Thanks for the reviews! Another chapter, quick update :)

Chapter Seven: Plans

The three travelers made their way through the woods with little effort. By now they had gotten so used to the terrain it presented no real difficulty. They knew what the land offered, they knew what secrets it held, and they knew the safest and easiest way to travel. Yet what they did not know was their destination.

There was a solemn silence between all of them, as if afraid to breathe a word, following the slender man without question. Only Robin knew where they were going, and the man had yet to divulge them in the details. Much was shortly behind him, the look on his face betraying his obvious feelings. For Djaq, she strayed further behind, always keeping them close in sight, but allowing herself enough room to sort out her thoughts.

The sudden change had taken her by surprise. The differences among the men had been brewing for some time now. She was no fool. Djaq herself had come from a house in which there were many fights and disagreements. War had then clouded the land, and the verbal quarrels had seemed as though they never even existed. With men there was always war, even among men who were friends.

She would not pretend to understand, and would try her best not to judge. She neither knew, nor understood of the history between Robin and his men. They were all outlaws when she had first crossed paths with them. In her mind she could see no different Robin. The stories of his nobility, of his courage in the Holy Lands, none of those images would enter her mind. It was not something she could fathom.

Yet this, this did not feel right. She was still in her dress from earlier, her fingers absentmindedly toying with the ring on her finger. The same one Will had placed there. Her only regret was that it had been an act, instead of for real. For a brief moment, she had played her role as though it had been the truth. Djaq had carried herself proudly, arm wrapped about Will's, the feeling strange yet welcoming. She hadn't any suitors back home. Not with the war…

No, she had become her brother, had pretended her masculinity in order to save her own skin. The ploy had worked, and several times she had been spared, overlooked as young and weak boy. Then more she pretended, the easier it became. Soon, she was not only Djaq out in public; she was Djaq inside her own home. Then fate would it have it, her own guise would land her in trouble.

Crated as an animal, and treated as such, she had endured the long hard journey like many of her companions. They knew of her gender, but dared not to speak of it, for simple fear of what would happen. She had been frightened as well, and the first time she had met Robin face to face her fears had only increased. Bad enough that they were treated like animals, but then they were faced with a group of thieves.

Still, as her mother had told her, promise came in the strangest of ways. And Robin had been the promise, Robin had been her freedom. His own beliefs, his values, what he fought for, it had intrigued her. Part of her wished that she could do the same for the ones she loved, and it was the reason she had stayed. As well as the knowledge she would be returning to a war ridden land if she had left.

Till now she had trusted his judgment. With the latest happening, she wasn't so sure. Still she could not abandon him; she was not the kind of person that chose sides opposite of her leader. Loyalty was a strong value, especially where she came from. Part of her believed, and hoped, that Robin would somehow redeem himself. Given time he would calm down, and then she could speak with him, help him understand.

"I still can't believe you banished them," Much spoke suddenly, breaking the silence.

Djaq was agreeing silently, working up the hill after them.

"I didn't banish them," Robin replied quietly.

"What?" Much laughed, watching the man. "What would you call it then?"

"If you are banished you cannot return," Robin explained. "I never said they couldn't come back."

Djaq hurried up her pace, moving closer to the pair. "You mean that?"

"Of course," Robin sighed, turning towards her. "Everyone just needs some time to calm down, that's all."

"Right," Much agreed, "I knew that….but how are they supposed to know that?"

"I'm sure they'll figure it out soon enough," Robin commented, taking the lead once more. "They're smart."

"But why send them off?" Djaq asked. "Why not just back to camp?"

"Some things they have to figure out on their own. I can't have them questioning my leadership."

"Your leadership is always right?" Djaq asked.

"No," Robin was quick in answering. "There are mistakes, but they are in the past. We learn from them, and we move on. We cannot argue about them, it only divides us, I've seen it happen before."

"The war?" Much asked, prompting a nod from the man.

"It was not me," Robin explained. "Another crusader, Sir Daniel. He was a good man, a strong leader, but his men were not entirely convinced. Daniel tried to keep the differences at bay, he felt that by keeping strict with his men, they would not quarrel, or question him. The harder he pushed, the worse they became. Soon they stopped listening altogether, and began acting on their own accord. Then they were attacked, and everyone tried to do what they felt was best."

