Another day another chapter! Thanks to all those who have stuck with me thus far, I appreciate all the comments and support :)

Thanks goes out to Kegel, who betaed the chapter for me.

Chapter Twelve: A Plan of Their Own

There were good times, and then there were bad times. This was not a good time. In fact, this wasn't even a bad time. No, it was far worse than that. A bad time might have seemed good right about now. Truth be it, he had hoped it would be a bad time…

Whether the bluff was real or not, Gisborne could not tell. But he knew what he had to do, and had done exactly what had been expected of him. Knowing what he knew, and reporting it…two different things entirely. Vaysey was a…difficult man, to say the least. He held in his opinion nothing about faith, or loyalty, but power instead. Weakness was not a trait he delved in, nor did he wish to see it in the presence of those who worked for him.

Gisborne knew his greatest weakness has been his heart for Marian, the very woman Vaysey despised most of all. Since her departure though Gisborne had felt Vaysey take a new turn, a sort of new liking for his acclaimed loyal servant as he was. The power and authority the Sheriff had granted him in mock replacement of his runaway bride had patched up a gaping hole inside of him, but the emotional wound was slowly opening once more with each passing day.

Power and control only went so far, and every cold night he spent alone in bed only served as a reminder of the painful humiliation he had endured. She was gone from his life now, and even through weeks of searching, and even pressing Robin, her old flame prior to his departure to the Holy Lands, had failed to create any find. It was all that he was left with now, the Lands of Locksley, the power he held in accordance with the Sheriff…if he lost it due to this…then he would be completely empty.

So he stood there, a quiet façade of appearance, willing himself to remain still as the man watched him. There were many moods of the Sheriff; he could be volatile, outlandish and even uncouth. Then there were the times like now…when he was as silent as a dead man, so quiet that not even his breaths could be heard. One would have to presume him as being dead if it were not for the subtle moves of his fingers, the indiscernible blink of the eyes. These were the times Gisborne hated the most, hated because one had no clear perception of what the man was about to do.

"How…did Hood, find out?"

Gisborne let out a sigh, turning away as he bit his bottom lip. That was what bothered him the most. He had no answer as to why. "Perhaps he found out the last shipment was a decoy."

"A clue?" Vaysey scoffed, "No. Hood did not go after the decoy, so he knew it was a trap. Where was he when this was happening? In Locksley, no doubt. But HOW, did he find out?"

Gisborne shook his head.

"Who did you tell?"

"No one knew save for me and my guard, Davis. The man was with me, he could not have told anyone."

"Well, we won't know for sure…unless we tie up loose ends."

"Davis is my man," Gisborne spoke up quickly. He knew how the Sheriff felt about securing their workers, about keeping the reigns tight, but the guard, as dim-witted as he was, had been a valuable assist. There were very few men willing to partake in many of the unfavorable deeds without question. Davis was one of those few men.

"Was Gisborne, was. Men who are with Hood, are not men who are with us."

"He didn't tell Hood," Gisborne responded, trying to convince him. "I can attest to that."

"What about that other one then? Hmm?" Vaysey questioned, leaning back in his chair. "Collin was his name, I think it was?"

"He did not know about the silver until after it arrived. There was no possible way he could have warned Hood about the trap. The trick was old, My Lord; surely Hood saw through it."

"The trap, yes," Vaysey nodded in agreement, "But he knows about the silver. Prince John is expecting it to arrive safely. That is why I had it sent to Locksley. A price like that would not go unnoticed through Nottingham."

Gisborne nodded quietly, saying nothing. Sometimes it was wiser to stay silent, a trade he had learned years ago. The man had a fury that could unleash when you least expected it, and more than once had he paid the price for the Sheriff's vehemence. The cost at which power came was at times a deadly one.

"So tell me, what are you going to do?"

