Author's Note: Forgive the delay. This chapter took a bit of revising and rewriting. I kept trying to make it better. I hope you like it.
Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves
The Long Road Home By Ecri
Part 6: Conversations
"Oh, I will have satisfaction for that, Lady Marian!" The Duke took several steps closer to Robin and Will, his hand firmly drawing his blade as his other hand swept Marian aside so she could not interfere.
Will fumbled for his boot to draw his blade again, but Robin stood between Will and the point of the Duke's sword.
"I cannot let you harm him, nor does protocol give you the right to skewer him like a pig." Robin spoke softly, his eyes locked on the Duke's and his own hand resting on the hilt of the sword he'd retrieved from the Sheriff that had once belonged to his father.
The Duke took this in and scoffed, his face twisting into a derisive sneer. "You stand ready to fight on behalf of rabble?"
Robin remembered a time when he'd used that word in reference to the men of Sherwood Forest. He shook his head more at his own stupidity and short sightedness than the Duke's. He shifted slightly to keep Will out of the Duke's sight, as he spoke again to defend his brother.
"I will fight for any man whose cause is just. This one perhaps a bit more readily."
"This one?" The Duke cast a disparaging look at Will, who stood so still and wide-eyed safely behind Robin's back. "What on earth could make this one so special? He is hardly worth Noblemen spilling each other's blood, Lord Locksley."
"He is worth ten time more than many a Nobleman I have met either here or while I was fighting in the Crusades."
The Duke laughed. "Your conviction is admirable but misplaced, Robin of Locksley. Step aside. I have every right to demand his life."
"You will have to go through me to get to my brother, Your Grace."
Robin heard Will gasp and felt the younger man grab his arm, but he ignored it. He continued to stare at the Duke.
"Brother?" The Duke's eyes narrowed in his confusion. "I know you have fought side by side with these…people…for some time. Word of the deeds of 'Robin of the Hood' has reached London, and you will answer to the Crown for your part in these crimes, whether it be Richard or John."
Robin saw Marian stiffen at the subtle questioning of King Richard's authority, but the Duke merely continued. He likely hadn't noticed or just as likely wasn't concerned with a woman's opinion.
"It's understandable that you consider them brothers-in-arms, but…"
Robin interrupted. "I do consider them that, but this man is my brother. He is the son of my father and the only blood relation I have left in the world. I value his life more than my own, and I will not let you have it."
The Duke stared at Robin for several moments. Robin knew he was considering his options, his so-called rights, and what propriety dictated after having accepted Lady Marian's hospitality.
He could feel Will behind him, his grip on Robin's arm tightened, but Robin did not have the time to turn and check on his brother. The Duke had all of his attention.
Tension filled the courtyard as the Duke weighed his options, and Robin dearly hoped the man would show some wisdom and depart so that he could sit down with Will and discuss his accusations.
To his relief, and the obvious relief of the others, the Duke again returned his sword to its scabbard and mounted his horse. When he spoke it was first to Marian.
"Lady Marian, I thank you again for your fine hospitality, and I will convey your well wishes to your cousin, Prince John." He turned to look at Robin. "As for you and your brother, I am willing to overlook this for the time being, but you had best teach him to hold his tongue in the presence of his betters."
Robin smiled. "If he is ever in the presence of his betters, I may just speak to him about that."
The Duke's patronizing smile slipped from his face and he looked over Robin's shoulder at Will who stood very still, one hand still on Robin's sleeve. "As for you, brother of Locksley, if we meet again, I should hope that you have realized your mistake."
Will took a step out from behind his brother, and Robin turned to look at him. The wide-eyed look was gone as was the slight tremble from earlier. Will was pale, but his eyes still blazed hatred and anger. "The name is Will Scarlett, and if we meet again," Will countered, his voice cold as steel and twice as hard, "you will realize your mistake."
Robin glanced at the Duke wondering if he'd let that go, but the man simply glared at Will, the anger in his own eyes almost rivaling the anger in Will's. Almost.
