Gisbourne looked insulted. “You’re literally stealing. We just caught you, in my supply house, taking things that are not yours. Please don’t tell me what I’m doing is wrong. Stealing is wrong. That’s something your king and your God agree on. Or do you think yourself smarter than them?”

A beefy guard with a thick beard tapped his foot in front of Elena. “A lot of sharp things in this room, eh? You think that’s the best choice you could make with your life, given recent turn of events?”

Elena had only shifted an inch or two toward the hook, but it had been noticed.

At Gisbourne’s command, the Guardsmen started to drag them outside. The beefy one crouched down to look Elena square. “You know there are two ways we can do this,” he said.

This, at least, Elena had been through before. So she nodded, and then there were hands on her arms, lifting her up and moving her outside. She was surprised to see the tip of the sun piercing the horizon. The wagon with its chickens had moved to the side. By the central firepit, Arthur was on his knees surrounded by three or four guards. Elena managed a look back down the alley between the buildings, and already there were guards unloading their wagon, and disappearing to the back door to return the crates.

“Don’t worry, we’ll count everything you took,” Gisbourne said as Elena was shoved to the ground. “It’s important that we know exactly how much you stole from us, as the punishment may depend on it.”

“You stole it first.” Will spat out dirt. “Maybe we’ll share a cell.”

“This is property of the Sheriff, boy.” Gisbourne scowled. He could be riled. Elena wondered if that could be useful. “What you see around you, these are taxes, nothing more. Paid a little late, but finally paid. Ah, here’s another one.”

From the adjacent building, poor Friar Tuck was being led to join the rest of them. There was more red in his beard now, and it wasn’t wine.

Gisbourne scrutinized the six of them. “Is that it?” he asked, and a smattering of men affirmed. “What about Robin of Locksley? Where’s he?”

For once, Elena wished that arrogant piece of shit hadn’t left them, simply so he could suffer as well. “He’s not one of us,” she said.

The captain raised an eyebrow. “Not one of you? Hm.” He walked a few paces around them in a wide circle. “You can keep your secrets if you’d like. He’ll be here soon, I imagine. I have men searching the treeline as we speak.” It was everything Elena could do to keep herself from looking at the tree where Much was hidden. If she did, they’d rout him out in a minute.