Outlaw Princess of Sherwood by Nancy Springer

the elegant pony. The rest of them had walked: Beau, Lionel, Rowan, Rook, Ettarde herself, and a few of Robin Hood’s men for an added measure of safety. They had been walking since the hour Ettarde had sent King Solon on his way. Etty had decided then, with her mother’s agreement and Robin Hood’s blessing, that it was better for her and her mother to be elsewhere in case King Solon managed to rally his men-at-arms and attempt to reclaim his wife and daughter.
    Etty had run to the rowan hollow first, to say goodbye to Rowan and Lionel and Rook, but the band had refused to be left behind. Now here they all stood at the outskirts of Celydon Manor.
    And Ettarde had to make yet another hard decision.
    Between what she wanted and what she knew she had to do.
    But there was no choice, really. Ettarde looked down at her own hands, her knuckles rough and her nails ragged from shelling hazelnuts and shooting arrows and digging wild parsnips and gathering firewood and playing at quarterstaffs with Rowan. Uncle Marcus would not approve of her hands any more than Mother did. Slowly, careful not to sigh, Etty slipped the thin silver ring off her finger.
    â€œNot for my sake, please, dear,” said her mother’s soft voice, like an angel’s, from above.
    Etty shook her head. “No.” Although in truth she was thinking partly of her mother, whose life had taken some hard turns of late. Etty considered that Mother deserved to have her daughter by her side when she entered Celydon castle to ask her brother, the lord, for aid and shelter. But Etty’s greater concern was for Rowan and Lionel and Rook and, yes, Beau. And Robin Hood. Ettarde knew quite well that, until she learned her father’s intentions, she must consider herself a danger to the others in her band and all the outlaws in the forest. Let Uncle Marcus bear the task of protecting her and dealing with Solon the Red.
    Etty knew what she had to do. Still, she could not quite help blinking back tears as she turned to Rowan and held out her strand of the silver ring.
    There was a murmur of dismay from the others. Rowan took a step back, exclaiming, “No, Etty, keep it.”
    â€œBut I want you to have it. Or give it to Beau.” Etty turned to the proud, dark-eyed girl, who wore brown leggings and a brown mantle with her crimson tunic now. “Let her take my place.”
    Rowan said, “No one can take your place. We’ll welcome Beau for her own sake . . . ” Rowan shot a questioning glance at Lionel. With only a single, appealing glance heavenward, he nodded. Rowan nodded back. “We’ll welcome Beau for her own sake if she wants to stay.” And Rowan, also, turned gravely to Beau.
    Overhead, the little brown tree-creeper birds twittered and drummed, but for once Beau seemed at a loss for words. Her mouth softened like a shy child’s, her eloquent eyes widened, and in their gaze Ettarde sensed a muddle of surprised emotion: joy, fear, doubt, longing. In that moment, Ettarde felt that Beau could have been her sister. She blurted, “Beau, your parents, your people—why did you run away?”
    The girl fixed her with her midnight gaze. “Because they beat me,” she said. “Always beat, beat, beat. To make me be silent and maidenly.”
    Lionel chuckled. “You? Silent?”
    Her sudden grin flashed. “You see! It is useless, non ?”
    â€œNo. I mean, yes.”
    Rowan pulled from her finger the three remaining strands of the puzzle ring that had been her mother’s, and separated one. “For Beau,” she said, offering it. “We are an outlaw band, Beau, and you will be a strand of the band. Without being silent and maidenly.”
    The outcast girl took it, saying nothing. Perhaps she could not speak. Etty noticed that her dark eyes swam liquid, like wells.
    â€œEtty, keep yours,” Rowan said. “You will always be one of us.”
    â€œI will