"I cannot believe that Godwinson is a family name!" Allen exclaimed, probably for the twentieth time that night. Leon had lost count a long time ago. It had been an entire week since they had entered the archive and still Allen found a way to bring it up in almost constantly. This had almost gotten him in quite a bit of trouble as he tended to be a bit loud with his strange bursts of thought. Much had nearly jumped from his skin in fight on one occasion. But two things were constantly flitting through Allen's mind. First and foremost, his stupidity at not noting the obvious name. And secondly, the frustration that, despite how hard they looked, there had not been a family tree for a Godwinson family. A strong part of Allen suspected that it had been taken and Leon agreed with him. But there was nothing further they could do. Eventually, they were forced out of the archive, returning everything to its rightful place and returning to Sherwood. But not before Allen had been bored to tears, waiting for Leon to finish visiting his endless line of friends that lived amongst the villages of Derby.

"Yes Allen, you've said," Leon groaned. He had a thumping head ache and was uncomfortably hot despite the cool month of April. All of this combined made his far from being in the mood to listen to his friend's excitable babble.

The environment hardly helped. They were sat in the Locksley tavern, a personal favourite of Thomas. Allen knew that they were bound to end up there when he heard that the three of them were grouped together to drop off spoils at Locksley late one night. Thomas was off at the bar, chatting away to his friend Martha. When you spend enough time in one establishment, you are bound to befriend the staff. And Thomas had spent over ten years of his life in his beloved tavern. Martha had become one of his eldest friends. She was a busty with bright red hair piled high atop her head. She was also very feisty, which helped in her line of work. She was loud too. Allen could hear her gossiping from their distant table.

Thomas finally returned, happily chugged back from his tankard. Naturally, he had forgotten a pitcher for his friends which Martha happily carried over. "Alright loves?" she said, sliding a tankard across to Allen. "How's life treating you?"

Allen shrugged. "Life is life. But you know how England is."

"A bloody shambles?" she said, grinning.

"Exactly. Good is bad, bad is good. It's madness."

She whistled. "Best say your prayers then, love."

Now that Thomas had returned, Allen knew that a conversation change was in order. But the door crashed open and Robin came running in. The three of them looked incredibly guilty, knowing that they were expected back at camp. But Robin was not worried about that.

The tavern was extremely loud so he gestured to the door, indicating that they needed to leave. Each man could see that something was wrong.

The cold night air hit them instantly but they barely noticed due to their worry. "Did you notice anything peculiar about Derby when you were there last week?" Robin asked. Both Leon and Allen shook their heads.

Robin's eyes conveyed his concern. "Leon, I'm so sorry to be the one to tell you this. But it appears that a pestilence has broken out. So far it has been confined to Derby. No one is allowed to leave."

Leon was stunned. "But … We were just there! And everyone was fine!"

Robin sighed. "I've already talked to Pete. He has been informed all about it so he can recognise symptoms in case it comes here. From what I gather it happens very quickly. Once people catch it, they only have a few days."

Leon blinked at a rapid pace. "Well how many have died?"

Robin hesitated. "Yesterday it was sixty. But the numbers are raising daily."

"We need to go. Now. They need aid and any help we can give!"

Thomas looked extremely hesitant. "How contagious is it?"

Before anyone could react, Leon had clutched a fistful of Thomas' tunic and shoved him back. "People are dying, you filth!" he yelled. "Those are my friends! People I have known my whole life! But you stay here is you are scared!"

"Leon!" Robin yelled, pulling him back. "Thomas' concerns are well warranted. It is highly contagious. So I don't want all the Merry Men going! You and me will collect what we can and go to them. Everyone has cut off trade so they need food."

"And we can find a cure?" Leon asked desperately. "Ivo is one of the best physicians I have ever encountered. He cured me of the pox when I was a small child when all others thought I would die. If anyone can stop this, he can!"

Robin sadly shook his head. "Ivo was one of the first to be taken by the plague."

Leon stumbled back, leaning against the wall. "He was my friend," he mumbled.

Allen patted him gently on the shoulder. "I remember him. He devoted his life to studying medicine. And I also remember that he wrote everything down. So I'll come with you, read everything he wrote and surely there will be something there!"

The look on Thomas' face clearly implied that he thought them all mad. "Go back to camp, inform the others where we went. We will gather supplies at Nottingham and make our way there as soon as we can."

Thomas still looked doubtful. But in this new state, Thomas found that he feared Leon. And to say something now would mean to face his wrath.

"Best say your prayers then, love," he muttered, mimicking Martha's earlier words.

Leon barely heard him. Determination was already leading him away.

