Scarlet

by A. C. Gaughen

  “I don’t know,” I murmured.

  “You don’t eat.”

  My mug felt hot. “I don’t need much. After London, it were always fair hard to eat much. Having none for so long weren’t easy. And now that I do, there are other people that need it more.”

  “Why didn’t you eat in London? You’re one of the best thieves I’ve ever met. You could have stolen your body weight in food.”

  A scoff jumped out of my throat. “I were barely a thief then. Besides, there were other people that needed it there too.”

  “Was there a person in London you were stealing food for?”

  “We’re honest with each other, right, Rob?”

  He nodded.

  “Then don’t make me answer that.”

  He looked at me for a long time, and I wouldn’t clap eyes on him. “So what can I do, then?”

  “It’s life, Rob. Nothing to be done.”

  “Make no mistake,” he told me. I looked up. “We do what we do—” He halted, then stepped one foot closer. “I do what I do because I will always believe that no matter how awful life gets for however many of these people, there is something I can do about it. There is something I will do about it.”

  I nodded. “That’s why you’re the hero, Rob, and I’m a thief.”

  I turned out the back way then; there weren’t much more to say.

  He caught my wrist before I were full out the door. “Scar,” he said, rough, like rocks were running over his tongue. “I have done so many unforgivable things in my life. Don’t let failing to save you be another.”

  I pulled my hand away. “I never asked to be saved!”

  That were enough. I went outside, eager for the cold on my hot cheeks.

  John and I stayed quiet that first night. I weren’t much in the mood for chat, and he had to listen for game as best he could anyway. I stayed high in a tree for most of the night; I caught more moonlight up there and I could see farther, so I could aim better when I saw a deer. I were better on the ground with knives, of course, but in the sky I didn’t mind using a bow. I were fair decent with it; none so good as Rob, but I managed. I killed two, and John dressed both. I didn’t like that part, seeing all the inner bits come out. I always think how easy it would be for someone to slit my belly and watch all my inner bits slide out.

  We took them back to the cave, and John and Much set to skinning them and cutting the meat. I watched, sharpening my knives and unstringing my bow. I never liked hunting. Well, I liked hunting right fair, but I didn’t like blood. So much of it had to come from an animal to feed a town, and it felt strange to me.

  This, more than stealing baubles, were what made us thieves, and outlaws, and all the names the sheriff called us. Sherwood were the king’s forest, a protected land that were meant to be his hunting grounds. But England were a country without a king. King Richard, him they called the Lionheart, had taken his lion paws over to the Holy Land. He were off fighting infidels while his people—while my people—starved. There wouldn’t be no game left for hunting when Richard returned. ’Stead of deer, England would be full up of wolves, the biggest among them Prince John.

  John and Much wrapped packages of meat in the skins, and Rob and I set off quick. Rob headed for Worksop and I went to Edwinstowe, delivering the meat before sunup.

  We parceled out the meat as best we could, trying to get to each family a cut that would feed them for the day at least. Some of the families had more luck than others; farmers had crops to feed their families, and some of the summer crops did fair well. Even if they were settled, though, when we got food, we shared it round.

  I were through most of Edwinstowe when I heard the soldiers. I slid against one of the house frames, hoping they didn’t have a dog with them. I were covered in the smell of raw meat.

  “Damn night patrols,” one grumbled.

  “Gisbourne’s a fool. Everyone knows the Hood’s just a ghost.”

  “Yeah, but somebody’s poaching, ain’t they? And we’re meant to catch the poachers.”

  “And kill them. That ain’t on.”

  “We bring ’em in and the sheriff’ll kill ’em. We don’t have to do it ourself.”

  “I don’t get the plan. He thinks killing all them we catch together in some big thing will get the Hood to come out. Hood’s a ghost!”

  “And if there were a Hood, and I were the Hood, I’d get them out the night before. Gisbourne’s none too smart.”

  “No.”

  “Maybe we can amble by Tuck’s. Rosie’s had that sparkle in her eye lately.”

