Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Gundam Wing and the Men of Sherwood Forest ❯ Settling In ( Chapter 4 )

Chapter 4: Settling In

“Ho, Robin!” Little John cried. “How did it go in Nottingham?”

“Just fine,” Robin answered. “Master Goldberg promises to have the profits of our thievery to us in a few weeks.”

“Very good,” Little John nodded. “We did well ourselves. Quite a few villagers will be able to pay their taxes without having to go hungry this winter.”

“What of the other gold, Robin?” Will Scarlett spoke up. “Some few of us would not mind an excursion into town ourselves. I've a few things I need to pick up, as I'm sure some of the others have.”

There were nods all around and exclamations of agreement.

“Well, I suppose…” Robin began. “But mind you, I would be happier if you did not waste it all on drinking and whoring this time.” Robin was favored with three dozen or so innocent expressions. They looked no more believable than Duo. He sighed. “Very well.” He fished the gold coins out of his pouch and turned them over to Will. “They've already closed the gates for the night.”

“That is not a problem,” Will said gallantly. “I know a fellow who will let us in for a song.” He winked at Alan. “Well, a song and maybe a moment of dalliance, but cheaply, nonetheless.”

Alan sighed. “Why must I always be the one to do it?”

“Well, you have to do the singing, Alan,” another man joined in, whose mop of thick black hair tumbled wildly in all directions. “But we can stop and pick up Much on the way for the other part. He can work while you sing and get us in that much faster.”

“And we've no need to go far for him, either,” someone else pointed out, “since Tuck already brought the lad back for a little, ah, `tutoring'.”

“But that means we'll have to take Tuck with us!” complained the first man.

“Don't worry, Jarvis, we'll leave him in a pub with a tankard of ale.”

“That will do.”

Their plans made, the bulk of the merry men left for Nottingham.

Robin shook his head sadly. “We'll not see a bent copper of that money by morning.”

“Well now,” said Little John, “we mustn't begrudge the lads a little relaxation. It's a hard life we live here in Sherwood.”

“I suppose.”

“Robin,” said Treize, “Zechs and I are of a mind to return to town in the morning. I am curious to meet the local nobility. Is there a place where the better folk are likely to gather?”

“The nobles commonly gather at Nottingham castle, which is where the Lord Mayor and the Sheriff both reside. You can't miss that great edifice for it overlooks the common where tournaments and festivals are held.” Robin grinned at them. “No doubt gentlemen of your sort will be admitted without question. I myself have become such a ragamuffin that I find I am no longer welcome among the finer people.” He laughed cheerfully. “But that matters naught, except where my beauteous Marian is concerned. Still, should you go, you might keep an ear out for those speaking of travel, especially churchmen.”

Treize smiled. “It would be our pleasure.”

Robin stretched and gaped a big yawn. “Well, I am ready for a good night's sleep. Perhaps in the morning, Master Trowa, you might assist me with my archery training?”

“I'd be glad to.”

“Excellent!” Robin clapped Trowa on the back. “Until tomorrow then.” He marched off to find his blankets.

Zechs looped his arm through Treize's. “He's a very pleasant natured fellow.”

“He is indeed,” Treize agreed. He glanced at Zechs. “I'm not sleepy yet. Care to take a stroll in the woods?”

Zechs' answering smile would have caused the sternest matron to become pale and faint. “I am entirely at your service, Lord Kushranada.”

Duo watched them go with a look of faint distress. “Why can't people learn to keep their filthy, lustful thoughts firmly inside their own heads? Have they no idea how stressful it is for those of us who cannot help but be bombarded by their images of intimate penetration? I need to get laid. Right damn now. Heero, you're not busy. Come with me at once.” Duo grabbed Heero by the hand and dragged him off into the trees.

Little John lifted his eyebrows in surprise. “Master Duo seems rather vocal about his, ah, appetites.”

“That would be Duo,” Quatre agreed. “I think the rest of us should try to get a decent night's sleep. Who knows what we'll be doing tomorrow?”

Trowa gazed quizzically at Quatre. “Are you tired?”

