Try Honesty [Tag Much]

[Allan A Dale]

Allan woke up feeling a little bit uncomfortable, but hey, that was his own fault for rolling off his bundle in the middle of the night and wandering outside to sleep under the trees, rather than in the hideout that Will had so skilfully made. It annoyed Robin when he did that, because it made it easier for people to figure out that their hideout was nearby (if Allan was caught), and it annoyed everyone else because he always left the door open and the cold got in, blowing the fire out. He did try his best to wind them up – that way he got some conversation out of them. There was a severe lack of it lately; none of the outlaws seemed to communicate, they all just buggered off to God only knew where and nothing seemed to happen. It was almost like they weren’t even there.

Sitting up slowly, trying to ignore the pain at the base of his spine (a frequent friend and a reminder that he really needed to get used to sleeping outdoors again), he yawned a little and looked around him. The small door of the camp, the one used when one didn’t want to make a big, flashy entrance or exit and when one didn’t want to fill the hideout with leaves, was closed firmly shut – either someone had gotten up after him and closed it, or they’d gone out and closed it behind them. Maybe that’s why his sides were a bit sore, actually – he was fairly sure Little John gave him a kick when he was asleep once or twice, but as he could sleep through pretty much anything, he didn’t have proof. Besides, he could have just rolled over on to a tree root. It happened.

A barely woken up Allan was a little bit of a grouchy Allan, but he pushed himself off the ground and went into the camp, looking for something to nibble on while he tried to remember what he was supposed to be doing today. It didn’t look like many people were around – in fact, it only looked like Much was still in the camp, and he appeared to be fast asleep. Shrugging, he tried to ignore the little voice that was muttering to him, telling him that he needed to be more open if he wanted them to be more open, and shoved down the voice that told him at least Guy had talked to him. He found a carrot lying on one of the surfaces and snagged it – while he wasn’t fond of vegetables, he still ate it because it was there and he was hungry. As he nibbled, he grabbed his sword (he’d left it inside last night, he couldn’t be bothered to try and climb around Djaq to get to it without disturbing her) and wandered back outside.

He was supposed to be visiting Kate today, wasn’t he? It wasn’t a delivery day, but Allan found himself spending more and more time going to visit the young seamstress, finding her company entertaining and definitely pleasant. And since no one else was around to tell him otherwise, who was to stop him anyway? Finishing off the carrot, he chucked the very top (which he always found tasted disgusting) over his shoulder, secured his weapon and headed off to Knighton.

At least he was doing something he enjoyed, right?

[Much]

Much was always a heavy sleeper, so the moment of the camp that morning hadn’t disturbed him. He was on a mini strike. If he was going to be kept awake by the rambling of the other outlaws he wasn’t going to get up and make them breakfast. They could go and d whatever it was they pleased.

Like a sixth sense however when Allan entered his kitchen and stole the carrot he was awake in a flash. It didn’t matter that he could have done with another hour or two of sleep. The man was in his kitchen and he no longer cared about the sleep loss, he wanted the idiot out of his kitchen. But he had a bigger plan for the ex-traitor. He was about to find out where he kept disappearing too, claiming he was getting water then returning with nothing. At least he did last time.

Having the carrot top fly in his general direction was the final thing that made his decision, Much waited until he could no longer hear the other outlaws footsteps and launched into action. He grabbed his over shirt, his unless sweater that he loved regardless of it’s inability to keep him warm, and his broad sword before marching off, silently, in the direction Allan had gone. Keeping a fair distance away from him and behind a few trees.

Why was he heading in the general direction of Knighton and Locksley? Quite which village he didn’t know, but he was highly doubtful it would be Locksley because of it’s current lord. But if he was spying, like Much had suspected but had not believed because he wanted to trust the man again. He really did, even if it didn’t seem that way.

He willed him to go to Knighton, to not confirm his fears. But what the hell did he have to go to in the place? A short, blonde village girl would be the last thing he would expect.