IV - An Unwilling Guest
When the Sheriff marched into the room, his prisoner was already standing by the bath, shirtless, and eyeing the water as if it was poison. The boy had not yet touched the food that had been left out for him.
"I assume you know what a bath is?" the Sheriff asked, amused by his prisoner's confusion.
"I do, I've just never heard of a Sheriff that would treat his prisoners to one," the boy replied dryly. The Sheriff walked over to the table and took a bite out of the chicken to prove he wasn't trying to poison anyone today.
"I don't consider you to be my prisoner, more like… an unwilling guest," he said. He walked around the boy, eyeing him from head to toe. He was tall, and not well-fed, but his arms clearly had strength, suggesting that he was familiar with physical work. With his messy brown hair and specks of dirt on his cheek, he looked like all the other peasants the Sheriff had arrested over the years.
"Well, I've never heard of a Sheriff that lets his guests sleep in a dungeon," the boy said. At least he wasn't cowering with fear, that was good. The Sheriff had no use for cowards.
"What's your name, boy?" he asked. This seemed to surprise the young man. He frowned and looked at the Sheriff as if the question was the strangest thing one could ask after meeting someone for the first time.
"Adam."
"Well, Adam, eat some food. Have a bath. You look like you need both," the Sheriff said and turned around to make his exit.
"Wait! Why am I here?" Adam asked.
The Sheriff walked back over to him. The boy seemed unphased as the Sheriff stood right in front of him, staring right into his eyes.
"You'll find out eventually. For now, be a good boy and do as I say, and we can be friends."
"My friends are usually much better looking," Adam said, but for the first time since the beginning of the conversation he seemed to regret not holding back his tongue. He quickly composed himself again, but the Sheriff had already seen the hesitation in him.
"I'm not very fond of comedians," the Sheriff said, still not breaking eye contact.
"Too bad. I'm very funny," Adam replied, flashing a smile that did not quite reach his eyes. Clearly, he was not easily intimidated. Which was good, but it meant that the Sheriff would have to find a different way to get under his skin. He couldn't keep looking up at the boy at this uncomfortable angle all day, not when his neck was already sore from having to look up at Gisborne all the time.
"I'll let you know if I have a need for a fool. Now, eat," the Sheriff commanded and marched out of the room before Adam could say anything else. One of the guards standing outside locked the door behind him. "When he is done, take him back to his cell," the Sheriff said.
Sunlight filtered through the bright green leaves onto the forest floor. The light was so bright it could almost blind someone, and the shadows so dark that nothing could exist in them. There were no sounds, no birds singing or wind rustling the leaves as Guy of Gisborne walked slowly ahead, passing from light to shadow and back to the light. Someone was watching him.
He spun around, but the shadows kept him from seeing anyone. Then he felt a touch against his back. Slowly, he turned around again.
Cold, empty eyes stared at him behind a mask. The Nightwatchman.
Guy reached for his sword, but it was not at his side. The Nightwatchman held it up to him. He reached for it, but the moment he touched it, he felt the hilt burn like hot coals against his skin. The Nightwatchman was gone. Guy looked around, but the forest was silent.
From the corner of his eye, he saw an arrow aimed right at him. He didn't need to look to know who was holding the bow. He closed his eyes and waited, but death never came. Guy opened his eyes. Marian stood in front of him, dressed in her white dress and covered in blood. He tried to open his mouth to say something, but his lips were dry, and no sound came out. Marian stared at him blankly. She would bleed out soon. Guy looked down at his sword. It was covered in the same bright red blood. No. It wasn't his fault. His eyes had been closed; he hadn't moved.
Guy closed his eyes again, refusing to look at Marian. Then he heard someone let out a shrieking cry, but he couldn't make out the words. He couldn't feel the sword in his hand anymore. Soft, gentle fingers wrapped around his wrist.
"Why did you do it?" a voice whispered in his ear, but he wasn't sure who it was.
"I didn't," he said, his voice rough.
"Not that," the voice replied. The hand holding his wrist disappeared.
