Sherwood (7 page)

After swordplay with Robin,
one of the men had gotten sick, so one of the recruits, Reggie, was
left without someone to train with.

Harlow gladly took the sick
recruits place.

Reggie was a big man. He
was bold, but cunning from what Harlow could tell. She remembered
seeing him climb a tree like it was a ladder. He may have been
wide, but his capabilities were endless.

Harlow reached out her hand
and gripped his when he offered. “Henry McBride. Nice to meet you,
Reggie.”

Reggie nodded at her. She
felt his reluctance about this match. “Reggie Chaldean. Same, of
course.”

Reggie smiled at Harlow
before he reluctantly looked at his weapon. “I know it's been a
pretty tough day. What if, for now, we go a little easy on each
other?” He offered.

Harlow inwardly breathed a
sigh of relief. She tried to cover it, but it was evident in the
way her body relaxed from the suggestion. “I'd like that. Thank
you, Reggie.” She said, in her best masculine tone once
again.

Reggie simply nodded,
holding up his sword. “Let's fight.” He exaggerated with a
chuckle.

The two didn't fight long,
only enough to pass the time and relax from the trying
day.

Reggie confided in her,
telling her that he'd lost four matches today. He was having an off
week, he explained, it was hard being away from home.

Harlow completely
sympathized, telling him she felt the exact same way. Even though
it wasn't exactly manly in their book, she wanted Reggie to know
everyone felt the same way he did.

She was on her way back to
the cabin around sun down. The sun had fallen just past the
horizon, when she meandered through a shortcut, following a dirt
path.

She noticed the pier on her
left, but she had to do a double-take to realize who it was that
sat uncomfortably on it.

She sighed, thinking of
what she should do.

Deciding that the right
thing to do was end the crazy argument, she walked lazily to the
pier, her footsteps shaking the old, wooden planks as she did so,
the pier moaning and creaking under her toes.

She sat down hesitantly
next to him, as he stared out at the water.

Harlow didn't know what to
say so she stayed silent.

Eventually, she couldn't
handle the silence anymore.

“
Listen,
Enders--”

“
Henry,
I--”

The two spoke
simultaneously. Harlow chuckled a bit, looking up at Enders who
smiled at her.

That smile.

That
smile. She loved that smile. It was
a smile encompassing defeat, concern, and anxiety.

Harlow felt
her heart pump again, but she did not like it.
Not one bit.

“
You go ahead.” Harlow said to him, with a hand
gesture.

Enders nodded. He sighed
and looked down at the water that almost licked the bottom of his
shoes. “I shouldn't have yelled. I overreacted.” He looked at
Harlow. “I'm sorry.”

Harlow smiled. “It's okay.
I'm sorry, too. I know it's hard to be here, away from your
parents.”

Enders chuckled. “Tell me
about it.” He shook his head. “My mother is not to ecstatic right
now. I'm all she has left.”

Harlow furrowed her
eyebrows. “Oh, Enders I'm sorry. I didn't know your
father...passed.”

Enders nodded. “Yeah. He
didn't really pass.” Enders chuckled sadly. “He left
us.”

Harlow parted her lips as
she stared at him. She wanted so badly to say something to him, to
comfort him, but nothing came to mind.

“
I know what
you're thinking. I'm fine.” Enders kept his gaze on the water and
the horizon beyond the trees. “It's been done with.”

Harlow nodded. Silence
settled on the two. She tried to think of things to say, but
nothing popped up for a while. It was only after ten minutes of a
semi-comfortable silence that one idea flew into her head. She
mentally wrestled herself with the idea, whether she should tell or
not. Finally, she admitted defeat and broke the silence in the
least awkward way possible.

“
Do you know
the tale about Little John and the Cook?”

Enders nodded, looking at
her. “Aye. It's one of the best.”

Harlow smiled a bit.
“There's a bit of that story missing.”

Enders snapped his head to
her and widened his eyes. “What do you mean?”

Harlow looked out on the
lake. “I mean that,” She paused throwing a renegade rock that laid
on the pier. “The cook, he actually fell in love with this woman.
She was a very important, high class, high status
woman.”

Enders let his mouth open a
bit as he listened, turning his eyes back to the lake as the sun
setting itself over the trees on the horizon.

Harlow hushed her voice a
bit in sadness. “That woman died for the love they shared. Punished
by the Sheriff and the King.”

Enders' bodily frame
dropped an inch in sadness.

Harlow dropped her voice
even lower. “That woman was my mother.”

Enders' eyes snapped back
to her again, holding her gaze for several seconds.

“
And you
wouldn't know it if you looked at him, but my father makes a mean
beef stew.” Harlow joked, chuckling a bit, afraid to look at
Enders.

Enders stared at her in
shock, not knowing what to say.

“
I know what
you're thinking. I'm fine.” She repeated his words from earlier.
“It's been done with.”

Silence fell on the two for
several moments, his eyes lingering on her for a few extra moments
before falling back onto the water in front of him.

“
We do what
we must to make the pain of losing someone go away. So, if we must
make a few jokes, or a pun or two, then so be it. At least that way
the pain is numbed.” Harlow said, looking one more time at Enders,
before raising a hand to her hat and making sure it was on
securely, no strands of hair poking out. She pushed herself up and
stood next to him for a moment.

“
I'd like to
friends again, if you're interested.” She offered, seriously,
although the remnant of a joke lingered.

Enders chuckled. “Aye. I
think that's a fantastic idea.”

Harlow nodded, her heart
thumping with anticipation for tomorrow's training. “I'll see you
tomorrow on the field.”

