A/N: Finally a new chapter... I've been so busy and distracted lately. Thanks to Emmithar for the beta!

Chapter 5: Impasse

This wasn't Nottingham and all of them could feel it. They were still taking care, were still watching out for any signs of trouble, but they hadn't drawn the hoods over their faces, and they were not sneaking and lurking in shadows. While the danger of being recognized by any guard or other member of the authority was always hanging over their heads in Nottingham, they did not have to fear this here. Of course, they could never be completely safe... who knew if the sheriff had sent word about Robin Hood to the other shires around Nottingham.

But still, they felt that they could lead their horses along the streets of York openly. They had all cleaned their clothes, had tried to banish any signs of the fact that they were usually living in the forest, and Djaq thought they had done a good job. Robin was once again wearing the clothes he had received from Marian some time ago. He was leading his horse ahead of the others, already looking for the place he intended to go to.

Djaq knew what he intended to do. There had been doubts about it among the outlaws. But then there had been the question how else they could explain why they would have the money and the intention to buy food for a village, if they could not claim to be in charge of it. So Robin was to speak for Locksley, hoping no one would make the connection to Robin Hood, or at least no one who would have any interest in betraying them.

Robin stopped in front of a house that was slightly larger than the ones around it that had been built narrowly, yet there were even narrower alleys of cobblestone leading between them. Djaq led her horse to a thin post in front of the building, the others doing the same. Robin then turned to them and nodded. Much went ahead into the house, Robin, Djaq and Allan following behind, while John and Will stayed outside, as they had previously planned, ready to warn them, if there was any need for it.

If she had not known before, the smell that met her inside would have told Djaq quickly what kind of place it was. There was the mix of pepper and ginger and cinnamon in the air that she had not smelled in a long time. These were not the kind of goods they had come for, neither was the cloth that was displayed at the backside of the store. It were simpler goods they were here for. The gang had often bought food for the villages from the money gained in their heists, but never in as large of an amount as they planned now. Equal amounts of food they had previously only gained, when they had managed to overtake a delivery the sheriff had ordered, like they done in the last autumn.

Much quickly introduced Robin, and Djaq had to suppress a smile, as Robin of Locksley stepped in front of the merchant with all the confidence she knew him to possess. She, on the other hand, stayed behind the others, careful not to draw any attention to herself.

"What brings you here, Sir?" she heard the question from what she had learned to be one of the most important merchants of York. The town was a major trading center, which was why Robin hoped that amounts of stored food from all the shires around would be available here.

Robin had taken up to pretend he was still Lord of Locksley, and somewhere in the back of his mind, and maybe even the peasants', Djaq figured, he still was.

"I have come to request a bargain for food to be delivered to certain villages and any holdings trusted to me," Robin said. "We've had a bad harvest and I feel the responsibility to fill up the storages by other means."

How it was to be paid was not certain yet. The gang had money saved from their last ambushes, but it would never be enough for a sufficiently large delivery to feed all the villages around Nottingham and the town itself. They would have to relieve the sheriff of yet more treasures, money the man surely had planned for other expenditures than anything troublesome as feeding the populace.

The merchant nodded solemnly at Robin's explanation, and Djaq could not fail to see his studying eye on their leader. She wondered if the man had any doubts about the group that was in front of him. They looked like travelers following their Master on his business, but one could not be certain what was going on in the man's head.

"I wonder why you take the trouble yourself to come to York, my friend," the merchant suddenly said in a strangely familiar tone. "You could have sent your servants to make the bargain."

Robin nodded, acknowledging the thought. "I decided to come myself to make sure everything goes in order," he declared, casting a look at Much that could be interpreted as him having doubts of his servant's abilities to handle any instructions he might have given.

Robin's words seemed to be convincing enough, and Djaq figured they would be able to seal the deal, unless someone started to suspect their true identity. They had discussed the possibility. At the end of the day they might even endanger anyone they traded with, if it were to be revealed they were outlaws, but then those could still plead ignorance. This important man of a town like York was certainly not in any greater danger by dealing with them – as unknowingly about them as he might be – as any small backer in Nottingham was who sold them bread for the poor for the money they had taken from the sheriff. It always worked as long as they were not caught.

