PART ONE



Author's Note : I tried to learn what I could about knuckle-bones, but I came across so many different sources (none of which matched the version from "The Hounds of Lucifer") that I've had to improvise...a lot. If anyone knows the real rules, PLEASE contact Sir Guy's secretary.

"I'm going first," stated Will firmly, keeping a tight grip on the red velvet pouch.

"As you wish," spoke Lady de Rainault, responding on behalf of her champion. Will regarded his opponent coldly, but Gisburne didn't seem to care what Scarlet did. Will emptied the contents of the pouch and the outlaws stared at the knuckle-bones in dismay.

"I don't like this, Robin," said John.

"Nothing good will come of this," argued Tuck.

"Shut up!" shouted Will. Much patted him on the back and tried to sound cheerful.

"Good luck, Will."

"Luck?" scoffed Scarlet. "What do I need luck for?"

"To win perhaps?" whispered Tuck to John. Will glared at John, who was trying very hard not to laugh. Will grabbed the knuckle-bones and threw them into the air. Two landed on the back of his hand.

"Ha, ha! I get another turn."

"Of course you do," replied Lady de Rainault sweetly. Scarlet scowled at her and picked up the pieces. Then he groaned as, again, two fell on the back of his hand.

Gisburne silently scooped up the bones and tossed them half-heartedly. He managed to catch three. Will bowed his head, but managed to hold his tongue. Gisburne took up the pieces again forlornly. While the outlaw wished to win, the knight hoped desperately to lose.

"Four," announced the Sheriff's mother.

"Damn!" hissed Gisburne. Lady de Rainault looked at him sharply. "I...I wanted to get all five," lied the knight.

"I doubt you'll need it, my dear."

"Give me those!" growled Scarlet, snatching the knuckle-bones.

He held them tightly in his fist and closed his eyes. For a moment, it was as if he was trying to summon the powers he needed from some mystical realm. Everyone watched as Will opened his palm. The bones flew into the air, but only two landed successfully. Scarlet threw the pieces aside with a snarl. Lady de Rainault squeezed Gisburne's tense shoulders.

"Well, I think we should be--"

"Shall we have another game?" suggested the knight, much to everyone's surprise. "I'll go first." He grabbed the knuckle-bones quickly before anyone could object. 


  *    *    *    *



"No!" screamed Scarlet.

"Victory!" shouted Lady de Rainault, clapping her hands. However, Gisburne didn't seem particularly pleased about his triumph. In fact, he looked almost as miserable as Will.

"But-but I never win," stated the knight, his disbelief outweighing the need to preserve his honour.

"Your luck was bound to change then, Guy," replied the Sheriff's mother cheerfully.

"What about me?" demanded Will. "When's my luck going to change?"

"In order for your luck to change, you would have to possess some in the first place, my boy," she retorted with a smile.

"I can't stand it! I can't stand it no more! It's one thing when you lot beat me. I could even bear it when she won, but not him !" exploded Scarlet, pointing wildly at the man in front of him. "Not Gisburne!"

"Come on, lad, let's find you some ale," spoke John, literally pulling his friend to his feet.

"Why? What difference will a jug of ale make? It won't change...change this!"

"No, but it might help you to forget." Scarlet shook his head vehemently.

"No, I ain't ever going to forget!" he pronounced tragically. Lady de Rainault coughed politely.

"As truly scintillating as this is, we really should be on our way. Wouldn't you say so, Guy?" She patted Gisburne's hand while he regarded her through haunted eyes.

"Well, go on then. You've proven that you can count. I reckon that entitles you to something," grumbled Will resignedly. Gisburne was tempted to grit his teeth. Instead, he placed one hand on the ground and prepared to stand.

"Stay where you are, Gisburne," said Robin. "You're not going anywhere."




"We had an agreement, Wolfshead," declared Lady de Rainault coldly.

"Yes, I've been thinking about that, my lady, and I've been wondering if what you've been doing is truly fair."

"What I've been doing?"

"Making wagers using men as your pawns."

"You think I'm being unfair? Sir Guy is my son's steward, his servant."

"So you can trade and barter him as you please? That hardly sounds fair to me, my lady."

