I heard the sharp sound of a rapier being drawn behind me. That must be Scarlock. I didn’t turn. I wanted this to be a conversation, not a fight.

  Robbie turned around slowly. “You? You have met his highness, Prince Horace?” Her voice was very steady and conveyed both doubt and warning.

  “Um, yeah,” there was something about the tension in her jaw that made me pause. This wasn’t just Robin Hood’s dislike of the wealthy. Was Horace the bad guy in this storyline? Was he the Prince John? If so, who was the Sheriff of Nottingham?

  “Go on.” It was a command, not an invitation.

  “A group of friends and I …” I wasn’t sure how far back to explain of that story. Do I mention we killed a pirate boat full of men? Would that make Robbie upset? Would she identify with the pirates? No, probably not. They stole and murdered for that wealthy asshole. “My friends and I,” I started again. “Had been captured by pirates. We managed to take over their ship, but not knowing how to sail, we crashed landed.” Wait, did boats crash land or only planes? “Um, on a beach. And that was right where the prince was fighting an invading hoard of enormous insects.” I finished. That sounded very silly when said out loud.

  Looking around at the faces of those around me, they too found it a bit farfetched. “I swear to you that is what happened.”

  “Ok,” Robbie said, sounding entirely unconvinced. “You beached your ship at the sight of a battle. Then what?”

  “My friends and I … we are adventurers and joined in the fight to defend the kingdom.”

  “I take it you were victorious. Since you are standing here.” She said, with a small motion up and down at me with her hand.

  I guess we had been. They had left, and I had died. But none of the messages and said there were rampaging weta across the eastern lands or invading the capitol. I am sure someone would have mentioned that. “Yes, we were.”

  “Uhuh. So you met the prince, fought a monstrous scourge, and saved the kingdom.”

  Well, fuck, that sounded stupid when she said it like that.

  “And then after being such a boon to the royal family,” she continued, “you end up way out here in the hinterlands alone? No horse, dressed very simply, sleeping in a rough tent.”

  Now it sounded ludicrous.

  “Ah, ok I know it sounds farfetched. But I swear it is true. I would prove it to you if I could…” I couldn’t think of a way, however.

  “I am not sure why you would lie about this. Especially right now,” Robbie glanced around pointedly at packhorses laden down with stolen riches from said royal person. “But we do have a way you can prove it when we get back.”

  With that cryptic comment, she ignored me for the rest of the ride back. No one else spoke with me, and I could tell that Jack was keeping a closer eye on me. Though I was becoming quite fond of Shamoly — she was calm and a comfortable ride — I was aware that her thick and sturdy legs would be no match to outrun the finer horses that many of the others rode. Even if I could convince her to gallop.

  Dekka ran alongside us as we trotted through the forest and across the odd field. Eventually she got tired and let me put her back in the bag on the saddle. I had thought to let her sit behind me on the saddle, but the mare’s ears pinned when Dekka tried to stand on the mare’s bare back.

  Since I was being ignored, I sent messages to my friends.

  To Rose, I gave the most thorough explanation of my situation. I explained the oddly communist Robin Hood storyline, that I was a sort of hostage but was otherwise ok, and that we had just robbed the prince’s summer home. I even told her about how lavish it was compared to the simple and poor peasants.

  I sent an abbreviated version to Barry. I figured he and Rose would talk, but I didn’t want him to think I was ignoring him. To Ayerelia, I sent a message that I had been captured and that I had met someone who was even more committed to a theme than she was. And that it managed to be worse than sparkles.

  I really missed them. Even the elf.

  We were going to make camp for the night, as it was now pitch black in the forest. I have no idea how Shamoly could see where she was putting her hooves. We had just dismounted, and I was trying to walk some feeling back in my ass when a young boy came careening in at a dangerous pace bareback on a sturdy pony. “There are men tracking you!” he gasped out when he was brought before Robbie. “They stopped at our farm and asked if anyone had seen or heard anything.” He panted for breath. “Of course we said no. As soon as they left, my Da said to come warn you.”

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  “Everyone, mount up!” Robbie ordered. “Thank you, Tarn, isn’t it?” She asked the child.

  “Yes, Ms Robbie,” he said and gave a little bow.

  “None of that now, young man,” she admonished him. “Bow to no one, certainly not me. Jack,” she called to her man. “Do you think this pony can make the trip?”

  Jack walked over and ran his hands over the palomino pony. The small horse’s yellow coat was soaked, and steam rose off his flanks. His little nostrils were flared as he stood there, blowing and catching his breath. “Not safely.” Jack decided. “The game little guy has run his heart out for his young master here,” he said, nodding at the boy.

  “Take his halter off and turn him loose.”

  “But-“ protested the boy, tears already in his eyes.

  “You can ride double with me,” Robbie told him.

  The boy nodded but still protested, “But Flower is my responsibility.”

  “And that does you credit,” Robbie told him gently and lifted him up to set him on her stallion. “And I can see he is a brave pony. He will find his way back home. Probably snacking the whole way.” She smiled as the pony was already wandering away, taking mouthfuls of leaves as he strolled in the direction the boy had come in from.

