Page 5 of Queen of Sherwood

“Have you?” Robert spit out—a bit too fast for my liking. “Weren’t you the man who was a captive of Sheriff George just a few months back?”

Briggs cut in: “And was it not the Oak Boys who instigated the riot in Nottingham during the execution, when the Merry Men were too scared to?”

Little John’s hands tightened on the arms of his seat, making a squeezing sound. I tensed, whipping my head over to Briggs to retort—

But Uncle Gregory held a hand out before things could escalate. “Hold on, hold on. Let us not allow tensions to rise so quickly, aye?”

“Robert started it,” I blurted, and immediately felt childish for saying it.

Bess looked over at me, unmoved. “Don’t let these boys turn you into a blubbering little girl, Lady Robin. You’re better than that. Or is a matron necessary to hold everyone in check?” Her tired eyes circled the table, landing on every face.

We all fell quiet at Bess’ admonishment. All of us slightly embarrassed and ashamed.

A beat later, Robert said, “I apologize.” He bowed his head at Little John. “I suppose the insinuation that everything was fine in Sherwood Forest hit me a little harder than I expected it would.”

John said, “I could have spoken with more tact, too. Apology accepted.”

And just like that, I realized the power Bess Cook held. I would never have what she had: age and wisdom. At least not for a long time. But I wondered if there was a way to implement her sure-handedness and confidence into my own leadership style.

Despite her chiding of me—for good reason—I was impressed by her. She was a true mediator. And a provider of good food, which was treasured.

Friar Tuck cleared his throat and scratched his bald head. “If we are in agreement that unity is needed, then let’s move on. Robert and Robin, brother and sister, are the unofficial leaders of our respective gangs. Can you two be civil?”

I looked at Tuck, then Robert. He stared at me, his face unreadable.

“I can,” I said, and Robert quickly agreed.

“Then what of leadership beyond tonight?” Tuck continued, and I saw where he was going with this. “Unless we become the Merry Oak People, our two groups have become accustomed to their leaders. We both have our own ways of doing things. I know you, Robin, have worked your ass off to gain the trust of the Merry Men. I wouldn’t want that trust to dissolve overnight because a man from an outside enterprise is taking over. Brother or otherwise.”

I chewed the inside of my cheek. Anxiety rose up inside me. Tuck was right: Could I still hold onto my leadership position if we commingled with the Oak Boys? Would Robert and Uncle Gregory allow it?

Robert had been a soldier before this. He had a military mind, and as a man, it likely made sense for him to lead the alliance.

That was the rub, though. Because I didn’t want to relinquish the status I’d only just recently acquired. Call it selfish, but I had earned my place at the table. I wasn’t a soldier before this, yet I was certainly no princess or damsel, now, either. I had my own qualifications and strengths that Robert wouldn’t be able to replicate.

Now, if only I could figure out a tactful way of saying all that.

Robert made it easy for me, luckily, by giving me a small smile. “I would not presume to try and lead the Merry Men, or vest leadership from my younger sister. Our groups are different. We operate differently, even if we seek the same thing: peace for all of us. A life free from the despotic nature of society outside Sherwood Forest, which Prince John has thrust upon us all.”

“Here, here,” Briggs toasted, picking up a mug of soup and drinking from it.

“Then let us talk specifics,” Little John said, leaning forward. “What can we offer each other?” He looked to Robert. “What can the Oak Boys offer the Merry Men?”

“Bodies,” Robert began, counting off on his finger. “We have more recruits—more soldiers, tailors, and cooks.”

“A veil, too,” Uncle Gregory added, as if this had been scripted beforehand. “The Oak Boys are not as infamous as the Merry Men, sad as it may be for your people. Our location here is safer than anywhere the Merry Men might go.”

“That’s true,” I said, nodding. “We seem to get caught all the time by Sheriff George and his hound, Sir Guy of Gisborne.” I tilted my head, tapping my chin. “Although not recently, oddly enough. We’ve gone months without interacting with our enemies.”

“Don’t be fooled, sister. It’s coming.”

I sighed and nodded at Robert. “Which is why we’re here, brother, doing this now. It may be the only time we can come to an agreement.”

“The only time you’re not on the run, you mean?” Briggs shot back.

I rolled my eyes, and didn’t deign to give the captain an answer. If he was trying to incense me, or catch me up, then his motives were misplaced.

“Could you have a betrayer in your midst?” Uncle Gregory asked, a genuine expression of concern on his face.

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