.

.

.

Allen groaned, rubbing at his eyes. He looked to the window, seeing streaks of red n the sky. Morning was fast approaching. Another night had been wasted. And so dawned the day, marking the third day since they had once more arrived in Derby.

So much had been accomplished but in the same way, nothing had.

The first step had been too remove all of the deceased physicians works from his hut. Allen would not dare work in the same residence. Best to take the information to a clean location. He remained in a secluded room in the castle, pouring over different readings.

Robin and Leon had set about gathering the sick, relocating them all to one location. Sadly, the number had grown. Fifty people were immediately moved to the castle. The Lord in residence had put up a minor protest but Robin was quick to put him in his place. It helped their case when the Lord began to show signs of a rash. He was dead before sundown. That was a disturbingly fast case. Most others lasted around two days. But Robin had still witnessed thirty deaths since their arrival.

Luke had followed them, arriving a few hours after them. And to Robin's dismay, Marian had joined him. Naturally, no words would out stubborn her and she had demanded that she remain and help. The thought terrified Robin but there were multiple other issues for him to worry about.

Luke did not fear the plague as he finally put his physician skills to skill. Pete would have been proud if he could see how his young student was excelling. The first thing Luke did was to ensure that the Merry Men and all other volunteers were well equipped against the plague. They took draughts and breathed in from certain herbs. He also insisted that they constantly keep as much of their bodies covered as possible. This seemed to do well. Three days had passed and none of them showed any signs. And they had been presented with a plentiful amount of opportunities to catch the plague.

A knock on the door startled Allen away from his thoughts. A man he roughly recognised brought him a bowl of stew. He remembered the mans name to be Michael. He was one of the few they had met who volunteered to come care for the sick. He was a handsome man, although his hair was an odd mob of small dark curls that would have amused Allen under different circumstances.

"Thank you," he mumbled, looking back down to his reading.

Michael refused to leave, pushing the bowl further. "You need to eat."

Allen looked up. "I have slightly more pressing matters."

"Plague thrives on weakness. You need to keep your strength up."

Sighing, Allen pulled the bowl toward him. He quickly dropped the negative attitude when he realised the kindness that the men was showing him. "So why did you choose to stay and help?" Allen asked. "Do you have family that are ill?"

Michael shook his head. "I'm not even from here, actually," he admitted. "I'm a minstrel. I'd show you if I had me lute. I as just passing through and got caught in the madness."

Allen knew full well that no one was allowed to leave. Shortly after their arrival, the Sheriff had sent over guards who waited upon each possible entrance to the town. No one was allowed to leave. Still, Allen respected the man for not hiding away as most had done. "But why? Why did you choose to remain where we quarantine all of the dying?"

Michael just shrugged. "Seemed the right thing to do."

"Any luck?" Robin called from the doorframe.

"What do you think?" Allen replied.

Michael smiled and left the room.

"I like that one," Robin said, jerking a thumb to the mans direction.

"Well let's work on keeping him alive then shall we?" Allen said, turning back to his work. "How's Leon?"

"How do you think?" Robin said, sinking into a nearby chair. "He has been running around for days, checking that we have officially confined the sickness."

"And have we?"

Robin managed a genuine smile. "Seems that way. But what are we going to do? Ten more died since last night. Sixty are getting worse by the minute."

Robin stopped when he heard his name being bellowed. Footsteps followed and Leon quickly ran through the doorframe. "Sheriff's men are here. They finally braved the town."

"What are they going to do? Arrest us?" Robin said with a snort.

"A villager spoke to them. Tried to get out by announcing that we had successfully quarantined the sickness. So the Sheriff sent his men to confirm. They want to speak to you."

"I can't say that the feeling is mutual."

"There's more. Gisbourne is leading them."

Robin's face quickly darkened. "Well go one then! Lead me to them."

.

.

.

Robin left the castles entrance without holding his sword. But felt assured that the blade was firmly attached to his hip. Always within reach. He did not trust the Sheriff, especially in situations such as this, mainly because he was unsure of what the Sheriff could possibly want.

He finally saw Gisbourne, swamped by six guards. Robin had expected more. But surely they were not here to arrest him. Still, the whole thing could be a trap so he kept his distance. He looked over to Gisbourne. Robin noted how he was still his disgustingly perfect self. "You wanted to speak to me?" he said, arms outstretched in false surrender.

The guards reached their hands to their hilts but Gisbourne reached out an arm, stopping them. "We are not here to fight, Hood."

Robin grimaced. "Such a shame. I do so enjoy beating you. So why are you here? And more importantly, where is my good friend other wise known as the Sheriff? Surely he is not too cowardly to appear himself?"

