The Adventures of Han of the Hood, Part 4

After that, Han no longer argued about remaining with the group. He kept insisting he'd go to Du Hutt, when he had enough money, but there was always one more coach to rob or a Saxon noble who's home was threatened. Every Norman noble in the south of England became wary of riding through Sherwood. They never knew who would jump out and steal their jewels and and other valuables.

Zeb smacked a wanted poster offering a ten thousand crown reward for the capture of Robin Hood with his staff. “All they have is the person in a hood.” He drew his staff over the artwork of a person in a hooded tunic, holding a bow that was ready to shoot. “Those bloody imbeciles can't tell if it's male, female, tall, or small!.” He turned to Han. “You've got that old Sheriff right hoodwinked.”

“Aye, I'm glad of that.” That famous smirk crept across Han's handsome face. “But they'll never catch us. Not with that poster, anyway. We've given money to almost every poor person in and around Nottingham. Most of the peasants love us, and the wealthy nobles scarcely need the money.”

“Han!” Leia called as horses' hooves echoed in the woods. “There's a carriage out there. I don't think it looks terribly wealthy, but one never knows. I see a family, a man and a woman carrying an infant.”

“Who's turn is it to be Robin?” Han pulled out his arrow. “Luke was Robin last time.”

“Mine.” Leia pulled out hers and tugged the dark green hood over her thick brown braided crown. “Zeb, go get Luke, Chewie, and Thomas. It's not a large carriage. I don't think we'll need everyone. Han, stay with me.”

“Sure, Your Maidship.” He watched her shimmy up a tree and followed after, a bit slower.

Leia got up onto the strongest branches first. “Would you please stop calling me that?” She whispered as she helped him onto the branch.

“Aye, Leia.” He shrugged as he adjusted his weight next to her lesser one. “You could be a bit nicer to me, lass. Sometimes, you think I'm not so bad.”

“Occasionally, maybe.” She sucked at a splinter that had gotten into her thumb. “When you aren't acting like a scoundrel.”

“Scoundrel?” His strong hands were around her slender, pale ones before she could stop him. “Scoundrel. I like you calling me that.”

“Stop that, Han,” she muttered. “My hands are dirty.”

He kept rubbing them. “My hands are dirty too, lass. We're in the woods. It comes with the territory. What are you afraid of?”

“Afraid?” Her fathomless doe eyes met his hazel ones. “I'm not afraid of anything.”

They were nearly nose to nose now. “You're trembling. The whole branch is shaking.”

“No, it's not,” she whispered. “It's...”

When their lips met, it was like cannons going off. Every bone in Han's body melted into sweet liquid. She tasted like ripe strawberries and smelled like fresh-washed summer day. He was enjoying their embrace so much, he barely noticed Thomas' fussy voice below them.

“I say, Leia! Han!” Thomas waved both arms under their branch. “The carriage is coming! Your Maidship, you must be ready! Pull on your hood!”

Han poked his head out of the leaves just as Leia tugged her hood over her braids. Her face had turned almost as scarlet as Luke's cloak. “Thank you so much, Golden Man.”

Thomas ignored his sarcasm. “You're very welcome, Mr. Han.” Chewbacca and Artoo tugged him into the brush. Zeb lay behind a log, while a bit of bright red and a monk's cloak could be seen ducking behind the trunks of trees.

The carriage that came their way was more like a cart. A small, dark-skinned man with curly black hair and large brown eyes shook the reins on a proud gold mare. There was a bag and a lute behind him. He wore a fine blue tunic and hose, with a blue and gold silk cape that billowed around his shoulders and whistled an aimless tune as his horse clipped her way down the path.

Leia swung out first, before Han could stop her. “Well, hello there, sir.” She landed nimbly in front of his cart. “I think my men and I have business with you and that bag of money in the back there.”

The man only gave Leia a charming smile. “And who are you, my forest sprite? You sound too beautiful to be hiding among the pesantry.”

“Robin Hood, sir.” The man took her hand and gave it a kiss. She smirked into the trees before giving him her sweetest smile. “And now, we really do need that bag of yours. Call it a donation for our unfortunate king.”

