Lion Heart

by A. C. Gaughen

  Thinking it were for good luck or some such thing, I did, and his mouth captured mine, tilting and twisting and opening, dragging me away into it. I didn’t know when he let go of the arrow, but I felt the bow brush my back as his hands touched me slow and careful, wary of pressing too hard and hurting me where the bruises were.

  Threading my arms round his neck, I broke the kiss. “Rob, the stag,” I reminded him.

  He nodded toward the clearing.

  Godfrey and David were trussing it up, but there weren’t no need to cut its throat—Rob had shot the beast through its eye.

  Its eye.

  I pushed him back with a grin. “Posturing braggart, show-off peacock!” I accused.

  “If by that you mean I’m the best damn archer you’ve ever seen and you’d like to reward me with a kiss,” he said, drawing me back to him. “Then I accept. And yes, I will continue to give you generous lessons to achieve my epic—nay, legendary—skill.”

  I kissed him.

  He were, in fact, the best damn archer I’d ever seen.

  Getting down the tree were worse than getting up. I thought it would be fine, but while I were searching for one of my first footholds my hand lost grip and I fell to a lower branch. Rob were there quick to catch me before I fell lower.

  From there he guided me down, stepping first, holding my waist as I followed.

  At the bottom, he jumped from the tree and held out his arms, and without hesitating, I jumped into them. He caught me, like I had absolute faith that he would. My match, my bandmate in all things.

  He put me on the ground and I felt the breath run out from my lungs.

  My match.

  “You have the strangest look on your face,” he murmured to me, brushing my hair back. “What are you thinking about?”

  Shy, I smiled, but I turned away from him. Godfrey and David took the animals back to Nottingham to dress and cut to give to the kitchens, and Rob and I went about gathering up arrows. I found my first—though sadly not last—stray buried deep into a tree trunk.

  I tried to pull it out, and it wouldn’t budge. I twisted, pulling harder, and wedged my foot against the tree.

  The arrow popped free, and I fell back, only to see the head—the hardest bit to replace—were still lodged in there.

  “Damn you,” I cursed the tree. “Give that back or I’ll chop you down!” I threatened, wrapping my sleeve round the arrowhead to pull at it without cutting myself.

  “I mean it!” I growled, tugging harder. “I will cut you up and sell you for firewood!”

  I gasped, letting go of the tree and staring at it.

  Staring at all of them.

  Hundreds of trees. All in the king’s forest. “Rob!” I yelled.

  He were looking at the arrowhead already, and strode toward it. “If I pull it out do I become King of All the Britons?” he teased.

  I shook my head as he balled up a bit of his cloak and wrapped it round the arrowhead. “No, Rob, the trees!”

  He looked frightened for a moment. “Did they threaten you back? I’ve heard things about the Green Man.” Then he grinned at me, teasing again.

  “Dammit, Rob, the forest. The trees, the deer, the peat—there’s no one with enough money to buy a manor, but firewood? Wood for building? Meat to feed their families, peat to make a fire?”

  The arrowhead gave and Rob held it in his hand, staring at it. He twisted round, taking it in the same way I had. Adding tree upon tree upon tree. He took a deep breath, his eyes wide.

  “Good Lord, Scarlet.”

  “It will take us a few days, a week at the most, with all the knights and the men from the villages,” I said.

  “A day or two more to sell it,” he said.

  “We’ll have the full amount before Eleanor even arrives. Prince John won’t be able to touch us,” I told him.

  He didn’t say any more. He just caught me up and kissed me.

  He leaned me against a tree, kissing me, and my mind spun out, thinking of being alone with him, of marrying him, of touching him in a way I were so curious about.

  I pulled away from his kiss. Before any of that, there were something I had to tell him.

  He looked at me strange, but I ducked out of his arms, walking away from the clearing.

  “Scarlet?” he called. I heard him move behind me, his steps slow and even, following where I led. He could have caught me easy, but he didn’t—he let me lead.

