“Don’t start crying all the time just because you have on a dress,” said Will, breaking the tension. He handed me my bow, and James gave me the quiver.
Guilbert held the dungeon door open. “Drag those two in here,” he said, nodding at the unconscious men. Will and James grabbed one guard and deposited him in the prison, while Little John managed the other by himself. Then the captain closed and locked the door.
“That can’t be all the guards,” I said, because the bailey had been swarming like an anthill before.
“My rangers have locked the Nottingham regulars in the guardhouse,” Guilbert said. Will and John looked at him with varying amounts of distrust and dislike but didn’t say anything. “There’s still the royal guard to deal with, and the sheriff’s personal men.”
“Oh, no problem, then.” I faked a confidence I was far from feeling. I took a practice draw with my bow, and the last intact underarm seam of my gown split. The elbows were still too tight for a full draw, though. “Who has a knife?”
Will took his from his belt and cut my sleeves where I pointed, over the elbow, and then gave the cloth a good rip so my arms could bend freely.
I caught them up while Will did his tailoring. “The assassin is still here and will probably try again, especially since I got blamed. I have to find him, or figure out his next move and intercept it.”
“Just to be clear, Ellie,” said Will, in a last-ditch-effort sort of tone. “You’re risking a sword in the gut for a man who is right now planning your execution. Your gruesome execution. Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Look at the thanks you got the first time you saved his royal backside,” said Little John.
James, when I looked at him, said, “I am sworn to defend even the likes of Prince John. So is Henry, as an agent of the crown. But you are not. I would rather you go with Will and John and be safe.”
As much as I didn’t want to be beheaded by the sheriff of Nottingham, it had been the thought of execution at the Tower that was the real gut check. Cruel and unusual punishment was not against the law here. And the punishments were exactly that—cruel and unusual.
Maybe I’d done enough. Maybe I’d foiled the assassination attempt, done my duty, and the tunnel would be open. Or, if it wasn’t, well, as long as I was alive, there was hope I’d get home.
Did I honestly want to risk certain death for a bad prince who would be a negligible king except for that one thing he did that was important?
But what if this was my one thing?
Guilbert weighed in last. “You’re no longer the only one who can identify the assassin. Isabel had a look at him.”
“Here’s what I think,” I said with finality. “Everyone will be off their guard believing I’m locked up. An assassin would be stupid to miss this opportunity. And Thaddeus—the assassin we know about—he was sending that message to someone. So he may have a conspirator. Or a backup plan. Or, who knows, maybe blame-the-outlaw has always been plan A.” I waved a hand, as if swiping those things away. “But I have to stay, whether or not you do, Will and John.”
They didn’t even glance at each other to confer. “If you need to stay, then we do, too,” said Will, and Little John nodded. “Though I’m not sure what two extra men will do against all the prince’s guards and the sheriff’s brutes.”
“Fewer may be better,” said James. “We should keep this quiet, and keep the assassin complacent.”
“The sooner the better, too,” said Guilbert, nodding up at the parapet. “The sentries are still at their posts and they’ll be around in a moment.”
“What about the caves under the castle?” I said. “The secret passage. Can we get into the keep by that route?”
Guilbert and James exchanged startled glances. “I did not tell her,” James avowed, raising one hand to ward off Guilbert’s accusatory look.
The captain turned back to me. “Is that what you were doing the day you were here? A reconnaissance?”
“Hardly.” Though I guess I had been on an exploratory mission when I headed down the tunnel back in…Wow. It felt like it really had been eight hundred years ago. “I never plan that far ahead.”
Guilbert looked surprised, then offended. “You and your band have evaded my rangers this whole time and you just…just…”
“Wing it, is what we say where I come from.” Though, it was more a case of knowing my strengths so I didn’t have to intellectualize too much. Medals are won on the practice range. It wasn’t like I didn’t have goals.
“How do you stand that?” Guilbert asked James.
