AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“More like four and twenty,” I said.
“Come again?”
“You said we are four. We have six times that number.”
Rattling armor and shuffling feet filled the silent night as the mercenaries surrounding the carriages tightened their grips and stepped nervously from foot to foot.
“Bullshit,” Owen spit out. “She’s lying, men. Don’t believe her.”
I gave him a tight smile. Then I raised two fingers to my mouth and whistled loudly.
On cue, two arrows smacked into the sides of the carriages from opposite ends of the road, from the trees.
The rattling and shuffling intensified. The horses snorted. Low murmurs broke out among the guards. White eyes grew larger in pale faces.
Owen flared his nostrils, eyes narrowing on me. “What game are you playing at, lass? This is foolhardy. You know who owns the wares in this coach, yet you still wish to go through with this? What, do you expect we will simply stand aside and let you pilfer Baron Mansfield’s goods?”
I shrugged. “That’s what I was hoping for.” Outwardly, I appeared in control, even arrogant. Inside, my heart hammered against my ribs. Sweat beaded my brow, but luckily he couldn’t see it with my hood on.
“Then you’re a silly bitch,” Benoit cut in, the humor from his voice gone now that I’d scared his men.
“Careful, Plantagenet,” Will Scarlet said, stepping closer to my side. “I’ve been waiting to carve pretty lines on your silly face. Just give me a reason.”
I raised both hands as the tension rose. “We don’t want bloodshed, Sir Owen.” I tried to appease the leader by giving him a title that he likely didn’t deserve. Otherwise he wouldn’t be out here as a sellsword.
Will said, “Speak for yourself, little thorn.”
I let out an angry huff. “Don’t act like Benoit, dammit. I speak for all the Merry Men.”
Owen said, “Maybe you don’t have the control over your gang you think you do. You might not want it, but it’s bloodshed you’ll get with men like this in your company.”
Silence dragged between us. I could tell Benoit was getting antsy. Heat from Will Scarlet’s body streamed off him in waves.
“How much is Baron Mansfield paying you to look after his goods?” I asked. “Goods, I might point out, that are untaxed. Which is why he’s transporting them in the dead of night across county lines.”
Surprise flashed across Sir Owen’s face. He clearly hadn’t expected me to have done my research.
But I knew Baron Mansfield. At least vaguely. Mama had had a textile shop in Mansfield when she was still alive. She’d dealt with the gentry of that town and provided them clothes. Understood its people, politics, inner workings.
I learned things from Mama when she forced me to partake in the family business. Things like, clothing runs at midnight, by unscrupulous fellows, were done to avoid the taxman. Trafficking, essentially, to keep profits high. It’s how the barons and baronesses of Mansfield had been operating for years. It’s how I knew of this job.
“We’re given two meals a day and a place to lay our heads,” Owen said to me, his posture stiffening. “On top of our wage.”
“How much is he paying you?” I asked. “Because you can make a hell of a lot more with us.”
A low string of murmurs rang out among the men.
Sir Owen, to his credit, only smirked. “Oh? I can hear your belly growling from here, lass. I doubt living as a vagabond in tatters is more profitable than honest guard work.”
“Nothing about Baron Mansfield is honest, Sir Owen, and you know it.”
Owen shrugged.
“You’re no better than us,” I challenged, but then Friar Tuck and Alan-a-Dale stepped closer to me, as if warning me I was going on a tangent, diverting from the plan, and this was not the way to win my enemies over.
“A better question,” I said, clearing my throat, trying to stay my anger. Owen speaking to me like I was beneath him pissed me off more than Benoit calling me a silly bitch. “How does the baron treat you? Like a dog? A slave? I heard how he demands your obedience—”
“Lass . . .” Tuck drawled in a strained voice.
