Many thanks to my beta Kegel, who did this in a hurry so I could get this up (Be sure to thank her). Love the reviews, its great motivation. Longer chapter this time (To make up for some of the short ones)


Chapter 28: Escape

He couldn't see, it was that dark. The dim realization was coming to him even after he opened his eyes. He could feel the ground beneath him, pressing against his cheek, fingers digging into dirt as they curled into fists. Memory evaded him at first, several agonizing seconds passing as he started to piece together what had happened. Slowly, with hesitation, he moved to his knees, bracing himself with his hands.

He could hardly breathe through the cloth, and so pulled it off, regretting it almost immediately. The air was thick with debris, heavy and almost solid as he broke out into a coughing fit. Feebly Robin reached up to grab the end of the cloth, pressing it against his mouth and nose as he tried to calm his shaking body. He could remember what had happened, and knew that he needed to find a way out. The only problem was the fact that he still could not see, and he had no idea where he even was.

Robin had gone as far as he could when the first of the tremors started. Now he couldn't remember if he had gone towards the main shaft, where the entrance was, or towards the caves where the miners slept. That thought pained him, not necessarily because he was lost, but more so because he knew there were others trapped down here with him.

Much was among his first thoughts, but there were others, too. Women, children…what had happened to them? How far had the cave-in occurred? How many had already died?

The memories of Treeton sprang into his mind, knowing that the village had suffered more than its fair share of losses due to the dangerous trade. But there was always a way out, there was always help for them, friends and family…there was none of that here.

Robin let out another series of coughs, leaning against one of the walls of the caverns. His eyes had still not adjusted to his surroundings, and they burned, Robin blinking fiercely to try and clear them of the dust that wafted in the air. He tried to listen, to see if he could distinguish any sounds that would tell him something. There had been others around him when he last remembered. Surely there was someone here now.

He waited a few more minutes, allowing time for the coughs to die down, and hoping by chance he would hear something. When nothing came, it was apparent he would be on his own in finding a way out. For a fleeting moment he thought of Much, wondered if by any chance he could find the man. That task, he feared, would be near impossible.

It was difficult enough when things were well. Nathaniel's group compassed this shaft, as well as several of the neighboring ones. Garner's lot, the man Much was scheduled under, occupied the tunnels towards the ends of the mines, almost side by side with the cave in which they slept. In order to get there, Robin would have to also pass through Fletcher's section, which was another group of tunnels. He knew the way by memory, but only first by knowing where he was. Without knowing that, he couldn't figure out what direction to even take.

He closed his eyes, unable to see anything anyway, his breath hitching in his chest as he tried to think. A warm heaviness was beginning to settle over him, and despite his situation he felt strangely calm. By sitting here, taking a moment to catch his breath, he was feeling better, he was feeling…tired.

Robin sat upright, opening his eyes to once again find himself surrounded by cold reality. If he fell asleep now, there would be no telling what would possibly happen. He needed to move, one way or the other he had to stay awake. If he could find someone, or at least an area of the mine he recognized, then he could figure out what way he needed to go. Stumbling to his feet, Robin kept himself braced against the wall that was to his left, and using that as a guide, he started walking.

His steps were slow, awkward, several times stumbling over debris. Several were large chunks of rock, others were loose piles of what he assumed to be coal, stuff that had already been mined and had been ready to be taken above. Robin had been walking for several minutes before he found the first body.

He had tripped, Robin knowing straight away what it had been. The skin was cold to his touch, and fumbling in the dark he could already tell there was no breath being drawn, nor was there any pulse. Drained, he sat where he was, trying to wrap his mind around what was happening.

Robin was no stranger to death. He had seen it many times, had caused it even more while on the battlefield, fighting for the king. Even his return to England hadn't stopped all his killing. The war had curbed it, no doubt, but there were times still where Robin hadn't been able to control himself. What was odd now was the feeling. He felt empty, useless, having done nothing to prevent or change any of this. It was a clear reminder that he needed to act, that something had to be done. Slowly, he began to move forward again, still using the wall as a guide.

He walked in the darkness like this for a time. His pace was slow, with careful steps to avoid falling, and he stopped to check the few bodies he passed, but all were the same. How could it be that all the people that were around him only a short time ago were now dead? Why had he been spared, when the others were not? The thought stayed with him, even when he saw the first hint of light. Robin quickened his pace, following it, relieved almost to have found something different, to be able to see no matter how little it was.

