A/N- So as promised I am giving the 15th century setting a try. This will be a shortish story, at around 5 chapters and I am hoping to get it all out pretty quickly. As I mentioned this is not an era I am very knowledgeable about so sorry for any glaring errors. x
note- the title image is Keira Knightly when she was in Princess of thieves.
Thief Taker.
The bow was like an extension of herself, she had crafted the yew with her own hands, she had sat through the night, oiling the wood, examining each arrow, and now when the bow was strung and ready, her body hummed with the same tension as the tightly stretched string.
Dawn in the forest was full of the noise of each birds first song and this morning an ominous kind of mist had just begun to rise. Jane, Vincent, Frost and Francis moved into their positions, closing in on their targets. They had been easy to track, they were obviously not accustomed to forest living and had most likely only recently retreated to the forest.
Reports of strange ceremonies in the forest had unsettled the usually capable and steadfast foresters, who guarded this forest;as church land, on behalf of the Bishop. Their leader was greatly superstitious, he could deal well with bandits, outlaws and poachers, but this put him in fear for his mortal soul. Devil worship was something he wanted no part in.
Jane had doubted his charge, it seemed to come from rumour and hearsay, it was more likely a group of young men, playing at being a gang of villains. However when they had finally caught up with the group last night, Jane had been proven wrong. There had indeed been some kind of ceremony taking place and although Jane had been focused more on how many men were present and what kind of weapons they had, trying to gauge the level of resistance they would meet, she had heard some of the words that had been spoken like an incantation and when finally a lifeless body had been carried into the middle of the clearing on a stretcher of wood, It had taken everything Jane had in her; not to break up the gathering instantly and charge in regardless.
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As the ambush began, Jane saw Vincent across the clearing; easily take out the largest man of the group with his club. Frost had leapt onto the back of a younger man who had drawn a short sword and aimed it at Vincent. Francis had snuck in on the other side of the camp and took down a short but stocky man who had leapt out of his tent to investigate. Before they had chance to know that they were under attack, half the group had fallen and Jane had taken down two men who had tried to flee with her bow, striking sure, one in the calf and the other in his behind, which only slowed him enough for Frost to reach him.
The scene went quiet again and Vincent and the boys began to relax a little, calling to each other and to Jane as they tied hands and feet of their prisoners, collecting weapons and valuables as they went. Just as Jane began a headcount of the captives she heard a scuffling sound off to her left and saw a small figure dart out between two trees in an attempt to escape. Jane decided quickly against her bow and chose to give chase, she was full of unspent energy and the figure looked to be that of a small boy, an easy enough catch.
Jane's longer legs and her instinctive knowledge of the forest floor, where to step and when to leap, meant that she was upon the boy in a moment and she latched onto his arms flinging him down to the ground, herself down with him. Jane ran her hands up and down the body beneath her in search of any concealed weapons and when she was satisfied she turned the boy onto his back.
Eye to eye now, Jane looked into the boys face, he had striking eyes and he was desperately trying to catch at his breath, he looked like an animal caught in a trap and Jane felt a stab of pity. Jane stood and dragged the boy up with her, running her eyes over the body to make sure he showed no signs of serious injury and was able to walk, they didn't need him slowing them down.
"We are taking you to the Castle of Lincoln, where you and the rest of this scum will await the return of the keeper of the peace and will hence be charged with the crime of heresy." Jane said firmly; panting a little herself.
The boy looked fully at Jane as she spoke and Jane smiled slyly as she saw the moment the boy realised that he had been taken down by a woman. Jane wouldn't disguise her sex even if she could, it often worked to her advantage, men were prone to underestimate the female of the species and some were even squeamish about fighting her. With her hood and tunic, she looked no different to the rest of the team; from a distance but up close she was clearly a woman.
Jane took a length of rope and ordered her captive to hold out his wrists. As the boy complied Jane noticed how slight the boys hands and wrist were, she'd wager she could fit her long fingers fully around the pair; if she tried. Jane wrapped the rope tightly around the wrists; binding them together and finishing with a simple knot. The skin was pale and soft and without calluses and Jane could already see the beginnings of an angry red mark staining the flesh. Jane looked up into the face of the boy curiously, she would have guessed his age to be about 14 or so but the face she looked into seemed older, faint lines of time were discernible and the way the hazel eyes wearily watched her every move, spoke of something more than a child can see. Jane caught the watchful gaze in her own.
Jane tugged on the rope in her hand, testing the knot and bringing the distracted catch tumbling toward her where Jane caught him again, setting him back on his feet.
"Come on, we have a lot of road to cover, we ought to get started." Jane said as she motioned for the youngster to follow her.
Jane rejoined her group where; by now some of the prisoners had come around, gained consciousness and were beginning to realise fully their predicament. The men had been tied up and strung together across the trunk of a newly felled tree, that sat in the centre of them in order to restrict their movement further yet allow them to walk in a group out of the forest; carrying the tree with them.
