The other men only really began to register what was happening when two more of their team went down. They ran then, not so much turkeys now as soon to be headless chickens. Javier looked around him, screaming as more men were picked off.
'What is he doing?' asked De Falaise, watching as Javier dropped to his knees 'Is he praying? I don't believe it, he actually is! How pathetic.'
'What should I do?' Reinhart enquired.
'You have your orders.
The Dutchman picked a spot on his target, the side of Javier's head. It would take all of his skill and precision; very delicate shooting indeed. Reinhart blew away the Mexican's right ear. Though neither of the men on the roof could hear his cries from this far away, they almost felt they could. Javier clutched at the red mess the bullet had made, hands shaking.
'No, it is far too late to repent, my friend,' De Falaise said in hushed tones, then he radioed the troops he had on the ground, ordering them to bring the injured Javier to him at the castle..
CHAPTER ELEVEN
It came again, the dream of water and fire.
Of De Falaise and his men.
But something was different this time, something that gave Robert hope. When the soldiers appeared brandishing their weapons, when De Falaise began his walk across the lake, Robert realised he was not observing it alone. Not only was Mark by his side, Robert was joined by others, too. Bill was there, as were Tate and Granger, plus another man that wasn't so well defined. Behind them all stood a further line of defence, the new recruits who had chosen Robert over their former master. De Falaise's face fell when he saw this united front. He was no longer dealing with just one rebel, but a group.
It came to the point in the dream where the Frenchman was about to shoot Max – but Robert was ready for him this time. Hands tried to stop him, but he ran across the lake of flames – towards De Falaise – the burning liquid somehow solid beneath his feet. Max was morphing into the stag once more, but the stag was also transforming. It was like watching one of those old Universal movies where the wolfman changed in dissolves under the influence of the full moon. The stag was taking on human features. De Falaise appeared totally oblivious to this – still intent on shooting the creature.
'Stop!' shouted Robert, notching an arrow. For some reason he felt sure that if the stag-man died, everything would be lost.
De Falaise laughed. Then pulled the trigger.
Robert could see the bullet leaving the chamber, as though it moved in slow motion, but he was powerless to stop it. The stag had changed into a man, though it still wore its antlers. The creature turned just before the bullet struck.
Robert drew in a sharp breath when he recognised the face. The features were his own.
He recoiled in terror, the bow falling from his grasp as he witnessed his death at De Falaise's hands. But more than that, Robert was now the one facing the bullet, was now in its path, helpless to get out of its way.
Time speeded up and the darkness was deafening.
Robert was being shaken.
'Wake up-'
Robert was not only awake, he was also holding his knife blade to this person's throat. He tried to focus on whoever had interrupted his sleep. It was one of his new 'guests', a member of Granger's old gang. After seeing what Robert had done to their unit, anyone would have thought he'd take more care. Robert asked him what he wanted, lowering his weapon.
'S-S-Someone.' stuttered the lad, eyes still on the knife. 'Mark says he saw someone enter the forest, told me to get you quickly.'
Robert let him go, pulling the weapon away. 'Tell him I'm coming.' He watched the envoy scramble back and out of the tent, glad that he hadn't accidentally hurt him. But he still wasn't used to having people around, even after a week or more and a move deeper into the mature woodland areas of the forest. It would take a while to adjust.
The suggestion had been put forward that they make use of Rufford Abbey or the visitors' centre at Sherwood itself – at least then there would be a roof over their heads. Robert had reminded them that they would be one of the first places De Falaise's troops would search, and would be infinitely harder to escape from.
'You want a siege on your hands, that's the right way to go about it,' he told them. 'Here you have cover, roughly 450 acres of forest, and you have the element of surprise. It was how I got the jump on you lot, remember?'
In truth that centre held too many memories for him. It was one of the occasional bank holiday haunts he and Stevie would visit: going in the shops and buying souvenirs; taking photos; walking the trail to see the Major Oak, its branches being held up by poles now because of age. His son would marvel at the history connected with it, would imagine the outlaws hiding their stolen goods there before tackling the Sheriff's men.
Robert never thought that he'd be doing it for real.
He grabbed his bow and arrows. Walking through the camp he saw Granger and some of the others asleep in the army-issue sleeping bags from the trucks, the blackened remains of the fire from the night before now a charred heap. He'd show them how to build their own shelters at some point, along with a few other things, but for now he had other matters to deal with. Like the figure Mark had spotted. The kid was turning into quite the little lookout.
Seeing Mark, Robert went over to him.
'What is it?'
'A bloke, really big. He came into the forest not long ago.'
'Did he see you?'
'Naw, I kept well away. Looked like he meant business by the way he was sneaking through the trees.'
'Was he armed?'
'Couldn't really tell.' admitted Mark. 'What're you thinking?'
'I'm thinking the Frenchman has sent an assassin. He couldn't get me by brute force, so he's trying the complete opposite. All right, take me to the last place you saw him.'
'You're going up against him alone?'
'Better that way, only myself to worry about.'
'I don't think you understand how big this guy is. I mean, he's fu… well, he's huge.'
Robert didn't show that the size bothered him, but he was thinking back to what Granger had said about De Falaise's men – about one man in particular he'd called Tanek. 'Just take me there,' he said to Mark. The boy nodded, then led him into the undergrowth.
They'd been travelling ten or fifteen minutes, heads down, moving swiftly but silently, when Robert heard the noise. The snap of wood underfoot. A foot far too heavy to be that of a woodland creature. Robert tapped Mark on the shoulder then signalled for him to stay and keep low.
Robert nimbly climbed the nearest tree, bow slung over his shoulder. From the upper branches, he surveyed the scene, and didn't have to look too far to see the trespasser. Mark had been right, the man was gigantic! If anything, the description he'd given had been an understatement. He wasn't dressed in a uniform like the rest of De Falaise's men, but instead wore clothes pretty similar to Robert's, designed to camouflage him. A cap was pulled down low on his head, obscuring his features.
He couldn't see any weapons but Robert knew they could well be concealed about his person. Robert shifted his weight on the branch and notched an arrow. Best to take this bloke out in one, clean shot, he thought. But before he had time to pull back the string, the man turned and threw something in Robert's direction. A stone came hurtling towards him.
Robert flung himself out of its way, but in the process lost his footing and tumbled from the tree. He forced himself to relax as he fell and managed to land without breaking anything. When Robert looked up, he discovered
