The Nottingham Job
Author: mideltone_one
Title: The Nottingham Job
Words: 3465
Genre: Gen
Rating: G
Disclaimer:The Robin Hood characters written about here belong to Tiger Aspect and the British Broadcasting Corporation. All Rights Reserved. No copyright infringement is intended nor is any money being made. I don't own them - if I did I'd be too busy drooling to write! All mistakes are mine.
Summary: A shipment of gold that can't be stolen? Allan doesn't think so. Based, of course, on The Italian Job.
Warnings: Set in an AU of S2, where Marian is living in the castle, but Allan is still loyal to the gang.
Characters/Pairings: Allan, Djaq, John, Marian, Much, Robin, Will
"It simply can't be done." That was all Robin had said. That was all he'd needed to say to fire Allan into action. After much discussion it had been agreed that Allan would plan and run the raid, from start to finish, the one proviso being that he would be the one held responsible if it all went wrong. And on first sight it had seemed quite likely that it would all end in disaster. When large sums of gold were being transported to Nottingham there were bound to be extra levels of security. It would probably be almost impossible to get in, or out of the town unchallenged.
Realising he would need to plan this raid carefully, Allan had taken to wandering off into the forest on his own, deep in thought. When he'd settled all the details in his own head, he'd hurried back to the camp. Given that their leader had said it was impossible, nobody in the gang had been forced to take part. Relying on his abilities to talk people into doing almost anything he wanted, the thief had set about convincing them one by one. Djaq, Will and Much had been easy to win over, but John and of course Robin, had been a lot more difficult. Nevertheless, even the most cynical of outlaws could not have failed to be won over by the detail, skill, and sheer audacity of the plan. He'd also made it clear that no amount of gold was worth the life of one of his friends, so if there were to be a choice between gold and survival they were to choose the latter.
A certain amount of pre work was required, which needed to be funded. To this end a number of simple, at least in comparison to the main raid, hold ups had been carried out on the major roads into the county. Once sufficient monies had been gathered Much and John had been sent north to make appropriate purchases, as discretely as possible. Of course being willing to pay over the odds for the items in question in exchange for the vendors' silences had helped.
Allan's grin had been so wide when the large cart drew up to the stables at the edge of Clun, that his compatriots had wondered if he would hurt himself. Under a cloak of secrecy, the vital elements in the plan had been housed and cared for, with nobody except the barn owner any the wiser. Training of the outlaws had been a little more difficult than anticipated, but deadlines had been met, and by the end of their intensive lessons they could all protect themselves if needed whilst in the saddle.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Everyone was nervous as the sun rose on the morning of the raid. This was to be expected. Allan asked Robin to do what he did best and give a rousing speech to calm the gang; he would need them on top form if there were to be any hope of success. True to form the archer had done as requested, and in high spirits, probably to mask their fears, they had all headed off to Clun, bows and arrows strapped to their backs.
The large cart made its way to Nottingham much faster than anyone had expected. John had been selected to drive it, for reasons that had become obvious once the plan had been explained. Will had worked his magic on the cart, providing a false floor, under which he, Djaq, Much, and of course Allan, were hidden. Robin had slipped into the town earlier and, according to plan, was rendezvousing with Marian.
As expected the guards at the entrance to the town had been doubled, if not tripled, in anticipation of the imminent arrival of the gold. "What's in the cart, big man?" the guard asked, pointing a pike in the driver's general direction.
John didn't take kindly to being threatened by a pike, but realising how important it was to stay on track, he swallowed his annoyance. "Supposed to be some sort of horses," he said, in a very strange accent, "but see for yourself. I'd say they were more like over grown dogs."
The guard lowered his weapon and walked to the side of the cart. He looked in and started laughing. "Oi. Jack, Bob, come here. You've got to see this. You're not gonna believe it." The two other guards joined him, all falling about in fits of laughter once they'd looked inside. Regaining their composure the guards returned to their posts. "So who's buying 'em?" asked the chief guard.
