It was a quiet group that set out that morning. The Friar and Azeem drove the cart full of barrels of Azeem's concoctions. The others could have ridden on the wagon, but for some reason they all preferred to walk. Perhaps they wanted to perfect their roles and riding in the cart was not a part of their individual disguise and so they wouldn't allow themselves the luxury. Or maybe they just wanted to work off some of the nervous energy that was filling up in each of them.

When they reached the edge of the forest they came to a halt. Here was where they all parted: they would be a mighty conspicuous bunch otherwise. Now was the time when one of them would be the first to enter through the gates of Nottingham. If he could make it then most likely everyone else could, since he was the one who would most likely be recognized—well, with one exception of course.

"I'll be fine, Robin," Will reassured the now almost overprotective elder brother. Robin clapped him on the shoulder in response and smiled his encouragement, knowing Will didn't want to hear any more from him. The others offered their good lucks and then Will was off. Bull would be next, then Fanny, Robin, and John. Then the Friar and Azeem (disguised in a leper's concealing garments) would come in last, so hopefully none of the soldiers would have time to move the barrels of Azeem's concoction that the two would scatter about.

Will walked and walked. With his wounds bandaged and his mind (relatively) at peace, the trip back to Nottingham seemed much shorter than the one to Sherwood Forest, and in no time at all, he reached the castle. For a second, he stood still, every fiber of his being screaming at him to go back to safety, not to rush back into death's eagerly awaiting jaws. Why would he want to do something that ridiculous? But nevertheless, he was going to do it. They all were. Gathering his courage, Will pulled up his hood and strode through the gates, just an innocent villager wanting some excitement.

"No blades, no bows!"

Scarlett nonchalantly pulled out a dagger and tossed it into the pile. He was allowed on. As he made his way into the village square he breathed a sigh of relief and a quiet word of thanks to Azeem, who had pointed out that even though they weren't allowed to have weapons, not bringing them would only throw unneeded suspicion on them. So before he left, Will had picked up a spare dagger, because there was no way he was giving up his own, no matter how right Azeem was. He had left his back at the camp.

Will was now inside the public square. All that was left now was to wait and pray that the others made it inside. He waited. And waited. Then a Celt appeared—Bull. A few minutes later, and then Fanny made her way through. Will tried not to be conspicuous as he watched her progress out of the corner of his eye. She had made it up to the top of the castle's wall, which had a long and and wide walkway for travel to the tower turrets.

Come on, hurry up, he wanted to scream at Fanny. But instead he waited until finally she pulled up a bundle of firewood over the wall. She sent the rope back over (to get John) and then she turned her attention to the bundle. Now, Will walked casually the few yards it took to get him in position. He slouched against the wall though, so no one would look at him.

With a slight thunk the two swords she dropped imbedded into the ground. He left his position and walked purposefully with his head up. Parallel but from the opposite direction was Bull the Celt. At the same moment, they reached down and plucked one of those swords from the ground and continued on. Will thought it was the longest moment of his life, but the incident had actually taken only a couple of seconds to perform, and it worked perfectly. No one had seen them, he was sure. The weight of the sword felt good resting on his side, and a ripple of anticipation danced through him as he walked closer to the scaffold. He would finally be able to use the skills Azeem had taught him.

Speaking of Azeem, he and the Friar were just leaving the scaffold as Will made his way through the crowd. He saw with satisfaction that they had been able to place one of the barrels up there. So far, everything was going well. And then the drums beat.

They were led out one by one, flung onto the scaffold and the noose loosely tightened around their necks. Three, four, five men now, they were all a footstool away from death. A vague feeling of unease crept through Will as the men filed past him. He wasn't quite sure why until he saw Fanny's boy being shuffled through the gates. Quickly Will ducked his head, hoping they boy wouldn't see him. No such luck.

The moment Wulf's eyes alighted on the other a myriad of angry expressions flitted across his face. Will shook his head, his mouth forming the word no, trying to warn the boy off, but of course Wulf didn't listen to him. The boy leapt onto Will, who tried desperately to back away. But the crowd was too dense and tightly packed. With the crowd throwing off his balance, when Wulf leapt on top of him, he tumbled to the ground.

Instantly the guards were upon them. No, no! Stupid, stupid boy! Will was cursing to himself. He'd gotten them all hanged now.

