Land Ahoy!
The English Channel was calm, it's gently undulating surface glittering under the late summer sun. The sky was a bright, cerulean expanse above, stretching endlessly in all directions, interspersed with the occasional scrap of cloud that scudded lightly overhead.
Robin Hood leant against the side rail of the hulk, looking out onto the sea around them. The huge ship cut easily through the smooth waters, the hint of a high easterly breeze catching the square sail and urging it on.
Robin's hair, the colour of aged mahogany, curled over the collar of his forest green hooded tunic and fell low on his forehead, dancing lightly on his brow in the slight wind, and he brushed a few strands from his blue eyes. He was in a pensive mood. There was much to plan, yet first, he and his gang had to make it safely to Calais. Once they were on dry land, he would be able to think more clearly.
He recalled the events of the past fortnight, flicking through some of the memories quickly, while lingering on others. It seemed like an age ago since he had proposed to his love, Lady Marian of Knighton, at Filey Manor. Her acceptance, which he had secretly expected, was nevertheless one of the happiest moments of his life, and they had both been buoyed up with joyful anticipation for their future together. Robin had known that they were destined to be together since childhood. Even after he left for the Holy Land to fight in the crusades, and they had parted on such bad terms; when they had spoken such harsh words to each other, and Marian had ended their betrothal, distraught at the thought of him choosing war over her; despite the dalliances Robin had partook in during the five years away, as any red-blooded young nobleman would; throughout all of this, his love and desire for her had not diminished. To have her by his side as his wife was all he had ever wanted.
Upon returning to England two years ago, it had taken him some time to win her over again, but now, they were in a good place, and his dreams were finally coming to fruition. Or so he had thought. It was after she had left Filey for Nottingham without him that things had taken a nosedive.
Robin sighed and rested his forearms along the rail, looking down at the deep blue sea. Sunlight sparkled on the subtle waves, and, in the distance, he spotted a pod of porpoise, their fins curving out of the water rhythmically as they headed further out to sea, in perfect formation. Life seemed so simple out here when the weather was like this. But Robin had encountered storms and whirlwinds on his travels, and he would no more trust the sea than he would the Sheriff of Nottingham.
It was the Sheriff who had thwarted Robin's plans, as well as those of his close friend, Allan A Dale, and Robin's younger sister, Roana. Robin and Marian's relationship wasn't the only one that was going from strength to strength. Since Robin and Roana had reunited earlier in the year, there had been many changes in the lives of those Robin knew and loved. Allan, formerly a cheeky yet charming philanderer with a propensity for stretching the truth, was now one of the most trustworthy men Robin knew, thanks to Roana's influence. It was amazing what love could do to a fellow, and it was this that kept both Robin and Allan going in the face of the obstacles before them.
Marian and Roana, along with Roana's former maid, Alice, had been imprisoned by the Sheriff and taken with him on his journey across Europe, where he intended to intercept King Richard and kill him. The war for Jerusalem had reached a truce, and troops had been withdrawn from the Holy Land some weeks ago. But evil forces at home were working against Lionheart, and, if his younger brother, Prince John, had anything to do with it, Richard would not reach English shores alive.
Enter Robin and his gang. The responsibility that lay on their shoulders was immense, but the reward for England, as well as themselves if they were successful, was far-reaching. Robin was determined to achieve success, and rescue the three women as well as the king. And then, upon Richard's safe return to England, the country would once again be safe under his ruling hand, the Sheriff and Prince John would be punished for their crimes, Robin and his gang would receive full pardons, and Robin could marry Marian as a free man.
But, first of all, Robin needed to find the Sheriff, which could potentially be a quest all of its own. He and his convoy had a two-day head on Robin and the gang, and could be in Belgium by now, or even further. Robin had confirmation that Duke Leopold of Austria was working with Prince John, and so it would make perfect sense for the Sheriff to be heading for Austria. Surely it wouldn't be too difficult to track down a small convoy of guards, black knights, and prisoners travelling through four European countries, with a short but very loud tyrant at their helm.
Robin didn't know, but he would certainly try his hardest.
High above, a lone seagull wheeled, tiny in the vast sky. Robin glanced at it, and then to his right, where a darker line had appeared on the horizon; they were approaching land.
"Land hoy!" came a cry behind him.
Robin pushed himself off the railing and stood up straight, his chest fizzing with anticipation. The sooner they were on solid ground, the better.
He experienced a sudden wave of sadness and nostalgia as he thought of Much. It didn't seem right, being here without him. Robin couldn't remember a time when Much hadn't been by his side. They had been together since childhood, when the miller's son had arrived to work at Locksley Manor when Robin was eleven. By the time he turned twelve, Much was his manservant, but Robin had always seen him more as a friend than anything else. A brother, even. They had been through so much together. Becoming men, discovering girls. Fighting beside King Richard. Returning to England and being outlawed. Much had stuck with him through everything, even after Robin had released him from his duties. And now, he was...
Robin dashed a hand across his eyes and swallowed uncomfortably. The sight of Much lying in a puddle of his own blood, with an arrow protruding from his torso, would be forever branded on Robin's mind's eye. He knew that he had taken Much for granted over the years, and he wished to God that he hadn't. That he had never told Much how important he was to him until he was at death's door was something that would play on Robin's mind for a long time. He vowed to be more vocal with his feelings in the future.
"Robin."
