Lady Thief: A Scarlet Novel by A.C. Gaughen

Author:A.C. Gaughen [Gaughen, A.C.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
Published: 2014-02-11T08:00:00+00:00

It were long enough into the night that the lads might have been at the monastery already, but not enough that it were a certainty. I didn’t think, at least. My blood roaring were the only thing keeping my body in motion; my skin were thick and clumsy and I’d long since stopped feeling for the wet and cold.

I went to Tuck’s, sure I’d at least find John there. Not even bothering to peep in the window, I dropped from the horse and burst into the place. It felt like my body caught up to my blood, and it were a violent coming together, more like stabbing pain than heat. There were a fair amount of men there, and I could bare look upon them before I bent over, wheezing and shivering as the warmth broke through.

Someone were calling my name, and I straightened in time for Rob to pull me into a hug, dragging me off the ground and hugging me so hard I feared I might shatter, and my hand slung against my ribs protested.

“Scar, you’re like ice,” he said, pulling me over to the huge fireplace and kicking other folk out of their seats. Much appeared with a blanket and John were a moment behind him, and in a breath, even half-frozen, I felt like no time had passed, and all were like it used to be.

Rob tugged off my silly shoes and wrapped his hands around my feet even as I winced away, the heat hurting. “Jesus, Scar,” he murmured, looking at my face in full. “What, did you run here from Nottingham?”

“There are riots,” I said, trying to suck in a deep breath against the cold.

“Riots?” Much asked. “What for?”

“The prince gave the people rotten food from the feast,” I said. “A few of the little ones took sick, and the people just … fought.”

Much looked at John, who frowned back at him, but Rob just rubbed my feet more and smiled. “I take it you came up with a plan on your way.”

I nodded. “I know where the castle food stores are. Most of it collected from Nottinghamshire.”

John shook his head. “No,” he said.

We all looked to him.

“No,” he repeated, fair shocked, like it were a crime we didn’t know what he were about. “I’m not doing it.”

“You heard her,” Rob said. “Children are dying. What would you have us do? Nothing?”

“Yes!” he snapped. “Because that’s all it ever is. Nothing but sticking our necks out. Changing nothing, fixing nothing.”

“John—” Much said.

“Actions have punishments,” he said. “We steal the food, hand it out, then what? You think Prince John will just let us off about our way? We almost died fighting the sheriff and this is the prince. He will kill us,” he said.

“He won’t kill me,” I said, scowling at John.

He jumped forward and grabbed my chin, tilting my bruises to the light. “No, he has his own ways of punishing you, Scar, and I’m not putting that on you. Rob may be fine with turning your face purple but I’m not.

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