“I stand her very well,” he said simply, his shoulder next to mine. Little John was on my other side, and Will Scarlet flanked him. My band of brothers.
Guilbert took the point and, hardly mocking at all, pressed his hand to his chest in a sort of salute. “My apologies, captain of the greenwood. Tonight, I stand with you, too. But I would rather not stand here all night.”
“One more moment,” James said. “Since you spoke of reconnaissance—” He gave a sharp whistle. A servant girl appeared from around the corner. She wore a shabby dress and apron, and her hair was covered by a kerchief. And she looked familiar.
“Elsbeth?” No, he was close enough that I got a look at the eyebrows. “Much! You’re dressed like a girl.”
Even in the torchlight I could see he was blushing. “I got the idea from you.”
“What did you find out?” asked James.
Much dragged the kerchief from his mop of hair and answered the knight. “The royals are all in the best rooms in the keep, way up top. Prince John retired for the evening, on account of his grievous injury. The queen and her ladies-in-waiting are at one end of the great hall, and the knights and lords as are here for the hunting are at the other, drinking all the ale in Nottingham, says the cook, who says she doesn’t know what she’ll give them to drink tomorrow.”
“Where’s the sheriff?” I asked.
“Moaning and wailing because the prince has taken himself to his bed after all the work Nottingham did to host him.” Much seemed to enjoy the sheriff’s displeasure most of all. “He nearly licked the floor for His Highness, trying to get back in his good graces, but Prince John says his nerves are in tatters, just like his sleeve. The sheriff sent for the physician to attend His Highness. Probably going to bleed him,” he added, with bloodthirsty glee.
Ugh, leeches was my first thought. My second thought was more to the point. “Couldn’t a physician easily kill someone by letting them bleed too much?”
James shook his head. “He wouldn’t be left alone with the prince for just that reason.”
Little John cleared his throat. “You know, Rob, when Alan was telling us what he heard in that tavern…”
He trailed off leadingly, cutting his eyes distrustfully toward the deputy sheriff. Guilbert gestured impatiently, not at Little John, but to me.
“He mentioned poison,” said James. “It was a very vague story.”
“Just because something makes a good story,” said Will, “doesn’t mean it’s not true.”
“Poison.” I looked from James to Guilbert. “That seems like something a physician could definitely do, and under everyone’s noses.”
Guilbert turned, obviously expecting us to fall in behind him. “Come. We’ll discuss while we walk.”
I put the kerchief back over Much’s hair and gave him a hug. “Stay safe.”
He grinned up at me cheekily. “Okay, Captain Ellie.”
Little John had picked up a guard’s helmet that had fallen to the ground. “Are you coming?” Will asked him.
“I don’t like tunnels. I never fit.” He put the helmet on and mashed it down on his hair. “I’ll see you inside.”
Will and I had to jog to catch up with Guilbert and James. Despite what the captain had said, there was no talking as we crossed the castle’s ground level. We moved quietly, falling into the shadows once as a sentry walked the parapet above us. Then, at Guilbert’s gest
ure, we moved silently on to the low door where I’d emerged ages ago. My eyes had adjusted to the moonlit courtyard, and there were fires lit in the bailey close to the keep. But the tunnel was pitch-black.
“A torch will give us away.” Guilbert stepped into the tunnel and offered me his free hand. I ignored it, then found out the sloped ground was covered in gravel and loose dirt. I ended up grabbing his hand after all. Once I had my feet under me, Guilbert moved my hand to the sandstone wall. “Keep your right hand on the wall, and you won’t get lost.”
I had a moment of déjà vu, from when I’d stumbled through the swallowing darkness between my then and this now. This dark, though, stood still and didn’t turn me upside down. There was no sense of an open door, either. I slung my bow and hurried after the captain, keeping my hand on the wall.
“You’re wrong about the physician,” said Guilbert as we went. “Jerome Arden is a respected man. He’s attended the sheriff and the barons of Nottingham and Derbyshire—the ones who can afford him.”