"I think he's a butcher" came the reply, to more laughter.
"Can't see he's gonna get much meat off 'em" replied the guard, still chuckling.
"As long as he pays me to transport them, he can do what he likes with them" said John with a grin.
The guard nodded, suddenly aware that time was passing, and that he should regain his professional demeanour. "Alright then," he said, "on your way." John touched his forelock before taking up the reigns again and moving into the town square itself.
The cart was much too large to get out of the main square, but this detail had been expected and planned for. Drawing up against a wall, John tied the horses up and walked to the end of the cart. As he lowered the ramp at the back he also released the side panel allowing the others to slip out of the hidden compartment. To his great annoyance, Much had been selected to lead the contents of the cart to the staging point. Allan had explained that only he or Djaq could perform the task without drawing even more attention to themselves, and that she had other duties, which only she could perform. Unable to argue against this logic, he shortly found himself leading four Shetland ponies through the town.
Never had so many hands pointed and eyes stared at one man. Fortunately most of the comments were good natured; he even laughed himself when one bystander suggested he should use colder water the next time he washed his horses, or they'd shrink away to nothing. As Allan had hoped, the spectacle of the miniature horses allowed the three other outlaws to melt away into the background, and John to make his way back to the town entrance, where, after a few more mocking remarks, he was allowed to leave. Once out of site of the town, just inside the forest, he pulled the cart off the road and set about transforming it in preparation for it's role in a later stage of the plan.
Robin was hiding out in Marian's chambers when the town bell rang out, signalling the arrival of the gold at the main gate. "We just need to listen out for the church bell now," he said opening the window that looked out onto the surrounding countryside, "and then all hell will be let loose."
"Use the reed light," she said handing it to him to light the end of his arrow, "I'll count from the bell." He nodded as he handed the reed back to her, before taking up his position at the window, quickly seeking out and finding his initial target in the field below.
The carriage was, the sheriff had been assured, impenetrable, being armour clad, though in a black, rather than shiny silver, colour. The lock required two keys, one of which was being transported by a third party who would arrive after the carriage was safely ensconced within the castle. Given its size, it had become necessary to negotiate some rather narrow back lanes. Vasey had assigned the task to Gisborne, telling him it should be easy to organise; what could be difficult about clearing some peasants out of a street for a few minutes?
Djaq rushed into the chapel, only stopping to genuflect and cross herself, though she kept the fingers of her other hand crossed as she did it, hoping her God would forgive her this minor transgression. Straightening up again she rushed to the alter where the priest and his retinue were standing. "Excuse me father," she said in her best English accent, "the sheriff demands your, by which I mean you and all your colleagues' presence in the main hall. He told me to tell you, you would regret keeping him waiting."
The priest had obviously been summoned like this before, as he blanched as the threat became clear. "Very well, boy" he said, "Brothers we must leave immediately." Moments later they swept out of the building headed for the main hall of the castle. Djaq rushed to the bell tower and sounded one ring of the bell before meeting up with Allan in the street outside.
The street had been cleared, and the carriage was being backed up towards the lower entrance to the castle as Marian counted up to twenty. "Eighteen ... nineteen ... twenty, now!" Robin exhaled and loosed the burning arrow. There was never any doubt it would hit its target, a seemingly harmless mound of earth in the field outside.
He closed the window and moved away from it, laying his bow down on the bed. "Best cover your ears" he said, doing the same himself. Time seemed to slow down with only their heartbeats as company, but soon enough there was a loud bang followed by cries of "Attack! Attack! Man the battlements."
The explosion had spooked the horses pulling the carriage, which had lead to some of the guards being trampled under hoof. While attempts were made to calm them Gisborne was hot footing it to the sheriff following an order for him and as many men as he could spare to defend the town. He hadn't recognised the messenger, one master Scarlett, who was now waiting out of sight in a doorway off the street behind the carriage.