Gisborne let out a sigh, facing him. "Hood cannot get the silver inside of Locksley; the house is too well guarded. He may be counting on the fact that I will move the chests, and strike then. If we stake more guards on full shifts, the shipment will be guarded until Prince John's men show. Hood will not dare attack a Royal Embassy."

"Good plan," Vaysey grinned, but the smile faded quickly. "A clue? No! Here is what you will do. You will find out how Hood learned of the silver, and then kill whomever you must to rid of these…dirty ties. Make it painful…and public. Make everyone know that those who associate with outlaws will be punished as one."

"You know what he threatened," Gisborne pointed out, "That he would kill if we harmed innocents."

"Robin Hood…does not have the strength to kill. He's soft…are you growing soft too, Gizzie?"

For once Gisborne couldn't blame the Sheriff. The man had never seen the outlaw fight in war before, and had no real perception of what Robin would and would not do. More than once had Gisborne felt the bite of a blade of a cold sword against his throat from the crusader, and more than once would it have struck true if it had not been for the men that followed him. Robin could kill…would kill, if it meant protecting innocents, and that was a price Gisborne wasn't willing to pay.

The Sheriff enjoyed dipping into unpleasantries such as torture, and public executions. The things that made Gisborne's stomach twist and turn even if it was slight. He would never admit it openly, for fear of following the same path as the ill-fated before him. Toughen up…move on…get over it; words that had always been spoken through all his years of growing. They were finally starting to sink in, and he was becoming everything everyone else wanted him to be. Save for Marian.

He cast the thought aside, for fear of breaking down. He would not allow himself to think such things. The woman was as dead to him as his own father, a man he both loved and hated to the point it made him ill to even think of the former Gisborne. Now he was close to where he had always wanted to be, the power so strong he could almost taste it, and he would not back down now.

"Hood wants the silver, we will give him the silver."

The comment caused him to frown, Gisborne being pulled out of his thoughts. "My Lord?"

"Details Gisborne, details," Vaysey answered with a smile, fingers tapping lightly against one another as his grin widened. "Only details…"

After much indecision Robin had taken a perch in a tall tree that overlooked Locksley. He needed the vantage point that allowed him a complete view without any rough interference, and though he was no artist when it came to climbing he had managed well enough.

Down below him, somewhere in the forest, Djaq and Much waited for him. In the dark of the night it had been difficult to see, but Robin's eyes never left the lay of the land before him. There had been a muffled commotion; the words gone unheard simply due to the distance but Robin could reckon that Collin had sprung the trap.

Relieved he bit his lip, easing into a more secure position among the branches. There was slight optimism building in him; he wanted to trust Collin. Wanted it more than anything, for the sole reason of wanting to trust, and wanting to have faith. In the darkest of nights, the words spoken between them as the man had granted him his freedom, surely it could not all be destroyed simply by one action.

Betrayal was painful, however, and Robin knew it was folly to raise one's hopes with the absence of proof. If Collin had indeed set the trap, there would be no way of determining if it was done to help him, or if Collin was simply trying to save his own skin once more. Whatever the case, it mattered little, Robin needed only for Gisborne to be so foolish to fall into the planted snare.

For some time he sat there, watching, waiting, until a smile crossed his lips at the sight he now saw. The night was chased away by the numerous torches, Gisborne's men assisting him as he mounted on a russet steed. The man was quite kempt, though his tidy appearance fell short at his hastened yells, and imperative orders. More men mounted steeds behind him, and within a moment, as a cluster, they spurred off into the darkness.

Gleefully Robin ran his tongue along his lips, laughing quietly as he looped the rope around the branch, securing it before lowering himself down. Once on solid ground, a well aimed arrow pierced the knot high above, freeing the rope from its confines. Out in the forest they could not afford to waste what precious materials they had. Though the arrow severed and frayed the one end, Robin knew the threads could be cut off, and rebound with a mixture of heat and liquid to strengthen it once more.

He was winding it about his arm and shoulder when the others met up with him, both answering the unasked question, confirming that they were alone. Robin nodded, motioning towards the forest as he finished, trailing behind them.

