“It’s absolutely beautiful,” she declared. “The prettiest cloak I’ve ever seen. But I can’t help but think I’ve seen this exact color somewhere.”
“The sky on a hazy day,” Robin said. “That’s what I thought of when I saw it. And I know you used to love hazy days when we were kids.”
“Oh, yeah,” Marian recalled. “Those moments before the rain clouds roll in. I can’t believe you remembered that.”
“I remember everything about you, Marian,” he said, and she felt her cheeks grow warm. “Alright, let’s get to camp!”
Robin broke into a jog and Marian jumped to her feet and followed him, taking great care not to snag her beautiful cloak on anything. Still, she couldn’t help thinking there was something else the color of her cloak reminded her of.
Robin gathered everyone once they arrived at the camp. He sat down, his eyes gleaming mischievously, his mouth curled into a grin. He pulled his ankle up to his knee and leaned his elbow on it, propping his chin in his hand.
“So I know how to kill the vampires,” Robin said, and a murmur arose.
“How?” Will asked.
“Father Clark said their only vulnerable spot is their heart,” Robin answered.
“They have hearts?” Will joked.
“These don’t,” John commented.
“Too right,” said Friar Tuck, normally a quiet fellow who blended seamlessly, unnoticeably, into the background, he now scowled at the mere thought of them.
“There are actually two ways to kill a vampire according to Father Clark,” Robin continued. “You can destroy their heart, or you can cut off their head. The tricky thing is that they’re fast—blazing fast. Cutting off their heads would be difficult. The safest thing would be to send an arrow straight through their hearts from a safe distance.”
“A mere arrow can down one of those things?” Will asked.
“So Father Clark says,” Robin confirmed. “He says the traditional weapon of choice against a vampire is wooden stake. Apparently wood is the only thing he knows of that is sure to destroy a vampire’s heart. But a wooden arrow should suffice.”
“Are you certain it will work?” Marian asked. “Because you may not get a second chance if it doesn’t.”
“Well, he also told me that draining them of enough blood will slow them down, and if their heart is damaged, it may also kill them, but that’s based on very old tales. He hasn’t heard of anything like that happening in centuries,” Robin said. “Perhaps the arrow would at least slow one down if it doesn’t kill it immediately.”
“Perhaps,” Marian commented.
“Marian, do you think you could lure Gisborne away from the castle?” Robin asked. “If we kill him first, it will be easier to get to Blackstock, since he won’t have his bodyguard with him anymore.”
“I suppose so,” Marian agreed. “But we’ll have to figure out a way to ensure no one knows he’s gone with me. If he goes missing...”
“We’ll make sure no blame can lie with you,” Robin interrupted her. “We can do it in a public place where witness will say you were beside him when it happened.”
“How about the festival next week?” Will suggested.
“Maybe, but Father Clark says they can’t go out in the sunlight,” Robin said. “It burns their skin badly. It would have to be after dusk.”
“How about the dance?” Will asked. “That doesn’t start until sunset.”
“Oh, that could work,” Robin mused.
“Just tell me what to do,” Marian said quickly.
“Look, you’ve been betrothed to him, correct?” Robin asked.
“Please, don’t remind me,” Marian said, her stomach churning.
“Tell him you’d like to talk to him about it,” Robin suggested. “Tell him the castle makes you uncomfortable and you’d rather discuss it elsewhere, then invite him to the dance.”
“I don’t know, Robin, this feels so...”
“Dishonest?” Robin finished her sentence. “Just remember, it is he who is dishonest.”
“And cruel,” added Will.
“Bloodthirsty,” John said.
“Pure… evil,” said Friar Tuck.
“I know, but...” Marian’s voice trailed off.
“Then it’s settled,” Robin said. “Get him to that dance. We’ll do the rest.”
Marian said nothing as the others chattered excitedly about their plans. She stared into the distance as the trees fell in and out of focus.
“I’d better get home,” she muttered.
“Alright, let’s go,” Robin said, grinning ear to ear.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Marian’s pulse rose as she watched him from across the courtyard. Gisborne stood near the guard tower talking with two of the guards, most likely giving them instructions. His eyes shifted in her direction and froze there. He stopped speaking. He quickly said something to the guards without averting his eyes from her, and then he strode toward her.
As he approached, she nearly gasped aloud. Those eyes. That’s where she’d seen that color. His eyes, as they pierced into her soul, were the same gray-blue as her cloak... the same gray-blue as the hazy skies she’d fancied so as a child.
Lantern light illuminated the courtyard, flickering cheerfully as she readied herself for the ultimate treason.
“Marian,” he commented. “I see you’ve a new cloak.”
