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Section 1
### Chapter 1: Chapter 1
Pulled through time by a dragon shaped bracelet, Ashlyn must rely on the help of a man who claims to be Robin Hood and his not quite human band of outlaws to find her missing little brother.
Complete Chapters 13 Rating 4.7 ( 32 reviews ) Age Rating 16+ {"language":"en","storyId":21475,"genres":[{"name":"Fantasy","path":"/genres/fantasy"},{"name":"Adventure","path":"/genres/adventure"}],"authorName":"DySai","authorPath":"/DySai","status":"complete","lastUpdatedAt":1441141176,"chaptersCount":13,"rating":4.71875,"reviewsCount":32,"ageRating":"16+"} Prologue
A hulking bear of a man stood at the center of a barrel thick log crossing the river. It was the only crossing point that Robin had seen for over a mile. He stepped onto the log, beckoning for Will to stay where he was. The huge, dark haired man lifted a quarterstaff threateningly, calling, “This be my bridge. To pass will cost you.”
Robin cocked his head and sighed wearily, “My friend and I are tired and hungry. We must cross this river before we can rest.”
The big man stood straighter, puffing his thick chest out and repeated, “To pass my bridge will cost you.”
Robin shrugged tugging the insides of his pockets out to show nothing but lint, “As you can see, I haven’t any money. I’m just a common outlaw without a penny to my name.”
The man scratched at his thick black beard and declared, “I am John. John Little, and if you cannot pay then you cannot pass.”
Robin beckoned to Will who tossed him a long wooden staff. It was not as thick as the staff held by John. Robin lifted the staff. He pointed it at the burly man on the log, “My friend and I are intent on passing. Step aside or we will go through you.” His back had straightened, and his voice had taken on an edge of steel.
John’s thick dark eyebrow lifted, “You think you can defeat me, little man? I’ll have you taking a cold bath in no time.” He chuckled, glancing suggestively at the river, and then settled back into his ready stance. The sounds of the forest seemed to quiet down as if even the animals were anticipating Robin’s reaction.
Robin smirked, “I think that on this slippery log, my slight size and nimble feet will be to an advantage.” He raised his staff, twirling it in the air like an extra-large baton, and advanced. John was quick for such a giant of a man. Robin soon found that he had more difficulty dodging his powerful blows than he had expected. Robin darted forward jabbing John in the gut with the rounded end of the staff. He was rewarded by harsh blow to the back. He fell forward and rolled along the log, bounding to his feet at the end of his impromptu somersault. He spun around just in time to ward off another blow.
They continued to exchange blows, dodging and ducking and blocking blows with their own staves to avoid serious injury. After what seemed like an hour with relatively no progress, the intensive clashing of weapons began to slow as both men finally began to tire. They started aiming for the legs to try knocking each other off of the log. Robin’s staff slipped behind John’s leg and tripped him just as a solid blow to the shoulder knocked Robin backwards at just the right angle to throw him off balance. With two mighty splashes both men hit the water simultaneously.
John’s face instantly flared red with anger as he wiped the water from his face and beard. He sputtered to spit out what had gotten into his mouth, but Robin only laughed. “It looks like we’ve both gotten our baths for the day.” He wiped the icy water from his eyes and then with a grin he shook his head like a wet dog.
Will, who had stood leaning against a tree on the bank watching the duel, started laughing at his friend’s antics. The two men’s humor was contagious. John finally swallowed his pride, and with a harrumph he began laughing along with them. Soon he climbed up onto the grassy bank, holding out his hand to help Robin from the water on the far side of the river.
Will made his way tentatively along the slippery, wet log to join the others on the far side. He stared at John incredulously then turned to Robin, “He bested you!” He cried.
Robin laughed, “It happens, but look at him. He is a bear of a man. He is a worthy opponent to be sure.” He rubbed one of the many bruises that he knew he would be feeling tomorrow. He held out his hand to his burly opponent. “I am called Robin and this is Will. Would you join us for a meal and a chance to dry off by the fire?”
John hesitated only a moment before the string of fish that Will held along with the growling of his own stomach swayed him to agree. Once they sat around a fire, with the fish sizzling merrily over the flames, they began talking and soon John found that he was comfortable with these men. After they had dished up the food, John began to tell Robin and Will his story between bites of fish.
“I was out hunting, sneaking up on a huge buck, when I heard a growl behind me. I whirled and came face to face with a mighty silver wolf. He stood as tall as my shoulder and his eyes were yellow, intense. He must have been hunting the same buck, but he apparently did not like me being near his prey. He lunged before I could react and bit me on the shoulder.” Pulling back the collar of his shirt he showed them the massive bite scars. To have a jaw large enough to leave those marks, Will imagined the wolf must have been every bit as huge as John described it.
“The buck bolted right then, and for some reason, the beast released me to give chase. If he hadn’t, wouldn’t be alive today. I was injured and bleeding, but eventually I stumbled through the woods to my home and my lovely wife. Alice patched me up good.”
