Robyn Hood: A Girl's Tale

by K. M. Shea

  After putting the horse in the opening we locked him in by taking some sturdy tree branches and crisscrossing them, creating a makeshift gate. It was obvious the horse could easily clear the briar wall or knock down the gate if he wished. However, he seemed content with his new home. As content as his prickly temperament would allow him to be anyway.

  “And that’s that!” Marian happily chirped as she dusted her hands off on her dress. “I’m off, I’ll meet you on the main road in the usual place an hour before dusk.”

  I nodded. “We’ll be there.”

  Marian smiled. “Thank you,” she said as she mounted her grey mare, who had followed us. “I’ll see you then with Lord Brewem,” she said.

  “Make sure he brings a lot of money!” I called after her as she disappeared in the woods.

  Little John smiled. “For being a lady, Maid Marian is quite the character.”

  “She’s frightfully strong,” I said as I stretched my muscles, a little stiff from the day’s activities.

  That night everything went smoothly. Little John did quite well on his first robbery. Within the week minstrels sang tales about Little John and I. They said we were best friends and we would do everything together, which was true. Little John marked the arrival of a steady flow of volunteers to be in my band.

  Because I didn’t have the time to train them all Much took care of showing them how to use weapons, although usually they knew the basics, and Will showed them how to read and track. Then Little John and I would teach them how to rob. So yes, Little John and I were very good friends, even better than Much and Will.

  The minstrels were right for once. In fact, out of all my Merry Man there was only one who knew me better than Little John. And I will introduce you to him now.

  Chapter 5

  Scarlet Stranger

  It was two weeks after Little John arrived and fall was sweeping in through Sherwood. I was eating my porridge by a campfire, alone, when a great forced knocked me over. I sprawled out across the ground before picking myself up to glare at the black horse. We decided to name him Crafty for his cunning personality. I wanted to call him Marian, seeing how their temperaments closely resembled each other, but my men wouldn’t hear of me calling a boy horse by a girl’s name.

  “Crafty,” I growled. The blasted horse got out of his pen at least at least a dozen times, daily. Actually, I think he just came around whenever he was bored. It amused him to knock us into rivers, hot coals, and big trees.

  I muttered under my breath as I dragged him back to his pen, holding on the rope halter Much had made him. “Curses horse, you’re more trouble than you’re worth,” I muttered as I locked him in his pen.

  Crafty snorted and pawed at the ground before getting a drink from his stream.

  I grumbled and stomped back to camp.

  When I arrived back at camp I saw Little John cleaning up my mess. “Crafty?” he asked. I nodded as I took a fresh bowl of porridge. “He’s a wicked one,” Little John chuckled.

  “That he is,” I agreed as Much and Will ran towards us.

  “Robyn!” Much called as some of the Merry Men nodded at me while walking by.

  The merry men had expanded to have seventeen members, not including me. Granted only seven of them (the original members plus Little John) were well trained and well versed, but all of them were promising. Plus all of the members knew I was a girl and amazingly enough still pledged their loyalty to me. They didn’t care if I was a boy or a girl, it mattered more on what I did.

  “You’ll never guess what!” Will sang.

  “Nottingham is having a fair with an archery contest,” I said around a mouthful of my breakfast.

  Will wilted. “How did you know?” he asked.

  I rolled my eyes. “Fools,” I said. “Every year Nottingham has a fair around this time.”

  “Well yeah,” Much admitted. “But it never had an archery contest before!” he exclaimed. “We learned that much off the posters, but how did you know about the archery contest?”

  “The Sheriff is predictable,” I said, wiping my mouth off. “He thinks that by having an archery contest I’ll show up. He’s heard that I claim to be the best archer around.”

  “So are you going to enter?” Will asked.

  “Have you lost your mind? Of course not!” I scoffed.

  “Come on Robyn!” Much whined. “No one would be able to beat you! It would be great!”

  “The disguise is the problem!” I said. “Besides, if I outshoot everyone it would be obvious that I am Robin Hood.”

