“Just try to keep them out of trouble. I’ll keep the captain off their backs, and we’ll get those peace talks.”

Robin let it sink in. It wouldn’t be easy. “We can’t get too entangled here.”

“We won’t have to. There are simple solutions to all of this. I’d say a week.”

“I’d say you’re optimistic,” Robin stared across the room at Arthur, who did not hide that he was staring back. “Worst case?”

“Worst case…” William clicked his tongue. “Not more than a month.”

A month. It sounded like a death sentence. Staying in the woods with these people … with Marion … “Guh, a month.” Robin conceded. “Certainly no longer.”

“It won’t come to that.” William prepared to leave. “But if everything goes sideways, in case we can’t communicate at all, let’s meet right here at the next full moon. Peace or no peace, by then we’ll have at least done what we can.”

“And then we’ll go home.”

William’s only answer was a quizzical stare, and Robin realized its cause. He had called the war home. Robin was sitting in his own castle but he didn’t consider himself home. It was nothing but a gravestone for his father to him, and a poor one at that.

They embraced again and said their goodbyes, slapping each other tightly, and William de Wendenal pulled his hood over his head and rushed off. Off to a month of hall meals prepared in a kitchen, a month of beds and civilization. While Robin would be stuck in the forest with children who seemed hell-bent on suicide.

“You idiots,” Robin said, to everyone. They were silent, and had probably overheard the end of his conversation. “You’ve brought this upon yourselves. All of it.”

They each rejected the shaming in their own predictable way. Marion alone seemed to understand the truth of his words. “What would you have them do?” she asked.

“Do you honestly think you can take on the Sheriff’s Guard? A dozen of you? You’ll be decimated.”

“We’re a hundred strong and growing.”

“Women and children, John. Unless you were hiding your strongest men, you’re the best of them, right here. You barely survived against six Guardsmen. How will you fare against twenty? A hundred? Next time they’ll be organized. You won’t have the drop on them, and they won’t have orders to stay their weapons. They’re trained fighters, and none of you really know what you’re doing.”

“So teach us.” Alan was the only one still sitting, in the same spot he’d fallen, where he might have been killed if things had gone even slightly differently. “Honestly. Teach us.”

Will Scarlet, sitting on the stairs, gave a dry laugh.