What’s up readers!!!! I’ve got chapter 2 up and ready. Quick note, I literally slapped this thing together in two days and kind of skipped edits, so be prepared for grammatical errors and sentences that don’t make sense.
As always, let me know your thoughts in the comments below. Especially if you enjoyed it, so I know that I haven’t bored everyone and you still want to read more.
If you missed chapter 1, I HIGHLY recommend checking it out before continuing. Things are probably not going to make sense if you don’t.
The bald man reclined in a chair in a room beneath the massive monastery. He dressed himself in the robes of a typical monk. He almost reminded me of Friar Tuck, another man in my band, except for a tight frown chiseled onto his face. My attention rested on its highest alert. That’s why every move the man made that made his chair creak, annoyed me. It sounded like a chorus of frogs who couldn’t croak on key. The room was barely lit by a few candles here and there, who’s smoky smell overwhelmed me.
I cleared my throat. The man slightly looked up, then his gaze fell back to the pieces of parchment before him. How could he find that more interesting than me and Little John. I huffed, crossing my arms. I didn’t have the patience to play his crazy game again.
“Don’t you have people to rob,” the man remarked, his brown eyes still fixed on his papers.
“We’re not going through this.”
“If you ever listened to reason, we wouldn’t have to.”
“I’m not in the mood for small talk.”
The man finally lifted his eyes. They hid stories – tales not anywhere close to being as merry as those Will Stutely told. I opened my mouth right as, out of the corner of my eye, I saw some movement. Quickly, almost as a reflex, I drew the sword by my side and spun in the direction, aiming the intruder’s way.
The man laughed as a rat scurried by. “Someone’s jumpy.”
I kept my eyes fixed at where the rat had been until my heart slowly returned back to normal. Pull yourself together, Robyn. I didn’t need this man to see my insecurities and my fears that someone was always right on my heels, hunting me down. I couldn’t keep living like the prey! It was time to be the hunter.
I whipped the parchment I stole from that merchant two nights ago out of a pocket in my skirt and slammed it down on the rough table. The man eyed me for a long time before he moved to study the plans. His eyes grew wide, dashing through each word.
“What is this?” He furrowed his brows, moving to study me. But I wasn’t the thing that needed interpeting.
“All you need to know, is that it’s important for you to tell me what this says and don’t say a word about it to anyone.”
The man fell silent, tapping his chin as he went back and forth between the plans and me. He was wasting precious time!
“Clearly you haven’t heard about the new sheriff,” he said.
“Trust me, I’ve heard plenty.”
“I guess I thought you would’ve been smarter after what happened last time. Taylor doesn’t mess around. You should know that better than anyone, Robyn.”
I abruptly turned around, away from his eyes that always knew the right path to take. The one I rarely followed. Then, suddenly, a crash sounded! I shot my eyes upward, in the direction of the noise. Shouts came from outside and the sounds of swords being drawn out. Ready to strike whoever came in their path.
It wasn’t going to be me. Not today. I had other plans.
I turned to the man. “Did you send for them?”
The man eyed the ceiling like it would open up and the people making those sounds would fall through to attack us. “I’m not a fan of you or your stealing, but I think I dislike Calvin more.”
“Is that who’s out there?” Little John asked, who had been so quiet behind me, I had forgotten he stood back there.
I locked eyes with the man. Who else would it be but Calvin Talyor? Did that man not have a life outside of chasing me down? If I felt like talking, I would’ve walked into Nottingham Town.
“Go,” the man said. “When I get these papers translated, I’ll send them to you.”
I nodded. “Thank you.”
“Godspeed, Robyn. I pray in time, though, you’ll learn it’s not the law you’ve been running from.”
I grimly smiled. “It’s me. I don’t think I’ve ever ran from anything but the law.” Still, his cryptic words rang through my ears. One of these days, I planned to find him again and ask him what they meant.
“Find that thief!” a deep voice shouted from the rooms above this one. “She’s not getting away.”
I froze. That voice – I hadn’t heard it in a long time. I shoved away the memory of the last time I heard it, certain that’s what it would be – the last time. Yet, Calvin Taylor found me. I’m sure he wanted nothing more than to gain attention from those above him, like always. Which meant, the best way to succeed with his plan, was to capture the thief no one else could. Me. Robyn Hood.
Little John turned to move up the stairs, the only way out. My heart hammered hard against my chest, trying to burst free and make its escape in case I got caught. I turned around, studying the room. We couldn’t go up those stairs. Calvin would find us, and I doubted I had the skill to take down all of his men.
“Is there any other way out?” I turned to the man. Little John stopped at the base of the first step, waiting for me to follow.
The man nodded. “I forgot, but we have a tunnel beneath here that leads to the river. Come.”
I motioned for Little John to join me as I followed the man to the very back of the room. Shrouded in too many shadows for the candle in Little John’s hand to push away. The man nodded to the wall. I peered closer. What exactly was he wanting me to look at? Nothing stood there except the heavy stone used to build this place.
The man leaned down, and I realized he didn’t gesture to the wall. He opened a trap door. With the shadows and the lack of a handle, the trap door looked to be a part of the floor. Not my escape. The man offered his hand, but I ignored him, falling to the floor and slipping down through the opening. Six feet below, my boots landed on dirt. Little John followed, bringing the candle with him.
The sound of heavy boots and Calvin saying, “Where is she?” filled the space above me right as the door slammed shut. A gust of air hurled my way. I wrapped my arms around myself as our only source of light went out. In the dark, all I heard was the heavy sound of Little John’s breathing, the rough voice of Calvin Taylor demanding the man to answer him, and my own heart.
I turned to the misty, winding path before me. I took the first step, praying I moved fast enough to get away from Calvin. I wasn’t in the mood to face the past. Not yet.