The summer was slowly coming to an end, but during its last days it showed itself once again from its most pleasant side. The weather was sunny, but nonetheless not too hot, there were only a few isolated white clouds appearing in the azure sky, and a light breeze ensured that even the air between the closely spaced trees was still stirred. All in all, these days were made for covering a longer distance without getting into trouble and for this reason the outlaws had decided to go to Edwinstowe, as some time ago the villagers had approached them with a request.
But they had also told them that it was not something urgent, so Robin and his friends took their time on the way to get there. It was no hardship for them to do without a camp for one or two nights and just sleep in any place in the forest. Moreover, they were convinced that no one would be able to surprise them, since no one knew the woods as well as they did. Gisburne and his soldiers were certainly no threat to them as long as they avoided the major roads.
Their confidence was also due to the fact that Robin had by now developed a sense for the "mood" of the woods. There were no signs of danger in Sherwood at present, and the outlaws had already realized that they could rely on this newly acquired ability of their leader, even if he did not yet know exactly what to make of it.
If he was being honest, none of this was really anything new, but at first he had not wanted to trust his senses when it struck him that the woods themselves seemed to be trying to convey something to him. Therefore, he had simply ignored the hints in the beginning, which had put him and the rest of them in really unpleasant situations a few times. In the meantime, it had dawned on him that this was mainly due to the fact that the upbringing he had enjoyed in his father's castle often made it difficult for him to accept certain aspects, as they contradicted everything he had been taught. Woods that could not only sense dangers, but also pass on warnings, certainly fell into the category of those elements that he was suspicious of. For this reason, he had initially dismissed his perceptions as imaginary.
But he had also had to realize that his refusal had something to do with the fact of distinguishing himself from his predecessor. By now he felt he was over both not believing his own feelings and resenting being once again compared to Loxley, who had possessed all these abilities - like 'reading' the woods, but also being able to access lucid dreams and visions that did not come from Herne - from the very beginning. Robin, on the other hand, had first needed to acquire all of this, and as a result, he had always felt inferior to the first Son of Herne, even though his friends assured him that he was only different, but in no way inferior to his predecessor. Robin had not always wanted to believe that.
By now, however, he had learned to rely on what he sensed when he was out in the woods, and so he did not hesitate on this day when, all at once, he received an unmistakable warning.
He stopped immediately, which of course did not escape the attention of the rest.
"What?" hissed Will, who apparently had not noticed anything yet, although he had also developed a certain sense for danger during the years he already lived in these woods. But it was not as reliable as that of his leader.
"We're not alone," Robin gave back quietly.
Nasir had vanished between the trees the moment Robin had stopped, so the rest of them did not have to wait very long for him to come back.
"Soldiers," he informed them, pointing in the direction they were heading. The direction in which the village was located that was their destination.
"Let's go an' see what's goin' on!" demanded Will right away. Robin saw no problem in complying, so he gave his consent. The group started moving once again, but they were now even more attentive than before.
Which, however, did not spare them from being almost taken by surprise. In retrospect, Robin came to the realization that the peaceful atmosphere that had prevailed throughout Sherwood at that particular time had caused them to become overconfident. But whatever the cause, they almost tripped over the soldiers, which resulted in their inability to conceal their presence.
"Scatter!" shouted Robin to his friends, before he himself vanished between the trees. After all, it was for such occasions that they had sought out certain points in the woods where they would reconvene. Each of them had committed these places to memory, for their lives could depend on it.
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He was prepared for all sorts of situations, but not for thwarting a robbery. Or rather, to prevent the attacker from completing his deed. However, when he came around a curve in the path, he surprised the mugger as he leaned over his victim, who was lying motionless on the ground. As soon as the man realized that he was being watched, he obviously got scared and leapt into the bushes with an agility he would not have thought the other capable of. But this was only fine with him, for he preferred that to having to deal with the man.
However, he could not completely ignore the victim and so he approached him cautiously, especially considering that he could not immediately tell whether the person who had been attacked was still alive. Then, however, he could determine that he had obviously disturbed the assailant before he was able to cut the unconscious man's throat. Since he could not discern any injuries at first glance, he leaned down to turn the victim onto his back. Only to immediately recoil, as he was, to his utter astonishment, familiar with the man.
