Page 20 of Queen of Sherwood

“Gentleman Landon.” The Knight stepped toward Landon, arms still crossed. “If you are Bishop Sutton’s subject and deputy, and consider yourself as devout as you claim, then you would know you have no standing here. You may have the law of the land on your side, but I have the law of God on mine. And the writ of ownership.” He tapped his chest, where the scroll was tucked away.

Landon frowned, dipping his head. “Sir, there must be a way—”

Sir Charles’ fist lashed out and caught Landon in the stomach, who doubled over and coughed, crumpling to his knees and grabbing his belly. “It seems you people have the idea this is a negotiation. It’s not.”

The townsfolk behind Landon gasped in unison, two women crying out.

A rasp of steel swung my head to Will Scarlet, who had quickly drawn his blades. Across from him, Initiate Brandt had his greatsword held in front of him, the giant blade gleaming with morning sunlight.

“That is quite enough,” Will Scarlet said in a brooding, dangerous tone. “You have proven who you really are.”

Sir Charles spun on him, nostrils flaring. “You defy God, William Scadlock the Younger.”

“So be it.” Will pointed his blades at the younger man. “I challenge your initiate to a duel for the land. Will you cower?”

Initiate Brandt eyed Charles. The older knight gave an almost-imperceptible nod.

“No, you godless rogue.” Brandt smiled cruelly at Will. “I will accept.”

Chapter 6

Robin

The crowd dispersed from William Elder’s estate, but only so they could go round up their friends for the exciting upcoming event.

Will Scarlet would be fighting Initiate Brandt, a Templar Knight.

I shivered at the thought. There was no way this could end well. If Will won, we would make the Templar Knights our enemies, and they were much too powerful to take on with our measly gang, or even with the Oak Boys alliance. If Will lost, well . . . I didn’t want to think about that.

I couldn’t lose Will to this nonsense. I knew it wasn’t nonsense to him, yet I also knew bloodshed was not the answer.

The duel would take place in the village square in an hour, once the morning fog dissipated.

Friar Tuck went to speak with Will first, crowding the younger man and scolding Rosco and Griff for not standing by their leader while he argued with Sir Charles and Initiate Brandt. I couldn’t hear much of their conversation, twenty paces away, but I didn’t need to: Will’s body language spoke volumes. He was guarded, tense, and closed-off.

I glowered up at Little John. “Are you happy you stopped me, John? I should have intervened!”

Little John had the decency to look shamefaced, wincing and rubbing the back of his neck. “Aye, I’m thinking you’re right. I apologize, little star. It’s a force of habit.”

I opened my mouth to argue. Then closed it. Force of habit . . . to protect me. How can I be angry about that?

As usual, Little John made it nearly impossible to stay incensed at him. I knew I was only projecting my rage, because Will was the one who, as usual, was getting under my skin.

“What do we do?” I asked him.

“You’re the leader of the Merry Men, Robin. That’s your call. Perhaps speak with your brother.”

My brother, I noticed, had vanished. I could have sworn he was there during the argument, but now he was nowhere to be seen.

Furrowing my brow, I looked downhill toward the village center, and spotted Robert speaking with a few of the peasants. I massaged my chin, wondering what he was doing.

“I suppose that’s how he has such a good rapport with the people here,” John said, joining me to watch Robert converse with the townsfolk. “He’s more concerned with their wellbeing than he is a pointless fight.”

“It’s not a pointless fight to Will.”

“Sounds like you’re edging for him to do it.”

I flared my nostrils. “I’m not! It’s just . . . I understand his predicament. Would you stand down if it was your father’s estate being illegally stolen from you?”

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