"What happened?" Djaq asked as the man paused.

Robin let out a sigh, shaking his head. "They were killed. Daniel made it out alive, but his men…they were greedy, and they stopped listening. For me, I would rather lose the trust of my men than have them lose their lives."

"They saved your life," Djaq pointed out, "We all did."

"Yes," Robin nodded, coming to a stop as he faced her. "Because we worked as group. The more we fight, the less of a group we become, the greater the risk. If we are all fighting for the same goal, we are stronger. Fight for different goals, then we are weak, we are vulnerable."

"But what if they do get killed?" Much asked, watching them. "You've always made the plans…"

"They will be fine," Robin reassured him.

"How?"

Djaq watched as Robin let out a sigh, placing a hand on Much's shoulder. "My friend, it is different for you, I understand. You have always followed me, and trusted me to lead, but they have not. They have been on their own before, they will know how to care for themselves. Now, let us go."

"Right," Much nodded, "Where are we going?"

"Locksley."

"Ah…why?"

"We will need food," Robin answered mildly.

"And Locksley will…have this food?"

There was no verbal response from the man, instead he merely grinned, turning away.

"You are going to steal from your own house?" Much cried out in alarm, hurrying after him. "That is…that is…"

"Genius," Djaq finished with a smile.

"It is my house Much, so truthfully I am not stealing."

"What about the food they took from our store?"

"Well, I gather it is in the castle by now, if Gisborne and his men did take it for sure. We may have been robbed by a handful of curious thieves for all we know."

"No honor among criminals?" Djaq wondered, shaking her head. England was certainly an interesting place. Back home, such a thing was unheard of, a sort of common brotherhood among the thieves. Yet who was she to question the custom of other countries?

"If the food is in the castle," Robin explained, "Then the Sheriff will be expecting us. I am not quite ready to race into another trap."

"Oh, so you need more time then?" Much nodded, scoffing. "That makes perfect sense. So what do you plan to do? Saunter in up to your house and tell Gisborne you are going to rob him?"

The man shrugged, "Something like that."

Carefully he wound the last corner around the branch of the tree, securing it with a firm knot. The blanket itself was small, but having been lashed together with several others, the material spread a good ways out, providing enough shelter for the three of them. The excess material cluttered on the top of the boulder they had chosen, weighed down by more even more rocks on top to keep the wind from blowing the makeshift cover up.

With a nod to himself, Will moved under the blanket, kicking out the excess dirt and debris, unrolling the flimsy bedroll next to the base of the boulder. It wasn't the greatest of camps, but for now it would have to do. When he and the others found a good location, Will would began construction on a more solid camp, but at the moment he had neither the time nor the materials.

"Not being funny, but you built that camp," Allan said, watching him work. "Shouldn't we be able to have it?"

He had felt that way too, but he also knew he had built it under Robin's instruction. Truth was that it did not matter who built it, it belonged to the person it was built for. "Robin's the leader, his call."

"This is fine," John agreed quietly, sitting down on a log. It had been surprising that the man had even come along, Will being certain that John would remain with Robin. Yet the man had said little, only following them through the forest carrying a satchel of goods.

"We should have taken more," Allan chimed in again. "We did half that work, we should get half the booty."

"We did take half," John told him. "There was not much to take."

"Most of it was in the storeroom," Will nodded, easing himself down on the bedroll.

"And if we had our own store back at camp, we would have more."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Will questioned Allan, watching him.

"Our own personal shares," he laughed. "Say we take some coins from a Nobleman, or a passing trade group. We keep some of those coins for ourselves. That way, we can take care of ourselves. Have money on our hands; buy ourselves a mug of ale, a warm piece of meat, whatever we want. Build a fortune you know. The King is going to come back sooner or later, we need provisions for the future."

"We need to help the poor," Will reminded him. "We can take care of ourselves just fine."

"But we can still help the poor," Allan argued, "we are the poor too you know. What about helping ourselves?"

"We do not help ourselves," John cut in.

"Fine," Allan shrugged. "You two can give your share away, but I'm keeping mine."

"Your share?" Will laughed, "Who says you even get a share?"

"If I am doing the work then I want my pay. This isn't an easy job."

