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My head spun to the side door. Uncle Gregory stood there, greatsword drawn. He had swung at my fleeing father, appearing from the shadows like a ghost.
“I’ve been waiting a long time for this, brother,” Gregory said, spittle flying onto his gray beard.
Father drew the sword, cursing, and faced off with his brother-in-law under the awning of the side door.
Uncle Gregory laughed at him. “You think you can defeat me, Thomas? You rusty lout. Let’s go then.”
Father charged with a scream, closing the gap fast.
Their swords clanged.
“Where are my fucking sister and niece?!” Gregory shouted, pushing Father back with a wild swing of his huge sword.
“Uncle Gregory!” I cried.
My voice caught the attention of my uncle for a split second, and that was my mistake.
I saw his graying eyes shoot past Thomas, widening and then narrowing on me—
And Thomas charged him again.
Gregory managed to parry at the last minute, swinging out wide, but Thomas’ sword still caught him in the side.
Gregory growled in Thomas’ face. Their bodies spun together, Gregory now with his back to me, and Father with his back to the fields that stretched out toward the woodlands beyond.
They pushed off, my uncle staggering back a step.
Thomas drew his sword out, backpedaled, and then threw his sword at my uncle.
Gregory easily batted it out of the sky, but had to duck and defend himself.
And then Father was running into the fields.
The entire exchange took a matter of seconds.
Boots thudding on wood stole my attention. I inhaled sharply as Sir Guy ran at me out the corner of my eye. He was to me in an instant. I yelled as his free arm wrapped around me and he brought his sword close.
The Merry Men burst into the room, covered in blood, weapons drawn—
Just as Guy swung me in front of him and pressed the thin edge of his sword against my neck, the iron-like grip of his arm keeping me immobile. He put me between the Merry Men to his left at the front door, and Uncle Gregory to his right at the side door, using me like a shield.
“Back!” Guy roared, the cool temperament of his voice filling with fire. “Or your prize dies.”
Little John was the first to stride forward, raising his quarterstaff with both hands. “She’s as much your prize as she is ours, Guy.”
Guy snarled, “Not another step forward,” and pressed the blade tighter against my neck. “I know how swiftly you move for a big man, Jonathan.”
There were less than ten steps separating me from my giant savior. I whimpered and adjusted my feet, eyes bulging, darting to Little John. He saw the fear written on my face. A mixture of anger and grief spilled over his bearded features.
He dropped his staff with a wooden thunk and raised his hands in surrender. “She doesn’t have to be your prize, though, does she? Your quarrel is not with the girl. It’s with me and the Merry Men.”
“My quarrel is with all of you fucking vermin! You leeches of society!”
Guy’s voice pierced my ears, and I winced, clenching my eyes shut. He had his back to the wall and window, so none of the men could get to him from the sides. He was smart, but I could tell he was also nervous, perhaps for the first time in his life.
“Let the girl go, Sir Guy, and we let you walk,” John said.
Will scoffed. “Like hell we—”
