Heart of Sherwood Read online

  "How soon before you must go home?" she asked as she returned the note to Marian's gloved hand.

  "Mother believes me to be visiting the abbey to pray for father's swift homecoming; she does not expect me back until tomorrow," she replied as she slipped the folded parchment into her pocket.

  "Good!" Robyn said animatedly as she grabbed Marian's hands in hers. "I will need your help to formulate a plan. I suppose you'll be meeting the lads at last. Are you sure?"

  "Very sure," Marian responded with a coy smile. "Is your… dwelling private?" She was positive she noted Robyn's pulse jump at the question and suppressed a laugh as the blush rose in her lover's cheeks.

  "Little is private in the camp, but no one shares my tent, if that's what you mean. Fear not, my fair lady," she declared with humorous affection. "There is more than enough room for two."

  They moved into the kiss in tandem before Marian took Robyn's arm, offering her the reins to lead her mount. With her other hand, she straightened her golden circlet and smoothed back the simple linen veil that covered her braided strands.

  "I am not sure how much to tell the others, or how to convince them to join such a dangerous mission," Robyn offered.

  "They look up to you, Robyn. They have chosen you as their leader and they will do whatever you ask of them," Marian assured her, pulling closer as they walked.

  Robyn sighed and shook her head. "That is what I am afraid of. What if I get them all killed?"

  "You won't," Marian stated. "What if you sit idly by and let Prince John steal the throne?"

  "You know I shan't do that," she declared, turning her eyes to Marian. "But each man must decide for himself; I'll not insist that anyone come with me. I suppose I will be attending that archery contest after all."

  The whole gang was still in the small clearing, buzzing with excitement and speculative in their murmuring, but they waned to a hush as Robyn and Marian returned. Robyn handed off the reins to Much, who was recovering well from his wound.

  Charles bounded over to perform an elegant bow before Maid Marian, just as Alan had taught him. Alice hastened to catch up with him, placing her hands on the youth's shoulders to restrain him. She smiled and curtsied. "So good to see you, your ladyship. I pray all is well with you and your family."

  "It is, gramercy, Alice." Marian smiled warmly and Robyn stepped aside to let them throng around her with their words of admiration and praise, for Maid Marian's far reaching reputation was as much for her great kindness, as her exceeding beauty. She received them with humility and warmth, touching hands, and patting the heads of little ones. Marian was truly amazed to see the number and variety of outcasts whom Robyn cared for and led. Among them she spotted men, women, and children, Saxon, Norman, and Jew, thief and honest worker, a former nobleman and a defrocked friar. Her heart leapt at their enthusiastic embrace of her, for they were all precious in her eyes, each and every one.

  Before Marian had time to become too overwhelmed by their attention, Robyn climbed onto a large stone at the edge of the clearing and called, "Friends, Maid Marian, the incomparable goddaughter of our dear King Richard the Lionheart, has brought us important news this day." They quieted and began to gather around their leader, Robyn's inner core of Alan, Will, Tuck, Gilbert, and Little John at the fore, interest reading on their faces.

  She exchanged glances with Marian, who gave her a reassuring nod. Having everyone's attention, Robyn continued. "Maid Marian has received a report from Queen Eleanor about a plot to overthrow our King." Scowls and murmurs stirred through the crowd of loyal Englishmen.

  "I'll wager the Holy Cross itself, that Sheriff of Nottingham is involved," Friar Tuck roared, his face reddening.

  Robyn's eyes met his and she nodded. "The Sheriff, Sir Guy of Gisborne, and Prince John have conspired with barons and bishops from several counties here in the north against our brave King. Furthermore, the taxes they have been stripping us all bare to collect, the money that is meant to pay King Richard's ransom–they have other plans for that hoard." More head shakes and angry outbursts followed.

  "Bloody hell!" Will cried, crossing his arms over his chest. Robyn recalled how hard the tax collection had been on Will's mother and younger brother, and how they had taken food and provisions to their cottage in town.

  "One of the Queen's most trusted spies, embedded in Nottingham Castle, overheard their foul betrayal," she continued in a strong, emotion-filled tone. "Prince John wills to use it to hire a mercenary army to seize the throne while good King Richard is still imprisoned in a foreign land."

