Episode 5
Yelskcol lliw elur. Ylimaf lliw liaverp.
It was the day of Annabelle's funeral. Three days Robin had sat alone, silent with grief. He had not shed one tear; he felt he was beyond that point of sadness. Three days he had not talked and only ate when Much shoved a plate under his nose but even then it was very little. He sat alone in the corner of the camp, averting his eyes from the place where Annabelle's body lay, concealed by a wall of curtains. The gang had planned Annabelle's funeral for the day when both the Sheriff and Guy of Gisborne would not be in Locksley, they would be in the castle where Vasey had planned a feast to celebrate the death of Annabelle Hood. Will had built a small crypt and a coffin for Annabelle to rest in. Robin did not take part in the conversation or the planning. It seemed to him nothing mattered anymore, not without Annabelle to brighten up the world.
"Robin we're going now, you're to bring the body." Will said to him but Robin barely heard. He was thinking of all the times he and Annabelle had shared over the last few months. He knew Annabelle wanted to stay in the forest, even only for a short while. And although they fought and constantly yelled that they hated each other, Robin never meant a word of it and he knew Annabelle didn't either. And suddenly, a flood of memories washed over Robin, making his eyes sting and his heart ache.
Robin was ten while Annabelle was only seven. They were sparring with a pair of wooden swords a man named Dan Scarlett had fashioned for them. Annabelle was laughing while Robin was concentrating hard.
"No, I'm older, I should be better at this!" Robin exclaimed angrily. Annabelle laughed again.
"You're better with a bow brother but I will always win in a sword fight."
"That's not fair!" But Annabelle merely laughed.
"As Vasey always says, life's not fair. If he took his own advice he wouldn't get so angry every time I'm let off."
"Stop," Robin panted. "A break," Annabelle dropped her sword as Robin collapsed on the ground. Annabelle sat down beside him. "You should stop provoking him Belle, you could get hurt."
"He would never hurt me and nor would Edward." Annabelle told him. "Yelskcol lliw elur. Ylimaf lliw liaverp. Remember that Robin."
"Do not worry Belle, I will never forget it."
Robin slowly stood up and walked toward the corner of the camp where Annabelle lay.
"This is such a beautiful land Robin," Marian sighed as she looked upon Locksley village.
"I know," Robin replied arrogantly. "And one day it will all be mine!" Annabelle snorted. She was fourteen and laughed with derision at everything her older brother said.
"And I will serve you, won't I master?" Much asked.
"Of course Much!" Robin exclaimed with a grin. Annabelle rolled her eyes. Robin, Much, Marian and Annabelle were all sitting atop a hill over looking Locksley. It was a fine summer's day and they could think of nothing better to do. They were too old to fight with wooden swords and after Robin and Annabelle's last fight their mother had forbidden them to use the real swords. As Robin thought of that fight, a hot blush crept up his neck. Annabelle had beaten him, as she always did but once, once Robin wished to beat her.
Robin pushed the curtains aside. There lay Annabelle, her face looked peaceful and her clothes had been neatly arranged by Djaq. Robin knelt by her side and brushed her hair from her face, a face that was pale and showed no emotion. Robin's heart broke at the sight of her. Usually there was something to see, some emotion to read and if there was not happiness or mockery written on her face you were most likely to find her face red with anger or laughter.
"Annabelle, what news of our mother?" Robin asked her as he approached the front door of the Locksley manor.
"She's dead, no thanks to you." Annabelle spat. Gathering her bags she knocked her shoulder into Robin's as she walked past him.
"Please Annabelle, I had business." Robin tried to explain. Annabelle dropped her bags in anger and spun around to face her brother.
"Nothing is more important than your own family Robin, nothing."
"It was for the King!"
"I don't care!" Annabelle picked up her fallen belongings and tied them to her saddled horse.
"Are you going somewhere?"
"Yes. I'm getting away from here, away from Locksley. You can have the manor, I do not care anymore."
"But Belle, I thought we were going to live together, just you and I!"