  I mounted the ever patient Shamoly, who deserved many more apples than I had. We set a pace that made me worry about the horse’s breaking legs. We cantered and even galloped where the trees were thin enough that the moonlight let the horses see the trail, and let them catch their breath when we had to walk in darkest night.

  We made it back to the Oakfend with surprisingly few mishaps. Mostly scraped knees where riders hadn’t seen tree trunks in the dark. Their mounts knew how much space they needed between trees but didn’t account for their riders. One man had a concussion from a low hanging tree branch, but the rest of us were ok.

  Despite it being the wee hours of the morning, the town came to life when we rode in. Word spread that we might be followed, and that trouble was on its way. Fires were lit, and people came out and started unloading the horses and talking preparations with Robbie, Jack, and Scarlock.

  Shamoly was led away. I made the girl who took her promise to give her a handful of extra grain. She had looked after me well. I gave her a fond pat on the rump as she was led off.

  Robbie came over to me, the lines on her face looking deeper in the firelight. Everyone was tired. “Come with me.” It was an order, but there was no force behind the words. Dekka and I followed anyway. We walked in silence to what were her private quarters. “Mary, are you awake?” Robbie asked as she opened the door a crack.

  “Of course I am. I was just getting ready to come greet you. I wasn’t expecting you back so soon. Is everything-“ The beautiful woman I had met before came to the door, her voice cut off as she saw me.

  “Things are complicated,” Robbie said, then smiled, “as usual.” Then she sobered. “But we have a new … complication,” she looked at me and ushered me into her home.

  This cottage was very similar to all the other oddly standard medieval cottages I had been in. Open main room, though this one had fine weavings on the wall and a loom in the corner. Mary must have woven them, I realised. That wasn’t a peasant hobby.

  “Elizabeth here says she knows Prince Horace,” Robbie said, her voice hard to read.

  “Well, I said I met him…“ I equivocated. “I wouldn’t say I know him.”

  Mary’s back went stiff and her eyes narrowed. “You met the Prince?” Her tone was clear. Clear accusation.

  “Um yes. On a battlefield off to the east, near the capitol.”

  “Then what are you doing here?” Her voice was sharp, nothing like the soft, melodic voice she had been using before.

  “I was brought here against my will.” I pointed out getting annoyed. What was going on? I had made no claims on the gold. I hadn’t told them they were traitors to the crown or anything like that. “If you will remember, I was sleeping in my tent, minding my own business when your girlfriend’s goons dragged me here.” I said getting heated. Dekka gave a little growl in agreement.

  Mary closed her mouth. Changing her mind about what she was going to say next, and gave me a searching look. “Tell me then,” she said instead. “What colour are the prince’s eyes?”

  That took me aback. What colour were they? I tried to think back. They weren’t striking. Not in colour. I do remember thinking that they looked like they belonged in a much older face. They were light… so not brown. “I don’t remember exactly. Maybe blue?” I looked up at Mary. Then I narrowed my eyes. “Actually, now come to think of it, they looked a lot like yours.” Mary, now that she was angry and suspicious and her face harder than her usual soft expression, looked a lot like an older, more feminine version of the prince’s.

  She gave a curt nod. “You didn’t know that the prince’s sister was living with outlaws in the woods?” Again, her tone was accusatory.

  “No,” I answered simply. “I can’t say I even knew he had a sister. It didn’t come up as we were fighting for our lives.”

  “Is he taller or shorter than me?”

  I looked at her. I had been taller when I had last seen the prince. I was pretty sure she was taller. “He was shorter.” I said, hoping I was correct.

  She nodded. “Most people assume he is taller simply because he is a prince and princes must all be tall and handsome.”

  “Rude,” I said. And meant it.

  She gave me a smile. “Describe what the prince was like.”

  I did my best. Talking about how we had been eating, who was around us, and then what happened when the weta ambushed us.

  Mary turned to Robbie, “I believe her story of meeting my brother.”

  “Do you think that is all there is to it?” Robbie pursed her lips in concern.

  “I know you worry, darling, but I really don’t think my brother would send someone to drag me back to court. I know you don’t think highly of him, but he isn’t a cruel man. And he was a good brother.”

  Ah ha! I wasn’t alone in thinking he wasn’t just a generic bad person.

  Robbie let out a sigh. This clearly was not the first time this had been a topic of discussion between the women. “Ok but how do we explain how she is here, so far away and not with these ‘friends’ of hers?” Much to my annoyance, that was asked of Mary and not myself. Then again, how did I explain that I died and so was sent back to the middle of a circle of stones in the desolate dry plains? I kept my mouth shut.

  Before they could take it further or question me, a horn sounded. Then more horns.

  “Fuck.” For once that wasn’t me, it was Robbie. “We’ve been followed.” She looked over at me. “Time to choose a side.” She kissed Mary on the cheek and turned on her heel, running towards the sound of shouts that were coming from the village gates.

  Hope this week has been good to you all, and if you live somewhere where it is winter that you are staying warm <3