Page 113 of Queen of Sherwood

“Who are you to say that to me, bastard?!”

George lost his temper in an instant. As he ever had.

“Any idea what the Merry Men want for Sutton in return?” I asked, tapping my chin while deflecting the subject away from me.

“The messenger had to escape before he saw Sutton’s fate—before a decision was made about his ransom. You needn’t worry about that, Guy, because you are in here. At my mercy.”

I smirked at him. “I’ve always been at your mercy, George.”

The Sheriff rolled his eyes. “So dramatic, Guy.”

I leaned forward, trying to rest my head against the bars, against his, but he popped up before I could.

“I have only ever tried to help you and work in your best interest, George. Whether that’s in the shadows or on the battlefield. You know that.”

“You betrayed me,” he scolded, spitting the words through gritted teeth. The man was becoming undone right before my eyes. “You made outlaws into allies, which makes you my enemy.”

“You’re better off without Sutton,” I explained. “You can be your own man again, George.”

“Sutton was a powerful, respected man. Now I must contend with his absence, while also dealing with the damned Knight Templar fool, Amadeus Montford. Do you think that self-righteous prick wants to listen to me whatsoever? No! He trusted Sutton, though, because he’s a holy man. Everyone trusted Sutton—”

“Except me.”

“Exactly!”

“I’m not wrong about him. The flesh trading, George? The hedging of your funds, draining of your coffers for his misdeeds and holy buildings? He’s simply a distraction.”

“You were simply jealous!” the Sheriff shouted. His voice echoed through the hall of the jailhouse.

His words struck me to the bone, harder than anything before it. George wasn’t wrong, though I’d never admit it.

Yes. I was jealous. I was jealous that he had taken your ear from me. That he whispered nothings to you and you listened to him, deciding not to trust me anymore.

We used to have a partnership. A relationship.

“With Sutton out of the picture,” I said lowly, “we can have what we once had, George. We can make Nottingham stronger under your rule—not under his.”

George slapped the bar in front of him, and I jolted.

With a growl, he spun around and marched away.

I called out to him before losing him. “I never turned against you, George. I fought for you. Don’t you see? Bishop Sutton was turning you into a stupid man. You need me, not Sutton. All I ever did was show my loyalty to you, in a way the bishop never could.”

The Sheriff froze, back to me. When he turned, his face softened for a flash, before going hard again. He did not reply to my lament.

I gripped the iron cage with both hands and stuck my head halfway through two bars. “What will you do with me?”

The Sheriff stopped at the door. “I’m still deciding your fate, Guy. You’ve made things complicated and difficult. It’s unfortunate our time together must end in treachery like this.”

“It doesn’t have to . . .”

George jabbed a finger toward me. He looked at me like I was a stranger, and that hurt most of all.

“I will leave you with this, Sir Guy of Gisborne. The Sheriff of Nottingham does not barter with thieves and brigands. No one can abduct a fucking bishop of England and get away with it without facing my wrath. The Merry Men can send their demands, yet I know where they are now. And if I have to march an army into that fucking forest and burn them out of their ramshackle homes, then that’s exactly what I’ll do.”

Chapter 30

Guy of Gisborne

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