Chapter 13: Fighting for England
"Robin!" Allan yelled after the retreating figure, but to no avail. Robin kept on riding towards Gisborne, swiftly closing the distance between himself and his enemy.
"The bloody idiot, he's going to get himself killed!" Cassie fretted. "And all of us with him."
They watched as Robin rode on but suddenly, just as he got within bow range of Gisborne's soldiers, he wheeled the horse around in a sharp turn. As he rode back towards Cassie, Allan and Will they could see a look of sharp determination on Robin's face, mingled with bitter resentment that his duty prevented him from seeking vengeance on Gisborne.
"Come on!" he barked as he rode past, not breaking the horse's stride. The others followed him back to the wagon where the gang assembled, looking back warily at Gisborne, who seemed to be forming a plan of attack
"What is it? What's happening?" Rose asked urgently.
"Gisborne," Robin replied shortly. "We have to fight."
"Robin, they have four times as many men!" Allan reminded him.
"We should run," Much suggested. "Back to the village."
"And put them in danger?" Robin looked at him until Much quailed beneath the stern stare. "We fight."
"A good day," John agreed.
"Don't you dare say that," Much snapped, turning away. But even as he grumbled under his breath he was pulling his bow from its holster.
"Rose, William, get back in the wagon," Robin instructed. "We need to hide behind it whilst they ride on; they'll have bows and we have no shields. As soon as they're close enough for combat I want Allan and Cass, on the left. Will, John, on the right. Much, you're with me, in front." He turned to look at John. "John, stay as close to the wagon as you can. Don't let anyone within ten yards of Rose and William." John nodded his understanding, already off his horse and holding his staff ready to defend his charges to the death if necessary. Robin then turned his attention to Tristan, not having a clue who the young man was. "Are you on our side?" he asked bluntly. Tristan nodded. "Then protect the rear."
They all rode behind the wagon for safety, weapons in hands, as Gisborne and his guards began to move towards them in two ranks.
Robin knew that none of them would be as good with a bow as him, so they were within his bow range sooner than he was in theirs. He stepped out in front of the wagon and managed to pick off four of the guards as they rode forward, before guiding his horse back behind the wagon to protect them from the volley of arrows.
As soon as Gisborne and the guards were close enough the outlaws rode out from behind the wagon. The ensuing battle was different to normal; this was not a fight for a chest of gold, or an escape from the dungeon. It was a fight for the King; a fight for the future of England. Every clash of swords, every blow from an axe, was more fierce and important than ever before.
Despite the defensive barrier encircling the wagon, the guards got closer and closer to their target. The outlaws were all off their horses, fighting bitterly to defend Rose and William, but for once their best efforts were not proving to be enough.
Entangled in a fierce swordfight, Allan had drifted away from the wagon. Tristan, too, was occupied as he fended off two guards single-handedly. Cassie was alone defending the left hand side, but she could not hold them off alone. The guards broke past her and reached the entrance to the wagon, flinging the door open; but Rose and William were not there.
Cassie looked round, bewildered, then heard a scrabbling noise above her head. She realised that they had climbed out and onto the top of the wagon.
"Get down!" she heard John bellow from the far side of the wagon.
Cassie rushed round to the right hand side of the wagon, knowing that positions were not important any longer. Rose was sliding down to the ground whilst John helped William.
"Get behind us!" she yelled to them, throwing herself forward into the fray.
The next few seconds seemed to happen in slow motion. As the guards advanced on John, who was sheltering both Rose and William, the young boy darted forwards and scooped a discarded sword from the ground.
"No!" Rose shouted, following him forwards. Cassie saw a guard a few yards away raise a bow and she span round, but it was too late.
The arrow whistled through the air and struck Rose on the chest as she dove in front of her son.
The din of the fight subsided as everyone realised what had happened. William knelt by his mother's body, sobbing, and she stroked his hair with one weak hand as her life ebbed out of her. The guards no longer seemed to know what to do; they looked to Gisborne for guidance, but his gaze was fixed on Robin.
Ever so slowly, Robin began to walk towards Gisborne. He had not come into direct combat with him during the fight; there had been too many guards in the way, and Gisborne had hung back.
Gisborne took a step backwards. "Retreat!" he shouted as he swung himself back into his saddle. "Retreat!"
As the guards followed his orders, Gisborne turned his horse and began to ride off. Robin reached for the nearest horse to follow him, but Much stepped between him and the animal and rested a gentle hand on his arm. "Leave him," he said quietly. Robin stared at him, and something seemed to give way in his eyes. He nodded and stepped away.
"Why did they leave?" Allan asked, looking down at William, who was being comforted by Cassie next to his mother's body. "They don't have the kid."
"It doesn't matter," Will said quietly, also watching the heartbreaking scene. "If the King cannot marry the mother, then he is not the heir to the throne. He is just a child again."
William looked up, having no idea that his mother's sacrifice had changed not only his life but the future of England. No longer was he in danger; his life was not under threat. He was free to be an ordinary child, with no great pressures upon his young shoulders. However, his freedom meant that the freedom of England was under threat once more, as Prince John was again the only heir to the throne.
"I want to go home," he whispered, before starting to sob into Cassie's tunic as she pulled him against her.
