Robyn Hood: Fight For Freedom
Read Robyn Hood: Fight For Freedom Online
Authors: K. M. Shea
Robyn Hood:
Fight for Freedom
By: K. M. Shea
a Take Out The Trash! Publication
Robyn Hood
A Girl’s Tale
Fight for Freedom
Princess Ahira
My Life at the MBRC
Chapter 1: My Nemesis is Honorable
Chapter 2: Marian at Nottingham
Chapter 8: Capturing the Sheriff
I turned Crafty around so I could get my last gaze of the camp. The cheerful fires were burning, and it looked dreamy and nostalgic in the starlight. I stared at the camp, burning the image in my mind the way a thirsty man drinks water. I intended for it to be my last look at my Merry Men and our home.
I breathed in, drawing my shoulders back, and directed Crafty into the darkness of Sherwood.
I would no longer be Robin Hood, the Bold and Brave Outlaw of Sherwood Forest.
Chapter 1
My Nemesis is Honorable
The light from the camp quickly disappeared in the trees, and once we were a safe distance away I urged Crafty into a trot. He tugged on the reins, wanting to go faster, but I was already taking a big chance with riding in the dark so we kept our pace.
By the time we exited Sherwood F
orest the sun started peeking over the horizon, and I eased Crafty into a canter. It was much smoother than the jarring motion of the trot, which had turned the dull pains in my back turn into more of a stabbing sensation. The canter soothed my sore muscles, and Crafty gave me a surprisingly pleasant ride.
I
slowed him down when we neared Nottingham Castle. Crafty snorted before he walked along, slightly sweaty from his workout. I dismounted and shortened one of my stirrups so it was tucked underneath the flap. I then mounted and sat side saddle, shaking slightly as I supported my leg against Crafty’s side. It was an exercise of faith in the horse that I could have gone without experiencing. Riding, precariously perched on Crafty’s back, was not the most comforting of positions.
Thankfully Nottingham was only
a five minute ride, and I entered the castle without raising suspicion.
Once inside
I wandered for the better part of an hour. I had no idea what I was doing, or even where I should go. I had simply ridden to Nottingham on instinct.
The sun was
fully over the horizon when Crafty became irritated. He was hungry, and usually by now I would have let him out to graze in the forest. He tossed his head several times while I dismounted—intending to lead him out of the castle. Instead the blasted horse dragged me into a nearby stable. I fought him every step of the way, but the giant lug easily pulled me along.
Craft
y took a drink from a water trough as I pulled on the reins, which he ignored. While we were fighting a tall, familiar-looking, blond haired man entered the stable. He was probably a little older than Little John, although he was built like Much. It took me a few moments before I could place him. He was that steward fellow who followed the Sheriff at the archery contest.
Upon spotting my horse and I he
smiled. “He’s thirsty?”
“Very
much so,” I dryly said.
“I’m
George Comwell, the Sheriff’s apprentice,” he said with a bow.
My world rocked for a moment. Sheriff’s apprentice? This was the man who was apparently behind the greatest schemes to get me?
“Mary Gamwell,” I said with a smile to hide my fear. When I realized what I said I wanted to yelp, Will Scarlet’s true last name had rolled off my lips without a thought. “Tell me, Master Comwell. Do many Sheriffs have apprentices?” Maybe there was more than one of them.
George blushed.
“Truth be told, it is not my official title. I’m really more of his assistant. I call myself the Sheriff’s apprentice because I hope to inherit the position when he is elevated into a new office,” he said with a comely grin. “But tell me. Did you say Gamwell? As in relation to the Earl of Maxfield, William Gamwell?” he asked.
I froze.
I was being punished for leaving my men in a cowardly way. That had to be it. What were the chances that I would run into my greatest of foes and that he would know Scarlet’s family? “Yes, a distant cousin. Although William did lose his title,” I smoothly replied.
“So I heard,” George grimly said.
“I knew the former Earl of Maxfield. He was a good man.”
I nodded, keepin
g my guard up around this brilliant man. He would
never
suspect me to be Robin Hood because of my gender, but I didn’t need him to suspect of any kind of connection between me and the outlaws of Sherwood. Even if I was gone there was no sense plaguing my men with worse problems. “I’m not quite sure what happened to him. My mother said he left for Nottingham, but I’m not sure where he went after that,” I said.
“Y
ou’re looking for him then?” George asked.
“
Goodness, no,” I laughed as I searched my mind for a believable story. “I only met him a handful of times. I came here to see Prince John.”
