The Queen Of Arrows

Chapter 11 - The Key

Robin raised his hand and let his fist hit the wood. The door trembled under his blows, then he reached for the iron ring and pressed against it. He had expected guards outside the gate or that it was locked? Shouldn't they be more alarmed after the previous thefts...?

"Freeze!"

"One move, and we shoot!"

Blades whirred as they were drawn, and cocked crossbows flashed at them from across the room. Robin paused as if struck by lightning, and Marian almost dropped the box in shock. Roger had jumped up from behind the desk. Beside him stood two guards with crossbows. Beside the door, two more men flanked the room. It was obviously a trap!

'So much for the ingenious plan,' Robin thought tensely. Robin's whole body tensed up. He took a half-step to the side - just enough to put himself in the line of fire of the gunmen and Marian.

Marian's every word that would have come to her - even if her mind could have grasped the situation so quickly - stuck in her throat.

"Got you at last, Hood!"

'How did they know?' wondered Marian, her palms growing cold and clammy. Her mouth went dry as dust.

Then the hook-nosed tax counter's gaze fell on the tabards. And suddenly, his posture changed. "What...?" he muttered, slumping back in the chair with a groan. "Damn. We thought you were the fucking bastard Hood!" Roger wiped his face, and now the other guards loosened up too. The crossbowmen lowered their weapons, and the tension in the room disappeared as if the reins of a steed that was too tight had been released. Two guards even laughed softly as swords were shoved back into scabbards.

Marian emitted an effortfully light laugh though a fist-sized lump was in her throat. It was a nervous, hoarse laugh - yet it seemed treacherously high to her.

Then Robin seemed to regain his composure. "We beg your pardon. We've only come to take the taxes to the treasury," he said, and Marian gave a short strained groan as he lifted the chest more clearly to prove it.

The pent-up anger inside her made her stomach sicken. Animals and confiscated homesteads or land were also noted on the parchment. Marian's fingers gripped the hilt of the sword dangling at her side tighter, burying her fingernails in the soft leather of the handle in frustration. They really did take everything from people.

'You're going to hell for this.'

"Put it there," Roger ordered, and Marian rounded the side of the table where they set the chest down on the floor. "What do you look like, anyway? Your tabard is all askew."

Marian cast an uneasy sideways glance at the guards. Their camouflage had caused them to drop all caution. One was pouring himself and one of his cronies something from a jug - probably a watered-down ale, for they would not dare drink properly after the sheriff's threat.

Robin was bending down to open the lid of the chest.

>>Clack<<

Robin froze.

The chest was locked.

Robin gaped at the heavy iron lock, the thick hinges, and the iron straps. A cold sweat came to his forehead.

"Come on, give me the key." The counter held out his hand.

The disguised Marian stared down at Robin from the outstretched palm. He looked back, and they both had the same thought, 'Key?!'

Oh no. They had not searched the guards! Their eyes cast silent words from one to the other, and for a brief moment of awkward silence, it was as if they were arguing with each other in their minds.

'What key?'

'How should I know!'

'Was there a key?'

'How could you have missed it!'

"What are you waiting for?" snarled Roger next to Robin.

Marian's mind raced, panicking for a solution. There was always a way, always a possibility. What could they say to make up for this stupid mistake?

"What's taking so long?" Roger was slowly but noticeably losing patience.

'What do we do now?' asked Robin's rushed look.

Marian didn't know the answer. She opened and closed her mouth again without a word passing her lips. Should they run? Say they had lost the key?

"The chest... the lock seems to be jammed," Robin probably picked up the same snippets of thought as Marian.

Now one of the other guards turned and approached Robin - probably to see the problem.

Then Robin's eyes met Marian's again. And they both realized that there was only one option. Damn it.

"Give me the key. It's probably just stuck," the man said and bent down to help Robin with the stubborn furniture.

Then the man took half a step aside, and his fingers closed around the metal handle. Then he grabbed it with his second hand and pulled the chest up with all his might. Hard wood and iron hit the guard's helmet. A loud >>clonk!<< resounded through the room; the guard fell over to the side and lay motionless.

Robin wasted no time. Even as Roger's eyes widened and realization drenched his features in bewilderment, Robin was already reaching his side. He took the perplexed-looking count master by surprise with ease. An iron grip on the back of his neck, and with a loud thud, he hurled Rogers onto the tabletop. There was a loud rumble, piles of coins falling over and rattling. Silver thalers rolled off the top and whirred across the floor to their feet.

"It's Hood!"

The first guard attacked Robin with a mighty swipe of his sword, but Robin deftly dodged and countered with a swift blow to the attacker's hand. Immediately the guard dropped his sword and cried out in pain. Robin seized the opportunity and delivered a well-aimed kick to the guard's ribcage, hurling him to the ground.

The sound rattled as one of the gunmen dropped his cup and rushed to grab his crossbow. Marian, however, was quicker. Her fingers were rigid with panic as she gripped the wood and jerked the crossbow around. The iron tip of the bolt was aimed directly at the guard's chest. All it would have taken was one movement of her finger, pull, and shoot.

The guard's eyes snapped open. No doubt, he thought he was facing his death at that moment. He staggered back a step and bumped into his comrade. Harshly, he shoved him out of the way and, in turn, jerked his crossbow upwards.

Marian pulled the crossbow down in the heat of the moment and pulled the trigger. The projectile shot off and pierced the attacker's boot like a needle through cloth. The guard cried out, jerked his own gun up, and pulled the trigger. The bolt shot away and bored into the wooden ceiling with a dull sound. Marian seized this opportunity, swung with all his might, and struck with the crossbow.

Metal clanged, and the guard rolled his eyes and fell to the floor like a wet sack. Knowing it would take far too long to reload, Marian threw the crossbow aside - reaching for the sword at her side.