My brother might not be terribly happy about our new companion but he recognised a being who suffered pain we couldn’t see and his heart reacted with kindness. I wrapped my lyre in oil cloth and the box I’d fashioned for her before returning it to the driest place in the cave, near our bedding. Next I checked on the horses and Tuck settled the fire for the night. I saw Robin had decided to sleep away from the comfort of the warmest part of the cave and that he’d turned his back on us. When I snuggled down into my bed, the waft of lavender comforting, I stared at the shadows dancing on the rough roof of the cave and wondered how different the day could have been if Robin hadn’t found us.
THE FOLLOWING MORNING WE settled into easy tasks, resurrecting the fire, finding somewhere new to feed the horses for the day on long tethers, and preparing a simple meal taken from the saddlebags of the men we’d killed. Once done, we gathered around the fire to discuss the day’s plans.
“We take the money and return it to Edwinstowe,” Tuck said. “Then your Christian duty is done and you can leave.” He stared hard at Robin.
Robin didn’t answer my brother, and instead he looked at me. “Help me tack the horses, there is little point in walking when we can ride.”
I nodded and left Tuck in the cave. “You don’t have to leave,” I said, carrying the tack of one horse.
Robin glanced over his shoulder at me, carrying the tack for two horses. “I know but it’s for the best. I didn’t plan on staying long in the area. I was going to check a few things but I’ve decided those things are not important enough to worry about. It seems too complicated to bother with.”
A strange statement but the thought of him leaving brought a small ache to my chest. “It must have been important for you to travel here in the first place.”
“Not important enough to continue to upset your brother.”
“I’ll be going into Nottingham in a day or two for more information about tax collections, we could ride together perhaps. I’ll be meeting with a friend who helps gather the information.”
“You have a spy in the High Sheriff’s court?” he asked. His eyes sharpened on me.
“I have,” I said.
“Who?”
“That’s not something I’m going to share with a man who can’t willingly give me a name or birth town.” I grabbed the nearest horse by her halter and dragged her away from the grass.
“Gedling,” Robin said. “I was born in Gedling.”
I paused and watched him for a moment. “I’m still not telling you, it would put their life at risk even more than it is already, but for what it’s worth – I don’t believe you. Gedling is tiny and certainly couldn’t produce a man capable of being a Crusader.”
“I never said I was a Crusader.”
“True, but you aren’t a farmer, blacksmith or merchant. You move like a predator, you know how to kill. You carry pepper and despite the worn appearance of your clothing they were once finely made. You might not carry a sword but you know how to use one and your accent isn’t local, even if you do speak the true language of England. I bet you speak the Norman tongue just as easily.”
Robin’s mouth twitched in a smile. “You’re observant and you think too much.”
“Yes, on both counts,” I said.
“You say all this and still want me to remain in your camp?” he asked.
“I’m not against keeping secrets,” I told him, dragging the reluctant mare behind me. “I’m against lies and even if you were born in Gedling, you weren’t raised there.”
“Where were you born, Will?” he asked.
“My family come from Ruddington, our father is, or was, a merchant in cloth – hence my name, Will Scarlett. My brother was a part of the Rufford Abbey, but the Cistercian rule did not suit him so he now thinks of himself as a Franciscan Friar. Though to be honest I’m not sure what that really means. I’m just glad he’s out of the Abbey.”
“Ruddington?” Robin repeated.
“Yes, you know it?” I asked, glancing at him over the withers of the horse.
Robin dropped his gaze and nodded. “I’ve heard of it.”
“So, you know of Ruddington and know the area well enough to name a small place called Gedling, so I’m thinking you come from Nottingham and its surrounds,” I said.
Robin scowled and turned his back to deal with cleaning and tacking the second horse. I couldn’t help but smile to myself, he’d underestimated me as most did. Tuck appeared soon after our abrupt silence and in short order we had all the horses ready and were leading them back to the road by way of Robin’s trail from the day before.