A terribly sad and lonely look overcame him at the mention of his wife, “Over the next few weeks I grew to be awfully bad tempered, getting angry about anything and everything. One day, I lost my temper over a fruitless fishing trip. Alice said something about me having better luck the next day and…” he seemed to wilt at his memories. His next words came as a bare whisper, “I snapped. I gave in to my anger and started to see red. When I woke I was…different. I was standing over my wife’s torn and bloody dress. Somehow, I had changed into a wolf. I ran into the forest. Eventually I shifted back. I had to steal clothing because I had none, and I…I couldn’t go back home. I am not certain what happened that day, but I know that I hurt my lovely Alice, maybe even killed her, and I can never forgive myself for that.”
He hung his head as massive tears dripped into the dirt at his feet. Robin set his hand on John’s arm, “You’ve had a hard turn, friend. I’m sorry for the loss of your home and wife.” He studied the large man for a moment. After a nod from Will he asked, “Why don’t you continue with us, John? You’ve nowhere better to be and we could always use someone so talented with a quarterstaff.”
Tired of his loneliness, John agreed to join them and they began to fill him in on their plot to put the greedy Sheriff of Nottingham out of business.
The friar’s wagon seemed to make it a point to bounce over every single rut in the road just to aggravate his massive headache. With each jostling bump, a bolt of lightning threatened to split his skull. He wanted so badly to get out of these woods, but now that his church knew his deep dark secret, he had to take refuge where he could find it. He planned to make camp in the woods for a few days, just until the witch hunters from his village stopped looking for him; then he would continue on to London.
He was just about to berate the horse for not trotting more smoothly when he spotted what looked like a fallen log in the middle of the path. He pulled the reins to stop the horse and climbed down with a grunt. Waddling over to the log, he bent over it to see if perhaps it was rotted enough for his wagon to be able to roll over it without damaging his few remaining possessions (his wagon and the ale it carried). As the friar bent to inspect the log, one of the branches reached up and grabbed his arm. Right before his eyes a blond haired blue eyed man appeared in front of the log from out of nowhere.
“Hello, Friar.” The sneaky man greeted him, “How kind of you to deliver your goods to us simple outlaws.”
The friar heard a shout from behind. He turned to see two men raiding his wagon. “That’s my ale!” He shouted.
One of the men by the wagon, a huge bear of a man with a massive black beard and matching hair, yelled back, “Aye, and a fine batch of ale it is!”
The friar turned back to the man on the ground, “It’s all I have left in the world.”
The man let go of his arm and hopped to his feet, “Well then, it’s only fair that you join us in our indulgence and share in our meal. Perhaps you will honor us with the story of what brought you to our humble woods. We have little but wouldn’t want to deprive a good man of the only possessions he has left. Perhaps we can come to an amicable agreement as to the value of your ale and your company.”
In spite of his reservations, the friar hadn’t had a drink all day, and he felt that he certainly deserved it after such a long day of riding. Though they were rough, these men seemed to be jovial and good. They sat around a campfire and drank his fine ale. After several rounds the friar began to feel much more relaxed and he decided to share his tale of why he had been chased from his church and home.
“I was presiding over the funeral of one of my parishioners and was saying some very well thought out words about him passing on to a better place, when that inconsiderate corpse sat up and started walking around attacking people.
His own family had to hack him to pieces before he finally stopped moving. It was a terrible, horrific tragedy. I tried to comfort the family, telling them that this has happened before and the families have always moved on with their lives with only a few emotional scars.”
He shook his head sadly, “Well, they told their friends what I had said and done and soon it was decided that I was a dark witch, practicing black magic, of all the silly things. It’s not as if I tell the corpses to rise, they just do it.”
Robin shook his head in awe, “Well that is a fine tale, Friar. I am sorry for the troubles you have had to endure. Will you consider joining my band of outlaws? We don’t run into many corpses here in the woods, and if we do, well we’re not the type to judge. Besides, anyone who can brew such fine ale is always welcome.” The friar laughed with relief and the fervent hope that his life would now turn around as he agreed to join them.
Alan ran for his life, shedding fresh tears for the loss of his love, Kaylen. He could still see the fire burning the pieces of her exquisite body as the villagers destroyed the monster in their midst. He had used their mob wide distraction to run, though every part of him longed to get revenge on the intolerant villagers for what they had done to his darling.
Three days later, he was still running. He could hear the sound of the dogs they had loosed, tracking him, baying every time they found his scent anew. When the baying finally faded into the distance, he held out a small hope that the men had called off their search and he would now have time to mourn in peace.
Alan ran for another day without stopping; when a full day had passed since he had last heard the dogs, he finally slowed to a walk. He took in his surroundings, wondering if this dark wood was to be his new home. Hearing shouting he almost started running again, but he realized that there were no dogs baying amidst the shouts, so these couldn’t be the men that were after him. He crept to the edge of a clearing where it looked like a small group of bandits had laid a trap for a passing tax wagon.
