The only exception was Edward Skippington. He stood apart from the others and listened to some final instructions from his father. His brother, John, joined the group after speaking with Master Blount.
It did not escape Robin’s eye that Master Blount had chosen his most outspoken opponents in the village. She could see that it hadn’t escaped the townspeople’s notice, either. They stood about the square, staring sullenly at the little group of recruits.
At least Master Blount did not accompany them when they finally left. They were led by a middle-aged man named Master Strike. His enthusiasm was wanting. He marched them to a camp surrounded by forest, eight miles out of town.
Four groups of other young men, each from a different village, made up the camp. Each group kept to itself, Robin noticed with relief. She hoped it would stay that way. If worse came to worse, and the boys from Charing Vale caught on to her, she figured she might have half a chance of explaining her situation. As it was, she tried to remain a little aloof from her comrades.
They bedded down, each village group huddling close to its own fire. Some older men came around and distributed bread and cheese. Robin, disgusted with Samuel’s efforts, took over building the fire. As she looked around, she smugly noted theirs burnt brighter than any of the others.
Later, after she slipped away to make a private pit stop, the quiet chill of the night and the brightness of the stars called her, and she paused, drinking in the peace. Then the sound of someone retching nearby startled her.
Going against her better judgment, Robin stepped through the brush. The sick person was young Edward. Concern took over and Robin went to him.
“Here, let me help,” she said, announcing herself.
Edward was too sick to notice. Robin slid one hand under Edward’s belly and held his forehead with the other. It didn’t last long.
“Thanks,” Edward gasped.
“You need some water,” Robin returned and grabbed for the horn at Edward’s belt.
He drew back. “That’s a powder horn.”
“Oh. Sorry.” Robin noticed the two pistols stuck in Edward’s belt for the first time.
Edward suddenly giggled. “It figures. How come when you make water, you don’t bank it up against a tree like the other boys?”
Robin gaped. “What?”
“You pee like a woman, Mistress Robin.”
“I take exception to that.” Robin got a fistfull of Edward’s shirt.
“Oh, who cares.” Edward walked out of Robin’s grasp. “I’m certainly the last person to tell anyone.”
Edward pushed through the small grove. “Come on. We’ve got to get back to camp. They’ll think we’ve deserted if we don’t get back soon, and that would be unpleasant.”
Robin sighed, and followed. Edward knowing her secret made her nervous, and even more irritated at being found out so quickly. Robin debated ways to talk her way around it. But ultimately, there was nothing to be done, except hope Edward would not take advantage of the situation for his own profit or pleasure.
The others were still awake when they arrived. They sat around the fire talking softly.
“Are you sure it’s the same time every night?” Samuel asked John.
“Close enough,” John replied. “As if it made any difference.”
“That’s all I need.” Samuel was not happy. “Does your father know?”
“Of course. He and yours were already drawing up the contract.”
“It looks like you’re for it, Sam,” chuckled Robert.
“A hell of a lot sooner than I wanted,” sighed Samuel. “But this makes for a more immediate problem, you guys know.” The boys all looked at Edward. “You were sick back there, weren’t you?”
“It was probably just food poisoning,” volunteered Robin. “He seems alright now.”
There was a collective sigh from the group.
“I always am,” said Edward simply. “At least so far.”
“You mean this has happened before?” asked Robin.
“Well, just for the past two weeks,” Edward replied. “I don’t know why I always throw up dinner. Mother said she was always sick in the mornings. But then, she says it’s different with everyone.”
“What’s wrong with you?” Robin asked.
“Nothing’s wrong.” Edward laughed. “I’m with child.”
Robin laughed also. “That’s one hell of a draft dodge.”
She stopped laughing as the others looked at her. She looked at Edward closely. The features that had only seemed effeminate were suddenly very much so.
“Perhaps we’ve said too much,” said John quietly.
“Why shouldn’t he know?” demanded Samuel. “He’s one of us.”
“Besides,” Edward giggled. “I was right about him, or should I say her? I caught him red-handed.”
Samuel burst into laughter as he and the others began to see the truth also. Robin poised herself for action and glared at Edward.
“I thought you said you weren’t going to tell anyone,” Robin snarled.
“What are you afraid of?” Samuel asked her. “We’re not going to give you away. Don’t you trust your own townsmen?”
“I, I don’t know that I should,” Robin replied.
