“Do any of you truly think,” I said quietly, venom edging my words, “that if I were a traitor, I would be foolish enough to return here? Anyone with half a brain would know better. Why would I have killed Robin Hood’s men and come back if I wasn’t loyal?”
More heads nodded and most of the tension drained away.
“So what do we do now that the sheriff’s gone?” Sneeds asked.
“Now,” I said, straightening, “I’m the sheriff. I was his son and still am a senior officer. I lay claim to the position.”
“I’ll challenge that!” Dominic barked, stepping forward at last. “You deserted us for weeks. Whatever tale you spun, we can’t trust you. I claim the position!”
A roar went up immediately. “Challenge by arms!”
Of course they wanted to see a fight. The long, isolated winter with nothing to do had brought out their bloodthirsty side. I knew I’d have to prove myself to keep the position.
“Challenge accepted,” I said evenly. I shrugged off my pack and drew my sword.
The crowd hastily cleared a circle. Dominic was handed a blade and began an elaborate display, complete with spins, flourishes, warlike yells. The men cheered but I stood perfectly still, sword tip resting against the dirt, watching him with the detached patience I knew so well.
At last, he charged.
I waited until the final heartbeat before moving. I deflected his strike, stepped inside his guard, and drove my left fist straight into his face in a single, solid punch. My knuckles landed squarely between his eyes, and he instantly crumpled to the ground, out cold.
I looked up at the stunned ring of soldiers. “Anyone else?”
For a long moment, no one spoke. Then Sneeds’ voice cracked the silence. “All hail the new Sheriff of Nottingham!”
“Hail!” the men echoed.
I stepped over Dominic’s unconscious body and began selecting officers. This was the most dangerous part—not the duel, but what followed, and I chose carefully. It was imperative that I choose men who would be easy to control and who could then in turn control others. A few disgruntled soldiers, I could handle. I wasn’t concerned about the odd complaints and resentment about my taking over. When I had been appointed as a captain early in my career, I had heard similar gripes. What was more disturbing was the thought of the other officers becoming mutinous and overturning my position. Now that I was committed to Laurel’s plan, I was going to do everything in my power to make it successful.
The four men I chose were all hardened criminals, but they were all loyal to me for one reason or another, or at least as loyal as a mercenary for hire could be. Trevors was a burly man in his fifties with broken front teeth whom I had worked alongside for years. I judged him to be a reliable man who could be counted on to get a job done, but also one of the few in camp who didn’t lustafter power. Humphrey was one of my father’s previous officers and had been one of Richard’s knights before defecting to join Prince John’s army. During a boar hunt years ago, I pulled him out of harm’s way, and he had never forgotten it.
Rufus and Bart were both young, perhaps in their early twenties. They were fit and capable warriors but lacked the necessary leadership abilities to pose a credible threat to me. No one would follow them if they ever got the notion to turn on me. Their enthusiasm and eagerness to please would make them easy to bend to my will.
My stomach soured momentarily as I realized that the ease with which I could manipulate people likely came from my father. Here I was, behaving just as he did.
“Follow me,” I ordered, and lead my officers through the winding, gloomy tunnels.
During the years when Prince John and my father were in good standing with King Richard, our army had no need of camping in caves, and would winter in the Nottingham Castle barracks. But in the last few years, Richard’s soldiers had been more proactive about searching out and arresting those who followed the Sheriff of Nottingham.
But now that Richard’s army was in the Holy Land and Richard had been captured, of course Prince John would seize the opportunity to finally take the throne. Many soldiers poked their heads out of the tents they had pitched inside the caves.
I led them into the winding tunnels of the Crags. The caves smelled of damp stone and smoke, the remnants of a life I’d once accepted without question. My father’s tent was gone, but his belongings remained. I had Bart light a fire, then produced Prince John’s scroll.
“I intercepted this before Robin Hood could,” I said. “King Richard has been captured. Prince John is ready to claim the throne.”
Their grins were feral.
“When do we move?” Trevors demanded.
“Yeah!” Rufus nodded eagerly. “The men are ready now! We can do it!”
“I’ll take two of you with me to meet Prince John and make arrangements. The other two will arrange to bring the soldiers when we send for you. If Richard is ever freed, we’ll be ready for him and his army.”
Now that the lie was complete, failure was no longer an option. I looked around at all of them. “Long live Prince John.”
LAUREL
I’d been worried that I would sleep through the first bell and expected some sort of gentle chiming, the sort that could slip into a dream and be ignored. But the deafening clangs that rang out in the morning jolted me instantly awake. I flew two feet straight up into the air and grabbed for my knives, then remembered they weren’t there.
