If anyone wouldn't mind helping me out, I have a Percy Jackson one I'm doing too that has no reviews yet... thanks!


The castle loomed above them, with towering grey spires and carved water-spouts that reminded Will for all the world of the ruins that had been the castle of Gorlan. In some places, murky bronze bound around the building in a decorative pattern, looking as though someone should white-wash the whole structure.

The garden out front was neat and precise, but the flowers were wilted and the white marble statues were brown with filth, like they hadn't been washed since the new baron took place (and no one had bothered to water the roses, either). The great gates were smeared with tar and mud, but under that Will could see traces of what looked like a great silver portcullis. He imagined that the whole place had been magnificent a month ago, but no one had touched it since. Upon entering the courtyard, he realized he was right.

Inside, many servants walked around in tattered clothing that had once been magnificent, lines creasing even the youngest faces he saw, and buckets of muddy soapy water in their hands. Some of them were doing the personal bidding of men-at-arms, and the men laughed and sat about lazily with mugs of beer and ale in their hands. The barracks for the men were in pristine condition, and all the servants were being forced to work there and there alone.

As they entered, from the door a chubby man who was balding stormed out. He was barefoot and in silk pajamas, a hat in disarray on his head, and three servants were trailing after him with his clothing in their arms. He began yelling obscenities at the men-at-arms, telling them to go use their weapons for something useful, like getting meat for his stew.

The men laughed and rolled their eyes, but stood and staggered around for a moment, alcohol in hand, getting their weapons. As they headed for the door, the man's eyes followed them and caught sight of Will and his companions (A strange group in the eyes of the Baron; five Rangers, one who was no older than 15 and another who was most certainly a young girl, then a jongleur and a very large man who he couldn't seem to identify).

"YOU," the man- who was obviously the Baron- yelled. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN HERE?"

"I do believe we'd be standing," Halt replied, straight-faced. The Baron's face began to turn red, his ears looking like carved tomatoes.

"I KNOW THAT," he bellowed. "WHY ARE YOU HERE? GET OUT."

"We are here on King's business," Will said.

"THE KING ISN'T HERE."

"Please, if you wouldn't mind, take your volume down," Halt said tartly. "My ears can only take so much. And just because he isn't here doesn't mean he doesn't have business." The Baron just glared at them, then turned on his heel and took his clothing from the three servants and stormed into the castle. The seven riders exchanged a glance and dismounted, gesturing for a servant to come and take away their eight horses. Max glanced back at Robin and she gestured for him to go with the horses, but Ebony stayed with them (it was only logical; one was trained and one was a wild wolf).

"This is worse than I'd thought," Halt said, mildly irritated. "I hadn't been thinking we'd be dealing with a buffoon."

"Apparently," Gilan replied, rolling his eyes as they made their way up the stairs and into the castle. They glanced around and saw a servant, and had her lead them up to the baron's sat waiting for over thirty minutes before the Baron entered the room, dressed. When he saw the seven of them sitting there, he looked startled they were still there for a moment before scowling.

"Fine, very well, if you insist," the baron grumbled. "You can come in." As all seven of them stood, he glared at them angrily. "Only two allowed!"

"Take Robin and see how she deals with it," Halt breathed in Will's ear, and Will nodded. He exchanged a look with his apprentice, and together the two of them followed the Baron into his office. The Baron sat in an overlarge arm-chair on the opposite side of the desk, but even though it was so big his sides still overflowed it. On their side of the desk were two scrawny, very uncomfortable looking straight backed chairs.

"Sit," the baron said irritably. When Will and Robin hesitated, he yelled. "SIT NOW." Will watched him levelly, an noticed with approval Robin wasn't cowed by the man yelling. Instead, she looked bored and rearanged her knives. She glanced at one of the chairs.

"May I?" she asked, as though the Baron hadn't spoken. The man's face flushed angrily.

"YES, SIT," he yelled at her.

"Thankyou," she said, sitting and arranging her cloak around her. "But if you wouldn't mind, I'm not hard of hearing, so would you take the volume down a notch?" Will sat in the other chair, leaning back, preparing to observe how his apprentice dealt with the matter. She looked at Will for a moment, realized what he was doing, and nodded subtly.

"What do you want?" the baron said, still loudly but not quite a yell. Robin looked at him for a long moment, then sat back in her chair, folding her hands over her lap.

"I would like to talk to you about your taxes," she said, not so soft as to be a whisper but quieter than normal volume.

"What about them?" the baron growled. "Should I raise them? They're pitifully low, aren't they? Duncan should raise them. Raise the bloody things! Make these fools in the kingdom work!" Both Robin and Will noticed the disrespect he used when referring to the King, calling him by his name.

"King Duncan," Robin corrected him, some ice in her voice. "believes that he nor his barons should be made rich off the money the people work hard for. Now, how much are you requiring the people give you?"

"Ten gold pieces per living person," the baron snapped. "Plus 20% of the income from the inns." Will relaxed; that wasn't too high.

"How often?" Robin asked. Will realized perhaps he should have told her taxes are named by an annual amount, but then saw the baron's expression and thought perhaps this wasn't the case.

"Every month," the baron growled. Will breathed in sharply; that was 11x as much as he was supposed to collect. No wonder the people were going poor!

"That's a problem," Robin replied, leaning forwards. "I'd suggest bringing that down to an annual amount."

"I don't need suggestions from little girls."

"But you do need them from a Ranger," Robin said. Though she didn't raise her voice, the cold seething fury in her voice was clear.

"You aren't a Ranger," he snorted. "Little girls aren't Rangers, dear." Before the Baron could blink, a big saxe-knife was burried three inches deep in the wood of his desk, right between his two fingers, trembling, Robin's hand around the hilt.

"Go on," she replied coldly. "Test if I'm a Ranger. Make me mad again. If I'm not one, perhaps I'll miss your great big head." Will sat straighter, prepared to restrain his apprentice if things got messy.

"You should get out," the Baron said, eyes fixed on the leather bound hilt, still between his fingers. "I am not altering my taxes."

"Then remember my name," Robin said coldly. "I am Robin Hood. That is the last name you will utter before being behind bars or having an arrow through your thick skull." Robin stood abruptly, shoving the chair back about a meter. "You were warned." Will stood silently and ghosted after his apprentice out the door, sighing. He would have to do something about her temper... and her lack of diplomacy. She had just made this whole trip much longer.

"Come on," Will said, gesturing Halt, Gilan, Mauch, Alan and Little John up from their seats. "Looks like we have a long week ahead of us." Together, they found their way out of the castle, heading to an inn for the night. "I have a very strong headed apprentice."