"What's going on? Bring him here!" the sheriff demanded from above. The guards began to drag him forward. That was when the panic started in. He didn't want to die. He also didn't want to let down any of the others, a quite noble notion, but he dang sure didn't want to die. If he had been left in that rotting dungeon with no hope for mercy or rest and the only way to live was to betray his ideals, sure maybe he would be as willing to face the noose as all the others. But having gotten that taste of freedom and found a plan of escape for all of them, the prospect of dying without even the dignity of a glorious fight was too much to bear. He clawed against the hands swarming around, but they resolutely led him onward to the Sheriff. He was on his knees, his head held up by an unrelenting grip that pulled at the roots of his hair.

"Oh, the turncoat. Did you succeed?"

Uhhhh.

"Well, I found his lair but he was already dead."

"Are you sure? You saw Hood's body?"

Yes, Will, yes, Robin prayed, watching the scene unfold from his hidden spot on top of the wall.

Come on, Will, yes, yes, Azeem thought fervently from a similar location.

Say yes, Fanny pleaded.

Yes, just say yes, Will screamed to himself.

"No,"

WHAT! Four minds, including Will's, screamed in unison.

"I-I saw a grave." Did I really just say something that stupid? Come on, Will, you made your whole life a lie, why can't you do this?

"We found this on him." One of the soldiers held up his sword. The sheriff raised an eyebrow questioningly at the turncoat.

Uhhhh.

Will gave a half grin, trying for a look of innocence.

"String him up with the others!"

No! Will struggled but the frenzied crowd lifted him off the ground and carried him up to the platform. Once up there, the hangman grabbed him and dragged him over to be strung up. But there wasn't another noose to be found. Derisive laughter dripped among the crowd at this realization.

"My Lord, it appears there's no more room. I'm afraid that I must respectfully decline!" With that announcement the hangman yanked him by the neck and forced his head down on a barrel, tying him securely around one of Azeem's barrels—the main barrel that was to aid them in their rescue attempt that was rapidly deteriorating into a disaster.

"There's always room for one more!" the hangman sneered after he finished tying the outlaw up.

Will swore to himself. Can't I just keep my mouth shut?

The drums once again chanted their dreadful beat, droning for an eternity and then there was silence. Will couldn't see a thing from his position but then he heard the clatter of an overturned stool and a gasp for breath. The voice that choked was young—that meant Wulf.

This fact was confirmed for Will when he heard the frantic cries of John. There were shouts, a twang, and then a thud as something hit the ground. The entire crowd gasped as one. Will tried to twist around to see what had happened, but he couldn't move at all.

"Robin!" he heard Marian cry. An explosion ripped through the castle, throwing chunks of debris everywhere. Azeem had ignited one of the other barrels; boy was it effective. Confusion was rampant everywhere and Will watched proudly and hopefully as Robin swung into view, battling and defeating several soldiers. That's my brother, he thought proudly. And then he felt the cool touch of an extremely sharp blade settle against his neck.

Will drew in a breath. His eyes found Robin's and he thought regretfully of all the times he had missed that he had thought he had gained back. It seemed now they were going to be gone forever. The unjustice of it all made Will angrier than he had ever been in his life, but he couldn't do anything! The end was only a few precious seconds away. He kept his eyes on Robin, wanting to say goodbye to the one family member he had. His own gaze was that of futility, but Robin's shone with a desperate determination. Despite himself, Will grew hopeful again, even as he felt the blade lift off his neck. Robin pulled a flaming arrow from a dead soldier's back and took aim. Will closed his eyes as he felt the man behind him shift his weight and bring the blade down.

Thud. The arrow collided and destroyed the man's face. Robin ran to his brother and quickly began to untie him.

"Watch out!" Will yelled. Robin had only just finished untying Scarlett, but instantly he reacted to the warning. He pulled Will away from the barrel just in time to avoid the imbedding of an axe into his skull by another soldier. Robin kicked the soldier, and then Will leapt upon the soldier, letting Robin run to find Marian. He punched the man a solid blow and then he jumped to his feet, ready for a real fight, until he remembered. And once again, I lost my sword.

"Robin!" Marian screamed as the Sheriff whisked her away. Robin ran after her, but stopped short as a loud cry pierced the air.

Azeem had been studying the situation and knew the outcome was bleak. Even with the ten additional men, there was absolutely no chance for them to overthrow the sheriff and win the battle for justice for which they had so long been fighting. The only sure way to victory was to get the commoners to rise up with them.

"English! English!" he yelled, satisfied to see the whole square freeze and look up at this strange man. "I am Azeem Edin Bashir Al Bachrim! I am not one of you, but I fight. I fight with Robin Hood! I fight against the tyrant who holds you under his boot! If you want to be free men, then you must fight! Join us now! Join Robin Hood!"

