Chapter Nine

Nottingham

She should not have told him yet. She should have waited for a better time. Now as she lay in her bunk flat on her back, wide awake and listening to the men snoring around her, she found herself swallowing a lump in her throat. Will wasn't asleep either, she could hear him rolling restlessly in the bunk above her. What else could she have expected? She'd just sprung a whole, drastic change on him, of course he would need time to get his head around it. Perhaps by then, she too would have accepted it, but now the last thing she wanted to think about was the tiny thing beginning to grow in her womb. She'd protested how many times to how many offers of marriage back in Palestine? She was twenty-six, even by English standards she was much older than most women when they married, even Marian, who was only a year older than Will, was considered unusually old to still be unwed.
It wasn't that she did not want that life at all. She did, with Will but not this way. Not as a fugitive and an immigrant, living in the forest and running from the law. Djaq groaned quietly and ran her hands over her face, wiping away an unshed tear from her eye. They'd likely already be married if they had stayed with Bassam, and perhaps she should have insisted upon it. Then perhaps they both might have been happier about this.

In her heart she knew he would be alright when he got it into his head. Will was a born family man. He was fiercely protective and loyal of all of them, not only Djaq. They had all seen the way he quite literally leapt to Little John's side in his darkest moments upon that night that had changed them all, cradling the hysterical giant as though their roles were reversed and it were Will and not John himself that was the father figure amongst them.

"John, stop it! Stop that!"

"It's a good day to die! Let me go! I want to die. Let. Me. Die!"

"Robin! What do we do?!"

"Great, that's one who hates himself, two who are in love with each other and then there's bloody old dependable Much."

"Much, not now!" Tears sprang unbidden to Djaq's eyes, now no longer ones of joy that Will returned her feelings, as they all stopped and stared at John, trying desperately to push their barricade out of the way and rush headlong into a suicidal fight. He was so silent and strong that sometimes they forgot that he was a man who had lost so much and never complained, no one checked on Little John because Little John never seemed to need checking on.

His strength seemed to have failed him now in his hysteria. That cart would have moved without a problem if John had been in a fit mental state but now he collapsed, loud cries wracking his body, into Will's arms who had flown to his side.

"Just leave me! There is no point without my son! There is no point without my wife!"

"And you definitely won't see him again if you charge out there alone."

"John. John! Look at me. Look. At. Me." Robin insisted, clasping John's shoulder firmly, making him lift his head from Will's shoulder long enough to make eye contact. "Your son knows you, he loves you! You have your family right here, do not forget that."

}}}-l

A loud, garbled shout came from across the makeshift cabin and Djaq propped herself up on her elbows and quickly glanced over. Robin once again had begun to shout in his sleep, one arm thrashing around so much he was close to throwing himself off of his bunk.
"Marian!"

A sharp pang of sorrow and pity shot through her and immediately she rose up. Much was beginning to shift in his hammock but Allan still snored soundly as she made her way between them and over to Robin. Catching his arm which seemed to be flailing an invisible sword, she gently, and with a grunt of effort managed to roll the man back over onto his side. Silver tear trails glistened on his face. She hadn't the heart to tell their leader that he still cried in his sleep.
"Master?" Much had woken, scrambling in alarm to get out of his hammock, his instincts to protect Robin from years in the Holy Land seemingly kicking back into gear.

Djaq shushed him as John rolled over on the lower bunk with an enormous bearlike snore. Never had she wished more than she were already asleep. If anyone was awake later than Little John, it was a battle for sleep. "Go back to sleep, Much, he will be fine."

"No chance of that." Much groaned, falling back in his swinging bed and pulling his cap down over his eyes.

Her eyes having already adjusted to the dark, and navigating by the streams of moonlight that shone through the ceiling of leaves and mesh, Djaq fumbled in their natural cold storage for the sleeping draught she kept readily made for exactly this purpose. Dipping a cloth into the cup she carefully dabbed it over Robin's forehead and held it under his nose until he naturally breathed it in. Looking at the mess of a man, whose spirit was forever darkened by what had happened in the Holy Land, Djaq suddenly felt lucky. Frankly it was a wonder that Robin had not shot Gisborne already, he'd had so many chances to do so, he could kill a man at a hundred yards if he desired.

