1 | master of arms [gisborne]

Twenty-two

This segmant is a little short, sorry.

*****

The outlaws and Linda ran through barrels of Locksley, trying to say hidden. She grimaced at the sight and the smell, and Allan was trying hard not to laugh at her expression... even though her face was covered by the giant hood attached to her cloak. Robin entered a tent, where a man was working hard and pouring the black substance into another barrel. The gang quickly followed him inside.

"How much for two barrels of tar?" he asked the man.

"You got to have a signed warrant from the Sheriff to purchase tar," answered the man, not looking behind him.

"Of course, the Sheriff," Linda mumbled. With a sigh, she asked, "How much to make sure you and your family are provided for?"

The man turned around now, and he gasped. Walking backwards in fear, he held is hands up. "Please don't hurt me, Robin Hood!" he pleaded.

"Hey, relax," said Linda gently, taking off her giant hood. "He's with me."

The man relaxed a little, but he still had his hands up. "He won't hurt me?" he asked, and Linda shook her head.

"If he does, I'll be sure to stop him," she said, shooting Robin a sly grin. "I've done my part, I need to go." She turned around to go, but was stopped. "Where's Much?"

"Oh, he went to talk to Kate," responded Allan quite casually.

Linda groaned and ran her palms down her face. "Lord help me," she whispered. "I can't stay to watch how terrible it goes. I'm going back to Nottingham to make sure Tuck is alright... for now. And don't forget the tar!"

Robin nodded. Carefully, she put her hood back over her head and snuck out of Locksley. She reached the camp, where she took off her cloak and put it back in its spot. Pleased to find that the horse was still tied to a tree, she untied it and saddled on. The horse gave a whine, then it set off for Nottingham.

*****

The Sheriff of Nottingham stood on a square podium, Tuck on the rack that held him behind Vaisey, and the executioner right next to Tuck. The bell chimed sweetly in the distance, and the people of Nottingham were gathering to see what was going to happen to the outlaw. Linda had just arrived about two minutes ago, and she was placed right next to a local peasant. Frantically, she looked around Nottingham for search of outlaws, but she saw none yet. Vaisey spoke.

"Brother Tuck," he said, "for crimes against God, the church, and the faithful of Nottingham," he gestured to the people, and Linda rolled her eyes and searched the rooftops again, "you are to be racked, drawn and quartered."

Linda winced. Gruesome, that was her only thought. Flat out gruesome. The executioner went to the little stool and pulled out a small knife. With a crooked smile, he brushed it off.

"Beautiful day, hmm?" said Vaisey to Linda. "Almost makes you want to burst into song."

"Please don't," she begged, her palm covering her eyes.

"No, let him start off, I'll harmonize," said Tuck confidently, struggling on the rack.

"Oh, humor," Vaisey said with a chuckle. Stretching his arms over his head, he said in a strained voice, "Well, perhaps you need to know that my favorite moment of this delightful little procedure is when you hear the great big pop, pop, pop, pop!" At this he let his hands down and waved them everywhere. The crowd murmured amount themselves, laughing along with the Sheriff. The person right next to Linda buried her head in her chest. Linda wrapped her arms around the person, keeping her from seeing the gruesome scene that was about to come. They both didn't think this was funny.