They managed to avoid the guards long enough to deliver the remaining bags of gold, sticking to back doors and side entrances from there on in. Everyone they talked to, from the butcher to the baker to the candlestick maker, spoke highly of Robin Hood and how the money he brought them was often just enough to buy their land or feed their families. No one else knew about the whereabouts of the royal family or the Wizard Gene, and indeed, barely spoke of them in hushed tones. Even the mention of the kindly rulers could bring Malade's guards crashing through their doors.
The tavern, as it turned out, crawled with guards in yellow and orange questioning patrons. “Oh great, “ Brett groaned. “There's no way our contacts or our, er, friends are going to come in here with these jerks breathing down their necks!”
Charles grinned and pulled out his lute. “Watch and learn.” He stepped on the creaky old stage and launched into the lively tune “Brotherhood of Man” for the crowd. The guards danced and bawled, grabbing pretty barmaids and swinging them around the tables. Bill howled along, and even Brett jumped next to him and sang. Three tiny lights in red, green, and blue bobbed around Charles, giving the dark room a soft glow.
“Good work,” she manged to interject between choruses. A familiar short figure in a black cloak had already made his way into the room, settling at a table in a dark back corner. “Hey Charlie,” she grinned as three more figures wound their way to the back table, “I think we're a hit. We ought to start an act.”
The moment the music stopped, the guards turned on them, their swords raised. “Minstrel, in the name of the law, you're going to have to come with us.” The taller guard pointed his sword right at Charles' gullet. “You are under arrest for playing music and inciting a riot.”
“Boy, oh boy. You guys need to get your gatherings straight.” She wriggled her hips in her idea of a dance move. “This is dancing. And this,” she grabbed a bottle off the bar, “is starting a riot.” The bottle went down over the guard's head, just as Bill dove under a table. Charles swung his lute at another guard, hitting him in the stomach.
“Fight! Fight!” Donald threw off his cape and jumped on the bar. “I declare this a food fight!” He threw a bowl of pretzels at the nearest guard, hitting him dead in the face. Bobby emerged from another booth, dumping his drink on a guard's head.
“Such an idea is a lot of fun.” Nipsey pushed off his cloak and grinned from behind the counter. “I say, ale for everyone!” He smacked an ax into the barrels of ale, letting it slam into guards on their way to grab Donald.
“Hey Boss!” Orson grinned as he emerged from under the stage, his bow and arrow at the ready. “When was the last time we had a good bar brawl?”
“You know, it's been so long, I can't remember.” Richard's arrows pinned the hoods of four guards at once to the wall. Another went through the hand of a guard reaching for Brett's chest. “There. That ought to teach them to attack a lady.”
Brett smirked. “Thanks, Dickie. And as much as I hate to waste good liquor,” she added as she brought another bottle down on a guard's head, “I think this can be put to better use.”
Those three little lights were flashing around, too. Wooden vines crept in and seized guards, yanking them down and throwing them over the bar. Stuffed deer heads on the wall stretched out to poke guards or catch on their armor. Flowers grew out of the tops of their heads; blue lights flowed around their weapons, turning them to flopping fish.
Bill emerged from his table after Orson crashed into it. “Uh, folks?” He poked his head outside, then pulled it back in and darted to Charles. “I think it's time we headed for the hills, or at least the woods. There's monsters outside. Big ones! Trolls! The Queen's trolls. I don't want to be a meal for a troll! For one thing, they smell awful! Like dirty socks left outside in manure on a hot day.”
Charles wrapped his hand around Bill's muzzle. “We get the point. Let's find the others and get out of here. I hate trolls!”
Just as he swung his lute on his back, the green light fluttered down next to his ear. “Follow us!” squeaked a delicate little voice. “We know a back way out.”
Richard shot two more guards in the hands as they tried to grab Bill, who darted behind him. “As much as I'm enjoying the exercise, I think we'd best leave, before we end up cooling our heels in the local jail.”
Orson shot off another arrow at the head of the guards. “I'll cover you!”
They sloshed through the inch of ale remaining on the floor after the three lights. “Let me do it!” The blue light outlined a door in a dark recess of the back wall. “Hey!” It rammed into the wall three times before it opened, revealing the alley behind the stores. “Ok, everyone, let's go!”
“We thank you for getting us out of that,” Richard began as the lights led them back to Cornelius and the cart, “but...may I ask who you are? Or, more to the point, what you are?”
