nano update, in wrong journal, I know...
Nov. 29th, 2004 02:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
burntcopperactual word count : 46,227
place I should be at : 48,333
reason for negligence : running as fast as I can. Hope to get some more done tonight.
word count for today : 2,400
Off to Lichfield, and it's in a few bits and pieces. Some needs inserting, as does a Gisburne scene.
Wickham's quiet when they approach it. "Seems fine." Tuck comments.
"What, you expecting trouble?" Will asks, turning his head to look at the rotund friar, then back at the village of Wickham, craning his head to look round the surrounding area, then settling his eyes at the possible trouble spots - they've come upon this place often enough when it's been the subject of an ambush or just been taken over by an enemy, anyone from Templar knights to Gisburne's men, and they all know where to look for the tell-tale signs of buildings or carts and hayricks used as shelter. He can't see any signs of that. "Doesn't look like there's anything wrong."
"Didn't say there was." Tuck replies. "I meant that everyone looks like they're doing fine as winter's drawing in." He points, leaning on his staff. "Look, there's Alison feeding her chickens."
"You can tell from this distance?" Will says sceptically. "She's got her back to us, for starters."
"Well, Scarlet, I'm using what you might call clues." Tuck says. "She's feeding the chickens next to her hut, and no-one else is likely to be feeding them. She's also wearing that belt that Much once got from a knight that was passing through and decided to attack him when we stopped him. He gave it to Edward, who gave it to Alison." Pauses. "And besides, that's Matthew coming out to talk to her."
"Lucky guess is what I think." Will says, then turns his head. "Why did you take that knight's belt again, Much?"
"Me own was wearing through and it was good quality." Much replies. "Turned out to be too bulky for comfort and cut into me whenever I had to climb trees, so I gave it to Edward and asked if he had any use for it."
"Well, at least someone got use out of it. The knight didn't have anymore use for the thing." Will shrugs.
At the village, some of the villagers look up, then on seeing that it's the outlaws, turn back to what they're doing. Edwards in the middle of talking to one of the other villagers about something, one arm folded, supporting the other, hand resting on his chin, nodding with a serious expression. Not that he doesn't constantly look serious. It's mostly as a result of long years spent as the village headman. He spots them out of the corner of his eye, raises a hand in greeting, then indicating that he needs to finish whatever he's talking about before he'll come over. Nasir walks over to Alfred the wood worker's hut, to check on something he asked to be made for him. He hasn't said what it is, but recently, every time they've come to Wickham, he's been checking and making further additions or refinements. It's been in the process of being made for the last couple of months, so they presume it's not exactly urgent but needs to be perfect. None of them are woodworkers, just good at the basics, so leave it to him. They'll get to see it when it's made.
Tuck goes off to check on Sarah's baby, which was poorly last time he saw it, and Tuck was suggesting a few cures for it.
Edward eventually finishes off his conversation, and walks over. "You all fine?"
"Aye, we thought we'd check in on you, see to a few things." John says. "Got any spare carrots we can buy? Tuck's in the mood for a stew."
"James should have some you can buy. Had a good crop this year, and his daughter's moved to Halifax, so he hasn't got as many mouths to feed." Edward replies. "Oh, reminds me. Had a message brought yesterday, since it seems it's not just the sheriff and Gisburne think we're the village seen as most likely to get a message to you."
"Oh, aye? What did they want?"
"Was from Lichfield. It's for Will." Edward says.
"Me? Who's sending a message to me?" Will asks, surprised.
"Your brother Amos, it seems. Wants you to go to Lichfield to see him and help with something. He's having problems." Edward shrugs.
"Did he say about what?" Will asks.
"No, messenger didn't say." Edward says.
Will rubs his chin. looking a bit thoughtful. "Wonder what he wants. Last time I spoke to 'im was when I went to Lichfield to drink myself stupid after Robin died."
John snorts. "Didn't need drink for that."
"Very bloody funny." Will grunts.
