by N B Dixon
“Certainly, my son.”
Robin hid his amusement with difficulty. It had been years since he had taken lessons in reading and writing from the priest. Evidently, the man was no longer quite sure how to talk to him.
“You know that Lucy and I want to get married. I’m sure you have heard that she is going to have a child.”
Father Adam pursed his lips in disapproval. “A woman’s virtue should be treasured and guarded, not thrown about wantonly.”
Robin ignored this. “We would like to be married as soon as possible.”
Father Adam tugged at a fold of his cassock, looking uncomfortable. “I cannot do as you ask.”
“Why not?”
“You must understand.” Father Adam was looking more uncomfortable by the second. “My position here, it is entirely dependent on the generosity of others. Your father has made it quite clear that should I aid you in your wish to marry the girl, he will speak to the bishop. I will lose my place.”
Rage rose up in Robin, as hot and fierce as the cooking fires nearby. He had half a mind to stride up to Locksley Manor and have this out with his father. But he knew it would do no good. Lord Locksley had taken his petty revenge the only way he could, by making it difficult for his son to marry the woman of his choice.
Robin felt a light touch on his arm. Turning, he saw Lucy looking up at him, her face anxious.
“I saw you talking to Father Adam. What did he say?”
Robin pulled her away from the merrymakers. “It seems my dear father has told our priest that he will see him removed from Locksley if he agrees to marry us.”
“How could anyone be that cruel?”
“Cruelty is a skill of my father’s. He has developed it over many years.”
Unable to bear her stricken face, Robin drew her to him. She leaned her head against his shoulder.
“What now?” she asked.
“We’ll think of something. Perhaps a handfasting. Children born under such a union are just as legitimate as those whose parents have been married before a priest. We can wait until another priest passes through and then have a proper wedding.”
“If that’s what you want.” She smiled up at him.
They were silent for a few moments, listening to the sounds of revelry all around them. “I’ve been thinking,” Lucy murmured. “About what to call the baby.”
“Oh?”
“I thought Peter if it’s a boy and Matilda if it’s a girl.”
Robin forced a smile. He had just noticed Will out of the corner of his eye, looking over at them. Will’s expression was difficult to read. As Robin watched, he turned and hurried away. Robin’s stomach twisted.
“That sounds perfect,” he said.
Lucy wasn’t fooled. She had also seen Will. “What did you argue about yesterday?”
“He thinks I made a mistake in bringing Katrina back to Locksley.”
“But you had no choice. You could hardly have left her to face her brother.”
“Will suspects that she might be here on Guy’s orders as a spy.”
Lucy snorted. “Then he is even dafter than he looks. Come and dance with me.”
As Robin allowed himself to be swept along with the dancers, he noticed Katrina watching him.
***
Will bent and picked up a stone from the bank of the mill stream. With a flick of his hand, he sent it skipping over the water’s surface. It leapt three times before sinking, and he bent for another. Music carried faintly to him on the still night air. The weather had finally turned, and he rubbed briskly at his arms to warm them. But he knew it wasn’t only the night that was making him cold. Seeing Robin standing there with Lucy in his arms had hit him like a punch to the stomach—far harder than the blow Robin had given him the day before.
Being around Robin these past few weeks, without Lord Locksley breathing down their necks, had been more difficult than he’d expected. However hard he tried to ignore it, he was always aware of Robin—his moods, the way he moved, how his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled.
Enough, he told himself. He loves her—any fool can see that. It’s time to accept it and move on. The trouble was, his heart wasn’t listening to his head. Sighing, Will turned from the stream and headed for home.
* * * * *
Chapter 18
The reverberation struck the mill door with the force of a battering ram.
Robin jolted awake. For a moment, he was disoriented, wondering what had woken him. Then the thud came again, louder, and with it, voices.
“Open up, in the name of Guy of Gisborne.”
Lucy had sat up, frightened and sleepy-eyed. “Robin, what is it?”