"Lad, this is Gisburne we're talking about," spoke John, who was wondering if Robin had been spending too much time with Herne again.

"Yes, well...it's as Will says, isn't it? He's entitled to something..." Scarlet opened his mouth to protest, but the Sheriff's mother managed to produce speech first.

"Let me understand this. You think that it was unfair of me to claim my son's servant as a prize?"

"Yes."

"May I remind you that the wager was your idea?"

"I know. I'm so ashamed. If only I had realized sooner what a terrible mistake I had made."

"You mean before Sir Guy won all six matches?"

"Before he was forced to endure such dishonour. Imagine a knight having to gamble for his freedom. Why, it's...it's disgraceful!"

"She'll be demanding his spurs next," muttered Tuck, loudly enough for everyone to hear. "Oh, forgive me!" he added when he saw the look of panic on Gisburne's face.

"Oh this is intolerable!" cried Lady de Rainault, finally losing her patience altogether. "If you won't relinquish my son's steward, then what is to be my prize?"

"Much," called Robin, "come and show Lady de Rainault her prize." Much, who had been standing hesitantly at the threshold of the camp, shuffled forward apprehensively.

"Well, what is it, lad?" questioned John.

"Yes, I should like to know as well," spoke the Sheriff's mother.

"Much, bring it here," ordered Robin. Lady de Rainault's sharp eyes followed the exchange closely.

"That's my purse!" she cried. "How did that boy get it?"

"Actually, it's ours, my lady," answered Robin calmly. "Much was walking through Sherwood when he happened upon a small party of travellers. Thinking they might need help, Much asked them if they were lost."

"Of course they weren't lost! They're my servants!"

"Much quickly realized who they were," continued Robin, "once he was before the group of...um...servants."

"And that was when I robbed them, see?" added Much.

"Why, you--"

"Much, you've done us proud!" said Tuck, beaming from ear to ear.

"Much!" John embraced the blushing young man, lifting him clear off the ground.

"Good work, Much," admitted Will, managing to smile despite the bitterness of his defeat.

"So, what will we do with the money, Robin?" inquired Tuck. Robin walked up to the Sheriff's mother and placed the purse in her hand.

"Your prize, my lady."




"Trust Scarlet to loose a quiver full of arrows," complained John.

"Well, chasing down Gisburne can be rather distracting," said Tuck.

"Especially when it's Will doing the chasing," added Robin. "Can you see any sign of where Will might have dropped it, Nasir?" The Saracen had crouched down on the ground to study an array of bootmarks and hoof prints. He looked up with a furrowed brow.

"All I see is horse--"

"Bless me! Did you hear that?" cried Tuck. A startled shout had sounded from the road. Nasir stood up and the group hurried towards the source of the noise.

"Why, it's the Sheriff!"

"Look, John, it's the Sheriff."

"Aye, it's the Sheriff all right."

Nasir raised his eyebrows.

"You look a bit troubled, Sheriff. Is anything the matter?" asked Robin politely. The Sheriff's eyes were bulging out of his skull a little more than usual.

"A bloody deer just ran on to the road!"

"A bloody deer?" questioned John. "In Sherwood?"

"Why, that's very peculiar, John!" commented Tuck.

"Aye, it is."

"Shut up, you idiots! I don't have time for this! I must get to St. Mary's at once!"

"Ah, did you hear that, lads? He misses his mother already!" spoke John. De Rainault's eyes widened even more perceptively.

"You saw her? She was here?" he questioned excitedly. "Then she must not have made it to St. Mary's. You have her here!"

"No. She left here about...oh...an hour ago," replied Tuck. The Sheriff passed a hand across his face.

"No, that isn't right," said John. The Sheriff raised his head, a faint trace of hope visible in his features. "It was closer to two."

"Aye, John, that's right.

"God's Blood!" cursed the Sheriff.

"Yes, when we told her that we wouldn't release Gisburne, she didn't want to stay. I can't see why," stated Robin.

"When you wouldn't release Gisburne...? You mean, he's here?" The outlaw nodded.

"Praise be to God!" cried de Rainault.

"God had little to do with it," proclaimed a voice. Scarlet stumbled on to the road and grinned up at the Sheriff. Then, he burped and promptly fell on his face.

