Twisted Justice
Chapter 5…New Arrivals
Robin drummed a tattoo on the branch that was a little nervous, a little annoyed, and a lot bored. She knew the soldiers would be here soon…but when?
And Kale, damn him to the arms of the black god, had…
She shook her head, trying to dispel the stubborn thought. The memory of the moment he had held her, when everyone else was asleep, and they were out of sight, tired and feeling more than a little brittle plagued her, almost as badly as the memory of her family dying.
He had almost kissed her…of that, she was sure. But neither of them had been thinking rationally, both pushed beyond tiredness and exhaustion into a hazy world where everything was warped and fragmented.
She had put it down to exhaustion. She hated him… arrogant, self-absorbed, pompous, pig headed fool he was. Why, it was a trial just to stand next to him!
She almost missed the sound of hooves. Dropping swiftly from the branch, she tilted her head and sent a shrill whistle that sounded for all the world like the call of her namesake, the robin.
Unsure if it was friend or foe, she strung her bow. They had camped away from the road, but scouts were posted in wait for the men expected to arrive soon.
The answering call, though clumsy, almost managed to bring a smile to her hard face. "Ho!" She called. "They're here!"
They had set up camp as blatantly as you please. Robin sat in a circle of men who had the look of born leaders and killers.
Kale sat at her side, legs stretched out, totally at ease in these surroundings. Robin sat with her back straight and shoulders squared, bow strung beside her.
So far, all they had done was organize food for the men.
"You're the leader of the "outlaws" then?" A tall, somewhat gangly looking man asked her.
"As long as they want me, yes." Robin said, her chin going up in pride.
"They'll follow you wherever you lead." Kale said, more to those gathered than Robin, though he was addressing her.
Another man, human giant, with dark brown curls and somber black eyes considered her. "You're young for your charge." He said, but somehow she knew he approved of her.
"Robin knows the terrain better than any man." Kale said, jumping to her defense. "S—he can shoot better than any I know, and is almost tireless. I would compare him to you, Sir Raoul."
"Shut up." Robin told him, her golden eyes hard. "You've no need to speak so."
Sir Raoul cleared his throat. "Master Robin, do you and your people know the enemies numbers and position?"
Robin began to rattle off information, not having to think about what she said. She had gone over the facts night after sleepless night trying to find a hope for her people.
When she was silent again, Raoul looked at the gangly man. "You know your stuff." He complimented her so casually she didn't feel at all awkward. "Does someone in your group know the castle?"
"I do." She told him without thinking, then damned herself.
He raised an eyebrow. He, like the others, assumed she was a commoner. Few nobles would get their hands dirty so. "Can you draw maps?" He asked her.
"Sure." She shrugged.
"Any weak points we can use? Secret tunnels, hidden doors…?"
"There's a tunnel." She told him. "But its narrow. It would take hours for the men to get through it. Should you wish it, a few could move through with ease, maybe open the gates."
Kale looked at her with quickly hidden surprise. "Its good to know of." Sir Raoul's voice held only the barest trace of regret. "Could I ask you to draw up a map now, so we can begin to plan?"
Robin sat under the tree, only a few meters away from the busy, organized camp. It felt odd to see new faces, to be surrounded by men. It multiplied her loneliness, amplified it. Made her aware that she was a stranger, clothed in lies.
She looked down at the blank slate and wondered when Kale would tell Sir Raoul of her gender. Surely, he having trained with the Lioness, he would not totally discount her…?
Pushing thoughts of loneliness and Kale aside, she took the chalk and with strong strokes, began to map the castle and surrounding fields, stopping only once to wonder fleetingly what it would feel like to enter the fief again.
When she was done, she arched her back, stretching. The slate before her held a detailed map to scale of Avonsleigh.
"You've a head for details." Kale said from behind her. She almost gasped, but remembered she was a man, and turned with a scowl.
"Next time I'll make you a pincushion." She rested a rough palm on her unstrung bow, the wood smooth and inviting beneath her hand.
"But not a cool head." She twisted the other way. The tall, gangly man leant on the other side of the tree.
"Usually Robin's as calm as you like." Kale told him with a half grin. "I get under his skin."
