Nottingham

  “That’s the thing, Lena.” Will hovered over her. “I’m not. I’m not better than him. You’ve been whispering that in my ear ever since he showed up, but it’s not true. He’s a better leader, he’s smarter. He knew something was wrong about this, something I couldn’t see even though it was right in front of me. He didn’t get us here, Lena. You did.”

  He fought through tears and fury, seemingly driven by a terrible new clarity. “While Robin was teaching Much to defend himself, you taught him to sneak up from behind, which is what got him killed. You were the one that wanted to use him on the raid in Bernesdale. You attacked Gisbourne at Locksley Castle, that was you, damn it! Hell, it was even your idea to kill Sheriff de Lacy! I let you convince me, because I loved you—” His voice cracked and he lost himself, but a moment later he overcame it. “I loved you and I trusted you, I trusted you. And now you’ve killed my best friend.” He almost looked down at Alan, but didn’t. With the last of what he had left in him, as his will collapsed, “What exactly about my life have you not ruined?”

  The rest of them stood aghast. Will and Elena both kneeled in the frost, only a few feet from each other but impossibly far apart. Elena’s fingers scratched at the ground, as if she could pull him closer to her, but she couldn’t reach him, and he gave her nothing in return.

  John watched, but felt no pity for her. Deep inside him, whatever it was that comprised a man’s soul turned to stone. “You lied to us, Lena.”

  “What?” She raised her head. “John, no, I never did…”

  “You’re lying to me now.” John’s blood was cold, it pumped black. “You wanted us to kill Arable, to kill her for what you said she’d done to Alan. You begged us. You begged us to kill her before we found out the truth.”

  “You were going to kill me to hide your secret?” Arable’s voice trembled behind him. “I risked everything to help you. You’d be dead if not for me…”

  “No,” Elena gasped, but had nothing else to say. Anything would have been another lie.

  “Alan died trying to defend her, to say we have to trust each other, that we have to help each other.”

  John felt his skin go cold, an ice that wrapped around him. Maybe Elena moved, or maybe he did, he couldn’t tell, but his hand came down upon the back of her neck and she cried out. Her neck fit in his palm. The world was inky blue-green, time didn’t move, or it did all at once. “You swore an oath, Elena. You swore that we should pay in kind anyone who does us harm.” Her dark hair, the twine in her braid, she might have been a child. “And you’ve got quite the headcount.” How long had it been since he kissed her forehead? A few minutes? Or forever?

  Someone’s voice. Wait, John.

  “What are we supposed to do with you, girl? You say you’re sorry and we all go about our business? Pretend none of this never was? You’re working with the enemy. We were thinking about killing that poor girl just for suspecting as much.”

  “John.” This one was her voice, she grasped at his arm, she wrenched her head and twisted in his grasp until he could see her face. “John, you can’t mean this.”

  “You betrayed us! You killed Alan!”

  Words and tears and lies and lies. “I’ll go away. You’ll never see me again.”

  Someone. Gisbourne will find you.

  He can’t let you live either, he arranged for your escape.

  He didn’t arrange it, it was me.

  Arable, how did you get the keys to the cells?

  He left them behind. My God, he left them behind.

  Don’t you see? He positioned you into this.

  He used you to bring Elena to us.

  “John, you know me. You know I’m on your side. I made a mistake.”

  “I know you did, girl. A big mistake.”

  “It’s me.” Her body shook. Or the world shook. Or John shook. “It’s me, John, not some stranger! Doesn’t that count for anything?”

  “I have an idea.” The world lost its color. He shoved her face down, down into Alan’s body, down so that their faces were inches apart, down the way he would punish a dog, down so she would see what she had done, down, down, the only direction that was left. “Let’s have Alan decide!”

  “I’m sorry!”

  Those were words. She said them. They didn’t matter.

  “I promise to make it quick,” was more kindness than he needed give her, as he plucked her up and put his other hand on her jaw. She didn’t fight back.

