pretending to genuflect, all the while using the action to cover how he was pulling a small flask from his boot.
"Do you mind?" I asked incredulously, pulling him up by the scruff of his tunic. "We are in a Church!"
"Do you mind?" he asked, scrambling to retrieve his precious treasure. The sound of it falling had already created a small echo upon the stone floor but luckily for Thomas, Tuck was far off. He breathed a sigh of relief as he took a quick gulp and slipped it back into its hiding place.
"So what is your qualm with Benny?" I asked, straightening my own tunic, considering that I, unlike some present, took pride in my appearance.
He gave me a disgusted look as he flicked back a strand of long greasy hair. "Nothing much," he said, looking back at Benny. A strange look flickered over his face. If I hadn't had known better, I would have called it a flash of paternal instinct. "It's just nice that he found some people who can understand him a little better than we can." We both glimpsed the lad and his gaping grin. "And apparently he is their King," Thomas added, rather amused."
"What do you mean we don't understand him?" I asked, a tad confused.
"Yes, you completely understand him," Thomas said sarcastically, scrunching his nose up in that special way he did. "You were raised as a Norman, never wanting for a thing. As for him? He grew up on the streets. So that feeling of hopelessness, that fear and uncertainty for the future, well those folk there know it all too well."
I looked to him with startled surprise. "What?" he said in surprise, "I can be compassionate when I want to be!"
It was still difficult to believe. "Well," he said, slapping his knee to enthuse himself up. It was always one of his most annoying traits. The sound made me jump with great effect. The twinge it created almost sent me toppling from the pew into the aisle. "I shall be on my way now. To be frank, you bore me." And with that usual charm, he staggered off to annoy Much.
I laughed a tad at the way he strode. No matter how much he drank, it never changed. He displayed confidence and yet manage to look completely lost. Each step looked a tad unsure as he swayed a little more than he ought. And always, he maintained that contented smirk. It was important to note how silently cheerful he always was. Not in the obvious normal way. There were just little things about him always seemed quietly alight. But it was that moment that I first saw the surprising Fathering instinct within him. Something that would come in handy in his later years.
But more on that later. The most amusing aspect of the day was the initial meeting of Robin and Gisbourne. For Robin was on the war path. And as much as I hated to admit it, he had cause to be. For there was a spark between Marian and Gisbourne. One that I had only witnessed once before.
"I come bearing apples!" Amelia called, breezing back into the church. She was followed by an enervated Matthew who dragged forth a large wooden barrel.
"Not a problem," Matthew wheezed. His voice was barely audible.
Amelia was beaming as many a French person came politely up to her, using appropriate manners and thanking her with extreme enthusiasm. So basically, the very things she never received from us. "Yes, yes. She is brilliant isn't she," Matthew huffed, stretching out his arms in a series of deep clicks. "My back will never be the same again," he muttered. But he smiled as he spoke. He never needed thanks.
"You know, you could all learn a little something from this lot," Amelia said pointedly to the nearest Merry Men.
"Yes, yes, we are rude bastards," Thomas said, sounding bored. "That is nothing new love."
"Pass the apples over here!" John called from a distant pew.
He was greeted by Amelia's death glare. Now I have seen some sights in my time. But nothing could possibly terrify us more than that very glare. So John quickly changed his tune and added a "please?"
Amelia rolled her eyes and aimlessly tossed an apple in his direction. It fell short which was lucky as John's flailing arms would never have come close. "True skill there," Thomas said with a snicker. "Toss one over here!"
"Allow me," Lilly said with an evil smirk. She had long since surprised us with her impeccably strong arm. Within moments the apple was shooting toward Thomas with impeccable speed. He knew that all of his dignity was hanging upon that moment. With relief, both hands gripped around his target as he whopped in delight.
This minor event managed to fill in a small amount of the incredulous waiting time. Valarie had informed them of the moment in which the guards would be changing, which was our only opportunity. Until then, all we could do was wait. And oh how the time dragged. So I watched with slight amusement as the French continued to display grace and decency while the Merry Men called over rudely to demand their fruit. They also displayed a range of talents through this. Marian managed to gracefully catch her apple with ease. Much managed to be struck in the head.
