So I've been playing around for a while with the idea of writing a Robin Hood story- I love the characters and the plot and just the general idea of Robin Hood (not to mention the movies and TV shows). So this is the first chapter, which I wrote quite some time ago so I know it's rough, but I thought I'd put it up and get some feedback for the future!
Five years. Five years since he had last seen this place. Robin pulled his horse to a stop on a hill just overlooking his home. The windows of Locksley Manor glinted in the dying sun, and shadows from Sherwood Forest slid across the field. It looked just as he remembered it. Though five years was a long time..
A smile stole across Robin's face as he urged his horse onward. He would only stop by for a moment, to see his brother. Then, he would go on to the castle. There, there was a face that he hadn't seen in years, that had joined him in his dreams since the night he left.
The trees rustled as he neared the Manor; the very wind seemed to welcome him back. But, it was more than just the wind. It carried voices with it. They caused Robin to quickly turn his horse off the road and into the nearby forest. Only after he reached the trees' shelter did he stop to think about this action, for he had done it out of reflex. It wasn't just the voices. He was eager for company again. No. It was because of the noise that accompanied the voices. The chink of armor. A sound that he had long since learned to avoid.
Robin dismounted quickly and left his horse in the cover of the trees. He stole quickly to the very fringes of the forest, staying in the shadows. A group of six soldiers emerged from around the bend. Four of the band were talking and laughing, meaning their shift was almost over. The two on the edges though, they stayed alert.
"A patrol? What is a patrol doing here?" Robin whispered to himself. His heart thudded. Shaking his head at what was probably his own foolishness, Robin turned back and tied his horse to a tree before following the men. He stayed hidden, afraid to be seen in the place he so longed for. As they reached the Manor, the soldiers halted and became silent for the first time. The door opened.
John. He'll tell me what all this nonsense is about. Though why he needs soldiers... Despite his assurances for himself, Robin stayed low, running behind fences and crates to stay out of sight until he was close enough to hear the exchange. It was not his brother's voice that he heard as he neared however.
"There is no one, sire," one of the men said. "No one at all. Perhaps the journey is taking longer than Richard expected."
"No." This voice was not a soldier. It was commanding, harsh. A voice that had grown used to being obeyed. "The King is not wrong about things such as this. He said that Hood would be here by the fifth day, and today is that day! Now where is he?"
Robin's heart skipped a beat. Him. They were patrolling to find him. He thanked the stars that the past years had given him military instincts. This was not the homecoming he had been imagining.
The soldiers in front of the house had shrunk back as the man's voice had grown louder. Now one of them stepped forward. "It is not likely that we missed him, sire. He would have no reason not to come home by the road, for he does not know that anything has changed. He would journey right up to the house-"
"Not knowing that I now live here. Yes..." The man ran his hand through his dark hair. "Yes I suppose that is true."
The soldier that had spoken stepped back in relief.
The man noticed. "Then simply stand guard!" he barked out. "Stand guard and keep hidden! We do not want Hood alerted until he has had the pleasure of my company."
A couple of the men laughed. The rest bowed hurriedly and murmured "Yes, Gisbon," before the took up their posts.
Luck kept the men from setting up their watch where Robin was hiding. He saw Gisbon look around before going back inside, then he leaned back against the fencing and closed his eyes. He was in trouble, no doubt about it. Gisbon. Yes, he knew the name. When he'd left with Richard, Gisbon was just a young man, following the Sheriff around like a well-trained puppy. Now it seemed he was very much in control. Of the soldiers, and of the Manor.
Whatever had happened to his brother would have to wait. John could take care of himself. Robin had to find out what was going on, now. He couldn't risk getting caught by Gisbon, not after what he had just heard.
Sighing, Robin got to his feet but he stayed crouched down. He looked over the fence and was pleased to see that none of the guards were looking his way. Then he sprinted to the forest. He paused only once when he had again reached the shelter the trees provided, and only then to look back and make sure he hadn't been seen. Robin hurried back to where his horse stood waiting.
Although speed was of the essence, Robin did not take the horse with him. It would be much quicker, and it would also increase his chances of being seen. Robin simply unloaded what he would need from the saddlebags- food, change of clothes, his cloak, his knife (which he strapped to his leg), and, of course, his bow and a quiver of arrows. His bow and quiver he slung onto his back, his cloak he pulled on, and everything else went into his rucksack. Then, he took the saddle and bridle off the horse and untied him. He patted its nose once. Robin then made his way toward the village.
There were guards at the gate, so he stopped and waited until a large group passed, and he joined them. He hunched his shoulders and walked with a limp. With his hood up and the pack looking like lump on his back, Robin easily passed as an old villager on his way home from the fields. He wasn't given so much as a second glance by the guards or by the tired group he had joined.