The village of Edwinstowe stood in the heathland of Sherwood and rose among the farmed land like a muddy series of reed covered mushrooms. Smoke filtered through the roofs and children came out to stand in silent observance as we rode into the village, their eyes too large and their bellies too thin. Tuck slid off his horse and they gravitated towards him, the brown of his monk’s habit making him safe. Robin and I were eyed with suspicion by the gradual influx of adults to the centre of the village.
We dismounted with care and I kept my hand away from the hilt of the sword I carried. Robin kept his hood up, and I thought it was to hide his identity, but realised it might have more to do with the scar he sported.
“Will Scarlett?” came a round voice from behind me.
I turned and grinned. “Farmer Swane.” I held out my hand and we greeted each other warmly. Shorter than me, he would always be rounder despite his hunger.
“What brings you and your mad monk to these parts?” he asked.
“A small gift from the High Sheriff’s men,” I said. “Tuck, you have the coin?”
Tuck reached into the purse hanging from his belt and held it out as he joined us. “This is some of what they took from you and the others in your part of the wapentake,” Tuck said, using the local word for hundred. These families rarely left the heathland.
I took the purse, counted the eight houses in the village and returned to them ten gold coins and a handful of copper. “You’ll need to spend these carefully. I know they took your goats and doubtless your geese and pigs but if you go to the larger towns westward you should be safe to spend it buying more.”
Swane looked to me and Tuck, then his eyes settled on Robin who stood behind me, a silent monolith among these stout folk. “You’ll swing for this, Will Scarlett.”
“Life is very short, my friend. With or without the threat of the noose and if you had to sit through as many of my brother’s sermons as I have, you’d see the point of doing what you’re told.”
He smiled and removed his felt hat, running his fingers through a tangle of greying hair. “Well, thank you, both. Will you stay and have a drink with us? We have some mead.”
“Mead sounds good,” I said.
“No,” Tuck decided for me. “We have other places we need to be but I can hear confession if any need me to listen.”
“That’ll take long enough for me to enjoy a cup of mead,” I pointed out to Tuck. “Robin?” I looked at him.
“Mead sounds good,” he said.
Tuck huffed and the small children, more mud than skin, dragged him to the small wooden chapel the people of the village built when they discovered Tuck would be in the area for a while to tend to his flock. Robin and I followed Swane to the wattle and daub tithe barn. I entered it hoping to see the summer’s bounty filling it but instead there were precious few sacks of grain stacked in the corner and other foodstuffs meant for the community.
“We join together to share equally these days,” he said. “If one family finds they have more eggs than their neighbour, we share. It’s the only way we’ll survive the High Sheriff and his demands. Sometimes I think we pay for the king’s wars all on our own.” A resigned misery but no anger, made him seem to shrink in upon himself.
I reached out and squeezed his shoulder with gentle commiseration. “You aren’t alone, Swane and one day we’ll make them pay for plundering us.”
He patted my hand and approached a table with a large wooden barrel sat on it. “The one thing we aren’t short of here is honey,” he said with a smile. Robin and I took a wooden cup and drank the bittersweet alcohol, mead could be an unpredictable tipple but one I enjoyed rather too much.
“Who is your new friend?” Swane asked, looking at Robin.
“A man of mystery,” I said. “Don’t worry, he’s working off a penance for Tuck, he won’t be staying long and he doesn’t talk much.” I poked him with my elbow hoping for a sentence, but he hadn’t so much as lowered his bloody hood yet.
Swane’s eyes narrowed. “That’s alright, young Will, I think I can live without knowing the man inside the hood.”
“Good,” Robin growled in his best rusty monosyllabic voice.
I glared at him but he wandered off outside the barn which was good as I needed to exchange information with Swane. “How are things here?” I asked.
“It’s going to be a long and bitter winter, Will, I can’t pretend otherwise but the coin will help. I’ve started clearing some land inside the forest so we can farm without the sheriff’s men finding our new stock. I’m hoping it’ll be enough.”
