Heir of Locksley

by N B Dixon

  “Damn it, Robin, just let me be.”

  Robin ignored him, half dragging, half carrying him across the hall. Will was a dead weight against him, barely able to keep his feet. Robin supported him with one arm, while maintaining a grip on his sword with the other hand. No one attacked them, however, and they made it to the chamber in safety. Once inside, Robin kicked the door closed and eased Will to the floor. Will slumped, half sitting against the wall as Robin began unlacing his tunic.

  The gash was deep, but not as serious as Robin had first feared. The blow had been clumsy. He didn’t think anything vital had been struck, and thanked God for Guy’s poor skill. Robin looked around for something he could use as a bandage.

  “You’re bleeding,” Will remarked.

  “Not as much as you.” Robin saw a cloth draped over a small table at the back of the room. Seizing a fold, he yanked it from the table, sending an array of pewter and silver goblets crashing to the floor.

  “The sheriff will be sending you a bill for that,” Will said.

  “I doubt it.” Robin began hacking at the cloth with his sword, slicing it into strips. “He’s dead.”

  He approached Will and began binding the strips around his side. Will’s tunic hung off one shoulder, revealing one muscular arm and the firm straight line of his back. Robin’s hands shook a little as he yanked the bandaging tight.

  Will grunted but made no complaint.

  Robin retrieved one of the unbroken goblets from the floor. Hurrying to another table on which were arranged various bottles of wine, he filled the goblet and put it into Will’s hands.

  “Drink this. It will help with the pain.”

  His tone had been business-like up to now as he concentrated on the task in hand, but staring into Will’s face, his self-control began to crack. That blow could so nearly have been fatal. It might be yet, if the wound became infected.

  “We need to get you back to Locksley. That wound will need stitches.”

  Will shook his head and grimaced. “You have a job to do first.”

  “That doesn’t matter now.”

  Will reached out and gripped Robin’s arm. “We didn’t go through all this just to run away.”

  The last of Robin’s composure broke. “I can’t just leave you!”

  “You can. Finish him.”

  Robin wavered. A part of him wanted to go after Guy and Katrina, to do what he’d come here for, but another part feared that if he left Will alone, he would not be here when he returned.

  “Go on,” Will said, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Robin hesitated a moment longer, then got to his feet.

  “Do not move,” he ordered. “And drink the rest of that wine. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  The ghost of the familiar, mocking smile tugged at Will’s lips. “Whatever you say, My Lord.”

  ***

  The hall was still a scene of battle. Women hid under the few tables that remained upright. Some of the braver ones were making a desperate run for the staircase leading to the gallery above. Even as Robin looked on, another woman broke from the protective huddle of her companions and darted for the stairs. Her gown was torn, and her hair had come down to straggle around her face.

  Robin’s heart contracted. It was Katrina. He followed.

  Several knights tried to block his progress. Robin fought through them all. He was barely aware of any of them. They were obstructions, nothing more. His mind was fixated on reaching Katrina.

  At last, he was free. In places, the stairs were slick with blood, showing that at least one person had been wounded in their escape. Robin became aware of his own wounds as he climbed. They throbbed with dull persistence. Worry for Will gnawed at him, but determination drove him on. If Katrina was up there, it stood to reason Guy was also. He could finish this.

  Robin stumbled out into the gallery and looked around him. Another two galleries branched off this one. Directly ahead was a door. He yanked at the handle, but it was locked from the inside.

  Robin looked around for some means of forcing it open. Several weapons hung on the wall, including an axe. Robin snatched it and struck with all his might. There was a scream and splinters of wood flew. Robin smiled grimly.

  A few more well-placed blows and the old wood shattered. Robin tossed the axe aside and pushed his way through, sword raised.

  Katrina was cowering against the wall. She straightened as he entered, her eyes darting about for some means of escape. Guy was nowhere in sight.

