Robyn and the Hoodettes (11 page)

Bella made herself immediately at home and slumped into
another corner, chewing her cud.

Wilfred dipped a rag into the water bucket–Robyn hoped it
was filled with water–and sloshed it onto his face. “Oh, that’s
better,” he half-moaned as he sat on the floor and leaned against
the wall.

“
This is great, I don’t know what you’re worried about.” Robyn
rested against Bella’s soft belly. The cow gave a moan of annoyance
but didn’t make any effort to throw Robyn away. She was so warm and
soft, and the rise and fall of her ample stomach had a soothing
effect. The familiar smells of the cow reminded her or
home.

Which set off a pang of homesickness.

Would Loxley ever be the same again?

“
Shove over,” Marion said, moving in beside Robyn to share the
warmth.

“
Mmmmfff.” Robyn wanted to object about the way Marion put his
arm around her and snuggled in. But the cot bed in the corner was
already full. Plus, the floor was hard and would grow colder as the
night wore on. And for some reason having Marion’s arm around her
felt . . . kind of right.

And it would be the height of rudeness to keep the cow all
to herself.

CHAPTER SEVEN

In the morning, Robyn’s head thumped on the floor as Bella
got to her feet. She picked straw from her hair and rubbed her
eyes. The words “Where are we?” formed in her head just as Marion
stretched and said, “Best sleep-out ever.”

The others woke and commented about how rested they
felt.

Wilfred, whose scarlet face had settled during the night to
reveal a moderately handsome lad with a constellation of freckles
over his cheeks and nose, looked at them all with a puzzled
expression. “You’re quite sure?”

A chorus of ‘yeses’ filled the room. Wilfred shrugged and
shook his head in wonder.

“
I’m starving.” Robyn stretched again. “And I need the
privies.”

After they’d found the right places to relieve themselves,
they made their way to the front room where the innkeeper presented
them with warm bread and weak ale.

“
You’ll be having milk,” Eleanor said as she gathered their
empty tankards and dunked them in a bucket she’d carried in with
her. “There’s not as much today. All that walking must have dried
Bella up. I’ve put her on the village green so she can get a good
feed and plenty of rest to be back to her best.”

“
This bread is so soft,” Robyn said, ripping a chunk off the
loaf and dipping it in her milk. She had to lunge for it before the
sodden mush fell back in. Joan wasn’t fast enough; her chunk
dropped into her tankard with a messy plop.

Eleanor tried the bread on its own. “It’s so tender you don’t
even need to dunk it. How do they do that?”

“
This place is amazing, Will,” Robyn said.

He boggled. “But we didn’t even stay in a proper room, they
put us in the shepherd’s lodgings because of the cow.”

“
You mean they have rooms without any animals at all?” Robyn
couldn’t believe it when Will nodded. “Then how do they stay
warm?”

Will shook his head. “You’re weird.”

“
Would someone pass the honey please,” Ellen said from her end
of the table.

Robyn dunked her crust in the bowl before handing it over to
Ellen, who proceeded to put a golden dollop into her
milk.

“
What a great idea,” Joan said, taking the honey from Ellen and
copying her.

Robyn achieved the same effect by eating her honeyed crust and
then slurping milk at the same time, sloshing it around in her
mouth.

The fresh bread and warm milk filled Robyn’s belly, while the
sweet honey sent sparks of energy through her. Buzzing filled her
limbs and she had a sudden desire to climb a tree and swing from
the branches.

“
Right, what’s our plan?” Marion said to Robyn as the last
chunks of bread disappeared.

“
We find our villagers and give them the . . .” Robyn dropped
her voice low “. . . gold.”

“
Then what?” Marion asked.

Robyn felt her face crinkle in confusion. “Then they can buy
enough stuff to go back and rebuild of course.”

“
And then what?”

Confusion irritated Robyn. “I don’t know. I’m not in charge of
them. They can do whatever they want. Stop criticizing
me.”

“
I’m not having a go at you.” Marion put his palms up in
surrender. “I’m just concerned that if they go back and rebuild
straight away, Roger and his lot could very easily turn up and
steal things all over again.”

The unspoken part of his sentence hung between them. Roger
and his lot could set fire to everything all over again
too.

At the end of the table, Ellen coughed her milk back. With all
eyes on her, she dabbed a sleeve at her mouth and spluttered.
“Sorry, a bit went down the wrong way.”

Keeping her voice low, Robyn turned to Marion again. “You’re
saying we shouldn’t give them . . .” dropping to a whisper again “.
. . the gold.”

“
Of course we give them . . .
that
. But we’ve got to find them first, and when we
do, maybe it’s best if they stay here for a while.”

“
But this is Roger’s base!” The words came out too loudly.
People at a nearby table gave her strange looks. She lowered her
voice again. “Wouldn’t they want to get as far away from him as
possible?”

“
Yes but they’ll be sitting ducks if they go back. There are
hundreds of people here in Sheffield, they’ll blend in with the
crowd. And they can stay warm here through the winter.”

“
Then what’s to become of Loxley?” And for a pitifully selfish
moment, Robyn also wondered what would become of her. She wanted to
go back home and make everything normal again. Well, it wouldn’t be
completely normal until her father came back, but she’d take what
she could get for now.

“
Loxley can wait until spring,” Marion said. “It’s not going
anywhere.”

“
What about . . .” Robyn dug about in her mental basement,
looking for reasons to return to Loxley and rebuild. “What about
the crops we’ve worked so hard to get in the ground.
Twice!”

“
They’ll either be there or they won’t. Us returning to Loxley
won’t make them grow any faster.”

Confusion swirled through Robyn as she ate the last of her
bread. Surely once they found their villagers, they’d all want to
go home? Why couldn’t Marion accept that?

