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It was pouring down with rain. The icy droplets trickled down Guys back, plastering his long dark hair to his face and soaking his clothes through, despite the old cloak he had thrown over his shoulders. Beside him, Robin looked little better, but somehow the freezing downpour seemed to have done little to dampen the outlaw's spirits. Guy, however, could not say the same and he shivered as another wintry gust seemed to chill him to the bone.
“Where exactly are we going again?” he wondered out loud, shooting Robin a somewhat irritable look, clearly sceptical about weather this whole outing would be worth their while.
Robin however ignored the jibe, a bright, if slightly damp smile on his lips as he replied.
“Doncaster, I heard word Isabella's gathering forces there, mercenaries from the East. Thought we should check it out, don’t you?”
Guy nodded, but he still looked unconvinced about the wisdom of the plan, and it’s timing.
“Theoretically yes,” he agreed, his voice even, “but you know it’s probably just another rumor, don’t you? Like all the other wild goose chases Isabella’s sent us on this past week.”
“I know,” Robin nodded. “But we still need to check it out, don’t we?”
Guy sighed, glancing up at the darkening sky and the rain lashing down around them. It was almost sunset and the rain showed no sign of abating. Robin may have been right about Isabella, but they could not just keep going through the night.
“Well, we’ll never make it before dark” Guy pointed out reasonably. “We should find shelter, wait out this storm and carry on in the morning.”
“Missing your home comforts?” Robin grinned, a mischievous glint sparkling in his eyes and Guy scowled.
He was hungry and tired and wet, and absolutely frozen to the bone. It was all very well for Robin. He had been an outlaw for years, and a soldier in the holy land before that, he was used to life in the forest. Guy on the other hand was still used to the comforts of Locksley Manor and if he was honest, he did miss them at times, especially times like this. Not that he would tell Robin of course, a man who had until recently been his mortal enemy, however miserably cold and exhausted he felt, he had too much pride for that.
Suddenly there was a loud crack of thunder and Robin looked up at the sky, a frown finally creasing his insufferably cheerful face as he realised the storm was only going to get worse.
“OK, maybe you're right” he admitted, pulling his sodden cloak tighter about his shoulders as the rain began to get worse. “There's a small village up ahead, just a few houses, nothing fancy. We can stay there till morning.”
“Theres an inn?” Guy asked, the prospect of hot food, ale and a warm, dry bed sounding almost too good to be true, but Robin shook his head.
“No, but we can sleep in a barn or something.”
“And the villagers won’t mind?” Guy frowned. Surely the barns and stables must belong to someone.
But Robin’s grin was back, cocky as ever, a slight spring in his sodden step as he replied.
“Of course they won’t. I’m Robin Hood."
It was another mile or two to the village and by the time they got there, even Robin looked half drowned and exhausted. To Guy’s slight annoyance, when they finally did arrive, Robin was immediately proved right. The villagers only had to hear his name, and they welcomed him with open arms. However, any irritation Guy felt at the villager's reaction was outweighed by his relief at being out of the storm. They were given hot food and blankets and allowed to sleep in the stables away from the stinging rain and bighting wind outside.
He tried to ignore the suspicious looks the villagers gave him. Clearly, they recognised him, and he wasn’t welcome. However, it was not until later that night that he realised just how true that was...
After the day's exhaustion, Guy had fallen into a deep, yet fitful sleep almost as soon as he lay his head down on the warm dry hay. The dreams did not come as often now, not since he joined up with Robin; at least not every night. But he was still plagued by them, and that night he found himself haunted by images of Marian in the Holy Land, the Sheriff, back from the dead to exert his vengeance...
Then he felt strong hands grabbing him, pulling him roughly to his feet and a sudden wave of confusion washed over him, disoriented as his tortured mind, still foggy from sleep, was yanked violently back to wakefulness.
“What..? Get off me!” he barked as he struggled against the two men, each with a secure hold on his arm. The two villagers must have grabbed him while he was asleep, clearly to much the coward to jump him while awake, and he could see more villagers behind them in the doorway to the barn.
