Robyn and the Hoodettes (26 page)

Being the confusing person she was, Maudlin placed the tray on
the floor instead of on the table. Robyn’s mouth watered in
response.

“
Doing a little reading were you?” Maudlin reached for the
books on the table and replaced them on the shelf.

Not going to answer that
.

All things considered, Robyn hadn’t slept too badly. The
table was on par with the cold ground under the carriage.
Uncomfortable and
hard, but at least she didn’t clonk her head when she sat
up.

Involuntarily, she licked her lips as the aromas on the
breakfast tray reached her.

“
Are you hungry?” Maudlin mocked her. “You’re lucky there
was any porridge to spare. We have so many more people seeking
shelter with us, and we don’t have much left to see us through
winter,” her eyes narrowed, “as somebody stole all the bags of oats
we had.” Then her tone immediately changed to something far more
pleasant. “The mug is hot cider. Would you like some?”

Instantly Robyn said, “Yes.” She’d be able to think better on
a full stomach and a drink. Whatever hot cider was.

Maudlin made no effort to put the tray closer to Robyn, so
she climbed off the table and moved closer to the tray. A sarcastic
response nearly leapt out as she noticed there was no spoon. She’d
make do then, picking up the bowl with one hand and shovelling the
porridge in with her fingers.

Maudlin tutted and said, “Such terrible table manners. Any
wonder your mother prefers the cow.”

Tease me all you want, abuse me, I don’t care.
Who had time to
speak when the hot porridge warmed her from within? It was thick
and filling and creamy and quite simply the best meal she’d had in
ages. OK, maybe the second best, because the devilfish Ellen had
made for them was the number one all time greatest. But this came
an incredibly close second.

“
Would you like more?” Maudlin asked.

“
Is there?”

“
No there is not.”

She was toying with her, trying to make her angry. But the
warm oats in her belly chased the unease away. Next she sipped the
tankard of hot cider. It tasted like heaven. The rich smell of
apples, the warmth of the liquid, the soft bubbles on her tongue .
. . it nearly brought her undone. Slurp, slurp, she sucked it
in.

“
My, my,” Maudlin said, “Who would have thought you’d be so
entertaining?”

Robyn gave up trying to work out what Maudlin was trying to
achieve and drained her tankard of cider.

A burp leapt out.

Robyn giggled.

Maybe it was the food, most likely it was the cider, but she
curled up on the floor and fell asleep.

***

Somebody nudged her awake. It was Maudlin. Or, more
accurately, Maudlin’s booted foot.

And she was kicking rather than nudging.

Muscles burned as Robyn righted herself. The porridge she’d
eaten had migrated into her brain.

“
The Earl of Derby’s on his way.” That manic gleam in her
eye–and the jackdaw’s–was back. “Tell me everything, and I might be
able to convince him to spare you.”

Confused and barely awake, Robyn’s mouth filled with ash as
she spoke. “What?”

“
Pardon!” Maudlin corrected her.

“
Pardon?” Robyn croaked. Seriously, not a drop of moisture
to spare, she couldn’t even lick her lips. And her eyes were so
crusted with gunk she could barely open them properly. What the
heck was in that porridge?

M
aybe
it was the cider?

With one firm finger, Maudlin lifted Robyn’s chin to speak
directly to her. “I said if you tell me everything, I might
convince the Earl to spare your miserable life.”

“
Why?” Robyn croaked.

“
Why would I spare you?”

Not that. “Why . . . does Derby want me?”

Smugness made the edge of Maudlin’s mouth curl upwards.
“You’re so naive. Roger was on the King’s official business, on
behalf of Derby. You interfered with that, which is
treason.”

Confusion swirled inside her. She didn’t even know what
treason was, but it sounded horrible. “I didn’t mean
it.”

“
That’s a good start. Now, why don’t we get you a nice warm
bath and some clean clothes and you can tell me
everything.”

It all sounded so . . . reasonable . . . and a warm bath as
well? Saints! There had to be something in that cider because her
priorities were all out of whack. She could die happy if she had a
warm bath.

“
They will hang you tomorrow,” Maudlin said as she lead Robyn
to a room where a cloth-lined tub sat in the centre.

A curtain of steam rose from it.

“
Yeah . . .” So distracted by the inviting bath, Robyn
pulled her tunic off her head, her muscles as stiff as the boards
she’d slept on.

Maudlin may have still been talking, but it was all white
noise as Robyn pushed her skirt down.
“Not worried about modesty, are
you?”

“
Huh?” Robyn reached for the edge of the tub and hefted one
foot over the side into the water. Her feet, frozen from the onset
of winter and no shoes, fairly boiled as she stepped in. A second
later, the heat scorched her skin. She sank her cold body into the
hot water, then shoved her feet out the top to give them a
reprieve.

With the same tone that she might use to say, “It’s looking
like rain,” Maudlin said, “Marion was the same.”

“
Wait, what?” Robyn’s head whipped around to face Maudlin
through the fog of the bath. She had to wave her hands about to
clear it.

“
G
ood,
you’re listening,” Maudlin said, pulling up a stool and sitting
herself down. From behind a tapestry, a maid appeared and took
Robyn’s dirty clothing away.

Which meant she was trapped in the bath with no clothes to
dress herself in, and Maudlin appeared to have no intention of
leaving.

Enveloped in hot water, Robyn’s mind turned to slurry. Her
dry throat told her to drink, so she slid further into the bath,
until the hot water seeped over her chin. She slurped a little. The
water tasted strange and brackish. A strong urge to sleep took hold
so she closed her eyes to give them a rest.

“
Don’t fall asleep in the tub, you’ll drown,” Maudlin said,
“Marion nearly did. I had to drag him out.”