"Why would I want to be with you? You're despicable Robin, you only care for yourself! I thought maybe, maybe you might get over yourself enough to attend your own mother's funeral but no! No you are even to arrogant for that. You are nothing to me! Nothing!" She mounted her horse.
"Annabelle!" Robin called after her. He grabbed her ankle as she tried to spur the horse into a trot. She kicked out at him, hitting him squarely in the face.
"Do not try to find me, at least show me that respect."
"Belle!" Robin yelled but she was already riding off into the forest.
Slowly and very carefully Robin lifted Annabelle into his arms. She felt light but she always did.
Robin was twelve as he carried Annabelle through the back door of the manor.
"Dear Robin what has happened?" Thornton exclaimed as he saw Annabelle's young and unconscious figure in his arms. Robin sighed.
"Annabelle was mocking the other girls of Locksley. They were dancing in their dresses. Annabelle was copying them and she tripped over her own feet and fell on the fence post." Thornton shook his head. "But she'll be okay though, won't she?"
"Your sister has a hard head Master Robin; you should be more worried about that fence post." Robin laughed lightly. "Take her to her room and I will call the physician." He bowed to Robin as the young boy left the room, still carrying Annabelle in his arms.
Robin left the camp and walked through Sherwood with his sister resting in his arms. It was not a long journey to her final resting place but Robin felt like it took centuries.
"Robin what has happened?" Asked their worried mother as Robin walked through the front door with Annabelle's unconscious teenage form in his arms.
"She's gotten into another fight," Robin sighed.
"Another one? Oh Robin I thought I told you to help her,"
"I didn't need to, she won. Two of the town bullies didn't know who she was and ran off with her bag. She broke one of their noses and threw the other into the pond." Robin said as he walked upstairs to Annabelle's bedroom, his mother trailing behind.
"Then why isn't Annabelle awake?"
"She turned around and walked into the side of a house. The wooden window frame knocked her cold."
"Oh Robin, whatever are we to do with her." Their mother sighed. Robin placed Annabelle on her bedcovers and stroked her hair from her eyes.
Robin arrived at the disheartened gathering. Many of the people of Locksley and other villagers were standing atop the hill that overlooked Locksley and its manor. The gang, Marian and Edward were closest to the coffin. Everyone parted as Robin placed Annabelle's lifeless figure in the open coffin. He stepped back next to Marian to form the circle.
"Robin?" Annabelle whispered as she crept into his room. "Robin?"
"Belle?" Came Robin's answering voice through the darkness.
"Yes,"
"What has happened?"
"I had a nightmare," Annabelle confessed as she sat her small figure on the edge of Robin's bed. Annabelle was only six, three years younger than Robin yet still she went to him for comfort.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"No, just, can I sleep here tonight?"
"Sure," Robin said and he moved aside to let his sister lay beside him. He threw the blanket over her.
"Goodnight Robin,"
"Goodnight Belle,"
Thornton stepped forward as he looked upon Annabelle. He began to speak.
"She was always a troublesome child but there was never a dull moment around her. She always seemed to brighten Locksley manor up with her mischievous smile and sweet voice although most of the time she was doing something she wasn't supposed to. I will never forget Annabelle of Locksley, no matter what she did and no matter what wrongs she committed, I will never forget her." Thornton placed a bouquet of flowers in the coffin and stepped back into the line.
"Oh Annabelle, whatever shall we do with you?" Robin whispered to himself as he sat by Annabelle's bedside. She had just gotten into her third fight for that week but this time she had not won. She was lying unconscious once more on her bed, looking innocent and peaceful, something she did not achieve when she was awake. The teenage Robin looked upon his sister with sad yet caring eyes. She was a free spirit and nothing he, or their parents told her, would ever change what she was planning to do. Annabelle did not have a conscious or morals or even proper judgement, she just did what she wanted to do and nothing anyone said could stop her. Robin knew this trait would become stronger as Annabelle became older. This thought scared Robin immensely.
A farmer from the town of Nettlestone stepped forward.
