CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Robin lounged on a stout branch in the sunshine, absently twiddling an arrow in his paw. "So, what do you want to do today?"

Little John lounged on an even stouter branch below, scratching sleepily at his ample belly. "I dunno. What do YOU wanna do?"

"Oh, I don't know... "

Bettina, sorting through her latest batch of stream-washed laundry, rolled her eyes at the juvenile patter of the two lazing outlaws. "I declare, ever since I moved out here t' live with you two, it's been like havin' two o' me own pups t' look after! So much for th' noble Robin o' Locksley I had th' pleasure o' servin' fer two years!"

"And life's been far improved with you in our midst, my fair Tina!" Robin laughed airily. "Two wayward outlaws such as we could not ask for a better mother!"

"Mother, you say? Well, now you've got another!"

All three of them turned and looked in surprise toward the waterfall entrance to their hidden enclave. Two familiar figures stood framed by the cave - a gray-furred fox garbed from neck to ankle in brilliant red with a plumed hat to match, and a matronly hen with a stuffed haversack slung over her shoulder.

Robin swung down from his perch - stepping on Little John's stomach in the process and eliciting a muffled "oomph!" from his larger companion - and sauntered forward to greet the two newcomers, beaming widely with arms spread. His attention went first to the hen. "Klucky! Where have you been keeping yourself?"

"Auch, I spent a spell with my sister down in Bedford, but it just wasn't for me, you ken? An' when King John's carriage came through there headin' south toward London, I knew it was time for me to head back north. Figured if you an' Little John were holed up out here in Sherwood again, you'd be needin' a decent seamstress t' make what few clothes you have last longer. Much rather live a fun outlaw's life with those I know an' trust than lead a stodgy existence in a humdrum town! Oh, hullo, Tina! You staying here too?"

Bettina stepped forward to embrace the hen after Robin was finished hugging her. "Indeed I am, Kluck. Me 'n' Robin caused a bit o' fuss in Castle Nottingham - that's what sent King John runnin' back to London, truth be told - so really ain't safe fer me t' be anywhere else these days."

Robin, meanwhile, stood gazing at the gray fox, paws on his hips. "Well, well well! If it isn't Will Scarlet! Now THERE'S a face I've not seen in ages! What brings you here, you little scamp?"

"Not so little as I used to be, cousin - and I'll test you on that anytime you care to prove it!" Will went into a mock fighting stance, throwing playful punches toward the older fox; laughing, Robin put up his arms as if to ward off blows from an opponent three times Will's size. "Now that you're on the wrong side of the law again, and there'll be no second pardon coming anytime soon, I thought I'd better get my gray tail here to be at your side, since we all know how helpless you are without me!"

"I've muddled through so far, although you are of course welcome to stay for as long as you like, Will. You'll find things haven't changed much here since you last dwelt with us. It's been, what, three years? Four?"

"Too long, however much it's been. Who can lead a drab and insufferably honest existence after serving in the band of England's most famous outlaw?"

Robin threw his arm around Will, escorting his younger cousin over to the table and benches where they could properly catch up on old times. "So, how's Auntie Sela?"

"Oh, Mum's fine. Told me to send you her best, after she gave up pleading with me to stay in my apprenticeship. There'll be plenty of time to pursue a cooper's trade when I'm old and gray... er, well, grayer, I mean. Adventure's for the young, and I mean to have my fill while I'm still fit enough to enjoy it!" He glanced around the camp. "Yup, just like the good old days. Are you three the only ones staying here nowadays?"

"We've got Friar Tuck and Alan-a-Dale in our party too, but since they've not been declared outlaws, they're free to come and go as they please. They're currently off in Nottingham and the surrounding towns, keeping an eye on what the Sheriff's up to and seeing what help they can drum up for us. I'm looking forward to their return - Tuck thinks about his stomach almost as much as Little John here, and always makes it a point to bring some tasty fare back with him."

