He tugged her back behind the doorway, and she reluctantly let him. They had long taken the risk of their enterprise together, but they would be in far more danger if she were ever incriminated with them. On their own they were forgettable. But with her, they were scandal.

More noise came now, muffled and far-off at first like a storm, but then increasingly distinct. The rumble of new bodies poured into the hall, the clatter of chain mail and weaponry.

Guardsmen poured in. Six of them, side by side, the signature dark blue of their tabards robbed of all color in the orange light. Behind them were two more—a skinny squire in an ivory cape, attending a man whose presence here was near blasphemous. His signature was written on every wall, with ash as his ink.

EIGHTEEN

GUY OF GISBOURNE

THIEVES DEN

“AS CAPTAIN OF THE Sheriff’s Guard, I speak for the Sheriff himself and you may consider my word his law,” Guy announced.

He doubted they would cow to authority, but it was the only strategy he had. William de Wendenal had already compromised their approach by barreling ahead alone, forcing Guy to follow blindly. He counted only three combatants in the hollow dining hall, which meant there were likely more hiding in the surrounding corridors. His men were at every disadvantage, at risk of being surrounded, and in unfamiliar territory.

Not entirely unfamiliar, he corrected. Guy had been here before. These ruins were a testament to the ease of destruction. A scant few months ago he had visited this place with the hopes of recruiting debtors to the Guard’s ranks, and instead discovered a rebellion in the making. The traitor lord had been quietly gathering an army of disciples who thought themselves more important than the law. Like a common cutpurse, the mad Lord Walter had fled when confronted, and chose to martyr himself before answering Guy’s questions. The most loyal of the lord’s crew escaped into the woods and had been causing minor disturbances since, ignorant to the damage they’d done. The true victims, Guy knew, were those desperate men and women who could have been part of a thriving community, but were led to ruin by one man’s misplaced ideology.

All that remained now was char, and Guy’s men had chased raiders from the ruins on three or four occasions. With no heir claimant to the land, multiple rogue groups had tried to settle it in the last three months, earning it the moniker of Thieves Den.

Guy continued. “This land has been seized by the Sheriff, and by staying here you are guilty of trespass.”

He eyed his newest recruit at the back of their formation, wondering what effect this place had on him, but the young man’s face was rightfully concealed in the shadow of his heavy hood.