A/N: Once again thanks to Emmithar for the beta!

Chapter 2: Night Hours

Will was stunned. "Poison?" he asked baffled, looking first at the sacks of grain that still filled two of the carts they had gained in their ambush, and then back at Djaq.

She nodded.

"We cannot be sure," Robin contradicted her, crossing his arms as he walked around the one empty cart with a scowl on his face.

Djaq turned to him with a grave expression. "The way the rats look, I have seen it so many times before. People lay out poison to kill the rats. They die quickly."

"So somebody could have laid out poison somewhere, the rats ate it, got between the grains then and died there," Will suggested, unwilling to give up on all of the supplies.

The Saracen shook her head. "They die quickly. They were in the bags; these rats died from the grains."

Robin still did not seem convinced, or maybe he did not want to be convinced. Will could understand the sentiment. These supplies were vital for them and their desire to aid the villagers.

"We have to make sure," Robin decided.

"Not being funny, but how can we make sure? I'm not going to eat any of it to test it," Allan shook his head at the archer.

"No; no one will eat any of this before we have made sure it's safe," Robin agreed with the man. He looked at the animals that had pulled the carts and that were now feeding of the plants that grew at their feet. "Feed a bag to an ox; we'll see what happens."

Nobody spoke up against this plan as Much and John went to empty a sack of grain in front of one of the oxen. The animal merely moved from chewing plants to devouring the grain, while the outlaws were watching curiously in the shine of their torches.

With the entire pile gone, the ox seemed fine. In fact, once finished with the grains, the creature turned back to plants that had caught its attention before.

"Well, the ox isn't dead," Much stated after a while. "So the grain is safe, right?"

"It takes a lot more poison to kill an ox than to kill a rat. And more time," Djaq reasoned. "We have to wait."

"We can't stay here all night, now can we?" Allan questioned, clearly shivering.

"We wait," John said decisively. The outlaws settled down as best as they could, Will joining Djaq close to one of the torches they had put into the ground. He wanted her to take a look at his leg, but was still trying to come up with a way to address it without worrying her too much.

"Do you have time?" he asked her quietly. Her response never came.

"Hey, he doesn't seem to be doing so well," Allan said suddenly and everyone's attention was drawn to the animal that was shaking now. It had stopped feeding of the plants and was stepping around them nervously instead. Moments later it laid its head on the forest ground, its legs twitching until it fell.

"I guess that answers our question," Allan remarked dryly.

"They poisoned the food!" Much exclaimed. "They really poisoned the food!"

"We don't know if it happened on purpose," Will pointed out, unwilling to believe that anyone would go so far to spoil food the people desperately needed. "It could have been an accident."

"Of course they did it on purpose! They knew we'd take the food and eat it and get sick and die!" Much cast dark glances at the sacks of grain.

"It could be corn cockle," John said quietly. "The weeds grow in fields. Sometimes they get harvested as well."

"Whatever the case we must destroy it. We'll have to burn it," Robin said suddenly. He had been silent so far, but wore a dark expression on his face just like Much did.

"What?" Will found himself exclaiming. "I mean, we know that one sack was poisoned, but maybe the sacks in the other wagons are not. If its…whatever John said, then surely it can't be in every sack." He paused. "Robin…we need these supplies."

Robin nodded grimly. "I know."

"We could test every sack and try if it is good or bad," Djaq suggested. Will wanted to agree with her, still not ready to give up on all the food.

Robin shook his head though. "We cannot risk it."

"Once we've tested it, it's gone too, I'm just saying," Allan pointed out.

"But we cannot just burn it all!" Will knew he was fighting a lost battle.

"We have to," Robin decided. "We can't just leave it out here either. If someone finds it..." He shook his head. "Much is right. The sheriff knew we'd ambush the delivery. I have a hard time believing this is just an accident. He knows that we are hungry, that the people are hungry, would guess we would try to take the supplies. He must have had the food poisoned. He knew we would eat it first before taking it to the villages. And if we did…a few dead peasants would not bother him," he added with a furious undertone. "That's how the sheriff thinks. He doesn't mind if people die just so he can get rid of us or give us a bad name. Many people would die. Others would think we are murderers, giving poisoned food to people in need." Robin was pacing alongside the wagons now.

"We cannot burn it here," John stated with a firm voice.

Robin turned to the man, his expression still showing his anger.

"John is right," Will agreed, before Robin would argue his point again. "If we make a large fire here, with all the dry leaves around, the forest might catch fire."

Allan shuddered. "Now don't give the sheriff yet more ideas."

"Or Gisborne," Robin added darkly. "He burned down Knighton Hall; he'd burn down the forest to destroy our camp, if he thought he had to."

