PART SIXTEEN
As he and Will were led into the arena, Robin wondered just what Clun planned to do with them. The boisterous shouts from Clun's fellow Marcher lords instantly reminded Robin of the day they had come to the same amphitheatre to rescue Marion. He had challenged Clun's champion to a fight to gain her back. The champion had been Nasir, though Robin had not known it at the time. It had only been after Nasir's helmet had been knocked off his head, and John and Will had signalled to the Saracen that Robin was a friend, that Robin and his friends had defeated Owen of Clun and rescued Marion. But now Robin could see nothing to fight for, or any men to fight against. Margaret had not been brought into the amphitheatre yet and Robin could see no sign of a champion he was meant to
fight. All he could see was Clun and hundreds of other lords towering above him. Why had they been brought down to the ring? Was it simply for Clun's amusement? With Owen's first comment of derision, it certainly seemed that way.
"You fool!" he shouted to Robin. "Did you really think you could take this whole castle yourself? Did you and your brother really think that I would fall for your stupid trick?"
So Owen knew that Guy of Huntington, or the man he knew as Guy of Huntington, wasn't dead. Gisburne had been discovered, which meant that neither he nor Margaret had escaped.
A servant entered the amphitheatre and bent forward to whisper something in his master's ear. Owen laughed loudly, his dark eyes focusing on Robin again.
"The signal fire's alight. We're under attack," he stated calmly. There were gasps and shocked cries among the spectators, but Clun stopped this with a flick of his hand. Then, he laughed even louder.
"It's only another trick by this young imbecile and his brother! He wants us to believe a mad woman's story about the hundreds of men she claims they have in the valley. But there isn't a single one. In fact, I don't see a real man anywhere in sight," he proclaimed, glaring straight down at his two prisoners. Will gritted his teeth, but the insult didn't register with Robin. His mind turned sharply to Marion.
His spirits began to die when he realized that Marion had been discovered too. He silently cursed his misfortune. He had attempted to take every precaution, even keeping one of Loxley's men with Tuck to ensure that the monk lit the signal fire on time. He thought he had prepared for everything, but now it
seemed that all of their work had been for nothing. All of the plans they had made were falling apart...
Clun sensed his anger. He leaned forward in his chair in delight.
"That was a clever trick you two played on me," he spoke, referring specifically to Gisburne's performance as Guy of Huntington's ghost. "I almost believed it was true. Almost...Now it's my turn to play a trick on both of you. But I don't think you'll like my trick. I don't think you'll like it at all." He beckoned to the servant who had brought him the news about the signal fire. "Fetch me Gulnar. Tell him to bring his guest. And have Margaret of Huntington brought to me. She'll want to see this."
"Leave her alone, Clun!" shouted Robin.
"Leave her alone? With so many men willing to fight for her honour? And her own
brother here to fight as her champion? Oh no, she must be present for this match, though she may have some difficulty choosing a champion to favour. You see, there's more than one champion to choose from. There is you, her brother, and there is another champion Gulnar has found for me. Gulnar says that there's a good chance that his champion might win. Either way, your sister will lose something in the bargain."
"What do you mean?" demanded Robin, who received nothing in reply but a hearty laugh from Lord Owen of Clun.
Robin was not armed with the broad sword and dagger of the blood games, which caused a stir of discontentment among the spectators, including the host himself. But as Gulnar slid into a chair beside his master, he insisted
that Robin must remain armed with only his sword, as his own champion would be.
"All right," relented Clun gruffly. "They can fight with their bare hands if they wish it, as long as one of them dies."
"As long as Herne's son...Robert of Huntington dies," replied Gulnar, quietly
correcting Clun. "And he will die."
"And your champion, Gulnar?"
"He will die too...once I am finished with him."
"A fitting end for them both then, Gulnar," spoke Clun with a grin. "I wish to see this champion of yours. Bring him forward!" Clun instructed. The sorcerer signalled to two of Clun's guards. They entered the arena, escorting Gulnar's champion.
Robin gaped at him, aghast. Gisburne? Gulnar's champion was Gisburne? But why would he have chosen Gisburne...? Because Margaret would be in attendance. Owen had said that she would have difficulty choosing a favourite:
difficulty because the choice lay between two brothers who were about to battle to the death!
But Margaret had not arrived yet and he and Gisburne had made a truce, albeit a temporary one. Surely Guy wouldn't risk his own life or that of the man who could transport him from this time...would he? No, Gisburne probably didn't want to fight any more than he did. Gisburne was being forced to fight under protest. This meant that he and Gisburne could fake the match, as he himself had done with Nasir once they had realized they were on the same side. Then, at the right moment, they could get Margaret and break away from the arena, taking Clun as a hostage if they had to. This was ambitious perhaps, but he and the others had managed to do it before. The issue here was whether he could succeed in such a plan with Gisburne...
