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

Chapter 5: Outlaws

The last thing that Will saw was the sheriff riding away, off to see where Robin and the gang had been caught. Then everything went dark as the hood was pulled over his head and he drew in a panicked gasp of air, his breaths quickening. It was as though he wanted to get in as much air as he could as long as it was possible. Adrenaline was running through him, his heart beating quickly, his thoughts on both the looming event and on the sheriff riding gleefully away so that he could finish off the rest of the gang.

In one defiant moment, Will reached up with bound hands in an act of desperation, tearing the hood off his head. Turning around he threw it at the perplexed hangman. The motion made him lose his balance and he fell from the stool he had been standing on, the hangman who had not long been put off by the turn of events grabbing for him, but missing, as Will rolled off the platform that held the gallows. Glad the noose had not yet been around his neck when he fell, he jumped to his feet, the rush of the moment dampening any pain he might have felt in his injured leg.

He turned and saw himself opposite a wall of guards that blocked any way to leave the castle yard and to get out into the town. His bound hands would not make fighting any easier either. In the decision of a moment he turned and ran up the stairs of the castle entrance, darting inside, shouts and mocks of the guards following him, joking about his stupidity of walking right into the sheriff's stronghold.

Will knew that he had no other choice. He hurried along corridors, turned around many corners, hastened up stairs and kept running even as his leg started reminding him that he should not. He still heard shouts and armor rattling behind him. He a was up another corridor, pain shooting up from his lower leg that almost made him buckle, when he was grabbed out of nowhere.

He was pulled around another corner and then pushed into a room before he could even protest, the door closing behind him and the woman a moment later.

"Marian," he exclaimed, but she put a finger to her lips, and he fell silent. She laid her ear against the door of the room and listened intently. After some moments, she shook her head and turned to him, pulling a dagger from a place of her body he had previously not known a woman could hide a dagger. He frowned in confusion as she came up to him with a matter-of-fact expression, setting to work and freeing his hands in the course of seconds.

"Thank you," he said.

"Never mind," she replied with a brief smile, before turning serious. "What is going on?" She looked down and saw his torn leggings that were barely hiding the wound now. "You're hurt."

"Yeah, it happened during the ambush. The food delivery you told Robin about."

He saw the concern in her eyes. "It needs to be cleaned." She was already moving towards a chest, pulling out a white cloth quickly, and Will realized then that they were in her own chamber.

He nodded, almost shrugging. "I thought I'd have Djaq check it out, but that was before they caught me."

Her face showed worry when she made him sit down. He looked down at the wound and saw it only now clearly in the light of the room.

"It's not very deep," Marian said.

"No, it's not," Will confirmed, not mentioning that the pain was bad anyway as she went to clean it.

"You're lucky. Most of it is bruising. There isn't much we can do about it now. The wound has closed, I'll wrap it, it'll help keep it from opening again."

Will nodded and Marian set to work to cover the injury as well as she could. He flinched a few times, guessing that it told her how much his leg was actually hurting.

"Sorry."

"It's alright; at least it's covered now." He wondered what Djaq would have done. Marian seemed to to know well enough, but he knew the Saracen would have been able to do something about the pain. But then Will knew he had no reason to complain. If things had gone according to the sheriff's plan, he would either feel nothing at all anymore, or would be wishing it were so, having fallen victim to Vaysey's cruel ideas.

"Tell me what happened, please," Marian went on then. "What's with Robin? The others? What happened with the food? I heard stories..."

Will's short elevation of having escaped the noose for now was at this moment instantly replaced by a cold feeling inside of him, as the words of the sheriff came back to his mind. The gang had been caught. The sheriff was riding out to get to them.

He felt the failure of not having stopped what he knew would happen. He had known Robin and the gang would come for him. The sheriff had known as well. The gang had walked right into the trap everyone had known about, but as was very clear to Will, they would have thought they had no other choice but to come. They would never have left him to his fate.

"The sheriff has got them," he said.

"Are you certain?"

"No," he answered slowly. "But the sheriff's man said they had walked into a trap."

