Lady Locksley

Chapter 43

Cornered

"Looks like we've caught ourselves an outlaw, Bracken," the burly man said to his hound, and gave an unpleasant laugh. In response, the huge beast let out another flurry of deep barks, straining at the end of the leash to reach Robin.
Robin eyed the dog, warily. Surrounded on three sides by an impassable wall of thick buckthorn, the only way out was past the salivating mutt, and he didn't fancy his chances. In short, he was trapped, and had no other option but to surrender.
He raised his hands and affected an ingenuous expression. "You've got me. I'm unarmed. You can call your dog off."
"Not until you're tied up, me laddie," the man said, gruffly.
Robin lowered his hands and put them behind his back, turning around. "There you go," he said, over his shoulder. "I'm not putting up a fight."
There was a pause as the man rummaged around and produced a coil of rope. He edged closer to Robin, sharply ordering the hound to hush. The beast fell quiet and sat down on its haunches, patiently, while the man approached Robin and began to roughly tie his wrists together.
"So, what's your story then, lad? How'd a young lad like you become an outlaw?" The man spoke quietly and quickly as he worked at the knots, and Robin realised that he was nervous. "What 'ave you done?"
Robin shrugged, keeping his own voice low. "I don't agree with the way the Sheriff runs Nottingham. He has ruined my home town, taken my land and title. I stood against him, so he outlawed me."
The man paused for a moment, then carried on, pulling the knots tightly before grabbing Robin by the shoulder and turning him around. He looked Robin in the face, his expression curious. "You're a noble?"
Robin nodded, meeting the man's gaze. "I was. My name is Robin Hood, formerly Robin of Locksley, Earl of Huntingdon. The Sheriff's evil regime has forced me to give up my home and live in the forest, fighting against his and Prince John's plans to kill the king."
The man looked genuinely shocked. "Robin of Locksley? Sir Malcolm's son?"
"Yes," Robin was surprised. "You knew my father?"
The man's craggy face had broken into a smile. "Of course, of course. I knew yer father well. We hunted together regularly. I was sorry to hear when he passed." He looked at Robin with growing respect. "You're the young earl?"
Robin returned his smile. "I was the young earl. No longer so young, no longer an earl. But that used to be me."
The man's expression grew solemn again. "Why does the Sheriff want you so badly?"
Robin edged closer as if taking the man into his confidence, which he supposed he was. "I stole silver from him that was destined to pay the Black Knights to ultimately assassinate King Richard. He wants it back."
The man looked angry. "Not on my watch." He whipped a dagger out of his waistband. Robin started and tried to move away, but relaxed when the man used it to saw quickly through the rope around Robin's wrists.
"Any son of Sir Malcolm's is a friend o'mine, especially if he is fighting against that whelp, Prince John. You're free to go, Robin Hood."
Robin couldn't believe his luck, but had no time to hang around. More dogs were approaching, and the man's hound was growing restless. "My friend, I thank you. Tell me your name so I can reward you one day."
"No need for that, milord." The man held out his hand, which Robin shook, robustly. "The name's Udolf of Chester, and I owed yer dad a favour. My debt has been repaid in his absence. Now, off with yer before the guards are upon us."
With a final smile, Robin took off, past the huge hound who continued to sit, patiently, waiting for orders. Dodging through the gap in the buckthorn, thinking only of a safe journey back to camp, he almost ran straight into Gisborne, who was stood beside the Sheriff in his path. Gisborne gave an evil smirk and drew his sword with relish, pointing it in Robin's face.
"Ah, Hood." Vaisey's gap-toothed grin was wide and self-satisfied. "Fancy seeing you here."

