23
Joanna studied the outlaw bleeding in Jill’s arms and debated how they were going to get him out of the castle. Someone was raising the portcullis for the sheriff. Elaine had been right—the people of Locksley weren’t about to continue the siege, especially now that Guy was dead. Joanna didn’t blame them. They were pawns, trying to survive while caught between two powerful men. However, before Locksley surrendered to the sheriff, Joanna, Jill, Robin, and everyone the twins cared about in the twelfth century needed to get out of the castle now.
Sirsalon and Elaine were at Joanna’s side as Will and Little John lifted Robin off the ground and draped his arms across their shoulders to balance his weight between them.
“Follow me,” Sirsalon ordered. He led the way to the kitchen.
“Gripple, go with Robin,” Elaine urged. “It’s not safe for you here.”
“You’re coming too, Mum!” Will ordered.
The castle gate was open now and the sheriff’s soldiers streamed in. Some of the people raised their hands in surrender while others began to fight. Joanna hoped no more innocent people would die. There had been enough bloodshed today. Sirsalon paused when they rounded the keep and Joanna immediately saw why. Soldiers were walking out the kitchen door—the tunnel had been breached.
“The chapel tunnel!” Elaine called. “Joanna found the key.”
“Everyone, go!” Sirsalon ordered as Joanna fished the Roman key from her pocket. “I’ll distract them.”
Before anyone could protest, he raised his sword in challenge and charged the soldiers at the kitchen door. Since the chapel was next to the kitchen, the soldiers would see them escaping. At best, Sirsalon could only buy a few seconds of confusion.
Elaine and Joanna ran to the chapel, Gripple, Jill, and the three outlaws close behind them. Elaine had time to close the door and bar it before the soldiers rammed against it. John dropped Robin to the floor so he and Will could lean their shoulders against the doorframe to brace it further.
“Help me move the altar,” Elaine ordered.
Joanna and Gripple each held a corner of the altar and moved it to the side while Jill pulled away the kneeling bench and Elaine removed the rug, revealing a trap door underneath.
Lifting the door, Elaine pointed to the darkness beneath it. “There’s a door a few feet beyond the bottom of the stairs. Make sure to lock it behind you in case they get past me. There’s another door at the far end you’ll have to unlock as well, Joanna, so hold on to the key.”
Joanna slipped it onto her right index finger so she wouldn’t drop it. “Any tricks to the lock I should know about?”
Elaine took hold of Joanna’s fist to illustrate how to hold her hand. “Thumb on top, key sideways, straight into the hole. Rotate it to the left to unlock, the right to lock.”
“Got it.”
Jill pulled a candle off the altar. “No disrespect meant,” she said. “But anybody got a light?”
Elaine fished a flint from her pocket and struck it against the floor to light the candle. Jill held it and nodded encouragingly at Joanna, indicating Jill remembered how Joanna hated small spaces but wasn’t going to share that knowledge with the group.
A collision on the other side of the door jarred John with such force that his body shook. “We need to hurry!” he said.
With a deep breath, Joanna descended the steep stairs, reminding herself that her safety and Jill’s as well as everyone else’s depended on her descending this narrow staircase and entering a tight tunnel underground with hardly any light, plenty of spider webs, and maybe no way out. Her hands shook and her knees felt unsteady as she walked farther from the light. She jumped when a black figure leaped at the bottom of the steps, but it was only her shadow cast by the candle Jill carried.
“You can do it,” Jill whispered.
As the men descended the stairs behind them, Jill held the light so Joanna could find the keyhole. She held her hand as Elaine had shown her. The key slid easily into the lock and when Joanna turned her wrist to the left, the tumbler clicked. She pushed the door open to the long, dark tunnel behind it.
“Don’t you wish Gordon could see you?” Jill joked. “Now you know exactly how to open a door.”
Joanna allowed herself a nervous laugh. “He’d never believe me, though. Go through. I’ve got to stay to lock the door behind us.”
