by N B Dixon
“I should go. Your brother Peter has only just decided I am not the devil incarnate.” He climbed up on the cart once more.
“Will you come back tomorrow?”
He sent her his best, cheeky grin. “Nothing would stop me.”
Robin was more cheerful as he rode away. The image of Much pinned beneath that tree still haunted him, but Lucy didn’t hate him. She didn’t blame him.
***
Katrina tossed and turned in her bed. The room was stuffy and the mattress had more lumps than she remembered, but that wasn’t what was keeping her awake. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Robin and that peasant girl. She hadn’t been able to get the picture of them out of her head all day.
Did that girl mean something to Robin? Was that why he had helped her brother? The girl was the one Guy had molested. Robin had come to her rescue then, too, but according to Guy, Robin had happened by and chosen to intervene.
Today, though, he had personally taken the boy to the abbey and stayed with him; she knew because he hadn’t been at home when she called. That suggested an intimacy with the family.
Unable to lie there any longer, Katrina got up and paced the room. She was being ridiculous. Robin was a kind person. It was natural that he should want to help the boy, even if he was a peasant. Wasn’t his closest friend the son of a blacksmith?
No, she was being silly. Robin had been comforting the girl, nothing more. No matter how often she told herself this, the thought of Robin and the girl still taunted her. Katrina burrowed under the bedcovers and pulled a feather pillow over her head as if that could block out the image.
She would have to watch them. She would get more information and then decide how to act. Robin was eighteen, after all. Flirting with peasant girls was what boys his age did. It couldn’t be more serious than that. It was a long time before Katrina finally fell asleep.
* * * * *
Chapter 13
That evening in the Blue Boar, the talk was all of Much’s accident. Robin sat nursing a mug of ale. He was exhausted. By the time he’d arrived back in Locksley, the dinner hour was long past.
Jane set a bowl of mutton stew on the table in front of him, together with half a loaf of yesterday’s bread. She reached over to brush a lock of hair out of Robin’s eyes, pouting as he flinched away from her touch. A sharp reprimand from her father had her hurrying off before she could say anything.
In the far corner, Alan plucked away at his lute. Robin found the tune restful after the day’s trials.
“So, all’s well that ends well?” Will said around a mouthful of bread.
“Much will live, if that’s what you mean.”
“Why the long face, then? The boy’s safe, thanks to you.”
Robin didn’t answer. He still couldn’t help but wonder, if he had got to Much in time, or if he’d been paying more attention to what the children were doing, perhaps this all could have been avoided.
Will reached over and touched his arm briefly. “You did the best you could. And you even got a civil word from that grumpy sod of a brother.”
Robin smiled. Peter’s apology had been a surprise, but Lucy’s reaction had been even better.
Will was quick to notice and even quicker to guess the reason why. “Lucy showed her gratitude, did she?”
“You could say that.”
“You’ll be seeing her again tomorrow.” It wasn’t a question.
“I promised I would ride over with her to the Abbey.”
“And what am I to tell His Lordship?”
Robin shrugged. “You’ll think of something.”
“You mean like I had to earlier? It’s lucky for you he was on his way out and didn’t stop to question me.”
Robin waved at Jane for a second helping of stew. “I have complete faith in you.”
***
Robin was up early again the following morning. He was glad not to run into his father as he left the manor and hurried to the stables. Will was already awake and had his horse saddled.
“Try not to get back too late,” Will said. “Remember, your da’s entertaining some of his fancy friends tonight. He’ll expect you to be here, and I don’t want to have to explain where you are.”
Robin cursed. He’d completely forgotten. Still, it wouldn’t do to anger his father. He had no wish for Lord Locksley to look too closely into his activities. “I’ll be here.”
Lucy was waiting for him outside the mill. Normally, it would already be operating despite the earliness of the hour, but not today. Robin slid down from the saddle and went to meet her.
Lucy stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “Won’t Lord Locksley wonder where you are?”
“Will says he’ll come up with some kind of story for him. Shall we go?”
Lucy nodded. Robin placed hands on either side of her waist and boosted her into the saddle. He climbed up behind her, wrapping his arms around her and taking up the reins. She leaned back against him, and Robin enjoyed the warm feeling of her body pressed to his.
It was another glorious summer’s day. The sun was already well up, and the birds were in full song. Robin decided to take a shortcut through Sherwood. He hadn’t dared attempt it the day before while driving the cart. There were too many ruts in the ground just waiting to shatter a cartwheel, but on a horse it was different.
Robin chose one of the better used paths, allowing the horse to set its own pace.
“I’ve never travelled this deep into Sherwood before,” Lucy said. “We were always warned against it. I’ve heard it’s a haven for outlaws.”
The thought of Gilbert White-hand was a painful stab to Robin’s heart. “There haven’t been outlaws in Sherwood Forest for years.”
“How do you know?”
In a few words, Robin told her how he had met Gilbert and about the hanging he had been forced to witness in Nottingham. Gilbert’s death still haunted him. He blamed himself for the arrest of the outlaws, though that had been thanks to Guy. Even though logic told him he could have done nothing to save Gilbert, his conscience didn’t agree.