“They’ve come for Katrina.” Robin threw off his threadbare blanket and shoved his feet into his boots. He scrambled down the loft ladder, Lucy on his heels.
The rest of the family had been asleep downstairs. Meg, Much and Katrina were also up, their petrified faces glued to one of the window slits cut into the walls.
“They’ve got the mill surrounded,” Harry said. He was clutching a rake in one hand and a quarterstaff in the other. His face was grim. Robin snatched up his sword from where it stood propped with his bow and quiver against the wall. He thought about taking the bow, too, but it would be no use in this kind of situation.
“How many do you count?” he asked Harry.
“About a dozen, I’d say.”
“All right.” Robin turned to the women and Much. “Get up into the loft and stay there.”
Then he remembered. There was no way Much could climb the loft ladder. He hesitated, but Lucy broke in before he could speak.
“Much and Mam can stay here. We need to hide Katrina. The forest would be best.”
Robin knew she was right, but he didn’t like it. He gave a curt nod. The time for discussion was over. Robin turned towards the door, but Lucy’s voice stopped him.
“Be careful, Robin.”
He flashed her a quick grin. “Don’t worry about me.”
Another resounding thud on the door made everyone jump. “One minute left and counting,” a harsh male voice shouted.
Katrina let out a stifled sob.
“Get up to the loft,” Harry said. “We’ll lure them away from the mill, then you make a run for it.” To Robin, he said, “Are you ready, son?”
Robin nodded. “Remember, we can’t kill them. The law is on Guy’s side. It would be a hanging offence, and I doubt my father would lift a finger to stop him. He can always find another miller.”
Harry grunted his agreement. Meg wrapped her arms around Much and held him tightly. Harry waited until Lucy and Katrina were out of sight, and the ladder with them, before flinging back the sturdy bolts on the mill door.
The men from Gisborne Manor stood in a menacing group. Every one of them was armed. Robin saw that Guy was not among them, but he recognised Ralph. It was like Guy to get others to do his dirty work for him.
“Can I help you?” Harry asked.
“You are holding a lady here unlawfully,” Ralph announced. “I demand you hand her over at once.”
“As you see, there is only my wife. Who is it you believe we have?”
“Lady Katrina of Gisborne. Bring her out, or we shall go in and fetch her, and then it’ll be the worse for you.”
Other cottage doors had opened, and men were flooding out. Many were armed with knives and quarterstaffs.
Robin stepped forward, placing himself between Harry and his accusers.
“What makes you think the lady is here?”
“She went missing from her home the day you paid us a visit. Guy of Gisborne has reason to believe she was kidnapped.”
“And yet he can’t be certain, or surely he would be here himself.”
“Hold your tongue,” Ralph ordered, waving a vicious-looking axe, “or I’ll cut it out.”
Robin raised his sword. “You might find that more difficult than you think.”
Ralph sneered. “So, Robi
n of Locksley is now the defender of peasants.”
“My name is Robin Hood.” Robin’s sword blade whipped forward, and Ralph only just managed to block it.
“Get them!” he screamed at his men.
The next few minutes were chaos. As Gisborne’s men charged at the mill, the villagers attacked.
Robin saw Will dive into the fray, daggers gleaming, and his heart leapt.
He parried another clumsy thrust from Ralph’s axe, scoring a shallow cut on his arm. Ralph howled and dropped the axe to clutch at his wound.
“I’d say whoever taught you to use that axe did a poor job,” Robin commented. “I suggest you leave the fighting to those who know how.”
Ralph let out an inarticulate sound of fury and lunged at Robin, only to be clobbered on the head by Harry’s whirling quarterstaff. The man went down like a toppled tree.
Robin yelled to a boy standing watching on the sidelines, “Run for help to the manor, quickly.”
Will was there, fighting beside him, a fierce grin on his face. He plunged his dagger deep into the thigh of one man before laying out another with a punch to the jaw.
“This is fun.”
