No doubt, the women were a priceless addition to the camp. Men always boasted about their accomplishments doing the important tasks and activities, but if ever there was a skill so scorned and disparaged but yet so vital, it was the intricately fine art of cooking. Never before had Robin looked forward to a meal more than the first morning the women took command of the job.
Robin gratefully took two of the wooden plates, and thanked the woman who had served him. He made his way back to his shelter to bring Duncan his food, anxious for his own. It had been a long time since he had had even semi-good cooking, and even though the meal was very simple, it smelled pretty darn appetizing.
There he was. Walking with the same purposeful, angry stride he seemed to always use. Robin had been watching Scarlett ever since Azeem's lecture, and he had noticed how unusually Scarlett moved. The peculiar young man never strolled, never slowed, never relented, as if he was daring life to try to divert him from his destination. So of course, Robin stepped into his path.
Will faltered, losing his focus momentarily as the self-elected leader of Sherwood blockaded him from reaching the fire and incidentally the food. The young man squared his jaw, halting just a few feet away from Locksley, his brown eyes taunting the taller man. His message was all too clear: "Leave me alone."
He's not my enemy, he's not my enemy, Robin whispered over and over to himself as the brat's wordless taunts reignited his earlier anger. Striving for calmness, he gestured at his crude plate then waved over to the fire. "The ladies have fixed us a truly spectacular feast this morning."
"Naturally. They wouldn't dare serve anything less than brilliant this morning, afraid they'llhave their heads chopped off for failing to please the great noble and knight of Locksley." Will fluttered his arm about theatrically, and finished with a sweeping bow. Will smirked, andquickly brushed past his enemy.
Seething, Locksley stormed after him. With one arm, he viciously shoved the younger man. "What in blazes is your problem, Will Scarlett?"
"Leave me alone, Locksley," Will warned.
"Leave you alone? If I'm not mistaken, you were the one trying to kill me last night!"
"And?"
"And if I'm going to allow you to stay, you better make sure you obey what I tell you from now on and help get some work done building this village!"
"Allow me to stay? I was here before you Locksley."
"I am the leader of this outfit now."
"Self-proclaimed," Will spat the words at him.
"With the approval of every one in this camp, except for you."
Will paused for a second, making sure that the older man would hear his next words. "These are good people, Locksley, and you're only using them to satisfy your own personal vendetta!"
Locksley swept his gaze to the sky in exasperation. "I'm trying to help these people. I'm helping them get back what the Sheriff of Notthingham has pillaged from them!"
"Empty promises, Locksley. The evil Sheriff can pander to a crowd just as easily as you can." Will circled around the noble. "One day, all that you have set in motion will catch up with you, and then you'll turn and run. You'll turn and run." He earnestly repeated as Locksley shook his head to deny it.
Will started backing up a few steps, never losing eye contact with the noble. "And I'll be there to see it." He spun on his heel leaving Locksley staring angrily after him.
Azeem, standing outside his shelter the entire time of the confrontation, ambled up alongside Robin. "Well done, Christian."
Three days later, a coronation of sorts was set to take place, a coronation for the beginnings of what was soon to be a spectacular village in the trees. A few miles from the hidden camp, a monstrous oak had been selected for the ceremony. It was to be chopped down, with the help of all the men of Sherwood, and hauled back to camp, where it would be put to use for all winter. Houses, look-out posts, walkways, firewood, bows, and arrows had to be made ready for every person in Sherwood if they were going to stand a chance against Nottingham.
The celebration was a break from all the back-breaking work they had been busy nonstop with since Locksley had built them into a frenzy. Make no mistake, though, this was not just a relaxing afternoon. Oh no, for the chopping down of the huge tree took strength and skill, and every man who put his hand to the axe was determined to show himself the strongest.
"Well, let's get to it, men," John picked up the two axes that were to be used and carefully tossed one over to Locksley; they were going to begin the fun. John swung first, a hard mighty blow that sliced clean into the tree. Robin was right behind, digging in close to John's mark. John swung again, and Robin once more, before they handed their axes off to the next pair of outlaws. Four blows later, the axes were once again handed off, and with four more blows, Will was handed one axe and Stephen grabbed the other. Stephen had tried hard to convince Will not to take part of the chopping. While his hand was better, Stephen had said, Will would not be able to keep up with the others and would risk injuring it more, possibly for life. But the injured youth had stubbornly refused to heed any and all such advice, and with a hearty grin to Stephen, Will lifted his axe and swung down.
