"We don't even have far to go!" the sergeant cheered. "We can just toss him back into the Dungeon of Despair."
William found his voice. "Absolutely not!"
"Huh?" His men stared at him.
William drew himself up. "Robin Good must be first brought before Prince John before we do anything else."
"What!" Robin fell back a step, alarmed.
"Take him to the great hall at once!" William ordered. He shot Robin a pleading look to play along.
Robin regarded him warily but allowed the two guards to take him into custody. As they marched up the dungeon corridor, William tried to think fast. Taking Robin to the prince might only delay imprisonment for a few minutes, but maybe there might be an opportunity for Robin to escape the castle like he had way back at that dinner with Prince John. He lamented that Robin had left his bow and arrows with Lady Marian. William's wooden sword would not be much use against his own guards.
Even if I could be brave enough to fight, we'd both be thrown into the Dungeon of Despair in a heartbeat.
William tried to think of any stalling tactics which he could incorporate in the critical minutes ahead, from filibusters to insisting Robin get a medical examination first, but each idea seemed more futile than the last, and time was running out.
They reached the ground floor, and it seemed every guard they passed erupted in cheers, shaking their quarterstaffs in congratulations.
"See?" some said. "I knew that Sir Guy couldn't have been Robin Good! Sir Guy is too scrawny!"
"I thought so too," others replied, "but I was too afraid to say anything. Think they'll let Sir Guy go now?"
"Tell Prince John! Someone tell Prince John!" The repeated cry jumped from guard to guard down the corridors.
William's stomach started to hurt from nerves, but he could only continue on toward the great hall.
They had to wait ten minutes or so before Prince John appeared, and from his scowl, it was clear they had caught him at a bad time. Settling on his throne, the zucchini glared down at the captured cucumber.
"So," the prince said, "you managed to escape the Dungeon of Despair, the day after the warranty expired. Typical."
"I wasn't the one you threw in," Robin replied calmly. "That was Sir Guy."
The prince leaned back. "So, you're saying Sir Guy beat you at archery then?"
Robin visibly grimaced. "Well, due to bad fletching and a bad wind… yes…"
"And so you want me to believe I have the wrong guy in my dungeon right now?"
"Well, uh, he's not actually— that is—" Robin looked helplessly around him.
Prince John snorted. "I don't know how you escaped my dungeon, but that probably means I just have to get a dungeon repairman to increase the despair level. You'll be the first to try out the new, improved prison."
Robin seemed to grow pale. "All that for fundraising a few hams for hungry citizens?"
"For taking my hams and giving them to greedy veggies," Prince John retorted. "The fact that you use fundraising as a front for your criminal deeds is just a low move."
"It's all legitimate fundraising though!" Robin insisted. "I modeled my charity after King Richard's, back when he held all those bake sales to raise money to go to the Holy Land—"
"Enough!" Prince John clipped. His narrowed eyes had flashed at the mention of his brother. "Richard isn't here right now. As long as you're living in my territory, you'll obey my laws, and I say that all fundraising veggies who purchase hams for anyone besides me are to be thrown into the Dungeon of Despair! Take him away!"
"No!" Robin shrank back, his eyes wide with terror, but the potatoes on either side lifted him, carrying him to the door.
William closed his eyes, unable to watch the thrashing cucumber be carried off to a horrible fate.
He's here because of me, he mourned. I could have stopped this… I have to stop this!
William snapped his head up just as the guards reached the door, and he bolted toward the throne. Words exploded from him: "A boon! A boon! Your favor, sir!"
"Now?" Prince John demanded.
"Hear me out," William pleaded, "before you make you do something you'll regret!"
"Oh, very well," Prince John snapped. "What's so important that you're stalling justice? And it'd better be good."
Now that he had opened his mouth, William could not shrink back from the inevitable. He drew in a deep breath and straightened his shoulders.
"Put me in the dungeon," he said, "in Robin's place."
"What?" Robin blinked.
"I think all that hair tonic is damaging your brain, Sheriff," Prince John sneered.
William took a step forward. "I'm serious, sir."
"Why would you want to go to the dungeon?" Robin cried. "You know how horrible that place is!"