Townsfolk were rushing hither and thither, having been left to their own devices by the guards. This wasn't helped by a sudden shower of gold coins landing a few feet in front of the now calmed horses. Distracted by the melee in front of them the two remaining guards at the rear of the carriage were taken by surprise as spirit soaked clothes were clasped over their mouths and noses. Within a couple of heartbeats they were out cold, dragged out of sight by their assailants, Allan and Djaq. Climbing on top of the carriage as quietly as he could Will quickly dispatched the driver, and moments later the remaining two guards at the front were unconscious as well. The three outlaws backed the carriage past the currently unguarded entrance to the castle, and on to the main doorway of the church.
The horses quickly released, they were sent on their way with a sharp slap on the rump of each of them. As they ran off, the three outlaws pushed the carriage inside the church and closed and barred the door behind them. Djaq looked at Allan, concern on her face. "Wot's up?" he asked, worried that defeat might now be grasped from the teeth of victory.
"You do know working with Greek fire is an imprecise thing, don't you?" she said, "I will of course do my best, but I cannot guarantee the outcome."
He smiled back at her, "Djaq, I have absolute faith in you, specially since none of the rest of us have any clue wot to do. Time is of the essence though." She nodded and rushed off. "Will," he called out, "bell tower, on my mark." The young carpenter rushed off as well.
In Marian's chamber she and Robin had been discussing her assistance in gathering together details of the gold shipment, followed by how she would decide whom she married, and when, and that he would have to wait and see. He was in the middle of telling her how unfair she was being to him when the bell rang again. As before, she began counting whilst he lit a second arrow and aimed from the window, this time at the other side of the field. "Nineteen ... twenty, now!" The second arrow found its target, and as before shortly afterwards there was another explosion, though this time, there were actually two explosions.
"My work here is done," said Robin picking his bow up again, "Well almost." He planted a kiss on Marian's lips, much to their mutual delight, before pulling up his hood and darting out of the room.
In the church, dust and debris were scattered all over the floor. The stained glass windows on the outer wall had been blown out, and the impenetrable metal carriage lay open as if it had been torn in two. Amazingly the wooden casket inside was still intact, though its lid was nowhere to be seen. Coughing and spluttering the three outlaws stepped out from behind a wall and surveyed the scene. "'Ow much powder did you use?" asked Allan in disbelief, "Not bein' funny, but you were only supposed to blow the bloody doors off!"
"You would not have been happy if it had remained locked," replied Djaq calmly, "so I made sure it did not. As I said, it is an imprecise art."
"Ok, ok," he replied, "I apologise. Let's not stand 'ere arguin'. We need to get this packed away and be out of 'ere." They began packing the gold ingots into the small saddlebags they had brought with them.
Following the last explosion, Much had lead the ponies to the church entrance. They hadn't been spooked by the bangs, chiefly because of the woollen earplugs they had on. He'd also managed to locate and fit the saddles that had been hidden in the town a few days earlier. Being full sized saddles they did look a bit odd, and he'd had to improvise with the fastenings, but as far as he could tell they were up to the job. Now he just had to wait.
Two of the outlaws stood by the door waiting for Will. He had insisted on leaving one of the ingots, hidden behind the alter, to pay for the damage done to the church, which the others had deemed a noble, if rather over the top, deed of reparation. Once he was back at the door the two men had lifted the beam keeping the door shut and rushed out into the street. Much was waiting for them. "All to plan?" he asked.
Allan nodded. "So far so good," he said, "but this next bit will be the most difficult. Remember wot I said back at camp, your life is more important than this gold. After all, this is the self preservation society."
Saddlebags were fitted to each pony, and the four outlaws mounted up. More precisely, three mounted up, and one, Will, lifted his legs until they were in the stirrups, a few inches off the ground. He felt as if his knees were about level with his armpits, but now was not the time to complain. As they set off down the street a cry went up behind them. It was Gisborne and his men. The smoke and dust emanating from the church, together with the lack of a carriage, and the presence of four men on strangely sized horses had led him to the correct assumption that the gold was on its way out of the town.