He had only been stunned for a very short moment, but that was sufficient to now let him become the one who was taken by surprise. One look at the men who had stepped onto the path just a few steps away was enough to make him bolt, for there were three of them and he was without any support. Moreover, he was also aware that he had to expect no mercy from them. His chances were certainly better if he immediately hit the bushes and tried to get away from them. He was hoping that they would be occupied with the injured man long enough for him not only to get a sufficient head start, but perhaps even to be able to hide from them.
Unfortunately, it did not take him very long to realize that they had taken up the pursuit and obviously knew exactly which way he had gone. There could be no doubt about this, for they made no effort to hide their presence from him. Therefore, it soon became obvious to him that he would only be able to shake them off with a lot of luck, but that did not mean that he intended to give up. After all, that was not in his nature. He would, on the contrary, until the very last moment try to save himself.
The longer he was running from them, however, the more often he was overcome not only by a sense of hopelessness - although he tried to push this back - but also by something else time and again, by something that certainly deserved a particular name. It was fear, even if he would not admit that to himself. Instead, he told himself not to start brooding at this point, but to focus on making sure the others did not get any closer to him. He had no idea how long he had been fleeing before them, but it had not escaped his notice how hard they had to struggle to keep up with him.
Every time he got the impression they had come closer; his heart began to race and he sweated more than he could explain with his exertions. Time after time, he was overcome by the urge to stop and take a deep breath, but so far he had managed not to act on this impulse. He was only too aware that his lead was not large enough to be able to take a break, but also that he might not be capable of picking himself up to keep on running. For this reason, he continued to dash through the forest as if it was the devil after him, although the truth did not look much better. At least in his opinion. This - and the certainty of what the three would do to him if he fell into their hands - made it possible for him to overcome his exhaustion again and again.
Nevertheless, he began more and more to feel like the game during a hunt and he did not like that one bit. After all, he was a man and not some beast that could simply be slain.
Although he had focused most of his attention on his pursuers, after a while he became aware that something strange was going on. At first he had dismissed it as a figment of his imagination, but little by little he could not - and would not - deny that the forest seemed to be aiding him in his escape. At least he had no other explanation for the fact that he kept finding - always at the very last moment - hidden paths that, on other days, he would probably have passed by without noticing them. The same was true of small, well-hidden streams, but also of openings in thorny hedges that only a moment ago had seemed impassable. This provided him repeatedly with the opportunity to get a little further away from the other men, even if that was only due to the fact that they did not seem to be able to spot these passages, despite him having only moments before imagined that he could already feel the breath of the three men on the back of his neck.
Even though he had firmly resolved not to waste any strength on brooding, there was still something to which his thoughts kept returning, and that was Loxley. More specifically, it was the hours during which the first Son of Herne had been chased through the woods by the Sheriff. He could not help wondering if the other man had felt the same way he was feeling right now. Whether he, too, had felt like a beast being chased by hunters. And whether he, too, had had to fight against hopelessness and fear. Never before had he thought about how the other one might have fared before he made his last stand. Now he seemed unable to think about anything else.
But that was not quite true, for of course his own situation also occupied him as well. Although his pursuers did not have any hounds at their disposal, he gradually became convinced that in the end there would be no escape for him either. Loxley had finally been stopped on a hill and he caught himself more and more often pondering where he should wait for his pursuers. When he recognized this finally, it was immediately obvious to him that this was all he had left, for he no longer had the strength to flee much longer through the forest.
Strangely enough, this was also the point at which he realized that he had left hopelessness and fear behind. He had become aware that even the support of the forest would not save him from being overtaken by the others. All that remained was for him to choose the site where he wanted to await the men. He did not consider this as giving up, he just wanted to avoid being massacred amidst the bushes and trees. He wanted to be the one to face the others, so they could not ambush him all of a sudden and kill him without him having drawn his weapon. He also knew that in the end this was not going to make any difference, but just as Loxley had chosen the hill, he too wanted to die in a place of his own choosing. If he could not escape his fate, he certainly did not want to appear a coward in his final moments.
The forest appeared to him as if it had no end, so he was quite taken aback when he dashed between two trees and suddenly found himself in a glade. When he lifted his eyes and looked into the cloudless sky, he realized how long he had seen only branches and leaves overhead. Then he looked ahead and again was surprised to see in front of him the remains of one of those ancient stone circles. Even though there were several of these in the area, he was not familiar with this one. But that did not bother him, for he immediately understood that he had found the spot where he wanted to stop running from his pursuers. This was the right place to wait for his death. Even though this circle did not come close to the larger ones like Rhiannon's Wheel or the Nine Maidens, it exuded the same sense of age and venerability as those. And just like those, it also gave him the creeps. He knew at once that he could accept the inevitability of his death in this place.