  In a couple of strides, Robin had her. He jammed the blade of his sword against her neck, cutting off her terrified cry. Blood welled from a shallow slash. She hit out at him, but he seized both her wrists in a crushing grip and pinned them to her chest with his free hand.

  “Where’s your brother?”

  Katrina’s eyes were huge in her pale face. He could feel the rapid jump of her pulse. When she spoke, however, her voice dripped venom.

  “So, the noble Robin Hood would attack a defenceless woman? I never would have thought it.”

  Robin dug the blade in a little deeper. “Where is he? Tell me!”

  “We were separated in the fighting.”

  Robin’s hand was shaking. “You killed her. Why?”

  Katrina let out a mad laugh. “Did you think I would be supplanted by a miller’s daughter?”

  “I was never yours.”

  “You were,” she shrieked.

  Her fury startled Robin. She appeared to have forgotten about the sword at her throat. Her eyes blazed with hatred and, unless he was mistaken, a glimmer of tears.

  “We were to be married, our bloodlines united. The fortune teller told us so. You were mine.”

  Robin stared at her in astonishment. She really was quite insane.

  “You did all this, and murdered an innocent girl, because of some stupid tale spun by a gypsy at a fare? For God’s sake, Katrina, she told us what she thought we wanted to hear. That’s what they do. I can’t believe you were foolish enough to take her seriously.”

  In his surprise, Robin’s grip had loosened slightly. Katrina tore herself free and lunged for his sword. Her hand closed on the blade, and she tried to wrest it from him, seemingly oblivious to the blood that gushed from her palm. Robin kicked her legs out from under her. She landed hard on her back. In an instant, Robin had straddled her, pinning her easily to the floor. The tip of the sword kissed her throat once more.

  Katrina screamed, a piercing sound that made Robin’s head ring. He clapped his free hand over her mouth.

  “I wouldn’t waste what breath you have left. No one will hear you.”

  Katrina’s breathing was loud and rapid in his ears. He saw the fear in her eyes. She was at his mercy. Slowly, he withdrew his hand from her mouth.

  “Please,” she whispered. “You are not a killer, Robin. Please don’t do this. I loved you.”

  Images flashed unwanted through his mind. Katrina following him around like a devoted puppy. The way she had looked up at him, eyes full of adoration. A silent tear escaped and rolled down her cheek, followed by another.

  Robin swallowed convulsively. Why was he thinking about that now? He had Lucy’s killer here under his sword. Now was the moment to avenge her death, but he couldn’t bring himself to strike. Murdering Katrina would not bring Lucy back to him.

  With an oath, Robin jerked the sword away. The abrupt movement left another shallow graze. More blood trickled down, staining the neck of Katrina’s gown.

  Robin hauled her to her feet and held her so their faces were inches apart.

  “I’ll give you a minute’s head start, but if I ever see you or your brother again, I’ll send you straight to hell.” He flung her away from him.

  Katrina stumbled and fell to her knees. She was up again in a moment, running for the stairs.

  Robin stayed where he was as the adrenaline drained from him. He already half regretted his decision. He had let Katrina go, soft-heart
ed fool that he was. He had failed. Defeat was a bitter taste in his mouth. He could run after her, but he knew he would never catch her now, and Guy, too, was gone.

  Robin descended the stairs in a daze. He had to get back to Will, make sure he was all right. Beyond that, he didn’t care.

  ***

  The battle was over. Several of the surviving rebels had been taken into custody by the king’s guards. Guests and servants clustered together in the corners of the hall like frightened sheep, watched over by yet more of the king’s men. There were bodies scattered throughout the hall. Robin recognised many of the sheriff’s men at arms, as well as some knights. Moans came from some of them, showing that they were not all dead.

  Robin wondered where John Little was. Hopefully the big man had survived.

  The room was a shambles. Benches and tables lay where they had toppled, and food littered the floor. Some hounds were already squabbling over the choicest morsels.

