Fic: Hope for Healing - Chapter 13
Title: Hope for Healing - Chapter 13
Author: wastingyourgum
Characters/Pairings: Robin, Djaq, Little John, Sheriff Vaizey, Guy, Daniel
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Drama, Angst
Words: 1961
Disclaimer: BBC & TA own anything you find familiar.
Notes: Thank you to my wonderful betas jagnikjen and robinfanatic - You think I torture LJ? You have no idea! ;)
Summary: Robin and Djaq finally head towards Nottingham but Vaizey decides he wants a private hanging...
>>>------------------------------>
Previous Chapter
>>>------------------------------>
CHAPTER 13
"Are you sure that will be enough?"
Djaq closed her eyes and took a deep breath before answering. "Yes, Robin. I am sure... and I cannot carry too much if we have to do any climbing to get into the castle."
"No, you're right. I'm sorry."
Djaq finished carefully packing her bag and turned to face Robin. He was pacing back and forth in the camp like a caged animal, as he had been for most of the day. Djaq had tried her best not to let his anxiety get to her while she painstakingly prepared the potions she thought may be the most useful. The problem was that a fever could be a symptom of so many things.
"Ready?" He was half-way out of the door before she answered.
"Yes." She slung the bag over her shoulder and followed him, closing the camp door behind them.
They set off at a brisk pace towards Nottingham...
>>>------------------------------>
"Ah, Gisborne." Vaizey looked up as Guy joined him in front of the locked dungeon door. "All sorted with the saddler?"
"Yes, my Lord. The new tack will be delivered next week." Guy took out the key, unlocked the door and then stood back to allow the sheriff to enter first.
"Excellent. Shall we proceed to our other business of the day then?"
"Yes, my Lord." Guy followed Vaizey and locked the door behind them. "I don't think he's going to break, my Lord."
"Everybody breaks, Gisborne. Even your friend Lambert eventually gave up that ledger - though sadly to Hood and not me." Vaizey stopped half-way down the stairs and looked back up at Guy, his eyes narrowing. "Hmm... I wonder if we could persuade your boy to stage a fake 'rescue'. Convince the brute he's swapped sides again; get him to show him where the new camp is - so he can take him safely home, of course..."
"What about the witch?" Guy asked. "Allan knows nothing of her - what if the outlaw talks?"
"Surely if that were a concern, Gisborne, you wouldn't be sneaking the old crone in to tend to your leper, would you?" Vaizey suddenly rounded on him, poking his finger into Guy's stomach.
Guy quickly looked down, avoiding the sheriff's glare. Damn!
"Since Marian is almost recovered, and our friend down here is almost dead, I don't think there's any reason for Matilda to see either of them again - do you?"
"No, my Lord."
"No - and no reason for anyone else to see her either. She stays in that room - am I clear?"
"Yes, my Lord."
"Good. Now, let's go break the good news... and maybe some more fingers," Vaizey chuckled.
Guy followed the sheriff down the rest of the stairs and along to the cell...
"Afternoon!"
John's eyes flicked up briefly but quickly glanced away again. The smug look on Vaizey's face did not bode well.
"I have some good news for you."
I doubt it...
"We decided you should get your hanging after all! In a manner of speaking anyway - we had you hanging most of yesterday already, didn't we?"
Gisborne and the guard stood to each side of John. They grabbed each of his wrists with one hand and put the other under each of his arms and hauled him to his feet.
John gritted his teeth but couldn't stop a small grunt of pain escaping his lips. He quietly seethed at the look of satisfaction on Vaizey's face at the sound.
Gisborne and the guard stumbled with him to the cell door then guided him down the stairs into the main area. To John's surprise they passed under the dreaded hook from yesterday and moved further back into the less well lit corner of the room, furthest from the stairs. John had always been facing the stairs and had not had a chance to get a good look at that part of the room before. As Vaizey moved in front of them with the torch, John finally got to see the last piece of equipment in the dungeon.