The people were listening to him. Despite his ancestry as a cursed Moor, the common English heard the truth in his words and responded with equal and heartfelt honesty of their own. As the promise of a new life, a life of freedom, entered their thoughts, cries echoed around the square. Everywhere, the people were rising up and grabbing whatever they could as weapons. A mass of people joined Robin and Will at the gate. They tried to pull the gate up, but it would take too long and Marian was in danger now. Robin shoved his way out of the crowd. As he looked desperately around, his eyes alighted on something and a surge of hope went through him. Robin yelled for his followers to come help him. Will joined the men as they pushed the deadly instrument that had just a few days ago been used—with great effectiveness—against them. Robin jumped up on the pad that had thrown the balls of flame that had wiped out their village. Azeem sheathed his sword and claimed his own seat.

"Is she worth it?" Azeem asked.

"Worth dying for?" Robin smiled and nodded; Will had no idea what they were talking about, but it wasn't his business to know. His business was

"Will!" Robin yelled. Instantly, Will clamped down on the lever. The seat was propelled forward, fantastically and powerfully quick, and Robin and Azeem flew into the air, over the wall, and safely—albeit clumsily—in a pile of hay. Will shook his head in disbelief and stood dumbfounded for an instant but he had another job to do. He swallowed hard. Now he would have to use that seat and fly into the sky, something he really wasn't looking forward to doing.

Just then a roar of triumph filled the square. Turning, Will saw the commoners had succeeded in pulling the gate up. Hallelujah. He ran through all those swarming their way into the castle, and entered the castle with hardly any opposition. Which was good, he suddenly remembered, because he still didn't have a sword. He swiveled around, and was grateful to see a Celt dispensing with one of Nottingham's soldiers.

"Bull!" he shouted. Bull heard him and began to meet the other, but then he stayed where he was when he saw Scarlett gesturing him to do so. The other rushed over, grabbed the sword of the fallen soldier, and then straightened.

"Thanks," he murmured just before he tore off again. He ran through the castle, searching desperately for Noah, fear aiding his feet to fly faster than he had ever gone before. The Sheriff couldn't have killed the children, all those little children, he couldn't have. He just couldn't have.

"Noah!" Will yelled at the top of his lungs. There was no reply.

"Noah!" He raced through the castle. When he reached a stairway he bolted up to the second level.

"Noah!" he cried again, racing down the halls and banging on the doors. Come on, kid, answer me! At that moment, a cry sounded. Will ran in the direction of the voice, the adrenaline pumping even faster as he knew he was close.

He opened his mouth to call out again, but just then a soldier rushed at him, sword held high. Will barely had time to pull out his own before the man was on him. They clashed and clanged for several deadly moments, but the other wasn't that good. He wasn't all that good. He wasn't—Will frowned—all that—ow! Will winced as the other's blade nicked skin. Not good. Time to end this, Will.

With all his strength and in one smooth motion, he knocked the other's sword aside and sliced him across the belly, just as Azeem had taught him so many months ago. Quickly he finished the soldier off. He stepped around the fallen body, panting heavily as he caught his breath. That had been a little to close for comfort.

"Hello? Help us!" a voice shouted, muffled, though, by the heavy oak door. Will ran to the door, where the cry had issued, found it locked, and rushed back to the dead guard. He removed the keys, and then struggled to fit them in the lock. Finally one of them slipped in, and Will pushed the door open to see—

A little girl. Scarlett visibly deflated at not seeing the person he had wanted desperately to see, but then he squared his shoulders. He should help this little girl too. Noah was still alive somewhere, he told himself. He stepped inside.

And fell to his knees as something crashed into his shoulder.

"Ahh!" he gasped at both the pain in his shoulder and the wounds across his stomach as they were stretched beyond their limits. He sprung up as fast as he could, his hand pulling out his sword as he turned to face his attacker. Or really, his attackers. The three little boys had hopped onto each others' shoulders, the two other girls steadying them, with Noah at the top of the human ladder with a chair above his head. He had just been walloped by a bunch of kids. The bunch of kids he was trying to rescue.

"Noah…" Will muttered.

"Sorry, Will."

I am so sorry it took me this long to update. I have no excuse, it was just plain laziness and I'm awful sorry, please forgive me. And please don't let this stop you from reviewing! Thank y'all all for your patience with me, you're wonderful!