Work Text:
No Longer Friends
Nottingham Town. Trip to Jerusalem Inn.
As twilight was giving place to night, Allan quietly entered the tavern. His anxious heart was pounding in his chest like a hammer, and he looked back, as if fearing that he was being followed by someone who could uncover his dark secret – him becoming the unwilling informant of Guy of Gisborne and his betrayal of Robin Hood and the outlaws. His guilty conscience was as thick as the sickening smell of human sweat mingled with wine and ale.
I have to finish this today, or one day Robin will realize that I betrayed him. He is too smart and conniving, and he will figure out, eventually, why Vaisey and Gisborne have been one step ahead of us in the past few months. And I just cannot do this anymore to Robin and my friends. Allan clenched his hands into tight fists, trying to hold in the deep emotions of shame, guilt, and worthlessness which were assaulting him. Several days ago, he had made up his mind to stop all contacts with the demon clad in black leather.
Allan stopped in the middle of the room and glanced around. There were not many people in the inn at this hour as many visitors had left with descending darkness. His eyes were darting in all directions as Allan searched for the woman named Joan. As his gaze stopped on a young blonde woman, he cautiously followed her into the adjacent room, keeping his hand on the hilt of his sword lest some adversary was awaiting him there.
Joan measured Allan with an attentive gaze. She said evenly, “You’re late. I was going to keep your money back.” She retrieved the bag from inside the room while Allan checked up the stairs. She shook it slightly as she walked over to Allan and tossed it on a tall, round table. She chuckled and spoke in a voice laced with delight. “Silver, not gold.”
Allan put his hand on the purse, finding his mind and his heart suddenly torn between the burning desire to take the coins and the stinging guilt that was devouring him from the inside out. His guilt intensified as he remembered Roger of Stoke’s death at Guy’s hands, and his gut clenched at the realization of him being complicit in the murder of Robin’s innocent friend. Wave after wave of shame washed over him until he felt that he was almost drowning. The whole mixture of all these negative feelings was threatening to swallow him whole.
After a moment’s dithering, Allan pulled himself together, and his resolve solidified. He then declared resolutely, “You’re gonna tell Gisborne to keep this money. I’m not doing this anymore, alright? I’ve changed.”
“It’s a bit late for a conscience, isn’t it?” mocked a smirking Joan.
All of a sudden, a familiar voice intruded on their privacy. “Yeah, very late.”
A striped-fletched arrow hit the purse under Allan’s hand, spilling out some of the silver coins. A scared Joan gasped and stepped back, her frantic eyes wandering around. Allan felt his heart constrict in his chest, as if a hand were clutching it and squeezing the life out of it, and he immediately realized that he had been found out. An expression of mortal terror swept across his features, and dread filled him to the core.
“Robin,” murmured a shocked Allan.
As Allan stepped back, Robin entered the room, his face contorted in fury that was like a menacing aura about him. He passed the bow to his right hand and sauntered to Allan, each of his slow steps marking the impending retribution for the traitor of Robin Hood’s gang. Putting his bow on a table as he passed it, Robin stopped and leaned on Allan’s table.
Looking Allan in the eye, Robin could feel only pained bewilderment as he considered the ramifications of recent events. Inborn wickedness, immeasurable cruelty, excessive greed, obsession with power, and moral malaise – these things were all Vaisey and Gisborne’s streaks, but not Allan’s. This man whom Robin had saved twice after his return from the Crusade was a thief and a liar, but he was not like Gisborne. Robin’s disbelief was as palpable as the scent of wood and earth which clung to his clothes.
Robin lingered his censorious gaze on Allan. You said that you never had home until you met me and joined us in our quest for justice. You assured me that you longed to have a home, and you had it with us. Allan, why did you betray the lads and me? Why? How could you do this low, dastardly deed? Why, Robin wondered, had all that gone so wrong? Robin Hood’s men were Allan’s family, his support, and his home. Robin couldn’t fathom why Allan had committed this ultimate betrayal. It reminded him of how he felt during his sea voyages. As a man at home in his beloved Sherwood Forest, being adrift in the ocean had been disorienting and unnerving for Robin. There were no obvious paths across the endless waves, and there was no obvious explanation for the treachery of Allan.
