To my dear and noble friend, Sir Guy of Gisborne.
I pray that this letter finds you in good health and that fate has smiled upon you for I fear that it has not seen fit to bestow the same blessings onto me.
By now, you must have seen the many wanted signs that scatter our beloved England. I dare say that even your own distant lands in Dartmoor, you must have seen them.
They tell of the outlaw, Robin Hood. They tell of how he is a bloodthirsty tyrant, sleighing all in his quest for chaos.
They speak the truth.
With my own eyes, I have witnessed this maniac. There is no ounce of sense to him. He kills who he pleases and takes what he sees fit.
I know that this is hard for you to believe. After all, word of mouth is far more mighty than the likes of a few pieces of parchment. And the people positively adore him. But they see only what he wants them to see. They are merely pawns to him and for now, it suits him better to have them on his side. And besides, money means nothing to him so why not send it forth to others? Wealth is no factor in his love of theft. He steals for the thrill. Giving spoils to the poor is also a way of tampering with the foundations of society that he so hates. He does anything in his power to create chaos. Money can also be used for many benefits. People will do anything for fortune and make foolish deals. Hood uses these to his liking and people regret ever trusting him.
You must be wondering how I know all of this? Well, I am in his gang.
I understand the disappointment that you must feelings towards me. I feel it also. But please do not let this alter how you view me. Remember when we were young lads away at school. That is still who I am. I am just in a situation with no escape.
Please allow me to explain. I pray that you are still reading this for I so desperately need your help.
I first knew Robin long before we ever met. This was back in the days when my name was still Will Scathelocke rather than Will Scarlet. In fact, this was a name that he himself gave onto me, but more on that later.
The thing that you must understand about evil is that I do not believe that it is simply born. It can however be shaped. This came in the form of Robin's Father, Sir Hugh Fitzooth, Earl of Huntington and Lord of Locksley. If any soul were ever to be a threat to Robin's title of the most evil tyrant, his Father would be the main competitor. From an early age, Robin was told that he was far superior to all in England and everyone else present had the purpose of being his property. He was sent to bed every night with the saying, "sleep well my son. For one day you shall control all of England." This dark lullaby brought about dreams of power. But power is never easily attained. Another regular occurrence in the Locksley house was a game of chess between Father and Son I recall in particular one certain game. Lessons taught during these times were of a different sort of strategy. Sir Hugh would gesture to the playing piece symbolizing the King. "This shall be you my son," he would say. His hand then moved to the pawns. "And these are your people. Use them well for they protect you. But remember, their purpose is for nothing more." On this day, he said his piece and in one swift move, defeated a pawn of Robins. The lad could never handle defeat, even then. He looked toward the defeat pawn in his hand and flung it with all his might towards the stone wall in a furious rage. That chess set was an elegant model that Sir Hugh deeply favored. His rage matched that of his sons as both glared at each other. "Do you have any idea of what you have just done?" the Father asked in a dangerous voice.
Robin's anger faded slightly as looked to his Father and said, "Only what you told me to. This pawn served its purpose and showed failure. I have no more use for it."
The smile that graced Sir Hugh's face chills me to this day as he saw what his son was becoming. And that was a perfect copy of himself.
I knew that I was to be such a pawn. This was through no fault of my own but through my Fathers. I blame him not. Times were hard and sacrifices had to be made.
A dark plague struck the town of Locksley and many suffered. Even after the sickness ended, the suffering remained. The sickness had taken many a tradesman and the economic situation was at a loose. Poverty was widespread after the little money possessed by the townsfolk had been flung towards any hope of a cure. However, those who had been blessed with a successful cure were now faced with the upcoming doom of starvation.
But of course, the Lord of Locksley's household had thought nothing of the plague. They possessed such wealth that, after a whisper of the plague, the family was able to pack their belongings and retire to a distant summer home to return only upon the ending of the plague. That they did, as they took no notice of the plight of all else involved.
The town's two most influential men were pushed to confront the Lord Locksley and beg for his charity. One was my own Father. George Scathelocke. Others knew him as the brother of Sir Hugh. Little was known to the people about the true family history of these two brothers. In truth, they both were born into the luxury of the Fitzooth household but only one sibling inherited the dark soul with which came the need for such titles. My Father married for love and was disowned by the family. He was uncaring and took on my Mother's family name of Scathelocke.
