Scarlet

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Scarlet Page 2

by A. C. Gaughen


  I didn’t say that neither. I walked faster.

  They call Nottingham Castle the Castle Rock for good reason; it’s built on a big pile of rocks. One side is sheer rocks and the other side is a series of heavy fortified baileys. Most would think that’s the way to go, but I see rocks and I can’t help but climb ’em. The rocks are the fortifications, not the walls on top. An army can’t scale rocks, can it? And castles are built to keep armies out, not thieves.

  Rob used to live there, before the Crusades—and before the sheriff, with Prince John’s approval, took over the keep. They called Rob’s father a traitor after he died and said his lands were forfeit to the English Crown. It weren’t that he were a traitor in truth, but there were lands and there were no Rob here to defend them, so the Crown took what it could—and yet they call me a thief. When Rob heard his father died, he came back and found there weren’t nothing here but pain and suffering all around. While he were off defending his country, they were taking his birthright.

  Rob used to be an earl, if you can believe it. It’s why he feels so particular ’bout his people, and why they feel so particular about him. Most still call him Your Grace. He’ll be an earl again when King Richard comes back for sure. Rob’s the one who taught us most of the ins and outs of the castle, but some I’ve found on my own, from listening and watching and general poking round.

  “Scar?” I heard in the distance. I looked down. John weren’t far up at all. “Don’t go so fast.”

  I smiled. “I’ll wait for you at the top.” ’Course, I weren’t honestly going to the top. Three quarters up there were a secret entrance. But he didn’t need to know that; I could get in and out with Freddy before he would even be up there.

  Climbing up were quick and steady by the bright light of the moon, making the handholds gleam like the moon were pointing them out to me. There were a big rock overhanging the tunnel entrance, hiding it from sight, and I scrambled under. From there it would all be dark and lightless, but that were well enough—I had no need to see the crawlers hiding in the rock.

  The tunnel were small and bits were caving in, but it were still intact, and I kept low and ran the length of it. It went right to the apartments in the main bailey up on the top of the rock, and from there it were an easy, shadowy walk down to the prison on the middle bailey. The castle were set up like a giant twisting staircase, and each bailey were the flat of the stair, a walled, defensible castle unto itself. The top bailey were the best protected and held the people and the storerooms; the lowest were guards, and the middle bailey held just about everything else.

  Now, the prison had one entrance in the front, and that were all. Under the ground in the middle bailey, the prison didn’t have any windows. It did, however, have an air vent that were almost my size exact.

  I slid down headfirst, holding inside the vent to see if anyone were in the hallway. It were clear, and I dropped onto my hands and tucked down, staying quiet and sticking to the walls. There were rats all over the place, and the squeaks and claws covered my noises.

  “The Hood!” I heard someone whisper. I wheeled my head around. A prisoner stood, plastered to the bars. “Are you looking for the boy?”

  I nodded, keeping my head down. He pointed me to the end of the row. I could see the guard straight ahead, turned away from me, and Freddy’s cell were off to the left. It were perfect. I slid my pick from the inside of my belt as I snuck closer. Freddy were curled on his filthy bedroll. He looked even younger there, and a big bruise showed on his face.

  The locks weren’t difficult to pick, but it still took a few moments, and it weren’t even the hard part. Going painful slow, I yawned the door open, drawing out the squeak till it were quiet.

  With a breath, I snuck into the cell and pulled Freddy up, shushing him as he woke and pulling him onto my shoulders. He didn’t question me, holding on tight as I walked him out and shut the door slow behind, waiting for the heavy click of the lock.

  I ran him back to the air vent and pushed him up, then scrambled up the wall myself. He wriggled up without being told, but at the top of the vent he turned back. “Where do I go?”

  “Stay against the wall.”

  He cleared the top, and I heard Freddy give a yelp in the dark beyond. With the fear of God in me, I scrambled up to the top in time to see John lean forward and grab my arm. His grip were bruising. “I will kill you later, Scar.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Follow me.”