“Not especially.”

“The night is quite warm and the stars are pretty.”

“Are you flirting with me?”

“Look, Roku's already asleep.” Trowa pointed to where the little tiger was curled up in a furry bundle near the fire. He took Quatre's hand. “I think Treize had the right idea. Let's take a walk.”

Quatre sighed in resignation. “You're as bad as Duo.” They wandered off.

Little John looked at Wu-Fei and Wu-Fei shrugged. “I, for one, intend to get some sleep,” he said. He grabbed a blanket and settled on the ground near Roku.

Little John looked around the now nearly empty clearing. “These are strange men.” And he settled down to sleep himself.

In the morning, Roku was bouncing with energy. “Papa Trowa, may I learn archery with Mister Robin?”

“Of course, Roku, but you have to be human.”

“I know!” Roku immediately shifted form.

“Don't you want to eat first?”

“I already did, while you and Mama were still waking up.”

Trowa coughed slightly. “Yes, well, we're quite awake now and ready for a little breakfast.”

“There's bread and cheese and sausages,” Roku informed him. “Papa Duo and Papa Heero already ate all the eggs.”

“They did? That was rude.”

“They've been up for a long time. The sprites dumped water on them. Papa Heero said he'd make the sprites get more eggs, but he doesn't want them to take them from poor people, so he's been trying to explain the difference. I don't think the sprites get it.”

“It must be a difficult concept, when sprites have trouble telling humans apart as it is.”

“Yeah. Papa Wu-Fei's trying to help.”

Quatre strolled into the clearing smoothing his hair. “Are the men back from town yet?”

Roku bounded over to Quatre and hugged him around the waist. “Good morning, Mama!”

Quatre kissed the top of his head. “Good morning, dear.”

“Some of the men are back. They have hangovers.” Roku giggled. “Friar Tuck keeps complaining the sun is too loud.”

“Oh, really? That's a new one.”

“Papa Duo says none of them can hold their liquor. He says next time he'll go with them and arrange a few friendly drinking contests.”

“Oh great! He'll alienate our new friends.”

“He says he'll only make side bets with strangers, not against the merry men.”

“Hmmm…”

“Papa Trowa says he'll teach me to shoot arrows.”

“That's nice, dear. Try not to make Robin look bad.”

“Ok.”

Heero approached them. “All right, I think I got that straightened out. I told the sprites to get the eggs from chickens living inside places with high walls. We think there's a good chance they'll only take them from abbeys and castles.”

Quatre frowned. “Did you set a limit on how many eggs to bring?”

“No, but if they get more than we need we can give them to the poor.”

“Oh, that's a good idea.”

“What the hell is that?!” a startled voice exclaimed.

They all turned to see a dozen or so sprites standing at the edge of the clearing, each one holding an egg in either hand. One of the men sitting by the fire was holding his head in his hands and staring at the sprites in consternation.

“That was quick,” said Heero. He and Wu-Fei walked over to relieve the sprites of their haul. “Thanks.”

“Do you want eggs tomorrow, Man with Many Faces?” one of the sprites asked. “Chickens make eggs every day.”

“That would be nice.”

“We will bring eggs tomorrow.” The sprites disappeared.

“What devilry is this?” Tuck demanded, though his pasty, sweating face took most of the menace out of his demeanor.

“They're just forest sprites,” Heero replied with a shrug. “They're harmless, if a little irritating. They brought more eggs, so quit whining.”

“What?” Tuck tried to puff himself up indignantly, but his obviously hung-over condition defeated him. He turned green and suddenly rushed from the clearing.

“Let me have those,” Alan said. “I'll boil them.” Alan looked none the worse for his excursion into town. In fact, he seemed to be the only one suffering no ill effects.

“You seem not to have overindulged like the rest, Alan,” Wu-Fei said. “Very sensible of you.”

Alan blushed. “Well, the truth is, I find if I have too much to drink, men tend to take advantage of me. Staying sober seems to be the best way to retain control of my virtue.”

“I thought Will Scarlett would be defending your virtue,” Duo put in. “Or at the very least, getting in the way of anyone else defeating it by keeping it occupied himself.”