Gisbourne shook his head sadly. "You don't know what you're dealing with here, Hood. This petulance needs to be stopped."

"For your information, it has been," Robin remarked curtly.

Gisbourne still looked odd. "So I've heard. And I feel that you must be congratulated upon stopping the spread of the disease."

"Stop it, I'm blushing," Robin said flatly.

Giving a sideways glance to his men, Gisbourne walked forward. Robin waited, on edge but he stood his ground. Gisbourne only stopped when he was a few feet from Robin, a good distance from his men.

Gisbourne spoke in a hushed voice. "You need to run inside now."

"And you need to stop telling me what to do."

"No. Listen. The Sheriff wanted me to distract you. He wants this pestilence stopped at all costs. He has already sent other men in through other entrances to burn down the castle."

"And what of the people inside who still live?" Robin said, shaking with fury.

Gisbourne took a deep breath, eyes closed. "What do you think?"

Robin turned and ran. Fearing the plague, the guards did not stop chase him. Leon was waiting at the entrance way. "What did he say?" he asked in alarm.

"They're going to torch the place," Robin said quickly. "What other entrances are there to the castle."

Leon was trying his hardest to not work himself into a frenzy. "The uh, the servants entrance. At the rear, north side, that is."

"What is going on?" Marian said, running up beside them. "Gisbourne is here? What did he say?"

"They plan to burn the castle down!" Leon cried, racking his fingers sharply through his hair. "Can we get everyone out?"

"There isn't time!" Marian said in horror. "Most are too sick to move!"

"We need to get to the servants entrance, now!" Robin said firmly. "Marian, go and get help. Any able-bodied people need to scour the castle, find any source of flame and snub it out! She was gone before he had even finished his sentence.

Robin and Leon ran. Faster than they ever thought possible. Smoke was already filling up the corridors but both refused to believe it was too late.

It was obvious that they could not reach the source of the flames in time. It had already spread too far. They was no water in sight. Leon trembled as he realised their fate.

Robin's eyes burned as attempted to get closer. Leon pulled him back by the collar. "There is a well not far from the servants entrance!" Robin yelled, struggling to be heard over the roar of the flames. "If I can just get to it …"

"It's too late!" Leon yelled back. "Go and get everyone out!"

"Where are you going?" Robin yelled but Leon had already run in a different direction. He threw up his hands in frustration but ran back. Another corridor was also filling with smoke, informing Robin that there was more than one source.

So he ran even faster back to the grand hallway, where they had kept the sick. The flames were a good distance away but Robin feared how quickly they would spread. "It's no use!" He said in a mad rush to Luke and Marian. They had organised a small group but Robin knew there was no water source. "We need to get everyone out."

Their lack of action angered him further. "Come on then!!"

Marian turned away, wiping her tears. Allen took multiple deep breaths but was unable to say it.

"Robin. We can't," Allen said appearing in the doorway. He pulled Robin away and spoke quickly in a hush undertone. "There is no hope for these people. Not one person has been cured. Not a single person. They are all dying and we cannot risk these others by saving them."

"I'm not letting them die, Allen," Robin said, through gritted teeth.

"Well then you will die yourself!" Allen yelled. "And so will I. And so will Marian. Every single person here will die. We need to save who we can and go."

Leon ran back in the room. "Where the hell have you been?" Robin yelled.

"We need to go, now!" Leon said. "The entrance is blocked. But I know another way. But we need to be fast before the flames block that too."

Robin looked to the dying. "You can't ask me to do this," he whispered.

"I'm not asked, I'm telling," Allen said, pulling hard upon his friends arm.

The small group ran down a deep stairway. Luke nearly tripped due to the short length of the stairs but Michael managed to steady him whilst keeping his own balance. They came out in the kitchens. Unfortunately there was another entrance to the kitchens and the smoke was already engulfing the room. Leon led them to a large wooden platform. He pushed them to stand upon it. He then pointed to a wheel. "It's for large amounts of kitchen supplies!" he yelled to Robin. "If I turn that, you will be raised up!" He pointed above and through the smoke, Robin could make out a gap.

Allen felt a strong sweep of relief. This was gone almost instantaneously. "But who will pull you up?"

"I'll be fine," Leon assured, pushing him back onto the platform.

"We're not leaving you!" Marian yelled, attempting to pull him.

"Then we all die!" Leon yelled, leaping away from his touch. "Besides," he said quietly. "This is all my fault."

Robin began to deny him but Leon cut him off. "Just don't! I tracked the movements of the plague. The first to die were my friends. The people I visited and had contact with! There is not a single exception!"

