Within a week, Gisbourne had officially taken up residency in Nottingham castle, under the patronage of the Sheriff. It would seem that the Sheriff had a right hand man. And a clever one at that.
Robin was clearly not overjoyed with the news. But Allen noted that Marian was always rather vague on the subject. She became awfully nervous whenever Allen brought up Nottingham's newest arrival. He tried to visit her as much as possible when he found himself near the castle. It had been a long year and he had missed his friend. It was also common knowledge that she grew bored on her lonesome and this often led to trouble. Leon always accompanied him whilst Robin was clearly not invited. This made for perfect cover to discuss their forthcoming plans.
Robin found other ways to amuse himself. Allen was initially surprised when he saw their new and improved wanted posters. Robin had seemingly seen fit to run around all of Nottingham with an inkwell, true to his word. It seemed that the town had found itself two new outlaws; The Lord of Improvisation and Lord of Sarcasm.
But Allen was simply glad for the distraction, as menial as it seemed.
Robin had been none too pleased with the idea of Allen and Leon travelling to Derby by themselves. He was fine with the idea of dropping off spoils to the people of the town but wished for more outlaws to go. Leon had constantly asserted that they would run into new trouble. He knew the lands like the back of his hand. And the new Lord who had been sent to manage his estates was a portly old buffoon. Eventually Robin had swayed but hardly willingly.
Leon refused to tell Allen of his plans, claiming that he did no wish for his friend to be let down if things did not go according to plan. But Allen had faith in his friend.
The pair had been granted horses from a trusted source in Nottingham with the promise that they would be returned post haste. And finally they were off.
"Just like old times, huh?" Allen said, settling his saddle.
Leon pushed back a lock of hair. For the first time in his life, his hair had been allowed to grow wild. "Hardly. It feels odd, being without Robin or Marian."
Allen snickered. "Yes, but isn't it so much more peaceful?"
That was rather easy to agree to. "Do you think they will ever sort themselves out?" Leon asked, thoughtfully. "Things between the two of them have grown rather hectic."
Snorting, Allen said, "are you kidding? Leon, we've known they throughout their entire relationship! When have things ever been calm?"
"'I suppose so."
"You should know better than anyone. Do you remember when Robin found out you were betrothed to Marian?" Allen laughed, ignoring the discomfort upon his friends face. "What was it he called you? My memory fails me … Wasn't it…"
"Shit stabbing sod," Leon said calmly.
"Yes!" Allen said, laughing away, failing to notice the other mans silence. Finally he did note the other man's unenthusiasm. "I suppose he did go a bit far. Why was he raging on about you using his struggles to sort your own? I mean, yeah it was really rough that they couldn't get married then. But I understand where you were coming from too. If she had to get married, surely it would be better to be with someone who she knows doesn't expect to love him."
Leon did laugh at that, although it was more of a snarky action. "More than you know old friend."
Leon was quick to turn the subject to broader horizons and Allen hardly minded. Allen could always look back on those days with both ranges of emotions. He enjoyed the four of them spending those months together in blissful ignorance. Allen felt helpful as the cover-up for Robin and Marian to run off and be together. But reality set in eventually and oddly enough it had been Amelia who had banished Robin with talk of informing her Lord Master about everything her mistress had been lying about. That action had taken months to forgive. It was only when situations resolved and Robin was granted his lands that Marian would acknowledge Amelia's presence once more. To look at them now, it was ridiculous to Allen to think of their falling out.
He had always thought Leon rather clever for that solution. It irked him a little to think that he had not thought of it first, although he was far too afraid of Robin to propose it. But surely it made sense for Leon and Marian to continue their friendship under a new title. If they were to marry anyway, surely it was better to face the rest of ones life with a friend over the alternative. He should have guessed that Robin would feel slightly differently when it was the woman he loved in question.
But once again, actions had resolved and the fight was if it never occurred. But Allen finally saw how his words had cut at Leon and he knew well to avoid mentioning them again in the future.
Derby was the same as Allen remember it. He had spent almost seven years of his childhood residing there. It was in those walls that Wilfred had trained himself and Robin as squires. That memory caused a pang in him as he thought of Wilfred. They may not have been as close as the bond between Robin and Wilfred, but Allen still struggled to recall the good times they had spent. There was also a fresh wave of anger as he thought upon the murder. Leon looked back at him, reassuringly. He said nothing and Allen was glad for it. He just wanted to forget about things.
"So where are we headed?" Allen asked, seeing Leon slowing his horse.
"Well first, we lose the horses," Leon said as he dismounted. "I hardly doubt that I have much sway in the stables nowadays so we best just tether them in a glade and pray they don't get away."
"And then?"
"Just follow my lead."
Allen had not only spent his childhood in that castle. He had also visited constantly in the following years. But he quickly found himself stumbling about, lost in the corridors. Luckily for him, Leon led on. They began at the North side. Fallen away bricks made for easy climbing over the wall. Once they were on the grounds, a tad more stealth was required. Derby castle had never been vast in size so it had always surprised Allen how many guards were hired to patrol the grounds.
Leon held a finger to his lips, watching a pair of guards who were no more than a few feet from the tree from which they hid behind. But they faced away form them, marching off in the opposing direction. Leon changed fingers, holding up his thumb and jerking it in the direction of a small archway. They climbed over and found themselves in the first corridor. They quickly sneaked down, turning first left and then right. They were lucky enough to meet no guards upon the way. Finally they came to a door. Allen tried to twist the handle but found it to be locked. Leon simply chuckled beneath his breath and pushed his foot along the bottom hinge. The door clicked and slowly swung open. "Yes well, no need to show off," Allen whispered, snarkily.
