looks on their faces, more than made up for the unpleasant dinner she had suffered. A mischievous smile played on her face. Little did Robert know that the fun had only just started.
Just as expected, when the men counted the silver, they came up four bags short. The driver protested that he had been watching the back with his dagger out, and no one could have gotten past him. Sir Robert didn't believe it, and he was right to. But the driver stuck firmly to his story. He repeated it eight times, until the steward finally accepted it, if only to shut him up.
"It could've been a ghost," one of the soldiers said, surreptitiously crossing himself. "There's been talk like that in these parts. And the horse was spooked and all."
Evey's grin widened. She had been called "The Ghost of Sherwood" before.
At the sound of the word `ghost', Sir Robert's face paled visibly. Funny. She wouldn't have pegged the him as the superstitious type.
"A ghost that shoots arrows?" he asked.
His face gave him away. He was clearly trying to convince himself more than his men.
"Arrows that disappear," the other soldier said in a low, cautious tone.
The whole courtyard went silent for a long moment. When Sir Robert realized it, he quickly waved the men away, as though four bags of silver was a petty sum. Though she knew it was really to dispel the talk of ghosts, Evey wondered just how rich he was.
Come to think of it, other than being a tax collector, she didn't even know who he was. Was he just a knight who had landed a good job, or was he more? A baron, maybe, if he was that rich. But then again, most barons didn't go by 'sir'. He'd be Lord Robert, at the very least.
"Hello? Evelyne?" Her uncle stood at the bedroom door.
She slid the thin curtains open, pulled her knees up to her chin, and looked back out to the courtyard.
"You know, you can call me Evey. Everyone else does, except for Sir Afraid-of-Ghost-Robbers."
"Ah, you heard that, did you?"
"It happened ten feet from my window."
Emeric walked awkwardly into the center of the room. "Yes. Well, I wouldn't be surprised to find the silver on a certain driver's belt, if you get my meaning. But you know why I want to talk to you."
"I can make a guess," she said dryly.
"Sir Robert might be somewhat distasteful, but his son may not be too bad, and we aren't in a position to refuse an offer like his."
Evey gave him a look. "I wouldn't give great odds on that."
Emeric finally sat on a bench near the window. "Whatever the case, I'll do the best I can for you. But please, try to be courteous."
"No guarantees," she mumbled into her knees.
"Can you at least promise not to disappear while he's here?"
At that, Evey narrowed her eyes and glared. "If I have to."
"Thank you." He got up and headed for the door. "Believe me, I don't like this situation much more than you do. But the steward's son won't be here for a while. I'd say at least two weeks."
The last words would have been a simple statement to anyone else. She had never needed permission to run off before, but the fact that Emeric had even mentioned it was about as good as saying "I don't like Sir Robert either." Good thing her uncle had no idea what she got up to while roaming the woods.
Without bothering to use the door herself, she left the castle. The wall under her window was riddled with broken stone and weathered gaps that made it easy to climb safely to the ground. As she jogged across the courtyard she happily made the change from Evelyne the lady, to Evey the woodland shadow.
CHAPTER THREE
Evey crept around to the back of a small cottage on the village west end. Five kids lived there, and not one of them knew the meaning of "sit still". She smiled. A bit like herself as a kid. Actually, a bit like herself even now.
Because of the rampaging children, Evey had to watch for a while before she had a chance to get closer. Not that it was a problem. She had all night, and plenty of silver. It was worth it too, what with all
Just as expected, when the men counted the silver, they came up four bags short. The driver protested that he had been watching the back with his dagger out, and no one could have gotten past him. Sir Robert didn't believe it, and he was right to. But the driver stuck firmly to his story. He repeated it eight times, until the steward finally accepted it, if only to shut him up.
"It could've been a ghost," one of the soldiers said, surreptitiously crossing himself. "There's been talk like that in these parts. And the horse was spooked and all."
Evey's grin widened. She had been called "The Ghost of Sherwood" before.
At the sound of the word `ghost', Sir Robert's face paled visibly. Funny. She wouldn't have pegged the him as the superstitious type.
"A ghost that shoots arrows?" he asked.
His face gave him away. He was clearly trying to convince himself more than his men.
"Arrows that disappear," the other soldier said in a low, cautious tone.
The whole courtyard went silent for a long moment. When Sir Robert realized it, he quickly waved the men away, as though four bags of silver was a petty sum. Though she knew it was really to dispel the talk of ghosts, Evey wondered just how rich he was.
Come to think of it, other than being a tax collector, she didn't even know who he was. Was he just a knight who had landed a good job, or was he more? A baron, maybe, if he was that rich. But then again, most barons didn't go by 'sir'. He'd be Lord Robert, at the very least.
"Hello? Evelyne?" Her uncle stood at the bedroom door.
She slid the thin curtains open, pulled her knees up to her chin, and looked back out to the courtyard.
"You know, you can call me Evey. Everyone else does, except for Sir Afraid-of-Ghost-Robbers."
"Ah, you heard that, did you?"
"It happened ten feet from my window."
Emeric walked awkwardly into the center of the room. "Yes. Well, I wouldn't be surprised to find the silver on a certain driver's belt, if you get my meaning. But you know why I want to talk to you."
"I can make a guess," she said dryly.
"Sir Robert might be somewhat distasteful, but his son may not be too bad, and we aren't in a position to refuse an offer like his."
Evey gave him a look. "I wouldn't give great odds on that."
Emeric finally sat on a bench near the window. "Whatever the case, I'll do the best I can for you. But please, try to be courteous."
"No guarantees," she mumbled into her knees.
"Can you at least promise not to disappear while he's here?"
At that, Evey narrowed her eyes and glared. "If I have to."
"Thank you." He got up and headed for the door. "Believe me, I don't like this situation much more than you do. But the steward's son won't be here for a while. I'd say at least two weeks."
The last words would have been a simple statement to anyone else. She had never needed permission to run off before, but the fact that Emeric had even mentioned it was about as good as saying "I don't like Sir Robert either." Good thing her uncle had no idea what she got up to while roaming the woods.
Without bothering to use the door herself, she left the castle. The wall under her window was riddled with broken stone and weathered gaps that made it easy to climb safely to the ground. As she jogged across the courtyard she happily made the change from Evelyne the lady, to Evey the woodland shadow.
CHAPTER THREE
Evey crept around to the back of a small cottage on the village west end. Five kids lived there, and not one of them knew the meaning of "sit still". She smiled. A bit like herself as a kid. Actually, a bit like herself even now.
Because of the rampaging children, Evey had to watch for a while before she had a chance to get closer. Not that it was a problem. She had all night, and plenty of silver. It was worth it too, what with all
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