Phoebe -- A Description (public view)

ROBIN

Being completely alone, with only two stolen horses for companionship, is not a healthy state at the tender age of fifteen. I had been gently reared, despite my hoydenish tendencies, and the real world frightened me. Perhaps frighten is too strong a word. But I was still weak from the beating my husband had dealt, and the loss of my child, and the world outside of the village I had always lived near was quite unnerving.

I wandered for near a week, keeping away from villages. I was nervous that someone might be searching for me for what I had done to my husband. I ate off the land, having learned much of what was edible as a child.

I was approaching a village, about a week's journey from Edward's lands, intending to find a solid meal and perhaps a sword for protection. To this day I find it quite surprising that I had made it so far without being attacked.

"Halt!"

At the loud shout, I did so, scanning the area for its owner.

"What business have you in Rye?" another voice called out from behind me.

I steeled my voice to calm, when I felt anything but. "Dinner and a place to lay my head."

There was a deep chuckle from a third direction. "To lay your head? I can provide that."

"Show your face!" I called back. "Are you such a coward?"

Four men, all with thick beards and long hair stepped out, surrounding me. I held my chin high, recalling every ounce of training I had ever experienced as a lady, and refused to back down. One of the men approached me, walking right by me to inspect the horse tethered to my own. "A fine piece of horseflesh," he told me calmly. He took in my gown, filthy from the road, and my own dirt-smudged face. "Stolen?"

I tried to conceal the expression, but he must have seen it in my eyes. He reached up, and before I could protest, swung me down from the horse. He was a large man, slightly broader than average, and taller than myself. He pushed me towards another of the men. "Take her on your mount, Daniel, and we'll see what the laird wants to do with her."

As I swung up onto the horse, which had been hidden a bit aways from where I met them, I could feel my hands starting to shake. I dug my fingernails into the flesh of my palms, willing myself calm as crystal. If I showed fear, it would be like showing fear to a wild animal, I felt. If not worse.

Daniel wrapped his arms about my sides, reaching for the reins. He was the smallest of the man, only a lad really, of perhaps eighteen. "Ye musn't worry," he whispered softly. "We only steal from the rich ones, not from a wee lass such as yerself."

At his whispered words, I relaxed somewhat, although my nails remained firmly embedded where they were, the pain keeping me on an edge, and awake.

We soon arrived at an encampment of a sorts, a few more horses tethered there, with bedrolls and goodsized cookfire. As we approached, I sensed eyes on us from the side of the road, behind the trees, but no one spoke. Apparently we were expected and invited.

Daniel slid off the horse as we stopped, then reached up to help me down. The night was cooling, and I was starting to shiver slightly in my gown, which had not weathered the last week at all well. I took an involuntary step towards the fire, and then two more, falling on my knees, hands out towards the flame. I sighed in pleasure at the heat. I have since learned the skill of easily lighting a flame, both physically and with magic, but at that time I had little skill in outdoor survival, save knowing what was safe to eat.

"And who is this?"

The voice was strong, and didn't seem to fit the man who spoke. He was taller than myself, and slender as a reed, his face thin and almost pretty. I glanced up at him, searching for any hint to his character. There was none. He walked over to me, dropping down to crouch beside me. His hand grasped my chin and roughly lifted it, inspecting me. I half expected him to pry my mouth open and count my teeth.

"How old are you, child?"

"Eighteen," I promptly lied.

He considered the answer, then seemed to accept it. He inspected my gown, feeling the fabric and noting the filth. "And you come from?"

I shook my head. "I come from nowhere, m'lord."

At my statement, he laughed. "I am no lord, child." His grin was startlingly attractive. "My name is Robin, and although I once was a lord somewhere far from here, I chose to abandon that life. Have you abandoned your own by choice?"

I nodded as strongly as I could. "Yes. I will not go back."

He seemed to regard me for a moment, appraising me. "Then perhaps you need a new life. Have you any skills that could be put to use here?"

I looked around at the men, smelling the rabbit burning on the cookfire. "I can cook, m'lord, and sew and wash clothing. I can tell a story and swing a sword." After a moment's hesitation I added, "And I have been a wife."

He shook his head sharply. "What we need we can find in the villages, Child. You need not supply us with that. But as for the rest, aye, we could use a better cook than Matthew."

