Morning's First Light

You're the voice

Try and understand it

Make a noise and make it clear!

We're not gonna sit in silence

We're not gonna live with fear!

John Farnham – You're the Voice

Swallow could barely disguise the rush of adrenaline she felt whilst running pell-mell through the trees, Allan at her side. There were times, when she slipped on wet leaves or tripped over hidden rocks upon the forest floor that she had to bite back the shout of joy and the whoop of laughter which bubbled up from her gut, and instead had to content herself with running along with a bright smile stretched from ear to ear. She had been so worried about her future in the past few days that she had almost forgotten how much fun life could be. It was almost ironic how that constant fear for her life had evolved into something much more than that; a feeling of being truly alive for once. In the few days that she had known Robin and his friends, she had probably enjoyed herself more than the past few years combined.

Cedric was slowly pulling ahead of them, and for a moment it looked like he might make a clean get away, until Swallow noticed Robin and Much crouched inconspicuously behind a couple of thick-trunked beech trees. Allan clutched at her arm, and she ducked behind a nearby tree as well, allowing her heavy breathing to die down slightly, as their ears strained to pick up the sound of rumbling wheels as the cart picked its way along the forest track – the first one she had ever walked along, she realised with a short grin of amusement. It had really come full circle, hadn't it?

Cedric hailed the cart with a wave, and approached slowly while it groaned to a halt; the horse was clearly eager to be away and exuded a sort of nervous energy which could be picked up from even their hiding spot amongst the trees.

"Welcome back, lad!"

"Please tell me we are in business?"

"No…" The woman replied, her voice laced with the smug tone, which could only accompany that of a well-versed crook. "Not unless we want to be. We'll never have to be in business again." She added with an air of finality, as Flaxton patted the bench of the cart, indicating for the young lad to join them.

"Hurry up boy, come and sit next to your retirement!"

Robin swaggered across to them, as three arrows let fly and thudded resolutely into the wood behind them. The woman shrieked and ducked for cover as Robin spoke up, "Sorry, but there'll be no retiring today!"

"Is this him?" The woman asked, her voice trembling slightly, but otherwise, giving away no other evidence that she was worried by his appearance.

Flaxton, on the other hand, was outraged. "You should be dead!" He exclaimed, shocked further when Little John and Will ducked out from the trees behind them and revealed that not one member of the outlaws had been caught by the Sheriff. If this dismayed him, he did not show it.

"Oh many times over," Robin replied, eyebrows knitted together in a tight frown. He sounded flippant about it; nothing about his expression demonstrated the seething anger he so obviously felt, but at the same time Swallow knew that there was something more about that frown; it wasn't just for the sake of scaring the truth out of Flaxton – the outlaw was clearly fraught with the tension brought by their very slim escape.

"How did you escape?" Flaxton was astonished.

"Oh, with a bit of a wriggle." Robin added, a mischievous glint returning to his eyes. "And a pop of the shoulders." He pushed Cedric away, ignoring Flaxton as he berated the boy for not checking he was alone.

"Listen, we've not taken from you. We were never after you." The woman recovered herself, and tried to bargain her way out of danger.

"No! We were just the bait!" Allan remarked, indignantly. Swallow snorted with sarcasm; Allan did have a point, but he was just as likely to have tried the same thing in the past. He caught her laugh and glanced up at her briefly, grinning slightly in return.

The boy, Cedric, chuckled mirthlessly. "Get over it." He remarked coldly.

Without a seconds warning, Will backhanded him mercilessly.

"You get over it. You might as well have been tax collectors, you do exactly the same thing."

Swallow whistled slowly in appreciation. Will's scathing remark coupled with the force of his slap had sent the boy reeling. She was amazed.

The woman tried valiantly to win back the argument, saying, "You can talk. You live on the wrong side of the law, just like us."

"That is because the law itself has become criminal." Robin countered calmly. "England is rotting from the top down."

"Then why stay?" The others had seemed to have missed the sudden switch the woman had made. Her voice had switched from a calm, lilting tone, to one sultrier and almost seductive. Robin leaned forward, almost as if to consider the woman's question, and Swallow suddenly found herself wondering whether he even knew what he was doing.

