Part 8
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The following morning the grey clouds and summer rain had passed, and the day looked to be bright and fair. There was a gentle breeze but the temperature was warm at just after dawn. The youngest four Locksley children ran out of the house after breakfast, down to the edge of the forest. They were led by Marcus, who was really outgrowing playing outlaws, but he still liked to 'lord' it over the younger ones, Emma at seven followed, almost a mirror image of Constance. Edward the youngest son was next, followed by the baby of the family, Abigail who resembled in appearance their mother as a child with the exception of her eyes.
Edward turned at the last moment and halted young Abigail in her tracks. "You are not coming." He told her forcefully.
"I am," she replied, stamping her five year old foot on the ground firmly.
"No you are just a baby. You can't come to the camp. You stay here where Mother can keep her eyes on you. Where it is safe?"
"I am coming! You can't leave me behind." She insisted and moved to run past him, but he being twice her age was faster and he shoved her back. She landed with a thud in a puddle which resided from yesterday's rain. Her tears of indignation of not being big enough mingled with the water of the puddle, as defiantly she made up her mind she would not be left behind.
---
Abigail thought that she could keep up with them. She knew the general direction of the camp, she had been there before. Usually with one of her parents to lead and guide her, not to mention carry her on the long walk back. Following the sounds of children's voices she skipped along, even though they did not sound quite like that of her siblings and they drew her deeper and deeper into the forest. So that one tree looked as much the same as another, and very soon she was lost in the vastness of foliage and green undergrowth.
The voices soon belonged to bodies, and they were bodies she did not recognise. They belonged to a group of ragamuffin children aged between ten and fourteen years old, although that was lost on her. Suddenly her inner strength has deserted her small frame and she was quivering inside like jelly.
"What's this then?" One boy said, as he spotted her walk into their circle.
"Here what's this?" a girl, just as rough as the boy asked, and picked out a pretty hairpin from Abigail's wavy tendrils.
Abigail tried to snatch it back, but the children threw it from one to the other, until Abigail was quite dizzy and totally disorientated.
"What'ya doing out by yourself. A girl like you shouldn't be left wandering round the forest like this." The first boy spoke again.
Abigail frowned at him, she didn't know what to say and other than crying, frowning seemed her better option. They taunted her again waving the hairpin, a recent birthday gift from her elder sister Constance, once more in her face quite literally before snatching it away and running off, the forest closing in around them.
Abigail turned a full circle, as the tears fell silently down her cheeks. To sit down and sob like she wanted to was giving in and would be admitting defeat. And if there was one thing a Locksley did not do, it was that. No matter how scared, or tired, or small or frightened they were.
With a sigh that made all Much's huffing and puffing seem insignificant she opted for the opposite route to that the ruffians had chosen. This choice was mainly as she had no desire to run into them again, even by accident. Trouble was, it took her deeper into the forest and all the secrets it held within.
---
At six o'clock that evening, Marcus, Edward and Emma walked through the door, just in time for supper. Constance and Tristan were already there along with Robin and Much. Marian came through the door from the kitchen carrying a platter.
As she laid it on the table she asked. "Where is Abigail?"
The trio who had just arrived looked blankly at their mother, wondering what she was talking about. Hadn't Abigail spent the day under their mother's skirts?
"You took her with you to the camp." Robin prompted, as if they needed some reminding of the wonderful day of freedom they had shared.
Marcus shook his head slowly and replied. "No. She did not come."
"When she left this morning it was with you." Much inserted, he was beginning to worry now and she wasn't his child to be concerned about.
"No…" Emma muttered. "She did not come along."
"Then where is she?" Marian asked softly, but with an anguish which tore at everyone's souls.
Edward sat there feeling very uncomfortable, his good sense of reason was telling him now was the time to own up and say he had been mean. Told her she was too small to accompany them and left her on the edge of the forest, just outside the village. But the look in his parents eyes made his other side think differently and as the seconds ticked by he let the moment of admission pass.
"Forget supper," Marian said, and nodded to the serving maid to take it back to the kitchen. It would not be wasted, they could all eat later.
Much looked sadly as the food disappeared the way it had entered the room and the rumble in his stomach, did not dispel the emptiness and hunger pangs which lingered there.
They formed into two groups; Tristan, Constance and Marcus, and Robin, Marian, Edward and Much. Which left Emma at the house with the servants as she was considered at seven too young, they did not need any more lost children, one was enough.
Tristan took his group to the houses within the village itself while Robin prepared to lead his group into the forest. Much thought it was a bit like old times, with the gang. Not that there was a gang anymore. Some of the gang had passed away and the remaining members seemed to have their own lives. He could not remember the last time they had gotten together as a group.
He looked up to see a tender moment between man and wife, a wave of loneliness crept into his soul. The palm of Robin's hand caressed Marian cheek as he reassured her that Abigail would be found safe and well. But they knew in their hearts as did Much, that might not be the case at all.
