Greenveilbride; thanks bro, I agree

Dreamer in the shadows; thanks, I hope you enjoy this chapter too ;)

Chapter 14; Unfinished business, part 1

"Gisborne!" Robin roared as him and the gang charged through Sherwood. He was annoyed. Really annoyed. Because of one selfish act, Nottingham was going to go up in flames. Hundreds of people were going to be homeless, and that's if they survived the soldiers. And then where were the people going to go? They couldn't live in the the forest, hardly anyone would survive the winter. The other neighbouring villages also wouldn't look too kindly on refugees flocking the roads. Plus they didn't have enough food supplies or any sort of 'real' accommodation. Why didn't Gisborne stop to think about that for one moment? He was beginning to think like Much...

"Robin, wait!" Much shouted behind him. Reluctantly, Robin slowed to a stop. "Don't do anything stupid." Much panted. "I won't." He answered. "Promise me." Much said. "I promise Much." Robin replied, giving him a weary smile. "Come on, we're getting closer." Robin said to the rest of the gang. They had been tracking Gisborne for a number of days, searching far and wide for him and his men. And finally the hunt was almost over.

"Gisborne!" Robin yelled at the top of his lungs again. He dashed up a small incline and found himself looking down on a well-known blue-eyed enemy. There were also four other unfamiliar faces staring back at Robin. Without hesitation, everyone drew their weapons, sending a dozen metallic rings echoing throughout the woods.

"It was about time you showed up, Hood." Guy stated. Much popped up by Robin's side, followed by Allan, Tuck and Little John. "You killed the sheriff." Much growled furiously.

"Nope." Guy answered. "What?" Much gasped. "I killed the sheriff." Nazeem answered. "You..." Much growled, pointing a finger. "Prince John is going to burn this place to the ground!" Much screeched. "Unless you've made a copy of yourself who somehow managed to raise an army and is sitting in Nottingham right now!-"

"I haven't, but my good friend here does have someone with incredible likeness and an army of mercenaries and is probably sitting in Nottingham right now."

"Bet you didn't think of that, Hood." Guy smirked, leaving it to sink in for full effect. Robin didn't know what to say. Gisborne may have helped kill the sheriff, but now Nottingham was replaced with another tyrant, and a mad man at that. Robin spoke his thoughts allowed.

"There's just no please in you man. Now give us your gold and we can get through this smoothly." Penderyn demanded, knife ready in hand.

"I give all my gold to the poor." Robin answered bluntly, staring at him in the eye.

"Yeah well-" Pen was cut off by the sound of a dozen horses approaching. Guy spun around. The horses slowed to a halt, and then a familiar figure came into sight;

"Good day, little people." Announced a rich, and slightly irritating voice. Sir Jasper dismounted his fine horse, his purple cloak flying behind him like Autumn leaves in the wind. His clothes were regal; designed to both impress and intimate the target.

"You." Guy snarled, venom in his voice. "Missed me?" Sir Jasper smirked, then his grey eyes danced across to Robin, who merely stood their, a sombre look on his face. "Hood! How nice of you to join the party."

"I wish I could say the same for you." Robin replied, meaning what he said.

"Aw, don't be so sad. Just think of all the people you will be keeping warm tonight." Jasper mocked again.

"Then I take it you haven't been to Nottingham?" Guy said, a patronizing tone in his voice.

"Obviously not."

"Well then, let's just say, you'll need a bigger army than this rabble." Guy's comment earned a lot of dark stares and growls from the small group of soldiers, but Jasper merely laughed.

"Ah yes, you see, the pair of you have become a real pain in the princely backside. So, as well as burning Nottingham, I'd thought I'd burn Sherwood too."

"What? You can't, it's the king's forest!" Much exploded.

"Have you been living in a cave? It's only a matter of time before the king is dead." Sir Jasper yelled.

"The Black Knights are finished. He knows of Prince John's treachery, and when he returns-" Robin began.

"When the king returns," Sir Jasper scoffed, "when will the king return? You think he'll come back and then everything will right and just and we can all live happily ever after?"

Guy ignored the last remark and sniffed the air around him; a variety of wild flowers with a pinch of grass, all overpowered by the intoxicating fumes of burning wood, which would no doubt be getting closer.