Djaq hoped they would come to an agreement quickly. There was still the possibility of anyone recognizing them and deciding to collect the prize that was set on each of their heads in Nottinghamshire.

She knew that Robin had other intentions in the town as well. He hadn't explicatively told any of them about it, but she could understand that he wanted to explore if there were any information about what was going on in England to be gained as well, at least more than they would be able to learn in Nottingham.

Besides all of this, Djaq wondered about Allan. The man had appeared unusually reserved during their travel. She had wondered if it would be helpful to address him about any potential troubles he might have, but then she had also noticed the gazes Robin held on the man from time to time and had wondered yet more so if anything had happened between the two men that she didn't know about.

When she thought more about it, she remembered that both Robin and Allan had been keeping more to themselves ever since the autumn. While Robin had voiced several times that he trusted them as a team, he had still went on many sole tours, leaving even Much behind. But while she believed to know what was troubling Robin, she did not know what Allan was hiding. With the observations she made between the two, she could only muse if it was anything the two men, but nobody else, knew about.

Allan turned from where he had apparently looked at the goods the merchant was selling. Djaq met his glance with an open expression. She would invite him to talk later, if there was an opportunity. For now she decided to focus on Robin's dealings.

"I see this as an acceptable price," the merchant was saying, and Robin nodded.

"I will take this as a first delivery. I would require more later."

The other man smiled.

Djaq knew they didn't have money for more than what had already been agreed upon, but she figured that Robin was already coming up with some kind of plan. She could see in his face that he was satisfied.

"Thank you, sir, and I wish you a good travel home," the business man said then.

Robin's expression was still content. "I will stay here for a little while longer, but thank you." He nodded and turned to leave. Much once again led the way and Djaq was the last of the group to leave the house.

The first thing she saw outside was Will's questioning expression. "Did you get the food?"

Robin nodded. "Grains and peas. Enough to feed the most desperate."

"Good," Will nodded as well.

"I'm going to stay here with Much and Allan," Robin went on. "I want to see what else we can find out about the king. The rest of you need to ensure the delivery gets back to Sherwood, and to the villages. We'll follow behind with the rest when we get it."

Djaq knew they had to get the food to Nottingham as quickly as possible, but she left the three men behind with many questions on her mind.

The mood in the room was gloomy. The lighting seemed to fit the occasion, dark shadows filling most of the chamber, as Gisborne sat down in a chair opposite of the sheriff's. Dusk was come over the castle, but there had yet to be any candles lit in the chamber.

In the morning Prince John's spokesman had left, the sheriff remaining behind in a foul mood. Gisborne could understand him, and he did not feel cheerful either. If the sheriff lost his position, so most likely he would do as well; unless he had gained the attention of anyone powerful enough to assure his continuing status. Gisborne doubted it though; his attention and activities had always been focused on Vaysey.

He wondered what would be left to him. Little power surely. Locksley would remain his, unless a new sheriff saw fit to give it to a loyal man. He might be able to lead a life without power, a fairly comfortable one at Locksley, with a wife at his side... Yet, it would not fulfill all of his ambitions.

Guy watched the sheriff, who had yet to say anything since his entrance. There was no need to explain the situation of course. When they previously had attempted to raise more money, it had been to be able to pay for the loyalty of the Black Knights. Now their bare survival depended on their ability to give what the prince saw due. Gisborne was not even certain that Nottingham could have paid as much as demanded, if no funds had gone either to the Black Knights, or had been taken by Hood.

It had been quiet about the outlaw recently. Gisborne had at first blamed the weather, hoping the man would feel all the discomfort of the forest in the coldest nights of winter while he himself was sitting by a fire at Locksley. But then these thoughts, that were petty as he supposed, had not helped to explain why they had not heard from the man even when the weather had taken a turn to the better.

Of course, the autumn's events might have left a lasting impression on the outlaw. The humiliation in Nottingham might have driven any man away, never to return.

Despite all of this, Guy was still certain they would hear from Hood again. A few days ago there had been a skirmish in a small village far outside of Nottingham. Guards had been attacked and horses stolen and by all descriptions, Gisborne could be fairly certain that it had been Hood and his gang of outlaws who were responsible.

"There is to be a new tax, Gisborne," the sheriff said suddenly, and Guy was pulled out of his thoughts.

