A Thief's Game

By Caylen D. Smith

In a time of misfortune and loss, the kingdom of Bullan is ruled by a greedy and murderous king. He demands exorbitant taxes of his people and when his demands are not fulfilled, the consequences are severe. Death knocks on every door sooner or later, and unfortunately it was sooner for young Emersyn Hale. When the king’s guards killed her twin brother and her father, Emersyn was forced to hide and listen while Death did his work. Now, nine years later, eighteen-year-old Emersyn is a different person, forged from a life of crime and a burning desire for revenge. Her people call her Robyn Hoode, but only her band of thieves knows her true identity. She is a hero who will do anything to steal from the king and give back to those who need it most. But putting an end to Hoode’s crimes becomes the ruthless king’s top priority. Now it seems the consequences of her long-term actions may be her own appointment with Death.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Caylen D. Smith
• Release date: Oct 14, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370221233

Caylen D. Smith

CAYLEN D. SMITH was born and raised in Southern California. She published Ripples, her debut young adult novel in the Guardian Series, at the age of nineteen. Now, five books later, A Thief's Game, is her first book in The Robyn Hoode Chronicles. Smith holds a Bachelors Degree in English. She enjoys reading, drawing and attending plays and musicals.

Book preview

Have you heard? He struck again.

The local tavern was busier at this time of year due to the summer heat and longer workdays. The sweltering temperatures took their toll on the residents and travelers to Severna. But why anyone would choose to stop here was beyond Emersyn’s reasoning.

The place always smelled of sweat, combined with the despicable scent of smoke that lingered above the tables, eternally crowded with men. The alcohol was often so pungent, its repulsive odor caused some men to rush out through the barely hinged wooden door to empty their stomachs.

Emersyn Hale secluded herself from it all. Sitting on a stool at the end of the bar, she nursed a wonderful ale. That was the easiest spot in this dive for her to listen in on conversations. A group of guards and some rugged men gathered around a table, their mugs filled to the brim and cards in hand. They caught her eye. She didn’t miss the glitter of gold coins piled in the middle of the table.

Are you daft? Of course I heard! Everyone has. The guard that was talking was named Kingsley. His carefully trimmed beard seemed to require a good bit of money, time, and effort to maintain. How prudish.

She took a sip of her ale and signaled the barmaid for another refill.

A skinny fellow with dirt on his cheeks, who must have been taking a break from his long journey, stopped to rest in the village. Juno, she recalled his name, as he chimed in, I hear it is a ghost. A man who was murdered for his riches. So, now he haunts the woods in Bullan, and ambushes the unfortunate souls who wander there.

The one who began the conversation, Geoffrey, threw another bounty of coins into the pile before wiggling the toothpick between his perfect white teeth. You believe that? A ghost? No ghost could do that much harm.

The barmaid refilled her mug and Emersyn tossed a silver piece her way. She sipped on her drink as a faint smile tugged at her lips.

Kingsley cursed under his breath as he reached for another card. Ghost or man, he is giving the king plenty of trouble. I hear there is a sizeable bounty on his head. He stroked his brown beard, studying the cards in his hand. They say he’s a man who wears a hooded cloak, as dark as night, but when the light shines on it, it is as red as the crimson of a robin bird’s feathers. Robyn Hoode is what the little mongrel’s name is.

Geoffrey pulled out his toothpick and pointed to every man at the table. Well, then, this is the first time you will hear it from me. I’ll be taking that man, and slicing his head clean off his shoulders before I send it to the king! I’ll bind it up into a tidy little package with that hooded cloak of his as the wrapper! You hear how much the reward is?

Everyone leaned in closer. They could almost hear the jingle of coins in the heavy award pouch.

Five thousand gold coins, he blurted out before adding, that is twice my lifetime of earnings in my efforts to keep food on the table.

Another man, Tevrin, with his gut jutting out of his tunic, barked a laugh. I bet he isn’t too hard to capture. No one has really tried, at least, none that I know of.

Emersyn tightened her hold on the mug, but remained silent. However, she turned her head slightly to better hear the man’s claims.

He seems like a coward to me. Plundering the king’s men and stealing the riches for himself; how utterly foolish! He’s only thinking of himself. Wave three gold coins in his face, and he’ll be scurrying out of the hellhole he hides in, he snapped his fingers, and there! You have yourself a little rat by the tail.

The smile vanished from Emersyn’s lips as she set her feet on the floor. Removing her violet hood, she stood before the six men. They continued their discussion about the mysterious fellow who plundered yet another town not too far from their village.