His eyes bore so many agony and sadness. "And besides …" He held out his arms, pulling back the sleeves.

Despite the smoke, Robin could make out a rash. "I'm dying anyway," Leon said, tears streaming down his face.

This odd sense of calm remained upon Leon. "Go."

Marian still continued in her attempt to pull him to them. Robin pulled her back.

Allen remained rooted to the spot, still not on the platform. "This is not how this ends!"

Leon smiled through his tears. "I always knew I was the best," he whispered. And with one final shove, he pushed Allen back. "I would embrace you," he called, beginning to turn the wheel. "But you're too darn ugly."

The wheel turned and the platform raised.

Even though the smoke, Robin could see Leon.

And he was smiling.

.

.

.

Pete's somber expression matched each and every Merry Man as he entered camp. He was more than just a local and trusted physcian, he was their friend. In his hand he held a small piece of parchment in his fist, but seemed unwilling to show it. The Merry Men sat around the fire, for the most part in silence. Marian had remained, unwilling to return to Nottingham straight away. She knew there would be trouble from her absence. But nothing was making sense. Leon was dead.

Fate had been slightly kind to them. The red sky of the early morning had given way to rain. This rain quenched the flames before too much damage was done to the castle. But it was too late for Leon. Michael had retrieved his body after both Robin and Allen were unwilling. Luke had accompanied him but knew instantly that there was nothing he could do.

But in other ways, fate was unbelievably cruel. The fire had not reached the grand hallway, leaving the victims unburned. But the sickness claimed them all within hours. In a way, it was fortunate that Robin and the others could clear their consciences slightly for leaving them. But Robin still felt personally responsible. Not one innocent person had survived.

Michael had accompanied them back to camp. Robin intended for him to join the Merry Men, although it was not the right moment to formally suggest this. For after all, there was a space going.

Luke rose when his mentor arrived, reaching out his hand for the parchment. Pete looked unsure but allowed him to take it. Robin saw how his friends face fell. "What? What did you find out?"

Pete cleared his throat. "I think I know what caused the plague. Leon was poisoned with Devil's Creeper. A very deadly and rare plant. The carrier shows minimal symptoms, maybe a slight fever if anything. This is what makes it so deadly. It spreads like wildfire and they won't even know they are carrying it."

Allen snatched the parchment away to read for himself.

"But who would do such a thing to Leon?" Marian whimpered. Robin held her closer. In light of current situations they seemed to have temporarily forgotten or chosen to ignore their current issues to comfort one another.

Allen was silent.

Upon hearing that Leon had momentarily disappeared before his death, Allen had returned to the abandoned drawing room, sure that this was where Leon must have gone. Sure enough, metal grates had been lowered, preventing the fire from entering the general vicinity. He used that same trick to open the door to see the room, exactly as they had left it. Right down to the goblet, still partially full upon the mantle. Allen recalled Leon drinking from it when they had first left the archive. Allen's own distaste for wine had prevented him from drinking from the same goblet. He also recalled his thoughts. He had wondered why there had been wine in a supposed abandoned drawing room. And Leon had been surprised. If Leon had been the only one who knew how to open the door, how could he have not knows. Allen shoved the goblet flying in a fury. How could he not have known? This was how Leon had been poisoned. And he had stood by and allowed the whole thing to happen.

Out of curiosity, he felt inside the fireplace, pulling the box free. He cursed himself for not asking Leon for the code. But he saw that this would not be a problem. The box was open. And there was no key inside it.

A moment of clear understanding overtook Allen. They had gotten too close. Someone did not like Leon helping him. So they had killed him.

He threw the box against the wall with such force that the lid snapped away upon impact.

The Merry Men had never been inept at coping with the death of one of their own. Leon was buried alongside seven of his brethren that he had never met. They had all been killed during that first year. The one person he would have recognised was the seventh grave. Robin had buried Wilfred there. Having no family of his own, it had been all too easy to secure the body.

It was a somber time. Tears were shed, kind words spoken. Eventually Allen could not take it anymore, retiring to his cabin. He could no look into anyone's eyes with his overwhelming guilt.

The cabin was not much easier. For he had once shared it both Robin and Leon. Now there was an empty bed. He looked down upon it, wondering how long it would take Leon's scent to vanish from the coverings. He stroked a hand along the coarse material only to find an odd shape beneath.

Pulling back the quilt, he found a scroll. Another family tree. Allen opened it with haste praying for it to be the Godwinson Family Tree.

But he was wrong.

It was a family tree.

But not of whom he expected.