Small Warmth.

The small bread roll was still warm in my hands. 

I had broken it like a bishop delivering the lords feast and the warmth had sealed into my fingers. 

I had pulled my tunic sleeves down firstly to hide the brandished now turning white but still red scar placed on my wrist and secondly the other because one would look strange. 

In all our fighting in the holy lands, and through our travels back to England, I had never felt more far away from home as I did right now.  I was in front of my own gates. And I might as well have been back on the front lines with the King.  Realising I was staring at my bread I looked up meeting John and Jon and Red's gaze. 

Red's nanny was still moving about setting food down in front of the others fussing about Red's state of dress and generally making noises. All I could focus on was the large circle on my wrist. And O. For Outlaw.

I looked at my two friends, and my little sister. With an effort I managed to smile.

"You three are forever pulling me out of tight spots." I started. 

"Thank you."

It would be the last thanks they received. 

They had merchant and I would leave them the horse. 

As Robin of Glenhoe I was dead and buried beside my father

Red would hear of it from Ezme if she didn't already know.

As an outlaw I was a threat to them. 

Soberly settling into my soup, I made plans to leave.

Taverns.

I can hear singing.  

Probably from the tavern on the side street in front of me.  I used to sing sometimes when we visited a tavern with the other men. I was never much of a singer. My horse was the only thing that appreciated my voice, and then only during thunderstorms. I suppose my singing was worse than the thunder so made it bearable. At least I have stopped sneezing for now, even though my throat is dry and I am very cold. 

If I have my days right tomorrow is market day. The square will be packed with people. It was normally after market day people frequented the taverns, but I suppose all ale houses have there regulars.  The singing sounds good from this distance.  It's cheerful and reminds me of summer, which is nice on this cold night. It makes me feel a little warmer. 

I can't see the sky much but I can see stars in the puddles on the square. It must be a clear moonless night. I hope Red hasn't worried too much. And I hope little John has managed to distract her if she has. They should be at nearly the other side of the estate, far enough away to not pass me at least. I don't think Red would even look at the stocks though. And neither of the Johns are the type to humiliate a man in this situation. 

It's hard to sleep standing up, and not being able to get comfortable. Sleep is the only thing I have control over though. So I should at least try. 

It hasn't occurred to me to try and get free, even if I did manage to free my hands I am still chained to the stockade itself. 

The singing as stopped. I find myself torn between wanting some human interaction and not wanting to be subject to the ideas of drunken men. Voices appear to be heading away from me. 

Maybe I should try to sleep a little more. The market place gets set up in the dark early hours so I shall not have chance to sleep then. 

I wish I was in that warm tavern. But there is something about looking down into the puddles at the sky above that's is oddly calming. Maybe tomorrow I'll be freed.  Perhaps my punishment was for a night as well as a day....

Bob and Greg.

Robin is asleep right now but! 

 Hello I'm Bob.

 I'm robins friend. I'm a sock monkey! I have a nearly identical brother called Greg. 

And we live in Robins pocket. Pockets are quite a new thing and not many people have pockets but Robin does. We were both darned by Robins mother when she noticed Robin didn't have anyone to play with and since then Robin has told us everything! Even up until today. Which is quite sad considering we're socks...

He told us first when the cat had baby kittens and he found them, and he told us first when he managed to lift his dads sword up for the first time even though he was very small and the sword was very heavy. And he told us first when. He met Maid Marian, we think that we'd like him very much to see her again as she has two pink socks called Brigget and Geraldine who we quite like...

Brigget and Bob... 

Greg and Geraldine....

Robin is waking up now so maybe we'll have time to talk again another time. 

Aaaaaaaaaaahhh

Choooooo!

It's raining again. 

I'm freezing cold. 

I feel utterly.... Aaaaaaahhhhchhooo!

Ouch. 

I've started sneezing off and on for the last hour. I keep hitting my head on the stockade every time I sneeze. I keep pulling my wrists against it too I'm sneezing so violently. 

Stupid English weather!!

I'm feeling really dizzy and tired. 

If I ever get my estate back I'm building a shelter over these stockades! Bad enough to be stuck in them, but to be...

Aaaaccchhhhhoooo! 

Hrumph. Maybe it'll be best if I try and sleep. 

Penance.

The sun is just starting to go down.  A few people have slipped by on the way to neighbours dwellings. They didn't look at me. 

The rain from late morning drifted back again after mid day. It soothed the Brand on on my wrist a little though. Apparently sun rise to sunset is not the length of time I am to spend here. My neck and back are really starting to ache. I can't keep my head lifted too long. Which is a shame as the sun set is really very striking. 

One of the younger boys has started to light a few torches outside the main square. But there really is no sence is lighting them as no one has crossed it all day.  The boy is coming closer.  He's stood at stairing at me for a very long time. But now he's crept through the mud to just in front of me. 

I can only see his shoes. Falling apart on the toes  they look far to big for the legs attached. 

'My Ma said I shouldn't ask.'

He starts. I'm not sure what to reply. But he spares me the trouble. 

'Are you really Master Robin of Glenhoe from the castle?' 

I nod. And he shifts from foot to foot. 

'tell me what it's like, fighting for the king?'

'Its a lot warmer than this,' I stop as he sits down carefully on the more grassy area of the stocks. I can now see his face. He is seven or eight. 'At night time the heat stops. And it gets colder than the worst winter here.' 

I tell him a little about camels before one or two other small children creep close. They are youger than the boy and quiet. 

'Did you ever kill anyone? Ma says if you do you need to pay a pennant to God.'

I smile at his mix up. 

And I nearly reply before they scatter into the darkness. 

I'm not sure what they heard. Only that I'm back on my own again.   

Weather.

It started to drizzle, luckily it was a welcome cloud burst. 

The caterpillar has stuck resouloutly to my eyebrow even when I lifted my head to try to get it to wash off. 

Probably for the best really what if it had rolled into my eye. I wouldn't be able to get it out. 

The rain stopped quite quickly and the sun started to beat down again. My hair was soaked through but it's dry again now 

I wonder how many people are blinded in the stocks by caterpillars venturing into there eyes. I suppose if anyone did throw anything at me it would be caterpillar food.... Does that mean there is more of them a caterpillar family that lives on the stocks. 

I wonder if Red and Little John realised I've snuck out yet. Or if Big John has found merchant...

I hope Marion doesn't choose this day to visit my estate....

Small inconvenience's

There is a caterpillar.  

At least it feels like a caterpillar.... 

On my eyebrow.  

I have tried reaching up for it, I have tried blowing to make it fall but no.

 It is on my eyebrow, and there it is planning to stay. 

It is hot now. It must be midday at least... 

I don't want a fried caterpillar on my eyebrow!!