Chapter 8
Marian spurred her horse on the way to Knighton. She hadn't been able to tolerate Nottingham Castle for very long once the king and his men had left. The Council of Nobles was over for now, and several of the nobles had returned to their lands, while the new sheriff, Sir Hubert, went on establishing himself and men loyal to him in Nottingham.
She arrived in Knighton just before noon and dismounted to lead her horse around the place where her home had been. The ruins hadn't been touched by the people of Knighton, but Marian knew there was nothing that could be done with it anymore. They would have to get rid of it all and start anew if they were to rebuild the hall.
It was a good thing that it was still early in April, the winter just over, so they would be able to start soon. If things went well, much of the work might be done before the next winter came, and she might be able to return to living in Knighton.
For now, she was to go to Locksley. It was with mixed feelings that she directed her horse towards the other village. Years ago, she had expected to be living there soon. First when she had been betrothed to Robin, then later to Gisborne. Both men were gone now. Of course, she still expected Robin to one day return to the village, to settle back in what was his home. Until then, she would take care of it, and she hoped she would do him and the villagers right.
When Marian rode into Locksley, gazes turned her way and she smiled back, hurrying on to the manor though. Her horse was taken care of, and it wasn't a surprise to her to see the big man lurking in the shadows when she walked towards the house.
She stepped towards John and could then see the smaller person, too. So John and Djaq had come, but she could only wonder where the rest of Robin's men were. Much hadn't gone with Robin, he had told her so, before he left.
Suddenly she wondered, if they even knew. She didn't think Robin had had a chance to speak to them, so they might not even have heard yet that he had left with the king.
"Marian," John nodded towards her in greeting.
"John, Djaq," she smiled. "Where are the others?"
John glanced at Djaq. "We do not know."
"What happened?"
"Will," Djaq started. "He was caught," she said simply, but Marian could see that she wasn't as calm inside as her words were. "We think they were king's men. On the day after the king took Nottingham, we saw them in the forest. They caught sight of Will and..."
Marian nodded. She hadn't known about it, but if it had really been the king's men... maybe Robin would be able to help him.
"We did not get into in Nottingham," Djaq went on. "But we heard they hanged prisoners there." John glanced at her again.
Marian frowned. "Yes, but they were men that were taken during the attack on the castle, sheriff's men. There were no hangings later on." She knew this well, as she had feared for Robin in light of the wrath of the king. "Robin is with the king," she said quickly, thinking that it might give the other two hope.
"He is?" Djaq asked. "The king left, did he not? What about Much?"
Marian nodded again. "Robin left with the king, but Much didn't, as far as I know." She could see the deep frown on John's face as she told them this. "He did not go voluntarily," she took care to explain, willing them to understand that Robin had not simply left them behind.
"What do you mean?" John wanted to know.
Marian wasn't sure how to explain it, but with whom else would she better be able to talk about it than with Robin's men?
"Robin and Much went to talk to the king in Nottingham."
John nodded. "We know."
"The king," Marian went on, "he wasn't happy with everything that had happened. He took them captive, accusing Robin of the crimes he's done."
John looked at her gravely, nodding.
"He made him go with him?" Djaq clarified. "Where is he going?"
"What happened to Much?" John asked.
"I do not know about Much. Robin told him to leave, to find you," she explained. "The king is going to France to deal with his brother and Philipp there," she added quietly, sighing.
"Is that why you are here?" John indicated Locksley manor.
She smiled sadly. "In a way." She looked at the house. "I'll be here till Robin comes back." She hadn't voiced it like that to anyone so far, but it was what she felt: Robin would return with a pardon from the king, would come back to his home. She was sure of that. She just didn't know how long it would take, could only pray it wouldn't be another five years. "I'll see what I can find out about Will. And about Much. But I think he took all the prisoners with him."
John nodded his thanks.
"What are you going to do now?"
He shrugged. She knew he had been living in the forest for many years, and things had not exactly changed for him with the return of the king.
"Lady Marian," someone said from behind, and she could see that John and Djaq moved to vanish out of sight. She turned around, seeing that their leaving wouldn't have been necessary, for it was Thornton, Robin's old servant, who knew all too well what was going on. "I am glad to see you here," he said, giving her a nod.
