Lady Outlaw

Chapter 2

Barnsdale Forest, West Riding of Yorkshire

Roana of Locksley woke to the dawn chorus, loud against the backdrop of the still slumbering forest. It was early, and the sun had not yet risen fully. The greenwood lay in darkness. She didn't move, not wanting to disturb her bed companion, hoping that she would soon drift back to sleep. She was warm and comfortable, lying beneath fleeces, and wrapped in the arms of Allan A Dale. Such a perfect way to wake.
Life had changed immensely for Roana since she had returned to Nottingham in early May after eleven years away, accompanied by her betrothed, Sir William of Bridlington. As Lady Roana of Filey, she had been coerced into accepting his proposal under threat of repercussions from his father, the Sheriff of Yorkshire, an influential yet unscrupulous man who was keen to see a union between the two families, primarily so he could get his hands on Filey land. Sir William, however, was a petulant young man with a drink problem and wandering hands, and it hadn't taken Roana long to change her mind about the betrothal.
Reconnecting with her elder brother, Robin, only to discover that he had been outlawed, reinventing himself as the great Robin Hood, Roana was shocked to witness the travesties inflicted on the inhabitants by the evil Sheriff of Nottingham, William's cousin. It had certainly been an eye-opener, and she had soon realised that she could no longer keep up the pretence of being happy with William. And, by that time, she was already falling for Allan.
Allan A Dale. Roana smiled into the darkness at the thought of him and tightened her arm across his chest. She had never expected to meet someone like Allan and fall in love so quickly. He was brash, sarcastic, a cheeky chancer, and a thief. Yet his beautifully expressive blue eyes, attractive grin, and tousled chestnut hair had caught her eye, and his emotional honesty, protectiveness, and humourous nature had impressed her. But it was his well-hidden vulnerability and hunger for love that had melted her heart. That he wanted her as much as she wanted him sealed the deal between them.
Under the fleece covers, she brushed the base of her left ring finger with her thumb, thrilling at the feel of the makeshift ring that Allan had placed there. Fashioned from wiry grass twisted together to form a hoop, it wasn't the flashiest of offerings by a broad sweep, but the sentiment and the meaning attached to it were everything. What they had wasn't a fly-by-night romance, by any means. Roana only hoped that her aunt and uncle, her guardians, would accept him as her betrothed, and then they could move their relationship to the next stage.
She would soon find out. Before long, they would be on the road again, heading for her home town of Filey. The plan was to intercept William before he could burn down Filey Manor as revenge for her rejection of him. But, afterwards, she would introduce Robert and Eleanor to Allan.
She fizzed with both nerves and excited anticipation at the thought of it. Her uncle and aunt had always been aware that she wanted to marry for love, which was the main reason she had left it so late. Suitors had come forward but had quickly been declined, as Roana failed to experience any kind of connection with them. The betrothal to William had been unavoidable, after a fire had been set on Filey land, and a conversation with the Sheriff of Yorkshire had alluded to his involvement, and the threat of further damage to Filey land in the future. Roana had been given little choice but to accept William's offer of marriage. But her feelings for Allan far eclipsed anything she had felt for a man previously, and how could she ignore that? This was everything she had hoped for. The only problem that Roana could see was that he wasn't of noble lineage. It didn't bother her, but Robert in particular might have reservations.
Roana hoped that wasn't the case. She snuggled closer to Allan and sighed, quietly. She was wide awake and probably wouldn't be able to sleep again now, but it was too early to rise. Concentrating on relaxing, she noticed that Allan's breathing had changed. He was awake. Impishly, she raised her right leg and hooked it over his left leg, scooting closer. There was a pause and then he reached up and flicked the edge of the fleece blanket so it covered their heads. Then he moved onto his side so he was facing her in their little cocoon.
"Morning, beautiful." His voice was low and husky with sleep and Roana moved closer and reached for him, sliding her hands underneath his tunic. His skin was warm and she felt the scars on his rib cage, smoothing her fingers over them.
"Good morning," she whispered.
Still drowsy, he pulled her closer and sneaked his hands under the back of her top, gliding the palms of his hands up her back and down again. It was more intimate than sexual, yet Roana shivered a little under his touch, new to such close contact. She was curious about what came next, but there never seemed to be an ideal time to explore. Allan was the perfect gentleman, although things had a tendency to get heated between them. She felt that he wanted to take it further as much as she did, yet they were both extremely aware of her inexperience. Sometimes, to Roana, it felt like the white elephant in the room, and she wished she could click her fingers and dispense of her virginity easily, if only so he didn't treat her so carefully. She knew she should appreciate it, though. Allan had been with his share of women in the past, but the importance of his feelings for her were reflected in his, at times, over-exaggerated show of respect; he wanted to set her aside from the casual nature of his past dalliances. It was his way of showing her that she meant more to him than anything before.
