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Will grunted as his eyes flicked across the page, reading all that had transpired, and what little information I had. When he was finished his eyes flew to mine, wide with alarm. I motioned for him to be quiet then took the letter from him, walked to the fireplace, and threw it into the flames. Flames consumed it until it was ash. I couldn’t leave any sort of trace even having written them I knew was dangerous.
I motioned for Brex to read her letter then engaged Will in conversation.
“I’m glad you’re doing better. I’ve been worried. And I missed you,” I told him with a genuine smile.
“I missed you too. Sorry I worried you,” he replied, playing along, thank goodness.
“I have complete faith that you’ll be your old self in no time,” I offered, ignoring the snort that Brex let out as she walked to the fire and tossed her letter into the flames.
Now that they both knew what was going on, and what I needed them to do, I went to the trunk that held my father’s bow and removed it. It settled in my hands, the feel of the wood against my palm so familiar and comforting. I ran my fingers along the string testing it and finding it just as supple as the day he gave it to me.
I’d been dealt a pretty bad hand thus far. Now it was time to dig a bit and get the information I needed, so I could play the game properly.
Pulling the hood of my cloak lower to cover my face, I hid my smile. I wore one of Brex’s dresses and had her wear one of mine with one of my well-worn cloaks to go about her duties as usual. If someone was following me, I hoped they would fall for our switch. Thankfully, Brex and I were around the same size and build. To the untrained eye it would work.
I stopped by the shop that made my dresses and handed the tailor one of the letters I’d penned earlier. This was a nondescript letter that ordered several dresses, a couple traveling outfits, and a couple outfits that were not fit for a lady. The order also contained some men's outfits for Will. It wasn’t a totally abnormal request but what was, was that I asked that the King be billed for it all. It was the least he could do.
Several more stops were on my way, doing my best to imitate what Brex would do on a normal outing for me. Lilies and daisies were ordered from the florist to be delivered to my rooms. They reminded me of home and Brex knew that. I also stopped by a tanner, asking fur to be sent to the seamstress for the new winter garments commissioned. A bow shop caught my attention but I didn’t linger, that would be a dead giveaway that I wasn’t Brex.
Visiting a small shop for a hot honey bun was next, before I headed for the tavern. The one where I first found Little John. As a military man, I hoped he was a creature of habit. Turned out he was. John was seated at a table, a large tankard in front of him along with a bowl of stew and a loaf of bread. I had sampled the stew last time I was here, and it left a lot to be desired.
I slipped through the late afternoon crowd, doing my best to go unnoticed. I’d say I succeeded when, John didn’t immediately notice that I had sat down at his table, or it could be the drink.
“Oy, can I help you?” he asked when he finally realized I was there.
“And here I thought you were a decorated soldier,” I huffed, not at all impressed.
“Ahhh, you’re the lass my gran sent to me.” John finally realized.
“If you have even a shred of care for me, you’ll refer to me as my handmaid,” I replied quietly, then slid my fourth and final letter across the worn table.
“Alright, lass.” He chuckled, grabbing my letter and breaking the seal.
“With discretion, please,” I pleaded, reaching across the table to place my hand on his wrist.
He squinted at me through the haze of smoke before his eyes seemed to clear and sharpen. With a firm nod, he unfolded the letter and began to read.
Watching the patrons as they went about their day, I glanced around the room. Some drank a tankard with their meal. A fiddler began a cheery tune, and barmaids swayed as they delivered the orders. When I turned back, I found John staring at the letter with eyes wide with alarm, and something else I couldn’t place.
As if feeling my gaze, he looked over the parchment, meeting my eyes and recognition gleamed in his. I opened my mouth to ask, but before I could, he lifted the letter to the flame of the nearest candle. He placed the burning parchment into his now empty bowl and watched it burn. Once it was ash, he returned his gaze to mine.
“You’re Arrow Loxley. Daughter of General Loxley,” he murmured, and I was briefly startled that he could make such a connection, until I realized I’d signed the letter with my full name.
“I am,” I confirmed in a whisper, after a brief pause.
“I worked directly under him. He’s a good man. A great man to many. I’m honored to meet you,” he said respectfully, low enough no one else would hear.
His statement made me smile. My father was the best man I’d ever known. I was proud to be his daughter and was determined to make him proud of me too.
“Will you help me?” I asked, interlocking my fingers together so I wouldn’t reach for him again.
“What that letter said is borderline treasonous,” he answered barely above a whisper, and I had to strain to hear him over the noise of the tavern.
“I understand. My plan has been put into motion already. I cannot be blinded to what is to come. Any information you can give me will be most welcome.”
“If you’re set on this, then I’ll do better by you and go with you. I’m due to go back to my unit soon anyway, me making preparations will not be suspicious. I’ll be ready,” he offered, and a part of me relaxed.
This was no longer just my burden to bear, but I wouldn’t forget his willingness to help me.
