Two

Will Scarlet

A day's and a half's walk and I was deep within the forest of Sherwood, where any other boy may have been frightened, but I walked with ease knowing the woodlands to be my friend. My sisters cheerily talked behind me, babbling about how everything was so beautiful. The eldest at ten, Isobel looked like my mother, with soft features and long, dark hair, she looked like royalty in a burlap sack. Roana, who was only eight, had crimson colored hair and the sharper features of her father. As we walked birds chirped, little animals played, and my merry boots made their way along the path. I saw from my dark eyes for the first time the mighty Sherwood Forest.

The land had been untouched for many years, the legends said, and the high trees attested to the truths of the rumors. The dense forest provided little room to move, but I was good at tracking and found my way as the deer among the narrow trails. "Roana! Isobel!" I called for my sisters. "Try to keep up!"

"We're coming Will!" Isobel retorted, taking Roana's hand and tugging her through the brush.

Deeper and deeper I journeyed into the forest, the brush moving closer, the midday sun dimming through the thick leaves.

Soon enough I knew to be frightened, the hairs on my back rising when I suspected to be watched—by wolf or wild man I knew not, but the darkness of the forest made me even more uneasy. I would not show my fear for my sisters. Now and then I heard a large tree limb groan beneath the weight of a hidden observer or the crack of a twig far off. I would linger for a second often, trying to decipher the sounds of the forest.

Birds no longer sang gaily, but instead they seemed to be whistling warnings of my approach. "A boy in a scarlet cloak," the birds seemed to whisper, "he comes in here like he owns the wood!"

Had it not been for the thought of my mother, I might have turned heel and run out of that damned forest, but I kept going. My uncle, Robert Earl of Locksley, was here and by hell or high water I would find the man and drag him back to Mother if need be!

Thankfully I had enough sense to be watching ahead of my feet, for I may have spied a tree root instead of the adder that sprung forth at me. In an instant I was able to jump back, the adder dissatisfied and hissing at me, preparing to strike again.

With nothing to defend me, I only slowly moved away without much thought. My sisters were far enough behind me not to notice the adder and called for me. Suddenly a hollow sound fluttered through the air and in a moment the adder was struck down, square between the eyes and nailed to the forest floor by a lovely arrow, tipped in green feathers. "Jesus have mercy…"

"You there!"

I jumped at the call and turned to where the voice came from, but it seemed to come from everywhere and no man I saw in sight. My sisters were now frightened and ran to me for safety, crowding me. Could it have been the Green Man? The stories true? Or one of the fay to trick me and take me to a land beyond?

The boisterous voice came again, louder and closer. "Yes, boy, I mean you."

"Aye," I turned to the direction of the speaker, but still saw nothing, "I heard you, good sir."

This time the voice seemed to mock me, making fun of my fright as a few snickers emitted from the foliage. Roana and Isobel shivered as I kept them close to me. "And who might you be, wandering in my forest without permission or welcome in that scarlet cloak of yours?"

Swallowing back my fear, I answered bravely. "I am William Scathelocke."

"Come to blind me with that red attire you wear." The man sighed, annoyed with me already. "State your purpose."

"I come to find Robert Earl of Locksley."

Just then I heard a rush of wind and a slight tremble beneath my feet. When I spun round I was facing a tall man, wearing green leather, the very color of the forest itself, and a hood covered his head, but a few sandy locks of hair peeked out. The man's eyes were a great water blue, much brighter than Mother's, but there was a twinkle in them—a merriment and charm.

With his fists on his hips and his head tilted, the man posed his question. "And why do you beseech this Robert?"

"It is not William who calls for him, but our mother." Little Roana replied bravely, the least intimidated by this lean, yet well built fellow. "She wishes to see her brother one last time before her death."

"Brother?" Asked the man in bewilderment. "The last of Robert's family died many years ago."

"Aye, or so she thought, too," I felt it easier to speak when the man was taken by surprise, "but when she heard rumor of her brother still living, in this very forest, she sent me…well, my sisters and I, forth to find him so I might bring him home to bid farewell to my mother."

For a moment the man regarded me—he was not all that much older than I, but he was a grown man and he seemed to have a faint recognition in me. "The Lady Rhian of Locksley lives?"

"She is Rhian Scathelocke now."

"So she is." The man gave a nod, the wheels turning in his mind. "And you say she is your mother?"

"Aye."

"Then we are kin." A broad grin crossed the man's lips, not in mockery, but in a tender, assuring nature. "Will you take shelter with us, nephew? And what of you, my little ladies, will you take shelter as well?"

Had I been a boy of Nottingham, I may have considered the honor great and well, but since I was simple woods folk and foolish, I knew nothing of Robert's new life. "I must return to my mother. Her time is short and she wilts fast."

Robert's face grew grim and he nodded. "Then forth shall we go, to the home of Scathelocke to bid farewell to my ailing sister." With that, Robert turned about. "Little John!"

A far off bellow came. "Aye!"