"A new tax, my Lord?"

"A carucage, or how do they call it," Vaysey continued and Gisborne thought he detected a familiar hint of boredom in the sheriff's voice. "It is to help paying for the king's ransom."

Gisborne nodded. They both knew that the prince had different intentions, but they were both certainly not going to argue with the man over that matter, as precarious as their situation already was.

"It will be based on the amount of land owned," Vaysey said with a grimace, Gisborne registering what the meaning of it was.

"Would the estate of Locksley have to pay as well?"

"Of course you will have to pay it, too!" the sheriff's voice was going up a notch. "Just get it back from your little peasants. They don't love you anyway, or do they?" he added with a smirk.

Gisborne frowned, hardly willing to discuss that matter with Vaysey. He had long decided that he did not need any admiration from the peasants. That was what they only were after all, peasants. They did not count.

"No, they love Hood!" Vaysey went on anyway, needing no encouragement from Guy. "I can hardly demand from him to pay though, now can I?" the man's anger was once again clearly showing. "Because of your incompetence, Gisborne! You are sitting there by your warm fire, while the outlaw is dancing on our noses!"

Gisborne knew this was hardly fair. Hood and his men had not shown their faces recently, so he had been given little opportunity to do anything against them. And after all, it was the sheriff's fault, his desire to play with his prey, that the whole band of outlaws was not long dead and forgotten.

Still, it was yet another thing he was not going to discuss with the man.

"So, for the sake of your life, Gisborne, in case you still have to realise this, do me the favour and make sure we get the tax in without any greedy outlaw laying their hands on it, yes?" Vaysey showed his teeth.

Guy only nodded briefly. "Yes, my Lord."

While he usually enjoyed the atmosphere of power that he gained from the sheriff, this feeling had not come as accustomed in recent times. The pressure on the sheriff was weighing on him, too. The dread of a loss of everything was there at every corner. It was the clearest when he thought back to the meeting with the prince's man the previous night.

But despite everything else that was on his mind, the most vivid memory of the evening was that of Marian trying to use the man's presence in her favour. It had not worked. Vaysey could not care less about the old man down in the dungeons, and surely wouldn't do anything to please Marian. It also didn't promise any goodwill from the prince's man for showing mercy to the old sheriff. And rightly so, Guy presumed. If Vaysey had promised himself any advantage from freeing Edward, he would have done so; he did not consider the weak and ill man a threat.

Guy felt slight regret for Marian's sake. She cared deeply about her father and had even come to Guy to ask for his release after all. He had tried with the sheriff once, but naturally the man had not relented. Gisborne knew there was no point in begging. He himself was willing to help Marian, but he would only go so far, would not risk his standing with Vaysey for the matter, especially as he considered the request in vain.

Marian had avoided him recently. He knew it was partly disappointment about his failure to help.

All in all, it had been a quiet winter so far, if it were not for the pressure and threat from London. The sheriff himself had been occupied, having spies and messengers that were providing him with frequent news about the king, the prince and many other matters that were going on in the country. Gisborne had spent much of his time alone, or trying to bring the castle's guards into shape, a hopeless endeavor for the most part, as he once again had to realise. But with Marian avoiding him and Hood not showing his face, there had been little else to do.

But then, only a few days ago, his little spy in Hood's gang had turned up again. Guy was not quite certain if he should be surprised or not. Sure, the man had not been around in a while, but then Gisborne had always figured that the promise of money would bring him back. Then the outlaw had told Guy the story of not wanting to spy for him anymore, because he had not intervened on the man's behalf when the outlaws were to hang in the autumn. Guy had enjoyed the tale. He was not taking it seriously; surely Allan would be back when he had not enough coins left, coins that he obviously craved.

By now the room had sunk into almost complete darkness. The sheriff was sitting in his chair, unmoving and Guy could only imagine the thoughts that had to be going through the man's head. It promised to be a long night.

"A candle, my Lord?" he suggested.

Night had fallen over Nottingham and Marian closed the small bag in front of her. It had to be enough. She had packed the Nightwatchman's outfit, after she had chosen not to wear it this night, as well as a few practical dresses and a couple of other belongings she didn't want to leave behind.

