Colette Gale - Bound by Honor

Leaving her palfrey tied to a tree near the road, Marian approached the oak, moving quietly into the forest.

She found the place Robin had told her about with no difficulty, and tucked the small piece of foolscap deep inside. Just as she turned to walk back to her horse, she heard a soft rustle and the low murmur of voices deeper in the wood.

Curiosity niggled at her, and Marian could not resist. She moved silently through the forest, taking care to step only on the thick covering of pine needles, which muffled any sound, and to avoid sticks and bushes. The ability to move thus was a skill she’d learned long ago, when she sneaked after the fostering boys at Mead’s Vale and spied upon them. When she heard the voices clearly enough to recognize that they belonged to two men who were speaking in low rumbles, she crouched and peered around a tree.

Will sat atop his massive black horse in the midst of a dark, thick section of the wood. The trees grew so close here that little sunlight reached the ground. Leaves and pine boughs created a canopy above Will’s head, but he stood unfettered and fully in view in the middle of the shadowy forest.

At first, Marian thought he must be alone, and that his companion-or whomever he’d been talking to-had gone. But then she heard a murmured reply filtering from somewhere, and she looked up into the trees.

Robin?

Robin and Will were talking, there in the midst of the forest?

Or had Will chased the outlaw deep into the wood, and now Robin sat high in a tree, taunting the sheriff from his perch?

Marian strained to hear their conversation, but just then, Will gave a loud disgusted sound and wheeled his horse sharply about. He slammed his heels into the destrier’s side, and with a great leap, they began to bound toward her. Heart in her throat, Marian stumbled back, out of the warhorse’s path, and ducked behind a fallen tree. She tripped over the huge trunk, tumbling onto the other side and landing in a pile of gown and kirtle.

Worried that Will had heard her ungainly escape, she pulled herself up and peered over the top of the trunk, half-expecting him to come galloping over to yank her out from her hiding place. But he barreled on past, and she watched him go with another worry; he might not have found her, but if he kept on in that direction, he would see her horse and mayhap her men.

Marian scrambled up and began to run, not back on the route from which she’d come, but at a slightly different angle. Will would certainly come back into the forest, looking for her, and she wanted to be as far from this place where he’d been with Robin as possible.

She also wanted time to think about what she’d seen: Will and Robin, talking in the middle of the wood.

Had they met intentionally, and Robin taken the opportunity to taunt Will from his place in the tree? Or had it been happenstance, and the sheriff had once again allowed the outlaw to slip through his fingers? That hardly seemed to be the case, since Will had left first. But even so, she suspected that the sheriff would be less than pleased to know she’d witnessed their dealings.

She tripped and fell once because she wasn’t watching the ground, so worried was she that Will might come bursting through the wood upon her. Pulling herself back up, Marian realized her veil had been torn from her hair somewhere along the way, and that branches had pulled tendrils from her thick braids. Her skirts were soiled and she was out of breath by the time she heard what she’d been expecting: the bellow of her name, and the dull thud of hooves on the forest floor.

Pausing to catch her breath, she smoothed her hair and her skirt and tried to appear as if she were merely examining a growth of moss on the side of one tree. She’d seen one of the healers use moss to pack a wound once-

“Marian!”

She forced herself to look mildly surprised to see him, but it was difficult when faced with the dangerous black figure before her. The warhorse pawed and pranced as Will drew him up and around, coming toward her.

“Madwoman!” he thundered. “What do you here alone? Was not one attack by outlaws enough for you? Do you wish to be taken off and assaulted?”

“Nay, of course I do not,” she shouted back, startled into anger. However she had expected their next meeting to be after the events of the night before, this was not a scene she would have imagined. “My men are nearby, in fact. They will like be coming to my aid, for they’re certain to hear how you have attacked me thus.” Her voice had calmed and now bore a tinge of disdain.

“Or mayhap you simply troll through the wood in hopes of meeting Robin Hood,” he continued furiously, as if she’d never spoken, his voice infused with venom. He took little care to keep the destrier from pawing and snorting, fairly atop her in his close proximity.

If she did not know how well he controlled his horse, she might be frightened enough to step back from the four-legged beast, but Marian was not about to show any further weakness. Instead, she stood her ground and glared up at him, hardly able to accept that only last night he’d been sliding in and out of her body, making her cry and writhe with pleasure.

