Chapter 6

Not again. How come every time I went to Nottingham something hit me? I stared groggily at what was around me. I seemed to be in a small room and short, ugly little man stood in front of me.

He popped a grape in his mouth. "I say," he said, squirting juice out of his mouth. "You're rather pretty for a rebel."

"What?"

"Shut up." He spat the grape seed out. "Tell me, do you know who I am?"

"Sorry, no. Why did someone hit me?"

He laughed. Ugh. "My dear girl, I am the Sherriff. As for why the officer hit you, well, he wanted to get your guard down obviously, by asking you to sing and then be able to knock you unconscious."

I smiled sarcastically. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"No dear." He untied my hands and feet from the chair I was sitting in. "My soldiers are merely going to take you outside to the square and teach you and the townspeople a lesson."

This man wasn't very intimidating, but when he said that I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up.

Outside, the soldiers locked my hands down on a wooden plank and I knelt in front of the crowd that had been forced to gather. I tried to swallow, but the lump in my throat wouldn't let me. "Are you going to chop my head off?" I asked the Sherriff.

"My, my! You are so amusing! I rather fancy keeping you around. No. Listen closely and no more questions." He raised his voice and addressed the crowd. "My people! Prince John's people! This pretty girl sang a song at our dear Sir Gisbourne's request a few weeks past. Well, it was a rather rebellious song and hmmm, now she has to pay for it. So! You all know, that you can't try sneaky little things like that. Watch closely, especially you girls."

I was so terrified, I couldn't remember any prayers. The soldier bent my head forward and suddenly – Snip! All my hair fell to the ground.

"Not so pretty now, hm?" The Sherriff walked away.

My hair… it was gone. As soon as they unlocked my hands and let me go, I touched the jagged ends that hung unevenly around my neck. I should have been so grateful! I could have lost a finger, or even a hand. But my stupid vanity was wounded and I started weeping like a baby.

I arrived back at camp and everyone was there. Djaq saw me crying and grabbed me in a bear hug. "Where have you been? We were all so worried when Will and Alan said they couldn't find you and we've been looking since yesterday for you! Colleen, what's the matter?"

I hiccupped. "The Sherriff had my hair cut off."

Alan laughed and John jabbed him hard in the ribs.

Djaq stared at the ground. "Oh… Colleen…"

"And all the while, thinking about how lucky I am to still have all my fingers, toes and hands, I've been bawling my eyes out over my hair. I didn't even realize I was gone overnight."

Robin looked grave. "You were captured by the Sherriff?"

"Oh yes, that. Not because of you. Because how those three weeks ago I sang to Gisbourne."

He furrowed his eyebrows. "We'll hold a service for the loss of your hair tonight."

"It's not funny." I sat down next to Will. "I mean, it is. No…" I sighed.

"You aren't making any sense." Will put a hand on my shoulder.

John, on my other side, tousled my hair. "I like it."

"Still," Djaq touched her own, cropped hair. "It's hard for a girl to lose her hair."

"I'm glad most of you aren't laughing at me for the absurdity of crying over it." I said.

Alan guffawed. "Colleen, you were captured by the Sherriff and you come home crying over a new hair cut."

Will threw something at him. "Nerves. It's shock, alright?"

The next morning, everyone was out and I was making lunch. I hummed and whistled as I made everyone's-not-favorite-on-a-summer-day, soup. I jumped nearly three feet when someone suddenly did that thing where they poke you on the sides from behind. I spun around and slapped the culprit full across the face with my spoon.

It was Will and he stumbled backwards, holding his jaw. My hand flew to my mouth.

"Are you alright?" I whispered.

"You have violent reflexes."

"You keep your hands to yourself!" I was a little mad at him for doing that. "I am sorry though. Did I hurt you very badly?"

He shrugged. "I'm alright." He handed me a folded blanket. "I picked this up for you yesterday."

It wasn't a blanket; it was the green fabric I'd bought. Now I felt like an even more terrible person. I hugged it to myself. "Thanks…" I fished in my pocket for the money I owed. "Here."

"No." He smiled and walked away.

I unfolded the soft material and something fell out. It was small and bright.

Silver thread.