“Well, if we’re not going to give Edward away,” Samuel said. “We certainly won’t give you away. It’s damned inconvenient is all, another female to protect.”
“I can take care of myself,” Robin replied indignantly.
“Edward’s the same way,” sighed Charles.
“So what is your reason?” Samuel asked. “Edward, here, is hiding from Master Blount.”
“My brother and I were driven off my father’s land,” Robin explained. “A greedy baron took over, killing our father and our cousin’s as well. Since I’m so tall, we thought it would be safer if there were only one woman in the party. After that, things just fell out the way they did.”
“They’ve fallen out rather poorly for you at the moment,” sighed Samuel. “And for Edward. So far we’ve been able to stay together and keep the others from finding out. But what if they put us into separate companies? You’ll never be able to get away with it among strangers.”
“There’s always the possibility of desertion,” Robin suggested.
“But which one of you men can we spare?” Samuel pondered.
“For what?” asked Robin. “To escort us home? I hardly think it’s necessary. May I remind you who runs the inn? It’s not my brother.”
“Robin is known for being exceptionally quick-witted,” Robert put in.
“Perhaps she could share one of the pistols,” John suggested. “I don’t mind teaching them both.”
“It would be a good idea, in any case,” agreed Samuel. “But we’ve got to figure out a way to get them out of here.”
“Why don’t we wait a few days?” Robin said. “We’re a little close to home at the moment. Besides, won’t they know to look for us there?”
“Edward will return as a woman,” Samuel replied. “That’s all arranged anyway. I suppose you could do the same.”
“I suppose,” Robin sighed.
“I know,” grumbled Edward. “Who wants to go back to being a woman? You don’t get to do anything.”
“You won’t have any choice in a couple months,” retorted Samuel. “I think it’s about time anyway. I’m tired of making it with someone dressed like me.”
“Not tired enough,” sniggered Richard.
Samuel glared at him while Robin smiled to herself.
As Robin bedded down, she thought about the new alternative presented to her. Returning as a woman would leave open the option for remaining in Charing Vale. It sounded attractive, at least remaining in the village did. Robin shared Edward’s chagrin at returning to the feminine state. Women at that time had no rights and were little more than chattel.
Then there was the problem of Elizabeth. Robin had a feeling she knew why Dean was so anxious for all three of them to return home. Even though she tried, Robin couldn’t close her eyes to the obvious attraction between the two. She only hoped Dean was using his head and behaving responsibly.
It was still a complication Robin hadn’t bargained on. Elizabeth was definitely terrified of returning to the twentieth century. Dean was equally determined to do so. Of the two, Dean stood a much better chance of surviving the seventeenth century than Elizabeth did of surviving the twentieth. But if he stayed, how would Robin explain his disappearance to their parents? At least Elizabeth didn’t have that factor to confront. On the other hand, how were Dean and Robin going to explain Elizabeth’s sudden existence?
The possibility of breaking the two up flashed across Robin’s mind. She dismissed the notion. Somehow, Robin just couldn’t do it. Her own failures made her
just that much more determined to make sure no one else’s attempts fell apart.
But how to explain Elizabeth? Getting her identification wouldn’t be all that hard – Robin even knew someone who could get Elizabeth a legitimate Social Security Card under the table. But Robin could see other problems, mostly with her mother.
Elizabeth’s virtuous obedience would appear as a very tempting inferiority complex to Mom. Then there might be problems if Elizabeth said something just a little bit wrong and Mom questioned the girl’s ability to distinguish fantasy from reality. Mom was big on objective reality.
It was unfortunate, Robin thought, that her mother only accepted the possible as a necessary evil. One had to have imagination, she conceded, otherwise one could never have new ideas or inventions. But one could get too wrapped up in dreams and that sort of thing bordered on instability.
As Robin drifted closer to sleep, she found herself wondering if that had been the problem between her parents all along. Her father had always been anything but practical. Reality for him included all the possibilities his fertile mind could create. Admittedly, his only interest in fantasy was where speculation went on from knowledge. Robin had always felt closer to her father than to her mother. Perhaps it was because they had that sort of thinking in common.
No nearer to solving her problem, Robin drifted off to sleep.
The next morning they were awakened early. Roll call was taken first thing. Two boys from one of the neighboring villages were missing. A message was sent to Master Blount to have them apprehended and flogged. After a small breakfast of hard bread, the new recruits were on their way. They walked steadily until noon, when they were given a two hour break and permission to hunt game.