"But surely he wouldn't-" Much started, but Robin interrupted him.

"John is right. We need to find another place, a clearing, where we can burn it all."

It was a depressing thought to put all the effort into destroying supplies that could have helped to such a degree, if it wasn't for the screwed plans of the sheriff. Will joined in loading the sacks of grain they had unloaded earlier back onto the wagons. The night had proceeded far now and it was only the work they were doing that kept them warm. As they had only two of the oxen left now, they had to load everything on only two of the wagons. They would have to dispose of the sacks back at camp at a later time.

Will was more than weary when they were done and was glad when Robin asked him to drive the first wagon back out on the forest road. Djaq joined him while John and Much took the second and Robin once again vanished to see if the road was clear. They didn't expect anyone to come through at this time of the night. Now that they knew of the sheriff's plan, they also knew the man was not bringing back any help.

It had been a long day for him. He was used to it though, his profession demanded that he was ready and willing to wait for long hours, to be on the watch day and night if need be.

The order had been simple at first, though maybe taxing for anyone less patient than him. He was to follow the train of wagons that crossed Sherwood Forest this afternoon on their way to Nottingham. He was to remain out of sight, not just of the guards that drove and protected the carts, but also of anyone else who might be watching.

He had moved through the forest carefully, staying off the main road and in good distance from the slowly moving wagons. The sheriff had made clear that he was only to watch, not to intervene in any case. He had assured the man he would do so only too readily. It was not part of his job to meddle in any fighting. He was no warrior, at least not in this sense of the word. He was only there to watch without being seen and report what he had witnessed later to the closest detail.

It had been a slow travel through the forest, the wagons stopping several times because something was blocking the way. He had waited patiently each time. He was clad in warm clothes and had sufficient supplies to last him through the day and night.

Hours had passed before anything interesting happened. It hadn't come as a surprise to him as the sheriff had warned him about what he had to expect. Outlaws emerged from the forest, aiming their arrows at the guards that accompanied the wagons. He remained where he was, calmly watching. There was a short exchange between a guard and one of the outlaws, but then the fight started, only to be over soon. Most of the guards fell, only one man escaped. The outlaws triumphed.

The man allowed himself a small smile as he watched them battling with the oxen then. It took them longer than the fight with the guards had lasted. After a while, the track was finally moving again. Yet a little later one of the outlaws, the one he assumed to be the infamous Robin Hood, left the others to their own devices, making his way along the road. He had nearly been caught then, having to draw even further into the brush. He waited well until Robin Hood was out of sight before he moved on, following the track along the road and finally a trail that lead them deeper into the woods.

By the time the outlaws stopped their leader had returned and they started unloading their prey. The spy settled down nearby. It was night now, but he could see them easily in the shine of their torches. He had lit no light for himself. He only watched as two of the men left, carrying away part of the supplies they had stolen.

It was not long after the men had left that an uproar among the other outlaws started. Now the man was really curious. He knew the food had been poisoned, the sheriff had told him, so he knew what to watch out for. He could not imagine that the outlaws had detected the fact so quickly. Surely none of them had eaten from the grain yet. It was in no state that a human would touch it; it still had to be processed; it could, in this form, only be fed to animals. This was a possible explanation; they had fed one of the oxen with it. The man observed the animals closely, but they appeared to be doing fine.

It was then that he saw one of the men picking up a small, hairy animal. The long tail gave away the rat, and he could hear one of the men complaining about the dead rats they had found in the supplies. So they had only found vermin, not discovered the poison.

Then a smaller man spoke up. It was a woman actually, he noted, observing her more closely. She was clad like a man, but his trained eye did not miss it; she clearly belonged to the other sex. She told the other outlaws of her suspicion that the rats had died of poison. They did not seem to believe her at first, but she spoke convincingly in what was obviously not her native tongue.

The two outlaws who had left earlier returned and the man listened to the discussion among the thieves, to their arguments about what they were to do with the poisoned supplies. Some were not convinced of the fact. Some of the grain was fed to one of the oxen. It took a while until it died, but die it did, and the outlaws had the proof they needed.

His interest was sparked once again when the decision to burn the food was made. The men packed up the supplies and returned with two of the wagons to the forest road. They would search for a place where they could make a fire, but for now they were once again moving at a slow pace at first along the trail, then on the road.

The man made sure to move faster now. Once he had determined the direction the outlaws were taking, he hurried for the first time on his mission. With light steps he moved through the forest, heading for the nearest village. This night would become more interesting yet.

