I slung my quiver over my shoulder, and my bow followed. Lastly came the pack of food and coins we were bringing. It was time to go to Locksley. "Let's go, rich boy." I called out. Robin rolled his eyes and followed through the trees.
"You don't use the path. How do you know your way?" he asked. I guess I wasn't the only one who liked to ask questions. I had to roll my eyes.
"I have lived in this forest since I was a child. I am following a path. It is not my fault that you can not see it." It was true. I could see the subtle paths made through the forest by animals. Usually when I went to Locksley, I used the trees, but with Robin, I decided to walk. It seemed like a good idea, since he was still stumbling through the trees. "You'll never sneak up on someone like that."
"Well I am sorry, but I didn't do much in the forest growing up," he answered.
"Don't look down. Look at what's ahead. Your feet will find the right spot to step on if they already know what is coming," I said. He didn't say anything else, but I could hear his footsteps less. Thank God. "Better."
"Thank you." He caught up to me and I could feel him looking at me.
"What is it?" I asked, shaking my head.
"Why do you not want people to know what happened to you?"
"This again? You lost."
"Yes, and you never told me how you knew how long I was away."
There was no way I could tell him how I knew. But I could stretch the truth. "I saw you. Once, when I was little. So I made an educated guess."
He was silent for a few long moments. "But how did you know I left right after that? I could have still been in England."
I stopped in order to look him in the eye. "Drop it." I knew my voice was too cold by the look on his face. I shouldn't have said anything. Now he was suspicious. He would not be able to figure out the truth, but I didn't think he would just let it go now. Dammit.
The boys treated me differently after I won the archery contest. They didn't like me, but they respected my abilities. After that, I thought that I could learn to use other weapons as well. What if I got to the sheriff without my bow? I couldn't risk not being able to kill him. So I watched John fighting with his staff. It was so long, bigger than he was, and I was so small. I wouldn't be able to use that, but watching him was fascinating. He moved so fast, every motion fluid, each movement part of the next one.
"Hey Scar. Want to try?" John had stopped, looking at me. I knew he was talking to me but I turned around, then pointed at myself. He nodded and I came closer.
"I don't even know if I can hold it." I said, feeling small.
He nodded, putting the staff down. "Maybe not yet. But you won't be using mine. We'll make you one that you'll be able to use. Shorter, lighter."
I grinned. "Really? You think I could do that?"
"Course you can, lass. Now come here." John picked up his staff and handed it to me. I almost stumbled, but held tight to it, my hands gripping until my fingers grew white.
"Relax your grip," he said. He pushed my hands apart. "Keeping your hands further apart helps you hold on better, and have smoother movements. Now show me your swing."
I swung the staff, and I heard him choke back a laugh as I stumbled. The thing was so dang heavy! "When were you able to swing this staff right, John?" I asked, glaring at my father figure.
"You're right. I was older, and stronger. Alright, keep trying."
Robin stayed quiet for the rest of our trip. I don't know if it was because of what I said or if he was trying to think of some different way to get under my skin. I decided to let it go for now, since we had a job to do. We got to Locksley around midday, and I watched from the trees. "Not how you expected to return, is it?" I asked him softly.
"No. Not exactly. I just hope they don't think I abandoned them. They're my people."
"Don't get angry, but I don't think they should know it's you."
"What are you talking about?" he hissed at me. I stepped on his foot.
"Be quiet," I whispered. "You said it yourself. The Sheriff wants you dead. Do not put it on these people to keep you a secret. If he find out that they knew you were here, he'd cut off some hands, and hang some of them. That is not fair. So put your hood up, and stay quiet." He looked like he wanted to protest, so I pulled hard on his hood and he shut up. When he didn't say anything else, I walked out of the woods. When the peasants so it was me, they started to crowd around. I gave out what food I had to the ones who needed it most. I was in Locksley plenty, I knew who needed what. Even with his hood up, I could feel Robin watching me.
I tried my best to ignore him, talking to the villagers about their needs. There was only so much I could do, but they always appreciated when someone listened. Occupied as I was, I didn't see Robin circulating like I was.
I don't know why I felt the need to learn different ways of fighting at ages eleven, but I did. I felt more comfortable doing physical things, like helping with the harvest, or stealing from soldiers, than spending time with the women and children.
I was twelve when I officially became an outlaw. The soldiers didn't know my name, but they learned my face after I stole under their noses almost a dozen times. I never stole much, just enough to help John's ever growing family. But finally, they did catch me. They were surprised that I was a girl. So surprised that the soldier holding me didn't expect me to knee me where it hurts, and I was able to run for it. But now they knew who I was. I couldn't go back to the village, not if they would search for me.
By that time I was living with Fanny and the children, and John was living in the forest with the other men who were outlaws, so I joined them. I packed up the few belongings that I had and found my way to them. Will was the first to see me, and he ran to me. "What are you doing here, Scar?" he asked softly, even though he must've known what had happened. He didn't wait for my response, but pulled me close to him. "It's okay, Scar."
When I found Robin again, he was talking to one of the villagers. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw his hood was up. "We have to go," I mumbled. We said our goodbyes and went back to the trees. "What did you tell them about yourself? I told you-"
He cut me off. "I told them my name was Robin, and I was from a different village. I told them I just started helping you all."
I nodded slowly, biting my lip. "Okay."
"Where are you from?" he asked. I sighed, giving him a look that he ignored.
"Far from here, but that was a long time ago. I moved closer when I was six."
"And your family?"
"I don't know. I haven't seen them since. They could be dead and I wouldn't know." I winced, thinking about my mother and brother. If my brother was still alive, he would be king eventually. I thought about it plenty, but I still wasn't sure if it would change anything for me.
He sighed. "I almost feel like I have it better. At least I know."
I stopped to look at him. I almost made a sarcastic comment, but stopped short. "Maybe you do, Robin, maybe you do."
YOU ARE READING
Will and Scarlett (undergoing rewrites)
HistoryczneCover by saintelysian A retelling of Robin Hood. Scarlett was never meant to wear rags. She was never meant to shoot an arrow. But here she is, living in Sherwood Forest with the famous outlaws, calling herself one of them.