Robyn and the Hoodettes (6 page)

Fury made her react. “No!” she screamed, grabbing a sharpened
stake and flinging it down on them. It glanced one man on the side
of the head. Oh dear, it came perilously close to the horses. Must
not hurt the horses!

“
Ow! What?” The man grabbed his wounded skull and looked
about.

Marion piled a fresh supply of stakes right near Robyn’s
throwing hand, then a moment later he too was flinging pointy bits
of wood down on the interlopers.

“
Take that!” Robyn screamed, then lapsed into a coughing
fit.

“
Mister Roger, we’re under attack!” A man yelled,

“
I can see that. Take cover!”

Instead of returning fire, the men ducked under the tower.
Well, they wouldn’t be able to climb up, because the ladders
weren’t there. And if they did manage to scramble to the top, she
and Marion would be waiting for them.

Arm poised to fling another stake, Robyn waited for the men
to move.

And waited.

And waited some more.

The ground was littered with pointy weapons, why weren’t they
throwing them back?

Suddenly the men ran out and grabbed the horses, then
charged away, fleeing for their lives.

“
And stay out!” Robyn screamed after them. Which also brought
on a fresh coughing attack.

Marion had slumped down behind the battlement, breathing
through his tunic. The smoke thickened. Flames burst through the
top of the cottages, the dry thatching burning fast and
free.

Dizzy with adrenaline and smoke inhalation, Robyn slumped
down and covered her face.

“
Well, they’ve cleared off. We should get down
now.”

An unearthly “
whoomp
” of flames sounded below them.

Directly below.

The air filled with strange new smells, like burning bread.
But there was no bread here. Only . . . uh-oh!
The bags of
flour
.

“
They’ve set fire to the tower.” Marion’s Adam’s apple bobbed
out as he gulped. “We’re trapped.”

“
We’ll have to climb over the side, come on,” she urged Marion,
touching the stones to make sure they weren’t too hot.

Marion slumped against the wall, his skin turning as grey
as the air around them. “Robbie, I’m no good with
heights.”

If Marion couldn’t deal with heights, they were in all
sorts of trouble. They couldn’t climb down the ladders; they’d
whittled them away. Jumping from this height was out of the
question. But maybe they could jump down through the trapdoor to
the floor below, and then leap out the windows from there? That
wasn’t so high up, was it?

“
Everything’s going to be all right.” It was vital to sound
like she’d thought this through. “We don’t have to climb down from
all the way up here. We’ll jump down to the floor below . . . and
then crawl out the window. How does that sound?”

Marion nodded as sweat broke out over his forehead. It was
getting so hot up here.

Flames punched a hole in the floor. Thick smoke belched
out.

The rooms below would be fully engulfed. So much for getting
to the lower floor, they’d be roasted in no time if they tried.
There was no way out other than scrambling over the battlements and
making their way down the outside of the walls.

Robyn grabbed him by the shoulders. “We’re going to be fine,”
she lied. She had to say something to get him to move, because if
they stayed here they were roasted meat. “The stones have big gaps
between them for your hands and feet, it will be just like climbing
a ladder.”

He only gulped.

Confusion addled her mind. “Marion? You got yourself up here
without any help.”

His voice came out so softly. “Yes but, it was dark when we
climbed up.”

The fire devoured the floorboards. They had two options. Go
over the top or die.

“
Shut your eyes. Shut your eyes and do what I say.” It was
boiling hot. Singed aromas filled the air. “Don’t look at the fire.
Don’t look down. Just listen to me, got that? Right, we’re getting
out of here.”

If anything, the heavy smoke became their ally, as it was hard
to see all the way to the ground below. Robyn helped Marion
straddle the battlement, his legs dangling off the side as they
nudged and budged themselves until they were hanging on, vertical
to the wall.

“
Keep listening to me, keep doing what I say,” she said,
between coughing fits.

With a pained voice Marion said, “You’re loving this, aren’t
you.”

“
Oh yes.” When all else failed, there was sarcasm.

Just as she’d described it, the stones really were set apart
like rungs on a ladder. It was easy to find footholds and handgrips
at regular intervals. “That’s it, you’re doing great. Now, move
your right hand down here, and grab on to the top of this stone.
That’s it. Good. We’re getting there.”

Was it her imagination, or were the stones getting warmer? Now
that they’d moved a couple of painful stone courses downwards, the
smoke started to clear around them.

Yet it felt hotter.

Because the tower was acting like a chimney, sucking in air
through the bottom and sending it racing up to the top. The middle
floors were completely alight, conducting heat into the tower
walls. Thank goodness they weren’t still up on the top, they’d be
dead by now. “You’re doing it. We’re both still alive, and we can
tell Mother Eleanor and Joan all about it when we get
down.”

Mother and Joan? Robyn prayed they were waiting this out
somewhere safe, somewhere down by the river.

“
You’re doing great. Keep listening to me,” Robyn said,
desperate not to utter an ominous, “don’t look down”.

Block by block, limb by wobbly limb, they descended. The
stones felt hotter than ever, but there was no way to protect their
skin. She pulled her tunic sleeve over her palm, but it made it
harder to grip the bricks. They’d have blisters for sure, but
they’d also have breath in their body and that was always a
bonus.

“
I can’t do it,” Marion said, every muscle shaking.

“
Yes you can, you’re nearly there.”

Marion pressed his body into the stones as if he could merge
with them.

Robyn opened her mouth and her mother came out. “Look at me
Marion. Open your eyes and look at me.”

It worked though, Marion did open his eyes.

Praise the saints!