"She was a rotten child, a trait that did not go away in her years of adulthood or I have heard at least. I always caught her stealing my cabbages. Of course I got them back after a time but that still did not change the fact that she thought it fun to steal someone's livelihood. But she was a good kid, under all the rest of that stuff. I may not miss her as much as someone should but still, she will never be forgotten." A few people laughed as the farmer stepped back next to his wife.
"She stole an axe of mine you know!" Called one man from the crowd.
"And a dress of mine!" Yelled a woman.
"Wicked child she was!"
"Knowing Annabelle Locksley she probably was a witch!"
"She's been a witch since birth!" The crowd called out.
"But I will never forget her smile,"
"Or the way she skipped when she was happy."
"She was a master of a sword, even for a woman,"
"And she always gave back what she stole, after time."
"The world seems a little less bright without her around." Said the same people who had called out before. There was a general murmur of agreement. Many people stepped forward and placed flowers on top of her.
"She was a wonderful child," Began Marian, stepping away from the line. "Brave and true to whatever it was she believed in and those qualities only grew stronger as she aged. Annabelle always knew how to have fun, even if the rest of us did not agree with her idea of it. She was a good child and an even better woman." Marian looked down into Annabelle's face. "I will never forget you Annabelle; you were my best friend, a bond which I should have cherished more." Marian placed a single white rose on her chest and stepped back, tears glistening in her eyes. Everything was silent. A light breeze swept over the hill, blowing the hair of the back of everyone's neck. Robin stepped forward.
"We yelled and we screamed and we made sure that our different opinions were heard but there was never a day that I did not love my sister. Although some remember her as the rotten child who stole cabbages and performed fake witch craft, I will always remember her as a brave, kind and loyal sister. Although she did not show it, inside she was pure and innocent and always valued others over herself. Her quick talking tongue always got her into more trouble than good but she always managed to get herself out of her dilemmas, a talent she always seemed to have. She was the greatest con-woman and thief but I will never remember her as that. I will remember her as the Midnight Highwayman." A gasp went around the audience. "She stole from the rich and gave to the poor at great risk to her own life. She cared for the people." Robin picked up Annabelle's bag and took out her mask. He placed it in the coffin. "She was a great swordsman. She once said to me 'you're better with a bow brother but I will always win in a sword fight' and she was right. Never to this day have I won against her." Robin picked up her sword and dagger. He placed her jewel encrusted sword by her side and her dagger in her hand. "She fought for England but most importantly she fought for what was right. She battled those who stood against her and cherished those who stood beside her. She was a talented swordsman, an amazing woman and an even better sister. And although at times I said I hated her and never wanted to see her again, I never meant it because never have I asked for another sister, a better sister; because I knew I would not find one." Robin stepped closer to the coffin and placed her bag by her feet. "I love you Annabelle," Robin said to her, his voice shaking. "I love you with all my heart. I should have told you, everyday, just to make sure you knew. There are a thousand things I would do over if I had the chance, just so we could spend more time with each other. I will never be the same, not without you." Robin placed a small, battered book full of nursery rhymes and bedtime stories in her other hand. He looked down at Annabelle's pale face. He knew that this would be the last time he ever saw her. Suddenly, a flood of tears overwhelmed him. He began to cry over her body. Hot tears poured from his eyes but it only reflected a small amount of the pain he was feeling inside.
When Robin and Annabelle entered the dining room of Locksley Manor they found their mother sitting at the end with a battered, tear-stained letter in her hand.
"You called us mother?" Robin asked.
"Mother what's wrong?" Annabelle asked, hurrying to her mother's side. Their mother did not say a thing; she simply shoved the piece of parchment into Annabelle's hand. Slowly she began to read to herself, her facial expressions becoming more and more saddened as her eyes travelled down the page. She eventually looked up, tears welling in her eyes and her lip trembling. "It's father," She said. "He has died in the Holy Land." Her voice was soft and filled with sadness. Robin ran over to his sister and hugged her as she freely cried into his shoulder. This was the first time Robin had ever seen Annabelle cry and it was the last time too.
With sad tears still running down Robin's face he placed the lid of Annabelle's coffin on top and helped slide it into the tomb. Slowly the villagers departed in silence. Eventually it was only Robin and the gang left with Marian and Edward by his side.
