“So we go all the way to Nottingham to tell the Sheriff what? That the people collecting his taxes are doing far too good a job of it?”
“Don’t argue with me!” Robyn was getting monumentally fed up with the way Marion kept blocking her like this. Her ideas were like a path through the forest and his interruptions felled trees across it.
“I will argue with you because you’re not making sensible plans.”
“Plans don’t work!” That red mist was back. “Plans only work when everyone goes along with it. And, hello, did you see what happened when I turned up to liberate everyone? They didn’t go along with it!”
“Stop fighting, you two,” Mother Eleanor butted in.
Both breathing hard, Marion dropped his voice low. “So now you’re saying we front up to Nottingham with no plan at all and expect him, an Earl, to go along with what we say?”
“I don’t know!” Robyn screamed at him.
“Then stop shouting at me because I’m only trying to help!”
Furious with herself and the world in general, Robyn made a guttural cry and flung her arms about. “Then everyone can stop looking to me for the answers because I don’t have any.”
Palms up in a ‘will you calm down you’re scaring the horses?’ motion, Marion said, “We’re looking to you because someone has to be in charge.”
“Fine! From now on, Joan is in charge.”
Shocked that she’d been drawn into the conversation, Joan said, “Why me?”
“Because . . . you’re the tallest!” Robyn leapt off the wagon and stormed off into the shrubbery at the side of the road. There she flopped down in a bed of fallen leaves. Arms around her knees, she rocked softly back and forth. It made comforting scrunching noises beneath her. Not enough to drown out the sound of approaching feet.
Marion sat down beside her. “Everything is going to be all right,” he said as he put his arm around her shoulder.
She shrugged him off. “How can it be? It’s been one horrible thing after another.”
The cool winds swirled the fallen leaves around their feet. Figuratively she loosened one of the constrictive bands around her heart. “I’m scared, Marion. I’m really scared.”
He pulled her in for a warm hug. “If you weren’t scared, you’d be doing it wrong. We’re all here for you. We’re all in this together.”
The hug contained security and the promise of belonging. Another band slipped from her heart. “I used to dream of going on an adventure.”
Marion nodded.
“But I don’t want to have an adventure any more. Adventures suck.”
He hugged her again. “It only seems like that now. Because we’re in the sucky phase and Roger and Maudlin want to hang us from a gibbet. But things will get better, I’m sure of it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” He got back to his feet and held his hand out to help her up.
“How can you be so sure?”
“Easy,” he said as they stepped back to the road, “Things can hardly get any worse, can they?”
Back with her group, people rallied round with hugs and reassurances for Robyn. Mother Eleanor gave her the squishiest cuddle and said, “It will be all right, come on, let’s get moving again.”
Joan and Georgia declined a seat and walked a few paces behind, chatting away, catching up on lost time. Their long strides made it easy enough for them to keep up.
Shadow, the showpony-turned-workhorse, kept right on marching with her horsey friend Plus One, pulling the wagon behind them.
Robyn felt sorry for the horses doing the heavy lifting. “I’m going to walk up the front,” she said to nobody in particular.
“Tie your frock dear,” Mother Eleanor said.
“Yes mother.” She jumped over the side of the wagon, her tunic becoming caught in the wheel with a loud chhhk! ripping noise.
“I told you to tie your frock,” Eleanor said, quirking one side of her mouth.
Too tired to argue, Robyn tied the ripped edges of her clothes together and jogged over to Shadow. The horse wouldn’t make comments or make her feel guilty. No. The horse was her friend and they understood each other.
On they walked, down the middle of the dirt road filled with small puddles from recent rain and general damp.
Behind her, Wilfred sneezed.
A scattering of “bless yous” rang out.
And again.
More “bless yous”–
Robyn counted five, four, three two–
And again.
Poor Wilfred. He’d been incredibly helpful, yet all he’d earned in return was a face full of rash. Madge doted on him, which was some compensation.
“We left Bella behind!” Eleanor cried out.
