by Edale Lane
"But disguising yourself as a highwayman did?" Marian wondered aloud.
"It seemed to be the most expedient course of action. But now I have reached a turning point," she said in all sincerity, fixing her gaze onto Marian's eyes of passionate blue. "Either I fully embrace my new role, or I keep on running."
"What are you saying?" Marian tilted her head to one side and gazed back at her.
"I joined a band of outlaws in Sherwood Forest and I can make a go of it with them; however, they think I am a boy. Then yesterday other people arrived, those who have been treated unfairly by the Sheriff, who were tortured, and starved, and stolen from by him since he took over Loxley." There was smoldering heat in her voice–not the kind she wanted to share with Marian, but the kind that seethed with hatred toward the Sheriff. "I must take care of them," she stated with determination. "I must redeem my failure in running away and protect them now. But I need your help."
"Absolutely," Marian vowed, "anything you need."
Robyn took a step closer, into Marian's personal space, a space she had always been freely allowed to enter. "I want you to cut my hair, like a boy's. If I am to make this work, I must commit entirely to my new persona, Robin Hood. And I can't be wearing that bloody hood twenty-four hours a day." She drew her long, brown braid from her back over one shoulder where it dangled down to her waist. She couldn't help but gaze longingly at it. As much as she knew this was the right course—the only course—to take, she couldn't wholly shake the idea of it being further punishment. But she had to set those thoughts aside.
Marian had no such lead in to Robyn's decision to purposefully cut her hair. Her eyes popped wide as she looked at Robyn. "Not your beautiful hair! Are you sure cutting your hair alone will be enough to convince people?"
Her words did give Robyn pause, however. She lowered her head as she pondered. "I have thick brows, a strong chin, am tall and slender hipped, and they already think I'm a boy. Verily, people tend see what they expect to see."
"I suppose you are right," Marian consented and reached one hand to stroke the long, acorn brown braid. Her hand traveled the length from just below Robyn's chin past her shoulder, knuckles brushing over her bound breasts. Robyn felt a sudden tingle, a tightness, a longing. Then Marian said, "If this is what truly you want, I will do it. Come, sit here at the dressing table."
Dawn's radiance streamed through the window, casting the room in strong contrasts of light and shadow. Robyn took the seat while Marian withdrew a pair of shears from a drawer in the dressing table. "There's no going back from this," she warned. "It would take ten years for your hair to reach this length again."
"I'll be lucky to live ten years," Robyn replied with a resigned sigh. "I'll never have my life back. Everything that I've ever known was swept away in an instant. The question now is how to proceed. This is the best scheme I could devise."
Marian untied the leather cord at the base of Robyn's braid and wove her fingers through her hair loosening it. "And the second favor?"
"I need to feed the poor, the homeless, the refugees, those that have come to us for help. I confess that I do not know how to accomplish that," Robyn admitted. "If I still had my lands and family resources, then it would be no problem; as it stands, I am as penniless as they are."
With the braid loosed, Marian combed her fingers through Robyn's hair. For Robyn, it was an immensely pleasing sensation that drew away every bit of tension and apprehension leaving only calm serenity. Robyn relaxed her shoulders and leaned her head placidly into Marian's hands.
For a moment it was as if there was no one else in the world–no war, no sheriff, no loss. Just Robyn and Marian and whatever was between them. In that instant, Robyn reasoned she could let it all go. If she and Marian ran away together and left everything behind, that would be fine by her. For just a twinkling, her world became everything she had hoped for.
"I can give you some money to buy food for them," Marian offered as she continued to massage her fingers through Robyn's silky strands, "but it would only be a temporary remedy." And there was reality smashing the dream. Robyn had stopped running; she'd determined to take a stand and do right by her people.
"Your charity is greatly appreciated, but I need your ideas," Robyn said, snapping back to the moment as Marian reached for the shears. "You always came up with the best schemes, the grandest pranks, and each one a greater success than the last."
Memories brought a smile to Marian that touched her eyes. "Yes, but you were the one bold enough to carry them all out."
"Only because I had faith that your plans would succeed and succeed they did."
"Remember the time you poured ink in the town bully's ale? It turned his teeth black for a month!" Marian bubbled over with laughter.
Robyn joined her lightness of spirit. "And the best part is he never learned who did it."
"Well, you shall have my donation," Marian confirmed. "Come to think of it, I know quite a few nobles and merchants in these parts with deep pockets who could easily contribute to the cause. Why, they could feed your refugees for months and not even miss the coin."
A look of dismay returned to Robyn's face. "Like I'll convince any of them to be charitable?"