Alan grinned, expecting to see a good show. It seemed that with swords the bandits and the guards were equally matched, but a fourth bandit stood on the branch of a tree, shooting guards with a bow and arrows. Alan watched in amazement as one guard fell without fail for every arrow the blond man shot. The man seemed to blend in with the tree on which he stood. Aside from his minute movements as he replaced the arrow and drew the string taut, the man was nearly invisible. However, when he stepped out of the shadow of the trunk for better aim and pulled the last arrow from his quiver, one of the guards took aim with a crossbow bolt and shot him in the chest.
The blond man paused and then set his arrow, drew the bowstring back, though it must have caused him a terrible agony, and loosed the arrow. It went through the throat of one man and into the chest of a second. Then, quiver empty and crossbow bolt protruding from his chest, the blond man fell from his branch to land hard on the packed earth below.
Alan found himself running to the fallen archer. The other bandits were busy disposing of the remaining guards, so when Alan knelt beside the man he was alone. Although he was so very thirsty, and the smell of the archer’s blood was nearly too much for him to bear, he denied his instinct to finish the man off. Pulling the bolt from the bandit’s chest he then used his sharp teeth to slice his own wrist. Pressing his wrist to the man’s wound he watched as the gaping hole began to knit together. When the hole was closed, he pulled his wrist away. The archer reached up and grabbed his arm. He held it and watched as Alan’s own wound closed up. Then he looked up at Alan and smiled, “You saved my life, vampire.”
Alan nodded and moved to stand. He helped the man to his feet. “I’m Robin,” the archer introduced himself, “and those are my band of outlaws.” He said, gesturing to the bandits who had finished off the last of the guards and, after a quick glance to verify that Robin was okay, they began digging through the loot.
Once again that night, the growing band of thieves sat around a campfire and listened in awe as yet another unbelievable tale was spun.
“I am a born vampire.” Alan paused as Will cringed away. “I feed on humans only as often as I must, and I never kill,” he assured the boy. “Born vampires age at the same rate of humans until we reach maturity, and then we stop aging, usually around the age of twenty-five or so. I for one am a very spry ninety-three year old. We live our entire lives with the need for blood, so we learn very early how to control ourselves.”
“It is not a born vampire that you must fear, but a changed vampire. These are frozen as they were when they were changed and, since they spent their lives as humans, they have no self control. When the blood lust hits them they go feral. They destroy everyone in their path.” Will shuddered at the image and shifted a bit farther away from the vampire.
“I loved a mortal named Kaylen. She was sick with the wasting disease that is killing so many people lately. I couldn’t bear to watch her die and so I changed her, certain that I could help her to control herself. But then, only a week after she changed, she wandered out of our cave while I slept and went home to visit her family. I imagine that she thought she could control herself, but as soon as she smelled the blood pumping through their veins, she went mad with the blood lust and killed them all.”
“A neighbor must have seen her fleeing all covered in blood, because a mob chased her from the village back to our cave. She had just stepped inside when she was pulled back out. The mob tore her to pieces and burned her body.” He had spoken with the dispassionate voice of a story teller, but his voice cracked at this and he had to wipe a red tinged tear from his eye. “I have been running ever since.” He finished with a weary sigh. To his surprise, Will lay his hand on his arm and offered him a sympathetic look.
Robin reached out his hand and patted Alan’s other arm, “We could always use the assistance of a man who is stronger and faster than all others, not to mention one that carries an elixir for healing within his very blood. Will you join us?”
Alan looked thoughtful, “You would welcome a vampire?”
Will grinned, “Well as you said, it’s the changed ones we have to worry about, right? Besides,” he swept his hand to indicate the group, “Robin is a shape shifter, which we all know are notorious thieves.” Robin winked at that and Will continued with a grin, “John over there is a werewolf with a temper and apparently Friar Tuck can raise the dead, though we’re not keen on testing that theory.” He shrugged offering his hand in friendship, “and you’re a vampire. I’m the only boringly normal man in this merry band.”
Alan stared at the group, incredulous. “I think that such a band as we are is bound to make history.” He shook Will’s hand and then proceeded to shake hands with Robin, John and finally the friar who had seemed to fight an inner battle over accepting a vampire.
He must have convinced himself though, because he reached out his hand and shook vigorously. The friar shrugged at the curious look Alan gave him, “On one hand, you might drink my blood and kill me in my sleep. On the other hand, I’m happy to welcome any man who will be drinking something other than my fine ale.” Alan laughed a hearty laugh and soon they were all laughing at the friar’s simple logic.
Alan then pulled a well worn lute from his pack, remembering with a pang of loss how Kaylen had loved to hear him play, but he pushed the memory aside and played one jaunty tune after another. They all sang along until their eyes began to droop. As with every night, Robin stood to take first watch. Putting a hand on his shoulder to stop him, Alan said, “You were injured today. You nearly died. You should rest.” Robin opened his mouth to protest but Alan held up a hand, “I am a vampire, I can see in the dark and I don’t need much sleep, so I am the ideal sentry for our small camp.”