The Duke turned away abruptly and threw himself atop his horse. With a vicious kick to his mount, the Duke took off racing out of the Courtyard and away from Marian's home.
Only then did Robin notice that most of his men, the rabble as Henry, Duke of Essex had declared them, stood on the ramparts, arrows still aimed at the man as he rode away. He looked around at the men standing closer to them, and every one was armed whether with swords and daggers or pitchforks and clubs. He doubted the Duke would have noticed. The closer the men were to where Robin and Will stood, the less obvious were their weapons, but Robin knew things could have turned deadly in moments.
He sighed in relief that it hadn't gotten to that point. He looked again at Will. His brother's eyes were still full of emotion as he watched the Duke ride away, and Robin thought for a moment that Will might give chase. His hand clenched the knife from his boot and Robin wondered when he'd managed to retrieve it. As he watched, Will's hand began to shake and his knuckles turned white with the force of his grip. Gently, Robin took Will's hand and began to pry the knife from it. Will turned his angry eyes on Robin, but when he realized what Robin was doing, he released the knife.
Robin saw how pale Will was. He was standing through sheer force of will, and Robin wasn't sure how long that would last. He reminded himself that Will had only been out of bed for a day or two and was still recovering from the injuries he'd received courtesy of Nottingham. The lashes stood out starkly against the pale skin where Will's shirt exposed them, and the lump on the side of his head, while smaller, was still noticeable.
"Will," Robin whispered. It was all he needed to say. Will nodded in mute agreement, his eyes downcast as he allowed Robin to lead him back inside to the room they shared.
It was a quiet walk to the room and once inside Will sat upon the bed allowing Robin to see how drained he was.
Robin moved a chair to the bedside and sat in front of Will. He leaned forward. "I understand if you can't talk about it, but I would like to know what makes you think he killed your mother."
"I don't think it," Will insisted. "I know it. I saw it." He looked at Robin and Robin saw the truth of his words in his eyes.
Robin had known Will's mother was dead, but he hadn't considered that the boy his brother had been might have witnessed anything like a murder. "Will you tell me?" He wasn't sure if Will would share this with him. He was a very guarded young man.
Will sighed, and Robin could see that he would rather forget it all. Instead he had his own questions. "What you said to him…you told him who I was…"
"Did you think I'd keep it a secret?"
"Yes!" Will blurted the word out and Robin could see he regretted it. "I mean…it's what I would expect from a…"
"From a spoiled, arrogant nobleman?"
"Well, yes…"
"I've changed. You've changed. The Crusades made me more willing to listen, to believe…I like the notion that you're my brother, Will. I've no one else."
"You have the Lady Marian. Your peers…"
"I have Marian…once we come to a formal understanding. My best friend died outside of a prison in Azeem's homeland. Duncan was my last link to the life I had before I left home. Even Marian…our relationship was much different before I left for the Crusades. I admit I have friends here…Azeem, John, Fanny, Bull, Much…but I have no family…" he paused and took Will's arms in his hands tightening his grip to lend emphasis to his words. "…Except for you."
Will's eyes searched Robin's and he realized that Will did that a lot. It was as if he were trying to estimate the truth behind Robin's words. He wondered if Will did the same to anyone to whom he spoke or if it were a unique part of their relationship. He wasn't sure what would be better. Robin clung to his brother and to the hope that whatever he was searching for in his eyes, Will would find it.
After a time that seemed interminable to Robin, but was likely only a few moments, Will sighed heavily and began his story. He shifted on the bed and stared down at the blankets, his hair falling to obscure his face.
"I was seven years old when I learned the truth. My mother hadn't meant to tell me about my father. I'm not sure why. I'd come home that day with a black eye. The boys I'd known most of my life had begun to call me names I didn't understand. Bastard. Whoreson. They called my mum names as well, scarlet woman, hussy, loose woman. That day, when I refused to tell her why I'd been fighting, she went into a rage. I'd never kept anything from her before. I had to tell her, though I didn't much understand it.