"No, it isn't. We didn't ask for an easy job, we asked to do what was right. You want to do it your way, then you can leave."

Allan scoffed, "You can't kick me out."

"Yes I can."

"Who ever said you were in charge? This isn't your camp."

"I made this camp," Will reminded him.

"You made the last camp, and you left that one."

"My choice; and if I don't want you in my gang then you can leave."

"No one leaves," John broke in, quieting the quarreling pair. "We stay together."

"Yeah," Allan agreed, pointing towards him. "What he said."

"We do not take for ourselves," John spoke again, staring each one down. "We help the poor."

"How are we to do that then?"

Will let out a sigh, sitting up. "We need to find our food. Gisborne would have taken it back to the castle. We have to figure out a way in."

"I know several ways, but honestly, I am not risking my neck for a bunch of peasants who are just going to thank Robin in the end."

"John and I will find a way in ourselves then," Will nodded, thinking it over now. There would be a lot of cleaning going on, taking care of the mess that had been left after the dance. A lot more guards, a lot more eyes. The main courtyard and hall was off limits. But the sewage systems would still be open…

"We can go around the north entrance, and use the shoots…"

"Won't work," Allan cut him off. "You ever think about how much garbage they'll all be throwing out after a party like that? You'll drown in sewage if you're lucky enough to not get caught."

Will let out a sigh, shaking his head. "Fine Allan, you can have your share. If…you help us get into the castle."

"With pleasure," Allan replied, a smile playing on his face. "This way gentleman, we are going to Nottingham."

It was dark by the time they had reached Locksley, Robin leading the way as they ran the length of the village, hugging the edge of the forest. The man came to a stop behind an old broken fence, hood up as he glanced over the top. By now everyone was indoors, most of the peasants asleep. Yet the one house he was interested was still brimming with light.

More guards had been added outside his house, convincing Robin that something indeed was going on. He turned back to Much and Djaq, giving them a slight nod before moving off once again. In strategic patterns, they moved closer to their destination, coming around from the behind. The store for Locksley was in back, sealed tightly, but the former Lord of Locksley had learned quickly how to pick the lock. A handy trait whenever he had misplaced the keys, and it would prove even more useful now.

Checking his surroundings one last time Robin made his way quietly towards the store, pulling free a small dagger. Quickly he worked it into the lock, prying it open with little hassle in only moments. Djaq and Much were at his side shortly after as Robin opened the doors, his ears straining for any sign that they had been heard. Yet it was quiet, a promising feature.

"Move what you can back to the trees, and hide it well. We will find a better spot when we have more time," he told the pair quietly. "I will return shortly."

"Where are you going?" Much asked worriedly, grabbing him by the arm to keep him from moving.

Robin shook him off, turning back to face him. "There is something I must do."

"No," he shook his head, "You cannot go in there. You barely made it out last time."

"I will be back," Robin told him, waiting until the other man nodded with a sigh. Robin gave him a short smile, a single nod, and then was off, moving along the house carefully.

With a short jump he grasped the bottom of the roof, pulling himself up with a soft groan. His side was still hurting from where Gisborne had hit him earlier, and his body protested against the strenuous movement. Once he had made the climb, Robin paused for a breath, hand pressed against the throbbing wound. Shortly it died to a dull throb, and the man began moving once more, taking care to keep his eyes on the guards in front.

They were talking idly, trying to keep themselves occupied during the long watch. Robin listened intently, picking up their words, but moved on when it was nothing of importance. As he reached the top window, he took his time peering inside, watching as the man moved about the room, sitting down on the bed. The door was closed, and Robin knew that now was the perfect time to move.

Collin was on his feet moments after Robin was in the room, the worry on his face being replaced by irritation. "Robin, you shouldn't be here."

"This is my house," Robin told him quietly, moving over to the door to listen. It was quiet, a good sign. "I think you'll find I can be here when I wish to be."

"If Gisborne sees you up here…"

"You'll what?" Robin cut him off, "tell him more of our secrets?"

"I didn't have a choice," Collin told him angrily.

"Everything is a choice, everything we do."

"So my choice was to hang?" Collin questioned him. "Truthfully it was your fault; you shouldn't have been here in the first place. Gisborne knew; now I am under constant watch by him because he does not trust me. The slightest of mistakes and I'll be taken to the gallows."