  “You always have great disguises though!” Will argued. “And all of us Merry Men will be there to back you up! And even if the sheriff tried to arrest you I don’t think the village people would let him.”

  Little John spoke up. “It’s over a week away. She doesn’t have to make up her mind now.”

  And I say bless Little John forever, he usually was the level headed one.

  I smiled in appreciation when he opened his big mouth again. “But that doesn’t mean that you can’t go to Nottingham in the mean time, Robyn. It would be a good chance to see what the defenses look like.”

  I was thunderstruck. My ‘level headed’ Little John was suggesting I go Nottingham.

  “Are you out of your MIND?” I said.

  He and Will Stutely both assured me that they, indeed, were not, and as they did so as they shoved me into a tent to get changed into a proper disguise. I stalked out of the tent five minutes later wearing a leather belt with my sword strapped to my side, a light blue shirt with gray hose, and a tan hat that I could push my hair up into.

  I muttered and grumbled as I slipped on a tan cape and grabbed my quiver and longbow before turning to glare at Little John, Will, and two other merry men. They were kitted up in drab peasant clothes.

  “We are a group of peasant soldiers, who are your escort to the city of Nottingham,” Little John informed me.

  I snorted. “Then who am I? The bonnie queen of England?” I scoffed.

  “You are Lord Dimsdale, the youngest son of an old English lord who lives in the outskirts of London,” Will Stutely told me with a confident nod.

  “I do not look like a noble,” I haughtily informed them.

  Little John tossed me my pair of suede gloves and smugly said. “You’re dressed down to detract bandits. Plus gloves and a sword puts you on a mighty high status!”

  I nailed him down with my eyes before straightening my shirt and stomping off toward the main road. We got there in record time and we slowly ambled down the path, waiting for Nottingham Castle to appear between the trees. The road was still twisting through Sherwood Forest when I caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of my eye.

  “What was that?” I halted, peering in the woods.

  “What was what?” Will Stutely hissed.

  “Let’s check it out,” Little John said before plunging back into the woods, dragging me with, the rest of my Merry Men followed.

  After crawling through the trees for several moments we spotted a brilliant scarlet clothed blob.

  It was a young man, probably Little John’s age. He was quite comely, and his scarlet clothes were of a high quality.

  “It’s a man,” Little John loudly hissed.

  “I can see that,” I said.

  “Looks like a city fop. What kind of cad wears scarlet in a forest?” Will Stutely hissed.

  “Nothing to see, let’s go,” I said, starting back for the road.

  “Wait a second,” Little John said, yanking me back. “He’s hunting,” he said as the scarlet clad stranger notched an arrow in his bow and stared down a barely visible deer that was moving through the woods.

  “So let him hunt. Let’s go,” I hissed.

  “No way. This is our forest,” Will Stutely said before stepping out of the trees. “Hello, stranger,” Will called with a broad smile.

  The deer startled ran off and the scarlet boy cursed and swung around to face us. He was as aristocra
tic as Marian would be if she were quiet. He had icy blue eyes and fine, black hair. He was built like a cat, lean and long, and a silver sword was strapped to his side. His longbow was bigger than mine and had elegant carvings etched into the surface.

  He had to be a noble.

  “Hello,” the noble/stranger greeted, sounding quite murderous.

  “What are you doing here this fine day?” Will Stutely asked as Little John dragged me after Will.

  “Hunting, as you can see,” the noble said, raising an eyebrow.

  “Let me go,” I hissed at Little John as we halted behind Will Stutely. Little John’s hand was an iron shackle around my elbow.

  “We seem to have lost our way off the main road to Nottingham Castle. Silly, isn’t it,” Will Stutely continued as the noble watched my two other Merry Men trail after me. “We are guards, serving my master who desires to stay in Nottingham,” Will said, gesturing at me.

  “You’re bandits, aren’t you?” the noble accused.

  “We are not,” Will Stutely huffed.

  “Yes, you are.”

  “We are not!”

  “It’s quite obvious you are!”

