Chapter 9

Gisborne let out a shaky, ragged breath. He looked down at the goblet of water. He was used to many a flirtatious smile but hers was different. It was a smile of innocence. A smile you would expect to see on the face of an unknowing child. A smile no one ever bestowed on Guy of Gisborne. He continued to stare at the hut she had entered.

The goblet of water fell from his hands.

"Don't even breathe," Will Scarlet rasped as he held the dagger sharp to Gisborne's throat. His sword was slowly removed from its housing by another and he was marched into the concealment of the trees. A blindfold was tied roughly in place as he stumbled onwards.

Gisborne was thrown down in front of him and the blindfold was ripped off. He blinked as the light from a small fire danced in his vision.

Robin was sat on a fallen log, he tried to remain neutral though his leg wound still shot out darts of unrelenting pain. He would see to it when the boy was returned he told himself, but every day it was becoming harder to focus on anything but the pain. The infection was making him feel constantly sick and dizzy.

He was brought to his senses by Gisborne's questioning stare. With some effort Robin straightened up.

"Where is the boy Gisborne?"

"Go to hell,"

Will moved in, grabbing roughly at his dirt blond hair his head was pulled back and the blade was pressed to his skin.

"Let me do it," Will growled, "let me take his worthless life. One cut,"

"No Will, put the blade down," Robin told him.

"Damn you nobleman," Will shouted back as they had rehearsed. "What would you know about it. You're as bad as he is. Livin the cushy life, gettin fat on all the venison you can eat. Let me take his worthless life, you know nothing."

"He'll do it Gisborne," John put in.

"Then do it, do it now damn you," Gisborne suddenly roared back.

For a moment they were taken aback. Gisborne's cry of anguish actually sounded real.

"What are you waiting for Scarlett you coward. Finish it. What's wrong with you?"

Gisborne struggled to reign in his emotions and Will looked to Robin momentarily confused as what to do. There was no sport in terrorising a broken man.

In another minute Will would have recovered and taken Gisborne for an actor but what happened next was even stranger.

"He's tied to a tree near the south exit. He's guarded by two soldiers." Gisborne told them. "What does it matter now, perhaps his worthless life means something...to someone."

John nodded to Robin and using the end of his staff he knocked Gisborne out with a blow to the back of his head.

"What do you make of that?" Tuck asked.

"It's a trap," John said "what else could it be."

Robin shook his head, "I'm not so sure,"

He got unsteadily to his feet. "I reckon our best bet would be to take Much back under the cover of darkness and there's no time like the present, what say you?"

The other nodded their agreement and began to make ready.

"But couldn't we use Gisborne as a bargaining tool. A straight swap," Marion shrugged.

Robin smiled grimly. "That will be plan B. I can't see the Sheriff giving up a prisoner to save Gisborne's neck can you?."

~o~

The solider shoved her backwards with a scowl.

"Be on your way woman," he growled.

"Would you begrudge the boy some water?" Maeve smiled sheepishly.

"Just a drop or two, I'll be gone then. You'll never see me again. Just a mouthful of water for him and God will smile on your good intentions."

He grabbed her roughly by her shawl and push her in the direction.

"Be quick woman. I can't stand to hear that nagging," he snapped.

The soldiers lost interest in her and stared out into the shadows of the surrounding woods.

Much lay hunched against the tree he was tied to. Even in sleep he looked exhausted with pain. His pale boyish face held a constant grimace.

She put a hand out and ran it gently down his cheek he came awake with a start.

Without speaking he looked up so see the two soldiers standing nearby.

"I've brought you some water," she put the cup to his lips. He winced as it stung his swollen lip but he took a good drink. He gave her a small smile of gratitude.

Using a small cloth she took from the folds of her tunic she dipped it in the water and pressed it to his blood encrusted lip.

"It's alright Maeve, it don't hurt," he lied, trying to move away and wincing every time his mouth made contact with the rough fabric.

"Much what about the other wound?" she asked quickly. "The one to your stomach."

"It's alright," he answered unconvincingly. Truth was he didn't know. Just now the whip marks on his back were overriding every other sense. Everything else came a dull second to those stinging, searing lacerations.

