by N B Dixon
For several moments, they both stared at the lifeless body.
“That’s twice I’ve saved your hide today.” Robin’s voice shook. “What was that you were saying about not needing my help?”
Guy glared at him but seemed too shocked to move or speak.
There was a bitter taste in Robin’s mouth. He had killed something. Yes, it had been to save Guy, but he’d taken a life. He had never before used his bow to kill.
Dimly, he’d always known a day might come when he would take up a weapon for more than just training or messing around, but he hadn’t expected it to happen so soon.
Several riders burst onto the scene, including Lord Locksley, Raymond Warci and Sir Richard. As one, their eyes travelled over the dead wolf. Sir Richard bent to examine the arrow protruding from its neck. When he straightened, there was a serious expression on his face.
“Robin, did you do this?”
Robin nodded. For some reason, he could not look away from his father.
“Well done, lad.” Raymond Warci sounded thunderstruck. At any other time, Robin would have been pleased.
Lord Locksley also bent to examine the carcass. When he turned to Robin, his expression was more benevolent than Robin had ever seen.
“Your first kill. You should be proud. Take some of the animal’s blood and smear it on your forehead.”
Robin’s stomach gave a queasy jolt. “What?”
Lord Locksley’s smile faded. “Come, now. Such squeamishness is for women, not men. Would you shame yourself and me as well?”
Under the eyes of everyone watching, Robin saw he had no choice. He knelt beside the dead wolf and stared into its open eyes, glazed with death. Repressing a shudder of revulsion, he smeared some of the wolf’s blood on his forehead. It felt sticky against his skin.
He was relieved when the hunting party called an end to their sport. The ride back to Locksley Manor was a long one, and Robin took care to lag behind the rest. He was in no mood for more congratulations.
Guy rode behind his father, his own horse on a leading rein. He hadn’t so much as looked at Robin since the blood ceremony. Though he tried to squash it down, resentment gnawed at Robin. He had saved Guy’s life after all. He might at least have said thank you.
***
Back at Locksley Manor, Robin escaped from his admirers as soon as he could. He ran up to his room where, using a basin of water, he scrubbed at the blood on his forehead. He peered at his reflection in the looking glass. No matter how hard he scrubbed, he could still see the red smear like an accusation.
“Are you all right?”
Robin turned. He hadn’t heard Sir Richard enter the room.
“I’m fine.”
Robin felt Sir Richard’s hand on his shoulder.
“I’m sorry you had to go through that. You showed skill and courage today.”
“I didn’t think,” Robin admitted. “The wolf was going for Guy and I just acted.”
“That doesn’t matter. I’m proud of you.”
Robin let out a strangled laugh. Both his father and his tutor were proud of him. He couldn’t ever remember that happening before.
* * * * *
Chapter 5
Robin stared at the juggler without seeing him. He had been entertaining the hunting party for a good half hour, and everyone was in high spirits. Everyone that was, except Robin, and presumably Guy. Robin hadn’t seen a sign of him since the hunt.
Guy’s last words resounded in his head. I don’t need your help. Not now, not ever.
Guy had been increasingly moody since their adventure with the outlaws, and Robin was sick of bearing the brunt of it. It wasn’t his fault Guy was a lost cause. Guy had no right to take his failures out on him.
Robin raised a hand to his forehead. Though he had washed off the wolf’s blood, he still felt dirty. All in all, he was in a rotten mood and wished nothing more than to escape up to his bedchamber, or, better still, to Sherwood. Anything to get away from all this noise.
He was jerked out of his thoughts by Lady Gisborne.
“Congratulations on the hunt today, Robin.”
“Thank you, My Lady.” Robin’s voice was dull. He wished she would leave him alone. He didn’t feel like talking to anyone, let alone celebrating his part in the hunt.
“You saved my son’s life. We are all grateful.”
Robin bit back the answer that rose to his tongue. He could think of one person who wasn’t.