“Then he’d be the first called if something happened to the prince, right?” There must have been a little light from somewhere, because when I glanced back to make sure James and Will were behind me, I could see the white of James’s surcoat as a patch of light gray, as opposed to Guilbert, who was basically invisible in his dark-colored clothes. “The sheriff and the barons are not stellar references.”
“But the sheriff enjoys his power because of the prince,” said Guilbert. “He’s John’s man through and through.”
“Lackey, you mean.” I let it drop when I smelled a smell that still gave me nightmares. “Are we near the river?”
“This tunnel is used to transport supplies arriving by river up to the bailey.” Guilbert had stopped—I felt the subtle change in the air currents and halted before I ran into him.
“We’re here,” he said, and I heard him feeling along the wall.
James had stopped behind me, his hand touching my back as if to keep track of where I was in the dark. “Do you remember how to open it?” he asked Guilbert.
“Of course I remember. I’m the one who’s been in Nottingham all this time.”
“I beg your pardon. I hadn’t guessed the bowels of the castle were on your sentry rounds.”
“Boys,” I chided, though sarcasm was better than swords when it came to their hacking at each other.
Will’s voice came from behind James. “Does anyone in Nottingham not know how to get into the castle by the secret door?”
James, missing the point a little bit, explained, “Henry, Isabel, and I discovered the door when we were children. There’s a combination of levers and counterweights—”
There was a soft click and a whisper of movement, and a slice of warm light cut through the dark. The two knights exchanged one of those looks, the one that said they were thinking the same thing, and whatever that was made them plunge ahead through the narrow portal, one after the other. I managed to catch the door before it swung closed, and Will and I followed. The only sign of the other two was James’s heel disappearing around a curved stair.
The passage was just wide enough to swing a sword, with shallow steps carved into the sandstone. “The torches are lit,” Will said. “Someone has been through this way.”
We exchanged looks of our own, and ran up the stairs, unshouldering our bows as we went.
When the passage ended, Will and I finally caught up with Guilbert and James. The door opened inward and was hidden behind a tapestry. The knights didn’t even confer about a plan, just pushed back the wall hanging and strode out like they hadn’t been apart for ten years, let alone fighting with freaking broadswords less than a week ago. I glanced at Will. “Should we just charge out after them?”
“Your chers amis didn’t hesitate.”
My look turned into more of a glare. “Not the time, Will Scarlet.”
There was always time for some things, apparently. He gave me an obvious ogle and a smirk. “Well, that is a well-tailored gown. I am not the only one to notice.”
“Stop distracting me.” I listened for noise, and heard only muffled voices. Peering out, I saw a corridor lined with more tapestries. At regular intervals, big iron candleholders, as tall as me, lit the hall. The dowager queen’s apartment was up here, too. I’d walked down this way with Isabel about an age ago.
I slid into the corridor, where I could hear from around the corner someone challenging James and Guilbert to stop where they were. Will and I pressed up against the corner and listened to the answer. “Stand aside,” ordered Guilbert, in a voice even I might have obeyed. “We have a message for his grace.”
“On whose orders?” demanded a sentry.
“Captain Sir Henry Guilbert, chief forester and deputy sheriff of Nottingham.”
It sounded impressive to me, but not to the guard. “A backcountry deputy and a Templar Knight.” The guard’s sneering tone and his “backcountry” crack made him sound like one of the royal guards, Prince John’s own retinue. “We know how you churchy types think of His Highness. Give me the message and go back to your forest.”
I got low and peered around the corner. I could have warned the guard that Guilbert had a temper. But then he wouldn’t have been so surprised when the captain punched him in the face. The man reeled back, blood streaming from between his fingers as he clutched his nose.
“Come on,” said Will. “We’re missing the fun part.”
The other guard brought the business end of his pike down and James knocked the spear to the side. Will and I had arrows ready as we stepped out into the corridor, just as six Nottingham soldiers came up the hall from the opposite direction, led by the sheriff.