Jill’s concerned face indicated she understood how difficult this was for Joanna, but she nodded and passed through the doorframe, using her candle to illuminate the way for everyone who followed. From what Joanna could tell, this passage was wider than the chapel tunnel, but the ceiling was a little lower. She hated low ceilings. They made her feel like the world was pressing down on her.
Gripple came next, then Robin. His features were hardly discernible in the pale light, but he bowed slightly as he hobbled past, obviously in pain.
“Robin Hood,” he said with a strained voice. “Pleased to meet you, Joanna.”
“And you.” Despite the danger, she smiled at the odd circumstances of the introduction.
Little John was so big that even when Joanna pressed herself against the wall, there was no spare room between them and Joanna did her best to ignore how awkward it felt as he squeezed by. He muttered an apology.
Will, the last to enter, turned back to call to Elaine. “Mum?”
“Someone has to hide the trap door, Will.”
Before he could protest, Elaine slammed the door shut, leaving Will and Joanna in darkness.
“What’s she doing?”
Joanna found Will’s arm and pushed him through the door ahead of her. Groping for the edge of the door in the darkness, she closed it, found the keyhole by touch and slid in the key. She heard a scraping from the floor above, probably Elaine moving the altar back in place, and then the splintering of wood that must have been the soldiers breaking through the chapel door. Joanna’s heart broke for Elaine, but she couldn’t let the older woman’s sacrifice be in vain. Joanna twisted her wrist to the right and heard the door lock. This would hold the soldiers at least for a little while, but there was no time to dawdle.
Rising, she clutched her right hand in a fist to her chest so that she wouldn’t drop the key and used her left hand to feel the wall. Jill was already so far ahead that Joanna couldn’t see any light, but she heard the footsteps echoing in the cave. Her panic was growing. What if the ceiling fell in? What if she was trapped? What if the soldiers got through and attacked her from behind? What if she died down here? Her ears began to ring and she felt dizzy. The walls were closing in. She couldn’t breathe.
“Joanna! Are you coming?”
It was Jill’s voice.
“I’m coming,” Joanna replied, feeling how small her voice sounded. She started moving forward again, and a faint light ahead became evident. She could see dark forms behind the light and knew she was catching up to the others.
“The tunnel’s a little wider and taller up here,” Jill called back. “We’ll stand still so you can get to the front.”
“Oh, I’m okay,” Joanna lied, not wanting to call more attention to her claustrophobia than she had to.
“We’ll need you to open the door, silly,” Jill explained.
Joanna pushed her way forward until she came upon the first shadow she decided was Will. “I’m coming up on the right,” she called.
“Everyone to the left,” Jill ordered, and the men complied. Joanna pressed herself flat against the wall to the right and slid forward, one step at a time, with almost every part of her body brushing up against whatever man was beside her.
“Excuse me. Sorry. Pardon me,” Joanna said as she slipped through. When she finally passed Gripple, she saw Jill’s smiling face illuminated in the candlelight. Joanna moved to pass Jill but Jill blocked her way. “How about I go first, since I have the candle, and that way I can help you find the door?
Joanna knew exactly what Jill was doing and appreciated it. Jill was taking the front pos
ition and keeping Joanna close to the light to help Joanna’s claustrophobia. As the group moved on, Joanna focused on the light and put one foot in front of the other. Much to Joanna’s disgust, Jill didn’t look like she was bothered at all by the experience.
“This reminds me of spelunking,” Jill remarked as they moved ahead. “That would be something fun to do together, wouldn’t it?”
“I don’t think so,” Joanna said quickly. “With my luck, I would crawl out of a cave and meet a dinosaur.”
“What’s a dinosaur?” Gripple asked.
“Really scary monster,” Joanna answered. “You’d probably call it a dragon.”
“What do they look like?”
For the next few minutes, Joanna distracted herself as she tried to describe a Tyrannosaurus rex to Gripple. He was delighted and asked her if she knew stories of any other monsters. She was halfway through explaining what Pteranodons and Pteradactyls were when Jill interrupted.
