Sherwood Page 17

  Harlow stayed silent for a moment before looking back down to the laundry in her hands. It felt as if the gates to her memories had been opened and images flooded into her brain. Enders face and his laugh, the way he said her name all came rushing into her mind and refused to let her go from its grip.

  She felt the fabric in her hands, replaying several moments she'd shared with Enders in her mind. She felt herself come back to reality as she stood there.

  Harlow couldn't say no. Parker was the most suitable man in the castle. He was young and handsome, and every girl in the castle aspired to be with someone like him. It would be suspicious if she had said no to his proposal. She felt hopeless, and she knew she had no choice.

  She turned her eyes up to him and forced a huge smile on her face. It made her sick to her stomach. "I'd like that." The second the words left her mouth, she felt the wave of guilt wash over her. Enders immediately came into her mind. Every memory she'd shared with him made her cringe.

  Parker's smile grew as Harlow had to force hers to stay put on her face. He didn't seem to notice her discomfort. “I'll start preparations immediately.” He beamed, happily.

  Things seemed to be happening in a blur for her. Parker came close to her and hugged her carefully.

  “We will speak later,” Parker said, pulling away from the hug, resting his hands on her arms, and nodding toward her. “Have a good evening, Harlow.”

  Harlow nodded as he pulled away from her, the singe of guilt washing over her at the sudden contact.

  Parker turned away from her, offering one last grin before he did so. Harlow nodded, sending a smile back to him.

  It pained her to her very core to smile.

  Parker strode down the hall, away from her, turning a corner, a grin obviously plastered on his face,

  Seeing his excitement made Harlow cringe even more, tears starting to well up in her eyes.

  It was then that she realized that time was running out.

  *~*~*

  'I could sneak him out through the gardens,' Harlow thought, turning down corridors, the sound of her feet matching the beating of her heart. She carried rags and towels toward the kitchen area, her disdain for the castle's gray walls growing more with every step.

  It had been damn near a week since she'd seen Enders, and she couldn't find an excuse to see him. She was running through strategies, but every single one ended up with him dead.

  “Harlow, dear!” The cook immediately exclaimed, kneading his dough, his cheeks rosy red with excitement.

  “Hello, sir cook,” Harlow greeted, offering a small, fake smile before placing the rags down on the counter and looking up at him.

  She patted and fixed her dress before placing her hands on her hips. She raised an eyebrow upon seeing a giddy, excited Cook before her. “Another feast, is there?”

  “Aye, my girl,” He said happily. His smile fell only slightly as he glanced at the cart in the corner of the kitchen. “I hate to ask, dear, but can you deliver a plate to the prisoner outlaw downstairs?”

  Harlow felt her smile falter and her heart beat faster. She felt her hands grow numb and excited. She nodded, trying to compose herself as she stepped toward the cart.

  “I can indeed,” Harlow said, a genuine, small smile on her lips.

  She felt her heart start to beat with excitement.

  “Thank you, dear,” The cook said, paying attention to the dough in front of him.

  Harlow nodded, silently taking the plate from the cart. She looked up to the cook and noticed his back turned to her. She quickly swiped three extra bread rolls, shoving them into her roomy pockets and rushing out of the kitchen. She picked up her pace, excitedly, reaching the stairs to the basement area, and prisoner's quarters, in what felt like an eternity.

  She took the stairs two at a time, making her way to the bottom in record timing.

  The dark walls and dim lighting made her take a moment to adjust her eyes before she could see the scribe from her previous encounter in the dark room.

  “Get over here, outlaw!” A demanding voice rang out in the darkness. Harlow immediately, turned her eyes toward the hallway leading to Enders' cell. She noticed the open door, and the unnatural torch light seeping from the corridor.

  “Bind his hands. Hurry up.” The other voice rang out, taking Harlow by surprise.

  She let her eyes grow large and her heart sink into her stomach.

  Parker?

  She saw, as if in slow motion, Parker and another soldier she barely recognized, emerge from the corridor, holding Enders, hands bound behind his back.

  Harlow felt her jaw drop. “Parker?”

  Parker's eyes shot up to look at her, a sorrowful feeling resonating in his pupils. “Harlow, dear, what are you doing in this place?”

  Harlow shook her head, incredulously at first. “Delivering a meal. What is going on here?”

  Parker sighed and looked over here silently. He offered a smile. “Nothing to worry yourself with, dearest.”

  Harlow, until that moment, avoided Enders eyes. They were defeated, his lip bleeding at one end, his head hanging low, hair hanging over his eyes. Her heart ached at how handsome he'd been and how badly he was treated.

  It made Harlow want to scream and cry. She felt her stomach churn and her eyes burn with anger.

  “Dearest?” Enders croaked out, his voice gruff and tired. “What a pretty girl you have there, Parker.”

  Parker's eyes grew intense with anger, but before he could say anything Harlow jumped into the conversation.

  “Where are you taking him?” Harlow asked, a little too quickly.

