Lady Marian

Chapter 4

Father's grip on my wrist stung. My slippered feet struggled to find their footing on the polished stone floors of the castle corridor. My eyes found themselves focusing on the gold signet dangling from Father's neck.

"Do not think, Marian, I do not know of your little excursions into Locksley. Who were those men?"

My knuckles scraped against the rough stone wall. "The large one was John Little," I gasped as my knees hit the floor. Truth be told, I was not entirely certain it was John Little, but a mammoth outlaw made as good a candidate as any.

Father cast me aside. I stumbled onto the cold stones, panting for a moment to catch my breath.

"I should hamstring that horse of yours. Who was the man in the hood?"

"I do not know," I whispered. I felt Father snatching at the high lace collar of my dress. I took a deep breath, preparing myself for the onslaught.

"Who was the archer in the hood, Marian?"

"I do not..."

The unmistakable sound of the softest leather boots marching around the corner caused me to hesitate. A robed shadow announced the arrival of Sir Guy just as he rounded the corridor. Father released his grip on my dress. Relieved, I pulled myself up from the floor, straightening my veil and circlet. The sheriff's grim expression softened for a moment—just one moment—then he said sharply, "Lord Fitzwalter, I have been searching the grounds for you."

Father's only reply was the rise of his eyebrows. I followed behind as he fell into step with Sir Guy.

"They have made a fool of me. These vile, upstart knaves have made an absolute mockery of me. I swear, when I find them—and I will find them, within the hour I swear—they will be hanged, drawn, and quartered if I am feeling merciful."

Father placed a hand on the sheriff's shoulder. "I believe I know one of the men you are looking for—John Little, who the villagers call Little John, don't they, Marian?"

"Yes, Father." I traced the lines of the paving stones. We had entered the courtyard. The smell of smoke still lingered on the breeze. The blackened remains of the gallows and straw lay smoldering under the watchful eyes of two servants in dirty aprons and worn out hose. Two stable boys arrived holding the reigns of our horses. I was at once grateful and dreading to leave the castle.

Sir Guy took Shadowcrest's reigns from the stable boy, dismissing him with curt nod.

"Lady Marian, do you know who the man under the hood is?" He asked as I mounted my ambler.

"Nay, Sir Guy, I do not know."

Sir Guy peered at me, seeming to read every inch of my face. I stifled the urge to pull my veil over my head. "Nevertheless, we will find these men."

"Aye, sir." I adjusted the folds of my gown and sat up a little straighter. "I daresay he may be the best shot in England, you will capture him before sundown."

Sir Guy bowed low. "For you, my lady, I shall."

Father nudged his chestnut mare's side. "I expect to hear word of the conclusion of this business. Marian, we are going."

"You can expect my messenger before dark," Sir Guy vowed as we rode off through the castle gates.

As we trotted through the narrow Nottingham streets, townspeople parted way before us as if we had the plague. I wished I had turned down my veil as women whispered behind their trailing headscarves and men pointed at my father. Still, the town was a safe place. Father would not be cruel to me on the streets, as if I were a yeoman's daughter and not the cousin of the king.