Heir of Locksley

by N B Dixon

  Robin ignored the gibe. “I think I will.”

  “He is the best in the Shire,” Katrina assured Bryan.

  Guy snorted. “I doubt that, Katrina.”

  Robin wove his way through the crowd. He was so busy watching what was going on around him that he didn’t look where he was going and collided with someone.

  The girl stumbled and dropped the basket she was carrying.

  “Can’t you look where you’re—” she began angrily. Then her eyes took in Robin’s clothes, and her cheeks coloured. “I beg your pardon. I did not see you.” Not meeting his eyes, she bent to pick up the contents of her basket, which had spilled over the grass.

  Bryan, Guy and Katrina were looking back, having just noticed Robin wasn’t with them.

  “Here.” Robin bent to help the girl. “It was my fault. I’m sorry.”

  The girl looked startled. She was around Robin’s age. Her hair was fair—a clear sign of her Saxon blood—and her dress was worn, but clean. She fixed blue eyes on Robin’s face. They held a quizzical expression.

  He could guess what she was thinking. Why was he helping her? No one else of his class would. Robin felt a little uncomfortable himself. He hadn’t given it any thought. He had caused the collision and immediately stopped to help.

  Katrina was watching him, stunned. Guy’s lip was curled in a sneer.

  The girl picked up her now full basket. “Thank you,” she murmured, before melting into the crowd.

  “That was nice of you,” Katrina said. “I mean, she was only a peasant.”

  Robin gave her a look but said nothing.

  He headed for the archery targets, not waiting to see if the others followed. He was the youngest competitor there, but any patronising looks from the judges soon disappeared as he knocked out two men twice his age. He drew quite an audience and when they finally moved on, he was flushed with his success.

  “You weren’t lying,” Bryan said. “You certainly know how to shoot. Will you teach me?”

  “If you like,” Robin said easily.

  Guy scowled.

  Katrina dragged them over to a brightly coloured tent. “Look! A fortune teller.”

  “Oh really, Katrina,” Guy scoffed. “Trust a girl to believe in that kind of nonsense.”

  “Who says it’s nonsense?” Katrina retorted. “I want my fortune told.”

  “Does anyone have any coins?” Robin asked.

  Bryan dug in his belt purse. “I do.”

  Guy snorted again.

  “Are you scared, Guy?” Robin asked innocently.

  “Of course not,” Guy snapped. “Let’s get it over with.”

  As Robin lifted the tasselled flaps of the tent to duck inside, several tiny bells uttered a soft chime. The inside of the tent was dim, lit only by a few candles that gave off a strange perfume. It tickled Robin’s nose and he fought the urge to sneeze. Patterned rugs covered the floor and several scrolls littered a small wooden table.

  The fortune teller was younger than Robin had expected. She wore her black hair gathered in a bun at the nape of her neck. Her dress had a bright, garish pattern, as did the matching shawl she wore, its tassels dangling into her lap. Rings glittered on every finger, and beads and bangles adorned her neck and wrists.

  She looked up as they entered and her searching gaze roved over each of them. “You wish to hear your futures?” Her voice was musical and husky. Her eyes were a piercing blue.

  “Yes, Madam.” Bryan proffered his money.

  She took the coins and put them in a cloth pouch hanging at her waist.

  “Who would like to go first?”

  Katrina stepped eagerly forward.

  “Are you a real gypsy?” Guy demanded. “Can you really tell the future?”

  She fixed him with her cool gaze. “Certain things about one’s fate can be divined by those who know how. Hold out your hand palm upwards,” she instructed Katrina.

  Katrina did so. The gypsy took it in both of hers, examining the lines crisscrossing Katrina’s palm.

  “You will soon have your heart’s desire.”

  Katrina beamed. “I knew it,” she cried, smiling over at Robin.

  Robin didn’t know where to look.

  “Now you,” the gypsy said to Bryan.

  He offered his palm for inspection.

  “You will make a choice and pay a terrible price.”

  Bryan looked uneasy. Without a word, he stepped aside for Guy to take his turn.

