She hesitated and glanced at the captain, who gave no indication he might offer them privacy. No matter. Guy of Gisbourne was a good man if a bit stern, and this news was just as important to him. “I overheard a private conversation between a group of young Guardsmen,” she explained, “that I think you should know about.”

Arable described everything she heard. She mentioned the five Guardsmen and their late-night meeting, she talked about the wine cellar and the larder, and their mysterious whispered plans. “I could not make out the details, but they were talking about some other Guardsman. I don’t know who. They mean him harm.”

“Some sort of fraternal indoctrination, I would guess,” de Lacy waved it off. “Just normal roughhousing. It happens all the time when you throw men at each other.”

“No,” Arable insisted. “This wasn’t playful, and it wasn’t normal. I got the impression they meant something much more serious.”

“I know precisely what this is,” Gisbourne turned sour, but it was aimed at the Sheriff, “and I warned you this would happen.”

De Lacy’s response was careful. “You don’t know anything yet.”

“Shall I wait until one of my boys is dead?” The captain placed his fingertips on the table. “Thank you, Arable, this was very important. You were right to bring this to us.”

“I know,” she said flatly.

“Did you recognize any of these men?” Gisbourne asked. “Their names?”

Arable shook her head, suddenly feeling foolish.

“Hm. What about their faces?” he pressed.

“No.” She only knew a handful of the Common Guardsmen anymore. Thankfully. She rarely worked in the barracks halls, where she quickly became a target for the men’s drunken gropings. Early on, de Lacy had reassigned her to duties centered in the upper bailey, closer to him. She was friends with most of the Guardsmen in Gisbourne’s private regiment, but not many others. Which meant she had no names to share. What a waste of time, she scolded herself. “Unless…”

Gisbourne raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“They’ve gone through the kitchen each night before they meet,” she continued, before she fully thought it out. “I suppose I could hide there and spy on them as they pass through.”

“Of course not,” de Lacy was quick to protect her. “You’ve done enough already, I should think.”

Gisbourne nodded. “Agreed. Besides, I have a good idea who they are. I ought to just throw them all back into the gaols where they belong.”

“You ought?” de Lacy turned sharply on him. “You have a whisper and a rumor, and you want to condemn innocent men for that?”

“We’re using a new definition of the word innocent, are we?”

“You want to prove me wrong?” De Lacy gave a labored smile. “Then gather evidence, not hearsay.”