Alan blushed as red as Will Scarlett's shirt. “Master Duo, such talk is hardly seemly at this hour of the morning. Those occupations a man might enjoy at night are not always suitable conversation in the bright of day.”

“Duo, quit teasing Alan,” Zechs said as he entered the clearing beside Treize. “His kind and gentle nature deserves better treatment.”

Alan nearly collapsed to his knees. “Oh sir!” he exclaimed. “You are too kind in your defense. I offer you my heartfelt thanks.” He stumbled off toward the fire, looking back frequently over his shoulder to stare at Zechs in stark adoration. Wu-Fei and Heero trailed after him with the eggs, shaking their heads.

“You really have to stop flirting with him, Zechs,” Treize chuckled. “He's already completely infatuated with you.”

“He's just so cute.”

“Nevertheless…”

Zechs smiled.

“It is another beautiful day in Sherwood!” Robin announced. He sprang into the clearing still damp from his morning bath. “Anon, I am ready for a vast breakfast, to be followed by the most diligent practice with my bow. Today I vow I shall hit the target without fail.”

Robin was true to his word and did indeed hit the target with his very first arrow, but there was considerable debate afterward about whether bouncing off the hay bale counted, or did the arrow have to stick. The camp was pretty evenly divided on that point, so it was decided that Robin would just have to do it again. His next two arrows bracketed the target, but everyone agreed that the ground two paces before the target and ten paces in back did not count as hitting the target.

Robin frowned at his bow in dismay. “God's truth, this is a difficult skill!”

Roku looked up at Robin with a friendly smile. “May I try, Mister Robin?”

“Why not, lad? You can hardly do worse than I have.” Robin handed his bow to Roku and drew an arrow from his quiver for him.

“Hold the bow like this in your left hand and nock the arrow with your right,” Trowa instructed. He guided Roku's hands so that the little boy had the bow and arrow grasped correctly. “There you go. Now raise your left arm straight out to shoulder height and keep your wrist straight. Rotate your elbow down. That's right.” Trowa stepped back. “Now stand sideways and draw the arrow and string all the way back to your cheek so you can sight along the arrow. Release the arrow by uncurling your fingers. Try not to jerk the string.”

Roku followed Trowa's instructions carefully, but hesitated before releasing the arrow. “Papa Trowa, will the arrow drop much between here and the target?”

Trowa smiled proudly. “Good question, Roku. No it won't. The target's pretty close. Aim right at the center this time. When you see where it hits, you can adjust your sight on the next arrow.”

“Ok.” Roku released the arrow. It struck the hay bale just below the black circle painted on the front. “I hit it!”

There were cheers and applause all around. Robin shook his head ruefully as his men ribbed him good-naturedly about being bested by a child.

“Well done, Roku!” Trowa congratulated him. “Try again.”

Robin handed Roku another arrow. Roku got into position, drew and released in one smooth motion. The arrow struck dead center in the target.

Roku bounced up and down. “This is fun! Can I try it from farther away?”

“Sure.”

Roku shot at the target from increasingly farther distances until it was determined he had exceeded the capacity of the bow.

“He could shoot farther with a heavier bow,” Little John said, “but as he is fairly slight, I wonder if he could draw a heavier bow.” He grinned. “Robin's bow is on the light side and quite a bit shorter than a standard longbow since he is still in training.” He patted Roku on the head. “But our young archer here is a little too short for a longbow, I fear.”

Roku handed the bow back to Robin. “Thank you for letting me use your bow, Mister Robin.”

“You are most welcome lad, though my reputation has been fairly shredded by your superior exhibition of skill.”

“Mama, may I have a bow of my own?”

“I don't see why not, although you have to promise me you'll be careful not to shoot anyone.”

“I promise.”

After that, it was decided that Robin needed to get back to his lessons and he did manage to show some improvement under Trowa's tutelage.

“Perhaps a few weeks with Master Trowa will turn the trick,” Robin exclaimed with his usual exuberance. “Now I've worked up something of an appetite.”

