And yet another chapter. Thanks for the continually feedback, appreciate it very much!

Chapter Eight: Leaders

In the end they had decided to bring the food back to the camp. Robin wasn't entirely sure how safe their other stores were at the moment, and wanted everything close by just in case. He had taken the time to stop by the barn before leaving Locksley, passing a bit of food to his former servants, leaving them with wise words to keep it well hidden. When Gisborne discovered the theft the man would more and likely cut their food back, blaming them. Robin had wanted to make sure that they had enough food.

Between the three of them it had been manageable to carry everything back. It was no great feast, but it would feed several of the villagers into the next week while they sorted out a plan of action. Having half the group gone was actually helpful at the moment, for it provided them with an area to store the food temporarily.

Much was quick in making a fire, Djaq busying herself with sharpening the knives used for hunting. Though there were many things Robin could be doing, the only thing his body craved was respite from the long day. Questions of his own actions were working their way through his mind, the man wondering if what he had done was right, but worrying more if the others were doing well.

Silently he convinced himself that they were. John had been an outlaw years before Robin had even ventured off to war, and knew quite a bit more about the forest life than any of them did. The man would keep an eye on Will and Allan, and ensure their safety. Yet even this knowledge did not ease all of his worries.

Robin let out a groan as he sat down, a hand crossing his chest to hold his side as the injury protested at the movement. It had been throbbing with a dull ache since leaving Nottingham, and now it burned with a steady pain. After a moment the ache lessened, dying away to a tender throb as Robin closed his eyes.

"You hurt."

Robin nodded, letting out a breath as he did so. There really was no point in trying to deny it, and knew that Djaq would see to him despite any protests he gave. Still the pressure from her touch caused him to flinch, drawing in a sharp breath as he opened his eyes.

"Robin's hurt?" Much asked worriedly, glancing up over the fire. "How? Where?"

"It's nothing Much," Robin reassured him, "I'm fine."

"Not good," Djaq shook her head, pulling away. "You are bleeding, why did you not say something?"

"I was busy," he replied crossly, pulling off his shirt, already knowing the drill that had been so forcefully pounded into his head. He was able to glance at it for the first time, letting out a groan as saw where the stitching had broken. At this rate he was nearly convinced that he would live the remainder of his days with a hole in his side.

"We could tie him up," Much suggested, roasting a bit of meat of the fire. "Just leave him like that until he gets better."

Robin let out a sigh, shaking his head. "Much…it is almost better now. Gisborne just got lucky, that is all."

"It needs to be cleaned," Djaq broke in, mixing several ingredients together. "You will get an infection if you do not."

"And then another fever," Much chided him. "I refuse to go through that again."

"Yes," Robin resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Several weeks of sleeping and stuffing your face while I was ill was so difficult for you."

"I resent that," the man stated coldly. "I thought you were going to die. Then what would I have done?"

"Well you could have always gone with Sir Thomas, you seemed to enjoy his company well enough."

Much shook his head, glancing up at him. "I loathe that man, he likes to talk far too often. But he did make the most wonderful stew," he let out a placid sigh. "I miss his stew."

"Is that why you always disappeared during the evenings?" Robin wondered. "You told me you were taking walks."

"I was," Much defended himself. "If my walks happen to take me across his tent at the same time he was eating, then there really isn't a lot I can do about it, is there?"

Robin let out a laugh, shaking his head. Sometimes it seemed like all you had to do was offer the man a piece of food, and you would forever have his loyalty. Robin wasn't quite sure if that was a good thing or not. His grin faded away as Djaq returned, supplies in hand.

"Drink," she pressed the cup into his hand.

"What is this for?"

"It will help," Djaq responded, moving to her knees next to him.

"It doesn't hurt that bad," Robin told her, offering the cup back. At the moment, he preferred to keep a clear mind. There were still many issues he wanted to sort through. But she was shaking her head.

"It will help me."

"Then why do I have to drink it?"

"Last time you had a fit, it was not easy for me," Djaq reminded him.

"I did not have a fit," Robin argued, fighting off the grin that was sneaking on his face. "I just had a lot to say."

