XXVIII

Coming to a Crossroad

Shy was much improved the following morning. The pains she had been experiencing had vanished and the lethargy that had been hanging about her had evaporated, leaving her just as healthy and energetic as she was before the miscarriage. There was still a sorrow written into the gray of her eyes, and when she was not engaged in conversation, her silent contemplations drew a dark cloud over her. She remained in the camp while Guy readied to leave, he insisted upon her conserving her strength for the journey ahead of them. Even though she protested to being treated like an invalid Guy brooked no argument. She was to rest, that was that. So she tried to give herself over to her betrothed's advice. She lay upon a bunk, staring up at the thatched leaves which made up the roof of the camp.

She must have lost herself in her own thoughts, for she was jerked back down to reality by a light tapping upon the wooden post behind her. She rolled over and looked down at Archer. He gave her a friendly wave. "What is it, Archer?"

"How are you feeling?"

"I am well, you asked me that before you left to go to Nottingham, you know. Did you expect me to change in the course of a few hours?" Shy retorted with a light laugh.

"I figure I should be concerned with the well-being of my future sister-in-law," Archer said.

"And you want something from me."

"How did you know?"

"Guy has a habit of tilting his head to the left to avoid my eyes when he wishes to either ask a favor of me, or enquire after something personal. You do the very same thing," Shy said, raising an eyebrow, a grin tugging on her lips.

"That is extraordinary," Archer said, "Can you detect what I'm thinking now? What if I turned slowly to the right and raised my left eyebrow, what do I remind you of then?"

"A great fool," Shy said jabbing his shoulder, "Go on, Archer, you need not dance around the question. Make yourself free to ask me whatever you wish."

"Ah, I'm afraid you might regret saying that, Shy, for I don't believe you will be very obliging. I wanted to ask you about Lord Foster."

The humor in Shy's eyes died. She gave a sigh and righted herself into a seated position, her hands folded in her lap. She straightened up and fixed Archer with a very decided and cold gaze. Archer did not take offense, he realized the look was merely in self-defense so she would not betray her true emotions to him. Shy gave him a small nod, "What is it that you want to know?"

Archer sighed, he had thought she would have refused him. He would not have begrudged her, she had every right to never want to speak of the man or hear his name mentioned ever again, but he was glad she had found the strength to bear his questioning. "I have been in Nottingham all morning seeking any information I could find on Lord Foster. From those who know him, I have only heard that he is exactly what he claims to be: a fair-minded and just ruler. I could find no one willing to contradict this. There were a few people who had lived in Rotherham at one time, so I can not assume that this is merely idle chatter from the excited populace. Clearly those stories do not match with yours. I wanted to ask you about him. His behavior, his ways, anything you are willing to share...if you can, that is."

"No, Archer, you have every right to want to ask me. I know you care about Nottingham. It is only fitting you should learn a little of who your new lord and master is," Shy clenched her hands together in one fist, she kept her eyes trained on her knuckles as they grew steadily whiter. Concentrating on the cracked skin of her hands, and the veins standing out on the pale skin of her wrists mesmerized her into a serenity, allowing her to speak.

"Lord Foster is the cruelest man I have ever known. It is not enough for him to merely inflict pain, it must be done slowly, creatively, and never the same way twice or he gets bored. He enjoys it, honestly I do not believe he can help it, he was made to take pleasure in the pain of others. Anyone in his household knows full well of the monster they serve. He surrounds himself with equally cruel men, the servant girls are only slightly better than whores, but there is only one women he keeps for his darker needs. I have no doubt that there was some poor girl in his keep before me. I do not know what became of her. Sometimes I think that is best. However, to his people he is every inch the just nobleman. The better to continue in his debauched state undisturbed. If his estates are always in order, and his people always content, who will come knocking to check under all those trapdoors? Your people have nothing to fear from him," Shy laughed, squeezing her hands tight.

"I think that we do if Prince John trusts him enough to be his steward in Nottingham. No," Archer mused, "we will plan a way to tumble this Devil from his throne just as we did his predecessor."

