Marian hung her head in shame as Robert looked down at her dirty features. He was speechless, she could tell, but then, they heard a clatter a ways down the road. Quickly, Marian shoved her hat back on and stuffed her hair haphazardly back underneath it.
"Don't tell anyone," she half-pleaded, half-demanded. Still shocked and unable to answer, Robert held her horse steady as she mounted and they casually came up onto the road again.
"'Ey Scarlet, 'tis Rob," a booming voice said, nudging his arm with a massive hand, and a wooden ox driven cart rolled up to them. John sat on the driver's bench, holding the reigns while Scarlet sat next to him, in the middle of taking his shirt off and throwing it back into the cart bed. Robert glanced at Marian, embarrassed for her at Scarlet's lack of modesty, but she avoided his gaze and shifted her weight, leaning back, her palms resting against the sweaty rump of her horse.
"'Oo's 'e?" John asked, pulling up next to him, and perused Marian lazily.
"Uh...um..." Robert mumbled, but Marian jumped down confidently from her horse and gave the large man a hearty handshake, "M'name's Matthew, nice to meet thee!"
John returned her smile, nearly wrenching her arm from the socket as he shook her hand.
"Well, if 'ur a friend o' Rob's then 'ur a friend o' mine, m'name's John Little o' 'Athersage," he said proudly, then leaned in close to her and whispered, "But as 'oo can see, I'm no' tha' small." Marian grinned at his joke and her attention drew to the shirtless young man who sat beside him.
Marian held out her hand to him, but he just stared at it with contempt. Marian looked to John, and then to Robert, who shrugged. Uncomfortable, Marian mounted her horse again, and followed the cart abreast with Robert, heading away from the town of Nottingham.
"Scarlet's a bit moody today, he's not that rude all the time," Robert reassured her, once they were out of hearing distance. Marian just looked at the cart in deep thought. Robert wondered at this sudden change of disposition. This went on for a while, and then, out of the blue, she asked, "What's in the cart?"
"Most likely loot, stolen from an unlucky imperial passerby."
"Like gold and things?" she asked.
"Aye, that is what we do?"
"Steal other people's possessions?" her brow furrowed.
"Not so different from thee..."
"What I steal is none of thy business," she said, turning her head back to the road, trying to drop the subject.
"No really, I want to know why someone like thee," he hesitated, knowing he was pushing her too far, "Came all the way from Barnesdale to steal food from the traders of Nottingham."
"I SAID, it's none of thy business." Scarlet turned around to look at them, and they resumed their attentions back to the road, then soon he turned around again, shaking his head in confusion as he did so.
"Where are we going?"
"It's none of thy business," he mocked her, and received a shooting glare in his direction.
"I think I shall leave thee now," she said hotly, and started to turn her horse around. Robert blocked her path, "Come join us," he said, a wicked grin on his face.
"Join thee in dining," she asked, narrowing her eyes, "Or join thee as a thief?"
"Birds of a feather-"
"I steal for the POOR, the WEAK, and the HELPLESS. I do what I can for my poor, mistreated people. I don't rely on Great Prince John, who sits on his lazy crupper all day, milking the peasants of their small wealth...or lack there of. I do not believe that the 'Lionhearted' is ever going to come back from his silly land war and save us from his brother's wrath, I spit on this country, and all who rule it," her face was red now and she halted her horse, fuming, and jumped down. John and Scarlet had stopped the cart and were watching her with looks of amazement on their faces.
"I steal for the need of the people. Though many do not know me, they know that there is hope. And I am one of the few who carry this hope through these times. I steal..." she paused, wiping the spit from her cheek and searching for the right words, "For the good of all of England. And that is more than what thee can say about thy life, tha cob-roller, scar-faced, bootlegged, OUTLAW!" she said, stomping her boot hard on the ground to prove her point.
Robert's face was placid, and he looked down on her. He swung his leg back over his horse and dismounted, and she stepped back, unsure of what he might do. He reached out slowly and grabbed the front of her thatched cotton shirt, and hefted her up to his eye level, her feet rising onto her toes. He bared his teeth at her and said, in a harsh whisper, so that the others couldn't hear, "Curb thy wicked tongue about thy king, or I shall forget that thou art a lady."
Robert let out an angry growl, lugged her forcefully over to the side of the road, pushing her up against a broad birch tree, bringing his face close to hers "Or maybe I won't."
His breath was hot and rank in her face, and she felt the tension in his body as he held it against hers. His eyes were piercing and cold, glimmering with an anger that lay unquenched in his young bones.
A small, quiet whimper emitted from Marian as she raised her gaze to meet his striking blue eyes, and Robert saw the look of pure terror on her face. Her hat had tumbled off in the rough transport, exposing her long hair, and it framed her dirty face like a strange halo.
Her bottom lip trembled, and she bit it to keep back her building emotions. Suddenly realizing what he was doing, he let go of her and she stood there, looking up into his eyes as if searching for a source of his fury. Then, Marian pushed away from him, bending down to pick up her hat from the dirty ground. All were silent as she scrambled onto her horse, turned it around, kicked it into a gallop, sending a foul glare behind her shoulder.
Robert stood, clenching his fists in her wake.