Robin ignored all of this action as he pretended to be planning teams and covers for the plan. Instead he just stole glances toward Marian and Gisbourne to check up on them. One could near feel the anger floating from him. Levon surprised him by loudly placing his apple onto the pew in front of him. "Subtlety," he said with raised eyebrows, "ever heard of it?"
"I wasn't…" Robin said, beginning to defend himself but he could see that it would go to no avail.
"That is just how Robin looks when he thinks," I lied, half heartedly as I sat beside him. Robin gave me a thanking look.
"Well now I am convinced," Levon said with a sarcastic chuckle. He sat two pews in front of us, leaving his apple resting on top. Robin glared at it as a cover to continue to sneak glances. "I know that you are still looking," Levon said in a sing song know it all voice. Quick as a wink, Robin had lifted his bow, nocked an arrow and sent it jarring into the apple, missing Levon's shoulder by an inch. All the while, I laughed quietly. "Was that really necessary?" Levon moaned, his voice going very high pitched.
"Apparently so," Robin said, finally smiling again.
It was then that Gisbourne made his first mistake. He had witnessed the whole event from a nearby pew. 'You should really bend your bow arm slightly," he said off handedly. We all sucked in our breaths as the fool continued. "If your arm is more rounded, your aim will improve."
Robin slowly stood, rising himself to his full height. "Do you really think that I need archery advice? Do you know who I am?"
Gisbourne also rose to his full height. Unfortunately from Robin, this was a few inches taller. He ignored it. Gisbourne was still smiling with good intent, not quite realising the hole he was digging for himself. "So the mighty Robin Hood is unable to take criticism? Interesting."
Robin made a point of looking Gisbourne up and down and sneering slightly. "Especially from the likes of you."
On could tell how Gisbourne's smile was no longer true. Yet he still kept it on. "Well you know, there is always room for improvement."
Robin tilted his head. "I'm sorry, have you not heard of me?"
The nearest Merry Men rolled their eyes, knowing that there was no stopping Robin when he was like this. I was the main one, groaning inwardly at the hole that Robin. Marian was slowly shaking her head, breathing out a single laugh.
"Oh yes, I have heard of you," Gisbourne said. "Tales of you have reached France. The main tale would probably being the spring tournament from last year."
Robin's face turned stone hard. I let out a sputtered laugh and was met by a death glare. "I'm sorry," I sputter, trying desperately to stop the laughter. But Gisbourne had just defeated Robin. And we all knew it. Most reacted as I did with muffled laughter. There were those (Thomas) who completely lost themselves in laughter. Robin stood still, eyes narrowed bearing his shame. It was a long time ago, a fair few months. Nothing that special or out of the ordinary. Just another archery tournament that Robin had seen fit to attend in disguise, thinking to wow the crowds and infuriate the Sheriff. But (as I warned him) the Sheriff had been prepared. Things happened. Events occurred. And basically, one of the Sheriff's guards shot an arrow toward Robin just as Robin was aiming his final shot. Robin always possessed amazing instincts and heard the twang. Dodging saved his life, but also sent his would be winning arrow askew. Naturally, the Sheriff spun the story a little differently. He flaunted the fact that the 'so-called perfect' Robin Hood had failed in a plot and 'embarrassed' himself publically.
His words were actually half true. Robin hated the memory, not allowing any of us to bring it up under threat of death. So Gisbourne's word created quite the stir. "I was being shot at," Robin said simply, knowing that it made little difference.
"Of course you were," Gisbourne said with a small smirk. "But maybe if your arm was a little more rounded, you could have made the winning shot in time."
I snorted. Marian's eye positively sparkled. "Am I to understand that the mighty Robin Hood was defeated by a mere guard?" she said with delight.
"No!" Robin said defensively. "He just… Well…"
"So yes," I said under my breath.
"What do you know of archery anyway?" Robin said accusingly to Gisbourne. "Who are you to question me?"
Second big mistake. Gisbourne's smile broadened. "Excuse me," he said politely to Benny. "Could I bother you for your bow?"
"Be my guest," Benny said, looking far too excited. But then again, we all were. There was something in the air that told us that Robin was about to be challenged. And this was long over-due.
Gisbourne received the bow with thanks and studied it briefly, running his fingers down the brittle wood. He did not say anything for Benny's sake, but it was obvious not a very good bow. And Benny was such a short lad so therefore, his bow was made to match. Gisbourne was much taller. Robin smiled slightly, knowing that the odds were in his favour.