Robin hadn’t known whom he would meet in the inn. For all he knew, it could be Will, John, or Djaq, but not Much who was utterly loyal to him and had proved that in the Holy Land countless times over and over again. His heart ached with guilt that he had suspected his ever-loyal former manservant only a few hours ago, and he also regretted hitting Will today. Robin resolved to apologize to his friends later; to do something he rarely did in his life and what he ought to do more often because, at times, he was callous even to his friends.
“You’re early,” Allan choked out.
Robin cast a brief look at the servant girl; then he veered his gaze to Allan, staring at him with eyes flashing with intense ire. Addressing Joan, he growled in a low voice, “Leave us.”
Allan interposed, “Stay there.”
“Get out!” shouted an incensed Robin.
Being aware of how dangerous it was to be in the presence of a furious Robin Hood, Joan didn’t need to be told again what she was expected to do. She swung the towel over her shoulder and stormed out, closing the door behind her.
Glaring fiercely at Allan, Robin hissed between clenched teeth, “I need to talk to my spy.” He felt like a red-hot anger was burning him, as if his blood were boiling in his veins. In a few heartbeats, he stepped aside and walked towards the fireplace.
Allan sighed with a semblance of relief. He was in a terrible situation, and maybe his life was in jeopardy, but at least Robin wasn’t attacking him straight away. “What was that with Will? You banished Will,” he murmured in a trembling voice.
Robin turned around and snapped, “It was an act!” He stepped towards Allan, pointing at the door. “Only she knew who was guilty. And I knew the spy would want to come here before me to cover his tracks. For all I knew, it could have been…” He paused for a split second, and leaned on Allan’s table. He went on. “… Will standing there.”
His mind racing with the implications of Robin’s words, Allan leaned back on the post near the bottom of the stairs. Almost absently, he noticed that his hands were shaking, and more than any other time since he had first met the hero and joined the band of outlaws in Sherwood, he wished desperately that he had never accepted Guy’s offer to spy on Robin in exchange for a generous reward. He respected, admired, and loved Robin and the outlaws, and a feeling of deep regret was corroding his heart as he had sold all of his friends for coins.
Gazing into Robin’s eyes that were blazing like a raging fire that consumed all in its path, Allan felt as frightened as he had ever been in his life. He distinguished a peculiar blend of feelings in Robin’s eyes: ire, loathing, disappointment, and, perhaps, even pain, alternating with a blinding fury that spoke about his leader’s desire to end his treacherous life here and now. The urge to flee was overpowering, and his instinct of self-preservation dictated Allan to save himself, but his desire to explain his situation was equally strong.
There was no time for further reflection as Robin broke the silence. “But it’s not... is it?” continued the legendary outlaw in a deadly voice that was surprisingly calm but sent chills down Allan’s spine. He stepped round the table to Allan, and quietly said, “It’s you.”
Allan swallowed nervously, his mouth suddenly dry like last year’s straw. “Robin, it was over. You ask her. I made a decision.”
“Then what’s this?” Robin glanced at the purse.
“No. I was giving it back,” responded Allan sincerely.
Robin scoffed. “So you’d betray me, you’d betray yourself, you’d betray your king, for what? For a few silver coins. What have you told Gisborne, Allan?”
Allan averted his eyes and heaved a morbid sigh. He didn’t know whether he should speak his mind, and he wasn’t even convinced that Robin would listen to him. As he thought of his betrayal, pangs of guilt resurfaced, loud and clear, like a clanging bell. All at once, he was fairly positive that if he had to suffer at anyone’s hands, he would much prefer Robin Hood to the brutal punishment Gisborne would mete out at him, or at least he thought he would.
“Huh?” a sound came from Robin.
Allan flicked his gaze back to Robin and muttered, “I... Nothing, really.”
A low, dangerous mutter erupted from Robin’s mouth. From somewhere deep in him, a hot lava of anger was churning upward, a harbinger of the explosion that could come in the next few minutes. He was so outraged that all that he wanted was to grab the traitor and beat him within an inch of his life. Allan’s last incoherent words enraged him even more, but Robin tempered his ire to continue the interrogation. He had a set of certain questions to the traitor.
