Heir of Locksley

by N B Dixon

As he so often did, Will seemed to pick up on Robin’s thoughts.

  “Look, why don’t I go? You can stay and keep an eye on things here.”

  Robin nodded. “Richard is probably in his hunting lodge. He always goes there around this time of year.”

  “I’ll be back before nightfall. We’ll have the prince and Guy dangling from a gallows soon.”

  “Just the two of us?”

  “Three, counting Sir Richard.”

  Robin had to laugh, but his good mood lasted only so long as Will was in sight. All around him, people were celebrating the good harvest. Though the work was by no means over, and the threshing and winnowing of the grain was still to be completed, no one would go hungry this winter.

  ***

  The hovel where Old Molly lived stank. As Katrina ducked through the rotting leather screen that served as a door, her nostrils were assaulted with the odours of stale sweat, rotten floor rushes and a sickly sweet smell like overripe fruit. Bundles of herbs hung from the rafters, adding their own scents to the mix, and salves in clay pots stood on shelves.

  Old Molly was grinding something with a pestle and mortar. She looked up as Katrina came in.

  She was aptly named; her body as withered and bent as an ancient tree. Her hair hung off her head in lank grey strands, and her face was like a wrinkled apple. Her eyes, however, were still sharp and bright, and they fastened on Katrina with a piercing gaze.

  “What do you want, girl? I’m busy.”

  Katrina forced herself to speak politely. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but I need your help.”

  Old Molly shuffled forward until they were nose to nose. Her rank breath blasted in Katrina’s face.

  “You are not from Locksley.”

  “I am Lady Katrina of Gisborne.”

  “Ah, and what may you be wanting of Old Molly, My Lady?”

  “I need to get rid of a child.”

  Old Molly didn’t bat an eyelid. “How far gone are you?”

  “Two months, I think, no more.”

  “And who is the father?”

  “That is none of your business.”

  “It is my business when people come pounding on my door screaming witchcraft because a woman has miscarried a child,” the old woman countered. “Why lay this on me? Why not consult an apothecary? I’m sure you’d have the money to pay him.”

  Katrina could feel her temper fraying. This woman was a good deal too nosey for her liking.

  “I’ve fled my home. No one knows about the child, not even the father. It would be much easier if I could get rid of the child secretly. I heard you were the person to come to.”

  “So I am.”

  Old Molly busied herself taking things off her shelves. She began putting pinches of this and that into her mortar, muttering to herself all the while.

  Katrina watched, fascinated. How intoxicating it must be to have the power of life and death at one’s fingertips. She wondered if she could get Old Molly to divulge any of her secrets, but she doubted it. These women kept their knowledge close, living as they did in perpetual fear of being branded a witch and burned at the stake.

  Old Molly picked up her pestle and ground away at her herbs with an energy that belied her spindly frame. When she was finished, there was left a fine white powder. She scooped this up with great care into a piece of parchment, which she folded into a packet.

  “Here.” She thrust it at Katrina. “Take one pinch three times a day with your meals. Mind, it doesn’t work straight away, and you’ll probably be puking your guts up for a week afterwards, but it should do the trick. Do not take more than I say. This stuff is lethal in large quantities.”

  Katrina took the packet and tucked it away inside her belt pouch.

  “That’ll be a penny,” Old Molly grunted, holding out a gnarled, filthy hand.

  Katrina dropped a penny into the woman’s palm, taking care not to touch her, and hurried out, glad to be breathing fresh air once more.

  ***

  As he left the bustle of Locksley village behind, Will felt himself relax a little. It was a long walk to Sir Richard’s hunting lodge, which was tucked away deep in Sherwood. Will supposed he could have ridden, but in truth, he was in no hurry to return. He wanted solitude, time to think.

  It was this business with Katrina. Will didn’t trust her. She was a Gisborne, she had slashed his face open, and she was in love with Robin. Robin couldn’t see it, or else he didn’t take it seriously, but it was obvious to anyone with eyes.