                                          ******

The camp was in full lockdown when Will and Much returned with a faint rustle of leaves, slipping silently into the living area. Much's expression was mutinous; Will gave a pleased grin as Djaq hurried over to embrace him, worry quiet on her face. Robin's absence was conspicuous, and Roana, Allan, and Little John quickly joined them.
"Where's Robin?" Roana said.
Much looked at her, struggling to contain his outrage. "He ran off."
"What?" Allan said with an incredulous laugh. "I'm not being funny but couldn't you keep up with him?"
"He told us to come back to camp while he lead the dogs off towards Clun," Will explained while Much glared at Allan. "You know what he's like, going off on his own. Trying to save the world single-handedly."
"It's irresponsible," Much said, sounding upset. "Anything could happen. I mean, he could have been caught and we wouldn't know about it."
Roana turned away, thinking. The hounds had passed by the camp with only the briefest of pauses, and their baying had already receded into the distance, heading away from the camp in the direction of Clun. She reckoned it was safe to leave, if she was quiet.
Making up her mind, she grabbed her bow and arrows and headed towards the camp entrance, shrugging the quiver onto her back. "I'll look for him."
"Whoa, whoa! Wait a minute!" Allan crossed to intercept her, placing his hand on her forearm. "Ro, you aren't going anywhere. It isn't safe."
"The dogs have gone." Roana pointed her finger upwards, indicating the absence of noise in the immediate vicinity. "I'll be fine. He might need help."
"But it might be a trap," Allan replied. "They could be waiting right outside."
"There was no one outside when we came back just then," Will said, matter-of-factly, and Allan shot him a glare. "Oops."
"See," Roana said. "There's no one around. They've followed the trail out towards Clun, so it should be safe enough to have a look around."
Allan raised his hands in exasperation and looked at Little John, imploringly.
"Roana," John attempted, his tone calm. "I think you should wait for a short while. It might not be safe to go out on your own."
Roana paused to look at him, and then at the other members of the gang, one-by-one. "Come with me, then," she said with a shrug. "He's my brother and I'm not just leaving him out there on his own. He might need us."
She vanished through the small gap in the surrounding bushes, and Little John glanced at Allan with a wry smile.
"She's a firebrand," he commented, appreciatively.
"I know," Allan replied with an admiring smile, staring after her.
Will and Djaq stopped beside them, looking from John to Allan and back again, questioningly. "Are we going with her then?" Will said.
"Oh, Christ. Yeah." Allan grabbed his own bow and hurried after Roana.
Following the tracks left by the hounds and the group of men with them, Roana kept to the thickets of vegetation, moving as silently as she could through the foliage. There was no one around, yet the baying was like a residual echo in her ears. The dogs, however, had quietened.
She paused, planning her next move, and Allan appeared by her side, slinking through the bushes followed by the rest of the gang. "Wait up, Ro," he grinned. She smiled back, gratefully, indicating that they all hunker down to discuss their next move, keeping out of sight of any stragglers from the group of hunters.
"Any sign?" Djaq whispered.
Roana shook her head. "Nothing. No dogs, either. It's as if the hunt has ended."
Much looked worried. "He's been caught. I knew it. I knew we shouldn't have left him." He glared at Will, accusingly.
"Much, he told us to leave him," Will argued.
Little John silenced them with a soft thud of his staff on the leaf-mulched ground and a hard stare. Much's expression was sullen as he turned back to Roana.
"Where did you last see him?" She asked him. Much gestured in the direction they were heading and began to move off, taking the lead.
"We should split up," Djaq suggested, and Roana nodded in agreement.
"Good idea. I'll go with Much. Keep close but fan out."
They moved out in groups of two, weapons drawn and eyes peeled. Roana's heart was racing but she kept her growing concern hidden as she followed Much. She knew how fretful he was, and didn't want to exaberate it in any way. They both needed a clear head if they were to be of any use to her brother. And she feared that Robin did need their help.
There was a nauseating smell in the humid air, and, when they passed a pile of entrails alive with buzzing flies, she realised that this was the exact trail Robin had initially taken. She kept her eyes peeled for clues in the undergrowth, but wasn't sure what she should be looking for. Much was pushing through the bushes swiftly just ahead of her, and came to a halt so abruptly that she nearly bumped into him. He put a hand out to stop her, placing a finger to his lips. They both crouched down and he gently parted branches so they could view the events unfolding before them.
Robin had been caught, and was being held firmly in the grasp of three guards, his hands tied at the wrists with rope. Gisborne and the Sheriff watched over the proceedings, looking extremely pleased with themselves. Beyond them, a clutch of men held the subdued hounds, while a small group of guards stood beside them.
"Take him to the castle," the Sheriff could be heard saying. "I can feel a hanging coming on in the morning. Robin Hood, dangling from my gallows, at long last."
As Robin was dragged away, Roana and Much looked at each other, aghast, and Much put his hand to the hilt of his sword. Roana placed her hand over his, halting him, and gave a subtle shake of her head. They would be signing their own death warrant if they attacked now. There were at least fifteen guards, plus Gisborne, as well as a pack of unpredictable hounds with their rough-looking handlers. They were outnumbered. They needed a plan instead.
Retracing their steps in disheartened silence, they met up with the others on the route back to camp. Allan crossed straight to Roana and put a comforting hand on the small of her back, stroking it in circles. Roana leaned into him, gratefully. She felt both anxious and helpless, and her feelings were mirrored in Much's expression.
"What do we do now?" Will said.
They all exchanged glances, unsure without Robin's guidance, until Little John took control, slamming the ground with his quarterstaff.
"We go to Nottingham," he said, firmly.