Scarlet

The crackling of wood under fire brought Scarlet out of his slumber. The outlaw pushed himself into a sitting position, his wearing eyes glancing to the empty spot on his left. Once again he had come awake in a damp cave without a lover by his side. Before he had taken to Sherwood, he would have complained each morning that he had gone to be alone. Here in the forest, not a soul did a thing alone, not even take a piss. A part of him missed the days before the Sheriff of Nottingham had put a price on his head as the jolly laughter of Little John echoed in his direction. No matter how the giant of a man laughed, no one could call it anything else besides jolly. Robin’s right-hand man could make the gloomiest person happy again just by laughing, Scarlet was certain of it.

As he tried to yawn away the sleep from his body, how much he regretted the life he lived now crept to the front of his mind. He once had a warm bed to sleep in, regular visitors to his bed, people who could openly admit to being his family –the list went on. The longer he lingered under this piece of cloth that pretended to be a blanket, the more his past would tug at him, beg him to go home. He had heard enough horror stories from his fellow outlaws to know a dungeon was not a place he wanted to be, not even to visit. If he set even one foot back in his parents’ village, a gang of thugs would have him tied up in a rundown barn while another of their numbers ran to fetch the Sheriff and reward for his capture.

Scarlet cursed under his breath as he pushed him into a standing position to join the others by the fire. Perhaps Marian’s gentle hands would offer him a plate of day-old food, he thought. He pushed his aching feet into his worn-out boots and shuffled from his bedding to the fire. Another yawn escaped his lips as he dropped down opposite Robin.

Hood let out a chuckle as he grinned. “Look who finally decided to join us,” the man teased.

“Oh shut up,” Scarlet shot back with a grin on his lips.

How often did Robin Hood need to remind his supposedly “merry men” that he was the only one among them who always woke up with his lover next to him? Whose praises did the Lady Marian sing every time they returned from a successful mission? Scarlet snorted. The question didn’t need an answer. It also made him wonder how anyone who envied a man so much could also follow him to the ends of the earth. By God, Scarlet would die for Robin Hood –there was no use denying it.

Robin had rescued him from certain doom just by welcoming him into his camp. Scarlet knew his master smuggled coin to all the families of the outlaws in Sherwood, even his. That help would assistance would end the moment anyone abandoned their place in camp. He had seen it happen far too many times since he had joined their numbers.

A benefit of being in their master’s inner circle, Marian delivered him a small bowl of leftover stew. At his mother’s table, he had always complained when she forced him to eat last night’s dinner for the morning meal. Marian refusing to serve him the morning after he had voiced that complaint had ended the discourtesy on his part. Anything he could do to please Marian.

Scarlet cursed himself under his breath for desiring Robin’s beloved. He took some solace in that nearly every man in Robin’s gang had desires for Marian. She was beautiful. Unlike so many other women in their world, she did not hide her hair behind a wimple; she let her long brown hair flow down her shoulders. He could stare at her forever if he didn’t need to scout the Great North Road for their next victim. The poor would have no way to feed their families or pay their taxes if he didn’t.

“Will,” Robin said to him. “The lad Much will join you scouting today, if that wouldn’t bother you.”

“Of course, it won’t, Hood,” Scarlet answered. “I am tired of complaining the lad needs to start pulling his weight around here.”

Robin let out a soft chuckle and nodded before he came to his feet. Both Little John and Marian followed him into the depths of the cave where they kept their private treasury hidden. If he had not been assigned to go scouting today, he would have joined the three of them. Sometimes the minstrel Alan joined them, but the young man had taken the chance to visit that girl he was courting in the nearest village.

“Lucky bastard,” he whispered under his breath before he inhaled every last bite of food in his bowl. He tossed the food vessel aside as he swallowed the last piece of meat. Scarlet came to his feet as Much eagerly came to his side both their weapons in their hands. “Next time, lad, let a man get his own weapons.”

He guided the young man out of the cave and through the makeshift campsites outside the cave. Children raced down the paths pretending to be Robin Hood and his merry men as they robbed the greedy clergyman. A lad or two had a scarlet-colored scrap of fabric over their shoulders. Scarlet shook his head. What had he done to deserve such admiration from a child? Who was he to deserve it? He thanked God none of the children stopped him for a few words or a demonstration like they did with Robin. He loathed the day that happened. A few breaths later, they slipped into the forest that hid their camp from view heading towards the Great North Road.

“Do you think some child will pretend to be me someday, Will?” Much asked.

Scarlet laughed. “I can see them carrying around a bag of flour to let everyone know it’s you.”

Behind him, the lad snorted but he kept quiet as they pressed further into the forest from the camp. Something else he could thank God for, Scarlet thought, as the silence continued. Not even the howls of wolves disrupted their mission. Scarlet had never known Sherwood to be so eerily quiet. He frowned and raised a hand up to let Much know they needed to slow their movements, to be as silent as they could be.

A few strides from the Road, Scarlet stopped midstride to the sound of a neighing horse. Another time he would have grinned. A horse normally meant they had another victim to rob. A chorus of other horses soon followed. Behind him, the lad giggled. Scarlet quickly hushed him.

“That’s no echo,” he scolded in a whisper. “No, that’s an army.”

Scarlet turned back to see the lad’s face pale. “Stay here.” Much nodded as he turned away and crept a few steps closer to the road. He found a perch where he could remain hidden and still look on the dirt below. He kept his movements slow. What he learned here would not do Robin any good if he were caught. Was the lad smart enough to run back to Robin with the news? He found his sending a prayer to God and every single one of His angels that the boy had enough sense to go back. Pushing thoughts of Much the Miller’s son out of his mind, Scarlet twisted his head enough to spy on the travelers on the road below.

He whispered a curse at the column he saw traversing the Road. That had to be an entire army! Scarlet retreated back to Much and commanded the lad to follow him along the road. He would have preferred to leave the boy where he was, but Will couldn’t send a detailed message back to Robin if there was a great distance between the scouts. With as much haste as they both could muster, they raced towards the front of the army, stopping as rarely as possible so Scarlet could spy on the men, to catch a closer glimpse of their livery and their weapons. Not one of them wore the same set of colors, causing Scarlet to curse under his breath. Only the Sheriff of Nottingham was known to gather around him such a mismatched group of men around him.

An eternity later, they reached the head of the line. Scarlet forced Much to climb into a tree while he ventured closer to the Road to catch a glimpse of who led this army. Another curse fell off his lips when he set his eyes upon the familiar face of the Sheriff of Nottingham. He retraced his steps back towards his companion, recounting to the lad what he had seen.

“Head back to Robin, lad,” he commanded in a low voice. “Tell him what I’ve just told you.”

“What will you do?” Much asked. “Nothing stupid, I hope.”

Scarlet chuckled. “You’ve been listening to too many of Alan’s stories. Now go!”

His eyes followed the lad as Much vanished back towards Robin’s camp. With the boy safely out of sight, he returned to trailing the Sheriff and his army. With every opportunity, he glanced back towards Robin’s caves. When they stopped to rest their horses, Scarlet stopped alongside them, coming as close to them as he dared. 

“Do you know where we’re going, Gisbourne?” the Sheriff asked.

Scarlet let out a curse at the sound of that name. What had they done to deserve to know a traitor like him? Every foul name he could think of to call their former friend entered his thoughts. Scarlet pulled his sword out of its sheath as his eyes took one last glance towards the caves. He would die for Robin Hood. And if he could take down Sir Guy of Gisbourne down with him, that would be glorious.