He made his way to the center of the circle where he stopped and looked in the direction from which his pursuers would arrive. He unsheathed his sword. The blade was the only weapon he bore - apart from his dagger - and it conveyed a sense of security holding it in his hand, even if he assumed he would not be able to use it. The others would not miss the opportunity to shoot him as soon as they got the chance. He could only hope that their aim was good and that his end would not be long. As he waited - seemingly unaffected - the tip of his sword dug lightly into the forest floor, even though he was not so exhausted that he could not have simply held the weapon in his hand. But he did not want to. He had not stopped running in order to fight here, but to die.
He did not have to wait too long before the three men broke through the undergrowth - obviously they had not discovered the path he had been following - and thus also found themselves in the open space of the glade. Of course, it did not escape their notice that he was waiting for them in the center of the stone circle, and two of the three raised their weapons and took aim at him.
Now it could only take a few moments before this hunt came to an end. Had it been the same for Loxley? Had he also only hoped at the end that it would be over quickly. Had he also pinned his hopes on the fact that the Sheriff's soldiers were good shots. He realized that he did not like the idea that Loxley had suffered, for that was something he had not deserved. Moreover, should he himself be lucky, he would not have to suffer for long either. If he interpreted the expression on his pursuers' faces correctly, there was no doubt in his mind that they wanted him dead. Here and now. Then this agony would finally come to an end.
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When Robin opened his eyes, he was very surprised to see the worried face of Marion hovering above him, with Tuck and Much just being visible behind her.
"What happened?" he demanded to know from her, for at that very moment he could not remember what had occurred.
But before she was able to reply, he knew what had happened. Again he remembered the encounter with the soldiers. Moreover, the pain in his head told him that he had probably been struck down.
He straightened up with difficulty to have a look around, but there was nothing to be seen of the rest of his friends.
"Where are Will, John, and Nasir," he inquired accordingly, but the only response was a helpless twitch of a shoulder.
Then, he realized that this was not true, for the woods responded to him as well, but in a manner that was hidden from the others. Nevertheless, he could not ignore what he was told. It was of such importance that he did not even want to reflect on what had happened to him, for he had also learned that he had to hurry.
"I know where they are." He rose with some difficulty, paying no attention to Tuck's and Much's astonished expressions, yet he could not ignore Marion's heightened concern. She probably felt he still needed to be careful, but he was unable to pay any attention to that.
"We have to be going if we don't want to be late," he informed them, pausing briefly as his body protested that he was moving. But he had no time to listen to it. There was something he had to do and he could not let anyone stop him. Not even himself.
"Where do we have to go?" asked Much. He was always the one to raise such questions, not just simply because there was so much he did not understand - which did not imply that he was an idiot - rather because he was the one who was always the first to trust Robin when, once again, he gave in to his intuitions without being able to explain to the rest of them where his knowledge stemmed from. This had not been surprising, of course, when it was his brother who led the outlaws as Robin Hood, but it was no different with the Earl's son. To his amazement. There was only one other person who equaled the young man in this respect, and that was Nasir, but he was not inclined to ask questions. Nor was there any need to, as long as Much was around.
"I don't know yet," he replied truthfully, "but Sherwood will guide me. I do know, however, that we have to go right now."
He glanced at the trees and knew at once where to head. In his mind's eye he could see the first part of the route his friends had taken after they had fled, and he also knew how he could get there. But he was not going to do that, for that would not have done him any good. Instead, he had to focus on their destination, which was also known to him, although they had not yet arrived there. He just had to avoid the temptation to start worrying about how he could already know all of this, for then it could happen to him that everything would suddenly fade from his mind. That had happened a few times before he had learned to rely on his intuitions. This time he could not allow himself to do that, for then it would be his fault if someone lost his life.
Without checking to see if the rest would follow him, he entered the woods as well. He had to count on the fact that the others would follow immediately after him. He was sure, however, that on this day they would stay by his side as well, even if he was of the opinion that he would not need them. But it would not bother him if he was wrong about that. It still remained his responsibility to save a life. He just had to arrive in time.
