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“You’ve truly waded in neck-deep, haven’t you?” Alan asked with a frown, his voice serious.
I gave him a small nod, bowing my head again. My fingers threaded together between my knees.
“That helpless look in your eyes, lost in thought—”
“You’ve made your point, Alan. Leave me be.”
“Worrying will get you no—”
“I said leave me be!”
Heads veered over from the camp. Will and the ogreish Stump stood with their arms crossed near the cutting block, exchanging words. Their eyes glanced over at me intermittently. Their exchange looked fiery. The brazen young man only came up to Stump’s barrel chest, yet he would never back down from a fight.
Honestly, Will Scarlet could take any of us in a sword fight. What did he have to be scared of? So what if he was pushing back against a viking of a man.
He wandered over with his chopping axe, reaching our circle of logs and debris in front of the ruins.
Will thrust the axe toward me, and I raised my brow.
“Here,” he said, “get up and get working, John. You can’t be wallowing. The others are noticing.”
“Noticing?”
“Aye.” He sounded vexed. “Do something to keep your mind off it. You think I’m not wrapped up in my head about our little thorn?”
“Really, boys?” a sultry voice said behind us, coming from inside the crumbling walls of the ruins. Maid Marian stood up out of nowhere. Eavesdropping. She shook her head and rested her hands on her hips, striking a pose. “The silly girl has you this scrambled? You men are turning into lost little boys. I’m disappointed in your lack of focus.”
I ignored her, frowning at Will. “We react differently, Scarlet. You react by challenging big men. I react by sitting and thinking.”
“And Alan-a-Dale sculpts pretty little gifts for his pretty little girl,” Marian said, wrinkling her nose.
I blinked at her. “No one asked for your help, Marian. Will you fuck off?”
She let out a haughty scoff. “Little John!”
I flapped my hand at her, imitating the same shooing motion she loved to do. “Please. Sit back in the shadows, or wherever you came from.”
Affronted, she shook her head and wandered off.
Will said, “Lying around makes you look weak, Little John. Is that what you want? We can’t have our leader in such a helpless state. You still have others to look after.”
“I thought you didn’t consider me your leader, boy.”
He thrust the handle of the axe into my palm. “I’m not your boy,” he snarled. “And you’re the only one who wants the job.” He turned to walk away once I held the axe, the wood comfortable in my grip, like an old lover.
Like Robin. Seconds later, I shook my head. Jesus, these two are right. I’m lost.
With a groan, I stood. Stray leaves trickled down from the sky, brown and red in the soft breeze. I stared up at the trees hanging over the high cliff, wondering if the seasonal fall was a sign. Sticks and sprigs snapped in the distance, past the thick, impenetrable tree line beyond. It was dark and—
I froze. Leaves rustling in the breeze . . . except the breeze hasn’t picked up. My eyes narrowed.
Alan said, “What’s wrong, boss?”
I held my breath, concentrating—
A dark blur crossed the threshold between two trees.
Shadow? Animal?
