Rob nodded. “Well, he could have done worse. We’re prepared for worse. Just tell the townspeople that we’ll get them food; they can’t risk it themselves.”

“I don’t think it helps,” Much said. “They all know if they get caught, we’ll get them out, so they try it anyway.”

“Then tell them Gisbourne intends to kill them on sight,” Rob said. “Because I’m sure that’s what he really has in mind anyway.”

I nodded. “He’s every kind of awful.”

“Which also means for the next few days, we all will be hunting and patrolling the forest in pairs, then scaring up the roads in the morning.” He sighed, and his shoulders bent a little, like someone were shoving down hard. “We can sell the furs, at least.”

“And antlers,” I added.

He nodded. “If anyone’s not up to doubling their time over, say it now.”

We all were silent.

“Good. Stay sharp. We can’t afford mistakes right now. Scar, since you and I are the hunters, I’ll take John and you take Much.”

Everyone stopped at this.

“That’s foolish. I’ll go with Scar,” John said. Rob’s face turned stormy, but John continued. “Rob, I’m no hunter, but if she runs amok of Gisbourne’s men, I’ll be more help than Much.” Much frowned, and John shrugged. “Sorry, Much.”

Much sighed. “He’s right. We’re the scrawny ones, Scar.”

“But we both have our uses,” I reminded.

“Fine,” Rob said, his teeth gritted. “John, go with Scar.”

I waited for John to make some rub about going with me, but he didn’t. Who knew it took retching for a lug like him to be friend-like? Not that I expected it to last long, mind.

“Should we go now?” Much asked.

“Would you two wait outside for a moment?” Rob asked, nodding to John and Much. “Can we talk, Scar?”

I didn’t nod, but I didn’t leave neither. I let John out from the bench and leaned against the wall, crossing my arms and looking down. He leaned against the opposite wall, looking at me. “What should I be doing for you, Scar? Honestly.”

“Doing?” I repeated.

“When we left London, you weren’t eating, and I tried so hard to get you to eat more. For years now I thought it was working. I thought you were eating just fine. But you’re not, and I don’t know what to do for you.” He raked his hand over his hair, and it went every which way in his wake. “You scare me,” he said. “Thinking of you hurting scares me. So I have to do something. And you need to tell me what it is, because obviously what I was doing before wasn’t right.”

“I don’t know,” I murmured.

“You don’t eat.”

My mug felt hot. “I don’t need much. After London, it were always fair hard to eat much. Having none for so long weren’t easy. And now that I do, there are other people that need it more.”

“Why didn’t you eat in London? You’re one of the best thieves I’ve ever met. You could have stolen your body weight in food.”

A scoff jumped out of my throat. “I were barely a thief then. Besides, there were other people that needed it there too.”

“Was there a person in London you were stealing food for?”

“We’re honest with each other, right, Rob?”

He nodded.

“Then don’t make me answer that.”

He looked at me for a long time, and I wouldn’t clap eyes on him. “So what can I do, then?”

“It’s life, Rob. Nothing to be done.”

“Make no mistake,” he told me. I looked up. “We do what we do—” He halted, then stepped one foot closer. “I do what I do because I will always believe that no matter how awful life gets for however many of these people, there is something I can do about it. There is something I will do about it.”

I nodded. “That’s why you’re the hero, Rob, and I’m a thief.”

I turned out the back way then; there weren’t much more to say.

He caught my wrist before I were full out the door. “Scar,” he said, rough, like rocks were running over his tongue. “I have done so many unforgivable things in my life. Don’t let failing to save you be another.”

I pulled my hand away. “I never asked to be saved!”

That were enough. I went outside, eager for the cold on my hot cheeks.

John and I stayed quiet that first night. I weren’t much in the mood for chat, and he had to listen for game as best he could anyway. I stayed high in a tree for most of the night; I caught more moonlight up there and I could see farther, so I could aim better when I saw a deer. I were better on the ground with knives, of course, but in the sky I didn’t mind using a bow. I were fair decent with it; none so good as Rob, but I managed. I killed two, and John dressed both. I didn’t like that part, seeing all the inner bits come out. I always think how easy it would be for someone to slit my belly and watch all my inner bits slide out.

We took them back to the cave, and John and Much set to skinning them and cutting the meat. I watched, sharpening my knives and unstringing my bow. I never liked hunting. Well, I liked hunting right fair, but I didn’t like blood. So much of it had to come from an animal to feed a town, and it felt strange to me.

This, more than stealing baubles, were what made us thieves, and outlaws, and all the names the sheriff called us. Sherwood were the king’s forest, a protected land that were meant to be his hunting grounds. But England were a country without a king. King Richard, him they called the Lionheart, had taken his lion paws over to the Holy Land. He were off fighting infidels while his people—while my people—starved. There wouldn’t be no game left for hunting when Richard returned. ’Stead of deer, England would be full up of wolves, the biggest among them Prince John.