"Thank you." Marian said, glancing to the side where she knew the two outlaws had vanished.
Robin looked out into Sherwood Forest. He didn't know this part of it very well, it being north of the parts where the gang had usually traveled. He was standing guard by the small camp of the king, only put up for the short time they would be here, at Clipstone, while Richard was meeting the King of the Scots . A large number of the king's men had already moved on, taking with them the prisoners from Nottingham and the surrounding area after Richard had decided that he would deal with them later in the month after his meeting with the other king.
Spring had fully come to Sherwood Forest by now, and while it was nice to still be in the place for a little while it made Robin wonder even more so how long it would take till he would see it again.
So far the whole venture had been peaceful. There had been no reason for any fighting and as far as Robin had heard, nobody really expected it while they were still in England, John and his followers having fled the country. What would happen once they were in France though, was a different matter. Robin hated the idea of war. He had lived it too long in the Holy Land. The king knew of his skill with the bow and would expect him to show it in battle again, would expect him to kill men that found themselves on the wrong side.
He thought of the gang, wondering if they were still here in Sherwood. They probably were, most of them having no other place to go. Will had maybe, having family away from Nottingham where he could live, but then he wouldn't leave the others behind either. Marian was probably in Locksley by now.
He was pulled out of his thoughts by a sound coming from the forest that wasn't the same low-key background sound that had been there the whole time and that he knew so well from having lived in the forest for years. It was a sound that didn't result from leaves falling or squirrels running around.
Robin pulled an arrow from his quiver, notching it in his bow, his gaze focused on the patch of forest where the sound had come from.
After a few moments, he heard what were definitely sounds of steps on the forest ground. He kept the arrow trained into the direction. He much preferred keeping whoever was coming at a distance with his bow instead of using his sword.
He could see movement in the green then.
"Stop," he called out. He had orders to keep intruders out. The men were well aware of outlaws in the forest. And there were not only those. Who knew if Prince John or somebody else who was interested in harming the king's guards had sent out men.
"Stop," he called again as the steps didn't come to a halt.
"Robin," he heard a voice then and for a moment he thought it was one of the other guards, before he recognized it as well as the man who was approaching him out of the thicket. "It's me."
Robin lowered his bow, his frown being replaced by a smile, though he also wondered what his friend was doing here. "Much."
The man nodded. "I've come."
"What are you doing here?"
"I'm going to come with you, of course."
"Much, no," Robin shook his head. "Did you talk to the others?"
"I haven't seen them," Much replied. "I left the castle, which wasn't easy by the way, and wanted to go to camp. When I was in Clun, there were sheriff's men, too, of the new sheriff, mind you, and I didn't feel like talking to them. But one of the villagers, Fred – we helped him once, if you remember - took me into his house, so I could hide there until they were gone."
"So you didn't go to camp?" Robin interrupted him. He glanced around briefly, wondering if any of the other guards had noticed what was going on. He didn't want Much to get into trouble. They were lucky enough that it was him Much had run into and none of the other men.
"Well, I did go to camp later, but they weren't there, the others. I didn't see any of them. Who knows what they are up to, really."
"You shouldn't have come here, Much."
The other frowned. "I was worried that the king's guards would see me. I mean, one moment I'm running away from them, the next I'm following them. But I couldn't leave you alone."
Robin sighed. "You can't stay here. You need to go back. Find the others."
"What about you?"
"I'll come back, when I can. But now the king needs me."
Much was still frowning. "Locksley needs you more than that. I need you," he added insistently. "And you didn't come here because you wanted to, did you?"
"I made a choice, Much," Robin told him firmly.
"Then I can choose to come with you, too."
Robin shook his head. "Go back to the others. They need your help. Help Marian take care of Locksley."
"Marian?"
He grimaced. It was still an odd thought, though he knew he should be happy about it. "She'll be taking care of Locksley."
"You do not want me here?"
