Chapter Seven

Subterfuge

"Been riding hours to meet ya. Sheriff sent me. You can't get a carriage this way, you're gonna have to go up around through Rottsdale."

"What's the matter with these roads?"

Allan's horse stamped uneasily beneath him as its rider nudged it forward to meet the guards at the head of the escorted carriage. "Ruined past Clon onwards, had a carriage overturn just yesterday after it got stuck, killed a horse and all."

"Then we go through the forest, it will save time." The leader turned his horse back, waving to his men before Allan quickly whistled and got his attention back.

"It's faster, yeah. But unless you want your ladyship there to be robbed and left with nothing and the rest of you left for dead? I'd avoid it. Outlaws you know. I'm sure you've heard of Robin Hood."

"Robin who?"

"Robin Hood. Most dangerous outlaw in England. He runs Sherwood, we think he gets more men behind him every day." He held up his right hand, flashing the Sheriff's stolen insignia on his finger clear for them to see. "Rottsdale way is safe."

"Why have we stopped?"

The door of the carriage opened and much to Allan's delight, a dark skinned, elegant woman stepped out, her lips pursed impatiently. She wore a gown of deep red, matching feathers in her raven hair and from her neck to her fingers practically dripped in jewels "Who is this?"

"Larkin Miller, m'lady." Allan lied as smoothly as if it really were his name and dismounted from his horse, exaggerating a low bow in her presence though she was not strictly royalty. "Sir Guy of Gisborne's right hand man and envoy of the Sheriff of Nottingham. May I be so bold, Lady Rose, to say that rumors of your beauty have not at all been exaggerated." It worked, exactly as he had planned and the mistress of Prince John, suitably flattered, smiled and offered her hand for him to kiss. There, on her right ring finger was Prince John's ring, unmistakably extravagant from the rest.

"Then the Sheriff chooses his envoys well."

"My lady, this man insists we take the western road through Rottsdale, it will defer our arrival several hours."

"Then all the better for a grand entrance. If we must go that way, then we must."

"And we cannot allow your ladyship to be jostled so on a ruined way, or your horses to throw shoes."

Allan waited, as the company turned and took the other fork in the road before he mounted his horse and allowed a wide grin to spread over his features, upper lip tickled by the scruffy moustache that desperately needed a trim. Finally, when the last guard was out of sight, he pulled from his pocket the emerald encrusted golden ring that only Lady Rose, and now their own double, would wear.

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"Fustan laenat dayq jiddaan!"

Djaq rattled off in rapid Arabic, lapsing back into her mother tongue as she tended to do when she was frustrated. Since arriving in England a few years ago, she had worn a dress exactly once. Then she had enlisted Marian's help to lace it, but she was not about to ask one of the men, all of whom would have far more difficulty figuring it out than she did. Her arms were beginning to ache where they twisted behind her back as she tugged on the lacings. The gold fabric fell to her ankles, just brushing the leaves on the forest floor and held in place cinched tightly around her waist with a shimmering band that she was struggling to fasten. So it did not too closely resemble the outfit from the Sheriff's gaming night the previous year, she had removed the wrist length golden sleeves so it opened up across her shoulders and bared her arms and replaced them with a length of scarlet fabric that wrapped around the back of her shoulders and pinned with a stolen brooch to her hip.
Painstakingly she had tied up the sections of the black wig Robin had managed to get his hands on in rags overnight, and the curls fell in ringlets down her back and strands of stolen jewellery were woven into them. It had been many years since her hair had been so long.
The whole effect was somewhat more risque than she was comfortable with but it would work.

"Are you sure you're alright in there? Will would be very happy to give you a hand-ouch!" Allan's voice sounded through the door, and she could clearly imagine the glare that Will was shooting him, while someone else chuckled.

"I am fine!" She huffed, at last managing to pull it tight enough and fasten it securely behind her back. This seemed more difficult than it had the last time and she glared down at her own stomach in an accusatory fashion. She wasn't any bigger yet, her stomach still flat and fit as it ever was so why did everything seem tighter already?

The moment she slid open the door and stepped out, suitably dressed to impress, Djaq realised what it must have been that made it feel like it wasn't quite fitting the same way.

Will performed a spectacular double take that might have made her blush if she was feeling any more welcoming to his flirting.