"What is my target then?" Gisbourne said, not letting the bow phase him in the slightest.
Robin tossed me his apple. "Set this up on the alter," he said.
"Yes master," I said sarcastically but did as instructed and jogged to the far end of the Church. I placed the apple as far forward as I dared. It would not fair well for me if Robin thought I was helping the enemy.
I needn't have worried. Gisbourne smoothly raised his bow, leveling it easily. He made a point of rounding his left arm. For his time aiming, one could scarcely see a twitch form him. He became completely still as he focused on his target alone. And then his right hand released the arrow. There was a single whoosh sound as the arrow soared across the Church to split the apple perfectly through the middle. Even from my far vantage point I was struck with the flowing juices. Applause ran wild as the French praised their hero and the Merry Men rejoiced someone teaching Robin a lesson.
"A lucky shot," Robin said, pushing the thought away.
Amelia pulled for a rag. "This is not what I had in mind when I labored to bring you lot those apples."
"You labored?" Matthew said incredulously.
"They are going to mess up my Church now aren't they?" Tuck said flatly but no one was listening.
"Set up another apple!" Robin called, drawing forth his own bow.
"Because this should definitely be our top priority," I muttered as I ran back to fetch the next target. Knowing who I was dealing, I saw fit to snatch an additional few. And then I gave up and took back the entire barrel, knowing that blood was about to be spilt.
"Make a little harder Allen," Robin called to me, thinking to impress. "I have no business making easy shots," he said pointedly.
Gisbourne put a hand to his heart. "I am ready to be astounded."
I looked to my surroundings. There was little more space to go further back. The front of the Church consisted of a large stained glass window, surrounded by a wooden frame. This frame jutted out slightly which allowed me to balance an apple upon it. I hoped this would appease Robin since the alter would most likely cover most of the target. Robin would have little more than an inch and his arrow would have to skim the altar without going off course. Robin knew this and concentrated completely. He too, shut off the rest of the world, seeing only the red of his apple. And once again, I felt the spurt of apple juice.
There was more applause. Even Marian seemed a tad impressed, though she tried to hide it. Things were as they should be. Robin had learnt a lesson but still won. This was ideal. If Robin had learnt nothing, he would have been intolerable with ego. If he had lost, he would have been intolerable with defiance.
But then Gisbourne spoke again. "Would you kindly throw one of those into the air?" he called down to me.
I pulled a face. Surely not. A moving target at such a distance. Interesting. And I had a nasty feeling that his arrow would perfectly split the apple.
I was right. And for a brief moment, Robin looked worried. But then that moment ended. "Allen," he called down calmly, "do you have different coloured apples?"
Looking to the barrel, I called back, "Yes."
He ordered for one red and three green. "Throw them all at once."
"Oh for goodness sake," Marian muttered.
"Just you watch," Robin said to her with a wink. "I will hit the red."
"And we shall all wonder at the marvel that is your skill," she said sarcastically. But even she was slightly agape as I juggled the four apples in my hands and threw them to the heavens. The rest of us took a moment to search through the sunlight to find the red. And by that point, Robin had already split it.
"Please say that it is over," Levon said.
Gisbourne considered. "Add two extra apples," he called to me. "Two of mixed colour."
It took a moment to search the barrel for such coloring but eventually two were found. After a pause, they too were flung. And once more, the targeted apple split.
"We are never going to be done are we?" Levon said, to no one in particular.
Robin looked to me. "Same again. But I want two targets."
Benny dropped the goblet from which he had been drinking. "Oh Lord." Tuck greeted him with a look.
Finally, Gisbourne seemed concerned. Surely no one could make such a shot.
He obviously did not know Robin as the rest of us did. Robin flicked his fingers back and forth briefly to test their speed. Satisfied, he drew his first arrow. His quiver was ready with one final arrow. Benny's quiver was emptied, showing that Gisbourne had no more chances. All was riding on Robin's final targets.
"Ready?" I called down nervously.
Robin began to raise his bow but looked to Marian instead of the target. She no longer looked to him in despise. She now held only curiosity. She had trained along side Robin with me. Both of us thought back to those days. Wilfred and Robin had spent weeks improving Robin's speed. Marian had left before the skill was perfected and I had been far too busy to attend all training sessions. So neither of us knew if Robin had finally perfected the art.
