The Successor
by Jennifer Campbell
None of the characters belong to me, unfortunately. I'm just
having a little fun and will return them, no worse for wear,
when I'm done. This story takes place early in Series 1. No
beta, so blame the typos on me.
Whoo-hoo! It's taken me way too long, but the story is
finally finished. Time to pop the champagne.
#
Robin loped through the forest, so much like the wolf his
enemies had branded him to be. He hurdled boulders and
fallen logs, not caring when he landed in water, or when
branches whipped his face and left their sting. Sweat, like
acid, dripped in his eyes, and his lungs burned, but he
refused to rest. In this race, time worked against him.
Faster, faster.
The vision, so sharp in Herne's flame, pushed him to run.
In his mind's eye, he could see his friends charging into
battle on open ground, outnumbered, and one of their number
falling with a bolt in his shoulder. And he could see young
Robert, so defiant as he faced down two Nottingham soldiers
on horseback. It would happen soon. He had to reach Wickham
quickly, to avert disaster. Should one of his men die, he
would not easily forgive himself. And should Robert die ...
_He is the hope for the future. Without him, all is lost._
So Herne had said, and Robin knew the truth of it. He knew
he would not live forever -- he had accepted long ago that
each day could be his last -- and someone must come after to
carry on his fight for justice. He always had thought it
would be one of his men -- John, most likely. Strange
that instead, that one should be a nobleman's son, born of
the very people Robin battled, but he did not question
Herne's wisdom.
So he ran. Until his legs burned, and the ache in his
chest became a searing pain. He heard Herne's words,
repeated like a mantra in his mind.
_A man is coming to the forest. One intended to follow in
your steps. ... He is the hope for the future. Without him,
all is lost._
Faster, faster.
#
The outlaws crouched in the undergrowth, eyes fixed on the
open field before them. At the same time they had arrived,
Gisburne and his men had galloped onto the scene, trampling
newly planted seeds and causing the people of Wickham to
cower in fear. The soldiers outnumbered Robin's men 2-to-1,
and those weren't odds the outlaws liked. Plus, they had
seen no sign of Robin. So they stayed hidden, and waited.
On Marion's left sat Will, muttering angrily under his
breath, and on her right was Kyle, who shifted nervously
and looked like he wanted to be anywhere else. Their hiding
place was too far away to hear voices, but the implications
were clear enough when two soldiers grabbed Edward and held
him as he struggled. At the field's edge, Alison fell to
her knees and stopped Matthew from running to his father's
aid.
Will clenched his fists. "They're dead men."
"Not yet," said John, on Will's other side. "Wait until
they're back in the forest."
"I know that," Will snapped.
The soldiers secured Edward between their horses, and
Gisburne turned his mount to leave. But before they could
go more than a couple of steps, before the outlaws could
regroup to follow, a voice ripped out, audible even to
Marion and the others.
"NO!"
Everyone froze. Marion strained to see who dared to
challenge Gisburne, and her eyes fell on a golden-haired
young man standing at the field's edge, a sword in his
hand. She didn't recognize him. He certainly did not come
from Wickham, as the outlaws knew all the villagers by name.
"Is he insane?" Will asked no one in particular. "He's
gonna get himself killed."
Kyle gasped. "Robert!"
Before anyone could prevent it, Kyle jumped up into full
view. Marion, moving quicker than the others, grabbed his
shirt and jerked him down to his knees. Fortunately, with
all attention focused on the challenger, no soldier had
noticed the outburst.
"Stay down," Marion hissed.
"But, Robert ... he's in trouble! I'm his squire, and it's
my duty to help him."
"By getting yourself killed?" Marion chided, and Kyle
looked at her helplessly. "Be patient. They'll probably
take him prisoner, and we'll get him back once they're in
the forest."
"Or maybe not," Will said, pointing. "Look."
Two soldiers had drawn their swords and were bearing down
on Robert. He looked so small, standing there with his
weapon raised, moving not a muscle as the horsemen drew
closer. The Wickham villagers, except for Alison and
Matthew, used the opportunity to flee toward their homes.