“
Here’s the thing. You won’t tell anyone I can’t read, I won’t
tell anyone about this. Deal?”

A faint smile spread over his face. “Deal.” It came out in a
whisper.

“
Left hand, move it down to the next block, got it? Good,
now move your right leg, that way you’re covering more space and
spreading your weight out more evenly. Good. Now move your right
hand, and then your left leg. Right?”

“
You said left.”

“
Don’t get smart.” Relief flooded Robyn. Back-chatting had
to be a good sign.

They were doing it. And the stones weren’t as hot all of a
sudden. They must be lower than she thought. Looking down at last,
Robyn nearly laughed.

“
We can jump from here,” she said.

“
What?”

“
Look down.”

With a gulp, Marion obeyed and looked down. Then he too
laughed with relief. They’d climbed all the way down between the
arches and were only three stone courses above the
ground.

Robyn let go of the wall and landed with a welcome thud on the
ground. Marion landed a short while later, having jumped from the
second course.

The village of Littleton flamed on around them.

The tower beside them reduced to a shell.

All the supplies they’d tried to save had been in that tower.
Now they fell as ashes.

They were alive, but they had nothing.

“
Water,” Marion said, getting to his feet and holding his hand
out to help Robyn up.

When they reached the river, Robyn slumped into it,
covering her entire body with coldness. What sweet relief it was to
cool her burned palms and baked body in the water.

“
Robyn! Marion! Thank heavens you’re all right!” Joan and
Eleanor came running up to them and splashed into the edge of the
river. Eleanor stopped at the banks. “Get out of there, you’ll
drown!” She ordered.

“
It’s only waist deep!” Robyn said.

“
I don’t care. Water is for cooking, not bathing,” Eleanor
said, reaching her hand out to her daughter. “Now get
out.”

“
Mother Eleanor, this is probably the safest place to be,”
Marion said as he got to his feet. He was soaked from top to
bottom. His long shirt clung to his body, highlighting the muscles
and planes of his torso. “Littleton is on fire.”

“
We noticed,” Joan said, then she winked at Marion and said,
“You should stay wet.”

Marion snorted as he pulled the soaking fabric away from his
skin.

Heat raced up Robyn’s face, so she splashed herself to hide
her embarrassment. Did Marion know she was looking at him? Weighed
down by her wet clothes, she dragged herself to the banks and
looked at the desolation.

“
Sorry Joan.” Remorse churned her stomach. Here they were,
surrounded by water, yet they had no way of dousing it on the fire
to save the village. The wind gusted in the opposite direction,
blowing smoke away from them. It afforded a great view of what
remained of Littleton.

Precious little. The stone tower stood there like a
chimney, but the cottages were nothing but smouldering timber and
clay shells. Their thatched roofs, made from dried straw, had never
stood a chance.

“
Wait a minute,” Robyn said as she sloshed her way to the river
bank. “Is that another horse?”

“
Oh, yes,” Eleanor said, “She was already by the river when we
got here. Very friendly. Won’t leave Shadow’s side.”

Must have been the other one Robyn had let loose when she’d
stolen Shadow. They’d lost a village but gained a horse.

Shivers took hold as the breeze rolled around her sodden
clothes. “Right, let’s dry out.” Slosh, slosh, slosh, she walked
towards the closest ruined cottage, holding her wet tunic over her
nose to keep the smoke out of her lungs.

There
was nothing left to salvage in the cottage. Sunlight
streamed in where the roof should have been. The walls were still
standing, but the wattle and daub mud had cracked from the heat. A
radiant heat, which helped dry her out a little.

Everything not currently smoking had burned to black
coals.

“
Hey, it’s not so bad,” Joan said as she gave Robyn a
hug.

Robyn snuggled in to the hug and returned it with equal
sympathy and love, dreading to think what might be left of
Loxley.

“
We’re alive, yeah? That’s always a bonus,” Joan
said.

“
Since you put it that way,” Robyn said, surveying the
destruction all around them.

“
Let’s check the well. My parents were always throwing things
down there, whenever strangers came into town. Who knows,” Joan
added with a shrug, “We might find something useful.”

Four humans and two horses peered into the well.

“
Is there any water in it?” Marion asked.

Joan shrugged. “Doesn’t need to be. The river’s always
reliable.

“
I can’t see the bottom though.” Marion’s knuckles whitened as
he held on to the stones around the top of the well.

Robyn swallowed, recognising his fear. “I can climb down,
but I don’t know how I’ll carry anything out.”

“
Smart thinking.” Eleanor took off her apron and ripped it into
strips, then tied each strip together to make a rope. “It won’t be
strong enough for you, but whatever you find you can tie at the end
and we’ll haul it up.”

Robyn began to climb, feet first, down the well. The diameter
was narrow enough for her to anchor her feet and hands either side
to support her weight as she shuffled down. It became darker and
darker, so she had to stop a while and let her eyes
adjust.

Breathe, it’s not scary, everything is OK.

Her breaths echoed off the stone walls. Her thighs cramped
with effort and she wanted to jump the rest of the way, but she
still couldn’t see the bottom. If she let go of the walls, how far
would she fall before she hit the floor?

And what would be on the floor to break her fall?

The answer came a minute later when her foot squelched into
soft mud.

“
I’m at the bottom,” She called up to the faces looking down at
her.

It stank something putrid down here, but she had a job to do
so she felt her way about.

“
I found a rope!” She called out.

A moment later, Mother Eleanor’s torn fabric fluttered down.
Robyn tied the rope to the end of it. At least now they had
something stronger to haul things out of the well.