"Milord." Robin passed the slate to the gangly man, not patiently. She sent Kale a searing look.
"Thank you." The man looked closely at the map. "Its better than the one we have, better than even I could wish."
"Its not just you who I'm helping." Robin reminded him.
The three of them walked over to the group of men sitting discussing tactics. Robin sat, and the gangly man passed the slate to Raoul. He looked at Robin with appreciation.
Before the words were out of his mouth, a horn call sounded. The dark tones rang off the valley walls, echoing. The gangly man let loose a chain of expletives. Robin stood, strung her bow.
"What do we do?" A man called, his face grim.
"Wing it." Raoul called, the light of battle in his eyes.
"Archers, to the trees!" Robin called, her voice carrying over the sound of hooves, more like thunder than the steady drum roll many would have expected.
"Into your lines!" Raoul unsheathed a long, heavy sword. "Surround the camp!"
"Hold the fire!" Robin's voice didn't carry as well as Raoul's, but it didn't have to. The men she had been with for almost a year knew. She steadied herself, bracing her legs and fitting an arrow to her bow.
When the first man came into view, Robin felt the anger and hurt flare. They would be crushed, and all she had worked for, all she had dreamt of, lived and lied for, would be lost, left to rot in the center of the road.
Kale stood by her side, sword in hand. He waited in silence, eyes hard.
They were closing fast. Robin could almost feel the men in the trees picking targets, itching to shoot, nerves jangling.
She released an arrow. The first man fell from his horse. A steady rain of arrows followed her own. Few men got past the archers defense to the circle of men.
A man was riding straight for Robin and Kale. Robin's focus narrowed to the one person, moving in his saddle, with the horse. In one hand he held a heavy, double sided war axe. The other hand held a mace.
She loosed the arrow. Even as it sank into his chest, a knife was buried deep in his neck.
The raw skin on Robin's fingers opened and bled, yet the bow was true and the arrows flew straight.
It was over in the blink of an eye. It was over in a century.
Robin titled back her head, let out a whistle. In the time it took for a man to climb form a tree and move to her, she was surrounded by silent men.
"John," She singled him out. "We need sentries. Place them in the trees either side of the road, fifty and a hundred meters away. The rest of us will clean up."
She unstrung her bow and drew a hooked hunting knife, her orders carried out in silence. "Hold." Raoul called. Her men didn't take any notice. "Master Robin, hold your men!"
"Hold!" Robin called. She turned back to Raoul, angry and impatient. There could be men in the trees, wounded suffering.
"Your archers have done enough. We can take it from here." His sword was barely blooded. Many weren't even wet.
She gave him a shallow bow. "I appreciate your concern, my lord, but my men know the area. Yours don't."
"Then your sentries may go." He looked at the archers John had assigned to sentry duty. They looked to Robin.
"Go." She told them. Again, they moved away in silence.
"You know what to do." The gangly man said. He led a group of men and they began checking the dead, giving the mercy stroke where it was needed, piling bodies in the center of the road for burning.
"I see how you've survived so long." Raoul came up to her, sword still bare in his hand.
"We all learn when we have to." She didn't bow this time.
"I told you they follow Robin and no other." Kale told Raoul.
He nodded, watching Robin with interest. "You have good men, master. And a steady hand." Robin looked down at her bleeding hands, her bow, smeared with her own blood, still bright red.
"We should move." She said bluntly. "Word carries fast in Avonsleigh. The sound will have been heard in the fief."
"We'll stay." Raoul looked around. "For one thing, we couldn't hope to hide a group of this size. For another, if your numbers are accurate, they just lost almost half their men, and we suffered not a single casualty." He looked once at her hands, face impassive. "Thanks to your archers."
"We fight for the land." She accepted the compliment with a bow. "And we will—as many have—die for it."
"Lets get this over with." Raoul nodded out to the see of men. "Time enough for talk then."
Robin set off, Kale beside her, to clean up the mess left from the massacre.
AN: Hey, sorry so much about the lax in my updating, the net was down.
Gotta run, hope you liked the SHORT chapter, and don't forget to review!!!!!
~Elisse.