Kyle dug his fingernails into his palms and made strangling
noises.
At the last moment, just as the soldiers brought down
their swords, Robert tumbled to the ground while slashing
up with his blade, ripping apart the saddle cinch on one of
the horses. The soldier slid off, thudded hard in the dirt
and struggled to free himself from his stirrups. The fall
had dislodged the soldier's helmet, so Robert brought his
hilt down on the man's head and knocked him out.
Marion released the breath she hadn't even realized she
had been holding. Robert knew how to use a sword, and was
more than capable of defending himself.
So was this young man the successor Robin had spoken of?
She recognized that the passion of her husband, to protect
the weak and fight injustice, also consumed Robert. And she
no longer feared that Robin and Robert had come to blows,
not after seeing Robert face down Nottingham soldiers. No
such man could be the outlaws' enemy. Still, if Robert was
this mysterious successor, then where was Robin? Why had
her husband led his young charge to Wickham and then
abandoned him there? It made no sense.
"Not bad," commented Tuck, as Robert readied himself for
another pass. "He's smart."
"Smart won't save him against all that," Will said, and
Marion elbowed him in the ribs.
The remaining horseman came around for another go.
Meanwhile, Gisburne barked at his men, and the entire
company of soldiers drew their swords.
"See," Will said. "Told ya."
"They're going to run him down!" Kyle yelled, then
scrambled to his feet and, before anyone could stop him,
went running toward the field. He was bellowing at the top
of his lungs, which was enough to catch the soldiers'
startled attention.
John looked at his fellow outlaws. "Now what?"
For an answer, Nasir rose to his feet, drew both swords
and took off after Kyle. As one, the others jumped up and
followed, with Will, John and Much yelling the whole way.
Marion hitched up her skirts with one hand and pulled out
the sword Robin had given to her with the other.
This wasn't their best of ideas, she thought as she ran
behind John. But the soldiers had redirected their
attention from Robert to the outlaws, and that was good. No
one who had the courage to challenge that rat Gisburne
should have to face the consequences alone.
Then they reached the field, and she no longer had time to
think.
#
All around Robert, Nottingham soldiers were drawing their
weapons and closing in. One man he could take out, and
maybe a few others, but he couldn't single-handedly defeat
the entire group. He wished that Kyle were with him, or
Robin. At least then they would stand a chance of surviving
this insanity.
But wishing wouldn't make it happen, and Robert had only
Albion to defend himself with against the Sheriff's men. He
had to make the most of it. Running was out of the option,
as the mounted soldiers would easily catch him. His best
chance, he decided, was to knock as many of them off their
horses as possible, and at least put them all on the same
footing.
Behind him, Gisburne and his men slowly advanced. Ahead
was the remaining horseman, coming fast. The cinch trick
wouldn't work again, so Robert merely blocked the soldier's
sword as he rode past. The impact reverberated down his
arms, but he stayed on his feet. He turned to face Gisburne
and his men.
The soldiers stopped. They reined in as one, horse hooves
sinking into the soft planting dirt, and stared past
Robert, toward the tree line. Robert dared to glance over
his shoulder, and his hope suddenly returned. Several men
were running up the hill, swords glinting in the sunlight,
and in the lead was...
"Kyle!" Robert grinned and laughed for his good fortune.
Surely this rag-tag group must be Robin's gang, and if so,
then he might survive the day after all. But he didn't see
Robin himself, and that made him worry. If he wasn't with
his men, then where was he?
Behind him, Gisburne barked, "Outlaws! Kill them!"
Horses thundered past Robert. They seemed to have
forgotten him, so he used the opportunity to cut the saddle
of another soldier. The man rolled to his feet and, with an
angry yell, charged at Robert.
Robert had practiced long and hard with a sword, and
Albion proved the most well-crafted, easily handled weapon
he had ever held. But he had never before found himself in
a true battle, kill or be killed. The Earl wouldn't risk
his only heir like that, but now those years of protection
worked against him. His heart raced, and he experienced a
terrifying moment in which he thought perhaps his training
would fail him.
