Heir of Locksley

by N B Dixon

  She took a sip and then gagged. “It’s bitter.”

  Katrina laughed. “Drink it all up now. I’m sure you’ll feel better.”

  Lucy drank the concoction as quickly as she could, pulling faces all the while. When she was finished, she handed the mug back to Katrina with a grimace. “Maybe it makes you better by killing you.”

  Katrina put down the mug and took the ladle from Lucy. “Here, let me do that. You sit down. Give it time to work.”

  Lucy collapsed onto a stool. She didn’t know what she would have done without Katrina these past few days. Just to know that another girl was going through the same ordeal as her, that she wasn’t alone, was a comfort.

  “Did Old Molly have anything to help you?”

  Katrina shook her head. “She said she would not be party to murder.”

  “She’s probably right,” Lucy said. “I’m sure it’s a sin.”

  Katrina’s laugh was bitter. “What does she think will happen when my brother finds out?”

  Lucy asked the question that had been on the tip of her tongue for days. “Why does Guy of Gisborne hate Robin so much?”

  Katrina shrugged, as if the subject were of little interest. “They had the same tutor growing up, Sir Richard of Lee. Robin outshone Guy in everything.”

  So all this was as a result of Guy’s jealousy.

  “I know,” Katrina said. “You would think he’d be able to see past that, but he’s still a little boy in many ways.” She glanced out of the open door at the setting sun. “The men are late, aren’t they?”

  “Robin’s meeting Sir Richard to discuss what to do about your brother and his friends.”

  “You don’t mean he’s planning to go to Nottingham?” Katrina’s eyes were wide with fear.

  Lucy nodded. She had tried to talk Robin out of it, but there was no changing his mind once it was set on something. Anxiety knotted her stomach. What if he didn’t come back? He wasn’t immortal, whatever he might think.

  “You love him very much, don’t you?”

  Lucy nodded.

  “We were betrothed once, you know.”

  Lucy gaped at Katrina, sure she had misheard.

  “Well, almost,” Katrina went on. “It was called off at the last minute.”

  Lucy’s voice was a faint whisper. “Why?”

  “Our fathers had a falling out. It’s a long story. You should get Robin to tell you about it sometime.”

  Lucy was appalled. Why had Robin never mentioned the fact that the girl they were harbouring was once his intended bride? And why was Katrina telling her now?

  “If I’d known, I never would have—”

  “Don’t be silly.” Katrina waved the ladle dismissively. “It was a long time ago. Robin loves you. And I have my Elias. Everything has worked out for the best in the end. Besides, Robin and I don’t have that much in common. I doubt we would have been happy together, though I was besotted with him when we were little.”

  Lucy didn’t know what to say. She didn’t have much in common with Robin either. They were from two different worlds.

  Katrina lifted the pot off the fire. “I think this is ready.”

  ***

  “He’s late,” Robin said. He stared around the crowded tavern. Men were drinking and laughing, celebrating the end of a hard day’s work. At the bar, the landlord was breaking up a quarrel that looked like developing into an all-out brawl, and Jane was flirting with patrons—a typical evening, but Robin’s stomach was tight with anxiety.

  “Are you sure he’s coming?”

  Will sighed. “For the third time, yes. Relax, will you?”

  But Robin couldn’t relax. They had twenty-four hours to come up with a plan. Twenty-four hours before Guy and his rebels assassinated the king along with his most loyal knights.

  “How did Katrina take the news?” Will asked.

  “Badly. I imagine she will try to find some way to stall. I’ll take her as soon as we are finished here.”

  “We could always keep her as a hostage,” Will suggested.

  Robin shook his head. “She and Guy were never that close. I don’t think he would put his grand scheme on hold just for her. Plus, I don’t want him sending more men to Locksley. You were right. I never should have brought her to the village.”

  “Say that again. I was right?” Will’s eyes were dancing.

  Robin glowered at him, but this only made his grin widen.

  The tavern door opened, letting in a blast of cold night air. Robin looked up and breathed a sigh of relief.