That woke her up. Had Marion been in this very tub? The
water looked far too clear to be second-hand, but perhaps they’d
merely topped it up? And if Marion had been in this tub, and
Maudlin had sat nearby . . . did that mean she’d seen him . . . as
in,
seen
him
? Jealousy
spiked. “Fine, I’ll bite. You had Marion here. Well done. Did you
steal his clothes as well?”

“
Careful, you’re beginning to sound ungrateful. But yes, he
too had his first bath in years. Climbed in the colour of mud, came
out like a newborn. Well,” she cleared her throat, “a little
more
developed
than a newborn. I can see why you fancy him.” Maudlin
fanned her face with her hand.

Heat roared through Robyn and not because of the bath. How
unfair that Lady Maudlin should see more of Marion than she had!
Honestly, it was a wonder she didn’t sink under the water there and
then.

Robyn slapped her face to focus on the here and now. When
that didn’t work, she dunked her head under, swishing her hair in
the water to rinse out years of dirt. Gingerly she touched her head
where the splinters were. Maybe the water would soften her skin,
help push the last one out?

When Robyn broke through the water’s surface again, Maudlin
said, “What are we going to do with you?”

Too busy enjoying the bath, Robyn ignored Maudlin.
It was so nice and
warm and blissful. Her aching muscles softened. Another few minutes
and she’d feel brand new and ready to face the world.

Which was when something Maudling had said earlier popped
into Robyn’s head.

“
You’re going to hand me over to the Earl of Derby. So he
can hang me
?”

“
Let’s have a chat about that, shall we?” Maudlin
said.

“
You know that I know you’re hiding all that loot in the
dungeons. They’re taxes you’re supposed to hand over to The Earl.
The way I see it, you’re doing
tree-sums
as well. You might have to kill me before
the Earl gets here, to stop me telling him what I know.”

“
It’s pronounced
tree-zun
dear, and I am completely in the clear. No fool
would send everything to The Earl in the one carriage. There’s too
great a risk of losing it all to outlaws. In fact, the Earl will be
grateful that I’m storing the taxes so conscientiously
and
I’ve capture so many
outlaws. I’ve made Sheffield safer.”

Utterly cornered, so to speak, Robyn sunk into the hot water
and tried to think

Maudlin made a moue with her lips, then said,
“
Poor girl,
you were so sure of yourself a minute ago.”

That was the truth. Nothing Robyn said had made a dent in the
woman’s confidence, only in her own.

Was this how Maudlin converted Ellen to her side? A night
in isolation, followed by a hearty spiked breakfast and cider then
a steaming bath chaser?

Maudlin smiled so much it reached her eyes and made
triangle creases in her skin. The jackdaw on her shoulder tucked
its head under a wing and slept.

“
Robyn dear, I want you to be honest, what do you think
me?”

“
Is this a trick question?” Because what Robyn was thinking
wasn’t very nice.

“
I want you to tell me what you think of me.”

Without thinking, Robyn said, “I think you’re
weird.”

“
Weird is good.”

Laughter barked from Robyn. She’d expected Maudlin to be angry
at the insult, instead she’d taken it as a compliment.

“
We live in interesting times,” Maudlin said. “One must
adapt to changes or be lost to history. Who remembers the old Kings
of the Angles and Saxons any more? Gone as swift as a river carries
a teardrop to the sea.

“
My forebears were gifted Sheffield for their loyalty to the
King. My grandfather bequeathed it to me. I inherited only because
he had no sons or grandsons to name. How lucky am I to be
considered a slightly better option than the estate returning to
the crown?”

Maudlin looked away. Was she crying? Surely not.

“
Do you know what else? If I marry, all my family property,
including Sheffield, is automatically transferred to my husband’s
ownership. If I have no sons, he could hand everything upon his
death to his nephews or brothers or cousins. That is hardly fair,
is it?”

Confusion swirled like rising bath mist. “I’m sorry
Maudlin, but all that bequeathing stuff is over my
head.”

“
Of course it is. You are merely a peasant. What would you know
of property or inheritance?”

Nothing at all, which is why Robyn kept boggling. “Is there a
point to this?”

“
You are rude!” Maudlin said.

“
Sorry.” At least the raven stayed asleep. If it were awake, it
would be ruffling its feathers and beading its eyes on
her.

Looking downcast, Maudlin said in a soft voice, “You are
rude, but you are also right. I am weird, and I’m proud of it. You
see, I have made choices in this life, choices which allow me to
stay in control of my circumstances. I cannot marry, that would
cede all power to my husband. I mislike that. I want to retain
control of Sheffield, therefore I must not marry.”

“
Sounds kind of lonely,” Robyn said.

Maudlin laughed, waking the jackdaw which ruffled its
feathers. “I said I must not marry. I didn’t say anything about
being alone.”

Heat bloomed across Robyn’s face.

“
Retaining control means remaining strong. If you were me,
would you send all the taxes to Derby and starve through the
winter?”

“
But they’re our things,” Robyn said.

“
No they are not. You are a peasant, nothing belongs to you. As
the law stands, you belong to your liege lord, and that lord is
me.

“
The liege lord is supposed to protect us!”

Robyn glared at Maudlin, who did little more than purse her
lips.

“
Next time you look out the window, girl, gaze upon the dozens
of peasants directly under my protection. I’d be a lousy liege lord
if I let them starve through the winter. Ahhh, but I’ve provided
for them, I’m keeping some of the taxes to pay for supplies we so
desperately need.

“
What’s left will go to Derby, as he is the Sheriff of
Nottingham. He has ten times the mouths to feed. I would hope a
sensible man such as Derby would be providing for his peasants as
well.

The long soak wrinkled Robyn’s fingers. “All this talk of
taxes is doing my head in.”