Robyn’s shoulders slumped. “You can’t be serious?”
“I am! She’s more valuable than gold, that cow. What kind of a parent am I to forget my own child?”
With a silent ‘how dare you’, Robyn pursed her lips.
“You know what I mean!” Eleanor shifted sacks of food about on the wagon. “Where’s the rope? Please tell me we brought some rope? Come on don’t just–oh!”
Mother leaped back in shock. Everyone stopped to see what cause the surprise. A sheepskin flapped to the side, revealing Ellen a’Dale underneath.
“Hiya,” she said.
“What the devil are you doing here?” Robyn shouted.
“You’ve got a nerve,” Eleanor said.
“I’m really sorry.” Ellen put her palms up in surrender. “It was the only way I could think of to get away from Maudlin. She made me turn you in. I didn’t have a choice, honestly. And I understand that you never want to see me again, so if you want to throw me over I’ll be on my way.”
“You what?” Marion stared daggers at her.
Yikes, Robyn was relieved Marion had never looked at her like that, the kind of look that said he wanted to whack her with a hammer.
“I won’t lie to you, I did the wrong thing and I’m sorry,” Ellen started. “I used your wagon to sneak out of Sheffield under Maudlin’s nose, but I had to get away.”
Marion’s voice sounded low and deadly. “You’ve been working for Maudlin the whole time, you still are. You think we’ll say, ‘that’s fine, off you go?’ ”
“I was hoping you’d forgive me and let me stay with you.”
That brought guffaws of laughter from everyone. Even Wilfred looked like he was joining in. Or maybe his eyes were watering from being so close to the horse?
“I can’t trust you as far as I can spit,” Robyn said. “Get out of our wagon, you’re on your own.”
“Hang on a minute–” Marion interrupted.
“–Not plans ag–”
“–Raise your hands if you trust Ellen.”
The cool wind blew through the bare trees either side of The King’s Road. Leaves fluttered and formed drifts. Not a single person raised their hand.
They could be waiting until the other side of winter and still nobody would raise their hand.
“It’s not that I completely distrust you,” Mother Eleanor said, trying to find some kind of compromise. “It’s merely that you haven’t given us a reason to put our trust in you. Do you see where I’m coming from?”
“I’ll be on my way then. Nice knowing you.” Ellen climbed out of the wagon and walked at a steady pace away from them.
“Should we go after her?” Eleanor asked.
Marion spoke Robyn’s thoughts. “No thanks.”
Robyn couldn’t help thinking Ellen had left them far too easily. If the tables had been reversed, if she were the one being kicked out, she would have hung on to the wagon until they prized it out of her dead hands. Ellen hadn’t even taken the sheepskin she’d been hiding under.
In this weather?
She had to be heading back to Maudlin.
As they urged Shadow onwards and they walked further away, Robyn couldn’t help thinking Ellen would betray them again. They turned the corner and
Robyn eased Shadow to a stop. Drizzly rain began to swirl around them, adding a sparkly sheen to their tunics and hoods.
Marion looked at Robyn. “Do you think–?”
“–That was too easy? You bet.” She said, “Joan, Georgia, turn the wagon sideways so the wind isn’t blowing the horse hair into Will’s face.”
“Nice one,” Wilfred said.
Pulling their hoods close around their faces to keep out the cold, Robyn and Marion walked quietly back down the road towards the last place they’d seen Ellen. The wind flurried around them, making it difficult to remain downwind the whole time. The thing about the wind, it not only carried smells, it carried (or blocked, depending on your direction) sound. Robyn’s father had taught her this when they’d been hunting rabbits and ducks. Fish too. Apparently fish had an incredible sense of smell, so the only way to catch them was to cast lines upriver.
Being so close to winter, there were few leafy trees to hide behind. Only the random pine scattered deep in the forest. The leaves were crunchy and thick on the ground, so they couldn’t step on those without making a racket.
