Robin Hood and the Dragon’s Mate

Through the fog in her head she could hear voices arguing. “Are you crazy?! You brought her back to camp?” A soft voice put in, “What if she’s a spy of the sheriff’s?”

A deeper voice argued, “Look at those strange clothes. She’s not from around here.”

The first voice countered, “You think the sheriff is above hiring foreigners?”

The deep voice came back, “Look, she’s hurt because I scared her. I couldn’t leave her for the animals.”

The first voice chuckled, “You mean the other animals.” There was a growl the first voice came from farther away, “Hey now, I’m just kidding. Down boy.”

Yet another voice spoke softly, “Robin, she’s hurt and she’s beautiful. If the slavers find her you know they’ll snatch her. Let us take care of her and return her to her home.”

A fifth voice, even softer than the last came from right next to her, where she realized he had been through the entire argument, “Of course, Will. I have no intention of turning her out.” The first voice sputtered and the last, Robin according to the fourth voice, interrupted. “I will take responsibility for this young one. If she is a spy then I will pay the consequences. Her face is kind, though lined with more stress than someone so young should bear. I do not think that she is a spy.”

Ashlyn wanted to remain quiet and continue listening but she was thirsty and her head hurt. She groaned and, from the rustle of movement and the voices, she could tell that they had all gathered around her. The fourth voice, Will, said “Robin, she’s awake.” Robin’s voice called, “Friar, have we any herbs for pain?”

“Herbs?” Ashlyn croaked, “How about an aspirin?” She asked. She pried her eyes open, though it felt as if they had been glued shut. She looked up into the faces of a small mismatched crowd of men. She suddenly felt very vulnerable and awkward, “Umm, hi.” A good looking blond man who appeared to be in his thirties was smiling down at her, his green eyes seemed kind to her and her discomfort eased a bit.

“Hello there,” he greeted, “Are you in pain?”

She started to nod but the action made her dizzy so instead she croaked, “Yes, and thirsty.” The man looked up, “Alan, fetch her a flask of water, please.” A tall lanky blond man nodded and disappeared from the group. A huge man with bushy black hair and a bushy black beard leaned closer, “I’m sorry that I frightened you in the woods little one. I didn’t know anyone was there.”

She stared at him confused, “You didn’t scare me. It was…it was an animal, a wolf or a bear or something.”

His cheeks turned scarlet and he turned his hazel eyes away, “Yes…well, I’m sorry anyway.”

Next to the kind blond man a younger man stood watching her. He had dark hair and the most beautiful chocolate colored eyes. He had a crooked smile on his face, “Hi,” he said, his cheeks turning pink. “I’m Will.”

The kind blond man smiled, “Oh yes, how rude of us, I’m Robin.” He gestured to the large man, “This is John.”

The lanky man returned with what looked like a canteen, “I’m Alan.” He held out the canteen to her and she tried to sit up to drink. The chocolate eyed man, Will, was there in an instant. He put his arm under her neck and helped her sit up enough to drink. After she’d had her fill, he lay her back down gently.

She smiled up at him, “Thanks.”

His face instantly turned scarlet, “Yes well…of course.” He slipped his hand out from under her neck and backed away. Robin shared a grin with her. His boyish smile reminded her of Athyn. Suddenly she sat straight up, “Oh my God! Athyn!” She had to bury her face in her hands to try to stop the spinning. Pain shot through her eyes straight to the center of her skull.

“She worships a god named Athyn? I’ve never heard of this god, perhaps she is from another land.” She uncovered her eyes to see a short squat man with a large belly. He held out a tin cup that was steaming, “These herbs will calm her and ease the pain. It will help her sleep.”

He looked at her suspiciously. Robin took the cup, “thank you, Friar.”

Too muddled to protest, Ashlyn took the herbs. She must have slept a few hours. When she woke again, the pain had lessened.

Robin tried to give her more herbs, “No,” she said. “I can’t sleep anymore. I have to find my brother, Athyn. He’s only ten. He can’t be alone in the woods.” She looked up at Robin, imploringly, “Please, you have to show me where you found me. I have to keep looking for him.”

Robin and the huge man, John, exchanged unreadable expressions. She looked back and forth between them, “What?”

John cleared his throat and explained in his gruff voice, “The reason I was in that part of the woods is that I was tracking a group of slavers. If they found your brother then he may have been taken captive.”

“Slavers?” she asked, incredulously. “Slavery doesn’t exist in civilized countries anymore. It was banished over a century ago.” She glared, worried about her brother and too exhausted from her injury to appreciate the joke.

Robin seemed determined to keep everyone calm, “Perhaps in your land there is no slavery but here the sheriff himself invites slavers to bring him the best slaves. As long as he gets first pick, they can sell whoever they can get a chain on."