Edward nods, rubbing his chin. Alison comes over, nodding her head at John significantly as she passes Edward some bread. "Told him?"
"No, slipped my mind." Edward replies. "John, Meg wants to see you. She should be over at hers."
"You know what about?" John asks.
"No idea." Edward shrugs, tearing a piece off the bread.
Much shoves him. "Well, go on then, John."
"I'm going, I'm going." John protests as he walks off in the direction of Meg's hut.
When he reaches it, he knocks on the doorpost, poking his head in. "Meg? You in here?"
"Out the back, John." Meg calls.
John walks round. Meg's on her knees, weeding the soil while it's still soft, before winter freezes it hard and too cold for fingers. Not that it stops them working it in places like the vegetable patch. Only then, it makes your fingers red and raw with the cold. Now it's still warm enough to work comfortably and still easily. She straightens up, brushing her hands off on her apron, and brushing her hair out of her face with one hand. John crouches down next to her, putting his staff to one side. "How're you doing?"
"I'm fine. You?" Meg asks, starting to separate out the weeds into useful ones, ones you can feed to the pigs, and ones that'll poison the pig and should be just thrown into the garbage heap for compost.
"Getting along. Robbing people, giving the spoils to the poor and them as needs it. Annoying the sheriff and Gisburne." He pauses. "We're training the new lad in. Well, Will's doing most of it, since he spends the most time with Will, but we're all helping."
"There's word going round that he's the new Robin Hood since Robin left for Huntingdon." Meg says. "There any truth in that rumour?"
"Might be, we don't know. He's a good lad, and Herne named him his son. Doesn't want it, though, and think's Herne's loony." John says.
Meg laughs. "Of course Herne's loony. He wouldn't be Herne if he wasn't. He's not supposed to be like normal folk, now is he?"
"That's what we keep telling the lad, but he just ignores it." John shrugs. "Weeding going well?"
"Got most of it done." Meg says. "Should be finished by the end of the afternoon, I reckon."
"So what was it you wanted to talk about?" John asks.
"Just wanted to check on you, that you're fine." Meg says, attention seemingly on sorting the weeds out.
"What else, Meg?" John says.
"Well... wanted to make sure you understood it was mostly over. Gregory was asking about me." Meg says, a little hesitantly.
"Gregory?" John asks. "Remind me, will you, Meg?"
"Tom's lad." Meg answers.
"Oh, aye, I know him. Good lad. Sure he'll treat you right?" John asks. They may be over, but he's still concerned over her well-being.
"He's a good lad." She grins and elbows him. "Won't go running off to all parts like some people."
"I don't go running off to all parts." John yelps, rubbing his side, then grins in return. "Just some. There's a difference." He gets up, then stoops and kisses her on the cheek. "Take care of yourself, Meg." Then adds in a warning tone "I'll be checking on him. If he steps one foot out of line when it comes to you..."
"I'll knee him in the bollocks and then hit 'im with me frying pan." Meg replies, giving him a shove. "Get on with you, John."
"Aye well, I care about you. Have a good one of it." John says, sliding his staff between his fingers.
As he turns to go, Meg raises her voice again. "John?"
He turns his head. "Aye, lass?"
"Much treating you all right?" At his expression, she breaks out into giggles.
John rolls his eyes, muttering "Some people. Meg, you're terrible."
"I know." She replies, and waves. "Go before I start dropping more hints."
"I'm going, I'm going." He says, exiting sharpish before she can say anymore about Much.
When he gets back, everyone's assembled back from their errands. "What'd Meg have to say?" Much asks.
"Just checking up on me." John shrugs. "Everyone doing okay?"
"Yeah." Will says, obviously mulling over a few things. "We're going to need to get the horses. And a bit of food for the road, but that goes without saying."
"What for?" John asks.
"Well, we'll need 'em if we're going to Lichfield. You want to walk all the way there?" Will asks, looking up at John like he was thick.
