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Gregory frowned. “I can’t be positive it was Sir Guy’s men. I simply saw danger for my niece and raised my sword, as I was trained to do.”
Marian idly pointed at Gregory. “It’s easily explainable, yet a bit morbid. With you dead, Gregory, the line of ascension to the Wilford estate shrinks even further. Upon her mother and father’s deaths—”
“I already abdicated the estate years ago, and Robin knows that!”
She gave an easy shrug. “Then it’s what you said: She didn’t know the men were Guy’s. We don’t even know that. She was simply living on the whimsies of a young, impressionable girl. If there’s ever been a more perfect example of her impressionability, it’s from you lot, you hungry devils—”
“Enough,” John announced. His voice was low, clipped.
Marian smirked at him. “I’m only teasing, Giant John. Trying to make levity in a dire circumstance. Can you blame the girl? I’d say she’s cunning. My respect for her has grown in spite of all this. If she got her cunning from you men, then she has you to thank for it.”
“No,” John said, rolling over her spiel. “Enough from you, Marian.” He faced the lass and glared at her. “You’ve had it out for Robin since day one. Your jealousy is blinding. She wouldn’t do this. Leave us? Perhaps. But—”
“Harm the people who tried to kill her family? Not as farfetched when you put it in plain terms.”
John paused. Then he pointed in a random direction—east. “Get out.”
Marian looked struck. Her head snapped back on her neck. “W-What?”
“You’re no longer welcome here, Maid Marian. I’ve heard enough out of you.”
Her jaw dropped. “Little John, you can’t be serious.”
“That’s the second time you’ve asked that in as many minutes, whore.” John’s voice was deadly serious.
My eyes widened a fraction. I glanced over at Will, and he simply shrugged. Tears were close to falling in Marian’s eyes. She might have been right, but her mistake was not knowing her place in the hierarchy here. Speaking when no one asked. Marian had always been a woman who wanted her opinion to be known.
True or not, badmouthing our little songbird had been a step too far—too much for John to handle.
She spun on the rest of us. “Alan? Will?” She gasped at the friar. “Tuck? Will no one stand up for me the way you blindly stand up for this young highborn waif?”
Tuck sighed, bowing his head. “It’s harsh, John, but . . .” He faced Marian, clenching his jaw. “You heard the man, Marian. I’m sorry.”
“No!”
“He’s our leader.”
“He’s not an emperor! Is his say the only one that matters around here?” She backed up, stumbling away from the pond, looking at us like we were horrible visions in a bad nightmare.
Once she was a fair distance away—out of sword-reach—she steeled herself and scowled, baring her teeth. “The girl has rotted your minds, robbed you of your wits, and unmanned you.”
John’s winced with sadness. “You’re right about one thing, Marian: She’s robbed us . . . of our hearts.”
She scoffed, as if it was the most ridiculous admission of all. A woman like Maid Marian did not believe in love. Even I knew that.
“Where will I go?” she asked. “Alone in the wilderness.”
“Anywhere but here, Maid Marian. The town of Skellingthorpe is less than three miles east of here.”
Her lips scowled. “You’ll regret this,” she said through gritted teeth.
“I doubt it.” John showed his back to her.
Slowly, she sauntered away, head hung low.
I watched her go. Pitying her. She had wanted excitement, adventure, and coin from the Merry Men. It’s all anyone wanted with us—even our own members.
Except Robin. She was different. She didn’t care about our money, or what kind of adventure we could lead her on. I liked to believe she cared only about us, even if it was a fantasy. It’s why John chose her over Marian. And the simple fact he didn’t like Marian much.
