"Go away, Robin! We want nothing to do with you!"
Robin's men cast confused looks from Owen, the miller of Nettlestone, to one another, then looked to their leader for guidance. Robin stood firm, continuing to look Owen in the face.
"We've brought you food," he told him.
"Take your filthy leavings, and go away!" Kate, Owen's wife almost screamed. "You think you can rob us, then bring us a portion of what you've stolen? We don't want your charity; we want our goods back!"
The people of Nettlestone angrily muttered their agreement.
"Rob you?" Robin cried, aghast. "I never robbed you! I help you, time and again! I'm trying to help you now!"
"Let's go," Much advised his master, made nervous by the angry looks on the villagers' faces.
"In a hurry, Hood?"
Robin and his men tensed at the familiar, deep, breathy voice of Guy of Gisbourne. Steel blades hissed as Allan, Much, and Djaq unsheathed their swords, while Little John and Will held up their weapons.
Robin turned slowly around to face his enemy. Gisbourne wasn't alone. His entire squadron of men, fully armed and dressed in their black and yellow livery, stood guard behind him like a swarm of angry bees.
"Double the reward to any man who captures Hood!" Gisbourne bellowed. "But remember, the sheriff insists we take him alive...unfortunately!"
A battle ensued, with Robin and his men vastly outnumbered. The angry villagers of Nettlestone unbelievably joined forces with Gisbourne's men, wielding staffs and pitchforks and broomsticks, anything they could get their hands on to inflict damage and capture the outlaw.
"Don't hurt them!" Robin ordered, making Allan furious, and putting them at a grave disadvantage.
Even so, Robin's gang appeared to be winning, fighting off Gisbourne's men. But a blow to the back of Robin's head from the millstone knocked him out cold.
"Master, look out!" Much cried, too late.
"We go, now!" Little John ordered, knowing their only chance to save Robin would be to escape themselves, though it took both Allan and Will to pull Much away.
Standing over Hood's unconscious, listless body, Gisbourne sneered in triumphant.
The miller, sweating from his exursions, grimly faced the sheriff's Master-at-Arms. "What about the reward, my lord?" he asked, wiping the sweat from his brow.
Gisbourne turned his sneer away from Hood. "Oh, you'll get what's coming to you. Guards, seize him!"
The chaos that broke out was quickly stilled by Gisbourne's men, who held a struggling Owen. "Collaborating with outlaws," Gisbourne sneered, clicking his tongue.
"I caught him for you!" Owen protested.
"Today. But that hardly negates all the other days, you've taken his charity. How else did you know, Hood and his men would pay a visit to you here, today?" Swinging himself into his saddle, he lifted his voice and bellowed, "Take them both to Nottingham!"
...
"Oh, yes! This is good! This is good!"
Sheriff Vaisey couldn't be more excited, if the heavens opened and began raining money. He finally had Robin Hood in his clutches, and this time, he swore, there would be no escape.
Robin, head bleeding, half stood, half leaned, with his back against the rough stone dungeon wall, clapped in irons, shirtless. Vaisey almost skipped back and forth before him, studying his thin but muscular frame.
"So! The rumors are true, Hood!" he proclaimed.
"What rumors?" Robin asked, not knowing how he'd gotten here.
"Number One: You have taken to robbing the poor! And Number Two, my personal favorite...you really do sport an eagle on your chest! Oh, yes! This is good, good...very good!"
Robin, head swimming, tried to focus his thoughts, but couldn't.
"What? No answer?" Vaisey chortled. "Come now, Hood, you can do better than that! I was hoping to torture you, once we'd enjoyed one of our little chats. But if you don't play along, how can I have any fun, hmm? I might just have to think up other ways to enjoy your company! Oh, yes!"
Passing in and out of consciousness, Robin barely heard him. He was forced to pay attention when Vaisey slapped him hard across his face.
"Come now, Robin! Why so coy, my friend? Have you nothing clever to say? What think you of your accomodations, hmm? Irons a little tight? Oh, that will be nothing to how tight the noose will feel, around your pretty little throat!"
Robin, finding his tongue at last, managed to smirk, "Hanging, Vaisey? Is that the best you can come up with? I would have thought you'd have something else in mind for me. After all, you've had plenty of time to think of something more spectacular, with all the times I've escaped your evil clutches."
Vaisey's eyes bulged from their sockets as his face turned a shade of purple rivalling the fine Burgundy wine he was swilling. "Spectacular?" he mocked. "You expect me to make your death spectacular? Well, la dee dah dee dah! You seem to forget, my friend, you're nothing but an outlaw, Hood."
Robin, not having the strength nor the heart to argue, stayed quiet. But his taunt had fired Vaisey's imagination.
"Oh, yes!" the sheriff cried, finishing off his wine and crowning Robin's splitting head with the upside down chalice. "I've changed my mind! I, Vaisey, crown you, Robin Hood, King of Outlaws!" He chortled in malicious glee, clapping his stubby fingered hands together. "And a king deserves a coronation, does he not? Oh, yes! Yes! This is good!"