CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Will Scarlet walked about a quarter of a mile out from the camp, then took to the branches above, where the thick spring greenery might help to hide even his red garments. Venturing from limb to limb and tree to tree, he made his way another half mile to where the path split, then settled himself in for a leisurely semi-nap high in a tall oak.
"This's the best spot for good coverage of the approaches this way," he said to himself, satisfied with his strategy. "I'll see anyone coming up this path long before they see me - likely hear them, too - and if they take the wrong fork that leads away from camp, then we don't have to worry about 'em anyway!" Lacing his paws behind his head, he stretched out on the wide limb to enjoy the day.
His respite did not last long. Just a few minutes into his restful lethargy, the distant murmuring of many voices reached his sharp ears. He sat up, senses attuned to the approaching group. Even before they came into sight, he could tell this was no military expedition; the chatter was too informal and haphazard, and the tone of the chorus, while indistinct at this distance, suggested that females or children - or possibly both - marched among these travelers.
Will maneuvered himself to a lower branch of a different tree directly overhanging the path, where he would be close enough to size them up more properly without betraying his presence.
The straggling parade of sorry journeyers that finally snaked into view was far larger than he'd expected. A somber mood hung over the ragtag procession, some unspoken grief that bound them all together. Will saw rabbits, moles, and several other species, including turtles, and all the others seemed to be keeping their pace slow for the benefit of the shelled reptiles. Scarcely anything that could be called a weapon was to be seen among their party - just a slow-winding river of downcast, anxious faces.
Deciding the time had come to reveal himself, Will dropped down from his perch to land nimbly in the path before the lead marchers. Those in the vanguard reared back at his sudden appearance. "You-you're not Robin Hood!" said the female rabbit closest to him.
"It's another bandit!" cried the wrinkled turtle beside her, half pulling his head into his carapace. "Don't waylay us! We've nothing to give you!"
"Do you really imagine Robin Hood would allow other bandits to prey upon good and decent folk here in his beloved woods?" Will said, doffing his cap and performing a deep bow to the townsfolk. "I am Will Scarlet, red by name and by dress, and Robin Hood happens to be my very own cousin. Now, unless my eyes deceive me, you all look to be in need of assistance. What brings you here to Sherwood?"
"Nothing good, Will Scarlet," the lady rabbit answered, her many children clustering around her, and she proceeded to describe Gisbourne's destructive rampage of the previous day.
Will's eyes widened in outrage at the tale of the panther's heartless behavior. "Well, that explains that mystery. We saw the smoke yesterday, and couldn't imagine what it might portend. I cannot believe anybeast would be so cruel as that!"
"Gisbourne is a cruel beast, if nothing else," the rabbit mother agreed. "But, Will, can you give me any news of my oldest son? If he escaped Sir Guy's clutches and did not come home, I can't think where else he might have gone other than to seek out Robin Hood."
"Never fear, my good lady, Skippy is safe with us. But first we must make sure Gisbourne and his soldiers didn't follow you here. This could all have been part of his plan to discover Robin's secret camp."
She put her paws to her lips. "We ... we never considered such a thing! We were so intent upon finding sanctuary with Robin Hood, it never occurred to us that it might be a trap! Oh, woe to us if we led that monster here to our only hope!"
"Don't despair just yet, but listen to me very carefully. Instead of taking this turn toward Robin's camp, you must keep going straight along the other branch. Go a little over half a mile until you reach the big egg-shaped rock in the middle of the path, then stop there and act like you're confused and lost and not sure where you are. That way, if Gisbourne is anywhere about, you'll not betray anything. I know you're all weary and eager to be off your feet, but we can't take any chances."
"I understand. And what will you do?"
"This little ruse will give me time to run back to camp and fetch help. Then we'll backtrack along this path to see if you're being followed. If no pursuit turns up right away, this should still turn out just fine."
"Oh, bless you, Will Scarlet!"
"Why? Did I sneeze?"
This witticism got several of the rabbit children laughing, and for the first time since losing her home, Mother Rabbit began to think things might be all right after all.
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Rather than trying to track down Robin and Little John, who could be anywhere along a wide stretch of Sherwood Forest by now, Will raced back to the camp. The others were surprised to see the gray fox standing there panting outside the cave.
"Will!" Friar Tuck said. "Is there trouble?"
"Don't think so, but can't be sure." Will's gaze flitted to Skippy for the briefest moment. He didn't want to make the boy distraught by revealing that his family had been burned out of their home; there was too much to be done now for that. "A group of travelers from Nottingham, seeking help from us. We have to make sure Gisbourne didn't follow them. Klucky, Alan, I think you're just what the healer ordered for this mission! Friar, Tina, Skippy, you sit tight here until you hear back from us. And if Robin and Little Johnny show up, let them know what's going on. They might want to come lend a paw."
With the two birds at his side, Will led the way back to the fork in the path. The townsfolk were nowhere to be seen, having gone ahead along the wrong path as instructed. "Now to see if there might be any wolves about," Will mused.
The trio backtracked along the Nottingham-bound path for the better part of a mile, keeping to the undergrowth to avoid any soldiers that might be following the refugees, but the way remained clear.