“Guy is upset. He feels inadequate and alone. He could do with company of his own age just now. Will you talk to him?”
“He doesn’t want to talk to me. We quarrelled,” Robin admitted.
“You were always a good friend to him, Robin. He might listen to you. He’s outside. Won’t you please speak to him?”
Robin suppressed a sigh. Clearly, she wasn’t going to drop it until he obeyed.
“Yes, My Lady.”
She smiled at him. “You’re a good boy.”
***
Guy listened to the sounds of merriment drifting out from Locksley Manor. All the while, anger and humiliation threatened to choke him.
No one had noticed him slip out. Why would they? Since when had anybody ever paid him any attention?
He was sure Robin was the idol of everyone, basking in their praise and probably boasting of how he had come to Guy’s rescue not once but twice. It wasn’t fair.
“What are you doing out here?”
Guy looked up. Robin was beside him. Guy hadn’t even heard him approach.
“I don’t feel much like celebrating.” He wished Robin would leave him be. Had he come to gloat? But Robin’s next words surprised him.
“Neither do I.”
Guy snorted. “Surely there are plenty of people who will want to hear all about how you killed the wolf.”
“Then they can ask my father. He can tell them all they need to know.”
Guy was even more puzzled. He would have expected Robin to be crowing over his triumph. Could it be he was squeamish? Something like contempt rose up in Guy.
“Your mother sent me to see if you were all right,” Robin said.
“Tell her I am well.”
“I wouldn’t be if I were you, not after how Charles and his friends acted. I caught a glimpse of him earlier.” Robin grinned. “His face was all covered in scratches.”
“He will pay.” Guy spat out the words. “I will make them all pay one day. They will know what it is to fear me, and they will show me proper respect. I’ll be the one with the power, and everyone will regret taking me for granted.”
Part of him knew it was dangerous to speak his innermost desires like this, but he didn’t care.
Robin was staring at him without a trace of a smile on his face. “You think fear and respect are the same thing?”
“Of course they are,” Guy snapped. “I will be Lord of Gisborne someday when my father is dead. People will fear my name, and then everyone will have to do as I say or pay the price. I won’t ever have to feel inferior again.”
Robin took a step back. He was looking at Guy as if he were a stranger. Guy felt a rush of fierce triumph. He had shaken that cocky confidence. He waited for Robin to say something, but he turned away without a word and went back inside.
***
“Our cousin Bryan is coming to stay,” Katrina announced.
It was a week after the hunting party and the hottest day of the year so far. Lady Gisborne had called at Locksley Manor to invite Robin to come with her and her children for a ride. Robin, grateful for any excuse to get outdoors, had agreed.
He’d expected his father to forbid it since it would take him away from his studies, but to his surprise, Lord Locksley had come along, too. It was most unlike him to abandon his work. He was a man of strict routine.
Sir Benedict had stayed home, but Sir Richard was present. He rode at the rear while Lord Locksley and Lady Gisborne rode in front. Robin, Guy, Katrina and a few attending servants were strung o
ut between them.
Robin turned to Katrina. “I never knew you had a cousin.”
“His mother, my aunt, is our mother’s younger sister. Bryan has not been to visit us since we were very young.”
“Why not?”
“His mother is a widow,” Guy said. “When her husband died, she closeted herself and Bryan away.”
“It is tragic,” Katrina sighed.
“It’s silly,” Guy countered. “After all, Bryan’s father was not rich. He will have no money or land to speak of. That’s probably why his mother wants him to stay with us, trying to beg favour from their richer relations.”
Robin bit his tongue. Neither he nor Guy had mentioned their discussion of that evening following the hunt. Guy’s passionate declaration of revenge had startled Robin at the time, but he had dismissed it, putting it down to temper. Still, he had noticed a change in Guy this past week and he didn’t like it.
Perhaps Katrina sensed his feelings, for she said, “Guy, that wasn’t nice.”
