Robyn Hood: A Girl's Tale Read online

  I studied him through narrowed eyes as Much imitated an innocent lamb. Renewing friendships wasn’t very high on my priority list at the moment, but Much was taking a risk on this as well. “Friends,” I said with a deal sealing nod.

  “That’s what I thought,” Much said, his voice lined with satisfaction. “And don’t worry about that forester you shot. Everyone in the village says you’re a hero for saving Lady Marian. It’s strange, though. The Sheriff seems to be befuddled. He continuously asks for a man named Robin Hood,” he shrugged. “No matter. I’ll try to bring you something to eat later. Good night,” he said as he turned on his heels and walked off.

  “Good night,” I mindlessly repeated as I wondered exactly how stupid the people of Nottinghamshire really were. They were calling me a hero? Me. HAH!

  “That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard,” I said as I swiped my deer meat and headed off in a different direction.

  That evening I spent most of my sleeping time up in a tree. It was pleasant, except for the few times I rolled off my branch bed. I rose before dawn and blearily explored for the rest of the day. By late afternoon I made my way to the little meadow, hoping Marian might have dropped off some supplies. As I stumbled into it I nearly stomped out a hasty message that was scrawled in the soft dirt.

  It took me an embarrassingly long time to read. Marian might have taught me my letters, but I never had much time to further practice such a skill, so putting the words together was a rather laborious process.

  “Hood,” it read. “Much in trouble. Come to Huntingdon Castle, I’ll be in entrance. HURRY!”

  Chapter 2

  My First Merry Man

  Obviously it was Marian. From the looks of the ground the message was written with the morning dew.

  I peered up through the trees and saw that the sky was precariously close to sunset. “Better get moving,” I muttered, stalking towards my bow, tripping on a pile of lincoln green clothes in the process. I studied them before inspecting my ratty dress and sighing. Marian probably left them for me. I cast a look around my hideout, the meadow was stuffed with brown packages and parcels. I know I had requested supplies, but this was out of hand. Did she think I would open up a merchant’s stall in the middle of the forest?

  I grumpily shed my poor excuse of a dress and slipped into the clothes, which were clearly meant for a male—which made me even grumpier. Some things Marian does spur of the moment, but most of her actions are part of a carefully groomed plan. I had a feeling I wasn’t going to like this plan.

  I re-shouldered my long bow and quiver before flipping up the hood of my green cape. I fastened the silver buckle at my throat before jogging out of my hideout, heading for the edge of Sherwood Forest.

  It didn’t take me long to reach the forest boundaries. I hesitated at the tree line for a few moments, plagued by fear, but when I wasn’t jumped after my first few hesitant steps out of Sherwood I set out at a brisk walk. Two leagues from Marian’s castle I started trotting again, casting an anxious glance at the darkening sky.

  When I stopped to catch my breath at the gate of Huntingdon Castle, the sky was petal pink.

  The drawbridge to Huntingdon was empty but for the two soldiers standing guard. Huntingdon was a medium sized hold with tall towers and magnificent guards. I had only set foot in it twice, and I felt uneasy as I paused at the bridge, trying to look unsuspicious.

  I was about to start down the drawbridge, feeling sick to my stomach with fear, when Marian, disguised as a peasant, popped up in my path. “Hood!” she cried with an exaggerated peasant accent. “Ook! Me cousin Hood!” she said as she limped over to me and slung her arm around my shoulders. She continued to babble as she dragged me off, away from the castle. Once we were a safe distance away she ran, hauling me after her.

  “Marian what’s going on?” I said, trying not to stumble when she yanked me down a steep incline.

  “No time to explain,” Marian said, squeezing my wrist as we neared a clump of trees. Tied to one of the trees was Marian’s grey mare and a bay gelding. “Get on,” she ordered as she mounted her mare, looking out of place on the leather finery in her grubby dress.

  I eyed the bay, who returned the gesture. “Hurry up Robyn! In King Richard’s name, we don’t have much time! The gelding is the only horse that no one would miss today! Mount up!” she ordered as I climbed onto the gelding’s saddle. “Come on!” Marian said, before she took off at a full gallop.