On the straight there was no way a Shetland pony could outrun one of the guard's horses, but this was where the genius of Allan's plan came into play. As the larger horsemen drew close to them they split up, each riding down narrow alleyways, much too small for a full sized horse. Criss crossing the town, riding behind stalls in the market, and, on a number of occasions up or down flights of stairs, they were able to evade capture until they met again at the far corner of the town. Gisborne must have guessed their plan though, for moments after they arrived his men rounded the corner, charging full speed towards them. "We have them," he cried, "and they will suffer."
He hadn't counted, however, on the work of Will Scarlett. A mini production line had been running in the forest for the last few days. The young carpenter would cut left over pieces of wood into near perfect spheres, which the others would sand down until they took on the appearance of wooden marbles. These had then been packed, ready for just such an occurrence.
As one the outlaws lifted pouches out of their tunics, and threw the contents towards the advancing horses. Within seconds the ground was covered in tiny wooden balls, causing the horses to lose their footing. While the air was filled with pandemonium, Allan dismounted, handing the reigns of his pony to Much, and opened the door ahead of them. Once they were all inside the door was closed and barred. Gisborne and a few of his troops had managed to avoid the chaos, but had been blocked from the door by fallen horses and men. He now made his way to it, mainly by stepping on people. "Get this door open," he shouted, "There's nowhere they can go."
Once the road had been cleared, and a battering ram and men to use it brought forward, the door was broken open in short order. Expecting to see his quarry cowering in the corner, Gisborne was disappointed; the building was empty. That would have been that, had he not happened to notice a peculiarly small hoof print on the floor. Following it he found the trap door, which lead him to the set of stone steps, which lead him to the large sewer drain, which lead him to the realisation that the thieves had left the castle. "They can't have got far. Not on those oversized rats!" he screamed, "Send out search parties, I want that gold found."
Just inside the forest, the gang had reunited. The ponies were lead into the back of the cart, which was now closed in on all sides, and given oats and water. They had done their duty, and now all that was required of them was to stay quiet. Allan checked their earplugs were still in place, while Much got changed into what he considered to be the dirtiest grubbiest clothes he'd ever had to wear, including a particularly unpleasant cap. He familiarised himself with the reigns whilst his friends pitch forked particularly malodorous manure onto the top of the cart, and down its sides to give it the appearance of being full of dung. One unfortunately mis-aimed forkful of dung landed on the back of Much's neck. He stood up and fixed the culprit, Allan, with a hard stare. "I did not sign up to this to be covered in dung" he said indignantly.
"Sorry mate," replied the thief, "I was a bit over keen. Won't 'appen again."
"It had better not" said the manservant, sitting down again, and using the outside of the cap to wipe his neck clean.
When the sheriff's men arrived they were, at first, reluctant to even approach the cart. Inside, waiting and hoping, were four outlaws, four sleeping ponies, and numerous gold ingots. One of the guards rushed past and stopped the cart. "Have you seen four men come past you?"
Much thought for a minute. "Aye," he replied in an impossible to place accent, "On tiny horses. I told 'em they should buy some of my dung, and plant 'em in it until they grew into proper horses. They didn't want to stop and talk though."
"Must've been the smell" said the guard.
"What smell?" asked Much, looking perplexed.
"Never mind. Did you hear them say anything about where they were going?"
"I don't really want to say," replied the manservant, causing the guard to unsheathe his sword, "but if you insist, I did hear them say something about doubling back and heading south to fool those idiot guards ... No disrespect." That seemed to satisfy the guard who turned and headed south, without so much as a please or thank you.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A little later, back at the camp, the gang celebrated their success. Robin allowed each of them to keep a fraction of the gold for their own uses, as a token of thanks for a job well done. Allan spent a little of his newly found wealth on a bet with John that the big man couldn't complete three circuits of the camp with a pony under each arm without stopping. Needless to say, Allan lost the bet, but to his mind, for the laughter it brought him and his friends, it was a price worth paying.
