Scarlet Page 9


“Just fine. He’s a brave kid,” John replied, slurping up some of his stew.

“Scarlet, I want you to keep an eye on the family. John, you too. I’m trying to get them a place to stay and positions outside of Nottinghamshire, but they’ll have to stay until we can arrange it. We’ll get them to Worksop first thing in the morning, but the sheriff will be looking for blood, so we need to have someone keeping watch.”

“I locked the cell,” I told them. “After he were out, I locked it again.”

Rob grinned. “Ha! They’ll probably think he was small enough to slip out.”

“They hit him, you know. Whipped him, too, reckon, but I didn’t see.” I hadn’t really wanted to know.

“I don’t think they did,” John said, and his voice were softer, like he were trying to make me feel better. I didn’t like it. “I grabbed his back and he didn’t react.”

I nodded but didn’t look up at him.

“Boys, why don’t we patrol the roads today, see what we can stir up. And Scar, I want you to keep an ear out for information.”

“You get more loot when I’m with you,” I reminded. I were good at spotting who had money and where they kept it.

“But we need information more than money until we know what Gisbourne’s about.”

I touched the brim of my hat in his direction.

“And I would like you to eat more of your food.”

“Stop pushing food down my throat, Rob. I eat when I’m hungry.”

He cocked one eyebrow, and I glared at him. I don’t back down. Rob worries. There were times when we first met up that I were awful sick on account of how long I didn’t eat, and he never forgets it. ’Course, I don’t forget it neither, but thinking of it makes things worse. I remember that I’ve gone weeks without eating much, days without eating nothing, and I can survive. I reckon the little Cooper kids couldn’t.

And Rob should understand. He takes the guilt and responsibility that others can’t. John takes the punches. I just take the hunger, and most times it feels like awful little.

“Well, if you’re not hungry, I am,” John said, coming and taking the food away from me. He were doing it to be mean, but I really weren’t hungry, so I let him.

He sat down next to me and ate it noisy. He sat right up against me and pressed his elbow into my side. I hit his arm and he spilled the spoonful down his tunic. “Perfectly good food, Scar.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t sit so close to me.”

He pushed closer, which only made me push against Much. “Didn’t think you’d mind.”

I stood up and slapped his bowl up, spilling it over him. “Didn’t think you liked sitting with rats,” I snapped, stalking off.

“Scarlet!” he roared.

I smirked but kept ambling on. Served him right.

I made a pass through Edwinstowe, keeping my head down but eyes open. The houses were all set off from the central water well, little thatched roof bits with rickety fencing for their chickens, if they were lucky enough to have one or two. There were one or two farmers in Edwinstowe and they kept their livestock in a corral by the well.

I didn’t see any castle guards or any of the sheriff’s men. They were the only ones around here who wore armor, so it made them easy to spot. Lady Thoresby walked the small town as well; she were the wife of Lord Thoresby, who protected the town from the sheriff. He weren’t very good at it, but he did his best.

Lady Thoresby were pretty as far as those things went. So pale and blond, she kind of looked like the sun in the day and the moon after night fell. She were taking her pretty skirts to the Coopers’ house; I wondered if she were fixing to tell Mistress Cooper that her son had escaped the prison. She were kind like that—even if she couldn’t do much, it were a help to warn the family that the sheriff might be coming down on them. It made our job easier too.

She had a guard with her, but he were no threat to the townspeople, so I began to walk toward Nottingham. It weren’t really the right time of day for wagon fare, so I climbed a tree and began to run through the overlapping branches. The trees were old and the branches were decent thick; as long as I ran fast, they bare had time to bend. It were the best way to get around during the day. It didn’t make too much of a clatter neither.

Nottingham were a market town, but the market weren’t as good as Worksop, most because the sheriff just scooped up anyone who were any good and stationed them in the keep. As sheriff, he set the taxes in Nottinghamshire, and it were how his big castle ran itself; they taxed the grain from the farmers, the weapons from the smiths, the cloths from the weavers and dyers, and so on. Sheriff never had nothing what he made himself. He also had a tendency to take the best grain and food as a tax. Showing at Nottingham meant you’d often lose your wares, but some still did it.

I nicked an apple as I went past, leaving a coin in its place. The coin were worth far more than the apple, but that didn’t matter much. I didn’t steal from people who couldn’t afford it, but I also didn’t like to barter neither.

A little girl and her brother were curled on the ground beside their father’s shop, and the whole set looked threadbare and thin. My stomach growled—I were a little hungry for once, not having eaten the yesternight—and I sighed. Without looking at her, I pushed the apple into her hands, sinking back into the crowd before she really saw me.

The gates were open, so I walked right in past the heavy guard. I’m fair good at not being looked at.

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