Scarlet
He looked up, and his face changed. “Go downstairs. Much, you stay here.”
Much looked up at me and swallowed. “Jesus, you all right, Scar?”
“Fine, Much.” I smiled at him, and he smiled back. John and Rob, they were the same sort. They thought it were up to them to save the rest of us, and most people looked at them and agreed. People pushed me and Much aside. They thought I couldn’t never do nothing, and they thought Much needed to be coddled on account of his bad arm. “Amy and Mistress are stuck in the Cooper house. Need you to figure a way to get them to Worksop.”
Much nodded. “We’re sending them on to Dover tonight anyway. My aunt can get them work there. Rob, can I go over there now?” he asked.
I scowled. “It ain’t like you need his permission, Much.”
Much’s mouth tucked under, and I felt bad.
“Downstairs, Scar. We need to take care of whatever is cut under all that blood,” Rob said sharp.
I nodded, going down the back stair to the underground storeroom. It were cold down there, and I knew why Rob sent me. Tuck had a big water supply he kept in the cold ground, and I fished the rocks out of it and dried them off. I held one to the side of my head. It felt like ice against the pain.
Rob came down with a candle and I looked at my other hand, the one with the busted knuckles. They were torn open and already swollen. I scowled. My aim would be off.
Rob didn’t say anything. He kept trying to swallow like something were stuck in his pipes while he pressed another rock to my hand. I hissed at the contact. He took a cloth and began to clean off the blood in little dabbing motions.
“It’s not mine,” I told him quick, taking the cloth and wiping the blood off, rubbing at the dried bits even as it scraped at my cuts.
“Some of it is,” he said, his voice low. “Can I take off your hat?”
I bit my lip, chewing on it a moment. Swallowing a breath, I looked down and reached up and pushed it off, pulling my long hair to the side.
My fingers felt something thick and clumpy in my hair, and I frowned and scrubbed at the matted blood with the cloth.
He sighed. “Would you give me that? You’re making it worse. I know how to tend a cut, Scar.”
I glared at him but handed the cloth over. He began dabbing again, but this time at the cut on my cheek, which were fair awful. Even the dabs made my teeth grind.
“Going to tell me what happened?”
“The sheriff’s men went after Amy Cooper. She and her mam came back to their house. One hit Amy.”
Rob looked up, his eyebrow raised. “Is the sheriff’s man still alive?”
“They both are. I cut one behind the knee and the other’s hand. He broke my knife,” I said, bitter.
“So, you punched him?”
I nodded.
“You’re no good for punching, Scar. You could have broken your hand.”
“That’s what John said.”
“I take it he’s at the house, or you wouldn’t have left them.”
I nodded.
He pressed my cheek with the cloth again, and then his hand touched my cheek, hot after the cold water. “I hate seeing you hurt.”
The air whooshed from my chest but I rolled my eyes ’stead of letting on. “No one gets all bent up over John being bruised.”
He stepped back, looking into my eyes. I felt like my eyes were unprotected without my hat.
“Scar, you walked in here covered in blood. You don’t see how that would upset us?”
“No.”
He caught my chin in his fingers. “Like it or not, Scar, we’re your friends. We care about you. I care about you.”
I pulled away from his hand, pushing my knuckles forward.
He tore up strips of old, worn linen and wrapped my knuckles with them, tying them off in my palm.
“We should get back to Little John. If the soldiers come back, he’ll need help.”
Rob nodded. His head were low and he weren’t looking at me. He wiped the stones and put them back in the cold water. “I’m sorry I got you into this, Scar.”
All my rage bubbled up, mixing with the little bit of fear I didn’t want to cop to. I pushed him back, shoving my hat on my head though it stung fierce. “Stop it. You ain’t sorry you got John and Much mixed up in this. You ain’t sorry I’m outta London. It ain’t no tragedy that I bleed, so just let it lie.”
He looked at me with his funny, lopsided grin, like he knew how tough I were and it weren’t half what I wanted it to be. “I’m saying I’m sorry you got hurt, Scar.”
“And I’m telling you I make my own decisions. Including who to fight for and when to get hurt. So let’s go.”
His mouth twitched into a smile. He nodded. We went to the top of the stairs and he gave me a hard look, but without any yap, we went out into the night. It were cold, but we moved pretty fast to the Coopers’. Part of me thought we’d find the house on fire, but John were where I left him, looking out from the side of the house. He were kind of like a big, shadowy gargoyle on a cathedral, keeping the place from demons. It made a shiver run up my spine, but I shook it off. I pretty much think I ended up on the wrong side of God, even if I spent most of my time trying to make up for it.
Much were around the side, and he came over as John came from the shadows and Rob went to the back door. I heard Rob knock and softly speak to the Coopers, and I leaned against the wall.
“Find anything out today, then?” Much asked.
I nodded. “Gisbourne is here but his belongings ain’t. They were going to ship them up the Trent and then bring them down to avoid Sherwood, but they decided to disguise the goods instead. They’re coming up tomorrow, as early as dawn.”
John smiled. “Rob will like that.”
My fingers brushed the empty space where my knife usually sat. I wondered if John would actually fix it. He used to be a blacksmith, so I knew he could. Couldn’t much trust people to do favors for you, no matter if they were strangers or bandmates. I guess I could steal it back if he didn’t fix it.
“Do you know what the disguise is?” Much asked.
“No. I’ll spot it, though.”
John elbowed me. “’Bout the only thing you can trust a thief to do is spot treasure.”
I scowled. “It won’t be any great treasure. Some money, but his belongings foremost.”
“Well, why do we want it?” John said.
“Because it will make him very angry,” Much said. “Which probably isn’t such a good idea.”