Lady Thief

by Wend Petzler

  Allen came out of the shadows after Louie left. “Come on, Allen. We've got a long walk ahead of us,” Eiry reminded him, slipping past the barrier made from bushes and tree limbs, hiding the seven foot opening to the Devil's Arse.

  Down a steep incline, they followed the boy with the torch along a narrow path leading deep in the very bowels of the Devil's Arse. The enormous cave got its name from the way it went far below the surface of the earth, branching out in a series of caves linking one way or another. It never ceased to amaze her how big the cave actually was. When they entered the main cave, she realized with a shock how many more had come seeking shelter from the Sheriff. Stick huts were built here and there, giving the outlaws privacy. Several fires burning peat moss were smoldering with pots of stew hanging over spits. A tall man of burly stature hailed them—Tom the Blacksmith.

  "Eiry, are you sure you wish to go through with it? This plan of yours has gots the bullocks of all nerve, if we are able to pull it off!” Tom was obviously worried. “Hiding a mile of Peveril Castle where Lord Robert resides is something altogether gutsy. Stealing from the very man's own house is quite another."

  "Lord Robert will never expect it, that's why it'll work.” Eiry grinned, heedless of the danger, and both men's face crumpled briefly, knowing the look all too well. “Is everyone ready?” she asked, making her way to the passageway leading toward Peveril Castle.

  A boy's voice popped up from behind her, “They are ready and willing to tweak the sheriff's nose.” The lad was about thirteen and had the look of one about to embark on a great adventure.

  Smiling at the enthusiasm on the youth's face, Eiry checked the security of the daggers in her belt and in the lining of her boots. Adjusting her quiver along her back, she slipped her strung bow over her shoulder. She bowed with great flourish to about twenty gathered men and women. “Shall we go shopping?"

  The crowd laughed at her words, knowing if they were successful they'd be dining on a great feast later. Several torches were lit against the black ink of the tunnel. A false rock door was removed to allow the group to pass through the narrow opening. All were saying a silent prayer at not getting caught. Eiry had her own fears as they trudged along the passageway in single file. One major worry was the real possibility of getting caught below Peveril Castle by the sheriff's men and hung for stealing, or worse, held prisoner without a trial.

  The walk went without mishap. Nervous, she met up with Tom and Allen as they wrestled with another false wall placed by the outlaws to fool the residents of the castle into thinking there weren't another set of caves.

  Peering into the dimly lit cave, the temperature was chilling to the bone and dampness made her face numb. Shivering, she was surprised by the odd sight of several dugout pits with fires burning low in the shallow centers. An oily substance burned harshly, making their eyes water and noses itch from the smoky interior. Soft, anguished cries were heard in the dark recess.

  Who could be up this late at night?

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  Chapter Eight

  Eiry slipped off her bow and notched an arrow as did many of her companions. Others drew crude swords, all seemingly unnerved by the eerie whimpers in the dark shadows. Eiry motioned Allen to check out the faint outline of the stairs, seeing where they led. Heart thundering in her chest, she searched the gloom for the girl whimpering with such torment. Tom grabbed a pitch soaked torch and lit it by way of a nearby fire, holding it out in front of her. What they saw sent their stomachs lurching.

  Instinctively covering her eyes from the bright flames, the thin, emaciated girl struggled to cover her half-naked body with the tattered remnants of her gown. That was not what made them ill, it was that she bore assorted scars and burns all over her pale skin, some fresh, others old and crusted over.

  Stunned, Eiry looked into the wild, terrified eyes of her mother's maid! Lowering the notched arrow, she handed her bow over to Tom, crouching toward the sobbing girl who was trying to curl away from her. “Shhh, it's me—Eiry. Alice? Is it really you?” she whispered to the whining girl who silenced, peering closer at her.

  "Lady Eiry?” Her voice was rusty, as if she had talked little in the past days and months since she went missing.

  Sitting down hard on the rocky ground, Eiry stared at the once lovely girl. Alice was with Lady Rowena the night they were attacked. She had assumed the girl had fled in terror, returning to her family in London.

