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Silver flashed behind him. The man saw the glint of a reflection from the moon and spun around, just in time for Will Scarlet to slice into his chest with both swords.
Blood sprayed.
The second guard’s mouth fell open, and Alan rushed him, wrapping an arm around his neck and clamping his palm down over his lips to stop him from screaming out in alarm.
Will pulled his blades out of the commander’s corpse, not even waiting for him to drop to the ground before lunging and stabbing the second guard in the stomach once, thrice, five times in rapid succession.
The second guard keeled over, blood trickling out of his mouth past Alan’s enclosed fingers, while his guts spilled out of him.
“Dammit,” I hissed, throwing my arms up. “What was the point of us disguising ourselves in their gear if you were just going to do that?”
Will shrugged, flinging the blood off his blades before sheathing them. “Don’t know. That was your plan. This was mine.”
“It was supposed to be our plan, if we worked to—”
Will pointed past my shoulder, up the hill. “Might still need the disguises if we’re going to get into the cottage, depending how well-guarded it is.”
Footfalls fell on the other side of the hedges. Our hands went to our weapons. We pounced out of the bushes—
As Friar Tuck came jogging past with his fists up, reflecting moonlight from the metal knuckle-bands he called Atonement and Discipline.
We froze, nearly stabbing our dear friend, and then let out a unified breath as our weapons lowered.
“Where’s Sir Gregory?” Tuck asked.
“You tell us,” Will said. “You’re his prisoner.”
Tuck smiled and winked. “Let’s let him keep thinking that a wee bit longer, aye?”
“Shit,” Alan said, nudging his chin toward the top of the hill. A soldier was running up the last of the winding path to the cottage, his cloak blowing in the breeze.
“Have we been made?” Tuck asked.
“Wouldn’t be surprised,” Will said. “You men need to work on your stealth.”
Alan bobbed his bow off his shoulder, bringing up an arrow with it. He nocked the arrow, squinting in the distance.
“You sure you’re a good enough shot for that, dandelion?” Will asked.
Tuck said, “Hold. Are we sure we want to let ourselves be known?”
The men all looked at me.
I flared my nostrils. No more hesitation.
“Aye,” I said. “Do your worst, Alan. Let’s give the fuckers a scare.”
Teeth glinted in the moonlight from our collection of wicked grins.
The door to the cottage burst open. From the darkness and distance, I couldn’t make out the man in the doorway who spoke to the runner, yet if I had to guess . . .
“Sir Guy,” I hissed. “Bastard got here before we did.”
“How would he know to come here?” Tuck asked.
“Must have followed . . .” I didn’t finish the sentence. He couldn’t have followed us, because we were behind him. Which meant he must have followed Robin.
She really was here.
