XXXVI

A Break for Freedom

Tuck could not reenter the keep without proper reason. He lingered just outside, talking to passersby while keeping one eye trained on the keep. The two guards standing at opposite ends of the open gate didn't pay him any mind. They knew him only as a simple man of the cloth who attended to the people of Nottingham. Tuck bided his time until he saw a way in, but with every passing moment it grew darker as the sun set. He needed to speak to Shy before the night was out, she would need time to put her own plans into action.

"Sir Brennan!" Tuck called out, spying him crossing the grounds. The knight stopped, looking out at Tuck with a curious expression. Tuck began to stride forward speaking swiftly to the two guards, knocked out of their minor stupor at the friar's shout. "May I enter, good sirs? I have business with your captain."

"Let him through, I was expecting him," Brennan vouched, and by this order the guards did not give any protest.

Tuck thanked them and made his way through to Brennan who took him by the arm, leading him away from the entrance, "I thought you already left Nottingham? What are you doing back here so soon?"

"Urgent business, Brennan. It seems the time has come to stop all of these whispers. Sir Guy and Archer have returned with soldiers. They intend to march on this keep at dawn. Where is Shy, I must speak to her?"

"She is with Lady Isabella, but do not worry I can relay your message to her," Brennan said in a rush, his face visibly pale. "You are certain your men will be here tomorrow?"

"Positive."

"And you are confident you can hold Lord Foster?"

"We have the backing of the Lord Waleran of Warwick, is that not confidence enough?"

"Tuck, you must assure me that this will work, it is not only my life I will be risking if this does not come together. Foster is certain to make a connection which implicates Shy in this. He will have her killed, do you understand?"

"I am aware of that, we have all been acutely aware of the precarious situation you and Shy have been placed in. Does Shy have a plan to distract the guards?"

"I believe so, but she will not tell me of it which leads me to believe that whatever it is I will not like it in the least, and I doubt you would too."

"I do not have to like it so long as it works. I can't stay long, see that you alert Shy. I must get back to my own men."

Brennan nodded, shaking hands with Tuck. "Of course, go then, I will do my best to help as much as I can, I promised that much."

"You are a good man, and I wish you luck."

Brennan gave a scornful laugh, "Do you know there are days I wish I was a bloody despicable soul instead of a mere good man. Ah well, luck to both of us. Now go before you attract any more attention to yourself."

Brennan did not look to see if Tuck had left the keep before he ran off in the direction of the Sheriff's tent. He was already racing through a myriad of ways he could request for Shy's presence without spooking Lady Isabella into refusing. Luckily, Shy was sitting just outside the tent, folding sheets into a basket which sat at her side. When she saw Brennan bounding over to her she waved, a small smile on her face, but upon seeing the paleness of his face and the stern look in his eyes, the smile faded. She stood up, rubbing her hands upon the apron she had tied about her skirts.

"What is it?" She asked in a hushed tone, wary of how close they were to Isabella's tent and knowing full well how the sound of their conversation might carry.

Brennan signaled Shy further from the tent. He bent down and whispered in her ear. "Lord Waleran granted your friends' request. Lord Foster is to be arrested at dawn."

Shy fought for breath and she clutched Brennan's coat clasps. "He sent soldiers with him?"

"Tuck just told me. He needs you to distract the guards." Brennan placed a hand against Shy's back to steady her.

"Then Archer and Guy have returned to Nottingham?" She could not mask the happiness in her voice. "He's here?"

Brennan winced and fought for control, he tightened his hold around Shy. "Yes."

"Then I must go! I...no...no I can't, Isabella would notice I was missing...I have to stay with her until she is asleep. No matter, that is still plenty of time."

"What are you planning?"

"A small diversion for our hardworking guards," Shy snickered, "Brennan, bring wine to the barracks, barrels of it. And be sure to gather as many of the men as you can."

"Shy, what are you planning?"

"Don't fuss so!" Shy said, "It is under control."

"There is much about the sound of this plan that I do not like!"

"I promise I will be in no danger. The men will be so drunk they won't even be able to see straight, let alone think about harming me."

"Well you will be there as well, if anyone gets out of hand we can always knock them out. Brennan, while I'm with Isabella will you tell Lady Thea what is going to happen? I don't want her to be frightened if a fight breaks out."

"Lady Thea? Frightened? Now there's a sight I'd pay to see."

Shy laughed, "Brennan! Will you do this?"

"Yes, of course."

Shy blinked, realizing for the first time that she was locked in an embrace. "Brennan...you can let me go now."

"I don't think I can," Brennan said with a laugh of his own, hugging her tight, "I will never see you again after tomorrow," he whispered.

"Brennan..."

"And what am I going to do?" he said softly, kissing her cheek, "what am I going to do?" There seemed to be something else he wanted to say, but he could not find the words.

"You are going to carry on being the fine man I know you to be," Shy said, taking his head in her hands. "You will have other prospects aside from being a mere captain to a man so far beneath you, and there will be another woman for you to love...one far better than me."

"Shy, there is something I should tell you...something I should have told you for a long time."

"Brennan, can it wait?" Shy asked, "Can it wait until this is all over?"

