Snippet #828469

"Eh? What'st?" Robyn croaked, taking a moment to rearrange herself to face the owner of the voice. And handsome enough fellow, and young as far as she could tell. Kind enough to offer a stranger a drink, which she accepted with the careful gratitude of a lone traveler on the road. "Ah, Godden, sir, Godden, an' thankee! Kind lad, good lad."

Leaning heavily on her new chosen staff, she sighed in a raspy imitation of the old men she knew from Nottingham, and wiped her mouth with the back of her sleeve. "Nottingham, is it? Ah, me boy, from Nottingham I do hail. Off to pay a wee indulgence to me ole brother in arms. Lost 'is legs where I lost me eyes, ye see. Nottingham, Nottingham. Is it there that ye find yerselves trekkin', milord? But I hear no coaches to accompany ye! And ye new to the woods, is it?"

Robyn clucked her tongue and turned, continuing to pick her way along the path.

"With a polished tongue such as ye have, me boy, I can only place me bet that ye be headed towards the castle an' the court an' all the king 'as to offer." She suddenly stopped, finding a rock to rest her make-believe old bones on, and sighing loudly in relief at it as she adjusted herself. "An' do I be mistaken but to hear the dainty steps of a lady accompanyin' ye? Off to catch the king's eyes, are ye sweet?" Robyn cackled quietly, rocking an elbow in place of a wink. "'Tis sour fruit ye seek to pluck if 'tis so, for sooth!"

With a sigh and a harrumph, Robyn settled the old blind man down. Then she leaned forward against her propped up stick, chin pointing towards her toes. "Now a touch o' advice seems fittin' fair for a drop o' clear water. What is't ye'd have from Old Robert, eh? Why seek ye Nottingham?"