Page 108 of Far From Sherwood Forest
The prince’s jaw tightens, and his knuckles whiten around the arms of his chair as his voice drops to a dangerous purr. “Careful, Hood. I could have you silenced before you draw your next breath. But, no, I think I got it right the first time. You’veaged, Robin.”
For some reason, that pisses me off more than it should. Maybe because the ache in my knees from the stone floor and the one in my shoulders from my hands being tied behind my back are proof of that.
I return his smirk. “And I still have a prettier face than yours.”
Henry coughs.
Fortunately, it goes unnoticed as rage flashes across the prince’s features, his lips curling in a scowl.
He leans back again, and his angry gaze remains locked on me as he says, “Do me a favor, Sheriff, and kill him now.”
“If that is your order, Your Highness, I will of course obey.” Henry grips the back of my collar as though worried I’ll attempt to flee, but my trust in him doesn’t waver. As he speaks, he does so slowly, buying us time. “However, if you can forgive me, I’d like to make a suggestion. Dead, he’s nothing but a martyr. Alive, he can answer for every theft, every insult, every drop of rebellion he’s sown. You could let him rot in the dungeons, and the people will forget him. Or, if you insist on his death, you could hang him at dawn for the entire town to witness the price of defying you.”
Prince John shifts his narrowed eyes to Henry. “You abandoned your post and have been gone a long time, Sheriff. Should I worry about where your loyalties lie?”
“Of course not, Your Highness,” he answers with a slight bow of his head.
“Good. I want this done right here, right now. This outlaw that I’ve hunted for years—”
He’shunted for years? Arrogant prick.
“—thrives only on attention. Without it, he’s nothing. Not even his death deserves a spectacle. Cut him down and let me watch the light leave his eyes.”
Shit.
Henry draws his sword, the sound of metal scraping against the inside of his scabbard piercing through the large room. He releases the collar of my shirt and slowly moves to stand in front of me, resting the blade on my shoulder.
Our eyes meet.
Neither one of us are surprised we ended up here, but we didn’t expect to so soon. The prince has a habit for theatrics. He likes to drag things out just to hear the sound of his own voice, to savor the moment and revel in long, twisted games of words and power. But maybe we overestimated how much mine and Henry’s return could distract him from his plan to have the king murdered on the road. He’s probably anxiously awaiting to hear news and is too busy to bother with this longer than he has to.
But Henry still waits becauseof coursehe does. I’m not afraid that he’s about to kill me, but Iamworried we’re about to have to fight off a dozen knights by ourselves.
Will and Alan were meant to be backup in case this happened, but they’re not here yet. And we haven’t heard the signal from John and Tuck.
“Get on with it, Sheriff!”
Henry’s gaze hasn’t left mine. I can practically hear both our hearts beating in sync.
I let out a heavy breath and mutter under it, “Fuck.”
A clanging of metal like pots and pans comes from behind a door to the left of the raised platform. Henry lowers his sword and turns just in time to see the door burst open. Will and Alan both stumble out with their own swords drawn, a handful of men from our camp coming out to flank them.
“What is the meaning of this?” the prince roars as he rises to his feet. “Seize them!”
Prince John’s voice cracks like a whip, and his knights surge forward, armor clanging, blades glinting in the colored lightspilling from the stained glass.
The hall erupts into chaos.
My men charge the knights without fear. Will parries the first blow, shoving the attacker back into another knight, while Alan lunges past him to take on two at once. Courtiers scatter to the edges of the room while lords shield ladies with their bodies. A table of wine goblets crashes to the floor, spilling red across the stone like blood.
Henry grabs hold of my arm and helps pull me to my feet. Twisting my hands, I take hold of the loose knot that he purposefully tied in the rope around my wrists and tug until the binds fall away.
“Robin!”
I turn toward Will who slips a bow and quiver full of arrows off his shoulder before tossing it to me. I catch it out of the air, pull the bow out of its strap, and throw the quiver over my own shoulder.
“You fools!” Prince John shouts over the clash of steel. He crouches behind the throne with a couple guards standing on either side, his crown even more crooked than it was before. “Your little band of scoundrels is not enough to seize my power!”