Robin studied his adversary carefully. Gisburne looked determined. A little too determined. Was it just a mask, or was this how the knight was really feeling...? Robin watched as a sword was placed in Gisburne's hand. Was it his imagination, or were Guy's fingers curling a bit too greedily around the pommel...?
Clun announced that the games were about to begin. He added both tension and excitement when he stated the champions' names and titles, disclosing the fact that they were brothers. A satisfied roar went up in the arena, increasing
in volume as Robin and Guy moved towards each other, swords in hand. Then, they were ordered to fight.
Robin would reason with him. They would brush swords a few times so as not to arouse Clun's suspicions, but their real objective would be to discuss a means of escaping from the castle. Unfortunatley, Guy didn't share the same aspirations as Robin, as the latter was about to learn.
"Well, Guy," spoke Robin, observing the knight's cold glare, "it would seem that we've landed into trouble. What do you think we should do about it?" he questioned. Gisburne didn't answer. "Guy...?"
Gisburne's sword lashed out in an incredible swipe. Robin just managed to duck in time, the weapon missing his head by barely an inch.
"Gisburne, what are you doing?" he half-screamed. The sword flew out again and this time Robin was able to block it, though the force behind the blow was almost powerful enough to knock him off his feet. "Guy!" he shouted.
Light from one of the torches suddenly shone in Guy's eyes. Robin saw nothing behind them except the clouded gaze of a possessed man. This wasn't Guy of Gisburne or Guy of Huntington. This wasn't Guy at all. He was the man of clay Gulnar had set into motion, the man of clay over whom he had seized complete control.
Of all the men Gulnar could have possessed, it would have to be...
Guy's sword attempted another deadly swing.
Gisburne. Robin's worst enemy, the man who had wanted him dead since the first day they met: Guy of Gisburne. Guy of Gisburne and his obsession to put an end to every outlaw in Sherwood. Well, he wasn't going to put an end to this outlaw. Robin would do everything he could to make certain of that!
"Guy, we're on the same side," stated Robin, making an attempt to break through to him. "We want the same thing. We want out of this castle and free of this time." Guy remained silent, slicing the air with his sword a few times with frightening precision. But Robin believed that Guy could hear him, although
his mind was deeply enveloped in the curtain of Gulnar's spell. Robin tried again.
"We had a truce, remember? We made a pact to help each other, to work together. Gulnar is your enemy right now, not me. You have to fight against him, Guy. You can't let him do this to you. Look at me! He'll destroy you if you don't listen!"
"Enough of this babbling! Why won't you fight?" yelled Clun, dismayed by the total lack of action on either side. Gulnar moved out of his chair and Robin saw that Gisburne's gaze was instantly upon the sorcerer.
"Kill him," commanded Gulnar. Kill Herne's son...Kill Robin Hood issued the order in Guy's head. Robin saw the look of hatred intensify behind Gisburne's eyes.
Gisburne's sword crashed against Robin's. Robin blocked the blow, able to hold his stance long enough to make a thrust at his opponent. Then, Robin gasped in pain as Gisburne pried Robin's sword from his hand, almost wrenching his wrist off with it.
Get the sword, thought Robin quickly to himself. Get the sword, or you're dead!
Robin dove to the ground, grabbed it and rolled, hearing Gisburne's sword ring as it tried to strike him. A cheer went up from the crowd and some of the spectators found favour with Robin as their champion. Although neither Robin nor Gisburne knew it, men were making wagers all around the arena over which
man would triumph.
The encouragement from the spectators seemed to goad Gisburne on. Robin wasn't even back on his feet when Gisburne's sword struck at him again. Robin rolled out of the sword's path, but only just in time. He looked in astonishment at a lock of his hair, cut away by Guy's sword. He had been that close to...
Guy's sword swooped down like a hawk overpowering its prey. But the prey wasn't as helpless as all that. Robin extended his legs and hooked them around Guy's knees, sending the knight to the ground. The spectators roared their approval and Robin promptly found his footing again. However, so did Gisburne. Their weapons met again.
The two circled the ring, Gisburne attacking and Robin defending himself from the blows. Robin was starting to grow tired of all of this, but Gisburne fought as if the battle between them had just begun. Then, their weapons locked and stayed, Robin's wrist throbbing in slow agony. They broke apart.
Robin nursed his wrist, resting it in his other palm. Guy had paused for a moment, intently studying the ground as if calculating his next move. A hum of impatience emanated from the crowd. Some of the spectators yelled down in disgust. Robin was only too glad for an opportunity to catch his breath. What was Gisburne thinking about, he wondered. What was running through his mind?