Robin finally turned his head down to me. "Ready," he said with a smile.
Muttering a silent prayer, I threw forth the enormous bundle. Seven apples went flying into the air. Three green. Two multicoloured. Two completely red. Instantly, one was split but in the time it took for Robin to draw his second arrow, they had long since began their descent. I had throw askew and the began to fall in all possible direction. To find the pure red apple would have been impossible. And yet, suddenly I felt a spraying of juice from atop my head. The red apple had fallen above me. And I felt a breeze atop my head. I had been wearing a brown hat, the very image of Robin's green article.
As we all looked to wooden frame, there was a universal gasp. Robin's arrow pinned both the apple and my hat to the very edge of the window. One inch to the left would have cracked the window. One inch down would have hit me. But damn, it had to be said. Robin was good.
"You may now close your mouths and praise me," Robin said happily.
Gisbourne slowly lowered his bow. "Touché," he said simply.
.
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.
E3 part 4
"You know, I really am too clever," the Sheriff said thoughtfully to the captain of his guard as they strode the halls.
The Captain seemed unsure of how to answer. He was unsure if he was meant to answer at all. "Of course Milord," he said simply.
The Sheriff seemed slightly put out. "Well aren't you going to ask me why?" he said accusingly.
The Captain held back his groan. "And why is that Sire?" he said after a pause.
"Glad you asked!" the Sheriff said with a flourish. "Well that is a difficult question to answer. After all, there are so many options. For I am clever for so many different reasons. But today, we shall focus on today. And today, I have taken something small and meaningless and created a situation from which I cannot lose."
His gloating was put on hold as he saw Gisbourne approaching him. "Any sign of them?"
"Not yet," Gisbourne said, feigning a look of disappointment. "But I assure you, Hood told me his plan. The fool trusts me."
The Sheriff smiled in approval. "I love it. Hood will bring them all to the North entrance and will encounter the lovely surprise of fifty of my best men. However did you manage it Gisbourne?"
"I have a friend on the inside who I knew would vouch for me."
The Sheriff groaned. "And I suppose that you are about to beg me to allow this friend to live."
"Only if it pleases you Milord. Your judgment is law after all."
The Sheriff stopped, looking Gisbourne up and down. "You know, I think I like you Gisbourne. You would betray your own friends to see my plans succeed. And you have a way with my enemies."
Gisbourne bowed his head modestly. "I only wish to do my duty."
The Sheriff strode about as he thought aloud. "And you have no lands to speak?"
"No Sire," Gisbourne said with a small cough.
"Minimal funds?"
"Times have been hard."
With a swift turn, the Sheriff surprised Gisbourne by saying, "come and work for me."
Gisbourne widened his eyes slightly. "I'm sorry? What?"
"Come and live in Nottingham. I could give you lands. Estates. You just need to prove yourself to me."
Before Gisbourne could reply, there was a crash. "Robin Hood!" the Sheriff bellowed, shoving both the Captain and Gisbourne forward. The Captain ran forward to investigate but came back to inform that them a guard had dropped a crate whilst unloading supplies.
"Of course," the Sheriff said, straightening his tunic. The gold thread shone from the light from the staffs as he paced about the main entrance way. He sat down upon an ornate stone bench. "I have no reason to worry," he said with a laugh. "My plan is flawless. Perfect even. There is no way Hood could ever get past me."
Gisbourne and the Guard would have listened, but there attention was focused elsewhere. For at that exact moment, two servants entered through one of the left archers, sweeping away the dirt. And yes, one of them was me. The other was one of my favourite French men. We both kept our heads down, pretending to sweep our way across the courtyard. We were dressed in the usual garb of servants with mud and dirt smeared all over us. As long as I kept my head down, and my partner kept silent, we would never be discovered.
The Sheriff was a tad upset at our mere presence. "Do that later!" he yelled. "Get back to your quarters."
I tried my hardest to keep the smile from my face. He had just ordered us to very place from which he was trying desperately to keep from. So instead, we kept our heads down, bowed slightly and quickly walked away.