The table was a large slab of oak, stained dark over years of use. It was tilted so one end was about two feet higher than the other. Thick iron bands were placed near the corners and on the sides in the middle. Near the top end there were two holes quite close together with a length of rough hemp rope running between them. The rest of the rope hung down under the table and had large knots at each end.
John struggled but could only put up a token resistance as Gisborne and the guard manhandled him so he was lying on the table, on his back, with his arms by his sides. They removed his manacles and the guard secured the bands round his ankles while Gisborne placed those in the middle of the table around John's wrists.
Gisborne pushed John's head aside and pulled the loop of rope up until the knots on either end banged against the underside of the table. He then pulled it down over John's head and dropped it. The weight of the knots on either end held the rope snugly under John's chin but he was still able to breathe... for now.
"I'm sure even a brute like you can work out what this does - but just in case..." Vaizey nodded at Gisborne who demonstrated the effectiveness of the position by grabbing one of the knots under the table and pulling it. The rope dragged across John's neck until the other knot hit the underside of the table and held fast. The rope then bit up into John's throat as it tightened, choking him. It was like being hanged while lying down.
John bucked and strained against the metal bands at his wrists and ankles as the blood roared in his ears. Suddenly the pressure across his windpipe lifted and he coughed as he gasped in precious air.
"You see the problem with hanging," Vaizey explained. "Other than you can usually only do it once - is that there's no way to adjust the pressure, since it's your body weight pulling you against the rope - it's all or nothing. This way Gisborne can tighten that rope as and when he likes." Vaizey looked up and signalled again. This time Gisborne grabbed the other knot and John felt the rope rasping back across his neck in the other direction, before once more crushing into his throat.
"I've heard that it's possible to hang a man just long enough so you kill the mind without killing the body." Vaizey's voice cut through the pounding in John's ears. "Be interesting to see if we can do that."
The pressure eased and John felt the leather of Gisborne's glove against the side of his neck as Gisborne dug his fingers under the rope and lifted it away. It was red and slick with skin and blood from John's neck.
"What do you think, Gisborne? If he persists in this stubbornness... Kill his mind and keep him around as a big brainless pet?" Vaizey nodded again and John gasped in a quick breath before the rope snapped tight for the third time. It was like a line of fire searing across his neck. "Just think," Vaizey whispered in John's ear. "I could have my very own dancing bear..."
God, no... anything but that... just let it stop... please...
The rope loosened. "Where is Hood's camp?"
I can't... I mustn't... John screwed his eyes shut as the rope bit in hard again.
"Tell me," Vaizey coaxed.
The ravine, a mile southwest of Dead Man's Crossing... John gasped for air as the rope slackened off. Just tell him... It'll all stop...
"Come on... You already showed me it once before... Hood must have been thrilled to get back there to find you'd brought me right to it and then let a couple of children overpower you..."
Just tell him... Robin's not coming... You did what you could... You're no more use anyway...
"This time he won't even know it was you who told me - he already thinks you're dead after all..."
"Marian knows you're here"... Robin will know... He'll know! Allan's never given up the camp - he'll know it was you! Traitor! John closed his mouth again and shook his head slowly from side to side.
There was an exasperated tut from Vaizey and the rope tightened again. This time it stayed taut long past when it had been released before.
No! Not like this... God, please...
John thrashed frantically but his limbs grew heavier and heavier as everything faded to blackness...
>>>------------------------------>
Djaq halted instantly as Robin held up his hand. They both dropped into a crouch and Djaq remained still, listening intently as Robin slowly drew an arrow and fitted it to his bow.
She turned her head to look behind them as she heard what had alerted Robin - someone was running through the trees towards them, down the same trail they were on. Robin signalled to some bushes off to their left and Djaq crawled into them as quietly as possible as Robin ducked behind a tree on the other side of the trail. She lowered her bag carefully to the ground and put her hand on the hilt of her sword, ready to draw it once their pursuer made him or herself known.
He was such a small figure and was running so fast that he was almost past them before either of them recognised him.
Robin stepped out from his hiding place and called after him. "Daniel!"
The young boy from Locksley spun on his heels so quickly he fell over in a tangle of limbs.