“I presume this is yours?” His fist whipped out and she saw that he was holding a scrap of blue ribbon.

Marian looked at it, immediately recognizing the bit of fabric. She hadn’t even noticed the narrow trim was missing, but quickly realized where she must have lost it: in the cave where she and Robin had . . . been . . . two days ago.

And Will had found it. And made . . . the right . . . conclusion. She grimaced.

“In the future,” he continued as the sound of more dull hoofbeats came pounding, “I suggest you find a safer place than the middle of the forest to search for your lover. ’Tis foolish to wander where any might see or find you.”

Before she had the chance to reply, Bruse and Fargus burst into view brandishing their swords as they galloped up.

“Hold!” she shouted, raising her hands to stop them. The last thing she needed was for them to attack the sheriff. Although ’twould likely be an overmatched battle, with the sheriff and his warhorse coming out the victors.

“Lady?” Bruse asked, slightly out of breath, eyeing the sheriff warily. He moved toward her, maneuvering his horse adeptly between his mistress and Will.

Marian thought she saw a glint of approval in the sheriff ’s eyes as his mount flared his nostrils furiously, but it disappeared.

Instead, he asked, “Is this yours?” Dangling the ribbon from a dark hand, he caught her with his dark eyes, his gaze piercing her coldly.

He wanted confirmation that she’d been in the cave with Robin, and by the saints, she’d give it to him. “Aye.” She walked easily past Bruse and reached to pluck it from his fingers. “I had no idea I’d lost it. Many thanks for returning it.”

“Mayhap next time, you’ll take better care not to leave evidence of your presence languishing about. It could be dangerous to you.”

“More dangerous than the Sheriff of Nottinghamshire?” she asked pertly. “That I cannot fathom.”

He scowled at her well-placed barb, then wheeled his mount and started off toward the keep without another word. She watched him go, admiring his easy grace in the saddle . . . and the width of his shoulders, the thick dark hair that just brushed them, the powerful thighs that clamped around the warhorse.

And she wished that he were not the man she knew him to be.

CHAPTER 13

T he day of the archery contest dawned gray and wet, and showed no inclination toward changing into more pleasant weather. Droplets glittered in the morning light and gray drizzle cooled the air as the sun rose behind smoky clouds. Nevertheless, the competition would commence just after the midday meal in the hall, for John would not be denied his pleasure-for the match, nor for springing his trap upon Robin Hood.

After coming upon Marian in the forest the day before, Will had returned to the keep and managed to keep the prince occupied, distracted with his plans to capture Robin Hood the next day. They’d plotted, drinking wine, throughout the evening and into the night before John sought his bed. This gave Will a needed reprieve and, he supposed, Marian a quiet night.

Unless Locksley had found his way into the keep and her chamber.

Better him than Will. At the least, she would welcome the outlaw.

His jaw tight, he dismissed those thoughts and turned his attention to the archery contest. Will knew that Locksley would be unable to resist the challenge to attend the competition, and that he would win the contest. There was no one in the county who had the same skill with a longbow; hence, John had made the prize too rich for the man to pass up. A gold arrow, which could be melted down to share among the poor Locksley made such a show of protecting, would be an irresistible lure.

Though he didn’t sit at the high table during the midday meal, Will could not help but search for Marian, as if to ascertain whether she looked rested . . . or not . . . after her night away from the Court of Pleasure.

But he didn’t see her. Instead, no sooner had he left the hall and strode outside than Marian’s master-at-arms accosted him in the rain-dampened bailey.

His ruddy face appeared strained, and his eyes were lit with worry. The man gave a little bow, just enough to show respect but nothing more. “My lord sheriff,” said the man. “I do no’ wish to trouble you now, but I bear bad tidings.”

“What is it?” Will asked, actually stopping in his tracks.

“My lady . . . she is gone. She ha’ said she willn’t stay in Ludlow any longer and she ha’ gone. . . .” Here the man’s voice dropped low and he glanced around, then back to Will. “She ha’ gone to that Robin Hood. She claims she will be safer there, though I cannot trow how it could be safe . . . being wi’ a bandit in the woods.”

Will was enraged. The woman was mad. If John learned that she’d joined the outlaw . . .

And yet, Will could not deny her reasons for doing so. He’d even considered sending her off with the bandit. At the least with Locksley, she would be safe from John . . . and from himself.