“They have trackers among the soldiers it’ll be hard work to hide the paths you’ll be making.”
“It’s the best I can do for the people here,” he said. “How are things in Nottingham?”
“Not much better than out here, just more people,” I said.
He grunted. “I wish my sons could leave the land to go to the city, they might stand a chance but we dare not send them off the farm in case the sheriff knows.”
“At least they can keep providing for the community,” I said. “And who knows, things might change.”
“Not with the Lionheart dead,” he said, gazing into the distance and wishing for a past I didn’t remember.
His bleak words burdened my already heavy heart. I wished I could give these people hope but they were tied to the land in a way I never would be, I came from the merchant class, a yeoman, free to move around and find work as I wished, but Swane and his kind were bonded to their land. The bond gave them full bellies when times were good but watched them starve in bad. The villeins were the lowest of the lowliest and despite the supposed protection offered by their superiors they were often left to starve in hard times.
We swapped news and I waited for Tuck to return. Confession in a place like this never took long and we were soon on our way to the next village he wanted to help. The same story followed us from community to community and we dished out the coin as fairly as possible. Robin remained quiet and watchful, and although I didn’t see much of his face all day, I felt his eyes track our movements, his ears listen to our words and his mind storing it all. By the end of the day we were a long way from the cave and so we chose to remain with the last community we reached. A small place of three families in five small hovels who hunted beaver in the local river network and farmed small pigs in the forest. I entertained the families with ancient stories of battle in far off lands before singing a hymn to give them something Godly with which to go to their beds.
“You’re a good man, Will Scarlett,” Robin said, pushing his hood back now we were alone.
“Tuck’s the good man,” I said, nodding to the dark shape of my brother down by the river’s edge.
“He has to be good for his peace of mind, the man has demons who torment him, but with you it’s different. You have a big heart and light in your soul that shines every time you speak with someone,” Robin said. “I’ve met many types of people in my life and your gift is by far the rarest.”
“I’m just a minstrel,” I said with a shrug, feeling the heat of pride creeping up my cheeks.
“It is your talent which spreads the light,” Robin said, settling down in his bedroll.
I didn’t know what to say in return so I curled up in my blankets and wished I had a larger body behind mine to keep me warm.
4
IT TOOK ME A long time to drift into sleep, my head whirling with plans and thoughts from all the conversations I’d had with the people of Sherwood Forest. I wanted to help them. I wanted to give Tuck the knowledge that he had made a difference to their lives, that not being cloistered behind walls helped set him free and that maybe his God would become more human and less divine.
When I finally found the peace I needed to sleep, a heavy grunt woke me. The grunt turned into a cry and I realised it wasn’t Tuck, but Robin. A small whimper and shout had me sliding out from my blankets and crab walking around the fire to his side. He’d thrown his bedding off and his head twisted in obvious pain, his body locked rigid, jaw tight and small sounds of grief were being squeezed out. His hands were flexing in his woollen coat.
“Robin?” I called, unsure about touching him. “Wake up, it’s alright, you’re safe.”
The sounds continued and I glanced at Tuck but he remained blissfully asleep. Robin shouted again and I reached out, brushing a curl from his brow. “Robin, please wake up.”
I couldn’t drag him from the nightmare so I grabbed his shoulder and squeezed hard. “Robin, wake up now,” I hissed in his ear.
His body bucked hard and instinct made him push me away and hold me so we rolled back away from the fire and his weight settled over my chest and hips. A rough and large hand wrapped around my throat and tightened.
“Robin, it’s me,” I squeaked as the strong, rough fingers dug in and my hands were occupied in trying to pull his wrist off my throat.
He took a deep breath. “Will?” The light of the embers and moon caught his eyes for a moment and I watched awareness drift through them. His fingers relaxed and I breathed.
