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Thanks to Kegel for the beta, any further mistakes that were missed belong to me.

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Chapter Eleven: In Due Time

Robin had stayed in Nottingham long enough to witness the departure of the three men. He trusted Will's judgment enough, but habits were old and he would not part till he knew of their safety. Once reassured Robin had seen his own way out, disappearing into Sherwood in the opposite direction they had gone. They had been lucky, for there was no telling what would have happened if the trio had indeed gone after the decoy. Worse yet, separate as they were now, Robin could not convince himself that he would have known of their trials if they were captured.

They were all grown men, he knew, and along with that came responsibility for themselves. Robin could no longer dictate them, or guide them through what he felt was best, but the worry grew that if something did happen to any of them, the blame would still lie with him. It had been through his choice that had led them all to become outlaws, and wanted by the Sheriff and Gisborne to the point that torture and death would follow shortly should any of them be caught.

Then again reason was in his mind, for both Will and Allan would have been dead without his actions, the same actions Robin held highly. He would not abandon his decisions, and hard as it was he would have to respect Will's decision. Respect was a funny thing, because though he demanded it unintentionally, it was hard for him to return it just as well.

The feelings eased with his reasoning, and Robin trekked ever onward towards their camp, covering his tracks carefully. Nottingham was the gravest of risks for them all, with so many faces about, it was hard to tell who was a friend and who might be a foe, and who may actually be crazy enough to try and follow them through the forest. Robin would rather prevent a problem before it started, and risk his own well-being to ensure the safety of his men.

Yet it was quiet, as it had been many times before and he pressed on with little care, nearing the camp as the sun was hanging low in the sky. Robin had given himself the full day, not knowing if he could find Will in time, or at all, and wanting the time in case something ill should happen. Even as early as he was, Much and Djaq were waiting, sitting about idly. They greeted his return with enthusiasm, the pair spouting off what they knew, inquiring already to plans and ideas that he might have.

Robin held out his hands, silencing the both of them with a short smile. "One at a time, alright? Where is the silver?"

"Locksley," Djaq answered, "In your house. Two chests, wooden."

"And double the guards," Much added, leaning on his sword. "I hope you have a plan, because we can't fight them all."

"I'm working on it," Robin responded, folding his arms.

"We could always storm Locksley," Much suggested, "You always seem to enjoy the plans that involve certain death."

Robin scoffed, grinning, "Too messy, my friend, and too sudden."

"Funny…you just want the glory," the man protested. "No glory in robbing your own house, is there?"

Robin laughed, clapping the man on the back as he walked by. "We will figure something out; how long do we have?"

"I heard Gisborne say the silver will depart in three days," Djaq answered, following him. "Guards will be there every day, every night, Gisborne as well. There are too many to slip by, Robin. What will we do?"

Robin let out a sigh, sitting at the base of the camp, his elbows resting on his knees. "Any convoy would be well guarded, and they would expect an attack out in the open. At the moment it is out of the public's eye, so they will feel more secure, more secure means less guards, less worry. A perfect time to strike would be dusk, or at first light, when the guards are most likely to be changing rounds."

"Wouldn't that be the worst time?" Much wondered, "Guards going off shift, guards coming on. That's like…twice as many."

"And a guard at the end of his round is going to be tired, and wanting to turn in. Especially after an evening or night shift," Robin explained. "You remember our watches back in Acre; the nights seemed longer simply because nothing was happening. It is no different here. Even more so when they feel there is no threat."

"There are still many guards Robin," Djaq said quietly, watching him. "We cannot take them all. We need the others."

"We don't have the others," he sighed quietly. "We will have to make do."

"We can find them, they would help us," Much offered, but Robin was shaking his head.

He didn't wish to speak of them, knowing the criticism he would get for not bringing them back. Robin had no choice in that matter, but the others wouldn't understand, even more so after the near incident in Nottingham. Much would berate him, Djaq would hold it against him. Robin was no fool, and he knew knowledge that the others didn't have would not harm anyone, and so he chose not to speak of it, directing the conversation away subtly.