"She was quiet at first and I thought she might let it go. Then she explained that my father was not some common man, but that he was a Lord. That he had loved her very much, but circumstances kept them apart. I didn't really understand any of that. Then it occurred to me that calling me a bastard cast a disparaging light not on me, but really more on her and on my father. She would never say a cross word about him. She loved him. It took another 2 years before she would tell me who he was.
"When she finally did, I began to walk to the grounds and try to catch a glimpse of him, but it never worked. I didn't know who I was looking for. All I knew was his name and that he was a Lord. To my mind that meant he was wealthy, and to a child who doesn't have food or warmth or any of the things money can buy…well, I expected someone dressed in gold and silver with rubies and diamonds dripping off his cloak. I never saw anything like that."
Robin nodded. "He never flaunted his wealth."
Will shrugged. "I had no way of knowing that, let along of imagining that. It was another year before all I did have came to a crashing halt. I never considered my mother a harlot. Not really. She didn't sleep with men for money when I was younger. She cleaned for them. She did their washing. She did odd jobs and whatever she needed to do to be sure we would make it through each winter.
"It was in my 9th winter, she had no choice but to succumb to the one thing she'd never intended to do. We'd had a dry summer. There was nothing left to eat in the house. We tried trading for food. I did what I could in the way of repairs, and hiring myself out, but I was small for my age and couldn't do the work of a grown man, and most people couldn't afford to part with what they had anyway. If I managed to find work, the pay wasn't good." Will stopped and swallowed several times. He looked up at the ceiling as if in supplication for strength to get through the story.
Robin placed a hand on his shoulder, and Will looked at it. He wouldn't look Robin in the eye, but he did put his own hand on top of Robin's as if holding it there…as if making sure it was real, and somehow believing that it would be snatched away if what he said was displeasing somehow.
"Mum knew this man who had offered money for her…favors…before. She'd always turned him down. He didn't live in our village, but he stayed at a nearby inn while traveling, so he was there often. He laughed at her when she went to him, but he took her to his bed. I know because I went with her. I waited outside, of course, but I heard enough before I disobeyed her and ran far enough away not to hear anything. He paid her in bread and meat. I begged her not to do it. I noticed a slow shift in the way others in the village treated us. The boys began to call me names more regularly…worse names, cruder names. Women rushed their children away when we passed. Others turned their backs or said crude things. I was in more fights."
Robin interrupted. This was obviously difficult for Will, and he regretted asking. "Will, you don't have to…"
"I want…I want you to know, brother."
Robin nodded, and slowly, Will continued.
"There wasn't much choice. She did it for me. To keep me fed, and it felt awful. I felt responsible. I began to wish I'd never been born. If I hadn't been, maybe she'd have had other options. The more she had to do it, the more strained our relationship became. I had to stay away from home most nights and even some days as she began to take on more and more…clients. I became bitter. I walked around the village with a chip on my shoulder, almost inviting the insults I knew would come. I fought more often, but I learned something from each fight and I usually won. I was getting a reputation as a bad influence on the other boys.
"Mum's work affected her as well. She was getting short-tempered, quick to yell at me, afraid I would come home while she was…working. She hit me more and more frequently…" He rubbed absently at his arm then as if at a remembered pain, "…but I never blamed her. It was our circumstances. It…It was me. My fault. If she'd been alone, if she hadn't had a child to care for, she might have found a husband. She might have had an easier life if not for me."
Robin's heart broke as Will's voice deepened with remorse and guilt. What have I done? He thought. It wasn't Will's fault. That much was obvious. It was Robin's. If he had but considered the consequences of his anger toward his father, Will might have grown up with him in Locksley Castle. He might have had a brother. He might have had a chance to teach him things…how to ride, how to fight with a sword, how to woo a young lady.
"Will," Robin began. "You're not to blame. You were a child. Any mother would do as much for her child. It only proves she loved you."