“You came into Sherwood at the dead of night to find an outlaw, just to see who was the best at archery?”
“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” Robin said sheepishly. “I should never have taken Guy and Katrina with me. Guy has never forgiven me.”
“It’s dreadful that Gilbert wasn’t given a trial.”
“He was an outlaw.” Robin heard the bitterness in his own voice. “They live outside the law, therefore the law does not apply to them.”
They reached the abbey too soon for Robin’s liking. He helped Lucy to dismount and tethered the horse.
Lucy slipped her hand into his, gripping tightly. He knew she was worrying about Much.
“It will be all right.” He gave her fingers a gentle squeeze.
The same nun let them in. “He had a good night,” she informed them. “We are checking him regularly for signs of fever. The important thing is that the wound does not become infected. You may see him for a few minutes. He tires easily.”
Much was currently one of only two patients in the infirmary. Robin averted his eyes from the other, still, shrouded body lying on a straw pallet not far away. He had a nasty feeling that whoever was under the sheet was dead.
Much was awake. His thin face was pale and drawn, and there were circles under his eyes, but he managed a weak smile at the sight of his sister.
“Much!” Lucy knelt beside him and took his hand. “How are you feeling?”
“My leg hurts a lot.”
Much smiled shyly at Robin. “Thank you for saving my life. Mam says you brought me here, but I don’t remember it.”
Robin came to kneel on his other side. “You were very brave.”
“Where is Mam?” Lucy asked.
“She’s getting some much-needed rest.” One of the infirmary sisters had come bustling over, some bandages draped over one arm and an evil-smelling poultice in her hand. She waved Robin and L
ucy back with a peremptory gesture and pulled down the coarse blanket covering Much.
Robin winced. Much’s leg was in a splint. His britches had been cut away to above the knee. The wound had been stitched, Robin saw as the bandages were stripped away, and it looked clean.
“Off you go,” the sister said, waving them towards the door. “You can come back after I’ve changed the dressings. Why not go for a walk in the grounds? It’s such a nice day.”
“I think he looks a little better,” Lucy said as soon as they were outside. “But his leg. I wonder if he will ever be able to use it again.”
“Of course he will.” Robin spoke with more certainty than he felt. “He will get the best of care here. The nuns know what they are doing.”
Lucy nodded.
Robin took her hand again as they walked, hoping to lend some reassurance. In truth, he thought it would be a miracle if Much could ever use that leg again. He would be a cripple for the rest of his life. But miracles did happen. God could be merciful. Robin had never been particularly religious, but he made a mental note to include Much in his prayers during Mass on Sunday.
They walked for a while in silence. The grounds of Kirklees Abbey were spacious and well-tended. Everywhere, they passed nuns busy about their daily chores. Some inclined their heads or waved in greeting. They paused for a moment to watch two nuns busy digging up turnips in the vegetable garden. Further on, they reached the herb garden, where a lot of the medicinal plants were grown, and were assaulted by the heady smell of lavender, mixed with the sharp scent of sage and other smells Robin couldn’t identify.
“I need to get home soon,” Lucy said. “Da will need my help with Mam staying here. Thank you for bringing me.”
“Any time.” He bent to kiss her. He’d meant to keep it brief, conscious of their potential audience, but Lucy had other ideas. Her arms went around him, and she deepened the kiss.
Someone cleared their throat loudly, and they broke apart.
“I have finished with your brother,” the infirmary nun said. Disapproval was written all over her face. “I’ve given him a dose of poppy juice to help him sleep. If you want to say goodbye, I should do it now before it takes effect.”
“Thank you, Sister,” Lucy said meekly.
Much was already half-asleep when they returned. Lucy bent to kiss his forehead.
“I’ll be back to see you soon.”
“When can I go home?”
Lucy smoothed back the hair from his brow. “Not yet. You need to get better first, and that will take a while.”
Much turned his head to look at Robin. “When I’m well, will you teach me to shoot a bow and arrow like you do?”
“Of course. You get some sleep and I’ll come back and see you later.”
Robin waited outside while Lucy paid a brief visit to her mother. He wondered if Much would ever be able to use a bow. His future was still so uncertain, and the longbow required physical strength as well as skill. Robin made a silent promise to himself there and then that if Much was still interested once he was well, he would teach him, even if it meant making him his own bow.
***
On the ride home, Robin sought to distract Lucy with questions about her childhood. Her upbringing had been so different to his, that he was fascinated. She was telling him about one terrible day when she had almost drowned in the mill pond, when Robin tensed. At the same time, his horse pricked its ears.
“What’s wrong?” Lucy said, picking up on his change of mood.
“Hush.” Robin reined in the horse and sat listening. At first, there was nothing apart from the usual sounds of the forest. He had begun to hope he was imagining things when, out of the corner of his eye, he caught a stealthy movement. Guy, he thought at once. It would give Guy enormous satisfaction to tell Lord Locksley what he had seen.
“Stay here,” Robin said as he dismounted and drew the dagger from his belt.