“Get off me!” he shouted again, but no matter how hard he struggled; their grip was too strong and he could not get free. Then a sudden pain blossomed in the back of his knee as one of the men gave it a vicious kick, knocking him to the ground. “Robin!”
At Guy’s shouts and the sound of the commotion, Robin woke almost instantly, immediately awake as he leapt to his feet, a look of confused horror on his face as he saw what was going on.
“What are you doing!?” he cried appalled, staring at them in shock as they dragged Gisborne towards the barn door. “Let him go!”
The Hedman of the village stepped forward, a middle-aged man with thick greying hair and a look of hatred burning in his dark brown eyes, his voice deferential but firm as he addressed Robin. He was clearly the leader of this group.
“I don't think so Robin, not after what he’s done.”
“What?”
Robin just frowned, confused, and shot a questioning look at Guy but his companion gave a quick shake of the head, clearly just as clueless himself.
“Don't look at me, I've done nothing” he growled, turning back to the villagers. “So let me go!”
A look of such hatred flashed in the Headman's eye as he turned to look at Gisborne, his voice burning with fury.
“It was another mile or two to the village and by the time they got there, even Robin looked half drowned and exhausted. To Guy’s slight annoyance, when they finally did arrive, Robin was immediately proved right. The villagers only had to hear his name, and they welcomed him with open arms. However, any irritation Guy felt at the villager's reaction was outweighed by his relief at being out of the storm. They were given hot food and blankets and allowed to sleep in the stables away from the stinging rain and bighting wind outside.
He tried to ignore the suspicious looks the villagers gave him. Clearly, they recognised him, and he wasn’t welcome. However, it was not until later that night that he realised just how true that was...
After the day's exhaustion, Guy had fallen into a deep, yet fitful sleep almost as soon as he lay his head down on the warm dry hay. The dreams did not come as often now, not since he joined up with Robin; at least not every night. But he was still plagued by them, and that night he found himself haunted by images of Marian in the Holy Land, the Sheriff, back from the dead to exert his vengeance...
Then he felt strong hands grabbing him, pulling him roughly to his feet and a sudden wave of confusion washed over him, disoriented as his tortured mind, still foggy from sleep, was yanked violently back to wakefulness.
“What..? Get off me!” he barked as he struggled against the two men, each with a secure hold on his arm. The two villagers must have grabbed him while he was asleep, clearly to much the coward to jump him while awake, and he could see more villagers behind them in the doorway to the barn.
“Get off me!” he shouted again, but no matter how hard he struggled; their grip was too strong and he could not get free. Then a sudden pain blossomed in the back of his knee as one of the men gave it a vicious kick, knocking him to the ground. “Robin!”
At Guy’s shouts and the sound of the commotion, Robin woke almost instantly, immediately awake as he leapt to his feet, a look of confused horror on his face as he saw what was going on.
“What are you doing!?” he cried appalled, staring at them in shock as they dragged Gisborne towards the barn door. “Let him go!”
The Hedman of the village stepped forward, a middle-aged man with thick greying hair and a look of hatred burning in his dark brown eyes, his voice deferential but firm as he addressed Robin. He was clearly the leader of this group.
“I don't think so Robin, not after what he’s done.”
“What?”
Robin just frowned, confused, and shot a questioning look at Guy but his companion gave a quick shake of the head, clearly just as clueless himself.
“Don't look at me, I've done nothing” he growled, turning back to the villagers. “So let me go!”
A look of such hatred flashed in the Headman's eye as he turned to look at Gisborne, his voice burning with fury.
“Really? You don't even remember do you?” he spat and the blank look on Guy’s face confirmed as much, making him angrier still. “My son, my boy... you carted him away and hung him, just for steeling bread! He was 15! A life for a life, that's what I say!”
It suddenly clicked in Guys mind what these villagers were planning, and he struggled harder against their grip, though still to no avail.
“What!?” he growled, indignant anger filling his voice as he realised what the man had in mind. Now he was with Robin, he risked his life every day to help these people, and now they were going to kill him...
But Robin jumped in before the men could drag Guy outside.
“Wait!” he cried, putting his hands up placatingly, trying to calm down the situation, trying to get them to listen, to see reason. “Gisborne’s with me now! We're helping you!”