Now he recognized where he was, back in the central shaft, the ladder leading up through the gloom and to the ground above. Grasping the rungs he started to climb, moving faster as he neared the opening. There were hands that grabbed him, and helped him up the last few steps, and Robin sank to the grass below his knees as he let out a sigh of relief.

The air was fresh, cool and inviting as he pulled away the cloth, now sticky from his sweat. It caused his throat to tickle, and a fresh bout of coughs sputtering from his lips as he sat there. A hand fell on his shoulder, and he glanced up as another guard knelt near him, offering a swatch of cloth and indicating to his forehead.

"You're bleeding," the man informed him, and Robin recognized Nathaniel's voice. Looking closer now, he could see the man under all the dirt and grime. It clung to his features, his face brown, almost black, with dirt clinging to his eyebrows and beard, as well as saturating his hair. He too showed signs of injury, spattering of dried blood on his clothes and some coating his face. Robin theorized he most likely looked of a similar state as he pressed the cloth against his head.

Now he could feel the pain, and he winched, checking himself over for more injuries as if the thought just occurred to him. His sleeve was stained red, the cloth torn just above the wrist, and there was another, similar injury to his knee. But nothing felt broken, which was a relief in itself.

"What happened?"

The question was an odd one to ask, seeing Robin had more or less deduced for himself what had taken place. Yet he wasn't sure of what else to say.

"One of the tunnels gave in," the man offered up as an explanation. He had taken Robin's arm, pushing back the sleeve to look at the fresh injury. "We're not sure how far the damage extends."

"We have to go back down there," Robin muttered, remembering the few bodies he had come across. There was no hope for them, he knew, but if he had survived, then surely some others had as well.

"It's too dangerous," Nathaniel shook his head, using a fresh cloth to clean the wound. Robin flinched at the unexpected pressure, his eyes narrowing.

"There are others down there, we have to help them."

"No one goes down into the mines until we'll told otherwise."

"We can't just-"

"The others know what to do," Nathaniel cut him off promptly, his voice firm. The man finished tying a bandage around his arm, pulling back. "This is not the first time this has happened, trust me. The workers go back to the caves, and wait there. The guards and children come back here. And we wait."

"How long?" Robin was growing frustrated. He could not just sit up here and do nothing while others were suffering below. Some had already died, others were wounded, no doubt. How bad off was Much? Was the man even still alive? The thought made his breath catch. Of course he was…he would be fine, had to be fine. Garner's area was a good distance away from Nathaniel's, surely the cave-in hadn't spread that far.

"We can't be sure," the man confessed, "It might be a few hours, it could be a few days."

"Days?" They could not wait that long. Even for those who were unharmed, it would mean several days without food, without water. People would starve. "What about the workers? How will they eat?"

"There are stores down there," the man reassured him. "Did you think we wouldn't have any provisions? Any sort of plan? I've told you, this has happened before."

It was hardly a reassurance. Robin didn't want to dwell on it, instead he wanted to act. How could he lounge around up here, when there were others in need of help below? Lives could be saved, but only if they responded quickly. By the looks of it, no one was intent on helping. Many of the guards had left the area completely, returning to the manor. Robin was one of the few who remained, and he winced as Nathaniel took a look at his leg.

"It's not deep, but we'll have to clean it inside, before infection sets in."

"You seem skilled at this," Robin muttered, taking the hand that was offered to him. Before, in the mines, he hadn't noticed the pain. Now he was wincing with each step.

"I happen to know a little about medicine," the man admitted. "Seems to come in handy with this job. Let's get that taken care of."

Robin lingered, long enough to turn back. He could see several men guarding the entrance. He doubted it was to keep anyone from entering; only he was crazy enough to consider going back down there after what had happened. Perhaps instead they were waiting to see if any of the other guards, or children, appeared. And if it was a worker? Robin shook his head. They wouldn't have allowed it.

He needed to get back down there. But the question was how. It had to happen soon. He would not be able to rest, conscience aside, he wanted to make sure Much was alright. He had the feeling that it was going to be a long night, and the sun had yet to even set.


