The Vengeful Robin

by Erica Andrews

  I shook my head, cutting her off. "No. I would never let something happen to Lily."

  A smile graced her exotic features at the sternness of my words. "I know, Robin. I know, but don't you see? I want to be that for her. I want to make sure she's taken care of."

  And that was the kicker. I did know. So how could I say no?

  I couldn't.

  I could teach her a different way. Different than I was. Maybe a new tactic that didn't involve so much anger, fear, and yelling…

  Ideas began to form in my head, and excitement rushed through me. Maybe this was my chance to teach someone and make up for the things I should have taught my sisters.

  With determination and renewed vigor, I pushed my feet off the table. "Okay, fine, I'll teach you."

  Exuberant, she vaulted into the air, hitting her head on one of the wooden poles of the tent before crouching and rubbing her head.

  Now that was the Jamie I knew and loved. But it wouldn't be fair if I didn't caution her, even if it was to prepare her. "You have to know it's not easy, especially with your size. I won't take it easy on you, but you have things working against you besides your stature. The swords are heavy and the men are strong. But if you really want to, then I think we can do this."

  She nodded while continuing to rub her head. "Oh, I know. And I'm ready."

  I laughed and pushed her toward the door. "All right, we'll talk about starting when I get a few things cleared up. For now, go back to Lily."

  She opened the tent flap, the light outside telling me we had talked longer than I thought. Peering back at me, Jamie said, "Thanks, Robin. I mean for everything."

  Not knowing what to say, I waved her away. The last thing I wanted to do was cry and show her how much it meant to hear her say that. I cleared my throat. "Now go. I have things to do so we can start those lessons."

  With a small smile that spoke of understanding, she left, and I started to do what I did best.

  I plotted.

  7

  King John

  * * *

  "Get up! Fetch me some wine!"

  The slap across the girl's ass mixed with the lilt of my voice caused the little thing to jump from the rumpled sheets and collect her clothes swiftly.

  Being king had its advantages.

  Of course, it also had its disadvantages.

  Like my niece.

  After I had my brother assassinated, the general was supposed to take care of my nieces, but instead, he played with them… for hours.

  He understood that as long as they were out of my sight, I could care less about what happened to them, and he handled it perfectly.

  The younger ones had given up in the first hour, having become worn out. And the soldiers did their jobs disposing of them.

  But Robin?

  No, she lasted the longest. The soldiers still talked of her screams of rage as they held her down.

  Which made me curious. I had to see if maybe she and I were cut from the same cloth. Perhaps she was closer to me than the rest… and I had to be sure.

  The dungeon became the only option.

  Until I had the results in my hand... at least.

  But people like Cutler and his team became lazy, and a simpleton had left her unattended.

  Now questions I wanted answered had to be put on hold.

  But such was the dramatics of high society.

  Everyone needing something brushed under the rug… including me.

  Which was why me taking the crown had been so easy.

  Money falling through the cracks, girls becoming lost… everyone had their vices.

  Especially my peers.

  The young girl's breasts swayed. Nubile and untried, not like the older maidens I was forced to spend time with.

  She stayed hunched, running around the room in an effort to cover herself.

  I had just seen everything and done what I wanted to her.

  Yet she acted like an innocent when we both knew I deflowered that hours ago.

  She was mine.

  She knew it. And the fact she thought she could take something from me that I owned... that I won fair and square… it angered me.

  Just because I fucked you, didn't make you remarkable. It made you useable.

  And this young girl needed to be reminded… again.

  "Drop your arms! Quit acting like some doe-eyed virgin. That ship sailed hours ago."

  Her arms dropped rigid to her side, and I stirred at the look of fear in her eyes. Not many understood and cared to explore the concept that fear could be used as an aphrodisiac.

  And when you mixed fear and pain…

  Her lip trembled the longer I stared, causing my erection to grow harder.

  Noble ladies weren't like this. They didn’t care if they rutted with thousands of men or women, as long as they got what they wanted and some semblance of secrecy remained intact. They weren't afraid to endure a little pain, to gain something in return.

  I had figured that out a long time ago.

  It was boring. It was predictable.

  A lone tear cascaded down her cheek, and her body began to tremble.

  Yes... I liked this one.

  I pushed back the bed covers, forgetting the wine and instead ready to seek my relief from the sudden torture of wanting the very thing in front of me.

  The rap of knuckles against the door pulled me from my plan and distracted me long enough for the young sliver of a girl to scurry to the next room like a mouse, to hide and cover.

  Stupid, naive girl.

  I liked playing hide and seek.

  When the knock sounded again, a release of air escaped from my lips as I fell back upon the bed, before yelling, "Come in and hurry the fuck up. I've got business."

  The general popped into my sanctuary, his head already glistening from his bout up the stairs. Oh, how I loathed this measly man. If he weren't a genius with military planning, I would have killed him long ago and replaced him with someone… anyone else. But the blubbered whale had a brain behind the fat around his face. If only he weren't lazy.

  Not bothering to cover up, I lay there, legs spread, watching him as he eyed my jewels. Everyone knew the general swung both ways.

  Everyone except for him.