  “You will have all you wish for,” the Gypsy pronounced, and Guy’s face lit up. “But you will lose your soul in the process.”

  Guy looked shocked for a moment and then wrenched his hand away. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, gypsy. This is all nonsense.”

  She ignored him. “And now it is your turn, Robin of Locksley.”

  Robin flinched. “How do you know my name?”

  “Your hand,” was all she said.

  Robin held it out. She pored over it far longer than she had any of the others.

  “Your future stands at a crossroads. The decisions you make in the next few years will decide it for better or worse.” She let go of him.

  Robin was bewildered. “What do you mean?”

  “My job is to foretell, not to explain. The future can be altered through a single decision or action either by yourself or others. It is not set in stone. Remember that.”

  ***

  Robin was quiet on the walk back to Locksley Manor. Katrina chatted away to Bryan, but Robin barely listened.

  Katrina was glowing, and why not? Hers was the only future that hadn’t held doom and gloom, though what it meant, Robin didn’t know and didn’t want to find out. He had a horrible feeling it involved him in some way. It seemed Katrina had decided the same thing.

  Guy was silent also, but Robin was too busy trying to figure out his own prophecy to worry about him.

  He stood at a crossroads. Well, that made no sense. His future had been mapped out for him from the moment he was born. He was the Heir of Locksley. One day, he would take his father’s place as lord of the estate. He would manage the land, oversee disputes among his peasants, collect their rents and his share of the grain, as well as tithes to the church and taxes for the king. It wasn’t a future he was looking forward to, but it was his, and he didn’t see how he could change it.

  “For goodness sake, Katrina,” Guy burst out. “Could you be silent for five minutes? You’re giving me a headache.”

  Katrina tossed her hair. “You’re just afraid because the gypsy said you would lose your soul.”

  “I’m not afraid,” Guy shot back, a little too quickly. “It’s all nonsense anyway. Only a simpleton would believe it, or a woman. Girls have no better sense. That gypsy should be burned as a witch.”

  “But if it is nonsense,” Bryan said mildly, “then it can’t be real witchcraft.”

  Robin grinned in spite of himself.

  Guy floundered for a moment. “I shall still tell my father about her. She will be stopped.”

  “You’ll tell your father you deliberately abandoned your studies to attend a peasant’s fair?” Robin asked, eyebrows raised. “You must really hate that gypsy.”

  “He won’t tell,” Katrina said with a scornful look at her brother. “He’s too scared.”

  Guy shot her a poisonous glare.

  ***

  Martha pounced on them the moment they entered the house. “Where have you all been?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Your father wishes to speak to you, Robin. Yours, too, Katrina. They’re waiting for you.”

  Robin met Guy’s gaze. For a moment, they were in perfect accord.

  Their parents must know they’d gone to the fair, but why wasn’t Guy in trouble as well?

  Lord Locksley and Sir Benedict were waiting in the great hall. Robin was surprised to see Lady Gisborne there also.

  Guy and Bryan hesitated in the doorway, but she waved them forward.

  “Come on, children. T
here’s no need to look so worried. We have good news.”

  “Where were you?” Lord Locksley demanded.

  “Studying, Father,” Robin tried without much hope. He braced himself for a dressing down, but Lord Locksley just shrugged.

  “Well, you are here now. As Lady Gisborne says, we have some news.

  “As you know, there was a time when the Gisborne and Locksley estates were one and the same. When the king gave some of the Gisborne land to Sir Edmund and made him the first Lord of Locksley, the two families were at odds for years, but that breach healed in time. It was hoped the families would be joined once again through marriage, but that has been impossible up to now, owing to the lack of daughters on either side.”

  Lord Locksley smiled at Katrina. “This is no longer the case.”

  Robin stared at his father in mounting horror. He can’t mean…he can’t mean…

  “Which means,” Sir Benedict said, beaming first at his daughter, then at Robin, “that you two are to be betrothed. The marriage ceremony will not take place for another six or seven years, by which time, Robin, you will have learned all you need in order to run an estate.”

