“What is it!” one of the men cried.
“We are discovered, run!” said another.
They fled in all directions, into the dark and the hedgerows where they must have thought they could find shelter. John was forgotten, crouching with the rake behind a fence of arrows. None of them had gotten too close, as if the archer hadn’t meant to hit anybody, merely frighten them.
John noticed: they weren’t Locksley arrows with their plain gray feathers. He pulled one out of the ground, studied it. Brown fletching, unremarkable. If it wasn’t a Locksley who’d fired the shot, then who?
Out of habit, he collected all the arrows. Then he ran to where the archer must have stood.
* * *
“John went out, and Mary and Eleanor followed?” Robin said. He was pacing, while Will Scarlet stood off to the side, gaze downcast and chagrined. Will said they had been gone for more than an hour, after promising to be back quickly, which meant that either they had found additional mischief or they were in trouble.
Marian refused to be angry, and definitely refused to be frightened. She sat by the fire, working with spindle and wool, which was easier in the dark than embroidery or mending, to try to calm herself. She hated to think what sort of mischief they might encounter with so many strangers around. They were good children, really. Except they were very nearly no longer children at all. Mary was full grown. Marian just didn’t like to admit it.
“I didn’t expect John to be able to sneak out. I’m sorry—”
“Don’t apologize—I’m impressed he got past you,” Robin said. “And the girls? You just let them go?”
“Mary didn’t try to lie, and she insisted they’d be back soon.”
Frowning, Robin looked out toward the torch and lantern lights of Westminster, setting the nighttime mist aglow. “She must have known where John was going.”
“She wouldn’t say.”
“Those conniving little kits, what have they got up to?”
“Rob, I’m sure they’re fine, they’re just out exploring—”
“Should we go after them?” Robin was so rarely uncertain about anything. “There are a dozen men within an arrow’s flight who would use them to hurt me.”
“They wouldn’t dare, not under the king’s nose like this,” Marian said, but was unconvinced.
“The king’s got nothing to say about anything,” Robin said. “He’s no older than they are—oh.” He sank onto a bench and ran tired hands through his hair.
Marian and Will exchanged a glance. “Robin?” she tested.
“I told him that he should be friends with the king. The boy took me at my word. What trouble has he gotten that poor child into?”
She needed a few moments to catch up with him, and then was astonished. “You’re saying he’s gone off to . . . what? Drag the king into some boyish pranks?”
“And Mary guessed, so she went after him. Eleanor never likes to be left out of anything. And . . .” He shook his head, defeated. “They’ve been gone for hours!”
On the one hand, Marian was furious that the children would be so foolish to go out in a strange place at night. On the other, perhaps the young king might like a bit of harmless mischief. How much trouble could they really get into with that very well-guarded young man in tow?
“Well,” Marian said calmly. “Perhaps they found an adventure.”
“Marian, they were supposed to be nothing like me. They were supposed to be sensible and quiet and not at all prone to adventures.”
“Hmm,” she said, refusing to state any opinion about what Robin’s children were meant to be like. If they were wild, she’d blame Sherwood Forest before she blamed Robin. Something about that place got into one’s bones and made one rash.
Will went to the cask of ale to pour a couple of mugs and brought one to Robin. “Drink, my lord.”
Robin tried, but just as he brought the mug to his lips, a fresh commotion traveled from the back of the camp. Dav of Doncaster and Grace had a young man between them, dragging him so he could not get his feet under him. Dav and Grace were two of Robin’s company who’d left the forest to come with him to Locksley. Dav was lean, with a studious gaze, his dark beard now dusted with gray. Grace, a tall woman with a constant frown, dressed as a forester and kept her hair short. With her cap and leather jerkin, she was often mistaken for a man and she liked it that way. Middle-aged but no less hearty for it, they were unswervingly loyal.
Robin set down the mug. “God, this was supposed to be a peaceful night!” Marian set down her spinning to watch.
“What have you got here?” Will asked, on alert now, his hand tightening around the grip of his sword.