A/N: I had to post this chapter sooner rather than later, as it was running away with the plot! I hope you enjoy it.
Chapter Seven: Settling In.
One would think that John, Nancy and Dick would be able to get along pretty well with Robin's men; indeed, that they would be better prepared than most. After all, they had done quite a bit of hiking, sailing, and living on their own away from civilization during the holidays and had toughed up somewhat. Besides, they knew it was going to be hard and rough living and had few rosy expectations about the life they were about to live.
However, this was very much harder than the simple camping and exploring trips they had done in the past, and far exceeded their wildest expectations.
For one thing, the sheer amount of lying they had to do drained even Nancy's imagination. How else could they explain the fact that they knew so little about just living? The simplest thing eluded them. Who knew washing clothes—without soap or hot water—was so hard that it took an entire morning? Not to mention the mending! Or sharping knives on a turning stone? And of course, someone (John, this time) had to provide an explanation for why they didn't know how to do it—"The girls did all that sort of work at home" which was fortunately accepted by Allan-a-Dale and Jacob th'Wheelwright who were at that time working with them.
Not so the explanation for why Nancy didn't bathe with the rest of the men on the tenth day. "He can stay and watch the dinner," Dick suggested, only to be told that they weren't planning on eating dinner that day and where had his head been at the noon meal! John hastily interjected that he and Nathan needed to mend their extra hose anyway before they could change, so they would take their bath later together. This did not cover them completely, as Will Scarlet and Wandering Jack gave Nancy scrutinizing and doubting looks, but at least got her out of communal bathing. Even Dick was relieved after that incident!
Second, the fact that they were expected to do as much work as the men did, and do it well was not something they were ready for in any but the slightest of ways. This was the factor that exhausted all of them and made some days so difficult that they all were about ready to lay down and ignore everything, no matter what the consequences might be. Dick had the hardest time out of the three, but even John thought on some days that he couldn't take another step, let alone finish the work.
One of the most memorable incidents of this time occurred when Nancy did not listen or attend to Little John's instructions during a quarterstaff bout and let out her own style of fighting. Due to the terrain, a blocking move from Little John let the point of his staff hit her in the stomach as she fell forward onto it. She promptly threw up all over his arms and spent the rest of the day in bed, refusing all food and attention.
Another moment that burned into John's memory was when Dick spent a whole morning once scraping a deerhide, only to double over in agonizing cricks by sunset, biting his hand to contain his moans. Tom discovered him huddled in a pile of blankets when he could not be found for dinner. Robin scolded Martin hard for not showing Dick how to prop the hide properly up and let Dick off the evening's work of tending to the swords and bows, but John spent most of the night trying to help Dick find somewhere where he could at least find relief from the pain, let alone sleep!
But worst of all were the mass of small aches, pains, misunderstandings and struggles that they faced on a day to day basis. These dragged them down and hurt so much that each one of them knew the others had cried some nights, but they mutually avoided the subject.
The worst was that they still did not know where Susan, Peggy, Rodger and Dot were. John had asked Robin and he had promised to alert his men to keep an eye out. However, he warned them that at this point, "Your friends are better off without you. Y'r on the run, boys, and the Sheriff has a mighty long memory."
That was the end of the subject, and it never came up again.
Physically, they all were strained to the breaking point time and time again. Nancy's fingers continually throbbed with the abnormal amount of shooting practice she had been assigned and the strain of making arrows night after night, under the careful eye of Robin himself. Her head swam with images of targets, feathers, sticks and his commands to not hurry the work and aim so much, by the mantle of our Lady! John's arms ached from carrying anything from sacks of flour, deer meat or hide and the inevitable piles and piles of wood. These last were because he had been assigned the band's woodgatherer, having been deemed too unskilled for blacksmithying or repairing/building the huts of the band. It was some consolation that Will Studely gave him daily lessons in advanced swordsmanship in the rough and dirty style of the outlaws, but this just added to the aches and strained muscles. Dick, after much experiment, was deemed small and sickly and set to learn Latin under Friar Tuck's guidance. This led to much good-natured teasing (and some ill-natured) which, however, hurt Dick more than he let on. He also began to play the harp and lute of Allan-a-Dale and learned many songs, which he enjoyed more and gained him many blisters along with the experience.
When asked by Nancy how he could sing so well, it came out that he had been a choir boy and could play the piano very well.
"That's really good! You never told us that you could sing!" Nancy said, smiling, proud of her friend.
He shrugged. "You never asked," he quietly answered, turning away.
John winced. It was true that they had never asked, or really did thing that the D's wanted to do other than sail, explore and make trouble. (that was mostly Nancy!) How much don't we know about them? he wondered, looking after Dick as he walked into a hut to put away the lute.
But Little John called "Hey, John Inventor, when I can cease turnin' th'spit?" and he hurried over to the dinner.
For John was the camp cook now! After dealing with one too many ill-cooked and burnt meals when Robert Widemouth was sick for three days in a row, he had taken charge of a roast of meat, seasoning it with wild onions and salt as best he could. He also toasted the rest of the bread and served it all up that evening with brown ale and the last of that milk instead of that sour wine.
Everyone liked it and Robin announced that they had a new cook! Since then, he and Robert took it turn and turn about to cook for the band and John greatly preferred it to his previous job of gathering wood, which had been delegated to the newest member of the band, a young man outlawed for stealing deer. John gave him a hand sometimes, remembering how hard it had been for him.
He sprinkled salt over the meat carefully, knowing how expensive and hard to get it was. This he had learned the hard way when he had spilled a box of it into the fire once and Robin had been very angry about it. Turning to the other side of the fire, he arranged the drippings tray slightly and gave a careful stir to the pot of boiling parsnips. He stood up, pleased with his work. I'll try a gravy next time, if I can see Titty soon, he mentally noted, considering the amount of dripping he had and how monotonous parsnips were becoming. Robin had told him last night that the lady was coming the next day and to make something 'specially good. He had hopes that this dinner would be that.
Looking about, he saw Friar Tuck and Dick working on an old scroll at the long table. Dick pointed to something and asked a soft question, to which Friar Tuck nodded and answered in the same low tones. John couldn't hear what they were saying but Dick looked studiously happy and the friar was smiling.
Nancy's clear laugh from behind made him turn just in time to see Hugh, Robin's cousin raise his hand to signal the end of his match with Nancy. She had won! John smiled as she shook hands with Hugh and he clapped her on the back.
It looked jolly well like they all had a place here by now. John tested his parsnips, and found them done. He felt good all over as he twirled the spit and sprinkled some onion on the meat.
Life is good, he reflected as he tipped the water out of the pot and added the drippings, mashing it with a spoon. Mashed parsnips would be out of the ordinary and hopefully new to all—including the Lady Marian!
If we only had Titty and Bridget here and knew about the others, or if we were all here, it would be great.
And of course, if we knew how we were going to get home.
He pulled a sour face, his good mood gone like a burst bubble.
Where where the others?
There was one person who might know, but...
He set his jaw tight and firmly grasped the spoon. They were his responsibility, after all.
I'll ask Marian.
Thanks for reading!