Robin had been right on the ship. She and Will were incredibly lucky that they had not lost each other the morning after they found each other, they were all supposed to be dead. If Allan had not returned at exactly the right time, they all would be. Then the desert should have killed them but by God's grace it had not. So many times over they could have lost each other, one wrong move in a duel and they were gone. The gang would undoubtedly all give their lives for each other, but it was Marian who had lost hers in the end. It was Robin whose heart was left irreparably broken. How difficult it must be for Robin to see them happy together when he could not have the same. Only a fool could think anyone would ever replace Marian to him. Djaq stepped away and returned the sleeping draught to its place, running a tired hand over her own face as she returned to her bed.

"Djaq." Will's soft voice stopped her before she lay back down and she straightened and met her beloved's eyes level with her own. There was so much there, even in the darkness she could see him wrestling within himself.

"I know." She said when he did not speak further and reached up to place a hand on his cheek, wisps of messy deep brown hair tangling in her fingers until she pulled away.

}}}-l

"Dan! Stop!" Robin hissed as the gang spread out and moved in the shadows between the stalls trying to get close enough to stop Dan Scarlett from speaking out, and still remain unseen by the Sheriff who stood there, his sick grin twisting into one of displeasure as Dan argued.

"This isn't the pestilence! That's not what she's got!"

"Shut up!" The Sheriff shouted, and Djaq's heart began to race as she saw the soldiers moving amongst the crowd towards Will's father. She ducked beneath a banner and reached out a hand wildly to grab at the former carpenter's cloak as he passed. She missed, and the thin fabric slipped between her fingers.

"I've shut up for you once before, Sheriff!"

"Dan!"

But Dan was not listening, he paid no heed to the frantic outlaws trying to reach him in time. The last, tense conversation Will had had with his father had cut too deep for him to stop.
"It cost me my wife, my hand and the respect of my son, so I'm not shutting up anymore. Now why are you saying it's the pestila-"

The collective gasp that ran through the whole township, interspersed with a few screams, was deafening, and the dying scream of Dan Scarlett carried high above it all for a few, pitifully short seconds. And then Will was lunging forward and screaming so loudly it sounded like he had been stabbed too. Allan rushed past Djaq and in haste she followed, running towards the grief stricken outlaw of their company who had just become an orphan.

"Will! You can't go up there!"

"I'm gonna kill him! I'm gonna kill him!"

The crazed look on Will's face was terrifying to witness as he clawed at the back of Little John's coat while it took the combined efforts of John, Robin, Much and Allan all to keep him from flying towards the Sheriff in blind fury.

"It's suicide, Will!" Allan shouted. Barricades were already being carried through the streets, soldiers looking for anyone else that dared protesting, they were far too outnumbered for justice to be taken.

"I don't care!"

"Will!" Djaq cried, throwing out her hands to him and somehow he seemed to respond to her. He turned just enough, tearing his wide, shocked green eyes away from the Sheriff who was retreating behind his portcullis, and to her. She flattened her palm over his heart, and found it beating so wildly it felt like it might leap out of his chest. Holding his eyes steadily and unblinking she silently shook her head at him. It was like calming a terrified animal. The fight seemed to fly out of him so suddenly at her touch that the men let him go, releasing him into Djaq's apparently effective charge as Robin hurried out instructions.
Will looked so young, so terribly boyish, his jaw quivered as he held her eyes and then suddenly, not unlike a rabbit, his gaze flew past her. He pushed her away and she turned to watch as he barrelled over to Luke, who stood silently crying and staring at the puddle of blood that was all that was left of their father, and took him into his arms.

Her heart shattered for them and she wanted to reach out to Will more than ever. But there was work to be done, a sickness that needed tending to and the people of Pitt Street could not wait or they would starve behind the barricades. She listened to Robin, her eyes torn between the plan they formulated and the grieving brothers. A softness, a heartache even that was new and different came over her as she looked at Will. Though his eyes were rimmed with red, he'd not shed one tear yet and there was something unnerving about that. Young Luke had dissolved into sobs and Will just sat there, rocking his brother and staring into the distance with a frightening expression that she'd never seen before on his face.

"We need to move! Go!"

"Of course…" Djaq tore her gaze away and focused again on the task at hand. Pitt Street, little Jess, they had to be the priority now. There would be time later to comfort them and honour Dan Scarlett. John followed behind, herding Will and his younger brother in the right direction as they ran to beat the barricades to Pitt Street.

