Page 138 of Queen of Sherwood

“I’m on it. Up the hill?”

I grimaced. It was hard to speak. We needed help here, too. How was I supposed to tell Alan-a-Dale, that courageous, foolish, gorgeous man . . . that we needed someone who could protect Robin once they found her? What was Alan supposed to do if he ran into soldiers of his own heading up that hill? Die a needless death?

He could just as easily do that here, beside his brothers.

“Tuck?” Alan pressed.

“We have to finish this first. Make sure we get out alive. We can’t keep scattering.” A pit formed in my stomach. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him that I needed a better fighter to find Robin. “There are still more soldiers to kill.”

Alan clenched his jaw. He studied me hard, finally giving me a firm nod. It was a nod of understanding. We’d known each other too long for him to not pick up what I couldn’t bring myself to say.

“Then we will kill them,” he said simply.

I nodded and swayed to my feet, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Like knights of old, Alan. Thank you for saving me. You’re a better fighter than I gave you credit for.”

He snorted. “You tell such pretty lies, dear Tuck. We both know I’m shit at this whole thing.”

I tossed him a wicked grin, then looked over and watched Sir Gregory fight the Templar Knight. They danced in circles, the arcs of their greatswords huge, mighty, and violent. Their blows rang out through the forest.

John, Will, Robert, and Briggs needed our help. They were trying to fend off the soldiers who remained, stepping into the glade.

With a wince and a grunt, I pushed myself onto my feet. I wobbled for a moment in place, then clanked my knuckles together and headed forward, trying desperately to get to my men.

They needed me.

Worse than that, Robin needed me.

How were we supposed to get to her?

Chapter 38

Robin

My eyes danced from enemy to enemy.

I cursed myself for leaving the safety of my men. However unsafe it was down the hill in that vicious battle, I was entirely worse off up here, alone.

I was a fool, as usual. And now it would cost me my life, I knew, because Sir Guy didn’t seem as appreciative and cordial as he’d been when he held me captive.

His dark eyes gleamed in the moonlight. Guy stood in front of his tent, arms crossed, as his three grunts circled me with their swords drawn.

The trio of soldiers snickered at me. I tried to face each of them, but they fanned out so I had to quarter-spin over and over to keep them in front of me.

There was no way I could take three experienced guards at once. My heart plummeted, knowing this was the end.

My Merciless Men would be so pissed when they found my dead body up here, riddled with sword strikes and garish wounds. They would curse the heavens and hopefully wreak havoc in my name.

That was, of course, if they survived the battle downhill. When I had left, it wasn’t looking good. I couldn’t imagine it was going to get any better.

I wanted nothing more than to be down there, dying with them. Up here on the cold hilltop, I had to fight back tears. The closeness of my mates was imperative to me, and I couldn’t imagine losing them without seeing their faces one last time.

“You had done so well for so long,” Guy said matter-of-factly, shaking his head. “Making all the right moves, little mouse.”

I blinked at him, staring into his handsome, gaunt face over the shoulder of one of the guards.

“What changed?” he asked, tilting his head. He hadn’t even drawn his weapon, because he clearly saw me as no threat. “Did you simply get impatient?”

I bared my teeth at them all. These fucking bastards. My legs were bent, and I felt like a caged, feral animal in that moment. No way to escape, no way to win. Defeat and anguish curled inside me, taking residence in my heart and soul.