Robin: Lady of Legend (The Classic Adventures of the Girl Who Became Robin Hood) by R.M. ArceJaeger
Authors: R.M. ArceJaeger
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softer than anywhere else, but while a few of the other outlaws seemed to share her opinion, no one begrudged her the spot when she wanted to rest there, deferring the place to her out of respect.
It still surprised her, the people’s respect. She had not sought it, had not even noticed when it began to develop—first as simple admiration, and then altering slowly into a rare high regard.
It was clear to all in the camp that Robin was their best hunter—over the winter, she had brought in thrice the amount of game that anyone else had—and she had won the evening archery contests so often that she was eventually forbidden to compete. Those competitions had proved more effective than even Robin could have dreamed, and had affirmed to the others that her ideas were worth listening to.
It had begun simply, after yet another fight between men whose winter-worn tempers had snapped—this time resulting in a brawl so severe that two-thirds of the camp had been involved by its end. Robin had spent a sleepless night pondering how best to prevent another such squabble. The result was presented at the next camp convocation, where she had suggested holding a nightly competition, which would allow the people to display their prowess in archery, wrestling, or cudgeling, while at the same time releasing their pent-up energies.
“Why not?” had been the general consensus. “It is not like there is anything better to do.”
The resulting upswing in the camp’s mood had been as great as it was unexpected. After weeks of maddening monotony, the glade now rang in the evenings with laughter and cheers. Even better, now that the men had a valid outlet for their virility, they no longer felt the need to take their boredom out on each other. Tempers had improved, and to everyone’s pleasure, the number of unsanctioned fights plummeted to nearly zero.
Impressed by Robin’s ingenuity, the outlaws had begun coming to her for advice . . . much to her consternation and to David’s friendly amusement. Several even petitioned Robin to help them improve their archery, which she did gladly, showing them the tricks to smooth flight that she had discovered over the years. Soon even the worst of the archers found their aim beginning to steady, and as they started to triumph in the evenings against veteran bowmen, more and more people sought to join Robin’s lessons, until she found herself teaching half of the outlaws at once. Some of the men needed only a little refinement; some of them—contrary to the King’s law—had never even touched a bow before, let alone possessed one. For such men, her first lesson was simple: learn to make the weapon that could save an outlaw’s life. Only once their longbow had passed her examination did she permit them to enter group training.
The men’s regard for her archery skills was evident, but as anyone would have told her, archery was the least of the reasons they respected her. Without even knowing it, Robin had shown herself to be a leader that the people could esteem. During Mara’s crisis, she alone had kept her head when others felt helpless to act. When Thatch’s hut had caught on fire, her directives had kept the blaze from spreading, and when wolves had attacked Gary Ebbot, her composed commands had kept him from losing his life. And in spite of Robin’s initial misgivings about the people who now filled her once-private glade, the strong community they had formed gradually seduced her, until she could not imagine living without them. In community decisions, hers was a strong and influential voice, and whenever someone needed help, she did not balk at lending her aid.
So the outlaws liked her and respected her, and called her Robin o’ the Hood, because no one had ever seen her without that particular couture.
Robin o’ the Hood. I rather like it , she thought sleepily, settling more comfortably against the oak. It sounds . . . mysterious .
The warming sun and the friendly breeze
It still surprised her, the people’s respect. She had not sought it, had not even noticed when it began to develop—first as simple admiration, and then altering slowly into a rare high regard.
It was clear to all in the camp that Robin was their best hunter—over the winter, she had brought in thrice the amount of game that anyone else had—and she had won the evening archery contests so often that she was eventually forbidden to compete. Those competitions had proved more effective than even Robin could have dreamed, and had affirmed to the others that her ideas were worth listening to.
It had begun simply, after yet another fight between men whose winter-worn tempers had snapped—this time resulting in a brawl so severe that two-thirds of the camp had been involved by its end. Robin had spent a sleepless night pondering how best to prevent another such squabble. The result was presented at the next camp convocation, where she had suggested holding a nightly competition, which would allow the people to display their prowess in archery, wrestling, or cudgeling, while at the same time releasing their pent-up energies.
“Why not?” had been the general consensus. “It is not like there is anything better to do.”
The resulting upswing in the camp’s mood had been as great as it was unexpected. After weeks of maddening monotony, the glade now rang in the evenings with laughter and cheers. Even better, now that the men had a valid outlet for their virility, they no longer felt the need to take their boredom out on each other. Tempers had improved, and to everyone’s pleasure, the number of unsanctioned fights plummeted to nearly zero.
Impressed by Robin’s ingenuity, the outlaws had begun coming to her for advice . . . much to her consternation and to David’s friendly amusement. Several even petitioned Robin to help them improve their archery, which she did gladly, showing them the tricks to smooth flight that she had discovered over the years. Soon even the worst of the archers found their aim beginning to steady, and as they started to triumph in the evenings against veteran bowmen, more and more people sought to join Robin’s lessons, until she found herself teaching half of the outlaws at once. Some of the men needed only a little refinement; some of them—contrary to the King’s law—had never even touched a bow before, let alone possessed one. For such men, her first lesson was simple: learn to make the weapon that could save an outlaw’s life. Only once their longbow had passed her examination did she permit them to enter group training.
The men’s regard for her archery skills was evident, but as anyone would have told her, archery was the least of the reasons they respected her. Without even knowing it, Robin had shown herself to be a leader that the people could esteem. During Mara’s crisis, she alone had kept her head when others felt helpless to act. When Thatch’s hut had caught on fire, her directives had kept the blaze from spreading, and when wolves had attacked Gary Ebbot, her composed commands had kept him from losing his life. And in spite of Robin’s initial misgivings about the people who now filled her once-private glade, the strong community they had formed gradually seduced her, until she could not imagine living without them. In community decisions, hers was a strong and influential voice, and whenever someone needed help, she did not balk at lending her aid.
So the outlaws liked her and respected her, and called her Robin o’ the Hood, because no one had ever seen her without that particular couture.
Robin o’ the Hood. I rather like it , she thought sleepily, settling more comfortably against the oak. It sounds . . . mysterious .
The warming sun and the friendly breeze
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