"We should move now, Gisborne is gone and so is half his lot."

"Still too many," Djaq argued with Much, turning towards Robin. "What will we do?"

Robin met her gaze, his emotions held at bay. He had not told them of his earlier plans, only asked that they trusted him. Such was the case in many instances. If things went ill then he did not wish for his men to be caught up in the disaster he had created. Instead he said nothing, taking the lead now as they worked their way further into the woods.

"I still do not understand," Much added, "Gisborne is gone, yet we walk away. When are we going to strike?"

"Gisborne is no fool," Robin explained, "the guards will be alert more than ever now. We must wait."

"For what? I mean, Gisborne isn't going to just hand over the silver, tell us to spend it wisely, now is he?"

"He will go to greater lengths to protect it," Djaq interjected.

"It will not leave Locksley," Robin continued after a brief moment. "If I know Gisborne and the Sheriff as well as I think I do, they will try and bait us."

"What good will a trap do us?"

"We only need for their attention to be drawn. We move when they are distracted, when their focus is on another. When the moment is right."

"When is that?" Much came to a stop, turning round to face him. "How can we know if we are not there?"

"We will know," Robin smiled at him. "Trust me. Gisborne will make sure we know, just as he wanted us to know about the decoy. Right now we head back to camp; we collect provisions, and meet back here. I have a feeling that tomorrow will be an interesting day."

By now, he had fallen easily into the role. It was surprising, because truthfully he had felt it would have taken more time. He was not much of an instigator, instead a quiet and unspoken individual, though his tongue could say his fair share of words when he so chose to do. So moving here, trekking now with such ease, all in all both astounded and enlightened him.

They had slept well the night before, quiet spurts of conversation floating between the three of them. Will had settled differences with Allan, and the man had backed off on his criticism. John had also encouraged his dealings, claiming that something had to be done.

It was a scary, yet comforting feeling. Will had no real notion of what emotions Robin experienced, but he had gotten a brief insight the night before. The dedication, the determination…of knowing there were people behind you that would support you, encourage you. It was almost overwhelming.

Yet along with that feeling came another one; a twinge of guilt. He and the others had abandoned Robin, due to whatever cause, and Will could only fathom to what that felt like. Still the man had watched out for them, had even probably saved their lives. It was an interesting concept in his mind, for Will wasn't quite sure what to make out of it. If Allan, or John, abandoned him…

But it wasn't the same, not even close to it. The three of them had followed Robin loyally for over a year now. Here it had been only a week's time, if that, the days and nights having been lost in the span of time as a whole. They did not carry the same bond as before, not at the current moment.

His gaze changed, flicking up to catch John's as the man moved in near him, staff in his hands. Allan was ahead of them now, keeping low among the brush and foliage as he found a secure place up ahead. Pausing, the man scouted the area, waving them when he was sure all was clear. Will pushed John ahead, hanging back for a moment before following as well.

They were close to Locksley now, the houses rising up before them as the sun peered down on their forms. Will moved to his feet, keeping on his haunches as he peered over the tall weeds. The village was in a bustle, going about daily life, skirting away from the largest of houses that was still enclosed with guards that were milling about.

He did a mental count, his eyes searching both the perimeter as well as the exposed sections of the house. With a sigh he bit his lip, drawing back to a sitting position. "At least a dozen. There are more than I thought."

"That might present a problem," Allan remarked softly.

"Might." Will rolled his eyes, turning to John, hoping to find an answer there.

"Find a way in," the older man suggested. "We draw them out."

"Even if he does get a way in, he can't carry it all out himself."

Will nodded, knowing that Allan was right. It would take several trips in the least, not to mention the potential, no…the obvious fighting that would happen. He could feel his stomach tighten as he glanced back over the weeds. He was beginning to feel that this was a very bad idea.

They didn't have the man power for this, even if they happened to still be with Robin…this was no small feat, and trying to penetrate such a force would be suicidal at best. They would have to wait, have to think, and return once they had it all sorted out.