Robin looked at his feet. "There's nothing I would like more than to have you with me, but you are a free man. You live your own life now." Quietly he added, "You shouldn't pay any longer for my mistakes." Much had followed him into war, followed him into the forest. It had to stop now.
"Robin." He came yet closer to him and Robin laid an arm on his shoulder. "You said you would do it again," Much reminded him then.
Robin chuckled, knowing the truth of it. There were mistakes he hoped he would not repeat – like leaving for war the way he had all those years ago. But there were other things he would do again, where his decision would not be different. "I would. And you should go your own way. Outside of Nottinghamshire you would be free." No one would know Much there, would know he was an outlaw in Nottingham. People had heard of Robin Hood, but they wouldn't connect Much's name with any of it. As much as he felt Much also deserved to be known for the good he had done, it would also a blessing for him not to be remembered for it.
Much nodded finally.
"We will meet again," Robin assured him.
Allan was tired. Not only tired because of the lack of sleep, but also of walking. They'd been made to march south for days now. Allan missed the days of getting to nap in hidden corners of the castle, of relaxing at the outlaws' camp even, then when they hadn't been busy with any matters of life and death that was.
Now it was just endless days of walking and not knowing where they were even headed. As far as he could tell, not the whole of the king's army had come with them, not even the king himself had, if rumours among the other men could be believed. It would explain why his connection to Robin hadn't helped him out yet, for if the king wasn't here, his favourite Robin sure wasn't either. Not that Robin himself would waste any moment's thought in helping him, Allan figured. But it might draw notice to the fact who he was, and that he too had worked with Robin, for the king, against the sheriff. Decidedly against the sheriff. Allan would remind them of all those times they'd robbed the man. If that wasn't working against the sheriff, he didn't know what was.
He had seen Will from time to time, was seeing him pretty often actually, but had sometimes avoided the man's gaze. Other times he had met it and had wondered what he could tell him. They hadn't parted on the best of terms the last time they had talked, though that was also when Allan had saved Will's neck by looking the other way. Will would have to give him that; he'd never done anything to hurt anyone of them.
Of course, all of that was far away now anyway. Outlaws, sheriff, and all the like. Now they were just all prisoners of the king, and Allan wished he knew what was going to happen. He figured that they'd all be dead by now if that was what the monarch desired, but he didn't have a clue yet what the purpose of their travel was. He didn't think they could have any worth to the king.
"So you're Robin's man now?" someone addressed him from the side all of a sudden and Allan turned to him, winning smile half-set and often-told story ready, when he realised that it was Will.
His smile vanished. "We both are, more or less, aren't we? Saved both our necks one time. We both went off with him into the forest, didn't we?"
Will kept his gaze fixed on him. "You're Gisborne's man."
Allan glanced around nervously. "I'm not. Don't speak so loudly." It certainly couldn't be wise to get to be known as one of the Master-At-Arms' men, the one who had been working for the sheriff.
"What do you think you're gaining by that story of yours?" Will wondered. "Robin isn't here to help us, and telling everyone you're an outlaw..." he paused. "Or better an outlaw than a traitor of the king?"
Allan grimaced, wishing the other would be quiet. "Are you trying to get me killed?" he hissed.
Will looked at him for a few more moments, before he turned away, hastening his pace to catch up with a group of men who were walking slightly ahead of them. Allan shook his head. A little while later he saw Will glancing back at him, but the man turned away again once he met Allan's gaze.
At the end of the day, it was maybe good to have the other around, too. Will was the one who could oppose Allan's story, could tell everyone what his position had really been, but then Allan believed to know that Will would never do that on purpose. It wasn't in his nature. Sure, he had tried to kill the sheriff in rage after his father had been murdered; sure, he was angry at Allan for giving information to Gisborne, as harmless as that had been, and as justified when facing torture. But Allan knew Will and knew that he wouldn't do anything that actively harmed him. Maybe he would even help him, no matter that he wanted to hate Allan right now.
Will settled down along with some other men, who tried to make themselves as comfortable as possible. All they could do now was to wait. After not having moved on for several days, still living in a camp near what they had learned to be Winchester in the South of England, things finally seemed to pick up again.