Djaq and Robin both hurried to pick him up and dust him off.
"Robin!" Daniel was red in the face. He held his side as he spoke. "Locksley... threshing floor... Abbie Weaver's... youngest... flail... cut her head..." he panted out between breaths.
Abbie Weaver's youngest... a girl who would be about three years of age if Djaq recalled correctly. She put her hands on Daniel's shoulders. "Stand up straight, Daniel. Take deep breaths."
Daniel put his hands on his hips and did as instructed.
"Now, again... and more slowly please."
"Issy Weaver, Abbie's youngest - she wandered off while Abbie was hanging out skeins and she got too close to the men on the threshing floor. One of them hit her on a back swing before they even knew she was there. Her head's wide open. I said I'd come find you. You weren't at the camp so..." Daniel looked from Djaq to Robin as if surprised neither of them had moved yet. "She's... she's not dead - but her heart is very faint," he added.
Djaq nodded. "Thank you, Daniel." She collected her bag from the bushes before meeting Robin's eyes.
Robin glanced up the trail in the direction of Nottingham and then back towards Locksley. His gaze dropped to the ground and he closed his eyes.
Djaq strongly suspected he was praying.
"You'd better take us to her, Daniel," Robin finally said.
"Robin, you could take these medicines to Nottingham while I go to Locksley," Djaq suggested.
"No, nobody goes anywhere on their own. Not me to Nottingham and not you to Locksley... and I wouldn't want to risk giving Marian the wrong thing." He took a deep breath. "Marian has others to look after her - I shall have to trust to them. Issy Weaver only has you."
Robin turned to Daniel. "Run ahead and let them know we're coming."
Daniel nodded and sped off through the trees.
"Robin--"
"It's fine, Djaq." He looked once more towards Nottingham before turning back. "It's fine..."
>>>------------------------------>
Next Chapter
>>>------------------------------>
A/N: Any directions in this fic are pulled completely from thin air... I have no idea where the camp is. John wouldn't tell me either... and I was much nicer to him than the sheriff... ;)
Author: wastingyourgum
Characters/Pairings: Robin, Djaq, Little John, Sheriff Vaizey, Guy, Daniel
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Drama, Angst
Words: 1961
Disclaimer: BBC & TA own anything you find familiar.
Notes: Thank you to my wonderful betas jagnikjen and robinfanatic - You think I torture LJ? You have no idea! ;)
Summary: Robin and Djaq finally head towards Nottingham but Vaizey decides he wants a private hanging...
>>>------------------------------>
Previous Chapter
>>>------------------------------>
CHAPTER 13
"Are you sure that will be enough?"
Djaq closed her eyes and took a deep breath before answering. "Yes, Robin. I am sure... and I cannot carry too much if we have to do any climbing to get into the castle."
"No, you're right. I'm sorry."
Djaq finished carefully packing her bag and turned to face Robin. He was pacing back and forth in the camp like a caged animal, as he had been for most of the day. Djaq had tried her best not to let his anxiety get to her while she painstakingly prepared the potions she thought may be the most useful. The problem was that a fever could be a symptom of so many things.
"Ready?" He was half-way out of the door before she answered.
"Yes." She slung the bag over her shoulder and followed him, closing the camp door behind them.
They set off at a brisk pace towards Nottingham...
>>>------------------------------>
"Ah, Gisborne." Vaizey looked up as Guy joined him in front of the locked dungeon door. "All sorted with the saddler?"
"Yes, my Lord. The new tack will be delivered next week." Guy took out the key, unlocked the door and then stood back to allow the sheriff to enter first.
"Excellent. Shall we proceed to our other business of the day then?"
"Yes, my Lord." Guy followed Vaizey and locked the door behind them. "I don't think he's going to break, my Lord."
"Everybody breaks, Gisborne. Even your friend Lambert eventually gave up that ledger - though sadly to Hood and not me." Vaizey stopped half-way down the stairs and looked back up at Guy, his eyes narrowing. "Hmm... I wonder if we could persuade your boy to stage a fake 'rescue'. Convince the brute he's swapped sides again; get him to show him where the new camp is - so he can take him safely home, of course..."