"Drink."

He let out a sigh, shaking his head. Sometimes there were battles you could not win, and he had a sinking suspicion that this was one of them. "Will it really help?"

She nodded, "Yes."

He smelled it cautiously before taking a sip, finishing it off at her prompting. It had a bitter flavor, but it wasn't too entirely unpleasant. Yet even as he handed the cup back he could feel the warmth racing through his body, and the heaviness that was accompanied by it.

"You drugged me."

Djaq nodded, smiling at him. "Like I said, it will help."

The entire process of it all still amazed him. He was not a man of medicine, and did not understand the full properties of the science. Yet to Djaq, it was as clear and natural as archery was too him. She could understand it, control it, and use it without any effort, and it gave her a strength and a power that he could not match. It was the same way he felt each time he drew his bow.

"Do not fight it," she told him, meeting his weary gaze, "Just sleep."

Slowly he nodded; trusting her words even his world drew dark. Sleeping was easy part, but it was the waking that worried him.

Reluctantly, Will held back and let Allan take the lead. The outlaw had woven his words well, and had managed to convince him that he knew what he was doing. The problem with the man remained the fact that one could not tell when he was telling the truth, or exaggerating a lie. In either case, Will was out of ideas, and he knew that they needed to get that food, and soon. So he had backed down.

Together he and John were waiting outside of Nottingham, blending in with the others who were homeless and penniless. With a closer look one could tell that they were not like the others, but the beggars had never presented a threat, and Will knew they would not give their position away. Instead they seemed to watch the pair hopefully, yearning for even the smallest of handouts. Will knew that his was why they needed that food.

People were starving, and for those who had survived the winter, the spring was giving them little promise. Soon they would begin to lose their faith in them, believing that Robin had forgotten them. Will let out an impatient sigh, glancing over his shoulder. Where was Allan?

Sometimes he despised the man, such as now. He knew Allan had been right, that their efforts would be overseen, and the people of England would thank Robin. How long would that last, he wondered? When would people begin to thank them as individuals? Everyone knew Robin, all you had to say was that you were one of his men, and instantly people would trust you. But to use your own name?

To say you were Will Scarlet, or John Little, or even Allan-A-Dale and their brows would furrow, and they'd look at you in confusion. Will shook his head. It wasn't that he needed gratitude, but he wished it wouldn't be given away to someone else. He let out another sigh, pacing around to the other side of John.

"He will be here."

Will met John's gaze, "He should be here now. Every minute that passes by is another that the hungry continue to starve."

"Patience," John encouraged him. "We will do this."

He let out a breath, nodding. He had to be patient, he had to wait, had to trust Allan. That was what being a leader was about, it was about trusting others, about having faith in your men. Will nodded, trying to calm himself. Allan had parted from them nearly an hour ago, informing them to wait near the gate. He had claimed there was something they needed, something that would help them, but he wouldn't say what. And as time went by, Will couldn't help but think something had happened.

The thought worried him, because he knew Allan was his responsibility now. The same responsibility that Robin had once held for him. They made their own decisions, he knew, but Will knew that this plan was ultimately his. If Allan had been hurt, or even killed…

That had to be it; Will let out a regretful sigh, shaking his head. What else could it be? What else could have possibly happened? True, Allan wasn't always exact true to his word, but he was a decent man, you could usually count on him. Unless…

Will frowned now, huffing softly. Unless the man was taking his own share once again. It was what he had been wanting all along, and he had been ready to do so before, with Gisborne's money. Allan's quick words, and trickery had almost convinced him to travel to Scarborough and start a new life as well, which in turn led to abandoning Robin when had needed them most of all. If this was what Allan was doing now…

Will let out an impatient sigh, pacing back to the other side once more. He never made it though, John grabbing him by the arm and holding him still. "Enough."

It surprised him at first, but then he let out a lopsided smile, offering up an apology. "I'm just worried something will go wrong, that is all."

"We can do this," John encouraged him. "Allan will come."

Will nodded, calming himself once again. Yes, the man would come. Will repeated it over in his head. He had to come, they were counting on him.