Guy’s face set in the habitual scowl he’d been wearing since the hunt, and there was an angry glitter in his eyes. More than once, Robin had resisted the temptation to punch the scowl off his face.
“What is he like, your cousin?” Robin asked, speaking to Katrina.
“It is so long since I last saw him, I don’t remember.”
“How long is he staying?”
“The term hasn’t been fixed,” Guy said. “His mother wishes him to spend time with companions his own age. Sir Richard has agreed to tutor him while he is here.”
“Then we must do something together,” Robin declared.
Guy looked wary at once. “What did you have in mind?”
“Why don’t we go to Locksley fair?”
Guy’s expression changed to one of scorn. “You want to take my cousin to a peasant fair?”
“Oh, for goodness sake, Guy, where’s the harm? There will be plenty of fun to be had. Don’t you want your cousin to have a good time while he is here?”
“I can think of better entertainment,” Guy muttered.
Robin ignored him. “When do you expect him?”
“On the morrow, all being well,” Katrina replied.
“The fair is in two days’ time.”
“And how do you expect to slip past Sir Richard?” Guy said with a glance back at their tutor’s strong, upright figure.
Robin smirked. “Leave that to me.”
***
Bryan duly arrived the following day. Sir Benedict held a welcome feast for him and the Locksleys were invited. It was Lady Gisborne who introduced Robin to her nephew.
“Robin, I am delighted to present my sister’s son, who will be staying with us for a while. Bryan, this is Robin of Locksley. His father owns the neighbouring estate. I will leave you to get acquainted.”
Robin studied Bryan. His first thought was that the boy was a more handsome version of Guy. Bryan had the sleek fair hair, blue eyes and stocky build that seemed to be a common family trait. But whereas Guy looked awkward in his body, Bryan was at ease. He was looking around him with evident curiosity. He smiled at Robin.
“I have heard a lot about you from my cousin Katrina. I understand you are good with a bow?”
“Good enough,” Robin said with a grin.
“Katrina says you helped Guy when some older boys were bothering him.”
Robin suppressed a wince, wondering what else in her enthusiasm Katrina had told her cousin. “I had surprise on my side. Do you like archery?”
“I never learned. I can handle a blade, though.”
“We shall have to have a spar.”
“I’d like that.”
Robin looked over at Guy, who, as usual, was sitting alone, looking as if he wished himself a million miles away.
“What do you make of your cousins?”
Bryan followed Robin’s gaze. “I hardly remember them. Guy is…I don’t think we have much in common.”
Robin laughed. “You mean you don’t like him? Come on, you can tell me.”
Bryan grinned a little reluctantly. “As I said, it has been a long time, but I don’t remember him being so…well…moody. I mean, he’s barely spoken two words to me. But Katrina has been kind.”
Robin looked over to where Katrina was imprisoned in a group of ladies that included her mother. She was sitting very prim and upright, as though riveted by their conversation, but Robin could tell from her slight fidgeting and the way her eyes wandered around the hall that she was bored.
“Are you betrothed?” Bryan asked.
Robin gaped at him. “What makes you think that?”
Bryan frowned. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude, but you are from neighbouring estates, and she talks about you a lot.”
Robin was flabbergasted. Such an idea had never occurred to him. A small trickle of dread settled in his stomach.
“No!” he said firmly, as much to reassure himself as Bryan. “We are not betrothed.”
***
Guy looked over to where Robin and Bryan were laughing and talking together, and his scowl deepened. He might have known it. Of course they would get along. Even Katrina had fallen all over herself like a fool the moment Bryan walked through the door. As far as Guy was concerned, Bryan was a boy with no prospect of a future, and not worthy of his attention, but the idea of other people fawning over him was irritating.
Guy watched Robin laughing at something Bryan had said, and his eyes narrowed. He didn’t know when he had begun to hate Robin. Maybe it was the night they were almost killed by outlaws. Or maybe it was the day of the hunt when Guy missed his shot and then was further humiliated by Robin coming to his rescue. The bubble of hatred seethed in the pit of his stomach, making him feel hot and restless. Someday, it would reach boiling point. Now he would have to attend this stupid fair, since he’d look like a spoilsport if he refused.