"Where's home?" she mouthed to the others over his head.
Robin scratched at his stubbled chin as he considered the new dilemma. Did they return him to Hayworth, where he had been living, or to Nettlestone?
XX
Allan poked at the fire with a long branch, watching as sparks flew from the shifting ashes. Satisfied that it was stoked enough to last a little longer he walked over to where Cassie was leaning against a tree, William sleeping by her side with his head in her lap. She smiled gratefully as Allan draped his cloak around her shoulders; the days were getting warmer, but the nights were still chilly.
Settling down onto the ground next to the pair, Allan looked down at William. The boy was sleeping relatively peacefully, but he had been silent for the two days that the group had been travelling. They were journeying back to Nottinghamshire; William had told them that he still had relatives in Nettlestone, as his mother's sister had lived there, and they had decided it would be best to return him to his family.
"Poor kid," he commented.
Cassie smiled up at him. "Sympathy for others, Allan A Dale? I always knew you were going soft."
He nudged her in mock annoyance, being careful not to jolt the sleeping child, and couldn't help but smile when she rested her head against his shoulder.
Will, watching them from across the fire, smiled too, ignoring the pang of jealously that twinged in his gut – he would have given anything to have been able to wrap an arm around Djaq and hold her close.
As his mind drifted to his beloved Saracen, as it did every time he had a moments peace in which to think, he caught a flutter of movement out of the corner of his eye. Turning his head he saw Tristan disappear into the trees.
Picking up his axe from where it rested on the ground beside him, Will stood and silently followed Tristan. He caught up to him easily and caught hold of his arm, twisting him round to face him.
Tristan seemed to have been expecting him because his words came immediately. "I failed," he said hoarsely. "I swore to protect them, and she died."
"You did everything you could," he reassured the troubled youth. "We all did. None of us could have done any more."
"I just wish I could have saved her," he said with a sigh.
"Are you going to return to Nettlestone?" Will asked. "I believe they would accept you, and you could begin making amends."
Tristan shuffled his feet. "I suppose so. And I will watch over William, I don't want any more sorrow to befall him."
Will reached out and squeezed his shoulder. "An honourable way to redeem yourself," he said quietly.
XX
"William!" A woman named Hillary gasped in shock as she watched William being led towards her by Robin. The boy looked at his aunt shyly, but she knelt down on the ground and held her arms open, and he fled to her. "What happened?" she asked Robin urgently over William's head as she stroked the boy's hair. "Where is Esther?"
Robin looked at her sadly. "I think we should talk inside." Nodding, she led him into her cottage so he could explain the events of the previous days.
The majority of the villagers had gathered round the outlaws and the two sons of the village that they had returned. They stared as William was led into the protection of his aunt's home, then looked back to Tristan.
"Where have you been, lad?" one man asked. They were all gazing at him warily, suspicious of the youth since his surprise appearance a week earlier.
"It's a long story," Tristan replied, with a nervous laugh.
"You look half starved," said one kindly looking woman. She reached out and took Tristan's arm. "Come and get some food down you son, then maybe we can have a listen to that story, ey?"
Tristan smiled gratefully down at her and let her lead him away.
"Well," said the man that had spoken, looking after them in surprise. "I suppose we have cause for a celebration then."
"We are holding a Midsummer's Eve party in a few weeks," said his wife, who stood at his elbow. "Perhaps we can make it a triple celebration."
"With you all as guests of honour!" the man declared, gesturing towards the band of outlaws.
"Not a chance," Much replied bluntly.
"Oh, we must come!" Cassie protested, her eyes shining at the memory of Midsummer celebrations that had been held in Stonewell every year. She had only good memories of the event; memories of feasting, of laughter, of the whole village dancing until dawn.
Much narrowed his eyes at her. "Do you not remember what happened last time we attended a party in Nettlestone? Well, of course you don't, you weren't around then. But they –" he indicated the villagers "- betrayed us to the Sheriff's mercenaries!" He delivered an accusing glare to all the villagers still gathered around them.
"We're leaving," Robin said firmly as he returned to the group. "Come on Much." He took hold of his friend and dragged him away, before he was set upon by the insulted looking villagers.
"But master, you can't honestly be thinking of going?" Much asked him incredulously.
"We'll see," was all Robin would say on the matter.
Author's Note: I am completely in denial that I have an exam on Friday. Oh well, writing this is more fun than reading about US Foreign Policy :)
Anywhoo, the big Robin/Gisborne showdown didn't happen...mainly because a) I had no idea of how to write it effectively (as you may be able to tell by this chapter I suck at writing fight scenes) and b) because I imagine it would be a fight to the death, and I don't want either of them dead. Yet...
Also, the original plan was that Tristan would die protecting Esther and William in order to redeem himself. Buuut ultimately it would have been pointless - one of them HAD to die, in order to make PJ the only heir to the throne. As that is historically accurate. Not that the show cares about accuracy... Also, I fell in love with Tristan a little bit. And I wanted him to live!! There is more Tristan-fun to happen before this story is over!
On the subject of Tristan, if anyone wants a heads up on how I think he looks, I kind of picture him looking like Murtagh in the Eragon movie. Quite fit, in a long haired, bitter and twisted kind of way...