"There's another beheading tomorrow," Neville said, walking into the hut.
I looked up from the carrot I was peeling. "There's always a beheading tomorrow."
Pearl was once a bustling trade town by the sea, but that was gone long before I was born. By the time I was found in a tiny raft floating in the sea, Pearl was an impoverished village known only for its public executions. Hangings were nothing unusual. Beheadings were a weekly event. Anything else was unusual, but the unusual was usual. Officials were nothing if not creative in their killing methods.
They always sent the damned here.
"It's a famous outlaw," he continued.
"I thought they hanged those." I continued focusing on the carrot.
He shrugged. "I thought so too. But she's a murderess."
I paused again and looked at him. "She? An outlaw woman being beheaded instead of hanged or burned? Who did she murder?"
Neville was the closest thing to a father I had. He never married, choosing instead to live on his own in the hut selling a spare room to travelers. That was until he found me mewling on the beach with a scrap of paper no one knew how to read. Even though I had long lost hope I'd ever find someone to read it, I kept it in a locket around my neck.
He completely changed when he saw me. Or that's what I heard. Refusing to let anyone take me from him. Eventually, the village mothers had to relent and let the tall, wrinkled innkeep adopt me.
He should have known how to mind his damned business, but once an innkeep. I couldn't think of him as a father. He was a brother in an old man's form. I never learned how to be a lady because he never saw the point in teaching me.
"You were born from the sea," Neville said. "And that is the beginning and the end."
Well, I'm assuming a couple of people fucked somewhere along the line. Babies don't just appear floating on rafts.
But he taught me how to sail the rivers near Pearl. How to lure fish to bring to our bellies and the market. How to make the best use out of our sheep.
And of course, what he always wanted to do was gossip.
"Robin Hood."
I dropped the knife. "Really?" I asked. "They caught her?"
Robin Hood killed the crown prince a year before, stabbing him in the heart, and, according to some, eating it. Although that rumor comes around with every noble killing. The crown prince had been alive for centuries. She killed someone who was never supposed to die.
"Why didn't you start with that?" I asked. "That's more important than-"
"I didn't realize you knew her."
"No, of course not. But who doesn't know of her?" I shook my head. "They want to behead her and ensure she dies. Flames. Witchcraft. Curses and fire. They don't want to take risks with her since she's already escaped before. They're usually more dramatic about this."
He opened his mouth and decided better than to argue. Until he says, "You scare me sometimes, Anne."
"And why is that?"
"You're always ten steps ahead of everyone. Always have been. I've never been able to catch up with you."
"I'm right here," I said.
A hard pounding sounded at the door. "Open up."
I rolled my eyes. "Must be another stolen goods check." I started towards the door, but Neville stopped me and pressed a finger to his lips. "Get under the bed," he whispered.
I looked at him, trying to convey the confusion I felt, but his sad eyes told me now wasn't the time. It never would be. "Neville, what did you do?" I mouthed, knowing there would be no answer. I nodded slowly and tiptoed to the bed before kneeling and rolling under it.
The door creaked open and I saw the silhouette of two soldiers. "Neville Aethelstan."
What the hell was that name? I wondered but clasped a hand over my mouth.
"You've been named as a co-conspirator for the assassination of Crown Prince Pyotr Lancastyr. Do you have any defense?"
Oh no, I thought. When they asked for a defense, it was a game. A game in which they knew there would be no winning. Neville...worked with Robin Hood? That was it then. He was trying to make me believe he didn't know her. That was why he brought up conspiracy theories.
"She let me up that easily, eh?" he asked.
The guards didn't respond.
Why did he not want me to know?
Because if all I told authorities was that he gossiped and nothing else, I wouldn't be implicated. That was why he did it.
The guards led Neville out, and I knew who I needed to find. But for now, I needed to be seen praying. I pulled my veil out, not bothering to plait my hair, and hurriedly walked to the cathedral.
I never really believed in God, but as soon as I knelt, I tried as hard as I could to speak to him.
I crossed myself as I stepped out of the pew.
To my annoyance, Thomas had sat right behind me. Upon seeing me come out of prayer, he stood quickly and blocked my way out of the cathedral. "You'll need someone, Anne."
He's shameless. In a place like this?
Thomas Kethelson had been begging Neville for my hand for awhile now. I kept telling Neville I didn't want to and Neville refused to marry me off. We were quite alright with our sheep and fishing for money. Making an arrangement with a blacksmith's son like Thomas would have been a good arrangement, but Neville never cared about setting me up as a wife.
Neville had been annoying me since we were children. He and his little group of friends once threw rocks at me while I bathed in the pond, making fun of my upbringing.