  Then there was Guy. Will knew Robin would want to deal with him personally. Revenge for Bryan’s murder, as well as Peter’s death and the suffering it had brought to his family would be at the forefront of Robin’s mind. Will had no interest in the machinations of nobles. King Henry, Prince Richard, Prince John—it didn’t matter to him who was on the throne. His main worry was that Robin would get himself killed.

  Sir Richard was sitting outside his hut fletching arrows. A grey mare grazed close by, and she lifted her head with a whinny as Will approached. Sir Richard looked up, and his face broke into a welcoming smile.

  “Good morning, young Will. And what brings you out here?”

  “Did you hear what happened in Locksley last night?”

  Sir Richard nodded. “Lord Locksley was not amused. He sent Edgar off to report to the sheriff first thing this morning.”

  “A lot of good that’ll do.”

  “Was Robin hurt?”

  “Not a scratch on him. He wants to see you.”

  “Why? What has happened? This wouldn’t have anything to do with the Lady Katrina, would it?”

  “Aye. She’s hiding in Locksley mill. Guy sent his men to fetch her out, but we saw them off. That’s not why Robin wants to see you. Guy’s up to something—treason by the sound of it.”

  “You’d better come inside.”

  Sir Richard’s hunting lodge was a one-roomed hovel with a thatch roof. Gaps showed through in places, revealing the wooden rafters beneath. The furniture consisted of a stool, a wooden plank supported on two logs, which served as a table, and a bag filled with hay for a bed. Against the wall stood Sir Richard’s longbow and a broadsword, scarred with use. There was a fire pit in the centre of the floor with a large, blackened cooking pot suspended over it. The hut had an air of homely simplicity about it.

  Will had been there many times with Robin. He knew it was the solitude of the place that appealed to Sir Richard. It was out of the way but close enough that he could still keep abreast of what was going on in the outside world. Robin had often talked of building something similar when he was older.

  “How about a mug of ale?” Sir Richard reached up to a shelf and took down a quart jug. He poured the ale into two clay mugs and handed one to Will. “I brew it myself, but don’t tell the landlord at the Blue Boar, or he will probably spit in my drink the next time I visit.”

  Will grinned and took a sip. “Not bad. Maybe you should set up in competition.”

  “I’ve thought of it,” Sir Richard said, to Will’s surprise. “But it’s an idle dream. I haven’t the money for one thing. Now what’s this about treason?”

  Will sat cross-legged on the floor close to the fire while Sir Richard took the stool. It was an old, rickety thing, and Will suspected that Sir Richard had made it himself.

  “Prince John has decided he wants to rule. He’s planning on killing the king at the banquet, Richard, too. He’s got some of the nobles on his side, including Guy. John has promised to return Locksley to Guy once he’s king.”

  Sir Richard’s expression gave nothing away. Only the tension in his shoulders betrayed his agitation. When he spoke, his voice was steady. “The banquet is tomorrow.”

  Will swore colourfully. Katrina had conveniently forgotten to mention the exact date. The scheming whore. What could they do in so little time?

  “You had better tell me all you know,” Sir Richard said.

  Will explained how Bryan had turned up with an arrow in his chest
and, before he died, had mentioned something about a plot against the king. He told him of how he and Robin had confronted Guy, and Katrina’s terrified pleas for help.

  “She made out she was in fear for her life. She said Guy and some supporters loyal to Prince John were going to attack the king.”

  Sir Richard furrowed his brow. “It’s no secret that Prince John covets the throne. He was angry when King Henry parcelled out land to his sons, believing he got the rough end of the deal. There is no good feeling between him and Richard, either. John has lived in his brother’s shadow for years.”

  “But how could it work?” Will protested. “Nottingham has an entire garrison of soldiers, not to mention the sheriff.”

  “I have long had my suspicions about Raymond Warci. I do not believe his loyalty is to the king, and it certainly isn’t to Richard. He may have bribed some of the soldiers to turn a blind eye or join their side.”

  “So, what do we do?”