Title: The Nottingham Job
Words: 3465
Genre: Gen
Rating: G
Disclaimer:The Robin Hood characters written about here belong to Tiger Aspect and the British Broadcasting Corporation. All Rights Reserved. No copyright infringement is intended nor is any money being made. I don't own them - if I did I'd be too busy drooling to write! All mistakes are mine.
Summary: A shipment of gold that can't be stolen? Allan doesn't think so. Based, of course, on The Italian Job.
Warnings: Set in an AU of S2, where Marian is living in the castle, but Allan is still loyal to the gang.
Characters/Pairings: Allan, Djaq, John, Marian, Much, Robin, Will
"It simply can't be done." That was all Robin had said. That was all he'd needed to say to fire Allan into action. After much discussion it had been agreed that Allan would plan and run the raid, from start to finish, the one proviso being that he would be the one held responsible if it all went wrong. And on first sight it had seemed quite likely that it would all end in disaster. When large sums of gold were being transported to Nottingham there were bound to be extra levels of security. It would probably be almost impossible to get in, or out of the town unchallenged.
Realising he would need to plan this raid carefully, Allan had taken to wandering off into the forest on his own, deep in thought. When he'd settled all the details in his own head, he'd hurried back to the camp. Given that their leader had said it was impossible, nobody in the gang had been forced to take part. Relying on his abilities to talk people into doing almost anything he wanted, the thief had set about convincing them one by one. Djaq, Will and Much had been easy to win over, but John and of course Robin, had been a lot more difficult. Nevertheless, even the most cynical of outlaws could not have failed to be won over by the detail, skill, and sheer audacity of the plan. He'd also made it clear that no amount of gold was worth the life of one of his friends, so if there were to be a choice between gold and survival they were to choose the latter.
A certain amount of pre work was required, which needed to be funded. To this end a number of simple, at least in comparison to the main raid, hold ups had been carried out on the major roads into the county. Once sufficient monies had been gathered Much and John had been sent north to make appropriate purchases, as discretely as possible. Of course being willing to pay over the odds for the items in question in exchange for the vendors' silences had helped.
Allan's grin had been so wide when the large cart drew up to the stables at the edge of Clun, that his compatriots had wondered if he would hurt himself. Under a cloak of secrecy, the vital elements in the plan had been housed and cared for, with nobody except the barn owner any the wiser. Training of the outlaws had been a little more difficult than anticipated, but deadlines had been met, and by the end of their intensive lessons they could all protect themselves if needed whilst in the saddle.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Everyone was nervous as the sun rose on the morning of the raid. This was to be expected. Allan asked Robin to do what he did best and give a rousing speech to calm the gang; he would need them on top form if there were to be any hope of success. True to form the archer had done as requested, and in high spirits, probably to mask their fears, they had all headed off to Clun, bows and arrows strapped to their backs.
The large cart made its way to Nottingham much faster than anyone had expected. John had been selected to drive it, for reasons that had become obvious once the plan had been explained. Will had worked his magic on the cart, providing a false floor, under which he, Djaq, Much, and of course Allan, were hidden. Robin had slipped into the town earlier and, according to plan, was rendezvousing with Marian.
As expected the guards at the entrance to the town had been doubled, if not tripled, in anticipation of the imminent arrival of the gold. "What's in the cart, big man?" the guard asked, pointing a pike in the driver's general direction.
John didn't take kindly to being threatened by a pike, but realising how important it was to stay on track, he swallowed his annoyance. "Supposed to be some sort of horses," he said, in a very strange accent, "but see for yourself. I'd say they were more like over grown dogs."
The guard lowered his weapon and walked to the side of the cart. He looked in and started laughing. "Oi. Jack, Bob, come here. You've got to see this. You're not gonna believe it." The two other guards joined him, all falling about in fits of laughter once they'd looked inside. Regaining their composure the guards returned to their posts. "So who's buying 'em?" asked the chief guard.
