Scarlet

I picked Walker up like some kind of foundling in Edwinstowe, just nodding at him and starting off down the road.

“So,” he tried. “Leicester, right? That’s what the earl said.”

Didn’t say nothing. Didn’t like that people called Rob “the earl” neither.

He chuckled. “You’re the thief, aren’t you? Can’t reckon you lot like the sunshine much.”

I rolled my eyes. Honestly, I weren’t some demon.

“Not in the mood for a bit of a chin wag?”

I just walked faster. God knows I ain’t comparing myself to no Son of God, but at the moment I might have taken the scourging and thorny crown ’stead of listening to Thom Walker chatter for hours as we walked to Leicester. Just as long as I didn’t have to die at the end. Less I were going to rise again—that puts death in perspective a bit. I reckon even Christ would have been right happy with death if he knew it weren’t such a sticking situation.

We hopped a cart after about two hours of walking, and I shut my eyes for a while, never sleeping in true. I didn’t like someone new so close. Walker didn’t move much, just shifted around. And he stopped chattering.

We rode the cart for a while and then hopped off when the road forked. It were still morning, and the road were fair full, so we faded in. I did, leastways. Walker were big—not so big as John—but none too aware of his own size, and he stuck out like the thumb from your palm.

When we got close to Leicester, I told him to keep away from me, so we could both keep an eye on the other. I told him ’bout hanging back from a fight, and to whistle if something were wrong. He smiled like it were some fun, and not people’s lives, that we were trading for.

The market were packed. Fair taxes and decent landlords made for hardy trade, and the market showed it. There were such wares as I ain’t never seen, clothing and pies and big cuts of meat, knives and swords and all sorts of weapons. I got far too eager at the stall of one seller. Caught by the dark glint of some cheap-made Saracen metal, I went closer, and I saw what I’d been looking for, the weapon that would be perfect for Much and none other.

My fingers twined toward it of their own accord, and the man, a brawny blacksmith with shoulders like a tree trunk stretched across, smiled. “A kattari,” he said. “From the East—a very rare and unique weapon.”

I picked it up. The bottom bit were like an H, with a crossbar to hold on to and a shield for your knuckles. Just above the crossbar the blade started, wide as a man’s palm and near as long as his forearm, tapering quick to a blade almost like a triangle. Without a moment’s thought, I pulled out my two Saracen knives.

“A trade,” I offered.

He scoffed. “Cheap imitations are nothing compared to a kattari.”

“They’re real. With rubies.”

“Paste,” he insisted.

I withdrew my arm. “Fine, then. I’ll sell them elsewhere.”

He jerked forward, dislodging some blades on his table and letting them clatter. “An even trade, then.”

I smiled and nodded. It weren’t quite even, but I didn’t mind for Much, and he wrapped the kattari in burlap and made the trade.

Once away, I tucked the covered blade into my vest and went looking next for a new hat. There were some caps, and I swiped a felted wool one that were cheap and funny shaped. I didn’t leave money behind; after all, I were a thief and it weren’t like these sort were hurting like they were in Nottinghamshire. I tucked it in my vest too and sought out the jewelers.

Leicester had three jewelers: one who dealt with metals, one for precious jewels, and one who, it seemed, worked only for nobility. All the same, the three men were buying, and it weren’t hard to get a good price like that. I just went back and forth, working till I got a good high price, three times what we were bartering for in Newark.

When I were getting paid at last, I saw the shadow inching to the side of the door, waiting for me to come out. I looked sharp; where were Walker? I didn’t see him straight off, but I had to get out of there before I could find him.

It were the jeweler who worked for nobles that I happened to be at, and so, a touch shameless, I lowered my hood so the jeweler could see my mug and the twist of my hair. “Please,” I whispered. “Please help me.”

His eyes went big. “Holy Mary, you’re a lass,” he said.

I lifted my chin. “A lady,” I insisted. “Please, you must help. There are men outside, trying to take me back to my lord husband. He’ll kill me,” I told him. My eyes even went a bit watery.

“Yer husband? I don’t cross a nobleman, not even for a ladyship.”

“He’ll kill me,” I said again. I put my hand on his arm. “You must have a back way out? Just pretend I ran past you, let me go, and you needn’t cross anyone. Please.” I met his eyes, showing him the full oddity of my eyes. “I’ve had to sell my jewels; don’t trade them for my life.”

He sighed, and he jerked his thumb over his shoulder. I took the pouch of money, pulled up my hood, and bolted.

His workshop led to a small bellows room and heating pit, and there were a big back door from there that led to a small space with a horse in it. I gave the horse a look, tempted.

I climbed up the roof ’stead. Leaning on the crossbeams, I looked down.

Swallowing swears, I spotted three men and maybe a fourth trolling the market. How had Gisbourne’s men found us again? He must be following me somehow. I were the only person at both places. ’Less the others had been followed too.

Walker were still in the market, staring after sweetbreads, full blind to the danger. Some lookabout he were. I hopped over a few roofs and dropped into the market, grabbing his arm and pushing him out.

Running, I slid through the crowd. I were fair good at slipping away, but Thom weren’t. He kept stopping and starting and bumping people, saying excuses to them too loud.

“Damn it!” I growled, flipping a knife at him and turning, meeting his eyes head on. He halted. “Shut your yap, follow me, and run, or I’m going to leave you here, and you can fend off Gisbourne.”

He swallowed. “I’m coming.”

I nodded, holstering my knife and running.

Chapter Thirteen

We ran to Edwinstowe, and once I got Thom Walker safe and looked after, I ran to the cave with my loot, taking a long loop round Thoresby Lake so no one followed me. Couldn’t risk it. There were some way they were tracking us, that were damn sure, but now we had bare hours left before the sheriff’s men came collecting in the morning, and lots of money to parcel out before then.