by N B Dixon
“Be brave, my children. Pray to the Lord for guidance. He will not desert you.” The soldier holding her clubbed her on the side of the head with the hilt of his sword, and she crumpled.
Ursula screamed and Marian glared at the man. “There was no need for that, you horson. She might be dead for all you know.”
“One less do-gooder in the world. My heart bleeds.”
Marian and Ursula were led to two waiting horses. The soldier holding Marian lifted her off her feet and slammed her face down onto the horse’s back. More ropes secured her in place. She tried to raise her head, but the soldier seized the end of her braid, forcing it down again. Her face was mashed into the horse’s flank. The soldier mounted behind her, one hand holding her in place, pressing her down so hard it was difficult to breathe. At a signal, the soldiers set off at a trot. Marian bounced up and down, pain shooting through her neck and shoulders. She thought she could hear Ursula sobbing, and gritted her teeth. She would not cry. She would not.
Once at Nottingham Castle, she and Ursula were taken to the dungeons. The ropes binding them were cut, but Marian barely had time to enjoy the relief, before heavy manacles were snapped onto her wrists, and another secured to her ankle and fastened to an iron ring in the wall. Ursula was chained opposite her. There was enough play in the chains for them to lie, sit or stand, but that was all. Then, without a word of explanation, the soldiers left.
“Are you all right?” Marian asked.
Ursula managed a single nod. “What do you think will happen, My Lady?”
“I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough.”
***
It was several hours later when Marian heard footsteps. The door to their cell was unlocked, and Guy of Gisborne stepped in. He gave Ursula a cursory glance, and then his gaze settled on Marian. She stared back at him, pouring all of her loathing and disgust into her gaze.
He smiled. “You have spirit, Marian, I’ll give you that. Most women would have been sobbing in despair. You must be wondering why you are here.”
“It is something of a mystery. After all, you have my lands. What more could you possibly want from me?”
“Why, an heir, of course. And who better to be his mother than one of the Huntingdon bloodline? I admit, I would rather not have touched anything tainted by Robin of Locksley, but sacrifices must be endured.”
Marian smiled sweetly. “Jealous, Guy?”
Guy backhanded her across the face. Unable to keep her balance, Marian fell sideways, sprawling in the filthy straw covering the cell floor.
Ursula cried out and instinctively tried to go to Marian’s aid, but the chain around her ankle prevented her.
Marian sat up, her head ringing. “Only a coward would strike a defenceless woman.”
“You will have plenty of time to refine your opinion of me, My Lady. You will remain here a few days before being transported to London.”
“Why? Even you can’t hold someone prisoner for no reason.”
“You haven’t heard? King Richard is on his way back to England. Since we can’t risk you two meeting, you must be kept safe until he has been dealt with. Don’t worry, you will be treated well enough. Prince John will see to it. Once John is king, your wardship will revert to him. Then we will be married.”
Chuckling, he slammed and locked the cell door behind him.
“What happens now, My Lady?” Ursula whispered.
Marian strained against her chains in impotent fury. The side of her face throbbed where Guy had struck her, but his words hurt far more.
“I don’t know, Ursula. I just don’t know.”
Chapter 24
Will grinned across at Robin. “So, how does it feel to be doing this again?”
“I’ll let you know if anyone actually comes along.”
“We’ve been here five minutes. Have patience.”
Robin grimaced. It felt as though he had been doing nothing but waiting for the past three months, first for his strength to return and then for his shoulder to fully heal. The only good thing was that Gisborne, confident Robin was dead, had not sent too many patrols into Sherwood. A few attempts had been made to seek out the rest of the outlaws, but when those proved fruitless, and when no new robberies took place, Gisborne had apparently decided it was a waste of his resources.
