Robyn Hood: Fight For Freedom (13 page)

BOOK: Robyn Hood: Fight For Freedom
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Before I could properly untangle the white horn, Much burst out of a bush right in front of me. “Robyn! G
ilbert says the Sheriff and his apprentice are in the forest and heading in the direction Will Scarlet left for, but he couldn’t find him—what happened?” Much asked.

“Perfect, your arrival couldn’t be timed any better. Do you have any rope?” I asked.

“There’s some at a supply nook a few trees back. I’ll go get some,” Much trailed off before wandering away, casting puzzled glances over his shoulder.

Meanwhile I tugged the hideously horrible horse pelt off Sir Guy, practically ripping his arms out of the strange sleeves he had fashioned in the hide.

“Who is this?” Much asked when he returned with a length of rope.

“Sir Guy,” I grunted, kicking the large man off the horse tail, pulling the entire pelt free of the knight.

“WHO?” Much squeaked.

“Sir Guy. Would you hurry up and help me tie him? He’s starting to recover,” I hissed.

Much, who was almost as big of a coward as I am, kneeled by my side. “Start with the arms,” Much advised before expertly starting to wrap rope around the fallen knight’s wrists. “Then wrap rope around his torso so his arms are pinned to his side,” Much continued.

Sir Guy made several feeble attempts to wriggle out of the rope, but I kept
a foot on his throat, pinning him to the ground in spite of his fussing while Much tied his legs.

“See, now he can’t stand without losing his balance and falling over,” Much brilliantly said, straightening up.

“Why are you so good at this?” I asked, nudging a glaring, gagged Sir Guy with the toe of my boot.

“Um, er, you see Robyn, the new recruits have to be taught how to escape after being tied up,” Much stammered.

“And they can escape this?” I asked, gesturing to the trussed up Sir Guy.

“Well, not quite, but, umm.”

“Why haven’t we taught this art of escaping to our older Merry Men as well?” I asked, tapping my foot on the ground.

“Ah-hah-hah,” Much laughed, straightening up while scratching at his head. “So, what are you going to do with him?”

“I’m not sure,” I admitted, perfectly aware Much was changing the subject.

“Why don’t you cut off his head?” Much suggested.

“Oh gross,” I shuddered. My lunch rolled uneasily in my stomach. “No, never. I can skin and gut a deer, but kill an actual human? And by lopping off their head? Ew, no, oh, I think I’m going to be sick,” I said, gripping my stomach.

“Wimp,” Much sniffed. “So what do we do with him then?”

“Why don’t you figure it out?” I said, walking over to Sir Guy’s abandoned horse pelt. I picked it up with a grimace. “I can’t believe I’m actually going to put this terrible thing on,” I winced.

“What?” Much asked, shuffling to my side.

I shuddered and got goose bumps on my skin in spite of the warm summer air when I slipped my arms into the sleeves.

“EWWW,” Much reacted. “So you’ll wear a dead horse but you won’t behead a man? Wow Robyn, you have double standards—“

“Don’t talk about it,” I begged as the horse’s muzzle flopped over my face. “If I think about it I’m going to wretch. Here, take my sword and longbow. I’ll have to take Sir Guy’s,” I said, retrieving Sir Guy’s sword. I kept my quiver on my back, hidden beneath the horse pelt.

The knight darkly glared at me and mumbled against his gag
, a rag used to clean bows.

“What are you doing?” Much sighed like a worn out mother as he followed me when I ventured further away to sn
atch up Sir Guy’s bow.


Disguising myself,” I replied, finding an ugly horn that also belonged to Sir Guy. “You said the Sheriff was headed for Will Scarlet, right? I’ll draw him away.”

“Good plan, just one small problem. WHO IS GOING TO DRAW HIM AWAY FROM YOU?” Much bellowed in my face.

“Release Crafty from his pen. When I blow my horn he’ll come for me. I can ride away and easily lose him in Sherwood,” I nonchalantly said, shouldering the quiver. (Really, I was more worried about George than the Sheriff.)