But the man shook his head, pointing an accusing figure at Guy as he replied.
“I don't care. My son deserves vengeance,” he explained, his tone full of anger, “and there's not a man here in this village who wouldn't like to see him swing for his crimes. Now take him outside.”
This last bit was addressed to the villagers holding Guy and they hauled his struggling form back to his feet, dragging him roughly towards the stable door.
“Get off me!” he shouted again “Robin!”
But then he was outside, the bighting rain lashing down on his face yet again and the sound of Robin’s voice echoing distantly behind him.
“Gisborne, I’ll fix this!” he called, then the stable door closed behind them, and Robin and the villagers were cut from view.
By dawn the rain had finally lessened to a fine drizzle, but Guy still shivered in the crisp morning breeze, the corner of the barn offering little protection against the elements. The villagers had lashed him to a stout wooden post, a support beam for the barn, overlooking the small village square... where two men had begun stringing up a makeshift noose over an old wooden barrel. It would not take them long.
He wondered vaguely why they had bothered to bring him out here at all, rather than just tying him in the barn, but there was only one possible answer. They had wanted him to see this, to make him watch as they prepared for his execution.
At that troubling thought, Guy tried once again to wriggle free of his bonds, but his hands felt clumsy and useless as he fumbled with the knot, the cold, and the tightness of the rope leaving them dead and numb and he got nowhere. He let out a grunt of frustration, giving one final tug against the ropes and sending a wave of pins and needles pricking painfully through his fingers before finally giving up. It was no use, and he knew it. Resting his head back wearily against the wooden post, he closed his eyes, shivering and exhausted. It could not hurt, just for a moment...
Guy’s eyes snapped open with a start, jerking his head up sharply as something touched his arm, startling him awake. Glancing round wildly, he pulled away on instinct, or rather tried too, but all he succeeded in doing was yanking painfully against his bonds. He had not even realised he had fallen asleep, though now when he woke, he felt groggy and disorientated, his fogged mind taking a moment to focus.
And there, standing before him was Robin Hood. The outlaw looked annoyingly dry and well rested in comparison to his own uncomfortable predicament, though there was a slight frown on Robin’s usually insufferably cheerful face.
“Gisborne, are you alright?” he asked, casing a critical eye over his companion, and Guy scowled, shivering.
“What do you think” he growled, though his voice sounded rough even to him.
He was cold and tired, his clothes were soaked through for the second time in as many days, this time without even a cloak to protect him, and the rough cords the villagers had used to tie him were cutting painfully into his wrists. Not to mention the fact he was standing there, watching the villagers build the means for his own execution.
“So?” he demanded when Robin did not reply, casting the outlaw an expectant look.
“What?”
“You said you’d talk to the villagers, fix this” Guy reminded him pointedly, and Robin nodded, though he did not quite meet his companion's gaze.
“I know.”
“And?” Guy pressed.
“And... I'm still trying” the outlaw admitted a touch evasively, and Guy’s heart sank. If even Robin sounded unsure, then he really was in trouble.
“Great...” he muttered bitterly, rolling his eyes. Every time he had tried to catch Robin in the past, the people had stood by him, and now he was relying on the outlaw to make them listen, and his influence seemed to have miraculously disappeared. “The one time your precious people won't listen to you and...”
But Robin did not let him complete that thought.
“They'll listen” he promised firmly, cutting Guy off before he could finish. “They just need some persuading, that's all.”
And at that, Guy snorted.
“And these are the people we’re supposed to protect?” he spat.
His tone was harsh and resentful, and Robin’s head snapped round, bristling at the acid in his words.
“You tormented them for years!” he objected, and Guy scowled, his gaze hardening, glinting with fury.
“So that makes it ok then?” he snapped. Was Robin actually trying to defend them? Even now? But of course he was, Guy sighed wearily. He was always the peoples champion after all.
Robin, however, shook his head, suddenly deadly serious as he looked at Guy, and to his slight surprise, the outlaw actually looked... concerned?
“No. No, it doesn't” he agreed honestly. “Look, I’ll sort this, ok? I won't let you hang. You have my word.”
