Outplayed

by Hayley Osborn

  A laugh bubbled from Gisborne’s chest. He knew it, too. “This is the reason, brother. This is why you could never have been the Earl of Woodhurst. You can’t make the tough decisions. You’re too soft.”

  Rob’s arrow whistled as it flew through the air and buried in the flesh of Gisborne’s thigh.

  Gisborne screamed and struggled against the bindings Rob had made from his arrows.

  Rob caught my eye and nodded along the trail. “Let’s go. We’ll leave him for the animals.”

  Gisborne cursed us at the top of his voice.

  Rob ignored him and took my hand and walked me up the trail, away from Gisborne’s screams.

  Neither of us spoke as Rob guided me along the trail with his hand in mine. Once we made a turn that put us out of Gisborne’s view, he stopped and looked at me. The pain in his eyes shattered my heart. “Maryanne.” His voice wobbled but he held out an arm and I sank into his chest. “Are you all right?”

  Bruised, not broken. “Better for seeing you.” Now we were safe, the pain of my injuries came rushing back. My face was tight and swollen, and my head ached, my ribs ached. My entire body ached. “He would have killed me if you hadn’t turned up.” I’d seen the look in Gisborne’s eyes before I hit him with the rock. He wouldn’t have stopped this time. Tears pricked at my eyes. I refused to give in to them. I refused to let Gisborne have that sort of power over me.

  Rob shook his head. “You didn’t need me. That last blow with the rock disoriented him enough that you could have escaped. I just made sure he could never chase you.” He pulled back and his jaw tightened as he swept his eyes over my battered face. “You should have told him where to find me. I assume keeping quiet was the reason he gave you all those bruises?”

  “I was never going to tell him.” That had never been an option. He knew that.

  “I wish you had,” he whispered, running his fingers with extreme gentleness down the side of my face. “I hate seeing you hurt. When I look at you, I can imagine the kick that caused that bruise on your cheek, or the slap that made that cut below your eye, the punch that produced that mark on your neck. It makes me so furious.” His jaw tightened. “I wanted to keep you safe from him.”

  It was never going to be that easy. “It’s okay. We don’t have to worry about him anymore.” Not when we had blood loss, the elements and wild animals all working toward the outcome we wanted for Gisborne. “You could have killed him.”

  He let out a deep sigh and nodded.

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “Couldn’t do it. I wanted to, but…” He shook his head and I wasn’t sure if he was upset or disgusted with himself. “He looks so much like Mother, has her eyes. He reminded me of her.”

  “But last time, you did it.”

  “Last time, at the Big Tree, you weren’t safe. I stuck my sword in him so I could get to you. This time you were perfectly safe, so there was no need. And I found I lacked the will to do it.” He put his hand on my back, guiding me along the trail. “He will die, Maryanne. There’s no way he can free himself. It’s just not going to be me that lands the final blow.”

  He fell into silence and I couldn’t gauge his mood. “Do you wish you had killed him?”

  “No.” He sighed. “The place he took you, we used to call it Little Manor. I remember helping him up that rope ladder when he was barely old enough to walk. We battled so many imaginary enemies in that place. Together. This part of the forest is the one place I have some good memories of my family. Of him. I could never kill him here.” He met my eyes and I wondered if Gisborne had somehow known that would be the case.

  “Well, I might have some good news.”

  Rob smiled. “Yes?”

  “I haven’t had any dreams since I told you about them. Which is what I expected. The price for telling you about them was supposed to be my death.”

  His eyes widened. “What? Why would you do that?”

  “To keep you safe.” I shook my head. “I was supposed to die here, with Gisborne. When I hit him with the rock, the magic moved. Something feels different. I think it’s over. I’ve done enough to stop either of us dying.” The heavy weight I’d carried on my shoulders for weeks lifted.

  The dreams were gone.

  We were safe.

  We reached the clearing that had been my prison for two days to find Miller, Tuck and John there, each guarding three tied up and gagged soldiers. No wonder the camp was so silent as I escaped.