  We came up the gauntlet to the upper bailey, ducking into the alley that stood between the thick wall and the artisan shops. At the end of the shops, there were a gap to cross over to the apartments. I edged along the wall, waving them back until I got a clear lookabout.

  The daub wall were rough against my back. Sneaking slow, I went to the wooden post at the corner and peered around it.

  I whipped my head back, the breath rushing from my chest. I froze.

  “I expect this will garner results, Gisbourne.”

  The name burned through me like a falling star. My throat felt like a hand were closing hard around it, pressing my pipes in, strapping my lungs closed.

  I hadn’t seen him in four years, and now here he were, less than an arm’s length ’way from me. I’d run from him and kept running, and now it seemed fate’d run straight back around to slam our lives together.

  “If by ‘results’ you mean a gang of thieves to string up while the adoring people watch, I assure you it will,” came the smooth, dark voice.

  I screwed my eyes shut; his voice ate through me like acid. I felt sweat jump out of my skin, and my chest burned from not breathing. My fist found its way tight round a knife, and I sucked in a tiny breath.

  “But when, Gisbourne?”

  He laughed. “Very soon.”

  “Make sure of it. The Hood and his men are the scourge of the forest. Prince John himself has written me that these thieves must be put down like dogs. The people protect them, and I can’t find them.”

  “I can. Thieves are prey like any other, Sheriff. I hunt them, I track them, and I kill them.”

  My heart dropped out from my chest, and my hands set to shaking.

  “Good. I’ll see you to your apartments, then.”

  The two of them crossed the bailey with a flank of guards and I crouched low, part because I didn’t want them to turn and see me none and part because my knees had gone fair wobbling. I waited until they were inside the apartments and then signaled to John. He and Freddy slid up beside me, and I jumped when Freddy touched my arm.

  “The tunnel is behind the residences,” I whispered. I glanced back to watch a guard stay out front, pacing, and I sucked down a breath. “When he paces in the other direction, we can go one at a time.”

  John sighed heavy. “Christ, Scar. I’m good for something.” He kicked a bit of a cracked cobblestone loose and picked it up. He heaved it back the way we came, and the guard went on alert. A moment later he jogged toward the noise.

  “Go!” John ordered.

  I scowled but began to run. John picked Freddy up under one arm and kept pace with me, flying ’cross the open courtyard to round back of the residences, tucked safe in shadow. That were the only rub about the tunnel; it were far from everything in the castle.

  We made it to the tunnel, and I felt relief shake through me. John closed the trapdoor behind us, and once in the dark I heaved a sigh.

  “It’s dark,” Freddy pointed out.

  “I’ll go first, Freddy,” I told him. “You follow behind me.”

  “Fred,” he corrected.

  “Fred. Make sure not to lose John?”

  “I will.”

  We went quick through the tunnel, and at the mouth, in the dark, Fred pressed close to my side. “I’m not good with climbing.”

  I crouched down. “I’m good with climbing. Hop on.”

  “Don’t be silly,” John muttered, picking Fred up and slinging him onto his back. “As much as I’d like to see Will fall down Castle Rock, I’d like be
tter for you, Fred.”

  “Everyone knows Will Scarlet can do anything,” Fred told him.

  John rolled his eyes.

  I decided I’d steal Fred something extra this week for that.

  Fred were quiet most of the way back, and John and I walked with him in between us, staying pretty close to each other. I felt like Fred needed people standing close to him right then, and I got an inkling John might’ve had the same notion.

  Every step with the castle at my back meant I could breathe a touch easier, but even away from Castle Rock, and farther from Gisbourne, I didn’t feel no safer.

  Edwinstowe were due north on the main road from Nottingham. It weren’t big like Worksop, and Lord Thoresby, the nobleman responsible for the town, didn’t have the sorts of coffers for his own private guard. So more often than not Edwinstowe bore the sheriff’s anger like a little one bears a bully. Besides, past Edwinstowe the road snaked through the forest before it went to Worksop, and that were where we made most of our money, watching over the road in the shelter of the forest, if you will. It meant that the sheriff came down much harder on towns what were close to him than he did on those through the forest.