Robin heard several gun reports as they ate.
“We’d best hurry,” grumbled John. “The others will get all the game, and we won’t have meat tonight.”
“You’re going to teach us to shoot now?” Edward asked.
John sighed. “I suppose so. Edward, give Robin one of your pistols and a powder horn and shot bag.” Edward did so. “Now, these are German guns. They were my grandfather’s. How he got them, we’ll never know. Now, Robin, note the spanner is attached to the powder horn. Never undo it, or you can’t wind the gun and it won’t work unless it’s wound. The first thing you two have to look over is the lock. This here is the wheel. The spanner goes through this hole here to wind it. You can feel it catch. Don’t do it now! Never wind the wheel until the gun is loaded. You can blow your head off that way. Alright, make sure the doghead is laying flat at all times until you’re ready to shoot. Now, this is the flashpan cover, you push that back with your thumb like so, and press this button to release it. Back to the doghead. This piece here in the clamp is called pyrites. Edward, give Robin half of yours. You must make sure there aren’t any cracks in the pyrites, or that it isn’t sticking out too far in the clamp. It should look just like that.” John demonstrated on Robin’s pistol. “Alright, you two tell me what parts are what.”
After John was satisfied that the two women knew the parts of the pistols, he went on to explain the process of loading, tamping, winding and shooting. The shooting itself involved a great deal of stalking to find the game, for even if one was lucky enough to get the gun to shoot, its accuracy could not be counted on for targets over twenty yards away. Worse still, the guns were very old and finicky, in spite of the good care they’d received.
John first had the women shoot at targets on trees. Robin stood with her feet squarely planted, her arms outstretched, both hands on the pistol, ready to absorb the kick. Edward tried to imitate the casual attitude of her father and brother, and got knocked on her seat. John helped her up.
“See how Robin stands?” he told her. “And use a little less powder this time.”
They didn’t have time to try for any game that day. The others anticipated that and had provided. There were two rabbits and a quail. These were presented to Robin and Edward that evening for them to clean.
“I’ll get the water and build the fire,” Robin volunteered, hoping Edward would have the animals cleaned before she finished.
As Robin stalled about her tasks, she watched Edward at hers. Robin knew her lack of knowledge of womanly duties could get her into almost as much trouble as letting the whole camp know she was a woman. Edward proved adept at feathering the quail. Robin still had to clean one of the rabbits. She was awkward at best.
“It’s been a long time,” she explained to Edward.
Edward just shrugged and showed Robin how it was done.
The next day at the lunch break, John took Edward and Robin stalking. The pistols were loaded and ready, and had been since the day before. John had insisted that the women carry the pistols loaded, just in case.
The first few attempts failed. Either the fowl were too far away, or they scattered and broke for the air at the wrong moment, or (and Robin had to admit this was the most likely) the two women had lousy aim.
Then Edward caught the tail feathers of a grouse. Robin stalked up on another, aimed the pistol and pulled the trigger. Instead of the familiar quick whir, nothing happened. The grouse took flight. Robin turned the gun to look at it. The pistol went off. Robin yelped as the bird tumbled to the ground. John laughed. Robin looked at the dead bird.
“I’ll be damned,” she muttered. “I wonder what the odds were of that happening?”
“Who knows?” said John. He came over with the bird. “I shouldn’t like to bet on it. But I think I know what caused it.” He took the pistol and looked over the wheel. “It’s fouled, alright. You’ve got to clean the wheel part out every so often. The pyrites crumble into it and jam it. Edward, here! You need to see this too.”
That night Robin got her first lesson in cleaning fowl, and a lot of teasing from the boys on her first catch.
“And how many of you know how to shoot pistols?” Edward retorted.
“Let them tease,” Robin said. “They’d just better remember that my brother isn’t the only one capable of throwing drunks out of inns, and that he had help the night Blount’s men came to visit.”
The boys roared with laughter. But Robin noted with no small amusement that they slowed their teasing down.
“It’s strange,” Samuel confessed as they sat around the fire that night. “That I should find such good friends in two women. Then again, both of you have the hearts and minds of men. I never thought I’d like that in a woman.”
Robin smiled. “Most men don’t. I think it takes an exceptionally perceptive man to realize that a woman is more interesting that way.”