  “Where’s Eliza?” I asked, looking from soldier to soldier again just to make sure I hadn’t missed her.

  Tuck shook his head. “Not here.”

  “She is.” I ran to the closest shelter, threw aside the tarpaulin door and looked inside. Just sleeping mattresses spread across the floor. No people. Same in the next shelter.

  Rob stopped me on my way to the third, his hands on my shoulders. “She isn’t here, Maryanne.”

  I pulled out of his grip. “She is. Was.” I turned to the boys. “Are you certain?”

  Four heads nodded.

  “Then she’s…” I didn’t finish, already knowing where she was. I turned and sprinted up the trail we’d just come down, Rob’s footsteps close behind.

  My body ached each time my foot pounded into the dirt. I ignored it, desperate to get to Gisborne before Eliza. He was supposed to die. Slowly. He was no longer screaming, and that filled me with fear.

  I rounded the corner that should have brought me face-to-face with Gisborne and stopped dead. “He’s gone.”

  Rob came to a puffing halt half a step behind me.

  The broken ends of four arrows lay on the trail. The rest of their bloody shafts were still embedded in the tree. “She saved him.” My voice wobbled. We’d been so close. We should have killed him.

  “We didn’t even know she was here.” Rob shook his head. His face was bleak, hands buried in his hair.

  “We can search for them. They can’t have gone far.”

  Rob nodded, but neither of us expected to find them. Rob might have known this part of the forest well as a child, but Gisborne knew it well now.

  TWENTY-TWO

  “Put the wood down there in a pile,” I used my head to nod, my arms too full of my own wood to point. We hadn’t found Gisborne. By mutual unspoken agreement, we were all ignoring the fact that he was still alive when he should have been dead. We’d missed our chance to kill him, but apart from that, life was no different to what it had been. Except in one major way. Rob and Alan were living with us in the forest.

  “Here?” asked Alan.

  Everyone was pleased to have them with us. There was more spring in their step, more laughter in their talk. The boys started hunting again, all of them going out together. Which left me with time to get to know Alan.

  I nodded, dropping my pile, then bending to stack it nicely. Alan did the same.

  Getting firewood was the first thing Miller had taught Alan when he came to live with us. He seemed to enjoy the responsibility, and he loved to learn. I’d discovered we needed to show him correctly the first time or he would recall the wrong way of doing something easier than any way I tried to correct him. He was constantly surprising me. Rob had given him a lesson with a bow, which Alan had loved, but he was far more interested in how John cooked a meal for all of us. Last night, he’d helped with the cooking, too.

  “Do you like my brother?” Alan asked, as he set the fire.

  “Of course. He’s a wonderful person.” That was as vague an answer as I’d ever given. Rob and I needed to spend some time together, something we’d been slowly working up to in the days since I returned from Gisborne.

  “Yes, but do you like him? Are you his girlfriend?”

  I shook my head. “I’m not his girlfriend.”

  “Huh,” he said quietly. “You should be. He was worried for you when Gisborne took you, and I’ve never seen him that worried about anyone. And you’re nice. Not mean to me, like some people.�
��

  My head shot up. “Who’s mean to you, Alan?”

  He shrugged. “People, sometimes. They call me stupid. I don’t like it when they call me stupid.”

  “You shouldn’t,” I said, carefully. “Because you’re not.” He wasn’t. He just learned in a different way from the rest of us.

  He picked a stick out of my hand and put it back on the pile, deeming it too large to use to start the fire. “Sometimes when I can’t do things, like run fast or kick a ball hard, I think they might be right.”

  Something tightened in my chest. “You’re not stupid. Who says these things? Does Rob know?” I wanted to hurt the person who’d said it. I couldn’t imagine what Rob might do if he knew.

  Alan grinned. “He clipped a kid around the ear once when he heard him say it. Kid was ‘bout the same size as him, but he never called me stupid again.” His speech grew slurred as he got excited. It made me smile and reminded me in a way of Miller. Rob’s brothers, blood or not, were more similar than any of them realized.