  Denial was a powerful drug. And I learned young, sex and rejection of oneself could be used against you.

  Everyone had a price, and I knew what the general was willing to pay.

  Early on, I figured out how to work the system of the rich and powerful, but not let it work me. My father was an apt teacher. Of course, my brother didn't want to learn, but I ate up everything Father said. At court, secrets were a person's enemy, he said. They could be used against you, he said.

  Which was why I needed to see Robin.

  I always kept things out in the open, where I could see them.

  Just like my trade for the girls and taxes. I never hid it. Anyone who wanted one of the beauties knew where to look.

  But just because I said not to be in denial, it didn't mean to be stupid.

  Ask the right questions, be vague, and forever play the game of the people around you.

  It's what I lived by.

  I acknowledged that pleasure could be taken from anyone. Answers could be twisted, and questions could be turned.

  Tired of him staring at my hardening dick, lest he thought it was for him, I cleared my throat. "Is there a reason you are interrupting my time, Cutler?"

  Cutler swallowed nervously, the rows of skin upon his forehead gathering sweat. He sickened me. "My lord, the recruit Smite."

  He licked his cracked lips, and I looked away, lest I lose my erection. I planned on using it later. That girl was still hiding, and I had plans to play her game.

  "He won't talk, Your Highness. We've beaten and tortured him, but he won't tell us anything about your niece."

  I turned back to look at him, his beady eyes widening as I narrowed mine. I hated to be reminded of my relation to that whore. She was proving
more difficult than I had given her credit for. Of course, if she was who and what I thought she was…

  Cutler quickly paled, misunderstanding the anger on my face, and spewed out words from his mouth as he continued to wipe his brow nervously. "I meant the traitor Robin. He won't say anything about Robin."

  More and more, I wished I had killed her. But then I wouldn't have the opportunity at hand.

  There was also the small problem of her following. No matter how you looked at it, my traitorous niece inspired loyalty. And now, if I outright killed her, an uprising would start. I had to handle this delicately.

  Which I would… it just took time. Time I didn't have, as the other upper-class people were asking questions I didn't want to answer.

  All of this coming at once was starting to sour my disposition.

  Standing up, I walked around, feeling the general’s eyes follow me and my bare ass.

  Even though he was a filthy, lazy prat, I loved the attention. He wanted me.

  At the same time, he could never have me.

  Stroking my beard, I ignored him as I stopped and sat back in my satin chair. Plans started to form. Legs spread wide, I sat forward. Was it ungentlemanly of me to sit naked in front of company?

  Cutler looked everywhere but at me as the medals on his shirt shook with each movement.

  I made him nervous.

  Good.

  "Try my wife. I know she played games with him a few years ago. She could possibly get a repeat performance and, in the process, find some information for us."

  His eyebrows arched over his small eyes, bringing attention to his receding hairline. "Your wife has dallied with Smite? Your Highness, how did you know?"

  I rolled my eyes.

  Did he think me a fool? For a war strategist, he was an idiot.

  My wife and I shared many of her little boys. The people in our close circles knew this because some of them had... individual proclivities as well. While it might not be their thing, untried boys and girls were a favorite for both of us.

  Standing up, I walked up to Cutler.

  Our bodies barely touched. The smell of his sweat reached my nostrils, and the bulge that pressed against his trousers showed me how he felt. Not able to help myself, I leaned closer, ignoring his stench, his hardened length rubbing against my leg. Though older than him, my body was still trim and fit. Unlike the general, I liked to maintain a statuesque figure people enjoyed looking at.

  And General Cutler enjoyed it. His length jumped as I innocently rubbed my leg back and forth against his rod. Bobbing up and down, I created friction, for the mere fact that teasing him gave me enjoyment. Making him beg made me ecstatic. With faster reflexes than I thought I had, I reached out, rumpling his shirt as I pressed my mouth against his ear, ripping a moan from his lips, and whispered, "Do you think I don't know who my wife fucks?"

  My bare chest against his, his uniform rubbed against my nipples, and I bit back a hiss.

  He wanted me.

  But I didn't want him.

  I wanted the girl. And she better be ready for me.

  When I gave a small bite of his ear, he sagged toward me.

  I continued, "Do you think, General, I stick my dick in just any whore?"

  I shoved him away as I backed up, enjoying the mixture of lust and shock on his face. With a smile, I lay back on the rumpled sheets, the smell of sex relaxing me.

  "Unlike you, General, I'm picky about who I fuck."

  I waved my hand toward the door, done with this conversation and instead ready for something else.

  "Now go, General. Find my wife and use her... vices for your own uses."

  He nodded.

  I loved seeing him in a subservient attitude.

  He walked to the door, but stopped when I spoke again. "And General, tell them to send Clarissa back in… I wasn't done yet."

  I changed my mind… why should a king have to play games when a servant can just win for you?

  He bowed his head and ducked out of the room without another word.

  I snuggled deeper into the bed and waited for my repeat performance of earlier.

  8

  Robin

  * * *

  “Faster, Jon! You're not moving fast enough.”

  Jon ducked the slash of my sword as I twisted and turned around him.