Guy suddenly lifted his eyes and smiled...If you could have called it that. Robin braced himself, though the attack came before he had a chance to defend himself properly.
With an incredible force, Robin was slammed against a wall. His legs gave out on him and he pitched forward onto his hands. For an alarming length of time, Robin felt quite senseless. Then, the clamour of Clun's guests pounded in his head. He had to get up. He had to get back on his feet, or he was a dead man. Robin shook his head to clear it, then reached out to touch the cold, clammy wall, raising himself back up on two shaky limbs. The cold, hard lines of Gisburne's face were there to meet him.
Fury welled up inside of Robin, clouding his thoughts even more than the blow to his head. He practically threw his sword against Gisburne's, while the knight
effortlessly pushed it back, the tip of his own sword biting Robin's cheek. Robin felt the sting of it, yet the blood dripped down his face, unnoticed.
He's too strong, thought Robin, as it took all of his strength and two arms backing his sword to block Guy's carefree one-armed blows. This can't be him. He's too efficient. He fights too well. Even Guy of Gisburne needed to surrender once in awhile!
But Gisburne's strength and tenacity were unrelenting. Robin was sweaty and exhausted, yet Guy remained completely unaffected. Robin was beginning to think
that he couldn't take much more of this. He began to wonder when the final stroke would come...
It was about to.
Guy lunged forward in a fierce attack. The two swords clashed and struggled, raised up above their owner's heads. Robin groaned as the weight behind Gisburne's sword was forced upon him.
"No!" exclaimed Robin. He was hurled to the ground, his sword flying all the way to the other side of the ring. Robin saw Guy tower over him, his sword arched lovingly in his hand.
He's going to kill me, thought Robin. I'm going to die. Guy's unblinking eyes were fixed intently on his adversary. Robin faced him squarely, unwillingly to shy away from his fate. The shadow of his enemy's sword fell across him and Robin waited.
"Guy!" cried a voice in horror. "Guy, no!"
The spectators became silent at once, awed by the dramatic entrance they had just witnessed to the blood games. Robin looked up above him and saw Margaret gazing down at Gisburne anxiously.
"What are you doing?" she uttered. "Guy, stop this at once! Guy!" He hesitated as if he could register her voice somewhere in his mind.
"Guy!" she implored. He glared up at her, as if frustrated by the fact that she was trying to ruin his victory. Then the slits of his eyes widened and he stared at her, fixated.
Gulnar shrieked at him to kill Herne's son, but Guy heard and saw nothing but Margaret.
"Guy," she repeated, so softly that she could barely be heard. He slowly lowered his sword and Robin rolled out of his way very carefully, rising even more guardedly to his feet. Guy still hadn't taken his eyes off of Margaret, but was studying her in complete wonder.
What did he see? What was it that she represented to him...? Whatever affect she had on Gisburne, it had saved Robin's life. If I don't act now, her efforts will have been wasted, thought Robin.
Robin knew it wasn't very sporting of him, but he saw no other choice. He crept up behind Guy and, with the blunt edge of his sword, he hit him on the back of the head. Guy crumpled forward on the ground.
With another piece of perfect timing, Much and the other outlaws fell in behind Clun, their arrows notched and ready to fire. Loxley, Marion, John and Nasir also appeared. The man holding Will was forced to release him. However, it was Margaret who made the first move against Clun.
"I didn't think it was possible, but I hate you now even more than I did before," she said, trying to keep her voice from shaking.
"Hate is a strong word, Margaret," he answered, forging a brave grin on his face.
"Not strong enough," she replied. Clun reeled back, taking the force of her fist as it pounded him in the face. Pain spasmed in her hand, but she ignored it, focusing instead on her brothers below her.
"Please help me," she spoke.
"Yes, my lady!" responded the outlaws, as if knowing what to expect from her if
they disobeyed, citing Owen of Clun as an example. Will and John stepped forward. By each taking an arm, they found they could lower her down to Robin. Robin caught her by the waist and she fell into his arms, embracing him.
"Robert! Robert! You came! You came!" she cried. Robin stroked her hair and managed to laugh.
"By the look of things up there, I don't think I needed to."
"Oh, but you did need to! I'm so glad you came! I can't believe you came!"
"What? You didn't expect me to leave you in this awful place, did you?" Margaret raised her head from his chest and looked up at him.
"Robert, your face!"
"It's only a cut." He tried to reassure her, but she was already dabbing his cheek with the edge of her sleeve. Then Guy groaned. Margaret looked in his direction as if she had just remembered he was there. Robin released her and she rushed to Guy's side. She helped him sit up as he stared at his surroundings.
"What...?" he gasped, unable to remember what had just occurred, or how he had ended up in the arena. He was even more surprised to see the woman who knelt beside him.
