Read Online Into the Wildewood by Gillian Summers - Free Book Online
Authors: Gillian Summers
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suit?”
Keelie shook her head. Plumpkin’s googly eyes rattled in their plastic sockets.
Vernerd cocked his head. “Ah, good. Let me recommend something. Don’t let the Merry Men push you around on the Bedlam Barrel ride after the Faire-is-over party.”
She didn’t speak, hoping he didn’t know who was inside the suit.
The minstrels gathered at the side of the clearing and began playing a sprightly Celtic tune. Vernerd smiled, again exposing his rotten teeth. Keelie made a note to use extra floss tonight.
“That’s my cue.” Vernerd hobbled away.
A knight walked past Keelie. He stopped and spun on his boots, then walked in a circle around her. He was nice to look at, with long dark brown hair pulled back in a tie. He wore a long green tunic over green tights, and black leather gloves covered his hands. “Ye dragon, begone from Sherwood Forest, for the good folk of Nottingham must deal with evil more vile than thee.”
Keelie held up her hands in mock surrender. The knight removed his sword from his scabbard and pressed the sword tip near Plumpkin’s neck. “Should I kill the dragon?”
There were shouts of “No!” from the crowd. One little voice rang out louder than the others: “Kill the dragon.” She knew who it belonged to. The little brat in black armor.
“Dragon, what say you?”
Again, Keelie held up her hands, or rather, her purple claws, in mock surrender. She could hear the black plastic eyes spinning round and round inside the round clear covers as she shook her head, pleading for her life. Maybe if the knight killed her now, then she wouldn’t have to do the parade. She’d better still get paid.
The handsome knight motioned toward the crowd. “Good people, your kindness allows me to let this dragon live, but evil Prince John will not be so fortunate.”
A fanfare erupted from atop the wooden gate. Long, pointed banners hung from the yard-long golden trumpets that the trumpeters blew in one direction, then another.
The handsome knight ran and hopped atop a stone. “Good people of Sherwood, be forewarned, rumor says that evil Prince John brings his new bride-to-be, the Princess Eleanor of Angouleme, to our fair town. You are safe, however. The Merry Men and I will save the good people of Nottingham from the treachery of Sir Guy of Gisbourne and the Sheriff until Good King Richard returns. So say I, Robin Hood!”
Loud clapping erupted from behind Keelie. She scooted to the side and ran into one of the Merry Men, who shoved her out of the way. She would’ve landed on her butt if she hadn’t grabbed the trunk of a maple tree. The branches reached down to steady her just as a breeze kicked up. Keelie looked up, and the branches in all the nearby trees began to sway. Good cover.
Thank you , Keelie thought.
A comforting green filled her mind. She didn’t sense any anger, or other emotional issues, from the maple like she had from the oaks.
A man in red, probably playing Will Scarlet, shouted, “Dragon, are you with the Merry Men or Prince John?”
How the heck did she know? She hadn’t read the script, and she hadn’t taken any improv classes, either.
From atop the wooden platform, Tarl, the former Muck and Mire man, waved to the crowd below. He was now dressed in royal velvet finery. He cleaned up well, but Keelie shuddered, remembering his naked, potato-shaped silhouette on a tent wall when he’d been “entertaining” a Faire goer at the High Mountain Faire. She’d be scarred for life—the image was burned into her mind.
Cheers erupted again.
Tarl raised his arms. “Greetings citizens and visitors, to the Wildewood Faire. Today is a most joyous occasion; for it is the day my betrothed arrives. Let us give her a Wildewood welcome.”
Another round of fanfare. Yeah, yeah, get on with it. Keelie hoped she’d have a moment to slip into a privy and remove her bra. That might help the itching. Through her mesh mouth-netting, she saw an ATM and suddenly remembered her
Keelie shook her head. Plumpkin’s googly eyes rattled in their plastic sockets.
Vernerd cocked his head. “Ah, good. Let me recommend something. Don’t let the Merry Men push you around on the Bedlam Barrel ride after the Faire-is-over party.”
She didn’t speak, hoping he didn’t know who was inside the suit.
The minstrels gathered at the side of the clearing and began playing a sprightly Celtic tune. Vernerd smiled, again exposing his rotten teeth. Keelie made a note to use extra floss tonight.
“That’s my cue.” Vernerd hobbled away.
A knight walked past Keelie. He stopped and spun on his boots, then walked in a circle around her. He was nice to look at, with long dark brown hair pulled back in a tie. He wore a long green tunic over green tights, and black leather gloves covered his hands. “Ye dragon, begone from Sherwood Forest, for the good folk of Nottingham must deal with evil more vile than thee.”
Keelie held up her hands in mock surrender. The knight removed his sword from his scabbard and pressed the sword tip near Plumpkin’s neck. “Should I kill the dragon?”
There were shouts of “No!” from the crowd. One little voice rang out louder than the others: “Kill the dragon.” She knew who it belonged to. The little brat in black armor.
“Dragon, what say you?”
Again, Keelie held up her hands, or rather, her purple claws, in mock surrender. She could hear the black plastic eyes spinning round and round inside the round clear covers as she shook her head, pleading for her life. Maybe if the knight killed her now, then she wouldn’t have to do the parade. She’d better still get paid.
The handsome knight motioned toward the crowd. “Good people, your kindness allows me to let this dragon live, but evil Prince John will not be so fortunate.”
A fanfare erupted from atop the wooden gate. Long, pointed banners hung from the yard-long golden trumpets that the trumpeters blew in one direction, then another.
The handsome knight ran and hopped atop a stone. “Good people of Sherwood, be forewarned, rumor says that evil Prince John brings his new bride-to-be, the Princess Eleanor of Angouleme, to our fair town. You are safe, however. The Merry Men and I will save the good people of Nottingham from the treachery of Sir Guy of Gisbourne and the Sheriff until Good King Richard returns. So say I, Robin Hood!”
Loud clapping erupted from behind Keelie. She scooted to the side and ran into one of the Merry Men, who shoved her out of the way. She would’ve landed on her butt if she hadn’t grabbed the trunk of a maple tree. The branches reached down to steady her just as a breeze kicked up. Keelie looked up, and the branches in all the nearby trees began to sway. Good cover.
Thank you , Keelie thought.
A comforting green filled her mind. She didn’t sense any anger, or other emotional issues, from the maple like she had from the oaks.
A man in red, probably playing Will Scarlet, shouted, “Dragon, are you with the Merry Men or Prince John?”
How the heck did she know? She hadn’t read the script, and she hadn’t taken any improv classes, either.
From atop the wooden platform, Tarl, the former Muck and Mire man, waved to the crowd below. He was now dressed in royal velvet finery. He cleaned up well, but Keelie shuddered, remembering his naked, potato-shaped silhouette on a tent wall when he’d been “entertaining” a Faire goer at the High Mountain Faire. She’d be scarred for life—the image was burned into her mind.
Cheers erupted again.
Tarl raised his arms. “Greetings citizens and visitors, to the Wildewood Faire. Today is a most joyous occasion; for it is the day my betrothed arrives. Let us give her a Wildewood welcome.”
Another round of fanfare. Yeah, yeah, get on with it. Keelie hoped she’d have a moment to slip into a privy and remove her bra. That might help the itching. Through her mesh mouth-netting, she saw an ATM and suddenly remembered her
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