Under the cover of night in Sherwood Forest
A few hours earlier

The Sheriff's men burned down the bandits' tiny shelters and seized every animal that fell into their hands. Even in the distance, beneath the trotting of hooves, Robin and the others heard the cracking of wood as the guards tore down the sparse huts and with them, everything the bandit gang could still call 'home.'

The band of thieves, shattered like a cracked vase, fled deeper into the dense forest where even the Sheriff's men could not find them. The vast and lush greenery of Sherwood Forest had always been the outlaws' ally, and this time also saved their lives. They hid behind overgrown bushes, climbed oaks and firs, or hurriedly hid in the foliage of the hollows.

Hours passed until the Sheriff's men could finally no longer be heard or seen. Only then did Robin and the other thieves venture out of hiding again. Hesitantly, then increasingly louder, whistles echoed through the forest. The sounds mingled with the chirping of the birds and pointed the way to those who understood the signals.

The group had shrunk considerably after the raid, and now the Sheriff's trap had cost some their lives. Like startled sheep, they were about to scatter to a tiny core - and had Robin not intervened, they would probably have jumped headlong over the nearest blade. Morale was down.

"What are we going to do?" Alan-a-Dale seemed bereft of his mischievousness. The slender shoulders sagged lower, and there was the same perplexity in the otherwise bright eyes as in those of the others.

"We mustn't lose our heads now," Will said with at least a hint of confidence, reassuringly raising his hands.

"He's right," Robin agreed, brushing his hair out of his forehead in a jerky movement. His posture and determined eyes belied, at least to most, how guilty and dirty he felt. It was not inconceivable that it was his fault they were now on the Sheriff's wanted list. Surely it was that bastard Guy who had gone after him and tracked down the gang's hideout.

Robin's lips drew a thin line as he stared at his left arm. The blue ribbon might as well have been around his throat, strangling him with the guilt. But he didn't want Marian's capture to have been in vain. He would get this filthy gang back under control.

"Come, we need to gather ourselves first." Robin nodded in the direction where his hideout was. Marian believed in the good in people... so he wanted to be prepared to give them an advance and trust as well.

🏹

Robin led the pitiful remnant of the gang to the old homestead he was using as a hideout. Hours passed quickly while wounds were patched up, a fire stoked, and a watery stew put on to satisfy hunger. The King of Thieves stared into the wooden bowl of steaming soup with dark thoughts and equally sinister shadows on his face. It reminded him of Marian's unacceptable concoction with which she had almost poisoned him. And yet he wished he could go back there now. What could he do? How could he help her or free her?

At the crackling of the flames, however, the thoughts that had previously circulated in heavy silence within each boiled up again.

"How did they find the camp?"

"They must have followed one of us," Alan-a-Dale mused, and the usually cheerful bard couldn't help but put on as bleak a face as everyone else.

"Or one of the captured boys betrayed us," Robin retorted bitterly.

Will's eyes flashed angrily at that. "None of us would do that! Not on any torture in the world!" he snubbed, ready even now to put his hand in the fire for them all. "We all have nothing left... Except each other."

"Didn't you have guards?" Robin earned venomous looks for this question.

"There was never any need! The Sheriff's soldiers never came this deep into the forest!" defended Scarlet, and Hood shook his head.

"Until today, you never robbed the Earl's daughter either, only stole some deer," he reminded the bandit, running his hand over his face. There was much that had to change if this band of outlaws was to succeed and stand up to a trained squad of soldiers like the Sheriffs. They needed to find a new camp... as deep in the forest as possible. There would always be sentinels in the future. A mistake like this could not be allowed to happen again.

"I hope they don't hurt the lady," John murmured anxiously, lowering himself onto a fallen beam. The wood groaned distressingly under the heavy load, but the culprit didn't seem to care.

"What do you care about that silly wench, John? Just because she helped our new captain here escape?" returned Scarlet sharply, nodding in Robin's direction.

"She saved my life," the giant complained, looking down at the ground in concern. "When?" Scarlet wanted to know. "During our escape from the camp?"

"At the raid, Will. She's the woman Robin had with him when we first met. Are you sure none of you recognized her?" Robin squinted, his eyes strained as if he was getting a terrible headache. Good God, they really hadn't needed that information now.

It took Will a moment to realize, but then the scales fell from his eyes: "You tricked us! The whole competition between us was a set-up! I should have known! She gave you the amulet beforehand!" Will hissed at Scarlet Robin, who was still standing there with his eyes closed, wondering if the situation could somehow get even more out of hand.

"I'm afraid that's so not true, my knife-wielding friend," Alan-a-Dale's voice whistled between them, and Will headed in his direction with his head held high. Before he even opened his mouth, Alan crossed his arms, sat down next to John, and continued, "John and I were near him all the time. And we both saw the chain around her neck. They may have been in cahoots, but he still stole it. He won, I'm sorry to say, Will, fair and square."

Will wrinkled his nose and puffed briefly. Then he muttered something like 'sorry' in Robin's direction and kicked at a stone. "They still won't hurt the brat. Earl's daughter and all. She's back in the castle now and should stay there. We're all outlaws here, not a guard for a spoilt damsel."

"What about Marian that makes you hate her so much, Scarlet?" asked Robin seriously, fixing the other with a probing gaze.

Will snorted and wiped the blood from the blade of one of his daggers with a cloth. His features were reflected in it, cold and hard. He hardly recognized himself."I was a farmer and owned a farm with fertile soil. We were not rich, but we could live well. I was a law-abiding man who worked from morning until late in the evening to raise taxes and provide for my wife and daughter," he recounted, his voice coated with the black soot of life burnt down.

"When they told us about the crusade, people spoke of heroism. As a chance at wealth and maybe even a title. A war for God and country from which one could return a man of wealth." Scarlet's fingers trembled as he remembered all the promises. "My wife was expecting another child, and so her father urged me it was my sacred duty and a chance to offer them a better life. But no wealth was waiting there, only dry desert sand and a lot of blood. God, I don't think I've seen so much blood in my entire life. An arrow injured me, and so I was sent back home. It took months because I barely had enough money to pay for the passage. But I was overjoyed at the thought of escaping that terrible place."

Will Scarlet stood up with a jerk as these memories ignited crackling flames inside him. Endless anger that sought an outlet - but found none."But nothing but poverty awaited me here. The Earl had given my farm to another farmer because I had not yet returned, and the land needed tilling. My wife and children were gone, disappeared, or dead - I still don't know. I never saw them again. When I rebelled and demanded my farm back, the Sheriff sentenced me to outlaw! No one gave me sanctuary; no one helped me! Everyone was too afraid of the Sheriff! I would have starved to death if John and the poachers hadn't found me here!" Will spat out. "Curse the noble toffs who only care about themselves! They take everything from us, yet it was just a little adventure for that brat! I'm sure she's bathing in rose water by now and having suckling pig served up afterward!"

"You're wrong. And very much so!"

The men raised their eyes, and more than one immediately jumped when they realized who had just stepped inside the hut: Guy of Gisborne stood beside two scowling bandits.