"Alan-a-Dale, ye say?" Kluck questioned, a romantic gleam in her eye. "Ooch, I've been missin' him since before all this bad business started. Hope he comes back soon!"

"I imagine he'll be quite surprised to see you," Robin said with a knowing smile.

"Yeesh, that's an understatement," Little John added. "When he sees those amorous eyes of yours flashing his way, he's liable to run for the high hills!"

"Or mebbe we'll see how well that rooster really can fly!" Bettina put in with a laugh.

"Ooo, I'm not that bad! Am I?"

"I think our bachelorhood-minded feathered friend might say yes." Robin shifted his gaze to the bulging sack Kluck had deposited on the ground beside her bench. "And speaking of tasty fare, I don't suppose you've brought any of your own to tide us over until Tuck's return?"

"Just a few nibbles in my pockets, an' nae more than that. However, what I did bring I ken ye'll value more'n goodies for your gobs, if the state of your poor auld threads is any indication." Kluck plucked at Robin's green tunic with feathery fingers, revealing a split under one arm and numerous smaller rends throughout the garment.

"Ah, yes, that," the fox admitted somewhat self-consciously. "It's the only outfit I had the presence of mind to bring with me into exile, and it's seen a good bit of wear since then. Forest living can be rather strenuous, you know. But now that we've got a first-rate seamstress to call our own, we'll get those rips and tears tended to without delay!"

"Oh, that'll just be to start," Kluck said, reaching down to her sack and pulling the top open wide to reveal a veritable tailor's shop worth of fabrics piled within. "We'll soon have a few spares made up for both you an' Johnny 'ere. I made sure to bring several bolts of Lincoln green!"

"Several bolts, huh?" Will chuckled. "That ought to be enough for one of Little John's shirts!" Thinking fast, he ducked the playful paw swipe from the bear seated alongside him.

Robin regarded Kluck and Bettina. "So, now we have someone to make and mend our clothes, and someone to wash them. All we need is Flo back to do our cooking, and we'll be all set!"

"How is that dear treescamper of ours doin'?" Kluck inquired of her old squirrel friend.

"That's a tale or two in itself," Robin replied. "But I'll let Tina fill you in on all that. My cousin and I have a lot of catching up to do."

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While Bettina brought Kluck up to date on everything that had happened within Castle Nottingham - both in regard to Florence specifically and in more general terms about Robin's antics there - the three males retired to a shady knoll across the glade where they could laze in the cozy moss as they talked.

Will was incredulous as to Robin and Little John's relative inactivity since the king's retreat to London. "What? Not even a single robbery in all that time? That's hardly the outlaw of Sherwood Forest that I knew in the old days!"

"There hasn't really been any reason," Robin explained. "Sure, the Sheriff's raised the taxes, but the peasantry's getting along fine on barter... which keeps them supplied with everything they need, while denying that bully any new tax revenue from them, since you can't wring blood from a stone. He must be pulling his fur out in frustration by now! Word is, he's already raised enough for my reward and then some, but it's all just sitting there in the Nottingham treasury, since nobody who knows anything that might help him is willing to come forward."

"Nice," Will grinned. "But not very fun. And what if he starts turning the screws on our poor peasant friends when he realizes that taxes alone won't bring him your head? From what I hear, a lot of them ended up in debtor's prison the last time things got this bad."

"Until we freed them," said Robin. "But now that King John is back in London and legitimately on the throne, I doubt things will get to that point. I'm counting on the Earl to reign in the Sheriff a bit. Our good Earl didn't have much of a free paw in such matters two years ago, with Prince John staying at the castle and breathing down his neck, but the last thing he wants now is any kind of peasant uprising, or to see his dungeons full of innocent townsfolk. Unlike our enemies, he has a conscience, and he actually does care about his fellow creatures, even if he does tend to place his own comforts first."

"And if the Sheriff forces the issue with him?"