The soldier handled his sword clumsily, though, and
Robert's confidence grew. Within seconds, the soldier had
raised his sword too high, aiming a downward chop at
Robert's neck, and Robert used the opening to skewer him
through the stomach. Albion slid in smooth, encountering
little resistance, and came out sheathed in blood. The
soldier fell. Robert lost his breakfast all over the
corpse. He had never killed a man before.
He didn't have time to recover, though, or think about
what he had just done. Below him on the grassy hill, Kyle
and the outlaws were holding their own. With no guard,
Edward had gone to his family, and the three were running
back toward the village. And before him, Gisburne had
dismounted and was approaching on foot. Only minutes
before, he had shown contempt for Robert, but now he moved
more cautiously.
"The outlaws came to save _you_," Gisburne said. "Who are
you that they would do this?"
"I've already told you."
"Son of the Earl of Huntingdon? Do you really think a
bunch of outlaws would care what happens to a nobleman's
brat? Or that a nobleman would care what happens to these
peasants?" Gisburne sneered "Who are you _really_?"
"I have no other answer to give," Robert said, enjoying
the mystery that had grown around him. "Does it really
matter, anyway?"
"Since I'm about to kill you ... No."
"Let's get on with it, then."
Gisburne obliged. Their swords met with an arm-numbing
crash. They had traded only a few blows before Robert found
himself on the retreat. He had the training, but Gisburne
had experience, and it showed. Robert thrust at his
opponent's stomach, in a desperate attempt to gain the
advantage, but Gisburne jumped aside, grabbed Robert's
wrist and brought his sword hilt down on Robert's hand.
Albion fell to the dirt.
Robert didn't have time to reach for his weapon before
Gisburne would kill him, so he did the only thing he could.
He ran.
#
Robin arrived, out of breath, just in time to see a
mounted soldier take aim at Will with his crossbow.
"Will, look out!" Robin yelled, but the warning came too
late. The bolt hit Will in the shoulder, and he went down
with an enraged yell.
Robin forced his exhausted legs to keep moving, up the
hill to Will's side, just in time to block a killing blow.
The soldier's eyes grew wide when he realized whom he was
facing, and he turned and ran. Robin helped Will to his
feet.
"'Bout time you got here," Will muttered, and he fingered
the bolt sticking out of his shoulder.
"Get back under cover," Robin ordered. "You can't do any
more good like that."
"Like hell I can't!" Will smirked and ran back into the
battle.
Robin knew he would have to deal with that insubordination
later, but now he had no time. He looked around frantically
for Robert, and finally spotted him, racing down the hill
at top speed, Gisburne close behind. Gisburne drew a dagger
from his belt and pulled back to throw.
"Robert, down!" Robin yelled, and Robert dove for the
grass. Gisburne's dagger flew overhead and hit one of his
own men in the back. Robin brandished his sword and
shouted, "Gisburne!"
At that, Gisburne saw Robin, grinned and started toward
him. Robert took the opportunity to run back up the hill --
Robin could only assume he was going to retrieve Albion.
Robin positioned himself as best he could on the downhill
and waited for Gisburne. They had fought so many times
before that they knew each other's style and movement, and
had trouble landing any surprises. In a strange way, it
felt comfortable fighting Gisburne, like putting on a well-
worn pair of shoes.
They faced off with the usual moves, blades clashing.
Robin felt slightly off-balance, as he was fighting with an
unfamiliar weapon, but he held is own. He slowly managed to
reverse their positions, with Gisburne below him on the
hill, and he pushed forward aggressively. He slipped a move
past Gisburne's defenses and stab him in the shoulder. It
was enough to end the fight.
"Retreat!" Gisburne yelled. He ran for his horse, and
Robin let him go. The few remaining mounted soldiers
galloped toward the road, and the ones on foot went
searching for their mounts.
A quick scan of his gang confirmed that no one had died,
and only Will had been injured. Robert was walking back
down the hill, Albion in his hand. Another young man stood
farther down the hill with a blood-covered sword, staring
at a corpse, and Robin recognized him as Robert's
companion. He breathed out heavily in relief and sent a
silent thanks to Herne. Everyone had survived for another
day.
