He gave me a soft, small smile, but it blew off like smoke when his eyes dropped to my neck.
Rob turned from me, my fingers going cold where they had been warm, and I pulled my collar up tight against the bruises.
“Come on,” Rob told us, and we continued on to Lord Thoresby’s manor.
Thoresby’s loyal guards let us pass unbothered, and we went to the barn. It were warmer in there, full of animals and horses and wide-open space in the middle. There were three little people waiting for us.
Jack and Will Clarke came over to us, trailed by the littlest Morgan girl, Missy. She came and stood beside me, quiet, in a way that always made me want to tuck her under my coat. Jack went over to Rob and started yapping at him, and Will drifted slow to me.
“Hullo, Scarlet,” he said.
“Morning, Will.”
His cheeks threw up a red flame, and he looked at me and then away. His small chest puffed with breath and he looked at me again, his face turning angry and sour. “Did someone hurt you?” he demanded, his voice loud. “Was it a knight? I’ll kill him! I’m a much better shot now!”
At twelve, he weren’t much shorter than me, but I felt a need to kneel down. “No, no,” I told him quick. “My coat snagged on a tree and yanked me back, that were all.” I saw Rob turn away from me at the lie. “Besides, who would hurt me when you’re around to protect me?”
He looked at me, very solemn, and said, “I’ll cut down the tree if you show me which one. And if it’s not too tall.”
Trying to swallow my smile, I shook my head. “We can let the tree live.”
The barn door opened, and a few more of the children and women from the town came in. Will went to his brother, and Rob slipped up beside me.
“I hate to make you lie,” he whispered, his breath rushing over my ear and making shivers trickle down my spine like water.
I shrugged. “I’m a liar. Besides, he wouldn’t understand.”
“Are we supposed to understand?” John asked, glaring at Rob and not looking at me. “Because I don’t.”
“Shut it, John,” I told him with a frown.
“Will definitely wouldn’t. All he’d understand is someone that claims to love Scarlet is hurting her. He’d probably kill you, Rob,” John said, coming close. “Or happily die trying. I think the young man has a crush on Scar.”
“You would know what that looks like, wouldn’t you, John?” Rob asked, his voice iron hard.
“Rob!” I snapped.
But John just chuckled. “Well, who could blame me. I mean, you’re the love of her life, but I’m the one who knows what her kiss tastes like, right?”
The boys were glaring at each other, not paying a lick of mind to me. Which were fair fine with me, for John didn’t see it coming when I kneed him in the bits. He didn’t fall, but he howled and twisted away from me.
“What the damn hell, Scar!” he roared.
“You are my friend, John Little, you do not wag your chin about any bit of me like that,” I snapped. I whirled around. I wanted to slap Rob, but I didn’t. “And you. John’s trying to protect me from your dreams, your nightmares, something none of us fair well understand, so don’t bait him like that. It’s cruel and you know it.”
He swallowed, and he looked at me, his face open and worn. “I am cruel, Scar,” he said, like it were a confession. His eyes fell to my neck, and he shook his head. “Come,” he called loud, his voice rougher. He stepped away from me. “Let’s practice with the bows. John, are you well enough to help?”
John coughed and nodded to him. My heart twisted like a scrap of cloth, and I took the stairs two at a time to the hayloft. I sat on the edge, watching as the nine children and two women what had come lined up to listen to Rob teach them to defend themselves, and their homes, and their families.
Much came and sat beside me with a sigh.
“You have to know, with John—”
“I know,” I said. “I know better than you think.”
“He just wants to protect you.”
“I know he does. And I’ll always love him for it and many more reasons. But he and Rob are so awful to each other sometimes.”
Much gave a soft noise, and I turned and took in his sad and mournful face. He saw me looking and shrugged. “They may be awful to each other, but only because they know they’re brothers. And brothers can fight.” He paused a long stretch. “They don’t fight with me,” he said.
“We’re all family,” I told him. “They just think of you like the baby.”
He frowned. “I’m not a baby. I’ve grown a few inches, I think.”
“I know.”
He scowled. “You know?”
I laughed. “All your pants are short.”
“Scarlet?”
I turned and looked to the stair where Missy Morgan stood, hanging back. She were as pretty as milk and sun, more short and quiet than her two sisters, but she were the jewel amongst them. She crowded the rail, her shoulders sunk in.