Robyn Hood: A Girl's Tale

by K. M. Shea

  I had it notched and tight, aiming into the trees, before Hob responded. “ROBYN’S HURT!” he said, staring at my arm that had gotten injured the previous day.

  I paled as I removed the arrow from the bow, loosened the string, and slipped the arrow back into my quiver. Now he’d done it.

  Instantly Much, Will Stutely, and about twenty of the Merry Men were at my side, practically swooning.

  “Everyone quiet down!” Much yelled. God Bless Much. “Or we won’t be able to hear if she’s is in any pain!”

  On second thought, curse him.

  I was all but carried into the injury tent where most of my men huddled by the door, pacing.

  Much, Will Stutely, Hob, and Tom crowded around me. Apparently it would take all four of them to clean off the dried blood on my small gash. They accidentally reopened it, and blood poured out. Really, it looked a lot worse than it was. However, the four cads assumed the worst, and Will Stutely almost fainted.

  Hob was the only half useful one. He carefully bandaged my arm while the rest of the men assigned blame.

  The second Hob was finished I pushed them all away. “Get off me!” I ordered, storming out of the tent only to be mobbed by my waiting men. They hugged me and passed me around like I was a puppy.

  Marian stormed into camp at that moment. She had a long, hearty laugh as she watched my men smother me in affection.

  However, she nearly fell off her sweaty, gray mare when Much told her to stop laughing because I had been “Injured in battle.”

  The Merry Men scattered after a few fierce roars were issued from Marian. She scuttled to my side and gently hugged me while patting my back.

  The muscles on my face spasmed before I shouted. “I’M NOT A DOG! I DON’T NEED TO BE REASSURED!”

  “But you are a dog, Robyn. You’re like those cute little lapdogs the Queen keeps in her room,” Marian told me with wide blue eyes.

  I resisted the urge to growl as my Merry Men nodded in agreement. I scowled at Hob, the loudmouth who started all of this, as Marian tugged on my sleeve and pulled me into the sick tent.

  “I’m glad you aren’t in a lot of pain,” Marian smiled as she released me.

  “I’m glad you came. Will Scarlet was shot by a crossbow and he hasn’t woken up since,” I said as I pointed to his corner of the tent.

  Little John nodded to Marian and I, he had been sitting close to Scarlet but he stood and limped around the tent, trying to sooth his aching muscles.

  “What’s wrong with you, Little John?” Marian asked as she unabashedly picked up her skirts to walk around the fire, not that it mattered since I colored violently enough for her.

  “Some lady you are,” I grunted, Marian responded by elbowing me in the gut.

  As I bent over, gasping and coughing, Little John smiled. “I’m fine Maid Marian, just a little stiff. I only pulled a few muscles.”

  Marian nodded and sniffed, accepting the explanation as she turned her attention to Will Scarlet.

  She touched his forehead and undid his bandages, rewrapping his wound in clean ones, before she frowned and studied his waxy complexion. “He’s got a fever, but his injury seems to be fine. It doesn’t smell infected anyway,” she logically pointed out. “I would keep bathing him in cool water. He really needs to sleep, but if he doesn’t wake up by tomorrow morning I would try to forcefully wake him. He’ll surely need to drink and eat by then.”

  “Thanks Marian,” I said, immensely relieved. Curing aliments was one of the few lady-like tasks Marian had attacked with vigor. Normally ladies only knew how to cure common things, but Marian’s mother had allowed Marian to further research medical subjects when it became painfully obvious that she would refuse to do other feminine activities like sewing. (Never mind that her stitches were always perfect.)

  “No problem!” the shorter girl chirped before grinning slyly at me. “Mother is still upset that I was cheering on the outlaw, Robin Hood at the fair.”

  “Still?” I asked, running my hand through my hair. “That was months ago! Why does she still have her underclothes in a wad about it?”

  Marian shrugged. “I’m not sure. She seems to think I’m madly in love with you. I wasn’t about to correct her and tell her that you were really a girl,” Marian explained. “But I do need to go. She gets suspicious if my afternoon rides take too long.”