  Sir Richard made straight for the table, nodding and exchanging greetings with a few people as he passed.

  Robin got up to shake his old tutor’s hand. “I’m glad you could come.”

  “You’re looking well, Robin. The working life suits you.”

  “How is Martha?”

  “She is well, though she misses you sorely.”

  “I’ll ride over and see her once this is over.”

  “Your father misses you, too.”

  Robin’s face hardened. “I doubt that.”

  “You are his son.” Sir Richard’s voice was gentle.

  “And he cast me out.”

  “Gentlemen,” Will cut in. “Don’t we have important matters to discuss?”

  Robin took a deep breath. “Will is right. You said the banquet is tomorrow. Guy and his band of rebels intend to kill the king. We have to stop them.”

  Sir Richard considered Robin’s words. “If, as you believe, the sheriff is also part of the rebellion, he will be watching all those going in and out of the castle carefully. He may even have bribed members of the garrison to turn a blind eye and allow certain people through.”

  “We have one advantage,” Robin said. “Guy doesn’t know we are onto him. He will not be on the lookout for us.”

  “I’ll go to Nottingham at first light and try to learn what I can,” Sir Richard said. “There may be some still loyal to the king among the men at arms.”

  “What about numbers?” Robin asked. “Can we count on any nobles to help?”

  “There are plenty loyal to the king who will fight for him, but we don’t know what John’s plan is. If I know him, he won’t be involved directly at all. His brother Richard is a born soldier, whereas John isn’t called ‘Softsword’ for nothing. I will notify as many of the nobles as I can.”

  “There’s still the question of how we are to enter the castle,” Robin said.

  Sir Richard shook his head. “There is no need for you to be there at all.”

  Robin bristled. “Do you think I’m going to sit back and watch? This is my chance to humiliate Guy once and for all. I owe it to Lucy and her family if nothing else.”

  “No!” Sir Richard’s voice was firm. “I do not doubt your courage, Robin, but you are untried. This will not be just a tavern brawl. People will get hurt. I would never live with myself if you were killed.”

  Robin opened his mouth to argue, but Sir Richard had already risen to go. He drained the last of his ale. “It is late. I will try to get a few hours of sleep before the ride to Nottingham.” He laid a hand on Robin’s shoulder. “Do not be so quick to throw your life away, Robin. You will have your chance to shine. Is settling an old score worth the price of your life? Think of your unborn child. Do you want it growing up without its father?”

  Robin said nothing. Of course he didn’t want to die, but he couldn’t sit back and do nothing while Guy plotted treason. He was hurt that Sir Richard could think so little of his skill. He had trained him after all. Did he still believe Robin to be a boy playing at being a knight? Robin knew this was no game. He understood the risks. He was no innocent child.

  “So, when are we leaving?” Will said as soon as Sir Richard had left.

  Robin opened his mouth to reply, when the door flew open and Harry burst in, stark terror on his face.

  Robin started to his feet. “Harry, what is it?”

  Harry was gasping for breath. “Lucy, she’s�
� You’d better come with me.”

  Fear constricted Robin’s throat so that he could hardly get the words out. “What has happened?”

  “I think… I think she’s dying.”

  For perhaps ten seconds, Robin stood motionless, while his brain struggled to understand Harry’s words. Lucy? Dying? It couldn’t be possible. She had been perfectly healthy when he’d said goodbye to her earlier that evening.

  The whole tavern had fallen silent. Robin became aware of Will’s hand on his shoulder, but when Will spoke, it was to Harry.

  “What do you mean she’s dying?”

  Harry shrugged. He looked like a helpless child. “She took something Katrina gave her. Meg fears she may lose the baby.”

  “Where is Katrina?” Robin demanded.

  “Gone.”

  Terror closed cold fingers around Robin’s heart. He wasted no more time, but took off at a run, Will hard on his heels.

  He burst through the mill door. The machinery had been turned off for the day, and the mill was silent. On a bed of empty flour sacks, lay Lucy. Her face was grey and her eyes glazed. Meg knelt beside her, holding her hand. She looked up at Robin, and the anguish in her face cut him like a sword stroke.