"Back to the forest," he told him quietly, moving to leave. He was stopped, however, as John placed a hand on his shoulder, pointing with his staff.

He followed the man's gaze, moving back to his feet, keeping low as he had done so before. There was a commotion, a stampeding of horses as they came racing through the village, peasants scrambling out of the way as the men riding them hardly slowed. Gisborne was at the lead, reigning in his horse to an abrupt halt in front of the abode, the creature stumbling under the swift change in direction.

He wasted little time in dismounting, voicing orders for several of the guards to follow him, storming into the house. There were no misgivings in assuming the man was angry. Will cared little for the man who always seemed a touch on the malicious side, but even now his general demeanor seemed to be calmed compared to his current state.

"What's gotten him so worked up, I wonder," Allan chuckled quietly. "We can take bets on this."

Will frowned, glancing at him for a mere moment before turning his attention back front. The question was a valid one, and honestly it worried him. Though they ran in different circles Will had come to learn what was bad for your enemy could be even worse for you if you were not careful. Sometimes it could be good, he knew that as well, but inane hopes were impractical when you needed a clear mind about you.

And so they stayed, waiting quietly, Will watching, hoping for the best, but keeping an open path to the forest should they have to retreat rather suddenly. John waited quietly next to him, while Allan whispered quiet jeers until Will finally had to shush him. Then there was more movement, after what seemed like an eternity of waiting.

Gisborne was in the lead again, sauntering out quickly and coming to a stop as he turned back with a slight scowl on his face. Several coarse expressions crossed his lips, cursing out in the air as the men behind him fumbled with a large wooded chest, shuffling the load between the four of them.

"That has to be it there," Will spoke quietly, watching them move. "Why are they moving it?"

John nudged him from behind, pointing over his shoulder and Will turned just in time to see another group of men hauling a second chest out. Allan let out a low whistle next to him, rubbing his hands gleefully.

"That's what I'm talking about," the man laughed quietly.

It was a lot; more than a lot, almost too much. If it took four men to haul a single chest, there was no way they would get one or even both. Not even with John's sheer strength, the bulkiness of it alone would present a rather outstanding problem.

Yet he was intrigued now, watching as Gisborne made his way through the village, the peasants keeping well clear of him, even more so than they had with the horses, wanting nothing to do with the proceedings currently taking place. Will met John's and Allan's gaze, nodding towards them as he took the lead, skirting around the perimeter of the village, keeping the two boxes in sight.

John had gone the opposite way, keeping parallel on the other side while Allan followed closely on his heels. Will moved between the houses, continuing low along the fences, taking care to not be seen. Slowly, the route changed, Gisborne coming to a stop in front of the old mill. Will rounded the last fence, crouching behind the decaying wood as he watched.

The man that had previously followed Gisborne had taken the lead, using an axe to knock aside the planks that covered the door. The old mill had been around for years, having scheduled to be demolished years before Robin even returned. Times had changed quickly then, and the mill itself had been forgotten. Slowly the debris was cleared away, the door kicked open, and the men carrying the chests worked their way inside.

It didn't make sense as to why; surely the silver was much safer in the house, for the old mill was wearing down, and far from Gisborne's current residence. Sherwood nearly met the back of it, and last time Will had seen that the forest had even began to overgrow into the mill, a tree having even braced against it during one of the winter storms years ago.

Then again…the trap that Gisborne had set had not worked; maybe now the man feared they would try and steal the silver, and was hiding it out in the open. Will smiled as he watched the door close, the same man who opened it working to board it up once more. Of course, it made sense. If Robin did try and come around he would surely head for his own house, not the forgotten mill in the back of the village that was drenched in moss and covered in limbs.

But now that they knew where it was, a plan was formulating in his mind, growing stronger, and Will chuckled to himself, his confidence returning. Maybe there was a way to get the silver after all.

TBC