She cleared her throat, instantly earning the stares of the men, but fastening her eyes on Tevrin. Have room for one more? Silence. Then raucous laughter filled the room. She narrowed her gaze, studying each man who was sitting there. Most were older than her, maybe old enough to be an uncle or father.

A girl like you? Can you even hold a card? Tevrin chided. She looked at the clothes he wore and her heart jumped—another guard. Four guards, a young man, and a traveler… how… perfect.

Folding her arms, she raised a brow at the man and waited. How about making a bet then?

Curiosity and greed shone from his eyes as his stare traveled her body from head to toe. A bet, you say?

She found it difficult not to snort. Though her patience was thinning rapidly, she pulled a chair from another table and set it in between Juno and Kingsley. Bracing herself with one arm on the table, she tried her best to hold her tongue. May I? she asked as she grabbed a velvet bag from the pocket of her cloak and tossed it on the table. One hundred copper tokens and a ruby ring to accompany that wonderful smile of yours.

Kingsley, sitting beside her, covered his mouth as he hid his laughter. Oh, come on. Let the girl play. It won’t hurt.

They did. A new deck of cards was dealt for a game of Queens and Kings. Surprisingly, a hand containing all queens and the king of spades was the winner. It was a difficult game, and Emersyn lost five times.

Tevrin kept his beady eyes on her, occasionally sneaking a grin her way. He gloated over how easily she walked into this one, being so idiotic as to rush into a parlor game designed for men. She grumbled, throwing her useless cards and folding. For the sixth time.

You should give up, girl. he taunted.

Shut up. she muttered under her breath as she looked at her new hand of cards. The rest of the men amused each other by glamourizing their lifestyles. They actually lived like a horde of pigs, not their exact words, but anything they said was well beyond belief.

Tevrin didn’t get the message. "So, girl, what do you think of this Robyn Hoode? He drawled out the name. You think he’s a ghost or just a cocky coward?"

She tightened her grip on the cards, and forced a smile. No, I don’t know actually, but tell me… what do you think? Oh, she knew very well what he thought, but decided to give him one last chance. Bodi might have reprimanded her for doing so, especially with a guard. But she felt rather generous tonight.

Ah… he’s just some boy who needs a good whipping is all.

Perfect. Emersyn kept quiet as she shuffled the cards. She grabbed two more, and threw in three more silver pieces. One by one, the men folded their cards, but not Emersyn. During the next few games, she managed to earn back all the money she lost. After another two games, she began to profit and the coins were piled high in the middle of the table. In the last three games, that passed like the wave of her hand, she took almost every last coin owned by these men.

She stretched her arms out and snapped out a sack from the folds of her cloak. I think it would be smart right now for me to call it a night. All the men stared at the table, then at her, and lastly, at their empty pockets. No one was spared. Picking up her winnings, she slid them into her bag.

A dagger suddenly struck the table, and she raised her gaze with a cocked brow.

You cheated! The one wielding the weapon wasn’t Tevrin, surprisingly, but another guard. One for whom she did not care enough to remember his name. Play me again, and let’s see if you can actually beat me.

Emersyn frowned, staring at the coins and then back at him. She studied his face: dark eyes, unshaven chin, and a long scar on his exposed arm. She kept her face straight and sighed loudly before she resumed her task of picking up the coins. Not tonight.

He growled, ready to strike her. She nearly grasped her hidden dagger, but a hand jutted out and grabbed the guard’s scarred arm.

She won fair and square. Leave it be. He was the younger fellow. His hazel eyes flared at the brute of a man. She was preoccupied collecting the coins from the guards, she nearly forgot the very existence of the speckle-eyed boy.

Her assailant huffed once, but sat back down. Sure, he’d rather fight a girl than a man, and now who was the coward? She secured her sack and scooted out of the chair, without a thank you for his help to the unknown boy or a farewell to the rest of the men sitting around the table.

Emersyn accidentally knocked into a bald man by the exit, and he muttered a curse at her. She ignored him, and put on her hood. The thief stepped out of the reeking tavern, and found the outside not much better. Mud was caked over the already dried dirt on her boots. The moon was high, and the village seemed more than lively.

The butcher was out chopping fresh meat for tomorrow’s morning crowd. Not too far away, the seamstresses gathered together in the summer night, gossiping over men, as always. Open windows released the diverse aromas of cooked food, hot and ready to be sold.