  “Try to keep out of trouble,” I said as we exited the tent.

  Marian sniffed. “Don’t I always?”

  “Hardly,” I replied, smiling at my friend as she dragged herself up onto her poor mare.

  “Good luck Robyn, dear! Just a few more months until spring. Remember to call for me if Will Scarlet doesn’t improve,” she said before heeling her mare out of the camp.

  As she left some of my men started wondering when that poor mare would keel over dead due to stress brought on by Marian.

  I smiled fondly until I noticed that many of the Merry Men were giving me wolfish smiles. Making up my mind, I tore back to the sick tent, barely making in the opening before they pounced. I swiftly kicked out Hob, Will Stutely, and Much, (Little John left on his own accord) and sighed with relief as I tied the tent flaps shut.

  I walked over to the warm coals where I lowered myself to the ground and wearily sighed.

  I lounged around the tent for the better part of two hours when I heard Will Scarlet stir. I quickly untied the tent flaps and stuck my head outside long enough to shout. “Much, Hob, come here. Scarlet is waking up.”

  I hurried over to Scarlet’s cot as he groaned and slowly opened his eyes.

  “Robyn?” he asked in a grating voice.

  “Yes,” I smiled as Much, Hob, Little John, and Will Stutely all burst into the tent. I raised my eyes at the extra men but shrugged as they crowded around him.

  “What happened?” he asked, trying to sit up.

  “Don’t move; you might reopen your side,” Much bossily instructed.

  “That does remind me though,” I said as I thoughtfully tapped my chin. “I never did hear the whole story.”

  Little John spoke up first. “I was with a group of five men, we were hunting as instructed. We had just bagged a few rabbits when suddenly about twenty horsemen ran into us. We scattered, I ran back to the clearing where you were, Robyn, to warn you. Another man went on to tell Much, Will, and anyone else that was at the camp.”

  “Yes, that was when Scarlet knocked me into the river,” I said.

  Will Scarlet struggled to follow the conversation. He stared at me with hazy, blue eyes. The fever was probably still clouding his senses.

  “The last thing I saw was Scarlet getting shot,” I added.

  Will Stutely nodded. “We ran to back everyone up as fast as we could, but there was some confusion about what happened to you. I thought the foresters already had you. No one really knew what had happened as we tried to establish your location. The foresters gained the upper hand in that time. They disarmed us faster then you can say “Much is fat” and next thing we know, we’re being marched out to Nottingham.”

  Much frowned at Will before speaking, “They knew they hadn’t caught you, so they were going to use us as bait, I think. I’m not sure why they didn’t kill us though. They would need only one man really to lure you out.”

  “I was one of the men that managed to escape. We heard you calling Robyn, but we didn’t know if you had been captured too so we tried to follow the sound. We were on your heels almost the entire way, until that devil of a horse took off like an arrow. Then we lost you for a while. We ran as fast as we could though, since we were easily able to recognize Crafty. You know the rest,” Much shrugged.

  “W-what happened to you, Robyn?” Will Scarlet asked as he kept his gaze fastened on our faces, ignoring Much, who inspected Scarlet’s wound.

  I shrugged. “The current was swift and the water was cold. After a couple of minutes I froze and sank to the bottom,” I explained.

  Everyone stared at me with identical stares of
horror.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Did you drown? Then what in bonnie England are you doing here? Did you die, are you a ghost?” Will Stutely exploded.

  “No. Crafty was on the bank and waded in to get me. He kicked me a few times before I responded enough to get above water again. He swam out of the river, taking me with,” I said with a lopsided smile as I rubbed my bruised sides while remembering his solid hooves.

  “Hallelujah!” Much yelled. “At last that horse was good for something!”

  My other men fiercely nodded.

  Much then chased Hob, Little John, Will Stutely, and myself out of the tent. He claimed we were upsetting the patient.

  I swaggered around the camp for an hour before stopping to help make dinner. The sun set and darkness filtered into the woods as my men and I crowded around fires. The men on guard duty switched, and most of my band went to bed.