Will wasn't really been worried. After taking them along for so many days, it being near the end of April now, he doubted the king's men wanted them dead, and that was much better than he could ever have hoped for to fare if caught by the sheriff's men. Come to think of it, the last time that had happened, he had nearly ended up on the gallows again.
A few of the men had been picked out, and rumours were going around that those were the ones who had property or whose family owned enough for it to be worthwhile for the king to demand a ransom that would enlarge the war chest for his next campaign. Will was indifferent to the matter, fearing more taxes for the people were ahead in any way.
When the king's guards had asked him who he was, he had told them that he was a carpenter from Locksley. He hadn't said anything about Robin, unlike Allan, who had apparently told them that he was one of Robin Hood's men. Will hadn't tried to contradict that claim. In a way, it was true enough, certainly true enough for Allan's standards, and if it helped him, Will wouldn't try to oppose that. He didn't wish harm on Allan, after all.
Will hadn't talked to his former friend in the past few days. He had seen him often, but Allan had not made an attempt at conversing with him, and Will hadn't felt like initiating it either. Allan was still near him though, had naturally not been chosen as one of those who were supposedly of more value to the king.
Will leaned forward to pick up a piece of wood that was lying in his reach. He turned it around in his hands, figuring it would make a good piece for carving. He didn't have any tools to do so though. Everything that could be used as a tool – or a weapon – had long since been taken from him, including his small axe.
"What are you going to do, when they let us go?" the tall boy who was sitting next to him asked.
Will knew that his name was Daniel and that he had been working in the stables of Nottingham Castle, when the king's army had entered the town and the boy had been caught in a failed, panicked attempt to flee the town. He had not dared to leave the town until it had been too late . He had told Will all of that, along with many other things, over the course of the last few days, talking so much that Will had been reminded of Much a few times. Will had particularly listened up when Daniel had mentioned that Gisborne's horse had still been in the stables about the time when he had tried to leave. Of course, this didn't actually answer the question as to what had become of the man, but it added another thought to the ones Will had already pondered. He for one would be glad if not only the sheriff but Gisborne was gone, too. The people of Locksley didn't need him, they had lived badly under him for a long time.
"I don't know," was his honest answer to Daniel's question. Going back to Nottinghamshire was the most natural idea of course. Will wasn't the only outlaw among the men here, though he doubted that any of them had told as much to the king's guards, as they had to their fellow men. But some of the others had talked about starting a new life somewhere else, somewhere where they were not known as outlawed men.
But then it wasn't easy to go somewhere where you were not known. Will's father and brother had gone to live in Scarborough when Will had been outlawed, but they had already had family there, were not complete outsiders without any connection to the place. Will guessed that it wasn't easy to be one. He didn't think people would hire him as a carpenter, if they didn't know who he was, where he came from and what he was able to. The people in Locksley, on the other hand, knew him, trusted him.
Of course, he could go to Scarborough, too, find Luke, live with their aunt. But then he knew that all these musings were in vain. He wouldn't leave his friends in Sherwood behind.
"I know what I'll do, if they let us go," he corrected himself. "I'll go back to Nottingham. But I don't know what I'll do there."
Daniel nodded. Will figured the boy could just go back to working at the castle. He doubted the new sheriff would be opposed to having the servants continue their work. Daniel had just been in the unlucky position to be caught by the king's men in the first place.
"Tell me," Allan said all of a sudden in agreement of Will not knowing what to do. He had come to a stop next to him without Will's notice. "Don't really know what to do back in Nottingham, do I? There's really no place there for me," he shrugged in an outwardly offhand manner.
"You should have thought about that earlier," Will said with a somewhat hostile edge he couldn't suppress. At least he knew that even if there was no other place for him, there would always be one at the outlaws' camp.
"I can't take it back," Allan said, and Daniel looked at him confused. Will figured that Daniel had seen Allan around the castle, though he didn't know the backstory. He might even know how Allan had actually been employed at the castle.
Will nodded. "Yeah, I know." Shrugging, he turned to Daniel again. "When they will let us go and we go back to Nottingham, I hope you won't mind another addition?"