Chapter Four: A Bitter Chill
The icy chill in the air grew harsher and colder with each day. The bite of winter meant fewer wealthy travellers through the forest, less animals venturing into the open and more desperate starving peasants attempting to poach the ones that did. The feeble income of those villagers who did manage to hold a job, mostly those who supplied necessities to the castle, smiths and millers, dwindled further with the lack of demand. The snow had come too. Light dustings at first that coated the forest floor and the thatched roofs of huts but soon melted, and then heavier and more frequent. Layered in coats and cloaks gathered from past disguises, and more appropriately equipped for an English winter rather than the intense heat and then cold of the deserts, the outlaws did what they could to ease the suffering of the villages of Nottinghamshire.
Will alone stayed behind in the woods while the others distributed what meat and food they could steal from the castle stores and snatched the purses of unsuspecting guards. Whilst they tried to catch up for the months they had been away, he undertook the new task of moving a camp in winter.
It kept him warm though, which was the only reason Djaq had reluctantly accepted to wear his cloak over hers. The physical efforts of chopping wood and fashioning a home out of logs and rope, saw him work up a steady sweat that warmed him more than their campfires did.
And to be honest, as much as the people of Loxley and Nettlestone meant to him, and as great as his straight forward desire for justice was, Will preferred to be alone much of the day in winter. He hated winters, and far more than that he hated having to watch people starve through them. He had been in that position himself most of the years that Robin, then and still the Earl of Loxley had been fighting in the crusades and his lands given to Gisborne when Edward was replaced as the Sheriff.
Now winter only made him think of his mother lying to them all and saying she had eaten while really she gave her very meagre portions to Will and Luke. How she had faded away so much faster than the rest of them and hid the sharp angry hunger pains like she did not even feel them. Jane Scarlett had died in her husband's arms only three years ago, telling her children that she loved them. That moment had been the catalyst that ignited Will's pure hatred towards the new Sheriff that just let his people starve and kept all the best for himself. Whilst Dan Scarlett, and Will, were skilled carpenters, there were no more markets to sell their work, no one had money to hire them and so they like the rest of the village suffered and fell into poverty.
One winter later, things grew even more dire. Unable to watch his family and his village starve and fall into even more desperate times, eighteen year old Will stole away to Nottingham with his then fourteen year old brother in tow right behind him.
It was only one bag of flour, but that was enough to keep the whole village eating on the bread they could make for weeks. Unbeknownst to him, they had suspected such attempts at theft would be made. Houses were searched, families thrown outside as their homes turned upside down in the search for the specially marked sack of flour meant for the castle.
"Out! Now!" Sir Guy of Gisborne roughly hurled Luke Scarlett to the ground as he scrambled to get back inside and hide the evidence.
"Luke! No!" Dan shouted, pulling his youngest son close and gripping his arm tightly as the soldiers tore through the single room cottage they called home.
Will stood silently by, his eyes wide and heart pounding anxiously in his chest. They had not seen the mark on the sack, cleverly hidden on the inside so any thieves would not see. Any thieves like him.
"It's alright, boys. There's nothing for them to find, it'll be over in a...minute…" Dan's voice trailed off when he turned and saw Will's expression. He looked back at Luke who looked terrified and then back to his eldest again. "Is there? Will!"
"Found it, sir! Stowed under the bed." There was a heavy thump as the half empty sack of flour landed hard on the dirt, spilling its valuable contents onto the ground.
Gisborne alighted from his horse, a sadistically satisfied expression on his face as he stepped over to the three Scarlett men and stared each of them in the eye.
"Well, well, well...I know you don't have the money to pay for that, Scarlett."
"Yeah I took it." Will spat, stepping forward in an effort to shield his little brother as Gisborne stepped closer. "To feed the people you're supposed to be lo-" He grunted as the lieutenant to the Sheriff immediately lashed out and struck him hard across the face.
"It wasn't just Will!" Little Luke bravely defended, even as his father tried to cover his mouth and muffled his protests, "It wasn't just Will!"