  When we walked through the town, the Coopers’ home were the only one with a candle burning inside, and I saw John hesitate as we went close. He stopped at the gate, and I stopped with him. “Go on now, Fred,” I told him. “We’ll wait.”

  Fred went forward slow, and in the low light he looked pretty white. Didn’t blame him. Mothers could be tough.

  His mother opened the door when he knocked and burst out sobbing, hauling him inside without a glance to us.

  “Where are we taking him?” John asked.

  I examined a scrape on my hand. “Much’s father will take in the family in Worksop until we can find them something elsewhere.” Licking my thumb, I rubbed out the dirt on my hand.

  “You lied to me tonight,” John said.

  I shrugged. “I lie to you a lot. Reckon you might want to be more specific.”

  “You said you’d wait at the top. You said we’d go together.”

  “Well, yes, that was a lie.”

  He turned his head. “I don’t give a damn if you lie to me, but if you do it when the life of a boy is on the line again, I swear I’ll knock your block off.”

  My ears were burning, most because John were the type that wouldn’t even joke about smacking a girl, but I just shrugged. “I got him out, didn’t I?”

  “How do you know Gisbourne?” he asked.

  I froze. Most people, when they’re frightened or something, they shriek and run away and general make it fair obvious. I’ve learned you should be very careful about what you show, so I just kind of freeze up and try to think quick. “Don’t.”

  “Yes, you do. I’ve never seen you look one inch of scared, and tonight you had a little touch of it, which I reckon means you were terrified. Did he collar you in London?”

  “I don’t know Gisbourne. I know his name. That’s all.”

  He shrugged. “You don’t have to tell me. But I will tell Rob, and he’ll get it out of you.”

  “Nothing to get.”

  Fred opened the door then with a small bundle of clothes, and his mother and sisters stood behind him. The candle in the window had been put out. “Ready to go, Fred?” I asked.

  He nodded. John put his arm on Fred’s shoulder, always the older brother.

  We walked him to Worksop, and dawn were breaking as we got there. We went to Much’s father, a miller whose shop were set away from the market center. He always needed apprentices, so it weren’t too unusual to see a young boy there. He gave us some eggs and bread for breakfast and John and me went on about our way.

  “Sorry you didn’t get back to Bess,” I said.

  “Should have figured.” He tugged a loose strand of dark brown hair that had escaped from my cap. “You’re coming undone.”

  I pushed it under the cap and pulled the cap down tighter. I felt heat on my face and hated that the sun would show me blushing.

  “I don’t know why you don’t chop it off. No one would ever know you’re a girl, and isn’t that the point?”

  “Why, so then you could knock my block off without feeling guilty?”

  His face flattened a bit. That were fine. Getting him angry meant I didn’t have to fess to the fact that I liked my hair. I liked even more that no one saw it but me. And it reminded me of someone who I liked to remember—just me. “I wouldn’t really ever hit you, Scarlet,” he grunted. “You better know that.”

  “Then don’t talk about it. If you just said what you mean, you wouldn’t have to yap so much.” I shot him a glare. “Besides, you did once.”

  “I didn’t hit you that time, I tackled you. Which was a hell of a way to find out you were a girl, by the way. Never would have done it if I’d known, and then Rob starts in on me with a holy fury, telling me not to hit a girl, because he knew.” He scowled. “Why do you tell Rob everything first?”

  “Didn’t. He figured it out on the way up from London.”

  “How?”

  “I wouldn’t never bathe with him or pass water when he were near. He got suspicious quick. Seems real boys are awfully eager to parade their bits around.”

  He snorted. “You know, that one tackle was too long ago for you to still be complaining about it. Boys settle things by fighting each other.”

  I nodded. “That were right when I got to Sherwood. Before Much were one of us. Before there were even really an us.” I kicked the leaves at my feet. It were strange how short and long that seemed in the same breath. Forever, and a blink.