She knew there was no coming back after tonight. She did not plan to be caught in what she would do, but everyone, including the sheriff, would know it had been her.

Her plan was not fool-proof. She had paid a guard that would ensure they were able to leave the town, but from there they would have to make their way on foot, a carriage neither available nor advisable if they wanted to avoid detection. Marian had decided they were to go to Knighton first, a family there would surely be ready to give them shelter for a few hours. Any longer they would not be able to stay, the sheriff surely on their tracks by then. Marian was not certain where they would go then. There were the friends her father had mentioned to her, but how they were to reach them she did not know as of yet. They would have to organise a form of transport, her father being surely not able to walk far. She even doubted his strength to make it to Knighton and hoped she would be able to get a horse sometime during their flight.

To even get that far, she would have to risk everything. She had thought of ways to trick the jailer, but if those were not enough she would have to rely on force, her only advantage being that the malicious man down in the dungeons would not expect any such actions from her, a woman.

She knew the sheriff and Gisborne were occupied in yet another private conference after the prince's man had left in the morning. She had to use the opportunity.

With a last look at the room to determine if there was anything she had forgotten that she did not want to leave behind, she made her way out into the corridor, quietly closing the door behind her. The hallway lay in darkness. With silent steps she moved along, from time to time risking a glance back to see if anyone was coming her way. The chill of the night seemed to be getting to her even more so than normal, although she could also feel the apprehension inside of her. It wasn't a positive feeling. Although she had the hope that her desperate act tonight would end the fears that were connected with her father's imprisonment, she also knew that it could end fatally.

While she made her way down, taking each step of the stairs carefully, she wondered if she should have organised help. She had so often managed to work alone, had for a long time had no allies, but then there was Robin and his men, Robin, who had offered his help. She had declined because she had feared the consequences of any desperate actions. Now she was taken them herself because she felt to have no other way to save her father's life. And now the outlaws were not even here. It had only been a few days since Robin had told her that they were to leave for some time. She was certain they were not back yet; it would be futile to waste time and opportunities going to Sherwood Forest to see the camp and find it empty. So she was alone after all.

A guard stopped her at the entrance to the dungeons.

"Let me through," she said, as authoritatively as she could muster.

"It is late, my lady," the man replied unmoving.

"I want to see my father," she insisted, knowing she couldn't try and take out this guard without losing any hope of doing so with the jailer. "He is ill," she explained. "He is dying." The fact that her statement was true brought a lump into her throat that even the guard seemed to notice. "Please, let me see him." She couldn't lose this opportunity, not now that the sheriff and Gisborne were caught up in their own troubles, and were hardly paying attention to her. Not that her father had much time left in any way.

"A few minutes, my lady," the guard finally nodded.

Marian smiled gratefully and hurried downstairs into the dim corridor leaving towards the cells. With each step she took, her plan seemed to become more foolish. How on earth did Robin and his men always manage to escape from here?

As she walked towards her father's cell, she could see the jailer moving to her side with a wide grin on his face.

"Late night visit, my dear, mmh?"

"Leave us alone," Marian said coldly, not looking at the man.

He watched her for a few more moments, grimacing, before he turned halfway around to leave. Marian didn't hesitate any longer.

She hit the man squarely in the face and as he squeaked in surprise, another blow over the head followed, the man sinking down as a result. Marian was quick to remove the keys the man was carrying on his belt, plunging one of them into the lock of the cell Edward was occupying. The man had to give any reaction to the happenings as of yet. He was just staring at her as she entered the cell, the key in her hand.

"Marian."

She sank down on the cot next to him. "We're going to leave now," she promised.

"Where are you planning to go, if I may ask the question?" another voice was coming from outside of the cell.

Marian felt the realisation that everything was lost as sharp as the wonderment as to what had brought the man down here, when he was supposed to be in deep conversation with the sheriff, far up in the castle, far away from the misery the both men were creating down here. She knew she could not hide the fact of the unconscious jailer, nor that she was in possession of the keys, had taken them from the man.

The only question that seemed to remain was whether he was going to have her directly imprisoned with her father or whether he would have her taken away, to probably never see her father again.

As she turned to Guy, she would have expected to see more smugness in his expression, having caught her, but it was actually anger that she was seeing, despite the apparently well-chosen words he had spoken.

TBC