He was fuming. His steps were erratic as he paced, back and forth in the room, fingernails digging into the flesh of his hands as they clasped behind his back. The two guards stood motionless by the door, both ready to bolt if given the word of dismissal, but neither moving for fear of incurring even more wrath. Working for the Sheriff of Nottingham was not an easy job; in fact, it was a downright dangerous job, especially at times like this.

Finally the man stopped, his breath coming out in a snort as he faced them. Vaysey scrutinized them both, and then held up his hands.

"Explain to me, one more time, exactly how this happened?"

The two guards glanced at one another nervously, and then the first spoke, clearing his throat as he did so. "We took the prisoner to the upper level as suggested. The key wouldn't work, to open the cell, so I offered to take a look."

"And while you were looking…at a key," Vaysey continued, "Who was watching the prisoner?"

"I was," the other man admitted in a grimace.

"And what happened then?"

He was speaking in a soft, gentle voice, like the one a parent would use to scold a child. The guard shifted, squeaking out a reply.

"He got away…?"

"He got away," the sheriff nodded, and then laughed, amused. Nervously the guards laughed too, feeling for the first time a bit of relief since coming here. Reporting bad news to the sheriff was often met with unfavorable results. But it felt like he was taking it well. The sheriff was laughing still, an uproarious chuckle that suddenly turned into a yell.

"HE GOT AWAY!"

Vaysey glared at them, the anger apparent in his eyes. The man was short, coming only to their shoulders but he was far more intimidating than anything they had seen. Quickly they backpedaled, coming to a stop against the wall.

"There is now an outlaw on the loose, one of Robin Hood's men, roaming the streets. The very same man you were supposed to question. And you let him get away!"

"There…there are others, milord," the first guard stammered. "We could just get one of them-"

"So that you can let them escape, too?" the sheriff demanded, his tone rising. "A clue? No! We will not be doing any of that. Keep them down below, don't even open the cell."

"What about the ones in the stocks?"

It was a legitimate question, and the sheriff came to a stop in his tracks. He was silent for a minute, then turned, glaring at them both. "Get them back down to the cells. Now. I will not have the wretched beast running around making plans with them. And if you let any of them escape, I will personally have your head adorned on a spike in the market for everyone to see!"

Quickly they nodded, shuffling for the door in a hurried motion. The sheriff's voice stopped them again, and they waited with bated breath, fearing the worst, the fact that the man had changed his mind. It was known to happen. They watched, as the sheriff sat, holding up a finger.

"When you finish with that, I want this outlaw found. I want him brought back to me, I want him unharmed. Do you understand?"

His voice was lethal, and the meaning was clear. The guards nodded. Another close one. The sheriff waved his hand, excusing them, and without any hesitation they were through the door. The first of the guards sighed, turning to look at his companion.

"Next time, when I suggest we just leave, we should just leave."

"The sheriff would have found out sooner or later," the other defended, knowing that most of this was his fault. He hadn't expected the wiry man to be so strong. Even now, his jaw still ached. And that was while the man was bound.

"But we would have been long gone," the first argued. "Since we're still here, we better get the others inside."

"Poor brutes," the guard let out a sigh, following his companion. It was bad enough to work for the sheriff, but to be on the wrong side of him was even worse. The outlaws, Robin Hood's lot, were definitely on the wrong side. Now there was one running free. And that thought, worried him.


He grabbed the bowl that was thrust at him, cradling it against his chest with one hand as he held out the bandages in the other. They were taken, one a time, wound tightly against the wound and tied off. The man winced, but quietly thanked them as they withdrew. Much followed Eleri's lead, the woman kneeling next to another worker who was favoring his leg.

It had been like this. Much had felt it, rather than saw, as the walls trembled around him. He had sat in confusion, while the others were already scrambling about. Had it not been for Eleri dragging him along, Much would have most likely stayed where he had been.

All of them had made it without injury. Everyone in their lot was accounted for, Eleri grouping everyone together and leading them to their corner. There was no sign of Garner, or the other guards, but Eleri stated that was to be expected. And it was; for all the people that followed were other miners, some walking in unharmed, others limping, and a few being carried.

