CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Every resident of Castle Nottingham - practically the population of a small village - stood in the courtyard between the inner and outer walls. The staff knew to line up in orderly rows for presenting to Gisbourne and the Sheriff, but the nobles of the castle were far less accustomed to such things, and clumped together in whispering groups or milled aimlessly about, wondering why they had been called out here in such an inappropriate manner.

The castle soldiers, along with the ones Gisbourne had brought with him from London, stood upon the outer walltop and the inner castle ramparts and in the courtyard itself, but apart from the gathered servants and nobility, weapons at the ready.

"Listen up!" Gisbourne shouted to get everyone's attention. "Today I have discovered that the lord of this castle, the Earl of Nottingham himself, is a traitor to the crown who has enabled the escape of another traitor and makes no apology for such treasonous actions. Now, I don't know how many of you may also be traitors, and I don't care. I have your leader, and you'll be following his orders no more. From this moment henceforth, Castle Nottingham is a military garrison under martial law, and only military personnel will be allowed within its walls. All others are to vacate these premises at once. The castle guard will escort you out."

More than one face among the ranks of the staff showed relief; mere banishment was a welcome alternative to the more severe punishments some had feared. But for the privileged personages of the court, this was a slap in the face not to be tolerated. Duke Mowbray, a feisty woodchuck who prided himself on being one of the more outspoken of Nottingham's nobility, stepped forward to challenge this clearly preposterous mandate.

"I say, my good fellow, this is quite beyond the pale! My family have been landowners in this county for generations!"

"Good," said Gisbourne. "Then you'll have no problem finding somewhere to stay with one of your land-owning relations."

Mowbray twitched his thick mustache in righteous indignation. "Well, I for one refuse to be put out of my rightful home! I will not go!"

Gisbourne's stern gaze zeroed in on the woodchuck but then softened. "I am not an unreasonable person, Duke, so if you can persuade me why some accommodation should be made in your case, I will gladly hear you out. Come, let us go discuss your situation someplace privately."

The other nobles watched as Gisbourne, paw draped around the Duke's shoulders, accompanied the woodchuck up the wall steps to the ramparts for a confidential exchange of views. Every noble's eye was upon them with keen interest, for they knew that if Mowbray could finagle an exemption out of the panther, the rest of them might well be able to do so as well, and then none of them would have to leave the castle. It was probably all a bluff anyway, put on for the benefit of the staff. Things would not be easy, if all the staff were forced to leave, but somehow they would manage.

Then, before their very eyes, Gisbourne picked up Duke Mowbray and hurled him over the castle wall. The woodchuck's scream was briefly heard, immediately followed by a distant splash from the moat. Gisbourne calmly descended the stairs, casually brushing his paws together as if he'd just discharged an unseemly duty.

"Um, Sir Guy," the Sheriff ventured, "I ain't sure the Duke knows how t' swim ... "

"Then I hope he can hold his breath for a long, long time." Gisbourne stood in front of the remaining nobles. "Now, if anyone else here wants to follow the Duke over the wall, I'll be happy to oblige. Otherwise, the drawbridge is directly behind you."

Another of the nobles, the comely deer Lady Grantham, stepped forward, hoof daintily on her breast as she flashed her most alluring doe eyes. "Oh, my dear gallant knight, surely you would not make a poor lass walk out of her only home in such a manner?"

"I am nothing if not chivalrous," said Gisbourne. "If you do not wish to walk out of here, then I will be more than happy to carry you." The panther's eyes narrowed dangerously. "But leave you will ... one way or the other."

"Hmmph!" Lady Grantham sniffed, retreating into the group of nobles.

"Now, before you go, I've one last thing to say. If perchance any of you should happen to meet Robin Hood after leaving here, tell him that he can end this anytime he wants. All he has to do is surrender himself to me, and once justice is done, I will return to London, and all of you will be free to move back in here. Guards! Move them out! And make sure none remain behind!"

As the staff and nobility were herded across the drawbridge, the Sheriff came to stand at Gisbourne's side. "Are y' sure this's a good move, Sir Guy? Those'll be some mighty peeved nobles ... "

"If the Earl was helping Robin Hood, then any of them could have been too. Or all of them. I do not have the time nor the inclination to conduct a full-scale inquisition and purge of this court. Now that the Earl has been found out, the others have become irrelevant. We must simply make sure that any who are enemy sympathizers are not allowed to further frustrate our efforts from within, or pass valuable information on to the outlaws. Now we are free to move onto the next stage of our campaign."

"Um ... which is?"

"Starting tomorrow, I want to triple the number of soldiers we have patrolling Nottingham."

"Triple 'em? But, that'll leave hardly any fer protectin' th' castle here!"

"In case you haven't noticed, Sheriff, Robin Hood is not here inside the castle. He's out there somewhere, hiding from us. With me here and no risk of inside spies to aid him, I am confident we can hold this castle secure with a skeleton staff. It is time for us to project our forces beyond these walls ... and if the peasants think today was a disaster for them, let them continue to defy me!"

00000000000

"So, am I an outlaw now?"

Skippy sat with Robin and the rest of his band, enjoying a breakfast of fresh-baked hotcakes and mild honey ale. Between this delicious breakfast and the marvelous supper he'd been treated to last night, he was beginning to think he'd eat better here than he did at the castle.

"Well," Robin replied, dabbing at his chin to wipe away a smidgen of raspberry preserves, "if you escaped from Sir Guy's custody, you'll not be able to go back to Nottingham anytime soon, I'm afraid. So, yes, I suppose that does make you an outlaw."

Skippy mulled this over, then concluded, "Cool."

