The Brave One

Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Evera woke up lying on a worn, but comfortable mat. Her blanket that was drawn to her chin seemed to overheat instead of warm. She pulled her cover off and looked around Robin’s dwelling. Boots were huddled by the end of the bed, next to a few shirts and trousers. By the opposite wall, the room held a few other things, such as a basin of water to clean, a small sword, a belted sheath which lay beside its dagger, and a trunk filled with things Evera imagined was loot from their raids. The door was closed with a small plank in place to keep visitors out which suited the young Fae just fine. Finally, her eyes drifted to the form which lay on the floor.

Robin was curled in a ball, cold and asleep as most people were at this early hour. Evera was still getting used to the rising sun and bright mornings, so as soon as the sun would rise, so would she. She picked her patch worked blanket and placed it on his shivering arms. He was a good man for letting her sleep alone. He had fallen in love with another but when he had told his father this, his crude parent assumed he wished for someone to hold, not someone to love.

Evera felt poorly for her newfound friend. He was a true gentleman, living within the ill-mannered group. With their cruel humor and vulgar behavior, it was a wonder he had not become like his father.

The young girl walked the space of the room, pacing as Robin had done the night before. How was she to escape, find her bow and the Raven Necklace, free William and make it back to Morag before the week was up? She sighed in frustration. With William out of the way, she could escape right now and be long gone before the men were awake. She looked down at the sleeping gentleman. She smiled. If she would not have to return, she might have liked staying with him. He was quite handsome and he would make a fine fellow, but she must leave and quickly.

Robin woke up a while later, his hair in disarray. Evera wondered how their day would go, and what she was expected to do.

“Good morning, sir.”

“Mhmm.” Robin did not seem to love waking up from a night spent on the ground. “Good is a manner of perspective.” Evera laughed lightly at his jest.

He strode to his mat and folded his blanket. Evera walked over to the water bowl and wet her fingers. The cooled water felt wonderful on her neck, calming and awakening. She turned to see her captor strip his shirt and pull on another, exposing thick white scars on his back, crisscrossing and overlapping each other. Evera let out a small gasp. Robin faced Evera, a look of query on his face. With his body turned completely toward her, he saw how muscular he truly was. His arms were defined and smooth, his shoulders strong and virile, his chest powerful and fit.

“Are you okay?”

Evera could not find her words to speak so she simply nodded. Robin tilted his head and questioned her silently before cautiously turning towards his clothing and dressing. Evera gazed at his back once more before his shirt covered it from sight, wondering what crime he had committed to deserve such a punishment.

Robin crossed the hovel, past the girl and went to the wooden chest. He opened it and pulled out a long blue-grey shift, a muddy brown vest corset, and a white apron.

“Put these on. You will blend more with the other’s wives than the strange dressings you wear.” He tossed the clothes into her hands. Evera glanced down at the Morag gown. The bottom was filthy with dirt. Mud caked the tattered hem and the fabric was torn from yesterday’s fall. She brushed as much of the soil as she could off her dress. She looked wretched. She set down the clothing she held and started undressing. Robin stared blatantly, not used to the womanly figure. He turned trying to keep the little respect he had as red-cheeked, Evera turned herself around. She had forgotten Humans did not adhere to the same beliefs of free spirit and stripped rules as the Fae. Showing ankles was disgraceful, let alone the bare chest she had done in front of the man who stood behind her.

The shift fell to the ground, surprisingly the perfect length. She pulled the lacing in the back as best she could then tie on her apron. Her vest was fortunately corseted in the front. She wrenched the garment closed as best she could before tying the long string off. Nervously, she turned toward Robin, clearing her throat softly to let him know she was finished. He turned and chuckled, turning Evera’s calm into nerves.

The young man held his hand out. She laid his fingers gently on his palm, fear increasing her breaths. As he started to unlace the vest with his other hand, she smacked it away.

“What are you doing?” Evera’s eyebrows furrowed. She stepped back and almost tripped over the sword that rested on the ground. She would have fallen if not for Robin’s grasp on her back to keep her steady.

“I only meant to help. You have missed a few loops in the back and you have laced the front wrong.” He pointed out her down spiraling threading. The winding ribbons were common in Morag, another thing Humans differed with. His fingers pulled ruoghly at the laces. Robin seemed almost embarrassed to be helping a woman dress. Once the corset and smock were removed, he restrung the back of her shift. After all her mistakes were fixed and the vest laced up, --with an X-shaped lacing-- morning food and chores were well underway outside. As he was tying the apron as a finishing touch, he spoke.

“In all the surprise last night, I did not ask your name.”

“It is… Evera.” She turned to face him. He was looking down at her face with a smirk at hearing the strange name.

“It suits you well.”

Robin led Evera out into the morning air. The men were eating; a few now sharing seats with women whom Evera guessed were their wives or property. She was led to the circle of men of the night before. Most congratulated Robin by shaking hands and patting his back. Whatever it meant, Robin had done something to receive their approval. Evera did not wish to dwell on the subject.

The young Fae was given oatmeal, which she ate greedily and all too quickly, knotting her stomach a little while later. Robin took her around the campsite and showed her his home, telling stories of how some of the outlaw members came to be the bandits they were.

One couple had run away from their families hoping to elope. The woman’s mother had told everyone her daughter was kidnapped. No one believed the daughter’s word and so the two had not been able to face the town since. Another man was accused of thievery by a deceitful trader. The butcher would not buy his hunted meats for a reasonable price, so the man refused to sell. The tradesperson yelled to the village the man stole his meat and he too was cast out. Everyone’s stories were similar, though Evera suspected not all were the entire truth. Little by little, Robin told of himself and his father as he spoke to the other runaways.

From what she had gathered, Robin and his father used to be some sort of rich family, whether from nobility or middle class merchants, it was not clear. A prince had come across the family one night seeking shelter from rain, where upon the family refused him entrance for they had not known who it was they were speaking to and for having too much spirit to drink. The prince became very upset and ended having a terrible illness which almost took his life. The king, hearing what happened, removed the land from their possession and forced the town to watch their whippings before sending them to the dungeons. During the commotion of the whippings, their closest friends, who had never expected such a thing to happen to such a family, had created a distraction, confusing the guards and letting the family escape into the forest. Robin and his father had made it to the forest, though his mother and younger brother were not so fortunate.

Evera had presumed the hostility came with survival in the wood for they were very threatening. Men who had gone out to hunt came back with a considerable amount of game consiting of deer and pheseants. Bows and arrows were left behind and all that was taken with were clubs and rope. These men did not know how to respect the animals. Still, they said a prayer as they prepared the food for the night and some even played music. It was a dance filled and gay event.

William would be a perfect fit if he was not as stubborn as he was, thought Evera. The camp filled with refugees was filled with life and merriment and the young Fae enjoyed herself, forgetting her task and the last few days.