Twisted Justice
Chapter 3…Lord Kale of Avonsleigh
Robin slid soundlessly through the shadows. Kale, much to her surprise, and annoyance, knew how to move undetected. Why she begrudged him this she had no idea. It made her job easier.
When he stopped a meter or so away, Robin halted, too. She mightn't like him, but while they had a common enemy, she could tolerate him.
"False alarm." He told her, with a small half-smile. He was speaking somewhere to her left, not being able to pinpoint her location.
"Better safe than sorry." She recited her mother's favorite saying, started forwards again.
When they reached the camp—It was spelled so Robin could see past the protective circles—she shook awake one of the guards, none too gently, whispering to him about enemy soldiers and cold knives.
Satisfied he wouldn't fall asleep until his next watch, Robin sent him to get a mage to make an opening in the circle.
Leading the surprised Kale into the camp, she passed him onto another man, asking him to see to a tent and food for their newest member.
She then sought out John.
"Little John!" She called, grinning. It was early morning, and he was sitting at a fire, a bowl of soup in large, competent hands.
"Hey there Robin." He sent her an easy smile. "Grab some soup and tell us why you're alone." She saw worry glittering in his brown eyes, or she might've teased him a little.
Doing as bid, she told them about Travis, and Lord Kale. When she was done, John was quiet for a moment, then said, "so he assumes he can just walk on in there and 'Lord' Finn will just…give it up?" Because he's a noble?"
"He didn't hesitate to slaughter the rest of the Avonsleigh nobles." Someone put in.
Robin ducked her head, pretending fatigue. She didn't want to be present when they discussed the first time the mercenaries had rode in.
"I'm going to go catch some shut-eye before we have the meeting." She told John, not having to fake a yawn.
"See ya then, Robin." He turned back to the tale unfolding before him, one they were all familiar with, yet never stopped repeating.
She stood in the center of the clearing. Men sat on the ground, lounged in trees, or against them, talking amongst themselves. It was the whole camp.
At her side stood John, her other side stood Tuck, a former acolyte for the Mithran Temple. The group affectionately referred to him as "the good Friar".
Kale stood to one side of John, looking noble even in the plain clothes he wore. He was a striking man, almost primitive. His jaw was square, dark stubble covering it. His eyes were a delicate hazel, eyebrows heavy, giving him a permanently brooding look. Robin guessed his age to be somewhere in the mid-twenties, but even now he had faint, delicate scars cris-crossing across his face.
"Who's in charge?" He called over the gentle noise.
Someone pointed vaguely in Robins direction. He looked at John, raised an eyebrow in that infuriatingly elegant way of his. "Bit young, aren't you, lad?" He said dryly.
John grinned at him, not an entirely pleasant grin, either. "Robin's in charge. I'm second." He told the lord.
Only his eyes showed surprise when he looked at the willowy youngster. "Got a problem with that, yer lordship?" Someone asked, threateningly.
Robin held up her hand, calling for silence. "Lord Kale was unaware of my…status." She said, soothingly. "Can you blame him for it?"
Someone snorted. "Only if he hasn't seen you shoot, track, or climb." He said, under his breath.
"How did you get to be leader?" He asked, challengingly. "What right do you have to command these men?"
Robin's hawk-like face darkened slightly. She stepped towards him, lent to whisper in his ear. "Challenge me away from my men, lord. Don't mistake me for a soft lady."
He shifted, looking her in the eye, totally unreadable. "Fine. Tell me what happened to the Fief."
"Mercenaries came." Someone said. "Killed the nobles, mostly all the townsfolk. Them who live still aren't free. Slaves, they are, with masters as cruel as they come." He spat. "Lord Finn has more'n sixty men, war-hardened and cold killers. That's aside from the patrols huntin' us." He looked at Robin. "His doin' we're still alive at all. Finer instincts I've not seen in my years."
Lord Kale looked at Robin. Then the men gathered. "How many of you?" He asked shortly.
"Twenty four." Robin told him. "Not enough."
"Are there any unguarded ways into the Fief?"
"No." Robin told him, flatly. There was…it was a lie. But it was suicide without at least double their number, and Robin had, if nothing else, a healthy sense of self-preservation. "We've no option other than the quick, hit-and-run attacks. Even with a hundred men, we'd have trouble getting past the walls."
"I'll contact the palace mages soon, then. More men will be on their way within a few days."
"For now we'll keep up our system." Robin told them, taking over. "I've heard there'll be another ambush needing to be planned tomorrow, so rest well." With a half-smile, she watched in silence as the men all stood to leave. John stayed back with her and Kale.
"Don't ever question Robin in front of the men." John rounded on him, eyes glittering. "Whether you're a noble or a commoner means nothing here.
"I do believe Robin will stand up for—himself." Kale told him, standing taller. "If you don't mind, I'd like to clear up a few matters with Robin." When John didn't budge, he said icily "in private."
John opened his mouth to say, I do mind! But Robin grabbed his arm, sending him a scolding look. "I fight my own battles." She told him angrily. "Or don't you believe I can?"
He looked at her for a long moment. "I won't be far." He told her. Sending a look full of malicious promise to Kale, he left quietly.
"Don't." Robin held up her hand to stop him from speaking. Something about this man got under her skin. She wasn't a cruel person, and didn't enjoy inflicting pain.
Yet she would love to hurt him.
