Page 4 of Queen of Sherwood

Bess inclined her chin. “Always is, Rob.”

I stared at Bess’ face with a mixture of awe and confusion. With her gentle, wrinkled face and round features, coupled with her dirty apron and dress, she looked like a grandmother, not a wartime advisor.

“It’s not polite to stare, young lady,” she scolded me with another smile.

I ducked my head, blinking and burning. “Apologies, ma’am. It’s just—”

“What, Robin,” Robert interjected, “did you think you were the only woman capable of making tough decisions for a group of rambunctious men?”

I shook my head adamantly. “No! It’s just . . . unexpected, is all.”

“Bess is arguably the most valuable member of the Oak Boys, sister.”

Uncle Gregory said, “The one who provides meals to the troops is not to be underestimated in any army.”

“Here, here,” Friar Tuck grumbled.

I shot a narrow-eyed look at him.

“She has an innate understanding of the goings-on and temperament of our people,” Gregory continued. “Because she overhears them during the most sacred times of the day or night: breakfast and supper.”

I had never thought of it in such terms, and I bowed my head in understanding. “Now that you mention it in such a way, Friar Tuck provides much the same for the Merry Men. He understands them, perhaps better than anyone else.”

Tuck flashed a smile. “You flatter me, little heathen.”

“It’s the truth, Tuck.”

“Speaking of food,” Bess interrupted, flapping her hand at the tray of mugs. “That’s not ale in them cups. It’s the last of the soup.” When everyone glanced over at her, she added, “You’ll need to fortify yourselves for these talks, I’ve learned.” With a sage nod, she left it at that.

Tuck leaned forward, grunting as he grabbed a mug. “Don’t mind if I do,” he said excitedly, and quickly started slurping the contents of his mug. “Mmm. Exquisite even lukewarm, ma’am. I have much to learn.”

Robert chuckled and smiled at me. “She’s also the matron of the Oak Boys, if you couldn’t tell. No one disrespects Bess Cook.”

Bess nodded her head. “Here, here,” she said confidently, mimicking Tuck and making him blush. “I could teach you a thing or two about my ways, young man. First we need to get to that point.”

It was funny, I thought, Bess calling Tuck a “young man,” since he was old enough to be my father. She probably considered me little more than a youngling.

“Then let’s get to it,” Robert said, lacing his fingers together on the table and putting his forearms down. He faced me, making it clear that he considered me the leader of the Merry Men, even with Little John right next to me.

John and Briggs had stayed quiet, glancing at each other every once in a while. I figured if either of them had anything important to say, they’d let it out. Both of our sides needed mediators for these talks.

“We want to forge the alliance you spoke of months ago, brother,” I said, looking around at the faces. Everyone nodded slowly, which gave me confidence that we were all after the same thing here.

“As do we,” Robert said. His shoulder-length brown hair had fallen partly over his face, and he tucked it aside behind his ear. My brother was as handsome as ever, and I vaguely wondered why he hadn’t found himself a strong woman to call his own within the Oak Boys. There were plenty of eligible suitresses around.

Uncle Gregory waded in. “A pact between parties is necessary for both of our survivals, if you ask this old man.”

“Agreed,” I said.

“A pact without stipulations?” Little John asked, finally speaking.

Robert turned to him. “We make no demands, John Little. And we expect the same from the Merry Men.”

“Compromises, then,” John said.

“There will always be compromises in a union, no?”

Little John sat back in his chair. “I just want to make sure no one is considered above the other in this venture. The Merry Men have done fine without the help of the Oak Boys so far.”

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