"You...look…" His eyes flickered down and then back up to her hair and she could see in his eyes how actively he was trying not to stare back down below her face again. That was when she realised. It wasn't her stomach that was changing yet. However subtle it seemed to her, there was definitely a reason this dress fit tighter than it had before, and why she seemed suddenly much more exposed. And then the Saracen did blush, and was never more thankful for the darkness of her skin as heat flooded her face and she tried to pull the neckline up a little. It worked, just a little bit, and, regaining her pride she cleared her throat.
"See? Most men."

"Wow. I don't mean to stare or nothing, but...wow." Much's eyebrows practically disappeared into his hair and even Little John's jaw had dropped openly.

"You look nothing like you, well done." Robin grinned and Djaq snorted, very unladylike considering her appearance.

"I am not sure if that's a compliment or not. Can we get moving?"

}}}-l

"I thought we were expecting more of you. Where are the rest?"

"You were. Your roads are riddled with holes so we took the forest way." Clad in armor that differentiated him from the regular palace guards, Robin, purple cap pulled low over his eyes and voice disguised in a thick East London brogue, stepped forward to address the guards on the gate.

"Which was riddled with outlaws. You should consider yourself lucky that her ladyship was not harmed."

"Her ladyship, huh? Lady Rose from London arriving on foot? I hardly think s-"

Djaq swept forward, her lips pressed tight together in her haughtiest expression as she swept forward and held out her hand. Prince John's ring glittered on her finger as she dared them not to allow her entry.

"...Apologies, my lady. They are waiting for you."

Djaq did not speak a word and turned away, striding ahead with her head held high through the portcullis. Behind her, Robin and Will, each hidden behind low tipped hats and false beards, with stolen swords sheathed at their sides, carried a trunk between them. Beneath the layers of dresses, which was really only one spread atop a few rolled up blankets, lay a bow and quiver of arrows.
Nerves flittered through her for a moment as the Sheriff of Nottingham, with his ever loyal lackey close at his heels like an obedient dog, marched down the steps to greet them. They had proven time and time again that their disguises usually worked, and this time she had never looked less like herself and had Prince John's ring as proof. They had no reason to see through this ruse as long as they had never met the real woman.

"Lady Rose, I presume." Vaisey smiled a lecherous smile, his gold tooth glinting in its place. So clearly they had not met in London. His eyes darted first from her face, down her dress and then behind her to the large trunk that her "footmen" carried between them. "Prince John only sent two men with you?"

"My lord, Sheriff...do you not recall that they have a Saracen woman?"

Guy, looking somehow even more miserable and sullen than he usually did, held Djaq's eyes a fraction longer than the Sheriff had. His hair had grown longer, but no less greasy as it hung close to his shoulders and fell in front of his eyes that somehow had the black iris' looking even more beady than ever. The woman did not flinch, she did not even look away to divert his eyes and cast suspicion on her, coldly glaring at the lieutenant she opened her mouth and spoke in a smooth, and very English, accent.

"Saracen? I do not know of whom you are referring, but I can assure you, Sir Guy, that I was born in this country. I am as English as you are and I defy you to accuse me of otherwise. The last earl who made similar remarks met an unpleasant end."

It was something she had secretly practiced for a year, saving it for just such an occasion. The only disappointment was that she could not turn around and see the looks on the faces of her friends. Now who had the silly voice, Will Scarlett?

Suitably chided, Gisborne clenched his jaw and looked away. The Sheriff, more amused than ever at Gisborne's embarrassment, laughed gleefully as Djaq raised her hand and displayed the emerald ring there before smiling as beguiling a smile as she could when the Sheriff bent to kiss her hand respectfully. "Prince John sends his happy returns on your birthday."

"Happy returns, excellent...excellent." Practically bouncing on the balls of his feet, Vaisey chuckled, "And is that all that Prince John sends?"

"Of course not. I think you will be very pleased with his gift. He is most grateful for your services." And in a move that was certain to cement her disguise in their minds, she drew a small scroll tied with a golden ribbon from within her breast, tantalisingly waved it in their faces and returned it to its hiding place. "But birthday presents are traditionally given at the party, yes?"