Guy got up, unable to sit there any longer, and left the hall. No one saw him go. Or so he thought.
“It’s rather lonely out here, don’t you think?”
Guy frowned up at his tutor. “I wish to be on my own. What is it to do with you?”
He expected to be chided for his rudeness, but Sir Richard just watched him. His expression was hard to read, and Guy shifted uncomfortably. He almost opened his mouth to apologise, but caught himself in time. What had he promised himself? No more grovelling to others—especially when he had done nothing wrong.
“I’m worried about you, Guy,” Sir Richard said. The words caught Guy off guard. “You haven’t been yourself since the hunt. Your parents have noticed. They’re concerned about you, too. So is Robin.”
“Robin only cares about showing off and being the centre of attention.”
“You do him an injustice. He may be over-confident at times, but he cares about you—I know he does. We all do, Guy. Won’t you tell me what’s wrong? Perhaps I can help. Or if not me, then your father or mother.”
“Nothing is wrong.” Guy spoke every word precisely. “And I don’t need anyone’s help, least of all Robin’s. Besides, he is too busy making friends with my cousin to bother about me.”
“So that’s what this is about.” Sir Richard’s voice had lost its gentleness. “Jealousy is a sin, Guy. It eats you up inside. Do not give in to it.”
“I’m not jealous of him,” Guy protested.
Sir Richard ignored him. “Have you thought that your cousin might talk to you if you were friendlier towards him?”
“Have you ever thought that Robin isn’t quite so perfect as he makes out?”
“I am well aware of Robin’s faults, Guy, but you need to get a hold of your anger before it’s too late.”
“Too late for what?”
Sir Richard turned away. “I will leave you to work that out for yourself.”
Stupid old man. Guy stared after his tutor’s disappearing back. What did he know? He thought Robin came straight down from heaven, and Bryan should be out here talking to him
, not in there talking to Robin.
Guy kicked at the ground. He took a certain amount of pleasure in scuffing the toes of his boots. They were new, only bought for him a few weeks ago on one of the few occasions his father had bothered to leave the house. His father was so pathetic. Guy didn’t need him. He didn’t need anyone.
***
Giving Sir Richard the slip proved easier than Robin had expected—too easy, in fact. If Robin didn’t know better, he might have suspected Sir Richard of deliberately turning a blind eye, but that was unlikely. His tutor had never let him off his studies before.
Still, there he was, on a sunny day, off to taste the delights of Locksley fair, even if it meant having Guy and Katrina tagging along.
Locksley village was alive with activity. Work had been suspended for the day, and the peasant folk were out in droves. Many had put on their gayest clothes, which wasn’t saying much. Compared to them, Robin and his friends were the peacocks in a drab flock of hens. Still, the shabbiness of their clothes didn’t prevent the peasants from enjoying themselves.
The fair was held on the central village green. On a wooden platform that served as a stage, some mummers were acting out a play. It appeared to be a farce of some kind, and the audience was loving it, laughing and clapping at regular intervals.
There were stalls selling gingerbread and honey cakes. A giant, flaxen-haired youth was challenging all would-be contestants to a wrestling match while the crowd cheered. He appeared to be winning every bout.
Music reached Robin’s ears—the sweet notes of a lute. Turning, he saw Ned a Dale and Alan. Ned played the lute while Alan was playing a wooden flute. The tune was lively and infectious, in keeping with the festive atmosphere, and the hat at Ned’s feet already held a sizeable number of coins. A crowd had gathered to listen, and many were clapping in time. Robin flipped a coin into the hat as they passed.
Some rough targets had been set up and an archery tournament was in progress.
Robin’s eyes lit up.
“Fancy trying your luck?” Guy drawled. “After all, your skills are so legendary.”