They did find me a better club. I tried telling them I had a warhammer being held back at an inn, but John pointed out I could find myself in need of a good weapon before I got back there. And knowing my luck he could be right.

  Robbie handed me a handwritten note. I started to open it but she put her hand over mine. “I know I can’t stop you from reading it the moment you ride out of here, but I am going to ask you not to.”

  Ride out of here? But I asked, “Why are you giving me this if I am not supposed to read it?”

  “It’s for Mary,” Robbie actually blushed slightly. “It is in part to let her know that you come with the blessing of the Merry Men and it is an explanation of some,” she paused, “recent events,” she ended cryptically.

  I took it and put it into my inventory without opening it. Scarlock was handing me a sturdy metal bound wooden club when my notifications started binging. I mentally swiped them away. I wanted to get to my next question.

  “I noticed you said ‘when I ride out of here,’” I said.

  Robbie and Scarlock looked at me quizzically.

  “I don’t have a horse. I had been expecting to walk out of here. On my own two feet.”

  Scarlock tilted his head and the ridiculous red feather he had in his hat flopped dramatically to the side. “That is right. When you found you out in the south woods, you were indeed lacking a mount. Why don’t you have a horse?”

  I don’t think I could explain to them that up until the sturdy bay mare they had loanded me no horse had tolerated me sitting on its back. So I shrugged and said, “I couldn’t find a nice quiet one to ride that wasn’t a work horse.” This must have been plausible enough as they nodded.

  “We could give her that mare,” John offered. “If she is going to go save Mary it would be good if she was moving faster than walking.”

  Scarlock snorted. “We stole that mare we can steal another if we get low.”

  They both looked to Robbie for final approval. She smiled at Scarlock. “You just want to go raid the royal stables again.” The grin he returned confirmed that was true.

  “Sure, give her the mare. Make sure the tack is in good repair and make sure she has some supplies. Both for her and the horse.”

  A woman who’s name I hadn’t caught strode off to get Shamoly ready.

  “Not that we haven’t come to enjoy your, and your strange little companion’s company I think you should head out right away,” She looked up at the treetops through to the sky above. “There are a few good hours of daylight left in the day.”

  I nodded. On horseback I might even be able to get back to Scott’s Hill before it was full dark. Well depending on how much rest Shamoly had managed to get whilst we had all fought. I wasn’t all that tired despite having ridden all night then fought all morning.

  “But first you should have a well earned meal.” She turned away and when I went to follower her, John put a large hand on my shoulder. His palm was heavy but the touch was gentle.

  “Let her go. Even after a regular fight she likes to dine alone. Or with Mary,” He paused and removed his hand. “Come, a luncheon spread will be laid out.”

  Scarlock scowled dramatically at the sun that was touching the tops of the trees around the village. “Luncheon? Awfully late for lunch. Though I suppose it is too early for a proper dinner.”

  John lightly punched the scarlet clad man in good natured exasperation. I smiled but missed my friends even more. I went through the messages as I trailed behind the two men.

  [Rositilda] - This time dilation is wild. I am not sure how to figure out when I will be at the our meeting spot compared to your time. I am on my way now. I have to walk from Bistmore as I don’t have it saved.

  [Rositilda] - Robin Hood? That sounds like an interesting take on the tale. Though your starting area seems full of oddly disjointed storylines. But those are puzzles for another day.

  [Rositida] - Oh and a note. Keep being careful of what you say in these chats. They aren’t private. Can’t wait to see you!

  Our meeting place? She wasn’t even comfortable mentioning the Dew Drop Inn? What was going on in the wider world?

  [Barry] - Communist Robin Hood? Do they know Marx? And how accurate is it? Did you know that the orginal Robin Hood may have been mercenary who fought more with sword than with bow? You will have to tell me all about it when we meet up later.

  Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

  Another personal message, yet one that was oddly bland and devoid of specific details.

  [Ayerelia] - Nothing is as good as sparkles. A monochromatic man sounds terrible. Shine on the drama or don’t bother. Oh and I have been shopping for you.

  With that cryptic and slightly worrisome note I closed my HUD. But I was smiling.

  The food spread was fantastic if simple. The village had put out tables of food and drink for everyone to eat a communal meal and come together after the fight. It reminded me of the meal after we fought the moles. That felt like another lifetime ago.

  Children ran around. I looked down to find a pair of pleading terrier eyes looking up at me. “Go ahead. But remember we haven’t made friends here the same way as before. The villagers don’t know you. So be good.” She closed her eyes at me at the “be good” part but wagged her tail in agreement and trotted off to join in. Now there were laughing and squealing children and a small dog running underfoot and darting under the tables. I hoped this wouldn’t anger the adults. But they seemed to be in an indulgent mood.

  The mood of the people was interesting, now that I was paying attention. There was a certain levity from surviving the battle but it was dampened by the abduction of Mary. I listened to snippets of conversation as I filled my plate. People were talking of both. I learnt that they were planning on abandoning the village now that the guard knew where it was and that their Maid Marion was much beloved.

