The nothing amplified every tiny something.
When real noises eventually came her way, they nearly blew out her eardrums.
Voices. Familiar and unwelcome, because they belonged to Maudlin and–ears straining–yes, it was Roger of Doncaster.
“Put it in this one.” That voice belonged to Maudlin. Bossing people round.
“You’re sure nobody saw us?” That was Roger.
The walls amplified all sounds, making it impossible for Robyn not to hear their every word.
“Nobody saw us. But if it makes you feel any worse, the walls have ears so be quiet.”
“How many people are in the cells? I sent a girl down here earlier.”
“What for?” That was Maudlin’s annoyed tone. Or, to put it another way, her default position.
“For her own good,” Roger said with a wheeze, laughing at his own joke.
“Which means she can hear everything we say and do, so keep talking if you want to dig your own grave. I know the girl is listening. Aren’t you?”
Cold chills radiated through Robyn. How could she ignore them when they were the only noise around?
“Aren’t you?” Maudlin called out again.
A sigh of resignation from Robyn. “It’s pretty hard not to.”
“Show yourself,” Maudlin said as she stood on the other side of the door and opened the inspection hatch.
“I won’t look at either of you. Because I don’t know who you are, which means I can’t tell anyone what I’ve heard because I don’t know who’s doing the talking.”
“Nice try,” Maudlin said, “Now take your hood off and show yourself.”
Roger said, “Hood?”
The loony in the cell across the hall chose now of all times to call out, “Hood, Hood!”
“Come on girl, let me see your horrible face so I may feed my nightmares,” Maudlin said with a coldness that only added to Robyn’s misery.
“Nightmares!” Came a cry from down the hall. The other prisoner’s weird voice bounced around the walls.
“OK then,” Robyn walked over to the inspection hatch and pulled the hood off her head.
Maudlin cackled, “You! I should have known you’d end up in here!”
Roger then took his turn looking at her. His jaw tightened but he said nothing.
“Come on, there’s more to be done,” Maudlin said.
The silence between Roger and Robyn spoke volumes. He knew who she was now; the girl who’d assaulted them that night on the King’s Road.
***
Gates clanged and the door groaned open. Robyn woke up to find the giant turnkey had come to her cell. “Aren’t you a favourite? You’ve got friends on the outside!”
Of course she had friends on the outside, fat lot of good they were doing at the–
Whoa! Joan walked in and stood beside the turnkey. They could have been sisters. They were the same height and colouring, give or take a few layers of grime.
“This is wonderful!” Robyn said throwing herself at the prison guard, who made an ‘oomph’ noise from the impact.
“We’ve paid Maudlin the fees and you’re free to go.” Joan said.
Tears of shock and gratitude bubbled from Robyn. Then reality poured in. “What, all of it?” They couldn’t have used all their coins freeing her, had they? They’d have nothing left to give to their villagers.
Whenever they found them.
Joan said, “What are you waiting for, let’s go.”
“OK.” Robyn boggled for a bit as she saw just how similar her friend and the turnkey were.
“Are you all right?” Joan asked.
“No,” Robyn said, even while a smile spread over her face. “Oh wow, this is so great.”
Joan’s brows knitted together. So did the guard’s. Their actions so similar Robyn wondered how the two of them couldn’t see it.
“I didn’t think we left you here long enough to go loopy . . .” Joan started.
Robyn kept right on smiling and said, “I’m fine, really. But Joan? Can’t you see? I think this woman’s your mother!”
A sledgehammer couldn’t have knocked these two giants over, but Robyn’s simple words made them stagger. Then they looked at each other as if for the first time.
The resemblance was uncanny.
How had they not seen it the moment they’d met? “You two need to find a water trough and have a look at your reflections.”
“H-how old are you?” The turnkey asked, taking a step back to get a better look.
Joan looked puzzled. “This summer will be my seventeenth.”
Robyn grabbed Joan by the elbow. “Come out into the light, you two, and you’ll see what I mean.”