Lanterns illuminated the community as best they could, but Severna was a lowly village. The residents were poor and owned not much more than the clothes on their backs although they generally stayed in good spirits. Buying food was nearly impossible, and most people farmed individually. Emersyn knew well of the consequences for such a task, and the unfair taxes that were heavier than the king’s sword.

Emersyn knocked on a small cottage door, and a slow two minutes passed. Finally, a frail, hunched-over, old woman answered. Her grey hair cascaded down her shoulders. She tried to fix the strands as she noticed her visitor. Dear, you shouldn’t be out this late.

It’s okay, Baba. I brought you a present. On her way there, Emersyn transferred a pound of gold coins into a smaller pouch. She reached for the feeble woman’s hand and carefully placed her gift inside it. When the tax collector comes, you can pay your fair share.

I—You’ve done enough for me already! Tell me, where did this money come from? Baba’s crystal eyes were wide, and she held out the pouch as if she intended to give it back to Emersyn.

Emersyn waved away her question. Don’t worry about it. I won it in a card game. She stepped down onto the patio.

Do you ever think of growing out your hair?

Always ready to talk about trivial things, Emersyn fingered her chestnut locks that brushed over her shoulders. Nah, I like it short. Keep well, Baba. She left before the old woman could stop her. Baba recently lost her son when he fell off a horse. She had no means of support any longer, which in the end, would doom her to fall at the sharp end of a guard’s sword.

Emersyn barely made it down the grueling road before she heard her name being squealed behind her. Three young children ran up to her, their dirty faces the only evidence that they hadn’t gone to the river yet to fetch fresh water for their nightly baths.

The two girls and a smaller boy stopped abruptly, almost knocking her a step back. Emersyn! You’ve been gone far too long. The girl with the longer blond hair spoke out, bouncing onto her feet. The youngest child hid behind her skirt, not ready to speak to anyone yet.

Emersyn balanced on the back of her legs, placing a finger to her lips as she pulled out a few coins. What is the saying?

Use little, keep providing, and don’t boast, the two girls chimed out with pride. A tiny sound even came from the boy.

Excellent. Approval shone in her eyes as Emersyn handed the small children some coins from her winnings. They weren’t orphans, but their families could use all the money they could get. Once she supplied them with enough that the soldiers wouldn’t give them a second glance, she spun them around and pushed them ahead. Now get your bums going. I bet you have an early morning.

They didn’t forget to exclaim their thanks as they raced down the street.

All those winnings, and you give your money away?

Emersyn turned around and eyed the young man. He was the same one from the tavern. She couldn’t forget those speckled hints of gold in his eyes. She raised her hand. I do as I please with my earnings. A pause. Have you been following me?

If it were anyone else, she would have sneered. But realizing he managed to follow her steps without her noticing him in the least, made her admire his unique skill. Few people could successfully follow Emersyn without being noticed.

The lamplight reflected off his auburn hair. He casually shrugged. I was interested after the stunt you pulled at the card game… You pretended to lose. Why?

She passed him and nudged his shoulder on her way. An observant fellow. What more would he try to figure out about her? Those men were pigs. They all had it coming.

But they are guards. He fell into step with her, much to her displeasure. You dare to call guards pigs?

Emersyn stopped hard in the mud, and the young man almost ran into her. She eyed him like she considered him the village fool. Actually, he might as well have been for making such an outrageous comment. You aren’t from here, are you? His clothes were too tailored, and he didn’t have a speck of dirt to tarnish his outfit. He wore peasant clothes, although the physique of his body suggested he knew how to wield a sword. He didn’t look like he ever worked a single day in his life.

He hesitated. You could say that.

What? Are you a beggar… no. A runner? Or do you sell your wares from village to village? Emersyn snorted at her humor. I daresay, might you be the seller of mind-clouding toxins?

He blinked at her, seemingly shocked she would even ask such a question. He had probably never been so bluntly accused of having such a lowly job and being imbued with the obnoxious scent of the drug-inducing plants.

N—no, are you mad? The king forbids such vile crimes in his kingdom, he sputtered. The penalty for—

I know the penalty. She looked off to the side and her lips thinned.

He shifted his weight and squared his shoulders. May I ask your name?

That regained her attention, and her eyes widened, but soon narrowed. A bemused grin appeared on her lips. I only reveal my name to those whom I consider worthy. She thought better of her words. To my friends, mostly just my friends.

A faint smile. Your name is Friends? That is so, odd.

Her lips parted. This stranger earned something few could gain, her smile, and Emersyn released a short laugh. Emersyn, you fool. My name is Emersyn.