"The penalty for theft is to lose the hand that stole it." Gisborne seized Will's wrist hand in his gloved hand and try as Will did to wriggle free, his grip was like a vice. "And since I feel lenient today…" He let go and moved dangerously toward Luke. Dan tried to shield the boy but with a nod of Gisborne's head, Luke was dragged forward alongside Will. "I'll only take it from one of you. So...who will it be? Little brother, or big brother?"
If his mouth wasn't so dry from fear, Will would have spat in Gisborne's slimy face. He was a moment away from pushing his brother away and taking the punishment before a desperate shout came from behind them.
"Me! If you must take a hand, take mine! Leave the boys, they're young!"
"Dad, no!"
Guy stared between them, even his vindictive nature seemed to hesitate for just a second at the thought of chopping off the hand of a fourteen year old but whatever flicker of humanity he showed was gone in a second. He nodded sharply to the guards. "Bring the carpenter."
"Dad! Don't!"
"It's okay, boys...it's okay. I'm your father, and I can handle this."
Luke lunged forward, only to be seized quickly by Will who threw his arms around his younger brother's shoulders and held him back. The whole village was there, angry shouts and frightened gasps surrounded them as Dan was dragged forward and forced to his knees. A block was placed in front of him and forcefully his left hand was slammed upon it, held still by two soldiers either side. Guy did not wield the axe himself but as he turned and smirked at the carpenter's two sons, he may as well have struck the blow personally.
"People of Loxley! Let this serve as a warning to you all. Theft will not be tolerated! Now this man has volunteered his own hand in place of his children's. I will not make such allowances again so teach your children to mind. Their. Hands."
The axe was raised. A woman screamed. Will spun Luke in his arms and pressed his brother's head into his shoulder so he wouldn't see. The axe fell, and an agonising scream of pain wrenched from his father's throat. With a sickening thump, Dan Scarlett's left hand dropped into the dirt, drenched in the blood that poured freely from the stump of a wrist that was left.
Will clenched his eyes closed and turned away, never loosening his protective hold on Luke who was screaming too.
They left Dan there, writhing in a pool of his own blood as Gisborne and his men rode away, the stolen flour in their hands.
"Dad!" Letting go of his brother, Will sprinted to his father's side, as Dan Scarlett clutched at the stump of his wrist. Nearly nauseas at the sight, Will rolled him over, trying not to look at the hand that lay independent from its arm only a yard away.
"You better run before I cut off more than your hand, you stinking, slimy, leather-clad leech!" Screeching all manner of profanities after Gisborne, Matilda, Loxley's medicine woman came hurrying up, tearing strips from her own apron to use as a tourniquet for the wrist.
"Dad, why did you have to do that?! It was my fault!"
"Better m-me than you boys…" Dan groaned, his face contorted in pain as he was lifted between Will and Matilda and carried groaning into the house, young Luke in frightened tears following after them.
Blood poured through the cotton apron pieces that covered the wound, coating Will's front in his father's blood, and staining the dirt floor red as they hefted him onto the only real bed in the one room house.
"Save it, Dan. You can yell at them afterwards." Matilda huffed and tossed the already soaked rags to the ground and replaced them with the rest of her apron as she held the limb in the air. "Luke! Get me anything you can find to wrap this. Will, get a bucket of water and help me clean him up."
The boys scurried into action, tripping over each other as they got in the way while Will grabbed the half full bucket from outside the front door. He fought the bile that was rising in his throat as Matilda hauled up Dan's sleeve so he could wipe the wound. They were no strangers to illness and injuries, and everyone knew someone who had crossed the Sheriff and lost some part of their body but this was horribly different.
"Good lad." The older woman nodded, grabbing the corded cotton that Luke used as a scarf when the fourteen year old ran back in and pressed it into Will's hand. "Now hold that there." She instructed, pressing Will's shaking hand onto Dan's wrist. "Do not let go until it stops bleeding. He'll be fine."
He did as he was told, paler than usual as he kept his eyes glued onto his father's groaning face to avoid looking at the horrific injury. "I'm sorry Dad...I'm so sorry, you should have let me-"
"I-I know you was only trying to do good, my boy." Dan sputtered out between pained winces as Matilda began to bind his arm in what bandages she had. "But for pity's sake, Will, don't you ever be so foolish again."