  Robin saw Richard in conversation with the king. Of his brother, there was still no sign. The villain must have made a run for it. Robin could only hope the king would find and punish him. Then something good would have come out of this.

  He spotted his father next. Lord Locksley appeared to be unhurt.

  Their gazes met. Lord Locksley took in Robin’s dishevelled state and the blood staining his tunic and hose.

  “You should have those gashes seen to.”

  “First I must find Will. He was badly wounded in the fight.”

  Lord Locksley’s expression was impossible to read.

  “You should know that thanks to your efforts, many of the conspirators are dead. Some managed to escape, including Guy of Gisborne and his family, but the rest will tell us all we need to know.”

  Robin nodded. The uncomfortable silence stretched between them.

  “Will you walk with me?” Lord Locksley asked, and for the first time in Robin’s memory, he sounded nervous, uncertain of his reception.

  “Once I have seen Will is all right.”

  Robin headed for the chamber where he had left Will. As his hand rested on the latch, fear seized him. What if Will was dead? Robin took a deep breath and pulled the door open.

  Will was in exactly the same position. Relief broke over Robin in a powerful wave as he stepped inside, allowing the door to slam shut behind him. Will raised his head and held out the empty wine cup.

  “I drank every last bit of it, and I haven’t moved.”

  A laugh caught in Robin’s throat.

  Will eyed him curiously. “So, did you finish them off, then?”

  Robin shook his head.

  Will stared at him. “You mean the horson and his slut of a sister are still running around somewhere?”

  “Apparently, Guy escaped. I found Katrina, but I let her go.”

  “You what?”

  Robin stabbed fingers through his hair. “It was stupid, I know. I had her at sword point, but I couldn’t do it. I’m sorry, Will.”

  “What for?”

  “I brought us here for nothing.”

  “You warned the king,” Will pointed out. “You killed the sheriff. Guy’s run off with his tail between his legs. He won’t be getting his hands on Locksley anytime soon.”

  “I didn’t avenge Lucy’s death.”

  Will shrugged and then winced. “At least you’re alive.”

  Robin blinked hard several times. His grief over Lucy, kept at bay these past few hours, was threatening to crush him. There was one task left, though.

  “My father wants to speak to me. As soon as I’ve seen him, I’ll find us a wagon from somewhere. You cannot ride home.”

  He bent to examine Will’s wound. Blood was already seeping through the rough bandages. “I will see if there is someone free to tend to you.”

  He was about to go, but Will’s hand on his arm stopped him. “You did your best, Robin. No one can do more than that.”

  Robin pulled away, though it cost him to do so. “I’ll be back soon.”

  Lord Locksley was still waiting for him. There was also a man who introduced himself as the castle surgeon.

  “Let me see your wounds,” he demanded.

  “My friend is hurt worse than I am. See to him first.”

  “In good time. There are plenty of wounded.”

  Robin didn’t have the energy to protest. He held out his sword arm and lifted his tunic so the surgeon could examine his thigh.

  “Neither of these are serious. You are very lucky.”

  Lord Locksley watched in silence while the surgeon applied salve and bandages. Once he was done, Lord Locksley beckoned Robin to follow him.

  They passed out onto the battlements. It was a relief to find fresh air, and Robin stood, gazing out at the town. It would be curfew soon, and people would be hurrying home. He and Will would have to leave if they didn’t want to be trapped in Nottingham overnight.

  “Robin?”

  He turned to his father. Lord Locksley looked highly uncomfortable, but he forged on. “I wanted to say…well, what you did tonight, it probably saved the king’s life. You were a hero.”

  Robin let out a bitter laugh. Guy and Katrina were still at large, as was Prince John. Will was injured, and he had killed one man and wounded several others. Granted, they were enemies of the king, and it had been their lives or his, but the stain would remain on his soul forever. All things considered, he did not feel particularly heroic.

  “I’m proud of you,” Lord Locksley said.

  Once, he would have given anything to hear those words. Now, it was too little far too late.