  "That's not right!" Little John's booming voice proclaimed as his bushy brows drew together over intense eyes.

  "Indeed, it is the height of treachery," Robyn agreed. "But we now know a great secret - that this cache will be held in Nottingham Castle a month hence, during the Martinmas Fair, before Prince John carries it to the coast to pay his foreign army. Therefore, the question is: what are we to do?"

  Robyn paused for a moment to glance around as members of the camp rubbed their heads and chins and muttered to one another. She took a deep breath and pressed on.

  "Thus far, we have done much good for the people of our shire," she declared smiling, gesturing to her band of outlaws. "We have fed and clothed the poor with funds the rich could well afford to lose. We have provided safe haven for the oppressed," she said motioning to the refugees among them, "and we have taken care of each other. But now, laid before us, is the chance to do something bigger, a pursuit of great import for all of England. If we were to empty the Prince's coffers and take that money to the Queen where it belongs, we would be foiling their traitorous scheme and securing the remaining finances for our King's release all in one daring raid."

  She paused for a moment, her eyes and tone growing more serious, as she spoke to them all straight from her heart.

  "It could be that we were born for this, for this very place and moment in time, to accomplish this great thing. Good Friar," she said, turning her gaze to him with an outreached hand. "Is it not like our God to use a handful of misfit outcasts to save a nation?"

  Tuck gave a pronounced nod and wiped a tear from his eye. "It is indeed like our God! For, as the scripture says, 'God hath chosen the weak things of the world to confound the things which are mighty'."

  Robyn's eyes lit intensely, but were masked in dread as she concluded. "See here, my friends. I cannot promise that if we do this, we will all get through it alive; I cannot even promise the attempt would succeed. I would not fault a one of you for bowing out, as is your right as free men to do. But who are we if we do not try?" After a labored breath, she perused the gathering and called in a clear, strong voice, "Who is with me?"

  "I am!" her friends cried out, some in unison, others following in quick succession. Excitement buzzed as they turned to one another in camaraderie.

  A sigh of relief at their support escaped Robyn's lips, and a smile tempered with solemnity crossed her face. "It is settled then; we shall save the kingdom for the Lionheart! Little John, Friar, and all the lads, we'll meet in the morning to prepare our plans, but for now let us show Maid Marian our hospitality."

  *~*~*

  Gilbert Whitehand, who was a friend of Sir Robert FitzWalter and remembered Marian from her childhood, escorted the honored guest on a tour while Alice Naylor and Beatrice from Loxley prepared food, and Alan strummed lively minstrel tunes on his mandolin. Children ran about playing games and laughter filled the air. But amid it all, Robyn felt the weight of responsibility like a huge boulder on her shoulders.

  After a while the meal was served and Marian took a seat beside Robyn, her countenance aglow. "I had no idea," she began in amazement. "I mean, I was aware that you had a camp in the forest and that others lived here with you, but Robyn, what you have done here is extraordinary."

  Robyn humbly bowed her head. "I haven't really done anything. It was Little John and Friar Tuck and everyone together. I may have facilitated and organized a wee bit, but-"

&
nbsp; She was interrupted by Marian placing an admiring kiss on her cheek. "Extraordinary."

  "Thank you," she replied simply.

  Just then Christina approached carrying a tin plate laden with pie. "Your ladyship," she said respectfully. "I know you most likely had blackberry pie at the feast in Nottingham, but me Mum made this, and she makes the best blackberry pie in all the shire." She held out the plate offering it to Marian.

  "Thank you," she answered with a delightful smile. "One can never have too much blackberry pie. Not even Prince John, Sir Guy, Sheriff Giffard, nay not even all the nobles of Nottingham have ever graced me with a feast such as this one." She took the pie plate and set it on the log between Robyn and herself. "I know I will enjoy it immensely."

  The young maiden's smile lit her eyes and then she ran back to her family.

  "Is that the girl from Loxley, the one you told me about?" Marian asked. Robyn nodded. "You have done especially well with her. She seems so… happy. They all do."