He started at the sound of his name being uttered, and quickly wiped his eyes with his fingers before turning to see Brother Tuck, the brown-skinned monk who had recently joined Robin in his battle against the Sheriff. Tuck was an invaluable member of the gang, especially on this expedition, as he had travelled Europe extensively and would help guide them through a strange land.
The monk wasn't fooled. He was a shrewd yet sensitive man, with a rambunctious sense of humour and a great love of ale - so far, a great asset to the gang. He also understood and accepted the intricacies of man's mind. It was only normal that Robin would be grieving his loss.
Glancing briefly at Robin's reddened eyes, Tuck reached out to place a friendly hand on his shoulder. "Come. We are almost at Calais. We must prepare the horses."
Two days before, the sea hadn't been quite as calm, and had matched the churning in Roana's stomach and her heart. Although the sky had been cloudless and azure in colour over Portsmouth, out at sea, it had quickly clouded over, and the ship fought against the surging waves, rising and dipping with inexorable regularity.
Imprisoned in a small room below deck, Roana and her companions, Marian of Knighton and Alice Moody, could not witness the turn in the weather, but they experienced every bit of the increased and erratic motion as the huge hulk was buffeted by the strength of the waves as if it were a scrap of parchment. Roana, usually a lot hardier, had found herself overwhelmed by seasickness, and had continued retching long after the contents of her stomach had been purged. A sailer's life was most certainly not for her, and she longed for dry, steady land.
Once they had finally reached the port of Calais after a long and tumultuous journey, Roana had been so weak that she had allowed the hated William of Bridlington to help her from the ship without a fight, and she and the other women were bundled into a carriage, hurriedly bought from a local French nobleman after their own had been left behind at Portsmouth during the outlaws failed ambush.
Marian and Alice sat on either side of Roana in the carriage, sensing her anguish. Marian held her hand tightly, while Alice attempted to untangle her tangled waves, deep brown shot through with red and golden hues, and clean the specks of vomit from the ends. Roana placed her head on Marian's shoulder and slept for a short while, waking as they crossed the border into Belgium.
It was amazing how close the three women had grown over the space of a week; close enough to communicate without words. Roana and Marian had been friends since childhood, growing up in and around the villages of Locksley and Knighton, and in Sherwood Forest, yet only reconnecting in recent months, while Alice had been Roana's constant companion since they were both twelve, up until recently, when the former maid had fallen in love with Sir Guy of Gisborne and Roana had joined her brother's outlaw gang in Sherwood.
Having been thrown into Nottingham Castle's dungeons together a week ago, and then transported from fortress to fortress in an attempt to avoid a staged rescue by the outlaws, during which they had faced and triumphed against a number of traumatic situations, a bond had formed between the three women that was unbreakable. On such an unpredictable journey, they had only each other to rely on.
Lulled by the stability of the carriage and Alice's fingers, sweeping gently through her hair, Roana woke after her short nap in a much more relaxed state. Her small, heart-shaped face was wan and streaked with dried tears, but she was slowly gathering control of herself again. She rubbed a hand over her cheeks and sighed deeply.
Marian squeezed her hand. "I just can't believe Much is..," she whispered, haltingly, then pressed her lips together.
Roana's breath caught in her throat as another wave of grief rolled over her, catching her unawares. She had a flashback to the events on Portsmouth harbour, when Allan and Robin had tried so desperately to rescue them from their carriage. Bridlington and his cronies had intercepted their plans and dragged the girls away, while the outlaws rushed forward to bravely fight off the guards. And then, the black knights had attacked.
The black knights were an elite and secret group of ex-soldiers, formed by Prince John to assassinate his brother, King Richard, trained in all aspects of combat. Four of them had lined up, longbows raised, arrows nocked, and fired in perfect unison. Roana recalled in vivid detail the exact moment the arrow had hit Much in his chest, and his strangled cry of pain before he had fallen to the ground, unmoving. Eve's tortured scream and the look of anguish in Robin's eyes were more than Roana could bear. Allan's expression of intense pain as he had looked from his fallen friend to his lost love, watching with stricken eyes as Roana was forcefully taken from him yet again, almost broke her heart.
Roana was immersed again in deep sorrow. She seemed to be made up of uncontrollable feelings at the moment, ricocheting from emotion to emotion with no hope of salvation. For someone who was generally strong and in control, it was strange and frustrating to be a slave to her feelings, but her situation was so unusual and unpleasant. She had never been captured and imprisoned before, or attacked by lust-filled men, escaping only through pure luck and physical harm. Or been forcefully separated from her love. Or witnessed one of her oldest friends take an arrow to the chest.
Roana had no idea how Much had fared as, within minutes of him being hit, she, Marian, and Alice had been bundled onto the ship, which had immediately weighed anchor and steered out of the harbour. But from what Roana had seen in the brief moment before William had dragged her below deck did not bode well for Much's wellbeing. There had been a lot of blood, and he had appeared lifeless.
She couldn't blame the men for choosing to rush to Much's aid in favour of rescuing them. She had seen the agony of indecision in Allan's eyes. She knew that he would have risked his own life for her in a heartbeat, but he needed to be there for Robin. Roana knew that her brother would be devastated about Much. They had been together for so long, brothers in arms. Robin would need his gang around him while he adjusted to life without his best friend, if the worst had indeed happened.
She hoped that it hadn't, but she had an awful feeling in the pit of her stomach.