"Now where was I?" the Sheriff said, more to himself than those present. He so did love the sound of his own voice. I suspect that was why he continued on boasting. Gisbourne and the Captain were far more interested in the weeping widows who wandered past. There were five in total, all dressed in rags. The few words that escaped past the sobs spoke of an accident and small words like that. Amelia played her part well and seemed to be enjoying being a little more practical in her ways of helping us. The shortest widow looked a tad less enthusiastic. Much had groaned continuously about having to play a female. But we had insisted. And not just because we enjoyed seeing him uncomfortable. Robin also insisted on an able-bodied Merry Man being in every group where possible.
The trick worked like a charm. The Sheriff rolled his eyes at the sight. "I detest widows," he moaned. "That damn moaning. Get rid of them."
The same went for the young lovers who dashed past next. They pretended to be startled by the sight of the Sheriff and ran off. Matthew had been a tad uncomfortable at playing such a role. But a fair few females insisted and then fought over who would accompany him.
And still the Sheriff continued on his mad boast ignoring the sick and injured who limped past. And so he ignored the inquisitive village folk seeking Noble council. And the fistfight that somehow managed to break out where he was standing. And that was just our first few ideas. For each Merry Man would drop off their intended, sneak out of a small trap door, run around the castle wall and select a new group. Eventually we ran out of ideas and began to repeat the old ones. The Sheriff was none the wiser.
Not all were as blind as the Sheriff. But Gisbourne was a part of the plan. Our main concern was the Captain of the Guard. Gisbourne watched him closely out of the corner of his eye, waiting for a sign. But the Guard said nothing. His face remained blank. Some considered him dimwitted. But I saw a look in his eyes. Something that made me trust him. Somehow, I just knew that he was on our side.
"We could actually do this!" I said in astonishment as I made my way back successfully once more. Only Simon was left.
"You sound surprised," Robin said, sounding hurt.
"Well honestly I am," I said, "It is a plan that you thought up."
Benny returned shortly after me. "Shall I take Simon? We haven't been lowly servants in a while."
"No I will handle this one," Robin said, clapping Simon on the back. "I hate just sitting around."
"You were hardly just sitting around," Benny said. "You were guarding everyone in case they were discovered."
"Yes well, it got a tad tiresome. So time to go. Come on Simon."
Simon was all too happy to allow Robin to accompany him. After all, most would feel safest under the protection of Robin Hood himself. "And if they recognise you?" I asked Robin in a hushed voice.
He laughed in my face.
.
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.
Polly danced about the corridor, most likely imagining herself in Marian's 'ruined' gown. Marian looked at her with an odd look upon her face. She felt a strong feeling of wistfulness. For it seemed so long since she could dance about with the joy of being a child. Not since she was that young girl, before she was sent away from us.
"Polly," Marian said, trying her best to sound stern. "You are supposed to be my Lady's Maid. Do you really think that would entail dancing around like a fool?"
The girl just giggled. "Unbelievable," Marian said with what was intended to be a sign. The action turned into a laugh. "Do you ever worry about anything?"
"Why should I worry?" Polly said absentmindedly, pulling at the snags on her collar.
"Well you have had quite the day today."
"Yes and wasn't it wonderful?" Polly said, flinging her arms back in happiness.
"The child is well and truly mad," Marian said to herself in wonderment.
Eventually, the child was forced to stop for breath. "I know I shouldn't say this, but I have had so much fun!" Polly said as she slumped down on the floor. "And my, Robin Hood is just as handsome as they say."
Marian snorted. Polly's wide eyes fixated upon her. "Don't you think so?"
Marian let out a nervous laugh as her eyes darted about. "Polly you are much to young to understand…"
"Oh I understand plenty," Polly said with a smirk. "You were far too busy watching Guy to even notice Robin."
"Well I-" Marian tried to say but could not quite find the words. "Who could have possibly raised you to be so forward child?"
Finally Polly showed the slightest hint of sadness. "My parents died long ago."
Marian slowly knelt down beside her. "I am so sorry," she said, resisting the urge to kick herself.
Polly just shrugged. "Oh well. 'Twas a long time ago."
But Marian knew that the child was lying. There was far too much sadness there.
It was then that they heard the cry. That horrid shriek of a man dying.
"Wait here," Marian said firmly, all joking aside. Her face was a mask of seriousness that almost stunned Polly.
"But I'm scared," she whimpered.
