Page 70 of Queen of Sherwood

“Then your opinion of this situation is tainted by bias,” Marian said with a simple shrug. “It’s obvious.”

Tuck spun on her. “Quiet you—”

“Tuck, please,” I begged, grabbing his elbow. “This isn’t the time.”

“These are all just words!” Tuck shouted, pulling his arm from my grasp. It pained me to see the hurt in his eyes, and to lose his touch, as if he felt threatened by the train of thought I entertained.

“What is it you plan to do about all this, Robin?” he demanded to know. “You still haven’t made that part clear.”

I chewed the inside of my cheek. A gnawing pit settled in my belly, growing by the second. Tuck was clearly against anything having to do with Bishop Sutton, and he might have been right.

In the past, I thought, morosely. Tuck hasn’t had history with Bishop Sutton in years. People change, as much as he doesn’t want to admit it. They turn wicked. I’m a perfect example.

Everyone stared at me. I could feel the weight of their eyes burning into my soul. I knew this was a pivotal moment—an important decision for the entire band.

I didn’t want to fuck it up.

My heart slammed against my ribs.

Then I thought about the girls from that carriage. The drugs coursing through their veins as they were mostly unconscious, no idea where they even were. The maddening hold of the moon that commanded them after escaping—and the bloodthirst that followed. The stark-raving sprint through the forest as we descended on Rufford Abbey. The cold fear in those dilated eyes. The rape of Enid. The near-rape of me.

It was a nightmare I never wanted to revisit, but now it was thrust into the forefront of my memory. I couldn’t forget it, and I couldn’t let it happen again.

Those poor girls deserved better. Even now, they struggled to make sense over what happened to them. They struggled with day-to-day life because of the despicable trauma thrust upon them.

I found my teeth grinding so hard I felt they would crack. The awful memories brought the darkness roaring in my brain, heating my anger into righteous fury. Forging a knot of hate in my chest that sat right where my heart should be.

And all of that pain and grief had allegedly been caused by Bishop Sutton and his greed. Maid Marian had no reason to lie to me about Sutton’s involvement—no reason to hate the bishop, from what I could deduce.

No, this had been about the sadistic tendencies of evil men. Not even Abbot Emery or Baron Melwin of Mansfield were important in the overarching scheme. They had been simple bit players in a larger, more sinister scheme.

Bishop Sutton was the chief culprit, and he was playing Sheriff George like a fiddle to extract action out of him. I was certain of it.

That might be why Sir Guy is at odds with Sutton—because he sees his own reputation and status with Sheriff George diminishing each and every day Sutton sticks near George’s side and whispers menacing ideas in his ear.

Guy feels he’s being replaced, and that won’t do.

And he also knows we have a shared loathing over this “holy man.”

“Who cares what Sir Guy’s motives were for helping us?” I said at last, raising my chin to stare at my men. “We rescued the girls. That’s all that matters.”

Friar Tuck gulped loudly. “Aye, that’s true. What are you saying, exactly, little heathen?”

My eyes darkened as I stared into his.

“I’m saying it’s time to exact revenge against those who have harmed us.”

Chapter 19

Robin

Ihad made a decision. No one fought me on it or tried to subvert my authority or dissuade my opinion. My mates believed in me wholeheartedly, and it filled me with happiness to know I always had them on my side.

No matter how tough things got, the Merry Men would prop me up. As Little John had once said, they would believe in me until I believed in myself.

Now, we circled the table again, poring over a map of Sherwood Forest. Our location was northwest of Nottingham and southwest of Ravenshead, somewhere between the two.

John jabbed his finger down on the map, trailing over two lines. “There are two paths to Ravenshead from Nottingham. At least two paths large enough for carriages to traverse, which we know an important person like a bishop will be using to move.”

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