The man who had approached her table walked outside as the one seated ordered another mug from the young serving girl. Robin left her laundry on the table and eased outside, trying not to attract attention. At the doorway, she paused until she spotted him walking to the shed where the blacksmith beat a tune on iron with his hammer. She circled the inn to where the four outhouses stood. Entering one, she watched outside through the ill-fitting door.
When he finished talking to the blacksmith, he turned and entered the door of Miss Ann’s store. Inside, she sold anything related to sewing. The material, ribbon, needles, thimbles, and of course, advice. Her lips held many a story and rumor.
Heart pounding, Robin, slipped out and walked directly to the blacksmith as if they had business to discuss. She washed his clothing, which was difficult to clean. Besides the soot and grime, everything had small holes from burning sparks. He wore rags at work, for the most part, until he went home to his new wife of three years. There he washed in a rain barrel out back and usually changed into the clothing she had placed on a bench before entering the tidy home. Robin had stepped to the edge of the roof and to the side of the blacksmith before he saw her.
“You startled me.” He continued pounding the glowing iron on his anvil.
“That man. What did he ask you?” She had already decided not to be coy or deceptive.
The hammer continued its beat, never missing. He answered between. “He said wild boys are becoming a problem in this district. They steal and cause trouble. He wanted to know if I’ve had any problems.”
There it was. She drew a deep breath. He was definitely after Camilla, and there could be no doubt. A rumor of her living in Nettleton must have reached the palace. “What else?”
The blacksmith dunked the hot iron into a tub of water, and steam rose. “He waited for me to tell him about any wild boys around here who make trouble, I guess.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I said I don’t know anyone like that. I have work to do instead of talking all day.”
Robin saw the stranger leaving Miss Ann’s. “There is that one boy that lives in the hills by Copper Mountain.”
“Oh, that one doesn't cause me any trouble. I didn’t even mention him.”
She nodded her goodbye to the blacksmith and walked to the door of the store. Again she didn’t hesitate to speak. “What did he want?”
Miss Ann stood on a stool as she placed a bolt of material high on a shelf. She didn’t even bother looking at Robin. “A King’s man comes in here asking questions about that nice boy that lives by himself up in the hills, so I figured right away he’s up to no good. He asked me a lot of questions, but I grew sort of stupid and didn’t know any answers. What’s he after?”
“I don’t know, either, but I’m trying to find out.”
“If he keeps asking, somebody will tell him sooner or later. Did you know that boy chops me kindling in winter? And he brings fish from the stream? I sort of trade him a little jerky or whatever. I’ll spread the word, to say nothing. No sense in bringing problems down on him.”
Everyone still thought of Camilla as a boy. That was good because she might hide Camilla in plain sight if they looked only for a boy. Robin smiled at the idea and stepped out the door in time to see the Sword Master entering the Red Dog Inn again.
She strolled across the street and glanced at the open door of the inn. The other man still sat in front of a mug, but the one she followed wasn’t in sight. She opened the door further to see where he’d gone. The door flew open, pulling her with it. She let go and stumbled back, one step after another.
The Sword Master had waited inside the door for her, then hit it with his shoulder as she started inside. Her foot found a depression as she fell backward, and she was sitting on the ground. He reached her an instant later, wrapping his fingers in her hair and pulling her head back to expose her throat. A knife appeared in his other hand. He bent over and looked into her eyes as the edge touched her neck. “Don’t lie to me.”
She tried to nod, but his grip held her steady.
“Did you think you could follow without me noticing?”
Another attempted nod.
“Why?” He allowed her head to move forward enough to speak.
He was one step below royalty, probably working for the King. She washed clothes. He wouldn’t hesitate to kill her. She didn’t flinch or back down. “You’re strangers. Nobility is my guess. You want something, and if I can figure out what it is, maybe I can sell it to you.”
“You want money? Is that it? Okay, maybe we can work something out, woman. Do you know of any wildling boys living around here? About twelve years old?”
“Why do you want to know?”
Her head was pinned back again, the knife still touching her throat. He snarled, “Will you answer me?”
She nodded. When he allowed her to move her head, she said, “One. There’s only one boy around here.”
The blacksmith and a farmer named Jacob approached from opposite directions. The blacksmith still held a hammer.
He looked up. “This woman and I have business to discuss. Back away or the crown will have enough troops here to wipe this village clean of rebels.”
They hesitated. Robin found herself raised to her feet, his fingers still tangled in her hair, then she danced on air as he turned her to face him as he held her higher. “Talk to me, woman.”
The blacksmith and Miss Ann had tried to hide the ‘boy’, but others would certainly talk, especially if a reward were offered. In that case, all who lied were in danger but did not yet realize it. Telling this man freely would put doubt in his mind and not protect the villagers. She sputtered and asked, “How much will you pay me?”
“Your life. Is that enough?” He let her feet touch the ground as she snatched a breath.
She shook her head, hoping that was the response that would convince him she was telling the truth, and that she was only interested in gold.
“Two silver coins.” He let go of her hair.
She spat in the sand. “From the way you treat me, you’ll probably give me two so small they won’t buy a meal at the inn behind you.”
“I won’t cheat you, woman.”
“Pay me now, sir. I want to see four silver coins and some copper near my feet.”
His knife went back into his waistband, and his fingers moved to his fat purse. He pulled coins and let three silver and a few copper coins fall.
“I said, four silver.”
“Three, and your life. I’m tired of talking. If you don’t tell me, someone else will.”
Miss Ann and two other women now stood beside the blacksmith. Robin turned slightly and winked at them. Then she turned back to him. She pointed at the coins, then moved her finger to the forest in the opposite direction of Copper Mountain. “You cheated me, but I’ll tell you, anyway. The only wild boy around here lives in a cave somewhere in those trees beside a stream.”
“Over there?” He jutted his chin where she pointed. “Where?”
“Follow the road you arrived on until you come to the first little stream that crossed it, then turn up the hillside until you come to that dirty little cave of his. He’s always there unless he’s here in Nettleton sneaking around and stealing from one of us.”
The stranger glanced at the others.
The farmer nodded.
Miss Ann also pointed in the same direction as she had.
He dropped Robin in the dirt, where she scooped up her coins as if they were all important. He stood facing the others, hands on hips, a cruel smile splitting his face. His eyes fell to her, a snarl on his bloodless lips. “I would have paid you a hundred times that much, woman. But at least, you have something. These fools got nothing.”