  "I wager they would be happier in their homes with all of their loved ones gathered 'round," Robyn replied and then took a bite of roasted venison.

  "Who shot the stag?" Marian asked between bites.

  "I did," she mumbled and Marian elbowed her in the ribs. "But John dressed it out and someone else cooked it–did it right well, too," she added with a wink.

  Then Marian spoke in a hush, saying, "You're going to miss this, when the King returns and everyone is pardoned. You will miss the excitement and adventure, even the danger."

  Robyn considered all her friends enjoying good food and good company by the firelight. "I will miss them," she responded. "But I knew from the onset this was only a temporary pretense. I would be doing well to keep it up for a year; eventually every boy becomes a man, his smooth face rough with hair." Then she turned her gaze to Marian. "I shall not miss fleas, lice, a damp, leaky tent and I do so wish to grow my hair long again!"

  Marian smiled coyly. Despite her earlier surprise and concerns regarding Robyn cutting her hair, she had grown used to it now. "Whether your hair is long or short, you are still beautiful. But here you are more than special–you are a hero of legends come to life. How can you just go back-?"

  "To being plain Robyn of Loxley?" she concluded.

  "I don't mean it that way." Marian stopped eating and touched a hand to Robyn's arm.

  Robyn's face took on a bitter-sweet quality. "I don't need songs to be sung and stories told about me. I only need you. After King Richard returns, providing I am still alive and breathing, I will simply embark on a new and even more exciting adventure with you."

  Marian's eyes began to glisten as she held back tears of elation. She swallowed and blinked. "Then I shall endeavor to live up to your expectations."

  *~*~*

  Later that night, after the dessert, dancing, and each one attempting to surpass the other when it came to entertaining Maid Marian, she and Robyn were finally able to steal away to Robyn's tent leaving the young lads to mind the waning embers of the fire. Once the tent flap closed, the two drew together in a tight embrace. Marian initiated a kiss that was long, deep, and searing, longing to give into the ache that only Robyn could ease.

  Slowly, Robyn pulled back, taking Marian's face between her palms and affectionately brushing her lips. "Now, I need parchment and a quill," she said, her mind overflowing with ideas as she searched about by candlelight. Marian expected this. A plan for securing the silver must be devised before anything else, even if it took all night. She cast her gaze about and saw no actual furniture. There were a few crates, some filled with contents and others overturned to act as short tables, and there was a straw heap with some blankets thrown over it to one end. She scrunched up her mouth. There was much to be said for adventure… but there was also much to be said for comfort. Oh well, she thought. What did you expect?

  "Ah, hah!" Robyn announced in triumph. "Now, we must jot down ideas, then line them up in order, sketch out a map of the castle, and then rethink, add, plan for every contingency." Armed with quill, paper, and a piece of wood to place them on, Robyn plopped down onto what passed for her bed. Then she looked up at Marian who stared down at her speculatively.

  "Fleas you say? Lice?"

  "Not very many," Robyn replied with nonchalant candor. Then, as if suddenly remembering something, she leapt to her feet. "I'm sorry! Let me help you down here."

  Marian took her hand, shook her head, and laughed at the absurdity of it all. "Now I know why we conduct our visits at my house." Robyn raised her brows and shot her a sheepish grin. "It is well, my Heart; I would forgo every comfort for an evening with you spent plotting the demise of that traitorous John Lackland and his cohorts."

  She nestled up beside Robyn and they set to work.

  *~*~*

  Hours passed in a flash and the camp was fast asleep by the time the preliminary strategy was completed. "I am not altogether certain about your part in the scheme," Robyn said with a frown. "There is clear danger involved. What if-"

  "Danger involving my part?" Marian questioned incredulously. "Scarcely a speck, whereas your role holds nothing but danger!"

  "I know what I'm doing," Robyn replied.

  "As do I, by God's teeth! I am taking that money to Queen Eleanor. Why, if a haircut and a tunic can pass you off as a boy, then black robes and a proper habit will of certs disguise me as a nun."

  Robyn weighed Marian's comment. "You will have Tuck with you, and he is the finest swordsman I've ever encountered, though he insists Giffard could best him."

