Caged Robin (used to be Untitled)

Chapter Seven: Unpleasant Encounters

After the Sheriff had dressed, he said, “Oh, and Gisborne has no desire to be with you as I have. And, Gisborne really has no idea about…this.”

Robin soon was all alone. It was a welcome thought, but it didn’t take long to get boring. Not for the first time, Robin found himself thinking about his merry men. What were they doing? Were they looking for him? Would they come to his rescue before it was too late?

Robin had long ago resigned himself to the fact that if a rescue came, it would have to happen from the outside. He could do nothing to escape on the inside. Not surprisingly, he also thought about Marian. How had she taken his disappearance? Was she helping Will and the others look for him, or had they left her out of the searching and planning? Would she still love him if she knew what had been happening between him and the Sheriff? He hoped the answers to these questions and others similar in nature was ‘yes’, as he continued to sit, think, wonder, and conjecture.

****

Three men of the peasant variety were questioning the local populace of Nottingham about the Sheriff’s latest prisoner. The first man was big, tall, and strong, with blonde hair that just brushed his broad shoulders. The second man was shorter than the first, with wavy dark brown hair that was nearly shoulder length. The third man was the smallest of all, about the height of a woman, with a very slender build. He had light brown hair with a large, oversized hat on his head.

“So far, no one seems to know anythin’ ‘bout the prisoner,” said the first man, “wot do we do now, Will?”

“Let’s just take a look around the village, John,” said Will, “we don’t want to look suspicious.”

“That’s if we haven’t raised suspicion already,” said the third man.

“I don’t think we have, Mar-Dauid,” replied Will, “we would have known it.”

“Our friends will return soon,” added John.

“If they haven’t gotten captured,” muttered Dauid.

Will laughed good-naturedly.

“You worry too much, Little Brother,” he said, clapping Dauid lightly on the back.

****

With Much’s help, Shamir successfully commandeered two uniforms belonging to men in the Sheriff’s employ. He took one and handed the other to Much. After dressing behind a clump of bushes, they walked into the castle.

“Now, what do we do?” Much asked his older partner.

“We look for the location of the prisoner-whoever he is,” said Shamir.

“Right,” said Much, “I knew that.”

****

The Sheriff was back.

“How are you, Loxley?” he asked, casually.

“Since when do you care?” Robin asked, mutinously.

The Sheriff pretended to be hurt.

“I am hurt, Loxley,” he said, “That was not a fair thing to say.”

“You deserve it and more,” said Robin, bitterly.

“Just for that, I have a little surprise for you,” answered the Sheriff.

“What is it?” asked Robin, cautiously.

“You’ll see,” was all the Sheriff said, before calling his men inside.

****

Will, Marian, and John split up, while they waited for Much and Shamir. Marian soon found herself near the tavern. She decided it wouldn’t hurt to go inside for a minute or two. Will was down by the marketplace, perusing the various wares on display, while John was hanging out near the entrance to the village, keeping an eye out for the Saracen and Miller’s son.

****

Robin was taken to an empty cell in the dungeon, where he was tossed to the floor, face first. Four of the Sheriff’s men pinned Robin’s arms and legs to the floor, while a fifth straddled his hips. Robin knew what was coming next, having had plenty of experience with the Sheriff. He screamed and thrashed around, trying to shake off the five men. Their grips just tightened. The fifth man dug his fingernails into Robin’s hips. Robin cried out in pain, as the assembled men laughed.

****

Marian sat at the counter, nursing a mug of ale, and watching the other patrons. As she was leaving the tavern, she bumped into a man entering.

“Wot do ye tink ye’re doin’?” he grumbled.

“Sorry,” said Marian, keeping her voice at a lower pitch.

She was outside now, and the man grabbed her arm.

“Let go of me!” she demanded, trying to free her arm out of the iron grip.

“No, I don’t tink I will,” the man replied, dragging Marian into a nearby alley.

****

Will had left the marketplace, and was wandering around the village, when he neared the tavern. And saw a scuffle in the alley. After a minute, he recognized Marian was involved and not winning. He ran over to help. The stranger had a hold of Marian’s tunic collar and had his other hand raised back. Will tapped him on the shoulder. He turned his head to look at Will.

“Hello,” Will said, before knocking the man out.

“Thank you, Will,” said Marian, stepping over the unconscious man.

“No problem, Dauid,” replied Will.