“Ahh yes, His Majesty.” The man shook his head in mock sadness. “That is tragic. I heard from Prince Palpatine that they're having a hard time gathering the ransom. So many people these days are poor. They don't have the extra money for another tax.”

“Beg your pardon, sir,” Thomas began as he and Artoo emerged from the bushes, “but you hardly appear to be suffering from poverty. That cape is quite finely made, for a moor.” Artoo growled at this fellow. There was something he didn't like about his smell. He smelled oil on him...like the oil that had been on Sheriff Vader's armor at Nottingham Castle.

“Lando-a-Dale, my lady.” His white grin was blinding in the afternoon sun. “I'm a minstrel by trade who has picked up a lucrative job playing for the court at Nottingham.” His eyes flicked upwards. “I'm surprised you call yourself Robin Hood, my lady. I was under the impression that Robin was a man. In fact, I wanted to talk to him.”

Han swung, rather awkwardly, down next to Leia. He nearly stumbled into her before managing to turn himself to the cart. “Lando? I haven't seen you in years, since we were in the Crusades! What brings you to this part of the woods?”

“I'm on my way to Nottingham. They're having a big festival and contest there.” The others were starting to emerge. Chewie shuffled over in his robes and nodded at the man. “And how are you, Chewbacca? Still with this old rogue?” The taller moor spoke in his gravely bass. Lando laughed. “Well, someone has to keep Han in line.” He turned that blinding grin on Leia. “I still know the language of the old country, my lady.”

Leia ignored him. “Contest?”

“Oh, yes.” Lando returned to Han. “Thought you might be interested. There's going to be a huge archery contest and fair on the grounds at Nottingham Castle. The prize is an arrow made from pure gold.”

Luke whistled as he and Yoda emerged from the bushes. “Think of how much food that could buy for the poor of Nottingham!”

“And how many jewels we could swipe off rich Normans on the fairgrounds,” added with a smirk.

Yoda frowned. “Like this, I do not. Go, we must not. Trap, it may be.”

“He'll never know if we go in disguise.” Han grinned. “We're pretty good with those now. The servant costumes from Sir Rieekian's house might work.”

“We'll go with him.” Luke waved his hand at himself and Leia. “Thomas, you and Chewbacca can come, too.”

Leia grinned as she peered in Lando's cart. “You have quite a nice collection of capes and fine clothes there. Perhaps we could use that.”

He put up a hand. “Now wait a minute, miss...”

“We won't hurt them. We swear.” Han gave him his lopsided grin. “We won't even use them to put out a fire, like Kira did that one time.”

“We'll all go as minstrels.” Leia tugged Han's hood over his head. “Except this scruffy-looking idiot. He can pass himself off as a shepherd or forester.”

Han pulled his hood off and slicked down his hair. “Who's scruffy-looking?” He gave Chewbacca a glare as he and the others guffawed. “Laugh it up, fuzzball. You should have seen us in the tree together.”

“Why you...” Leia ignored the others, grabbed Luke, and gave him the most solid kiss she possibly could before snatching a cape from the cart and sauntering off in the woods. Luke just leaned against the a tree, his eyes rolling upwards with a small grin, as Lando whistled, Han growled, and the others continued to roar with laughter.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The Nottingham Summer Fair was one of the busiest and most popular events of the year. Chewbacca wound the carriage through throngs of people selling cakes and bread and meats, past merchants with pretty glazed pots or tapestries on display, and dozens of guards standing attention at every entrance. Leia sat up front with Han and Chewie. She was the one who addressed the guards in chain mail at the front gate, looking as lofty as she could in her gown the color of fine red wine and her white lace wrap. Glittering jewels were woven into her twin braids.

“I am the Princess of Aldera,” she snapped, “and I demand that you let me, my manservant, and our guests through. We're here on very important business.”

Han nodded quickly, trying to make his voice deeper and less recognizable. “And we can only tell the Sheriff of Nottingham about it.”

“I've never heard of your kingdom, Your Highness, and I've traveled all over England.” The captain squinted at them suspiciously. “Are you sure you're a Princess?”

“Of course, she is!” sniffed Thomas, sounding his most snooty. “The nerve of questioning my mistress! Why, I have half a mind to call for the Sheriff myself! She's a very, close, personal friend of his. She...”

