by M. C. Frank
A little chill ran through her spine at his last words.
Whether it was from hearing her own story from his lips, or from his assurance of his safety in her hands, she wasn’t sure. But now was not the time for such deep reflections. She would think everything over in the solitude of her room.
Robin was already standing and extending a hand to her. She took it and in a moment she was by his side. In a graceful sweep, she was in his arms dancing to the joyous music of Alan’s lute around the huge fire. Every other thought fled from her mind: his touch, his look, his voice - they were her whole world. And it was enough.
She left after midnight, so loath was she to tear herself away from the merry men’s company. Apart from the thrill that their handsome leader caused in her heart, their laughter and cheer never failed to lift her spirits and transport her into a world where justice and goodness triumphed. She so longed to be able to stay there for a whole day, but she knew she must be very careful, if not for her own sake, then for his.
This time Robin came with her almost to the gates of the castle. She tried to argue against it, but there was no changing his mind. Rosa knew it was hardly necessary, not to mention highly dangerous, for him to come so close, but what she didn’t know were his real motives for insisting.
For the truth was, although she did not know it yet, that he couldn’t bear the thought of being parted from her.
Robin rode ever so slowly, keeping close beside her, until they were almost at the gates and he could see the guards pacing in the distance. Strangely, he didn’t care if someone saw him. He reached to take her hand in his, but abruptly he withdrew his arm, hoping she hadn’t seen him. He wasn’t at all sure he could stop himself merely at hand-kissing.
And she so pure, so innocent.
Before, when they were dancing, it was all he could do not to grab her and kiss her until he couldn’t breathe any more. As their skin touched and their eyes met between the jolly steps of the dance, he had to restrain himself more and more or he’d show his emotion. He’d die before he ever laid a hand on her, he had vowed it to himself over and over since the first day he had pulled her soft, trembling body from the water. So he just stood and smiled at her, unable to speak his heart, but somehow knowing that what his eyes were saying was enough. For the moment, at least.
…
Rosa went straight to the stables and entrusted her grey horse, Thunderbolt, to the hands of one of the stable hands, Joseph Hall, who also happened to be a trusted friend of hers. He had stayed awake, waiting for her to come back from her adventures in the forest. He took the reins from her fingers with a smile and a wink.
“You were late, mistress”, the young boy said playfully.
“I know, Jo. I am so sorry to have kept you waiting. But you know, you should have gone to bed. I can very well care for Thunderbolt myself.”
“I knew, my lady, but I had business of me own.”
From his sly and delighted smile, Rosa surmised that this ‘business’ of his must have referred to the young maid Meg, with whom he had been enjoying a secret dalliance these last few weeks. Amused, Rosa raised her eyebrows.
“Good for you, Jo. Just be sure to make an honest woman of her soon.”
“My lady, you insult me,” quoth the wounded youth.
“Forgive me, Jo. The good Lord knows, if there is one person I know I can trust around here, it is you.” The boy smiled proudly at these words. He was the one who had helped her get away during the nights and had kept her escapades secret. Even when she went forth dressed as a boy, she had hardly heard a word of wonder or reproach coming out of his mouth. Yes, he was trustworthy. But not one of the loyal servants who were in on her many secrets, not even young Jo, did she trust with the secret of whom she was visiting at dusk or for what purpose. Too much was at stake.
“Now, that ain’t true and you know it mistress,” Jo was saying now. “There is not one of us who are in the service of your father, from the dungeons to the kitchens who wouldn’t lay down their lives for you,” he added softly.
Rosa’s eyes misted.
“I don’t know that I would be worth it, Jo,” she said, running her hand up and down Thunderbolt’s glistening back.
“Well, I do. For ye know well, m’ lady, we wouldn’t be alive today, most of us, if it hadn’t been for you. Your father’s wrath along with the last, harsh winter would have seen us dead if it hadn’t been you to take care of us. We never forgets that, mistress. Now hurry and go to your father, ‘cause last I heard he was up and looking for you.”
“At this hour what can he want?”
Rosa hurried on the stairs, her mind reeling with questions. Her father couldn’t have found out about her midnight adventure, for the servants must have fabricated some lie to protect her, she was sure. So then, what could he be wanting with her in the middle of the night?
She quickened her step in the hallway, all rosy-colored thoughts of the dream that had followed her from the forest forgotten -for the moment.
It turned out the Sheriff was waiting up for her with good reason.
Her trusted maid Helena had given him some fib about her having retired to bed early, but he insisted on having her awoken and come to him, for he had news that could not wait. Now that sounded like something one should fear, Helena thought to herself as she hurried her mistress to his presence, wondering at Rosa’s calm exterior.
“Happy news, daughter,” the Sheriff exclaimed as soon as he saw her. “Come, sit with me. For once, I have no quarrel with you. Indeed, you have greatly pleased me, my dear.”
Rosa found these words more dangerous that all the threats her father had directed to her through the years and she struggled to maintain her calm as she took a seat opposite the Sheriff’s opulent form, in front of the large open fire. In the background, the servants’ clanging and hurrying about was conspicuously absent, for the hour was passed and they were all abed. The confined silence was deafening, after the music of the forest.