Shy thought Brennan would object, but eventually the dejected man simply nodded his head. Shy squeezed his hand, "Thank you. And that's the most ridiculous thing you have ever said, thinking that you won't ever see me again! I won't allow that!"

Brennan sighed as she left him to hurry back to Isabella. "Believe me, Shy," he thought of what was still left unsaid between them, "you will never want to see me again...

Shy hurried back to the tent to begin the long wait in tedious obedience for Isabella to succumb to sleep. The sickly woman slept early in the evening, just as the sun sank fully into darkness. Shy helped her to her bed, and assured herself that she was fully asleep before she departed the tent for the night. As she stepped out onto the grounds she noted that there was a light in the door of the barracks by the keep's wooden battlements. Shy exhaled sharply, her breath fogging up around her. Her hand balled into a fist until she could feel the dull point of the scabbard tip of the dagger around her arm press into her wrist, assuring her that if anything did go wrong, she was not defenseless.

As Shy neared the barracks she could hear the sounds of rough conversation and bawdy laughter. It seemed Brennan had held up his end of the bargain in bringing in the barrels of wine. It was obvious the men had already tucked in with a will. Now it was her job to make sure the men staid in the barracks.

"My lords," Shy announced, sauntering into the room, "it seems I have been ignoring you all of late!"

Her bravado took everyone by surprise, but her pleasing swagger brought on a bought of roaring laughter from the men. She was tossed a tankard of her own. She filled it to the brim and then jumped up onto the table a few of the men were sitting at. She laughed and gulped down a mouthful of wine, letting some of the drink slosh out over the side to drip in sticky rivers down her chin and neck.

"Now, I'm in the mood for a little entertainment tonight, I'm sure you wouldn't want to disappoint me?" Shy pouted. The men all pledged they would never aim to disappoint her. Shy grinned.

There were jabs and whispers amongst the soldiers. It was not like Shy to be so obliging, usually she sat sullen in a corner and had to be dragged out. Was Lord Foster putting her up to this? Had he threatened to punish her in some way if she did not oblige the men for a night? And what had they done to deserve such a treat?

"A toast!" Shy cried, raising her tankard, "To you fine, good sirs. Your health!" Another mouthful of wine was gulped down. The cry was taken up and the men downed their tankards. Shy grinned around the rim of the cup as she watched a few of the men eagerly go to refill empty goblets and cubs. "And may all you bastards rot in the pits of hell," she whispered and took another drink for good measure. She looked over and saw Brennan standing in the far corner, his eyes were fixed on her and his hand was inches from his sword hilt. Shy gave him a small nod which was returned. It was going to be a long night.

Brennan took the morning watch at the gate, as the other men were far too intoxicated to properly guard anything. As the sun began to come up Brennan watched the street leading up to the keep for signs of troop movement. If Tuck's word had been true, he should expect to see soldiers marching up any time now.

He was not disappointed. Three men on horseback led a dozen or so men up to the keep. He recognized Tuck and the other outlaws marching with the soldiers, but the men on horseback were strangers to him, so when one of them unsheathed his sword Brennan was quick to hold up his hands in submission. "Steady on there, I've been expecting you lot."

"Guy, sheath your weapon!" Tuck called out, hurrying over to the man. "This is Sir Brennan, he's with us."

The man was reluctant to sheath his blade, but he did so under scrutiny of his two riding companions. "So, you are Sir Guy of Gisborne?" Brennan asked, "I've heard quite a lot about you."

Sir Guy sneered, "And likewise, Sir Brennan, I have heard all about you."

Brennan grinned up at the sullen looking man wishing he could knock the man right off his horse. Sir Guy was staring at him with equal malice. The tension was broken by Tuck's interference. "Where are the rest of Foster's men?"

"Probably off to sleep away the wine. I don't envy them the headache they'll have when they wake. Those that could manage are staggering about attending to their duties. I doubt you'll have much trouble with them," Brennan reported. As much as he hated to admit it, Shy's plan had worked.

"And Foster?"

"Still in his tent," Brennan extended his arm to signal them to follow him inside the keep. The three men dismounted and led their horses by the reigns, tying them off to posts near the wall.

There were a few of Foster's men alert enough to assume their duties, and while they stared bleary eyed at the small troop, they did not pay them too much heed, as Brennan was with them, and if this was their captain's business then it did not concern them unless they were ordered.

"What of Shy?" The question came from Gisborne.

Brennan had to speak through gritted teeth, "Shy went back to the Lady Isabella's tent sometime in the night. I could not follow her, as I had to make sure the men would be in no fit state to give you any problems."

Guy looked over at his two companions, clearly the other ringleaders of this operation. They both nodded and one of the men signaled to the soldiers. "Round up the guards and hold them for questioning."

"Guy and I will see to Lord Foster," the second man stated. "We meet back here when this is finished."

"What can I do?" Brennan asked.

"You? You can take Shy out of here. Meet us in the forest, Shy knows where our camp is."

Brennan nodded, enjoying the look of unease on Guy's face. He went to do as he was ordered.

