Page 73 of Queen of Sherwood

What if we never find out what the “path of the Templar” is referring to? It will be a lost opportunity.

It would also be an opportunity to stave off danger and death, which wasn’t such a bad thing. Any job we took, especially with carriages and guards involved, would inherently be dangerous.

I hoped we could resist resorting to violence.

Some raised voices behind us made me spin around.

A horse trotted into camp from the west, pushing through the final trees to get to our glade.

Will Scarlet sat atop his horse, hunched over.

I hurried over as he dismounted and pulled his steed to our nearest stableman. When he approached me, I was wringing my hands nervously.

“Well?” I asked.

“A success, as suspected,” Will said haughtily. When I gave him a confused scrunch of my brow, he reached into his trousers and pulled out a scrap of cloth.

Across the muddy-white cloth, smaller than a man’s tunic, was a huge red cross.

The Templar Knights’ symbol.

My eyes widened.

“Found this on the path halfway between Nottingham and Ravenshead. Might seem innocent enough . . . if you didn’t know to look for it.” Will wagged the tattered cloth in the air. “Couldn’t have been happenstance, the way it was left there for me to find.”

“The path of the Templar,” I muttered, running a hand softly over the coarse, torn fabric.

“Aye. Good a clue as any.” Will scanned the camp. “John and Robert haven’t returned yet?”

I shook my head. Peered up at the sky, squinting against the orange ball of fire of late afternoon. “Nay. I’m starting to get worried.” Shaking my head of the thoughts, I asked, “What do you make of this, Will?”

“So far, your intuition has been correct. I believe Bishop Sutton will take his convoy east, where he feels safest from bandits.”

“Then we need Little John and Robert back, fast, so we can get moving.”

“This is all happening very swiftly,” Tuck pointed out. “Should we not stop and think about our plan a little longer? Wasn’t your impulsiveness something you wanted to change, Robin?”

I frowned at him. “My impulsiveness has gotten us into trouble in the past, true. This isn’t that, though. This is a thought-out plan, with a designated goal. Let’s reach that goal, my ornery love.”

With a groan, Tuck stood. He tucked his knuckle-bands away in the pockets of his habit. “Very well,” he said, and turned away to head for a tent. “Wake me up when it’s time to move. Whether I agree with you or not, little heathen, I’ll never abandon you.”

Chapter 20

Little John

“You fought in the king’s army, like me,” Robert said as our horses trotted down the road leading up to Ravenshead.

We had mostly been quiet since setting off, so his words startled me a bit.

I was proud of Robin for being decisive and directing her Merry Men to do her bidding. She was learning to become a true leader—delegating, not trying to do everything her damned self.

I wondered why she chose me to ride with Robert on the western route, but it became apparent quickly enough. I had been the first of Robin’s mates that Robert met. I was the only one who had seen the Oak Boys camp. We had something of a rapport, even if we were little more than strangers at this point.

We both fought for the same thing, and aimed to protect the same person precious to us both: Robin Hood. One of us, brother, one of us, lover. Our goals were congruent.

“I did. Many years before you did.” My voice was little more than a grunt. My eyes scanned the fringes of the road and the trees we passed, looking for any sign of Templar activity—anything to give us a clue regarding that cryptic message from Sir Guy of Gisborne.

I can’t believe we’re trusting him. A man who hates us almost as much as he hates himself.

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