CHAPTER THIRTY

Getting all the tools and fabrics from Robin's old chateau unloaded and borne up to their camp proved to be a major endeavor, and the fox outlaw was glad to have so much assistance available. Since the final approach to the waterfall entrance consisted of a series of stepping stones in the water, a bucket brigade-style relay line was formed so that the items could be taken from the cart and passed along from one willing helper to the next. In this way, the task was completed in good time without overly tiring out any of the workers and without the awkwardness of any single laborer having to struggle with a heavy load whilst negotiating the stones in the stream or the climb up to the campsite.

Robin and Little John stood regarding the empty cart. "What to do about this?" the fox pondered aloud. "We can't leave it where it is by the stream's edge - that would be like a big sign advertising our presence. I suppose we could haul it off into the deep woods a mile or so from here, then cover it up with leaves and branches so that it won't be easily discovered. But a cart like that might come in very useful, and I'd hate to discard it if we don't have to ... "

"Say no more, Rob." The big bear went to the wheeled contraption and, gathering himself up for the effort, lifted the entire cart off the ground and over his head, balancing it upside-down upon his bent back with the wooden wheels sticking up into the air. "Move aside, comin' through! Make way, make way!"

Robin was long accustomed to displays of brute strength from his imposing but gentle companion, yet even he was struck speechless by the sight of Little John hopping from stone to stone toward the waterfall with the heavy cart braced against his wide back. In no time at all he'd disappeared behind the curtain of water, and Robin quickly followed to find his burly friend setting the cart upon the wet ground on the other side of the cascade.

"There y'go!" Little John proclaimed, scarcely winded from his exertions. "Now we've got it tucked away back here where nobody can see it from outside. Or we could rig up some ropes and pulleys to get it up to the camp if we need it there."

"This will be fine for now," Robin said with a smile. "That was very impressive, I must say. Reminds me why I've kept you around all these years."

"Oh? Funny - I thought I was the one keeping you around."

"Could be. Let's get up there and see what - "

The archer fox was interrupted by a scurrying figure that bounded into the hidden space behind the waterfall with such haste that it had to skid to a frantic stop to avoid crashing into the two outlaws.

Robin looked down at the panting rabbit. "Skippy! What's the matter?"

"We've got some more visitors on the way," the young scout forced out between gasps; he'd obviously just finished a long, hard run to deliver this news. "Coming along the same path that my family and the others took two days ago ... "

"More visitors, you say?" Robin echoed, then repeated the very question that Skippy's younger sibling had asked of him earlier that morning. "Friend or foe?"

"That's what I had to come ask you about," Skippy explained. "There may be some of both, and I didn't want to bring them here until someone older could come and see about it."

"That's good thinking. Where are they now?"

"Back by the branch in the path that leads to the thorn hedge, about a mile from here. Sissy and Barty are there, keeping an eye on them."

"How many are there?"

"A lot. More than the five families Sir Guy burned out of their homes."

Robin's eyebrow rose. "That many? What the devil is Gisbourne up to now that would send so many refugees into Sherwood?"

"If they are refugees, and not soldiers in disguise," said Little John. "Or reward-seekers, out to collect the bounty on your head."

"That's what we need to find out. Skippy, did you recognize anyone in this new group?"

"Well, Lady Florence is there ... "

"Flo?" Robin said in surprise.

"Must've made her escape from Castle Nottingham," Little John surmised. "Maybe Sir Guy was starting to tighten the screws too much for her liking."

"She said sumpthin' 'bout Sir Guy taking over the castle and banishing everyone who wasn't a soldier," Skippy told them. "A lot of the ones who are with her are other servants from the court."

Little John's disposition brightened. "Well, our Flo would never lead anyone here she didn't trust, so it must be all right ... "

Robin wasn't so quick to take cheer. "Except that Florence never knew where our camp was located. Someone else must be leading them."

"That might be Otto the blacksmith," said Skippy. "He's there too, along with a lot of Nottingham's other merchants and workers. Sir Guy's been closing all their shops and seizing all their property."

"That figures," Little John muttered.

"Sounds like things are really getting serious." Robin turned to Skippy. "Do any of our new visitors look like they could be Norman nobles, or are they all Saxon peasants?"

"All peasants, Robin sir, as far as I could tell. But like I said, I really can't be sure."

"Then you did right to run back here to get someone. Well, Little John, I'd say we need to go have a look at this situation."

