Lady Outlaw

Chapter 6

Malton, East Riding of Yorkshire

"Robin, you need to keep still." Djaq's tone was one of frustration as she struggled to scrutinise the wounds on Robin's back and apply the fast depleting salve. Robin sighed and froze. He knew that he was being a terrible patient, and he knew that Djaq was losing her patience with him, but he was keen to get back on the road and arrive at Filey before Vaisey and Bridlington. If only his damn stitches didn't need checking so often. Silently, he cursed the jailer at Nottingham Castle for inflicting the injuries on him, and he cursed himself for getting caught in the first place.
"How is it looking?" he asked Djaq, wishing he could magic away the wounds and set off again. But no amount of wishing would get rid of the tight feeling across his back, and the intermittent pain that struck him every now and again, reminding him that he was damaged, and that he needed to slow down. He was far too impatient to be held back by such a thing, but, as Djaq had told him on numerous occasions, he wouldn't heal properly if he didn't take care of himself.
Grudgingly, he supposed she was right, but he was used to being in the middle of the action alongside his men. He felt like he was missing out.
"Some of the wounds are weeping." Djaq's voice was preoccupied as she examined his stitches, her fingers tips cool against his back. "I have cleaned them but we are running out of the salve. I will have to keep an eye on them."
Robin slumped forward over his raised knees in exasperation and expelled his breath, sharply.
"Robin, you must look after yourself," Djaq scolded, sensing his impatience. "You shouldn't even be riding at the moment. I can only do what I can do right now."
She stood up, pulling his tunic back down, gently. He looked over his shoulder and gave a tentative smile.
"Thanks, Djaq. I do appreciate it."
"I know, I know." She rolled her eyes. "But you are missing out on the action. Heaven forbid that your men may cope without you for a day."
Robin let out a surprised laugh. He was often amazed by Djaq's perceptive nature - she knew the members of the gang better than they knew themselves, and it was a trait that impressed him. Thinking of his men, it wasn't something that astonished him. They weren't given to much self-reflection; not that they regularly shared with the group, anyway. Robin could understand why Djaq and Will gravitated together, as he was the most calmly sensitive member of the gang, traits he shared with Djaq.
"Master, I'm afraid it's squirrel again," Much said, loudly, entering their makeshift camp brandishing two grey squirrels by their tails. "There's nothing else about. It's as if all of the animals are hiding from us."
"They probably heard you coming, Much," Robin replied, exchanging an amused glance with Djaq. Much had been in an odd mood since they left Locksley the previous day; odder than usual, as Allan had observed. He had something on his mind, but he wasn't ready to share it, which was unusual in itself. Much wasn't one for repressing anything, most of all his emotions. There was something on his mind, and, for the first time in known history, he was keeping it to himself. Which was all good and well, but his preoccupation was manifesting itself in other ways. Such as his inability to stay quiet while hunting.
"Be that as it may, but if there are any complaints, you can go without," Much replied, tartly. He slung the squirrels onto the ground beside the fire and then hesitated, turning towards Robin but unable to look him in the eye, aware that he had gone too far.
Robin raised his eyebrows and waited. "Much?"
There was a pause and then Much caught his eye, at last. "I'm sorry, Robin. I'm just a little tired of having to do all of the hunting, and all of the cooking. I mean, just for once, I'd quite like to have a meal cooked for me."
Robin laughed, quietly. "Much, you know I appreciate everything you do."
"Well, actually, no, I don't," Much said, indignantly. "You never say anything. None of you do. No thanks or anything! But I'm just expected to do it all, even when I don't want to."
He seemed to deflate before Robin's very eyes as his latest grievances were expelled, and he nodded to himself in satisfaction before picking up a squirrel. Djaq crossed over to sit beside him and picked up the other one.
"Much," Robin said, patiently. "What is this really about?"
Much emitted a loud sigh and threw the squirrel down again. He looked Robin in the eye. "I've met someone."
Robin let out a huge belly laugh before realising Much wasn't joking. "What?"
"Who is she, Much?" Djaq said with interest.
"Her name is Eve," Much replied, pompously, picking up the squirrel again. "She works at Locksley Manor, and I intend to marry her one day."
"Eve? Wait, isn't that the Sheriff's spy from Bonchurch?" Robin asked in growing realisation.
"Well, yes. Yes, she was a spy, but she doesn't do that anymore," Much explained, patiently.
Robin stood up, holding himself gingerly, and began to pace the small campsite. "So, Gisborne puts Sir Edward in charge of Locksley, and suddenly, the Sheriff's top spy makes a reappearance, masquerading as a servant. Yet again."
"It's not like that, Master," Much argued. "She's just a maid now. And she helped us last time, anyway."
Robin turned and looked at him for a moment, pensively.
"She might have changed, Robin." Djaq shrugged, smiling at Much in solidarity.
Robin nodded once. "Maybe." He walked over to Much and sat down beside him, reaching over to place a hand on his shoulder. "I certainly hope so, my friend. But make no decisions until I have spoken to Edward. I don't want you to be disappointed."
Much grinned, widely, happy to bask in Robin's attention. He knew that Eve was genuine, but it was always nice to feel that Robin cared.