Once inside, Robin straightened up and made his way through the streets and alleys. The door he stopped in front of had a single lantern in the window, and sound of someone sharpening a knife could be heard. Robin knocked, and the sound abruptly stopped.
A face appeared in the window, looking suspiciously at Robin hidden face and cloak. Then the face disappeared and a voice from inside said, "Take off the hood and state your name and business."
"You know me," Robin answered. "You know me well, and I dare not take the hood off for fear of being recognized. As for business-"
Before he even finished speaking, the door was flung open. Robin smiled at the man who opened it, who looked for all the world like his birthday had come early. He was ushered inside. The moment the door was closed, Robin stumbled back a few paces from the force of the hug Much gave him. Robin hugged him back, then the men stood there, looking at each other for the first time in three years.
"Robin!" Much didn't raise his voice over a whisper. "You're here!... How'd you get here? I heard the soldiers talking. Guy thought he was going to have you for sure. I don't understand, how'd you know to avoid him? Why didn't you go home?"
This was all said so fast that Robin laughed. "Much, slow down! I'm fine. Absolutely fine. If Gisbon's soldiers hadn't been so loud he would have had me. I was lucky. Now what's going on? I heard the men talking, but I know only that Gisbon has Locksley Manor. Is Guy in control now? Why isn't he living up at the castle?"
"It's bad Robin. Real bad. The Sheriff's taken over, Guy's his right-hand man." Much's face, which had just been so joyful, was suddenly serious.
Robin was baffled. "The Sheriff? But... how?"
"No one really knows. One minute things were running smoothly under Marian's father- you know he was supposed to keep the peace while Richard is away? Well, the next minute, our Sheriff has him thrown in the dungeon for some phony crime and he has taken sole control of the affairs around here. The power changed hands almost overnight, and no one can do anything about it.
"We all know that you told the King not to appoint two Sheriffs, that it could only end badly, and, well, it did. Marian's father is still in the dungeon. There are some anti-Sheriff groups, though not many, and they aren't very effective. Next thing you know, we here you're coming back, and the Sheriff has a fit and orders patrols to keep watch for you all over the place. He's afraid of you. Afraid of how close you are to Richard. He's going to try and get you in the dungeon along with Marian's father."
Robin turned all this over in his head. "And Richard doesn't know?"
"Who's going to tell him? John? The Sheriff? No, Richard has no idea, or he'd drop the Crusades for a bit and come back to Nottingham. On top of that, the Sheriff is having all messengers in and out of the village checked, so nothing written can get to the King. He also has all long distance messengers followed by at least one of his men, so no verbal messages to Richard either. No, my friend, the Sheriff seems to have thought of it all."
"Except for me." Robin said this quietly.
"Oh, aye! Except for you!"
"Thank you, Much." Robin stood up and grabbed his cloak. "Now I must be off."
"What now? So quickly? To go risk your neck now that I know you're all safe and sound? Not a chance."
"No Much. To get John. He must be as worried as you were about me. I want to let him know I'm safe, and to see how he is."
"Robin."
Robin had his hand on the door, but Much's voice made him stop and turn around. Somehow he knew, by that tone, what Much was going to say before he said them.
"Robin he was killed." The words still hit like a blow to the stomach. Robin staggered to the stool he had just vacated, and Much's hand shot out to steady him as he sat down.
"How? How, Much?" This came out ragged, and his voice was thick with tears.
"Resisting," Much said quietly. "He wouldn't give up the Manor. He said he was taking care of it until you came home. He was brilliant Robin. I have never seen Guy so lost for words."
Tears came unbidden to Robin's face, and he made no move to wipe them away. "Who?" he choked out.
"Guy. Who else? You know how the man can't stand to be insulted. He ran him through... I'm sorry."
Much's hand rested on his shoulders, and Robin's tears fell freely. The two sat like this for a long time- it was completely black outside before either of them moved.
"What are we going to do, Robin?" Much asked. "What's the plan? Will we fight?"
"With every breath we possess. Until the Sheriff no longer rules here. Gisbon will rue the day he set foot on my land."
Much looked nervous, and Robin's expression softened as he turned to look at him. "I'm not foolish enough to leave yet. There are preparations to be made," he looked at Much "and it might take more than just the two of us. Don't worry Much, I haven't lost it yet. He will pay, but I will do my best not to get killed in the process."
Much smiled and threw his arm around Robin's shoulders. "Then I'm with you mate! We'll rid this town of the Sheriff and make sure he never rules again."
Robin slept there that night, glad to be with a friend again. The loss of his brother was still like a physical wound in his chest- it hurt to think about, it made every breath hurt, and, with all his heart, Robin wished he had never left. He sat up in bed for hours while Much snored nearby. Staring out the window and at the castle.
I will find you. Robin thought bitterly. Gisbon, I will get you and you will be sorry. You'll be sorry you touched my family.
A silent tear made its way down his face.