  At this point, Robin noticed his father’s smile looked a little forced, as did Lady Gisborne’s. Guy was staring at his parents with as much horror as Robin. Katrina looked radiant.

  “You will have to work hard, Robin,” Lord Locksley went on. “This is a great responsibility. You must prove yourself worthy of it.”

  With difficulty, Robin croaked out the expected response. “Yes, Father. Thank you.”

  “You may go. There will be a celebration banquet tonight and the betrothal ceremony will take place soon.”

  “I knew it,” Katrina cried the moment they were out of earshot of their parents. “The gypsy said I would have my heart’s desire. She was right.”

  For the first time in his life, Robin was speechless. He escaped from his bride-to-be and from Guy’s hostile stare. He fled upstairs to his chamber where he collapsed on his bed.

  It has to be a coincidence, he told himself. The gypsy couldn’t have known. His father had probably been planning this for ages, since the day of Katrina’s birth. But he was unnerved. The gypsy had known his name, after all. True, she could have learned it from one of the villagers, but what reason would she have for finding it out? She couldn’t have known he would come to see her, could she? Was it really his future to marry Katrina?

  The idea filled him with dread and resentment. He supposed he liked Katrina, but not enough to marry her. He had known her since they were infants. She was like the annoying little sister he’d never had. The idea of someday being married to her… He just couldn’t picture it. And having Guy as his brother-in-law? Once, he wouldn’t have minded, but Guy had changed.

  Was that what the gypsy had meant about him being at a crossroads? If he refused to marry Katrina when the time came, it would certainly change his future.

  The marriage was years away, but there was still the betrothal ceremony. His father had said it would take place soon. How soon? Robin wondered. He would be bound to Katrina then, even if they weren’t officially married. Maybe he should run away and live with Gilbert White-hand and his outlaws in Sherwood.

  “Sweetheart, are you all right?”

  Robin hadn’t heard Martha come in. She sat beside him on the bed.

  “They shouldn’t have sprung it on you like that.”

  Robin was surprised. Martha never criticised his father in front of him. She was always careful to remain neutral and keep her private thoughts locked away.

  “You were my mother’s nurse, weren’t you?”

  “No, I was her maid. I came with her to Locksley. I was only a few years older than you.”

  “How old was she when she married my father?”

  “She was fourteen. Your father was a handsome man of one and twenty.”

  “Their marriage was arranged, too?”

  “It’s a common enough practice among the nobility. You know that, Robin. But you don’t have to worry. Your marriage won’t be for years yet, until you are a grown man.”

  “There’s the betrothal.”

  “It’s a formality, nothing more.”

  “I can’t marry her,” Robin exclaimed.

  Martha suppressed a smile, which made him glower at her.

  “You’re shocked now, but in time you will see this is the best thing for everyone.”

  Robin doubted he would ever view his future marriage as anything short of a disaster.

  ***

  Guy paced his bedchamber, so furious he could spit. This was it, the final straw. Robin had taken everything Guy ever wanted. Guy supposed he would only lose the Gisborne estate if he had no sons and Robin did, but the idea of Robin maybe someday taking his place was too much to bear. Particularly when the Locksley land should never have been his to start with.

  “Guy?”

  He rounded on his mother. She stood in the doorway, beautiful as always. Beautiful and cold.

  “How could you?” he raged at her, not caring if his father heard.

  “How could I what?” Her tone was calm. “You are still your father’s heir, Guy. Nothing has changed.”

  “Yes, it has. Someday, Robin’s descendants may rule at Gisborne. Is that what you want?”

  “Katrina’s marriage ensures the family connection. It means the two estates become one. You will ensure its continuation. Your descendants will reign over both estates as it was meant to be. The Gisborne name will have pride once more.”

  “Only if Robin doesn’t have any sons and I do.”

  “Have faith, my son. Our lord works in mysterious ways. People live and people die. That is the way of things.”

  Guy stared at her. Did she mean she would kill Robin? He would be the most logical target once his marriage had ensured the union of the two estates. There would be Lord Locksley to deal with as well. Surely that wasn’t what his mother had meant? His father and Lord Locksley were good friends.