Archer nudged his brother, "Don't look so sour, Gisborne," he said, "Work to be done."

The soldiers, led by Sir Gavin, were already away and capturing Foster's guards. The rest of the gang had gone with them, leaving Archer and Guy alone. The few tents which were reserved for the higher ranking soldiers, Isabella, and Foster and his wife were set to be explored, Archer and Guy being unaware of which one was Fosters.

Archer parted a tent flap with his sword, peering into the gloom. There was a small gasp of surprise from inside, "I think perhaps you are in the wrong tent, sir," chuckled a woman.

"Your pardon," Archer said.

"You'll be looking for my husband," Lady Thea remarked, sitting up on her pallet. She gestured to the left of her. "Go and arrest the devil!"

"With pleasure, my lady, sorry for the disturbance," Archer found himself grinning at the woman's reaction to his presence. He emerged from the tent and turned to Guy, tilted his head to the left, gesturing to the tent over. Quietly Guy unsheathed his sword and the two walked over.

Both men entered the tent this time, there was silence only broken by the heavy sound of a man sleeping. Guy stood looming over Lord Foster, he gripped the hilt of his sword. It would be so easy to run the man through where he slept. He kicked Foster roughly, jarring the man from his sleep with a muffled yelp of surprise and pain. "Get up," Guy growled.

"What...what is the meaning of this? Who are you?" Foster demanded, mind still foggy with sleep.

"I said get up!" Guy kicked at him again.

Dodging the kick, Foster rolled over and reached for his sword. He rose to his feet, pointing the blade at the two intruders. Archer merely shook his head, "You had best put that weapon down, my lord, lest someone gets hurt."

"What is it that you want? Money? I know who you are, you're Robin Hood's men."

"Correct, my lord, very good," Archer said, "but were not after your money. You have been charged with the crime of rape and the trading of Christian slaves. We are here to arrest you in the name of the King."

"What nonsense is this?" Lord Foster said, "I will see you arrested for the assault of a steward appointed by Prince John himself! Guards!"

"Oh, I think you'll find your men won't be coming," Guy said.

Foster lunged at the two men, brandishing his sword. Archer swung his blade up to meet Foster's strike and with a deft twist, disarmed the man. Guy landed a punch to Foster's jaw, dropping his sword to grab him by the collar of his shirt. "Beginning to see sense, Foster?" He punched him to the ground. "Recollecting anything?"

"You will be hanged for this," Foster spat blood at Guy, a hand over his bleeding mouth and nose.

"I doubt that very much," Archer pointed out, "what with the evidence we have willing to speak out against you."

Foster's eyes seemed to spin open wider, tunneling darker as the full weight of what the two men alluded to sunk in. He grappled for his sword, a curse on his lips for being taken in for a fool. "I will kill that conniving little bitch."

Guy landed another punch across Foster's face. "No," he hissed, punching him again and again, "you are never going to touch her again."

"Guy..." Archer warned, seeing Foster's head loll helplessly back as blood poured from his broken nose. "Guy!" Archer shouted, seeing that Guy had no intention of stopping the beatings even after the man lapsed into unconsciousness.

At the shout Guy lowered his bloodied fist, his eyes wild as he released the collar of Foster's shirt, allowing him to rest upon the ground. "It's over, Guy," Archer said calmly, "Shackle his hands together and bring him outside. Let's see how he likes being chained up this time."

Silently, Guy did as he was told, carrying the unconscious lord out of the tent and depositing him against the wall of the keep with the rest of the guards. Judging from the array of cuts and bruises decorating both Foster's soldiers as well as Gavin's troops there had been a minor scuffle, but no one had been seriously injured.

"That's it then?" Much piped up. "We just...cart 'em to Warwick for the trial and then on to London?"

"Aye," Archer nodded, sheathing his sword. "Altogether too easy for my taste."

Guy was looking about with a disturbed expression upon his face. He scanned the keep, but there was no sign of Shy or his sister. Shouldn't Brennan have been back by now?

It was then that Sir Brennan came running into the keep. Why had he left in the first place. He was panting and sweat dripped from his brow. "Shy is gone..." he breathed, "Lady Isabella as well. When I went to her tent I saw they were missing. I checked elsewhere, but then I noticed...the Lady Isabella's carriage was nowhere to be found. I should have noticed that! They're gone! They could have left anytime in the night. Shy could be well out of Nottingham by now!"

Guy's face turned as white as a sheet. He did not wait to hear the uproar of questions from the rest of the men. He ran for his horse, mounted it and went tearing off down the streets of Nottingham towards the main road leading away from the town and off into the forest.

"What...what is going on? Why would Sir Guy..."

Brennan's questions were cut off as Archer hurried for his own mount. Brennan followed, "Wait! What does all this mean?"

"It means we have all been played for fools and Shy is in far greater danger then you can possibly imagine. Best get your horse, Brennan. We're going to need all the help we can get." Archer kicked at his horse, urging him into a frenzied gallop. In mere moments, he was nothing but dust down the road.

A/N: I swear, I PROMISE that Guy and Shy will reunite soon. Like next chapter soon. ;) So stay tuned. Don't forget to leave a review!