Chapter 1.
Robin hadn't slept in days. The symphony of violence he had become accustomed to was now distant replaced by the background noise of a car's motor, yet the sounds stayed in his head. The sights stayed behind his eyes like snapshots each with its own detail. The look of pride on a private's face, the look of fear on his corpse. His thoughts were interrupted by the taxi driver. "Okay your home that'll be twenty pounds sir." Robin sighed and handed the driver his money. "Thank ya very much sir." Robin took his luggage out of the car's boot and took in the surroundings. His manor house. The greenery of the trees, the grass, the small dandelions in the grass brought him comfort away from the sights he'd seen in the middle east. His men ripped to shreds by car bombings, untrained men consumed by false promises of martyrdom killed within seconds. But for now he could forget these terrors and breathe a sigh of relief being back home in Nottingham.
He approached the old Tudor structure and read a sign on the door, if you can call a piece of printed paper a sign, which stated "New tenants". Robin's heart sunk. His mind became consumed with denial, and he looked at the paper again. It hadn't changed. Robin knocked on the door and impatiently waited, until the door creaked open. His housekeeper Mr Jackson was Robin's first sight. "S..sir Robin I didn't know, we didn't know you'd be returning." His housekeeper's stutter and look of fear on his wrinkled face made Robin uneasy. "What do you mean? And what's with the wind up on the door I'm not exactly in the mood Jonas." Robin gave an awkward smile at that point. His housekeeper remained in the same state. "The Sheriff came over with Prince John and said that he was in charge and that you deserted going to war. We couldn't argue sir we tried I promise sir." Jonas explained in a distressed tone. A small bead of sweat ran down his face. Robin's heart sunk further and anger began to take control of his mind. "Okay I'll get this cleared up don't worry so much. Where is the Sheriff?". Robin asked calmly. "He's in the study Robin would you like me to introduce you?". Replied Jonas in a slower tone, his body had stopped shaking and he wiped the bead of sweat from his forehead. "Yes please Jonas. Lead the way." Robin forced a smile confusion was still present however and all he wanted was to sleep in his bed. Something he hadn't done for three years. Jonas lead Robin up the cream carpeted flight of stairs, he ran his fingers across the oak banister and walked across the long hallway.
Jonas opened the study door to reveal a short bald, bearded man reading in Robin's favourite chair. "What is it?". The Sheriff snapped, not taking his eyes off the book.
"Sir Robin is here to see you Sheriff. He's back from the war." Jonas proclaimed with a grin on his face. The Sheriff lifted his eyes away from the novel. "Well well how nice to finally meet you, do have a seat." Said the Sheriff with a smile.
"What is with the sign saying 'new tenants'? and why are you sitting in my chair? Explain yourself." Questioned Robin his tone now stern rather than calm his eyes now wider.
"So much for formalities. Well as you are aware I've been your stand in for the past three years whilst you've been the big hero in the middle east." Explained the Sheriff.
"Yes I'm aware you were my stand in so why are you still here?". Interrupted Robin.
"Well I had a visit from Prince John and he liked my work. He gave me ownership of this estate and your position. So technically this is my chair." The Sheriff donned a smug grin.
"That's bollocks. Where's your proof?" Robin's fists clenched, his anger began to show in his voice.
"This legal document." The Sheriff pulled a letter out from the desk. I had a royal seal on its top and bottom. "Dear mister Sheriff blah blah blah, we have decided that Robin of Locksley has been disloyal to his people, putting conquest before their needs. More boring jargon. With permission of Prince John we now give you his position and his estate. Keep up the good work." The Sheriff's grin grew. Robin froze his heart drowned. Anger dominated him. "Now Robin I would like you to leave I'm a busy man." The Sheriff looked at his novel once more. A tear ran form Robin's hazel eye. His mind filled with sorrow. "Get out of my chair." Said Robin quietly. The Sheriff sniggered. "GET OUT OF MY CHAIR!" Robin demanded with tears running down his eyes. Robin reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a fully loaded M9 pistol and cocked it.
"Now now Robin did we forget about our little silent alarm? Oh and the CCTV camera in the corner?" The Sheriff asked patronising Robin. He stood silently. "You did? Tut tut Robin look at what this war has done to you." He said shaking his head. Robin's anger took over his anguish. "Now Robin the police are on their way so perhaps you ought to make yourself scarce." The Sheriff picked his book back up and began reading as if nothing had happened. Robin looked into the left corner of the room and saw the CCTV camera. He fired two shots and the lens. He then pointed the side arm at the sheriff once more and walked to the side and aimed at an angle. He pulled the trigger knocking the novel from the Sheriff's hands. His soldier instinct to survive took over his anger. "You are a silk covered piece of shit and I won't rest until you are wiped from the face of the Earth." Robin then walked closer to the Sheriff and spat in his face. He walked out the room and ran down the stairs. He ran from the Tudor building and saw his possessions. He picked up his rifle case and sprinted out of sight.
After an hour or so his adrenaline died down. He had no idea where he was, he looked around tired and distressed. He saw trees surrounding him in under the dusk's dark sky. He sat under an old oak and checked what he had on him. His pistol, his rifle, twenty pounds and his mobile. He checked the BBC news stream. What he saw sent sorrow into his heart. "Today CCTV footage showed Robin of Locksley attempting to murder the Sheriff of Nottingham. He has been proclaimed as an outlaw and a menace to society and most likely mentally unstable." Tears again ran down his face, his distress became anguish. He'd given blood, sweat, risked his life in service to his country and to his King and this was how he was repaid?. He set his head down on a nearby log as the sky turned from blue to black, his fatigue caught up with him and he went to sleep not knowing what lay in store the next day.