"We use the cover of darkness…Djaq, do you think you can make something to give us a distraction? A small fire somewhere…something that will draw attention but not cause much damage?'

"Smoke," she answered quietly. "Gives appearance of a fire, but no flames."

"Good," Robin gave her a nod. "Make it close to the house, but near the front. We will go in through the back, and if there is any luck with us, we will be out that way soon enough as well."

"This has no sense," Much shook his head, "I mean, how do we even know the silver is there for sure? What if it's another trap?"

"To what point or purpose?" Robin questioned him, but faltered as the words reverberated in his head. Slowly he smiled, glancing up at the man.

"You, my friend, are a genius."

"Clearly," Much agreed, smiling at the comment for a brief moment before it faded to a frown. "Why?"

It was a disheartening find, having returned to the forest empty handed after having spent the entire day on a mission that did not even start to see its way through to the end. Still, things could have been worse, Will knew. But even that small thought did not cheer him. Instead the anger at a full day wasted and his own foolishness and misguidance ate away at him from the inside.

There had been numerous questions from both John and Allan, inquiring to why they were leaving, and how he had known. It had been followed with a brief argument, forcing Will to finally reveal it was Robin who had told him. John said nothing to the matter, the man knowing and understanding that Robin was still watching out for them despite this disagreement that had happened in the days prior. Allan, however, had taken a volatile reaction towards it.

The man had claimed it was a ploy, that Robin was swindling them into believing a falsehood so that the man could take the money for himself. Will would have believed him, too…if Robin was truly like that. As arrogant as Robin had been lately, a stunt such as that was well below the man's moral and the concern that had been in the man's voice was genuine. Thankfully John had agreed, and Allan lost the argument shortly after.

Despite being angry and disappointed, Allan had still followed them back to the woods. It was surprising for Will, who had expected him to go off on his own. Though Allan had returned to the tavern, he had not stolen nor had he divulged in any fresh drinks. It gave Will the slightest bit of hope, knowing that his men were starting to listen to him.

There had never been a clear establishment of who the leader was, but Will had assumed the role without question. But simply stating yourself as the leader wasn't easy, because it required the compliance of the men who resided with you. John hadn't questioned him, but Allan had been a constant threat to his authority. But Will had never asked for him to stay. Why the man continued to do so was beyond Will's comprehension.

They were stuck in a constant quarrel. Allan saw the world different than he did, seeking out a profit or a loss and only seeing those two extremes. Will was more focused on helping everyone, believing in equality amongst the rich and the poor. He had never held to authority very well, believing the rich to be scoundrels who had been granted an easy life from birth without any hard work.

Will had watched his father work hard everyday, had pulled his own fair share of labor in the past years. And for all their hard effort he had watched his mother die, and his father suffer. All the while the nobles supped luxuriously without any thought to those who were truly in need. His past strongly suggested that he should be at a difference with Robin simply because the man was a noble, but Will knew it was his manner, not his stature, that created that difference.

Whether Allan had suffered or not was unknown to Will. The man had gotten through life by riding on one scam to the next, using other's misfortunes for his own advantage. There were many talents he bore, but used unwisely they could be catastrophic. There was an inkling in his mind that Allan would actually leave the forest if given a high enough price. Sometimes it was a wonder if the man even had a conscience.

Will let out a sigh, smiling to himself quietly. He knew the man did, for he had seen the tenderness and compassion in his eyes from one occasion to the next. From the time they had saved the little babe Seth, Gisborne's son, from certain death, and the time Allan had pleaded with Robin to let his brother Tom join in hopes to set the misled man straight. There had been pain in his eyes upon the discovery of Tom's death, and real emotion when he assumed that Marian had died as well.

Yes, Allan was a good man, but it was intermingled with greed and the want for gratitude and payment for the work he had done. That was a trait that would never change, but Will prayed the man would keep it at bay, for everyone's sake if not for his own.

And John…John had been kind and sensitive, quiet but faithful, following wherever he would lead. The man still held the same values that Robin had once taught them. Robin had saved Alice, John's wife, and given her a chance to lead a new life with their son. It was hard for John to see them go, Will knew. He understood what losing a family was like. His own father and brother had set out for Scarborough nearly a year ago.