----
"This is bloody insane, this is." John says as they get back on the horses after a break for water and food. "What're we going to Lichfield for again?"
"Because my brother's having problems." Will says, then mutters "Not that Amos hasn't always been a problem."
"Really?" Tuck asks. "Would've picked you as the family troublemaker by a long shot."
"Nah, Amos was always the one having problems when we were kids. Getting his fingers in places they shouldn't've been, mostly. That and going after other blokes' girls." Will says. "I was the one getting into fights, but that was normal for a lad. Never got a regular thick ear for pinching stuff or sticking my nose into things. Our mam used to despair of him."
"Well, you learn something new every day." Tuck says, nodding. "So when did he settle down to become the genial innkeeper we all know?"
Will shrugs. "He was getting a job at the inn last I saw before I went off to the army. Must've happened then. He was always good-tempered, which was why the girls liked him and he was getting in trouble because of them."
----
"This is a bloody repeat performance, if you ask me." John grumbles.
Will tosses the apple core he's been chewing on over his shoulder, worn down to the seeds and stalk. "No-one asked you."
"Mind you, if he's sick, you're not bloody leaving us to take over his inn and title deeds." John continues. "Then we'd get a bit testy and ask where you've been hiding the blond wig and posh accent."
Will snorts. "So who's volunteering to bugger off to a nunnery so I can fetch 'em back and marry 'em and leave you lot anyway?" He pauses, looking over his shoulder at Hob, who's shifting a bit in his saddle to watch a bird's progress. "Hob, you game?"
"Huh?" Hob asks, startled out of his bird watching.
"Well, since he's the only one as doesn't mind sleeping next to you, best be him." John points out.
"What the hell are you lot on about?" Hob asks, having not a clue what they're talking about. He leans forward, brushing a few burrs from where they've settled on his horse's mane. He's also wondering what his thighs are going to feel like at the end of this ride, considering he's never really ridden horses much before. They're just not something you're likely to ride if you're a peasant, at least not if you're not using it for a cart. Riding tends to be something you only really do a lot if you have money, which means it's a noble or merchant's form of transport, since horses are expensive. All right for them, they get chucked in a saddle at birth. Everyone else only rides occasionally or hires them. "And what d'you mean, I'm the only one as doesn't mind? He doesn't snore any less than the rest of you."
"See?" Will exclaims. "Proof my snoring isn't worst."
"Tuck's is worst. John when he's had a bit to drink comes in second." Hob confirms. "Now what's this all about?"
"Just grumbling about Robin, 's all." John says. "As for our man Will Scarlet's sleeping habits, everyone else sleeps at least striking distance away - arm's length and rolling distance for reach. He's had bad dreams often enough that whoever's been sleeping next to him'll wake up with bruises from him flailing about."
Hob blinks. "He's had bad dreams since I've been here, specially after Robin left. Mostly just muttering and tossing and turning, is all. Normally quietens down if you put a hand on him and tell him to shut up."
Much, Tuck, and Nasir turn round in their saddles to stare at him, shocked. Little John's looking gobsmacked. It's obviously shocking enough that Nasir's prompted to speak. "You managed that."
Tuck shakes his head. "You're nominated for sainthood, lad. Performing miracles is bloody impressive."
"Very funny." Hob grunts.
John gets his voice back. "Looks like you're nominated, lad. D'you want flowers at the wedding? Much can be bridesmaid. Looks right cute in a garland of flowers, so he does."
"Bugger off, John." Much says from in front.
Hob just looks puzzled. "Are any of you going to tell me what this is about?"
"Nah, just ignore 'em." Will says. "Long-running joke that makes no bloody sense."
"You're all nuts, you are." Hob says, shaking his head in disbelief. "Join the wolfshead, they said. Steal taxes, they said. Get threatened by Gisburne, they said. Getting into bloody weird arguments about someone's sleeping habits was not on the list. You're taking leave of your senses, you lot are."
