Page 152 of Queen of Sherwood

A pack of wolves, protecting our escape, baring their jagged, dripping jaws.

I only had one answer for where they’d come from, and why they weren’t attacking us.

“Fuck!” shouted a soldier I couldn’t see. “Retreat! Fuck this! Ahhh!”

The sound of boots started to recede into the darkness. It was replaced completely by the pitter-pattering of paws on the soil.

Will and I made it to a landmark oak tree we both recognized. We peeled around it to head east.

Behind us, the howling continued, chilling my blood.

A black face stepped into our path, white braids bobbing. “Lady Robin! Scarlet!”

Wulfric ambled into view, his face stricken and coated in perspiration, like the older man had been running as fast as we had.

“Wulfy!” I cried out, using Bess’ sobriquet for the healer.

Whinnying filled my ears.

The healer pulled two horses along by their reins, one in either hand: Mercy and Will’s mare.

“You came for us,” I said to Wulfric, breathless and ready to collapse to the ground. I just needed to get on Mercy’s saddle, first.

Wulfric nodded sternly. “Of course. I followed your tracks, lass. Once everyone found out where you had gone, we prepared. The entire camp is armed and ready for battle, should it come.”

Will said, “It won’t come tonight, healer.”

Wulfric pursed his lips and nodded. “Very well. Then shall we return you two home?”

“What about the others?” I asked. “Have you caught sight of—”

“Aye, Lady Robin. Little John and the others arrived at the location of your stashed horses just minutes ago. Seemed you two took the long way around.” He smiled that white-toothed grin for a moment, before faltering and staring at the ground with a sinking face. “Your mates carried the body of your uncle between them. My condolences, lass.”

Pain tugged my heart, threatening to close in and shut me down.

Steeling myself, I said, “We mourn later, Wulfric. Let us be off. Thank you for bringing our steeds to us.”

“Of course, Lady Robin.”

He handed off Mercy’s bit to me, and the strap of Will’s steed to him.

As we mounted, I noticed Wulfric wasn’t getting on a horse. “What about you? Where’s your steed, Wulfric?”

The man waved us on. “Go. I have to check on my children, lass. I’ll be all right.”

His children. The wolves.

I didn’t like it. I’d seen too much death tonight.

When I opened my mouth to argue, Wulfric held up a palm. “I will be fine. I will return, because now I have something to return to.” He winked. “Bess would flay my hide if she learned I got myself into trouble.”

He snickered and turned to vanish into the woods.

“Healer,” Will called out, leaning forward in his saddle.

Wulfric looked at us over his shoulder, brow raised.

“How did you find out?” Will asked. “You said you followed our tracks . . . but who told everyone where we were going?”