The red light fluttered against Richard's ear and actually nuzzled it. “We'll tell you who we are later, Richard of the Hood, when we're in the woods.”
“Uh, folks?” Donald pointed at three towering, hairy creatures lumbering in their direction, each the approximate size of the five of them put together. Two dragged Orson off towards town. “I don't think those guys want to hand us good conduct medals!”
“I'll take care of them!” Blue light soared into the late afternoon twilight, circling the troll's heads. “Come and get me, you hairy jerks!”
Brett slapped a hearty oak with her own green magic. “Let me give you a hand there.”
A little black cloud formed around one troll's head, soaking his hair and shooting lightning at his tush. Oak leaves and acorns rained down on the remaining trolls. As they threw their arms over their heads to protect themselves, they slipped on the hard round nuts piled under their big feet. The blue light flew so quickly around their fingers, they got all tied up and collapsed in the pile of nuts. It joined the others before the trolls could right themselves.
Richard tried to lunge towards Orson as he was thrown into a barred carriage. “Don't bother with me, Boss!” The slender bandit yelled over his shoulder as he struggled in the trolls' hairy arms. “Get everyone out of here!” The carriage disappeared down a narrow path before they could go after it.
“Don't worry, Rich.” Bobby glared over his shoulder at the retreating vehicle. “We'll get him back.”
“You know who we are, don't you?” It was the green light that flitted around Brett's ear now. “And we know you, too! We know everything that goes on in these woods.” It floated over to Richard's ear, her giggles merry like silver bells. “And we know you too, Robin Hood. Or Sir Richard Dawson, if you prefer.”
The green light moved slower around Charles as he drove. Almost...reverent. “And you...it's you. I knew she'd find you. You're the one. The champion we've been looking for!”
“I'm...what? Me?” Charles shook the reigns harder. “Whatever you are, you have the wrong guy. You're mistaking me for someone else. I'm a minstrel and actor, not anyone's champion.”
“You have the pure heart of a warrior.” The green light twinkled around him before landing in the cart. “I forgot, you can't see me when I'm like that.” Sparkles flashed at Charles' side for a few minutes...and when they subsided, a pretty young woman with short golden hair and a dimpled smile knelt next to him. “Here I am!” Green leaves fluttered around her brief skirt and clingy top. “Fairies know when they've found the right people. Call it a talent we have.” Emerald-edged wings allowed her to slightly hover over the wooden slats.
“Joyce, are you sure he's the champion?” Blue sparkles revealed a younger woman with fluffy chestnut curls and an aqua dress that flowed around her voluptuous body like rainwater. “He looks more like a nerd to me!”
“I don't think that's a nice thing to say, Debralee.” Flashes of scarlet brought a smaller, more slender woman with reddish-brown waves wound with primroses and a red silk dress that appeared to be crafted from flower petals. Her gossamer wings had a reddish hue that brought out the rose in her soft lips and the twinkling brown eyes.
Debralee wrinkled her nose. “Jo Ann, I've seen champions. Don't they usually have a sword, or something?”
“Champions come in all shapes and sizes, fairy miss,” Nipsey pointed out. “You don't need to be a warrior to free a princess with a kiss!”
The youngest fairy crossed her arms. “Well, we're going to need someone who can handle weapons,” she grumped. “The woods from here on in are corrupted. We can't do much with black magic!”
“Don't worry, Mistress Debralee.” Richard gave her his most charming smile. “This is where we warriors take over.”
The forest bore out their warning. Trees in this part of the woods were leafless black hulks, bowed over with eerie glowing fungus. Thick bramble bushes caught on Cornelius and scraped the sides of the carriage, leaving long scars. Vines hanging from skeletal branches wound wound their arms and legs, trying to pull them out. Dead leaves crunched under Cornelius' hooves. No light filtered through the heavy growth; all was dark as night.
“I don't like this,” Joyce whispered as she turned even paler than usual. “Malade's been here.”
Suddenly, Brett doubled over, gasping. “I can't...the trees...the woods...someone twisted them...the energy they give off...tainted...they're sick...”
Bill whimpered as a howl was heard in the distance. “I swear, that wasn't me! This place is giving me the willies!”
“I think we'd better shrink again,” Jo Ann added with a shiver, “before we can't use our magic at all.”
“Besides,” Joyce added as she waved her wand and turned a tree limb green and fresh, “we're here.”
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