#
Continued ...
by Jennifer Campbell
None of the characters belong to me, unfortunately. I'm just
having a little fun and will return them, no worse for wear,
when I'm done. This story takes place early in Series 1. No
beta, so blame the typos on me.
Whoo-hoo! It's taken me way too long, but the story is
finally finished. Time to pop the champagne.
#
Robin loped through the forest, so much like the wolf his
enemies had branded him to be. He hurdled boulders and
fallen logs, not caring when he landed in water, or when
branches whipped his face and left their sting. Sweat, like
acid, dripped in his eyes, and his lungs burned, but he
refused to rest. In this race, time worked against him.
Faster, faster.
The vision, so sharp in Herne's flame, pushed him to run.
In his mind's eye, he could see his friends charging into
battle on open ground, outnumbered, and one of their number
falling with a bolt in his shoulder. And he could see young
Robert, so defiant as he faced down two Nottingham soldiers
on horseback. It would happen soon. He had to reach Wickham
quickly, to avert disaster. Should one of his men die, he
would not easily forgive himself. And should Robert die ...
_He is the hope for the future. Without him, all is lost._
So Herne had said, and Robin knew the truth of it. He knew
he would not live forever -- he had accepted long ago that
each day could be his last -- and someone must come after to
carry on his fight for justice. He always had thought it
would be one of his men -- John, most likely. Strange
that instead, that one should be a nobleman's son, born of
the very people Robin battled, but he did not question
Herne's wisdom.
So he ran. Until his legs burned, and the ache in his
chest became a searing pain. He heard Herne's words,
repeated like a mantra in his mind.
_A man is coming to the forest. One intended to follow in
your steps. ... He is the hope for the future. Without him,
all is lost._
Faster, faster.
#
The outlaws crouched in the undergrowth, eyes fixed on the
open field before them. At the same time they had arrived,
Gisburne and his men had galloped onto the scene, trampling
newly planted seeds and causing the people of Wickham to
cower in fear. The soldiers outnumbered Robin's men 2-to-1,
and those weren't odds the outlaws liked. Plus, they had
seen no sign of Robin. So they stayed hidden, and waited.
On Marion's left sat Will, muttering angrily under his
breath, and on her right was Kyle, who shifted nervously
and looked like he wanted to be anywhere else. Their hiding
place was too far away to hear voices, but the implications
were clear enough when two soldiers grabbed Edward and held
him as he struggled. At the field's edge, Alison fell to
her knees and stopped Matthew from running to his father's
aid.
Will clenched his fists. "They're dead men."
"Not yet," said John, on Will's other side. "Wait until
they're back in the forest."
"I know that," Will snapped.
The soldiers secured Edward between their horses, and
Gisburne turned his mount to leave. But before they could
go more than a couple of steps, before the outlaws could
regroup to follow, a voice ripped out, audible even to
Marion and the others.
"NO!"
Everyone froze. Marion strained to see who dared to
challenge Gisburne, and her eyes fell on a golden-haired
young man standing at the field's edge, a sword in his
hand. She didn't recognize him. He certainly did not come
from Wickham, as the outlaws knew all the villagers by name.
"Is he insane?" Will asked no one in particular. "He's
gonna get himself killed."
Kyle gasped. "Robert!"
Before anyone could prevent it, Kyle jumped up into full
view. Marion, moving quicker than the others, grabbed his
shirt and jerked him down to his knees. Fortunately, with
all attention focused on the challenger, no soldier had
noticed the outburst.
"Stay down," Marion hissed.
"But, Robert ... he's in trouble! I'm his squire, and it's
my duty to help him."
"By getting yourself killed?" Marion chided, and Kyle
looked at her helplessly. "Be patient. They'll probably
take him prisoner, and we'll get him back once they're in
the forest."
"Or maybe not," Will said, pointing. "Look."
Two soldiers had drawn their swords and were bearing down
on Robert. He looked so small, standing there with his
weapon raised, moving not a muscle as the horsemen drew
closer. The Wickham villagers, except for Alison and
Matthew, used the opportunity to flee toward their homes.
Kyle dug his fingernails into his palms and made strangling
noises.
