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Blinking back to the present, a woman tugged at the garment in my hands, smiling. I let it go and she said, “You’re a dear. This will go well with—”
Landon smacked the garment from her hand, eliciting a sharp gasp from the woman. “Unhand that!” He raised his chin defiantly. “We won’t be taking the ill-gotten gains of bandits in Ravenshead. Not when the Sheriff is on our asses. It will only add to the toll we owe him.”
Ah. Now I understand. Sheriff George made everyone’s lives harder. Any deviation from the norm was considered suspicious. We were seen as the enemy. It didn’t help that the law painted us as the enemies, either, and these commoners had no other source to help them argue against that opinion. As far as they knew, we were bloodthirsty criminals.
And, to their credit, we had killed a bevy of corrupt guards recently. Only to defend ourselves, but they wouldn’t know or care about that fact.
“What has gotten into you, Landon?” the woman cried, tears welling in her eyes as she massaged her pained wrist. She took off running, out of the crowd.
I narrowed my eyes on him, voice lowering. “That wasn’t very kind, Landon.”
“Don’t talk to me like you know me, girl,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “We won’t be taking goods from any dubious thugs, only to owe a favor to you later. We aren’t stupid. Nothing comes free, and that includes charity.”
“You owe us nothing,” I said.
“That’s damned right.”
The women and children scattered behind their husbands and fathers, eyeing us suspiciously. Meanwhile, Will, Alan, and Tuck walked up beside me. Abruptly, lines were drawn.
This is not how this was supposed to go.
Friar Tuck said, “Please, sir, we wish no harm. I am a man of the cloth, you see, and can vouch for—”
“No man of the cloth would associate themselves with criminals like this bunch,” Landon snarled. “You’re no better than them, and have no standing here, friar.”
“Why does everyone make me want to kill them?” Will grumbled, loud enough for only our small group to hear. “I’m starting to think it’s not a me problem. It’s a them problem.”
Because we haven’t given them any reason to trust us, I thought.
It all came crashing down, painfully, as I stared into the proud, strong face of this stranger named Landon. A memory rushed back, spoken by my dear friend, handmaid Emma.
“Boys like Rosco have nothing but their pride and dignity. That’s all they can cling onto, so when they believe it’s been wounded, they get defensive. They’re so used to the gentry trampling them, that when honest goodness shows itself, they see underhanded mischief.”
It was a lesson well taught. After Emma found out I’d tried to gift the guttersnipes my winnings during a gamble, she made me understand these things from a perspective I’d never known. Rosco, Jimmy, and Tick—the boys in question—had been furious I’d give them my hard-won shillings like it was nothing. Like it meant nothing to me, when they had to fight so hard just to scrape by.
The way Landon stared at me now reminded me of those boys. The pride on their faces. The dignity I unintentionally harmed by trying to do something I thought was right—dignity being the one thing they still held onto when they had nothing but the clothes on their backs.
Emma’s words hit me hard. My faced blanched, and I said to my group, “Let’s go, boys. These fine folk are right.”
“Like hell they are!” said one of the Merry Men behind us. “They’re being hardheaded fools.”
Another scoffed, shrugging. “Fine. More for us. Didn’t want to be here anyway.”
“Good,” Landon shot back. “Then get out. We don’t want your ilk sullying our streets.”
With my heart sinking, my shoulders sagging, I pulled Will and the others away before things could escalate. I told Landon I was sorry for bringing unwanted trouble to Ravenhead’s doorstep. He only snorted in response.
We retreated to our horses and carriages with more than half the goods we were meant to hand out.
I learned another valuable lesson as I left Ravenshead with my head hung low: Community isn’t built through gifts alone. Not when the everyday townsfolk don’t trust us. We need to do something to gain their confidence and faith.
The people of this country are holding on by a thread. One wrong move will see everything unravel. Their families jailed, separated, or killed—especially if they’re seen associating with the Merry Men.
I couldn’t help but think as we left Ravenshead: Recruiting people to our efforts is going to be a lot harder than I imagined.
Chapter 12
Robin
