Chapter 1

The boy had been chased some distance, there were prints of many horses. He had been chased down like an animal. This boy was an outlaw, Mathew was sure of it. He had an innocent boyish face but even innocents could insult the sheriff and his men. It wasn't hard to fall out of favour in these troubled times.

He would not turn him out. He was a boy. He couldn't be any more than sixteen and he was sick. Wisps of flaming red hair were stuck matted to the side of his face as a fever raged within him.

They had found him out in the open by their barn, or more accurately their son had found him as he went to do his morning chores. He lay face down in the mud. Mathew had shut his wife and children into their modest shack as he went over and anxiously kicked out at the figure laying sprawled in his yard. He didn't move. With some misgivings he decided to do more. He picked the youth up and carried him into the barn.

Mathew's wife tended to him begrudgingly. She would see to him because Mathew, her husband said it must be so but she wasn't best pleased.

"What if one of the children comes down with the fever," she muttered as she fetched up more water. "Risking our youngsters for a worthless ruffian."

"It's Herne's will, this boy come to us," he muttered gruffly.

He followed her into the barn and as she ascended the ladder he handed the pale of water up to her.

He came up as she stripped covers from the shivering boy and began to wash his face. He whimpered slightly as she worked but she ignored it until her husband stalled her hand. Pulling blankets further down he found a large blood stain on the lads tunic. Lifting up the tunic they stared with wide eyes at the weeping angry gash festering on his white freckled skin.

"A wound to the ribs like that can only mean battle," Mathew muttered.

His wife did not reply. Gently she began cleaning the wound.

"Shhh," she soothed as he began to squirm, hissing threw gritted teeth.

As she got deeper into the wound the boy began to struggle. Mathew took hold and kept him still so she could clean it thoroughly.

"He'll probably not be with us by morning, that's a fatal wound," she commented.

With a new wave of searing pain the boy's dark eyes shot open and he called out.

"Robin, Robin help me."

Both Mathew and his wife exchanged looks.

Sure enough, this boy was an outlaw.