"Gee, I was hoping for some shuteye and a good long lie down after being up all night, but I guess we gotta do what we gotta do ... "

"Let me go check in with Will and the others," Robin said, starting up the rocky slope toward the camp, "and then we'll be on our way."

00000000000

Will and Alan-a-Dale decided to accompany Robin to investigate the new batch of refuge-seekers, leaving Friar Tuck and Lady Kluck in charge of their camp.

They quickly determined that these sanctuary-seekers were more or less what they appeared to be, with nearly every one known to Robin personally, and trusted friends like Florence or Otto vouching for those few who weren't. Clearly, Robin's sympathizers here had been mindful about leading any undesirables to their protector's hidden camp, and had made certain that every villager among them was an honest soul.

His old squirrel cook strolled with Robin at the front of the large group as they headed along the path toward the waterfall. Will and Alan brought up the rear, staying to the forest undergrowth to keep an eye out for any pursuers. If no such trouble immediately presented itself, the trail could be swept clear of its revealing tracks just as before, but for now everyone's main concern was getting this new band of refugees to safety without enemy eyes spotting them.

Robin was aghast at the Earl's plight. "Arrested and in chains, you say?" he repeated after hearing out Florence's report. "I told Skippy I owed the Earl a big return favor for freeing him, but I'd say that favor just got bigger. Our noble friend took a huge risk helping Skip, and I was hoping he'd not be found out. Do you have any idea how Gisbourne discovered it was him?"

Florence shook her head. "Everything happened so fast. I was dead convinced that Sir Guy was determined to throw me in chains and torture me until I confessed to helping you get into the castle to go after KIng John. I don't know what I would have done if it had come to that, but there was no way for me to sneak out of the castle, not with the way Gisbourne's got that place locked up tight, day and night. I guess we were all so busy worrying about ourselves, we never imagined that any of the nobles might draw his wrath, especially not the Earl himself. That poor cat was under arrest before anyone had an inkling, and the next thing we knew, Gisbourne was throwing us all out of the castle - servants, nobles and all. Nobody but guards and soldiers have been allowed inside since. Gisbourne could very well have had the Earl hanged by now, for all anyone knows."

"I hope not," said Robin. "The way things are going, we'll be needing every friend and ally we can get, and an Earl is nothing to sneeze at."

"You thinking it's time to stage a prison break?" Little John inquired from Robin's other side.

"The idea is tempting ... " Robin glanced over his shoulder at the throng of peasants following him. "Just at the moment, however, we've got more immediate concerns. Several dozen of them, to be precise."

Otto the blacksmith also walked near the front of the group, just behind Robin. "Most of us're here 'cos Gisbourne's shut us down ... thrown us outta our homes an' shops, locked 'em up tight, an' seized all our goods an' wares. Half th' merchants an' crafters in Nottingham must've been turned out onto th' streets!"

"That's what I can't figure out," said Little John. "I can see Gisbourne coming down hard on anyone he thinks might be helping us, but Nottingham needs all its shops and merchants. The noble classes depend on their skills and labor as much as anyone. It just doesn't make sense."

Stephold the Innkeeper, walking with his wife alongside Otto, weighed in. "He's turned Castle Nottingham into a military garrison," the boar said, bouncing his longbow upon his shoulder, "and now he's looking to do th' same to all th' rest of Nottinghamshire. If you're a Saxon peasant, you're the enemy in his eyes, an' he wants to be rid of you!"

"Those Norman nobles he kicked out of the castle weren't Saxons or peasants," Florence pointed out, "and they're just as much exiles now as we are."

Stephold snorted. "Yah, 'cept that most of that highbrow crowd have got relations in other towns they can go live with. I don't happen to have an uncle with a manse in Doncaster or a cousin with a castle in Herefordshire. Do you?"

"Well, for now," Robin broke in, "we'll all be having cozy accommodations in a welcoming forest glade. But back to the matter of Nottingham. Little John's got a point: if Gisbourne shuts down the entire town, it hurts everyone, not just those he's trying to hurt. I can't see the nobles standing for that - not the ones he threw out of the castle, or any of the others who live in the vicinity. What's he trying to accomplish?"

"Maybe to get everyone so fed up with the situation that someone decides to turn you in for the reward after all." Little John turned to Florence. "There is still a reward out for Robin, isn't there, Flo?"