The Sheriff almost looked like he was about to try and snatch it away, and if she had been anyone other than who she was pretending to be, he probably would have done. As it was he simply smiled through his teeth and dipped his head. "Naturally. Well, you are the last of our guests to arrive so Gisborne, you will escort our guest to her chambers. And then celebrations await in the Great Hall."

The leather clad lieutenant sighed, and with a respectful nod of his head, albeit a thoroughly uninterested expression, offered Djaq his arm. She turned, just the slightest amount under the guise of gesturing for the men to follow her with her "belongings", and tried to quell the smile that played at her lips when she caught Will glaring daggers at Gisborne's back.

"I apologise for my remark. There is a Saracen woman amongst a particular band of outlaws. We cannot be too careful."

"I will forgive your narrow mindedness, though if I am to expect such treatment here, I should suggest you train your soldiers to look at more than just the colour of one's skin." It was almost too easy to maintain a cold expression, though her brain was now focusing more on just translation between Arabic and English to speaking with their accent as well. She removed her hand from Gisborne's arm when he stopped outside a chamber door and whistled for one of the castle guards.

"You will tell Lady Rose the way to the Great Hall when she is prepared."

"Aye, sir."

"Thank you. In the corner." As soon as Gisborne had disappeared around the corner, the guard slipped into her room and closed the door. Unclasping the mesh covering over his face Allan tugged off his helmet and grinned at the others.

"Much is posted in the Great Hall, couldn't have worked out better. And I know some of the rooms his other guests are using."

"Djaq...since whe-how did you…" Robin and Will both wore matching expressions of disbelief as they stared at her and Djaq grinned widely.

"Still think I have a silly voice?"

"Yes, and I still love it. But that was brilliant." And there was the childlike smile that reappeared sometimes as Will dug through the blankets that filled the trunk and handed Robin his quiver and bow before tossing a few empty canvas bags to the others.

A quiet gurgle in her stomach quickly snapped Djaq back to reality and before she could stop herself her hand darted to her belly as she fought within herself to resist the nausea that had already proven it was not unique to the morning.

"You alright?"

"Fine, this dress is just ridiculous, I do not understand how women willingly force themselves into these things. I must go, before they think I take too long. Stick to the plan?"

"Stick to the plan."

They split up. Allan and Djaq in the direction of the Great Hall, while behind them, Robin and Will slipped away to pilfer from the guest chambers of the wealthy before they rendezvoused later.

Feeling not at all like she belonged but making every effort to look the part, Djaq plastered on her proudest expression as Allan, and one of the castle guards opened the double doors for her. Her heeled boots gave her a little extra height, and chin held high with all the airs and graces that she in reality did not possess.
The hall was decorated splendidly with garlands and lush fabric, and candelabras and candle stands scattered throughout lit it quite brightly. It was full of finely dressed people. Lords and ladies from the shires of Nottingham, and further afield that she did not know. They were relying heavily on none of the other arrivals from London knowing the Lady she was posing as well, if one of them knew she was an imposter she would have to get out of there before they could make off with any hoard.
Everyone was laughing and talking spiritedly, eating and drinking without a thought to the starving villagers outside. Gisborne alone was the solitary gloomy figure in the room, blending almost in with the shadows in the corner in which he skulked. Heads turned as she stepped out onto the landing and looked down at them. A few seated gentlemen rose to their feet. The Sheriff, leaning back in his great chair in the centre of the great table, did not rise but lifted a hand in greeting as she made her way down the stairs.

"Ah, my lords and lepers-ladies...the last of our company joins us tonight. From Prince John's court, Lady Rose." He whistled to one of the wine bearers and a moment later, no sooner had her feet stepped off the last step, a goblet of deep red wine was in her hand.

"Thank you."

It took but one minute for her company to be swept away by the Earl of Ventnor, a greying middle aged man with a moustache that almost completely drowned his lips. His velvet cap, plumed with the feather of a hawk, hung half over one eye and she could already smell the wine on his breath.

"Prince John must be pleased with Vaisey's running of Nottingham to send one so...close to him. Might I add that rumours of your beauty do not exaggerate?"

