LAUREL
“We should get back to help,” I told Baron. The low voices of Father and the Merry Men still carried over to the small clearing where Baron and I had escaped to have a few moments alone.
He nodded agreement, and hand in hand, Baron and I walked back to the others. I tightened my fingers around Baron’s as we surveyed the carnage laid out in front of us. The clearing stank of smoke, sweat, and blood, the aftermath of a battle that had nearly ended all of us. The Sheriff of Nottingham, Baron’s father, lay sprawled in the dirt with my arrow still jutting from his chest. I squeezed Baron’s hand. However monstrous the sheriff had been, he still was Baron’s father, and I had killed him. He had no family left now. Baron avoided looking at his father’s body, staring anywhere else.
Across the clearing, my own father Robin Hood had no such reservations. He and Will Scarlet were already rummaging around in the sheriff’s pockets, muttering under their breaths as they searched for anything useful. Little John was groaning as he woke up, his massive hand reaching to gently touch the gash across his chest. He and Dale had both been injured duringthe fight and Dale still lay unconscious, pale and unmoving. The rest of the Merry Men had begun stripping the fallen soldiers of their weapons and dragging the bodies into a single heap. Lincoln beckoned Alan to one of the prone men; after listening at his chest, they left him out of the pile. He must still be alive. I recognized that face as one of the men who had been in the sheriff’s company where I was chained to Baron all winter long.
Father tugged a scroll free from the sheriff’s boot and held it out for Will Scarlet to read. Will was in his forties, but still had a youthful, boyish face that matched his energy level, just like Father. They both frowned as their eyes scanned the page. When Will glanced up and caught my gaze, he gave a sharp jerk of his chin to motion me over.
I slipped free of Baron’s hand and stepped over the bodies that hadn’t yet been moved. Father shoved the scroll at me before I reached him, his brow knitted tight with worry. I didn’t need to read to immediately know something was very wrong.
I unrolled the paper and read anyway.
My stomach plummeted. It was a message from Prince John himself, announcing that King Richard had been captured, then summoned the sheriff and his soldiers to Nottingham Castle, and went on to outline his treasonous plans. When I reached the end, Father and I met eyes. No words were needed. Ever since the day Mother died when I was young, it was almost like Father and I could read each other’s minds.
James crowded in to read over my shoulder then let out a quiet intake of breath. Father gathered all the Merry men and had them pull away from the unconscious soldiers and lifeless bodies. Baron followed, relief flickering across his face as he put distance between himself and his father’s wide-eyed, vacant stare. The scroll made its way around the circle as everyone read in turn and the silence thickened.
Father waited until everyone had read, then spoke in hushed tones, as if afraid to wake the few unconscious men in the clearing behind us. “As you all now know, King Richard has been captured during the Crusades. We must rescue him.”
A ripple of grim nods moved throughout the group. King Richard—the Lion Heart, who we respected and were devoted to—had been betrayed and taken prisoner by Duke Leopold of Austria. Just the thought of my king being kept in some dank prison cell in Vienna made my blood boil. I wanted to run there and personally fight Duke Leopold.
“Let’s go,” Will Scarlet urged. “We can leave now.”
“We can’t all run off to his rescue,” James said calmly. “Prince John’s gathering his forces. He means to claim the throne. We’re needed here as well.”
Silence slammed into us. With King Richard’s army still in the Holy Lands, the path to power lay wide open. There was no one to stop Prince John from seizing the throne.
No one…except us.
“It’s hopeless,” Alan muttered dejectedly.
“It’snothopeless,” I said, stepping forward. “We know his plan. That gives us a chance.” My gaze slid to Baron. Something hardened in his expression that I couldn’t understand, so I let my gaze drift past him.
“Ten of us against an entire army?” Alan shot back. “What are we supposed to do, Laurel? Be reasonable.”
I snatched the scroll from Will Stutely and paced through the group. “It depends on who those ten are and where they stand. No one at the Sheriff’s camp knows what happened today. They only know he set out to retrieve Baron and his runaway prisoner.”
It had been a month since I had convinced Baron to run away with me, on the eve of my scheduled execution. That had been my fourth escape from the Sheriff’s camp, and the onlysuccessful one. During each of the other three times, Baron had tracked me down and brought me back.
I circled back to Baron and stopped in front of him, placing a hand lightly against his chest. “Imagine their shock when word reaches them that Robin Hood’s daughter killed the Sheriff of Nottingham. Naturally, the sheriff’s son would want to avenge him. And naturally, the men would need a new commander…someone already familiar with them. Someone respected. Someone already embedded within their ranks as a senior officer. They don’t need to know that his allegiances changed since he set out to bring back said hostage.”
Understanding slowly dawned across the circle and mischievous grins lit up the faces of all the Merry Men.
“Me?” Baron asked, stunned.
“No, she meantme,” Father said dryly. “They’d love Robin Hood giving orders, I’m sure.” He snorted. “Of course she means you, lad! This is perfect. We’ll have a man on the inside.”
He shot me a sideways grin. “I doubt any of the sheriff’s men will be heartbroken to hear that Laurel tragically died in the struggle. Knowing her, she caused a fair amount of trouble while she was being held prisoner.”
Will Scarlet leaned over to Little John, who had propped himself up to sit cross-legged on the forest floor, and whispered something into his ear. Little John choked back a laugh then winced and put a hand up to his chest. His tunic was torn and bright red from where the Sheriff had slashed at him during the battle. Lincoln cuffed Will across the backside of his head. “Don’t make him laugh! You want him to die like the Sheriff there?” Then he bit his lip. “Oh, er…sorry, Baron.”
It didn’t look like Lincoln’s comment had even registered with Baron.
“No one will believe that story,” Baron answered flatly. “Too many people died and no one would be able to authenticate my story.”
“Ah, but you’llhave witnesses!” I countered, gesturing toward two bodies sprawled near the clearing’s edge, away from their deceased companions. Their chests rose and fell, faint but steady. Both Will Scarlet and Will Stutely moved in to examine them more closely.
“But they didn’t see anything,” Baron protested. “They were knocked out before I even got to the fight.”