Robin kicked one man in the testicles before clouting him on the temple with the hilt of his sword for good measure. “You worry me sometimes.”
Will laughed. “Admit it, you’re enjoying yourself.”
It was true. The villagers were running rings around Guy’s men.
“Look out!” Robin yelled as a heavy cudgel swung out of nowhere, aiming for Will’s head. Will flung up a protective arm, and the blow caught him across the back of his hand.
Before the man could strike again, Robin had dispatched him with another well-aimed blow from his sword hilt. He turned back to Will, whose hand was bleeding profusely.
“How bad is it?”
“Never saw the horson coming. I’ll be fine.”
The battle was over swiftly. On the whole, the villagers had given a good account of themselves. Many of Guy’s men were wounded, and several were unconscious. No one had been killed, and none of the villagers were seriously hurt.
Edgar arrived, panting, on the scene.
About time, Robin thought as he wrapped a makeshift bandage around Will’s hand.
“What’s going on here?” Edgar demanded.
Ralph stepped forward. Blood streaked his face and arm, and he looked livid.
He jabbed a finger at Robin. “It is against the law for any villager to carry a sword.”
“This is Robin of Locksley,” Edgar said.
Robin was flabbergasted. Edgar was defending him?
Ralph sneered. “He was disinherited. Everyone knows that.”
“That does not give you the right to attack this village. I will ask you again, why are you here?”
“A lady is being held prisoner in that mill. Bring her out or we’ll return with a larger posse tomorrow, and it will go badly for this village.”
“Search the mill if you wish,” Edgar snapped. “You’ll find no prisoner.”
Robin tensed and felt Harry do the same beside him.
“Let me guess,” Will murmured to Robin. “She’s still hiding in there.”
Robin grimaced in reply. He hoped Lucy had got Katrina to safety.
Ralph beckoned a couple of his men, and they followed him into the mill.
Edgar turned on Robin. “Are you behind this?”
“We’re holding no one against their will.”
“And what do you think will become of you all when the sheriff hears what has happened?”
Robin’s voice was cold. “These men have a right to defend their homes against intruders.”
Ralph and his lackeys reappeared from the mill a few minutes later, Meg and Much behind them. It was obvious from their expressions that they had found no one else.
“Now, I’ll thank you to get off this property,” Edgar said. “You can be sure that Lord Locksley will be reporting your behaviour to the sheriff.”
The men left without further protest.
Edgar turned to Robin, suspicion in every line of his face. “I don’t know what you’re up to, but you won’t get away with it a second time.”
“It was good of you to come to our rescue,” Robin said. “We appreciate it.”
Edgar looked disdainful. Evidently, the temporary truce was over. “Lord Locksley does not take kindly to armed men on his land.”
***
Will sat nursing a mug of ale in his uninjured hand. The Blue Boar was packed, despite the lateness of the hour, as the men discussed their trouncing of Gisborne’s thugs. Robin sat across from him. He appeared to be unhurt, which was typical. His sword was back in its sheath at his hip. Will searched for words to break the silence that had fallen between them.
“I wish I could see Guy’s face right about now. He’ll be hopping mad that his men were beaten by a load of peasants waving quarterstaffs.”
Robin didn’t smile. “We haven’t heard the last of this. Guy will try again. His pride won’t allow him to just let this go.”
Will could guess the direction of Robin’s thoughts. “It wasn’t your fault.”
Robin raised an eyebrow. “Wasn’t it you who pointed out that bringing Katrina to Locksley was a mistake?”
Will resisted the urge to lean forward and push the hair back from Robin’s eyes. “You meant well enough,” he said gruffly. “I still say we’d be better off sending her somewhere else.”
“Where, exactly?”
“Kirklees Abbey, maybe. I reckon the nuns would take her in.”
Robin looked at him. “That isn’t a bad idea.”
“’Course it isn’t. I am the one with brains, after all.”