  The other chuckled. “Mind it ain’t no apple in her eye, lad.”

  “Sheriff won’t never know. Let’s go over.”

  The other man nodded.

  I stayed hidden until they cleared, and then I bolted to Major Oak.

  “It’s fine,” Rob said when I finished telling him all I heard. “We just don’t let anyone get caught poaching.”

  It didn’t feel fine. It felt like a big storm, and Gisbourne were in the eye of it.

  Chapter

  Five

  The next morning were a long one spent on the road. There were a slew of travelers that morning, and I felt fair flush as I sussed them out. Some lords tried to look like the poorest of men, but they still rode huge horses and were hale and fed. Shameful. I liked picking those out the most. One set of knights were hauling a big chest of jewels for a lady, delicate and fine indeed, and when we cracked it open, far to the side of the road, I felt a smile bubble out of me.

  “This will cover most of the people in Nottinghamshire,” John marveled.

  I let a string of diamonds run through my fingers like rainwater. “Feed ’em and clothe ’em too.”

  Robin winked at us. “That was a good spot, Scarlet.”

  I grinned, watching the sun bounce off a silver bar. “Oh, I know.”

  “This is excellent news, lads. Once we fence most of this, we’ll have time to spare for tax day.” Rob nodded at me. “And we can focus on running Gisbourne out of town.”

  I nodded back, sucking in a breath that made my chest swell up. He were right, ’course. It would all be fine, and we were safe as houses.

  It were later that afternoon when I walked through the market in Worksop with Much. The people in the shire towns liked Much best; he were an awful good listener, and they all knew him from a whip of a boy. Only, he didn’t always know which were the important bits, so I went with him to listen to what he heard.

  It were strange. People looked at him and they gave everything over. They wanted to talk to him, and they wanted to pat his good hand and kiss his cheek and stand next to him. I weren’t the same as him. I stood alone, though I weren’t fair sure if that were by my own choice or not. Honestly, watching him, I felt like a leper.

  I also felt a little noticeable. “Hello, Will,” I heard from beside me. Two girls were crowding around a launder basket and beaming at me. I tucked my hat down lower and frowned.

  “Everyone’s heard what you did for Freddy Cooper,” her friend said.

  I scowled. “You think yapping about that will be good for anyone?”

  They shut their mouths. “We weren’t.”

  “You were. Your mothers should have taught you better.”

  They both flushed, but one still bit her lip like she were sweet on me. I scowled again. Stupid chit. I shook my head, looking over to Much, and by the time I looked back she were next to me; she took my face in both her hands and kissed me.

  I whipped away, sputtering oaths as she went back to her friend and ran off, giggling the two of them.

  And they weren’t the only ones. Much were bent over in laughter. I pushed him, and he rolled to the floor without my intended insult. “Come off it!” I stamped my foot.

  “What’s so funny?” John asked, coming over in the middle of eating an apple. He tossed me an apple and I threw it at Much.

  He only laughed harder. “K-k-kissed Scar!” he hooted.

  “Someone
kissed you?” John asked, turning to me. He didn’t look like it were too funny. “Who is he?”

  This made Much laugh more.

  “None of your business, John Little,” I told him.

  He stepped closer to me with a flat face that, if I could ape it, I’d never be kissed by a stupid girl when I didn’t want to be. “Who, Scar?”

  “Jenny Percy!” Much roared.

  John’s face broke open, like a smile could split a black mood. “Wait till Rob hears this.”

  “You two are nothing but loose lips,” I snapped.

  John grinned. “Sounds like Jenny just got your lips a little looser.”

  “It isn’t funny.”

  “Look at Much. Of course it’s funny. I’ll tell you, though, wouldn’t I have loved to see the look on your face.”

  “What happened to her shining on you? Weren’t you fiddling around with her?”

  “Her cousin, Emma.” He smiled. “Now she had lips that could do quite a bit of loosening on me.”