Only one thought got him to sleep that night. The knowledge that, for now, he had foiled the Sheriff's well-laid plans. That he was still able to fight, and that he was going to.
Five years. Five years since he had last seen this place. Robin pulled his horse to a stop on a hill just overlooking his home. The windows of Locksley Manor glinted in the dying sun, and shadows from Sherwood Forest slid across the field. It looked just as he remembered it. Though five years was a long time..
A smile stole across Robin's face as he urged his horse onward. He would only stop by for a moment, to see his brother. Then, he would go on to the castle. There, there was a face that he hadn't seen in years, that had joined him in his dreams since the night he left.
The trees rustled as he neared the Manor; the very wind seemed to welcome him back. But, it was more than just the wind. It carried voices with it. They caused Robin to quickly turn his horse off the road and into the nearby forest. Only after he reached the trees' shelter did he stop to think about this action, for he had done it out of reflex. It wasn't just the voices. He was eager for company again. No. It was because of the noise that accompanied the voices. The chink of armor. A sound that he had long since learned to avoid.
Robin dismounted quickly and left his horse in the cover of the trees. He stole quickly to the very fringes of the forest, staying in the shadows. A group of six soldiers emerged from around the bend. Four of the band were talking and laughing, meaning their shift was almost over. The two on the edges though, they stayed alert.
"A patrol? What is a patrol doing here?" Robin whispered to himself. His heart thudded. Shaking his head at what was probably his own foolishness, Robin turned back and tied his horse to a tree before following the men. He stayed hidden, afraid to be seen in the place he so longed for. As they reached the Manor, the soldiers halted and became silent for the first time. The door opened.
John. He'll tell me what all this nonsense is about. Though why he needs soldiers... Despite his assurances for himself, Robin stayed low, running behind fences and crates to stay out of sight until he was close enough to hear the exchange. It was not his brother's voice that he heard as he neared however.
"There is no one, sire," one of the men said. "No one at all. Perhaps the journey is taking longer than Richard expected."
"No." This voice was not a soldier. It was commanding, harsh. A voice that had grown used to being obeyed. "The King is not wrong about things such as this. He said that Hood would be here by the fifth day, and today is that day! Now where is he?"
Robin's heart skipped a beat. Him. They were patrolling to find him. He thanked the stars that the past years had given him military instincts. This was not the homecoming he had been imagining.
The soldiers in front of the house had shrunk back as the man's voice had grown louder. Now one of them stepped forward. "It is not likely that we missed him, sire. He would have no reason not to come home by the road, for he does not know that anything has changed. He would journey right up to the house-"
"Not knowing that I now live here. Yes..." The man ran his hand through his dark hair. "Yes I suppose that is true."
The soldier that had spoken stepped back in relief.
The man noticed. "Then simply stand guard!" he barked out. "Stand guard and keep hidden! We do not want Hood alerted until he has had the pleasure of my company."
A couple of the men laughed. The rest bowed hurriedly and murmured "Yes, Gisbon," before the took up their posts.
Luck kept the men from setting up their watch where Robin was hiding. He saw Gisbon look around before going back inside, then he leaned back against the fencing and closed his eyes. He was in trouble, no doubt about it. Gisbon. Yes, he knew the name. When he'd left with Richard, Gisbon was just a young man, following the Sheriff around like a well-trained puppy. Now it seemed he was very much in control. Of the soldiers, and of the Manor.
Whatever had happened to his brother would have to wait. John could take care of himself. Robin had to find out what was going on, now. He couldn't risk getting caught by Gisbon, not after what he had just heard.
Sighing, Robin got to his feet but he stayed crouched down. He looked over the fence and was pleased to see that none of the guards were looking his way. Then he sprinted to the forest. He paused only once when he had again reached the shelter the trees provided, and only then to look back and make sure he hadn't been seen. Robin hurried back to where his horse stood waiting.
Although speed was of the essence, Robin did not take the horse with him. It would be much quicker, and it would also increase his chances of being seen. Robin simply unloaded what he would need from the saddlebags- food, change of clothes, his cloak, his knife (which he strapped to his leg), and, of course, his bow and a quiver of arrows. His bow and quiver he slung onto his back, his cloak he pulled on, and everything else went into his rucksack. Then, he took the saddle and bridle off the horse and untied him. He patted its nose once. Robin then made his way toward the village.
There were guards at the gate, so he stopped and waited until a large group passed, and he joined them. He hunched his shoulders and walked with a limp. With his hood up and the pack looking like lump on his back, Robin easily passed as an old villager on his way home from the fields. He wasn't given so much as a second glance by the guards or by the tired group he had joined.
Once inside, Robin straightened up and made his way through the streets and alleys. The door he stopped in front of had a single lantern in the window, and sound of someone sharpening a knife could be heard. Robin knocked, and the sound abruptly stopped.