Aye. From the both of them.

But he had a bigger concern at the moment. “She went off . . . alone?” Surely she wouldn’t have been so foolish.

The man shrugged, his face worried, his skin glistening from the misty rain. “I do not know, my lord. I do nay think she would, but none of the men went with my lady.”

Will drew in a slow breath. Marian was not that much of a fool. Either she had something planned with Locksley or she found some other way to ensure her safety. She would not have gone alone. He believed that.

And her plans aside, Will had sent men to patrolling the forest even more heavily since Marian’s experience with the outlaws who had attacked her. None of his men had seen a sign from that group of bandits.

Mayhap Locksley had sneaked her from her chamber late in the night while Will attended to the prince.

“How do you know of her disappearance?”

“Her maidservant ha’ told us just this morning.”

Will allowed himself to relax a bit. ’Twas possible that his last guess was correct: Locksley had helped her slip from Ludlow late in the night while the maid snored on her pallet.

And then he wondered if having Marian with him would keep Locksley from attending the archery contest. John would be most annoyed if things did not go as planned and Robin Hood did not end up in the Ludlow dungeon.

He would soon find out. Will’s attention was drawn beyond the walls of the bailey to the faint sound of horns calling the competitors to appear.

“Send word to me if you learn anything further,” Will said. “But I do not believe she is in any danger from Robin Hood-most likely he will hold her for ransom in order to fill his cup. He dare not harm a noblewoman.”

Harming Marian was most definitely not what Locksley had in mind.

Striding through the bailey, Will took up Cauchemar’s reins from his waiting squire and launched himself into the saddle. Beyond the walls, against the dreary gray sky, he saw the colorful pennants raised over the covered stands that had been erected in the last few days. They sagged flat and limp beneath the incessant damp. John’s raised platform was in the center with a clear view of the targets that had been arranged along the tree line.

Placing the circular targets near the forest had been Will’s suggestion, for he explained that it would make Robin Hood overly confident of his escape, should he think it necessary. John and Will had made other plans, however, to thwart such an attempt.

Yet Will didn’t believe that Locksley would leave without his golden arrow, regardless of the danger he might find himself in. He would wait to claim his prize, and then make some bold escape.

And, as always, the Sheriff of Nottinghamshire would be unable to stop him, and appear to all as inept and slow.

As he drew closer, Will eyed the contestants that had begun to gather. Men of all ages and social classes, from noble to freeman to villein, held longbows and adjusted quivers over their shoulders. They milled about in small clusters, their boots and hose dark at the ankles from the damp grass.

He meant to ride down to the green where the match was to take place, but one of John’s pages hurried up and caught his attention. Still high atop Cauchemar, Will found it necessary to look far down at the boy when he delivered the message that the prince required the sheriff’s attendance.

Gritting his teeth, certain that John merely wished to review once again the plan to capture Robin Hood, Will turned and directed his mount off toward the tallest of the stands, at the center of the field. The prince had required chairs to be brought for himself and a few of his closest companions, and the oiled fabric roof tented high enough above the seats that he could walk fully erect beneath it-but not so high that the sting of rain angled through.

“Aye, my lord,” Will called, bringing Cauchemar to the front of the stand, which stood as high as his head. “How may I serve you?”

“Where is Lady Marian of Morlaix?” John replied. He rose from his seat to come toward the edge of the stand. “ ’ Tis my wish and desire that she join me here. I have a seat prepared for her. Bring her to me before the match begins.”

Will’s face froze in the pleasant but emotionless expression with which he always faced the prince. “I have not seen Lady Marian, my lord. Is she not with the other ladies?”

“No one seems to know where she is,” John said, looking down at Will. His unfriendly eyes fixed on him darkly. “Find her. I wish to have her company whilst I watch the proceedings.”

“I have not seen her since supper yesterday,” Will replied. “Mayhap she is ill in her chamber.”

“Nay. I have sent for her, and I know for certain there is no one in her chamber.” John’s eyes gleamed maliciously. “You do not know where she is?”

“My lord, I truly have not seen her since last evening’s meal. As you recall, you and I spent the remainder of the evening planning for today’s events,” Will said in an effort to redirect the prince’s attention to the matter at hand: capturing Robin Hood. He did not care for John’s sudden and overt interest in Marian’s whereabouts.