"What if he doesn't?"

"He will," John cut him off. "Be patient. Wait."

"I hate waiting."

Will folded his arms in front of his chest, leaning against the bridge. The sun hung low in the sky, beginning to dip behind the tree line, casting shades of red across the clouds. Soon it would be dark, and the gates to Nottingham would close. If they didn't hurry…

Will knew they could scale the walls, they had done so before with minor difficulty, but that was when it was just themselves. They would have cargo with them, and the more they were able to carry, the better off they would be. His gaze shifted as the footfalls sounded on the bridge, the unmistakable trot of a horse and wagon drawing to a halt.

John's arm landed on his shoulder, the man motioning to the driver. Will had already seen him, confusion being replaced quickly by amusement. Allan sat at the front, disguised as a peddler, driving the old cart with confidence. For a brief moment their gazes met, and Allan nodded his head towards the back, turning to greet the guards without missing a single beat.

John had already moved, leaving Will behind. But he was quick in catching up, keeping low to the ground as he came up from behind. An old blanket covered the top of the cart, and John had pulled it open enough to slip inside, motioning for Will to go first. With little time, the man did not argue, instead climbing in head first, sliding down towards the front to make room for John.

It was damp, caked with mud and bits of dried dirt, creating an unpleasant atmosphere. Will took short breaths, wrinkling his nose at the thick odor as he listened to Allan sweet talk the guards. If there was one thing he could say, it was that Allan had a way with words. Sometimes he was so convincing in telling a lie that Will would believe it to be true himself for a short time. But then, when that was all one did, it became second nature, and the person would do it without any real thought.

He counted to ten, pausing for a moment before counting back down. They still hadn't moved, and Will's stomach tightened, worried that Allan's ploy was beginning to fail. What would happen if they were caught? They hadn't been charged with anything as of yet, he knew, and the chance of them being recognized as outlaws was slim. Still, even the smallest of things could result in the biggest of consequences.

But as the fears began to build, they were quickly forgotten as the cart jerked, falling quickly into a steady pace. They were moving once more, and despite his impatience, Will forced himself to wait a good measure longer before slipping out from under the heavy blanket.

Fresh air was a blessing, and he took a full breath, moving up to sit next to Allan. John too had broken out in the open, but kept low in the wagon to hide from anyone who might happen to pass by. The streets were nearly empty at this hour, and the guards hardly paid any attention to the traveling trio, more content with worrying about when they would be able to retire for the night.

"Told you I'd come through," Allan spoke, breaking the silence.

"I never said you wouldn't."

"You thought it," he accused.

"How would you know?"

Allan laughed, shaking his head, "Are you going to deny it?"

Will watched him for a moment, then shook his head. "You were taking a long time."

"I told you I had to get somethin' and I did."

"Where did you get this?"

Allan let out a sigh, but he was smiling still. "Robin and I found it in the forest a few months back. Thinkin' someone lost it in one of the winter storms. It was in decent shape, but we didn't need it for nothing. Not then anyways. So I went back to see if it was still there."

"You followed a hunch?"

"Well, you follow your hunches. It's come in handy several times now."

Will nodded, knowing that to be true. He wanted to point out that his hunches were different than Allan's, and therefore more dependable, but he had a feeling that he would not only lose that argument, but he would lose Allan's help as well.

"Not to pry, but how is this going to get us inside the castle? You said you could get us in."

"We don't need to get in the castle. Several of the stores are outside, and they're easy to get in to."

Will frowned, watching him. "How do you know? Robin's never said anything about them."

"Robin doesn't know," Allan returned, grinning slyly. "I consider it my own personal stash. If Robin started taking it, the Sheriff and Gisborne would stop using it, and then what would I do?"

He raised an eyebrow, watching the other man. "And if it disappears now…they're not going to wonder?'

Allan shrugged, "Won't need it anymore, not after I get my share. I'll be in business, won't need it for anything."

"Right," Will nodded, rolling his eyes as he turned away. He wouldn't complain, not as long as they were able to get the stores back out safely. "Given any thought on how we are going to get back out?"

