Scarlet

He nodded, like he got why I just blurted that out. Which must have been fair hard, since I didn’t know, myself. His ears were red and his jaw were clenched, but he nodded again and turned away from me, walking deeper into the forest.

I turned back to the cave. I couldn’t go back to sleep, but it were right enough; it were Sunday, the Lord’s day, and I went deep into the cave, looking for the small parcel I tried to keep hidden.

Staying in the darker bits, and watching John and Much, I changed quick into the gown, untwining the muslin that I used to pin my bits back. Couldn’t very well be running for your hide with bits jiggling all over the place, could you? I combed through my hair, tying it out of the way, and pulled on the hooded ladies’ cloak. Looking very much like a girl, I went out of the cave.

I know it’s fair strange for a girl who turned her back on the wishes of her father and mother (fourth commandment) and steals (seventh commandment) and lies a fair amount (eighth commandment) and even killed a body (fifth commandment) to feel so particular about going to church. But I went every Sunday I could, and I figured that, black as my soul were already, the one person I shouldn’t be making falsehoods to is God—and most times, that’s what wearing my usual clothes felt like. Besides, I couldn’t wear a hat in church, and I couldn’t very well wear my hair down and look like Will Scarlet—that way were faster than wildfire for trouble.

There were a small little abbey in the middle of Sherwood run by the Franciscan friars (it’s where Tuck got the name for his house), and they always let me come in to their masses and confess to their priest. They weren’t much popular with the local folk, but that suited me just fine.

“My dear lady,” Brother Benedict greeted. He and I were friends, I think. I handed him some money I had collected that week, and he pressed it to his chest, treasure-like. “As always, your generosity astounds me.”

I looked down. “Well, you know how I come by it,” I reminded.

“Come, daughter, and walk with me before the Mass.”

I nodded, and we walked over to the animal yards. The Franciscans loved their animals dear, and they had the oddest collection in the shire. A spaniel that favored Benedict bounded over to me, leading a baby duck and three kittens like a piper. “Gisbourne is here,” I told him.

“Ah,” he said.

“He’s going to make it worse. He’ll kill people. He’ll gouge their hearts out to get what he wants.”

“Is it you he wants?”

“If there’s such a list, I’m more than like on it. He doesn’t know I’m here yet.”

“And can you stop any of this bloodshed?”

“Yes. We’ll stop as much as we can. We protect our people.”

“And if you turned yourself over to him?”

I shook my head. “I can’t. It wouldn’t stop him, and it won’t help me any.” My mug filled with shame, and I searched the sky. “Besides, I reckon he’d kill me.”

“You and your fellows are charged with a most difficult task, my lady. You protect the people, and no one will imagine it to be easy for you, or your souls.”

“I killed a man, Brother,” I told him. “Yesterday. He attacked me.”

He sighed. “These are strange days. I’ve said to you before that if there were any time the Lord might forgive our darkest transgressions, it may well be these equally dark times, but we both know the peril your soul is in.”

I nodded. “I don’t have much hope for my soul.”

“You’ve sinned, my lady, but if anyone ever did it for the right reasons, it’s you and your fellows. It will be for God to judge such a tangled web, not I.” He touched my hand. “And as for Gisbourne, stay far away from him. If he knows you are near, he won’t stop until he possesses you. We would all be loath to see that happen.”

I bent and let the spaniel lick my hand.

“Come. You must pray, and confess, and cleanse your soul if you have any hope to defend its righteousness.”

I nodded and let him lead me back to the small chapel. I started to move toward the back, but he tugged me frontward.

“A lady of your caliber does not sit in the back, my dear.”

Chapter Six

I walked back to the cave, feeling jittery with every step. I didn’t like looking like a girl, and without my knives—you certain can’t bring knives to church—I rather felt like a girl. If I came ’cross a guard, I wouldn’t have much of a chance. And worse, I weren’t sure if the lads would be back at the cave or off and about. Robin never went to masses since he came back from the Crusades, but he still seemed to feel like Sundays were for reckoning anyway, and he were fair hard to find come Sunday mornings. John and Much tended to go over to Worksop to go to church with Much’s father, and it were passing rare for us to be at the cave instead of the oak. I never had to risk them seeing me in a dress before, but with all the muck about the tree burning and such, I knew Robin wanted us sticking together; I just weren’t sure where they would be.

I got back to the cave and halted as I saw Much and John talking to each other. They stopped and turned to me.

Much looked confused, and John stepped forward. “Wait . . . Scar?”

My mug got hot. “Stop gawping, John. Let me pass.”

“I’ll tell you one thing, Scar—Miss Percy wouldn’t be after you in that getup.”

I scowled at him.

“Where’d you get that dress? And when’d you start filling it out?” John asked, following me into the cave.

“Bugger off,” I told him.

He didn’t; he kept coming closer. “You look good in a dress.”

“Go, John.”

He grinned at me and turned, going back out to the front of the cave. I didn’t like his eyes on me like that.

I changed quick as I could, sliding the dress back into my hiding place and going out front to the lads. I sat on the ground and tucked my legs up.

“I could get used to you in a dress,” John told me.

“Don’t.”

“You looked nice,” Much told me.

“Thanks, Much,” I said, even though I didn’t really want him thinking I looked any which way. Better him than John, though.

“So where were you going in a dress? Meeting someone?” John asked.

“Leave off, John,” I said, scowling.

“Can’t. Who were you meeting?”

I stared at him.