Hostage Situation
Allan woke early, which was unusual for him. He lay in his bed for a short while, listening to the sounds of the forest around him and ruminating on his thoughts. He could hear somebody pottering about the camp quietly - probably Much, who never seemed to sleep in - while Little John snored lightly in the bed above him. The atmosphere in the camp was relaxed and cheerful after the successful events of the previous day, and he found himself in a better mood than he had been in a while.
The past few weeks had been difficult. After the initial high that came from escaping certain death at the hands of the Sheriff, taking to the forest as member of Robin's newly formed band of outlaws had been a novelty that had kept the thrill alive for a long while. Robin was a fearless fighter, and he lead the gang with a fiery enthusiasm that was contagious.
Only, in recent weeks, Allan's enthusiasm had begun to wane. And when Allan lost his passion for something, it often steered him straight into trouble.
Fortunately, he had managed to avoid said trouble on this occasion, and he had Roana to thank for that. The second chance that she had presented him with, along with the opportunity to redeem himself in his own eyes as well as in Robin's, had reawakened his zeal for Robin's cause. He realised now just what he would have lost if he had become Gisborne's spy, and he felt proud of himself for coming clean. He just hoped his renewed dedication lasted.
Yawning loudly, he pushed his blankets to the side and rolled sideways out of bed. He had discovered the hard way that sitting up before getting out of bed could be quite painful. Will might well be a superior craftsman but he had had very limited space to work with when creating frames for eight sleeping areas. While they were comfortable, they left very little room to manoeuvre, and often resulted in a bruised head.
Mind you, who was Allan to complain? Will's construction was a palace in comparison to the bare forest floor, which was where they had slept previously.
As expected, Much was awake and tending a fire, accompanied by Roana, who was looking tired and deliciously rumpled. Her mid-brown hair was loose and fell about her shoulders in tousled waves.
Allan cleared his throat and dragged his eyes away as he joined them. "Morning, all."
He wasn't quite sure where this attraction to her had come from, but it was like a seed that had engrained itself in his mind, blooming slowly and magnificently. He wasn't entirely sure, not being the most self-aware of characters, but there was a good chance that her presence had contributed greatly to his positive mood on waking.
Roana smiled at him, shyly, while Much stared in mock amazement.
"What?" Allan said, defensively.
"Are you okay?" Much asked, archly. "I mean, I don't think I've ever seen you awake so early."
"Shut up and make me some food," Allan replied, hotly. Roana laughed at them both, shaking her head.
Much sniffed. "You can have eggs or bacon. You're not having both."
"I'll have bacon, please," Roana piped up, keen to defuse the situation.
"You, my lady, can have both," Much said, graciously.
Allan gave him a push. "Preferential treatment, is it?"
Roana muffled another laugh. Seeing Djaq had risen and was beckoning to her, she stood and, completely unselfconsciously, stretched, raising her arms above her head and arching her back, before hurrying to join her.
Allan, for a brief moment, was captivated, until Much punched him on the shoulder.
"Ow! What was that for?"
Much smirked at him, raising his eyebrows. "You know what that was for."
Allan glared at him. "Nope. I'm clueless. Enlighten me."
Much nodded in Roana's direction, smugly, and pointed a bread roll at Allan. "You like her."
Allan had to give it to him - Much was a lot more perceptive than everybody gave him credit for. There was a surprisingly astute flicker of intelligence somewhere in that head, hidden well behind the inane chatter and the almost constant complaining. But there was no way Allan was going to admit that to him.
"What are you talking about?" He said, scornfully, before wrestling the bread roll out of Much's hands and taking a huge bite out of it.
There was the faintest of movement in the morning air and Robin appeared, striding into camp with a grim expression on his face. He was another one who never slept in; a trait that Allan would never understand.
Robin flung his bow to the side and came to stand by the fire, putting his hands on his hips.
"Gisborne and his guards are going to Locksley," he explained, quickly. "They are looking for the men we rescued from the castle, and their families."
At the sound of his voice, Will and Little John awoke and struggled out of bed. Djaq and Roana hurried back into camp, both looking worried.
Robin glanced at them all, one by one. "We need to keep an eye on the proceedings. Djaq and Roana, you stay here for now. The rest of you, with me."
The day was dry and bright as they set out for Locksley, yet there was still the sharp nip of early morning in the air. Allan pulled his cloak around himself, gratefully, and followed Robin as they headed for the village, keeping to the forest paths that hid them from sight. They had a veritable rabbit warren of secret walkways and tunnels throughout the woodland that helped them to pass by unseen, and were often only shared by greenwood fauna. This helped the outlaws to traverse the forest largely undetected, but also meant that it was advisable to watch where they were treading. Much was always stepping in deer scat, far too busy running his mouth to notice where he was putting his feet. Allan sniggered to himself at the thought.
