Robin fucked so hard he shook Cal. Enduring the battering became a strain, but Cal wouldn't give up. Power, heat, and energy flowed from Robin, enough to keep Cal going. All he had to do was caress with lips and tongue and await that wondrous, hot flood.
Robin touched his hair, the merest of strokes, before gripping hard and twisting. "Cal. Oh, Cal, yes."
The sweetness of Robin's words struck him as hard as the thrusts. He battled to believe.
He wants me. He'll trust me. And then, whatever happens, I've won.
Chapter Eight
Robin dreamed about Cal.
A summer sun shone, and he reclined in a meadow with Cal wrapped in his embrace. When their lust grew too urgent for laughter and conversation, the other man slid between Robin's legs.
The face was Cal's, as was that slender, athletic body. His hair, many hues of gold and bronze, put the array of meadow flowers to shame. Robin felt Cal slide neat lips over his cock, working with an expert touch, then sucking him deep. When he looked into Cal's eyes, his heart ached, as needy as his shaft.
This man's expression brimmed with love and trust, but Cal belonged to a world of fading light and autumn drizzle, of blood, treachery, and loneliness. This couldn't be Cal, though never had a dream felt so real. Whoever this pixie of sunshine was, he sent liquid fire scorching straight to Robin's cock.
The man withdrew his wetness and miniver-soft heat. Robin groaned in desolation.
"Come back," he muttered, and his request was obeyed.
The spectral sun didn't warm Robin's skin, but the rush of sensation about his cock coaxed him to euphoria. Again and again, his lover scrubbed that clever tongue. Robin sensed the pleasure Cal took in his task, the desire to gratify radiating from every act. Robin curled his fists and bucked his hips, plundering till he felt the gentle undulations at the back of his lover's throat.
He could no longer see the meadow, but the other man grew more real—his hard body between Robin's legs, the fire of his breath, and the brush of his morning stubble. Robin threw all his energy into fucking the lad's mouth, but he wanted him closer, needed to appreciate him with more than the power of his loins. His climax mounted in the base of his shaft. He reached for Cal, caressing, then grasping his hair.
"Cal," he whispered. "Oh, Cal. Yes."
He opened his eyes, and the real Cal filled his vision. This was no dream, but he was too lost to care. Each muscle in his body stretched taut, and he flew, soaring ever higher. Then his rapture burst. He entwined his fingers in Cal's hair and rode a torrent of bliss. Cal swallowed Robin's seed, the delicate cords of his throat flexing, then leaned back and wiped his lips.
In the damp grey atmosphere of the ruin, nothing gleamed about Cal. His hair looked as ashen as his skin. Robin's anger swelled like a storm. He sat up, struggling to find words.
"Don't be angry," Cal garbled. "It was good, wasn't it? You wanted me, and I can please you more. As soon as you're ready. Anything you like."
"I wanted nothing from you." Robin almost spat. His words happened to be lies, but if he were the stronger man he'd once been, they wouldn't be. Rising, he yanked his tunic to cover his softening cock. "All you've done is show you can't be trusted."
"But you said my name. I thought…"
"I was asleep. I've offered you protection, warmth, food. Hell, I saved your life. All I wanted was one good reason to put faith in you, and you…you…"
You sucked my cock.
He wanted to yell with anger and as loud as thunder, though a sense of churlishness niggled. He'd been aware of the effort Cal had put in. He was as skilled as a whore, might have been trained along those lines from an early age. Not that Cal could have seen many more than eighteen or nineteen summers even now.
Robin frowned so hard his temples throbbed. Cal looked crestfallen, sinking back on his haunches.
"What possessed you?" asked Robin, relenting a little.
Cal shrugged, peeping from beneath his drooping fringe. "I desired it. You're a beautiful man, and your cock is magnificent. The finest I have ever taken."
"Flattery does not win trust, Cal."
"Damn trust! I enjoyed it, and so did you. All I desired was for you to want me back. You can beat me, throttle me, stick your fist in me—I don't care. What do I have to do?"