  His mother reached out and ruffled his hair. Guy couldn’t remember her ever doing that before.

  “Put it from your mind for now, and trust that all will turn out well.”

  Guy believed her. He didn’t know why, but he did. His anger cooled, and hope took its place. He would get what he deserved—somehow.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 6

  “Block!” Sir Richard called. Wood crashed against wood as Guy fended off his cousin.

  “Good, now, attack. Don’t give him time to recover.”

  Guy attacked with more ferocity than he needed to. Bryan’s eyes widened, but he didn’t panic as Guy had hoped. He parried, and to his frustration, Guy was unable to get under Bryan’s guard.

  Sweat trickled down his back. He glanced over at Robin to see how the master swordsman was enjoying the bout, and paid for it when, with a twisting motion, Bryan sent the sword spinning out of his hand. Guy let out an oath.

  “Mind your language,” Sir Richard said sharply. “No knight uses such words.”

  Guy glowered at his tutor as he stood, panting. Bryan, he noticed, didn’t even look winded. A mother’s boy he may have been, but he knew how to handle a blade. Guy couldn’t believe he had allowed himself to get distracted. Why did he care what Robin thought, anyway?

  Robin sent Bryan a lazy grin. “That was a clever trick. You’ll have to teach me.”

  “Of course,” Bryan said.

  Well, aren’t they friendly? Guy decided it was time to make his announcement. He wanted to wipe the smile off Robin’s face, and it wouldn’t do his cousin any harm to come down a peg or two either.

  “My father is sending me to Nottingham Castle to be a squire. I shall be trained by the best.” He laid emphasis on the last two words with a pointed look at his tutor, but Sir Richard’s expression remained neutral.

  “That is good news, Guy,” he said.

  “I shall be a knight.” Guy rammed the point home. “It was Lord Locksley who recomm
ended me.” He smirked at Robin. “Odd that he didn’t choose you, his own son.”

  Guy was pleased to see Robin’s expression had turned stony. Bryan, too, was looking uncomfortable. This was good—this was very good.

  “Back to our lesson,” Sir Richard said. “Guy, we need to work on your guard—” But Guy and Robin hadn’t taken their eyes off each other. Guy could almost feel the anger coming off Robin, and it gave him a heady feeling of power.

  “The sheriff’s son lives at the castle,” Robin remarked.

  “Why should I care?”

  “No reason, only that he wasn’t friendly towards you the last time you met. He will be looking to pay someone back for his humiliation. I wouldn’t wish to be in your shoes. Still, a would-be knight in training like you, I am sure you will manage without someone to hold your hand.”

  Guy opened his mouth, but no words came out.

  Robin turned his back on him. “How about it, Bryan? You won’t be able to trick me so easily.”

  ***

  Robin won his bout with Bryan without much trouble. Then he turned to Guy. “It’s you and me next. Bryan has fought twice in a row. He deserves a rest.”

  Guy’s eyes narrowed. His lip curled in a sneer. “If you like.”

  Robin and Guy faced off. Guy made a slash, which Robin easily blocked. He slashed again, and the wooden swords locked. Before Guy could disengage his weapon, Robin made the same twisting movement he’d seen Bryan do, and Guy’s sword clattered to the floor.

  “I’d say the wrong boy is going to be a knight. Bryan deserves the honour more.”

  Guy lunged at him, but Sir Richard intervened. He held each boy in an iron grip.

  “That is enough. I am ashamed of the two of you, squabbling like a pair of peasant’s brats. Is this how you think knights behave?”

  Guy twisted out of Sir Richard’s grip. “I don’t need you anymore—any of you.” He stormed off.

  Bryan hesitated, looking uncertain. “I should maybe go after him.”

  “Yes, you should,” Sir Richard agreed.

  Bryan turned to Robin. “You did that trick on the first try.”

  Robin grinned. “I am a fast learner.”

  When Bryan was gone, Sir Richard released Robin. His face was more serious than Robin had ever seen it.