Foolish? Will still did not think it was foolish. After all, here he was stealing from the Sheriff full time where once he had been about to take over the carpentry business from his dad. But this far Of course, Will and Luke, alongside Benedict Giddings, had done exactly the same thing the next year and if hadn't been for Robin, would have paid with their lives.
His fingers fumbled for a moment on the rope he was tying off. With a clatter the log he'd hoisted over his head to fasten into place and support the ceiling he had yet to finish, fell back to the forest floor. Will grunted in annoyance and kicked out at the offending wood in frustration. His mind had wandered too far, strayed from the task at hand they were all so eager for him to finish so they could have somewhere warm to sleep again.
"Will?"
He turned, running a tired hand over his face and forced a smile as Djaq and John made their way towards him. Little John carried what looked to be half a fallen tree over his shoulder, and a pouch of coins jingled at her hip every step that Djaq took. She was still wrapped in his cloak, which drowned her comically so much that she had to hike it up to walk completely uninhibited.
"You done already?"
"We finished our drops quicker than we thought." John explained and dropped the wood at Will's feet with a heavy thud. "Thought you might want a hand."
"He dragged that all the way from the road so you wouldn't have to spend half the day chopping another tree down."
"Thanks."
"Something the matter?"
"No, it's fine." Will flatly denied, taking a long draught from his water skin, to which Djaq just scoffed and raised her eyebrows at him. She'd just opened her mouth to press the point when John whistled from behind him and hoisted up the log that he'd dropped.
"Oi...where's this go?"
"Uh...yeah, just hold it up there." Will pointed, bending to pick up the rope that had fallen and with John's help easily strapped it into place and secured the beam with a few well placed nails.
The first permanent camp the outlaws had made had been cunningly hidden in a small ravine deep in the woods. The entrance was cleverly disguised with a large leaf covered platform that would be impossible to accidentally stumble upon and opened with a hidden lever that only they, and Marian, had known about. Now Will was moving it, just in case the Sheriff could remember how to find it again, to an even more subtle location deeper in the heart of Sherwood. Another week and it would be liveable, and another two and it would be finished. The hollowing out of the ground and figuring out the best way to use the rocky outcrop that served as one wall had been the hardest part, now with the design clear in his mind, all that remained was the piece it together. He'd been taught by the best.
"Are you sure you do not want to take a break? You will run yourself ragged, Will."
"Nah...I like being busy." He grunted, picking up his axe from the ground and moving over to the log that John had brought to start cutting it into the lengths he needed. Subconsciously he sniffed, and rubbed the back of his hand over his nose to cover the sound of his stomach as it grumbled.
"Alright. Sit." And in that moment with her hands on her hips tenting the cloaks she was wearing so she resembled a tree herself, Djaq looked so unbelievably adorable he couldn't help but smirk. This was evidently not the look she was going for as she glared and shoved him in the shoulder until Will relented and sat down.
"Sorry, sorry. I know you're serious."
"I am." She plopped down next to him and pressed her side against his. Will was far from cold. If anything he had worked up a significant sweat building but her presence was comforting even if he didn't realise he needed it to be. "What is the matter? You were like this last December too."
"It's his mum, Djaq."
John did not say much most of the time, which is why his quiet observation of Will's mood took the younger people by surprise.
"How did you…" Will started and trailed off before he really knew what he was going to ask. Of course John had known his mother, he was from Loxley too. But unlike the rest of them, John had been outlawed far, far longer. Long enough to not know that he had a son.
Will had been so young at the time when John was presumed dead, that he did not recognise John when they first met in the forest three years ago.
"Jane was a good friend to my Alice. I was sorry when I heard she had passed." John nodded slowly and sighed when the looks on Will and Djaq's faces demanded further clarification. "Dan told me about it when he came last year."
Will nodded slowly, his gaze dropping from John to the dry and crunching leaves beneath his boots. That seemed to be enough confirmation for Djaq who reached over and placed her small hand on his knee. "That is why winter's are difficult for you."
"Yeah… this time of winter anyway. Hasn't been wonderful for my family. The year after that, my dad lost his hand."
"This seems...I'll just…" Seemingly unable to finish his sentence, Little John just stopped talking instead and with a final glance at the two young lovebirds trudged off into the trees.