"You've been playing us for time, haven't you?"

"I'm surprised you took so long to figure it out, Gisborne. Tell me, how does it feel to die the same way your wretched mother did?"

Without knowing, Gisborne leaped forward, sword in hand, his icy eyes smothered in rage and pure hatred. Nazeem flung himself at him. "Guy, calm down." The assassin yelled, wrestling him into a headlock.

"Gerroff me." Gisborne choked. 'How does he know?' He yelled at his brain. The fire was never a big secret, but it was obvious he had research that for him. Guy made a mental note to get revenge later.

"I hate to leave you all like this but I really must be going. Farewell, little people." Sir Jasper spurred his horse, sending it sprinting down the forest path, leaving Guy glaring at his disappearing figure.

"We need to get out of here." Nazeem ordered. Robin and his gang had already left the battlefield. "Can't... breathe..." Guy whezzed. "Oh right. Sorry." Nazeem apologized, releasing the headlock. He spared a glance behind him; the orange glow of fire mingled in with thick black smoke were slowly slithering towards them. He had wasted enough time here. They all had. It seemed as though everyone was thinking the same thought as they sprinted from the opposite direction of the smoke. None of them were totally sure where they were going to go. Away from the fire, that much was obvious but where to next? Keep running till they burst through the other end of Sherwood? It would take days, if not a week to cross that much land. And that was without stopping for rest, food and water. They would burn eventually against their immortal foe.

"We cannot continue like this." Gwyneth burst at last, red in the face and breathing heavily.

"Then where are we going to go?" Arthur said, also weary and breathed heavily. "Back to camp?" Pen suggested.

"We'll be smoked out like rats in the cave." Nazeem pointed out.

"Then to Nottingham." Little Arthur declared. "And suppose that's where the enemy wants us to go, boy?" Penderyn countered.

"Locksley." Guy reckoned. "It is safe enough, plus I have unfinished business there."

It was past working hours when the gang infiltrated Locksley, the setting sun casting long shadows dancing across the hard-beaten ground. There wasn't a soul in sight; everyone had withdrew to the warmth and safety of their homes, and it seemed Gareth had taken every soldier to Nottingham with him. They past the blackened ruins of Locksley manor- Guy felt a pang of sorrow for the home he worked so hard to gain, now just a bit of ash to mark his troubles. They were all exhausted and hungry, having dashing around Sherwood all day. They would kill for a nice warm bed for the night.

Guy raised his gaze to the sky; pinks, oranges, blues and reds splattered the heavens like paint on a canvas, all mixing a, together like one big masterpiece. However, snaking its way across the painting, black smoke continued to drift lazily in the sunset, forever staining the painting.

"Sherwood's still burning." Nazeem pointed out, following Guy's gaze. "It'll take ages to put the fire out, and even longer for the forest to grow back." Gwyneth added. "I'll make them pay for this. All of them." Little Arthur growled, his young face twisted into an expression of determination and revenge. Then Guy saw his features change as two peasants stepped out of their home and gazed at the strangers, then completely soften as he recognized who they were.

"Mum!" Arthur cried as dashed to meet his mother. She dashed over the threshold and met her son halfway. "Oh my Arthur. My little boy. Where have you been? They didn't hurt you, did they?" His mother fretted. "No, I was going to have my head lobbed off by the sheriff but I escaped with their help so I tagged along with them-"

"It's okay sweetie, you can come home now and everything will be as they used to." His mother cooed, dropping to his level so she could look him in the eye.

"But what about them? I can't leave them." Arthur asked.

"Arthur Emmanuel Ashton, they are outlaws! Wild! Thieving! Murderous! With no respect for the church or anyone!" She shrieked, shaking him by the shoulders.

"But mum, they've protected me from-"

"Look at you," she muttered, ripping his riveted helmet off his head and snatching his spear from his thin hands. "Think you're big enough to take on the world? Think you manage on your own?"

"I never said-"

"Come back home with your father and I, we'll keep you safe-"

"No mother, I won't. I'm old enough to make my own decisions. Look at me. I'm not your little baby you can hold in your arms. I am an outlaw. An outlaw. Things have changed, it's time to move on."