Matthew shrugged, and moved aside, letting me see what I could do to rescue the crisped rabbit. I managed to salvage much of the meat, turning the overcooked skin into a meltingly rich treat apart from the rest of the meal. Overall, it was a success. At the end of the meal, Robin turned again to me. "Child," I had come to recognize this as my new name, "you've done well. You may stay."

Over the next month, we traveled. I saw little of the deeds of the men, save the spoils brought in to the camp. One time, a bolt of soft cloth was found in a carriage, and they brought it back to me. I immediately fell upon it, sewing two tunics and a pair of breeches, patterned after those of the men. I had long since tied what was left of my gown into a semblance of breeches to allow myself quicker movement through the forests. Robin approved of my new garments, and from then on, all fabric was brought to me to fashion garments for myself and the men.

There were only eight of them, not including Robin or myself. There was Daniel, the youngest of the troop, with his softly downed baby beard and soemthing that could have been a mustache. He was kindest to me, and in fact I believe he may have been somewhat sweet on me. At the time, I had little thought for romance though, being totally involved in staying alive.

Matthew was the gentle giant. He had frightened me at first, being so much taller than myself, as was his brother Edward. But while Edward was often gruff and rude, Matthew was always kind to me. He and Daniel took it upon themselves to teach me more of the sword, in case I should be left alone at camp and beset.

I spent much of my time training, fighting against Daniel and any others who would take a chance with me, while Matthew coached us. After a time, it appeared I had some skill with the sword, for a surpassed Daniel in ability, and quickly caught up to Matthew. Robin noted this, approaching me.

"You do well, Child," he observed. I had just bested Matthew one more time, and was wiping my brow with cool water.

I glanced up. "Thank you." I looked over to where a stew hung over the cookfire. "Don't worry, I will not neglect my duties as I train."

He smiled. "I would not expect you to. I thought perhaps you were ready for a new partner to spar with."

Robin always spoke more gently than the others, and it was obvious that he had been gently reared, like myself. I didn't answer, merely drew my sword once more in one hand, a dagger in the other, and backed warily away as he drew his own.

The fight was over quickly. I had held my own for a while, but then he finished testing me and showed his true skill, beating me back quickly with his sword, wielded in two hands. At the end of the match, he still seemed impressed. "You have ability, Child. I will continue to work with you." He held his sword out, hilt first, to me. I grasped it firmly in both hands, noting the extra weight, and the strange distribution over my own sword, designed to be held in a single hand. "Since you have the skill, perhaps you should learn some other weapons as well."

And so it went on, until I reached the age I had originally claimed to be. I had not aged in the time I was with Robin, and all merely assumed I had reached my full height and was not going to grow. I was slightly concerned, being that at eighteen one simply does not expect to look exactly as one did at fifteen. And in that time I had worked with Robin, becoming more skilled with a sword until I matched his own skill, as well as learning different types of blades, and some work with a bow and other weapons.

As time passed, I was accepted more as one of Robin's men, and less as the Child they still referred to me as. Robin had given me the name, and it had stuck. And my true name was not one for a camp of rough highwaymen.

I would not have chosen to leave Robin and his men. And certainly not when I did leave.

We were traveling once more near Rye, our first return to that area since they had found me years past. The laird was to have a ball, and we planned to take from many of the carriages traveling that way, until our coffers were full and we escaped to enjoy our pickings. But the night went wrong, and a sword thrust caught Robin near the heart. His men scattered, and as I watched from a nearby perch, Robin's body was torn apart by the traveler's dogs.

I swore then that I would avenge Robin, for he had not been an evil man. True, he had stolen money and valuables. But all this was to stay alive, and anything we did not immediately use was given to the villagers. Oftentimes, this was the only money they ever received from their laird, by way of Robin. I memorized the coat of arms on the carriage, and many years later, I did have my revenge. But not in the way I would have expected.

I returned to Rye once more in my life. And when I returned again, it was during the first Black Plague. I saw the body of Robin's murderer, still with some life in it, and although I had learned much in my travels of ways to ease the pain of death from Plague, I did nothing. I sat and watched him die. I felt it could be no more painful than being eaten by dogs.

Chapter Twelve, Ygg

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