"I wish you luck in that with all my heart. Let me know when you have defeated him."

"But of course, we are in the middle of trying to solve how best to defeat such a cunning man," Archer remarked, leaning back against the side of the bunk. He looked up at Shy, "Tuck and I are of the opinion a spy in the household would be the best approach."

Shy nodded, "Yes, it would be, a man who claims to have the same dark tendencies as Foster would be welcome among his guards, but a pretty, young face would be enough to turn his head for as long as you needed. You get a girl into that fortress and she will hear every correspondence passed between Foster and his men. He does not think to curb his tongue around his slaves, for we have no one to pass along our secrets."

"An excellent idea," Archer nodded, "Of course it would be highly dangerous, especially for a woman."

"Very, but if she were capable of defending herself, she might be able to hold off any abusers. She would not escape unscathed though," Shy shuddered, "but she might be able to withstand the worst of punishments. If she were clever, and could figure out Foster and his tastes. She must know how to read a man's face in order to derive what his thoughts are and from there what his actions will be."

"In other words she should be you."

Shy laughed, "Yes, she would..." Shy looked at Archer and his open and pleading expression. Her blood ran cold and she backed away, "you would not dare..."

"No, no I would not dare. I would only ask, would only plead with you. Hasn't this man destroyed enough lives?" Archer clutched her hand in earnest, "Does he not deserve to be destroyed himself? And you have the greatest claim on his life than anyone."

"He will kill me!" Shy hissed, "He will have me tortured endlessly. I tried to kill him! He sold me away, but if he saw me again he'd kill me for the sport of it! No! No, take your mad ideas elsewhere!"

"Very well," Archer raised his hands to show his submission to Shy's will.

At that moment, Guy returned to the camp. He looked far easier than he had since first returning to Nottingham. He gave Shy a smile and offered her his hand to help her down from the bunk. The smile vanished at the controlled look of fear in Shy's eyes. He frowned, turning about to lock eyes with Archer. "What did you say to her?" he accused, noting the guilty expression upon his brother's face.

"Guy, calm yourself, you're going to make a hasty judgement against me and I-"

"What did you say to her?" Guy said drawing out each word with a slow, rumbling growl.

"Merely asked her about Lord Foster. We need information on him, that is all...and the issue of getting someone close enough to his encampment in order to know of his correspondence with Prince John." Archer flinched, fancying for a moment that Guy was going to strangle him on the spot.

Guy stared at Archer incredulously, his mouth frozen in a thin line. His voice was soft when he began to speak, "Are you...out of your mind?" He slammed his hand against the wooden side of the bunk, "What would possess you to ask such a thing of Shy?"

Shy placed a hand upon Guy's shoulder, "It is all right, I refused. He did not pressure me further, you can not blame him for trying."

"You'll find I am more than capable of blaming him," Guy said, "Do you not realize the danger you would be placing her in?" He told Archer, "By God, being among these outlaws has made you lose your common sense. You really have taken this charade of playing Robin Hood too far, brother. He also had a talent for understanding the danger of a situation, but never the insight to understand the danger he placed all those he professed to care for in!"

"Better to want to do something to change the world then run and hide from it!" Archer said defensively.

"Stop!" Shy cried, "Stop it, the both of you. Archer, I know how much it would mean to assure the safety of Nottingham, and Guy, thank you for being my defender in all things, but there is no reason for this to escalate further. I have refused. Let it end there, if you please."

"Fine," Guy conceded, "Come, Shy," he offered her his hand once again, "let us get you home and away from these madmen."

"Oh, let us not be so harsh. Ambitious, eager, and loyal men I would say, certainly not mad. In fact it all reminds me of someone," She hopped down from the bunk and walked with Guy out past the awning of the camp.

"Woman, your jests would put swords to shame."

