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.”