"What about the witch?" Guy asked. "Allan knows nothing of her - what if the outlaw talks?"
"Surely if that were a concern, Gisborne, you wouldn't be sneaking the old crone in to tend to your leper, would you?" Vaizey suddenly rounded on him, poking his finger into Guy's stomach.
Guy quickly looked down, avoiding the sheriff's glare. Damn!
"Since Marian is almost recovered, and our friend down here is almost dead, I don't think there's any reason for Matilda to see either of them again - do you?"
"No, my Lord."
"No - and no reason for anyone else to see her either. She stays in that room - am I clear?"
"Yes, my Lord."
"Good. Now, let's go break the good news... and maybe some more fingers," Vaizey chuckled.
Guy followed the sheriff down the rest of the stairs and along to the cell...
"Afternoon!"
John's eyes flicked up briefly but quickly glanced away again. The smug look on Vaizey's face did not bode well.
"I have some good news for you."
I doubt it...
"We decided you should get your hanging after all! In a manner of speaking anyway - we had you hanging most of yesterday already, didn't we?"
Gisborne and the guard stood to each side of John. They grabbed each of his wrists with one hand and put the other under each of his arms and hauled him to his feet.
John gritted his teeth but couldn't stop a small grunt of pain escaping his lips. He quietly seethed at the look of satisfaction on Vaizey's face at the sound.
Gisborne and the guard stumbled with him to the cell door then guided him down the stairs into the main area. To John's surprise they passed under the dreaded hook from yesterday and moved further back into the less well lit corner of the room, furthest from the stairs. John had always been facing the stairs and had not had a chance to get a good look at that part of the room before. As Vaizey moved in front of them with the torch, John finally got to see the last piece of equipment in the dungeon.
The table was a large slab of oak, stained dark over years of use. It was tilted so one end was about two feet higher than the other. Thick iron bands were placed near the corners and on the sides in the middle. Near the top end there were two holes quite close together with a length of rough hemp rope running between them. The rest of the rope hung down under the table and had large knots at each end.
John struggled but could only put up a token resistance as Gisborne and the guard manhandled him so he was lying on the table, on his back, with his arms by his sides. They removed his manacles and the guard secured the bands round his ankles while Gisborne placed those in the middle of the table around John's wrists.
Gisborne pushed John's head aside and pulled the loop of rope up until the knots on either end banged against the underside of the table. He then pulled it down over John's head and dropped it. The weight of the knots on either end held the rope snugly under John's chin but he was still able to breathe... for now.
"I'm sure even a brute like you can work out what this does - but just in case..." Vaizey nodded at Gisborne who demonstrated the effectiveness of the position by grabbing one of the knots under the table and pulling it. The rope dragged across John's neck until the other knot hit the underside of the table and held fast. The rope then bit up into John's throat as it tightened, choking him. It was like being hanged while lying down.
John bucked and strained against the metal bands at his wrists and ankles as the blood roared in his ears. Suddenly the pressure across his windpipe lifted and he coughed as he gasped in precious air.
"You see the problem with hanging," Vaizey explained. "Other than you can usually only do it once - is that there's no way to adjust the pressure, since it's your body weight pulling you against the rope - it's all or nothing. This way Gisborne can tighten that rope as and when he likes." Vaizey looked up and signalled again. This time Gisborne grabbed the other knot and John felt the rope rasping back across his neck in the other direction, before once more crushing into his throat.
"I've heard that it's possible to hang a man just long enough so you kill the mind without killing the body." Vaizey's voice cut through the pounding in John's ears. "Be interesting to see if we can do that."
The pressure eased and John felt the leather of Gisborne's glove against the side of his neck as Gisborne dug his fingers under the rope and lifted it away. It was red and slick with skin and blood from John's neck.