  After my talk with Jamie, and then sitting in my tent trying to come up with a plan, I ventured out to try to find the mysterious man who was working with the men earlier. He was the only one who could give me a fair fight. And right now, the urge to blow off steam was rising. Like a kettle ready to burst, my body was full of something, what, I didn't know, but release was what it yearned for. My mind worked best when it was being pushed. To have to think on my feet. I needed that fight if I was going to come up with a plan to save Smite and the girls. For the hundredth time that day I walked out to seek a worthy opponent.

  Instead, Jon had found me.

  And this time, he was Ava free.

  Before the dungeon, I would have blown off steam with Jon another way; long hours of sweat-laden bodies, hard breathing which ended when both of us got what we wanted.

  Almost close to what we were doing now. The difference was only one of us would win in this endeavor.

  And I wanted it to be me.

  Jon tucked and rolled as I arched my arm, pretending to stab him. For someone twice my size, he was moving very poorly. Though maybe his size was the hindrance. I always found being slightly smaller than my opponents seemed to benefit me instead of them. Jon, though, for as long as I’ve known him, never had to rely on his sword techniques in battle or to get what he wanted. His body, wit, and intelligence were usually enough to get him by.

  Like with Ava and the other girls at camp.

  And, for some reason I’d rather not explore, that pissed me off.

  With anger at the thought, I came down again with my sword, my body humming with adrenaline, only to have him evade me once again.

  “Jon, quit ducking and protect yourself.”

  Face red with exertion, he stared at me. “Just because I'm bigger than you, doesn't mean I can wield a sword.”

  I smirked, looking around.

  For the few minutes we had been fighting, it seemed we had slowly begun to garner a small crowd. Most, of course, were ladies I assumed had been at one time under the affections of Jon himself. Satisfaction thrummed through me as I grasped the opportunity to show them he wasn’t as perfect as they thought. Did that make me shallow?

  Possibly.

  Nobody could claim perfection, though. I wasn’t God.

  Turning back to Jon, I mumbled so only he could hear, “I think everyone knows now.”

  Usually I wasn’t one for crowds, but Jon had been getting under my skin lately. Mix in my confusion with Claius, Smite, the girls, my uncle... I was a dam about to burst.

  I needed an outlet, and Jon was it.

  Jon’s flushed face belied his breathing that was still, even as he narrowed his eyes at me, before looking at the fair amount of women who had gathered around. His eyes glancing over some of them familiarly… He did know some of them.

  His eyes cut to mine, twinkling with mirth as he spoke, “I usually use my other...” he smiled at the woman closest him, who blushed prettily, “talents to get what I want.”

  With a smirk on his face like he had won, he pressed the tip of his sword into the ground, caking it in mud. “Besides, expertise in certain areas helped you escape, didn't it?”

  I ground my teeth together, hurting my jaw.

  I hated I wasn’t able to save myself. And I hated even more exactly how he used his ‘talents’ to get me out. Jon, if anything, was very imaginative.

  With purpose, I took him in, standing there, proud and smiling. It irked me.

  Stealthy and on a mission, I walked slowly in a circle around Jon. More women were giving him the eye. Maybe even hoping for just one night with their fearless leader—at least the ones who hadn’t alre
ady had their one night. Jon was an equal opportunist when it came to his women, and even some men.

  Pity I wouldn’t be letting him have me again. He was quite good. Maybe I should give the other girls pointers.

  Behind him now, and without much thought to what I intended to do, I kicked him in the back of his knee. It gave out, causing him to bow.

  A small sense of satisfaction ran through me at seeing him fall.

  Coming to face him, his knee still pressed in the mud, I held my hand out to help him up. “I know you're new at this, but don't ever place your sword into the ground, and always watch your back.”

  With a long sigh, he none too gently slapped his hand into mine. As soon as he was up, I let go of the warm hand that so easily enveloped mine and pulled his sword from the muddy ground. With practiced ease, I wiped the metal against my shirt to remove the dirt before pointing it at Jon.

  His eyes widened as the tip fell mere inches from his face.

  “Always treat your sword as an extension of yourself.”

  His gaze ran down the length of the sword, before catching mine. “Yes, Princess.”

  When silence filled the void surrounding us, I dropped the sword to my side and minimized the distance between us. Toe to toe with him, I stared into his blue eyes. “It's not a game, Jon. We are going to have to fight, whether you like it or not. Maybe not today… but soon.”

  Disgust covered his face as he backed away from me. Whatever he was expecting from me, it hadn’t been that. “We don’t have to fight, Robin. You want to fight. Just admit it.”

  He was right. I did.

  Just not for the reasons he thought.

  I wanted to fight for the injustice that was done to the women, some who surrounded us now. I wanted to free the man who, when he could have taunted me and made me stay in the dungeon, chose instead to fight by my side. And my family—I wanted to somehow wipe the memory of the night they died from my mind. But Jon didn't want to know that. He only saw what he wanted to see.

  The crowd around us murmured, the whispers a slight roar to my ears. They had heard his words and clung to them. I could just imagine what they were saying. Some of them spoke loud enough where I didn't have to wonder.