Robin continued to tear off large chunks of the hearty bread with her teeth as she and the reeve stepped to the side of theroad, allowing the captain and his horse to pass by. They stood and watched for several minutes as the rest of the mounted soldiers rode through, followed by another dozen men on foot.
As they disappeared down the left road, giving the village a wide berth, Robin waved a cheerful goodbye behind their backs.
When the last soldier was out of sight, Robin stood up straight. She lifted the ragged sleeve of her tunic and began to wipe at her face. “This paste is itching so badly I would not be surprised if it gave me an actual pox.”
The reeve exhaled a loud sigh of relief beside her. “Thank you, Lady Robin,” he said, turning to her. “I cannot believe that worked. Our food stores would not have survived feeding yet another group of Gareth’s men.”
Robin nodded in acknowledgment. “Hopefully, the story of the pox will spread and soldiers will avoid Berwell for a while.”
The baker, who had joined them, still carried several loaves of bread. Robin noted that they also had drops of berry juice staining them, seemingly from the baker’s pox-covered arms.
“Well planned, Robin,” he said.
“Well executed, Ulli,” she replied. “Shall we return this bread back to the village?”
“Please, take it yourselves,” the reeve said. “It is the least—or rather, the most—we can offer you.”
Robin smiled as she touched Alrud’s arm. “We are well fed. Your people need it more than we do.” She moved past him to walk toward the village. “Keep everyone inside for the rest of the day,” she advised. “My band should be done informing the surrounding farms to spread the story and feign illness should they need to.”
“Thank you, Robin,” the reeve repeated. “I do not know how we can ever repay you.”
“Your payment is not necessary,” Robin reassured him.
As they neared the village, the cracked doors opened and the timid villagers stepped out to greet Robin and Alrud. All of them wore some kind of makeshift disguise, like Robin, to help sell the story of their pox.
Even the young boy who ran toward Robin, waving a wooden sword, had berry stains on his face. Although, as he got closer, Robin realized the stains may not have been part of his disguise at all.
“Are they gone?” the boy asked, recklessly brandishing his sword in near proximity to Ulli. “Did you leave any for me to fight?” He sounded disappointed.
Reaching down, Robin wrapped her hands around the boy’s, gripping the hilt of his toy sword along with him. “We tricked them good this time,” she said, gently directing the boy’s flailing attacks away from Ulli, whose arms were so full of bread he had no way to protect his knees from a stray blow. “But let me show you some special attacks to use if they come back.”
“Yes!” The boy’s face lit up, and he tried to swing the sword harder under Robin’s grip.
Ulli followed the reeve into the bakery up ahead.
“Slow down,” Robin said, staying with the boy. “First, you have to prepare your blow.” She guided the boy’s elbow back, angling the sword at his side. “Then you swing.”
The boy’s next swing nearly hit the woman who was approaching them.
Robin guided the boy’s movement with her hands and gently released him off to the side as she stood to greet the woman.
“Thank you, Lady Robin,” the woman said. “At this point, I would rather face the Return of the Majis than feed and house another group of Chendas soldiers.”
“Just Robin,” Robin replied. “I am hardly a lady anymore.” Grinning, she pointed to her own pox-stained face.
“And you,” the woman said, grabbing the boy’s wrist, “will not be fighting any soldiers with that toy for several seasons yet.”
“But Robin said I could!” the boy protested.
Robin held up her hands in a gesture of surrender to the boy’s mother. “Sorry,” she mouthed.
The woman shook her head, clearly too relieved to actually be upset at the person who had saved their town. “No,” the woman said to her son as she led him down the street. “If the soldiers come back, we will play the sick game again that Lady Robin taught us.”
Robin turned toward the bakery, but Ulli appeared at the doorway before she could enter, having divested himself of the loaves of bread.
“Thank you again, Robin,” the reeve said, appearing behind Ulli.
“Remember to keep spreading the story,” Robin said. “What Gareth’s men lack in cleverness, they make up for in number. Hopefully they will avoid this hamlet for some time.”