Vincent had left the group now most of them were contained and approached what Jane realised was some kind of makeshift alter, a lifeless corpse posed on top of it. Jane shook away the thought of the despicable torments that the body had been subject to and tugged a little harder at the ropes she held, delivering a swift kick to another prisoner who dared to look at her as she passed.
"Long dead." Vincent said in answer to Jane's unspoken question as he rejoined the group, we will cover him for now and send someone back to get him later, he will need to be examined by the coroner, then he will be given a decent Christian burial."
"So there could be a charge of murder to answer to as well? " Frost asserted flashing Francis a look of self importance.
xxxxx
Vincent took the lead, with the sack full of confiscated items slung over his shoulder and headed out of the woodland at a steady pace, he hummed to himself happily and called to Francis and Frost in turn to point out a rare bird or the signs that a boar had passed through their route.
Jane had tied her young prisoner onto the end of the post and took up the rear, falling into step just a foot behind him. The raid had gone well and aside from some early protestations and a failed attempt at breaking free from the big man of the group, the rest seemed to quickly accept their fate and become manageable.
Jane heard her younger brother speak to the two men on the side of the group that he was responsible for guarding.
"What was all that last night? what were you doing? witchcraft? black magic?" He said waving his staff in the direction of the men.
"Necromancy." Vincent called back over his shoulder to the latest addition to their team. "Now, do not speak to the prisoners unless I instruct it." The older man bellowed.
Francis' head snapped quickly back to Jane who rolled her eyes at her brother in disapproval before he fixed his gaze on the ground ahead of him.
They walked until Jane could feel hunger begin to occupy her every thought, despite the bread she had rationed herself through the journey. The light was beginning to fade and they were out of the forest now, Vincent told his men that they would stop at the next farm to seek shelter for the night.
The farmer was a little jumpy on seeing the small mob trussed up to the trunk of a tree but Vincent calmed his fears both with verbal reassurance and the ever effective monetary reward.
The group were given ale and some stew and stale bread, which Jane dipped into the water she had boiled in her pot and made it more edible. Vincent and his team ate first and then shared out the scraps to the prisoners.
Jane went to the boy at the back of the group who seemed to have nodded off and was in danger of missing the meager sustenance being offered. Jane shook the boys shoulder, and he sprung awake, terror clear in his eyes.
"Its alright, you need to eat, we still have a distance to travel." Jane said softly, holding out a corner of bread she had saved from her own helping.
"Thank you." was whispered as the boy accepted the bread and tore into it eagerly, covering his mouth with his hand and looking sheepishly at Jane, who couldn't help but smile before she moved away.
Once again Jane couldn't fight the feeling that there was something strange about this boy, his face did not fit with the rest of the group and Jane felt an urge to know how he had ended up here, an urge she ignored as she got some much needed sleep before her turn on watch.
At first light; as they prepared to leave, Jane staggered back into the barn, moments after leaving to relieve herself.
"Sweet mother of Christ!" She yelled, hopping around the outbuilding and holding her foot up in her hands. Jane finally leant herself up against a thick wooden post to examine her injury.
Francis had fought a smile throughout the display. "Whats wrong Janie?" he asked now.
Jane glowered at him for his use of the affectionate pet name. "Goodness, let me see Francis, could it be the three inch nail currently sticking out of my foot!" Jane snapped.
"Oooh, let me pull it out!" Francis said excitedly, while Frost turned away with a queasy expression.
"Not for my own weight in wool, Francis." Jane said putting up a warning hand.
"I can see to it." A small voice, trying to make itself heard.
Jane looked at the boy, unsure for a second if she had really heard him. Then Jane looked around at the other faces, to see if they had heard it.
"He is our healer." One of the eldest prisoners said to Jane before receiving a silencing look from the obvious leader of the pack.
Jane looked back to the boy, who coloured at the attention. Jane had noticed that Vincent had allowed the boy to tend to the two men she had shot down yesterday.
"Don't do it Jane, he might suck out your soul." Francis urged, shooting a look of suspicious dislike at the young healer.
Vincent slapped his palm into the back of Francis' head. "Untie the boy and help Frost and I get the others outside." He barked; as Francis stood rubbing at his head. Francis followed his instructions to free the boy, giving him the most intimidating stare he could muster as he did so.
Jane hopped over to a mound of hay and lowered herself carefully onto it as she watched the men file out of the barn. Jane was aware that Vincent had likely set it up so she would have some privacy; knowing too well that she hated the team to see her in pain, she was all the more proud and stubborn for being the only female in the most reputable band of thief takers in the city.
The young healer crouched in front of Jane and took her foot in his hands, holding her gaze for a moment as if requesting permission before quickly and in one smooth motion pulling out the thick iron nail.