At the last moment, just as the soldiers brought down
their swords, Robert tumbled to the ground while slashing
up with his blade, ripping apart the saddle cinch on one of
the horses. The soldier slid off, thudded hard in the dirt
and struggled to free himself from his stirrups. The fall
had dislodged the soldier's helmet, so Robert brought his
hilt down on the man's head and knocked him out.
Marion released the breath she hadn't even realized she
had been holding. Robert knew how to use a sword, and was
more than capable of defending himself.
So was this young man the successor Robin had spoken of?
She recognized that the passion of her husband, to protect
the weak and fight injustice, also consumed Robert. And she
no longer feared that Robin and Robert had come to blows,
not after seeing Robert face down Nottingham soldiers. No
such man could be the outlaws' enemy. Still, if Robert was
this mysterious successor, then where was Robin? Why had
her husband led his young charge to Wickham and then
abandoned him there? It made no sense.
"Not bad," commented Tuck, as Robert readied himself for
another pass. "He's smart."
"Smart won't save him against all that," Will said, and
Marion elbowed him in the ribs.
The remaining horseman came around for another go.
Meanwhile, Gisburne barked at his men, and the entire
company of soldiers drew their swords.
"See," Will said. "Told ya."
"They're going to run him down!" Kyle yelled, then
scrambled to his feet and, before anyone could stop him,
went running toward the field. He was bellowing at the top
of his lungs, which was enough to catch the soldiers'
startled attention.
John looked at his fellow outlaws. "Now what?"
For an answer, Nasir rose to his feet, drew both swords
and took off after Kyle. As one, the others jumped up and
followed, with Will, John and Much yelling the whole way.
Marion hitched up her skirts with one hand and pulled out
the sword Robin had given to her with the other.
This wasn't their best of ideas, she thought as she ran
behind John. But the soldiers had redirected their
attention from Robert to the outlaws, and that was good. No
one who had the courage to challenge that rat Gisburne
should have to face the consequences alone.
Then they reached the field, and she no longer had time to
think.
#
All around Robert, Nottingham soldiers were drawing their
weapons and closing in. One man he could take out, and
maybe a few others, but he couldn't single-handedly defeat
the entire group. He wished that Kyle were with him, or
Robin. At least then they would stand a chance of surviving
this insanity.
But wishing wouldn't make it happen, and Robert had only
Albion to defend himself with against the Sheriff's men. He
had to make the most of it. Running was out of the option,
as the mounted soldiers would easily catch him. His best
chance, he decided, was to knock as many of them off their
horses as possible, and at least put them all on the same
footing.
Behind him, Gisburne and his men slowly advanced. Ahead
was the remaining horseman, coming fast. The cinch trick
wouldn't work again, so Robert merely blocked the soldier's
sword as he rode past. The impact reverberated down his
arms, but he stayed on his feet. He turned to face Gisburne
and his men.
The soldiers stopped. They reined in as one, horse hooves
sinking into the soft planting dirt, and stared past
Robert, toward the tree line. Robert dared to glance over
his shoulder, and his hope suddenly returned. Several men
were running up the hill, swords glinting in the sunlight,
and in the lead was...
"Kyle!" Robert grinned and laughed for his good fortune.
Surely this rag-tag group must be Robin's gang, and if so,
then he might survive the day after all. But he didn't see
Robin himself, and that made him worry. If he wasn't with
his men, then where was he?
Behind him, Gisburne barked, "Outlaws! Kill them!"
Horses thundered past Robert. They seemed to have
forgotten him, so he used the opportunity to cut the saddle
of another soldier. The man rolled to his feet and, with an
angry yell, charged at Robert.
Robert had practiced long and hard with a sword, and
Albion proved the most well-crafted, easily handled weapon
he had ever held. But he had never before found himself in
a true battle, kill or be killed. The Earl wouldn't risk
his only heir like that, but now those years of protection
worked against him. His heart raced, and he experienced a
terrifying moment in which he thought perhaps his training
would fail him.