The others shrugged. The more Robin thought about it, the more she realized just how much women had achieved in her century, and how amazing it was that they had achieved it in so short a time. That men’s attitudes had changed as much as they had was no small thing. That attitudes still had a long way to go didn’t seem to mean as much. It would take patience. There were centuries to overcome, and Robin suddenly felt just how many.
They joined the rest of the Earl’s army late Friday afternoon. In the much larger group, the smaller village groups hung together that much closer. Little was done that afternoon beyond setting up a more permanent camp.
The next day the training started. After roll call, each village group was called away by one of three officers to see what each individual could do. The unoccupied groups stood around, waiting, hunting and starting small skirmishes amongst themselves to relieve the boredom and the tension.
The evaluations took the better part of the day.
“There’s a rumor they’re going to split us into different companies Monday,” Samuel said that evening as they sat around the fire.
“That’s not surprising,” Robin returned. “I’ll bet I can tell who’s going to get put where.”
“What do you mean?” asked Charles.
“It’s simple,” said Robin. “First, they wrote down what weapons each of us had, then they watched us drill with them. Edward and I will probably go to a musket company, Samuel will end up in a cavalry unit, since he knows horses, the rest of you will go to the pike units. They’re going to keep us as split up as possible to avoid conflicting loyalties.”
“I don’t want to go to a pike company,” grumbled Robert.
“A musket company is more dangerous,” said Robin. “We only get one shot at a time, and loading those guns takes forever. Samuel’s probably in the best position of any of us.”
“The cavalry’s no guarantee he won’t get hurt,” said Edward.
“True, but Samuel’s going to be support, probably a stable boy, or something like that,” replied Robin. “Because he hasn’t got a horse, he won’t end up on the lines.”
“The problem is,” said Samuel. “Is if we are split up, how are we going to keep Edward and Robin out of trouble?”
“Fear not,” said Robin. “I’ve got everything under control.”
“Are you sure?” asked Samuel.
Robin glared at him. “I am essentially the same person I was a week ago. You would have taken my word for it then, why can’t you now?”
“Because, well…” Samuel sighed. Even with his archaic attitude, he had to admit Robin had a very good point. But trusting women just wasn’t in his cultural mode of thinking.
Robin shook her head. The next day there was roll call, then church service. At the end of the service, Robin slipped up next to Edward and pushed her along. The others were following them back to camp at a more leisurely pace.
“What?” asked Edward, bewildered.
“We’re leaving.” said Robin.
“Here. We’re going home.”
“On the Sabbath?”
“It’s our best chance. No one will know we’re gone until tomorrow morning. We’ll have a half day’s lead on them, at least. If we wait any longer, we’ll get put into other companies, and I don’t think I need to tell you the risks of that. Let’s hurry. I want to be gone before the others get back.”
“But we have to say goodbye.”
“We can’t. If they don’t know we’re leaving, then they can honestly say they didn’t know we were going to.”
Edward sighed, but followed Robin’s lead. They already had their cloaks, gloves and pistols with them, so there was no need to stop at the camp. They walked quickly, but quietly through the brush and then into the open farmland. Robin made a point of following the road but staying off it. Grumbling, Edward followed.
That evening they stumbled on a camp of itinerant farm workers. The workers invited the two travelers to share their meager soup, which Robin and Edward accepted with thanks. They bedded down with the group. Robin got up before dawn and woke Edward.
“Come on,” Robin whispered. “We’re leaving.”
“Why now?” Edward yawned.
“I want to get some distance between us and them before the army finds out we’ve been here. Besides, they might have figured out we’re deserters, and that means we’re a source of income for them. They won’t let us get away that easily if that’s the case.”
Edward shrugged and hurried after.
The day was cold and overcast. Late that afternoon, it started to rain. Robin left the cover of the forest for the road as they approached a small town.
“We’ll stay at the inn tonight,” Robin told Edward.
“Isn’t that dangerous?”
“Perhaps. But would two fugitives risk it? I think not. Besides, we wouldn’t have the money to.”
Edward’s eyes grew wide. “You mean we do?”
“I won’t say how much, but I generally have more means than it appears. If you look poor, people are less likely to attack you.”
Edward nodded. She was nervous, but imitated Robin’s confident manner. At the inn, Robin paid for a single room for the two of them and a modest meal. Shortly after they ate, Edward retired to the inn yard to have her evening sick session. Robin waited for her in the best room, then decided the two would go to their room right away.