Will shuddered, “Tell me about it,” he growled softly, a dark look passing over his eyes. Then he shook it off and replaced his scowl with a grin.

Ashlyn shook her head in confusion, “No, in 1863 the Emancipation Proclamation banished slavery in the United States, but I know that most of Europe abolished slavery in the seventeen hundreds.”

Alan laughed, “She jests with us, speaking of fairy tale lands. Even the dates that she gives are odd.”

“I’m not joking. What fairy tale land? The United States? Come on, I know England is a bit backward, what with your funny accents and pronouncing the ‘H’ in herb, but surely your schools teach you about the US. You know the country smack dab in the middle of North America?”

They all stared at her as if she were crazy. “This is England, right?”

Robin nodded, “Yes, just outside of Nottinghamshire. Please don’t think us ignorant, but where is this North America you speak of?”

She bit her lip in frustration then shook her head resolutely, certain that he was joking, “I don’t have time for this, slavers or no, my brother is missing.”

Robin nodded, ‘Of course, we can speak as we walk it is a long journey to the place where John found you.”

They gathered supplies and the friar insisted on applying a poultice to Ashlyn’s head. Will came up beside her, “You know our names, but you haven’t told us yours.” He gave her a tentative smile and she smiled back, “I’m Ashlyn.”

Will stared at her for a minute, “Ashlyn is an odd name for a girl.”

She shrugged, “My mom liked unique names.”

He caught her use of the past tense, “Liked?”

She sighed as a wave of sadness washed over her, “Yes, mom died almost a year ago. It’s just me and Athyn now.”

He frowned at her, “I’m sorry for your loss. It must be difficult to care for your brother. Does your husband not mind the added burden?”

“Husband?” she exclaimed. “I’m not married. I’m only seventeen for heaven’s sake.”

He looked back at her as if he didn’t understand the problem with the assumption. “I’m much too young to be married.” She explained.

He cocked his head at her, “Things must be very different where you are from, this North America.”

She shrugged, “It’s beginning to seem that way.” She lowered her voice, “You’re friends…they’re just teasing about not knowing about America, right?”

He shook his head, “I have never heard of it, and my uncle was a map maker. I thought I knew about all of the lands out there.”

He frowned at having been wrong about this. She shook her head, incredulous, “Well, America was discovered in 1492. That should be enough time for you English guys to get it into your history books.”

Alan sped up his pace to walk beside them. “See, there she goes with her odd dates. Do you think they figure time differently in her land?”

Ashlyn stared at him, “What are you talking about? It’s 2014. The dates may change with the time zones, but not by that much.”

Will stopped walking and turned to face her.

“Perhaps that strike to the head has damaged her,” Alan whispered as Robin came back to where the three stood talking.

“Ashlyn,” he said softly. “The date is the nineteenth of May, the year of our Lord 1193.” He watched her, waiting for a reaction. She shook her head, the action making her dizzy again. Will caught her as she stumbled. She leaned against him for balance, “No…no you’re lying.”

John stepped out of the trees and leaned down to mere inches from her face, “Robin of Loxley never lies!” He growled.

Ashlyn scoffed, “Robin of Loxley? You mean Robin Hood?” She started laughing outright. She turned to face Will, “and I suppose you’re Will Scarlet and that’s Alan-a-Dale,” she said gesturing to Alan. “And Friar Tuck and Little John?”

She was laughing so hard her head was whirling. “All this is a playact? I don’t know why I didn’t realize it before. You English are obsessed with this Robin Hood nonsense, but I have to tell you something. Robin Hood is a fictional character. He never existed.”

She heard Alan laughing, “Little John? You hear that John?” The large man growled in response to the taunt.

But she plowed on, “Athyn would love to meet you guys, a bunch of grown men pretending to be Robin Hood and his merry men. Don’t you guys have real lives to live?”

The men just stared at her. Finally the one pretending to be Robin spoke up, “You speak as if you know of us. Have tales of our exploits reached your land?”

She rolled her eyes. Sure, sure, I’ll play along, she thought. She reached into her back pocket and pulled out a copy of Athyn’s favorite book, “The Tales and Adventures of Robin Hood.”

She handed it over to Robin who looked at it, “What strange writing. How does anyone write this small? Feel the parchment, it is so smooth.” He passed the book around to the others. They oohed and ahhed and then Robin took the book back. “I cannot read such small writing,” he turned back to Ashlyn, “What does it say?”

She rolled her eyes and took the book back. She read Athyn’s favorite story about how Robin met Alan-a-Dale.

