Page 109 of Queen of Sherwood

I GRIMACED, TEARS FIGHTING against my eyelids. I tried to keep them back. This was just another blow to us, taking the wind out of the sails Little John had so masterfully flown for us.

“Fuck!” Will Scarlet bellowed. “No, goddammit!”

He ran to the bank of the river, alone, wading into the knee-deep water.

Behind him, higher on the bank, stood me and the rest of the camp. We all watched in silence, the energy of just a few minutes ago vanished.

A body floated in the water, facedown. Nestled between a few stones in the middle of the river, it was a gruesome sight to see how the running stream moved the body into the rocks, keeping it from releasing and floating downstream.

Will flipped the body over, though we all knew what to expect.

Griff’s glassy eyes stared up at Will, his lips blue, his face gray and bloodless.

Will lifted his head and, unable to control his rage, roared to the heavens.

It was Will’s anguish that broke me, and the tears finally won over and trickled down my cheeks.

Little John let out a heavy sigh next to me. In a low voice, he murmured, “I am so disappointed in the lad.”

I swiped my tears away, trying to control myself.

This was just another body to add to the death toll, and though Griff had been young, he had been a veteran. Much the Miller’s Son’s best friend, and the protector-apparent for poor Maria before last night.

For some reason, Will Scarlet had connected with Much and Griff more than most of the other lads in camp. Perhaps because he saw a bit of himself in them.

And now this.

“Disappointed?” I eked out, shaking my head. “He couldn’t go on without Maria or Much. He blamed himself for too much. Can you fault him for it?”

“He was young and foolish.” John grunted. “And now we’ve lost another strong fighter.”

The orphans from camp had huddled around Little John, finding him as their huge guardian.

John looked down to Enid and said, “Swear to me you won’t take the road Griff has taken, lass. I’ll promise I won’t, either. If the pain becomes too much to bear, you’ll talk to me, Robin, or Friar Tuck. Aye?”

Enid, face messy with tears, nodded diligently. “I promise, sir.”

“Good. Then our oath is bound. We share something sacred now, you and I, Enid.”

“Yes, s-sir.”

I flared my nostrils. I felt dead inside, which was such a contrast to the hopefulness I’d felt minutes ago during John’s speech.

Unlike Little John, however, I wasn’t angry with Griff. How could I be?

I was destroyed for him. My heart hurt.

John muttered, “Selfish lad,” and turned to leave, shaking his head.

I grabbed John by the arm and swung him around. “Selfish?” I seethed, baring my teeth.

“That’s what I said, little hope,” John shot back. “It might seem like the courageous thing to do, but it’s not.” He was furious behind his eyes. I could see it. As for Will, he still remained in the river, no one bothering him as his shoulders silently shook and he clutched Griff’s wet body in an embrace.

“I wished Griff had heard my words!” John wailed, throwing up his arms. “I was too late. As always, too late.”

Ah. So that’s it, then. More blame he places on himself.

John pointed over my shoulder, violently, and said, “Griff might have thought it was the only way to escape his grief, but he took the coward’s way out. All he did was leave behind his loved ones and the people who cared for him.”

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