Will nodded, but Robin could tell he didn't really believe it. Piss and wind, John had told him, but the more Robin looked, the more he saw the truth. Will might be piss and wind, but it hid insecurities, anxieties, and feelings of worthlessness. Robin didn't know how he would go about making things up to his brother.
Will continued his story. "One night, when I was 10, I woke to the sound of our door slamming. Mum had run in and shut it tight. She'd been to see him that night." Will's eyes narrowed a bit and he blinked rapidly. "She seemed frightened. I asked her why, but she wouldn't say. She just kept looking out the window.
"I finally got her to tell me some of it. I'd been sick. Unable to work. We'd had less in the last few weeks because of the coughing. No one will hire a boy who looks like he can't stand, let alone work. With a cough like I had, most were afraid of catching something. She had asked her client for a little extra. He'd beaten her for it, and she'd fled, only half dressed, one shoe missing. Her foot was bloody and blue with cold. Her face was cut and scratched. Her cheek was bloodied and her lip swollen. There were bruises on her arms.
"She kept looking out of the window, and she gave a small sound I'll never forget. It was fear, defeat, and something more. The man was there. He was someone of rank, but I never knew his name. He had refused to pay, and now he taunted her with it. 'Come and get it, darling,' he repeated. She was terrified now. She told me to go out the back way and not come back until morning. I argued. I was mad and scared and I wanted to defend her, but she tossed me out the back door. I ran a short distance away and stared at the house. I told myself I'd watch until he left and go back in.
"He kept talking. Sometimes shouting, and sometimes he was speaking softly at the door. I don't' know what he said then, but the screams and sobs from my mother were louder and more…pained somehow. After a while, he flew into a rage. Before I could comprehend it, he'd broken into the house. I ran down to the door calling for her. He was hitting her when I walked in, but he stopped when he saw me. I was afraid in the face of that man, and though I'd vowed to defend my mum, I turned to run. His rage had turned him into a demon to my eyes, and I couldn't get out of there quick enough." He laughed sourly, bitterly. "I suppose I lacked courage then, too," he whispered.
"Will…" Robin began, but Will cut him off and continued his story.
"Before I could get out of the door, he grabbed my arm. Mum protested, but he backhanded her. He tied her to a chair and told her he would take me with him as compensation for her behavior. He said he knew men who would pay well for a boy my age. I supposed he was talking about selling me off as a slave or something. I'd heard of such things before, but I'd never imagined it could happen to me. I was pulling on his arm to get him to let go, but I couldn't stop him. He was too strong, and I was so small for my age.
"He dragged me towards the door, and, as we passed the fireplace, he plunged a piece of firewood from the pile into it until it burst into flame. He took it with him. I was calling for mum. I don't know if I expected to be able to save her or if I was pleading for her to save me. He laughed at me. He said other things, but I don't remember them. It was what he did that drove those things away. He stood back and…so calmly…he tossed the burning branch up onto the thatched roof. I screamed, but he just laughed louder. I couldn't break away from him, though when I dream it, I sometimes manage it.
"The house went up in flames, and the villagers came to help, but it was mostly to be sure the flames didn't spread to their own homes.
"I suppose the number of people fighting the fire frightened him off. I found myself free of him, and though I looked around, I saw no sign that he had ever been there. I pleaded with everyone to save my mum, buy they all knew better than I did that there wasn't any way to save her." Will faltered here. Tears brimmed in his eyes, but he shook his head as though that would keep them from falling. He seemed to sink lower into the bed, slumping forward a bit and wrapping his arms around himself. It took several moments before he could continue.
"It was Fanny Little who kept me from running in after her. I don't really remember running toward the flames, but she was suddenly there, in front of me, clutching me to her as I'd seen her do with her own from time to time. She was visiting her sister who lived near to my mother and me. As I fought her and screamed at everyone to save my mother, the door opened…or maybe it just burned away, I don't know. The next thing I saw was my mother, aflame and unrecognizable. She was burning and she stumbled from the house, screaming…or maybe that was me…I don't know. I don't know. I can't…I can't remember…" he seemed troubled by that, but before Robin could say anything, he continued. "I almost broke away from Fanny then, but she tightened her grip and swept me aside so I couldn't see anymore.
