Lady Marian

Chapter 28

The cool morning air was a refreshing change from the stale, oily smoke of the cave. Overnight, the snow had left Sherwood Forest in a decadent layer of bright white fluff. I let my legs dangle from the entrance to our cave as I rearranged the longbow across my lap, an arrow ever ready to be poised on an approaching soldier.

Sarah approached me from behind, tying a cloak around my neck. She lifted the wool hood over my head and arranged the cape over my shoulders. I had hardly noticed the edge of frost in the breeze—I must have acclimated well to forest life.

"I was too harsh with you last night," she said.

I shrugged my shoulders, straining to make out a dark figure strolling in and out of the trees across the riverbank.

"I should not have spoken with you that way, Marian."

"It is no matter," I replied, rising to my feet.

"When I agreed..." Sarah started to stay.

I pulled back the bowstring, in case I was wrong about the man approaching through the forest.

Sarah continued, "When I agreed to marry Much, I knew what sort of man he was."

"What sort of man was that?" I eased the tension back on the bowstring as the stout figure of Tuck became more discernable.

"A good man, but an outlaw. Not a tyrant, but a thief."

"Much is a good man," I agreed.

"Sometimes good men are driven to do things they would rather not do. I was not prepared for that."

"Much was not with us yesterday." I resumed my perch.

Sarah sighed and sidled up next to me. I had to rearrange the longbow to avoid stabbing her through the ribs. She twisted her apron in her hands as her legs dangled over the edge of the cave.

"But you were."

"And you were not prepared for that?" I asked, looking Sarah in the eyes for the first time.

"No. This business is a long way from sneaking cabbages to Locksley village."

"You knew about that?" I asked.

"Everyone knew about that." Tuck hoisted his ever-thinning girth up the ladder. We rose to allow him to pass into the cavern. "All is well in the village. Will has stayed behind—a pretty little lass boiling a stew, I believe."

As Tuck disappeared into the smoky blackness of the cavern, I turned back to Sarah.

"Did all the servants know?"

She shrugged.

"Did my father know?"

"Suspected it, most like. He never struck you for it, did he?"

"You bathed enough bruises to know." A thought struck me. "Sarah, Robin believes that if Sir Guy were dead, the prince would install a worse man."

Sarah nodded. "There are worse men to be found."

"But who?"

"Saladin, Prince John, Lucifer himself..." Sarah marked each despot off on her fingers.

"My father."

Sarah looked up. The apron grew a little more wrinkled. "Aye, your father."