“Sorry, you were dreaming,” I said, unable to move very far and unable to make him move.
“Will,” he murmured. The hand around my throat moved and tangled into my hair, his fingers rubbing a lock. A small smile flitted over his face but he didn’t look at me, just the place his fingers rested. “I knew it would be soft, coal black and soft.” He continued his exploration and traced the right side of my brow and my cheekbone. I held very still and a spike of nervous anticipation made my guts tighten and my long neglected cock throb. “You are beautiful,” he murmured.
I couldn’t move, I couldn’t think, I felt tears press against my eyes as the war inside me began. I needed him, the weight and heat perfect, but the fear of him also rose from the darkest places in my memory. “Get off,” I whispered.
He frowned and licked his full lips, which sent me over the edge of rational thought. “Get the fuck off me!” I barked and I pushed hard into his massive chest. I wriggled out from under his passive body and scrambled upright, poised to run.
Robin levered himself off the ground but remained kneeling. “I’m sorry if I scared you, Will. I didn’t mean to, I have nightmares. I should have warned you or slept away from the fire. I…”
My breath came in short bursts and I swiped at a stray tear. “It’s fine. Let’s just get some sleep.”
“I’ll move,” he offered in a quiet rumble.
“You don’t have to do that. I overreacted. I’m not very good with being pinned down,” I muttered.
“Sorry,” he said again, now refusing to meet my gaze. Shame burned through me and I had the need to give him some kind of explanation.
“I learned early that being thought of as beautiful has its downsides for a man – or rather a boy. Neither Tuck nor myself are good at being manhandled. Just a gentle warning. I work hard at not letting it change me but…” I ran out of words but not emotions.
“You don’t owe me an explanation.” Robin sounded so bloody calm. “It’s not as if I’ve given you one for my dreams.”
I felt like a fool. I’d revealed far too much about myself and Tuck. “Fine.”
“Will, I am sorry for your pain and I cannot pretend to understand but know this – I will never hurt you, never, I need you to believe that.” The rumble of his voice wrapped me up and dre
w me towards the fire. I managed to settle down on my blankets but the tension running through my blood wasn’t going to allow me to return to sleep.
Robin also sat up and poked the fire into reluctant life. “I was a small cog in the machine of the Crusades,” he said, glancing at Tuck to make certain my brother remained asleep. “It broke me, being there, seeing it… What happened at Acre – other places… I knew men could do evil things to each other, but the death and misery I witnessed have darkened me forever. There is no redemption in a place like that for men like me. Those that go to pay penance for crimes against their God’s laws don’t change just because they are in a foreign land, they simply find a reason to commit more crimes. I found a measure of peace for a short time but it was stolen from me and I learned the real meaning of hate and saw the Devil in men’s eyes. I have yet to see God in the same way.”
The silence was complete except for the crackle of the fire, the river’s shush along its path nearby and the breeze tickling leaves off the autumnal trees.
“I am sorry you have endured such horrors,” I said into the quiet.
Robin drew in his breath. “It sounds like you have your demons as well. I am truly sorry I scared you, that wasn’t my intention.”
“I should have been more careful waking you, it’s my fault not yours,” I said. “Maybe we should try to get some more rest. It’s a long ride tomorrow and you’re leaving us.” The thought of him disappearing from my life hurt a surprising amount.
“I am,” he said almost too quietly for me to hear. He lay down, facing the fire but did not pull his blankets over his shoulder. He just lay there. I lay down and chose to stare at the stars, the cold sufficient enough to have me covering my body, but sleep eluded me as I tried to push memories back into boxes and not think about the strange man staring at the fire.
BY THE TIME DAWN came I had a foul headache and my eyes had been washed in cow dung. I ached all over and my mood left me snarling at Tuck as Robin washed in the river.
“What happened to you last night?” Tuck asked after I bit his head off again.
Men of Sherwood (A Rogue's Tale Book 1) Page 3