Much hadn't known about the stores. They were packed away in the back of the cave, a couple of barrels of stagnant water. There was some food, too, dried meat of some kind, but it was unappetizing and he paid little heed to it. There had been another crate, full of old clothes that were quickly converted to bandages and cloths. And the wounded were slowly tended to.

Eleri was not the only one who knew something about healing. Some of the other workers were doing similar motions as her, cleaning wounds, while others were collecting water for drinking. Much was scared, but he trusted Eleri, and did as she said.

The cloth was dipped into the bowl again, and used to clean another wound. The man beneath her hands groaned, and Much could see why. The open gash was large, to his midsection, and was bleeding heavily. Eleri took another swatch of cloth, and pressed it against the opening to try and staunch the bleeding, but she was shaking her head.

"You would think they would at least give us proper supplies to work with," she muttered.

"Maybe they're bringing them?" Much suggested, watching. He was drawn back to the memories of when Marian was hurt. She too had a wound like this, and it had been Djaq that had saved her. But Robin had gotten help…sort of. He had also brought trouble as well, unintentionally, that was. Quickly Much shook his head, clearing his mind of the memory.

"Doubtful," she shook her head. "The collapse happened up near the front. It'll be hours, more likely days, if not weeks, before we see anyone."

"Weeks?" Much couldn't believe it. "They can't do that…"

"They can do whatever they want," Eleri reminded him with a sharp glare. "We don't matter, remember?"

He scowled, "What about-" then paused as he lowered his voice, "What about Robin? He'll come."

She turned to him quickly, fury in her eyes, but it died a moment later, a softer expression enveloping her features. "It's not that I don't expect him to," her voice was quiet, "I mean…I'm sure if he had the chance…no one is allowed in the mines. Not until they think it is safe."

"Robin will find a way," Much answered after a moment of thought. He could see her think the idea over, and finally she nodded.

"Maybe he will. But even then, what would that do? He can't possibly know what's going on down here."

She had a point, he sighed. But he wasn't going to give up on Robin. He held out the bowl again at Eleri's request, watching as she tried to clean the wound again. The bleeding had subsided, but there was still a lot of dirt, and the cloth was saturated already with blood and grime. He hoped Robin would come soon. Even if he didn't bring the stuff that was needed, he could go back for them a second time. Robin would do that.

The rest of the wounded were tended to, but not everyone was saved. Several men and one woman were lost from their injuries, and several more were still missing, having not returned to the caves at all. Tired, and worn, Much sat down next to Eleri, holding a small cup of water, and a handful of the earlier food he had seen. It was hardly enough to fill his stomach, and the taste was more than questionable, but he was hungry and ate without complaint.

"We have to be careful with the water," Eleri warned him as he went back for another cup. "That's all we have until they come back."

Reluctantly he dumped the water back into the barrel, replacing the lid. Robin had told him the same once before, when they were back in Acre. They had only the water in their flasks after becoming separated from the rest of the men. It was surprising how little water was needed in order to keep going. But Much could also remember the discomfort it caused. At least it wasn't hot down here, he reasoned.

One by one the others fell asleep. He himself was exhausted, both from the work earlier, and the trials that had followed after. Not everyone was sleeping soundly; the wounded tossed and turned, groans filling the air. And to think they didn't have even wine to help battle the pain. Much knew that his life in the forest with the others had not been extravagant, but it was now starting to seem luxurious. If someone had been hurt, they always had the needed to be taken care of. There was always food, granted not a lot, especially during the winter season, and there was always plenty of water. Never before had he thought he would miss such trivial things. And he missed Robin.

He was certain the other would come somehow. And when he did, Much would be ready. He moved to his feet, stepping around the sleeping forms and making his way to the tunnel. It took only a short time now, for Much had gotten fairly good at navigating through it, and on the other side he found a place to place his torch. The flickering flame shot light off the cave around him as he sat, leaning against the wall.

There was no sign of Robin, and even though that was to be expected, it was still a little disappointing. How long would he take? Surely not too long…Much decided he would wait, folding his arms against his chest as he drew his knees up. He wasn't worried…Eleri would know where he was if she woke, and she would find her way here. There wasn't anything else he could do.

He wondered, too, why they could not just leave. But he remembered Eleri's words about the danger, and about the tunnels being closed off. Even if they did somehow make it there unharmed, surely there would be guards waiting. No…he supposed there never had been a chance to leave.