Soon they saw hoof marks made by Shadow, and scuffs in the dirt where Ellen had landed and then walked off. The light was growing dim. They’d have to find her soon because if they wandered off into the Shire Wood, they’d become utterly lost.
And yet, they couldn’t find Ellen.
“She can’t have just vanished.” Marion said, turning full circle, scanning hard for signs of her.
“I can’t tell if these are fresh boot marks or not,” Robyn said, looking at an impression on the ground. Not exactly an impression, more a removal of the top layer of dirt. The drizzle made everything sticky, so as they walked, their boots lifted a layer of road up with them.
They kept looking for signs, until finally: “That way,” Robyn pointed into a space between trees where a muddy half-boot print smushed into the grass.
Marion dragged the side of his boot onto the road, to mark a line they’d be able to find on their way back. He made an arrow point on the end, in the direction of the rest of the wagon and their gang. “Let’s go.”
They took careful strides, Robyn scanning the ground and plants for signs of someone walking through. She kept sniffing the damp air on the off chance the girl’s scent would carry. But her own snuffly nose wasn’t up to the job. Shadow had a beautiful nose. She should have brought the horse.
In the end it wasn’t her nose that lead them to Ellen, it was her ears. The lilting tune carried in the wind, growing louder as they closed in to find the traitor sitting in a clearing, preparing a meal of cured meats and oaten biscuits.
“Don’t mind if we do,” Marion stepped forward and reached for a slice of meat.
Ellen surprised them both by not looking the least bit surprised. “I knew you’d follow me. That’s why I’ve made enough for three.”
Shocked, Robyn missed her next step. “Pardon?”
“I had to sneak a ride with you, otherwise I’d have no way to get this stash back to Maudlin.”
“Hang on a minute, this is ours,” Marion started looking through the hoard. “Well, some of it’s ours. I recognize these tankards.”
“All tankards look the same,” Ellen protested.
Marion held one of them aloft in the dying light and pointed out a hallmark on the underside. “These two ‘ems’ are mine. It means ‘Marion Made’.”
“Well then . . . you made them for Maudlin.” Ellen made to snatch it back.
“And that’s why they say, ‘Welcome home father,’ on them? I suppose she had them made for when her dear papa came home from the war?”
A hesitation, “I don’t know. Yeah. Probably. Why not?”
“You’re not even trying now.” Robyn snorted. “Maudlin’s father and grandfather are both long gone. How else did she inherit Sheffield Castle?”
Ellen’s face fell, “How did you know that?”
It was hard for Robyn not to boast, it really was. “It’s how things work.”
“Shame on you both, taking advantage of a girl who can’t read,” Ellen said.
Pangs of guilt spiked Robyn’s tummy. She was hardly better in the lettering department. “Why don’t we drop the pretence and get everything out in the open.”
Ellen made shapes in the ground with the toe of her boot. “To be honest, I’m not sure how to tell the truth these days.”
A sigh from Robyn. “Start by telling us whose stuff this is?”
“It’s Roger’s. Well, not really Roger’s but he and his gang took it from Littleton and Loxley and the other villages around these parts.”
Marion asked, “Did you burn those villages too?”
Oh shush Marion, Robyn thought. They were on the verge of getting her to open up.
“I didn’t set fire to anything. But to be honest I didn’t stop them either.”
“Thanks for nothing,” Marion shot back.
Robyn said, “Marion, why don’t you go through the goods and sort things out for us? You’re ever so good at counting and sorting things.”
A sigh from Ellen. “I couldn’t stop them lighting the fires, not really, otherwise I would have stood out too much. It was bad enough being the smallest one in the gang. I pretended to be a boy so I could spy on Roger for Maudlin, because she doesn’t trust him. She doesn’t trust anyone. I don’t know why, she’s a good woman. Well, she was good to me. Maudlin took me in when I had nowhere else to go. Life with her was lush. So when she asked me to do her a favour, I won’t lie to you, it felt good to be needed. To have something to do. So I joined Roger when she asked me.”
“So, you’re working for Maudlin, and you’re working for Roger?”