  "Alice, what happened?” Alice flinched when Tom handed Eiry a gourd containing water. Taking it, Eiry held it out to the traumatized girl who nervously glanced at Tom and back at it, grabbing it finally. Guzzling the water down, Alice started choking when her parched throat failed to swallow the liquid fast enough. The group of outlaws looked about nervously as Eiry gently patted the gasping girl on the back to help her.

  Desperate tears fell down the girl's marred features. She threw herself into Eiry's arms. Unprepared, Eiry barely caught the frightened girl.

  "Oh, Lady Eiry, it was horrible! Please, take me away from here,” Alice pleaded, desperate to get away.

  "We will, I promise. But first, how is it you are here?"

  Trembling, Alice stared vacantly at Eiry. “I was thrown from the wagon. Lady Rowena was badly hurt, and Sir Thomas was comforting her when the knights rode back into view after they ran us down. Sir Thomas got to his feet and rushed them with his sword drawn when I saw a cloaked man with a bow shoot him down. I didn't see his face, only the faint color of his hair."

  Fear grabbed hold of Eiry violently. “What color was it?” she demanded hoarsely.

  Wide eyes of blue met hers, Alice whispered softly, “It was red, my lady."

  Feeling as if she was punched in the stomach, Eiry sat down hard again. Looking at the men and women accompanying her, several had red hair, none acted nervous or frightened at being singled out. Taking a moment to gather her wits, she signaled for several of the women to care for the injured girl. “Take her back to the cave and make sure she is well cared for. Alice has endured enough. The rest of you, we have a job to do."

  Cold rage welled inside her. Thinking of the several red-haired men riding with Louie, could one of them be the traitor? Focusing on the job needing to be done, her questions had to wait. When she turned around, she saw Allen who looked clearly shaken. Why did Allen look as if he had seen a ghost when Alice mentioned red hair when his own was dark?

  Getting down to business, she examined the chamber. Barrels of ale and wine were lined against the cave's walls. Slabs of cut meat were hung from the low cross beams as large sacks filled with flour and sugar rested by the far wall.

  "Start loading up what is down here and take it back. I want to go upstairs and check it out."

  Before Allen could ask why, she got up and slung the bow around her shoulder. “Let's go,” she ordered softly.

  Tom went up the stairs first with his sword ready. He opened the door, peering into the dark chamber for any signs of people around at the late hour. Motioning them to follow, it took a moment for their eyes to adjust to the inky black, having left the torches behind with the others. The door was not far from the kitchens where the servants had to go below and retrieve what was needed. This angered Eiry even more. It meant those who worked in the kitchens knew of Alice and did nothing to aid her dire situation.

  Allen tapped her on the shoulder and whispered, “Where are the servants?"

  She frowned, wondering the same. “Perhaps Robert doesn't allow his staff to remain in the castle after dinner? Keep vigil, in case it's a trap."

  Silently moving around the large kitchen, they grew amazed by the vast preparations for the great feast readied for Prince John when he arrived tomorrow. Eiry motioned for the desserts and fruits be gathered up and taken below. Nothing was going to be left for the bastards to celebrate with! Fury made her vengeful at what Lord Robert had done to Alice. Allen and Tom helped load the fruit and breads into burlap sacks while the others grabbed silver platters of cak
es, pies, cookies, and many other sweet delights. While her men looted the kitchens, Eiry peered through the cracked opening of the doorway, making sure all was clear in the great hall.

  Curiosity got the better of her. Eiry touched Allen on the shoulder. “I want to explore Robert's study. Mayhap I can find out more of what's happening in Derbyshire. If something goes wrong, seal up the door and run!” She abandoned the kitchen and crept out into the great hall seeing clearly, the way lit by a hot fire crackling brightly in the massive fireplace. It dawned on her there were no sleeping servants in the hall either. Where were they?

  Looking outside the wide paned windows, she smiled at the red blaze glowing in Derbyshire below. When a scrape of a slipper alerted her, she ducked into a dark alcove. A faint glow of a candle came around the corner, lighting the way for whoever carried it. Holding her breath, the dark shadowed man passed her by. Eiry drew a long dagger from her belt and peeked around the corner.

  Lord Robert!