  Parker raised an eyebrow at her. “King Wesley wishes to see him at the feast, to enjoy in the capture of a notorious outlaw.” Parker's voice kept quiet and absolute as he spoke. “Do not concern yourself with this man, dear.”

  Harlow kept quiet for only a moment. “I would, Parker. It's simply that he hasn't eaten yet, and in order to be good entertainment for the king, he must be well fed and in exemplary condition.”

  Parker nodded, standing silently. “I see.” He paused, looking at Enders on his left, then turning to Harlow again. “Will it please you to see him eat?”

  Harlow was about to answer, but held her tongue. “It would please me to do as I've been instructed. The cook is in charge of keeping this man alive and healthy. If this man runs into any health problems, the cook with be blamed, and thus I will be at fault. Let me not be responsible for the death and malnourished nature of this man.”

  Parker's eyes softened and looked to the man on the other side of Enders. They exchanged words in a silent conversation.

  Parker nodded. “I will have him eat.”

  Harlow smiled a small, grateful smile, as Parker stepped forward and took the tray from her hands, feeling the gentle touch of her skin as he did so.

  He offered a smile as he turned away from her and lead Enders and his fellow soldier back down the corridor. Before Parker completely disappeared, taking Enders with him and away from her, he turned back and offered one more smile. “Now, go back to the cook, and not worry yourself with matters of these prisoners.”

  Harlow nodded. She felt her teeth grind together in distress and disdain. Anger grew from her stomach and spread to her chest. She felt her cheeks burn red, but due to the dark lighting it couldn't be noticed.

  “As you say, dearest.”

  It was the most malicious and sarcastic tone she'd ever mustered in her life.

  Harlow turned as Parker entered the dark corridor, and ran up the stairs, and out of Enders' prison behind her.

  *~*~*

  Harlow marched out of the staircase and walked the darkened and dimmed halls toward her living quarters.

  It was a crowded room, with the same gray walls as the rest of the castle. It was only tidy due to the cleanly nature of her fellow maids and servants. She noticed the floor was sparkled shade of marble and the walls had been rid of their occasional mold.

  She paid no mind to
the cleaner room and crossed the quarters quickly, finding the room completely abandoned. She closed the door quietly behind her and strode across the room to the thick, red curtains, hanging loosely from the wall.

  With every step she took, she felt the rumble of music below her feet; she felt the sound of chatter and voices reach into her soul from the floor below. It made her skin crawl to think that Enders was down there, being taunted before King Wesley.

  She took hold of the thick curtains and examined the dark color in her fingers, the fabric being a symbol of oppression to her, becoming something she hated more than she could describe.

  Harlow, the outlaw's victim, was in a good place. She was going to marry a prestigious, young, and wealthy military commander.

  But, Harlow, The Outlaw, was dying inside.

  It had been to long that she'd started leading this double life. It had been to long since she felt the warmth of the sun on her skin. It had been over a month since she'd seen the sun, and it was started to drive her insane.

  The more she thought about the situation she was in, the more her anger built up inside of her. She felt her body tremble at the injustice of the situation. She felt her cheeks burn red with total rage, and in one cascading moment of total bliss, she threw open the curtains of the window and immediately felt the warmth she so longed for.

  The first few moments that the curtains were opened, she stood in front of the window, enjoying the sunlight touch her skin, her eyes closed and her body soaking in all the vitamins she could in the short period of time.

  Only a few seconds passed before Harlow opened her eyes to look out over the horizon, seeing the most serene and peaceful thing she'd ever witnessed. The hills and rising mountain ridge made her wonder how she ever made it this long without seeing the nature she so longed for, although she had to squint gently in order to see the greenery clearly.

  It took her only a moment to see a small, moving body in the trees off to her far right, just a few yards in front of the kitchen entrance to the castle. At first, she thought it might be one of the kings soldiers, but just as the thought came, it was gone. She spotted the greenery and the leather armor of the men.

  It was then that the men spotted her as well, mistaking her for a moment for one of the servants, but it was obvious that they recognized her, from the sudden increase of men emerging from the bushes.

  Several men stood on the bank, staring out to her, raising their palms to her, almost saluting her, to show her that they recognized her.

  Harlow let her jaw drop, let her stomach clench in excitement and exhaustion. She felt absolute joy in seeing the men there.

  She raised her hand above her head and rested her trembling hand on the glass window that sat before her. She rose her other hand to her mouth and felt herself shake in relief.

  It was then, as tears almost came over the brim of her eyes, that she realized this was it.

  This was the rescue attempt she so longed for.

  *~*~*

  Harlow strode toward the Kitchen area, where she was supposed to be on duty. She was almost skipping as she hurried to her place. She didn't know what she was going to do, but she knew that she had to do something.

  She had to get Enders out to the outlaws somehow.

  “Where have you been?!” The cook exclaimed, marching toward her and shoving food into her hands. “Take these out to the tables for the guests!”

  Harlow nodded, taking the plates and disappearing back through the door.

