Chapter Three
I wiped away my tears that I had been holding in for an hour now. My mother was buying a few spare eggs from our neighbors, Elouise and Richard, and I sat there alone, pulling feathers off a chicken and crying. He remembers me, he has to. He thought I was pretty…he has to remember. He would let me join him, if I had met him instead of those two men…
The tears came fast down my cheeks and I quickly wiped them away, feeling a feather stick to my cheek. “Who wants to join them anyways?” I retorted, choking slightly on my tears. “They’re just a bunch of thieves.”
A loud knock at the door made me jump. My heart raced…was it Robin? Of course not you idiot, he isn’t welcome in Nottingham, and what would he want with you? I assured myself. But somehow, I couldn’t help but feel my heart pound and wipe the feather off my face.
I opened the door slowly, wishing I could see exactly who it was before I heard his voice. “Hello Ivy, is your mother at home?” The sheriff sneered.
I shook my head in reply. “No, she’s not. She went to go buy a few eggs.”
“With the king’s tax money no doubt?” We stood in silence for a moment. “May I come in?”
What was I going to do? Force him out and say no? I nodded slowly, letting him into my home. I sat back down at the table and continued plucking the chicken’s feathers.
“You know Ivy, this is a very pretty house, unlike some of the huts I’ve been to. I’m glad you and your mother are off well.”
We’d be better if you didn’t come around every week collecting our money for our bloody king. I thought, nearly ripping the feathers out of the dead chicken’s soft skin. I could sense the sheriff lingering near me, the smell of mead on his breath. I felt his finger touch my cheek slightly. At that moment I wanted to slap him across the face, to show him how I really felt. But I didn’t, I didn’t even flinch. All I whispered was: “Please sir, I’ll go and fetch my mother.”
“I’m sure she’ll be around soon,” he whispered in my ear, sending tingles up my spine. Now, I did flinch. I stood up quickly, nearly knocking over the small wooden chair I sat in.
“She’s just down the road. It will only take a minute,” I said, and then, I fled from the house. An aching pain screamed in my foot as I felt it twist, and I fell to the ground, my nose smelling the putrid smell of dirt.
The tears ran more rapidly now. The sheriff had touched me, oh how I had wanted to just kill him. To just steal from him to… I sat up slowly. Steal from him. If I did that much, I would be an outlaw. I could join Robin Hood. No woman would be outlawed or hung… Would they? No, of course not. I would wait. I would think of some way to steal from the sheriff, get a price on my head, and join Robin Hood. It was so simple, so easy. A smile broke through my tears. I would have what I wanted.
That night, after the taxes were paid and the chicken was burned, I laid in bed, thinking of a plan. What would they name me? How much could I get on my head? How long should I wait for the robbery to take place? How would I steal from the sheriff?
But furthermore, would Robin recognize me. Would he know what I had done? Would they believe that I was really an outlaw? Would I be able to join them, and have the life I wanted?
* * * *
“I’m going out,” I said.
“Not into the woods, right?” my mother asked. I could tell she was narrowing her eyes. I shook my head in reply and assured her I’d be back by supper. Little did she know, that I wouldn’t be back.
My heart raced as I grabbed a knife from the drawer, hiding it beneath my dress. I held my small pack near my side, it bulging from the boyish clothes I had “borrowed” from one of the village boys.
I walked out the door and into the stables. “Is anyone here?” I asked. No one answered, I sat in the hay for a moment before stripping off my gown and underclothes. I took the clothes from my pack, slipping on the trousers. I padded down my already small breasts with a cloth band and slipped on the badly sewn tunic. Then, came the tricky part. I couldn’t see, so I would most likely get hurt, but it was the only way. I took the knife in my trembling fingers and held my fair blond hair between my fingers, and sawed it off quickly and jaggedly. The knife tumbled from my hand, nicking my palm slightly. I bit my lip, holding a cry of pain back. I felt the warm blood seep down my hand and quickly covered it with the fabric of my tunic until I felt that the blood had ceased most of the way. I could feel the hair falling down my back as I continued cutting and wiped it away. I touched it all around, feeling the short edgeness. Cool air wrapped itself around my neck like a sleeping kitten.
“Now where is that hat?” I whispered to myself. I searched around through my bag until I pulled it out, spilling a few coins and bread out of my pack. I pulled the hat over my head, hoping I looked enough like a boy to pass. I stood up slowly, and just in time.
“Taxes,” I heard the horrible voice asking a woman. I heard the jingling of money as he put it in his small side bag on the horse. “The king will bless you one day,” he assured her, but we all could see right through his lies, even me.