Whack! Will was rewarded with a slice in the tree just as big as the others. Stephen's followed in quick succession, and all too soon they had to release the fun tools to some others.
"Well," he said expectantly, smirking triumphantly as he did so.
"You're still a fool if you ask me." Stephen smiled back.
Many more outlaws took their turns at the tree, and then people started repeating their turns. Stephen took the axe again, alongside Bull this time. Stephen finished the last blow and tossed the handle to Will.
Will stepped forward, and as he did so, Robin of Locksley advanced with the axe Bull had handed to him. There was the briefest moment of silence that worked its way almost magically through the entire congregation standing around. The silence held for an instant, and then Robin pulled back his axe and swung down firmly.
Whack! Will pulled his axe up and swung down just as, no, even harder than Locksley.
Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack!
The outlaws shifted, perplexed; it was past time for the two to end their session, but neither one was relinquishing his axe. The outlaws glanced at each other, and each one at that moment suddenly understood that a battle had begun.
"Come on, Robin!" John yelled at the top of his lungs.
"Get it done, Will!" Stephen cheered in support of his friend.
"Swing it hard, come on now!" All were cheering now, some for Robin, some for Will, most just egging on the contest, with no favorite in particular. The noise was deafening, but exhilarating to both men.
Whack! Whack!
Scarlett pulled the axe back, his arms extended to their fullest, every muscle in his body shifting with exertion as he sharply swerved the direction of the blade and it fell with a satisfying thud into the wood.
Locksley mirrored every movement, the axe almost an extension of his body; he threw his weight into it, dug the axe into the tree, and instantly jerked it out, Scarlett right on his heels.
Will grimaced slightly as the minor shocks from the tree ran up the axe and stung his wounded hand. He pushed the pain away and quickly dug his blade out of the tree. Locksley swung his axe right behind him, but he glanced at Will as he did so, a question evident in his eyes. No matter the competitiveness between the two, Robin's conscience would not let him take advantage of an injured man, even if it was his fiercest opponent in the camp.
Will's hazel eyes met Robin's worried ones, and he paused in his work to give him a sardonic smile.
"Tired already, Locksley?" he quietly scoffed, grabbing his axe with his injured hand and with all his might pounding the blade into the tree.
"Only of your sarcasm," Locksley huffed as he flew down with his own axe, "which I bet is used to disguise fatigue of your own." The roar of the crowd magnified double at this thrust and parry from the rivals.
With crushing force Will threw the his axe into and out of the tree, Robin hurled his in and out, and suddenly their rhythm became quicker, better, faster than ever before. In, out, in, out, in, out, in.
Ferociously they hacked away, wood chips flying around with every slice, creating a swirling, translucent dust storm around the two duelers. The strengths of each one was vividly apparent. Locksley had the muscle; Will, the determination. Each one powerfully chiseled their axes into the tree. Relentless, each one pounded and pounded and pounded their way deeper into the trunk.
Whack! Whack! Whack!
The tree was barely holding on now, the splintering of the wood could be heard. Scarlett and Locksley attacked the remaining wood mercilessly, a surge of adrenaline pumping through each man as they neared victory. The outlaws scurried away, shooing the women and children off to relative safety should something horrible happen once the tree fell. Robin slashed his axe in with all his might. The tree was teetering. One more cut. Will pulled back, slammed the blade forward, slicing clean, deep, and completely through the tree.
"Go!" Robin shouted. They both sprinted back and away from the falling tree, in order to avoid the trunk's "kick" as it careened down and crashed to the ground.
A resounding cheer reverberated throughout the forest. "Yeaaa!"
Several yards away and parallel to each other, Will and Robin were panting with exhaustion, both slightly angled towards the other. Breathlessly, Robin met the other's gaze, and, as if in acceptance of something he had not known before, henodded respectfully. Will, after a moment's hesitation, bowed his head also, each acknowledging the other's stamina and toughness in the grueling fight, before they both headed off (each alone) to join the rest of the outlaws. It was a victory for both; they had each personally endured the contest and felled the gigantic oak.