"We are going to Holland to set ourselves up as nobles."

Little John caught her eye, suspicion flaring almost instantaneously. It seemed he had caught on to the woman's plans as well. He shrugged at her, in answer to her questioning glance. It seemed there was nothing they could do.

"Why not join us? We would make a wonderful combination." Robin's eyebrows quirked slightly in amusement. Apparently he had also caught on to her plan, finally.

"There are many more fools like the Sheriff of Nottingham in this world and it is our duty to cheat them."

"They're greedy." Flaxton chipped in. "That's why they're so easy to trick." He smiled smugly, believing that they had caught Robin with their trap of lies. Swallow privately wondered if they were half right; their proposition was tempting.

"Join us. With our strategies and your remarkable talent-" She leant forward and approached Robin, getting closer and closer. Swallow knew where this was going; she would obviously try and seduce him into changing sides.

"Oh god," she muttered out loud, mortified that Robin would go to such lengths to have the last laugh. As they kissed, the looks shared between Much and Will were that of alarm – was Robin seriously considering their proposal? Then Much's eyebrows quirked, not dissimilar to the way Robin's did; Swallow realised that Much's reaction was somewhat resigned compared to that of Will and Allan. Apparently this happened a lot.

She broke away slightly to whisper in his ear "It would be so different. Forget the others, just you and me."

Allan's mouth dropped open as they resumed kissing. "What's he doing?" He blurted out, looking absolutely clueless.

"Well, Allan. When a lord and a lady like each other very much-" Swallow muttered crudely, grinning as she was interrupted by the uncomfortable chuckles of the others.

"Now do you see what I have to put up with?" Much exclaimed as they broke away.

"What do you say?"

Robin paused for a second, before replying in the same conniving tone as the woman. "I say…" He paused again, turning to give a meaningful look at John. "Little John?"

John grinned and without further prompting grabbed Flaxton and shoved him backwards amid raucous laughter. Swallow jumped backwards, trying to avoid the splattering of pig muck as the two conmen landed in the back of the cart. Much was highly appreciative of their dismayed reactions.

"You are pigs! And you are in slops!" He rejoiced, amongst the laughter of the others.

Robin rummaged amongst the muck for a minute, before pulling out a leather pouch filled to the brim with gold coins. "You wouldn't have wanted to retire on this any way," He remarked, before adding with a cheeky wink "Dirty money." Swallow groaned at his awful pun, before rushing forward with the others, trying to grab as much of the money as possible.

"Not bad for a day's work," remarked Allan that afternoon, as he stretched out on the grassy bank. The others murmured their assent, before returning to dozing in the warm sunlight. Swallow sat making daisy chains as Robin and Much made their way discreetly into the village below and approached the man watching over a group of Longhorn cattle. They had spent the past few hours riding from village to village handing out the tax money to those who had animals, hopefully preventing that awful butcher in Nottingham from selling poisoned meat. By cutting out the middle man, meat would be delivered straight to the villages most in need whilst staying fresh and hopefully, illness would be eradicated.

They were meant to be providing back up for Robin and Much, but as Allan had pointed out, the villages were quiet enough for a late afternoon and they were just too tired to stand. So as soon as Robin had left to speak with the herdsmen, he had stretched himself out on the grass and drifted off to doze. Occasionally he spouted out the odd remark or two, but more often than not, Swallow was sat in a comfortable silence as the others slept the day away.

Oddly, making daisy chains was extremely therapeutic and she found herself daydreaming whilst she did so. Her crown of daisies slipped down across her face momentarily and she let out a small squeak of surprise before righting it. Allan groaned his annoyance at being disturbed, but she thumped his foot in reply.

"Shut up Allan, or I'll make you your very own daisy chain."

He murmured something in reply, but whether it was offensive or not, she could not tell. "And I will make you wear it." She continued, scathingly, chuckling as he moaned in response, rolling away down the hill part way in his desperate attempt to avoid her.

Robin and Much had evidently finished their talk with the men down in the village and had turned back to meet them. Swallow leapt to her feet and kicked Allan awake urgently. He looked up bleary eyed, about to make some sort of comment, which would almost certainly ensure his coronation until he realised that the others were already saddling up. Sighing despairingly, he followed.