All this time they’d left the cell door open, but she hadn’t made a run for it.
“By the way, where’s the rest of Loxley?”
“In the tower,” The turnkey said, not doing a very good job of guarding anyone.
“My parents–” Joan began, then she teared up and dragged her dirty sleeve over her face, “They found me and called me Joan.”
“Hello Joan.” They stared at each other for a little while. “I’m Georgia.”
So now the turnkey had a name.
Fuelled with renewed hope, Robyn took this as a sign from the heavens that things would go their way. “Georgia, you’re with us. Take us to the tower so we can free our people.”
But the two giant women paid her no mind, both collapsing into tears and hugging one another. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” Anything else Georgia said was smothered in a messy hug. The words probably didn’t matter anyway. Just the sentiment, which was overflowing.
Robyn tugged on Joan. “There’ll be plenty more time for that later.”
Joan pulled back and swiped a fresh streak across her face. “Stop bossing me around, Robyn. I’ve just found my mother. I mean, my other mother. I have a lot to process right now.”
“Righto,” Robyn shrugged and took to the corridor, looking for any other prisoners. But there was only one other.
“Leave me alone!” The weirdo in the other cell said.
“Don’t you want to get out?” Robyn asked.
“Oh yes! Let me out.” He changed his tune in a finger snap. “So much to do, so little time.”
At which point Robyn figured she’d need the key, so she went back to the crying giants to ask them for–
“Oh, isn’t this lovely?”
There by the heavy doors stood Maudlin and on her shoulder the all-seeing jackdaw.
“Get back in your box!” Maudlin shouted as the jackdaw flew straight for Robyn’s face.
Startled, Robyn ducked but the bird landed on her head, claws digging into her scalp. “Get! Get!” Her voice ricocheted off the walls, making her voice sharp, loud and panicky. Blindly she batted at the bird. It jabbed its beak at her hands in retaliation.
“Ow!”
“Stop it!” Joan shouted. Her voice did the rounds of the walls as well. “Georgia, do something.”
“I can’t!”
“Is someone going to let me out?” The prisoner down the hallway asked.
“Get this bird off me!” Robyn cried out.
“Please, Georgia?” Joan asked again.
“Get back in your cell and Rook will leave you alone,” Maudlin’s clipped tones jammed into Robyn’s ears.
Anything to get the marauding claws out of her scalp. Robyn ran into her cell, but the bird refused to let go.
“Robyn get out of there!” Joan said. “Maudlin you thief! We’ve paid for her release, now let her go!”
“Hush!” Georgia warned.
“Get off!” Robyn’s echoed. The raven’s “caw, caw” noises bounced around the walls like a drum beat.
Suddenly Robyn stopped fighting and remembered the last time she’d been around that bird. Each clap cracked like a whip. Down in the other cell, the prisoner clanked his tankard against the bars.
In the cacophony of claps and clangs, the jackd
aw hit the wall and tumbled down. Robyn darted out the cell and pulled the heavy door behind her.
“You’ll hang for this!” Maudlin lunged for the cell door.
“Come on Joan!” Robyn made a dash for freedom.
The sound of heavy boots behind her meant Joan had to be close. At least, she hoped the sounds belonged to Joan. No time to turn and check. Another pair of boots joined them.
“The tower!” Joan panted as they came to a staircase.
Robyn heaved with relief that the person behind her were allies not enemies.
Pain lanced her chest as they took the stairs two at a time. Tightness burned her thighs. Mouth-breathing all the way, Robyn kept running. When they reached the top, they gulped for air. Joan and Robyn leaned against the walls, their breathing loud and messy.
Gasping for breath, Georgia came into view.
“You two . . . are trouble.”
“Sorry,” Joan shrugged.
Robyn couldn’t help smiling. “Can you get the tower door open?”
Georgia waved her hand in the air and wheezed, “Can’t breathe.”
They didn’t have time for luxuries like breathing. By now, Maudlin must’ve got her bird back, and her temper up. She only had to follow the direction of their noisy footsteps to know where they’d gone.
