Robin Hood. The Legend Begins. Chapter 2

  Robin grinned as Hunter shot an arrow into a target, spearing the centre. The two had become friends in the last two weeks, as Robin had been teaching the men to shoot. Several had really stood out, and of those, Robin had got to know three, Hunter, Matthew, who they all called Matt, and Christopher, which they all shortened to Chris. He had also got to know two men called Nick and Joseph, though he preferred to be called Joey. He got on well with the others, but they had all become particularly good friends, especially as all of them, aside from Chris, were under twenty, with Chris being twenty six. Robin also assumed that it was because they all treated him normally, and not like some kind of God sent Messiah. He sighed and called that the lesson was over. He strolled over to John, who was grinning at him. "What are you laughing at?" Robin grumbled. "Oh, just the fact that you get annoyed so easily..." He smirked. "Anyway, aren't you going to ask me how it went?" John had left yesterday morning, with Will, Chris and another, older outlaw, called Jase. The plan had been for them to find out what had happened in Nottingham during the last few weeks, since their escapade in the town. Robin sighed, "Fine. How'd it go?" He started to grin, "Find anything out about our mutual friend? How is the good Sheriff?" Robins annoyance had disappeared by the time John had finished telling him everything. "Well," he started, "First thing we noticed was that you seem to have become a hero. Someone has been sticking up copies of that message you left. And drawings of you. Someone is a pretty good artist, the were a brilliant likeness..." he seemed to travel somewhere in his mind "Yeah..." he said, in a detatched kind of way "It was a good likeness." He jumped as Chris lay a hand on his shoulder, laughing. "You telling him what we found?" he asked and pulled a sheet of paper from his waist pouch. He held it out to Robin, "Dont unfold it yet, Will wants to see." He called Will over, "Hey, Will. Robins about to look at it!" Robin was confused as they both burst out laughing, John joining in as Robin sent him a questioning look. He looked at the parchment and, unable to wait any longer, he unfolded it. He froze. It was a picture of him... but not him. He looked like he did when he looked in the mirror a few weeks ago. Heroic... defiant... and surrounded in a halo of light! He glared at the paper, then at the men who were laughing at his expression. "John..." he said, in a dangerously calm voice. "Do you know who drew these?  I am so fed up with being trested aa a bloody Messiah..." John tried to look serious, and failed. "We have a few leads, but we couldn't find him." He burst into laughter, and Will filled in. "Sorry, we couldnt resist. Your face is brilliant..." He handed him another slip of parchment. "We got you this too. Might make up for it." Robin took the parchment and quickly scanned it... then read it more  closely. His spirits soared. He turned to Will and the othes, who had gathered round, John, Chris, Hunter, Nick, Joey and Matt. "So," he laughed, "How do we sign up?"

Two weeks later, Robin, John, Chris, Hunter and Matt were all stood in a shooting range in Nottingham. They had spent the last week or so preparing for the archery contest. They each had disguises and were looking forward to causing mayhem. They signed in, with a guard who looked as though he would rather be elsewhere. They had no trouble giving in their names, saying they were a group of Nobles sons, travelling the country. Robin, who had changed the colour of his hair using a mixture of ash and oils, whilst leaving short bristles on his chin. Just these simple changes helped change his entire look. The others were likewise disguised, but they were sure that they were not well enough known to arouse suspiscion. Will, Nick and Joey preferred to be at the sidelines, seeing as they were not very good with a bow, at least, not good enough to stand any chance of winning. Though there was no chance of that when Robin was competing. They had taken up positions in the crowd, in case they needed to make a quick getaway. Robin glanced over at them as he took his place in the crowd of men waiting to shoot. He had been given the number 73, surprising him, as he did not realise so many would be competing. Then he recalled the prize. A Golden arrow and a kiss from the fair Maid Marian. Rumour had it that Prince John himself was trying to win her hand... Robin did not particularly care, he was just her to make a fool out of the Sheriff, seeing as he was meant to be competing. Sure enough, The Sheriff stepped out to take his shot. Robin had never seen him shoot before and was surprised when he shot a direct bullseye. Gradually, the crowd thinnened as the greater majority of them either hit the outer rings on the target or missed it all together. John managed to hit the bullseye on the rim, the others managed to hit the Bullseye aswell, then it was Robind turn. His arrow hit dead centre, and a oar erupted from the crowd. He was the last of the 89 contenders to make it through to the next rounds. Three rounds later, with the target being moved further away each time, and Only ten people were left, including Robin, the Sheriff and Hunter. Two rounds later and the number was knocked down to three, Robin, the Sheriff and another young man, a guard by the looks of it. Robin had become aware that he was attracting the attention of a great many people, and his skills were being described as being 'as good as the hood' he glanced at the others as the Sheriff stood to take his next shot, glad to see that they were keepng an eye on things, He shrugged his shoulders, asking them what he should do. They turned to each other, Mumbling, then turned back. Hunter mimed smashing and Robin grinned, nodding. Fine. Finish it and smash his competition. He turned and walked to take his next shot.

It was the final. Only Robin and the Sheriff were left, and the winner was the one who managed to hit the bullseye the most with the ten arrows, and if they wanted to risk it, the most stylsh way of doing it. The Sheriff had hit the Bullseye with all but one of his arrows, but which still landed just outside the black centre, but he had done some pretty good tricks. Robin stepped up. With the first three arrows, he showed a few different things, Shooting whilst his back was turned, shooting blindfolded and some such, but he knew he had to do something over the top if he was going to win. He grabbed five arrows and got ready to carry out th trick he had been practising in the forest for th last week and a half. Joh had only seen it once, btu the others had not seen it, only knowing that he was working on something new. He turned to John, mouthing the words, "Shall I?" John knew the risks. Robin had only been able to do it twice, and had only perfectd it two days ago, but he nodded, a grin on his face. Robin dropped to one knee and placed the arrows by his side. He head the crowd star to mumble with renewed interest. He notched an arrow and felt confidence spill through him. He could do this. He released the arrow, into the air. The fired another. The second arrow hit the first, sending it into the bullseye. He fired a third, hitting the second and doing the same thing. He fired the fourth and fifth, the pattern repeating. He drew a sixth, hitting the fifth, sending it into the centre of the target, and spinning in the air, heading back to him. He snagged from the air and fired it again, hitting the bullseye. The last arrow, he fired normally, and finished the letter on the board, a capitol H. It could mean a lot of things, but he meant it to stand for Hood. He heard the crowd burst into screams and applause, and saw the men stare at him, amazed. Even John was surprised, and he had seen it before. He turned, is grin falling from his face as he saw suspiscion in the Sheriffs eyes, and the eyes of several of the guards.
He decided on the risky approach, walking up to the Sheriff and holding his hand out, not meeting his eyes. "Good match," he said, in a slightly lower tone than his normal voice, and shook hands with the Sheriff. "Good match," he agreed unwillingly, then turned Robins attention to the raised Dais. "You seemed to have caught the attention of our beloved Prince John, not to mention the eye of the fair Maid Marion..." he told him. Robin gasped. "The Prince?" he asked, and panic filled him. If he was found out now... He saw the men running towards him and excused himself. "My apologies, My lord Sheriff, My brothers of the road seem rather excited." He was glad to see the Sheriffs suspiscious state ease a little as he heard himself addressed as lord. "Very well, I think you had better meet them then. Oh, one last thing," he said as Robin turned to walk away, "What is your name lad?" Robin bowed his head. "Robert sir," he replied and turned away. Only to be greeted by a group of men falling onto him, nearly pushing him to the floor.