Shy snickered, Guy's face was still darkened with pent-up anger and her light taunting was only adding to his mounting frustration. She raised herself up onto the tips of her feet and kissed his cheek. Guy turned his face away, muttering darkly under his breath. This only proved an encouragement. She kissed him twice over, until he tilted his head in her direction, a rueful smirk on his face. "Yet I suppose you have qualities which make up for that."

"Wait!" Archer called out from behind them as he along with the rest of the gang came to stand outside the camp.

Guy sighed, "I can not abide lengthy farewells, Archer. What is it that you want?"

"A last minute proposition, and one I believe you can afford me," Archer said, "Please, come back and we will talk."

"I can not afford needless delays."

"You can give me a few moments. It will not put you behind by long."

Guy at last gave his reluctant consent, Archer was pleased, "Good, then while you and I have our little chat, Shy can accompany the others as they make their usual rounds through Locksley, the villagers will be expecting them."

Guy looked ready to protest this, but Shy stopped him, "I do not mind. Besides, if I am to be riding all day, I will enjoy the moment of exercise," she winked at Guy. "We can leave when I return."

Seeing that Shy was fine with this arrangement gave Guy leave to speak with Archer at his ease. Even if he did not always agree with the gang or even like them, he did trust them enough to know that Shy would be kept perfectly safe while under their watch. He walked with Archer back to the camp, glancing over his shoulder for a moment to see Shy depart with the rest of the gang.


"Why did Archer need to speak to Guy alone?" Shy asked Tuck. "Surely anything he had to tell him could have been said in front of me."

"It is not my place to say," Tuck said.

"Unless it was about me," Shy gave an overly dramatic gasp, "Gracious, they're whispering about me behind my back aren't they? Horrible, I'll have to give them what for when we get back."

"You have a rather fond opinion of yourself, don't you, Shy?" Tuck asked, clearing aside the thick foliage

Shy laughed, "Perhaps. I do deserve it though. When I see all the directions my life could have gone—why should I not praise myself?"

"And when was the last time you gave anyone else such praise and consideration?"

Shy paused, raising an eyebrow at Tuck, "You think to preach to me?"

"He's terribly good at it," Much muttered to her, "No use backing out now, he'll use all his fancy words to trick you into saying exactly what he wants you to."

"Oh really?" Shy said with a sly drawl, "Well, go on then, preach away, I'm safe enough in my own views not to feel offended. I can only imagine what you have to say about me next."

"You want to hear what I truly have to say to you?" Tuck asked.

"Please," Shy gestured. She sprang up onto a fallen log and balanced upon it for a stretch.

"Very well. I find you to be a selfish and cold human being with no concern for the well being of anyone else but yourself and behind those finely crafted words of yours you are no better than a child clawing at the last vestiges of light before the door shuts and leaves you in the dark. No one's achievements are greater than your own, no one has suffered or ever will suffer as much as you and therefore other people are hardly worth considering. Is that apt enough, or shall I continue?"

Shy nearly overbalanced from the log, but she landed on her feet, dusting off her dress she cleared her throat, her cheeks reddening at Tuck's words. She heard Kate laughing quietly into her hand. "And all this in only two days? I shudder to think what you would have to say about me if you knew me for a week."

"Still only petty jokes, Shy?"

"I do not have to defend myself to you," Shy shrugged, "Besides, if I am as selfish as you say, how is it that I have found myself engaged to another man?"

"Ah, that is no great mystery. Guy is almost as selfish as you are, both of you would be happy to blot the entire world out of existence if you could."

"Perhaps I am happy in my selfishness. I have a right to it, it does not hurt anyone."

"Only yourself," Tuck said.

Shy fell silent, not wanting to give into Tuck's words, for she was beginning to see what Much meant. He was frightfully good at dragging her down into this cyclical conversation. What reason did she have to continue? Tuck did not know of her past, he could not understand. If she was cold it was because she had to be, if she was selfish it's because the world made her that way. Only a very few people had ever manged to create enough cracks in her armor in order to reach for the soft and the warm human inside. It was not for everyone that she displayed such frailty.