  “Well, if anyone does, you tell me. Okay? Because no one should say things like that.”

  Alan nodded. “Are they really going to keep teaching me how to shoot a bow, so I’ll be the same as Rob?” He held his breath as he waited for my answer. We’d talked about it again this morning. John needed more practice, which gave Alan the perfect opportunity to learn. If he wanted to.

  “That depends,” I said. “Do you want to keep learning?” I hoped he did but had no idea if he’d be able to master it. He deserved the chance to learn the way both his younger brothers had.

  He nodded so hard his hair escaped the tie and fell across his face.

  “Good.” I stood up and brushed off my hands. Alan did the same. “Do you know what?”

  He shook his head.

  “You’re nice, too.”

  Alan beamed and pulled something out of his pocket. He held it out to me. “I found this for you.”

  It was an early spring wildflower, slightly crushed, but the sentiment remained. “Thank you, Alan. It’s beautiful.” I threaded it through my hair. “Did you know we’re going to a party tomorrow night?” It seemed like so long ago since the invitation had come, but it had only been a week.

  “A party? Here?” He looked around the tiny campsite. We’d moved back to Kings Cave, and it certainly wasn’t big enough for a party.

  I shook my head. “No. We’ve been invited to a party for St Valentine’s Day at the village of Huxley.” I didn’t know what to expect from a Valentine’s Day party, apart from dancing—according to John, there would be plenty of dancing.

  Rob and John crested the hill beside the cave and Alan got to his feet, eyes on his brother. “Huxley. That’s where the waterfall slide is, right? The one you told me about last summer?”

  “You’ve got a good memory,” smiled Rob, looking between the two of us.

  “That’s because it sounded fun. Can we go there? After the party? Or before?”

  “It’s winter.” Rob said it as if that explained everything.

  “Almost spring,” argued Alan. “Have you been, Maryanne?”

  I shook my head. “I’ve never been nor ever heard about this waterfall slide.”

  “It was just a place we found last summer—”

  “And it was so much fun!” Miller said, coming up the hill, a pheasant in his hand.

  “So, you’ll take me?” Alan asked.

  “I don’t know.” Rob hesitated.

  “Maybe we could go. Just to look at it, the day after the party.” What harm was there? If Alan wanted to see it and we were so close.

  “Yes! Let’s!” said Alan.

  Rob sighed. “All right. I’ll take you both. After the party.”

  The boys were more excited than I realized. They spent the day getting ready; bathing in the river, washing their clothes, and slicking back their hair. John even made some rabbit stew to give our hosts. I had a surprise to share tonight, plus I could get dressed up, so I was looking forward to the party as much as anyone. Before I left home, I’d packed the dress the Sheriff had given me the first time I came to the twelfth century. I’d carted it around each time we moved camp. And finally tonight, I had a reason to wear it.

  When we were almost at Huxley, I stopped, feigning a problem with my boot. I sat on a log at the edge of the trail and unlaced it, pulling the boot off and emptying out a non-existent stone. As I retied my laces, Rob drew his sword, slowly and quietly. I put a hand on his arm and stepped in front of him.

  “Maryanne,” he whispered. “Get out of the way. There’s someone out there.”

  I shook my head and held up my hand as the others drew their swords. “It’s okay.”

  The trees beside us rustled and out stepped Josephine and her little boy, Luke. I smiled at John. “Happy birthday.”

  John dropped his staff on the ground. “Jo. What the…?” He wrapped his arms around his sister, lifting her off the ground, closing his eyes tight as they hugged. “You shouldn’t be out here alone,” he said, pulling away.

  “We were careful. Anyway, isn’t a big sister allowed to wish her brother a happy birthday?” Jo’s smile was huge. She had the same brown hair as John. Normally, strands fell loose from her hair clips, but tonight, like the rest of us, she’d spent time on her appearance, and her hair was pulled neatly to the back of her neck. Her dress was simple, navy blue in color, and her cheeks were pink with excitement.