Although it caused him some problems, he forced himself to maintain a certain pace while moving towards the destination, which he knew how to get to, but not where it was or what he would encounter there. This was also due to the fact that this part of the woods was unknown to him. This, however, seemed more than odd to him, for he had believed that by now he had become acquainted with all parts of Sherwood. Yet he was probably mistaken in that. He wondered what kind of location he was heading to.
But he also wondered if the woods would guide someone to this mysterious site. Would it be sufficient to be an innocent victim of persecution? Should there really be a refuge in Sherwood? But was that even a question he should concern himself with right now? Probably not, he told himself and tried to push these thoughts aside.
But he was not successful, for now he had to remind himself that it could not be true regarding the refuge. If indeed this would be a place where one was secure, then he would not be on the move now and would not have to rush to the rescue. Besides, then Loxley would not have had to die on that bloody hill, if there actually had been any other option. And Herne would not have had to call another son to him. Then his own life would not have been so radically changed and his father would not have had to disinherit and disown him.
However, the only thing Robin regretted about the whole situation was Loxley's death. Moreover, he was very certain that Sherwood - not Herne - would have prevented it if there had been a chance. Certainly the first Son of Herne had not deserved such an end. But the fact that he was no more meant that there had been no other option. He was aware that there were matters - events - that could not be avoided. But what might happen today was not among those incidents, so he could not slacken in his efforts.
"Do you know where we have to go, Robin?" Much had been the first to inquire, so now the rest thought they were allowed to pose questions as well. The leader of the outlaws could only wonder about the fact that his friends sometimes acted as if he would not allow them to do so at any time. Just as they also sometimes gave the impression that he would not allow them to express their opinions. Had Loxley also felt this separation between Herne's Son and his followers? Or was he having this problem due to the fact that he was from a completely different social environment than the other one? He refused to believe that, but there were repeatedly situations in which he got this impression. Just like now.
"I know we're on the right track," he replied. "And that we're not too late."
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But when they finally reached their destination, he was astonished to see the man who had been chased standing calmly in the middle of a stone circle. Robin could hardly believe this, for the men who had obviously been hunting him through the woods were already there, threatening him with their weapons. This was not what Hood had expected. Instead, he had anticipated vicious insults and abusive language, and he had been prepared for the other man in this manner trying to get his pursuers to attack him without them giving it a second thought. Instead, the man stood still in the midst of the boulders, the tip of his sword dug in the ground, his face so calm that Herne's Son was terrified. The only reason he could imagine for such behavior was the likelihood that the other man had already resigned himself to death. He did not want to consider that, though.
But then one of the pursuers, sword raised, went on the attack, while the man whose life Hood had come to save did not stir even at that particular moment.
At that instant, Robin realized that it was time for him to intervene or he would no longer have a chance to rectify this situation without blood being spilled.
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"Will!"
In that shout there could be heard a great deal of desperation.
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Will Scarlet was totally focused on what he was about to do, so he cringed quite a bit when he heard Robin's voice out of nowhere like that. But his reaction was also due to the fact that he knew very well that tone of voice, in which his name had been called, and he did not like it. For it meant - at least in his opinion - that the Earl's son had gained the upper hand over Herne's Son. Now he would once again prove to the rank and file that he was better than they were. It was the very tone of voice that made Scarlet resist with everything he could muster against what Robin was asking for. No matter what it might have been.
"Will," Robin's voice rang out a second time, but for once he did not just stick to his name. "Don't do that. Don't stoop to that level." This time, however, the tone was different. This time, the other one had managed to let concern linger in his voice. Concern for a friend. And though Will had been just about ready not to listen to Robin in any case, there was no way he could avoid listening to the rest of his words, since he really liked it when the other cared about him, even if he was reluctant to admit it. And he certainly was not able to show it outwardly, but that did not signify that he did not have to respond to it. This was no different with this Son of Herne than it had been with the previous one.
Although he was well aware that Robin had entered the clearing by now, Will did not take his eyes off the man he had hunted through the woods. The fact that the latter had actually managed to elude him for quite some time had only fueled his rage. Now he just wanted to seize the chance to put an end to the entire matter - and that did not only mean today's hunt - once and for all.
For this reason, he had also hoped that no one would be able to track them down so quickly. Will knew that the two men - his friends - who were with him would not intervene, for they had seen the same as he had. But there was no way Herne's Son would allow him to put an end to it, no matter what had occurred. The very fact that he was here now, too - and Will was without any doubt very happy about that - only underlined his view that not much had transpired.