"I guess this is as good a place to start as any," Will assessed. "My feathery friends, it's time to put that plumage of yours to good use!"
Alan and Kluck bent down and began wiping out the villagers' tracks with their wings, obscuring the various pawprints and clawprints. Satisfied that they had the situation well in hand, Will ran back the way they'd come to rendezvous with the townsfolk.
He found them clustered around the giant rock orb, awaiting him just as told. It was a larger group than he'd first realized; the rabbits alone numbered over a dozen, and the entire assemblage must have been well over a score. "Okay, listen up!" Will said. "There doesn't seem to be anyone following you, so count your blessings over that. My friends are covering your tracks, going back about a mile before the fork in the path. It's up to us now to get to Robin Hood's camp without making any new tracks. Follow me, and I'll show you how. Stick close together now! We'll be leaving the paths and striking into deep woods, and I don't want to lose anyone!"
Will led them through bush and shrub and between thickets, over rocks and past brambles, and monitored them closely as they crossed a fallen log over a stream to make sure none of the little ones or oldsters fell in or got left behind. A short time later they came to a second lazy stream, and this time Will led them right into its knee-high coolness.
"We'll follow this creek for awhile, and by the time we reach the camp, not even a hound dog will be able to tell where we've gone!"
"I reckon that's right," agreed a hound dog in a floppy hat, leading his wife by the paw, who in turn led their children the same way in a string, one after the other. The water came up to the waists of the younger creatures, but they were in no danger of being swept away by the gentle currents.
"Well, one thing's for sure," Will said to himself as he waded at the head of their aquatic file. "I've certainly gotten my share of legwork in this day!"
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The reunion between Skippy and his family was a tearful one, but along with the tears of anger and sadness over the loss of their longtime homestead were also tears of relief that everyone was safe and reunited again. Mother, sons and daughters, brothers and sisters took turns hugging one another in the glade, wringing from the moment whatever joy was to be found in these dire circumstances.
For their part, Tuck and Bettina could see the wisdom in Will not telling Skippy his family was among the refugees; something like that was best left between loved ones. The badger and otter were also taken aback by the number of displaced townsfolk now crowding the camp. When Will had reported that he'd encountered a group of travelers seeking help, they hadn't imagined he meant nearly a score and a half, or that they'd been burned out of their homes and had nowhere else to go. Tuck knew most of them by name, having seen them in his church or delivered aid to them during troubled times of need. To see them in this plight tore at his heart.
"That blackhearted madbeast!" the former friar exploded, unable to contain his umbrage any longer. "Who does he think he is?! Not even King John would resort to burning down part of a town! Gisbourne is no knight, or I'm the Archbishop!"
Bettina sought to calm her friend with a flipper on Tuck's shoulder. "Easy now. These folks have been through a lot, and what they need now is comfort and reassuring, not more grief, however well-intentioned."
"And what Gisbourne needs is a good tail-kicking," Will put in. "I'm sorry, Tina, but Tuck's got every reason to be outraged over this. We all do. I can't imagine how Rob's gonna take it when he gets back."
"Where're Alan and Kluck?" the otter laundress asked.
"Doing a little road repair. If they do a thorough job of it, I doubt we'll see them much before dusk ... and I doubt we'll see Gisbourne and his goons anywhere within a mile of this place, even with his best trackers."
"Well, I should certainly hope not," said Tuck. "I'd hate to think of him despoiling this fair wood with his presence - not to mention that seeing that smug, arrogant face of his outside our camp would be our worst nightmare made real."
"Hey, enough of that kind of talk!" Will cautioned. "These folks have been through enough without you bringing up any more nightmares. But I will stake my claim on Gisbourne now. If he comes within shooting range of this camp, I'll be the one to part his scalp with an arrow. Robin and Little John will just have to settle for the leftovers!"
This display of bravado was just what the exiles from Nottingham needed to hear. Everyone within earshot of Will cheered and applauded the gray fox's boast, glad to have found such a champion and protector.
It was then that their true champion and protector strode into camp through the waterfall cave. "Throwing a party without me?" Robin asked, then did a double take as he realized there were several times as many people in the glade as there should have been, including many children. "Hullo, what's all this?"
"Must be tourist season," Little John quipped from over the fox's shoulder. "Didn't know we'd become such a popular destination."
Robin looked to Will. "We didn't see a blasted soul out on the forest paths all day, and here you've rounded up a whole season's worth! I assume there's a story behind all of this ... "
"Indeed there is," Will replied, and quickly filled Robin in on recent events. The archer fox's face grew both aggrieved and dark at the news of Gisbourne's latest atrocity.
"Now he's gone too far! We've got to stop him before he hurts anyone else!"
"We'd need an army to go up against his army," said Little John, looking around the crowded clearing, "and all I see here is a bunch of vanquished, goodhearted folks who've got nowhere else to go and need our help."
"We don't need an army," Will Scarlet scoffed. "All we need is one arrow right in the middle of his fuzzy black forehead ... and we've got just the archer to put it there!" he added, patting Robin on the shoulder.