Guy opened his eyes once more. Someone was crying against his chest. Small hands were holding tightly onto his shirt. Brown curls fell down her back and moved in rhythm with her sobs.
"Don't do this, Guy," she cried. "Please don't."
"I have to," he said. His voice got caught in his throat and came out unsure and broken. He placed a hand on her back and felt something wet. She was bleeding.
"You were supposed to keep me safe," she said quietly. Her grip on his shirt loosened and she began to fall to the ground. Guy tried to hold her up, but the blood was making everything too slippery. He couldn't hold on. She fell, and his hands were covered in blood. Then he felt something cold wrap around his neck, and he was pulled back into the shadows.
Guy's heart was racing as he woke up, gasping for air. His mind took a moment to adjust to reality. His hands weren't covered in blood, he was in his own bed in Locksley manor and there was no-one else in the room with him. He sat up and ran his hands over his face. He couldn't remember the last time he had slept well.
The nightmares happened almost every night and kept him from resting properly. It wasn't always the same dream, but he knew the pattern by now. Sometimes he was in the forest, being taunted by Hood before falling into a trap. Sometimes he was in Locksley, with every single villager dead around him. Sometimes he was at his mother's grave, begging for forgiveness before being dragged down under the ground. Sometimes he was in the burning heat of the desert, trying to dig up Marian's lifeless body from the sand. Sometimes he wasn't sure where he was. But there was always blood. Thick, red blood that tainted everything. All of the lives he had taken and even those he had tried to take followed him to his dreams.
Guy had not known peace since he had returned to England. Every dream he had turned into a nightmare that inevitably woke him up in cold sweat. Perhaps it was what he deserved for what he did to Marian. Life had given him a chance to redeem himself, yet he had thrown the opportunity away. When had it all gone wrong? Maybe he was always meant to turn out this way.
Guy dragged himself up from the bed despite his body desperately needing rest. He had no choice but to live in the hell he had created.
Adam didn't resist much when the guards dragged him back down to the dungeons. The Sheriff was playing some kind of a game with him, but he had no interest in finding out what the rules were. He was thrown back into his cell and the guards locked the door.
"You wouldn't happen to know why I'm here?" Adam asked.
"It's none of our business," one of the guards replied. He didn't notice that Adam had reached his hand through the bars.
"But you must have heard something, right? Don't I have a right to know what I'm being accused of?" Adam asked. His fingers gripped the key on the guard's belt.
"Your rights aren't our concern. We just follow orders," the guard replied and pushed Adam back. He didn't see the key Adam was squeezing in his fist.
As the guards walked away, Adam hid the key in a dark corner of the cell. Now that his escape was practically guaranteed, he just had to wait for the right moment.
The moment the guards told the Sheriff that a prisoner had escaped, his first reaction was to consider throwing every single guard that worked for him out of the window of the highest tower. His second reaction was dread. Could Hood be behind this escape? No, there was no way he even knew about any of this. Maybe the guards really were this incompetent. It was as if this damn castle had no locks at all! How was it that prisoners kept walking in and out as they pleased, like the castle was an inn?
The Sheriff ordered every single guard to look for the boy. And if those fools happened to find him and let him slip away yet again, everyone involved would be punished severely. His pride could not take any more mistakes. He would guard the boy himself if that was what it took to keep him locked up.
The Sheriff sat by his desk and poured himself a goblet of wine. Perhaps he shouldn't have gotten rid of Henry so soon. He could have been useful in keeping the boy within the Sheriff's influence. But it was too late now. He would have to deal with Adam on his own. For now, all he could do was wait until his guards found the boy and dragged him back into his cell where he would be under constant supervision.
In hindsight, it might have been a good idea to run down towards the outside of the castle rather than to climb higher and ensure being trapped inside, but Adam had never been one to plan ahead. The dark corridors of Nottingham Castle seemed like a labyrinth as he ran around aimlessly, trying to find a way to escape or at the very least hide. He could hear guards around every corner. They would catch him at any moment.