But even before his name had been called, Will himself had had to realize that it was indeed a problem for him to kill a man who made no move to fight back. It would have never occurred to him that it might make a difference in this case, but as it was, it turned out to be himself who was preventing him from bringing the matter to the conclusion he had been dreaming of for years.
Now he could also tell that he was glad about Robin's presence, partly due to the fact that he could now leave the decision to him.
However, as could be expected, the one who had been hunted had to speak up now, as well.
"If you want to kill me, then do it now," he let himself be heard, but still he made no effort to raise his sword. However, Will was well aware that he could not rely on the other man to leave it at that. The former soldier must not forget that his opponent was an excellent swordsman who could not be overcome so quickly. That's why the first thing they had thought of was to shoot him from a safe distance. But that would not have given him the same feeling of accomplishment.
Will still dithered over whether he should overcome his misgivings, so he raised his sword as if he intended to attack after all. Should this go wrong, he was sure that John would support him with his quarterstaff, not to mention Nasir, who had not lowered his bow.
"Will," Herne's Son added at that instant. "Let him go."
"Let 'im go?" Now Will's indignation broke through, and it was not feigned. "'Tis Gisburne!"
In the meantime, Robin had come up beside him. "I actually noticed that, too," he returned with a mischievous smile.
"Gisburne!" emphasized Will one more time. "'e did ..."
But he did not get to finish his sentence for he was interrupted by his friend. "Now I realize what has happened. But you are mistaken, Will, for Gisburne was not the one who attacked me."
For a moment, Scarlet was unable to utter anything, yet that did not seem to surprise his leader. But that was no wonder, for he knew him too well.
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As so often in the past, Sir Guy was not sure whether to regard Hood's abrupt appearance as good or bad. On the one hand, he could now be fairly sure that he would not find death here on this day, but on the other hand, he did not like the fact that he had to rely on this man's intervention again and again to escape the outlaws.
He was thoroughly sick of the whole affair, including the realization that there was obviously no way for him to get the better of Hood and his gang. So much had been tried - and not only by him - but in the end it was always the outlaws who won the day.
Of course, this was true only if one ignored Loxley's death, but - inexplicably - this was the one incident that the knight would like to undo. Of course, that option was not available to him. But what he had gone through today - being hunted through the forest without a way to escape pursuit - only strengthened his foolish wish, even if he did not understand himself in this respect.
But he knew he was tired of having to run from such scum as this Will Scarlet. For this reason, he would have preferred to be able to put an end to the entire affair. Even if this would indeed be permanent for him. Maybe this was still an option.
"If you're going to kill me, do it now!" he tossed at the outlaw, for the other one - who had a moment ago seemed so eager to kill the hunted man - was now suddenly hesitant, as if he were no longer so certain he was doing the right thing.
The knight had hoped that he would be able to kill at least one of them before the Saracen shot him, for the latter had not lowered his bow for a single moment. In addition, the bearded giant was also ready and Sir Guy was well aware that the stout quarterstaff he carried could also be a lethal weapon.
Robin Hood, however, seemed to have quickly put an end to all of this once again, surprising not only his own people but Gisburne as well by pointing out that it had not been the knight who had attacked him. How could he have known that?
Before the knight was aware of it - and could have stopped himself - he had already asked, " How come?" He was immediately annoyed at not having kept his mouth shut, for it was very disgusting to have done so at the very same moment as Scarlet. His only consolation was the knowledge that the other man had not enjoyed it either. At least, his expression imparted this to him.
"I could actually see the attacker," Hood stated in a calm voice.
Only to then address the knight outright for the first time. "Go now! The woods will show you the way!"
His words caused everyone around to stare at him with their mouths open. Gisburne could not exclude himself from this either.
Only to realize rather abruptly that he believed the man. All the time, while he had to flee from Scarlet, he had had the impression that the forest would support him. He just had not wanted to admit it, and even now it was difficult for him to actually believe it. But that did not prevent him from seizing this chance - he could always worry his head later about what had actually happened - for even if he had been convinced only a short time ago that it would be all right for him to die here and now, he did not want to let this opportunity slip by.
Without so much as a glance at any of the rest - especially not at Hood - the knight turned, left the stone circle and disappeared immediately between the trees. It would not do for any of the outlaws to get the idea of opposing their leader. Once Gisburne was gone, they could argue about him as long as they wanted. The important thing was that he did not get to hear any more of it.