A/N: Thank you for your comments, I'm glad you're enjoying it so far! Also thanks to Emmithar who once again betaed and who is still a great inspiration ;)
Chapter 3: The Beauty of It
"It's marvelous, Gisborne, simply marvelous." The sheriff turned to the addressed man, spreading his arms. Gisborne remained silent. "This shows that you have to think things through," he went on, as the other man looked at him unmoved. Thinking things through was not his Master-At-Arms' strength, Vaysey knew that, but that was why he was Master-At-Arms, not Master-of-Strategy. The sheriff gloated.
"But what have we achieved, my Lord?" the man spoke up now. "Good food has gone to waste."
"To waste, Gisborne? No." The man clenched his fists in a victorious pose. "It was an experiment and it has worked." Gisborne's face showed no understanding. "I know I shouldn't be using these big words with you." The sheriff rolled his eyes, once again wondering if the other man could actually read. "I tell you, Gisborne, Hood could not win this time! No matter what he did! That's the beauty of it!"
"He ambushed the delivery wagons-," Guy started.
"Yes, yes," the sheriff confirmed eagerly. "Think about it," he went on, figuring that he was once again expecting too much of the man. "If he and his men had shared a meal from it, we would have been rid of the whole lot of them, all at once! There would have been no grand rescue! All the outlaws would have died a wretched death in the forest."
"But that didn't happen," Gisborne once again stated the obvious and Vaysey grimaced.
"No…but if the outlaws had given the food to the oh-so-poor, yes, this would have been marvelous as well."
"The peasants would have died."
"Yes, they would! And who would have been blamed? Hood! Forever losing the trust of the dear villagers, branded a murderer." The sheriff smiled. "Now that was an interesting idea and a grand picture to imagine, and a simpler mind would have left it at that, but not me!" he explained. "I considered the possibility that Hood would notice the food was poisoned. It wasn't likely he would do so before either outlaws or peasants died, but still, I considered it."
"And you placed your man there to follow the outlaws."
"Exactly," the sheriff smirked. "Following them when they run is tricky, but following when they are slowed down by the consequences of their deeds, now that is different. You always have to be not one step ahead of them, but two, that is how you beat them!" He paused to let Gisborne catch up in thought. "I wanted to know what happened, wanted to know if they noticed. They would have no choice but to destroy the food. To save not only themselves but their pathetic little peasants." He showed his teeth widely. "We would have won either way; even if they happened to smell a rat." He grimaced, remembering the spy's tale and that it had actually been dead rats that had given away the poison.
Guy listened, still missing the entire point of what he was saying. "What does destroying the food accomplish?"
"When our little spy heard that they wanted to burn it, he left and collected some peasants from the nearby villages. He told them about a huge delivery of food about to be destroyed in the forest, and the poor, starving men could not help but follow! And what a picture, what a picture!" the man clapped his hands. "I wish I could have seen Hood's face when he was caught burning the food in front of the peasants' eyes!" The sheriff's smile vanished. "It is a sad thing, Gisborne, that we don't have painters talented and quick enough to catch the splendor of such a moment!"
Gisborne looked for a second as if he had asked him to find such men. The Master-At-Arms was so pathetic sometimes.
"But we didn't get Hood," he pointed out.
"No, not Hood, but one of his men we got. He's in the dungeons now. We will take care of him later. More importantly: we have a story! A story telling how Robin Hood stole mountains of food from the poor people and then burned it in the forest, condemning the people to starve in the winter! Yes, a story! A story that will spread. The peasants will tell it in their village, people will keep talking and everyone is going to know what kind of man Robin Hood is!"
Gisborne did not look as if he appreciated the beauty of the situation. The man was too simple, this had long been clear in the sheriff's mind. Gisborne just wanted to kill Hood. Vaysey wished to destroy him, and not only his life, but also his memory. The outlaw had been a nuisance for so long now, he had to be utterly destroyed. A simple hanging wasn't enough anymore either. If the peasants remembered the man as somebody who had fought on what they believed their side, another man might sooner or later wish to follow Hood's example. Vaysey could not let this happen. The man had to be shown to be the traitor to the law he really was, the people had to see that it was only the authority of the sheriff that could be their blessing, or their doom.
Knowing that this was too complicated for Gisborne to understand, he decided to save his breath and instead go and have a look at the outlaw they had caught. This was something even Gisborne would manage well enough.
It had been quick and painful. He had been watching the flames feeding on the sacks of grains they had captured earlier, when the men arrived. He had barely had time to listen to the short exchange between the unknown man and Robin, before the guards had followed. Robin's call to flee had come immediately, but Will had not been fast enough. Sharp pain running up his leg, he had more stumbled than run into the forest. When the horse had appeared in front of him, its rider lifting his sword, he had thought it was over, expecting a sudden, painful stab. Instead there was a stunning blow from the side as another man slammed him down to the ground. He was disarmed and being bound before the world had even stopped turning.
