Chapters (76)
- Title Page
- Copyright Notice
- Dedication
- PROLOGUE
- PART I
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- PART II
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- PART III
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- INTERLUDE
- PART IV
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- INTERLUDE
- PART V
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- PART VI
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- INTERLUDE
- PART VII
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- PART VIII
- FIFTY-THREE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- FIFTY-FIVE
- FIFTY-SIX
- EPILOGUE
- AUTHOR’S NOTE
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- Newsletter Sign-up
William said nothing beyond a cold staredown with the earl, who opted to silence himself. Robin was left with very little idea of what to say, but William fortunately abated the tension by wandering a few steps away.
Ferrers turned swiftly back to Robin, his voice lowered. “Talk to Richard. Gives us more time for the swords to arrive. If we break that wall too early, it’ll be the last thing we do.”
If there was anything in the world that Robin hated most, it was being handed a bucket full of other people’s mistakes.
“ABSOLUMENT PAS,” RICHARD GRUMBLED in French, readjusting himself on the velvet-covered close stool. What was already a disgusting task was made all the worse by the stifling hot air that persisted even through the night. But Robin had hoped Richard might be more amenable to advice in private, and the only opportunity for privacy was while the king was shitting in a box. It was as appropriate a metaphor for their situation as Robin could imagine.
“There’s no need to rush,” Robin tried to explain. “Why not wait until more siege weapons are built, at least?”
“While they sit and laugh?” The king reached for a linen and Robin desperately found anything else to look at. “They already watched one trebuchet tear itself apart. They won’t be afraid until we start to use them. I won’t suffer to be their source of entertainment another day.”
“Better they laugh for a week now, than for centuries,” Robin said to the sky. “They don’t know we’re undersupplied. But if it comes to close combat too early, they’ll quickly figure that out. If we simply wait for the weapons to arrive—”
“Then there will be some other problem!” Richard snapped. “There’s never a perfect moment to attack, Robin. You never have all the weapons you want, or all the men you want, or all the time you want. You make do with what you have, and I am exceptionally good at doing that. If you think I am nothing without shiny new swords, then you have not been paying attention.”
Robin took it with humility. “I don’t think that. I just wanted to voice my concern. Part of my duty is to dissent.”
“I know.” Richard tidied himself. “But I am resolute. Tomorrow we start the trebuchets.” He slammed the hinged lid of the close stool down, and Robin tried very hard to ignore the soft sloshing sounds of its contents. He followed Richard back into the command tent, and the commotion of its inhabitants made it clear that William had been equally unsuccessful in rallying reason into the king’s council.