  One of these days her mare was going to keel over dead because she was never properly exercised.

  I barely kept my balance as my gelding ignored my cues and sped after Marian’s mare.

  “Much has been charged with killing a deer from Sherwood Forest,” Marian yelled over the pounding of the horses’ hooves. “A group of soldiers are escorting him to Nottingham. When he gets there the Sheriff is going to execute him. We have to save him!”

  I grimly wondered how Much had been found out as I flopped on the gelding’s back. “Where were they keeping him for all of today?” I hollered back.

  “At his home. The foresters and his parents were arguing. The Sheriff himself had to go to the millers and order them to hand Much over by nightfall, or they would all be put to death. They relented after one of the Sheriff’s charismatic cronies talked to them, but they sent word to me that the soldiers are taking him, by foot, to Nottingham.”

  “Is the Sheriff with them?”

  “Heavens no, he rode back to Nottingham before the millers released Much.”

  “What route are they taking?”

  “The main road.”

  I glanced at my gelding—he was easily keeping the pace with Marian’s mare. “Can he go faster?”

  Marian’s face flashed with surprised before she grinned. She knew I hated horses, but I would deal with them as long as I could save Much. Noble, stupid Much. What had he gotten me into?

  “Yes! Good luck!” she yelled.

  I nodded as she reached over and slapped my bay on the rear. He shrilly whinnied and started galloping faster, lengthening his strides and overtaking Marian’s grey mare. Within five minutes I reached the main road. I slowed the bay down to a trot and he tossed his head, his sides gleaming with sweat. I urged him up a hill, and when we reached the crest I grinned. A large party of soldiers was plodding up the road, coming towards me. I twisted around in the saddle before directing the bay further up the trail, looking for the perfect spot.

  The good thing about the main road is that it cut through parts of Sherwood Forest. This would make it infinitely easier to spring on them and—hopefully—free Much.

  I hid my borrowed horse a fair distance off the road, leaving him tied to a tree. I circled back to the road where I climbed up a tree with badly shaking hands.

  When I reached a suitable branch I stopped and set up, preparing my longbow while rearranging my quiver on my back.

  From my perch I spotted Marian racing up the road, she passed me as I sounded a piercing whistle. She rounded back and stopped her mare beneath my tree. When she caught my gaze I wordlessly jerked my thumb in the direction I had stowed my horse. Marian nodded and disappeared in a flash of ratty clothes and horsey finery.

  I waited in my tree for another two minutes before I heard the clomping of feet and the boisterous laughter of the soldiers. I narrowed my eyes and silently notched my bow as the soldiers mounted the crest of the hill.

  I swallowed a lump that was lodged in my throat. I felt so nervous there was an underlying need to rid my stomach of lunch.

  After a few moments of marching the soldiers were close enough that I was able to see the stitching on their uniforms.

  I studied the group, it was half a dozen soldiers, all of them had swords, but only one had a bow. If I stayed a safe distance away from him I could easily hold up the group. Much’s hands were bound with rope, and he had a gag placed in his mouth. He was in the center of the circle.

  “Get moving lad!” a soldier said as he kicked Muc
h. “Or we’ll skewer you now!” he threatened, booting Much again.

  My face contorted in a scowl as I pulled back on my notched arrow. Every part of my body shivered in fear, with the exception of my steady hands. My anger was probably the only reason why I was able to hold the bow straight. “Halt!” I said in my best man voice as I released my arrow.

  It struck its target, which was the top of the leader’s helmet—the soldier that kicked Much.

  This seems like a good place to mention that I hate killing. I loathe it. It’s part of my cowardly personality, and you’re going to have to accept that. Thankfully I was talented enough in the art of archery that I was always able to shoot to wound—not kill.

  The soldiers immediately lifted their weapons as the leader whipped around, trying to see who hit him.

  “Who goes there?” he shrilly said as he rolled his eyes from one side of the road to the other.

  “You have taken an innocent boy, erm…man. Release him and I’ll let you escape with your lives!” I declared, speaking enough for them detect where I was.

