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I felt the weight of the world then, staring down at that hunk of wood. “But I . . . failed all of you.”
“No,” Friar Tuck said. “You tried something none of us were willing to try. You made an effort to help the Merry Men, despite the danger to you, Robin. Will is right: You’re the best of us. You deserve the staff.”
I blinked at him. Where was all this coming from? I was no leader. I had no experience. I wasn’t even a man!
But as I held that staff longer and longer, and the night dragged on, I steeled myself. In the typical, stubborn way I did, I started to think of what this meant—what I could do with a little bit of power to help the Merry Men in truth.
Not an idiotic, rigged tournament. Not little robberies that proved more dangerous than they were profitable.
Since the beginning, I had thought we needed to think bigger.
“What will you do, Robin?” Alan-a-Dale asked. “Will you take on this responsibility?”
I nodded quickly. “Only because you men have voted on it. If it’s the will of the Merry Men, I’ll do it.”
The men smiled, slapping each other on the backs, and let out a small ruckus of hoots and hollers.
“To think,” Will said, grinning mischievously, “the Merry Men . . . led by a woman.”
“A hooded woman, no less!” one man called out, drawing laughs. “Three cheers for Robin of the Hood!”
The laughter grew. It was the first laughter we’d had in days, and we desperately needed it. They chanted the phrase “Robin Hood,” because three syllables were easier to chant than “Robin of the Hood.”
I wasn’t sure I liked it.
Then Tuck said, “Onto the next order of business,” silencing the crowd with a waved hand. Despite me being the leader of this messy group, he was still the “chaplain” and elder. People listened when he spoke. I could learn a thing or two from Friar Tuck.
The friar stared into my eyes. “What would you have us do, little heathen?”
I swallowed hard.
“Aye,” Alan said, winking. “Speech!”
My cheeks flushed as the crew erupted in cheers.
This was all so new to me. I . . . didn’t know what to do.
But that’s not true, is it? I’ve known what to do this whole time, I just haven’t had the power to make my voice known.
Now, my voice would be heard.
So I stood. Holding the quarterstaff in my hands, pointing it at people around the campfire as I spoke.
“Little John is missing. Our leader is gone, and we have to find him. That is the first order of business.”
Everyone nodded.
“But,” I said, raising the staff, “we have to start thinking bigger. We need to do better.”
A few cocked heads at that one, with Tuck saying, “What do you have in mind, lass?”
“Helping the orphans is one thing, and it’s fantastic. We should keep doing that. But we need to help everyone.”
“That . . . doesn’t sound sustainable,” Will muttered.
“It is if we think smarter,” I repeated, smiling at his scowling, handsome face. “We can’t keep robbing these merchants and traveling families. It ruins our reputation. As I told you once, Will, the people of your father’s village don’t defer to you out of love, they do it out of fear. I want to change that.”
The men were all ears, sitting forward.
