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    Sherwood Forest: Foreigner
    Sherwood Forest: Foreigner
    Sherwood Forest: Foreigner
    Ebook49 pages49 minutes

    Sherwood Forest: Foreigner

    By Laura McVey

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    About this ebook

    After fleeing from Robin's camp, Shaima is accosted by the Sheriff of Nottingham and must decide where her loyalties lie.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherLaura McVey
    Release dateJul 15, 2014
    ISBN9781311983909
    Sherwood Forest: Foreigner
    Author

    Laura McVey

    Laura McVey is a university graduate with a minor in history, though neither of these things seem to have done her any good yet. She writes stories about heroes and kissing.

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      Book preview

      Sherwood Forest - Laura McVey

      Sherwood Forest: Foreigner

      by Laura McVey

      Copyright 2014 Laura McVey

      Smashwords Edition

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold

      or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person,

      please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did

      not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your

      favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard

      work of this author.

      Jaffa, Palestine

      1192

      The air was thick and soupy with heat, and so Shaima hadn’t been able to fall asleep for hours. She’d tossed and turned on her pallet, listening to her sisters’ light snuffles and her mother’s laboured breathing before finally drifting into a half-doze, still too aware of the oppressive heat to sleep properly. When Rashad began to whimper, she was awake almost immediately, and stood to cross the room and pick her brother up from his cradle. He kicked at her as she cradled him, face screwed up and red, nuzzling at the bodice of her shirt in search of milk. Shaima sighed.

      Bibi, she whispered, tip-toeing over to the pallet her mother slept on. Bibi slept rarely; when she did manage to fall asleep, her coughing often woke her after only a few hours. So looking down at her sleeping mother, Shaima sighed. Rashad whimpered in her arms again, stretching small arms out for someone to feed him. Shaima knelt down and shook her mother’s shoulder lightly, painfully aware of how thin it was. Bibi? He’s hungry.

      Bibi raised herself up on her elbows, wheezing lightly. She stretched her arms out and Shaims deposited Rashad into them, then sat back on her heels to wait until they were done. She had to take the baby back to his cradle when he was finished feeding; her mother wasn’t strong enough to rise from the bed without help, and the trip from one side of the room to another would drain her.

      For several minutes, the baby sucked, only breaking the silence of the room with quiet hiccups. Then Bibi’s shoulders hunched forward, dislodging him as she began to cough wetly. Rashad made an outraged noise, and Shaima quickly took him from their mother’s arms before he began to wail. Bibi was curled forward in on herself, holding her stomach while she coughed and coughed.

      I’ll find something for him in the kitchen, Shaima said softly. Go back to sleep, Bibi. One-handed, she helped her mother lie back down and pulled her blanket into place- she was always cold, even in the warmer months.

      It’s all right, she whispered to Rashad, who had begun to whimper again in her arms. She wanted very badly to believe it.

      She opened her eyes.

      It was no longer hot, but dark and wet and cold. It took her a moment to remember where she was. That wasn’t new; every morning when she woke up, she experienced one panicked moment of confusion before she remembered. She was in England, in Sherwood Forest. She was sleeping on the ground surrounded by snow, and her family was thousands of leagues away.

      But it wasn’t morning; it was still dark. She’d planned this, reminded herself before falling asleep that she had to wake before any of the men. She sat up gingerly, holding her blankets tightly. The cold hadn’t been kind fo her; her joints creaked when she moved. It didn’t matter. She wouldn’t be cold for much longer.

      She’d secreted her pack in a knot in one of the trees; when she retrieved it, she found that it had stayed mercifully dry. In it was a small collection of apples and bread, and the coin purse Robin had carried with him to Nottingham. He’d been so distracted since returning, he hadn’t even noticed that she’d

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