“No sense in pressing our luck,” she told Edward as she shut the door.
“It would have been fun,” sighed Edward. “That’ll be the worst part of going back to being a woman. No more nights at the inn. At least you’ll be able to tap still.”
Robin shrugged. “I don’t know what’s going to happen when we get back.”
“You don’t want to go back to being a woman, either.”
“Of course not. The very idea of relying on my brother for his protection fills me with revulsion.”
Edward grinned. “Perhaps it was a good thing you had to disguise yourself. You’re too smart to be a woman.”
“Sh!” Robin stared at a part of the wall near the floor. “Damn!” she hissed. “There’s a hole there. I wonder who’s on the other side.”
“You think he could have heard us?” Edward was frightened.
“He could have. We’d better not say any more about it, or anything else we don’t want people to know. We’ll keep watch tonight.”
Edward nodded. “I’ll take the first look out.”
“Thanks. I’ll turn in now. Goodnight.”
They left early again the next day. It was a long morning and still wet from the day before. Both Robin and Edward stumbled several times through the slippery ruts in the road.
Close to noon, Robin decided they should do a little hunting to get their lunch.
“And how will we cook it?” Edward asked. “The wood is too wet to build a fire.”
“I can get a fire going anytime I want,” Robin replied, smugly.
“Excuse me.” said a strange voice.
Robin and Edward stared into a toothless grin surrounded by a graying two day old beard. It was all connected to a bent over man, with stringy shoulder length hair and filthy disarranged clothes.
“Can I help you?” asked Robin cautiously.
“Perhaps I can help you,” replied the man. “You wanted some meat?”
“Well, lunch,” said Robin.
“Very good,” he said. “It seems we are well met. Would you care to share my lunch with me? Save yourself the trouble of building a fire.”
“It’s not necessary,” Robin shifted.
There was something about the man that tripped all of her internal alarms. But because she couldn’t put her finger on anything specific, she decided against snubbing his offer. No sense in pissing him off, especially when he might run into soldiers looking for deserters in the near future.
“It’s my pleasure.” The man bowed prettily. “Come be my guests. I am called Henry. I am a lonely peddler. I don’t often get companionship as I travel.”
He gave them plenty of cheese and bread for lunch, and even some fair porter. Robin was amazed he carried the small cask, as well as all his wares, on his back.
“You like my wares?” Henry asked, as he packed up after the meal. “I’ve some beautiful silk.”
He showed them a part of the bright red cloth. Fabrics had never interested Robin in the least. Edward had been playing boy for so long, she didn’t have much interest, either, and resented anything that smacked of the life she was returning to. Robin did wonder a little about how a poor peddler got his hands on such an obviously rich fabric.
Nonetheless, she accepted the peddler’s invitation to travel with him. They made good time, but by the time darkness approached, they were still miles from any village.
They bedded down on the edge of the road under the hedge of a nearby field. Robin slept fitfully that night. She guessed it was close to one a.m. when she heard a strangled squeak from Edward’s direction. She turned.
Henry had gagged Edward and was binding her hands. He looked at Robin and laughed.
“I wouldn’t try anything.” Henry said. He whipped out a knife and placed it against Edward’s throat.
Robin stood slowly. “What do you want?”
“Anything I can get.” One-handed, Henry finished tying Edward and tied the other end of the rope to a tree. “I do want you to step over here.”
Robin did as he commanded. In an instant, Henry had the knife at her throat instead of Edward’s. Robin stiffened as he grabbed her crotch and explored.
“I thought I heard you two right,” he said, grinning. “You were overheard in the inn, you know. I wasn’t quite sure I’d heard correctly when I first saw you. You are rather large for a woman.” His free hand reached inside her shirt. “I am a very lonely man.”
“Why didn’t you just ask?” Robin returned.
Henry seemed startled, but didn’t remove the knife.
“I mean it,” Robin continued. “It’s been very lonely for me too, for obvious reasons.” Her hands crept up along his chest. “I could be very good to you, if you’ll put down the knife.”
Henry chuckled. “I’m not going to fall for that.”
Robin licked her lips with the edge of her tongue. “Are you sure?”