“The sheriff’s men captured a traveling minstrel named Alan-a-Dale. Alan had only been taking some apples from a tree along the road, but the sheriff’s men accused him of poaching on the sheriff’s land. They declared him guilty then and there and were about to cut off Alan-a-Dale’s hand as punishment for his theft when suddenly an arrow knocked the sword from the guard’s hand just seconds before it would have sliced Alan’s hand clean off.

Alan, always a quick thinker, saw his chance to frighten the men off and spoke of the ghosts of Sherwood who abhorred violence and would haunt them to the end of their days if they did any violence within the boundaries of the haunted wood.

Seeming to be playing along with Alan’s story, the wind blew through the trees making a low mournful sound. The men were frightened. Grabbing their swords, they ran away, swearing never to enter the haunted forest again.

Robin Hood came from the woods once the men were gone and untied Alan. They laughed at the guards’ foolishness. They became fast friends because Robin had saved Alan the use of his hand.”

“That’s not what happened at all!” Alan claimed indignantly. “I’ll have you know that I saved Robin’s life! Not the other way around.”

Ashlyn laughed, “It’s just a story.”

Robin cocked his head at her, “There are written tales of our exploits and yet the stories are told wrong.”

He turned to Alan, “Not that anyone would believe what really happened.”

Alan seemed to think for a moment, then nodded in agreement huffing, “Still, if they’re going to tell the story, the least they could do is get it right.”

Ashlyn sighed, “Will you guys please stop the act? It’s getting tiring and I still need to find my brother.” They had all started walking again while she read aloud, but they had a long way to go.

Robin nodded, “Of course, first things first. Let us find the boy. We will discover the mystery of the girl from a faraway land that no one has heard of who carries impossibly strange parchment containing wrongly remembered tales of our misadventures, later.” Will laughed at that and then they continued on in silence for a long while.

Finally Ashlyn turned to Will, “What’s your real name?” she asked, not wanting to play along with their fantasy any longer.

Will looked confused, “My name is Will. It is short for William, but everyone calls me Will.”

“Fine,” she said with a sigh. If they weren’t going to set aside their dream world, she guessed she would have to play along, at least until they found her brother.

The sky began to grow dark and the men started talking about setting up camp. Ashlyn was horrified, “I can’t leave my brother alone in the woods overnight again. He’s probably already terrified out of his mind.”

She turned her pleading gaze on Robin, who like Will claimed he was using his real name. “Please help me.”

Robin patted her arm, “We will help, but it is a long way still to the place where John found you. We must set up camp. If we leave at dawn, we should be able to get there before night falls tomorrow. He turned to Alan, “Will you take first watch?” Alan nodded and headed into the woods. Then he turned to John, “Perhaps you should scout ahead a bit, see if there is any sign of the slavers or the boy.” John nodded and headed off in the direction they had been heading. Robin then asked Will to gather wood and set up a fire saying that he would hunt down some dinner for the friar to cook up. Then he advised that she rest.

She sat leaning against a log watching Will stoke a fire, “Robin sure is bossy.” She said conversationally.

Will turned on her, his face contorted with anger, “He’s in charge. We are all loyal to him. Most of us owe him our lives and more.”

She flinched at his defensiveness, “Okay, I’m sorry.” She sighed and added, “Does he always tell everyone what to do?”

Will thought for a moment and then answered, “We all have our chores that we are better at. He only asks us to do them so that we continue to have a choice. The time that he doesn’t ask and only assumes we will do it, only then will our freedom be lost.”

She thought about that for a long time, these men really did have an old fashioned sense of loyalty. She liked it, she had always thought that modern men should be more like the heroes of legends, including Athyn’s favorite, Robin Hood.

Robin returned a while later, appearing to fade into existence as he stepped out of the trees. He carried a small buck, “Fate has smiled on us. Tonight we shall eat like the Prince.”

Will scoffed, “Where are the servants and the wine then?” he asked as he added another log to the fire.

Robin laughed, “Sorry, no wine tonight. Perhaps the good friar brought some of his hearty ale on this trip.”

The friar looked up guiltily, “Only a small flask Robin, I was saving it for…medical needs.”

Robin laughed, “All right friar, no need to fret. You can keep your ale.” Ashlyn wondered if they would ever tire of their act and start acting like normal guys. She surprised herself when she realized that she kind of hoped they wouldn’t.

The friar took the buck towards the sound of running water. “He’ll skin it down by the creek,” Will explained. “It makes it a little less messy, plus he can get water for the stew.” He added. Ashlyn dozed with Will sitting beside her. She was awakened by the sound of the friar calling out that the stew was finished. They ladled up stew into wooden bowls and Will brought one to her.

“No fork?” She asked. He just raised an eyebrow, “We’re not the Sheriff with all his finery. Drink the broth and then as the meat cools pick it up with your fingers.” He explained, demonstrating the first part with his own bowl.

