Cloaked

by Taylor Hobbs

  “Halt,” Robin’s voice rang through the camp loud and clear. “We have you surrounded.” His voice was steady and proud, and it would have convinced Charlotte that he was telling the truth, had she not already known there were only five other men with him. “State your name and your purpose.”

  “Robin?” a voice asked in disbelief.

  “William?”

  “Brother, what are you doing here? We are on the way to meet you in the city as we planned.”

  Robin sighed. “Well, your scout team need go no further. We are all here. What’s left of us, anyway.”

  Charlotte heard the two men approach each other, then their voices dropped to a whisper. Reaching down, she shook Henry awake and waited to see what Robin would do.

  The rebel leader walked back to the middle of camp with three strange men trailing behind him. “Everybody up,” he barked. Once the men circled around him, he turned their attention to the newcomers. “William has brought word to us from Algonia.” Robin nodded at his companion to proceed.

  “Revolutionaries of Algonia, I am here to tell you our faction received word that Stefan’s rescue was a success.” A quiet cheer went up among the crowd, and Charlotte breathed a sigh of relief. Fawkes had done the impossible by swiping an instrumental revolutionary man out from under the king’s castle. “As such, Stefan has also provided our men in Numencaster with the necessary information to proceed with our attack. Although I am very sorry to hear of your run in with Duke Belaq, I must urge you to push your discomforts aside. Now is the time for us to act. I, along with our brilliant leader, Robin, will lead you to my farm, where the rest of our forces are waiting. From there, we will journey together to cross the border into Algonia and launch a two-pronged assault.”

  The men surrounding Charlotte clapped each other on the back, grinning ear to ear. Robin looked both pleased and relieved to see morale lifted, but Charlotte wore a thoughtful frown. Just what sort of attack were they planning? Even if William’s forces matched Robin’s, they would still be woefully outnumbered by the king’s army. Not to mention the wrath of a very pissed off duke once he had healed. Charlotte couldn’t think of any actual way that they would be able to emerge victorious, much less unscathed.

  Robin stepped in. “Get some rest, men. We leave at first light.” As everyone settled back in, Charlotte pretended to walk further into the forest to urinate. Her crashing footsteps halted once she was out of sight of the men, and she doubled back with lithe, silent steps. She concealed herself behind a tree close enough to hear the continuing private conversation between Robin and William.

  “And Stefan kept the rest of the powder well hidden?” Robin asked.

  “Almost everything is in place,” William reassured him. “But there is one small issue. A rumor, really.” He hesitated, as if embarrassed to go on. “Stefan was in deplorable condition when he was rescued. Babbling a lot of nonsense. He kept talking about a woman who was brought down to question him from time to time. He claimed…he claimed she has the gift of second sight; that she is the king’s seer. Stefan thinks she is why so many of our undercover agents have been captured in the recent years.”

  “Hallucinations from the trauma, most likely,” Robin said, brushing off William’s story. “I’ve never had any other agent report these rumors to me. If she is truly as powerful as Stefan believes, then many others throughout the kingdom would have heard about her by now.”

  Meanwhile, Charlotte’s mind was reeling. She thought back to what Fawkes had mentioned about his beloved wife, Josephine, and her many talents. And although the second sight was a rare gift, Stefan had to be talking about a different woman. It was impossible that Fawkes’ wife would still be alive after all these years. Did Stefan tell Fawkes about the mysterious woman when he was rescued? Charlotte hoped not. The ramblings would only serve to hurt Fawkes and remind him of his painful history.

  William sighed. “We are lucky that Stefan even returned to us at all, with almost all of his mental facilities intact. The ones we need, anyway.”

  “What did you hear of his rescue?”

  “The Cloaked Shadow took an arrow to the shoulder as they fled the castle grounds. He and Stefan got away, but barely. The guards sounded the alarm and were out in full force, rendering the Cloaked Shadow and Stefan late to the rendezvous point. We had almost given up hope that they were coming. The Cloaked Shadow didn’t let on that he was in pain, but we could see the broken arrow sticking out of his back when he handed Stefan over to us. Guess that solves the mystery of whether or not the cloak is as strong as armor, eh?”