"Go," Robin whispered. There was a slight pause.
"C'mon," John said and he led the gang and Edward down the slope and back into the forest. Marian patted Robin on the shoulder as a comforting gesture and followed her father and the outlaws back to her now permanent home in the forest. Robin stood on the hill, with Annabelle's crypt behind him and Locksley village spread out in front of him. He had stopped weeping but the pain had not ceased, the hole had not mended and he certainly did not feel better. He doubted he ever would feel the same. Knowing Annabelle was dead was worse than not knowing where she was and even if she was alive because knowing she was dead was knowing she would never return.
Robin stayed on top of that hill for the rest of the afternoon. The blood red sunset cast its rays over the land, bathing him in its dull light. Robin stood up.
"Goodbye Belle," He whispered. "I hope we meet again in heaven." And with that Robin left for the camp, back to his life which he knew he must resume.
Everyone was sitting around the fire when Robin arrived. Only the crackling of the flames could be heard. Robin sat down and joined in on their silent reminiscing of Annabelle.
Hours after Robin had sat down Marian stood up and sat by him. She hugged his arm and rested her head against his shoulder.
"Robin I'm sorry," She whispered.
"Don't be," They fell silent again.
"Robin, can I ask you something?" Robin nodded his head. Marian sat up and looked him in the eyes. "Just before Annabelle died, she said something to the Sheriff, something I didn't understand. It sounded like a different language."
"What did she say?" Robin asked, genuinely curious.
"She said," Marian paused with her brow furrowed, thinking. "She said Yelskcol lliw elur. Ylimaf lliw liaverp." The silence in the camp deepened as everyone listened to Marian and Robin's conversation. And then Robin did something very unexpected, he laughed. Waves of laughter echoed around the forest as Robin clutched at his side. His eyes lit up and his face became lined with amusement.
"Oh Annabelle," He said, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes.
"I know what she said," Much piped up after Robin's laughter had died away. "It's a spell."
"It's not a spell Much," Robin told him.
"Yes it is, she spoke the same gobble-de-gook in Locksley when we encountered the Sheriff. She's a witch!"
"It is not a spell and she is not a witch, though I bet Annabelle would like everyone to think she was."
"Then what did she say?" Much asked. Everyone turned their eyes back onto Robin who was looking at them all with a smile on his face.
"If you must know, it's a code, a secret language if anything." Everyone gave him a blank look. "Annabelle and I made it up when we were younger."
"Oh I remember that! It used to infuriate me because I could never figure out what you both were saying!" Marian exclaimed.
"And there was this one phrase, our motto actually, that we always used to say."
"Yelskcol lliw elur. Ylimaf lliw liaverp." Djaq whispered in amazement.
"But what does it mean?" Edward asked. Robin chuckled.
"It means 'Locksley will rule. Family will prevail'." Everyone looked at Robin with astonishment. "We were only kids, it was just something funny at first but Annabelle kept saying it and I just went along. It's stupid I know." He cast his eyes downward to avoid looking at all his staring friends. And then Allan laughed.
"And the Sheriff thinks that she's a witch and her last words were a spell?" Robin nodded, slowly finding the hilarity of it. "He probably thinks he's cursed now!" Allan exclaimed, laughing. Everyone joined in. Soon their laughter died away to be replaced by silence. But it was not an awkward or sad silence, it was comfortable. Little John stood up and grabbed eight tankards from a shelf in Much's kitchen. He filled them all with mead.
"The last of the mead Annabelle bought for us," He said as he handed out the wooden goblets.
"To Annabelle," Said Robin, raising his glass.
"To Annabelle!" They all said and drunk deeply. Robin lifted the cup to his lips but did not drink straight away. Instead he watched his own reflecting in the cup. He would never forget Annabelle, his sister through it all. She lived on through him and that was a bond Robin cherished to the end of his days. She had lived her life to the very end, doing what she believed in and scorning those who did wrong by her or another. She was a good swordsman, a great woman and an even better sister. And with that thought in his mind Robin lifted the mead to his lips and drank deeply.