Then, one day, it was like Neville's view of me completely changed and he decided there was no one he wanted more in the world.
"For what?" I asked, feigning ignorance.
"To fight for you when Neville is gone," he said. "I can make sure they don't go after you. And you know they will, Anne."
I gazed up at Jesus, mentally asking for forgiveness for the words I was about to say. "This morning, brother. All I need is the Lord to save Neville." I looked back at Thomas. "He is still in prison. I'm sure he'll be released once it is clear he is innocent. For now, I need to tend to my flock."
Thomas finally stepped aside. "You'll need to go to a nunnery," he muttered, "If you don't marry and Neville dies."
Thank the Lord he couldn't see my eyes rolling as I walked away from him, not responding.
++++
I threw my cloak around me and walked into the night. The roads of Pearl were indistinguishable enough during the day. "Road" being a generous word for paths that were worn by footsteps in the mud and shit.
Later, I would find out that this was common for poor medieval villages. But when I walked them, I knew nothing different. Pearl would be nonexistent only a century later. Lost to time and erosion except for the fortress in the center.
In front of the fortress was a plaza. Two platforms stood in the center. On top of one, a block. On the other, a tall wooden "L." The sight was enough to strike dread in anyone's heart, but after living in Pearl my entire life, they were part of my life. I knew them like I knew the hearth and wells.
That night, however, I shuddered. Thinking of Neville. He didn't have a chance.
Why had Robin given him up?
I walked up the fortress steps and stood in front of the guards. The orange glow of the torches illuminated their faces. I recognized both of them. We didn't pass each other often, so I didn't know their names, but they would be easier to persuade than strangers. "I'd like to pass, please."
"Marianne," one of them said. "Go home. It is late."
"Neville was arrested," I said. "And was associated with Robin Hood. I can't speak to him before he's interrogated, so I'd like to see the woman who led him astray for myself. This will be my last chance." I wiped a fat fake tear from my eye. "Please. It took me so long to find the courage to come here."
I made sure to "accidentally" show as much of my breast as I could. This dress was a little too small, and that served me well for times like this. As I had found out in this moment.
They spent a long moment considering me. I was about ready to find another way to persuade them when finally one cleared his throat. "Only a moment."
I followed them inside and down the steps. Pearl's fortress went deep into the Earth. Every staircase led down to more cells.
But the condemned cell was a room to itself on the first layer, so we didn't need to travel down too many flights. To my relief. It was a single room halved by bars, so the condemned would need two keys to escape.
"I'll wait outside," the guard said. "She's dangerous. Stay away from the bars." He passed me the torch he was holding and left without another word.
I was terrified, but I didn't show it. I wanted Robin to have answers. To revoke what she said about Neville. For it to not be true.
All I saw of Robin was a silhouette framed by the moonlight coming from the top window. I set the torch in a holder and started towards the tiny wooden chair against the back wall.
"I wouldn't take that one," the shadow said. "It will break. No one sits in that one."
Her voice was unexpected. I thought her voice would be more mature or raspy. Instead, her voice was the sound of water trickling over rocks. Her velvet words seeped through my skin. I, at once, nearly forgot what I came for.
Dangerous. I reminded myself. This woman is dangerous.
I glanced around. There were no more chairs. "I'll stand then."
The shadow moved towards me, and my breath hitched. My heart slammed into my ribs. I hid my trembling by holding my hands inside my cloak. Slowly, the shadow took shape.
Her skin was light olive-toned brown—like Mediterranean sailors before they spent years under the sun, and her hair was long, sleek, and dark. Much like her eyes. Deep, dark almonds. She didn't look like someone about to die. She looked alive.
A moment passed before she broke into snickers. "I thought they sent food for final meals. Not-"
I felt my cheeks warm. "I'm not here for that. I'm here about Neville."
She tilted her head and raised an eyebrow. "He should be long gone by now."
"He was arrested. You turned him in. That's why I'm here."
A long silence passed. I heard her curse softly, but she looked back, her composure still present. "I can assure you I didn't."
"Then who did?"
The doomed woman reached for the bars.
"A pretty girl like you must have a name," she said with a wink.
Somehow, I sensed she had another reason for asking. Like she was trying to figure out if she could trust me. And even though I couldn't trust her, I found I wanted her to trust me.
I kneeled, making a point to look at her, unafraid, into her eyes. "Marianne."
"Neville's daughter of the sea," she said to herself. She analyzed the ground for a second before looking back at me. "He wrote to me about you. You have pretty eyes, Marianne. They're blue. Like Forget-Me-Nots."
"I need Neville out," I said. "I don't care about compliments."
She smiled as if this was the answer she hoped for. "What are you here for, then? I'm behind bars."