In the hours of the early morning Will set a fire to the heap of grain they had mounted on a clearing near the edge of the forest. They had cleared the surrounding space of dry leaves and branches. The carts had been set aside, the two surviving oxen feeding on the plants of the forest once again.

Djaq knew how little Will liked the fact that they were giving food to the fire, food that had been supposed to last the peasants through the winter. Robin seemed just as angry. He was concerned about the renewed lack of food they were facing as well, but she understood that it was especially fury about the sheriff's actions that was burning inside him now. While the fire grew, greedily eating the food, Djaq walked over to him. He stood there, a deep frown on his face.

"We can be glad we noticed that the food is poisoned," she reminded him gently.

After a moment he nodded. "I know."

"The sheriff intended an evil that did not happen," she continued and Robin rubbed his face.

"Not to think of what would have happened, if we had given the food to the peasants." He shook his head.

"Many would have died," Djaq confirmed, remembering the strong ox falling, his legs twitching.

"How many will starve this winter?" Robin replied, a helplessness in his voice that Djaq did not like, but she had no answer for him and neither was it in her nature to give him false hope. Not that Robin would fall for it anyway.

She moved closer to the warmth of the fire, it serving at least this one purpose for her. She had never quite gotten used to the coldness of the English land. She was not looking forward to the winter. She watched the flames dancing, the early morning sun joining them to light the forest clearing.

"I told you!"

The shout had come from behind her. Djaq turned around and saw the other outlaws doing the same, as none of them had been the one to call. A group of men was running up to the patch of forest and she realized that they must have seen the smoke that was rising up to the sky, higher than even the top of the trees around them.

"First they steal the food, then they burn it!" the same man as before cried out, but he was not speaking to the outlaws, but to the other men instead who were likely peasants as Djaq quickly noted, judging from their appearance. The peasants stood aghast, staring at the burning mountain of grain, while the sly man who had spoken almost seemed to blend in with the trees.

Robin strode forward. "This food is poisoned," he called, pointing at the flames.

"I saw them taking several sacks away, probably to their hiding place," the unknown man retorted, once again speaking to the peasants rather than Robin.

Before anyone else could say anything, several more men appeared, riding, guards instead of peasants this time. The villagers hurried to get out of their way, while Djaq counted at least two dozen men approaching.

"Go," Robin called. "Go!"

Djaq followed the order, hastening into the bushes, leaving the burning remains of their efforts behind. She ran, jumped over roots and fallen branches, following narrow trails that led her deeper and deeper into the forest, the underbrush getting thicker the further she went. After a while she slowed down, certain to have lost any guards who might have followed her.

Now she had to get back to camp, as all the outlaws would do, once they had left any pursuers behind. Djaq was not sure where exactly she was, but she could tell the general direction. The trees were too thick over her to see the sun, although the leafy trees had lost almost all of their foliage. When she finally reached a small clearing, she tried to determine the direction she had to go by the shafts of light streaming through the branches. Knowing it was still in the morning, the sun provided her with a much needed trail to follow.

She was tired. They had left the camp around noon the day before, had made their way to where the food delivery was to come through in the afternoon and it had taken them till the night had broken the previous autumn day to begin unloading the goods they had stolen. It had all been in vain at the end, although Djaq still hold herself to the calmness of mind that they had avoided a far worse situation by their discovery poison. A slight worry crept into her though, when she thought of the situation earlier, before the guards had arrived at the burning site and the outlaws had scattered into the woods. The villagers would be angry…but given time they would surely understand.

It was once again around noon when Djaq arrived back at the camp. Allan was there, as well as Much and John. She could see neither Will nor Robin, but Much told her that the latter had been there and had left on his own some time earlier. Will's absence caused her greater worry, for another picture she had witnessed earlier came back to her mind.

"Will," she said suddenly, as she remembered her earlier realization. The other three man looked up, expecting to the see the as of yet absent man arriving at their homestead, but there was no one and they turned to Djaq in confusion. "Did he get away?" she asked, slightly anxious now.

"Sure he did," Allan replied, shrugging. "Why wouldn't he?"

Djaq had relaxed somewhat after the first part of his answer, only for the worry to come back fully when she understood that Allan was only following his assumptions.

"He was hurt," she said.

"Who was hurt?" Robin asked sharply, appearing at her side with quick paces.

"Will. He was hurt when we were fighting the guards yesterday. He had trouble with his leg. He did not say anything. I think he did not want anyone to worry."

"He hasn't come back yet," Robin stated grimly. It wasn't a question.

"He was in pain;" Djaq went on. "I do not think that he could not run. I thought he would come to me. Would ask for help. But he did not." She shook her head sadly. "I know he cannot have run. I should have gone to him."

TBC