“I... oh, yes... it was a gift, my Lord,” she said.
“From whom, might I ask?”
“F-from a friend... a dear friend from childhood,” she said quickly.
“I see. Well, it suits you,” he said.
“Thank you, my Lord,” she bowed politely. “Lord Gisborne, might I be so bold as to ask something of you?”
“Of course.”
“This... betrothal...”
“Yes?”
“Might we discuss it... somewhere away from this castle?” she whispered. “This place makes me rather... uncomfortable... as of late.”
“I understand completely,” he said. “Did you have somewhere in mind?”
Thump-thump, thump-thump... her heart pounded angrily in her chest.
“I...” she gulped. “I... was wondering if you would escort me to the dance on the night of the festival in the village.”
“Me?”
“Yes, my Lord,” she said, her eyes studying the ground intently. “Would you be so kind as to escort me? We can discuss the betrothal while we are there.”
He paused for a moment, silent and unmoving. For a moment, she wanted to take back the invitation. Then she saw the corner of his eye twitch.
“It would be my honor,” Gisborne said smoothly, bowing deeply and peering up into her eyes.
She quickly averted gaze from his.
“I will be at the festival all day on Saturday,” Marian said curtly. “The dance begins at dusk in the town square.”
“I will be there,” he promised.
“Thank you, my Lord,” Marian said. “I look forward to it.”
Marian noticed the sky’s shifting color as the sun began to rise closer to the horizon. Gisborne’s eyes followed hers.
“If you’ll excuse me, Marian, I’ve things to attend to,” he said.
“Yes, my Lord,” she nodded, and he disappeared quickly into the castle.
Marian found Mirabelle in the kitchen barking orders as usual.
“Marian, did you hear?” Mirabelle asked upon spotting her. “The mysterious stranger was in town again last night. I heard he brought baskets of food to more people and even left clothing and toys for some of the children in the village!”
“Really? Does anyone have any idea who it might be?” Marian asked.
“Not a clue. Only a couple of people have claimed to see him, and he’s always hidden under a cloak,” Mirabelle said.
“It’s so strange,” Marian whispered. “Who around these parts can afford such gifts?”
“None that I know of,” Mirabelle said. “Perhaps he�
��s from another village?”
“He must be,” Marian said.
“Well, you’d better get to work so you can go home and prepare for the festival. You are going, I assume.”
“Oh, yes. I’ll be there. Lord Gisborne is escorting me to the dance.”
Mirabelle’s eyes turned as round as saucers, and nearly as large.
“So this betrothal is really happening.”
“So it would appear,” Marian said. “I’ll be going, now.”
Marian left Mirabelle standing slack jawed and silent. She rushed through her chores and made her way home as rapidly as possible. Robin met her at the tree line at dusk.
“It’s done,” Marian said.
“He’s coming?”
She nodded.
“Brilliant!” Robin said. “Let’s go!”
Robin took off at a jog. Marian sighed and followed him. It was no time at all before they arrived at the camp. Robin let out a whoop.
“She’s done it!” he cheered, his fist pumping the air.
A cheer rose from the others, and they threw their fists up high in return.
“Say, did you hear what they’re calling Robin these days?” asked Will, leaning over toward Marian, who sat like a great lump sagging on her stump.
“No.”
“They’re calling him Robin Hood. Catchy, isn’t it?”
“Not particularly,” Marian said flatly.
“Hmm. Well, I thought it was,” Will said. “I mean, he’s a hood, and he wears a hood! It’s bloody brilliant!”
Marian rolled her eyes. Normally, Will’s joking amused her, but this evening it was annoying. She felt… icky. Icky and disgusting. She knew it was something that must be done, but it did little to quell the feelings of guilt that rose in her throat and threatened to choke her. She plopped onto a log, her legs suddenly trembling.
“Are you alright, Marian?” Robin asked.
She’d been staring off into the distance wordlessly, and his voice startled her. She peered through him as if he scarcely existed and then nodded faintly.
“Marian,” he said, shaking her by the shoulders. “Are you alright?”
“Huh?” she muttered. “Yes. Yes, I’m fine.” She shrugged his grip from her shoulders and jumped to her feet.
Robin stood and tried to wrap his arm around her shoulders, but she ducked away from him and took several steps to distance herself from him. He stared at her for several moments and then shook his head.
“Whatever’s gotten into you, I hope you work through it before the dance,” Robin said.
Marian said nothing, but her stomach began to growl painfully at the scent of roasting meat on the spit. Her eyes turned to it longingly, but she refused to eat it. She simply couldn’t force herself to enjoy food when so many were still starving in the village.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Marian!” Mirabelle shouted the moment she entered the kitchen. “Hurry up, girl! There’s a lot to do!”