He must have drifted, the sounds waking him as he blinked in the fading light. The torch was still burning, but dwindling down as Much sat up, eyes searching the cave to determine the source of the sound. It was coming from above, and he smiled proudly at discovering he had been correct about his deduction. Robin dropped the last few feet, landing solidly on the ground. When the man saw him, he let out a sigh.

"I was hoping you'd be here," the man confessed, moving to set a bag on the floor.

"I knew you would come," Much explained with a smile. He was half tempted to go back and fetch Eleri, but decided it was probably better to just let her sleep.

"I brought these," Robin handed him a flask, continuing to dig into the bag. "I was just going to leave them here. I figured you would come eventually, and find them."

The water was cold, fresh, far better in comparison to what he had before as he drank greedily. He heard his master scoff, glancing to see Robin shaking his head. "Go easy, I couldn't bring a lot."

Much sat back down near him, as Robin took out something else. It was a satchel, wrapped tightly, containing a loaf of bread, a bit of fresh meat. Hungry he set into it, pushing guilty thoughts and feelings to the back of his mind. He would try and save some for Eleri, but he wasn't going to wait for her.

"You're not hurt?" Robin speculated, and Much shook his head as he shoved another piece of bread in his mouth. He finished chewing before he answered.

"Some of the others are," he glanced back to the bag, and could see some supplies there. But then he wondered, curiosity striking him now. "What will the others say? They'll want to know where this came from."

"I thought about that," Robin confessed, pulling out the swatches of cloths. Along with them there were some bottles, medicines and herbs that he couldn't recognize. Robin handed them to him with a sigh. "I took the liberty of borrowing those as well. They won't be missed; several the guards have already used some. Take what you need, use it all."

"And get rid of the evidence, you mean?"

Robin nodded, leaning back against the wall with a sigh. "I couldn't come with nothing. But I fear I didn't bring enough."

Guiltily Much looked down at the bread, seeing it was already half gone. Here he had feasted, when Eleri hadn't eaten anything, only sipped on a bit of water. Quickly he wrapped it back up, tucking it away. The rest would be for her. But the others would want some as well. He could share it with everyone, he supposed. Say he found it like that. They wouldn't ask too many questions, would they?

"I don't know what I'm doing here, Much," Robin confessed suddenly. His voice was withdrawn, almost regretful. Much stared at him, blinking. Wasn't it obvious? Robin had come to bring him food, and supplies. He had come to make sure he was okay.

"Master, I-"

"Am I doing the right thing?"

"Of course you are," Much answered quickly. "You're not like them, you don't want us to be here. You want to save us."

"But I don't know if I can," the man confessed quietly, turning to him.

"You're Robin Hood," Much told him quietly. "You'll find a way."

"It's easier said than done. Maybe I should have just taken you and left when I first came. Then neither of us would be here right now."

This, Much supposed, was true. But it didn't sound like the Robin he knew, to just leave others behind. Much would never advocate in staying here, but he had only agreed because he trusted Robin, and knew the man would somehow figure a way out of this all.

"Why didn't you?"

"I gave Eleri my word," Robin said simply. That sounded more like him. The man was silent, and then he laughed a little, prompting Much to frown.

"What?"

"You know she didn't mean what she said earlier."

"About what?"

"You know," Robin pressed. "She does care about you."

"Oh," Much turned away, realizing what he was talking about. "I know…she was just, upset. That's all."

He wasn't sure to what part he was agreeing with. Eleri had already apologized for what she had said, so that much he knew. But Much wondered if she really did care about him, or if it was simply because there wasn't much of a choice. Still he wondered, about what the future would bring. He cleared his voice, unsure of what to say.

"I was thinking, when we do get out of here…of what we'll do."

"Go back to Nottingham, of course," Robin was quick to answer.

"I know that," Much nodded, "I mean…about Eleri. She doesn't have a family; her husband was killed before she was brought here."

The man sighed. "That's one of the problems we have. Most of these people won't have anywhere to go."

"She could come back with us," Much offered.

"Much," Robin shook his head. "You can't do that."

"Why not?"

"It's too dangerous."

"But it's dangerous here," Much protested. "What difference would it be?"

"You can't rescue her from one prison to go to another. If we get out of this, then she could live anywhere, she could have a real life, with anyone."