He began walking in the direction he had seen movement. He was used to travelling stealthily through the forest. Tracking was second nature to him. He had often followed animals for miles, just to see if he could, and was adept at reading the signs other creatures left behind.
He didn’t know what he was going to do when he and Guy came face to face, but if it was a reckoning Guy wanted, Robin was more than happy to give him one.
A bush nearby trembled. Robin’s hand tightened around his dagger. He wished he had thought to bring his bow, but that would hardly have been appropriate for a visit to an abbey.
Sir Richard of Lee stepped onto the path. “Would you kill me, Robin?”
Robin lowered his dagger and smiled with relief.
“You startled me. What are you doing here?”
“I’ve been waiting for you. Everyone knows you saved the miller’s son and took him to the abbey. I thought you might ride over this way.”
The smile slipped off Robin’s face. “My father sent you, didn’t he?”
“He was worried about you.”
Robin snorted. “You mean he was suspicious. He is never happy unless he knows about every aspect of my life.”
“Isn’t it natural that he should take an interest in your welfare? You’ve been slipping away every day, so the servants tell me. Your friend Will is concerned about you.”
“He told you where to find me?”
Sir Richard smiled. “He didn’t have to. You’re not the only one who’s good at tracking.” He pointed over his shoulder towards the glade where Robin had left Lucy. “Do you want to tell me what you are doing with that girl?” There was an altogether different tone in his voice.
Robin bristled. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t play games with me, Robin. I thought you were better than this.”
“You know nothing,” Robin snapped. He was stung that Sir Richard could think so little of him.
They stared at each other for a long moment.
“Who is she?” Sir Richard asked.
Robin thought about refusing to answer, but he knew Sir Richard wouldn’t drop it. “Her name is Lucy. Guy and a bunch of his cronies were assaulting her, and I came to her defence.” Robin neglected to mention that he had been knocked out cold. It still rankled.
“I see.”
Robin waited, but his tutor said nothing more.
Finally, Robin had to ask. “Are you going to tell Father?”
“You must tell him yourself. You have a good heart, Robin, and I can see you like this girl. Just have a care. You are a lord’s son, and you have a future to consider. Don’t do anything that might leave you or the girl hurt.”
Robin nodded, his throat too tight for words. Affection swelled in him for his tutor, who had always been far more of a father to him than Lord Locksley.
“I shall return to Locksley Manor,” Sir Richard said. “Sherwood is a big forest. Perhaps I will have better luck finding you tomorrow.”
Robin could only nod again. He stood motionless after Sir Richard had gone.
A faint rustling had him whipping around, dagger half out of its sheath, but it was only Lucy. She was leading the horse, and her expression was troubled. It was obvious she had heard every word of his and Sir Richard’s conversation.
“Will Lord Locksley be very angry with you?”
“Sir Richard will say nothing.” When she continued to look worried, he sighed. “He was giving me a friendly warning. My father and I scarcely agree on anything, especially when it comes to my future, or the one he has mapped out for me. He would have me be the lord of the manor. I have never wanted that.”
“What do you want?”
A mischievous grin lit Robin’s face. “Right now, I want to do this.” He wrapped his arms around her, silencing her protests with a kiss. He didn’t care what the future held. Now was all that mattered. When they drew apart, both were breathless. Robin was relieved to see that Lucy was smiling.
“I should get you home, or your father will think I have run off with you.”
; She nodded with a sigh of regret that warmed him.
As he helped her into the saddle, he said, “I would never hurt you, Lucy, I swear.”
***
Katrina dismounted from her sweating horse. Locksley Manor was quiet. There was only one other person in the yard—Robin’s friend whose name she could never remember. He was shoeing a young colt, one of its legs clasped between his knees while the animal stood patiently on three legs. His boots were caked in mud and worse, and bits of straw clung to his worn tunic.
Katrina wrinkled her nose in distaste, but then forced her face into a polite smile. “Good morning.”
The boy looked up briefly from his work. The glance he gave her was bold and appraising. Katrina blushed.
“I’m looking for Robin,” she said with as much dignity as she could muster. “Is he at home?”
“No.”
Katrina tried to hide her disappointment. Out again? Where can he be this time? Perhaps he was avoiding her.
The boy—Will, yes, that was his name—was still watching her. Katrina thought she saw a flicker of contempt in his eyes.
“He’s not here. I’d be off home if I were you, lass.”
Lass? Who does this peasant think he is? Katrina checked her temper with an effort. “Do you know how long he will be?”
“No.”
“You expect me to believe he told nobody when he would be back?” She put as much derision into her voice as she could. But if she had hoped to embarrass him, she was disappointed. Finished with his work, he gave the horse a pat.
“If you’ve a message, hurry up and give it. I’ve no time to stand around gossiping.”
He was dismissing her? As if she were a servant? This was too much. Katrina lashed out with her riding crop.
Will did not duck quite in time, and it caught him across the cheek, raising a welt. Blood trickled down his face, but he still managed to smile.
“Hardly fitting behaviour for one of your station.”
Katrina was trembling with rage. “You will show me some respect. I am Lady Katrina of Gisborne.”
He bowed, but there was nothing respectful about it. His mouth was twisted in a sneer.