"Well." Robyn recognized the tone of Marian's voice at once; it meant she had a devilishly clever plan in mind. Brightness gleamed in Marian's intelligent eyes and a grin tugged at the bow of her lips. The shears went about their cutting and a woman's crown of glory fell unceremoniously to the floor. "Your band of outlaws, some swords, and some bows may convince them to part with their purses."
And then the spark passed from Marian to Robyn. "Are you suggesting that we rob the rich to feed the poor?" She couldn't quite help the grin on her face as she said the words.
"It's not like they will miss any meals, and I'm sure you can make better use of their excess blunt than they could. But you had better hurry," she added seriously, snipping the last bits of Robyn's hair. "Prince John is traveling about, raising more taxes. Queen Eleanor has raised two-thirds of the ransom from her holdings on the continent, but without the remaining portion she cannot secure the King's release. So you will need to hit them before the tax man does."
"And Sir Guy?" Robyn asked, narrowing her brow. She raised her chin bringing her eyes to catch Marian's.
"Sir Guy has recently lost his wife and is in search for a replacement. He seems to believe that I will suffice, but I assure you I have no intentions of accepting a marriage proposal from him, or anyone for that matter, until my father returns home."
Robyn let out a sigh of relief, joy beaming in her eyes and her soul at the certainty she was right, that there was nothing to this rumor about Sir Guy.
Then Marian took her by the hand and led her to a large looking glass. She stood beside her, showing off the results of the haircut. Robyn was rightly impressed. "I even look like a boy to me!"
Marian laid her head on Robyn's shoulder reaching one arm around her waist gazing at their reflections. As Robyn peered into the mirror, she thought of what a lovely couple they made and how, if things were different, they could be together. She realized she yearned for that more than ever in her life, even as she inwardly quivered. Then Marian continued.
"But I must consider marriage. After all, I will turn twenty in December. Most maids of our age are already wed. People are already saying, 'Marian thinks she is too good for anyone, how vain she is, and no man meets her expectations'."
"Bollocks," Robyn uttered darkly, and like a mist, her dream disappeared. "With the likes of Giffard and Gisborne to choose from, a nunnery sounds like a fine idea."
"I doubt either of us would survive in a nunnery," she said as she continued to linger at Robyn's side staring at the two of them in the looking glass. "We both love our freedom too much for that. And what of you? You turned twenty-two in May."
She remembered my birthday, Robyn thought and smiled a little despite herself. "I think I have just laid that question to rest," she replied as she scrutin
ized the face, hair and dress of a pageboy in the mirror.
"I wish I had options," said Marian gravely and lowered her chin casting her eyes to the floor.
Of course she has options, thought Robyn. She can do whatever she wants. Then, without letting her brain have time to register the words, she blurted out in a playful manner, "Well, you can always come live in the forest with me and the outlaws." She meant it to sound like a joke, but in her heart she longed for nothing more.
"Oh, Robyn." Marian let out a disappointed sigh. Her hands dropped to her side, and she stepped away, glancing around her room as she spoke. It was completely light by then. "I have responsibilities. I have my family and my station to consider." Marian avoided eye contact as she spoke.
Robyn turned from the looking glass, her head lowered in regret at her own lost family. In that instant, Marian turned to Robyn, stepped close, and reached a hand to caress her cheek. Gently, she guided Robyn's chin so that their eyes met.
"I am so sorry," she began with heartfelt tenderness. "I didn't think, I didn't mean…"
"Do not fret," Robyn replied. "I know what you meant." She lifted a hand up to stroke Marian's where it rested on her cheek. "Anyway, I am getting used to being alone now. Naturally you have obligations to your family. They expect to arrange a fine marriage for you with a young man from a noble house."
"No, Robyn," Marian corrected her. She interlaced her fingers with Robyn's, which were already becoming rough from manual labor. Then she peered through Robyn's eyes straight into her soul and stated with absolute authority, "You are not alone; you are never alone. You will always have me." Marian stretched up and kissed her cheek.
A moment passed between them, and Robyn wondered if Marian felt what she felt–the energy, the passion. The room was so silent Robyn could hear the pulsing of both their hearts. But before another word could pass between them, there came a frantic knock pounding at the door.
Buy Heart of Sherwood today to discover what happens next!
About the Author
Edale Lane is the author of an award winning 2019 debut novel, Heart of Sherwood. She is the alter-ego of author Melodie Romeo, (Vlad a Novel, Terror in Time, and others) who founded Past and Prologue Press. Both identities are qualified to write historical fiction by virtue of an MA in History and 24 years spent as a teacher, along with skill and dedication in regard to research. She is a successful author who also currently drives a tractor-trailer across the United States. A native of Vicksburg, MS, Edale (or Melodie as the case may be) is also a musician who loves animals, gardening, and nature. Please visit her website at: https://pastandprologuepress.lpages.co/