“Why, is something happening today?”
“Lord Blackstock has called for a meeting today in the courtyard. He says he has an announcement to make.”
Lord Blackstock stepped into the courtyard and stood in the shade of the castle. Two young boys held a canopy over his head, further shielding him from the sun’s harsh rays. He cleared his throat and a hush swept over the crowd.
“I have some news for you, good citizens,” Blackstock shouted. “As you may know, a thief broke into the castle some weeks ago and attempted to steal a large portion of your taxes. The thief was caught hiding, but escaped. However, I am proud to announce that as of the early hours this morning, the thief known as Robin Hood has been apprehended at his hideout in Sherwood Forest!”
A great shout of glee rose up in the crowd, and Marian swayed and grabbed Mirabelle’s sleeve to keep from tumbling to the ground.
“The Captain of my guards, Lord Gisborne, has further information for you all,” Blackstock said.
Gisborne ducked under the canopy to stand in the shade beside Lord Blackstock. He cleared his throat.
“Regretfully, there will be no public hanging, as Robin Hood was killed during an escape attempt this morning,” Gisborne announced. “Robin Hood... is dead!”
The road of the crowd was deafening, but Marian scarcely noticed. Her fingers clawed desperately as Mirabelle’s sleeve as she struggled to maintain her balance. A great hand rose from Marian’s stomach and clutched at her heart, squeezing it until the very life threatened to escape her.
“Lord, girl, what’s the matter with you?” Mirabelle asked. “You’re white as linen!”
“Robin...” Marian croaked.
“You know that scoundrel?” Mirabelle asked.
“I’m going to be sick!” Marian groaned.
Clasping her hand to her mouth, Marian dashed around the corner of the building and vomited against the wall. She leaned heavily against the rough stone and panted, her head spinning.
“Marian? Are you alright?” Mirabelle asked, standing behind her.
“Mirabelle, please...” Marian begged. “I have to go.”
“But we have to...” Mirabelle paused, staring down at Marian with pity. “Alright, go. I’ll handle things here.”
“Thank you!” Marian gasped, and she broke into a full run.
The faster she ran, the slower she seemed to move. Down the road in front of the castle, down the lane, up the hill behind the silvery lake, through the forest... she stumbled across a root near the creek and slammed into the ground, the wind temporarily knocked from her lungs.
She lay motionless on the damp forest floor briefly, struggling to catch her breath, and then she pulled herself to her feet and splashed, red-faced, across the water.
“Robin!” her shrill voice echoed through the forest. “Robin!”
She stood in their ring of logs and stumps and waited, but it seemed deserted. Breathless, she sank to her knees, her face red and streaked.
“Robin...” she whispered, her voice frail and weak.
“Somebody say my name?” Robin asked, his head ducking out from behind his tent flap.
“Robin!” she gasped, scrambling to her feet and dashing to him, throwing her arms around his neck.
“Whoa!” he chuckled. “What’s the occasion? And why aren’t you at work?”
“Robin, they... they said you were dead!”
“Well, clearly whoever ‘they’ are... are wrong,” he said.
“Robin,” she whispered. “Oh, Robin.”
She buried her face in his shoulder, breathing in his musky scent—the scent of the forest mingled with smoked meat and mushrooms. His scent was so familiar, so comforting.
“I thought...” she whispered.
“Hey...” Robin said gently, holding her close. “Hey, I’m fine.”
“They know you’re here,” Marian said suddenly.
“Who?”
“Blackstock... Gisborne... they said you were captured in Sherwood Forest.”
“That doesn’t mean anything, Marian. They could have been making it up. Clearly I’m not dead. It was all lies! They don’t know anything.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure, Robin,” Marian warned him. “Why would they say Sherwood Forest, specifically?”
“Maybe it was just a lucky guess,” Robin suggested. “If they knew where I was, I’d already be dead.”
“Hmm. I suppose you’re right,” Marian said. “But please be careful. You need to be on your guard.”
“Always am,” Robin said with a grin. “So... the festival is in two days. Are you ready?”
“More now than ever,” Marian glowered.
“Good. So let’s make some plans,” Robin said.
It was a long day. Will trained Marian a bit while Robin and the others made plans. She stayed there until well after dark, and Robin finally walked her back to the tree line.
“Robin,” Marian said, turning back to face him.
“Yeah?”
“Robin, w
hen I thought you were dead... I...”
She couldn’t finish the sentence. Her grief was still so raw it was nearly palpable.
The Secret of Gisborne: A BBW Shifter Paranormal Romance (House of Gisborne Book 1) Page 11