characters.
Chapter 5
The day moved quickly, much more
quickly than Piper would have liked. Shortly after
her encounter with her guardian, the guards had to leave
for their afternoon duties in town.
Piper spent several hours practicing her archery, but
she found that her concentration was off.
So, she went into town and spent most of her afternoon
with Much. She told him what had
happened that morning and he listened with a sympathetic
ear.
To cheer her up, Much took Piper
to the Farmer's Dog to hear a new troubadour that was
in town. "I've heard him once before." He
told her. "He's not too bad. He's not the best
singer but he tells really good stories."
The miller's son was right. Alan of the Dale, as he called himself, was a very good story
teller, even if his singing left something to be desired. If half the stories he told were true
then the man had been to every town in England and to
several in France, Italy, and Spain.
Piper didn't necessarily believe all of his stories,
but he spun his yarns with such ease that
she forgot all of her concerns listening to them.
Soon, the smell of thick stew
and warm bread drifted from the kitchen, and Piper knew
that it was time to leave. Much clasped her by
the shoulder and then pulled her into a tight
embrace. "You'll be fine." He said. They pulled apart and he gave her a playful punch
in the arm. "If anyone can survive the Sheriff's
wrath, it's you."
"I hope you're right." Piper sighed and left the tavern for home. She walked quickly
as she returned home. It was late March and still
quite chilly in the evenings. The fast pace
helped keep the cold away. Her only companion on
this long walk home was her long, pale
shadow. That was fine. She didn't feel much
like talking.
By the time she got back to the
Manor, the candles were burning in the windows. Piper
went directly to the kitchen, but once she got there,
she didn't eat much. Sarah noticed
Piper picking glumly at her plate, but assumed that she
was still upset about being attacked
on the road. Milly, who was a more suspicious person
by nature, felt certain that something
else was bothering the girl, but she too remained silent
through dinner.
Piper excused herself and trudged
grimly down the hallways towards Philip's chambers.
She walked slowly and wondered what she would do if she
was banished from the Manor.
She supposed that she could work at the Farmer's Dog,
or maybe she could befriend that
troubadour, Alan, and follow him all around England. More likely, she would have to
resort to stealing and become the thing that she hated
most; an outlaw, like the outlaws
who abandoned her as an infant.
Voices drifted down the dark
passageway, and Piper realized two things. First, she
realized that she was standing right down the hall from
the Sheriff's chambers. She had
been so lost in thought that she had lost track of where
she was going. Second, the Sheriff
was not alone. His door was opened only a crack,
but a sliver of soft light poured gently
onto the stone floor like a misplaced blanket.
"... all agree that leaving is
not a good idea. Still, we must be careful now." That was
Philip's voice; cold, controlled and rational as always.
"The time for careful is long
past us. Richard is leaving. Do you know what that means
for us Saxons?" Piper recognized the second, more
impassioned, voice. It was Robert
Locksley. He and Philip had always been friends,
and had been arguing for just as long.
Now it seemed like they were arguing about the King's
decision to travel to the Holy Lands
to join the crusaders in their fight. Piper had
heard a lot of people talking about it. If King
Richard left, then his brother, John, would rule in his
place. The Saxons, like Locksley,
were very nervous about the prospect. Prince John
had never been quiet about his dislike
for Saxons.
"Robert," Philip sounded
tired. "If you stir up the hornets, you're going to get stung.
Just promise me you'll do nothing for now. Richard
hasn't even left yet."
"Right. Fine." Locksley's
voice was terse and angry. The door swung open violently,
splashing the hall with warm candle light. Piper
gasped and jumped back several paces.
Locksley hardly even acknowledged her as he stormed away.
Piper shifted her attention from
the back of the departing nobleman, to the Sheriff's
doorway. The Sheriff's chamber was sparse, with
only several torches and a large oak table
buried in papers and books. On the far wall was
another door leading to his private rooms.
The Sheriff stood in the center of the room, with his
back to her, his fists balled up in frustration.
Though he had requested her presence himself, Piper felt
like this might not be the best time to
bother him.
She silently turned back the
way she had come. Perhaps she would return in an hour, when
things were calmer. She took one cautious step
when an agitated voice stopped her.
"Come in child. I'm not in a patient mood."
Piper sighed and walked in. She faced his back. "What was it you wished to speak to me
about, sir?" He turned and she met his gaze evenly. She refused to cast her eyes downward.
That would be an admittance of guilt, and she had done
nothing wrong.
Philip glared at her, but said
nothing. then he sighed, the frustration from his argument with
Locksley draining away. "I should have know." He said, shaking his head. "I should have
guessed that something like this would happen. Care to explain why?"
"I want to be a guard." Piper answered calmly, with a hint of rebellion in her voice.
"There is no other explanation. I've wanted to
be one since I was four. I'm not so good at
fighting yet, but Bear is teaching me. And I already
shoot better than some of the other guards."
She was being modest. She shot better than most
of the other guards, but she didn't want to
brag just yet.
"I shouldn't even have to tell you that the Sheriff's Guard is no place for a girl."
Piper growled a little in frustration. "Why does everyone else get to decide what my place
is? Shouldn't I decide that?" She knew that
she was treading on dangerous ground, but if she
was about to get thrown out on the street, she might
as well get a few questions answered.
"I suppose so, but you'd only be a little girl playing boys' games."
This infuriated Piper. She marched up to the Sheriff until she was nearly touching him.
She folded her arms across her chest and sneered up at
him. "I don't play boys' games. I
don't play by boys' rules. I play by my own."
Without warning, Philip roared
and swung his hand to strike her on the face. Piper's heart
jumped into her throat, but instinct took over. She ducked beneath the intended blow, grabbing
his wrist as it past her harmlessly, and yanking it as
hard as she could, causing the Sheriff to
stumble. It was a move that Bear had taught her
that very day.
Piper scurried away to a safe distance
and watched, ready to fight if the Sheriff should attack
her again. Her heart and mind were both racing
in confusion and fear. But no further attack
was forthcoming. Philip nodded in mild approval. "Impressive." He said, back to his usual
brooding stillness.
Then he seemed to come to a decision. His voice was very serious. "You're no longer
playing games; boys', girls' or any other sort. And from now on, you'll be following my
rules, not your own. You will train every day,
and you will train hard. You will do what
the other guards tell you to do, when they tell you to
do it, and no dispute." Was he saying
what Piper thought he was saying? She held her
breath, too afraid that she might be hallucinating
it. "I'm not saying that you'll be a guard. That will be decided when you're the proper age.
But since it's obvious that no man or woman alive could
ever turn you into a proper lady, I
will let you continue this lunacy for a while longer."
It took all of her self control
not to hug the man before her. Instead she smiled breathlessly.
"Thank you sir. You won't be disappointed."
"That remains to be seen. Now leave me. You shall have a busy day tomorrow."
Piper turned to leave, but paused
in the doorway. A old question had taken vague shape
deep inside of her soul. It was a nagging question
that always surfaced when she was near the
Sheriff.
Who were my parents?>
She knew that she was abandoned
by outlaws, but something told her that Philip Mark
knew more than that.
She pushed the question to the
back of her mind. Now was not the time to press her luck.
With that, she hurried out of the Sheriff's chamber.