  “Are not!” Will Stutely shouted. (A part of me had to wonder why he was getting so worked up. We were outlaws.)

  The scarlet clad stranger shook his head, clearly disbelieving.

  Will Stutely huffed and looked the stranger up and down before grinning. “I see you have a sword!” he remarked.

  What on earth was he getting at?

  “So does my master! Why don’t you two have a practice duel to settle the matter,” Will grinned like a satisfied cat.

  The words were no sooner out of his mouth than I had my hands around his neck, hissing, “You really are out of your mind!” I started shaking him. “Are you trying to get me killed?”

  “Fine,” the scarlet stranger replied, narrowing his icy blue eyes.

  “No!” I yelled as I clawed my way away from my men, who over powered me and pushed me back towards the stranger.

  I stomped my foot once as I glared at my band. My eyes warned them that Crafty would soon be tasting their flesh. “I apologize for my man’s rudeness,” I slickly said as I turned around to face the aristocrat. “Unfortunately I am not very skilled in the swordsmanship, nor is this even my sword. Please forgive my ignorant, and soon to be traumatized, servant,” I coolly said, backing away towards the trees.

  The stranger relaxed some, concluding that I was quite obviously a spineless coward. “No harm done, but all the same let us practice,” he decided.

  I continued to back up, but Little John pushed me right back at the scarlet man.

  “I guess I don’t have a choice,” I muttered, reluctantly drawing my sword.

  The man ran at me and I released a frightened squeak before jumping out of the way as he brandished his sword at me. I parried his blows relatively well. He was very skilled. His defense was top notch and his blows were so quick I never had the chance, or the guts, to strike out with my own sword.

  After ten minutes he jumped back, smiling. “You’re pretty good,” he complimented. (By the KING, he wasn’t winded at all!)

  I was laboriously breathing, propping myself up with the sword as I made great gasping noises and tried to figure out what this was accomplishing.

  “Who taught you?” he asked before springing at me again.

  “No one,” I heaved, barely parrying the blow in time. “I was self taught by practicing with a friend.” If he was trying to win by making me run out of air, energy, or both, he was doing a fine job.

  He jumped back again. “Impressive. I was taught by an old knight who served my father.”

  Apparently fighting him made him friendlier.

  “Who are you?” I asked as he gave me a breather.

  “William Gamwell. Most people call me Will,” he said as he swung his sword in a wide arc before raining more blows upon me. “And you are?” he asked as I blocked a downward thrust.

  “Rob Dimsdale,” I managed cheep as my hand began to shake under the great amount of force he was pressing down with on his sword. Make no mistake, I may be strong, but I’m still a girl.

  “What business do you have in Nottingham, Rob?” Will Gamwell asked.

  “My annoying and bossy men wanted to see the fair. It wasn’t until we passed through a village some distance back that we discovered it is not until next week,” I puffed as I jumped backward, out of harm’s reach.

  Will Gamwell laughed before running after me. “I see.”

  “Good for you. What are you doing here?” I questioned, jumping behind a bush.

  “Business,” he grimly said as he sliced the bush in half.

  “What?” I asked, lowering my sword for the moment. Observing my stance, he lowered his too.

  “My father, the Earl of Maxfield, died a few months ago. A near by lord decided he wanted our family lands and hired my father’s steward to try and kill me. Instead I killed him in self defense and was outlawed. My family was stripped of our title and holding. I’ve come to talk to some friends here in Nottingham about the situation,” he vehemently said, swiping at me.

  I yelped started running in a wide circle. “I am very sorry to hear that,” I said, trying to get over the fact I was fighting a killer. (Although… he was fighting an outlaw.) “Can I give up now?” I begged my men as William Gamwell chased after me.

  “No!” Little John cheerfully shouted. “You have to defend the honor of Dimdale.”

  My man Will elbowed him. “He’s a DimSdale you numbskull! You’re the one who came up with the name yourself!” he hissed.

  Will Gamwell looked triumphant. “So you really are bandits,” he dangerously smirked.