"I spent that night with her at her sister's house. The next day, she was returning to her own village, and she insisted I go with her. It was closer to Sherwood than where I'd lived with mum and closer to Locksley Castle as well. I stayed with Fanny a few days, but I felt I was imposing. She had children of her own to care for, and one on the way, so I left. I started to do odd jobs, to steal food if I had to, to hunt in Sherwood Forest. I did whatever I could to survive, but I wouldn't stay too long in one place. I wouldn't stay too close to people. I…was afraid of them. All of them.
"One day, I was about fifteen, I saw Lord Locksley's carriage heading toward London. I started to follow it. I don't know what I was thinking except maybe that this was my father…and I was so alone. After a mile or so, I saw the carriage had stopped. I suppose they'd been on a long journey or something and they wanted to stretch their legs. I wasn't sure which of them was my father, but I saw one of them drop something as he climbed aboard again. When I reached the spot where it had fallen, I saw it was a medallion. I picked it up and looked at it."
Will's eyes were drawn to the medallion that hung around Robin's neck. He put out a hand and ghosted his fingers along it for a moment. Robin knew then that he had indeed seen their father. Had he not taken Will in? His head swam. He'd been sure his father would have cared for Will if he had known about him. He swallowed thickly and waited fro Will to continue.
Will drew back his hand suddenly as though realizing where he was and what he was doing. He cleared his throat and started again. "I was thinking only that I could return it and maybe get a reward for it. I hadn't eaten in days, so to me a loaf of bread would have been ample reward.
"I kept following the carriage, and as I did I imagined how grateful he might be for his returned property. I imagined I might be able to tell him who I was. Then I imagined what food he might offer me, and how warm a bed in a Lord's castle might be. I was so lost in imagining, I didn't realize the carriage had stopped a short distance ahead.
"I stopped walking. A man who rode on top of the carriage next to the driver leaped down and began to walk over to me. I took a step or two backwards, but then I stopped and waited. When he reached me, he asked why I was following them. I grinned like an idiot, and held out the medallion.
"I wanted…' I began to explain, but he didn't permit me to finish. He called me a thief and yelled at the carriage to go. It took off at once, the driver not sparing the horses. I was confused and tried again to explain, but the man snatched the medallion from me and drew his knife. I drew my own from my boot. It wasn't as fine as his, but I knew how to use it.
"He was at least twice my size and I hadn't eaten in days, so I didn't put up as much of a fight as I'd imagined I would. I tried to stay out of his range, and I told him he was wrong. I explained I'd found the medallion and wanted to return it. He laughed and said that didn't matter in the least. He said the world was better off rid of a thieving peasant whatever my intentions had been. He said Lord Locksley had often expressed such an opinion himself, and had even given him orders to 'dispatch' the ragged thief and beggar as quickly as possible.
"No, Will!" Robin interrupted his brother. "Don't believe that. My father never would say such a thing. He valued life and he never counted a man's worth by the amount of money he had in his pocket."
Will swallowed and continued his story, and Robin wondered if his brother believed a word he'd just said.
"I was shocked. I'd deluded myself into believing he might be glad to find me…that a son would be welcome in his home if he just knew who I was. I slashed out with my own knife then, rage consuming me. It was the only opening he needed. I was off balance. I was a little lightheaded, and of course, he was by far the better fighter. He slashed my arm, and I dropped my own knife and fell to the ground desperate to retrieve it. He kicked me, his boot connecting with my stomach over and over.
