Everything is a Choice

Chapter 21

Previously...

Rowena raises her bow, sights on the nearest knight.

I hate to deny her this moment, and I don’t doubt her abilities, but I’m tired of losing people I care about.  Because, even though we’ve only just met, I realise I care about this girl very much, although whether it’s because she reminds me of Marian, or of myself, when I first became an outlaw, I cannot say.

Bow and arrow at the ready, I make for the door.  It’s time for the real Robin Hood to make an appearance.

 Chapter 21

“Now!” Luke Scarlett cries, aiming his nocked arrow and charging towards the mounted knights, the other two young men right behind him.

My God! When did Luke grow up? Is that the beginnings of a beard on his chin?

“Fools,” Rowena says, appearing at my elbow.

“Get back inside,” I tell her.

“Not bloody likely.” She nocks and looses an arrow, hitting a knight’s upraised shield and drawing their attention away from the reckless threesome. “You watch out for your gang and I’ll watch out for mine.”

I can see that arguing with her will get me nowhere.

“Get away from my house,” Rowena warns the advancing knights, quickly giving me a sheepish look of apology. 

“You heard the lady,” I shout.  “She doesn’t work for Prince John any more. She’s with me. Now leave my village, or you’ll have my arrows to answer to.”

“Robin Hood!” Luke whoops.  

I have to admit it’s a pleasurable feeling, watching the knights turn to one another and then rein their horses to a slow walk, doubtless wary now they know England’s finest archer has them in his sights.

Unsheathing their swords, four of the knights wheel their mounts around and canter towards Luke and his two friends. Unlike the mailed, helmed knights, Rowena’s gang are not wearing anything more than their workaday clothes. They don’t stand a chance against the knights and their warhorses.

“Luke,” I shout. “Run. Leave this to us.”

Luke and his two companions skid to a halt. The knights are almost upon them. Rowena smacks into my bow arm as she rushes out the door.

“Damn,” I curse. Just my luck to run into another woman who thinks she can fight like a man. Heart pounding, I leap out the door and run as my recurring nightmare meets the light of day. Marian!

“To arms,” I yell.

Moments later, Much, John and Allan are at my side, weapons drawn.

“Go, go!” Little John shouts, waving his staff. Luke’s two companions quickly turn tail. Luke hesitates a moment, his nocked arrow still aimed at the rapidly closing knights. Then, with a quick nod in my direction, he lowers his bow and sprints after his two friends doubtless realising he cannot hope to best the mounted knights.

The four knights, seeing their adversaries fleeing, turn and gallop back to their fellow knights. We are outnumbered and on foot.

“Shoot the horses,” I shout to Rowena.

She raises her longbow and starts loosing arrows at the knights’ destriers and I do likewise.  I hate maiming or killing such fine animals, but I figure we stand a better chance if our enemy is on foot, hampered by heavy mail, padded jacks and flapping surcoats while we are free to move with alacrity.