A new thought hit her in the belly. “You’re not going back,
are you? You want to join the Crusade.”

“
It’s every man’s duty to follow his King into
battle.”

“
But your mother forbids it!”

“
My mother isn’t here.”

“
Yes she is . . . somewhere in Sheffield. I’m going to find
her. And everyone else. And then we are all going home.”

***

“I’ll stay with Bella on the green,” Eleanor said as they
left
The
Unicorn
.

“
You could sell her milk while you’re here,” Ellen said. “Best
drink I’ve ever had.”

Eleanor’s face lit up. “Good idea. I wonder if the inn will
sell us some honey to go with it?”

At least her mother was happy, so that was one less person
for Robyn to worry about. Still, it didn’t sit right to leave
Eleanor here in the village green, all alone with a valuable cow.
“Ellen, stay here with Mother Eleanor and Bella, will
you?”

“
But, I want to come with you.”

“
I could stay,” Joan suggested.

No, Joan would scare the customers. Anyway, they might need
her later for smashing duties. Wilfred was their guide, so he
couldn’t stay behind. And Marion . . . well, he’d charge off and
join the Crusade the moment her back was turned.

“
How well do you know Sheffield?” Marion asked
Ellen.

Which was the question Robyn was going to ask, she really
was.

“
Em. You’ve got a point there,” Ellen said. “Not very
well.”

Mentally, Robyn waited for Ellen’s usual ‘to be honest’
ending, but it didn’t come.

“
OK, that’s settled. Ellen, it’s best you stay here with Mother
Eleanor and the cow. Will? Lead on.”

In comparison to Littleton, Loxley had seemed a busy place.
But now they were in Sheffield, Robyn realized how small her small
home town had been. On this cool autumn morning, Sheffield
positively heaved. There had to be two thousand people here at
least.

How would they find their villagers in such a massive
crowd?

“
What’s your plan?” Marion said as they began their walk down
one of the bustling streets.

Sarcasm at the ready, Robyn said, “The plan is to wander
around aimlessly until we’re hungry and lost.”

“
You know what I mean.”

Robyn walked faster, her hand over the purse of gold to
stop it jingling. “I don’t think it takes much planning to find the
rest of Loxley, share the coins and get out of here.”

“
It’s just that ‘Get out of here’ is hardly an exit
strategy.”

This time Robyn pulled up short.

“
Don’t roll your eyes at me,” Marion said.

“
I’m not ro–” Whoops; she was rolling her eyes. She focused
every muscle in her face to make sure she didn’t roll them again
and said, “We’re helping our villagers, yes? Then we rebuild. Is
that enough of a plan for you?”

“
Sure it’s a start but–”

Robyn didn’t hear the rest of what Marion said as she
stomped forward. The boy was driving her to distraction. He’d never
been this bossy towards her before.

Their whole lives had been one season after another, one
predictable event after another.
Until Roger of Doncaster had come to their
town, they’d left all the thinking and planning to the
elders.

Now they were separated from the wiser heads of the village,
they had to do all the thinking and forward planning themselves. It
was exhausting.

Behind her, she heard the heavy footsteps that could only
belong to Joan.

“
Go easy on Marion, he’s trying to help,” she said.

“
He’s trying my patience,” Robyn shot back.

“
Yeah but it doesn’t hurt to stop and think every now and
again, he’s only–”

“–
We don’t have time to stop and think!” Sick guilt lurched
through Robyn as she heard how nasty she sounded to her friend.
“I’m sorry. I really am. But we can’t stay in Sheffield, and
neither can the rest of Loxley. If we stay, Roger and his gang will
return. It’s only a matter of time before we cross paths
again.”

“
But he’s not looking for us, is he? He’s looking for a band of
men. That’s why he pushed us out the way at the gate.”

“
We got lucky.” Robyn kept up her punishing pace, her breath
coming out as harshly as her words. All the while she kept looking
at the faces in the street for someone familiar. “Roger didn’t
recognize us because he was in a hurry to leave.”

Joan’s heavy hand thumped down on Robyn’s shoulder, bringing
them both to a staggering halt. “And where do you think Roger was
off to in such a rush?”

“
I don’t know and I don’t care. Look, Joan, we don’t have time
to stand here arguing, we need to keep looking. Our people have to
be here somewhere.”

On they went, down the laneways between the higgle-piggle
houses and animal pens, trying to find someone they
knew.

In a petulant voice, Joan said, “I don’t like
arguing.”

“
Neither do I.” Robyn felt awful about how this was turning
out. “I am sorry. I really am. Anyway, we weren’t arguing. We were
only having a loud conversa–Madge? Is that you?”

The girl in question–Madge the Miller’s daughter–was mucking
out a sheep pen. She dropped her pitchfork at the sound of her
name. A smile split her face. “Robyn! And Joan! And Marion! And . .
. hello, new person!” At which point her smiling face turned bright
red, almost as red as Wilfred’s had been in reaction to being near
a horse.

Madge filled Robyn in on how everyone in the village had
fared since their eviction from Loxley.

In a word: miserably.

The sky above them looked like it was about to turn miserable
as well. Thank goodness they had a sheep pen to huddle
beneath.

“
I am so glad to see you, I can’t tell you how crazy things
are,” Madge babbled. “It’s only me and Grannyma and Tuppence. We’ve
eaten nought but turnips since we left Loxley, although we’ve given
sheep milk to the babby. Not that Tuppence is a babby any more,
have you seen the teeth on him? Milk won’t be enough for him for
much longer.”

Guilt rained on Robyn like the drops falling from the sky.
This morning they’d had the softest bread in the world, dipped in
honey, to break their fast. As Robyn checked her pockets to see if
she had any food to offer, Marion stepped forward and produced the
end a loaf. Madge fell upon it as Grannyma came back from milking
one of the ewes.