  When he was a safe distance away from her, she discreetly followed. Dressed in a red satin robe, the long train sweeping behind him, he briskly walked toward what appeared to be a library. Keeping to the shadows, she gasped softly when the front door slammed open, admitting William De Brasco, captain of the mercenaries hired to protect the Shire. Hiding, she watched him storm past her, searching for Robert.

  She shivered in repulsion at the enormous brute, his brown eyes small and beady, looking feral in the flickering light of the fire burning brightly in the chamber. Sadistic and cruel, he incurred fear and submission by the use of brute force and his meaty fists.

  Cursing, William shouted, “The damned thieves set fire to the jail! I swear I'll kill every one of those bastards.” William sloshed wine into a gold goblet, drinking the entire contents in a single gulp.

  "Wonderful. Prince John will be here on the morrow, and he wants a full report about these bold thieves—and why we haven't a single one in custody."

  "It's useless to go after the outlaws in the dark. The rain will cover their tracks. In the morning, I'll send my men out and start shaking up the peasants. Mayhap one of them will spill their guts on where Lady Thief's lair is located."

  Waving an impatient hand, Robert dismissed the idea. “Try all you want, still they won't betray her if we use force. It only strengthens their resolve to defy us. Instead, raise the bounty on her head to a thousand gold pieces. Let us use greed to our advantage."

  "What about Martine? How are we going to handle him?"

  "When I notified Prince John of the failed ambush upon Martine, he has decided he wants to woo the bastard to join our cause. John feels if he has the Butcher as his champion, the barons will flock to his side of the Crown, rather than be against him."

  "What if Martine does not wish to be part of our plans in obtaining the throne of England? What then?” William asked.

  "If Martine does not join with us, he will be taken care of, just like Sir Thomas was. We will not tolerate any interference in our bid to take the throne from Richard,” Robert snapped back in reply.

  BOOM!

  Racing to the window, they saw another huge explosion, igniting the storehouses into a fiery inferno. “They've torched the oil barrels! Hurry before the entire town burns to the ground,” Robert shouted and ran out of the study with William close behind.

  Eiry knew a rage beyond anything she had ever known. Everything inside her demanded she draw her arrows and cut down the coldhearted bastard who condemned her family to death so easily as if ordering another cup of wine. Forcing herself to withdraw, she hurried back to the kitchens, motioning for Allen and Tom to get their men out of the castle. Closing the door, she brought up the rear as the procession of food was being carted off. She was going to kill Lord Robert. First, he'd suffer complete humiliation in front of Prince John before she was finished with him. Tomorrow, a delightful dish of shame would be served when she robbed the Prince in broad daylight!

  The false wall was carefully put back in place. They trudged down the passageway, carrying their heavy load while making sure to remain quiet until they reached the main cavern. A welcoming party greeted them when they neared the encampment. She hung back from the celebrations, mulling over the conversation she'd overheard.

  Allen approached her. “What's wrong?” he asked quietly as they watched Louie and the rest of their band enter the cave, laughing at the unbelievable amount of food stolen from the larders of Robert De Ferrers.

  "Prince John is coming tomorrow. I believe he needs to be relieved of his heavy baggage.” She watched Louie's expression when he saw Alice sitting beside several women, covered with a blanket and was slowly eating a bowl of broth. When he realized Eiry stared at him, he quickly hid his surprise and dismay, turning instead to speak with Tom.

  Anguish slammed her. Could it be Louie?

  "What time do you wish to ride out and set the trap?” Allen asked, unaware of her inner turmoil.

  "Let us meet up at the orchard before dawn. What I tell you must remain between us. We'll make the attack at the oak trees marking the border of Sherwood Forest and the Peake. Speak to no one of the location. If we have a traitor in our midst it will surely flush him out.” Eiry knew if she were to catch a traitor, she'd use deception like the culprit had.

  "You think Louie is playing us, don't you? Watch yer back,” Allen warned, leaving her when Louie headed over to them.

  Surprised Allen felt Louie might be guilty, she hid it well when he approached.

  "Well, it appears you were successful. Where did you find Alice? Wasn't she supposed to have fled months ago?"