“This is never going to work,” Much huffed.

“Then drag Sir Guy back to camp and send some Merry Men after me. I’m not going to chance calling them to my side with the Sheriff about,” I said, strapping Sir Guy’s sword to my side.

“I just told you Sir Guy can’t stand, how on earth am I supposed to transport him back to camp?” Much crossly asked.

“Carry him like a beast of burden. You
are
an as—,”

“Finish that naughty word Robyn and I’ll string you from the nearest tree by your feet,” Much sniffed.

I sighed. “We’re wasting time. I’ve got to run. Thanks Much!” I called over my shoulder before jogging off through Sherwood, the black horse tail swishing with my movements.

I moved in the direction Will Scarlet had headed for, praying I might be able to catch up with Little John. I did not doubt that Will Scarlet and the slew of Merry Men with him had found the Sheriff. They were most likely hiding and watching the fat aristocrat wander through the forest, crying. I
had confidence in my men. We had learned our lesson when we were attacked in winter, none of the Merry Men would repeat that mistake. Panic hadn’t yet welled up in me because of that.

At least, I tried to tell myself
that I was not frightened beyond all belief as my heart thundered in my throat like a galloping horse.

I reached the peak of a hill
and tried to peer through the numerous trunks that blocked my view. There was a tiny meadow at the bottom of the hill. I blinked and squinted at it, but froze when the situation fully dawned on me.

The fat Sheriff was mounted on a chestnut horse, and his men scurried around him and two trees like mice or swarming ants.
George was there as well. Worse still, Lord Maxine was with him, both of them were mounted on fine looking geldings. And worst yet, tied to the trees were Will Scarlet and Little John.

The Sheriff was laughi
ng and George shouted orders at two soldiers who were standing in front of my men. Under his orders each one of the soldiers raised a sword to Little John and Will Scarlet’s throats.

They swung their arms back, as though preparing to chop their heads off, and I fumbled with my horns. I had a choice to make. A
very dangerous choice. Call for more Merry Men on my horn and hope it would startle and stop the Sheriff and his men, or blow on Sir Guy’s horn and pray it would stop them.

As the soldiers started to swing their blades I made my choice.

I blew one hard, high note on Sir Guy’s ugly brown horn.

The Sheriff turned in his saddle and squinted up at me, spotting me between the
forest undergrowth.

I trotted down the hill, my heart pounding as George called for the soldiers to relax. The soldiers in front of Little John and Will Scarlet sheathed their swords and walked back to their formation.

“Hail Sir Guy,” the Sheriff called. “So you found Robin Hood and killed him?”

“Hah-hrum. Oh yes,” I said, coughing in my effort to lower my voice.
“Robin Hood is dead,” I said, stopping next to the Sheriff’s tired horse.

“LIAR!” Will Scarlet shouted, thrashing in spite of the ropes that held him against the tree trunk he was tied to.

Little John was ghost white and looked like his world was crashing in on him. “It’s over,” he groaned, a noise that started from deep within his soul.

“Did you bring proof?” the Sheriff laughed.

“Yep. His horn,” I quickly replied, slipping it out from underneath the horse pelt. I held it up from the Sheriff to see and stifled the burning desire to pull the already drooping horse muzzle lower over my face. I couldn’t believe I was
this
close to the Sheriff and he hadn’t realized the truth yet!

“You truly are a great knight, even if it
is
in title only,” the Sheriff laughed, making his belly jiggle. He slapped his fat thigh when he caught sight of my white horn.

Will Scarlet, on the other hand, burned. “It’s a fake! It has to be! She would never let you have it!” he shouted. “GO TO BLOODY HELL!” he finished, straining against his bonds.

I hoped the Sheriff hadn’t heard the ‘she’ part.

“He’s quite upset,” I observed, pleasantly surprised that my voice didn’t shake like my quaking legs were. It was just as well I was wearing the horse pelt; with it wrapped around me you couldn’t see an inch of my shuddering body.

