Robin lay face down unconscious on the floor inside the sheriff's bed chamber. The sheriff, Gisbourne, and many castle guards surrounded his body, while the sheriff's birds, all robins now, twittered in their cages.
"Let me kill him now," Gisbourne snarled. "Forget the assassin. Why pay someone, when I'll take pleasure doing it for free?"
"Because, Gisbourne," the sheriff answered, "I want to take pleasure as well." Eyeing Robin's tight little bottom, he said, "Ooooo! This is good! This is good!"
Gisbourne grimaced, sick to his stomach.
"I want to enjoy Hood's suffering," the sheriff continued. "And I WANT MY PACT BACK! I have a plan."
"With respect, milord, your plans have failed regarding Hood. He should have been dead many times over."
"Due to your incompetence, Gisbourne, not mine! But this time, they will not fail. Your distraction isn't here anymore. She's run away. Strike a nerve, did I, Gisbourne, hmmm? Do I care? A clue...no."
"What is your plan?"
The sheriff grew excited. "I am going to let Robin Hood go!" Laughing at Gisbourne's reaction, he continued. "Not so fast, Gisbourne. That's just the end of my plan. First, I will cage him."
"Then let's take him to the dungeons. Guards!"
"Don't interrupt, Gisbourne. You remind me more and more of a woman! No. His merry little band of outlaws will be expecting that. He is bait, to catch them."
"We don't need to catch them. Once he's dead, they are nothing."
"You're missing my point, Gisbourne. I want to watch Robin Hood watch his friends die, one by one. I'll save the one he loves best for last. That would be his little Mulch, Lord of Bonchurch. But first, I'll kill the Saracen woman. She's trickey, with her magic. She's really the only one we need to worry about. But as to the rest? Ask your boy whom we should kill next. The big brute or the tall Locksley boy with the barely there mustache?"
"Milord, you are risking Hood escaping."
"Not this time, Gisbourne. But I haven't outlined my plan yet. I told you I'd cage Hood. Well, take a look at this!"
The sheriff pulled a black cloth off a large object, revealing a human-sized birdcage, the same one he'd used to display his money before Hood had shot through the sacks, scattering coins and escaping.
"It's escape proof, Gisbourne. But just to be sure little Robin Redbreast here can't fly away, not to mention shoot his little bow and arrows, I'll break his pretty little collarbone."
The sheriff dropped on one knee beside Robin, wrenching his prisoner's shoulder until he heard a crack.
Robin awoke instantly, crying out in pain.
"Oh, this is good!" the sheriff crowed. "The poetry of pain. GUARDS!"
Robin fought fiercely, but was vastly outnumbered and weakened by his broken bone. Four meaty guards soon had control over him, shoving him into the sheriff's new birdcage, and locking its door.
"Oooh!" the sheriff cooed. "This one might be the prettiest little bird I've ever had under my control! Here you are among your feathered friends, Locksley. Don't worry. Gisbourne here will clean your cage, once a week. Enjoy your new home."
Whistling a merry tune, he turned and strutted from his room, followed by Sir Guy, leaving the guards. "And one more thing, Gisbourne," he continued. "We're paying people to come and spit on, mock, and otherwise show derision toward Hood. Hire some of the rabble who live under the bridge leading into Nottingham. Can't you just see Hood's reaction when the people he thinks love him best turn on him? What's that? A tear, rolling down his pretty little cheek? Let me kiss it away."
"I still believe we should kill him."
"That's because you have no imagination!"
"You said you are going to let him go!"
"Oh, yes. I thought you'd come back to that. Since your head's so thick, I'll explain, Gisbourne. Locksley is going to watch me release a robin, day by day, and see it killed by my falcon. Then, when I let him go, he'll know he has no hope. He'll make mistakes. That's when my assassin will strike."
Gisbourne hated the plan. He felt he needed to take matters into his own hands, kill Hood himself, and blame it on someone else...Allan, if necessary.
...
After delivering the three boys to their families, Marian rushed breathlessly back to the outlaw camp.
Much was cooking. "Oh, hello, Marian," he said, cheerfully. "You're back. What's that on your neck? Something bit you! Djaq! Marian needs medicine for an insect bite...a big one! Where's Robin?"
Marian's hand flew to her throat, covering the mark left by Robin's kiss. "Captured!" she told him. "The sheriff's got him. We have to go to Nottingham...now!"