"But I want her…I want her to have a life with me," he muttered quietly, blushing as he did so.

"Much," Robin let out a sigh. "You can't ask her to do that."

"But you've asked Marian."

"That is different."

"How?" His voice had grown hard now, determined to make a point.

"Marian knows of the risk," Robin explained.

"Eleri would too, if we explained it to her. She would want to help, she would. And she's good with medicine; she took care of me when I was sick."

"And if the sheriff or Gisborne caught her with us, she wouldn't be able to leave. She couldn't have a real life after that."

"Neither would Marian," he kept pressing. "Marian can leave whenever she wants to, but if she came to stay, like you want her to, she couldn't go back to the castle."

"Enough," Robin warned. "That isn't your concern. It is not the same."

"It is," he argued. "The only difference is that you would get Marian, and I would have no one."

"That is not true, and you know that."

"I know that you would agree to it, if it benefited you. But it doesn't, so you don't care."

He didn't wait for Robin to say something else. Frankly he didn't want to hear what the other man had to say. Robin wouldn't understand how he felt, Robin wouldn't care. The man hadn't thought twice about asking Marian to stay with them. But at the first mentioning of someone else, Robin had shot the idea down.


He waited to see if the man would return. But as time went by, Robin realized it was futile in hoping. He was angry, yes, but more hurt from the accusations. Didn't Much understand what he was trying to say?

It did seem unfair, from an outside perspective. But the truth was that Marian already knew about their cause, of what they were trying to do back in Nottinghamshire. Eleri was different, she had been confined to a cave for the last years of her life. How could she possibly know anything? And more importantly, why would she be willing to give up a chance at freedom for something she didn't understand?

Much would see that in time, he reasoned, pulling himself back up to the tunnels. He wound the length of rope with him, packing it away as he moved along the corridors. It was a risk in coming here, sneaking out after the others had gone to sleep. The guards were distracted by the entrance, having allowed him to slip through, and he was praying that fate would still be with him. How he would explain being down here when the restrictions were on he wasn't sure. Robin assumed he could attribute it to looking for survivors. It was plausible enough, and he was only risking himself.

His thoughts drifted back to Much, still angry and hurt at the man's accusations. Worse was the knowledge that he wouldn't ever be able to ask Marian to stay with him. He came to a pause, thinking over what the man had said. Would it be any different, he wondered, if Marian had stayed with them? Robin shook his head. It was ridiculous.

He moved to climb the ladder, gripping the rungs and pulling himself up, one step at a time. Near the top he paused, listening, and when all was silent, he made his way out. The night air greeted him, and he pulled off the outerwear he had on, breathing in deeply. It was a momentary relief, however.

New, pressing thoughts entered his mind. He could not afford to sneak back down there, not until the restrictions were lifted. That meant a delay in his plan, however feeble it was. Robin still desperately wanted to get to the water room, to see for himself what he had to work with. Now it would have to wait, he feared.

He came to a stop, nearly running into a figure. A hand went to his weapon, wondering if he had been seen. What was he to do if he had been spotted? Could he silence the person? Unlikely, it was better to confess, to try and cast doubt and suspicion away, rather than to try and think of a reason why someone had suddenly just disappeared. Even more so that this certain someone was Latimer, one of Alfred's right hands. He would be missed shortly.

"Out for a nightly stroll, I see," the man greeted him. Robin gave a shrug, feigning innocence, the best ploy he had at the moment.

"Couldn't sleep. Is that so unusual?"

"Perhaps not. But I'm not a particularly conversational person, so I won't elaborate. Alfred wishes to speak with you."

Robin nodded, pretending to think it over. "In the morning, I wouldn't want to wake him."

"No need. He's already awake. In fact, he requested that I made sure you came."

The man took a step back, motioning with his hand in invitation. Robin could feel his stomach twist into a knot, wondering if now was perhaps the best time to run. But if he ran…then he would leave Much behind. That was not something he could do. And maybe he was overreacting. Alfred had been speaking with several of the guards throughout the day. Perhaps the man simply wanted to hear what had transpired in the mines from everyone, in order to get an accurate story, so that the restrictions could be lifted.

This, he decided, could possibly be a good thing. But then again, he had been wrong before…

TBC