The knife edged away. Robin’s hand shot up and the knuckles of her two forefingers landed in his eyes. Henry cringed. Robin socked him in the stomach. Grabbing her pistol, she brought it down butt first into the back of his neck. The gun went off. Startled, Robin nearly dropped it as Henry fell unconscious at her feet.
A few seconds later, Edward’s anxious gruntings brought Robin back to earth. She hurried over and removed Edward’s gag, then set to work on the ropes.
“Where did you learn to fight like that?” Edward asked the moment her mouth was free.
“My father. Didn’t yours teach you how to defend yourself?”
“Of course, but not like that.”
“So my father knew a few more dirty tricks than yours.” Robin shrugged.
The rope fell from Edward’s wrists.
“Now what?” she asked.
“We get old Henry tied up.” Robin picked up the rope. “We’d better get it done fast. We don’t want him waking up on us.”
In a matter of minutes, the grungy peddler was hog-tied. Robin turned him over. There was a clinking sound, and near the man’s waist, metal gleamed in the dying firelight.
“Gold.” gasped Robin.
Edward looked also. “Angels. Why would he be carrying those?”
Robin picked up the purse that had fallen, taking care to scoop the coins into it first. After quickly checking to see that her own purse was still intact, she then dumped the little sack’s contents into her hands.
“All gold angels, alright.” she said. “I get the feeling Master Henry is not only a peddler.”
“I thought it strange that he would be carrying silk,” Edward said.
“So did I. We should have been more careful. But seeing as though we’re none the worse for it…”
Edward’s eyes glowed. “And we’re richer, too.”
“True. Let’s see what else this guy’s got on him.”
They rifled Henry’s pockets. All Robin found was a piece of folded parchment with a wax seal on it.
“What’s this?” she muttered, taking it over to the fire to read.
She stirred the coals, then fumbled over the strange writing. In spite of the language decoder that enabled her to hear the language as her own, yet speak it as the people did, writing continued to look just as confusing as seventeenth century writing always had. Edward peered over her shoulder.
“Can you read?” Robin asked.
“Yes, father taught me.”
“What does it say?” Robin handed the paper to her.
Edward paused, reading the paper over, then took a deep breath.
“It says, ‘The bearer of this writ is in the favor of His Lordship, the Earl of Essex, for the return of deserters to His Lordship’s army, and is given the privilege to travel throughout His Lordship’s domain without hindrance by the Army.”
“Hot damn!” Robin grinned. “That’s a free ticket to safety.”
“What do you mean?”
“If we carry that thing, as long as no one recognizes us as deserters, the army can’t accuse us of being deserters. They can’t bother us, by His Lordship’s orders.”
Edward gaped. “But it wasn’t written for us.”
“You think it was written for him?” Robin jerked her head at the still comatose peddler. “It probably belonged to some special friend of the Earl’s who kept getting stopped and harassed by the army. You know what everybody on the road is saying. Half of the army is deserting and the other half is looking for them.”
“It’s not that bad.”
“No. But you know what I mean.”
“Yes.” Edward thought it over. “Are you sure we’ll be safe?”
Robin shrugged. “We should be. Just as long as we play it cool, and the people who catch us don’t know us. I suggest we still try to avoid getting caught.” Robin yawned. “I also suggest we get some sleep.”
“I’ll watch first.”
“Okay. Wake me in a couple hours.”
Robin got to test her theory earlier than she expected. The next morning, the two had been on the road an hour, when five men on horseback overtook them. They reined in, surrounding the two women.
“Behold,” laughed the captain. “Two young men out wandering by themselves. Perhaps they are trying to escape service in His Lordship’s army.”
“Hardly, sir.” Robin stood up straighter and with more confidence than she felt. She removed the parchment from her doublet. “If anything, we’ve seen to it that others have done their duty.”
She held the parchment up for the men to see. At the captain’s signal, one of the others dismounted and looked at the paper.
“It’s the Earl’s seal, alright.” he said remounting. “They are not to be bothered.”
“Pray forgive us then, sirs.” The captain bowed his head, then signaled his men.
They rode off in the direction they had come. Robin took a deep breath and smiled.
“Okay, heart, you can start beating again,” she muttered.
“You were right!” gasped Edward.
“Well, we’d better start being extra careful again. We’re getting close to the vale, and that increases our chances of running into someone who knows us.”
“Such as one Master Blount.”
Robin nodded. “Or one of his friendly henchmen. Come on, let’s hurry.”