  Deep into the forest, it seemed he grew impatient, and I heard his steps coming closer to mine. Never looking back, I started running. This were what I wanted, to run away not from the good things, but the bad ones, to always be able to feel a tiny speck of free and unfettered and still keep the things I loved.

  Still keep him.

  “Scarlet!” he yelled, confused, but he ran after me.

  He were faster and he ran up beside me, his face worried and frowning, but I just kept running, and he ran beside me.

  It had been too long since I’d run in the woods. My feet knew their way over the wood floor—thank God I hadn’t lost that, for it were fair hard to learn back—but the rest of my body’d forgotten. My lungs hurt and my legs burned.

  I ran faster. I were never afraid of pain.

  Sweating hard, I knew we were close and I ached for my destination. Stumbling a bit to do it, I tore the tunic off over my head. Rob were staring at me.

  I started to untie the shirt, and Rob tripped on a log, flattening on the ground with a loud curse.

  Laughing, I slowed for a moment but continued on. He could catch up.

  I kicked off my boots, and Rob were struggling to regain his lost ground and drop his clothing at the same time.

  My men’s pants fell off me, and I jumped onto the big rock that jutted out into Thoresby Lake. The loose, long men’s shirt just bare covered the important bits of me.

  Tearing with my teeth at the bandages on my hands, I cast them off and dived into the water as Rob made the rock.

  The lake were still cold as winter, the near-ice of it stealing my breath and slamming through every inch of my skin. I hung under the water for as long as I could, willing the cold to strip away all the awful things that had happened since I’d been here last, all the pains and new marks on my body, till I couldn’t feel them.

  I felt Rob’s entry into the water, and came up for air as he did.

  He whipped his hair out of his eyes, leaving it to splay across his forehead like a hedgehog’s spines. I swam to him, smoothing his hair back.

  He kissed me. “Why did you bring me here, Scar?”

  “Because I love this place,” I told him. “Do you remember when you brought me here? When you told me I should marry John?”

  He frowned. “Not my finest moment.”

  I grinned. “No.” I touched his cheek, then pulled back to use my hands to tread water. “But you brought me here when I was hurt and confused. Like you knew how much I loved it.”

  He nodded and caught one of my hands, looking at the healing cuts and swollen burns. The cold water felt awful good for them. “Are you hurt and confused now, Scar?”

  I ignored that, taking a deep breath and kicking harder against the shivers. “There’s something that I need to tell you,” I whispered to him. “Something I won’t ever tell another man. Not ever. So if you decide you don’t want to marry me after this, I’m not marrying Essex. I’m not marrying anyone, do you understand?”

  He looked confused and a bit frightened, but he nodded. “What is it, Scar?”

  “That night before Gisbourne were found dead,” I told him, and he looked at me, eyes bluer than the water we were in. “He changed his mind.”

  Rob frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “He decided he didn’t want the annulment anymore,” I said fast, in a rush. “He decided he would make me stay his wife, because he could use me to gain influence from Richard.”

  Rob’s arms were well underneath the water, and though I could feel his legs kicking, pushing wa
ter round, he looked still. “Make you.”

  “And I were hurt,” I said, raising my hand like it were an excuse. “And he pushed me up against the wall—” I stopped, shaking for reasons that weren’t cold and feeling like I were going to cry.

  Rob gathered me up, his body warm in the cold water, and I felt like I could breathe again. His breath rushed over me, harsh, his eyes closed tight, trying to ward off the things I were telling him. “I will never make you set foot in that room again,” he whispered.

  “I got my knife,” I continued, talking to the crook of his neck.

  He hugged me tighter, kicking for the both of us, and his hands held me up, curled on my back. “You did?” he asked.

  I nodded. “And I managed to call for Winchester. And he kept Gisbourne away from me.”

  Rob took my chin from his shoulder. “You mean—he didn’t—”

  There were bare enough time to shake my head once before Rob kissed me, soft and gentle, so distracting sweet that we both stopped kicking, and our heads slipped under the water, such cold on my skin and such heat on my lips.