"I want to make one thing clear. I am the leader here. Questioning me in front of my men is not only rude and stupid, it also plants doubts in their minds. Men fight well when they have unflagging faith. I have that."
"Let me make one thing clear, girl." He said quietly. "I have the rank, the king behind me. The fief is mine. These men, the pitiful resistance are mine. Don't stand between me and my belongings."
"You arrogant pig." Robin said quietly. "Don't expect me to save you next time."
"And don't count on my help again." He told her quietly.
"I lead these men until they say otherwise." She resisted the urge to strike him. "You're new, here. I've forgiven you once. I'll overlook this time. Next time, your out by yourself."
She turned to leave, temper bring a glow to her cheeks and a light to her eyes.
He watched her go, wondering. How could someone of common birth have such… confidence? Arrogance. Maybe it was just the way she walked. The pride, the stead fast, unflagging surety of her position.
She'd do even Queen Thayet proud. Lord Kale thought, a touch savagely. The bearing of a queen, the soul of a pacifist, the heart of a fighter.
Disgusted at the thoughts, he turned and walked towards his tent.
Kale, tired and ravenous, was up with the sun the next day. He found the group gathered. Each man—and Robin, he thought, with some amusement—carried a bow, a full quiver of arrows, and a hunting knife.
"Whats going on?" He asked. It hadn't meant to come out as an order. By the look on John's face, it did.
"We're going to get our hands dirty, thin out the ranks a little." Robin told him coolly, her tone impersonal and uncaring. "Care to join us?"
He looked her over, noting the way she held the men's attention easily, the way she positioned herself unconsciously, her body language.
A wolfish gleam lit cold eyes. "Love to." He said shortly. He couldn't remember seeing her shooting the men in the clearing. He'd been too stunned by the way she'd dealt with the death of one of her men. Now, he'd get to see her in action.
Robin saw the gleam, ignored the heat of anger. "Go get armed." She told him shortly. "I'll explain on the way there."
He sat in a tree, a bow in hand, arrow fitted to the string. The plan was simple. Robin fired first. When a man fell, they picked them off carefully until the deaths were noticed.
Then, they slaughtered them.
It annoyed Kale that he couldn't see Robin. He wanted to be able to criticize her later. Shaking his head at his own foolishness, he looked down the embankment at the wary men. An arrow flew through the air. A man at the back slumped. It passed through his neck.
Damn. He thought viciously, a newfound respect lighting his eyes. Almost instantly anther man fell, the arrow coming from the same place. Kale couldn't pick the tree, or know for certain it was Robin, but he'd swallow his bow whole if one of the men had broken her command. After travelling with them, he had a taste of the respect they had for her.
Someone noticed the fallen man. With a muttered oath, Kale saw the rain of arrows kill almost every man instantly. They might've had little official training, but these men knew how to shoot.
They each cleared out quickly, meeting back at the designated spot before proceeding to the camp, in case they were followed.
They made their way back to the camp after a quick head count and a quick praise from Robin.
When she looked at Kale, her hawk like face was calm. She walked beside him easily. "The men need to see a strong front." She told him, when he looked at her questioningly. "We cannot fight in front of them. As curtsey, in future, can you refer to me with any questions, please?"
He shrugged easily. "Sure." He told her carelessly. "I spoke to one of the mages." He told her. "They're sending a group of the Queen's Riders and the King's Own to help out."
Sudden hope lit Robin's eyes. She turned away quickly to conceal it. "Thank you." She said politely. He calm voice was at odds with the rush of gratitude he had glimpsed on her features.
"Does Avonsleigh mean so much to you?" He asked, something niggling at him.
She shrugged, still not looking at him, her hair swinging forward to hide most of her face from view. "Its more the constant running." She told him. He heard a touch of bitterness in her words. Here was a woman who stood her ground. "I—I can't help but think of it as the cowards way out, even though it'd be suicide to stand out ground and fight."
"Sometimes death is easier to bear." He said, quietly.
She glanced at him sharply. "You see a lot, my Lord."
He shrugged, but didn't deny it. "Many would think it a gift. In truth, it is anything but."
Robin looked away again, but this time not to hide her face, but to scan the trees around them, an habitual precaution. "I think I can understand." She gave him a sideways smile. He realized it was one of the first he had had directed at him. It softened hard features, warming her eyes. "So, what did you do to become Lord of Avonsleigh?"
He sent her a half-smile back. "Took an arrow for my king." He told her.
She blinked. "An arrow?" She asked, surprised.
"Through the shoulder." His smile turned coy. "Maybe you can see the scar sometime."
"I've seen scars before." She told him, seeing the offer, refusing it.
"Shame." He said, under his breath. He knew suddenly the only way to break Robin, to bring her to heel, was to dominate her first physically.
It wasn't going to be an easy task, he knew.
But he liked a good challenge.
AN: As mentioned in my other fic, my muse has been temporarily misplaced. So if the chapters are short and boring, I'm sorry. I didn't think the last one was that bad, though it wasn't top quality, it was necessary.
Oh, and while I have your attention, *coughs pointedly* anyone know how many are in a squad?
Reaya: No Alanna in this fic. Though some other nobles we know might show up. And the Robin Hood thing is fun! Fun fun fun. I might do a Cinderalla one too. *giggles* next one maybe. I've done an assassin one, a time-warp one, a songfic, and a fairy tale. Hmmmm. And I appreciate your honesty.
Thanks for the reviews, I love you all!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
~Elisse