"I thought I was about to die, but suddenly, I wasn't alone. Men surrounded us, their weapons pointed at him. John Little stepped forward, demanding a tax from the man. The man tried to offer the medallion and hide his own things, but John was shrewd and knew what he was doing. John took the man's rings, and a small bag of gold. He tossed the medallion at the man in contempt and told him he wouldn't take the belongings of one man from another in fair payment of taxes, but to tell the Lord of the Manor that if he crossed Sherwood once again, he had better be prepared to part with it. Then he beat the man soundly for what he'd done to me.
"The man walked…or rather he limped away. John and his men helped me to their camp. I've been with them ever since."
Robin sat in stunned silence. It was quite a story, and though he had no idea what he'd expected to hear from his brother, it hadn't been that. He exhaled slowly and brought a hand to ruffle his brother's hair. So precious Will had become to him, and to learn that he had caused a lifetime of suffering by his petulant, selfish, unthinking demands on his father shamed him. He was not worthy of this man's loyalty let alone his brotherly affection. He shook his head in shame.
"Will, I'm sorry."
Will smiled through tears he would not shed. "You weren't there."
"No," Robin conceded, "but I was the cause of this. It wasn't your fault, Will. It was mine. I did this to you as sure as if I'd burned the house and beat you myself. I want to make it up to you, but even if I give you my life I don't think it would be adequate compensation."
Will shook his head. "No, Robin, I don't want your life. I don't want to kill you." Robin could see realization hit him. "I don't think I ever wanted that. I…I just want…" He faltered and looked Robin in the eye. "You told Essex we were brothers. You can still take that back. You can tell him you were mistaken…let him think I tricked you. You don't have to acknowledge me in front of your peers…"
Robin wondered why Will was going on about this when it suddenly hit him. Will was still unsure of his standing in Robin's life. He couldn't blame him. He'd been through a lot, and Robin didn't know most of it. There were entire years unaccounted for in the brief retelling he'd just heard. What else, he wondered, had Will been through?
He got up from the chair and sat beside his brother. He watched one tear slip down Will's face and caught his brother as he closed the distance between them and Will was in his arms sobbing into his chest.
He waited until Will had cried himself out, which didn't take long. He was exhausted and embarrassed and no doubt feeling a bit vulnerable and overwhelmed.
Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves
Robin was hugging him.
Will Scarlett was grateful for the darkness of the room. It hid his face, the tears he could not stop, and the flush to his cheeks. He had never spoken so long in his life and certainly had never told anyone so much about himself.
The silence was almost embarrassing. The older man sat there in apparent stunned silence. "Now you know more about me than even my mother knew." He confessed the point in a whisper, afraid to look at Robin directly.
When no words seemed forthcoming, Will felt the anxiety deep within him. It was like a cold, heavy ball in the center of his stomach. It began to grow making him feel sick. He had shared too much too quickly. Robin wanted to leave him and didn't know how. Robin hated him. Robin was embarrassed by his very existence…"Say something." Will pleaded softly, his voice muffled because he was speaking directly into Robin's shoulder.
"Will, you are my brother, and I have every intention of telling the world. When Marian reaches King Richard, when all of the Sherwood outlaws are finally pardoned, I intend to petition the King to name you legal heir to half my father's possessions. The land, title, castle—such as it is—everything that remains including his good name—will belong to you as much as to me. We are brothers, Will, and I mean to make you understand how important that is to me."
Will blinked in surprise. "But…after what I've told you…about my mother and what she did, what she became…you don't know how I lived after she d-died."
"I'll know when and if you choose to tell me, Will. As for your mother, she did what she had to do to care for you, and I will only ever be grateful to her for doing it, and if she were here I would beg her pardon for causing her so much pain and heartache." He held onto Will, waiting as Will's eyes again searched his own for the truth of what he said
"Why?" Will asked, his skeptical nature unable to keep the question at bay.
"What?" Robin asked, nonplussed.
"Why do you believe me? No one ever believes me. You didn't at first. In Sherwood, you said I was lying…but then you stopped…and embraced me. Why? What changed?"
Robin smiled. "You are an astonishing man, Will Scarlett! Even when things go in your favor, you distrust them!"