  The leader glared up at me, trying to peer through the shadows cast on my face by my fastened cloak. He gave up and twisted around to hiss at the archer. “Shoot him!”

  The man straightened and reached behind him for his quiver, but I already had a notched arrow trained on him, which I released. It shattered his bow and embedded itself in the road.

  The soldiers gaped at me, turning pale with fear beneath their helms.

  I grimly smiled, another arrow notched. “Release him,” I repeated trailing my arrow onto the leader’s face.

  The leader squeaked, his knees shaking violently. “Do as he says!” he said.

  One guard stepped forward to push Much out of their formation. Much stumbled in my direction, staring up my tree. I kept my eyes on the soldiers, but I could practically feel Much grinning at me through his gag.

  “Who are you?” said a brave soldier.

  I opened my mouth to reply when Marian spoke for me.

  “Robyn!” Marian loudly said, confusing everyone for the moment.

  “Hood! Robyn Hood!” I said as I planned the murder of my best friend, the busy body big mouth. “Until next time!” I said, doing my best to sound boastful and confident, before I jumped out of my tree. I grabbed Much’s arm and dove into the forest, dragging him with.

  “Robin Hood! We’ll meet again!” the leader yelled, fading off into the distance as I snatched my horse’s reins and headed deeper into the forest, Marian on my heels with her mare.

  We ran for a good ten minutes before stopping, panting and huffing. I untied Much’s gag and used my hunting knife to cut through his bonds before I turned on Marian. “What were you THINKING? Giving them my real name? Honestly Marian I thought you had more sense then that!” I raved.

  Marian shrugged. “It does not matter. They clearly think you’re a man!”

  “That doesn’t make a difference! Eventually the bloated britches Sheriff will realize a man did not shoot his forester!” I protested.

  “The Sheriff? Surely you jest. That fool will never figure it out,” Marian said, folding her arms across her chest. “Besides, they already knew your name was Robyn. They refer to you as Robin Hood.”

  “So…what now?” Much asked, interrupting us.

  I sighed and scuffed my feet in the forest floor. “I’m not sure. I must apologize, Much. It seems like I’ve dragged into an even deeper mess.”

  “You saved my life Robyn, that’s hardly anything to regret,” Much said before flashing me a sweet smile. (This honeymoon phase of soppy smiles and easy words would last only a short time. Eventually Much’s nursemaid tendencies would reveal themselves.)

  “But you’ll never be able to return home,” I said.

  Much winked at me. “That’s too bad. I guess I’ll have to live here with you, Robin Hood!” he said.

  I scowled. “It’s not funny.”

  Marian squealed and clapped her hands. “This is so exciting! Robin Hood and her Merry Men, er, Merry Man! You’ll be regular outlaws in no time.”

  I frowned. “Just because I saved Much and there’s a warrant out for my arrest doesn’t mean I’m becoming an outlaw,” I said, hoping to nip this idea before it festered in Marian’s brain.

  Since I first met her, Marian had this unhealthy and ridiculous idea that peasants should revolt, become outlaws, and steal from the rich and give to the poor. It was a noble idea, but I didn’t want her painting my face into her mental fantasy.

  “Robyn, the people need you. They’re starving. Prince John is taxing the life out of them. But you could save them if you became an outlaw!” Marian said, planting her hands on her hips as she jutted her chin in my direction.

  “Because a peasant girl and a beanpole—who is hopefully going to stop growing or we’ll run out of food—could do anything to help all the peasants in Nottinghamshire,” I rolled my eyes.

  “Oh don’t worry,” Marian said, walking up to me to soothingly rub my back. “Once you get started I’m sure more Merry Men will come flocking to Sherwood.”

  “I don’t WANT more Merry Men! I don’t even want the one I’ve got!” I declared.

  “I beg your pardon?” Much frowned.

  Marian fixed me with her stubborn, blue eyes. “Robyn, you can’t go back. You have nothing left but to move forward. Think it over, please,” Marian said, mounting her mare before snatching up the reins to the borrowed bay. “You could help everyone you know,” she said, adjusting the reins.