The Sheriff paused dramatically for effect, and then started speaking triumphantly.
“A few days hence I received an offer for your hand. You are to be congratulated, daughter, for your bridegroom is a most powerful man, whose wealth alone will be a plentiful addition to mine. I must tell you, I never thought I would be rid of you, let alone so fortuitously. For all your looks, you have a disturbing tendency to stray from virtue, just like your disgraceful mother… Still, the man wants you, I suppose, or else he wouldn’t have come all the way to ask me for your hand, so that’s the last complaint you will hear form me. Come now, we must plan the nuptials as soon as possible-”
“Father.” Rosa was surprised to hear her voice so collected, for all the effort she had put in steadying it.
“For heaven’s sake, stop staring at me with those wide eyes, what is it girl?” he ejaculated impatiently.
“His name, father. What is his name?”
“Oh. Why, it’s young Hugh DeHavenger, of course.”
Her father went on to weave that worthy man’s praise, but Rosa hardly heard him. It seemed like a dark veil had separated her from the world at the sound of her aspiring husband’s name.
Hugh DeHavenger was neither old, nor repulsive or mean-spirited. In fact, he was quite handsome, or so the maidens of the entire county considered him. She had oft met him, indeed she knew him since childhood, for he frequented her father’s company, conducting ‘business of the king’s’ with him, as they claimed. In truth, the business they conducted was the exact opposite, as her father -along with other nobles and men of power and means- had set about the dethronement of the long-absent king. That alone was sufficient to earn Rosa’s deep and utter contempt.
However, he was a most powerful lord with a will of iron. If she had somehow caught his eye, and she could hardly understand how that had happened, that meant that they would be married within the week.
And yet there was something that disturbed her worse than the prospect of being tied for life
to an unscrupulous man who was disloyal to her beloved king.
She would lose her freedom.
As she dragged her steps to her bed, the thought fleetingly crossed her mind that she could ask for Robin’s assistance. People always sought him out for this purpose, people that he hadn’t met before in his life. Surely she had more claim to his services. But no. Her ambition was to serve him, to aid him, not to burden him with more troubles.
And then she remembered. As far as Robin Hood knew, she was Rose, the stable-keeper’s simple daughter, standing in no danger of being married off to the highest bidder for politics.
The dawn brought neither a clearer understanding of the past nor a brighter hope for the future, but it brought a renewed desire for the forest and that secret, magical world beginning -for her- as the sun begun its glorious descent. How she longed to spend a whole morning there, a whole day! In view of her on-coming loss of freedom, her resolve strengthened. She’d have this one dream come true before she was irrevocably shackled to pain and disappointment.
Little did she know that that resolve was not all the morning brought; it also brought Sir Hugh, the resplendent bridegroom, himself.
…
He had not come alone. A rather large company of courtiers and gentlefolk accompanied him, perhaps in an aspiration to testify to his grandeur and significance.
Of course, Rosa well knew that a simple marriage proposal, even to the daughter of such an illustrious personage as the Sheriff of Nottingham himself, did not warrant such pompous proceedings. It was rather the man’s traitorous plans that depended partly upon her father’s cooperation. That Rosa herself was to be merely a pawn in their machinations was for the present the smallest of her problems.
She was informed, directly after his arrival, that her bridegroom awaited her in the garden, so she went forth to him, no hesitation or misgiving evident in her carefully schooled features.
Her surprise was great at finding him seated on a wooden bench among the damask roses, his golden head bent above his knees, appearing to be deeply in thought and engaged in an inner struggle. This was strange. It was not the expected posture of a man certain of his success, as her father’s words the previous night had given her to understand.
As soon as he saw her he got to his feet, a bit awkwardly, and bowed deeply, quite deeply indeed given his exceptional height and stature. He didn’t say a word, but his blue eyes kept watching her closely, with a depth of intensity in them that mystified her. She sat next to his vacant seat, and he immediately turned to face her, instead of sitting himself.
Rosa had been expecting him to play the devoted lover, but she was further surprised to discover that no smile lightened his charming face and no rose adorned his black tunic. His long, slender fingers seemed to be trembling and there was a deep furrow on his noble brow. His hair was blond and gleamed in the sunlight, but the rest of his appearance gave off a brooding darkness, for he was dressed all in black, a strange choice of garments for one as young as he -he’d not yet celebrated his thirty-fifth year.
“Sir Hugh.” Rosa addressed him, as he didn’t seem to be inclined to break the silence.
That seemed to cure him momentarily of his inability to speak and he said, in a deep, coarse voice, much unlike his usual confident and commanding accents:
“I trust I find you well this morning, fair lady?”
“Indeed you do. And was your journey pleasant?”
“Not extremely unpleasant, thank you.” After that he again seemed at a loss for words and fell to regarding her passionately. It was up to Rosa to speak once more. Truly, she was starting to get impatient with the man. The matter should have been done with and over by now.
“From what my father tells me, I understand-” at that she was interrupted.