William tried not to wince.
"It is a horrible place. But a guy who is trying to feed hungry people doesn't belong there." He lifted his eyes, daring to look straight at the prince as much as respect due to royalty allowed. "So, if someone needs to be in the dungeon, it's better for it to be me instead of a good man."
Prince John's face held no mercy.
"Then you both can go into the dungeon," he sneered. "Take them away!"
William's guards held up their quarterstaffs, but reluctance hovered on their faces as they hopped toward the tomato. William backed away, then made a feint to the left and charged for Robin, shoving aside one of the potatoes who held him. Robin took advantage of the momentary confusion to knock away the second guard.
The other potatoes recovered from their surprise and promptly advanced toward the pair, who had to hop quickly to keep from being surrounded with a stone wall behind them. William drew his wooden sword, backing away from the guards and keeping himself between them and the unarmed Robin.
"Got a Plan B?" Robin whispered.
"That was my Plan B," William admitted. He glanced at the giant door, calculating the distance. "How fast can you run?"
"I escaped a few giants on occasion."
"Hope it'll be enough for these guys."
Backing blindly, William shepherded Robin toward a peg on the wall, where the rope for a candlelit chandelier had been tied. Now that danger he had dreaded had finally come, he gave little thought to his own survival. He had led Robin into this mess, and it was his responsibility to get the cucumber to safety, even if he took the fall doing so.
Without allowing himself to think about it, William acted.
He grabbed the chandelier rope and untied it —
— the chandelier dropped —
— still holding the rope, William shot up —
— guards shrieked and leapt away from the crashing chandelier —
— halfway up, William released the rope —
— he acted on instinct now, tucking and rolling —
— he cannoned toward a group of ten guards —
— bam! —
—they scattered like bowling pins —
— and William kept rolling and crashed into the wall.
From somewhere far away, it seemed, Robin called his name, and William felt himself being rolled over.
"Are you okay?!" Robin shouted.
"I wish Anne coulda seen that," he murmured, watching multiple images of the cucumber swirl before his crisscrossed eyes.
The world still spun around the tomato, but Robin yanked William up by the collar, hauling him toward the door. William had enough sense to pass the sword to Robin as he stumbled after him.
"Get them! Get them!" Prince John exploded, charging from his throne after them.
The pair burst into the passage, with Robin half-guiding, half-dragging William forward — but the alarm echoed through the corridors, and the thunder of guards carried from all directions.
William regained control of his mind, and he yanked on the halberd of a suit of armor. At once, a door slid open in the stone wall, revealing two fireman poles.
"Quick!" he shouted, grabbing one.
Robin took the other, and the secret door closed behind them just as the first wave of guards spilled into the hallway. They hit the ground in the dark, and other than a few groans, they were on their feet and running. William blindly grabbed the inside handle of the next secret door, and they burst into the kitchens. A few carrot cooks, already at work stirring big mixing bowls and rotating fat hams over the fires, jumped in alarm, but none tried to stop the pair as William led the charge to the door.
"Almost out!" he called over his shoulder to Robin.
Up five steps, down a corridor, then two more steps brought them to the entrance hall, and the large front doors loomed ahead like a beautiful beacon — but they had barely made it halfway across the floor before the other doorways were filled with guards.
William gritted his teeth, focused on the exit, but he had barely reached the oak doors — had hardly reached for the handles — when the doors opened, and a whole troop of guards on the other side pointed their quarterstaffs at them.
William and Robin retreated a few steps, but everywhere they turned, potatoes had formed a thick barricade.
From the back of the room came Prince John's booming voice: "Now, somebody better take them to the dungeon this instant, or some of you will be their cell mates!"
The ring of potatoes took a step forward, further closing the gaps.
William's eyes darted about for some last opportunity — a ram in the thicket — but he saw only the scared eyes of his guards, all of whom dreaded being tossed in the dungeon.
"I'm sorry, Robin," he whispered.
"We need a miracle!" Robin cried, brandishing the wooden sword at the men.
The words had barely left his mouth when a shout from outside the castle echoed over Bethlingham
"Queen Eleanor approaches!"