"I have had good reason."
The simple words wiped the smile from Robin's face, and Will almost regretted them, but the truth was he wasn't entirely sure of himself where Robin was concerned. When Robin had declared his devotion so completely in front of the Duke of Essex…
You will have to go through me to get to my brother, Your Grace.
He had been beyond surprised. Robin had been concerned for his welfare almost since the moment Will had told him of their relationship in Sherwood. It had seemed genuine, his telling Will he couldn't cut their men down from the scaffolding where they were to hang because it was 'too dangerous,' but Will was accustomed to being lied to, to being disbelieved, to being on his own. He had hoped, oh how he had hoped, but he hadn't been entirely convinced that there wasn't some ulterior motive. He had held back. He had not spoken to Robin of anything important or personal, and had not expected Robin to confide in him. When The Duke had misunderstood Robin's words, expecting that he was using the term brother loosely, he had expected Robin to think better of his admission and deny the kinship.
He is the son of my father and the only blood relation I have left in the world. I value his life more than my own, and I will not let you have it.
His words had made Will tremble. His knees had almost given out, and he had clutched at Robin half to keep himself upright and half as a feeble attempt to stop him, to make him see that he was ruining his reputation and perhaps his life in front of a man who would be sure he would be unable to deny what he'd said.
"Will," Robin's soft voice broke his reverie and Will turned to face the older man. "I know you have had reason to distrust people…even me…in the past. I wish I had known about you…though I don't know what I would have done if I'd have learned that your mother was pregnant when I was 12. I allowed my anger and my grief over my mother's death to give me license to accuse my father of betrayal, but it was I who betrayed him. I didn't understand his grief, his need for a woman in his life. I lashed out at him and it nearly destroyed him. He never would have left your mother if he had known of your existence. I am sure of that. My…Our father was an honorable man, Will Scarlett, and he would be both proud of the man you have become and saddened that he did not have the chance to make your life easier."
Will sensed the regret in his voice, and was about to say something, anything…when Robin swallowed twice and spoke again, the regret gone and replaced by certainty. "I will make your life easier. I will be sure that any opportunity that can be afforded you because of the name of Locksley will be yours…"
Will smiled, "As soon as King Richard pardons us."
Robin laughed. "Yes, as soon as King Richard pardons us."
A decision made, Will leaned closer to Robin, for the first time initiating a hug on his own. When he spoke it was a whisper. "I will choose to believe in you, Robin of Locksley."
In his heart, Will only hoped he would be able to put aside his cynicism and distrust. He still felt as though he were waiting for some hidden secret, some lie to be uncovered, or some truth to come to light. He swallowed those bitter expectations and hoped as he'd never hoped before that he was wrong.
Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves
The Duke of Essex rode with his small entourage but he saw little of the countryside. He was angered over what had happened at Lady Marian's estate, and he seethed as it played through his mind again and again. He had not remembered the boy until long after they'd ridden away from the estate, but something about him had triggered a vague recollection, and he'd worried at it and stewed over it until he remembered. Will Scarlett.
The son of the tramp he'd used to his own advantage all those years ago…the one who had dared to come to him demanding money to pay extra for her favors just because her whelp of a son was sick!
He had not remembered the fire, the woman or the boy until now. It had been so inconsequential a series of events for him.
That the boy had lived at all amazed him. That he had claimed to be the son of Lord Locksley was too bizarre to be believed. Less so that Robin of Locksley believed him and embraced him as a brother. He was sure it was a scam. The boy thief was trying to get something from Locksley no doubt, preying on the losses and pretending to be a long lost brother. Locksley would be robbed or killed at the very least.
That didn't worry him. If the fool believed this sort of lie, his life was forfeit. What did bother him was that this boy could tell tales. He could spread the story of his mother's death and there were always those who would believe. He would not have his name sullied like that. True or not, the story would not become common knowledge. He would not permit it.
As he rode, he began to formulate a plan to shut the boy up permanently.
To Be Continued
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