Yet seeing the compassion Robin had held for the poor, it had been motivating for the older man, who had spent half a lifetime in the trees, stealing and scrounging whatever he could to survive. He had put his motives to better use now, and Will welcomed any help he would give warmly.

"So?"

Will looked up from where he sat, his thoughts drifting away at the sound of the voice. Allan was watching him intently, and Will only shrugged, shaking his head. "What?"

"What's the plan?"

Plan…it caused him to frown. It hadn't crossed his mind to figure out what they would do next, and Will quietly chastised himself. The silver was a loss; there was nothing they could do about that, but they could prepare for what was to come.

"We need to find a place to store our provisions," he answered quietly. "I can build another one easily enough, but we need to find some solid ground, and the face of the cliff. Maybe near the caves."

"I meant about the silver," Allan corrected him.

"There's nothing we can do," Will responded. "The silver is in Locksley, we were tricked."

Allan scoffed quietly, "You know how much that silver will feed the poor? Not just talking days or weeks, my friend, but months."

"You just want the silver for yourself."

"Well, my share yeah," Allan nodded, "Only fair. You want it as well, right?"

Will bit his lip, sighing. It was true, he did want it. He wanted it out of Gisborne's hands, out of the Sheriff's…the money could be useful, it could save lives. The people of England deserved better, but it was too risky. There was no telling in how many guards there would be, or even where the silver would be. Gisborne had gone to great lengths to bait them with a decoy; surely the real chest would be well hidden in the village.

"Come on," Allan rebutted, seeing the look on his face. "We've done stuff like this before, we can do it now."

"We had Robin before," Will reminded him. "And Djaq and Much. There is a difference between three people and six."

"We dun' need Robin. Besides, we will figure out a different plan. We won't need six people, just three. We have to try."

"Allan…" Will let out a breath, trying to find some way to reason with the man. It was madness; even with John's strength, and Allan's trickery, they would not get far. They would need numbers, and that was something they were lacking. He could remember Robin's words, his encouragement to take the chest out together. That surely would mean that Robin would not even try the silver. If their former leader would not try, what motivation was left for them to attempt the same feat in question?

"We try."

Will's gaze was pulled away this time, to where Little John sat, watching the exchange quietly. He gave Will a firm nod, clearing his throat.

"We try; if we can't, we can't, but we must try."

Will swallowed painfully, nodding. The only part that worried him was the simple fact of what would await them if they did try, and fail. The memory of what happened to Robin had not diminished, and though Will had claimed to be ready to take such a punishment, he knew it was more a slur of words than an actual truth. He was not ready for torture, or the prospect of dying. Nor was he willing to sacrifice John or Allan.

"We do this, together," John encouraged him.

"To Locksley?" Will questioned quietly. Both John and Allan nodded, and he felt a little relieved. They would have to try, he knew. Else it would all be in vain. There was hope, if they took it slowly, and learned the truths first rather than rushing in blindly. He would be more aware of his surroundings, and scout the village first before entering; keeping in mind what Robin had taught him earlier.

"To Locksley then."

The night air wasn't as bad tonight as it had been the last few nights. It was warmer, but even still he could see his breath. His uniform provided moderate warmth, but the open-faced helmet, the thin gloves…these were the areas of weakness. Here the chill pierced deeper, sending shivers up and down his spine. Slowly he passed the bow from one hand to the other, bringing his chilled fingers to his mouth, blowing in an attempt to keep them warm.

"Cold again?"

Collin glanced at his companion, an older man known as Davis. The man had been working for the castle for nearly two decades, having worked closely with Gisborne the last several years. Often he proclaimed that he was a favorite among the man, and boasted about his positioning. Whether it was true or not left speculation to Collin, but he wasn't willing to divulge in a pointless fight. The man was a coward, bending to every wish and order that left Gisborne's lips. It was the very reason he was out here tonight.

