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Little John scoffed. “Sir George wouldn’t want to embarrass himself. Not against some of the best archers in the land. Did you snag a ledger, get any names?”
The boy shook his head. “Apologies, boss.”
“It’s okay. You did well, son.”
The scout sat.
Another one stood, across from me at the fire. “I heard a rumor in a tavern that Prince John might make an appearance.”
The men groaned.
Little John sighed. “That would be disastrous.”
“Why?” I asked. “Is the prince that popular?”
“It’s not that Lackland is popular or well-loved, little star. On the contrary. His presence means the presence of more guardsmen, which will be stifling.” John tilted his head at the standing scout. “Who told you that?”
“A drunkard.”
“Then let’s hope his drunk ramblings were just that: nonsense. Otherwise, we’re calling this off.”
“What?!” I blurted. “No! We can’t!”
“Of course we can. Remember what we said about putting you in harm’s way? I won’t allow it.”
I threw my arms out wide. “You can’t unilaterally make this decision, Little John! We’ve come all the way here! This tournament is important.”
“Not important enough for you to die over.”
Silence fell over the group. The flames snapped.
Friar Tuck sighed heavily. “. . . Our fiery damsel is right, brother. We need money. And food. We should hold this to a vote.”
A struck look fell over John’s face as he whipped his head over to Tuck. The friar glanced away, shamefaced.
Little John scowled. “Fine. All in favor of letting Robin participate in the tournament, regardless of whether Prince John attends, raise your hand.”
Of the sixteen Merry Men present, ten raised their hands. The men who didn’t? Will, Alan-a-Dale, Little John, and three others I didn’t know well.
When Friar Tuck raised his hand, John flared his nostrils. “Why you?”
“Because it’s what Robin wants,” Tuck said. “And because I trust her. We all should.”
I gave him a shy smile.
“Quite a change of heart from being the last holdout, chaplain,” John grumbled. “It’s not that we don’t trust her. Of course we do. It’s that I’m worried we won’t be able to protect her, should anything—”
“Enough,” Will Scarlet cut in. Perhaps the only person here with big enough balls to interrupt our leader. Other than me, of course. “The vote passed. Robin is participating, John, whether you like it or not. Don’t scowl at me like that—I voted against it, too. But I know when the battle is lost.”
“So what’s your opinion, lad?”
“My opinion is we need to shift our focus on how best to protect her, in the face of all the potential guards, bounty hunters, and knights that will be there.”
John puffed his cheeks out and sighed heavily. He turned to me, eyebrows arching. “Wear that hood low, Robin. Wear it like it’s part of your damned skin.”
Chapter 53
Robin