  “Alice—the carpenter’s wife—has gone for Old Molly, but I fear there is nothing she can do.” Meg released Lucy’s hand to wipe a cloth across her brow.

  Robin flung himself down by Lucy’s side and took her hand. She drew up her knees, her free hand clutching her stomach. Robin saw that her dress and the sacks she lay on were soaked with blood.

  Lucy’s eyes found him, and through her pain, she knew him. “Robin!”

  “It’s all right.” The words stuck in Robin’s throat. It wasn’t all right. Nothing would be again if Lucy died. “Someone has gone for help. Hold on.”

  Lucy turned her head to the side and vomited. Robin raised her head, afraid she would choke. When the spasms were over, he hoisted her into his arms. He was aware of Will, Harry and Much all hovering close.

  Tears and sweat ran down Lucy’s face. “It was Katrina,” she gasped.

  “Don’t talk, love.” Meg was also weeping.

  Lucy’s whole body tensed as another spasm of agony took her.

  Robin pushed the matted hair off her forehead.

  Lucy was breathing in painful pants, but she was still struggling to speak. “Katrina gave me…drug. She said it would…ease my sickness. I’m sorry, Robin.”

  “You have nothing to be sorry for.” Robin’s voice broke.

  “It hurts.”

  “I know. It will be better soon.” The lie slipped easily off his tongue, and he saw from Lucy’s eyes that she didn’t believe him. She was dying, and they both knew it.

  Much was now sobbing against his mother’s shoulder, and silent tears streamed down Harry’s face. Will was a still, watchful presence near the door.

  “I’m frightened,” Lucy whispered.

  Robin pulled her closer and kissed her forehead. “I’m here, Lucy. I won’t leave you, I swear.”

  “I love you.” Lucy’s eyes fluttered closed.

  “No!” The word tore from him. “No, Lucy, please, stay with me.”

  She drew another shuddering breath. Her fingers gripped his weakly and held on.

  The mill door crashed open. The carpenter’s wife was there, Old Molly shuffling behind her.

  Robin surrendered Lucy to her mother’s embrace. In two strides, he was across the room and had seized the wise woman by her thin shoulders. He shook her so hard, her grey hair whipped around her face.

  “What have you done, witch? Your foul potion did this. You had better cure her or by God I’ll kill you.”

  Will charged forward and dragged Robin off his victim. Robin swung a punch at him, which Will blocked.

  “Robin, enough! Let her do her work.”

  Old Molly had fallen to her knees. She got to her feet and stumbled over to Lucy, casting a reproachful look over her shoulder at Robin.

  “Poison,” she grunted after a cursory examination. “What caused it?”

  Robin’s voice shook with rage. “Katrina gave her something she said would cure her sickness. You’re the only wise woman in these parts. It must have come from you.”

  “Lady Katrina did come to me. She wanted to get rid of a child. I gave her what she sought. I said it was highly dangerous in large quantities. It’s hardly my fault if my words were ignored.”

  Robin took a furious step towards the old crone, but Will seized his arm.

  Harry looked as if he had aged twenty years. “So you’re saying Katrina deliberately poisoned my Lucy? In God’s name, why?”

  The same question resounded through Robin’s mind. Why would Katrina want to murder Lucy? Had she been acting on her brother’s orders? Had Guy planned it so Robin would be distracted and not come after him?

  Old Molly straightened with difficulty. “There is nothing to be done. You must pray for a quick end.”

  Her words didn’t make sense. “You’re a healer. Do something!”

  Old Molly’s face showed no pity or remorse. “The girl is beyond any mortal aid.” She shuffled towards the door.

  Robin fought harder against Will’s restraint. “Let me go, damn you.”

  “Robin?” It was a weak thread of a voice, but Robin heard it. He froze.

  Lucy’s eyes were open. She raised one hand towards him, but it fell back weakly.