Little John chuckled. "Looks like our merry band's up to eight now."

Skippy mopped up the maple syrup residue from his plate with his finger. "If I'd known outlaws ate this well, I would've become one years ago!"

"As long as our friends and supporters in the villages can keep us supplied, we'll continue to eat well," said Robin. "Of course, our latest exploits in Nottingham have raised our profile a bit more than it was, which will make it harder to collect from those willing to give to us ... "

"Yeah," Skippy said. "It was all over the castle that Sir Guy's issued death warrants for Friar Tuck, and for you too, Lady Kluck. And he's really mad at you, Will. He doesn't even know who you are, but I think you made him angrier than anything!"

"Good for me!" the red-garbed fox beamed.

"Yeah, but now you can't be our 'secret weapon' anymore," Little John pointed out.

"Oh, I dunno. There are secret weapons, and then there are secret weapons! I don't think I've outlasted my usefulness in that department quite yet."

Robin regarded his cousin with amiable suspicion. "Just what are you cooking up now in that prematurely-gray head of yours, Will?"

"Oh, just some random notions banging around on the insides of my skull, Cuz. We'll see what comes of them when it comes."

Little John looked to their leader. "Y'know, Rob, Skip's brush with Gisbourne's got me a little worried. He wanted Skip to lead him to us here. Thing is, our newest recruit isn't the only one in Nottingham who knows where our camp is, and it's just a matter of time before Gisbourne figures that out. Next time, it might not just be one rabbit fugitive who shows up at our door, but an entire regiment of armed soldiers."

"Yes, that was a bit of a scare there yesterday, wasn't it? We all thought we might have been taken by surprise, and with only three able fighters among us, too."

"A-hem!" Kluck loudly cleared her throat.

"Okay, four with Klucky, who brandishes the meanest frying pan this side of Edinburgh. But four against a score, or twoscore, wouldn't be very good odds."

"Then we'll have to start setting up watches," Will declared. "It's as simple as that."

"Not quite that simple," Robin begged to differ. "What good will a lookout be if we don't see an approaching enemy until they're nearly upon us? We can't just set up sentries in our trees or right outside our camp. No, what we need are roving patrols, who can make regular sweeps through this entire part of Sherwood and intercept our adversaries before they get too close, or else get back here in time to warn us so we can evacuate camp before we're surrounded."

"Well, I'm all up for that," Alan-a-Dale said. "Thing is, are there really enough of us to make patrols like that work?"

"That's true," Friar Tuck seconded. "Even if all eight of us went out and left the camp empty, we'd still have a hard time covering all the forest paths leading through these woods ... "

"It's the paths leading from Nottingham we have to worry about most," said Robin. "Those who know how to get here only know one or two routes, so those are the ones we need to pay attention to. And I think we should start today. Will, how do you feel about burning off some of that breakfast with a nice long stroll?"

"Beautiful morning like this? How could I refuse?"

"Okay, you take the path that leads to the thorn hedge, and Little John and I will cover the one that leads to the waterfall entrance. The rest of you get the day off, until we can hammer out some kind of regular patrol rotation. Enjoy your leisure while you can!"

"Um, Cuz?" Will questioned. "Why cover the path to the thorn hedge? It's all overgrown, and no one can get in that way."

"It wasn't overgrown two years ago," said Robin, "and anyone Gisbourne interrogates who's been here before will remember how things were then, not how they are now. They couldn't know the hedge entrances have filled in, but that would still get Gisbourne far too close to us for our own good."

"Ah. I getcha. Now I remember why we put you in charge."

"Can I go too?" Skippy asked eagerly.

"Maybe tomorrow. For now, stay here with the others. Don't worry, we'll not waste those fast courier's legs of yours. Once we settle into a patrol routine, you'll be our secret weapon every bit as much as Will ever was!"

00000000000

"Sir Guy, we got a bit of a problem ... "

The panther stood in the courtyard, facing down the panting guard who'd just sprinted over the lowered drawbridge into the castle. This was the first morning of his new strategy, putting more troops on the ground in Nottingham while a smaller force remained behind here to safeguard their base of operations. Gisbourne hadn't expected trouble so soon.

"What is it? Are the nobles we expelled yesterday trying to raise an opposing force?"

"Uh, no, nothing like that, sir. It's the peasants wot got burned outta their homes yestermorn."

"Oh. That rabble. What kind of trouble have they started?"

"Um, none. That's th' thing - they ain't anywhere in Nottingham. It's like they just went an' vanished overnight!"

Gisbourne's brow furrowed. "You've checked all the surrounding neighborhoods, to make sure no one else took them in?"

"Aye, that we have. Word is - " and here the guard dropped his voice to a near whisper, as if invoking the supernatural, " - word is, they've all gone to Sherwood Forest to join up with Robin Hood."

"Soldier, why are you whispering? There's nobody else here but us."

"Um ... I dunno, Sir Guy."

"When did they leave? Was it this morning, or during the night?"

"No one seems to know. Coulda been yesterday, even."

Gisbourne rubbed one paw against the other, deep in thought. "Families, with ladyfolk and children, seeking sanctuary in the wilderness? They must place great stock in their outlaw hero indeed, if they imagine Robin Hood will be able to provide for all of them. Hmm ... wasn't one of those displaced households a turtle family?"

"Um ... yeah, I think so."

A savage smile lit Gisbourne's dark lips. "Then they can't be making very good time, can they?" With his paw on his sword hilt, the panther strode toward the drawbridge. "It may be too late, but we shall make of this what we can ... and maybe, with luck, these fools will lead us right to the last place they want us to be!"