Everyone froze. A loud gulp arose from the direction of Prince John.
"That works," Robin beamed, impressed.
More shouts came from the guards out on the city wall and still in the streets: "Make way for Queen Eleanor!"
The castle gate opened, and the clatter of a carriage could be heard in the courtyard.
"Make way for Her Majesty!"
Wordlessly, the wall of guards shifted, moving away from the oak doors, clearing a path for a tall zucchini woman to march up the stone staircase and enter the keep. She was dressed in a headdress and a stylish mantle which covered her regal gown, and her authoritative mien said she was someone whom a veggie should not think to cross. Other guards had moved away from Prince John, and the younger zucchini had backed himself into a corner, starting to tremble.
Behind the queen mother, Anne and Robin's friends sauntered inside, looking quite pleased with themselves. When Anne spotted William, she smoothly changed course, but the closer she got to her husband, her hops quickened to an almost unladylike gait, and she all but flung herself against him in a tight embrace.
Almost dazed with relief, William squeezed back, nearly knocking her over.
"How did you get here so fast?" he breathed. "It takes days to get to London!"
Anne's lovely eyes sparkled.
"Remember how we were headed to the Blue Lobster Inn for a wagon?" she whispered. "When we arrived, Her Majesty was asking for a room! She was on her way to visit one of her daughters, but her carriage had lost a wheel earlier. Her servants had lost too much time fixing it, and she had to find a place to spend the night!"
William hugged Anne again, but he regained enough composure and sense to turn his attention back to the queen and her son, though he still held Anne close.
The grand zucchini woman swept forward like a majestic but lethal eagle, stopping right in front of the prince. Though he was half a head taller, he cowered under her stern eyes. Silently, Queen Eleanor reached under her mantle and pulled out a silk slipper. At once her son started to back away.
"Now, Mom— Mother," he stammered, his deep voice coming the closest it ever had to squeaking. He maneuvered around a suit of armor to put it between himself and her. "Let's not be hasty."
"What did I teach you, Johnny?" she asked in a low voice.
He flinched, slumping.
"To do what's right," he mumbled. "To wash behind my ears and try to be polite."
She placed the slipper against her hip, as though holding invisible arms akimbo.
"And when I convinced Richie to let you live in England while he's away in the war, didn't you promise your mother you'd be good?"
"I'm good, Mother," he insisted. "…Enough. Everybody knows they can count on me to protect them against giants—"
"And what's this I hear about you tossing nobles into the Dungeon of Despair again?" she demanded. "Do you want the barons to revolt against the royal family?"
"Robin Good wasn't obeying my laws!" he protested. "He was giving my food away to peasants behind my back!"
His mother was not convinced. "And who's going to farm your lands if all the serfs faint from hunger?"
Prince John drew back. "Oh. Didn't think about that…"
His mother shook her head. "You're coming home with me to London, young man, where Longchamp and I can keep an eye on you."
Prince John looked appalled. "But, Mom—!"
Queen Eleanor held up the slipper, pointing to the door. "Scoot!"
Prince John slunk around her, scurrying toward the door and the carriage outside. Queen Eleanor at once gave a few orders for Princess Isabella to be informed of the changes and for her to join her husband in London within a fortnight. As potatoes hurried to obey, she turned to William, Anne. and the merry men.
"My apologies for the inconvenience, Sir William," she said in a diplomatic voice. "Lady Anne, we must play bridge together sometime."
William and his wife bowed their heads.
Queen Eleanor turned her attention to the cucumber next, who removed his hat.
"As for you, Robin Good, you are doing exactly the sort of thing your king would have you do in his absence. He will be informed of your deeds."
"Thank you, my lady," he murmured, "but I've only been doing what little I can."
"Which is more than what some people do when it's in their power to perform a kindness," she replied.
Everyone bowed once more as she pivoted toward the door and glided out. Already the whole atmosphere in the castle had seemed to change, and William gave his first sigh of true relief in several months.
A/N: Despite being the titular character, Robin's role in this story was mostly the viewpoint character & deuteragonist, whereas I consider the sheriff as the true protagonist. Ergo, it made sense to have the story's climax be from his POV.