"The Sheriff may have the greater force of arms, but he's really quite clueless. He'd almost be a comical buffoon if it weren't for all the suffering he's caused over the years. And without the support of the other local nobles, he won't be able to muster the kind of support he needs to come down hard on the peasant folk. That's another reason I've held off on any thievery. Right now, the upper classes of Nottingham are the only ones left with gold to their name, and they're rather peeved at the Sheriff for taxing them more. If I start taking from them, some of their ire will shift to me, and then maybe they will back the Sheriff more forcefully. And anyway, if I were to give stolen gold to the poor, he'd just come and take it from them again. Things are hardly perfect at present, but at least they're bearable... um, no offense there, Little John... "

"None taken, Rob. I'm bearable all the time."

"Yes, you are. So, Will, I see no reason to risk making things worse by going back to robbing. Then again, if I hear that the Sheriff's begun jailing my friends again, well... then we'll just have to stage another jailbreak!"

Will perked up significantly at this. "Now that's more like it!"

"Don't be too eager about that prospect, my young friend. Remember, the only way we'll be driven to such drastic measures is if things get a lot worse. And I, for one, am hoping that they don't."

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Meanwhile, far away in another part of Sherwood Forest, a column of twenty royal guards led by an armed black panther paraded along the main road through those dense woodlands. The trailing soldiers glanced about nervously as they marched, knowing they were in the domain of the legendary fox outlaw, and kept their paws near their sword hilts or their arrows nocked to their bowstrings, half-expecting to be ambushed at any moment.

Sir Guy shared their expectations... but rather than hesitant dread, the battle adrenaline coursing through his veins had him spoiling for a fight. Nothing at that moment, or for the many moments preceding or to come, would have pleased him more than to have seen the green-clad archer appear to foolishly waylay their force. He had been dispatched to Nottingham to slay Robin Hood; if he could accomplish this task before he even linked up with with the Sheriff and the Earl, that would satisfy him beyond measure. He could turn right around on this very path, the bandit's severed head in his grasp, and tramp his way back to London to report his success to King John and present the gruesome trophy to the monarch. That would be the ultimate triumph.

"Why'd we hafta come this way?" he heard one of his troops grousing behind him. "Takin' th' long way around Nottingham 'n' comin' down from the north through these woods? We coulda gotten where we're headin' by now... "

"We came this way because our quarry is here," Gisbourne growled over his shoulder at the recalcitrant soldier. "This will be our first opportunity to engage this prince of beggars and thieves, and I will not pass that up. By all accounts, his band is still small, and will be no match for us. So stand ready, and be prepared for battle anywhere between here and Nottingham."

This exhortation did little to soothe the qualms of the uneasy squad as they wended their way through the alternating sun and shadows of the forest path. The captain of the royal troops - the one secretly assigned by King John to watch Gisbourne for any signs of betrayal, and to act upon such traitorous behavior with lethal action - now monitored the panther most closely. Why indeed had Sir Guy led them into the heart of Robin Hood's territory, when the more direct route to Nottingham could just as easily have been chosen? If Gisbourne did indeed plan to rendezvous with the outlaw, this might be the best time to do it, before the Sheriff's forces became a factor. Sir Guy would have to be watched very closely indeed.

A little further on, Gisbourne grew tired of the enemy who would not show himself. Drawing his sword, he stepped further out in front of his ranks and spun around in a full circle, bellowing at the top of his lungs, "Robin of Locksley, come out and show yourself! Sir Guy of Gisbourne would have a word with you!"

Thinking there could be but one reason Guisbourne would plead like this for Robin Hood to come to him, the captain decided his moment to act had come. This would mean returning to London with the primary task of capturing Hood left unfulfilled, but things would be far worse if this warrior were to succeed in uniting with the outlaw in common cause. Pulling his own dagger as unobtrusively as he could, he maneuvered between his troops and stalked toward the preoccupied panther...