Enders smiled.
“Aye.”

Chapter
Seven

Days and weeks seemed to
pass without acknowledgment.

Harlow's heart would thump
like crazy for Enders, but she fought to control it.

She was shocked that no one
had found out about her secret yet. It had been five months since
she'd started living among thieves. She had to admit, she missed
home, but it wasn't as bad she'd thought.

They practiced swordplay
more frequently than archery, but Robin noticed this pattern and
started to send everybody to the archery range instead.

For a month, they had
intense archery training.

For another month after,
all they did was throw knives and daggers.

Three people were hit by
renegade knives that month. Luckily, though, they hadn't lost their
lives, but obtained only a few scratches and scars.

Harlow hadn't really
appreciated the change, but when she bathed, she noticed that her
stomach muscles had profited.

She wasn't well versed in
archery. She considered it one of her weaknesses, although she
could keep herself alive in a forest for a few hours, if the need
arose.

She hadn't ever really
thought about it too much, but she was better at hand-to-hand
combat and melee skills than she was with archery.

Will Scarlet had taught
them how to throw knives, which she'd excelled at and enjoyed every
time.

When it came to archery,
she didn't find it fun, and only practiced the art when absolutely
necessary.

Every now and then,
however, she couldn't help but wonder what other hidden talents and
capabilities she had hidden in her.

Often, she would wonder how
long this would last. How long would this stalemate of a war last?
How long would it be before Harlow's father rode in on a horse,
demanding his daughter be returned? How long would it be before her
hat came flying off, letting loose the intense curls of hair that
sat on her head? How could she cover that up? These men didn't have
long hair and if her hat somehow came off of her head, she would be
sent back home before she'd done anything significant.

*~*~*

Robin stood, hands planted
on his hips in a masculine undertone, surveying the groggy
recruits. The sun hadn't even shown it's face yet.

Harlow raised an eyebrow,
following his line of sight as he paced back and forth. She knew
he'd never done this before, training a group of men to be heroes
of some sort.

She let out a silent
chuckle. Robin Hood wasn't training them to be thieves. No, he was
training them to protect the fugitives from the law of the king,
which really wasn't that bad a thing in her opinion; although, she
couldn't help but wonder what turned a hardened thief into some
kind of fighting force.

It seemed to Harlow that
Robin Hood had just transformed overnight. It was obvious from the
tales that Robin really wasn't interested in a war between good and
evil. He didn't really care when King Edward II was in reign, and
even received a bit of a full pardon from him. But, now that King
Wesley was in power, he seemed grief-stricken.

Harlow wondered what had
changed. Why was this battle between supposed good and evil being
undertaken by Robin Hood, of all men?

“
Alright,
men,” Robin started, looking around the group. Several torches lit
the forest around the congregation. Harlow spotted Aldridge at the
edge of the group, holding a torch as he rubbed his tired
eyes.

Harlow wasn't as tired as
everyone else; she'd slept early and hadn't trained as hard the
previous day. Still, she wiped her eyes of sleep as she stood in
the midst of the large group of men.

Robin turned to the dark
forest beyond. “We're going to have a bit of an assessment this
morning.” He said, motioning to the dark woods beyond. “I suppose
you could think of it as a game.” He turned back to the group of
men. “The first team to capture the opposing groups' flags and
makes it back to their starting point, wins.”

The recruits looked around
at each other. “What is the point of this game?” One slightly
frustrated, and sleep-deprived man, called out from the depths of
the group.

Robin raised an eyebrow.
“Do I need a reason to wake up my recruits and give them
instructions?” He asked, booming the words as a warning. He sighed,
looking over their faces, knowing their irritation. “But, if you
must know,” He looked to the woods. “It's a strategic exercise, to
make sure you know what you're doing in the midst of
danger.”

“
Isn't it a
little dangerous to use arrows like this? We could kill each other
this way.” A recruit name Arelyn spoke up first.

Robin rolled his eyes
nonchalantly. “We're not using real arrows. We'll be giving you
these.” He head up an arrow with no arrow head. “We call them
faux-arrows.”

Harlow nodded loosely,
looking around the group as she thought about how the faux-arrows
were just sticks with feathers on the ends.

Her eyes landed on Enders
as she got lost in her thoughts.

He was tired, she could
tell, but, she already knew he was exhausted from yesterday's
training. She'd spent time practicing with him for a few hours
before she left him to Reggie, who wouldn't relent on practice
until he won at least once. That could have taken hours.

She noticed, in the dark
lighting, a small bruise on his cheek, no doubt from yesterday. She
tried to remember him without some kind of blemish or mark on his
face.

She couldn't think of a
single time.

Ever since they'd started
training, he'd always taken a hit somewhere, leaving a mark to
remember it by.

That wasn't the only thing
that she noticed about him. She could tell he was stronger. He'd
gained muscle and lost some weight. He was fit, but she found
herself worried that he'd become malnourished.

Harlow tried to fight her
heart beat as she stared at him, willing herself to suppress the
growing butterflies in her stomach. It was hard to ignore him, and
she found herself engulfed by his very presence, only to fall back
to reality as Robin rattled off the names of who would be on whose
teams.

“
...Henry,
Enders, Candor, Elwin, and Rawley,” She raised an eyebrow, taking
her eyes off Enders and directing them to Robin, who smiled at
her.

“
I want to
see some intense battles out there, men!” Robin yelled as the men
started to gather into their teams. He narrowed his eyes to Harlow
who stood, looking to him for instruction. “McBride! I want to see
you utilize the other strategies your father has taught
you!”