Those months had not been idle. All of them had trained daily. John, thanks to a contact of his, had acquired three short swords, which he had insisted on training Jane, Lara and Daphne to use. They were now proficient with both sword and bow. Alan, too, was becoming better at handling a blade. The outlaws had built up quite a cache of weapons from the soldiers they had robbed and killed. Edward, though, had improved the most. Furious at the loss of Locksley and his parents, and at David’s betrayal, he had thrown himself into training with an abandon that was a little disturbing. There was no weapon he could not use with some skill, though his favourite was still the longbow. Much, too, was improving all the time.
Tuck trained them all in the healing arts: how to recognise good herbs from dangerous ones, and which plants cured which ailment. They were now all expert hunters and trackers. There was no truer band of followers in England. They were Robin’s brothers and sisters in arms, and he would die for any one of them, as he knew they would for him. His near-death had bonded them even closer. When they finally showed themselves to the world at large, they would be a force to be reckoned with.
It was true that the outlaws had carried out no major robberies. They had restricted themselves to lone travellers who unwittingly strayed across their path. When Robin announced that he was actually still in the land of the living, he wanted to do it on his own terms. However, necessity had changed his mind. The winter had been particularly harsh, and Prince John was still bleeding the people of England dry with ever heavier taxes. The time for lurking undercover was over.
Robin’s forced seclusion had done more than allow him to heal physically. Things were greatly improved between him and Will. Neither of them mentioned David or Marian, or what had taken place on Crusade, but they were a long way towards resuming the easy friendship they had always known. From certain looks Will gave him, Robin knew Will’s feelings for him had not changed. He did not quite know what he was waiting for, but the time didn’t feel right yet to tell Will how he felt.
A bird call shattered the peaceful silence of the forest, and Robin breathed a sigh of relief. Finally! Judging from where the call had come from, Edward had seen something. Robin fitted an arrow to his bow. He could imagine Much and Edward doing the same, while Alan, Will and John’s hands dropped to staff, sword and axe. None of them were archers unless by necessity. Tuck and the women were also close, weapons ready.
A feeling of anticipation gripped Robin. It had been too long—far too long.
The sound of cartwheels drew his attention to the road. Two carts came into view, flanked by a unit of Gisborne’s soldiers. Robin’s eyes narrowed and his hand tightened on his bow. These were prison carts. Each held a metal cage in which the prisoners had been crammed. As they drew closer, Robin craned his neck to try to see who the victims were. He drew in a startled breath. On the smaller cart, two women sat pressed together inside their cage—Marian and Ursula. Beside Robin, Will cursed.
“How did Gisborne manage to arrest them without us hearing about it?”
“That doesn’t matter.” Robin’s eyes turned to the larger cart. Again, with a shock of recognition, he saw Lewis d’Ambray, Henry Runeville and Roland DeVere, all squashed side by side into their prison, staring forward with identical stony expressions.
“Prince John has taken to trapping nobles now?” John breathed.
For answer, Robin raised his bow and fired. Even before the first arrow had landed, he nocked a second. Both arrows struck the ground in front of the two carts, causing the drivers to pull up with loud curses and the soldiers’ hands to leap to their weapons. Robin stepped out of cover, Will at his back. John and Alan emerged as silent as ghosts and
took up flanking positions.
Robin felt a grin tugging at his lips. This was like old times. The grin faded as he surveyed the prisoners.
“So, Gisborne has taken to collecting human cargo instead of taxes for Prince John?”
At the sound of Robin’s voice, all five prisoners turned their heads to stare at him. He saw Marian’s face light up.
The lead soldier was gazing at him as though he had seen a ghost.
“You…you are dead.”
“Am I?” Robin fired a third arrow. It whistled past the soldier’s ear and out of sight. The man stumbled back into one of his comrades before realising he was not, in fact, hurt.
“Does that seem like the act of a dead man? I never heard of a spirit who was able to grip solid objects.”
“You have no right to detain us,” the lead soldier said, recovering himself. “This is royal business. There is nothing for you here.”
“Ah, you see, that’s where you are wrong. These prisoners are friends of mine, and I would like to know why they are in cages?”