"Nah, lost those years ago." John says cheerfully. "Much there never had too many to begin with, and Scarlet got 'em beaten out of his head long ago."
place I should be at : 48,333
reason for negligence : running as fast as I can. Hope to get some more done tonight.
word count for today : 2,400
Off to Lichfield, and it's in a few bits and pieces. Some needs inserting, as does a Gisburne scene.
Wickham's quiet when they approach it. "Seems fine." Tuck comments.
"What, you expecting trouble?" Will asks, turning his head to look at the rotund friar, then back at the village of Wickham, craning his head to look round the surrounding area, then settling his eyes at the possible trouble spots - they've come upon this place often enough when it's been the subject of an ambush or just been taken over by an enemy, anyone from Templar knights to Gisburne's men, and they all know where to look for the tell-tale signs of buildings or carts and hayricks used as shelter. He can't see any signs of that. "Doesn't look like there's anything wrong."
"Didn't say there was." Tuck replies. "I meant that everyone looks like they're doing fine as winter's drawing in." He points, leaning on his staff. "Look, there's Alison feeding her chickens."
"You can tell from this distance?" Will says sceptically. "She's got her back to us, for starters."
"Well, Scarlet, I'm using what you might call clues." Tuck says. "She's feeding the chickens next to her hut, and no-one else is likely to be feeding them. She's also wearing that belt that Much once got from a knight that was passing through and decided to attack him when we stopped him. He gave it to Edward, who gave it to Alison." Pauses. "And besides, that's Matthew coming out to talk to her."
"Lucky guess is what I think." Will says, then turns his head. "Why did you take that knight's belt again, Much?"
"Me own was wearing through and it was good quality." Much replies. "Turned out to be too bulky for comfort and cut into me whenever I had to climb trees, so I gave it to Edward and asked if he had any use for it."
"Well, at least someone got use out of it. The knight didn't have anymore use for the thing." Will shrugs.
At the village, some of the villagers look up, then on seeing that it's the outlaws, turn back to what they're doing. Edwards in the middle of talking to one of the other villagers about something, one arm folded, supporting the other, hand resting on his chin, nodding with a serious expression. Not that he doesn't constantly look serious. It's mostly as a result of long years spent as the village headman. He spots them out of the corner of his eye, raises a hand in greeting, then indicating that he needs to finish whatever he's talking about before he'll come over. Nasir walks over to Alfred the wood worker's hut, to check on something he asked to be made for him. He hasn't said what it is, but recently, every time they've come to Wickham, he's been checking and making further additions or refinements. It's been in the process of being made for the last couple of months, so they presume it's not exactly urgent but needs to be perfect. None of them are woodworkers, just good at the basics, so leave it to him. They'll get to see it when it's made.
Tuck goes off to check on Sarah's baby, which was poorly last time he saw it, and Tuck was suggesting a few cures for it.
Edward eventually finishes off his conversation, and walks over. "You all fine?"
"Aye, we thought we'd check in on you, see to a few things." John says. "Got any spare carrots we can buy? Tuck's in the mood for a stew."
"James should have some you can buy. Had a good crop this year, and his daughter's moved to Halifax, so he hasn't got as many mouths to feed." Edward replies. "Oh, reminds me. Had a message brought yesterday, since it seems it's not just the sheriff and Gisburne think we're the village seen as most likely to get a message to you."
"Oh, aye? What did they want?"
"Was from Lichfield. It's for Will." Edward says.
"Me? Who's sending a message to me?" Will asks, surprised.
"Your brother Amos, it seems. Wants you to go to Lichfield to see him and help with something. He's having problems." Edward shrugs.
"Did he say about what?" Will asks.
"No, messenger didn't say." Edward says.
Will rubs his chin. looking a bit thoughtful. "Wonder what he wants. Last time I spoke to 'im was when I went to Lichfield to drink myself stupid after Robin died."
John snorts. "Didn't need drink for that."
"Very bloody funny." Will grunts.
Edward nods, rubbing his chin. Alison comes over, nodding her head at John significantly as she passes Edward some bread. "Told him?"