"We're here," Tuck announced, handing Shy a satchel containing food and a few good shillings. "We go from house to house handing these out. Perhaps you will learn a little something of kindness."

Shy slung the satchel over her shoulder. "And perhaps I already understand more than you would like to think about the important work you do here."

They made their way into the village, but the sight which greeted them was far from what they had been expecting. All about the village road soldiers garbed in the colors of Lord Foster's household. They went about unarmed and were gathering up the villagers into the square. "We have to leave!" Shy demanded as soon as she spotted them.

Tuck gave her arm a hard tug, urging her to sink down behind the bushes with the others. "No, running will not make them disappear. We wait and see how to react."

"What care I for how to react? If they see me they will capture me!"

"And if you run they will do the same to others," Tuck hissed. "Patience."

Shy fell silent and watched the soldiers mill about through the village. She had not noticed before in her panic just who exactly they were leading out to the square. Women of ages ranging from the very young to those in their prime were standing out in a line before the soldiers. Their hands were not tied and they did not appear to have been lead there under threat of violence. The women and girls stood patiently looking up at the soldiers, some with almost eager faces.

"Single file line," A soldier shouted, "Those who meet the proper requirements will be given the position of serving in Lord Foster's household."

Shy felt the words echo like a clap of thunder. "God defend us," she whispered, "Oh God..."

"What is it?" Much asked the stricken woman.

"Those poor fools, do they not realize? No, no they would not, of course, how could they?" Shy continued to rant to herself without care of being understood. John gave her a slight shake which was enough to bring her back to reality. "Those women, they are not being offered a position in the household. Look, would you consider a child as young as some of those are for the job of a servant? Foster is looking for a slave. He is looking for a slave and those girls are going willingly without knowing!"

"What do we do?" Much asked of Tuck.

"There's too many of the soldiers, we'd be outnumbered if we took a stand openly," Tuck shook his head at the sight. "We need to go back to the camp and get Archer, perhaps if we follow the men back to Nottingham we'd have a greater chance of freeing the women."

"You mean you're just going to let Foster take those girls?" Shy could have shouted if she did not think it would bring the soldiers down around their heads.

"Does that disturb you Shy? The potential suffering of others?"

"This isn't time for your philosophical questions over my morality!" Shy rose to her feet, "I'm going to free them. If you want to stop me..." she charged out of hiding and ran towards the village.

"Shy!" Kate shouted after her.

Tuck laughed, "What are you all waiting for. Go! You heard the woman!"

"That was a trick?" Much exclaimed, drawing his sword and giving chase with the others, "You told us to retreat in hopes she'd do the opposite?"

"A little risk is always necessary."

"You're mad, d'you know that? Stark raving mad!"

Shy was running down the hillside, a shrill scream left her throat in a mocking imitation of a battle cry. The soldiers looked up to see her and the rest of the gang charging after them. "That's the one!" A soldier cried, pointing at her, "That's the one who broke Marcus' arm!"

The soldier who had given the original order for the woman to group out in the square turned his horse about to stare at the intruder. He smiled, "Well, little Shy! My it certainly has been a while."

"Let those girls go!" Shy shouted.

The man laughed, "Pay no attention to her," he told the villagers, "This one's mad. She tried to kill Lord Foster. Stay clear of her."

"They lie," Tuck spoke out, "She stands with me and Robin Hood."

"Arrest them!"

"Run! Get back to your homes, go now!" She roared to the girls, who gave a scream of fright as a skirmish broke out between Foster's guards and Robin Hood's gang. They scattered and headed back towards their homes.

The soldier on horseback struck a glancing blow to Shy's shoulder, momentarily stunning her. He managed to snatch up one of the younger girls and throw her over his saddle. He took off into the forest. Shy chased after him, retreating in time before the other soldiers overwhelmed her. The gang followed her. John grabbed Shy and pulled her off the main path to avoid the arrows that the soldiers had started to shoot at them.