And set more guards on them.
“Georgia, how many guards does Maudlin have?”
Wheeze. Headshake. Joan splayed all four fingers and her crooked thumb out. “Only three.”
Joan laughed, “Hey, my thumb’s crooked like that too!”
Fresh tears made clean channels down Georgia’s face. “I’m so sorry darling.”
They hugged again.
They couldn’t stand around here wasting time, they had to keep moving. Heartbeat still three times faster than normal, Robyn was as recovered as she’d ever be. “Give me the keys. I’ll go to the tower.”
With shaking hands, Georgia gave Robyn the keys from her belt.
Instead of charging straight off, Robyn stopped and made herself think. Made a plan. Once she found the tower, what then? She knew Maudlin would be furious at what they’d done, but she didn’t have that many guards to do anything about it.
Which meant Robyn and her gang had the numbers.
As long as they didn’t run into Roger of Doncaster. Then again, if she didn’t get a move on, somebody would find them and they’d all end up in the dungeons.
Another flight of stairs, this lot took her down again, which felt like the wrong direction, but then she went up again, away from Joan and Georgia and far away from Maudlin. She stopped by a narrow gap in the wall where the wind howled through. Everything was made of timber up here. Creaking timber that groaned as the wind blew against it.
Timber that held within it the centuries-old smell of life and death.
The next door she came to had the unmistakable noises and aromas of people behind it. A great many people.
And a cow? Yes, definitely the stench of cow behind the door. How had they even got it up here?
Creaking the door open, Robyn found herself staring at the rear end of Bella.
Her mother looked up from her stool by the cow and beamed. “Robyn darling!” Then her face fell. “They haven’t sent you up here too, have they?”
Stunned, Robyn shook her head and looked around the room. “I’m here to get you out. All of you,” she said. Only then did she notice how many ‘all of yous’ there were. The women and children from her village she knew straight away, but there were many more, including Joan’s elderly parents and others she knew from Littleton. It wouldn’t be fair to get her people out but leave the rest behind.
Eleanor left Bella mid-milking and locked Robyn in a hug. Mother Miller then appeared, flour over her face and hands, smothering her in a three-way hug. Four and five way, judging by the bodies clamouring around her.
She squeezed out, “No time for hugs, we have to leave.”
“But we’re nearly done.” Mother Miller said.
The wind howled through the narrow windows. Several villagers worked together attaching a heavy quilt over it to block out the wind.
Candles burned in stone holders to shed light, but there were no fires like the Inn where they could keep warm. Surrounded by timber, a fire up here would incinerate them.
“We’re making flour and butter to see Sheffield through the winter.” Eleanor said.
“But we have to go. Now”
Mother Miller said, “But we promised Maudlin we’d get the work done.”
“Maudlin’s a lying cow.” Robyn said, then noticed the long-suffering beast and said, “Sorry Bella.”
Mother Eleanor looked from the villagers to Robyn. “We made a deal that if we produced enough for the winter, we’d be able to stay. If we left now, what do we have to go back to?”
“But–” But nothing. What did they have to go back to? Only the smithy still had a roof back in Loxley. Littleton fared even worse. Who knew what condition the other villages were be in.
“But she’s keeping you here as prisoners!”
Mother Eleanor said, “As we have nowhere else to go, it’s a moot point darling.”
Robyn’s head was going to explode in frustration. “I broke in here to get you out. And you want to stay?”
“If you’ve got any sense, you’ll stay as well,” Eleanor said. “Sheffield is our liege lord. We came here for help and we’ve received it.”
Everyone was staring at her now and looking confused and guilty. Even the people not from her village–for there were dozens of women and children up here working. Sewing, milking, milling flour and churning butter. Where were Joan’s parents? They had to be here somewhere.
She splayed her hands out. “Doesn’t anybody want to get out of here?”
The wall quilt rippled aside. Wind howled through the thin window, its icy teeth biting Robyn’s neck. She pulled the hood over her head.
