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
“Well my current strategy,” Eric bellowed, as an answer for the group, “is to follow your lead. No blues.”
Guy appreciated the rally. “Your nose looks good in brown.”
“I don’t have blues,” coughed Silas, still wearing the rust colors of Yorkshire. Uniforming Guy’s new members had scarcely been a priority.
“Lose what you have,” Guy answered, unclasping his longsword’s baldric from his belt. His eyes lingered on the pruned ivy cross on his sword’s hilt, pounded by Nottingham smiths into Toledo steel. He stowed the blade away, high on a shelf above Merciful’s saddle sling. “Leave anything that identifies you as a peace officer.”
Silas scowled but obeyed. Behind him, Quillen Peveril inclined his head slightly in a polite refusal. A calm patience defined the man, whose hair and clothing were ever sharp and exact. The Peveril name reached back over a century to the first High Sheriff of Nottinghamshire. When the family had arrived to show their respect at the funeral, Quill personally volunteered for Guy’s new company. It was no surprise he would find it insulting to remove his uniform—it was said that a Peveril’s blood ran blue instead of red.
“There are a lot of desperate people out there,” Quill complained, “who wouldn’t think twice of doing harm to a few unknown travelers. Don’t you think we’d be safer in uniform?”
“Undoubtedly,” Guy answered quickly. “And if anyone here is uncomfortable with the order, you are not obliged to follow it. But consider this—the people who have been willing to help us so far, they’re good people. How much information will good people have on these criminals? No, we need those desperate people you speak of, who might normally hide when they see the Sheriff’s Guard. They’ve heard lies about us, or been bribed by the outlaws.”
Nods all around, even Peveril, though he did not move to disrobe.
“Robin of Locksley changed the rules on us, and he’s winning. You can’t beat a cheater by playing even fairer. It’s time for us to cheat a little, too. Where are the others?”
Eric answered. “Jacelyn and the White Hand left this morning. And FitzOdo is precisely wherever the fuck FitzOdo wants to be.”