The familiar, loud voice projected far into the forest. Robin and the gang groaned in recognition. No one was overly fond of the braggart Clorinda of Ashfield. While not entirely useless she was a nuisance by nature, and no one liked her constant loud-mouthing, her brazenly wild attitude, or her never ceasing bragging. But now that she knew where their camp was, it was unadvisable to deny her entrance. Her father was a Black Knight; she had already proven that she did not share in her father's morals, as two weeks had gone by, and the gang had not been attacked they surmised that whatever faults Clorinda had, she was no traitor.
She came riding hard, and pulled on the reigns of her chestnut mare as she finished her song. She gave a hearty wave to the gang, and received a very half hearted one in return. She dismounted, leaving the mare tied up to a tree and headed over to the rest of the gang. “Good morning, all!” she said cheerily, “Wonderful day, eh?”
“What do you want, Clorinda?” Robin asked in a no nonsense tone.
“Ah, Robin, the very man I need to speak with.” She stood smiling as he approached her, “Alone.” she finished.
Robin sighed, rubbing his forehead in annoyance as he took her by the arm and lead her a pace or two away from the rest of the gang. Out of earshot, but not eyesight. “What is it.” He asked, crossing his arms.
The sudden drop in volume and addition of seriousness startled Robin into listening to the woman, “News for you. Father got a letter from the Sheriff, hid it though...lucky that I'm a top little sneak and managed to take a quick read through of it before he stashed it.”
Robin's eyes narrowed, silently bidding her to get on with it. Clorinda gulped, taking the message, “Right, well The Sheriff's invited him to a meeting at Nottingham Castle in three days...him and the rest of the Black Knights, I'm sure. Now I don't know what's what with this meeting, but I don't like it. I'm to go along as well, and I've never been asked to go anywhere; neither has my Mother. A sort of Midspring Fair,” she snorted, “Fair my aunt's underwrappings, that's what I say. Anyway,” She shrugged, “Thought you ought to know, might be able to do a bit of sneaking about while I'm there, eh? Good ruse, hm?”
“You did well to tell me this.” Robin remarked thoughtfully.
“I did?” Clorinda seemed genuinely flabbergasted by that, “I mean...” she coughed, “Of course I did. Do stuff like this all the time, you know.”
“No you don't.” Robin said gruffly.
“Beg pardon?” Clorinda remarked, nonplussed.
“I said, no you don't you great bragger. You don't fool me.” Robin said, a small smile breaking through his stern features.
Clorinda seemed a bit crestfallen at that remark before puffing herself up. “Fat lot you know about me! Bet I could best you in a swordfight right now, and prove it to you!”
“You don't know the first thing about wielding a blade, and you know it.” Robin said, prodding Clorinda in the stomach with a finger.
Clorinda batted the offending hand away, disgruntled. “Fine then, bet I can shoot an arrow further than you, how's that?”
Robin nearly fell over laughing. “Right then. You've got yourself a bet. Tell you what if you can shoot an arrow further than I can, I'll even let you join my gang permanently.”
“What? Really?” Clorinda's eyes brightened up considerably, “Do you mean it?”
Robin was already notching an arrow to his bow, by now the rest of his gang had drifted over to watch; allured by the aggravating tones in which the mad woman and their leader had been conversing in. “If you win.” He smiled.
YOU ARE READING
The Storyteller
Fanfiction(A Robin Hood BBC fanfic) After suffering the loss of Marian, Robin Hood has fallen into despair and Sir Guy is rapidly spiraling into madness. The imprisonment of a Locksley weaver girl and storyteller may recall them both to life. One will find hi...