Marian clasped both the hands of the girl. "Today I have seen many people. Outlaws and slaves. All showed great strength. But none like you. Now I need you to wait here. Be completely silent. I will come back for you."
Polly nodded her head, blinking back tears.
Marian rose quickly, patting the hidden pocket in her skirts. One dagger was sheathed and ready. It was not much, but it would do. She did not wish to frighten Polly further so she made an effort of calmly walking down the corridor until there was a turn. From there, she ran silently, her feet barely hitting the ground. Her curls feel free from the pins in her haste. There was just something about that scream. Something that made her blood run cold.
She found a scene of complete chaos and confusion. We had been discovered. Our plan had taken a little longer than expected and the Guard's had changed their positioning. Bad timing was the main factor. A large clump of guards strode past just as Simon stumbled backward, knocking over a large sculpture and making a spectacle of himself. When they had stopped to inspect him, he had not know enough English to convince them of his innocence. So the approached him, swords at the ready. "Well aren't you glad I was here now?" Robin said, drawing back his hood and puling forth his own sword. Benny and I were not far behind as we had followed in secret, thinking that something was due to go wrong. Everything had been too easy. This alerted us that something was bound to happen. And thank the heavens we thought that way for even with us present, we were still horribly outnumbered. The ruckus we made managed to create quite the stir however. The noise of it all brought Matthew and Levon to our midst. It also, unfortunately, brought forth the Sheriff and Gisbourne. Now, Gisbourne was forced to fight against us to keep up appearance. And sadly, he was just as talented with a sword as he was with a bow. He held back as much as he dared but seemingly he wished to prove himself to the Sheriff. Apparently, an offer of considerable meaning had been offered. Simon had grasped at a sword of a fallen guard and managed to wave it about, knocking back a few guards rather impressively. But he still lacked the skill and training.
I heard the words all too clearly as the Sheriff muttered them. "Kill him." Without a word, a guard strode silently behind Simon and plunged his sword deep into his side.
A guard leapt in front of me, drawing my attention away. But I still heard the screams. When finally I could look again, I saw Gisbourne breaking rank to drag Simon's limp body away from the fighting and down a small hidden hallway.
There were too many guards. I could see us struggling. The Sheriff's smirk could no have been wider. "I really am too clever," he said with delight.
Finally the remaining Merry Men joined us, including, to my surprise, Will and Luke. "Where the hell have you been?" I roared.
"Honestly," Luke said, "we disappear for one day and this happens. Can we not trust you with anything?"
The numbers began to tread more in our favour. The added Merry Men joined the fight with a fresh set of eyes and were still refreshed from a day of rest whilst the guard began to tire. Needless to say, the Sheriff no longer looked smug.
With one final swing, I knocked back my final guard. My head snapped around to search for my next target but there were no more. The ratios were definitely in our favour and I found myself with a brief moment of rest.
"What happened to Simon?" Robin said, running up beside me.
I pointed as I ran. "Gisbourne pulled him back here."
The small corridor was barely large enough for one of us to run so I followed behind Robin. There was just one small side-room, covered by a curtain. From there, we could hear voices. They spoke in hushed tones but I could still hear one phrase before we reached them. It was Simon who spoke, saying, "Je veux ce qui a été promis."
Before I had time to question, Robin had pulled back the curtain. There we saw Gisbourne knelt beside Simon. But Simon was far off then I could have ever imagined. When I saw him being carried away, I saw only a wound to the side. When that curtain was gone, it was difficult to see where the blood originally came from for it coated him so.
Simon looked to us with fear in his eyes. "Please," he begged, panting from the effort. And then, in broken English he managed to say on line. "It… was… him…" And he shakingly pointed his finger at Gisbourne. His hand only rose a few inches before it became limp. Before our very eyes, he convulsed, making a horrid gurgling sound as he choked upon the blood drooling from his lips. Finally, his whole bodied shuddered one final time and then was still.
Robin drew his sword. The sound of the metal created a clear ringing sound into the silence. And he pointed it toward Gisbourne. "What did you do?" he said in a dark voice.
Gisbourne looked up to us, blinking back tears. His voice stammered and only sounds came out. "He- I-"
Robin held back his sword as he strode forward and used his spare hand to yank Gisbourne up by his collar. "WHAT DID YOU DO?" Robin said again, this time yelling.