"Through the morning traffic run. They're be enough going on that we can ride right on out of here without any problems."

"In the morning?" Will shook his head quickly. "We can't wait that long."

"Unless you want to figure a way out through a locked gate with a cart," Allan argued with him. "Besides, we have to wait to load the cart. If we do it too early, then someone will notice. Do it during the night, and leave in the morning."

He didn't much like the idea, but the day was already falling victim to the coming night, and Will knew that chances of slipping back out without drawing attention was slim. They would have to wait, and bide their time, just as Robin had done many of times. Gripping the side of the cart Will turned to look at John who still sat in back, the man nodding in quiet agreement at their conversation.

"Fine, we wait," Will stated. "What do we do until then?"

Allan pulled off the road, bringing the horse to a stop before he moved off the cart. "Whatever it is you want my friend. I, am going to the tavern. Come with, if you'd like."

Will exchanged glances with John, and then shook his head with a dumbfounded look. "You don't have any money, what are going to do?"

"Remedy that situation first," Allan told him, "Then have a bit of ale. What do you say?"

"I'm in," John said quickly, moving off the cart.

"This is a bad idea," Will cut in. "What if someone recognizes us?"

"Robin's not with us," Allan pointed out, "besides, anyone in here is probably too drunk to really know what's going on anyway. You can come in, or stay out here in the cold."

"Fine," Will let out a sigh, "one drink…then we finish the job."

When he woke the weak rays of the morning sun were dancing through the camp, which was strange, since he did not remember even sleeping. It felt as though mere moments had passed since he had closed his eyes, and though he was still resting in the same position, the slight ache in his limbs suggested otherwise. Slowly memory returned to him, but it was muddled, and Robin let out a sigh, working his way out of the blanket that had been tucked around him.

His side pulled painfully as he did, and Robin could see that his wound had been cleaned and dressed sometime during the night. Memory flared in his mind as his fingers brushed over the material gently, and he could remember Djaq, and the strange concoction she had made him drink. Though it had alarmed him then, Robin had been grateful for it overall. He felt worn, and tired, but overall calm, a feeling he hadn't sensed in quite some time.

He was alone in the camp though, the voices of the others drifting in from the outside, and Robin wasted little time in working his shirt back on, moving to his feet carefully. The warmth of full sun greeted him as he stepped outside, holding onto the top of the camp as he allowed his body to continue waking up.

"You're awake," Djaq commented, seeing him. "I was starting to worry."

"Why?" Robin asked, worried himself now.

"You slept for a long time," she commented, turning back to face Much. The pair sat around a small fire not too far out from the camp itself. "You were only supposed to sleep for a few hours, yet you slept all night, and some of the morning. You were tired."

Robin nodded, fighting off a yawn as he glanced around the area. He had been tired, he still was tired. Part of him wondered if he would ever feel any differently. Robin had convinced himself it was the weather, and the injuries, the troubled times he had been through. Surely when all of that was behind him, things would be more normal.

He continued to stay where he was, letting each memory slowly return. It felt as though he was waking from a heavy dream, and trying feebly to establish fiction from reality. He could remember bits and parts, in a jumbled mess, and for a moment cursed Djaq's attempted helpfulness, because there was something nagging at his mind that seemed important, but he couldn't figure out what it was.

"Where is the food?" he asked suddenly, grasping the memory as it wandered by. He could remember carrying it back the night before, but now there was nothing.

"We uh, we took it to the villages," Much told him. "While you were sleeping."

"You left me here?" Robin asked him, slightly alarmed. "Alone…while I was drugged?"

"It was Djaq's idea really," Much laughed nervously, pointing towards the Saracen.

"You were sleeping," she commented, "We needed something to do."

Though he didn't agree with the logic he knew it was far too late to argue about it. No one had been able to find their camp before, so in truth there was no real threat. "You cover all the villages?"

Much shook his head, "Most, but there wasn't enough. We even gave up most of our own food. I didn't want to, but Djaq threa…" the man fell quiet, and Robin nearly missed the glare that the woman gave him. "Djaq said it would be best to give them our food too…and I, agreed…."