The squirrel cook nodded. "Thirty thousand pounds."

The fox nearly choked. "Thirty ... THOUSAND?! Do Gisbourne and the Sheriff even have that much in the castle treasury?"

"Probably not, but that's not stopping them from offering it anyway. Maybe they're counting on never having to award it, but I'm sure some folks must be mighty tempted by such a sum."

"Especially if they're locked out of their homes and kept from making any kind of living," said Little John. "Has Gisbourne started kicking the farmers off their lands too?"

"Nope," said Florence. "Even Gisbourne's got to eat, so he's not going to shut down the croplands. But he's got soldiers patrolling the fields and farms regularly, making sure nothing's harvested that doesn't go straight to the castle."

"Oh, that's rich," Little John scoffed.

"And devious," added Robin. "Control the food supply like that, and you get to decide who eats and who starves. He'll make sure his troops are well-fed, you can be sure of that."

"Maybe he's gonna send to London for replacement laborers to take over the closed shops?" wondered Little John. "Open them up again with imported help he can trust, just to keep himself in goods and services?"

"I doubt he'd bother," said Stephold. "Everything he's taking from the merchants is going right into the castle. I think he's planning on this being over long before he starts to run out of food, drink, or anything else."

"Then maybe time's on our side," Robin said. "If we can wait him out until his supplies run thin, he'll be the one who ends up with his back to the wall, not us."

"I'd not count on that," the displaced tavern boar grumbled. "That panther is ruthless. He started by taking over the castle, and now he's taking over Nottingham itself. If he gets the town firmly under his heel, his next step will be marching right into Sherwood Forest itself."

"I'm afraid our tusked friend may be right," Florence agreed. "I've gotten to see more of Gisbourne than anyone here, and he is sworn to kill you, Robin. It's almost like ... well, like a personal crusade to him."

"A crusade, eh? If the stories about him are true, he's got some experience with those." Robin cast his eyes forward, contemplating the situation. "We might not be able to take Nottingham back from him, and we certainly can't retake the castle, but if Sir Guy has it in mind to challenge us here in Sherwood, he'll find us ready for him!"

00000000000

The two guards stood nervously before Sir Guy in the Earl's chambers, which the panther had taken over for use as his personal command center. The haggard pair shuffled their paws against the rug, avoiding Gisbourne's gaze as much as they could. The Sheriff stood to one side of the room, more an observer than any real sort of authority figure in these proceedings.

"So," Gisbourne summarized, "Robin Hood and his overstuffed accomplice broke into his old home in the dead of night, overcame you in your sleep, restrained you both, and then ransacked the place of all its clothing and fabrics?"

"Um, looked like they took some tools too," one of the guards reminded Sir Guy.

"Oh, yes. Mustn't forget the tools. Those might come in especially useful to outlaws living on their own in the depths of the forest. But, weren't the two of you posted there precisely to prevent any such raid from happening?"

"But ... but ... they came in the middle of the night, when we was asleep!"

"Did you ever hear of shifts? One sleeps while the other keeps watch?"

"We ... we had the doors locked!"

"Well, that makes it all right then ... because an experienced thief like Robin Hood wouldn't possibly know how to pick a lock. You two are assigned kitchen duty, effective immediately. If you cannot safeguard an empty house, perhaps you will have better luck battling greasy pots and pans. Dismissed!"

The two chastised soldiers nearly fell over themselves in their haste to vacate the chamber and report to their new assignment, however humiliating it might be for them to be demoted to pot scrubbers.

Alone with just the Sheriff, Gisbourne strode over to the wall where the map of Nottingham and the surrounding countryside hung; he'd had it moved here from his original quarters after commandeering the Earl's living space for himself. "You know what this means, Sheriff, don't you?"

"Um ... "

"That residence and its contents had been confiscated and declared property of the crown. In the course of this latest thievery, Robin Hood committed an armed attack against the king's soldiers. That is no mere treason; that is an act of war. Well, if war is what he seeks, then I will not disappoint him. I am going to request an additional fivescore troops from London to bolster our forces here. Once I impress upon King John the gravity of the situation, he would not dare deny me my request. And then, my good Sheriff - " Gisbourne stabbed at the green expanse of woodlands on the map, an emphatic gesture that nearly tore the parchment, " - then we will march on Sherwood Forest, and root out this band of brigands once and for all, even if we have to burn down the entire forest around them to drive them out of hiding!"