  Charlotte’s heart clenched. Fawkes was out there alone and injured. It sounded like he was in no shape to come riding back into her life any time soon. But he was alive, the last time anyone saw him. That would have to be enough for now.

  Chapter Twelve

  Robin and William rallied the group at dawn, with Charlotte bringing up the rear for another long trudge to the farm. After a few days of promised rest and a resupply of food, horses, and weapons, the rebel army would make for Algonia. The plan was to ultimately meet near Numencaster where Stefan and the other agents would be waiting.

  Charlotte wanted to question the men around her and find out all she could about the planned attack, but she couldn’t risk drawing Robin’s attention again. He seemed to have forgotten about her overnight, and she intended to keep it that way. Also, try as she might, it was hard to have thoughts other than worrying about Fawkes. She was so distracted that she didn’t even notice when Henry slowed his march to fall in line next to her.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him open his mouth as if to say something, then change his mind as he shut it with a clack. She knew why he was struggling, because she was fighting the same internal battle. Words were on the tip of her tongue; she didn’t know whether it was to apologize to him or to lecture him. The boy who walked beside her felt like a stranger. How long would it take before she could reconcile the memory of her feral brother, reveling in blood lust, with the gentle soul she had grown up with?

  From Henry’s point of view, Charlotte was a liar. Not only had she deceived him with their mother’s death, but also denied her relationship with Fawkes. She gave him no reason to trust her of late. The siblings both felt the gap between them, how things had changed, but at the moment, neither one of them was strong enough to reach out and bridge it.

  After a few more moments, Henry moved up toward the front of the line, leaving Charlotte behind. The relief she felt when he left frightened her. He was on his own chosen path now, and nothing Charlotte could say would deter him from it.

  ****

  Robin pushed the rebels as far as they could go, but it wasn’t enough to reach William’s farm by the time twilight fell. It didn’t matter to Charlotte though, who almost cried with relief when they had stopped to camp by a small stream. After two days of sewage stink on her skin, Charlotte was beginning to feel more like a rat and less like a person.

  William left them with promises that he would be back before dawn and set off for his home on horseback. She expected that he would return under the cover of darkness with more men and a plan for how to proceed. Until another meeting was called, she decided that her presence would not be missed, and sprinted upstream and out of sight.

  Humming with delight, she threw caution to the wind and jumped into the water, clothes and all. Once she drenched herself, she disrobed piece by piece and began scrubbing her clothes in the stream. She watched the filth run out of her garments until the water ran clear again. Without leaving the cool delight of the stream, she tossed her newly clean, soggy bundle up onto a boulder on the bank.

  Untangling the ribbon from her hair, she rinsed it off tenderly, and then clenched it between her teeth for safekeeping while she scrubbed her hair. Charlotte let the water envelop her completely, and she relaxed into its gentle hold. She didn’t mind when she felt the current begin to push her downstream, until her feet hit something solid.

&nb
sp; Panicked, she sat up sputtering, yanking the black fabric from her mouth. Wiping her vision clear, she realized she had run smack into the legs of a man who stood at the center of the stream. One of the rebels followed me! Charlotte thought and remembered her vulnerable position. Bedrock sliced her palms and heels as she scrambled backward. Charlotte put enough distance between them to look up and see his face.

  When her eyes met a blue gaze, she briefly wondered if maybe she had drowned and this was the afterlife. Struck dumb, she simply stared at him, each one waiting for the other to speak first. Charlotte searched her brain frantically for something to say. All those weeks imagining their reunion, and she hadn’t prepared for a scenario such as this. Weakly, she held up the hand that still clutched the piece of black cloak. “Did you come all the way back for this?” He looked at it with wide eyes and extended one finger out as if to stroke the fabric. His finger brushed her knuckle instead, sending a jolt through Charlotte’s body at the confirmation that he was, in fact, real.