"What are you doing?! Will!" Djaq realised too late what he was doing, had taken the holding the open door as chivalry which ordinarily it would have been. But then the door slammed shut and a key turned in the lock. She ran back and slammed the door with her palm, the antidote to the poison still in her left hand. "Will! The sick are getting better!"

"My dad isn't getting better!"

The grief mad man on the other side of the door was no longer the gentle Will Scarlett they knew and Djaq's heart sank through her boots. He had already done it, he must have done it or he wouldn't have locked her and the antidote away.

"Will! Don't do this!" She kept shouting, pounding on the inside of the armory door with her fists in vain that someone would hear her. But he'd run off already driven by only vengeance now. She understood that. She knew what revenge felt like, and she knew it never gave peace. But she could not tell him, she could not reason with him now.
If the Sheriff died now, as he must be knocking on death's door if Will had indeed poisoned him already, then Nottingham would be razed to the ground, and Will would never forgive himself, she knew him well enough to know that so much guilt would destroy him.

Screaming in frustrated Arabic she kicked on the door, which did nothing but stub her toe painfully.

Five minutes past, then ten and then twenty and Djaq lost count. She'd tried to lever through the lock with the tip of her sword, tried to bash it in with a heavy helmet but to no avail. Ironically, it was Will who was the lockpicking expert among them.

Finally, a sound of hurried footsteps outside made her leap up from her seated position on the floor.

"You locked her up?!" That was Allan's angry voice, and suddenly the lock clicked and the door swung open. "What the bloody hell were you thinking?"

The Will that stood there was completely different to the one who had appeared all but dead inside when he threw her in. His cheeks were streaked with tears and his eyes, every bit as wide, were glistening with fear all of a sudden and not madness. A good portion of Djaq wanted to punch him in the face for locking her in but his jaw was shaking with an unsaid apology and yelling at him could wait.

"Robin drank the poison to snap him out of it! Hurry!" Much shouted, and then they were all sprinting off down the corridor.

}}}-l

"I'm not being funny but, what is the point of a bejeweled skull? This is...creepy…" Allan pulled a face, spinning the ruby encrusted skull that had been gifted to the Sheriff around in his fingers. "What do we even do with this?"

"Pry the rubies off it, sell them off and donate the coin." Robin answered, in the midst of strapping his quiver to his back "Extra watches today. The Sheriff will be out for blood. Have you armed the traps, Will?"

"First thing this mornin' when I checked the stores. They're real low, Robin, there's no way we can make all the drops."

"Right...then two of you need to go to Nottingham, get what flour and bread you can and take care of the handouts there."

"I'll go." Allan raised his hand, tossing the ornamented skull back into the hideaway beneath the floor that Much was busy sorting into piles.

Djaq seized the chance and nodded too, "I will go too." She rose from her seat on a stool and fetched her hooded cloak, although part of her was loath to leave their warm camp and make the trek to Nottingham.

"Are you kidding? Sheriff will have everyone looking for you." Will objected, much to Djaq's chagrin and she shot him a sideways look. "It's not even been twelve hours."

"No more than he shall be looking for the rest of us." She defended, subconsciously tugging on her tunic as if it would hide the belly that wasn't even there yet. She would have to adjust her clothing before long if she expected to be able to hide this from the rest of them. They might be men, and largely ignorant about how a woman's body worked but they were not stupid. "I will go to Nottingham."

"Good. Will and I shall go to Nettlestone first and see what we can stretch. Much and John, finish going through last night's haul and check the animal traps. I want everyone back here as close to noon as you can. We'll have some wealthy returning travellers today."

}}}-l

"So, care to share why you can cut the tension in the air with a knife?"

"I do not know what you mean, Allan."

"You and lover boy, trouble in paradise? Wouldn't have anything to do with your throwing up every meal would it?"

Djaq rolled her eyes and paused to punch Allan in the shoulder, which only made him chuckle.
"There is nothing the matter, and nor is that any business of yours."

"I find that's the thing with living with your mates, everything is everyone's business. Come on, you went for a walk last night and by the time you came back Will could barely say two words to anyone."