Leia shook Thomas' shoulder. “That's enough, servant.” She gave the men her best glare. “Now, are you going to let us in, or am I going to have to find Sheriff Vader and tell him I'll be late for my appointment?”

The guard blanched, nearly turning white at the mention of Vader. “Yes, Your Highness.” He and his men moved away, letting the cart ride through the gate and into the crowds.

“How did we get past those men?” Luke leaped out first. “I thought we were dead.” He helped Yoda out of the cart, lifting the small clergyman as easily as if he were a sack of grain.

“Vader's name brings fear, it does.” Yoda leaned on his old cane made from a gnarled tree limb. “Fear of death, of anger. Men fear him, they do; respect him, they do not. Respect King Bail, they did.”

“It'll be all right, oh mighty short one.” Han tugged at the bow on his back and pulled his hood further over his head. “When I win the Golden Arrow, I'll sell it for more money than you've seen in decades. Just the prize money alone will pay off the rest of my debt and feed the poor for three months.”

Thomas had to put Artoo on a stout woven leash. He kept sniffing at every tent pole and barked at every other dog and bird he saw. “Behave, Artoo! This is no time to run off and chase other dogs. We'll make friends another time. Right now, we need to patrol the area and make sure the Sheriff and his men are too busy to notice us.”

“I'll keep an eye on him,” Leia assured them. Han never thought she looked more beautiful. The red silk gown was originally intended as a dance costume. She and Hera had sewn flowery satin ribbon and lace from Ireland on the cuffs, collar, and hem. Her white cloak and head covering were made of a filmy material that shimmered in the afternoon light. A crown of wildflowers circled her hair and made her resemble the fairies of legend.

“You look gorgeous.” Lando's eyes roved around her shapely figure in the gown, It was daringly low-cut, revealing every curve of her body. “You truly belong among the members of the court, or perhaps in a fairy court.”

Han quickly took Leia's arm. “Why don't we go find His Royal Jerk-ness Prince Palpatine and see when this contest is going to get started?”

Luke nodded. “Yoda and I will look for the Sheriff and see what he's up to.”

“We'll be among the spectators,” Thomas added. Artoo growled at him. He scratched his ears. “That's the last thing we need. We're supposed to be keeping an eye on the crowds and on Robin Hood, not attacking every guard we see!” The dog's bark sounded contrite. His friend made a face. “I am not a yellow-bellied coward! I'm just doing my job.”

“Enough.” Han nodded at the crowds surrounding a line of wood and canvas targets. “I think that's my place. I'll be the one beating those guys.”

Leia leaned over and gave him a kiss. “Good luck!”

He just grinned a bit stupidly. Chewbacca sighed and nudged him towards the stands as Luke and Yoda headed towards the castle and Leia made her way to the royal box.

Lando was playing a jaunty ballad for the Prince and his couriers to cover the preparations for the contest. “You know,” Han commented to Chewbacca as they got in line, “he's pretty good. No wonder he's been doing well.” Chewbacca shook his head and pointed at Lando, how his eyes kept shifting around, as if he were looking for someone. “True, my friend. He does seem to be looking out for something. After the contest, we'll ask him about it.”

As Han lined up with the other archers, he watched Leia in the striped tents reserved for royalty and nobility. Prince Sheev Palpatine was one of the ugliest, dried-up old hags Han had ever laid eyes on. Leia curtsied and gave him her best girlish smile, but he saw her make a face when his back was turned. He couldn't blame her. No one wanted the job of buttering up that so-called Prince. Her simpering seemed to work. He patted the chair next to his golden throne.

They were all lined up now. Men – and a smattering of bold women – from all over Nottingham, bakers and nobles and farm hands, all hoping to win the Golden Arrow and the praise of the Prince himself. “I wonder where the Sheriff is?” Han asked Chewbacca, who stood on the sides, before they began. “He's not with the Prince in the stands, and I didn't see him in the crowds. He's said to be the best archer in all the kingdom.”