"You might. But you might be a little more original." She smiled as charmingly as she could though fire flickered through her eyes in annoyance when she noticed he had not looked at her face once during that sentence. Had she been Djaq the Saracen in that moment she would have punched him, but she had to be Lady Rose, beguiling and charming. It made it easy work to slip the coin purse from his belt under the guise of laughing at a terrible joke and hide it in the concealed pockets she had carefully sewn into the skirts of her gown.

Feigning boredom with the Earl of Ventnor, she glided about the room, idle chatter that did not interest her in the least with the wives and high born ladies present, and avoiding the lecherous gaze of most of the men, young and old, in the room. Still, it proved her point that a woman could completely alter her appearance far easier than a man.

The long table that spanned almost the whole length of the great hall was piled high with food that she knew would be thrown to the pigs afterwards when it could so easily feed the whole of Nottingham. There was at least five kinds of meat, culminating with the enormous cut of venison in the centre, and enormous wheels of cheese and loaves of bread. Not at all to Djaq's surprise, there was very little in the way of vegetables, save for the occasional tomato and bunches of grapes, the wealthy did not seem to feel the need for any variety in their diet. The men at the camp would only laugh at her when she suggested to Much that he throw in a few berries here and there. Although she had to admit the aroma was divine.
Pitchers of wine floated around the room in the hands of the serving boys and maidens who were ever at work refilling goblets. As she plucked a small bunch of grapes for herself, her eyes drifted to the two guards posted at either side of the doors. Much's scraggly blonde beard nodded at her just the tiniest amount and jerked towards the left. A table had been set aside, piled high with gifts, expensive ones at that. There were rolls of tapestries, which Djaq suspected the Sheriff would find more use out of burning them in the winter, small chests and bags of jewels and one, rather morbid looking ruby encrusted skull. All that finery and it seemed that she held more power with the falsified note that Robin Hood had written.

"Yes, yes, nothing I haven't seen plenty of before."

Vaisey's pompous and rather bored tone made her turn around, the still half full wine sloshing so far in the goblet it splashed out onto her hand. "You did say that tradition dictated gift giving in the celebrations, did you not?"

"I did. But Prince John was very specific in his instructions, and I do not think you would wish me to disobey him."

"No…" There was clearly no effort made to hide the frustration behind his smile.

She picked up a lone ring and examined it before placing it back down and looking pointedly at the serving boy that walked past conveniently at that moment.
"I should cover that if I were you. Such treasures are a temptation in the sight of...the less fortunate. If the look of your servants are any indication you will find yourself a few coins short by the end of the night."

The irritation was quickly replaced by alarm as the Sheriff followed her gaze and, suitably alarmed at the prospect of losing his valuable wealth, snapped his fingers harshly at the guards that was really Much. "You! Cover that up. And watch those wine boys."

Before Djaq could invent another excuse to pickpocket some unsuspecting noble, she was swept away into, to her great displeasure, the seat directly opposite the Sheriff. It felt wrong, even in disguise to sit and dine and laugh with these people whom they fought every day to evenly distribute the wealth of.
Amidst a bite of venison, which was suddenly far more delicious than she usually found it, Djaq darted her brown eyes up. Unsavoury though her company may be, the position offered her the right vantage point to keep one eye on the door. She caught sight of Much's hand reaching behind him where she knew he was knocking the agreed signal on the door. One minute past, then two and then the door was opening and two servants shuffled in, carrying between them another small table.

"What? What are you looking at?"

Thinking quickly, and still fully forming the thought in her head even as she spoke, Djaq stood so fast it made her head spin and effectively turned both Vaisey and Gisborne's heads back to her.
"It is unheard of that we wait so long to toast to your health." A few curious glances along the table turned her way, perhaps surprised that a woman, and one of her stature no less, should propose that. Still, one by one the guests all stood and raised their glasses, and with an exaggerated sigh, Gisborne did too. Vaisey alone stayed seated, leaning back with the air of a king in his throne and gold tooth glinting in the candle light.

"To Sheriff Vaisey of Nottingham!"

"To me!"

Over her wine, Djaq chanced another brief glance toward the door and allowed herself to relax as they swung closed again and Much positioned himself once more in front of the door.