  That broke the spell, and Fawkes seemed to finally realize that he had interrupted Charlotte’s bath. He immediately averted his gaze and waded toward her pile of clothes. Sloshing back to her, he extended the bundle to her without a word and turned around.

  Charlotte yanked her tunic over her head, and then tried not to fall over as she pulled on the britches over her wet legs. The fabric clung to her like a second skin. Tying her hair back once more as a final touch, Charlotte was ready to confront him.

  The impulse to yell at him died as she stared at the back of his tall frame. His head was bowed, blond hair dark with sweat on the nape of his neck. His left hand moved to his right arm before falling back to his side, as if he was going to cradle an injury, but the contact would hurt too much.

  “You’re alive,” she said. At her words, Fawkes turned slowly around to face her.

  “Did you expect anything less?” He raised an eyebrow.

  “I heard it was close.” Charlotte struggled to keep her voice level.

  Fawkes rotated his right arm and winced. “Still in one piece. Relatively.”

  “And you came back. You found me.”

  He didn’t answer right away and waded toward shore. Charlotte followed and felt better once she was on solid ground. As the shock of seeing him dissipated, her mind cleared, and she remembered why she was angry at him. “Yes. And I think I need to start charging more for my services,” he finally said.

  That’s it? No mention of leaving without a goodbye, or our kiss, or the fact that my so-called ‘new life’ in Croantis was a disaster? Charlotte would have been better off staying in Algonia, seeing that a normal life was forever out of her reach. He had come all the way back to collect his precious payment from Robin, not to see her.

  But if that is the case, her hopeful internal dialogue whispered, why did he come to you first? “Why are you here?” she blurted out.

  A look of confusion flashed across his face. “Well, my contract with Robin has been completed—”

  “Sod your contract!” Red anger flushed her face as she glared at him, hands on her hips. “Do you have any idea what these past weeks have been like? With the rebels, and Henry, and worrying about you… Why did you do it?”

  Fawkes didn’t have to ask what she meant. Why did you leave me without an explanation? That was the real question. He took a step forward so she was within arm’s reach. “I’m sorry,” he said, barely above a whisper. Rough fingers reached out to brush a wet tendril of hair off her forehead, and that simple touch broke her.

  She flung her arms around his waist, buried her face in his chest, and sobbed. Charlotte finally let herself feel everything she had been repressing since her arrival in Croantis. Fawkes’ disappearance, her reunion with Henry, the confrontation with Belaq, Robin’s endless suspicions, her deteriorating relationship with her brother, even the memory of her mother—all of it bubbled to the surface.

  Fawkes stood there stiffly at first, as if afraid to touch her, but soon comforting hands rubbed circles on her back as he made soothing noises in his chest. Charlotte sniffed and clung to him as her tears subsided, breathing returning to a regular rhythm. A kiss brushed across her forehead, and she felt her strength return. As she stepped back to tell him all that had happened, Fawkes suddenly threw up his hood, becoming the Cloaked Shadow in an instant. Any sign of Fawkes and his vulnerability disappeared. A second later, Henry emerged from the trees.

  “Charlotte,” he said. “Robin is looking for you.” It was then he saw his sister was not alone, and swallowed audibly at the sight of her companion. “I’m sure your presence will be appreciated too, sir,” he said, addressing Fawkes’ looming form.

  Henry’s steps jerked awkwardly as he made his way back to camp, not turning around to see if his sister and the Cloaked Shadow were still following him. He entered the small clearing while staring down at his feet and made his way next to Robin. Charlotte looked to Robin’s other side and noticed that William had returned during her absence.

  “You have done us a great service,” Robin said, addressing the Cloaked Shadow. The leader did not seem to be surprised at Fawkes’ appearance, nor did he question Charlotte’s arrival with him. Seeing the two of them together only solidified whatever suspicions he held from before, and he simply smiled at the pair. Twilight had faded, and now only the silvery light of the moon illuminated their surroundings in an ethereal glow. “The revolution thanks you.”

  The Cloaked Shadow stepped forward into the center of their circle. “I did not do it for the revolution,” he said, voice raspy. “You still owe me fifty gold pieces. And an extra five for injuries incurred.”