A hidden nerve shook the scarlet of Cal's lower lip. Robin sucked in a swift breath, shocked. After everything he'd told Cal, the lad still hadn't a clue what friendship entailed. How could Cal believe he wanted to hurt him, to treat him brutally? Robin's anger waned further, but he wrapped armour about his heart.
Cal was a cunning little snake. Robin had known from the beginning. "We need to get moving. Get out of this forest."
"I can't argue with that." Cal got up, brushing down his clothes with furious motions. Robin gathered the contents of his pack and eyed Cal carefully. Maybe he could have been a tad gentler in his response. On the other hand, if Cal attempted to clout his brains out with a fallen beam, he would be ready.
Cal raked his limp hair from his brow and reclaimed his cool. "What about Odo?"
Robin ground his teeth. "What about him?"
"I've been thinking. The barons and knights are due to pass through the forest today. Odo always travels at the head of the bunch, and he rides hard, often far from the others. You want him dead, now's your chance."
Robin kicked ash across the hearth, tempted. This deep in the Greenwood, it would be difficult to pin blame for the baron's death on any beyond spirits or outlaws. He could slay Odo in a one-on-one battle.
Or two-on-one?
He allowed himself a wry smile. That depended on what Cal's purposes were in offering this information, now of all times.
"Do you believe killing Odo would prevent the charter?"
Cal wrinkled his nose. "I honestly don't know. It might shake the other barons and make them easier to sway with threats."
"I could take him hostage," murmured Robin. Cal twisted his lips in a smirk, and Robin couldn't chide him for it. Odo would fight to the death before surrendering to captivity.
"I've got a better idea," said Cal. "You could take Sir Randolf hostage."
"That knight you were messing with in the orchard?"
"Yeah, him." Cal snorted. "He thinks he's like Odo and also loves riding out alone, swinging his damned sword about. But he's a blockhead, as skilled with his weapon as a three-legged donkey, and his squire says his eyesight is bad. If we catch him apart from the bunch, you could take him hostage, no trouble."
Robin shook his head. "To prevent this charter, he'd have to be worth a king's ransom."
"Oh, he is." Cal offered a secretive smile. "Randolf is the eldest son of Baron Brock, whose estates stretch from the verges of the Greenwood to the lands where they speak the tongue of Kernow. Men at court complain Brock is richer than the crown, and he worships his son."
It wasn't a bad plan, and less risky than a direct assault on Odo. No other man ignited such hatred in Robin, and he could easily lose control where Odo was concerned and get himself killed to no end.
He swung his pack onto his shoulders. "Come on."
"Where are we going?"
"North, then west, to search for the road."
Cal squirmed on the balls of his feet. "We're going to take Randolf hostage?"
"No. If I get a chance, I'm going to do that." He rounded on Cal and drew his dagger. "I've got another prisoner to see to first."
Cal slammed his heels down. "Why are you pointing that knife at me?"
Robin toughened his resolve as well as his glower. In the aftermath of their cross words, Cal's helpful suggestions and breezy tone were too good to be believed. Robin had no evidence Cal schemed against him but trusted his instincts. "You intend to turn me over to your party as soon as we reach them."
"That's not true!" Cal edged back toward the wall. There was nowhere to run.
"Yes, it is. If you wanted to help me take hostages, you'd have to commit yourself to staying in the G
reenwood for at least another day. It would be suicide, given what you know of your ancestry."
Cal stretched his blue eyes wide. "Y-yes, but we could follow the road out and hide any hostage beyond the bounds."
"I can't take that risk."
"But—"
"Not another word. It isn't worth it. When we get closer to the road, I'll have to bind and gag you, but as long as you behave, I'll make sure you're free and out of here by nightfall."
Robin grabbed Cal and pushed him in front. Cal didn't resist, and for a brief moment, Robin recalled how his body and soul had cried out for Cal. Cal shot him a bitter look, and doubt niggled. Robin refused it.
He's plotting to betray me—or kill me.
He started Cal on his way with a shove that set him staggering. "Get moving."
*~*~*
You really should bind me, Robin Hood, because I'm tempted to stab you with your own dagger.
As they trudged from the ruined manor, Cal's mind festered with silent threats. He didn't believe he'd follow through on them. He knew himself too well, at least the part of him that quailed at slaughter, coward that he was.