"Then maybe we're not too late yet. Wait here," Marian told him, moving towards the door. "There are still guards rushing about; if you hear someone come, hide yourself."

Will grimaced as she left, wondering where she was going. For now he didn't have any other choice but to stay in the room. The whole castle would be on high alert as to his escape and as he was not up to much running, not to mention that even showing his face outside would prove disastrous. There was still the longing though to try and get away, hoping he could still warn Robin and the gang.

The events of the last hour had taken him by surprise. Morning had come, Will had been aware of that, but he had not expected that the hanging would take place that early. While he had not been sure the day before that Robin would come in time, he had wanted to believe it. This belief had manifested itself in conviction, and confidence in the gang, as the night went by.

He remembered the time before he and his brother were supposed to hang. There had been no such confidence then. None of them would have dared to believe that any man would obstruct the sheriff's orders to save their lives, not even Robin, no matter what hopes had been connected with his return from the war.

The situation had changed. When morning had come, Will had been certain that the gang would arrive any moment, that they would trick the guards and would have him out of his predicament even before the sheriff has risen from his bed. But when uproar had broken out in the dungeons, it hadn't been the outlaws; it had been an outraged sheriff who wanted to see to Will hanging immediately. Will had struggled against being brought out, a fearful realization coming up in him that Robin would be too late.

Will stood then, walked to the door of Marian's chamber, and listened. The corridor appeared to be quiet. He was tempted to use the opportunity and leave despite Marian's warning. But he could not know how far he would be able to come before he met any guards. He was without any weapons that could help him defending himself. His own small-ax was long gone, and Marian had taken her dagger with her when she left. Will was quite certain she had other weapons hidden in her room, but he doubted he would find them any time soon.

He stepped away from the door, moving to the window instead that overlooked the castle yard. He peered outside, careful to remain unseen from below. The yard lay quiet now, some guards still standing near the ready gallows. Will swallowed. It had been too close. He could only pray he would not get to see up close again what had been prepared for him.

He turned from the window, leaning against the stone wall with a sigh. The sheriff was not back yet, as far as he could tell. Wondering where the gang was, he hoped that the sheriff's messenger had lied, that the outlaws had maybe only been sighted, not captured, and that the sheriff could still fail in his attempt.

Then the door opened and Will was almost about to scramble under the bed, when he heard her voice.

"It's me."

She slipped inside and closed the door quietly. She was carrying a bundle of what Will quickly recognized to be a guard's uniform and a helmet.

"Take this," she said, handing him the bundle. "We need to get you out of the castle."

Will nodded, pulling on the chain mail.

"Maybe we're not too late yet," she added, and he knew she wasn't talking about him now.

He pressed his lips together as he continued dressing, unwilling to voice his fears and find them confirmed by her reasoning.

"And if we are, we're going to get them out," Marian told him firmly, as he put on the helmet as the last touch of the outfit.

He nodded. He had gotten away with the noose almost around his neck; the gang would get away too, if they had indeed been caught. They could not let the sheriff win.

"We're going to the market," Marian explained. "Guy doesn't mind me leaving the castle as long as I have a guard with me." She walked over to the chest she had taken out the cloth earlier and retrieved a cloak. Putting it around her, she went on, "You can leave town then. I'm going to follow as soon as I find an excuse for me to leave as well."

"Alright," Will agreed lamely, his mind racing as to where he was supposed to head. He had no idea where the sheriff's trap waited for the outlaws. If they had been caught they would surely be brought to Nottingham, so maybe it was better for him to stay there until he had news about the situation. If they were really taken to the town, he would only be able to help them, if he was there as well. Leaving and later finding a way back in would prove much more difficult, especially under the circumstances of just having escaped the hangman's noose so closely.

"We have to head out," Marian decided. "Maybe you can find them, warn them-"

There were shouts outside, screaming and banging, coming from the castle yard. Will bolted to the window, Marian coming up beside him, both of them looking down at what was happening in the distance, the yells becoming louder and louder.

Will froze at what he saw.

"We're too late," Marian spoke out what he was unable to say.