"I think he's a butcher" came the reply, to more laughter.
"Can't see he's gonna get much meat off 'em" replied the guard, still chuckling.
"As long as he pays me to transport them, he can do what he likes with them" said John with a grin.
The guard nodded, suddenly aware that time was passing, and that he should regain his professional demeanour. "Alright then," he said, "on your way." John touched his forelock before taking up the reigns again and moving into the town square itself.
The cart was much too large to get out of the main square, but this detail had been expected and planned for. Drawing up against a wall, John tied the horses up and walked to the end of the cart. As he lowered the ramp at the back he also released the side panel allowing the others to slip out of the hidden compartment. To his great annoyance, Much had been selected to lead the contents of the cart to the staging point. Allan had explained that only he or Djaq could perform the task without drawing even more attention to themselves, and that she had other duties, which only she could perform. Unable to argue against this logic, he shortly found himself leading four Shetland ponies through the town.
Never had so many hands pointed and eyes stared at one man. Fortunately most of the comments were good natured; he even laughed himself when one bystander suggested he should use colder water the next time he washed his horses, or they'd shrink away to nothing. As Allan had hoped, the spectacle of the miniature horses allowed the three other outlaws to melt away into the background, and John to make his way back to the town entrance, where, after a few more mocking remarks, he was allowed to leave. Once out of site of the town, just inside the forest, he pulled the cart off the road and set about transforming it in preparation for it's role in a later stage of the plan.
Robin was hiding out in Marian's chambers when the town bell rang out, signalling the arrival of the gold at the main gate. "We just need to listen out for the church bell now," he said opening the window that looked out onto the surrounding countryside, "and then all hell will be let loose."
"Use the reed light," she said handing it to him to light the end of his arrow, "I'll count from the bell." He nodded as he handed the reed back to her, before taking up his position at the window, quickly seeking out and finding his initial target in the field below.
The carriage was, the sheriff had been assured, impenetrable, being armour clad, though in a black, rather than shiny silver, colour. The lock required two keys, one of which was being transported by a third party who would arrive after the carriage was safely ensconced within the castle. Given its size, it had become necessary to negotiate some rather narrow back lanes. Vasey had assigned the task to Gisborne, telling him it should be easy to organise; what could be difficult about clearing some peasants out of a street for a few minutes?
Djaq rushed into the chapel, only stopping to genuflect and cross herself, though she kept the fingers of her other hand crossed as she did it, hoping her God would forgive her this minor transgression. Straightening up again she rushed to the alter where the priest and his retinue were standing. "Excuse me father," she said in her best English accent, "the sheriff demands your, by which I mean you and all your colleagues' presence in the main hall. He told me to tell you, you would regret keeping him waiting."
The priest had obviously been summoned like this before, as he blanched as the threat became clear. "Very well, boy" he said, "Brothers we must leave immediately." Moments later they swept out of the building headed for the main hall of the castle. Djaq rushed to the bell tower and sounded one ring of the bell before meeting up with Allan in the street outside.
The street had been cleared, and the carriage was being backed up towards the lower entrance to the castle as Marian counted up to twenty. "Eighteen ... nineteen ... twenty, now!" Robin exhaled and loosed the burning arrow. There was never any doubt it would hit its target, a seemingly harmless mound of earth in the field outside.
He closed the window and moved away from it, laying his bow down on the bed. "Best cover your ears" he said, doing the same himself. Time seemed to slow down with only their heartbeats as company, but soon enough there was a loud bang followed by cries of "Attack! Attack! Man the battlements."
The explosion had spooked the horses pulling the carriage, which had lead to some of the guards being trampled under hoof. While attempts were made to calm them Gisborne was hot footing it to the sheriff following an order for him and as many men as he could spare to defend the town. He hadn't recognised the messenger, one master Scarlett, who was now waiting out of sight in a doorway off the street behind the carriage.