Jane hissed but bit back a curse, as she pushed her hands into the ground beneath her against the pain. The boy slowly peeled off Jane's leather boot and now took the naked foot in his small soft hands, three days on the road and in the woods ensured that Jane's foot was filthy and she felt a pang of shame before telling herself she really shouldn't care.
"The things you took from the camp." The boy spoke to Jane now. "There should be a butt of wine."
Jane scowled menacingly. "And you want it for helping me?" She guessed.
"To wash the foot." The boy said simply, failing to take offence at Jane's assumption.
Jane called to Francis to bring her the wine and as he delivered it Vincent peered into the barn curiously to see Jane; sat with her foot in the boys hands. Jane shot him a challenge in her look and he shrugged.
"Not going to ask." He said, letting the door shut after he and Francis left.
The healer poured some of the wine out over Jane's foot and then passed the remainder to Jane, as he took a closer look at the wound, he ran his thumb gently over the area around the wound and Jane pulled her foot sharply back; instinctively.
"You're ticklish." The boy smiled with one side of his mouth.
Jane remained mute and glared slightly. The boy rose and Jane watched him withdraw a small sheathed knife from inside his boot. Jane mentally kicked herself for not checking the boot for weapons as she gave a start and reached to her belt for a knife of her own.
The boy shook his head. "Oh, no, I just, I have to cauterize the wound, I am going to heat the blade in the embers from the fire." He gestured to the fire beneath the small cooking pot they had used to heat some pottage they had purchased from the farmer for breakfast.
Jane looked suspicious but slowly moved her hand away from her own knife, raising a palm to signal her consent. The boy moved gracefully to the dying fire and sat the blade of the knife over the hottest part in the very centre, waiting for a few moments, nervously watching Jane over a shoulder during the wait.
As the boy returned and took up Jane's foot again, he looked cautiously at the woman. "You may want to take some of the wine for this." He suggested and Jane complied, watching the boy intently.
"Fuck...Shite!" Jane yelled as the healer pushed the flat of the heated blade against the small open wound, effectively sealing it. "Argh!"
" need to close the wound off from infection." The boy offered sheepishly.
Jane shrugged nonchalantly as she recovered. "Yes, I've seen it done, I just wasn't quite ready for it."
The boy picked up Jane's boot and handed it to her.
"Thank You." Jane said before thinking how absurd it was to be thanking a prisoner for tending to her when he really had no choice, Vincent would have forced his hand, although Jane remembered; the boy had been the one to come forward and reveal his ability to heal her.
The boy simply nodded and waited for Jane to right herself before holding out his hands to be re-tied.
xxxxx
Jane and her team headed back into Lincoln City between the shadow of the great castle; the City's strength and security and the majestic towers of the beautiful Cathedral, spires stretching into the sky like the gates of heaven.
Jane noticed the reaction of her young captive who stared up in awe at the Cathedral. He had the look that those who had never seen the building up close were prone to have, amazement, it made one feel at once lifted up and yet insignificant. Jane felt the immense pride of hailing from this impressive city and of being of service to it's preservation, to the people, the bishop and the king himself.
The streets between these two triumphs of architecture were bustling with street traders, stall holders, monks, beggars, the yellow hooded whores, pie sellers and members of the garrison, every variation of person you could imagine was represented here in some form. Jane breathed it all in and felt her blood pump harder, her heart quicken, she was happy to be home.
The wagon they had picked up outside of the city walls and thrown their prisoners into meant that now the bound men, ringed by Vincent's well known band of thief takers, began to attract a lot of attention. Many of those living and working in the city had heard the tales of the dangerous devil worshippers in the woods and guessing that these were the culprits they began to hurl abuse and pelt the men and the cart with rotten food, mud and anything unpleasant that was to hand. Abuse was hurled too, shouts of "devils, demons and evil" were joined by calls for the lord god to deliver and protect from these crimes.
Vincent led the wagon, with it's growing crowd, up to the entrance of the castle and through the yard to the tower that housed the cells. As they approached the tower and slowed; Jane saw the way the young boy's face paled to grey and the frightened look in his eyes. As the men were led out of the wagon and down the winding stone staircase Jane saw the boy's feet falter and she quickly took his shoulder and put a hand to his waist trying to make what really was support; appear as restraint, dragging the boy a little so he had to lean against her.
"You're alright. " She whispered.
They split the men into two small secure rooms and locked them in for the night, Vincent, Francis and Frost, congratulating themselves and each other on a job well done.
" Do you think they'll hang?" Francis asked excitedly.
"That's not up to us." Vincent replied. "They are in the hands of God and the law now." he declared.
Jane who remained subdued; couldn't shake some strange unhappiness about this.
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A/N- As ever, please do let me know what you think, and many thanks in advance xx