Maybe her mother wasn’t so crazy after all. At least staying here, they had a place to stay; warm blankets and plenty to eat. Much more than they had back in Loxley.
A knock came from the other side of the wall.
From this height?
Mother Miller opened a hatch to reveal Marion sitting in a loop of rope, his face whiter than flour.
“We have a way to get you out,” he said. “Then we can get Robyn out of the dungeon.”
“I’m here,” Robyn made a small wave.
“Oh, hi.” A huge grin split his face, followed by red blooms on each cheek. “Well done you.”
Robyn beamed with pride. Not just from Marion’s compliment, but his hatred of heights. How he hadn’t vomited yet was a miracle.
Joan and Georgia chose that moment to stagger in to the room. Joan sized up the room and said, “OK let’s get everyone out in an orderly fashion before Maudlin calls in reinforcements.”
Once more the wind howled through. It snuffed the candles, filling the air with waxy smoke.
“Joan? Is that you?” Her elderly parents approached.
Oy, the delays! Robyn wanted to slap them all upside the head. Why where they not listening to her and doing exactly what she said?
Turning to Marion, she shrugged in futility as Joan’s elderly mother hijacked the scene and loudly called out to her daughter. She took her sweet time reaching Joan, which only made Robyn agitate all the more to get out of there.
Maudlin was coming!
But no, this would play out in parent-time, as Joan introduced her mother and father to Georgia.
At which point, Marion climbed inside the window and Robyn helped him get his breath back. Credit where it was due, he’d done an incredibly brave thing.
“That took guts,” she whispered as they closed the window slats.
He gave her a nudge and kept his voice low. “How’s the plan going?”
“It was going fine until just now.” Robyn crossed her arms over her chest, then raised her voice to the room. “Can we get out of here
? We can have reunions later.”
“Robyn dearest,” Mother Eleanor said, “All things considered, this is the best place for us to be.”
“But Marion has gone to so much trouble!”
Breaking away from her father and both her mothers for a moment, Joan said, “Robyn’s right. We should get out of here. Mum, Dad, Mum, you should come with me. Hey Marion, how does that sling work?”
Marion wedged the hatch open, cold wind raced through. His fingers clamped on the edge of the frame, his knuckles as white as his face. “Wilfred and Madge have the horses are down below, they’re pulling on the rope, which goes up there through a couple of pulleys and holds you up and guides you down. Works great. Just don’t look down, yeah?”
Joan reached the window and had a look out. “Oh dear. It is a long way. Are you sure it will hold me?”
It didn’t seem possible, but Marion’s face paled even more.
“Everyone out the window in an orderly fashion,” Robyn said.
Joan stepped back from the window. “Shouldn’t I go last, you know, just in case the rope, uh, you know?”
“Nobody else is going, Joan,” Eleanor said.
Robyn gasped. “Mother! Stop ruining it. Maudlin will be here any second!”
“Well I’m not leaving,” Eleanor said, sitting back down near Bella.
Something exploded inside Robyn. “You’re choosing the cow. Over me?!”
“It’s not like that,” her mother said, making a little moue with her mouth. “But that is a long way down, and we’re not prisoners. We’re free to leave any time we like. There’s no lock on the door.”
The wind flapped the tapestries back and forth. Not many people made eye contact with Robyn. Those who did had looks of helplessness about them.
“But we went to so much trouble!” Robyn said. Hot tears welled in her eyes. No way would she leave without them. No way on earth would she . . . Dammit! The first drop splashed on her cheek, then the next.
She swiped with her tunic sleeve and turned to Marion. “So much for plans then.”
He looked equally crestfallen.
“Well Joan, you may as well climb out,” Robyn said, every word dripping in defeat.
“That’s a heck of a long way down. Can’t we take the stairs?” Joan said.
“Come on Joan,” Marion guided her out the window, speaking softly to her the whole time with a reassurance that masked his own terror.
Robyn and the Hoodettes Page 10
