Lady Marian

Chapter 19

I did not see Sarah again. The guard at my door changed every six hours, as well as the one stationed below my window. The grating of their shoes against the smooth stone floors stung my ears, while their hushed whispers curled my stomach in uneasy knots. The cook's underling brought my meals in silence, placing the tray on my dressing table and leaving under the watchful eye of the guards.

"Fattened for the slaughter," I said as I forced myself to eat a dinner of beef and bread. Where I hoped to go there would be few meals.

In time the servant arrived to retrieve the empty tray, his head lowered as he entered the chamber.

"Can you tell me if Sarah will accompany me to London?" I asked.

"I do not know, my lady." The kitchen servant took a sideways glance at the soldier as he spoke. "I have been told naught."

I jumped off my linen-less bed and clutched the servant's wrist. "Is Sarah still here? Has my father dismissed her?"

The servant wrenched his arm away, shaking his head.

My maid had done all she could to help me, then. I settled back onto my bare bed and thought. I could make a rope out of the winter gown and chemise to lower myself out the window, but then I would need those in Sherwood Forest—if to the forest I could run without being caught. My legs ached still from running in my slippers, and my bloody feet had fared far worse. Perchance when the officials came to collect me, we would be waylaid by Robin on the journey. Certainly, he would rescue me.

But we would not be traversing Sherwood Forest. They would not risk losing the prince's betrothed to an outlaw if they could help it. And Sarah, my only hope of alerting Robin, had disappeared. I tried not to imagine my maid chained in a dark and grisly dungeon at the castle, on suspicion of conspiring with the Merry Men. Had that not been her fear all along?

I turned to my window. As of yet, no guard had come to bar that. The rich green colour had drained for the forest leaves; much like a prisoner at the hands of the torturer is drained of all resolve, my morbid mind fancied. Faded hues of red and orange took their place. A cool wind circled me.

Robin had to be watching the manor. After the incident on the road, he would come to check that I was safe. He would notice something was wrong. If he could enter Nottingham Castle unseen, he could conquer Arlingford and carry me off. I would gladly have him cart me over his shoulder now.

But there were others, growing in their resolve to put down his revolt, watching this house. Was it fair to put Robin in such danger? Was he already dead? No, they would have told me. Their boasting of his demise would have reached even France by now.

I could resign myself to my fate and go to London. Aunt Eleanor was not all bad. I could request that Sarah come with me and continue to serve as my maid. With a familiar face, life might be bearable. Perhaps I could continue our quest for justice from London. I might even be able to do more for Nottinghamshire from the capital.

I refused to think of my cousin head on. The thought sent shivers through my body. Yet, as his wife, could I turn Prince John? Could I do some good and prevent men like the sheriff from gaining power in the first place? Could I do enough to stop a war?

After all, was this not the game of statecraft? Trade one king for another. One queen for another. Wage war and bribe allies. Risk eternal damnation for a slice more territory.

Women played it much more intimately, my aunt for instance.

It was a game that would go on with or without me.