Chewbacca frowned and pointed towards the castle. A wisp of black cape could be seen following Luke into the main hall. “I don't like it either.” Han adjusted his beloved oakwood bow. “What would the Sheriff want with Luke? Take Thomas and Artoo and follow them. Make sure he causes the lad no harm.” His companion shook his head and went on in his language. “I'll be all right, Chewie.” He tugged the hood further over his face. “No one knows it's me.”

It took a shove, but Chewbacca finally hurried towards the castle. He thought he saw Artoo follow after him, sniffing at the hay strewn on the ground with his little black nose. Thomas was nowhere in sight. “That's odd,” Han muttered to himself as they lined up for the first round. “Thomas never goes anywhere without Artoo, and Artoo is never without Thomas. I hope that old worry-wart hasn't run into trouble.”

There was no more time to wonder. Admiral Piett, the dour head of Vader's strike force, announced the start of the first round. He easily continued on to the first match, and then the second. The only man who could get close to him was Sir Boba of Gisbourne, dour and dark in his dented green and red armor. Their arrows were the only ones to continuously hit the targets dead-center.

By the time of the third round, only Han and Sir Boba remained. Boba leaned on his bow, eyeing the man in the simple brown hood. “You're quite good, Master Forester,” he stated in his low monotone. “If I didn't know better, I'd say you as good as that knave Robin Hood.”

“Why, thank you!” Han said in the closest thing he could manage to a Norman accent. “I'm quite good all right, but there are others who are finer. I've heard the Sheriff of Nottingham is one of the best in the kingdom.” He strung the arrow on his bow casually. “Where is Old Metal Pants, anyway?”

Boba snorted. “I wouldn't call him that to his face. He's choked men for less. He's at the castle.” The tall man in the armor held out his arrow and shot it from 100 paces with deadly accuracy. His monotone had a decided smirk in it when he pulled back. “I don't think anyone could beat that.”

“Oh my!” Han tried to sound surprised. “You're quite a shot, aren't ye, Lord Gisbourne?”

The quiet bounty hunter only shrugged. “I try.”

“I'm not bad myself.” No sooner did he aim his arrow than Boba quite deliberately “bumped” into him. The arrow went off-course, going high into the air. Han didn't stop to think. He grabbed another arrow and shot it into the first one. Not only did his arrow return to its original course, but it split Gisbourne's arrow in two!

Han bowed for the crowd as everyone in the stands went wild. Chewbacca whistled loudly and yelled in his native language before hurrying off to find Luke and Thomas. “The winner,” said Lando, “is the Forester from Corellia!”

Lando and one of the Sheriff's deputies lead him and Gisbourne to the stands, where Palpatine and his court looked on. He only had eyes for Leia. The deep red gown and white lace wrap gave her pale skin the look of exquisite porcelain or polished stone. Her dark brown eyes, however, were glowing with warmth and pride...but he could see the underlying concern in them.

She'd begun to stand and take her leave as a hand reached out to pull her down. She struggled, trying to push the two deputies in white armor who held her down away. Now Han knew something was wrong. Lando wouldn't quite meet his eyes as he brought him before Palpatine.

“That was some fine shooting there, young man.” Palpatine's evil smile in that warped, wrinkled face of his gave him the look of an evil hag from a fairy tale.

Han once again bowed before him. “I did what I needed to do, Your Majesty.”

“Yes, I did. And now,” Palpatine reached for a red-bladed sword with a fine silver hilt, “kneel before me, lad.” As Han did, he placed the flat side of the blade on his shoulder. “I announce you to be the winner...” The blade suddenly tore through Han's hood, pulling it off and revealing his true identity to the entire fairgrounds, “Robin Hood!” Palpatine cackled as his men leaped into the fray, a hundred swords aimed in Han's direction. “Seize him, men! Don't let him escape!”

Han was running out of arrows and out of time. For every man he shot, two seemed to take their place. Chewbacca was fighting with another group of guards while carrying something gold and shiny on his back. Artoo nipped at their heels, howling like a banshee. Han saw Lando get up next to Palpatine in the box and grab Leia's arm, allowing one of Palpatine's guards in the red armor to take her knife. The elderly prince reminded him of a death's-head and was as scary as any witch.

The guards finally knocked Han to the ground, slapping metal cuffs on his wrists and Chewbacca's. “Aye, my friend. Looks like we're in as tight a spot as we ever were.” Chewie gave him a worried growl. “Don't worry. We'll get out of it.” The outlaw tried to make his lopsided grin as reassuring as he could. “We always do.”

