The Hooded Man

Part 1

Awakenings II

Author: Frau Hunter Ash

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Disclaimers: The names of all characters contained here-in are the property of Rob Tapert. No Infringements of these copyrights are intended, and are used here without permission. All original characters belong solely to Frau Hunter Ash and cannot be used without written permission. The characters and show all belong to Rob Tapert and God only knows who else. The storyline, however, is the sole property of the author. This story cannot be sold or used for profit in any way. Copies of this story may be made for private use only and must include all disclaimers and copyright notices.

F/F romance: the story may assume a loving and sexual relationship between people of the same and opposite genders and may even include 3 at the same time. If this offends or is illegal for you, then please leave. Come back when you are older, have an open mind, moved, or have changed your laws.

Summary: Traveling from Russia and the Viking settlers, Xena and Gabrielle work into acceptable societal roles in England and make their way to Sherwood Forest where they intend on aiding a famous outlaw and band. The stakes are personal for the Warrior and Bard, however. Robin isn’t an ordinary outlaw and Xena and Gabrielle must find a way to keep him from fulfilling the obvious doomed role he’s in.

Rating: FRT

Pairings: Xena/Gabrielle, m/m

Notes: This continues the Awakenings Series. More chapters to follow and more stories jumping around through the centuries centered around Xena, Gabrielle and, possibly, their offspring. Hope you enjoy visiting our Warrior and Bard again.

The Hooded Man

Awakenings II series, Book 1

Frau Hunter Ash

hunterash@sti.net

www.hunterash.com

Part 1

The men riding lead in the small group of riders escorting a carriage glanced around nervously. Their noble-lady had reassured them they would be safe traveling this thick, dark forest but they all knew the stories, the tales of outlaws who could place an arrow in your throat before you even knew the outlaws were anywhere near.

The men’s chainmail seemed heavier and the noises from the horses reins, bridles, wagon noises, everything seemed amplified, like horns announcing the presence of a nobleman with money. Something you didn’t want to be in Sherwood Forest in the reign of King Richard with his brother temporarily on the throne.

“We’re taking the road right through the forest!” Aelred hissed to Wybert, the captain of the small guard escorting the Lady Theresa of Dover to the Shire that contained the forest of Sherwood.

“Quiet fool!” Wybert snapped. He glanced around and shook his head. “She insisted on this track.”

The horses of both men suddenly reared up as arrows appeared in the ground ahead of them, the familiar hiss of their flight following immediately. Wybert shouted, holding up a hand to stop the small group. “Hold your hands!” he yelled as men reached for their swords.

Both Wybert and Aelred held their sword hands up, waiting with their hearts pounding in their ears as they tried to control their spooked horses.

It seemed as if the trees came to life as men dropped from the shelter of the leaves from ropes while others peered from the trees, arrows notched and ready to fly.

“Hold your hands!” Wybert repeated to his men. “We mean no harm!” he shouted to the bandits.

“Hold your place Normans,” a voice demanded, the last to drop from the trees. A young man, Wybert thought, by his build, young voice and agility. It was hard to tell because of the hooded cape the outlaw wore. Wybert swallowed, watching the strong arms, bracers at the wrists and fur covered boots crossed with laces for ease of movement, there was power in the movement and confidence.

The door to the carriage opened and a lean, cloaked figure peered out.

”But not all of us are Norman,” a female voice said calmly in ancient Greek.

The hooded man stopped as he approached the riders and he sheathed his sword and dropped the cloak hood back, revealing a handsome young face with blue eyes and dark brown hair tinged with strands of lighter brown.

“Xena!” he cried and dashed forward as the woman stepped out of the carriage.

The noblewoman stepped down onto the ground and opened her arms as the young man rushed into her arms, lifting her off her feet as he spun her around, hugging her tightly.

Wybert looked at Aelred, wondering if everyone had lost their minds. The glances between both outlaws and soldiers reflected the same confusion.

“Mother!” the head outlaw cried in Greek, releasing Xena with a grin. “How did you find me? Where’s Mom?”

“One question at a time, Asher,” Xena said with a laugh. “First, we’d best explain somehow to your men and mine and find somewhere to talk.”

”Come, you’re welcome at our camp, of course,” Asher said firmly, turning to his men, switching to their native tongue. “This is my older sister,” he said calmly, with a wide grin. Trying to tell them truth was far beyond a good idea, both outlaw and warrior woman knew. Even if anyone believed they were ancient Greek immortals, they’d be found guilty of witchcraft and either hanged, burned or stoned. Or worse, a combination of any of those punishments. “She is welcome at our camp.”

Asher turned to Xena. “What of your men and what are you called among them?” he asked in Greek.

“Lady Theresa of Dover,” Xena said. “The men are loyal and hand picked. They’ve no love for the Normans and are of Saxon blood. I know you’re called Robin, the Hooded Man.”