  “I will come over and speak to you and Robin later. How is he, by the way?”

  It cost Will something to answer. “Well enough. Happier than I’ve seen him in a while.”

  “I wish I could say the same for his father,” Sir Richard said with a sigh. “He never mentions Robin. We’re forbidden to speak his name, but I know he misses him. He’s just too stubborn to admit it.”

  “It must run in the family,” Will muttered.

  Sir Richard grinned.

  “How did you come to be Robin’s tutor?”

  “I was the third son of a minor land owner. I had no choice but to make my money by the sword. I did the tourney circuit for a time, and when Young Henry rebelled against his father, I gave the king my support. Lord Locksley was my captain. He quickly recognised my skill as a warrior, and we became friends. I saved his life after he was badly wounded, and in gratitude, he petitioned the king and I was knighted. With the money I’d earned through taking prisoners of war, I was able to set myself up in the leather trade, but I found it not to my liking. I would still be a mercenary if Lord Locksley hadn’t given me his patronage. When he was looking for a tutor for Robin, I offered my services.”

  “Was he a good pupil?”

  “The best I’ve ever seen. It’s as if he was born with a bow in his hand, and few could touch him with a sword, either, though as I recall, you are the exception,” Sir Richard added with a grin.

  Will couldn’t hold back a smile of his own. “I don’t care if Lord Locksley loses his home or not, but Robin will. He loves the people of Locksley. He won’t want to see Guy as their master.”

  “We won’t let that happen.”

  “And Katrina?”

  “I would find a fresh hiding place for her as soon as possible.”

  “I thought Kirklees Abbey.”

  Sir Richard nodded. “I doubt even Guy would try dragging her out of there, assuming they aren’t on the same side, of course.”

  ***

  “Tomorrow?” Robin stared in shock at Will.

  Will nodded. “Seems our fine lady forgot to mention that.”

  Robin struggled to comprehend. Katrina had withheld information. She must have known when the banquet was to be, but she had deliberately kept it to herself. There could be only one reason: she was in league with her brother. She had to be.

  Rage filled him. It was all he could do not to walk into the mill and drag Katrina out. Mixed with the rage, however, was chagrin. Will had been right. Guy must have sent Katrina with the purpose of misleading them. But why had he then sent men to fetch her back? It made no sense. Whatever Guy’s game, Katrina had to leave, and as soon as possible. Where to send her?

  “The abbey,” Will said, answering Robin’s unspoken question. “She’ll do no mischief there.”

  Robin nodded. A grim smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I had better break the good news to her.”

  ***

  Katrina was unable to conceal her dismay. “Kirklees Abbey?”

  “It’s the safest place for you right now,” Robin said.

  Katrina felt as if he had slapped her. This was just one more rejection. What about his promise to shelter her?

  Robin rested a hand briefly on her arm. “It’s for the best. You know Guy will try again. He won’t rest until you are back with him. Locksley is in danger as long as you stay here.” His eyes pleaded with her for understanding. “I have to protect Lucy.”

  Lucy. Katrina seethed inwardly. Yet again, the peasant slut had come between them. Katrina made her eyes as wide and tragic as she could.

  “When must I go?”

  “As soon as someone can be found to escort you. I will take you myself if need be, and I’ll try to get a message to Elias so he knows where you are.”

  “You are very kind,” she murmured. “Have you told the sheriff about the attack on Locksley?”

  “My father sent his steward.”

  “You must warn your father. The banquet is the day after tomorrow. That is when Prince John and his fellow conspirators will strike.”

  “So soon?”

  Katrina was pleased to see she had startled him.

  “Why didn’t you mention this earlier?” he demanded.

  Katrina let her bottom lip tremble, and he shook his head.

  “Never mind. We have to get you away before then.”

  She would have to act soon. Time was running out.

  Making some excuse, Katrina hurried away from him. She needed to be alone, to figure out her next move. She allowed her feet to wander where they chose, not paying any attention to her surroundings. Soon, she had slipped into the trees bordering Locksley: the place where the village and Sherwood Forest met.