For Collin, it was different. Gisborne had seemed to enjoy having him take the night shift, and follow up with a heavy round of morning chores. Rest would not come to him till the mid-afternoon, and he would sleep until shortly before his night duty, taking some supper before the entire process started over once again. As difficult as it was, Collin considered it an alternative to what could have been.

Gisborne's faith in him had strengthened after the consignment had arrived safely. Collin had not learned the chest sent out that morning was a decoy until shortly before nightfall, but he did learn that Robin had not gone after it. Therefore Gisborne had no reason to suspect he was dealing with Robin, and it had been a mere coincidence that he had known where the store had been.

There was still guilt, but Collin wouldn't delve too deeply into it. Robin was a difficult man to figure out, holding an approach between carefree and slightly deadly. The man was an idol, Collin rationalized, knowing that he had spent his younger years living off on the generosity of the Lord of Locksley, and his eagerness was fueled even more when Robin had ventured off to war.

Knowing Robin on a semi-personal level was different than he thought it would be. The man was still very much a child in many ways, jovial and outgoing, but bearing the weight of a troubled individual underneath the surface. And who could blame him? There were many reasons for Robin's changing moods, and it was unnerving in Collin's mind to not know whether the man presented a threat to him or not.

"I hate these long shifts," Davis grumbled quietly next to him. "Freeze out here, everyone else sleeps sound, full stomachs. Sickening…"

Collin resisted the urge to roll his eyes. It seemed as though the only way Davis was happy was to be spiteful towards what he didn't have. That was the way he was, the way he had always been, and most likely it was how he always would be.

"At least you are only doing one night," Collin responded quietly.

Davis scoffed, putting out a laugh. "That's right; you're the one causing the trouble with Gisborne. Not happy with you, he is. You're lucky to still have your head attached to the rest of your body."

The threat was light; Davis always embellished, especially when it concerned Gisborne. "It was a misunderstanding, we got it sorted."

"Ready to hang you by your neck, associating with outlaws, Robin Hood none the least. Where do you get off, sorting with folk like that? It been me, you would have been tortured then hanged."

"Pleasant," Collin returned, fighting off a coming yawn. "Good thing I'm not."

"Not what?"

Collin barely blinked, turning to the other man. "Associating with outlaws. You started the conversation; perhaps you should pay attention to it."

"Right," he answered with a huff, "Whatever it is you say, Gisborne knows, and he's right, he is."

"What does Gisborne know?"

Davis laughed, watching him now, his lips drawn tightly over his teeth. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Obviously, reason why I asked."

"Going to know, then tell them outlaws? Spread your knowledge and little wisdom of what you have to a known traitor? Hope that he'll take you in his gang?" Davis laughed vociferously, stabbing the end of his bow into the ground as he was thoroughly amused by his poorly scripted joke.

Yet as suddenly as he had started there came a strange calm over him, the man taking a deep breath. "Not from me, you won't. Nothing you'll hear cross these lips, I won't supply them filthy mongrels my superior knowledge."

Collin only nodded, giving him the benefit of the doubt. Davis would often sprout of conspiracies being planned by the villagers, and would talk to anyone who listened, his mind long done in by the constant drinking of his younger days. Though he had sobered up years ago, it seemed the intoxication still resided with him, earning him the slight of 'Crazy Davie' by the other guards.

The sound first came from their left, near the barn and it was nearly indistinguishable, leaving the source of the commotion to be unknown. Collin was watching carefully, ears straining should the sound be made again, but turned quickly as he was prodded by Davis.

"Go on then, find about it. What are you being paid for?"

Collin scoffed quietly, shaking his head. He wasn't being paid, courtesy of Gisborne. The man felt the need to suspend his pay until he saw fit. It wasn't a harsh blow, Collin was able to keep up well enough with what money he had, and his grandmother still worked unhindered in the castle back in Nottingham. She was his main concern, and as long as the woman was well then so was he.

The truth of the matter still remained. One of them had to check the disturbance, and though the short walk would probably warm him some, Collin did not want to go. More in likely it was just some critter, trying to find some scraps for its aching and empty belly. Shifting the bow between his hands Collin let out a sigh, hiding a slight smile.