“My- my lady Rosa”, he began, searching for the proper words, at war with something within him. “I am- I think I have some idea of what you must think of my proposition. What you do not know is this: I have no intention whatsoever of… of having you comply to my wishes if you are not of your own free will completely content to do so.”
He stopped, gazing away in the distance, something akin to desperation in his look. Now it was she who was speechless.
Every now and then, in a few yards ahead of them, ladies from his retinue appeared to be strolling in the clear path between the rhododendrons, paying little heed to them, on the excuse that they needed to stretch their limbs after the long journey.
Of course, every one who was residing in the castle, from the servants to his own party, knew what Sir Hugh’s visit was all about. Now it was a couple of courtesans, laughing lightly and pointing out rare species of flowers on the way, and trailing behind them a middle-aged lady, covered in silks and lace, her maid-servant trudging along, mainly in order to listen to her complaints about the weather and the poor hospitality of the Sheriff’s abode.
And then, even as she was lost among the many questions her suitor’s unconventional speech has raised in her mind, Rosa couldn’t help but notice something -or rather someone that stood out.
There, in front of her, a young gentlewoman had halted in her stroll and was staring directly at Rosa. What was so strange was not so much her indiscreet gaze -which she made no effort to conceal behind one of the thick rose bushes that surrounded her- as her openly hostile expression. Indeed, she looked almost murderous, rage and contempt mingling in her white face and Rosa absently wondered what the girl was looking at with such venom in her glance: she seemed to be looking straight at her, or perhaps at something past her. Annoyed a little, Rosa turned sideways, to face Sir Hugh’s mesmerizing eyes.
“I did not expect that, Sir Hugh,” she said at last.
If she was less surprised, she might have taken more note of the ominous look the woman was sending her, might have realized that it was pure, green, feminine envy against her rival. But she still was not considering herself a candidate for Sir Hugh’s hand, and so she entirely failed to see the point of the woman’s enmity.
If she had; if she had taken steps to prevent disaster from striking, she might have changed the course of more lives than one -her own included.
As it was, however, she looked up to Sir Hugh’s frowning eyes questioningly.
“I had a terror that you might have been thinking of me as an ogre…” Sir Hugh smiled wistfully.
“No, indeed not an ogre!” Her tender heart went out to him in pity, and she suddenly felt the need to comfort him. “It is only… what you said; it is hardly conventional to be asked…”
“… your opinion? Is that what you meant?”
“I am afraid so, sir.”
He was silent, appearing to be looking away again.
“I cannot imagine,” she said, “anyone aspiring to a lady’s hand giving her such a choice… Why- ?”
“My dear lady, don’t you know? Is it possible that I may have walked the grounds of your home for all these years without it being obvious to you?” he was smiling again, that stingy show of light in his face, but Rosa was more perplexed than ever.
“What being obvious, my lord?”
Suddenly his face became serious. He dropped to one knee before her, and his somber eyes met hers, pleadingly, caressingly.
“That I am in love with you,” he said. “In desperate, passionate love… I adore you.”
…
A grand feast had been prepared for the honored guests of the Sheriff.
There was a most impressive spread of delicacies, exquisitely prepared for the most demanding of appetites. Of course, the highlight of the banquet would be one of the Sheriff’s own famous deer which had that very day been hunted among the mighty oaks of the Sherwood Forest. The Sheriff was very proud of his game and became even more gratified by the amazed exclamations of his guests as they tasted the tempting dishes of salted meat.
Rosa had no appetite either way, and the sight of the large silver platters bearing the meat that she had tasted once beside a roaring fire
in the company of the best of men, did little to rouse her from her depressing thoughts. That glorious time seemed now to have belonged in a distant dream, forever out of her reach.
Sir Hugh was sitting at her right, and appeared to have no inclination to repeat his surprising declarations, at least for the present. He was silent, and, Rosa noticed, he hardly ate either. Her father, seated at the middle of the arrangement of the long wooden tables, seemed blissfully unaware of any of this, and kept filling his belly with large mouthfuls of meat. Merry voices surrounded the Dining Hall all around her, a few of them distinctly complimenting their host on the excellent feast.
Rosa also heard someone congratulate her father on the mighty control of the outlaws the used to roam the forest and steal his game.
She smiled to herself. So that was the story he was spreading about! She smoothed the skirt of the emerald gown she had donned for the occasion -Helena had insisted that it brought out the color of her eyes, which seemed to be an important asset, especially tonight- to hide her expression.
For a mad, wild moment she wished Robin Hood would suddenly appear before the eating company, if only to defy her father’s boasts. How incredibly more handsome and noble he would look in his peasant’s dress than any of the silk-and satin-attired gentlefolk! And then, he would sweep her into his powerful arms and carry her away from this world which seemed so foreign to her, even though she had been -almost- born into it and which now threatened to swallow her forever. Again, like a sharp pain, a sudden thought awoke her from her daydreams. For if Robin were indeed to appear in this very room, and see her, he would turn his face away from her in disgust and disappointment.
“Why so downcast, fair lady?” Sir Hugh’s solicitous voice made her conceal her frown quickly. “Ah, I see you immediately put up your mask,” he went on. Rosa was surprised at his perceptiveness. He must have been watching her closely for the past moments.