  John, no, please. It’s Lena. It’s my Lena. Let her go, let her run.

  Will, my love—

  You don’t get to call me that.

  Everything I did—

  Stop talking!

  Please.

  John, look at me, please, wait, God, wait, please, look at me—

  —look at me, please.”

  In front of John was Will’s face, so close, his eyes bloated and red, his face half-bruised, somehow his hands were on John’s lapel, he was pulling. The world was out of focus. Had he done it yet? No, she was crying still. His fingers felt too big to fit on his hands.

  “Turn your head, Will. You shouldn’t see this.”

  Elena said something. John couldn’t hear her.

  “Please.” Will again. “Let her go. I’ll go with her. I’ll leave, too. This is my fault, I brought her here.”

  “They’ll catch her, Will.” John recognized this voice as his own. “They’ll torture her. You won’t be able to live with yourself. It’s better if we do it. There’s a pity there.”

  “I would hate you for it, John. I don’t want that. I’d rather hate myself.”

  Every part of John was old. He should have left with Marley.

  “I can take it,” he lied. “You can’t.”

  John closed his eyes

  and

  watched himself snap his arms together, to break her neck.

  But he couldn’t do it. In a gasp of life his anger vanished, his vision was clear, and he wanted it all to go away. Anything for her to still be there, brash little Elena curling her lip like a brat. He let her go and she slipped away.

  Behind, someone yelled, “Stop her!”

  Let her run, John thought. Let her run.

  He turned to watch her disappear into the woods, but she wasn’t running. She was at the campfire, finishing the last of the cup.

  Robin’s cup.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said as she dropped it.

  Then there was nothing left to do.

  Will moved, he grabbed her, he kissed her, his hands brushed her hair.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it,” he whispered an inch from her face. “We’ll get out of here, together. Let’s just go.”

  “I love you.” She said it flatly, calmly. “You know that, right?”

  “We’ll go back to the road, we can go anywhere you want, like we’ve always done. This was just a place. We’ll go to the next one. Come on.”

  “You’re the best man I’ve ever met.” She pulled his head even closer to her own. “Of course you said no to Gisbourne because you’re so good, and I’m not.”

  “No, no.” Will put his hands on her cheeks. “Let’s go. Let’s go now.”

  She tugged his hair and smiled. “You did the right thing when nobody else would.”

  “But it wasn’t the right thing, Lena,” he said as they both lowered down to the ground, and he cradled her in his arms. “It wasn’t the right thing to do.”

  “I tried,” she said, then gasped and rolled her head away and coughed red into her hand. She looked at her own blood. “I tried to do the right thing.”

  “I know,” he said, taking her hand back, not letting her see it.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t think about that.”

  She started to say something else but it came out in a hack, and before she could recover came another one, worse, and when she bent her head back, John couldn’t watch anymore.

  The sounds were terrible enough. There was no way to close hi
s ears. She choked for air. Every now and then came a little whimper between her fits, the scratching of her feet and hands clattering through the dirt, and the gentle pattering pecks of Will kissing her as she convulsed. His own breathing was fast and heavy, but he made no other noise except to say I know again and again, until they weren’t even words at all. Eventually the unbearable sounds of her struggling body faded, bit by bit, and was replaced with a telling quiet that was so very much worse.

  There

  didn’t

  seem

  any use in opening his eyes, so John didn’t.

  After she was still, and some time even later after that, Will screamed. It sent a chill down John’s spine, a wretched naked noise he would never forget. Will let it out now, all of it, and part of himself, too.

  After that he made no noise at all, for so long that John opened his eyes simply to be sure anyone was still there. Will was clutching Elena’s body on the ground, his head sunk down into her chest, her lips covered in blood. The others stood unmoving, like John, gravestones in the mist.

  Will sobbed while they stood in silence.

  When he had no more to cry they stood in silence still.

  As the fog grew barely thinner, just enough to reveal a few of the figures in the trees, still they stood.

  It

  didn’t

  really matter

  when the first of the intruders stepped forward.