Ashlyn was so hungry she didn’t even argue. She tipped the hot liquid into her mouth. The stew was actually quite good for not having any salt in it. The friar had added an assortment of herbs that gave the stew a bold taste. She found that she enjoyed it immensely. When she had finished her meal, Ashlyn stood and looked around, embarrassed. Will looked at her questioningly, “I need to…to relieve myself.” She explained blushing.

Robin chuckled and gestured, “There are a thousand trees to choose from my dear.” She stared back at him in shock.

Suddenly the depth of her predicament hit her. They were in the middle of the woods in England. There weren’t even any port-a-potties around. She sighed and headed for the trees, finally finding a secluded spot to do her business in.

She was disgusted and even more so when she realized there was no toilet paper so she would have to either drip dry or use leaves. When she finally returned to camp Will looked like he had been about ready to come after her. “I was beginning to worry.” She mumbled something in return and took her spot by the log. She was not about to discuss her difficulties with forest bathroom activities with him.

She snuggled down as well as she could against the log. ‘At least it’s a warm night,’ she thought. As she started to doze she noticed that Robin, where he lay against another log across the fire from her, seemed to fade into the log. She shook her head and looked again, he was gone.

She turned to Will, “Did you see that?” He had started to drift off to sleep, but he awoke when she spoke.

“What?” He asked.

She pointed at where Robin had been. “Robin, he just disappeared.”

He looked and then laughed, “Robin,” he called. “You’re scaring the girl.”

Robin appeared slowly in the same spot he’d been sitting. “Sorry, habit.”

Ashlyn just stared, “What? How?” Will laughed again. “He’s a shifter, like a human chameleon.” He shrugged, “Didn’t your stories mention that?”

She shook her head, “They said he had a talent for hiding amongst the trees, but they didn’t say anything about that.”

She looked at Will, “Are you a shifter too?”

Will shook his head, “Nah, I’m the normal one.” She shuddered, deciding against asking about the others. It felt like she was trapped in a bad dream that she just couldn’t get out of. She lay back once more and closed her eyes thinking of men who could change color to blend perfectly with their surroundings. “I wonder if he ever gets stepped on,” she wondered aloud.

Will barked a laugh, “Only once that I know of,” he answered.

Thinking of what a weird world this was turning out to be, Ashlyn finally let herself drift off.

* * *

When Athyn woke, his first thought was that he had fallen out of bed and hit his head again. Slowly, his senses began working one by one. The sounds of arguing men and the smell of pine crowded his consciousness. He began to remember what had happened. Cracking one eye open, he was assaulted as the bright light sent a sharp bolt of pain through his eye and into his brain.

Groaning, he forced his other eye open and looked around. A wave of seasickness washed over him as he realized that he was draped over one of the men’s shoulders. The up and down motion of the man’s steps was enough to make his stomach want to reject the strip of meat he’d so recently eaten.

As soon as the man realized he was awake, he set him roughly on his feet. “Good, you can walk now,” he grunted. He slipped his arms around Athyn’s waist. For a moment the boy thought he was giving him an awkward hug, but then he heard a metallic click and had the sinking realization that an iron band had just been locked around his stomach. He heard the sound of a heavy chain being dragged across metal. He looked down to see that he was on an iron leash.

Looking up with horror, he demanded, “What do you think you’re doing? This is kidnapping, you know.”

The men didn’t bother to answer him, but tugged on the chain until he had to take a step or fall on his face. Tugging on the iron band he realized with dread that it was just tight enough that it wouldn’t slip up over his chest or down around his hips. The pressure it put on his stomach combined with his growing fear made him feel like throwing up, but now that he had started walking, his kidnappers were continuously pulling him forward, so he couldn’t stop long enough to heave into the bushes.

“I said what are you doing? I’m an American, I know my rights.”

Athyn saw stars as the man that had been walking beside him backhanded him across the face, “slaves have no rights, boy,” The man growled.

Athyn’s cheek burned and he felt his stomach sink to his feet at the man’s words. ‘Slaves?’ he thought. He couldn’t be a slave, that wasn’t even legal. He wanted to yell at them that they should keep up with the law because slave trading was a big no-no, he was pretty sure. He suddenly wanted Ashlyn to be there so that he could ask if that applied to England too. Then he realized that he should be glad she wasn’t there or she might have been chained up too.

Afraid of being hit again, Athyn kept his mouth shut, walking along as quickly as he could, hoping and praying that they would soon reach civilization so he could use the phone and call the American Embassy or something. Slipping out of his jacket when the men weren’t looking, he dropped it into the bushes, hoping that it would help to lead Ashlyn to him; or if he somehow managed to escape, he could use it to help him get back to his sister.