Roana was happy to let him set the pace. But she did like to test the boundaries every now and again. In the darkness of their cocoon, she used a hand to find Allan's face, and then planted her lips on his, initiating a long and lazy kiss. When they finally broke apart, the temperature was stifling underneath the fleeces and they were both breathless with deliciously pent-up desire. Roana pushed back the fleece to get some air. Daylight was beginning to filter through the trees above and illuminate the camp, which slept on for the time being. The other members of the gang were still mounds, lying around the now-dead campfire.
She turned back to Allan and he gave her a slow smile, reaching out to brush a lock of hair from her face. "I cannot wait to meet your uncle," he whispered, wryly.
Roana muffled a laugh, catching his meaning. "Soon," she promised, taking his hand and threading her fingers through his.
He raised her hand and examined the grass ring, then pressed a kiss to the knuckle above it. "The sooner the better."
He flashed his eyes at her before kicking the fleeces aside and climbing to his feet. As he disappeared into the trees to relieve himself, there was movement across the makeshift campsite and Robin sat up, groaning softly to himself.
The famed Robin Hood, former nobleman and bodyguard to King Richard while in the Holy Land, outlawed after he returned from the Crusades and stood up to the evil Sheriff of Nottingham. Robin of Locksley, Roana's elder brother, the boy who had taught her how to fire a bow, and the man she and the rest of their small band of outlaws now looked up to as their leader. Brave Robin, who had been caught by the Sheriff and tortured mere days ago, only to escape and immediately leap on a horse to ride to Filey in an effort to save his family's land.
Roana couldn't help but secretly regard Robin with awe. Yes, he was older sibling Robin, who insisted that he was always right, occasionally snapped at his friends, and couldn't cook to save his life. But he was also Hood, master of the bow, fighter of injustice, the man with a plan, and someone who everybody trusted in times of trouble. He was the strongest, most self-assured person Roana knew, and she had yet to glimpse a significant chink in his armour. She had no doubt that there was weakness somewhere, but people had different ways of revealing their imperfections.
Physical weaknesses were more obvious, and Robin had clearly been struggling with the wounds on his back, inflicted on him by the over-zealous jailer at Nottingham Castle with a cat o' nine tails. As a result of the stitches, hastily applied by Locksley's healer woman, Deorwynne, he should have been resting and allowing the wounds to heal. But keeping Robin away from the action was proving difficult.
Standing up and brushing herself down, Roana crossed over to him.
"How's your back, Robin?"
His face a grimace of pain, Robin looked up and gave her a nod of greeting. "How's the face?"
Roana's raised a hand to her cheek, instinctively. While attempting to rescue Robin from the castle, she had encountered a drunk and violent William, and he had attacked her. Her face had been red and swollen on one side, but had now subsided a little, thanks to Deorwynne's treatment. However, it was beginning to bruise, her cheek purple in patches, and it ached slightly.
"I'll live," she replied. "Shall I check your stitches?"
He turned his back on her without speaking, revealing the back of his tunic, which was stained red in strips. Roana touched it gingerly; it was dry. Carefully, she pushed his tunic up to reveal the dressings that had been applied the night before by their medical expert, Djaq. The blood loss had clearly happened prior to her cleaning of the wounds, after which she had applied honey, which was known for its antibacterial properties.
Carefully peeling back a corner of the dressing, Roana examined the stitches beneath. She was no physician, but the wounds looked clean, although they had bled a little during the night.
She re-affixed the dressing. "They look alright, but let Djaq double-check before we leave."
The rest of the gang were beginning to stir as Allan rejoined them, and Much sat up, yawning loudly.
Former manservant to Robin, and his best friend, Much was outspoken, often indignant, and constantly over-protective towards Robin, but Roana adored him. His emotional honesty drew her in; a person always knew where he stood with Much, as with Allan. Easy to take offence, he was nevertheless a caring soul, and rarely held a grudge. He was never afraid to say his piece when it needed to be said, and would leap into battle to protect his friends without a second thought.
"Master," he said, scrambling to his feet at the sight of Roana administering to Robin. "Do you need anything?"
"Food, Much," Robin said. "We need food, and then we need to set off."
They would have to continue on their journey soon. William would be leaving Nottingham with the Sheriff later that day, and Robin and Roana hoped to make it to Filey before they did. Their progress had been cut short the previous day due to Robin's injuries, and Roana could tell that he was frustrated at his physical impairment. However, his wounds needed time to heal, and he had to take it easy.
Robin lowered his tunic and struggled to his feet. "Luckily, we are ahead of Bridlington and the Sheriff by a day, but that could soon change. We can't afford to linger here. As soon as we've eaten, we'll move on."
Much and Roana exchanged quick glances.
"You feel well enough to continue?" Much asked, pointedly.
"Of course, Much," Robin replied, firmly. "If Bridlington gets to Filey Manor before we do, he will burn it down. And I'm not gonna let that happen."