Townsfolk were rushing hither and thither, having been left to their own devices by the guards. This wasn't helped by a sudden shower of gold coins landing a few feet in front of the now calmed horses. Distracted by the melee in front of them the two remaining guards at the rear of the carriage were taken by surprise as spirit soaked clothes were clasped over their mouths and noses. Within a couple of heartbeats they were out cold, dragged out of sight by their assailants, Allan and Djaq. Climbing on top of the carriage as quietly as he could Will quickly dispatched the driver, and moments later the remaining two guards at the front were unconscious as well. The three outlaws backed the carriage past the currently unguarded entrance to the castle, and on to the main doorway of the church.
The horses quickly released, they were sent on their way with a sharp slap on the rump of each of them. As they ran off, the three outlaws pushed the carriage inside the church and closed and barred the door behind them. Djaq looked at Allan, concern on her face. "Wot's up?" he asked, worried that defeat might now be grasped from the teeth of victory.
"You do know working with Greek fire is an imprecise thing, don't you?" she said, "I will of course do my best, but I cannot guarantee the outcome."
He smiled back at her, "Djaq, I have absolute faith in you, specially since none of the rest of us have any clue wot to do. Time is of the essence though." She nodded and rushed off. "Will," he called out, "bell tower, on my mark." The young carpenter rushed off as well.
In Marian's chamber she and Robin had been discussing her assistance in gathering together details of the gold shipment, followed by how she would decide whom she married, and when, and that he would have to wait and see. He was in the middle of telling her how unfair she was being to him when the bell rang again. As before, she began counting whilst he lit a second arrow and aimed from the window, this time at the other side of the field. "Nineteen ... twenty, now!" The second arrow found its target, and as before shortly afterwards there was another explosion, though this time, there were actually two explosions.
"My work here is done," said Robin picking his bow up again, "Well almost." He planted a kiss on Marian's lips, much to their mutual delight, before pulling up his hood and darting out of the room.
In the church, dust and debris were scattered all over the floor. The stained glass windows on the outer wall had been blown out, and the impenetrable metal carriage lay open as if it had been torn in two. Amazingly the wooden casket inside was still intact, though its lid was nowhere to be seen. Coughing and spluttering the three outlaws stepped out from behind a wall and surveyed the scene. "'Ow much powder did you use?" asked Allan in disbelief, "Not bein' funny, but you were only supposed to blow the bloody doors off!"
"You would not have been happy if it had remained locked," replied Djaq calmly, "so I made sure it did not. As I said, it is an imprecise art."
"Ok, ok," he replied, "I apologise. Let's not stand 'ere arguin'. We need to get this packed away and be out of 'ere." They began packing the gold ingots into the small saddlebags they had brought with them.
Following the last explosion, Much had lead the ponies to the church entrance. They hadn't been spooked by the bangs, chiefly because of the woollen earplugs they had on. He'd also managed to locate and fit the saddles that had been hidden in the town a few days earlier. Being full sized saddles they did look a bit odd, and he'd had to improvise with the fastenings, but as far as he could tell they were up to the job. Now he just had to wait.
Two of the outlaws stood by the door waiting for Will. He had insisted on leaving one of the ingots, hidden behind the alter, to pay for the damage done to the church, which the others had deemed a noble, if rather over the top, deed of reparation. Once he was back at the door the two men had lifted the beam keeping the door shut and rushed out into the street. Much was waiting for them. "All to plan?" he asked.
Allan nodded. "So far so good," he said, "but this next bit will be the most difficult. Remember wot I said back at camp, your life is more important than this gold. After all, this is the self preservation society."
Saddlebags were fitted to each pony, and the four outlaws mounted up. More precisely, three mounted up, and one, Will, lifted his legs until they were in the stirrups, a few inches off the ground. He felt as if his knees were about level with his armpits, but now was not the time to complain. As they set off down the street a cry went up behind them. It was Gisborne and his men. The smoke and dust emanating from the church, together with the lack of a carriage, and the presence of four men on strangely sized horses had led him to the correct assumption that the gold was on its way out of the town.