  Robin shifted his weight from side to side, glancing over at William for support. “Since you have found us here instead of in the city, you must have an idea of the unfortunate circumstances that have befallen us.” Fawkes crossed his arms and waited for the leader to continue. Robin’s voice rose to an uncomfortable pitch. “As it stands, we cannot afford to pay you at the moment.”

  “Those were not the terms. You either pay me or you will come to regret it immensely.” Charlotte didn’t know what he meant by ‘regret it immensely’, and she had no desire to find out. One did not just back out of a deal with the Cloaked Shadow and walk away unscathed. With a predatory slink, he took three steps toward Robin.

  Pure panic overtook Robin’s face. “I know who you are!” he shrieked.

  That stopped the Cloaked Shadow dead in his tracks. “I know who you are,” Robin said again, this time at a lower register. Charlotte saw William’s head whip back and forth between the two of them, presumably wondering why his partner had kept such an enormous secret from him.

  Robin’s next word was so quiet that Charlotte could barely hear it whispered. “Fawkes,” he said.

  The Cloaked Shadow remained rooted in place. William looked confused. “Fawkes?” he echoed. “Stefan said the woman from the castle often screamed that name. But I never said—”

  Everything crashed into place for Charlotte. It was Josephine. The woman in the king’s castle was Josie. In that split second, any hope for a future with Fawkes was ripped from her.

  “No!” she screamed, just as Fawkes was about to leap onto Robin. Fawkes didn’t know what William was talking about, but he knew that Robin had just revealed his true name in front of everyone. Only Charlotte had all the information to put the pieces together in that instant, and realize what it meant.

  Her outburst stalled Fawkes’ attack, and every pair of eyes in the camp turned to her. She would have to be the one to tell him that the love of his life was still alive. She took a deep breath and prepared to lose him. She loved him too much not to tell him, even though it would destroy her.

  Charlotte grabbed Fawkes’ wrist with both her hands. “I have to tell you something,” she said. “Come with me, now.”

  Fawkes jerked his arm from her grasp. “I have business here,” he told her. “Stay out of this.” His tone was icy. Charlotte realized
that he thought she gave away his identity. There was no one else who could have told Robin, because she was the only one who knew his real name.

  “I didn’t do it,” she begged him to listen. “I never told. It was an accident they found out, but—” Charlotte dropped to a whisper. “Josephine is alive.”

  That stopped Fawkes in his tracks, and he turned back to Charlotte. His fingers gripped her shoulders, squeezing until she felt her bones would break. “What did you say?” His voice was deadly calm; all traces of the heated emotions from moments ago were gone.

  “It’s true,” she whispered, solidifying her fate with Fawkes as the words tumbled from her lips. “Leave them alone for now; don’t let them find out. Come with me, and I’ll tell you what I know.” Charlotte held her breath, afraid that he wouldn’t believe her. The truth seemed outrageous, even to her. But whatever irrational hope her words had stirred in him, Fawkes’ hood bobbed once in acquiescence. Through his haze of anger, he still listened to her.

  The black cloak swirled magnificently as Fawkes rounded on Robin again. “Two weeks,” he warned. “I will collect my payment in two weeks. Otherwise, I needn’t remind you that the Cloaked Shadow is not the only wanted man in Algonia with a price on his head. I will get my gold one way or another. You choose.” Even in the moonlight, Charlotte could see the blush creep over Robin’s face. His plan to blackmail Fawkes had gone over as well as could be expected. To make an enemy of the Cloaked Shadow was to spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder, waiting for him to find you. She did not envy the rebel.

  Charlotte expected Fawkes to compound on his threats, but he left it at that and fled up the trail. Charlotte spared one last glance around the circle, meeting Henry’s eyes briefly before he looked away, and then sprinted after her mentor.

  She ran until she stood again on the familiar bank, her small feet overlaying Fawkes’ dried boot prints in the mud from an hour before. The young woman cocked her head, listening. The familiar thunder of hooves set her heart alight, even through the circumstances. It sounded like coming home.