"You have to have," I said, realizing how ridiculous I was, "Acquaintances?"
Robin scrunched her eyebrows together and laughed. "I have those, yes."
"Can you get him out?"
"I can't get me out, darling."
I pulled the key I had swiped from my cloak. "I can."
She studied me. "You already planned to free me?"
"I don't know where he is, but you know the cells and-"
She stopped me. "What makes you think that?"
I didn't know, I realized. "I'm sorry. My emotion must have run away from-"
"Don't finish that sentence," she said, before reaching a small, slender hand from the bars. "Grab it," she ordered.
So, I did. My fear forgotten. Something about her calmed me.
She stroked my knuckle with her thumb, and I shivered. Her hands were so cold and I fought the urge to clasp them between my own.
"Don't release me," she said. "I already have plans."
Her eyes were sad, and she lifted my hand to her lips. "And I'm sorry for that, but meet me by the oldest oak in the forest tomorrow when the sun is highest. I'll explain then."
I pulled my hand away. "You have plans?"
She squeezed her eyes tight and stayed silent for a moment. "I did. But it seems someone thought their plan was better than mine." She opened her mouth to speak more, but decided against it. "I'm sorry, Marianne."
"You didn't offend me."
"I wasn't apologizing for that," she said, letting go. "You should go. Meet me, like you said. I'll explain then."
"You didn't kill him, did you?" I asked, standing up. "You're not a murderer. Why didn't you defend yourself?"
She smiled sadly. "You're always several steps ahead. I hope you never lose that."
On cue, the door opened and the guard stepped in. "Time to go."
I halted, remembering something she said, and turned. "Did you say Neville wrote to you?"
"Did I?" she asked. And I realized her affirmation would mean more evidence against him, so I didn't respond, and followed the guard out.
I should have known by then what would happen, I admit. But she fascinated me so much I couldn't think. Something about being involved in a conspiracy excited me. Although, it wouldn't excite me for long. I'd learn quickly that being involved wasn't a choice for anyone. Only nobles could choose a life of conspiracy and intrigue. For anyone else, life thrust them into it without mercy.
But my future was paved the moment I saw Robin's shadow. She never answered my question of who turned Neville in, but I knew the answer.
Neville turned himself in.
And he could read.
++++
I heard the bells in early morning and rose to get dressed.
Reader, I am certain you're asking several questions, the first of which is, "Well, what did you expect to happen?"
Panic eradicates our common sense, and this was the day I grew up and realized how much of a child I was to hope for anything other than what happened. This was the day I grew up.
I stationed myself at the back of the crowd. I am tall enough to see over most men, so I didn't feel like I needed to draw attention to myself in front of the block. I nervously rubbed my fingers together, expecting Robin to be brought out. It was clear something was wrong. The guards walked quicker than usual and glanced around as if searching for a sudden answer.
Robin was gone. I wasn't sure if she'd make her grand escape before reaching the block, or if she'd leave in the night. I had my answer.
The guards whispered amongst each other, and finally, one hobbled up the stairs to the block and said something to the executioner, who nodded in response and put down his ax before stepping down the platform. She was long gone. I exhaled in relief. There'd be no execution today.
A murmur rose amongst the crowd, and I turned to leave, but then a soldier walked up the platform and stood in the front. The confused whispers died down.
"Robin Hood escaped in the night," he started. Startled whispers filled the air. But he wasn't done. My heart stopped. My idiot mind finally put everything together. Why Robin apologized. Why Neville reported himself.
"We have, however, caught her conspirator. In the name of the Lord and our King Henry and Queen Eleanor, I sentence Neville Aethelstan to death where he will be hanged by the neck until near-dead, then cut down and dismembered. A similar fate will befall anyone found to be assisting or harboring Robin Hood. May God have mercy..."
I doubled over, bile filling my chest. I couldn't watch when Neville was led out of the prison, but I forced myself to look. I knew then I'd need to remember this. If I didn't, I'd never have the strength to leave my bed again. I knew if I gave myself compassion in that moment, I'd wallow in regrets. This way, I knew I'd have the image etched in my memory. I'd have that image to avenge him. At that moment, I forgave that he knew how to read my name.
For a final few seconds, I was Marianne, Neville's daughter of the sea. I would never be her again. What was on the paper didn't matter.
Neville's mouth moved, but I was too far to hear his last words. But his eyes fell on me, and he nodded slowly. I'll never know what he was giving me permission to do.
The executioner put the noose around his neck.
I opened my locket.
The seconds ticked by slowly.
I unfurled the tiny piece of parchment.
The stool was kicked from under Neville's feet.
I dropped the paper and squashed it into the ground. By the time Neville was being torn apart, I was already halfway to the old oak, dagger in hand.