Each dab of his tongue to his lips brought back the potent musk of Robin. The second time he stumbled, Robin clamped a hand around his upper arm like a jailer, and his frustration boiled. Had Robin been more gracious this morning, Cal would have offered the same information and sworn to fight at his side in good faith. As it was, Robin had been right. After Robin's cruel snub, Cal had considered treachery, but he'd never committed to it.
He wanted to tear his hair out at the unfairness of it all.
Instead he willed hatred and reminded himself to tread with care. Turn Robin over to the wrong men, and they'd slaughter Cal and keep the reward for themselves. But if a good chance came to give up Robin, he'd take it.
He didn't want to, but Robin had pushed him to the stage where he'd little choice. Damn his eyes, why couldn't Robin see that?
Cal seethed till his bones ached and his shoulder throbbed, though as their journey lengthened, his anger dulled. Drab light seeped between the silver skeletons of birches, bringing with it a smattering of rain. He grasped at dreams of future wealth, of a lush mantle with sleeves of white ermine, but all he truly desired was a friendly look from Robin.
How pathetic.
Keeping a firm hold and tight watch on Cal, Robin stayed preoccupied by their route. He repeatedly looked to the bright patch of cloud that concealed the sun. Just as Cal opened his mouth to complain of exhaustion, they broke into a clearing, only the third or fourth they'd come across.
Robin halted. "We must be nearing the road by now. I'm going to have to gag you soon."
Cal rolled his eyes. "And fasten my wrists behind my back, after all that fuss you made to stop the fairies from tearing my wound open?"
"No. I'll tie you to a tree."
"Oh, so you're going to desert me here, prey for the fair folk and spirits. How gallant you are."
"You know I won't do that," said Robin. Cal realized he was pouting and schooled his features into a tougher glare. "I won't desert you. I'll tether you somewhere hard by as soon as we find the road."
"Or you could just trust me?"
Robin studied the heavens again, and Cal slumped to his knees. "I'm too hungry to walk. If I'm your prisoner, you'd better feed me, or you're going to have to drag me."
Robin retrieved a piece of bread from his pack. Cal caught it and eyed Robin's sheathed dagger. If he could grab the weapon, he might make some threat, fashion an escape. But Robin stayed out of his reach, and in some ways, it was a relief. Cal chewed on the flavourless hunk and stared with grudging admiration at Robin's muscular thighs.
"I don't understand," murmured Robin. "We've tracked the same direction all morning, but I'm sure we've been through this clearing before."
Cal conceded that a blasted ash at the end of the dell looked familiar. He smirked, concealed a shiver at the notion they were no nearer to leaving the forest, and then choked down his mouthful. "Call this food? The mice at Westminster eat better."
Robin wasn't paying attention. He inclined his head sideways and stared west. "I can hear water, and it's getting louder."
Cal too detected a muffled roar.
"We've not crossed a river," said Robin. "Maybe this place is new after all."
Cal tried to look smug. "No. The wind must have changed, that's all. I remember that ash with the great jagged branch on it."
"Something strange is happening here." Robin grabbed Cal's good arm and pulled him up. "We need to get moving."
Robin led him forward through the brushwood, and Cal cursed him. Strange things in this forest could not be good news. Twigs scratched his face, and the image of that barbed ash limb thrust through his belly reared up in his imagination. Then the foliage parted, and Robin braced an arm in front of Cal lest he tumble. They stood on the verge of a fast-flowing river, several yards wider than Cal could jump.
Robin's soft words barely carried above the rush of the water. "We're not alone."
On the far bank, a woman sat on a rock, her sodden gown clinging to the contours of her voluptuous form. The silver of her hair betrayed none of the dullness of age, glistening bright as a freshly minted coin. As she worked a comb through it, droplets sprayed as if from a cloudburst.
"Is she fair folk?" whispered Cal, unable to conceal his trepidation.
"I don't know. She seems…different."
She turned their way, and Cal's fears soared. Her sea-green eyes gleamed as if candles blazed within them, and her skin shone like coral.
