Chapter Seven: Questions

Gisbourne's men untied Robin from the table and laid him on the bed. His wrists and ankles were tied to the posts. The men left after that, and Robin was alone with Gisbourne, again.

"I dreamed about you last night, Locksley," said Gisbourne, taking off his gloves.

"I'm flattered," said Robin, flatly.

"I can show you what it was about," commented Gisbourne, as he shrugged off his jacket.

"I'd really rather you not," replied Robin, noticing Gisbourne was now bare from the waist up.

"Another time," decided Gisbourne.

Robin dreamed that night.

Of hands and mouths and bodies surrounding him, on him, hurting him. He screamed at the intense pain growing beneath his belly and tried to get away from it, but there were too many of them. Loud moans of pleasure filled the air, as the men used his body to fulfill their twisted need. The smell of blood permeated the room. Robin could feel it. It ran thick down the backs of his legs to the floor and onto the men assaulting him. Their harsh laughs rang in his ears, as he begged for them to stop. But it wouldn't stop.

In Sherwood Forest, Marian and Robin's gang planned a trip to Nottingham Castle.

"Are you sure that's where Robin is?" asked Much.

"Yeah," said Allan, "where else would 'e be?"

"I don't know," said Much, "but we don't have any proof he's at the castle!"

"It's still a likely possibility, Much," said Will.

Much nodded slowly.

"You're right," he said.

Before they set out for Nottingham, Much pulled Marian aside.

"He was looking very forward to seeing you today, Marian," said Much, "its odd, him not showing up."

"He said that?" asked Marian, in surprise.

"Of course he didn't say it," said Much, "you know Robin."

They shared a look only they understood.

"I guess I do," she said.

"I hope he's someplace safe," said Much.

"Me, too."

Robin was in fact, as far from "safe" as he could possibly be. Gisbourne had left him to the mercy of his men-again. He almost preferred Gisbourne over this. At least, Gisbourne was just one man who was easily sated. This time, they had him pressed up against an earthen wall, taking turns rutting into him. Robin was so close to the wall, he could have hissed the dirt if he wanted, which he didn't. He wondered how long it'd be before the others tarted to worry. He wondered what Marian was doing. Would she be worried that he never came? Would she ask after him at camp?

Gisbourne had just told the Sheriff of his capture of Robin Hood. The Sheriff was pleased.

"Where is he?" he asked, curiously.

"Locksley. Under the house," replied Gisbourne.

"Why is he there?" asked the Sheriff, "and not here?"

"I'm taking your advice," said Gisbourne, smugly.

"What advice?" asked the Sheriff, failing to recall anything that remotely sounded like advice.

He didn't give advice; he gave demands. Gisbourne reiterated the Sheriff's many comments he'd made about Gisbourne and Locksley.

"Very well, Gisbourne, have your fun with Hood," answered the Sheriff, "but as soon as you are through with him, bring him to the castle. And, do not let him escape!"

"He can't escape," said Gisbourne, "its impossible."

"It better be," warned the Sheriff.