They could hear the commotion from Locksley before they even reached the village, and Robin glanced back at the gang, briefly. "I guess Gisborne got here first," he said, wryly, before waving them after him as he darted through the back entrance to Tom Scarlocke's barn. From the open-plan frontage, they could view the proceedings in the village square discreetly, and it was a favourite spot for vigilance.
The commotion seemed to be coming from a small crowd that had gathered in the square, consisting of Gisborne and around seven guards, and a number of inhabitants. The Sheriff and William were on horseback, stood aside from the action like spectators, chatting amongst themselves.
Gisborne appeared to be questioning members of the community in his own inimitable way; by having his guards hold them in front of him with a sword to their throats while he interrogated them, forcefully.
"Where has Robin Hood taken Roger Whitlock, Sam Tharcher, and their families?"
His deep, throaty roar could be heard clearly across the village. From their vantage point, Allan hunkered down beside Robin.
"Can we take them?"
"Wait," Robin said, tensely. "Let's see what happens first. Nobody knows where Roger and Sam are. It just depends if Gisborne believes them or not."
"I don't know, my Lord," the villager he was questioning, a family man called Benjamin Chorley, answered desperately, held tight in the guards grasp. "They were gone this morning, I swear."
Gisborne gave an audible growl. "Do not lie to me!"
"I'm not lying, my Lord," Benjamin stammered, his face pale with terror. "I know nothing."
Gisborne made to grab him by the lapels but was interrupted by the Sheriff, who urged his white steed forward to join the crowd. All attention was suddenly on him.
"Put him down, Gisborne," Vaisey waved an imperious hand in his Master-at-Arm's direction. Guy shoved Benjamin away from him, and the villager and the guard who held him both tottered, unsteadily.
"We do not like liars," the Sheriff continued, enunciating each word clearly as if talking to imbeciles. "Somebody in this village knows where those men and their families have gone. If you do not tell us today," he wheeled his horse round to glare at them all. "We will... let you all go and say nothing more about it."
Bewildered looks were exchanged, and Vaisey laughed, cruelly.
"A clue: no," he said, self-satisfied. "If you do not tell us, you will be hung."
There were gasps from the surrounding villagers, and Benjamin's wife began to wail. Little John was furious and made to stand.
"Robin, we must stop this, now."
Robin placed a hand on his arm. "Wait. Let us see what happens."
John glared at him. "Someone will die."
"Not if I can help it," Robin replied, mildly.
Benjamin was desperately professing his innocence again while the guard continued to handle him roughly, but Vaisey cut him off, dismissively.
"Hang him, and anyone else who will not tell us the truth."
The outlaws looked at Robin, waiting for the order. In the village square, Guy and the guards had begun to construct a makeshift scaffold by tying a noose to a porch overhang. Benjamin was dragged over, struggling and begging for his life. His wife screamed in the crowd as she was held back from running to him by her neighbours.
"Come on," Robin hissed, and the gang followed him as he began to move closer to the village square, keeping low so as not to be seen. Reaching the overhang of the food store, he stopped, keeping to the shadows, and indicated to the others as he raised his bow and nocked an arrow into place.
Allan prepared his own bow and moved into position, covering Robin's left side with Will, while Little John and Much took the right.
As Benjamin was forced to stand on a bucket and the noose tightened around his neck, Robin took aim and released the arrow. It zipped through the air and severed the rope cleanly above Benjamin's head.
There were gasps and cheers from the villagers as the Sheriff swung round in the saddle and screamed, "Hood! Get him!"
The sight of the outlaws, armed and ready, stopped the guards in their tracks. Confident that he was protected by his men, Robin strode forward and leapt onto a grain bin to address the Sheriff and his entourage.
"Leave these people alone. They have no knowledge of the men who escaped from the castle yesterday. They can tell you nothing."
The Sheriff glowered at him. "Well, why don't you tell me then, Hood?"
Robin shrugged and smiled. "The men and the families have gone, and that is all I can say. You will have to find someone else to do your dirty work."
Vaisey had turned bright red with fury. "I don't think you understand, Locksley. I will kill a villager for every day that those men are not returned to me."
Silent up until that moment, Sir William suddenly kicked his mount into the centre of the square and shouted, "Where is Roana? You took my wife-to-be too!"
Robin laughed, unkindly, and pointed at William and Vaisey with his bow. "She is our hostage. She will stay with me until a time I see fit. If you harm anyone else in this village, or any others, then she dies."