They were greeted with suspicion, and a group of derelict men nearby were sizing up their chances to attack. Not one of them had the build or the tan of a proper farmer, and they fanned out to protect their storehouse in a manner that suggested they had stolen it themselves. Without his uniform, Guy was only too aware he must seem an easy target, the salt and pepper of his beard betraying his age. He was thankful Marshall Sutton was an imposing thick wall no matter what he wore, since the needling Ferrers at his other side was as intimidating as warm porridge.

“I appreciate your discretion, friend,” Guy soothed the skeptic stranger, “but Robin himself told me he’d been to this village. I just need to get him a message is all. All I need is to be pointed in the right direction.”

“Can’t help you,” was the solemn reply, but the stranger tilted his head to the east. “But I hear they may have seen him in Godling night before last.”

“Thank you,” Guy winked, “I’ll let Robin know he has a friend here.”

“See that you do.”

Guy tried to hide his discomfort. If they projected weakness, they would be eaten alive. Being pointed toward Godling was better information than they had received in weeks as honest Guardsmen, and it gave Guy the bittersweet hope this would work.

It had to work. For Guy, it was the only option. If Wendenal successfully deposed him and humiliated him, the only natural conclusion would be to quietly kill him as well. After a month or so, once the drama of his departure was settled, Guy predicted he would undoubtedly meet his end by an anonymous blade in the night. If left alive, he would put all his efforts into revealing this corruption, and Wendenal knew it. His men would likely be safe, suffering on under the orders of the young new captain from Warwick, but Guy’s only alternative would be to flee. And frankly, he would probably prefer the blade than to leave Nottingham.

Everything he had, his very breath, rested on his ability to be the man who captured Robin Hood. It was the only claim that would make him invulnerable, and he was at every disadvantage of achieving it.

A bulky man with an unadvisable amount of chin idled in front of Guy as they tried to leave. His eyes bulged, revealing his every thought. This was the kind that could never be reasoned with, who thought only with his gut. The creature revealed a heavy sword tucked at his side, which slowly found its way out of his belt.

“There’s an awful lot of Sheriff’s Guard out there.” His voice had a pesky scratch to it. “More than usual.”