She took down the blanket and opened his tunic to look for herself.

The soldiers had ripped off the bandages she had placed there but thankfully it had begun to scab over thanks to the healing salve she had been using. She nodded in satisfaction.

"We will pray for your soul Much," she whimpered as she tucked the blanket in tighter around him. He looked at her with questioning eyes as he felt her put something in his hand. She shook her head slightly as she continued to fix the blanket around him.

"That's enough woman. He'll be dead tomorrow and won't feel the cold then. Quit your fussing,"

She was reifed up away from him and pushed out into the open courtyard. She drew her shawl around her head and with one last look at Much she hurried away.

"What you staring at outlaw, ain't she a little old for you?" The soldiers laughed at their hilarious joke but turned and left Much alone. They weren't very diligent in their work, standing with their backs to their prisoner they stared out at the forest talking about a certain servant at the castle who was very well endowed and very free with her time. They both laughed like idiots about her as Much worked feverishly on the ropes binding his hands.

~o~

Only two guards, this could prove easier than they thought.

By the sounds of the riotous drunken laughter the rest were in a large central building gorging themselves on whatever meagre rations the village had left.

Robin squinted in the near darkness. He could just about make out the slumped form of the boy tied near the two guards. He could not tell his condition but by the way he was sitting it didn't look good.

With a signal to the others Robin took off skirting the village perimeter. The guards seemed to be oblivious. Just as they neared the two guards Much suddenly sprang up from where he had been sitting and lunged at one of the men guarding him.

The outlaws froze momentarily as the other guard shouted for help. His cries of alarm rang out cutting through the still night air. Dozens spilled out of the meeting house. They were drunk but there were many. Nasir battered his way through with both swords. He tried desperately to get to the boy but others were around him cutting off any rescue attempt.

Robin too fought with all he had. With the first rush of adrenaline he floored two soldiers with the butt of his sword and head butted a third but he was starting to weaken. With infection taking all his strength, he was battered to the ground. The soldiers could have just ran him through with their swords but it was clear they meant to kick him to death. He covered his head with his arms as he was kicked and punched unable to defend.

Just when he thought he was about to breath his last he felt himself dragged up from the ground. Will sliced through armour with viciousness as he pulled Robin with him. John took hold of Robin then and the Soldiers backed up a bit on seeing that Will had free reign to carve them up. With a guttural yell he launched into them, slashing with abandon. They began to retreat. They would fight in any battle they told themselves but Will Scarlett was mad.

All the outlaws made it back safe to the concealment of the forest but they had failed to rescue Much.

They watched as the Sheriff sauntered out of the meeting house. On a signal to others, four soldiers brought Much forward. He looked terrified. The soldiers had promised to make good on the 24 lashes he was to receive earlier. Punishment for his escape attempt. He was in so much pain already he didn't think he could stand it.

He was brought towards the Sheriff. Robert de Reginald eyed him with a cruel smile.

"You've seen better days young Much. With a face full of bruises and lashes to your back I'd imagine you would have more sense than to attempt escape. Now you will suffer more abuse even before you hang. It is a matter of pride to my soldiers,"

Much said nothing, his dark eyes turned to those concealed within the forest.

The Sheriff called out to them, "We have your boy. As you can see he is still in one piece. Well just. He is to hang at dawn tomorrow if you do not give yourselves up."

Robin suddenly stepped into view.

"We have your henchman Sir Guy of Gisborne. Any harm comes to the boy, he will hang. And a letter will be sent to Prince John informing him that his favourite guard was sacrificed for the life of a seventeen year old no count ruffian,"

The Sheriff bristled slightly. He had not known favour with the Prince for some time. On such news the prince may just take it into his head to journey to Nottingham and run things. The Sheriff couldn't have that.

The Sheriff straightened up "The boy hangs at dawn, you have sealed his fate."

Without another word the Sheriff turned on his heal and walked back towards the meetinghouse.

Robin locked eyes with Much. He wanted so much to convey some reassurance but Much was grabbed roughly and marched between the soldiers to an unknown hut in the village.

Robin turned and walked back towards their camp. He made it halfway before he collapsed to the ground. John and Nasir brought him the rest of the way.