Loxley. Joan had to be crazy with
worry about her doddering parents, but she hadn’t let it cloud her
judgment.
Unlike Robyn.
Marion’s broad shoulders slumped. “Sheffield.”
“ Yes, but . . . where in Sheffield? Are they relocating them
or have they all been arrested and thrown in the dungeons? How many
wagons did they have?” Robyn felt a spike of pride at being able to
ask something sensible.
“ Only one extra carriage. They loaded it with everything
they stole back from us . . . and made everyone walk back to
Sheffield ahead of it.”
“ And where were you all this time?” Joan asked.
“ Steady on,” Robyn said.
“ No, she’s right to be cross.” Marion said. “I ran and hid.
Then ripped the sign off when they weren’t looking and ran to
Littleton to find you.”
“ Wait a minute,” Robyn’s mind stopped spinning for long enough
to make sense of all this. “They nail up a sign, knowing full well
hardly anyone in the village can read.”
“ Except us, of course,” Marion said.
Her heart skipped a beat, but she didn’t think anyone noticed.
“Of course, but . . . they pack the rest of us off, and leave a
sign up in an empty village, which they then set fire
to.”
“ They think we’re blokes, remember?” Joan said with a wicked
grin. “Everyone knows most girls can’t read. But some men can. My
dad can . . . a bit. So they put the sign up to let us know they’re
on to us. Figuring we’ll have to come back at some
point.”
Again Joan had it all worked out. The girl may look a
brute, but she had a fine mind.
“ OK, so they’re sending us a message. Let’s send them one
back,” Robyn said. The words poured out of her before she could
chicken out. “We take the fight to them. We take back what’s
ours.”
“ How?” Marion asked.
“ I’ll figure the details on the way. For now, let’s salvage
what we can from here, then we go to Sheffield.”
A broad grin split Joan’s face. “I like it.”
“ I don’t,” Marion said. “We should think this through some
more. Have a more detailed plan.”
Robyn threw her hands up in frustration. “I’ve already given
us a plan. Sure as the sun comes up in the morning, Roger and his
men will be back here, raiding the village and the Shire Wood
looking for us. But they won’t catch us napping, because we’ll
already be in Sheffield.”
Marion scratched at his top lip, as if the few soft whiskers
there itched him. Was this his way of trying to remind them he was
the man of the village? That he should be in charge?
Robyn wasn’t buying it. She had her blood up and her mind
fixed. “They’ve taken everything from us, we have nothing left to
lose.”
***
In her hiding place beside the King’s Road, Ellen took a
woollen blanket from the strong box and wrapped it around herself.
No way could she set a fire for warmth; the light would provide a
beacon for anyone else to find her here.
She didn’t mind the cold. She’d grown up in the valleys and
dales and had spent many nights sleeping under the stars. Watching
over sheep and making sure most of them got back to the village.
She only ever took what she could eat, mind. Especially when one of
the ewes had twins. Twins were bad luck, weren’t they? They drained
the mother of energy and took so much longer to grow. So to be
honest, she was doing the farmers a favor when she weeded out a
spindly twin to feed her belly. Or the male lambs. After all, the
males would only be sorted out later so they didn’t cause trouble
for the flock in the long run.
Shepherding was always good while it lasted and she could
usually last in one place for a few months until the locals wised
up to her and ran her out of their valley.
Alas, she’d run out of so many valleys, moved on so many times
she wasn’t sure if she knew know how to get back. And to be honest,
she didn’t know if she really wanted to. It didn’t rain here half
as much as it had in the valleys.
And she’d eaten enough
worry about her doddering parents, but she hadn’t let it cloud her
judgment.
Unlike Robyn.
Marion’s broad shoulders slumped. “Sheffield.”
“ Yes, but . . . where in Sheffield? Are they relocating them
or have they all been arrested and thrown in the dungeons? How many
wagons did they have?” Robyn felt a spike of pride at being able to
ask something sensible.
“ Only one extra carriage. They loaded it with everything
they stole back from us . . . and made everyone walk back to
Sheffield ahead of it.”
“ And where were you all this time?” Joan asked.
“ Steady on,” Robyn said.
“ No, she’s right to be cross.” Marion said. “I ran and hid.
Then ripped the sign off when they weren’t looking and ran to
Littleton to find you.”
“ Wait a minute,” Robyn’s mind stopped spinning for long enough
to make sense of all this. “They nail up a sign, knowing full well
hardly anyone in the village can read.”
“ Except us, of course,” Marion said.
Her heart skipped a beat, but she didn’t think anyone noticed.
“Of course, but . . . they pack the rest of us off, and leave a
sign up in an empty village, which they then set fire
to.”
“ They think we’re blokes, remember?” Joan said with a wicked
grin. “Everyone knows most girls can’t read. But some men can. My
dad can . . . a bit. So they put the sign up to let us know they’re
on to us. Figuring we’ll have to come back at some
point.”
Again Joan had it all worked out. The girl may look a
brute, but she had a fine mind.
“ OK, so they’re sending us a message. Let’s send them one
back,” Robyn said. The words poured out of her before she could
chicken out. “We take the fight to them. We take back what’s
ours.”
“ How?” Marion asked.
“ I’ll figure the details on the way. For now, let’s salvage
what we can from here, then we go to Sheffield.”
A broad grin split Joan’s face. “I like it.”
“ I don’t,” Marion said. “We should think this through some
more. Have a more detailed plan.”
Robyn threw her hands up in frustration. “I’ve already given
us a plan. Sure as the sun comes up in the morning, Roger and his
men will be back here, raiding the village and the Shire Wood
looking for us. But they won’t catch us napping, because we’ll
already be in Sheffield.”
Marion scratched at his top lip, as if the few soft whiskers
there itched him. Was this his way of trying to remind them he was
the man of the village? That he should be in charge?
Robyn wasn’t buying it. She had her blood up and her mind
fixed. “They’ve taken everything from us, we have nothing left to
lose.”
***
In her hiding place beside the King’s Road, Ellen took a
woollen blanket from the strong box and wrapped it around herself.
No way could she set a fire for warmth; the light would provide a
beacon for anyone else to find her here.
She didn’t mind the cold. She’d grown up in the valleys and
dales and had spent many nights sleeping under the stars. Watching
over sheep and making sure most of them got back to the village.
She only ever took what she could eat, mind. Especially when one of
the ewes had twins. Twins were bad luck, weren’t they? They drained
the mother of energy and took so much longer to grow. So to be
honest, she was doing the farmers a favor when she weeded out a
spindly twin to feed her belly. Or the male lambs. After all, the
males would only be sorted out later so they didn’t cause trouble
for the flock in the long run.
Shepherding was always good while it lasted and she could
usually last in one place for a few months until the locals wised
up to her and ran her out of their valley.
Alas, she’d run out of so many valleys, moved on so many times
she wasn’t sure if she knew know how to get back. And to be honest,
she didn’t know if she really wanted to. It didn’t rain here half
as much as it had in the valleys.
And she’d eaten enough
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