AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Worst of all, I worried I’d lost the Merry Men for good.
Chapter 41
Alan a Dale
We licked our wounds three miles southeast of the witch’s cabin. Our pursuers had pushed us closer to the Lincolnshire border. If the plan was to leave Sherwood Forest until the heat died down, we were doing a fine job, nearing the edge of the tree line that stretched for miles of open grasslands before giving way to sparsely packed wood-meadows and more forest near Lincoln.
The escape from Sir Guy of Gisborne and his relentless men had been hectic. East was the only way we could run, initially, since John and Will reported enemy reinforcements closing in from every other direction. Eventually, we found a route that brought us south, trying to cover our tracks along the way.
We had lost five men, assuming Stump was dead. It was a pity because he was one of our finest fighters.
These days, I couldn’t get too attached to my individual comrades. The Merry Men were getting picked off like flies on the back of a hand. Had Will or John died, my grief would have been much worse.
With Tuck absent in Nottingham, there were only seven of us. Six, if you excluded Maid Marian, which I did because she was an accompaniment to the band, not a member. We hardly had the numbers to carry out a job. Not that any were falling into our laps.
I sat on a log, whiling away, listening to the conversations around me, as I was wont to do. I carved my branch, playing aloof, and peeked out with a frown. I’d managed to escape with my lute, much to the dismay of the others, who thought it more pertinent to bring a weapon.
I told them to talk to me later this evening, when we were wallowing about our lost comrades, crying in our porridge around a campfire with no music to take the pain away.
This was a rough life. Men like Sir Guy hunted us because we were trophies, each of us with a sizeable bounty on our heads. Worst of all, more than Friar Tuck’s absence or Stump’s death, was that my little songbird was missing. My muse. The girl who I thought of while lamenting, who could bring me out of a depressed stupor.
My Robin. Whom I’d known less than a fortnight and had already changed my life. All of our lives. That little highborn brat had punched us in the gut and shown us a different side to living we hadn’t known existed. Or had forgotten existed, becoming jaded, gruff, hard men over the years.
Robin rejuvenated us. Her youthful vigor, the glint for adventure in her eyes. The smirks and haughty stances. The arguing, the fear, and the passion with which she lived life.
John and Will had tasted her already. I was supremely jealous about that. I had my reasons for trying to keep my distance, however fruitless my efforts might have been.
Robin was a good person. We were not. I worried about corrupting the girl, if the damage wasn’t already done. I didn’t want the stink of wickedness surrounding the Merry Men like a thundercloud to rain down on her.
Time would tell. If she returned to us, her corruption would be complete. Anyone who returned to their devious captors after having a chance to escape had clearly made their decision. They also lacked a couple scruples upstairs.
I didn’t want to influence her decision either way, which was why I had stayed out of it when she’d spoken with John, Will, and Tuck. She needed to be given the choice . . . not the illusion of making one by coaxing from the others.
If she came back, all bets were off. She would be ours. I would no longer hesitate around my little songbird, and she would know it.
I would take her as soon as she’d have me.
I hadn’t had this kind of visceral reaction to a lass in many years. Will Scarlet? Sure, I fancied the youthful angry lad, and he hadn’t seemed so disagreeable in the past. That trio of three young recruits talking around the campfire next to the pond? I had fucked at least two of them. I wasn’t sure when we’d picked up the third, but if he was anything like the others then he wouldn’t be able to resist my charms for long.
Except I wasn’t interested anymore. In any of it, any of them. Robin dominated my mind, my passion, my lust.
I finished my carving and sighed contentedly, nodding to myself as I stared down at it in my lap. Then I heard what the three boys were talking about around the fire.
“Wasn’t worth the hassle, you ask me,” the one on the far left said. I’d forgotten his name, but I recalled how his lips had felt around my cock a few months back, and that was more important, in my opinion.
“If we’d’a known robbing the girl’s carts was gonna bring this kind’a squeeze down on us, I’d say we wouldn’t’a done it,” said his friend, the new boy.
“Dunno,” said the fine cocksucker, “Little John’s been wrapped up in her since the beginning.”
The third one snickered. “I’d say she’s been more wrapped up on him, you get my meaning.”
I rolled my eyes. Fucking younglings.
They weren’t wrong, though. I had to wonder if taking Robin was worth more than her price.
Then I shook my head, scoffing. Any price would have been worth it.
I ignored the youths for a while, because whelps like that tended to be insubordinate and rebellious for the sake of it, and there were no two ways about it.
