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Chapters (76)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. PROLOGUE
  5. PART I
  6. ONE
  7. TWO
  8. THREE
  9. FOUR
  10. FIVE
  11. SIX
  12. SEVEN
  13. EIGHT
  14. NINE
  15. PART II
  16. TEN
  17. ELEVEN
  18. TWELVE
  19. THIRTEEN
  20. FOURTEEN
  21. FIFTEEN
  22. SIXTEEN
  23. SEVENTEEN
  24. EIGHTEEN
  25. NINETEEN
  26. PART III
  27. TWENTY
  28. TWENTY-ONE
  29. TWENTY-TWO
  30. TWENTY-THREE
  31. TWENTY-FOUR
  32. TWENTY-FIVE
  33. TWENTY-SIX
  34. INTERLUDE
  35. PART IV
  36. TWENTY-SEVEN
  37. TWENTY-EIGHT
  38. TWENTY-NINE
  39. THIRTY
  40. THIRTY-ONE
  41. THIRTY-TWO
  42. THIRTY-THREE
  43. THIRTY-FOUR
  44. INTERLUDE
  45. PART V
  46. THIRTY-FIVE
  47. THIRTY-SIX
  48. THIRTY-SEVEN
  49. THIRTY-EIGHT
  50. PART VI
  51. THIRTY-NINE
  52. FORTY
  53. FORTY-ONE
  54. FORTY-TWO
  55. FORTY-THREE
  56. FORTY-FOUR
  57. FORTY-FIVE
  58. INTERLUDE
  59. PART VII
  60. FORTY-SIX
  61. FORTY-SEVEN
  62. FORTY-EIGHT
  63. FORTY-NINE
  64. FIFTY
  65. FIFTY-ONE
  66. FIFTY-TWO
  67. PART VIII
  68. FIFTY-THREE
  69. FIFTY-FOUR
  70. FIFTY-FIVE
  71. FIFTY-SIX
  72. EPILOGUE
  73. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  74. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  75. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  76. Newsletter Sign-up

Reginold and Bolt, he prayed. They were still out there. At any moment Elena could be plucked from the roof by Bolt’s crossbow, by Reginold’s arrow. They needed time.

“We’re leaving,” the girl cried, her voice born of fury. “And you are not going to follow us. John, get Much.” Slowly, just as slowly as Guy himself had moved, the thieves rose. John Little lumbered over to the body of the boy. Much was his name. Little knelt and peeled the boy from the ground, sticky with blood, and carried him like a baby.

Time passed. Reginold and Bolt did not attack.

The thieves claimed their wagons, Reginold and Bolt did not attack.

They stole additional horses, they prepared to leave. Reginold and Bolt did not attack.

The girl didn’t move, the tip of her arrow trained on Guy’s chest. Her arm should have given out by now.

“You’ll hang for this, you know,” Guy said softly to her, as it seemed increasingly likely they would actually escape. “I’ll see to it myself. That’s a promise.”

“You want a promise?” she cried back. “We promise you this. Anyone. Anyone responsible for hurting one of our own will pay with his life. That’s a promise we’ll take to our graves.”

She vanished, replaced by blistering sunlight, which Guy stared into. Even as she ran backward along the roof, even as she slid down to join the others and the awaiting horses. Guy’s men hurried to Devon’s body, but the man was long dead. They asked if they should pursue, they asked for a plan, they needed leadership, they needed justice. Guy couldn’t give it. He was imagining telling Devon’s wife, Hannah, about what had happened. He was thinking of Devon’s baby daughter, now fatherless.

They found Bolt at the north road, unconscious, but alive. Reginold was not as lucky. His body was off the side of the path, his pants were down, he was sitting in a pile of his own shit, his forehead was caved in. His legs twitched still. Guy pushed his sword through Reginold’s heart and wept.

THIRTY-SEVEN

ROGER DE LACY

NOTTINGHAM CASTLE

LORD GUY OF GISBOURNE.

The words hadn’t changed, despite refolding and unfolding the message again twice. So predictable of the parchment, to display the same words every time simply because they were written there. How much more interesting the message would be if it offered a different name each time Roger opened it. How much he would have enjoyed the surprise! What a delight, he could cycle through every name he knew, searching for one even more insulting than Gisbourne’s. It would be quite the promotion for Morg.