They were not far from the gates of Nottingham when Robin noticed that something was wrong. The number of the beggars beside the city walls seemed to have grown immensely. It wouldn't have surprised Robin in itself, times being hard and the sheriff's rule ensuring even more so that more people had trouble managing their livelihood, despite all the outlaws' efforts. But as he looked closer to beggars seemed to be too well-nourished for them to be what they wanted to appear to be.

As this realization hit Robin, he stopped dead, turned on the spot and called, "It's a trap! Fall back!"

"What?" Allan exclaimed. "How can they know we're coming? That it's us?"

"No time." Robin charged ahead, pulling the other man with him, Much and John turning to run as well.

An arrow shot past in front of him, missing him by inches. Another one flew by a hair's breadth over his head, and Robin dropped flat to the ground, before pulling his bow from his back and readying one of his own arrows. He turned to see where the arrows had come from and saw a group of guards riding up to them, several of them carrying bows, who must have been waiting for the outlaws. Robin released his arrow, and another one, two guards falling as a result, but with a glance to the side Robin saw that many of those who had seemed to be beggars were emerging from the miserable quarter next to the town walls. They wore pitiful clothing, but carried weapons no beggar would ever own.

Robin kept releasing his arrows, but then the targets became too many. He saw that Allan and Much were showing signs of surrendering, only John still grimly dedicated to keep going on. Archers were directing arrows at every one of the men. Robin let his own bow sink.

"John," he called. He didn't say more, the tone of his voice enough to convince the older man that even Robin saw no point in continuing the fight. He did not want to surrender, but if they all died out here, no one would be left to save Will, it was a simple as that. As long as they stayed alive, there was still hope.

He turned to look at the men who had surrounded them. At first he didn't recognize any of them, but then he saw a familiar face trailing the guards on horseback. Gisborne was smirking as he was riding to the front.

"Hood," he said simply.

"Gisborne," Robin rolled his eyes.

"I can assure you that I'd kill you here and now," the other man told him, "But we are waiting for the sheriff." The last part was said with a hint of annoyance in Gisborne's face that told Robin that he was not agreeing personally with any delays.

"Always the sheriff's boy, aren't you, Gisborne?" Robin glanced at his men, noticing only now that Djaq was not with them. He hoped it meant she had managed to escape, prayed that nothing worse had happened to her. He couldn't remember seeing her with the other men when the fight started, causing him slight wonder as to her whereabouts.

A man on a white horse came riding over the bridge in front of the town as they were speaking.

"Put down your bow," Gisborne told him, as the sheriff was approaching them. Reluctantly, Robin put the weapon to the ground. "Your quiver, too," the Master-At-Arms added.

Without his bow and arrows Robin's feeling of vulnerability was complete. The sheriff's horse came to a hold in front of him.

"Welcome," the man smirked.

"What do you want?" Robin asked coldly, though he knew the man was not there to negotiate and neither was the gang in any position for it.

"I wanted to take that difficult task of having to slip into Nottingham from you," Vaysey smiled. "Why wait till you are inside? We can just as well greet you here."

"What is it you want?"

"Oh," the sheriff's face was a grimace, "I thought it was you who wants something, or someone, don't you?"

Robin knew there was no point in asking after Will, the sheriff only waiting for an opportunity to torment him.

The man gestured with his arm grandly towards Nottingham. "Now, after you, if you please."

Robin stood nailed to the spot, until a guard lifted his sword and pointed it at his chest. He moved into the direction the sheriff had shown reluctantly, knowing his men were to follow him.

"The people are waiting," the Vaysey added merrily and Robin remembered the tale Allan had heard about and wondered what had arrived of it in Nottingham, and whether the sheriff knew about it. He surely did as it was his spy that had set up the scene that had started the story. Robin's mind raced as he thought of the sheriff's plan that became clearer in his mind now.

They walked over the bridge that led into Nottingham, guards always close at their sides. Robin shared looks with the other three outlaws, but didn't dare asking after Djaq, unwilling to betray to the sheriff that he was missing one outlaw.