Adam ran up a spiral staircase, guessing that he was probably in one of the towers. He was about to pass by a small window, but he made an instinctive decision to jump out of it. There was a narrow piece of the roof on the other side, so it would be unlikely that he would fall to his death. Just as he had squeezed himself through the small window, he heard guards running up the stairs. Adam crawled carefully along the roof. Someone shouted something down on the ground – he must have been spotted. Adam crawled a little faster until he reached the other end of the roof, where he was met with one of the castle's outer walls.
Right now, planning ahead would have been useful. Going down would mean death, or at the very least several broken bones, which was a death sentence of its own. Going back into the tower was a bad idea as well, because he would immediately be ambushed by guards. The only direction to go was up.
Adam stood, took a few shaky steps backwards, hoping he wouldn't fall, and ran until he could jump to catch the edge of the wall. He made the jump just barely, but managed to pull himself up on the wall. On the other side freedom waited for him. He just needed a way down. Preferably before he was caught.
Fortunately, there was a convenient rope that he could use to climb down. Adam didn't stop to check if it would reach all the way to the ground, and instead he tied it to a nearby pillar and began climbing down. He focused on climbing and refused to look down, ignoring the fact that he had no idea how much wall there was left to descend.
There were voices up on the wall. Adam looked up to see three guards peering down at him. They grabbed the rope and began pulling him back up. Let's hope broken bones don't kill me, Adam thought, and let go of the rope.
After tossing and turning for hours, only managing to get a few minutes of sleep at a time, Guy decided to give up on trying to get any more sleep. It was already past noon, and if he didn't get up now, he would get nothing done. He dragged himself up from the bed and began dressing himself. When searching for his belt, he nearly knocked over a plate a servant had brought him some time ago. The food on it was already cold, so he decided to skip his meal.
As Guy made his way down the stairs, he began regretting this decision. The manor was spinning around him, and blood rushed loudly in his ears. Maybe he should have eaten something to make up for the lack of sleep. Before he could make the last few steps down, he saw a figure standing at the bottom of the stairs. Guy blinked, and the figure became clearer.
"Marian," he whispered. He reached out to her. No, Marian is dead, he tried telling himself. But here she was, standing right in front of him. Why wasn't she saying anything? Guy tried to walk to her, but lost his footing and ended up stumbling down the last few steps until he fell to the floor.
When he looked up, Marian was gone.
"My lord, are you alright?" a servant, appearing out of nowhere, asked. He tried to help Gisborne get up, but he pushed the servant away.
"I'm fine," he grumbled as he stood. His steps were still unsteady as he headed for the door.
"Are you sure, my lord? Should I call for a physician?" the servant called after him, but Guy wasn't paying attention to him anymore. He needed fresh air.
When he stepped outside, he was blinded by the bright sunlight. It helped clear his head just a little, but his feet kept walking without a clear destination.
Of course, Marian hadn't really been here. He had murdered her himself. Never again would she be here in Locksley. Any vision of her was either his own subconscious and guilty conscience conjuring up images to play with him, or God punishing him for what he had done. Guy wasn't sure which option he preferred.
He realized he had been walking for some time without paying attention to where he was going. His feet were moving on their own, taking him somewhere. Soon he found himself standing in a place he had avoided coming to for years. He fell down to his knees.
His mother's grave.
Why was he here? Was this just another way for him to torture himself? Surely his mother would be disappointed in him if she knew what he had become. Had she not died, perhaps Guy of Gisborne could have been a better man. If he had not been orphaned at such a young age and left in charge of a sister who was nothing but a burden to him, maybe he would have lived a very different life. But there was no use in wondering what could have been. Everything had been going wrong for so long that Guy couldn't remember when things had been truly right. Maybe this was what was always supposed to happen, and he was just a pawn in the sick game of fate.
Adam's legs felt like they were on fire as he ran faster than ever before. He had managed to not break any bones when dropping down from the wall, but he was sure he would be covered in dark bruises later. He had somehow made it to the forest, but the Sheriff's guards were riding right behind him on horseback.