If she was a spirit, he could be done for. Her benign smile befuddled him.
"Robin Hood." The tone of her voice plummeted low for a female's. "You have lost your way."
"She knows your name," hissed Cal. "Have you met her before?"
Robin shook his head, and Cal's stomach clenched tight. Could she be a sorceress about to put them under some sort of spell? Or stew them alive in her cooking pot?
"Don't be afraid," she said. "This is the first time our paths have crossed, Robin, but I knew your mother."
"His mother!" Cal looked up at Robin. If he'd been in Robin's place, he would have unleashed a barrage of questions. Robin clenched his jaw as if scared the woman would snatch his tongue.
"Was she a Saxon princess, like they say?" called Cal. Somebody had to ask.
The female laughed and shook her long tresses, water scattering like sparks from a fire.
"Why did she desert her babe in Inglewood?" asked Cal.
"She liked to wander, even toward the end." The woman drilled her gaze into him, sending the sensation of ice trickling down his spine. "Trust the outlaw, boy, and retreat the way you came. You will find the path you seek."
"The road can't be back that way," said Robin, as placid as if the question of his parentage had never been raised. "We would have had to cross it before now."
"Go east." The woman turned her back and continued grooming her hair.
Cal wrinkled his nose. "Aren't you interested in what else she's got to say?"
"My mother died," whispered Robin. "I always knew it in my heart, and that's what our friend confirmed, and she ought to know the truth. From what I know of the ancient servants of the Goddess, I believe she's Sulis, the spirit of water."
Robin frowned and led him back into the undergrowth. As soon as they'd passed out of the woman's sight, Cal shook himself. He'd been so enthralled by the queen of the rivers he'd missed an opportunity to steal Robin's knife. Then again, he felt relieved Sulis hadn't slaughtered him.
Robin dropped to his knees, tugging Cal with him. He gripped his dagger tight, his expression grew fierce, and then Cal discerned the brisk thud of hooves against mud, which made no sense. They'd not even reached the clearing again. A horse couldn't make that sort of haste between the trees, and the road couldn't be here…without magic.
His tension coiled tighter. If he glimpsed a familiar coat of arms, he could holler
. So why hadn't Robin slapped a hand over his mouth?
A flash of movement not a yard off answered his silent query. He and Robin had veered so near the track Robin daren't make the slightest shift. Through winding brambles, Cal stared at the brawny legs of a stallion, the mount of a knight or baron. The rider halted, and the animal's thick breaths rasped. All Cal had to do was shout out, but who did he face? Squinting up, he recognized the emblem of the chained bear and a sculpted face that set his blood congealing to ice.
Odo.
Damn. Why did it have to be Odo? If it had been Berolt, he'd know to keep quiet, and he might have shouted out to some of the other knights, who were ever conscious of their honour and wouldn't have slaughtered him and Robin on the spot. With Odo, indecision crippled him.
A dagger, sword, and axe hung at the baron's side. Otherwise he'd dressed as lightly as at camp and wore no helmet. In a leisurely fashion, Odo glanced their way. Maybe he knew they were there and was calculating the best moment to grab that axe and hurl it down. A cloud of fury settled across Robin's features, and Cal bit his lip to the point of pain.
Robin squeezed Cal's knee. Cal wanted to snatch him and keep him there. Too late. Robin stood up and pushed the brush aside.
"Baron Odo."
Cal's belly did a flip. He half-expected Odo to take his broadsword and cleave Robin's head from his shoulders before Robin had time to duck down. Instead Odo's delighted cry was as unguarded a sound as Cal had ever heard from the baron.
"Robin Hood! This is a pleasure." His appreciative grin underlined his words. He turned his horse about, its hooves scuffing in the mud, to better look down at Robin. "So far from home? Ah, you missed me enough to follow."
Robin's laugh was frosty. "Don't flatter yourself, Odo. I was grateful when you threw me away to die."
Odo? No commoner who dared address a baron in such a disrespectful fashion would live long. Odo rewarded Robin with a ravishing smile. "I made a mistake. There was more to you than even the glorious display of manhood that piqued my appetite. Why didn't you tell me you were…so special?"
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