Page 97 of Peregrine's Call
He looked back. “Robin?”
“Who else around would want you alive instead of dead, my lord? Get rid of the sword, and don’t delay.”
He unbuckled the leather belt that held his scabbard, dropping it to his feet. “Now what?” he asked, sounding very confident for a man in his position.
“Dagger.”
“You’d leave me defenseless?”
Robin laughed. “I’m naive, but not that naive. Drop the dagger and step ten paces away from the weapons.”
He dropped the dagger and dutifully walked back. Robin sprang forward, seized the weapons, and then said, “All right, let’s move so we’re not out in the open.”
“Where are we going? My horse can’t carry me.”
“Then you’ll walk him. There’s a forester’s hut very near here. It will do until morning.”
She directed Pierce to the hut, keeping her horse behind his and her bow ready in case he tried to bolt.
The hut was a tiny building, existing only as an emergency shelter for the people who worked in the woods throughout the year, whether it was herding hogs through the woods to fatten them up, or to cut wood, or to hunt the small game that lived here. The hut provided shelter for anyone who couldn’t reach home.
It was empty tonight, but well stocked with wood for a fire and feed for any animals that needed shelter. Robin directed Pierce to tether both horses and then go inside the hut.
He insisted on getting his basket first, and Robin realized that he’d spirited Govannon out of a castle once again.
After he got the basket and went inside, she hid his weapons in the deepest part of the hay pile and leaned her bow against the wall. It would be useless inside.
The interior of the hut was almost stygian until Pierce located the lantern and lit it, illuminating the rough walls and the modest wooden platform that served as a bed.
“Good,” Robin said, her hand on her dagger. “Now start a fire. I know you can, because I taught you.”
When the fire was burning, Govannon curled up in front of it as if he were lord of this little hut.
Pierce petted him, and then stood up, his gaze intent on her. “You can’t take me back to Martenkeep. You know Ranulf’s men are still crawling through the woods between here and there. We’re lucky they haven’t found us yet.”
“Then I’ll drag you to Cleobury and Sir Alric will lock you up there,” she snapped.
Pierce’s eyes widened. “Cleobury?”
Instantly, Robin knew she’d made a terrible mistake. She never should have revealed her idea, and she definitely shouldn’t have mentioned Alric’s name.
“You know Cleobury,” he said, his eyes gleaming. “You know the knight Sir Alric. Damn me. It was obvious you knew Octavian long before you pretended to meet, and you both know Rafe very well. And here’s Alric in both your circles. Tell me who you are!”
Something in his voice made her answer before she could stop herself. “My name is Robin. Just Robin. I’m not a lady and I have no family.”
“But you know this part of the country, and the Ardenwood as well. How?” He shifted back, inviting her to share more, and she was surprised to find that she wanted to. Keeping her ordinary identity to herself had never been comfortable.
“I was born in the Ardenwood, to common folk. When they died, I lived alone until I encountered Rainald de Vere there in the woods, while he was living in exile. He took me in. He fed me and let me live in the camp. I scouted for him and his men.”
“But then he returned to Cleobury.”
“Yes, and he took me with him. I owed him everything. His daughter Cecily and her husband Alric became my guardians. Cecily taught me to be a proper lady…or she tried.”
Pierce snorted. “Had her work cut out for her, poor darling. HowisLady Cecily?”
“As if you care.”
“I quite liked her, you know,” he said mildly. “I would have treated her very well as my wife.”