A groan sounded from Chewie's back. “I knew you should have come running out after Master Solo! What about me? I can barely move, and it's most uncomfortable on your back!”

Han managed to peer around the guards long enough to notice Thomas somehow strapped to Chewie's back. “What happened to you?” The slender servant's long face was so badly bruised, it closely resembled a very large dark purple spot, and his left leg hung at a crazy angle.

Palpatine stood, leaning on his cane, as the guards dragged Han and Chewbacca before him. “Well, well.” The ancient prince cackled like a witch. “Seems Lando-a-Dale was right about you. Robin Hood would never resist a chance to show off his skills. It was the perfect trap.” His sneer gave Han the chills. “Or should I call you Lord Han Solo of Corellia Manor, whose lands were bought by a certain Baron Du Hutt after the death of his father? You owe him thousands of pounds in gold.”

Han only had eyes for Leia. She looked beautiful, even struggling in Lando's arm. “Aye, Your Majesty. I only worked for him to regain what was rightfully mine.”

“No!” Leia pushed Lando aside and ran to his arms. “No! Han, I won't let you do this!”

He leaned over her and whispered into her ear. “Get out of here, lass. Release Chewie and go find Luke. Vader went after him and Yoda in the castle.”

“No!” She exclaimed. “Han, I love you!”

He just nodded. “I know.”

The guards dragged him away when they saw familiar black armor dragging a struggling, screaming figure out to the main hall. “I caught this one trying to steal our treasury, my master.” He shook Luke by his red hood. Luke clutched his badly bleeding hand; his sword had vanished. “I had to teach my son a lesson. The old friar is still at large.”

Han's eyes widened. “Your son?”

“Yes. Or so he says.” Luke gulped, pulling away. “You're not my father! It can't be true!”

“It is true, boy.” Emperor Palpatine's grin bore closer resemblance to a wrinkly dragon. “Your father has worked for me for years, ever since your mother died. You will join me, of course. I could use someone like you in my guards.”

“No!” Luke shrieked, his eyes wider than saucers. “Never!”

Lando had leaned over a man in blue armor, his blue and black visor raised just enough for him to hear. “Your Highness,” he began as they strolled into the box, “would you like to hear one of my best songs? It's something I wrote just for this occasion.”

“Now?” Palpatine narrowed his eyes. “We don't need music now. I'm in the middle of an arrest!”

“But it makes it so much more pleasant!” The minstrel in the blue and gold cape strummed his lyre as hard and loudly as he could...and then let out a note that was so much like a screech, it shattered every bit of glass within a five mile radius and forced anyone not wearing helmets to throw their hands over their ears.

This was apparently the signal for half the fairgoers to spill out on the grounds. Lando hit the back of the closest guard with his lyre. “Leia, Han,” he hissed, “get out of here! Before ol' Palpy realizes what's going on.”

Chewbacca roared and started throwing around guards, to Thomas' general horror. Han kicked at his guards as Leia pulled a short sword from under her skirts and lunged into the three guards with Vader. Luke kicked at Vader, hard enough to get him to let go.

“Chewie, go get the others!” Han shoved him off. “Leia, go with him. We're going to need help!”

Leia tried to grab his hand. “But....” Chewie managed to snatch her under his arm and run off before she could get any further, despite Thomas' noisy protests and her squawks.

That done, Han went to see if he could find Luke and Friar Yoda. He had no idea what happened to the older religious man. He found the lad kicking at Vader for all he was worth before finally aiming his foot into the one place Old Metal Pants wasn't made of iron. The moment he doubled over, the boy raced off into the crowds.

“Ha ha! That'll show Old Iron Brains he can't mess with the outlaws of Sherwood!” Han raised his bound fists in triumph as he laughed. He managed to duck around two more men and dive into the crowds, hoping to either find a bow and arrow or find Lando and thank him for saving the others and punch him into oblivion for letting Palpatine get to him in the first place.

