Please say you will not come. I stared intently at Robin. He shrugged
innocently. "Of course I shall come," he replied. Damn. "See, when we
brought the families off of Lord Byron's estate to Yorkshire, we also
brought some back from Yorkshire," he informed me. "Could hardly leave
them, you understand." Only to Robin, was that so obvious. "We barely have
enough to feed them. It is a miracle we feed everyone." He laughed, and I
noticed his cheeks were growing hollow. I knew who had been going without
meals. We entered the camp.
Instantly, seven or eight outlaws surrounded Robin. Someone said that foresters had found a group of their targets - should they be torn down? Another said they had only food for the families to last another two days - should they risk another trip into Nottingham? And yet another problem, after problem, after problem. I faded into the shadows of greenwood while Robin handled the problems that had arisen.
"Eh, we are all a group of petulant children, squawking for him when we have any difficulty, aren't we?" Sara asked, sharpening her knife against a whetstone. I nodded numbly. How could I do this?
Somewhere we heard Robin cry, "Will! What did you - ah, just get over here!" Will groaned, "Coming, Mother," he quipped. "Ha-ha. Aren't we amusing?" Robin replied moodily. There was good deal of muttering between the two that could not be interpreted form this distance.
Sara and I had a short conversation before Robin came back. "Remind me to slaughter Will later," he muttered, running dung-spattered fingers through his hair. "Bloody fool sliced our targets for sword practice. And I know it was him, though he bloody well denies it!"
Sara grinned. "Aw, please, can I do it?" she asked. He snorted. "Of course." His worry line deepened, and the arm dropped to his side. His breath was growing shallow, as if the cough was coming again. "I need to speak with Marian for a little bit. Can you handle things for a moment?" he asked her. Sara's eyes sparked with anxiety. She had seen his expression as well. She winked and saluted. "I'll be a perfect tyrant!" she replied merrily. Someone heard Will groan aloud. "Not the queen of the-"
I stood, and Robin and I proceeded to the edge of camp. He began hacking as soon as we were out of earshot. The illness nearly bent him double over. When it had subsided, he stood again and smiled. "Couldn't let them hear me, of course. They worry enough, don't they?" he asked. I nodded, again feeling numb inside. It was so hard to meet his eyes.
"That bread should be much appreciated," he continued, still appearing out of breath. He glanced at the peasants congregated by the meager fire. They were laughing. I peered over at the families. One of the women looked over at me and whispered to a friend. They all giggled.
Robin rolled his eyes. "They have never seen a lady before," he muttered. I forced myself to giggle, and waved to them. They both grinned with sheer indulgence. "Now, ladies," Robin called, "I know I'm handsome, but try not to be so obvious."
They both flung back their heads and laughed at Robin's jest. I forced a laugh out of my chest, but I knew what I was ending. I prayed that the other outlaws would survive without him. They had to.
Both of the peasant women went back to fletching, which was the "dreaded task." But Robin forced everyone to do it, even the passing families. He was convinced they would need their massive stockpile one day. Every outlaw could quote him on it. "You cannot see the rain in Sherwood, but that doesn't mean it isn't coming." After he said it, they would groan and mimic him for almost a quarter hour.
"So, you're coming," I whispered, and paused to look in his tired eyes. He ceased walking and stared at me in return. I felt my eyes begin to well with tears. "You're coming alone to the Nottingham High Road." Me voice cracked dangerously. I hoped that saying the entire process aloud would help him realize the danger. But there was only trust in his eyes.
"Of course, Mari. What should I fear? It is only you, eh?"
If only you knew.
Instantly, seven or eight outlaws surrounded Robin. Someone said that foresters had found a group of their targets - should they be torn down? Another said they had only food for the families to last another two days - should they risk another trip into Nottingham? And yet another problem, after problem, after problem. I faded into the shadows of greenwood while Robin handled the problems that had arisen.
"Eh, we are all a group of petulant children, squawking for him when we have any difficulty, aren't we?" Sara asked, sharpening her knife against a whetstone. I nodded numbly. How could I do this?
Somewhere we heard Robin cry, "Will! What did you - ah, just get over here!" Will groaned, "Coming, Mother," he quipped. "Ha-ha. Aren't we amusing?" Robin replied moodily. There was good deal of muttering between the two that could not be interpreted form this distance.
Sara and I had a short conversation before Robin came back. "Remind me to slaughter Will later," he muttered, running dung-spattered fingers through his hair. "Bloody fool sliced our targets for sword practice. And I know it was him, though he bloody well denies it!"
Sara grinned. "Aw, please, can I do it?" she asked. He snorted. "Of course." His worry line deepened, and the arm dropped to his side. His breath was growing shallow, as if the cough was coming again. "I need to speak with Marian for a little bit. Can you handle things for a moment?" he asked her. Sara's eyes sparked with anxiety. She had seen his expression as well. She winked and saluted. "I'll be a perfect tyrant!" she replied merrily. Someone heard Will groan aloud. "Not the queen of the-"
I stood, and Robin and I proceeded to the edge of camp. He began hacking as soon as we were out of earshot. The illness nearly bent him double over. When it had subsided, he stood again and smiled. "Couldn't let them hear me, of course. They worry enough, don't they?" he asked. I nodded, again feeling numb inside. It was so hard to meet his eyes.
"That bread should be much appreciated," he continued, still appearing out of breath. He glanced at the peasants congregated by the meager fire. They were laughing. I peered over at the families. One of the women looked over at me and whispered to a friend. They all giggled.
Robin rolled his eyes. "They have never seen a lady before," he muttered. I forced myself to giggle, and waved to them. They both grinned with sheer indulgence. "Now, ladies," Robin called, "I know I'm handsome, but try not to be so obvious."
They both flung back their heads and laughed at Robin's jest. I forced a laugh out of my chest, but I knew what I was ending. I prayed that the other outlaws would survive without him. They had to.
Both of the peasant women went back to fletching, which was the "dreaded task." But Robin forced everyone to do it, even the passing families. He was convinced they would need their massive stockpile one day. Every outlaw could quote him on it. "You cannot see the rain in Sherwood, but that doesn't mean it isn't coming." After he said it, they would groan and mimic him for almost a quarter hour.
"So, you're coming," I whispered, and paused to look in his tired eyes. He ceased walking and stared at me in return. I felt my eyes begin to well with tears. "You're coming alone to the Nottingham High Road." Me voice cracked dangerously. I hoped that saying the entire process aloud would help him realize the danger. But there was only trust in his eyes.
"Of course, Mari. What should I fear? It is only you, eh?"
If only you knew.