Right now, Adam's strategy was to take sudden turns to confuse the guards, even though it meant he was getting quite lost himself. Just as he thought his legs might give up, an arrow passed by right behind him and landed on a tree to his right.
Adam didn't stop to wonder about the arrow, and instead sped up despite the throbbing pain in his legs. A moment later he heard something fall to the ground. He looked past his shoulder and saw that his pursuers had been thrown off their horses by a rope attached to the arrow.
"This way!" someone called out, and Adam didn't waste time staring at the guards any longer. He followed the voice, seeing only glimpses of the person that had saved him. Adam wasn't usually one to trust random strangers in forests, but in this situation, he was willing to take the risk.
At last, he came to a tree and saw a pair of legs disappear up through the leaves. Adam followed. His legs might have felt like porridge by this point, but his arms still had enough strength to lift him up until he finally reached the top of the tree. His saviour was already there, sitting between two branches and peering down at the ground.
"Are you alright?" the man asked. He was dressed in brown and green, and he was gripping his bow in his hand. Adam leaned against one of the branches to try and catch his breath.
"More or less. Thanks for saving me," he replied.
"Don't thank me yet, they're still looking for you," the man said, nodding at the ground below. "What's your name?"
"I'm- I'm Adam. You?" Adam said, still catching his breath.
"I'm Robin Hood," the man replied. He gave Adam an amused smile when the boy gaped at him in shock.
"Wha- Robin Hood? The Robin Hood?"
"Are there other Robin Hoods I don't know about?" Robin laughed.
Adam stared at him in disbelief. He had of course heard about Robin Hood, the famous outlaw who stood up against the Sheriff of Nottingham. At this point, if you were living in England, you had to be living under a rock to not have heard a single song about him.
"I just… I didn't think you were real," Adam said.
Just then, they heard dogs barking somewhere in the distance.
"The Sheriff must really want you; he rarely sends dogs after just one man. What did you do?" Robin asked.
Adam shrugged.
"I wish I knew. I was arrested and brought to Nottingham, and the Sheriff even let me have food and a bath, but at no point has anyone explained what crime I have committed."
"He let you have a bath?" Robin asked with a frown on his face.
"I take it he doesn't usually do that?"
"No. I find it strange he didn't just execute you straight away. He doesn't normally waste time on random prisoners." Robin watched Adam as he fiddled with the sleeve of his shirt. The barking of the dogs echoed in the forest.
"Do you think the dogs will find us?" Adam asked.
"Where are you from?" Robin asked at the same time.
Adam looked at him, but judging by Robin's calm exterior, he guessed that the answer to his own question was "no".
"Here and there. Nowhere, really," Adam answered.
"Do you have any family?"
"Not that I know of."
"Then why does the Sheriff want you? What makes you so special?"
"Like I said, I don't know. And I'm not really interested in finding out. As soon as those dogs stop hunting me, I'm going as far away from Nottingham as I can," Adam declared.
Robin leaned forward. "Really? You're not even a little curious?"
"Not curious enough to risk my life. I've been in trouble before, usually because of something that I technically didn't even do."
"Technically?" Robin asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Most situations have been misunderstandings," Adam replied vaguely. He leaned against the tree more comfortably. With the barking getting more and more distant, he was starting to relax.
"Where will you go, then?"
"You're asking an awful lot of questions."
"I'm still trying to figure out why the Sheriff wants you."
Adam sighed. "Well, let me know if you figure it out," he said. "Anyway, I don't know where I'm going. They took all the money I had when they arrested me. This is all I have right now." He gestured to his clothes.
"You'll have to find some work, then."
"Eh, maybe," Adam said with a shrug.
"What, do you plan on stealing, then? I don't see many other options for you unless you happen to have rich friends," Robin said.
"Why not? You do it too, don't you?"
"I don't steal for myself."
"You don't?"
"Well, not unless I absolutely have to," Robin explained. This boy amused him, although there was something strange about him. He had noticed that Adam had told very little about himself. He seemed like the type who was very familiar with getting into trouble and even more familiar with wriggling himself out of said trouble — much like Allan when they had first met. Unlike Allan, Adam didn't seem like one to resort to elaborate lies, choosing to leave out details from his story instead.
