26Last night, I almost put this fanfic on a hiatus. What with commitments and school, I haven't had time to write. I've also been slightly disappointed at the lack of reviews I get. If possible, I'd like two reviews for the next chapter. That's all I'm asking. Two reviews. They don't have to be long, or full of "You're a great writer, keep going". They just have to be there.
Help me to be a better writer. Please?
Teacher, if you could see me now, then you'd be horrified, thought Charlotte. You'd be asking me why I didn't stick to embroidery.
To be honest, she was wondering that herself.
Standing on top of a large hill and waiting for men to notice her and her friends, she could see her teacher's shocked face in her mind. "Charlotte Elanor Locksley! What on earth are you doing?"
Charlotte grinned, reminded very briefly of sunny afternoons spent indoors with her teacher lecturing her on how to behave properly, to which she only half-listened.
She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and checked her knives again: sharp and (hopefully) lethal to anybody who messed with her. It was a pity she hadn't used them since the fight yesterday.
Her stomach rumbled indignantly and she was reminded that she hadn't had anything to eat since the previous morning.
Her thoughts were torn from her stomach by the outlaws below. They looked around and spotted Charlotte and the others on top of the hill. Charlotte grinned. It was time for luck to turn in their favour. "Take your clothes off," called Robin and the outlaws grudgingly obliged, although the biggest did try to get away.
As she handed Much his jumper, he almost snatched it from her and turned to the outlaws. "You lot are truly despicable," he said. "My master and I fought for five years in the Holy Land. For what, may I ask? So like you lot could run wild? With your lawlessness, your stupid camp and your disgusting… disgusting…" he trailed off, at a loss for words. "Your disgusting what?" asked one of the men cheekily. "Dance," said Robin. "You what?" the man said. "Dance," Robin said. "No way," he said. Robin shot the ground next to his foot with his bow. "Dance," he repeated. "Ouch!" grumbled the man, but he started to move his feet up and down in a sort of jig.
Robin shot the ground next to the other foot. "How does it feel? Hmm? You treat your fellow man like an animal! You take from those, who are worse off and leave them to die. That's disgraceful. You're not Englishmen. You're not who we fought for. You think it is a boast to be dead? Why are you robbing him,"-here he pointed to Allan-"when the Sheriff is robbing us all twenty times over? You skulk in the woods, while he revels in life." "Well, you're not exactly doing anything about it, are you? What are you going to do?" the first man said. Robin considered it for a second. "I'm going to stop him," he said.
"Robin, you can't stop the Sheriff," Much said. "Only the Crown can withdraw his license, you know that." "If it had been that easy, I would have done it years ago," Charlotte added. "Well, when the King returns, the Sheriff will get what he deserves. But as that doesn't look to be anytime soon, we'll stop his punishments, take the taxes and give them back to the poor where they belong." "We'll rob him," Charlotte murmured. "Exactly!" Robin exclaimed. He turned back to the outlaws. "If you lot had spines, you'd have been doing that for the last five years," he told them. "Inspiring, Lavender Boy," said one. "See you," said another.
Robin aimed an arrow at the outlaw who had spoken first. "I think you'll find that'd be a mistake," the outlaw said, somewhat smugly and his eyes flickered to something or someone behind them. They all looked behind them to see reinforcements. "You're not in a position to argue, idiot," Much said, who obviously had yet to turn around. Charlotte rolled her eyes as Much turned to face Robin. He had dropped his bow and put his hands in the air. "Ah," said Much. "Look, you've tied us up, we've tied you up, we could leave it! We could just be on our way!"
"Him I do not like," said the biggest outlaw as his ropes were cut away. "It appears to be mutual," Charlotte muttered. One of the reinforcements whispered in his ear. "Are you Robin of Locksley?" the biggest asked Robin. "Yes," Robin replied, slightly uncertainly. "Robin, Earl of Huntingdon?" the outlaw asked. "Yes," Robin said. "So your sister's name is Charlotte?" he asked. "Yes, that's me," Charlotte replied. "That's good," the outlaw said and knocked Robin out with a punch to the face. "You lot come with us," he said to Charlotte. "Tie their wrists together. We go to Locksley," he said the others.
"Let go of her!" Will exclaimed as one of the men held Charlotte's arms behind her back. Charlotte struggled against his grip until she realised that this man would not let go of her. Better to take him by surprise, she thought. Why home though? Why are we going to Locksley? Outlaws are generally not inclined to take us home. Why are we going to Locksley?
"Why Locksley?" Charlotte asked, voicing her thoughts. The biggest ignored her. She kicked the man that held her in the shins and broke free of his momentarily lax grip. "Why Locksley?" she asked the big man, storming over to him.
The man said nothing as he took her arms behind her back and handed her back to the other outlaw. "Why Locksley?" she repeated, burning with curiosity. "There's a reward for you and your brother," whispered the man as he tied her wrists together, this time in front of her. "Twenty pounds. Don't struggle or I'll have to get violent."
Charlotte did as she was told, lost in her own thoughts. The Sheriff must be offering the reward for us, she thought. Will the villagers turn against us and give us in just for a reward? She hoped not. But they are starving, she reminded herself. Any money they can get, they use to feed their families. What if they do that just so they can eat? The thought made her feel sick. Were she and Robin worth so little to the people of Locksley?
She hardly noticed when they dragged them forward. She was too busy thinking of the possibilities. If they give us in, there's no escape. We'll die. But they only want Robin and I. They don't want Much, or Will or Allan. They'd still be outlaws. They could get us out of there.
The thought was ridiculous. There was no chance that they'd be able to escape. The Sheriff was too fearsome, even for her. He was powerful, and what could a small group of outlaws do to stop him?
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