York, East Riding of Yorkshire, earlier that day

Sir Walter was a flamboyant man with a penchant for the dramatic. As the only son and heir of Sir Charles of Doncaster, vulgar bully and womaniser, Walter had become the direct opposite of his loathsome father, and cultivated the image of an approachable and benevolent lord. His people loved him, and he, in turn, loved his people. He ruled his town with an amicable hand, but his kind-heartedness was underpinned by a steely backbone and a quietly stubborn nature. Bestowed with a rakish charm that he had certainly not inherited from his father, Walter used it to his advantage, and gained the admiration and trust of those around him.
On the way to York, he had both Marian and Eve in gales of laughter. Rather than attempt to inveigle information from Marian straight away, he regaled them instead with tales from the courts in York and Scarborough. He had such a way with words that Marian could almost imagine that she had witnessed the events herself, the picture was so startling in her mind.
"You are funny, Sir Walter," she told him after another hilarious tale about the Sheriff of Yorkshire. She hadn't laughed so much in a long time, and she couldn't rid herself of the smile from her face.
"Why, thank you, my dear. I only use my best stories on the prettiest of women." His green eyes twinkled at her, and Marian blushed and lowered her gaze.
"Ah, but I'm assuming a beauty like you has already been snatched up. Hmm?" He waited until he caught her eye again, and raised a questioning eyebrow.
"Yes, my lord. I have been snatched up," she replied, honestly, her heart swelling at the thought of Robin, her beloved.
"Of course." Sir Walter shrugged, easily. "But it was to be expected. You are betrothed?"
"Well," Marian said, feeling a little crestfallen. "I was, and then he went to the Crusades, and I wasn't. When he came back, I was betrothed to someone else. Only I couldn't go through with it because I still love Robin, and he loves me. So now, we are together, but... there is no betrothal."
"Oh, my dear!" Sir Walter was affronted on her behalf. "Why has he not asked you again?"
"I don't actually know," Marian replied, honestly. "It might be because he is an outlaw."
She stopped short in horror, realising she had over-shared, but Sir Walter looked delighted.
"Your beloved is Robin of Locksley? Oh, how exciting!"
"Well, yes. I suppose it is," Marian said, faintly, but Sir Walter was off, waxing lyrical with stars in his eyes, waving his hands in the air as if he were painting a picture.
"How romantic! The man in green, forced to live in the forest by the evil overlord, yet deeply in love with the fair Lady Marian. He desperately wants to go down on one knee again, but he fears for her reputation and her respectability. He doesn't want to shackle her to an outlaw lifestyle, yet he cannot bear to let her go. Because they belong together." Sir Walter paused and looked at Marian, sideways. "Sound familiar?"
Marian dimpled. "It sounds very familiar," she said, wistfully.
Sir Walter dropped his hands into his lap. "Then, there is your answer. You must ask him."
"Wait.. what?" Marian stared at him in disbelief. "I cannot ask him! It would be most inappropriate. Or... can I?"
She glanced at Eve, whose eyes were shining as she listened. Sir Walter nodded, emphatically.
"You must, my dear," he said, decisively.
There was the sudden sound of fast hoofbeats and somebody rapped sharply on the carriage door. The carriage came to a rumbling halt and Sir Walter shifted to the door as it was opened. His attendant poked his head in and whispered to him, urgently.
Nodding, Walter cleared his throat and moved back into the carriage. "It would appear that we have company, my ladies. An old, ahem, friend of mine. I won't be long. Please, wait here."
He left the carriage, leaving the door slightly ajar. Marian and Eve exchanged glances, and Eve, who was closest to the door, snuck over to peer out of the gap. She jerked back into the carriage, her eyes wild.
"It's the Sheriff, my lady!"
"The Sheriff?" Marian looked momentarily confused, until realisation began to dawn. "Vaisey?"
Eve nodded, biting her lip, her face suddenly pale.
Marian reached over and pulled the door shut with a snap. "God's bones! What does he want?"
"He is talking to Sir Walter with Sir Guy and another man with yellow hair.."
"Bridlington," Marian said, darkly. "We must wait here and hope that they don't spot us."
Eve had visibly begun to shake, and Marian placed a hand on her arm, like she would to calm Fable. "It's alright, Eve. Relax."
"But it's the Sheriff," Eve whispered. "He hates me."
"Not as much as he hates me," Marian replied, and smiled at her.
When Walter returned to the carriage, he had an animated look about him, and seemed fit to burst.
"Ride on!" he ordered, rapping the front of the carriage, then he settled down again beside Marian. "Well," he said in a hushed tone. "I have some exciting news that I must share with someone. Can I trust you girls to keep a secret?"