"No, slipped my mind." Edward replies. "John, Meg wants to see you. She should be over at hers."
"You know what about?" John asks.
"No idea." Edward shrugs, tearing a piece off the bread.
Much shoves him. "Well, go on then, John."
"I'm going, I'm going." John protests as he walks off in the direction of Meg's hut.
When he reaches it, he knocks on the doorpost, poking his head in. "Meg? You in here?"
"Out the back, John." Meg calls.
John walks round. Meg's on her knees, weeding the soil while it's still soft, before winter freezes it hard and too cold for fingers. Not that it stops them working it in places like the vegetable patch. Only then, it makes your fingers red and raw with the cold. Now it's still warm enough to work comfortably and still easily. She straightens up, brushing her hands off on her apron, and brushing her hair out of her face with one hand. John crouches down next to her, putting his staff to one side. "How're you doing?"
"I'm fine. You?" Meg asks, starting to separate out the weeds into useful ones, ones you can feed to the pigs, and ones that'll poison the pig and should be just thrown into the garbage heap for compost.
"Getting along. Robbing people, giving the spoils to the poor and them as needs it. Annoying the sheriff and Gisburne." He pauses. "We're training the new lad in. Well, Will's doing most of it, since he spends the most time with Will, but we're all helping."
"There's word going round that he's the new Robin Hood since Robin left for Huntingdon." Meg says. "There any truth in that rumour?"
"Might be, we don't know. He's a good lad, and Herne named him his son. Doesn't want it, though, and think's Herne's loony." John says.
Meg laughs. "Of course Herne's loony. He wouldn't be Herne if he wasn't. He's not supposed to be like normal folk, now is he?"
"That's what we keep telling the lad, but he just ignores it." John shrugs. "Weeding going well?"
"Got most of it done." Meg says. "Should be finished by the end of the afternoon, I reckon."
"So what was it you wanted to talk about?" John asks.
"Just wanted to check on you, that you're fine." Meg says, attention seemingly on sorting the weeds out.
"What else, Meg?" John says.
"Well... wanted to make sure you understood it was mostly over. Gregory was asking about me." Meg says, a little hesitantly.
"Gregory?" John asks. "Remind me, will you, Meg?"
"Tom's lad." Meg answers.
"Oh, aye, I know him. Good lad. Sure he'll treat you right?" John asks. They may be over, but he's still concerned over her well-being.
"He's a good lad." She grins and elbows him. "Won't go running off to all parts like some people."
"I don't go running off to all parts." John yelps, rubbing his side, then grins in return. "Just some. There's a difference." He gets up, then stoops and kisses her on the cheek. "Take care of yourself, Meg." Then adds in a warning tone "I'll be checking on him. If he steps one foot out of line when it comes to you..."
"I'll knee him in the bollocks and then hit 'im with me frying pan." Meg replies, giving him a shove. "Get on with you, John."
"Aye well, I care about you. Have a good one of it." John says, sliding his staff between his fingers.
As he turns to go, Meg raises her voice again. "John?"
He turns his head. "Aye, lass?"
"Much treating you all right?" At his expression, she breaks out into giggles.
John rolls his eyes, muttering "Some people. Meg, you're terrible."
"I know." She replies, and waves. "Go before I start dropping more hints."
"I'm going, I'm going." He says, exiting sharpish before she can say anymore about Much.
When he gets back, everyone's assembled back from their errands. "What'd Meg have to say?" Much asks.
"Just checking up on me." John shrugs. "Everyone doing okay?"
"Yeah." Will says, obviously mulling over a few things. "We're going to need to get the horses. And a bit of food for the road, but that goes without saying."
"What for?" John asks.
"Well, we'll need 'em if we're going to Lichfield. You want to walk all the way there?" Will asks, looking up at John like he was thick.
----
"This is bloody insane, this is." John says as they get back on the horses after a break for water and food. "What're we going to Lichfield for again?"