On the straight there was no way a Shetland pony could outrun one of the guard's horses, but this was where the genius of Allan's plan came into play. As the larger horsemen drew close to them they split up, each riding down narrow alleyways, much too small for a full sized horse. Criss crossing the town, riding behind stalls in the market, and, on a number of occasions up or down flights of stairs, they were able to evade capture until they met again at the far corner of the town. Gisborne must have guessed their plan though, for moments after they arrived his men rounded the corner, charging full speed towards them. "We have them," he cried, "and they will suffer."
He hadn't counted, however, on the work of Will Scarlett. A mini production line had been running in the forest for the last few days. The young carpenter would cut left over pieces of wood into near perfect spheres, which the others would sand down until they took on the appearance of wooden marbles. These had then been packed, ready for just such an occurrence.
As one the outlaws lifted pouches out of their tunics, and threw the contents towards the advancing horses. Within seconds the ground was covered in tiny wooden balls, causing the horses to lose their footing. While the air was filled with pandemonium, Allan dismounted, handing the reigns of his pony to Much, and opened the door ahead of them. Once they were all inside the door was closed and barred. Gisborne and a few of his troops had managed to avoid the chaos, but had been blocked from the door by fallen horses and men. He now made his way to it, mainly by stepping on people. "Get this door open," he shouted, "There's nowhere they can go."
Once the road had been cleared, and a battering ram and men to use it brought forward, the door was broken open in short order. Expecting to see his quarry cowering in the corner, Gisborne was disappointed; the building was empty. That would have been that, had he not happened to notice a peculiarly small hoof print on the floor. Following it he found the trap door, which lead him to the set of stone steps, which lead him to the large sewer drain, which lead him to the realisation that the thieves had left the castle. "They can't have got far. Not on those oversized rats!" he screamed, "Send out search parties, I want that gold found."
Just inside the forest, the gang had reunited. The ponies were lead into the back of the cart, which was now closed in on all sides, and given oats and water. They had done their duty, and now all that was required of them was to stay quiet. Allan checked their earplugs were still in place, while Much got changed into what he considered to be the dirtiest grubbiest clothes he'd ever had to wear, including a particularly unpleasant cap. He familiarised himself with the reigns whilst his friends pitch forked particularly malodorous manure onto the top of the cart, and down its sides to give it the appearance of being full of dung. One unfortunately mis-aimed forkful of dung landed on the back of Much's neck. He stood up and fixed the culprit, Allan, with a hard stare. "I did not sign up to this to be covered in dung" he said indignantly.
"Sorry mate," replied the thief, "I was a bit over keen. Won't 'appen again."
"It had better not" said the manservant, sitting down again, and using the outside of the cap to wipe his neck clean.
When the sheriff's men arrived they were, at first, reluctant to even approach the cart. Inside, waiting and hoping, were four outlaws, four sleeping ponies, and numerous gold ingots. One of the guards rushed past and stopped the cart. "Have you seen four men come past you?"
Much thought for a minute. "Aye," he replied in an impossible to place accent, "On tiny horses. I told 'em they should buy some of my dung, and plant 'em in it until they grew into proper horses. They didn't want to stop and talk though."
"Must've been the smell" said the guard.
"What smell?" asked Much, looking perplexed.
"Never mind. Did you hear them say anything about where they were going?"
"I don't really want to say," replied the manservant, causing the guard to unsheathe his sword, "but if you insist, I did hear them say something about doubling back and heading south to fool those idiot guards ... No disrespect." That seemed to satisfy the guard who turned and headed south, without so much as a please or thank you.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A little later, back at the camp, the gang celebrated their success. Robin allowed each of them to keep a fraction of the gold for their own uses, as a token of thanks for a job well done. Allan spent a little of his newly found wealth on a bet with John that the big man couldn't complete three circuits of the camp with a pony under each arm without stopping. Needless to say, Allan lost the bet, but to his mind, for the laughter it brought him and his friends, it was a price worth paying.