But despite the outlaw's earnest promise, Guy was not quite sure he believed him, nor was he even sure Robin did.
He was left alone again after that. Robin disappeared back into one of the main huts to talk to the peasants, presumably in an attempt to persuade them to let him go. Or at least, that’s what Guy hoped. He could not really be sure what they were talking about, but he liked to think that Robin would not just leave him here to die, despite their past. He was too much the hero for that.
The villagers had finished their work while he had been asleep, and the noose now hung sturdily above the barrel, ready to claim it’s victim. Though he tried not to look, Guy found his eyes repeatedly drawn to it and he shivered, this time not just from the cold.
He shifted uncomfortably, trying to get some feeling back into his frozen limbs, but the ropes left him little movement, and all he succeeded in doing was sending an uncomfortable, prickling sensation through his numb hands and sodden feet and he grimaced. If they were going to kill him, he considered bitterly, then they could at least have kept him somewhere warm and dry overnight, so he were not already half dead before they carried their sentence out.
Barely had that thought crossed his mind, that a villager strode over, two strong peasants standing behind him. It was the Headman, the verry man who had blamed Guy for the death of his son, and he shot Guy a look of such cold hatred that the outlaw found himself looking away.
“It’s time” he said simply, nodding to the two villagers behind him. “Untie him.”
So, this was it, Guy realised, as the men began releasing the tight ropes lashing him securely to the post. His time was up.
He scanned the gathering crowed for Robin, desperately hoping the notorious outlaw would come up with something at the last minute, just like he always did... but his familiar smug grin was nowhere in sight.
Where was he? Guy wondered. Had the outlaw abandoned him after all? Maybe he shouldn't be surprised, but he had hoped...
The thought was cut short as his bonds were finally released and he was shoved roughly forward so he stumbled, barely catching himself before he fell. He considered trying to run, to push the men aside and make for the trees, but he knew he did not have the strength. The night outside in the bitter storm had left him exhausted, chilled to the bone, while his legs felt unnaturally clumsy and heavy beneath him, as if they no longer obeyed his commands. He would not get far, and he knew it.
Almost as soon as he was freed, Guy’s arms were bound behind him once again and he was pushed forward, a villager's hand clamped firmly on each shoulder, doing his best to keep up with their pace and avoid another of their violent shoves. Guy looked straight ahead as he was led unsteadily to the scaffold, raising his chin and trying not to give them the satisfaction of seeming afraid, even though his knees felt week, and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he was manhandled onto the barrel, his breath quickening despite his best efforts as the noose was slipped over his head.
“This is for my boy, Daniel. I hope you burn in hell for what you did to him” the villager spat, his foot going to the edge of the barrel, ready to kick it away.
Then, just when Guy was sure his time was up, a loud voice echoed across the square and the Headman froze. It was Robin.
“Wait!”
The outlaw stepped out into the clearing, a look of anger, or maybe betrayal, on his face, as he looked over at the Headman, the man’s boot resting dangerously on the barrel beneath Guy’s feet. Robin held his bow in one hand, an arrow nocked, but not yet drawn as he surveyed the scene before him.
“You said you were going to wait!” he cried, pointing his bow accusingly at the man as he strode forward. “That you wouldn't do anything until we’d spoken again!”
But the man just shrugged. “This isn’t your concern, Robin. My boy deserves justice and I won’t let even you stand in my way.”
Robin looked round, appalled at the hard faces around him...the people he would willingly give his life for if that day ever came. But today, their usual warmth was gone, replaced by a bitter thirst for revenge.
“I fight for you. Me and my men risk our lives for you every day!” he exclaimed, his voice carrying to the whole of the crowd. “And this is how you would repay us?”
“We all know that Robin, and we all love you for it” the villager agreed earnestly, almost apologetically as he faced up against the people's hero. “But this isn’t about you, or your men. It’s just about him!”
He jabbed a finger accusing at Guy, who might have answered back had it not been for the rope around his neck.
As it was, it was Robin who shouted a reply, frustrated that the man would not listen.
“Gisborne is one of us now! He fights against this new sheriff and Prince John, just as I do!”