  She walked into the ballroom, King Wesley sitting high on his throne at the end of the room, the guests dancing and chatting with each others. The women flirted and batted their eyes while the men bowed low and took hands to dance. The room was illuminated only by torches that hung high and low all over the walls. The normally gray walls were decorated with large maroon and black curtains, which felt eerie and terrifying.

  The room was warm only due to the immense amount of torches hanging on the walls, illuminating everything from the faces of guests to the ceiling up high.

  She scanned the room quickly. This time, through the moving and dancing bodies, she saw Enders, beaten and bleeding. He was dirty, wearing his same clothing he wore the evening of his capture. His clothing was torn in several places, although it held onto him just fine, albeit loosely.

  He lost several pounds and would have looked sickly if not for his muscular physique. It wasn't anything that some good nutrition couldn't fix. She saw his head bowed down, his hands chained to a pillar on his right side.

  Although he was tired, he was forced to stand, while two guards stood on his sides and the king sat very close by.

  Harlow turned away from the sight, unable to the rage building in the pit of her stomach. She knitted her eyebrows together and half-staggered, half-walked to the feast table and slammed the food down before moving out of the ballroom and into the kitchen again. She watched in a daze as the cook moved swiftly around the room.

  The Cook looked up while Harlow stood in a surprise. “Oh Harlow, dear, take more plates to the guest tables.”

  Harlow nodded, coming back to reality for a moment. She took the plates from the counter top and walked back into the ballroom she didn't want to be in.

  She took several steps into the ballroom before the first scream rang out in the dim lighting.

  Harlow immediately dropped the plates, turning around and scanning the area behind her.

  The archway was dark and dim. The lighting was, as it always had been, barely visible.

  It must have only been five seconds, but as silence filled the room, along with terror and stress, one word rang out in the absolute darkness, that struck fear into all the guests' hearts.

  Except Harlow's.

  “Outlaws!”

  She didn't recognize the voice, but she didn't care. She stared intently into the darkness, seeing the moment that an arrow came whizzing out of the archway and into the ballroom, implanting itself into a pillar near King Wesley's throne.

  It was in that second that total chaos ensued.

  Harlow turned from the archway in just enough time to see Enders being taken away by two soldiers, being directed by the king himself.

  They took him through a stone doorway on the opposite end of the room. Harlow recognized the room as the king's Ballroom Quarters. He was undoubtedly a fan of theatrics and would lie in wait until all his guests had arrived to make his grand appearance from that room. She'd never been in it and had no idea what it looked like, but she knew that's where she had to go and extract Enders from.

  Harlow had never seen it before, but she'd heard rumors and stories of the place.

  Harlow saw the outlaws emerge from the stone archway, bringing life and color into the ballroom, their green and brown clad bodies seeming to illuminate the gray walls.

  She listened to the screaming of women, although no women were touched.

  She witnessed the men battling with rushing soldiers and armor clad men enlisted in King Wesley's army. She, oddly, had the faintest worry about Parker, hoping he'd survive the surprise attack.

  She immediately pushed the thought away, searching the faces of the outlaws.

  Leading the men was Reggie, who was yelling orders and taking the front lines with brute force. She smiled at him, although he didn't see her. She felt proud that he'd come so far.

  'His wife will be proud,' She thought to herself, taking steps backward, toward the direction the men had taken Enders.

  It was then that her father rushed in behind Reggie.

  He broke through the front line men, yelling out orders and fighting armor clad men. “Check every inch of this place while we can!” He raised he sword and hit a soldier in his gut, pushing him back and forcing him down. He raised his sword high and plummeted the metal through the man's chest, blood coming up like a fountain of red water.

  Harlow stared in horror as she watched her father kill a man, although she was certain he'd killed many men.

  Harrison Mc
Bride pulled his sword back and looked around the room. “Squads four and six,” He bellowed, “search the perimeter as much as you can! Fall back if your lives become threatened!”

  Harlow wanted to run to him and cry at the same time, but she felt frozen.

  He seemed healthier and livelier. She couldn't believe her own eyes for the several seconds she stared. His hair had been gray, but his body was more fit and his voice sounded more absolute. Harlow wondered if maybe outlawry was simply in his blood.

  Then, in the midst of moving bodies and raging wars, her father turned and scanned the room, his eyes landing right on hers. She saw his eyes light up and his body start to move toward her. Harlow wanted to hug him, but she couldn't waste her time. Enders could be executed at any moment.

  Quickly, she came back to reality, her face turned serious and she held up her hand to stop him. She took several steps backward, feeling the cold, stone walls behind her. She hadn't realized how close to the wall she was. Harlow turned around and saw the door off to her right. She shoved her body into the door, trying to push it open, but the locks wouldn't give. She should have known better. It wouldn't be that easy.

  She turned back to her father, who had downed another man, and stared at him in panic.

  Her father's expression grew dark and bitter for a moment before Harlow shook her head gently and mouthed one name: “Enders.” To her it was a whisper, but to her father is was a statement. It was a plea. It was as if she was standing in front of him saying, 'Please, let me do this. I need to do this.'

  Her father gave a small, unhappy smile before turning with his fellow outlaws and continuing on with the waging war.