Will shifted his axe from his right hand to his left, and was startled by the stickiness on the handle. Taking hold of the handle and the blade for a closer inspection, he glanced at his right hand, and saw the blood stained rag. Will gave a brief bark of laughter; he couldn't believe he hadn't felt his hand bleeding. He had felt the slight aching pain, but had easily pushed that out of his mind during the "fight.". He smiled to himself, joining his friend alongStephen'sright side, to keep the hand away from his viewing; he didn't want an I-told-you-so just yet. He was too satisfied right now; he had just proven to Locksley that he was tougher than the rich boy had first imagined.
"Will Scarlett, get over here."
"No, come on now, leave me alone."
"Will Scarlett," Fanny spoke in the threatening tones she only reserved for her naughty children.
"Come on, Fanny," Will laughed, "it's perfectly fine. I can take care of it."
Fanny kept a tight grip on his arm, and half marched/half dragged the protesting youth over to her home. Will kept up his protests, but they were hard to understand since he was laughing the entier time as he was forced to follow the stubborn woman.
"Here we are now," Fanny said happily as she made Will sit down. Bringing a basin of water over, she sat down and took hold of his hand.Untying the rag, shegingerly pulled it away from the sticky wound. "Blimey," she muttered as she cleaned away the blood, "you are a fool, Will Scarlett."
"Yes ma'am," he agreed, smiling.
He had always adored Fanny. Ever since he had first arrived in her village, she had taken him under his wing. Perhaps it was just friendliness that made her look after him, or perhaps she saw the raw hurt that had (and still) radiated from the boy, and her mothering nature instinctively reached out, aching to protect and heal him. Whatever the reason, shehad befriended him from the first, and Will was secretly grateful. Shewas always pestering and lecturing him as she did her own children, and Will would always tease her mercilessly, neither taking any of it seriously. In fact, Will yearned for her lectures and pestering, yearned for that mothering quality about her that his own mother had never acquired, never cared to learn.
"Oww," Will seethed as Fanny worked an ointment into his hand. "You do love to torment, Fanny, couldn't you have at least warned me?"
"Serves you right, you little stubborn fool, going out there and chopping the day away, as if you were as healthy and strong as a knight." She got up and went to get a fresh rag.
"Now, we'll have a look-out post here, and maybe one over there."
"How will they get word down below if they spot trouble? John's voice asked.
"Well, they should be able to spot the enemy far enough away so that they can shout down. But I suppose they can also shoot an arrow down to the center of camp. We also need to get these men learning archery and Azeem should teach them swords." Locksley voice grew fainter as the men walked on by.
"That Locksley, he's almost as stubborn a fool as you, he works way too hard, but, bless my soul, how he has changed this camp around." Fanny took Will's hand again, and gently wrapped the rag around it.
Will scowled. "The rich boy is a fool. He honestly thinks he can lead these farmers to victory against Nottingham's fully trained knights." The exasperation crept into his voice.
"Now, hush you Will Scarlett. Robin o' Locksley has been right good to us since he came here, and he's doing a good job with this camp. I will not allow you to go bad-mouthing him."
"Fanny," Will began.
"No, Scarlett. Robin is the kindest soul I've ever met. A man like him, leaving all he knows to come and help us fight for our rights."
"Exactly." Will cut in, adamant. "A noble, helping out the poorest of all the riffraff in England? Surely you don't believe it.Oh, sure, he'll begin this project and get everyone believing it can be done, but he won't finish it. He doesn't have the guts to finish something he didn't think would be such hard and dirty work. Nobles can't stand anything that gets their hands dirtied." Will spoke with an angry vehemence Fanny had never seen.
"Now, Will—"
"When are you going to learn, Fanny, rich boys don't have the courage or the endurance it takes to survive out here without all their every-day luxuries."
Fanny tied the ends of the rag tightly around the back of Will's hand. Not looking up, she mischievously remarked, "I thought I spotted some endurance on Locksley's part just a while ago, if my memory serves correctly." She looked up at Scarlett, and grinned.
A reluctant smile broke out, and Will turned his head away as a shy blush colored his cheeks. "Oh, all right, I'll give you that." Fanny laughed aloud at Will's discomfort.
"There you are, Will Scarlett, now get out of here," she commanded.