by Marianne
Robin Hood is dead. Robin Hood is dead. The words echoed throughout Sherwood, beating down like driven rain. Robin Hood is dead. The towns folk in Nottingham heard. The villagers in Wickham heard and the great forest itself heard. Robin Hood is dead.
The knight ran his finger over the map, tracing out the place names — Wessex, Dorset, Northumberland. The towns — London, Chester, Nottingham. The landmarks — The Wall, the Dyke, the Forest. The legends — Ghosts, Wild hunts, Dragons.
"Here be dragons," he read the words out loud. "Dragons in the west, dragons in the north and..." he peered close at the map, at the tiny inscription in one corner covered by forest. "And dragons near Nottingham."
The map was rolled up tightly and replaced in the saddlebag. The spear was picked up and the point examined closely before being slid into the holder on the right of the saddle. The reflection in the polished metal of the mirror showed that armour gleamed. The knight swung himself into the decorated saddle and grasped the bridal reins. "To Nottingham — Sherwood — Dark Mere!"
Much stood at the edge of the marsh land. The trees hung low here, casting the area into dark shadows. Mist hung over the area. He moved into the shade, feeling his heart begin to pound.
He forced himself onwards, until when he looked back he couldn't see the green of Sherwood through the swirling mists. The boy held his staff tightly, watchful for...
Dragons! There are no dragons at Dark Mere," Robin laughed. "It's just stories. Tales to frighten children away."
"But I've seen them," Much said earnestly."
"You've seen fallen trees half hidden in the gloom."
"I've heard them," Much insisted.
"Branches falling into the marsh. Frogs, crickets," Robin threw a brotherly arm around Much's shoulders. "Sounds get distorted in the mist."
"So, there's no dragons then?"
"Not at Dark Mere. I promise."
And Robin always kept his promises. Until...
"I shall be with you later," he had told Much. "I promise."
Only he hadn't kept that promise. He had died and Much had yet to forgive him for that.
Nasir had brought the news.
"What do you mean gone?" Will demanded.
Nasir just shrugged, and turned away.
"Little flower," Tuck sighed. "She couldn't stay. Not now."
"Well it's all right for her," Will snarled. "Daddy buys her a pardon and life goes on."
"Easy Will," John tried to calm him. "I don't think life is going on for her."
Much grabbed his staff and walked out of the camp. He knew there would be another argument, that Will and John would end up shouting, Tuck stood between them, trying to get them to calm down. Nasir would walk off. Marion had tried to keep the peace, but tears came too easily.
At first Much walked blindly, then realising how close he was to Dark Mere he made his way there purposefully, determined to find the dragons that Robin had promised didn't exist.
Much knelt down, tracing the outline of the footprint with his fingers. "Well, that ain't no rabbit," he muttered to himself. He walked on, deeper into the marsh.
Much jumped as he heard a splash behind him, he whirled round, staff at the ready. As the mists swirled he saw a half submerged shape and then it was gone.
"Dragon," he breathed.
Listening carefully he heard nothing. "Safe to move I reckon," he said quietly to himself. Only looking around Much realised he wasn't sure where to move. "Well, long as I walks in a straight line I'll come out the other end," he told himself. If the Dragons don't get you first.
He walked quietly, alert for any signs of movement, constantly checking behind him. Once, when glancing over his shoulder he thought he saw a giant yellow eye peering at him through the mist.
Much started to run, sure that the dragon was only paces behind him.
Then he heard the sound. It was a bit like wings, but... Much remembered the time he'd gone into the cave just as the sun went down. Hundreds of bats had flown out all around him, filling the cave with the sound of their wings moving against the air. This was a bit like that, only slower.
Much stopped walking and his breathing turned to hurried gasps. Slowly he turned around. His mouth opened wide and his eyes seemed to fill his face. Too terrified to scream he could only stare at back at the huge yellow eyes. The smell of the dragon twined around the boy like mist, a thick, cloying smell of decay.
The dragon folded its wings along its dark back and twisted its head on one side opening its mouth to reveal two rows of sharp pointed teeth. A forked tongue flicked out. Much whimpered as the dragon seemed to smile. It was not a kind smile. It raised a foreleg reaching the hooked talons towards the boy.
"For England!" The knight ran forward putting his weight behind the lance, running the tip deep beneath the dragons scales.
The dragon reared back and opened its wings, their black canvas covering the area.
"Quick boy — pass my sword!"
Much stumbled towards the sword the knight had let fall in his haste to reach the dragon. "Here," He held out the sword.
Taking the sword the knight moved quickly, ducking under the waving legs of the dragon he trust the sword deep into the dragon's heart.
The dragons death cry echoed though Dark Mere. Much felt the sound envelop him, clutching at his arms, his legs, penetrating his very soul. The pain, the sadness and the terror all mixed up with the sense of loss. As the sound died away the dragon collapsed, it shimmered slightly before fading into the mist. On the ground lay the lance and sword.
The knight stooped to collect his weapons. He held a hand out to Much. "Thank you for your help."
"Someone once told me there weren't any dragons in Dark Mere," Much told the knight.
"There aren't any now," the knight said with a slight smile. "I promise."
Much said nothing.
"You are supposed to say something along the lines of 'that's all right then,'" the knight told him.
"I said that once before," Much said, looking the knight straight in the eyes. "Only it wasn't."
"Much!" Tuck exclaimed, "where have you been?"
"Dark Mere. Where's Will?"
John shrugged. "Gone."
Nasir stood close to Much. "Dark Mere. Hunting dragons?"
"There aren't any dragons at Dark Mere. Not now," Much told him quietly.
Nasir nodded, a smile crossing his face briefly. He went and untied his horse, swinging himself lightly into the saddle. When John, Tuck and Much looked at him he bowed to them. None of them made a move to stop him as he rode off.
"What now?" Tuck asked, crossing his arms. "Food?"
"Much," John leaned heavily on his staff. "I've 'ad a thought..."
The knight spread the map out, the light parchment showing up clearly against the dark wood of the table. Reaching for the quill he dipped it into the ink and gently scored through the small inscription. He sanded down the correction before rolling the map up again.
"You'll be leaving now then?"
The knight turned to face the man who had just entered the hall. "Richard. Yes. Thank you for your hospitality."
"Anytime George, you know that. You're welcome to stay longer."
"Thank you, but I think you have your own affairs to deal with," he nodded toward the woman who had followed Richard of Leaford into the hall.
Sir Richard sighed. "Marion," he whispered.
The knight galloped along the track. Ahead he saw a lone man, standing across the path, twin swords crossed in front of his chest. Waiting.
The knight pulled the reins towards him, stopping beside the man. "What do you want?" He asked.
"Dragons," Nasir said.
"Dragons eh?" The knight thought for a moment, weighing up the man. He came to a decision. "I understand Wales promises to be a good hunting ground."
THE END