  “I heard before I left for Nottingham that the girl—”

  “Lucy,” Robin said.

  “That Lucy had died.”

  “What of it?”

  “Well, there is nothing to stop you from returning home. I miss you, Robin. I was too hasty in robbing you of your inheritance. You are young, after all, and I remember how I was at your age. I think we should start again.”

  Robin supposed he should have felt angry, but all he could muster was a weary disgust.

  “So, as far as you’re concerned, Lucy was just an unfortunate episode, and now she is gone, I can resume my old life as if she never existed.”

  Lord Locksley opened his mouth but no words came out.

  “Nothing’s changed, has it, Father? I will never live up to your expectations. We are too different, you and I. It’s best if I go my own way.”

  Lord Locksley’s shoulders slumped. For the first time in Robin’s memory, he looked defeated.

  “Where will you go?”

  Robin shrugged. “To my mother’s family, perhaps. Then, who knows?”

  He turned his back on his father and walked away. Lord Locksley didn’t try to follow.

  Back inside the castle, Robin was startled when a voice accosted him. He turned to see Richard, Crown Prince of England, hurrying towards him.

  “You are Robin of Locksley?”

  Robin suppressed a sigh. What now? All he wanted was to collect Will and go home.

  “Robin Hood, sire,” he said automatically. The prince raised his eyebrows but went on.

  “I saw you fight. Impressive for a boy your age.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I need men like you.”

  It was Robin’s turn to be surprised. “What for, sire?”

  “The Pope has issued permission for another crusade to the Holy Land. Those saracens are getting above themselves again. It is high time we claimed back Jerusalem and routed them once and for all.”

  Robin was still mystified. What did this have to do with him?

  “It sounds like a worthy cause, sire.”

  A fanatical gleam lit Richard’s eyes. “Indeed it is. I speak of the future, you understand, but we need recruits. I would like you to join us.”

  “Me?” Robin couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “I am not a knight, and since my breach with my father, I have no lands of my own.”

  Richard
waved this aside. “You have proven yourself a good fighter and a loyal countryman. Plus, there’ll be plenty of loot to be won. You will return a rich man. In the meantime, my father the king requires replacements for the guards he lost. You could rise high in his service.”

  Robin struggled for something to say. Service to the king? It was a purpose, at least, a future where there had been none before.

  “I…I need to think about it, sire.”

  Richard frowned. “Do not take too long. Report to Winchester soon. Mention my name when you come. I will put in a good word for you with the captain.”

  ***

  The pain in Will’s side was constant and unrelenting. He wasn’t looking forward to the journey back to Locksley. It had been almost worth it, though. Will didn’t think he would soon forget the look on Robin’s face as he had knelt next to him. The armour had cracked, revealing the heart beneath.

  Will knew it was foolish to hope. Robin was still grieving over Lucy. It would take a long time for that particular wound to heal, but he didn’t think he had imagined the tenderness in Robin’s eyes. He had no idea what the future held for either of them, but for now, he could be patient. He would settle for whatever Robin was willing or able to give him.

  The chamber door opened, and Robin came in.

  Will’s heartbeat quickened, but he kept his tone light. “So, what did His Lordship want?”

  Robin leaned against the wall. “I’ve managed to find transport. We can leave soon, but I think the surgeon should see you first. He can stitch that wound and dress it properly.”

  Will nodded, waiting. Finally unable to bear the suspense any longer, he scowled at Robin. “Well? What did he want?”

  “To lift my disinheritance. It seems now Lucy is dead, I am welcome back at Locksley Manor. I can resume my old life.”

  Will marvelled at how it was that a father could know his own son so little. “Reckon he was disappointed when you told him no.”

  Robin’s lips twitched. “He was not best pleased.”

  Will laughed. It immediately turned into a gasp as pain bit into his side.

  Robin started forward, but Will raised a hand, warding him off.

  “That isn’t all,” Robin said. “Richard sought me out.”