"Nothing!" Gisbourne cried. "He said that to save me!"
Robin's sword was not at Gisbourne's throat and his eyes were full of hatred.
"Robin!" Marian yelled, rushing forward to pull him back. It took all of her strength as Robin simply jerked his shoulders back to try to throw her off. But she pulled back harder and eventually he stumbled back. Gisbourne simply slid down to the wall to sit limply down.
"He killed Simon!" Robin said, trying to get around Marian. She continued to doge back and forth to not allow past. "Look at him!" she yelled, gesturing to Gisbourne. The man seemed a mere shadow of himself. Completely lost. "Do you really think him capable of such a thing?"
"I think him capable of lying and putting on a good show!" Robin snarled, shoving Marian out of the way. She stumbled back and I caught her.
"Robin, let him explain," I said, my voice sounding more like a croak.
Gisbourne stared into nothingness. "He was dying and he knew it," he whispered. "So he wanted me to say that I assisted in his death. He knew that I needed the Sheriff's favour."
"You align yourself with our enemy then!" Robin yelled.
"Which is hardly a crime punishable by your blade!" Marian said.
"But he is lying!" Robin added, still yelling.
The other Merry Men began to trickle in. The braver ones stood close, waiting for defining orders. Some stayed outside. "I saw Simon when Gisbourne was being pulled away," I said quietly. "He did not have so many wounds as he does now."
"Can you be sure?" Lilly asked, kneeling down beside Gisbourne. "There was so much occurring at once. Perhaps you were mistaken."
"So now Allen is a liar?" Robin said, his fury turned toward Lilly.
Lilly looked to him, chin held high. "I think you are fast to condemn Robin. And I shall not stand for it."
She stood in front of Gisbourne and Marian joined her. "More guards could be along any moment," Lilly said sternly. "I suggest we move on."
Robin remained staunch. "But he-"
"Move on, Robin!" Marian yelled.
It took a moment but finally he sheathed his sword. "Come on," he said to us quietly. "We head back to camp."
Once he turned, I saw Lilly breath out a sigh of relief. She finally let go of all of the fear she had been holding back. Marian touched her arm appreciatively and Lilly smiled back.
A hand touched my shoulder startled me. "Come on," Much said kindly. "We best be heading back."
We walked side by side without speaking and eventually he noted how I muttered beneath my breath. "What are you saying?" he asked curiously.
"Nothing," I said, not wanting to explain myself.
Much slowed his walk, ensuring that we were a fair distance behind the last Merry Man. I slumped my shoulders and finally explained. "I heard Simon say something to Gisbourne before Robin and I arrived."
Much looked concerned. "What was it?"
I sighed. "It was in French. But I recognised a few of the words. I think it was something about a promise."
"A promise?" Much said, crinkling his nose slightly. "Maybe that was the promise. That Simon would blame Gisbourne so that he would gain favour?"
"That would make sense if it was the Sheriff who had walked through those doors. But Simon knew it was us. He looked right at Robin!"
Much stopped walked to face me. "Allen, do you want my advice?"
These words surprised me.
"Leave this alone. Do not speak of it again. And most of all, do not bring this up to Robin."
"But he-"
"-Has no need to know," Much said, finishing my sentence. "With any luck, this will all be forgotten in a matter of days. Gisbourne can sail back to France and this will be nothing but a bad memory.
Once Robin had calmed down, he walked alongside Roger, staring at him every now and then. But it was obvious that he would not be allowed to say a thing. Polly had to be forgotten. It was the only way.
Somehow, the evening did not feel like a success.
.
.
.
Within a few days, Gisbourne had officially taken up residency in Nottingham castle under the patronage of the Sheriff. It seemed that the Sheriff had a new right hand man. And a clever one at that. This was a man that we would have done well to remain close to. But Robin would not hear of it. To him, Gisbourne was officially the enemy.
Even then, I knew that a storm was brewing. But I choose to ignore it. Just as I choose to ignore Roger's strange new moods and mannerism. Something had deeply upset him and I was none the wiser.
Instead, I focused on my new wanted posters. Robin had seen fit to run around all of Nottingham with an inkwell. England had found itself with new notorious outlaws. Lord of Improvisation and Lord of Sarcasm.
And he was darn proud of it too.