“Stop there!” the sheriff said, but as soon as he saw Will’s arrow pointed at his chest, he jumped out of the way. One of his solders was Little John–sized, and once he bashed two of his comrades’ heads together, everything got kind of crazy.
“Get to the prince,” Will said. “John and I have got this.”
He sounded kind of excited about it, so I took him at his word and ran up the hall. The two sentries were on the ground and I had to step over them as I followed Guilbert and James to the royal apartment. It was a good thing I was okay with winging it, because maybe the guys had a plan, but I didn’t know it.
Guilbert, still with a full head of steam, rapped quickly on the prince’s door, then threw it open without waiting for an answer. “Your grace,” he said. “There’s danger of another attempt on your life.”
That was rich coming from the guy who’d just taken down two royal bodyguards.
Prince John reclined on a divan in front of the fire. A servant—slack-jawed with surprise—stood with a cheese board in one hand and a knife in the other. And over His Highness bent a sinister figure in a black robe with bell sleeves, perfect for hiding things like knives and poisons.
Whoever he was, I’d never seen his face before.
“What’s the meaning of this?” demanded the prince, half rising from the divan.
“Your grace,” soothed the physician, and there was something desperate in his tone. “Your tonic—here, take it.”
He held an embossed gold cup toward the prince. He’d been holding it since Guilbert and I had burst in. Everyone else had jumped, but his hand had never wavered. Whatever was in there must be really important.
“James,” I said, my nocked arrow pointing to the physician. “The cup…”
The wide-eyed man looked from one knight to the other, then back to me. I saw his decision to flee before he even moved. I fired, and pinned one bell sleeve to the timber mantel above the fireplace. The arrow never touched him, but he screamed anyway. So did the servant and the prince. The physician didn’t lose his grip on the cup, but a glass vial rolled from his sleeve. It tumbled end over end and smashed on the stones of the hearth.
Guilbert strode over and took the cup before the man could drop as well. The physician shrank against the wall, reconsidering a move to pull himsel
f free.
Prince John had leapt to his feet, wrapping tight his fur-lined robe. “Guards!” he screamed. “Seize this traitor! Seize all these traitors!”
The two royal guards limped in. James was waiting, and backed them into a corner, half with his sword, half through intimidation. “We have matters to discuss with his grace,” he told them. “Stay out of things until they are clear.”
One guard was bleeding from his nose, and he pointed accusingly at Guilbert. “The sheriff’s man attacked us, your grace! He took us by surprise.”
“Only because of the threat on your life, my liege,” said Guilbert, pointing to the hearthstones. “What was hidden in this man’s sleeve?”
Prince John’s face got even redder. “Are there conspirators all around me?”
“It’s nothing, my lord,” groveled the physician. “A harmless sedative, most efficacious, but very expensive, so I hide it in my sleeve in case of robbers.”
The sheriff entered, flanked by two of his own guards and looking as panicked as he was angry and bewildered. The prince turned, the heavy hem of his robe flaring. “What’s the meaning of this?” he demanded of the sheriff.
“Traitors, Your Highness. Treason and deceit—” He nearly fell over himself with excuses. Then he saw me and froze, realization creeping glacially over his features. “How…?” Spotting Guilbert, he demanded, “Did you let this creature out of the dungeon? Guards!” he said to his own men. “Seize them both. And the Templar, too.”
“Stop!” yelled the prince, then pointed at his own guards. “You! Seize the sheriff’s men! Seize everyone or I’ll have all your heads on spikes!”
No one wanted their head on a spike, so everyone pointed a weapon at someone else, seemingly at random, in a kind of medieval standoff.
As the one with the projectile weapon, I had the advantage. I picked the sheriff. At this distance I could skewer him with half a draw and no aim. Into the quiet of the stalemate, I told him, “Send your men out to make sure no one else comes near.”
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