I was frightened out of my mind. If the Sheriff got the merest
glance
at my face…


Yes. Hearing the death of his master must be quite the blow, even for an aristocratic blackguard like him. The giant seems to be taking it like an abandoned cur,” the Sheriff said, his squinty eyes landing on Little John.

“Robyn isn’t dead!” Will Scarlet hissed.

The Sheriff rolled his eyes, making George feel that it was necessary to step in.

“For the last time,
he is dead!” the young man shouted.

Will Scarlet shook his head and stared at the ground, his eyes not focusing.

“What will you do with them?” I asked.

“Kill them,” was the Sheriff’s prompt reply. “Now.”

“You won’t take them back and have them killed before Prince John?” I rumbled.

The Sheriff frowned. “I told you before, if we catch any of those squirming vermin known as the Merry Men we were to kill them on sight. Holding them will only lure out hoards more and they’ll slip through our fingers.”

I frowned and tried to consider the best option that would get me and my three men out of the situation, alive. My heart pounded in my throat and I croaked, “Instead of my reward for Robin Hood’s head… let me be the one to kill them.”

The Sheriff stared down at me as though I had taken leave of my senses. “Are you mad? Robin’s death is worth 40 marks!”

“But Robin’s death and the death of his two closest comrades, Little John and Will Scarlet, would be quite an accomplishment,” I said.

The Sheriff stared at me for several quiet seconds before a fiendish grin settled on his lips. “So you still mean to go after Lady Marian then, even after she’s tarnished her reputation by crawling to this wretched forest? Who knows what Robin Hood
has done to her. But even so, with her as your bride you would secure your future livelihood,” the Sheriff said, rubbing his chin. “Yes, I’ll accept your proposal. I’ll take in the 60 marks, and you can claim responsibility for the death of all three men,” he laughed.

“Great,” I tightly replied, stiffly walking away from the Sheriff. George watched me, his eyes following me as I approached my men.

He was starting to wonder. I could tell by the way he tilted his head and stared at me.

Maxine also stared at me, but with complete disinterest, which I found to be curious. Maxine was not often uninterested.

I pulled the horse hide further around my body and stopped several feet away from my trussed up men. Little John was sagging and Will Scarlet was swearing like a sailor.

“You two
far too melodramatic,” I hissed, soft enough that no one else would hear our interchange as I unsheathed my sword.

Little John froze and stared up at me. Will Scarlet was gap mouthed for a second before he had the presence of mind to continue swearing, as though nothing had happened.

“Robyn?” Little John quietly ventured, trying to peer beyond my horse hide hood.

“Shhh,” I hushed. “George is watching. I’m going to cut you two lo
ose and then we have to book it. When we get far enough in the woods I’ll call for more Merry Men on my horn. Today’s the day we settle the score with the Sheriff,” I hissed before drawing back.

“You son of a snake!” Will Scarlet spat at me
for effect.

“Draw your last breath, knave!” I shouted, lifting Sir Guy’s sword over my head. I swung it down, carefully cutting through Will Scarlet’s bindings before repeating the motion with Little John.

The second they were loose all three of us ducked into Sherwood.

“After them!” George shouted. “That was Robin Hood!”

“Was it?” Maxine asked, sounding politely surprised.

“Go, go, go, GO!” Little John shouted, t
earing to the head of our group as soldiers poured into the woods after us.

I nearly tripped and did a face plant when the stupid horse pelt tangled around my legs.

“Robyn come
on
,” Will Scarlet hissed as soldiers crashed after us.

“I’m trying! It’s t
his stupid horse hide,” I grunted before I accidentally stepped on the black horse tail while running. My knees buckled and I was on my way down when Will Scarlet scooped me up.

“Hang on,” he ordered.

I threw an arm over his shoulders but busily ripped my white horn off my belt. I leaned against his shoulder and aimed my horn behind Will so I wouldn’t blow out his ear drums.

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