Cecily somehow managed to sleep through the noises of the others in the forest waking, rising, eating, and packing up their sparse belongings. Robin had decided they needed to move their camp again, to elude the sheriff.
"You found us a new spot, then, Master?" Much asked, all trustful eagerness.
"I did."
"What direction from here?"
Robin hesitated, dreading Much's probable accusations.
"East," he finally admitted.
"East," Much repeated, with satisfaction. "Toward Knighton." It took the loyal servant a few moments, but his own words finally sank in. "Toward Knighton!" he repeated. "I knew it! Why don't we just camp out merrily, in the open, under Marian's window?"
"Or not bein' funny, but how 'bout in her room?" Allan quipped, walking past with a bundle.
"Watch it," Robin warned him, believing he was defending Marian's honor.
"How long are we going to let her sleep?" Will asked, indicating Cecily.
The entire gang, plus Maggie, focused their attention on the lady sleeping peacefully under the trees.
"I suppose she's slept enough," Robin decided. "Djaq, would you mind waking her?"
"I'll do it," Little John growled. Before Robin could object, the giant poured the contents of his flask on Cecily's head and bellowed, "Get up. Now!"
Allan, Much, and Maggie laughed aloud, while Will and Djaq could not hide their smiles. Robin alone was annoyed.
"John! That was unnecessary! Apologize at once!"
Cecily sat bolt upright, shivering, her hair dripping wet. "How dare you?" she demanded, glaring up at Little John.
Robin was frankly surprised to see her show a welcome display of spirit. She rose in his estimation.
But the others, except for Much, of course, were not fooled. They knew she longed to lord herself above them, but had only held her tongue to please Robin. She was not displaying spirit, but arrogance and pomposity.
"Sorry." Little John mumbled the word to appease his leader, but he had not meant it. Dousing her with cold water was far less than Her High and Mightiness deserved.
"I offer you my own apologies for my men's rude behavior," Robin told her gently, angrily staring at the smiling faces of his gang. Why did all of them, to a man, dislike the lovely lady? He could not understand it.
Taking his men aside, he folded his arms across his chest and surveyed their faces. "Remember, men, Lady Cecily is new to the forest. You cannot expect a well born lady, who grew up with every luxury and comfort, to immediately fall in with our rough way of living. I think she's being unusually gracious and accomodating."
None of the outlaws spoke, not even Allan. But they were all thinking the same thing, except for Much, who was worried about the hole in Robin's sleeve. They were thinking their leader was fooled by the lady's long golden hair, wide hazel eyes, straight nose, glowing cheek, and slender, willowy figure.
The lecture was interrupted by a shriek so loud, it would have drawn the sheriff to them, had he been within hearing.
Cecily had put her dainty feet into her boots.
The snake Allan had placed there resented being stepped on, and responded by biting the heel that trod on him.
Robin ran to the hysterical, shrieking woman.
"What happened?" he asked, holding her by her upper arms.
She couldn't speak, but only pointed to a harmless garter snake, slithering away.
"It's only a garter snake," Robin told her.
"It bit me!" She collapsed against his chest, a sobbing bundle of nerves.
"It's alright. It isn't venomous. Djaq will take care of you. Now, where did it bite you?"
"On my heel," she answered, furious at his cavilier attitude.
"That's one reason I insisted you wear boots."
Cecily pulled away. His attitude was far too cocky and not half hysterical enough for the terrible ordeal she had suffered. "It was in my boot," she sneered at him.
"Well. You've just learned a valuable lesson, I think. Next time, before you step into your boots, be sure to turn them upside down first. You never know what creature might decide to make its bed in your footwear."
Djaq, examining the bite, washed it and applied an ointment. "It is not serious," she assured them. "More like a scratch."
"A scratch?" Cecily was livid. "I stepped on a snake! It sank its teeth into me! I can't walk a step!"
"You'll have to, I'm afraid," Robin told her, put off by her attitude. "We're just about to move camp."
"You will have to carry me," Cecily insisted, pleased by the prospect.
Robin stared at her, recalling the many times, as his childhood playmate, Marian had mastered her injuries and bravely journeyed with him through the forest, never complaining. But Cecily was no Marian. Nobody was.
"John?" Robin said, knowing the big man was the best one to carry the lady across the far distance, over hills and through dense underbrush.
Little John growled. "Her, I do not like," he quietly told Allan. "Snakes, I like."