“Here’s the other door. We’ve almost made it.”
Jill stepped aside so Joanna could kneel in front of the door to unlock it. Joanna was a little surprised to find the keyhole on the left instead of the right as it had been on the other door. Jill held the light close while Joanna slipped the key into the hole. Joanna tried to turn her wrist to the left as she had on the first door, but the lock resisted. However, after a little experimentation, she discovered the key turned to the right. She heard the lock click, but when she pushed against the door. It didn’t budge.
Joanna glanced at the four men waiting behind her and thought about the soldiers who might even now be breaking down the tunnel door behind them. Again she inserted the key. This time, when she turned it to the left, it clicked.
“I think I locked it.”
Joanna pushed against the door in vain. She crouched by the keyhole and again turned the key to the right, hearing it click. But when she pushed the door, it was stuck.
“I’m sure it’s unlocked,” she told Jill.
“Maybe if we both push against it,” Jill suggested.
Both women braced their shoulders against the door and strained, but the door didn’t even creak.
“Maybe something’s blocking the way,” Gripple proposed. “A big rock or something.”
“Impossible.” Robin’s voice sounded polite but impatient. “Joanna, are you sure it’s unlocked?”
Joanna felt her face growing warm from the implied criticism. “Yes, I’m sure,” she snapped. “Do you want to come up here and try it?”
“No need to get snippy,” Jill chided.
Joanna pulled the key off her finger and handed it to Jill. “Here.”
Shrugging, Jill passed Joanna the candle, examined the key, then held it in her fingers as she slid it into the lock and turned the key back and forth several times, with it clicking each time.
“That’s weird,” Jill conceded. “It does seem to be unlocked.” Jill pushed against the door with her palm. “But it’s not opening.”
Little John grunted as he moved his bulk past Robin and Gripple. “Time for the strong man to try.”
Joanna and Jill pressed themselves against the wall as John squeezed by. He pushed his right shoulder into the door to no avail. He groaned and strained, but nothing happened.
“Maybe I need a running start.”
He was backing up to charge the door when Joanna placed a hand on his back. “Hold on a second! Let me think.”
She knew the door was unlocked. She had heard the lock click. On the first door, the lock had been on the right and she turned the key left to unlock it, right to lock it. On this second door, the lock was on the left and she turned the key right to unlock it, left to lock it. Exact opposites…
“I’ve got it!”
Rising, she grasped hold of the metal ring in the middle of the door and pulled it toward her. The door swung open, revealing a gray passage ahead that promised an exit into sunlight.
“Pull, don’t push,” Joanna said softly.
Jill started to snicker, short little bursts of laughter that increased in frequency like popping corn. Suddenly, she snorted, and this was enough to make Joanna lose her composure. Joanna had always had a loud laugh, and now it erupted and suddenly she was laughing so hard she was crying, gasping for breath and doubled over. When Joanna caught sight of her twin, Jill had dropped the candle and slid to the floor, holding her sides while shaking with mirth. Joanna pointed at the door handle and tried to repeat, “Pull, don’t push,” but she couldn’t even finish before she was laughing again.
“Will you two pull yourselves together?” Robin’s voice sounded strained. “The sheriff’s men might be waiting for us out there.”
At this, the twins were able to gain control. Wiping the tears from her eyes, Joanna was the first to step through the doorway. She only had to walk another fifteen feet to find herself in the blinding light. She closed her eyes, letting the sun shine red through her eyelids until her pupils adjusted to the brightness. When she opened her eyes, John and Robin stood beside her. Robin’s arm was wrapped around John’s shoulder as the bigger man supported him. Robin squinted into the forest as if he was looking for something or someone.
“We appear to be alone,” Robin said. “Could someone signal the others?” He nodded toward the horn on his belt.
Will retrieved it and blew seven notes—one long, six short. Joanna recognized the sound. She had heard it four days before when her horse charged into the fog and the year 1193.