"He's got the girl!" Shy shouted, "He's got the girl, we have to stop him!"

"Stop struggling," John said, "Tuck? What do we do now?"

Panting, Tuck tried to lay out a half concocted plan. "If we hurry we can catch him off guard at the crossroads. He's on his own now, we have a chance."

They took off through the forest path, using trails that were too narrow for the fully armed soldiers to follow. The sound of hoofbeats was not far off, and they kept up with the sound until a clearing came into view and the crossroads diverged the main road running alongside them. The gang split into two groups: Little John, and Much went to the left road and Kate, Tuck, and Shy stayed on the right. As the soldier rode up, they stepped out from the trees, blocking either route.

"Release the child," Shy called out.

"Or what? You'll kill me? Lord Foster will hunt you down for murdering one of his own men, you know that," the soldier spat. His bravado did not last. He was not a fool. He could see he was outnumbered and the rest of his men were busy either catching up or taking care of the mess these outlaws had made in the village. "If you let me pass, I won't tell my lord of your whereabouts, on my honor."

"On your honor is it?" Shy snarled, "Here is what I think of your honor," she unsheathed her dagger and sent it spinning towards the soldier. It lodged itself in the small opening of his armor between his shoulder and neck. The man screamed, his horse reared up in fright at the sound and at the smell of blood. The girl was flung from the saddle, but before she could hit the ground, Little John managed to catch her.

The soldier pulled the dagger out, letting it fall onto the ground. He pressed a hand to the wound, his face distorted in agony. "You little bitch," he hissed at Shy. "When my lord Foster hears of this he will have your head!"

Tuck's club was next to be thrown at the soldier. It connected with the man's head with a resounding crack. His eyes rolled upwards in their sockets and he slipped from the saddle, landing at an angle that snapped his neck, although he was already dead before he hit the ground, killed by Tuck's well-aimed blow. "I was growing tired of him," he said.

Ignoring the body of the soldier, Shy went over to the girl. The child could not have been more than eleven years of age. She was perched up on Little John's shoulders, her hands covering her eyes from the grizzly sight of the fresh corpse. "Hi there," Shy called.

John set the girl back down and she looked up at Shy, she recoiled at the sight of her. "The soldiers said you were mad!"

"Well," Shy knelt down so that she could speak to the girl at eye-level, "Sometimes the soldiers can be wrong. Are you all right?"

The girl nodded, "Yes, I think so."

"That's good. What's your name?"

"Nel. Wh-what were the soldiers going to do to me?"

"Never you mind about that, Nel," Shy said, "They won't bother you ever again. Who do you have back home waiting for you?"

"My mum and dad, and my baby brother," her face crinkled in a smile, "He was looking forward to having our bed all to himself. He's not going to like that I've come back."

Shy laughed, feeling her throat tighten. "I'm sure they'll all be pleased to see you again."

"I'll take her back to her parents," Kate volunteered, coming forward to take the child by the hand.

Nel released Kate for a moment to give Shy a small hug, "Thank you. I didn't really like how those soldiers were treating me. Don't think you're mad at all."

Shy stood awkwardly, her arms half around the child. She patted her upon the back. "There now," she said, "G-g-go on home."

Nel gave them all a wave and she and Kate went back to Locksley together. Shy stood staring off after the child, her eyes closing as she disappeared, fighting back the rush of tears. If only she had been so fortunate herself to have had someone come along and stop the soldiers from picking her out of the marketplace that day in Rotherham. How happier her life! How simpler!

"You see how our actions can shape the lives of others?" Tuck said, standing alongside her. "You are capable of great acts of kindness Shy, I do not think you hate people as much as you say."

"Foster's men will be back," Shy croaked out. "He won't stop."

"What shall be done about that?" Tuck said, this time merely voicing his thoughts aloud.

Shy turned to him, her eyes hard, "You are going to take me to Nottingham. I will be your spy in his camp. I am going to destroy him."


A/N: *Insert evil laughter here*