  I shook my head, disgusted, and then a shine caught my eye. I grabbed John’s shirtfront and dragged him back behind the weaver’s shop. Much jumped up, but I shook my head. It were too late; he’d look suspect. John didn’t crack wise as I drew my knives, hooking eyes round the corner to watch Gisbourne come through the market.

  He stopped in the center of the market square, stepping up on a small fountain. “Perhaps I should introduce myself,” he called. People stopped to look at him. He were wrapped in violence as if it were clothes, his cloak like death, his armor like blades. His hair were shaggy as an animal’s and it looked like the Devil were trapped in his head.

  “I am Guy of Gisbourne, and I have been hired by your sheriff to hunt down the one you call the Hood. I’ve been informed that rather than outing this criminal amongst you, you protect him.” His lip curled, and the points of his teeth shone like a snake’s fangs. “Now, I don’t know how long it will take,” he said, and his voice shook me like a dry leaf. Everyone went dead quiet. “But I’ll track the Hood and his men, and I will find them. When I find them, I will kill them. Anyone along the way that I even suspect of helping the Hood and his gang will lose everything—starting with his life.”

  He snapped his fingers, and his guards brought forth two men. I looked to John. “Stay. I need to get to the side.”

  He nodded, and his hands pulled me to the other side of him at my waist. I were fair certain I didn’t need the help, so I didn’t know why he did it. “Be careful, Scar. He nabs you and I’ll go after you, and there’s more of them so I’ll die doing it. But I’ll still do it.”

  “Don’t be stupid,” I hissed, moving past him.

  I walked around the outside of the market square, catching glimpses of Gisbourne taking a local villager and putting a knife to his throat. I saw a longbow drawn taut, and I sidled up beside Robin. He nodded to me, never shaking a muscle. “Go up,” he murmured. “Cover my shot.”

  I nodded, scaling onto the roof of a little house right quick.

  “Now,” Gisbourne continued. “I know you good people know who the Hood is. You love him. You protect him. But will you die for him? I don’t think so.” He looked to his first captive. I weren’t sure, but he might have been the dyer. Worksop did a lot of clothwork. “So what can you tell me about the Hood?”

  “His name’s Robin,” he blurted. “Robin of Locksley.”

  Gisbourne looked right shocked, and his arm loosened an inch. “Earl Huntingdon?”

  The man nodded, and Robin took his shot, sending the arrow whizzing over Gisbourne’s knuckles. It were an impossible shot, skimming Gisbourne and missing his captive altogether when a hair either way would have sent it off, but Rob made it. Rob’s like that. Gisbourne dropped the man and roared in pain.

  “Something to discuss with me, Guy of Gisbourne?” Rob called. The people scattered at this chance, the second captive forgotten.

  “Guards!” Gisbourne called, drawing his sword.

  I couldn’t resist. I’m a thief; we weren’t never good with temptation, honestly. I pulled a knife out and flicked it; with the clear angle, it sliced a deep line into his left cheekbone. Blood began to drip fast, I noticed with a grin.

  I flattened to the roof as he held back from chasing Rob, looking around for his attacker. He didn’t see me, but he did see my knife in the ground. I hadn’t put a ribbon on it. Small mercies like that are the only reason I tend to go to church.

  He picked up the knife and tucked it in his belt, going after Rob. I looked around, and I saw Rob on the roof next to me, looking at me like he knew why I threw the knife. I hated that look.

  Gisbourne sent his men round the village, leaving the dyer to grab his wife and hide inside their house. Fact, most people did the same, and soon Much and John were hidden in someone’s house and Rob and I were hidden on separate roofs, huddled against the chimneys. It weren’t long after that Gisbourne sent his men into the forest to search for us, leaving a few in the town square to wait.

  We stayed separate until the farmers came home and people came out of their houses so we could fade into them like shadows. The four of us met up in the forest and headed back to Major Oak.

  “Rob, did you hear about Scar’s new lover?” John crowed.

  Rob looked sharp to me. “Was there an old one?”

  “Jenny Percy!” Much said, pleased with himself.