  Rob pulled back, kicking hard to bring us up, holding me against him. He held me tight, kissing my shoulder as he hugged me. “I’m sorry,” he said. “You knew I’d be too angry—I would have killed him. I’m sorry I wasn’t in a state to protect you. I’m sorry you had to call for Winchester, and not me.”

  I shivered. “I thought you’d be angry.”

  “At myself, love.” He kissed my shoulder again. “At myself.”

  Sighing against him, I looked round, realizing it were growing darker. “Sun’s going down,” I whispered to him.

  “One hundred fifty-six,” he said absent-like, letting one arm loose of me to start to swim toward shore.

  “What?” I said, tugging on his hand.

  He looked at me and grinned. “One hundred fifty-six.”

  I’ll wait. Every sunset, every day. I’ll count them all until you’re mine. My perfect wife. My only wife.

  “The numbers. The letters—you were counting the sunsets,” I said as I realized.

  His grin grew broader, wider, fuller, like he were pulling stars down from Heaven and tucking them into his smile. “You got the letters.”

  “Only recently,” I whispered. “I haven’t . . . I haven’t read them yet. I saw the numbers, but I didn’t know.”

  And then he kissed me, and stars flooded through me, glittering and dancing and heating me with their fire as he pulled me to shore. He pulled me up onto the rock, and he kissed me until it were dark.

  CHAPTER

  When we got back to the castle, I went to Bess’s room. She let me hold the baby, and said she were feeling much better, and when I asked her, quiet, how one goes about planning a wedding in secret and in a few days’ time, she shrieked and covered her mouth, laughing with me.

  The next morning the work started in earnest. I were out of clean clothes and Rob gave me some of his to wear. There were something about wearing his clothes that felt even closer between us, and I smiled again with my secret that he weren’t much aware of yet—I would marry him. I were ready to marry him.

  We rode out to the forest, Rob and I sharing a horse and snugged close together on it, his hand spanning my waist and keeping me to him.

  I covered his hand and threaded my fingers through his. I always wanted to be close to him.

  Most of the shire were there already by the time we arrived, but many more people were drifting in on the roads. We met in Edwinstowe at the heart of the forest, and Rob and Much stood together and started doling out tasks.

  Many of the women and children were sent to the places where peat grew, thick layers of rich-smelling moss that would burn in a fire for near as long as a wooden beam. It could be cut out of embankments and sold in bricks. Peat were expensive stuff, and always sold well at market. It weren’t heavy or dangerous to pull it out either, so the women and little ones were good for it.

  The biggest men were sent to pull down a few trees, away from the rest of us in case they happened to fall wrong. Godfrey went off with them.

  And then there were the hunters. Rob nodded to me with a grin for this, and I smiled back. The Clarke boys cleaved quick to me, and even Missy Morgan ran over to me, eager to hunt with me. I laughed. “We have to split up,” I told them. “Teams of two, a good shot and someone to carry the animals.”

  “I’m better at skinning them,” Missy said.

  I smiled. “That can be a separate job too.”

  Rob slid his arm around me. “Hunt with me?”

  Putting my hands on his chest, I pushed him off a bit with a teasing grin. “That’s not a good idea.”

  “You’re a better spot and I’m a better shot, and you can practice your shooting,” he said. “Besides, I think it’s fairly well known we’re an unbeatable team,” he said, darting in for a quick kiss.

  “Kissing doesn’t count as hunting,” Will Clarke said. We turned to him, and he were frowning serious.

  “Exactly,” I said, trying not to grin as I pushed Rob off.

  “Rob!” Much yelled. “Scar! Try setting a good example, please?”

  Will were still in front of me. “Why don’t you and your brothers go with Missy, Will?”

  He turned to Missy and his face turned redder than the ribbons I liked. “Fine,” he grunted.

  The peat and wood were loaded up on carts to be taken to market, but the meat were sold off to butchers in the neighboring towns who could resell it on their own. The hunters all ended a bit early, and the little ones took some of the meat back to the castle. Rob and I took the rest to sell, getting back to the castle as everyone were eating, tired but looking less frightened than they had in a long while.