Finally, Robin gave in to his exhaustion and accepted Alan’s offer, “I am grateful, my new friend.” Alan was surprised at the trust this group showed, allowing a vampire that they didn’t even know to watch over them while they slept. He swore then to do everything in his power to keep his new friends safe.
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### Chapter 2: Chapter 2
The tour guide’s voice droned on and on, “Richard, the first, was known as Cœur de Lion, or Richard the Lionheart, even before his ascension to the throne because of his reputation as a great military leader and warrior.”
“Ashlyn, I’m bored!” Athyn whined. “I want to go see the Robin Hood exhibit. Now he was a real hero.”
Ashlyn rolled her eyes and shook her head, “Robin Hood was a fictional character,” she chided her ten year old little brother.
“Was not,” Athyn argued folding his skinny arms across his chest. A look of stubborn defiance stuck on his face.
“I brought you here to learn about the real history of England.” She explained patiently.
“I don’t want to learn about boring old kings. I want you to tell me a story about Robin Hood.”
She sighed and let him drag her to the Robin Hood exhibit. He stared exultantly at the bow and arrow that sat posed beneath the glass. There were tapestries of Robin and his band of thieves. Ashlyn took on the stern face of a tour guide.
“Here’s where Robin and Little John battled with quarter staves.” She explained, pointing to a lifelike rendering that was hanging on the wall.
“Did Robin Hood die?” Athyn asked a worried expression on his face.
“No, of course not, but they were equally matched and the battle went on for a long time. Finally they both got so tired they fell off the bridge and into the water.
“Did they know how to swim?” Athyn asked innocently, even though he had heard this story a hundred times, it seemed that his questions had become part of the telling.
“I don’t know, but the water wasn’t very deep so they didn’t drown.” She smiled up at the small figures, wishing her life could be so simple.
Athyn sighed, relief evident on his face. “I want to be Robin Hood when I grow up.” He declared, pantomiming drawing back a bow string and loosing an invisible arrow.
“Okay kiddo.” She agreed with a grin. He hadn’t had much to be excited about since their mother had died the year before, so she wouldn’t take this dream away. Ashlyn had done her best to care for her little brother, but she was only seventeen and they’d had to run away to keep Child Services from taking Athyn away from her. Luckily the family had been on vacation in London when her mother had died, so they had slipped through the cracks of the system pretty easily.
They came to the museum twice a week, when admission was free. It was the only education that Athyn was getting for now, so she was determined to show him some culture and teach him as much as she could. They lived in an apartment over a bar where Ashlyn had gotten a job as a waitress by lying about her age. She scraped out a meager living for the two of them, but once she turned eighteen, she would be able to draw on the college funds her mother had left for her. They just had to survive until then.
“I think that guy likes you,” Athyn said in a loud stage whisper. Ashlyn followed his stare to two men in expensive suits who were talking to the museum curator.
They looked so much alike that they must be brothers. The taller of the two glanced her way and smiled when he saw her looking at him. Flushing, she looked away quickly. The shorter man glanced over at her and then grinned brightly. He tugged on the taller man’s sleeve and gestured towards her, the curator forgotten.
The taller man shook his head, a sad expression in his eyes even as he faked a smile. Athyn tugged on her hand, “Come on Ash. Let’s go talk to them. They look rich, maybe you could marry one of them.”
Ashlyn laughed, and shook her head. “I need to use the rest room.” She led him to the little alcove outside of the bathrooms and pointed to a small bench. “Sit, and don’t move.”
He rolled his eyes and plopped down on the wooden bench, pulling out his PSP immediately. Confident that nothing short of a hurricane could get him to put down his game, she stepped into the ladies room.
After using the facilities, she stared into the mirror. Her long brown hair was a bit tangled, she’d been in a hurry this morning and didn’t bother to work all of the knots out. Not that it would have mattered. Even if she’d wanted to flirt with the good looking men in tailored suits, she didn’t dare. Wealth brought scrutiny, and that was something she couldn’t afford. At least not until she was old enough to be legally named Athyn’s guardian.
Giving up on her tangled mess, she stepped out of the bathroom and had an instant of panic. Athyn was gone. She scanned the lobby, calling out for him. Just as she was about to scream for him, she caught a glimpse of his denim jacket. To her chagrin, he was standing next to the two wealthy men, talking animatedly to them.
Embarrassed she hissed at him, “Athyn, get over here.” He said something to the shorter guy and the man laughed, then he hurried over to her. “What are you doing? I told you to sit right here, and you know better than to talk to strangers.”
“They’re nice. They believe in Robin Hood too, so you’re outnumbered.”
She glared down at him and he scuffed the toe of his shoe against the floor. “I’m sorry. But they told me about this great room with a bunch of cool dragon stuff. Come on, I’ll show you!”