The soldier handled his sword clumsily, though, and
Robert's confidence grew. Within seconds, the soldier had
raised his sword too high, aiming a downward chop at
Robert's neck, and Robert used the opening to skewer him
through the stomach. Albion slid in smooth, encountering
little resistance, and came out sheathed in blood. The
soldier fell. Robert lost his breakfast all over the
corpse. He had never killed a man before.
He didn't have time to recover, though, or think about
what he had just done. Below him on the grassy hill, Kyle
and the outlaws were holding their own. With no guard,
Edward had gone to his family, and the three were running
back toward the village. And before him, Gisburne had
dismounted and was approaching on foot. Only minutes
before, he had shown contempt for Robert, but now he moved
more cautiously.
"The outlaws came to save _you_," Gisburne said. "Who are
you that they would do this?"
"I've already told you."
"Son of the Earl of Huntingdon? Do you really think a
bunch of outlaws would care what happens to a nobleman's
brat? Or that a nobleman would care what happens to these
peasants?" Gisburne sneered "Who are you _really_?"
"I have no other answer to give," Robert said, enjoying
the mystery that had grown around him. "Does it really
matter, anyway?"
"Since I'm about to kill you ... No."
"Let's get on with it, then."
Gisburne obliged. Their swords met with an arm-numbing
crash. They had traded only a few blows before Robert found
himself on the retreat. He had the training, but Gisburne
had experience, and it showed. Robert thrust at his
opponent's stomach, in a desperate attempt to gain the
advantage, but Gisburne jumped aside, grabbed Robert's
wrist and brought his sword hilt down on Robert's hand.
Albion fell to the dirt.
Robert didn't have time to reach for his weapon before
Gisburne would kill him, so he did the only thing he could.
He ran.
#
Robin arrived, out of breath, just in time to see a
mounted soldier take aim at Will with his crossbow.
"Will, look out!" Robin yelled, but the warning came too
late. The bolt hit Will in the shoulder, and he went down
with an enraged yell.
Robin forced his exhausted legs to keep moving, up the
hill to Will's side, just in time to block a killing blow.
The soldier's eyes grew wide when he realized whom he was
facing, and he turned and ran. Robin helped Will to his
feet.
"'Bout time you got here," Will muttered, and he fingered
the bolt sticking out of his shoulder.
"Get back under cover," Robin ordered. "You can't do any
more good like that."
"Like hell I can't!" Will smirked and ran back into the
battle.
Robin knew he would have to deal with that insubordination
later, but now he had no time. He looked around frantically
for Robert, and finally spotted him, racing down the hill
at top speed, Gisburne close behind. Gisburne drew a dagger
from his belt and pulled back to throw.
"Robert, down!" Robin yelled, and Robert dove for the
grass. Gisburne's dagger flew overhead and hit one of his
own men in the back. Robin brandished his sword and
shouted, "Gisburne!"
At that, Gisburne saw Robin, grinned and started toward
him. Robert took the opportunity to run back up the hill --
Robin could only assume he was going to retrieve Albion.
Robin positioned himself as best he could on the downhill
and waited for Gisburne. They had fought so many times
before that they knew each other's style and movement, and
had trouble landing any surprises. In a strange way, it
felt comfortable fighting Gisburne, like putting on a well-
worn pair of shoes.
They faced off with the usual moves, blades clashing.
Robin felt slightly off-balance, as he was fighting with an
unfamiliar weapon, but he held is own. He slowly managed to
reverse their positions, with Gisburne below him on the
hill, and he pushed forward aggressively. He slipped a move
past Gisburne's defenses and stab him in the shoulder. It
was enough to end the fight.
"Retreat!" Gisburne yelled. He ran for his horse, and
Robin let him go. The few remaining mounted soldiers
galloped toward the road, and the ones on foot went
searching for their mounts.
A quick scan of his gang confirmed that no one had died,
and only Will had been injured. Robert was walking back
down the hill, Albion in his hand. Another young man stood
farther down the hill with a blood-covered sword, staring
at a corpse, and Robin recognized him as Robert's
companion. He breathed out heavily in relief and sent a
silent thanks to Herne. Everyone had survived for another
day.
#
Continued ...