“Ah. Well that’s good.
You won’t find William Gamwell anywhere,” George grimly said.
“What do you mean?” I asked as my pulse quickened
. Exactly how much did he know about us?
“William Gamwell is
no more. He’s taken the name of Will Scarlet and he lives in Sherwood Forest. He is one of Robin Hood’s men.”
“He is
?” I said, doing my best to sound astonished instead of terrorized. My fears were confirmed, George was most likely the one dogging down my men and me rather than the fat, brainless Sheriff.
“
Yes. No one else knows Will Scarlet’s true surname though, I would appreciate it if you kept silent about his business with Robin Hood. It would be better for him if he slipped away before anyone else found out, or if he hangs on the gallows as Will Scarlet and young Gamwell simply disappears,” George bitterly said with a confused look on his face, as though he didn’t understand why he was telling me all of this.
“You must
have greatly admired his father,” I said.
“
I did. I served as a page under him for several years,” George said, pressing his lips together. “Why his
son
chose to dirty the family name and go charging around with the barbaric Robin Hood is beyond me.”
I in
ternally shook my fist at him. I was NOT barbaric! “Perhaps he believed in that trite robbing thing Robin Hood is said to be doing. What was it again? Stealing from the rich…”
“
To give to the poor,” George finished Marian’s Outlaw Dream with a weary sigh and a scowl. “I’ve heard it too many times. The peasants in this shire hold him higher than Prince John, nay, King Richard! He’s tearing the government of Nottingham into shambles. If he’s as smart as he boasts he should be able to figure out another way to do this,” he said before straightening up. “I’m sorry to place the weight of these matters on you, Lady Mary. Robin Hood has been a temporary curse to the Sheriff, and we are doing our best to catch him,” he said with a smile. “In the meantime is there anything I can do to help you?”
A part of me felt bad. I never thought my enemy would be
a good guy. It is easy to rebel against the Sheriff. He’s a silly cad. But George…
I glanced at Crafty
, who had finally stopped drinking and was eyeing up a hay bale. “Is the feast for Prince John still going on?” I carefully asked.
“Yes,”
George pleasantly said. “It shall last another week, ending with a masquerade ball.”
“Then I’ll most certainly need to find a room for myself, as well
as a place for my horse to stay,” I said, hardly able to believe how daring I was as I motioned to Crafty who had fixed his eerie gaze on George.
George shivered
. “That is an intimidating horse you have there,” he said as Crafty snarled at him, revealing stained teeth. “Where are your bags?” he asked, peering up and down the barn aisle as there were none on Crafty.
“A few of my father’s men are coming w
ith them later this afternoon. They were held up at the market, I forged my way ahead without them,” I sheepishly said as I hung my head. I tried to tell myself over and over that I had nothing to fear from George. After all I wasn’t Robin Hood anymore.
“
Excellent,” George said with a charming smile. “Let me call a stable hand and he’ll take your horse,” he said as he walked down the musty aisle. He came back a few minutes later, a scruffy looking boy trotting after him.
“What’s
‘es name miss?” the stable boy asked as he hesitantly took the reins from my hand.
I paused,
thinking for a moment. It would probably be best to give Crafty a fake name as well, just in case. “Nightmare,” I said.
T
he boy’s eyes got bigger as he led Crafty down the stable aisle and into a stall. Crafty wickedly nickered.
George laughed as he gallantly
offered his arm, which I took. He led me to the keep, introducing me to lords and ladies as we went. We walked up a seemingly endless tower of stairs before we came to a hallway.
“Here we go,”
George said, fiddling with a key before he opened it and let me in. It was a medium sized room with a giant fire place, several beautiful tapestries on the walls, and a large canopy bed. It was the most expensive place I had ever seen in my young, peasant life.
“T
hank you so much Master Comwell,” I gushed. “Are you sure this is… allowable?” I asked.
“Of course,”
George said with a pleasant smile. “I’m in charge of the rooms. Most lords or ladies would get an audience with the sheriff to get housing, and then he would refer them to me. You’ve just skipped a few steps. Besides, the Sheriff won’t ever remember if he’s seen you before or not,” he assured me.
Yes… Robin Hood’s enemy was ironically a charming, honorable man.
George left me after I guaranteed my guards would soon be along. The second he left I peered out of the door and left my room, locking it behind me with the key he had given me, going to look for my new wardrobe. After all, I am thief.