"What do you think, Gisborne? If he persists in this stubbornness... Kill his mind and keep him around as a big brainless pet?" Vaizey nodded again and John gasped in a quick breath before the rope snapped tight for the third time. It was like a line of fire searing across his neck. "Just think," Vaizey whispered in John's ear. "I could have my very own dancing bear..."
God, no... anything but that... just let it stop... please...
The rope loosened. "Where is Hood's camp?"
I can't... I mustn't... John screwed his eyes shut as the rope bit in hard again.
"Tell me," Vaizey coaxed.
The ravine, a mile southwest of Dead Man's Crossing... John gasped for air as the rope slackened off. Just tell him... It'll all stop...
"Come on... You already showed me it once before... Hood must have been thrilled to get back there to find you'd brought me right to it and then let a couple of children overpower you..."
Just tell him... Robin's not coming... You did what you could... You're no more use anyway...
"This time he won't even know it was you who told me - he already thinks you're dead after all..."
"Marian knows you're here"... Robin will know... He'll know! Allan's never given up the camp - he'll know it was you! Traitor! John closed his mouth again and shook his head slowly from side to side.
There was an exasperated tut from Vaizey and the rope tightened again. This time it stayed taut long past when it had been released before.
No! Not like this... God, please...
John thrashed frantically but his limbs grew heavier and heavier as everything faded to blackness...
>>>------------------------------>
Djaq halted instantly as Robin held up his hand. They both dropped into a crouch and Djaq remained still, listening intently as Robin slowly drew an arrow and fitted it to his bow.
She turned her head to look behind them as she heard what had alerted Robin - someone was running through the trees towards them, down the same trail they were on. Robin signalled to some bushes off to their left and Djaq crawled into them as quietly as possible as Robin ducked behind a tree on the other side of the trail. She lowered her bag carefully to the ground and put her hand on the hilt of her sword, ready to draw it once their pursuer made him or herself known.
He was such a small figure and was running so fast that he was almost past them before either of them recognised him.
Robin stepped out from his hiding place and called after him. "Daniel!"
The young boy from Locksley spun on his heels so quickly he fell over in a tangle of limbs.
Djaq and Robin both hurried to pick him up and dust him off.
"Robin!" Daniel was red in the face. He held his side as he spoke. "Locksley... threshing floor... Abbie Weaver's... youngest... flail... cut her head..." he panted out between breaths.
Abbie Weaver's youngest... a girl who would be about three years of age if Djaq recalled correctly. She put her hands on Daniel's shoulders. "Stand up straight, Daniel. Take deep breaths."
Daniel put his hands on his hips and did as instructed.
"Now, again... and more slowly please."
"Issy Weaver, Abbie's youngest - she wandered off while Abbie was hanging out skeins and she got too close to the men on the threshing floor. One of them hit her on a back swing before they even knew she was there. Her head's wide open. I said I'd come find you. You weren't at the camp so..." Daniel looked from Djaq to Robin as if surprised neither of them had moved yet. "She's... she's not dead - but her heart is very faint," he added.
Djaq nodded. "Thank you, Daniel." She collected her bag from the bushes before meeting Robin's eyes.
Robin glanced up the trail in the direction of Nottingham and then back towards Locksley. His gaze dropped to the ground and he closed his eyes.
Djaq strongly suspected he was praying.
"You'd better take us to her, Daniel," Robin finally said.
"Robin, you could take these medicines to Nottingham while I go to Locksley," Djaq suggested.
"No, nobody goes anywhere on their own. Not me to Nottingham and not you to Locksley... and I wouldn't want to risk giving Marian the wrong thing." He took a deep breath. "Marian has others to look after her - I shall have to trust to them. Issy Weaver only has you."
Robin turned to Daniel. "Run ahead and let them know we're coming."
Daniel nodded and sped off through the trees.
"Robin--"
"It's fine, Djaq." He looked once more towards Nottingham before turning back. "It's fine..."
>>>------------------------------>
Next Chapter
>>>------------------------------>
A/N: Any directions in this fic are pulled completely from thin air... I have no idea where the camp is. John wouldn't tell me either... and I was much nicer to him than the sheriff... ;)