Asher nodded as both sides began to relax slightly and Xena walked with him towards the head of the group. “I’m the second Robin,” he explained. “Son of Freyr, Lord of the forests and Saxons, chosen by Herne. The first Robin fell last spring and I fell into this when passing through, already on the run from the authorities.”

“We’ve heard the stories of the wolfs-head outlaws of Sherwood forest,” Xena said with a nod, hating the clothing she was stuck in. The dress made riding a horse impossible and fighting out of the question. How she wished for the old days roaming Greece and surrounding lands with Gabrielle. “Annoying the King’s Men.”

“You mean the Pretender’s men,” Asher said with a smile. “John strangles the Saxons to line his pockets while Richard is off playing Holy War. We do what we can to give some back to the common people and help them through.”

Xena nodded, knowing it fit perfectly in Asher’s character, the son of Xena and Gabrielle having long ago finding his skill as a fighter, often championing the causes of the oppressed.

“It’s growing dangerous,” Xena commented as she walked along with Asher, bandits and soldiers following, obviously confused.

“When isn’t life for us?” Asher countered, still in Greek.

“I know,” Xena said softly. “The Sheriff plans on bringing in scent dogs and Scottish hunters to run you and your men to ground.”

”You’ve come to warn us?” Asher asked.

“Officially, I’m heading to the borders to join with the Clan Kerr, to… encourage them to stay on the side of the English during border conflicts,” Xena said with a shrug. “Unofficially, I’m here to help keep our son alive and help in the fight.”

“That’s my moms,” Asher said with a grin.

“Well, we need to find a way to keep you alive, I don’t want to meet the third Robin of the Hood,” Xena countered. “Gabrielle will be along in a few days.”

“What is she these days?” Asher asked before turning to one of his men and instructing them to run ahead and tell the camp of their approach.

Xena’s sharp eyes noticed three females with short hair dressed as men and carrying weapons and smiled to herself. Things never changed, she thought. In every war and culture there would be a few women that wouldn’t sit behind a spinning wheel and leave the protecting and fighting just to the men. Like Xena and Gabrielle, she thought.

“A Norman noble widow woman,” Xena responded. “Traveling to Wales to a convent.”

“Have you noticed that when there were multiple gods no one fought over whose god was better?” Asher asked softly. “Not very often anyway. Now, we’ve vast crusades to prove one way of worship is better than the other over the same god.”

“I know, religion can make people act irrationally,” Xena agreed. “When we reach your camp I’ll explain to my men.”

”What will you tell them?” Asher asked.

“Just enough truth,” Xena said with a grin. “You’re a close relative and I’m here to help. They can chose to stay with me or not and I’ll offer them a generous payment if they wish to leave. No doubt you have plans on changing your campsite.”

Asher nodded. “Always have two or three in reserve.”

“It’s good to see you,” Xena said softly, again raising eyebrows among both outlaws and her soldiers when she hugged Asher fondly.

”Theresa you say?” Asher asked with a grin. “I’m Aesc. They also call me Robin.”

”Ace…” Xena repeated. “Ash tree, of course.”

“And Gabrielle?” Asher asked.

“Gabrielle again,” Xena said with a smile. “It’s not as exotic or unusual as Xena in these days and ages. Do you plan on keeping at this until you’re killed?”

“I don’t abandon a fight,” Asher said firmly, his face hardening.

”We walked away from Rome,” Xena pointed out. “Even after Virgil’s death. We’d had enough of death and revenge.”

“I’ve lived on the islands for several lifetimes now,” Asher said softly. “I won’t abandon them. We’re raising the ransom for Richard.”

“A Norman who’s never been on English soil on this side of the channel?” Xena countered. Her face softened when Asher’s face darkened. “Peace, son. I understand, truly I do. I just don’t want to lose you and John doesn’t want his brother back, that’s why the ransom hasn’t been raised by the nobles.”

Asher sighed and leaned his head playfully on Xena’s shoulder. “I’ve missed you. How are the Russ?”

“Kings of the trade on the steppes,” Xena said with a smile. “And fairly isolated, they aren’t… expanding like other countries, thankfully. The Vikings send their love and enjoyed when you visited two summers ago.”

“How long have you and Gabby Mum been separated?” Asher asked softly.

“One full year,” Xena said with a frown. “Took time to set up our positions to come to England. It’s harder to move about as women. I miss the old days.”

“I do sometimes,” Asher said. “We’re almost at one camp. Wait until I introduce you to some of the men and women. We’ve entire families that depend on us, some that say for awhile. The ones that have been driven from their homes for one reason or another, usually their land being taken by the Church or some noble.”

“So the idea is to get the ransom together, get to Richard’s captors without being ambushed by John’s men, mercenaries, and bandits in England or on in Europe and hope that the Germans don’t double cross whoever brings the ransom. Sounds easy.”

