'You cannot do it, can you?' De Falaise grinned that smug grin of his. 'You cannot just kill me like this, defenceless.'
Gwen pulled the trigger.
The gun clicked empty.
De Falaise's eyes widened, then he began to laugh.
Gwen saw red. She threw the useless pistol at him and took out the knife from her pocket, the one she'd originally intended on using.
'I am afraid that mine is much bigger than yours.' He held up the sabre to illustrate.
Gwen didn't care. She ran at him anyway, shouting at the top of her voice.
She was stopped in mid-lunge by something hard plunging into her shoulder, sending her spinning. It was De Falaise's second in command, firing one of his crossbow bolts at her – the only thing causing him to miss, a young boy hanging on to his leg.
Gwen toppled sideways, falling away from the laughing Sheriff. He was slipping out of her reach. But before she fell off the side of the platform completely, she threw the knife with her one good arm.
It landed in De Falaise's thigh.
As she dropped, uncertain of where she would land, she at least had the satisfaction of hearing the Frenchman let out a shrill yelp.
Then she was tumbling away, falling and hitting her head. Before she lost her grip on consciousness, she looked up, and it was then that she saw the helicopter flying overhead, much closer than it should be to the ground.
The Sioux came in to land with a bump, not far from the war memorial.
Robert and Bill jolted forwards, but both chopper doors were wide open within seconds, while the blades were still turning. Bill took up his shotgun, Robert had bow and arrow ready again.
On their sprint up the incline, Robert bagged a couple of soldiers and Bill opened fire over the heads of two more, causing them to drop their rifles and run off in alarm.
They ran up the path – back up towards the platform and the scene they'd just passed over. 'I'll take the left, you take the right,' Robert told him.
On the right, there was Tanek, reaching down to grab Mark again – to shoot him finally with a bolt to the head. On the left were De Falaise and Mary.
Bill aimed his shotgun at the bigger man and ordered him to let Mark go. The olive-skinned giant looked at him like he was speaking gibberish. Then he pointed the crossbow in Bill's direction. He fired, but at the same time Mark produced Tanek's own discarded dagger and rammed it with all the strength he had left, through the man's foot.
Tanek did make a noise this time, but it was more a growl than a scream.
The bolt hadn't flown straight, though it had found Bill – lodging itself into his pelvis. As he dropped, though, the farmer squeezed his own trigger. The blast hit Tanek in the middle of his chest, sending him reeling backwards with a grunt. The whole platform shook when he fell, but he didn't get up again.
Robert, meanwhile, had an arrow trained on De Falaise's head. But the Frenchman already had a dazed Mary pulled close to him, and he took this opportunity to bring the sabre up to her throat.
'The real Hooded Man, I presume.' said the Sheriff.
Robert's eyes narrowed. 'You know who I am. And I know you.'
'Indeed.' De Falaise kept Mary between him and the line of arrow fire. 'You care for this woman, I can see that. I can use that.' He looked all around him at the devastation, looked back over his shoulder to see Tanek lying on the deck, then he added: 'And much as it pains me to leave before we have had a chance to get properly acquainted, there is a saying that seems appropriate: Prudence est mere de surete; Discretion is the better part of valour. And so I will live to fight another day, non?' He began to drag Mary backwards with him, limping – a knife still in his leg. Robert kept his arrow on him the whole time, but couldn't risk a shot.
He dragged Mary down the rear set of steps, disappearing from sight. Robert skirted around the side of the platform, missing only a few moments. But by the time he rounded it, De Falaise and Mary were almost at the farthest end of the lawn; almost at a truck parked there.
'You've got to let her go to climb inside, you bastard,' said Robert under his breath.
But De Falaise managed to keep Mary in front of him as he got into the cab of the truck, sitting her on his knee. The engine started up, the vehicle shuddering.
'Damn it! Jack… Jack, get Mark off the platform – right now!' Robert kept a bead on the vehicle as it powered towards them, but also kept an eye on what was happening on the gallows. Jack had managed to drag Mark to the edge and then over it, both of them tumbling off the right hand side of the platform. The truck clipped the left hand side, ramming through it, just missing Bill and a prone auburn-haired woman. Robert barely had time to dive out of the way, rolling as the truck tipped over the incline and drove down past the helicopter, scattering people as it went.
Robert raised his head in time to see the truck power through the devastated side gate and out onto the street.
His eyes flicked back to the helicopter, its rotor still turning. 'Bill…' he called out on his way over to the man. 'Are you in a fit state to fly?'
'Does it bloody well look like it?' Bill replied, nursing his wound. 'Judas fucking Priest, I can't even get up!' He thumbed back towards the helicopter. 'And I doubt if she will, neither.'
Robert ground his teeth. The truck could be heading in any direction, even if he could get to a jeep or truck in time to follow. The helicopter was the only option if he was to find De Falaise and stop him.
Bow in hand, he began down the path, ignoring the calls from Bill and Jack.
What are you doing? What exactly are you doing, Robert? he asked himself. He couldn't fly, not even with a chopper that was in any fit state to get off the ground. Robert knew all this and still he had to try.
It was Mary's only hope. God alone knew what would happen to her once she no longer served her purpose as a hostage. That lunatic De Falaise…
He tried not to think about it as he threw the bow into the cockpit, then climbed in himself. Closing his eyes he visualised what Bill had done before take off, remembered what he'd said about lightness of touch.
With one hand on the collective and one hand on the cyclic, he attempted his first ever take off.
For long moments nothing happened, and Robert wondered if this was because of the state of the battered machine. But then, all of a sudden, and with a lot of mental encouragement from its pilot, the Sioux lifted a few feet off the ground.
'At-a-girl,' said Robert, coaxing more height from her. Once he was high enough to make it over the castle entrance, he pushed the chopper forward, practically kangarooing it, bouncing onto the other side. It would never get up to the height it had before, but Robert was hoping he could get at least high enough to see where the truck was going.
As he lifted away, he saw the devastation of the battle he was leaving behind. His men were pretty much mopping up, and those soldiers who were left were surrendering in droves since De Falaise had cut and run. There would be time for sorting all that out later – time to find out how Mark was later. Right now, all he could think about was getting Mary safely back.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Wake up Moo-Moo – you're in serious trouble. Even worse than the last time.
She heard David's voice rousing her, but it seemed so far away.
Moo-Moo, please wake up. The Sheriff has you as a hostage. You're driving through the streets of Nottingham in an army truck and when you get far enough away he's just going to kill you and dump you. Moo-Moo, are you listening to me! Mary! MARY!
That did it. David very rarely called her by her proper name, only when he was angry with her about something. Right now, that would appear to be because she was going to die. Mary opened her eyes a fraction, looking to the side. She saw De Falaise in his dress uniform, hunched over the wheel of the truck. A knife was