Allan had a good heart, for all the snark and sometimes pettiness he showed, beneath it all it was out of affection for his friends. Most of the time. Certainly he was the most prone to selfishness out of them all, but she knew him well enough to know he had truly changed for the better. And it wasn't unlikely that he would have been the one to notice anything amiss between her and Will, the two of them were brothers in all but blood. She pulled her hood further down, shrouding the top of her face in shadow and as one Djaq and Allan turned to avoid the attention of two wandering guards from the castle.
"I know you mean well, Allan, but there is nothing to concern yourself with, I assure you." She hissed as they let themselves into the disappointingly quiet market district. There were barely any stalls offering what meager goods they had, but that was no strange sight in the winter when crops were scarce and animals dying of starvation and cold.

"Alright, alright. Far be it for me to intrude."

Allan's voice trailed off as Djaq paused, distracted momentarily by a frightened cry for help from around the corner. Allan whirled around and they locked eyes for a second before breaking into a run, following the cry.

"Please! I have done nothing wrong! I have paid my rent!"

"Two weeks late. Sheriff wants an example set."

"Please! We were told there would be leniency made for an advance on the bread-" A loud crunching of fist of flesh cut off the sentence followed by the sneering of a guard.

"He was in a good mood then. Sheriff's changed his mind. Says you're to be whipped for tardiness."

Skidding to a halt at the beginning of the street, Djaq's lips pursed and a hand flew to the sword at her side. Two castle guards were forcibly hauling the miller from his home, paying no heed to the shouting of his wife from indoors or to the man's protestations. A crowd of onlookers had already gathered, peering through windows and out of doors but not daring to argue or face the same fate. Robin had been right. The Sheriff would be looking to punish each and every person he could find until he got his hands on the outlaws themselves.

"Reckon it's to draw us out!" Allan hissed, placing a hand on Djaq's elbow and pulling her to the side out of the line of sight of the approaching guards. "They'll be more of 'em waiting."

"Does it matter? This does not warrant a whipping." Djaq snapped back, glaring fiercely at Allan until he sighed and let go of her to draw his own sword. "Good." She huffed and flattened her back against the side of the house, lying in wait for the moment to strike.

Ten seconds they stood there, out of sight until the moment the guards stepped out in front of them. She darted to the left, leaving Allan poised to strike the guard on their right, and whistled loudly. They whirled around, too busy restraining the struggling miller to draw their weapons quickly enough to block a well aimed kick to the ribs of one and the hilt of Allan's sword coming down hard on the side of the other's helmet.

Distraction granted, the miller fell free to his knees on the ground and scrambled away quickly. One guard toppled unconscious to the dirt, closely followed by the second who landed hand on his face when Djaq nimbly vaulted off his back. The grin Allan and Djaq shared was short lived when four others appeared from behind walls, amongst the curtains of fabric that hung on display.

"Here!" Allan shouted, tossing the miller's wife a pouch of coins from his belt and madly waving Djaq over. "I told you so."

"Shut up, Allan. Split up?"

"Split up."

They split, each drawing two guards after them. Her cloak billowed out behind her as Djaq ran, the adrenaline of the chase flushing her cheeks as she clambered over a stall and seized a length of green cloth from the line above. Hurling it behind her she gained a few precious seconds worth of distance ahead of her pursuers as one cursed and flailed behind the cloth. A plan began to formulate in her mind as she darted down an alley and flattened herself face first against the wall. Her brown cloak fluttered to the ground, blending neatly with the pile of sacks to her right. Not a moment too soon, a thundering of footsteps rounded the corner and, oblivious to her camouflage, charged right past her and around the next bend. The Saracen stole a peek from beneath her hood and grinned. It was the first time in weeks that she had completely let herself forget that she could not be doing this sort of thing forever anymore, all that mattered was that she had found the delivery for the castle's kitchens right in time. Pulling a knife from her boot she cut open the nearest sack of flour and began filling the smaller, more manageable bags that hung from her belt. She filled four, evenly strapped two on each hip, before deciding that any more would inhibit her movement too much and darted out to look for Allan.

A carriage rolled past just as she reached the main road and, assuming it to be the Sheriff, Djaq quickly turned her face away. She was not fast enough and caught movement inside as the passenger turned and looked directly at her. It was certainly not the Sheriff. The dark skinned woman within the carriage was visible but for a moment before the carriage rolled out of sight, but she had leaned forward to get a better look at Djaq just as Djaq had done the same. There was no doubting who that was.

"That would be the real Lady Rose." Allan appeared, popping out from behind a pillar just as the coach trundled out the gates of the city and confirming Djaq's suspicions. "She didn't look pleased."

"And from the look she gave me, she has heard everything about last night."

"Which means so will Prince John before long."