  In spite of my protests a flood of faces filled my mind. Everyone was touched by taxation. No one was spared, and many families were going hungry since it was illegal to hunt deer. “I’ll wait Marian,” I stubbornly refused. “Maybe in a few weeks this will blow over.”

  Marian raised a blonde eyebrow. “If you say so. Much, I leave her in your hands. Good luck. Good night,” Marian called over her shoulder before crashing through the woods with the two horses.

  I sighed and peered into the forest. It was almost completely dark. “I hope she breaks her neck,” I muttered.

  “She’s right, Robyn,” Much continued where the young lady left off.

  “I said I would think about it, Much,” I said with all the finality I could muster, ending the topic. Well…I assumed that the topic was finished, but Marian never loses an argument. She only retreats long enough to recoup.

  “What next?” I asked Much, slapping my hands on my thighs.

  “We should get supplies from my family,” Much said as he inspected his homespun cream-colored shirt and tan breeches. “Although I think I want some clothes like yours. I look like a shining lantern in here.”

  “I have two more sets back at my camp, I can lend you one. Marian must think I roll around in the dirt for fun. Come on, you can change before we go to your parents’ house. We’ll have to be on our guard though, the Sheriff is sure to be out looking for us,” I said as I led the way through the forest, confidently striding towards my camp.

  “Are you sure you know where we’re going? I’ve never been in this part of the forest,” Much nervously said.

  “Positive. I know exactly where we are.”

  True to my word, within twenty minutes we came upon my camp as darkness closed in.

  “Here,” I said, tossing him one of the spare outfits. Leaving him to change I trotted to the edge of Sherwood Forest and gazed into the night, listening for any suspicious noises.

  Much found me there about five minutes later. “What’s wrong?” he asked as he fumbled around next to me.

  “I’m listening for the Sheriff,” I answered as Much lit a torch, illuminating the area around us. I continued to gaze at the countryside, still listening.

  “What for?”

  “He’ll probably go to your parents’ house, believing that you’d head back there first, in which case he would be correct,” I said. I turned around and inspected Much with a grin. He was my perfect match in his lincoln green clothes.


  His straw blonde hair was patted down, and his grey-blue eyes watched me as I studied him. He truly was growing like a weed. It was just weeks ago that I towered over him like a giant. Now we stood eye to eye.

  “Not bad. Come on, let’s go,” I said, my voice swallowed in the darkness as I slipped out of the forest. Much closely followed behind me, holding the torch above his head.

  We reached the miller’s house in under ten minutes. We traveled quickly, jogging almost the entire way. I was paranoid we would be spotted in the pitch black night.

  Before we reached the hut Much doused his torch, and we cautiously walked up the dirt path that led to the door of the hut. Much lifted his fist and hesitantly pounded on the wood door.

  “Coming!” a disheartened lady called before opening the door. “How can I help-MUCH!” she screamed as light from the home was shed upon us. “My son! Come in!” she cried as it started to drizzle. “How did you manage to escape?” she sobbed, tears and rain dripping down her face.

  Much paused and slowly stepped to the side, allowing his mother, Cristina, to see my cloaked figure. I paused before pulling back the hood of my cape.

  “Robyn!” she breathed, sounding astounded. Her blue eyes widened as she glanced around before hurriedly pulling us inside. She shut the door and Ronald, the miller and Much’s father, looked up.

  His face broke out into a grin as he spotted Much. “Much my boy! You escaped!” he said as he lumbered over to him and gave him a gruff hug.

  It was then that he noticed me. “Robyn? I thought you disappeared,” he said as Cristina took my cape and hung it up by the door. Ronald glanced back and forth between Much and I, taking in our strange apparel. He started to say something about our new obsession with the color green, but his wife interrupted.

  “We should let them sit down first, Ronald,” she said, herding us to the table. Much and I sat on rickety chairs as Cristina fluttered around us, setting out fresh slices of bread for us to devour.

  “Care to tell your story?” Ronald asked, his bushy eyebrows crawling towards his hairline as he watched us.