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I hoped John wasn’t making a drastic mistake. For all her faults, Marian’s accusations rang true.
“What now?” Will asked once she was gone.
Sir Gregory spoke up. “Let’s talk about finding my niece. We can strike a deal. I have loyal men who will follow me. You lot have your own merry gang of bandits and thieves.”
“Your men are soldiers to the Crown,” Will said. “Why would you help us?”
Gregory’s eyes sank. “Because I’m like you now. An outlaw. I have the blood of lawmen on my hands . . . and the men from my warring days aren’t as honorable as I am. They’ll help me because I’ll pay them to.”
Will gave him an impressed frown. “Fair enough, old man.” He turned to John. “What say you, boss? Let the old codger swing his big sword one more time to find his beloved niece?”
John nodded. “We’ll need the help.”
“Can you take your dagger out of my gut now, mate?” Tuck asked.
“No,” Gregory said. “Because when we find her, she’s coming with me.”
“Not if she doesn’t want to, she isn’t,” John shot back.
“Fine. She can make the choice—but I will convince her. She knows her duty. Her family misses her. Do we have a deal?”
John glanced at the rest of us. I shrugged at Tuck across the pond. What alternative did we have?
Gregory nodded. “I’ll give you the soldiers to take on Guy of Gisborne in exchange for Robin’s safety. To bring her back home where she belongs.”
Chapter 43
Robin
Iwish I had never left the Merry Men.
However, my decision had been made, and I needed to live with it. I didn’t have time to weep and moan about my choices. I needed to keep pushing forward.
I didn’t know where to go. After managing to escape the witch’s cabin undetected—thanks to Stump’s dying warning—I stalked through the woods, untied Mercy, and headed south.
I wandered Sherwood Forest aimlessly, racking my brain. Trying to stuff down my trepidation so I could make another tough decision. I can’t be hesitant. I just need to pick a direction and go.
The Merry Men had taught me about sticking to my convictions. They taught me about trust, allowing me to leave for Nottingham with Friar Tuck even though I knew it pained them to watch me go.
It pained me, too.
I found a small pond in a shallow valley not far from the witch’s cabin, and took a rest to drink and let Mercy graze. Whatever route I took, we’d need our strength. I was hungry, so I foraged and found some berries. It was a shame I didn’t have my bow to hunt.
While waiting for Mercy to recover, I inspected my wound. It was yellowed and gross, yet no longer aching. Wulfric’s ointment had worked fast.
I thought about my options, knowing the next few hours were crucial and might decide my fate.
First and foremost, I needed to stay away from Sir Guy of Gisborne and his trackers. Which meant I needed to leave the pond. If I was going to live through the night, they needed to stay firmly behind me.
Sitting cross-legged at the water’s edge, I studied the map, trying to commit it to memory.
I could go to the next circled spot on the map, close to the eastern edge of Sherwood Forest. It crept into Lincolnshire. Perhaps the Merry Men had gone there.
I’d been too late to warn them of Guy’s trap at the witch’s cabin. What will be any different about the next spot on the list? Guy could just as easily set up an ambush there, too, hoping to close around me like a pincer.
I wondered if my unseen adversary knew of my relationship with the Merry Men. If he knew I wanted to seek them out, and would use that against me.
I desperately needed to know more about him—his motivation, drive, and mission. I knew Little John was a driving factor behind Guy’s motives. According to John, he had killed the Sheriff of Nottingham’s brother years ago, which put him in the Sheriff’s sights. That gave way to an endless search by the Sheriff’s huntsman, Guy.