  The man was on her without any warning. Katrina barely had time to register what was happening before a muscular arm was around her neck and a hand clamped over her mouth.

  “Hello, little sister,” Guy purred close to her ear. “I’ve been wanting a word with you.”

  Katrina glared up at him. Her brother really had rotten timing. She thought about trying to break free, but she knew it would be useless. With his hand over her mouth, she couldn’t scream for help, either, not that anyone would hear her.

  Guy smiled. “Why, anyone would think you weren’t pleased to see me. Our mother is very angry with you. Consorting with the enemy.”

  Katrina made a strangled noise under his hand.

  “Don’t try to deny it.” Guy’s voice had turned deadly. “I should kill you now, you treacherous whore.”

  Katrina managed to shake her head. The combined pressure on her mouth and throat was making it hard to breathe.

  “But as we’re family, I’ll give you a chance to defend yourself.” He took his hand away from her mouth, and the pressure on her neck eased slightly.

  Katrina drew a shuddering breath. “You fool,” she hissed. “You’ve almost ruined everything.”

  He stared at her. This clearly wasn’t what he had expected. Probably he thought she would snivel and beg for her life.

  “What do you mean?” he snapped.

  “Your stupid assassin killed Bryan practically on Robin’s doorstep. He was able to gabble something to Robin before he died. Luckily for you, I repaired the damage.”

  Suspicion showed in every line of Guy’s face. “How?”

  “I spun him a sob story about being with child and on the run from my family, and he welcomed me into his new home with open arms. I was careful to give him information about your wicked schemes without telling him anything true. He believes the attack on the king will take place the day after tomorrow.”

  Guy looked amused. “Who is the father?”

  “Elias the groom.”

  The amusement fled Guy’s face. “I hope it isn’t true.”

  “Of course not. Do you think I’d let that filthy peasant touch me?” Well, that last bit was a lie, but it had the desired effect. Guy relaxed a little.

  Katrina pressed her advantage. “Everything was going according to plan until you
sent your thugs to capture me. What took you so long, by the way?”

  “I had business in Nottingham. It was on my return that our mother told me you were missing. She suspected where you had gone. Now you’re coming back with me.”

  “Not yet.”

  “You’ve fed Robin your pack of lies. What else is there to stay for?”

  “I have one more job to do before I leave.” The venom in her voice made Guy release her. He took an involuntary step backwards.

  “What job?”

  “You are not the only one who has a score to settle with Robin. He rejected me, and he shall pay for it.”

  Guy chuckled. “There’s nothing more amusing than a woman in a temper. All logic flies out of the window—not that you have much to start with. What are you going to do, stab him while he sleeps?”

  Katrina ignored this insult. “Oh, no. I want him to suffer first. I want him broken, his world in pieces. Then you can do what you like with him.”

  “Why should I believe you? You always were soft on him. You could be playing with me.”

  “Do you think I would accept being thrown over for a miller’s daughter? You can have your fun in Nottingham. You can even kill Robin at your leisure, but I will have my revenge first.”

  “And how long will that take?”

  “Meet me here in a couple of hours.”

  “Very well,” Guy said. “I will trust you once more, but you had better not be lying. If you betray me, then it won’t be Robin I kill.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter 19

  Lucy stirred the stew with one hand while pressing the other to her queasy stomach. The smell of vegetable pottage was never great at the best of times but today, it was all she could do not to throw down her ladle and run for the privy.

  “You don’t look well at all,” Katrina said.

  Lucy shrugged miserably.

  Katrina’s face was a mask of concern. “Have you told Robin how bad you’re feeling?”

  “He’s a lot on his mind just now. It’ll pass.”

  Katrina held out a mug of ale. “Drink this. It’s for sickness. Old Molly gave it to me. Hopefully, the ale will help to disguise the taste.”

  Lucy took the mug. Normally, she was suspicious of the wise woman’s remedies, though many villagers swore by her, but she was so desperate for any relief, she no longer cared.