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Will sat back on a log, watching Mauch and Robin crouch low over Little John's hastily drawn map of the immediate area around the castle, and a schedule for the next week of when nobles would be coming in and out of the area that Alan-a-dale "just happened" to have.
The air was beginning to turn chill with autumn and half the leaves now littered the ground around them, making a crisp carpet of red and brown across the forest floor. The sky he could see through the remaining leaves was a bright, clear blue with shafts of sunlight cutting through them and turning the forest into a show of golden light and bright leaves. The fire they had going for a constant supply of coffee spat sparks into the air, glowing fiercely in the shadow of a tree.
Will's mind turned to other things from there; this journey was supposed to take a very short period of time, to teach the apprentices. But his apprentice had already blown the prospect of a nice, clean job... he sighed inaudibly as he watched Robin push her hair out of her face, which was already showing the black it had once been at the roots. She glanced up and saw him watching her, and waved him over.
He stood and brushed the leaves off his backside, stepping around the fire pit and sliding to his knees between Robin and Mauch, peering down at the map and Alan's list.
"So, judging by this," Robin began, jabbing a finger at the list. "There should be a noble coming down the main northern road at around dawn tomorrow, attempting to avoid thieves."
Will looked at the list, then the map, impressed. He could immediately see what had led her to this conclusion: the name of the noble was hastily written on the list, Isabella of Retindale.Redindale was a small village up north a ways, not even marked on the map. It would be inferable, then, she'd be coming down the north road, and probably around dawn because most thieves stop hunting by then, and the morning thieves aren't up and running.
"How did you know Retindale's to the north? Why not east or south?" Will asked, looking at his apprentice.
"My father died in a battle there," she responded, her voice crisp. Will could tell he'd touched a sensitive spot, and didn't push further.
"Right, good work," he told the two apprentices, clapping them on their shoulders, and standing. His knees popped in protest, and he grumbled inwardly: Maybe he WAS getting like Halt. He was only in his twenties, and already his knees were bothering him... he stretched, and glanced up at the sky.
The bright blue sky was beginning to turn pink and purple with a setting sun, stars peeking out of the darker eastern sky. His stomach grumbled in response, and he went and pulled his skillet and a pot from his bags. He grabbed a wineskin and a water skin and his bag of herbs and potatoes before settling himself by the fire, pouring a thin layer of water into the bottom of the skillet and finding some of the raw meat from the deer that the others had brought back earlier, and began making his stew.
He heard excited whispers as Robin, Mauch and Gilan talked animatedly about a plan for attacking the carriage.
"Brilliant!" Gilan said happily, as they finally settled on a tactic. "They won't know what hit 'em!"
As the sky blackened above, and the little pinpricks of stars shone through the leaves, and the fire glowed brighter and sent up showers of sparks as more logs were added, and they crowded around the fire, stretching back and smelling the cooking meat (which Will added potatoes and herbs to as the meat crisped, dashing in a healthy amount of water and red wine) and drinking their coffee.
As the moon rose high above them, turning the forest into a ghostly silver-blue shade, the stew finished cooking and they ate until their belts were uncomfortably tight and had to be loosened a few notches. Coffee was drained, and the fire grew low, allowing the cool autumn breeze to brush through their hair, lulling them into a peaceful sleep.