  FIFTY-TWO

  GUY OF GISBOURNE

  THIEVES’ CAMP

  THERE WAS NO WAY to interrupt that wasn’t cruel. In the face of such stark humanity, the past didn’t matter. No depth of animosity Guy held for Will Scarlet could overcome the crippling display of his grief. And so they stood in utter silence, watching one murderer mourn another. Even the forest itself was not wicked enough to break the stillness. It lasted so long Guy might have doubted he was even visible through the fog, if not for a few meaningful glances he shared with Robin of Locksley. They acknowledged the moment, an understanding of that which would come next, and that it could wait.

  So they waited, longer, and longer, as Will Scarlet heaved over his poisoned lover. The world had no pity for her regrettable fate. She had once placed a blade to Guy’s throat, but grown to see the greater good over her own selfishness. Hers was the only heart here that had shown a glimpse of redemption, only to end so tragically.

  Still longer, they all stood.

  Guy had two dozen men from the common ranks with him, as well as the entirety of the Black Guard. They had silently encircled the outlaws, who finally started to twist nervously at their presence. When Guy spoke, he did everything he could to keep his voice quiet, respectful.

  “I am genuinely sorry it came to this.”

  Arable gulped air in shock. “You followed me?”

  “As I said,” Robin told her, emptily, “you led him right to us.”

  It was hardly that simple. It was impossible for thirty of them to follow Scarlet’s escape unnoticed. Instead they relied on Eric of Felley’s tracking skills to keep their trail. Guy had also posted men disguised as peasants in strategic places, anticipating their flight toward the Sherwood, but even still Eric had almost lost his quarry several times. Avoiding nearby Bernesdale had been particularly tricky, and its village full of poorfolk who still blamed the Guard for their troubles. But the gamble had paid off—Guy already held two of the thieves captive, catching them drinking from a cask of ale by the road. There were only ten left to apprehend, none of them visibly armed.

  Still they stood. Will Scarlet seethed, but most of the outlaws bore defeat from head to toe, and Guy’s men were prepared. Tempers would settle. The horror story of Robin Hood ended here. And, with Locksley as his prisoner instead of dead, Guy could still get what he needed to end Wendenal’s reign as well.

  But first, he had amends he needed to make.

  “Arable, I owe you a profound apology.” Guy moved to her, lowering his voice, desperate to rid himself of the torment he’d put her through. “I have treated you beyond unkindly. I took no pleasure in scaring you as I did.”

  She stammered for words. “You used me?”

  Will Scarlet had rejected Guy’s proposal in the end, but convincing Elena to return to the Sherwood and poison Robin of Locksley had been surprisingly easy. The hard part had been to orchestrate their escape in a way that left Guy plausibly uninvolved.

  “I needed to protect myself, Arable, in case it went poorly,” Guy explained, searching her eyes. “You can see that, can’t you? I had to compel someone outside the Guard to set them free.”

  Her mouth opened and closed quickly again. Guy felt genuinely wretched. The way he had threatened her, assaulting her in the bedroom, it was a despicable thing. But he needed to push her far over the edge, to give her no choice, to force her to leave the castle that night. He had arranged for Marshall’s interruption, had dropped his keys for her to find. They had given her every hint she needed. The worst part had been playing the role of someone sinister enough to say such heinous things in earnest.

  “I thought for certain you saw through my ruse. I’m both relieved and extremely sorry you didn’t.”

  She only stared at him. “How did you know I would go through with it?”

  “I didn’t,” he admitted. “I didn’t think Elena Gamwell would go through with it, either. Made a botch of it, obviously, but still.” Why the poison had worked so quickly, he did not know. He would have to take that up with the Bishop of Hereford once everything settled.

  Arable backed away from him. “You’re a monster.”

  That hurt. He tried to prove otherwise, by ignoring it. “As I say, I apologize. You will not be held accountable for your actions tonight, and are welcome to return with us. Nottingham owes you its thanks.”