  It felt like sun finally breaking through storm clouds.

  Rob went back to his room with a glare toward David, and I took Much (Bess insisted, since she still needed to rest and couldn’t help) and Missy Morgan aside and asked them to come with me to the forest.

  David strode over to us, frowning. “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “There’s going to be a wedding,” Missy crowed.

  “A secret wedding, Missy,” Much reminded her gentle.

  She blushed and blinked her eyes slow at him. “Sorry.”

  “A wedding, my lady?” David demanded. “The queen—”

  “Won’t know,” I told him. “Now if you’re my knight, I need you to help.”

  He frowned again. “As you wish, my lady. But surely this is women’s work.”

  I frowned too. “Perhaps, I just . . . I don’t know many women. Fondly, at least.”

  “I can take care of that,” Missy told me, smiling.

  “Remember it’s secret,” Much and I said at once.

  She laughed. “I know. Let’s go to the forest, then!” she said.

  We did. Before we were done the first night, Missy also got Ellie and Mariel, Bess’s two barmaid friends from the inn, to help out. Though Ellie gave me a bit of a saucy wink, she never made fun of the things I didn’t know as she started to order us all about.

  We hunted one more day, and then didn’t hunt the next. The butchers round Nottingham wouldn’t be able to buy more meat so soon, and we let the littler ones hunt small animals to feed the workers. Rob went to help with the tree folk, and I went to cut peat with the women and children.

  Down in the mud and muck my knife kept slipping from the weak grip of my half hand and I gave up, hacking at it with the full hand only. I had spent so long in the stillness of prison, I’d forgotten just how much I needed this hand for. I’d forgotten just what Prince John had taken away from me.

  It were late in the hazy warm of the afternoon when we heard a crack and a boom. The women all lifted their heads and turned like a pack of gulls, and I sprang up and ran for the sound.

  Much and a whole group of workers got there ’bout the time I did, called over by yelling men. Everyone were hollering, throwing their hands about, and pointing at one ano
ther, gathered round a downed tree that had taken two others in its path, and from what I could see, landed on at least three men.

  “Rob?” I cried. “Rob!” I hated the girlish shriek there were in my voice, but I couldn’t help it none as I scrabbled round the trunk, looking for him.

  “Scar,” he said, hands catching my shoulders as I turned.

  Relief choked me as I hugged him overtight, clinging to him. “Christ and his Saints, Rob,” I breathed into him.

  He kissed me quick, and we broke apart, looking at the damage. Two men were close together and the third were farther down. “Cut the trees,” he ordered. He started barking men’s names and indicated the three sections to cut so that the trunks would be small enough to lift. “Much!” he said, pointing to the men. Much nodded and moved quick, overseeing the cuts the axes were aiming for.

  The men were crying out with every hack of the ax, and I turned to the gathering women and young folk. “Rocks,” I said, pointing. “And the logs they’ve already cut. Wedge them next to the men so the weight’s off a bit,” I told them, grabbing an armful of wood myself. We built up little walls on either side of the pinned men, pushing and heaving till it pressed the trunk up, ever so little.

  My heart kept pounding hard right up till it were late at night and the last man came free. The first two had broken their arms, I reckoned, but he were the worst. He could bare stand.

  “Here,” I said, and looped his arm round my neck, hugging close to him and holding him up. I held him tight and he groaned, slipping from my arms.

  I yelped as he fell to the ground, and Rob and the others tried to haul him back up. He resisted, and coughed once. A gush of blood came from his mouth. I dropped to my knees and the other men stepped back a bit. Trembling, I rearranged myself around him and knelt by his head, laying his head gentle on my knees. I wiped the blood from his mouth, dashing the red on my legs and wiping his mouth again.

  His name were Thomas Percy, and he were so young. Bare twenty-and-two, only a few months older than Rob. He were handsome—all the Percys were, their hair like corn silk and their eyes so soft and brown they looked like a puppy’s. “Rob. Robin?” he said, and his voice were thick, caught up in his throat and wet.