The green-clad outlaw gently removed his cousin's paw from his shoulder, his face somber. "I tried assassination once already, Will, and found it's not my style. I'll not do any such thing unless it's in the heat of battle, or to save the life of someone Gisbourne's threatening."
"With all due respect, he's done more than threaten us already." The hound in the floppy hat came forward. "An' what yer big friend said is true 'nuff, Robin Hood sir. We're not soldiers or fighters, just simple family types. Our homes're all gone, along with most of our clothes, food, furnishings, our children's toys, keepsakes an' mementos, an' all our other worldly possessions. When that fire swept through our neighborhood, we hadta run fer our lives, an' didn't have time t' save much t'all. Gisbourne coulda had his guards help, but he was just sitting back enjoying th' whole thing. We need a place t' stay, an' if it ain't gonna be here, I don't know where it'll be."
Skippy stepped up to the hound's side. "You've gotta let 'em stay, Mr. Robin! My Mum and brothers and sisters have nowhere else to go!"
"Of course you're more than welcome to stay, all of you, for as long as you like," Robin said. "I can't promise you all the comforts of home. We're not really set up for families here. And we're certainly not set up for so many new arrivals at once. But we can make the room, and if you're willing to put up with our simple amenities, you'll not want for fellowship and good cheer, because that we can offer you, and in abundance!"
New cheers arose, and it was clear at once that nobody there had any reservations at all about accepting Robin's conditions. He glanced up at the big bear. "Looks like things just got a lot more crowded around here!"
"Yeah," Little John agreed. "But at least it'll be a happy kind of crowding!"
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Gisbourne's patience was fading along with the daylight.
Picking up the tracks of such a large group heading out from Nottingham into Sherwood Forest proved to be child's play, and it was obvious that these unskilled peasants had made no effort whatsoever to hide the traces of their passage. Sir Guy found himself struggling to keep a smile from his face as he headed his twoscore troops along the winding forest paths; these fools were going to lead him straight to Robin Hood without even realizing it!
That all changed around sundown, when the tracks of the refugees suddenly disappeared, right in the middle of the woodlands. Signs of brushstrokes showed that the tracks had been deliberately and methodically obliterated ... but by whom? That was the question.
Gisbourne led his squad of executioners another half mile along the trail to see if the tracks might resume, but they never did. Along the way they passed numerous branch-offs from the main path, some quite obvious and others little more than the faintest hints of footpaths, mostly overgrown with grass and underbrush, but none showed any sign that the refugees had fled that way. The central path also passed through several glades and clearings and one rocky grotto where it all but disappeared for many yards before reemerging from the other side.
"Pah!" Gisbourne snorted. "They could have gone anywhere from here!"
His soldiers had nothing to add to this observation; without Gisbourne as their guide, they would have been lost already.
The panther stood in the day's dying light, mulling over the situation. Why had the townsfolk waited until they were so far into the forest before wiping their tracks? The possibility could not be dismissed that right from the start they'd counted on being followed, and had knowingly led their pursuers astray ... in which case the outlaw encampment could lie many miles from this spot, in an altogether different part of Sherwood Forest. Then there was the possibility that they'd encountered some of Robin Hood's band during their travels, and that the bandit fox and his helpers had been the ones who'd wiped out the tracks. If that were true, then the outlaw hideout might have been a mere stone's throw from where the tracks first disappeared ... or it might not be.
This could even have been a diversion to draw Gisbourne away from Nottingham so that Robin Hood could embark upon some other mischief there. Sir Guy had gone from street to street to round up enough troops for this expedition, and that had left the town and castle severely underguarded these past few hours. If the outlaw had snuck in while Gisbourne was sneaking out, he could have robbed half of Nottinghamshire by now, right under the Sheriff's nose.
Another possibility was that this was all a ploy to lead him into an ambush. As much as Gisbourne prided himself on his tracking skills, the simple truth was that these were Robin Hood's woods, and the fox knew every tree and trail better than Sir Guy ever would. An archer of such skill, especially with other decent shooters helping him, could snipe at Gisbourne's column from the safety of the greenery, picking off the soldiers one or two at a time and then fading back into the forest.
Tempted as he was to set up camp here and resume the search come morning, scouring the forest and beating the bushes for a mile in every direction, Gisbourne decided that in this case at least, discretion was the better part of valor. If Robin Hood's band was already involved in this - a good bet, considering how completely the tracks had been erased - then Sir Guy's detachment could very well come under attack during the night, over and over again, with or without watches posted. Even with his superb feline night vision, Gisbourne did not relish a nighttime geurilla engagement in unfamiliar terrain where the enemy held every advantage except numbers. He'd seen enough of such action during the Crusades, and he knew how badly such engagements usually ended for the visiting force.
"We will not find them now," the panther announced to his soldiers. "We are heading back to Nottingham."
Any disgruntlement the troops might have felt about facing yet another long march after being on their feet for so long was outweighed by their relief at hearing the retreat ordered. Some had tangled with Robin Hood in his earlier outlaw days, and like Gisbourne, they did not relish the prospect of remaining in Sherwood Forest after dark.
Gisbourne stared into the deepening forest shadows around them. "Not today, Robin Hood," he muttered to himself. "Not today, but soon."