Athyn ran off once more and she hurried after him with a tired sigh. He came to a small room they hadn’t explored before. The sign on the door said Closed for Renovation , but that didn’t stop Athyn from barging right in. Ashlyn followed, whispering to Athyn to stop. Once inside, they both stopped short in awe of what they saw.
There were beautiful tapestries woven with scenes of dragons flying over lush green forests and colorful villages. In some of the scenes the dragons were guarding piles of golden treasure. In others blood red, ice blue, and forest green dragons appeared to be turning into men, then Ashlyn had to cover Athyn’s eyes because some of the scenes showed the men laying with women and the women giving birth and she wasn’t ready to have the “where do babies come from?” conversation with her curious little brother. She wasn’t sure she would ever be ready for that conversation.
There were glass displays of vases with more dragon related scenes painted on them. And there was dragon shaped jewelry. One case looked like the glass cover had been removed as if for cleaning and there was a velvet pillow lying on the pedestal. Athyn approached it almost reverently. On the center of the velvet purple pillow laid a golden bracelet with intricate carvings like the scales of a dragon. One end of the bracelet narrowed to an arrow-like point, while the other end looked like the head of a small golden dragon. Athyn reached for the bracelet and Ashlyn slapped his hand away.
“No touching,” She started, but was cut short because as she slapped his hand away her fingers brushed the cool golden bracelet. The little golden dragon head perked up. It studied her for a moment and then uncurled itself and slithered up her hand which was frozen in shock along with the rest of her. It wrapped itself around her wrist and the head continued to slither forward and wrap itself around her ring finger. It stopped moving once the head rested on her knuckle.
Surprised, she started to pull at the bracelet. She needed to get it off before the curator found her touching their valuable treasure. Athyn reached out and petted the dragon bracelet’s still head. “It’s warm,” he said and she realized that he was right. Instead of the cool metal she had felt when her fingertips had brushed the golden bracelet, it was now warm, almost as if it were alive. The eyes on the head of the dragon flashed a brilliant blue and Ashlyn started to feel very dizzy as if the room was spinning. Athyn reached out and tried to catch her as darkness clouded her vision and she felt herself falling.
She fell for much longer than she had expected before she hit the ground. When she hit, it wasn’t the cold marble of the museum floor. The ground beneath her was soft and grassy. Opening her eyes for a moment, she saw huge leafy trees towering over her. Athyn was holding her hand and squeezing it tightly and then the darkness consumed her completely and she slept.
Athyn lay beside his sister for a long while, but as the sky began to darken, his stomach growled and he realized that he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. As he stepped behind a tree to relieve himself he thought about what had happened at the museum. He could have sworn that little bracelet had moved around like it was alive. He nearly fainted himself when it’s little eyes flashed. Trying to think of what exactly had happened, he remembered that Ashlyn had looked as if she were going to faint and he had tried to catch her, even though he was small for his age he didn’t want her to get hurt. She had sunk down to the floor, but it felt as if the floor disappeared and they fell through it. He had a moment to consider screaming as darkness swirled around them. Then the dark turned green and they landed in a heap on cool grass.
Ashlyn had opened her eyes for a moment and he had thought she was going to wake up, but then her eyes rolled up in her head and she was out cold again. Though he would never admit it to her, Athyn was terrified that something bad would happen to his sister. She was the only person he had left in the world. He didn’t think that he would do well all alone. His thoughts had made him worry about Ashlyn again and so he went back to the small clearing to check on her. She was still asleep, but she didn’t seem to be hurt in any way.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Athyn caught a whiff of something that smelled really good. His stomach rumbled at the possibility of food and he started toward the smell, telling himself that he would keep the clearing in sight so that he could get back without trouble. He just needed to find out what that yummy smell was.
After a few minutes of pushing through thick branches, he admitted that his sense of smell did not seem to be communicating with his sense of direction. He was utterly lost. The clearing that he had intended to keep in sight was nowhere to be found and he grumbled at himself for being so stupid. The cub scouts had always told him to stay in one spot if you get lost in the woods, that way the people looking for you could find you more easily.
Sitting with his back against a tree, Athyn pulled out his PSP and he started playing to pass the time. Since the only person that would be looking for him was his sister and she was out cold, he figured it would be a while before she came looking for him.
Will watched the rabbit as it moved slowly closer to the treat he had left for it. He almost felt bad for baiting the creature only to kill it and wondered if he should let it eat the treat first before he sprung the trap. The rabbit cocked its head as if considering Will’s silent argument and then it grabbed the small carrot and bolted into the bushes.
“Argh!” Will growled, kicking the now useless snare.
He heard a low chuckle from behind him, “Let me guess,” Robin said stepping out of the shadows, “You decided to let it eat first?”
Will flushed as Robin chuckled again and gave him a friendly smile, “You have a wonderfully kind heart Will. I would never ask you to change that, but if you don’t learn to occasionally ignore its urgings we may all starve.”