  But she kept backing up. “I’m not going back there.”

  Guy lowered his head and winced. He had been afraid of this. She was reacting emotionally. Surely if she were calm she would see the folly of leaving the city’s safety.

  “You will be going back,” he said sternly, for her own sake. “You can choose the manner. After all, there are two stories I could tell when we return. The first, the truth, is of a loyal handmaiden who played her part in avenging the late Sheriff de Lacy. The second is of an insolent girl who released two murderers and betrayed her country. Which would you prefer?”

  “I can’t…” Arable shook her head. “You … I never…”

  Guy couldn’t believe it. He had more important things to do than coddle a servant girl into caring about her own life. “You’ll come with us, and someday you’ll recognize the kindness I’ve shown you. Alright, men, let’s take them all into custody.”

  At his command, the circle of Guardsmen constricted. Then froze. Will Scarlet had risen from where he knelt beside Elena’s body, the lone discarded sword back in his hands. Whatever was left of him was gravel.

  “Come and get us.”

  Against all sanity, Robin of Locksley walked forward and joined Scarlet, even though he had no weapon to carry. John Little put his hand at Arable’s waist and urged her to hurry behind them. Then he stepped forward as well, because nothing was ever easy. “Now’s as good a time as any.”

  Fortunately, and despite recent precedent, Guy was not an idiot.

  He laughed, mostly to keep his men calm. Letting these bastards go out fighting was precisely what they wanted, and Guy had no interest in feeding their desire to follow the traitor lord into martyrdom.

  “Ooh, I have an excellent idea, actually, let’s not do this again. We’ve been here before, you recall, us hacking at each other to nobody’s benefit. Last time you shot one of my best men in the chest from the rooftop and then you all escaped. And that’s fine, that’s one option, but I was thinking another for today. Let’s have you come along willingly and we’ll save ourselves the nastier bits.”

  Robin frowned. “Why would we do that?”

  Guy flopped his hands out, hoping for levity. “
Generosity?” From face to face he found no response. “No? No one? Alright then, perhaps this.” His black doublet gave way as he revealed the creased parchment, which he elevated above his head. “This is a signed edict from Lord William de Wendenal, the High Sheriff of Nottinghamshire, Derbyshire, et cetera et cetera—that’s his signature and seal right there, if you’re doubtful—” he handed the document to Robin for inspection, “—that demands the razing of the Sherwood.”

  “The most ridiculous ploy I’ve ever heard,” Sheriff Wendenal had said, even as he begrudgingly signed the prop. “Robin will never fall for this.”

  But Guy had bet the opposite, because Robin of Locksley would always believe in the worst in people. Predictably, he gasped and scoured the parchment. “You couldn’t…”

  “Every last tree, burned to the ground,” Guy elaborated. “Fire brigades are preparing even as we speak. They’ll leave the castle on first light, and start fires throughout the Sherwood, traveling north, burning it from the inside out. The smoke will make an excellent backdrop for Baron de Lacy’s funeral.” That much was true, even. He’d set the task to his Common Guard, in the hopes that the word would travel. To back up his bluff.

  Guy spread his arms wide and bowed theatrically, then let it drop to laugh at his own charade. “Oh, stop your worrying, it’s not going to actually happen. If I give the word, I can stop it. This edict only takes effect if you refuse to surrender yourself to me. Or, I suppose, if you kill me. So no, let’s not fight.”

  And it worked. John Little slumped, even Will Scarlet seemed to lose his fire. Guy had made himself unkillable—the survival of the Sherwood was bound to his own.

  “All of us?” Robin asked, with a humbling defeat. “Or just me?”

  Guy blinked. “All of you. Are you joking? There’s no bargaining here. You lost. Lay down, put your hands behind your backs. All of you. I can’t believe I have to explain that.”

  None of them moved.

  “You won’t burn the forest down,” Arable said, thinking herself incredibly brave by standing straighter. “It would kill thousands of people. It would devastate Nottinghamshire. Nobody is that insane.”