26Again, I'm sorry for the wait. Really, really sorry. But there's been a lot happening lately, and I haven't got the chance to upload this, so you get two chapters because of the impossibly long wait. Enjoy!
Charlotte was torn abruptly from her thoughts of escape by the biggest outlaw tugging on the rope. She looked around, seeing Locksley below the small hill. She could see the Sheriff and Gisbourne, two powerful figures. Then there were the villagers of Locksley. They looked so small and weak compared to these two men, never mind that there were more of them than the Sheriff and Gisbourne.
The outlaw forced them to sit down, and started pouring water on Robin's face. "You could have untied him," Much protested as Robin woke up with a splutter.
"You've brought us home," he observed.
"Apparently there's a reward," Charlotte murmured quietly.
"Twenty pounds each for you two," said one man, grinning.
"Go down there and see if you can get something for them as well," said another man, gesturing to Much, Will and Allan.
"Me? I'm supposed to be dead, remember?" the first man reminded him.
"Me too. They won't recognise you," the other said.
"What if they do? I'll be hanged. What about John?" asked the first, gesturing to the biggest.
The other laughed. "John can't go, you idiot. If they're going to recognise anyone, it's going to be John!"
"We all go," John said firmly.
As they dragged them forward, Charlotte kept imagining ways of escaping. Every attempt involved her somehow breaking free of her ropes, which as nice a hope as it was, wasn't exactly going to happen anytime soon.
She was so lost in her fantastical hopes that she didn't notice the woman being dragged towards the Sheriff and Gisbourne, until the scream broke her reverie. Looking around, she saw the woman struggling furiously against a pair of guards. One held her arms and the other a pair of scissors.
"Oh my…" Charlotte trailed off
"That's Alice," John told them, fear evident in his voice. "My wife."
"You're Alice's John?" asked Will. "She thinks you're dead."
Charlotte cast her mind back. The woman – she had seen her before, and she knew it. Suddenly she remembered. "Her so-"
She was silenced as John grabbed her wrists and Robin's. "They want you two! We go now!"
"There's no time!" Robin told him. "I can save her, but you have to untie me. I need my bow."
John hesitated and looked at his wife. The guard had almost subdued her.
"Trust me," Robin said, and there was the faintest hint of pleading in his voice.
John finally relented and untied Robin. Accepting his bow and arrows from him, Robin shot a single arrow to make the guard let go of the scissors and then shot another, breaking the scissors. The guards let go of John's wife and looked in the direction of the arrow.
"Let's go," said one of the outlaws.
"Godspeed," Robin replied, looking towards the Sheriff.
I know what you're going to do, Charlotte realised. And I have to come with you.
"You're not giving yourself in," she replied, in spite of her thoughts.
"They'll hang you," Much protested.
"Then I won't die a 'dead man'," Robin retorted, looking at them.
"They want me too, so let me come!" Charlotte argued.
Robin looked at her. Her chin was set determinedly and her eyes held a look that clearly said Don't even think of disagreeing.
He nodded, and John untied her wrists.
"Then I'm coming too," Will said.
"And me," Much added.
Charlotte smiled sadly at her oldest and dearest friend and shook her head sadly. She almost said something, but Robin prevented her from doing so by taking her hand. "Ready to face the Sheriff and risk certain death?" he asked.
She grinned at him. "I was ready that moment I saved you from that guard."
He grinned back and helped her over the fence. Jumping over himself, he took his bow and fitted his head through the space between the string and the wood.
"Big head," Charlotte muttered. He only grinned.
"Good scheme, Sheriff!" he called as they walked towards the Sheriff and Gisbourne. "Very effective, don't you think?" he addressed the question to Charlotte.
"I think so," Charlotte replied confidently. "He deserves a reward himself for it. Oh, but what if we told him where we are? Do you think we could claim the reward?"
"A pound or thereabout for each family," Robin said thoughtfully. "They could eat a whole winter off that."
"Sounds good to me," Charlotte told him. They turned to face the Sheriff and Gisbourne. Gisbourne wore a smug expression on his face that made Charlotte want to slap him.
"You're surrounded," the Sheriff told them.
"I am the new Lord of Locksley and soon-to-be Earl of Huntingdon," Gisbourne informed them loftily. "Your services here are no longer required. Put down your weapons."
Robin aimed the bow at him. Breaking the string, he threw it towards Gisbourne and laughed as the guards drew their swords and set them against his throat. There was a sharp intake of breath from Charlotte, and then she hid her emotions behind a calm façade, determined not to let them win.
"You both made a mistake, trying to play the peasant's heroes," the Sheriff told them.
"Why don't you play it, and show us how it's done?" asked Robin cheekily.
"You misunderstand me. You do not play games with me, as I'm sure the former Lady Charlotte can tell you," answered the Sheriff. "In the morning, you will hang and I will be there to see it."
Charlotte looked at the scared faces of the villagers, and saw her own face reflected in their eyes. A calm girl – barely a woman, really – with fear in her eyes as she observed the village she had grown up in.
Then her eyes flickered to the small group of outlaws hiding behind a cottage. She could see Will's face, and Much's, both saying the same thing: I won't let you die.
She felt somewhat glad from this. Then she remembered the layers and layers of security in the castle, and her heart sank. There was no way out. Even though Will and Much were determined, they were no match for the various guards.
As the guard tied her wrists together (More wrist-tying, she thought), she could hear the Sheriff snarl to the villagers, "All hope lost?"
The horse dragged her off, and a blanket of impending doom settled on her shoulders. How can we hope to escape?
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