Will grinned up at his friend, “Not with your hunting talent. As long as we have you Robin, we’ll never go hungry.”
Robin laughed and clapped him on the back, then displayed his own catch, three plump hares. “Luckily, tonight you are right.” They returned to camp with grins on their faces, but the somber atmosphere and the serious looks their friends threw them brought them up short. “What is it?” Robin asked.
Alan’s shoulders slumped, “According to the villagers, there have been more children reported missing. John thinks it may be that the slave traders are back.”
Robin sighed, his good mood now gone, “We need to find them and put a stop to this once and for all.”
Will shuddered, his face turning white as parchment as he remembered his own experience with slavers. He nodded in agreement. “Luckily, we have two excellent trackers with us.” He said looking pointedly at Alan and John.
John nodded, “I’ll change to wolf form and search out a trail. I will check back when I find any solid leads.”
Robin hesitated, “John, is that a good idea? Can you…can you control your temper?”
John’s already russet colored skin turned red, “I have learned a lot in my time with you, Robin. I will not lose myself to the beast.” He had feared changing ever since Robin and Will had met him, only transforming when the need became too strong to ignore.
Robin clapped him on the shoulder, “Okay my friend. Be safe.” John nodded and headed into the trees to change.
Alan turned to Robin, “I will stay closer to camp but I will remain on guard. If I notice anything out of the ordinary I will tell you immediately. This is a dangerous time for us all.”
Robin nodded to him, “Thank you.” He took the hares to the friar to be skinned and cooked for dinner.
Will planned to chop firewood, though they already had enough for the night’s fire. He liked to chop wood when he was worried, but Alan beckoned to him, “Walk with me for a bit, Will. I would like to speak with you.”
Will shrugged and joined Alan as he walked toward the perimeter of the camp about thirty feet away from the fire. He smiled at the realization that just a few weeks ago he would have been scared to walk alone with Alan for fear that the vampire had ulterior motives.
However Alan had proven to be a true friend who mostly drained animals for the blood he needed and had shown time and again that he would never hurt Robin or any of his men. Will noted John’s clothing folded neatly on the ground and made a mental note to bring something to cover them with, to keep them from getting damp. He turned to see Alan studying him and he lifted an eyebrow, wondering what his friend was thinking about.
“Tell me, Will, if it is not too painful a memory,” Alan finally said. “Why are you so afraid of slave traders?”
Will froze, swallowing back the bile burning his throat. He took long calming breaths, reminding himself that he was among friends and then he lifted his shirt and turned to show Alan his back. The vampire gasped and Will knew that he was surprised at the ugly raised welts that criss-crossed his back from his shoulders down to the line of his waist. ones on the backs of his thighs remained hidden.
Turning back to his friend, and lowering the shirt gingerly at the memory of the pain, he explained, “My father couldn’t afford the sheriff’s taxes so his guards took me and sold me as a slave to pay what we owed. I was taken to the city and sold in the town square. It was…humiliating.” He admitted, shuddering again as the awful memories assaulted him. “I was sixteen at the time and strong, so I was bought as a laborer.”
He stared off into the distance, lost in his memories. “We were harvesting the northern edge of Sherwood Forest for lumber to be made into fancy furniture for the sheriff. I chopped down trees and split logs from dawn until dusk for nearly nine months.”
Alan stared at him in shock, “But you always volunteer to chop firewood and cut down trees. If I had known it held such painful memories, I would have offered to do it for you.”
Will shook his head, “No. Chopping wood comforts me, all that time when I was laboring as a slave, I was chopping trees and splitting logs at the command of someone else. Now I do it because I choose to, no one is standing over me with a whip in case I decide to take a break.”
Alan was the one who shuddered this time. He laid a hand on his friend’s shoulder, “I still don’t understand how you can find comfort in doing what you were forced to do for so long.”
Will swallowed and looked off into the forest once more, seeing the boy that he had been years ago. “Because when I was chopping with that big axe, it was the one time that I didn’t have to fear the sting of the whip.” He whispered, “As long as I was doing my job they left me alone. Besides,” he added with a shrug. “I think maybe they were afraid I would lose my cool and decide to chop them instead of the wood.”
Alan laughed at Will’s attempt at lightheartedness. He draped his arm over his shoulders, “I am glad that you have found some peace after your troubled past. Tell me, how is it that you are no longer a slave.”
Will grinned up at him, “Robin came home.” At Alan’s confused look, Will explained. “Robin was the Lord of Loxley, the small township that my father and I lived in. When Robin joined King Richard on his holy crusades, the sheriff put one of his own men in charge of the township. Almost immediately taxes were raised and people started going hungry. Robin had always been a kind lord, but with the sheriff’s henchman we feared his temper. He had many men hanged just for annoying him.”