  I stood and stretched, about to enter my own hut when one of the scouts materialized at my side.

  “Robyn, erm, milady. Someone on horseback approaches. We cannot confirm their identity. Your orders?” It was Ryan, my Merry Man from the archery contest.

  I frowned. “It’s far too late for Marian to be riding here, her parents would never let her out of the castle after nightfall. But no forester would be stupid enough to search for us alone. Hold your fire and let them come here. They may pass right by us,” I decided.

  Ryan nodded and disappeared, taking up his post once again. I and huddled closer to the fire, waiting for news of the rider.

  I was not disappointed when a frantic Maid Marian burst into the camp for the second time that day. A black cloak hid most of her body and her blond hair, and instead of her usual grey mare she rode a blood bay gelding. “Robyn, something awful has happened,” she said as she jumped off the horse, trembling and shivering. Tears were leaking out of the corners of her blue eyes. She was upset, and Marian was not easy to ruffle.

  “What is it?”

  Marian reached out to clasp my forearm, tugging on me as though I could steady her. “King Richard has been captured, Robyn. He’s been taken as a hostage!” Marian started crying, sobs wracking her frame as she sunk to the ground.

  My mouth went dry and repeated Marian’s words in my mind. “How?” I managed to spit out, even though I felt as though I were talking through a mouth full of wood shavings.

  All of my men that were near us fell quiet, listening to Marian’s explanation.

  “He was on his way home from the crusades,” Marian cried. “To protect himself he took on the guise of a kitchen servant, but he was discovered,” she hiccupped. “The Duke Leopold of Austria found him and handed him over to Henry IV of the Holy Roman Empire! He’s being ransomed for 150,000 marks!”

  Marian started sobbing again, beating her little fists on the forest floor.

  I was as still as a stone statue. “King Richard?” I questioned in a dazed voice. Terror flooded my being as bile rose in my throat.

  “How on Earth will we get him back?” Will Stutely said, swallowing nervously. “Prince John would never pay for his brother’s release!”

  I narrowed my eyes and used several words, erm, sentences that would be extremely inappropriate for this book.

  My men stared at me with wide eyes as Marian quickly dismissed it—who do you think I learned it from anyway?

  “What’s wrong?” Will Scarlet, who was leaning against Much, asked as they exited the sick tent.

  I collapsed on the ground in front of a fire, staring into the flames. As if in a dream I heard everyone’s voices filter out as Marian explained to the new arrivals what had happened to our beloved king. The air was filled with curses, prayers, and a little weeping.

  I closed my eyes and massaged my forehead with my hands, feeling cold and numb.

  “My father said Prince John announced he’s going to increase taxes so he can raise the money to bail out King Richard. Although we all know it’s a lie. He’ll keep all of the money he gets,” Marian bitterly said.

  I opened my eyes and turned around from my sitting position. “Then we’ll just have to get him out ourselves, won’t we?” I decided.

  The Merry Men stared at me. Later much told me I looked like a demon with black fire burning in my eyes.

  “Hob, gather all the men who aren’t injured and go into the village, tonight. Explain to them what has happened and see what they’re willing to do to help us. Tell them that we will continue to give them as much as we can spare, but now the majority of the gold will be used to free King Richard,” I announced as I stood up, my cape curling around me as I strode though the camp.

  “Much, how’s your head?” I asked.

  “Fine,” Much replied, keeping up with my brisk pace.

  “Good. Pick out a group of well rounded men. At dawn take them into Nottingham castle. Find out whatever you can about what’s going on,” I said before spinning around on my heels.

  “Ryan, I want you to travel with a small band of men up and down the road to Nottingham. Find out how many people travel on it. We’ve taken most of the winter off, but I intend to return to robbing with a vengeance,” I growled.

  “Men, if you find anyone who is willing to join our cause bring them here. We need every body we can get,” I said before I jumped onto the lower branch of a tree. All forty men had assembled before me. Even the guards on guard duty had abandoned their posts.