Asher laughed. “That’s about it, yes. And find the next Robin to take my place in about five years.”

”How long did the last Robin last?” Xena asked, noting that Asher didn’t meet her eyes.

“Two years but he wasn’t immortal with years of training,” Asher pointed out.

“Your mouth to the ears of the gods,” Xena muttered. She hated dealing with gods, any of them. The god of Abraham and Eli or any of the many pantheons throughout the world. Still, it was her and Gabrielle’s son. They had already lost Solan and Kyrek so long ago.

# # #

Xena was impressed with the forest skills of the outlaws in the small grove. She knew it wasn’t just Asher’s training and influence, many of them had learned out of necessity. Some had been driven from their lands by a Church that wanted more and more land, or a feudal lord that decided to graze sheep or cattle instead of letting the family crow crops. Having nowhere to go, the families had turned to the forest.

Xena smiled as she watched Little John teaching two young boys how to fight with a quarterstaff, thinking that Gabrielle would be impressed with the large man’s skills. Also with the colorful names that the outlaws took: John Little became Little John, William Russet became Will Scarlet and Lady Marian became Maid Marian, the spring maiden to the summer lord, the forest king.

What worried Xena was that, in all the old tales, the Summer King always fell to the Winter King, an endless cycle representing the seasons of the earth and life. And in this story, her son Asher was the Summer King and, most likely, the Sheriff was the Winter King.

At first some of the men had appeared uncomfortable when Xena had emerged from a tent dressed in men’s forest clothing, complete with sword but shrugged and went about their business. There were three other women in the group that dressed and fought as men. So far, Xena hadn’t talked with them to learn their stories, she was busy taking in everything around her, including potential weaknesses in both men and locations.

Asher plopped down next to Xena in the shade of a tree, wiping at his brow. “Even if I never grow old, the training still tires me. What do you think, mom?”

“That you’ve done well pulling them together and teaching them some fighting skills the Normans won’t know,” Xena said, watching the ‘village’ bustling about their daily chores and training. “We’ll have to think of a way to turn dogs from a scent if those dogs do come down from the north. The dogs are gentle in nature but are fierce as lions once on a scent.”

Asher nodded. “You’re worried.”

“Yes,” Xena said after a moment. “I know you, Ash. You’ll not let go of this and your doomed to fall. They’ll just keep coming.”

“Difference between hired help and those fighting for their lives and home, makes us stronger,” Asher countered.

“And your fighting skills and teaching, yes, but that won’t stop them forever,” Xena said. “The Normans are in power and they’re not likely to be driven from the land, not with the Crusades distracting everyone throughout Europe.”

“Stupid wars,” Asher muttered. “I know you’re right but I can’t abandon them and now that I’m Robin, I can’t just fade away either.”

“What about your bedmate? He’s capable of leading,” Xena asked, nodding towards a young man practicing with bow and arrows.

Asher blinked, looking at his mother in surprise. “Marian…”

“Turns a blind eye,” Xena said calmly. “They both love you very much. Does he come to your bed or is he too caught up in the concept of ‘sin’?”

Asher sighed, watching the men fighting and practicing. “He’s not but we’re not open about it. I love them, mom. Both.”

“You came along and found the position practically included the Maid,” Xena said with a gentle smile. “Problems arising when you have to fill the role of a growing legend. There’s no way out for you, is there?”

“Not without destroying them and their will to live,” Asher said after a moment. “If I disappear, Will might step up and try to rally them but one of the priests would have to choose him quickly and publicly. When the last Robin fell, it was foretold another would be found and everyone waited. If I ran…”

“They might not accept another as readily and be doomed,” Xena said with a sigh. “How does Marian feel about filling the role of the Maid? Knowing you’ll probably die?”

“You’ll notice a permanent sense of sadness about her,” Asher said softly. “She loved Robin very deeply. She choose to stay in the forest rather than try to return to her noble family or to a convent. I was very surprised when we discovered feelings for each other.”

“Asher, you’re not Saxon, you’re not Norman, you’re not Robin,” Xena said after a moment. “You’re Greek and immortal.”

“I’m more Russ Viking than Greek any longer,” Asher said with a shrug. “I’ve been Scots, now I’m Saxon. At least the language is closer to the Northern tongues. Mother, I am the son of immortals because I was chosen to be a champion to the earth and people connected to the earth. I’m doing that here.”

“I don’t want you falling in that role,” Xena said with a frown.

“As the Vikings would say, the Norns set the thread long ago, it’s a small thing,” Asher said, getting to his feet. “I won’t run and I won’t leave Will and Marian.”

Xena watched the young man walking back to his men and how they responded to his suggestions, to just his presence and knew he was right. There had to be another Robin in place before her son fell, then perhaps they could get him out. Maybe by faking his death, Xena thought.

“Gabrielle, where are you, little one?” Xena whispered. “I miss and need you. Our son needs you.”

# # #

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