He ducked through the crowd, pushing and elbowing his way around the people, and towards the gardens alongside the castle when he heard a familiar – and unpleasant – monotone. “Going somewhere, Robin Hood? You are Robin Hood?” Sir Boba of Gisbourne stepped out of the shadows. “Or is Robin Hood a lass in white? Or perhaps a young man with golden hair in a red cloak? The myth seems to change with each person telling it.”

Han gave him his best lopsided smirk. “Myths tend to work that way, lad. One way or another, they get passed on.”

“Your myth ends here.” Gisbourne pulled out his sword. “Baron Du Hutt is waiting for you, Solo. You've eluded him one too many times. Your band will be rounded up and captured; your lover and lieutenants are likely in the grasp of the Sheriff, even as we speak. I don't care about the Prince, or Vader. Vader can have all the heartfelt reunions with his progeny he wants. I only care about the money. And sooner or later,” his sword swung into the air, “I get what I want.”

Han lifted his arms to defend himself...and felt them fall to his sides. Gisbourne's blade had sliced through his bonds. “Ha ha! Thanks, Sir Boba! Now I can do...” He quickly lifted his visor, “this!”

The last thing Gisbourne was expecting was for Han to punch him as hard as he could in the nose. It was enough to fling him back several centimeters, and for his quarry to reach for a sword that had been lost by one of the guards. “How about you let a lad fight fair? Oh yes, I forgot.” His smirk widened. “You don't know the meaning of the words 'fair fight.'”

“Not at all.” Gisbourne easily parried Han's thrust. “I never looked them up in the dictionary, Solo!”

They were evenly matched, the two. Two swords gleamed in the rapidly dying mid-afternoon light as the duo pushed each other over and around rose bushes and flower beds. Ducking under his blade, Han gave Gisbourne a sharp kick that caused him to lose his balance and end up in the moat.

Lando picked that moment to arrive, along with three of the Merry Rebels. “Need some help, Robin Hood?” he said with a smirk. “Your friends here and the villagers are holding their own. The castle will be ours in no time.”

“There's another one to add to your collection,” he chuckled. The three outlaws and Lando's friend in the helmet fished the bounty hunter out of the moat. Han frowned, looking around Lando as Zeb and Friar Yoda trotted up to them. “Where's Leia and Chewie?”

“Lost track of them, we have. Into the castle, they went.” The elderly friar tapped his walking stick on the hard-packed ground. “Into the castle, we must go.”

All three turned on Lando, who was just starting to move back. Zeb grabbed the back of his cape before he could run. “Oh no ye don't, mate.” He lifted Lando bodily off his feet and dropped him in front of Han.

His friend only glared at him. “Start talkin', before I consider letting Zeb pull your arms off.”

“They're in the castle.” The slick musician gasped as the cord for his cape cut into his throat. “Leia told Chewbacca to take her to find Luke and Sheriff Vader...”

“Release him, you must.” Yoda tapped Zeb on the shin. “You will not find them if the musician perishes.”

Zeb dropped Lando, who nearly ended up in the dirt. “You never let me have any fun, old man,” he grumbled.

“Fun later, you will. Find others now, we must.” Yoda poked at Han with his walking stick. “Come with me, you will. Find your friends, hm?”

“I will, Friar, if you'd keep that little stick to yourself.” Han pushed it off. “Zeb, bring the others – and anyone else you can round up from the fair – to the castle gates.”

Lando rubbed his throat. “I'll go talk to my friends and see if they can keep Vader's lads off your back long enough to find your friends.”

“Thank you, Lando.” He nodded out to the fairgrounds. “Use Falcon and the cart to ride through their defenses. You'll need all the help you can get. Falcon is the fastest horse in Sherwood.”

His friend put up a hand. “All right, lad. I know what that old nag and the cart mean to you. I'll take good care of them. They won't get a scratch.”

Han looked over his shoulder as the Friar tugged him along. “I got your promise, lad. Not a scratch.”

The other man doubled over laughing. “Would you get going, before that little religious goblin drags you into the moat?”

“Go, we must.” Yoda's beady black eyes were drawn upwards. “Rescue the others, we must. Hurt them, the Sheriff will, or worse.”

The outlaw tugged his hand away from the little priest's. “All right, old man. I'm coming. I don't want to see those two harmed, any more than you do.”