“The men are accused of treason.”
“Defying Prince John is not treason. What of the women?”
“I am not here to hold a conversation with a thief. Stand aside, or you will be struck down.”
Robin sighed and drew his sword. “Very well. If you won’t be civilised…” He made a sign with his free hand.
A volley of arrows flew from the surrounding trees. Two men fell, and both cart horses collapsed with agonised screams.
As if moved by a common spring, outlaws and soldiers attacked. The lead soldier lunged at Robin, and their blades met with a ringing clash of steel. Edward and Much fired arrows at the horses, causing them to rear and try to bolt. This only added to the chaos of the fight. Two more soldiers fell—one from a blow to the head by John’s axe, the other stabbed through the heart by Will.
Daphne and Tuck both emerged, sword and staff swinging. Within seconds, another couple of soldiers were dispatched. Jane and Lara released the prisoners. Lara tried to shepherd Marian and Ursula into the trees, but Marian would not go. She snatched up one of the soldier’s dropped swords. It was much too heavy for her, but she brandished it threateningly. Jane and Alan fought close to her, warding the unarmed Ursula, while Lewis, Henry and Roland also armed themselves from the fallen and joined the fight.
Robin parried his opponent’s thrusts easily, rejoicing in the ability to be able to use his body again. He got in under the soldier’s guard and plunged his blade into the man’s chest. As the soldier collapsed, Robin sensed rather than saw another stealing up behind him. He whirled, his blade locking with the sword that had been swinging for his head. After a rapid exchange of blows, Robin dispatched his second man and turned to see a third soldier busily loading his crossbow. Before he could do anything, a blow from Tuck’s staff laid him out. Alan collapsed then, and Tuck rushed to take his place.
John stumbled, blood streaming down his arm. Before the soldier who had wounded him could go in for the kill, Daphne was there, red hair flying, eyes blazing. Her sword flashed out, quick as lightning, and the man died, a look of shock on his face.
Edward and Much loosed their last arrows and broke from cover. There was one man left standing. Will had him at sword-point. Robin walked over, sheathing his own weapon.
The man held up his empty hands. “Please, have mercy, sir. I’m not a soldier. I was only doing what I was told.”
Robin stared at him coldly for several seconds as the man cringed and whimpered. He made a sign to Will, who lowered his sword.
“Start walking,” Robin said.
Will gave the man a shove in the back with the hilt of his sword to help him on his way. “He’ll go straight to Gisborne.”
“Let him.” Robin gazed around at the carnage. Gisborne’s soldiers littered the roadside while frightened horses milled about. “It’s time Gisborne knew I’m still here. I only wish I could see the look on his face when he hears the news.” He looked over his own people anxiously. “Is anyone hurt? Alan?”
“I’m all right.” Alan had managed to get to his feet, leaning on Jane for support. He had taken a blow to the head, but at least he was upright.
John was pressing a hand to his wounded arm. Daphne produced a strip of cloth from her belt and wrapped it tightly around the wound. John grimaced, but the injury did not appear to be too serious.
“Let’s get out of here,” Will suggested.
***
“So, how about you tell us why Gisborne and Prince John wanted your heads?” Will grinned across at each of the three lords in turn. They were sitting in a circle around a hastily built campfire. Marian had stationed herself on the other side of Robin from Will, while Ursula was holding back, perhaps afraid Robin would kill her for her brother’s treachery.
“Prince John is planning rebellion,” Lewis d’Ambray said around a mouthful of venison. “King Richard is on his way back to England and the prince knows this is his last chance to seize the throne.”
“The king is free?” Will asked, incredulous. “What about the ransom?”
“Half paid and the rest promised.”
“Henry of Germany must know he will never receive the rest,” Robin said.