Robin’s lips twitched. “I could bloody your nose again for you.” Then he sobered. “Sorry, by the way.”
Will hid his surprise. He hadn’t expected an apology. “No matter. You hit like a girl, anyway. I’ve told you that before.”
Robin’s answer was a snort. “I should get back to the mill, check on Lucy and the others.”
Will watched him leave. Perhaps it was his imagination, but Robin appeared to glide rather than walk across the room. He made the men around him seem clumsy by comparison. Will loved just to look at him. He was glad they were on speaking terms again.
***
Katrina studied Lucy where she sat close to one of the window slits, through which a weak autumn sunlight was filtering. She had some sewing on her lap—one of her brother’s tunics, it looked like—and was oblivious to Katrina’s presence. One flaxen curl draped becomingly over her cheek. From time to time, she would push it back behind her ear, only for it to swing forward again a few seconds later.
Hatred bubbled up in Katrina. Her fingers itched to close on the quarterstaff propped against the wall and bring it down on Lucy’s pretty head. The memory of Lucy in Robin’s arms at the feast mocked her. It had been the final proof. Robin was in love with the peasant girl. He had rejected Katrina. Again, her eyes strayed to the quarterstaff, but she forced herself to look away. She had to bide her time. She had her plan. It only remained to put it into action.
“Would you like some help?”
Lucy jumped, pricking her finger. Katrina saw a single drop of blood fall on the sleeve of the tunic she was mending.
She stuck her bleeding fingertip in her mouth. “I’m sorry. I’m still a bit jumpy after last night.”
Katrina came to sit beside her. “I feel terrible. It’s my fault those men came. I’ve lain awake all night thinking about it. It’s because of me that you were all put in such danger. I should go.”
“Don’t be silly,” Lucy said. “You’re safe here. And anyway, where else could you go?”
Katrina sighed. “Sometimes I think things would be much easier if this child had never been conceived. I wish I could get rid of it. I suppose that sounds terrible.”
Lucy reached over and patted her knee. “I understand. I thought of doing the same thing to s
ave Robin from having to choose between me and his birthright.”
Tears came to Katrina’s eyes. Inwardly, she marvelled at her acting ability. “I know my Elias would stand by me, but Guy would kill him. I cannot put him in such danger. It would be much better if this child were to die.”
Lucy looked uncomfortable. “If you’re serious about wanting rid of it—”
“I am. It would be so much easier for all concerned.”
“Then you could go and see Old Molly. She is our local wise woman and midwife. She might be able to suggest something that would help you.”
Katrina jumped up. “I will go to her now.”
“I’ll go with you to show you the way.” Lucy started to get to her feet, but she swayed and had to clutch Katrina for support.
“Are you all right?” Katrina helped ease her back down onto her stool.
“It’s the sickness,” Lucy confessed. “It’s always worse in the mornings. Mam’s old remedies aren’t working.”
“Then I will not hear of you going anywhere,” Katrina said firmly. “I’ll get directions from someone. Why don’t you go and lie down? I’ll finish your dear little brother’s tunic when I return.”
Lucy made a half-hearted protest, but it was clear she was feeling unwell, and Katrina soon had her settled in the loft upstairs. She brought her a cup of watered ale and left her.
***
“So, what’s the plan?” Will asked.
“Katrina said Prince John was making a bid for the throne, and he has several nobles, including Guy, in his pocket. We have to get a message to Sir Richard. He should know what Guy is up to.”
“So we’re leaving?”
Robin shook his head. “We shouldn’t both go. I don’t like the idea of leaving this village undefended after last night.”
“I’d say the villagers gave as good as they got. Did you see Harry brain that stuck-up steward with a quarterstaff?” Will grinned at the memory.
Robin didn’t share Will’s mood. An odd sense of foreboding had gripped him. He’d woken up with it, and it had stalked him ever since. While everyone else was chuckling over their success in seeing off Guy’s men, Robin couldn’t help feeling there was worse to come.