Alan looked aghast and Will nodded, “Loxley had been driven into the dust by the time I was sold. When Robin came home, he was appalled at the state of his township, but even worse at how tormented his people were. He threw the sheriff’s man out of Loxley and then my father went to him, pleading for Robin to find me.”
“After tracking me down, Robin paid my ‘owner’ twice what the man had paid for me, then he took me home and set me free.” Will lifted the sleeve of his arm, revealing the brand that had marked him for three years. It looked like a sideways ‘S’ with a line through it and a circle around the whole thing. “I may be free now, but I will always wear the mark and the scars of a slave.”
Alan shook his head, amazed by the strength his new friend had demonstrated. Though he had lived as a piece of property and been beaten repeatedly, he did not use it as an excuse for bitterness nor had he allowed his spirit to be broken.
Looking at Will with a newfound respect, Alan asked, “So what made you go with Robin instead of staying home with your father?”
Will tried to hide the pain that the question caused within him, but he could see from the softening expression on Alan’s face that his friend had seen enough. Clearing his throat Will answered, “The sheriff decided that Robin had defied him one too many times…He had refused to turn over three boys, the youngest of which was only twelve, to be hanged for thievery. The sheriff sent his men to arrest Robin, but the whole township stood to defend him. My father was foremost in the ranks of men willing to fight for Robin, the man who had brought his son back to him. The guards showed no mercy. They killed many men, women and children.”
“We had to lock Robin in a room in his manor to keep him from giving himself up to the sheriff just to prevent more bloodshed. My father was among the first to fall in Robin’s defense.” Though there was terrible pain in the memory, his eyes glittered with pride for his father’s loyalty and bravery.
Wiping a tear from his eye, he shrugged, “When there was a lull in the battle, my best friend, Andrus, and I released Robin from the room and dragged him into the woods. The plan was that once we were gone, the townsfolk could let the guards through to search the house, and their search would be fruitless. We later discovered that the sheriff’s men burned the manor and many of the homes in Loxley to the ground.” Alan stared, disturbed by the images as Will continued his tale.
“A small group of patrolling guards saw us but rather than raising the alarm they chased us alone into the woods. When they caught up to us, we fought hard and defeated them. Andrus was mortally wounded and without a doctor’s help…he died later, after three days of fever. Then it was just Robin and me. My father was dead; our township was no longer safe, so Robin was kind enough to let me stay with him.”
Alan shook his head, once again amazed at all his young friend had endured. “I am sorry for your loss,” He said sincerely. Will nodded his thanks and continued, “That was two years ago, Robin and I have been scraping out a living, traveling from town to town, trying to find some way to stop the sheriff's cruelty. Last year Robin came up with the idea to stop the tax wagons from getting through. We knew this would get the sheriff in trouble with the prince and he may be replaced, but it hasn’t happened yet. Not long after we decided on that course of action, we met John.”
They had made a complete circuit of the perimeter. Will noticed John’s clothes again and once more reminded himself to get a tarp to cover them.
“Thank you for sharing your story with me, Will.” Alan said, “It is good to have friends again to share thoughts and experiences with.”
“What about you?” Will asked, “You said you’re ninety-three. What have you seen in your long life?”
Alan gave him a sad smile, “I don’t think we have time for me to tell that story. It is getting late. But one thing I can tell you is that in your twenty years you have seen nearly as much pain and loss as I have in my long, long life. Being your friend, this saddens me. I pray that your life will be long and happy from this point forward.”
Will smiled his thanks, wondering about the story his friend was keeping to himself, but he felt closer to Alan now that he had shared his own story. He felt confident that in time Alan would be ready to share as well. He headed into the camp and found a tightly woven canvas tarp that the friar had used to cover his barrels of ale. He went back to John’s clothes and laid them on the tarp, draping it over the top of the clothes so that if it rained they would not get wet.
With this task done, he headed back to the camp and grabbed his axe. After reliving his past with Alan, he needed to feel the calm that came when he was swinging the axe in the comfortingly repetitive motion. He had explained it as best he could, but he wondered how anyone that had not lived with the terror of a whip poised to strike at the slightest hesitation, would ever be able to understand what it felt like.
As he chopped wood, Will watched Robin whittling new arrows for his quiver. He thought about all the pain his friend had endured, first coming home to find his home taken over by the sheriff’s man, and then watching his people starve. He teased Will about his kind heart, but Robin’s own kindness had led to a lot of pain, including losing his home and the lives of many friends, in his efforts to do the right thing. Will looked up to Robin who had become like a big brother, a role model for him. He wondered if he would ever be as good a man as the one the sheriff referred to as ‘Robin Hood.’
Athyn was cold and hungry. He had expected Ashlyn to find him by now and though he wouldn’t admit it, he was scared. Standing, he brushed the dirt and dead leaves from his pants and looked around. It was still a little bit light out and he thought that maybe he could find his way back to the clearing that he had left Ashlyn in. Beginning to worry that some wild animal might have found her while she was unconscious, he felt a wave of guilt at having left her all alone.