  "And that is what has me worried the most," Marian confessed as she paused a moment to caress Robyn's cheek.

  "Taking him on is not part of the plan," Robyn reiterated. "If it comes to that, I'll handle it."

  "I know," Marian said softly. Robyn relaxed and lay back on the pillows, Marian following her. "It is an excellent strategy, and it just may work."

  "It will work," Robyn corrected with confidence. She stroked Marian's long silky strands, reveling in the sensation. I could drown in those lipid pools of blue, so easily be lost in pleasure. How she wanted it! But responsibility roared at her like a powerful beast, and she returned her attention to the issue at hand. "Now then, let us go over it all again to see what possibilities we may have overlooked." She felt Marian deflate as a ruptured wine skin. "I am sorry, Sweetling, but as much as I love the lads, there is no brain in this camp as keen as yours."

  "I am not certain of that," Marian replied modestly, "but I agree this is of the utmost import. I am indeed grateful that you wish to include me in your plans."

  Robyn looked at her in surprise. "Assuredly I would include you! I value your input, or I would not have asked for it. Do not grow impatient, Sweetling; before the night is spent, I will take you on another flight to the stars." She smiled at the flush that rose in Marian's face and met it with a kiss. "And now, back to the plan from the beginning…"

  Chapter Sixteen

  Sherwood Forest, the next day

  Wrapped in her cloak against the damp chill, Robyn sat crossed legged on the moist earth amid soggy brown leaves and tiny crawling insects. She was meticulously creating a replica of Nottingham Castle from rocks and sticks, even placing acorns to represent guards. Earlier that morning she had spoken with Friar Tuck, explaining what she wanted him to construct.

  "Give me a few hours," he had speculated, "and I believe I can have one ready to test out at the meeting." Then she had reluctantly seen Marian on her way, vowing to visit her on All Hallows Eve.

  With the day well underway, the outlaw crew began to gather around Robyn, eying her model with curiosity.

  "Hey, I know what that there is," Alan proclaimed sporting a look of recognition. "It's the castle at Nottingham. I've been there before, but I don't recall that part, or that over there," he said pointing.

  Will plopped down beside them and tugged his cloak tight around his shoulders. "How do you know what all is inside there?" he asked.

  Robyn glanc
ed to Little John who ambled over with Gilbert. The two older men chose a fallen log to sit on. Returning her gaze to Will, she replied, "Marian's spent a lot of time in the castle and was able to provide me with details." Of course I've spent plenty of time there as well over the years, but they don't need to know that. "Here is the main gate, and that is the side gate," she indicated. "The armory, stables, kitchens. This is the great hall and the Sheriff's office. Upstairs here are the living quarters and this building houses the guest lodgings. Soldiers' barracks are back here. There are always guards at these stations," she explained while touching spots on her representation. "But there will be so many strangers coming and going because of the fair, anyone who acts as though they belong should not be questioned."

  "That rock with the cross in front," Much pointed out as David helped him to a seat in the growing circle. "Is that a church?"

  "There's a chapel in the castle," Robyn explained as she added a few finishing touches.

  Arthur chuckled. "I wouldn't suppose the Sheriff spends much time in there, then."

  Robyn looked up, satisfied with her reproduction, and passed her gaze around the gathering. She smiled as she heard the booming laugh of Friar Tuck as he left the camp center, clomping through the undergrowth to their meeting spot. Alan glanced over his shoulder to see Tuck toting a wooden keg. "God bless you, Friar! You knew exactly what would spark up this crew of ne'er do wells!"

  Tuck shook his head, an amused twinkle in his eyes as he slung the barrel down and sat on it. "Why Alan, 'tis not even midday! Let us save a bit of mead for after supper." With a wide grin, he winked at Robyn and she nodded to him in return.

  "Now, on with the plan. From November 11th to 19th, Nottingham will be hosting the annual Martinmas Fair, which culminates with the Sheriff's archery contest on the tournament field over here." She motioned to a spot northwest of the castle.

  Little John frowned, scratching his beard. "I would be suspicious; he knows how good you are. It could be a trap."

  "Certs it is a trap," Robyn agreed, "which is why I shall be competing in it."