They now faced a long drawing room, simply furnished. A thick layer of dust covered everything, showing the disuse of the room. Confirming this, Allen noted, "I've never been in here before."
Leon walked forward. "That is hardly a coincidence." He approached the old fireplace. It was a simple structure, ordinary clay bricks lining the sides. Leon reached up and fumbled about until he retrieved a small wooden box.
"So, I'm supposing this box to be important, which raises the question; why do you think it logical to hide a wooden box in a fireplace? What if someone lit a fire?"
"No one uses this room Allen," Leon sighed, fiddling with three different locks. There were odd little mechanism to turns and Leon turned them all to opposing directions. "We have three other drawing rooms, all far superior. And besides, no one but my Father and myself knew how to open that door. Other simply think it has jammed shut with age and find no need to stress further than that. When Father died last year, I became the only one on the estate to know."
"Oh I do so enjoy this suspense," Allen sarcastically whined.
The box clicked open and Leon pulled forth a single brass key. "Ever wonder why Derby was so superior to Barnsdale?"
Allen groaned, remembering this game from his youth. "I recall you giving me a full list as a child. Are we really going to play, 'the reasons my land is better than yours?' Oh all right. It is vaster. There are more inhabitants in the surroundings villages that you control. Your castle is bigger. The goddamed bricks are a better colour, I don't know! Just tell me!"
"Really, Allen?" Leon said with a smirk. "That was the talk of children. But, yes those things were true for your puny castle. But think in the grander scale. You know that these lands were always of upmost importance to King Richard. Why else were we so well taken care of. But why could that be? Look around, this can barely be called a castle!"
Allen rubbed at his temple. "Can you just skip with the suspense and tell me why we are here?"
Leon's eyes sparkled. "I'll show you."
He walked a few steps, further back into the room. He stood beside a large, moth eaten rug and kicked it away. Beneath it was a trap door. The key in Leon's hand opened it.
Looking down, Allen could see a dark stairway.
"We stand above an archive. Every documented family tree has been stored here, back in the reign of King Henry the Second. He wanted to keep them somewhere that his enemies would not think to invade. So he built this castle atop them."
"Wow, exciting," Allen mumbled with a complete lack of enthusiasm. "You lived above family trees. That's great Leon."
Leon fixed with a dark look. "If you are going to be like that, we can go back to Sherwood now. But down here you can see all of the major households for almost all of Britain. They were updated regularly on a secret basis."
"Fascinating."
"It should be. Or did it not occur to you that Roger Darnell's family tree could be down there?"
Allen's ears perked up slightly. "Well, what would that get us?" he asked, not wanted to admit he had been wrong in his lack of excitement.
"Polly said that her family was very secretive. There was always something going on, strange people coming and going. So we need to know everything we can about Roger and also, about the woman he was married to."
Allen hated to admit it, but Leon as right.
They descended the stairway in near darkness. Leon had strongly insisted that they use only one small candle. Allen groaned as he went on and on about the consequences of flames against the old parchment and fumbled his way down. He had allowed Leon to hold the candle, because deep down, he knew that his friend was right. Fire in such a place was dangerous, and he did want that kind of responsibility.
The smell that greeted them was oddly comforting to Allen. He had always found comfort in the smell of parchment. And the small candle illuminated the masses of shelves circulating before them. Allen muttered in awe as he turned slowly. Scrolls continued on as far as the eye could see. "I cannot believe that you managed to keep this a secret from us," Allen said in wonder.
"I felt honoured knowing about it, I suppose. Like I was special"
"Yes, yes, you had a sizeable ego," Allen said, brushing it aside. But he was still secretly impressed. "So how will we find Darnell?"
As a means of answer, Leon walked off. "I guess that way," Allen muttered, following along.
It was difficult to measure time underground. But Allen could have sworn that the entire day had passed before Leon muttered triumphantly, pulling forth a scroll. Allen made an odd choking sound of relief, rubbing at his nose once more and sneezing away dust.
Leon scurried down the ladder he had been climbing, rushing over to a nearby table to roll the scroll flat. "No, I take it back," he said. "This is Darnot."
"Can we save the cheering for actual success?" Allen groaned. "You've gone too far if that is Darnot. Will you bloody well use a candle?"
"Well it's close, though. You've got to admit," Leon muttered as he climbed the ladder.
"Yes, because 'close' is what I really want to hear after hours of standing here in the dust!"
Allen heard occasional words that he struggled to make out. But a fair few were clearly rude.
But Leon's second cheer proved to be far more successful. This time he confirmed that the name atop the parchment was Darnell. Allen hurried over to paw over the massive chart. The beginning surprised him. "They used to be Lords! It was a few generations ago but still! You'd think he would mention it! Can you believe it? Of Doncastor too. I just know that he lived there."
"Probably because that didn't seem to last long," Leon said, pointing to the words. "1067 their lands were taken away. Doesn't say why."
Allen looked closer, seeking Roger's name. "Not a lot of good luck in this family, is there? They all seem to die young."
Leon furrowed his brow, reading the dates and making a sound of agreement. Rather than scouring for Roger's name, he still read the words above the tree. "Says here that quite a few of them died fighting against the King. Can't be good."
"Found him!" Allen said in triumph. "Ha! He's aged well. Wouldn't have thought him to be thirty-three. And he …"
Allen's voice trailed away. "What? What is it?" Leon asked, urgently.
Allen pointed a finger. "Remember the name on the broach? Godwinson? Well look at that."
Both men looked at the names surrounding Roger. They saw two children. Polly and a younger brother, Wrenne. But the name of Roger's wife was what astounded them. She was listed as Belinda Darnell. But a small side note added, nee Godwinson.