“Well, you're in luck,” a still squeamish Friar Tuck informed him. “We've roast venison just coming off the fire for those who have stomach to it eat it.” From the way he spoke, it was clear Friar Tuck did not count himself among this number.

Duo clapped him on the back. “Tuck, old man, what you need is some hair of the dog to fix what ails you. Now I know where I can come by a fine little jug of dark red wine that's just the thing for soothing an upset stomach and pounding head. What do you say?”

Tuck lost all trace of color in his face, but the top of his bald head flushed red. “More wine? I think not, Master Duo. That was the curse that struck me down to begin with.”

“Now, now, Tuck! What's that they say about getting bucked off a horse? Time to climb back in the saddle and ride. Roku! Fetch me that jug.”

Wu-Fei shook his head sadly. “Poor Tuck! Duo's ministrations will surely be the death of him. You should probably rescue him, Little John.”

But Little John had a broad grin on his face. “If a man of Tuck's years cannot apply his own common sense, I'm not the man to step in and save him. Tuck's on his own.” Little John pulled out his belt knife. “I'm having at that venison.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” said Heero and he drew his own knife.

As it was still fairly early in the afternoon when they finished their meal, Zechs and Treize left for Nottingham Castle. They had no trouble locating it. The common was adjacent to the vast market and the castle overlooked the wide expanse of grass from the opposite side. A few cattle were grazing in the common (which is so named because it is common land where any man may graze his animals for free), but there was a steady stream of people, both servants and nobles, traversing a packed dirt path that bisected the grass between the castle and the marketplace. Treize and Zechs joined the throng.

“An interesting edifice,” Treize remarked.

“Yes, it is.” Zechs shielded his eyes from the sun and studied the high walls. “I've always been fascinated by ancient construction techniques.” He studied the castle a moment longer. “I could take this place with about fifty men armed with nothing but swords. The portcullis is rusted in place and the drawbridge chain on that side is shifted off the winch.”

Treize glanced up at the wall where the chain from the drawbridge disappeared through a slot in the wall. “You can see that from here?”

“The chain is way off center. It's touching the edge of the slot but the stone isn't worn down, which means they don't routinely raise and lower the gate with it in that position.”

“Still the soldier, Zechs?”

“Old habits are hard to break.”

They crossed the heavy drawbridge and strolled under the rusty iron tips of the portcullis. A well-dressed matron stepped in front of them, her thick blond hair piled on top of her head and laced with gems. Her figure was still trim, although age was starting to thicken her around the middle. “Good day, gentlemen. Forgive me, but I think I have not seen your faces here before.”

Treize stopped and executed a graceful bow. “Madam, you have not. My companion and I are but lately come to Nottingham. I am Treize Kushranada, a duke by birth, and this is Zechs Merquise, who is a count. We are far from our holdings in Europe at the moment whilst we enjoy the fine hospitality of this lovely country.”

The woman smiled brightly. “Oh sirs! You are most welcome in Nottingham. I am Lady Margaret DeBoers, wife of his eminence the Lord Mayor of Nottingham.”

“Then I am right in assuming you are the mistress of this beautiful castle?”

“Indeed I am!” Lady Margaret flushed and giggled like a school girl. “Will you permit me to introduce you?”

“Of course.” Treize offered her his arm and when she took it, Zechs took her other arm.

Lady Margaret led them into the castle, obviously delighted to have two such handsome men escorting her on either side. She seemed to particularly enjoy the envious stares of the other ladies as she introduced her two new acquaintances. Treize, of course, behaved as if Lady Margaret were a dear old friend, which delighted her even more. Zechs, on the other hand, flirted with and flattered everyone they met so extravagantly that he left women slumped against walls and collapsed in chairs in his wake. He left more than a few men in a similar condition.

When they entered the main hall, Lady Margaret was positively bursting with pride. She brought them to a rotund, middle-aged gentleman with a receding hairline who was seated at a table with several other men who had the look of bureaucrats.

“Husband!” Lady Margaret sang out, “let me introduce you to two new gentlemen who have just arrived in Nottingham.” Treize and Zechs inclined their heads politely as they were introduced.