  Will released Robin, and he rushed to her side, pulling her into his arms once more. She smiled at him. Then she drew a final breath, her eyes fluttered closed, and she went limp.

  ***

  Robin wasn’t sure how long he sat there while all around him, the mill echoed with the sounds of grief. It must have been only a few minutes, but it felt like an eternity.

  Lucy’s body was still warm in his arms. Her dead face looked peaceful.

  It’s a joke, Robin thought. It has to be. She can’t be dead. My child can’t be gone. Any moment now, she’ll open her eyes, and this will all have been a bad dream.

  Robin waited for tears to come. He waited to feel something, but he remained numb, divorced from reality. He was floating in a limbo between Lucy being alive and Lucy being gone, and if he accepted that she was gone where he could not follow, his world would fall apart.

  “Robin?”

  Robin raised his head. Harry was looking down at him, his eyes red from weeping. From his expression, Robin thought this probably wasn’t the first time the miller had tried to get his attention.

  “Give her to me now, lad.”

  It took Robin a few seconds to understand what the miller had said. When he did, he tightened his hold. “No.”

  “She must be buried decently.”

  “No!” Robin said again more loudly. His shell of numbness was cracking, and panic was seeping through him instead. Lucy was here, solid and real. As long as he held her, he could tell himself there had been some sort of mistake. If he let go of her, that would mean he’d given up, he’d accepted the fact that she wasn’t coming back to him. “Leave her alone.”

  “I understand how you feel, son. She was a good wench. She didn’t deserve…” Harry’s voice cracked.

  Looking into his eyes, so lost and full of pain, Robin realised something. This was the second child Harry and Meg had lost. The one child remaining to them was a cripple, and it was doubtful if he would survive into manhood. This couple’s lives had been torn apart and by one family. It was this knowledge that finally cleared Robin’s head. Harry and Meg could not avenge their suffering, but he could.

  Stooping, he brushed his lips across Lucy’s one final time, then he surrendered her into her father’s arms.

  Getting to his feet, he stumbled blindly for the door. Once outside, he sank to sit on the doorstep and put his face in his hands.

  He sensed rather than saw Will come to sit beside him. He didn’t bother to raise his head. “I killed her.”

  “It was the Gisborne whore who killed her. You
weren’t to blame.”

  “No? Who brought her here in the first place? You told me not to, and I didn’t listen. God, Will.” His voice broke.

  Will reached out, drawing Robin to him. Robin resisted for a moment, then leaned into him with a sob. For a minute or two, Will held him, saying nothing as Robin wept into his shoulder.

  At last, Robin pulled back. It was difficult to meet Will’s eyes.

  “I’ll kill her.”

  “Aye.” Will’s voice was a little hoarse. “We’ll kill them both.”

  Robin scrubbed the back of his hand across his eyes and stood. He would grieve later. There was one desire in his heart now—vengeance. Nothing else mattered.

  “What now?” Will asked.

  “We leave for Nottingham as soon as you find us a couple of horses.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter 20

  The moon was bright as they rode. The horses were slow, plodding animals, more used to pulling carts than carrying passengers. Still, they were the best Will had been able to find at such short notice. At Locksley Manor, there were plenty of fast mounts to choose from, but stealing two would have wasted valuable time.

  Robin was a silent presence beside him. More than once, Will opened his mouth to speak, wanting desperately to break the tension, but always the expression on Robin’s face stopped him.

  The brief moment of vulnerability Robin had shown outside the mill might never have happened. He gazed straight ahead, his figure stiff and upright in the saddle.

  Will knew Robin would not rest until Guy and Katrina were dead, but he wasn’t thinking rationally. They had no way of getting a warning to the king and no way into the castle. Will was afraid Robin intended to fight his way through to Guy, regardless of who got in his way. Getting them both killed was all that would achieve.

  Something caught Will’s eye, and he reined in sharply. Sir Richard’s horse was grazing at the side of the road. It was saddled and bridled, but its master was nowhere to be seen.

  “Robin!”

  Robin looked over his shoulder. “What is it?”