  "We found her below Peveril Castle. I want to stage an ambush upon Prince John near Castleton along the King's Highway.” She studied the way Louie looked at her in surprise. “Can we get organized for a raid of this size in so little time?” Eiry asked, unable to help smiling as the children's eyes bulged at the immense amount of rare sweets ready for their consumption.

  Appearing to ponder the request, he answered, “What time do you wish to be in place?"

  "At dawn. We shall prepare a welcoming party just after mid-afternoon, maybe later, depending how close he is to Castleton,” she lied, planning to attack Prince John's entourage not long after he broke camp. If Louie betrayed her, she'd have her answer in the morning.

  Unable to resist asking, his voice sarcastic, “What about Martine? How will he handle your absence?” His eyes widened when he saw the faint bruises on her throat.

  Tossing a disgusted glare at Louie, Eiry snapped, “Leave the Butcher to me.” With a sinking heart, her friend had just become as dangerous as her enemies. Louie was jealous of Lucian. “My task is done, I'm going home.” She waved at Allen and Tom on her way out, wanting to get back to Lilia and make sure her sister was safe.

  * * * *

  Louie was shocked when he saw the bruises along Eiry's throat. Who hurt her? Why did she act as if he had insulted her? He hurried after her, wanting to find out what happened to her neck, but he never did. The rain let loose in a torrent, making the ride home miserable. When they reached the castle, they snuck through the hidden door and went to the stables. She took care of her own horse, bidding him a good night when they were finished feeding the tired animals. Following at a discreet distance, he watched her effortlessly climb the pipe up the side of the castle, despite the heavy rainfall and slipped into her own room. Louie's brow puckered in confusion. If she was sharing Martine's bed, he realized they wouldn't have gone out on a raid. What reason had she to be in Martine's chambers last night, if not to sleep with the man? His questions had to wait until later, he was exhausted.

  * * * *

  Drenched and freezing, Eiry hid her bow and arrows and changed into a clean shift. Cracking the door open a bit to see if the hall was clear, she snuck out and went to Lilia's chamber. Assured the child was sleeping soundly, Eiry pondered if she should check on Lucian as well. Deciding it a bad idea, she returned to her chambers and built up her fire. Shivering, she
added more wood to the fire, stoking it up until it near roared.

  Sneezing, she cursed her luck before climbing into bed, utterly worn out and chilled to the bone. “Blast it all, I do not need to catch a rotten cold on top of everything else,” she grumbled to herself. She needed to be strong. Tomorrow, her life would change completely—if they succeeded in robbing the Prince of England.

  * * * *

  Despite the heavy work Lucian did today, sleep refused him. Lucian sat in his chair listening to the door to Eiry's chamber open, hoping she'd come to him. When her door closed again, a sigh of disappointment escaped him. There was no way he was going to ask her to come to him. Pride was a blasted thing to possess, and he had spades of it. He remained seated, staring into the small fire, listening to the falling rain.

  * * * *

  Before the crack of dawn, Eiry roused her sister and carried the sleepy child downstairs. Anne made room for Lilia where her own children were tucked away on a cot normally used for the resident cook. Eiry placed her sister next to the sleeping children. Brushing back the golden curls, she placed a tender kiss on Lilia's forehead. Pressing a hand to her own warm forehead, Eiry groaned for she had caught a cold in the storm last night. Determined, Eiry knew she must make one last raid to secure their future.

  After her return last night, she tried to get some much needed rest until she realized Lucian was pacing in his chambers. She felt his agony, his wounded soul unconsciously called out to her. Needing her. Desiring her. Anguished at her decision to refuse him, denying her need to go to him, Eiry knew a pain as intense as Lucian's. They were both condemned to remain alone, leaders in a time of madness with no one to share the loneliness.

  Anne wrung her hands, anxious about today's ultimate risk. “Must you do this?” she had to ask, more than apprehensive about her husband risking his own life, along with Eiry's.

  "With the gold and jewels we steal today, we can cease the robbing and just live normally for a while.” Well, it was what Eiry hoped as she adjusted the quiver of arrows across her back. Dressed in a dark, suede tunic, and thick hose of brown, she tossed her cloak around her shoulders.