The men stared at me for open mouths.

"Come again?" The little on finally stuttered.

"I kill people for the King," I repeated.

"Kill, as in, dead?" He stammered.

"No, kill as in inviting them to tea," I retorted. He shut his mouth again.

"I'm not being funny," the redhead said, "But isn't that wrong?" I raised my eyebrows.

"Why?" I asked. "I kill people who would endanger the safety of our King and our country. My actions keep others safe."

"Still," he said. "That's not right."

"Listen, do you want my help or not?" I demanded. "I'm going to kill the Sheriff, with or without you. It's your choice whether you want to get your man, too."

"He's not our man," the small one objected. "Robin is the one-" he broke off, and looked around. "Where is Robin?"

"Smaller man, wearing a green hood?" I asked. The three of them nodded in unison. "He galloped off on a horse a few minutes ago." They looked at each other, and the spun around and ran over to a corral of horses. I grinned, and followed.

"You know the forest well," I said about an hour later. We had picked up Robin's trail, and now followed him through the woods at a slower pace, giving him a safe distance.

"We live here, don't we?" The redhead said, laughing.

"Some of us more than others," the small man muttered. The redhead glared and opened his mouth, but I cut him off.

"You're outlaws?" I asked. "And you said I was wrong for killing people."

"Look, we don't kill no one," the redhead objected. "We help the poor. Steal from the rich and spread their wealth so the villagers can pay their taxes."

"What do you do to the people that you steal from?" I asked.

"Nothing."

"So you let them live to keep doing exactly what they were doing before. Very effective plan."

"Haven't you heard of us?" the small man asked. I raised my eyebrows. "We are the men of the hood," he said. "Living outside the law, helping Robin save the poor."

"We are Robin Hood," the giant man growled.

"So, you're all Robin Hood?" They nodded. "Got other names as well?"

"I'm Allan a'Dale," the redhead said. "That, is Much," he gestured to the small man. "And the big man is Little John." I grinned.

"Little John?" He shrugged. "Well, anyway, my name's Shaelyn. But call me Shae, or we might have a problem."

"Shae it is," Allan agreed. "So, how'd you even get here?"

"On your boat. You know, you really need to increase your security measures."

"Why did you come?" Much asked.

"King Richard sent me," I said truthfully. "I think he thought I could help you. That and-" I broke off as an image of Carter flashed through my mind. "I just needed to get away for a little," I finished. Allan's eyebrows raised, but the other two just nodded and continued on. Allan let the other men progress a few paces, dropping back to ride next to me.

"So," he said easily.

"What?" I snapped.

"Well, I'm not blind, am I? I've seen that look before. You didn't leave the Holy Land just because the King asked you to," he said knowingly.

"And?"

"And I'm just sayin', you can talk about it if you want. I'm a good listener." I didn't say anything. "Just sayin', that's all," he repeated, and kicked his horse into a trot to catch up with Much and Little John. I sighed to myself, and gave my horse a pat. I would have to work on keeping my emotions in check if he could read my expressions that easily.

I hadn't had a friend in years, someone that I could talk to openly. There was Carter, but he had been different. I couldn't remember the last time that someone had asked me to open up to them like that. As I had grown up I had learned to keep my feelings inside me, bundling them tightly and storing them far out of reach. If no one could see them, then no one could use them to hurt me.

Somewhere along the line, I had stopped feeling altogether. I guess it was necessary, with the things that I had been doing. Carter had brought some of these feelings out of me, especially after he had come back from England. He had confided in me about the death of his brother, and helping him had softened me somehow, bringing me back to humanity. But then he died.

The men were wary of me, but who could blame them. I had hidden for weeks on their boat, and then introduced myself as an assassin. Looking back, that may not have been the smartest idea. They kept glancing back at me, as if they were nervous that I would jump them from behind at any moment. I could see it in their eyes.

Except for Allan. He was different. When he looked back at me he didn't try to hide it, and his face held a mixture of concern and pity. I couldn't decide if I should be touched, or infuriated. He didn't know me, he didn't know anything about me, and yet here he was, judging me, classifying me as a sad, broken girl. Even if I was, it still wasn't fair. He didn't know me. Nobody knew me.