Robin demanded, “Does he know about the camp?
“No!” Allan responded earnestly but quietly.
One thing worried Robin the most: Allan knew that Marian was the Nightwatchman and his spy at the castle. With his beloved’s safety uppermost in his mind, he felt an excruciating sense of disquietude eating at his vitals. He found it most urgent to inquire what information about Marian Allan had passed on to Guy. “No? Does he know about Marian?”
“No,” repeated Allan.
Robin raised his brows and narrowed his eyes. “More lies?”
A fresh wave of dread washed over Allan; a feeling so strong that for a moment, he felt dizzy. All he wanted was to find a sanctuary that would allow him to avoid facing Robin. A chasmal regret knifed through him, and he thought that, if only Robin would forgive him, then he would never again meet with Gisborne.
Perhaps, he could try to coax Robin into forgiving him, Allan mused. If Robin attacked him, Allan would be easily defeated since he lacked the fighting expertise of Robin Hood. Allan anxiously wondered what his leader would do if he informed him about the events on the day when Guy had caught him and Robin had been at the castle but hadn’t rescued him.
Allan was desperate to offer what he believed would be a powerful, convincing argument in his defense. “No! This was the last time, I promise... and I was wrong. But he captured me, Robin, tortured me. I had no choice–“
Unfortunately, a furious Robin wasn’t the slightest bit interested in Allan’s excuses. He didn’t allow Allan to continue and grabbed his shoulders. Glaring into the traitor’s eyes, he spoke in a sibilant voice. “Everything is a choice! Everything we do!” He then relinquished his grip on Allan and started to stalk towards the fireplace.
Initially perplexed, Allan’s anger at his insufferable leader began to mount; he was convinced that Robin wasn’t even attempting to understand him. In a fit of discontent, he blurted out, “That’s easy for you to say, though, isn’t it?”
Robin turned and slowly ambled to him. Many questions flew through his head, crashing down upon him like a rapid succession of blows directed at a losing combatant. What should he do now? Should he silence Allan forever in order to ensure the safety of his Marian and the gang? Could he allow the traitor to live and risk information leakage? His heart thudding painfully, Robin sighed dejectedly, his mind in turmoil and confusion.
More questions entered Robin’s mind. Why did you put me in this terrible position, Allan? Why didn’t you tell me that Gisborne had captured and forced you into cooperation with him after he released you and you returned to the forest? We would have solved this problem together, but you lied to all of us. If only you brought the truth out into the open when I offered everyone to confess, I would have forgiven you, but you kept silent. Now it didn’t matter, because there was no way Robin could trust Allan anymore, but, to his growing dismay, he wasn’t sure that he would be able to take the traitor’s life.
Allan’s voice startled Robin out of his reverie as the blonde outlaw continued his verbal assault. “Eh? You get the glory, you get the girl, everyone loves you. Then when the king comes back you’ll have lands, property, a wife... everything! And what will I have?”
Robin briefly turned away, barely holding onto his temper. He couldn’t comprehend how Allan dared say such things after his vile betrayal. Was Allan a man without any shred of honor? His bafflement and rage were growing at a breakneck speed. To murder Allan would give him much pleasure, but to do that now would indeed be a plum. Yet, some invisible strength prevented Robin from cutting the thread of Allan’s life.
Allan was no longer able to contain his annoyance and exasperation with Robin. “You are always in the sun, Robin, and I’m always in the shade.”
That was enough to drive Robin to the brink of insanity. He roughly pushed Allan up against the post, and barked wrathfully, “Is that meant to be an excuse? Huh?”
Allan grasped his mistake straight away; he should have chosen his words more carefully. A knot of icy fear formed in his stomach, and he beseeched, “Give me another chance... please. I wouldn’t have let Gisborne hurt any of us. I’ve never told him anything like that.”
Robin regarded the other man with disdain, hiding his surprise at Allan’s entreaty which he hadn’t anticipated hearing. “Harmless lies? Innocent betrayals? They don’t exist, Allan!”
Feeling a little braver, Allan countered swiftly, “Robin, I’ve changed. How can I get you to believe that?” The fragrance of hope wafted through him that Robin would believe him.
