Lady Locksley

Chapter 42

The Lymehounds

Much preferred to hunt alone. Although he loved nothing more than a good natter with the other outlaws, and only felt truly at home in Robin's presence, he favoured the silence of a solitary hunt, when he could focus completely on himself without having to worry about anyone else. Because Much was a worrier, especially when it came to Robin, who seemed to attract trouble in large proportions. It could be very stressful. As much as he loved Robin, there were times when it was nice to just step away from the continual drama and concentrate on his own needs and interests - such as, what they would eat that day.
Food would always reign high on Much's list of importances, and he liked to concentrate on preparing a decent meal for his master, and for himself. Unlike Much, Robin could get by on nerves and sheer bravado alone, and would probably do just that if Much wasn't there to look after him.
Much could barely remember a day when he had not been by Robin's side. The only son of a miller
who had traded favourably with Sir Malcolm, Robin's father, Much had been offered work as a servant boy in Locksley Manor at the tender age of twelve. It was always a fortuitous occasion, to find work at a noble's home for one so young, as it opened up a world of opportunities that Much wouldn't normally have experienced as a lowly miller's boy. Within months of diligent service, he had been promoted to personal assistant to Sir Malcolm's young son, Robin of Locksley, a tiny tearaway with a cheeky smile and an adventurous soul. Much took his duties seriously, yet he was in awe of Robin's indomitable spirit and reckless manner. He became Robin's closest ally, accompanying him on many an escapade, which always seemed to end up with Much desperately trying to clear up after his boisterous master. It was fun, yet was also fraught with tension and Much's nerves were in a constant stare of tatters. Robin trusted him, though, and Much, in his turn, adored his master and was extremely protective of him. It was his job, after all.
Well, it wasn't officially his job anymore, since Robin had made Much a freeman on their return from the Holy Land. But he still needed looking after, no matter what he said, and that would be Much's job for as long as Robin required it.
Humming to himself, Much moved from trap to trap, gathering his wares. A rabbit in one, a vole in another. Not the greatest of hauls on that sunny afternoon. It was getting worse by the day, as if the fauna of Sherwood Forest were growing wary of his trap sites. He was mulling over relocating them when he heard the distant sound of dogs baying. Much stopped and listened. It wasn't unusual to hear dogs in the forest; it was, however, unusual to hear them in such great quantity. It sounded like there was a whole pack of mutts, yet he couldn't quite pinpoint which direction the sound was coming from. It was almost as if they were, well, everywhere.
With a growing sense of forboding, Much pushed his way through the bushes, heading back towards the camp, muttering to himself. He was so preoccupied that he didn't notice Allan and Roana until Allan collided with him, approaching at some speed from the north.
Much yelped with shock and outrage. "Allan! What are you doing? You almost knocked me over."
Allan talked over him, his expression frantic. "Much, there's no time for this. The Sheriff's men are in the forest with dogs. We need to get back to camp and warn the gang."
Much looked startled, glancing at Roana and back to Allan. "Looking for us?"
"Looking for the silver, more like it," Allan replied, grimly.
"Where is it?" Roana said.
Much shrugged. "Buried in the forest, as far as I know. Robin hid it after Will was taken."
"Well, as long as it's safe," Roana seemed relieved. "Let's warn the others."
Robin, Will, and Djaq met them as they came up the incline, having already been alerted to the sound of the dogs, which was growing steadily closer.
"What's happening?" Robin said.
"A group of the Sheriff's men with dogs," Allan exclaimed as quickly as possible. "They're looking for something. Or someone."
Robin cursed, his brow furrowed in consternation. He thought for a moment, chewing on a hangnail. "Alright. Allan, John, and Roana, close the camp down. Quick as you can. Much, Djaq, and Will, we need to get the dog's attention away from the camp. Any ideas?"
"Pepper may distract them," Djaq suggested. "I can scatter it around."
Robin nodded. "It's worth a try," he said. "Anything else?"
Much held up his rabbit and Will indicated further down the slope. "There's a dead badger down there. If we open them up and drag the entrails through the forest, the dogs will hopefully follow the scent."
"I hope so." Robin's expression was determined. "Alright. Let's get to it." He looked around at the assembled gang. "Good luck. And if we get separated, meet at Second Chance as soon as you can."