Chapter Four
"Enjoying yourself?" Robin asked, smiling at the over enthusiastic young man by his side.
"Yes, I didn't know how much pleasure you could get out of giving people stuff," Tristan nodded happily. They were walking through the village of Locksley giving bags of money to those in need. They had already given some to the miller, the blacksmith and a few other villagers. The other outlaws were waiting in the forest so they wouldn't attract so much attention. Tristan wasn't the only one enjoying himself; Robin loved showing the boy the people he knew and how much the outlaws helped them. He liked seeing the boy's reaction because he had barely stepped out of the Abbey in his life and most things were new to him.
"Right, we are going to Fredrick and Mary's house. They have been close to eviction for too long now and need something to get back on their feet," Robin announced.
"Where do they live?" Tristan asked, intrigued.
"In that house with the goat in the yard," Robin pointed their home out and led Tristan over. A man was digging in a vegetable patch with two teenage boys whilst another three children, two girls and a little boy, were playing with a pail of water.
"Billy!" the man sighed, leaning on his spade, "Come back and help, that water is supposed to go on the carrots not on Elsie or Violet."
"Sorry father," the little boy hung his head and half heartedly threw the water over the plants.
"Fredrick," Robin raised a hand in greeting.
"Robin! Haven't seen you around for awhile," Fredrick grinned at the young outlaw.
"Yes, we've been having a little trouble with the Sheriff lately," Robin smiled.
"And who's this young man," Fredrick turned to Tristan, "He's not your son is he Robin?"
"No," Robin was surprised at this comment. He had thought Tristan had similar features to him but not enough to be mistaken for his son.
"I don't know who my parents are. I'm an orphan," Tristan told Fredrick.
"Oh, well you do remind me of Robin when he was a boy…and someone else," the older man squinted slightly at Tristan, scrutinising him, trying to remember where he recognised him from.
"Oh I know who…" Fredrick finally got it but was cut off by a loud shout.
"The Sheriff! The Sheriff is coming!" Robin knew this was for his benefit so he grabbed Tristan's arm and made a dash for the cover of the trees, throwing a small leather bag of silver at Fredrick as he went.
The other outlaws met them at the fringes of the trees.
"Had fun?" Allan asked as they all lay watching the village from the undergrowth.
"Yeah," Tristan replied, "It was great." Just at that moment two horses, flanked by guards, arrived. Mounted on one was the small squat figure of the Sheriff and on the other a tall, dark haired figure, dressed in black was sitting. Robin recognised him at once, Gisborne. The corner of Robin's mouth turned down as if he'd seen something disgusting and his blue eyes hardened in hatred. Gisborne was Marian's husband.
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