"John! John, are you all right?"
Someone was shaking him. Nancy's face loomed into view. "John, what's going on? Are you just tired or is it bad news?"
"Susan. She's sick. Titty says they're frightened." John got up slowly.
"How bad is it?"
"Bad. Titty wants to know if I—we, I expect—can get over to Nottingham. But I'm already in hot water with Will over leaving the swords out in the rain and with Robin over the dammed salt." John began to pace about, trying to contain himself. "He won't let us go without at least strong words about it and probably he won't let us go at all."
Nancy's eyes gleamed. "Then, we'll have to sneak out."
This sounded like a very bad idea to John. He had heard all about the Ds' sneaking in on Nancy's idea into Captain's Flint's study and knew that a second or three could have meant the difference between a lot of trouble and their success. He did not want their collective lives to roll on a similar scheme, especially as it would not mean just trouble, but their food and homes, of a sort. But what were the options?
"Wandering Jack would be the easiest to get past, if Robin ever posts him again, that is," Nancy said reflectively. "Jacob might work as well, but it'd have to be a moonless night at the very least. I wouldn't chance it on the others, unless we can get one of them 'round to our side with the story. Little John or Martin might hear either of us out. I could talk to Hugh, but he's not very high up..." Her voice trailed off as she tapped her lip.
"What's the matter, John, Nathan?" Dick had ambled up sometime in his own disconcerting way and John looked up into his round, worried face. "I thought everything was going well...?"
"Susan's sick and Titty's scared. They want us to somehow get to Nottingham and John thinks Robin won't let us." Nancy spared John the trouble of answering.
"Why not?"
"Salt, rust, the burnt parsnips last sen'night, ripped clothes, we've only been around ten or so days and the fact that someone knows our faces as outlaws' faces." Nancy shrugged.
John knew of several other reasons, but now did not seem like a good time to bring up the fact that Nancy had nicked three swords, providing Wandering Jack with a day's work fixing them, and Dick had fallen into the brook and spoiled Allan's new red coat, turning pink in the process. No one really knew that they had taken the wine for dinner as well, not to mention that he himself had overheard a conversation he shouldn't have. Also he and Nance had reputations now. Dick's wasn't too bad, but Nance had gained herself a risky reputation among the men, a fact which Robin did not like.
"Is there any other way we could get into Nottingham? Some fair or festival or market day? Some of the men go each time to get stuff that we need and I've been once already," Dick said, plucking at a small harp.
"Dick, would you stop that? And when did you get to go, lucky?" Nancy asked.
"Five days ago. Friar Tuck told Robin that I hadn't been seen and that it would be good for me. I think he likes me."
"But that was before Derwynt got caught two days ago. Robin won't let anyone go to town for at least a fortnight now, Walt says, even though Derwynt got back safely" John said, slumping back down. Why does Dick get all the luck?
"Well, there's always my plan," Nancy said
To which John said "No!" and Dick said "What?" in the same tone of voice.
"Dick, it's just another plan along the lines of that little run-in you had with her aunt." John said. "We don't need that to happen again."
"Ah. Well, did you read the rest of the letters?" Dick asked.
"No..."
"You should read the most recent one. Susan might be better. Dot never said anything about her in the three letters I got and they might have been more recent." Dick sat down. "I can help you go through the letters if you like..."
John was already ruffling through the stack. "Here, Dick, thanks." He tossed a few over to him.
Bridget loosing a tooth, Titty's promotion from kitchen maid to Marian's maid, troubles of the new life, worries about them, (this was a bit Susan-ish, John thought) going to a fair, Bridget talking about an automobile (he decided to come back to that one later), Titty wrapping the house about her fingers with her stories, love to all of them, was there anything else she had written about?
No.
"John, I can't see anything else about them in these," Dick said, passing them back.
John groaned out loud. "Ugggh!"
"You lads need a bit of help here?
It was Friar Tuck, peering through the bushes. Nancy frowned and John inwardly sighed, but Dick's face lit up.
"Friar Tuck, is there any chance Robin would let us off to go to the next fair? John's sister is taken ill, and she asks for at least him, if not all of us."
"Well, lad-o, I know I could get you off for another day. Might be rather harder for your kin," he answered, coming up. "Would that be enough?"
John looked up. "Could we just...ask?" he asked desperately. "I don't know what else to do!"
"Now, now, let's not get all worried about this. Did she date her letters, son?"
"No!"
John was very worked up by now, Nancy reflected as he brushed the friar's hand away and began to pace about. "Well...maybe just John and Dick?" she asked.
Friar Tuck tut-tutted and patted her arm. "I'll work on it, laddie. But it might help if you reined thy temper in and endeavored to control your actions."
Nancy looked at John and rolled her eyes comically, trying to raise a smile as Friar Tuck visibly thought. It didn't work.
The friar hauled himself to his feet with his jolly grin. "Well, this isn't a bad time to ask th'master, Dick, my lad-o. Would you come with me and see if we can catch us a Robin?"
Nancy laughed and Dick bounced on his toes. "Yes indeed!"
John raised his eyebrows and followed them, doggedly trying to tune out Dick's questions about Latin verbs and feeling as if no one cared.
After skirting around the table and the drunks at it (Allen was singing horribly, Tom was dancing and Will Scarlet along with Bart roared along in something that they probably thought was harmony), John's anger had simmered down into a splitting headache and a dull sort of feeling about the whole situation. What could they do, anyway?
Dick dodged Robert's attempts to pull him towards the table as they continued out of the dinning glen. "And why do we still use the archaic verb forms at all, Friar Tuck?"
Great galumphing goats, is he STILL on Latin?
"Why don't y—we move to writing the good English, anyway?" Nancy asked.
"Because Latin is the language of scholars and thinkers, Greensleeves, and gives them the abilities to obtain the learnings of the sages. Now, about those verbs, Dick. You have shown..."
John shook his heard and promptly tripped over a sleeping Stutely. "Wuzzat?" he muttered, grabbing at John's feet.
"You all right, John?" Nancy asked.
"No." John stepped on Stutely's hand and kept going.
Nancy moved closer. "You know, that's not going to help. We're going as fast as we can."
He sighed.
Nancy patted him. "We'll be fine."
Past the sleeping tents, the targets, where was Robin?
Ah! Music floated down the breeze to them. "He's dancing with the Lady Marian," Friar Tuck said. "That's good."
They cut across to the creek and came upon Little John playing a recorder and Robin and Marian dancing in the moonlight. "Best wait here, lads. She'll have to go soon, but we need her on our side," the friar whispered. "Don't disturb them."
The dance seemed to go on forever, but at last Little John trilled a last note and the two dancers broke apart with a bow and a curtsy.
"Friar Tuck! What brings you here?" Robin called, waving them over.
"Well, Robin, the young lads have a bit of the bad news that they need to ask you about and I thought that maybe you'd give them a listen for me."
"Ah?"
Friar Tuck waddled closer. "Come, come."
The three huddled together. John bit his thumb. Could they possibly make it work?
Robin shook his head and began to turn away. Oh no!
Nancy poked him. Marian was pulling at his hand and whispering in his ear! And Friar Tuck was wagging his fingers in a most determined fashion. It looked like it still might work…
Robin threw up his hands. "Fine! But if anything should happen..."
"Robin, what could possibly happen?" Marian asked, taking his arm and walking towards them. "They just want to see their sister. Surely you can understand."
"And, and I'll be right with them. It will all be well."
Robin sighed loudly. "Very well. You have my word."