Page 149 of Queen of Sherwood

“Robin,” my brother said, his voice cracking. “We need . . . to go.”

I looked over my shoulder, noticing his eyes had moved up to the hill out of the trees. There, above the canopies of the trees in the distance, scouring down the middle of the hill, were torchlights moving in our direction. They flickered on the hillside and looked like they danced in the sky itself, coupling with the stars.

“We aren’t leaving him,” I said, putting a hand to my uncle’s cold knuckles.

Robert’s face firmed. “No. We’re not.”

Everyone moved in tandem at the directive. John acted first, without complaint, and gripped Uncle Gregory under his arms. Tuck and Briggs moved to his feet, each of them taking a leg.

My heart broke all over again when the men lifted the dead weight of my uncle and I saw how his body sagged. His soul was gone, leaving in its wake a shell. Now, he was simply a heap of ruined flesh and armor.

The trio lifting Gregory grunted as they hurried toward the southern copse of trees, which would lead back to the open pasture filled with sleeping horses, and eventually our own steeds.

It was a far way to go, especially carrying a weighty dead body with us. I had to think practically about this.

I watched as Robert kneeled in front of Gregory’s greatsword, almost like he was praying, and traced his fingers across the flat of the blade. Then he swooped it off the ground with both hands, stood, and nodded to me before running off toward John, Tuck, Briggs, and Gregory.

As if reading my mind, Will Scarlet came up next to me, and Alan-a-Dale next to him. All three of us saw how the trio of men at the other end of the glade struggled to shuffle along while awkwardly carrying Gregory.

“The soldiers will catch up to us,” Will murmured in my ear. “There’s no way they make it back to the horses with your uncle in tow. They’re living a fantasy.”

“Aye,” Alan answered. “Fantasy is my jurisdiction. And the little badger is correct. As noble as it is to bring Gregory back with us . . .”

When the minstrel trailed off, I scowled at him. “What do you have in mind?” I asked Will.

We started toward the rest of our group, not too fast. Behind us, the cries of soldiers and clattering of armor filled the night sky, growing louder. They were getting closer. Will was right: We’d never make it back to the horses before they caught up with us. Not with Gregory.

Slowly, Will’s lips curved in a wicked smirk. “Remember when I tested your knowledge of the forest during our training?”

“Yes,” I snapped, eyes narrowing. “When you chased me, tackled me, and ripped the clothes from my body.”

Alan lifted a finger, humming. “I remember, too. Quite exhilarating.” When we both stared daggers at him, he shrugged innocently. “What? I was watching from the wildflowers, remember?”

“I’d do it all over again, little thorn, if you’d give me the chance,” Will said.

My brow furrowed. We reached the tree line and ducked out of the glade, into the stuffy woods. Somewhere ahead were the rest of our crew, grunting along as they walked with Gregory, paused to take a breath, and then continued on.

I loved them for what they were doing.

I worried it would get them killed, though.

“What are you trying to say, Will?”

“Let’s test your knowledge again, lass, to give our comrades some assistance. Except this time, I’ll help you, instead of hurting you.”

“Hurting me?” I scoffed incredulously. “We both enjoyed that, Scarlet. As if you could ever hurt me.”

His eyes twinkled roguishly. So did mine, I reckoned. We both smiled.

“As you say, little thorn.” His voice was a low, guttural rasp, as if he could hardly control himself when he stared at me and we talked like this.

Alan’s eyes swiveled between our faces. “Are you two about to fuck? At a time like this? Kinky, which I’m all for, except wholly inapprop—”

“Shut up, dandelion.”

I snorted, smiling cruelly. Will brought that out of me—the darker bits of life that I loved to embrace.

“Remember what you said to me back then?” Will asked.

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