“A fight is the last thing they’ll give you.” De Lacy shook his head in exasperation, his temper high. “They’ll hide, they’ll wait for you to pass, and you’ll never find them. Even if you did, what would we do with them? It would take more money to search them out than they’re even stealing! Hell, I should give them bloody subsidies!”

William cleared his throat, seeing the opportunity he needed. “If I may, I think this meeting is entirely unnecessary. The robberies have all but stopped in the last week.”

“Only because merchants won’t travel the roads anymore,” the Lord of Papplewick announced with a nasal sneer. “I wish the same were true for my wife.”

The other lords groaned in agreement, but William put his hand up to silence them.

“Have any of them been stopped in the last week?” A few raised eyebrows, but none answered. “As I say, these thieves had already been routed, thanks in particular to the leadership of Sheriff de Lacy. He and Captain Gisbourne focused their attention on the gangs here in Nottingham, which were supporting the thieves in the Sherwood. It took a few weeks, but those efforts have paid off. I think you’ve seen the last of them. But this business about not paying your taxes, frankly it’s exactly what they wanted. Rebellion, uncertainty. You’ve let them play you, even after they’re no longer a threat. The baron has played this properly, and I think we owe him our thanks.”

There was a quiet in the room, and more than a few raised eyebrows. De Lacy’s eyes pierced him, demanding answers for the unlikely compliments. William dared to hope it would work.

“Even if this were true,” Gisbourne said, “it wouldn’t matter to the people. These songs going around, the stories of Robin Hood, those will continue. Until we make an arrest, until we can put a public end to this, the people are going to live in fear.”

“Besides, laying low for a week doesn’t mean they’re gone,” Lord Oughtibridge thundered as he shifted his weight from one unfortunate position to another. “They have the money to turn every town and village in the county against us.”

William glanced at de Lacy for help, but the man shook his head. It was a good try, his eyes said. But it’s beyond that now. He felt the threads slip out of his hand, like the tether to a boat taken by the current without him.

“Yes, but who is buying?” Hamon Glover was asking. “Diamond necklaces and earrings don’t do them any good.”

“Perchance they have more friends than we think,” came the trademaster, rising. “Perchance there are some lords in Nottinghamshire who are financing this terrorism, for their own reasons.” Blame, William realized. He had offered solutions, but they wanted punishments. It wasn’t that he’d missed his mark, it was simply that nobody cared.