  I turned around to nay say him and, as you know, I have the worst luck in the world. So naturally as I turned Will Gamwell tripped on a rock and fell. Landing on top of me. We both tumbled to the ground, Gamwell squishing me flat.

  Internally I knew there was no way he hadn’t felt anything… suspicious.

  My Merry Men were silent before irrupting in panic. “OH NO!” Will yelled, running around as he wrung his hands. “What are we going to SAY? Much is going to KILL ME!”

  Will Gamwell hopped up as fast as he could. He carefully studied me as I peeled myself up off the ground.

  “I know!” Little John shouted. “Kind sir, she is but a, um, nun who we picked up off the side of the road and vowed to protect!” he eagerly told Will Gamwell as my other men continued to babble in the background.

  “Little John, shut up! Stutely, calm down!” I snapped as I stood up, smacking my longbow over my men’s heads. “Everyone, quiet!” I ordered.

  My Merry Men lined up, their attention on me.

  I sighed and turned around to face a smirking William Gamwell. “So you are Robin Hood?” he asked.

  I frowned. “How did you come to that conclusion?”

  “You only screamed my name,” Little John quipped before I ruthlessly whacked him over the head.

  Gamwell grinned. “One hopping mad girl bossing around a huge man named Little John, who is Robin Hood’s best friend. One of her men is yelling about how Much, Robin Hood’s first Merry Man, is going to hurt him. There’s only two possibilities. You are either Maid Marian, or Robin Hood himself. Or… herself I guess.”

  I darkly studied him, waiting for his response.

  Gamwell’s smirk turned into a gentle curve of the lips. “I would like to join you Robin Hood,” he said. “Prince John has ruled far too long in his brother’s stead. He has become power hungry, and the poor are paying heavily for it as well as the nobles who go against him. He favors those who support him. That was how the neighboring lord got away with the attempt on my life,” he grimly said.

  I sighed. “My name is Robyn, I’m a girl and the best archer in Nottingham. I have a band of seventeen men. We do our best to help out the poor, but never have we gone directly against Prince John, who has not yet ventured to Nottingham. We live in te
nts, and our life is not nearly as glorious as the rumors make it out to be. My men have big mouths and often get me into trouble, and there is never a dull moment,” I told him.

  “My lady-,” he really was a noble! “I will gladly follow you where ever you go,” William Gamwell insisted as he knelt at my feet.

  I considered him for a moment before touching him on the shoulders and head with my sword. I gazed at him for a moment, studying his red clothes. “I christen you Will Scarlet, the gallant noble,” I said. “Welcome to our family,” I dryly added as my men yipped and howled, a customary habit for them whenever someone joined.

  We returned to Sherwood to show Scarlet the ropes, to our surprise/delight he didn’t need any teaching. He was well versed in all manners of fighting, tracking, and writing, as a matter of fact he, Little John, and I became a close trio. We rarely went anywhere without each other. This being so, he and Little John of course accompanied me to the fair.

  “Bye-bye Much!” I said, waving to my friend over my shoulder as he all but cried.

  Much was being forced to stay behind with the five greenest recruits who weren’t skilled enough to venture into Nottingham yet. Someone had to supervise them and make sure they didn’t get themselves killed, so Much was nominated—even though he bitterly complained about it. (“I have seniority rights! Why do I have to stay behind?”)

  As we walked Little John and Scarlet took up their normal posts on either side of me, talking quietly about the fair as my ten other band members rejoiced, boisterously yelled, and sang songs. They were very excited about the tournament.

  “Robyn,” Scarlet quietly said.

  I glanced up at him, meeting his eyes.

  “Little John and I would like to know what you’re planning to do to make a safe passage into Nottingham.”

  I blinked, surprised they knew I already had a plan. “Alright,” I agreed.

  “Please have Little John or myself stay with you. It will make us feel better,” Will Scarlet added.

  The concept amused me. Think about it, the two greatest Merry Men would feel more assured if they acted like my nursemaids. I shook my head before shouting, “Men!”