  “You look beautiful.” John beamed and I wondered how long it had been since he’d heard her call him her brother. At least four years, I guessed. “You did this?” He looked at me.

  “You said you missed her. That you wanted to spend some time with her and Luke. Tonight seemed like a good opportunity. She’s coming to Huxley with us. The three of you have all evening to get to know each other again.”

  He strode over and wrapped his arms around me. “This is about the best present anyone’s ever given me. How can I ever thank you?” he whispered.

  “By getting to know your nephew. Then telling me about him at every chance you get.” Because that was the real kicker about being far from the people you loved, not having anyone to share your memories with.

  “Deal,” he said. He put one arm around Jo, picked up Luke and started up the trail toward Huxley, a spring in his step.

  Rob sidled up beside me. “You know you’ve screwed things up for the rest of us, right?” His eyes danced when he looked my way.

  “Really? And how’s that?”

  “We’re never going to be able to give him a birthday present better than this one, no matter how many years we try.”

  I laughed. “Just don’t go getting any ideas. There’s no way I’m inviting your younger brother to spend your birthday with us. Unless you have any other brothers tucked away that I don’t know about?” It was possible. He’d kept Alan secret for a long time.

  He shook his head. “No. Just the two.”

  “Thank goodness. I don’t think I could cope with any more.”

  He laughed softly, watching John and Josephine ahead of us on the trail.

  He seemed quiet and I wondered if he was worried for their safety. “John and Jo don’t have to come to Huxley tonight. I just thought it would be safer if we’re all together. I also wanted her to be with us when we arrived. Better that the people of Huxley don’t know she’s come from another village. Don’t want anyone to tell Gisborne.”

  “You’ve thought it all out, haven’t you?”

  “I tried.” I just wanted John to have a good birthday. And to spend it with the family he seemed to miss so much.

  “I don’t even know how you managed this.” He shook his head like it was beyond his comprehension.

  “Woke up one morning last week feeling like I needed to change the world. Or at least, change my part of the world. Went to Clipstone, talked to Jo. Then found you and asked you to come home.” Then told him about the dreams and spent tw
o nights at Gisborne’s camp for my troubles.

  He laughed. “I don’t recall much asking happening that day.”

  I pushed past him, glancing over my shoulder. “That’s because you listen better when I tell you what to do than when I ask nicely.” I continued up the trail with a smile on my lips.

  His reply drifted quietly to me. “I know. And that’s exactly why I like you so much.”

  It was just on dark when we arrived in Huxley and the party was already beginning. Music filled the air as we walked down the rutted street that ran the length of the village toward the glowing field where a bonfire roared. Flaming torches marked the pathway down to the field.

  Elton and his mother, Hannah, met us beside the first torch, smiles on their faces today rather than terror. Hannah hugged Rob, then me, and thanked us again and again for saving her son’s hand.

  She pointed us toward tables piled with food; pheasant and duck, carrots, parsnips, potatoes, bread and some green thing I couldn’t identify. And pork roasting on a spit. I’d never tasted anything so good. “I thought the villages were struggling,” I whispered to Rob between mouthfuls.

  “They are.” He licked his fingers. “They’ve likely been hoarding food for months for this feast. And fattening up the pig.” He glanced at the area beside the fire where dancing had just begun. “Want to dance?”

  There were a range of instruments playing by the fire. When we arrived, three girls had danced a jig to a set of bagpipes. But they’d disappeared and someone else was now playing a violin so fast and with so much joy I could barely see his fingers on the strings. “The fiddler’s very good,” Rob added, as if that would help make up my mind.

  I shook my head. I wasn’t dancing. Couldn’t would be the more accurate term. Not the way they were dancing beside the bonfire, anyway. They had partners and set steps they all did at the same time. I was pretty sure the step-tap I used at school dances back home wasn’t going to cut it.

  Rob narrowed his eyes. “Scared, are we?”

  I shook my head. He’d talked me into something using this tactic before. It wasn’t happening today. “Totally. And it’s not something I’m going to get over in a hurry.”