Page 23 of Queen of Sherwood

So I shoved him with all my might, to the side, without thinking.

Will stumbled off, not quite falling over—

As a sword hacked through the branch behind him with a wicked snap. It slashed into the space where he’d just been and vibrated the very air in a great overhand arc.

I stepped forward, still acting on instinct and reflexes, and my hand darted to my waist.

The sword pulled back for another swing—

Just as I yanked a dagger from my hip sheath, stepped into the shadow’s guard, and stabbed head-high into the darkness, all in one fluid motion.

My blade sank into soft flesh.

A gurgle. A gasp. Wide eyes staring down at me. Blood spilling down my knuckles, over my wrist and arm.

I stared into the wide, startled eyes of Initiate Brandt. The whites were so big I could see into his soul. I recognized the fear there, the life spilling out of him, the regret, the confusion—

And I reveled in it.

For a flash of time, a grin sliced my lips as I watched the man spit blood bubbles and struggle to stay standing, his hand going to his throat as I pulled my blade out. More blood spurted.

Sick darkness took hold of me, like an extreme blooming of the odd sensation I’d felt just moments before when I’d had my hand around Will’s throat and daydreamed of all the ways I could end him.

Unlike Will, I wanted this man to die. And I wanted his death to be brutal and painful, like all the deaths I was sure he had been responsible for.

“Robin!” Will cried out, and pushed me aside to take my place in front of the man.

I stumbled onto my ass, blinking, stretching my arms behind me to catch myself, and stared up in horror as the dripping dagger fell from my hand.

Will backpedaled, knees bent, as Brandt staggered forward out of the trees, into the small clearing. Bleeding like a stuck pig, and making similar sounds, too. Tears poured down his cheeks, mixing with his bloody handprints where he held the fatal wound I’d scored on his neck.

Brandt looked at Will one more time, shook his head, tried to say something, and failed. He burst a bubble of blood from his lips, gasped, and collapsed in a heap in front of us.

I crab-walked backward, snapping out of my sinister reverie. With a yelp, I stared down in shock at the dead Templar Knight. His cloak billowed down slower than the rest of him, only finally coating his body like a carriage tarp, hiding the worst of the damage from us.

I croaked past dry lips.

Will stared down at me, wide-eyed, and reached out to take my hand. I stumbled to my feet, and wrapped my arms around him in a hug.

“What . . . what have I just done?”

Tears spilled from my eyes.

Will Scarlet tangled his hand in my hair, pulling me close. He put his cheek against my forehead and coddled me, consoled me, as we embraced. “You saved my life, little thorn.”

He seemed almost as surprised as I felt.

Memories of my past failures swarmed through me. This was not how this was supposed to go!

I had to fight to keep them stuffed down. To remind myself this wasn’t our doing, and bad luck happened to even the most well-intentioned people.

I didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know how to leave these trees, especially after everything I had just told Will.

Initiate Brandt had come to try and end the duel before it even began. He must have watched us escape into the thicket and calculated he could assassinate both of us and be done with it.

My mind whirled. Does Sir Charles know what Brandt planned? Is he privy to Brandt’s deceit? What will happen once we return to the village? We’re both too distraught to act like nothing happened.

I looked down at my trembling hands. Bright red blood seeped through my fingers. I swallowed again, harder, then clenched my eyes and wished this would all go away.

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