The way to Nottingham had been hell. They had made him walk, but it had resulted in more being dragged than walking under his own power. It had come as a relief to be finally thrown in the dungeons cell, to be finally left alone in the dark. He had just lain there at first on the stony ground, his heart beating fast, every beat resounding painfully in his leg.
After a while, he had moved to sit up. He had avoided standing, unwilling to put any strain at all on the hurting limb, instead only dragging it along as he slid over the floor until he came to lean against the wall. He looked down and saw that there was a tear in his leggings as he had expected. It was not very obvious, especially not in the dim light coming into the cell. In a determined action Will reached down and pulled the torn cloth aside. He wasn't sure what he had expected but what he saw was a clear, long but shallow cut that had stopped bleeding by now, a thin layer of scab over it. Along the cut the skin was an angry red and deep bruising was all around it. Will guessed that this was where the pain was coming from.
He wished that Djaq was there with him so she could take a look at it, as she would know what to do. Thinking about it, he realized that he certainly did not want her there. He swallowed, leaning back against the wall behind him. He guessed that the other outlaws had managed to escape, none of them handicapped as he was.
He sat there for hours as it felt to him, closing his eyes for periods at a time, unable to really rest. Thoughts about the other outlaws wandered through his mind, questions about what they were doing, when they would notice his fate, what they would decide to do. He knew he was not important, not like Robin. He had been able to do some useful things for the gang, like building their camp, but in the fight against the sheriff he knew he would be no great loss. Still, there was no doubt in his mind that the gang would come for him. Robin had given up on his title and lands, on his life basically, to save him and others like him. The gang had never hesitated to come for one of their own, and neither would they now. It gave Will hope, but there was also always the knowledge that any rescue attempt could lead them directly to the gallows.
He had no certainty that they would come in time either. It was a painful memory for all of them, when Allan's brother had been hanged as the outlaws had not arrived in time to save him and his companions. The sheriff was cruel and if he wanted someone dead immediately, they would die a quick death. Will remembered bitterly his father being murdered in the course of moments on not much more than a whim of the sheriff, annoyed about the words the man had spoken. If the sheriff wanted him dead, Will knew he had not much longer to live. The only reason for him to be kept alive would be for Robin to come for him. This conclusion was not difficult to make. Will hoped the gang would come for a rescue, the sheriff wished it as well, and Will could not be certain who would win this battle at the end of the day.
Squeaking came from the door and a bright light followed. Will closed his eyes against it for some moments and when he opened them, he saw two figures outside of the cell, dark outlines against the light behind them.
"See, Gisborne," one of the men said. "We cannot just waste him. Simply hanging him would be boring, a waste of rope actually."
"We do not need to waste rope, my Lord, my sword will do."
"No, you do not understand me," the sheriff's voice sounded through the dungeons. "He will bring us Hood."
"You will never get Robin," Will said finally, trying to bring as much confidence into his voice as possible.
"Did you hear anything, Gisborne?" the sheriff mocked. "I thought there was something." The man chuckled.
"Are we going to kill him then?" the other man asked.
"Hood? Oh, yes, he will die, but not before he has seen, has felt, what the people feel about him. See, Gisborne, Hood wants to be loved. And we are going to show the people's love to him."
"And the outlaw?"
The sheriff came closer to the bars of the cell. Will was still not able to make out his expression, but knew that Vaysey was observing him. "He will hang, once we have Hood." The man kept his gaze fixed at Will. "Although..." he paused.
"My Lord?"
"He looks familiar." The sheriff sounded thoughtful now.
"He is one of Hood's men," Guy stated, as if the other man needed to be reminded of that fact.
"Yes, yes, Gisborne, but there is something else..."
Will bit his lip, guessing what made the sheriff remember his face. The man had felt what poison could do; it had only been Robin's actions that had saved his life. Robin had forced Will to take them to Djaq who he had locked into a room earlier. Will had felt then that he had no other choice because she carried the antidote for the poison he had given to the sheriff. Will still did not regret what he had done, though he was sorry for endangering the lives of his friends. In any way, it had certainly not kept the sheriff from using the same method himself, as Will thought of the poisoned food.
After several more seconds, the man turned away from the cell and left together with the Master-at-Arms. Will closed his eyes, letting out a breath. The thought to provoke the sheriff had been on his mind. He could have told the man why he felt familiar. He could have reminded him of the fact that he had killed Dan Scarlet. The sheriff would not have cared, but Will would have been able to show the anger that was still with him. Maybe he would have been able to provoke Vaysey enough to kill him here and now.
Will did not want to die. But neither did he want to be a lure for the others, lead them to their deaths. He wanted Robin to come, but knew he could not have this without the sheriff being prepared for it. Robin would be smart enough to expect this though.