  John spat. “Before Nottingham cut off Much’s hand, you mean.”

  I shrugged up. I didn’t like to think on it, much less to say it aloud.

  We hit the main road from Worksop to Edwinstowe, and there were a brewer with barrels of grain for his beer on a wagon. It might’ve even been Tuck, but I didn’t catch the front end. I ran up to it and hopped on the back, and John followed me. I gave him my hand to pull him in.

  We hid behind a barrel of grain—not from the brewer, mind, because few tradesmen around here would refuse us anything, but sometimes the sheriff’s men patrolled these parts.

  “Wonder how Rob fared,” John said.

  “I saw some deer meat at the Coopers’. Edwinstowe will eat today.”

  “I saw some bread on the step at the Woods’ house.”

  I didn’t say a word.

  “Take it that was you, then.”

  “You think I bake?”

  “No, I think you steal. Despite saying that you’re in this because Rob blackmailed you into it.”

  “I ain’t Rob’s servant, you know. Honestly, you people think I’m chained to the man.”

  “Aren’t you?”

  “No.”

  “Well, how did that all work out, then? You’re blackmailed or you’re not.”

  I sniffed. I didn’t want to admit none that Rob caught me stealing from him. Less than that did I want to remember the awful days leading up to that. “Rob gave me a devil’s choice. Told me I had to help him or he’d send me to the prison—not the gallows, with a nice quick drop and a sudden stop, but the bloody prison, where you die slow with your inner bits rotting out. But Rob ain’t the sort to really throw me in prison, is he? Didn’t know that then. But I could leave now. Fact, I might not stay much longer.”

  His eyebrows pushed together. “What?”

  Honestly. Why all the questions? He’s not deaf.

  “Why?” He leaned forward. “Why would you leave after, what, two years of us being a band? Two and a bit. Now, when things are worse than ever? Why just change your mind?”

  “I’m not from here, John.” Lie. “It’s not like these are my people.” Lie. “I don’t owe them anything and I’m getting fair bored of you and Rob always acting like you’re my fathers,” I said with a sneer that I couldn’t hold back. That were a lie and a truth. Kind of.

  He shook his head
. “First off, it’s daft to say I’m your father. We’re both eighteen. It’s not even possible.”

  “Then quit actin’ it.”

  “You know, I always thought you just liked us to think that you’re a rat. But you really are a yellow-bellied coward of the first order. How can you save Freddy and then think you have nothing to do with this? ‘Will Scarlet can do anything,’” he mocked. “’Cept be a good person. I used to wonder how a girl like you could be a thief, but I guess it figures perfectly.”

  He spat on the wagon bed by my feet, and to my horror I flinched a little. He didn’t notice, though. He were too busy scooting to the back of the wagon and jumping off.

  I pulled my knees up away from the spit and stayed on the wagon as it jostled deep into the forest. So I lied to him and poked him a little. Still, that kind of hurt. I weren’t a rat. Not by my own making, at least. Besides, the only thing that made me blurt that out in the first place were Gisbourne. He were the one person in the world I should be keeping far away from, and I couldn’t ever tell the boys why.

  Last I’d seen Gisbourne’s foul mug, I had been thirteen, bare days before my birthday, but I ain’t forgot a bit of his face. Now Gisbourne were in Nottingham, and he were coming for Robin and the lads. And me.

  If there were ever a good time to leave everything and run as far and fast as I could, it were now.

  I jumped from the wagon when I were close as I could be to our spot in the forest and made it back to the camp before John. I ignored Rob, climbing up the Major Oak. It were a broad, tall old tree, but I were the only one who could climb to the top, and I had built a little hammock up there. It were rare for birds to make perch that high. Instead of looking at great green forest and brown earth, all I could see were trouble-gray sky and spiny treetops, a whole world of Sherwood no one else could know. Rob’s band couldn’t follow me up there, and it were the only place I felt like I could sleep.

  Chapter

  Three

  I woke to the sound of Rob banging a pot in my direction. I leaned over the edge of my bed.

 

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