Making a guess as to the right direction, he tried to walk in a straight line, a task that was much easier said than done in the woods. After a few moments without any sign of the clearing, he was just about to come to the conclusion that he had gone in the wrong direction when he heard voices. Excited, he decided that he must have finally found civilization and now he could get help finding his sister.
He stepped out of the trees into another clearing with a small campfire in the center. There was something roasting over the fire. Suddenly he realized that this was the delicious scent he had smelled earlier. Three large men looked up at him as he stepped tentatively into their camp.
Immediately he was struck by the feeling that coming here had been a bad idea. Then one of the men grinned at him. “Hey boy, are you hungry?” Athyn’s stomach rumbled in response and the men laughed. They beckoned to a log near the fire. “Have a seat,” the man said. “We were just about to eat.”
He felt the urge to run away; the hairs on the back of his neck bristled. He knew that he was not safe here, but he was so hungry. It had been a very long time since breakfast. He had a feeling his stomach was about to start digesting itself if he didn’t eat something soon. He stepped tentatively over to the log and sat, taking the strip of meat that the man held toward him. Eating in silence he marveled at how good something roasted over a campfire could taste. One of the men stood and stepped over to a nearby tree.
Athyn eyed him warily but the man who had spoken to him asked if he wanted more meat, and he turned his attention back to the food being offered. As he reached for the strip of meat, he heard the sound of footsteps behind him. He turned in time to see a large branch swinging towards his head. He didn’t have time to cry out before he felt a sharp pain. Darkness quickly clouded his vision. He gave into the darkness, eager to escape the pain in his head.
When Ashlyn woke, she noticed two things rather quickly. First she was definitely not in the museum anymore. She was surrounded by towering green trees with thick pointed leaves, the chirping of crickets, the buzz of insects and other sounds of a forest in the evening filled her ears. The sun was setting. She couldn’t hear a single human sound. There were no car engines or stereos or mothers yelling at their children, anywhere. Looking around she noticed the second thing, she was entirely alone. Athyn was nowhere to be seen. Jumping to her feet she fought the surge of panic that shot through her making her stomach clench. Forcing herself to think calmly, she started searching for him and calling out, “Athyn! Athyn where are you?”
She fought an inner battle between being angry that he had wandered off and being frightened for his safety. She called for him, struggling not to give into fear. After a few moments with no response, her panic won out and she began running through the darkening forest. “Athyn! This is no time for hide and seek, Kiddo! Come on out so we can figure out how to get home.” She yelled until her voice was hoarse still she ran. Her heart was sinking lower and lower, and she felt like she might cry, be sick and scream all at once. What kind of big sister was she? She had lost her little brother in the middle of the woods, at night. He could be eaten by wild animals. He could be all alone, scared and bleeding to death somewhere. Every horrifying possibility made her run faster and farther, in spite of her inability to call out any longer and the fact that she couldn’t see past her nose.
Tears streamed down her face. Sobbing as she rounded a huge tree, she came face to face with a giant animal with glowing amber eyes and dripping fangs. The animal was black as the night and stood as high as her shoulder. She almost plowed into it but managed to turn aside at the last moment. Her heart nearly stopped as the animal growled at her, and she heard twigs snapping as it started toward her. Turning around as quickly as she could, she plunged back into the trees running even faster than before, praying for the darkness to swallow her up and protect her from the beast behind her. Suddenly a branch seemed to appear out of nowhere. She saw a flash of light and felt a sharp pain on her head before her vision faded and the darkness consumed her. Her last thought was of her brother, all alone in the dark woods and how sad he would be when he found out that she’d been eaten by wild animals.
John had been just about to turn and head back to camp when the girl appeared. He automatically called to her before realizing that he was in wolf form so his call sounded dangerous and threatening. As she ran from him, he instinctively started toward her and cringed when he heard the sharp crack as she ran headfirst into a low hanging branch. He was horrified by having caused her injury. He shifted back quickly, not worried about his lack of clothing since the only other human around was unconscious. Kneeling beside the girl he saw that she was utterly unconscious. She had a pretty big knot on her forehead and he imagined she would be out cold for quite a while.
Sighing, he lifted her into his arms effortlessly and carried her for the eighteen kilometers back to camp, running as quickly as he could with the awkward burden in his arms. Stopping at the spot where he had left his clothing, he saw that someone had covered his clothes with a tarp to keep them dry. He smiled, knowing that this was obviously an act of Will’s kindness. Will was always the first to think of others, and John knew that he at least would understand why he had brought the girl back to camp. Laying her carefully on the damp grass, John quickly pulled on his clothes and lifted her once more into his arms, using the tarp to protect the girl from the light mist that permeated the air.
When he reached the camp he was met with the reception he had expected. Robin looked the girl over thoughtfully, Will was immediately concerned for her well being, the friar retreated to the campfire to work on dinner while throwing worried glances over his shoulder, and Alan went ballistic.
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