Robert sat on a large boulder that overlooked a slow and lazy river. The stars were out, but he paid no attention to the night sky, for he was wrapped in his own thoughts. A night owl hooted in the distance, and Robert raised his head from his arms that rested on his knees to glance in the direction. He was relieved that it was just an animal...he didn't want to be bothered now.
Was he really as terrible a person as Marian had said he was? Robert hadn't chosen his life, he was welcomed into a Nottingham thieves' guild after he had...
Was he also wrong for being loyal to his king? He had never gone on a mission overseas, but at home, he was a true fighter, killing all tyrants who scorned the crown. He believed King Richard would soon come back and replace his Brother on the throne and praise all who had helped him. He could see it now... the parades... celebrations... gold...
That foolish girl! She was also was wrong about not having to say anything about his life. Huh! What did she know? His life had been such a terrible mess of secrets, lies, and gold. A reoccurring problem in his life, gold. His father, the greedy swine, had pushed all these terrible things onto him. His childhood was a travesty. A chain of crude, distorted, grotesque events. Some of he'd not like to remember...some of he'd like to forget.
Robert picked up a small rock and threw it over the edge into the river. It made a pleasant 'plop' sound as it hit the water. He quietly watched the ripples ebb from the center and then fade slowly into nothingness. His thoughts drifted again to Marian, and how surprisingly unsettling her face looked framed by her hair, a sharp and fiery woman, although softness held in her watery eyes.
He shook his head violently, his peace of mind was suddenly destroyed, and he cursed the skinny wench for barging in on his most private reflections.
A crack of a twig behind him made Robert turn suddenly, his hand flying to the dagger attached to his belt, only to relax when he realized that it was Scarlet. He silently to sit down next to him, and they both listened to the sounds of the forest. Will Scarlet was his closest friend apart from John, and he had been proved useful many times during their friendship, be it a fight, or a scout, or a barterer.
"Say, I was thinking about that girl..." Scarlet began.
"Seems that she has been lurking around in my thoughts tonight too," Robert growled, picking up another rock and throwing it into the water, again watching the ripple spread until it disappeared.
"Did thou know she was a girl?"
"Aye."
"Who is she then?"
"Naught but a silly lass," Robert scoffed, then looked at Scarlet sideways.
"Ah, thou art keeping something from me," Scarlet chided, nudging his friend in the side, "Have thee had a tussle in the hay with her already?"
Robert shot a dangerous glare at him.
"I take that as a 'Nay'?" Scarlet grinned roguishly, "Well then, may I have one with her then?"
"Scarlet!" he exclaimed, shocked by his lewdness.
"What?" Scarlet asked laughing, "Holding a pretty lass like that against a tree this afternoon, and pulling her dress over her head didn't come across your mind?"
"Actually, it hadn't," Robert stood, his appetite for conversation suddenly ruined, "And 'tis in thy best interest that thou stay away from that girl?"
"Why? Jealous that she'd fall for my roguish charm, and not thee?" Scarlet taunted, raising his eyebrows suggestively.
"Nay, 'tis just that, she's just as dangerous as she is silly. 'Twouldn't be wise to tame her." Robert bowed and started to walk down the path to the camp.
"Who said anything about taming her?" Scarlet hissed. Robert turned back around, "Well, tha wouldn't want a wolf to bite off thy...hand...would thee?"
Marian tore off her shirt and tenderly touched the purple bruises that had appeared under her rib. She'd had bruises before, and this wasn't one of the worse ones that she had ever had. She carefully unwrapped the cloth that bound her breasts flat and let out a sigh. No one said pretending to be a man was easy. A knock on the door made her shrug on a jacket and quickly button it up before she pulled the heavy wooden bar from the slots and kicked the barn door open, letting a hooded man into the shadowed darkness of the small building.
He carried a tray of bread, cheese and water. He set it on an empty barrel and she fell to her knees, tearing at the bread with her teeth, and gulping down the water with relish. The man chuckled, taking a seat on a hay bale and let the brown hood of his habit fall to his shoulders. He waited until Marian had eaten the last of the cheese to greet her formally.
"Marian, my child of God, I am glad of thy presence," the man said, and Marian came to catch his hand in hers and pressed it to her face.
"And I too, Friar Tuck," she said, bowing her head as he said a prayer of blessing.
"Now tell me child, why have thou not visited for a while," he said leaning his plump elbows on the ledge behind him.
"I've been busy,"
"Aye, rightly so, for the bag that tha gave me today was the biggest one yet!" his fat cheeks shook with laughter.
"Tuck," she said, quietly, "I miss the forest."
"We all miss things of which we do not have,"
"When will this conflict end?" she asked, trying hard to hide the whining tone in her voice, "When will I be able to return to the forest?"
"Tha speaks of the forest as if it were a loved one," Tuck said, placing a understanding hand over hers.
"Sometimes I feel that it is..." she said, her voice faltering, "...I miss the smell of sap that used to linger on my fingers, and the taste of peppermint leaves on my tongue...I miss Sarah, and Nan, and all of the forestpeople."
"Resolutions will come in due time, my child, and weather or not thou knows it, thou art aiding in it's progress." She shrugged, and Tuck got up and took the tray from atop the barrel.
"I hope tha had enough to eat."
"Sometimes it seems like I never do."