But the man shook his head, and it was clear he had had enough of talk. “No, not like you robin. I’m sorry...”
Seeing what the Headman was about to do, Robin raised his bow, the arrow’s tip aimed squarely at his heart.
“I can't let you do this.”
But the villager looked anything but afraid. Perhaps he knew Robin would never actually shoot.
“You don’t have a choice.”
And suddenly Robbin grinned, that smug insufferable grin Guy knew all too well, and usually hated.
“Don't I?” he asked knowingly, pulling back his bow and aiming carefully at his target, his eyes narrowing slightly as he readied his aim. “I am Robin hood, and I always have a choice.”
And with that, he fired...
The Headman kicked the barrel away just as Robin loosed his arrow and for a sickening moment, Guy felt the whole world lurch beneath him. Then his foothold was gone, and he was falling. The rope pulled tight against his throat, yanking him to a stop, and for an awful second, he could not breathe...
Then Robin’s arrow hit its mark, slicing through the rope above his head, and he was falling again, landing hard on the wet muddy ground at his would-be executioner's feet, gasping for breath.
“Gisborne!” Robin shouted urgently, and Guy only just registered the warning in time to see the knife coming down towards him.
Gathering his wits just in time, Guy kicked out hard at his attacker, his booted foot connecting brutally with the man’s knee and the Headman staggered backwards before a blow from Robin’s bow sent him sprawling.
“Time to disappear” Robin urged, quickly slicing the bonds round Guy’s wrists and hauling his companion unsteadily to his feet. “Come on, Run!”
They sprinted toward the edge of the village and the looming tree line, Robin half dragging Guy as the larger man stumbled along behind, still struggling to get his deadened legs to properly obey his commands. He was not sure what gave him that extra burst of strength, the adrenaline most likely, but despite his exhaustion, Guy managed to keep up with Robin until they reached the trees, and a little further besides.
Robin was actually laughing when they finally came to a halt, the forest a shelter around them, and no sign of the villagers giving pursuit behind.
“Well, that was... interesting” he grinned as he caught his breath, glancing back the way they had come, though his companion looked rather less amused.
“Interesting...?” Guy panted, scowling as he rested his back wearily up against a tree, his tone scathing and a more than a little sarcastic. “That’s... certainly one word for it.”
He felt a little better for the running, the movement having warmed him up somewhat, and allowed him to work some feeling back into his limbs, but his clothes were still soaked through, and he was still shivering and exhausted.
Seeing this, Robin shrugged off his own dry cloak and handed it over.
“Here.”
“Thanks” Guy nodded, pulling the thick woollen fabric tightly about his shoulders, instantly feeling the difference as it cut out the bitter chill. “And... thank you, for what you did” he added stiffly, still not quite used to owing the outlaw his life, and not entirely sure he liked it either. But despite the blow to his pride, he was alive, and that was thanks to Robin. Although it had been the outlaw's idea to take shelter in the village in the first place.
“Don’t mention it, really” Robin shrugged, and Guy was happy to leave it at that. “I think we lost them anyway” Robin added, and Guy nodded.
They were safe... but that had been too close.
“Lets never try staying in a village again” he suggested vehemently, and Robin grinned.
“Yeah, perhaps not. Not with you around anyway, it gets us into way too much trouble” he laughed, a touch of humour glinting mischievously in his eyes. Joking aside though, he could see how miserable Guy looked and knew they should probably not go straight on with their journey.
“We should rest here for a bit” he decided. “Light a fire and get you warmed up before we carry on after Isabella. We should still reach Doncaster before nightfall” he added, and this time Guy did not take much convincing.
Soon they were both sitting by a warm, crackling fire, Guy’s jerkin draped over a tree stump nearby and the light shirt he wore steaming slightly as it dried, Robin's cloak still wrapped about his shoulders. Though he would never admit it, he was grateful to the outlaw for giving him time to rest and warm up before they continued after Isabella. Robin had even shot a squirrel that had been climbing one of the trees nearby, and it now lay roasting over the fire.
It may not have been Locksley Manor, Guy considered, but perhaps, after his experience in the village, the comforts of the forest did not seem quite so bad after all.