The other man was Sir Harold Fitzwater, the previous Lord of Huntington. Long ago, Sir Hugh cheated the man out of his role for additional power and he had lived a modest life since.
Both were known amongst the people as brave men and they were pleaded with to beg for mercy from Sir Hugh. They were granted an audience with him, much to their surprise. Yet the Lord seemed completely uninterested in anything they had to say. He would not even look upon on them, choosing rather to concentrate on the playing guards in front of him. Both men pleaded desperately, telling of their hardships and pain.
Sir Hugh simply raised a hand, gesturing for silence. "Gentlemen," he said, "do you by chance know how to play piquet?" Both men were surprised at such a question and nodded. "Excellent," the Lord said as he dealt out cards. "Let us have a round."
"But my Lord," my Father stuttered. "What of our people."
Sir Hugh sighed, deeply tired of hearing such trivial tales. "Anything to stop you whining. I will help you." The faces of the men instantly lit up with hope as they mumbled their thanks. They thought not of the price for the Lord had not ceased talking. "If, you defeat me in this round."
Neither man had particular skill with such a game. But it seemed their only hope. So they sat, nervous all the while. "Halt," the Lord said, apparently still far from finished. "You must have something to offer me. That is how a wager works. Have you no knowledge of anything?" What have you for me if I win?"
They had nothing. All money was lost and their homes destroyed after a strong winter. This winter had also taken the crops and most of the cattle. "What could you possible wish for my Lord?" Sir Harold said, hoping to distract him with flattery. "You have so many riches already. There is nothing we could give you that would be worthy."
The ploy seemed to have taken effect. The Lord looked about his chambers in happiness as he saw many a fine possession. His eyes lingered on the family portrait. In particular, the image of his son.
"I want your children," Sir Hugh said simply, eyes once again on the cards as he dealt.
Both men were instantly on their feet, a mixture of worry and anger present. Sir Harold had far more anger present as he simply shouted, "you will not touch my daughter."
My Father focused on practically to find a solution through reason. "Why on earth would you want our children?"
"My son Robin is a born leader," he said with a smile to his face. "But he needs practice. This would be easier on those around his own age. Your children will do nicely. The plainer the better."
The disgusted look on Sir Harold's face informed the others that he would take no part in such a plan. "Perfect," Sir Hugh said with a dark smile. "For piquet calls for two players, not three. Scathelocke shall play for both of you."
My Father ignored the horrified expression of his friend, as well as the insult that had been the use of his new last name. His brother was doing everything possible to remind him of his status in life and who the real winner was of the pair. My Father was confident however that the winner of this particular round would be him. He may have little skill in cards but he knew that his brother had less. Their many rounds as children resulted in the elder of the two storming away in a rage.
"So brother, shall we begin?" My Father knew that there was no choice.
Sir Hugh's favored rule of piquet was the way that he was the elder brother and hence forth was always the elder player. Therefore he was granted more power in the game. Father's first hand was a blank as he cursed this bad luck. The brother's face was unreadable as he studied his own cards. Finally he lowered them slightly and declared a blank. My Father thanked the Lord as he too dispersed of his useless cards. Sir Hugh drew again and sadly received ten points. Being the younger, Father was never granted the chance to declare a blank independently.
Piquet is a game of sequences. I recall your hatred for such activities in school and shall not bother to recall the rules, knowing full well that you would simply skim to the outcome.
Well my Father lost.
Sir Harold strode forth declaring once again, "my daughter is not yours to take." He was stopped mid-sentence as Sir Hugh flung the back of his hand into the poor mans face. Streams of blood were caused from those extravagant rings as probably was the intention.
"My men will escort you gentlemen home," Sir Hugh said coldly. "They will also escort the children back to my estate."
"Please. You have no right," Sir Harold said in one last desperate attempt.
"Oh do not beg Harold. It is beneath you. A mans word is his law. Had the game taken an alternative turn, would you not have held me to my end of the bargain? Now go. And do not doubt that I can make you suffer if you disobey me. You know that I can."
Neither man knew at the time of the subtle way Sir Hugh had cheated. But it mattered not. The Lord never had any intention of giving any money. He wanted only for his own personal gain.
I recall being awoken by loud noises, much to my upmost confusion. Looking around, I thought it odd that people were awake so late as it could not possibly yet be close to morning.
