The Queen Of Arrows

Chapter 57 - Rise of the Outlaws

Angry shouts mingled with the people's screams and the soldiers' angry roar. In the castle courtyard, Will Scarlet knocked over his wicker basket, and steel flashed between the clatter of branches. Swords slid from hiding in the wood, and within seconds the bandits had grabbed weapons to take the fight to the soldiers and create time for escape.

The fire of resistance had finally spread. The people were desperate, and Marian's words had not failed to have their effect: even one or two villagers grabbed the blades, staves, or other improvised weapons such as torches or stools. They unexpectedly stood shoulder to shoulder with the outlaws. Swords clashed, and the sound of clanging metal spread the news of the uprising.

Of course, this development did not go unnoticed on the Earl's balcony."My lord, your orders!" shouted the Earl's commander - but there was not the same conviction in his face that blazed in the Sheriff's eyes. His sense of duty alone drove him even to consider pursuing or interfering. Probably no man or woman from this fortress would want to help bring the escaped lady back to the gallows.

"My lord?" the commander therefore repeated hesitantly.

But the Earl smiled instead of giving an order. His daughter was alive. Now all she had to do was escape. "Protect your lord," he said, and the captain blinked.

"But my lord... the sheriff," the captain said, and the lord turned his gaze to his loyal subordinate. "Pursuing and securing prisoners or outlaws is the sheriff's job, not ours," the Earl opined, placing his hands on the parapet to better peer into the castle courtyard. The captain bowed, and Marian's father could see a small smile play around his lips.

The Sheriff of Nottingham had his destination clearly in mind as he pushed into the crowd like a ship through the crashing waves of a troubled sea. He was not interested in Maid Marian or the other small fry, the tramps and poachers. They were a nuisance but one he could bring under control. His target was that damned thorn in his shoe that had been pressing on him for too long. A man who danced away like a fool on the crown, defying every law no matter how important: Robin of Locksley - no - Robin Hood!

Sword drawn, he threatened a swift death to anyone who would not yield willingly. His restraint had melted away. Anger colored his face red. Traitors were this pack, all of them! Traitors received no mercy. And where the hell was his cursed, good-for-nothing son?

Robin, in the meantime, was aiming for the next arrows. Again and again, the projectiles hissed through the air, hitting soldiers in the shoulder, legs, or feet and giving the fighting bandits in the castle courtyard a visible advantage.

But the Sheriff's marksmen had also got over their initial shock, and by now, arrows were whizzing in his direction. At that moment, the first armed guard stormed his position, but Robin wasted no time.

"Time for a dance," warbled the thief, teasing the soldier, who immediately lunged. The blade brushed past Robin, and he grabbed the man ironically. He used his momentum for a light-footed change of position. A thudding sound proved that the arrow of his own comrades had just hit him, and Robin pushed the man off him. With a loud cry, he tumbled down the wall into the depths where he fell, crashing loudly into a hay cart.

At a quick pace, the Sheriff finally reached the castle wall, from where the stairs led to the battlements, where Robin had taken up his position. Another soldier attacked the archer, and the lawman snatched the bow and arrow from the hand of one of his men.

"I have to do everything myself!" he hissed, pulling back the string. The Sheriff narrowed his eyes and aimed. Hood was so distracted by the charging men and the flying arrows that he hadn't even noticed him. "Now you die, Hood," he muttered softly. Suddenly a dark shadow descended over him.

Marian had pulled back the string, and the feathers tickled her cheek familiarly. She held her breath, then the projectile shot away, severing the ropes with a hiss. The massive banner with the stag's crest sailed into the depths, burying the Sheriff beneath the swoosh of fabric.

Robin's head turned and caught Marian, who was facing him with a broad smile. Behind her, Sheriff's men approached, blades drawn. Robin sprinted off.

The maiden wheeled around, and the next arrow leaped from the string. The arrow drilled into the foot of a soldier who fell roaring, tearing down the two following with his fall. On the other side, John grabbed the next one and threw it down the wall.

"Close the damn gate, you fools!" thundered the Sheriff's voice from under the banner, through which the tip of his sword plunged, rattling a slash.

A soldier swung the sword, and the blade whizzed past Robin by a hair's breadth. With his own sword purchase, Robin now worked the guard's hand, which was caught between the battlement and his blade, so that he finally had to let go of his weapon, and it plunged into the moat with a soft >>plop<<. Roaring, the guard lunged at Hood in a death-defying rush and wrestled him to the ground. Clanking, his sword clattered across the stone floor and out of reach of both men.

Then the man's fingers closed ironclad around Robin's throat and squeezed. Robin gasped and choked, then his fingers touched the wood of his bow and gripped it tightly. He threw the bow over the man's head so that the string lodged in his neck. His boot pressed against the soldier's body, pushing him at a distance, and at the same time, Robin pulled the wood of the bow far back and then let go. With a pop, the weapon sped into the man's face. His nose cracked audibly under the force, and bellowing; his fingers loosened around Robin's throat.

"Robin!" John appeared behind the soldier, snatched the bow from him, and grabbed him by the collar. "Give my regards to your bloody sheriff!" the giant snarled, then threw the poor fellow off the parapet. He tumbled with a shriek - right into the pile of men who were just helping the Sheriff free himself from the flowing fabric of the banner. Groans and curses rang out as John laughed and held his hand to Robin to help him get back on his feet.

"Time to leave," John stated with a grin, to which the King of Thieves replied honestly. Behind

John now came running up the fair maiden for whom they had risked all this.

Some ribbons in her hair had come loose, and now the red strands hung wildly and disorderly around her face. She had never looked more beautiful than now when she was about to run away with him.