"My men and I would have gotten you out," Robin reminded him.

"I was to hang this morning," he argued, "you wouldn't have even known."

"So you betray me instead?"

"Showing Gisborne the food store is hardly betrayal Robin."

"No? What about the villagers? What will they eat? Where are we to store our provisions?"

"I could have taken him to your camp," he spat out.

Collin was a man with quick reflexes, but not even he could stop Robin. The blade of the dagger was pressed up under his chin, forcing him against the wall as Robin drew closer, the anger clear in his voice. "Do not, cross me."

"So you will kill me instead?"

Robin let out a sigh, pulling back almost as quick as he had attacked. No, he would not kill, that anger and passion had left him long ago back in the Holy Lands. Yet it did not mean that he wished to kill. Collin was rubbing his neck gently, a cross of worry and relief on his face.

"You are lucky," Robin whispered to him quietly. "You ever, cross me again, and I will kill you."

His gaze left the other man's, turning towards the door as footsteps could be heard echoing through the room. That was his cue to leave, and Robin didn't waste any time in leaping back out the window, holding the railing for support.

Out of sight, Robin remained near the open window, listening as the door opened. He chanced a glance over the rim, watching as Gisborne entered the room, walking about the other man. Collin's gaze flicked towards the window, meeting his briefly, but the man turned away as Gisborne began to speak.

"Who were you speaking with?"

Robin held his breath, watching, waiting. If Collin was to betray him here then he would have to depart very, very quickly. His only hope was that Much and Djaq would be finished, or close enough to provide easy comfort.

"No one in particular Sir Guy," Collin answered, "Just myself. It helps me to think."

"Does it now?" Gisborne shook his head. "Interesting."

"I was just about to bed down for the night sir. If you don't mind."

"I do," Gisborne told him quietly. "You are taking the night watch, a little reminder to what your loyalties are. Prove to me that I can trust you."

Another possible difficulty; Robin watched, his eyes never leaving the man inside.

"How," Collin asked.

"This consignment of silver is heading out in the days to come, towards Nottingham Castle. I would be very displeased if something were to happen to it."

"We are guarding silver?"

Silver? Surely it had to be a rather large amount, if it called for this many guards. Could that really be the only reason for all of this?

"Did I stutter?" Gisborne asked, receiving a negative from the other man. "You will take the night watch alone, no breaks. I still expect your morning duties to be done on time as well."

Collin's only answer was an affirmative, his voice quiet but tainted heavily with discontent. Robin felt only a twinge of sorrow for the man, but let it pass quickly. The man had betrayed him, and there was no telling what other lies he would spill in order to save his own neck.

Robin left the open window, moving as Guy left the room, scaling the rooftop easily. If there was a chest of silver, the easiest time to snag it would be during the forest trek. He and the others knew the lay of the land well enough; they could use it to their advantage.

"A consignment of silver? But it hasn't even arrived yet."

Robin came to a pause, his ears straining. Had he just truly heard that? Carefully he stepped over the weak patches in the roof, coming near another window, risking a glance inside. Gisborne was moving through the room, another guard at his heels.

"You and I are the only ones who know this. I wish for it to remain that way. It would be rather unfortunate if word got out."

"Sorry Sir Guy, I just don't see much point in guarding an empty chest. Surely there are more important tasks we could attend to?"

"If the man is feeding information to Hood, Robin will surely attack the decoy on the way. He's done it once before, the Sheriff is certain it will work again. I want you to feed this story to the villagers, let them know that it will be coming through the village. Tell them they have to remain indoors."

"Why?"

"Because," Guy stressed, the irritation in his voice real. "We want make sure Hood goes after the chest, which will give us time to get the shipment in, and prepare it for its departure to Prince John."

Robin bit his lip to suppress the curse that threatened to leave his lips. Another trap…but where was the silver coming from? More importantly was there any way in retrieving it before it arrived?

Yet he would get no further information, the pair leaving the room, concealing the rest of their discussion. Robin pulled away as his name was being called, Much waving to him from below. With a short nod he moved to the edge, first lowering himself down then dropping the rest of the way, landing silently. There was a lot that had to be done in the coming days.

TBC