  “Tonight men, a horrible tragedy has struck England. King Richard has been ransomed, and it is unlikely that Prince John will do anything about it.”

  The camp was eerily still, I could only see big shadows while the small fires and the hand held torches flickered in the cold wind. “But, we will do something about it! We, the rouges of Sherwood Forest, will take the money we steal from the rich, and use it to deliver our King!” I shouted as my men cheered loudly. “They may have taken our King, we may be ruled by a tyrant, we have already lost everything, and we might be declared thieves, but never will we lose our hope or loyalty!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. I was drowned out by the shouts of my men.

  I paused, waiting for them to settle down before speaking again. “Tonight men, we will band together for a reason that is far bigger than the temporary, unfair taxation of our villages. We rise tonight to become outlaws, fugitives who will seek to save the country of England, who seek to bring back our rightful King, are you with me?”

  The responding roar was deafening.

  Chapter 8

  Princes and Friars

  We stayed up almost the entire night that evening, planning out the remainder of our winter months. After that fateful day in January we picked up robbing again. The stupid Lords and Ladies weren’t expecting it since we had barely robbed anyone in over three months. Because of this we made a killing in February since they were stupid and brought more gold than usual.

  The winter months slowly strolled by. February was bitterly cold with loads of snow and March came in like a lion and went out like a lion. April was more tender hearted, and in the first week it brought us mild temperatures that we greatly enjoyed.

  “Robyn, look out for that fallen log,” Much instructed.

  I grunted with ill concealed impatience. “I’m blindfolded, Much, I cannot see the log to begin with.”

  I felt someone rest a hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay Robyn,” Will Scarlet said in his silky smooth voice. “I’ll tell you when something is coming up.”

  I heard either Much or Will Stutely make some kind of negative grunt or quack as Little John came up on my other side. (It could only be Little John, for only he stomps that loudly.)

  My men halted and I was yanked to a stop before helping hands fumbled with the knot on my blindfold.

  “Sorry. Tom tied it too tight,” I heard Will Stutely apologize before he removed the blindfold.

  I eagerly blinked in the sunlight, gazing around our fully completed campsite. (I had been sleeping strictly out of the camp for the past two weeks d
ue to orders from Much and Will Stutely. They wouldn’t let me back in until they finished everything.)

  The sunlight sparkled on the bubbling surface of the small waterfall. The river lazy flowed exactly halfway through our camp, successfully dividing it. The natural wall of trees still surrounded our camp, and over sixty huts dotted the landscape. There was one giant table that could sit at least thirty people, and there were ten major fire pits. (One per every six huts.) Near the edge of the wall of trees was a dirt area that had a small hut filled with numerous weapons, and targets were hung on several of the trees.

  Three dogs roamed around the camp, and I could spot five lounging cats who had been given to us by the townspeople to control the rat population. Crafty was fenced in with wooden posts, a small pony was housed with him. (Yet another reject from Huntingdon Castle.) The pony was far too small to ride since its back barely reached my elbow, but it was perfect for clearing land as well as any other farm work that Crafty refused to do. Large rocks had been rolled by the river bed, making seats for either talking or fishing.

  The ‘best’ feature of the camp, by far, was the large, wooden sign that was shoved into the ground just a few feet away from me. It read “Welcome to the camp of Robin Hood, winner of the Golden Arrow. Sheriffs beware.”

  Sure enough, the golden arrow was tacked onto the sign. I’m not sure how it survived the winter, but I’m sure Much and Hob had a hand in it.

  I laughed with delight as my men gave me a tour, eagerly tripping over each other as they showed off. It was Much who proudly showed me my own shack, it was larger than everyone else’s (never mind that I was the smallest.) and it housed a makeshift bed as well as a cracked mirror which Maid Marian had supposedly supplied. There were hooks on the wall for my numerous disguises, and a dress that had been added to the collection.

  “Thank you!” I laughed as I reached out to hugged my friends.

  “Isn’t it grand Robyn? This is a fortress!” Hob said before whooping. Most of the Merry Men (there was now fifty seven.) joined in erupting laughter.