However, Robin decimated the traitor’s last vestiges of hope in the next instant. “You can’t,” he stated curtly, shaking his head. “And the funny thing is... you might be telling the truth.”
“I am!” exclaimed Allan earnestly.
For a few moments, Robin was confused as to what to do next, his mind beleaguered by a great many pressing thoughts and wandering through a maze of possible solutions. He didn’t know what to respond, and a small part of him cried to give credence to Allan’s words. Then his rage at the other man prevailed, and Robin asked in a tight voice, “And how am I supposed to believe you anymore?” He let Allan go; his hands went to his sides.
“Robin, I swear to you on my life.” Allan’s voice was pleading.
Suddenly, Robin pulled out his dagger and held it under Allan’s chin. As the two men stared at one another, Robin thought wistfully about the trust and affection which he had felt for Allan before the revelation of his treachery. Now they were no longer friends. The word ‘enemies’ rang in their ears, filling the echoing spaces of their minds with the ceaseless din of their pitiless inner voices which all proclaimed the end of Allan’s fight alongside the merry men.
For a split second, no word came from Robin as he contemplated all the existing options. He did not want Marian to live in the castle where danger lurked in every hallway, and Allan could put her life in more awful jeopardy. There was also a chance that Allan would help Gisborne snare Robin into a trap during one of their raids on the castle, or that he, Robin, would be stealthily captured somewhere in Sherwood and brought to the sheriff. A severe perturbation painted itself on Robin’s countenance before it turned angry.
Having deciphered Robin’s hesitation, Allan seized the chance and begged, “Don’t kill me. Please.” He prayed that his leader would not brush his plea aside.
After a moment’s pause, Robin made up his mind on a course of action: his heart called to him to treat friends who turned traitors and all other traitors alike, but he was unable to take Allan’s life, for part of him still liked the blonde outlaw a bit. In some strange way, he felt that one day Allan would probably make up for the wrongs he had caused, and that played an integral role in his decision to let this liar live. But for now, thousands of Allan’s apologies would not suffice Robin despite a vein of regret pulsing in him.
Rage flickering in his pale blue eyes, Robin jerked the knife and severed the string of Allan’s outlaw tag. Allan winced and shuddered in horror, expecting to be killed in the next moment. But no blow followed, and, instead, Robin put his hand on Allan’s shoulder, glowering at him with utter loathing and at the same time, odd resignation. At that moment, Robin looked like a man who expected to bear the sacrifice of letting his former friend go with a resignation that was a duty of a great leader like him.
In a low, colorless voice, Robin announced, “You’re lucky I’ve left you with a life to swear upon. Never, never let me set eyes on you again.” He stared at Allan a moment, and a tide of anger rolled over him again, making him look as if he were going to attack not only Allan but also to launch an archery barrage on the whole town of Nottingham. Then Robin swiveled and stalked towards the exit, picking up his bow on the way out.
Allan blew out a sigh of enormous relief that Robin was gone. He was still alive, and he was free! Robin was in a rampant temper from the start, and now Allan comprehended that no explanations, pleas, and other words could soothe Robin’s exacerbated nerves. Then a sense of regret and pain filled Allan’s heart at the thought that he had lost the friendship of Robin and the outlaws, and he no longer had a place to return to.
Allan’s head overflowed with morose thoughts. As much as I long to go back to Sherwood, I never will. Robin will kill me without hesitation. I cannot look into my friends’ eyes. Or are they my friends? They will hate me when Robin confirms that I worked for Gisborne. And Robin is still not aware that Roger of Stoke is dead. There was no way back for him to the woods, and Allan didn’t really know what to do and where to go, feeling as if he were a sailor who had no inkling of his route in an upcoming voyage.
Allan suddenly found himself in the grip of painful, ravaging emotions, swirling and crashing against each other and tumbling messily, and he was powerless to overcome them. Was there a word, Allan wondered, for what he was feeling now? He had never been so lonely, so devastated, and so terrified, and had never felt so vulnerable and helpless. Allan felt as if he were standing on the brink of Armageddon, but his misfortunes were only his fault. His days in Sherwood had been only a fleeting moment of ephemeral happiness before the world fell apart due to the wrong choices he had made. Now there was only darkness ahead.