"Because my brother's having problems." Will says, then mutters "Not that Amos hasn't always been a problem."
"Really?" Tuck asks. "Would've picked you as the family troublemaker by a long shot."
"Nah, Amos was always the one having problems when we were kids. Getting his fingers in places they shouldn't've been, mostly. That and going after other blokes' girls." Will says. "I was the one getting into fights, but that was normal for a lad. Never got a regular thick ear for pinching stuff or sticking my nose into things. Our mam used to despair of him."
"Well, you learn something new every day." Tuck says, nodding. "So when did he settle down to become the genial innkeeper we all know?"
Will shrugs. "He was getting a job at the inn last I saw before I went off to the army. Must've happened then. He was always good-tempered, which was why the girls liked him and he was getting in trouble because of them."
----
"This is a bloody repeat performance, if you ask me." John grumbles.
Will tosses the apple core he's been chewing on over his shoulder, worn down to the seeds and stalk. "No-one asked you."
"Mind you, if he's sick, you're not bloody leaving us to take over his inn and title deeds." John continues. "Then we'd get a bit testy and ask where you've been hiding the blond wig and posh accent."
Will snorts. "So who's volunteering to bugger off to a nunnery so I can fetch 'em back and marry 'em and leave you lot anyway?" He pauses, looking over his shoulder at Hob, who's shifting a bit in his saddle to watch a bird's progress. "Hob, you game?"
"Huh?" Hob asks, startled out of his bird watching.
"Well, since he's the only one as doesn't mind sleeping next to you, best be him." John points out.
"What the hell are you lot on about?" Hob asks, having not a clue what they're talking about. He leans forward, brushing a few burrs from where they've settled on his horse's mane. He's also wondering what his thighs are going to feel like at the end of this ride, considering he's never really ridden horses much before. They're just not something you're likely to ride if you're a peasant, at least not if you're not using it for a cart. Riding tends to be something you only really do a lot if you have money, which means it's a noble or merchant's form of transport, since horses are expensive. All right for them, they get chucked in a saddle at birth. Everyone else only rides occasionally or hires them. "And what d'you mean, I'm the only one as doesn't mind? He doesn't snore any less than the rest of you."
"See?" Will exclaims. "Proof my snoring isn't worst."
"Tuck's is worst. John when he's had a bit to drink comes in second." Hob confirms. "Now what's this all about?"
"Just grumbling about Robin, 's all." John says. "As for our man Will Scarlet's sleeping habits, everyone else sleeps at least striking distance away - arm's length and rolling distance for reach. He's had bad dreams often enough that whoever's been sleeping next to him'll wake up with bruises from him flailing about."
Hob blinks. "He's had bad dreams since I've been here, specially after Robin left. Mostly just muttering and tossing and turning, is all. Normally quietens down if you put a hand on him and tell him to shut up."
Much, Tuck, and Nasir turn round in their saddles to stare at him, shocked. Little John's looking gobsmacked. It's obviously shocking enough that Nasir's prompted to speak. "You managed that."
Tuck shakes his head. "You're nominated for sainthood, lad. Performing miracles is bloody impressive."
"Very funny." Hob grunts.
John gets his voice back. "Looks like you're nominated, lad. D'you want flowers at the wedding? Much can be bridesmaid. Looks right cute in a garland of flowers, so he does."
"Bugger off, John." Much says from in front.
Hob just looks puzzled. "Are any of you going to tell me what this is about?"
"Nah, just ignore 'em." Will says. "Long-running joke that makes no bloody sense."
"You're all nuts, you are." Hob says, shaking his head in disbelief. "Join the wolfshead, they said. Steal taxes, they said. Get threatened by Gisburne, they said. Getting into bloody weird arguments about someone's sleeping habits was not on the list. You're taking leave of your senses, you lot are."
"Nah, lost those years ago." John says cheerfully. "Much there never had too many to begin with, and Scarlet got 'em beaten out of his head long ago."