  Rob smiled. “Of a band with three actual boys, why is it that all the maids lust after the fake one?”

  “I had nothing to do with it! I were right in the middle of telling her off and she kissed me,” I grumped.

  “Thought all you girls liked to be insulted,” John told me, pinching my side.

  I hit his arm. “Don’t touch me, and don’t lump me with that kind. She said everyone heard ’bout Freddy, Rob. If townspeople are talking, things are going to get worse.”

  He looked at me, still smiling. “For us, maybe a little. But when they talk to each other about us, they’re passing on hope, Scar. The girls love you because you give them their hope back.”

  I spat on the ground. “And if they ever knew it were a girl giving them hope back, they’d hiss at me on the way past.”

  “Some of them know,” Rob reminded.

  “Only them in no position to be judging.”

  Rob shrugged. “None of us are in a position to judge anyone unkindly.”

  “I’ll not put that to the test, thank you.”

  “Good,” John said with a broad grin. “Because then what would Much and I do for amusement?”

  He slung his arm around my neck, and I pulled away. “Wait, do you smell that?”

  John lifted his shirt to his nose and sniffed it, but I took a deep breath.

  “Smoke,” Rob said.

  “Something’s on fire,” I agreed.

  I set off running and the boys followed, heading up the crest to higher land toward Major Oak. When we breached the ridge, we could see it, even from far away. Smoke were starting to curl through the trees, blurring out the orange tongues that were lapping up our hideout.

  They set Major Oak on fire.

  We stood frozen to the spot, and it were then that arms came around my back. “We’ve been waiting for you lot,” a voice growled in my ear.

  I didn’t hesitate. I slammed my foot down hard on his foot and drew my knives, twisting behind me to wedge them both in his stomach. “If you’re going to hold a thief, you might want to try the arms,” I snapped, pushing him off me. I felt hot blood on my hands and saw him fall down the ridge, sliding into a pile of leaves. He were dead, I reckoned, and it turned my blood to ice.

  “Gisbourne!” one cried, hollering loud as possible. Gisbourne were close, then, hunting for us in the forest. I turned to see three men on Rob, and I felt the sting of insult. Honestly, I were just as much a threat as him. Why did I only get one?

  One grabbed Rob round the neck while the other two came at him, and I skittered into action. I slid to my knees and cut the hee
l on one of Rob’s attackers. He fell to his knees, howling. Rob had his sword out, his bow strapped ’cross his chest, and he pushed off the two men, fighting them back.

  I looked to John, who were getting punched in the face, but Much took my attention. Someone punched him down and got out a knife, the blade wicked and long and closer to his chest than I were fair happy with.

  “John, duck!” I called. He took a punch and obeyed me, ducking down long enough for me to step on his back. He started to stand as I launched off, and I flipped in the air to bring my feet down hard on Much’s attacker. I threw him to the side, and his blade grazed my leg but I weren’t bothered. His head hit the ground hard, and I didn’t ’spect him to get up anytime soon. I held my hand out to Much, and he pulled himself up.

  “Scar!” he said, pointing behind me.

  “Hold on,” I told him, holding his good arm tight and turning us both around. I gripped his arm and jumped, kicking the guard’s chest and snapping my foot across his face. Much held on and pulled me back so I didn’t fall as the guard dropped.

  I let go of Much and went back to Robin, charging into a guard from behind and pushing him to the ground. He were quick and threw me off his back, scrabbling on top of me before I could get up. I kicked sharp between his legs, but my knee met with some kind of armored codpiece.

  He chuckled, and a thread of panic shot through my body. One of his hands pinned my arm back and the other pressed my chest to the ground. My fingers searched out a knife on my hip as his hand on my chest moved around too much for my liking.

  His eyes narrowed as he pinched my bits. I caught a knife with my free hand and hit the hilt into the side of his head where the helmet didn’t cover.

  He fell deadweight on top of me, and I shook a little as I tried to push him off. Rob threw him off and John caught my hand, pulling me up against him. He caught my waist, keeping me there. “You all right, Scar?”