Jette, a middle-aged woman who could wield a mace better than any man, was also grinning, her arms crossed in front of her.
“The same rules apply,” Robin said, reminding them of her own raiding law. “No one gets seriously injured—on either side.” She absently slipped her fingers through the arrow shafts in her quiver. “We only take half the coin.”
“If it really is a Chendas noble from Gareth’s army, surely we can take all the gold this time,” Jette said cheerfully. “They have plenty more of it back at home.”
Lane and Nele, standing on either side of Jette, laughed. Even Ulli smiled.
“If we go back on our law, then nothing separates us from regular bandits,” Robin said, not swayed by her friend’s logic or the group’s excitement. “We discussed the plan in detail last night,” she continued, “but Rigelt was not present.”
She nodded at a thin man standing across from her. His face was tense, and he stood slightly outside the circle of the rest of the group. This was his first raid with the band.
“According to Nele’s sources,” Robin explained, “a Chendas noble will be traveling south on the Gulf Route tonight under cover of darkness. We will host a merry welcome for them just after the cutoff to Abbot’s Road where the forest is dense. We know that area well, and they do not.”
Around her, the group nodded their understanding. Ulli, Lane, Nele, Jette, Liam, Rigelt, and Brother Fletcher.
Robin stopped her explanation when her eyes landed on the older man wearing the hooded wool garb of a monk. He leaned against a tall walking staff, thick enough to both hold his considerable weight and act as a quarterstaff in a fight. “No,” she said. “You are staying here.”
“I know, I know,” Brother Fletcher replied. “But you are letting this old man go.” He stepped to the side, moving closer to Rigelt as he lifted a heavy hand and dropped it on the newcomer’s shoulder.
Rigelt, the “old” man in question, nearly stumbled. Despite the silver streaks that sparkled through his flaming red hair, he was still easily a generation younger than the monk.
“Your first raid ever,” Lane said, stepping forward to break the circle and put a hand on Rigelt’s other shoulder. “Do not let our complaining monk put you off. He is merely jealous at being replaced.”
Fletcher gasped loudly, taking back his hand to strike at his own chest.
A small smile flickered across Rigelt’s nervous face.
“No one here shall miss him,” Lane continued. “And since you have magic, I think we are getting the better end of this deal.”
Fletcher crossed his arms. “Cast-off,” he muttered to himself. “Useless. Not appreciated.”
Robin smiled, unperturbed by their antics. While she was respected and beloved by this unusual group of loyal bandits, she did not consider herself the glue that held them together.
No, it was Lane’s cheerful presence and Fletcher’s self-deprecating humor that brought everyone together, both during their ventures and outside of them.
Rigelt, a Majis from Istroya, had recently joined them at Lockwood. Robin had offered him food, shelter, and rest. In turn, he had requested to join her band. While Robin had noticed that her band was hesitant about his presence, she had not known what to do about it. Lane and Fletcher had obviously taken matters into their own hands.
Robin knew that their hesitation to welcome Rigelt did not come from his being a Majis. Every member of her band hadlong ago outgrown that prejudice. However, the six of them had spent years working together through every manner of dangerous venture and owed their lives to each other several times over. Bringing in someone new was a risk to how they operated.
“This should be a simple traveler’s raid,” Robin said, “like we have done many times before. I do not expect anything to go wrong, so it is the perfect opportunity for Rigelt to join us.”
Once again, the group nodded in understanding. They trusted her implicitly, but if they had any true concerns, no one would hesitate to voice them.
“Nele,” Robin said, bringing the conversation back to the plan at hand, “can you tell us everything you found out about this nobleman?”
Nele nodded, then lifted her head and spoke loud enough for everyone in the group to hear. “Lord Bugarun is traveling through Iseldis in secret to carry a message from Gareth to the Chendas soldiers at the monastery. His trading ships just docked in the port city, though, so he is traveling there first. To avoid notice, he will be traveling in an unmarked retinue as quickly as possible.”
Robin waited a moment to ensure that everyone had heard and understood Nele’s information. “Is everyone clear on their particular role?” she asked.
Another round of nods went around the group.
“And what is your role, Fletcher?” Robin asked, noting that he was still present and also nodding.
The monk’s shoulders fell. “To remain here,” he said, “and protect the manor.”
Robin sent him a small smile as she shook her head to herself. He had added that last bit on his own. “It will be a two-hour walk to Abbot’s Road. We cannot bring the horses on this one as we will need all the cover the forest can provide for us. Ifthe next venture is on horseback, we can keep Lane at home to protect the manor.”
Lane looked perfectly wounded at the jest. The bustling manor had more than enough inhabitants—both inside it and in the small village behind it—to protect it.