She had better lock the door. Retreating back into the tunnel, Joanna pulled the door closed, turned the key to lock it, and pushed against the wood to be sure the opening was secure. As she did so, Gripple entered the tunnel behind her.
“What do you think happened to my mum?”
Joanna didn’t want to frighten him by repeating what she heard. Instead, she touched his arm. “Your mother is one of the most resourceful people I’ve ever met. She and Sirsalon have survived a lot worse than this. They’ll be all right.”
Still glum, Gripple nodded and returned with her outside where a group of Robin’s men had appeared. When they saw Joanna, they nodded a greeting while their eyes traveled up her body and she realized she was being admired.
Jill pointed at Robin’s chest and arm. “We need to bandage you up.”
They moved several hundred yards into the forest when Robin slid down beside a tree. As Jill used her first-aid skills to assess his wound, Joanna knelt beside her, looking for ways to be helpful.
“We need bandages,” Jill said with a frown. “We’ve got to bind this up so it doesn’t keep bleeding.” Jill reached for the bottom of her own cloak to tear it, but Joanna stopped her.
“I’ve got a better idea.”
Lifting her skirt to reveal the long chemise below, Joanna began tearing off strips of it to give to Jill. When she had torn as much as she dared from the chemise, she started tearing the bottom of the skirt.
“Are you sure you want to do that?” Jill asked.
“Easier to run through the forest this way,” Joanna said. “Plus, this belonged to Marian. She’d want me to use it for a good cause.”
At the mention of Marian, Robin opened his eyes. “If she knew I was innocent and she had the key, why didn’t she come to me?”
Jill frowned as she wrapped the bandages around Robin’s chest but didn’t speak. Joanna knew this was a touchy topic, especially given Robin’s feelings for Jill, and wished she hadn’t brought up Marian’s name. But leaving his question hanging seemed worse than answering it.
“Maybe she was thinking about it,” Joanna suggested. “You didn’t have a choice about becoming an outlaw. But Marian did. Coming to you would have been a big decision—it would have changed her entire life. Maybe she wasn’t ready for that level of commitment.”
Jill cut her eyes at Joanna with a look that told Joanna she had hit too close to Jill’s actual thoughts. Robin seemed to understand this as well because he reached out to hold Jill’s hand.
Sensing the couple needed some privacy, Joanna excused herself.
While she wasn’t dressed immodestly by twenty-first-century standards, Joanna immediately felt the eyes of the merry men on her as they gazed appreciatively at her legs, exposed from knee to ankle below her now-short skirt. This was probably some huge breach of medieval manners. She shrugged. Jill had offered her an outlaw costume yesterday, so Joanna wouldn’t have to wear Marian’s clothes for much longer. The idea of changing shoes seemed particularly attractive as the thin slippers she wore did nothing to pad her feet from the stones, thistles, and burrs she encountered in the forest.
Little John stood about twenty yards away, keeping watch through the ferns, birches, and oaks for possible pursuers. Joanna walked over to him and bumped his arm affectionately with her shoulder.
“Nice to see you again, John. I’m really glad you weren’t executed.”
“Joanna, I owe you an apology.”
She held up a hand to stop him. “I’m the one who should apologize. I opened my big mouth and started talking.”
“You do speak beautifully—even if it’s a bit far-fetched at times. I’ve been thinking about those flying ships with silver wings. You don’t truly have those in the future, do you?”
Joanna laughed. “There are more things in heaven and earth, John, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”
“Did you write that?”
“No. I got it from a talented author named Shakespeare who will show up in about five hundred years.”
“Speaking of authors, I don’t know if you remember my telling you about my nephew, Alan-a-dale, who’s our minstrel.” Little John’s eyes twinkled.
“Oh yeah. I think I met him yesterday at the tournament.”
“He’s in need of some…tutoring. His songs have been declining lately, and I think he’d benefit from your help. If you have time, that is.”
Joanna glanced over her shoulder to see Robin and Jill kissing. “I’m pretty sure I’ve got time.”