"Sorry to disappoint you, Gisbourne," Robin said mockingly, with a threatening undertone, "but my friend and I must decline your offer to accompany you to Nottingham."
Breaking into a wolfish grin, Robin pulled his Saracen scimitar from its sheath.
Furious, Gisbourne reached for his own sword, then roared out an oath when he remembered he was unarmed, having thrown his sword to the ground at Hood's command.
"This isn't over, Hood," he snarled, enraged that Hood had gotten the better of him, yet again. "I won't forget you, either," he promised, sneering at Allan, who was slowly backing away, pointing his sword at Gisbourne.
"I'm flattered," Allan smirked.
Robin, with his light, nimble tread, backed toward his bow, then reached down to retrieve it. Upon rising, he suddenly felt the world begin to spin as he grew dizzy, completely losing his equilibrium. His spilled blood from Gisbourne's wound to his thigh affected him all at once, and he stood still, about to swoon, willing the world to stop spinning before his dazed stare.
"Go," Robin ordered Allan, weakly.
Robin's temporary state of helplessness gave Gisbourne the chance he needed. Picking up a heavy stone, Gisbourne hurled it at his enemy, striking him in the center of his forehead. "Run, Allan," was all Robin managed to say before dropping to the ground.
Allan had no desire to leave his friend and leader, yet self-protective instincts and common sense made him turn and run. Gisbourne wouldn't kill Robin with Sir Edward looking on, Allan knew, and the best way to free him wouldn't be trying to fight Gisbourne alone, but with the entire gang by his side. All the same, Allan felt lower than he had in months while he ran for help.
Gisbourne, with sword restored to its sheath, stood over Robin Hood, glaring triumphantly down at his enemy, longing to kill him. But, knowing Sir Edward was watching, he contented himself by delivering a series of brutal, kicking blows upon the fallen outlaw's head and ribs.
"Stop, Sir Guy!" Edward cried, horrified at the assault upon the young gentleman he'd watched grow up. "He's down! There's no further need to harm him!"
Guy didn't appreciate taking orders from an old man he didn't respect. But all the same, he was Marian's father, and Gisbourne didn't want her to hear of this. "Bring me some rope," he barked. "We'll tie him up and take him to the sheriff."
...
Unbeknownst to Guy, Marian had no need to hear of the night's events, watching them all from her window, from the moment she'd heard her father's cry of alarm. Closing her shutters tightly, she removed the feminine, filmy nightdress she'd only recently donned, exchanging it for her Nightwatchman costume.
She knew that Allan was running to fetch Robin's gang, but she feared there was no time to lose. It was up to her to save Robin. But how?
Marian quickly thought of two possible plans. She could either wait upon the road and ambush Gisbourne on his way to Nottingham, or wait until Robin was locked in the dungeon, and break him out. A series of guards was certainly less daunting than one Sir Guy of Gisbourne, especially when her father's terrified eyes would be watching. Pocketing her snake-shaped lock pick, Marian choose the second option.
...
Sheriff Vaisey immediately forgave Gisbourne for disturbing his sleep, when he saw the magnificent prize his Sergeant-At-Arms had brought him.
"Oh! This is good! This is good! Gisbourne! However did you capture our elusive Little Robin Red Breast, hmm? I suppose you'll be wanting the reward money."
"Watching Hood die is all the reward I want," Gisbourne sneered.
"Very good, Gisbourne!"
By this time, Robin had awakened, and stood silently before Gisbourne and Sheriff Vaisey, wrists and ankles bound. His head was pounding, his thigh throbbing, yet he didn't despair. He was sure Allan would soon bring his gang to rescue him.
Vaisey skipped before him, his black silk pajamas and sandals covered by a long, flowing, open, feather-trimmed robe, worthy of a Madam in a whore house. The man was practically drooling, so excited was he at the prospect of Hood's imminent execution.
"I won't sleep a wink tonight," the sheriff gloated. "Neither will you, Hood, I think! Throw him in the cell with his bride! Enjoy her, Hood, while you can. In the morning, you'll both hang."
Panic seized Robin, as he pictured Marian locked in a dungeon cell. He shot anxious eyes at her poor father, still clad in his night-clothes. What had happened while he had been unconscious? Had Marian tried, unsuccessfully, to save him?
As Gisbourne led him away to his cell, Robin's thoughts were racing, trying to come up with a plan to save her, before his men could arrive.