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“What we got is not a lot of time,” I said, hurrying him. “Where have you been? Emma’s been—”
“Lady Emma?” His body went rigid, a serious expression dawning on his disheveled face. “Where is she? Ain’t seen the lass in weeks.” He shouldered his smaller friend. “You hear that, Tick?”
“Sure did, Ros.” Tick sniffled and wiped an arm over his snotty nose.
Some things never change. Is this boy perpetually ill? Poor lad.
“Is she rightly?”
“She’s fine, Rosco,” I said. “Bit of a hassle getting her. But fine, now.”
His cheeks flushed. He tried to hide it, being the swaggering, arrogant young man that he was. “Erm, well, that’s good. Always knew she would be, hoy?”
I hid a smirk, realizing from Rosco’s reaction that he had a bit of an infatuation with Emma. It was impossible to hide on his ruddy face.
“I s’pose I should be joining you, then? Make sure Emma’s rightly and all.” He puffed his chest out.
My smile widened—
And then wavered as I heard Will behind me. “No good, lad. She wants you to stay here to act as our eyes in Nottingham. Can you do that?”
Guilt spread through me at Will’s callous lie.
I couldn’t deny it was a good idea, though a heartless one.
Rosco snorted like it was a ridiculous notion—suggesting he couldn’t be an adept spy? To protect his pride, he said, “Course I can, penny-snatcher. What’s it to you?”
I glanced back toward the road and the bridge. Still clear. For now. “Em told me to find you, Rosco. Why?”
“Hell should I know?”
I rolled my eyes. “We don’t have money on us to pay you right now—”
“This ain’t about money, tiny lord. I don’t know what she’d . . . Oh. Wait.” He peered over my shoulder to Will. “You’re part of the Merry Men.”
I nodded firmly.
He pointed past our carriage, to the estate. “And you used to live there.”
He was starting to string the threads together.
“Then you’ll want to see this,” he said, and I hopped out of the carriage to follow him.
“Hold, Robin—” Will began, but when I glared at him over my shoulder, he simply sighed and ran out of the carriage to join me. His hands never left the handles of the blades at his back, eyes on a perpetual swivel for danger.
When we made it to the empty courtyard of my former estate, fear and guilt and sorrow washed over me in equal measures. My footsteps faltered as I took in the rosebushes losing their luster; the hedges that were becoming overgrown; the silly fountain of the urinating angel that had stopped spilling water. So many memories here, and so quickly it had all gone to shit.
Will noticed something wrong with me, and stopped. “That’s far enough for us. What is it, Rosco?”
The boy darted toward the front door of the manse. It was only then I noticed something nailed to the door, which made me furrow my brow.
He tugged it off and came back holding a small leather bag, tossing it to me. As I stared down at the light bag in my palm, Rosco kept talking. “Guess there is some news for you, if you’re holing up with this lot, tiny lord.”
My focus was stuck to the bag.
“The criers in Nott’ been talking about an execution come up. A public one, like.” He shrugged.
Will said, “Why does that matter to—”