  Standing around with some of the men and women I had fought with I ate hearty bread, a variety of cheeses, and a sausage. I chose a mug of thin vegetable stew over the beer. I had had enough beer in this game. My strength was mentioned a few times but Dekka’s transformation was a definite highlight in many stories. It was surprising that no one had an issue with the hellhound in the midst of their children. Yet as I watched a boy, just a little too young to have been fighting, sneak my dog a whole sausage I was very happy the NPCs accepted her and all it took was a fabric bow.

  This game was weird. At least some of the weird was in my favour. Not everything in here was horrible.

  I had just finished eating when the woman who had left earlier came back leading Shamoly. The mare was placidly walking through the crowd, only the occasional ear flick at the hubbub around her.

  “I guess that’s my cue,” I said to the small group around me, excusing myself. Calling Dekka I went to find John.

  He and Scarlock were in deep conversation with a man of the cloth. I blinked. The man had a tonsure. This must be Friar Tuck. Part of me wished I could stay longer and get to know these people. But I had my own storyline to solve.

  Scarlock looked up and nudged John who spoke, “Elizabeth, you heading out?”

  “Yup, seems my ride awaits,” I gestured to Shamoly who at that moment was eating leaves of a branch ignoring everything else. John didn’t so much as smile. I had thought that was funny.

  He clasped my hand firmly and looked into my eyes. “You be careful. Yes we want Mary back, but the capital is no place for good people.” His eyes looked troubled.

  Was this part of the storyline? Hating the place of nobles and wealth or did he know something? I gave him a nod and decided to hurry out. Hopefully to find my friends waiting.

  Shamoly trotted along the road happily enough. When I had ridden as a teen there was one horse I rode that was great on trails if other’s were around but refused to leave the barn alone. This sturdy little mare was the best. She wasn’t fancy, but I bet even Ayerelia would be jealous. Not only did I have a dog, I now had a horse!

  Dekka was running beside us her tongue hanging out her eyes alight. If she got tired I had a bag prepared for her. But so far she seemed fine. The wind in my hair, the sun low and gliding the leaves of the mature trees and their top branches. The air smelled fresh, if tinged with horse. The steady two beat clops of Shamoly’s shod hooves on the packed dirt was hypnotic. I was off to get my hammer and find my friends. A deep sense of contentment enveloped me. For once everything felt right with the world. Even though I knew this wasn’t so, this feeling was perfection.

  Why had I given up riding back in the real world?

  What would have taken me a day of walking only took a few hours on horseback. We trotted most of the way with some walk breaks and one lovely canter down a smooth part of the road that looked free from rocks. Dekka refused all offers of a ride and was exhausted by the time we got to Richard’s inn.

  He looked surprised when I went in and asked him if he had stabling. “When did you get a horse?”

  “Very recently.”

  “I do have a stable. But there are only a couple of stalls for the merchants’ ponies when they head through. They might be too small for a draft horse.”

  “Oh she’s not a work horse, she’s a riding horse. A small one but not a pony.”

  He gave me a look. It was obvious he was trying not to be suspicious. Most people around here had work horses. A few families had ponies for taking goods to market as well as the merchants. Ponies are very cheap to feed. Most of them get fat just looking at grass. But an actual riding horse was something only nobles had. To my mind it would make sense that adventurer’s should have them, but with players not being allowed mounts I could understand his suspicions.

  “She was a gift.”

  His eyes narrowed. Now that I thought about it, that did seem even more suspicious. Who would give away a riding horse? And in fact she was a stolen horse. I just hadn’t been the one to steal her.

  Richard walked out and looked at my horse. Could I put a big bow on her and have the NPCs not question her presence? A bit late in this situation.

  “You’re right; that mare isn’t very big.” He eyed her with critical appraisal. He looked me up and down. “With that wide barrel, I bet she takes up your leg nicely, though.” The man knew horses. He was right: as tall as I was, and the fact that she couldn’t be more than 15.2, she was so wide my legs didn’t dangle. Why would Richard know horses?

  He looked me dead in the eye and asked, “Did you steal this horse?”

  “No.”

  He looked down at Dekka sprawled on the path and made up his mind.

  “Okay, you go in and sit down. I have a boy who looks after my cow and goats. He can give her a rub down and feed her.”

  I guess I was the person with the strange animals.

  “Her name is Shamoly,” I said as her round shiny mahogany coloured rump disappeared into the gloom of the bank barn door.

  SO MUCH TALKING ABOUT WRITING. We talked about our fictions in a coffee shop before dinner. Then we talked about writing and future fiction in the restaurant till they politely asked us to leave (fair, it was very busy and we had been there a while) then we found what we thought was a quiet bar and talked about writing until a drag show broke out.

  Also check out their stories! They are all nice people with crazy imaginations.