It couldn't be, he thought, his mind still wrapped in confusion. It was impossible. But her face...her eyes...she looked so much like her...
"Margaret...?" he dared to ask. She nodded and smiled, then threw her arms around him.
"I thought you were dead! Thank God, you're not dead! I'm so happy you're all right..." She started to weep, the tears she had been holding back for days flooding out.
"Comfort her," mouthed Robin to the bewildered knight, giving a jerk of his head towards Guy's hands. Guy slowly wrapped his arms around her and did what he could, which wasn't much. It had been a good many years since he had actually tried to comfort anyone and he was terribly out of practice.
* * * *
"My lord! My lord! An army of men are heading towards the castle!"
"What?" thundered Owen.
"It's a pity that Gulnar did not listen to me," commented Marion to Loxley, loudly enough for Owen to hear them. "I told him that there was an army of men in the valley and he didn't believe me."
"Gulnar!" roared Clun. He leapt out of his chair and grabbed Gulnar by the shoulders. "You said there'd be no attack. You swore it was a lie, Gulnar!"
"It cannot be, my lord!" cried the sorcerer. "I would have seen it!"
"Well, you didn't see it, you fool!" Clun started to shake his servant violently.
"Master!" quavered Gulnar. "We must defend the castle!" Owen looked around him and saw his guests stumbling around in panic.
"I'm surrounded by cowards and idiots, Gulnar! Defend the castle, you say? With whom shall I defend it with?" he shouted. Gulnar struggled desperately as Clun's fury threatened to overwhelm him. Loxley watched the two in disbelief, then sensibly focused his attention on the crowd of spectators around him.
"We have to get out of here," he said to the outlaws. He looked down into the ring. "Robert!" he called. Robin caught sight of him and signalled that he understood. He turned quickly to Gisburne.
"Get Margaret to safety!" he yelled as the first stream of seigers burst into the upper level of the amphitheatre. "The way is clear. Get out of here now!" Guy, though still in a stupor, could recognize an attack in almost any state of consciousness. He pulled Margaret to her feet.
"Run," he told her, and she took his hand, allowing him to lead her out of the castle. Robin looked up into the stands, witnessing the onslaught of the battle. Then, he felt quite nauseous as his eyes fell upon the hideous corpse of Gulnar still sitting up in his chair...His master was lying on the ground beside him.
He rapidly flicked his eyes away and saw the outlaws embroiled in the midst of the fighting. What if they shared the same gruesome fates as Clun and Gulnar?
"Jump!" he exclaimed, trying to catch Loxley's attention. He knew that the distance between the outlaws and the ring was safe enough to risk it since he had made the same attempt himself. When he managed to alert Loxley, he repeated his suggestion. Loxley hesitated over this option for a moment but, as he now
trusted his companion, he took no longer than that to make his decision.
He began to herd as many of his men away from the fighting as he could, instructing them to leap down into the pit with Robin. At first, this proved to be difficult as most members of the band had become engaged in fighting themselves. Nevertheless, three men managed to break free and leapt into the ring.
Once they had regained their footing, Robin ushered them through the same exit Guy and Margaret had followed out of the castle. Soon, a few more outlaws plunged into the arena and were told to escape from the castle too.
More of Clun's enemies flooded into the amphitheatre. Robin watched them enter in concern. His friends were still up there...
"Loxley!" he hollared. Loxley saw the soldiers and managed to pull Much away from the fighting.
"Jump!" ordered Loxley.
"But what about you?" questioned Much.
"Just do it!" shouted Loxley. After putting up a struggle, Much was sitting at Robin's feet. He had been partially convinced, but mostly pushed into the arena. In a matter of seconds, John, Will and Nasir had landed beside them.
"Where's Marion and Loxley?" demanded Robin.
"Still up there," answered Will grimly. Robin peered up at the platform and gave a start.
"Marion!" A very large and burly warrior was approaching her from behind, but she seemed to be aware of this fact already. The huge forearm was hardly around her when she grounded her heel into his toes and elbowed him sharply in the ribs. He wheezed painfully and she broke free from the battle.
Loxley managed to seriously wound the man he was fighting. He grabbed Marion by the arm before they both leapt into the arena.
"Marion, are you all right?" asked Robin and Loxley in unison.
"Yes, I'm fine," she replied, quickly shaking out her skirts.
"Can we get out of here now?" requested Will.
"Wait," interjected Robin anxiously, "two men still haven't come down."
"They won't be going anywhere," said Loxley, bowing his head. "Adam and Hugh are
dead." John placed a hand on his shoulder.
"They fought well and they were brave," John assured him.
"There's nothing else you can do for them," added Will. Marion took his hand.
"Let's go home," she suggested, and the outlaws left the arena.