The two stayed up in the tree for a while as the guards searched for them. Robin kept asking Adam about his life but got very sparse answers to his questions. He found out that before being taken to Nottingham, Adam had been staying in Manchester for the past few months. Adam had been all over England, staying wherever he could find some work to do, but he never liked to stick around for long in one place. He couldn't shoot an arrow to save his life, but he could hold his own in a swordfight. He had had a favourite cat when he was younger, but it had died of old age. It was all very surface-level information, nothing about who he was friends with, what he believed in or what was important to him.
"You're very elusive," Robin said when they were finally climbing down the tree.
The barking of the dogs had quieted down a while ago, but it was possible that the guards were still somewhere in the forest.
"What do you mean?" Adam asked as he dropped down to the ground.
"You run from one place to another and avoid getting attached," Robin stated.
"You don't know anything about me," Adam argued, crossing his arms.
"Maybe so. But haven't you ever wanted a purpose in life? Something beyond just trying to stay alive?" Robin asked. He wasn't sure what it was about Adam that made him want to help this boy, but his conscience wouldn't have been clear if he just sent him on his way right now.
"What, like robbing from the rich and giving to the poor? Playing some kind of a hero?" Adam asked, rolling his eyes.
"Maybe," Robin replied.
Adam was taken aback.
"I… I wasn't actually serious."
"I was. We could use someone like you. So long as you swear that you aren't a spy for the Sheriff and stay loyal to us, you can tell us as little about yourself as you'd like," Robin offered. Much would throw a fit about this, but he wasn't here right now. Robin knew they needed more men, especially since Kate wasn't allowed to fight. And Adam needed a place to go.
"Why would I join you, a known outlaw?" Adam asked hesitantly.
"You would get a purpose. A roof over your head. Food — though not a lot of it and of varying quality — on your plate. You can stick around and try to find out why the Sheriff is after you. And I'll even teach you how to shoot, if you'd like." Robin offered his hand, but Adam was still wary of the proposal.
"How many of you are there right now?"
"Myself and four others."
Adam kept staring at Robin's outstretched hand.
"It's your choice," Robin said.
Finally, Adam sighed deeply and relaxed.
"Fine. I'll stay for a while, but I won't promise anything. And I'm only agreeing to this because I'm starting to get very hungry and tired," Adam said, but he couldn't stop himself from smiling a little.
"That's all right," Robin said, and began leading the way towards the camp. Now he just needed to explain this to the others.
Robin had been correct in guessing that Much would throw a fit about bringing Adam to the camp.
"You don't even know him!" Much had objected.
"Well, none of us really knew each other in the beginning," Robin had explained.
Much still wasn't sold on the idea of just taking in someone they knew nothing about and who – according to Much – was probably a spy for the Sheriff. He threw out his accusations with a glance towards Allan, who did seem suspicious of Adam but kept his opinion to himself. Adam himself offered no help in dissolving the others' concerns.
"I only agreed to come because I was promised food," he said as he sat down next to the fire. He was impressed with the camp, because it was much better than what he had expected from a hideout for a few outlaws.
Adam just watched as Robin continued to argue with Much. Allan and John were clearly stuck somewhere between "let's give him a chance" and "I don't trust him", but neither of them got a chance to express their opinions. Adam felt someone stare at him, and turned around to see Kate standing next to the wall with an icy look in her eyes.
"So what do you think?" he asked as Much started listing the different ways Adam could kill them in their sleep.
"I don't like you," Kate replied simply.
"Why not?"
"You annoy me," she explained.
"You just met me and were immediately annoyed?"
"Exactly."
"Well, that's your problem," Adam said and leaned back on his seat.
He could stick around for a while. He had never been too concerned with what people thought of him, so he could deal with Much and Kate's terrible attitudes for now. And learning how to shoot would be a useful skill. Besides, maybe Robin had been right: Perhaps he could use this as an opportunity to find out why the Sheriff was after him.