"I'm sorry, Will."
"It's alright." Will shrugged and placed his hand over Djaq's who turned hers in his grasp and squeezed it fondly. "Really isn't much different to anyone else in the villages anymore. Plenty of families have it worse than we did."
"That does not lessen your pain. Do not sweep it aside, it is only me here you do not need to be so noble all the time. How old were you?"
"...Seventeen." As he slowly looked up and saw how wide her eyes had gone, he could tell she hadn't been expecting it to have been so recent. Four years did not seem like such a long time when he considered how drastically his life had changed in that time.
"Well then of course it is still hard for you. Will…"
"But shouldn't it be getting easier?"
"It will. Or it will be easier to deal with it." And a flicker of sorrow appeared in her brown eyes as her hand squeezed his a little tighter. Suddenly Will felt selfish. She was so in tune with his feelings and his moods and yet he forgot sometimes to ask if she was okay. She had lost as much as he had, even more. He still had his brother in Scarborough, Saffiyah did not.
She must have read his face as she turned and drew her hand from his to place both on his cheeks. "You men are all just as ridiculous as each other. You're allowed to show that you can feel. And your father, although I admit I only met him the one time, would be incredibly proud of you."
Maybe that was what it really was because a familiar stab of guilt pricked at Will's heart and made him draw away a little.
"I don't like this time of the year…" He began slowly, "Not only because watching people starve is horrific, but because I feel like it's my fault things went as wrong as they did."
"...how is it your fault? If anything it is the Sheriff's fault."
"...My mother died because she told us she was eating and she wasn't. Because she made Luke and I eat in her place."
"She could not see her children starve. You cannot blame yourself for existing, Will."
"Yeah, but I do a little bit, and it was definitely my fault that my dad lost his hand and couldn't work anymore."
"Because you wanted to make sure people could eat-"
"And so I should have been the one that was punished." Will finished, biting down hard on the inside of his lip, "I wasn't a kid, I was eighteen and he took it anyway." Some of the last bitter things he'd argued about with his father flashed through his mind and the guilt was back. "...what bothers me is that it's my actions, and my words but other people keep paying for them. With hands, with lives…"
Warm arms encircled him and he didn't even notice the tears that had been forming until one escaped and slid down his cheek, Again he cursed himself for it. He could be quiet and not speak his mind very easily, but when his emotions got the better of him, he hated it. He drew in a shuddering breath and leaned into Djaq's arms, let her stretch up and kiss the top of his head to comfort him.
"That is what it means to love someone. I do not think you would even hesitate to do the same thing for your children, whether they are stupid and impulsive or not."
A weary sort of laugh escaped his lips and he leaned back to look at her with a strange sort of smile. That was the first time she had spoken as though they had a future to plan. It had been unsaid until this moment, that they even planned to marry. Which of course they both seemed to instinctively know anyway, he would ask her in a moment if he thought that was what Djaq wanted. But similarly, they also both knew that it was not the time.
She could read his thoughts as plainly as though he'd said them out loud and her compassionate expression was immediately replaced with a raised eyebrow and a soft laugh, "Do not get any ideas in your head just yet, Will Scarlett, are you crazy? We live in a forest."
Will laughed again, a little more genuine this time and leaned forward to capture her lips quickly with his own. It did not matter how many times he kissed her, it felt warmer every time and each time it was harder and harder now to move apart.
"My mum would have loved you."
"I wish I could say the same of my own parents...but you are English and you have offered no goats in exchange for my hand so I do not think they would have approved. But Bassam likes you, and that is almost the same." She laughed, and he was taken for a moment with how pretty she looked. A few simple changes had made her nearly unrecognisable from the disguised Saracen slave she had been when they first met.
"What?"
She had caught him staring, and, though he had no reason to be embarrassed Will felt heat rise to his cheeks again.
"Nothing. You just...I don't know. There's something…"
"Eloquent as ever." Djaq smiled and burrowed back into the cloak that shrouded her. She rose to her feet and for a moment swayed there, overtaken by a wave of dizziness. "I'm fine, I just have not had enough water." She raised a dark hand, silencing Will's concern before he could voice it just as John, ever well timed, made his reappearance.