"That man is drunk," stated the Sheriff.

"Much, I thought you were going to keep an eye on him!" said John, as Much suddenly burst through the trees.

"I tried to," panted Much, "but he...he needed to..." Much stood on his toes and whispered something in John's ear.

"Oh..."

"So he went into the bushes, but he never came out again."

"Until now," sighed Robin as he helped Nasir roll Scarlet on to his back and off of the road.

"Hold on, what about Gisburne?" spoke John in alarm. "He's been left on his own!"

"With Will here, I should think that Gisburne's safe enough," said Tuck.

"It wasn't Gisburne I was thinking about!" replied John.

"Gisburne's out cold. He won't be going anywhere in a hurry."

"Gisburne's what?" asked the Sheriff quietly.

"Drunk," answered Robin.

"Why?" The outlaw rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"Where do I begin?"

"How about when my steward decided to get drunk?"

"Or how about when the Sheriff's mother showed up?" suggested John.

"Are you implying that my mother is responsible for this?"

"We're more than implying," muttered Tuck.

"Don't you believe us, Sheriff?" spoke Robin, smiling faintly.

"On the contrary, I think my mother could be the only excuse he might have for such behaviour." John shook his head in mock dismay.

"If only Gisburne hadn't won that game of knuckle-bones."

"Gisburne was playing knuckle-bones?"

"He was playing for his freedom," explained Robin.

"Against my mother?"

"No Will. It was Lady de Rainault's idea. Gisburne was her...champion," said Robin. The Sheriff groaned.

"God, not another wager!"

"How did you know?" questioned John cheerfully. De Rainault ignored him.

"Well, Gisburne lost obviously."

"No, he didn't," stated Much.

"He won? Then how? Why...?"

"Robin wouldn't allow her to take Gisburne as her prize. He told her that she shouldn't use men as her pawns," spoke Tuck.

"This is Gisburne were speaking about, isn't it?"

"It is. Robin informed her that she would have to take another prize," continued the monk, "so she accepted money instead."

"Her own?"

"Of course," replied Robin.

"And Gisburne celebrated? Is that why he's drunk?"

"He won the joust," said John.

"The what?"

"Will challenged Gisburne to a joust," spoke Robin. "He couldn't face defeat, not after losing to both Gisburne and your mother."

"My mother...? No, no, I don't want to know!" exclaimed the Sheriff. Then he remembered. "Wait, a...a joust?"

"We use lances, but not real horses...usually."

"Usually?"

"No one was willing to carry Gisburne so he rode his horse," said Tuck.

"Will never stood a chance," added John.

"You're lying."

"I wish they were," stated Robin, sighing again.

"Was it after this joust that Gisburne got drunk, or did you organize a tournament next?"

"Will was in no mood for a tournament after that and John had finally managed to find some ale."

"In Sherwood?"

"Don't be daft. We got it from an innkeeper in Nottingham," retorted John.

"Who owed us a debt of gratitude," spoke Tuck.

"And three jugs of ale."

"Which you almost lost, John."

"But didn't...unfortunately," interjected Robin.

"How was I to know that Will would challenge Gisburne to a drinking contest?" protested John.

"Because he's Will," replied Tuck with a laugh.

"Well obviously that cutthroat lost the wager as well," said the Sheriff, gazing down at the sleeping outlaw.

"No, Will won. Oh, he's only like this because he had a few drinks to celebrate his victory," stated John. The Sheriff stared at John in disbelief.

"Oh, Gisburne did fairly well. He gave Will a close match, but it isn't as if his brother runs an alehouse."

"No, he certainly doesn't," mumbled Tuck, casting a discreet glance at his leader. Robin pretended not to notice.

"Well, Sheriff, we've kept you long enough. You need to get to St. Mary's."

"What? Oh...oh, yes."

"Unless you'd rather be captured." The Sheriff propped his chin on his hand and actually considered it.

"Is Gisburne really unconscious?"

"Even if a herd of deer bolted through the camp, I don't think Gisburne would notice."

"Supper with my mother and Hugo, or imprisonment with my drunken steward...? You know, for once, I think Gisburne might be better company!"