Then the door crashed open and I was suddenly pulled from the bed with a tight and painful grip. I was suddenly surrounded by many of Sir Hugh's personal guards while the other group held back my hysterical Mother. My Father seemed in a trance as he was unfit to do anything. I tried everything to break free but there was not a lot that a child of nine summers was capable of achieving against fully-grown trained guards.
After being carried outside I was thrown in a carriage. It was less a carriage and more of a cell with one small barred window.
Then the process was repeated at the Fitzwalter estate. The same cries of panic were heard before a young girl was thrown in beside me. She was so much younger than I, scarcely only five. I tried to look as brave as I could to reassure her of safety. I knew her. Marian Fitzwalter had always been so shy whenever seen around town but always kind.
Once again, the cart was moving. This time it was headed back to Locksley manor. Hope came from my Mothers voice as I heard her crying out from ahead.
Hope if a futile thing.
The next sound was the pulling of a bowstring and the distinctive sound of an arrow being sent forth. My Mother was silent. Then others were screaming.
Sound left now as I could no long remain calm. Our carriage experienced a sudden jolt as we were both flung backward. I scarcely waited to regain my footing as I stumbled forward to the bars.
From there I could see the still form of my mother. I am still unsure of what finally killed her. The arrow would have at least been quick. But if this were the case, why would there have been a need to steer the carriage in such a way to trample her? It seemed that Sir Hugh's men were just as vicious as their master.
I fell back down to the carriage floor, feeling practically nothing. Feelings returned as Marian crept beside me and lay close, holding my hand.
It was a sleepless night for both of us.
.
.
The next morning, we met him.
We were presented with a flourish, obviously intended to be some wonderful gift.
Robin was not impressed. "Is that really the best you can do Father? The girl is half my size. And the boy looks to be diseased."
In all fairness, my appearance had changed dramatically. As you know, I was one of the few who recovered from that dreaded plague but not without consequence. All symptoms had faded with the exception of the bright red rash over a great majority of my skin that had left my skin scarred. At the time, I prayed for my skin to quickly return to its previous state. Not all prayers come true and as you have seen, the rash is still there today.
"I did not select them for appearances my son. For this matters not. These two are here for you to practice your discipline skills. They are to be your first followers."
He studied us and I studied him in return. He was tall for his age, which was thirteen when we first men. This made him all the more ominous. Curse the spirits but even then he was graced with attractive features, including his dark brown hair and deep green eyes.
Apparently I studied for two long, as my vision was suddenly impaired as he hit me as hard as he could across the face. "You dare to stare at me peasant?" he yelled. All the while, his father looked on with that proud look.
You can imagine the kind of childhood I had. My official title was Robin's playmate which was quite appropriate in the way that he liked to play games that involved pain for myself or Marian. I tried my best to protect her but quickly learnt that this meant additional pain for the both of us.
He constantly dressed us in red as our normal clothes quickly stained with blood. Having bloodied children around was apparently not a good image of the estate. This was the only reason for the luxury of coloured cloth for us. They cared nothing for our personal well-being or even hygiene. On important occasions we were ordered to bathe but on the average day you would see us covered with a mixture of dirt and blood all over our skins and matted through out hair.
.
Such a proper occasion came in the guise of Robin's fourteenth birthday celebration. A large affair was being thrown and Marian and I were instructed to remain near Robin and the other young Lords who had gathered to celebrate.
Dare I say, the night started out as quite a success. These functions were all about impressing the other Lords so even the servants were dressed formally. It took me over an hour to understand which parts of my attire went where and to learn the proper way to assemble them. I was not as lucky as Marian who had the entire female serving staff fawning over her. She had won their hearts shortly after arriving with that ability of hers to make everyone fall in love with her. After all of the blood and mud was washed away, it was also proven that she would grow to be a very beautiful girl with her pale skin, dark brown curls and big brown eyes. She was then dressed in a lovely gown of blue as many fussed over the proper way to style her long hair.
We barley recognised each other after the whole process which caused great humour between us.
But the humour was short lived as we worried about our fate of the night. Following our usual mannerism of fear, we held hands and squeezed hard whenever we felt worry. Both our hand were rather sore by the time we reached the ballroom.
Despite our fear, it was a truly beautiful sight. Everything we laid eyes upon sparkled.
Small amount of time was allowed for being astounded at sights as we were quickly pushed to the children's area. This consisted of Robin and many other young males of around about the same backgrounds. Hence forth, all were horrible young men whose eyes lit up at the prospect of servants they could taunt.