Henry Runeville accepted a mug of ale from Jane. “John cannot afford for Richard to return and discover everything he has been up to in his absence. He will take him down if he can. All those who are loyal to Richard were travelling to Dover to meet him. We were supposed to go as well, but somehow, Gisborne got wind of our plan and sent soldiers to arrest us.”
“How?” Daphne demanded.
“There must have been a spy among my servants,” Lewis said grimly. “Whoever it was told Gisborne that we were meeting at my manor. His soldiers took us completely by surprise. We fought valiantly, but there were too many of them. I lost several good men.”
“John’s plan was to have you executed so you couldn’t warn his brother?” Alan finished.
“That about sums it up,” Roland said.
“What of you, Lady Marian?” Jane asked. “Why were you a captive?”
“Gisborne was sending me to London. Once John was king, Gisborne planned to make me his wife.”
Robin glanced across at her. There was a yellowing bruise on one side of her face, but otherwise, she looked well.
She’d shown courage, if not skill when she’d grabbed that sword. Though he called himself a coward for thinking it, a part of him wished she wasn’t among them. He owed her an apology, but how he was going to explain his actions, he did not know.
Will was also regarding Marian as though she were something dangerous that might strike at any moment. Robin had no idea what that was about.
“What of you, Locksley?” Henry Runeville’s voice broke in on Robin’s thoughts. “We all heard you were dead.”
“That was what we wanted Gisborne to think. I was wounded in an ambush, but I survived by the grace of God, or my stubborn friends. One or the other. They staged a funeral, knocked me out with poppy syrup and allowed Gisborne to see my body. It was then a question of biding my time and lying low until I was properly healed.”
“Gisborne will be livid when he learns you are still alive.” Roland did not try to hide his glee. “He’s been boasting far and wide that it was thanks to him you were killed. He made sure Prince John knew it as well.”
“Gisborne is not our biggest concern,” Tuck said. “We need to worry about John’s rebellion.”
“Come with us, Robin,” Lewis pleaded. “You and all your men would be invaluable. You have fought on Crusade. I’m sure the king’s supporters would welcome you. No doubt the Lionheart would reward you once he is back on his throne.”
“No doubt.” Robin did not try to keep the bitter irony out of his voice. “I believe we’ve had this conversation before, though I must say, the chance to see Gisborne get what he deserves is hard to pass up.”
“What of us?” Daphne demanded.
Rol
and made an impatient sound, his eyes lingering on each woman in turn, and finally on Much and Edward.
“This is no place for women and boys, or cripples. I’m sorry.”
“Every person here has proved their skill and courage many times over,” Robin said evenly. “They have suffered as much as you.”
Edward was glaring at Roland as if he wished for a sword in his hand. “Your village was not destroyed and your family slaughtered in front of you. None of us asked for this. We do what we must to survive.”
“My friend meant no offence,” Lewis said with a quelling look at Roland.
Marian spoke, cutting short the argument. “What of me?”
Robin met her challenging gaze. “We will find somewhere for you and Ursula to hide.”
“I have as much right to fight as these women,” she argued. “I have some skill with a bow. Give me one and I’ll prove it.”
“Not so fast.” Lewis held up his hand. “I do not doubt these women’s valour,” he said diplomatically, “but they would stand out.”
Daphne pointed at the rough tunics and hose she, Jane and Lara wore. “We can disguise ourselves well enough. We may not stand up to close scrutiny, but no one will be paying us any attention. We’re just some of Robin Hood’s men.”
“They are good archers, all of them,” Alan said. “We’ll need them. With their hair tied back and hidden, they’ll do well enough.”
Robin knew what it had cost Alan to admit that. He saw the anguished look he shot at Jane, yet he did not try to talk her out of it.
“That still leaves the Lady Marian,” Lewis protested. “She is a noblewoman.”
There was a silence. Then Will turned to Robin. “I say we give Lady Marian a bow right now and let her show us her skill. If she succeeds, we let her join us. Jane is about her size. Perhaps she has a spare tunic and hose to lend.”
