Robin: Lady of Legend (The Classic Adventures of the Girl Who Became Robin Hood) (41 page)
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Authors: R.M. ArceJaeger
Robin suppressed a smile. Allan hated to travel.
“You will just have to tell other stories,” she said. “I have every confidence in your ability to turn even everyday doings into heroic feats . . . a talent you have aptly and frequently demonstrated.”
“Your doings are far from ordinary, Robin. One day, they will make you legend—with the help of my ballads, of course.”
“Legend?” she laughed. “Really, Allan, you must not tease a lady so. But since I know you will keep composing no matter what I think, just promise me not to embellish your tales
too
much.”
“Only as will please my listeners,” Allan chuckled, running a hand across the strings of his lute.
Robin shrugged, experience having taught her that she would get no better assurance. “Do as you will.”
At that moment, a familiar bellow of laughter reached their ears, and Robin turned to see Little John standing a few yards away, clasping forearms with his brother and attempting to maintain a light-hearted farewell. About to head towards them, she caught a glimpse of the lingering misery on Will Stutley’s face.
“Here,” she said on sudden impulse, unbuckling the silver horn from her waist and holding it out to him. “Will you keep this for me until the day I return?”
Will’s eyes lit up at the entrustment, and he took the trumpet from her hands almost reverently, a broad grin splitting his face.
“Ready?” Little John asked, coming up beside Robin. She nodded.
Marian had already bidden her sister farewell, but she ran up again and threw her arms around Robin’s neck, soaking her tunic with her tears. Will followed his wife at a more sedate pace, but upon reaching them, seized them both in a fervent hug.
“I love you!” Marian cried, letting go of Robin at last.
She was replaced by Darah, who pulled Robin down and clutched her to her bosom like a child of five, all the while issuing advice on court protocol through her tears.
“Enough of that,” Lord Locksley commanded, and Darah reluctantly stepped aside. Father and daughter gazed at each other for a long moment, neither knowing what to say. Then something melted in Lord Locksley’s face, and for a brief instant Robin caught a glimpse of herself in her father’s eyes, surrounded by a golden gloriole of pride.
“God keep you, daughter. Come home to us soon.” He handed Robin her inlaid bow and placed her quiver upon her back, smiling a little as the peacock feathers formed an iridescent halo behind her head. Taking hold of her shoulders, he kissed her on the forehead as he had at their last parting that foggy autumn day, and turned and walked away.
“Now I am ready,” Robin told Little John, her voice thick with emotion. Wrapping one arm around her husband’s waist, she waved a last farewell to her friends and with resolute steps, led the way out of the clearing.
Behind her, the air swelled with the sweet, clear sound of a trumpet, filling the hollow space that grew in her heart as her feet carried her further away from the place that had come to be . . . would always be . . . home.
A soft
fwoosh
marked the course of two arrows as they passed on either side of her and embedded themselves in twin trees twenty paces ahead. Robin turned and saw Shane and Glenneth both raise their bows in salute, while Will Stutley puffed on her horn and the rest of her people waved until she was beyond their sight.
Richard Partington had stabled his horse at the Blue Boar Inn, so rather than turning immediately southward toward London, the small group headed east, crossing the river at the log bridge where Little John had proposed to Robin as the most direct path to the inn. They had barely set foot upon the opposite bank, however, when Robin broke away and dashed down the silty bank toward a nearby knoll, and scrambled up its spongy slope to the top.
For a long moment, Robin just stood there on its apex, gazing out at the Sherwood that had been her sanctuary and protector, her friend and wonder, for the last three years. Hope for what she could achieve in London glowed brightly in her heart, but fear of what could result if the Queen failed in her promise lay upon her like a heavy counterweight. Would she ever see her greenwood home again?
A comforting arm wrapped around her shoulders, and she looked up at Little John; wedding-day joy and parting sadness shone from both their eyes. Neither spoke, but neither had to. Each knew in that moment exactly what the other was feeling.
A small movement at the corner of Robin’s eye drew her attention, and she glanced down the knoll’s steep frontal slope to where the river curved its way through the trees. A royal rack was parting the bushes at the bottom, followed by a russet head and the sturdy body of a Royal stag. Though she and Little John were standing upwind of the deer, Robin saw its head rise in perception and could swear that it stared straight at her, meeting her gaze with the clear recognition of equals.
“Protect them for me,” she murmured to the enduring hart, dipping her chin in a nod of respect. For an instant, she thought that the stag returned her gesture, dipping its noble brow in her direction before bounding into the woodland once more.
“Did you see that?” Little John asked her, startled.
“See what?”
Robin gave Little John a quirky grin, filled with exuberance at the sudden assurance she felt that her people would be all right. Seizing her husband’s hand, she turned away from the green vista and pulled him down the hill, her pace quickening into a run. “Come on!” she cried, laughter spilling from her lips as she gamboled down the knoll, down to where Richard Partington was patiently waiting, down toward the path that would take them to London, and the Queen, and a lifetime of adventure and love—down into the beginning of everything.
THANK YOU FOR READING!
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Thanks!
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
There are many people to whom I owe my sincere gratitude and appreciation, and without whose influence this book would never have come to be. Most especially, I would like to thank:
Mr. Schultz
, who gave me a love for the English language;
Professor Kuenning
, who reminded me of my own worth at a time I really needed it, and whose willingness to extend himself left a lasting impact;
Monika Rose
, and the other members of
Writers Unlimited
, for their unending support and critique;
Bud Hoekstra
and
Antoinette May
, who undertook the task of editing my story—both my book and I are greatly indebted to their insightful comments;
Lou Gonzalez
, for his generous mentorship in the realm of eBook publishing;
and finally,
My
mother
, who possesses a singular ability to find plot holes and inconsistencies, and whose willingness to decimate my story and then help me rebuild it is ultimately responsible for the quality of my book.
With all my thanks,
R.M. ArceJaeger
P.S. I would be extremely remiss if I neglected to extend my appreciation to the late
Howard Pyle
, whose
Merry Adventures of Robin Hood
was my passport to the wonderful world of Robin Hood when I was growing up.
Robin: Lady of Legend
was deliberately written to complement that familiar classic, and although it assuredly stands alone, I did insert certain tidbits as a treat for readers familiar with both works. Furthermore, Pyle’s extensive use of song within his book is an exquisite feature modern works seem to lack, and as a tribute to his lyrical skill, I have included a line from one of his songs in my book. See if you can figure out which one it is!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
R.M. ArceJaeger
is an author, publisher, and computer scientist. In 2005, she was named a California Arts Scholar for excellence in Creative Writing, and she possesses a Bachelor of Science Computer Science degree (with distinction) from Harvey Mudd College. She has been writing books since she was five years old and especially enjoys making her readers rethink classic tales.
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Last Name Pronunciation:
R-C-jay-grr
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rmarcejaeger.com
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AUTHOR’S LIBRARY
Other books by
R.M. ArceJaeger
A Stepmother’s Story: The TRUE Tale of Cinderella
A stimulating short story that weaves the tale of Cinderella from an entirely fresh perspective—the stepmother’s! Learn the truth behind the fairytale at last!
BONUS FEATURES
Visit the Book’s Website:
To gain access to:
Deleted Scenes, Special Contests, Games,
and More!
Also…
Robin Has Her Own Facebook Page!
Come chat with Robin, Little John,
and the rest of the band
(and perhaps the Sheriff, too)!
Table of Contents
Chapter 19: The Language of Flowers
Chapter 20: A Sorrowful Knight
Chapter 21: A Fateful Decision