A face appeared in the window, looking suspiciously at Robin hidden face and cloak. Then the face disappeared and a voice from inside said, "Take off the hood and state your name and business."
"You know me," Robin answered. "You know me well, and I dare not take the hood off for fear of being recognized. As for business-"
Before he even finished speaking, the door was flung open. Robin smiled at the man who opened it, who looked for all the world like his birthday had come early. He was ushered inside. The moment the door was closed, Robin stumbled back a few paces from the force of the hug Much gave him. Robin hugged him back, then the men stood there, looking at each other for the first time in three years.
"Robin!" Much didn't raise his voice over a whisper. "You're here!... How'd you get here? I heard the soldiers talking. Guy thought he was going to have you for sure. I don't understand, how'd you know to avoid him? Why didn't you go home?"
This was all said so fast that Robin laughed. "Much, slow down! I'm fine. Absolutely fine. If Gisbon's soldiers hadn't been so loud he would have had me. I was lucky. Now what's going on? I heard the men talking, but I know only that Gisbon has Locksley Manor. Is Guy in control now? Why isn't he living up at the castle?"
"It's bad Robin. Real bad. The Sheriff's taken over, Guy's his right-hand man." Much's face, which had just been so joyful, was suddenly serious.
Robin was baffled. "The Sheriff? But... how?"
"No one really knows. One minute things were running smoothly under Marian's father- you know he was supposed to keep the peace while Richard is away? Well, the next minute, our Sheriff has him thrown in the dungeon for some phony crime and he has taken sole control of the affairs around here. The power changed hands almost overnight, and no one can do anything about it.
"We all know that you told the King not to appoint two Sheriffs, that it could only end badly, and, well, it did. Marian's father is still in the dungeon. There are some anti-Sheriff groups, though not many, and they aren't very effective. Next thing you know, we here you're coming back, and the Sheriff has a fit and orders patrols to keep watch for you all over the place. He's afraid of you. Afraid of how close you are to Richard. He's going to try and get you in the dungeon along with Marian's father."
Robin turned all this over in his head. "And Richard doesn't know?"
"Who's going to tell him? John? The Sheriff? No, Richard has no idea, or he'd drop the Crusades for a bit and come back to Nottingham. On top of that, the Sheriff is having all messengers in and out of the village checked, so nothing written can get to the King. He also has all long distance messengers followed by at least one of his men, so no verbal messages to Richard either. No, my friend, the Sheriff seems to have thought of it all."
"Except for me." Robin said this quietly.
"Oh, aye! Except for you!"
"Thank you, Much." Robin stood up and grabbed his cloak. "Now I must be off."
"What now? So quickly? To go risk your neck now that I know you're all safe and sound? Not a chance."
"No Much. To get John. He must be as worried as you were about me. I want to let him know I'm safe, and to see how he is."
"Robin."
Robin had his hand on the door, but Much's voice made him stop and turn around. Somehow he knew, by that tone, what Much was going to say before he said them.
"Robin he was killed." The words still hit like a blow to the stomach. Robin staggered to the stool he had just vacated, and Much's hand shot out to steady him as he sat down.
"How? How, Much?" This came out ragged, and his voice was thick with tears.
"Resisting," Much said quietly. "He wouldn't give up the Manor. He said he was taking care of it until you came home. He was brilliant Robin. I have never seen Guy so lost for words."
Tears came unbidden to Robin's face, and he made no move to wipe them away. "Who?" he choked out.
"Guy. Who else? You know how the man can't stand to be insulted. He ran him through... I'm sorry."
Much's hand rested on his shoulders, and Robin's tears fell freely. The two sat like this for a long time- it was completely black outside before either of them moved.
"What are we going to do, Robin?" Much asked. "What's the plan? Will we fight?"
"With every breath we possess. Until the Sheriff no longer rules here. Gisbon will rue the day he set foot on my land."
Much looked nervous, and Robin's expression softened as he turned to look at him. "I'm not foolish enough to leave yet. There are preparations to be made," he looked at Much "and it might take more than just the two of us. Don't worry Much, I haven't lost it yet. He will pay, but I will do my best not to get killed in the process."
Much smiled and threw his arm around Robin's shoulders. "Then I'm with you mate! We'll rid this town of the Sheriff and make sure he never rules again."
Robin slept there that night, glad to be with a friend again. The loss of his brother was still like a physical wound in his chest- it hurt to think about, it made every breath hurt, and, with all his heart, Robin wished he had never left. He sat up in bed for hours while Much snored nearby. Staring out the window and at the castle.
I will find you. Robin thought bitterly. Gisbon, I will get you and you will be sorry. You'll be sorry you touched my family.
A silent tear made its way down his face.
Only one thought got him to sleep that night. The knowledge that, for now, he had foiled the Sheriff's well-laid plans. That he was still able to fight, and that he was going to.