Gauge. He held out his hand, and she stared at it for a good long while. Then, holding back a chuckle, she patted his shoulder, leaving him behind with the rest of the chaos in the village.

She waved to him behind her and laughed, which was rather strange. She felt a kind of happiness caused by a boy named Gauge. Turning back to him, she said, It was nice to meet you. Stay well and keep your eyes peeled. You never know who might reach into your pockets when you aren’t looking, Gauge.

CHAPTER TWO

The fog, hanging low on the ground this chilling morning, covered her leather boots. The sun had not yet risen and the glow of the campfire in the middle of the forest was the main event. A group, made up of all different ages, surrounded the fire’s warmth and they conversed in low whispers. None complained about the earliness of the hour.

Emersyn was the last one to make her appearance. Last night, sleep didn’t come easy for her. Sleep rarely did, but this time was particularly rough.

She flung her bow to the side and slumped to the ground. A bread roll was tossed her way and she bit into it. Stale, but delicious.

I heard rumors of a card game gone amiss, said Bodi Weston, her second-in-command, as he leaned closer to the fire. The flames made his onyx eyes glow. He was a rather large boy of twenty, and relied on his brute strength to take out his opponents. Once, she feared, he used some sort of hormone to help widen his shoulders, strengthen his arms, and allow him to endure an excessive amount of strikes to his face and gut. But she soon realized that was just how he was built.

Orphaned like her, Emersyn appreciated Bodi’s company after her brother and father passed. His parents were cursed with the deadly disease that ended the lives of so many people of their village, including her mother. The cure was readily available, but since his parents’ taxes were not paid, they could not afford it. They endured a slow and painful death because of the king’s relentless greed.

Emersyn spoke with a mouth full of bread, Ah, so you’ve heard.

Incredibly stupid. Leta Grant, her third-in-command, replied. She flipped her red wine-colored hair over her shoulder and tied it back. She had no family left either, but she never told Emersyn what became of them. Nevertheless, her hatred for the royals manifested in her heart. A wicked grin formed on her freckled face. I must say, well done, Captain.

She frowned, always uncomfortable with the name they chose for her. It was as much of a title as the king, although she didn’t strike fear into her own people. She didn’t want such a position. They had it coming, she pointed out simply. Speaking with such brash tongues. They are lucky I didn’t cut them off.

Bodi sighed and ran a hand through his blond tresses. Yes, mighty lucky for all of us. Who will lead us if you get hanged once they find out who you really are?

That had always been a problem amongst them. They won’t. She glared at the remaining food in her hand and the group continued their discussion. Everybody lost something or someone in this dreaded kingdom, which turned a blind eye to them. All had tragic stories, and lives that were far from free.

If the people who wanted her head discovered she was actually not the man they sought… The menacing enigma whom the people called Robyn Hoode, she had no fear for what might happen to her, but rather, the people of the village. They were the closest to her and in the same predicament as she.

Bodi loved fighting as much as he loved his companions, and they all assumed he would take her place if anything happened to Emersyn. She wasn’t fully responsible for inspiring all these people—but the people wanted her to lead them from the start.

Her band of thieves were well acquainted with the Hales’ ancestry and their rich blood for the fight. They hoped she would grow out of her timid ways, and earn the heart of iron that her father talked so much about to her.

The founders, as Emersyn’s group called them, were spotted sipping water out of their leather pouches. Charles Lennon and Fenton Norris. Both of them were cheated out of becoming the protectors of the kingdom. Revenge on the royals still ran hot in their veins.

At first, after Emersyn learned they used to work for the king, she refused to acknowledge them. However, once they pleaded their case, she became intrigued. They wanted to repay the king in kind, and they needed help. To accomplish this, they proposed that Emersyn begin robbing the king’s tradespeople. At that point, she was almost convinced, but once they suggested returning the money to those who actually earned and needed it, they hooked her for good. She didn’t know their thievery could expand to such lengths.

When she met Bodi and Leta, their bond grew stronger every day. They were three orphans, three children of the kingdom, who would not back down from anyone, not even the royal pigs.

A woman named Beth Timber, who lost her husband to the king’s penchant for war and a young child to disease, cackled louder than the fire. Have you lot heard the rumors? The king almost choked on his own smoked fish. A bone was missed. Though she was only in her late twenties, her hair was the purest white. People who spotted her in the forest whispered her name and called her Silver Death. She was Emersyn’s loyal fifth-in-command, and her never failing spy.