Marian's beauty served her badly as she drew all attention from me. Crude comments were flung as they pulled at her braids or her dress. Finally, this grew boring to them as they wished to hurt her further. Until then she had remained strong, showing no emotion. That past year under the rule of Robin was already shaping her to be tough. But there is only so much that a six year old girl can handle. Under Robin's instruction a few of the other boys had stolen a large serving jug from the adults and proceeded to pour its entire contents all over the poor girl. She broke down in tears. This night had clearly meant so much to her. For once, she could feel beautiful as every fawned over her as they had in her past. Now she was reminded that she would forever be a slave.
I stood up as tall as I could muster and yelled, "leave her alone, you hear?"
They heard alright. Robin's attention was finally averted and that troublesome gleam was still there. The other boys also took notice of me and all attention instantly went to my scars. My comments were about the disgusting diseases I must have and how they dare not even breath he same air as me. But I too was strong. Anything they said had already been said by Robin over the course of the past year.
He knew this, and decided to go further. "He got that rash from his whore of a Mother. It is punishment from God for her many past sins." My hands twisted into fists but could do nothing as they laughed. The bastard continued. "You know, his Father practically begged for us to take him away. He didn't want him you see. Who would? Then his whore Mother couldn't take it anymore. Must have been a hell of a burden having such a useless son. It was a good day when she killed herself. And now his Father is a disgusting homeless drunk who begs in the ditches on the outskirts of town. But least you know where you are headed right Will? Are you excited to follow in the family footsteps?"
I knew better than to hit him. Consequences for such an action had been learnt early on and they had long since scared me off. But never before had I been so angry. I could feel my face flushing in fury as it turned a deep red.
"His face has turned scarlet!" one of the boys called out and they all roared with laughter.
Robin turned to me thoughtfully while the others continued in their pointless cackling. "Scarlet," he said thoughtfully. "That is what I shall call you. So that you always remember this night."
I swear, I was so furious that I cannot remember practically any of the remainder of the night. My mind took over and while I was present in the room, my mind was thinking of a much happier time. I was with my parents and we were all so happy. But now that image was tarnished as blood poured from my Mother's chest and my Father disappeared into a black void.
.
But my Father had not disappeared like I thought.
Around seven months after that night, I was woken in the dead of night.
From past experiences, I considered this to be a bad thing. I was happily mistaken when I saw my beloved Father.
Never before have I embraced someone so tight. "I'm so sorry son," he said over and over while he held me just as tight. Then he quickly snapped back into a determined stated as he told me, "there is no time for that right now. You must come with me and remain completely silent. One noise and we will be caught. Understand?"
I nodded and silently followed. Suddenly I though of Marian, I thought to ask that we could save her too. But my fear overtook this. To this day, I am still ashamed of how I left her. The one thing that got me through that time was her and I cannot believe that I left her alone. Her fate would worsen after my escape. All anger Robin felt at being deceived would go only to her. I have done many a bad thing in my life, but that is the one that I regret the most.
Our escape otherwise proved successful. Outside the manner there was a horse that we quickly mounted and we galloped away.
.
We rode for many a day, stopping seemed out of the question save for the times we allowed the horse a brief rest.
Then those large stone walls came into view as I had my first glimpse of the Northampton school for boys. There I would spend the next seven years. There I would meet you.
But at the time, I had no wish to leave my Father. Having just found him again, the idea terrified me and I wept bitterly. He looked me in the eyes and said, "Will. You are stronger than all of the young boys in that place. You have already been through so much and it has shaped you well. Your Mother would be proud."
This made me weep all the harder but I took the pack he gave me and walked with him to the gates. Master Gamewell was waiting and my Father handed him a large purse which clanked loudly from the movement. It is odd, thinking back, how scared I was of him. If only I had known all of the mischief we would put him through.
Alas dear friend, I am being summoned. I can tell you not what plans lie ahead for fear that this letter is intercepted but know that I may be gone for a great amount of time. At the very most this will be a month.
I must finish this letter now, for fear that someone else in the gang discovers it. Some rather negative things are said towards our leader and it would not reflect well upon me if it were found.
Please let me know if you receive this. If you could, send word back with the messenger I send.
I will let you know more soon. But for now, just know that England desperately needs you.
Yours truly
Will Scarlet