Lord DeBoers rose, straightening the heavy brocade waistcoat that stretched across his ample middle. He was considerably shorter than Treize and this clearly bothered him as he stretched himself to his full height. “Welcome to Nottingham, gentlemen. I am the Lord Mayor of this fair town.”

“It is indeed a most fair town,” Treize assured him with a stunning smile. “I am most impressed by its obvious prosperity.”

Lord DeBoers puffed up importantly. “I take pride in running a merchant-friendly town, sir. Any honest man will do well here. Have you a business, Lord Kushranada?”

Treize waved a hand dismissively. “Earning income is so common; I prefer not to discuss it.” He favored Lady Margaret with a disarming smile. “I much prefer to discuss genteel matters with lovely ladies.”

Lady Margaret fanned herself. Lord DeBoers frowned.

At that moment, Maid Marian entered. A man walked beside her talking to her earnestly, but Marian looked like she was only half listening. When she saw Treize, it became immediately clear that she had stopped listening entirely. Her companion became quite agitated.

“Maid Marian! I am speaking to you!”

“What was that?” Marian replied absently. She crossed the room to Lady Margaret. “My lady, who are these fine gentlemen I see beside you?”

Lady Margaret introduced them, and Treize and Zechs pretended not to have met Marian before.

Marian's erstwhile companion stood to one side fuming, his face slowly flushing with increasing irritation. “Maid Marian!” he finally burst out. “Have you forgotten I am here?”

Marian obviously had. She looked at him as though seeing him for the first time. “Oh! My Lord Sheriff. Have you met Lord Kushranada and Lord Merquise?”

The Sheriff of Nottingham was of medium height and build, but he had the sure movements and calloused hands of someone accustomed to using a sword. His garments were sturdy leather, but cut to give him a comfortable freedom of movement. He was not an unattractive man, but he would have looked better had he either shaved the scrap of mustache growing above his lips or grown a beard to compliment it. He regarded Treize with thinly veiled dislike.

“I have not had the pleasure of these gentlemen's acquaintance,” he said. He offered a hand. “I am Philip Mark, Sheriff of Nottingham.”

Treize accepted his hand. “A pleasure, Lord Sheriff. I assume you are the gentleman responsible for the comfortable peace which exists in these environs.”

The sheriff frowned suspiciously. “That is my principle duty.”

“It is most well done,” Treize said smoothly. “Our journey here was one of complete ease and comfort.”

“Is that so?!” exclaimed a nearby man. “You were much more fortunate than I. Why that damnable Robin Hood robbed me of my purse and jewels on the high road just yesterday. What are you going to do about that, Sheriff? My pockets are empty and no one is rotting in a cell to pay for it.”

“Rest assured, my lord, that your loss is important to me. I am taking steps even now to capture the thieves.”

“I should hope so! The Lord Abbot is planning to return to his abbey tomorrow and I would hate to hear that revered gentleman suffered the same indignities as I.”

“He won't,” The sheriff replied sternly. “I am sending Guy of Gisbourne, the finest knight in England, to escort him on the high road. The abbot will arrive home unmolested.”

Treize and Zechs exchanged a smile.

Lady Margaret fluttered her hands. “Oh Lord Nestor!” she exclaimed. “You complain as if being robbed in the high road were uncommon. No harm was done, so why trouble the Lord Sheriff?” She clasped Treize and Zechs by the arm again. “Gentlemen, I do hope you will dine with us this evening.”

“I was praying you would invite us, madam,” Treize replied. “I had hoped to spend a few more hours in your exquisite company.”

“Oh sir!” Lady Margaret flushed a bright rosy red.

Zechs leaned close to her ear and murmured in a low seductive voice, “We shall be glad to sit on either side of you as we dine. No doubt your excellent tastes will guide us to the finest morsels your kitchen has to offer.”

Lady Margaret looked as if she was going to faint. “Perhaps we should go sit in the parlor until then,” she said breathlessly.

“What a lovely idea,” Zechs purred.

Lord DeBoers turned beet red with jealousy.