I heard his horse stop, right outside of my house. He knocked on the door, it opened, it closed. I left the stable quietly, tracing my hand along the horse that was tied up outside of my home.
“That’s the sheriff’s horse boy,” a man told me. “You better leave it alone or else you’ll be hung.”
“Just what I’m after,” I murmered as I heard the man walking away without a second warning. I felt my way to the saddle and pulled myself up, opening the side bag slightly. I reached in, feeling the coins inside. I sighed, looking back towards the stable. “Goodbye Nightshade,” I looked to the house. “Goodbye mother.” I kicked the horse, making him start trotting, what a magnificent animal. I could feel the muscles moving beneath me and the wholesome sound of his hooves hitting the ground. I heard gasps from the crowd and also…the voice of the sheriff, wishing my mother a goodbye.
“Hey! Stop there!” The sheriff yelled, and I quickly kicked the horse again, speeding off into the forest. “Gimme that horse!” he shouted at someone, and I knew no one would argue with the sheriff. “Damn,” I said as I entered the trees. I wove off the path, the horse leading me where I should go. But the sheriff wasn’t that easy to leave behind, the hoof beats of the horse he was riding joining with my own. “Come on, take me somewhere where I can get away from him,” I whispered to the horse.
The rushing sound of water floated through the trees, and I could feel bushes and low branches whipping against my feet. “Oh Lord, I didn’t think it would be this hard,” I whispered. “Goodbye,” I said one last time, before rolling off the horse and tumbling across the forest floor and gripping the saddlebag with all my might, the fabric ripping slightly. I crawled through the fallen leaves and felt my way to a bush, the branches making a cage around my figure.
I felt my breathing increase as I heard hoof beats come near, and then pass, chasing after the horse I had jumped off of. I shook, praying with all my might that I would be able to escape.
For a moment, I sat there, listening to empty silence. I felt a cry force its way out of my throat as something, a hand, gripped firmly on my tunic. Another hand covered my mouth rapidly. “Shh,” a voice told me. “Come with me, quickly.”
I didn’t protest, the man helped me up. “Climb on,” he said, jumping up onto an animal and holding out his hand. I gripped it tightly and swung my leg over the animal, I could tell from its shape now that it was a horse. “Hold on,” he said again. I wrapped my arms around his waist and felt air rush past me.
We rode in silence for a moment, the sound of rushing water growing near. “What were you doing that made the sheriff so mad? Why was he chasing after you?”
I let out a sigh. “I stole his horse and…this,” I said, holding the ripped saddlebag. “We needed the money and,” I paused. “We needed the horse for traveling. My father is hurt and we need a way to get to him.”
“So you stole the sheriff’s horse?” the man asked. “I have to hand it to you kid, you’re one couragous boy. What’s your name?”
“Ailwin,” the name came out easily, just as the lie had. I had spent the past week trying to figure out what name I would need. Ailwin seemed nice enough for an outlaw.
“Well, I suppose you’re an outlaw then, aren’t you?” he asked. His voice now sounding more familiar.
I nodded. “I guess so.”
“How old are you?”
“Almost fifteen,” I lied, saying I was younger than I really was.
“Explains your voice,” he chuckled. I nearly cursed, my stupid high voice. If only I had been able to have fixed that. “So, where do you come from? Nottingham?”
I nodded.
“I met a girl last week, a blind girl, Ivy I think her name was. She’s from Nottingham, do you know her?”
I smiled, he had remembered me. He even remembered my name. I nodded, “Yes. We’re good friends.”
“Very pretty,” he said and I almost let out a sigh of pleasure. “Don’t you think Ailwin?”
“I wouldn’t know,” I whispered. He tugged on the reigns, and I could feel him turning around to look at me. “Are you blind too?”
I nodded. Might as well let him know. “But I’m newly blind,” I lied. “Ivy’s been blind since she was born.”
“Hmm,” he said, turning back around. “What about your mother? Won’t she get hurt because of what you did?”
I let out a small gasp of breath but shook my head. “She left a while ago to see my father, she told me to find a horse and come as soon as possible, and just…left.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. We rode in silence again, but so much I wanted to know who he was.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“Will Scarlett,” he replied. I felt my eyes buldge, Will Scarlett, the Will who Robin had asked to escort me home?
“Nice to meet you,” I said. “Where are we going?”
“To the camp, to see if Robin wants another spunky outlaw in our camp.”
Gender:
Points: 8414
Reviews: 151