“Yes, but Roger doesn’t know.”
“He doesn’t know you’re working for him?”
“No silly, he doesn’t know I’m working for Maudlin. He thinks I’m a boy. He thinks you’re a boy as well. I knew it was girls who whacked us on the King’s Road that night. If it makes you feel any better, he told Maudlin we were set upon by a huge gang of outlaws.”
Roger knew her real identity after the way he looked at her in the dungeons. “In any case, he knows I’m a girl now.”
“Does he now? Well, he lied and said there were ten of you or more at the time. He only said that to Maudlin to cover up for how pathetic he was at getting a belting from two girls. Then next time we were out–” she held her fingers up to make quote marks in the air, “collecting taxes” then she put her fingers down, “–He packed some of it away and hid it here, to come and get next time.”
Robyn creased her brows, “What are those finger things in the air?”
“I don’t know, to be honest. Must have picked up the habit from Maudlin.”
The girl was utterly baffling.
“At some point,” she prattled on. “Roger will come back here and take this and keep it for himself. But of course, it belongs to Maudlin, so we can take it back to her in the wagon and then she’ll be happy, and she’ll forgive you for taking the food and you’ll see how nice she can be.”
“But this is our stuff!” Marion held up a packed crate of metallic goods that clunked and clanked as he carried them. “No way are we giving this to Maudlin.”
Panic filled Ellen’s face. “Oh! But we have to give it to her. That’s the only way I’ll get back in her good graces.”
“You’re serious? She’s a raving banshee.”
“I know, Robyn. But she’s my raving banshee and I loves her.”
Robyn and Marion shook their heads again. They packed what they could and carried it back to the road. As they reached the edge of the Shire Wood, they had yet another hurdle to overcome.
Roger of Doncaster stood there, hands curled into fists. And he looked none too happy about someone trying to steal his previously thieved items.
CHAPTER TEN
Any moment now, Roger would order his men to arrest them. Darkness settled about them; a blessing and a curse. He’d have to get clos
er if he wanted to lay a hand on Robyn, and she and Marion were fast enough to make a run for it. But they didn’t know this part of the Shire Wood very well. They might make a run for safety, but they could just as easily charge off and brain themselves on a tree.
“We’ll take those now.” Roger reached his hand out to Marion.
“They’re mine.” He said.
Roger looked peeved. “I think you’ll find they’re mine.”
Ellen interrupted. “I think you’ll find they’re Maudlin’s, to be honest.”
“Whose side are you on?” Robyn and Marion said together.
“Who in God’s name are you?” Roger asked as he looked at Ellen.
“You don’t recognize me?” Ellen asked.
“Should I?” He shot back.
“I worked for you for long enough. I took a belting for you. You left me here to look after your commission.”
Roger stood there on the rise, squinting at her. “Allan?”
“It’s Ellen really. I won’t lie to you, I was only pretending to be Allan.”
Roger shook his head in frustration. “So you’ve dobbed me in good and proper to the witch, have you? Fine then, we’ll still be taking this but we won’t bother returning to Sheffield.”
Silently, a large shape appeared behind Roger as he talked. Robyn wanted to look, but dared not in case she gave something away.
“Come on lads, there’s work to–”
The large shape belted something hard into the side of Roger’s head, sending him sprawling into the fallen leaves below. His men shouted in alarm and tried to spring into action, but they too were set upon from all sides.
Thwacks and whacks filled the forest, followed by grunts and moans. Everything happened quickly yet Robyn took in the detail. The newly reunited Joan and Georgia worked like they’d trained together all their lives, their fighting styles felling Roger’s men with strokes strong and sure. One started to put up a fight with Joan but Georgia clonked him from the side.
The giants ‘high-fived’ each other at a job well done.
The fighting over, Robyn dashed over to make sure Roger was still alive. She put her ear to his mouth and felt his soft breath tickle her skin. Yes, alive, but completely unresponsive.
Robyn and the Hoodettes Page 12
