Page 141 of Queen of Sherwood

And the third ripped my tunic from my neck, taking my cloak with it.

The air brushed chill against my bared breasts.

I shrieked in rage, in fear, knowing what was coming.

But then the third soldier stepped aside, while the other two kept me held down.

Shamefully, my nipples pebbled in the cold night. I stared up at the shadow that descended over me—

Sheriff George, his white grin slicing through the dark silhouette of his body. He went to a crouch like a wolf, a mindless animal, and crawled over my body.

I whimpered when his treacherous face crept inches from mine. He spoke softly in my ear, keeping me pinned with his knees as he straddled me.

“I’ll let you die soon enough, Robin of Loxley. But after how much frustration and annoyance you’ve caused me? I’m going to have my fun with you, first . . .”

Chapter 39

Will Scarlet

Our company fought courageously. Heroically. I was proud of our small group . . . yet it wouldn’t be enough.

Even I was starting to tire and grow wary of our chances here. The glade had turned into a bloody pit of death and carnage. We had killed nearly half their men, and they still pressed.

Every one of us was engaged in some form of fight for our lives. I fought back-to-back with Little John, until we were separated by the natural rhythms of the battle.

Then I was alone, grunting angrily and cutting into enemies where I could. They were growing wise to my tactics, and my twin blades were starting to find fewer and fewer open spots of flesh.

Then there was Sir Gregory, who was a man on a quest to redeem himself. To show everyone why he had been such a callous, vicious warrior in the past.

He fought like a champion.

The Knight Templar moved slowly but methodically. His armor was nearly impossible to penetrate.

Gregory’s sword, though? If he made contact with even one strike from that massive weapon, the day would be won. The Templar would fall, and the rest would follow.

This Amadeus Montford character was a master swordsman of the Templar Knights. He was a captain who lived by his own ridiculous rules. He had caused undue stress and burden to our people—to my people in Ravenshead, after sending Initiate Brandt and Sir Charles to collect my father’s land.

Those two got what they deserved.

And now it must be Sir Montford’s turn.

I stalked toward the glade, fending off enemies.

He saw me coming and turned his body aside to put Sir Gregory between us.

I didn’t care if they considered this a duel. A duel for what? There was no honor in this, no accolades. This was a battle for life and death, and our little fucking thorn was missing.

We couldn’t keep wasting time on this! So I would jump in and slay Montford when I saw an opening.

“No, Scarlet!” Sir Gregory yelled.

I was over his shoulder, yet he had felt me coming. Perhaps it was preternatural instincts. Maybe he just knew how I operated.

I gritted my teeth together, baring them to the enemy. “Then finish him, old man!”

The Templar Knight bellowed in response. He swung his sword in huge arcs, and Gregory was barely able to parry them before gliding back on his back foot and preparing for another onslaught.

“Your niece is missing, dammit!” I yelled.

---