"Could I wonder…if it was an outlaw…what sort of bonus Gisborne would give me if I were to catch him? I mean, protecting the silver, bringing a wanted man to justice. That's good enough for a promotion…wouldn't you agree?" Collin wondered, moving towards the barn.

Davis watched him for a moment, fully perplexed, but then the confusion melted away to justification as he pressed ahead of him. "Right, you stay here. This job is for a real man, I'll take care of it."

Collin smiled inwardly as he fell back into place, watching as Davis sauntered off through the dark. Sometimes it was just too easy. He had always been fairly quick with his tongue when giving the time to think. At times it had proven useful, but being for the most part an honest man, keeping up with such trickeries was a daunting task.

He shifted his stance once more, letting out a breath as he listened to the quiet night. There were no sounds from Davis, and Collin wondered how long it would be before his nervous cries filled the air. The man was a coward, and easily intimidated by the smallest of things despite his boastful talk. But seconds stretched into minutes, and there was still no sign of the man.

Collin could feel his own stomach tighten, the breath catching in his chest as he started to move forward, now concerned for Davis despite his growing dislike for the man. But he came to a stop, having taken no more than few steps as the man reappeared, Collin drawing in a much needed breath.

"You were gone for a time; what was it?"

"Nothing too threatening I can reassure you."

At the sound of his voice Collin turned quickly, backing up a step. "Robin!"

The man held up a hand, silencing him quickly as he took up the position Davis held only minutes ago. "Do you really want to draw everyone's attention out here?"

"It would be your own fault," Collin returned, dropping his voice into a whisper. "You would deserve it, too."

"Don't make me hurt you," the other man warned with a quiet laugh.

"Where is Davis? What have you done with him?"

"Don't worry, sleeping like a baby I assure you. So tell me, you fancy the night shift?"

"Not particularly," Collin scoffed, "And I wasn't worried; concerned, because now I'm going to have to explain to Gisborne what happened to his lackey."

Robin laughed, "I have a suggestion for you, if you are willing to listen."

"Does it involve another dagger at my throat?" Collin mocked him quietly.

"Of course not," Robin grinned, turning towards him, "but you tell me you didn't have a choice then…"

"I didn't," Collin corrected him.

"…then I'm giving you a choice now," Robin continued, as though he had never even heard him. "Prove your loyalty to me."

"I don't have to prove my loyalty to anyone."

Robin only shrugged, heading back out into the night. "Very well then."

Collin let out a sigh, biting his lip. Sometimes the man could be so infuriating. "Robin, wait!"

The man stopped, turning with a questioning look on his face. "Yes?"

"What do you want?"

Robin made his way back, stopping so that he was just in front of him. Collin held his breath, now worried that he wasn't going to like the answer.

"There are two chests of silver in there."

"I will not get them for you," Collin said briefly, explaining himself, "It is heavily guarded."

"I know," Robin nodded, "My men and I need to get inside, but we can't with this many guards around."

"What?" Collin laughed, "You want me to get rid of them?"

"I need you to tell Gisborne that I was here tonight. Tell him whatever you would like, that you chased me off, scared me away, whatever it is he wants to hear. Then you tell him that I know about the silver, and my men and I are planning to raid the house within the next night."

"But that's not true," Collin responded quietly, watching him. Why would Robin warn his enemy of a potential attack just moments after the man confessed that he wasn't going to?

"Just trust me, alright? Tell Gisborne you couldn't go after me because you had to stay with the guard. Now, give me five minutes, then go to the barn. You'll find your guard there."

"And what if I decide not to tell Gisborne?"

"Then my men and I will find another way in," Robin replied simply. "The choice is yours my friend, but what will you tell Gisborne about his 'lackey'?"

The last part had been said in jest, but Collin was given little time to think about it as Robin disappeared into the shadows. He glanced about his surroundings, wondering if anyone had just overheard their strange conversation. But the house was quiet, and as the minutes passed by, Collin knew he had to make a choice.

TBC