Fiction Friday: Robin Hood

This Week’s Theme: Pick a famous fictional character and give them a secret vice—at the very least it should be distasteful if not outright illegal. Now give the character’s rationale in their own words. I'm not like the brutes sent out by that bloody Sheriff. My only goal is to bring him down, and that damned Prince John with him. But I can't do it alone. I need the people behind me. Granted, the Sheriff is doing a jolly good job of turning the people against him without my help, but a little nudge here and there can't hurt, can it? Robbing the rich to feed the poor people around these communities is all well and good, but it's simply not enough. If there's to be change--real change--then we must restore the order and justice that existed while King Richard was here. He may not return from the Crusades, and in that case we have to watch out for ourselves. If he does return, we have to be prepared to receive him and fight for his rule again. How else can we do that without having the people against the prince? Like I said, I'm not like the Sheriff's brutes. They burn houses at random, just for the fun of it. When I burn a peasant's house, I am very careful to make it the right house, at the right time. The residents must be away so it's easy to blame the Sheriff, and to ensure there are no injuries. I suppose there might be other, less destructive ways to incite the people. But there's nothing like a good fire to get people really angry, is there? As a lad, I used to practice archery at night with fire-tipped arrows. Part of the thrill was in the secrecy of it. I had to sneak out of the manor house and down past the stables. One night I missed the target and nearly set the stables ablaze. My father saw from the window, and I had never seen him so angry. Later, when I first went into hiding from the Sheriff and the prince, I took every opportunity I could to learn the best ways to make a fire in all weather, from all materials. That intense study has made it relatively easy, for example, for me to burn farmer Giles' house and blame the Sheriff. After all, it happened while Giles was with me, five miles away, feeding the seven children orphaned by the last attack by the Sheriff's brutes. Like I said, I'm not like them. They burn houses for sheer enjoyment. I burn houses for a much nobler purpose.
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