Lady Marian

Chapter 20

The voices edged themselves into my dreamless sleep, but could not rouse me. As if lost in a fog I wondered why Sarah had come so soon to waken me, and why she had not lit the fire. I flung an arm over my eyes to block out the sunlight as the musty scent of wood and soil permeated my nostrils. The rough ground jabbed my back as I rolled over. Still half asleep I tried to put together the pieces of the preceding evening.

Father Tuck's worried tone reminded me all too well.

"They are closer," he said.

"They kept to the river, they did. Robin told me and she was wet right through enough to prove it. We may be safe yet." The slight tremor in Much's voice was unmistakable.

"It would be wise to leave now, before the dogs lead them to the river." The stamp of Little John's staff emphasized his point.

"Lord Fitzwalter is a determined man. If he wants Lady Marian to be queen, he will not stop until..."

Will interrupted the priest, "Listen—they are getting closer. They are, I tell you."

The sound of tree branches parting silenced the gang's morning meeting. "Gather the supplies. We need to move now." Robin's command was quick and direct.

Much whispered, "Robin said she injured a guard last night—and took the bishop hostage, she did. Aye, and look at the blood on her dagger. She will make a good fighter in time."

I was still too dazed with sleep to feel any pride or shame.

"Come now, man, we have much work to do and far to run."

I felt a hand on my shoulder, then cupping my face. I opened my eyes to my first day in Sherwood Forest. Yellow leaves shifted in the breeze above my head. Dark, soft moss sank under my fingers as I tried to rise. My body ached from the night on the ground. I rubbed my neck and felt my hair loosening itself from the tight plaits Sarah had bound two days before. I plucked a leaf out of my hair, trying not to disturb what remained of my maid's handiwork.

"Marian." Robin stooped down beside me. "The foresters are getting closer."

"Foresters?" I asked still half asleep, pulling the dirty blanket around my neck.

"With dogs, Marian. They are looking for you. We must break camp."

I looked beyond Robin. The Merry Men and Tuck stood ready with packs on their backs and weapons in their hand—swords for Will and Much and staffs for Little John and the burly priest.

"We must go now, Lady Marian." Little John stomped the ground with his staff. I half expected an earthquake to follow. "I'd rather be unarmed and meet the sheriff than dressed in full armour and face a pack of hounds."

I nodded, bending one aching knee to rise.

"Go," Robin commanded his men. "We will meet at the trysting tree at noon."

The men nodded. Without wasting another moment, they turned and set off through the forest at a quick pace. Father Tuck leaned on his staff for support as he lagged huffing behind the others.

"Come now, my Marian." Robin hoisted me to my feet. I took one stiff step after another.

"It will get easier; you will grow strong." Robin laced an arm under my shoulders.

"I am strong already—I am here," I said. Robin's mouth turned up so very slightly at the edges.

We set off at an angle to the path the rest of the band took. In the distance, the low baying of the hounds coupled with the shouts of their masters. The incessant howling sent shivers rippling through my skin. I imagined their jaws nipping at my heels. My limbs loosened at the thought, driving me to a faster pace.