Will moved to his feet, carefully placing weight on his leg. It still hurt, but the rest had let the pain fade to an extent. He hobbled to the door of the cell, looking at the lock. He had been able to open doors like this one before, but without any tools it would be impossible even for him.
The outlaws had not hesitated. Once Djaq had made clear what had likely happened, they had gathered their weapons and had set off for the place where they had last seen Will, the site of the fire they had made.
Robin led them through the forest, his thoughts on all the things that had happened. He wanted to think about the failed attempt to get food for the winter, wanted to think about the situation that had been created by what he assumed to be the sheriff's lackey, but these things were only at the back of his mind. It was Will who was important now. He would be able to take care of the other issues later, once he had his men back together, safe and sound.
The sun was well on its way down to the horizon when they arrived at the scene of the morning's events. The fire had died, it were merely ashes that were left of the grains. The site showed the disturbance of horses and men that had plowed through.
"Alright, let's look around if we can find any traces, anything they might have lost, anything that could tell us if anyone was hurt."
Robin did not voice it, but everyone knew that he meant they were looking for any signs that Will had been injured, or worse. The man had been hurt before, but had been able to hide it, though it had likely been the reason why he had not gotten away like the other outlaws. They were not able to judge the extent of that injury now. They could only assume that it was not serious enough to cause lasting damage. What had happened on the site they were now though, they had no idea about.
Robin searched through the underbrush around the clearing, Djaq at his side. Her silent demeanor still showed him her worry. Robin was feeling the same way. Walking around bushes and trees, he was afraid of finding a body, though he doubted the guards would simply let any killed outlaw lie to rot there. They would either take him to Nottingham or one of the villages to be presented there, or would string the body up a tree in order to taunt the outlaws should they return. At least this was what Robin assumed, though he wanted to believe that the lack of bodies was a better sign than one pointing at such a scenario.
"Have you seen any blood?" Djaq asked suddenly, pulling him out of his thoughts.
He shook his head.
"It is good," she said quietly. "If we cannot find blood, he has not lost much. If he has not lost much, he can live."
Robin frowned. "We do not know if he was hurt at all." He looked at her. "Save for his leg, of course."
Her expression was serious. "I do not think it was very bad. He was hurting and he had trouble walking. But if the leg had been very bad, if it had bled a lot, he would not have been able to go on so long."
Robin rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I wish he would have said something."
"What would we have done?" Djaq retorted. "We still would have needed to store the food. Burn it when we found the poison. Will would not have stayed behind."
"You would have been able to help, wouldn't you?"
She smiled. "I might have been." Then she nodded. "And I will be, when we find him."
Robin nodded, holding his tongue from saying if. Will would be fine; it was still possible he had been able to get away, and was somewhere in the forest, heading back to camp at this very moment. With a breath he nodded, walking back into the clearing then where John, Much and Allan were waiting for the two of them.
"There's nothing here," Robin said. "Spread out, cover our normal runs. Meet back at camp. If we find nothing, then we will head to Nottingham."
"Do we have time for that?" Allan questioned. "Sheriff can be quick with his hangings if they got him." The truth of that was clear in all of their minds.
"We have to make sure," Robin insisted. "We cannot all go to Nottingham and have Will be back at the camp."
"If they have him, the sheriff will be expecting us," Much pointed out.
"Yes," Robin agreed. "But we cannot leave him."
"It will be a trap," Djaq agreed with Much. "We cannot leave him," she shook her head, looking at Robin with an expression that made him wonder if she thought he expected her to agree with leaving Will to his fate. "But walking into a trap will not help him."
"Yes," he nodded once more. "But what other choice do we have? The sheriff will be expecting us in any way. We have to be ready for that, but we have to go to Nottingham, if we do not find Will in the forest."
Djaq nodded quietly, and the outlaws once again split up to follow Robin's plan. He had hoped they would find Will back at the camp. As he had told his men, they had to make sure that he was not there before they would risk their lives sneaking into Nottingham, probably walking right into the sheriff's arms. But at the end of the day, he had feared that it would come to the truth that Will had been captured. It was certainly the reason why he had hurried. Allan had been right as well. If they did not find Will, they would have to march through the night to make it to Nottingham before any hanging could happen, not that the sheriff would particularly care about observing certain hours of the day for killing people.
Robin was the first back at camp. The others arrived one after the other, Allan being the last. All of them looked at him expectantly when he walked into their camp.
He shook his head. "No sign of Will." Coming to a stop, he pressed his lips together, before continuing. "You're not going to like this."
"Will?" John asked, but Allan shook his head.
"No, as I said, no sign of him. It's not about him," he assured them quickly. "It's the peasants."
"What about them?" Robin frowned, the questions that had drifted to the back of his mind with Will's absence coming back to prey on him.
"They're talking about it everywhere," Allan pointed with his thumb behind himself in what they knew to be the general direction of Locksley. "They're saying Robin Hood robbed the whole of Nottingham's winter storage and burned it all."
TBC