Arthur picked up his helmet and his spear. When his mother didn't respond, he turned his back and walked away.

"Wait," she cried, then her green eyes fixed on Guy. "You're leaving me for him? A brutal murderer? Who's going to take care of me in my old age? What if I'm sick? What if I'm injured?" Then, as Guy observed, she became more delusional. "Leave, then. You're no longer welcome here. If I ever see you here again, I swear to God I'll call the guards, or I'll do the job myself."

Little Arthur doubled his pace and ignored the mad pleas of his mother, tears streaming down his face, his own emerald eyes staring hard on the ground.

"Sorry guys." Arthur mumbled beneath his breath. "Come here." Gwyneth said, putting an arm around him. Guy's body was racked with guilt. At first, he envied them. He'd give anything to have his mother back. But now, it felt as though he was to blame. He should've taken him back to Locksley. No way the boy should've been an outlaw. 'And he isn't going to.' Guy promised. He wouldn't let him kill a man and damn his soul in hell too.

"Giz?" Nazeem said, awaiting orders. "Find a place to stay for the night, do you know what house William and Derry live in? Two boys from Locksley-"

"Third house on the right." Arthur answered.

"Thank you." Guy replied uneasily, still feeling guilty. He turned around and went to follow Arthur's directions, but Nazeem caught his arm and pulled him in close. "Whatever unfinished business you have, finish it quickly." He whispered. Guy nodded and continued walking. He reached the grubby little cottage rather quickly. 'Just get the crossbow and go.' The outlaw planned in his head. He raised a fist to knock, then heard the faint muffled noise of voices inside. Should he knock, or pherphas wait? Guy didn't want to disturb them when the family were in the middle of something. Nevertheless, Guy rapped twice on the door.

"I'll get it." He heard a voice say. Then the door swung open.

It wasn't William or Derry or Marge or Grandpa who answered the door. It was Robin of Locksley. An old wrinkled head popped up over Robin's shoulder. "Gisborne?" Grandpa puzzled. "You. Hood." Guy said, looking from one to the other, then remembered to draw his sword. Robin didn't flinch. He was unarmed.

"How long have you and your men been following me?"

"Someone's jumpy."

"Answer me." Guy demanded.

"Gisborne, I have better things to do with my day. I'm alone."

"Very well. Pick up your sword. Fight me."

"Really? You really want to do this now?" Robin asked.

"Why not?"

"Well honestly, you look exhausted. I don't think you have the energy to do this."

"I don't need food or sleep to drive me." Guy snapped.

"Then what will?" Robin asked, reaching for his own sword and pointing it at him.

"If you two spill a single drop of blood on my porch, then by God, I'll drag you to Nottingham myself." The familiar voice of Marge hissed. Guy glanced behind him; Marge was standing there, a heavy saucepan in hand ready to attack anyone who made the slightest movement. With a sigh, the pair of them sheathed their swords.

"I came for what belongs to me. My crossbow." Guy growled without invitation.

"You'd better come in then. There is something I need to tell you anyway." Grandpa gestured with his hand. Guy didn't want to move, he was perfectly fine where he was. But with great reluctance he inched forward, Robin stepping out of the way, and lent against the door frame.

"You may have your crossbow," Grandpa began, clearing his throat, "if you stay and listen to what I say first."

"How long is this going to take?" Guy demanded.

"Long as a piece of string. This is quite important. A life depends on it. You need to stay too, Robin, this concerns you as well."

"What?" Robin puzzled.

"You heard. A life depends on it." Grandpa reminded. Reluctantly, Robin and Guy sat down at the small table, both their bodies tense and ridged, ready to whip their swords into action at a moment's notice. Something concerning the both of them meant only one thing; it was about the past.

"Now then, a strange man came to me not yesterday morning. He was frail, even more frail than me. And what he told me, is crucial-"

"Is it about the past?" Guy asked, unable to keep his curiosity from bubbling.

"Yes, but there is much more you need to know, Guy of Gisborne, much much more..."

Sorry to leave you all on such a cliffhanger, but I had to draw the line somewhere. I'll promise to add more asap. Thanks.