Serves the man right, Fenton announced before wiping his chin. The fat man eats by the truckloads. I pray to the gods, if they can’t kill him, then please, at least, puncture his windpipe. Then I won’t have to suffer his unbearable laugh.

He will probably wheeze like a sick dog, Charles chimed in.

The group broke into a joyous laughter. Although they might not have had much money, or even the basic foods to keep them alive, they still retained their good spirits.

A thud was heard at the east side of the forest, followed by another. Two hooded figures, cloaked in grey, came into view. One of them removed her hood, exposing a flounce of onyx waves. Two bright, jade-colored eyes highlighted her ebony hair. Up the main hill, ten men with a carriage of bread loaves. Along with jams and jellies.

The one with the brighter eyes waltzed up to Bodi, and stared at what he held in his hand and scoffed. Are you sure you want to eat that? How many helpings, Weston?

Bodi coughed as the bread went down the wrong pipe, and growled at Maeyan. Stop commenting about what I eat. He chugged some water from the animal hide pouch. I am a growing boy.

You are definitely growing. There are no doubts about that, Maeyan retorted.

The other woman remained silent. She was identical to her outspoken sister. Abijale was her name. She looked as beautiful as the sister who spoke. The quiet sister was reported to have had her tongue removed after refusing to let a soldier deal with her on his terms. Although her strong voice could not be heard any longer, she stood there brimming with pride. Her revenge was just as sweet.

Right, then. Emersyn donned her crimson hood and picked up her bow. Ignoring the usual banter between her comrades, she added, Let’s grab some breakfast.

She secured her arm guard and leaned up against the tree. The shadows covered her as she balanced upon a thick branch. She was high enough to look down over the road. The birds above her did not quiet down. Emersyn gazed up over the rim of her hood and spotted a nest of blue jays. The mother was absent, and the babies cried out for her to feed their empty stomachs.

Another feeble chirp echoed through the dense forest. Emersyn released a sharp whistle in return as she notched her arrow on the bow. Hoof beats approached soon afterwards, along with several footsteps.

Emersyn peered down, bending on one knee. She always shot the first arrow. She initiated the signal for the others to do the same. If she didn’t signal, they knew not to pursue. She slightly hesitated at the sight of these men, but something made her slowly raise and draw the bow.

She didn’t know there was a name for it, but as she aimed at the leader, it became clear as day. Disgust.

The arrow landed in his leg, and he fell instantly as the rest of the guards yelled and called out their positions. They were too slow. Emersyn had already released three more arrows on the two guards who aimed their guns at Leta, whom they saw hiding near the brush.

The rest came easy. Bodi jumped down from the trees with a loud hoot, and landed on top of a man before he could unsheathe his sword. He served quite well as Bodi’s personal landing cushion. Bodi brought out his sword with the twisted pommel, and launched two men off their feet.

Silently, with cat-like stealth and grace, Beth advanced toward the already injured guards and tied them up with ease, carefully covering their eyes with strips of linen.

After they were bound and blinded, Emersyn jumped down from her perch and ambled over to where they stood in line.

They weren’t worth much. Leta broke one of the older guard’s nose. Blood dripped down into his mouth. He spat close to Leta’s feet, and her lip curled up with a displeased groan. Gross! Do you know the value of these boots?

The older guard sneered. Probably not very much, seeing as they come from a thieving whore like you.

Emersyn only stared at him.

Ahhh, Leta said, placing her lips against his ear. Don’t be too mad that your nose was irrevocably disfigured. Watch your tongue. I hear whores love to eat men with sharp ones like yours.

The guards were clad in blue-detailed garb. They are low ranking, Emersyn said as she pulled out an arrow from her quiver. The worry that anyone else could be hiding and watching her set her on edge. She eyed all ten men, without wasting any sympathy on them, despite how pathetic some of them looked to her. Bread and jam are not the kinds of things that need to be guarded by the higher-ups.

The man in whose leg she lodged an arrow lifted his head. Maybe we wouldn’t need so many guards if you bandits were not flaunting about in the woods.

Quiet, Kent. the man with peppered hair reprimanded him before clearing his throat. Which one of you is called Robyn Hoode?

Bodi stepped forward, unsheathing his sword. Who wants to know?

Emersyn’s loyal group of men and women were smart and tight-lipped enough to know better than to say each other’s real names during raids like this. Emersyn walked over to the carriage where the twins busily packed away the supplies in sacks. They tossed them to Fenton and he nodded to her.

It’s not much, Fenton said, but enough to sustain a few families for a week or two.

Good. Emersyn looked at Charles who