"Make way for the sheriff and the prisoners," he heard Gisborne calling, who was riding ahead. People were hurrying out of his way, guards shoving those aside who were not quick enough. Robin and his men followed.

He was not sure what he had expected. When he had been captured before, there had been some uproar in the town, but it was nothing compared to what began now.

Before it had been shouts of disbelief. Now they were shouts of anger. And not at the Sheriff as would normally be expected.

Instead they were directed at them. Cold and callous remarks, full of vehemence. They wore expressions that were indescribable, ranging from shock and disbelief clear to pure hatred. It wasn't until they were further into the market that Robin was finally able to understand the words that were being called.

"Give us our food back!"

"Filthy outlaws! Eat like kings while they make us starve!"

Robin came to a stop, looking around aghast and could only barely dodge a stone that was thrown at him. The guards closed around the outlaws, keeping the people from trying to do any further harm. It was a shame to say that he was grateful for the protection just then. It would not last long, he knew. Once they arrived to their destination, all Hell would break loose.

"Burn them like they burned our food!"

"My children are starving because of him!"

Someone bumped into Robin and he moved on. The yells followed them through town and Robin knew what the sheriff had done. He would not have believed that the sheriff would manage so easily to turn the town's people against them. They had once believed him to be a killer, and that had been by nothing but pure lies. Now this incident had been seen by some peasants, and no excuse Robin could come up with now could persuade them otherwise.

Allan had told them about the angry tales that were being told in the villages, but that was nothing compared to what was going on here in Nottingham. He didn't know what exactly was being told, but he could not imagine that it was solely the report of the food delivery being destroyed that riled up the people. A feeling of numbness came over him as these thoughts mixed with the images he was seeing, the shouts he was hearing.

Then someone touched his shoulder and Robin looked to see John shaking his head and motioning him to keep moving. He hadn't even noticed he had stopped walking again.

"What has he told them?" he asked weakly, making one step after the next. They were lies, they were all lies. But then he knew that the sheriff had used a well-founded basis for his story. As set up as the situation had been, the peasants didn't know the food had been poisoned. They were hungry and desperate, knowing they would be starving in the winter without the supplies. Robin still believed that the food would have never reached their tables, but in the people's mind he had taken away their means of survival.

He remembered what Allan had said; according to the tales they had destroyed more than three cartloads of grain; it was said the whole of Nottingham's winter storage was gone. That the outlaws themselves had snuck in, stolen what little goods were left for themselves. Robin suspected that the storage had never been filled in the first place, but for the people it didn't matter if it had been empty before or if it was empty now after the outlaws had stolen and burned heaps of supplies.

They reached the castle yard and the shouts were dampened behind them, the thoughts of what was being called shoved to the back of Robin's mind when he saw the ready gallows towering over the yard.

"I see the other outlaw has already left the party," the sheriff called. "Too bad. I still wanted to have some fun with him."

Robin looked at first at Vaysey, then at the empty gallows. He could have said something, anything, but did not feel like offering the man any further opportunities to taunt him, and neither was he sure he actually cared for any explanation.

"Yes, we already celebrated our first hanging this morning," the man told him with a smile. "Your outlaw-friend who dared to go and poison me," the sheriff's voice rose in rage, "volunteered to be the first to go. My hangman has done a quick job, as you can see the gallows are already ready for the next of you lot!"

Robin gritted his teeth in anger, bitter grief for Will letting him forget the rage of the people in Nottingham for the moment. What did they matter, when he had just lost one of his own? He saw the smirk of the sheriff, the swinging of the empty noose in the cold win that was blowing over the castle yard, the shouts of betrayal still ringing in his ears. He stood fixed to the ground, weighing the chances of fighting weaponless and with guards all around them.

"Move along," a guard then told him, pointing towards the castle entrance that would lead them to the dungeons. It wasn't until he felt the steel of a sword come to rest against his back that he knew he could not fight here. Robin obeyed then, figuring that if the sheriff did not hang them here and now, not all hope was lost. But he couldn't help but wonder if Will had thought the same, when he had been brought in there before.

TBC