"Keep a keen eye on Sherwood!" Robert called. "Will! You must come with me!"

Robert looked to me then. "I am no longer Robert, boy, they call me Robin Hood these days. I look after this forest and Nottingham since our dear King Richard has gone on crusade and his fool of a brother John has taken his place to tax us to hell and back. Mary have mercy!"

Soon a young man appeared, short and dark eyed, the young man was not much older than myself, but seemed a world more welcome in this forest. In our home in the forest, I had never seen a noble soul pass, asking for money. Perhaps only those in the town were being taxed. "Ladies," Robin leaned forward, a broad grin on his gentle face, "will you be so kind as to join Little John and my band of rogues whilst your older brother and I return to your mother?"

My sisters glanced at each other and then up at me with expectation. "Perhaps it is better they stay here." I agreed, clearing my throat. "But I'd much rather them come with us."

"Nonsense, they will be safer here," Robin retorted, making the decision for me, "go on, ladies, go with the large man behind you. He won't hurt you."

The pair turned to see Little John and marveled at him. "You are in no sense of the word 'little'." Roana said as Isobel tried to hush her.

Little John just laughed. "Come along, girls, do you like pretty flowers? I know a place where you can find dozens of them!"

Soon Robin Hood, Will Stutely, and I were on our way from Sherwood and even though the day should have dimmed, it got brighter as we went further from Sherwood and off into the spacious forest of my home.

Each man was quiet, each forever looking over their shoulder and Stutely seemed to jump at every sound the forest gave. The walk was fast, Robin Hood knew a faster was through the forest, insisting we may be spotted on the road. Spotted for what I knew not, only the way home.

The shortcut took off a half a day's walk, but we bedded down for one night and continued the next morning. When we were just in sight of the wee cottage, Robin froze still ahead of me.

"What—"

A hand clasped over my mouth and I froze to see movement in the house. There were voices, too, talking. "What you find?"

"Nothing." A cold tone snapped. "Just scraps and a dying wench."

"I wouldn't touch the food if I were you."

"Well aren't you the brilliant one?" Hissed the voice, reminding me of the hidden adder I had encountered only the day before. "The lot of you is dumber than those dogs you keep."

"Sheriff!"

"Aye?"

A man came from the house. "What should we do with the lady?"

"She's no good to me this time," said the Sheriff coldly—even his form reminded me of a serpent, "I'll put her out of her misery."

I moved, but was trapped by strong hands as they pulled me beneath brush to hide. Robin gazed at me, his blue eyes serious and calm. "Do not move."

My mother was in there! He was going to kill her! Suddenly Robin rose, he drew an arrow from his green quiver, that may has well have been a hump on his back it was so well disguised. On his bow, green as him, Robin pulled the string taught against the feathers, and after only a moment, Robin released the bowstring.

In moments, one of the men gave a pained cry and fell back. Robin turned and signaled to Will and I. Will helped me to my feet and gestured for me to follow him and I did.

The sheriff was perturbed. "What's going on out there?"

"Scouts!"

"Fairy!"

"Goddamn it all!" Cursed the sheriff, stalking from the cottage. "Don't just stand there! Find the hunter and kill him!"

"But—"

The guard dropped dead, Robin had struck again. The sheriff glanced into the forest, his eyes were black as coals, narrowing as if he could see through the brush itself. "Ride!" Shouted the sheriff, running to his mount. "We've no time to waste in this trash!"

And the riders left, but we never moved, Will and I, until Robin appeared. Will saw him first, for I was blind to the forest with Robin's great disguise. "Are you all right?" Robin asked, examining me.

"Yes," I replied hastily, "I need to get to my mother."

Robin watched as I ran inside of the cottage, but when I entered I was too late. My mother lay dead upon the small cot she lay on with no mortal wound. Moving toward Mother, I reached for her, touching her face first…but it was cold and lifeless now. I felt a fire within me burn.

A hand lay on my shoulder. "She is in a better place…may God bless her."

Robin then moved forward, placed a loving kiss on my mother's forehead, and then knelt to her side in prayer. Will gave a nod of grief. Soon Robin rose and turned to me. "Have you anywhere to go?"

I thought for a moment—perhaps the miller. No, he had too many children—or even the Wood Mother, but she only came now and then and I had no idea where I could come about her. All others were sure to turn me away. "No, good sir."

"First," said Robin, "we will give your mother a proper burial and you will come to live with me, in Sherwood. I will look upon you as not a son, but a brother, since we are so close in age. Will you join my merry men and I, William Scathelocke?"

"Aye." I gave a nod, trying to keep back my tears and show my gratitude. "I will, Uncle, but I am not a Scathelocke for I am the son of a man I have never known. I cannot be called by a false name."

"And so you shan't." Robin agreed. "From this day forth you will be known as Will Scarlet, for that is what you wear and it suits you well."

I smiled at the sound of it—Will Scarlet. I would bear the name with pride, for it was my very own.