Page 14 of Queen of Sherwood

George’s lips thinned into a line. “I assure you, Sir Montford, our taxation efforts have not failed. On the contrary, Nottinghamshire is one of the sturdiest providers to the king.”

“Your scales have come up light.”

George tilted his head, aggravation clear on his face. “Would you have me stoke the flames of discontent even further, here, and risk more banditry, sir? For the prince’s whims?”

“So you do admit banditry has become a problem in the shire.”

“Not a problem.” George shook his head adamantly. “A nuisance like flies on a pig’s hide. Nothing a bit of dousing won’t fix.”

“And how do you plan to douse this particular hide, Sheriff?”

“With fire. Like everything else.”

At that, the Knight Templar paused. Crossed his burly arms over his chest.

George glanced over at me. “Isn’t that right, Sir Guy?”

I blinked, half-surprised he had called on me. Of course, it was only to bail him out of his unfortunate situation.

“Aye,” I said easily, setting myself into the cool temperament I had become known by. “The thieves of this county don’t have much longer. We are on their trail, even now, preparing to pounce.”

George’s eyes flashed wide at me while Amadeus’ eyes were also on me. When the knight’s gaze fell on the Sheriff again, George gave him another sickly smile. “You see? Well in hand.”

“That may be so, sirs, but we need proof of the matter. Talk is all well and good, yet we need an oath if I’m to take you seriously.”

“An oath?”

“To God. That the funds missing from the Templar’s treasury will be returned posthaste.”

George bowed his head. “Consider it done. Tell me the words and I’ll speak them.”

Amadeus analyzed my liege for a moment. His eyes swiveled over to me, as if he expected me to try and snatch his coin purse from his person.

There were few things I hated more on this earth than overzealous, self-righteous bastards who claimed to fight for a cause when they were so obviously motivated by the same thing that motivated all men: greed.

“The Order will join in the search to snuff out the bandits,” Amadeus Montford announced.

George sputtered. “Sir? I assure you, that’s not necessary.”

I hated to see him like this—a wet dog who couldn’t hold his own, sliding all over the place. Didn’t he know he had no need to call this man sir? He was the goddamn governor of this city! Just because the Templars only took orders from God and the pope didn’t mean he needed to suck this man’s holy cock to appease him.

“Knights are lining your towns and villages already, Sheriff George. When we help rid the scourge of banditry from your land, your coffers will grow from the increased taxation. As will ours. Everyone wins.”

Except we’ll have to deal with these smug bastards, which puts a serious chink in my plans.

Seemed I would have to develop new ones.

“Do you expect the government of Nottingham to subject ourselves to the rule of the Knights Templar?” George asked, a bit heavy-handedly.

The knight scoffed—perhaps it was a laugh? “Of course not. The Knights Templar would never presume to command your men. Just so long as you don’t stand in our way.”

“I suppose that can be arranged . . . with my captain, Sir Guy of Gisborne. Isn’t that right, Guy?”

I gave a noncommittal shrug. “Your will is my duty, sir.” In front of my body, my clasped hands tightened in my black gloves.

“Good,” Montford said. “Master de Newenham wishes to expand in England. Ridding the county of vermin will provide us much land to use ourselves, for noble purposes.”

Noble purposes like building churches, financial institutions, and bartering houses, no doubt.

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