Another hour dragged by, made all the more uncomfortable by the Duke seated to her right whose hand kept lingering on her leg despite the repeated slaps. In contrast to the cold of the woods they were so used to, the heat in the room was nearly stifling, the sheer volume of people coupled with the tightness of her gown that she wore and the hot food was becoming increasingly stuffy the longer she stayed. Hungry as she had been, the now familiar feeling was beginning to well up in her stomach. She needed to get out soon, before she could not suppress the urge to be sick any longer. In a herculean effort to remain in control she clenched her eyes closed and gripped the golden fabric tightly around her knee, this was not the time. That little being that she still hadn't fully accepted was growing inside her, had terrible timing.

"My lady? Are you quite well?"

Her eyes shot open. It was Gisborne, whose brow was furrowed in concern, who had spoken.
Movement at the top of the stairs caught her words before she could speak, and as quickly as they had flickered up, she shot her eyes back to Guy.
"Perfectly. I have a headache. But now…" She paused and once again drew the falsified note that the Sheriff so desperately wanted to get his hands on back from its hiding place. "With Prince John's highest compliments…"

Vaisey straighted up in the chair right away and gleefully smiled as she finally handed it over. He paid no attention as Djaq rose from her chair, but Gisborne did. His eyes followed her as she moved away from the table and started towards the stairs. Perhaps he was not so much a fool as he once had been.

"Wait."

Djaq paused, and turned slowly to watch the expression change on the rotten Sheriff's face.

Vaisey,

You have proven yourself a loyal ally to my cause. I thank you for your service and offer you one singular promise.

However, you may have expected it to be a promise of your own choosing. It is not.
You failed in your mission in the Holy Land.

Should you fail me again, it is my promise that you shall deeply regret it.

The gleeful grin steadily faded into an enraged grimace, his face lost a little colour and for the first time Djaq watched genuine fear flicker over the Sheriff's face for just a moment. Robin had written well.

"It is not signed."

"Turn it over, it is signed."

He did, and it was. Instead of the royal seal, they had unabashedly decided to sign with their own symbol. Then the fear faded, and the Sheriff shot to his feet as realisation dawned on him.
"Guard! Grab her!"

"My lord, I told you!"

"Shut up, Gisborne! She's alone!"

Feigning fear, Djaq made a run for the stairs and straight into a guard. He seized her, spinning her around and pinning her to him with an arm over her chest and sword at her neck.

Breathing quickly Djaq summoned all of the saliva she could and spat the moment the Sheriff got close enough.

Undeterred, the cruel man reached up and tore the wig from Djaq's head. There was a quick sound of footsteps from above her, and a hurried shush that she hoped only she had heard.

"Well, well…oh you thought faking a headache would get you out in time to meet your little friends…Tut. Tut."

An arrow whistled overhead, close enough between Gisborne and the Sheriff to slice a lock of hair from Guy and make them both leap back swearing. A second arrow pinned Gisborne's right sleeve to the table before he could draw his sword and Robin leapt onto the bannister. Gasps and shouts from the guests rang through the room, all unarmed and too frightened to do a thing.

"Well you ruined my birthday! I thought we should return the favour."

"Oh forget the hostage, just kill the girl already! Kill-she's smiling, Gisborne she's smiling! Why are you smiling?"

She wasn't just smiling, she was grinning. She had a sword to her neck and yet Djaq was grinning. "You really need to check your guards more thoroughly." She smirked, the false English accent dropping away just as the sword did and Much pushed up his visor.

Sweeping her skirts up over her knee, Djaq tugged the longknife from the sheath she had strapped to her leg and slowly she and Much started to step backwards up the stairs.

"We're going to leave now, Sheriff...and you are going to stay in this room until someone out there wakes up to let you out."

The arrow that had pinned Gisborne's hand to the table, clattered to the floor and he drew his sword, starting after them only to be stopped by a second sword digging into his back.
"I wouldn't do that, mate."

The lieutenant let out an almost animalistic growl and rounded on Allan, who had dropped his helmet now, with a ferocious glare. "I am going to enjoy killing you in particular."

"Feeling's mutual, Guy."

One by one they backed up the stairs. Robin's perfect aim alternated between the Sheriff and his right hand man until his men were securely at the top of the stairs.

"Oh. And enjoy your pork."

"Pork-po-there's no pork-" All eyes in the room went to the covered gift table in the corner and just as Will and John barricaded the doors from the outside, an angry scream of obscenities came from within.