Robin let out a laugh, shaking his head. For Much to part with anything edible was near a death sentence to the man. Even he had difficulties convincing him, so it was a wonder to exactly what Djaq had threatened to force him to do so. Robin's gaze left the pair, searching the forest around them with a solemn frown.

"Where are the others?"

"Others?" Much questioned, the expression on his face matching the one on Djaq's. "You sent them away…don't you remember?"

Robin remained silent for a moment, shaking his head as the memory returned. "Right…I forgot."

"Is that normal?" Much asked, pointing at him.

Djaq nodded with a small grin. "It is only temporary. It will wear off soon."

Robin watched her with a frown, raising an eyebrow, "And you left me here alone?"

There were times he was not sure he entirely trusted the judgment of his group, this being one of those times. There were many thoughts racing through his mind now as he continued to wake up. He could remember sending the others off, could remember Locksley, could remember Collin.

The unwanted pain returned at the thought, and as much as he tried to brush it off he couldn't. The truth was that he barely knew the man; he had wanted to trust him, be able to count on him when and if needed. The fact Collin had saved his life was only the beginning. The man had ties to his past, to his family that the others did not have. Not even Much, who was his dear friend, and had been for many years.

The worst of it all was the fact that the others had been right about him. They had never trusted him, and now Robin knew why. He had been blinded, had been a fool to so openly trust him. Even now though, Robin couldn't fathom why Collin had led Gisborne to their store. Surely there were other options the man could have taken.

I could have taken him to the camp.

The words echoed in his mind clearly now, and Robin knew that the man was right. A true betrayer would had led Gisborne straight to camp, unless he was biding time to wait for something better. But why wait for so long? If Collin was truly in league with the Sheriff and Gisborne, he would have spoken up earlier.

Quietly he let out a laugh, realizing his own errors. Collin had rescued him from the dungeons, the same dungeons that the Sheriff and Gisborne had him in. If the man truly wanted to help the pair, Collin would have let him hang instead of risking his own neck.

"You're not going mad are you?" Much asked, breaking into his thoughts.

The man was watching him, and Robin gave him a smile. "Why would you ask that?"

"You are standing on a hill laughing at nothing and no one," the man pointed out, turning to Djaq. "How much of that stuff did you give him?"

"I am not going mad," Robin convinced him, grinning as he moved down to join the pair.

"Never mind," Much told him quietly. "I don't want to know, I don't want to know even if you wanted to tell me. I don't want to hear any of your ideas, I just want to stay here, and sleep."

"We need to find out when that silver is coming in," Robin replied, easing himself on the ground carefully.

"Not listening," he interrupted, "I want to sleep…and dream of a feast…the feast we could have had…the feast we gave away…"

"You said it would not be in for a few days yet," Djaq responded. "How will you find out?"

"We need to go back to Locksley, and speak with the villagers."

Much frowned, watching him, "I thought you said the villagers were being fed false information."

"I thought you weren't listening," Robin mocked him quietly, wrapping his arms around his knees. "And yes, they are, for the most part."

"That doesn't make sense," Much stated quietly. "You already know the silver is not going to be in the chest. What's the point in asking them then?"

"The action does not matter," Robin explained, "It is the time. Gisborne expects us to go after the chest, so that they can bring the silver in."

"So when the decoy goes out," Djaq cut in, understanding now, "The silver will be coming in."

"Exactly," Robin nodded, "and villagers will know when the chest will be going out, and that's all we need to know."

TBC

To Marjatta: At the moment, Robin seems to be giving Collin more grief than he deserves, but that will be attended to in later chapters. There are many things Robin could have done to handle things better, but with every action there is a reaction, and it helps advance the story along. Robin does have a bit of history with Collin, which was explored a bit in this chapter, and will be in coming chapters, but for now it is just a bit of tidbits here and there. And no, Robin does not assume Collin is setting up the trap, Gisborne gave the orders without knowing Robin was there, I think we may have had a miscommunication there. I hope this helps clear up some of the confusion!